#and growing pain omfg

[taurus-spacecraft]

stand by for life💃💃stand by for life🕺🕺

[dekuneho]

sober ☆ ( ​prohero!katsuki x reader ) mdni | suggestive — liquid courage failed you before, too many times to count. this time, you're staying sharp.

mature content, alcohol/drinking, getting together, katsuki is such a boyfriend for someone who isnt your boyfriend, whipped katsuki my favorite, pov switching, 4k words

Katsuki grunts, scowling at nothing in particular. “Stupid.”

His phone vibrates in his pocket. Katsuki, pissed enough as he is, shoves a hand to squint at the message.

where r u???? hurry the fuck up. pleasee omfg

It’s from Flat Face. Figures.

eat shit and die im almost there

Without Katsuki to play the adult supervision, Sero remains the sober friend in outings, mostly because he can handle his liquor well. Sero badgers on with his texts, begging for Katsuki to hurry before they’re permanently banned at their favorite karaoke bar.

Sero follows up on a recent message with an image attached. Katsuki slows his steps to glare down at his phone. Sero’s real shitty at taking pictures, or it could be someone’s jostling him from the side. None of it matters — Katsuki’s eyes zero in on you lying on Mina’s lap, where the camera had captured you mid-laugh.

“Stupid,” Katsuki repeats, unable to tear his eyes away from your glee for a moment too long. He only snaps back to reality when his phone dims. He must’ve painted a manic picture, staring at his phone like a damn creep. Fuck.

He’ll see the real deal in a minute, but still, he saves the image in his phone gallery. That’s between him and his phone.

Katsuki ignores the crisp breeze brushing his bare face. His nose twitches, growing numb; he feels his hands ache in traces of pain that come to bloom when it’s met with a sharp chill. This feeds his irritation further, yet it’s telling that he continues to walk down the road, as if turning back home was never an option in his head.

The attendant appears relieved to see him; whether it’s from recognition of the #5 hero or the acknowledgment of this establishment’s savior from rowdy pro heroes, Katsuki will never know. Katsuki doesn’t even need to ask — she just hurries him to the far corner room where his shitty friends are situated. He mutters his thanks. She just tells him good luck. Damn.

Katsuki pulls the sliding door open and is instantly greeted by the stench of alcohol. Sero’s picture hadn’t done enough justice; seeing it in real life is worse. It’s like the aftermath of a nasty villain attack if it came in the form of piles and piles of beer and alcohol puddles and bar snacks all over the table. Kirishima’s knocked out on Sero’s shoulder, drooling. Jirou is also fast asleep, taking an entire couch, leaving Sero to huddle uncomfortably on the edge of a corner. Mina’s holding the microphone, but nothing’s playing; she’s just singing shit. You’re laughing at Mina, clutching your stomach.

He nearly stumbles over a leg belonging to Kaminari, who’s sprawled on the floor for some fucking reason.

“The fuck happened?” he hisses, narrowly missing Kaminari's arm swinging to latch onto his ankle.

Cheers erupt from all around the table when they register Katsuki’s arrival. Sero looks like a single parent of five — which may just be the case.

Sero sighs. “It’s like I blinked and was left with this.”

Katsuki snorts. At least he knows how it feels. He's felt that way since year fucking one.

He steps over Kaminari's body, ignoring his cry, heading straight towards you. Raccoon eyes is talking to Katsuki — something about him being a jackass for bailing on tonight, not that Katsuki gives a single fuck.

“Killjoy. Boring. You’re getting boring, old man!” Mina yells at his face.

“Fuck off,” Katsuki says reflexively. “We’re celebrating again next week anyway. Don’t start with me.”

You beam at him, hands reaching out like a fucking child or something. He begins to pry you off Mina’s lap, but his hold under your arms gives notice to how you’re shivering.

Katsuki shrugs his coat off and drapes it over you. Looks like he’ll have to take you home himself.

“Sero,” Katsuki voices in a bite, glaring over his shoulder.

Sero rushes to service as Katsuki shifts to his back, leaving Kirishima to sag beside Jirou, their snores harmonizing. Sero drags you to settle on Katsuki’s back, where Katsuki quickly hunches over and shifts his palms under your thighs. You mumble happily, burrowing your nose into the nape of his neck.

Katsuki slings a heated warning in Sero’s direction before the bastard can laugh about it.

“Call a cab,” he grunts out. “Wake Shitty Hair up; he can help you with those shits.”

Sero flicks a hand in a mock salute.

It was a tedious process, but everyone managed, eventually. They all crash at Kirishima’s house. They’ll be fine. And if someone’s house burns down — well… they’re heroes, they’ll still be fine.

Katsuki adjusts his hold, exiting the bar as the cab drives off. He walks, the cold billowing a soft cloud in each breath.

“You awake back there?” he asks, staring ahead.

“Mm, you take such good care of me, Katsukiii,” you coo in his ear, your lips brushing over the shell of his ear.

He shivers, feeling warmth creep up the back of his neck. You laugh irritatingly, grating his nerves and fluttering his stomach. He bristles at the sensation, snarling nonsense that you don’t even listen to, too busy giggling over damn who-knows-what.

“Walking me back to your home, huh? What are you, my bodyguard? You big, strong … hunk of a man…”

Katsuki huffs in amusement. “Yeah?”

“Katsuki,” you drawl, your hand sliding over his bicep. “You’re so good to me. You take care of me, y’know?”

“I know,” Katsuki says, devoid of its usual snark. “‘s ‘cause you can’t do it yourself.”

“Ha-ha!” You lean your chin on his shoulder. “Yeah… yeah, you’re right. Wish you could … take care of me like this … forever.”

“Idiot,” Katsuki says, mostly to himself. You don’t respond either way.

Katsuki can fucking smell the alcohol reeking from your mouth. He’s about to tell you off, complain about your goddamn stink, but you’ve gone limp in his hold.

“Do you mean that?” Katsuki starts, and it’s met with silence. Then, snoring.

Katsuki doesn’t smile, but the by-passers would argue otherwise.

This is bad. Starting to get bad.

You got somewhat shit-faced drunk in hopes of making a move on Katsuki with liquid courage, but he’d taken care of you so well that you didn’t even have a hangover as an excuse the moment you jolted to consciousness. Your head is starting to clear up, losing its fog and illusion of confidence, and your brain is running off at full speed.

This isn’t the first time you’ve sobered up while in the warmth of Katsuki’s bed, an hour or so after he whisked you away from your shared friend group.

What the fuck am I doing? You want to punch something and scream, ideally where Katsuki can’t see you throwing a tantrum.

You turn to your side where Katsuki’s still in deep sleep, shoulders rising and falling at once like a decrescendo, slow and steady. It’s a heart-aching sight — achingly bare.

He has his back turned. You hold your breath and peek over, hands catching an inch away from Katsuki’s face, catching a view of his mouth open just a tiny bit for quiet snores to come out. It’s unbearably cute. He must’ve been tired, having to take care of your careless drunk ass all night, and it’s not even the first time.

This isn't anything new either — sleeping on the same bed. You remember it from the first night. He shrugged it off, saying he didn't want to carry your ass anymore. You're already makin' me take care of your dumb ass every time this shit happens — you expected me to go 'n sacrifice the bed I bought with my own money?

"Scandalous," you said, at the time, reeling from how defensive Katsuki had been.

"Not like I'm gonna do anythin' to you." Katsuki stared you down. "Why? You wanted me to?"

How embarrassing to resort to liquid courage and still fail.

This has to end. You are definitely not aiming to become a drunkard just to have a chance with your crush.

“Morning,” a gravelly voice mutters, breath hot on your face.

You come to the startling realization that you've been hovering over Katsuki for longer than you intended. His intense gaze arrests yours, tension hanging in the hair. Like doused in a bucket of cold water, you jerk away and flounder, half-baked syllables spilling as some attempt of an excuse. There is no other explanation for that — you were ogling Katsuki in his sleep.

Katsuki doesn’t smirk, but the mirth lighting in his eyes comes very close to it. He pulls you to his side, gripping one of your wrists and positioning it on the other side of his head. He adjusts your hold until you’re pinning him down.

You choke on your breath. “What—”

This time, Katsuki grins. “You're gonna strain your shoulders, idiot.”

Dangerous man, the primal instincts of your brain scream, flinching away, hissing. The hormonal side begs you to pounce on him and wipe that smug expression off his handsome face.

You quickly pull back, recoiling away, only to find yourself back up to the firm surface of Katsuki’s thigh, where he had lifted it in his wake. The shock sends a sharp jolt of aching pain at your violent reaction. You whimper and clutch at your head, dizziness inciting a pathetic: Owww.

“Don’t move so much, fucking dipshit,” Katsuki hisses, easing your hips down on his other thigh that’s laid flat on the bed. “Don’t you fuckin' dare throw up so goddamn early. Shit, it’s like, what, four AM?”

You sag against him, feeling at ease without the strain of your muscles holding your weight up. Katsuki’s like a mountain mass furnace — how nice. You don’t even register that you’re all but straddled on his thigh; if anyone were to walk in, they’d be well within their rights to assume the worst.

Katsuki cranes his neck as he reaches for a glass. You jostle at the movement, grumbling, and Katsuki mutters a quiet ‘sorry,' holding the water to your lips. You take gulps of water slowly, careful not to spill and ruin Katsuki’s strangely soft mood.

“Thanks,” you say. Katsuki’s actions and the weight of his tone — everything is off-kilter with the mood that’s just set. He’s really… “Sorry for the trouble,” you say in a hushed whisper, guilt settling in.

“If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t,” Katsuki snaps, frown deepening. His eyes don’t convey the same ire.

“Yeah.” You nod, fond. “You don’t do anything you don’t want to, huh?”

Katsuki’s expression shifts. Just slightly, before it melts back into practiced blankness. “So?”

Everything’s straightforward with Katsuki. But even then — even then, he might not mean it in the same way as you’re hoping.

“I wasn’t that drunk, you know.” You want to look away, but you’re finding it difficult to even try. “I never was. I — I know this is the third time this happened.”

Katsuki lifts a brow. “You remember the first time you threw up in my car then?”

Your face erupts in flames. “I’m so sorry.”

Katsuki pushes you by the small of your back, closer to him. You swallow back an embarrassing noise, somehow quick enough to balance yourself on his chest before you plant your nose to his face. Katsuki’s ruby gaze pins you down, even when you’re the one on top of him. Dangerous, dangerous, leave, your brain yowls. Your body, your heart — stays incredibly still, obedient in the face of the man who's got you weak.

“Do you remember what you said last night?” Katsuki asks, several octaves deep. Roused freshly from slumber.

You squirm. His skin feels hot to the touch, even through his fucking black tank top. “I said a lot of dumb shit, Katsuki.”

“Do you mean them, then?”

You file through your memories, trying to pinpoint precisely what he’s talking about. Katsuki’s patient, seemingly content with keeping you on his lap, staring. You’re the humiliated one here.

“What did I say?” you demand, nerves constricting in your chest.

Katsuki pushes his torso up with a hand, inching his face impossibly close. The heat of his gaze spreads through your entire body. You’re sure he can feel it, too — hard to miss when you’re a lapful of a flighty cat perched on him.

His nose brushes against yours, eyes flickering down. Your breath hitches, caught in the hush of the moment.

“Katsuki?” you ask in a fearful whisper. Katsuki’s eyes snap back to meet your gaze.

“‘m hungry,” Katsuki mutters, leaning back.

Your face burns, his warmth lingering on the space before you. Your hands touch over your face, winded. Still aware of Katsuki’s intense gaze, you pull off from his lap, ignoring the scream of your headache as you dash to the kitchen.

You really thought he was going to kiss you.

No, maybe it's more accurate to say you were hoping for it. You almost pleaded for him to. Had he lingered, you would’ve thrown yourself all over him, begging, Please, please, Katsuki kiss me — I need you. How embarrassing is that? To need someone so badly that he's your waking thought, and yet you hate seeing him around?

Instead, the morning ended with Katsuki lending his shirt and driving you back to your apartment — a set routine — the third time. You talked to ease the tension, but it was a fruitless attempt at the question hanging in the air, dangling in front of both your faces. Katsuki doesn’t bring it up, so you hang onto the sliver of mercy he’s granted.

The week passes, and still, you aren't quite ready when another chance comes again.

You wonder if he’ll bring it up tonight.

This time, the party is in honor of celebrating Katsuki’s — Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight — ascension to the Top 5 in the Pro Hero ranking. Katsuki’s not surprised, but most of the class is; he hasn’t laid off on the crude language, so it’s a wonder he even got into the Top 10 at all.

Most of your former classmates are busy with their duties and patrol, and Katsuki isn’t keen on inviting more than five people to his house. Unfortunately for him, Kirishima, Kaminari, Mina, Sero, Jirou, and Kaminari wouldn’t miss this celebration for the world — Villains be damned, it’s Bakugou Katsuki’s big day. It’s an unspoken agreement that you tag along. Katsuki also texted you that you were late an hour ago, so it’d be no use for anyone to upset Katsuki.

Of course, parties go hand-in-hand with alcohol. You had been avoiding Katsuki since that night, fleeing at every glimpse of blond hair. No one has noticed, except maybe Katsuki, whose eyes linger on you for five seconds longer than usual when you knock on his door.

His gaze sends a lick of heat down your spine, and the night’s just starting.

There needs to be a change of plans. If trapping him drunk doesn’t work after three failed attempts, then you have no choice but to do it sober.

That scrap of interest Katsuki had shown last week was more than enough encouragement. If you don’t end up confessing your feelings tonight, then that just means you’re never meant to do it at all — which would’ve been the easiest way out if Katsuki didn’t make it so hard.

“Hey,” you say. "I'm here."

“Finally,” he mutters. Your lips quirk up in humor.

Katsuki’s gaze slips from your collarbone to your thighs before flicking back up. A flame of interest makes itself known to you, to your chagrin. You’re no better: Katsuki’s dressed in low-hung jeans and a black fitted tank top under a striking red button-down, sleeves rolled up to his elbow. How can he make a simple nothing look so sinful?

Katsuki steps back, presenting the surprisingly neat get-together your friends have set up. There’s a buffet of food spread across Katsuki’s dining table — and because you know Katsuki well enough to be privy to his skills in the kitchen, you can tell he cooked all of them. There are banners spelling his name out beside Congratulations!, which must be Katsuki’s limit, seeing the lack of confetti.

“You’re here!” Mina shrieks, bounding over to encase you in a tight hug.

Air knocks out of your lungs as she squeezes your neck. You tap Mina’s back in distress. The room lights up with laughter, greeting you in turn. Kaminari moves to ruffle your hair, but his eyes catch on something behind you, and he pales and hides behind an amused Kirishima.

Katsuki heads to the kitchen island, alcohol lined up in a neat pile. You decide firmly that you are not getting drunk — you will power through with your plan, and that’s your mission for the day.

You pump your fist once and exhale roughly. Plus Ultra! Mina says you look stupid, dragging you off to the living room.

You’re squished between Kaminari and Mina, who throw their heads back for a shot.

True to your word, you denied any shot glasses offered, instead busying your mouth with the food Katsuki cooked. It's too bad you can't shut your brain the same way.

It’s tempting — really, really tempting. You haven’t been able to approach Katsuki, feeling too much like you should just forget about whatever plan you had for a confession and ride the tide back to normalcy. To get shitfaced drunk and leave it for you to deal with in the morning. But whenever you meet Katsuki’s eyes — it’s like you’re back on his bed, he’s too close for comfort, and you're reminded of all those mornings you wished was so much more last night, and the itch for alcohol is swept away.

Mina rests her head on the curve of your shoulder, her hair tickling your cheek. She asks, too nonchalantly for your liking—

“Have you and Katsuki fucked this week yet?”

You’re fortunate enough to have decided to skip alcohol for tonight, or else you would’ve died from choking on it. You glance over, hoping Katsuki hadn't been paying attention, but to your relief, he was absorbed in a discussion with Kirishima. “I’m — Have we — What?!”

Mina barrels on obliviously. “Had sex. Gotten busy. Under the covers. Hands-on learning—”

“No, I — What the fuck!” You shove her off. Mina sways in place; you'd feel sorry if you weren’t so scandalized. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Oh.” Mina tilts her head and watches your reaction thoughtfully. “No wonder why. Katsuki’s looking all tense lately.”

What the hell. “So?!”

Your shriek disturbs the peace of the party.

Kaminari chimes in to add to the blow. You lock eyes with Katsuki from across the room — must be the ninth time this evening — while Mina and Kaminari crowd in on you, relentless with probing curiosity. “I also thought he was acting like he was lacking some action—”

Blood rushes to your cheeks as you rip your gaze off Katsuki’s questioning stare. Then, in a low whisper, “Katsuki and I have never — we aren’t even—”

Kaminari turns his head, presumably to eye Katsuki. “Why does he look like he’s about to eat you up?”

“Do I look like I can read his mind?” You feel irritation like a blade on your nerves. “If he’s all tense, then he should get his dick wet — and I’m not involved in any of that.”

Mina gapes, disgusted. “What? You’d just let him fool around with someone else?”

“Why would that be my issue?”

Mina and Kaminari share a look. “Oh my god.” 

“You’re actually not together? Not even, like — just fooling around as friends?”

“No, Kaminari.” You hate how you sound defeated admitting that. “No, we’re not.”

“Fuck,” says Mina emphatically. “Fuck! You’ve got to fuck!”

“What — Why is this my responsibility? If he’s happy fucking someone else, let him be — You want him to loosen up, don’t you?”

Mina’s face shifts into a devious little thing. “You look like you want him to loosen you up.”

"That's so gross, Ashido."

Kaminari grins knowingly. “You jealous? Why’s that, huh?”

“Because I’ve been wanting to confess to him for two months now, and my liquid courage is nothing but a fucking cock-blocker!” you hiss in a frantic whisper.

“We’ve got to fix this!” Mina says, the hero that she is. “We need you to get laid!”

“Please tone it down,” you plead.

Kaminari tugs you down in a mock of a team huddle. You squirm uncomfortably; you can taste the liquor in their breaths. “What’s your game plan?” he asks. “Seduce him? Lock him up in his room, maybe?”

“I guess? I just want to do it sober.”

Mina suddenly leaps to her feet, yelling like a soldier. “Isolate him, then force your love!”

“Sober and preferably not unhero-like.”

Mina squeals, cupping your cheeks. “Do it tonight. He’s ready, I can feel it. He’s looking at you.”

Everyone in the room is casting glances at the three of you, but thankfully, Sero, Jirou, and Kirishima are respectful enough not to approach and disrupt the troubling conversation for your dignity’s sake.

“Of course he’s looking at me,” you wallow in mortification. “You’re making it too obvious. I’m going to get bullied.”

Mina smirks, her gaze trained ahead. “Yeah, you’re going to get bullied alright.”

You splutter, “What do you mean—”

Katsuki hovers over you three. “Let’s talk,” he demands, glaring hotly.

You’re back in Katsuki’s room, this damned space — the source of all your longing dreams and fantasies. The music from downstairs dials up, though it seems like it’s more out of consideration for you both. You’d been whisked away by Bakugou Katsuki once again, both of you blatantly disregarding the obscene gestures Mina and Kaminari were making as he pulled you upstairs. This time, however, you’re as sober as ever. It feels so different, like you're pulled out after submerging in the water for too long. Everything is so loud and clear.

Katsuki cages you against his door, never one to mess around.

“If I made you uncomfortable, punch me,” Katsuki says out of nowhere.

You’re speechless. “What?”

“Just — yell at me or some shit. Don’t start avoidin’ me, and don’t just move on to some other extra,” Katsuki mutters, deliberately averting your wide eyes. Move on to another— "I'll leave you alone."

"Why would I…" Move on to someone else? That's almost disrespectful to all the pining that's fucked with your head since this crap started. Move on? From Bakugou Katsuki?

"You were talking about it with those assholes."

Oh. He overheard all the wrong parts.

"I'm not gonna hook up with anyone else!"

The tension that has coiled tightly around his shoulders eases. Yet, despite this, he still hadn't made any bold moves to lead you to his bed, holding onto a fragile thread of hesitation that lingered in the air between you. Like you didn't just admit you're exclusively waiting for him.

His face twists up. “And, about that night, I wasn’t gonna — fuck, I’m not gonna do shit you don’t want, but I can’t read your mind. I don't wanna fuck this up.”

“What are we talking about?”

“The kiss, dammit — shit. Get it straight before I get the wrong idea.” Katsuki groans, resting an arm above your head. Is it wrong to be so endeared by someone clearly struggling to get his point across? “Do you mean it?”

You furrow your brows, arms crossed. This again. “What did I say, Katsuki?”

“When you said you wanted me to take care of you forever.”

What the hell? Did you really say that? Screw the exclusiveness of sex, that was basically a proposal!

Katsuki hooks a finger on your chin and forces your gaze back to him. Pay attention to me. Your eyes drift away for a second, catching on his ears, tinted ears — in contrast to his fierce scowl.

Your shoulders relax somewhat. Then you can't help but laugh.

Right, this is still just Katsuki. Your best friend, crush since forever; the guy who took care of you without even asking for anything in return. The guy who apparently has been considering your boundaries even though you've been seducing him drunk too many times.

“Why are you laughing,” Katsuki hisses; his frustration sounds more agitated than furious.

“So you did want to kiss me that morning?”

