#I’m looking into the former seriously for next year

[seospicybin]

EVERMORE.

CHAPTER I

Bangchan x reader x Hyunjin. (s,f,a)

EVERMORE MASTERLIST

Synopsis: When your daughter’s wedding weekend brings you, a former it-girl and Chris, a legendary rockstar back under one roof, the two of you must navigate old memories, unexpected feelings, and the chaos of family. As laughter, love, and a hint of scandal unfold, you're both reminded that some love stories don’t end—they just change shape. (22,8k words)

Author's note: I suggest reading this with an open heart and let it take you places ♡

Chris Bang Shares the Sweetest Surprise: “My Baby Girl’s Getting Married” July 14, 2024 — by Peter Han. Rock legend Chris Bang, frontman of the iconic ‘90s band Bang Theory, shocked fans this weekend—not with a surprise single, but with something far more personal: his daughter Tigerlily is engaged. The 47-year-old musician shared the news on his private Instagram, posting a rare father-daughter photo with the caption: “She used to hold my hand crossing the street, now she’s holding someone else’s. My baby girl’s getting married. God help him.” The post quickly went viral as fans poured in their congratulations (and nostalgia), remembering Tigerlily as the tiny girl who used to appear backstage during Bang Theory’s heyday. Sources close to the family say Chris has known about the engagement for months and has been "surprisingly chill" about it—though insiders claim he gave Julian, the lucky fiancé, “the talk” every overprotective dad dreams of delivering. “He’s proud,” said a longtime friend of the singer. “Even if he grumbles a lot, you can tell he’s thrilled for her.” Tigerlily, an illustrator and low-key darling of the city's creative scene, has kept the relationship mostly private. The engagement ring, however, is anything but. Fans spotted the vintage cut diamond a few weeks back—sparking early speculation that something big was coming. As for wedding details? Chris joked in an interview last month, “I’ll be there in a tux, crying into my whiskey.” We wouldn’t expect anything less.

-

The sun filters gently through the windows of the little bakery-slash-café Tigerlily picked for the cake tasting, its soft golden glow casting a peaceful warmth over the morning. You're perched beside her at a small round table near the corner, notebooks open, samples of cake laid out like precious little treasures on delicate porcelain plates.

It’s surreal, watching her like this—flipping through pages of catering options, seriously contemplating between lavender shortbread cookies and chocolate-dipped biscotti for the wedding favors. She’s focused, her brow furrowed slightly, her pen tapping her chin.

“You’re taking this very seriously,” you tease, breaking off a corner of sponge cake to taste.

She glances at you, mock-offended. “Of course I am. This is the cake. The most important cake I’ll ever have.”

You laugh softly, and she smiles, biting into a piece of vanilla almond before shaking her head. “Not this one. Too sweet.”

You nod, agreeing. “The buttercream’s nice though.”

“I’ll make a note of that,” she says, scribbling a little star next to it in her notebook.

The morning rolls on like that—cake tastings, discussions about savory vs. sweet hors d’oeuvres, the pros and cons of giving out mini olive oil bottles as favors. Eventually, the two of you take a break, coffees in hand, sitting outside the shop under the early spring sun.

Tigerlily leans back in her chair and studies you for a moment, sipping her latte. “You’re glowing.”

You raise a brow, pretending not to know what she’s talking about. “It’s the buttercream.”

She squints at you, unconvinced. “No. It’s something else. You’re… happy. Like, really happy. Did something happen?”

You offer her a vague smile, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just enjoying today.”

Tigerlily gives you a look that says she knows you better than that, but she doesn’t push. “Well, whatever it is, I like it. You look like someone who just remembered what it feels like to be a little selfish with your joy.”

You chuckle under your breath. “Maybe I am.”

She bumps her shoulder against yours. “Good. Keep doing that.”

You glance at her, your heart warm. “And you keep remembering that your wedding cake is supposed to make you happy.”

She laughs, and just like that, the moment folds itself gently back into the rhythm of the day—the two of you turning back to menus and ribbon swatches, sipping coffee in the sun, wrapped in the easy intimacy of mothers and daughters, quietly grateful for how love, in all its forms, continues to find its way back to you.

Back home, the sun has dipped behind the hills, casting a warm golden hue through the kitchen windows. The scent of garlic sizzling in olive oil fills the air, mingling with the sound of music playing in the background. You’re chopping tomatoes while Tigerlily stirs something in the pan, humming to the music, her movements fluid and light.

There’s something peaceful about this moment. The simple rhythm of cooking side by side, the way your conversation flows in and out of silence so easily—like waves, effortless and familiar.

“You know,” Tigerlily starts as she grates cheese over a bowl, “I love when we do this. Just the two of us in the kitchen. Feels like home.”

You smile, sliding the chopped tomatoes into a bowl. “It is home.”

She glances at you, a soft look in her eyes. “You’ve seemed… happier lately.”

You raise a brow. “You said that earlier.”

“I know,” she says, turning back to the stove, “but now I can really see it. The way you move, the way you talk—it’s like there’s a little spark in you again.”

You pause, stirring the basil into the sauce, trying not to smile. “Maybe I’m just excited about your wedding.”

Tigerlily grins, not buying it. “Maybe. Or maybe it has something to do with a certain someone...?”

You let out a soft laugh. “You don’t give up, do you?”

“Not when I think something—or someone—is making you happy.” She leans her hip against the counter, watching you carefully. “You don’t have to tell me everything. But… does he make you feel good?”

Your hands slow as you stir. You glance up at her, thoughtful. “I guess... yeah.”

Tigerlily nods, her voice gentle. “Then I think that’s enough. For now.”

You reach out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear like you used to when she was a little girl. “You’re wise beyond your years.”

“Thank you. I get it from my mom,” she says with a smirk.

There’s a knock on the door just as you’re draining the pasta, steam rising up in curls. You glance toward the front of the house, wiping your hands on a towel.

“That must be Julian,” Tigerlily says, already untying her apron. “Can you check the sauce for a second?”

“On it,” you call after her, giving the pot a little stir as you hear the front door open.

But instead of the familiar laughter or a fiancé’s greeting, there’s a pause. Then you hear Tigerlily’s voice float back, tinged with surprise, “Oh. Hi.”

You lean around the doorway just in time to see her stepping aside, revealing Hyunjin standing at the door. He’s holding a brown cardboard box. His white shirt clings faintly from the warmth outside, sleeves rolled up, and he looks as casual as ever—until his eyes find you.

“I just came by to drop this off,” he says, lifting the box a little. “Your pottery piece. It’s done. I figured I’d bring it over before I forgot.”

Your lips pull into a smile without you even realizing it. “That’s really kind of you.”

Tigerlily glances between the two of you. And then, casually, with the slyest little smile tugging at her lips, she says, “Well, Hyunjin. Since you’re here… why don’t you join us for dinner?”

Hyunjin looks at her, then at you—his eyes searching for an answer in yours. You give him a subtle nod, soft and encouraging. He smiles, just a hint shy, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to be this lucky. “Yeah. I'd love to.”

Tigerlily beams, already heading back into the kitchen. “Hope you like pasta.”

You take a step toward him, meeting him halfway to take the box from his hands. Your fingers brush briefly. “Thank you. For bringing this.”

His voice dips low as he smiles, “I figured you’d want to see how beautiful it turned out.”

You raise an eyebrow, playful. “The pottery or the delivery guy?”

Hyunjin chuckles, slow and warm. “Both, I hope.”

And you’re smiling again—because how could you not?

-

The three of you settle around the dining table, plates filled with steaming pasta and roasted vegetables. The mood is light, cozy, laughter from the kitchen trailing into the soft hum of music playing from the speaker in the corner.

Tigerlily reaches for the cardboard box Hyunjin had placed on the table earlier. “Is this it?” she asks, already opening the lid.

You nod, twirling your fork. “Don’t expect too much.”

But when she pulls out the finished plate, her eyes go wide with delight. “Wait—this is actually beautiful! Mom, you made this?”

“She did,” Hyunjin says proudly, his voice warm. “First try too.”

Tigerlily turns to you, mouth parted in disbelief. “When did you even make this?”

Hyunjin answers before you can. “A few days ago. In my studio.”

There’s a glint in his eye, a teasing edge to his grin as he throws a quick wink your way. “She was… very committed. Focused. Hands-on.”

You nearly choke on your wine at the innuendo hidden in his voice, shooting him a warning look. He only smirks deeper, clearly enjoying himself.

Tigerlily squints suspiciously between the two of you. “Wait. What kind of pottery class was this exactly—?”

A knock at the door cuts her off.

“That must be Julian,” she says, hopping up from her chair and leaving the room.

As soon as she’s out of earshot, Hyunjin leans in slightly, his fingers brushing yours under the table before gently, confidently, slipping into your hand. The warmth of his palm is grounding, calming.

You glance at him, heart skipping as he quietly says, “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”

You hear the front door open, Tigerlily’s bright laugh greeting Julian as they come inside. And still, under the table, Hyunjin doesn’t let go.

Julian’s eyes widen the moment he sees Hyunjin sitting at the table. “Oh! I didn’t know our best man joining dinner tonight.”

Hyunjin rises slightly from his seat, giving Julian a quick hug. “I was lured in with the smell of pasta.”

Julian chuckles and teases, “And by my girlfriend's mom, apparently?”

You shake your head and give Julian a playful glare. “Julian, please, just sit down,” you tell him.

The food is warm and comforting, and conversation flows easily. Most of it stays light—talk of flower arrangements, DJ options, the pros and cons of buffets versus plated dinners. Julian and Tigerlily finish each other’s sentences more than once, making you smile. You feel Hyunjin’s thumb brush gently along your palm under the table. It’s barely noticeable, but grounding.

Then, somewhere between the second glass of wine and the tiramisu being passed around, Tigerlily turns to you. “Hey, Mom… what was your wedding like?”

You pause, surprised by the question.

Tigerlily shrugs. “You never really talk about it. I mean… you and Dad. Did you do a big thing?”

You exchange a quick glance with Hyunjin before shaking your head. “No. No big thing.”

Julian tilts his head, curious now too. “Really?”

You smile faintly, brushing your fingers around the rim of your glass. “Chris and I got married on a whim. It was… spontaneous. We were both young and in love and reckless. He was on tour. We were somewhere in between cities—I don’t even remember where exactly—and we just decided to do it.”

Tigerlily blinks. “Just like that?”

“We found this little church. We had a very small, quiet ceremony. No guests. No dress. Just the two of us, the band members and a couple of strangers as witnesses.”

There’s a quiet that falls over the table. Not heavy, just thoughtful. You hesitate a little before glancing at Hyunjin, unsure of how he might take hearing all this. Would he think you were careless? Impulsive? Too much of the past still tangled in you?

But he’s already looking at you and he’s smiling. Soft. Warm. Reassuring. Then you feel it—his fingers wrap gently around yours beneath the table, giving your hand a tender squeeze. It tells you everything you need to hear. That he sees you. That your past doesn’t scare him. That he’s still here.

Tigerlily breaks the silence with a gentle sigh. “That’s kinda romantic though.”

Julian laughs and nods. “Very rock-n-roll.”

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything. He just continues to hold your hand quietly, letting his thumb trace slow, soothing lines across your skin.

The night eventually comes to an end and you send everyone on their way out of your house. Tigerlily gives you a warm hug followed by a kiss to your cheek and Julian takes his turn next.

“Dinner was perfect,” he says. “Thank you again.”

You smile, eyes flicking toward Hyunjin, who lingers just behind them. When it’s his turn, you can feel the air shift—your body naturally leaning toward him, instinct ready to close the space for a hug. But you stop yourself. Tigerlily is right there. And you’re not ready. Not just yet.

Hyunjin seems to understand, offering you a simple smile instead as he says, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” you echo, softer than you meant to.

He turns to walk toward his car, and you watch him go, your chest tightening with each step he takes away.

“Hyunjin,” you call out before you can stop yourself.

He turns, brows slightly lifted in surprise. “Yes?”

“I—” You hesitate, then clear your throat. “I need you to help me with something. Inside.”

He tilts his head, confused but nods. “Sure.”

Just as he starts walking back toward you, Tigerlily and Julian pull out of the driveway. She rolls the window down, grinning and waving at you. You lift your hand, wave back. Only when their headlights disappear into the night, do you step back inside and hold the door open for him.

Hyunjin steps in after you. “What can I help you with?”

You close the door behind him and immediately turn on your heel. Without a word, you reach for him and kiss him. His body stills at first, caught off guard—but only for a second. Then he’s kissing you back, his hands catching your waist, pulling you closer.

When you finally break the kiss, breath shallow and cheeks flushed, you whisper, “It was just an excuse. I couldn’t— I'm too embarrassed to kiss you in front of Tigerlily. Or Julian.”

Hyunjin stares at you for a moment, his lips curling into a grin. “So you made me come back inside for that?”

You smile, a little embarrassed. “Yes.”

He chuckles once, low and warm in his chest—and then he’s spinning you around, your back pressing into the door with a soft thud as his body finds yours again. He cups your jaw and leans in, lips brushing yours as he murmurs, “Next time, you don’t need an excuse.”

Your back is still pressed against the door, lips tingling from the kiss Hyunjin just stole, when he leans in again, cupping your jaw and kissing you once more—slower this time, like he wants to memorize the feel of your mouth. You respond instinctively, hands slipping up his chest, fingers curling into the soft fabric of his shirt.

Time feels suspended. The only sound is the quiet hum of the night and the soft breaths exchanged between kisses, one melting into another as if neither of you wants to let go just yet. But eventually, you gently press your hands to his chest, letting your forehead rest against his.

“It’s getting late,” you whisper, voice low and reluctant.

He pauses for a second, lips barely brushing yours, before pulling back with a soft chuckle. “So it is,” he mutters, still close, eyes half-lidded with affection. “And I should be a gentleman and go home.”

You laugh, nodding as you slide your hands down to rest at your sides. “That would be the noble thing to do.”

He doesn’t move just yet. Instead, he brushes a few strands of hair away from your face, his fingers grazing your cheek as he tucks it gently behind your ear. He holds it there for a second, like he’s framing your face with his gaze alone.

“Goodnight,” he says, softly, as if saying it too loud might break the moment.

“Goodnight,” you echo, your voice just as tender.

He leans in and kisses you again—just once this time. Soft, warm, brief. Then he steps back, slowly pulling himself away like it physically pains him to leave.

You watch him walk out, the door clicking shut behind him. And for a long moment after, you stay where you are, heart full, smile lingering.

-

The bridal shop smells faintly of fresh flowers and fabric softener, and the soft classical music in the background sets a dreamy tone. You sit on a plush ivory chair, sipping on complimentary tea, watching as Tigerlily disappears behind a curtain with a stylist and a few dresses in her arms. You're looking at the shop catalog when Tigerlily pulls back the curtain and steps out in her first gown.

You gasp, mouth hanging open and unable to say anything until a moment later. “Oh, sweetheart,” you say, standing up with a hand over your chest. “You look like a dream.”

She spins slightly, admiring herself in the mirror. “It’s nice, right? But I think we can go bigger,” she grins, already cueing the stylist to bring the next one.

The two of you only have one hour and a half to try the dresses and Tigerlily makes a good use of the time by trying everything that suits her style. She slips into the fourth dress with a glimmer in her eyes—and this time, when she steps out, she doesn't say a word.

You inhale sharply. “Oh…”

She stands tall in the mirror, draped in delicate lace and layers of flowing silk. The bodice hugs her perfectly, the train trailing behind her like a soft whisper. She turns toward you, a little breathless herself. “I think this is it,” she says quietly.

You nod, trying not to get emotional. “You look… perfect. Oh, my goodness!”

The stylist hands her a veil, and as soon as it's pinned to her hair, the both of you lock eyes—and tear up.

“Okay,” Tigerlily says, wiping at her cheeks, “that’s enough of me for now.”

You laugh. “What do you mean? You’re the bride.”

“Yeah, yeah. But we’ve got time left in our session, and we’re not leaving until you try something on.”

You blink. “Me?”

“Yes, you. We need to find your dress too. And you’re not showing up to my wedding in some boring beige thing off a department rack. You’re trying on dresses, Mom.”

Before you can protest, the stylist is already leading you to a different rack—sophisticated, elegant evening gowns in rich tones and luxurious fabrics.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” you mutter as she zips you into a soft lilac number.

Tigerlily laughs and pulls out her phone. “Hold still,” she says, already dialing.

You hear a familiar voice on the screen. “What’s going on?” Chris’s face pops up, framed by what looks like a dressing room backstage.

“We’re at the bridal shop. Look what I made Mom do,” Tigerlily grins as she turns the camera toward you.

Chris’s eyes widen dramatically. “Whoa. Okay. Okay—hold on, are we sure you’re not the one getting married?”

You roll your eyes, smoothing the fabric down your sides. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m serious. You look—” he whistles low, “—absolutely stunning.”

You feel a small blush creep up your cheeks. “Stop it.”

“She’s trying to upstage me,” Tigerlily deadpans to the phone. “I knew it.”

Chris laughs. “I mean… if anyone could, it’s her. That dress? Ten out of ten.”

You glance at yourself in the mirror and smile softly. “It’s been a while since I wore something like this.”

“You should wear things like that more often,” Chris says through the screen, his voice quieter now. “It suits you.”

And though the moment is playful, there’s a quiet sincerity in his tone—and Tigerlily catches it too. She glances between the two of you, her eyes softening, but she says nothing. “Alright,” she chirps after a beat. “We’re gonna keep playing dress-up, I’ll call you later, Dad.”

“Bye, sweetheart. Bye, stunning mystery woman,” Chris teases as he waves.

You roll your eyes again but can’t stop smiling as the call ends.

“Okay,” Tigerlily says, arms crossed as she eyes your reflection. “We’re getting that one.”

By the time the two of you pull up in front of your house, the sky is blushing with the colors of early sunset. You unbuckle your seatbelt, still smiling from the day you've had.

“Thanks for today,” you tell her, reaching over to squeeze her hand.

“Don’t thank me yet,” she grins, reaching into the back seat. “I’ve got something for you.”

You narrow your eyes as she plops a glossy pink box with a silk ribbon into your lap. “What’s this?”

“Just open it.”

You untie the ribbon and lift the lid. Nestled inside are some fun bachelorette party essentials—mini champagne bottle, a personalized satin robe with your name embroidered on it, a face mask, a little card that says Bride Squad, and a gold foil invitation.

You lift your gaze to her, amused. “Tigerlily.”

She’s already looking at you with big, hopeful eyes. “I want you to come to the bachelorette party.”

You blink. “No. Absolutely not. That’s your night to go wild with your friends. I’m not—this—look at this,” you hold up the robe, “I’m too old for this.”

“You are not too old,” she says with a huff. “And even if you were, I don’t care. You’re still my best girl. I want you there.”

“Tigerlily, sweetheart, you’re supposed to drink questionable cocktails out of straws shaped like—”

“—Don’t finish that sentence,” she says quickly, then grins. “But yes. And you’re coming.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “You should be partying with your bridesmaids, not your mother.”

“I want both,” she insists, wrapping her arms around your shoulder. “Please? It won’t be all chaos, I promise. It’ll be fun, just us girls, nothing crazy. Just come and be part of it. For me, please?”

You sigh, already losing the battle. “You’re impossible to say no to, you know that?”

She beams, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “That’s the point.”

You look down at the robe in your hands again and let out a soft laugh. “Fine. I’ll come.”

Tigerlily cheers and hugs you tight, rocking you side to side in her excitement.

As you step out of the car and wave her off, you stand at your front door for a moment, still holding the box. Your smile lingers. The robe, the invite, the day you just had—it all makes you feel like you’re slowly stepping into something new, not just for her, but for yourself, too.

-

Hyunjin’s studio is warm with late afternoon light filtering through the tall windows, casting soft golden hues over the clay-splattered floor. The two of you are standing at the workbench, sleeves rolled up, aprons on, fingers already dusted in fine powder.

"You know," Hyunjin says, handing you a neatly portioned piece of clay, "we should make something that fits together. Like puzzle mugs."

You raise an eyebrow. "Puzzle mugs?"

"Yeah," he grins. "Like, yours has a little curve and mine has a little bump and they fit together when we put them side by side."

Hyunjin is an artist yet he suggests something silly like this, you can't help but chuckle at it. “You’re such a romantic.”

“I'm not ashamed to admit it,” he says, leaning in to bump his shoulder lightly against yours.

You just smile, settling in at the wheel as he sets up beside you. As you begin shaping your mug, Hyunjin watches you like a hawk—only under the guise of being your personal instructor.

"Your fingers are too tense," he murmurs after a while, stepping behind you.

"I think I'm doing just fine," you say, even though you secretly enjoy it when he helps you.

"Let me help you," he says anyway, his hands gently slipping over yours as he guides the movement. His chest brushes your back, warm and steady, and his voice is low in your ear. "There... see? Perfect."

You’re pretty sure he just wanted an excuse to be close. “You know,” you tease, glancing over your shoulder at him, “I’m starting to think you just like hovering.”

“What gave it away?” he smirks, not even trying to deny it. Then he leans in and presses a soft kiss to your cheek, lips lingering just a second longer than necessary.

You try to return to focusing on your mug, but every time you settle back into your work, he finds another excuse to touch—helping you fix the handle, brushing clay from your cheek, nudging your hip with his playfully. And each time, he steals a kiss. A peck on the temple. A brush along your jaw. One, right at the corner of your lips that almost makes you drop your clay.

“Hyunjin,” you warn softly, fighting back a smile.

“What?” he says innocently, grinning like the devil as he presses another kiss to the back of your neck. “I’m just helping.”

“You’re distracting.”

“Exactly,” he says, and finally leans in to steal a proper kiss—gentle, warm, slow. His lips taste faintly of the coffee you shared earlier and his hands settle at your hips like they belong there. When he finally pulls away, you’re both smiling, cheeks flushed, hearts beating just a little faster.

The studio hums with a quiet kind of satisfaction—the kind that comes after creating something with your hands, something just yours. You wipe your hands on your apron and step away from the wheel, wandering toward the shelves that line the studio walls. His latest pieces are perched there—soft-glazed bowls, sculptural vases with rippling textures, experimental forms that look like they’re breathing.

You tilt your head, admiring them, fingers tracing the air just above their surface. “I see that you’ve been busy,” you murmur.

From behind you, you feel the slow, steady presence of Hyunjin as he steps close. Then his arms slip around your waist, pulling you gently back against him. His chest warm against your spine. You smile without even realizing it.

“I had inspiration,” he says into your neck, his voice low, his breath teasing your skin.

You turn your head slightly, your body already reacting to the soft press of his lips just beneath your ear. He places another kiss just under your jaw, then another lower, slower, right where your pulse flutters. Your breath hitches.

“Hyunjin…” you whisper, but it comes out less like a warning and more like a sigh.

“Mhm?” His mouth is still at your neck, smiling against your skin.

You tilt your head a little more—partly to tease, partly because you can’t help it—and he takes it as invitation. One hand stays curled around your waist, the other slides along your hip, and when he finally turns your head toward him, his lips find yours in a kiss that starts soft but deepens quickly. His mouth moves with slow purpose, like he has all the time in the world, like he wants to taste every part of you.

When you finally pull back, just enough to breathe, his forehead leans against yours and he murmurs, “I could stay like this forever.”

Your hand comes up to rest against his cheek, your thumb brushing the clay-smudged skin there. “We’d have to eat eventually.”

Hyunjin chuckles, his dimples flashing. “Only if we eat from the couple plates we made.”

You smile, caught in the bubble of this quiet, golden moment, his arms still holding you close. And somehow, even in the silence, you can feel the beat of something new beginning—carefully, naturally, without needing to rush.

Hyunjin's arms are still wrapped around you when he leans in, lips brushing your cheek in a gentle kiss that makes your heart flutter. “Let's go somewhere this weekend,” he murmurs. “Just us. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere far.”

You turn your head to look at him, and he’s already smiling—eyes filled with that kind of mischief and affection that always seems to undo you. You open your mouth to answer, but your thoughts momentarily scatter at the sight of his beautiful face so close to yours, lit with the fading light and warm contentment. You almost forget what you were trying to say.

“I can’t,” you finally manage, with a soft, apologetic laugh. “I have Tigerlily’s bachelorette party this weekend.”

Hyunjin’s smile falters into a playful frown, his brows drawing together. “So… you’re going to have fun without me?”

You nod slowly, teasing. “Exactly.”

He scoffs, mock offended. “What if you meet someone younger and prettier than me?”

You give him a long, dramatic look. “Younger, maybe. But prettier?” You shake your head. “Impossible.”

Hyunjin bursts into laughter, his dimples showing as he grins wide. “You’re so biased.”

“Only a little,” you say, brushing your thumb gently over his cheek. “And you have the bachelor's party too, right?”

He hums, then leans his forehead against yours, his voice dipping lower. “Still… I’d rather be alone with you.”

You smile, cupping his jaw. “It’s just for the weekend.”

Hyunjin groans quietly, burying his face into the crook of your neck like a sulking child. “I miss you already.”

You laugh, soft and breathy, your fingers tangling in his hair as you hold him there. “We’re literally together right now.”

“Not the same,” he mutters, his voice muffled against your skin.

You let your eyes fall closed for a moment, just savoring the closeness, the way your body molds into his so naturally. It’s been a long time since you felt this light, this wanted—this adored. And the truth is, you’re starting to miss him already too.

He rests his chin lightly on your shoulder, the curve of his smile brushing against your skin. You place your hands over his, but then slowly turn in his embrace to face him. His eyes are soft, searching. And in that moment, with his face so close, his hands so gentle on your waist, your heart swells—too full, too fast.

“Hyunjin,” you begin, your voice barely above a whisper, “I need to say something.”

He straightens, listening and he holds your gaze, giving you all of his attention.

“These feelings between us…” you take a breath, “they’re strong. Maybe a little too strong sometimes. They make it hard to think clearly.”

His brows knit just slightly, not in worry—just in quiet attention.

You continue, “When I was younger, I rushed into things. I followed my heart blindly because that’s what you do when you’re young, right? But now... I’ve learned. I don’t want to make the same mistakes.”

His expression softens even more, lips parting slightly as he listens.

“I want to do this right,” you say. “I want to take things slow. I need you to understand that.”

For a moment, he says nothing. Just watches you, his eyes unreadable. Then, slowly, he nods. “I understand,” he says softly.

Your chest loosens with a breath you didn’t know you were holding. And then a smile curves at the corner of his mouth—playful and warm.

“I can do slow,” he says, tilting his head as his thumb brushes lightly along your waist. “But just so you know... I’m still going to kiss you every chance I get.”

You laugh, a soft, breathy sound, because of course he’d say something like that.

“But only after I ask,” he adds with a wink, “like a gentleman.”

You roll your eyes, but your heart flutters anyway. Slow, you think. Yes. But that doesn’t mean it can’t still feel like falling.

-

The bachelorette weekend takes you to a vibrant coastal city, the kind that pulses with energy even before the sun sets. Tigerlily books a gorgeous suite for herself, her closest friends, and you—even if you keep joking that you're the designated chaperone.

But she’s not having that. “You’re not my mom tonight,” she says as she tosses a glittery, body-hugging dress onto the bed in front of you. “You’re my hot bestie. Now get changed.”

You laugh, holding up the dress. “You do realize I’m going to need a chiropractor after this.”

“You’ll need a shot, not a chiropractor,” she grins, already pulling on her heels. “Come on. Let’s have fun.”

The club is loud, crowded, and alive. Music throbs through the walls, and the lights flicker in time with your heartbeat. Tigerlily's friends are instantly swept onto the dance floor, but you take your time at the bar, ordering a drink just to ease into the chaos.

As you wait, a man—mid-thirties, maybe younger—leans on the bar beside you. “Let me guess,” he says, eyeing you with a slow smile, “you’re not from around here.”

You arch a brow. “That obvious?”

“In a good way,” he says smoothly. “You’ve got this whole... mysterious elegance thing going on.”

You chuckle, amused but not buying it. “Mysterious elegance, huh?”

Before he can continue, Tigerlily appears at your side like she’s been watching the whole thing. She slides her arm through yours and grins at the guy. “Sorry, she’s taken.”

You sputter a little. “Am I?”

“You are tonight,” she replies without missing a beat, already dragging you back toward the dance floor.

“Was that necessary?” you ask, laughing.

“Absolutely. That man looked like he was about to write you poetry.”

You shake your head, but you're smiling. “I still got it?”

Tigerlily bumps her hip against yours. “You never lost it.”

The two of you dance. And for the first time in a long while, you let go. You laugh until your cheeks hurt, sway to the beat, sip cocktails with sparkly straws, and feel a version of yourself you haven’t seen in years stretch awake. And you realize—you're not just doing this for Tigerlily anymore. You’re doing it for you.

Despite Tigerlily’s words saying that you’re not the chaperone. That tonight, you're just one of the girls. But the second the night winds down and heels start coming off, the music now just a low thump in the background of your ears, your maternal instinct takes over like second nature.

You count heads and then guide swaying bodies down the hallway of the hotel. One by one, you get them to their rooms—someone’s missing a phone, another forgot their keycard—but you manage. You always do.

Tigerlily is last. She's clutching onto your arm, half-laughing, half-mumbling something about how the room keeps spinning. She can barely walk straight, so you wrap an arm around her waist and hold her steady.

"You’re so bossy when you're sober," she slurs, giggling into your shoulder.

"I’m always bossy. Sober or not," you mutter fondly, helping her into the room.

You ease her down onto the bed and begin unlacing her heels. She flops back dramatically with a groan, like the soft sheets have defeated her.

“No sleeping until you drink this,” you say, pressing a cold glass of water to her lips.

She takes a few sips, grumbling. “You're worse than Julian.”

You smile and gently pull a blanket over her. "Duh! I'm your mother."

Once her breathing evens out and you’re sure she’s asleep, you head to the bathroom to wash off the night. The cool water feels good against your flushed cheeks, and by the time you’ve changed into a loose shirt and shorts, your feet are aching, and sleep is calling. Sighing to yourself that you're indeed too old for this.

You slip under the covers beside her. The hotel bed is wide and soft, and for a moment, you stare up at the ceiling, thinking about how tonight felt like a glimpse into another life. A little wild. A little young. A little free.

Tigerlily mumbles something in her sleep and shifts closer, curling into your side like she used to as a kid after a nightmare. You smile, gently smoothing her hair.

"My girl’s getting married," you whisper to the dark, a little in awe of it all.

You're just about to doze off when your phone vibrates on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with Hyunjin’s name. Your heart does that little skip it always does when it’s him.

You answer quietly, voice soft in the dim hotel room. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he says, and even through the phone, you can hear the smile in his voice. “Did I wake you?”

“Not yet,” you whisper, glancing at Tigerlily snoring softly beside you. “I just got into bed.”

“I miss you,” he says without hesitation.

You smile. “You just called me this afternoon.”

“Yeah, and that was already too long ago,” he murmurs. “How was the party?”

You sigh, rolling onto your back. “Loud. Wild. There was a lot of dancing, a lot of drinking. Oh—and a couple of guys tried to flirt with me at the bar.”

There’s a beat of silence, then—“What?”

You bite your lip, already amused.

Hyunjin groans dramatically. “Were they cute?”

“Hmm… not really my type.”

He scoffs. “So you have a type?”

You let out a soft laugh. “Apparently, yes.”

“Let me guess. Tall. Buzzcut hair. Has paint or clay on his hands at all times. Annoyingly charming.”

You grin into the darkness. “Sounds familiar.”

“I can’t believe you let someone else talk to you,” he mutters, pouting so hard you can practically hear it.

“You’re so dramatic.”

“I’m possessive,” he corrects, “and jealous. And currently imagining you in a crowded club looking way too good while I’m stuck thinking about you while everyone else is having fun at Julian’s bachelor party.”

You shake your head, heart fluttering. “You have nothing to worry about. I spent the second half of the night chaperoning drunk girls to their rooms. I’m pretty sure that killed the vibe for everyone.”

He groans again. “Why are you like this? So good. So angelic.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. “I’m not that good.”

“You are,” he says, quieter this time. “You’re kind. You take care of everyone. You have no idea how rare that is.”

There’s a pause. You blink up at the ceiling. “Are you drunk?” you tease, voice softening.

“No,” he says, “Maybe, but also... stupid in love.”

You hold yourself back from smiling but in the next second, you catch yourself doing it on the reflection on the mirror.

“I miss kissing you,” he says suddenly. “I miss the taste of your lips. I keep thinking about it. How long until I get to do that again?”

You go quiet, warmth blooming in your chest, spreading slow and tender. “I miss you too,” you finally say.

He hums. “Do you think about kissing me too?”

You bite your bottom lip and smile to yourself. “Goodnight, Hyunjin.”

“Oh, come on—”

“Sleep well.”

“I’m imagining it anyway,” he says, smirking through the phone.

“Bye,” you laugh, and hang up before he can say anything else.

You set your phone down, heart beating fast, and lie there in the dark for a long moment—grinning like a teenager, feeling like one too. God, you missed this feeling.

-

The energy is electric in Tigerlily’s suite tonight. The whole room glows under soft, warm lights and the scent of vanilla candles mingles with the sugary sweetness of the cakes piled high on the coffee table. Laughter bounces off the walls as music plays low from a speaker tucked in the corner.

You’re all dressed in matching silk pajamas—rosy blush pink with embroidered initials on the pocket, courtesy of Tigerlily, of course. The fabric is smooth against your skin, the kind of luxury that makes you feel girlish and a little silly, but it’s infectious.

Someone pops another bottle of champagne and the fizz makes everyone cheer. Flutes are constantly being topped up, hands full of chocolate truffles and strawberry cupcakes, and someone just declared it was time for a group selfie with whipped cream on their nose.

Tigerlily is glowing in the middle of it all, a tiara nestled into her soft waves and a sash that reads BRIDE TO BE draped over her shoulder. She looks at you from across the room with her eyes sparkling, and you smile back, shaking your head fondly as you take another sip of your drink.

“Come on, you’re not getting out of this,” one of her friends laughs, dragging you toward the bed where they’re setting up for a game of “Truth or Dare.”

“I thought I was just here to supervise,” you tease, sliding onto the edge of the mattress.

“Not tonight,” Tigerlily grins, sitting next to you and leaning her head on your shoulder. “Tonight, you’re one of the girls.”

You feel warm—not from the champagne, but from the comfort of being surrounded by joy. It’s been a while since you’ve had a night like this.

You narrow your eyes at her and say, “Truth”

A collective gasp and a series of excited giggles erupt from the circle of girls, and one of Tigerlily’s friends—a bold one named Minji—leans forward with a mischievous grin. “Okay then,” she says, eyes gleaming. “Since it’s all girls here and we’re already past tipsy, we want to know—how was the sexual chemistry between you and The Chris Bang?”

The room explodes into shrieks and laughter.

You blink, caught completely off guard. “Excuse me?” you choke out, a flush rising up your neck.

“You picked Truth!” Tigerlily sings, covering her face in secondhand embarrassment.

You laugh, flustered but not backing down. “Are we really doing this?”

“Rules are rules!” someone shouts.

You glance at Tigerlily, who is already groaning into a pillow. “I’m only answering this to scar my daughter for life,” you say dramatically, and everyone howls with laughter.

You pause for effect, taking a sip of your champagne with a smirk. “Let’s just say… every night was a new adventure and Tigerlily’s dad is a very skilled lover.”

A wave of delighted squeals and gasps ripple through the room.

“OH MY GOD!” Tigerlily yells, throwing the pillow at you while everyone collapses into laughter. “MOM, NO! I didn’t need to hear that!”

You can barely breathe from laughing so hard. “You asked for it!”

Minji claps her hands gleefully. “Best answer of the night. I have no regrets.”

You and Tigerlily are both flustered—her from horror, you from champagne and the sheer chaos of the moment—but the laughter is infectious.

The room softens as the champagne bottles empty and the sugar rush fades into warm, lazy giggles. The lights are dimmed now, casting a golden glow over the suite as everyone lounges on the fluffy rug or leans into the plush pillows scattered across the floor. One of the girls starts playing soft music in the background, and someone else—Juni, you think—sighs dreamily.

“Okay, okay,” she says, tipping her empty glass toward Tigerlily, “before I start crying for real—can we talk about how lucky we are to know this woman?”

A chorus of “yes” follows, and the room starts to glow with something softer than champagne.

They take turns—each of them sharing stories. Some are sweet, like the time Tigerlily stayed up all night helping a friend through a breakup. Some are silly, like the time she tried to impress a guy at a party and ended up slipping on her own drink. And some… are a little wilder.

“She once went skinny dipping once and almost got caught by hotel security,” Minji blurts out.

“MINJI!” Tigerlily yells, lunging for a pillow.

Everyone’s laughing again, and in the middle of it, Tigerlily covers your ears with both hands. “You didn’t hear that,” she says, eyes wide with mock horror.

“Oh, I definitely heard it,” you say, smiling as she pouts and hides her face.

More stories come, even more heartfelt ones. Her friends talk about how fiercely loyal she is, how she’s always been the glue that holds everyone together, how she lights up every room she walks into. And the whole time, you sit there beside her, watching her cheeks flush pink, her eyes glimmering from the emotions threatening to spill over.

At some point, she leans into your side and links her arm with yours. “I love them so much,” she whispers, voice soft and sleepy.

You press a kiss to her temple. “They love you just as much.”

It’s warm, the kind of warmth that settles in your bones. For a second, everything else fades—the wedding, the planning, even Hyunjin—and all that remains is this moment, your daughter surrounded by love, and you sitting right next to her, proud and full-hearted.

-

The suite is quiet once everyone have left. The laughter has faded into soft snore and the occasional rustle of satin against sheets. You and Tigerlily are curled up on the bed, wrapped in a cozy tangle of blankets and the lingering scent of champagne and cake. Her head rests against your shoulder, her breath warm and slow, still tinged with the sleepiness of wine and emotion. She murmurs something incoherent, and you chuckle softly, reaching up to remove the little sparkling tiara still resting askew on her head.

“There,” you whisper, placing it gently on the bedside table. “Queen of the night, now ready to sleep.”

She hums in response, eyes barely open, and you run your fingers gently through her hair, brushing it back from her face the way you used to when she was a child falling asleep in your lap. For a moment, the years blur — she’s no longer the grown woman about to become a bride, but your baby again. Just your little girl.

Then her voice comes again, quieter this time, like a secret unfurling in the dark. “Mom, do you know the real reason I brought you on this trip?” she asks.

You smile, looking down at her. “Why don’t you tell me, honey?”

She shifts, propping herself up on an elbow, her eyes glossy now, shimmering in the low light. “Because after you told me how you didn’t even get a real wedding with Dad, I realized… this is your first time too. First time doing all of this. First time experiencing... life.”

You open your mouth to say something, but she’s not done. “I started thinking about how much you missed. You had me when you were barely older than I am now. And while everyone else your age was out discovering the world, you were raising one.”

Her voice cracks, and she blinks fast, but the tears slip out anyway. “You missed a lot, Mom.”

You reach up and gently cup her cheek, brushing a tear away with your thumb. “Maybe. But I also gained more than I ever thought I could.”

She looks at you, really looks, her heart in her throat.

“I wouldn’t change a thing,” you continue, voice steady despite the lump forming in your chest. “If I had a chance to do it all over again, I’d still choose this life. I’d still choose you. You were never the thing I missed out on — you were the gift. The best one I’ve ever had.”

That’s when she breaks, she buries her face into your chest, arms wrapping around you tightly as her sobs come freely now. Her words are muffled, broken between sniffles and hiccups.

“Thank you,” she cries, “thank you for being my mom. For everything. For always being there.”

You hold her close, your arms strong around her trembling frame, your lips pressed gently to her hair.

“And I thank you,” you whisper, “for being mine. For choosing me back. You’ll always be my baby. Even when you’re someone’s wife. Even when you’re old and gray. You’ll always be my little cub… my Tigerlily.”

She cries harder at that, and you let her. You stroke her hair, her back, hold her like you did when she was small and scared of thunderstorms.

“I love you so much, baby,” you murmur as you kiss the top of her head.

And in the hush of that hotel room, surrounded by the remnants of a celebration, you feel it — the profound, unshakable bond between mother and daughter. One that no wedding, no passage of time, not even the miles of growing up, can ever change.

-

The taxi pulls away from the curb, and you stand in front of your house, suitcase in hand, the night air brushing cool against your skin. The neighborhood is quiet, the kind of silence that seeps into your bones after a long trip. You unlock the door and step inside, greeted by the familiar hum of home—and the stillness that now feels a little too heavy.

You set your bags down by the door, slipping your shoes off as your gaze sweeps across the dimly lit living room. It should feel comforting to be home, but the silence echoes strangely. Maybe it’s the way the weekend had been so full of life, of laughter, of your daughter’s arms wrapped around you, her voice in your ear. Maybe it’s the realization that her wedding is only a week away. One week until she starts a new chapter—without you at the center of it.

You sigh, about to head to the bedroom when your phone rings. Your heart lifts the moment you see his name on the screen. Hyunjin. You answer with a tired smile. “Hey.”

His voice comes through warm and eager, “Are you home?”

“Yeah,” you say, confused but already softening.

“That’s great,” he replies, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Because I’m outside.”

“What?” But you’re already moving, already making your way back to the front door, heart kicking in your chest. You pull it open and there he is.

Standing on your porch in the glow of the porch light, hands in the pockets of his coat, smile stretched across his beautiful face. “Hi,” he says, gentle and breathless.

You don’t even think. You throw yourself at him and he catches you with a laugh, wrapping his arms tightly around you, the kind of embrace that grounds you instantly. Your face buries into the crook of his neck, and you breathe him in — warm and familiar, like something you've been missing without realizing.

