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seungkw1 · 12 days ago

Text

don’t you want me, baby? — yjh [SIDE A]

🎧 spotify playlist

🖭 pairing: yoon jeonghan x fem!reader 🖭 theme: 80s au, romance, humor 🖭 wc: 12.5k 🖭 warnings: part 1: smoking (brief), underage drinking, mildly suggestive, 95z are idiots (lovingly); part 2: smut 🖭 a/n: this fic parallels a mixtape and takes place over the course of most of reader’s life - Side A (this part) is childhood through high school and Side B (part 2) will be through college. the names of the chapters correspond to the playlist linked above, make sure to check it out :) shoutout to @lovetaroandtaemin and @miniseokminnies for beta reading <3 // this was written for the @camandemstudios Lonely Hearts Cafe collab! check out the full masterlist here!!

You've known Jeonghan nearly your whole life. At first, he was just the annoying kid who lived down the street, but eventually you became part of the same friend group. You date his best friend for a bit, but when that relationship ends, you begin to spend more time with him - one-on-one. Soon, you start to realize that there might be more to your relationship with Jeonghan than you initially thought.

TRACKLIST: SIDE A Track 01: Don’t You Want Me – The Human League Track 02: Jessie’s Girl – Rick Springfield Track 03: Take on Me – a-ha Track 04: What I Like About You – The Romantics Track 05: Tainted Love – Soft Cell SIDE B Track 06: The Boys Of Summer – Don Henley Track 07: Don’t You (Forget About Me) – Simple Minds Track 08: Everybody Wants To Rule The World – Tears for Fears Track 09: Let’s Dance – David Bowie Track 10: Can’t Fight This Feeling – REO Speedwagon Track 11: You Make My Dreams (Come True) – Daryll Hall & John Oates

🖭 Track 01: Don’t You Want Me – The Human League

🎶 You know I don't believe you when you say that you don't need me

[1973, Spring - Third Grade]

“Y/n!”

You turn at the sound of your name. It’s your annoying neighbor and classmate, Jeonghan, chasing you down as you walk home. You had both just gotten off the school bus - he lives on the same street as you, just a few doors down. Unfortunate. As if seeing him all day in class wasn’t bad enough. You’re already past his house, but now it appears he’s following you to yours. You turn back around and continue down the sidewalk, choosing to ignore him - but he’s persistent.

“Hey y/n!! Wait up!”

You pick up your pace, but the sound of his sneakers smacking against the concrete gets louder as he runs after you, quickly catching up. You yelp as he yanks you by the handle of your backpack, sending you flying backwards. You crash into him, knocking the both of you to the ground.

“Ow! What the hell, Jeonghan!!” you shout as you scramble to get off of him. You roll to the side, lightly scraping your knees as you catch yourself. It hurts, but at the moment you have a bigger problem to deal with.

“You can’t say H-E-double hockey sticks, that’s a BAD WORD!” he yells back, trying to get up off the ground, but with a swift push of your foot you knock him back down.

“Hey, no fair!!” he squeaks at you, wiggling away as he jumps back to his feet. “I’m telling my mom!”

“What are you gonna tell her, that you got beat up by a girl?” you taunt. He opens his mouth to argue back, but he realizes you’re right. Scowling, he sticks his tongue out and blows a raspberry at you, before turning around and running off back to his own house. Annoyed, you brush the dirt off your knees and head home.

Stupid boys, you think to yourself. I am NEVER EVER going to kiss one.

[1978, Fall - Eighth Grade]

The crisp autumn breeze rushes through your hair as you vigorously pedal your three-speed bicycle uphill. As you reach the hilltop, the image of the town unfolds before you: you see the arcade, the pharmacy, various shops and newspaper stands - but most importantly, your destination: the movie theater. You swing your feet out as you drift over the peak, releasing the pedals, letting gravity take over as you plummet downhill as fast as a rocket. As you near the theater, you apply the brakes, slowing yourself to a more reasonable pace as you ride up onto the sidewalk. Outside the entrance sits your best friend, Valerie; she looks up as you approach, giving you a friendly wave.

“Finally, there you are,” she tells you with a grin as you hop off your bike and park it at the rack. “Let's go get our tickets.”

You start walking toward the ticket booth together, when a familiar voice calls out from behind you.

“Valerie! Y/n!”

You turn around, spotting a group of boys hanging out in the alley - it's your classmates, Joshua, Seungcheol, and Jeonghan. You frown, glancing sideways at Valerie, but she's already skipping over toward them. You don't particularly care for these three, but it's no secret that she has a huge crush on Seungcheol. Reluctantly, you follow.

“Hi boys,” she says as you two approach the alleyway, practically batting her eyelashes at Cheol. “What are you all doing here?”

Joshua beckons to the both of you with a mischievous grin on his face. “Come over here, look what Jeonghan’s got.”

As you step into the alley, Jeonghan reaches into his pocket. With a smirk, he pulls out a very crushed box of Marlboros. He opens the flap to reveal two cigarettes inside; he takes one out, holding the filter awkwardly between his forefinger and thumb.

“Stole these from my dad,” he informs you proudly. You stare dully back at him, unamused.

“Gimme the lighter,” he says to Joshua, holding his free hand out demandingly. Joshua reaches into the breast pocket of his jean jacket, retrieving a worn silver zippo and setting it in Jeonghan’s open palm. He flicks the lid open with his thumb as he places the cigarette to his lips. Snapping the wheel, the lighter ignites - but is immediately extinguished by a gust of cold wind.

“You have to put your hand over it, dipshit,” Seungcheol says as he tries to snatch the zippo, but Jeonghan quickly blocks him with his elbow.

“Ouch!” Cheol whines.

“Shut up, I got this,” Jeonghan gripes, flicking the lighter open again. He raises the flame to the unlit end, this time blocking the wind with his other hand. The paper catches, glowing orange as he inhales - taking far too long of a drag. A coughing fit hits him, turning away as his poor unprepared lungs try to expel the smoke. Cheol rolls his eyes.

“Gimme that,” he snaps as he whisks the cigarette from Jeonghan’s fingers. He places it to his lips, taking a far more careful drag than Jeonghan did, but it’s still too much. With a harsh cough, he quickly rids himself of the cigarette by shoving it into Joshua’s hands. Unbothered by his friends’ current state, he pretends to take a drag, exhaling nothing as he shakes his head at the other two coughing boys.

“You guys are stupid,” he scorns. He turns, offering the cig to you and Valerie. Val stares at Cheol and Jeonghan, still coughing, a mildly disgusted expression on her face.

“No, thank you,” she tells him, waving her hand in dismissal of the cigarette. Joshua shrugs, pretending to take another drag, but this time he accidentally inhales. He tries to stifle the cough that hits him this time, to no avail. With a grimace, he tosses the half-burnt cigarette to the ground, extinguishing it with a few stomps.

“So,” Seungcheol says as he rejoins the group, dragging Jeonghan by the arm, pretending like he didn’t just completely embarrass himself. “What movie are you guys going to see?”

“We’re seeing Grease,” you answer, causing the boys to snicker.

“Lame,” Joshua replies. You shoot a glare back at him.

“We’re seeing Halloween,” he continues. “But I guess that movie isn’t for girls.”

“Oh, please,” Valerie scoffs. “Girls can see any movie that boys can.”

“Yeah right,” Cheol taunts her. “It’s too scary, you would run away crying.”

“Nuh-uh!” Valerie exclaims, stamping her foot into the ground. “We’re no scaredy cats.”

“Prove it,” Jeonghan says smugly. “Come see Halloween with us.”

“We don’t want to see Halloween,” you reject. “We want to see Grease.”

“Okay, scaredy cat. I double-dog dare you.”

“We’ll do it,” Valerie answers Jeonghan before you can say another word. You turn, giving her a frown, but she’s too immersed in gazing at Cheol to notice your disapproval.

“Alright!” Seungcheol bursts out, punching his fist in the air. “Last one there’s a rotten egg!”

The three boys take off, racing back to the main street toward the theater. Valerie starts to follow them, but you tug on her arm.

“Do you really want to see Halloween?” you question - but you already know the answer.

“No,” she admits, crossing her arms and looking down at the ground. “But I want Seungcheol to like me. And I don’t think he’ll ever ask me out if I chicken out now.”

You don’t think that’s true, but you also don’t really want to get into the inner workings of how teenage boys operate right now.

“Alright,” you concede, linking your arm with hers as you head toward the theater. “Besides, it can’t be that scary, right?”

It was, in fact, that scary.

You’re deeply embarrassed, but so are the boys. You may have screamed and cried for most of the movie, but they were no better. Jeonghan flew out of his seat with every jumpscare, Seungcheol was on the floor hiding for half of it, and Joshua was pretending not to be scared, but he had his eyes shut tight the whole time. Valerie was just as scared as you were, but her plan to catch Seungcheol’s eye was apparently successful. They walked out of the theater side by side, giggling together. You don’t bother hiding your displeasure, walking behind them grimacing at the back of Seungcheol’s dumb head. Joshua departs from the group, taking off running in the direction of his house without a word. Now with no one else to bug, Jeonghan makes his way over to you.

“That was awesome, huh?” he says with a stupid grin you wish you could slap off his face.

“Right, that’s why you cried four times.” You catch the sight of Joshua’s back in the distance - he’s two blocks away now and still running at top speed.

“Did not! It was only three.”

“Whatever,” you remark, still distracted by a sprinting Joshua. He turns the corner onto his street, out of your line of sight. You focus your attention back to Jeonghan, who is now startlingly close to you. You’re a good two inches taller than him, so he has to look up at you - and the look he has on his face now makes you nervous.

“So,” he starts, nudging his elbow into your arm. “Wanna go grab a soda?”

You stare at him, blindsided by his sudden change of attitude towards you. Where did this come from?

“What?”

“Do you want to go grab a soda with me?” he repeats.

“No, I heard you,” you tell him with a puzzled look on your face. “I mean, are you asking me out?”

“Yeah,” Jeonghan nods coolly. “I am. Figured it was about time.”

“About time?? What exactly does that mean?”

“Come on, y/n,” he tells you, the stupid grin back on his face. “Everybody knows you like me.”

You stop in your tracks. Jeonghan turns back, facing you to see you stare at him incredulously.

“I do NOT ‘like you’. Not like that!” you snap, thoroughly annoyed. He smirks at your denial, irritating you further. “In fact,” you add, “I barely even like you at all.”

He chuckles, clearly not planning to believe you.

“Sure, whatever you say. Anyway, how about that soda?”

“You’re insufferable,” you retort with a glare before walking off.

“So is that a no?” you hear him ask behind you, but you ignore it. You head toward your parked bike, now sitting alone in the rack as Valerie and Cheol are nowhere to be seen. With a sigh you hoist your leg over the seat, ready to get the hell out of there. You take off, noticing Jeonghan still standing where you left him, watching you with a curious look on his face. He looks almost… sad? That can’t be right. For a moment you pause, wondering if you actually hurt his feelings. But then he winks at you, his lips curling back into that pretentious smirk. With an eye roll you pedal off into the street, your cheeks stinging once more as you ride into the cold wind.

What a lousy day, you think to yourself. If you never saw Jeonghan or his dumb friends again, it would be too soon.

🖭 Track 02: Jessie’s Girl – Rick Springfield

🎶 I wanna tell her that I love her, but the point is probably moot

[1982, Fall - Junior Year]

riiiiiiiiiiiiiing

Your head snaps up as the harsh bell resonates from the hallway. You squint your eyes closed again as the classroom lights are suddenly turned on, signalling the end to the school day and the end to whatever boring video your chemistry teacher had decided to play instead of teaching today. Stifling a yawn, you toss your books into your backpack and swing it over your shoulder as you sluggishly traipse out the classroom door. The buzzing hallways quickly wake you up, filled with chatter and commotion as students flock to their lockers and out the doors. You locate your own locker, mindlessly spinning the combination lock until the door opens with a clunk. You rummage through your belongings, grabbing the notebooks and textbooks you need for homework tonight. As you swing the door closed, a face materializes inches away from you.

“Shit!” you jump, before registering the face’s owner as your boyfriend, Joshua. You give him a swift shove - he dramatically pretends to fall against the wall of lockers. You roll your eyes as you start to walk away. Joshua quickly catches up, wrapping one arm around your shoulders as you exit the building.

“So,” he starts, grinning in a way that makes you immediately suspicious. “I had an idea.”

“Oh god,” you groan. “What is it now?”

“Aw come on, you never like my ideas,” he pouts.

“Yeah, because they’re always crazy.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Last time you had a grand idea, Seungcheol had to go to the hospital to get stitches, and we got escorted home in a cop car,” you remind him. “I was grounded for weeks.”

“How was I supposed to know that construction site was off-limits?” he asks with feigned ignorance. You raise your eyebrow at him, unamused.

“Probably by the signs everywhere that said ‘DO NOT ENTER’.”

He shrugs it off. “Okay, you got me there. But I promise this time it’s nothing crazy.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“So, are you game?”

“Maybe,” you answer. “If you actually tell me what it is first.” He grins, the mischievous look on his face making you skeptical already.

“Just a small party. Jeonghan’s parents are out of town, so we’re gonna hang there.”

“And who’s all going?”

“Me, Cheol, Hannie obviously, Soonyoung… ya know, the usual suspects,” he replies. “Bring Val and anyone else who’s cool.”

“Alright, fine” you sigh. His face instantly lights up.

“Awesome! Party starts at 8:30.”

You stop walking, clutching onto his arm and turning him to face you.

“You promise it won’t get out of hand?”

He takes your hands in his, nodding earnestly.

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Well that seems a little dramatic,” you pretend to scoff, but a smile peeks through. He grins back, giving you a quick peck on the cheek.

“See you there, then.”

“Truth.”

Val focuses on Joshua, waiting for his question. You think truth or dare is a stupid game, juvenile at best, but everybody always seems to want to play.

“Okay,” he replies to her smugly. “Who was your first kiss?”

Panic flashes through her eyes for a brief moment, but she plays it cool. You know her answer, and you know why she wouldn’t want to share. She pauses, pursing her lips, but Joshua is impatient.

“Come on, don’t be shy,” he taunts. Her eyes flicker around the room, glancing at Cheol, then at you, then back at Cheol.

“It’s okay babe, you can say it. I don’t mind,” Cheol assures her, lying.

You spot Soonyoung quietly getting up, ostensibly to grab another pop. Val sees him too, narrowing her eyes at his back.

“Fine,” she admits. “It was Soonyoung.”

“WHAT?!” Jeonghan exclaims, nearly doing a spit-take with his cup of Sprite.

“No way,” Joshua responds, smirking as he glances at Seungcheol, whose face is quickly turning cherry-red. He bites his lip, attempting to remain nonchalant - to no avail. Val inadvertently giggles at him, immediately clasping her hand over her mouth. Cheol glares at Soonyoung, who is halfway to the kitchen, giving a solid huff before he flies out of his seat - Soonyoung sees him and flees, but Cheol is faster. He tackles his friend through the doorway, followed by the sounds of several objects clanking against the floor.

“Hey!” Jeonghan yells after them. “Don’t trash the place you idiots!!” He saunters after them, making sure the two don’t actually break anything - household objects nor bones. As he disappears into the kitchen the doorbell rings.

“Are you expecting more people?” you ask, glancing at Joshua.

“Oh yeah I invited Mark - you know, from the basketball team,” he replies. “It’s probably him. Wanna get it, Val?”

“Not really,” she responds, staring dully at him. “But sure, I guess.”

She gets up and heads to answer the door, leaving you and Joshua alone in the living room. A big goofy grin spreads across his face as he slides over toward you, cornering you against the arm of the couch as he wraps his arm around your waist.

“Finally, a moment of peace,” he tells you as he draws your face in close. A loud bang resonates from the kitchen.

“You know Seungcheol is kicking Soonyoung’s ass in the other room right now, right?”

“Eh, they’re fine.”

He presses his lips softly against yours, pulling your body in close and resting his hand upon your thigh. You kiss him back, butterflies in your stomach as you savor the rare moment of alone time with your boyfriend.

“Ahem.”

You jump, breaking this kiss to see Jeonghan standing in the doorway.

“If you must do that, get a room, will you?” he asks, clearly irked. You feel your face grow hot.

“Sorry,” you mumble. Joshua opens his mouth, ready to tell his friend off, but he’s interrupted by the newcomers entering the living room. You recognize Mark, but it appears he brought the entire basketball team with him - a large string of boys wander into the room, the sound of “Eye of the Tiger” filling the air as a particularly tall one carries in a boombox on his shoulder. Soonyoung and Seungcheol stumble back in, hair and clothes tussled, pretending like nothing just happened.

“Hey Mingi!” Soonyoung shouts gleefully to the tall boombox boy. “Turn that shit up!”

You cast a nervous glance at Joshua. “I didn’t think there would be this many people here,” you tell him.

“Relax, y/n, it’s okay,” he says with his usual cheery smile on his face. He gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before hopping off the couch to greet the entourage.

You look around for Val, but she appears to have disappeared, probably off somewhere with Cheol. Soonyoung and Joshua are engaged in a passionate debate about who would win in a fight between Indiana Jones and E.T., for some reason. Aside from Mark, you don’t really know anybody on the basketball team, but he’s in the middle of an arm wrestling match anyway. Once again, you have nobody to talk to. Why does this always happen to me, you mope to yourself. Sighing, you stand up and make your way to the kitchen in search of another Coke. Any excuse to leave the room that is growing more chaotic by the moment.

The chatter and shouting is still audible from the kitchen, but it’s certainly much quieter. You head to the fridge, spotting Jeonghan already there. He notices you, turning his head and giving you a nod.

“Hey, y/n.”

“Hay is for horses,” you reply. He raises his brow at you, letting out a small laugh. He grabs a Coke from the fridge and hands it to you.

“Oh, thanks.” The can lets out a crisp hissss as you pop the tab.

“I didn’t know so many people would be coming,” you remark as you take a sip.

“Me neither,” he says with a concerned frown, glancing toward the noisy living room full of teenagers. A loud crashing noise echoes from amidst the crowd of people, followed by Soonyoung whooping loudly.

“Oh god,” Jeonghan grumbles. “I’m gonna be so grounded.”

“You should tell them to tone it down,” you suggest. “It’s your house after all.”

“No way,” he says as he shakes his head. “They’re gonna think I’m so lame.”

“Who cares?” you tell him.

He opens his mouth to reply, but is interrupted by an eruption of cheering. He wanders over to the doorway, peering out to see what the commotion is; you follow. There are even more people here than there were before, the living room now filled with even more jocks and a group of preps - all seniors - who appear to have brought several cases of beer.

“Shit,” Jeonghan mumbles under his breath, staring nervously at the crowd of high schoolers passing red solo cups filled with alcohol around the room.

“What are you going to do?” you ask, turning to look at him. He’s standing much closer to you than you realized, but with you both in the doorway you don’t have much room to back up without it being obvious. You notice for the first time that he has really long eyelashes, framing his eyes as they shift nervously around the chaotic scene.

One of the preppy girls bounces over to you two, holding out two cups of beer.

“Rad party, Jeonghan,” she smiles at him, handing him one of the drinks. To your surprise, he takes it. She turns to give the other drink to you, pausing to quickly look you up and down.

“And what’s your name again?”

“Y/n,” you tell her bluntly, not doing much to hide your annoyance at her attitude.

“Riiight,” she replies, her fake smile dropping. She gives up on trying to hand you the beer and turns back to Jeonghan, raising her cup to his before she takes a drink. Hesitantly, he raises the cup to his lips and takes a sip, trying his best not to make a face at the bitter taste. She stares at him for a moment before deciding that he is too lame for her. She gives him a soft “hm” of disapproval, and with a flip of her hair she turns and heads back to her snooty friends. Jeonghan looks like he wants to crawl into a hole and die. He takes another swig of the beer, making another face as he stares into the pale yellow liquid in his cup.

“Are you really going to drink that?” you ask. He shrugs, still staring at the rowdy crowd of people in his parent’s living room.

“It’s fine,” he mumbles. “This is making me feel like I need a drink anyway.”

“Okay…” you reply skeptically. “Just be careful.”

He turns, making eye contact with you. He looks like he wants to say something, but he changes his mind.

“Yeah, I will,” he sighs.

You spend the rest of the night dodging people trying to give you beer. Joshua gets mildly drunk, coming to find you a few times to make sure you’re okay, but eventually he gets sucked into a heated and seemingly endless game of Uno. The party progresses more or less without issue - that is, until there is no more beer.

“Hey Yoon, you gonna bust out your parents’ alcohol stash for us or what?” one of the inebriated meathead jocks hollers across the room to Jeonghan, who is in the middle of putting on a new record. Fear flashes across his face.

“Yeah, break out the booze!” the mean girl from earlier shouts.

His eyes dart around the room, panickedly looking for one of his friends; his eyes land on you, silently begging you to help him. Not knowing what to do, you give him a solid nod before running off to find Seungcheol. If these drunk morons are going to listen to anyone, it’ll be him. You eventually find him off in a corner making out with Val.

“Hey,” you blurt out. Cheol turns to you, prepared to be mad at you for interrupting their makeout sesh, but he sees the concerned look on your face.

“What is it?” he asks sincerely.

“We have a problem.”

You frantically start to explain, but he quickly picks up the issue. He storms back toward the living room; you and Val follow, peeking around the corner.

“Alright, party’s over,” his voice booms through the room of drunken teens. The crowd starts to boo him.

“Come on Choi, don’t be a square,” one of the jocks shouts back at him.

“GET THE FUCK OUT!!!,” he screams. “NOW!!!!!!”

Begrudged murmurs ripple through the crowd, but everyone slowly begins to shuffle out.

“And none of you better be fucking driving!!” he adds.

He herds the last of the partygoers out, locking the door behind them. Joshua, having laid on the couch just a moment ago, is somehow already fast asleep. Jeonghan stares at him for a moment before settling for sitting on the floor, his back resting against the couch. He runs his hand through this hair, staring at the mess left behind by nearly half the school: solo cups littered around the room, empty cans carelessly tossed aside, spilled beer puddled upon every surface. And judging by the sour stench starting to reek, it’s soaked into the carpet too.

“This was a stupid idea,” he mumbles, holding his head in his hands.

“It’s not your fault,” you assure him, taking a seat on the floor next to him. “It wasn’t supposed to get this out of hand.”

“I should’ve known, though.” He sighs, letting out a disheartened laugh. “Things always go wrong for me.”

“What do you mean?”

He looks at you for a moment, but his gaze falls back to his shoes.

“I dunno, every time Joshua does something crazy it works out fine for him.” He nudges his head toward his sleeping friend on the couch above. “But when I try to have fun I always get in trouble.”

“Well, Joshua’s an idiot.”

“I heard that…” Joshua murmurs from the couch, before turning over and falling back asleep. An amused smile appears on Jeonghan’s face for a moment.

“Anyway, we’ll clean everything up,” you tell him. “It’ll be alright. It won’t take too long between the five of us - well, four. Actually… Where the hell is Soonyoung?” you ask Seungcheol as he walks back into the room.

“In the bathroom. With his head in the toilet.”

“Lovely. How much did he drink??”

“One beer.”

Jeonghan snorts. “How embarrassing.”

You chuckle under your breath. Jeonghan suddenly rises to his feet; you follow suit.

“What should we listen to while we clean?” he asks, heading over to the record player.

“How about AC/DC? ‘Have a Drink on Me’?,” you suggest. Jeonghan shoots you a look out of the corner of his eye, making Cheol giggle.

“No? Maybe some Judas Priest? ‘Breaking the Law’?”

He narrows his eyes at you, pretending to be irked, but the corners of his mouth twitch into a slight smile.

“How about no,” he retorts. Turning back to the stack of records, he pulls out a purple album. “Here, this should be good.”

He spins the vinyl in his hands before setting it on the turntable. He moves the needle into place - heavy synth notes fill the air as the familiar track begins, making you grin. Jeonghan disappears into the kitchen for a moment, returning with several trash bags and a roll of paper towels. He hands you a bag, then tosses the roll to Seungcheol.

“Right, well, let’s get to work.”

The sound of Prince singing ‘We’re gonna party like it’s 1999' plays as you start collecting the plethora of empty cans strewn about seemingly the entire house, Jeonghan joining you. You think it would be more efficient if he started on the other side of the room, instead of following behind you, but you keep it to yourself. Val makes a reappearance, looking only slightly queasy; she joins her boyfriend in wiping away the spilled drinks. You glance at your own boyfriend again, asleep on the couch still - and now snoring lightly. You let out a sigh that you don’t mean to be audible, but Jeonghan picks up on it.

“You okay?” he asks you sincerely.

You pause for a moment. Are you okay?? It's a question you've been asking yourself a lot recently. You do love Joshua, and even outside of dating him, he is a good friend. But, something has felt different lately - you can't quite put your finger on it, but things just haven't been the same. You feel a lump welling in the back of your throat, threatening tears. Now is not the time to overthink about your relationship - you decide to swallow your words before you get emotional.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you lie, hoping he won’t prod further. He pauses, waiting in case you change your mind, but you go back to picking up cans in silence.

“Y/n,” he starts. His voice is soft, hesitant. You turn back to face him - you can tell there’s something on the tip of his tongue, something he’s nervous to say.

“What is it?” you ask. He licks his lips, debating whether to tell you. With a deep exhale, he quickly shakes his head.

“There’s a can in that plant right next to you,” he says, pointing to the large potted palm. “Wasn’t sure if you saw it.”

You peek through the leaves - sure enough, a crushed Coors can lay crumpled atop the soil.

“Oh, thanks.” You pick it up and toss it in the trash bag, it landing upon the others with an unpleasant clanking sound. Over your shoulder you see Jeonghan still looking at you - you turn to look at him again, but he quickly occupies himself with the trash. He’s acting a bit odd, but you brush it off - he has had a shitty night, after all. You make your way across the room, joining Val as she sops up beer off the fine china cabinet. Still feeling eyes on your back, you glance toward Jeonghan, who is still looking at you, the expression on his face indecipherable. His focus on you is broken by Seungcheol joining him, handing him a cold can of Sprite.

“Here,” you say, turning toward Val. “Let me help.” She rips off a few paper towels and places them in your outstretched hand. You lean down to scrub the damp carpet.

Whatever Jeonghan’s problem is, you decide it’s not your business.

“Here you go.”

Jeonghan snaps out of staring at the back of your head, turning to his friend offering him a Sprite.

“Thanks, man,” he tells him sincerely. He barely had had any beer, but his head was already starting to ache. Nothing the sugar in an ice cold pop can’t handle, he thinks, though considering that he’s never had a drink in his life he’s not sure how he would know that. Regardless, the cold Sprite tastes delicious after the lousy night it’s been.

“What were you and y/n talking about?” Seungcheol asks. Jeonghan jumps slightly at the question, but he realizes he just was genuinely asking - he’s never told his best friend about his life-long crush on you, so why would Cheol be suspicious?

“Hm? Oh, nothing really,” he answers nonchalantly. “Just in disbelief of how much mess some teenagers can make in a couple hours.”

“You said it, dude,” Seungcheol agrees, face contorting into a disgusted expression as he realizes he's just picked up a used tissue with his bare hands. “Blech,” he gags as he chucks it into Jeonghan's trash bag. “That's nasty." He swiftly disappears into the kitchen to wash his hands.

Left momentarily alone, Jeonghan’s mind begins to wander. He stares at his other best friend, who’s passed out on the couch. He’s known Joshua pretty much his whole life - people even call them twins sometimes, due to how similar their personalities are. And they're not wrong, it doesn't bother him. But sometimes, if he starts thinking too much, he wonders why you ended up with Joshua and not him. It’s no secret that out of the two of them, Joshua is far more charming and socially adept. And besides, Joshua made his move first. He can’t blame him for that when he had spent his whole life too afraid to even talk to you. He knows it's a stupid thing to ruminate over - but he can't help it. I’m in love with my best friend’s girlfriend, he thinks to himself, and there's nothing I can do about it. He turns his gaze to you, eyes wistful as he watches you from across the room.

And why did I almost confess that to her just a moment ago?

🖭 Track 03: Take on Me – a-ha

🎶 Oh, I'll be comin' for your love, okay

[1983, Spring - Junior Year]

You shuffle through the gravelly school parking lot toward the brown Ford Pinto parked in its usual end spot. You yank the door open, startling Joshua and making him jump so high he bonks his head upon the carpeted roof. You plop into the passenger seat and slam the door shut behind you, letting out a loud sigh as you let your backpack slide to the floor. Joshua stares at you for a moment, rubbing his head. You stare back at him, neither one of you wanting to break the silence first, but you don’t have the patience today.

“So, are you going to actually talk to me now?"

He opens his mouth to reply, but pauses, thinking over his answer. For once, you think to yourself.

“I’m sorry, y/n, really,” he finally responds. “I wasn’t ignoring you on purpose.”

“So you admit it, you were ignoring me then,” you point out.

Realizing he’s already made a mistake, his shoulders drop as he sinks into the seat. He rests his left wrist atop the steering wheel as he stares at nothing in particular through the windshield.

“I just didn’t know what to do,” he tells you downheartedly. Your stomach sinks - you know exactly where this is going.

“Just say it, Joshua.”

Sheepishly he looks back to you, his face apologetic.

“I think we should break up.”

Even though you had mentally prepared for this moment, it still hurts. You turn away, leaning your head against the window as you stare off into the distance - you told yourself you weren’t going to cry, but your eyes start to water anyway. You take a deep breath, shoving the tears back down, but you still can’t look him in the eyes.

“Okay.”

He pauses, waiting for you to go on, but you say nothing.

“So it’s mutual, then?” he asks quietly. You nod, still staring out the window. He lets out a sigh, somewhat relieved, but mostly melancholy. You both knew this was coming, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

“Can we still be friends?”

Your attention shifts, bringing your gaze back into the car. You turn, making eye contact with him. He seems nervous - he’s been avoiding this very conversation for fear of tearing the friend group apart. It’s the last thing he wants to happen, but he didn't know how you would feel about it.

“Yeah,” you answer, mustering up a slight smile. “Of course.”

His head drops back against the headrest, a massive weight lifting from his shoulders.

“Oh thank god,” he says with a deep exhale. The edges of your lips twitch into a slight grin as you try not to laugh at his reaction. But you too are relieved.

He sits back up, reaching for the ignition. With a turn of the key, the dated car whirrs to life with a series of mildly concerning noises.

“Need a ride home?”

“I’m gonna walk over to the library, actually,” you tell him as you pop the door latch and hop out of the car. That went much better than expected, but you still need to get the hell out of there. Grabbing your backpack, you go to give him the usual ‘love ya’, but you catch yourself. You stare at him blankly for a moment, trying to figure out what to say.

“Well, see you later then,” is what you land on; it comes out a bit too formally.

“See you later.”