“No shit,” Katsuki huffs in a humorless laugh. “But, fuck, I’m not shitty enough to force you—”

“Katsuki,” you interrupt, “you should’ve.”

He falls silent, red eyes piercing yours searchingly.

Dangerous, your mind whispers, but you’ve never wanted to experience a thrill like this in your life. “I really wanted you to.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re lucky you took good care of me before I pounced on you drunk,” you say, and you mean it too. Your hands snake over his shoulder, tugging him down.

Katsuki’s breath catches in his throat, looking caught off guard. Wide-eyed and unsure. Cute. “Are you drunk right now?” he asks carefully.

“Never been more sober in my life,” you breathe.

He dives in for a rough kiss, one hand on the back of your head to push you deeper into him. You tilt your head to the side and — yeah, that’s better. Katsuki pries your mouth open, coaxing noises out of you that he each answers with a groan.

He smells like alcohol in his breath. It mixes with the scent of smoke — a dizzying, cloying scent that screams Katsuki. You want this more than Katsuki realizes. You want to sleep with it, to wake up to it.

“How much did you drink?” you ask.

“Just two light ones,” Katsuki says, and then one side of his lip quirks up. “Thought I had to take your ass home again.”

You smile coyly, tracing a finger over his bicep. “We can skip the foreplay — I'm already in your home, aren't I?”

Katsuki goes very, very still. Staring blankly. You hope you can convey it — you hope he doesn’t back out and pull away. You know he’ll get it. Katsuki is smart enough to pick up on your pleading gaze. His eyes burn; clearer, now, bright with understanding. 

I want this, too. You’re not sure if you or Katsuki said it.

You take his daze as a chance to push him to his bed, with you straddling legs as his eyes devour every inch of you.

“Get the fuck out of here if you don’t want me to fuck you right now,” Katsuki says seriously.

You settle over his thigh, mimicking that morning, hands splayed on his chest. Katsuki wheezes out a breath that sounds like he’s been slammed onto a wall, his grip latching onto either side of your hips right away.

“Take care of me again?” you ask.

“Holy fuck,” Katsuki says.

© dekuneho 2024. do not plagiarize, repost, modify, translate. do not input this to AI.

if you read my previous drabble ik i recycled it… but in my defense this one came first. thanks for reading mwa

[lovieku]

GOOD LUCK, BABE! #4 ⋆ 정국

what happens when you leave everything behind, only to be faced with it again years later? eunbi is convinced she was given another shot at keeping all she ever wanted, but it’s difficult when that all is her childhood best friend who doesn’t want to do anything with her anymore. how to earn his trust back?

☾ pairing: non idol!jk x fem!oc

☾ genre: childhood friends to strangers, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, smut

☾ word count: 21.8k

☾ warnings: huhhhh. Angst! jeongguk being a pain in the ass for no reason. well sorta kinda! lots of cute fun moments with the group. until jeongguk comes and ruins it all. (no but i love him). unserious banter until it gets serious, again. pov switch! angst angst angst. mentions of blood!!! fluff if you squint. jealousy if you squint, like, really hard.

☾ author’s note: HELLOOOO first of all happy (late) birthday namjoonie <3 second of all IM FINALLY HERE!!! and this chapter is so long omfg. i got carried away and realised way too late. was too deep in! hope you can enjoy, i love love them sm, its worth getting to the end!

ps: if you read this, lmk what u enjoy more between eunbi’s pov and jk’s pov. it wont change the way i write the story, im just curious!! okay bye <3

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four ⋆ good 4 u

Sleep doesn’t find Eunbi that night. Her mind runs from it, busy searching for something else, grasping for answers to questions that don’t have one. And if they do exist, they get lost in a haze of sadness. Anger. Helplessness. Sadness again.

When Dahye joins her in their shared tent, Eunbi’s eyes are hollow, devoid of any emotion. Her ears still ring with a distant noise, struggling to pick up her friend’s passionate reassurances. Still, she lets herself be held, and comforted by words her brain can’t quite grasp, head resting on Dahye’s chest, a gentle hand running through her hair. For a moment, feeling the soft rhythm of her friend’s breath, she clings to the comfort of her presence, hoping it might anchor her in some way, keep her from completely drifting away.

But everything she has been trying to shut out comes crashing down on her fragile figure the moment she feels Dahye’s arms grow weaker around her, and her breaths getting heavier as sleep takes her. Silent tears trace a path down her cheeks, while loud, screaming thoughts make her head throb and keep her awake all night. She regrets being here; regrets naively hoping things could be mended so easily; regrets the way she stayed quiet the first moment she laid eyes on Jeongguk after all those years; knows it’s her fault.

By morning, the sun having climbed its way in the sky for a couple hours already and its rays forcing themselves in their shelter with unwanted light, she can sense Dahye subtly stir under her. Immediately, Eunbi shuts her eyes closed, feigning deep slumber. Instead, her very awake ears perk when she can feel fussing, Dahye sitting up and ultimately shaking the seemingly unconscious girl’s shoulder, “Bibi?”

If all goes wrong, at least Eunbi could win an Oscar for her performance, the way her eyelids flutter open, slow and heavy, only after rubbing them, and a big yawn escapes her mouth. That wasn’t too fake after all, her body weary with the all-nighter. Dahye doesn’t notice, her smile soft, “Did you sleep well? Are you feeling a bit better?”

Eunbi simply nods, her expression void. She barely registers the other girl mentioning something about washing up, and breakfast, “I’ll leave you some time. But if you’re not out by the time I’m done in the bathroom, I’m dragging your ass out.” Just like that, she slips out of the tent.

Left alone once again with silence, Eunbi listens to the faint noises outside— the muffled voices of her roommate greeting Hoseok and Yoongi. At that, the urge to cry returns, and she feels tears sting at her bottom lashes, threatening to spill. But this time, she holds them back. She knows she can’t let herself break down, not now. Not with everyone outside, and especially not with Jeongguk. Still, she doesn’t think the sorrow written all over her features will go unnoticed.

She feels like an outsider, an intruder trespassing on sacred ground. As if the moment she steps out, all eyes will be on her miserable figure, stripping her bare, judging her poor choices, the ones that lead Jeongguk to spit venom in her face hours ago. Making it clear that she doesn't belong there, that she will never be part of what they already have. Of what Jeongguk has built after her.

Last night, she tried to blame him. She wanted to be angry at him, to turn her hurt into something tangible, something outside of herself. But she couldn't. In the end, she could only turn the anger inward, could only blame herself. Being called a bitch by the best person she's ever known, in front of her university friends, was a brutal wake up call. A reminder of how far she has fallen.

The weight of those thoughts paralyses her for a long moment, while a squeaky, high-pitched voice in the back of her brain screams at her to move, if only to avoid the pitying glance she might receive when Dahye returns. Still, her body protests, limbs heavy and muscles tight from the lack of sleep in the small, uncomfortable place.

With a deep breath that quivers in her chest, she forces herself up. For a second, her hand hesitating at the tent’s entrance and hovering over the zipper, she contemplates hiding in here forever, away from the discomfort. But she knows better. The world outside is waiting, and no amount of hesitation will make it disappear. Quickly throwing on a light pink crewneck over her pyjama shorts, she steps out.

Cool air brushes against her skin in a tender manner, gently welcoming her and seemingly easing her nerves. Before she’s forced to acknowledge the others, she moves quickly, her flip flops clad feet making their way to the small wash station. She hopes the freezing water she repeatedly splashes on her face will cleanse away the fog of the sleepless night, and wishes it could also wash away the weight pressing down on her chest. In the mirror, she convinces herself the dark circles under her eyes aren’t that dark after all, and that the unsettling smile she’s practising is convincing enough to finally join Dahye outside.

The makeshift breakfast setup is simple: a few snacks, some bread, fruit. Namjoon, Taehyung and Aera have also joined the small gathering, making it seven of them now, while the others seem to still be asleep in their tents. Eunbi can hear the casual chatter of the group, the way their voices blend together in an easy rhythm that feels foreign to her now.

With her head down, she picks at the small offerings, not really tasting anything, her appetite almost nonexistent. She almost misses Yoongi’s voice beside her, “Did the creams work?”

Eunbi startles slightly, her gaze darting to the older boy, who wears a sweet grin on his lips. She nods, mirroring his smile timidly. Yoongi makes a show of inspecting her nose as he leans closer, without going over the invisible boundary, his eyes squinting with exaggerated seriousness as he impersonates a doctor’s authority, “Yes, yes. They definitely worked. My patient looks so much better now.�� His voice mocks a solemn tone, and it makes the girl heartily giggle.

She’s surprised to see this side of the boy, and she briefly wonders if he’s putting on this act just for her sake, because the misery on her features is that obvious even to him, who left the campfire way before the incident had happened. Either way, it works— she feels herself relax, if only a little, sinking back into her chair with a bit more ease.

Then, Aera asks her about the hoodie she’s wearing, going on about how it compliments her complexion perfectly and Dahye chimes in, explaining how it had originally belonged to her, but after the other girl borrowed it once she decided it looked so much better on her friend that she insisted Eunbi kept it. The recalling of those times keep her distracted, the smile on her face growing bigger as Namjoon makes sure she’s refilling her stomach properly, insisting that she needs her strength for the day’s activities, the worry in his furrowed brows making her feel part of something again.

Just as she begins to think she might make it through this, she senses a shift in the atmosphere. Besides her, Dahye tenses, and Aera clears her throat. Eunbi doesn’t have to look up to know why. Jeongguk has joined them. She can feel his presence like a dark cloud hanging over her, suffocating.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, her eyes lift to meet his. His gaze is sharp, eyes shadowed by dark circles that suggest he’s had as restless a night as she has. There’s no trace of warmth, no hint of the familiarity they used to share. Just cold, hard resentment. For a fleeting second, she wills herself to desperately search his face for any sign that she hasn’t lost everything, that there’s still something worth saving. But he quickly diverts his eyes, turning his attention to the others and slipping easily into their conversation. Once again, she feels like a stranger intruding on his world.

As the group’s attention shifts to the boy, Eunbi finds herself spiralling back into her thoughts, struggling to grasp onto anything solid, anything that makes sense. She knows how this will play out: both of them only pretending the other doesn’t exist, but making it clear that same presence is despised, the petty glares and spiteful comments building until one of them finally snaps, just like last night.

To some extent, she understands his frustration. After all, she’s the unwanted guest at his birthday, a painful reminder of a past he’d rather forget. But understanding doesn’t make it hurt any less. She wasn’t expecting to be openly degraded, with such hatred in his face; to feel small and unwelcome in a place that feels as much hers as his. What can she do? It’s not as if she can just get up and disappear. She’s there, he’s there, and they’re stuck in this awkward dance.

He hasn’t tried to make it any less awkward. Her attempts at being civil have been outright dismissed, and the memory of it fills her with the same rage that bubbled up last night. And as she observes him, it only intensifies. She feels herself cycling through the five stages of grief at an inhumane speed and without following its original order, having skipped straight to depression and now bouncing back to anger. When Jeongguk’s eyes meet hers again, the smile he had been giving Jimin fades instantly. She hates that look.

All that heaviness from last night feels like it has been sucked out of her chest, suddenly devoid of any of the previous gloom that had led her to sad tears streaming her cheeks and impending guilt putting her at fault. Nothing’s left, except this tight, burning knot. It’s not sadness anymore, it’s a hot, fierce feeling coiling in her stomach.

It’s Hoseok who breaks the spell, demanding all of their attention on him, his voice taking on a loud and excited tone. Eunbi struggles to make sense of his words through the fog of anger, her slowed down thought process only registering them when the collective holler that follows fully snaps her out of her trance and pulls her back to the present. The first, opening activity of the trip would be trekking. She doesn’t even bother to fake enthusiasm.

It’s only the second day at the campsite, and Eunbi already has a list long enough to fill an entire notebook of reasons why she never should have come. First of all, whatever fragile hope she had about making things right with Jeongguk has probably died a quick death only in those first few hours. And the rest of the trip? It’s packed with outdoor activities that she wouldn’t really proclaim herself a fan of. Did she even consider that before agreeing to this? The small kid still living inside her most likely saw the words “Jeongguk” and “birthday” and hit yes without a second thought. Not paying any mind to the fact that the two of them are no longer those kids in Busan.

When she glances back at said Busan boy, the previous negativity is washed off his face and instead, his eyes are bright and animated, geeking about today’s trek. Her chest tightens, again. It stings. He looks exactly the way he always has, like the Jeongguk she knows, except she’s not the reason for that look on his face, anymore.

It makes her think. Overthink. Weigh her options. Trying to map out the safest way to move around this minefield. Just moments ago, the sight of him had her blood boiling, the fire in his eyes igniting a stronger spark in her own. But she’s also aware her current position doesn’t paint her as the one entitled to put all the blame on him. Especially when this is supposed to be his trip, a way to celebrate with the people he’s building a new life with. She was never part of the equation, and she gets it. A wrong combination led to unwanted results, and now neither of them know how to find the right pieces and put them back together. None of the numbers are adding up.

She doesn’t feel like letting her resentment take over, at least not here and now; last night only went to show emotions are definitely not needed to decode the problem. She’ll carry them quietly, maybe even figure out some kind of solution along the way. Discover different sequences of calculations that could make sense.

For now, she’s set on ignoring him and making sure her presence is ignored back; avoiding a problem and avoiding creating one. Is this the stage of acceptance? If that’s what it can be called, she welcomes it with a long, liberating breath, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Dahye.

Except, several more huffs follow, and Dahye is there to endure all of them: when they’re back in the tent, Eunbi slapping on some concealer to cover her dark circles, then trying to disguise her pallid complexion with blush, ending up groaning and turning to her concerned friend with drawn up eyebrows, “Did I overdo it?”; as she’s zipping up her white tennis skort; rummaging her bag for ages only to slip on the most basic black oversized t-shirt; taking forever to tie her Converses.

Dahye stalls. She’s aware they’re late, can sense it in the way Hoseok is subtly raising his voice outside to make himself heard, “It’s not like we’re totally late on our schedule. Take your sweet time, guys!” He’s sarcastic, if his shaky laughter is anything to go by.

She also knows she doesn’t want to be eaten alive by her best friend, knows better not to rush her right now. She’s had enough experience living with her. So she stays quiet, puts up with her friend’s small crisis and lets her deal with it on her own. Only when it seems like she’s over with it, Dahye calmly asks Eunbi if she feels like she’s ready to go. The answer is uncertain, but Dahye grasps on that small percentuality of sureness and exits the tent either way, before Hoseok turns out to be the one eating her alive.

When they finally step out to join the group, Eunbi releases one last dramatic sigh, and the prolonged sound of it translates into Dahye’s right eyelid twitching. She tries composedly, at first, “Bibi, will you stop doing that?”

”Doing what?”

”Sighing like you’re a damn war veteran!” Her exasperation draws a few chuckles from their friends, including a sneaky giggle from Jimin, observing the interaction and getting Dahye’s attention in the process.

Eunbi mutters a small sorry, the apology dismissed by her now distracted friend, seemingly having forgotten the whole ordeal in a matter of seconds. The other girl seizes the moment to vent, “I’m just getting more stressed by the minute about this whole thing. I told you I shouldn’t have come. What if, I don’t know— I get hurt?” Her eyebrows are raised, dramatic act on, pout displayed, “I’ll blame you.”

Dahye is clearly unimpressed, rolling her eyes amusedly at Eunbi’s efforts, “Bi, you’ll be okay. Just fine.” She faces the shorter one now, hands on her shoulders like a mother sending her child off to summer camp. Well, technically she is about to do that, “Why don’t you try mingling with the others? Let’s pretend I don’t exist. Yeah!”

Dahye’s convincing nods are comically mirrored by Eunbi shaking her head, the desperation on her features going ignored by her taller friend. The last thing she wants right now is exactly mingling with the others. Dahye goes on dissimulating, “Stick next to Namjoon. He, huh— he knows about this kinda stuff. I guess? I’ll catch up with Jimin, okay? Bye, babe!”

Eunbi’s childish protests fall on deaf ears as the other girl slips away. Her one anchor, gone. Not even her best pleading tactics have worked. The muffled curses under her breath are vile, and she wishes Jimin would just make a move on her friend already. Maybe then, all of this would make sense.

Still, she merges with the others. It’s hard to find her place in there, especially with the insecurities plaguing her mind, as everyone splits off into their little duos and trios. Taehyung and Seokjin try to pull her into their usual, weird hypothetical debates, “Let’s say you have a penis. Would you still jack off if when you came your semen was just one big sperm, and afterward you'd have to fight it?”

Despite herself, she enjoys the distraction. Trekking is not so bad when you desperately need your brain to unplug. The trail is not too far from the campsite, circling it and making it ideal for them to wander without getting lost. The summer air is warm, and heavy with the sweet scent of wildflowers and the earthy aroma of sun-warmed pine needles.

With the path gradually climbing uphill, the initially dense forest begins to thin, and with it Eunbi’s thoughts follow, loosening with each step. She’s not sure if it’s the silly joy filling her when colourful butterflies flutter past, or the brief interaction she entertains with a small chipmunk darting across the way, but there’s something calming about the rhythm of it all. The green all around her takes over her spiralling mind.

Eventually, Dahye’s suggestion turns out to be a good one, and soon Eunbi finds herself covering most part of the walk with Namjoon by her side, who’s a walking encyclopedia on the local fauna. His easy conversation and gentle humour slowly start to chip away at the tension in her shoulders. He’s good company— listens well, comes up with just the right responses, and somehow makes her feel less like she’s tagging along and more like she belongs.

Time slips away when being this disconnected to the chaos of the city but so connected to this bubble of green and quiet. Sharing that with her friends doesn’t make her worry about the clock, though. She laughs loudly, and speaks comfortably. And just like that, she’s unaware of the first two hours that go by with walking and chatting, this last part ceasing gradually when the path becomes steeper and more rugged, their breaths getting heavier with each large step. But the effort is worth it when they reach the summit and are rewarded with a breathtaking view. Eunbi’s eyes light up at the sight, even more so when she spots the perfect rock to plop down on and gulp water from her flask.

Before she can, it takes a few other seconds for her eyes to cover the whole scene, and when they do she notices Jeongguk. He’s sitting next to Iseul, his clothes similar to the ones Eunbi is wearing, just colour inverted with a white oversized t-shirt and black gym shorts. He doesn’t seem to be aware of her presence, yet. He’s laughing at something on the girl’s phone. Eunbi silently scoffs.

The attention is brought on her and Namjoon the moment the latter greets his friend, who acts as if she doesn’t exist. Eunbi is not any less of an actor, pretending to be much more interested in the panorama rather than the conversation the two men are having.

While her companion takes some pictures of the scenery, Eunbi drinks as much water as needed to feel hydrated without needing to go to the bathroom in the next 10 seconds. The walk is still long, and the campsite still far. For that reason, and totally not because she can’t stand the sight of Jeongguk sitting next to the short haired girl giggling about one of their inside jokes, she announces, “I’m ready to go again.”

Namjoon looks a bit taken aback, “Already?”

”Yeah. Let’s go.”

”You sure you don’t wanna rest?” Eunbi only shakes her head, fixing the backpack on her shoulders. The taller boy chuckles, “And here I thought you hated trekking.”

Eunbi lets out a genuine laugh. It’s refreshing to hear, even if she can feel the interaction being followed attentively by a pair of curious eyes, and when she gives in and looks their way, they immediately focus on the trees behind her. Whatever.

Just as she starts walking to follow behind Namjoon, her foot trips on a rock and she stumbles. Her first instinct, accompanied by a loud squeal, is to grab Namjoon’s shoulders for support, and luckily the boy promptly catches her. From the corner of her eye, she swears she sees Jeongguk nearly leaping to his feet. His hand twitches before he forces it back to his lap.

”Are you okay?” Namjoon’s eyes are wide with concern, hands steady on her forearms as he checks her foot with his gaze for any sprain, “Wait, your shoe is untied.”

He swiftly drops on his knee and works on the laces of her shoes, delicately inspecting her ankle in the process. Eunbi looks down at him, and she feels her cheeks flare slightly, both because of the embarrassment and the action feeling a little too intimate. She diverts her eyes, and her gaze automatically lands on Jeongguk. His face is immediately wiped from what, for a split second, looked like fright. Worry. He’s back to indifference, looking behind his shoulders, and she figures she must have imagined it.

”Can you walk?” Namjoon’s voice pulls her back, his figure now standing tall in front of her. She nods, shaking off the overwhelment, and assures she’s okay. Namjoon doesn’t believe her until she’s forced to take a walking test, going back and forth for one minute before he’s fully convinced she hasn’t twisted her ankle or anything.

When they set off again, laughter bubbles up between them as Namjoon cheekily makes fun of her squeal and her clumsiness, and Eunbi lightly shoves him. She’s glad she’s going through this with him; it’s making them closer and she finds they have so much more in common than she initially thought.

For a moment, she regrets not even sitting down for a second to rest, her feet protesting in her old Converses, but she quickly realises the other alternative and prefers having her legs hurt over being in the presence of Jeongguk, surrounded by quiet, and nature, and all the possible existent reasons to be kind to each other. Which they’re not really planning on doing, right now.

Even more with Iseul there. Eunbi doesn’t know why, but something about the girl rubs her the wrong way. It’s not like they ever got a chance to bond, but it feels like Iseul hasn’t even tried. They don’t have anything against each other, but the way she’s sticking to Jeongguk’s side after yesterday’s fiasco brings Eunbi to not really contemplate the possibility of them getting closer either.