Later, the two of you are curled up on the couch, mugs of coffee in hand, the glow from a single lamp painting the room in soft gold. You’ve traded your travel clothes for something more comfortable, and Hyunjin hasn’t left your side since you walked through the door.

“I brought you something,” he says with a spark in his eyes, reaching for the small box he placed on the coffee table earlier. You tilt your head as he opens it and pulls out two perfectly shaped mugs. The couple mugs you made together in his studio.

You take one gently, brushing your thumb over the glaze. His signature artistic touches are there—little swirling patterns on the handle, the bottom rim etched with a tiny heart. The craftsmanship is beautiful, but it’s the meaning that steals your breath.

“Hyunjin… they’re beautiful.”

He grins. “I know. You’re getting pretty good at this, you know.”

You raise a brow. “You’re just saying that.”

“No, I’m serious. You’re a natural.” He plucks your mug from your hand and places it beside its twin on the kitchen counter. “And I want you to keep them here.”

“Here?”

He shrugs, slipping his arm around your shoulders as he comes back to sit beside you. “Yeah. This is where they belong. With you.”

You blink at him, lips parting. He offers you a sheepish smile, like it’s nothing. But to you, it’s everything. You lean into his warmth, head resting on his shoulder as the steam from the coffee curls in the air between you.

“How was the trip?” he asks softly, his hand running gentle strokes up and down your arm.

You exhale slowly, gaze fixed on the steam rising from your mug. “It was fun. Loud. Chaotic. A little overwhelming.” You chuckle. “Tigerlily made me dance at a club. Can you imagine?”

He smiles into your hair. “I can. And I bet you were stunning.”

You laugh, shaking your head before your voice turns quieter. “But it wasn’t just the party. There was this moment… with Tigerlily. Just us, after everyone left. And in a week… she’s getting married. She’s starting her life.”

Hyunjin listens, pulling you closer, fingers lacing with yours.

“And when I came home… it just hit me. The silence. The shift. Like something changed and I didn’t realize how final it was until I walked in that door.”

He doesn’t speak for a moment, just lets you rest against him, his breath steady and grounding. Then he whispers, “It’s okay to feel that. Change is hard. Even good change. But it doesn’t mean you’re losing anything.”

Your throat tightens at that, your eyes stinging again, but not in a bad way.

Hyunjin lifts your hand and kisses your knuckles. “You’re not empty. You’re evolving. And I’ll be here. Through every version.”

You look up at him, heart aching in the best way. “You always know what to say.”

“I just say what I feel,” he says with a soft smile. “And what I feel is... I’m really glad you’re home.”

You press a kiss to his cheek, lingering there for a moment longer than you need to. “Me too.”

The soft lull of the evening hums in the background—rain patters lightly outside the window, and the room is quiet except for the gentle clink of mugs being set aside. You’re still nestled in Hyunjin’s arms when he tilts your chin up, searching your eyes. His thumb brushes across your cheek as he leans in to kiss you.

It starts slow—familiar and warm, like finding something you didn’t know you missed. But the way he presses into you speaks of how much he’s been holding back. You feel it in the way his hand cups the side of your face, in the way his lips part against yours, deeper, more certain.

“I missed you,” he whispers in between kisses. “So much.”

Your breath catches as his mouth moves again, softer now, teasing. “I kept thinking about kissing you like this…” His lips brush against yours again. “Touching you again…” Another kiss, slower this time, more drawn out. “And now I can’t stop.”

It’s dizzying—the way he says it, the way he shows it with every breath, every brush of his hands on your waist, your back, your hips. You clutch the front of his sweater, kissing him back just as fiercely, tasting the longing that matches your own. But as it grows, so does the awareness in your chest—the deep pull of trust, of something safe and real building between you.

You slow the kiss, your hands rising to cup his face, and you look at him—really look at him. His lips are swollen, eyes dark with affection and something more primal, but his expression softens when he sees the look in yours. “Hyunjin,” you breathe out. “Do you… want to stay over tonight?”

A silence settles for a moment, but only because he's searching your face for meaning. Then, the corners of his lips curl up into a gentle, knowing smile. “Yeah,” he says softly. “I’d really like that.”

He kisses you once more—slow, tender, unhurried now. Like he understands what this means. Like he’s willing to hold it all gently.vAnd in the safety of that moment, with his arms around you and the warmth of his smile pressed against your lips, you realize—Maybe it’s time. Not to rush. But to let yourself be loved.

-

The rain has settled into a soft rhythm outside your window, a hushed lullaby that fills the silence between you and Hyunjin as you lie tangled together in the quiet of your bedroom. The lights are dim, casting everything in amber warmth, and his body is curved around yours like he’s meant to be there—one arm draped across your waist, his fingers tracing absent-minded shapes along your hip. His voice is low and soft when he speaks. “It’s raining.”

You smile, your cheek pressed gently against his chest. “It was raining the night Tigerlily was born,” you murmur, nostalgia coating your words. “The heaviest rain I’ve ever heard. I remember thinking it was the sky weeping with joy.”

Hyunjin hums, brushing your hair back behind your ear as he listens. “Tell me everything,” he says quietly. “Tell me what it was like. Tell me about you. About the parts of you I haven’t met yet.”

You tilt your head slightly, meeting his gaze. He’s looking at you like he wants to memorize it all. So you tell him. About your favorite book as a teenager. About the first concert you ever went to. About how you decided to not go to university and went to auditions instead. About the coffee shop you used to write books in. About the day you found out you were pregnant and how you cried, terrified and overwhelmed but already in love. About how motherhood changed you. About how you still feel like that twenty-something girl sometimes—just trying to figure it out. He listens to every word, never interrupting, never pulling away. His fingers draw lazy circles on your arm, and you can feel the quiet weight of his attention.

You smile softly after a while, your voice dipping into playful territory. “So... do all of that make you rethink this? About me?”

He turns his face into your hair, chuckling. “It makes me love you more.”

And just like that, the moment stills. You shift to look at him, propping yourself up on your elbow as you search his face. “You said it,” you whisper, a bit stunned.

“I did,” he says, not missing a beat. His voice is calm but sure, eyes steady on yours. “I know we’re taking it slow. And I’ll go as slow as you need me to. But that won’t stop how I feel about you. I can’t help it.”

He reaches out, cradling your cheek in his hand. “I love you.”

The words land in your chest like a heartbeat. Warm and undeniable. And then he leans in, kissing you like he means it—with depth, with tenderness, with the weight of every quiet, growing feeling he’s been carrying since the moment he met you. His thumb strokes your cheek as your lips move together, and the sound of the rain outside continues like a hymn for something sacred blooming between you. In this moment, you believe him. You believe in this. You believe in love—again.

The rain is still falling outside, a soft, steady backdrop to the way his body settles closer, his hands moving over the curves of your waist, the dip of your hip. He kisses you again, deeper this time, and his hand slips beneath the hem of your nightdress, starting to inch it upward when you stop him with a quiet touch to his wrist.

“Wait,” you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hyunjin pauses instantly, eyes flicking up to meet yours, concern etching into his brows. “What is it?”

You swallow, your hand still wrapped gently around his wrist. “I’m not what you think I am,” you murmur, heart beating too fast. “I’m not young anymore, Hyunjin. My body’s not perfect. I have lines, softness, marks from time. I just—” You hesitate, searching for words. “I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

For a second, there’s only the sound of rain and your breath between you. Then he smiles. That beautiful, slow, devastating smile that always seems to unravel something inside you. He leans in, brushing a soft kiss to your lips, then your cheek, then your jaw.

“You think I don’t see you?” he says gently, voice low, threaded with something that feels close to awe. “I see all of you. I’ve seen you laugh, cry, carry the weight of the world with grace. I’ve seen you fall apart and still be strong. And you’re beautiful. So beautiful to me.”

Your chest tightens, something deep and old melting at his words.

Hyunjin lifts your chin so you’re looking at him, really looking. His gaze is steady, sincere. “Let me see you,” he says softly. “All of you.”

And with trembling breath, you nod. Your fingers let go of his wrist, and Hyunjin helps you out of your nightdress with patient care, not like he’s undressing you, but like he’s unveiling something precious. When you're bare beneath him, you brace yourself—but he only looks at you like you’re the most breathtaking thing he’s ever laid eyes on. His hands move gently over your skin, warm and grounding, and then he leans down to kiss you again—slow, deep, filled with everything words can’t hold.

In his touch, in his gaze, you feel it: desire, yes, but also reverence. Love. A quiet promise that he sees you—not just your body, but your story. Your soul. All of you. And to him, you are beautiful.

Hyunjin takes his time with you—like he’s memorizing every inch of your skin, every shiver and sigh. His lips meet yours in a deep, lingering kiss that makes your heart ache in the most exquisite way, and when he pulls back, he trails kisses along your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. Every touch feels like a vow.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, the warmth of his breath dancing over your skin. “I’ve dreamed about this. About you.”

His mouth moves lower, over the slope of your chest, down to the valley between your breasts, his hands cradling you gently as if you might break. He pauses just long enough to look at you again, like he wants to be sure you're still with him, still saying yes—and when you nod, he smiles and continues, kissing down your ribs, your stomach, slow and reverent.

He murmurs sweet things between kisses. “You don’t even know how you look to me,” he says, his voice hushed, like a secret he’s only brave enough to share now. “You’re out of this world. You’re art.”

When he reaches your hips, his fingers ghost over your sides, grounding and careful, his lips brushing the sensitive skin there. Then further—over your thighs, your inner thighs, where his kisses turn softer, slower, like he’s worshiping the very idea of you. And then, like a final act of devotion, he kneels and lifts your foot gently, pressing a kiss to your ankle, then to the inside of your calf, like there’s no part of you undeserving of love. You feel your breath catch in your throat. Not from arousal—though that coils steadily too—but from the overwhelming way he sees you. All of you. And still chooses to love every part.

As he makes his way back up to you, his eyes meet yours again, tender and warm. “I want to know everything about you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Every scar, every story, every soft place you’re afraid to show.”

And when he kisses you again, it feels like surrender—but the safe kind. The kind where you let yourself be seen and loved, completely.

Hyunjin flashes you a smile before he disappears between your thighs like he’s slipping into a world made only of you. His hands settle on your hips with a kind of tenderness that makes your chest ache, grounding you as his mouth begins its slow, deliberate worship on your pulsating cunt. Every flick of his tongue on your clit is thoughtful, every kiss between the folds is reverent. He’s not just trying to please you—he’s trying to learn you, to know you and you’re unraveling beneath him. But still, you’re quiet. Holding your breath. Biting your lip to keep any sounds at bay, your fingers curling into the sheets instead of his hair.

Hyunjin notices so he lifts his head, lips slick and eyes dark with adoration and something deeper—hunger, yes, but also love. “Why are you being quiet?” he asks softly, teasingly. “You think I don’t want to hear you?”

Your breath stutters as you look at him and he leans up just slightly, presses a kiss to your inner thigh. “Let them out,” he murmurs. “All those beautiful noises you’re holding back—I want to hear them. All of them.”

Your pulse thrums in your ears then he lowers himself again with a smile that’s both wicked and gentle. And when he starts again, landing his plush lips on your drenching core, slower this time, more insistent, you don’t hold back. And Hyunjin—he hums his satisfaction against your skin like it’s his favorite sound in the world.

It doesn't take long for Hyunjin’s skilled mouth to take you where you need to. You fall apart beneath him—trembling, gasping, your fingers tangled in the sheets as waves of pleasure roll through you. He doesn’t stop running his tongue between your wet folds until you’re completely undone, your body twitching with the aftershocks, your breath ragged and uneven.

Only then does he pull away, slowly, languidly, as if savoring the last taste of you. There’s a smug little smirk tugging at his lips as he rises, and the look in his eyes—it’s all heat and devotion, mischief laced with reverence.

You’re still catching your breath when he leans over you again, his mouth brushing yours. The kiss is unhurried, deep, and when your tongue meets his, you taste yourself on him—warm, intimate, dizzying. He groans softly against your lips. “Thank you,” he murmurs, voice low and wrecked. “For coming so beautifully like that for me.” His eyes flicker over your face, lips brushing yours again. “You taste so good, I already want another.”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh, your body still buzzing from the high, your fingers curling into his hair as you pull him in for another kiss, and you’ve never felt so wanted, so seen completely his.

After a while, Hyunjin sits back on his knees, eyes locked with yours, his breathing still uneven. Without a word, he reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head in one smooth motion. His skin glows under the soft light, golden and lean, the shadows carving definition along his chest, his arms, the delicate lines of muscle and bone that move with each breath. He watches you watch him, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his face as he unbuttons his pants, not rushed, letting every movement stretch, deliberate and teasing. Piece by piece, he undresses for you—until there's nothing left between you. Then he leans down, his hands bracing on either side of your body as he hovers over you once more, heat radiating from him as his bare skin meets yours. The sensation is overwhelming—startling in its intensity. Chest to chest. Stomach to stomach. Legs tangled and breaths mixing in the space between your mouths.

Your body arches instinctively, responding to the feel of him, the way he fits so perfectly above you. One of his hands strokes along your side, memorizing the lines of you with reverence. His voice is a whisper, brushing your ear as he lowers himself fully against you.

“There’s nothing in the world that feels better than this,” he murmurs, kissing your temple.

With that, he lets the moment settle around you like silk, like warmth, like something you never want to end. Then, your hands lift on their own, hesitant at first. Your fingertips trace the line of his collarbone, down the slope of his chest, across the gentle dip between his ribs. You feel the way his heart races beneath your touch, the way his muscles flex subtly as your fingers explore him. He watches you in silence, his gaze soft, his lashes lowering when your palm rests just over his heart. There’s a faint tremble in your voice when you whisper, “You’re so beautiful.”

His breath hitches. The smallest, most vulnerable sound. A shy smile curves his lips as he leans into your touch, eyes fluttering closed. “You really think so?”

You nod, letting your hand move lower—over the dip of his waist, the subtle trail of muscle that disappears beneath the sheets. “All of you. Every inch of you,” you murmur, and he exhales slowly, like he’s been holding his breath waiting to hear you say that.

Hyunjin kisses you again, and this time there's nothing tentative about it. It's deep, warm, and possessive—the kind of kiss that curls your toes and makes your body arch instinctively toward his. His hands roam, slow but confident and you gasp softly against his lips when his palm slides down your side, cupping the curve of your hip.

The kiss grows hotter with each passing second, his body pressing you further into the mattress. His breath is ragged when he finally pulls back, just enough to rest his forehead against yours. “Do you have any condoms?” he asks, voice low and husky with anticipation.

You’re still catching your breath, nodding slowly when he suddenly adds with a crooked smirk, “Not that I’m planning to give Tigerlily a younger sibling… not yet, at least.”

You let out a breathless laugh, the sudden flash of humor easing the last of your nerves. “Drawer in the bathroom,” you reply, voice soft but steady.

Hyunjin grins at you, a glint of fondness—and something deeper—shining in his eyes as he brushes your hair back from your face. “Be right back,” he says, and then he leans down, giving you one last kiss—sweet and slow, as if he doesn’t want to leave your lips even for a second—before slipping off the bed and disappearing into the bathroom.

Not long after, the bathroom light flicks off, and soft footsteps pad against the floor. You lift your head slightly as he returns, a quiet smile playing on his lips and a tenderness in his eyes that makes your chest ache in the best way. He walks over with the same graceful ease he always carries, but there's something else now—something deeper in the way he looks at you like he's seeing all of you, and wanting every piece. He sits on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. You hear the soft crinkle of the foil packet, that small sound somehow thunderous in the silence of the room. It makes your skin prickle with anticipation. You can’t see everything he’s doing, but you don’t need to. The intimacy of it, the knowing of what’s about to come, makes your breath catch.

When he finally turns to you again, Hyunjin shifts closer, slow and deliberate, his body warm as it presses into yours. He doesn’t rush. Instead, he leans in gently, one hand finding your cheek, fingers featherlight as they cradle your face. His thumb brushes your skin, and you feel the slight tremble in his breath as his forehead touches yours.

“Hey,” he murmurs softly, like you’re a secret he wants to keep safe.

You look into his eyes, and for a moment, there’s nothing else. Just you and him. Then, he leans in, kissing you with that same softness, his body melts into yours, skin to skin, the kiss deepening as his hand glides from your cheek to your waist, pulling you closer, anchoring you to him. Every inch of you fits against him like you were meant to be held this way.

And in that quiet, sacred moment, nothing else matters but the way he kisses you—as if he's telling you without words just how much he wants you, and how deeply he already cares.

Your fingers curl gently against the slope of his back as he settles between your legs, his body warm and familiar now, like something you’ve known all along.

Hyunjin nudges his nose against your cheek and murmurs, “I’m going to take it slow this time. Really slow.” There's a teasing glint in his voice, soft and sultry, and it pulls a quiet laugh from your throat.

“You say that,” you whisper back, voice already tinged with need, “but you never do.”

He grins, brushing a kiss along your jawline. “I mean it tonight.” And you can tell he does, not just in the way he speaks, but in the way he moves. He aligns his cock to your entrance and then he pushes his throbbing length into you slowly, carefully like he wants you to feel everything.

And you feel it, you feel all of it. Every inch of his hard length entering you, filling you, every breath, every shared heartbeat. The two of you let out a raw, satisfied groan at the feeling of being inside each other, at last.

The moment Hyunjin starts to move, it’s almost too much—the fullness, the stretch, the heat of his cock inside you. Your body reacts before your thoughts can catch up, instinctively tightening around him, your breath catching in your throat.

He lets out a guttural groan, dropping his forehead against yours. “You can’t do that,” he breathes, voice thick and frayed. “If you keep clenching like that, I’ll—” He swallows hard, eyes fluttering shut for a second. “I’ll embarrass myself.”

You try to bite back a smile, only half-successful. “Sorry,” you murmur, not sounding sorry at all.

His eyes open again, and there’s laughter there, but also something deeper—adoration, restraint, the ache of wanting to last. “This is our first time, let me make a good impression,” he playfully says, and then he kisses you again, slower this time—true to his word—as he begins to move with deliberate tenderness, making sure every second counts.

A moment later, Hyunjin moves within you in slow, deep rhythms—measured, reverent, like he’s savoring every second. His breath hitches now and then as he buries his face in your neck, whispering praise between kisses and sighs. “You feel so good,” he murmurs, voice rough with awe. “So warm, so perfect…”

Each word wraps around you, deeper than his touch. “I’m so lucky… to feel you like this. To have you like this.”

Then he leans back just enough to make you meet his gaze, his hand cradling the side of your face. And in that moment, you feel completely seen. Not just your body, but your soul. The walls you’ve built over the years, the scars, the quiet fears you’ve kept tucked away—he sees them all. And he stays.

A wave of emotion crashes over you so suddenly, so powerfully, it steals the breath from your lungs. Your lips part beneath his kiss, but your body trembles beneath the weight of feeling, and you can’t bring yourself to kiss him back.

Hyunjin notices and he pulls back immediately, concern etched across his features. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice soft and urgent. “Did I hurt you?”

You shake your head, eyes closing just as the first tears slip down your cheeks.

He stills completely, pulling out of you without hesitation, wrapping his arms around you as if he could shield you from whatever it is that’s hurting you. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, kissing the corners of your eyes, your cheeks, your jaw. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“You didn’t,” you choke out, your voice cracking around the lump in your throat. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Hyunjin pulls back just enough to look at you, brushing your hair out of your face, concern still dark in his eyes. “Then what is it?”

Your gaze locks with his, and for the first time, you let the fear rise to the surface. “I’m scared,” you admit, barely above a whisper. “Of this. Of you. Of what I’m feeling. It’s so much.”

He doesn’t say anything right away. He just wipes the tears from your cheeks with the backs of his knuckles, his thumb tracing along your cheekbone gently, grounding you.

You swallow thickly, your voice hoarse. “I don’t want to get hurt.”

At that, a bittersweet smile curves at the corner of his lips, his brows furrowing just slightly. He cups your face in both hands, presses his forehead to yours, and kisses you again—slow and full, the kind of kiss that says everything he can’t yet put into words.

When he finally pulls back, he whispers against your lips, “I'm not going hurt you. I promise.”

In his eyes, you believe him. You pull him close again, wrapping your arms around him, your fingers wrapping around the nape of his neck.

Hyunjin hesitates only a moment—watching your eyes, searching for the unspoken permission—and when he sees it, he slowly slips himself into you again and starts to move, his body rocking against yours in quiet devotion.

It’s different now. The fear is still there, but it no longer weighs you down—it lifts, transforms into something new, something freeing. With every slow thrust, every kiss that brushes your skin, you feel your heart split open, not in pain but in release, like something you’ve held too tightly for too long is finally being set free.

You let him in. You feel him. All of him. The weight of his body, the cadence of his breath, the way his heart stutters against your chest. And in the stillness between movements, in the soft moans and whispered names, in the curve of his mouth against your neck—you feel the truth of the connection between you. It’s real. You hold onto him tighter, not to cling, but to anchor yourself in this moment.

“I’m here,” he murmurs between kisses, like a vow. “I’ve got you.”

With one final, aching stroke, the pleasure builds, wraps around both of you until you fall into it together—his name breathless on your lips, your name a prayer on his. You come undone in his arms, and he follows, holding you like you’re something sacred. In the quiet after, as your bodies settle and your hearts slow, there’s no fear. His skin is warm, his arm wrapped protectively around you as you lay curled into his side, your leg tangled with his beneath the sheets. Your eyes flutter shut as you let yourself melt into him, cheek pressed to his chest where you can hear his heartbeat. It’s grounding, comforting like a lullaby made just for you.

“You okay?” he asks softly, voice raspy from the night but threaded with affection.

You nod against his chest. “More than okay.”

You sigh contentedly, letting yourself soak in the warmth of his body and the calm that settles between you. Nothing about this moment is rushed. Nothing about it feels unsure. It’s just you and him—bodies entwined, hearts open, quiet and full.

-

It's like the rain didn't happen last night as the sun is shining so brightly the next morning. You’re at the stove in your robe, humming to yourself as you flip a pancake, already plating the crispy bacon beside it when you hear footsteps shuffle in—slow, heavy, and unmistakably sleepy.

You glance over your shoulder just in time to see Hyunjin appear in the doorway, shirtless with the sheet from your bed still clinging to one shoulder like he didn’t bother shrugging it off. He’s rubbing his eyes and yawning, but that sleepy smile—so sweet and lazy—stretches across his face when he sees you. He walks straight to you and wraps his arms around your waist from behind, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“You weren’t in bed,” he mumbles, voice gravelly from sleep. “I woke up and you were gone. That’s not fair.”

You laugh softly, continuing to stir the eggs in the pan. “Someone has to make breakfast.”

“Wrong answer,” Hyunjin grumbles, pressing a kiss just below your ear. “I wanted morning cuddles.”

Before you can respond, he’s already turning you around gently and lifting you by the waist with ease. You let out a small squeal as he sets you on the edge of the kitchen island, your legs dangling off the side. He places his hands on the counter on either side of you, caging you in with that warm, sleepy grin on his face. You return the smile, wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders.

“Good morning,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a slow, soft kiss to your lips.

You kiss him back just as softly. “Good morning.”

His smile widens, and then he’s peppering your lips with quick, playful kisses—one after the other, barely giving you time to breathe between each one. You giggle, trying to squirm away, but his arms tighten around your waist and he buries his face in your chest with a content sigh. You rest your hand on the nape of his neck, holding him close, the warmth between your bodies matching the gentle golden light spilling through the kitchen window.

Hyunjin stays nestled against your chest for a long, comfortable moment before he lifts his head and looks up at you, eyes still sleepy but filled with something softer—something warmer. “So…” he starts, voice a little hopeful. “Can we finally take that trip together now?”

You let out a laugh, brushing your fingers through his hair. “Are you forgetting something?”

He blinks. “No?”

You tilt your head, raising an eyebrow. “The wedding is this weekend.”

Hyunjin pauses, then groans dramatically as he drops his head back against your chest. “Nooo, right. That.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you say, giggling.

He pulls back just enough to look up at you with a pout. “Okay but… hear me out. What if you just told her to push the wedding to next weekend instead?”

Your laughter echoes through the kitchen as you lightly smack his shoulder. “You want me to reschedule my daughter’s wedding so we can go on a trip?”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugs playfully. “Priorities.”

You shake your head, still laughing. “Anyway, as the mother of the bride, I’m only going to get busier this week with the final prep.”

Hyunjin groans even louder this time, letting his head fall against your shoulder like the world is ending. “Ugh. Being the best man sounded more fun in theory.”

You grin, wrapping your arms tighter around him. “You better take that duty seriously. Tigerlily will haunt your dreams if you mess it up.”

“She already does,” he mutters with a dramatic sigh.

You laugh again, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “You’ll survive. And once the wedding’s over…”

He perks up, eyes sparkling. “Trip?”

“Well, I was going to say...” you pause to pick up your mug of coffee, “coffee?”

Hyunjin gasps in delight as he sees the couple mugs you made filled with hot, steaming coffee. “Coffee first then the trip,” he murmurs with a grin as he picks up his mug.

Before taking a sip, he kisses you right then and there—soft and triumphant, like he’s already picturing you both somewhere far away, together.

-

You open the front door just as the cab pulls away from the curb, revealing Chris standing there with his suitcase in one hand and his daughter Riley beside him, hoodie pulled over her head, nose buried in her phone.

Chris offers you a tired smile, stopping right on the doorway to give you a quick hug. “Hey.”

You smile warmly, stepping aside to let them in. “Hey. How was your flight?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, brushing his hair back as he steps inside. “Fine. Long.”

You give him a knowing look—his eyes are a bit bloodshot and there’s a weariness in the way his shoulders slump—but you don’t push it. Instead, your eyes drift toward Riley, who’s still in her own world, thumbs tapping at her screen, headphones on.

“Riley,” Chris says with a light nudge to her shoulder. “Say hi.”

She looks up for the first time, pulling her headphones down just slightly. “Hi,” she mutters before stepping in and giving you a quick, one-armed hug.

You wrap your arms gently around her, unfazed. “Hi, Riley. Good to see you again!”

She nods and offers a polite smile before slipping past you, already pulling her headphones back on and wandering further inside, eyes back on her phone.

You glance at Chris with a knowing smirk, and he sighs. “Teenagers.”

“She’s grown up so much,” you say softly, watching her disappear into the living room.

Chris chuckles, dragging his suitcase the rest of the way in. “Yeah. She’s got that whole ‘too cool for life’ thing down to an art.”

You close the door behind them and gesture toward the hallway. “Come on in. I’ll show you both your rooms. You can rest a bit before dinner.”

Chris nods, rolling his shoulders. “Sounds good. Thanks for letting us stay.”

You glance at him with a playful look. “You’re still family, Chris. You don’t have to thank me.”

His eyes soften at that, and for a moment, there’s a quiet understanding that passes between you—years of history wrapped in a single look. “Still,” he says, “thank you.”

Later that afternoon, the house feels warm and quiet, filled with the subtle scent of fresh cookies and the soft clinking of mugs. You and Chris sit across from each other at the kitchen island, a plate of chocolate chip cookies between you and steaming cups of coffee in your hands.

“So,” Chris says, leaning back slightly in the stool, “you’re still making those cookies I like.”

You smile over your cup. “You think I made them just for you?”

“I choose to believe that,” he says with a grin before taking a bite.

You laugh softly, stirring your coffee. “How’s life back in the city?”

“Busy,” he answers, nodding. “The label wants to reissue an old Bang Theory album, so I’ve been working on it. Lots of meetings, a few studio sessions, lots of… nostalgia.”

You hum, intrigued. “That sounds kind of nice. Do you miss it?”

Chris considers the question for a moment, then shrugs. “Some parts of it, yeah. Others… not so much. Touring at this age isn’t as fun as it used to be.”

You chuckle. “Your back can’t handle the stage dives anymore?”

He snorts into his coffee. “Exactly. What about you? Still working on that book?”

You nod, your smile softening. “Yeah. Actually, I’ve been… into pottery lately.”

Chris pauses mid-sip, eyebrows lifting slightly before he nods. “New hobby, huh?” he chuckles, then takes another cookie. “Good for you.”

You both settle into a brief, comfortable silence before he glances up again. “So… rehearsal dinner. What should I expect?”

You perk up at that. “Oh! It’s at that restaurant by the garden terrace downtown. Casual but elegant. Lots of wine. Julian’s parents are hosting it.”

Chris nods, then takes a breath. “And… his family? What are they like?”

You give him a curious look. “Why? Are you nervous?”

“A little,” he admits, scratching the back of his neck. “I mean, I’m just… her dad. You know? Want to make a good impression.”

You lean forward, grinning. “Wait—you? Chris Bang, lead singer of Bang Theory, is nervous about meeting some suburban in-laws?”

He groans. “Don’t make fun of me.”

You laugh, then soften. “I’m not. I just think it’s sweet.”

He raises an eyebrow, mouth curling into a teasing smirk. “You calling me sweet now? That’s dangerously close to flirting.”

You roll your eyes and take a sip of coffee. “It’s called reassurance.”

Still smiling, Chris leans his elbows on the counter and looks at you. “So, what do you suggest? Show up in leather and play it cool?”

You grin. “I think just be yourself. You’re already charming and likable. You don’t even have to try.”

Chris watches you for a beat, and his smile turns just a little bit softer. “Thanks.”

You shrug, playful. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

“Oh, it’s already there,” he says, popping the last cookie into his mouth.

He takes a slow sip of his coffee, then lets out a deep sigh, tipping his head back slightly as if the weight of the world rests on his shoulders. “There’s just one problem, though.”

You glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

He gestures vaguely to the room upstairs where Riley is resting in Tigerlily’s old room. “Riley. She’s impossible. I swear, she’s glued to that phone like it’s a limb. I can’t get her to talk, help out, or even look up most of the time.”

You chuckle, resting your chin in your hand. “Classic teenager.”

He groans dramatically. “Yeah, well, classic teenager is driving me insane. I’ve tried being cool dad, strict dad, let’s-talk-about-it dad… nothing works. I need backup. I need you.”

You give him a slow, amused look over the rim of your mug. “You need me?”

He nods, with the exasperated sincerity of a man who’s been bested by a teenager. “I’m begging. Please. I don’t think she even knows we’re here. She could be texting someone in another dimension for all I know.”

Laughing softly, you set your mug down and lean back in your chair. “Chris, relax. I’ve got this.”

He narrows his eyes suspiciously. “You sound way too confident.”

You give him a sly smile. “Because I am confident. I know how to handle a teenager.”

He leans forward, elbows on the counter. “Okay, now I’m curious. What’s the game plan?”

You wink. “You’ll see. But let’s just say… I've got it.”

Chris lets out a chuckle, shaking his head. “God, I forgot how terrifyingly effective you can be.”

You grin at him. “Don’t worry. Just leave it to me.”

-

You walk quietly down the hallway and knock gently on Tigerlily’s old bedroom door, the one Riley is staying in now. After a brief pause, you push the door open to find her sitting cross-legged on the bed, phone in hand, headphones hanging loosely around her neck, her thumbs busy tapping away.

“Hey, Riley,” you say softly, offering a warm smile. “Just wanted to check in. Do you need anything? Snacks? Water?”

Riley barely glances up, her tone monotone. “I’m good. Thanks.”

You step inside anyway, gently closing the door behind you before crossing the room and sitting on the edge of the bed. “Okay,” you say, watching her fingers move rapidly across the screen. “Well, I just wanted to thank you for coming.”

At that, she shrugs, eyes still on her phone. “Well, my Dad made me come so...”

You chuckle, not offended at all. “That sounds about right.”

She lets out a small laugh—barely audible, but you catch it. You smile softly and add, “Well, thank you anyway. I’m really glad you’re here.”

Riley hums noncommittally, still not making eye contact, but you don’t push. You let a few seconds pass before casually continuing, “You know… I follow your Instagram.”

That gets her attention. She blinks and glances up at you, just briefly. “You do?”

“I do. You’ve got great style. I love your outfit posts—your mirror selfies are seriously top-tier.”

Riley raises an eyebrow, the corner of her lips twitching slightly. “Really?”

“Mm-hm. I like clothes too. Always have.” You lean in conspiratorially. “Wanna see my wardrobe?”

That’s when her eyes truly light up. She lowers her phone just a little, the blue glow no longer dominating her expression. “Wait, really? Like… now?”

You nod, grinning. “Of course. Come on. I’ll even let you try them on.”

Riley finally sets her phone aside, her posture shifting from uninterested to intrigued in seconds. “Okay… yeah. That sounds kind of cool.”

You stand and hold your hand out toward her. “Come with me then.”

You lead Riley into your wardrobe, flipping on the warm overhead lights as the space glows to life with rows of carefully organized clothing, shoes lined up like museum pieces, and soft fabrics hanging in every hue imaginable.

Riley’s eyes go wide. “Whoa…” she breathes, stepping in like she’s just walked into Narnia. “This is insane.”

You smile as you watch her scan the racks, fingertips grazing along silk, velvet, denim, and tulle. “Insane in the best way, I hope?” you tease, enjoying her wonder.

Every few seconds, she gasps or lets out a quiet “Oh my god,” especially when she stumbles upon something particularly glamorous or vintage. Then she freezes in front of a sleek black number with subtle rhinestone detailing and a high slit—one you’d worn to a fashion event years ago. “Wait. Is this the dress you wore to the Paris thing? I saw a photo on Pinterest. You looked iconic.”

You laugh, a little flattered she noticed. “That’s the one.”

“Can I… can I try it?”

You raise a brow. “Of course you can.”

In minutes, you’re helping her zip it up, smoothing the fabric against her frame as she steps in front of the mirror. It's uncanny how it fits her like a glove. She turns to the side, then full-on beams at her reflection. “I look like I’m about to get photographed on a red carpet.”

“You kinda do,” you say, snapping a few pictures of her with her phone as she poses, giggling in between.

Then your eyes catch on a lace-detailed dress with soft pastel floral prints hanging nearby. You pull it out, holding it up. “This one… I got it after doing a shoot for Italian magazine. They let me keep it. You’d look beautiful in this.”

Riley’s eyes widen with excitement. “Wait, can I try that one too?”

“Absolutely!”

She changes into it quickly, emerging like a flower blooming, delicate and glowing as she twirls in front of the mirror. She watches herself with awe, running her hands along the fabric.

“That,” you say, stepping behind her with a soft smile, “is the perfect dress to wear for the rehearsal dinner tonight.”

She stops spinning and looks at you through the mirror, eyes wide. “Wait, really? I can wear this?”

You nod. “Yes, you can. You’d make that dress proud.”

Without warning, Riley turns and throws her arms around you, hugging you tightly. “Thank you,” she mumbles into your shoulder. “Seriously. Thank you.”

You hold her close, smiling as your heart swells. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

Still wearing the dress, Riley continues combing through your wardrobe like it’s a treasure trove. Her fingers glide over hangers until she pauses in front of a garment bag tucked into the corner. It’s slightly dusted but clearly protected with care. “What’s this one?” she asks, curiosity peaking as she gently tugs at the zipper.

You turn just as she peels it open halfway, revealing the edge of intricate lace and delicate beadwork—ivory, timeless, unmistakable. It's a dress you wore when you got married to Chris, it's not even a designer piece, you bought it at a vintage shop in the city Chris’s band was touring in. The sight of the dress evokes the memories and it's so vivid as if you just pulled open a pandora's box. Your breath catches for a moment, your smile faltering just slightly. “Ah…” you walk over casually, your voice soft, “That one’s… it’s torn at the seam.”

Riley looks up at you with wide eyes, clearly still interested but sensing something in your tone. “Oh, okay,” she says, releasing the zipper and stepping back with respect. “Still looks really pretty though.”

You give her a gentle smile and nod. “It used to be.”

She shrugs and moves on to the shoes, gasping at a pair of jeweled heels. “These are insane!”

You wait until her attention is fully stolen by the footwear before stepping back to the corner. Quietly, you zip the bag all the way up, your fingers brushing over the fabric through the plastic. Then, with a soft breath, you tuck it further back into the closet, behind a row of coats. Hidden, again. Where it belongs.

You turn back to Riley with a smile as she holds up two pairs of shoes in each hand, debating which one to wear with the floral dress. “Help me choose?” she grins.

“Sure,” you say, walking toward her again, brushing the past off your shoulders like dust.

-

The sound of Chris’s voice echoes through the house. “Hey! Can I get some help here or am I tying this thing myself and risking public humiliation?”

You head toward his room, already dressed and putting on your earrings. As you enter, Chris turns around and does a once-over with an appreciative grin.

“Well, damn,” he says, eyes twinkling. “You clean up dangerously well.”

You wave him off with a roll of your eyes, “Focus. I’m here to save you from that crooked tie.”

You step in front of him, fingers deftly fixing the knot and as you do, you notice some silver hair on the side of his head. As you straighten the fabric, he tilts his head slightly. “How’s Riley?”

“Handled,” you reply with a pleased smile. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. She’s dressed, she’s excited, and she actually spoke more than three words.”

Chris looks genuinely impressed. “Miracle worker.”

Before you can respond, the soft clack of shoes against the stairs makes both of you turn. Riley steps down carefully, dressed in the floral lace dress you lent her, her makeup subtle and pretty, her hair styled loosely. She’s trying to play it cool, but her eyes are scanning for your reaction.

You gasp dramatically. “Chris. Look!”

Chris immediately joins you in the praise parade. “Oh my god. Is that my Riley bear?!”

Riley rolls her eyes, cheeks a little pink. “It’s just a dress, dad.”

You and Chris start clapping like over-enthusiastic parents. “JUST a dress? You’re glowing!”

Chris ruffles her hair, earning a swat, and you step in. “Okay, okay, hold still—give me your phone, Riley. We’re documenting this transformation.”

She reluctantly hands it over, trying not to smile. You snap a few photos of her, letting her pose. Then Chris steps in beside her, slinging an arm around her shoulder. “Come on, let’s show them where she got her style,” he jokes.

You take several adorable shots of the two of them, and when you lower the phone, Riley looks at you. “Now one with you.”

You blink, surprised. “Me too?”

Chris is already stepping behind the camera. “Come on. In you go.”

You move in beside Riley, wrapping an arm around her as she does the same. Chris captures a few shots, then Riley grins and pulls out her own phone. “Okay, selfie time.”

The three of you squeeze together—Riley sandwiched between her two very proud, very amused parents. The moment she taps the button, all three of you are laughing. Caught in the blur of joy and history and something that, just maybe, feels a little bit like family again.

“This is fun but we should go or else we'd be late for the rehearsal dinner,” you remind them as you grab your purse from the sofa.

The drive to the restaurant is lit with the golden hue of the setting sun, and the soft hum of the road beneath the tires fills the pauses between chatter. You sit in the passenger seat, Riley lounging in the back, headphones tucked away for once as the three of you settle into a rare moment of shared ease.

Chris glances over at you, tapping the steering wheel absently. “So, tell me again about Julian’s family. I need some common ground. I can’t exactly open with ‘Hi, I used to headline stadiums and wreck hotel rooms.’”

You smile. “Julian’s dad was a big-time broker. Wall Street type. Retired now, enjoying the fruits of his labor. They’re older than us by a good stretch.”

Chris exhales, visibly relieved. “Older is good. Older might think I’m mature by default.”

You chuckle. “They go on boat trips every other weekend. Sailing types.”

Chris nods, keeping his eyes on the road. “Boats. I can do boats. Talk about waves, sea breeze, sunscreen—yeah, I’ve got material.”

Then, with a hesitant glance at you, he asks, “Do they know about me?”

Before you can answer, Riley leans forward between the seats, totally deadpan. “You’re not that famous, dad.”

You burst out laughing. “She’s got a point.”

Chris’s mouth drops open in mock offense. “Excuse me?”

Riley shrugs, clearly enjoying herself. “I mean, unless they were obsessed with rock bands in the 90s… probably not.”

Chris pouts and glares at her through the rearview mirror. “You too, Riley?”

You reach over and pat his thigh consolingly. “She’s right. Julian’s parents don’t know about the world tour, the platinum albums, or... the groupies.”

Riley pipes up again, her voice playful, “You know, back when dinosaurs roamed the Earth.”

Chris groans dramatically. “Unbelievable. The women in this car are ganging up on me.”

You and Riley catch each other’s eyes and exchange a conspiratorial smile, both suppressing your laughter. “Better get used to it,” you tease, nudging his arm. “It’s a girls’ world now.”

-

The soft buzz of laughter and clinking silverware filters out from the warmly lit restaurant as you, Chris, and Riley step through the doors. It’s cozy and elegant, decked with white linens, twinkling fairy lights, and thoughtfully arranged floral centerpieces—Tigerlily’s touch, no doubt. The moment she spots the three of you, her face lights up, and she hurries over, Julian in tow.

“Mom!” she beams, throwing her arms around you, then turning to Chris. “Dad! You made it!” She gives him a long hug before pulling back to smile at Riley. “And Riley, you look amazing.”

Julian adds his own greetings, hugging you and Chris warmly. It’s all easy, affectionate, natural. But before Riley can slip away into the corner with her phone again, you gently nudge her forward and catch sight of Maude nearby, cheerful and stylish, and chatting to her girlfriend Alexa.

“Riley, this is Maude,” you say quickly, catching her before she can disappear. “She’s Julian’s sister and knows everyone here. Maude, could I ask you to keep her company?”

Maude grins. “Of course! Come with me, I’ll introduce you to the good mocktail table.”

Riley hesitates, but with a glance back at you—and maybe some hope at escaping parental banter—she follows Maude with a small, grateful nod. You watch her go, a little relieved, and then turn your attention back to the next task: Julian’s parents.