You walk past the car and toward the main street. The library was an excuse, but you decide to head there anyway. Joshua watches you walk away for a bit, wondering if you’ll turn back around, but you don’t.

The last few months of junior year dragged on for what felt like an eternity. Like you both agreed, you and Joshua remained friends, and thus the friend group was saved. But, that didn’t stop things from being a bit weird. Nobody really knew what to do about it, but everyone reached an unspoken agreement to pretend like nothing happened. It was fine, for the most part, but you still found yourself avoiding Joshua at all costs. It ended up being pretty easy, as he was also avoiding you, and just spending noticeably less time with the whole group in general. Seungcheol and Val were still connected at the hip, of course. So, in a strange turn of events, you started hanging out with Jeonghan on the regular.

It was a little odd at first - not uncomfortable, you’ve known him your whole life, so spending one-on-one time with him was no biggie. But the frequency of you hanging out together, just you and him - that was certainly new.

One of the first new Jeonghan-related discoveries you made was that you have a hobby in common: Legos.

You didn’t really know anyone else who built Lego sets except for nerdiest kids in school, so it was information you generally kept to yourself, in the interest of not being made fun of. But one day, you make an off-hand comment about it.

Jeonghan’s face perks up, looking up at you from across the table. You’re currently in the mall food court, sharing a large serving of greasy french fries.

“You like Legos?” he asks, eyes wide as saucers. You shrug at him.

“Yup,” you reply nonchalantly. “Surprise, I’m a huge nerd.”

He leans forward, putting his elbows on the table as he gets closer to you, a smirk painted across his face.

“I fucking love Legos,” he mutters under his breath.

And so, you end up in Jeonghan’s bedroom for the first time.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, you let him show you his favorites builds out of the dozens of completed sets on display around the room. You note the large pile of books on the floor, cleared out from the bookshelf to make space for even more Legos.

In the middle of telling you all about the Surface Rover set in his hands, he pauses, having suddenly become self-conscious of just how long he’s been talking.

“Sorry,” he chuckles, embarrassed. “I’m probably boring you.”

“No no,” you pipe up, “These are so cool.” You smile at him reassuringly, making the mistake of direct eye contact. He stares at you through dark, pretty eyelashes, with an intensity that makes your stomach do a flip. It lingers for a moment, until he fully processes what is happening - he panics, staring at you with eyes even rounder than usual, before speedily looking down at the spacecraft in his hand. He occupies himself by fiddling with one of the tiny pieces, clicking it off and on several times.

“Um, so,” he says as he places the ship back on its shelf. “What do you wanna do now?”

You’d already spent the whole afternoon with Jeonghan at the mall, and normally you would’ve gone home by now. You’ve never spent this much time with him - with just him - at once before.

“Um, I don’t know,” you tell him truthfully. You shift upon the bed, drawing your legs up to sit criss-cross applesauce. Jeonghan stands there awkwardly for a moment, empty-handed and not sure what to do next either. His eyes drift around the room, searching for quite literally anything to talk about. They light up as he spots a shoebox over on his desk, a grin spreading across his face.

“Wanna see something?”

“What kind of something?” you inquire, but he already has the box in hand. He makes his way to join you on the bed, plopping down right next to you - so close that his outer thigh brushes against your knee. You wait for him to scoot back a bit, but he doesn’t. He opens the shoebox, revealing a jumbled collection of old polaroids. He flips through them until he finds what he’s looking for. He picks up the photo, giggling at it for a second before handing it over. Taking it from him, you see a photo of some little kids at what you can only assume is a birthday party, based on the pointy hats and cake slices. A clown poses behind the kids, holding a balloon animal with a big goofy expression on his face - much to the chagrin of the girl on the right, who is in tears. You stare at it for a moment before it registers.

“Hey!” you exclaim, making Jeonghan burst out laughing.

“Look at your face,” he teases, pointing to the girl in the photo. “You HATED that clown.”

“Yeah, and I still hate clowns to this day because of him!!” you pout, shoving him in the arm.

“Well that’s just rude. He was a very nice man.”

“Well, look at your stupid face!” you stammer back. “You got frosting all over yourself like an idiot.”

“You can’t be mean to me, it was my birthday!”

“Yeah, like a million years ago,” you say, rolling your eyes at him, but you crack a smile as you laugh.

“Here,” you say as you hand it back to him. “Take it away.”

“You can keep it.”

“Why on earth would I want this?”

“You’re right, let me keep it,” he says as he reaches for the polaroid. “That way I can show everybody at school.”

“On second thought, I will keep it,” you respond, drawing the photo back out of his reach - but not before he leans over onto you trying to snatch it from your hand. He leans so far that he loses balance, nearly tipping over entirely onto you. His hand falls upon your thigh to catch himself.

Time seems to go in slow-mo as he glances up at you, a big devious smile lighting up his face; he makes eye contact with you again, this time so close so very close oh my god, his face mere inches from yours. His grin begins to fade as he realizes just how close he is to you right now, the expression of pure joy on his face shifting into one of equal parts terror and mesmerization.

And as suddenly as it happened - the moment is gone.

Jeonghan sits back up, retracting his hands into his lap, pretending to be very interested in a mysterious dark stain on the carpet. You unfold your legs, swinging your feet back down to the floor.

“I should probably get going,” you announce as you hop up off of the bed. “I promised my mom I’d be home by dinnertime.” You pick your backpack up off the floor and sling it over one shoulder, turning around to say goodbye.

“See you later, alligator.”

He smiles at you softly, giving you a playful salute.

“After while, crocodile.”

[1983, Summer Break]

“Okay, now which character do you think you’re most similar to?”

Harsh sunlight greets your eyes as you step out of the cool, dim theater into the stuffy summer heat. Jeonghan slurps the last of his Sprite from the plastic theater cup, tossing the empty drink at a nearby trash can, which he completely misses. He scurries after the cup as it starts to roll down the sidewalk; snatching it up, he walks humbly back to the trash and carefully places it in the bin. Rejoining you, he gives you an expectant look, waiting for your response to his question.

“Hmm,” you reply as you rack your brain for names of Star Wars characters. Jeonghan rented the first two movies and forced you to watch them with him before Return of the Jedi came out so he could drag you to go see it with him. You didn’t mind the films, you actually ended up liking them a lot more than you expected, but there were just TOO many characters to keep track of.

“I don’t know. Princess Leia, I suppose?”

“No way,” he immediately rejects, shaking his head. “You’re not that cool.”

“Umm, rude much??”

He snickers, amused with himself as usual. For a long time, you thought Jeonghan was a real tool, considering that he seemed to constantly be insulting you. But as you grew closer to him, you realized that’s just what he does - the more he makes fun of you, the more he likes you.

“Okay dumbass, which character do you think you are? Let’s hear it.”

“Han Solo,” he responds without missing a beat.

“Pshhh,” you scoff at him. “Yeah right.”

“He’s cool, sarcastic, gets in trouble sometimes,” he explains. “An independent guy that doesn’t like being told what to do. Sound familiar?”

“Okay, fine,” you concede. “You’re definitely not that cool, but I’ll accept it.”

“And since I’m Han Solo, that means you’re Chewbacca.”

“WHAT?” you shout, much louder than you meant to. “I can accept being uncool, but I don’t want to be a big, hairy monster!”

“He’s not a monster,” he corrects you. “He’s a good guy!”

“Yeah, who’s big and hairy!”

“Hey now, don’t judge a book by its cover.”

You roll your eyes at him, a reaction you swear happens no fewer than fifteen times a day.

“You’re an idiot. Have I told you that?”

“Frequently,” he nods, giving you a proud grin.

You continue to banter as you walk back to Jeonghan’s car. The light blue ‘73 Mustang sits parked at the meter, sun reflecting off the windows. Since you don’t have your license yet, Jeonghan drives you pretty much everywhere these days. You secretly really like the car, and it actually makes your dork of a friend seem cool, but you refuse to ever tell him that. The ego boost it would give him would be insufferable.

“So, where to now?” he asks as you hop in his ride. He turns the ignition, the sporty engine rumbling to life.

“I should be heading home, actually,” you reply. His smile drops slightly for a moment, but he shakes it off.

“Already?” he protests, but he shifts the car into gear and takes off.

“I have to go to dinner with my family for my grandpa’s birthday.”

“Oh, nice,” he responds, but you can tell he’s a bit disappointed.

The rest of the ride is mostly silent, but not in an awkward way. That’s one thing you appreciate about Jeonghan - hanging out with him is comfortable enough that you don’t feel obligated to make small talk.

The car rolls to a stop as you arrive at your house. Although you live only a few houses apart, Jeonghan insists on driving past his home to drop you off in front of yours. “Don’t want you to get lost,” he always jokes.

“Wait,” Jeonghan calls out as you go to open the car door. You pause, hand on the door handle, as he pulls a cassette tape from the pocket of his cutoff jean shorts. Weird, considering that he normally just tosses his cassette tapes onto the dashboard, where they live until he brakes too hard and some of them slide off and land on the floor. He extends his hand to you, prompting you to take the tape.

“What is this?” you ask as you reach for the plastic case.

“A cassette tape,” he answers matter-of-factly. You whack him on the arm; he gives you a big grin.

“Alright, fine. It’s a mixtape.”

You look down at the clear case. On the paper insert, you see a tracklist - written neatly with a ballpoint pen. You recognize Jeonghan’s handwriting.

“What’s this for?” you ask, turning your head to look at him again. He shrugs.

“Just because.”

You stare at him for a moment. You’ve known Jeonghan long enough to know he doesn’t do things just because. You scan his face for a hint of ulterior motive, but he seems genuine.

“Oh,” you finally say. You’re still confused, but you don’t want to come off as rude, so you give him a soft smile. “Thank you.”

“Sure thing,” he replies coolly, his eyes lingering on you. Several more seconds of silence pass. He looks like he has something else to say, but he doesn’t. The car suddenly feels way too small.

“Okay, well, see ya later!” you say quickly as you pop the door open and hop out onto the sidewalk. Jeonghan gives you a wave as you shut the door - you turn around and quickly head inside.

Heading up to your room, you take a look at the tape again. Every song on the tracklist is one of your favorites. How did he know I like all of these? you ponder. You grab the Walkman sitting on your desk and go to insert the tape, but you pause. For some reason, it makes you nervous, as if listening to it will force you to think about your feelings about Jeonghan…

Shaking your head, you set the Walkman down, placing the cassette case on top of it.

Later, you tell yourself. I’ll listen to it later.

brrrrriiiiinggg

The sound of the telephone resonates through your headphones, bleeding over your music. You pause the tape and slide your headphones down onto your shoulders, listening to it ring a couple times before somebody elsewhere in the house picks up the line. A few seconds later, you hear your mom shout from downstairs.

“Y/n! It’s for you!”

You reach for the phone across your desk and pick up the receiver.

“Hello?”

“You’re back from dinner?” you hear Jeonghan ask.

“Well… Duh. How else would I be answering the phone?”

“Good,” he continues, disregarding your sarcastic comment - a rare occurrence for him. “Meet me at the playground in 15 minutes.”

“What? Why-” but the line clicks as he hangs up. Confused, you stare down at the receiver for a minute, the sound of the dull, steady tone filling your ears. You place the handset back on the base, jumping off your bed and grabbing your sneakers. You take a moment to shove some pillows under the covers before turning the light off. Quietly, you open your bedroom window and squeeze yourself out onto the roof, carefully stepping onto the branch that leads to the treehouse in your backyard. You climb down its ladder and drop to your feet silently upon the grass. You sneak out the side gate and head toward the neighborhood playground a few blocks away.

As you arrive, you see a figure with familiar long dark hair sitting on one of the swings. Your feet crunch on the gravel as you walk over to join him, making him turn his head.

“Hey,” you say as you sit on the swing next to his.

“Hey,” he replies.

Your toes brush against the ground beneath you, further displacing the gravel that has already been cleared away from swing usage. The light wind against your back pushes you slightly; you let yourself drift back and forth. You look at Jeonghan, waiting for an explanation.

“So?” you prompt. “What’s up?”

He bites his lip, staring off into the distance as he thinks over his words for a moment. Shaking his head, he looks back to you, eyes locking with yours.

“I like you.”

He says it so nonchalantly that it takes a few moments for you to register what he just said.

“What?”

“I like you,” he repeats. “Like, like like you. More than just a friend.”

Dumbstruck, you stare at him, lips parted ready to respond, but words escape you. Truthfully, you’re not even all that surprised by what he said - but his directness threw you for a loop.

“And I need to know how you feel, or I’m gonna lose my marbles.”

“I…” you start, but your words trail off as your mind wanders, thinking a million miles a minute.

“Even if you don’t like me back,” he adds. “We can still be friends and I’ll never bring it up again. Or if you don’t want to still be friends, I’ll respect that. I just have to know.”

“You’re right, we shouldn’t be friends anymore.” You can see his heart sink, but before he can say anything you reach over and grab the chain of his swing, drawing him toward you.

“I mean, we shouldn’t be just friends anymore.”

His face is close to yours, so close; you watch as the gears turn in his head, your words finally clicking. His eyes light up, a big cheeky grin spreading across his face.

“You little…”

You giggle, then lean in and kiss him.

🖭 Track 04: What I Like About You – The Romantics

🎶 Tell me I'm the only one / Wanna come over tonight, yeah

[1983, Fall - Senior Year]

The crowd erupts in a roar of cheering as the home team scores a touchdown, or so you presume. You’re currently a bit busy, making out with Jeonghan under the bleachers.

He stops kissing you for a second, his hand resting on the back of your neck as he locks eyes with you.

“Should I give you your birthday gift now?” he inquires, his lips pressing lightly against your nose.

“That tickles!” you giggle, pushing him away playfully, but he quickly draws you back into his arms.

“You already gave me my present, dummy,” you remind him, referring to the new Star Wars Lego set he gave you three days ago on your actual birthday. You’d had your eyes on it for a while, but it was expensive, so you were planning to save up for it, but he knew how badly you wanted it and decided to surprise you.

“I gave you one of your presents. But I have another one,” he informs you.

“You really didn’t have to get me anything else.”

“Hey, you only turn eighteen once,” he says with a shrug.

“Alright then, what is it?” you ask, smiling at him cutely.

“Can’t tell you.”

You wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t.

“Ooookay…”

“I have to show you.”

He grabs your hand, dragging you back toward the hole in the fence where you snuck into the bleachers.

“C’mon, let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

He takes you back to his car, driving out of the stadium parking lot into the dark night. He drives for a while, winding down various backroads, taking you god knows where.

“Are we there yet?”

“Not yet.”

You wait a few seconds before pestering him again.

“How about now?”

“Patience, babe.” He reaches his right hand over, resting it on top of your thigh. Your stomach flutters - it’s not like this is the first time he’s touched you like this, but something about it feels different tonight.

The trees seem to get more and more dense the further you drive. You trust your boyfriend, but it’s still a little spooky. Eventually, he pulls up to a clearing, shifting the car into park. You look around, but you still don’t see anything but trees.

“We’re here!” he says cheerfully. You stare at him suspiciously.

“And where exactly is ‘here’?” you inquire, but he’s already hopping out of the car. He makes his way over to the passenger side, opening your door and offering his hand. You take it, letting him help you out of the car, but you’re still a bit wary. He laces his fingers between yours, dragging you along into the trees.

“Watch your step,” he tells you as you come across a large tree root protruding into the path. As you step over it, you hear rustling up ahead, accompanied by the faint smell of smoke.

“Jeonghan…” you whisper nervously.

“Almost there, darling,” he responds, looking at you fondly. You see a break in the trees ahead - as you approach, you hear the soft splashing of water, and the orange glow of a bonfire comes into view.

“The lake? Why are we at the la-”

“SURPRISE!!!!!!”

You jump, startled by the choir of voices shouting at you all at once as the familiar faces of all your friends pop out all around you.

“SHIT,” you scream, instinctively clinging to Jeonghan. He laughs, wrapping his arms around you and drawing you into him. You whack him in the stomach, but a big grin spreads across your face.

“You did all of this? Just for me?”

“Just for you,” he replies, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

Music starts to blare from a boombox as your friends swarm around you, hooting and hollering as the party begins. Somebody hands you a beer; Jeonghan has also acquired one - he raises his bottle to yours with a clink.

“Happy birthday, y/n.”

The party goes late into the night. Jeonghan had thought of everything: snacks, pizza, beer, balloons, and even smores. You sit around the bonfire, roasting a marshmallow and chatting with the few remaining partygoers - most people had headed out by now, it was almost midnight after all.

“Hey,” Jeonghan speaks softly as he appears next to you, scooting in close and wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Hiii,” you say, the big goofy grin on your face giving away that you’re decently buzzed right now.

“How was the party?”

“It was perfect,” you tell him, laying your head on his shoulder.

“Good,” he replies proudly. “I’m glad you liked it.” His fingers raise to your chin, lifting your face up toward him, planting his lips on yours in a soft kiss. As he draws his head back, a smirk grows upon his face.

“What?” you ask.

“Your marshmallow is on fire.”

Whipping your head back toward the bonfire, you see the giant marshmallow at the end of your stick engulfed in flames.

“Oh fuck!”

Giggling, he takes the stick from your hand and pulls the blackened sugar remnants out of the heart of the fire, shaking it a bit until it extinguishes.

“Man,” you pout, “I was looking forward to eating that.”

“Here, I’ll get you another one.”

Several lightly toasted marshmallows later, the last of your friends start to roll out. Seungcheol and Jeonghan put out the now-dwindling bonfire, the lakeside going dark in the absence of the flames. Everybody packs up, saying their goodbyes and driving off back into town. Finally, it’s just you and Jeonghan remaining. You start to head to his car, but he doesn’t follow.

“You coming or what?” you call, taking his hand, but he pulls you back toward him.

“Wanna do one last thing?” he asks, a smirk growing upon his face.

“Oh god,” you groan, looking at him skeptically. “What are you up to now?”

Saying nothing, he bolts off back toward the lake.

“Hey!!” you shout, jogging after him. He peels his shirt off as he speeds off, tossing it aside, running onto the old dock protruding out into the dark water. He reaches the end, unbuttoning his jeans and sliding them off, along with his socks and shoes in one fell swoop.

“Jeonghan Yoon, what the hell are you doing?!”

Standing there buck-ass naked, he looks back at you over his shoulder. He gives you a devious grin, then dives into the lake.

He surfaces as you reach the end of the dock, his long dark hair laying drenched against his face. He sweeps his hair back out of his face, eyes wide with rushing adrenaline.

“You coming in? The water’s nice!” he hollers, treading water to stay afloat.

“Is it really?” you ask, reaching down to dip your fingertips in the water.

“No, it’s fucking freezing,” he tells you truthfully, laughing like a maniac. Sure enough, the cold instantly stings against your skin as you drag your hand across the surface.

“You’re out of your mind,” you yell as he swims out further into the lake.

“Here, I’ll turn around. I won’t even look.” Sure enough, he twirls around in the water, facing away from you.

“That’s not why… Jeonghan it’s cold!!”

“It’s not so bad once you get used to it,” he shouts, barely audible as his voice carries across the lake. “I promise.”

You think about it for a moment. Fuck it, you decide. You take off your shoes and clothes, all the hair on your body standing up in the chilly air. Slowly, you slip your bra and panties off, crossing your arms over your cold breasts. You step up to the edge of the dock, your toes hanging off the wooden plank, staring down into the pitch black water beneath you. Your mind races, but you know if you stand here thinking about it much longer, you’ll talk yourself out of it. Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes and jump.

The frigid water hits your skin like knives as you plunge into the lake. You kick your legs, hurtling yourself back up to the surface. You gasp as you break into the night air once more, starting to doggy paddle to keep yourself afloat.

“Yeah!!!” you hear your boyfriend cheer in the distance. You spot him as he starts swimming back, water splashing calmly around him as he glides toward you. He swims directly into you, throwing his arms around you and kissing you.

“Hey, I’m trying to stay afloat here you moron!” you shout as you push him away, but you’re laughing along with him. His gaze locks onto yours, the corners of his eyes crinkling with a huge smile plastered across his face.

You’re drenched, you're frozen, and you don’t even really like swimming in the first place. But here, tonight, with Jeonghan - you’ve never felt more carefree.

[1984, Winter - Senior Year]

“Babe, you awake?”

You open your eyes to Jeonghan’s ceiling. The sound of the newest Rush album playing on the stereo had apparently lulled you into a trance; you sit up on his bed, looking over at your boyfriend reclining in the large navy beanbag across the room. He’s laser-focused, eyes on the small television as he controls his Atari joystick.

“Hm?” you ask sleepily.

“I was asking if you were awake,” he repeats, smiling as his eyes are still glued to the screen. “But you answered my question for me.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to ignore you,” you tell him, stifling a yawn. “I was just really relaxed.”

The game gives a series of upbeat beeps and boops to indicate victory. Jeonghan sets the joystick down and turns the console off, getting up and making his way over to you. You scoot over on the bed to make room; he plops down, curling up beside you.

“So,” he starts, placing his arm gently around your waist, tracing his fingers along your side. His parents are gone for the weekend, so you finally get to spend some quality time together - alone.

“What do you wanna do now?”

You roll onto your side, situating yourself even closer to him, your body pressed against his. A smile slowly creeps onto his face. His hand lifts to your cheek, fingertips brushing against the soft skin lightly, making your heart flutter. He leans in, planting a delicate kiss upon your lips; your hand snakes around his waist, clinging to the side of his shirt as you kiss him back. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you in tight before pulling you over on top of him. The kiss breaks as you giggle; you gaze down at him, locking onto his dark brown eyes. Slowly, he slips his hands underneath your shirt, watching you carefully to make sure you’re okay with it. You grin at him, pressing your lips to his again. He grasps onto your skin, pressing himself against you as closely as possible as he makes out with you. He slides his hands further up your shirt, fingers grazing over the band of your bra. You stop kissing him for a moment; he looks up at you concernedly, nervous that he’s gone too far. You sit up, legs straddled around him, reaching for the hem of your top and slowly lifting it up and over your head. His eyes widen, staring at your body as you discard the shirt on the floor. He pulls his own shirt off, tossing it away, eyes still locked on your breasts. His hands trace up your stomach, eyes nearly bugging out his head as he slowly squeezes his hands over the cups of your bra, smiling like he’d just won the lottery. You lean back down, tucking your head next to his, lips hovering right next to his ear.

“You can keep going,” you whisper.

He reaches around your back, fingers finding the clasp of your bra and giving it a soft tug. With a snap of release it unhooks, straps slowly slipping off of your shoulders. Suddenly he flips you over, pulling the garment off as he rolls on top of you. He presses his hips into yours, admiring the sight of you. You reach for his belt, tugging gently on the waist of his jeans. He lets out an excited giggle, a huge grin spreading across his cheeks. Barely more than a whisper, he utters into your lips as he goes to kiss you again.

“I love you.”

🖭 Track 05: Tainted Love – Soft Cell

🎶 Once I ran to you (I ran) / Now I'll run from you

[1984, Spring - Senior Year]

“Jeonghan!” you call out cheerfully, waving to your boyfriend from the schoolyard bench as he exits the building - but he keeps walking. You assume he didn’t hear you, so you sling your backpack over your shoulder and hurry after him. As you approach you see he has headphones on, his Walkman clipped to his belt. You tap him on the arm, making him nearly jump out of his skin. He rips his headphones off, turning around at a startling speed.

“Oh,” he says when he sees your face. “It’s just you.”

“Glad to see you too,” you tease, expecting him to laugh back, but he just gives you a small, seemingly-forced smile.

“You okay?” you inquire, slightly concerned.

He hesitates for a moment, then shakes his head.

“Yeah no, I’m fine,” he says, fiddling with the headphones in his hands. “I was just zoned out. Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” you reply warmly. He doesn’t make eye contact, staring just past you instead. Your smile fades. You don’t know what, but something is up with him - and for whatever reason, he doesn’t seem to want to tell you about it. Not your favorite thing in the world, but you decide to drop it for now.

“So,” you start, changing the subject. “Seungcheol told me you got into NYU, I didn’t even know you applied! When did you find out?”

“Oh yeah. I got the letter, um… about a week ago.” He mumbles the end of his sentence as he glances down, suddenly very interested in his shoelaces.

“A week ago?” you ask with genuine surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t get the chance to yet,” he replies, but you both know it's a terrible fib.

“What do you mean? We were hanging out all weekend, dummy,” you say in a lighthearted tone, nudging him in the arm. But you are a little hurt to find out that he was keeping that information from you.

“I just… didn’t think of it,” he tells you. He runs his hand through his hair, giving you a sheeping smile. “Sorry babe,” he adds.

“Soooo…” you prompt, but he doesn’t answer your unspoken question.

“So… what?”

“Are you going to accept it?”

“Oh. Um, well I suppose I have to think about it.”

“Oh.”

You had talked casually about college numerous times, of course. You are seniors after all, it’s the only thing on everyone’s minds at this point in the school year. But all your conversations were had with the assumption that you were both going to Columbia - something you had both been planning on for years, even before you started dating. Since when had Jeonghan had a change of heart? Relax, you tell yourself. Just because he was accepted doesn’t mean he’s going to go there. But a sinister hunch lurks in the back of your mind.

He’s going to a different school because he’s planning to break up with you.

You force yourself to stop. You know you shouldn’t make any assumptions without at least talking to him first. But standing here, right in front of the school on a random Tuesday, doesn’t feel like the right place to have that conversation.

“Well,” Jeonghan pipes up before you can say anything else. “Speaking of the devil, I have to go meet Seungcheol. Says he needs me to fix his computer.” He gives you a cocky smirk. “Bet you five bucks it’s just not plugged in.”

He gives you a quick one-armed hug with a kiss on the cheek.

“Catch you later.”

“See ya,” you respond quietly, but he’s already walking off toward the parking lot.

The beefy Mustang engine roars to life as Jeonghan turns the ignition. He reaches for the first cassette he sees, inserting it into the tape deck and cranking the stereo volume. A melancholic tune blasts from the speakers as The Smiths begin to play, causing him to frown. As much as he likes this song, he doesn’t really want to listen to “Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want�� right now. But he doesn’t have the energy to search for a different tape right now, so it is what it is.

He stares out into the schoolyard, mindlessly watching some jocks throw a football back and forth. But they evidently get bored of that and head over to the group of cheerleaders, a couple of the girls practically throwing themselves at their boyfriends - one couple even starts to make out right there, tongue and all. Jeonghan grimaces, throwing the transmission into reverse and quickly backing the fuck out of the parking spot.

The drive home consists of more sad songs and too much thinking. He knows he should have told you about the letter sooner. He was waiting to find the right time, the right way to say it - but he should’ve known better than to tell Seungcheol if he wanted to keep it a secret. He didn’t blame Cheol, because he hasn’t even told his best friend yet that he has to break up with you.

A car honking snaps him out of the pensive trance he didn’t realize he had entered. He glances up at the stoplight, discovering that it had in fact turned green. He shifts the car into gear and takes off, trying to think about literally anything else - but he can’t get his mind off of you. He is painfully aware that he’s being a fucking idiot. He’s in love with you. Hell, he can’t think about the future without you being there - but that’s the whole problem. Because as wonderful as you are, he simply doesn’t believe you feel the same way about him. He’s convinced himself going to college with you will only end up with you realizing that you can do so much better than him.

And that’s why he has to end things before you have the chance to break his heart.

[two weeks later]

The beating sun reflects off the sidewalk, hurting your eyes even as you sit on a shaded bench. It’s not particularly hot, but the cloudless spring day sure is making you wish you had brought some sunglasses with you. You close your eyes, slumping further into the bench as you wait. And wait. And wait. But Jeonghan doesn’t show.

Maybe he just genuinely forgot, but that’s what you thought the first time. And the second time. But this is the third fucking time he’s stood you up. You had a suspicion he’d been avoiding you, and by now he’s all but confirmed it.

Finally, you detect the familiar rumble of a Mustang engine approaching. You open your eyes, spotting the blue vehicle speeding into the parking lot. Its brakes squeal to a stop as the driver pulls up in front of the mall entrance. Sighing, you get up and shuffle over to the car, flinging the door open and plopping into the passenger seat.

“You’re late.”

“I’m sorry,” Jeonghan mumbles. You see him looking at you sheepishly out of the corner of your eye, but you don’t meet his gaze.

“You’re really late,” you say coldly, staring out the window at nothing. “What’s your excuse today?”

“I just lost track of time-”

“I’ve been waiting for you for AN HOUR,” you shoot back, turning your head to face him. “I could have walked home by now!”

He looks down, resting his hand upon the stick shift.

“I feel really bad, y/n, I’m really sorry.”

“That’s what you said last time,” you mutter, crossing your arms.

Sighing, he shifts the car into drive and takes off.

“Do you still want to go grab a bite?”

“I already ate. I want to go home.”

The drive back to your street is silent, with only the radio humming at a barely audible level. He pulls up in front of your house; you go to exit the car, but he reaches out for your arm.

“Wait,” he says softly, his fingers brushing against your skin. “Please.”

You look back at him - the apologetic look on his face is sincere, but that doesn’t make you any less upset.

“Jeonghan, you can’t keep doing shit like this. You’re acting like you don’t even want to be around me anymore.”

“No, babe, that’s not true-”

“Did I do something?”

“What?” he questions. “No, no you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why are you acting like this?”

“I…” he sighs, staring back at the steering wheel. He shakes his head, his words trailing off. You wait for him to say something - anything - but he doesn’t.

“Fine,” you exhale, exasperated. “Call me when you’re ready to actually fucking talk to me.”

You throw open the car door, slamming it shut and storming off into the house. Your lip quivers, eyes watering as frustration swells in your chest, but you swallow it.

Jeonghan stares after you until you disappear through the door. He drops his head, burying his face in folded arms against the steering wheel. With a groan, he drives the remaining couple hundred feet and parks in his own driveway. He cranks the stereo up, “Love Will Tear Us Apart” blaring through the speakers - perhaps the worst possible song to be playing right now. He lets out a haughty laugh at the irony, laughter quickly turning into tears spilling from his eyes.

Nice going jackass, he chastises himself as anger wells within him. You’ve really fucked this up now.

Inside your bedroom, you throw yourself on your bed. You stare off into space, but there’s too much shit in your peripheral vision around the room that reminds you of him. You roll over, shoving your face into the pillow, letting out a dejected groan.

You don’t know what to do, so you just let yourself cry.

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haikyu-mp4 · 8 months ago

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A middle blocker’s pride

word count; 1375 – f!reader

Life can be difficult. Accepting that your brother was moving to Paris and leaving you behind to handle your last year in high school alone was difficult. Getting into university and managing that along with a part-time job was difficult. Going on terrible dates in an attempt to follow the herd and find a mediocre partner was difficult.

But dating Suna Rintaro was easy.

