#I’m back with them now and regret ever trying to abandon them

[selenoplexia]

logging back in just bc this is my only private diary

[saythenametotheworld]

Take a Chance With Me | j.ww (18+)

You could not believe that no one ever told you how frustrating (and beautiful) it was to be hopelessly captivated by a boy who thinks love is overrated.

one | two | three | four | five

Genre: college au, strangers to lovers, slow burn Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x afab!Reader Warnings: fluff fluff, she fell first he fell harder kinda slow burn lol, mature themes, explicit sexual content (18+) Notes: 25k words. Part 3 of the Heartbreak Hotel series, but it can be read as a standalone fic. Listening to Take a Chance with Me by NIKI. Longer fic because writing this was my coping mechanism for the devastating tragedy that was Backburner. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally and do not claim they would ever behave like they were portrayed in this story.

Playlist: Take a Chance with Me by NIKI, Forces by Japanese Wallpaper, I Think He Knows by Taylor Swift, Taglist: @katfaceu @mansaaay @scoupsjin @iarayara @gaslysainz @silvermist002 @ssmebody @alyssa19123456

Jeon Wonwoo’s story began one hot evening, just two weeks into your senior year of college. It was at a party—one where you’d arrived late after a supposedly quick pre-game session with your girlfriends at Lea’s apartment turned into a full-on mini-party on its own. You’d almost ditched the party altogether, but Mina said she had to meet this guy at the party, or she’d regret it forever. Of course, she was exaggerating at the time, but you went anyway.

You were the designated driver since you were the only one who didn’t drink, which was because you were late even to the pre-game. Some things just never change, and being late is one of your many talents.

As soon as you pulled up to the driveway of the party venue, your friends rushed out of the car and into the house, leaving you behind to park. Just as you were stepping out of your car, you spotted Wonwoo—tall standing next to the lamppost, and handsome under the yellow-orange glow of the light. He was attractive—the slight flush on his cheeks, his skin glowing under the lamplight, and even in simple square glasses and a plain white tee, he radiated a quiet confidence that made you pause.

He was cute. And he was heading toward you.

Why though? Did he want to talk to you? Maybe get your number? Oh my god. What are you gonna do?

You stood frozen, heart pounding in your chest as Wonwoo closed the gap between you. Sure, he wasn’t the first guy to ever approach you, but he was cute, and it was ridiculous how fast you were crushing on him.

He’s coming, you told yourself, glancing around casually, trying not to look too eager. But just as he was about three steps away—bam! He hit the ground, limbs sprawled out in every direction.

You gasped, rushing over. “Oh my God, are you okay?”

He groaned, kicked at the offending rock that had tripped him, and then dramatically flopped onto the grass as if it had betrayed him too.

You crouched beside him, waving a hand in front of his face. “Hey, you alright?”

Wonwoo blinked up at the sky, glaring like the stars were personally out to get him. Then, locking his glassy eyes on yours, he said, “Hi. My asshole friends abandoned me here.” He hiccupped. “I’m kinda drunk and you’re kinda gorgeous. Would you be so kind to help me out?”

Caught off guard by his random compliment, you chuckled. “Here, let me help you up,” you said, tugging his arm, trying to haul him back to a sitting position. “You can walk, right? You were walking just now.”

“Walking’s overrated,” he muttered, but with your help, he managed to get back on his feet, wobbling slightly.

You told him your name. “What’s yours? Where do you live? Do you need a ride?”

He opened his mouth to speak but someone suddenly appeared beside him, patting his chest. It was Hoshi. “There you are, Wonwoo. We’ve been looking all over for you!” 

“Hosh! You know this guy?” you asked.

“Look,” Wonwoo said, turning to you and pointing a very unsteady finger at his friend. “See that? Fake friend. Never trust people who abandon you.”

“What are you talking about? You’re the one who wandered off!”

Wonwoo smirked, leaning in as if sharing a deep truth. “People who gaslight you aren’t your friends. Don’t forget that.”

“I can’t believe I ditched my girl for this. Okay, that's enough from you.” Hoshi slung Wonwoo’s arm over his shoulder. “Where’s that idiot Jun? Junhui!”

A second later, a man came jogging toward you. “Found him?”

“Yeah, help me get him out of here,” Hoshi said, struggling to hold up Wonwoo’s weight.

Jun smiled apologetically at you as they shifted Wonwoo’s arm off your shoulder. “He seems like a handful, but he’s nice sometimes.”

You stepped back, watching them as they wrangled him toward a black pickup truck. “He doesn’t seem that drunk, though.”

Jun chuckled. “You’d be surprised. One time he got wasted and started working on a coding project. Finished the whole thing in one sitting.”

“Didn’t even remember it the next day,” Hoshi added, making a mock exploding gesture at his temple.

You couldn’t help laughing, finding it both amusing and adorable that a fine man like him would have such drinking habits.

“Anyway, thanks again,” Hoshi said, flashing you a quick grin as they started loading Wonwoo into the truck.

“Bye, gorgeous lady!” Wonwoo called from the back seat, waving weakly. “I love you!”

Jun scoffed. “You don’t even know her name.”

“Who cares what you think, Jun? You’re a fake friend!”

You couldn’t help but laugh again, waving them off as the truck pulled away. Standing there, you found yourself thinking about Wonwoo—strangely intrigued by this cute, clumsy guy. But before you could dwell on it for too long, you heard Lea’s voice calling your name from inside the house.

“Why are you out here alone? Let’s go!”

You skipped toward her, linking arms as she pulled you inside. “I just met the cutest guy ever.”

If Seungcheol’s face wasn’t the first thing you saw as you stepped into the pool pavilion, you wouldn’t have recognized him at all. His neat blue suit from yesterday had been swapped for something far more relaxed—crisp white pants and a cream button-up that made him look more… approachable. He greeted you the moment you arrived, gesturing to the lounge chair beside his.

“I ordered cocktails,” he said, motioning to the bellinis on the table. “But I took liberties since I didn’t know what you like.”

“You didn’t have to include me, but thanks,” you smiled, taking one of the flutes.

Seungcheol watched you take your first sip before saying, “So, what depressing tale would you be telling me today?”

You coughed, choking very slightly on your drink. “You said you wouldn’t judge.”

He shrugged, leaning back on the chair and fixing his eyes at the infinity pool. “I wasn’t judging. My expectations are based on past experiences. In this case, the experience was yesterday’s story. It was quite heavy.”

“Exactly,” you nodded, setting your glass down. “Yesterday was intense, so I’m dialing it down today with a lighter story about my favorite ex.”

“You have a favorite ex?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “But that’s not the point. Do you wanna  hear it or not?”

Seungcheol nodded. “Please. Proceed.”

“Alright.” You took a sip of your drink before starting. “His name is Jeon Wonwoo.”

THE DAY after you'd first met him at that party, you’d prioritized looking for Wonwoo. Living in the on-campus dorms gave you time to walk around the campus before your class. The problem was, you didn’t know where to start. Your friends could swear they were sick of you, gushing about him and retelling the story of how he called you gorgeous and basically confessed his love for you in under five minutes of meeting each other.

“I know he was drunk, Jill. But people say you become more honest when you’re drunk,” you insisted, not even trying to hide your excitement as you scanned the cafeteria for any sign of him.

“What’s his name anyway?” Mina asked, scowling slightly as she watched you crane your neck, practically spinning in your seat. 

“Wonwoo. I don’t know his last name.”

Mina scoffed. “Wonwoo? Aren’t you like neighbors?”

You stopped mid-scan, turning to her with wide eyes. “We’re WHAT?”

As it turned out, Wonwoo lived in the on-campus dorm too. He and Hoshi were roommates, and you only knew this because, apparently, the guy Mina just had to meet at last night’s party was Hoshi. 

“You’re telling me I’ve been looking around campus for him like a lunatic when he’s been right under my nose this whole time?” you asked, clutching your pearls.

Jill snorted into her iced coffee. “You’ve been obsessed for, what? Twelve hours?”

“Thirteen,” you corrected. “But who’s counting?”

For a while, you tried catching glimpses of Wonwoo around your apartment complex. You even took slightly longer routes on campus, hoping to spot him by chance between classes or during meals. But every time, you came up empty—no sign of him at all.

“Just where does this hot specimen hide his gorgeous self?” you grumbled. “It’s been three days.”

Lea watched you with a glimmer in her eyes. “This is a first. You’ve had crushes before but never hyper-fixated on one until now.”

“Right? I was just thinking the same thing,” Jill affirmed.

“There’s no one like him,” you gushed, tilting your head dreamily. “I think he might be the one.”

Mina choked on her drink. “You’re not serious.”

You laughed, stroking her back gently. “Of course not. I’m just having fun, guys. Relax.”

“Anyway, why don’t you just ask Hoshi?” Jill suggested, sounding like the only sane one in the group. 

Oh. Right. Hoshi. Why didn’t you think of that earlier? You paused, considering the idea. It was practical. Sensible.

“Do you think that’s weird? Just asking out of nowhere?” you asked, biting your lip.

“You’re the one who’s been running around campus like a headless chicken,” Mina pointed out dryly. “Asking Hoshi would be a lot less weird than that.”

You smiled at Mina, batting your eyelashes prettily. “Ask him for me.”

Mina swatted your hand away when you tried to hold her. “We’re not talking right now. And no, I won’t tell you why.”

You grimaced. “Well, no one’s asking!”

Jill laughed. “Just go to Hoshi. You guys are friends. And it’s not like you’re asking for Wonwoo’s hand in marriage. You’re just curious.”

“Alright, alright,” you relented, standing up from the table. “I’ll ask Hoshi.”

Mina gave you a thumbs up as you left the cafeteria, heading out to start your quest. You just hoped your heart didn’t explode from the anticipation before you got there.

You spotted Hoshi in the dance room, drinking water after practice. Perfect. You strode over, determined but trying to keep it cool. He saw you coming and grinned, clearly already knowing what this was about.

“Well, well, well,” Hoshi said, putting his bottle down and crossing his arms with a smirk. “What brings you to my humble corner of campus today? Or should I say... who?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “Oh, stop. I just wanna ask you something.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, leaning in conspiratorially. “You’re about to ask me where Wonwoo is, aren’t you? Don’t worry, I’ve seen this before. You’re already head over heels. It’s okay, it’s a common reaction.”

You tried to look annoyed, but your lips twitched, betraying you. “Fine. Yes. Where is he?”

Hoshi raised his eyebrows, looking overly impressed with himself. “See? I’m basically psychic. I should be charging for my services.”

“Just tell me!” You lightly shoved him.

“Okay, okay,” he chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. “He’s usually holed up in the tech building, doing nerd stuff. You know, coding, hacking the mainframe, whatever those guys do.” He waved a hand in the air. “Oh, and I’m gonna tell you this only because you and I are tight—you’re gonna need to bring a snack. Wonwoo’s been known to forget to eat when he’s in the zone.”

You crossed your arms, half-joking but half-serious. “What’s that supposed to mean? Do I need to worry about him starving to death before I even get the chance to talk to him?”

“Maybe,” Hoshi said, eyes twinkling. “But hey, if he does, I’ll make sure his last words are something romantic. Like, ‘Tell her... she was... gorgeous.’”

“Oh my god, you’re impossible,” you groaned, turning to walk away, though you couldn’t help laughing.

He called after you, still grinning. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you! And hey—if you need a wingman, you know where to find me!”

Now you had a solid lead... and maybe a ridiculous wingman if things got really desperate. But most importantly, you had a plan: bump into him casually.

You spent the next few days timing your trips past the IT building. At first, it felt silly—pretending like you were just ‘happening to walk by’—but today, your patience paid off. There he was, standing just outside the doors, tapping away on his phone. Your heart fluttered the second you saw Wonwoo, that same flush you remembered from the night before creeping up your neck.

You were about to walk over, but then a group of people spilled out from the building, laughing loudly as they passed by Wonwoo. You turned away, worried someone might recognize you. As soon as they were far enough, you spun back to see Wonwoo, only to find him gone.

You sighed. “Next time.”

The next time came—several next times, actually. You just couldn’t land the perfect opportunity! The universe was against you, you could swear with how each encounter was always interrupted by other people, unexpected circumstances, and now, even the weather!

You stared at the sky with a deadpan expression. “Really? Just tell me you don’t want me to shoot my shot with him, why don’t you?” you spoke to the sky, as if it would respond.

You were supposed to do your routine attempt at ‘bumping into Wonwoo’ but the rain started pouring right when you stepped out of your building. As if that wasn’t bad enough, you didn’t bring an umbrella with you. You sighed, scuffing your shoe against the pavement, debating whether to make a run for it or just wait it out.

“Maybe I’m just unlucky?” you muttered to yourself.

Staring at your feet, you noticed a new pair falling into step beside you. You looked up and gasped audibly upon seeing Jeon Wonwoo standing there with an umbrella in his hand. He looked as handsome as you remembered—neat appearance, well-kept hair, and his glasses that suited his face perfectly.

“Wonwoo!” you exclaimed, making him glance at you.

He scanned you for a second. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I know you.”

You told him your name—clearly and in full. “We met at the party last Friday,” you smiled, hoping he’d remember.

“Oh, I met a lot of people that night.”

“You called me nice and gorgeous?” you offered, gouging a reaction from him, but so far—nothing. “And, uh, you also kinda said you love me.”

Wonwoo blinked, clearly taken aback. “Did I?” You saw the confusion in his expression, followed by a flicker of embarrassment. He looked away, his jaw tensing slightly. “Sorry, I don’t remember any of that,” he said, his voice softer, but there was no warmth in it. It felt more like a brush-off.

“Yeah, it’s okay,” you said, waving it off casually. “You were really drunk, so I guess it makes sense.” You grinned, hoping the playful tone might make the moment less embarrassing

He seemed like an entirely different person. He was fun that night, sweet even. Was that a one-off thing?

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The sound of the rain pounding on the concrete was oddly loud. You could feel your heart hammering in your chest, not entirely sure if you should say something or just let it go.

“Well, then. I should go.”

You nodded. “Of course. It was nice seeing you.”

You watched him walk into the rain, dry and safe under his umbrella. You couldn’t help but scoff. If it was the Wonwoo you’d met that night, he would probably share his umbrella with you.

“What a bummer,” you muttered, looking down at your feet again as you kicked your tiptoes on the floor. 

You kept your gaze there, replaying the encounter with Wonwoo and how awful it made you feel. You barely noticed the car that pulled over in front of you until you heard someone call your full name.

When you looked up, you saw Wonwoo in a car with his window rolled down. He turned to reach for something behind him before extending his umbrella out to you. You stepped into the rain for a second to grab it and then backed away with a confused look on your face.

“Thank you,” you called out.

He just nodded, lips tight. “Leave it to the dorm lady when you’re done with it.”

“I will!” you replied, smiling at him.

As he drove away, you waved your hand in the air, your smile getting impossibly wider as you clutched his umbrella in one hand.

Just like that, your quest to make Jeon Wonwoo fall for you was on. You chased him around—well, not really, but you seized every chance to talk to him. First, you personally delivered his umbrella to his dorm, which surprised him because obviously, he wasn’t expecting it.

When you found him at the cafeteria that day, sitting alone at a table while working on something on his laptop, you walked over with your tray and casually slid into the seat across from him.

“You look like you could use some company. Lucky for you, I could use some too. Let’s accompany each other,” you beamed, and he looked up from his laptop briefly—just to see who you were.

“I’m working,” he said, reverting his attention to his work.

You leaned forward with a grin. “I can multi-task. Do you want me to be quiet while you work?”

“Do what you want,” he said, noncommittal.

That made you perk up. As long as he didn’t tell you to leave him alone, you were fine with being quiet. He was quiet too, but didn’t seem to mind your presence. So you stayed, eating your lunch while on your phone and occasionally sneaking glances at him.

One time, you find him at the library sitting at a table with his headphones in, immersed in whatever he was working on on his screen, again. You plopped down next to him, spreading your books out.

“It appears you might need some intellectual stimulation. I’m excellent company for that too,” you said.

Without looking away from his screen, Wonwoo said, “Pass.”

“Are you coding?” you asked, ignoring his refusal.

“I'm studying.”

“For what?” you asked, leaning back to take a peek at his screen. “You're reading a book on your laptop?”

“It's convenient.”

You grimaced. “I bet you don't know what books smell like.”

“No, and I don't really wanna know,” he said, facing you. “Now, can I have some peace and quiet?”

“Oh, of course. Sorry. I’ll just be over here being pretty and smart. Don’t mind me.”

He didn’t respond, just nodded slightly, continuing to work. You watched him for a bit, playfully resting your chin in your hand.

“Wow. My man is so cute and smart,” you muttered and Wonwoo suddenly glanced sideways at you.

You looked away immediately, opening a book, and burying your face in it. Wonwoo reached for it, taking it out of your hand and flipping it.

“It’s upside down,” he said before fixing his gaze on his screen again.

If it wasn’t for your prior commitment to your friends, you would probably stay in the library until he leaves. Half-heartedly, you packed away your books and got ready to leave. Wonwoo noticed you then but didn’t say anything.

You tapped on the table next to his laptop, making him take off his headphones and look at you inquiringly.

“I was thinking of watching a movie this weekend. You’re welcome to join me.”

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow. “I don’t watch movies.”

You shook your head disapprovingly. “Guess we’ll have to change that about you.”

“Good luck with that,” he replied, putting his headphones back on.

He didn’t seem put off by your forwardness, which was all that mattered to you because it didn’t seem like you were bothering him. You were resolved to continue what you were doing.

Another time, you saw him at the gym when you were there with your friends. He was lifting weights, and you confidently strode over, showing off your figure in your gym outfit. You casually leaned over the machine he was using.

“Wow, so you’re not just working out your brain, you work out your biceps too? Impressive,” you complimented.

“I come here to avoid conversations,” he deadpanned.

“You’re still talking to me, so you’re not really doing a great job,” you chuckled.

Wonwoo sighed, but again, he didn’t tell you to leave. He just continued what he was doing, and you watched for a minute, smirking. You were enjoying yourself, despite his lack of reactions.

“I’ll be over there if you need me,” you said, winking.

“Why would I need you?” he asked, resting his hands for a second.

You shrugged. “You never know when you might.”

As you walked away, your friends were waiting for you with playful smiles. Mina said, “Girl, is it just me or are you kinda embarrassing?”

You scrunched your nose cutely at her. “I am, kinda. But it’s okay. He’ll warm up to me soon.”

You kept ‘accidentally’ bumping into him at random spots—by the vending machine, dorm hallways, the library aisles, or even walking to class despite being in different buildings. 

Sometimes, you felt a little embarrassed, but you liked how fun it was to tease him and flirt with him, despite his aloof attitude. He was gonna break sooner or later, and whatever he decided to do when that happened, you were prepared to accept. You had projected about a dozen different scenarios of him confronting you, but the reality was far more unique.

“Look at us, fate keeps putting us together. Ever think the universe is trying to tell you something?” you told Wonwoo when you coincidentally (for real this time), ended up in the same college seminar together.

He stared at you. “The universe doesn’t work that way.”

Unfazed, you shrugged, opening your laptop. “Maybe not, but it’s more fun to believe it does.”

Wonwoo closed his laptop and turned his body slightly toward you. “Do you have feelings for me?”

“Yes,” you replied without missing a beat. “Wasn’t it obvious? I made sure you’d get the message though.”

He was quiet for a while, staring at you with a blank expression. After about thirty seconds, he asked, “Why?”

You shrugged, keeping your smile. “Because I do. Hey, you confessed your love to me first!”

“When did I—” he stopped and then sighed. “I don’t even remember any of that.”

“It’s okay. I remember enough for the both of us,” you teased, tilting your head with an innocent smile.

Wonwoo seemed to realize arguing wasn’t going to get him anywhere. He shook his head slowly, as if accepting defeat. “Do whatever you want, but I won’t take responsibility for your assumptions.”

“You’re not telling me to leave you alone?” you asked, raising your brows in genuine surprise.

He looked at you, baffled. “What?”

“You’re not telling me to leave you alone,” you repeated, this time more matter-of-factly. “So can I take that as a sign that I can keep following you around?”

Wonwoo grimaced, though it was more out of exasperation than irritation. “You’re not seriously going to follow me everywhere, are you?”

You grinned mischievously. “No, not really. But now that you mention it, maybe I should. What do you think?”

“Well then, leave—”

“Good afternoon, sir,” you exclaimed upon seeing the professor walk in.

You lay sprawled on Lea’s bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, scowling. Next to you, Lea was perched on her stomach, typing away on her laptop.

“The guy’s a tough nut to crack,” you muttered, shaking your head in frustration. “Do you think… maybe he’s just not interested?”

“I thought he made that pretty clear with how he keeps brushing you off?” Lea replied, not looking up from her screen.

You sat up with a sigh just as Mina and Jill strolled into the room. “He doesn’t really brush me off though,” you argued. “More like… he lets me do whatever I want.”

“You guys talking about Wonwoo?” Mina asked and you nodded. “Hoshi is inviting him over for movie night. Apparently, he said ‘yes’.”

Your jaw dropped. “No way? He said he didn't like movies!”

Mina nodded, pulling out her phone and flashing you the screen. “I don't know the details. Hosh says he’s wingmanning you,” she added with a grin.

You squealed, grabbing Lea by the arm. “Quick! Lend me a cute dress. No! I should just go back to my dorm and get one!”

“It’s a pajama party,” Jill interrupted, sitting beside you with a bowl of ice cream in hand. “You’re supposed to wear pajamas.”

You paused, considering. “Yes, but... like, do you have a cute nightgown? Those count as pajamas too, right?”

“I do,” Jill said, shaking her head, “but I’m not lending it to you. You’ll just complain about being cold.”

You slumped back onto the bed dramatically, face-first. “Friendship is dead. It never existed.”

Lea gasped. “Jill! Not you eating ice cream on my bed!”

“Oops, sorry!” Jill mumbled, quickly getting off the bed.

You rose when you heard ice cream, following Jill off the bed and asking to share. Mina was watching you with a soft smile on her lips. Then she said, “You changed a lot, did you notice? Remember when you took a break from school when we were freshmen? You were so different back then.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, mouth full of ice cream. Jill answered for you. “That part of her life was her character development arc. It wouldn’t make sense to remind her of such a depressing time when she’s done a really good job getting over it a long time ago.” 

You shot her a pair of finger guns and winked, appreciating the save.

“You’re right,” Mina said, her expression softening as she came over to hug you. “I’m just so proud of you.”

Jill joined in the hug, and Lea followed soon after, sandwiching you in the middle.

Feeling warm and fuzzy, you leaned over and kissed Mina’s cheek, only for her to pull away, grimacing. “Ew, sticky lips,” she complained, wiping the smudge of ice cream from her face.

“Sorry,” you grinned, unapologetic.

The smell of popcorn filled the apartment as you rummaged through Lea’s closet, pulling out a cozy sweatshirt that still looked stylish enough for the movie night. “This will have to do,” you muttered, tugging it on over your pajamas.

Lea, now in a matching set of flannel, raised an eyebrow. “You really think Wonwoo’s gonna notice your outfit at a pajama party?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted with a shrug. “But it’s better to be prepared.”

When you got back to the living room, the usual chaos of movie night was already in full swing. Hoshi and Jun were bickering over what movie to watch while Seokmin raided the snack stash.

Hoshi called out your name, waving you over with a mischievous grin. “Look who actually showed up.”

You froze mid-step. Wonwoo was sitting on the couch, casually leaning back with his arms folded across his chest, looking as aloof as ever. He was wearing pajamas, which was unexpected because you didn't think he'd be the type to engage in silly activities like this one, but he was cute nonetheless.

You blinked. “He’s real,” you whispered, eyes wide, and Mina stifled a laugh. To Hoshi, you said out loud, “Hosh, you’re my most favorite person in the world.”

Just as you were about to claim the spot next to Wonwoo, Jun swooped in and plopped down right where you were headed. Without thinking, you grabbed Jun by the arm. “Move!”

Jun blinked at you, laughing. “What’s going on?”

You picked up a throw pillow and hit Jun with it again and again until he moved out of your way.

“You’re ruthless,” Jun chuckled, shaking his head but laughing anyway. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” you winked at him before turning to Wonwoo. He watched the whole thing unfold with mild amusement, shaking his head as you settled in.

“Comfortable?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Very,” you grinned, inching just a little closer to him. “Fancy seeing you here. I didn’t think you’d really show up. And in pajamas, no less,” you said, flashing him a wide grin.

Wonwoo glanced at his clothes briefly. “Hoshi insisted,” he said flatly.

“Well, I’m glad you came,” you said, batting your eyelashes in what you hoped was a cute way. “It’s not every day I get to sit next to my favorite person.”

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, unamused. “I thought Hoshi was your favorite.”

You pouted. “You’re no fun, you know that?”

“Wasn’t trying to be,” he replied, unbothered.

Determined to get some sort of reaction, you leaned closer, pretending to examine his face. “Do you always wear glasses?” you asked, feigning curiosity. “They make you look extra smart.”

He pushed his glasses up his nose, side-eyeing you. “I am extra smart.”

You giggled, undeterred. “I bet you’re super smart, Mr. IT Genius. You could probably hack into all our phones right now.”

Wonwoo didn’t seem fazed. “I’m not that smart. And hacking is illegal.”

“Well, that’s good. Otherwise, you’d see all the photos I took of you before,” you teased, leaning even closer so your shoulder brushed his. “For research purposes, of course.”

This time, Wonwoo did look at you, but only briefly. “Research for what?”

“Oh, just, you know,” you waved a hand vaguely, “studying the behavior of elusive, handsome introverts.”

“Sounds like a waste of time,” he replied dryly, though his lips twitched into a faint smile. You’d almost missed it if you weren’t staring right at him.

You grinned, feeling triumphant at his tiny show of amusement. “Did I just make you smile? Am I your source of happiness and joy now?”

“Just what is up with you?” he questioned, genuinely bewildered.

“I’m persistent. Haven’t you noticed?”

“I have.”

Before you could respond, Hoshi’s voice boomed across the room. “Movie’s starting, everyone! Grab your snacks, get cozy!”

The lights dimmed further, and the opening credits began to roll. You wiggled in your seat, purposely leaning just a little closer to Wonwoo, your head brushing against his arm. Wonwoo glanced at you but didn’t say anything, so you tilted your head playfully and whispered, “You’re not gonna move away, are you?”

He looked away, clearly unimpressed. “Why would I?”

“I don’t know… because I’m annoying?”

“You are,” he said, eyes fixed on the screen.

“Hey!” You nudged him with your shoulder, a mock pout on your lips. “I’m charmingly annoying.”

“If you say so,” he replied.

Every now and then, you’d make little comments, trying to catch his attention. Wonwoo remained mostly unresponsive, only glancing at you occasionally, but he didn’t seem bothered either. In fact, the more you nudged him or commented, the more relaxed he seemed.

Finally, you ‘accidentally’ let your head rest on his shoulder. “Oops,” you whispered, eyes still fixed on the screen. “My bad.”

Wonwoo sighed, but to your surprise, he didn’t push you off. “You’re really pushing your luck tonight.”

You grinned up at him, batting your lashes. “What can I say? I like taking my chances.”

“Just watch the movie,” he muttered, but you could tell—he didn’t actually mind.

With a satisfied smile, you snuggled a little closer, content with your minor victory. 

After the movie, everyone stretched and yawned. Hoshi and Seokmin were already debating what to watch next, while Jill and Lea were dramatically complaining about the lackluster conclusion to the movie. You continued the night with laughter and conversations over light drinks. It was a school day, so no one was entertaining the idea of getting wasted.

You glanced at Wonwoo, who had stayed quiet throughout the night, except for a few quips here and there. You often flirted with him in between conversations, but as usual, he couldn’t even be bothered.

When the group started to pack up, you took a deep breath and turned to him. “Hey, do you wanna walk back to the dorms together?” you asked, keeping your tone light and hopeful.

You were the only ones going back to the dorms, since the rest of your friends lived off-campus, and Hoshi was obviously staying over at Mina’s.

Wonwoo stood up, gathering his things without making eye contact. “No, thanks,” he said simply, pulling his jacket over his shoulder. “I’ll head back on my own.”

Your heart sank a little, but you didn’t want to let it show. “Okay, sure,” you said quickly, trying to brush it off with a casual laugh. “Didn’t think you’d say yes anyway.”

He paused for a moment, adjusting his jacket before looking at you with a slight frown. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” he said, his voice firm but not unkind. “You don’t need to follow me around.”

The words stung more than you expected, even though you’d been joking about it all night. You opened your mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Instead, you just nodded, forcing a small smile. “Got it.”

Wonwoo gave a short nod, then turned and headed for the door without a second glance. As you watched him leave, the lightheartedness you’d felt earlier fizzled out. You knew he wasn’t trying to be cruel, but his rejection still hurt. You’d pushed and pushed all night, and for a moment, it felt like maybe he was warming up to you. But now, it seemed like you had been wrong all along.

Mina noticed your shift in mood and walked over. “Hey, you okay?”

You plastered on a smile, shrugging nonchalantly. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll head back now. See you guys tomorrow, okay?”

Your farewell was noisy, with your girls dramatically begging you to stay. There was a big smile on your lips when you exited the door, but as you headed back to your dorm, thoughts of Wonwoo’s words stayed with you. 

Maybe this little game of flirting wasn’t as fun for him as it was for you. Maybe you were pushing too hard. Maybe this was more one-sided than you wanted to admit. It had been fun for the most part, a lighthearted chase that kept your heart racing, but now it was starting to feel tiring—draining, even.

Your brows furrowed in frustration. “I should stop…” you muttered under your breath, kicking at a stray pebble in your path. Then, with a small pout, you crossed your arms tightly over your chest. “Men ain’t shit,” you grumbled, though the bitterness in your voice didn’t quite match the half-hearted way you said it.

“Now, now, sweetheart,” said a greasy, slurred voice from behind you, giving you goosebumps all over. “You don’t really mean that, do you?”

How deeply distracted were you that you didn’t notice the dragged-out footsteps behind you? 

You tried to brush it off, but when the pace quickened and the slurred voice called out again, you got ready to run. Before you could, however, he grabbed your arm.

“Not so fast, sweetheart,” the man drawled, his breath reeking of alcohol as he eyed you. “What’s a pretty girl like you doin’ out here all alone?”

You shot him a sharp glance, trying to ignore the knot tightening in your stomach. “I’m not interested. Leave me alone,” you said, trying to swat his hand away but his grip tightened.

“I’m not so bad, am I? C’mon—just a little company,” he slurred.

You yanked your hand back, eyes narrowing as you tried to fight him off. “Let go!” you snapped, your voice rising in panic.

The man chuckled, tugging you toward him. “What’s the rush?”

With a rush of adrenaline, you elbowed him in the ribs and stomped on his foot with all the force you could muster. But despite your efforts, he was stronger, and your heart pounded as he forced you back against a wall, your breath catching in your throat.

Just as you started to fear you couldn’t fight him off, a sharp voice cut through the air. “Hey!”

Before you could process what was happening, Wonwoo appeared, eyes blazing with fury. He swung a solid punch, landing it squarely on the guy’s jaw. The man stumbled, dazed, before collapsing to the ground with a heavy thud.

You stared in shock, chest heaving, barely registering the fact that Wonwoo had just knocked the guy out. He reached for your hand, his grip firm but reassuring. “Let’s go,” he said, his voice calmer now, though still laced with urgency. “Before he gets back up. Come on.”

Grabbing his hand, you ran with him, your pajamas flapping awkwardly as the two of you bolted down the street. Imagine getting harassed in oversized Pucca pajamas? The ridiculousness of the situation would’ve made you laugh if you weren’t so shaken.  

Your heart was still pounding, and you could feel Wonwoo’s hand tightening around yours as you rounded the corner, not stopping until you were safely back inside the campus walls.

When you finally slowed down, panting, you glanced at him. “You just—” you started, still breathless, “You punched him!”

Wonwoo looked at you, still catching his breath. “Yeah.”

The simple acknowledgment sent a strange warmth through you. You both stood there for a moment, the adrenaline fading. You were still catching your breath, trying to process everything that had just happened. 

“Thank you,” you breathed out. “You really saved me back there.”

“I think you would’ve done well by yourself even if I wasn’t there. You probably broke a rib or two with that elbow,” he quipped, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Is that a joke?” you questioned, pointing at his lips. “Are laughing at your own joke?”

He looked at you, his expression shifting back to his usual. “I didn’t laugh. Next time, be more careful. Don’t walk by yourself at night.” His voice was steady, almost scolding, but there was an unmistakable note of concern in it. 

You blinked up at him, feeling your heart flutter in a way that had nothing to do with the scare you just had. He had just knocked out a guy without breaking a sweat, and now he was here, telling you to be careful. You couldn’t help it—the admiration in your eyes must’ve been painfully obvious because you were falling even harder for him. 

Wonwoo noticed your dazed expression, the way your eyes lingered on him a little too long. His brow furrowed slightly before he sighed, clearly not amused by whatever was going through your head. Without saying a word, he took off his jacket and threw it over your face.

“Go back to your room,” he muttered, his voice carrying a hint of exasperation. “And stop being weird.”

You pulled his jacket off your face, blinking up at him with a grin, but he was already turning away, clearly done with the situation.

“Hey! Wait for me! What if he comes back?” you called out, running to catch up to him.

This wasn’t part of the plan. You were doing just fine on the sidelines of college life, navigating the highs and lows of being a student. You were content not drawing attention to yourself in places that didn’t need your presence, happily enjoying the fun college functions from a distance.

Why did you have to join the student council on a whim?

“I’m so sick of this,” you muttered, hauling a large box of banners back into the storage room. Someone else could do it if only there were other hands available to help. Frustrated, you kicked the box, only to recoil in pain when it slammed against your foot. “Ouch!”

“Move,” came a familiar voice from behind you. You glanced back just as Wonwoo pushed you aside, his movements smooth and efficient. With ease, he picked up the box and carried it to the storage room. You followed him, a wide smile creeping onto your lips.

“Thanks a lot,” you said, genuine gratitude lighting up your tone.

Wonwoo gave you a side-eye. “Next time, ask other people for help if you can’t do it by yourself.”

“There was no one to ask! Everyone’s busy with other stuff,” you defended, pouting at being scolded.

“You didn’t ask me.”

“You were busy too!”

“Then you should’ve waited until I was done.”

“What are you so mad about? I didn’t ask because you were busy, and you’re not even in the council to begin with. This isn’t your job.”

Wonwoo sighed, turning away. You followed him out, trying to keep up with his long strides. When he stopped, you halted too, glancing up at him. He stared at you for a moment, inspecting your appearance with an intensity that made your heart flutter.

“Are you checking me out?” you quipped, knowing how he’d react.

Wonwoo scoffed. “Are you heading back to the dorm now?” he asked, and you nodded. “Wait here,” he said before climbing up the sound box to fetch his backpack. When he came back down, he pulled out a jacket and handed it to you.

“Oh, I’m good. I have a jacket in my bag,” you chimed, dismissing it.

“Forget it, then,” he said, putting it away, but you stopped him.

“No! I’ll take it! Mine’s not warm enough,” you grinned. “Thank you!”

Wonwoo’s deadpan expression remained as he rolled his eyes. “Go get your things. We’re leaving.”

You blinked, confusion washing over you. “Huh? Are we leaving together?”

“We’re going the same way anyway. Might as well just go together,” he said, glancing away with a slight furrow in his brows. “You might get yourself in trouble again.”

“We’re on the campus, I don’t think anyone would try something like that here,” you stated, but you couldn’t help smiling. 

After what happened the other day, Wonwoo seemed to be warming up to you now. It felt good to know that he cared enough to walk home with you and ensure nothing happened again.

“If you don’t want to, suit yourself,” he said, turning his back.

“No, wait! Let’s go!”

You rushed back to where you’d left your things, bidding hurried goodbyes to your student council friends. When you returned, Wonwoo was still waiting for you. He sighed at the sight of your massive grin and started walking first, so you ran to catch up with him.

“Wait for me,” you called, giggling as you intertwined your fingers with his. He didn’t shake you off.

“Put the jacket on. It’s cold.”

“Oooh, Jeon Wonwoo,” you teased, peeking at his face. “Are you trying to get promoted to green flag?”

“I’m not a red flag,” he said monotonously.

“When did I say you were?”

“You kept implying it.”

You chuckled lightly. “You know, I heard that people who claim that they’re not a red flag tend to be… well, a red flag.”

“Just wear the jacket. I don’t want to be responsible for you if you get hypothermia.”

You pouted, backing away to put on the jacket. As you did, you unlinked your fingers with his but Wonwoo chased after it, tightening his hold. “Let go. I need to put this on.”

“Huh?” he blurted, retracting his hand like he’d been electrified. His fingers slipped away too quickly, but the warmth lingered on your skin.

“Do you hate it that much?” you scoffed as you wore his jacket. It was warm and smelled like him. “And no one’s getting hypothermia in this weather. It’s not that cold.”

“Can’t we just walk quietly and pretend we don’t know each other?”

“No, we can’t,” you chimed, linking your arms with his. “It’s impossible because we look like a couple right now.”

“No, we don’t.”

“Yes, we do,” you sang, leaning your head on his shoulder as the two of you strolled down the dimly lit pathway. You allowed yourself to savor the moment, your steps perfectly in sync with his, a warmth spreading in your chest as you walked together under the soft glow of the pathway lights.

The school festival was coming up, and you got to work with Wonwoo on the preparations—you as a student council member, and him with the IT Club. Your tasks were different, not overlapping at all but you were content just being in the same space with him. 

While Wonwoo worked with a clubmate on the sound systems, you were assigned to help with decorations and logistics. Despite your tasks not overlapping, you made a point to stroll by his area often, a smile lighting up your face whenever your eyes met. Wonwoo would only nod to acknowledge you, but each exchange was a little jolt of happiness for you.

The hours passed in a blur of laughter and hard work. You organized tables, hung streamers, and made sure everything was in its right place, all while stealing glances at Wonwoo and his team.

During a break, you found yourself near the sound booth, leaning against the wall to catch your breath. Wonwoo was adjusting a microphone, and you couldn’t help but watch. He looked effortlessly cool, his concentration making him even more attractive.