You and Chris approach them together. Julian’s father, dapper in a navy blazer, shakes your hand warmly. His mother, elegant and composed, greets you with a smile and a gracious air. You’re used to this, the polished rhythm of pleasantries, the light conversation about the venue, the weather, the flowers—but beside you, Chris is just slightly stiff, the way he always gets when he’s not sure of the social cues. He’s doing fine, polite and charming, but you can feel it—that slight lag in his rhythm, the way he hesitates before reaching for the wine glass, unsure whether to join in the toast or wait.

So you start guiding, gently, without calling attention to it. When a toast is offered, you clink glasses first so he knows it’s time. When Julian’s mother mentions their yacht trip, you slide in a prompt. “Chris is a fan of the sea too, aren’t you?”

He picks it up with a grateful smile, easing into the conversation. When there’s a lull, you fill it, helping him navigate the small talk minefield. You even whisper reminders now and then—a soft nudge about names or who’s married to whom.

Through it all, Chris stays close, often glancing at you with that familiar mix of gratitude and amusement. He leans over at one point and murmurs near your ear, “I’m way out of my depth here, you know.”

You smile without looking at him. “That’s why I’m here.”

Once Chris has finally found his rhythm with Julian’s parents, tou quietly slip away from the table. You spot him a few feet away, deep in conversation with Julian now—his brow slightly furrowed, his arms crossed, and that unmistakable dad energy radiating off him as he most likely doles out the classic father-of-the-bride threats in the nicest way possible. You chuckle quietly to yourself, amused by the sight. Poor Julian, you think.

At the bar, you thank the bartender as he hands you your drink. You bring the glass to your lips, letting the bubbles fizzle pleasantly on your tongue when a warm voice calls out your name, familiar and unmistakably fond.

“Wow,” Hyunjin breathes as he approaches, eyes shining with awe. “You look…” He pauses, head tilting slightly as his gaze travels from your hair down to your heels. “Beautiful doesn't even begin to cover it.”

You feel the warmth rush to your cheeks as he takes your hand gently in his, not caring if anyone’s watching, and with a playful smile, gives you a slow twirl. The hem of your dress flares softly around your legs as he drinks in the sight of you from every angle, murmuring a quiet, reverent, “Beautiful,” with each pass.

You let out a flustered laugh, brushing a hand over your flushed cheek. “You look gorgeous yourself,” you say, letting your eyes drift over his striped suit, perfectly tailored to his tall, lean figure.

He leans in, gaze flickering to your lips—but you catch him, palm gently meeting the center of his chest to halt him. “Not here,” you murmur lowly, glancing discreetly toward the direction of Julian’s parents. “And definitely not in front of Julian’s parents.”

Hyunjin frowns with a pout, clearly not satisfied with that response. “Then let’s sneak out. Just for a few minutes. I want to kiss you.”

You laugh under your breath, swatting at his chest playfully. “Behave,” you whisper, trying to reel him in. “You’ll cause a scene.”

Just then, a voice cuts in—deeper, familiar. “Who’s this?”

You both turn to find Chris standing a few feet away, his expression neutral but eyes sharp with curiosity. Your breath catches for a moment before you clear your throat and take a step closer to the two men.

“This is… Hyunjin,” you say, gently slipping your hand into Hyunjin’s. “He's the best man and... My boyfriend.”

It’s the first time you’ve said it out loud in front of Chris—and for the briefest moment, something shifts in his face. Just a flicker of something unreadable. Surprise, maybe. Something quieter, deeper. But just as fast, it’s gone.

Chris steps forward, extending a hand toward Hyunjin. “Nice to meet you.”

Hyunjin, ever polite, takes his hand with a firm shake. “It’s really nice to meet you, sir.”

Chris’ brows twitch upward at the sir, and the corner of his mouth quirks slightly. “No need for that. Just Chris is fine.”

Their handshake lingers just a second longer than it needs to, and even though no words are spoken in that pause, you feel it—the silent exchange of acknowledgment, respect… and perhaps a little wariness.

You hold your breath, watching the moment closely, your hand still lightly resting on Hyunjin’s arm. Then Chris releases his grip and offers a small smile. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says simply, looking at you.

And then, from across the room, Tigerlily calls for his dad. “Dad, come here,” she waves her hand in the air, gesturing him to come.

Chris flashes both of you a polite smile. “Sorry. Duty calls.”

As Chris walks off, Hyunjin watches him go, the corners of his mouth twitching up with amusement. As soon as Chris is out of earshot, Hyunjin turns back to you with a sly glint in his eyes, that playful smirk already forming.

“So,” he says, leaning in just enough to make your heart skip, “boyfriend, huh?”

You feel your cheeks heat immediately, your gaze flickering anywhere but his face. “Don’t start,” you mutter, attempting to brush him off—but that only encourages him.

“Oh no, I’m definitely starting,” he grins, eyes lighting up. “You said it so naturally, too. Just—‘this is my boyfriend.’ Like it was the most normal thing in the world.”

“Because it is,” you argue softly, trying not to smile.

He leans in again, voice low and teasing, “Yeah, but to your ex-husband?”

You swat at his arm, flustered and amused. “Shut up.”

He laughs, catching your hand in his. “I’m not judging. Honestly, I’m honored. Just… didn’t expect to be introduced that way tonight.”

You finally glance up at him, your expression softening. “I guess I didn’t either. But it felt right.”

Hyunjin smiles at that, his teasing nature giving way to something more genuine. He squeezes your hand, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. “Well,” he says, eyes sparkling, “for the record, I like being your boyfriend.”

You can’t help the shy grin that spreads across your face, and before you can say anything back, Hyunjin brings your hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles. “And I’m definitely not letting your ex-husband be the only man who’s crazy about you tonight.”

Everyone gradually finds their seats as the waitstaff begins to move through the room, setting plates and pouring water and wine. A soft hum of chatter surrounds the long table, silverware clinking, glasses being lifted in early toasts. The atmosphere is warm, glowing with low golden lights and quiet laughter. Then Julian stands, gently clinking his spoon against his glass to get everyone’s attention.

He clears his throat and glances down at Tigerlily, who looks up at him with a soft, expectant smile. “I’ll try to keep this short before I embarrass myself,” he begins, the room quieting. “But there’s no way I could go into this weekend without saying something about how thankful I am.”

He looks around the room—at his parents, at yours, at all the people seated at the table—and his voice wavers just slightly as he continues, “Tigerlily and I are really lucky. Not just to have found each other, but to be surrounded by people who love us, who raised us, and who’ve taught us what real love looks like.”

You catch Tigerlily’s face as he speaks—her lips pressed together, her eyes shimmering. She's trying not to cry, already reaching for the edge of her napkin. You smile gently, heart full and aching at once. When you glance to the side, your gaze falls on Chris. He’s uncharacteristically quiet, his expression unreadable, jaw slightly tense, eyes fixed on his daughter. You know that look. It mirrors something in your own chest—pride, joy, and that sharp, bittersweet ache that comes with letting go.

Without a word, you slide your hand beneath the table and find his. He immediately laces his fingers with yours, holding on so tightly like he’s anchoring himself to something real, something steady. He finally turns to look at you, his lips tugging into a small, tender smile. You return it with a soft one of your own, no words exchanged—just the silent, lifelong understanding of what it means to love someone so deeply and now watch them begin a life of their own.

Then, as if pulled by the same thread, you both look at Tigerlily. She’s laughing through her tears now, her hand on Julian’s arm, her eyes sparkling with happiness. She looks radiant. In love. Right where she belongs. And in that moment, hand in hand, you and Chris both realize—this is exactly how it's supposed to be.

-

A moment after everyone got home, the house has settled into a gentle hush. You peek into Riley’s room one last time, knocking softly before opening the door just a crack. She’s already tucked into bed, still scrolling on her phone, but she looks up at you.

“Need anything before bed?” you ask, keeping your voice low.

She shakes her head. “No, I’m good. Thanks.”

You offer her a small smile. “Alright. Goodnight, Riley.”

She surprises you with a quiet, “Goodnight,” and just as you’re about to close the door, she adds, “Thanks for today.”

Your heart warms at her honesty. “Anytime.”

You close the door gently and make your way downstairs to check in on Chris. You knock on his door, and his voice comes through, muffled but clear. “Yeah, come in.”

You open the door, only to be greeted by the sight of him in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants, barefoot, hair a little messy from travel. You let out an exasperated sigh and avert your eyes.

“Seriously? You could’ve told me you weren’t dressed.”

Chris glances up from his suitcase, entirely unfazed. “What? It’s not like you haven’t seen me naked before.”

You shoot him a glare. “That was years ago, Chris. Put on a damn shirt.”

He chuckles, clearly enjoying himself. “You knock, I answer. It’s not my fault you walked in without mental preparation.”

You roll your eyes. “Go to the bathroom.”

He gives you a slow, curious look. “Why?”

You hold up the dye kit in your hands. “Bathroom. Now.”

Chris groans as he drags himself off the bed. “Seriously? What’s wrong with silver?”

“Tigerlily will scold you if she sees those roots showing,” you say as you guide him toward the bathroom. “And it’s not a crime to look your best at your daughter’s wedding.”

He mutters under his breath but follows you anyway. Minutes later, he’s seated on a stool by the sink, a towel draped around his shoulders as you brush the dark dye through his hair with careful hands. “This feels like punishment,” he mumbles.

You nudge his forehead. “Stop moving.”

He grumbles but stays still. The silence settles in comfortably between you, only broken by the soft sound of the brush through his hair and the tap dripping behind the sink. After a while, the dye sets, and you gently guide his head back over the sink to wash it out. Water flows over his scalp as your fingers move through his hair, rinsing with care. His voice comes low, soft under the rush of water.

“I still can’t believe our little girl is getting married tomorrow,” he says, his gaze distant as it rests on the ceiling. “I feel like I blinked and she grew up.”

You pause for a moment, then resume gently rinsing. “She’s still our little girl, Chris.”

“Yeah,” he breathes. “But I missed so much. And now I feel like I’m scrambling to catch up.”

You turn off the water and begin patting his hair dry with a fresh towel, eyes on your hands as he keeps speaking.

“I didn’t always get things right,” he admits. “There are a lot of things I’d do differently now.”

You look down at him—his head still leaned against the edge of the sink, eyes searching yours with something unspoken swimming just beneath the surface. Regret. Grief. Maybe love. You feel your chest pull tight, so you look away before it reaches too far inside you. “What matters is you’re here now,” you say softly, tucking the towel around his shoulders. “That’s what she’ll remember.”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just looks up at you with a kind of quiet intensity that makes your breath catch. You clear your throat and gently step back.

“Dry your hair. Don’t stay up too late.”

He’s still watching you, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yes, ma’am.”

You stop in the doorway and glance back at him, one hand on the frame. “Goodnight, Chris.”

“Goodnight,” he replies, voice low but warm, towel in hand, heart in his eyes.

You slip out of the room, closing the door gently behind you, the silence folding around you like the echoes of something once familiar.

-

The late afternoon sun dips low in the sky, casting a golden glow across the garden as soft chatter floats through the air. The scent of fresh roses and blooming lavender perfumes the breeze, and strings of fairy lights hang from the trees, gently swaying. Everything feels like a dream, a romantic still frame of the perfect moment. You sit on your seat on the bride’s side, nestled between rows of white chairs, surrounded by family and friends dressed in soft pastels and summer suits. The aisle is a winding path lined with petals, leading toward a floral arch that frames the altar, and beyond it, the endless sky.

Julian stands at the front, fidgeting with his cufflinks and taking anxious glances down the aisle. He looks more nervous than you’ve ever seen him, his mouth pressing into a tight line as he shifts his weight from foot to foot.

Beside him is Hyunjin, the best man, looking entirely too composed in his sleek black tuxedo. The sunlight catching on his cheekbones like it’s trying to show off for him. He catches your gaze and grins, eyes sparkling.

“You look beautiful,” he mouths, followed by a playful wink.

You feel your cheeks warm as you shake your head at him with a smile, mouthing “Behave.”

Then the music shifts. The gentle notes of the string quartet swell as the bride chorus begins to play. Everyone rises from their chairs. You stand too, breath caught in your throat, eyes fixed on the archway at the start of the aisle.

And then she appears. Tigerlily. Your baby girl. She walks out slowly holding a bouquet of Tiger Lilies, her arm tucked into Chris’, the train of her dress sweeping across the grass. The sunlight catches on the delicate beading of her gown, making her shimmer like something out of a fairytale. Her face is radiant, cheeks flushed, eyes glistening with emotion. You almost lose it. You feel tears prick your eyes, the kind that tug at your soul and make your heart swell with pride and nostalgia all at once.

Chris walks beside her, steady but quiet. His smile is soft, but you know him too well—you see the storm behind his eyes. You know it’s taking everything in him not to crumble. He looks like he’s walking her toward the end of something, not the beginning. Like letting her go is breaking him in the most quiet, graceful way.

They reach the front. Chris lifts her veil and kisses her forehead, saying something that makes her smile through her tears. Then, with a deep breath, he takes her hand and places it in Julian’s. You watch that exchange, your heart clenched and full.

Chris walks over to you and takes the seat beside you. He doesn’t say anything at first, just exhales like he’s been holding his breath the entire walk. “She looked like you,” he whispers, voice low and full of everything he’s feeling.

You smile through your tears. “No. She looked like her own.”

And together, you both turn your eyes toward the altar, watching as your daughter—glowing, loved, fearless—stands at the beginning of her forever.

The ceremony unfolds like a dream under the soft golden hour light, with the gentle rustle of leaves and the occasional chirp of birds punctuating the vows. Julian’s voice wavers slightly as he speaks his promises, and Tigerlily’s hand trembles in his—but she’s glowing, absolutely glowing. And when it’s her turn to speak, her words are steady and full of warmth, brimming with all the love she’s always carried in her heart.

You catch Hyunjin stealing a glance at you from across the aisle, and your heart stumbles a little. He doesn't smile this time—not fully. His gaze is calm and steady, almost reverent. Like he's seeing not just you, but the idea of forever with you. Like this moment, this ceremony, is a mirror of something he imagines for the two of you someday.

You glance down, the thought so sudden and visceral that it lodges itself deep in your chest. When you look up again, he’s still watching you. Still quietly imagining that future. But then your attention shifts—to your right, where Chris is sitting still, his hands folded tightly in his lap. His jaw is clenched, eyes glassy, blinking fast to fight the tears. You nudge him lightly with your elbow and lean in.

“You’re crying,” you whisper, teasing gently.

“I’m not,” he mutters, voice thick.

You smile at him, your heart aching in the softest way. You reach out your hand, palm up, inviting. He hesitates for a second. Then takes it. And just like that—your hand in his, Tigerlily’s laughter ringing through the garden as she slides a ring onto Julian’s finger, and Hyunjin's eyes still quietly resting on you across the aisle—it feels like everything has aligned. The past, the present, and the future, all suspended in this one, perfect moment.

Chris squeezes your hand once, tightly, and doesn’t let go until the officiant finally announces: “You may now kiss the bride.”

The guests erupt into applause and joyful cheers, but you stay there, sitting side by side with Chris, hands linked. And somewhere in the space between it all, you find peace. And hope. And the fragile, blooming warmth of something just beginning.

-

The sky has shifted into deep lavender, strings of fairy lights twinkling above the garden as the celebration comes alive with soft music, clinking glasses, and laughter echoing between tables. Tigerlily and Julian share their first dance beneath the glowing canopy, their movements slow and tender, like time has slowed just for them. You watch them with your hand over your heart, your emotions still tangled between pride and awe and that bittersweet ache of letting go.

As their dance ends and the applause fades, you feel a familiar hand reach for yours. Chris gives you a little smirk, bowing with exaggerated flair. “May I have this dance?”

You roll your eyes but slip your hand into his anyway. “You may.”

He leads you onto the dance floor as another slow song begins, his hand settling naturally at your waist, your other hand clasped in his. The rhythm is familiar. Easy.

“She really went and married him,” Chris says after a beat, watching Tigerlily and Julian mingling through the crowd.

“She really did,” you say, smiling.

He sighs dramatically. “Still can’t believe that kid had the nerve to steal my little girl from me.”

You laugh, full and bright. “Chris, she’s not ten anymore.”

“She’s still my baby.”

“She still is. Just… someone else’s baby now too,” you tease, giving his shoulder a little squeeze.

He shakes his head like he can’t stand it, and you soften your smile. “You should move on already.”

“Oh yeah?” he challenges.

You tilt your chin and gesture across the dance floor to where Riley is laughing with Maude, her whole face lit up. “You’ve still got one more daughter to walk down the aisle.”

Chris groans, loud and dramatic. “I’m locking her in the house. She’s never dating. Not on my watch.”

You swat his chest lightly. “Be serious!”

“I am serious.”

You pull back just enough to look him in the eyes and say, “Go ask her to dance.”

He raises a brow. “Right now?”

You give him a gentle push in Riley’s direction. “Yes. Go on, before someone else steals her first dance from you too.”

Chris grumbles, but he grins as he lets you go and heads toward Riley. You watch as she lights up, surprised and a little embarrassed, but delighted all the same as Chris bows again and takes her hand like he did yours. You're smiling as you watch Chris spin Riley into a laugh, the two of them dancing under the soft garden lights like time had rewound just for them. But then—

Strong, familiar arms slide around your waist from behind, and before you can turn, Hyunjin’s voice hums by your ear, low and mischievous. “Excuse me,” he murmurs, “but I believe it’s my turn.”

You barely have time to catch your breath before he spins you into the middle of the dance floor with a dramatic twirl. You laugh, the sound spilling from your chest like it’s made of air and starlight. “Hyunjin—!”

“Shhh,” he grins, pulling you in until your body fits perfectly against his. His hand holds yours firmly, his other palm resting warmly on your lower back. “Let me have this.”

You feel his breath brush your cheek as he leans in, nose nearly touching yours. “I want to kiss you.”

You dart your eyes around, heart hammering. “Not here. Not in front of everyone.”

His lips brush against your temple instead, soft and electric. “When can I kiss you then?” he murmurs into your skin, voice playful but laced with heat.

You fight your smile and reply with a teasing lilt, “Well... Not now.”

Hyunjin chuckles, and with a wink, he twirls you again, the hem of your dress fluttering like petals in bloom. When you spin back into his arms, he pulls you even closer—so close that your chest presses flush to his, your breath caught somewhere between your ribs and his heartbeat. “I’m done waiting,” he whispers against your ear, his voice deep and full of longing. “Come with me.”

Before you can answer, his fingers lace through yours tightly, and he tugs you gently away from the celebration. Past the tables, past the strings of lights, past the slow dancing and laughter. Into the quiet, into the night, into something only the two of you can name.

-

The laughter and clinking of glasses fade into a distant hum as Hyunjin leads you between the tall, leafy hedges lining the garden's edge. The lights from the celebration barely reach this far, just a soft golden spill through the leaves as if the night itself is conspiring to give the two of you this moment.

And then he’s on you. His lips crash into yours like he’s been holding back all evening. Hands cradling your face, he kisses you again and again—urgent, breathless, hungry. Only when your hand comes up to rest against his chest, a gentle push for air, does he finally pull away, panting softly as his lips trail down to your neck. He kisses along your pulse, over the delicate skin just under your jaw, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Hyunjin,” you murmur, breath catching.

He finally stops, brushing a few strands of hair from your face as he cups your jaw with both hands. His eyes are crinkled with a soft smile, tender and dizzyingly full of emotion. “The next wedding,” he says quietly, “is going to be ours.”

You freeze for a beat, heart leaping and stumbling all at once. “Hyunjin…”

“You must think that I’m like most guys who dates for fun, huh?” he asks gently, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “I don’t do that. I’m dating you because I want to be with you. I want… this. You. Forever.” His voice isn’t rushed. It’s not pleading. It’s just steady, like it’s the most obvious truth he’s ever said.

You feel a mix of things rise up in you—warmth, affection, fear, disbelief. The way he says it, so certain, so casually serious—it makes your chest tighten. “We agreed to take it slow,” you remind him softly, not out of rejection, but to anchor the moment.

“I know,” he whispers, his thumb now gliding over your lower lip. He leans in and kisses you—just a featherlight touch. “And I will. I’ll wait as long as you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

Another kiss follows, this one deeper, slower, like a vow made without words. When he pulls back, he grins with a twinkle in his eye and murmurs, “But… maybe don’t take too long. I’m dying to see you in a wedding dress.”

You roll your eyes with a breathless laugh, shoving lightly at his chest. “Hyunjin…”

He smiles, presses one last kiss to your forehead, and whispers, “I mean it.”

Hidden within the tall shrubbery, Hyunjin crashes his lips on yours again, slower this time—his lips moving with a kind of reverence that makes your chest ache. You sink into him, your hands curling into the lapels of his suit as his arms wrap tightly around your waist, anchoring you to him like he can’t bear to let go. His kiss deepens, coaxing soft sighs from you, and you feel his fingers sliding into your hair, cradling the back of your head as if the world outside this hidden place doesn’t exist.

And then you hear the crowd erupts into cheers, and from the distance, a familiar sound blares through the night air—the unmistakable opening chords of a Bang Theory classic.

You freeze against Hyunjin’s mouth. He stills too, forehead pressing lightly to yours. “Is that…” he breathes, blinking in disbelief.

“Yup. That’s Chris and his band.” You laugh under your breath and grab Hyunjin’s hand. “Come on.”

He doesn’t hesitate, just lets out a chuckle and runs with you. The two of you tumble out from the hedges like teenagers sneaking out of detention, laughter bubbling between you as you dash back toward the celebration. Lights twinkle overhead, the night air is pulsing with music and nostalgia, and your heart pounds—not just from the running but from the moment you just shared, and the one you’re about to run into.

As you round the corner and reenter the garden’s glow, the music is in full swing, and there he is—Chris on stage, guitar slung over his shoulder, grinning like the rockstar he once was and always will be.

Hyunjin leans in close as you both slow down and catch your breath, his hand still wrapped around yours. “I can’t believe your ex-husband is literally the entertainment,” he says, wide-eyed.

You nudge his side, laughing. “Welcome to my life.”

-

The garden is alive with music, lights twinkling like stars overhead, and the unmistakable sound of The Bang Theory floods the air—loud, raw, and full of heart. People are on their feet, clapping and dancing, and you’re still catching your breath when you spot her—Tigerlily, radiant even under the stage lights, her veil slightly askew as she laughs with Julian by her side.

You weave through the crowd and reach for her hand. “Come on!”

She looks at you, confused for a beat, but then you’re both swept into the music, jumping and dancing like you used to in the side of the stage when she was still small enough to ride your hip. Chris stands center stage, belting out the lyrics with the same fire he had back in the day, but his eyes? They’re all on Tigerlily.

It hits you like a wave. You remember those afternoons when Tigerlily was still tiny, running around barefoot on studio floors while the guys messed with chords and amps—Chris tuning his guitar while she banged on the nearest drum like she belonged there. She did belong there. That loud music, that messy chaos—it was the soundtrack of her childhood. And now here she is, in a wedding dress, jumping and dancing to her father’s band like she used to before she even knew what weddings were.

You and Tigerlily scream the chorus together, laughter spilling out of both of you, your hands joined as you spin her around. Chris catches the moment from the stage—his grin faltering just enough for a shimmer of emotion to shine through before he launches into the next verse like the proudest dad in the world as Tigerlily dances to the soundtrack of her childhood on the very night she’s stepping into her future.

The music is pulsing through the garden like electricity, laughter and cheers erupting louder with each beat, and Chris is thriving in it—completely overtaken by the high of the moment. He’s grinning ear to ear, sweat glistening on his forehead as he shreds through the final chords, nodding his head in rhythm, his whole body moving like he’s twenty-five again and headlining a stadium.

“This one’s for you, my little cub, my Tigerlily!” he shouts into the mic, pointing directly at her with a wild gleam in his eyes.

The crowd erupts. Tigerlily throws her arms up, shouting back, “I love you, Dad!”

And that’s when Chris—caught in the euphoria, lost to the beat and the cheers—does the unthinkable. He backs up two steps, pumps his arms like a stage diver prepping for flight, and with the agility of a man who should not be this agile anymore, he launches himself forward into a full somersault on stage. Gasps ripple through the crowd. Time slows. He flips. He rotates. He almost nails it—

But then, his boot catches something—maybe a coiled cable, maybe the corner of a pedal—and the landing doesn’t come. Not properly.

There’s a loud, crack of his foot slipping. A snap of something else. His arms flail mid-air.

And then—

THUD.

Chris faceplants off the stage with a dramatic, unforgiving crash. The mic hits the ground with a screech. His leg still tangled in the cable. A drink spills nearby. The music cuts out mid-note. The garden is dead silent. Everyone freezes. Mouths open. Eyes wide. And Chris… doesn’t move.

-

The sky starts turning that lazy shade of early evening gold when you pull up to the driveway. The tires crunch softly against the gravel and when the engine cuts off, silence settles for a beat before your phone starts ringing. You grab it from the passenger seat without even checking—some habits are muscle memory by now.

“Hi, Mom,” Tigerlily chirps, her voice crackling slightly through the speaker. “Just landed. It’s sunny. I can smell coconuts.”

You smile as you push open the car door and sling your bag over your shoulder. “You two made it?”

“Mhm. Luggage in tow, no delays, miracle. What about you? What are you up to?”

“Just got back from driving Riley to the airport,” you say, juggling the keys as you step onto your porch. The lock clicks under your hand. “She couldn't stop thanking me for the dress.”

“That’s good,” Tigerlily says. “How’s Dad?”

You step inside the house, voice softening as your eyes land on him right where you left him—stretched across the sofa, casted leg propped stiffly on a pillow, laptop on his lap, the crutches standing by next to the sofa. He’s scowling at the screen, probably editing something with the same intensity he once reserved for writing songs about heartbreak.

“He’s fine,” you say as you shut the door behind you. “Still alive. Still... working.”

Tigerlily hums. “I’m not that worried. He’s with you.”

You pause for half a second, just long enough to let that sink in before you shake your head and move toward the kitchen. “Don’t start. Just enjoy your honeymoon.”

“Okay, okay. Love you and send my love to dad. Bye!”

“Love you, cub,” you murmur before the call drops.

You fill a glass of water at the sink, and behind you, you hear the faint shuffle of headphones coming off. “Hey,” Chris calls, voice hoarse like he hasn’t spoken all day. “How was Riley?”

“She’s good. Boarded safe,” you say, turning with the glass in hand. “Oh, and Tigerlily sends her love.”

You lean against the counter. He looks at you from the couch, hair a little messy, turning curly from the humidity. The house is quiet in a way it hasn’t been for days. You take a sip of water, your eyes meeting his across the space.

“So, Chris,” you say, tilting your head. “What do you wanna do now that it’s just the two of us?”

-

✨ Evermore: Chapter II is available on my Patreon ✨

Please support my writings by kindly reblog, comment or consider tipping me on my ko-fi!

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[a-shakespearean-in-paris]

I want to teach English in Europe but I also want to get my PhD ya feel me

[lustlovehart]

Hiii! I've never done this before but... What if Scara and reader had a fight... Like a fight fight... and reader was seriously injured due to him being blinded be emotions... What do you think would the aftermath of this...?

A/n: Yet again, another ask that i was originally gonna js give a short thought to, turned into something longer *sigh* (I need to stop doing this).

Summary: [Angst/Comfort ] He could never say sorry, even in the moments it mattered.

Warnings: Harm to reader, Scars, Unrealistic Writing of getting hit with lightning

During his time in the fatui, no one exactly had the galls of stopping his rampages. The balladeer is quite famed for his regular intervals of anger, you’re no stranger to it yourself, you’ve seen him mad. it’s just…

Hes never been angry towards you.

You’d get the occasionally scoff every now and then if you uttered something he found foolish, but never has he lashed out at you to such a degree. Not to this level. He’s painfully reminded by his ignorance as soon as his hand crafted eyes lay sight upon your bare form, a body, a human body, covered in scars from lightning. Lightning he inherited, lightning he engaged, lightning he struck you with.

There’s no doubt, the silence is defeaning while you sit with him in the empty room, waiting for one of the medical professionals in the fatui to check on you.

He’s silent. It’s rare. He’s never been quiet for more than 5 minutes with you. He’s either complaining or attempting to make small talk a vast majority of the time, typically the former. But he doesn’t, he doesn’t even stare at you like he always does. You’re about to break the silence before the harbinger breaks it for you.

“You don’t look okay.” He doesn’t look at you, his vision trained on the white tile at his feet.

“Yeah. you struck me with lightning.”

…

“oh.”

It doesn’t hit you until he releases a quiet ‘oh’ from his mouth. Something you probably know better than anyone else that has been on teyvat within his 500 year lifespan.

This man can not say sorry.

“oh? Oh? Kunikuzushi put your pride away for one second.” you don’t try to hide the frustration in your voice. You truly did not mind the eccentricities the puppet in front of you holds, you never did, not even when you first met him.

He still doesn’t answer but you can see the way his face winces and widens in the same moment. Seems he got way too accustomed to ‘Kuni’ and ‘Scara’ to remember that you do in fact remember his given name.

“What else should I say to you? I’ll strike harder next time?” He isn’t getting mad, he was only infuriated earlier, but not now. You can see his demeanor start changing. Whether it be in the direction you want it to go, you’re not sure yet.

“Maybe a sorry? An apology? A “oh forgive me [Name] I love you so much?” He doesn’t answer you, he only scoffs and fall back onto the back of his chair. You don’t miss the way his fingers dig into the cloth of his clothing, probably using it as a replacement for human skin.

The man can’t breathe, but you can hear him inhale and exhale before his next words.

“i don’t know what happened. I didn’t mean to- well not at you.” It comes out softer than the other words hes said to you the entire period of time in the room. His eyes are finally off the floor, trying their best to maintain contact with your own.

Once again, all thats left between the space of you two, is silence. You look away from him for a moment, fiddling with the blanket draped over your legs. You’d like to assume that’s the closest you’ll get to an ‘I’m sorry from him’, but you can’t accept that, so you don’t reply. Ever since waking up, you never were able to see the scars on your body, only the ones on your arms. You wonder if they look hideous.

Your hand reaches behind you to your back, your fingers grazing whatever part you assume suffers scarring.

“Are you worried about how it looks?”

“No, not at all, fighting is commonplace in the fatui.”

“Lying isn’t good, you told me that yourself didn’t you?” Damn him and his pristine memory. You can never remember where you leave your keys yet he can remember things you’ve said to him years ago?

…

“No matter how scarred and beaten you are you’re still [Name] are you not?” With the way he’s looking at you, you’re sure this is another thing he’d want to keep out of the publics knowledge. “Even without your face i’d strike someone down for you in an instant.”

“Oh like you did to me?”

“…” Seems the sweet moment was ruined. You don’t mind though, it’s funny to you.

The weeks that followed still held some tension. You’d refused to see him for awhile. When asked by some trembling lower subordinate, one in which the harbinger had personally sent, why you weren’t seeing him, your reply made the soldier fear for his own downfall.

“He’s insufferable right now. I’ll talk to him when he shows me he’s not a man child who can’t admit his faults.” You’ve always been able to put up with his outbursts, but right now, you realize maybe you should turn up your attitude with him.

After that unfortunate event, not unfortunate for you, for the fatuss, your days have seemingly been more dull. You’ve forgotten just how eccentric the balladeer is. Waking up never seemed so boring, the puppet would either be by your side in the early mornings, or knocking on the door ready to whisk you away.

Seems that routine is coming back.

“Oh? Have you finally swallowed your ego-“

“I’m sorry.”

Seems he couldn’t go any longer without you, how sweet.

Tagging this, I was super confused if this could be characterized as angst w/ comfort or fluff. I just did both though.

[jenoroyals]

Cigarettes After Sex - Lee Jeno

pairing : jeno x fem!reader

synopsis : Starting your first year of college in a different country was exciting to you. Everything fell into place - your roommate, your friends, and even your apartment. The only thing that didn’t was Lee Jeno - your roommate’s boyfriend’s best friend.

word count : 17.7K words

content/warnings : college au!, fluff, angst, strangers to lovers?, one bed trope, smoking usage, heavy drinking usage, cursing, cheating (not jeno or mc), perv!jeno, semi sexual content, etc.

featuring : yunjin (lesaraffim), mina (former gugudan), jaemin (nct), mark (nct), haechan (nct), renjun (nct), chenle (nct), jisung (nct), giselle (aespa), & shotaro (riize).

During your childhood you dreamed of growing up, being on your own and going out was all you’ve ever wanted. Hearing stories from your older relatives about how wild they were in college just made it more severe.

“Yn? What college are you thinking about?” Your older sister asks.

You think for a moment before replying. “Well, I was thinking of Seoul National University.” You say and she furrows her brows.

“Well, that’s far from home.” She says, staring at you.

“I know but they have a great nursing program.” You defend while looking at her.

“Schools around here have great nursing programs too.” Your sister argues and you shake your head.

“Not like the one over there.” You say and she sighs defeatedly.

“Can you even speak the language?" Your sister asks and you nod your head.

“Yes, I took classes all throughout high school. I’m basically fluent.” You say and she scoffs lightly.

“Nerd.” She says and you slap her arm. “Hey!” She laughs and looks at you before getting serious again.

“Have you talked to mom and dad?” She asks and you shake your head no.

“I’m pretty sure they won’t mind.” You say and look at her before getting up. “I might not even get accepted. I’m still thinking about what colleges to apply to.”

“Well, as your older sister, I don’t want you to go that far. But, I know that you’ve always taken your education seriously, so if that's where you want to go, then you should apply.” Your sister says and you snort.

“I was going to anyway.” You say with a roll of your eyes, jokingly.

She pushes your shoulder and mumbles “Whatever.” before walking out of your room with a laugh.

You walk over to your computer and start looking at the application to SNU. Sighing, you click on the application and start typing in your information. “Let’s hope.”

You smile thinking about that memory while packing your bags. Tomorrow, you’ll leave your hometown and go to South Korea.

“Are you excited?” Your mom asks while zipping up one of your luggages.

“Yeah I am.” You say and she smiles while looking at you.

“Is your roommate nice?” She asks and you nod with a smile.

“Yeah, we’ve been talking a lot lately. She seems nice.” You say and your mom asks for her name.

“Yunjin. She was born in Korea but moved to New York when she was little.”

You were online looking at the dorms, hoping to find a suitable roommate when an ad listing popped up. Curiously, you clicked on it and found a girl named Yunjin who was looking for a roommate to help pay for her apartment. She looked nice and the apartment was close to the university.

Hesitantly, you clicked on the apply button and started reading the conditions before applying. You were sure that you could pay for half of the rent with your card. Your parents were both brand owners so money wasn’t an issue.

The next day, you received an email saying that she would be glad to have you as a roommate and that's when a new friendship formed.

Your mom nods her head and starts running her hands through your hair. “I’m gonna miss you.” She says and sniffles which causes you to turn around.

“Mom, don’t cry. I’ll be okay, I promise.” You say to her and hug her.

“I know you will, I’m just gonna miss my baby.” She says and you coo at her.

“I’m okay.” You mom says and pulls away while wiping her eyes.

“Now finish packing up. I’m going to start preparing dinner.” She says and walks out of your room.

You sigh and grab your phone, looking at the messages you received.

facetime? - yunjin

You quickly type a response before you get an incoming call from her. “Hello?” You ask while placing your phone on your vanity.

“Hi! I’m so excited to move in and finally meet you in person.” She says and you laugh while packing away your accessories.

“Me too! I can’t believe we’re finally going to meet tomorrow.” You say and look at her through your phone.

“Are you still packing, girl?” She asks and laughs.

“Just last minute things.” You say and she nods her head.

“What time does your flight land?” She asks and you quickly look at your boarding pass.

“I should be landing at 5pm. You’re picking me up right?” You ask her and she nods. “Yes I am.”

The two of you stayed on the phone until it was time for you to go eat dinner. After dinner you showered and laid down on your bed. You couldn’t sleep due to the excitement and nerves. You were going to be far away from home, your family, everything you’ve ever known.

It was like you were finally starting your life, this was all that you dreamed of while growing up. Now that it’s finally happening, you couldn’t help but be nervous. You don’t even remember falling asleep but somehow you get woken up by your alarm.

Your flight was at 5am and you had to be there about an hour early. You woke up at around 3am and walked into your bathroom. You brushed your teeth and hair, trying to make yourself look comfy but somewhat presentable since you were going to be on a flight for 12 hours.

After getting ready and grabbing your bags, you brought them downstairs where your parents were already preparing snacks and food for your flight.

“Are you ready, sweetie?” Your dad asks and hands you the bag of food and snacks.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” He nods and hugs you, squeezing you tightly.

“My baby girl is leaving the nest.” He says and you laugh.

“I’ll be back dad. I’m not leaving forever.” You say and he laughs along with your mom.

“Okay, we should start leaving. It’s already 3:45.” Your mom says and starts grabbing your luggage.

You follow her out into the car with 2 suitcases in your hands, along with the bag full of food. After putting everything into the car, the three of you get inside the car and drive to the airport.

Your parents followed you all the way through the airport until they couldn’t anymore. You turned to face them and hugged them tightly.

“I’m going to miss you guys.” You say and they both sniffle, trying hard not to cry.

“Be safe please.” You mom says and you nod your head.

“I will, I promise.”

“Flight 423 to Seoul will now be boarding.” Was heard over the intercom.

“I love you guys.” You say to them and hug them tight once again before turning around.

You wave goodbye to them before you can’t see their figures anymore. Pushing your glasses up, you make your way into the first class section of the plane. Setting your bag down, you quickly take your glasses off and look out the window.

Another 20 minutes went by before the plane started to take off. You watch out the window as the city lights start becoming smaller and smaller.

Goodbye home.

-

After a 12 hour flight, you finally landed in Korea. Grabbing your bags from the baggage claim, you walked out into the front of the airport, hoping to see Yunjin.

“Yn!” You hear your name being called and turn to where the voice came from.

You let out a squeal and run towards Yunjin. She wraps her arms around you and laughs.

“You’re finally here!” She says and you nod your head before pulling away.

“The air feels different.” You joke and she laughs.

“You haven’t even stepped outside yet.”

“I know but it just does.” You say and she laughs before helping you with your suitcases. The two of you walk out of the airport and to her car.

As you’re looking out the car window, you see different types of scenery. Buildings, people, trees, rivers, and bicyclists.

“Oh wow, the college looks huge.” You say and she laughs.

“I’m so not excited for school.” She says and you nod your head.

“Me too. Thank god we have two weeks before we have to start attending classes.” You say and the both of you continue to talk until she parks inside the apartment parking garage.

She popped the trunk open so you could get your luggages out. She helped you with them before the both of you walked towards the apartment building. There were two different apartment buildings.

“Okay, so we are in the building on the left on the fourth floor.” She says.

You follow her and get into an elevator. The elevator arrives on the fourth floor and you guys walk down the hall.

“124...125…126…and 127.” She says to herself and turns to you.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, I’m dying to just lay down for a bit.” You say and she laughs before unlocking the door.

The walls were white with pictures and decorations adorning them. She had black leather couches surrounding a glass coffee table.

“You can put your stuff in here.” She says and leads you to a room. There was a queen sized bed with black bedding.

“I hope you like it. I wasn't sure how to decorate it.” She says and you shake your head.

“It’s perfect.” You say and she nods her head.

“What time are we going to dinner?” You ask her, starting to unpack.

“At 6, and I hope you don’t mind but I invited my boyfriend and some of our friends.” She says and you shake your head again.

“Not at all. I’m excited to make new friends.” You say and unzip another suitcase.

“What’s his name?” You ask while she helps unbag your skincare and makeup onto the vanity table.

“Jaemin.” She answers and looks at you.

“You know, his friends are also super cute.”

“Yunjin don’t.” You say jokingly and she laughs.

“What? I’m just saying. You said that you’ve never dated before. Why not try new experiences? I mean, that’s what you’re here for right?” She asks and you sigh before looking at her.

“Well yeah but-”

“But, nothing. Come on, you’re in a foreign country, you’re sweet, and you’re hot. You could probably get anyone you want.” She says, walking closer to you.

“Let’s just see how this goes.” You say and she smiles while clapping her hands.

After unpacking, you showered and started getting ready for dinner. After applying makeup and doing your hair, you looked through the drawers for clothes. You decided on a pair of low rise jeans with a baby pink cropped tank top.

After getting ready you grabbed your phone to look at the time but the doorbell rang. Confused, you walked out of your room and knocked on Yunjin’s bedroom door.

“Ynn, it’s my boyfriend and our friends. Can you let them in?” She yells from the other side of the door.

You yell back a yes and walk to the front door to open it. Three guys all dressed differently looked back at you in a confused manner.

“Are you sure this is the right one, dude?” The guy in a plain white long sleeve asks.

“Yes I’m sure. Hi, you must be the new roommate.” The guy in the middle asks.

“Yeah, I’m Yn. Nice to meet you. Please, come in.” You open the door wider for them to enter.

“Yunjin’s in the room.” You tell him and he nods before walking into her room.

Feeling awkward, you gesture for the other two boys to sit in the living room. They both walked over to the couch and sat down.

“Hello, I’m Mark. It's nice to meet you.” The guy who spoke earlier says and smiles at you.

He holds his hand out as a gesture for you to shake it. You grab his hand and smile back at him. “Yn.”

“I’m Jeno.” The other one says.

You quickly look at him and observe him. He was dressed in black ripped jeans with a plain white tee and a black leather jacket.

He was oozing with charisma, from the way he talked to the way he dressed. He had rings adorned on his fingers, paired with silver metal bracelets and multiple necklaces around his neck. You almost felt intimidated by him until he flashed a bright smile at you. His eyes formed into cute little crescents of the moon.