He didn’t put that much energy into anything, except now and then when he made sure you knew he loved you. This year, that included two tickets for a romantic trip to Paris for your summer holidays. You had time off school and he had time off from the team, and you were especially thrilled because that location meant you could see your dearest brother again and introduce him to the love of your life.

Rintaro knew who your brother was, and he had told you that they played against each other once or twice in high school. You hadn’t been very into the volleyball scene and didn’t make it to most of the games, but you had laughed heartily at how Rintaro described Tendo Satori’s frustrating tactics.

Concerning that, you had called your brother and detailed exactly who you were in a relationship with, and he had revealed that he and Rintaro were rivals, seemingly destined to meet again but this time through you. You had laughed at that too, assuming it was just their competitiveness speaking.

But now you stood in front of the door to Satori’s apartment in Paris, hand-in-hand with Rintaro who held a large bouquet for the host, and you’re beginning to think that your boyfriend is putting a lot of energy into this.

Satori opened the door and you threw your arms up for a giant bear hug. “Satoriiiiii!” you cheered, laughing as he squeezed you before putting you back down.

“Miracle girl, and you-” Satori gasped dramatically when he finally made eye contact with a half-smiling Rintaro. “So we meet again,” he added like some Disney villain.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you under more, uhh-” Rintaro glanced at you and back at your brother. “pleasant circumstances.” He held out the flowers as well, hoping to silently hand them over.

“For me?” Satori asked as he ushered you inside the apartment before closing the door and engaging on a mission for a flower vase. “I see you’re charming your way into both Tendos’ hearts, but I must disappoint you. I can not steal you away from my dearest sister when she is so smitten with you.”

Rintaro laughed, a bit awkwardly you must admit, but still followed along into the kitchen. “Here I thought I scored a two for one,” he joked, and let me tell you, Satori cackled at this.

“Idiots. And don’t tell him I’m smitten! It’ll just go to his head,” you complained. Satori laughed as he stuffed the flowers in a much too plain vase for your taste, but it’s all he had for now. Satori scrunched his nose at you before going back to the food that was just simmering.

“I never really asked, how did the two of you meet?” Satori asked.

You and Rintaro looked at each other, and you had no choice but to tell the story yourself when you saw his smirk if only to ensure no unnecessary details were added or even made up. “I’ll tell you, it was quite the meet-cute.”

During your second month in university, you went to a volleyball game on a failed first date and that man was just plain nasty. When the game ended he kept whispering in your ear about taking you home to his place with a hand clutching your thigh, not particularly seducing when his breath could stink up the whole room. You excused yourself to the bathroom in a nervous rush, and as you tried to escape from him, you ran into Suna.

He looked up from his phone as you stumbled back a bit, and his eyes widened just a smidge when you mouthed ‘help’. You got nervous as his face seemed to stay apathetic until your date grabbed your arm from behind you and he finally stepped in.

Suna switched to a glare and directed it at your date. “So this is the man you’re trying to make me jealous with?” he said, and you tried your hardest not to focus on how attractive his voice was. Instead, you looked between the two a bit nervously. Suna seemed to notice your lack of following up. “You know I still love you,” he said and looked back at you.

You took a deep breath and turned to your date. “I’m sorry, I realise now that I’m still in love with him too.” It was said so robotically that Suna could swear he had never seen a worse actor in his life.

Thankfully, your date looked Suna up and down and decided it wasn’t worth it, scoffing before leaving you alone. “You’re not hot enough for this.”

You let out a deep sigh and closed your eyes, not yet noticing Suna’s smug grin. “I think you’re pretty hot, but you’re a terrible liar.”

“So basically, it was love at first sight,” you concluded, giggling as Rintaro started pushing your arm in protest.

Satori couldn’t deny the ache in his heart when you looked at Rintaro with the same adoration you used to hold for him, but it was accompanied by warmth as he knew you were loved the way you should be. He sighed dreamily at the end of the story, “Ahh, young love.” He finally moved the pots with the finished food over to the dining table, placing them on the coasters. It smelled pretty good, but you were more excited for the dessert.

You and Rin sat on one side of the table while Satori sat on the other, and Rintaro struggled with getting into the conversation. As he watched Satori tell stories about his life in Paris, he thought back to their previous meeting.

Suna breathed out sharply at the distant voice of the opposite team’s middle blocker, who was singing his heart out about crushing their spirits and breaking their hearts. Osamu laughed at his teammate, patting his shoulder harshly. “Letting him get to ya, Sunarin?”

He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he turned towards the redhead, also realising they were walking back on the court now. “A weirdo like that? Never.”

When Tendo rotated in front of him next, Rintaro scowled at the sight. He was dancing around after blocking their spike as if that was some great achievement. Suna could probably have played a better decoy for that one, but he found himself more annoyed with Atsumu for letting the guess-monster toy with their spikers.

So when he finally had the ball set for him, he used his classic tactics to twist and shove it right down on their side, not giving Tendo a chance to stuff it. As they landed back on their feet, they were face to face and the redhead squinted when Suna smirked. “You annoy me.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

Now, as the three of you were only halfway through your dinner because you kept laughing and yapping away, Rintaro finally let a soft smile fall on his lips. When you were with your brother, you seemed so… like yourself. It made him genuinely happy watching the two of you joke around, and he thought, maybe people who let themselves be a little weird are better off in the end.

So he jumped right into the conversation by adding onto one of Satori’s jokes, and the other man cackled again and pointed at Rintaro in something akin to validation. A warmth enveloped him when your hand found his on the table, rubbing your thumb over his skin and looking to the side at him with the warmest smile he ever received. He couldn’t help himself and leaned in for a quick kiss, making Satori pretend to gag before assuring you he was just joking. Rintaro laughed before holding up a napkin to cover you as he went in for a second one.

This wasn’t such a bad way to spend his energy.

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prythiansprincess · 7 months ago

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CHAPTER ONE

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🤍 pairing: theodore nott x reader.

🤍 song inspiration: sunroof by nicky youre.

🤍 author’s note: wake up babe summer theo just dropped.

Step 1 of Pansy Parkinson’s Perfect Plan of Plotting

Meet Cute — : A cute, charming, or amusing first encounter between romantic partners.

Every good story starts with a meet cute. Unfortunately for Theo and Y/N, their first encounter happened when they were still both in their mother’s wombs, but I won’t let that deter me. What better way to start off the summer holiday than getting rescued from a remote airport by your knight-in-shining armor with a fresh haircut and a recently acquired driver’s license? Side note: research the credibility of the Ufficio Motorizzazione Civile because whoever granted Theodore Nott a valid license is clearly bloody mental. Regardless, those two will be riding off into the Italian sunset in a brand new baby blue convertible and it’s all thanks to me.

First Year, Hogwarts Express

On the other side of the frosted glass window, the English countryside passed by in a dizzying blur as the rain painted the landscape in a dreary haze. The train left a trail of smoke and steam behind as it journeyed along, bringing you closer and closer to Hogwarts. You shifted in your seat, nearly sliding off the red leather cushion as you trained your eyes on the horizon.

By evening, you would arrive in the Scottish Highlands to begin your education at Hogwarts. When you got on the platform at King’s Cross, you thought that the worst of your anxiety would subside, but it only grew within you like a cresting wave. Being away from home for the first time in eleven years was intimidating enough, but now you had the sorting ceremony to fret over.

Your parents were convinced that you would be sorted into Slytherin as they had when they both attended Hogwarts. Up until now, you were fairly confident in this as well, but the minute you boarded the train, doubt started to rear its ugly head.

You had to be sorted into Slytherin. Not only because you’ve had the green and silver posters hanging in your room since birth, but also because you couldn’t imagine being in any other house.

Just then, the cabin door slid open and startled you out of your thoughts. Theo plopped down next to you and stretched his legs on your lap.

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “There’s two benches in this cabin, Teddy.”

Your best friend grinned, his messy brown hair falling over those moody watercolor eyes. “Yeah, but they’re not as comfy as you.”

His cheeks were rosy from running around the train, but yours were even more flushed in comparison. Theo always had that effect on you. “I found the others, by the way. They’re in Malfoy’s cabin eating their way through a mountain of sweets. Did you want to join them?”

You shook your head, looking out the window. “Maybe later.”

Theo swung his legs over the bench and faced you. “You’re nervous.”

It wasn’t a question. Theo knew you well enough to read your silence.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Not to anyone but me,” he said reassuringly. “You haven’t stopped twisting your ring since we left London.”

You looked down at your right hand and surely enough, you caught yourself twisting the emerald ring on your middle finger. It was a nervous habit that you weren't even aware of until Theo pointed it out a few years ago.

That was the thing about your friendship. You spent so much time together that sometimes it felt like Theo was an extension of you. His mother used to say that the two of you were destined to be best friends, given the fact that she and your mum were closer to sisters than friends after forming a lifelong friendship during their time at school.

It was one of the main reasons why the sorting ceremony worried you so much. For your entire life, you had gotten used to doing everything with Theo. The two of you had been inseparable since birth. A part of you had always wondered if you and Teddy would be friends if it weren’t for your mothers.

“What if I don’t get sorted into Slytherin?” you asked in a small voice.

Theo leaned back and tugged at the end of your scarf. “Of course you’ll get sorted into Slytherin.” He smiled, curling his finger around the cashmere material. “Did you know that when we were born, our mums put us in matching green and silver booties? I didn’t endure all that humiliation just for you to back out now.”

“I’m serious, Teddy.” You shoved your hands into your pockets and stared at your shoes. “What if we get sorted into different houses? What if you meet your housemates and decide that you’d rather be friends with them than me?

Theo’s expression softened. “Hey,” he said, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You’re my best friend, Y/N. A stupid sorting hat won’t change that. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” He paused, grinning. “Unless you end up in Gryffindor.”

You smacked his arm, trying and failing to fight the smile tugging at your lips. “That’s not funny, Teddy!”

He chuckled. “I’m just winding you up, fragolina.”

For an eleven year old, you suppose that calling a freckled redhead little strawberry was peak comedy. At least Theo seemed to think so.

“Speaking of which, are you sure you’re not a long lost Weasley? Then you’d really need to worry about Godric snatching you up.”

“You are an absolute menace, Theodore Nott.”

Theo grinned. “But would an absolute menace remember to buy you candy?”

He reached into his pocket and held his palm out to you. In his hand sat a familiar purple and gold box that held the best treat in the wizarding world.

“A chocolate frog,” you said with delight. “My favorite.”

“Got it from the trolley. I figured you could use a little cheering up. Though I might’ve accidentally sat on it.”

You giggled, holding up the slightly dented box. “Thanks for the chocolate blob, Teddy.”

Theo grinned. “Any time, Y/N.

Day One, Vallara Floo Station

The phone rang and rang and rang.

You looked around helplessly at the floo station, praying to whatever gods that were listening that Pansy would pick up. Much to your dismay, you were sent straight to voicemail. Again.

“Pansy Parkinson, you better be laid out on a yacht with hot Italian witches dangling grapes into your mouth because that’s the only acceptable reason for not picking up your bloody phone. I swear to Salazar, I think I just told a man that I’d love to pet his chicken. Theo’s never going to let me hear the end of this—”

At that moment, you became convinced that the heat of the Italian countryside had melted your brain because you could’ve sworn that you recognized the familiar laughter echoing from behind you.

“I’m offended, bella. All those years of friendship and yet you’ve never offered to pet my chicken.”

You nearly dropped your phone when you whirled around and came face to face with your best friend. The Italian sunshine had been good to Theo. He looked tanner than when you last saw him, bringing out the moles and freckles that painted his olive skin like constellations. Those piercing blue eyes crinkled when he smiled and the sight of it nearly swept you off your feet.

As if reading your mind, Theo enveloped you into a bone-crushing hug. The scent of expensive cologne and cigarette smoke enveloped you like a comforting hug. The hem of your gingham sundress billowed as Theo twirled you in the air. You laughed in delight, not caring one bit that the two of you were making a scene in the middle of the floo station. You hadn’t seen your best friend in two months, which was nearly an eternity for you and Theo.

After graduation, Theo had headed down to the Italian countryside to spend the summer with his nonna. Usually, you would’ve joined him, but you were busy visiting family in New York. As fun as the States were, you missed home and you missed Theo — the two of which were synonymous in your mind.

“I missed you, fragolina,” Theo murmured into your hair. You grinned, squeezing him to convey your agreement.

“Missed you too, Teddy,” you said softly. Theo set you down, giving you the chance to fully examine him. He was wearing a white linen button down and cotton shorts, his usual attire to combat the summer heat. Handsome, but in an effortless sort of way.

You cocked your head, running your fingers over his chesnut waves, which were now tinged with gold, courtesy of his constant exposure to the sun. “You cut your hair.”

Theo nodded, running a hand through his cropped cut with a self-conscious expression. “I like it,” you said decidedly. “It looks good on you.”

Satisfaction coursed through you as Theo blushed, his cheeks tinged with pink. It reminded you of the very first time he ever wore his natural waves around you. It was sometime during second year when you both got drenched from the rain at the Black Lake. You ran your hands through his hair, smiling as you told him that you quite preferred his hair that way. Since then, Theo stopped gelling his hair.

“Big changes this summer,” Theo declared with a wink. Without hesitation, he gathered your suitcases and hauled them along like they weighed nothing. To him, they probably didn’t. You could’ve used his strength when you were struggling to lug your bags through customs. “Speaking of, I finally got my license.”

Your jaw dropped. Ever since your dad took the two of you out on a joyride in his beloved vintage Mercedes — Mercy, for short — Theo had become obsessed with learning how to drive. You had no interest in it, but your best friend was absolutely adamant. When he put his mind to something, Theo was quite unstoppable. He even managed to convince your dad to give him lessons. Not on his precious Mercy of course, but on the family car.

“I have no idea why you would want to ride around on a steel trap when there’s a perfectly good tube system at home,” you chided, swatting at your best friend’s arm as he rolled his eyes at your repeated lecture. “But I am proud of you, regardless.”

“Good, cause I’m about to take you on the joy ride of your life.”

You halted as Theo bounced past the entrance, walking right up to a very expensive looking vintage sports car. The baby blue top down sparkled in the sunlight and its chrome interior shined so spotlessly that you could see your reflection staring back at you. Theo gingerly arranged your suitcases in the backseat, careful not to disturb the delicate white leather seats.

“You did not,” you gaped in disbelief.

Theo only grinned. “I did, too.”

He rounded the hood and reached over to pull the door open. You turned back, hesitation written all over your face as you surveyed the car. Despite its vintage style, you knew that it would probably be fast. Too fast for your liking.

“No offense, but are you sure they didn’t make a mistake during your driving test? Maybe they meant to give the license to someone else.”

You were proud of Theo. Truly, you were. But you had been witness to one too many driving lessons where he accidentally ran over the curb or nearly flipped the car from how fast he turned. Needless to say, it didn’t exactly inspire confidence.

Your best friend huffed in indignation. “I’ll have you know, I’m an excellent driver. Even my examiner said so.”

“She should probably get her vision checked, then,” you murmured under your breath.

“I heard that,” Theo stated with narrowed eyes. He ushered you along, herding you into the front seat. “Your lack of confidence in me is quite frankly appalling, fragolina.”

“It’s not that I’m not confident in you,” you explained as you buckled in. “I’m just not confident that you won’t abuse the poor, defenseless curbs of your homeland.”

“I promise you, I’ve gotten much better since my last lesson. Now sit back, relax, and feel the beautiful breeze of Italia against your skin.”

You did no such thing. You spent the first few minutes white-knuckling the seat cushions. Theo, on the other hand, whistled a happy little tune as he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. To his credit, his driving seemed to have improved since the last time you witnessed him get behind the wheel. Enough for you to gradually release the chokehold you had on your seat.

“So, where’s our gracious host? Too busy sipping on limoncellos with pretty stregas to pick up her best friend from the station?”

Theo’s mouth quirked. “Close. She’s trying to keep Malfoy and Riddle from tearing up the villa. They had a little disagreement about the room assignments. Draco wanted the room facing the east side of the house, for an optimal view of the sunrise.” You snorted at Theo’s overexaggerated snooty impression of your blonde friend. “Of course as soon as he expressed this, Mattheo suddenly wanted it for the same reasons. Never mind that the twat rarely wakes up before noon.”

“Another lover’s quarrel,” you said rather sarcastically. “What’s new? Hopefully they kiss and make up before we get back.”

“They’re going to have to,” Theo stated as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “I’m not spending my summer holiday listening to those two twats fighting. I did enough of that at school.”

“How strange is it that we’ve graduated? I swear, it feels just like yesterday when we first got onto the Hogwarts Express. Now you’re driving me around the Italian coast and you haven’t hit a single curb. I wonder what other miraculous things the future has in store.”

Theo snorted. “It’s me and you against the world, bella.”

“The way it’s always been and the way it’ll always be.”

The road curved around a hill, providing you with a breathtaking view of the sunny skies and clear blue water glittering below. Despite your teasing, Theo was doing a great job of maneuvering through the narrow path. He was driving slow and steady, giving you enough confidence to lean against the door and peer at the wonders of Vallara.

Villas with colorful pastel roofs painted the hillside with pops of pinks, greens, and blues, broken up by patches of yellow from the lemon trees swaying in the breeze. The air smelled like sea salt and citrus, mixed in with other delicious smells wafting from the countless restaurants lining the market square. One of them in particular, La Dolce Vita, instantly caught your eye.

“Should we say hi to nonna?”

“She’s busy prepping for dinner back at the house. As soon as nonna heard that you were coming, she insisted on making everything herself.”

“She didn’t have to do that,” you said, smiling fondly in the direction of the restaurant. You adored Theo’s grandmother. She was a strong, loud, and vibrant woman that you’ve admired since you were a little girl. Not to mention, her cooking was to die for. “Although I would kill for her cannolis.”

“There’s a fresh batch waiting for you in the fridge.”

Your mouth watered at the thought. “I’m surprised she’s letting us use the villa. I thought we were banned after Mattheo set off those fireworks in fourth year. I’ve never seen nonna that mad.”

Theo chuckled at the reminder. Thanks to the fire fiasco, the villa had become off limits. Every visit after was to the townhouse in Rome, where she could keep a closer eye on all of you. As beautiful as the city was, you missed the countryside. Life was more peaceful out here — slow and sweet. You were determined to savor every moment before the reality of adult life hit you full force.

“Pansy can be quite persuasive,” Theo replied. “Plus, she promised to wring Mattheo’s neck herself if he tries to stir up any trouble.”

“It’s not a matter of if,” you corrected as Theo pulled up to the private road that led to his family’s villa. “It’s a matter of when.”

Your best friend hummed in approval as the car slowed to a stop. Theo parked his convertible on the driveway and killed the engine as you admired his ancestral home. The quaint country house sat proudly at the top of the hillside, its regal structure looming over the village below. The terracotta roof sloped over the towers jutting out on each side of the massive structure, the seafoam green walls wrapping around the side porch, the rounded arched windows, and the romantic balcony overlooking the blooming garden at the back of the villa. It was just as charming as you remembered.

“Home sweet home,” you murmured in awe.

The wonder of this place never grew old. Theo’s eyes crinkled as he smiled, hauling your luggage over his shoulder and leading you inside. The sunbaked walls greeted you like an old friend, the sea breeze filling the entire place with the scent of salt and citrus from the large open windows. The furniture was mismatched, but in an endearing way that somehow felt like it all belonged together.

You walked between the arched columns leading into the living room, which were bracketed with wooden banisters that overlooked the entire first floor. The further you ventured, the louder the noises echoed.

The sunny kitchen seemed to be the center of activity. You peered inside, smiling instantly when you saw the familiar figure hunched over the stove. Nonna whistled as she stirred the pot, the incredible smell of her cooking hitting you with a wave of nostalgia. Her happy tune was interrupted by the bouncing boy beside her and she tutted at Mattheo as he peered over her shoulder.

“Dio mio, did I not tell you to wait in the living room?” Nonna asked with an exasperated sigh. “You’re making me dizzy with all your bouncing.”

Mattheo smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, nonna. Everything just smells so good. Are you sure you don't need me to taste test?”

“You’ll eat when the food is ready,” she huffed in response. Mattheo pouted in disappointment, his gaze darting to the fridge hungrily. “Don’t even think about touching my cannolis. I made those for Y/N especially.”

“If you’re nice, I might share.”

Nonna grinned as you walked into the kitchen with Theo trailing behind you. She pulled you into a hug, kissing both of your cheeks as you laughed. “Thank God you’re here. This one has been driving me up the wall all afternoon.” Mattheo let out an indignant huff, but nonna ignored him. “Sit, piccolina. I’m sure you’ve had quite a journey. Theo here tells me you visited the States?”

The way nonna crinkled her nose made you giggle. Like every other sensible European, she wasn’t the biggest fan of anything American. “Yes, I stayed with my cousin in New York for a few weeks. It was a fun time, but I am glad to be back home. I’m afraid their cooking isn’t up to par with yours, nonna.”

“This is why you’re my favorite,” she chides, pinching your cheeks. “You’re just in luck then. Dinner will be served soon. If you can stomach it after my grandson’s driving.”

Theo heaved in disapproval, which only made you grin. “It was actually quite a nice drive. The view was stunning and Teddy here managed to get me here in one piece.”

“I’m glad. Theodore has been talking my ear off about it the whole summer. Nonna, I can’t wait until Y/N gets here. I miss her. Do you think she misses me? I hope she likes my car. Don’t you think she’d look quite pretty in her sundress, sitting in the passenger seat?”

Mattheo snickered as Theo cleared his throat. “Alright, that’s enough. We’ll let you get back to your cooking so I can show Y/N to her room, nonna.”

Without another word, Theo wrestled you out of his grandmother’s clutches. Nonna winked at you behind his back, making you giggle. She wasn’t subtle at all about the fact that she wanted you and Theo to be together. Nonna had been hinting at it since you were thirteen.

You trailed after Theo, noting the blush on his cheeks as he climbed the stairs. “Did I live up to it, then?”

Theo scrunched his brows, pausing at the top step to allow you to catch up. His long legs always gave him a rather unfair advantage. “Live up to what?”

“Did I look pretty sitting in your passenger seat in my sundress?”

“Don’t know,” Theo quipped. “You were too busy gripping the seats for dear life to allow me to make a clear judgment.” You rolled your eyes fondly, which made him chuckle. “I’m kidding. Of course you looked pretty. You always look pretty, Y/N.”

Now it was your turn to blush. You bit back a smile as Theo ventured down the hallway.

“I’m still here you know,” you startled at Mattheo’s presence. You nearly forgot that he was following closely behind. “I swear to Merlin, the world could be falling to shit and you two would still be too busy making googly eyes at each other to notice.”

You rolled your eyes at your curly headed friend. “I’m guessing Dray got the room you wanted based on your grumpy behavior.” Mattheo swatted at your hand when you tried to pinch his cheek. “Don’t worry, Matty. There’s always room in the wine cellar.”

He stuck his tongue out in response, followed by a smirk that you knew meant nothing but trouble. “Oh, I snagged the Rose room.”

“That’s my favorite room and you know it!”

“Don’t worry, Y/N. There’s always room in the wine cellar.” You narrowed your eyes before lunging at him. Mattheo laughed maniacally, dodging your grip as he weaved through the second floor. “Guess you and Notty boy are just going to have to double up.”

The little traitor ran straight into your room — his room now apparently — and slammed the door shut. “What does that mean?” you asked Theo.

He shrugged. “Probably nothing good, knowing the twat.”

His suspicions proved to be true when you ran into Draco and Pansy. They both greeted you with hugs, though Draco seemed a little put off.

“Good, you’re finally here!” Pansy exclaimed, brushing her bangs off of her forehead.

“With no help from you, by the way. You said you were meeting me at the floo station.”

“I had to take care of a situation. Theo here jumped at the chance to show off his little baby blue convertible and offered to pick you up instead.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “He’s been buzzing since yesterday. I swear, he doesn’t even try to hide his favoritism.”

“Well, Y/N doesn’t strong arm her way into staying at my family’s villa. Not to mention conspiring with my nonna for god knows what else,” Theo added bitterly.

Pansy rolled her eyes. “So dramatic, Theodore.” She pushed the door open to the main suite, revealing the enormous room.

The interior was bright and airy. A fresh coat of pastel pink covered the walls, but the ceiling remained a creamy shade of white with the exposed wooden beams giving the room a cozy and rustic feel. A four-poster bed faced the balcony doors, which provided a view of the gardens below. The salty summer breeze rustled the linen curtains, carrying the pleasing scent of honeysuckle and lavender.

Theo set down your luggage by the tufted velvet sofa. You ventured out through the balcony doors, leaning over the parapet to peer at the pops of pinks, blues, and purples dotting the property. By the poolside, Enzo and Blaise reclined on cushioned chaise lounges, sipping on spritzers and soaking in the sunset. You waved at your friends down below and they returned the gesture, raising their glasses with blissful smiles.

When you turned back around, you found Pansy fiddling with a flower arrangement. She placed it on the table closest to the balcony, smiling to herself when she finally got the bouquet to look the way she wanted. The stunning view, the luxurious vintage furniture, and the intricate fireplace all felt very romantic. After all, nonna did deem this the honeymoon suite, which made you all the more suspicious of why Pansy was suddenly bunking you up with Theo.

Before you could question the witch, she turned on her heel and crossed the suite. “I’ll give you two a moment to catch up, but don’t take too long. Dinner will be served in an hour.” Pansy lingered by the door, a dangerous glint sparkling in her eyes as she winked at the two of you. “Enjoy the honeymoon suite.”

If that wasn’t confirmation that Pansy Parkinson was up to something, then you didn’t know what was. You glared at the dark haired witch, but she seemed oblivious as she skipped off. Probably on her way to meddle in someone else’s business.

“Well, this was unexpected.”

“Tell me about it. Now I have to keep my things tidy or else I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“A messy room reflects a messy—”

“Mind,” Theo finished for you as his lips curved into a smile. “I’m well aware, bella. You’ve been saying it since we were ten.”

“Yet it hasn’t quite sunk in.”

“You’re just grumpy from international travel. I know what’ll make you feel better though,” Theo announced with a sunny smile as he trotted over to the bathroom. You stared longingly at the amenities, which housed a rain shower head, a tiled bench, and a heart shaped tub. “Hop on in.”

“Theodore Nott, is this your way of telling me I stink?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny,” your best friend said with a cheeky little smile. He plugged his nose and waved his hand in front of his face. You smacked him on the arm, which only made him grin even wider. “Will it help if I hopped in with you?”

A fierce blush crept up to the tips of your ears. “Pervert.”

“What? We used to take baths together all the time!”

“Yeah, when we were three.”

Theo shrugged. “Semantics. I promise not to steal your rubber ducky this time.”

You groaned in frustration, smacking him once more. “Not a chance in hell.”

“Are you sure? I’m a very efficient shower buddy. Just ask Mattheo.”

All the filthy thoughts filtering through your mind only served to make you flush even more. At this rate, your face probably matched your hair. “Get out, Theodore.”

Theo chuckled as you pushed him out the door. It was a feat in itself given the fact that he towered a good foot over you, but you managed to shove him through the threshold. Your best friend chuckled before placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Have a good shower, fragolina,” A devious grin tugged at his lips as he paused. “Try not to think of me while you’re in there.”

You rolled your eyes, but the words had already planted a very dangerous seed in your mind. As you stepped into the shower, you were ashamed to say that you failed Theo’s challenge.

This bloody honeymoon suite would be the death of you.

A wave of nostalgia hit you full force as you made your way down the stairs. In the dining room, your friends sat around the large mahogany table chatting and drinking. You exchanged a cheek kiss with Blaise and ruffled Enzo’s hair before making your way over to your usual spot. Theo grinned up at you and patted the seat next to him.

“How was your shower?”

“Fine,” you answered robotically. “Great. Uneventful.”

Theo didn’t miss the way your eye twitched. The twat actually smirked. “I don’t know about that, bella. You sound a little tense. Should’ve taken me up on the offer. I would’ve been more than happy to throw in a complimentary massage. If you asked real nicely.”

You flushed, crossing your arms. “I’d sooner invite Mattheo to shower with me than ask you for a massage.”

Mattheo’s curly head perked up from across the table. “Oh?” Much to Theo’s annoyance, his best friend wiggled his brows and winked at you. “Finally tired of Notty boi, huh? You want a dose of Riddle, babe?”

Before you could deign to respond, Nonna swatted the back of Mattheo’s head. He protested, but she showed no signs of remorse as she took a seat at the head of the table.

“Do not ruin my appetite, Mattheo.” Nonna scolded. “Now be a dear and pass the lasagna. I didn’t slave away in the kitchen for hours just to listen to your lecherous comments.”

At Mattheo’s defeated expression, you and Theo tried and failed in keeping in your laughter. Riddle glared at the two of you, but resigned himself to following Nonna’s orders. As your friends piled pasta onto their plates, a bittersweet feeling rushed through you.

The people seated at this table had been an integral part of your life for as long as you could remember. Pansy, Blaise, Enzo, Draco, Mattheo, and Theo had always been just a couple of steps away, but now that you had all graduated, the seven of you would be scattered in different places. It made your heart ache just thinking about it.

“We still have the whole summer,” Theo whispered softly. He nudged his knee against yours under the table. The familiarity of the gesture brought you comfort. It never ceased to amaze you just how well Theo knew you.

“And the rest of your lives if I have anything to say about it,” said nonna as she filled your glass with red wine. “Smettila di fare il codardo, nipote.”

Theo groaned. You understood enough Italian to know that nonna was pushing her agenda again. “Not this again, nonna.”

“I will not stop until you get it through your thick skull, Theodore.”

As nonna launched into a full on lecture in her native language, you grinned in amusement at your best friend. Theo sulked like a child, but his expression brightened as you knocked your knee against his.

After dinner, you spent the rest of the night camped out on the terrace. The view was stunning as the sun set over the horizon, tinging the villa in technicolor. Your friends gathered around the fire pit, sipping sangria and playing games. As usual, the boys found themselves a few galleons lighter after you swindled them during wizard poker. One would think that they’d learn their lesson by now, but your friends were still determined on risking their fortune against you.

All except Theo.

Knowing that his own mother passed down her skills of deception to you, Theo knew better than to challenge you. Instead, he sat back and watched the boys lose with a smile on his face. When you claimed your winnings, he beckoned you under the blanket and handed you another glass of wine. Though you could’ve easily blamed the sudden warmth on the charmed knit throw or the fine vintage, you had a feeling that the heat had more to do with your proximity to Theo.

The scent of citrus and tobacco overwhelmed your senses as your best friend draped an arm over your shoulder. “Gonna share your prize with me, bella?”

“Seeing as you did nothing to help me, I’m inclined to say no.”

“Of course I helped. I pulled a vintage from the cellar so these idiots would keep playing even though they don’t stand a chance against you.”

You chuckled. “Wine or not, they would’ve lost to me either way.”