The trail descends into a different path of the forest, this one denser and cooler, providing the duo with a break from the midday heat. Their pace is slower, and the talking quiets down too in favour of soaking in the tranquillity that surrounds them. Eunbi feels herself recover from the previous slip and sighs, this time contentedly.

The peace doesn’t last for long. Behind her shoulders, her ears pick up hurried footsteps, the cracking of the leaves stronger under them, the unmistakable sound of someone catching up. Eunbi doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is, she can sense his presence like an itch she can’t scratch. Jeongguk reaches her, his voice almost touching her neck, “Can you move out of the way?”

There’s plenty of space. Hell, the path could fit five trucks. Her eyes close momentarily, searching for all the strength she needs to resist the provocation. She steps aside, set on not paying him too much mind. She doesn’t want to be affected by his tone. She’s decided to let him be, and think what he wants of her.

Jeongguk doesn’t seem too fond of the silence he’s met with, though. Was probably expecting her witty impulses to react. But she ignores him. He walks past her, but it looks like his initial aim at surpassing her goes forgotten. His steps are shorter, not covering big distances anymore and keeping him at an arm’s length from her, Iseul beside him oblivious to the tension.

He looks back after Eunbi thought he would limit himself to the snappy tone, but she was wrong, obviously, the glint in his eyes daring her to respond, “Wow, you’re really slow.”

Eunbi tries not to snap, she really tries. Thinks of brushing the comment with a simple dismissing chuckle, pretending it doesn’t make her hand twitch. Her tongue poke her inner cheek. But it’s like the minimal sight of him gets her burning with annoyance.

“Oh, sorry. I wasn’t aware this was a marathon. Good luck winning!” Is this enough of a bitch answer? She hopes so, the smile that accompanies it deathly sarcastic. She just doesn’t want to deal with Jeongguk after last night. Fears the resentment is still too alive for her to handle it better.

Of course, he doesn’t back down from a good childish banter, though, “You’re still slow.”

”Well, I’m trekking.”

”And you’re seriously wearing Converses to do that.” His eyes fall to her feet with a delighted scoff. He’s unbelievable.

”So sorry I couldn’t afford trekking shoes.” The concern is clearly faked, and she hopes she just imagined Jeongguk rolling his eyes subtly.

”That’s why you’re slow.” He has the audacity to raise his eyebrows and shrug at Eunbi’s speechless state, the argument resulting in the dumbest interaction she’s had in days, leaving her pissed nonetheless.

Jeongguk rewinds his fast paced walk, not really considering poor Iseul trying to keep up with him. Both her and Namjoon are left disoriented with the meaningless bickering they found themselves spectators of, but they wisely stay silent to prevent stirring the pot further.

Eunbi, however, doesn’t even notice the sudden quiet, the thoughts screaming in her brain making up for it. She feels completely blindsided. All those times she tried to make even the smallest kind of conversation with him, she was ignored. Her smiles, kind requests and efforts to maintain a friendly demeanour— completely fucking dismissed. And now, just when she’d decided the best thing she could do for both of them was to back off, to give them each the space they needed to avoid any further animosity, what does he do? He searches for it. Purposefully searches for it, as if he wants to provoke some kind of reaction out of her. She’s so fed up. What’s his deal? Why seek out conflict when they were finally starting to find some semblance of peace in their indifference? It’s infuriating. She can’t help the small growl of frustration that escapes her lips. God, what an asshole.

A small scoff from Namjoon pulls her out of her daze, and she glances his way, her face a picture of confusion and irritation. The boy shakes his head, a faint, amused smile playing on his lips, “He can be, sometimes.”

It’s only then that she realises she must have muttered her last thought out loud. She laughs softly at her slip, sheepishly brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “Sorry about that. We’re just… not exactly on good terms, right now.”

Namjoon is silent as her admission hangs in the air, unpressured. Instead, he just nods, his eyes reflecting a quiet empathy, inviting but not intrusive. He’s giving her the choice, whether she wishes to open up or carry that baggage on her own. It’s not like he’s oblivious to the tension between her and Jeongguk; the whole group would agree it has been evident ever since Eunbi joined. But neither she nor Jeongguk offered any explanations, so there was no choice but to adapt to the hostility. Dahye had only once hinted at the fact that they’d known each other for a long time, letting it slip casually, much to Eunbi’s silent dismay, but beyond that, no other details were ever shared.

Eunbi hesitates. She trusts Namjoon, the way she trusts the others, really— would vomit all her feelings on his t-shirt right now. But it wouldn’t feel right to give only her side of the story, knowing Jeongguk has lived in the dark about certain truths for years. He probably harbours his own complicated feelings, ones he’s kept close to his chest for a long time, feelings that would be overshadowed by her own if she spoke out of turn. She doesn’t think it’s her place to say what happened.

The silence stretches on, and Eunbi is more conflicted with each passing second. Her eyes drift to the figure of Jeongguk moving farther away, his silhouette becoming smaller with every step until he rounds a corner and disappears from view. With him goes the moment, the possibility of Namjoon ever knowing what happened, at least from her. He seems to accept this, doesn’t push her to speak, and she appreciates it when he shifts the conversation, making a light-hearted comment about the trees and their unusual shapes. She smiles.

The afternoon sun beats down on them, making the air thick and sticky. Time drags on, more hours roll by, the trail winding endlessly through the woods. They find spots to sit now and then, taking short breaks to catch their breath. But the further they trek, the more Eunbi grows frustrated. Her calves ache, muscles burning from the climb, and she has to stop every so often to rub at them, cursing under her breath. Namjoon forces himself to not laugh at that, instead keeping his usual calm and patient, assuring her with a grin that they’re almost there. Though she’s pretty sure he’s just saying that to keep her spirits up.

Eventually, their slow pace brings them closer to some of the others who had lagged behind. They all wear the same weary expressions, the exhaustion etched into their features. They try to relieve some of it by distracting themselves from the thought of their feet hurting, one of them starting a game of Guess the Song by humming the melody. It quickly dissolves into a mess of off-key notes and missed beats, their tired brains unable to keep up, and it’s not long before they’re all laughing. The kind of belly laughs that make your sides ache.

Eunbi finds herself genuinely enjoying the moment, forgetting all about asking to sit down every five minutes, even catching herself humming along. She discovers Taehyung has quite a talent for singing, and notices how blatantly obvious Aera’s crush on him is.

By the time they finally reach the campsite, Eunbi feels a wave of relief wash over her, so strong it nearly brings tears to her eyes. The sun has started its descent, casting a golden glow over the clearing, and the heat of the day is beginning to be replaced by a cool, refreshing breeze that lifts the hair from her sweaty neck. She falls into step beside Dahye, who has reappeared after what feels like hours spent with Jimin. They don’t need words; they walk side by side in silence, until the shorter one bumps her shoulder lightly against Dahye’s, a knowing smile on her lips.

“Shut up,” the taller one rolls her eyes at the unspoken tease, though the grin on her face suggests she’s anything but annoyed.

Eunbi’s hands are immediately up in the air, mocking innocence, ”Didn’t say a single word.”

”Sure, you didn’t.” Dahye retorts, but her tone is playful. “Anyways, the others want to hit the lake before dinner. You in?”

”I’ll pass. I need a nap. I’m dead tired from all this. When I catch Hoseok, I swear.” Eunbi’s voice is half-joking, half-serious, her narrowed eyes suggesting she may be even a bit too serious, and Dahye just laughs.

They part ways, Eunbi disappearing in her tent and relishing the thought of a few quiet moments to herself. As much as she loves the company, sometimes it drains her. Sometimes, she just needs a moment to breathe, be with her own self and nobody else. Especially given the amount of times her sanity has been tested during the first two days of this trip.

Sleep comes to her easily, pulling her under as soon as her head hits the small, makeshift pillow. The muffled sounds of her friends outside — splashes from the lake, bursts of laughter — soothe her into a deep, much-needed, dreamless rest.

When she stirs awake, the sun has already dipped below the horizon, and she can feel the noises from the group much closer now. The air is filled with the mouth-watering aroma of roasting meat and vegetables, and it’s said delicious smell that puts her five senses to operate again. Her stomach grumbling wakes her before Dahye can, the tent flaps open just as her friend was about to poke her head inside.

Eunbi blinks awake groggily, stumbling out bleary-eyed, and Dahye mercilessly laughs at her still half-asleep face, “You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

”Fuck you.”

The teasing is playful, and Eunbi cheekily grins as her friend giggles. She wraps a hoodie around her shoulders to ward off the growing chill and keep some of the warmth from the nap, then makes her way to the fire where the others are gathered. When they take in her sleep-dazed state, they don’t miss a beat and start poking fun at her, pulling her hood up over her head or sneakily tickling her sides until she’s laughing despite herself. The laughter feels good, like a release, and she finds herself slowly waking up, becoming more aware, more present.

A large campfire crackles in the centre of the group, its flames dancing in the cool evening air, Yoongi and Seokjin in charge of dinner. Someone’s turned on a portable speaker, and soft music drifts through the campsite, blending with the sounds of laughter and the sizzle of food. Eunbi sits back, letting the warmth of the fire seep into her skin, content to simply listen, to watch the way the firelight plays across everyone’s faces.

It’s almost too easy to relax into the peaceful rhythm of the evening, her still vulnerable brain unwinding the tension she wasn’t aware of from her shoulders. The heat of the fire, the hum of laughter, and the quiet murmur of conversation blend together, creating a cocoon of comfort she hadn’t realised she needed. It’s as she starts letting herself be taken over by that familiar, soothing calm — the same one she’d found in her tent — that a faint alarm goes off in her brain. Its tiny beep only grows louder until it’s impossible to ignore. Something’s off. Her contentment feels misplaced. Like she’s forgotten a crucial detail that’s only now creeping back into her awareness.

The realisation slams into her like a wave, jolting her fully awake, the moment her gaze lands on Jeongguk. Suddenly, everything snaps back into sharp focus. His face, illuminated by the flickering firelight, is a stark reminder of the reality she had temporarily escaped. The events of the past few days come rushing back. Right, quick recap: she’s on Jeongguk’s birthday trip. Jeongguk, who can’t stand the sight of her. Jeongguk, who had called her a bitch last night. How could she almost forget that minor detail?

So here she is, in the middle of the woods, surrounded by friends and food, but all she can focus on is Jeongguk. The one person here who probably wishes she wasn’t. No sense dwelling on it now, though. She’s there, there’s no going back. Her only aim is to make it through the night. Make it through the night without repeating yesterday, or making things even worse. For that to happen, she just has to ignore the object of her epiphany like she has been trying to ever since the stressful day started. She hopes he’ll be smart enough to do the same.

It seems like it when dinner goes by without any notable tension, which is a small miracle in itself. Jeongguk seems just as engrossed by the food as she is, its hot, comforting and delicious taste being a welcome distraction, especially with that distinct smoky flavour from being cooked over the open fire. Everyone is too busy devouring their meals to talk much, but their sparkling eyes speak with gratitude for their hyungs’ magic hands. Eunbi uses the unusual quiet to gaze up at the sky, the stars slowly coming out to dot its darkening blue.

Though, peace never lasts long with this group. Jimin breaks the silence as he cracks open a beer bottle with a grin that spells mischief, “Let’s play a game.”

Taehyung, already leaning back in his chair with a lazy smile, nods, chiming in, “Since we’ve got alcohol, how about Never Have I Ever?”

”Just don’t ask stupid questions because you want to get drunk,” Dahye warns, her eyes twinkling with amusement. Her comment earns a round of laughter, easing the tension that had settled during the quiet, their voices soon overtaking the crackling of the fire once again.

Jimin hands the beer bottles, making sure everyone has one as he sits back with a teasing glint in his gaze. He locks eyes with Dahye, challenging her, “Okay, I got the perfect one, then. Never have I ever… pooped.”

The absurdity of the statement catches the others off guard, and they all erupt in silly chuckles, taking a sip. Except for Dahye, who sits there with a perfectly straight face. Jimin raises an eyebrow, expectantly waiting for her to drink, but she just shrugs, “Girls don’t poop.”

The girls echo her sentiment with mock seriousness, filling the camp with sarcastic agreements and playful banter, while a debate kicks off between Dahye and Jimin about the biological impossibility of her assertion. It’s cut short when Iseul eagerly starts smacking Jeongguk’s thigh by her side, her excitement palpable and getting everyone’s attention in the process, “Ooh, I got one! Never have I ever stolen something.”

Most of the group drinks at that, Yoongi snorting blatantly, and Iseul frowns in disappointment, expecting a different outcome. Dahye chuckles, “Babe, everyone’s stolen at some point. That was too easy. It’s okay, let’s just keep going. Jeongguk, your turn.”

Next to Iseul, Jeongguk seems to think for a moment, then he grins, “Never have I ever… rode a motorcycle.” He gulps down a big sip from his bottle.

”Are you looking to get drunk tonight, Ggukie?” It’s his best friend teasing him with wiggling eyebrows, and the younger just shrugs with a lazy smirk.

Eunbi drinks too, at that. Now that she thinks of it, the first and only time she was on a bike, Jeongguk was taking her home and she was holding her arms tight around his torso, his helmet secured under her chin and his jacket wrapped around her body. That’s the last nice gesture she’s seen from him, and the thought stirs something complicated in her chest. She glances at him without meaning to, catching his eye for just a second before they both look away.

Hoseok is quick with another question, “Never have I ever gone skinny-dipping.”

Only Seokjin and Sora drink, and the group teases them with a long, exaggerated holler. The two love birds share a sheepish smile, their faces turning a soft shade of pink under the firelight.

”We should all do that right now.” It’s Taehyung proposing it, his tone half-serious, half-challenging.

Dahye pulls a face, “The thought alone is making me want to vomit.” She mutters, and the laughter that follows becomes the soundtrack of their night for what feels like hours, the game stretching on with each question getting weirder and more personal.

The beer flows freely, and Eunbi finds herself relaxing more than she expected, her body sinking comfortably into her chair. She laughs at Hoseok’s ridiculous question about eating bugs and groans at Jimin recalling the time he laughed so hard he pissed his pants as an adult, sipping on her bottle as the group continues to tease one another.

The loop restarts for the nth time, Iseul piping up again, “Never have I ever sneaked out.”

Surprisingly, only Namjoon, Jeongguk and Eunbi drink this time. The reaction is immediate, the group’s interest piqued, Dahye curiously turning to her friend, “When was that, Bibi?”

Eunbi doesn’t register the implications of her light giggle, nor the way her eyes soften as she gets caught up in the memory, “Back when I was in middle school.” Young and restless, desperate for the thrill. Besides her forever best friend.

Always a bit more noisy than he should be, Hoseok chimes in, “Were you with anyone?”

She chuckles, the answer coming to her lips almost instinctively, “Oh, I was with—“ Her gaze flickers to Jeongguk, and suddenly the smile drops from her face. Right. She always seems to forget where they stand now. It’s like the kid inside her is still desperately clinging to those moments, fighting to have him back, to drag him into her orbit.

Jeongguk lets out a small scoff, barely audible over the crackling fire, but she catches it. His expression is closed off, guarded. Eunbi clears her throat, “Huh, it doesn’t matter.”

The air grows thick with tension, the silence that follows almost deafening. Some of them understand the awkwardness, sensing the history that neither Eunbi nor Jeongguk ever fully explained. Others, like Hoseok, are a little clueless. He turns to the other boy, grinning like a cat who caught the canary, “Ooh, Ggukie, you drank too, right? Who was it with?”

Jeongguk shrugs, a dark, unamused smirk spreading across his lips. His eyes don’t leave Eunbi, his tone sarcastic but cold, “Apparently, it doesn’t matter.”

The affronted girl narrows her eyes, trying to mask the sting of his tone. The jab hits deeper than she’d like to admit, even more when they both know exactly why she said that. Why she had to say it. Unspeakable words are plastered on their wounded expressions, but she looks down at her hands before her heart betrays her, fighting its way up her throat to scream them all out.

It’s ironic how the questions that follow feel like one stab after the other, almost purposefully touching a raw nerve from the past, memories she’d rather not revisit now. Never have I ever used someone else’s toothbrush. Never have I ever climbed out a window. It’s small, silly moments that she knows — hopes — Jeongguk remembers too. And she can’t help but search for that sign of recognition in his face. Or anything, at this point. The slightest spark in his eyes. The imperceptible jolt of his hand. She wants to tell him. It matters. It matters. It matters.

But does it matter to him now? Did every single piece of the puzzle get lost in the storm? Did Jeongguk always feel so unreachable? Were his eyes always so devoid of light when he looked at her? She misses stargazing.

When the weight on her heart becomes too much to bear, the weariness from the day and the effects of the sleepless night tangling with the complicated emotions she’s feeling and translating into frustrated tears welling up in her eyes, she gets up muttering a half-hearted excuse about being tired and heads for her tent.

Inside, focusing on the fabric ceiling rather than both her heart and brain exceptionally teaming up only to scream at her to find a way to escape from all this (maybe steal Namjoon’s car keys, or swim her way back to the city), she wills her eyes to close and begs whatever god who might be listening to spare her from more misery. Just for tomorrow. Please.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The divinities Eunbi tried to reach with her desperate pleas must have been terribly busy last night, because tomorrow is here and it’s charged with even more tension and hostility than she thought they could ever harbour for one another.

Today’s activity is canoeing, and with the surprisingly adequate amount of sleep she managed to get, her first approach is even optimistic. She’s decided to start off with the positive mindset that things couldn’t possibly get any worse. Sat in the small two-person canoe, she’s determined to steer the day in a better direction, to navigate the rough waters of their fraught relationship. Even if a new wave of something worse than what already happened is aimed directly at her, she’d be able to handle it.

Only thing she didn’t exactly consider was the counterpart of the clash possibly not sharing the same intentions as hers. Which is exactly what is happening, Jeongguk never backing down from stirring the pot further only to obtain a rank, grisly soup made with pettiness and resentment, spoon-feeding it to her with every chance he gets. Though she can still say she’s tasted worse from him, the bitterness lingers, coating her tongue like bile.

The setting for their little showdown is picturesque, almost mockingly so. The river glimmers under the afternoon sun, its surface reflecting a golden hue that dances across the water, and the hills in the distance are bathed in a soft, amber glow. Nature itself is trying to soothe the tension, yet it only seems to amplify the dissonance. The universe must be testing her. Can you handle this one, Bee?

The group naturally splits off into pairs, reflecting yesterday’s layout, with Eunbi and Namjoon finding themselves navigating together, just as Dahye is with Jimin, and Jeongguk with Iseul. It starts off peacefully enough. They glide slowly along the river, their paddles dipping gently into the water, the only sound the quiet murmurs of conversation and the occasional splash.

Eunbi allows herself to relax. She chuckles at Namjoon’s poor attempts at taking aesthetically pleasing pictures of her, then shows him how it’s done when she points the camera at him, sealing the moment with a lovely shot of her friend enveloped in an ochre light, his dimples sheepishly showing. She grazes the cold water with her finger, getting lost in the simple way it dances with her movements. She closes her eyes and tilts her face up to the sun, letting its warmth seep into her skin.

Though she should have anticipated the serenity being almost surreal, and should have considered herself deranged to even think it could continue like that. She’s pulled out of her moment when the water beside her canoe suddenly churns with agitation.

What she sees on her right is a sight that throws all the optimism and positivity from this morning right in the bin, and replaces it with the effects of Jeongguk’s wicked soup. Said chef shoots past her at an unnecessary, almost reckless speed for what’s supposed to be a leisurely excursion among friends. His canoe slices through the water with aggressive precision, sending ripples crashing against Eunbi’s boat. See, she would keep her composure in any other situation; would continue straight on her path of ignoring him, no matter how unsuccessful the previous attempts had been. She’s afraid she’ll keep failing, though.

And it’s really just because when she sees how he’s paddling with a furious intensity, his muscles straining with effort while Iseul is squealing and screaming in front of him, her hands gripping the sides of the boat as she begs him to slow down, it’s clear Jeongguk is doing it on purpose. Acting out another one of his plans to get a reaction out of her, not caring how down things could go at that point. Why should she, then? It’s when his eyes lock onto hers as he passes, daring to push all her buttons, that she finds her answer.

Eunbi’s blood boils. She’s speechless with the immaturity, but best believe she’s coming on ten times stronger with it. She just can’t wrap her mind around the fact that it seems the more she tries to interact with him, the more she gets pushed away; but the more she keeps her distance, the more he seeks for her reaction. What is he trying to prove? What is he aiming to get out of her? Eunbi doesn’t exactly have time to entertain the moral, rational part of her brain and puzzle over his motives, her own childishness busying her with gripping the paddles tight, her knuckles turning white as she channels all her frustration into rowing. She puts all the strength she can muster to try and catch up to Jeongguk without popping a vein. Namjoon notices the sudden shift in pace, even if minimal with Eunbi’s laughable efforts at moving faster, nonetheless startled by the abrupt burst of energy.

”Bi, what are you—“

”Joon, help me overtake Gguk.” It’s said through gritted teeth and narrowed eyes, fixated only on the target ahead. Namjoon is disoriented. Does she even realise the use of the nickname? It doesn’t look like that as she keeps going undeterred, even with her companion initially not collaborating, too confused to settle on what to do. Eventually, he sighs and grips his own paddle, deciding to help his friend in whatever battle she’s waging. He glances back to see just how far Jeongguk has gotten and shakes his head.