“Don’t just stand there, you’re making me nervous,” he teased when he noticed you staring.

You flushed, momentarily caught off guard. “Just appreciating the view!” you shot back with a grin.

“Right,” he deadpanned, shaking his head. “Just don’t break anything.”

“Oh please, I’m the master of decorations! No broken things here!” you replied with mock seriousness.

As the day wore on, the festival started to take shape, and your excitement grew. You loved this sense of unity, the way everyone worked together to bring a festival to remember. It was very tiring, wearing out your bodies with work and your minds with how much you kept brainstorming for the best ideas. But as the sun began to set, and the field was transformed into a magical scene with the glow of fairy lights, all your labor had been worth it.

“Looks great,” Wonwoo said, suddenly at your side.

You nodded, unable to suppress your grin. “It does, doesn’t it? You guys did a great job too. The LED displays are cool.”

“We did what we do best. You guys at the student council worked harder, coming up with cool ideas and stuff,” he replied, giving you an appreciative nod.

Feeling a rush of warmth at his compliment, you could only smile. “Let’s just say we make a great team—each in our own way.”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Some of the council guys were a bit pompous and bossy but, yeah, you’re right.”

You laughed at that, hitting his arm and letting your hand stay there. Wonwoo didn’t flinch, even flashing a small smile as you both stared at the fruit of your labor.

The school festival was finally here, and the campus was alive with excitement. You could feel the energy in the air, the smell of food wafting from the stalls, and the cheerful sound of laughter and chatter. 

The day kicked off with a formal ceremony in the main courtyard—with the school band playing a march. Students and faculty gathered under a large banner that read Welcome to the 00 University Festival! You stood with your friends, cheering as the college president gave a short speech about the importance of community and collaboration.

“Let the festivities begin!” he concluded, and the crowd erupted into applause.

As the ceremony ended, you raced to the game booths that had been set up around the campus. Your friends challenged each other to various games—ring toss, balloon darts, and a giant inflatable obstacle course. The laughter was infectious, and you lost track of time as you tried your hand at each game, reveling in the thrill of friendly competition.

In between the fun, you made your way to the sound booth, where Wonwoo and Jihoon were busy setting up for the afternoon performances. 

“Snacks for the most hardworking people on the whole campus,” you called out, showing them the containers of food and drinks.

“Thanks a lot!” Jihoon said with a bright smile, taking a snack before returning to his controls. “You’re so thoughtful.”

Wonwoo, on the other hand, merely nodded, a small smile breaking through his serious demeanor. “Thanks,” he said, taking a sip from the drink you brought him.

“You guys are doing an amazing job! Can’t wait for the party tonight!” you exclaimed, your excitement bubbling over.

“We’ll make sure it’s a good one,” Jihoon replied, his enthusiasm infectious.

“Are you kidding me? DJ Woozi is here. I know it’s gonna be a good one,” you chimed, pointing finger guns at Jihoon.

The latter couldn’t help grinning at your compliment. “You should come over more often! It’s not all boring work here.”

“Oh, of course. I’ll be here often. Gotta make sure you stay hydrated. You’ll need the energy to keep up with the crowd.”

Jihoon tilted his head slightly, unconvinced. “Pretty sure Wonwoo will appreciate it,” he chuckled, nudging Wonwoo’s arm.

You just smiled, winking at Wonwoo before you bid your goodbyes and promised them you’d be back. 

As the afternoon rolled in, the booths and games continued. You lost yourself in the fun, but each time you never forgot to stop by the sound booth, checking in on Wonwoo—and Jihoon because he happened to be there too.

“Want a break?” you asked during one of your visits. “You’ve been at it for hours!”

Wonwoo looked at you, the serious expression on his face softening slightly. “I’m good. Just need to make sure everything is perfect for tonight.”

You nodded, admiring his dedication. “Well, I brought more snacks,” you said, pulling out the waffles you got from one of the booths.

“Thanks,” Jihoon said, taking the bag with a grateful smile.

Soon, the day transitioned into the evening. Students gathered around the stage, and the sounds of music filled the campus. You joined your friends, dancing and enjoying the beats as Jihoon—moniker, Woozi got the crowd hyped.

You could see Wonwoo in the sound booth, focused on the music, and your heart swelled with admiration. Every now and then, you made your way back to him, offering him drinks or just sharing a quick laugh about something funny happening in the crowd.

“Having fun?” he asked during one of your visits, his gaze momentarily leaving the controls.

“Definitely! This is amazing!” you replied, breathless from dancing.

“Good. Just keep your distance from the speakers,” he said and you could see a playful glint in his eyes despite his deadpan expression.

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to break anything,” you shot back, grinning.

The night continued to unfold, filled with dancing, laughter, and an electric atmosphere. Later, when the party wound down and the crowd began to disperse, the working group gathered again for a final clean-up.

“I can’t believe how well everything turned out,” you said, looking around at the remnants of the festival.

“Yeah, it was a success,” Jihoon replied, glancing at you. “Thanks for all your help today.”

“Of course! It was so much fun being part of it,” you said, feeling a warmth spread through you.

The student council president clapped his hands together to grab everyone’s attention. “Before we call it a night, how about we plan a weekend escapade to celebrate our hard work? A little break after all this?”

Cheers erupted from the group, and you felt your heart race at the thought of spending more time with everyone, especially with Wonwoo.

“Good to know everyone’s up for it!” the president said, smiling. “For now, let us pack up what needs to be packed up, make sure not to miss anything, and then we can head to the after-party.”

You helped pack up the necessary stuff that could not wait until tomorrow. Luckily, the university had a cleaning personnel who would handle the rest, so your work was lighter. Afterward, the group dispersed, some resigning to their dorms to rest, and the others heading to the after-party at an off-campus frat house.

Your friends were waiting for you outside the dorm, and you all hurried off to the party. It was a big shift from the organized chaos of the festival to a more liberated vibe. The living room was packed with students, and the atmosphere was thick with the smell of alcohol, vape, and perfumes mixed with the faintest hint of sweat. Colorful lights dance across the walls, along with the bodies of partygoers moving along to the catchy music.

“Let’s grab some drinks!” Mina shouted over the music, and the group surged toward the makeshift bar set up in the corner. You followed, adrenaline coursing through you as you filled a cup with whatever was on offer.

With drinks in hand, you scanned the room, your eyes searching for a familiar face. And there he was—Wonwoo, standing in a corner, a drink in hand, watching the chaos unfold with an amused expression. His dark hair glimmered under the strobe lights, and he stood out in his plain white t-shirt.

Without hesitation, you weaved through the crowd, clutching your drink tightly. “Hey, you made it!” you said, trying to sound casual despite the excitement bubbling inside you.

“Not willingly,” he replied, taking a sip from his cup.

“Want to join the madness?” you asked, gesturing toward the dance floor, where a group of students swayed and grinded, lost in the music and alcohol.

“Pass,” he said, not even giving it a thought.

“I knew it, but why did I still ask?” you mumbled, chuckling over your cup.

Across the hall, you spotted Mina and Hoshi, getting touchy as they danced to the rhythm. You smiled at the sight of them, lifting your cup in greeting when Hoshi waved at you.

“They look so in love, it’s annoying,” you snorted, but your fond smile was anything but snarky.

“Doesn’t look like it to me,” Wonwoo commented, making you glance at him.

“You don’t see it?” you questioned, genuinely perplexed. “It’s so obvious. They can’t even get their hands off of each other.”

Wonwoo hummed, but he looked unconvinced. “It could be the alcohol, you know, making them hot and touchy… and horny. You don’t need love to feel that way.”

You observed him for a while, trying to gouge what was in his mind but to no avail. You could tell though that he was a cynic. “You don’t believe in love, do you?”

“Love is overrated,” he said, sipping from his cup.

You just nodded, acknowledging his admittance and respecting his opinions. “Are you sure you should be drinking? You can’t handle your liquor.”

“Oh, this is plain soda,” he replied, showing you the contents of his red cup. “I’m not drinking. Can’t afford to make stupid mistakes.”

“Mistakes? Like calling some stranger gorgeous and confessing your love for them?” you quipped but there was a bit of snark in your tone.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

That dampened your mood. “Well, good luck then,” you said, bumping your cup gently against his. “Enjoy the party.”

As you turned to walk away, Wonwoo grabbed your hand, stopping you in your tracks. “Where are you going?”

“I’m gonna go have some real fun. Dancing, drinking, maybe some games because I’m quite good at them,” you smiled, motioning to the chaos around you. “It’s a party after all.”

He released your arm and you couldn’t quite tell what expression he was wearing. “Have fun then.”

“Thanks. I will,” you said with a salute before disappearing into the crowd.

You didn’t see him around the house after that, neither did you try looking for him. You just enjoyed the night, trying to take him off of your mind and the nagging thought at the back of your mind that going after him would not result in anything but disappointment.

Early Saturday morning, you gathered at the school plaza with other members of the festival working group. You were set to leave at 9 am, and despite the hangover from last night, you managed to make it there on time—not without a splitting headache that a handful of other members seemed to share.

“Alright?” asked Wonwoo, appearing beside you with a slight scowl as you pressed your fingers to your forehead, trying to ease the pounding pain.

“Hi!” you greeted him, smiling from ear to ear only to wince again. “Ouch. My head is killing me.”

“And whose fault is that?” Wonwoo smirked.

Before you could retort, Jihoon hopped over, a small plastic bag in hand filled with water and medicine. “Here. It’ll help with the hangover,” he offered, his expression earnest.

You groaned dramatically, pouting at him. “Thanks a lot, Jihoon. You’re a literal angel.”

Jihoon’s cheeks flushed at the compliment, the corners of his mouth twitching into a bashful smile. “That’s… Well, it’s not much.”

“No, I mean it. You really are an angel. Your skin is so fair, it’s blinding,” you said, squinting playfully as if his glow was too bright to bear.

“Take the medicine if your head is hurting that much,” Wonwoo chided sternly on your other side, making you turn back to him.

“Oh, right,” you mumbled, opening the bag. You popped a pill in your mouth and fumbled with the bottle of water, struggling to twist the cap off. Just as Jihoon was about to help, Wonwoo snatched the bottle from your hand, effortlessly twisting it open. 

“Thanks,” you said, raising the bottle in appreciation. You mirrored the gesture to Jihoon, grinning widely. “Thanks, my angel.”

Soon, the rest of the group arrived, ready for the trip. Since the university didn’t sponsor this outing, you all had to pay for expenses and transportation. Some students had cars and agreed to carpool with those who didn’t.

Without giving it much thought, you headed straight to Wonwoo’s car, making yourself comfortable in the front seat like you belonged there.

He didn’t seem to mind, though he did ask, “Are you carpooling with me? I thought you were going in Jihoon’s car.”

“Oh, he didn’t invite me. We’re not that close,” you replied, buckling your seatbelt. “Besides, I’d rather ride you.”

You noticed his hand freeze mid-air, the awkward silence that followed stretching between you like a taut string.

“With you!” you said in a panic. “I meant to say, I’d rather ride with you.”

Wonwoo nodded with a blank expression. “Yeah. I know,” he said coolly.

You chuckled awkwardly, looking outside his window and mentally cursing yourself. When the other cars started driving away, you realized that Wonwoo still hadn’t turned on his engine.

“Are we waiting for someone?” you asked and he nodded.

“There he is,” he said, gesturing at Seokmin, who was rushing toward you with a backpack slung over one shoulder.

He yanked the backseat door open and hopped in immediately. “Wow. Thanks for not leaving me behind.”

“You had three minutes left,” Wonwoo replied, a hint of exasperation in his tone as he finally fired up the engine and drove out of the campus.

The car ride was filled with laughter as Seokmin took charge of the music, blasting upbeat tracks that made it impossible not to move. He sang along, his voice rising above the catchy beats, and every now and then, he added exaggerated dance moves from the passenger seat, making you and Wonwoo laugh.

“Can you believe we actually survived the festival?” Seokmin exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “I thought we’d end up in a full-on food fight or something! Just imagine it—streamers flying, popcorn everywhere, total chaos!”

You chuckled, picturing the scene, however impossible it was. “Yeah, and we’d be the ones cleaning it up afterward.”

“Exactly! But it would’ve been legendary!” Seokmin insisted, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Next time, I’m bringing a water balloon launcher. Who’s in?”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his amusement. “You’d just end up hitting someone with that.”

“Details, details!” Seokmin waved off the concern. “It doesn’t matter as long as you had fun and made lots of memories.”

He stopped and gasped quietly as he watched you extend the iced coffee toward Wonwoo so he could take a sip. You noticed him only when Wonwoo had taken a sip and you’d placed the coffee back in the cup holder.

“What?” you asked.

“Why don’t you guys just kiss in front of me?”

Wonwoo scowled, glancing briefly at his friend. “Why would we do that?”

“Right?” you blurted, snorting. “Didn’t know you were kinky like that, Seokmin.”

Seokmin leaned back in his seat. “You guys. You know that’s not what I mean.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “I was just being nice, okay?”

“Right, just being nice,” Seokmin teased, wiggling his eyebrows. “But I mean, he didn’t look like he was complaining. When did he stop complaining about you invading his space?”

“Oh, he’s never complained to me before,” you replied, you didn’t even need to think about it.

Seokmin gasped dramatically. “He did not?”

“Not that I remember,” you said, peering at him in the backseat. “And I remember every single interaction we had,” you added with a proud smile.

“But he doesn’t like it when people are in his space,” said Seokmin, pointing at Wonwoo with a surprised expression. “He hates it.”

You shot a glance at Wonwoo, who kept his eyes on the road, his expression unreadable. “Enough, Seokmin. You’re gonna make her think I’m enjoying this.”

“Aren’t you?” he shot back with a grin. “I mean, who wouldn’t want a cute girl following him around, giving him drinks and all that?”

“Exactly!” you exclaimed. “Look at me! 1-800-hot-n-fun.”

Seokmin leaned between your seats, pointing a finger gun at your temple. “Excuse me, ma’am. You’re under arrest for being 10 out of 10 and 2 hot 2 handle.”

You and Seokmin burst out laughing, and even Wonwoo couldn’t hide his grin.

“Settle down, or I'll kick you two out of the car,” Wonwoo chided.

“Is it strange that I’m more invested in your relationship than you are?” Seokmin asked after a moment’s pause.

You shushed him. “Shut up. No one is more invested in our relationship than I am!”

As the miles rolled by, the countryside unfolded around you, with fields of wildflowers swaying in the breeze. Just as you were nearing the location, you had to stop at a gasoline station because Seokmin needed to use the restroom.

“How about you?” he asked, just as Seokmin had left the car.

“No, I’m good,” you replied, glancing at him and found him scrolling through his phone. He just hummed, eyes fixed on his screen.

You took in his features—handsome, of course, with that natural air of confidence he always seemed to carry. His jawline gave him an angular, sharp look, yet there was something almost delicate in the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, or the way his lashes fell gently against his skin when he blinked.

Your gaze fell to his lips—symmetrical with a defined cupid’s bow and subtle but natural fullness. There was that ever-present slight curve. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it always seemed like it was on the verge of one, and it made you wonder what it’d take to coax a real one out of him.

“You know,” you said, voice dripping with playful mischief, “you have really pretty lips.”

Wonwoo paused, blinking as if processing your comment. His eyes flicked to your mouth, and for a second, the silence between you seemed to thicken. But then he shifted his gaze back to the road, brushing off your words like it was nothing. “Thanks,” he replied, as nonchalant as ever.

At the back of your mind, you wonder if it was as soft as it appeared to be.

“Can you tie a cherry stem into a knot with your tongue?” you asked again, leaning a little closer with an innocent smile on your lips. 

You knew exactly what you were doing—the teasing tone, the loaded question. It was playful, sultry, but in a way that you could brush off if he didn’t bite. You fully expected his usual indifferent response.

Then again, there was the possibility that maybe he’d pick up your hints this time, and maybe he’d do something about the tension that was building up between you right at this moment. Maybe—

“I don’t think anyone can,” he answered flatly, the corner of his mouth barely twitching.

You threw your hands up dramatically. “Oh my god. What was I expecting?” you groaned, looking away.

Wonwoo remained quiet, so you glanced back at him. You met his eyes, dark with an intensity that you hadn’t seen before. His jaw was clenched tightly, and somehow it felt as though you had done something wrong.

“What?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

He didn’t say anything. He just unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned towards you. Before you could react, he was already cupping the back of your head and crashing his lips into yours.

You were momentarily stunned, grappling with the sensation of his lips pressing against yours. He tightened his grip on your head, tilting it just right, allowing him to kiss you more deeply. It was firm, yet slow, like he’d been thinking about it for much longer than you’d realized. You closed your eyes as you melted into him, kissing him back with a rhythm that made your skin prickle with the warmth that was slowly creeping into your chest. Your heart raced in its cage—so wildly that you swore Wonwoo could feel it echoing in his own.

When he finally pulled back, his expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of triumph in his eyes.

“So?” His voice was low, teasing. “Can I?”

You blinked, still a little dazed. “Huh?”

He smirked, the smug confidence catching you off guard. “Can I tie a cherry stem into a knot with my tongue?”

Your mouth fell open in disbelief before you burst out laughing, the tension between you now crackling in the air. “Y-yeah,” you stammered, the flustered grin spreading across your face. “Absolutely. You’re amazing. Basically a pro. Heh.”

Luckily, Seokmin arrived before the mood could get any more awkward. He did notice the shift between you, but when he asked about it, you just brushed it off. Deep inside, you were reeling in the bliss of kissing Wonwoo—wait, no—of being kissed by Wonwoo.

You soon arrived at the villa, its warm stone exterior blending beautifully with the surrounding trees. There was a welcoming warmth to it, and you hoped it was as comfortable as it looked.

“Wow, this place is massive,” Seokmin commented dramatically as he stepped out of the car, looking up at the villa as if it were a five-star resort.

Just then, a girl with beautiful long hair and a bright smile appeared on the porch. “Hey, guys! You made it!” she called out, waving enthusiastically. 

“Claire?” Seokmin blurted, evidently surprised.

“Seokmin!” she squealed, running to him for a quick hug.

You noticed Wonwoo stiffen slightly at the sight of her, his expression shifting as he watched the reunion. It didn’t go unnoticed by you, but Claire seemed blissfully unaware.

“What are you doing here?” Seokmin asked, backing away with a neutral expression.

The student council president came out before Claire could respond. “You’ve arrived! Good. Good. Have you met Claire?” he said, smiling at Claire. “Claire here was kind enough to offer their family villa, so this is going to be our home for the weekend.”

“Oh, I know these guys. We go way back,” said Claire, referring to Seokmin and Wonwoo.

Prez introduced you to her and Claire’s smile widened as she extended her hand to you. “Nice to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you too!” you replied, trying to match her enthusiasm. You were still processing the sudden tension in the air, especially from Wonwoo.

“Come on in! The others are waiting.”

As the president guided you inside, you watched as Claire held Wonwoo by the arm and walked ahead of you. You felt a sudden surge of annoyance at her, clearly out of jealousy.

Seokmin leaned in to whisper in your ear. “That’s Wonwoo’s ex.”

The revelation hung in the air as you watched them. Wonwoo’s expression was blank, while Claire remained upbeat.

As you stepped further inside the villa, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this weekend was going to be more complicated than you had anticipated.

The first order of business in the villa was dinner. After arriving early, everyone gathered around for snacks and chatted, but by dinner time, the group split into two—those helping in the kitchen and those exploring the villa.

You hadn’t planned on helping out in the kitchen, but when you noticed only a few had volunteered, you reluctantly joined in. A mistake, you realized, as your eyes drifted to the living room where Wonwoo sat with Claire beside him. She looked far too comfortable, leaning in close as they talked, her laughter ringing out over the murmur of conversations. Your chest tightened at the sight, the feeling of irritation and insecurity creeping up on you. 

It’s fine. He’s allowed to have a past, you told yourself, gripping the knife a little tighter as you sliced through a watermelon. But does she have to sit so close? Exes shouldn’t be too nice to each other. And does she have to appear now?

“Hey, focus!” Jihoon’s voice cut through your thoughts as he nudged your shoulder. “You’re going to cut yourself if you’re not careful.”

“Oh, shit,” you muttered, blinking down at the cutting board. You had nearly reached the end of the watermelon and were dangerously close to nicking your finger

“Why are you so distracted?” Jihoon teased, glancing briefly at Wonwoo and Claire before turning back to the stove. “Relax. He’s yours. I’m sure of it.”

You let out a dry laugh, though your stomach twisted. “You can’t be so sure. Not with his ex clinging to him like that.”

“I don’t know... He’s heading this way now, so I think I’m right,” Woozi replied, stirring the contents of the pan with a knowing smile.

Before you could process Jihoon’s words, Wonwoo appeared beside you. His presence made the kitchen feel smaller.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his gaze fixed on the watermelon as he gently nudged you aside. His body brushed against yours as he took the knife from your hand, his touch lingering a little longer than necessary. He began slicing the fruit with ease.

Your pulse quickened. “What do you think?” you pouted, stepping aside but staying close enough for your elbows to brush every now and then.

“I think you’re trying to get my attention. Getting hurt and all,” he replied, making your jaw drop. He laughed at your expression. “Aren’t you?”

“I wasn’t hurt,” you told him, rolling your eyes although your heart was fluttering at the sight of his smile. “And even if I did want your attention, I don’t need to hurt myself to get it.”

Wonwoo nodded, agreeing. “You’re right. You don’t need to. It’s one of your many talents.”

You took a paring knife and started slicing the pears, scooting closer to Wonwoo so your elbows touched slightly. “Seokmin told me Claire was your ex.”

Wonwoo hummed in response, not looking up from the watermelon he was slicing. “She is. Freshman year.”

You stopped the urge to roll your eyes. “So you did believe in love.”

“Just because I had girlfriends before doesn’t mean I believe in love.” 

“You know, I heard somewhere that people who claim not to believe in love tend to be the most hopeless romantic individuals to ever walk the Earth.”

“Whoever said that was lying,” he replied, shoving a small piece of watermelon in your mouth, his fingers lightly brushing your lips.

You chewed slowly, feeling a blush creep up your neck. The way Wonwoo’s eyes lingered on your lips didn’t go unnoticed by you. On an ordinary day, that would be a good opportunity to make fun of him, but after what happened in the car earlier, you could not bring yourself to tease him.

He cleared his throat, looking away and resuming his task. You glanced around, suddenly feeling self-conscious and didn’t know where to put your hand, so you grabbed a slice of watermelon.

“It’s very sweet. Try it,” you said, offering the slice to him.

Without looking, Wonwoo leaned sideways to you and took a bite of the fruit. You instantly regretted that because now you were the one staring at his lips, recalling the vivid imagery of earlier’s kiss.

“Wonwoo!” a voice called out from the living room, snapping you out of your imaginations. It was Claire and she didn’t have anything to say, just waving at Wonwoo with a smile.

You glanced at Wonwoo who didn’t even bother to show a reaction, let alone respond.

“Does it bother you that she’s here?” you asked, your voice softer now, more curious than playful.

He paused, his gaze finally meeting yours. “No, it doesn’t bother me.”

“So you’re unbothered?”

“I’m unbothered.”

You tilted your head, eyes narrowing in playful suspicion. “You know, I heard that people who say they’re unbothered tend to be... well, very bothered.”

Wonwoo let out a small, resigned laugh, finally setting the knife down. His gaze softened as he turned to face you fully. “Again with your odd wisdom.” He raised an eyebrow, his tone teasing but warm. “What’s next? People who claim to have allergies aren’t actually allergic?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far,” you shot back, laughing. “Allergies are backed by science. But being bothered when you’re in the same room as your ex? That’s a little harder to prove. Just like not believing in love.”

“You’re too smart for your own good,” he said sarcastically. “I might need to practice my patience so I can keep up with your antics.”

“Oh? You’ll do that instead of telling me to leave you alone?”

Wonwoo scowled lightly. “Did you forget what Seokmin said? That I hate it when people bother me?” he asked, reaching to tuck a few stray hairs behind your ear. “I don’t hate you, so I won’t tell you to leave me alone.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but before you could reply, Claire’s voice carried over from the living room, breaking the moment. You glanced over, watching as she stood up, her eyes briefly meeting Wonwoo’s before she looked away.

I have a feeling in my gut that she’s doing this on purpose, you thought to yourself, narrowing your eyes slightly at the other girl.

“Dinner’s almost ready!” someone called from the kitchen, pulling your attention back.

Wonwoo didn’t seem to notice Claire at all as he turned to the stove to help Jihoon with the final touches. After that, you moved to the backyard just as the evening settled into a cool, dusky warmth. 

The smell of barbecue filled the air, rich and smoky. The large grill crackled and popped as steaks, skewers, and vegetables sizzled under Seokmin’s watchful—albeit playful—eye. You could hear him narrating the process dramatically to anyone who would listen, complete with sound effects.

“And now, behold! The perfectly grilled steak, sizzling under my masterful technique,” Seokmin proclaimed, waving his spatula like a wand.

You sat at one of the long picnic tables on the patio, nursing a cold drink and watching the light from the grill flicker across the faces of your friends. Wonwoo sat beside you, quietly observing the scene while Claire—who had rejoined the group—chatted animatedly with some others across the table. You were trying not to feel too aware of her presence, but it was impossible not to glance her way now and then.

“Hey, are you going to give me a hand, or are you just going to sit there looking cute?” Seokmin called to you with a playful wink.

You snorted, setting your drink down and getting up. “You know, you can’t use that line for everything.”

Seokmin shook his head, grinning widely. “Who said it’s a line? You just happen to look cute all the time, okay? Now, get over here and help me with the skewers.”

Wonwoo chuckled beside you, and you gave him a teasing glance as you headed toward the grill. “Don’t laugh too much, or you’ll be next on Seokmin’s target list.”

“I’ll pass,” Wonwoo replied dryly, though his eyes followed you with a hint of amusement.

You reached the grill, where Seokmin handed you a plate of marinated vegetables to arrange onto skewers. “So, how’s it going over there with Mr. Mysterious?” Seokmin asked in a low voice, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as he leaned closer.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “What do you mean?”

Seokmin nudged you with his elbow. “Don’t play dumb. I saw how you and Wonwoo were looking at each other earlier. You’re practically making out with your eyes.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the smile tugging at your lips. “Okay, you win. You are more invested in our relationship than me.”

“I told, didn’t I?” he asked, giving you a knowing grin. “I’ve known the guy for ages. He’s not usually this... I don’t know, present. It’s like he actually pays attention when you’re around. Normally, he’s off in his own world.”

You opened your mouth to respond but were interrupted when Wonwoo appeared at your side, casually grabbing one of the skewers you had just finished assembling.

“Hey!” you exclaimed, laughing. “You’re supposed to let them cook first.”

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, popping a piece of bell pepper into his mouth. “It’s good raw.”

Seokmin gasped dramatically. “It’s what?”

Wonwoo flicked Seokmin’s forehead, discouraging his thoughts. “Take your mind out of the gutters.”

Seokmin rubbed the part of his forehead that Wonwoo flicked, grinning at you and wiggling his eyebrows knowingly. You playfully swatted his arm with the back of your hand.

“So dirty-minded, go away,” you scolded though you were grinning.

Wonwoo smiled softly, and for a moment, the noise of the group around you faded. His gaze held yours, and you felt that familiar warmth spread through your chest again, that quiet tension that always seemed to hover between you.

Seokmin cleared his throat loudly, breaking the moment. “Okay, lovebirds, enough with the eyes! We’ve got mouths to feed.”

You blushed, turning back to the skewers as Seokmin gave you a teasing grin. He leaned over and whispered, “See? What did I say? Sparks.”

“Shut up,” you muttered, though you couldn’t help smiling.

Seokmin sighed reminiscently. “Man, I’m so single. I wish the others were here too.”

“Right? I would’ve been fun to have them here,” you noted, remembering your rowdy friends.

“We should do this again with them. Say ‘yes’.”

“Yes,” you replied, not missing a beat. “Absolutely, yes.”

As the grilling continued, you could hear laughter and chatter all around—Seokmin’s over-the-top narrations, Jihoon offering sarcastic commentary from where he stood near the grill, and Claire’s voice chiming in from the table, still carrying that same vibrant energy she had when you first arrived.

Once the food was ready, everyone gathered around the picnic tables, the platters piled high with grilled meats, skewers, and sides. The scent of charred meat and fresh herbs mixed with the cool evening breeze. The plates clinked as people passed around dishes, and conversations overlapped in the comfortable chaos of friends enjoying a good meal.

You found a spot next to Wonwoo again, your plate full, though you were more focused on the way his knee brushed against yours under the table. Each little touch felt like a secret between the two of you, unnoticed by everyone else.

Across the table, Prez pointed his fork at you and Wonwoo, grinning. “You two are awfully close for two people who aren’t dating.”

You almost choked on your food, but Wonwoo calmly sipped his drink, completely unfazed. “We’re just eating, Prez,” he said, but his hand landing gently on your thigh under the table contradicted his statement.

“Yeah, and sitting suspiciously close while doing it,” Seokmin quipped, wiggling his eyebrows. “Just saying. The grill master knows things.”

“You really need to stop calling yourself that,” one of your companions teased, shaking her head at Seokmin.

Seokmin gasped dramatically. “Excuse me, ma’am, but this title is earned through years of culinary excellence and—”

“Hey, Claire, do you think Seokmin deserves the title of ‘grill master’?” someone called from the other end of the table, cutting off his exaggerated speech.

Claire, who had been quiet for a while, looked up with a smile. “I mean, he did a good job, but I wouldn’t go that far.”

The group erupted into laughter, and Seokmin threw his hands up in defeat. “Fine, fine. I’ll accept the demotion.”

As the laughter died down, you felt Wonwoo lean a little closer, thumb rubbing your thigh over your jeans. He didn’t say anything, but the way he quietly stayed by your side, even in the midst of all the noise, spoke volumes.

The evening carried on, full of easy laughter, good food, drunk anecdotes, and the soft glow of lanterns that lit up the patio as night fell. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this light, this content, as the warmth of the barbecue wrapped around you like a comfortable blanket and the buzz of alcohol numbed the cold air hitting your skin.

“You alright?” Wonwoo asked, placing a hand over your back as you were resting your head on the table.

Everyone had gone back inside, save for a few others who continued their drinking by the poolside. You and Wonwoo were the only ones left at the table, mainly because you were tired and he didn’t want to leave you.

You sat up and stared at him. “My god, you’re so handsome. I could kiss you.”

“You’re drunk.”

You snort. “I’m not drunk. I never get drunk!” you paused, staring at your index finger. “Actually, I did get drunk… once, twice? Was it thrice? I don’t remember. Anyway!”

You took a deep breath and tucked your hair behind your ears. “Even if I’m not drunk, I always want to kiss you.”

“You do?” he questioned, amused.

You stood up and stepped closer to him, he remained in his seat, watching you with soft eyes. You wobbled a bit but Wonwoo caught your arms firmly, keeping you steady. You held his face with your hands, squeezing his cheeks slightly. “Don’t dodge this, okay?”

“So? Did you…” Seungcheol paused, hesitating. There was a hint of embarrassment on his face as he finished his sentence. “...kiss?”

You laughed, lolling your head back. “You’re a grown-ass man and you’re hesitating to say the word ‘kiss’?”

Seungcheol shifted uncomfortably in his seat, looking away with a small pout. That expression intrigued you, surprised to know he could make such a face. Then again, what do you really know about him?

“It’s not my fault. The mood of your story is quite… I’m not sure what to call it. Innocent? In a way?”

“I get what you mean. But to answer your question, we didn’t kiss,” you jeered, rolling your eyes. “I blacked out and forgot, but he told me that we didn’t kiss. He dodged it.”

“You believed that?”

You shrugged. “Wonwoo had no reason to lie about it. I mean, that’s just out of character for him.”

“I see,” said Seungcheol, thinking. “So? What happened next?”

You groaned, taking a big sip of your drink before continuing. “Remember Claire?”

“Yeah, we do not like her.”

“Good, she’s annoying,” you said, rolling your eyes. “She was even more annoying the next day after that...”

Prez had a hike planned for the next day. The area was a popular spot for its beautiful river up the mountain, so you all agreed to go. When you heard a knock on your door, you had expected it to be Wonwoo, but instead, Jihoon’s smile greeted you.

“Looks like we’re carpooling today,” he said.

“We are?” you asked, blinking in confusion.

Jihoon gave a half-shrug. “Yeah, I thought the same. Figured you’d be with Wonwoo, but apparently, he already left.”

“Wonwoo’s gone?” You tried to keep your voice steady, masking the sting of disappointment that followed his words.

“Yeah, he headed out early with Prez, Claire, and a few others,” Jihoon explained, noticing the subtle shift in your expression.

You forced a smile, quickly masking the sinking feeling in your chest. “Well, can’t be helped. I’ll just grab my jacket.”

“Take your time. Calum’s not even ready yet, so we’ve got a bit.” Jihoon leaned against the doorframe as you moved back inside to grab your things.

“Who else is with us?” you asked, emerging with your jacket and a small backpack.

“Just Calum,” Jihoon replied with a smirk. “Which means we get to listen to him complain the whole way.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Well, we better go before he decides to ditch us too.”

As the three of you arrived at the foot of the mountain, you spotted the rest of the group already gathered around the guide for a quick briefing. Your eyes immediately searched for Wonwoo. Sure enough, he and Seokmin were at the front of the line, both seemingly unaware that you’d arrived. A strange tension filled the air as your gaze lingered on Wonwoo, but you quickly pushed it aside, focusing on the hike ahead.

“Okay! Everybody ready to go?” the guide asked and everyone responded with a chorus of yesses.

You saw Wonwoo scanning the crowd behind him, stopping only when he locked eyes with you. There was a subtle change in his expression, something softer as if in recognition of you. He patted Prez on the back, saying something to him before he jogged toward you.

“There you are,” he said with a small smile. “I thought you weren’t coming?”

“Who said that?” you asked, genuinely perplexed. 

“Claire. She said she heard you tell someone that you weren’t coming out today.”

You smirked, annoyed at Claire and her obvious attempt to sabotage you. “And you didn’t think to check with me?”

Wonwoo shrugged. “I didn’t wanna wake you. You seemed pretty drunk last night.”

The annoyance you were feeling suddenly dissipated, replaced by shame as you recalled trying to kiss him last night. You looked away, covering your mouth in shock.

“Are you shy?” he asked, chuckling lightly. “That’s new.”

You tutted at him and hit his arm playfully. “Shut up.”

He chuckled, casually taking your sling bag and wearing it across his chest. “I’ll take this.”

You grinned playfully. “Are you a gentleman now? Is it because you’ve fallen in love with me?”

“No. I just don’t want to deal with you complaining about a heavy bag halfway through the hike.”

The hike started out smoothly, with the morning sun filtering through the trees. Your group moved at a comfortable pace, with chatter filling the air as you climbed higher, nearing the mountain’s scenic river. Claire—who somehow found a way to walk next to Wonwoo and you, was leading the conversation close to Wonwoo, which irritated you more than you’d like to admit. 

“Are you alright?” Jihoon asked quietly, his voice pulling you from your thoughts. He flashed you a knowing smirk, catching the direction of your gaze.

“I’m fine. Just… taking in the view,” you replied quietly.

Jihoon didn’t seem convinced but dropped the subject. “Well, we’re almost there. Save your energy. There’s still the climb up to the ridge,” he added, pointing ahead to a steeper incline.

You felt a hand on your back and glanced at Wonwoo who just smiled at you. As the group made its way up, the conversation turned to reminiscing about old hiking trips. Claire, of course, found her way into this again, laughing as she talked about a time she and Wonwoo had hiked a similar trail. 

“Wonwoo was such a show-off back then,” she said with a laugh, nudging him. “You remember that, right?”

You could hear the hint of nostalgia in her voice, but Wonwoo barely reacted. He just gave a polite nod, keeping his eyes on the trail ahead and his hand on your back. 

“I was younger. Probably didn’t know better.”

Claire smiled at his response, but there was something about the way she looked at him—like she was waiting for more. It twisted something in your chest.

“Yeah, when you’re younger, you make stupid decisions,” said Seokmin, laughing a tad bit louder than necessary. “You’re so relatable, man. I try to forget my stupid decisions too. Especially the worst ones.”

You didn’t know the context, but you grasped the picture Seokmin was trying to insinuate about Wonwoo and Claire’s history. For some reason, it made you feel better about yourself to know that Wonwoo’s friend didn’t like his ex.

After another thirty minutes of steady climbing, you reached the ridge, overlooking the crystal-clear river that sparkled in the distance. Everyone took a breath, the beauty of the view silencing the group momentarily.

“This spot is perfect!” Prez called out, breaking the stillness as he bounced forward with his phone, ready to take pictures. “Let’s get some photos, everyone!”

Some of the group began to gather for a group shot, while others wandered around, taking in the scenery. You stayed back, wanting to enjoy the moment without Claire’s constant presence.

After a few photos and a lot of teasing from Seokmin, everyone dispersed, walking back toward the trail to continue on. As you moved ahead, you glanced at Wonwoo, who seemed quieter than usual, lost in his thoughts. You wondered if it was Claire getting to him, or if he was just being his typical reserved self.

The hike continued around the river, with a playful challenge thrown in along the way. Seokmin, always full of energy, dared anyone to balance on a fallen log that stretched across a small stream.

“Come on, who’s got the best balance?” he called out, clapping his hands together. “It’s a rite of passage for this hike!”

Prez shook his head, grinning. “I’m out. I’ll leave that to the younger ones.”

Seokmin turned to you, eyebrows raised. “How about you? I bet you’ve got some hidden skills.”

You shook your head. “Have fun without me.”

“Come on!” Seokmin grinned, motioning for you to step up. “Just once. Let’s see who wins.”

“Fine. You asked for this,” you told him, taking off your jacket and tying it across your hips.

The challenge began, and as you wobbled your way across the log, the others cheered from the sidelines. Seokmin was right behind you, steady but focused, and you could feel his presence as you tried not to lose your balance. A few slips here and there, but you made it across, jumping off the log with a victorious grin.

“Not bad, not bad!” Seokmin cheered, clapping his hands as he followed behind you, landing with ease.