“Fine,” Theo said with a dramatic sigh. He pulled you to his side and kissed your temple “Keep your prize. I’ve already won anyways.”

“You’re awfully sentimental tonight, aren’t you, Teddy?”

“What can I say?” Theo mused, his blue eyes piercing into you. “This place brings it out of me. This country, this villa, it’s full of possibilities. Anything can happen here.”

The heat of his gaze seared your skin, but you didn’t look away. A charge of electricity crackled in the air as if in confirmation of your best friend’s statement.

Anything can happen here.

#the need for summer theo is reaching dangerous levels #theo nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #theo nott x y/n #theo nott imagine #theo nott fic #theo nott smut #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #slytherin boys

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hwangism143 · 10 months ago

Text

off-limits

synopsis: hwang hyunjin was multiple things to you: incredible. god-like. everything. but most of all, he was off-limits. that is, until, you both are forced to share a room at a beach getaway. sounds perfectly romantic, right? except for your fear of the ocean and his recent break-up.

pairing: non-idol!hyunjin x fem!reader

genre: best friends brother trope, one room trope, angst, fluff

warnings: mentions of alcohol, swearing, mentions of death, nightmares, graphic description of nearly drowning, eating and food, slightly suggestive, near death experience

please do not read if any of these topics are triggering

word count: 15.4k words

playlist: box in the ocean - alessia cara, swimming pools - francis on my mind, mixtape: time out - stray kids

a/n: guys. my baby is here. this was requested by the wonderful @scarlet789 also, shout out to my bae avi (@stayinlimbo) for letting me scream in her dms. as usual, pls leave your comments and reblog!! they mean everything to me <3

"all these explosive emotions, i'm holding"

Hwang Hyunjin was multiple things to you. Beautiful, heavenly and ethereal were just a few words to describe him. Off-limits, however, was probably the best and most encompassing in this situation. He was your best friend Hyun-jee's brother, and a long time ago, you chose friendship over love.

Hyun-jee and her brother came from an extremely well off family. Hyun-jee's mother was a famous model while her father was the owner of one of the most popular media channels in South Korea. Unlike the stereotypical rich kid, however, Hyun-jee genuinely did want to inherit her father's business someday, eagerly waiting to take over as CEO after his retirement. For now though, she was content with just being the CFO of their overseas subsidiary.

Hyunjin however, was a bit of an enigma when it came to company legacy. Rebellious couldn't be the right word considering his parents never really minded about what he would become (they did have the extremely ambitious to the point of it being slightly terrifying younger daughter). Hyunjin was destined for greatness though. The entire Hwang family was. To your astonishment, even the family dog had his own fanpage.

Hyunjin had cemented himself in the art industry, having gone to a special arts high school and studied painting in Paris for a few years. His artwork sold in the millions, and their relevance was extremely pertinent to everyday life. A part of you marveled about how you even came to become friends with such extraordinary people when you were just the opposite of that, bland and normal.

You first met Hyun-jee in boarding school, you with a scholarship and starry eyes and Hyun-jee with her father's massive paycheck and worldly wisdom that rivaled that of the oldest ahjumma's. It was an international one, meaning that the medium of speaking was almost entirely English. You could have taken Korean as well, of course, but you opted for French instead. That was when you met Hyun-jee, the dorm arrangements being set according to the second language chosen.

Hyun-jee shone as bright as a star but she never made that cover your light. If anything, she amplified it to an incredible degree. Being friends with her wasn't slavery (as popularized by fiction), but instead it was earth-shaking, revolutionary and the most brilliant thing to happen.

Ah, fourteen year old minds.

But really, Hyun-jee was a friend you would always cherish, having been extremely close to her even after graduation. Every first day of school, you two would curl up in the couch of your common room and start telling each other all about your wild summers.

You knew, of course, about Hyun-jee's brother, but she rarely brought him up. He was a slightly sensitive topic in your friendship and you knew why. All you knew was that he liked painting and was a year older than Hyun-jee.

To be completely honest, not only were you Hyun-jee's best friend, you were also probably her first and only close friend. People had a tendency to get close with Hyun-jee just to take advantage of her family. Nine out of ten times, that was girls who wanted to date Hyunjin.

Hyun-jee loved you for being completely unaware about who she was until after you met her. Not being a South Korean native, you had no idea who the Hwang family was. The only member you did personally know was Hwang Hyun-jee, future CEO. Except to you, she was nearly a sister. She was the girl who snorted milk out of her nose while laughing, owned practically a shrine dedicated to Michael B. Jordan and had the most awful bed head. You saw a Hyun-jee that she only showed to two people in this world: you and Hyunjin.

━━━━━━━✦✗✦━━━━━━━━

All that ambiguity was about Hyunjin was about to change however, that junior year of high school. It was the first day of school and you were waiting for Hyun-jee to be dropped off near the school gates. This time though, it wasn't her old driver but someone a lot younger pulling up to the school front.

Hyun-jee opened the door and practically flew into your arms, causing a giggle to arise from your mouths and the both of you slightly stumbling backwards. Behind her, you heard a throat clear.

"Your bags, miss?" came an overly exaggerated tone of what you assumed was a male.

"Oh, piss off Hyunjin," snapped Hyun-jee, straightening her school uniform and letting go of you. She quickly introduced you both to each other. Hyunjin offered his hand and, your brain must have been on autopilot because your hand smoothly grabbed his without a hitch.

Your mind, however, was a mess.

Hyunjin was absolutely gorgeous. You could tell why so many women (and some men) pined over him. His then blonde hair fell into his eyes and he had a literal, a literal twinkle in his eyes. You probably just imagined it, but when your hand grabbed his, you felt a shock coursing through (although in hindsight it was probably just static electricity). He was attractive, yes, but you wouldn't really call it a crush, per se. It was more of a 'hey. you're good looking.' type of situation, not a 'i have envisioned our entire future together pls marry me.' kind of situation.

That was, until, Hyun-jee invited you (well, more forced by her parents to invite you) to spend the summer before senior year at her family's ski resort.

Hyunjin made you feel like you were glowing, like you were the only person in the room. If Hyun-jee amplified your brightness, Hyunjin captured it, understanding you in a way nobody else did.

While Hyun-jee was off skiing and being athletic, you and Hyunjin spent hours locked in the library. Sometimes, you sat in silence. Other times, you talked about everything under the sun, from classical literature and Jane Austen to cat videos and singing to Taylor Swift.

Being a huge bookworm yourself, you adored the concerningly large labyrinth which they called a library housed in their lodge. Hyunjin would paint on a chair with him and his easel facing you as you would lounge on the sofa, poring over yet another thick, hard bound novel. Then, you would pass that book to Hyunjin, who would also read it, giving you both a topic of conversation.

You were never bitter towards Hyun-jee for leaving you behind with Hyunjin while she took classes and taught classes at the local ice rink and snow hill. She always was better left outside than cooped up inside, unlike you and Hyunjin who were ambiverted to a fault and short-circuited if outdoors for too long.

In fact, you were thankful for it. If Hyun-jee hadn't been gone long enough for you and Hyunjin to have some time together, you never would have experienced falling in love with him. If that is what it was.

Your relationship never blossomed into something more than soft smiles and knowing glances, even the occasional (and never accidental, at least on your part) brush of fingers being constrained and a rare occurrence. Even though you weren't sure if Hyunjin had such feelings towards you, you both knew that there was a line you couldn't cross.

Still, your brain romanticized all of it. Being in love with you best friend's brother, secluded moments in a library... it really was turning into an 'i have found a wedding dress. get a ring. we are already mentally married.' cacophony of feelings. Paired with the snowy backdrop of the mountains and Hyunjin more often than not offering you his hoodie, you were, to put it mildly, in heaven.

"Hey, do you want to make hot chocolate or bake something? I'm not really getting inspiration to paint and..." Hyunjin just waved his arm around, trailing off and looking at you with hopeful eyes.

The lodge had a personal chef who could whip something up at just a sentence. He knew that. You knew that. You grinned at him, "Okay. Let's do it."

The two of you worked your way up to the private kitchen (the shock you felt and finding out they had two kitchens was so comical that Hyun-jee even recorded it). Baking with Hyunjin was terrifying. By the end of it, you had flour all over you, Hyunjin having icing on his cheek. The end result was delicious but very off-putting looking cupcakes.

While Hyunjin busied himself with cleaning, you swiped your thumb across the icing that had laid base on his face (conveniently missing the tissues practically staring at you).

Hyunjin turned his head to look at you in surprise, eyebrows scrunched and cheeks puffed. "I'm sorry," you stammered, "There was icing and-"

"No," he laughed, "It's not that. Your hands are really cold. I thought I was doing a good job of keeping you warm."

A small pout formed on his face as he motioned to take your hands. You obliged and he rubbed them for a bit, humming along to some pop song that was trending. As he was doing so, you nearly bore a hole into the floor with tour eyes, trying (and hopefully succeeding) in hiding the massive blush threatening to creep onto your face.

That night, Hyun-jee asked you nonchalantly, "Is something going on between you and my brother?"

While the question might have seemed like an innocent one, you knew the venom and pain behind it. Your thoughts were only confirmed by her usage of the terminology 'my brother', instead of just his name.

You were laying down on her bed, bile rising in your throat. Love or friendship? The thoughts in your head collided, crashing into each other like a tsunami. Hyun-jee had been there for you your entire time in Korea, caring for you like you were her own blood. Hyunjin had only known you for a few weeks but made you feel like the only girl in the world.

Your conflicting feelings towards both your situations gnawed and twisted at you like a thorn bush, scratchy weeds clawing at you and desperately awaiting respite. All it would take to get rid of that awful feeling would be one sentence of confirmation or otherwise.

Hyun-jee made eye contact with you through the mirror as she brushed her hair. "Well?" she prompted, slightly impatiently.

You rolled over onto your stomach, eyes locked onto hers. "Hm? Sorry I couldn't hear you. Nope, we're just friends, if you can even call it that." You shrugged at her and she shot you a grateful smile, eyes full of relief. Your stomach, on the other hand, was tangled up in knots that felt painfully similar to the knots that had wound their way into your heart.

Hyunjin didn't see you in the library again.

━━━━━━━✦✗✦━━━━━━━━

The irony of your situation, looking back was, well... ironic. Of the three months that you spent with the Hwang family, half of it went in trying to spend as much time with Hyunjin as possible and the other half went in avoiding him at all costs.

You were never a hopeless romantic, not really. You knew what love practically looked like, and that it wasn't perfect. If it was, then the phrase wouldn't be something as harsh as falling in love, would it? However, one thing that you constantly chided yourself about was the importance of first love.

You placed first love on a pedestal higher than anything else. You were extremely meticulous about it though. You were frighteningly determined to experience the most perfect first love one ever could, tailored to your desires. Falling in love with Hyunjin, however, was not part of the plan.

Falling in love with Hyunjin was like breathing. It came so naturally, as if it was always there but couldn't be shaken off as soon as you noticed it. It felt inevitable, it felt like life was giving you another reason to live in the form of a soft-spoken artistic boy who had a penchant for dyeing his hair.

It was so extremely easy too. How could it not be? The way his eyes crinkled in the sides when he smiled and high pitched laugh were sensations that you would pay anything to relive. The way his eyes never left you when you passionately (and sometimes violently) gesticulated about your favorite books, the way he somehow understood what you were communicating his way even without you verbalizing it, made you realize that no one had ever quite made you feel this way.

'This way', being, feeling excited at just the mere thought at knowing that you were inhaling the same air as them. Small firecrackers igniting in your stomach at just the thought of seeing them. Feeling like you would simultaneously combust and drown if you couldn't be with them.

You often lied to yourself though. No, it wasn't love. Just a passing crush, was your mantra, repeated over and over again in your head until you almost believed it. Almost. A passing crush wouldn't entail not being able to concentrate on anything apart from Hyunjin when he was in front of you. A passing crush wouldn't cause you to look at him when he thought you weren't, in an attempt to memorize his features, capture every moment and seal it in an imaginary locket.

The reason why you made yourself think these thoughts were because you were unraveling. The realization that your first love did not love you back, not even a little bit (or so you thought) crashed down all your ideals about romance. The you that existed back then was positive that you would never, ever, love again. If the person you had first fallen in love with couldn't fall in love with you, then how could anyone else?

Of course, compared to your life now, such issues felt trivial. Right? Then why did you still have such a hard time forming romantic attachments? Why was your self-esteem when it came to be loved was in the gallows, rotting in the negatives?

It wasn't Hyunjin's fault, it never was in your head. It was the causation and effect of your own fucked up idolization of falling in love for the first time. You had so profoundly accepted the notion of first love being unforgettable that you only assumed it to be positive, not even thinking about how you would grapple with the situation if it were negative.

Maybe if you did, you would learn and grow from every failed romance that you would have, all up until you found 'the one', even if it was just for that moment. But you didn't. Instead, you had grown such a clawing and deafening fear of rejection that you refused to fall in love at all.

Somedays, the loneliness would get to you. The day Hyun-jee announced to you that she officially had a girlfriend, you were happy, immensely so, but a part of you just... broke. Going to parties and dinners and even just staying in with your friends meant that you had to witness all the small things about love that you would never experience.

Your friends and their significant others were never obvious around you. They weren't constantly touching each other and making comments about their undying love for each other. But even those tiny actions, the little aspects, didn't go unnoticed by you.

The small smile of affection on one's face at anything the other did, an entire conversation passing through just a glance, the featherweight touches that probably had a heavier meaning that you would ever know - all of this was just something you could vicariously experience through the people in love all around you.

Maybe, if you weren't such a coward, you would be in love right now too, instead of wallowing in despair and the trenches of missing out.

On the last day of your stay at the Hwang lodge, you went to the library to see Hyunjin one last time. For seeking some sort of closure? Probably. For seeing Hyunjin one last time and committing his features and mannerisms, anything and everything that made up him to memory? Definitely.

You had pushed the doors open softly, letting out a shaky breath and attempting to still your restless legs. Hyunjin was hard at work behind a large canvas, propped up on a wooden easel. His arm furiously brushed against the canvas, angry strokes slapping against the medium of artwork.

He didn't notice you, continuing his work, until you cleared your throat. "Hi," you said uncertainly. Hyunjin looked at you in perplexation, like a deer caught in headlights. Quickly turning around his easel and regaining his composure, he motioned for you to take a seat on the couch.

You took him in, the light streaming in from the large window bathing him in cold sunlight that glinted off the snow. He looked like he wasn't human. It hit you, the absurdity of it all. If there was one word you would use to describe Hwang Hyunjin, it would be human.

He captured humanity within him in the sweetest form possible. He wasn't the blueprint, not by any means; he could be petty, overly dramatic and had a bit of a temper. But he was kind-hearted, constantly curious and overwhelmingly empathetic. He was so perfectly imperfect that it was incredible to you how someone like him could be a product of society as cruel as this.

"I leave in a few weeks," he said almost ponderingly, breaking a silence that hung between the two of you that was, for the first time, uncomfortable.

"If you want, I can get you something," he enunciated. You knew there were several unsaid words on his end; there were some on yours as well. But you had almost no indication about what they could possibly be, and were itching to know what they were.

"We can't- we can't be friends," you blurted out.

Hyunjin's expression was one of expectation. So he knew this was coming. He sat down next to you and let out a resounding sigh.

"I know. I'll send you something from Paris anyways," he lightly responded, attempting to liven up the mood. You just raised a shoulder and the two of you sat there for what felt like hours. Finally, you got up and made your way to the door. But before that, you stopped.

"Do you mind if I see what you were painting?"

Hesitantly, Hyunjin turned the easel around. You were met with absolutely nothing, just splashes of water all over the canvas.

"Artist's block," he said matter-of-factly.

You nodded as if you understood, even though you didn't and walked out the door with a, "Thank you. I'm sorry."

Head hung in shame, you took a step outside. You were about to step out when a voice called out to you, "It was nice, to pretend. Even if it was just for a while."

You turned to give him a wry smile, "Thank you for making summer fun for me."

He would understand what you told him. You knew he would. But that didn't mean it wouldn't hurt. That was the last time you had ever physically seen Hwang Hyunjin, ever spoken to him.

He never sent you anything from Paris.

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While you wished that your relationship with Hyunjin would be one for the romcoms, your relationship with Hyun-jee was definitely one for the situational comedies. The rich girl becoming best friends with the new scholarship student? Cable TV viewer gold.

If you were being completely honest, the first time you met Hyun-jee you did find her a little bit stuck up. The two of you had to end up being friends though. Studying the same language, French, meant that she was your roommate for the four years you would spend at that high school (unbeknown to you then, she would spend another five years as your roommate in university).

Seeing Hyun-jee walk into the dorm room, decked in designer clothes and lugging a large suitcase behind her, was enough to demolish your self-confidence. The sight made you feel extremely self-conscious about your jeans, which were sporting gravy stains, and the mud brown sweater vest which your mother simply insisted you must buy.

All your fear disappeared, however, when one of Hyun-jee's heels (Dior!) caught on the edge of the living room carpet. She collapsed onto it, placing her palms face down to avoid hitting her face. She looked up at you.

"Hi, I'm Hyun-jee. I would shake your hand, but this is the unfortunate circumstance of letting my mother style me for the first day of school."

You laughed and offered her your hand and she held onto it, steadying to her feet. You gave her your name and a once-over to make sure she wasn't hurt. Then when you finally looked into her eyes, the two of you burst into laughter over the farcical situation that had just taken place. You both were wheezing by the end of your solid ten minute fit of laughter, laying on the couch in contorted positions and trying to catch your breath. Her eye caught yours, just setting of another bout of giggles.

You two had been inseparable ever since.

Hyun-jee wasn't as perfect as she was made out to be, and she had no shame in it. If she had the choice, she would go everywhere in her pajamas. She was horrible at Math and made fun of the World History teacher you both shared, convinced he was a Freemason. Hyun-jee was as human as one could get.

Even her parents were quite natural around you, or at least the cookies her mother sent everywhere which she and Hyun-jee baked made it seem that way. Hyun-jee was always sensitive when it came to the topic of her family. She skirted around it when it was a topic of conversation as if it was poison.

It wasn't that she had a bad relationship with them; she adored her family. She just seemed extremely uncomfortable about the topic, so you never really pried, instead regaling her with stories about your two younger sisters, parents and lineage of goldfish with abnormally high mortality rates.

There was moment in your life when you understood the gravity of just how alone people like Hyun-jee was in this world. You had noticed, that despite being extremely well-known and friendly with everyone, Hyun-jee could only call you her friend. On the other hand, you weren't at all as well known as Hyun-jee but had multiple friends.

That moment was at this end of the year party your academy was hosting to celebrate the end of exams. The upperclassmen were planning to go to another location, without teachers for an afterparty, but you had convinced Hyun-jee against attending it. She always had been the risk taker in your friendship.

You were walking around, checking off your social pleasantries. Light shone in the big auditorium and you swished around your floral flock. You caught Hyun-jee rejecting yet another poor guy (too bad he didn't know she was gay), and laughed a little to yourself. Even at fourteen, Hyun-jee had model-like looks. Probably because she inherited them.

You were lost in the moment of it all, entranced by the fact that you were even standing here. Coming to this prestigious international academy was your dream. It would kickstart your scientific career, which, back then, only revolved around discovering something incredible and winning a Nobel Peace Prize.

You came from an extremely mundane family. Middle class, living in a different country in a three bedroom apartment. Both of your parents worked in software engineering, and while you loved them for it, you couldn't help but find it slightly boring. You wanted to do something great, be someone great.

Hyun-jee must have walked over to you at some point in time when you hadn't noticed, because she laced her arms through the crook of your elbow and asked, "What's got you so concentrated, wife?"

Hyun-jee had a habit of jokingly calling you her wife, which you always entertained because why not? She had made it extremely clear that she would never date you, despite being romantically interested in women. "Eh, too nerdy," was her response when you asked why. She wasn't wrong though; if it wasn't for your 'nerdiness', you wouldn't be where you were.

You just shrugged in response to her question and turned to give her a smile. The expression you were met with gave you a bit of a surprise. For once in her life, Hwang Hyun-jee looked serious about something. Her normally mischievous eyes were now set in an unreadable expression.

"What is it?" you asked as the two of you headed to the buffet. Hyun-jee grabbed two plates, one for you and one for her, and proceeded to put a little bit of everything in her plate onto yours, despite you already having taken a lot.

She didn't give you a reply, instead opting to walk towards the table where you two had laid claim. You towed behind obediently, sitting down with a satisfied 'ah!' after having been standing for over an hour. You were digging into your food, relishing the taste of school food that was good for once (okay, that was a lie; your school actually gave you good food but that was only justified considering the insane costs).

"I was trying to figure out a way to say this but..." Hyun-jee's voice faltered.

Your glanced at her, finally looking up from your plate after eating like a starved, ravenous beast. Your eyes slightly widened. Did she not want to be friends with you anymore?

Hyun-jee took a visibly deep breath, "I just wanted to say thank you."

"Thank you for being my friend. I have never really had anyone to call my own. If anybody ever got close to me, it was just to take advantage of me or use me to gain access to my family. Especially when it comes to my brother that I mentioned, remember? Hyunjin. Guys aren't friends with me because they're intimidated by him and girls only become friends with me because they want to date him. All my life I have felt like nothing more than a porcelain doll, only valuable because I held the title of being a Hwang daughter. I was labelled before I was even born, I have had to wear that label, written all over myself with fake pride, even though it sickens me. That was until I met you though. As Disney cliché as it sounds, you not knowing anything about my family and treating me like a normal person has really made me feel seen this past couple of months. Thank you, Y/N, for being my friend. A real one."

Tears began streaming down your face and streaming down her face. Paired with the emotional word vomit that Hyun-jee had just placed before you and both of you being on your menstrual cycles, this was kind of bound to happen.

You reached over to give her hand a squeeze. You were unable to say anything, partly because you were choked up with emotion and mostly because you had stuffed an entire slice of chocolate cake into your mouth while Hyun-jee was in the middle of her monologue.

That was the day that you made sure to make Hyun-jee never feel used, and that started with keeping her family at a seven-foot man's arm's length.

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seven months before.

Needless to say, your friendship with Hyun-jee wasn't always perfect. One topic that often came up during arguments was stepping out of the house. Hyun-jee was naturally more extroverted whereas you preferred the comfort of your home.

You both came up with a plan to alternatively go out and stay in while you both were roommates in college and this practice continued well after Hyun-jee had graduated.

Hyun-jee had dragged you to this upper class, high profile party as her plus one. Her girlfriend was at her parents' home and Hyun-jee simply 'could not go alone or would combust'. Regret at deciding to attend university in Korea was palpable in you (but no where else would you get delicious kimchi).

Beads of sweat clung to your forehead as you surveyed your surroundings. The party was filled with almost-drunk socialites, foreshadowing business deals and gossiping with each other. You rarely attended such events with Hyun-jee; this was her circle, not yours. You always overthought every little interaction that you had with one of them, turning it over in your head millions of times.

Even at such an event taking place at a simple rooftop resto-bar, you spotted the occasional man wearing an entire three piece set and woman rocking an evening gown. You had confirmed with Hyun-jee about what the dress code was multiple times leading up to the event, not ready to lose face in front of such prestigious people. She kept reassuring you that it was 'casual'. Clearly, the upper class' definition of casual and yours were worlds apart.

You were wearing a black, tight crop top, white skirt and white jacket that was currently below your shoulders and in caught in the crook of your elbows. You had already fended off quite a few men approaching you with a look in their eyes which made you quite uncomfortable. Having excused yourself uncountable times using numerous excuses (you had to put use to the skills that you had picked up on as an ambivert), you decided to step out onto the open area to catch some fresh air.

You glanced at the cup in your hand, not knowing where it came from. It definitely looked alcohol though, and you sent a small glare towards the cup while you set it on the first surface that you could fine. You drank sometimes, but today you opted against it. You were going to be driving yourself home and knew that Hyun-jee was going to be wasted, having lost her a few minutes after entering the premises.

You knew that Hyunjin was there too, and were uneasy at the prospect of seeing him again. After the ski lodge, you never really met him again. He had taken you phone number once while he dropped of you and Hyun-jee snowboarding while you were there at their lodge. You both rarely texted, never going beyond the cordial 'happy birthday's' and exchanging wishes during various holidays. He never questioned why you stopped coming to the library, just giving you an understanding nod when you linked arms with Hyun-jee and looked at him with guilt evident in you eyes.

Deciding to ditch whatever the hell this glorified adult frat party, you made your way to the front door when you caught sight of Hyunjin. He sat near the door, scrolling on his phone. He seemed as uninterested to be here as you were. His hair was black now, slightly wavy at the end. You knew that; of course you knew. You followed him on social media and witnessed his hair evolution, praying for his scalp while you did so.

"Hi Hyunjin," you said hesitantly. Hyunjin glanced at you, surprise evident in his face while his eyes scanned yours, "I was just about to head out. I thought I'd stop by and say hello."

"Oh, you're leaving?" he questioned in a tone of confusion laced with something else. Recognition, maybe. "Call me when you get home, so I know you're safe."

He must have noticed you expression of apprehension, because he quickly added, "So I can let Hyun-jee know when we drive home of course. I think she mentioned that we're driving to our parents house tonight."

You aren't shocked by his request, knowing how protective (and worried to death) he can be, but were taken aback at the fact that he did not want nothing to do with you. "I actually wasn't planning on going home," you told him.

At that, it was Hyunjin's turn to wear an expression of surprise. You drank in his features as you noticed the gears twisting in his head. He was thinking hard about something. Deciding that this was his way of dismissing you, you headed towards the door that led to the stairwell that would take you downstairs. Abruptly appearing beside you was Hyunjin, giving you a small tap on your shoulder.

He offered you a small smile. "Mind if I join you?"

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Hyunjin was probably at that party because of his presence in the art world. Something about his art always spoke to you, in ways the no other piece of media ever did. You always proudly reminisced about how Hyunjin showed you artwork that summer that he hadn't ever shown anyone else.

His artwork was capable of moving someone without words. You could nearly feel the emotion pouring out of him and onto his canvas. It was like his paintbrush was just an extension of himself. Everything, from the colours he used to the angle of his brushstrokes were calculated measures, all joining in the most radiant harmony of pure artwork.

After a small discussion of where to go, you both decided that it would be best to catch some fresh air and then proceed to go your separate ways. You both walked a little ways down to an old park.

You were still processing the entire situation, marveling at how on earth you managed to keep your cool the entire walk here. You both didn't say a word while on your way to the park, walking in silence. Hyunjin had his hands jammed into his pockets while you played with the strings of your jacket, curling them in and out.

That was when Hyunjin spotted a playset, smack dab in the middle of the aforementioned park.

"Come on," he squealed excitedly, "Let's go on the swing set."

You couldn't help but let out a burst of laughter. No 'hi' or 'how is life', but suggesting swing set antics instead? Gosh, he was so endearing. You both didn't really talk much, just exchanged giggles as you swung as high up as possible. Finally, after around ten minutes of swinging and one rendition of 'I Believe I Can Fly,' you both finally came down.

A part of you still loved him, didn't it?

It was dark, but you didn't really care. You were with Hyunjin and the area was known to be one of the safer, more-family centric parts of the city you lived in. You sat on the grass, knees brought up to your chest. Your arms wrapped around them while you closed your eyes, a small breeze whipping around you. It was strong enough to keep you cool yet gentle enough to not cause your hair to be similar in nature to that of a tornado.

Hyunjin observed you silently, leaning back on the grass with the help of his forearms. His legs were sprawled in front of him and he broke the silence with a casual, "How's life?"

You suppressed the urge to burst out into laughter. Imagine being asked by one of the hottest men you had ever seen, and had objectively been in love with for the longest, ask you 'how's life'. Adding to that, he was asking you the said question after suggesting that you both swing on a swing set.

"Fine, I guess. I'll be submitting my thesis, hopefully by the end of summer and then receive my doctorate," you replied, ignoring the rapid thumping in your chest.

You were not going to be held captive by a high school crush. You were so much better than that. You hadn't physically seen Hyunjin is over five years. He could have changed completely for all you knew. He could have had a girlfriend (which Hyun-jee would have told you about if that was the case, but you never know), maybe even a wife. And yet, that familiar feeling of wanting curled through your bones, engulfing you.

The two of you started talking about your lives, him as a painter and you as a final year PhD student.

"Hmm," he hummed in contemplation to something you had said, "You know, I always liked your company more then Hyun-jee's. Don't tell her though." He had mischievous look in his eyes and a smirk on his lips, eliciting a laugh from within you and bringing back a memory you had forgotten.

You were still slightly awed by the fact that the Hwang Hyun-jee invited you to spend summer with her. At a ski lodge. A fricking ski lodge! The shocking revelation that you could be considered cool enough to hang out with her and her brother were the thoughts in your head as you stared at the copy of Emma in your hands, pretending to read the text.

Beside you, you could hear the steady scratching of pencil against paper, interrupted only by the symphony of an eraser rubbing against the sheet. This little orchestra playing next to you was evidence of Hyunjin's existence, an art in itself if anyone asked you.

"You should teach me French," he asks you out of the blue, "For when if leave to go to Paris."

You look at him inquisitively. He told you that he got accepted into art school in Paris a few days ago. You did feel sad about the fact that he was going, but deep down you knew very well that practically, after this summer your interactions with Hyunjin would be few and far in between.

"You have Hyun-jee, she can teach you. If, that is, you can put up with her," you retort teasingly.

Hyunjin gives you a sly smirk, "That's exactly why I was asking you. I think I'll like your style of teaching better. And so, I want you to please, please, please teach me French."

You had no idea where this sudden newfound confidence to flirt with Hyunjin had bloomed within you but, oh well, you only live once. "Do you want me teaching you, or just me in general?"

"Ah," he said shaking his head regretfully with a smile, "Even though you have only known me for a few weeks, you already know me too well."

Butterflies ignite in your stomach, although you're pretty sure he was just playing along with you. You wonder what he's sketching, his bottom lip caught between his teeth and his eyes set in concentration. Even though you have a feeling it isn't, you sincerely hope it's you.

You don't know that your hopeful assumption was true.

A tightening in you chest starts to grow when the topic shifts to love. Earlier, talking to Hyunjin about love used to come as easy walking on your two feet. Now, it just hurts. He asked you if you were seeing someone. You promptly replied in the negative. You asked him if he was seeing someone. He reflected your answer back onto you.

But what did it really mean? You were always going to be bound in this life by that unspoken oath you made to Hyun-jee all those years ago. It wasn't even about love anymore, it was about not breaking another person's trust, a person who you held closer to your heart than most of your family.

You started thinking though. What was the point of hiding your feelings, old or not, from Hyunjin any longer? It wasn't like you could act on it, but you may as well have told him. Maybe then a huge weight from your chest would be released and you wouldn't be shackled by commitments, things you felt you owed to both of them.