”You two are literal kids, you do know that?” Namjoon mutters, his comment going ignored.

Jeongguk, meanwhile, senses them closing in. A competitive glint flashes in his eyes. He doubles down, paddling harder, sending more water splashing in every direction. Eunbi isn't far behind, and for a moment it feels like they’re the only two on the river, locked in this ridiculous race. They’re both too stubborn to back down, too caught up in their own challenge to notice how idiotic they look.

Namjoon sighs again, raising his voice over the chaos, “Guys, seriously, this is getting out of hand.”

Iseul echoes his concern, a nervous edge to her voice, “Yeah, Joon’s right. Please, Ggukkie? We’re getting too far away from the others. It’s going to be a nightmare rowing back!”

Her whines go unnoticed by Jeongguk, who keeps his gaze straight on Eunbi as she has managed to catch up and is now beside him, mirroring that same flame in her orbs. He distractly acknowledges the two innocent spectators, “I just wanted to go and see… that thing over there.” He calls back, voice strained as he keeps his eyes locked on his rival. He doesn’t even know what he’s pointing at— there’s nothing but more water and distant trees.

”Oh, that… thing,” Eunbi adds, equally unconvincing. They exchange a glance, both wearing narrowed eyes and gritted teeth, determined not to be the first to admit defeat.

Their canoes race neck and neck, the water splashing around them as if reflecting the tension in the air. It’s a childish competition, one that speaks to their unresolved feelings, both wanting to interact, to be noticed by the other, but neither willing to show it’s because they care.

And mostly, it’s messy. Definitely not what two people should be attempting to do on their first time canoeing. On one side, their inexperience comes handy as it doesn’t completely isolate them from the starting point, but it still shouldn’t be happening. And it becomes more and more frantic as shown by their drawn faces and clumsy movements. A disaster of any kind should have been predicted at any second from that only.

It happens when Jeongguk leans too far over the edge, his canoe wobbling dangerously. Iseul lets out a high-pitched scream, gripping the sides of the boat. Eunbi’s heart leaps into her throat, all thoughts of their petty race forgotten in an instant.

“Gguk, careful!” She shouts, her voice thick with concern. Without thinking, she reaches out with her paddle, trying to steady his canoe from a distance. For a moment, everything else falls away— the tension, the bickering, the hurt. All she sees is him, about to fall, and her instinct to protect him kicks in.

Jeongguk manages to regain his balance just in time, his canoe righting itself with a lurch. Everything pauses. He lets out a breath of relief, a small, surprised chuckle escaping his lips. Eunbi exhales too, a soft, almost involuntary smile forming on her face. It lasts a second, but it feels like more when they share a look different from all the others. Relief. I’m glad you’re safe. Recognition. Thank you. Stillness.

But then reality snaps back into place. They both realise what they’re doing, and their expressions harden almost simultaneously. Eunbi quickly looks away, her face flushing with embarrassment. Jeongguk mutters, self-reproaching, “God, this is so stupid.”

The brief moment of softness vanishes the instant Eunbi catches his words, and she snaps, her voice rising childishly with indignation, “You started this!”

Jeongguk scoffs, “Me? You’re the one who wanted to overtake me!”

“You were the one paddling like a maniac!”

“I literally almost fell in the water because of you.”

Eunbi’s eyes get unbelievably wider with disbelief, a sarcastic laugh escaping her, “Oh, that was not because of me. That’s because you are incompetent.”

“Don’t throw big words at me now.”

“Sorry, I’ll lower my vocabulary down for you to understand.”

The childish bickering stretches on for astonishingly long minutes, the volume of their voices rising over the gentle sounds of the river. Namjoon, who had been rowing quietly, finally has enough. With a frustrated sigh, he takes the paddles and makes it his own solo mission to row back toward the others by himself, muttering under his breath, “I can’t believe I have to do this.”

His comment is mostly drowned out by the relentless sparring between Eunbi and Jeongguk, who are too engrossed in their argument to notice that Namjoon is now paddling alone, their strained voices echoing across the water. Jeongguk even goes as far as to row his canoe back behind his hyung’s just so he can have the last word in. It’s ridiculous, really— a silly argument born from a place neither of them is willing to acknowledge.

“Wow, that’s real mature of you, Eunbi. What’s next, you gonna stick your tongue out at me?”

She bristles, her cheeks flushing with the effort the rage is taking out of her, “I might as well if you keep acting like a dick!”

Jeongguk sneers, “Oh, please. I’m not the one who started this whole stupid race.”

Eunbi is aware the more she keeps it going, the more she’ll fall right into his trap but she fears she’s already too deep to back down now, “You were showing off!”

“And you were just so jealous you couldn’t stand it.”

“Enough! Both of you!” It’s Namjoon who finally snaps, his voice cutting through the chaos like a whip. He gives the oars a decisive pull, the canoe cutting through the water with renewed force. His voice is stern, and much different from the calm tone Eunbi has grown accustomed to, his patience had clearly worn thin, “I can’t believe I’m stuck in the middle of this… whatever this is. My ears are bleeding. If you two want to sort out whatever childish feud you’re having, do it on dry land. And away from me.”

The sudden authority in the older guy’s voice silences them both, and the quiet that falls upon them is as much a blessing as deafening. There’s a beat of awkward tension as they both realise how ridiculous they must look. Two grown adults behaving like squabbling children and shut down by their yelling, frustrated father. The reality of the situation finally starts to sink in. They’re too far from the rest of the group, their petty race having pulled them far off, all because of their stubbornness and bruised egos.

What follows is what should have surrounded them right from the beginning, stillness only interrupted by the flushing of the water as it gets caressed by their paddles rowing back to their initial position. Eunbi’s face burns with embarrassment, and with the realisation of how low she’s stooped. The urge to apologise to Namjoon itches at the back of her throat, but pride prevents her from doing it in front of Jeongguk.

No one dares add a word, not even a breath too loud, the tension lingering but now tinged with a sense of shame. Other than the rhythmic splash of their oars and the distant laughter of their friends, the only sound that can be occasionally heard is Namjoon’s bewildered scoffs and muttered comments. The other two know better than to cut the thin thread they’re all clutching onto.

But the chop comes, and it’s Iseul’s voice breaking the silence, soft and tentative, “You know, we’re all here to have fun. Can we just… try to get along for a little while?”

Eunbi has to bite her tongue. Otherwise, she fears any words that might leave her lips could permanently push Iseul away from the already slim possibility of them becoming friends. She keeps her eyes closed, a long exhale escaping her lips, irritation flaring up at the simplicity of the comment. As if it hadn’t already crossed her mind that they should be getting along. What a genius idea, truly.

Jeongguk seems to notice the tense silence that follows, especially the tightness in Eunbi’s expression and how Iseul’s well-meaning comment has only added fuel to the fire. He turns to his companion and offers her a reassuring smile, even if it feels a bit forced, “It’s okay, Isu. Let’s just head back.” His tone is gentle, trying to ease the awkward atmosphere, the nod that accompanies it recognising her effort, as well as its effective uselessness.

Taking in Jeongguk’s unnecessary, oversweet tone towards the other girl involuntarily causes Eunbi to scoff audibly, the sound loud and deliberate, followed by nothing. She keeps her gaze fixed on the water, refusing to look at either of them. But she feels Jeongguk’s narrowed eyes on her, “What now?”

”Nothing,” Eunbi mutters, the sarcasm in her tone cutting through the air. “Just love how you can turn on the charm when it suits you.”

Jeongguk’s jaw tightens for what feels like the nth time, fearing a possible cramp soon affecting the muscles of his mouth, but he keeps his response measured, “I’m just trying to not make this worse.”

A fake coo follows, Eunbi’s voice mockingly replicating his sudden calmness, “Oh, how nice of you, Ggukkie.”

“For the love of God, will you two drop it? Please?” Namjoon’s frustrated groan interrupts once again the bickering from stretching on, his patience truly at its limit. He increases the pace of his rowing, as if trying to physically distance himself from the scene.

The uncomfortable silence lingers for the rest of the paddling back, and it stretches on endlessly, mirroring the distance they’ve travelled in their pointless, self-inflicted race. If it isn’t the consequences of their own stupid actions. Eunbi dips her paddle in the water with more intention, fixating on the ripples spread out from each stroke, refusing to meet Namjoon’s annoyed gaze. She’s ashamed of the way she’s let her emotions and bottled up feelings rule a situation that could have been easily avoided, though she stubbornly refuses to fully acknowledge it, let alone admit that she might be in the wrong.

Still, Eunbi uses the time it gets to reach the shore to work on her breathing, counting every pause between her exhales, willing to free her mind from the chaotic flow of thoughts before she regrets letting them cling to her like a shadow and cause a bigger scene. The sight of the land approaching should bring some relief, but instead it only amplifies the sense of urgency gnawing at her. The moment the canoe nudges against the land, the sun beginning its descent, bathing the landscape in a warm light, Eunbi wastes no time making herself aware of her surroundings, as she’s already on her feet, moving with a speed that betrays her desperation to escape the tension that’s been suffocating her.

She’s unsteady as she steps out, the ground feeling oddly solid beneath her after the wobbly rhythm of the canoe. Namjoon notices her haste and instinctively reaches out to steady her, but she’s stepping away, her shoes sinking into the damp shore.

”I’m going back to the campsite,” Eunbi says, her voice clipped, the words barely more than a whisper after the raw shouting followed by complete muteness.

Namjoon, still seated, frowns as he looks up at her. Concern clouds his features, and he’s quick to offer, “Wait for me, I’ll take you back.”

Eunbi shakes her head, her refusal as gentle as it is resolute. A tight-lipped smile plays on her lips, though it doesn’t reach her eyes, “You should stay and enjoy the rest of the day.”

There’s a sheepish, unspoken apology written in her eyes, a fleeting look of regret that she’s too proud to voice. She unconsciously scrunches her nose, a telltale sign of her lingering embarrassment, and doesn’t even register Namjoon’s nod as she turns to start walking, eager to put distance between herself and the situation, but mostly from Jeongguk’s attentive eyes still throwing jabs her way.

As she walks back to the tents, Eunbi’s mind is already racing ahead to dinner. It’s been her biggest concern for a while now, a sinking feeling settling in her stomach, an instinctive dread that tonight will go as badly as she fears. Dinner always seems to bring out the worst in them, the frustration of the day simmering just below the surface until it boils over and erupts in sharp words and bitter exchanges. She can feel that exact feeling brewing dangerously in her stomach, but she knows she’d rather suppress it than have it consume her completely only for more pieces of her heart to break.

Dropping onto one of the deck chairs around the campsite, she waits for it to dissipate with her knees up to her chest. It’s hard at first, the sudden quiet too loud and overwhelming her with the pent up exasperation from today. It only fuels that part of her that still hasn’t moved on from the very first night, the one that set the tone for everything that followed, who harbours anger and spite for what Jeongguk had spat in her face with apparently no remorse. She wants to get back at him, to make him regret those words, to hurt him as much as he’s hurt her. But the bigger, remaining part of her knows she’s already done enough of that.

Would it even be worthy? What would she gain from it? Would getting back at Jeongguk truly bring her any peace, or would it only deepen the rift between them? She knows the answer, but it’s a bitter pill to swallow. Normally, she wouldn’t let any other person get away so easily with such a comment, but with Jeongguk, she’s aware he has lived with worse feelings for years, and that probably isn’t even the worst of what his heart holds. She’s not ready to wake that monster. Doesn’t know if she’s prepared to confront the truth behind the look he gives her. Doesn’t want to know if that truth is dictated by resentment, or if it’s all that’s left of her in Jeongguk’s view. Because if she’s honest with herself, no matter how angry she is, she can’t deny that she understands why he feels this way. And that understanding, more than anything, is what terrifies her the most.

Hours slip by in a blur, Eunbi stilling on her chair and giving space for her thoughts to unleash before it’s too late to put a collar back on again. The sun continues its descent, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, and when it dips down the horizon, the campfire that has been just a pile of logs earlier is now crackling with life, its warmth spreading through the group as they gather for dinner. The smell of grilled food wafts through the air, mingling with the earthy scent of the forest and the cool breeze.

It’s a comforting atmosphere, one that’s filled with laughter and easy conversation, but Eunbi is yet to be shaken out her trance to realise none of what she fears is reflecting in the reality surrounding her. Only when Dahye finds a spot on the seat next to hers and launches into a breathless retelling of apparently the craziest experience she’s had so far during the trip earlier at the river, Eunbi reconnects with the present, and disconnects from the almost maniac way she’s been analysing her thoughts alone all evening.

As she follows Dahye’s lips moving, acknowledging her with small nods and chuckles that the storytelling gets out of her, she finds she’s been making one huge mistake all this while. She’s always been so wrapped up in her own fears, her need to control the narrative and anticipate the next emotional blow, that she’s missed the simple reality of what’s unfolding around her. The night easily moves forward without the weight of her expectations pressing down on it.

Maybe she doesn’t have to anticipate every move, every subtle shift in the atmosphere. Maybe she doesn’t have to keep trying to predict what Jeongguk might say or how the night might fall apart. For the first time, she lets herself be present— really present. She lets herself feel the warmth of the fire, hear the laughter of her friends without reading too much into it, lets herself stop preparing for a storm that isn’t coming.

There’s a quiet revelation in that. Tonight, she doesn’t want to brace herself for another argument or another disappointment. She can simply allow the peace of the moment to wash over her, instead of waiting for the worse. And by the time the stars are twinkling overhead and her tummy is full, she allows herself to let go of the anger and just be.

It’s when they start another one of their games that she fully lets her guard down and doesn’t focus on anything in particular, just how genuine her laughs resound in her own ears. Once again, it’s Jimin suggesting it, eyes twinkling, “How about a story-telling challenge? We each say one line and keep the story going around the circle.”

Eunbi chuckles and nods, feeling a flicker of excitement at the idea. It’s been a while since she’s done something as silly and spontaneous. They all shuffle closer, forming a tight circle around the fire, the flickering flames dancing in their eyes. Taehyung starts them off, his voice solemn as he leans in, “Once upon a time, in a forest much like this one, there was a squirrel who could sing opera.”

It’s impossible to keep straight faces at first, but they all try. The mock-seriousness in Taehyung’s tone only makes it funnier, and the story takes off from there, spiralling into absurdity. Hoseok follows up, voice filled with faux sorrow, “And this squirrel, right? He had a tragic backstory. He lost his most precious acorn in a dramatic flood.”

The more the tale escalates, the more their giggles can’t be stopped, with the squirrel also being a secret agent for a woodland spy network side by side with his best friend, a tap-dancing raccoon who dreamed of opening a dance studio in the big city. Seokjin adds that the talented animal was also training to perform in a world-renowned animal talent show, but was being sabotaged by a jealous porcupine who could juggle flaming pinecones.

Yoongi, usually the voice of reason, surprisingly leans into the layers of idiocy rather than trying to steer it back to some semblance of order, “The porcupine is actually being helped by an evil ninja rabbit who only speaks in riddles.” His voice carries a playful tone, and Eunbi can’t help but reflect his same look on her own face— unforced, genuine.

The fire crackles louder in response, almost as if laughing along with them and cheering them on. By the time the story comes back around to Jimin, he leans in with a grin caught up in the fun, “And then! The raccoon finally achieves his dream of opening a dance school in the city where all the animals can learn tap-dancing and perform in the biggest talent show ever.”

There’s a beat of silence before they all burst out laughing again, though this time it’s mixed with good-natured teasing. Namjoon chuckles and shakes his head, “Okay, now you’re just projecting.“

Hoseok, grinning from ear to ear, chimes in, “Yeah, come on, you’re turning this into your own personal dream story.”

Taehyung, never missing a beat, adds, “Next thing you know, you’ll have the raccoon choreographing the whole animal kingdom.”

The teasing banter continues, the group’s laughter bouncing off the trees. But Eunbi, still a little out of sync with their inside jokes, blinks in confusion, “Wait, what? What do you mean, reflecting yourself?”

The laughter fades, and Jimin turns to her, a bit of a sheepish grin on his face, “Oh, it’s just… I’ve always loved dancing. It’s been a silly dream of mine to— you know, maybe open a dance studio when I’m older.”

Eunbi’s eyes widen, genuine surprise lighting her features, “Wow, I had no idea. That’s so cool, Jimin! Seriously, I didn’t know that about you.”

There’s a brief, awkward pause, in which Jimin’s smile softens at her reaction, but before he can say anything more, Jeongguk scoffs audibly. The sound cuts through the moment like a sharp blade. He’s leaning back, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes narrowing at Eunbi with something between disdain and frustration but his tone unbothered, “That’s basic Jimin knowledge. Everyone knows that.”

Once again, Eunbi couldn’t have anticipated Jeongguk being on a completely different agenda. She should have known, she’s aware of that. But she hadn’t wanted to. She only wanted to go by the foolish belief that tonight would be different. That just for one evening they could coexist in the same space, be civil, even share a laugh.

It was a naive hope. And now, standing crosshairs of Jeongguk’s fiery glaze, not only with the glow of the flames, she realises just how mistaken she’s been. How stupid it was of her to think Jeongguk wouldn’t jump at the possibility of adding fuel to the fire. Because, right now, she finds herself utterly unprepared to read his clenched jaw, contrasting with the careless, almost indifferent posture he tries to maintain. She struggles to predict how it might develop if she uses a slightly different tone, or takes more time to respond.

She doesn’t remember moving around Jeongguk ever being this difficult. The physical closeness forced upon them by this trip only makes the emotional distance between them more glaring. They might be sitting around the same campfire, but it’s clear from the way he bristles at her every word, every gesture, that in Jeongguk’s mind, she’s universes away. And it’s exactly where he wants her to stay. No spaceship will bring her back. There’s nowhere she can land on his planet.

Eunbi’s exhaustion reaches its breaking point. She’s tired of pretending she’s okay with this. Fed up with letting remorse gnaw at her insides and reduce her to a punching bag for his barely-contained rage. Willing to take every fist thrown her way, rendering her vulnerable to his every attempt at breaking her down. Though what she feels is not resentment. It’s pure, bone-deep weariness. She doesn’t want to take this tug of war any further. If letting go of the idea of fixing things between them is what he wants, she’ll give him that.

With a sigh, she lowers her gaze to her hands for a moment, her fingers twitching unconsciously. Time and time again, she’s the reason why the group can’t go a few hours without being drawn into their venomous war.

Her eyes glisten with shame and helplessness as she looks back up, her voice reflecting anything but that weakness, its sharp and snappy tone overtaking the crackling fire, “What is your problem?”

Differently from the silence that stretched on after the unnecessary jab caught her by surprise, each second going by the ticks of a bomb ready to explode and wipe out the frivolity of the night, Jeongguk doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t even give her the courtesy of pretending to think it over. His response comes swiftly, harshly, as if he’s been waiting for the question all night, “My problem? My problem is that you’re here.”

Eunbi can’t help but scoff. It’s not meant to be arrogant, nor mocking. It’s almost an instinctive reaction, a defence mechanism against the disbelief that rises in her throat. Her words drip with sarcasm, though her voice remains calm, “Oh, I’m sorry I wanted to do something nice for you with the others.”

Jeongguk’s gaze is steady, unwavering, and his next words land like a punch to the gut, “Well, you shouldn’t have. You shouldn’t be here.”

Though she can say she’s gotten better at enduring, it still stings. None of that shows on her face, unflinching, neutral. A biting smile tugs at her lips, though it doesn’t reach her eyes, “Trust me, I know.”

There’s a pause— one brief, agonising moment where she thinks maybe, just maybe, this is still part of their aimless bickering that has been going on the past two days, a spat that will blow over.

But then Jeongguk speaks again, and his voice is so distant it’s even hard to hear him clearly, “I hope you do. You don’t belong here.”

Silence stretches on, the fire crackling softly the only sound between them. She’s sure everyone has stopped breathing, their exhales stuck up in their throat, afraid of releasing them, of stepping foot into something that doesn’t concern them.

Jeongguk’s eyes never leave hers, the coldness in them piercing through the thin veil of pretence they’ve both been clinging to. He doesn’t stop there, his voice deathly quiet, “Not with me. Not with the others. Can’t you see that?”

Eunbi’s heart lurches. She thinks she would prefer being called every name in the book. Have Jeongguk spit at her for all the pain she put him through. Say anything he wants about her being an awful person. But he knows just how to twist the knife. Still knows how to read her every faltering step, the doubts behind her eyes, the insecurities plaguing her mind. Surely, he also still knows how to be the one feeding her the desperate acceptance she needs, the assurance that none of her fears are true. So many times Jeongguk was there to swear she’s loved; that she wouldn’t be left alone ever again.

But now, he decides to use all that knowledge to spin it against her, to push all the right buttons that he knows will hurt her most. She doesn’t belong here. It’s what her mind has whispered to her over and over again since she stepped foot in his sacred circle, an outsider next to Dahye. She has been good at ignoring those hushed tones, to convince herself they’re lies. That these people are her friends, and they all see her as part of the group. That her fears were unfounded.

The proof her haunting thoughts have been right all along is in front of her though, and it presses down on her chest. It’s too much— too raw, too real. She should have seen it coming, but she’s still speechless. Her throat tight, her eyes burning with unshed tears. Though she refuses to let them fall for eleven pairs of eyes to watch. For his eyes to glow with satisfaction.