You were catching your breath when you noticed Claire, standing a bit too close to Wonwoo, again sharing some kind of inside joke. Your stomach twisted as you watched them, the sight more irritating than the thought of falling off the log.

Feeling a bit frustrated, you turned away, pretending to check your bag but realized it was with Wonwoo. You sighed again, and then suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned to see Wonwoo, holding out his water bottle.

“You didn’t bring water, did you?” he said simply, eyes soft but unreadable. “Drink up.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the gesture. “Oh… thanks.”

“Don’t wanna have to carry you all the way back.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing he was only trying to downplay his concern for you. “Of course, of course.”

You took the bottle, your frustration softening as you realized he’d been paying attention. It wasn’t much, but you loved it anyway. You basked in it—in his attention which seemed to be on you most of the time.

He didn’t say anything more, just walked beside you as the group started unloading their stuff for a quick lunch by the river. The others went for a swim, led by Seokmin, as expected. You quietly took a sip of the water, the cool water hydrating you as you glanced over at Wonwoo in his usual quiet demeanor. He handed you a sandwich that he’d peeled open for you. Even though he wasn’t saying much, his actions were enough, and you couldn’t help but wonder what exactly was going through his mind.

After lunch, Seokmin managed to talk you into looking for wild berries. The guide mentioned there were plenty of wild berries around, so it sounded like a harmless adventure. You walked with Seokmin, Jihoon, and a few others, but Wonwoo decided to sit this one out, saying he was a bit tired. You glanced back at him, wondering why he didn’t want to join. He simply gave you a small wave before sitting by the water’s edge, his quiet presence still lingering in your thoughts.

As you wandered deeper into the trees with the group, the sound of laughter and rustling bushes filled the air. Seokmin was practically bouncing from one patch of greenery to the next, exclaiming every time he found a small cluster of berries.

“Look, these are the good ones! I told you I had an eye for this!” he boasted, holding up a handful of bright red berries.

“Okay, okay! We know you’re the berry master,” you teased, bending down to pluck a few yourself. But as you reached for another low-hanging cluster, you misjudged your footing on a slippery rock. The moss-covered surface gave way under your shoe, and before you could catch yourself, you stumbled forward, scraping your hand against a sharp branch. A sharp sting shot through your palm, and you hissed in pain, clutching your hand.

“Ow!” You winced, inspecting the cut. It wasn’t deep, but a small trickle of blood appeared, and the sting was enough to make you stop in your tracks.

“Are you alright?” Jihoon was quick to notice, walking over to check on you.

You waved him off with a sheepish smile, trying not to make a big deal of it. “Yeah, I just slipped on a rock. It’s not that bad.”

Seokmin, always the dramatic one, rushed over too. “Whoa, are you bleeding? Should we get you back? Do we need a first aid kit? A stretcher?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “I’m fine. I just need to wash it off.”

But despite your attempts to brush it off, the sting lingered, and you felt a little foolish for not watching your step. Jihoon offered you his handkerchief to wrap around your hand for now. “Here, it’s not much, but it should help until we get back.”

“Thanks,” you muttered, feeling a bit more embarrassed than hurt.

After a while, the group decided it was time to head back to the riverbank. As you approached, the sight of Wonwoo sitting alone by the water came into view. He was gazing out at the stream, looking serene.

When he saw you returning, his eyes instantly dropped to your hand, the makeshift bandage catching his attention. Without a word, he stood up and walked over to you, his brow furrowed slightly.

“What happened?” he asked sternly, his gaze locking onto yours.

“Oh, I just slipped. It’s nothing, really,” you said, trying to sound casual, though the throbbing in your palm said otherwise.

Wonwoo, however, didn’t seem convinced. Without asking, he gently took your hand, carefully peeling back the cloth to look at the cut. His touch was soft but firm, and you felt your heart skip a beat as he inspected the wound.

“You should clean this properly,” he said, his voice low, a hint of concern in his tone.

“I will, it’s just—” you started, but he was already pulling you toward the river’s edge.

He crouched down by the water, motioning for you to follow. “Come here, rinse it off.”

You knelt beside him, dipping your hand into the cool water. The sting intensified for a moment before the fresh stream washed the dirt and blood away, leaving the cut cleaner. As if on cue, the guide appeared with a small first-aid kit, handing it to Wonwoo. He opened it, cleaning the wound with a steady hand before covering it with a Band-Aid.

“Here,” he murmured. “This should be better than that cloth.”

You glanced at your hand, grateful, but Wonwoo's next words caught you off guard.

“You said you don’t need to hurt yourself to get my attention?” he asked, an almost teasing glint in his eyes.

You blinked, caught between amusement and exasperation. “I didn’t do this on purpose! And you weren’t even there when it happened. How is this an attempt at getting your attention?”

“You came here with a wound,” he replied, his gaze softening slightly. “That got my attention.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “I didn’t ask for you to clean it up or worry about me.”

For a moment, his brow furrowed as he studied you. “You don’t want me to?”

“What? Of course, I do!” you stammered, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “But if you’re just going to hold it against me, no thanks. I’ll take care of myself.”

Wonwoo didn’t let the comment slide. “As if you have to take care of yourself. Lots of people will do that for you,” he said, scoffing as he nodded at Jihoon who was chatting animatedly with other people in a distance. “Like Jihoon, for example.”

You felt a spark of irritation flare. “God, I hope you’re saying that because you’re jealous.”

Wonwoo’s scoff came out a little too loud, and he quickly cleared his throat. “Why would I be jealous?”

“Exactly,” you said, pouting as you stood up abruptly, a wave of frustration rising in your chest. “You don’t like me enough to get jealous of other guys.”

Wonwoo stood up too, his expression softening just slightly. “Let’s go back together, okay? Don’t go with Jihoon.”

You crossed your arms, turning away. “Did you hear me complain when you came here with your ex?”

Wonwoo fell quiet for a second longer than expected. When you turned to look at him, he was smiling. You raised an eyebrow, making him chuckle lowly.

“You don't have to worry about her.”

“I'm not worried,” you denied, huffing. “Why would I be worried? I'm a 10. 2 hot 2 handle.”

Wonwoo chuckled, pulling you by the waist and wiping your damp forehead. “Don't hang out with Seokmin too much, you're starting to sound like him.”

You didn't say anything, too caught up in the feeling of being close to him to form a coherent sentence.

“Come on. Let’s pack up,” he said, quietly dismissing whatever it was that just happened between you.

After the hike, you all went back to the villa to pack and get ready for the long drive home. Everyone seemed to be moving in slow, tired motions, still buzzing with the high of a day spent outdoors, but ready to settle into the comfort of a car seat. You grabbed your jacket and water bottle, feeling a slight soreness from the hike, but overall content with how the day had gone.

When Wonwoo finished loading your stuff in the trunk, you made your way to the shotgun and sat there while waiting to leave. Claire appeared at your window, startling you a little. She was smiling as she knocked.

“Hi, Won,” she greeted as if she couldn’t see you there. “You didn’t forget your promise, right? That you’d give me a ride back?”

“Of course,” Wonwoo replied.

“Yay, thank you!” she said, opening the front seat door, much to your confusion.

Claire stared at you for a while, making you feel self-conscious all of a sudden. You gave her an inquiring look, which she returned with a raised eyebrow, gesturing for you to get off.

“Do you want me to get off so you can sit here?” you asked aloud, genuinely curious. “Seriously?”

“What’s going on?” Wonwoo asked, making you glance at him.

Claire spoke before you could respond. “Oh, I don’t mean to offend you or anything. It’s just… well, I get woozy when I sit in the backseat for long drives. Wonwoo knows this. I hope you understand.”

Her words seemed innocent enough, but her tone grated on you. You glanced at Wonwoo, half-expecting him to shoot down the excuse for what it was—a blatant attempt to sit next to him. Instead, he gave a simple nod, signaling for you to move.

Your heart sank. Seriously? It was obvious what she was doing. Glaringly obvious. And yet, he was just... fine with it? You bit back your frustration, forcing a polite smile as you got out of the shotgun seat.

“Oh, thanks a lot! You’re such an angel,” Claire gushed as she slipped into the seat beside Wonwoo. Her voice was dripping with exaggerated sweetness, but there was a glint of malice in her eyes that you were sure only you could see because her back was on Wonwoo.

“I have snacks,” she added to Wonwoo, pulling out a bag. “We can share it. I know you like to nibble on something when driving.”

Still silent, deadpan, you slid into the backseat, trying not to let it bother you. You stared out the window, hoping something—anything—would distract you from the irritation building up. Then you spotted Seokmin jogging toward the car, his usual carefree grin plastered on his face.

That was a relief. Seokmin is fun so you’d probably be too busy laughing to even notice the two other people in front of you.

You moved to open the door for him, but he went straight to knock on Wonwoo’s window.

“What’s going on? I thought you said you were too tired to drive?” Seokmin called through the rolled-down window.

“Yeah, I was waiting for you,” Wonwoo replied, his voice light as he opened the door to step out.

You blinked in confusion as Seokmin slid into the driver’s seat, chatting animatedly. Wonwoo made his way to the back, where you sat still trying to piece together what just happened. When he reached for the door, you instinctively tugged it shut, surprising both of you.

“Oh, sorry,” you blurted, opening it again quickly, your cheeks flushing. Wonwoo raised an eyebrow but said nothing, just chuckled softly as he pulled the door open himself.

He settled next to you, draping an arm over the seat. “Where’s our blanket?” he asked, glancing around.

“Our—” you started, then caught yourself. “It’s… uh… there!”

You pointed toward the compartment near the gear shift. Wonwoo reached for it, undoing the fold and casually covering himself with it.

“Hey, I brought that for myself,” you protested, though there was no real heat behind your words.

“I’m cold. If you need it, you can scoot closer,” he teased, the corners of his mouth twitching into a small smile.

“Don’t just hog it,” you complained, tugging the blanket but Wonwoo tutted, glaring at you playfully before scooting closer to you and covering you with the blanket.

Seokmin, who had been fiddling with the car’s controls, sighed dramatically, tilting his head toward you two. “I’ve never felt so single until now.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips was undeniable. As the car finally started moving, you caught Claire’s icy stare in the rearview mirror.  She was not enjoying the ride at all, and you hadn’t even left the parking lot yet.

The ride back to the university had been a blur. After the initial chatter and laughter, the exhaustion from the hike finally caught up to you. You vaguely remembered the sound of Seokmin’s playful banter, Claire’s chipper voice fading in and out, and the muffled conversations that filled the car, but most of it was a fog.

By the time you woke up, the sun had dipped lower in the sky. You blinked groggily, your eyes taking a moment to adjust. It was then you realized your head was resting on Wonwoo’s arm, nestled comfortably against his shoulder. The scent of his hoodie filled your senses, and you stiffened slightly, unsure how long you’d been using him as your personal pillow.

You hesitated to move, not wanting to wake him if he had dozed off too, but then you felt him shift. His arm flexed slightly under your weight, and you quickly sat up, feeling your face grow warm as you straightened yourself.

“Sorry, was I heavy?” you started, voice still heavy with sleep.

Wonwoo turned his head toward you, a soft smile playing on his lips. “It’s fine. You looked tired.” His voice was calm, as if it was no big deal, and somehow that made you relax a little.

You glanced out the window to see familiar buildings coming into view. The car was already pulling into the university parking lot, the journey back seemingly much shorter than expected—probably because you’d slept through most of it.

Seokmin was the first to break the silence from the front seat, stretching dramatically as the car came to a stop. “Finally! I thought we’d be driving forever.”

Claire, who had been unusually quiet toward the end of the ride, turned in her seat to glance at you and Wonwoo with a tight smile. “Did you get enough sleep back there?” she asked, her tone sugary but edged.

You smiled politely, pretending not to notice the underlying tone of her question. “Yeah, I feel better now, thanks.”

Stepping out of the car, you pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders as the cool evening breeze hit you. Wonwoo came around the side of the car, his backpack slung over one shoulder and yours in his hand, his expression as calm and unreadable as always. You walked together in silence toward the dorms, the sounds of your friends’ voices fading behind you.

“I guess that’s the end of our little trip,” you said softly, breaking the quiet between you.

“Yeah,” Wonwoo replied, glancing over at you. “It was fun.”

You nodded, the memory of the hike and the car ride settling into something softer, quieter. You couldn’t recall every detail of the trip, but a few things stuck with you—the feeling of warmth each time he attended to you, the quiet closeness that had lingered in the space between you, and although it had been a silly joke, the kiss that you shared with him in the car.

At the dorm entrance, he paused, turning to you with a small flicker of worry on his face. “How’s your hand?”

“This? Oh, it’s totally fine,” you said, showing him your hand. “You took really good care of it.”

Wonwoo gave a slight nod, his lips curling into a faint smile.

He walked you all the way to your room, with your bag in his hand while you kept talking to him, asking him this and that like a curious toddler. 

“What are you doing today?”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Probably working on an assignment.”

You raised a brow, pushing the conversation further. “And after that?”

“Gaming, maybe,” he replied with a small smirk, clearly entertained by your persistent questioning.

You tilted your head, pretending to think deeply. “Do you need help with the assignment?”

He gave a short laugh, shaking his head. “No, I’ve got it.”

As you reached the door to your room, you hesitated, glancing at him. The idea of letting the day end here felt anticlimactic, and you weren’t ready to let it slip away so easily. He stood there, still holding your bag, his usual calm expression giving nothing away. 

“Do you wanna come in for a bit?” you asked, glancing at him. 

He blinked, a little surprised. “Why?”

“So I can hang out with you more,” you answered honestly, flashing him a playful smile. “You can get started on that assignment and I promise not to bother you too much.”

His eyes flickered to the door, then back to you, his lips quirking into that small, barely-there smile he often wore. “Sure.”

You opened the door and stepped inside, the cool air from your room greeting you as you flicked on the lights. It wasn’t much—a cozy little dorm room with just enough space for a bed, desk, a single couch, a built-in closet, and a small shelf where you kept a stash of snacks.

“Make yourself comfortable,” you said, motioning to the small couch by the window. You placed your bag down and went over to the mini-fridge. “I’ve got some juice or water. Or… ah, here we go,” you smiled, pulling out a couple of sodas. “Would you like some?”

Wonwoo took a seat, casually stretching his long legs out in front of him, his gaze following you as you handed him a can. He accepted it with a nod, popping it open with a soft hiss. The sound filled the quiet room, making the moment feel more intimate somehow.

He opened his laptop and began working, but you couldn’t help glancing over at him every now and then. The subtle shift of his focus, the way his fingers moved over the keyboard—it was distracting in a way you weren’t expecting. You grabbed a bag of chips and sat on the floor next to the couch, close enough that your shoulder pressed slightly on his leg.

“Why are you on the floor?” he asked, reaching for the side of your head and rubbing his thumb through your hair.

“I don’t wanna eat on the bed,” you replied, leaning slightly in his touch. “I’m fine, you can keep working,” you added, pulling up an app on your phone.

You were content with the quiet—both of you immersed in your own different bubbles, but still feeling the warmth radiating from each other. You didn’t think you’d actually keep your promise to be quiet and let him work, but here you are.

“So, about the hike…” Wonwoo said after a while, leaning back into the cushions as he stretched out his fingers. “Did you enjoy it?”

You took a sip of your soda, trying to act nonchalant. “Yeah, it was nice. Different.”

“Different?”

“In a good way.” You smiled. “I didn’t expect to have that much fun either. Well, except for the part where I hurt myself,” you added with a playful grimace, showing him your bandaged hand again.

Wonwoo’s eyes softened as he glanced at your hand. “Just be careful next time.”

There was a pause. You could feel him watching you, and when you finally looked up to meet his gaze, there was something in his eyes that made you feel both nervous and confident at the same time. It felt like the perfect moment to say something, to push the boundary of whatever this tension was between you.

Wonwoo put his laptop away. “Come here,” he said, patting his lap.

You stood up almost immediately, placing your arm around his neck as you lowered yourself down on his toned thighs. Not many words were exchanged between you—you didn’t need to anyway, you both knew exactly what you wanted.

Wonwoo’s lips met yours in a soft, lingering touch, as if testing the waters. But after a second, a wave of heat surged through you, and you felt your entire body come alive. His lips were soft, warm, and tasted faintly of the soda he'd had earlier, and you couldn’t help but lean in closer, deepening the kiss.

He responded almost immediately, a low, quiet sound escaping him as his hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him. His fingers dug into your sides, not harshly, but enough to make your breath hitch. The room around you disappeared—there was no bed, no walls, no anything. Just the two of you lost in each other.

Your lips parted, allowing the kiss to deepen, and when his tongue swept across your lower lip, a shiver ran down your spine. It wasn’t just a kiss anymore. It was something more, something primal, and hot—very hot. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more of him, and he obliged, his lips moving against yours with more urgency, more need.

You gasped when his teeth grazed your lower lip, the sensation sending a shock of pleasure through your body, and your knees weakened. His arms tightened around you, holding you steady, as though he could sense how much you were melting into him.

When you pulled back, you were in awe, staring at him with your mouth hanging open. Wonwoo smiled a content smile—proud, even, as he traced the outline of your face with his thumb.

“Wow, that was so much better than what we did in the car,” you blurted before you could think about it. “I mean… heh. Not saying that one was bad, just, you know. This one is better.”

He chuckled softly, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer before reaching for his laptop. His focus reverted back to his work, which caught you off-guard since you were still sitting on his lap, with his hand supporting your back.

He’s not seriously going back to his assignment, is he? you pondered, a bit disappointed. But he did, pulling you closer slightly as he used his two hands to type.

You casually slid out of his lap, sitting your butt on the armrest, but he held your legs in place just as you were about to get off completely, so you just left it there. For the next hour, you sat there together, him working on his assignment, and you scrolling through your phone.

You were both silent—he’d always been quiet, but you? Your mouth may be quiet, but your mind is spiraling—overthinking, replaying, wondering, and projecting different scenarios in your head—all while celebrating another blissful kiss from Wonwoo.

In the days that followed, things between you and Wonwoo felt different— and unmistakably so. It wasn’t just the quiet, stolen glances anymore, or the playful teasing that came so naturally. There was a shift in the way you interacted, in the way he smiled more often, and in how he seemed more comfortable around you.

Before, it had always been you who initiated any kind of physical touch in public—holding his hand, a playful nudge, resting your head on his shoulder when you were tired. But now, it was him, too. Wonwoo would casually drape an arm across the back of your chair when you sat together in the library, or he'd give your shoulder a quick squeeze as you passed him by in the hallway. In private, he would hold your hand, or rest his hand on your thigh when you were out with friends. There was nothing over the top about it—just small, simple gestures—but the warmth of it lingered each time, leaving your heart racing a little faster.

One afternoon, you both sat in a quiet corner of a cafe, sipping iced coffee while you pretended to focus on your assignments. Wonwoo was clicking away on his laptop, his attention mostly on the screen, but every now and then, he’d look up, meet your gaze, and flash you that rare, quiet smile that made you melt just a little.

“You’ve been smiling a lot lately,” you teased, narrowing your eyes at him.

He didn’t look up, but his lips curved upward. “What? I always smile.”

“Not like this. You’ve been smiling because of me.”

Wonwoo finally met your gaze, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation. “I smile for a lot of people.”

“Oh? Do you kiss a lot of people too?” you shot back, leaning forward and watching as a faint flush touched his ears.

He shook his head, still smiling but retreating behind his usual mask of aloofness. “That was a fluke. And I didn’t kiss you, you kissed me.”

You gasped dramatically. “You filthy little liar!”

He simply chuckled but didn’t argue further. Instead, he glanced over at your half-empty cup and nudged it toward you. “Finish your drink, or you’ll complain about all the ice melting away later.”

Your heart fluttered at the subtle care behind his words. Wonwoo wasn’t the type to outwardly fawn over anyone, but these little moments showed how much he paid attention. You wanted to impress him, so you drained your cup in one go, even though you were already full. He chuckled softly, giving you a look that said he saw right through you.

It wasn’t all just the proximity and teasing, though. You’d started noticing how you both went out of your way to take care of each other. You would save him snacks from lunch or remind him about deadlines, just wanting to show you cared. He, in turn, would grab an extra coffee for you in the mornings or walk you to class when it got dark, without making a big deal out of it. He was thoughtful, considerate—genuinely so.

Later that evening, you met up with him for dinner at a small restaurant near the campus, you greeted him with your usual chipper smile.

“Is that a scrunchie?” you asked, eyeing the yellow lace scrunchie around his pulse.

“Hmh?” He glanced at his wrist. “Oh. Yeah, it’s a backup.”

“Backup?”

“You keep losing yours when we go out. I got this for backup.”

“Aw. You’re so obsessed with me and I totally understand. I mean—” With flair, you flicked your hair out of your shoulder. “Just look at me.”

“Don’t push it,” he warned, taking the scrunchie from his wrist and handing it to you. “Fix your hair. I don’t want it in my soup.”

You took it with a teasing grin. “Thanks. You could have just gotten those plain black hair ties though. That way, I wouldn’t feel too bad for losing them.”

“I thought it would look good on you,” he mumbled but you heard him just fine.

Out of habit, you would’ve teased him—asked if he’s falling for you. But the way he looked away with the tiniest hint of shyness, the red tint on his ears, and the slight furrow of his brows—they all made your heart race. You needed not to ask, the fact was staring right back at you.

The thought of Wonwoo finally falling in love with you was daunting—terrifying in the best way. But you didn’t know how to navigate this phase.

You decided to keep things playful, like always. “Are you falling in love with me, Jeon Wonwoo?” you teased, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

Wonwoo scoffed, leaning back in his chair with an air of practiced indifference. “I’m not falling in love with anyone,” he denied smoothly.

“Maybe not,” you shot back, a knowing grin curling your lips. “But you definitely like me.”

Just then, the server approached, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes and a gentle smile. “Oh, to be young again,” she said, her gaze flitting between you two. “You two look adorable together. How long have you been dating?”

“We’re not dating,” you said automatically, flashing the woman a charming smile. “It’s just me. I like him a lot, and he’s… well, he’s just putting up with my antics.” You scrunched your nose for added effect, fully expecting the server to move on.

But the woman tilted her head thoughtfully. “Isn’t that what a couple is?” she said, her smile widening.

You blinked, taken aback by her question. “Sorry?”

“If you like him, and he puts up with all your silly antics,” she continued with a hearty laugh, “then you’re a couple.”

Your heart skipped a beat, the teasing atmosphere suddenly charged with a different kind of tension. You glanced at Wonwoo, half-expecting him to deny it too. But he just stared back at you, lips quirking into an amused smile, saying nothing. 

This wasn’t the first time someone mistook you for a couple. You’d lost count of how many times people asked things like, “When did you start seeing each other?” And every time, you laughed it off, always the first to deny it, brushing away the idea with a joke. Not because you didn’t want it to be true—but because you were scared of making Wonwoo uncomfortable, scared of pushing something he wasn’t ready to acknowledge. Wonwoo, however, never once denied it, though he never really confirmed it either.

“Have you decided on your order yet?” the woman asked, prompting your attention.

After dinner, you walked back to the campus, completely satisfied by the good food. You were clinging on Wonwoo’s arm, your head swaying from side to side as you hummed a song that you liked listening to these days.

“Why do you keep telling everyone we’re not a couple?” he asked out of nowhere, making you glance up at him in surprise.

“Because we’re not?” you replied, brow furrowed.

A smirk tugged at his lips, his gaze fixed straight ahead. “For someone who’s supposedly head over heels for me, you seem to hate it when people think we’re a couple.”

“I don’t hate it. I actually like it!” you defended, tightening your grip on his arm. “I’m denying it for your sake. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable?” he echoed, glancing down at you.

You paused, biting your lip, trying to think of how to respond. “Because… I guess I just didn’t want to assume you were okay with it. I didn’t want to make it weird by pushing something you hadn’t even said you wanted.”

“Why would you go out of your way worrying about me when I don’t even make a big deal out of it?”

His tone was casual, almost indifferent, but there was something in the way he said it—something that made your heart skip. You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. You couldn’t quite piece together what he was really getting at. It was confusing and you didn’t want to make your own conclusions.

Wonwoo let out a soft sigh, moving a step ahead of you, his hands slipping into his pockets as he walked on.

“Hey, wait up!” you called after him, jogging to catch up, completely unaware of the small, knowing smile that played on his lips.

BACK IN the present, Seungcheol scoffed and started clapping, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair. “Wow.”

You frowned, confused. “What? Why are you clapping?”

He stopped, resting his hands on his thighs and giving you a sarcastic smile. “You were so dense, it’s embarrassing.”

“Hey! Whatever happened to just listening and not judging?”

You were in your dorm room again, the familiar comfort of your space wrapping around both of you. It had become routine—spending time here, where you could sit across from him or lie together in peaceful silence. Wonwoo, as usual, had his legs crossed, leaning on the backrest of the couch, looking more relaxed than ever as he talked about his plans for the future. 

It was the kind of conversation that you’d expect from Wonwoo. He had been so open about his future, talking about post-college job prospects and what he planned to do with his IT degree. You listened, intrigued by his calm and composed outlook.

“What about you?” he asked, catching you off-guard.

It was odd to be caught off-guard because of the way your conversation was going, it was expected of Wonwoo to ask about your plans too. At the time, it hadn’t sunk in yet, but you remembered that you were already a senior and would soon be graduating. It was a difficult question for you—a student who didn’t know what to do to launch the career she wanted to pursue.

“What do you wanna do?” he asked again, tilting his head in the way he did when he knew you weren’t paying attention.

You found yourself drifting, your gaze shifting from his eyes to his lips. It was a habit now, the way your eyes traced the curve of his mouth whenever he spoke—how his lips moved with each word, the subtle way they pressed together in thought. You barely registered the question he had just asked, lost in the subtle details of him.

“Hey?”

You blinked, your gaze snapping back to his eyes, but the words tumbled out before you could think. “I so badly want to kiss you right now.”

Wonwoo sighed, like he was almost bored, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. His non-reaction is only comical to you now.

You shrugged, already moving to stand up. “Never mind, then.”

You turned to leave but then came a sudden tug that had you sitting on Wonwoo’s lap, a brief glimpse of him swiftly taking his glasses off and tossing them aside before his lips crashed into yours—all in a span of two seconds. 

You were dumbfounded, but you immediately returned his kiss with the same amount of fervor.

“There. Happy?” he muttered, looking bored, though you weren’t fooled by his attempt to downplay what had just happened.

You blinked, still catching your breath. Slowly, you pouted as you reached out to fix the collar of his shirt. “I don’t really wanna talk about careers right now.”

“Okay,” he said, shrugging. “Then let’s talk about us.”

“Us?” you echoed, trying to sound casual, though your pulse had quickened.

He nodded, watching you with gentleness on his face that gave you butterfli. “Yeah. Us. Me, you, and what we want this relationship to be.”

The room felt still, his words hanging in the air between you. You couldn’t stop staring at him—at the way, his dark eyes softened as they traced your face, the way his lips parted ever so slightly as if there was something more he wanted to say but couldn’t bring himself to.

Your heart was pounding, your pulse echoing in your ears, and the proximity of him—so close, so inviting—was intoxicating. He looked at you with a quiet intensity, his gaze flickering down to your lips, and in that instant, something between you snapped.

Wonwoo grabbed your face and pressed his lips onto yours—softly, languidly, like he’d been deprived of it for so long that he wanted to savor every second of it. You quietly kissed him back, closing your eyes to immerse yourself. Every touch felt electric. The way his hands slid up your back, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. The way his lips moved with a rhythm that seemed to match the pounding of your heart. It was overwhelming—the intensity of it, the way you could feel his heart beating through his chest, how the heat was engulfing you from head to toe.

You pulled back for a moment, just enough to catch your breath, but your forehead stayed pressed against his. His breath was warm against your lips, and his eyes—half-lidded and dark with desire—locked onto yours. He didn’t say anything, but he looked at you like you were the only person in the world that mattered. You could still taste him on your lips, the memory of the kiss lingering, sending a thrill through you all over again.

“Kiss me like that again and I’m gonna take it as your confession of love,” you said, breaking the silence.

Wonwoo rolled his eyes and kissed you again with the same amount of sweet abandon. You gasped when he pulled away, utterly shocked.

“Is that… Is that your confession of love?”

“You’re impossible,” he sighed.

Before you could say anything else, his hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you in for another kiss. This time, it was deeper, hungrier. His lips molded against yours, his grip on you tightening as though he couldn’t bear to let you go. You moaned softly into his mouth, the sound swallowed by the kiss as he tilted his head, changing the angle to kiss you even harder.

You felt dizzy, lightheaded—completely consumed by him. His lips, his touch, his scent—all of it was too much, yet not enough at the same time. You wanted more of him, more of this.

Your hips bucked forward, slamming onto his crotch where you found out that he too was being spurred further into the pit of desire. The contact made Wonwoo grunt, nipping your lower lip and wrapping strong arms around your waist. 

Breathless, you pulled away, staring into his eyes and wondering if this was actually happening. Wonwoo lifted you by your thighs and moved from the couch to the bed in a heartbeat. There, he carefully laid you down, running gentle fingers through your hair.

“Wonwoo…” you whispered, unsure of what you were going to say, but needing to break the silence.

He pressed a thumb on your lip, shushing your softly before kissing you again. This time, he abandoned your lips too quickly, moving his kisses down to your jaw and up to your earlobe. The tickling sensation spread through your nerves, intensified by his hand slipping under your shirt to palm your breast. You moaned out, arching toward his touch as your way of asking for more.

Wonwoo’s lips left your ear, trailing to your neck down to your collarbone. His hands were busy with the buttons of your shirt, all while you were angling your neck to give him better access of your skin.

He pulled back once he was done with the buttons, marveling at the sight of your body, and letting out a sharp exhale before lifting the hem of his shirt and tossing it across the room.

“I can do a lot more without those,” he rasped, gesturing at your underwear and you hurriedly took them off.

While you were fiddling with the hook of your bra, Wonwoo dived down to kiss your belly, sucking with an intensity that you knew would leave tiny bruises on your skin. He was moving upwards, grabbing a boob as he peppered his path with kisses and then taking his mouth to meet your nipple. As if by his design, he sucked your nipple and pressed his fingers on your sex at the same time.

The moan you let out was throaty, spurred on by the ministrations of his mouth and his fingers. He rubbed tentative circles on your cunt, trying to find your clit based on your reactions. When he did find it, your mouth parted open as you took a sharp intake of breath, and the confidence on Wonwoo’s face made you want him even more than you already did.

“Oh, I see,” he grinned, licking a stripe on your neck. “That’s the spot, isn’t it?”

You bit your lower lip, trying not to lose your mind with just this. “Since when were you so arroga—agh!”

“Shh, you’re distracting me,” he said after pushing a finger in your cunt that had you gasping. He watched you writhe underneath him, going absolutely feral with just a finger. When he pushed another one inside, you were close to crying, whimpering, and clenching around his fingers.

“Wonwoo please…” you whined, forehead creased and lips downturned—desperate, needy. “Inside, baby. Please.”

“Come on. Say it properly. I can’t give you what you want unless you speak to me clearly.”

You threw your head back and sobbed before meeting his gaze again to say, “Fuck me, Wonwoo. I need you to fuck me really really good.”

Wonwoo groaned softly, clenching his jaw as he pulled his fingers out of your pussy. He shimmied out of his sweatpants and positioned himself between your legs, watching you with half-lidded eyes.

You watched in anticipation as he licked his fingers and used them to palm his erection. As he did, your breath hitched, chest heaving up and down as you waited patiently for him to do what he came to do. He lowered himself, placing his hands beside your head as he prodded your entrance with his cock. 

Finally, you let out a guttural moan as he pushed inside you with one messy stroke. The nerves all over your body were rejoicing, feeling both relief and a delightful pain as your cunt stretched exquisitely.

“Damn, look at you,” he drawled, leaning lower to give your open mouth a sloppy kiss. “I didn’t know you could get any prettier. If I did, I would have done this a long time ago.”

“Move, Wonwoo,” you managed to rasp out, not even trying to hide the desperation in your voice. “Please, move. Please, please, please, please!”

He did as you asked, moving languidly as he practiced the clench. That didn’t take long. In no time, he was rocking inside you over and over in a rhythm that made you lose your mind. You writhed and whimpered, urging Wonwoo to keep going.

When it looked like you couldn’t take any more, he paused for a bit, squeezing your skin as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. Then he lifted your leg over his shoulder and rammed deeply into you, grunting at how tightly you clung onto his manhood.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pausing to take a break. You reached to wipe the sweat forming on his forehead and saw the expression on his face—something between pained and delighted. “We’re not done yet,” he said, hovering over you and ravishing your neck before picking up where he left off.

You kept at it, moving in sync with each other, getting lost in a blur of passion and desire. Your mind was clouded, thinking about nothing except satisfaction and release. You rose to meet his thrust, clawing at his back as you desperately chased a high that was almost within reach.

“Oh, Wonwoo,” you cried out, eyes rolling back just before the pulsating release engulfed you with euphoria.

“Damn it,” Wonwoo murmured, his thrusts becoming sloppy and unsteady as he chased his own climax, driven further into a high by your blissed-out face.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, staring at the ceiling with nothing but the sound of your ragged breathing to break the silence. You turned on your side, moving toward him and resting your head on his arm. His hands found a spot on your waist, thumb absentmindedly tracing small circles on your skin.

“Is this the part where I ask if I could be your boyfriend?” he asked, breaking the silence.

You giggled. “We’re way past that now. But I’d say ‘yes’ just for the sake of it.”

“But I don’t believe in love. Is that okay?”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s okay.”

“It’s overrated.”

“Yes, you’ve told me that,” you replied, chuckling lightly.

He turned on his side so he could face you, his eyes gleaming with affection and fondness. Those eyes were directed at you. “I’m not good at this. And I don’t know what to call this, but I know I can’t stand the idea of not being yours.”

You kissed his cheek. “It’s fine, Wonwoo. If you want me like I want you, it doesn’t matter what we call it.”

“Okay, babe,” he grinned, pushing your hair out of your shoulder. He brushed his thumb over the skin of your neck, staring intently at it. “I may or may not have left some…” he trailed off. “...marks.”

You gasped, sitting up with a jolt and hitting his chest. “Jeon Wonwoo!”

Wonwoo simply grinned, propping himself on his elbow as he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“The girls are gonna see that and know that we had sex!”

He shrugged. “They’ll probably just say something like, ‘About damn time’, you know?”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re annoying,” you said, standing up at once and heading for the bathroom. Wonwoo followed behind you, draping an arm around your shoulder and then kissing the side of your head.

“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again,” he said, chuckling lightly.

“No, do it again,” you said sheepishly, looking away. “Just… not where people can see it.”

You peeked at Wonwoo’s face and saw him sporting a massive grin. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

From the start of your official relationship, things shifted dramatically. Wonwoo was completely different from his usual aloof self. He’d be all over you—holding your hand, lying on your lap, hugging you from behind, anything as long as he was attached to you. He’d hold your hand even when the two of you were quietly reading books—a habit he eventually picked up from you after your constant attempts to get him to read an actual physical book made of paper.

Your dorm room, as always, was the prime spot for these intimate moments. He’d lazily wrap his arms around you, leaning in to steal kisses when you least expected it. The guy who once seemed indifferent now craved your touch.

When hanging out with friends, it was no different. Wonwoo would always reach for you without looking because he knew you’d always be within his reach. He would casually intertwine his fingers with yours, or simply place a hand on your thigh. It was so second nature that he did it once to Hoshi by mistake, his hand absentmindedly landing on Hoshi’s knee while he played a game. Hoshi, immediately recognizing his chance to mess with him, leaned his head on Wonwoo’s shoulder, pretending to cuddle closer.

Still blissfully unaware, Wonwoo absentmindedly reached up and cupped Hoshi's cheek, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb.

“Man, I didn’t realize you were this clingy,” Hoshi teased, leaning into the warmth.

Wonwoo blinked, his brain catching up, and when the realization hit, he let out a horrified gasp, retracting his hand so quickly it was like he'd been burned. “Hoshi, what the—!” he stammered, scooting away from him as far as possible.

Across the room, you were in stitches laughing with the rest of your friends, watching the whole thing unfold.

“Babe,” Wonwoo called out to you, almost desperately, making a beeline toward where you sat. The sudden, affectionate tone in his voice had everyone cringing.

“I could never get used to this,” Jun said, shaking his head with exaggerated disbelief

“I hate it when they call each other that,” Seokmin added with a mock grimace. “Like, okay, you’re not single and lonely. We get it.”

Wonwoo pouted as he made his way to you, wrapping his arms around you like a child seeking comfort. “I missed you,” he mumbled dramatically into your shoulder, sending another wave of exaggerated groans through your friends.

You playfully tapped his forehead. “I’m like five steps away.”

“That’s five steps too far,” he said, all mock seriousness, burying his face into the crook of your neck while the others looked away in mock disgust.

Moments like this had become common now, where he let little things slip that showed just how much he cared. Yet, he still clung to his old habit of feigning indifference, as though denying his feelings made it easier to hide how deeply he’d fallen for you. But it was all in good fun, and you found it adorable when he would switch back to his aloof, “too cool” personality just to see you smile.

Despite the teasing, you liked this new side of him. It felt good knowing Wonwoo was willing to show both you and your friends a part of himself that not everyone got to see. Your relationship had leveled up, and it was evident not just in the way he acted but in the ease you felt together now

“Can we go back to when the only simp in this friend group was her?” Jill asked, pointing at you. “Wonwoo’s giving me the creeps.”

Feigning offense, you placed your hands on your hips and said, “Wow, okay. Sue me for being drop-dead gorgeous and having a boyfriend who’s head-over-heels with me. Whatever.”

“Don’t listen to them, babe. Jealous friends are fake friends,” said Wonwoo, covering your ears and kissing the side of your head.

“He was perfect. The best boyfriend one could ever ask for, except for the part where he didn’t believe in love. Actually, that didn’t even matter in the long run because he was still such a great guy,” you recounted, sighing contently as you gazed at the horizon, the warm colors of the sunset painting the sky. “I had never met anyone like him again. I don’t think I will.”