"I don't think you know this but," your expression suddenly changed, "I used to have the biggest crush on you that summer."

"Used to?" At this point, Hyunjin is sitting up straight, eyeing you curiously. You roll your eyes and give him a playful slap on his arm. His expression, however, turns into one of regret. You begin to feel remorseful about telling him, paranoia settling in and molding itself into the fabric of who you were.

"That's a shame," he says quietly.

The air changes, charged with something you can't quite place. Hyunjin holds eye contact with you, unsaid words coursing through them. You never really believed in the phrase 'the eye is the window to the soul', but right now, you were terrified of whatever the hell your eyes were revealing to him right now. Hyunjin then proceeds to utter something, something so capable of infusing you with poisoned hope, that it takes your breath away.

"I think I would have loved loving you."

Time has stopped. Feelings of desperation, annihilation and most importantly, temptation, cascade in a whirlpool inside you. It had been years. This was wrong. This was the universe dangling temptation in front of you, urging you to just take a bite. Rebelliously, you wondered, what if you were selfish for one? Why were you feeling this way now?

"I think I would have loved being loved by you," you whisper back. Hyunjin's hand laces through yours and gives it a little squeeze in response.

That is when it dawns on you that Hyunjin is as confined in this matter as you, if not more. Hyun-jee is his sister for God's sake; whatever guilt you felt in wanting him, he must have felt tenfold in wanting you. You know exactly what the little squeeze he gave you signifies: It will pass. If it cannot be, it will cease.

And you know it's true because you and Hyunjin can never be 'us' or 'we' as long as you were present in this reality. You wished there was a universe somewhere, a parallel reality when Hyunjin and you were considered of one breath because to breath you would need him like oxygen.

Judging by his expression, he must have been drifting in thought about that too.

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Hyunjin was a hopeless romantic. Everyone he knew was painfully aware of that. He romanticized love in all it's aspects and yearned for it like a prerequisite for living. His standards were obnoxiously high though, and he had never met anyone even close to reaching them.

The thing was, Hyunjin didn't have high standards when it came to a romantic partner. He had high standards in what to expect during a relationship with said partner. Having never been in love himself, he could only witness it through other's experiences.

Until he had met you.

The first time he had seen you, you seemed unremarkable. Not in a rude way, of course, it was just that nothing about you really stood out to him that way. Hyunjin was a firm advocate of 'love at first sight' not being a logical concept. How on earth could you love someone without intertwining the fibers of being that made you with the strands of life that made them?

But then, when you walked into their hauntingly large ski lodge, your face full of wonder, Hyunjin felt an overwhelming calling of entrapping that moment forever. Your expression was so pure that is caught him off guard. He forgot what it was like to see some genuinely enjoy something. That night, he was sitting on his bed sketching something without any clear intention. The end result bore an uncanny resemblance to you.

Soon enough, the two of you began to spend exponentially increasing amounts of time together. Hyunjin was quite introverted, which was in stark contrast to the rest of his family. His mother used to also like spending her time in a lot, but nearly twenty five years of marriage to his father had definitely worn off on her.

The first time you stumbled into the library, you had audibly gasped. Hyunjin peered up, only his eyes visible, the rest of his face covered by the easel. When he saw that it was you, a small smile broke across his face and he sent you a wave, striking up a conversation with you and inviting you to sit down with him.

Hyunjin even knew exactly when realized that he had fallen in love with you. It was around a month into your three month stay with them. You were on the couch, laying down on your belly and Hyunjin was on a bean bag, munching on popcorn. You had a blanket covering you and a book in your hand, but your eyes stayed on Hyunjin as you both talked.

"I have a question," asked Hyunjin in between his mouthful of popcorn.

You rolled over into a position of sitting, legs crossed underneath you. "Before you ask, my interpretation of the meaning of life is pining for Michael B. Jordan against all odds. Blame Hyun-jee for forcing his movies down my throat and coming to me about her daily rants about how he is the only exception to her sexuality and how she would elope with him in a heartbeat."

Hyunjin shook his head with a laugh and passed you the bowl of popcorn. Having been on the receiving end of the conversation one too many times himself, he could quote Michael B. Jordan's monologue from Black Panther nearly perfectly.

"What I actually wanted to ask was whether or not you're happy with what you plan on studying in the future," Hyunjin asked curiously. You always avoided the topic of this, reiterating your love for Science time and again but always talking about how you planned on taking an English course on the side while in university.

At his question, your face fell a little bit. "Oh, well," you said sadly, "Truthfully, not really. But it's what my parents want me to do. I figured that if I did what they wanted me to do, then my sisters could be given a little more freedom at what they wanted to do."

Hyunjin's lips slightly parted, turning over your words in his head. Your selflessness really hit home, especially when he was so extremely selfish. He suddenly felt like he didn't belong to even be in your presence, and yet cherished it nonetheless.

"I have always been so adamant about becoming an artist that I never thought that it could lead to Hyun-jee potentially thinking that she doesn't have an option other than taking over the company," fell Hyunjin's confession from his lips. His eyes swirled with shame.

"If I'm being honest, she might have felt that way initially, but she truly loves the business Hyunjin," you told him comfortingly.

"You're a good person," he whispered to you softly.

"I'm not," you laughed condescendingly, "I'm really not."

Hyunjin's heart broke when those words flew out of your mouth. He wished he saw yourself at the standard that he did. But his heart pieced back together when he realized that he loved you. The realization dawned upon him when it hit him that your laugh, in no matter which context, seemed to lull him like a siren's call and draw him towards.

Later that day, Hyunjin called up seven of his closest friends to lament about his unfortunate predicament. He had all the textbook symptoms: gazing at you when you didn't notice, making up excuses just to be close to you and turning a fire hydrant reminiscent shade or red whenever he was near you (to the point where you would often end enquiring about his health).

"You are down bad in love," declared Changbin over the phone. Hyunjin decided against telling him that he had self-diagnosed himself before seeking anyone else's consul.

Hyunjin wasn't blind either though. He knew you felt something towards and although he couldn't quite pinpoint whether is bordered on love or like, he was quite content with simply knowing. It was extremely evident to him, in the way you began stuttering when he started flirting with you and the blush that would creep up your neck (albeit less pathetically obvious as his) when his fingers would accidentally or otherwise brush against yours.

He knew though, that blushes and wandering eyes was all your relationship ever could be.

He loved you, but by extension he loved his sister more. The night she came home to him, eyes puffy from crying and making him swear that he would never date one of her friends in the occasion that she ever did make a real one.

In that moment, Hyunjin made an oath encased in salty tears and bruised emotions that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

When you stopped coming to the library to squander away your time with Hyunjin, he knew he should have expected it. If you hadn't initiated the distance, then he would have been the one to do so, knowing it to be imperative when Hyun-jee questioned him on the nature of the both of yours's relationship.

He couldn't create anything, however. It was like your presence was what gave him the patience and creativity to actually go through with fishing a piece of art. He was frightened to death at the prospect of never being able to make something again if you weren't there.

Slowly, he realized that that wasn't actually the case. He could still paint, still draw, because he found love and emotions in so many other places.

Hyunjin found love in the way dewdrops beaded flowers, he found love in the cobblestoned alleyways of Paris and in the steaming mug of Americano he would drink every morning. He came to understand that he could pull inspiration from any love, romantic or otherwise.

But all of them paled in comparison to the love he held for you.

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five months before.

You were lounging in Hyun-jee and her girlfriend, Reina's apartment, which was practically your second home. The three of you went to the same university, one of the most prestigious in Seoul, and were quite a formidable trio. Hyun-jee was studying in business school, you were studying bio-chemistry and Reina was a lawyer in the making.

People had a tendency to stay away from the three of you.

You were sitting cross-legged on the floor of their apartment, back resting against the leather couch. Reina was in the shower and Hyun-jee scrolled on her phone. You gazed at the blank wall, completely zoning out from reality.

"Oh," Hyun-jee said with a small smirk, "Hyunjin is coming over."

You tried to hide your surprise and anticipation. Excitement brewed a sickly solution within you as Hyun-jee caught your eye and sent a wink your way, signaling that she would be teasing her brother mercilessly upon his arrival.

Her grin faltered, however, when she her eyes went to her screen which lit up with yet another text message, presumably from Hyunjin.

"Oh. He's bringing a girl."

At that, you jerked your head up to Hyun-jee's, leaving your task of picking at your nails behind. She just gave you a shrug, indicating that she had no idea about any of this either. You studied Hyun-jee's reaction to this carefully. If anything she seemed unfazed.

Jealousy and anger pooled within you. You wished that it was you who Hyunjin was bringing, which was absolutely absurd because you were already in Hyun-jee's apartment. The girl he was bringing would probably be beautiful. At least, far more than you.

In the events that followed leading up to Hyunjin's arrival, you were halfway here and halfway not. Reina had come out of the shower, Hyun-jee had ordered some food, Reina had put on a movie, Hyun-jee had given her a kiss; everything happened around you presently, but you yourself weren't present.

Oh. He's bringing a girl.

You resorted to biting your lip anxiously, drawing blood even. Ah well. Small problems compared to the things people have to face all over the world on the daily. But it should have been duly noted that your small problems felt gigantic to you.

Sighing and attempting to kill time, you decided to be extremely unproductive and watch a romcom. They really did help make up for the lack of romance in your life (as if). Eventually, however, you got bored and instead switched your screen to watch a zombie movie.

You were sitting on one of the three barstools that lined the marble island countertop. Your hands were propped up on your elbows and you had managed to precariously balance your phone against a jar of strawberry jam.

You heard the doorbell ring amidst the screams coming from your earphones. Quickly stuffing away your phone in your pocket in the name of courtesy, you cupped your chin with your hand.

Reina went to open the door and in waltzed Hyunjin in all his glory followed by, yep, only the most drop dead gorgeous woman you had ever seen.

He quickly made introductions, introducing her as Ellie. You avoided Hyunjin's eyes like the plague as you offered her a smile that you hoped looked genuine because it most certainly was not.

Ellie was extremely sweet. She even brought cookies. Ellie laughed and smiled and made herself feel comfortable. You laughed and smiled and contemplated what life would be like in jail if you committed murder.

You couldn't help it. Jealousy came to you in waves inhibiting your sense of everything and clouding your judgement. You hoped the scowl on your face wasn't obvious as you offered to go bring plates for the pizza in an attempt to excuse yourself from the conversation taking place.

"Oppa," nudged Hyun-jee, "Go help her."

Hyunjin stood up and approached you the way one approached a hungry tiger. His smile was warm and inviting but his eyes reflected well deserved caution. He attempted at making conversation with you but you only answered with nods and hums.

Eventually, he just gave up and sat on a bar stool sprinkling seasoning over the freshly delivered pizza. "I'm surprised you got your girlfriend here," you broke the silence, the snark in your voice painfully audible.

"Why?" Hyunjin's eyes trailed up from his tedious task and surveyed you carefully.

"Well, after our conversation that night..."

Irritation flashed in Hyunjin's eyes. "Not all of us can pine over someone we know we can never be with," he huffed.

You blinked for a second, something suspiciously wet prickling the depths of your eyes. What? To him, this might have been just a casual passing comment. To you, this was venom, seeping into your heart and poisoning it.

"Maybe if I didn't have unreasonably high standards of love, I would be better at holding onto it," you rebutted harshly without even thinking about the consequences of what you had said.

Hyunjin's face wore the undeniable expression of shock. In the heat of the moment, you felt almost angry at him. How could he say something so cruel and not expect you to give a befitting reply in return?

Then, the effect of your entire conversation weighed upon you. Gasping at your insolence, you turned around and felt a drop of water slide down the side of your cheek. You wondered if Hyunjin's eyes became a catchment area for tears the way yours did, pushing violently to be let out in a torrent.

Afterwards, you barely spoke to anyone. Quickly eating a slice of the unfortunately delicious pizza, you cited sickness as a reason to not be a present of the lovely and suicidal thought inducing situation you were stuck in.

Making a mental note to ask Hyun-jee where she ordered the pizza from, you headed home, thinking and over thinking your conversation with Hyunjin. The entire scene replayed in your head multiple times but one thought was annoyingly persistent: You went from loving Hyunjin, to somewhat professing said love for him, to giving him very, very good reason to despise you.

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the day of.

Hyun-jee was finally turning a year older and after spending her last six birthdays in the comfort of only you and Reina, this year she was planning a lavish one week beach getaway. All her closest friends were coming which honestly wasn't a lot: just you, Hyunjin, Reina and one of Hyun-jee's cousin's and her boyfriend.

You hoped that tensions would be alleviated between you and Hyunjin considering that you both hadn't communicated a word to each other since the mini argument you both had five months ago. Surprisingly enough, Hyunjin broke up with his girlfriend a few weeks ago, after only a short two months of dating.

You gulped in fear at the thought of you and Hyunjin being the only single people on the trip. Mustering up courage nonetheless, you sat in the taxi that was taking you on the way to the resort lobby where you would meet the others.

Sitting in the car, you decided to try and get some more writing for dissertation done. You already had all your research and citations compiled; all you had to do was type it all up and submit it. Hell, you even had your thoughts in order, but every time you opened up that blank document and watched the cursor blinking at you, all your motivation vanished into thin air.

Not wanting to put yourself through any more torture, you decided to open up your phone and scroll aimlessly through social media. The thought of a beach getaway excited you. After working to death's end for the last few months, you knew you had earned a well deserved break.

When the taxi pulled up to the resort, you got out and closed your eyes at the salty breeze that hit your face. You didn't care that the wind blowing around did not, in fact, make your hair look like it was in a shampoo commercial and instead made it look like the individual strands were having a seizure. The cool air was a welcome contrast to the stuffy interior of the airplane and subsequent taxi you had taken to get here.

You walked into the large reception lobby, trying not to gasp at the sight in front of you. Large potted plants lined the walkway with a humongous fountain of an angel in the middle. Golf carts whizzed around you and servers carrying bottles of champagne and rose offered you kind smiles.

Noticing that Hyun-jee and the other's had just arrived then, you raced up to her, lugging your suitcase behind you. Hyun-jee face lit up as soon as she saw you. Throwing her hands around your neck and pulling you in for a hug, the two of you giggled after she stumbled on a stray pebble. Giving everyone else a warm grins and nods, your eyes met Hyunjin and he offered you a tight smile in acknowledgement.

This was going to be a long week.

Hyun-jee walked up to the receptionist to ask for all of yours's rooms. While she was busy with that, you took out your phone and clicked pictures of everything. You never really posted pictures like these (or any in general), rarely ever active on sites like Instagram unless the occasion called for obsessive internet stalking (which you were questionably amazing at). Instead, you sent all these pictures to your sisters, mostly to make them feel jealous because that was a very older sibling-like thing to do.

Snorting at your youngest sister's almost instantaneous response, which was a string of emojis containing mostly eye-roll emojis, you didn't notice Hyun-jee walk back to the group. You noticed the worried expression on her face, taking in her knitted eyebrows. She had been spending a lot of time sorting out the reservation with the receptionist.

"Guys, I'm really sorry but turns out I forgot to reserve the rooms and I'm so sorry and-"

"Breathe, Hyun-jee," Hyunjin cut her off and placed his hand on her right shoulder.

Hyun-jee took a deep breath, the guilt simmering in her eyes. She sneaked a quick glance at you for reassurance and you notedly obliged, shooting her a thumbs up.

Hyun-jee was nothing short of a perfectionist. Lately, she had been spending literal days at her office, wrapping up an important business deal. Always having everything planned, always knowing the exact details of everything was something she prided herself on.

"So- so here's the thing. I have booked three rooms right now which are on the same floor. Two of them have one bedroom and the third-" Hyun-jee slowly glanced at you and Hyunjin, "And the third is one room but with two beds."

Oh, so then you would still be able to stay here. Perfect. Oh. You would have to share a room with Hyunjin.

Hyun-jee looked at the both of you nervously, gauging your reactions. You hadn't told her about your petty little conversation with Hyunjin and assumed that he hadn't either. His eyes widened with shock and met yours, but a wave of understanding passed through the both of you: you would tolerate it because it was Hyun-jee's birthday and she was the priority here.

"Is that okay?" Hyun-jee stuttered softly.

Reina had walked over to Hyun-jee and wrapped her arms around her waist. Hyun-jee's cousin, Byeol, assured her that the arrangement was just fine.

Not wanting to worry Hyun-jee further, Hyunjin hastily replied, "Yes, yes, of course."

You spared him a glance before your eyes went to Hyun-jee's once again, and with a smile you hoped did not look stressed, you added on, "Yep. I mean, it's just a week, isn't it?"

Hyun-jee let out a sigh of relief and reached out to give your hand a squeeze. Absentmindedly, you gave her a distracted smile. Your mind was on other things, Hwang Hyunjin and the prospect of sharing a room with him at the forefront of your long train of thought.

It would be fine, right? After all, there were two beds. And as absurd as the entire situation was, you had read enough romcoms and watched enough Hallmark movies to know that the real problems only began when there was just one bed. Which there wasn't. Unfortunately.

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Hyunjin had graciously offered you to take a shower first. Stripping bare, you felt the lukewarm water hit your skin as you went through the itinerary of the day ahead in your brain again.

1: Lunch at a cute rooftop restaurant that Hyun-jee had (for real this time), reserved.

2: Coming back to the resort get changed into your bathing suits.

3: Fulfilling the 'beach' part of the beach getaway.

4: Sleep, maybe.

5: Bonfire dinner!

You came out of the shower wearing tank tops and jeans shorts, a wet towel in your hand. Hyunjin strewn was on his bed (closer to the door), texting someone, or in his case, multiple someones. You assumed it was a group chat because the screen lit up with a notification numerous times.

The sight of Hyunjin biting his lip to stop himself from bursting out in laughter while wearing nothing but (at least you assumed it was nothing) a bathrobe did things to you that most definitely should not have been done.

For the sake of your sanity, you cleared you throat as a sign of banishing Hyunjin to the shower. He gave you a nod, grabbed his towel, and walked away. You let out a sigh and after hanging your towel on the balcony railing, dramatically fell onto your bed.

Hyunjin hadn't really told you much after you both entered the room. He only offered to let you shower first. You were brushing your hair and humming in partial contentment. You had resulted against washing your hair, knowing you would wash it again after coming back from the beach.

You're Taylor Swift album marathon was rudely, in you humble opinion, interrupted by the sound of a door opening. You were met, however, with an ethereal looking Hwang Hyunjin, fresh out of a shower. Beads of water hung to his neck and the tips of his hair. You were overcoming by an extremely concerning urge to lick them off.

Although Hyunjin was currently very aggressively wiping his hair with his towel, he had a smirk on his face, an obvious indication of him noticing you checking out. You looked away with a cough and a blush. Hyunjin fell onto his bed with an oomf and laid on his back while playing games on his phone.

You decided to break the ice wall erected between the two of you by blurting out, "I'm sorry for what I said that night. You didn't deserve to here any of that."

Hyunjin looked up from his phone in surprise. He studied you for a moment. Hyunjin finally broke the agonizing silence. "Likewise. I genuinely apologize for anything I may have said that night," he hesitated, "Does this mean that we can go back to normal?"

You gave him a small smile and a nod, although you knew just as well as him that there was no 'we' to go back to normal too.

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All throughout lunch, you failed at acknowledging the close proximity between you and Hyunjin. He sat next to you because, who was he to sit with somebody else's significant other? His thigh was pressed against yours and his fingers brushed yours over and over again.

"So, um, I heard about your breakup. How have you been holding up?" you asked. You wanted a gauge on how depressing your de facto roommate would act over the week.

"Oh," he responded nonchalantly, "I never really saw it as a relationship. We just weren't compatible at all."

Your brain processed his words as your eyes trailed the plate of seafood kebabs being brought to your table. You were in the process of eating one when Hyunjin added, "I think I might actually like someone else, and I'm not one for emotional cheating."

It's safe to say that the hot sauce you dipped the kebab in went down the wrong pipe.

After that tantalizingly long endeavor you had just undertaken, you were back in the comfort of your hotel room. You and Hyunjin decided that you would change in the bathroom while he would change in the actual room itself.

You had absolutely no intention of actually getting into the ocean water. It was getting late (yes, you considered three in the afternoon late) and you were not a big fan of swimming, despite having learnt it when you were younger. Your outfit was extremely simple, consisting of a sage green crop top, white long flowy skirt, a pair of sandals and finally a cute tote bag to store your camera, books and other essentials.

Stepping out of the bathroom, you did a little twirl to check if the skirt was spin worthy. Hyunjin watched you with a smile and give you a small clap after you were done. You blushed profusely, his existence somehow (?!) completely slipping from your mind.

"You look beautiful," said Hyunjin kindly with a wide smile.

"So do you," you replied breathlessly.

Hyunjin looked effortlessly attractive in a white button up that was half untucked and loose black pants. The first button was undone and you could see a shark bone necklace perfect encapsulated in the dip of his collarbone.

You were imagining how it would feel to run your fingers along it when Hyunjin asked, "Don't plan on swimming? I know I don't."

"Nope," you replied sheepishly as you both walked out the hotel door, "I actually have a fear of the ocean, as embarrassing as it sounds."

"It isn't embarrassing. I get nightmares about carrots," Hyunjin confessed with a shudder. You snickered at his words.

Hyunjin's hand lightly held your arm and guided you towards the right direction. The feel of his skin on yours completely wiped away your initial mortification at walking in the completely opposite direction.

He dropped your arm as spontaneously as he held it and you both stood awkwardly in the lobby, waiting for Hyun-jee and Reina. Byeol wasn't feeling well (she could come up with a better excuse) so her and her boyfriend went ahead with the decision of staying in.

The four of you walked out the resort in animated chatter. Being more of a listener yourself, you took a backseat as Hyunjin and Hyun-jee wildly gesticulated about work, life and (for some reason) the benefits of chocolate milk. Reina passed you a knowing smile; the two siblings once brought together could not shut up for the life of them.

You noticed Hyun-jee hanging back. She waited for you to catch up to her and said, "I'm sorry about the arrangement. It can't be easy for you."

You looked at her questioningly, "Why wouldn't it be easy?"

"Well, you both don't really know each other that well. To top it all off, Hyune oppa stopped seeing that Ellie girl. He hasn't been moping around much, probably because it only lasted like a month."

Hyun-jee paused and continued in a whisper, "I think she was more into him than he was into her."

You just laugh with a shake of your head and run up to Reina, throwing an arm around her shoulder. Through the corner of your eye, you see Hyunjin observing the three of you with a sad smile. You instantly feel guilt at leaving him out, even though the three of you were close friends long before Hyunjin came into the picture.

When you finally reach the beach, everyone settles into their designated role. Reina and Hyun-jee play volleyball with a bunch of locals while you and Hyunjin retreated under a covered cabana. Hyunjin sat on one side of it, sketching on his sketch pad, while you laid down on the other side, indulging in a mystery thriller.

Old habits really do die hard.

You turned to look at Hyunjin. The expression of concentration on his face was still the same. His hair was longer now though, and locks of it fell into his eyes. You felt the urge to push it away and subconsciously, ended up doing so.

He looked up at you. "Oh, um, your hair, I-" you stammered incoherently.

Hyunjin let out a chuckle. "It's fine. Thank you."

He turned back to his unfinished sketch and you put your book back in your tote bag. Wanting to stretch your legs, you noticed a dock like structure stretching out over the vast expanse of sea. Hyun-jee beckoned you towards her and the two of you set off to take pictures near that dock.

It felt slippery, at first, but eventually, you and Hyun-jee caught your balance. The farther out you went, the deeper was the ocean. The colors all blended to create beautiful hues of blue. They eerily mimicked the same hues that you currently were living in.

Hyun-jee's arms were full of shells, multicolored and all shaped differently. You both were so engrossed in picking at them that you didn't notice that you almost reached the end of the dock. Your sandal got caught on one of the stray nails.

And then you slipped.

And then you fell.

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Funnily enough, the only thought in your mind while you were falling was how the whistling of the wind sounded like that of a tea kettle. You had only heard the sound of a tea kettle once before, at your grandmother's house. Your mom decided to take out the old blue kettle that laid forgotten under the stove and decided to whip up some chamomile tea with it.

What an odd thing to reminisce about.

After what felt like hours, your body hit the water. The screams you were initially hearing were now muffled. Water attacked you, dragging you downwards. You did learn how to swim, but your body felt like it was made up of bricks and lead, not skin and bones.

Instinctively, you closed your eyes and tried to throw your hands up. In an attempt to get an intake of breath, you opened your mouth. What a stupid mistake. Seawater and other substances flooded into your mouth. Bile rose up but you couldn't close your mouth. When you finally could, you were compelled to close it.

You felt your brain separate from your body, as if you were just watching what was happening and weren't present in the situation. All sense of time was gone. You had never felt more helpless and locked out of your body before. Tears streamed down your face, but it didn't matter because all of you was drenched anyways.

You felt your consciousness slip, and felt a peculiar serenity that you had never felt before. You were floating out of your body now, your mind keenly observing the vessel that was once you, flailing about like a fish out of water.

How ironic.

People said that drowning was the worst way to die.

Wait, what? What were you even thinking?

You were dying.

No. No, you couldn't die. There was so much left for you to see, to experience. You wanted a stable job, a family. You wanted to taste what a snickerdoodle cookie was like and wanted to see Olivia Rodrigo in concert. But most of all, you wanted to live.

Life was so beautiful. All the dips and highs and small straight lines made it an endless rollercoaster, yes, but it was a ride you were not ready to get off yet. If you lived after this, you told yourself, you would be selfish and do what you wanted.

You wanted to submit your thesis and and stand on that podium, certificate in hand. You wanted to go on a date with Hyunjin and did not care about whoever objected otherwise. You wanted to be Hyun-jee's bridesmaid when she and Reina got married in San Diego. You wanted to tell your parents you loved them and wanted to watch your sisters grow up.

You wanted, and wanted, and wanted and that was enough to keep you some kind of awake and alert.

You felt a pair of arms around your waist and another hoisting you up. Concerned chatter and sighs of relief were sounds that managed to seep through the thrumming in your ears. Opening your eyes and letting it adjust to the light, you collapsed onto the dock. You threw up whatever was inside of you, feeling someone patting your back.

Somebody helped you stand up, since you were still shaken up by the whole incident. You could see a small crowd on the actual beach and a drenched Reina in front of you. Hyunjin must have been the one holding you up then.

Hyun-jee face was frozen in shock, eyes still glued to the place where you had fallen. When she finally looked up at you, she let out a choked sob, and eventually a torrent of tears fell from her eyes. Watching her cry made you cry, as you were gently tugged back to the beach by Hyunjin.

He sat you down on the edge of the cabana you both had occupied earlier. A lifeguard was rushing over to you, checking vitals and making sure you weren't having any problems with your breath. After you felt like you were in a sober state capable to answer questions, you rattled off responses in a monotonous tone.

"Considering she was in the water for just under a minute," confirmed the lifeguard, "She should be fine."

Worry was still etched on everyone's faces though, frustrating you. You were not okay, and you knew that. Not being okay after such an incident was to be expected of you. But you were not okay in a way that couldn't be helped by them. You had no such severe physical injuries or major repercussions; but mentally?

You weren't quite sure your mind was even yours.

You assured everyone that you were okay over and over again. Hyunjin grabbed a blanket from a kind family also on vacation, offering you some water and hydrated salts as well. After thanking them profusely, you stumbled into the taxi that Hyun-jee had booked. While Hyun-jee and Reina stayed behind to file formalities with the local authorities, Hyunjin volunteered to take you back to the hotel room.

The entire sequences of events left you so dazed, that you couldn't even process what was happening. Sitting in the taxi and reflecting on what happened finally allowed the physical effects of almost drowning to settle deep into your bones.

It started with the shivering, your body uncontrollably shaking. You could feel someone's arms - Hyunjin's - wrap around you and start rubbing your sides. Then came to coughing, your throat parched and desperate for water. Through it all though, your mind stayed fixed at one point.

There was a light. And peace. So much peace it felt nearly unnatural.

You began sobbing. Your head was throbbing and the entire world felt dizzy. Hot tears streamed down your face. You could feel some rubbing circles on your back, hear someone comforting you. But you weren't present in the situation itself. Words blended into white noise and everything hurt.

The entire time, from Hyunjin helping you out of the car to Hyun-jee clearing the way to your hotel room, your brain was on autopilot. It wasn't that you were thinking about something else; you just couldn't think. You wanted silence and quiet.

As soon as Hyunjin closed the door, you slumped against it, dragging Hyunjin down with you. You entire body was still covered in water, but you didn't care. You couldn't even take in complete breaths; the lack of dryness on your skin didn't even occur to you.

Hyunjin put his chin on your head and whispered, "Just breathe. It'll all be over soon."

As your breathing and heart rate slowed, you became distinctly aware of the fact that you were currently covered in dirty water and the pee of aquatic animals. Breaking away from Hyunjin's comforting hold, you let out an incoherent string of words, grabbed the first pair of pajamas you could find, and staggered into the bathroom.

Throwing off your clothes with a newfound urgency to feel dry and clean, you stepped into the shower and let out a tired sigh as soon as the hot droplets hit you repeatedly. It was a startling contrast to the unchanging sensation of cold you were locked in for the past thirty minutes (at least that was what you assumed it was, considering your knowledge of time itself was currently fucked). Feeling your muscles loosening underneath you, you made the blunder of closing you eyes.

As soon as you did, the water now sliding down your naked skin felt all too similar to the water that nearly took your life.

You were drowning again, literally in water and figuratively in despair. You reached out for help, screamed until your voice went hoarse. The light was coming for you, luminescent orbs turning into menacing vessels of death. But nobody came. And the terrifying reality was, nobody would.

Tripping over the shower cubicle, you lunged for your towel and scrubbed your skin until it was red and raw. Even a single drop of water felt like acid on your skin. In you haste to put on your clothes, you forgot to turn the shower on. Mustering your courage, you reached to turn the knob and made sure that no part of your body contacted anything other than a dry surface.

When you teetered over the elevated surface of the bathroom an soon as you opened the door, Hyunjin was already there to steady you.

"I'll dry your hair," he offered.

You nodded, still mum, and sat down on Hyunjin's bed. You noticed that he had changed into a white cotton shirt and gray sweatpants. Hyunjin leaned over to plug in the hairdryer. Coaxing you into turning around, his hands wove through your hair and nearly rocked you to sleep.

"Hyunjin," you whispered deliriously, "I feel safe in your arms."

You must have been really tired because you completely missed his response.

"And I feel safe knowing you are in my arms."

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After Hyunjin had dried your hair, he helped you onto your bed. You had fallen asleep due to the sheer weight of your exhaustion. Hyunjin promised that he would be in the room, not leaving for a second. Your eyes shut and you slept for almost four hours.

When you woke up, it was late. The sky was no longer colored light blue, but instead shone a dark navy. You turned over your phone on the nightstand.