“Nice to meet you.” You say and walk away to grab your shoes. You grab your pink dunks and walk over to the couch to put your shoes on but before you could, Mark speaks up.

“Where’s the bathroom?” He asks and you direct him to it before continuing to put on your shoes.

As you bent down to slip your foot in, Jeno noticed how he could see your cleavage poking through the opening of your tank top. He smirks and licks his lips before looking back at his phone. After putting your shoes on you sat there in silence.

“Nice shoes.” He says and you look at him.

“Thank you.” You look down to his shoes to compliment him as well when you notice he’s wearing the same shoes as you just in black.

“You too.” You shyly say and he chuckles softly.

Jaemin and Yunjin finally walk back into the living room.

“Is everyone here?” She asks and Jamein shakes his head.

“We’re waiting for Mina.” Jaemin says and your eyebrows furrow.

“Who’s Mina?” You ask and Yunjin walks over to come sit next to you.

“Mark’s girlfriend. She lives further away from campus.” Yunjin says and you nod your head. Just then, Mark walks out and sits back down where he was sitting previously.

The atmosphere was a little awkward and you felt yourself curl up into a ball. You could feel Jeno’s eyes on you but you choose to ignore it, looking at anywhere but him. Finally, the doorbell rings signaling Mina’s arrival. Mark goes to open the door and greets her with a kiss.

“Okay, let’s go.” Yunjin says and walks to Jaemin, intertwining their hands. You’re the last one out of the door and you turn around to lock the door humming to yourself.

You turn back around and see Jeno waiting for you as the rest of them start walking to the parking garage.

“You didn’t have to wait for me.” You joke and he laughs.

“It’s okay, I didn’t want to really be with the couples anyway.” He says and you laugh, the two of you trailing behind the rest of the group.

Mark and Mina walk towards her car and you follow the rest of them into what you assume to be Jeno’s car since Jaemin was getting in the back seat. You turn to look at Yunjin who wiggles her eyebrows at you teasingly. You jokingly roll your eyes and get into the passenger seat.

“The usual?” Jeno asks and Yunjin nods her head.

He waits a moment for his phone to connect to the car before pulling out of the parking garage and heading to the restaurant. The music started to play and you recognized the song.

Apocalypse - Cigarettes After Sex

“I love this song.” You say out loud, hoping to make conversation.

“Yeah?” He asks and looks over at you quickly.

“Yeah, I love Cigarettes After Sex.” You say and softly laugh.

“What’s your favorite song?” You ask and turn to look at him with a smile.

“Probably ‘K.’ What about you?” He replies and you stop and think for a moment.

“It’s hard to say because I love all of their songs but I’ve been listening to ‘Sunsetz’ a lot recently.” You say and start playing with your fingers.

The conversation dies again but this time it’s not an awkward silence, it’s a comfortable one. A while later, you guys finally reach the restaurant and Jeno parks the car. The four of you get out of the car and meet up with Mark and Mina who were inside the restaurant already.

The six of you sit down at the table and start looking at the menu. It was a Korean Barbeque place. You were at the end of the table, closest to the wall with Yunjin on your left and across from her was Jaemin. Mark and Mina took up the remaining seats.

You look at the menu, debating on what you should get.

“The spicy pork belly is pretty good.” Jeno says across from you. You look up at him and smile.

“Yeah I was thinking about getting that.” You say and he smiles before looking back down at the menu.

“So, Yn. What are you majoring in?” Mina asks you before taking a sip of her water.

“Oh I’m majoring in nursing right now.”

“Oh, no way! Me too!.” Jaemin says and holds out his hand for a high five. You shyly high five him and the conversation continues.

Mark and Mina were both in their second year of college. Mark wanted to become a music producer and his girlfriend wanted to become a veterinarian. Yunjin and Jaemin were in the same year as you and like yourself, Jaemin wanted to become a nurse. You knew that Yunjin wanted to be a lawyer from previous conversations.

Jeno kept quiet most of the time, letting his friends talk before he did. After Jaemin finished speaking you turned to Jeno with questioning eyes.

“What about you?” You ask him and he softly smiles.

“I want to be a car designer.” He sheepishly says and you nod your head.

“That’s cool! I think you’d be good at it.” You say and he laughs.

“How do you know?” He asks teasingly and you look back at him.

“Your car! You added on all of the modifications right?” You say and he nods his head.

The four friends look at each other with knowing smiles before looking back at you and Jeno.

Before you know it, the food arrived. Jeno grabbed a piece of the spicy pork belly and placed it into your bowl of rice.

“Thank you.” You sheepishly say before eating it.

Everyone was so focused on eating that there was almost no conversation. Small conversations here and there but not too long lasting.

After 3 rounds of meat, everyone was stuffed. You wanted to treat everyone since they made you feel so welcomed but Jaemin beat you to it. He slid his card into the tab and gave it back to the server. You pouted a bit and Jeno noticed.

The way your cheeks filled up with air and your lips curled into each other, pressing against each other. He softly laughed and looked away.

“You guys want to drink tonight?” Mark suggests and everyone agrees.

“Yn and I can go grab alcohol and meet you guys back at the apartment.” Jeno says and everyone agrees with the plans.

You softly smile at the thought of spending time alone with him. You walk to his car and get in the passenger seat while waving bye to everyone else. Jeno starts up the car and the music starts playing.

Sunsetz - Cigarettes After Sex

You smile at the familiar instrumental intro of the song. You look over at him and he already has a smile forming on his face.

“Do you want to play 21 questions? We can get to know each other that way.” He asks and you nod your head yes.

“So, what made you come to Korea?” He asks you when the car gets to a red light.

“They have a good nursing program. One of the best in the whole world.” He nods his head at your answer.

You think for a moment before a question pops up in your head.

“How did you meet Jaemin?” You ask him and he softly laughs at your question.

“We were deskmates in middle school. I met him when I was 14.” He says and you smile at the thought of a younger Jeno.

The rest of the car ride was filled with questions bouncing back and forth between the two of you. Walking into the convenience store, you ask him a question.

“What’s your favorite color?” You ask and he laughs loudly at it.

“That’s what you’re asking?” He asks and laughs again when you nod your head.

The both of you walk over to the section with the soju bottles and he grabs a case that has 12 bottles in it.

“Blue.” He answers while walking to the register.

He started pulling out his wallet but you were faster. You tapped your card and when Jeno hears the noise the machine makes he looks up.

“My treat.” You say and he sighs softly.

“You didn’t have to.” He says and you shake your head.

“Your turn.” You say to him, gesturing for him to ask a question. Before he can ask you a question his name gets called.

You turn to look at the girl who called his name. She was gorgeous. Her hair was in all the right places, her makeup looked flawless, and her outfit looked like it was chosen by a stylist. Feeling insecure you wrap your arms around your body and avert your eyes.

“Jeno? That is you!” The girl exclaims and runs over to bring him into a hug.

Jeno keeps his arms down by his sides, not reciprocating the hug back. She pulls away from his embrace and pouts at him.

“What? You don’t even want to hug me?” She asks, batting her eyes at him but he keeps a stoic poker face.

“What are you doing here Giselle? I thought you were in Japan.” He says calmly and she turns her head to look at you. Ignoring his question she walks up to you.

“Hi, I’m Giselle. Jeno’s girlfriend.” She says and your eyes widen a bit.

She holds her hand out for you to take but before you could Jeno steps in front of you and blocks you from her vision, his taller frame towering over her.

“Ex. Girlfriend.” He clarifies and she rolls her eyes.

“Same thing. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” She says with a smile that looked all too fake.

He sighs and turns to look at you before grabbing your hand in his.

“She doesn’t need to be introduced to you.” He says bitterly.

His left hand wrapping around yours while holding the case of soju bottles in his other hand. He glares at the girl in front of you guys before dragging you out of the convenience store.

He pops open his trunk and lets go of your hand to place the case of alcohol in there. You awkwardly observe him let out a sigh before walking to the passenger door. He gets in the driver's seat and turns the car on.

You look at him and frown when you see his eyebrows furrowed with his eyes closed. Hesitantly, you poke at his eyebrows and his eyes open in shock.

“It’s not good to furrow your eyebrows for a long time.” You say and smile at him.

He softly smiles at you while looking into your eyes. Seeing him up close like this made you realize just how attractive he is. His strong and arched brows, his mole under his eye, his perfect nose, his full lips, even his chiseled jaw. Realizing what you’re doing, you quickly turn away from him and look straight out the window of the car and he softly laughs.

“I’m sorry.” He says and you frown before looking at him.

“Why are you apologizing?” You ask and he sighs again.

“Giselle.” He says, pointing out the elephant in the room. You nod your head and look at him furrowing his eyebrows again.

“We uh… we broke up last year. We dated for about two years before she had to move to Japan. Her dad got a job transfer over there and so her whole family moved. We tried to do long distance and it was going well, until I found out that she cheated on me.” He says and closes his eyes again.

You pout again and look at the man in front of you. How could anyone ever cheat on him? He was so damn perfect. Sure, you only met him today but you knew how genuine he was.

“I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.” You say and he softly chuckles.

You quickly look down for a second, trying to focus your attention on your hands in your lap. You slightly jump at the feeling of his hands under your chin. He grabs your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger, your eyebrows furrow feeling the coldness of his rings directly on your skin.

He tilts your face up to look back into his eyes and smirks. You slowly swallow the saliva in your mouth and look into his brown eyes.

“Don’t apologize, you did nothing wrong.” He says and you slowly nod your head.

He lets go of your chin and you sit further back into your seat. He laughs at your action and puts his car in reverse, heading back to your shared apartment with Yunjin.

-

“Finally!” You hear Yunjin say as you open the door.

“Sorry, we had to drive to the one further away because the other one didn’t have any soju in stock.” Jeno lies easily through his teeth.

You furrow at his words before plastering a smile onto your face. “Yeah, the detour was like 20 minutes.” You say, hoping that it made the lie more believable.

Jeno smiles at you, backing him up before placing the case of soju on the counter. He opens up the box and pulls out 3 bottles from it. You walk over to help him put the rest in the fridge and he grabs your hand. You gasp softly and look up at him.

“Thanks.” He says and you nod your head, knowing what he was referring to.

Jaemin had suggested a game of ‘Truth or Drink’ so the six of you were sat around the coffee table . Everyone agreed to let loose and be completely honest, no matter how raw the questions were and if they didn’t want to answer it, they could just take a shot of soju.

“Okay, Yn.” Jaemin starts off and you look at him.

“What was your first kiss like?” He finishes and everyone looks at you, waiting for you to answer.

“Hm, my first kiss.” You repeat and cringe thinking about it.

“It was gross. He kept trying to push his tongue in my mouth.” You say and everyone laughs at the thought of it.

“Okay, Mina. What’s the worst pick up line you’ve ever heard and who said it?” You ask with a smile and she laughs at the question. She looks over to her boyfriend who gasps offendedly.

“The worst pick up line I’ve ever heard was at the club.” She says and Mark groans upon hearing that causing the group to laugh.

“Mark came up to me and said ‘Hey, you owe me a drink. Because when I saw you, I dropped mine.”

Mark screams and cringes as the words leave his girlfriend’s lips. The group laughs and starts teasing him.

“I would’ve thrown my drink at you if you said that to me.” Jeno says and laughs when Mark flips him off.

As the night went on, half the soju case was almost gone. You could feel the alcohol getting to you, your eyesight was starting to blur a bit. The game continues and it was mark’s turn to ask.

“Have you and Yunjin ever got caught doing ‘it’ by someone?”

“Plenty of times.” Jaemin answered quickly with no thought.

Yunjin, feeling embarrassed, hides her face in her hands.

“Oh my god Yunjin, you said you were innocent!” You exclaim and hit her shoulder lightly.

“She’s not innocent at all, one time she wan-mphh” She covers her boyfriend’s mouth before he can embarrass her even more.

She removes her hand from his mouth and he laughs before scanning the room. He looks at everyone before stopping on his best friend.

“Okay, Jeno. Are you completely over what happened last year?” He asks his best friend who tenses up at the question but then relaxes again.

The smile that was once on his face disappears and he clears his throat.

“Um yeah, I would say I am.” Everyone nods their head at his answer and he looks over at you with a smirk.

“Oh no.” You say with a sigh playfully. He just laughs at your reaction and smiles even more.

“You’ve been asking me questions all night, aren’t you curious about anyone else?” You ask jokingly and he shakes his head.

“Nope. Just you, princess.” You cheeks flush at his use of a pet name and you look at him with wide eyes. He chuckles and playfully pinches your cheek.

“What’s the kinkiest thing you like to do during sex?” He asks and your cheek flushes even more.

It’s not like you’ve never had sex, you’ve had a few encounters of it. Keyword, a few. Both times however, were really vanilla so you’ve never experienced anything remotely kinky.

Clearing your throat you slowly pour the soju into your shot glass and take the shot.

“Oh come on princess.” He says and you shake your head no.

“Not telling.” You say and cough when the alcohol goes down the wrong pipe. The group laughs at your misery while Jeno pats your back, also laughing.

Not long after, everyone was slowly starting to drift off to sleep. You slowly were starting to sober up and decided to start cleaning up the mess. You grabbed the empty bottles and placed them in a trashbag.

After cleaning up, you looked around at everyone. Mark and Mina were fast asleep on the couch, cuddled up. You walked over to your bedroom and grabbed a spare blanket from the closet for them.

As you were walking out of your room, you met Jaemin and Yunjin in the hallway. “I’m guessing he’s sleeping with you?”

She nods her head and drags a drunk Jaemin into her room. You walk into the living room and drape the blanket over Mark and Mina. Jeno was fast asleep with his head on the coffee table. You walk over to him and shake him.

“Jeno? Wake up.” You say softly while shaking him awake. He mumbles incoherently before tuning his head to face you.

“Jeno, come on. Go sleep on the couch.” He shakes his head no and whines softly.

“You don’t want to sleep on the couch?” You ask softly while crouching down to him. He shakes his head again and you furrow your brows.

“Where do you wanna sleep?” You ask him and he slowly lifts his head up. He looks towards the hallway and points in your room.

You sigh softly and weigh your options. You could leave him here and have his body be sore tomorrow or you could take him to your room and let him sleep on your bed while you come back to sleep on the couch. Sighing, you grab his hand and help him up.

“Come on, let’s go to my room.” You whisper and he obliges.

He stands up, albeit a little wobbly but he manages to balance his weight, never letting go of your hand. You drag him to your room and place him on the bed. Reaching over. You take off his shoes and place them on the tile floor.

You stare at the sleeping man in front of you and sigh softly. As you go to walk away, he grabs your wrist. You stop in your tracks and turn to look at him.

“Don’t leave me, Giselle.” You hear him say and you widen your eyes.

So he was lying when he said that he was over it. You knew he wasn't with the way that he reacted inside the convenience store. You sigh again and furrow your brows before grabbing his hand that was holding onto your wrist and pull his grip away.

You stare at him again and he has a sour expression on his face. You hesitantly poke at his eyebrows to ease them before walking out of your room, leaving him in there. You walk into the bathroom and look at yourself in the mirror.

Your eyes were red and your mascara was smeared everywhere. The pink lip tint you applied is now gone due to the oil of the food. You take out a makeup wipe and start removing your makeup, all the while thinking about the man in your room.

You barely met him yet he had you wrapped around his finger. You sighed again for the hundredth time that night. After removing all of your makeup, you brushed your teeth before walking back out into the living room.

You decided to sleep on the other couch. After grabbing another blanket from the closet, you laid down and felt your eyelids getting heavy. Sleep slowly overtaking your body. You closed your eyes and let it devour you, not wanting to think about what just happened in the last 20 minutes.

-

You hear voices coming from next to you and open your eyes. The sun was blaring from the balcony window. Squinting your eyes, you sit up and see that everyone was up besides Jeno.

“Want some breakfast?” Jaemin asks from the kitchen and you slowly nod your head.

Your head was pounding and your mouth felt dry. Last night was the first time in a long time that you’ve drank that much. You tried to swallow some saliva to help quench your thirst but it didn’t help at all. Yunjin and Mina came over to sit next to you on the couch. MIna handed you a glass of water and you softly thanked her.

The water was cooling against your dry mouth and throat. Gulping down the water you slowly looked around.

“Where’s Jeno?” Yunjin asks you and you bring the cup down from your lips.

“He didn’t want to sleep on the couch so I took him to my room and came to sleep out here.” You answer and they nod their head.

“Food’s ready.” Jaemin says and the three of you walk over to the dining table where Mark was setting up plates.

“I’m gonna go wake up Jeno.” You say and walk towards your room.

You slowly opened the door, hoping not to wake him up. He was softly snoring and you observed him again before walking closer to him on your bed. The events of last night flash through your brain and you stop in your tracks. Deciding to not think too much, you walk up to him.

“Jeno.” You say and shake him to wake him up.

He slowly opens his eyes and blinks up at you before sitting up fastly. He looks around the room and notices that he’s in your room. You softly laugh at him and shake your head.

“Jaemin cooked breakfast, go eat.” You say and he slowly nods his head before getting up from your covers.

He grabs his shoes and walks out of your room. You sigh once he's out and lay down on your bed, not even caring that you haven’t washed them after he used it. You stare up at the ceiling for a moment before getting up to change into more comfortable clothes.

You fell asleep in your jeans last night and it was itching your legs. Locking your door, you change into a pair of gray loose sweatpants and a tight white long sleeve that was cropped. You looked for your brown fluffy slippers and put them on before walking back out into the kitchen to eat.

-

It’s been a few days since that day and you haven’t seen Jeno at all. You and Yunjin were watching a movie in the living room when you looked over at her and decided to ask the question you were dying to know the answer to.

“Yunjin?” You call out and she turns to look at you.

“What’s up?” She asks.

“Who did Giselle cheat on Jeno with?” You ask and she makes a confused face.

“How did you know about that?” She asks and you panic. You didn't know if you should tell her about what happened at the convenience store but you do anyway.

“When Jeno and I went to go get alcohol, she was there.” You answer and Yunjin sits up from her position.

“She was here? In Korea?” She asks for clarification and you nod your head yes.

“That bitch.” She says softly and looks away before looking back at you.

“She cheated on him with this guy named Shotaro.” She says and you slowly nod your head.

“DId he love her?” You ask again and Yunjin looks at you confusingly.

“Jeno.” You clarify and Yunjin sighs.

“Yeah, I think he did. But once she broke that trust, it was hard for him to get over it.” She explains and you stay quiet.

“Why are you asking?” She asks and you shake your head.

“I was just curious.” You say and she looks at you with squinted eyes before looking back at the tv.

You sat there in silence, thinking about the information that you just received. You grabbed your phone and looked up the name ‘Shotaro’ on instagram. It wasn’t hard to find him after all, there weren't many Shotaros in the world.

Clicking on the first profile that popped up you looked on his page and saw different posts with girls and guys. One picture in particular caught your eye though. It was a picture of Shotaro, Giselle, and Jeno.

She was standing in the middle with her head on Jeno’s shoulder. You frowned and zoomed in on the picture. Her arms wrapped around both of them but even though her head was on Jeno’s shoulder, Shotaro was standing closer to her than Jeno was.

You looked at the date it was posted, 2021. You zoomed back onto Shotaro’s face. He wasn’t bad looking but he definitely wasn’t as handsome as Jeno was. It seems like Jeno and Shotaro were friends or acquaintances at least.

You clicked on the picture to look at the tag and found Jeno’s account. He had no posts but he had story highlights. You clicked on one and saw Jaemin and Mark along with other guys. Tapping through them you looked at them before it changed to another highlight. You noticed that this one had just him.

There were pictures of him at the gym, him biking, him at parties, and more. Just as you were about to look even more, the doorbell rang. You looked up and saw Yunjin looking at you.

“Are you expecting anybody?” She asks you and you shake your head.

Getting up, you walked over to the front door and opened it. Jeno was standing there in a muscle tee and sweats. His biceps were out for everyone to see and you slowly widened your eyes.

“Jeno? What are you doing here?” You ask and look back to see if Yunjin was watching but she wasn't.

“Can we talk?” He asks and you nod your head before walking out to talk in the hallway.

“What’s up? Are you okay?” You ask and he nods his head.

“Yeah. I just wanted to apologize about the other day.” He says and you scoff slightly.

“It’s okay. You were drunk, don’t even worry about it.” You say and he smiles softly. You look up into his eyes and feel yourself smiling as well.

“Is that all?” You ask and he nods his head.

As you turn to walk back inside he grabs your wrist. “Wait!” He exclaims and you turn back to look at him.

“Um, someone I know is throwing a party tonight. Would you like to go with me?” He asks and you furrow your eyebrows.

“Tonight?” You ask and he nods his head.

“Sure, what time should I expect you to pick me up?” You ask and he smiles softly.

“I’ll be here at 9.” He says and you smile with a nod of your head. You turn to walk inside but before closing the door, you wave to him and he does the same.

“Who was it?” Yunjin asks and you drop your smile.

“Uh, Jeno. He invited me to a party tonight.”

“Oh, it must be Haechan’s party.” She says and you furrow your brows.

“How do you know?” You ask and she shrugs her shoulders.

“Jaemin invited me but I declined because I thought we were hanging out tonight.” She says teasingly and your eyes widen.

“Oh shit. Sorry, I already accepted his invite. I can cancel on him.” You say and Yunjin laughs.

“It’s fine, if you’re going then I’ll go too.” She says and grabs her phone to text Jaemin.

You smile and walk into your bedroom. It was already 5pm and you needed time to get ready. You walked into your closet, hoping to find something to wear. Looking through your tops, you found a black tube top and decided to pair it with a blue denim mini skirt.

You knew it was going to be a bit chilly outside, but you didn’t want to ruin your outfit so you opted for freezing tonight. Laying your outfit down on your bed, you walked towards the vanity mirror and started applying makeup. You knew you wanted it to be subtle but still bold enough to compliment your features.

“Hey, what are you wearing?” Yunjin asks while walking in and looking at the outfit on your bed.

“Oh, this is cute!” She exclaims and grabs your jacket to inspect it closely.

“Well, I was going to wear low rise jeans but I thought the skirt was cuter. What about you? What are you wearing?” You say while applying some lip gloss.

You turn towards her and see her in a green mini skirt with a white top. You smile and nod your head yes. “Oh hell yeah! You look hot as fuck.” You say and walk closer to her to look closely at her outfit. She smiles and does a quick turn while posing like models do. You laugh and gently hit her shoulder.

“Is Jaemin picking you up?” You ask and she shakes her head no.

“We usually uber since we both drink but Haechan’s place is really close so we usually just walk.” She says and you nod your head.

“I think he’s coming with Jeno so the four of us will probably just walk together.” She says and walks into your bathroom to look at herself in the mirror. You walk back over to your vanity table and finish getting ready. You finished curling the last strand of hair when the doorbell rang. You hear Yunjin going to open the door and quickly look at yourself in the mirror before grabbing your black platform boots.

As you were putting them on, there was a knock on your door. “Come in!” You yell and the door opens revealing Jeno.

“Hey.” You softly say and smile at him.

He stays near the door, mesmerized by you. Your outfit, your hair, your makeup, everything was so beautiful. He slightly clears his throat before looking away and greets you as well.

“You look beautiful." He says and you shyly smile.

“Thank you.” You say and finally look up to get a glimpse of his outfit for tonight.

He was wearing a purple and black striped shirt with black ripped jeans. His signature leather jacket was draped over his shoulders. His jewelry completed the look. He had the same rings adorning his fingers and you slightly felt a chill run up your spine, remembering the way they felt under your chin. His jet black hair was styled properly this time, showcasing his forehead. You slightly blush and get up to grab your bag. Slipping it over your shoulder, you look at yourself in the mirror one last time.

You turn to Jeno and smile while gesturing for him to leave first so you could close your door. The both of you walked towards the living room so that you guys could all leave. Yunjin and Jaemin were the first ones out of the door and you stayed behind to lock the door. Feeling a sense of deja vu when you see that Jeno was waiting for you.

“Is Giselle going to be there?” You ask Jeno who shakes his head.

“I don’t know. I hope not.” He replies and you nod your head before trailing behind Jaemin and Yunjin who were joined at the hip.

“I think I have a new favorite song from Cigarettes After Sex.” He says and you turn to look at him while walking.

“Really? What song?” You ask curiously and he slightly chuckles.

“Sunsetz.” He says and you gently laugh while pushing him away from you.

“You’re such a follower.” You joke and he laughs before walking close to you again.

The both of you continued small talk while walking to Haechan’s house. Your hands slightly bump into each other since you were walking so closely to each other. Your cheeks flushed every time your hand accidentally brushed against his.

-

As the night went on and more people came you lost sight of your friends. Sighing, you lean your back against a wall and take a sip out of the nasty concoction that was made by Haechan himself. Suddenly you felt someone come stand next to you. You turn to look at the person when you notice how familiar he looked.

“Hi, I’m Shotaro. What’s your name?” You gape at the person in front of you. He was the guy Giselle cheated on Jeno with. You slightly smile awkwardly and give him your name.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl.” He says and you slightly back away from him to put some distance with a fake smile plastered on your face.

“I haven’t seen you around before. Are you new here?” He asks and you nod your head.

“I’m here for college.” You reply dryly and he smiles at you.

You hated to admit that he was an attractive man but you couldn’t do that to Jeno. The two of you just stood there in silence looking at each other.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, Jeno stared from across the room. His hand clenched onto his cup while his tongue poked his cheek. Why the fuck was Shotaro talking to you? And why was he standing so fucking close to you?

Hachan sluggishly wrapped his arm around his friend and laughed. “What’s got you so pissy?”

Jeno huffed and pushed his arm off of him. Haechan follows his gaze and sees Shotaro. Furrowing his brows he straightens up and turns to Jeno.

“I didn’t know he was back.” He says and puts his hand on Jeno’s shoulder.

Seeing enough, Jeno removes Hacehan’s hand from his shoulder and gulps the last of his drink before throwing the cup on the floor. His eyes stayed on Shoitao the whole time he was making his way over to you two.

“Do you want to dance?” Shotaro asks and holds his hand out. Before you could even answer a hand pushes him away.

You look up and see Jeno standing next to you. His nostrils were flared and his eyes were abnormally cold. Glaring at the man in front of him while Shotaro just chuckles.

“Jeno Lee.” He says and smiles while looking straight back at him.

Jeno didn’t reply, he just glared at the guy in front of him before grabbing your hand. As he turned to get the both of you away from him you felt Shotaro pull on your other arm.

“Hey, we were talking!” Shotaro yells and Jeno turns quickly to look at him.

“Let go of her.” He says through clenched teeth and Shotaro just smirks.

He slowly lets go of your arm and continues smirking while Jeno keeps his eyes on him. You slightly tap Jeno’s shoulder, signaling for the both of you to leave. He softly looks back at you and the both of you walk back over to where the rest of his friends were.

“Why were you talking to him?” Jeno snapped and you turned to look at him.

“He came up to me, what was I supposed to do? Ignore him?” You sass back and Jeno just sighs.

“Do you know who he is?” He asks, never letting go of your hand.

Of course you knew who he was but you didn’t want to admit to stalking their Instagram pages so you shake your head no. He sighs and pulls you towards the kitchen counter. Your back hits against it and you let out a soft yelp from the pain.

Jeno steps in front of you, keeping you trapped between his own body and the counter. His taller frame towering over you and you felt a little shy looking into his eyes. You avert your eyes and look down but Jeno grabs your chin to make you look him straight in the eye. Your lashes flutter against your eyes and he softly chuckles.

He leans down so he could whisper in your ear. You freeze up because he was too close to you. His necklace dangling onto your shoulder and the cool metal against your bare shoulder makes your cheeks flush again.

“You’re cute.” He says and you softly giggle.

You can feel your heart rate going up. Trying to calm it down, you inhale a short breath but Jeno catches it. He can feel your heart pounding against his chest and he softly chuckles.

“Do I make you nervous?” He asks and you quickly shake your head no.

He pulls away from your ear and looks at you again with a smirk.

“You sure?” He whispers, leaning closer to your face.

You could feel his breath hitting in your face and it makes you back away a little bit. You didn’t get too far because his hand goes around your waist, pulling you right up against his body. The alcohol in your system and the closeness of your bodies make you start to sweat a bit. It was too hot in here, you needed to get some fresh air.

“I need to- I need to get some air.” You say quietly for him to hear and he smirks while letting go of you.

You huff out a breath and step away from him. You walk towards the sliding door and feel the cool breeze against your skin. Your heart is racing a million beats per minute. You slowly bring your hands to your cheeks and feel how hot they are.

Shaking your head, you try to calm yourself down but a touch on your shoulder scares you. You jump away from the contact and turn around to see Yunjin and Mina there.

“Oh, hi.” You say softly and they both look at you.

“Are you okay?” Mina asks and they both walk closer to you.

“Yeah. I just needed to get some air.” You reply and they both nod their head.

“We saw Shotaro trying to talk to you.” Yunjin says and you sigh.

“Yeah, it was awkward.” You say and inhale a sharp breath.

“Was Jeno friends with him?” You ask and they both look at each other before looking back at you.

“They were very close in high school because they were both in dance club.” Yunjin says and you nod your head again.

“Come on, let’s go drink.” Mina says and wraps her arm around your arm with Yunjin doing the same.

The three of you walk back into the house and walk to the kitchen where the rest of the guys were at. You quickly catch Jeno’s eye and he smirks at you. You shyly smile at him before walking with the girls to the other side of the counter.

You were across from Jeno but you tried not to look at him. Instead, you kept your eyes on Renjun, who was pouring the shots. He passed out the shot cups and you shyly thanked him before grabbing it from him.

The eight of you cheered and clicked your shot cups against each other before downing the shrink. The alcohol was burning your throat and you let out a sour look after swallowing it down.

“That’s nasty.” You say and Renjun laughs.

“It’s Bicardi.” He says and lifts up the bottle to show you.

“It tastes like shit.” You say and Hachan screams.

“Don’t say that about my baby.” Haechan says and grabs the bottle to pat it.

“Don’t worry, she didn't mean that.” He says and you laugh at him.

Jeno kept his eyes on you the whole time. Maybe it was the alcohol in his system or maybe it was his dirty mind that wanted to corrupt you. You seemed so innocent to him, with your sparkling eyes, your skirt riding up so high that he could basically see your panties but you didn’t even notice.

You stupid perfect lips that curl up so sweetly when you smile. Your hair that looked so soft, your belly button piercing that always adds fuel to the boner he was already springing. He was imagining all sorts of things.

His necklaces dangling in front of your face as he pushes himself into you. Your belly button piercing that would glimmer so bright as he was on top of you.

“Jeno!” Renjun’s voice snaps him away from his thoughts. He looks over at his friend who has a knowing smile on his face.

“She’s pretty cute right?” Renjun says and laughs softly when Jeno looks back at you.

“Shut up.” He grumbles and pushes Renjun away slightly who laughs at his friend.

You felt your head spinning and decided that you had enough to drink. You sat down on the counter to keep your body from falling down. You close your eyes to help your headache when you feel a presence in front of you. Opening your eyes, you see Jeno in front of you again.

‘You okay, princess?” He asks and you nod your head.

“Yeah, I just need to calm down a bit.” You say and he nods his head. His hands come to rest on the counter, trapping you again.

Your belly button piercing was on full display for him, the butterfly charm draws him in. He reaches down to play with your piercing and you giggle at his actions.

“It tickles.” You softly say and try to wriggle from his hands but he softly laughs and places his other hand on your waist to keep you from moving.

Feeling bold, you grab his necklace and pull him in closer to inspect it. You smooth your fingers over the cross and he smiles softly watching you. His fingers never leaving your belly button piercing either. You look up into his eyes and smile softly.

“What?” You softly say and he shakes his head.

His eyes formed into those cute little crescent moons. This man was going to be the death of you. You let go of his necklace and sigh.

“My butt hurts.” You say and he softly chuckles again.

He lets go of your piercing and holds his hand out. You take his hand in yours and jump off the counter. You go to grab your bag but he grabs it for you and holds it with his other hand while leading you to the couch.

The smell of marijuana was piercing and your nose scrunched up at the smell. Jaemin was smoking a blunt with Yunjin on his lap. He blew the smoke out away from his girlfriend before passing it to Hachan. Jeno sits down on the couch and pulls you onto him.

You yelp when your butt lands on his thighs. Everyone was lost in conversation and you were lost in your thoughts. Mark passes the blunt to Jeno who takes a drag before blowing it away from your face. You look at him as he takes another hit.

“Wanna try, princess?” He asks and holds out the blunt to you.

You shake your head no and he shrugs his shoulders before passing it back to Mark. Jeno’s hands were wrapped around your waist and he pulled you in closer. His chin resting on your shoulders as he closes his eyes.

You smile softly and place your hands against his. You grab one of them and start playing with one of the many rings he has on. Jeno opens his eyes and watches as you get lost looking and playing with his rings. You shyly smile at him and go back to looking at his rings when a figure catches your eye.

Giselle was walking over and you quietly tapped Jeno’s arm to signal him. He opens his eyes and lets out a soft hum. He looks up and sees her in front of the both of you. The conversation died down as everyone looked at her.

“Can I get a hit?” She asks, looking Jeno straight in the eye. He sits up and squeezes your waist tighter.

“It’s not mine, don’t ask me.” He says and looks at Jaemin.

Jaemin shrugs his shoulders and hands out the blunt to her. She smiles and sits down next to Jeno and you. You roll your eyes at her and go to stand up but Jeno’s hold on you gets tighter. You turn to look at him but he shakes head. He places his chin back onto your shoulder.

“I’m comfortable.” He whispers in your ear and you giggle softly while he laughs.

Giselle looks at you two with a nasty look before hitting the blunt again. Yunjin and Mina look at each other with a roll of their eyes.

“What’s your name?” Giselle asks, looking straight at you. You turn to look at her and plaster a fake smile.

“Yn.” You say and she softly laughs.

“You don’t smoke?” She asks again and you shake your head no.

“Oh, I thought you did because Jeno likes girls who smoke.” She says with a raise of her eyebrows.

You know she’s trying to rile you up and you hate that it’s working. Jeno sighs and opens his eyes to look at her again. He releases you from his grasp and you take that as a sign to get up from his hold.

“Let’s go.” He says and grabs your hand in his again. You shyly take it and look at Yunjin who gets up as well.

“This was fun Hyuck, but I think it’s time for us to go.” She says and holds onto Jaemin as he gets up too.

You wave bye to everyone and walk out of the house with Jeno, Yunin, and Jaemin. Giselle gals at your figure disappearing and scoffs.

“It was just a joke, jeez. What’s their problem?” She asks and takes another hit of the blunt.

Mina scowls at her as she gets up to leave with Mark.

‘You know what the problem is, bitch.” She says angrily and the two of them walk off.

You and Jeno were walking into the direction of your apartment. The chilly air was blowing against your skin and you shiver. He notices and stops walking to take his jacket off. He places them around your shoulders and smiles at you.

You thank him and he grabs your hand to continue the walk. Unbeknownst to you both Jaemin was taking pictures of you two with a big grin on his face.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Yunjin says softly with a giggle and pushes his hand away.

He laughs and puts his phone back into his pocket before grabbing her hand. The four of you finally made it to your guys' shared apartment. Jeno walked you to your room and sat you down on your bed. He kneels down to take your boots off. Your head was pounding so hard you lay down against your pillows.

After he was finished he looked at you fast asleep on your bed. He smiles softly and bends down. He places a quick kiss to your head and whispers a soft “Good night.” before walking out of your room.

“You good to drive?” Jaemin asks and he nods his head.

He takes the keys from Jaemin and the both of them walk out of the apartment to head back to their dorm. Jaemin noticed the way Jeno's lips curved up into a smile. He noticed the way Jeno’s eyes lit up every time he looked at you. He noticed lots of things in his friend that he hasn’t seen in a long time. He smiles softly at his friend who continues the drive home.

-

You woke up the next morning, still in your clothes from last night and your makeup half rubbed off. You walk over to the bathroom to remove your makeup and shower when you notice Jeno’s jacket around you. You smile and go to grab your phone.

you left your jacket - princess

i left it on purpose ;) - Jeno Lee

You smile and heart his message before getting ready to remove your makeup.

-

It’s been a week since you started classes and safe to say, you were not expecting that much work within the first week. It was finally Friday and you just got back to your apartment. Yunjin didn’t have any classes today so she was already home.

“Are you done packing already?” You ask as you walk into her room.

“Yeah. Are you?” She asks and you shake your head no.

Jaemin had a beach house and he invited you all over for the weekend to destress from the first week of school.

“I’m too tired to pack.” You say and she laughs. “Well you better hurry up, They’re meeting here at 2.” She says and you groan.

“That’s in like 2 hours.” You say and she nods her head.

“Yeah, so hurry up. Princess.” She teases you and you hit her gently.

“Shut up! Don’t call me that.” You say laughing and she laughs as well.

“Just go pack.” She says and you laugh before walking to your room to pack for the weekend.

You were only going to be gone until Sunday so you packed 2 bikinis, a few pairs of jeans and sweats, and a few baby cropped tees. You walk over to your undergarments drawer when Jeno’s leather jacket catches your eye.

You smile thinking about the memory last weekend and walk up to it. You grab it and fold it up to put in your bag so you could give it back to him. You tried to give it back to him earlier but he kept trying to push it off, claiming that he had other ones to wear.

You place it into your bag and grab new undergarments to pack. Lastly, you packed your makeup and skincare into a smaller bag and placed it into your duffel bag. After zipping it up you change into comfortable clothes.

You changed into your black one piece spandex and grabbed a white cropped sweater that falls off your left shoulder perfectly. You put a pair of fuzzy white socks on and slipped your feet into your UGG platform slippers. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you smiled before grabbing your bag and walking out into the living room.

You had makeup on already from school so you just touched it up a little bit. You wanted to look cute since you were going to be riding with Jeno. Jaemin and Yunjin were taking Mark and Mina, while Haechan and Renjun brought along their other two friends.

“They’re here.” Yunjin says and you grab your bag and place the strap around your right shoulder.

“Let’s go!” You say and walk out of the apartment first. Yunjin locked up the apartment before following you down to where everyone else was.

You notice Jeno’s black 2023 Mercedes Benz C-Class first. You smile and wave at him as he opens the trunk and grabs your bag from you. You open up your bag and pull his jacket out from it and hand it to him.

He smiles and takes the jacket from you and places it in his trunk as well. He closes the trunk and you walk over to the passenger side door and get inside the car. He gets in the car as well and waits for Jaemin to take off first.

“Are you excited?” He asks and you squeal.

“Yes! I need a break from school.” You say and he laughs.

“It’s barely been a week.” He says and you giggle.

“Yeah but the classes are so hard.” You say and he softly laughs.

“Who’s coming with Haechan and Renjun?” You ask and he looks over at you.

“Our other friends, you haven’t met them yet. Their names are Chenle and Jisung. They’re a bit younger than us.” He says and you nod your head.

He pulls out something from the back seat and gives it to you. It’s a small velvet box. Furrowing your eyebrows you look at him.

“What is it?” You ask softly and giggle.

“Just open it.” He says and you do as he says.

Inside was a thick metal ring adorned with jewels. It was the same one he had on middle finger. You gasp and pull it out from the box, bringing it closer to you so you can inspect it.

“You liked playing with mine so much, I figured I’d just buy you one." He says sheepishly and you smile at him.

“Oh my god, Jeno! It’s so beautiful, thank you.” You say and slip it on your middle finger on your left hand, exactly where it was on Jeno’s finger.

You lift your hand to show him and he laughs at the placement of your ring. Excitedly, you take out your phone and grab his hand to place yours on top. Snapping a quick picture of your guys hands together with the rings on display. You smile in satisfaction and show him.

“Send it to me.” He says and smiles.

You nod your head and quickly pull up his contact to send the picture to him. He looks over at your phone and sees his contact saved as ‘Jeno Lee.’ He scoffs and grabs your phone from your hands.

“Hey!” You exclaim and try to get it back but he pushes your hand away.

He changes his name to ‘jen’ and saves it before handing your phone back to you. You laugh once you see his contact name and look at him.

“What’s my name saved as?” You ask with a smile on your face.

He pulls out his phone and goes to your contact before turning his phone around and showing you. You stare at the ‘princess’ and laugh, pushing his shoulder away.

“You’re annoying.” You say and he laughs before charging his phone.

“You got your nails done?” He asks, grabbing your hands to inspect your nails closely.

You recently got them done with Yunjin and Mina. They were a nude pink color with glitter and charms adorned around them. You nod your head as he plays with the butterfly charm on your middle finger.

“I wanted to make them pretty.” You say and he softly laughs.

You look out the window and notice Jaemin’s car leaving. Jeno lets go of your hand and puts his car in reverse to follow them.

“Can you GPS the way just in case we get separated?” He asks and you nod your head before grabbing his phone.

“Password?” You ask and he quickly says the password code before you click on the group chat with the 10 of you.

You click on the address that Jaemin sent earlier this week and it starts showing the map on Jeno’s dashboard. You swipe out of the app and go to his Spotify. You look through his playlist and find one titled ‘Princess.’ Smiling, you click on it and see that it’s all Cigarettes After Sex songs. You click on ‘Sunsetz’ and the song begins to play. Jeno lets out a laugh at the song choice and shakes his head.

-

After a two hour car ride, you and Jeno finally arrive at the house. Jeno parks his car and you undo your seatbelt. Stepping out of the car, you walk towards the trunk and grab your bag. He follows you and grabs his bag as well.