Next to you, Seungcheol furrowed his brows slightly, the confusion evident on his face. “If he was so perfect—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” you interjected, turning to him with your palm raised. “There was no ‘if.’ Wonwoo is perfect.”

“No, hear me out,” he insisted, grabbing your hand and gently putting it down. “If he was so perfect, why did you break up?”

You retracted your hand and glared at him, pretending to be offended. “It is, what it is.”

“What does that mean in this context?”

“It means, we were just not for each other,” you said, shrugging in acceptance. “He was lovely and perfect, and all that. But—You know, I read somewhere that we were all created in pairs, and that we were put in this Earth to be with that one person—our pair.”

“Polyamorous people are not gonna like it when they hear that,” he shot back, a teasing grin on his face.

You tutted, shaking your head. “Listen!” Narrowing your eyes at him, he mimed zipping his lips, letting you continue. “As much as I wanted Wonwoo, we weren’t the perfect match.”

“Okay, I get it,” he replied, nodding thoughtfully. “So how did it end?”

You let out a heavy sigh then flattened your lips together in a tight smile. “I don’t know if you noticed, but the whole time I was telling the story, I never once mentioned anything about us fighting.”

Seungcheol’s face lit up in realization.

“That’s because we’ve never had a fight. Not even once,” you added. And somehow, that was everything.

How did it end?

It wasn’t anything grand, much like how you got together in the first place. Wonwoo continued to be a great boyfriend, one you could always boast about. Your friends were envious of such a perfect relationship—one where your man was obsessed with you and adored you to death, not to mention good-looking and smart. He was a catch.

Wonwoo had a quiet patience that made it easy to handle your boundless energy. When you’d burst into a room excited, full of chatter, he would always listen with a soft smile, never overwhelmed by your liveliness. He didn’t need to match your enthusiasm; his calm presence was enough.

And you understood him just as well. You knew when he was getting tired, even when he tried to hide it behind his usual stoic demeanor. Like when he’d sit a little closer than usual or his fingers would linger on your arm. That’s when you’d ease up, toning things down without him needing to say a word. You were attuned to his subtle cues, a silent understanding between the two of you that others rarely noticed.

But Wonwoo wasn’t just passive; he knew how to take care of you, too. When your stress bubbled over, he’d pull you into his arms, resting his chin on top of your head, whispering words of comfort so softly they barely broke the silence. You’d feel the tension melt away in those moments, reassured just by being close to him.

“I hate dental checkups,” you complained, slumping on Wonwoo’s bed the moment you entered their dorm room. 

You had just arrived from a dentist appointment and had to have your teeth cleaned as a regular procedure. Wonwoo sat in front of his computer, eyes fixed on the game he was playing, but he was listening to you.

“Was it bad?” he asked, fingers moving rapidly on the keys and eyes darting left and right as he focused on the screen before him.

“It was! I forgot it was time for a cleaning procedure, so I went there totally unprepared. I didn’t get to meditate and mentally prepare myself for the torture. It was awful,” you grumbled, burying your face in the sheets.

“Come here,” he called, glancing only briefly at you.

You walked towards him with a slouched back, sitting on his lap and burying your face in his neck.

“It can’t be helped, it’s not like you can just neglect your teeth. You did a great job back there,” he murmured, his voice gentle and comforting. “I hate dentist appointments too.”

You lifted your head and peeked at his face. “Right? It’s the worst.”

He hummed. “I can’t even last two minutes on that table without gagging. It’s a nightmare.”

“Really?” you asked, surprised to learn something new about him. “You know, I don’t have a gag reflex.”

Wonwoo cocked an eyebrow, finally meeting your gaze just as the unmistakable sound of ‘Victory’ echoed from his headphones. “Really now? Should we put that mouth to use then?”

You gasped, covering your mouth dramatically at how incredibly attractive he sounded. The atmosphere shifted, a sultry heat igniting the air between you.

“What? You didn’t tell me that just to brag about it, did you?” he teased, his lips curling into a smirk.

At this point, you were sure your panties were already on the floor. “Jeon Wonwoo, you hot specimen of a man,” you said, lunging at him with an urgent kiss.

Your relationship was not only built on mutual respect and adoration but also on an undeniable passion. As your lips met, you could feel that familiar spark, igniting something deep within you.

And despite his usual laid-back attitude, Wonwoo would go along with your plans. You’d drag him to social gatherings with friends, where he might seem indifferent, but you knew better. His hand always found yours under the table, and though he stayed quiet, the squeeze of his fingers let you know he was happy to be there—just because you were.

Even when you coaxed him to take breaks from gaming or studying, he’d give you that knowing look, letting you win every time. “Alright,” he’d say with a sigh, but the way he let you guide him outside for fresh air told you he enjoyed the break more than he’d ever admit.

Yet, as you basked in these moments, a thought nagged at you, echoing in the back of your mind. You turned to Wonwoo, breathtakingly handsome in the golden light of the sunset. 

“Babe,” you began, “did you know we never had a fight yet? Not even about the smallest things.”

His brow furrowed slightly, realizing the truth in your question. Then he looked at you curiously. “I didn’t realize. Isn’t that a good thing?”

You pondered his response. “I think it is, but it’s weird, isn’t it? Why don’t we fight? Couples fight all the time. Look at Hosh and Mina.”

Wonwoo shrugged, taking a bite out of his churro. “Maybe because we don’t let small things get in the way of our relationship?”

“Hmmh. We understand each other so well, don’t we?” you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I don’t know why, but somehow, I can’t help but think that maybe it’s too easy. Like we never challenge each other or have those deep conversations.”

“We have deep conversations all the time.”

“You’re right, but not because of a fight,” you stated in a matter-of-factly tone.

Wonwoo frowned, and you could sense the wheels turning in his mind. Then he hummed, and said, “It does make you wonder if we’re really communicating or just avoiding issues.”

What he said struck a chord with you. Days turned into weeks, and the questions loomed larger with each passing moment. You began to notice the cracks beneath the surface of your perfect relationship. The playful teasing became tinged with seriousness, and the easy laughter felt strained at times.

You pondered over the conversations with Mina and your other friends about love and relationships, and it began to dawn on you: What if what you have was limiting your growth instead of nurturing it? What if you had mistaken stagnation and decay for safety and comfort?

One evening, you and Wonwoo sat in your dorm room, the atmosphere cozy as you both worked on separate assignments. He was focused on his computer, while you scribbled notes on a notepad. You glanced at him, the familiar sight of his concentrated expression making your heart flutter. It was in these moments that you felt most at peace. And then came the thought that you couldn’t seem to shake: How could something so good not be enough?

“Hey,” you said, breaking the silence. Wonwoo looked up, his brow furrowing slightly. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us.”

He tilted his head, taking in your every word. “What’s on your mind?”

“Remember when we talked about how we’ve never fought at all?” you began, fidgeting with your pen.

Wonwoo hummed, nodding.

“Well, I couldn’t stop thinking about it and…” you paused to sigh, biting your lower lip to prevent the words from spilling out of your mouth. You knew it had to be said, that it was necessary to see if you should continue moving forward or move on with your lives.

Wonwoo reached for your face, wiping away a tear that you didn’t realize had rolled down your cheek. “I know. You don’t have to say it.”

Your lips turned downward, trying your best to hold back your tears. “But isn’t that avoiding the issue too?”

He chuckled lightly, pulling you toward him in a tight embrace. “It is but, isn't it better than saying things that will only hurt each other’s feelings?”

“What do you mean?” you asked, nuzzling against his chest.

Wonwoo was patting your back in a slow, soothing rhythm, calming your nerves and helping keep your tears at bay. “I know what you’re thinking, baby. I’ve been thinking about it too. And it’s okay, it can’t be helped. Maybe it’s for the best too.”

You exhaled sharply before letting yourself sob in his shirt, tears rolling down your face like a sudden downpour. Wonwoo tightened his hug, shushing you gently as he rubbed your back, muttering soft ‘it’s okay’s in your ear.

“I don’t wanna lose you,” you admitted, your voice cracking.

“Me neither,” he said softly, pressing a kiss on your head. “But I think we need to face the reality of our futures. Our paths are set to diverge anyway, even if we try to change it. It might be for the best if we part ways now, while we still have these great, happy memories of each other.”

You pulled away from his embrace, looking up at him with your tear-stained face. The thought of never laughing together again weighed heavily in your heart, but there was also a flicker of understanding that this was the right choice.

“Remember when we were in that seminar, and you asked me if I liked you?” you chuckled through your tears, the memory bringing a smile to your lips.

Wonwoo laughed, a soft sound that felt like a warm hug. “How could I forget? That was when I started falling for you.”

“Really?” you asked, eyes widening at his revelation. Wonwoo rolled his eyes as if he regretted telling you that. “No, but seriously?”

“Yes, yes,” he gave in. “You were so confident then. So straightforward and honest. I may have experienced having my heart skip a beat for the first time.”

“No way!” you giggled, snuggling into him. “Why were you pretending to be so nonchalant for a long time?”

“I kinda liked having you chase me around,” he admitted sheepishly. “Why? What were you gonna say about that day?”

You pulled back, sitting up. “Oh, I wanted to ask if you were gonna tell me to leave you alone that day before the professor came in and I cut you off.”

He scoffed, feigning indifference. “Well, I guess you know the answer to that now.”

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his torso while you looked up at him. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he replied in a heartbeat. “Love was worth a try with you.”

“I’m gonna remember you forever.”

“That’s quite a big promise, but okay. I’ll take you up on that.”

And you spent the rest of your college days in each other's embrace, dreading the inevitable but also accepting the reality of your future. Jeon Wonwoo was a breath of fresh air, the warmth of the early morning sun, a prelude to a beautiful song, and a sweet memory of your youth that would stay with you forever.

[fin]

[thebearer]

love, i found you |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: how anchovy berzatto came into your and carmen's lives. or the story of anchovy berzatto, dumpster kitten turned spoiled cat.

contains: mentions of animal being abandoned/ stray kitten. small, malnourished anchovy but nothing graphic (i won't do that to you i promise). mainly fluff. language. richie being a hater a little lol.

word count: 2.9k+

“Chefs, keep the stations clear-” 

“-Has anyone seen Richie?-” 

“-Jeff, I need more branzino for the seven fishes-” 

“-Heard, Tina. There, uh, I think there’s some-” 

“-Carm, have you seen the books for tonight?-” 

“-Has anyone seen Richie? Richie! Where the fuck is he?” 

A chaotic melody of screams meshed together in some kind of disarray of harmony, one speaking over the other, the sound of pots and pans clashing, hisses of sizzling food in them a backtrack to the madness. 

“I’m right here, Sugar.” Richie scoffed, buttoning the front of his jacket. He patted your shoulder in passing, cheek pressing lightly to yours, muttering, “How’re you, sweetheart? Doin’ good?” In passing. 

He was the first to notice you, even over Carmen. The rest of the staff bustling through the kitchen prep, trying to squeeze everything in before the family meal. Carmen had invited you to family, but you were starting to regret agreeing, feeling useless and in the way in the face of the hectic nature. 

“Where have you been?” Sugar huffed at Richie, heels clacking in a stomp towards the office. “I have a million fucking things- oh, hey.” She paused, eyes lighting in a greeting when they landed on you. 

“I didn’t know you were here. How are you?” Sugar hugged you, a soft side hug in greeting that you returned stiffly. 

“I’m good. How are you?” You muttered, eyes still scanning the kitchen. 

Sugar let out a dry laugh, pressing a hand to her forehead. “Ask me in about an hour.” She shook her head. “I have a million fucking things to do as I was telling Richie.” She turned, eyes narrowing pointedly at the man. “Only two dishwashers showed up tonight.” 

“You’re shitting me.” Richie groaned. “That fuckin’ jagoff- take a chance on me, bullshit.” 

“Yeah, so Neil needs to wash utensils tonight between the floor, ok?” Sugar jabbed a manicured nail into her clipboard. 

“Is there anything I can do?” You squeaked, much smaller than you meant it to. Richie and Sugar turned to you, both blinking, like they’d forgotten you were even there. “Carm invited me to family, but I can help. I can wash dishes if you need me too. I don’t have anything else to do.” 

“That would be-” Sugar nodded in a sigh, a small smile spreading across her face. “Did I ever tell you I love you? Seriously.” She turned to Carm, who was passing behind her. “Carm, don’t ever fuck this up with her, you hear me? I’ll kill you.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Carmen muttered, and you knew by the drone in his voice he wasn’t listening, too consumed with other things, discarding vegetable scraps into the trash. 

“This thing is fuckin’ full. Can they not- Oh, hey.” Carmen’s features softened at the sight of you, spine straightening gently. “When’d you get here?” 

“Just a few minutes ago.” You leaned forward, his lips brushing your cheek softly in greeting. “I didn’t want to disrupt. You seemed… busy.” 

Carmen snorted. “Yeah, uh, that’s a word for it. Busy, out of my fuckin’ mind because this trash is fuckin’ full!” He boomed at no one in particular. 

“Now, I gotta take this out and replace it, and that puts us back, and every second counts, does it not, cousin?” Carmen rambled, glaring at Richie, yanking the sides of the trashcan off the rim. 

“Look, I didn’t know that the two didn’t show-” 

“-No, of course you didn’t. Can’t pay attention to shit-” 

“-Alright, let’s bring it down.” Sugar lifted her hands, eyeing Carmen with a slight nod of her head towards you. 

“Sorry.” Carmen muttered, eyes lifting to you. “Sorry, cousin. I-I’m just, we’re fuckin’ booked, an-and I’m so far behind-” 

“-I’ll take it.” You squeaked, a little too eagerly. Carmen’s brows furrowed, you cut him off before he could finish. “No, seriously, you’re all busy. I’ll go take this out and then I’ll help make sure the utensils are ready.” 

“N-No, I can’t ask you to do that. That would be shitty.” Carmen shook his head, pulling the trash bag out of the can. 

“Good thing you didn’t ask me. I offered.” Your hand wrapped over his, squeezing his closed fist gently with a tiny grin. “Go, I got it.” 

Carmen beamed, cheeks tinging pink. If he wouldn’t have been in the middle of the kitchen prep rush, he would’ve kissed you, pressed you right up against the wall and smooched you sloppy. Instead, he let you take the trash. 

“Gary!” Richie called behind you. “Make sure you let her back in, alright? Just knock and he’ll let you back in. You’re a fucking life saver, y’know that?” Richie beamed, pushing the heavy steel door open so you could duck under his arm. 

It was surprisingly warm- well, warm-ish for Chicago in the winter. No snow, no need for a heavy jacket but brisk enough for a chill. The dumpster lid was already flipped over, and you were thankful for that, slinging the bag over the edge, turning to go back inside. 

You stopped, halting just as you’d turned. The tiniest squeak of a cry, desperate and alert. You turned scanning the alley walls, the corners by the dumpster until you heard it again, that same pitiful whimper echoing off the metal of the dumpster- inside the dumpster. 

You hesitated for a moment. You couldn’t leave it, whatever it was, it sounded pathetic and in pain. Your eyes flickered back to the building, you could see Gary in the small window, head turned towards the others. They were so busy, you couldn’t ask Carmen or even Fak. 

“I’ll be right back.” You cooed towards the dumpster frantically. “Just hold tight for me, ok? I’ll get you out, one sec.” It was silly, but you felt the need to say it, even if just for yourself. 

Sprinting towards the door, you knocked on the glass rapidly. Gary pushed it open. “I need your help.” You stopped him before he could walk away. “J-Just for a second. I promise.” 

Gary’s brows furrowed. “Yeah, are you- you’re ok?” 

“Yeah, I mean,” You turned towards the dumpster. “There’s something in there. I think it’s a cat? I think it’s hurt.” 

“A cat?” Gary’s eyes widened, still, he followed your furious pace towards the dumpster. “Wait, I-I don’t think- Lemme get Carm-” 

“-No, he’s busy.” You shook your head. “It will just take me a second. I just need you to help me get down.” 

Gary paused, watching you in complete awe- maybe horror- push off a discarded crate towards the ledge of the dumpster. “This is- no, this is fuckin’ crazy, I’m sorry. You don’t know what that thing has-” 

Your small gasp cut him off, eyes rounding in awe. There in the piles of trash, a fuzzy blip of orange fur nestled into the black bags- a tiny, scraggly kitten, mewling helplessly. 

“Oh my God,” You muttered. “It’s a baby.” 

“A baby?” Gary gawked. 

“A kitten baby.” You corrected, lip jutting. “I have to get it.” 

“I really don’t think you should be doin’ this.” Gary looked back at the door then to you. “You can’t go in the dumpster, c’mon.” 

“You want to go in instead?” You huffed, eyes rolling at his disgusted snarl. “Just- I’ll do it.” You leaned to the side, taking a deep breath of fresh air, swallowing down a gag at the expected smell. 

Holding your breath, you let yourself fall into the dumpster, the squishy bags of trash uneasy under your feet. The small kitten whined, crying at the shift of your weight. 

“This is fuckin’ insane.” Gary muttered, shaking his head. 

“Aye, Sweeps, what the fuck?” Richie’s voice boomed, the slam of the door making both of you jump. “Take your smoke break later, you jagoff, I need your-” 

“-I’m not-” Gary huffed in annoyance. “She’s in the dumpster.” 

“Who?” Richie asked. 

“Me!” You swallowed a retch, the pungent stench of the trash filling your senses as you crouched closer towards the kitten. At least it wasn’t summer. 

“Why the fuck is Carmen’s girl in the dumpster?” Richie roared. “Carmen! Get out here now, cousin!” 

“Why is she in the dumpster? Why the fuck are you in the dumpster?” Richie’s furious stomps were muted from the outside. You cringed, still trying to hold your breath, coaxing the small kitten into your hold. 

The poor thing, so small- so fucking small. Shaking in your hold, crying and whining, but turned into the warmth of your palm. A cry bubbled from your chest, mixing with a gag at the smell. 

“Cousin, what? What the fuck is-” Carmen bounded outside, stopping when he saw the top of your head pop up, out of the dumpster. “The fuck?” 

“Your girl’s in the garbage.” Richie shook his head. 

“Yeah, why the fuck- Baby, w-why are you- What are you doin’?” Carmen jogged towards you, hoisting himself over the side of the dumpster, arm extended for you. 

“She found a cat.” Gary rolled his eyes in annoyance. 

“A cat?” Richie repeated. 

“A kitten.” You showed Carmen, pulling the small thing from your chest, where you cradled him close to you. 

Carmen blinked at you. “You went in the dumpster f-for a cat? A cat?” He shook his head, confused. “Baby, that thing could have diseases a-and rabies and shit-” 

“-He’s starving.” You countered, lip jutting in a firm pout. Carmen hated the way he could feel himself melting. The determination in your glare, ferocious yet soft. 

“I could hear him crying, a-and I couldn’t leave him.” You shook your head, petting the tiny kitten’s soft fur. 

“So you climbed in the trash?” Richie snarled in disgust. 

“Climbed right in the dumpster.” Gary nodded. 

“Alright.” Carmen looked over his shoulder at them, a pointed glare on his face. “Just- Lemme get you outta there, alright?” 

“Here,” You handed him the small cat, carefully cradling him. Carmen hesitated, a grimace in his scowl. Your eyes narrowed at him, a warning. “Hold him gently.” 

So he did, of course he did, it’s what you wanted. Passing him to Richie with the same snarl of instructions, pulling you out of the dumpster, a firm hold on your waist as you climbed back over. 

Richie was passing you the kitten with a grimace of disgust, dusting his hands off dramatically. “There. There’s your garbage cat that can not come back in the restaurant. Cousin,” He glared at Carmen. “We don’t want another fuckin’ C. Get shut down for havin’ fleas or shit.” 

Carmen glared at him. “No, he’s right.” You nodded. “Can you bring me my purse? I’m going to see if I can get him checked out. I’ll be back.” 

“Let me come with you.” Carmen offered, motioning for Gary to go get your things, untying his blue apron. 

“Carm, no. You’re busy. I can do it.” You shook your head. 

Carmen rolled his eyes. “No, I’m comin’ with you. Last time I let you do somethin’ alone. End up in the fuckin’ garbage.” He snorted playfully. “Besides, I think there’s a place down the street. The vet has been in a few times. I’ll see if I can, y’know, coerce him to squeeze us in.” 

“Coerce?” You lifted your brows playfully, petting the tiny kitten gently, trying to still his quivering. 

“Yeah, coerce.” Carmen rolled his eyes, swapping his apron out for his jacket, handing you yours. “Give ‘im a free dinner or somethin’.” 

“No fuckin’ way, no.” Richie shook his head. “Cousin, you’re already late- Sydney is pissed, and you’re not bringing that fuckin’ flea bag in here.” 

You held the small cat close to your chest, still damp from his bath at the vet. Carmen’s coercing had worked, Dr. Vallenti had took the bribe happily, squeezing you both in for a check up. The tiny kitten, barely two pounds, malnourished and positively pitiful. You didn’t even have to ask, Carmen knew from the way you held him close to your chest, eyes rounding just barely when the vet asked if you’d be keeping him. 

“Of course,” Carmen nodded easily, squeezing your knee gently. “Just give him whatever he needs for right now, and what we need t’get. We’ll get it.” 

“He doesn’t have fleas, Richie.” You sneered, cradling the small cat in your jacket to keep him warm. His shake was down to a soft tremble, not as constant but still there. 

“Yeah fuckin’ right, rabies then-” 

“-Cousin.” Carmen sneered. Richie stopped with a huff, throwing his arms up and muttering something as he stormed away. 

“Here,” Carmen muttered, a hand on the small of your spine, pushing you into his office. “I’ll grab you a bowl and a plate for his food, alright? You just, just stay in here, ok? Richie’s right, he can’t be out.” 

“I’ll keep him in here.” You nodded, sitting in the small chair. “Do you have a towel?” 

“Yeah, I’ll grab that too.” Carmen slung his jacket off, running a hand through his messy curls. “I, uh, I gotta get scrubbed up and put my stuff on, but if you need anything just yell, alright?” He ducked out to the small closet, snatching a towel and two dishes off the drying rack. 

“I’ll be alright.” You hummed, fingertip tracing down the kitten’s tiny head. He purred under your touch, made your chest burst with warmth. 

Carmen’s lips pulled in a smile, putting the dishes on the ground for you, shedding his own shirt. You were entirely enamored with the cat, that was for sure, not even a sideways, ogling glance at Carmen’s shirtless figure. 

“Shit.” Your head snapped up, wide eyed at Carmen. “I forgot the dishes. I-I’m so sorry, I can-” 

“-It’s alright, baby.” Carmen dropped his pants, biting back a smirk at how your eyes did drop this time. “Tina got her son and his friend to come in. We’re good, baby.” 

“Oh.” You nodded, eyes lingering on his boxer clad ass, before back to the kitten. “Good.” 

Carmen shrugged on his chef’s coat, walking over to you. “It’ll be kinda a late night.” His eyes softened in apology. “I’ll have someone run you a plate when we get outta the weeds, alright?” 

“Thank you.” You muttered, head tilting back for a kiss. Carmen obliged, your lips pulling him in for a longer kiss than he expected, sweet- left his body burning with heat. “Thank you.” You repeated, eyes shining sweetly. 

“C’mon.” Carmen whispered gently, shaking his head at you. “You know I would do anythin’.” He pressed a kiss to your head, looking down at the small kitten before he left. 

“I think he likes it?” You whispered, on your stomach next to Carmen. 

It was nearly two in the morning, the two of you just returning back to the brownstone you called home. Lying on the freshly laid tile of the kitchen, you watched the small cat explore the space. 

“Yeah, think he’s gettin’ used to it.” Carmen muttered, shaking the small stick so the feather danced over the kitten, grinning when he’d scrunch and bat at it clumsily. 

You pressed your head into your hand, watching the kitten prowl, ears finally perked up instead of flat back in fear. “We have to name him.” You blinked, looking up at Carmen. 

“Yeah,” Carmen grinned. “Yeah, that-that would be a good idea, right?” He beamed playfully. 

You smiled, gently petting the kitten’s back, smiling at how he arched into your touch. “I think it should be something kinda with the restaurant.” You suggested. “Since that’s where we found him.” 

“Yeah? Like Bear?” Carmen muttered. 

Your nose crinkled gently. “He doesn’t really look like a Bear.” 

“No,” Carmen agreed, shaking his head. “More like a Garfield.” 

You snorted lightly, rolling your eyes. “That’s such a gimme name.” You shook your head. “Maybe not the restaurant, exactly, but… similar?” 

“Yeah? Like Trash Can?” Carmen muttered, lips curling playfully. 

You gasped lightly, smacking his leg playfully. “No.” You huffed. “Something maybe with food?” 

“Carrot?” 

“No.” You pouted lightly, head tilting towards the small cat, occupied with Carmen’s sweatpant strings. “What about, like, Anchovy?” 

“Anchovy?” Carmen snorted in amusement softly. 

“Yeah, like the fish.” You shrugged softly. “And cats eat fish- well, in the cartoons they do, y’know?” 

“Yeah, I know, baby.” Carmen grinned softly down at you. “You think he looks like an Anchovy?” 

The small kitten turned, perking towards Carmen, padding happily over to him. Your face lit, glowing with beaming pride and adoration as Carmen scooped up the small kitten, let him rub his face into his chest sleepily- sweetly. You thought you might melt into a puddle on the floor at the sight. 

“Alright.” Carmen laughed lightly. “Think you’re right. Think he’s an Anchovy.” 

“Anchovy Berzatto.” You hummed, crawling between Carmen’s spread legs, petting the tiny cat. You smiled so brightly at Carmen, his own cheeks burned, flaming under your radiant affection. 

Your lips caught him again, pulling him in for a sweet, longing kiss over the small kitten’s head. Your hands in Carmen’s hair, pulling him closer and closer, kissing him like a lifeline- it made his head swim, chest swell with adoration. 

Anchovy chirped, teetering on a meow and yawn, little paw stretching in Carmen’s hold. Your forehead pressed to Carmen's, you ducked down to coo at the small kitten, moving to sit in between Carmen’s legs, your back to his chest. 

Home with your little family, complete with the little kitten, Anchovy Berzatto.

[not-neverland06]

Bad Day

part two

Bo Sinclair x fem!reader, Vincent Sinclair x fem!reader (not together, I don’t do that twincest shite) A/N: I don’t usually think about slashers until Halloween, but I’ve just had House of Wax brainrot for the past two weeks, so I wanted to get this out Warnings: graphic descriptions of violence (barely) Summary: Stranded on the side of the road with shitty friends, you’re forced to visit Ambrose, home of the infamous House Of Wax. Unfortunately for you, you manage to catch the attention of not one, but two of the Sinclair brothers.

“Hey, what’s that noise?”

Sarah looks over her shoulder at you and shrugs. “What’re you talking about?”

You roll your eyes and tap Dean on the shoulder, he grunts, the best answer you’ll get from him. “Pull over, I think something’s wrong with the car.” He gives you a questioning glance over his shoulder but shrugs and pulls onto the side of the desolate road. 

You could hear the rest of your friends pulling up behind you in their truck as you hopped out. You walk to the front of the car, popping open the hood and immediately regretting it as a cloud of smoke blasts you in the face. “Shit,” you hiss, backing up and fanning the air in front of your face. 

“Oh, fuck,” the angriest you’d ever heard your stoic friend Dean, and his voice was still barely above a whisper. Alison, Owen, Gwen, and Damien hopped out of their truck and came rushing over to the three of you. 

“What’s going on?”

“Something’s wrong with Y/N’s piece of shit car.” You rolled your eyes at Sarah’s bitchy attitude, you don’t know why you agreed to this trip. You barely like any of them, they were horrible people and worse friends. You’re pretty sure the only reason they invited you was because Owen’s truck couldn’t fit all of them and you were the only one they knew with a big enough car for the rest. 

“I saw a sign, some place called Ambrose, we could try there. Might have someone who could help.”

You all glanced at each other, each of you trying to come up with a solution, but nothing was better than Owen’s suggestion. What's the worst that could happen?

Your car had managed to make it long enough to get to some campground, you really hadn’t been willing to just abandon it on the side of the road to be stolen. Now, you all sat in the grass, debating who should head into town. 

“Y/N should go. It’s her car.”

“Thank you, Allison,” you glared at her, “but I’m not willing to go into some strange town all on my own.”

Owen let out a loud sigh before he reluctantly said, “I’ll go with you.” You were overwhelmed by his kindness. Not. 

There was a high pitched scoff and you glanced over to see Allison glaring at her boyfriend. “You volunteered real quick.”

“Ally-”

She held up a hand and walked off, struggling slightly over the damp ground with her heels. Owen trailed after her, offering you a barely there apology as he left you with everyone else. You were acutely aware of how none of them would meet your eye. 

Up ahead, Ally was laying into Owen, probably another fight because she always thought he was trying to sleep with someone else. It didn’t take you long to realize you were on your own. You really hated these people. 

You stood up, shooting dirty looks over your shoulder as you started towards the woods Owen had determined would take you to Ambrose. “Thanks babe!”

You flipped Gwen off and kept walking. You grumbled to yourself as you tripped down the steep hill and cussed each of them out every time your foot sank into mud. The further down the hill you got the worse it was starting to smell. 

At first it was just musky and you assumed the stifling atmosphere was from the humidity. Then it started to really stink, putrid, rotting flesh stink. You gagged slightly the closer you got to the source of the smell. Your stomach was twisting and turning and you thought the skin inside your nose was burning as you tried to breath through your mouth. That only seemed to make it worse. Now you could taste the rot, feel it spilling down your throat.

“Y/N, wait!”

You jumped, looking over your shoulder at Owen approaching you, the rest of your friends behind him. The distraction cost you, though, your foot got twisted in a root and you let out a loud yelp as you went flying headfirst down the hill.  

“Oh, shit!” You could hear them laughing behind you as you rolled down the hill, your ribs and elbows busting against random rocks and roots. You hissed in pain when you finally came to a stop, already feeling a dozen different scrapes all along your body. 

You went to sit up but your hand sank into something soft and gooey, and oh god you were going to lose your lunch. 

You actually did throw up in your mouth, swallowing it with a burn as you scrambled desperately to get out of whatever putrid pit you were stuck in. You glanced around, finally coming across the source of the smell, dozens of carcasses surrounded you. Some of them so rotted you couldn’t even tell what animal it was anymore. 

You screamed as your hand finally found purchase on something. You glanced down at the hand wrapped around your own and shot up, your feet slipping and sliding against the gore. Two hands wrapped around your biceps and helped you, finally. 

You grasped onto the arms of whoever had you and practically leapt onto them in your attempt to escape. They pulled you away from the pit and you let out a shuddering sigh. “Thank you.”

You glanced up, finally getting to see the face of your savior. He had yellowed teeth, a sweat stained tank top on, and a very adorable smile as he patted your shoulder and backed off. “You alright?”

You let out a strained, “mhm,” as you attempted to catch your breath and not vomit on his feet. “There-“ you covered your mouth as bile rose up. You pointed towards the pit, taking in a deep breath, “Hand. Human hand.”

The man titled his head in confusion before walking over to the pit and digging around where you just were. You winced at the sound of squelching before he managed to reveal the hand once more. You jumped as he grabbed onto it, he laughed as he tugged at it until there was a loud pop and the hand came loose. 

“Anyone need a hand?”

Your friends, who had been standing at the top of the pit watching you struggle, stared at him with varying expressions of disgust. You let out an awkward laugh, relieved it had only been a mannequin and nothing worse. 

He turned around at the sound of your laughter and gave you another goofy smile. “Thank god,” you breathed. 

He came back towards you, completely unbothered by the death around him. “Sorry ‘bout your clothes.”

You glanced down at your shirt and grimaced, it was completely covered in brown blood and old bits of roadkill. “Not your fault.” You glanced towards the back of his truck, seeing old blood in the bed of it and realizing this is where he dumped the animals people hit on the highway. 

“Hey!” You both jumped at the booming voice and looked over to see Owen hopping awkwardly down the hill, skirting the dead bodies, and coming to stand next to you. The others hovered further behind. “You know where Ambrose is?”

The man ignored him, glancing at you. “That where you were heading?” You nodded and he scoffed, “Woulda been walking a long way. ‘Bout fifteen miles up the road.”

You elbowed Owen in the side and glared at him, “You said it was close!”

He rubbed his side and shrugged, “I don’t know, guess the walk was longer than I thought.” He evaded making any eye contact and stared at his shoes. You rolled your eyes, what an asshole. 

“I could give you a ride.”

You blanched at the man's suggestion, he seemed nice enough, but you really weren’t eager to get into a stranger’s truck. “No need, we’ll just take Owen’s truck.”

He shrugged, “Alright. But good luck getting in, there’s only one way to town and it’s not on any map.”

You let out a deep sigh, this day is just getting better and better. “We won’t be bothering you?” He shook his head and walked towards his truck, opening up the passenger door for you. 

You gave him a tense smile before digging your fingers into Owen’s arm and dragging him behind you. “You’re coming with me, don’t bother arguing.”

“Owen?” Allison shouted after him. 

The man answered before Owen could, “I’ll come back for y’all. Don’t you worry!” Something about the smile he shot at them, it was different than the one he’d directed towards you, there was something swimming between his yellowed teeth and honeyed smile. His eyes glittered with malicious intent and you shivered when he looked back at you. 

You didn’t really have another choice, you’d have to follow him. He, apparently, was the only one who could get you into town. You forced a kind smile on your face and thanked him as he helped you up in the truck. “I hope I don’t stink up your seats too bad,” you added as he rounded the front. 

You’d realized you’d spoken too soon when you actually got a chance to smell the interior of his truck. You clutched the seat as your eyes bulged out. Somehow, the inside was worse than the pit outside. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he said as he hopped in the truck. You heard Owen groan under his breath beside you as he slammed the truck door close. 

“Shit,” he hissed, clutching his stomach and trying not to make a big deal about how fucking awful the truck smelled and felt. 

“I’m Lester,” the man told you, offering a hand for you to shake. You paused on holding your breath to tell him your and Owen’s names. “You’ll want to find Bo when we get into town. He’s the mechanic, he’ll be able to fix you up.”

You clutched the edge of the seat for the rest of the ride, trying to remain polite as you made small talk with Lester, but you could only hold your breath for so long. He seemed to pick up on your discomfort and rolled the windows down, “AC don’t work no more.”

“Maybe Bo could fix it.”

He glanced up at you, eyes lighting up like he’d never thought of that before. “Yeah! Maybe he could!” He let out a goofy laugh, slapping his thigh and smiling at you. “I ain’t never thought of that before.”

You let out a weak chuckle, the reaction was pretty extreme for something as simple as suggesting you got to a mechanic for car problems. Owen shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “Fuckin’ Christ.” He muttered, glancing at Lester out of the corner of his eye and shaking his head. 

You elbowed him again, ignoring his noise of pain and silently threatening him to shut up. You understood that Lester might stink and have strange reactions, but Christ, he was giving you both a ride fifteen miles out of his way. He could be a little more appreciative. 

“Alright,” the truck slowly rumbled to a stop. “We’re here.”

You glanced at Lester and then the clear lack of town through the windshield. “Um, what?”

He chuckled slightly, “It’s around the bend. Truck can’t go over that, though.” You followed the direction of his gaze and lifted yourself from the seat to see a little creek and a broken bridge. “Go ahead and I’ll go back for your friends.”

Owen opened the door, practically flying out of the truck. He took in deep and dramatic inhales as the stifling Louisiana air hit him in the face. You rolled your eyes at him and turned back towards Lester, “Thank you so much for the help.”

He gave you a strange look, not quite mean but not very friendly, “Don’t thank me yet.” You had barely closed the door before he was peeling off. 

You turned towards Owen but he just shrugged, “I don’t know man, I just want to get the fuck out of here.”

You nodded, turning towards the creek, “Agreed.”

You were thankful you’d chosen a black tank top, the sun was beating directly down on you and you were pretty sure you had already sweat through every layer you had on. You were desperate for a hair clip or rubber band or literally anything to get your hair off your neck. Another minute sweating like this and you were just going to chop it all off. 

“Hey, up there.”

“Finally!” You and Owen both sped up, rushing towards the auto shop, eager to get somewhere with air conditioning. But when Owen tried the door it wouldn’t budge, he pulled and pushed, wiggled it way too many times and you snapped. “It’s locked, dipshit!”

“Think I don’t know that?” He snapped back. 

You crossed your arms and glared at him, “Then let it go and give up.” He let out a pissy sigh and whirled around, canvassing the rest of town. His eyes landed on the small chapel and he nudged you, pointing at it.

“Maybe there’s someone in there.”

You followed hesitantly after him as he walked towards it. The closer you got the louder the voices inside were. “Wait, Owen, I think there’s a service going on. We shouldn’t just barge in.”

He rolled his eyes and ignored you, throwing the door open without care and glaring inside. You shriveled up in embarrassment when you saw a man kneeling at the front of the chapel. You dared a step closer and winced, he was kneeling in front of a coffin. 

God, you guys looked like such assholes. “I’m sorry,” you muttered, grabbing Owen by the collar of his shirt and yanking him back outside. You shoved him down the steps and he stumbled, glaring at you. 

“Y/N, what the hell?”

“It was a funeral service you jackass!” You hissed back at him, unwilling to raise your voice and further disrupt those poor people’s mourning. You were halfway across the street when you heard the door behind you open. 

You tensed up, mentally preparing yourself to face whoever had decided to scold you both. “Can I help you folks?” You turned at the sound of a smooth southern accent and felt heat rise to your cheeks. Well, more heat, you were about as hot as you could get right now. 

But the man in front of you seemed perfectly comfortable in his all black suit, glaring down at you both from the top of the stairs. You were a little ashamed how attracted to him you were. He was mourning, attending the funeral of someone who was probably close to him and you were drooling over how good he looked in a suit. 

To be fair, he did look very nice in a suit. 

“I am so sorry, sir, I tried to stop him.”

Owen nudged you slightly, “Shut up, Y/N.” You glared at him but he just crossed his arms and looked down his nose at the man in front of you. “We’re looking for Bo. You seen him?”

The man’s voice was full of anger as he sneered at Owen, “You’re talkin’ to him.”

Owen glanced back at you, a mean look on his face. “Her car broke down, can you fix it?”