9:00 PM

"Hyun-jee came over," Hyunjin said.

You turned around to see him watching a drama on his phone. His hair was tussled, as if he had run his hands through it repeatedly. His eyes looked tired and his body looked weary but his smile was like a peek of sunlight on an unreasonably cloudy day.

"She left some noodles for you," he motioned towards the large Styrofoam box on the little coffee table in your room.

You snatched up and hungrily began eating. "Thanks," you said between mouthfuls.

"No problem. You should be thanking Hyun-jee."

"I will."

"Do you want to watch something?"

"Okay."

Hyunjin started a new drama for the both of you to watch. The only sounds in the room were noises from his laptop and your slow chewing. You were grateful that Hyunjin didn't press whenever you replied half heartedly or with one word.

It was such a paradoxical situation, the one you were stuck in. A mere ten hours ago, the thought of him being in close proximity almost drew you to insanity. Now, his steady presence was the only thing keeping you grounded.

Fate truly is fickle.

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You woke up from your slumber with a start, sweat soaking through your clothes and onto your bedsheets. You were breathing heavily, so much that your lungs were hurting. Beside you, you could hear Hyunjin stirring in his sleep.

You chest was constricted and your breathing was shallowed. Ugly tears inched slowly, down your cheeks. Your hands were shaking and your vision was blurry.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm here now."

"I'm fine, I'm fine," you whispered to Hyunjin in the darkness.

"No," he said firmly, "You clearly aren't. Let me help you. Please."

You gave him a nod, which he probably didn't see in the darkness. Leaning over to turn on the table lamp nestled between the two beds, with a small click, the entire room was eliminated.

"Nightmare?"

"Yes. Sorry for disturbing you."

"Don't be."

Hyunjin started humming something into your hair, making you feel drowsy. Sleep was coming in waves, but you refused to close your eyes. Fighting to keep them open, you tried to place why whatever Hyunjin was humming sounded so familiar. Finally, you realized it.

"Oh my god," you snorted, "Are you humming the Sofia the First theme song right now?"

"Shh," he giggled, "Let me honor Sofia in peace."

You nestled into him more comfortable and felt his head fall onto yours. Slowly, he pulled you down onto the bed.

"Do you mind is I sleep?" he questioned.

"No," you replied, "Just please keep holding me."

He placed a soft kiss on your cheek in response and comfortably placed his head on the crook of your neck. Soon enough, melodious snores (how do even his snores sound attractive?) filled the silence in the room. You could do this forever.

Oh. You could do this forever.

But you didn't have forever. What you had was tantalizingly short in the grand scheme of things. And nearly dying had really put things into perspective. You might not have forever, but you have now. And ideally, now was all you needed.

But what would Hyun-jee think?

Except, did it really matter what she thought? She was your best friend, she had seen pieces of you that you hadn't shown anyone. If anybody would understand, it would be Hyun-jee. You began to question yourself. Was it really Hyun-jee you were scared of, or something else entirely?

Putting the blame on Hyun-jee for stopping yourself from pursuing Hyunjin was so easy. The truth was, you were frightened. Hyun-jee's opinion had nothing to do with it whatsoever.

You were so scared of the consequences after the falling apart of a relationship, that you were hesitant to be in one in the first place. The prospect of heartbreak and it's accompanying nastiness petrified you to the point where you were blind to the beauty of being in a relationship.

Your situation was pathetic really. You were pathetic. It wasn't even a paradoxical situation of unrequited love where you were hopelessly head over heels in love with Hyunjin and he couldn't have cared otherwise. He liked you back, at one point, may even have loved you back.

After tossing and turning, you finally came to one decision you were determined to go through with.

That night, you didn't sleep for two reasons: fear of drowning in the ocean and anticipation to drown in Hyun-jee's.

"Good morning angel," he yawned, "Did you get any sleep?"

"No," you gulped.

"Well that's to bad," he mumbled against you neck.

His hair tickled your face and you began second guessing whether or not you should really do this. Hyunjin blinked once, slowly, as if taking in his surroundings. When he probably realized where he was, he got up with a start.

"Shit, I had no idea I was this close to you. I'm really sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable and-"

"I like you," you blurted out. "I like you and I want to date you. I know you like me as well and I love Hyun-jee, but I want to experience loving you."

You looked down shyly as Hyunjin's jaw dropped. He cupped his hand around your cheeks and replied breathlessly, "Oh thank goodness. I would kiss you but you just survived a traumatic event and my breath probably stinks."

You opened you mouth to respond but ended up yawning instead. Hyunjin visibly held back his laughter and you playfully hit his arm.

You gave him a side-eye and he pulled you back into bed again, tickling you in the process. You shoved him and he laughed at you and by the end of it, you were so out of breath and so happy, that a part of you forgot that you very well may not have been here today.

You didn't have forever, but you had Hyunjin and that was enough.

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epilogue.

You put your bags down on the wooden floor with an animated 'oof!' while you once again took in the grandeur of the Hwang family ski lodge. You were back again, invited (this time by Hyunjin) to spend the summer with the Hwangs.

Everything was coming full circle, wasn't it?

Hyunjin's mother approached you with a smile on her face. She pulled you in for a tight hug, her perfume attacking your senses.

"How have you been, my child?" Her hair was pinned up to perfection and her skin was flawless.

"Really good," you told her excitedly, filling her in on all the gossip that was taking place at your university.

She listened to you keenly and once you finished, she told you, "Oh, Hyunjin is in his room, by the way."

She shot you a wink and you felt like you would melt out of embarrassment.

"I didn't know he told you," you said sheepishly.

"He didn't have to," his mother laughed.

Mothers. Their powers were strong enough to make the childhood version of you believe they were psychic.

You bounded up the familiar stairs to Hyunjin's room. Not bothering to knock (what's the worst he could be? naked?), you rushed inside and fell dramatically onto his bed. Hyunjin regarded you with a hint of fear at you sudden entrance.

Turning over on your stomach to face him, you announced with an air of superiority, "I did it."

That could only mean one thing in this context.

Hyunjin's eyes widened. "You did it? You submitted your dissertation?" he asked in awe.

You nodded enthusiastically and brought your face close to his. "I'm yours for the next three months now."

Hyunjin pouted, "I thought you already were mine."

You rolled your eyes at him and pulled him in for a long awaited kiss. It was to no avail however; you both were smiling against each other's lips so much that it wasn't quite a kiss.

Breaking away, you were about to settle in next to Hyunjin when you told him, "It feels weird though. Not having to do anything. Does that make sense?"

"If you say it, it makes sense. And if I happen to think it does not, I will attempt to look at it from your perspective. Regardless of either situation though, I will accept it because I love you, and that to me is what love is. Unwavering dedication and acceptance," Hyunjin replied with ease.

You felt your heart stutter. He was the first to say he loved you, two weeks ago under a dimly lit bookstore you were in. Hyunjin was said he knew the moment you gave him a smile and he realized, it was a smile you only presented in front of him.

"I love you too, dork," you said cheekily.

Hyunjin had shown you shades of love that you could never escape from. Every little action of his encompassed love. From the small smiles he always sent your way to the way he tucked your hair behind your ear and always carried extra rubber bands for you, Hyunjin was love personified

"I'm here!" came the unmistakable voice of Hyun-jee.

You and Hyunjin exchanged a glance. You had decided that it would be best to tell Hyun-jee about the relationship as soon as possible. Hiding your relationship from her for three months seemed like a mammoth endeavor.

After finding Hyun-jee wolfing down cookies in the kitchen and giving her a customary bear hug, you gave her a nervous laugh.

"Wosh? You bosh look like you neesh to chell me shomething."

"Ew," whined Hyunjin, "Chew first."

Hyun-jee swallowed and said, "You both look like you're hiding something from me. You didn't break something I own, right?"

"Actually," you hesitated and Hyunjin gave you a small nod of encouragement, "We did have to tell you something. Hyunjin and I... we have been dating for the last two, two and a half months."

You let out a slow breath, gauging Hyun-jee's reaction. Her eyes widened and her eyebrows knitted. You could see her visibly tensing and take in a shallow intake of breath.

Shock slowly settled into Hyun-jee's features. "How long?"

"Well technically since we were eighteen, but we were scared of your reaction and-" you gave Hyunjin a small kick to his shin. He ruffled your hair back.

"So, you are telling me that you both have liked each other for that long but decided not to do anything about it because you were scared of me?" Hyun-jee marvelled.

"Well, yes-"

"Oh my god," Hyun-jee laughed, "You both are so dense. Do you know how much I have been rooting for this relationship? Hell, I even booked one room for the two of you as soon as I realized that I forgot."

"You did that on purpose?" you were reeling from the revelation.

All of your belief that you would have to choose between friendship of love came crashing down. Relief washed over you and a sob that was lodged in your throat finally found release.

Hyun-jee and you went back and forth until Hyunjin finally put an end to the conversation. "These," he declared picking up the tin of cookies that Hyun-jee was previously snacking on, "Are mine."

He proceeded to run out of the kitchen as Hyun-jee chased him with a spatula, screaming bloody murder. After the siblings finally calmed down, all three of you collapsed onto the large couch in the middle of the lounge. Looking at your friends, your family, made you realize that you were loved.

Maybe, falling in love wasn't so bad. Yes, you fell. You fell hard and soft, you fell with your hands bloodied and the sensation of flying. You fell, but Hyunjin was there to catch you. And as he assured you over and over again, he would always be there to catch you.

Hyunjin laced his hands through yours and gave it a squeeze. This time, it was a promise. A promise of whatever eternity you both had left that would be spent together. A promise to love through the light and the dark.

A promise to be each other's first and last loves.

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ghostofhyuck · 11 months ago

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NCT Dream on their honeymoon!

AN: someone requested this one. GASP, THANK U. Mentions of sex lol because what's a honeymoon without sex. (Implied that you two already did it, but the first night meant having sex as a married couple, why am I explaining this jksdfkjsdk)

Mark Lee

Mark would probably take you somewhere in America. Probably LA or Miami, somewhere in the coastal area. Just you two enjoying the beach and spending the day at the carnival or fair land. You two are young lovers enjoying the night life in America! It'll be full of alcohol, giggles, and just spontaneous foodtrip! You two will book an airbnb with the cutest and coziest interior design. Also the first night would probably be more intimate and you two are nervous but at the same time, clumsy because you two wouldn't stop laughing ?? as if you two didn't fucked before lol.

Huang Renjun

Since your wedding with Renjun is during the summer or spring season, he would definitely take you to Japan for the honeymoon. It'll be during the cherry blossom season! It's cute and something about seeing the first bloom makes it exciting for both of you. You two will book a nice expensive hotel room and just spent the duration of the honeymoon sightseeing and of course, taking pictures around cherry blossoms trees. The first night with him is just like the first time you two had sex, but this time, you two are now married and much experienced. So it's much more special!

Lee Jeno

Jeno would take you to Japan too because he knows how much you love the culture there. He'll book a nice traditional house, (for the vibe he said.) and just take you to places like Tokyo Disneyland and Ghibli museum because you're a child at heart! He'll enjoy it too of course! You two also did A LOT of shopping. Also his looks are so exquisite, very tourist husband vibes with the shades and camera. OKAY so the first night with him is VERY much intimate, like you two just sitting in front of each other before you tell him to please take care of you. And he'll just smiles and say the same thing.

Lee Donghyuck

I like to think that you and Haechan probably fucked after your wedding, and that's because you two were so drunk after the reception LOL. But despite having a beach wedding, Haechan will still have a beach destination for your honeymoon. Bali, Palawan maybe. Anyways, you two will book a room in an expensive resort that's overlooking the beach. It's just a honeymoon full of beach activities, playfulness, and just you two being lovey-dovey!! Will kiss you under the sun set at some point. Also the first night will be much more romantic compared when you two were drunk.

Na Jaemin

Jaemin would probably take you to Europe for your honeymoon. Somewhere in Amsterdam or Paris because he's a romantic. Definitely a city tour especially during night where the city's much alive, filled with people and just bustling with noise??? yeah, you two would be holding hands giggling as you two venture out the city. Will also be that photographer husband who takes cute photos of your cute fits. He'll book an expensive hotel room for you two and for the first night, he was very very careful of you, like he was such a gentleman because he wants to show how much he loves you.

Zhong Chenle

Chenle would think that it's fun for you two to stay within each other's comfort place, so he'll probably take you to Shanghai or maybe Singapore city. It'll be city tour too! Since he's very confident with talking with locals, you two will have underrated food trips and just take you to interesting places that he found while canvassing the area. He's the type to hold your hands because you tend to get lost in the crowd. You chose the accommodation, so you found a cute airbnb that suited each other's taste. The first night with him is full of playfulness! Chenle would constantly tease you but it was still lovely nevertheless.

Park Jisung

Jisung would also bring you to Europe because he thinks that the 'honeymoon' vibe is just there. Probably in Rome or Barcelona. You two would book a nice hotel that overlooks the entire city, it was breathtaking when you two entered the room. You two would go sightseeing, try local foods, and just take pictures of each other. Jisung has his arms around your shoulder when you two are walking, and both your outfits coordinate! Also he likes to steal kisses from you. The first night would be romantic Like Jisung prepared EVERYTHING and you just lay there and be pretty for him.

#nct dream #nct imagines #nct dream fic #nct fic #nct #nct x reader #nct dream imagine #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct dream reactions #nct drabbles #nct dream imagines #nct mark #nct jeno #nct renjun #nct haechan #nct jaemin #nct chenle #nct jisung

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smoooothoperator · 12 days ago

Text

Rewrite The Stars

02: Brave

Lando Norris x surgeon!OC (Lyra Montgomery)

runnaway bride, forbidden love, destinated lovers, love triangle, second chance, road trip, slow burn

Words: 3.3k

Warnings: Lando POV, anxiety, unrequired love

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a/n: Are you guys excited to read what comes next? What do you think will happen??

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Every way of feedback is very welcomed

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The hotel is stunning.

Grand yet intimate, with towering arched windows that let in the golden afternoon light, illuminating the soft gold tones of the decorations. The courtyard is meticulously arranged, white roses cascading from centerpieces, lining the long aisle that stretches toward a floral arch at the altar.

Everything is harmonious, perfectly selected, elegant without being too much. It looks expensive but simple, luxurious but romantic.

It looks exactly like something Lyra would have dreamed of.

I walk through the space slowly, dragging my fingers along the backs of the white velvet chairs, feeling the soft fabric under my fingertips as I force myself to take it all in.

Every single detail, every single flower arrangement, it’s all familiar.

Because I’ve heard about it before. Because I remember the night she described it to me in perfect detail, years ago, before either of us had even thought about marriage as something real, when it was still just an idea, a fantasy.

We were fifteen.

We had been lying in her backyard after one of her sisters’ weddings, the cool grass beneath us, the scent of summer in the air and a plate full of sweets we stole from the kids table.

"I want my weddig to be perfect."

I had turned my head to look at her, rolling my eyes in that way I always did when she got carried away.

"It's just a wedding, Lyra." I sighed.

She had gasped, appalled, before shoving me so hard that the air left my lungs for a second.

"It is not just a wedding, Lando!” she exclaimed, blushing deeply. “Weddings are special, and mine is going to be exactly how I want it. Roses everywhere, like an actual fairytale, but not red ones. White or maybe light pink. No, white is better... And I don’t want it in some boring church. I want it outside, maybe by the sea, where you can hear the waves in the background while I walk down the aisle. And my dress has to be simple but elegant, nothing too over the top, but something that makes me feel like I belong in a storybook..."

I let her talk, like I always did, letting her fill the silence with her plans and her dreams because I liked the way her voice sounded when she got excited, because I liked the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about things she loved.

Now, standing here, staring at the reality of that childhood dream, I feel something twist in my chest, something that makes it almost impossible to breathe.

Because this is it, this is what she always wanted.

And none of it, not a single part of it, has anything to do with me.

I let out a slow breath, dragging a hand down my face, willing the ache in my chest to disappear, but it doesn't. It just sits there, heavy and suffocating, like a weight pressing down on me.

I don’t know why I came. Maybe because I needed to see it for myself, needed to face the reality of it, needed to let it hurt so badly that I would finally get it through my head that this isn’t a nightmare I’m going to wake up from. This isn’t something I can change. This is her life. Her choice.

And I was never a part of it.

Maybe I always thought I would be. Maybe I was stupid enough to believe that at some point, eventually, I was going to tell her. That there would be a right time, a perfect moment where I could finally say the words I had been swallowing since I was twelve years old, the words that had been buried under years of friendship and missed chances.

But that moment never came.

She never looked at me the way I looked at her. And I had never had the courage to say anything before it was too late.

I glance up toward the hotel, where I know she must be right now.

I wonder what she’s doing. Is she nervous? Excited? I wonder if she’s looking at herself in the mirror and feeling like the happiest version of herself.

And then I wonder if she’s thought about me at all.

If, even for a second, I crossed her mind today.

I have to go inside. I have to find her, talk to her, say something, anything. I have to tell her how I feel, even if it doesn’t matter anymore. Even if it never mattered in the first place.

But what good would it do?

She made her choice.

And it wasn’t me.

I spent years imagining what she would look like on her wedding day.

It wasn’t intentional. But sometimes, the idea of it came into my mind when I least expected it. During long flights home, during late nights alone, during the silence between races when my mind wasn’t occupied enough to keep her away.

I thought of her in white, of the way her orange hair might be styled, the way her smile would look softer, gentle, full of something I never got to have.

And yet, nothing I had ever imagined compared to the reality of seeing her there.

Frozen in front of the door to his room, quiet as a statue,with her fingers clenched so tightly on the dress that her knuckles were white.

For a moment, I can’t move.

I don’t think she even realizes I’m standing there. Her breathing is shallow, her shoulders too stiff, as if she’s waiting for something.

I shouldn’t be here. I know that.

I should turn around, walk away before she notices me, before I make this harder than it already is. But then, just as I will myself to leave, her hand lifts slightly, as if she’s going to push the door open.

But she doesn’t. She hesitates.

And that hesitation makes something crack open in my chest.

I don’t think about it. I just take a step forward.

“Lyra?”

The word barely leaves my lips before she flinches, turning sharply to face me.

For the first time in over a year, I see her. Really see her.

And she is so damn beautiful it almost brings me to my knees.

The dress, the makeup, the way her hair falls down on her back, it’s all exactly how I imagined it, and yet it feels so painfully wrong, because she’s not wearing it for me.

Her wide eyes search mine, and for a moment, neither of us moves.

I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this. It wasn’t her looking at me like I’m the last person she expected to see, like she doesn’t know how to breathe now that I’m here.

Like maybe, just maybe, she missed me too.

She swallows hard, her lips parting slightly before she finally says my name.

“Lando.”

God, I missed the way she says it.

It’s the same voice, the same familiar tone, and yet something about it sounds different.

I blink, my throat tightening as I exhale, trying to ground myself in this moment.

“You-” I start, but the words die in my throat as my gaze flickers past her, to the closed door she had been staring at.

Something heavy settles in my stomach.

I don’t ask. I don’t let myself ask.

But I don’t need to.

“I-” she mumbles, her voice barely audible as a whisper.

I can see it in her face, in the way she won’t meet my eyes for longer than a second, in the way she’s gripping her dress like she’s afraid she might fall apart if she lets go.

“Are you okay?” I asked softly, trying to ease the anxiety she might be feeling.

She should say yes. She should laugh, roll her eyes, tell me I have no right to ask her that after all this time. But she doesn’t.

She just stands there, silent, and for the first time since I’ve known her, Lyra Montgomery doesn’t have an answer.

Her fingers tremble around the bouquet, her shoulders rising and falling too quickly, and something in me breaks.

I was supposed to come here and tell her how I feel, that was the plan: to find her before the wedding, to say everything I had been too much of a coward to say for the past ten years. That I loved her. That I had always loved her. That I should have said something sooner, that maybe it wouldn’t have changed anything, but I needed her to know.

But now, looking at her, really looking at her, I know I can’t.

Because this isn’t about me. It never was.

She’s standing here in her wedding dress, minutes away from marrying someone else, and she looks terrified.

Something is wrong.

And I don’t know what it is.

But I can do one thing. I can be there for her, just this once.

“Do you want to get out of here for a bit?” I sighed, trying to organize my own thoughts and feelings, walking closer to her.

She blinks, caught off guard.

“What?”

“Not far” I add quickly, tilting my head toward the end of the hallway. “Just… somewhere quiet.”

Somewhere away from that door. Somewhere away from whatever is making her grip her dress like it’s the only thing keeping her from falling apart.

She hesitates.

And then, slowly, she nods.

I don’t say anything else. I just start walking, knowing she’ll follow.

And she does.

We step outside through one of the hotel’s side entrances, the cool air biting at my skin. The garden is empty, the wedding setup untouched, waiting for the guests to arrive.

I lean against the low stone wall near a fountain, watching her as she stands a few steps away.

I missed her.

I missed her so much it physically hurts.

“I missed you” I say, the words slipping out before I can stop them.

She stiffens, inhaling sharply.

I can see the war on her face, the way she bites the inside of her cheek, the way her grip on her dress tightens just slightly.

“Lando…”

“Did you miss me?” I ask. My voice is steady, but there’s something raw underneath it.

She exhales sharply, looking away, shaking her head like she doesn’t know how to answer.

“This is ridiculous. You show up after what, a year? And now you want to talk?”

I flinch. But I deserve that.

“I didn’t come here to fight, Lyra.”

“Then why did you come?” she challenges, crossing her arms.

I hesitate. Because I can’t tell her the truth.

I can’t tell her that I came here to confess, that I wanted to be selfish just for once in my life.

So instead, I say the only thing I can.

“Do you really want to get married?”

She stills.

And that’s when I know.

She doesn’t answer. She doesn’t snap at me, doesn’t tell me I’m an idiot for even asking.

She just looks at me, and in that moment, I know that no matter how much she loves him, no matter how much she tries to convince herself otherwise, she’s not sure.

Not really.

“I should go. I have to get ready” she said, forcing a smile.

I swallow hard, glancing away before I do something stupid.

I don’t say anything else. Before she turns around to leave, I just reach into my pocket, pulling out a set of keys.

“What-”

I stand in frint of her and grab her free hand, placing the keys and pressing them on her palm. I let my fingers linger on her skin just for a second, noticing how sweaty her palms are, how nervous she is.

“They’re for my car,” I say, taking a step back. “and my apartment.”

“What?” her breath catches, looking at the keys.

“If you need to get away” I continue. “If you need… a way out.”

She stares at the keys like they might burn her. She should throw them back at me. She should walk away. But she doesn’t.

She takes them. She puts them inside of the pocket of her dress.

And when she finally leaves, she doesn’t look back.

I sit in the last row with my hands clasped together, elbows resting on my knees, my foot tapping against the stone floor in a nervous rhythm I can’t seem to stop. I am away from the carefully arranged guests, away from the family, the friends, the people who have every right to be here. Because I don’t belong.

I never have.

And maybe that’s why I don’t hear her approach.

The sharp click, click, click of her heels against the stone floor doesn’t register until it’s too late.

Until she’s right there.

I didn't move at first. I don’t even look up. I know who it is before she speaks, before the familiar scent of her overpowering perfume invades my senses.

Elena Montgomery.

Lyra’s mother.

“Lando Norris” she purrs, voice smooth as silk and twice as sharp. “I must admit it, I was hoping you would show up.”

Slowly, I look up, meeting the icy blue eyes of the woman who has hated me since the moment I met her daughter. She stands beside my chair, dressed in an elegant blue gown, diamonds at her throat, and a manicured hand resting delicately on her hip.

She doesn’t sit. She just wants to look down at me.

And I say nothing.

Because I know her game. And I won’t fucking play it.

“Tell me, does it hurt?” she asks, tilting her head, studying me like I’m something pathetic.

I clench my jaw, but don’t answer.

But she keeps talking, making my blood boil in my veins.

“Watching her marry someone else” she pauses, lets the words sink in, then continues. “You came all this way, sat yourself in the back like a loyal little dog, but you’ll never have her.”

I exhale slowly, turning my gaze back to the altar, to the empty aisle.

Elena follows my gaze, and when she speaks again, her voice is even softer, almost sweet, but tainted with poison as always.

“You know, I sent you the invitation.”

That makes me look at her.

“What?” I mumble.

“Oh, Lyra didn’t know that, of course. But I made sure you got it” she leans in slightly, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret. “I wanted you to see it happen, Lando. I wanted you to sit here and watch as she becomes Edward’s wife.”

The words land deep in my chest, stabbing me with a precision only a woman like her is capable of.

And she knows it. That’s why she’s smiling.

Because this is a game to her. A victory. A final, calculated move to remind me that I was never good enough.

She straightens, brushing an invisible speck of dust off her dress, and then placing her hand on my shoulder, her nails pressing into the material of the shirt.

“You were always a foolish little boy, clinging to something that was never yours to begin with” she sighs.. “But I suppose I should thank you. Your presence here today makes this even more satisfying-”

“Are you done?” I interrupted her.

She frowned and groaned, taking away her hand from my shoulder and putting a fake smile on her lips. I don’t even blink as Elena scoffs and takes a step back, as if I’m no longer worth her time.

And as she walks away, I sit there, completely still, eyes locked on the path Lyra is supposed to take.

The moment the string quartet starts playing, the air shifts.

The delicate melody washes over the crowd like a wave, and again, everything feels scripted, like we’re part of a performance where every move has been choreographed, where everyone knows their place, their role

And her role, the perfect bride, walking toward the perfect groom, in the perfect wedding, begins now.

I exhale slowly, keeping my face neutral as every pair of eyes turns toward the entrance.

And then, she appears.

Lyra.

She walks slowly, arm hooked with her father’s, bouquet gripped tightly in her hands. Too tightly. The knuckles of her fingers are pale against the delicate flowers.

No one else sees it.

No one else notices the way her chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths. No one else sees the way she blinks a little too often, or the way her fingers tremble against the silk of her dress.

But I do.

I see her.

And I know she’s not okay.

I can feel it, no matter how much time has passed, no matter how many miles stretched between us.

I watch her carefully, my pulse thrumming against my ribs, my stomach twisted into something sharp and uneasy.

And then I realize, she’s searching for something.

No.

She’s searching for someone.

For a second, my breath catches in my throat..

Her green eyes move over the crowd, barely lingering on the guests, skipping past familiar faces. She looks toward the altar, where Edward is standing, waiting, his expression unreadable.

But then her gaze moves past him.

And she finds me.

It’s only a fraction of a second, but it’s enough.

Enough for me to see the raw, desperate emotion in her eyes.

She looks at me like she needs me. Like she’s begging me to say something, to do something.

And I can’t.

I can’t tell her what to do. I can’t make this choice for her.

So I do the only thing I can.

I nod.

Just slightly. Just enough to tell her that it’s okay. That she can do this. That if she wants to walk down that aisle, if she wants to say yes, I won’t stop her.

But the second I do it, something changes.

Her breath stutters.

And then she takes a step back.

My stomach drops.

I see the exact moment the panic overtakes her, the exact second she realizes she can’t do it.

Her father turns to her, confused, whispering something under his breath, but she doesn’t respond.

And then, suddenly she moves. She runs.

She lifts the hem of her dress and turns around, running away from her father, the veil slipping from her hair as she disappears down the path, away from the altar, away from Edward, away from the life everyone expected her to walk into.

And for a moment, there’s nothing but silence.

And then, chaos erupts.

A woman screams. Lyra’s mother is on her feet, hands pressed to her mouth in absolute horror. People stand, murmur, panic.

And me?

I laugh.

Quietly, at first. Just a breathy laugh. But then it grows, making my stomach hurt and my cheeks turn red full of tears as I feel the lack of air because of the attack of laughter.

Because this is so Lyra.

Of course she would wait until the very last second to make a decision.

I don’t even glance at Edward. I don’t care what his expression is, if he’s chasing after her or if he’s frozen in place, humiliated in front of Monaco’s elite.

Because all I care about is that she got away.

I slip out of the crowd before anyone can notice, disappearing through a side entrance and onto the street.

I don’t need to guess where she went.

I knew the second I put those keys in her hand and she put them in the pocket of her dress.

The taxi ride to my apartment is quiet, my fingers tapping against my knee, my pulse still racing from the adrenaline of watching her run away.

And then, when I open the door of my apartment with the in case keys, the scent of her perfume is the first thing that hits me.

She's here.

Sitting on my couch, still in her wedding dress, barefoot, knees pulled up to her chest as she drinks a can of Coca-Cola while watching the screen of the television in my living room.

Her shoulders rise and fall with each uneven breath, and when she hears me, her head snaps up.

And the first thing I see?

The relief in her eyes.

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generalllimaginesss · 1 year ago

Note

"Hey! Nuh uh, none of that!" reader and luke have been best friends since they were kids and recently got together and reader was visiting luke and jack in jersey and jack catches them making out and it’s disgusted seeing his little brtother and the girl he’s watch grow up and is basically his little sister make out

I actually loved writing this! Lukey Pookieeee!!! My first Luke imagine :)) Enjoy!!!

••

The Hughes family had been your second family ever since you were a thought. Jim and your dad were close in college, inseparable when they graduated. Wherever one went, the other followed close behind. Ellen was a second mom to you, and the boys were your brothers that you didn’t have with being an only child.

While it wasn’t necessarily an “arrangement,” both families knew you were destined to fall in love with one of the brothers. You spent any free time with them and had close relationships with each one. Quinn was your go to for advice, Jack was who you went to for a good time, and Luke was your home in human form. He was somebody that made you feel safe to be you. You didn’t have to play charades and act like somebody you’re not. He could see right through that.

You knew you were always the closest to him, but romantic feelings didn’t really develop until he moved to New Jersey with Jack. Contrary to what he tells everybody, he was the one that admitted his feelings first, although he tells everybody that “She just came onto me and I had to do something,” jokingly of course.

You had been helping him pack his childhood room and came across some pictures from summers through the years at the lake house. Some insane courage supported with the feeling of nostalgia brought out some honest conversations. One thing led to another and both of you admitted that you had feelings for one another.

All of that leads to this moment here and now. You had flown to New Jersey to watch the Devils play the Sabres. There was a couple of guys that you wanted to catch up with on the Sabres, but your focus was on Luke currently.

More specifically: Luke hovering above you as you lay on the couch he and his brother shared in their apartment.

“Luke, they’re going to be back soon,” You let out a quiet moan as he was trailing kisses up and down your neck, sucking on the spots that he knew were a weakness for you.

“I’ve caught Jack on several occasions doing worse,” He continued to tug at your hair gently, gaining access to your mouth with his tongue as you let out a louder moan.

“It’s not a big deal, trust me,” He broke apart and gave you a reassuring look accompanied with a peck on your lips.