Eunbi manages to laugh bitterly, though the sound is hollow, “Right. Well, thanks for making it clear.” With her hands trembling slightly, hiding it by clenching them into fists at her sides, she pushes herself to her feet, “I’ll go now. Enjoy your night. Asshole.”

Her voice wavering on the last word, Eunbi turns and walks away from the fire, the warmth of it barely touching her anymore. She doesn’t let herself falter as she heads toward her tent, her footsteps hurried, the chill of the night settling in around her.

And as she shields herself from the outside world, its sounds accompanied by the group’s muttered voices escalating with agitation, words she won’t try to register, she doesn’t bother giving herself a headache trying to hold the tears in. This time, she lets them spill over freely, each one carrying the weight of every single one of her fears. She keeps the sobs in her chest, whimpering with the signals of panic taking over. And now more than ever, she really wishes she just wasn’t here.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

When it comes to this time of the year, Jeongguk inevitably becomes the worst version of himself. It’s a cruel irony that it all resurfaces right as his birthday approaches. It’s been that way for years now. In the beginning, when he was still in Busan, he found it hard to blow the candles on his cake without his shoulders feeling heavy, his eyes involuntarily searching for someone that was no longer there; with the unanswered questions dulling the sounds around, leaving him desensitised to the love so blatantly in front of him.

It took him a while to accept it, even with a missing spot unfilled. Jeongguk has never been good with changes. Has always lived by an unwavering, straight path on which he walked confidently, jumping over the cracks on the ground and ignoring any turns. The only deviation he allowed was the one that led him to Seoul. It was a long wait before the stoplight turned green, his own doubts plaguing him even with his parents’ encouragement; and when it did, he crossed the road alone reluctantly, glancing back more than once.

Jeongguk found that this lane was a little less preserved and far less predictable than the one he took his very first steps on. It was full of bumps, a lot of them causing him to trip and fall face first into the concrete. So many dead ends that forced him to make a choice, left or right. But on those same streets, he also recognised elements from the previous block: his love for filmography, the very reason he came to the capital; his mom’s goodnight tune, even over the phone; his thick Busan accent, instantly mirrored into Jimin’s own; the creeping dread as his birthday approached.

There are things he never fully got over, and every year, when August rushes to an end and September looms, he becomes highly aware of it. But over time, he’s learned to live with it. The questions that once consumed him have no answers, and he came to terms with the fact that he couldn’t help what happened. What he’s always had control over, however, was the small key to an even smaller room in his brain, where with great effort he locked Eunbi away once he turned 17.

She tried to break free multiple times, banging on the door and begging to be let out. Jeongguk even had to get maintenance on the lock. Eventually she quieted down, and only ever stirred whenever she knew September was coming from the little calendar she had hung up in the cramped space.

Jeongguk learned to handle it. The memories were still alive, but they didn’t hurt him the way they used to. They felt distant, resurfacing only when he himself noticed the final days of August being crossed on his own calendar. Using a red marker to draw those lines, his fingers still tingled with something close to familiar uneasiness. Sometimes, if it managed to spread to his whole body, it would overtake him, and in the days leading up to his birthday he’d snap more easily, feel more irritated.

But he’d gotten better at controlling it. Last year, his first time turning a year older in a place that wasn’t Busan, he didn’t even feel it. It might have been all the new, shiny people surrounding him in the small flat he was renting with Jimin, the fresh adrenaline from making sure he was feeding his friends with a fun time clouding every other thought. Back in that room, Eunbi peacefully slept through the entirety of it. Even forgot to wish him a happy birthday.

With the real Eunbi physically standing in front of him, all of Jeongguk’s efforts to keep her locked away shattered in one, insignificant instant. It only took a snap of the little-version-of-her in his brain for every wall he’d meticulously built to come crashing down. The door he had so carefully sealed off was now flung open, and little Eunbi burst through, running wild, mingling with thoughts she had no business messing with and wreaking havoc on all those parts of his mind that had been closed off, at least until that moment.

Behind her, an unstoppable flood of emotions he’d long buried surged in, filling his mind until it couldn’t hold any more. It spread to his chest, his heart straining under the weight of everything he didn’t want to feel. Little Eunbi, with her hair still short, worn bermudas, and a t-shirt stained with yellow paint, revelled in the chaos she was causing. She jumped and skipped back and forth between his brain and his heart, completely at ease, her presence so familiar yet entirely out of place. She seemed to enjoy every second of it.

And Jeongguk grew more and more unnerved by that. Little Eunbi was different from the Eunbi that avoided his gaze and awkwardly bowed. The latter had her hair longer, with short bangs softly brushing over her brows, her hands neatly manicured and her clothes spotless. She stood there, straight and put-together, a polished version of the girl who once got dirt all over herself and laughed too loud.

But what probably made him madder was that the more Eunbi started to find her place within the group, the more that seemingly dead part of her began to re-emerge, inching its way back into his life. It was like watching a ghost regain its form, piece by piece. The Eunbi he thought he had locked away was starting to blur with the present Eunbi, and every time she laughed it reminded him of how easy things had once been between them, back when her presence hadn’t been a thorn in his side but a constant comfort. Now, that sound twisted something deep in his chest, something he had long buried under layers of hurt and distance.

What frustrated him even more was that Eunbi seemed completely oblivious to it all. The way she eased into the group, gaining their acceptance, was infuriating. It was as if the distance between them meant nothing to her, as if she could waltz back into his life without consequence. The more they welcomed her, the more that old familiarity surfaced. She was becoming Eunbi again— the Eunbi who had once mattered. And that thought made his stomach churn.

It twisted even further when he found himself unconsciously reading into her every move. His knowledge of her, the way she used to be, crept into his mind without his consent, and he began to analyse her behaviour, picking apart her words and actions. It was almost instinctive, the way he could still understand her, still anticipate her moods. It only ended up poisoning him, because he soon realised those smiles — those little moments of reconnection to the past — were never directed at him. He could recognise her in the eyes of his friends, but never in his own.

Did she even care about what had happened between them? Did she think she could simply move on like none of it had affected him? Did she ever realise how deep those cracks still ran, or was he the only one haunted by the weight of their past?

At first, he forced the frustration to only translate into indifference. Bitter coldness. Not paying her presence too much mind, but still making sure she could feel his resentment dangerously tipping over the edge, and threatening to trip at any minute.

But the combination of his birthday approaching and Eunbi wandering around his space as if nothing ever happened caused the explosion. The rancorous version of himself, the one he thought he managed to successfully bury, now fought its way to the surface and dragged him back to square one: a freshly 16 years old Jeongguk with a freshly broken trust.

The intensity of those emotions hit him like a tidal wave, the kind that leaves you breathless, unable to distinguish between up and down. It wasn’t just anger. It was cold betrayal, and the sight of her, standing there so effortlessly among his friends on his birthday trip, made his skin prickle with irritation. Eunbi had slid into their plans with such ease, as if she belonged, and it was ironic considering she hadn’t even wanted to be in the same car as him.

Jeongguk only needed that last, littlest drop to fall, and with it, every ounce of restraint he had left evaporated. The thin thread of control he’d been clinging to snapped. He had thought he’d moved on, convinced himself that enough time had passed for him to handle her presence with maturity.

But he was wrong. Time hadn’t healed him like he’d hoped. Instead, it had just let the bitterness fester until now. He couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t hold himself back. The more he watched her fit in so naturally, laughing at someone’s joke or sharing a quiet moment by the fire, the more the frustration swelled in his chest. It was infuriating that she could act so unfazed, go up to him with a smile he has always recognised too well as if nothing ever was.

He didn’t even realise how tight the grip on his own emotions had been, until they were flooding out of him all at once. Jeongguk felt the words rising in his throat before he could stop them, the resentment spilling over like poison. And now he can feel the control slipping, the pain rushing to the surface like a dam had burst inside him. It’s almost addicting, even when his mind screams at him to stop, to take a breath. But his heart, the part of him still broken from all that time ago, drives him forward.

He needs her to feel it, needs it to be reflected in her eyes. This is what he’d been holding back for so long. This is the pain she’d left him with, and now he’s finally giving it back to her, forcing her to carry some of the weight. He isn’t the only one hurting anymore.

Each word that leaves his mouth is laced with venom, and he watches, wavering between satisfaction and regret, as they hit their target. Her eyes always widen slightly, the smallest flinch in her expression betraying her shock. For a second, he thinks he sees the cracks forming—tiny fissures in that calm, polished exterior she’d put on.

But the more he watches her crumble, the more he feels the bitter taste of victory sour in his mouth. There’s a part of him that hates what he’s doing. Hates that he has become the kind of person who lashes out like this, who takes pleasure in someone else’s pain. Especially hers. It’s like he’s caught in this vicious cycle of wanting to keep his distance but also wanting her attention. And the only way to get that is by hurting her before he himself can process his own hurt through different lenses.

Jeongguk knows he’s being unfair, but something in him can’t let it go. He‘s still simmering with unresolved anger, but there’s also a gnawing guilt, a nagging voice in his head telling him he’s pushing her too far, too hard. Last night, her eyes glossy with tears, he felt the pang that usually followed unleashing his poisonous words hit harder in his chest. He had picked his script with purpose, knowing exactly where to aim, only to shoot hard and leave her lifeless. She fought through the end to get her breaths out, until she couldn’t. Jeongguk waited for the sense of triumph to wash over him, but it never did.

Instead, her fragile figure retreating only after a weak attempt at returning even the smallest amount of the hurt she felt, Jeongguk still felt heavy. Heavy with remorse and guilt. Heavy with the pressure reflected in his friends’ eyes. And he couldn’t handle that. He stood up shortly after Eunbi left, his brain refusing to internalise Dahye’s affront and the group’s deafening silence.

Hours later, Jeongguk lies wide awake, his eyes staring into the void of the tent. He hasn’t been able to keep them shut for more than a minute, his mind a battlefield. He finds it’s impossible to resonate between the insatiable desire for revenge and the exhaustion rendering him numb to any possibility of feeding that need. There’s a part of him that just wants peace.

Glancing to his side, Jimin and Taehyung sleep soundly in the cramped space, blissfully unaware of the storm raging inside him. Neither of them had wanted to dive too deep into what happened, the spat words, the irrational rage constantly taking over their younger friend and keeping him stuck between fight and flight with no escape. Jimin only offered a soft pat on the shoulder and his warmest smile, “It’ll be okay, Jeonggukkie. Let’s just sleep now, hm?”

Jeongguk wishes it could have been as simple as Jimin made it sound. For his friends, it was. They both fell asleep without trouble, and Jeongguk is grateful for that. At least two out of three of them were getting the rest they deserved. Still, he’s careful not to wake them while he quietly slips out of the tent.

The early morning air is crisp, biting at his skin, but the sensation is grounding. Dawn is just beginning to break, soft light spilling over the horizon and casting everything in a faint glow. The quiet sounds of nature surround him, and though they don’t quite ease the weight in his chest, they provide a temporary lull. It’s the cool air caressing his face and threading through his hair that brings some sort of order.

His thoughts start to settle. They don’t feel like a stadium of shouting voices anymore. The yells quiet down and he’s able to sift through them now, picking each one apart, giving himself the space to breathe. It’s not perfect, but it’s better. He feels like he can move past this— if not for his own sake, then for the sake of the others.

Still, there’s one thought that refuses to be silenced. One question that lingers just beneath the surface, gnawing at the edges of his justified anger. It’s persistent, creeping into his mind with every inhale. Why does hurting her hurt him too?

It seems like the simplest of questions, but Jeongguk refuses to accept what appears to be the answer. It sits there, plain as day, yet he pushes it away. He doesn’t want to keep dissecting it, turning it over and over in his mind, trying to find any other plausible way out, but he can’t help himself. His thoughts spiral, stretching the minutes into what feels like eternity, until he loses track of time altogether. He zones out so deeply that when he finally snaps back, it’s only because the quiet sound of a tent zipper reaches his ears, followed by Hoseok’s hesitant head poking out.

Jeongguk blinks, suddenly aware that he’s been sitting in the same spot, on the same chair, staring at the same patch of dirt for who knows how long. Hours, at least. His body feels stiff, his mind trapped in an endless loop. He wonders if he’s lost his ability to pull himself out of this mental prison, if this is it. He’s stuck. His birthday is less than 24 hours away, and he’s more miserable than he’s been in months.

His chest tightens when he sees Hoseok walking toward him. Panic rises swiftly, because Hoseok had witnessed last night’s disaster. They all had. His hands clench into fists, his orbs trembling as doubt swarms his mind. Did he ruin the entire trip for everyone? Is the tension in the air his fault? Is he the cause of the awkward silence that lingered after he tore Eunbi apart with his words? Do they hate—

“Jeonggukkie? You okay?”

The softness in Hoseok’s tone almost makes Jeongguk flinch. It’s so gentle, filled with concern, and for a moment he questions everything he’s been telling himself. If Hoseok hated him, if any of them did, he wouldn’t be standing here now, looking at him with such care in his eyes.

Jeongguk only nods in response, the tension in his shoulders unwinding just a little as his older friend’s face softens into a sweet smile. There’s no judgement, no condemnation. Just quiet understanding. He waits in the lingering silence as Hoseok moves to freshen up. The moment he returns, settling into one of the chairs nearby, Jeongguk feels a sudden urge to speak clawing at his throat. He knows if he doesn’t start talking, the weight of the trap of his own mind will tighten around him again. So he talks, talks and talks about anything that doesn’t resemble the doom he was slipping into.

He’s a fugitive from his thoughts, and he keeps running even when more of the others join the small circle in the middle of the campsite. None of them seem to look at Jeongguk differently, the jokes flowing naturally as small laughs fill the quiet morning. It’s as if everything is as it should be, and he feels himself ease back into composure. Though, the guilt still lingers, heavy and unshakable. He ignores it.

The sun climbs higher in the sky, casting light above them and providing Jeongguk with warmth that he stores in his chest. He gets more of that from his friends’ smiles and the excitement flowing energetically out of them as Hoseok explains they’ll be cycling today, crossing scenic paths that round the campsite.

He watches as they all gather, geeking about today’s activity and stuffing their faces with as much food as they can get their hands on. The topic soon shifts to his birthday, which Jeongguk is particularly dreading. They’re already planning to get him wasted tonight, and the boy chuckles softly, though his laughter is hesitant, distracted.

His gaze keeps drifting to the one tent that hasn’t opened yet, the only place that remains closed off to the rest of the group. The only two people missing from their little circle haven’t joined yet, and it’s hard for Jeongguk to ignore that. To ignore her.

With more minutes going by and the tent unmoving, remaining still and almost mocking in its silence, he finds it even harder to focus on the laughter and the lightness of the morning. The world outside his head seems to move on without him, blissfully unaware of the turmoil inside him. On one side, he’s relieved that the attention has shifted away from him, that the day can unfold even without him being fully present. But that same realisation makes him feel like he’s teetering on the edge, dangerously close to falling back into the prison of his own thoughts.

Oblivious to it, his inner struggle is written all over his face, clear as day to anyone who cares enough to look. And Jimin notices right away. He doesn’t say anything at first, just reaches out to gently caress Jeongguk’s shoulder, the touch so light that the brown haired boy startles slightly before meeting his friend’s gaze. Jimin’s face is soft, a sweet smile tugging at his lips as he tilts his head, “Something on your mind?”

His tone is gentle, almost knowing. Jeongguk shakes his head, brushing off the concern, but his eyes flicker, and his own body betrays him when he instinctively turns once again to check for any movement from the tent. The subtle action doesn’t go unnoticed by the blonde, who hums and makes the other boy sigh wearily, an excuse ready on his lips, “I just haven’t had much sleep.”

“Why don’t you go call Eunbi and Dahye? They probably won’t get to have breakfast if we’re leaving soon.” Jimin’s suggestion comes with caution but it strikes a chord.

Jeongguk stares at his friend, though it feels more like he’s staring through him. The words hang in the air as he zones out, weighing his options. He doesn’t want them to miss breakfast, sure. And part of him just wants to check on them, to make sure they’re okay. Breathing, alive. Yeah, that’s it.

But a question lingers: is he ready to face Eunbi so directly? The task sounds simple enough—just call them over, remind them they’ll have to leave soon for the day’s plans. But the weight of last night still clings to him. What if he hasn’t recovered from the poison he spat? What if that anger rises up, unprovoked, and spills out again? Worse, what if he can’t say anything at all? Or what if Eunbi sees him and returns all the evil, even stronger and sharper? What if she hits back harder and he’s left bleeding on the ground?

The furious speed at which his thoughts churn makes Jeongguk’s head spin, a relentless loop that threatens to overtake him, before the weight on his lap pulls him back. He glances down to see a plate of food resting there—some leftovers from breakfast. When he looks back at his friend, Jimin’s gaze is comforting, “You could bring them this and check if they’re okay with leaving in 30 minutes, hm?”

Jimin is crouching beside him, eyes soft but knowing, not pushing or pressing for anything, but somehow encouraging him all the same. The reassurance he finds in his gaze is enough for Jeongguk. His rushed thought process slows down, and he has room to realise he was only letting irrational panic speak. There’s no reason why any of those scenarios and possible outcomes could roll out only from calling his friends (well, his friend and… Eunbi) over for breakfast.

Jeongguk nods as he stands, his movements stiff at first, his hands clutching the plate tightly. Even with the knowledge he doesn’t have to necessarily address Eunbi, each step toward the tent feels like he’s carrying the weight of the world. The ground beneath him crunches softly, and his heart unreasonably picks up. The idea of simply facing her makes him sick to his stomach. He doesn’t want to accept it, but it’s guilt that’s causing that.

He’s so consumed by trying to chase away his own thoughts he doesn’t immediately register he’s close enough now that he can see the outline of the closed tent flap. It takes him even more to discern the sounds coming from inside. At first, it’s just a faint noise—muffled, almost unintelligible.

But as he draws closer, it becomes clearer. His steps falter. Another second goes by before he places it, and then it hits him like a punch to the gut. Eunbi is crying.

Jeongguk’s body tenses. No, she’s sobbing. It feels like someone’s wrapped a hand around his heart and squeezed. Her words are barely comprehensible, choked-out syllables and pleading whispers. He can make out enough to know that she’s begging, almost desperately, for Dahye to take her away from here.

Jeongguk freezes, paralyzed by the intensity of each of her desperate gasps. The world around him fades. The raw sound of her pain consumes him, and it cuts through him in ways he didn’t anticipate. He had wanted this, hadn’t he? He had wanted to hurt her, to see her broken, see her exactly like this. He had succeeded. He thought it would somehow bring him peace, make things right. Then why does each sob that escapes her build a shattering pressure in his chest?

It all ended up feeling wrong. As if he’s the one falling apart, the one who can’t catch his breath. Her grief echoes in him, breaking pieces inside he thought were long buried. There’s that gnawing guilt, eating away at the anger he had used to justify everything.

With the cries growing louder in his ears, he finds an answer as to why it hurts to hurt her. And it’s a persistent whisper he can no longer ignore.

Jeongguk struggles. He struggles to process it all, his senses slow. He doesn’t know whether to walk away or step closer. His head is screaming at him to move, to do something, but his body won’t listen.

It takes him another moment to realise that Dahye is moving inside the tent, her voice low and soothing as she tries to comfort Eunbi. Then, the tent flap rustles, and Dahye steps out. The moment her eyes land on him, her expression shifts, hardening with disappointment that sends a new wave of guilt crashing into him.

“You really fucked up this time.” She doesn’t bother to hide what seemed to only paint her features seconds ago. Jeongguk is left momentarily stunned, even more with her shoulder brushing against his as she walks past him. It’s suddenly too fast, and he can’t bring himself to respond, can’t find the words to defend himself or apologise.

His gaze falls down in an attempt to regain control over his actions, but as he searches for something, anything, to ground him he notices that the tent is left slightly open. Through the small gap, he can only see darkness and make out the quiet sniffles coming from Eunbi. His body stills, the sound only worsening the mess of thoughts crashing into each other.

One realisation sends a fresh wave of panic through him. Eunbi can see him. She knows he’s there, standing. Doing nothing, even while she cries. The jolt rushes all through his muscles this time, travelling from his brain, and it’s enough to finally get him to move.

Jeongguk takes a shaky step back, only to turn around fast when he’s met with a possibility he doesn’t want to confront. If he sees her face — red, tear-streaked, her eyes swollen from crying — he doubts he’d be able to handle it. Handle the sight of the pain that he caused. He’s sure he’d lose whatever fragile control he has left. He’s already on the brink of breaking just from hearing her. Seeing her like that would undo him completely.

As he retreats, the weight of everything he’s done settles in. He wonders if they’ve reached a point of no coming back. The hurt is too deep, the damage too irreversible. And for the first time, even the foolish kid inside him, the one that still craves for his Dal, wonders if they’ll ever be able to find their way back to each other. The bridge between them feels burned, reduced to ashes, and he’s terrified that there’s no rebuilding it. It’s falling apart for good.

It’s impossible for Jeongguk to keep the dread eating at his insides from showing on his face. It betrays him, every ounce of regret etched plainly across his features. He reluctantly lifts up his gaze. Especially when he’s met with Jimin’s concerned one, the pity there making his stomach twist even tighter, and Dahye’s flaring eyes cutting through him like daggers.

Eunbi steps out shortly after. She moves quietly, almost too quietly, as if she’s trying to blend and disappear into the air. He can immediately tell that she’s made an effort to mask the misery, the makeup she’s wearing is heavier than usual. Too much in places that don’t need it. A shield against him.