Bo scoffed, staring down at Owen with a disgusted expression. You knew what he was thinking, how demanding and dickish Owen was. Especially when he knew what Bo had been doing only moments before. You intervened before Owen could dig a deeper hole. 

“Don’t worry about it, sir. I’m really sorry we interrupted you.”

“Y/N-”

“Shut up before I make you,” you leveled Owen with a glare. You let the group get away with a lot, talking shit to you and about you constantly. You didn’t really care enough to stop them, but you weren’t about to let him continue to disrespect the only person who could actually help you out of this hellhole. 

Owen seemed to get the message and scoffed, walking off with an attitude. Though, he didn’t have anywhere to go considering pretty much every business was closed. So he stood in the street, kicking at gravel like a toddler. You rolled your eyes and turned back to Bo, a little surprised to find him already staring down at you. 

You couldn’t decipher the look he was giving you, but it didn’t make you feel very comfortable. Though, that could just be the anxiety from your rude companion. “Sorry, again.”

You turned around, ready to walk back to the others, when he stopped you. “I’ll help you!” 

You glanced back at him, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Really?”

He nodded, “Give me a little while to finish up here and I’ll meet you at the shop.”

You nodded, a smile slowly rising on your lips. Maybe this day wasn’t completely lost. “Of course, take your time, thank you so much, seriously.”

He nodded, still looking unimpressed. “Uh-huh. Uh, you could check out the House of Wax, might make the time pass quicker.”

You nodded again but he didn’t bother waiting for a response, already heading back inside the church. He left just in time for the rest of the group to come walking up the street. Owen ran towards them, leaving you behind. You noticed a clear lack of Gwen or Damien and figured they’d stayed behind with the cars or something. 

You caught up with them just as Owen finished filling them in on what was going on. “So we have to wait?” Sarah whined, practically stomping her feet. 

“Yes, because he’s currently burying someone,” you deadpanned. You glanced towards the building towering over the town on top of a hill. “But we can always check out the House of Wax.”

”Yippee,” Allison mumbled sarcastically. 

You broke off quickly from the rest of the group, immediately embarrassed by how they behaved in the museum. Owen had started off strong, catcalling one of the wax women and groping her. You wandered towards the back of the building, a figure of a dog catching your attention. You hadn’t seen any other animals in here. 

Wow, its fur looked so realistic. 

You knelt down, getting closer, and shot back in fear as it barked at you. You let out a loud yelp as you landed on your ass, watching the very real dog growl at you. 

“Holy shit, did not think you were real.” You held up your hands in surrender, “Good girl, it’s okay.” After a minute she stopped growling and slowly moved towards you. You smiled as you pet her, running your fingers through her fur and laughing when she licked your hands. ”Aren’t you sweet?”

You heard a creak in the doorway behind her and your head shot up. A man loomed over you, a wax mask over his face and long black locks hanging over his shoulders. “Hi,” you whispered, completely thrown off by his appearance. 

“Do you work here?”

Nothing. 

He had to, if the mask was anything to go by, maybe it was like some outfit they made the employees wear. You glanced down at his hands, you could see wax covering them and sculpting tools in the belt slung around his hip. “Oh, are you an artist?” You asked, tone a little more excited. 

He tilted his head, and you felt your heart speed up when he stepped closer. The dog left you, walking over to him with her tail wagging and tongue lolling out the side of her mouth. He reached down, not breaking his stare with you, and pet her lightly. 

You got to your feet, trying not to show how uncomfortable he was making you. Finally, he nodded. 

“Well,” you stuttered slightly over your words, tongue tied with anxiety. “They’re all amazing. I accidentally bumped into one and apologized because I thought it was real,” your words trailed off with an awkward chuckle. “I even thought your dog was real, she scared me half to death when she moved.”

God, kill me now, this had to be the most awkward one sided interaction you’ve ever had with someone. “D-,” you cleared your throat, trying to get your voice to stop cracking. “Did you do this?” You pointed to the scene behind you, a family eating dinner at a dusty wooden table.

He shook his head, slowly lumbering past you and lifting the woman’s hair. You took a hesitant step forward and peered at the back of her neck where he was pointing. 

TS was carved into the wax. “TS?” Your eyes narrowed before it finally clicked in your head. “Trudy Sinclair?” He nodded and you smiled. “Oh, yeah, I saw an article about her up front. She’s the woman that runs the museum, right?” Another nod. Maybe he was mute. Maybe he wasn’t some freaky serial killer that was about to use that scalpel in his belt to slit your throat. 

Please just be extremely socially awkward. 

“Whole place is wax,” you dumbly pointed out, because clearly he knew that. “Pretty impressive.” He straightened up, moving the woman’s hair back in place and carefully brushing it out with his fingers. The care in which he treated the mannequin was a little off putting, he was acting like she was living and breathing, something to be coddled. “Um,” you stopped staring at his hands, focusing once again on his waxed face. “What’s your name?”

He took a step forward, then another and another until he was standing right in front of you, sharing the air you breathed. You couldn’t help but gulp, feet glued to the floor as the dark holes in his mask burned into you. In your peripheral you watched as his arm stretched out and winced slightly, prepared for a hit or stab or something. 

But it just hovered in the air, after a moment you realized he was pointing at something. You turned around and found a signature scrawled into another wax figure. 

Vincent

“Vincent,” you let out a sigh of relief and held out a hand, giving him your own name. After a moment he took your hand, grip tight to the point that it hurt. But he didn’t shake it like you’d expected, instead he moved his hand up your arm, digging his fingers into your forearm and dragging you back to the front door. You whimpered when he opened the door and threw you outside. 

You clutched your forearm to your chest, rubbing the forming bruises as the door slammed in your face. “Well, fuck you too then,” you muttered under your breath. You turned around glancing down the street and seeing Allison and Owen already walking towards the auto shop. You bound down the steps and run after them, panting when you finally catch up. 

“Where’s Sarah and Dean?”

Allison snorted, “Said they found a bed upstairs.” She glanced at you, “I think you can put two and two together.”

Your nose wrinkled and you groaned, “That’s disgusting. The guy that runs the place is literally in there.”

“Don’t be a prude,” Owen admonished. “They’re just screwing around.”

You glanced back at the House of Wax, seeing a figure moving in the window of the upper floor and shook your head. Jackasses. 

Bo was waiting for you all at the door of the auto shop. He was still in his black suit, except this time he had an easygoing grin on his face. A complete 180 from the man who looked ready to rip Owen’s dick off for interrupting a funeral. 

He gave you a particularly large smile as you approached, holding the door open for you as you entered the shop. You didn’t get the relief you were hoping for, the air in here almost as stifling as it was outside. It was maybe two degrees cooler. Whatever, you’d take what you could get on such a shitty day. 

“You know what the problem is with your car, sweetheart?” 

It took an awkward moment of silence to realize he was talking to you. When you looked up from the floor you saw his gaze drilling into yours, not missing the way his eyes flitted down to your low cut top and then back up. You couldn’t really blame him, you’d been eyeing him since he introduced himself. 

“Um,” you glanced towards Owen. “What did Dean say it was?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, an unsure look on his face. “Something about a hose.”

Bo nodded, sucking on his teeth before he went to the back of his shop. You rocked back and forth on your heels, ignoring the other two who were wandering around his shop and whispering to themselves. “Hey, honey, you mind comin’ back here a minute?”

You peered around the doorway and saw Bo bent over rummaging around in some boxes. “Me?”

He looked over his shoulder and chuckled, “Who else?”

You were about to step forward when you heard Allison hiss your name. You turned around and she pulled her top down mouthing ‘maybe he’ll give you a discount,’ pointing to your own shirt and laughing. You crossed your arms reflexively, covering your breasts from her view and tugging your shirt higher up to be petty. She rolled her eyes, clearly called you a prude, and turned back around. 

You really needed new friends. 

You walked into the back of Bo’s shop, taking in the different tools and boxes along the walls. “What’s up?”

“Any of these look right?”

You glanced down at the hoses he had laid out, the blood draining from your face when you realized you did not know anything about your car. You really hadn’t even known a hose was a thing until today. “Um, I’m not sure.”

“Well,” he started, losing some patience as his tone took a curt edge. Your stomach toiled with anxiety, not liking the idea of him getting pissed at you. “You know what size ya need?” 

You cleared your throat, “Owen!” You called out the door, you heard a grumbled what in response. “You know what size I need?”

“Two and a half!”

You missed Bo sliding a hose under his work table as you turned back around, scanning the tags and frowning when you saw he didn’t have the right size. “There’s a two, would that work?” You asked, picking the hose up and holding it out to him. 

His tongue poked into his cheek and he shook his head, “‘Fraid not, sweetheart.”

“Shit,” you placed the hose back down and rubbed your face, wincing as you remembered you were still covered in innards. “Ugh, gross,” you pulled your hands away from your face and could already feel streaks of blood on your cheeks. 

Bo chuckled and reached for a clean rag off his work table. He gave you a charming smile and wiped the blood off your face. You tried not to let yourself be too affected by how close he was, but it was hard, really, really, hard. So, as you always do in situations you don’t know how to handle, you blabber. 

“House of Wax was really cool,” you mumble.

“Hm,” he hums, not interested at all as his gaze darts down to your lips. 

“Yeah, the guy, Vincent, I don’t think he liked me very much,” you let out a barely audible laugh, remembering his harsh treatment as he tossed you out. 

Bo froze, his eyelids dropping slightly as the tender look on his face melted away, replaced by something you didn’t understand. Or didn’t want to understand. The hair on the back of your neck was standing up as goosebumps traveled along your arms. You weren’t cold, not in the slightest, this felt like something else. Like an instinctual response to a predator. 

You backed away a step, no longer feeling comfortable being so close to him. “What’d you say?” His voice was low, so low you could almost mistake it for a growl. 

“Um,” you swallowed harshly, throat parched and lips completely dried by the humidity. “Vincent,” you didn’t like how small your voice was. Didn’t like how quickly the atmosphere had shifted from something charged to something dangerous. “He- he showed me some wax sculptures and then he tossed me out.”

“You saw Vincent?” You nodded, backing a step further when he approached you. He noticed and let out a low laugh, the grin returning, but there were entirely too many teeth. “You say anything? ‘Bout his mask? How quiet he was?” He probed, his tone almost teasing like he wanted you to say Yeah, called him a freak and laughed at him. Like he wanted to use your response as an excuse for something. 

You shook your head quickly, “No. No, of course not,” you were quick to defend yourself, trying to sound as sincere as possible. You didn’t want him to think you were as rude as your traveling companions. “I thought maybe all the museum workers had to wear those. Like a theme or something. And,” you stumbled slightly over your words as he moved towards you again. You stepped back towards the doorway, trying to get back in the view of the others. “And I can be pretty quiet myself, I didn’t think it would be kind to pry.”

He finally stopped, but it wasn’t enough to calm you down. You still could feel your heart pounding against your chest, going so fast you felt a little dizzy. You weren’t an idiot, you knew how risky it was approaching so many strange men in one day. But you had been trapped, like a mouse dropped in a maze, constantly searching for a way out. 

You’d had no choice but to accept help from all the people you’d interacted with in this town, but you didn’t forget how much danger they could pose to you and your friends. You were all too aware of how stupid it was to be in a room with this stranger. 

This stranger who switched between masks so fast you got whiplash. Just as quickly as it had disappeared, his smile was back, still just as handsome, but no longer disarming. He shrugged, “Vincent doesn’t show himself to anyone, really. Just a little curious, that’s all. And that mask is all him, sweetheart.”

“Right,” you forced a smile, moving out of the way so he could walk back into the main part of the shop. 

He clapped his hands together, getting the attention of the others. “Sorry folks but I don’t got the parts you need here.”

Allison and Owen both let out loud groans, their voices blending together in anger as they harassed Bo for not having the one car part they needed. You winced as they yelled at him, demanding to know how he even called himself a mechanic if he didn’t have one simple part. You could see Bo’s patience leaving him again, jaw clenching and teeth grinding together. 

“Shut up!” You shouted, glaring at them from behind Bo. “Jesus, act your fucking ages,” you muttered, storming past Bo and going to stand near them. You didn’t bother looking at any of them, despite the stares you could feel boring into you. 

“Thank you,” Bo mumbled before his voice rose again. “As I was sayin’ I got some parts up at my house. Only about a ten minute walk, you could use the bathroom, clean up, I’ll see if I have what you need.”

Allison and Owen shared a look before turning towards you, the both of them huddling around you. “I don’t want to go anywhere near that freak’s house. He’s probably got some redneck sex dungeon.”

“Allison,” you admonished, looking over her shoulder to make sure Bo hadn’t heard. He seemed preoccupied with something under his desk. “Shut up, he’s being nice and putting up with our shit. I mean, he just buried someone guys, and he’s still trying to help. Least you could do is be respectful.”

Allison huffed and sighed and rolled her eyes before finally nodding, “Fine. But I’m using you as a human shield if shit goes south.”

“Fine by me,” you muttered, pushing away from them both and smiling at Bo. “If you don’t mind, we’d love to go.”

He nodded, smiling at you before walking to the door. He opened it but he didn’t leave until he threw over his shoulder, “Don’t worry, if I was taking anyone to my dungeon it’d be this one.” You squeaked as he pinched your waist and walked out. 

Allison scoffed, like she was offended, and followed after him. 

“So,” Bo started, slowing down so you could catch up to him. You sped up slightly, matching his stride and giving him a small smile as he stared at you. “What’re you doin’ with these jackasses?”

You couldn’t stop a snort from slipping out at his blunt language. You glanced behind you, watching Allison and Owen bicker about something and turned back towards him, shrugging. “I don’t know, they needed my car and I wanted to get out of the house, I guess.”

“Well, how long you been friends?”

“Not long, I met Allison a year ago and I guess I just started hanging around them.”

“You don’t seem to get along real well.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement, a fact in his eyes that you didn’t belong with them. And he was probably right, you hated them, they hated you. 

“Only reason I’ve stuck around this long is ‘cause I don’t have anyone else.”

You didn’t notice how he perked up, how quickly he tuned into the loneliness in your words and pounced. You should have, for someone so perceptive and paranoid, but you were too busy grimacing at a chunk of dead something in your shorts pocket. 

“No one? No family? No other friends? No one to notice-” He cut himself off, once again sending you a smile, though this one seemed more sympathetic than anything. Like he knew your pain and could relate to it. 

“Yeah, no one.”

“Hm,” he offered nothing else. Just another hum and a nod as you approached the house at the top of the incline. He walked up to the front door, unlocking it, and turning around to survey you all. “Anyone need the can?”

Owen stepped forward, Allison clinging to his arm with a paranoid look on her face, eyes darting all around the perimeter of the house. Bo glanced behind them at you, “Sweetheart?”

“No, I’m good, thanks.” He might be charming but there was no way in hell you were just gonna wander in blind to his house. 

“You sure? I could give you a change of clothes.”

Before you could figure out a polite way to decline again, Allison had grabbed onto the strap of your tank top and was dragging you up the porch. “Please, fuck, I can’t stand the smell anymore.”

You ripped your arm out of her grasp, jumping as the door slammed closed behind you. For a moment the house stayed dark, no light and no noise other than the sound of your breathing. Then you heard a click and light shone down on a cluttered living room and outdated kitchen. 

“Sorry, haven’t had time for the maid,” Bo muttered sarcastically. He turned towards you, motioning you forward and, reluctantly, you followed. “Bathroom’s down the hall to the left.” Owen nodded, heading down the hallway while Allison stayed planted by the door. 

“I’ll show you my room and you can get changed.”

”Thanks,” you followed him wearily up the stairs, jumping every time the old wood creaked. “I really appreciate this, I know we’ve bugged you a lot today.”

”Yeah, you have.” You frowned, taken aback by how honest he sounded. In your defense, he had offered up his house to you guys. He turned around and must’ve seen the disgruntled look on your face because another grin broke out and he laughed, “I’m messin’ with ya. Relax, it’s no trouble at all for such a pretty lady.”

He opened up the door at the top of the stairs and stepped inside. You heard him moving around, drawers opening and slamming shut before he emerged again a pile of unfolded clothes in his hand. “Here, you can use the room to change.”

You nodded and stepped inside, quick to lock the door behind you. You waited until you heard his footsteps going back down the stairs to strip out of your clothes and change. You moved as quickly as you possibly could, a little paranoid that he had cameras in his room or something, watching you. 

You weren’t sure what had changed. Maybe it was Allison’s insistence that he actually had a sex dungeon, or that you were in a stranger’s room, but you felt scared. You felt watched and uncomfortable and like you wanted to get the hell out of here as quickly as possible, put Ambrose in your rear view and never look back. 

You held up the shirt Bo had left you and frowned. It was big, much bigger than he was. This didn’t seem like something he would own, the fitting all wrong, this seemed like something that belonged somewhere else. To someone else. 

You stared at it a moment longer before shaking the thought away and pulling the button up over your arms. As you worked on the last button you realized he hadn’t left you with any pants. Hopefully just a simple oversight on his part. It went down to your thighs, so it’s not like you were completely exposed. You’d just pretend you were wearing a dress. 

Your eyes scanned the room, you would go through his drawers and look for some pants but it didn’t feel right to dig around in his stuff. The room itself was a clusterfuck of boxes of clothes and sprawled sheets. You jumped around a box full of men’s clothing and frowned at the labels on the box. Each box had different sizes and different dates. 

Your heart beat just a little bit faster when you spotted women’s clothes shoved under his bed.

There could be plenty of explanations. 

He swung every which way and this was all clothing from his conquests. 

He liked to dabble in drag. 

He was collecting clothes for the homeless. 

You went with the last one, despite the fact that it didn’t make you feel any better. You walked into his bathroom, smiling when you saw a hair clip on the sink. You picked it up, hoping it wasn’t someone’s favorite and that they wouldn’t mind you borrowing it for a bit. 

Just as you were about to clip up your hair you noticed a smudge of red on the corner. The claw itself was completely white, the red was pretty hard to miss. You frowned, bringing it closer to your face and running your fingers over the color. 

It flaked off under your thumb, the copper falling into the sink. 

There were only so many things you could ignore. 

A blood covered claw was not one of them. 

You rinsed it off in the sink, shoving your hair up and running towards the bedroom door. You didn’t bother collecting your clothes, there was no saving them and you had bigger things to fuss about. Mainly the fact that Allison was right. 

This dude definitely had a fucking sex dungeon. 

You forced yourself to slow down when you reached the top of the stairs. You peered over the railing, listening for any noises or creeping shadows. It was almost worse when you didn’t hear anything. Allison should be at the door, bitching about how long it takes Owen to pee. Bo should be walking around somewhere. 

Instead, the house was still, you barely even heard your own breath over your racing heart. You were careful as you made your way down the stairs, avoiding the boards you know creaked and lightly making your way towards the front door. 

“Allison?” You whispered, looking around the den or kitchen for her. 

Nothing.

You hesitated, wondering if you should look for her or make a run for it. You heard footsteps getting closer to the door and made your choice, grabbing the keys off the tray nearby and racing through the doorway. 

“Y/N?”

You turned around as you reached Bo’s red truck, looking just in time to see a knife split through Allison’s jaw. You couldn’t even scream, the noise locked away in the deepest part of yourself as you struggled to process what was happening. 

The blade stuck out grotesquely between her teeth, her eyes remained blinking, that was the worst part. They blinked, tears pouring down her cheek before the man behind her was shoving her forward and her body was toppling to the ground limply. You jumped at the thud, eyes wide and burning with your own tears as you looked into the dark holes of Vincent’s mask. 

“Vincent?” You whispered, the only thing you could actually manage to get out. His head tilted and he stepped over Allison’s body like she wasn’t even there. Your hands shook, the keys slipping out and landing in the dirt under your shoes. He was about ten feet away before your flight instincts finally kicked in 

“Fuck,” you whispered, abandoning the truck and taking off just as the knife he’d thrown landed in the dirt where you’d been standing only a second earlier. 

You used to run, it had been an easy form of therapy. A way to get out unresolved and pent up emotions that left you feeling stunted. You’d loved it, reveled in the burn in your thighs, the buzz that thrummed through your blood as you pushed yourself to your limits and then further. 

But you’d stopped, got caught up in a group of shitty friends and stopped taking care of yourself. Now, the once thrilling buzz was slowing you down. The muscles in your thighs unprepared and unused as you forced them to go faster. You felt like you were trying to run in a dream, your muscles working as hard as possible but you were stuck in a limbo, never moving fast enough. 

You could hear heavy boots pounding behind you and you tried to push through that limit that you felt locked around your legs. But you couldn’t, you couldn’t move faster and you already felt yourself slowing down. Your lungs heaving as your throat burned, struggling to take in any air. 

“AH!” You let out a strange sounding scream as something heavy and hard rammed into your back. It sent you flying, knees scraping against pavement as you were pancaked to the road. 

“There ya are, darlin’! You don’t know how bad my feelings were hurt when I saw you’d run off.” You whimpered as Bo pinned your arms behind your back, his knees digging into your spine until you both heard it crack and you cried out in pain. 

“Bo, please,” you begged. “Please.”

He chuckled, leaning down until his mouth was next to your ear. “Please, what, darlin?”

”Please fuck off,” you growled throwing your head back and listening to Bo’s nose snap. You used the distraction to wrestle your way out from under him, rolling onto him, legs straddling his waist as you grabbed a nearby rock and brought it down.

His hand shot up and gripped your wrist, squeezing until you couldn’t feel your fingers and were forced to let go of the rock. “Fuckin’ bitch.”

You slapped at him as he tried to sit up and pin you down. You didn’t care how rabid or unorganized you were. You clawed, screamed and kicked until you’d gained the upper hand and were jumping away from him. “Fuck you,” you hissed, glaring at him as you clutched at your hurt wrist. 

His nose was no longer pouring blood, instead it was a slow steady drip as he glared at you with what could only be described as an animalistic snarl. “Bitch,” he spat back. 

“That the best you got?” You taunted, “You’re the backwoods freak who's killing off college kids. Lemme guess, Vincent’s your brother, he wears that mask because mommy and daddy were actually Uncle-Dad and Aunt-mom? Your weird little incest freak didn’t want to let mommy’s dream die? I bet one of you fuckin’ killed her, too.”

”Shut the fuck up!” He shouted, lunging for you. You darted off to the side, leaping over a wooden picket fence and through the yards of the silent neighborhood. The sky was turning pink, your favorite time of day, right before night finally fell. 

But you didn’t have time to enjoy it, crying as you ran away from the feral man behind you. You could hear him breathing, stomping his way behind you, it was like being chased by a wild animal, not a man. Maybe that’s what was terrifying you so bad, humans were predictable. You knew what type of torture to expect from them, the cruelties they were capable of. But a man like this, a beast like this, you had no idea what he would do to you. 

Tear you apart right here in the street?

Take you back to his home and keep you until better prey came along?

You didn’t want to find out. And you didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of your death. 

You had been screaming as he attacked you, shouting as you ran from him. Not once did a light click on or off as you ran through the neighborhood. No curtains drew back or faces pressed against the window pane in curiosity. 

You knew you were alone, the rest of your friends were most likely dead. 

You gasped, losing your breath, as you slammed into something hard. “Y/N? What the fuck?” You whined in pain, looking up to see Owen standing over you. He kneeled down, like he was going to help you up, until you heard the sound of laughter behind you. 

“Got you,” Bo taunted. And you knew he was talking about you, he didn’t give a shit about Owen, he just wanted you. 

“Owen, please,” you whispered, begging him to, just this once, help you. Be a decent guy, make the right choice. You should have known better. Just as you’d gotten to your feet, two strong hands had gripped your shoulders and sent you flying. 

A different set of hands found their way around your waist, coiling around you like a python until their grip was so tight your face was turning purple from loss of air. “Told you, jackasses,” Bo whispered, the last thing you heard before you were blacking out. 

Nine Inch Nails. 

That’s what you could process when you woke up.

The next thing you felt as your eyelids slowly peeled open, a near painful process, was the jostling around your legs. You whined, your throat completely raw and glanced down. Bo was standing at the end of some sort of chair, similar to a gurney, and duct taping your legs down. He glanced up, hair plastered with sweat and grinned at you. He had changed, you hadn’t noticed before but he’d ditched the suit for his coveralls. 

You let out a sigh, rolling your eyes and glancing towards the ceiling as you blinked back tears. 

You were going to die and the last thing you were going to hear was the blasting of Closer by Nine Inch Nails. 

Fuck my life

Bo moved up, holding your wrists down on the metal armrests and duct taping those too. You looked to the side, and saw strange circular markings on his wrist. You assumed, whenever they disposed of your body and took the tape off, you would have matching scars. 

You heard footsteps clomping above you and the sound of Damien and Gwen’s voices. “Where did they all go?”

“I don’t know, maybe they’re in the auto shop.”

Gwen sounded unsure, “Maybe, it is the only place that’s open.”

Bo ran behind you, his warm hand clamping over your mouth and keeping it shut as they passed the grate above you. You hadn’t even tried to open your mouth to scream for help, you knew you couldn’t, your throat was destroyed already. 

“I’m gonna take my hand off and you’re gonna be quiet. Yeah?” You nodded your head, feeling the salty warmth of your tears trailing down his hand and building up on your cheeks. “Yeah,” he whispered, the tone too intimate as he slowly released you. 

He remained beside you, poised and ready to strike but you didn’t make a move to call out. “Good girl,” he chuckled and placed a hand over yours. “I’m gonna go up, deal with those assholes, and you’re gonna behave. Right?”

You nodded again and he dug blunt fingernails into tender skin. You whimpered out, “Yes, Bo.”

He laughed again and walked towards the door, keys clinking as he locked it behind himself. “Fucking sicko,” you spat the second the door was closed. You moved your legs, wincing as the tape picked at your bare skin. 

“Oh, fuck it,” you were sweaty enough, the moisture on your skin providing enough glide for you to wiggle one leg out of the tape. Arrogant bastard had given you too much freedom, he probably didn’t even think you were going to run. 

Now, your wrists. 

Your arms were sweaty, sure, but these were tight. You tried to use a jerking motion you’d once seen in a stupid action movie, bringing your wrists to your chest. But your muscles were fatigued and you didn’t have enough strength to rip the tape off. 

You flopped against the flattened cushion of the chair, trying not to sob incoherently as Bo’s rock music blared in the garage above. You could hear voices speaking. You didn't know how much time you had left until Bo just got rid of them and came back down for you. 

You’d been pointedly ignoring the wall of Polaroids since you’d woken up, not wanting to see what they were. Afraid you already knew. 

You ignored the unnatural bend of your shoulder, how much it screamed out in pain as you contorted your body over your right wrist, teeth picking at the duct tape until you felt like they were coming loose. But you didn’t stop, you kept going until you felt the slightest tear under your lips. 

You had to stop yourself from crying out in victory as you used whatever remained of your strength to jerk at the tape again and again, your muscles crying as you finally ripped yourself free. You stuffed down your cries, using your free hand to unwrap the other. 

You allowed yourself a moment to roll out your wrists and shake off your legs before you were shooting off the gurney and stumbling towards a corner of the room. Your legs felt like jelly, and you knew that wasn’t good, but you pushed past the fear as footsteps stomped down the stairs. 

Your heart rate picked up and your throat clenched as you pushed sweat-matted hair out of your face. You took in a deep breath and then held it as the door slammed open. You winced, grateful you hadn’t chosen to hide behind that. Bo stepped into the room, there was a blind spot of about five seconds before he would see you were out of your chair. 

You needed to use that to slip behind him and out the door. 

You heard one boot enter. Then the next. 

You could hear your blood rushing in your ears, adrenaline making your muscles tingle back to life. 

Another step, you inched forward, another, you slid against the wall. Bo finally made it all the way in. “What the fuck!”

You shot behind him, racing up the steps and bursting through the door of the garage. You didn’t give yourself time to celebrate or look to see if he was following you. You darted down the street, suddenly grateful Bo had only given you a shirt to wear. 

You were sure it was for his own pleasure, but right now all it meant was that your legs weren’t constricted by tight denim and you could run as fast as your body would allow. You turned to the right, bursting through the doors of the chapel. 

You froze at the entrance, taking in a deep heaving breath as you tried to find a hiding spot. The pews were too noticeable, the casket probably wouldn’t fit you. You nearly cried as you tried to figure it out. 

Outside you heard Bo stomping, his voice calling out your name. Fuck it, you dove for the priest, using his large robes and throwing yourself under them. You had just managed to clamp a sweaty palm over your mouth as the doors of the church opened, deceptively quiet. 

Bo’s footsteps were soft as he walked through. You feel dizzy sitting under this preserved priest, the air stifling and you felt like you were running out of oxygen. Sweat beaded at your hairline, dripping down into your eyes as you tried to blink it away. 

You jumped, nails digging into your palm, at the sound of wood crashing against the wall. “Get out here!” He roared, and you knew he was slowly making his way through the pews. He tossed each of them around, checking under and around them for you. 

You ducked down, lifting the robe a centimeter off the floor. If you closed your eyes, put your hand over your ears, you were a little girl again, hiding under the table as your mother counted down. She’d find you soon, you’d giggle and she’d pretend she didn’t hear it before popping under the table cloth and catching you. 

Her fingers digging into your sides, searching for that ticklish spot. No, she’s poking too hard, that hurts. 

Shit, that hurts. 

You kick out, your shoe catching Bo’s jaw as you make a run for it, darting out from the priest and back through the chapel doors. The only thing you can focus on are the bright lights, blinding against the night sky- when did it get dark?

You stumbled over your feet, legs not moving the way you wanted them to. Shit, you don’t feel good. Did he drug you? Is it the heat? You haven’t eaten all day, or drank anything. Maybe it was finally catching up to you. 

Through blurry eyes you ran towards the movie theater, the brightest beacon you can actually make out. You trip through the doors, slamming them closed behind you. You spot one of those metal poles, the old one with red cloth they used to keep people in line. With limp arms and struggling steps you lift it up and slam it through the handles, just as Bo starts to shake them on the other side. 

You back away from them slowly, eyes scanning the lobby for anything you could use. Behind the concession desk you manage to spot something. 

BREAK IN CASE OF EMERGENCY

You’d say this constituted an emergency. You kicked through the glass, ignoring how it dragged along your legs, and pulled the ax out of its case. There had to be a back door out of here. 

Your eyes widened and you cursed, there had to be a back way out of here, and Bo would know it. You threw the ax on the ground, ripping the pole out of the handles before scooping the ax back up and running back into the dark.

Apparently you’d made the right choice because Bo was no longer where you left him. He was probably sneaking through some secret exit waiting to grab you. You looked towards the end of the street, up the hill, and back at Bo’s front door.

There was still light shining through, but you were sure Allison’s body was long gone. You glanced behind you before taking in a deep centering breath and shooting off again. 

You held your breath, hiding underneath the table as Bo came stumbling into his home. You could see him clutching a wound on his arm and Vincent materialized behind him. He reached for his brother but Bo jerked back, “Get, get, back!” He spoke like he was talking to some dog, “Fuckin’ freak.”

You winced as you watched them interact, Bo tossing shit at his brother and his brother ducking like he was used to it. Vincent walked over to a candle, heating a spoon over the flame and picking up a toaster. He used the metallic reflection to smooth over a dent in his mask and Bo came up, appearing on his shoulder like the worst kind of devil. 

“Momma would be proud of you.” Vincent’s movements paused at his suddenly tender brother’s voice. “I told you this would look better. The last two are gonna look great,” he assured, kindly, and you grimace in disgust. Should’ve known this was his idea. Your knuckles creaked around the handle of the ax and you debated just ending this now. 

Vincent turns towards his brother, spoon discarded, and signs something. You know enough about the language to recognize the hand movements when you see it, but you can’t understand it from your angle. 

“What girl?” Bo snarled, Vincent winced and signed something else. Bo snorted, “Her? What you gotta crush or somethin’?” Vincent shook his head quickly and Bo rolled his eyes, voice cruel. “What, one girl’s nice to you and you wanna break our rules? She’s dead when I’m done with her. That’s it.” Bo buried his finger in Vincent’s shoulder, shoving harshly. “Understood?” Vincent didn’t respond immediately and Bo shoved again. “Understood!” He shouted and Vincent finally nodded. 

You watched them move out of sight, followed their shoes out of the house and finally slinked out of your hiding spot. You’d seen where Vincent had emerged from earlier and retraced the steps, finding a hidden basement in their father’s office. You glanced behind you once before jumping down into the hole.

“Damien? Gwen? Fucking anybody?” You kept glancing behind you, ax ready as you creeped your way through Vincent’s tunnels. Finally, you started to see the warm glow of candles at the very end of the section you were in. 

Caution thrown to the wind, you made a run for it and burst into what looked like Vincent’s workshop. You looked around, not seeing anything of interest besides one torture chair. You’d slit your throat before they got you in that. 

You found his desk, sketches scattered around the edges. You took a peek and were surprised to find a partially done profile of your face. You glanced around, making sure you were safe, before picking the sketch up. 

You looked pretty, even half done, he might have been a little to generous with you. Made you too elegant, noble, untouchable. Flattering if he wasn’t going to try and kill you. You saw something scrawled at the very bottom and your heart clenched, She was nice.

Perhaps you were too tender-hearted, to feel any pity for these monsters. But you’d seen the news articles in their father’s office, what had happened to their family, the chair Bo was once strapped in. What they were was their mother’s final project, the legacy she left behind, one of pain and hatred. Each of them hating themselves for different reasons because of her. 

But you weren’t an idiot, you saw the was in the title of your drawing. You might have been kind, but he wasn’t planning on letting you live. Something rattled in the room to your right and you threw the drawing down, turning towards the door and carefully opening it. 

“Y/N!” Owen cried out, relief making itself clear on his face as he saw you. “Get me out of here.” You rushed forward, kneeling down and trying to undo the straps around his ankles. But your fingers weren’t working properly, they felt like they were swelling and burning and useless. You whined in frustration as you tried to get the metal through the hole. 

“Fuck!” Owen kicked out as much as he could and you jumped back. “Can you do anything right? Just get me out of here!” He screeched. 

You went momentarily blind with rage, anger boiling in your gut so quickly you nearly keeled over. “I’m trying to help you, you fucking dick! You left me behind to that psycho earlier and I’m still trying to help you!” You screamed at him, not paying attention to the raw feeling of your throat or the footsteps behind you. “Why don’t you ever just shut up!”

You weren’t aware the ax was still in your hands, or maybe you were, as you brought your arms down in frustration. It landed in his thigh, barely missing the femoral artery, and he screamed. That type of scream you only hear from squealing pigs right before their butchered. 

You didn’t think you enjoyed it.

Didn't want to enjoy it. 

But you dug the blade in. 

He’d made your life a living hell, he’d tried to get you killed earlier, and even when you’d ignored it and tried to save him he still yelled at you. Granted, it wasn’t the worst thing he’s ever said to you, but it was the worst thing he could say at that moment. You pressed on the handle, not realizing you were smiling as he squealed some more. 

You got a headache after a second, struggling to rip the blade back out before you were lifting it once more and bringing it down over his neck, the blood splattering your face, bleeding into your open eyes as you watch his head topple to the ground. 

“Holy shit,” you turned around and looked at Bo, the fight draining from your body. “Didn’t think you had it in you.” He glanced at the ax in your hands and smiled, this one looked real, the realest he could manage. “Gonna kill me too?”

You shrugged, tossing the ax at his feet. “You gonna kill me?”

He looked at you, really looked at you, standing there covered in your ‘friend’s’ blood and unknowingly smiling at the carnage. “I don’t know,” he finally muttered. 

Part two

end. — I do not own the characters or the movie House of Wax (2005), but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[gtgbabie0]

A cold heart

{After distancing yourself from Cregan the truth finally comes out}

Hope you enjoy as always lovelies! 💕

CW// reader is pregnant

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Cregan grew up in the North, he became acclimatised to the cold weather as he grew, but yet he’s never felt so cold then he does right now in your shared bedchambers, despite the warmth of the fire. It’s a type of feeling that completely renders him numb. An aching feeling that sits heavy against his chest, it’s almost as if he can’t breathe.

He watches you climb into bed slipping underneath the many furs. His heart freezes as the realisation slowly sets in, he’s in for another night of silence, and like every other night for the past few weeks you’ll sleep as far away as possible, shrugging off his touch.

It's not that you didn't want him to touch you, quite the opposite actually. You just couldn't risk his wandering hands grazing against your tiny bump, you wouldn't let him find out, not that way.

He doesn’t think he can go another night of isolation. So he reaches out to you in hopes you’ll reopen your caged heart to him once again, just as you did all those moons ago when he confessed his feelings to you.

“Love, will you please tell me what’s bothering you? I can’t stand this silence” he says, a gentle hand against your shoulder and he winces when he feels you go rigid under his palm.

He retreats his hand not wanting to be the cause of your discomfort. You don’t look at him, far too afraid of the pain that will stain his face.

It’s not that you don’t want to tell him, in all honesty, you so desperately wanted to share the news, but you’ve heard so my awful stories from other ladies about their husbands seeking pleasure through other means, how they are completely abandoned by them simply because they were ‘undesirable’ it hurt to hear. You couldn’t imagine going through that.

So maybe that’s why you push Cregan away, because if you do it first it’ll hurt less when does inevitably happen.

“Nothing is wrong Cregan, I’m tired,” you say, wrapping your arms around yourself in search of comfort.

He likes to think that he is a calm man, never quick to anger but right now in this moment, anger is quick to warm his heart.

“Do not lie to me” he says, tone firm. You have only ever heard that when some lord made the mistake of insulting you in front of him, you remember thinking how you never wanted to be on the receiving end of that, yet here you are.

You sigh, biting back the tears that sting the back of your throat. “I just want to sleep Cregan” you whisper and he doesn’t miss the way your voice quivers.

You hear him let out a deep breath, then the bed shifts and he’s getting ready. The sudden change in the atmosphere makes you sit up, bringing the furs up with you, protecting yourself from the bitter cold.

“Where are you going?” You ask, watching as he laces up his boots, his eyes flicker to yours for a moment but they don’t linger long.

“I have work to do. Don’t wait up for me” he tells you and before you even have time to try and even think of what to say he’s gone.