“I just feel like it’s different…” You trailed off, but a part of you enjoyed the risk of being caught. Everybody knew about the two of you, that wasn’t the problem. Nobody knew the intimate side of you and Luke, and, in a way, that made it that much more special. It was a piece of the universe that only belonged to the two of you.

“I’m not going to do this if your not comfortable-”

You interrupted him with a deep kiss, wrapping his messy curls around your fingertips. His smile became evident, lips moving upwards as the continued to move in synch with yours. Shivers ran up your leg as his fingertips traced up and down the portion of your abdomen that was exposed from your shirt riding up. Ever so gently he pushed the remainder portion of your shirt up, exposing the sports bra that you wore.

Just when things were about to get even more heated, the door to the apartment flew open revealing a wide-eyed Nico, stopping Jack in the middle of his sentence.

"Hey! Nuh uh, none of that," Jack pushed Nico to side, forcing his way through the door, allowing his friend to follow after him.

"Nico, get comfortable because apparently Lukey Pookie here needs a refresher course on the birds and the bees," Jack threw his keys, making his way to the couch where Luke was pinching the bridge of his nose. Nico chuckled, but found refuge in a recliner in the corner of the room.

"I don't think that's-" Luke began, but was immediately interrupted by Jack forcing himself between his brother and the girl he looked at as a little sister.

Jack turned his head, staring at each person on his side with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows.

"I've seen you both in diapers. I've seen you both go through puberty with braces and unhinged emotions, I've seen you both ugly cry over some dumb shit, but I can confidently say that is the most disgusting thing that I have ever seen the two of you do," Jack recalled some crazy moments over the years where things were kind of questionable with you and Luke.

"You're so dramatic," You rolled your eyes and scooted away from him.

"Yeah, well, I don't want to be an uncle yet. At least not the product of you two. Quinn? Maybe. He could afford to let loose a little," Jack suggested, causing Luke snort.

"It wasn't going to go that far....at least not on the couch," You smirked, glancing mischievously at the boy sat beside you.

"Just...use protection and keep it quiet. If you don't have a condom, there's some in my nightstand. I can give you money to go buy some! Grab some cash out of my wallet! I just don't want to see or hear anything from y'all, ok?" Jack was grossed out by the thought of what goes on behind Luke's closed door while you're visiting.

"Hmm, I'll think about it," Luke chirped as he stood up, grabbing your hand to get you to follow him to his room.

As soon as the two of you disappeared, Jack looked at Nico pleadingly.

"You don't think they're..." He trailed off, but Nico knew what he was talking about.

"Surely not," Nico comforted, but a loud, obnoxious, and obviously dramatic moan echoed throughout the apartment.

The guys in the living room couldn't see it, but you and Luke were laughing your asses off. That's one thing the two of you did best, pushed Jack's buttons.

"My apartment will not be a daycare for their lovechild," Jack announced as he got up to grab something to drink from the kitchen.

Nico laughed, enjoying the scene that had played out in front of him.

Who knew Jack and Luke Hughes could provide more entertainment than the NHL?

#nhl imagine #nhl fic #jack hughes #quinn hughes #trevor zegras #alex turcotte #cole caufield #jack hughes imagines #nhl fanfiction #nico hischier #Luke hughes imagine #Luke hughes #friends to lovers #nhl #hockey #nhl hockey

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gguk-n · 9 months ago

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Tragic Circumstance (Oscar Piastri x Reader)

Summary- In a world where you are destined to be with someone forever, a hopeless romantic lives her life in hope of finally finding her soulmate.

Part 1 Alt ending

ENDING Oscar's POV

I felt uneasy leaving 'my soulmate' behind that day. But that was the right thing. I loved my girlfriend. We'd been together for so long. She was my comfort. I couldn't leave her for some random girl who said was my 'destiny'. I didn't look back, I didn't want to give her false hope. She deserved to find someone, someone who would love her and appreciate her; I couldn't be that someone.

I was genuinely happy with my girlfriend, now fiance. We had recently gotten engaged at a beach in Sydney. The thought of that fated soulmate of mine hadn't crossed my mind in so long, until today. The uneasy feeling was back, my heart started to ache and it was a weird kind of ache, like it knew something I didn't. I spent the next few days with my fiance and family, trying to ignore the ache in my chest. We were supposed to leave on Monday but I couldn't leave not when I felt this shitty. I lied that I missed my family and wanted to stay here for a little longer, she understood and left without me.

Today was Friday, the ache in my chest had increased and my throat was dry and constricted. I tried drinking water and going out for a walk. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know who to go to, so I went to the person I went to for all my problems, my mum. She was making dinner when I asked to speak with her. She told me to wait on the couch and that she'd be right with me. The pain in my chest kept increasing, what if I was having a heart attack; my brain had the most morbid thought. I sat down trying to control my breathing.

My mum sat next to me and smiled, "What did you want to talk about, darling?" It took a lot of effort to speak, "My chest hurts, mum. I think I'm having a heart attack" I said. She looked concerned and ready to call the ambulance asking since how long this was going on for? I replied, "a couple days, this is the reason I didn't leave on Monday." It was like a switched flipped in my mum's head. She gave me a weak, sad and knowing smile; like she knew something. She patted my chest, near my heart and started speaking "I remember when my grandma passed away, she had been sick for a few days. You'd think she was the one in pain but really it was granddad who was nursing a chest ache like no other. He prayed to stay alive until she left and had no qualm leaving with her. The day grandma died I heard grandpa wailing, she took my heart ache with her, I wanted to leave with her. In his hand lay his red string of fate attached to his pinky finger. It was like his heart knew she was leaving and couldn't bear it. He spent the next few years nursing the thread until he passed away one summer morning."

I couldn't understand why she was telling me this. I don't love my soulmate to feel these strong emotions. She gave me a hug and consoled me, "Your soulmate is probably sick or about to pass, that's why you've been like this. I know you rejected her but your connection still persists. She is still your soulmate and your heart will yearn for a love that was meant to be yours." I felt tears well up in my eyes. I looked down at my hand and saw the red string of fate severed at one end. I pulled away from my mother cradling my left hand. My mum saw my hand and started rubbing my back. "She was so young, we were about the same age." I spluttered. How could she have died? A million thoughts ran through my head. "That is a mystery we will never be able to solve, sweetheart. Let's just hope she was able to pass peacefully." my mum spoke. I buried my head in my palms and started crying. The ache in my chest slowly fading. The tears started to pour as the ache subsided. I felt responsible in a way. I shall carry this guilt for the rest of my life.

Me and my fiance got married in a small wedding a year from the day my soulmate passed. I even named our daughter after her. I never found out what happened to her, but that is a burden I am meant to carry. The red string sits in the drawer of my study table, secured in a glass box.

I hope you liked it, there's an alternative ending if you like happy ending

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sluttyten · 5 months ago

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dog days of summer

Kinktober Day 7 | WinWin Masterlist | Member Masterlist

tags: cute, romantic, car sex, fingering, foot fetish, toe sucking, werewolf!WinWin

length: 3346

When you and WinWin first got together, you always told your friends he gave you such strong golden retriever vibes. Like, he was a good boy, was always excited to see you; he just gave off that happy-go-lucky energy. He enjoyed little treats. He enjoyed you praising him for doing a good job with whatever he was doing. He liked going on runs with you.

There was one time you were describing him to a friend, and she laughed as she asked, “Is he your boyfriend or your dog?”

Sure, WinWin had some qualities and interests that were kinda similar to a dog. But that wasn’t a bad thing.

And then comes a long weekend in the summer, during which you and WinWin decide to go drive down the coast.

“God, I love a good, long car ride,” WinWin said when you brought up the idea to him. “Windows down, wind blowing through my hair, enjoying the sunshine and ending up someplace new and exciting.”

You immediately think of your family dog from childhood, the way he’d always been so excited to get in the car, always stuck his head out the window with his ears flapping in the wind, how he’d always been so excited when you reached the destination and there were new things to smell and new people to meet.

“So is that a yes?” You ask.

WinWin nods. “Yeah. It’ll be nice to take a weekend away. We’ve not gone away together yet.”

“Exactly. And we can make it so romantic.” You reach for his hand, which makes WinWin smile softly at you, looking at you with pure adoration in his eye. “We can get a hotel room beside the beach, have a picnic, and I’ve always wanted to just lay out on the beach at night and stargaze.”

“Sounds romantic.” WinWin kisses you. “I can’t wait.”

When Friday comes around, WinWin comes by your place in the morning to get an early start, and you drive, leaving the city by mid-morning. Windows down, wind blowing, sun shining, and WinWin plays music and sings to you when your favorite songs come on.

You stop at a small beach town for lunch, pulling into a parking lot fenced in by trees that shade your car.

You take a walk around the small town, enjoying the warm sunshine and the cool breeze, peering into cute shops and small restaurants, unsure where you want to eat for lunch.

“Cute picnic lunch?” WinWin suggests after he spots a grocery store. “Didn’t you say you wanted to have a romantic picnic? Why don’t we go in, buy some stuff, and find a nice picnic spot?”

So you do exactly that.

You have limited options for picnic fare while you’re in a grocery store. You buy fancy cheese, a container of berries, some deli meats sliced thin, making your own little charcuterie spread. At the recommendation of the older woman working the cash register, you and WinWin pack back into your car and drive a bit further down the coast to a nice view.

There’s no other cars around, which is fine as you back into a parking spot at the edge of the parking lot. WinWin hops out and pops open the back hatch of your car, and that’s where you set up the picnic, sitting in the spacious back of your car, the hatch propped up, the sweet breeze reaching up to you from the sea.

It’s nice and sweet, sitting there together like this, eating and chatting, enjoying the view. And occasionally, WinWin picks up a berry and feeds it to you.

And there’s definitely something romantic about WinWin feeding a perfectly red strawberry to you. Something tantalizing about his fingertips brushing your lips. Something utterly distracting about his gaze fixed on your lips.

It gets your heart pumping when WinWin leans over your picnic assortment to kiss you. He’s kissed you a thousand times, but your heart still races with each kiss.

The burst of berry sweetness is still there on your tongue, and WinWin moans softly at the taste. You press closer to him, draping your arm over his shoulders, forgetting the food as you draw yourself into his lap, as you kiss him harder, more intensely, more hungrily.

His hands are on your hips, holding you in his lap, pressing you forward as you make these little wanton moans and rock your hips.

WinWin nips at your bottom lip, pulling back only long enough to say, “Should we put a pause on this until we reach the hotel?” And then his mouth is back on yours, muffling your denial.

You want to keep going. There’s no one around, and maybe that’s why the woman at the store had recommended this spot for a romantic picnic. You grasp at WinWin’s shoulders, sighing his name as he slides his hand down your back until his fingers slip beneath the cute sundress you’re wearing to grab your bottom.

“Right here.” You press the words to WinWin’s lips between kisses. “I want to have sex right here. Right now.”

Your wish is WinWin’s command, ever the obedient boyfriend.

You hear the food get knocked away as WinWin slides one arm around, and you know you’re going to have to pick berries out from under the car seats later, but right now you don’t care. WinWin rolls you under him onto your back. He stands just at the bumper, pushing your dress up above your belly while he keeps kissing you. His hands wander your thighs and belly without looking, and you buck your hips, searching for any contact where you need him most.

WinWin pulls away from kissing you, rising up until his head is brushing the ceiling of the car. “You’re so beautiful,” he declares, running his hand up your side and pushing your dress up even higher, over your tits. “I could look at you like this forever.”

“I hope you do.” You reach up, lacing your fingers with his. “But right now I need you to do more than just look. I need you to touch.” You bring your entwined hands down between your legs, laying his fingers right over your pussy where you want him.

WinWin pulls his hand away, but only so he can wrap his hands around your ankles. He pulls the shoe off of one foot, tossing it behind you into the car, and then he does the same to the other. He pushes your ankles up, knees to your chest and ankles in the air. And then his hand is back, tugging the fabric of your panties to the side, and he slides his fingers inside you, his thumb to your clit.

WinWin fingers you until he has your legs trembling, your mouth opening to let out a series of whines and whimpers. You push one of your feet against his chest, pressing him back, and you finally manage to gasp out, “Wait, wait, I don’t want to cum yet. Want you to cum with me.”

He curls the fingers of his free hand around your ankle. “Cum once for me now, cum again with me later.” WinWin strokes his fingers inside you, swirling his thumb against your clit, pressing you just right. “Come on, cum for me, baby.”

You fall apart around his fingers, trembling, pushing your foot harder against WinWin’s chest.

When WinWin pulls his fingers away from your center, you slowly let your foot drop, tracing it down from where you had it resting over his heart, down over his stomach, his abdomen, down to the front of his pants where you draw your toes around the bulging evidence of his erection.

He holds tight to your ankle.

Pretty early on in this relationship you learned that WinWin was into this. He loved your feet – licking, sucking, nibbling on your toes. Your feet just did something extra special to him. So times, like right now, when you really, really wanted to make him desperate, all you had to do was get your foot in his lap, trace the tip with your toes, caress the shaft with the arch of your foot.

He moans as you do exactly that right now, brushing your foot along the defined shape of his cock against the front of his pants. You trace your big toe down along the zipper, then slide the sole of your foot back up his length. WinWin’s eyes flutter as you circle your toes again at the bulging tip.

“Stop,” he growls, suddenly jerking your ankle up into the air again. “Are you trying to make me cum in my pants?”

You laugh. “Why? Would that work?”

WinWin curls his fingers around both of your ankles, holding your legs wide apart, ankles up in the air.

Once again, you’re grateful that this little viewpoint isn’t a popular one. You’re not so sure that an audience would enjoy the show that you and WinWin are putting on.

“It probably would work, if I’m being honest.” WinWin drops his hand from one of your ankles. “But I thought you wanted us to cum together?”

Your freed foot comes to rest against his chest. WinWin glances at it before looking back up at your face with one of his eyebrows raised. “I just like to see my feet drive you wild.”

You hear the sound of his zipper dropping, but you don’t look away from your boyfriend’s face. You can tell his hand is moving down between his legs, but both of you hold each other’s gaze, never looking away until the moment that WinWin sinks forward, dipping his tip inside your pussy. It’s then that he breaks your gaze, his attention dropping to where he can watch his cock be swallowed up by your pretty pussy.

He drops his hand from your other ankle, reaching for your hip as he drags your ass to the edge of the car, pulling you onto his cock.

You keen his name, the sound carried away in the wind as WinWin starts moving, leaning into the foot that you have pressed to his chest.

Your other ankle you hook around his lower back, using it to pull him in deeper, not that he lets it keep him there. WinWin moves freely, thrusting into you at a good pace, hard enough to make the whole car rock. His hips clap against your ass, your whole body moving from the force of each of his thrusts – tits bouncing, hands flying up above your head to try to steady yourself.

WinWin touches your calf, gliding his fingers along the muscle up to your ankle, the foot pressed to his chest.

You watch through half-lidded eyes as WinWin pulls your foot up to his face. He inhales, his nose tracing the curve of your sole, his lips leaving light kisses from heel to toe. And when he reaches your toes….

“WinWin!” You moan, unable to help it as he sucks your big toe into his mouth.

Before him, this wasn’t something you’d experienced much of. No one you’d been with before was ever really into feet except maybe a little game of footsie or the tactic of sliding your foot into his lap to tease him a bit. But no one liked your feet as much as WinWin; you’d certainly had an eye-opening experience the first time he asked if he could suck on your toes, and in the time since then, you’d grown to truly enjoy it.

WinWin rocks his hips forward, burying his cock in you again and again as he sucks on your big toe. You slide a hand down to your clit, lift your other hand up to pull down the cup of your bra, to touch your boobs while WinWin watches. He pulls his mouth away from your toes, kissing along the side of your foot, to your ankle, then back again.

Your pussy is throbbing by this point, tingling as you push your fingers in erratic shapes over your clit. WinWin’s doing everything right for you right now, pressing his hips close and just humping his cock into you, worshipping your foot, moaning as he watches you touching yourself.

“I’m gonna cum,” you announce, dragging your hand away from your chest to slide it against WinWin’s hip. You sink your fingernails into his skin, loving the way that he hisses and jolts into you. His eyes flutter shut when you trail your nails across his abdomen, up his toned stomach, dragging your fingernails over his skin enough to leave marks. “WinWin, cum with me.”

He presses his lips to the arch of your foot, his nose against your toes, and he lets go.

WinWin thrusts into you a few times rapidly, and then he’s cumming, pushing in slow to savor the tight pulsing of your warmth around him as your orgasm quickly follows his. He fucks you both through your orgasms, sinking in fully as he eases your ankle away from his face and down to the side.

WinWin lays over you, his chest pressed to yours, and he kisses you deeply, your breaths mingling, and soft whimpers leaving your lips as he continues to shift his hips forward, rocking into you to push you into a weak orgasm, like the aftershocks of an earthquake.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him there for several moments.

After a bit, when you finally feel coherent enough to speak again, you say, “And to think, we’ve already had sex once, and we’re not even to the hotel yet. Our romantic weekend hasn’t even really started yet.” You brush your fingers through his hair, but WinWin reaches up, tangling his fingers with yours and pulling your hand back down to rest beside your head. “WinWin, I’m thinking to continue this romantic vibe right now, what do you say that we eat dinner on the beach by the hotel tonight? Get something to go from the hotel’s nice restaurant, picnic blanket on the sand, a little candlelit or lantern-lit dinner under the full moon tomorrow night?”

“Wait, what? It’s the full moon this weekend?” WinWin jolts upright, untangling his fingers from yours.

“Yes.” What’s his problem?

WinWin pulls away from you, walking away from the car before spinning around and turning back towards you. “Shit, I knew there was something I was forgetting. I was just so caught up with the idea of coming here with you. You seemed so excited, and that made me excited too, so I completely forgot!”

“Forgot what?” You sit up too, pulling your dress back down. “WinWin, what are you talking about?”

He sighs, sinking back down onto the bumper. “There’s something I need to tell you, but promise me you won’t freak out?”

The simple existence of that phrase makes you want to freak out. What is he about to tell you? That he’s married and he’s forgotten it’s his and his wife’s anniversary? That he’s got a kid, and it’s their birthday? That he has to attend some satanic ritual and offer you up as a blood sacrifice to the full moon? You hate that you’ve gone so quickly from the bliss of moments ago to this mild panic raging through you now.

WinWin drops his face into his hands and groans.

“Sicheng, just tell me. You’re scaring me.” You put a hand on his shoulder, rubbing soothingly down his back. “What is it?”

“I didn’t want to tell you,” he chokes out into his palms. “I thought I wouldn’t have to, that I would be cured before I’d have to tell you.”

You freeze. Your heart stops. What is he saying? “Are you dying?”

“No!” He sits up, and looks at you for the first time in several minutes. “Baby, no, I’m not dying. I – I’m a werewolf. And I know that sounds like some bullshit story, but I swear to you, I’m a werewolf, and if I’d realized this weekend was the full moon, I never would have come along on this trip. I would never risk putting you in danger. Shit!”

WinWin jumps to his feet again, pacing away from the car while he rakes his fingers through his hair.

A werewolf?

He’s got to be lying, right?

But then your brain begins connecting the dots. All of his dog-like qualities you’ve noticed and joked about with your friends. His thing for feet, which is similar to your childhood dog’s love for licking and sniffing the feet of anyone he met. How rare he likes his meat when you go out to dinner together. How last month and the month before WinWin had been MIA for the nights surrounding the full moon.

“You’re not joking, are you?” You ask, standing up to walk towards him.

He’s still facing away from you, hands in his hair.

“WinWin.” He doesn’t look at you. “Dong Sicheng, look at me!”

It takes you fisting your hand in the back of his shirt and tugging to get him to turn around and look at you.

“Are you really a werewolf?” You can hardly believe those words are coming out of your mouth. “I don’t care if you are, but are you really? How?”

WinWin sighs. “It’s a long story, but I got bit a few months before I met you. I’ve been mostly living a normal life, except the night of, the night before, and the night after the full moon. Those nights are… pretty rough. I’ve met some others affected by the bite, and some of them swear there’s a cure out there, that researchers are working on making one available to the masses of affected people. I was really, really hoping I’d be able to hide this from you until then. I’m such a goddamn fool! I’m putting you at risk being here.”

“Well,” you say quietly, “what do you normally do for the full moon? Do you go somewhere?” You wrap your arms around him, lay your head on his chest. His heart is racing beneath your ear.

“I just lock myself in my apartment. I haven’t hurt anyone yet. I just transform, but I’m always scared I’m going to break out, that I’ll hurt someone.” He hugs you tightly. “Some of the others I’ve met say that stuff like that happened to them. I’m just scared.”

“Maybe you can lock yourself in the bathroom of our hotel room?” You suggest. “I can barricade you in?”

WinWin laughs a little. “Maybe.”

“Listen.” You lift your head from his chest to look into his eyes. “Dong Sicheng, I love you. And I know you love me too. I don’t think you’re going to hurt me. You sound too determined to not hurt me. And if we’re safe, if we take precautions by locking you in the bathroom, barricading the door between me and you, I think we’ll be fine. I want to give it a try.”

He sighs, and you can see in his eyes that he’s warring with himself, debating whether he should follow your wishes, or if he should tell you that he’d like to head back home so he can lock himself safely away in his own apartment. But in the end, he decides to go with what you want.

You both spend twenty minutes cleaning berries and cheese out from beneath your seats, and then you climb into the front seat and drive away.

“Tell me what it’s like,” you ask, reaching over for WinWin’s hand once you’re on the road again. “Tell me how it happened. Tell me everything, and don’t feel like you need to hide any of it from me. I love you, and I’ll love you no matter what.”

When you look over at him, WinWin is looking straight ahead out the windshield, but you can tell by the way that he’s gripping your hand, the way that he lets out a shaky sigh of relief, he’s so grateful that you’re still treating him like the man you’re in love with rather than just a monster.

a/n: I think I'm so funny with the little dog jokes in there lol, but anyway here was this one! Day 7 down, only 24 more to go! This is another one where I think a part 2 might eventually happen, but I'm not making any promises about that.

I hope you enjoyed! Reblogs are deserving of my eternal gratitude, likes are greatly appreciated, and your thoughts and comments are always welcome !

#winwin #nct #wayv #nct smut #wayv smut #winwin smut #sicheng #sicheng smut

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communicationthroughlyrics · 8 months ago

Text

That Haunts Me Everyday

For years, you hid your feelings for Natasha, and one night, the floodgates opened. But the aftermath in the following days is what dictates your relationship going forward- if there is one.

TW: angsty, Nat is a cocky asshole, Wanda calls bullshit, poorly translated Russian, ehhhh yeah. That covers it, I think XD

Word Count: 8.6K

The wind howled by your window as you drove down the highway toward New York City. You were tapping along with the song playing through the radio, approaching the needed exit. Your phone buzzed with a text from your mom. "Just finished the project," you wrote back, a smirk playing on your lips. Your heart began to race as you neared your destination, the events of the last week's passion playing in your mind.

The week had been eye-opening, to say the least, Natasha finally cornering you, and confronting you about your feelings. You had always harbored romantic feelings and sexual tension for the redhead. But you didn't want to taint the working relationship you had, so you kept the emotions and feelings at bay, masking your pain when she would leave for a mission, the despair when she would return hurt, or the jealousy and rage when she would drag a conquest through the compound for the night.

Now you were going to face her again, and you didn't know what to expect. Would she be cold and professional, or would she finally acknowledge the fiery chemistry between you two? The car grew warm as you thought about the night you had shared, the touch of her skin, the way she had looked at you as she whispered sweet nothings into your ear. She had laughed at your hesitancy but reassured you as she held your bare body to hers after an evening caught in the throes of passion. The wind outside seemed to mimic the tumultuous emotions swirling within you.

As you pulled into the secure parking lot, you looked up at the building before you. The compound was lit up like a fortress, the fluorescent lights casting eerie shadows across the concrete. The smell of summer was in the air, not doing much to quell your current whirlwind of emotions as you neared where the redhead was. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the unknown as you stepped out of the car. You could hear the dull thump of music, telling you that Tony was likely throwing a get-together, a celebration of the most recent successful mission.

Walking through the main doors, you felt a sense of déjà vu. The same hallways, the same agents passing by, but something felt fundamentally different. Your heart thudded in your chest as you made your way to the living quarters. You hadn't seen her since that night, the night that had changed everything. You were stalking down the hallway, mentally preparing yourself for what was waiting at the end. Would she greet you? Hug you? Or completely ignore your presence?

The music grew louder as you approached the source of the party. You could hear the laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the occasional roar of victory from the guys watching a sports game on the giant flat-screen. You took another deep breath and pushed open the door to the common area. The room was a blur of motion and sound, but your eyes immediately found Natasha, standing across the room, surrounded by a few of the other agents. No one seemed to notice your arrival, and you set your bag by the door before silently walking towards Nat. For a spy, she seemed none the wiser to your presence, and it was then that you realized what she was talking about.

One of the rookie agents she was talking to caught your attention. "Come on Romanoff, you always have someone in your bed." they all laughed at this, including her.

"True, I do," she began. The room seemed to grow quiet, the laughter dying away as Natasha's words hung in the air. "But not just anyone can handle it," she finished, a cocky smile playing on her lips. "No one can handle me for more than a night." Your stomach dropped, and your chest tightened as you took in her words. You stood rooted in your place as she continued, clearly inebriated and oblivious to your presence nearby.

"Oh please, Romanoff. You had to have had someone in your life that was worth a second spin around the block." Benson, another rookie chimed in.

"No, that's my number one rule," Natasha said, her eyes gleaming with a mischievous spark that sent a chill down your spine. "Never let them get too close, and never let it mean anything." You watched her, trying to gauge if she was referring to you. It was as if she had slapped you across the face with her nonchalance. "No emotions, no feelings. Sex is just sex, and it hurts when it means something."

Her words felt like a knife twisting in your gut. The room was a sea of faces that you had worked alongside for years, but none of them looked at you. The room felt like it was spinning as your mind raced. Before you could react, Tony's voice boomed over the music, announcing your arrival. "Look who the cat dragged in!" His eyes locked onto you, and the room swiveled in your direction. You couldn't process what you had just heard, especially after the hours-long conversation the two of you had, you discussing your reluctance and fear in letting the woman in. Was she so cold, to say the right things just to get you into her bed?

Natasha's eyes searched the room, and when she found yours, she froze. The smile dropped from her face, and the color drained from her cheeks. For a moment, you thought she was going to stride over to you, apologize, explain. But she didn't move. She just stood there, looking at you as if you were a ghost.

You turned on your heels, your eyes now brimming as you willed your tears not to fall in front of everyone. The only one in this crowd who knew was Wanda. She had long been your confidant about your emotions and feelings, and while she normally didn't read your mind, your thoughts were currently too loud to ignore. She shot Natasha a stern glare as everyone seemed to watch you run out of the room, and down the hallway. You needed to be alone. To think. To breathe.

You decided against the elevator, opting to run down the stairs, your shoes slapping against the dull grey concrete as you descended towards your car. Each step brought a new wave of pain crashing into your chest, Natasha's words echoing in your mind like a cruel mantra. "Sex is just sex, and it hurts when it means something." Did she truly believe that? Was she capable of feeling anything beyond the physical? You had caved, finally telling her how you felt, and much to your surprise, she said that she had felt the same way, for a long time. Since you had joined S.H.I.E.L.D, in fact, but didn't want to change your working dynamic.

But here you were, feeling like a fool. Like you had let your guard down for a woman who saw you as nothing more than a conquest, a notch on her bedpost. You reached the parking lot, the night air cooling your flushed cheeks as you stumbled into the quiet solitude. The door of your car slammed shut behind you, muffling the outside world as you gripped the steering wheel and took deep, ragged breaths, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. You struggled with your keys, finally fidgeting with them enough to find the correct one, probing it around until you finally stuck it into the ignition, turning it with a shaky hand and hearing the car come to life.

The engine purred under your palms as you sat there, unable to move. You felt like a teenager who had just had their heart broken for the first time. But you weren't a teenager, you were an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., trained to handle the most intense situations with poise and grace. You had faced gods and aliens and survived, but Natasha Romanoff had managed to cut you deeper than any blade ever could. You leaned back in your seat, closed your eyes, and let the pain wash over you.

Natasha's words continue to echo throughout your mind, jumbling themselves with the sights and sounds of the two of you tangled between the bedsheets, the vision of her begging for you to make her cum, bleeding into "sex is just sex" as the tears finally cascaded over. Your anger began to boil, and you slammed the gear shift into reverse, peeling out of your parking spot, as you drove away, tires squealing into the night with a cloud of dust and debris.

The drive was a blur, the only things keeping you company were the tears running down your cheeks and the painful knot in your chest. You didn't know where you were going, you just knew you had to get out of there. The wind rushing through the open window felt like ice against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat of Natasha's embrace from just days ago. You couldn't believe that she could be so callous, so cold. But then again, you told yourself that you shouldn't be surprised. She's a Black Widow, after all. She's trained for this. You were a fool to believe any different.

The oncoming lights were hazy, a halo ring of light as you continued to speed down the road, wiping your face with the back of your hand. The wind whipping in your cracked windows stung your eyes, mixing with your tears and leaving a salty taste on your lips. You had never felt so humiliated in your life. The woman you had bared your soul to had just casually tossed aside your confession like it meant nothing.

You reached a deserted stretch of road, and without thought, you pulled over, slamming the car into park. The engine ticked as it cooled down, and you sat there, feeling the adrenaline leave your body. The night was eerily quiet except for the occasional hoot of an owl or rustle of leaves. You felt like you were going to be sick, so you opened the door and stepped out into the cool air. Leaning against the car, you took deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart.

The stars above looked down on you, indifferent to your plight. You felt small, insignificant. You had thought that maybe, just maybe, Natasha had felt something for you. That the connection you felt was real. But now, it was clear that she had used you, played you like a fiddle. Deciding that you would go back to your apartment for the night, instead of the compound, you took a deep breath before climbing back into the car.

As you turned the key, the engine roared back to life, and you eased onto the road, the quietness of the night settling in around you. But fate had other plans. A blur of headlights in the distance grew larger, and your heart skipped a beat as you realized the car was hurtling towards you at an alarming speed. Panic set in as you frantically honked your horn, trying to get their attention. But it was too late. The collision sent your world spinning, the crunch of metal and shatter of glass piercing the quiet of the night. The impact threw you against the side of your car, and everything went black.

~3rd Person POV~

“Natalia Alianovna Romanoff!” Wanda growled as she approached the widow before her. “Kak ty smeyesh' obrashchat'sya s ney tak, budto ona vsego lish' yeshche odno iz tvoikh zavoyevaniy!” She snarled in Natasha’s face, where the redhead was too stunned to speak. She hadn’t moved since Tony called out your presence, her stomach dropped when she saw how close Y/N was to the conversation she had been having with the newest recruits. She knew she messed up, she saw it the moment the pain flashed in your eyes, the tears shortly thereafter. Natasha knew you wanted to cry, but wouldn’t do it in front of everyone.