The two of you walk inside the beach house and notice how big it was. It was squeaky clean like a brand new house. You walk through the house, looking in awe at how beautiful it was. After you finished looking at it, everyone was gathered in the living room.

“So there’s 5 rooms, everyone is going to have to share a room.” Jaemin says and grabs his girlfriend’s hand.

“Me and Yunjin, Mark and Mina, Jeno and Yn, Haechan and Renjun, and Jisung and Chenle.” Jaemin finishes and everyone nods their head in agreement.

“Every room is available besides the master bedroom, that’s where Yunjin and I will sleep.” He says and you and Jeno rush to get the best room.

You open the door and squeal when you look inside. There was a beautiful balcony with a view of the beach right outside. You were in awe of the balcony that you barely noticed the one bed but when you did your eyes widened.

You’re sharing one bed with Jeno. You look over to him and he laughs at your expression. He walks over to you and looks out the window with a smirk.

“Don’t worry, I’ll behave.” He says and walks to the bed to set his bag down. You awkwardly laugh and play it off.

“I’m not worried at all.” You say and shake your head.

Jeno raises his eyebrows at your lie and smirks before sitting on the bed. You go to place your bag on the bed as well when Jeno grabs your wrist and pulls you down onto the bed. His body hovering over yours causing his necklaces to dangle in front of you.

You eyes widen and you try to get up from his grasp but he pins your arms down above your head. He smirks and laughs at you before getting up and letting go of you.

“Not worried at all, my ass.” He says and chuckles. You sit up and huff at him.

“Shut up. You just caught me off guard.” You lie again.

He lets out an amused smile and nods his head knowing the truth. You get up to unzip your bag and grab your makeup bag to put on the desk table in the corner of the room. After doing that, you walk out into the kitchen to help Mina and Yunjin prepare the meat so Jamein can barbecue it.

Jeno sat on the bed and pulled his phone out. He looks at the photo you sent him and stares at it for a second before saving it and going to Instagram. He clicks on the photo and puts ‘Sunsetz’ as the music background before posting it.

He smiles looking at the finished product and turns his phone off before joining the rest of you guys in the kitchen. He can hear your laugh and it brings a smile to his face again. He walks outside and over to Jaemin who's preparing the grill and helps him.

You were washing the rice when Yunjin let out a gasp. You and Mina turn to look at her and she squeals before showing her phone to you guys. The picture that you just took earlier today blaring through her phone. You widen your eyes and clear your throat.

“That’s you right?” Mina asks while looking at you with a shocked face.

“No.” You shake your head and try to lie but the two of them smirk.

“Yn, we all got our nails done together.” Yunjin says and grabs your left hand to match the nails and the ring to the picture.

“Oh my god! Are you guys dating?” Mina asks excitingly and you shake your head.

“No we aren’t. I don’t even know what we are.” You say and Yunjin pouts at your words.

“Do you like him?” She asks and you sigh before nodding your head.

“But, I know that he’s not over whatever happened with Giselle so it’s impossible.” You say placing the bowl into the rice cooker.

Mina and Yunjin pout before walking over to you. They both hug you to comfort you and you smile at them.

“I’m okay, I promise.” You say and the two of them look at each other before looking back at you. They let go of you and the three of you continue to prepare the food.

After Jaemin finished grilling the meat, everyone was sitting outside enjoying the food and the weather. You were sitting in between Mina and Jeno. The latter’s Instagram story is still reeling in your mind. Why did he even post that? What was he trying to do when he posted it? 

You looked over at him laughing along to something Haechan said, you didn’t bother to pay attention to the conversation. Jaemin must’ve caught you staring because next thing you know you feel a kick on your leg. 

You looked across to him and he smiled while raising his eyebrows teasingly. You shake your head and laugh. 

“I just spaced out.” You say, trying to defend yourself. 

“Sure you did.” Jaemin teases and you flip him off jokingly. 

The conversations continue until Haechan screams and runs away from Jeno who's chasing him. You laugh at them and sip on your water. Setting the glass down, you start playing with the ring on your middle finger. Twisting it around to help distract yourself.

“That’s a nice ring.” Mark says with a smirk.  

“Oh, thanks. It was a gift.” You say and smile while he slightly laughs. 

“From who?” He asks again, leaning closer to get a good look at you. 

“Um, I forgot.” You lie and take a sip of your water. 

Mark laughs at you again and goes to say something but Mina nudging him makes him stop talking. You slightly scoff and go back to eating when Jeno sits back down. He goes to grab his glass of water but it’s empty. 

He looks over at yours and grabs it before drinking out from it. He sets the glass back down where it was and smiles at you. You don’t say anything as you continue to eat the meat that Jaemin barbequed. 

As everyone finished eating, you started cleaning up along with Mina and Yunjin. You gathered up the dirty plates and put them in the sink while the other two went to retrieve more dirty dishes. You started washing the dishes when Jaemin came over to help you. 

“Oh, it’s okay Jaemin. I got it.” You say and he waves off your comment. 

“It’s fine.” He says and starts rinsing the soapy dishes.

“Anything you wanna talk about?” You ask, hoping to ease the conversation. 

“Not really.” He says while looking at you causing you to laugh slightly. 

“How do you like the friend group so far?” He asks. 

“Oh, you guys are really fun. It’s very different from my friend group back at home." You say and continue to wash the dishes. 

“How so?” Jaemin inquires. 

“Well, for starters there’s not a lot of us in the friend group. There’s only four of us and we didn’t really hang out with guys. I mean, we did, but they weren’t part of our immediate friend group.” You explain and he nods. 

“Do you ever miss home?” He asks and you sigh quietly. 

“I do. But, at the same time it’s good to have new experiences so I’m really glad I came over here for college.” You say with a smile. 

“I see why Yunjin likes you so much.” Jaemin says and laughs. 

“What do you mean?” You ask and laugh as well. 

“You guys are just so alike. You always want to see the good in things, even in people.” He says and you laugh again. 

“Like you?” You tease and he glares at you playfully. 

“I wasn't that bad.” He defends and you laugh. 

“Yeah right. You turned from this playboy who slept around to being in a fully committed relationship.” You say and he shrugs his shoulders. 

“Maybe I was just waiting for the right person to come along.” He says and looks over at you. You just nod your head at his answer and he almost groans in frustration.

How could you not understand that he was also talking about you and Jeno. You both were the most dense people he’s ever met. Of course he and his girlfriend gossip about you guys- you’re her roommate and Jeno’s his best friend for Christ's sake. 

He knew you liked his friend, Yunjin told him. And, he knew that his friend liked you as well, even if he didn’t want to admit it. The way that Jeno acted around you was different than how he was around any other girl, even Giselle. 

Jeno cares for you in more ways than one. Like when he gave you his jacket, or when he was holding your hand, or protecting you from Giselle, or buying you a ring, or posting you on his public social media account for goodness sakes. 

After finishing up the dishes, you changed into your bikini to go swimming in the pool. Walking out onto the deck you placed your towel on the chair before jumping into the water. The coolness of it relaxes your tense body. 

You swam alone for about five minutes until you heard the door open and close. Looking over, you find Jeno walking towards the pool in nothing but his black swimming trunks - matching your black bikini. You smile slightly and continue swimming when he gets in. 

“Didn’t find you in the room.” He says and you laugh. 

“I just wanted to clear my mind a bit.” You reply while swimming to him. 

“Something wrong?” He asks and you shake your head immediately. 

“No, nothing’s wrong.” You say and he stares at you. 

He knows that you’re lying, whenever you lie you always avert your eyes and press your lips together. He walks closer to you and backs you up against the wall of the pool. 

“Jeno.” You softly say but he cuts you off by placing his hands around your thighs. 

You whimper quietly as he places your legs around his waist. His dark eyes staring abc into yours and you have to bite your tongue to not release a moan. 

“Jeno.” You say quietly and he brings his face closer to you. 

“Hm?” He asks and you try to avert your eyes but he stops you. 

“Look at me.” He says and you listen to him. 

You look into his eyes and say nothing. He leans down further and starts pressing butterfly kisses on your neck. You let out a soft whimper before biting your lip. 

“Tell me what’s wrong.” He says before kissing your neck again. He makes his way up to your jaw and starts placing kisses there as well. 

You grip his shoulders tightly as you try to answer him but you couldn’t think of any words. Your mind was hazy, trying to tell him what was bothering you. You let another whimper when he harshly sucks on your neck, leaving a mark there. He pulls back and smiles devilishly at the mark he left before placing one last kiss on it. 

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll stop.” He says and you whimper again while shaking your head. 

“I can’t- I can’t concentrate if you do that.” You admit and he softly chuckles. 

He pulls back fully and looks into your eyes, his eyes begging for you to answer him. With a sigh, you look away from him and close your eyes before opening them and speaking. 

“What are we?” You ask and he furrows his brows. 

“What do you mean?” He asks for clarification. 

“I mean what are we? Why are you buying me gifts and acting like you’re my boyfriend when you’re not.” You say and feel your eyes getting teary. 

“I don’t like feeling like this Jeno. I don’t like feeling like the second option.” You say and he puts your legs down to hold your waist and bring you closer. 

“What do you mean it feels like a second choice?” He asks and you sigh again. 

“The first night we met and you slept in my room. You called me Giselle and begged for me to not leave you.” You admit and sniffle. 

Jeno shushes you and brings your head into his chest. After you calmed down a bit, he pulled back and looked at you again. 

“I promise, I’m over her. I don’t know why I said that, it was probably because Jaemin asked me about the situation and seeing her again… it was just too much for me.” He explains and cups your face into his hands. 

“I would never hurt you, princess.” He says and you whimper at the pet name. He chuckles at your response and brings his face closer to yours. 

“Can I kiss you.” 

You nod your head and that’s all Jeno needs before he crashes his lips onto yours. His lips were soft and tasted like mint. You followed his rhythm while wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands go lower to your butt and cups them, earning a moan from you. 

He smiles at the sound and pulls away from you to place kisses on your neck once again. “Jeno.” You moan his name, and he smiles into your neck. 

He smiles at the sound and pulls away from you to place kisses on your neck once again. “Jeno.” You moan his name and he smiles into your neck. 

“We should head inside.” You say unwrapping yourself from him. 

He nods his head at your suggestion and lets go of your waist. You slowly back away from him and smile shyly before turning around to walk out of the pool. He stares at your ass as you walk out and lets out a groan. 

“Do you have to look so hot walking out of the pool?” He retorts to you and you turn to flip him off jokingly before grabbing your towel and wrapping it around your body. 

He steps out of the pool as well and grabs his towel. You wait for him to dry himself off before the two of you walk back inside the house. A shy smile adorned your face the whole time. You still didn’t know what you and Jeno were, but at least you knew that he was completely over Giselle. 

You walk into your room and grab your skincare as well as a change of clothes before heading to the bathroom to shower. Slowly, you took off your clothes and stepped into the shower. The hot water burns your skin but that’s how you liked your showers. 

You lathered your rose scented shampoo into your hands before thoroughly applying it into your hair. You couldn’t help but think about what just happened. Your heart was bursting just remembering the kiss. You felt like a teenage girl experiencing some kind of first love. 

You softly giggled at your thoughts as you finished your shower. Stepping out of the tub, you reached over to a new towel to dry your body and apply some moisturizer on your face. As you rubbed the moisturizer between your hands, you glanced at the ring on your middle finger and smiled again. 

After changing into your pajamas (a pair of blue loose sweats and a white cropped tank top), you blow dried your hair. Once you were done, you walked out of the bathroom and into your shared room with Jeno. He was laying on the bed, having finished his shower earlier than you. 

He smiled and watched as you put your things away. He shuts off his phone and places it on the nightstand next to where he’s sleeping. You walk over to the bed and lift the covers up so you could slide in next to him. 

“Hi.” You softly say to him and he shortly laughs before greeting you back. 

“How was your shower?” He asks and you snuggle into the pillow. 

“It was relaxing, how was yours?” He turns his body to face you. 

“Good, I feel clean.” He replies and you stare into his eyes. 

Hesitantly, you bring your pointer finger up and trace his facial features. You traced over his eyebrows and nose before making your way to his mole under his eye. He laughs and his eyes turn into those little crescent moons that you love so much. 

“I love your eyes.” You say and trace over his eyelashes. 

“I like when they turn into moons when you smile.” You say and he laughs before grabbing your hand and placing it on his chest. 

You can feel his heartbeat, it was speeding up. You chuckle softly and look at him with your eyebrows raised. 

“My heart does that every time I think about you.” He softly says and you nuzzle your face into your pillow, getting shy. 

“Stop it.” You say and giggle. 

‘It’s the truth.” He says and brings your hand to his lips. 

He places a chaste kiss onto the back of your hand before placing it back onto his chest. 

“When we get back home, would you like to go on a date with me?” He asks, staring straight into your eyes. 

You nod your head and your lips curl up into a smile. “I would love to.” 

You lift your head up from the pillow and Jeno opens his arms to let you embrace him. His arms wrap securely around your figure and he sighs in content. 

“Goodnight, Jen.” You say to him and nuzzle in closer to his body. 

“Sweet dreams, princess.” He says and places a quick kiss onto your head before nuzzling into it. 

The both of you stay in that position all night long. His heartbeat and touch brought a sense of comfort to you and you didn’t ever want to let go of that feeling. Meanwhile, the boy next you was feeling the exact same way. 

-

Jeno wakes up the next morning reaching for your body only to be disappointed when he opens his eyes and realizes you’re not there. He rubs the sleepiness from his eyes and gets out of bed. 

Making his way to the kitchen, he’s greeted by the sight of you cutting up some fruit. You were so focused on cutting the watermelon that you didn’t hear him approach you. You slightly panic when you feel arms wrap around you from behind but once you recognize the rings, you instantly smile. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” You say to him and he grumbles in response. 

He places his chin on your shoulder and looks over at the watermelon that you’re currently cutting up. 

“That looks good." He comments and you giggle softly. 

“Do you want a piece?” You softly ask and feel his head nod on your shoulder. 

You grab a piece that you’ve already cut up and raise it to his lips. He opens up and eats the fruit from your hands. 

“Yummy?” You ask and he nods his head again in response. 

The conversation dies down after that. Occasionally, you would feed him pieces of fruit while he gladly ate them. Once you cut up enough fruit for all of you guys to enjoy, you turn around in his embrace to look at him. 

He smiles at you and leans in closer. He closes his eyes, going in for a kiss but you’re quicker. You shove a piece of strawberry into his mouth and he grumbles. 

“Someone might walk in.” You say softly and he shakes his head. 

“I don’t care. Let them see.” He says and leans in again. 

You shriek and escape from his grasp with the bowl of fruit in your hands. 

“Go wash up.” You tell him and he grumbles softly before walking into the bathroom. 

Today, you were all going to the beach and having a bonfire night. You put sunscreen, sunglasses and two towels in your bag, one for you and one for Jeno. After packing up the bag, you walk over to your duffel bag and pull out your baby pink bikini. 

After changing into it, your hickey was on display for everyone to see, so you looked into your bag for an oversized shirt. Jeno walks in just at that moment and whistles at you. You stand up from where you’re bending over and roll your eyes at him. 

“What are you looking for, princess?” He walks closer to you and you sigh. 

“I’m looking for an oversize shirt to wear over my bikini, but I don’t think I packed any.” You pout and he laughs before unzipping his duffel bag. 

He digs through his bag and pulls out a gray t-shirt. He looks at it for a second before walking over you and handing it to you. 

“Here you go.” He says and smiles when you grab it. 

You slip it on and look at yourself in the mirror. His shirt barely covered your ass but at least you were more covered than before. 

“Thanks, Jen.” You say and turn to place a quick kiss on his cheek which makes him blush. 

He waits for you to grab your bag before holding his hand out for you. You take his hand in yours and the both of you walk to the beach, catching up with the rest of your friends. 

-

You were sitting on the big beach towel with Mina and Yunjin and catching up on last night’s events. 

“I knew it!” Yunjin squeals and pulls you into her embrace. 

You laugh and pat her back while observing the boys play in the water. Haechan was on Mark’s shoulder, Chenle on Jeno’s, and Jisung on Jaemin’s while Renjun was the referee. They were playing chicken fight and trying to knock each other off. 

You grabbed your phone and quickly took photos of Jeno just for you to keep before taking pictures of the three of you. After spending about 3 hours in the sun, you all agreed that it was time to go back to the house. 

Once everyone was back, they all went to their separate rooms, tired from their beach day. You quickly washed your feet before slipping into bed with Jeno for a nap. Jeno’s arms were around you and he had that devilish smirk he always has on. 

He sits up and lays on top of you, his necklace dangling over you. He slides his shirt over his head and  you widen your eyes and try to stop him but he pins your hands above your head. He leans in and starts placing kisses on your jaw before going lower. 

You softly moan and try to break free from his grip, wanting to touch him. He slightly chuckles before releasing your hands. Instantly, they travel to his hair and you slightly pull on it. He sucks particularly hard on your soft spot and you let out a loud moan. 

“Quiet, princess. We don’t want everyone hearing you do we?” He says to you with his head tilted as if he was mocking you. 

You whimper and bite your bottom lip to keep the noises from coming out. His hands teasingly run up and down the sides of your torso. 

“Jeno.” You softly whisper and he chuckles. 

“I know, baby. You gotta be patient okay? Can you do that for me?” He asks, looking into your eyes and you nod your head. 

“Good girl.” He says and his fingers slowly go towards the waistband of your shorts. 

Your belly button piercing on display for him to see and he groans at the sight of it glimmering underneath him. He pushes his fingers against your core teasingly which draws out a whimper from you. 

“Take it off please.” You beg and he almost cums at how whiny you sound. He slowly pulls your shorts down and sees the growing wet spot on your pink lacy panties. 

“You’re such a slut.” He degrades and you whine from his usage of words. 

“M’ not.” You defend and writhe underneath him. 

“No?” He asks teasingly before sliding a finger in between your folds through your panties. 

“Jeno.” You moan loudly at the contact and he brings his hands over your lips to muffle the noises. 

“Quiet baby.” He says and removes his hands from your mouth while leaning into your neck. 

‘You’re so wet, princess. Who are you so wet for huh?” He asks while sliding your panties down to your thighs. 

Your glistening folds make his dick grow even more and he can’t help himself. He slides his finger through your folds teasingly as you try to contain your moans. Your hands go around to his back and grip him tightly. He slips a finger into your hole and you squeeze your eyes shut. 

You moan loudly at the feeling of his fingers inside of you, not answering his question. Jeno groans at your lack of answering and rips your panties off your body. You gasp as you hear the tearing of fabric.

“Jeno! Those were my favorite.” You say and he darkly chuckles. 

He moves one of his hands from your waist to your neck. His grip tightens and you gasp at the feeling of your airway being blocked. 

“You answer me when I ask you a question, princess.” He says seductively and stops pumping his fingers into you.

You whine at the loss of friction and he squints his eyes at you before pulling out completely. 

“No.” You quietly whimper out and Jeno tightens his grip around your neck even more. 

“Answer me.” He growls and you can feel your heat getting wetter. 

“You!” You say, trying your best to get the words out. 

He smirks and brings his lips back onto yours. His grip gets even tighter making you feel light headed from the loss of oxygen. He slowly lets go of your neck and pushes his finger into your heat again. You moan into his lips and he feels his cock getting harder. 

He pushes in another finger and you moan into his ear. “Jeno please!” You beg and he laughs cockily at you. He kisses your cheek before moving to your ear. 

“Please what, princess? What do you want?” He asks and you groan in frustration. 

“Please. Mphh… Want you inside me.” You say, whining when his fingers start to pump faster and harder into you. 

“Jeno! M’ gonna cum!” You babble and he groans into your ear. 

“C’mon princess, cum all over my fingers. I know you can do it. You’ve been such a good girl.” He says and edges you on even more. 

Your moans grow progressively louder and Jeno has to clamp his hands over your mouth again to muffle them. You feel the knot in your stomach tighten before it breaks. You finish with a loud moan that’s muffled but he doesn’t stop his ministrations. He moves his fingers even faster causing you to try to push him away. 

“Jeno! M’ sensitive!” You muffle out, gripping his arm hoping that he’ll remove his fingers but he doesn't. 

He grabs your hands and pins them against the bed again. He licks a stripe up your neck and sucks harshly again, leaving a trail of his marks starting from your ear all the way down to your chest. 

“Jeno, I’m gonna-” You're interrupted when a second orgasm washes over you and you let out a shrilling moan, hoping that no one was awake to hear. 

"That's it baby.” He says and slowly pulls his fingers from your heat. 

You babble and hum out incoherent words as you try to catch your breath. He pushes his shorts past his dick and gets on his knees. You look at his angry red tip. He was so huge and you gasp as you try to squirm away from him. 

“Jeno, I can’t.” You attempt to say through heaving breaths but he just laughs and grips your thighs to bring you back closer to him. 

“Yes you can, baby. I know you can take it." He says and spreads your legs further apart. He lines up his tip with your entrance. He lets out a quiet groan when he feels your gummy walls around him. 

You bite your lip to not let you moans out as you feel his bare dick inside you and you try to catch your breath. He was so much bigger than you expected. The stretch was too painful as he quickly pushed himself all the way in. He was bigger than anything you’ve ever taken before.

“S’ too big.” You mewl out and he laughs. 

You were fueling his ego even more and you didn’t even know it. 

“I know, baby. I know.” He says and stays still for a bit so you can get used to his size. After a minute, you nod your head and give him the green light. 

He pulls out and slams himself back into you causing you to put your hands over your mouth. You chant his name in your hands like a mantra and that only fuels him more. 

He starts thrusting inside you harder, faster, and deeper. You quickly wrap your hands around him and shove your face into his neck. He was reaching places that you didn’t even know existed. Your vision was so blurry, you felt like you were seeing stars. Your freshly done nails scratched against his back and biceps. 

“I can feel you, baby. You’re almost there.” He says into your ear and you nod your head. His grip on your hips were so tight, you were sure there were going to be bruises tomorrow. 

‘C’mon baby, cum. Cream all over my dick.” He says raspily into your ears and that’s all you need before the knot comes undone, creaming all over his cock. He groans at the sight and chases after his own orgasm. 

He finishes inside of you and leans his head into your neck. He places kisses all over the marks he left on your body. You smile and run your fingers through his hair. Giggling, you pull his head away from your neck and place a quick kiss on his lips. 

He smiles and leans his forehead against yours. He breathes you in deeply with you doing the same. The smile never leaves both of your faces. Your tummy was so warm with his cock buried inside, you didn't want him to pull away. 

However he does and you wince at the loss of him. His cum leaks out of your whole and he reaches down to push it back in. 

“Jeno!” You yelp and he laughs before sliding his finger out. 

“Didn’t want it to go to waste.” He says while looking at his art work. Your core was throbbing with spurts of white escaping and he felt himself getting hard again but he knew you couldn’t go on anymore. 

He grabs his discredited shirt off the floor and wipes at your core before grabbing another pair of panties from your bag. He slides it up your thighs and places a kiss over them before pulling his own shorts and boxers up. 

You get up from the bed to go pee before getting back into bed with him. He wraps his arms around you again as you lay close to him. You sigh blissfully as he places his head in between your boobs. He gets a perfect view of your neck covered in his marks from there and smirks. Your hands go to his hair and you start playing with it. Sooner or later the both of you pass out from exhaustion. 

-

Your eyes flutter open as you look around for Jeno but he is nowhere to be found. The sunlight from earlier is now gone. You get out of bed and change into a pair of sweats. You knew it was a bit chilly outside since you could see the tree leaves swaying back and forth. 

You go to Jeno’s bag and pull out a black hoodie. Quickly slipping it on, you walk outside to the bonfire where everyone is sitting. You walk up to Jeno who gestures for you to sit on him. You sit down on his lap and wrap your arms around his neck. 

He passes the blunt to Jaemin before wrapping his arms around you. 

“Do you want a drink, Yn?” Jisung asks and hands you a cup filled with jungle juice. You slightly thank him before taking a sip. 

“Good?” The man under you asks and you nod your head at him. 

He glances at your hoodie and notices that it’s his. He doesn’t say anything but he smiles at the thought of you wearing his clothes again. 

You watch the fire as everyone around you engages in their own conversations. Looking around, you catch Jaemin looking at you and Jeno. He brings his hands up and gives you a thumbs up which causes you to laugh slightly. 

You look back down to Jeno to find him already staring at you. He slightly chuckles and intertwines your hands together. You smile sheepishly and he can’t help but to plant a kiss on your cheek. You gasp and hit his shoulder lightly with your free hand while he laughs. 

You pull your phone out from your (his) hoodie pocket and furrow your eyebrows when you see that Giselle started following you on Instagram. Quietly, you show it to Jeno who rolls his eyes. 

“Just block her, that’s what I did.” He says and you nod your head but you don’t actually do it. You just turn your phone off. 

-

Unfortunately time flew by too fast and you found yourself in class 3 months later. Your professor was rambling on about something that you could care less about. You looked at the clock and let out a breath of relief when you noticed that there was only 5 minutes left of class. 

Quietly, you start packing up your bag and shutting down your laptop. Just as you finish packing, the professor dismisses you guys while talking about the assignment due next week. You jump out of your seat as soon as she’s done talking and quickly walk out. 

Your phone pings and you look at it while walking. 

we’re waiting for you baby -jen

okay, coming! :) -princess 

You quickly speed up and walk over to the parking lot where everyone was gathered around their cars. You happily skip to Jeno who’s leaning against the hood of his car. His arms open wide as he waits for you to embrace him. 

He groans when you throw your arms around his neck and smiles. 

“Missed you.” He says and squeezes you tighter to him. 

“You just saw me this morning.” You say with a giggle and he shrugs his shoulders. 

“I always miss you.” He admits and kisses you quickly on the lips. 

Jeno and you finally made it official a few weeks ago after “talking” for two months. You guys were on a date like usual only this time you guys were walking in the park and enjoying the first snowfall of the season. 

“I love the snow.” You say, smiling wildly as you catch a falling snow in your hand. 

Jeno observes the way your eyes light up as you bring it closer to your face to inspect it. He felt his heartbeat fasten and he knew he had to ask you right then and there. He tugs on your hand that he was holding and you look up at him. 

What’s wrong?” You ask as you stare into his eyes. 

Jeno inhales sharply before looking at you. 

“Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks quickly and your eyes widen. 

You softly let out a laugh and wrap your arms around him and he reciprocates. You pull away and plant a kiss onto his lips before pulling away and squealing with a “Yes!” 

He laughs at your reaction and brings you in closer. His hand going to cradle your head as he connects both of your lips together again. 

Your arms go to his waist as you hold him tightly while kissing him back. He pulls away and you nuzzle your head into his chest. His arms squeeze and pull you in closer. The snowfall started falling harder but you both didn’t care. You stood there in each other’s embrace as the snow hit the ground.

“Let’s go.” Jaemin says and the eight of you pile into the cars to head over to lunch. Jeno opens the passenger door for you and you quickly get in before he closes it and rushes over to the driver’s seat. He gets in and places his hand on your thigh. 

You smile and grab his hand that’s on yours before he reverses his car and pulls out of the parking lot. Jeno wasn’t in your plans when you first arrived but you’re so glad he meddled his way into your life. As you look over at him, you smile and press a kiss to his cheek which makes me smile. 

His eyes make those cute little crescent moons that you love so damn much. He brings your hand to his lips and kisses the back of it before placing your hands back into your lap. You fell hard for Jeno and you still continue to fall hard for him. 

No amount of measurements could measure how happy you feel right now. If falling for someone felt this good, you would’ve done it a long time ago. But then again, maybe it only feels good because it’s Lee Jeno you’re falling for. 

End.

Thank you So much for reading my first ever fic! I spent so much time planning and rewriting this, but I'm glad to finally have it out for you guys to read. Sending you lots of love and kisses!

xoxo, jenoroyals

[phant0mth1ef]

are we still friends? can we be friends? are we still friends? i’ve got to… know. (pt. 2 to the feeling that i’m losing her, forever). part 3

to say you didn’t expect to see a pair of bright red eyes staring you down as you walked into the facility was an understatement, you hadn’t made eye contact with those eyes in over a year, and you flinched the moment you realized just who you were looking at.

you’d stumbled into inasa once you snapped out of your daze, catching yourself quickly as your cap hit the floor, the boy using his wind in order to float it back onto your head.

“thank you.” you mumbled before going to take your spot in line, coincidentally right next to your former best friend.

“why haven’t you called me?!” so now he wants to begin a conversation.

“been busy.” you shrugged, refusing to even look at him because you knew you’d start crying the moment you met his eyes again.

“okay? you could’ve texted me or some shit!”

“my phone stopped working.” you were competing for the title of nonchalant final boss at this point with how casual you were being.

“bullshit. i saw you with it at the exam! just tell me why you’re avoiding me like the plague.” it may not have looked like it, but bakugou was scared out of his mind. you’d changed since the licensing exam, he could sense it in the way you carried yourself. you were being cold.

“what the hell happened to you?? you used to always call me, always text me. what happened?” did he seriously not know what happened?

“you happened.” and that was all you were able to say before the proctors for the training session entered the room, quickly commanding you all to stand in line as your face changed to a softer expression.

it was a casual sparring session, so why were you sending rocks the size of boulders his way? his mind was too clouded to even dodge them effectively, the words you said still playing out in his mind as he mindlessly sent out explosive attacks.

you’d tried to pack up as quickly as possible afterwards to avoid a confrontation with your former best friend, but you heard the clanking of his boots hitting the ground and just let out a sigh.

“what?” you snapped.

“what me? what you!” he was starting to get angry, the way he would get angry back in middle school.

“what about me?! you’re also at fault here. i was the one always trying to get in contact with you! i just grew up and realized that if you wanted to, you would.” you begun to shove all your things into your duffel bag, accidentally smashing your fist into the ground.

“what the hell does that even mean?! you’re the one who stopped calling me outta nowhere. i didn’t tell you to do that.”

“don’t you get it?! i was the one always calling!” you shoved your bag to the floor as you stood up straight, your voice getting strained as you finally made eye contact with bakugou.

“i was the one who always had to start talking to you first! it made me feel like a nuisance. and then one day i hear you telling your new friends that you think i’m annoying? like what the fuck, katsuki. none of this is my fault. if you’d just been a man and picked up the phone, this could’ve been avoided.” you had a habit of crying once you got frustrated, so naturally the tears were threatening to fall from your eyes.

he didn’t have any words, letting out a scoff as you picked up your bag and shoulder checked him on your way out, sending him stumbling back as he just stared at the ghost of your presence.

later that night he sat in his dorm room, his finger hovering over your contact but never once pressing on it, unsure of what he’d even say if you decided to pick up.

“i mean how the hell am i supposed to apologize? she’s so confusing. like damn sorry i called you annoying but it isn’t even that big of a deal anymore that was months ago!” bakugou was ranting to his little group of friends that were huddled on his floor, suprised that the boy would even invite them, let alone drone on about his issues with the friend that none of them even knew about.

“so you called her annoying but you didn’t know she was listening?” mina spoke up.

“yes but that was months ago! i don’t even know how to talk to her anymore because she won’t listen to me.” he sprawled flat on his bed.

“sounds like you’ve dug yourself a deep hole bakugou.” kirishima said, a hint of disappointment in his tone.

meanwhile, back at shiketsu, your group was currently huddled in camie’s dorm, and you sat on the bed while they formed a circle around you.

“i don’t know who he thinks he is but i am not going to beg for him to be my friend, i am not going to be as pathetic as i used to be!” slow teardrops fell from your eyes as you recalled back in middle school when bakugou found more friends and slowly begun to leave you behind.

“i know, and i get that, but you should at least try to give him a chance. he’s making an effort.” she tossed you your phone that was sitting on the desk, a notification on the lock screen.

[kats 💥🫂]

Meet me at the spot tomorrow. Please. 4 PM.

tags; @riverozada @lupitalove @msjaeger @aintseennothinyet @wendeeeee ask and you shall receive sorry if its kinda bad 😢😢

[itsnesss]

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 | rafe cameron × fem!reader

summary | you confront your former friend, rafe, at a party about his arrogant behavior and how he’s lost the person he used to be. despite his resistance, you see a hint of vulnerability, and you offer him a chance to change

warnings | strong language, emotional confrontation, themes of arrogance and vulnerability, personal growth

word count | 1.8 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The party is in full swing. The lights flicker above the crowd, creating an atmosphere that feels more like a spectacle than a celebration. And you, though you try to enjoy yourself, can only think of one thing: Rafe. The guy who used to be your friend, the one you shared laughs, secrets, and endless afternoons talking about everything and nothing at the same time.

But today, he's a different person. Today, he's surrounded by his entourage, with that arrogant attitude that doesn't even surprise you, but definitely annoys you. You've been warned, of course. Rafe has changed. And not in a way that you like.

You watch him from the corner of the room. He’s in his element, chatting with everyone, bragging about his conquests, his exaggerated stories. His friends worship him, follow him, laugh at his jokes. But you’re not fooled. You know that underneath all of that, there’s a guy who used to be different. The Rafe you knew was impulsive, sure, but also loyal and genuine. Now he seems to be covered by a layer of arrogance that he can’t even hide.

A moment later, your eyes meet his. The connection is brief, as it always was. But this time it’s different. There’s something in the way he looks at you, something that tells you he’s not the same guy anymore. Rafe’s look is no longer that of a friend. It’s that of a stranger.

It’s hard to let it go, but you force yourself to. You don’t want to confront him, not here, not now. However, as you make your way to the bar, he appears beside you, as if he were looking for you. He smiles, but that smile doesn't have the warmth it used to have. It’s arrogant, the same one he wears when he feels in control. And you know that what’s coming next won’t be just a simple hello.

“Hey, princess,” his voice is dripping with sarcasm. He doesn’t even bother to hide it.

You look at him, but you can’t help but feel that there’s something else in his words. Something that makes you uncomfortable. “Don’t call me that,” you respond, letting the tone of your voice be firm. “What are you looking for, Rafe? Why do you act like you're the center of the universe?”

He laughs, but it’s an empty laugh, as if he's trying to convince himself of something. “Come on, seriously? Don’t you see what’s going on here? I’m the guy everyone wants to know. You can’t deny it.”

“I’m not denying it,” you reply, raising an eyebrow. “But that doesn’t make you the king of anything. It just makes you an idiot. You’re surrounded by people who worship you, but you have no idea who you really are. You’re not the person you were a year ago.”

Rafe doesn’t seem to expect those words. He stops for a second, looking at you. But no, he’s not surprised. He’s pissed off. As always, he responds to criticism with a shield of indifference. “What do you know about me?” he asks, raising an eyebrow, the typical challenging look he used to give when something bothered him.

And in that moment, you remember that Rafe you knew, the one who didn’t need to show his power to be respected. The guy who used to share secrets with you, who used to listen to your stories and share his without needing to impress anyone. But that guy seems to be gone. And all that's left now is a grown-up kid with too much pride and too much fear of being vulnerable.

“I know you because I knew you,” you reply, looking him straight in the eye. “I know what you were before all this. What you were when you didn’t have to act like you were better than everyone else. Do you really think all of this makes you more interesting? More happy?”

Rafe steps toward you, and the air between you thickens instantly. The noise of the party seems to fade as you realize the words you’ve just spoken have hit a sensitive spot. For a moment, he stops being the arrogant guy. He’s just staring at you, as if he's remembering something he’s tried to bury.

“Don’t talk to me like that,” he says, his tone lower, but filled with a subtle venom. “You don’t know what I’ve had to do to get here. You don’t know anything about what’s happened. So don’t start giving me lectures on who I am, understood?”

And that’s when you understand. It’s no longer just arrogance. It’s not just pride. It’s fear. The fear you have when you realize you’re no longer who you used to be, and you don’t know how to go back.

“I’m not giving you lectures, Rafe,” you say, not looking away. “I’m just telling you the truth. We don’t need you like this. We don’t need a guy who hides behind his ego, or someone who needs to be the center of everything to feel good about themselves. We need the Rafe from before. The one who was real, not the one who’s trying to be someone else.”

Rafe seems to freeze for a second, as if those words have reached him deep down. His anger in his eyes subsides, but it doesn’t go away. “I’m not that guy,” he mutters, his words a broken whisper that surprises you.

“You are, Rafe,” you reply, but your voice is softer now. “You just don’t want to admit it. You’re afraid to be him. You’re afraid no one will accept you for who you really are. But you don’t have to keep up this act. You just need to stop pretending and be yourself.”

A long silence follows. He looks at you, his eyes devoid of the rage he had shown before. You’re about to say something else, but Rafe steps back and sighs.

“Maybe you’re right,” he says, in a voice quieter and less certain than you’ve ever heard. “Maybe it’s just that... I’ve lost my way. I don’t know how to find my way back.”

At that moment, you know that, although he won’t admit it, something has changed in him. Maybe not everything, but at least a small part of his pride, that layer he used to cover himself with. And although his facade is still there, you can see a crack. The spark of the person he used to be.

“You don’t have to do it alone,” you say, sincerely. “You just need to want to change. And I... I’m still here, if you need me. But I can’t stay if you keep being this version of yourself.”

Rafe doesn’t respond immediately, just staring at you, as if trying to process everything you just said. Finally, his face softens a little, though the shadow of his arrogance is still present.

“Maybe one day I’ll get it,” he murmurs, before turning to walk toward the crowd. “But today’s not that day.”

And even though you wish it were, you understand that change doesn’t happen overnight. Rafe is lost, but maybe, just maybe, this conversation was the first step to finding his way back. And for now, that’s enough.

[keeryhours]

the needle and the damage done - chapter two

Older! Rockstar! Eddie Munson x female! reader

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Summary:

The band stages an intervention.

Warnings:

(18+), heavy drug use (heroin, cocaine), addiction, strung out Eddie, pregnancy, mention of miscarriage

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N:

Finally chapter 2! Thanks so much for reading!

—

Eddie awoke feeling like he’d been hit by a truck.

He didn’t even know where he was at first. He was sitting on a hard floor, slumped against a wall. He looked around, trying to figure out where he was and what he’d done - a usual occurrence for him. He wasn’t at home, that was for sure. He wasn’t at his dealer’s house, because this bathroom was actually clean and nice. It didn’t click until he saw the hand towels hanging on the wall, red embroidered E’s on them.

Oh. Gareth’s guest bathroom.

He looked around. The used syringe had fallen onto the floor next to him, along with the tourniquet. He must have passed out right after. His little baggie of smack also laid on the tiled floor, the white powder slightly spilling from the top. Eddie was struck by panic when he realized, scooping as much of it as possible back into the bag. Great job, Eddie, you fucking loser, he thought to himself. He had plenty of money, sure, but he still wasn’t about to waste any.

His kit was open on the floor, supplies spilling out. He must have been desperate for a fix. His cotton balls, syringes, alcohol wipes, tin foil and spoon were half on the floor. He’d have to throw some of it out.

Eddie debated on doing another shot. He had some coke in his pocket, he remembered; he could do a speedball. The idea excited him, made him feel alive. He had pulled the drugs from his pocket and was about to start measuring his dose when a loud banging came from the door. He jumped, nearly dropping his stuff, which immediately made him even more irritated than he was from the withdrawals that were already starting.

“What?” Eddie called through the door.

“Eddie, man, come out of there,” Gareth’s voice traveled through the door. “The guys are here. We wanna talk to you.”

Eddie’s head thudded back against the wall. “Can it wait, man? I’m kinda busy.”

It was quiet for a moment. “Eddie, come out.”

He cursed under his breath, shoving everything back into his kit. He quickly pushed the box under the sink where hopefully no one would look. “Yeah, okay. Give me a minute.”

Eddie stood, looking at himself in the mirror. He looked like absolute hell. Like he hadn’t showered or brushed his hair in days, and had been wearing the same clothes. Those things were probably all true. He ran his fingers through his curls, working out some tangles and straightening his dirty clothes before he opened the bathroom door.

“Yeah?”

Gareth took in his appearance, a look of…pity? on his face. He leaned over to look behind Eddie, like he was looking for something.

“What?” Eddie asked again, the irritation clear in his voice.

“The guys are here, we all want to talk to you,” Gareth repeated. “They’re out in the living room. Come out and talk to us.”

Gareth didn’t give him a choice as he turned and walked away. Eddie sighed, but followed behind him to the main room of the large house. He found Jeff and Grant sitting on the couch, Gareth standing. Gareth gestured for Eddie to sit in the chair.

Eddie was suspicious. Everyone was looking at him so seriously. He felt like a child that was about to be scolded. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Sit down, Eddie,” Jeff said this time.

Eddie looked at Jeff, incredulous. He was a grown ass 37 year old man. “What is this?”

“Just sit down, man,” Grant said.

Eddie looked at each of his (former) bandmates with his brows furrowed, but finally sat down in the chair. He waited for someone to speak. He had a bad feeling about this.

“Look,” Gareth started. “You know I love you. You know we all love you. But this is out of hand.”

Eddie shook his head. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

They all looked at him, that stupid pitying look on each of their faces. It made Eddie uncomfortable. He didn’t like this. Gareth took a deep breath.

“Eddie, you’re ruining your life with these drugs. We’re tired of watching our best friend slowly kill himself. And frankly, I’m tired of you sleeping on my couch and shooting up in my bathroom. As much as me and Roz both love you, we can’t let you keep doing this.”

Eddie looked at his best friend with wide eyes. Was this really happening? He opened his mouth to speak, but Grant spoke first.

“What’s going on, Eddie? This isn’t the guy we know and love,” he said.

Eddie scoffed. “Nothings going on. I’m fine.”

“Then why aren’t you home with your family?” Gareth asked, exasperated. “Why are you sleeping in my den? You have a wife and three amazing kids. Don’t you want to be at home with them?”