You don’t bother stopping the tears that fall so effortlessly from your eyes. A regretful sob broke through your lips as you feel yourself engulfed by unwavering guilt, the type that pinches at your heart leaving bruises in its wake.

You can’t find solace in sleep, not without Cregan beside you. So you wait, and wait a book in your lap but you pay it no mind as your eyes stay fixed on the door.

You questioned whether or not he had already found another woman. Filthy thoughts tainting your mind, and you know it’s silly. Cregan would never break your trust or heart like that, never.

The hours seem to drag, and you contemplate if you should go out and find him yourself to say your sorries and give him a well-earned explanation, but the Maesters told you rest is the best thing for the babe.

Then the heavy wooden door opens, and there he is. “I told you not to wait up,” he says, and you watch him intently as he takes off his furs and leather.

You want to speak but you haven’t the slightest idea of where to even begin, there are so many words that rattle around in your brain but none of them seem good enough.

He looks over at you, and if it weren’t for the anger that still tingles his skin he would’ve felt sorry for the way you seemed to go in on yourself.

“Have I done something? Offended you somehow?— hurt you?” He wonders, wincing at the way his voice trembles, and the sound brings tears to your eyes.

You shake your head, trying to string a sentence together but the only thing that comes out is a pitiful sob. Emotions collide in your chest.

“Then what is it y/n? Why are you treating me as if I’m a stranger?” He asks, sitting at the end of the bed.

You study the scars that litter his chest, the one that travels across his ribcage that you love to you trace with gentle fingers, and you yearn to be held by him once again.

“I’m so sorry,” you tell him, your hand splayed against your collarbones. You can’t stop the cries that escape you. You shuffle down to where he’s sitting, a careful hand against his shoulder. “I’m sorry Cregan- I can explain” you gasp.

His slightly calloused hand soothes the expanse of your back, he hates seeing you so upset. The painful expression that paints your face, how your eyebrows furrow together. He promised himself that he’d do anything in his power to prevent this.

He wants to be mad, but he can't not when your shoulders shake as you try to stifle your cries behind a shaky hand.

“Love, breathe,” he says, taking your hand in his as he guides you through deep breaths. He’s always been so good at that.

He brings your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles gently and you sigh at the feeling of his beard against your skin.

“Cregan, I-” you look up at him as he urges you to continue, worry laced through his eyes, “I am with child” you whisper, your eyes flickering down to where your hands lay against his lap entwined with his own.

“The ladies have said- told stories of how their bodies change, how they no longer look the same as before- their husbands, they-” you sob, not being able to finish the sentence, a desperate need to get him to understand. And he does, he knows what you’re trying to say, and it hurts him beyond words that you would ever even consider the possibility.

His hands gently cup your tearful face, and he gives you the most endearing look he could muster. “My precious wife” he starts, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “You are the light of my life, my heart is yours entirely,” he tells you, a sense of relief washing over him as you fling yourself into his arms.

It was silly of you to doubt his love, especially for you. “I know- I’m sorry,” you tell him, kissing his shoulder.

“How long have you known?” He asks, his hands grasping at your hips.

“I had a suspicion for a while” you confess, bringing his hands to your belly. You let out a breathy giggle at the way his eyes light up with excitement as his hand soothe the expanse of your stomach.

He presses a gentle kiss to your lips before wiping away the stray tears that fall from your lashes, “A pup of our own eh?” He says, a teasing look flashing through his eyes as he urges you to lay against the pillows.

His hand dips underneath your nightdress grazing along your thigh travelling to rest at the curve of your stomach, your bump was barely there but yet he knows the difference. He smiles at you softly, enjoying the way your breath hitches at his touch.

“I promise I’ll take such good care of you, and our little one” he says, love bleeding into his tone as he peppers your neck with kisses. Your fingers thread through his hair as you urge him closer to you, you had missed him more than you thought.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

[sansaorgana]

— SECOND CHANCE

PAIRING — Erik Lehnsherr x fem!Mutant!Reader

SUMMARY — Long time ago, you made your choice not to follow Erik. It was a decision that you have been regretting ever since. Ten years later you finally see him again.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Finally, as I promised, another fic with Erik!!! And not the last one either! 😁 I have rewatched all X–Men movies recently and I have some ideas... 😊 Reader’s mutation is NOT specified.

WORD COUNT — 3,040

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

SECOND CHANCE

Tight, black and yellow suit was hot to touch from the heat of the sun. You still remembered that feeling; the hot material underneath your fingers when you were trying to adjust the torn piece on your shoulder to cover your wounded skin from the upcoming blows and punches. You also remembered the fear, the pounding heart in your chest and the metallic taste of blood on your tongue from accidentally biting it after landing flat-faced on the ground when the plane crashed. 

And you remembered Erik’s steel blue eyes. He was surprised to see you even hesitate after his invitation to stand by his side. He felt like there was no need for words. Your loyalty was something he wouldn’t dare to overthink. But you didn’t move, you kept standing, petrified. And he kept staring at you and your lungs were starting to fail you. It was so heavy to breathe.

Even Raven left Charles’ side – his somewhat sister – and you kept standing in the same spot with a dry mouth because you had forgotten to swallow.

“(Y/N),” Erik’s voice was stern but you knew him well enough to know that it was a desperate plea more than a request. You had spent so much time together, he took you for granted.

“I’m sorry, Erik, I can’t…” you heard the words leaving your mouth but it felt like someone else had said them. It felt like watching a movie, it was certainly not real.

“(Y/N),” he repeated your name and his jaw clenched but you knew it was not driven by his anger. His world was tumbling down, everything he had known was turning into dust. You were everything he had known and the only person he had. And now you were betraying him… Abandoning him. Just like his mother did because she was just a weak human and couldn’t protect herself from the bullet. Meanwhile, you were a weak mutant – weak, because instead of admiring him, you feared him at that moment. He wasn’t a telepath but he could sense your apprehension.

“I love you…” you heard yourself saying and felt a tear rolling down your cheek. You had never told him that. That state of your feelings was obvious but you had never made that confession. “...but I can’t join you.”

Something told you already that you would regret your decision. You watched them all disappear but you let yourself burst out in tears only after being left alone with Moira, Charles and Hank. You didn’t want Erik to know how much this decision had cost you because then you’d expose yourself to his manipulations and sweet promises and you knew you’d give in.

But you didn’t want to give in and for the first time in your life, you made an important decision all by yourself. It was a tough decision, it was painful and difficult but it was morally good. You should have been proud of yourself but instead you were cursing yourself in your mind.

“Th-thank you,” Charles coughed out and you cracked a smile through your own tears.

You didn’t choose him. It wasn’t about him at all and you could feel deep in your bones that you would grow to hate him for your own decision just because it meant being separated from Erik.

You woke up abruptly and sat up in your bed while breathing heavily. You couldn’t see anything; it was the middle of the night. You glanced at the clock on your nightstand. Three am. You turned a small lamp on and wiped the sweat off of your forehead before sighing deeply and falling back down on your pillow.

It was raining outside, the sound was making you feel comfortable and somehow safe. Cold rain was a reminder that the hot, sunny day on the beach was far away. The dream was only a memory of something that had happened a long time ago.

“Stop haunting me, you bastard,” you murmured and turned your head around to look at the photograph on your night stand, right between the clock and a small lamp.

It was the only picture of you and Erik ever taken. You were wearing a new red polka dot dress that he had stolen for you in a store in Paris and the picture was taken by the Eiffel Tower. You had been living like Bonnie and Clyde back in the day, or like two superagents; always on a hunt. Chasing traces and clues, never spending more than a few nights in the same place. Back in the day, you had thought that once you’d capture your main target, you’d settle down with Erik.

“But you’re not dead,” you whispered and reached your hand out to caress the picture’s frame. “You’re not a ghost, so you can’t haunt me.”

It was your own heart haunting you with the memory of the day you two had parted. It was caused by regret.

You sighed and rolled over in the huge bed, feeling so small in the middle of it. Ten years earlier, the two of you had been sleeping in it together for a few weeks. It had been the longest time you had ever spent in one place. You had hoped it would become your home.

Your biggest regret was not even the fact that you and Erik were parted. Your biggest regret was that he was in jail now, deep under the ground. And you thought that it wouldn’t had happened… if only you were with him.

On the other hand, every single person that had joined him was dead – except for Raven. That was the argument Charles would often bring up whenever you whined about your current life.

And, God, you hated your life and you hated Charles Xavier. Well, not really. At this point you were like a dysfunctional family – but still a family – so you couldn’t say that you hated him. But he was an asshole, addicted to alcohol and that medicine that Hank had prepared for him. The mansion was dark and dirty, full of spiderwebs and dust. You only took care of your bedroom and the en suite bathroom. It wasn’t your job to be a maid of Charles and Hank.

At first your life hadn’t been so bad. You had been a teacher, you had your students and your schedule had been distracting you from thinking of Erik all the time. But now your life was full of long and boring days without any purpose and meaning. You were wasting your life away and you couldn’t even be with a man whom you loved. You spent most of your time reading books, taking walks around the neglected garden and taking long naps.

You turned the lamp off and formed a big roll out of your duvet to put your arms around it like it was a person. It would help you to fall asleep on nights like this.

“Are you thinking of me, too?” you asked quietly before drifting away to the land of dreams once again.

The arrival of that man known as Logan was the first exciting thing that had happened to you in years. And when he mentioned something about helping Erik to escape the Pentagon, you felt the mixture of anxiety and excitement.

The possibility of seeing Erik again was worth risking everything. Even if he wouldn’t want to look at you twice after all these years, after the abandonment and betrayal. You just wanted to see him again, look into his eyes, feel him being real and alive. You wanted the constant yearning and guilt to go away. You felt like you owed him the escape.

Of course Charles didn’t want to do it but it was about Raven more than about Erik, so he gave in. But he knew very well that you couldn’t wait to see your lover again so he kept giving you weird looks. And he wasn’t the only one.

“What is it?” you asked after spotting Logan in your mirror.

You were in your bedroom, preparing yourself to go with them all to find some mutant boy who was extremely fast.

“I’m sorry,” he emerged from the darkness and cleared his throat after properly entering your room instead of lurking inside through the ajar door.

“Don’t be sorry,” you shrugged your arms and fixed your hair. “I’m just wondering why are you scared of me. Or intimidated by me, I don’t know how to interpret your odd looks and why you’re avoiding me,” you explained and turned around to face him.

“Rule number one of a time traveller,” he cracked a smile, “is that you can’t reveal anything about the future.”

“Oh, so it has something to do with my future,” you cocked an eyebrow. “Now you have to tell me,” you insisted. “Are we, like, enemies?”

“It’s the first time I’m meeting you in real life,” he admitted and you furrowed your brows. “You’re more of a legend, I’d say. A myth perhaps.”

Your heart skipped a beat at that revelation. So, in the future you were apparently long gone. You only hoped that you wouldn’t die before making things right between you and Erik again.

“How will I die?”

“Perhaps not at all if we prevent Raven killing Trask,” he explained and you sighed with relief.

One thing you had in common with Charles was your hope – sometimes too naive and too innocent for your own good. But after finding out that this part of your future remains unwritten, for you it was like it wouldn’t happen at all. You had hope that you would manage to stop Raven. You were almost certain of it.

But still, there was some universe, some version of the timeline, where you had died.

“But when I died…” you started.

“I really don’t want to give you any details,” he shook his head.

“Just one thing, please,” you pleaded. “Was I with him again before that?”

Logan laughed a little and you furrowed your brow.

“So… That’s why Magneto is so dangerous,” he explained. “If I lost a woman who loved me so much, I would swear to destroy everything, too.”

You felt your cheeks heating up a little at that comment. It still wasn’t an answer to your question but it was enough – Erik loved you. Still.

“Let’s go,” you said and left the room to join Hank and Charles downstairs.

Charles decided it would be a bad idea for you to go to the Pentagon with the rest of them. You were supposed to wait for them on a plane – just in case they got into some sort of trouble, you’d be out of it so you could rescue them. That was Charles’ explanation. But in fact, he wasn’t sure of what you’d do after seeing Erik for the first time in ten years.

You were sitting in one of the seats, fixing your hair all the time, nervous of the way you looked. After all, ten years had passed and you weren’t as young as you had been on that beach when you had seen him for the last time. On your lap there was a bag with new clothes for Erik to wear so he wouldn’t have to walk around in a prisoner’s uniform. Your palms were sweaty and shaky as your heart pounded so loud that you couldn’t hear anything else.

There was a lump in your throat and a pit in your stomach as you chewed on your lower lip. And then you heard a whoosh sound and all of the guys showed up in front of you. At first, you didn’t react, too shocked to do anything.

When you realized that it was, in fact, Erik standing in front of you – real and alive – you stood up abruptly as the bag fell down off of your lap to the ground. He made wide eyes at you, Charles probably hadn’t told him that you’d be waiting.

“Let’s get out of here,” said Charles and sat down in one of the seats. Logan followed him while Hank sat behind the steer. Erik and you were still standing and staring at each other.

He hadn't changed much. His hair was shorter and there were a few more wrinkles on his face, but that would be it. You hoped he was thinking the same about you.

“I… I’ve got clothes for you… To ch-change,” you crouched down to pick up the bag before handing it to him.

It felt so surreal to see him again that you couldn’t even say “hello”.

“Thank you,” was all he said and your fingers brushed when he was taking the bag from you. Your whole body felt like it had been hit with an electric bolt.

Erik walked past you to go to the bathroom and you turned around to watch his back disappear behind the door.

“Wait,” you breathed out and followed him inside. Both Charles and Logan turned their heads to watch the scene. It had to be entertaining for them.

But they couldn’t see anything anyway because you closed the door after walking inside the bathroom after Erik. You couldn’t control your own body, it was all impulses and instincts leading your actions.

“What are you–” Erik started but you clashed your lips with his before he could finish the question.

He was surprised and taken aback at first but eventually he placed his big hands on both of your cheeks and pulled you even closer. You tangled your hands in his hair and opened your mouth wider to let him devour you with a kiss.

Long time ago you had been laying in bed together, in one of the cities that you had only been passing by. You remembered watching some war movie on TV in a hotel room and you remembered the long on-screen kiss. Your head had been on Erik’s chest and you had looked up to watch his face as you had been wondering what it was like to kiss someone after such a long time. Now you knew.

He broke the kiss when he felt your wet tears on his thumbs. You both caught your breaths and he wiped your cheeks gently. His own eyes were glistening, too.

“I thought you were with him now,” he said.

You took a step back – as much as the small bathroom allowed you to.

“You asshole,” you clenched your jaw and turned around to open the door and leave but he locked it without even lifting a finger. And when you tried to unlock it aggressively, he kept locking it back again until you gave up with a sigh and faced him again. “First thing you do after seeing me again is accusing me of cheating?” you asked, disappointed.

“Cheating? That would mean we were together all this time,” he raised an eyebrow. “As far as I remember, you chose him.”

“I know you were fucking Raven,” you pursed your lips to stop yourself from crying more, “and that other woman, too, probably. Emma, that was her name, right? Angel, too, I assume. I don’t care. I didn’t choose to go with you, you were free to do whatever you wanted. But it doesn’t mean that I didn’t choose to go with you because of him. I chose that for myself. And I have hated myself for it every day since then. I wanted to be a good person and do the right thing but turns out I am not. I am not a good person. Because all I want is to be with you again,” you confessed and blinked a few times to dry your fresh tears.

“You weren’t looking for me. I was waiting for you to change your mind and join me,” Erik clenched his jaw like he was waiting for some complicated explanation. But the answer was easy.

“I was afraid of you. I was afraid of the man I had seen on that beach, Erik. All these years we spent together, you had never told me what had been truly hiding in your head. I always thought it was about hunting Schmidt. I never knew you shared his ideas,” you swallowed thickly and sniffled.

“I didn’t want you to ever be afraid of me,” Erik’s fingers raised your chin up as he looked deep into your eyes. “You know that protecting you is my priority, always. Even if it means destroying the world,” he confessed as your eyes widened. It reminded you of what Logan had said earlier.

“I know,” you cracked a smile and he caressed your cheek. You leaned in to kiss the palm of his hand and held onto his wrist for a moment while looking into his eyes. “Will you do everything right this time? For me? I don’t want you to destroy the world. I just want you to fix everything so we can get the second chance,” you explained. “In our old room in Charles’ house there is still a drawer full of your clothes and I still wash them sometimes, pretending that you are using them, pretending that you’re going to come back soon. I make up the bed on your side and I keep a razor in the bathroom in case you wanted to shave,” you kept talking and talking and you knew that you were blabbering at this point but after all these years, you had to let it all out, along with the tears rolling down your cheeks uncontrollably now.

Erik furrowed his brow as his eyes full of pain were watching your face. Eventually, he shushed you and pressed your head to his chest to give you a comforting hug. The one you had been craving for so long.

“I will fix everything,” he made a promise and rubbed your back before giving kisses to your temple and the top of your head. “But I don’t think I want to go back to that house. I don’t think I can share Charles’ ideas and optimism.”

“It’s alright,” you shook your head. Now it was time for you to make a promise, too. “This time I will follow you wherever you go.”

MASTERLIST

[saerins]

─── 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑

+ itoshi rin x f!reader | wc 6k | content: mostly fluff, some angst, rin is so awkward, childhood friends to lovers

notes: my first time writing something for rin so i’m nervous but i hope you guys like it <3 pls i hope i didn’t butcher him >_< rbs & feedback appreciated muwah !

summary: rin thinks about you all the time, for better or for worse. problem is, he really shouldn’t be anymore. things never seem to work out for the both of you, will trying even make a difference this time?

rin knows you don’t like flowers. no wait, you like them, you just don’t like receiving them. you cried once, when the flower he plucked for you died within a few days in your makeshift vase.

rin also knows that while other girls dream of their dream wedding, you dream of a nice cosy house, a modern one with touches of japanese accents. he likes to hear you talk about it. he likes to hear you talk about anything at all, actually.

he’s known you ever since you were both little, since you were both five and just two kids in the playground playing hide and seek.

rin would always win, because you’re as clumsy as it gets and you’re not that observant. you could never find him, even if he’s right there. he likes it though; seeing you look for him, that little panicky look in your eyes when you think he’d ever actually abandon you and run off.

he played with you whenever he could—you were both neighbours after all. it was fun, being with you was fun.

you reminded him of new beginnings, like how it feels like jumping into a pool after a long hard day of training, or how the sun feels like hitting your skin on a cold winter day.

it was second nature for him—to seek you out whenever he had a hard time, to look for you when he needed a distraction, to search for you in the crowd to seek some familiarity.

but it’s easy for flimsy things to break. the both of you were just kids, and kids did childish things, like think only for the moment and not further into the future, did silly things like saying you’d marry one another with fake paper rings and forget it the very next day (rin remembers). kids also handle things in a bad way, in the way that leaves no room for the friend they pushed away.

if rin regrets anything from his past, it’s that he took sae’s departure out on you.

rin doesn’t know how to process things well. can’t decide why exactly he’s so pressed about sae’s choice of words. doesn’t know what to make of why he even plays soccer. is it just because of his brother?

he doesn’t fucking know.

rin’s sorry.

it isn’t your fault his brother found a different path. you had nothing to do with it. you and those brownies you cooked for him. he’s sorry that he let them fall to the ground and just stormed off.

that was what, three or four years ago? you’d moved out by then, and the both of you had never spoken since.

if he’s being honest, he misses your presence. maybe it’s the fact that you were his manifestation of a safety net, someone that he could fall back on, someone he could lean on.

maybe he’s just being an asshole.

now he’s seventeen and probably even more of an asshole. if anything, sae’s departure left a bitter taste in his mouth that he wasn’t able to cleanse.

but he’s lucky you’re you. you’re you and that means you don’t hold grudges and you’re still the kindest person he’s ever known.

“rin?”

he stops his hand in mid motion, the key between his fingers dropping onto the wooden floorboards below. rin can’t seem to function anymore—he knows that voice. all too well.

it’s the voice that made him excited as a kid, it’s the same voice that comforted him whenever he fell short of perfect, the same voice that haunts his dreams sometimes at night, even now.

rin turns around and sees you there, at his front porch, smiling all awkwardly and chuckling nervously, your hands in your pocket because you never know what to do with them when you’re uncomfortable.

“hi,” is all he manages to choke out because he’s still a little stunned and his key is long lost and forgotten on the ground.

“hey stranger,” you grin, and his heart beats faster and faster as you get closer and closer.

the both of you are no longer kids, and it’s so painfully obvious now in front of him. he can’t stop fucking staring even if his inner voice is screaming at him to.

“i thought you moved away,” rin manages to say, and because he’s really curious as to why you’re even here, in this place you’re not supposed to be, talking to someone you haven’t spoken to in years.

“i’m, uh, here just to visit my family,” you stutter out, and rin wants to call you out on it so bad, but he can’t do that without exposing himself.

how could he possibly tell you that he knows none of your family is left here in the neighbourhood because he’s asked everyone who used to be in contact with your family? how can he possibly say that without exposing himself for going through your social profiles just to find out that you’ve moved out to another city with your entire family?

so, what are you here for then?

“hey, you wanna, uh, go eat dinner together? or something? later?” you’re so awkward rin could die. rin’s so awkward he could just kill himself.

the silence is deafening and it’s not that he doesn’t want to have dinner with you, it’s just that he has soccer training in the evening and he’s still in shock from the fact that you’re here in the flesh and—

“it’s okay, forget i asked, i was just—”

“no, i mean,” rin trips over his own words and the two of you are just two stupid idiots standing on the itoshi family’s porch doing stupid idiot things. he takes a deep breath, “where should we eat?”

that smile you shoot him is deadly and he wants to keep it forever. if that’s even possible. but he’s really awkward with his feelings and he doesn’t even know what he feels for you. all he knows is that he wants you to stay here again, be within reach for him.

“pick me up at six on your bike?” you nod over to his bicycle, and he blushes so hard because despite getting countless valentines from other girls, none of them have the same effect on him as you do.

rin thinks he should shake his head and say no and pretend like you don’t exist again. he shouldn’t go on this pseudo date with you.

yet he does. he picks you up where you said you’d be, at a hotel near the heart of the city. he’s on his bicycle, just like you asked of him, and you definitely dressed for the ride, comfortable in shorts and a tank top. you’ve gotten from cute to so so pretty and rin finds it so damn difficult to tear his eyes away from you.

when you get on the back of his bicycle, you put your hands around his waist and he can actually feel how fast your heart is beating. rin’s is too, but he’s grateful you probably can’t tell.

also at your request, he takes you to a spot he chose—which is nothing extravagant because you’re both still broke students who haven’t earned your own money, but he thinks you’ll like it anyway.

after getting some cup noodles from a nearby convenience store, he pedals over to the playground the both of you used to spend ages at when you were kids. the place where you used to play hide and seek with each other.

it’s a place of significance. at least, to him. he wonders if you even remember this place.

“nice choice, itoshi rin,” you say, and rin has his answer. “i missed this place.”

and rin missed you, but he isn’t going to say that.

“i’m surprised you remember,” he tells you, choosing to sit down on the swings. you follow and sit on the only other one beside him, your cup noodle hot and ready in your hands. “how’s kyushu?”

you slurp up some of your noodles, and rin thinks you look beautiful just like this anyway. “it’s okay, made some friends so that makes it more tolerable.” you’re shrugging like it’s no big deal, but he can tell by the faraway look in your eyes that there’s more to it.

“tokyo’s better, huh?” he isn’t much for small talk, but he can’t help himself—it’s been far too long without you, and he wants to feel close to you again. it’s as though after everything that happened—sae moving abroad, you moving away, rin feeling lost—it’s like he doesn’t really know how to be your friend anymore.

nodding your head, you turn to him. “much better.”

and rin can’t help but think that there’s a deeper meaning to your answer. but he doesn’t press.

maybe he should’ve, because when you switch the topic, he finds he doesn’t like what he’s hearing.

“anyway, i’m only here for a day,” you tell him, going back to your noodles. “i fly back tomorrow.”

some part of him wants to ask you why you’re even here. he wants to know about the you now, about how much has changed in these few years, what you like now—do you still like hot chocolate in the winter, do you still get colds easily, do you still think about him after all this time?

“are you… going to come back for college?” because if you still wanted to go to university in tokyo, you’d have to move back here. rin thinks he’d like that.

you’re a little taken aback because from what you’d heard from your old friends, rin had become someone they barely recognised; cold, blunt, more like his brother than himself. but in front of you now, you feel like the rin you know is still in there.

but this is where it gets hard.

“actually…” you trail off because you don’t really know where to start. “i got into a university in america. my mother got a job there and she wants me to go with her.”

you don’t even want to look at him right now. you don’t really know what you want to see. some silly part of you wants to see that he minds, that he’ll make a big deal out of you going away somewhere even further than the other side of japan. but if he doesn’t, if he looks like it doesn’t affect him at all, then you don’t think you can handle that.

“oh.” ever the best at giving a non-response, you’re not surprised.

it’s silent for a while, and the two of you are just eating your noodles, and it’s so suffocating that you want to bolt and run but that means you probably won’t ever get to see rin again and you don’t want that.

your body is screaming at you to do something, to say anything, to savour whatever time you have left with rin now properly—but you can’t.

beside you, the gears are turning in his head. rin’s noodles are already gone and he isn’t even aware his chopsticks are grappling around for nothing but soup.

america? that’ll mean you’re at least twelve hours away and he can’t even imagine what that’ll mean for your friendship. or whatever the fuck this muddy waters is.

rin wants to say something, anything—but what? don’t go? when are you coming back? are we ever going to be at the same place at the same time again after tonight?

he’s conflicted between his possible feelings and his selfishness. so he resigns to not saying anything at all. all that’s left for the night is hearing the wind blowing past your faces and the creaking of the swings, very much like how he envisioned a bad goodbye to go.

that night he gives you a ride back to your hotel despite your insistence that it’s late. because who do you take him for? did it mean nothing to you that this might be the last time?

“so, uh, i’ll see you around, i guess,” you say as you step off of his bicycle, after a trip that seems way too fast. rin already misses the sensation of your arms around his waist.

he thinks it’s a stupid sentence. realistically, in every single way he can think it’ll play out, it ends with the both of you drifting apart anyway, and he finds himself wishing you never came back.

which is untrue. which is the furthest it could possibly be from the truth. but rin doesn’t want to think about that right now.

“okay then, goodbye,” rin decides, because he’s not about to get his own hopes up for nothing. if you’re about to vanish, then maybe it’s high time he gets it done.

rin steps on the pedal, but then you stop him, voice clear as the first day he met you. “rin, wait!”

you’re not sure why it slipped out, but it did.

“what is it?”

his eyes are cool, calm, a dead teal that stares right through you. you’re almost intimidated because you’re not sure just what he’s thinking of you right now. he must think you’re a freak, showing up like this and dropping a bomb that he may or may not care about.

“um, nothing, it’s just- is there anything else?”

some part of you wants him to ask you to stay in tokyo. maybe the both of you could find a university together and stay in close proximity, just like when you were kids, just like how you liked it.

just like everything you missed.

and now the two of you are staring at each other, knowing yet not knowing everything that’s going through one another’s mind. but it gets lost in translation because neither of you can find the words to say.

rin blinks at you, and you can’t even read him if you tried. “no, nothing. is there something you wanna say?”

you shake your head, smiling through it. “no, nothing. goodbye.”

you’re back through the hotel double doors before you know it, and rin’s left to watch your silhouette fade away.

for the first time in his life, he feels like he’s lost something precious that he’ll never find again.

life goes on.

rin graduates from high school and so do you. the texting stopped, and that much he expected. better to cut the cord sooner rather than later, even if rin wished for otherwise.

he rides on a full scholarship to university, and from the online grapevines, he hears that you’re doing the same. you’re smart, so he’s not surprised.

this is the right thing to do; both of you have your own lives to concentrate on. some stupid crush doesn’t matter. and yes, rin has already conceded to the feeling because he can’t explain this any other way.

his frustration that comes from your separation, his anger when it comes to being helpless, his endless regret from not saying anything that night—it’s only because he wants you.

“i hear y/n’s doing good at her new school,” rin hears his mom cooing from the kitchen. he sighs. of course she did, yours and his moms are both close. yet another channel through which he can get updates on you, warranted or not.

“yeah?” he pretends not to care much, but he’s hanging on her every word.

“yeah, it’s valentines’ day around the corner too, i hear she has lots of guys lining up.”

kill him. kill him right fucking now.

“good for her.” good for you he’s not there to stare daggers at all the guys ogling at you. good for you he’s not there to commit bloody murder.

“i think so too, ah she’s all grown up,” his mother chatters on, completely oblivious to the torment she’s subjecting her son to. “i hear she’s having her first date next week, i heard he’s a model too, did she talk to you about it?”

you must’ve played it off to your mother that you and rin are fine. rin sighs, tired of the thoughts running through his head. as if soccer wasn’t tiring enough already.

“don’t know, maybe.”

just like his feelings for you, and his willingness to act on it.

two years into university and it isn’t that hard for him anymore.

actual lectures and assignments take up half of his time, and the other half is reserved for soccer. with teammates like isagi yoichi and bachira meguru annoying him even outside of practice, rin doesn’t even have much time to think of you.

until he’s forced to.

“what about you, rin? is there anyone special in your life?”

bachira tuts, “isagi, he’s always buried in books and practicing soccer, it’s obviously a no.”

rin’s annoyed, half because what bachira said is true and half because isagi made him think of you. it’s been a while since he knew what was up with you. you’re probably doing well, probably thriving in that environment, probably all in love with your boyfriend—that stupid yukimiya kenyu that you accepted for valentine’s last year.

he carefully extracts himself from isagi and bachira’s bickering, feigning that he’s looking through the aisle for books except what he’s really doing is scrolling through his phone and hunting for your profile.

what other way is he supposed to get updates? definitely not from you, because you’ve been so fucking radio silent since that night.

all that rin sees that day is a story posted to your account. just a backdrop of the view in your city with the words some things just aren’t meant to be.

you’re right. some things aren’t. including the both of you. so rin tucks his phone away in his pocket and goes about his day, half happy that it sounds like you’re not with yukimiya anymore, half concerned that this is what the both of you became.

somehow he’s here. he’s right fucking here and it’s him this time that’s going to surprise you. unintentionally. or intentionally, if you argued that he agreed to come in the first place.

“isn’t this place so beautiful?” his mother’s words are lost on him. he’s too busy thinking of you.

his mother’s here to visit your mother and by extension he guesses you’ll be there. it’s supposedly the summer break anyway.

and you really are there, on your front porch this time, freezing up when you catch sight of rin walking up your driveway.

nothing can describe his relief when you actually walk up to him and talk to him, because a part of him was expecting you to slap him for some reason.

“still watching horror movies for fun?” you ask him when you’re finally alone together, away from the ruckus of both your moms.

you missed him, he and his teal eyes and his absurdly longer fringe and his awkward demeanour. he’s a long shot from the person you knew as a kid. he’s taller, more muscles, more stoic, handsome. you were too shy to look at him properly that night in tokyo, but you can now.

“i don’t really have time for fun.” rin turns away, a little horrified you remember as much about him as you do. you’d been asking him things you remember from back when you guys were five. “how’re things here?”

you hum in contemplation, like you’re considering your words, and rin looks at you this time, admiring the way you look in the sunlight, the smile stuck onto your face, the voice that he’d never get tired of.

“it’s fine, school’s great, boyfriend’s great, everything’s… great.”

boyfriend?

“that yukimiya guy?”

fuck. fuck fuck fuck. he didn’t mean to say that. fuck. you’re gonna know he stalked you. he doesn’t even fucking follow you, he has no good excuse for knowing that.

you blink once, twice, confused and then getting bashful from the realisation. “um, yeah. things were rocky at first and then it got better so…”

rin is internally strangling himself. he needs to stop having thoughts about a taken girl. he needs to stop wondering what you taste like, what you look like in the mornings when you just wake up, what you’d sound like when you’re sleepy.

“that’s… good.”

the two of you are awkward to bits and he wishes he was someone different right now.

the day ends with nothing substantial. rin couldn’t talk much after he hears you’re still with yukimiya. you couldn’t even stay much because you had plans with him anyway. who’s he to stand in your way? rin’s just an old friend from the past. that’s all. there’s nothing more.

that’s what he thinks. until that same night when he’s all packed and ready to go for the next afternoon’s flight. all because you called him out of the blue. he’s amazed you still have his number.

“hey, rin.”

from the first moment you opened your mouth, he can tell you’re crying. shit, why are you crying?

“are you okay?” because you’re probably the only person in the world who can tug on his heartstrings like this. for being the only person in this world he has feelings for.

you’re forcing a laugh, like you’re not sure what to say. rin doesn’t really know either.

“am i not worth anything?” your question takes him off guard.

doesn’t take a genius to know something probably happened between you and yukimiya. and it doesn’t take much for you to get rin bolting out the door.

“where are you?”

“home,” you sniffle, and you must hear him getting into a cab, “i’m fine, you don’t have to come—”

“i’m coming,” he tells you, firmly, and he can almost tell you’re smiling from the other side of the line.

rin’s heart is racing, adrenaline pumping through his veins. he’s not sure why, but he’s ached to get closer to you since forever, and he passed it up the last time, the previous time you met in tokyo.

his heart’s still racing when you let him into the house, when it’s all dark and unfamiliar and you’re so close to him he can smell the shampoo off your hair.

apparently yukimiya never got over his first love, and you’d caught him locked in a kiss with her right before your dinner.

he’s not good with these situations. at comforting people, at being so close to the girl he likes that he’s trying his very best not to fucking kiss her right now. how does he tell you that you’re good enough, right now, when you keep rambling on and on about how you think you’re not? he really wants to shut you up but he can only think of kissing you and maybe that’s not a can of worms you want to open right now.

besides, if he does that, you might look at him as something temporary, a crutch you need right now but not for the long run and call him crazy but if he’s going to try this much for you, he doesn’t want to be the rebound.

but god fucking damn it, he’ll kill himself if he chickens out now.

you fall asleep after crying your guts out, and rin’s barely said ten words to you all night. he carries you to your room, puts you down on your bed and he resists placing a kiss on your forehead even if you won’t know it.

there’s no time left here for him, he’ll have to go back home tomorrow afternoon and you’ll be worlds apart once again. tonight may have been just a fluke; you probably just needed someone and rin was a safe bet.

he writes something down on a rough paper sitting on your desk and leaves it there before he goes. it’s irritating, how much you’re making him think, how much you’re making him flip flop between various moods.

one moment he decides to leave you alone and the next moment he doesn’t want to leave your side. there’s just something about seeing you so heartbroken that he can’t forgive.

and how kind the world is, to serve the guy who broke your heart to rin in a silver platter. he’d recognise that hair and those glasses anywhere—yukimiya kenyu.

“who’re you?”

rin doesn’t respond, only pushes him away. “if you know what’s good for you, leave.”

“what are you talking about?”

“i know what you did to y/n.”

yukimiya sighs, “look that’s what i wanted to talk to y/n about. i wanted to do this properly, to talk it out with her properly but then my ex was the one who—”

“shut the fuck up, i don’t care.”

yukimiya looks like he wants to retaliate, like he wants to argue back, and it would’ve probably turned into an all-out brawl if your mother didn’t rush out of the house at just the right time.

rin doesn’t bother with anything else after that. he leaves even though your mother tells him he can stay. frankly, he’s not sure he can stand being in the same room as yukimiya without giving him a punch.

the next morning comes and you haven’t left any messages. rin’s already back in japan for a while when you decide you’re finally ready to call him. but he’s heartbroken from thinking he was stupid to leave you that note so he rarely pays attention to his phone.

you end up having to leave it on his voicemail instead.

you said to call you if i wanted to try and… i do.

whatever yukimiya had come to say to you that night, it probably didn’t work, because rin does hear your voicemail. he hears your voice saying that you want to try, with him, and he thinks he may have been dreaming for a while.

but then he plays it over and over and over again.

he’s a few years late, but better late than never, he thinks.

you have two more years before you get your degree, and rin’s not about to get in between that. what he does do is pay you a visit from time to time because he hates this goddamn physical distance between the both of you.

it starts with the both of you talking to each other over the phone, the painfully awkward conversations turning more and more bearable. after a while, you’re the one getting him out of his shell, purposely teasing him all the time, getting reactions out of him.

he stays over at your apartment near school whenever he visits. you share the same bed for the first time and somehow it’s not uncomfortable. he lays beside you like he’s meant to be there. and you fall asleep so fast whenever he’s there, like he’s your damn lullaby.

distance starts to feel like nothing for the both of you, because it never wanes your feelings. even when he’s in japan and you’re halfway across the world, it doesn’t feel like you’re very far.

besides, he likes how it is—you chase your dreams, he chases his. the future can wait. the uncertainties can come later.

they come faster than he bargained for.

you’re nearing graduation while he’s nearing the end of his current contract term with a japanese club, but you’ve scored a job with one of the hottest startups in america. which means you’re going to be there.

for a long while.

“take it,” rin tells you, because you’ve called him to tell him this because you don’t know if you want to. but he can tell, like he always can when it comes to you. you want to take it, and he’s the only factor that’s stopping you. because before now, you’ve been thinking of coming back to tokyo and working at one of the bigger firms here.

looks like that plan’s not going to pan out though, because rin will kill himself before he becomes the reason that you’re not being the best version of yourself.

“but that means…”

there you go, hesitating again.

“we’ll figure it out. we did it once before, we’ll do it again.”

you chuckle in relief because somehow, itoshi rin has become your rock. he went from being some stoic and inexpressive human to being your voice of reason.

“you’re right, you’re right,” you concede. because yes, he’s always right somehow.

so you accept the offer, signing yourself away for another five years.

“what does that mean for the both of you though?”

you sigh. you’re not sure. rin hasn’t said much beyond what he did during that phone call nearly a year back, and he hasn’t come to visit for a few months now so you can’t really tell what’s going on in his head.

long distance sucks.