But he refuses to let himself look at her for too long. His eyes flit away before he’s forced to see too much. Before the truths he runs from hit him square in the face, before he’s able to discern the words that should be spoken but remain unsaid.

Once again, he lets his doubts speak louder than reason. He convinces himself that all of his friends are against him, that they’re watching him with eyes full of judgement. They’re at his throat, ready to pounce, ready to pin all the blame on him. He can almost feel their fingers pointing in his direction, like they’ve already made up their minds. He’s the guilty one. He’s the tainted, selfish asshole who ruins everything.

That’s why Jeongguk cycles slowly, deliberately hanging back, lagging behind the rest of the group. He can’t bear to meet their eyes, to force himself into their light-hearted mood. He doesn’t feel like belonging there, right now. It feels like he’s on the outside looking in, like he’s forgotten what it means to just feel at peace.

So, he keeps his distance. It’s easier to stay where it’s quiet. Where he doesn’t have to put up an act or force himself to be present. The silence feels more like a refuge than loneliness, a momentary escape from the relentless noise in his mind.

In front of him, Eunbi cycles just as slowly. They’re both drifting behind the group, caught in their own separate orbits, not really blending with the others. Jeongguk unconsciously fixates on the steady rhythm of her bike wheels, the way they spin effortlessly, guiding her along the path. It’s a repeated, ceaseless action that serves as a temporary anchor to avoid sinking under.

Without meaning to, he finds himself mimicking their speed, gradually inching closer to her, his bike mirroring the pace of her wheels. The space between them narrows, and when he notices it, he pulls back slightly. Only to repeat the same motion moments later, closing the gap again. And again. It’s like he’s automatically attracted to the movement, which unintentionally draws him to her.

It’s Eunbi’s weary sigh cutting through the soft hum of the tires against the ground that snaps him out of that mindless trance, the one that had briefly distracted him from the darker thoughts creeping at the edges of his brain, “Can you stop doing that?”

Her voice, edged with irritation, breaks through the fog in his head. Jeongguk stills, confused, not even realising what she meant. He hums questioningly, his brows furrowing.

“I’m not in the mood for a race,” she mutters, not even looking back at him, her tone flat but tinged with weariness.

Jeongguk blinks, caught off guard, and he feels a flash of defensiveness rise up before he can stop it, “I— I wasn’t—”

“Whatever.” She cuts him off, sounding more tired than angry, “I just feel... anxious knowing you’re— there. Behind me. Please, just go ahead.”

The words strike him harder than they should, hitting him in a place he doesn’t want to acknowledge. They settle deep, mingling with guilt and frustration. Her voice, so casual yet heavy with discomfort, only stirs up the irrational anger that always seems to bubble up whenever they interact, the same one that brought them to this breaking point.

Before he can stop himself, he bites back, “Oh, now you’re the one feeling anxious.”

Eunbi’s shoulders stiffen, and her words shake with fatigue, begging once again, “Please, I don’t wanna start this again.”

“We’re not starting anything,” Jeongguk snaps back, his tone biting despite himself. Even he doesn’t believe it. It always feels like they’re on the verge of starting something, like every word is a match waiting to spark.

This time, she whips her head to look at him over her shoulder, her voice rising as her patience thins, “Oh, really? Then what is th—”

The words die in her throat as her bike catches on something, and in an instant, she’s thrown forward. She’s sent tumbling on the ground, her body skidding against the rocky surface, the harsh sound of scraping skin filling the air as her hands and knees are victim to the fall.

Jeongguk’s heart drops. The fragile tension between them shatters, and his breath catches in his throat. He doesn’t think—he just reacts. “Dal!”

Before he knows it, panic overtakes him and he’s off his bike in a flash, letting it crash behind him as he rushes to her side. His voice shakes when he kneels beside her, the name escaping him again, raw and urgent.

Eunbi is sprawled on the ground, dirt smudged across her skin, her hands trembling as they try to push her own body up. Jeongguk immediately detects the blood seeping from the cuts on her knees, then scans through her face contorted in pain. He searches her whole body for more wounds with wide, desperate eyes and he notices her palms are also bleeding.

His hands hover uselessly, unsure where to touch or how to help without hurting her more. His heart is racing, pounding in his chest as the sight of her like this rips through him. It feels like the ground has been yanked out from beneath his feet.

When he speaks again, his voice is rough with fright, “Are you okay?” It’s the first thing he manages to blurt out, while helping her turn on her back. But it’s a stupid question—he can see she’s not okay. He can see the ache written all over her features, more blood dripping from her cuts.

Eunbi doesn’t respond immediately. Her breath comes out in sharp, shaky gasps. Jeongguk can see the shock of it all settling into her body and he watches as she tries to pull herself together, her face pale. Eunbi mutters, her voice small but strained, attempting to sit up in slow movements, “I’m fine.”

Jeongguk feels himself spiralling. The terror in her eyes is reflected in his, but it seems to hit him ten times stronger than what the bruised girl has to deal with right now. His orbs widen impossibly more as the seconds go by, and when her eyes seem to mist over with tears he can’t help his own palms from framing her face and searching for possible scratches he couldn’t spot with his attentive gaze, then grasps her arms.

This isn’t how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to make her feel the hurt he carried, make her understand how deep his pain went. But now, as he looks at her, all he can think is how wrong that is. The sight of her suffering doesn’t give him any satisfaction. Only a pang deep in his chest, something ugly that he doesn’t know how to deal with.

“I’m fine,” Eunbi repeats again, this time with a little more conviction, a small, forced smile barely reaching her lips. But Jeongguk can see right through it. He hopes she can feel the intention seeping from his contact, his hold rough but warm over her goosebumps-covered skin.

The rushed moment gives no space for the resentment they had grown accustomed to these past days, and it wraps them up in a bubble from which the present is locked out. They’re outside Jeongguk’s porch, and Eunbi just fell on her hands and knees trying to learn how to roller skate. Her best friend sits beside her, taking care of her pain.

Even with their friends now hovering above them, throwing concerned questions at her, Jeongguk’s entire focus is on Eunbi. He follows her every slight movement, every shift of her body as she tries to mask the discomfort. His eyes study the way her face scrunches in pain, his heart aching in time with her every wince. And every time she looks at him, silently seeking reassurance, he’s right there, offering it in the softening of his gaze.

As the group’s voices become a chaotic hum around them, Eunbi’s low murmur slips past the noise, meant only for him, “Gguk. Maybe I don’t feel so fine.”

Her sheepish smile doesn’t reach her eyes, and the worry in her eyebrows betrays her light-hearted attempt. Jeongguk doesn’t hesitate. He immediately reacts, delicately leading her upper body down again. Seated on his heels, he lays her head on his lap and keeps her eyes on his face, his voice soothing, “It’s okay, Bee. Look at me. You’re going to be fine.”

Eunbi nods, trying to will herself into trusting him, but Jeongguk sees the uncertainty etched into every line of her face. Her eyes, wide with panic, keep darting down to her legs, where Namjoon holds them up steady, and Dahye works carefully to clean her wounds. There’s terror in her eyes every time she follows the blood trickling down her skin and notices how it keeps flowing out furiously. Jeongguk knows that look all too well. He’s seen it before, is aware of how blood unsettles her, how easily fear grips her in moments like these.

He acts instinctively, gently covering her eyes with one of his hands, the thumb subtly caressing her forehead, “Don’t look, Dal. Close your eyes, hm?”

Jeongguk can feel the hesitancy radiating from the group, their confusion practically tangible as they watch the scene unfold. They’ve seen him and Eunbi at each other’s throats, and now this tenderness feels foreign. But to him, it’s more familiar than any of the anger he’s harboured towards her. It’s like something pulling at the edges of his consciousness, reminding him of how it always has been, and should have been.

He refuses to linger on that thought now. Rational explanations and consequences can wait for later. Right now, all he cares about is making sure Eunbi is okay.

Her fall wasn’t severe, not by any medical standard, but the sight of her pale face and the cold sweat clinging to her skin keeps his nerves taut. He can't relax, not when he can still feel the tremble in her body and see the fright in her eyes. The panic washing over her features only makes him grip her a little tighter.

Namjoon breaks through the haze of Jeongguk’s focus, his voice concerned as he lowers Eunbi’s legs gently to the ground. “I need a shirt or something. Tissues won’t be enough here.”

It seems more as if he’s muttering to himself than anyone else, because he instantly moves to search in his backpack. Jeongguk is quicker, reacting without hesitation, still making sure Eunbi is shielded from the view of her knee scratched and raw with blood, “There’s one in my backpack. You can rip it if you need to.”

Namjoon pauses for a moment, looking at Jeongguk with doubt and something else he can’t quite place. But after a beat, he nods, unzipping the bag and pulling out the t-shirt.

The older boy calls Eunbi’s attention on him, and Jeongguk’s hand reluctantly slips away from her face, settling in her hair instead. Namjoon’s tone is gentle, keeping the girl grounded, “Okay Bi. I’m going to press very hard now. It’ll hurt a bit, but I need to stop the bleeding. You okay?”

Eunbi nods, her expression tight with fear but determined to stay calm. She focuses solely on Namjoon’s face, deliberately avoiding the sight of her knee, where blood continues to drip down, relentless and vivid against her skin. The second Namjoon applies pressure, she lets out a sharp squeal, her brows knitting together as soft whimpers follow, each sound striking Jeongguk with a deep sense of helplessness.

And it’s more than he can bear. Without thinking, he reaches for Namjoon’s wrist, halting his movement, his voice tight and edged with a protectiveness he can’t suppress, “Yo, you’re hurting her. Don’t press so hard.”

The other boy meets his eyes, a small scoff escaping his lips without going unnoticed, his expression steady, “I’m studying to be a doctor. I think I know what I’m doing.”

“You’re studying to be a vet, that’s not a fucking doctor.” The comment slips past him before he can do anything about it, sharper than intended, fueled by frustration and anxiety. The unnecessary weight of his words reflect in the surprised reactions from his friends and the slight arch of Namjoon’s brow.

“Bibi kinda looks like a deer. I’d say it’s quite appropriate,” Dahye’s voice slices through the small, sudden moment of tension, and it’s sweet but tinged with humour, her light-hearted tone meant to ease some of her friend’s nerves. Eunbi chuckles, light and genuine, for the first time that morning. She searches for the taller girl’s gaze and finds her crouching next to Jeongguk, close to her.

Jeongguk notices the shift in her immediately, the way her features relax, the calm that briefly washes over her. He scrutinises every subtle change, searching for the girl he’d spent years knowing. But as he looks down at her, still resting in his lap, her gaze lingering on Dahye before quickly finding his and then returning to Namjoon, he spots something that twists in his gut.

There’s a shift in her eyes. Uncertainty. It all comes rushing back. It’s not just the physical pain that’s pulling her away. The brief connection they had shared slips through his fingers. It’s like a switch has been flipped, and they’re back where they always end up, strangers that know everything about the other, even when they’re this close. The softness in her eyes is not directed at him, and it’s then replaced by doubt. The image causes an obnoxious alarm to go off in his head. He doesn’t know how to restore the moment. Doesn’t want it to end.

Frantic, he keeps combing his fingers through her hair, desperate to hold onto any remains. His movements are absentminded, mechanical almost, as if he’s afraid to let go completely. Then, the need to hear her voice becomes almost overwhelming, and his words come out soft, tentative, “You okay?”

When she only nods, he frowns. It does little to ease his mounting anxiety.

Namjoon resumes his work diligently, and Eunbi eventually sits up, the warmth of her body now gone from Jeongguk’s lap. It only leads him to further seek for a way to bridge the gap, forcing a gentle smile, “Dal, it’s not even bleeding anymore. See?”

“Oh god, is she dying? She’s gonna bleed out.” It’s Hoseok’s dramatic outburst shattering the moment and Jeongguk’s every possible attempt at mending it, as the boy crouches down to inspect the stained shirt wrapped around Eunbi’s leg with a grimace.

Eunbi, who had just started to calm down, now feels her breath quicken. She instinctively looks at Jeongguk, her eyes pleading for reassurance, but before he can offer his comfort, Hoseok’s over-the-top concern strikes again, “Bi, what’s your blood type? Just in case we might need to give you a blood transfusion.”

“What? Is he serious?” Her eyes widen in disbelief as she searches for the bloodstain but finds Jeongguk quickly pulling her shoulder to keep her still, “He’s just—”

"Actually, I once watched a tutorial on YouTube on how to do that. It’s not that hard. We just need to find someone with your same blood type and you’re set." Jimin’s sudden comment adds to the absurdity, and Jeongguk groans, his frustration mingling with the ridiculousness of the situation.

”You two, shut up and help me clean these,” rolling her eyes, Dahye puts an end to the foolish interaction and urges them to take care of the cuts on Eunbi’s palms, still unattended. Hoseok tries, he does, but he feels like facing blood this close will probably result in him fainting. He doesn’t think having another person on the verge of passing out would help. So, he calls for Taehyung to take over while he just resolves by trying to distract Eunbi, “I was just kidding, doesn’t look so bad. Where did you get this top, by the way?”

Jeongguk hesitates. He can’t focus on the banter. His anxiety is slowly eating at his insides, and he knows he should let go of whatever bubble he found himself trapped into. Should burst it with the slightest nudge of his finger, the mocking plop! sound eventually bringing him back to the present and making the sounds clearer, closer. But he can’t. He’s feverish as Eunbi seems to avoid his gaze further, only offering small smiles when he attempts to comfort her like he did while she was laying on his legs, her eyes trained on his and seemingly the only thing able to keep her stable. The chaos makes his head spin, but what’s worse is the feeling that she’s slipping away, again. Even if it was just an illusion to begin with.

Deep in the spiral of his thoughts, it takes him a moment to notice that Eunbi is being helped up by Namjoon, and that she’s holding onto his forearms while taking small, hesitant steps without applying too much pressure on the bruised knee. Namjoon hums in concern, then looks behind his shoulders, “Hey, my bike has a seat behind. I’m taking Eunbi back to the campsite.”

The words snap Jeongguk out of his daze, making him stand up and instantly pulling him back from whatever other mental trap he had fallen right into. Even if it seems to be too late now, Eunbi restoring the wall between them brick by brick, his heart kicks into overdrive, and before he even knows what he’s doing, he blurts out with more urgency than necessary, “I’ll come with you!”

The response is immediate, and not in the way he expects. All eyes land on him, doubtful, surprised. He can feel the shift in the air, a tension settling around him as his friends exchange glances, unsure of where this sudden burst of energy came from. The awkwardness of the moment seeps into his skin, and Jeongguk clears his throat, feeling the heat rise to his face, “I’ll— I’ll help take Eunbi’s bike back.”

Dahye pats him on the shoulder reassuringly, and Jeongguk is momentarily taken aback considering their earlier interaction and how she had looked at him with murderous intents. This time, she sports a soft smile, “Don’t worry, Gguk. I’ll do it.”

Jeongguk opens his mouth to argue, but Namjoon cuts in, his expression equally puzzled by the younger’s outburst, “Yeah, man. You should stay here and enjoy the day. It’s your birthday, after all.”

“But—“

”You did enough already, Gguk. Stay with the others, we’ll take care of her.” After throwing him a convincing nod, Dahye is already pulling Eunbi’s bike up and steadying it, quickly collecting her own that had stopped not too far away.

Jeongguk frantically searches for Eunbi’s gaze, for any sign that he should push further, that she needs him with her. But as they lock eyes, the weight of his earlier actions come crashing down on him, like a bucket of cold water. He let himself get carried away in a distant fantasy that doesn’t belong in his reality, that shouldn’t have unfolded in their present. It only led him to try and force his way into a situation where he wasn’t needed. No, where he wasn’t wanted. The thought stings more than he cares to admit.

He seeks for confirmation either way, hanging on the last remaining thin thread, the name slipping from his tongue again, tentative, “Are you sure, Bee?”

Eunbi hesitates, her arms wrapping around her figure, shielding herself from him. She also seems to be realising the unfamiliarity of the moment, of his sweet tone, his eyes never once hardening when they land on her. And it’s weird, because she should be accepting this version of him with much more ease. But instead, she finds support in their distance right now, and she lowers her gaze, “Yes, Jeongguk. I don’t want to bother you further.”

A small gasp fights its way up his throat, but he stops it. He tries to argue, stuttering, “You— You’re not— Whatever. Huh, call if anything happens?”

His eyes are still trained on Eunbi, but she doesn’t react. Dahye chuckles softly to try and soothe the air, “Hey, she’s okay. It’s just a few scratches. Right, Bibi?”

The oddly silent girl nods, her head up again and now meeting Jeongguk with confidence, firmly holding his gaze, the smallest remains of whatever they got caught into scattered to the ground. He mirrors her nodding, attempting to smooth some of her certainty in himself, failing, “Huh— okay. I’m just— okay. I’ll see you later, then.”

Later comes, and Jeongguk barely sees Eunbi. The night grows louder, he’s surrounded by friends, their energy infectious as they prepare for his birthday, now just a few hours away. They’re bubbling with excitement, eyes bright with anticipation, instilling that nervous buzz that always hits him just before midnight. Jeongguk smiles along with them, but his heart isn’t quite in it.

Despite the laughter and the way the campfire crackles as they pass around bottles of alcohol, Jeongguk feels distant, like he's watching it all through a fog. His friends are trying, he can tell. They’re making every effort to keep him distracted, to drown out the noise in his head with their joy. Jokes fly around the fire, and every few minutes someone checks the time, gasping excitedly as midnight draws nearer. It’s sweet, thoughtful, and he genuinely appreciates it. But no matter how much he tries to focus on them, on the present moment, his mind keeps drifting. His eyes wander, searching for Eunbi.

She’s always just out of sight. There, but not fully. Lingering at the edges, sticking close to Dahye. Laughing quietly, but never wholly engaging with the group like she usually would, despite everything. It’s just enough to not raise suspicion, but it’s clear she’s retreating. Closing herself off from the rest of them, from him.

Jeongguk tells himself he’s reading too much into it. That she’s probably still finding it hard to recover from the earlier incident, her bruises still visible. But he also knows this feeling too well. He felt it after that ride on his motorcycle, Eunbi seeking for something in his eyes, the moment so tender but broken in an instant. He’s acquainted with the slow drift, the wall quietly being rebuilt between them. Taller, sturdier.

The campfire crackles, and his friends’ voices rise around him, but he’s only half there. Jeongguk wishes he could stop his mind from racing, wishes he could just fall into the rhythm of the celebration like everyone else.

And then midnight comes. With it, a burst of chaos. His friends spring to life, hoisting him up into the air, passing him between them like a beloved trophy. Their spark is contagious, and for a moment, Jeongguk lets himself be burnt by it. The joy, the love surrounding him. They sing him happy birthday, off-key and loud, pouring drinks and making ridiculous toasts. He allows himself to be showered by that affection. It’s not perfect, but it’s enough.

As the hours drag on, the celebration settles into a steady hum. They stay by the fire, some leaning into one another, others still joking around, the alcohol loosening their tongues. The earlier buzz mellows into something softer, more intimate, and Jeongguk feels himself unwind, even a little. He laughs more freely now, the weight of the night starting to lift as he becomes wrapped up in their warmth.

Eventually, exhaustion begins to creep in. One by one, his friends start to peel away, calling it a night and retreating to their tents with promises to continue the celebration tomorrow. They ruffle Jeongguk’s hair, poking at him one last time before bidding him goodnight, the warmth of their presence lingering even as they disappear. Jimin and Taehyung make sure he’s okay before heading to their tent, only after throwing final teases laced with affection at him. Jeongguk sports a boyish grin as he watches them go.

Then it’s just him, the fire crackling softly and the bright stars above him. They whisper something to him, but he can’t decipher it. It makes his skin prickle with the chill and his eyelids shut heavier, slower with every flutter. He doesn’t hear his thoughts so strongly, now. Maybe he chooses not to. He’s been dealing with them all day long, seeking for even one of the millions to lighten him with something he actually needs. Does he even know what he needs? The ache in his heart that refuses to settle hints at a negative answer.

Jeongguk knows there’s something he wants, though. He badly wants these first hours of his birthday to be blessed by a certain someone’s wishes. He completely lost sight of her in the earlier chaos. Didn’t get to check if a smile, even a forced one, was painting her lips when midnight struck.

Perhaps it’s the universe pitying him, reserving him with a gift that could or could not change his misery. But he soon realises he’s not alone when a soft clearing of a throat breaks the silence.

He turns and finds Eunbi standing there, hesitant. She visibly struggles with what to do, her legs refusing to bring her closer to him but her brain willing to, sheepishly taking the seat next to him, “Um. Happy birthday, I guess.”

Jeongguk recognises it instantly, the way she says it, her subtle, small, playful smile not lost on him. It mirrors the same tone he’d used when he had blurted it out awkwardly at her own birthday not too long ago, the first time they’d really spoken one-on-one. A small chuckle escapes him, unsure but undeniably warm, “Huh. Thanks.”

And then there’s silence. It stretches between them, heavy but not uncomfortable, like there’s something waiting beneath it, something unspoken. The two are deep in their thoughts, words they want to say hovering on the tip of their tongues, but neither quite ready to let them loose. The crackling of the fire fills the space, the occasional pop of embers the only sound as they sit side by side, both not used to the feeling.

Jeongguk hesitates, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. “Do you… feel better?”

Eunbi hums.