Eddie was quiet for a minute. Then, finally, “Four,” he muttered under his breath.

His three friends’ eyes went wide. “What?” Jeff asked.

“Four,” Eddie said again, looking down at his hands as he twisted one of his rings around his finger. “She’s…pregnant again.”

It was so silent you could hear a pin drop. After a minute, Gareth rubbed his hands over his face. “Jesus Christ, Ed.”

Eddie had never felt so guilty in his life. The thought of you, his daughters, and his unborn child made him feel like the worst man to ever live. He had abandoned you all, and he knew it. But he still found his fingers itching for the drugs hidden in the bathroom.

“You know your wife and kids miss you,” Jeff said. “Those girls don’t understand why you’re not home. They don’t understand when you come home all strung out. Do you ever think about that?”

That made Eddie feel even worse. He didn’t know what to say.

“Yeah,” Gareth added, “You know Roz talks to her all the time. She misses you. The girls ask about you constantly. And, honestly Ed, I miss my best friend. The Eddie Munson who was so full of life, who loved music and loved his family and friends more than anything.”

“You have so much to live for,” Grant said. “It doesn’t make any sense why you’re doing this to yourself. Your youngest is what, 3? And now you have another on the way? Come on, man. You’re really gonna let those kids grow up without a father?”

The words hit Eddie like a punch to the chest. He loved his girls fiercely - that included you. You were the love of his life. Always had been, always would be. And now he had gotten you pregnant again, and here he was at Gareth’s house getting high all day.

“We know she gave you an ultimatum,” Jeff said. “But you’re still here doing the same old thing.”

Eddie felt horrible. It was all true. He was a mess, and he did abandon you and his kids. But god, what was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just stop. Not at this point. Every time he stopped, even just for a day, he got so unbearably sick, sweating and his body aching.

“It’s not that simple,” Eddie finally responded. “I can’t just stop.”

“We never said it was simple,” Gareth said, the pity evident in his voice. Eddie thinks that made it worse. “It’s not going to be easy at all. But we’re all here for you, man. And I know your wife would be right by your side the entire time if you decide to get clean. You just have to commit and put in the effort.”

Eddie shook his head. “You don’t get it, man.”

“What do we not get?” Jeff asked, sounding irritated now. “We get it, Ed. We get that you’re killing yourself with fucking drugs while you have so much to live for. We get that you ruined the band because you liked getting high too fucking much. We get that the drugs are the most important fucking thing to you and you chose them over everything else.”

“Dont fucking talk to me like that,” Eddie said, getting more upset by the minute. “You don’t know fucking anything.”

“We know more than you think we do,” Grant chimed in.

Eddie looked at his friends in shock. He could not believe this was happening. He could not believe his friends were staging a fucking intervention.

“This is bullshit,” Eddie said, standing from his chair. “Fucking bullshit.” He grabbed his bag from next to the couch and stormed out of the living room, back to the guest bathroom. He gathered his soaps and toothbrush and toothpaste, making sure to grab his kit from under the sink and shove it into the bag. He walked back out into the room, bag slung over his shoulder, heading for the front door. “Fuck all of you.”

“Eddie, where are you going?” Gareth asked, throwing his hands up in the air. He was tired. “You have nowhere else to go.”

Eddie didn’t answer. He stormed out of the house, slamming the front door behind him. He headed to his car, tossing the bag into the passenger seat before sliding into the driver’s seat.

He needed a fix bad. He was worked up from the confrontation, and the withdrawals were starting to really kick in. He pushed his curly hair out of his sweaty face with a shaking hand. He needed to get out of here.

Eddie pulled out of the driveway, driving the familiar path to his dealer’s apartment.

—

“Evie, can you pick up some of your barbies, honey?” You asked, stepping around the minefield of toys with Ivy on your hip. She was leaning on your shoulder, drowsy and ready for her nap.

“Okay,” Evie said with a dramatic sigh, but she moved to do as she was asked. She was a good kid, always did what she was told and never broke the rules. She had always been your little angel.

“Rhi?” You called, seeing her mess all over the kitchen table. “Please come clean up your art supplies! Remember when you move onto a new activity, put the old one away.”

Rhiannon groaned, stomping into the room with all her sass. “I was going to come back to it!”

“Okay, then you can take it back out when you do,” you said, not willing to argue with the 6 year old right now. You honestly were emotionally drained. Everything with Eddie had been taking a toll on you mentally and physically. Despite the harsh ultimatum you had given him, you were constantly thinking of him, missing him.

Rhiannon cleaned up her papers, paints, and markers, grumbling under her breath. You left the two older girls and walked into Ivy’s bedroom, giving her a kiss on the top of her head and laying her down in her toddler bed for a nap. The small girl rolled right over and went to sleep.

Back in the living room, the two sisters were fighting over the remote, grabbing it from each other, holding it out of reach, and pushing one another.

“What is going on??” You asked in your best Mom Voice.

“I want to watch Spy Kids!” Rhiannon huffed, turning to you with her hands on her hips. “And I had the remote first.”

“Not true!” Evie yelled. “And I want to watch Howl’s Moving Castle!”

You felt a headache coming on. You pinched the bridge of your nose, taking a deep breath. “Okay, how about this. If you can’t agree, neither of you get the remote, and I pick the movie.”

Both girls groaned. “You always pick the boring old movies!” Rhiannon whined.

“Yeah!” Evie agreed.

“Then you better find something to agree on,” you said. The girls went back to bickering as you headed towards the kitchen, but you were stopped by a soft knocking at the door. You could tell who it was based on the fact they knew it was Ivy’s naptime.

You opened the front door to the sight of your best friend and Gareth’s wife, Rozalyn. You nearly burst into tears the second you saw her. She could tell, immediately reaching for you.

You let her embrace you, laying your head on her shoulder and letting the tears fall. She held you, rubbing your back and caressing your hair soothingly.

“It’s alright, babe,” she said softly. “Let it out.”

After you had cried on her shoulder for a few minutes, you stood back up, sniffling and wiping your eyes with your hand. “Sorry. That’s been a long time coming.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me,” Roz said. “I’m your best friend. It’s what I’m here for.”

She followed you into the house. Back in the living room, Evie and Rhiannon had decided on The Haunted Mansion. They looked up as you walked in.

“Auntie Woz!” They both exclaimed, jumping up to tackle your friend with hugs. She laughed, hugging them back tightly. Her heart had been broken for the girls, having to be without their dad, but she was relieved to see they were doing okay.

Once the girls had jumped back onto the couch to watch their movie, you and Roz moved into the kitchen for some privacy. You made both of you some hot tea, handing Roz her mug when you were done.

“How are you holding up?” Roz asked, taking a sip of her hot drink.

“I’m…” you sighed. “I’m holding on, you know? It’s hard. The girls are a handful. They miss their dad. I miss their dad.”

Roz looked at you sympathetically, but not in the condescending kind of way you got from paparazzi and media. “I can imagine.”

“How is he?” You asked nervously, not sure if you wanted to hear the answer. You fiddled with one of your nails nervously.

“He…” Roz sighed. “The guys staged an intervention today.”

Your head snapped up to look in her direction. “Really? How did that go?”

Roz’s melancholy expression was enough of an answer even before she opened her mouth. “Not great. He got upset and stormed out. We don’t know where he went.”

You let out a rush of air, covering your face with your hands as you tried not to cry again. This was all so hard already, but you had been extra emotional with the added hormones from the pregnancy. Roz gently rubbed your arm as you calmed yourself. Once you were sure you weren’t going to burst into tears, you lowered your hands again. “He has nowhere else to go. Wherever he went, it couldn’t be good.”

Roz pursed her lips as she looked at you. “Yeah. I know.”

You sighed, hand absentmindedly moving to rub your stomach, the nonexistent baby bump. You already loved this new little one so much, you just wished Eddie was here. He was always so attentive during your pregnancies, and he loved seeing you pregnant, loved rubbing the belly and talking to his unborn child. That wouldn’t happen this time or ever again, you thought to yourself.

Roz didn’t miss the gesture. She eyed you suspiciously. “Babe…are you…?”

Your eyes darted to hers. You realized what you’d done immediately, a flush creeping into your skin. “Yeah. I’m 6 weeks.”

Roz’s eyes went wide. “Another one??”

You busted out laughing at that. “Oh my god. Yeah, another one.”

“Damn, girl. Three wasn’t enough?”

You laughed even harder. Roz and Gareth didn’t have any kids, didn’t want any, but they both loved your and Eddie’s girls with their whole hearts. “It was a surprise.”

“I’m getting you a box of condoms for your birthday.”

You shoved Roz in the shoulder, making her laugh, too. Things felt normal for the first time in months.

“Do the girls know?” She asked.

“I was waiting until I’m a little farther along,” you said. “Just in case something happens, you know?”

Roz nodded. She understood. You and Eddie had had a miscarriage in the past before Ivy was born, and it was really rough on you both and the girls. You still thought of it sometimes, what could have been if that baby had been born. This would have been baby number five in that case.

The thought of five kids made your head spin. Hell, even four was a lot to wrap your mind around.

You sat with your friend in the kitchen and talked for a few hours. It really did make you feel better. Roz always knew exactly what to say. And it had been so long since you had someone you could talk to about Eddie’s problems. At some point Ivy woke up, so you grabbed her from her crib and got her set up with a snack.

“It’s just…” you sighed, speaking quietly so Ivy wouldn’t overhear. “Like, I can’t explain what it’s like to watch the man you love turn into a stranger.” You wiped the tears away. “He was also so vibrant and fun. And this shit took that away. He’s not the same.”

Roz looked heartbroken for you. “Babe…”

“If a fucking nightmare. It’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. I just want my Eddie back.”

She listened to you vent as much as you needed to. It felt good to get it off your chest. You just wished your words could bring your husband back.

When Roz left, it was much later. You gave your friend a hug at the door, thanking her for coming and wishing her a safe drive home. By the time dinner was made and eaten, the sun had gone down and it was nearing bedtime.

Everyone got baths (except for Evie, who now preferred a shower). You got Rhiannon and Ivy dressed in their pajamas. You gave Evie and Rhiannon their goodnight kisses and tucked them into bed, then took Ivy to her room. You laid her in her toddler bed, reading a few bedtime stories and watching as she slowly started dozing off. You gave her a goodnight kiss on the top of the head then snuck out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind you.

This was the loneliest part of the night without Eddie. Typically if you had a night to yourself you would reach for a little wine, but obviously that wasn’t an option. You sat on the couch and turned the TV on, flipping to a rerun of House. You always liked that show.

As you watched, you started getting drowsy. You had just dozed off when you heard a pounding at your door. You jolted awake, noticing it had started pouring rain outside. You cautiously walked to the door, pulling it open and seeing a very pathetic looking, very wet Eddie in a heap on your porch.

You threw the door open wider. “Eddie, what the hell?”

Eddie was shivering. He looked like hell, looking up at you with big sad brown eyes. “Baby,” he said, his voice weak. It broke your heart.

“What’s going on? Where have you been? Roz said you left.”

“I…” He looked like he was struggling to find words. “I went to my dealer’s and got high, okay? But I realized something. I’m done. I’m done with all of this. I want you and the girls and the baby. I want to get clean, I want to go to rehab.”

Those were the words you’d been longing to hear for so long. You felt immense relief, reaching for Eddie and helping him up and into the house. “Come on, baby. Let’s get you cleaned up. We’ll find a rehab in the morning, we’ll get you help.”

Eddie clung to you like a scared child as you brought him inside. He was shaking, and you weren’t sure if the wetness was only from the rain or if he was sweating, too. You had seen Eddie withdrawing enough times to know it was kicking in. He was high so often that it never took long.

You helped him bathe and got him set up in bed. You crawled in afterwards, wrapping your arms around his middle and holding him close, like he so often did to you. You were going to get through this. You were going to call rehabs in the morning and find Eddie the best one available. It was going to be okay.

You just hoped he was serious this time.

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[flemingsfreckles]

Physio’s Daughter Part 13 (epilogue)

Jessie Fleming x Reader

The whole series is here!

Warnings: none

WC: 2.5k

A/N: I’m not even sure what to put here, thank you to everyone who read this. I never expected people to like it as much as you all did and I never expected myself to be writing 13 parts but here we are. I appreciate every single person who’s left a like or reblogged or commented or send me asks about this series, I wouldn’t have ever had the motivation or ideas to write this series. Thank you 🥹

I’ve thought about writing some little blurbs/headcannons type things if you guys wanted to hear the details of how I thought the middle 20+ years that this went through would go. If that’s something yall want just feel free to send requests and I’ll write them. (I’m not quite ready to let go of this series of you couldn’t tell)

“You ready for this?” You squeezed Jessie hand tightly, trying to reassure her and give her peace of mind.

“As ready as I think I can be.”

That’s when you hear the announcement.

“And for her final time representing and leading Canada, please welcome Jessie Fleming.”

Jessie looks over at you one more time. You give her a nod and a tight squeeze on her hand before letting her go and she walks out onto the field. The cheering for her is deafening and you hear it for a moment before it all is drowned out by your ears ringing as your brain goes fuzzy at the realization that you’re watching your wife walk onto the field for the last time ever.

You watch as she walks out, looking around and making her way to the middle where a ceremonial framed jersey was waiting for her. You had both cried enough tears over her retirement decision, you had pinky promised that today was going to be a celebration, no tears.

“Mommy!” You feel the tug on your arm and look down to see your and Jessie's four year old daughter tugging on your hand while her other arm waved wildly toward the field. “Can we go with Mama?”

“Just a second baby.” You look down at your daughter, she’s just excited to see her Mama play, she hasn’t quite been able to grasp the idea of Jessie’s retirement. You knew she’d probably be asking when she can go watch her play again in just a few days.

You look back out to watch as Jessie makes her way down the line being hugged by all of her teammates before she gets to where the jersey was. You watch her look at it, then take a second to look around the field, taking in every second. She then takes photos with the coaching staff before she motions to you.

“Go run to Mama.” You let go of your daughter's hand and she runs ahead of you to Jessie. Jessie squats, grabbing your daughter under her arms and lifting her up around her hip. You make your way out onto the field before standing next to Jessie to take a few photos.

You give Jessie a quick peck to the cheek before taking back your daughter and walking off to the side of the pitch. You stand for a minute watching Jessie continue to absorb the moment around her.

“Look at this!” Olivia comes rushing up next to you holding out her camera for you to look at. It’s a photo of your wife from the side, she’s got a big smile on her face and is squatting down, arms stretched out toward your daughter who is also smiling big, running toward Jessie. “You two seriously have the cutest kid.”

“Soon to be cutest kids.” You whisper to her putting emphasis on the ‘s’. Olivia turns to you, mouth wide before looking down at your stomach.

“Are you?”

Her face lights up as you give her a nod, “We just found out a few weeks ago.”

“Oh my gosh! Congratulations!” Olivia pulls you into a hug. She then passes you a piece of paper with a note before giving you a wink. Her eyes get really wide for a second and she says “don’t drink the champagne,” before heading back to take more photos of the pregame ceremonies.

You make your way up to the reserved box, all of Jessie’s family attending the game as well as many of her former teammates. Your daughter was quick to run to her grandparents, excited to see them.

“Not working today?” Janine says coming up beside you. She hands you a drink and you give her a look questioning what was in the cup. “It’s just cranberry juice. Congratulations by the way, Jessie told me so we could make sure we have non-alcoholic stuff at the retirement party.”

“Thank you and yeah, I took the day off, thankfully Canada Soccer understood the importance of attending my own wife’s retirement game.” You had finished up school nearly 14 years ago, getting hired back immediately by Canada Soccer. That’s when you and Jessie had to be upfront with your relationship, disclosing it to HR and management before you signed the contract. Your relationship meant you were no longer able to handle Jessie’s treatments yourself but you were able to keep your job and still work closely with her.

The two of you had been dating for just over a year at that point, the first few months of long distance were hard, having to figure out communication expectations along with both of you juggling busy schedules. But you put in the work and effort and managed to figure it out together. You visited Jessie when you could and she’d visit you, FaceTime was your saving grace being able to see her face most days. You did silly little dates where you’d read together on FaceTime, not speaking but still as if she was in the room with you. You’d cook the same meal and eat together, you watch TV series together, she’d help quiz you for exams, the two of you made it work.

When you first told your Mom you were still talking with Jessie she didn’t think much of it, to be fair you didn’t give her the impression the two of you were together. You had planned on it, but chickened out and made it seem like a friendship. It wasn’t until almost six months into dating that you finally told your Mom. You and Jessie had talked about spending the holidays together, back in your hometown with your Mom. When you asked if your girlfriend could spend a couple days, your Mom was confused, never having met or heard a mention of a girlfriend on your end. She insisted she meet the girl first, to which you had to explain she had met the girl, she actually worked with her. Your Mom was able to put together the hints and realize you and Jessie were dating. She still scolded you just as she had when she caught the two of you kissing. Worried about the age difference, worried you’d never find a job if people knew, worried about the traveling and long distance, she went on and on for a while. But with some extra begging, she agreed to let Jessie come for the holidays and you formally introduced her as your girlfriend. Your Mom was quick to come around on your relationship once she saw how you and Jessie interacted, how happy she made you, it only took a couple hours before your Mom was getting out the scrapbooks to show Jessie embarrassing baby photos of you.

You started as a trainer with the Canadian team just after graduation, in a similar role as you had been for the team that one summer. You stayed in that position for a while before your Mom retired. Your Mom had previously taken over for Mark when he retired and you were given the promotion to that same position as the head of staff. This meant less hands on work and more administrative business, while a little less fun for you, it meant you could work from home whenever you needed to or just wanted to. You’d come in when the team was in or when you needed access to the facilities but when the girls returned to their club teams, you’d often follow Jessie to Portland and the two of you would live there.

Within the past few years you had been offered the opportunity to create a new position to oversee the physio and training staff as well as working with the player performance team. You loved your new position, you worked with the coaches, the nutritionists, the team doctors, the players themselves, all to work on creating training plans that made your players better while keeping them healthy and safe. You were going to continue to work after Jessie’s retirement despite how much she tries to convince you that you could both retire now, you loved your job too much to leave it quite yet.

It was five years into your relationship when you finally proposed. You had known for a long time that you were going to marry Jessie, but the two of you weren’t in any rush, the commitment to each other was always the same, married or not. You had taken her on a picnic to a wildflower field you found. Picnics became a staple date in your and Jessie’s relationship ever since your first one. You had waited for her to look away, to get distracted by a flower and you quickly scrambled to get on one knee, ring box open and facing her. She of course said yes once she recovered from the initial surprise and the two of you got married a year later. You had a small ceremony, only a couple people in attendance, keeping it easy. You instead hosted a large reception, with Jessie’s teammates, your coworkers, both of your friend and family, you couldn’t have asked for a more perfect start to your married life.

It was just a year into your marriage when the idea of having a baby started to float around more and more in both of your minds. You had talked about kids while you were dating but it was all talk, you both not quite ready to settle down with a child yet. But after seeing Jessie with her teammates kids weekend after weekend at Portland you couldn’t help but long for that to be your kid in her arms. So one day you simply asked Jessie. You asked if she’d be interested in getting a consultation together to see what your options were as far as having a kid. She agreed happily and you two found yourselves quickly in the seats of a fertility clinic, getting started with the IVF process. It took a couple rounds before you got the positive test and nine months later the two of you had a healthy baby girl.

The sleepless nights and traveling with a baby was not easy. It was especially hard when Jessie would be away from club games and you were left to parent alone. Thankfully your friends and family were always there to help out, knowing how crazy Jessie’s travel can be. All the chaos and exhaustion was worth it everytime you got to watch your daughter totter around wearing your wife’s jersey, just as you got to see today as she ran to Jessie for her final game.

Jessie’s decision to retire hadn’t been easy but you both knew it was time and she was settled with her decision. So now you stood watching the last few minutes of her career play out in front of you. You had been ushered back down to the field sideline by security so you could greet your wife and as the final whistle blew you watched as Jessie moved to the center of the field before sitting down. Her hands move to her boots and she slowly unties them before sliding them off her feet and you can practically see her heart break. She’s taking deep breaths the way her shoulders and chest are rising, most likely trying to keep her emotions at bay. Her teammates and the opposing team’s players made their way to her congratulating her, giving her their praises. You walked to her, your daughter in your arms. She stood up to greet you and you could see the tears in her eyes, quickly causing your own to well up.

“I’m so proud of you.” You whispered to her as she pulled you into an incredibly tight hug. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

“You okay?” You say when you pull back from her, you let your forehead rest on hers, not caring about the sticky feeling of her sweat.

“Yeah, it’s just weird, that was it after 24 years on this team. I’ll never do that again.” She seems to be in a state of shock, not quite believing that she would never play for Canada again.

“I know.” You rub her back gently as your daughter blabs on about a bird that’s flying overhead.

Jessie is quickly swept away for interview after interview. You and your daughter make your way around the pitch talking with Jessie’s teammates to kill time before everyone heads back into the locker rooms and the stadium crowd clears out.

You find Jessie’s parents, who graciously offered to watch their granddaughter for the night so you and Jessie could have the evening to yourself. They knew their daughter would likely need an evening of relaxation and reflection after the long day of celebration which might not be possible if she was being asked to build legos or color or play dress up.

“Hey, she’s the last one in there, I’m not sure how long she’ll be. She’s just standing there, you might want to go in and check on her.” Jordyn says as she and Julia exit the locker room and see you waiting for Jessie.

“Thank you.” You take Jordyn’s suggestion and enter the locker room. There’s Jessie, she’s changed, wearing sweatpants and a shirt, standing in front of her cubby staring at the name plate above it with her name, number, and a large C on it. You come up and hug her from behind, not saying much, just being with her. It’s quiet but finally Jessie grabs the name plate, sliding it off the cubby and puts it in her bag.

“Alright let’s go, I don’t want to keep people waiting at the party.” Jessie says. Janine and Sinc had organized a small retirement party for later that night, you and Jessie had both put heavy emphasis on it being a small party, thankfully you still had a couple of hours.

“There’s something I wanted to do first, if you’re up for it. The party isn’t for a couple hours. We have time.” Jessie nods. Youre happy that she’s agreeing and that she trusts you aren’t going to make her do something crazy after playing her last ever game. You take her hand pulling her from the dressing room, down the hall, and back in the direction of the pitch. You walk with her until you come to the middle of the pitch. “Sit.” You point to the grass before taking off running to one tunnel, the one Olivia had written on her note and grabbing the basket she had left for the two of you. You make your way back to Jessie and open the basket pulling out a bottle of champagne and a single glass.

“Olivia didn’t know I was pregnant when she set this up, I told her today though. She got a really cute photo of you and Emery.” You say to Jessie before pouring her a glass and getting out some of the snacks she had packed.

Jessie laughs to herself. “Remember when I thought the two of you were together.”

“I still can’t believe you thought that.” You shake your head thinking back to the screaming match you and Jessie had in the hotel, all because both of you were silly, immature, young adults who didn’t know how to talk to each other about your feelings. “You were so jealous.”

“Was not!”

“You so were.”

“Fine I was, but it turned out pretty great for me.” She crosses her arms across her chest pretending to be mad.

“Yeah, we turned out alright.”

The two of you fall into a silence, you wait for Jessie to speak. You want to let Jessie have the time to think through all of her thoughts, feel all of her emotions, take her time sitting on the field.

“I love you.”

“I love you Jessie.” You respond as she plops her head onto your shoulder.

“This is just like our first date, when you brought me to the field in Paris.”

“I know. And I knew how much you appreciated that. So I just wanted to make sure you were able to soak it all in for one last time.”

[gojosystem]

✧˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL ♡·˚

— [♡] ; love it's in the moments you don’t speak—the glances, the touches, the unspoken promises. ｡°. gojo satoru

tags: mutual pining, fem!reader, fluff, intimacy, comfort, slow build, flirty gojo, first kiss, soft moments, special grade sorcerer reader, gojo is very much clearly simping

wc. 11K *phew!*

It had been a few years since you last stepped foot in Jujutsu High. The familiar grounds looked the same, though they seemed quieter without the chaos of students running around. The memories of training, missions, and countless teasing remarks from your former teacher all came flooding back as you walked up the path toward the main building.

You had been away, working tirelessly in the field, honing your cursed techniques, taking on increasingly difficult missions. It had all led to this moment. Today, you were returning to be officially promoted to a Special Grade Sorcerer.

As you approached the entrance, you felt a mixture of pride and nerves. After all, you hadn’t seen Gojo Satoru since graduation. It wasn’t like you hadn’t kept in touch with your friends, but Gojo… he was different. You knew he’d be at the promotion ceremony, and somehow, that thought made your heart race.

Stepping inside, you looked around, the echo of your footsteps filling the hallway. A part of you hoped you might run into Gojo before the ceremony, but knowing him, he’d probably make a grand entrance—like always.

"Well, well. Look who’s back."

The voice came from behind you, teasing and all too familiar. You turned quickly, and there he was—Gojo, standing casually with that same cocky smile, hands in his pockets, and his blindfold once again wrapped around his head.

"You still like sneaking up on people, I see," you said, trying to sound calm, though your pulse quickened at the sight of him.

He grinned. "And you still get flustered just as easily. Some things never change, huh?"

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, but you weren’t the same shy student you had been before. You had grown, faced some of the worst curses in existence, and yet Gojo still had this effect on you.

"I didn’t expect you to greet me so soon," you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I thought you'd be too busy for that."

"Busy?" Gojo’s grin widened as he sauntered closer. "I made time just for you. After all, a former student coming back to get promoted to Special Grade? That’s a big deal."

You felt a swell of pride at his words, but also a little self-conscious. "It feels surreal. I mean, being here again… and, well, being promoted."

"Surreal, huh?" He tilted his head, eyeing you with amusement. "Kid, you’re more than ready. I saw that years ago."

His words caught you off guard. Despite everything you had accomplished, hearing Gojo acknowledge your strength like this—it felt like something had come full circle. He had always pushed you, teased you, but he also believed in you more than anyone else.

"I wasn’t so sure back then," you admitted softly, "but I guess I’ve learned a lot since."

Gojo nodded slowly, a rare look of seriousness flickering across his face. "I knew you would. You’ve got the strength, and more importantly, the heart for this kind of work."

You blinked, surprised by his sincerity. He wasn’t just teasing you now—this was Gojo at his most genuine, and it made your chest tighten.

"Thanks, Gojo-sensei," you murmured, your voice soft. "That means a lot, coming from you."

He shrugged, the playful smile returning. "Don’t get all emotional on me now, kid. We’ve got a whole ceremony to get through. You’ve earned this, and then some."

The two of you fell into step as you walked toward the meeting hall. Gojo’s presence next to you was both comforting and slightly overwhelming, like it always had been.

As you reached the doors, Gojo stopped, turning to you with a mischievous look in his eye. "You know, I’m technically supposed to give a speech during your promotion. Maybe I’ll tell everyone about how you used to hide behind Megumi when I’d mess with you."

You groaned, shaking your head with a small laugh. "Please don’t."

He chuckled. "Don’t worry, I’ll be nice. Maybe."

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. Despite the teasing, it felt good to be back in this familiar dynamic. The butterflies in your stomach hadn’t fully settled, though. Something about standing next to Gojo again stirred up old feelings—feelings you thought you had long buried.

As the doors opened and you stepped inside the hall, the attention of the other sorcerers turned to you. Gojo followed closely behind, his presence commanding the room as always. But this time, the spotlight wasn’t on him—it was on you.

The ceremony was a blur, words of congratulations and praise drifting in and out of focus. You stood tall, trying to keep your composure, but your mind kept drifting to Gojo, who leaned casually against the wall, watching the proceedings with an unreadable expression behind his blindfold.

When it was over, and the room began to empty, you finally let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You were officially a Special Grade Sorcerer now. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted, but at the same time, a new pressure settled in its place.

Before you could get lost in thought, Gojo appeared at your side again, his hand coming to rest lightly on your shoulder. "See? Told you it wasn’t that bad."

You smiled, looking up at him. "Yeah… I guess you were right."

For a moment, there was a comfortable silence between you two. Then Gojo’s hand slid off your shoulder, and he gave you a lazy grin. "So, what’s next for the newly promoted Special Grade?"

"I’m not sure yet," you replied honestly. "But… I’m excited to find out."

Gojo studied you for a second, his grin softening. "Good. You’ve come a long way, kiddo. I’m proud of you."

Your breath hitched slightly at his words, but before you could respond, Gojo leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping just for you to hear.

"By the way, if you ever need a reminder of how far you’ve come," he murmured, his warm breath brushing against your ear, "you can always come back. I’ll be here."

You swallowed hard, feeling your face heat up all over again. He pulled back, that teasing smile still on his lips, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

"Thanks," you managed to say, trying to keep your voice steady. "I’ll keep that in mind."

Gojo chuckled and stepped back, giving you a small wave as he turned to leave. "See you around, kid."

Some things really didn’t change. But this time, you didn’t mind.

It felt like home.

As you walk down the steps of Jujutsu High, you can still feel Gojo’s presence outside, his energy as unmistakable as always. The sun is setting, casting long shadows across the grounds, and there’s something surreal about being here again—not as a student, but as an equal. Or as close to an equal as anyone can get with someone like Gojo.

Your eyes land on him, leaning casually against a tree near the gates, the evening light catching in his silver hair. He’s not even trying to be inconspicuous. things never change.

"I was beginning to think you’d gotten lost," he calls out as you approach, his tone as playful as ever. "Or did you just need a moment to compose yourself after all those heartfelt congratulations?"

You roll your eyes, but a smile tugs at your lips. "You weren’t even waiting here for that long. I thought you’d be off somewhere causing trouble."

"Waiting? Nah, I was just enjoying the peace and quiet before you showed up," he quips, though the smile on his face suggests otherwise.

You walk up to him, arms crossed over your chest, but there’s a flicker of boldness in your step. You’ve changed since the last time you were here, and you can feel it in the way you hold yourself. And maybe, just maybe, you’re ready to push back a little this time.

"Still wearing that blindfold, I see," you remark casually, your eyes flicking up to the familiar fabric covering his eyes. "You know, I thought someone as unpredictable as you might’ve switched it up by now."

Gojo’s grin widens, clearly enjoying where this is going. "Oh? And what do you suggest I wear? Something more 'grown up' like you? You do seem different, but I didn’t think you’d start giving me fashion advice."

You shrug with a smirk. "I don’t know, maybe something a little less… lazy. Or are you afraid of people seeing those famous eyes of yours too often? I hear it’s bad for their health."

Gojo chuckles, the sound deep and warm. "You really have gotten bolder. I like it."

You tilt your head, feeling the dynamic between you shift ever so slightly. There’s a tension now, a playful kind that wasn’t there before. When you were a student, he always had the upper hand, teasing you endlessly, knowing you’d blush and fumble your words. But now… now you’re not quite as easy to fluster.

"Well," you say, stepping a little closer, "I had to get better at keeping up with you eventually. I’ve had plenty of practice dodging your teasing over the years."

Gojo’s grin falters for the briefest moment, replaced with something more thoughtful as he watches you. He shifts his weight, pushing off the tree and straightening up, towering over you as he often does. "Oh, I don’t know. I think you secretly enjoyed all that teasing."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing you blush. Not this time. "Maybe," you say with a smirk of your own, "but I think you enjoyed it more."

That catches him off guard. His eyebrows raise slightly, and for a split second, you see something flicker across his face—surprise, amusement, and something else you can’t quite place. He recovers quickly, though, leaning in just a bit closer, his voice lowering as if you’re sharing a secret.

"Well, aren’t you full of surprises today," he murmurs, his tone teasing but laced with something more, something that makes your pulse quicken. "You really have grown up."

You meet his gaze—or, you would if his eyes weren’t covered by that damn blindfold. But you feel the weight of his presence all the same, and it’s clear that this conversation is walking a fine line between old dynamics and something entirely new.

"I had to," you reply, your voice steady despite the way your heart is racing. "Couldn’t stay the same shy kid forever, right?"

Gojo hums, taking a step back but keeping his gaze locked on you. "True. Though, I have to admit, the shy part was kind of cute."

You scoff, trying not to let the compliment—or whatever that was—get to you. "Cute? Really? You’ve got a strange way of showing affection, Gojo-sensei."

His grin turns playful again, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s enjoying this new dynamic as much as you are. "I thought that was obvious by now. I’ve been nothing but affectionate with my favorite students."

"Affectionate? Is that what you call it?" You raise an eyebrow, stepping closer again, refusing to let him have the upper hand. "Because if that’s your idea of affection, you might need to work on your delivery."

Gojo laughs, a full, genuine laugh that lights up his entire face. "And here I thought I was being subtle."

"Subtle? You?" You shake your head, the smile on your face growing. "You’re about as subtle as a curse rampaging through Tokyo."

Gojo clutches his chest dramatically. "Ouch, kid. I’m starting to think you’ve really grown out of my charming personality."

You take another step, closing the distance between you two even more. "Maybe I’ve just grown into someone who can handle it better."

He’s close now, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from him, and for a moment, the playful teasing gives way to something else. It’s like the air between you shifts—still light, but charged with an energy that wasn’t there before. You both know you’re walking into new territory, uncharted but not unwelcome.

Gojo studies you for a moment longer, and you can tell that he’s enjoying this new version of you, the way you push back, the way you don’t shy away from him anymore. "You know," he says, his voice a little softer now, "I might have to start taking you seriously if you keep this up."

You smirk, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe you should’ve been doing that all along."

He grins, but there’s something genuine behind it. "Touché."

For a moment, the two of you just stand there, the teasing falling into a comfortable silence. There’s no need to fill the space with words; you both know what’s unspoken between you. It’s a shift, a recognition that the dynamic between you is different now, more equal, more balanced.

Finally, you break the silence, feeling just bold enough to push a little further. "By the way," you say, your voice casual but laced with meaning, "I’m staying at a hotel nearby for a month. You know, in case you feel like catching up… or if you want to see how much I’ve ‘grown up.’"

Gojo’s grin falters for just a second, and you catch a flicker of something in his expression—surprise, intrigue, and maybe even a bit of challenge. Then, as quickly as it appeared, it’s replaced with his usual smirk.

"Oh?" he drawls, his voice low and teasing. "Well, don’t be too disappointed if I show up unannounced. I do have a habit of keeping people on their toes."

You chuckle, feeling the weight of his words, the unspoken promise hanging between you. "I’ll keep that in mind."

As you turn to leave, you notice Gojo falling into step beside you. His long strides easily match your pace, and though you’re both heading toward the parking lot where your car is waiting, it feels like neither of you is quite ready to say goodbye just yet.

"Walking me to my car, Gojo-sensei?" you tease, glancing up at him with a playful smile. "I didn’t think you were the gentleman type."

He shrugs with a grin, hands in his pockets as he walks casually next to you. "Well, I’ve got to make sure my freshly promoted Special Grade sorcerer doesn’t get lost on her way out. Besides, who knows what kind of trouble you’ll attract in the dark?"

You roll your eyes at his exaggerated tone, though the teasing warmth in his voice makes it hard not to smile. "I think I can handle myself. I’ve been doing just fine all these years."

"True, but you know me. I like to make an impression," he says, the corner of his mouth tugging upward into a smirk. "Especially on people I care about."

You glance at him, catching the way his words linger in the air, heavier than usual. There's a subtle shift in the mood between you—something teetering on the edge of playful and something deeper, and you're both fully aware of it. You’re tethering new territory, and the dynamic between you two feels different now. Mature. Equal. Exciting.

"So, it’s about making impressions now?" you tease, feeling the butterflies fluttering in your chest. "And here I thought you just liked showing off."

"Who says it can’t be both?" he replies smoothly, Gojo looked at you with a mischievous smile, his pace slowing just a bit as if savoring the moment. "You’ve grown a lot, you know. Not just in skill, but…" He tilted his head, eyeing you with a playful glint. "You’ve got a bit more bite now. You’re not the same shy little student who used to hide behind Megumi."

You laughed softly, shaking your head. "I *did not* hide behind Megumi."

"Oh, come on, kiddo." He nudged you gently with his elbow. "You used to blush every time I so much as looked your way. Admit it."

You tried to suppress the smile creeping onto your face but failed. "Okay, *maybe* I was a little flustered. But in my defense, you never made it easy."

He grinned, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping just a little. "I didn’t think I’d have to make it easy for you."

The way he said it sent a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, you were both quiet, walking side by side, the teasing tension between you now more palpable. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks again, but this time, it wasn’t out of embarrassment. There was something bold bubbling up inside you.

As you approached the parking area where your car was waiting, Gojo stopped, turning to face you. His grin softened, but the playful spark remained in his eyes. "Well, here we are. You sure you don’t want me to teleport you wherever you’re staying? Could save you some time."

You smiled, feeling the boldness surge within you. "As tempting as that sounds, I think I’ll be fine driving on my own. But thanks for the offer, Gojo-sensei."

He arched an eyebrow at the way you said his name, his smirk widening. "You keep calling me ‘sensei’ like I’m still your teacher. But we both know that’s not exactly true anymore, right?"

You felt your heart race at his words. He was right—this wasn’t the same dynamic as before. Not anymore. You both knew it, and the air between you felt thick with unspoken possibilities.

You took a deep breath, stepping a little closer to him, daring yourself to take this a step further. "I guess you’re right. Maybe I should start calling you something else. After all, we’re both adults now."

Gojo’s grin faltered for just a second, a flash of surprise crossing his features before it was quickly replaced with amusement. "Oh? And what would you call me then?"

You tilted your head slightly, enjoying the rare sight of him being caught off guard. "I’ll have to think about that."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You really have grown. Look at you, teasing me back. I’m proud."

His words made your heart flutter in a way that felt different from before. But you weren’t done yet. Taking a bold step forward, you closed the remaining distance between you and Gojo. Before he could react, you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

No Infinity.

The moment seemed to stretch, the warmth of your lips lingering against his skin, and for the first time in your relationship with Gojo, it felt like the roles had reversed. His smirk faltered, his body going still as if processing what had just happened.

When you pulled back, his usual cocky demeanor seemed to slip for just a moment, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

"That’s for all the times you teased me mercilessly," you said softly, your voice playful but steady. "And maybe for the times I didn’t tease you back when I should have."

Gojo blinked, and then, slowly, a grin spread across his face—wider than before, more genuine. "Well, well. You’re full of surprises tonight."

You shrugged, feeling a rush of satisfaction at the shift in dynamic. "I told you. I’ve grown up."

He let out a low laugh, his eyes never leaving yours. "Yeah, you certainly have." He seemed to shake off whatever shock had held him back, his playful confidence returning in full force. "But don’t think I’m letting you get away with that so easily, kiddo."

You raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What are you going to do about it?"

His grin was almost dangerous now, that familiar spark of mischief flashing in his eyes. "You’ll just have to wait and see."

The teasing tension between you felt like it was on the edge of something more, but before either of you could push it further, you decided to pull back, letting the moment simmer rather than boil over.

As you climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine, Gojo stepped back, still watching you with that same teasing, unreadable look.

"Drive safe, kid," he called out, raising a hand in farewell.

You smiled, pulling away, but as you glanced in the rearview mirror, you couldn’t help but notice that he was still standing there, watching you drive off into the night.

It felt like the beginning of something new—something neither of you had quite figured out yet. But you were both adults now, and whatever came next, you knew it would be an interesting ride.

--

After a few days of settling into your routine post-promotion, things had started to feel more normal. Well, as normal as life could be for a Special Grade sorcerer. You’d spent most of your time either training or catching up on much-needed rest, all while reflecting on how surreal it was to be back at Jujutsu High—especially with the way things had shifted between you and Gojo.

The memory of the moment outside the school gates played on a loop in your mind. The teasing, the playful tension, the kiss you’d dared to press on his cheek. You couldn’t stop replaying the look of surprise on his face, the way his cocky grin had faltered, just for a moment. He was always so composed, so in control, but for a split second, you’d managed to throw him off. And you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since.

Now, it was late in the evening, and you found yourself sitting alone in your hotel room, the soft hum of city life outside your window. You had just finished a light training session earlier and returned to your room to freshen up. The thought of ordering room service for dinner crossed your mind as you flipped through the menu, your stomach growling in protest at the lack of food in it.

You settled on something simple and pressed the button to call down for service when your phone buzzed on the nightstand. Absentmindedly, you reached for it, half-expecting a message from one of your friends or perhaps a notification about your latest mission.

Instead, you saw a message from the hotel’s front desk.

"Gojo Satoru is here to see you."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you blinked at the screen, rereading the message just to make sure you weren’t seeing things. Gojo? Here? Now?

You hadn’t actually expected him to take up your offer. When you’d playfully mentioned your hotel stay, it had been more of a tease—an open-ended invitation, sure, but you didn’t think he’d actually show up. Not after how things had ended at the school. The kiss. The tension. The unspoken things that lingered between you both.

But apparently, Gojo had decided to take you up on your offer for dinner. The butterflies in your stomach returned full force as you tried to calm yourself. You knew him well enough to know he didn’t do anything without a reason—especially when it came to situations like this. And yet, here he was.

You glanced around your room, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you were still in casual clothes—nothing fancy, just a pair of comfortable shorts and a t-shirt. Hardly the outfit for hosting someone like Gojo, but you had no time to change.

A knock sounded at your door, and you took a deep breath, walking toward it with a mix of excitement and nerves.

When you opened the door, Gojo stood there, looking as infuriatingly laid-back and stylish as ever. He wasn’t in his usual sorcerer uniform tonight. Instead, he wore a dark, tailored jacket over a simple shirt and slacks, his blindfold notably absent, replaced by a pair of sleek sunglasses. His silver hair was slightly tousled, as though he hadn’t bothered much with it, but of course, he still managed to look effortlessly put together.