“i don’t know, mom,” you confess, “i don’t want this to be the end. but i can’t see a future where the both of us are always in different countries.”

your mother doesn’t say anything much after that, it’s not like she has any personal experience on the matter.

you think about it all throughout your finals period, all throughout your graduation transition. you’re not sure that you and rin can just make it through this by just winging it like how you’d always been. and you think maybe rin is just full of it, maybe he’s just as much in denial about this as you are. he hasn’t even been texting you as much nowadays, not after the news.

your phone vibrates on your table as you’re idly staring out the window. it’s a week to graduation.

a text from rin.

meet me after your ceremony next week, we need to talk.

and the anxiety kicks in.

rin shows up at your graduation ceremony like he said he would. he dresses up nicely, white dress shirt and black pants—simple, classy, handsome. you can spot him even from where you are, up near the stage.

yeah, you’d been nervous ever since he sent you that text.

it didn’t help that he didn’t talk to you much up until today, when his flight landed and he’d told you about it even though he knows you have his flight details in your handy little app.

when you run over to him after the ceremony, you find quite a funny sight before your eyes. never in your life did you think you’d ever see rin looking sharp as ever in a white shirt and pants only to be carrying what looks like a bouquet of—not flowers but—nuggets on sticks and chocolate.

rin smiles sheepishly when you get to him. “you don’t want flowers right?”

yeah, you’re in love with him. dorky, stupid rin with his abstract ways of showing love. you love how he remembers details like this since way back when you were kids. you love his awkwardness and his acts of service. you love him and everything he has and all that he doesn’t.

“thanks, i love it,” you gush, taking the bouquet from him, accepting your parents’ offer to help take a picture of the both of you.

they take a ton of pictures.

in one of them, rin kisses your temple and you think you might melt. in another, you kiss his cheeks in return and he’s a deep shade of red. those are before the last picture where he turns you to face him and presses a kiss on your lips, earning a few whistles from the people around you.

you punch him playfully on the chest for that. you hear him chuckle and that might be your favorite sound ever.

rin surprises you too, because the next thing you know, he’s dragging you along with him, running to his car parked by the curb; you’re wondering how he even had the time to rent it.

“where are we going?”

your gown is long discarded into the back seats and rin only offers you a smirk in return. he’s not telling, and you roll your eyes and let it be.

whatever it is, you’re excited.

maybe it’s the fact that you had been thinking the worst up until this point. or maybe it’s the fact that he has his hand on your bare thigh. hell, it could even just be the fact that you’re sitting in a car with the prettiest guy you’ve ever met. but your heart is beating out of your chest and for the first time, you feel like this can be nothing but good news.

rin proves you right, because he takes you somewhere unfamiliar and then tells you why exactly he’s been distant the past week. he takes your hand and leads you through the front doors of what he now calls “our house”.

everything you’ve ever told him you wanted in your dream house; wooden overheads, small koi pond out back, a beautiful rooftop garden with a wooden porch swing.

everything.

he made it real. he made your dream house without you asking. he’s telling you he’ll move here if that’s what it takes to be with you. he tells you he loves you more than he can ever imagine loving anything else at all. he says that he’ll always be with you, and this time he doesn’t want to be apart to do it.

he asks you, “will you try to make it work with me?”

as if he even needs to.

if anyone asked you back then if you thought rin was capable of any of this, you’d say no. because the boy you knew at five is passive, quiet, not the kind to make declarations like these.

yet here he is, almost twenty years later, promising to put you first and make this last because he’s sure this is what he wants.

“itoshi rin,” you slowly call his name, roping your arms around his shoulder while the both of you look at each other and only each other as you stand on the staircase landing. “what would you have done if i said no?”

because this is all extravagant—rin put his everything into this. dug up all the memories of your dream house, ran himself haggard just to get all of this done on time, and who knows what else because he kept all of this from you?

rin has a straight face, beautiful teal eyes rolling to the side as he contemplates. “guess that was never an option in my head.”

“you’re so stupid,” you tease, pressing a kiss onto his soft lips and relishing in the fact that this is just the first kiss of many to come.

because he’s now here. here with you. and he’s here to stay.

“guess that’s why i need you around to take care of me,” rin teases back, biting his lower lip and smirking at you.

you jump up and he catches you, your legs crossed behind his back as he carries you to the kitchen, setting you down on the countertop.

“so, itoshi rin,” you say again, suppressing a grin. “does that mean you’re gonna make me your wife one day?”

rin sighs and rolls his eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “okay, trouble, dial back a bit now. one step at a time.”

he’s lying through his teeth, a ring passed down through his family for generations already nestled neatly in the hidden compartment of the nightstand in the bedroom. he’s lying—but you don’t need to know that. not yet.

you’re all trouble, and all beautiful and all his and rin is going to marry you someday.

because he may be dumb in a lot of ways, may be a little awkward and terrible in most situations and not the friendliest guy out there. but somehow you chose him and you always did and you always will so he’s not going to let you regret that decision.

so before you can make a comeback and expose him for really wanting to marry you, he kisses you to shut you up, and you know anyway.

because you’ve known rin since you were five, playing hide and seek in the playground. you never won because you could never find him. but you think now you have; you’ve found him and he’s not going anywhere. not anymore.

“i’m never gonna let you leave me, itoshi rin.”

he chuckles, “i’m all yours, trouble.”

[auspicioustidings]

Ae Fond Kiss - Part 8 (Final)

A Red, Red Rose

Summary: A bombshell is dropped and you look to the future. Words: 2k TWs: mention of miscarriage

So I've lost interest in this fic hence why we have a rushed wrap up because I didn't just want to abandon it :') All parts - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

“We gonna do this forever then Johnny?”

It was a form of torture Simon was sure, them having lunch together once a week every week and making small talk. He missed his best friend. He missed being able to say something outrageous and knowing Johnny would call him a sick bastard and then immediately try to outdo him.

“Eat lunch?” Johnny replied a little miserably, shuffling pasta about his plate.

“Johnny…”

“What dae ye want me tae say LT?”

“Not your LT anymore, retired remember? And Price told me about your promotion.”

Captain John MacTavish did have a nice ring to it, and Soap had more than earned the stripes. In another world he’d have grinned at Ghost, smug as anything and making some comment about being able to order him around now. But instead he frowned and Simon hated it. 

“Talk to me for Christ sake!”

“I cannae! Ye want me tae tell ye how much I miss your wife? How it kills me that she’ll never forgive me and that she’s right about it?”

“Johnny…”

“Or were ye hoping tae hear that I dinnae even regret Las Almas? It’s ruined everything, but I’ve loved you since I broke my fingers on that stupid bloody mask and I didnae even realise until we nearly fucking died! Ignored it even when I did, had 9 years tae think about how either way I was breaking my own heart because it decided it loved two different people!”

Fuck. He was crying. Johnny was crying. And Simon was caught between wanting to kiss him or kill him. He had never expected to be loved back was the thing. He did something unbearably selfish on the understanding it was all one sided, that the fuck was just the adrenaline from thinking they were going to die and they’d forget it ever happened. And then everything had went to shit and he had fallen in love with Johnny’s widow. He’d already lost one person he loved because he was too scared to admit it, he just couldn’t do it again,  selfish asshole that he was. 

“You should regret it. You… we hurt her. Hurt her so bad that we might lose her.”

“Aye. I deserve tae lose her though, never deserved tae have her in the first place anyway. I just caught you in the crossfire of my sins.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Simon said with full derision.

This has gone on long enough. So what? Everyone was just supposed to be miserable forever? They were supposed to just lay down and take it? Johnny looked at him, hurt and confused. 

“I watched you fight every break up. You fought tooth and fucking nail to make it work. When you fucked up you made it up to her. When she fucked up you forgave her. And what? Now that Johnny is dead? Either you still love her and are willing to fight to get her back, or any part of the man I loved died in Russia.”

“You’ve lost yer fucking mind Si, she’s your wife!”

Simon stood, determined.

“And our wife needs to remember who she belongs to and who belongs to her.”

As he started marching off Johnny near choked and scrambled to follow.

“Ye cannae be serious! Leave her be Si! Ye cannae just barge in and-and-”

“And tell her she’ll try forgive us because we’ll spend the rest of our lives making it up to her? That we can start right now by showing her how well you can follow orders and how well I can give them for her benefit? I bloody well can and I’m bloody well going to. Either you’re with me or you can stay and mope.”

“...aye sir.”

–

Once upon a time Joey being at a sleepover was exciting, it meant some much needed alone time with your husband. Now though? The house felt cold, empty. You considered asking Gaz and Price’s partner if they’d come round to hang out, but it felt so messy when they were just as much Simon’s friend as they were yours. It would somehow make you miss him more. 

Everytime he was at the house briefly and you made polite conversation you wanted to cry. You had a few times, only after he was gone of course. That big fucking lummox. You wanted to strangle him, but then again that wasn’t exactly new. And you wanted rhubarb and sugar. Oh you could murder some rhubarb dipped in sugar like your parents used to give you as a kid. 

The door went just as you finished pouring a large glass of wine. Simon stood looking like he sometimes did when you were about to get absolutely ruined in bed and you swore your heart nearly stopped. Johnny was by his side, pupils blown with a blush crawling up his neck as if he somehow knew exactly what images just popped into your mind. Oh. Oh you suddenly wanted them so badly it hurt. 

And damn them for knowing you so well, for being able to fucking tell. Simon’s lips were on yours as he walked into the house, you being led backwards. You were clawing at his shirt as he squeezed your ass until you bumped into the kitchen island and realised how insane this was, pulling away to try find Johnny. He had followed, was swallowing thickly as Simon started to kiss and nip a path down your neck. This was insane. This was certifiably mental. You could not… have a threesome? Have a threesome with your husband and your husband who had fucked each other ten years ago on a mission before one faked his damn death. 

“W-what are you doing? We can’t…” you mumbled, trying to get your head on straight since currently your brain seemed to reside between your legs.

“Tell me what you need princess. Want me on my knees begging against your pussy? Want Johnny to fly you to Hawaii and keep you in the lap of luxury for a month? Want us to be here every single day in the garden announcing to the neighbours that we deserve a fucking whipping for how badly we fucked everything up with the gorgeous mother of our child?”

Christ almighty. So much for Simon being the unemotional and ineloquent one. You couldn’t handle this. You couldn’t handle how much you wanted to just give in. He made it sound so easy, like you could have them both, like they would give you whatever you wanted just to stay by your side despite what they’d done. He was going to his knees in front of you.

“Rhubarb!”

The room froze for a moment as Simon hit the ground with his knees and just stared at you.

“...is that, uh, a safeword?” Johnny asked, seemingly surprised out of the slack jawed, dazed state he seemed to have been in. 

“No. I mean I… rhubarb. You asked what I needed. Rhubarb and sugar, but we have sugar in the cupboard so… just the rhubarb.”

“...ok, rhubarb. We can do rhubarb” Simon said after a moment, taking it in his stride as he snuck a peck to your stomach where his head currently was and then stood. 

If they just left and went to the shops maybe you could… you didn’t know. Maybe you could hurriedly touch yourself to get rid of the ache between your legs and then neck your wine to get rid of the one in your chest. Simon turned and nodded to Johnny and took a few steps, so you picked up the glass of wine to calm yourself down only for Johnny to pluck it out of your hands.

“Unless you’ve suddenly developed a taste for red wine I’d appreciate that back” you snapped at him.

“And since you’ve suddenly developed a taste for rhubarb I’m naw giving it tae ye.”

“MacTavish” Simon scolded, sure Johnny was about to ruin what he was hoping was some reconciliation here.

“That’s not…” you started before you went pale. 

“How ye been feeling recently hen?”

Oh no. Not now. You just assumed you felt sick because of the stress. But then the take away food had seemed so off despite you usually loving it. You kept having to throw up. You were lethargic. And now you needed rhubarb and sugar, something you had only craved twice in your adult life, the most recent being over a decade ago. The last time you were pregnant. 

“What’s going on?” Simon asked, not liking at all how your face just fell as he strode back to you. “What did you do Johnny? It’s ok sweetheart, I’m sorry we just showed up, seemed like a good idea at the time. Just missed you so much.”

The universe had a sick sense of humour. Over a year of trying for a baby with this man. 18 fucking months. And you get pregnant right before your other husband comes back from the dead, the one it turns out your current husband has slept with behind your back? This could not be happening, but all the signs were there. When had you last had a period? You hadn’t even noticed that you were late with everything going on. 

You tried to do the maths in your head. It had been a few months since Johnny had come back, so you were at the very least that far along. 8 weeks. You had miscarried at 10. Maybe you were further along, maybe you were past the worst of the danger. God you prayed you were past the worst of the danger. 

“Si, gie her some room would ye? We’re right here, if ye want us tae be. It’s up to you, you dinnae have tae…” Johnny said, struggling to get out the words.

There was no thought in your mind that you would get rid of this baby, but the fact that he was putting that option out there when he himself had always been so desperate for a big family was something you appreciated more than you could say. Goddamnit, he still loved you. 9 years away and he still bloody loved you. Would still do whatever it took for you to be happy. Even if in that case this meant not having another baby.

How strange that you thought of this baby as his. How strange that you just as strongly thought of it as Simon’s. If the past few months had shown you anything it was that you could look after a child between the three of you, so it wasn’t like they had to be with you to do it. Even if you’d like them to be. Despite it all, you’d really fucking like them to be.

“Princess?”

You took a deep breath and smiled softly at Simon who was looking increasingly alarmed. You caressed his face and it felt like relief to touch him. 

“Maybe we can go a trip to the doctor on the way for the rhubarb Casper. Think we might be pregnant.”

–

A very healthy baby girl with an incredibly healthy set of lungs. You sang to her, love like A Red, Red Rose for your little Rose. You bawled your eyes out when Joey refused to turn down his hearing aids even when she was screaming at the top of her lungs because that was his baby sister and he would never not want to hear her. It was a good thing you could all sign with the way she drowned you all out, even Johnny as clumsy as his hands were with it had dedicated himself to learning since he had got home. 

You were fairly certain your little Rose was making Price broody with Gaz and their partner finding their grumpy old man losing his mind over a chubby baby adorable. Although there was a good chance Price wasn’t making any babies with how you had planted your foot in his groin when he finally came out of hiding. 

You were still figuring things out, but right now? Right now you were happy. You had two perfect children by two imperfect husbands. It was up in the air what your family was going to look like in the future. Did you want to forgive them? Even if you did, would you be friends and co-parents or something more?

That you hadn’t quite decided yet. But you were determined that whatever the future held for you, it was going to be a future full of love and laughter.

[pantheresssy]

Spending Nights (Abby Anderson/ Reader)

Hello!

This is part 2 of ‘casual’! You can find part 1 in this masterlist! It took me so much time to write this but i did it, im rlly sorry, studying is making my creativity go away. Enjoy!!!

Synopsis: Your friendship with Ellie becomes stronger as you both get to know each other better. From the other side, Abby wasn’t dealing with this too well.

warnings: marijuana use (els), non graphic smut, too much abby and not much of els, angst angst, getting into toxic!abby.

“It smells like shit,”

Blowing the smoke on the air and, for consequence on your face, Ellie looked at you with a smirk. Her eyes were blurred and couldn’t stay in the same place for too long, in a trance with the sensations of marijuana. “But it makes me so fu-cki-ng good. Try.”

You pushed her hand away from your face and twisted your nose, feeling that the smell would make you sick and stick to your hair and clothes. You were in her dorms, with the notebook where she writes her songs open on your lap. Somewhere in the middle of your reading, you discovered a few more things she wrote. Small poetry’s. Most of them were sad, about unrequited loves, death, sadness of abandonment and the loss of a parental love. They were tragically tragic, but still beautiful.

Ellie looked over your shoulder, following your reading. Smiling when you turned your page to see the sweetest song you had ever come close to. She was a real talent, just like you had imagined when you first meet her. “I’ll write one for you.”

“If it’s as good as this one, I’ll say please.” She made a face and leaned back on her seat, taking the marijuana into her mouth.

Ellie blowed and talked at the same time. “This is the worst I’ve written since I started.”

You dismissed her words, outraged by what she had said. When you told her it was the ‘best one she had so far’ she looked a bit offended and gave you a full list of why it was her worst composition. Ellie explained to you all of her creative work and, by the end, you thought you knew more about songs than about your own classes. It was interesting seeing how her eyes shone and her voice became more happy. You could see that she really loved doing what she did.

When you went back to your doorms, not long after, you did with a smile. She really was a great friend, person, and writer. It was curious for you how she gad opened up about what she liked so quickly after knowing you for barely a whole week. But it was good.

The rest of your day, you enjoyed with one of your many books. Laying in bed with it on your chest, being dragged by the words. That’s why, when a knock sounded on your door, you opened it without checking who it was. Thinking it could be Dina — (or Ellie) — you never looked away from the page you were reading, only finding out who truly was when she spoke for the first time.

“Can we talk?” Abby said. At that moment, you regretted not asking who it was first. It’s been days since you last saw her, and you would be laying to yourself if you say that this wasn’t broking your heart even more, but you tried to ignore.

Holding your breath, you swallowed hard before answering: “No. I… I’m not in the mood for talking right now.” Deep down you wanted it, so when you kept talking, you wanted to slap yourself. “Maybe later.”

Abby stepped closer when you make a move to close the door, quickly trying to stop you. And it worked. “I saw you at the party.” There it comes. “Who is she?”

You raised an eyebrow. She had no right to be there questioning you, as if she deserved something. “I’m surprised you went, you never liked those things.” A small pause, “But I guess I should’ve had imagined, you have changed so much in a short time.”

She bit the inside of her cheek and you knew she was looking for what to say next. “Owen invited me”, And oh… oh.

Of course he did. You felt silly, a completely idiot. She never went with you when you asked, always making sure you knew how much she hated going to these things. But with him, that part never really mattered. “I’m glad he managed to change your mind.”

“He didn’t,” She said quickly. “I hated going there. You know this, Y/n. I… I hated even more when I saw you with her.”

An ironic laugh escaped you and you looked at the ground already feeling the tears filling your waterline, obstructing your vision. Abby was the proudest person you had ever seen and, when she said that, you realized that she was there not because she missed you, or because she wanted to apologize for everything she did, but for some jealousy of seeing you with someone other than her. You had to mourn her for the time she thought it was necessary, waiting until she wanted to come and talk to you correctly. Like at that moment.

It was a cycle that she had created and you couldn’t leave. On other occasions the same had happened, but not like that, with a fight so big as that one. You two have never been more than a few hours without talking to each other, and it’s been a long time.

You started poking your thumb, an attempt to keep everything you felt inside you through the soft pain. “You don’t own me any explanations.”

Abby denied. “I do, yes.“

“Look…” You started, letting transpire in your voice and face how tired you were of going around so many times, only to ended up in the same place. “We had the same conversation that day, you said what you wanted to say, what you felt-“

She interrupted you. “I didn’t.”

“So i am asking you to leave.”

As the last word came out of your mouth, you saw her posture fall. She looked sad, worried and younger, totally vulnerable and open for you. And you hated that you felt yourself softening. “Abby,”

She reached out for you and took your hand. You felt the urge to pull off her grip, but gave up in the last second. “Give me one chance.”

Swallowing, you watched as her fingers went to the inner part of your pulse, and you squeezed your eyebrows together. She was close, so close and God, it was good to feel her there. Your walls and anger were down as soon as she stepped even further after seeing your reaction, her lips touching yours.

And you did no move to push her.

Abby was fully inside of your room and closed the door with her feet while her hands gripped your wrist. You joined your lips more to hers, sighing heavily when you realized that you would not be able to let her out, even if you fought with all your strength against your will. Your arms wrapped around her neck and you two walked blindly to your bed, you sitting on the end while she was still standing in front of you, her back bent the kiss wouldn’t end. And you moaned, a sound that came from the back of your throat that seemed so desperate, wanting. But Abby smiled in enjoyment — (and proud).

Your shirt quickly came out of your body, then the rest of your clothes. She pulled you to the middle of the bed and started to kiss, lick and grope each part of you she could reach. Your noises only got louder, this time being followed by hers. And when her fingers went inside you, touching that spongy place that made you see stars, you felt your body shake with goosebumps. You couldn’t deny it anymore, you loved her and loved the way she made you feel.

You were lost on the fog of your orgasm, your mouth was open, trying to catch air for your lungs. She fell at your side on the bed, one of her arms supporting her head while the other supported yours. With the corner of your eye, you could see the smile she held and turned for her, placing your hand on her chest. You could regret it later, being so close to her, so open, letting yourself go so easily. But at that moment, you couldn’t think of anything else but being with her like that for the rest of your days. That’s why, when the words came out of your mouth, you didn’t stop them.

“I missed you,”

She hummed, taking your chin and pulling you into a light kiss. “Me too.” She said. “It was a torture, being away from you and seeing you with… Ellis… Ellie?”

You licked your lips, feeling her taste. “Ellie. Dina introduced us at that party. She’s great. She showed me the songs she writes today.”

Abby’s face fell into something darker, heavier. Jealousy shone back on her and you sank your nails on her skin, trying to pull her back. You knew that if you allowed it, that moment would turn into a discussion just like the other day or worse. She was territorialist and you hated it, especially after having fought with you because of your jealousy and insecurities. “I don’t like her.”

“Do you like anyone?” You asked, fun shining in your eyes and voice.

She kissed you one, two, three times. “You.” With her statement, you smiled big. Abby stroked your cheek, whispering her next words: “Just… can you stay away from her? For me, please.”

Just like that, your expression twisted in a grimace. “That’s why you’re here? To fuck me and try to say with who you want me to hangout with?” You got up and started to put your clothes back on. “Get out, Anderson.”

She faced you. “She clearly wants you, Y/n.” You laughed indignantly. “I won’t let her fuck with you.”

“Like you did that day? She won’t do it, Abby. And you know why? Because Ellie doesn’t hide what she feel, she doesn’t yell and curse when a problem pops up.” Your chest gasped with your words said in one breath. “Leave, now. You’ve stayed too much already.”

You pointed to the door, lowering your head and listening to her wear her clothes. Abby walked up to you and stopped in front of you. “I fucking tried to do this better. You can’t blame me now.”

How much you hated that situation, to be dragged by those words. The pain you felt before was nothing compared to the one you felt at that moment. “That’s all that matters to you, isn’t it? Making me feel bad so you can go over me?”

“I fucking like you, Y/n! That’s why I don’t want you with her.” Her finger wrapped around a lock of your hair and gave a slight pull.

You walked away and rubbed your hands on your face. “And you show it by trying to put someone I like as a friend away? Just go, Abby.”

“I ain’t giving up on you.”

She left with one last look and you closed the door as soon as she passed through the threshold, sniffling when the tears fell and your body was shaken with strong hiccups. You felt nothing but stupid. You knew that at some point everything would go down, but you didn’t knew it would be so quick, — not after everything.

You really thought that things would settled down, after just a few minutes and a moment with her at the bed. You thought you would go back to spending nights with her, smiling and kissing. Abby could make a fool out of you so easily. Sometimes you think you might hate her.

And this is the end!

I really wish I could write more than 2k but at some point I just start to repeat words/expressions and I have a tick with this. Hope you had enjoyed this ride and be patient with me for part 3 plss it will come out! Thank you for all of your comments!! As always, I’m sorry for any mistake.

taglist: @pinkpanther-44, @elsmissingfingers, @sofi4v13, @bready101, @mattxxamryli.

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Crooked Halo (Castiel)

Summary: you've been hunting Castiel for quite some time now. But when the opportunity arises, will you take it?

Warnings: Angst?

WC: 960ish

Read on Ao3!

--

The soft hum of the wind filled the night, sweeping through the abandoned streets, but it was the quiet footsteps behind her that sent a chill down her spine. She had been waiting for him—waiting for Castiel.

It had taken years to track him down, but she was finally here, ready to finish what she’d started long ago. As an angel hunter, it was her duty to find the ones who had strayed, the ones who had fallen, whether they realized it or not. Castiel had been her greatest challenge, but she was prepared.

Prepared for the end.

She stepped into the shadows of the alleyway, the cold metal of her angel blade pressed against her palm, her fingers gripping it like it was the only thing grounding her. She had heard stories about Castiel—the angel who had once saved the world, the angel who had rebelled against Heaven for the sake of humanity. The stories painted him as a hero, but she wasn’t so easily fooled.

She knew the truth.

“You’re not as hard to find as you think, Castiel,” she said, her voice cold and sharp as she felt his presence behind her.

His deep voice responded, calm as always. “I know why you’re here.”

She turned slowly to face him, her eyes locking onto his. Castiel stood there, his trench coat billowing slightly in the breeze, his blue eyes piercing as ever, but there was a weariness in his gaze. He looked tired, worn down by the weight of millennia.

“I doubt that,” she said, stepping closer. “Because if you knew, you would’ve run farther.”

Castiel didn’t flinch, didn’t move. “I don’t run anymore.”

Her lips twisted into a bitter smile. “That much is clear.”

There was silence between them, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down. She could feel the tension in the air, the way it crackled with the energy of an inevitable confrontation. But there was something else—something in his eyes that wasn’t quite what she expected.

Sympathy. Regret.

“You think I’m like the others,” Castiel said quietly, his voice carrying a sadness that surprised her. “But you don’t understand.”

She raised an eyebrow, her grip tightening on the blade. “Oh, I understand perfectly. You may have been a hero once, but your halo became crooked eons ago.”

The words hung in the air like a challenge, and Castiel’s expression flickered. For a moment, just a moment, she saw the faintest shadow of pain cross his face.

“You think I’ve fallen,” he said softly, almost like it was a question. “You think I’ve strayed too far.”

“You have,” she shot back, her voice hard. “You’ve played both sides, broken Heaven’s laws, rebelled against your own kind. You’ve saved the very humans that were supposed to be beneath you. You may not have turned into a monster like the others, but you’re not innocent, Castiel.”

His eyes softened, and for the first time, he stepped toward her. She stiffened, blade ready, but he didn’t make any move to attack.

“You’re right,” Castiel said, his voice heavy with the weight of everything he had done. “I’m not innocent. I’ve made mistakes, more than I can count. I’ve killed, betrayed, and defied Heaven itself. But I did it for them. For humanity.”

She scoffed, her heart hardening. “You’re just like the rest of them, trying to justify the blood on your hands.”

Castiel’s gaze never wavered. “Maybe. But the blood I’ve shed… it wasn’t for power. It wasn’t for some divine plan. It was to protect the people I care about.”

Her chest tightened at his words, but she forced the emotion back, hiding it behind the mask she’d worn for years. She wasn’t here to listen to his excuses. She was here to end him.

“I don’t care about your reasons,” she hissed, stepping closer until the blade was inches from his chest. “You’ve fallen. You don’t get to choose how your story ends.”

For a moment, Castiel looked at her like he saw something deeper, something beneath her rage. His voice was quiet, almost gentle. “I see the hurt in you. I know what it’s like… to feel like you’re alone. But I’m not your enemy.”

She froze, the blade trembling in her grip. He was supposed to be the enemy, the fallen angel she had been trained to hunt. But why did his words feel like they were cutting deeper than any blade ever could?

“Don’t,” she whispered, her resolve crumbling for just a second. “Don’t act like you know me.”

Castiel’s eyes never left hers, and there was no judgment, only understanding. “I do know you. Because I was like you once. And I know the pain of realizing you’ve been fighting the wrong war.”

Her heart thudded in her chest, her mind racing as his words hit home. She had been hunting angels her entire life, driven by a hatred she barely understood anymore. But standing here, face-to-face with Castiel, she felt something shift.

Maybe he wasn’t the monster she’d made him out to be.

Maybe… she’d been wrong.

The silence stretched, and for the first time, she hesitated.

“I don’t want to fight you,” Castiel said softly, his voice full of quiet sincerity. “But if you’re going to kill me, I won’t stop you.”

Her breath caught in her throat. She could end this right now. One strike, and it would all be over. But her hand wouldn’t move. She looked into his eyes and saw the truth she’d been avoiding all along.

She couldn’t do it.

With a shaky breath, she lowered the blade, the weight of her decision pressing down on her.

“You’re not what I thought you were,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper.

Castiel gave her a small, sad smile. “I never was.”

[ebullientheart]

dogs. aaron hotchner x reader

content — dogs🤍. fluff. humour. fem!bau!reader. brief mention of case. one swear. sorta sunshine!reader.

5 times you try to convince hotch to get a dog with you +1 time it works.

1. the scent dogs

a frazzled officer had handed you the leads of two sniffer dogs, running away on the insistence his captain was going to ‘kill me for letting them piss on his van again’. you had snorted sympathetically, meaning to tell him you’d love to help out but your unit chief would be expecting you; he was already running away.

you laughed and accepted your fate, wrapping the leads tightly around your knuckles and sitting cross-legged with them. they were eager for your affection and silly voices, even though they were squashing you in their best attempt at hugging. two large german shepherds, but probably the friendliest police dogs you’d ever seen.

“how do these things always happen to you, agent?”

hotch saw the way your shoulders stiffened, and regretted scaring you. the dogs seemed to pick up on this too, turning to the man with low growls at his interruption. you stifled your mirth at their reaction and twisted on the spot to look up at your slightly formidable, but currently intimidated by the dogs, boss.

you chanced a shrug, careful not to dislodge the canine leaning on your shoulder, “one of many mysteries, sir. wanna say hi?”

the look he gave you then was priceless; it was pure disgust. but at your giddy grin, he did crack the smallest of smiles on the hard stone of his face.

i wish i could make him smile all the time. no, shut up.

your mind was not on your side as you tried not to flush, instead burying yourself in between the dogs and letting them yip happily at the attention.

“don’t you just want one of them forever? or maybe both. look how cute they are!” you put your face between theirs.

hotch risked a muffled laugh and extended a hand, wondering how you were an adult. instead of putting your palm in his own, though you were severely tempted, you handed him the leads for the dogs.

“careful, there’s an angry captain on the prowl with a piss stained van. okay paperwork, bye!”

like the officer before you, you were gone before he could open his mouth to reprimand you. not that he was planning on reprimanding you. he was planning on asking if you wanted to get a drink post-case, but for now he had two other problems in the form of two disgruntled german shepherds.

2. the stray

the neighbourhood you were canvassing was not exactly upmarket. it had a high concentration of crime and poverty, and with that, plenty of malnourished animals that likely carried many diseases. no matter how much you loved them, and you did still love them, you were not planning to kneel down with them and touch. you weren’t carrying hand sanitizer.

“the unsub should be familiar to almost all of these people, he’s prominent in this community, so if- erm, shoo?”

seeing hotch startle back and weakly attempt to ‘shoo’ a stray dog was probably the highlight of your day. she was a small thing, possibly some kind of terrier, but too underfed to tell for sure. she sniffed at his ankles as though he’d have any food kept there, but besides that, made no threatening move. you took pity, unwrapping the sandwich you’d got from the hotel cafeteria to eat for lunch, and ripped it up into pieces to make it easier for her to chew. she wolfed it down and skittered off.

hotch frowned, “why would you give your lunch away?”

“she clearly needed it more than me. i hate people who abandon their pets….” you lamented, watching the assortment of strays on the outskirts of each alley. the dogs formed small packs, while the cats hunted alone, equipped with the ability to catch birds and mice.

the two of you kept walking, knocking on doors, when the idea struck you on the way back to the local precinct. you were only teasing, lacking even an ounce of sincerity.

“you should adopt one! i’m sure jack would be thrilled, and i don’t mind holding it on the plane home.”

he just deadpanned you and walked away at a pace you struggled to catch up with. eventually, he took pity as you had on the dog, and slowed down for you to fall in step next to him once more.

3. movie night

it had taken him quite a while, but hotch did eventually ask you out for that post-case drink, which turned into a few dinners, which turned into regular dates, until the two of you had a designated saturday night. this time, you were at his apartment watching a film he’d picked out from his limited stack of dvd’s.

“oh my god!”

hotch had left you alone for two minutes to get you a glass of water.

he raced back into the room, causing his hair to become disarrayed for probably the first time in his life, only to see you pausing the movie to point out… a dog.

he huffed, “are you kidding? my knees can’t cope with that, woman.”

you laughed, beckoning him over, “i didn’t mean to scare you, but look how cute he is.”

“i can see just fine from here.”

“suit yourself.”

but he caved, and crossed the distance between you. not to stare enthusiastically at the dog, but to kiss you on the cheek and press play on the remote while you were distracted by his affection.

you hummed, “i think i’m gonna get a dog.”

he raised a brow, “it’s never moving in here.”

now both completely ignoring the film playing behind his back, you smiled, “and i am?”

at the risk of sounding too forward and scaring you off, despite you being one of the most intense people he knew (and he knew garcia), hotch merely offered you a shrug and another quick peck before returning to the kitchen. you could hardly contain the glee on your face as you burrowed into the cushion you were clutching and tried not to let your thoughts get ahead of themselves.

4. jack’s plea

“i made a mistake.” hotch murmured to himself, watching you and jack bond.

as he once predicted, you were going to be the death of him. albeit a happy, glittery death.

your activity of choice to bond with the child you’d only officially met once so far, was to take him to a park. a dog park, where you volunteered in your free time. some people took their dogs there, others dropped them off with a volunteer for the workday. jack was jovially bonding with your daily pups, a young golden retriever, and an elderly pomeranian.

he tried to stack them, but you quickly intervened.

“mistake? the only mistake was not letting me get matching boots for him and the dogs.”

hotch just looked at you blankly, lacking the heat of a glare, but clearly unamused with your antics. externally, at least, because on the inside he was definitely smiling fondly at you. you took that from his eyes.

jack, at that moment, rushed to you with the enthusiastic dogs on his heels. you didn’t miss the fact hotch didn’t flinch as they jumped at him, whereas a few months ago he definitely would of. you decided that was progress, kissed him on the cheek, and knelt down to speak to jack.

he whispered conspiratorially, though loud enough for his father to hear, “i want to take one home.”

hotch pinched the bridge of his nose, while you looked between the two gleeful you, “well, little man, these lovely guys belong to some other lovely people who would miss them very much.”

you weren’t going to promise him on of his own. it wasn’t your place, and you were not in the business of making empty promises; you’d all but accepted that aaron’s reluctance translated to ‘never gonna happen’. it was just fun to tease.

jack nodded, “that’s true. i like the big ones, anyway.”

that was not what his dad wanted to hear, but you were elated.

“finally,” you laughed, entwining your arms behind aaron’s neck when jack went back to play, “a hotchner after my own heart.”

he only laughed back, spinning you around so you both had eyes on the adventurous kid, and keeping his arm firmly around your waist. eventually, he responded, “we work too much for a dog.”

the fact he’d even got that far in thinking about it? you considered it a win.

5. clooney

morgan didn’t ask the team for favours all that often, but occasionally he asked one of you to dogsit, if he knew nobody else could check in, feed, walk, and so on. reid never took that bait.

one extended, long weekend, on which he planned to travel to a nice resort on his time off, he handed responsibility to you. at first, you’d been delighted, but not even a day into bonding with your new pal, you’d fallen with the flu. fallen being an accurate term for your dramatics. luckily for you, you’d recently moved in with aaron.

luckily for him too, because you made much better pancakes than he did.

so while you were ill and uncharacteristically miserable, he was playing tug of war with the dog, and cursing himself for thoroughly enjoying it. jack rolled around laughing, and he was struggling to fend off the invasive thoughts that were result of your persistence. he had once promised to dedicating the parts of his life that weren’t reserved for profiling to making you happy, and while that was usually an easy task, a dog would…

but he cut the thoughts off when clooney peed on his kitchen floor.

yeah, fuck no.

later on in the day, he ventured into your shared room to check on you. pitifully, you curled into his side of the bed and offered a morose sniff in reply to his gentle greeting.

“how’re you feeling, honey?”

you sighed, unfolding the covers from where they were tucked into your chin, “you know how you felt when jack accidentally hit you in the skull with his metal lunchbox? worse.”

despite your detailed description, aaron took your verbose approach to his question as a sign you were on the mend. he brought you another glass of water, and let jack give you a get well soon card, while holding your breath to risk contaminating him. on the front, a rough sketch of clooney, holding a flower.

“this is the best card i’ve ever seen, jack.” you assured him, propping it on your nightstand.

“if we had a dog, i could put him on the card!”

you nodded, “that is true.” aaron rolled his eyes.

he was saved by your chest racking cough, ushering jack out the room to let you rest. jack was happy to run back down to clooney.

aaron gave you ‘the look’; it meant calm down and go to sleep. he gave it to the team a lot.

you had to giggle as he went downstairs to jack’s onslaught of ‘can we get a dog? when?’. you were proud of your little ally as you laid back down.

+1

having to work a case on your birthday was unfortunate but unavoidable. the team bought you a cake, which you really appreciated, and until the strangulations, there was a celebratory air to the unit. on the plane home two days later, spencer even offered to let you win at chess. you flipped him off for that.

in the car, you yawned dramatically. amused, aaron asked, “tired?”

you mumbled back, “jus’ wanna go home and see jack.”

he couldn’t ignore the way his heart tightened at that admission. glancing over to your sleepy face, he didn’t think he’d yet been this in love with you. if he regretted the decision he’d made on a phone call to jessica while in california, he would remember this moment. by the time he pulled into the driveway, you’d long since closed your eyes.

“honey, wake up. we’re home.”

you all but slugged your way to the front door, aaron’s hand between your shoulder blades, urging you onward. he carried both your bags, and tomorrow you’d apologise for not helping. today, you just wanted to check your stepson was tucked in for the night, then crawl into your own bed and collapse.

to your confusion, the tv was still playing. which wouldn’t be strange, jessica did put it on sometimes, but it was playing cartoons. you frowned, off to investigate. if you’d turned and seen aaron’s smile, you would’ve been more confused.

“hey, little man, what are you still doing up?” you opened your arms and he ran to them, while you gave his aunt a quizzical look. she gestured for you to turn around, jack giggling.

behind you, aaron held a gorgeous puppy, looking at you with round, brown eyes, inset in a face of smooth fur. his tail whipped back and forth excitedly as you reached out to hold him. aaron deposited him carefully in your arms, overcome with second hand joy at the expression on your face.

tearfully, from your exhausted state and fear of his answer, you asked, “are you kidding?”

he shook his head, while jack drew your attention again. he wanted to pet the puppy.

you lightly put him to the floor, where he ambled around with little grace, absorbing all the attention you had to offer him. at some point, aaron had to intervene and put jack to bed, but you stayed with the dog for hours on.

almost nervously, aaron asked, “do you like him?”

you gaped at the ridiculous question, “i love him. and i love you.”

there was a quiet moment, where he admired the happiness before him, and you hugged your new friend some more.