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

It goes quiet again, air thick and pregnant with everything left unsaid. Jeongguk hesitates, his mind swirling with the urge to say something, anything, but the fear of breaking whatever fragile truce they have keeps him quiet. He wants to ask her if she’s okay — really okay — but the words feel inadequate.

Eventually, it’s Eunbi who takes a deep breath, as if drawing in strength from the fire, from the quiet of the night around them, “I— I feel like… we should talk. Do— do you want to?”

Jeongguk’s chest tightens, his heart pounding, but then he nods.

“Yeah.”

[cactuscoolerr]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE ELABORATE ON BIG DICK NAGI HIS PULLOUT GAME IS PROBABLY SHIT BUT IT WOULD FEEL SO GOOD <3

omg…nagi with breeding and creampies…and he’s just so big and you can’t push him off of you cause he’s just laying on top of you now and he’s too heavy…big lazy baby…

⋆｡˚. nagi seishiro - needy nagi

• nsfw

• notes: also i think i accidentally went off topic.. but ummm yeah.. :-:

but bro.. nagis pull out game is literall ass 💀

he’ll be like “yeah i’ll pull out” blah blah but once he’s balls deep inside ur cunt he’s whining and whimpering ab how good u feel and how badly he doesn’t wanna pull out 😭 hes so annoying omg like he doesn’t even have a breeding kink tbh he just likes how u feel wrapped around him but if you have a breeding kink then that makes it better cuz both of u win in the end 🙏

but like if ur not into breeding and u don’t want him cumming inside of u then u and him r completely stocked on condoms 💀

i wholeheartedly believe that nagi is a sex fiend. like this mf didn’t get it at first since he’s never had anyone to have sex with but once u and him finally had sex a few months into ur relationship, he can’t not be in ur cunt. HES SO DUMB I HATE HIM. like ur first time was awful bc he was inexperienced and so were u but he had absolutely no clue ab anything while u had a general idea. ong bro thought he could just push into u without prep or anything.. he was def like “why isn’t it going in?” “oh ur crying? what’s wrong?” LIKE STFU OMFG 😭😭😭

and then you’d be telling him that he’s fucking huge and he can’t just push inside of u like that and he’s just like “oh” LMFAO

like this is how i imagine it’d go:

it felt like you and nagi had been making out for hours before you were gently helping him out of his clothes while he took yours off. he seemed hesitant, but you knew that he was curious about sex with how fast he was with pulling off your panties and your bra.

“you’re wet” nagi sounded breathless but he spoke in that usual bored tone, despite the way his eyes seemed to light up.

you didn’t say anything to him, gulping softly once you held his hardened cock in your hand. while making out, you felt him grow hard and you knew that he’d be big, but you didn’t think he’d be this big. a part of you felt scared for the pain, but the other part of you was excited for the way he’d stretch out your virgin cunt and fuck into you.

hesitantly, you dragged your hand up his cock and towards his cock head, making him wince softly. your eyes met his with concern, but he just stared down at you without any emotion clear on his face. “you need to do it like this,” he spoke and grasped onto your wrist, bringing it up towards his face before spitting on your palm. “it hurts if you don’t use spit”

your eyes stayed on his for a second longer before hesitantly bringing your hand back down to wrap around his cock. his words only made you afraid of hurting him, which wasn’t what he was trying to do when he told you that.

but once you began stroking his cock gently, he let out a small whine before falling forward to lean his forehead on your shoulder.

“feels good..” he whimpered softly, close to your ear with his warm breath fanning your neck. “wanna be inside of you.. bet thatd feel so much better, pretty”

you let out a shaky breath and looked down at your hand on his cock. the sight made you clench around nothing, suddenly needing to feel his huge cock inside of you. “ok..”

surprisingly, it took a lot longer to get into position than you thought necessary, but you felt that it was worth it once nagi stood above you on his knees, in between your spread legs, his eyes fixated on your wet pussy. you couldn’t even tell what he was thinking anymore with the far away look in his eyes.

“ok..” you breathed out and looked up at the ceiling, “do you know what you’re doing?”

nagi didn’t say anything, only nodding, despite how you couldn’t see him. without any warning, nagi pressed his cock head into your folds before trying his best to slide into your cunt. you let out a loud whine and involuntarily attempted to press your thighs together, only to be stopped by nagi’s huge body from above you.

with the small whines and the tears building up in your eyes, nagi looked down at you with a look of confusion. “what’s wrong?” he asked, finally some emotion in his voice. “you can’t just fuck me” you scolded, not completely aware of what you were saying, which only left nagi even more confused.

“i thought that’s what we were doing..?” he asked while bringing his hands to rest on your knees with how tired he was getting. he didn’t think sex would take this long to start. “yeah, but..” you couldn’t finish your sentence as you began crying softly. he looked down at you, still confused before sighing deeply.

a quiet groan sounded from him before spreading your legs once more and collapsing on top of your body, careful not to crush you.

“i’m sorry, pretty..” he said softly against your neck, “didn’t mean to make you cry” nagi’s soft yawn against your skin made you laughs softly before sniffling and looking down at him. “it’s ok.. you didn’t know”

“but you can’t just push into me..” you said with a small pout and he propped himself up to look at you. “why not?” his face was full of confusion once more and you had to resist the urge to laugh, finding him adorable. “you’re way too big, sei.. you’ll hurt me really bad if you do..”

nagi’s gaze softened at your tone before ducking down to kiss you, something he knew how to do well. “i’m sorry..” he whispered against your lips before hesitantly moving to sit back on his knees again. you could see the tired look in his eyes from where he looked down on you, but you didn’t say anything.

“can i try again..?” nagi said, tone still gentle as he looked at you. “i promise i can do better for you”

his words made you melt and you nodded, propping yourself up on your elbows before starting to guide him in fingering you open before taking his cock.

[ventique18]

After 200 years, Malleus miraculously held on without dying... But now they're in a state of panic because 3 months ago he completely stopped accepting Maleficia's power. His heartbeat was growing weaker and weaker, then a week ago he's put up this barrier. He's rejecting everyone who tries to go near him.

Then suddenly...

"There's a cry... Do you all not hear it?"

HE'S CRYING "BYUUUUUU----"

So Lilia rushes over towards Eggleus, but Baul stops him because what if he gets hit by the lightning?

Lilia: "You idiot! A brat who can't even open his eyes is crying!

Then Lilia keeps screaming Malleus name, but the boy strikes him with lightning and hits him directly. It was painful, but Lilia LAUGHS.

"Haha! That's the first time in 200 years that you've answered me!"

Malleus cries again, and Lilia apologizes that he still wasn't able to hatch him in 200 years. Malleus strikes him again as if to say "That's not it!" Lilia then screams back puzzled and asks him to stop crying and start speaking in a language that Lilia understands.

Malleus strikes him again, so Lilia says fuck it and tells the child to CRY, GO ON AND CRY SOME MORE!

"MELEANOR! LEVAN! Are you seeing this from up above?! You're sitting pretty up there huh?!" <- HE'S SAYING THAT BECAUSE HE'S GETTING TORN APART BY MALLEUS' LIGHTNING STRIKES OMFG

"I won't let go of Malleus! I will let him see, a world that the two of you couldn't..!"

[notmuchtofind]

public eye pt2 | d.s

tw: low appetite, possible miscarriage, cheating

pt 1 here

a/n: it’s finally out lol!! tysm for the interaction on the past fic🥹 i hope you enjoy! lmk your thoughts x

"drew if it's not what you want and it's what I eventually want, are we even right for each other? What are we doing? You don't care for me like you usto, you're not the same. you're a dick" you say trying not to shout

"I don't know what I want right now?" Drew states, not looking you in the eyes.

How's he being so calm? Why is he doing this? This is not like drew.

"fuck you." You stand up out of the chair and walk right out of the cafe doors, tears start streaming down your face and you try to hide your face with the palm of your hand...

*snap* followed by a flicker

*snap* *snap*

fuck.

you look around...

"Is that paparazzi?" you mumble to yourself 

you walk faster to your car, quickly opening the door and throwing your bag on the backseat, you fumble to turn the engine on and see slight flickers through the rearview mirror...this is the last thing you need right now.

_________________________

After setting your keys aside on the kitchen table and kicking your shoes off, you immediately undressed out of the clothes you had picked out to see Drew in and chucked on your dressing. spending the rest of that day on the couch. Tears would brim in your eyes, often spilling over through the course of the day as you'd replay what had been said by drew in your mind. And there was no text from him. no apology, no checking up on you, no nothing...maybe this was really over? It seemed to all happen so quickly. How could you go from, what people knew as the 'IT' couple, to being, well...nothing.

Passed out on the couch, you are awoken by the pinging of notifications coming from your phone. In a dazed state your initial thought is that Drews trying to get hold of you. Your hand fumbles around the couch as you follow the sound trying to relocate the phone. You pick it up, eyes half wide, and check the time. 4:07am.

"fuck" you mumble too yourself, you've been on this couch for nearly 12 hours...

As your eyes wander down from the timestamp at the top of your phone screen, you lock your gaze onto the first notification.

Twitter : @drewobxlover03 Tagged you in a post.

'okay, pretty normal?' you think to yourself 

but as your sleepy eyes drift down some more...

6,789 more.

You quickly adjust your position on the couch, now sitting up as your back leans against the arm of it... your gaze widens.

Too caught up in your own trail of thoughts and distress when you entered your home earlier, The flickers from the paparazzi camera didn't even cross your mind. You were used to it to say the least, but you'd forgotten the difference in what they may have captured earlier on...

Your finger glides over the notifications and swipes to open.

You're met with a picture grid.

A "slideshow" full of your swollen teary face. Drews hands flailing around at you through the cafe windows. your figure towering over drew as you got up out of your seat. You abruptly dash out of the cafe doors...

The number on your twitter activity heading just keeps rising... and rising. 

A pit in your stomach starts to grow, but You can't help but click on more, its a bad idea... 

Met by more photos of you from different angles, red streaks from tears that have trailed down your cheeks. Feelings of embarrassment overcome your being.

until the embarrassment turns into dismay.

Your palm meets your mouth, shocked by the images on your phone screen, you're breathed.

They're in a car...pictures of him, and her... touching her face?...They're laughing? they’re way too close for your liking.

your heart begins swelling with hurt, you feel a physical pain ache within your chest, thoughts that it may almost rupture.

You scan the comments, your thumb appears to be scrolling too fast for your eyes to catch up. 

@user0844628495: OMFG HE DIDN'T TT!!???

@Chaseforeverxoxo: I never liked y/n anyways lol.

@obxstufffff: Who is she??? 

@starkeyandy/l/n20: no no no no!!! please, I don't believe in true love fr :((((((

@user984763097: I hate men.

You should've known from the moment Drew was being distant after he started shooting for the new film that there was something off, that he'd possibly found another girl. it just never seemed to cross your mind. Not your drew? Not after nearly 4 years and especially not after you guys were so public with your relationship. 

Maybe it lingered in your subconscious...but your heart was too heavy to allow yourself to slip that possibility to the front of your mind. You feel like a fool.