"Surprise," he said, flashing that signature grin of his, as though showing up at your hotel room unannounced was the most natural thing in the world.

You leaned against the doorframe, trying to play it cool even though your heart was racing. "Gojo-sensei. I didn’t think you’d actually take me up on that offer."

He stepped inside, brushing past you as if it were his place. "Well, you told me you’d be here for a month. Hope I’m not interrupting anything." He glanced around the room with a playful smile. "No secret sorcery rituals? No dangerous curses lurking around?"

You laughed, closing the door behind him. "No, no rituals. Just room service and me trying to figure out what to order for dinner."

"Room service?" Gojo raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Come on, you’re in the city. You can do better than hotel food."

You crossed your arms, trying to keep your voice steady despite his teasing. "Well, unless you’ve got a better suggestion, this is the easiest option."

Gojo grinned, pulling out his phone. "Lucky for you, I’m a man of many talents. How about I order us something decent?"

"Decent, huh? You sure about that?"

He waved off your skepticism, already tapping away at his phone as he sauntered over to the small table near the window and took a seat. "Trust me, I know the best spots. You’ll thank me later."

You watched him, half-amused and half-flustered by how comfortable he was making himself in your space. It felt strange—having him here, in your hotel room, of all places. And yet, it didn’t. Gojo always had a way of making any situation feel simultaneously normal and completely unexpected.

After a few minutes, he put his phone down, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied look. "Food’s on the way. Hope you’re hungry."

You walked over and sat across from him, the hotel menu now forgotten. "I guess I’ll have to trust you on this."

Gojo leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, and for a moment, his expression softened. "So, how’s it been? Adjusting to the whole Special Grade thing. It’s a big step up."

You shrugged, grateful for the shift in conversation. "It’s been… weird, honestly. I’m still getting used to it. It’s not just the title—it’s everything that comes with it. Expectations, responsibilities. It feels like I’ve suddenly got all these eyes on me."

Gojo nodded, his tone a little more serious than usual. "That’s because you do. Being Special Grade means more than just power—it’s the influence, the way people look at you. But don’t worry. You’ll get used to it."

His words were meant to reassure, but something about the way he said it made you think he understood better than most. You realized that despite all the bravado, Gojo had been carrying that weight for a long time. The weight of expectations, of being the strongest, of always having people watching, waiting for him to fail—or worse, succeed too easily.

"Thanks," you said, your voice softening. "Coming from you, that actually helps."

He gave you a small smile, but then, in typical Gojo fashion, the serious moment passed as quickly as it had arrived. "But don’t let it get to your head. I’m still stronger than you."

You snorted, shaking your head. "Always so humble, huh?"

"Someone has to keep you in check," he said with a wink.

A knock on the door interrupted your banter, and you stood to get the food, returning with two takeout bags that smelled divine. Gojo grinned as you set them on the table, already reaching for one of the containers.

"I told you it’d be good," he said, handing you your portion.

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical but intrigued. "Alright, I’ll give you that. Smells pretty good."

The two of you dug into the meal, the atmosphere relaxing as you ate, sharing stories and catching up on what you’d missed in each other’s lives over the past few years. Gojo regaled you with his usual exaggerated tales of missions and his ‘legendary’ exploits, making you laugh despite yourself. And for once, you found it easy to tease him back, knowing that you weren’t the timid student you used to be.

At one point, Gojo leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head with a satisfied sigh. "See? Told you I knew the best spots."

You smirked, leaning forward. "Alright, alright. I’ll admit it. You were right about the food."

"That’s what I like to hear," he said, flashing you a grin.

As the conversation naturally slowed down, a comfortable silence settled between you both, and for a moment, you found yourself simply watching him. It was strange—having him here, sharing a meal in your hotel room, in such an ordinary, human moment. Gojo, despite everything, was still a bit of an enigma. He was larger than life, someone who seemed untouchable in so many ways. And yet here he was, in your space, being just… Gojo.

And then, as if sensing the shift in your thoughts, Gojo leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, his eyes locking with yours.

"You know," he said quietly, his voice softer now, "I wasn’t just here for the food."

Your heart skipped a beat, the playful atmosphere suddenly replaced with something more serious, more intimate. You met his gaze, feeling the weight of his words, but not entirely sure where he was going with this.

"Gojo—" you started, but he interrupted you, his smile soft but knowing.

"Satoru," he corrected, his voice low. "You don’t have to keep calling me ‘sensei’ anymore. We’re not at Jujutsu High."

The air between you felt thick, the casual banter from earlier now giving way to something deeper. You swallowed, feeling the tension rise, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was something else. Something electric.

"Satoru," you said again, his name feeling intimate, like something shared in confidence. The moment stretched between you, and the air in the room felt thicker, almost charged. You hadn’t meant for it to get this way, not when you invited him to catch up. Yet here you were, the easy banter slipping into something else, something unfamiliar but undeniably tempting.

He didn't reply right away. Instead, he watched you, his gaze steady and intense, no teasing grin, no playful smirk—just focus. His eyes, no longer hidden behind a blindfold, had that same vibrant blue intensity, and they seemed to soften the longer he looked at you. He leaned back in his chair slightly, one hand lazily resting on the table as if he had all the time in the world, like there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

You felt your pulse quicken, but the warmth that settled over you wasn’t just nerves—it was anticipation. The distance between you both felt almost too large now, despite being seated so close. A quiet hum of energy flowed between you, drawing you in, but neither of you was rushing to fill the silence.

Satoru’s voice broke through the quiet, low and unhurried. "You know… it’s been a while since I’ve had a dinner like this. Just us. No missions. No students. No chaos." His tone was lazy, like the way he stretched his words was deliberate, savoring each one.

You felt your body relax into the atmosphere, your earlier tension dissolving as the two of you settled into this slower, lazier rhythm. You leaned back in your chair, mimicking his posture, allowing your foot to nudge against his under the table, just lightly. You weren’t sure what possessed you to do it, but the casual touch felt like a gentle acknowledgment of the shift between you. Something more intimate, something more *present* was settling in.

Satoru glanced down at the small contact, the corners of his mouth twitching into a soft smile—different from his usual grin. It felt… private. "Careful," he said, his voice dropping a little lower, "or I’ll start thinking you’re trying to make a move on me."

You smiled back, feeling bolder in this new atmosphere. "And what if I am?"

There it was—a daring line neither of you had crossed before. The teasing had always been a part of your dynamic, but this? This was uncharted territory, and it sent a rush of excitement through you. You weren’t the same student he used to tease and fluster. You could hold your own now.

Satoru’s gaze flicked back to yours, his expression unreadable for a moment before he leaned forward slightly, his arms resting on the table again, closer now. The distance between you narrowed, and your foot was still resting lightly against his, the touch warm through the fabric of your soft socks.

His voice was quiet, but there was a deliberate slowness to his words. "Then maybe I should see where this goes."

The way he said it, lazy and inviting, made your heart race. You knew Satoru wasn’t one to shy away from anything, especially not when it came to these kinds of games. But this didn’t feel like a game anymore. The lazy, sexy atmosphere had shifted into something heavier, something more intimate and real.

Your breath hitched slightly as you watched him lean just a little closer. He wasn’t in any hurry. The tension simmered between you both, and it felt like he was savoring every second of it. His eyes never left yours, and the weight of his presence made the room feel warmer, smaller.

"I wasn’t expecting you to actually come," you admitted, your voice quieter now, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the delicate balance between you.

Satoru smiled, slow and lazy. "What can I say? I like to keep you on your toes."

You smirked, shaking your head slightly. "I’m starting to think you enjoy seeing me flustered."

He chuckled softly, the sound low and smooth, the kind that made the air feel heavier. "Maybe a little. But you’re not the same shy student anymore, are you? I have a feeling you can handle yourself now."

There was a deeper meaning to his words, and you felt it resonate through you. He was testing the waters, waiting to see how far you were willing to go.

Your heart raced, but this time, it wasn’t just nerves. It was a slow, delicious anticipation, like you were both slowly, lazily circling something inevitable. You leaned forward, closing the gap between you, your arms resting on the table now, much like his. The space between your faces felt almost too intimate, but neither of you pulled away.

"Maybe I can," you murmured, your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest.

Satoru’s gaze softened as his eyes traveled over your face, lingering on your lips for just a second before meeting your eyes again. There was no rush, no urgency, but the tension between you hummed quietly, like something waiting to break free.

"You’ve got more confidence now," he said, his voice low and almost intimate. "I like it."

You smiled softly, your heart pounding in your chest. "Guess I had a good teacher."

He laughed quietly, the sound warm and teasing. "You might regret saying that."

For a moment, neither of you moved. The atmosphere between you was thick with anticipation, but it wasn’t the kind of tension that demanded immediate action. It was slow, deliberate, like you both wanted to savor the moment, to see where it would take you.

Then, without a word, Satoru reached across the table, his hand brushing against yours, his fingers warm and slightly rough. The touch was subtle but intimate, his thumb tracing a slow, lazy pattern across the back of your hand.

Your breath caught in your throat as you glanced down at the contact, your heart racing. It was such a simple gesture, but it sent a ripple of heat through you, settling low in your stomach. You didn’t pull away, and neither did he. Instead, you let the moment stretch between you, the lazy, sexy atmosphere deepening with each passing second.

Satoru’s thumb continued its slow, deliberate movements, and when you looked up at him again, his expression had softened. There was no teasing grin now, no cocky smirk. Just him, watching you with an intensity that made your pulse race.

"You’re not running away," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I’m not the same person I was, Satoru."

His gaze held yours, and for a moment, the playful banter disappeared completely, replaced by something far more intimate, far more real.

"No," he agreed, his voice quiet and serious. "You’re not."

And then, he stood up, moving around the table with a slow, deliberate grace that made your heart race. He stopped just in front of you, his tall frame towering over you as he leaned down, one hand resting on the back of your chair.

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, your breath catching as his face hovered just inches from yours. The tension between you was almost unbearable now, the lazy, slow atmosphere pulling you both into its gravity. You could feel the warmth of his body so close to yours, the space between you almost nonexistent.

Satoru’s hand moved from the chair to your chin, his touch gentle but firm as he tilted your face up to meet his. His thumb brushed against your bottom lip, and your pulse quickened, your breath shallow as you waited, the air between you electric.

"You sure you can handle this?" he murmured, his voice low and teasing, though there was a seriousness behind his words, a quiet question.

You smiled softly, leaning into his touch, your voice steady despite the rapid beating of your heart. "I think I can."

Satoru’s lips curled into a slow, lazy smile, his eyes never leaving yours as he leaned in, the space between you disappearing entirely.

Satoru's thumb lingered on your lips for just a second longer, tracing the outline of your bottom lip with a feather-light touch. The gesture was slow, deliberate, and unhurried, as if he was savoring the moment just as much as you were. His face was close—so close you could feel the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin. The lazy, electric atmosphere between you seemed to buzz, both of you aware of the unspoken tension but not rushing to cross any lines too quickly.

You could feel the weight of his hand on your chin, firm yet gentle, like he was giving you the chance to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn’t. The space between you both was charged, like a silent dare to see who would push things further first.

"You’re not scared, are you?" Satoru asked, his voice low and teasing, yet there was a softness there, like he was genuinely curious about how far you were willing to go.

You met his eyes, those blue depths that held a thousand secrets, and felt a shiver run down your spine. Despite the playful nature of his words, there was something real simmering beneath them, something that felt new and exciting.

"Not scared," you replied softly, feeling a boldness rising inside you, your own voice taking on that same slow, lazy quality as the room around you. "Just… curious."

Satoru’s grin widened, just slightly, his gaze flickering between your eyes and lips. "Curious, huh?" His voice was almost a whisper now, and you could feel the weight of each word settle in the air between you, as if testing how far you were willing to explore this new territory.

"Mm-hmm," you murmured, leaning into the moment, into the tension that felt more like a game between the two of you. Your heart was racing, but the pace was slow, controlled, as though you were both allowing yourselves the space to figure out exactly where this was going. "Aren’t you?"

Satoru’s eyes gleamed with that familiar mischief, but this time, it was different—laced with something deeper, more curious. His hand shifted from your chin to cup the side of your face, his touch soft yet confident, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a way that made your skin tingle.

"Maybe," he said, his tone casual but heavy with meaning. "I’m always curious about what happens next."

You felt your breath catch as his thumb continued its slow, lazy path over your skin, drawing a line down to your jaw. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t a heated, desperate moment. Instead, it felt like the two of you were experimenting, testing the waters with each small touch, each slow breath.

The intimacy of it all settled over you like a warm blanket—soft, enveloping, but not overwhelming. You were both here, in this quiet, lazy bubble, just the two of you figuring things out one heartbeat at a time. His hand lingered, his fingers sliding back behind your ear, his touch sending a light thrill down your spine, making the room feel smaller, quieter, more intense.

For a moment, neither of you moved. You were aware of the way your breath had quickened slightly, the way your heart pounded beneath your skin, but it wasn’t overwhelming. It felt natural, like this slow dance of curiosity was meant to be drawn out.

Satoru leaned in just a little more, his lips now just a breath away from yours. His eyes never left yours, like he was gauging your reaction, giving you the space to decide what came next. You could feel the tension between you, lazy but buzzing, both of you savoring the slow build-up.

"You want to test the waters a bit more?" His words were playful, but his voice had dropped lower, his tone laced with something heavier, like he was offering you a choice.

You tilted your head just slightly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you whispered back, "Maybe."

His grin softened, and in that moment, he seemed to relax into the atmosphere fully, leaning in until his forehead gently brushed against yours. The simple contact sent a wave of warmth through you, and you found yourself leaning into him, letting the tension build lazily, neither of you in a rush to dive in too deep just yet.

Satoru’s hand slid down to your neck, his fingers trailing lightly across your skin, leaving a warm, tingling sensation in their wake. His touch was gentle, almost experimental, like he was testing your reactions with each small movement.

"Still curious?" he murmured, the soft, teasing words sending a shiver down your spine. His voice was low, intimate, and it felt like a quiet invitation to keep exploring this moment, this new space you were both creating together.

You smiled, leaning into the feeling of his hand on your skin, the slow, lazy heat between you building with every passing second. "More curious than ever."

His laugh was soft, rumbling against your skin, and you could feel the warmth of it, the way it settled into the air around you. The closeness between you was intoxicating, but neither of you felt the need to rush things.

His fingers continued their slow exploration, tracing the line of your collarbone, sending light shivers through your body. You let your eyes close for a moment, focusing on the feeling of his touch, the warmth of his presence so close to yours.

Then, you felt him shift slightly, and when you opened your eyes again, his lips were hovering just a breath away from yours. He didn’t move any closer, though—just stayed there, waiting, watching you with that same lazy, teasing grin that always seemed to make your heart race.

"You sure about this?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, his breath warm against your lips.

You nodded, your own smile soft as you met his gaze. "Yeah, I’m sure."

And then, slowly, deliberately, you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips softly against his.

The kiss was gentle, tentative at first, like the two of you were still testing the waters, still figuring out how to navigate this new territory. But it wasn’t hesitant—it was curious, exploratory, as though you were both enjoying the slow, lazy build-up just as much as the kiss itself.

Satoru’s hand slid up to the back of your neck, pulling you just a little closer, but still keeping the pace slow, deliberate. His lips moved against yours in a way that made your skin tingle, every small movement sending ripples of warmth through you.

You could feel him smile against your lips, and you couldn’t help but smile back, the intimacy of the moment deepening as you both relaxed into the kiss, letting the curiosity between you take the lead.

Neither of you was in a hurry. The kiss stayed soft, exploratory, as though you were both savoring each second, each small movement, letting the lazy, intimate atmosphere guide you.

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, both of you breathing a little heavier, but still wrapped in that quiet, comfortable space you’d created together.

"Well," Satoru said, his voice still low and teasing, "I think I like this kind of curiosity."

You laughed softly, feeling the warmth of the moment settle over you, content in the knowledge that you had all the time in the world to keep exploring where this would take you. "Me too."

You push back your chair and stand slowly, the wooden legs scraping softly against the floor. Satoru steps back to give you space, his expression shifting from that lazy smirk to something more thoughtful, more curious, as he watches your movements closely. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you, but there’s no rush in the air between you—just that same slow, deliberate energy humming beneath the surface.

With a subtle flick of your wrist, your cursed energy ripples through the room, and the overhead lights dim, casting a soft, intimate glow around you both. The warm light now barely illuminates the space, creating shadows that stretch lazily across the room, giving everything a deeper, more intimate feel.

Satoru watches with an amused but impressed look, his eyes tracking the subtle shift in the atmosphere. His smile returns, a little softer now, more curious than before. "Setting the mood, huh?" he teases, but there’s no bite in his words, just a low, lazy murmur.

You turn to face him, your heart still beating steadily, though now there’s an air of playfulness in the way you move, more sure of yourself than before. "Well," you say with a small smile, "I figured we might as well make it comfortable, right?"

Satoru chuckles under his breath, stepping closer, the soft shadows playing over his features as he tilts his head slightly. "Comfortable, huh? Is that what you’re going for?" His tone is light, teasing, but there’s a softness to it, like he’s intrigued by this new side of you. He lets his gaze drift around the room, as if taking in the subtle change in atmosphere, before his eyes find yours again.

You feel the air between you shift even more as you close the small distance, the glow of the dimmed lights making everything feel warmer, more intimate. The shadows accentuate the way Satoru’s silver hair catches the light, the lines of his features more pronounced in the low light.

Satoru’s hands rest loosely at his sides, his posture relaxed but alert, as if waiting for your next move. He doesn’t rush in, doesn’t make a move to close the gap this time. Instead, he watches you, those bright blue eyes peering at you with a kind of lazy curiosity, letting you take control of the moment.

You take a step closer, standing just a breath away now, the soft hum of tension between you growing in the dimmed light. Your hands hover just in front of him, fingers brushing lightly over the fabric of his jacket, testing the waters, watching for his reaction.

He doesn’t pull away. Instead, he leans in just a fraction, his body language open, relaxed, and welcoming. His gaze remains fixed on yours, and though his smirk is still there, it’s tempered by something more sincere, something more curious.

"Is this part of your technique?" he asks softly, his voice low and smooth, teasing but with a hint of genuine interest. "Or are you just trying to distract me?"

You laugh quietly, your fingers trailing lightly up the lapel of his jacket before resting on his chest. "Maybe a bit of both," you reply, your voice soft but confident.

Satoru chuckles again, his breath warm against your skin as he leans in slightly, his hands finally coming up to rest gently on your waist, the touch lazy and casual but firm enough to let you know he’s fully present in this moment. His thumbs brush idly over your sides, and the simple contact sends a ripple of warmth through you, making the room feel even smaller, even more intimate.

"Seems like I’m not the only one who likes to play games," he murmurs, his voice dropping even lower, his lips just a breath away from your temple.

You feel a smile tug at your lips as you lean into the warmth of his touch, your hands resting lightly against his chest. "Maybe I’ve learned a thing or two from the best," you say, your tone equally playful but laced with something deeper, something genuine.

The quiet between you thickens as you stand there, the soft light casting shadows across your bodies, the energy between you lazy but charged with a sense of anticipation. Satoru’s grip on your waist tightens just slightly, his fingers pressing into your sides as he pulls you closer, the space between you all but disappearing.

He leans down, his lips brushing against your temple in a feather-light touch before trailing down toward your ear, his voice a low, lazy murmur. "You really have grown up, haven’t you?" There’s a playful edge to his words, but it’s softened by the intimacy of the moment, by the way his hands move gently over your body, exploring without rushing, without demanding.

Your hands slide up to his shoulders, fingers curling lightly around the fabric of his jacket, holding him close but not pulling him in too tight.

"You don’t seem too surprised," you whisper, your voice barely above a murmur as you rest your forehead lightly against his, the proximity making every small movement feel amplified.

Satoru’s lips curve into a lazy smile, his fingers brushing gently up and down your sides. "I think I’ve always known there was more to you than you let on."

His words are soft but laced with meaning, and they hang in the air between you, thickening the atmosphere even more. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you, the curiosity in his eyes as he watches your reactions, as if savoring each small shift in the energy between you.

You smile softly, your fingers playing with the fabric of his jacket as you let the moment stretch, the slow, intimate dance between you building with each passing second. "Maybe I was just waiting for the right moment."

Satoru hums softly, his hands sliding up your back now, his touch slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring the feel of you beneath his fingertips. "Seems like now’s as good a time as any."

You can’t help but smile at the way his words settle over you, at the lazy, curious pace you’ve both set, like there’s no rush to figure everything out right away. The air between you is thick with anticipation, but it’s the slow kind, the kind that simmers and builds, neither of you in any hurry to rush the moment.

You lean in just a little closer, your lips brushing against the corner of his mouth as you whisper, "Maybe it is."

The soft brush of your lips against the corner of his mouth lingers in the air, and you can feel the slight tension in Satoru’s body as he absorbs the moment. His hands on your waist tighten, just barely, as if anchoring you both in the lazy intimacy of the dimmed room. His breath catches for a second, and you sense the shift as curiosity gives way to something deeper, something far more intentional.

Satoru leans in, his lips barely grazing yours again, but this time, the hesitation dissolves. There’s no more teasing, no more waiting. The playful back and forth that had lingered between you shifts into a new rhythm, one filled with heat and slow, deliberate intent. His lips press fully against yours now, soft but firm, and you feel the warmth of him, the depth of the moment drawing you in.

The kiss is slow at first, lazy like everything else about this evening. Neither of you rushes it. You savor the feel of his lips moving against yours, the softness of his touch at your waist pulling you just a little closer until your bodies are fully pressed together. It’s like you’re both tasting the moment, letting it unfold naturally, as if the kiss has been building for longer than either of you realized.

Satoru’s hands slide up your back, the warmth of his palms seeping through the fabric of your shirt as he deepens the kiss, tilting his head just slightly to the side to get closer, to feel more of you. His mouth moves against yours in a slow, languid dance, as though he’s content to take his time, exploring each second, each shift in the way your lips meet. His fingers curl into the material of your shirt, gripping just enough to hold you in place, but not with any force—just enough to keep you tethered to him.

You respond in kind, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer still, your lips parting slightly to allow him deeper access. The kiss remains slow, unhurried, but with each passing second, the intensity builds. His tongue traces the edge of your lips before slipping between them, the warmth of him flooding your senses as you lose yourself in the sensation. The room around you seems to disappear, the dim lights and soft shadows fading into the background as the kiss becomes the center of everything.

Your fingers thread into the soft strands of his hair, pulling gently, and you feel a low hum rumble in his chest in response. It sends a shiver down your spine, the sound of his contentment deepening the connection between you both. There’s a sense of playfulness still, but it’s mingled with something deeper, more real. The curiosity you both had about what might happen has been replaced with a quiet certainty—this is happening, and neither of you wants it to stop.

The kiss grows deeper, more insistent, but it never loses that lazy, slow rhythm you’ve both settled into. It’s as if you’re both savoring every second, every brush of lips and hands, letting the moment stretch as long as possible without rushing into anything too fast.

You tilt your head, responding to the way his mouth moves against yours, your body molding against his as you press closer, feeling the heat radiate from him. His scent, his presence, his touch—all of it overwhelms your senses, drowning out everything else but the two of you standing here, exploring this new territory with slow, deliberate care.

His hands tighten on your hips as the kiss deepens further, his tongue brushing against yours in a lazy, teasing way that makes your knees weaken just slightly. It’s like he’s tasting you, savoring the way your bodies move together, your breath mingling with his in the soft quiet of the room.

Finally, when the need for air becomes undeniable, you pull back just slightly, your lips still grazing his as you both catch your breath. The air between you feels charged, the soft hum of tension still simmering but not quite boiling over. You can feel the heat between your bodies, the way your breaths are still shallow, mingling in the small space between you.

Satoru’s forehead rests gently against yours, his breath warm against your lips, and you can feel the faintest smile tugging at his mouth. His hands remain at your hips, keeping you close, and though the kiss has ended for now, the connection between you hasn’t weakened.

His voice is low, almost a murmur, as he speaks against your lips. "That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I came here tonight," he says, his tone teasing but soft, like he’s letting you in on a secret.

You smile, your fingers still tangled in his hair as you gently pull back just enough to look into his eyes. "What did you have in mind then?" you ask, your voice equally soft, your breath still shaky from the kiss.

Satoru chuckles, his thumb brushing lightly against your side. "Honestly? I don’t know anymore." There’s a softness in his gaze now, something far more genuine than the playful smirk he usually wears. "But I think I like where this is going."

You smile, feeling the warmth of his hands still resting on your hips, the way his body remains so close to yours. The lazy, intimate energy that had been simmering between you all night has deepened, but there’s no rush to push things further just yet. You both seem content to let this moment stretch, to keep testing the waters and seeing where it leads.

You pull back just slightly, your hands still resting on his shoulders as you tilt your head, giving him a teasing look. "So, you’re not regretting showing up unannounced?"

Satoru grins, his eyes glinting in the dim light as he shakes his head. "Regret? Nah, not my style."

You laugh softly, leaning into the warmth of his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palms. "Good," you murmur, your voice soft but playful. "Because I wasn’t exactly planning on this either… but I’m not complaining."

"I like this side of you," he says quietly, his voice low, the teasing edge tempered by something softer, more sincere. "The confidence, the way you take control. It's different."

You meet his gaze, your own smile growing as you feel the weight of his words settle between you. "Maybe you bring it out of me," you reply, your tone matching his, slow and curious.

Satoru’s grin softens into something warmer, more intimate. "Maybe I do." His hand moves to cup your cheek gently, his thumb brushing over your skin in a tender, lingering caress. "And maybe… we should see where this goes."

The question hangs in the air between you, but there’s no pressure, no rush. It’s an invitation, a gentle promise that you both have all the time in the world to explore whatever this is, at your own pace.

You smile, leaning into his touch, feeling the warmth of his hand on your skin, and you nod, your voice barely above a whisper as you say, "Yeah. Let’s see where this goes."

The night had stretched on, a slow, lazy rhythm that matched the soft hum of energy between you and Satoru. What began with teasing touches and lingering kisses had transitioned into something deeper, more intimate. The dim light, the quiet, the way the air seemed to hold only the two of you—it all added to the steady, unhurried exploration of each other. You could still feel the warmth of his hands on your skin, the soft brush of his lips on yours, the quiet laughter shared between more tender moments.

The details of the night blurred together, wrapped in the haze of half-whispered words and languid touches. The way he had pulled you closer, bodies fitting perfectly against one another as though you'd known each other in this way far longer than just one night. The warmth of his breath at your ear as he murmured something teasing, something that made your heart flutter and your skin tingle with anticipation. You had let yourself sink into the moment, the feeling of being wrapped up in him, of giving and receiving in a slow, steady rhythm.

And then the stillness afterward—the quiet between you as you lay together, breath steady, heartbeats calming. His arm had draped lazily over your waist, and your head had found a place on his chest, rising and falling with the rhythm of his breathing. There were no words, no need for explanations. The night had unfolded in a way that felt natural, as though it was meant to be.

Now, the morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm, golden hue across the room. The air was still quiet, the city sounds outside muted and distant. You stirred slightly, feeling the sheets cool against your skin as you shifted. A soft hum escaped your lips as you blinked your eyes open, the remnants of sleep clinging to you.

Satoru was still beside you, lying on his back, one arm loosely thrown over his head, the other resting gently at his side. His silver hair caught the morning light, messy from sleep but somehow still perfect in that infuriatingly effortless way of his. His sunglasses were nowhere to be seen, and his eyes—those brilliant blue eyes—were closed, his expression soft and peaceful in the early light.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him like this, the usual confidence and cocky demeanor replaced with something more relaxed, more real. For a moment, you just watched him, the memory of the night before still fresh in your mind, the warmth of it settling over you like a blanket. It felt like a secret shared between the two of you, something just for you to hold onto.

Carefully, you shifted, slipping out of bed as quietly as you could, not wanting to disturb him just yet. The cool floor against your feet grounded you, bringing you fully into the present as you padded softly across the room. You found one of his shirts—something he must’ve discarded at some point in the night—and pulled it over your head, the fabric soft and warm, carrying the faint scent of him.

The room felt different in the morning light, the soft shadows from last night replaced with a golden glow. Everything felt quieter now, the intimacy of the night lingering in the air. You moved to the window, pulling the curtains back just slightly to let more light in, the city below beginning to wake up, though the world inside your room still felt like it was suspended in its own private moment.

Behind you, you heard the soft rustle of sheets, and when you turned back, Satoru had stirred. His eyes fluttered open, blinking against the light, and he stretched lazily, a small grin spreading across his face when he saw you standing there.

"Morning," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep but laced with that familiar teasing tone.

"Morning," you replied softly, leaning against the window frame, your smile mirroring his.

Satoru propped himself up on one elbow, the sheets pooling around his waist as he gave you a once-over, his grin widening when he noticed you wearing his shirt. "Looks good on you," he said, his voice still carrying that lazy, slow rhythm from the night before.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. "Thought I’d steal it," you teased.

"By all means," he replied with a chuckle, stretching his arms above his head in a slow, languid motion, the muscles in his chest and shoulders shifting under the morning light. "It’s a good look."

There was something so easy about this moment—no awkwardness, no rush to define anything. Just the two of you, the intimacy of the night still hanging between you, soft and unspoken. Satoru leaned back against the headboard, his eyes lazily tracing your movements as you crossed the room, coming back toward the bed.

"You sleep okay?" you asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed, feeling the warmth of his body next to you even through the thin layer of sheets.

"Like a baby," he murmured, his grin softening as he reached out, his hand finding your knee and giving it a gentle squeeze. "You?"

You nodded, your smile growing as you thought back to the comfort of falling asleep next to him, the quiet after the slow, intimate dance you'd shared. "Better than I have in a while."

Satoru’s fingers trailed lazily up your thigh, his touch warm and unhurried, just like everything else about this morning. He seemed content to take his time, to let the quiet intimacy between you both linger in the air. His eyes held yours, a slow, knowing smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"Good," he murmured, his voice low and smooth, still carrying that lazy, teasing quality from the night before. "Though I wouldn’t mind a repeat performance if you’re up for it."

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you nudged him playfully. "You never change, do you?"

His grin widened, and he gave a small shrug, his hand sliding down your leg before coming to rest on the bed beside him. "What can I say? I’m consistent."

The lightness in his voice made you smile, and you leaned down, brushing a soft kiss against his lips before pulling back and standing again. "Let’s start with coffee first, shall we?"

Satoru let out a dramatic sigh, flopping back onto the bed with an exaggerated groan. "Fine. But only because you make it sound tempting."

As you moved toward the small kitchenette, you could still feel the warmth of his gaze on you, his presence filling the room even in the quiet of the morning. The night before had been unexpected, yes—but somehow, it felt like the natural progression of whatever had been brewing between you for so long. And as the morning stretched on, with the scent of coffee beginning to fill the air, you couldn’t help but feel like this was only the beginning of something even more exciting.

Something worth exploring.

notes: i'm so sorry this is this long - but i had to keep writing uahdsuhudsh

©apollogeticx ⋆ all rights reserved.

[vodika-vibes]

A Choice Made

Summary: When Howzer comes to you in the middle of the night, panicked and frantic, you realize you must make a choice. Of course, the reality is that you made your choice years ago.

Pairing: Captain Howzer x F!Reader

Word Count: 764

Warnings: None

A/N: Hello and Happy New Year everyone! this is my first story of 2025, and sorry if it's not the greatest. I got a new keyboard for Christmas and it's a lot bigger than the one I was using. Anyway! I hope you all like it~

Your home is quiet again.

Howzer, your Howzer, is sleeping peacefully in the bed next to you. He looks peaceful, and you’re glad for it. When he showed up several hours ago, he had been filled with a frantic energy that, frankly, worried you.

But a hot dinner and a warm shower did wonders to settle him, at least enough that he could explain what sent him to you in such a rush.

And that is why you’re still awake. 

His words echo through your mind even now. 

“The Empire knows about you. They’ll use you as a weapon against me. We need to leave.”

You knew this was a possibility when you agreed to date him all those years ago. And you knew the threat to you would only increase when you agreed to marry him.

But things had been so peaceful, even with everything going on in the core, so you allowed yourself to believe that everything would be okay. You’ve always been good at lying to yourself.

You shift in the bed and focus your attention back on Howzer, your fingers gentle as they comb through his hair. He doesn’t even stir.

It’s a testament to just how stressed and tired he is. 

He stirs as your fingers fall to the scar on his cheek, and his pretty eyes flutter open, sleepiness vanishing in a heartbeat when he sees you sitting against the headboard.

“What’s wrong?”

And, despite the seriousness of the situation you’ve found yourself in, a smile lifts your lips. That’s your husband, always alert for any danger directed towards you. “Nothing,”

He sits up and shifts so that he’s leaning against the headboard as well, and then coaxes you into his arms. Something you’re only all too happy to do. You always feel safest when wrapped in his arms after all.

“Then why aren’t you sleeping?” 

“I was thinking.”

He pulls you so that you’re sitting on his lap, and one of his hands comes up to press against your cheek. Immediately you close your eyes and press your cheek against his hand, rubbing your cheek against his rough palm. 

“Are you considering staying here?” Howzer asks, his voice quiet.

“No, of course not.” You slide your arms around his neck, “My place, Howzer, is by your side. You know that.”

“I’m asking a lot from you, cyare.”

“You’re not asking anything that I won’t happily give.” You press your forehead against his, “I was thinking of the logistics of moving. About where to go and how to get there.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. I’m going to handle everything.”

You shake your head, “You don’t have to.”

“Yes. I do.”

He sounds so convinced of this, that you pull back to stare at him, “Howzer?”

“You…” he trails off, and then a small smile lifts his lips and he pulls you into a gentle kiss. “I love you, so much. You know that?”

You blink at him, “Well, I would hope so. You did marry me, after all.”

“I did. And it remains the smartest thing I’ve ever done in my life,” Howzer replies with a small smile, “And you…you’re the daughter of the Organa Family—”

“Distantly. I’m distantly related to the Organa family—” You remind him.

He ignores you, “And you came to Ryloth in the hopes to stop slavers from kidnapping the twi’leks and you set up a center to help former slaves adjust to being free,” Howzer trails off again, his expression soft as he looks at you, “You would have been well within your rights to tell me to go to hell when I asked you out. But you didn’t. You agreed. And kept agreeing.”

“You make it sound like it was a crazy thing,” You reply.

“It was a crazy thing. And it’s even crazier that you said yes when I asked you to marry me.” Howzer says with a grin, “But I’m asking you to abandon your life’s work. So let me take care of everything. Please.”

You sigh softly, “If you insist.”

“I do.” Howzer trails his lips down your face, “Assuming, of course, you choose to come with me.”

“You silly, silly man.” You shift on his lap so you’re straddling him, and press your hands against his cheeks, “I made my choice. Years ago. You’re my choice. No matter where you lead me.”

Howzer stares at you for a moment, and then he pulls you into a deep kiss. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Silly,” You reply against his lips, “I made that choice years ago too.”

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[yuan4i]

45. double date

“i’ve been absolutely dying to go to this cafe ever since yn dropped that brunch pic on twitter!” kaveh squealed standing outside the cafe waiting for you and sethos. his hair was tied up in a low bun, with clips in his hair. his boyfriend raising an eyebrow and giving him a weird look. “seriously? being excited over such a trivial matter is awfully childish,” al haitham murmured under his breath. “whatever! anyways, do you think yn and sethos are running late?” the blonde asked, trying to make conversation. truthfully, kaveh was nervous. he was anxious to see his crush longtime former crush with another guy. not to mention that the entire week since exams had felt so stressful due to the number of quarrels he and al haitham had. “well obviously they are considering that they aren’t here yet.” the time was 2:15, however, the two of you were nowhere to be in sight. 

“... yeah you’re right… hey um, i’ve been wanting to talk about something important lately and if we have the time–” “oh my god we are so so sorry for being late!” there you were, running towards the couple. “sethos and i were getting ready and then i got distracted-” “we both got distracted babe. don’t put it all on yourself!” he chuckled at your out-of-breath state. “it’s fine! don’t worry about it! c’mon, let’s go in.” 

the four of you talked and chatted while waiting for the totoro bread buns. “so, yn! when did you and sethos meet?” the blonde across the table asked you. “at the party you two threw like two weeks ago! i was so wasted when we met and then we ended up kissing at haitham’s front door…!” you giggled, covering your face. “that moment was such a blur! he ended up giving me his number after tighnari caught us!” 

“aww that’s so cute–” “dating someone you’ve only known for two weeks is irrational.” al haitham scoffed. the table was silent. “... i mean sethos and i aren’t actually dating though?” you nervously laughed it off, then looked away out the window. “oh my god that was so fucking insensitive for you to say! you’ve been acting like a cold jerk ever since exams ended. just what is your problem?” kaveh exclaimed, standing up from the table and placing down his cash. “i’m leaving. i’ll see you guys around.”

CULT OF DIONYSUS ❀ prev ✿ masterlist ✿ next

al haitham x reader x kaveh SYNOPSIS  kaveh, al haitham and you are close friends and went to the same high school. but after your junior year, you left them and sumeru behind for liyue’s 2 year med school exchange program. now you’re back in sumeru for a class reunion and attending sumeru akademiya.

note : hii i'm acc so sorry for being so dead LMAO umm anyways, i wrote all this just now so lmk if there are any errors! i'll be trying to update at least once a week now bc i wanna finish cod before 2024 ends!! tysm for reading <33!

[humbledragon669]

S2E1 - The Arrival Write Up P8 - the Present Day from the "I Was Wrong" dance

I don’t see any point in beating about the bush, let’s dive straight in – plenty still to cover in this final five minutes (sans credits) of the first episode of season two. The first item in my notes for this section is something we see for just a few frames before Crowley even gets through the door of the bookshop:

This is not a happy angel. In fact he looks almost tormented, doesn’t he? Sitting there, just staring into space. Goodness knows what’s going through his head at this point, but I don’t think he’s thinking about whatever it was he had intended to do when he sat down behind his desk. And whatever it is, it looks like he’s pretty deep in thought given his jump-scare reaction when the door opens. Speaking of which, the door has either been left unlocked or Crowley has miracled it open, because there is no sound of a door rattling or key turning in the lock before he comes striding into the shop. Either of those possibilities has some lovely subtext – the former would suggest Aziraphale has deliberately left it open knowing that Crowley is going to come back (don’t forget, it’s now full dark outside, so it’s likely way past closing time), the latter suggests that Crowley knows he would have locked up and wants his entrance into the shop to be dramatic. I lean towards the former, but that’s largely due to the lack of evidence to support the latter.

I’m going to state the obvious at this point. I absolutely love the scene that follows. I think it’s probably a fandom favourite. The chemistry between this pair is bang on, the comedy timing is perfect, and we get a couple of new Aziracrow history facts. Not to mention we get to see Crowley do a little dance (which was unspeakably surprising in the first watch – I think I actually squealed). And I was in love with this scene before the chemistry, before the dance, before Crowley takes off his glasses, even before Aziraphale puts on his glasses and pretends to be busy. Here’s the moment I fell in love with this scene:

I’m sure you won’t be surprised to read that it was the soundtrack that initially swept me off my feet here. That moaning guitar noise gets me weak at the knees every single time. But it doesn’t really stop there for the genius score writing – check out the beginning of the next phrase with the plucked strings. Classic music-writing device to convey comedy, and I think the two are perfectly placed – the guitar slides in as Crowley slithers his way back into the shop, the strings make their star entrance as we see Aziraphale trying to make the impression that he’s busy, not at all thinking about the argument he’s had with Crowley and wondering when he’s going to come back, thank-you-very-much.

I seriously adore this movement he makes for two reasons. Firstly because he has to readjust his entire posture and position to settle into the place that would be necessary to actually work at his desk. Look how far he has to shift his butt forward to lean over the desk properly! The second reason I love this is because Crowley is already stood right in front of him, looking at him. He would have seen the entire thing. It’s so blatantly obvious that this is an act, not just for us as an audience but for Crowley too.

Personal side note: I am actually sitting here giggling at everything as I rewatch tiny bits of this scene whilst I write this. I just can’t help it. Did I mention I love this scene? Right, back to it…

Let’s make it very clear what this dramatic gesture (complete with comedic string glissando to really highlight the movement) is shall we? We know that Crowley has been in Aziraphale’s presence without his sunglasses on countless occasions. We also know that he only really removes his sunglasses when he’s comfortable in his surroundings and his company (at least in the AD years). I can’t imagine he is comfortable with either of those things at this present moment at time, considering that he knows he’s in trouble. I don’t think I’d be alone in thinking that he does this at this particular moment in time to show Aziraphale that he’s making himself vulnerable for the angel. He has nowhere to hide without those glasses – he’s completely exposed. Which is also why I think he makes a big show of it: it’s actually a grand (somewhat melodramatic) gesture – “look at what I’m doing for you, so you’ll know how earnest I’m being”. This complicated subtext really demonstrates the reason I love this scene so much – there are just so many layers in it.

Whatever I think of Crowley’s “grand gesture”, Aziraphale ain’t buying it. I’m sure that stubborn angel saw what Crowley has done, but it’s just met with a clearing of the throat and a fake “that’s interesting” noise as he reads his little index cards. But that little noise really says something else to me – it’s a sort of “is that all you got?”. The message is pretty clear to everyone – this angel is still pretty pissed.