“can he sleep in with us, aaron?”

“absolutely not.”

[skulla-rxcks]

we met on the rooftops.

Paring: simon henriksson x fem reader

Rating: explicit

Genre: smut

Warnings: SA, S0mnophilla, s3lf harm & su1cide mention.

You meet Simon right after Sophie’s death and stick together in this horrifying world, later that night his lust takes over and does something that he’ll regret.

“Hey. Are you okay?” I call out, seeing a clearly ‘disturbed individual’. “I..she just..” he struggles to get his words out as he looks down from the rooftop we both are on.

I walk closer to him, taking in his rushed and beaten up appearance. “My friend she just.. jumped.” He mutters, his expression cold, frozen almost. Clearly trying to take in what just happened.

“you mean she just, killed herself? Did she say any reasonings?” I ask. He shakes his head in response; “not really.”

I help him up, holding his hand, beginning to walk down from the roof with him. “do you.. do you see them too? My friend she.. didn’t. I feel like I’m going insane.” His grip on my hand tightens. “You mean the monsters..?” I question, receiving a nod from him. “Yeah, the monsters, whatever the fuck they are.. I thought I was going crazy but thank god you see them too.”

We make our way down and decide to go and rest in an old abandoned apartment, due to the coldness outside getting more chilling by the second.

“when do you think this will end..?” the man murmurs. “I’m not sure. there has to be some way” I sigh, digging through all of the drawers and cabinets trying to find something to snack on, or at least some supplies to keep us going for the meantime.

“I didn’t catch your name by the way.” I say, taking out some instant noodles I found in one of the draws. “simon.” he responds, laying down on the bed.

“I found some noodles can you look around for a kettle?”

“alright” Simon groans as he gets up, Cleary not in the mood for looking around, just wanting to sleep. “found it.” He brings it over to me after filling it up with water. I plug the kettle in and turn on the switch, waiting for the water to boil. Once it does I pour some of the contents into a bowl, placing it next to Simon who is now lying on the bed, having taken off his hoodie to allow himself to relax.

He starts eating his noodles while staring into nothing and I sit back, leaning against the wall behind me. “you said you saw the monsters before.. did you ever try to kill yourself?” He asks once he swallows his food.

I don’t even think about it before responding.

“why does that matter?”

“I’ve only seen like 2 people.. and they, they only see stuff if they’ve tried it seems.. I don’t know.” Simon mumbles, stuffing his mouth with food, he probably hasn’t eaten in weeks.

“well yeah I have.. if that answers your question.” my gaze turns to his wrists, he’s scratching at what seems like self inflicted wounds, I decide not to say anything. “I’m gonna see if the shower works.” He tells me, before heading into the bathroom.

After eating I decide to go to sleep, knowing Simon will join me shortly after.

he finishes washing himself, whimpering slightly as the hot water makes contact with the cuts on his wrists and thighs. he dries himself off and gets changed before coming out of the bathroom. I’m already sound asleep already, so quickly somehow.

he lays down next to me, pulling the sheets over the both of us, he can’t help but stare at my pale thighs on show under my skirt as he moves the blanket slightly. “fuck.” he grunts as he feels a familiar tent in his pants forming, a tent that he hasn’t felt in what feels like forever, it feels like it’s been ages since he’s let alone touched himself, or, touched someone else.

“I shouldn’t.. not now but, fucking hell..” he mutters, gently taking his dick out of his boxers. he begins to stroke himself soft but roughly, watching as his precum leaks out of the tip of his cock. “I’m so sorry. I.. I need to..” he apologises repeatedly and pulls my skirt and panties down in one tug, I’m not aware that any of this is happening. Simon positions himself at my opening and pushes inside of me with one painful thrust.

He lets out a handful of moans as he feels the tightness of my cunt around him. “shit..” Simon starts thrusting hard inside of me, groaning as he gets closer and closer to his release. “need to.. feel all of you..” his hands slide up my shirt and massage my breasts, squeezing them roughly as he fucks me in my sleep.

I squirm slightly in my sleep causing Simon to cuss at himself. “no don’t wake up fuck.. no.. not. now.. not while I’m..”

“S-Simon.. what are you… mmgh!!” my words are cut off as he wraps one of his hands around my neck and squeezes it gently, bring his face into mine and kissing me roughly while continuing to force his cock inside of me. “I’m sorry.. I’m so Fucking sorry..” he repeats, but this time against my lips. “Mmfh.. Simon.. why… why are you.. ahh..” I moan, trying to get my words out but they’re replaced with whimpers as he continues the assault inside of my cunt.

“I’m so, so Sorry...” he says again and again, his breathing uneven and his voice raspy from crying. It takes everything I have left to not let the tears fall and give in to my own pleasure.

“d-dont cry just… ow.. it hurts. Simon s-slow down!!” I beg, trying to get him off me in the kindest way possible, But he doesn’t listen. “shut up! just let me fuck you.. I need this..” he scolds me, his grip on my throat getting tighter and tighter, making me squirm underneath him. “I.. I can’t breathe, SIMON!!” I yell out, ripping off his hand from my neck and gasping for air, but he still fucks me.

“you’re hurting me..”

“just be quiet and let me have this..Please.” he cries, tears dripping down onto my neck. “just let me use you.” I nod, knowing that either way he’s going to continue. His thrusts get faster and rougher, causing me to bleed occasionally every time he hits my cervix. “Ow..”. “S-Stop whining!” he threatens, pounding me harder and harder.

“i.. I..”

“Shut Up and Let ME FUCK YOU!” he yells, tears forming and spilling down his face.

I bite my lip hard enough to draw blood, trying my best not to let out any sounds so he doesn’t make it more painful for me.

Tears also stream down my face uncontrollably, as the pain in my chest intensifies and my vision goes blurry.

I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for it to end, but it never does.

With one final thrust he cums inside of me, filling me with his warm seed. “I’m sorry.. I’m so fucking sorry I.. I didn’t mean to go this far I just..” he pulls out, mumbling his words against my shoulder, he hugs me tightly and keeps apologising to me. “why.. why did you do this to me.”

“it’s been so long since I’ve.. you know. please look at me.. are you mad at me? please don’t go.. im sorry im really sorry..”

“Simon.” I sigh.

[strgrlxox]

dark matter.

ꗃ this is possibly the worst the ive ever written but ik yall see how sexy she looks in that picture im tryna go CRAZYYY ❞¸

+ ¸ ❞ toxic ellie warning yalllll ꗃ

the last time was always the “last time”.

except it never was. you weren’t exactly sure why you kept coming back to her. ellie was like a drug, one you’ve sworn to quit several times but you’re addicted. 

she is intoxicating. 

although the problem is normally different, the routine remains the same. ellie would fuck up and push blame, you would shout and then leave, she would laugh and say something like you’ll be back, you’d curse and deny it saying something like no i mean it this time, then a week later you’d be back.

you could never truly stay away from her. she reminds you of this with the way she kissed you, longing and angry and full of abandon.

“thought you said i’d never see you again, huh?” she says into your mouth, it wasn’t really a kiss…more of her trying to swallow the air that’s in your lungs. 

you kiss her harder, hoping to shut up her endless teasing. ellie pulls back from you, a smirk that you wanna taste tattooed to her lips. 

you can’t help but open your lips so that she could kiss you however she wanted. she knew exactly how you needed her and she was more than eager to provide.

“why do you keep trying to leave me?” she lets her kisses move from your mouth down to your neck. you whimper into her, your body tingling in every place she touches. you can’t help the guilt that sweeps inside you at the pain in her voice, unable to stop yourself from trying to kiss her again…it was your way of showing her your regret.

she pulled back again, the corners of lips lifting at the way your mouth desperately chases hers. driving you past your point of sanity was what she did best after all.

she walks forward, forcing you to move backwards until your body hits a desk. she grabs hold of your hips, encouraging you to jump slightly. you obey her silent command, until you’re sat on the flat surface.

“why can’t you see that you’re always gonna be mine?” she pouts, you barely notice when she drops down to her knees. the look in her eyes was pure, it could fucking kill you how pretty she looks right now.

it made you think about her question, why do you keep leaving even though you know you’ll come back every time?

when she notices your attention shifting she sucks at the skin on your thighs, below where your skirt ends. greedily, wanting to be the center of your fixation. “focus on me, okay?”

you nod, hands tangling in her hair. ellie’s hands tail along your thighs, squeezing them occasionally. 

“i’m forgiving you again this time…” you begin as her lips trail further up, her hands shifting underneath your skirt to pull it above your hips.  “but this is the last time, if you fuck up again i swear i’m gone.”

it’s a lie. you both know it. 

although you would like to believe it was true. ellie kisses your knee––looking up at you, she trails a finger over the wet spot on your underwear.  she smiles against your skin. “let me show my gratitude.”

you’re panting by the time she moves your underwear aside, licking her lips at the sight of you. she kisses up your thigh, her lips leaving a trail of your anticipation behind.

“hurry up, ellie.” you whine and she scoffs. how silly of you to think you had any control here.

“careful.” she chastises. “before i stop being so nice.” it’s more of a warning than it is a threat but with ellie, the two things are synonymous. you can’t help but watch as she disappears in between your thighs, drinking you in like she’s been starved her whole life.

“are you gonna be the good girl i know you are?” even though she knows you’re too out of breath to answer––she cruelly asks, the vibrations making you shudder. you let out one long moan, the only answer that can make its way from your throat.

she huffs into you, pulling back which makes you whine. “when i ask you a question, i expect an answer, pretty girl. you know that.” she’s being harsh but she’s almost pouting as she speaks. and although her words are muffled by the skin of your thigh the room is so quiet that it sounds like it echos. 

“yeah, i’ll be good.” your hands reach in her hair, trying to pull her closer but she just avoids your touch.

“i don’t know if i believe you…”

you sob, desperate to feel her lips on you again. ellie could be so mean. “i’ll be so good, ellie––i promise.”

“i need to feel you, please ellie.” the thought of her leaving you like this––all worked up with an ache only she could rectify––makes tears brim in your eyes.

“that’s right, baby.” she smiles and it gives you whiplash how sweet she looks when she’s being so goddamn mean to you. “you need me. you just need to be reminded of that sometimes…”

you whimper, nodding your head meekly. she places two more kisses on your right leg, hands pulling your legs further apart. you watch as her face softens behind your blurry eyes, she can’t help but melt at the look on your face. “okay, it’s okay. you’re so good for me, look so pretty when you cry.”

she leans down to flatten her tongue against your center, making you sigh in satisfaction. ellie licks at you slow and sloppy, taking her time to savor you until your legs close around her head in the wake of your rapture. she rides it out, only pulling away when you push at her head from sensitivity.

she stands up and licks her lips, getting the last drops of your taste. her hands immediately tangle in your hair, pulling your mouth onto her own. she only breaks away from the kiss when the need for oxygen consumes her. “god, you look so good when you cum…so beautiful and all mine, right?”

you hesitate for only a moment, but it’s enough to make her grab your jaw and make you look at her. her gaze narrows as she awaits your response.

“m’all yours, ellie. always.”

[missy4176]

-Facing Regret-

Kim Dokja x Reader

Kim Dokja's POV

The world is quieter tonight. The stars, faint and sparse, hang in the sky like distant memories, barely visible through the ever-present clouds. It’s a night like any other in this ruined world—cold, unforgiving, and heavy with the weight of what’s been lost. We sit on the rooftop of an abandoned building, the concrete beneath us rough and cold. You’re beside me, close enough that our shoulders touch, but neither of us speaks.

I’ve never been good with words. Not the spoken kind, anyway. Written words are different—they’re distant, safe, something I can hide behind. But here, with you, there’s no hiding. I feel your gaze on me, curious and concerned, and I know that you’ve sensed something amiss. You always do.

“Kim Dokja,” you finally say, your voice gentle but firm. “What’s on your mind?”

I glance at you, the dim light casting soft shadows on your face. You’ve always been able to read me too well, even when I try to keep everything locked away. Maybe it’s because you’ve seen me at my worst—when I’ve been nothing more than a frightened, lonely child trapped in a man’s body, fighting desperately to survive. Or maybe it’s because you’ve been with me through all of this, never once faltering, no matter how much I’ve tried to push you away.

I hesitate, the words caught in my throat. There’s so much I want to say, but where do I even begin? How do I explain the regrets that haunt me, the memories that refuse to fade no matter how hard I try to bury them?

“I... I’ve made mistakes,” I finally admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “So many mistakes.”

You don’t interrupt or try to reassure me right away. You just listen, giving me the space I need to find the words.

“I thought... I thought I could control everything,” I continue, my hands clenching into fists. “I thought that if I just followed the story, if I did everything right, then maybe... maybe things wouldn’t have to end the way they did. But it didn’t matter. People still got hurt. People still died. And now, all I have are these regrets, these ghosts that won’t leave me alone.”

I close my eyes, trying to block out the images that flood my mind. The faces of those I’ve lost, the people I couldn’t save, the times I hesitated when I should have acted. It all weighs on me, a burden that I can never seem to escape.

But then I feel your hand on mine, warm and steady. I open my eyes to find you looking at me, your expression soft but resolute.

“Kim Dokja,” you say, your voice carrying a quiet strength that cuts through the darkness. “You’re not alone in this. You’ve made mistakes, yes, but so have I. So has everyone. But that doesn’t mean you’re defined by them. You’re more than just your regrets.”

I want to believe you. I want to let go of the guilt that’s been gnawing at me for so long. But it’s hard—so damn hard. I’ve spent my entire life thinking that I’m nothing, that I don’t deserve happiness or forgiveness. How can I just... let that go?

You seem to sense my turmoil because you tighten your grip on my hand, anchoring me in the present.

“I know it’s not easy,” you continue, your voice unwavering. “But you’ve come this far, haven’t you? You’ve survived things that would have broken anyone else. And you did it not just because of your knowledge of the story, but because of who you are. You’re stronger than you think, Kim Dokja. And you don’t have to face this alone.”

Your words stir something within me, a fragile hope that I’ve been too afraid to acknowledge. Could it really be that simple? Could I truly move past the mistakes I’ve made and find something resembling peace?

But before I can say anything, you shift the focus back to yourself, as if sensing that I need a moment to process.

“And it’s not just you,” you admit, your voice growing softer. “I have regrets too. Things I wish I could change, moments I wish I could go back to and do differently.”

I look at you, surprised. You’ve always seemed so... composed, so sure of yourself. It’s hard to imagine you struggling with the same doubts and regrets that plague me.

“What kind of regrets?” I ask, my curiosity piqued.

You smile, but there’s a sadness in it that tugs at something deep within me.

“I regret not trusting myself more,” you say quietly. “I regret the times I let fear hold me back, the times I didn’t say what I really felt because I was too afraid of what might happen. And... I regret not being able to save everyone. No matter how hard I tried, there were still people I couldn’t protect.”

Your words resonate with me more than I expected. For so long, I’ve seen you as someone who’s always been there for me, someone who’s always known what to do. But hearing you speak of your own regrets, I realize that you’re just as human as I am, just as flawed and uncertain.

“Then... we’ll face them together,” I say, surprising even myself with the resolve in my voice. “Your regrets, my regrets... we’ll deal with them, one step at a time. And we won’t let them define us.”

You smile again, this time more genuinely, and there’s a warmth in your eyes that makes something in my chest loosen. For the first time in a long while, I feel like maybe—just maybe—I can do this. We can do this.

“Thank you,” you say, your voice filled with quiet gratitude. “For being here with me.”

“No,” I reply, shaking my head. “Thank you... for everything.”

We sit in silence for a while, the weight of our conversation settling over us. But it’s not an uncomfortable silence—if anything, it’s comforting. It’s a reminder that we’re not alone in this world, that we have each other to lean on when the past threatens to drag us down.

As the night stretches on, the cold seeping into our bones, I find myself reaching out to you, pulling you closer. You don’t resist, letting me hold you as if you’re the only thing keeping me grounded in this chaotic world. And maybe you are.

In the end, it’s not the words that bring us comfort, but the simple act of being there for each other. The knowledge that, no matter how heavy our regrets, we don’t have to carry them alone.

And for now, that’s enough.

[outerrimhours]

Brahms Heelshire X Fem!Reader

{Part one} / {Part Two} / {Part Three} / {Masterlist}

Note: I didn't expect this to become more than it is, but here we are. Trying to build up to the smut.

Warnings: Anxiety, fear, abandonment issues, blood, injury, fluff

Song: Romantic Homicide by D4vd

You followed the rules. Day to day, as if nothing had ever changed. Some days harder than others and you wondered how much of the circumstances you had truly processed within your brain. Despite it all, regret was never an option. Even the volatility of Brahm’s emotions couldn’t make you regret staying. 

You were alone. Nothing to go back to, no one missing you, except a boy who was also alone. You wanted to take care of him, allow him the love he so desperately deserved. 

He didn’t talk much, now that he was no longer a ghost in the wall, but his presence was always so loud. Lingering, watching. When you cooked, he lingered in the doorway, so observant and curious but too afraid to cross the threshold. But you always felt him, the chill, the goosebumps that rose on your skin. 

“Are you hungry,”, you would ask, only to receive a nod in return, hands behind his back as he walked over to sit at the head of the dining table. 

Brahms always made sure to brush his fingers against you when you sat the plate in front of him. And it never stopped eliciting the same response. Atomic particles floating in the air, lingering between the space between fingertips. It made your breath hitch every time.

When you played piano for him, he sat far away on the couch. He didn’t like the sun, it was too much, too bright, too warm. But he loved the way it cascaded over you. Dust floating in the space between you and the window, skin tanned and warm in its glow. He would let his eyes linger a little too long over the dip in your throat, the way your lips parted in focus. 

After hours of lingering eyes and non accidental touches, before dinner you would sit on the couch and read to him, and as if he had spent the entire day forming some intrepidity, he would lay down on the couch and allow his head to rest in your lap. His eyes never left your face for a second, afraid if he looked away you would disappear. 

Even as you read, your fingers threaded through freshly washed hair, so soft and curled at the ends. You pretended to not notice him, speaking every word of the book so deliberately. Brahms listened intently, but not to the story, to the way you spoke every word, eyes always so focused on your lips. You wished the mask didn’t cover his face, so desperate to trace your fingers over the bridge of his nose, thumb brushing over the skin of his cheek. 

You wanted to believe the day would be easy. It had been easy, too easy, enough to set you on edge. Turn of emotions for Brahms was like a match to a flame, instant and intense. 

You were cooking dinner when he crept behind you, body pressed against your back. He towered over you, having to lean down to press his unmasked lips against your shoulder. It was bold of him and you could tell by his heavy breathing that it made him apprehensive. You could feel the exposed chest hair, soft against the skin of your back with every rise and fall of his breaths. 

You had to tell him.

Brahms stretched out his arms, sleeves of his cardigan on both sides of your body as he placed his hands against the countertop. 

“I’m busy”, you mused, pretending as if you were bothered by his sudden need for contact. Truely, you wanted more of it, but you needed to tell him you had to leave to get groceries, uncharted territory that you were afraid to touch.

“We need to talk about something”, you added, quietly, turning in his arms to face him. 

He instantly pulled his mask back into place before arms returned to trap you against the counter. 

“We need groceries, Brahms, that means I have to leave to go get them.”

From the way his eyes squinted, you could tell his brows were furrowed. A flash of panic before enmity took its place. His brain switched gears, always emerging at the sense of a threat, a way to protect himself. Softer eyes taking a backseat, the flip of his emotions almost gave you whiplash. You could feel it suffocate the air and suddenly he was way too close. 

You shut your eyes, dizzy with the inability to catch your breath when his jaw tensed, eyes staring down at you with an almost hatred. As if to say, “I knew you would leave, just like everyone else”. 

“No”, he cried out, strangled as if suddenly he would cry.

“I will come back Brahms, I promise”. 

He was so clearly afraid, rage masking his vulnerability. 

“You’re..not leaving. I won’t allow it.” 

Brahms knuckles turned painfully white, gripping the edged surface on each side of you.

“Stop it”, you scolded, heart aching at his fear, but frustrated at the tantrum. 

His eyes looked everywhere but at you, reaching with long, piano like fingers for the empty glass of water that had sat next to the stove. 

You were too afraid to reach out and comfort him. 

“What if I went tonight, while you were sleeping?  I would be back before you realized.” 

You gasped at the sound of glass breaking, moving away within his grasp to comprehend what had happened. 

Shards fell off the edge, blood dripping through Brahm’s fingers and onto the contrast of the marbled floor. He swayed, staggering back slightly at the sight. Your mouth open with disbelief. 

“What did you do”, you yelled, startling him as he backed away more.

“Brahms”.

He wouldn’t allow you any further, every step forward from you was a step backwards for him, as if you had been the one to do it. 

“Let me help you”, you cried. 

Everything was too loud for Brahms. The kitchen light too bright, your worried face overwhelming. He didn’t want to look at you. He hated you in that moment. The throbbing pain in his hand, sticky, syrup like fluid running down his arm. It was all too much. So he retreated.

Retreated back to the only place that felt safe; the walls. His room. 

You sunk to the floor next to the glass, blood already oxidizing into its brown leftovers. 

You allowed yourself to cry. 

~

 You only knew he was okay by the occasional sounds of his roaming that night. Dinner untouched and cold. You turned down the quilt of his bed, leaving the lamp on in case of his arrival. You knew he wasn’t coming though. Your heart ached at the thought of his hand, worried like a mother. 

 You noticed the book you had been reading was missing from the nightstand and you pictured him in his small bed behind the wall, curled up with all of the blankets and pillows you had allowed him to steal, teddy bear slipped under one arm while he read in the low light. He would be restless, surely, accustomed to falling asleep in your arms. You hated to admit you would also be restless without him.

[imagineanime2022]

Tohru's Cousin

Shigure Sohma X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3821

Requested: @twilightlover2007

Requested: Ok, I've been ITCHING to see this. Your writing for fb is FANTASTIC! I would love to have Tohru meet her cousin on her mom's side, her cousin locates her and they set up a meeting.

I'd love to see headcannons of her meeting a few of the Sohma's. While some, Kyo, might be worried she's more like her mother's wild side she's actually quite a bookworm. I'd love for her to end up with Haru or Shigure whichever you think would be best! Please and thank you!!!

Warning: Parent death, no mention of a father, reader is injured, this is long!!

How The Boys View Tohru's Cousin

You sat at your desk looking at the letter that your mother had left you, she had said that there were things that she had never found the right time to tell you, though she figured that you should know. Things about your family and the reason that she very rarely spoke about them. Part of you wondered if you should just leave it be but the only person that you had was your mother, you had never been an outgoing person and when your mother got sick it was an excuse to stay in the house and deal with as few people as possible. That would get lonely now though with literally no one in the house. Even if you didn’t talk, having your mother there made up for it.

Finally you leaned forward taking the letter in your hands you took a deep breath and opened it, you smiled at the familiar handwriting of your mother’s:

My Dear (Y/N)

I know that I should have told you this in person when we were both there to make amends but I’m too much of a coward to approach this subject head on. The sicker I get the more I realise that you will be alone by the time you read this, I can’t leave you like that, not when I know that you still have family out there, a cousin. Younger than you and an aunt out there hopefully, with any hope they will be willing to give you the family that you need now.

When I was younger, I didn’t realise how much she needed help, your aunt was the leader of a gang back then and to me it was pointless and dangerous and for the most part did only bring trouble to us all, that was what prompted me to cut ties with her but as I got older I knew that I had just abandoned her and left her to whatever fate befell her.

Then she sent me a letter asking me to meet with her and a picture of a small girl, her name was Tohru Honda, that was what she had told me. When that letter came through it reminded me of the fact that I had walked away and still she wanted to make it better, she is a better person than I am, that’s why I send you to her now.

As you can tell I never accepted the offer and she never attempted to contact me again but I hope that she’s still in the same place, you will at least have someone to reach out to if you need them.

The letter went on to give you the address that your mum had last known your aunt to be living at as well as your grandparents last known address. You decided that you had nothing better to do then to go and at least apologise for the way that you mother had behaved right?

You were starting to regret ever trying to find your long lost family. It had you socialising with more people then you had ever wanted to, in fact when you knocked on the door of the apartment was not your aunt but your grandfather and grandmother both of whom seemed to recognise you for your resemblance to your mother. “We were told that she had passed, we were in the process of getting a letter to you ourselves.” Your grandfather had said “with everything else going on, we sent it out later than we hoped.” “I see, well my mum left me a letter explaining that my aunt was trying to reconnect, I don’t know if she still wants to or not but I at least wanted to apologise for my mother ignoring her all these years and you it would seem.” You explained. “Your mother was a good girl even when she was younger, Kyoko was the troubled one, it was no wonder that your mother separated herself from her and us, we spent a lot of time chasing after Kyoko while she chased after us all. Eventually she fell behind. I don't blame her for the distance between us, I’m just happy that you want to get to know us.” Your grandmother explained. “I wish that there was some other way to tell you this but your Aunt has passed as well.” Your grandfather informed you. “But her daughter Tohru is still here in fact, we are having out house renovated so that she could move in, maybe you could too if you like here.” “How are you so accepting after everything that my mother did?” You asked. “You are not your mother, you should not answer for what she has done not to mention your here, you want to be different do you not?” Your Grandfather asked. “You should meet Tohru, she'd be happy to have someone other than us around, you may be able to connect with her a little more, even if you are older.” Your grandmother suggested. “Okay, I can leave my number, I have to check in for the room that I booked but she can call whenever she wants… If she wants.” You explained as you stood from where you were sitting. “Thank you for seeing me today.”

You had only been settled into your room for about 2 hours before there was a knock on your door, you frowned not really knowing who would be knocking on your door “Are you (Y/N)?” A voice asked before you had even gotten a look at the body it belonged to. It only took a second for your eyes to fall on the girl with mid length brown hair, brown eyes and soft features, behind her was a taller blonde girl and another girl dressed in all black with black hair and a mysterious air about her. “Yes, that’s me.” You finally answered, waiting for whoever of the three to speak. “I’m Tohru, I know that you left your number to call but I couldn’t wait to meet you.” The brown haired girl said, your eyes widened. “These are my friends Saki and Arisa. Do you mind if we come in?” “Oh of course.” You stepped aside allowing them all to come in “please um, sit anywhere.” “You seem surprised…” Tohru frowned. “I just wasn’t expecting that you would want to meet me, you know considering it was my mother who cut connections with everyone, it wouldn’t be unfair for you to want nothing to do with me.” You shrugged. “No, I don’t think that it’s your fault that all of that happened and Mum always talked about the fun that she had with her sister before they grew apart, she missed her and I promised that if we ever met that I would try to make it work, honestly I thought that you would never contact us.” Tohru explained. “I didn’t know about you, when mum left I wasn’t born, she kept you a secret from me, only told me in a letter that she left me after she died.” You answered. “I’ve never been good at talking to people or making friends so really I don’t have anyone back home, I thought that maybe I could make some friends here and fix what my mother had broken.” “Well then we can be your first friends, Grandpa said that he offered you a place to stay, so why don’t you stay for a little while and see if you like it here.” Tohru suggested. “There are some other people that I could introduce you to as well.”

When Tohru sat down to eat with the Sohma’s that evening they could all tell that she was distracted but Kyo was the one to point it out “what is wrong with you?” he asked, causing Tohru to jump looking at him. “Oh sorry, I was just thinking, I met someone today, she needs some friends, I was hoping that maybe I could introduce her to all of you.” Tohru explained. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Yuki asked. “I don’t think her touching you is going to be a problem, she’s very reserved, it’s just that she’s my cousin and her Mum died, she doesn’t have anyone else, so I want her to feel welcome here, so she can stay close to the family that she has left.” Tohru explained. “You are always thinking about someone else.” Shigure smiled. “I don’t see the problem with you bringing her here as long as these two behave.” “Us!? What about you?” Kyo asked. “I don’t go around starting fights with everyone I meet.” Shigure dismissed him. “No, you just flirt with them instead.” Yuki muttered as the three launched into an argument which had become common at the table only stopping when Kyo launched across the table at Shigure, almost knocking everything everywhere.

It was only a week later that Tohru arranged for you to come over for dinner, she had made a huge meal for you all to enjoy and hoped that you would be able to find a friend in Shigure who was closer to your age then she was. What she hadn’t expected was for Hatori and Ayame to be there as well, when she entered the house with you, she had expected Shigure, Kyo and Yuki but she was face with the other two as well, she didn’t mind but it seemed that you did. “When you said meet other people, I assumed they would be other girls, are you trying to get me a new friend or boyfriend?” You asked. “O-oh I wasn’t trying anything, I swear!” Tohru panicked as she waved her hands around. “Is everything okay Miss Honda?” Shigure called over as he caught sight of your hushed conversation. “Everything is fine, we just weren’t expecting such a large group.” Tohru answered nervously. “Oh don’t worry we’re harmless, I promise.” Shigure smiled, his eyes caught on the book tucked under your arm “you like to read?” “I am better at reading than making friends.” You explained. “Maybe that will change here.” Shigure shrugged, “My name is Shigure Sohma.” “(Y/N) Honda.” You answered. “Well this is going to be confusing if we have to call you both Miss Honda.” Shigure muttered his hand coming up to his chin as he talked. “You can just call me (Y/N).” You suggested “there’s no reason for all the formalities.” “Then in that case please call me Shigure.” He smiled as he turned to the other two that he had been sitting with “Those two are close friends of my Hatori Sohma and Ayame Sohma. There are two friends of Tohru, Kyo Sohma and Yuki Sohma.” “Wow, such a big family.” You observed. “Not as close as some may think but yes we are a big family.” Shigure nodded as he led you over to the other two where he offered you a seat “what did you do back home?” He asked. “I had odd jobs, mostly working from home, especially after mum got sick.” You answered. “What do you all do?” “I have a shop in town where I design clothes, you should stop by sometime, I’m sure I could make something you like.” Ayame declared, you smiled softly, he seemed nice. “I’m a Doctor though I primarily work for the Sohma family.” Hatori answered and you nodded. “Shigure?” You asked and he smiled as he looked at you. “I’m a writer.” He answered. “Writer?” You asked. “That’s right.” He nodded. “I don’t suppose that you’ve read anything from me.” “I have a large collection, it’s highly likely that your books are in there too.” You answered with a nod “I’ve never been good with names, even if they write some of my most loved novels… Sorry.” “No need to apologise, all I ask is that you enjoy the work that I put out.” Shigure smiled softly as the conversation continued for the rest of the evening.

By the end of the week you had decided that you would stay, you didn’t move there straight away instead taking some time to move everything that you needed to your new home and finally finding a job, with the small amount of money that your mother had left you, you were able to secure a place to stay without a job but you still needed one to live. It didn’t take long to get a job at a small bookstore, with your knowledge of books and opinions on the subject when asked. You became better with the names of the writers and had even read all of the books that Shigure had written and even some that he had recommended. You were in that very shop now, you were the only one working that day, it was a small shop but the woman who ran it was old and had no children to help her. You were shelving some of the new stock when the door opened “well don’t you look at home.” You recognised the voice as Shigure’s. “What are you doing here?” You asked. “I was actually looking for someone.” He answered, “I believe that her shift ends soon.” “Her shift does end soon but what could you possibly need with her?” you asked as you turned to glance at him. Since meeting him a few months ago, you had become good friends and often teased each other. He was a flirt but the distance he kept between the two of you gave you the impression that that was all it was flirting. “Well I was hoping that she would join me for dinner tonight.” He said as he leant against the counter of the small store. “Dinner?” You asked. “What’s the occasion?” “Nothing you need to worry about… Dinner?” He asked again as he watched you place the last of the books on the shelf ready for the next day. “Sure, let's go.” You nodded.

The next day you were in the shop as usual, it was a slow moving day but when your next customer came in you were glad of the fact “You. What’s your name?” She asked, she seemed to darken to the entire shop as her shadow stretched from her feet. “My name is (Y/N).” You answered. “You're the one he talks about, the one he sees.” She moved closer and you suddenly felt as if you weren’t safe. “The one who stole him from me!” You gripped the counter behind you as you tried to stand your ground, you hadn’t taken anyone, she definitely had the wrong person. “I’m sorry but I don’t know what you're talking about.” You tried to say but as you hands lifted in a sign of surrender she grabbed your wrist, grip tight as she pulled you closer. “He was always by my side, what is so special about you!?” If venom could be fashioned into words those would be the ones, almost as if she wished she could kill you with them. “Who?” You asked. “Akito! Let go of her!” Shigure. He was the one that she was talking about. “She stole you from me!” Akito yelled. “No you pushed me away, she had nothing to do with the way our relationship has progressed, now let go of her!” Shigure ordered. Akito yelled, sharp and dangerous before throwing you to the floor, the speed and angle that you fell caused a sharp pain in your wrist, you were even sure that you heard it break. “We’re going home.” Akito ordered. “No, you are going home, I am going to make sure that (Y/N) is okay.” He answered as he walked past her crouch near you, there was another growl before you heard her step retreat. “Can you move?” “Who was that?” You asked pushing yourself up on your good arm to get into a proper sitting position. “The head of the family, she’s been a vile person to know for a long time now, the rest of the family had pulled away from her long before now but I had no one to pull back.” He answered. “Come on, we have to get your wrist checked.”

The next morning your wrist had been casted and you were back at the store, you hadn’t spoken to Shigure and you didn’t expect to instead it was Hatori who came to see you on the first day. “I’m only here to check on you.” He promised. “How are you holding up?” “I’m fine.” You answered. “And your wrist?” He asked. “Those painkillers work wonders.” You answered. “You know that he never meant for this to happen.” Hatori finally said “he is sly and cunning but he would never have wanted you to get hurt.” “Doesn’t matter, he’s not here you are. He never wanted me anyway, your head of the family had it all wrong.” “Is that what you think?” Hatori asked. “You are very much like Tohru from what I hear. It doesn't run in the family.” “What are you talking about?” You asked. “Tohru told us about her mother and while I didn’t know yours it would see that they were both similar, it was why they clashed so much maybe.” He suggested. “Maybe.” You answered. “You are nothing like that, you would rather let go of what you want if it meant that he’d be safe.” Hatori answered. “Sometimes the best course of action is not to take action at all.” You explained the door to the shop opened signalling the arrival of another customer.

The next day Ayame was the one to come and see you “Now why are you hiding away in here dear?” Ayame asked. “I’m not hiding, this is my job.” You smiled as he walked over to the counter. “And yet I don’t see you anywhere else.” He argued as he leaned against the counter. “You should have been given half the confidence that the rest of your family seems to possess.” He sighed. “What are you talking about?” You asked. “If only either one of you were brave enough to take what you wanted.” He sighed. “He’s worse than usual without you around, more antagonistic and annoying.” “It’s been two days, he’ll be fine.” You answered. “Can you blame me for wanting to keep the rest of me intact.” “I guess not.” Ayame sighed “but this has nothing to do with keeping yourself intact, your family has never been good at self preservation, Tohru has shown us that.” “I’m not Tohru.” You reminded him. “(Y/N) what are you still doing here dear, you need to pack.” The old lady who runs the store Miss Okai said. “I told you I didn’t need the extra time.” You smiled at her “it’s only a trip back to my old town to see some old friends.” “Go, now child the quicker you leave the quicker you see them.” She smiled, pushing you towards the door “go”.

“Shigure!” Ayame yelled as he all but fell into the living room of the small house. “You have to stop her!” “Who?” Shigure asked his eyes moving to the man who was seemingly heaving breaths. “(Y/N)! The curse has been broken, you don’t have to worry about Akito, I know what happened but she’s leaving, she said that she’s going to see old friends.” Ayame explained. “What’s the problem with that?” Shigure asked. “Shigure she has no friends back home remember, if you let her leave now you might not see her again, are you really okay with that?” Ayame asked. “You should go and see her.” Tohru said from where she was in the kitchen. “She spoke to me today, she said that she would probably be gone for a while, that I could call her whenever I wanted but that she would be here.” “You're worried?” Shigure asked. “This was the first place that she’s belonged to for a long time and Akito made her doubt that.” Tohru answered “I’m worried that if we let her leave now, she’ll never find somewhere to settle again.”

You sat on the sofa bag packed in the corner, some of the things that you thought you might need on your travels, you had decided that you needed a break even if that meant leaving everyone behind for a while. Your train left in the morning so you had to wait until then even if you were given a half day at work. “They were right about you leaving.” Shigure, you hadn’t heard that voice for a few days and only now do you realise how much you miss it. “What does it matter to you?” You asked, you didn’t bother to ask how he had gotten in, you were sure that he’d side step the question. “You didn’t tell me that you were leaving.” He said as he walked towards you. “I wasn’t aware that I needed to.” You frowned. “They all think that you need me, I don’t think that's true.” Shigure said as he came to stand in front of you “it’s me that needs you.” “What?” You asked as he leaned forward, hands placed on either side of you keeping you pinned to the sofa. “I need you.” He answered, pressing a kiss to your temple “I want you.” Another to your cheek. “I love you.” the last a kiss on the lips, soft, tentative as he one of his hands came up around the back of your head to hold you in place, pressing harder now that you were pushing him away exploring more of you than anyone else ever had, his tongue swiping gently against your bottom lip asking for entrance only pulling away when you needed to breathe. “You love me?” You asked. “More than you could ever know.” He promised “for a long time I chased Akito but she never wanted me, not the way I wanted her and then you came along, innocent and unburdened, you got to know me as Shigure and I loved every moment of you, my best memories are the ones I share with you.” “Then we should make some more?” You suggested, it sounded like a question and he hated that. “We will make more, no matter who tries to stop us.” He promised his hand moving down to gently rest on the cast on your wrist. “We can still see the world if that is what you want but I won’t let you do it alone.” “I leave tomorrow.” You reminded him and he smiled as he flopped down in the seat next to you. “We leave tomorrow.” He smirked, pressing another kiss to your cheek, his hand playing with your hair and drawing you closer “and then once we come back we’ll show everyone that we are the best thing that ever happened to each other.”

Request Here!!