“Oooh! Nat’s in trouble! The witch is yelling at her in Russian!” Someone chimed in from the back, Wanda didn’t seem to quite care who as red tendrils drifted from her hands as she silently told whoever was chiming in to shut up.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, witchy!” Tony steps in between the widow and the witch, unsure of what is taking place.

Natasha’s heart was racing, she felt her body tense up as Wanda’s words hit her like a slap to the face. She had never seen Wanda this angry before. The Avenger’s base was eerily silent, all eyes on the two of them. “I... I didn’t mean it like that, Wanda. I just-“

"You just crushed that woman's heart, Natasha!" Wanda's eyes were glowing red at this point, her fury making no effort to hide. "How many times do I have to remind you that she's not just another mission or conquest for you to charm your way through?"

Natasha's eyes widened, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and anger. "You don't know what you're talking about, Wanda," she replied through gritted teeth, her Russian accent thickening with her emotions. "It's not like that."

"Oh? It's not like that?! Suka! Tell me what it is then!" Wanda stepped closer, her chest bumping into Tony's side as he stood between the two, separating them albeit halfheartedly, with a look of bewilderment on his face.

"What is going on?!" Tony and Steve yelled at the same time, everyone else sensing that this party was all but over, and leaving quietly. This was not a conversation for thier ears anymore.

Wanda's glowing eyes never left Natasha's as she continued her verbal assault. "You think you can just use people, Natasha? That your charm and good looks can get you out of any situation without consequences?!"

"Jesus, you two! What the hell is going on?!" Steve yelled louder, finally stepping in, pushing Tony out of the way so he could guide Wanda back away from Natasha.

Natasha took a deep, shaky breath, her eyes never leaving Wanda's. "I didn't use her, Wanda. I care about her," she whispered, the words barely audible over the pulse in her ears.

"That one," Wanda pointed over at Natasha, her fury evident in her tone. "Y/N finally told Natasha how she felt, after being scared for so long that Natasha didn't feel the same. She didn't want to be used, she wanted a serious chance with Romanoff." she started, hardly hiding her disappointment with the Russian. "And what does Natasha do? She plays it off like it's some kind of game like she doesn't understand the gravity of Y/N's feelings!"

Tony's face paled as he realized the severity of the situation. Tony had always seen you like a daughter, your passion for technology and science instantly endeared you to the older man. "Oh, Natasha," he murmured, shaking his head. Steve, equally shocked, turned to Natasha with a stern look. "Is this true?" Natasha's shoulders slumped, Wanda, tilting her head as they waited for a response.

"It's complicated," she began, but Wanda cut her off.

"No, Natasha. It's not. You either care for her, or you don't. You either respect her feelings, or you don't. There is no 'complicated' when it comes to someone's heart! You slept with her AFTER she told you her feelings, and how scared she was." Wanda's voice had gone eerily quiet. "And now, after she told you everything, and you helped her to feel EVERYTHING, you tell people that 'sex is just sex?', that it means nothing to you?!"

Steve's eyes were narrowed, his grip on Wanda's arm tightening slightly. "Natasha, is this true?" he asked his voice firm but not unkind.

"And for what? To fit in with the boys? To be like one of them? Just because?!" Wanda's voice raised again, her anger evident with Natasha.

"No... that's not," Natasha started, now staring at the floor to avoid the gaze of all the Avengers surrounding her. Even Clint's usually understanding gaze was suddenly cold to the Russian. "That's not what I was doing, that was never my intention Wanda. You know that."

"Then what was your intention?!" Wanda's voice echoed through the room, her words laced with pain and accusation. The silence was so thick, it was as if the very air had turned to ice.

"Enough, Wanda." Steve finally cut in, breaking through the tension.

Natasha took the opportunity to find her voice again, looking up at Wanda with a mix of sadness and defiance. "My intention was never to hurt her, Wanda. You know that. I care about Y/N. A lot."

Tony, sensing the opportunity, stepped in. "Natasha, follow me. Everyone else, continue as before." he turned and walked away, a silent command for the redhead to follow. Wanda turned and went to her room, intent on trying to connect with you to make sure you were ok. Steve and Clint returned to the dinner table, thier beer in hand as they sat in silence, digesting what just happened.

Tony led Natasha into his lab, motioning for her to sit on one of the stools. "I'm going to talk for a little bit, and I expect silence unless I say," he began, a cold, stern look crossing his face. "You need to understand, Natasha, that Y/N is not just another mission or asset. She's a person, with feelings, dreams, and fears. Just like you. And she's part of this family." Natasha opened her mouth, but Tony quickly held up his finger, telling her to be quiet. "Now, I have had my share of playboy moments, Natasha." He stood over by his window, looking out on the city below. "Of all people here, I can understand the notch on the bedpost. However," he turned around, facing her. "This is low, even for you. You know that I see her like my own daughter, I've taken her under my wing. Y/N and I work many late nights together, oftentimes, working on equipment and technology for all of you."

Natasha nodded, a distant look in her eyes as she fiddled with her hands. "Many of those nights, Y/N confided in me, about numerous things. You- were one of them." Tony's voice was softer now, filled with a mix of sadness and disappointment. "She talked about her feelings for you, how she was afraid to confess because she didn't want to ruin what we have here. But I could tell," he sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. "She is crazy about you. And not in a high school crush sort of way."

Natasha swallowed hard, feeling a knot form in her throat. "I didn't mean to lead her on, Tony. I just didn't know how to handle it. I've never-" he stuck up his finger, telling her to be quiet.

"While you may not have felt like that was what you were doing," he began, sitting himself before the widow. "You need to look at this from her point of view."

"How so?" her voice was slightly higher than usual, a result of her trying not to cry.

"Well, Nat. Y/N has been with us for," he thought for a moment, trying to recall when they all first met Y/N.

"Six years." Natasha cut in.

"Ah, yes. Six years. However- she had known about you for much longer, most of the world had." his gaze became distant as he continued. "She thought that at first, it was just a celebrity-type crush, that her crush would go away. But it didn't, Natasha. She harbored these feelings for you for a long time. But she waited and watched. And when she finally gathered the courage to say something, you threw it back in her face. You just had to go and tell someone that there are no feelings, no chances for anyone with you." Tony leaned forward, his eyes never leaving hers. "Do you know how much courage that takes, for someone to confess thier feelings and face one of thier greatest fears?"

Natasha's eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them back, trying to maintain her composure. "I do, Tony," she whispered. "More than you know."

Tony sighed, his face softening. "Look, Natasha. I know you've been through a lot. And I know you've got walls around your heart taller than the Snap's dust. But you can't keep using people to keep those walls standing. You can't keep telling yourself that you don't deserve happiness because of your past. You, of all of us, deserve happiness, and to feel love."

Natasha's eyes searched Tony's, seeing the concern and the care that the billionaire had for her and Y/N. She took a deep breath, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "What do I do, Tony?" she asked, her voice cracking.

"You go and you talk to her," Tony said firmly. "You tell her the truth. Not the 'it's complicated' bullshit, Natasha. The truth. What you truly feel."

Natasha nodded slowly, her heart racing at the thought of facing Y/N after everything. She knew she had hurt her, and the weight of it was crushing her. "But what if she doesn't believe me, Tony?"

"You'll have to find a way to make her understand, Natasha," Tony replied, his voice gentle but firm. "This isn't about convincing her or fixing things with some charm or clever words. It's about being honest with her, with yourself."

"I love her, Tony. I always have." Natasha's voice was barely a whisper, the weight of her confession hanging heavy in the air.

Tony studied her for a moment, searching for any signs of deceit, but all he saw was pain and regret. He knew Natasha had walls, but he also knew that when she did care about someone, it was deep and genuine. "I know you do," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "But you shouldn't be telling me that. You need to tell her everything. And if she's willing to listen, you two can figure this out together."

"Guys, we have a situation," Clint cut in, a distant look in his eyes as they darted between Tony and Natasha.

"What situation?" Natasha's voice was sharp, cutting through the heavy silence like a knife.

"Y/N." was all Clint said before turning around and running out of the room. Natasha and Tony both shot each other a distraught look on thier faces. They both ran out of the lab, through the maze of hallways before coming back to the living room.

"What happened?" Natasha asked quietly, a tremble in her words. Wanda shot her a resentful glare, before chiming in.

"I've been trying to check in on Y/N, to make sure she's ok," Wanda's icy stare never left Natashas as she continued. "I couldn't get a hold of her, I realized she left her phone here in her bag by the door when she left."

Natasha's eyes widened with concern. "Where did she go?"

"Well, F.R.I.D.A.Y confirmed she left in her car," Clint chimed in.

"I can't," Wanda's emotions began to surface. "I can't make a connection with her. I tried," she started to cry as the thoughts of what could be wrong with her best friend hit her light a ton of bricks.

"Wha-what do you mean, connection, Wanda?" Natasha asks, her voice trembling as she tries to be strong.

Wanda sniffles, "I mean, I can't feel her. She's either blocked me out," she began, the others waiting on edge. "Or something has happened." She turns away, her shoulders shaking with sobs.

"We need to find her," Natasha says, her voice firm as she stands up, her mind racing. "We can't just sit here."

"Agreed," Tony nods, his mind already racing through the possibilities. "F.R.I.D.A.Y, can you track her car?" The A.I. voice cuts through the silence.

"Y/N's vehicle was last detected upstate, near Poughkeepsie. It's since gone offline."

"How long, F.R.I.D.A.Y?" Natasha asked, her voice now exceedingly stressed as her mind raced to the worst.

"The signal was lost approximately fifty minutes ago." The A.I. responded, cold and emotionless.

Natasha ran, not even grabbing her coat as she flew down the hall to the elevator, pressing the button over and over, willing the steel cube to move any faster.

"I'm coming with you," a cold voice came from Natasha's left. She turned, seeing the tear-stained face of Wanda next to her. "She's my best friend, Natasha. She better be ok. I cannot lose another," Wanda began to cry again.

Tony nodded solemnly, the seriousness of the situation weighing on everyone's shoulders. "F.R.I.D.A.Y, gather the team. We need to find Y/N," he ordered, his voice carrying the gravity of the situation. The A.I. acknowledged with a beep.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, come on!" Natasha yelled at the elevator, seemingly going slower than ever. Wanda remained silent beside her, her eyes swollen and red, her grip on her jacket tight. She had never seen Natasha this scared before, and it scared her even more. The elevator doors finally opened, and Natasha bolted out, running to the garage where the Corvette was parked. Wanda followed close behind, her fears growing with every step.

Natasha hopped in the car, and Wanda took the passenger seat, the silence between them thick with tension. Natasha revved the engine and sped out of the Avengers compound, her eyes focused on the road ahead. They drove in silence, each lost in their thoughts of worry and regret. The little arrow on the vehicle's GPS led a speeding Natasha toward the last location where Y/N's car was detected.

When you came to, the taste of blood was in your mouth, and your vision was blurred. You felt a sharp pain in your side as well as your head, and the world was tilted at an odd angle. You blinked rapidly, trying to clear your head as you tried to move. You realized you were in the driver's seat of your car, the airbag deflated around you like a sad, lifeless pillow. Panic began to set in as you took stock of your surroundings. The car was off the road, deep in the woods, and the smell of burning metal filled your nose. You had been in an accident.

Your car had slammed into a tree, and the side of the vehicle was crumpled inwards, the glass shattered like a jagged crystal sculpture. You fumbled with your seatbelt, trying to free yourself from the confines that had just saved your life. Your thoughts raced back to Natasha, the words she had said, and the look on her face.

Realizing you were upside down, and that you were trying to move, but nothing was happening began to panic you. A warm drip was running up your back, inching towards your neck as you moved your arm, touching to see the crimson liquid coating your fingers. Blood, your blood, was everywhere. The faint sound of a horn was coming from the distance, but you couldn't move. You were pinned in the car.

The cold air was seeping through the cracks in the glass, sending shivers down your spine. You took a deep breath, feeling the pain in your chest and the pressure on your side. You had to get out of here. Your attempts were futile, and you finally gave in to the creeping pain and exhaustion washing over you, your adrenaline quickly wearing off.

Natasha and Wanda were rapidly approaching the area, Natasha's spy senses heightened as Wanda sought any form of connection with you. They wound through the mountainous terrain, coming across a long pair of tire marks on the pavement, leading them to an 18-wheeler that was separated from its trailer, which was a mangled wreck of metal and rubber on the side of the road, the truck on its roof on the side of the road.

"Oh god, no," Natasha whispered at the sight before her.

"Do you think?" Wanda asked the spy, not wanting the confirmation.

"There's another set of tire tracks, but no car," Natasha whispered.

They both jumped out of the Corvette, Natasha's heart racing like a wild horse. She saw the blood on the window and the crumpled metal of the truck, but her concern was elsewhere.

"Call for help!" she yelled at Wanda, running off where the second set of tire marks left the road. She followed the grooves cut deep into the earth, as the tracks led down a steep embankment into the woods that ran below the road.

Her boots crunched through the frosty leaves, and she heard the distant wail of sirens, but Natasha ignored them, focusing solely on finding you. Her eyes scanned the area, looking for any sign of a car, hoping against all odds that it either wasn't you or that you had somehow survived.

As she reached the bottom of the embankment, Natasha's eyes fell upon the crumpled form of your car, wrapped around a massive oak tree. The sight sent a cold shock through her body, and she couldn't help but let out a strangled cry. She sprinted towards the wreckage, her mind racing with scenarios of what she might find.

"WANDA!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, needing the witch's help to get you out of this mangled mess, and fast. The amount of blood coming from the car sent a chill down her spine.

Wanda was already halfway down the hill, her jacket billowing behind her like a storm cloud as she rushed to Natasha's side. "We need to get her out," Natasha said through gritted teeth, her eyes scanning the damage. Wanda's eyes were rimmed with tears as she recognized your car and noticed the blood dripping out of the wreckage.

"Natasha," she let out a strangled sob as she looked at the redhead. "I know this isn't the time or the place, but I swear. that if I lose her, I will make your life hell." she gritted out between sobs, as she allowed her magic to fill up her emotions, her hands glowing red as she began to lift the vehicle the embankment.

Natasha nodded, not arguing with Wanda. She knew she deserved whatever the witch threw at her, and if it meant saving Y/N, she would take it. The car groaned and creaked as it moved through the air, the metal protesting against the invisible force lifting it. Natasha watched in amazement as Wanda managed to pull the car out of the tree, setting it down gently. She rushed to the driver's side, her heart in her throat.

Your body was slumped against the steering wheel, you were unconscious, but breathing.

Natasha's heart skipped a beat as she saw you, her eyes taking in the blood and the bruises that marred your face. She reached in through the shattered window, gently feeling for a pulse at your neck. It was there, steady and strong, and she let out a sigh of relief. "Hold on, Y/N," she whispered, her voice trembling. "We're here, love."

Wanda rushed to the other side of the car, her magic now aiding in the more delicate task of unbuckling your seatbelt and carefully moving you away from the wreckage. Together, they managed to get you out of the car and onto the cold ground. Wanda ripped off her jacket, wrapping it around your trembling body to stave off the cold.

"We need to get her to a hospital," Natasha said, her voice shaking as she assessed the extent of your injuries. Wanda nodded, her eyes never leaving yours. The ambulance pulled up just as Tony and Steve arrived, the Quinjet whirring down just up the road.

"What happened?" Tony called out, rushing over. Natasha could see the fear etched on his face, but she had no words to offer.

"Truck," Wanda managed to say pointing down the road, her voice a hoarse whisper. "It's bad."

Tony and Steve took in the scene, their expressions mirroring Natasha's and Wanda's fear. Without wasting another second, Tony called out to Clint on the Quinjet, "Get Dr. Cho on the line! Tell her we need medical assistance now!"

By now, the police, fire department, and more ambulances had arrived, assessing the scene.

Natasha couldn't move, her eyes never leaving you as the medical personnel rushed over, taking over the care. You were still unconscious, your breaths shallow and uneven. Wanda stood next to Natasha, her hands hovering over your body, trying to find any sign of life, any connection she could use to help you. But it was as if you had completely shut her out.

"Move aside," one of the paramedics said, gently pushing Natasha away. She stepped back, watching as they worked quickly and efficiently to stabilize you. They checked your vitals, applied pressure to the wound on your side, and carefully placed a neck brace around your neck. The sight of your bloodstained clothes and the bruises on your face made Natasha's stomach turn.

Wanda stood next to Natasha, her eyes never leaving your unconscious form. She clenched her fists, the fabric of her jacket around you, her mind racing with every possible way to help. "Go ahead, get in the ambulance with her," Natasha said, her voice strained with emotion. Wanda nodded, understanding the urgency in Natasha's voice. Wanda climbed into the van, Tony finding out what hospital they were taking you to.

Natasha remained outside, watching as the ambulance doors slammed shut and the vehicle sped away, lights flashing and sirens blaring. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Steve, his face etched with worry. "Let's get you to the hospital," he said, his grip firm but gentle. Natasha nodded, swiping at the tears that had started to fall.

Her car's engine roared to life, and Natasha climbed in opposite Steve, her thoughts racing. She had to fix this. She couldn't lose you like this, not when she had just realized how much you meant to her. As Steve took off, she leaned against the passenger door, the engine's vibrations echoing the tremors of fear and regret coursing through her body.

The drive to the hospital was a blur, a cacophony of sirens and flashing lights that seemed to stretch on forever. Natasha's eyes remained fixed on the road ahead, her mind replaying the conversation with Wanda, the accusations, the truth behind her words. It was all so clear now; she had been blinded by her fear of vulnerability, pushing you away when you had only ever offered her warmth and understanding.

When they arrived, Natasha was out of the car before it even came to a complete stop. She sprinted through the hospital doors, the cool antiseptic air slapping her in the face like a cold truth she couldn't escape. Steve followed closely behind, his eyes filled with a silent promise that he would stand by her, no matter the outcome.

The chaos of the emergency room was a stark contrast to the quiet drive, and Natasha felt a new kind of panic set in as she approached the reception desk. The nurse looked up, her eyes scanning the blood and dirt on Natasha's clothes before she spoke. "Miss, can I help you?"

"Y/N, she was brought in by ambulance. Where is she?" Natasha's voice was shaky, her hand gripping the counter's edge.

The nurse's eyes softened as she recognized Natasha, "Room 12, we're doing everything we can.”

Natasha nodded, her legs moving on autopilot as she followed the signs pointing to the emergency department. She could feel Steve's presence behind her, a comforting weight in the sea of chaos that was her world right now. When they reached the room, the sight that greeted them was more than Natasha could handle.

You were surrounded by doctors and nurses, whose hands were covered in your blood as they worked to stop your bleeding. Natasha's eyes filled with horror as she took in the sight of you, so vulnerable and broken. Wanda stood in the corner, her hands shaking as she watched the medical staff fight to keep you alive. The sirens from outside were a muffled echo in the background as if they were in a different world entirely.

"Let's get her into surgery," one of the doctors called out, and Natasha felt her legs give out beneath her. Steve caught her before she hit the floor, his eyes never leaving yours. He whispered something in her ear, but she couldn't hear him over the sound of her own heart pounding in her chest. Steve guided her over to a chair, tears pouring down her face as she broke down. Wanda came over, a somber look on her face, tracks of dried tears evident on her cheeks.

"Tasha," she whispered, her voice trembling with fear. "This isn't your fault, no one could have predicted this." Wanda's hand was cold, but the warmth of her concern was palpable.

But Natasha knew better. She knew that if she had just been honest if she had just allowed herself to love you openly, maybe you wouldn't have felt the need to run. Maybe you wouldn't be fighting for your life right now. "I need to be with her," Natasha choked out, her eyes pleading. Wanda sat next to Natasha, opening her arms for the redhead. "I'm so sorry, Wands." she sobbed, fisting Wanda's shirt as she sobbed into her shoulder.

The witch held her, her own eyes filled with tears. "It's not your fault, Natasha. It's just...fate." Wanda's voice was a mix of anger and sadness, but she knew it wasn't the time to place blame.

Natasha pulled away, wiping her eyes. "No, it's not fate. This is my fault! It's all my fucking fault, Wanda!” she shouted, not caring who heard her. The words were like knives in the air, cutting through the tension. Wanda squeezed Natasha tighter as sobs wracked her body. "If I had just-" she couldn't finish the sentence.

"Nat, no," Wanda cooed quietly, her own emotions beginning to show as the stoic Black Widow broke down in her arms. "It's not your fault," she whispered.

"I...I love her, Wands," Natasha sniffled. "And I hurt her so badly." Wanda squeezed her hand, her eyes brimming with understanding. "I should have never, ever made her feel like that. Like she wasn't enough. All I've wanted is her, for a long time. And you- you're her best friend, I'm so sorry, Wanda."

Wanda took a deep breath, her own heart breaking for Natasha. "I know you do," she whispered. "But she loves you too, Natasha. And she's stronger than anyone I know. She'll pull through this. Just, please, promise me one thing."

Natasha looked up, her eyes red and swollen. "Anything."

Wanda's voice was firm, "When she wakes up, you tell her. Tell her everything. No more hiding, no more games. You owe her that much. All she asks for is honest communication. And if you ever, ever have any doubt, talk to me. Please. Don't hurt her again." Natasha nodded, feeling the weight of Wanda's words sinking into her soul.

The two sat in silence, holding each other in the hallway as Steve and Tony paced in the background. The tension in the air was palpable, a stark contrast to the sterile white walls and the rhythmic beeps of hospital machines. Natasha felt the coldness of the floor beneath her as she leaned against Wanda, the weight of her guilt a heavy burden. They sat for what felt like hours, waiting for any sort of update.

Finally, a doctor emerged, his face a mask of professional calmness. "Miss Romanoff, Miss Maximoff," he said, looking at the two of them. "Your friend is stable, but she's sustained serious injuries. The surgery helped to stabilize her injuries, but she needs rest. We're taking her to her room now."

Natasha shot to her feet, her hand still in Wanda's grip. "Can we see her?" she asked, hope and fear fighting for dominance in her voice.

The doctor nodded solemnly. "For a brief moment. She's still in critical condition, and we need to monitor her closely.”

Natasha and Wanda followed the doctor down the hallway, their hearts pounding in unison with each step. The room was dimly lit, and the beeping of the machines was the only sound that filled the space. You lay there, your face bruised and your body connected to various tubes and monitors. The sight of you, so still and fragile, brought Natasha to her knees in the middle of the room, unable to get any closer to you. Wanda approached silently, rubbing the back of your hand slightly, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. Steve and Tony stayed outside, looking in the window of your room at the scene before them.

"One of you can stay here," the doctor told them, his voice low and understanding, sensing the distress in the room. "But we need to keep the room as quiet as possible." He left them alone with you, and Natasha could feel the weight of the world on her shoulders as she took in the gravity of the situation.

Wanda looked at Natasha, her eyes filled with unspoken words. She squeezed Natasha's hand before letting go and walking out, leaving Natasha by your side. Natasha approached the bed, her eyes taking in every detail of your bruised and broken form. She reached out tentatively, her hand shaking as it hovered over yours, before finally making contact. Your skin was cold, but the warmth of Natasha's touch seemed to seep into you, giving Natasha a glimmer of hope.

“Mne ochen' zhal', moya lyubov'. Ya ne mogu izbavit'sya ot oshchushcheniya, budto ya eto sdelal, kak budto ya vrezalsya v tebya gruzovikom.” Nat whispered, her hand slipping into yours. The feel of your skin on hers calmed her down, as she silently began to cry.

You lay there, unresponsive but alive. The machines beeped in a steady rhythm, and Natasha felt a tiny squeeze in her hand. "You heard me?" she asked, hope blooming in her chest. Another squeeze, slightly stronger this time. "Oh, god. Y/N, baby."

Her eyes searched your face for any signs of consciousness. You stirred slightly, your eyelids fluttering. Natasha leaned in closer, her voice a whisper, "Rest baby, you need your rest. I'm not going anywhere. We can talk when you're in better condition." The words felt heavy in her mouth, like a promise she wasn't sure she deserved to make. But she would keep it, she had to.

Wanda stepped back into the hallway, her eyes wide with hope. "Tony, Steve, she's okay!" she called out into the hallway, her voice carrying the relief she felt. The two men rushed towards the witch, their faces a mix of concern and hope. "Natasha is in there with her now, it's probably best to let Y/N rest for now," she told them, as they watched Natasha hold your hand against her forehead as she knelt next to your bed.

Tony nodded, his shoulders dropping slightly. "Good, keep us updated," he said before leading Steve to the waiting room. Wanda followed behind, feeling a sense of relief that you were ok. Natasha remained at your side, her grip on your hand tightening slightly with every shallow breath you took. She rose, going to the chair in the corner, reclining the seat so she could watch and rest with you within arms reach.

The night was long and painful, filled with Natasha's silent vows to never let you go through this again. She watched as the nurses checked on you, the beeping of the machines the only consistent sound in the quiet room. Every time your hand twitched or your eyelids fluttered, Natasha was there, whispering comforting words, hoping they'd reach you.

As dawn began to break through the windows, the first rays of light touched your pale skin, and you opened your eyes, groaning in pain. Your eyes darted around the room, coming to rest on the redhead who had not gotten a restful sleep, her disheveled state in the chair by your bedside endearing, yet heartbreaking to see. Natasha's eyes shot open, her hand squeezing yours with a sudden jolt of hope.

"Y/N," she whispered, her voice hoarse from the hours of silent vigil. "You're awake."

You blinked, the pain in your head making everything feel fuzzy and far away. "Tasha?" you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Natasha leaned over the bed, her eyes brimming with tears of relief. "Yes, love, it's me." She took your hand in hers, her thumb gently caressing your knuckles. "You're okay, you're going to be okay."

A pained expression crossed her face when you pulled your hand away from hers abruptly. The memory of what led up to your accident flashes through your mind. "I... I can't," you whispered, the words feeling like shards of glass in your throat.

Natasha felt the blood drain from her face as she watched you push her away. She knew that look, the look of hurt and betrayal. "Y/N, please, let me explain," she begged, her voice cracking. But you were already shaking your head, the effort causing you to wince.

"No," you whispered, your eyes filling with tears. "You had your chance."

Natasha shook her head, rising quickly to kneel next to your bed. "Krasivaya devushka," she started. "Please, let me talk. Let me say my piece, and if you still feel the same, I will leave you alone. But please, let me tell you something first."

You studied her, the pain in your chest not just from your injuries but from the raw emotion in Natasha's voice. You nodded weakly, giving her the opening she desperately needed. She took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving yours. "I didn't mean to hurt you," she began, her voice thick with unshed tears. "I've been scared, Y/N. Scared of letting anyone in, scared of losing control. But you...you've never been like anyone else. I have always watched you from the shadows and observed how you treated everyone else. You have a heart of gold, and I was afraid that if I admitted my feelings, I would only end up tarnishing it."

Your gaze softened as she continued. "But when you told me you had feelings for me, I was terrified that someone felt the same way I did about them. I couldn't hide anymore. I love you, Y/N. More than I ever thought I could love anyone. And I'm sorry it took me so long to say it, and even longer to truly understand it." She paused, her thumb gently wiping away a tear that had escaped your eye. "Those things I said, I said out of fear. Fear of my feelings, fear of hurting you, and fear that someone else would see my weakness. Please, let me make this right."

You took a shaky breath, the pain in your chest not just from your injuries but from the ache of Natasha's words. "What...what do you mean?" you managed to ask, your voice a mere whisper.

Natasha looked into your eyes, the depth of her regret and love clear. "I mean that from the moment I met you, I knew you were different. You saw through the walls I've built, you made me laugh, you made me feel...human. And I was scared. I've lost so much, I didn't want to lose you too. So, I pushed you away, hoping that if I didn't let you in, I wouldn't get hurt. But all I did was hurt you, and I'm so sorry." Her eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of forgiveness.

You felt a tear roll down your cheek, the pain of the past hours mixing with the pain of Natasha's confession. "But why now?" you whispered, your voice frail. "Why tell me this when I'm like this, after what happened?"

She let out a deep, watery sigh before continuing. "Malysh, that is my fault. I should have never, ever let it get this far. That night, I felt so much emotion with you. But I kept quiet. I should have told you everything, all of how I felt. I'm so sorry."

You stared at Natasha, her words weighing heavily on your mind. The pain from your injuries was intense, but the emotional turmoil was almost unbearable. You felt torn between your anger and the love you had for her. "I don't know what to say," you murmured, your voice cracking.

Natasha reached out, her hand hovering over your cheek, but she didn't dare touch you, not yet. "You don't have to say anything," she whispered. "I just needed you to know. To understand. I'm not asking for anything in return. I just... I had to tell you."

For a moment, you didn't say anything, just stared into Natasha's eyes, searching for the truth in her words. The silence stretched out between you, filled with the steady beep of the heart monitor and the sound of your shallow breathing. Then, with a sigh, you reached up and took her hand, bringing it to your face. "I love you too, Natasha," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't... I can't just ignore what you said."

Natasha's eyes filled with a mix of hope and pain. "I know," she murmured, her thumb brushing gently against your cheek. "I don't expect you to. I just... I couldn't let you think I didn't care."

You nodded slightly, the movement causing your head to throb. "It's a lot to take in," you admitted, your eyes drooping with exhaustion. "I need time to process."

Natasha's heart sank, but she nodded, understanding. "Of course, malysh. Take all the time you need. I'll be here, whenever you're ready." She leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, the warmth of her lips against your skin sending a shiver down your spine despite the coldness of the hospital room. She turned to walk out of the room, a distant look in her eyes.

"Tash?" you whispered.

Natasha stopped at the door, her hand lingering on the handle. She looked back at you, the hope in your voice resonating through the room. "Yes, baby?"

"Stay."

The word was a mere breath, but it hung in the air like a lifeline thrown to Natasha. She turned back, her eyes searching yours for any sign of what you truly meant.

"Please," you whispered, your voice still weak but filled with a desperation Natasha hadn't heard before. "I don't want to be alone right now."

Natasha's eyes searched yours for any sign of doubt, but all she saw was pain and longing. She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips as she returned to the chair beside your bed. "I'm not going anywhere," she promised, taking your hand in hers once more. The warmth of your skin was a balm to her shattered soul, a silent confirmation that she hadn't lost you completely.

“Kak ty smeyesh' obrashchat'sya s ney tak, budto ona vsego lish' yeshche odno iz tvoikh zavoyevaniy!”

“How dare you treat her like she's just another one of your conquests!”

“Mne ochen' zhal', moya lyubov'. Ya ne mogu izbavit'sya ot oshchushcheniya, budto ya eto sdelal, kak budto ya vrezalsya v tebya gruzovikom.”

“I'm sorry, my love. I can't help but feel like I did it- like I hit you with that truck.”

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