The set of Crowley’s jaw in this little shot is quite something, isn’t it?! I love the way he’s gone from a cautious-yet-dramatic entrance to try and establish the lay of the land to simply throwing his sunglasses on the table and ringing a bell to announce his arrival. It’s almost like he thinks he really has to emphasise that he’s taken off his glasses, you know, just in case Aziraphale hadn’t noticed. And the “I’m back” line? On the surface it’s stating the obvious, but let’s not forget why the angel had asked him to come to the bookshop in the first place – to take his place as the rescuer. This is him announcing he’s taking up the mantle again, and don’t you just love that he thinks that will be enough to let him get away without having to apologise? Gotta love him for trying I suppose.

There is a shot of Aziraphale in the Bentley that we’ll see in episode 3 that I have seen described as being the best demonstration of the angel in full bitch mode. I disagree – I think this moment takes it. This is pure bitchy rage and sarcasm at its absolute best. And underneath the snark and the stubborn refusal to look at Crowley to acknowledge that he has laid himself bare, there’s a clear message: “it’s not enough”. Crowley’s groan is evidence that for once he hasn’t missed his cue – as much as he might be hoping to get away without making an apology, he knows that’s probably not going to happen. I say probably because he tries to get out of it again:

CROWLEY: You want a big “I think I said the wrong thing” sort of apology, or can we take that as said?

I find the choice of words here interesting. Notice he doesn’t say “I did the wrong thing” or even “I was wrong”. It feels to me like there’s an element of “I’m sorry you feel that way” about, like he’s not really sorry for saying those things, but bitter about their consequences. And let’s not forget that he not only said a lot of things that Aziraphale got upset with, but reneging on the arrangement of him being the rescuer, leaving the angel to deal with the situation alone, likely causes more anger than the words that were said. He also says “I think” before the rest of the phrase (suggesting he really doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong), not to mention that this whole sentence is actually just a last-ditch attempt to get out of the apology. It’s not really any surprise that Aziraphale isn’t satisfied with this lame excuse for an olive branch.

Did I say that little sarcastic line from earlier was Aziraphale’s bitchiest moment? My bad. This. This is it here. Man, if words could kill, these would do it. And note that Crowley still doesn’t actually take responsibility for his actions, choosing instead to try and placate his angel by telling him he was right instead.

I think we’re about to find out what it is that Aziraphale was thinking about whilst he was staring into space at the beginning of the scene.

There it is – he was never going to take anything less, was he? There is so much to unpack here too.

AZIRAPHALE: I want a proper apology- CROWLEY: No.

That’s interesting – Crowley knew exactly what was coming before Aziraphale actually asked for it. Which makes it clear that this “proper apology” is something that has been referred to before. Next up:

AZIRAPHALE: -with the little dance. CROWLEY: I don’t do the dance.

Curiouser and curiouser… So Crowley has never done this dance before. Hold your horses though, because here comes a piece of Aziracrow lore that everyone is dying to know more about. According to Aziraphale, he’s performed this dance at least three times before. I say at least because it actually sounds like he’s going to keep going with that list (if I was a betting person, I’d say the last of those dates might have been after Crowley delivered the Antichrist to the nunnery). He’s also furious about it.

And whatever those dances were for, the reason(s) was significant enough for the dates to be carved into Aziraphale’s memory (granted two of the three tie up with known meetings between the two of them, and I know we’re all pretty sure that 1941 is going to turn out to have been meaningful for other reasons). I have my own theory about the reason behind the dances, which I have written a fanfic about. Feel free to read it here if you like, just know that it’s a WIP at the moment (still!) until I get to the 1941 minisode in this season (which, at this rate, is going to be a little while).

It’s at this point I want to pick up on how we as a fandom refer to what’s about to happen. I think I’ve seen it mostly called the “Apology Dance” - I have in fact referred to it by that name almost every time I’ve talked about it. However, neither Crowley nor Aziraphale actually call it that. Crowley simply refers to it as “the dance”, whilst Aziraphale calls it by three names - “a proper apology”, the “little dance”, or the “I-was-wrong dance”. I don’t think it’s hugely important, and I think that, unfortunately, the adopted name may have come about due to a reference made to by the creator. I think there might be something interesting in the fact that it isn’t actually called an “apology dance”, by either of its benefactors, on a linguistic level, but that’s not for here. There are some details about the linguistics used for the words that go along with the dance that I’d like to take a brief look at in just a moment. For now let’s just soak up in the silent sass we see Aziraphale gives Crowley to signal that he’s ready for the performance:

I mean, could this angel be more ready to revel in Crowley’s humiliation? The head tilt. The eyebrow raise. Such perfect bitch-delivery. Something that the 3-second long pause we see before the performance actually begins would suggest that the demon is well aware of, and that he’s still silently begging not to have to go through with the whole thing. Let’s get back to those “lyrics”.

CROWLEY: You were right, you were right, I was wrong, you were right.

There are a couple of things I find interesting about this set of words, the first being the fact that there isn’t actually an apology anywhere in them. The other requires remembering that this dance has only been previously been performed by Aziraphale for Crowley, which means that these words were devised to appease the demon. What we don’t know at this point is who devised them in the first place. I do hope that we’ll get some closure about this whole thing in season’t 3, but I just don’t know if there will be enough time in 90 minutes to cover the topic.

I am not ignoring the fact that the final pose of the dance looks distinctly like Crowley has extended his wings, I just feel like it’s probably so obvious I might be insulting people by pointing it out. What I do want to give credit to is the depth David has gotten out of that ice skater/one-legged squat pose. Honestly, I do yoga and a squats work out on a regular basis, and that sort of depth (without falling over) is not even close to being within my reach.

Last thing to say about the dance itself, or rather the music that goes along with it. This little tune took me a long time to identify, and it nearly drive me nuts, but I did get there in the end. I think it’s “Girls and Boys Come Out to Play”. Or it could just be a sequence of descending minor thirds, because I can’t see how the lyrics or history of that song links to anything about GO. Answers on a postcard.

Jeez, Aziraphale, could you thirst any harder? (Yes, it’s coming up in the next episode…) It doesn’t look like Crowley really notices, though he does understand that consent has now been given for him to resume his role as rescuer, closing the distance (very quickly) between them. He also returns to using collective pronouns instantly:

CROWLEY: We need to keep him here and hide him.

Aziraphale doesn’t notice until the demon uses the word “together”, and even then it comes as a bit of a surprise. (Side note: there appears to be a fire alarm going off somewhere in the background at this point. Not as obvious as the helicopter I could hear earlier on in the scene I suppose…) And despite the fact that Crowley is trying to do his thing (rescuing), he’s still clearly very, VERY worried about the plan - we’ve gone into full hand-wringing, freak-out-face mode:

It only really occurred to me what this look of intense worry might have been whilst I was doing this write up. I’m going to try and be as succinct as I can here, but I don’t know if I can word it very precisely. So. It’s only at this point that the suggestion of the pair of them doing half a miracle is raised, by Aziraphale. Which means that, despite Crowley using collective pronouns and saying that they were going to do it together, what he actually meant was that Aziraphale could do a miracle. And what Aziraphale meant when he said that he couldn’t do it because Heaven would notice even the smallest miracle was that he a) interpreted Crowley’s plan in that same way in the first place and b) was subtextually saying that actually the demon should do the miracle himself. Crowley’s defence that he doesn’t want Hell’s attention would suggest that he in turn understood what was being asked. Furthermore, Crowley’s reaction to Aziraphale’s suggestion now would also back up that idea that he wasn’t actually suggesting that they do a joint miracle in the first place, because it’s clear that this is a new idea for him. Phew, that was a lot of words to say that their exactlys weren’t exactly the same exactlys, but I felt like I had to get it out of my head. And of course it would be remiss of me to point out how thrilled Aziraphale is at getting Crowley’s approval, but I do feel like that’s been discussed at length by many other people already, so instead I’ll just leave this here:

It seems like such a long time since I talked about anybody other than Crowley or Aziraphale, and it feels even longer since I talked about Gabriel/Jim, and about how he does seem to understand some social cues. Well, here he is, clearly interpreting Crowley’s dislike of him with indignation:

He even manages a little sass of his own when he has to repeat his adopted name to Crowley. He softens quickly enough though, letting himself be led into the chair, which brings me to my next observation. The chair appears to have been placed directly over the (inactive) seal that marks the portal to Heaven.

Obviously there’s a rug over it now, but I’m pretty sure that’s the right spot. Why there? There are any number of places that Crowley could have put that chair. He could even just have left it where it was. Does he even know what he’s done? I don’t think we’ve ever seen him in the bookshop with it uncovered or activated, so perhaps not, but it feels like a pretty big coincidence if that’s the case. I know we all love the idea that the reason the miracle that’s about to be performed is so strong because it was done by both of them, but I do also wonder if the placing of the chair has anything to do with it.

I find it interesting that Crowley is only really worried about attracting Heaven’s attention at this point. He doesn’t mention Hell in this little speech at all, and Aziraphale doesn’t offer his own counter-speech to Crowley. The demon does in fact seem to be doing his absolute best to reign the angel in as much as possible, something which Aziraphale doesn’t dispute or bicker over. There’s something else - and it’s to do with the miracle noise used here:

Oh, wait. That’s not the miracle noise from this scene, is it? It’s the miracle noise from Aziraphale vanishing the soldier in the last episode of season 1. This is actually the miracle noise from the season 2 scene:

Yeah… they’re the same (if you're not convinced, try listening through headphones - I'm not sure the first component comes through in the first clip properly on speakers). There are a number of possibilities for this. Firstly, and this is something I have been toying with more and more as the season has gone one, that the noise isn’t actually related to the caster of the miracle, but the caster’s intentions (good vs. bad). This would work for this scenario, as the intentions in both scenes aren’t driven by morality but by need. The second possibility is that the sound contents aren’t actually relevant to anything other than to signify that a miracle has happened. I don’t buy this - this show is far too heavy on the hidden details for that to be a thing as far as I’m concerned, but even if that is the case, that will also become important in time. Thirdly, is it possible that Crowley didn’t actually didn’t do anything except move his hand down here? That would explain why he was so focussed on telling Aziraphale not to overdo it, whilst simultaneously avoiding making assurances that he would do the same. We never see Hell tracing anything back to Crowley either, which sort of makes sense because Gabriel is one of theirs, but also doesn’t make sense because Beelzebub has made it very clear that she’s also looking for the lost archangel, and that she believes Crowley has knowledge about it. There’s also something else to consider, which you can see here:

Now obviously we don’t really have anything to compare this to - this is the first time we’ve seen some sort of barrier formed by ethereal/occult intervention (their words, not mine). That said, it looks to me like all those little highlights that run through the barrier are gold, which is very definitely part of the Heavenly colour scheme (see the outfit Crowley chooses to manifest for his visit to Heaven). There are no other colours here at all. One last thing to think about:

CROWLEY: That was a Class A surreptitious half-a-miracle.

Huh. Not two half-a-miracles. Just one. Singular. Which would imply that only one of them did what they had agreed to do, and only Crowley would know that, because in this theory, he’s the only one of them that hasn’t carried out his part of the deal. I have no idea why this would be, or the motivations behind it, but I definitely think it’s something to chew on. Speaking of things to chew on, I can’t stop wondering why Aziraphale looks like he’s about to give Crowley a talking-to after he says that he’s not the archangel’s friend.

No idea what that bothers me so much. Partly because of how cheerfully he’s just spoken to Jim I think, that it’s such a turn-around, but I can’t really pin it down.

There’s one tiny thing I want to pick up before I (finally) sign off on this episode. It’s the way that Michael refers to Aziraphale.

MICHAEL: There’s a former angel in this up to his bookshop-owning neck.

Interesting. As far as I was concerned, Aziraphale was very much still an angel. He might not officially work for Heaven anymore but that doesn’t negate the nature of his being. That’s a little like saying that a retired racehorse isn’t a horse any longer. Maybe it’s supposed to reflect how Heaven thinks of him now, but I find it an interesting choice of words nonetheless. More to chew on.

Well I don’t know about you, but that last couple of minutes gave me a lot of things to think about! This episode has felt somewhat like a marathon compared to those in season 1, but I think the likelihood is that the rest of the season (Final 15 excluded) should be an easier affair. If nothing else, the next couple of episodes should break down a little easier given the minisode format that was employed. Congratulations if you made it this far with me - this one has been a long one! As always, questions, comments, discussion: always welcome. See you for the next one! 😊

[themculibrary]

Hawkeye: Series Masterlist

Christmas in July (ao3) - Alexismobeal yelena/kate M, 276k

Summary: With Yelena in NYC for mysterious reasons and Kate on a job for a mystery friend, our two future bffs finally share that drink and ultimately quite a bit more.

Collateral Damage (ao3) - rainbowanatomy, yelena/kate M, 17k

Summary: “Kate Bishop,” she coos, and you whimper in response. You can feel her smile as her lips reach your ear lobe. “Where is he?”

From Russia with Begrudging Acceptance (ao3) - Loislame84 yelena/kate M, 151k

Summary: Post Hawkeye.

Kate needs a friend. Yelena needs a friend.

The two have to decide what comes next for them.

Friends turn into more after Yelena deals with her past trauma.

Two idiots in love really.

Hate Our Love (ao3) - pepperbrook_99 yelena/kate M, 127k

Summary: Kate has one night stand not knowing that she is the sister of her professor. Yelena can’t believe she had sex with one of Natasha students and Clint’s protege. Kate younger and rich which should be enough coming from different worlds to turn her off but she can’t get her out of her mind

Hope Sent A-Quiver (ao3) - OrionLady clint/laura T, 122k

Summary: Nearly two years after they saved the world and defeated Thanos, Clint is a walking shell of himself, though he puts on a brave front for his family.

Six months after Spiderman dies—a mute, homeless teenager appears in the woods around the Barton farmstead.

This is the story of how they resurrect each other.

Let Your Heart Be Light (ao3) - quiet_rebel clint/kate E, 2k

Summary: The smutty version of the Christmas party Kate threw for Clint | Spoilers for 1x04

Misunderstandings (ao3) - Thatoneloser_kid yelena/kate G, 8k

Summary: Clint was very much unimpressed when Kate showed up with Yelena in tow.

“Seriously?” He grumbled while Kate grabbed the bottle of whiskey and a few snacks from the kitchen, Yelena waiting on the sofa with the dogs.

“What?”

“There is some sort of faulty wiring happening up here,” Clint poked at Kate’s forehead, Kate batting his hand away. “For you to be into the girl who tried to kill you.”

“I’m not-” Kate scoffed. “Shut up.”

Red Room Renovations (ao3) - CelticKitten25 yelena/kate, wanda/natasha, clint/laura, kate/agatha E, 772k

Summary: Kate Bishop always wanted a balanced love life in which she had a loving life partner who also is her dominant. She has experienced trauma in the past but with her found family, she is ready to dip her toes again in the kink scene. Determined to have a better experience, she decides to have a sex room built in her penthouse. What happens when she meets the general contractor/sister of the owner of Red Room Renovations? Will sparks fly? Will she finally meet the "one" who will do it all with her?

rockefeller state of mind (ao3) - duri yelena/kate E, 18k

Summary: Yelena is standing right in front of her, arms still in front of her like she’s ready to block a punch (because that’s what they’re doing, they’re literally in the middle of a fight, what the hell), her eyes glint and her lips curve upwards to form an infuriating grin.

“Did you just moan?”

Or, the one where Kate and Yelena take a quick break from fighting to fall in love.

Simple Pleasures (ao3) - JobethDalloway yelena/kate E, 72k

Summary: "Can I tell you something I wanted to do at the museum all day, Kate Bishop?" Kate waited for her to say something, but instead, Yelena just shifted her hand closer to Kate's and threaded their fingers together. // A hopelessly romantic lesbian finds herself the one person an emotionally guarded former assassin wants to open up to.

smitten’s a bad look on me (ao3) - arrowsandbows yelena/kate E, 34k

Summary: Kate and Yelena partner up. Kate and Yelena start hooking up. (Kate’s trying to be cool about it.)

This is a Great Plan (ao3) - Peter_Pandemonium yelena/kate T, 46k

Summary: Being the heir to Bishop Security, a loving dog mom, and the world’s best archer have kept Kate too busy to have a relationship.

But when an invite to an important charity event and some unfortunate paparazzi attention coincide, Kate finds herself in need of a date who can stay cool under pressure. It sounds like the perfect job for an ex-assassin who also happens to be extremely hot and charming.

Or: The fluffy, fake relationship one full of pining, flirting, and Yelena smirking at Kate a lot. ;)

warm (ao3) - gaymess yelena/kate E, 177k

Summary: Kate doesn't know when 'Kate Bishop' becomes a term of endearment in their friendship, but she's not willing to question it.

As long as it means that Yelena is here to stay, Kate is more than happy to hear her call her by her full name for the rest of their lives.

With the lights out, it's less dangerous (ao3) - luscious_words yelena/kate E, 88k

Summary: Kate is sad and angry with the world after returning to New York. Yelena drops by for that drink and is soft.

This fic is meant to explore Kate's internal turmoil following the events of season 1; featuring our cute assassin who loves Kate Bishop so much.

[kitty-tea]

Why do you hate me?

Link to masterlist

Part two

Severus Snape x f!reader

WC: 1.5k

Summary: After starting your job as a professor at Hogwarts, you don’t understand why Professor Snape is the one person who doesn’t seem to like you.

Warnings: age gap, angst, SFW, crying, slightly OOC Snape

I still have some stuff I need to catch up on but maybe I can make a part two soon?💁🏻‍♀️

You were more than thrilled when you were accepted to fill in the position for the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. As Dumbledore introduced you to the school at the Welcoming Feast, your eyes went over to the Slytherin table where you recognized some of the students you went to school with who were younger than you. Your memory went back to your last year sitting at that table with them, and it was as if you’d blinked and they were already old enough to be taking their N.E.W.Ts the upcoming year. You gave a wave to them as they saw you which they returned with a thumbs up.

It seemed as if someone else didn’t give off the same welcoming energy that the rest of the staff and students were giving you. That person was none other than your former head of house, Severus Snape, who was sitting right next to you, rolling his eyes.

He had started teaching when you were in your first year, and it didn’t take long for you as an impressionable student to accept his strict ways of teaching. It wasn’t until your fourth year when you noticed you’d feel different around him than you did with any other teacher which made you realize you were developing a little crush on him that you waited for to go away throughout the rest of your time in school. It never did.

And now, there you were, sitting right next to him, with the same flame within you that caused you to blush.

After Dumbledore was finished making the rest of his announcements, you turned to Snape with a smile on your face.

“Hello Severus, you’ve been a teacher for a while now. Doesn’t it get exciting seeing all these new faces ready to have their minds filled with knowledge? I saw a good number of new additions to our wonderful house during the Sorting Ceremony!”

“It’s Professor Snape to you. And what makes you think I would enjoy having new students to teach?” Even though he turned to you with that same scowl on his face from all those years ago, there was something different about the way he looked at you that you couldn’t put your finger on.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized quickly, a meek smile on your face. “I just thought that… well, you’re a teacher, so… or maybe you see it as having new victims to torture?” You didn’t know why you had rambled on like a fool as the butterflies in your stomach continued to flutter. Having a crush on someone you’re not supposed to can make you do strange things, sometimes without your control it seems.

“The students better hope their new teacher takes her job seriously enough and doesn't treat it as a joking matter.” Snape pointed his sharp features at you which were emphasized by his pale face making you shrink back into your seat.

The more time went on throughout the school year, the more apparent it became that your former teacher hated you no less if not more than he used to. Every wave you gave to him in the corridors was only returned with a scowl, every “hello” with a “go away.” You didn’t understand why he could be so rude to you when you’ve been nothing but kind to him. Hearing rumors that he favored the Slytherins over the other three houses, you thought that he would have treated you with less disdain, but even as a student and teacher, it seemed like he treated you as if he forgot that you shared the same house.

The more you thought about it, you noticed that he used to single you out from the other Slytherins in your school days. You remembered storming out of class in your seventh year one time after he yelled at you for being an “embarrassment” to your house. All you had done was defend a Gryffindor student from the taunts of your fellow housemates. He then had the audacity to complain that you were the one disrupting his class!

Since becoming a teacher, you had in a way used Snape’s mistreatment of you as a motivation to be kind to every student and work with them in a way that was suitable to their needs. You never wanted another student to feel the same way about you that you had towards Snape.

Within a month of school, you had gained a reputation as one of the nicest teachers at Hogwarts, a stark contrast to how everyone else viewed Snape. There were some nosey older students who had taken the liberty of spreading gossip around which included information of how you were once his pupil making the younger students wonder in disbelief of how you turned out nothing like him.

Then there was Snape himself, whom you’d sometimes catch looking in your direction, looking as if he was dazed out, a sight that amused you as someone who had only seen him wear one other expression on his face. It was only when the soft sound of your laughter would hit his ears that he’d snap out of whatever trance he was in, narrowing his black eyes at you silently accusing you of mocking him.

You didn’t understand what was so different about him, what changed since the last time he saw you before you started teaching.

This lead to you becoming more intrigued with him, striking up a conversation with him whenever you were together only to be shut down by his familiar dismissiveness.

It was a Hogsmeade weekend which meant that you were alone in the library with the exception of some studious first and second year students. You had taken advantage of the near emptiness of the library to gather however many books you could fit onto two hands before leaving for your quarters. Thinking about how excited you were to bundle up in your blankets with the books you considered reading to your students, you sprinted through the castle. Maybe you got a little too excited because the next thing you knew you were plumeling face first into a wall of black fabric before the books were knocked out of your hands.

“I should’ve known it was you. Running around like the invasive pest that you are.” You looked up to meet Snape’s eyes for daggers, his taller frame looming over you.

“I’m so sorry, sir.” Your eyes widened as you frantically fidgeted with the skirt of your dress.

“Even after I thought I’d seen the last of you, you return like a persistent weed that has evolved into a thorn in my side.” He used his snarky attitude to ignore your apology.

Something inside of you deflated at the sound of his words, puncturing the previous excitement that was bubbling inside you making you momentarily forget about the books you had to pick up.

“I just thought we could be friends now that we’re coworkers.” You said in a near whisper.

“It might have escaped you when you were that pathetic student, but you can’t force everyone to be your friend.” He was clenching his fists at his sides.

“Why don’t you at least try being nice for once then?!” Hot tears were starting to simmer inside your eyelids, threatening to pour out. You hated how no matter how hard you tried standing up for yourself, you’d cry every time.

“Still weak as ever.” Snape said, eyeing your tears that were now running down your red cheeks.

“I am sick of you always treating me and looking at me like… I’m pathetic and calling me that!” You started to choke on your sobs. “Everyone has been kind to me! I don’t understand why you can’t be too when I’ve always tried being friendly with you, but you’ve been nothing but mean to me!”

“Being a pathetic excuse for a Slytherin doesn’t help.” Snape said loud and clear.

“Being a pathetic excuse for a teacher doesn’t help!” You shouted as loud as the tears would spill out fast. “You act like you know everything and that everyone else is beneath you! Maybe that’s why all the students hate you!”

“Thank you. For bringing my attention to something that is absolutely not new and wasting my time.” Snape said sarcastically, huffing under the layers of black.

“Why do you hate me?” You finally asked the question, a wall of tears clouding your vision.

The next thing you felt was calloused fingers brushing along the soft skin of your wet cheek before a pair of lips landed onto yours.

You were in too much of a shock to dwell on the fact that the man you’ve had a crush on for years was kissing you. You planted your hands against his hard chest as you returned the kiss. You let out a breathy whimper as his tongue traced your bottom lip. Both of you closed your eyes, savoring the moment until it was time to break away unless you wanted to take your last breath in his arms, which you would’ve been happy to.

“Because it infuriates me that I’ve wanted to do that to you every time I’ve looked at you since that day you returned to Hogwarts. You have no idea what you have done to me with those innocent eyes I can’t stop thinking about.” Snape’s voice broke you out of your daydreams before he stormed off without giving you a chance to speak.

You wanted to call out after him as you stood alone, trembling in your dried up tears.

[mariacallous]

As with many a lame-duck president in the past, it feels as if Joe Biden has already left the national stage even though he has a month left in his term.

In his case, that disappearing act is vastly exaggerated by the man who was his predecessor and will be his successor. Donald Trump sucks up every bit of oxygen in the room with his daily outrages – horrifying cabinet choices, transactional friendships with oligarchs, appalling social media posts.

With all the lack of grace we’ve come to expect, he is threatening and bragging his way to inauguration day.

Biden, by contrast, is mostly low-key and taciturn.

One of Barack Obama’s former aides, Jon Lovett, took a sarcastic jab on the Pod Save America podcast: “Joe Biden believes in tradition and institutions, and we should only have one president at a time, and I think it’s a surprising choice to allow it to be Donald Trump.”

Some major news organizations are giving Biden an extra shove into the wings with coverage that emphasizes what we already know: that Biden, at 82, is old and less than vibrant.

A Weary Biden Heads for the Exit, read a headline in the New York Times, with observations, in the newspaper’s own voice, that Biden “looks a little older and a little slower with each passing day”, and that “it is hard to imagine that he seriously thought he could do the world’s most stressful job for another four years.”

The Wall Street Journal reprised its once disparaged and now praised coverage from last spring about the president’s increasing frailty with a story about how staff shored him up and distracted the public and the press: “Aides kept meetings short and controlled access, top advisers acted as go-betweens and public interactions became more scripted.”

But even in this diminished state, and even amid low approval ratings and endless criticism, Biden remains himself to a large extent: decent, optimistic, patriotic and empathetic.

In an extensive video interview published recently by the progressive, independent media organization MeidasTouch Network, Biden sounded cogent and thoughtful as he answered questions from founder Ben Meiselas.

Granted, the interview was non-combative; rather, it was notably tactful and respectful. But it was also substantive, and Biden sounded the familiar notes as he pledged to attend next month’s inauguration and explained why he invited Trump to the White House, despite having often depicted him as a threat to democracy.

“Because it’s who we are as a nation, it’s how we’re supposed to be … ” he said about the peaceful transfer of power. He emphasized his belief in the American people and joked about being what he called “congenitally optimistic”.

I’m not sure I share those rosy views, given the outcome of the election and the way things are unfolding day after day. But that’s vintage Biden.

And as I watched and listened to him answering Meiselas’s questions, I somehow felt nostalgic – yes, nostalgic for a presidency that hasn’t even ended, though it is fading fast.

I couldn’t help but think that – despite all Biden’s well-documented faults and misjudgments (including failing to step away much earlier from the presidential campaign) – this president has done a lot right.

His accomplishments are real, and his decency as a human being is, too.

Some of us, at least, are going to miss him when he’s gone. Even if it seems like that has already happened.

[awkward-imaginations]

| Reunions and Rivalries |

tetsuro kuroo x f!reader

The first time Kuroo saw you was when he noticed you sitting with Kenma, happily playing video games together. He would have been lying if he said he wasn’t surprised when Kenma mentioned he had made a friend on the first day of the new school year. He didn’t share much about you, but Kuroo knew you had just transferred to Nekoma High and somehow you had piqued his interest.

warnings/notes: highschool romance, fluff, slight angst, I do NOT write fanfictions or storys normally, this is a first, so I am generally sorry for everything. CRINGE. def will be cringe in some parts. I'm a big sucker for Kuroo, him and Kenma may be ooc but I don't care this is my silly story and I just need to get it out of my head so I can finally write my Master's Thesis in peace. Also, english is not my first language. This has been "proofread" by my friends (who are also non-native speakers, enjoy).

word count: 2659

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The familiar sound of Karasuno players shouting to each other filled the air as the Tokyo team approached. You walked next to Yaku, chatting casually, when suddenly two familiar figures came sprinting toward you.

“Y/N!” Nishinoya shouted at the top of his lungs, while Sugawara waved enthusiastically from behind him. Before you could even react, Noya wrapped you in a tight hug, nearly knocking poor Yaku off his feet in the process.

“Noya! Suga-Chaaaan~!” you grinned, pulling Sugawara into the hug as well. Noya, now gripping your arm dramatically, suddenly shifted his expression to one of exaggerated misery.

“Y/N!” he whined, pushing you away just enough to meet your eyes, still holding onto your arm. “You have no idea how terrible school is without you. It’s been torture!”

You laughed, playfully pushing at Noya’s shoulder. "Oh, come on, Noya. It can't be that bad."

"It is that bad!" he insisted, throwing his head back in exaggerated despair. "Ever since you transferred, it's like the life has been sucked out of our classroom. I can't even focus on anything anymore!"

Sugawara chuckled, shaking his head at Noya's antics. "I think you just miss having someone to cheat off of during tests."

Noya pouted, clutching his heart as if he’d been gravely wounded. "How could you say that?! I would never cheat! I just… I mean, maybe I miss having Y/N to help me out once in a while, but that's totally different!"

You smirked, crossing your arms. "Uh-huh, totally."

Nishinoya groaned, burying his face in his hands. "You don’t understand! It’s like no one else gets me. The energy in class is so dull now, Y/N! I'm completely doomed."

You rolled your eyes affectionately, patting Noya on the head. "You’re being a bit dramatic, don’t you think?"

"Not dramatic enough!" Noya cried, throwing his arms wide for emphasis. "It's been painful without you. Seriously, how do you survive at that new school? Do they at least let you sleep through class?"

You chuckled. "It’s not so bad, actually. I’ve made some new friends, and I still get plenty of sleep."

Noya looked betrayed, his eyes wide. "New friends? What, and you didn’t miss us at all?"

"Of course I missed you guys!" You reassured, smiling. "But you know, life moves on. Besides, we still get to play Guild Wars together."

„Yeah, nice raid yesterday,” Nishinoya exclaimed, fist bumping you.

Kuroo, watching the scene from a few steps away, furrowed his brow slightly. “So, she's close with the volleyball team at her old school too?” he asked casually, glancing over at Kenma.

“Hm?” Kenma blinked, only half-listening. “Obviously,” he said with a shrug. “Why? You jealous or something?”

Kuroo scoffed, his expression tightening for a moment. “What? No,” he replied, though his gaze drifted back to you, now laughing a bit too hard—at least from his perspective—at something Sugawara said. His jaw clenched involuntarily.

“You sure?” Kenma muttered, still not looking up. “Because it kind of seems like you are.”

“I’m not,” Kuroo grumbled, crossing his arms defensively. “Why would I be—”

His words trailed off as Daichi approached you, a calm but warm smile on his face. He greeted you with a firm hug, his arms wrapping around you in a way that spoke of years of friendship. “It’s been too long, Y/N,” Daichi said, his voice soft. “It’s a nice surprise you’re here.”

You smiled, your face lighting up. “It feels like ages.”

Kuroo watched the exchange, feeling his heart sink just a bit. Daichi’s hug wasn’t overly affectionate, but there was a sense of familiarity between you two that stirred envy in him. He tried to brush it off, forcing a smile, though it felt stiff on his face.

“The third years used to be in the same class as her brother since Kindergarten,” Kenma said quietly, as if reading Kuroo’s thoughts. “They’ve known each other for a long time.”

Kuroo exhaled, rolling his eyes, though the slight tension in his shoulders didn’t ease. “Great. Old friends,” he muttered, his smile feeling more and more strained.

Kenma smirked. “You’re terrible at hiding your feelings.”

"Wait… she has a brother?" Kuroo asked, his tone sharper than he intended.

Kenma gave him a surprised look. "You didn’t know? Yeah, L/N Ryouta—he goes to Nekoma too."

Kuroo’s mind raced. "L/N Ryouta? I don’t think I’ve met him."

Kenma shook his head. "Probably not. You’re in the university prep class, and he’s in regular courses. Still, kind of strange she didn’t mention him during one of your study dates."

Kuroo’s lips tugged into a slight frown. "We’re studying, not chatting." The fact that you had a brother he didn’t know about made him feel a little out of the loop. He didn’t like it.

Kenma shrugged. "It makes sense she'd be close with them. They’ve been hanging out since she was little."

Kuroo watched you laugh with Daichi and Sugawara, Noya had left you to help Tanaka “protect” Shimizu. You clearly had a lot of history with these guys. The way they greeted you, how easily you fit into their circle—it was obvious you were used to attention from boys. It bothered him more than he cared to admit.

Just as he was about to look away, you caught his eye and waved, your smile brightening. For a split second, you seemed to hesitate, a faint blush coloring your cheeks as if you hadn’t expected him to be watching. Kuroo smirked, feeling a little more at ease now.

Daichi, noticing your reaction, raised an eyebrow. "Who's that?" he asked, his tone casual but curious.

You turned back to Daichi, still smiling. "Oh, that’s Kuroo, Nekoma’s captain. You should probably go introduce yourself."

Daichi nodded, though his expression became a little more guarded. "Right. I’ll go say hi."

As Daichi walked over, Kuroo straightened up, masking his emotions behind his usual confident grin. Daichi extended his hand, his smile polite but strained. "Daichi Sawamura, captain of Karasuno."

Kuroo grasped Daichi’s hand, matching his too-firm grip with one of his own. "Tetsurou Kuroo. Captain of Nekoma."

Both captains forced smiles, but in the back of their minds, they had the same thought: I don’t like this guy.

“So… you’re not their manager?” Sugawara asked, giving you a playful nudge as he leaned against the wall next to you in the gym, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Nope,” you chuckled. "I’m just here for moral support.”

Sugawara laughed. “Then I can support you supporting. We've got a cracking new setter, so I'll probably be on the bench the whole time.”

There was an ease between you and Sugawara that came with familiarity. You caught up on everything—school, mutual friends, and volleyball, of course. Time slipped away as the two of you talked, oblivious to anything else happening on the court.

Except someone was paying attention.

From across the gym, Kuroo’s gaze flickered toward you more than once. He tried to brush it off, but the more you laughed with Sugawara, the harder it was to ignore the twist in his chest.

“Oi, Kuro,” Kenma muttered, not even looking at him as he noticed the subtle tension radiating off his captain. “What’s up with you?”

Kuroo blinked, dragging his gaze back to the court just in time to see one of Karasuno's players miss a spike. “What do you mean? Nothing's up.”

Kenma sighed. “You’ve been staring over there for the last ten minutes. You’re distracted.”

“Distracted?” Kuroo scoffed, though his eyes flicked once again in your direction—watching as Sugawara leaned in to say something that made you laugh. Why does he get to make you laugh like that? Kuroo felt his jaw tighten. “I’m not distracted. Just… keeping an eye on the competition. You know, strategy.”

Kenma raised an eyebrow. “Sugawara isn’t even playing.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes, “You mean Suga-Chaaan~,” he mocked your greeting only to feign indifference afterwards. “I’m not watching him. Why would I care about some third year who isn’t even in starting lineup?”

Kenma looked at him blankly for a moment before shrugging. “I don’t know. Why would you care?”

“I don’t,” Kuroo huffed. “As I already said, it’s not like I’m jealous or anything.”

Kenma eyes flicked toward Sugawara, then back to Kuroo. “I didn’t say you were.”

“I’m not,” Kuroo added, a little too quickly. “I mean—”

“Kuro,” Kenma interrupted, his deadpan expression growing sharper.

“I—" Kuroo hesitated, suddenly aware of how ridiculous he sounded. “I’m just looking out for her.”

Kenma’s lips twitched into the slightest hint of a smirk. “Sure.”

Across the court, Sugawara was finishing a story, his eyes twinkling as he spoke. You laughed, leaning in a little closer. Kuroo’s eye twitched.

“It’s not like they’re flirting,” Kuroo mumbled under his breath, though his voice lacked conviction.

“What was that?” Kenma asked, not bothering to look away from the ball on their side.

“Nothing!” Kuroo snapped, a little too loud, drawing some curious glances from nearby players.

You and Sugawara, still chatting, were blissfully unaware of Kuroo’s growing frustration. Every time Sugawara made you laugh, it felt like a small jab, not because he disliked Sugawara, but because… well, he wasn’t entirely sure why. Or at least, he wasn’t willing to admit it yet.

The match was in full swing, as Shimizu joined you and Sugawara at the side, observing as the teams went back and forth on the court. You’d fallen into an easy rhythm with Sugawara, catching up and making jokes, but now that Shimizu had joined you, the conversation was a bit more reserved.

After a moment of comfortable silence, Shimizu turned toward you. “You’re not their manager, yet you’re wearing their jersey,” she remarked softly, her eyes following the ball.

“Yeah, it actually belongs to Kenma, we're about the same size, thought it would boost the team spirit” you replied, smiling fondly.

Shimizu nodded thoughtfully, glancing between you and Kenma on the court. “He seems to enjoy your company.”

You blinked, catching the subtle implication in her tone. “Wait, do you mean…?” You hesitated, feeling a slight blush creep up your neck. “You think I like Kenma?”

Sugawara, who had been listening in with a bemused expression, chuckled under his breath. “Oh no, Shimizu,” he said, shaking his head, “you’re way off.”

Shimizu tilted her head slightly, giving Sugawara a questioning look. “Really? I thought—”

Sugawara waved her off with a smile, clearly amused. “Trust me, I’ve known Y/N for a long time. She doesn’t go for the quiet, brooding type.”

You narrowed your eyes at Sugawara, half-embarrassed. “Hey, I can like quiet guys,” you defended, though it came out more as a weak protest than anything else.

Sugawara gave you a teasing smirk. “Maybe, but not that quiet.” He leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Kenma’s great and all, but your type’s always been more… I don’t know, bad boy. The kind of guy who’s a little rough around the edges, gets under your skin.”

Shimizu blinked, her curiosity piqued. “Bad boy…?” she repeated thoughtfully, then her gaze drifted toward the court where Coach Ukai stood, arms crossed, observing the match with his intense focus. She nodded in his direction. “Ah. You mean someone like Ukai?”

You nearly choked, waving your hands in protest. “What? No way! He’s… hot, sure, but he’s way too old!”

Sugawara burst out laughing, and even Shimizu’s usually calm expression cracked into a smile.

“Nah, I wasn’t talking about Ukai,” Sugawara chuckled, nudging you playfully. “I had someone more… age-appropriate in mind.” He pointed subtly across the court to where Kuroo was setting up for a block, his sharp gaze focused on the game, his usual smug grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “I was thinking more along the lines of that bad boy.”

You froze, suddenly feeling like all the air had been knocked out of your lungs. “Kuroo?” You hadn’t even realized it, but the moment Sugawara mentioned it, something clicked inside you—like a light had been switched on.

Sugawara’s grin widened as he saw the realization dawning on your face. “There it is,” he said, his voice smug but not unkind. “Ryouta told me you just can’t shut up about him.”

You could feel the blush deepening, the heat spreading up to your cheeks. “I… I don’t…” you stammered, not quite sure how to deny it now that it was out in the open.

Shimizu watched you carefully, her quiet gaze perceptive. “So, it is Kuroo?” she asked softly, her voice neutral as ever, though there was a trace of curiosity.

You glanced at her, feeling a little trapped but knowing you couldn’t lie, especially not with Sugawara there, reading you like an open book. You sighed, defeated, and ran a hand through your hair. “Okay, fine,” you muttered, embarrassed but kind of relieved to admit it. “Yeah… I think I like Kuroo.”

Sugawara looked like he’d just won a game. “I knew it,” he said triumphantly. “I could tell from the beginning.”

Shimizu gave a small nod, her expression thoughtful. “He does seem like someone you’d get along with,” she said quietly.

“Well…” you began slowly, a shy smile creeping onto your face, “he is pretty great. He’s been really nice to me, even when he’s annoying.”

Shimizu gave you a small, knowing smile.

Sugawara’s grin softened a bit, turning more genuine. “Sounds like you’re smitten.”

You shot him a playful glare. “Don’t make it sound so cheesy.”

He chuckled. “Hey, no judgment here. I’m just glad you finally realized it.”

You groaned, half embarrassed but secretly hopeful. “Great, now I’m going to be overanalyzing everything he says to me.”

Sugawara laughed, clapping you on the shoulder. “That’s part of the fun. Just keep me updated.”

Later that night, the team piled into the bus, the soft hum of the engine filling the silence as the Nekoma players settled into their seats. You slid into a spot next to Kenma, Kuroo sitting in the row just ahead, his head tilted back against the seat.

As the bus started to roll down the road, you pulled out some flyers Sugawara had given you earlier and turned to Kenma and Kuroo. "Hey, by the way, Sugawara invited me to a festival nearby. His and my brother’s band, Secondhand Youth, is opening." You held out the flyer so they could see. "You guys listen to pop-punk, right?"

Kenma glanced up from his DS, raising an eyebrow, but before he could say anything, Kuroo replied a little too quickly, "Sure!" His voice was overly enthusiastic, and his eyes darted to you for a reaction.

Kenma blinked, clearly unimpressed. He gave Kuroo a sideways look, stifling a smirk as he mimicked, "Sure." His tone was flat, dripping with sarcasm.

You snorted, trying to hide a laugh, but Kuroo shot Kenma a mock glare. “What? It’s not like I don’t listen to it.”

Kenma couldn’t resist. “Name one band.” He leaned his chin on his hand, watching Kuroo with a blank stare, knowing full well his friend didn’t have a clue.

Kuroo paused, clearly stumped, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for a band name. “Well, Secondhand Youth, obviously.” You couldn’t help but giggle, and Kuroo turned to you, his expression a mix of mild panic and frustration.

"Okay, fine, maybe I’m not a huge fan," Kuroo admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, "but I’d still go. For the experience, you know?"

Kenma rolled his eyes but kept a small smile on his lips. “Yeah, the experience of pretending to like music you’ve never heard of.”

You nudged Kuroo’s seat playfully from behind, your smile softening. "You don’t have to, Kuroo. But… you’re welcome to come, if you want."

Kuroo’s eyes met yours, his expression softening as well. “Nah, I wanna go,” he said, his voice sincere this time. “Could be fun.”

Kenma returned to his game, though he couldn’t hide the amusement in his eyes as he watched you and Kuroo interact.