The only person who knew you and drew just as equally was Madelyne. After phoning her up and apologising for how late it was, you explained the situation. she offered to come round and comfort you, and you allowed her to do just that, as you sobbed into her arms she was wiping your tears. She didn't say much, she just held you...the truth is there's not much she could say...at least not to you anyways. But she promised the next time she and Drew would come into contact it would not end well, and she was adamant that it would be the last time she would willingly be in the same room as him. Even though you met Madelyn through drew, you and her hit it off so quickly, it's like you found your platonic soulmate as well as your romantic one...or so you had thought.

~~~~~~~

Madelyn was passed out on the opposite side of the couch when you decided to get up and get some water, your appetite was certainly not present but you figured you should hydrate yourself, your tears had drained your body from water. You glance over to the kitchen as you make your way there. The time reads 8am on the digital clock within the microwave.

As you drag your feet around the kitchen, collecting a glass to fill with water, your ears prick up to the sound of a knock at your door. Confused, you slowly redirect your journey and turn to the front door. You peak through the peephole, to find the boy you've been in hysterics over for the past, well...however many hours.

He knocks again, this time a little louder.

Your mind starts racing, your heart begins to pound and you get that ever so familiar feeling of anxiety that rushes over you.

You shake your head in distress and you battle with your thoughts on what to do next...

"y/n...please, open the door... I know you're not asleep"

He's right, he knows you well enough to know your mind wouldn't allow you to sleep for more than a couple hours at a time when you're feeling upset.

You glance over to the couch where Madelyn still lays, her breaths slow and fall steadily.

You step a little closer to the door frame and lean your weight onto one side. "um, Drew...I-I really don't feel like speaking right now"

"please y/n, just open the door, let me explain myself... I- i've been shit I know and ...i'm sorry, can you just hear me out?" Drew utters through slight cracks in his voice.

Tears brim in your eyes as you listen through the door to the words that trail out of Drews mouth...you tilt your head back and gasp for air as you try and hold back your wave of emotions. You want to see him, you want to talk, but you feel like you're almost stuck, unable to think straight, you're not ready for the emotional baggage that a conversation like this would bring right now. You figure there's no real explanation on why Drew has treated you the way he has for the past couple of months, and no excuse for acting the way he had in the photos you'd seen, it all hurt you, and it was valid. 

Your brain is scattered trying to figure out the right way to go about all of this...but almost before your mind could tell you no, your hand reaches for the hinges to unlock the front door.

your eyes lock together, and you can see Drews been crying, they're bloodshot and his eyebags slightly swollen. You look down at your feet as you quietly step outside the front door and into the apartment block hallway. "i've got to come out here, Madelyn's asleep..." you whisper slightly. Drew nods sheepishly.

as you close the door and shuffle your feet in front of Drew, you look up to him and fold your arms. "so?...you wanted to talk to me what do you want you want to say?" you question

"I just wanted to say i'm sorry, that I never meant to hurt you, you were right, I have been a dick, i've been scared and stressed and i've made some stupid decision I-"

"did you sleep with her?" you interrupt, you couldn’t truly hear drew out until you got off what was on your mind, you just needed to know first.

"huh?" He questions, his eyebrows burrowing slightly 

"Did you sleep with her?" you utter through a passive tone

" I-what do you mean ?"

"Ive seen the fucking photos Joseph! did you. sleep. with her?" you exclaim, hands gesturing to emphasise your emotions.

"What? What photos y/n? I- I don't know what youre talking about?"

your heart skips a beat

The truth is, Drew hadn't looked on twitter, Drew hadn't seen the photos of you, or him, or her. He always kept his phone on do not disturb between the night and early morning. And when the realisation hits...you can't help but snap.

A small chuckle slips through your lips. "are you fucking kidding me drew?"` you spit " you really was going to come here, apologies and not be truthful about what happened last night, do you think im fucking stupid? look at your fucking phone!?" 

But before Drew can get out his phone to check what youre talking about, you get out your own, shoving the image of him and another girl into his face. "this?" you state through gritted teeth.

Drews expression changes, his brows drop. 

"anything to say? maybe the reason youve been such a dick is because youre fucking your co star huh?" 

but before you could ask him once more, you notice his attention isn’t on you, but is drawn towards the floor

As you look down towards your bare legs, you notice drops of blood beginning to fall from in between, first slowly…then all at once.

cramping begins in your lower abdomen, however, it doesn't feel familiar, it feels uneasy…you begin to panic, facing drew with your hand now clamped over your mouth… 

“what the fuck y/n, we- we have to get you to a hospital…”

a/n: pt3??????

@winterrrnight @loves0phelia @f4ll-for-you @leyla-1905 @dilvcv @abarleyexistentbeing @tringeorge @emmsyysstuff @missamericanablog @deadxrx @clearpoetryobservation-blog @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @emotionsmgcbabe @aliciacat20

[stargirlrchive]

call it what you want ✩ tsu’tey

masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

summary: tsu’tey x reader ! part one

word count: 1,132

comments: call it what you want by taylor swift is literally their song omfg... also ty bby for this brilliant idea oh my god @fanboyluvr i hope you love it!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The months had trickled by since you last spoke with Jake, truth be told it had nearly been a year. You had avoided the majority of the tribe with the exception of your family and dear friend Tsu’tey. He knew of your affections for the Olo’eyktan and despite his indifference to him, he understood your pain. Or at least he tried to.

He also knew the feeling of losing someone he thought was meant to be by his side forever. So for the weeks following he began to slowly coax you out of the confinement of your family tent. Opting to hunt with you at night despite being instructed not to, just so you could avoid the busy crowd of Na’vi.

It became a routine, at first it was a quiet adventure. The two of you only hunting and nothing more. Then when you were both comfortable enough with each other, he began to open up. Despite growing alongside him, he never spoke of her. Sylwanin.

His voice dripped with sadness, guilt even. His words were so gentle they could've been carried away with the wind had you not been paying attention to him. He said he wished he was there, that he would’ve gone with her the day she told him what they were going to do. Burn down RDA equipment.

There was a deep understanding the two of you had, one that never needed to be spoken. You let the other talk, but you never ask questions. So he was annoyed when you did ask, “What about Neytiri, did you begin to grow affections for her?”

His annoyance dimmered when he heard the honesty in your voice, you just genuinely wanted to know of his feelings. “I suppose. In my mind I knew she was not who I initially chose, but she was a part of her. It eased the bitterness.”

You hummed quietly, lugging around one of your catches. “And you? What are you to do now?”

You huffed quietly, if you were being honest your time with Tsu’tey had begun to ease the ache in your heart. So being reminded of the reason why you were brought together caused an uncomfortable feeling to settle into your chest. “Begin looking for a mate I suppose. My Sa’nok has been urging me to start but-I did not think I needed to. I thought I had already found my mate.”

Despite saying what you wanted to say, that your heart had already begun to long for someone else, you opted for a much more diplomatic response. One that protected you from him, and yourself.

Tsu’tey carefully contemplated his words, the nerves in his chest feeling foreign. He was never nervous, at least not when it came to afflictions of the heart. He always just knew, but not with you. You were so reserved when it came to your feelings. “I have been thinking.”

He paused, and it caused a small laugh to leave your throat, “Have you?”

He huffed quietly but a smile tugged on his lips, “That maybe-I can begin to court you.”

You blinked rapidly, tail swishing gently behind you as you looked at him. Tsu’tey’s face was so relaxed, despite the fear in his eyes. Your pause had him wishing Eywa would swallow him whole, his eyes scanning over your face. A small smile tugged on your lips, “I would like that.”

His tail swished in excitement, nodding at you. A small laugh left your throat, “Let us head back? Ma’Sempul will be very angry with you for keeping me out so late.”

His eyes widened slightly, picking up his steps as he headed back to High Camp.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The one condition Tsu’tey had was having you integrate back with the clan. He was well respected and he wished for his mate to be as well. And when you were ready you did, with him by your side. It was easy for the clan to welcome you back, you came from a well respected family so your presence was missed. So when Jake saw you, for the first time in over a year it froze him in place. He had heard from many of the clan members that you had been reappearing, but he had not seen you. Maybe subconsciously he was now the one avoiding you.

He knew he went about everything so wrong, but he did not have the courage to apologize to you. You had also made it very easy on him, for the past months he had not even seen your shadow. So to see you hand in hand with one of his best warriors, one of his closest confidants, had him confused. Tsu’tey had always been by his side, how he had time to grow close to you he had no idea.

But your eyes lit up as you talked animatedly with him, tail swishing as Tsu’tey leaned down to whisper something into your ear. It caused you to laugh so hard your hand flew to your mouth to stop the sound. Jake did not miss the way Tsu’tey was looking at you, like if you held the moon in your hands. An uncomfortable lump formed at his throat as he saw the two of you begin to make your way towards him.

You were fidgeting nervously as Tsu’tey began to approach Jake despite your attempts to just avoid him all together. “He is our Olo’eyktan. We need to inform him we are to mate.”

You sucked in a breath, nodding as you mumbled quietly, “You are right.”

“I always am.”

A laugh ripped from your chest, “Whatever you say, Yawne.”

“JakeSully.”

Tsu’tey greeted him properly, you followed his motions, shifting uncomfortably in Jake’s presence. Jake called your name and your eyes finally met his. The nerves that had bubbled in your chest melted away, as you scanned his face you realized your feelings for him had completely vanished. You sent him a small smile, clinging closer to Tsu’tey, “We are here to tell you we plan to mate before Eywa.”

Jake felt like someone had taken all the air from his lungs, your eyes had shifted from him to Tsu’tey, a sickly sweet gaze littered your features as you looked at him. “Oh-when?”

You spoke up, “Within the next fortnight.”

Jake cleared his throat, his tongue felt heavy as the words slipped off his tongue, “Congratulations to the both of you.”

Tsu’tey smiled down at you, your head fell onto his shoulder as you looked back at Jake, “Thank you, Olo’eyktan.”

That word sounded so strange to his ears, at least coming from you. “We will let you go now.”

You bid him goodbye, tugging Tsu’tey along. Jake stood frozen in place, ears ringing gently as he watched you walk away from him.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

[tunatoge]

OMFG, am I seeing requests open??

Bf gojo satoru. Dressing up gojo, trying makeup on him, putting him pigtails, braids. he's your doll! :D

ahh hehe this is a GREAT idea omg i hope u don’t mind that i did this in a quick headcanon bullet point sorta thing

pairing: g. satoru x reader, fluff

gojo is SUCH a girl’s girl, like he would practically die if you did his makeup. he already owns some small products like concealer and lip gloss and grins sooo big when you ask him what kind of look he’s going for. will do face masks and pore strips, beauty is pain and satoru lives by that shit.

will gossip with you. the two of you are caught up on the drama going down at jujutech, it lowkey scares the students with how much you guys know. the two of you make a whole date out of it, like i’m talking snacks and comfy pjs and a show going on in the background. yall just talk MAD shit too, esp about the higher ups because, “ewww did you see what gakuganji was doing yesterday?” “oh my, god, yeah—and why does he stink so much?”

loves to dress up with you. matches outfits with you whenever you guys go out and loves to carry your bag for you even without you asking. would match outfits with you ANYWHERE, even on the subway. if you just ask, he’ll do it for sure. even makes jokes that you guys are matching at jujutech because, “we’re wearing the same color, we look so cute!”

his hair isn’t the longest ever but he’ll let you do whatever you want with it. he trusts that you’ll fix it after you mess it up. loves it when you put his bangs in a little pony tail at the top of his head because he gets forehead kisses from you.

DEFINITELY trusts you to fix up his undercut. in fact, you’re the ONLY person who gets to fix up his undercut. he is not going near any barber with you around. you nicked him once and you felt so bad and he faked dying just to tease you and you cried. he stopped doing that after.

has asked your if he should grow out his hair because he loves it soo much when you play with it. he tried for a few months and got so annoyed with the awkward phase he had you cut it again. you told him after the entire ordeal you would’ve played with his hair anyway if he’d just asked and he pouted because, “baaaabe… why didn’t you just say that… :(“

[fountainpenguin]

Riddle watches New Wish - Post #28

The Battle of Big Wand

Part 3 of reacting to this episode (spoiler-free)!

They locked the boy who has a darkness phobia in the deep dark pit, ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

omfg, OF COURSE the first thing he does is ask for a drink... Good to know that even 8 years ago, I clocked him as growing up to be a guy who relies on the things that get Fairies drunk (sugar and carbonation) to block out his excessive trauma. oh geez, dude...

How long's he been losing his mind down here? He was fine a few episodes ago in "Growing Pains"! D: He was hanging out at his parents' place!

- Oh, I SO called Peri with magical back-up. He's having a rough go of it... Wowza, he's hallucinating about Dev. That's dark. - I really hope they don't send Foop on a bathroom break or my anxiety is going to spike through the roof. Even if Hazel did use her rule-free wish to revive them, would that be f'd up if they killed Peri and Irep off the way the Grim Reaper told Foop he'd die back in "Man's Worst Friend" or what?

I think ginger ale is good for nausea, which is why Peri's asking for it, but it's still funny because... canonically, he can get drunk if he has enough of that.

I like the rainbow sickness. This feels more correct and enjoyable than the rapid inflation and explosion of the OG series. You can tell Peri is sick and gradually expanding as his magic backs up, but I like that we get to see it, especially since it's set up as death in this universe (rather than easy to recover from in the OG).

I like seeing that Peri is VERY clearly ill and definitely not in a mental or physical place to "push through the pain and escape."

I definitely would say "This is dark," and this loops back to what I said watching "Fearless" and "28 Puddings Later" that A New Wish is definitely a tone shift from the OG. I wouldn't say it's Invader Zim dark, but I think the only episode that gave me vibes this dark was "Channel Chasers" during the scenes that were aiming for "gritty adult action with buff hero characters.

I know Poof and Foop got torn out of reality in "Timmy's Secret Wish," but that's still cute and fluffy to me... lmao.

sldkjfsdklfj, I made a joke during my "Lost in Fairy World" liveblog about how Cosmo and Wanda were going to get ants with all that candy in their room. I know Hazel is lying about ants, but I like it.

Her landlord's hair reminds me of Remy's. that's... a unique style.

/glances tiredly and uneasily at my list of Remy's many runaway uncles who scampered off since they weren't their parents' heir and are still pretty messed up...

I enjoy Wanda comforting her dying son while Cosmo's taking it hard off to the side. Cosmo wanting a moment to himself feels right.

Peri and Irep must not be synced up, presumably because Irep is using magic to grant wishes. Or Anti-Fairies don't get back-up.

There he is~ Anti-Cosmo "literally only here because I was told I might score a godkid" Anti-Cosma. I hate him! (affectionate).

Anti-Wanda looks like she would bite me and I would let her.

Something is so very wrong with Dev "Instead of wishing my lactose intolerance went away, I'm going to delete lactose from the universe" Dimmadome.

I enjoy Irep constantly bouncing or lightly kicking his feet as he waits for Dev to give him new wishes. He definitely gets that from his dad.

Absolutely on the floor that I clocked Anti-Cosmo as hanging back while Irep runs the show with Dev. They've literally not changed and I'm so happy!!!!

I spent over a year worried they were going to reboot A.C. into some take-charge, full-steam-ahead takeover villain, and you're telling me the local confrontation-avoider is still avoiding conflict??

Take me out now; it's never getting better than this. (The sequel.) I'm gonna be riding this high for months.

I was expecting to see Tibecuador on that map, but they cleverly have the Americas on the other side of the globe. I assume that disappeared when Timmy aged out of Fairies, though we know it wasn't unwished after Season 5 (It gets a mention in Season 6).

I like that both Dev and Irep enjoy dancing to "So proud of my son" lyrics. They're vibin'. Irep has daddy issues too.

sdlkfjsd, when Jorgen undid Dev's "king of America" wish a few episodes ago, he didn't erase anyone's minds?? I like that the news refers to Dev as "former king of America."

??? Did Dev and Trev break their friendship after Episode 1 because they both like Bev? That's hilarious!

The news report specifically says "couples are breaking up" due to Anti-Fairy influence, without implying that Anti-Fairies caused these two to get together in the first place. WERE they together? That's silly.

I am once again disappointed we were robbed of the Trev-Dev-Bev friend squad. But this is funny too.

Another waning crescent.

I'mma be honest, but Hazel saying she's had her fairies for about a year just makes me even more confused as to why we're doing a "get a rule-free wish after 1 million" instead of the previously established "get a rule-free wish after 1 year."

I... am gonna un-canonize her 1 million wishes in 'fic unless this ends up being incredibly important. Sorry to keep bringing it up, but I just can't wrap my head around this. "Timmy's Secret Wish" was kind of a big deal. It was a movie and not just a one-off episode, and it's been referenced several times in A New Wish already. Timmy took so much flak for being allegedly wasteful, dangerous, or overly reliant on his wishes. He did make some wild ones, but I'm SO curious to know what Hazel wished for. I wish we'd see flashbacks like we did in that movie, but again... recognizing the limits of a 20-minute episode.

I'm so glad Jasmine told Hazel she wasn't shocked by the reveal that Hazel had fairy godparents, seeing as in Post #10, I said she'd expressed suspicions towards Hazel twice but it didn't seem to be going anywhere and I was disappointed. That's a good callback.

Winn: Your apartment was a hotel and then it wasn't.

That's the other thing I was wondering about! Thanks, Winn. You're my favorite.

It drives me wild that Antony's not going to talk to Hazel about whether she has issues because he doesn't have the context to know fairies get assigned to miserable children. I feel like he'd really want to hear about that.

Antony knows Cosmo and Wanda? Maybe they DID have dinner together. I hope he met Peri. I think they'd be friends. I'll have to look back and see if he was introduced to them by name in "Rattleconda Racers," but... I don't think I noticed he'd clocked them as her neighbors.

They probably crossed paths offscreen while he was home for the holidays. I haven't settled on a timeline yet, but he could've been home for a whole month for winter, so it's likely they've met and he saw Hazel interact with them.

There is something so funny about Winn saying they sussed Cosmo and Wanda out as fairies because of their pink and green hair when they look like this:

I enjoy Hazel being familiar enough with Dev, Cosmo, and Wanda to know their clothes by heart, but she blanked on Irep-

- implication being that she remembered his giant square head and not much else. Not even wings.

Hazel 🤝 Chloe Remembering Foop's hair, mustache, and crown, but forgetting he wears clothes

I'm surprised Hazel's friends are ready to go to war against an entire race of evil magical beings famed for bad luck and torture, and they don't have any questions about this? I feel like one of them would want to talk to their parents. Jasmine said she was a fraidy-cat early on, but I guess facing her fears in "Fearless" turned that around more than I expected.

Oh no, Jorgen's in a pit.

??? If we're in Jorgen's office, where was Peri held before the takeover?

I like how Anti-Cosmo clicks his heels.

New shirt design for Anti-Wanda?? That was on my reboot bucket list! I had my fingers crossed for a fancy dress, sweater, or jacket, but I'll take it! This is clever because it's close to her old design.

... I don't look forward to drawing it :'D

I am OBSESSED with their energy. Anti-Cosmo is so fancy and Anti-Wanda looks like she showed up in pajamas or party clothes. And he loves her so much. That's always been their thing, but it's good to get a reminder since he spends so much of their 1-on-1 time in the OG series screaming and running around. I missed him... It's been 11 years...

... Actually, that makes this my first time ever seeing new (canon) Anti-Cosmo content drop since he was outtie by the time I got to the fandom (back in 2016 when Season 10 was just starting). Exciting!

I actually have an AU called "King Me" that I started in 2016 but have never posted anything for, but it's about Anti-Wanda being raised from birth as the leader of the Anti-Fairies and getting betrothed to some nerd, and seeing them new and shiny and dressed like this makes me want to finish it, because I love Anti-Wanda being in charge when she's so casual and silly. It's one of my favorites <3

omg, it's an anti-Fairy shirt... OH, this makes the fact I portray Anti-Wanda as giggly over puns and wordplay even better...

Anti-Wanda shopping, pointing at the crossed-out crown: It's me.

I like how while Anti-Cosmo is bragging that Anti-Fairies are masters of torture who know all their counterparts' weaknesses, Cosmo looks like this:

Anti-Cosmo: I'm a master of torture... I know your biggest weakness~ Cosmo: I don't believe you for a second, but go off I guess

Irep knew exactly what he was doing when he sent Peri to the dark pit... u can't make me believe it was an accident he was hyperventilating and rocking back and forth with crossed eyes when Cosmo and Wanda got to him...

Wheezing at the fact that I'm pretty sure neither A.C. nor Anti-Wanda has been addressed by name because the writers gave us Irep and Lezah... They can't drop the anti-names on us and don't want to call them Omsoc and Adnaw.

I DID wonder where that set-up was going, but I think their names not being not acknowledged at all is the funniest direction.

Like?? POV, New Wish is your only exposure to Anti-Cosmo and Anti-Wanda, but you don't engage with the fandom so you sus out for yourself what their backwards names would be and that's how you grow up thinking of them.

I personally have Anti-Fairy kids using names picked by their parents and they only switch to using their anti-names when they become adults, so... if we were to assume Irep is just slightly too young to use the name Anti-Peri, that headcanon would still track in New Wish for him and Lezah. Which is interesting.

..... If Peri is short for Periwinkle, is Irep's full name Elkniwirep, because ouch. I understand where he was coming from when he complained his new name was "much more difficult to pronounce" than Foop.

I like the implication that Anti-Fairy nicknames would come from the end of their names rather than the beginning. Though looking at that name, I think Noir would also be an appropriate nickname for him.

Irep when he has to sign for a package for his parents: Eh, you can come back next week.

Anti-Cosmo's clothes are spot-on. It's him!! ... Except for his monocle being on the wrong side. I personally made him blind in one eye in 'fics, but I'm pretty sure a real monocle can be used on either eye.

It's kind of funny to me they did that. It must be easier to model this way, but the OG series never depicted him switching to the other eye even when he turned his head. Kind of interesting in an "I wonder if modern fanart will portray it interchangeably or if the right eye is deemed consistent" kind of way.

!!!! They kept his big ol' giant fangs!!! Irep definitely gets most of his personality from his mom, but he's got Dad's fangs <3

This makes me want to practice drawing him more. A.C. is the hardest for me to draw (between his clothes, hat, hair, and having bat-like ears in Cloudlands AU), but I really like his cravat here and would like to take another whack at him, I think.

skldjf, I'm glad Anti-Cosmo is still Mr. "super weird about needing to hold things in his left hand." Nobody cares, but I care

In the OG show, he threw his wand off-screen so he could switch his teacup to his left hand after picking it up... He does this in multiple episodes, shifting things to his left for no reason even if he picks them up in his right. I'm sure it means nothing, but... why did they draw him doing that? He keeps his wineglass on his left despite Anti-Wanda being depicted with hers on her right... Sometimes he'll even stand next to other characters and hold an item in his left even though his neighbor is holding the same item in their right. why.

?? Anti-Cosmo had to look up "discombobulated" in the dictionary? Wouldn't the taunting have been stronger to prove he doesn't have to look it up?

I like Anti-Cosmo bracing his legs beneath the dictionary the same way Peri did when he was looking at Da Rules.

Heavy book; need better weight distribution or it's killer on the back.

sdfkljsd... oh, poor Cosmo... Listen..... LISTEN........ I know there's no way in heck they would bring back the "77 Secrets of the Fairly OddParents (Revealed)" lore that Cosmo's deepest secret is that he's an "author of distinction" who's written oodles of books, including Astrophysics for Morons from the episode "Shelf Life," but...

This is SO MEAN... I have a 'fic ("Repeat") where we learn Cosmo's been erasing his own memories for ages because people wanted him in jail or worse for writing about astrophysics when Fairy culture pushes the idea that stars are ancient Fairies (à la "Wishology") and this is how he's protecting himself. My interpretation of him is that he gets upset sometimes because "He used to know what these words mean," like... that is an actual scene I've written, and I'm dying...

Corporate needs you to find the difference between these scenes... lmao.

"We knew it wouldn't be easy, not following the old beliefs… but we're on enough thin ice with the Fairy Council as it is. Let's… not tip the scales by making wild claims about the stars. But if it's any consolation… You can tell me about astrophysics any time of week." "Mm…" He didn't even know what 'consolation' meant. He did once, though… Didn't he? When he read his old diaries, they made no sense because he used to know so many words. His handwriting. His memories. But not all the words made sense anymore. Robin Cosma would be so disappointed in his son. How funny that your father can be a poet known across the cloudlands… and you can't remember how to spell "tinnitus."

Anti-Cosmo, you are being SO mean in my lore right now... Thanks, I hate it. But I like that physical torture wasn't the option they went for. This feels very right to me (Mental torments, preying on fears and paranoia instead of just attacking... This feels right for their species since they're supposed to be dark and creepy).

-> I mean, I don't know what I expected from Anti-Cosmo "avoids confrontation if he might get hurt" Anti-Cosma, but... lol.

SKLDFJSLDFJSLDFJ??

Anti-Wanda: /shoves A.C. out of the way and takes his book Anti-Cosmo: :(

If Anti-Cosmo has to confront anyone while he's in slapping range, he will die, actually. Wait, what did I write at the start of this liveblog?

OG series Anti-Cosmo doesn't even want to take over Fairy World; he wants a godkid. His shtick is "I will literally do anything for a godkid even if it's stupid and I make a fool of myself." And then he makes a fool of himself; it's great. [...] Taking over means confronting magical people, and Anti-Cosmo doesn't, like... do that. He taunts people IF he holds a blatant advantage (like them being locked up or them being a human who can't jump and grab him), but he's also a huge coward <3 He's Mr. Buddy System. He needs his Anti-Fairies. So... He might be here, yeah! But I do get major Irep vibes. Irep's totally leading, and I don't see Anti-Cosmo's aesthetic here, so I think he's playing a small supporting role if he's here at all. [...] He DOES have smug energy and cool lines sometimes… but he's also a tantrum-throwing brat who's scared to stand up to people, and in this house, we love him for it!! [...] I just want Anti-Cosmo to be an awkward nerd pretending to be confident, but also he likes to run around and goof off, but he should also look at people like he's confused they kicked his puppy.

sdlkfjsfdjkl??? oh my fluffin' gee. This is beat for beat "Anti-Cosmo taunting people when he's trapped them under a butterfly net in "Fairly Odd Baby" and then backing the heck down as soon as H.P. tells him "Yeah, we're not doing that." ... This is the same energy as Jorgen's slideshow when he specifically labels H.P., not Anti-Cosmo, the more influential parent of the anti-fairy child they raised to be evil way back when... He's the same person... He's such a sheep <3

I was so worried they'd change you, my doormat nephew, and for WHAT?!! Go king; give us nothing!!!

They didn't give him oodles of sass? That's what I thought for SURE they'd reboot him with. I'm losing it. He really is "just there doing his best" without being the main villain. He's minimally helpful. Basically not at all. I can finally embrace him without a hint of hesitation... My windblown tissue of a boy has come home!!

This is the best! spitting, crying. I cannot believe this. I can finally stop second-guessing if I even read him right in the OG series. He's so cringefail loserboy and always has been and I can finally stop lying low about it! I LOVE HIM!!

I genuinely could not fathom a world where they brought him back and he was still just Like That... How ?? did they do this?? I was so SURE they'd put him in charge and only present his "smug, confident" façade and I'd just shrug it off and try to squint for the parts of him I enjoy the most… omfg… Our anxious, dorky coward actually made the jump?

He's like Anatole Kuragin... Anti-Cosmo would be flawless in the role of "Okay, sing these two songs like you're the sexiest and most confident man alive. And for this other song, cower on the floor wailing about how you're a man of honor and the old man calling you a scoundrel should take it back because it hurts your feelings. You just tried to kidnap the girl you like, but got spooked and ran away. btw, you're everyone's most specialist boy in the world."

The Natasha, Pierre, & the Great Comet of 1812 AU nobody asked for but we know we deserve:

btw, after years of waiting, I had the opportunity to see this musical (<3) and words cannot express how I felt when - after listening to the soundtrack and always wondering why Anatole backs off so fast when Marya shoos him from the courtyard - I got to experience the shock of Marya bursting onstage with a gun.

I am in such shock that I read Anti-Cosmo right. Like ?? I don't know why that's bizarre to me- I've taken so many notes on him and I was very confident in what I thought about him. I just ?? can't believe he's still set up to be a soggy dishrag?

No one ??? ever portrays him like this ?? We don't do that here! That's not on his Fandom Wiki page, which calls him a "ruthless criminal mastermind" and "far more devious than most other villains in the show." People don't remember him like this... I'm dreaming...

I gotta lie down. What the FLIP do they have written for him in the story bible, if anything?

-> I gotta read the OG series story bible @zachbrightside sent me. I've been putting it off 'til after New Wish, but maybe I'll liveblog my reactions to that too.

-> Fun fact, I collect story bibles due to my days of combing Scribd for early scripts... But the OG series story bible for FOP is one I never thought I'd see in my LIFE. I'm excited.

Okay, I totally got impatient and took a sneak peak at the New Wish story bible for fun (something I glimpsed super briefly about a year and a half ago and then put away because I wanted to wait and see the show for myself, so I didn't see more than a glimpse of Hazel, Winn, and Whispers Fred, but I don't want to look at the OG series bible until I'm properly liveblogging). AND!!!!

Guess who didn't misremember the rumor about the Pixies coming back! I'll talk about that more in a separate liveblog, I'm sure, but oh gosh; oh goodness...

They didn't reboot Anti-Cosmo with sass AND they have a note here about the Pixies "potentially aligning their interests with tech magnate Dale Dimmadome..." Do you understand how close that gets us to H.P. coming back as his sassy, in-charge self... My most beloved character in the series, still snarky... I want him so much... I can taste it... He's one chump door away...

I won't get my hopes up since Season 2 isn't confirmed, but do u understand... Yes I know they might kill him and replace him with Sanderson and it'd shatter me, but do u understand how close we are to the funky guy who's haunted my mind every day for the last nearly 9 years...

Dale, I have GREAT NEWS for you... The prophecy... H.P. and Dale together... My 7-year dream fulfilled at last...

what are Ben Stein's rates and can we get him for another movie. I think Pixies & Dale would be the thing that does me in; it's never getting better than that... Can you even IMAGINE if we had Musical 2.0. for some inexplicable reason...... My favorite episode, oh goodness... Just let H.P. dunk on Anti-Cosmo again and I'm done; I'm out. retired. deceased.

It's SO over for y'all if they do bring back the Pixies. Unfollow me then because it's all I'll talk about for the rest of my life.

Hey wait a sec- I'VE BEEN ROBBED!!!! They WERE supposed to be here! Dale WAS supposed to be the finale antagonist!

?? I was RIGHT in my initial assumption that Dale had been set up for this plot. I'm totally justified for going into this finale thinking we were gonna fight Dale. That's... way funny, because I have a whole note over here I was gonna address when I'm done watching about how I don't feel like Dale stalking Hazel and all those notes about Fairy World left on his board even went anywhere...

Did they drop the "Dale stalking Hazel" plot point & this Pixie route because they figured Anti-Fairies would bait viewers in and Pixies wouldn't? So, like... did we only have that scene to upset Dev, and now we're not following through with the implications? :'D I am dev-astated on both accounts...

I probably would've done the same thing in their position (Write the finale for Anti-Fairies instead) because the Pixies aren't as well known (I think) and don't have the same opposite vibe as counterparts (which makes for dramatic storytelling), and maybe increased excited viewers increases chance of Season 2, but...

I've been robbed blind!! D: OH, this hurts so much more than when it was "just a rumor" to me that the Pixies were meant to appear "in the latter half of the season." skdljf, I shouldn't have looked at this; what've I done... PLEASE give us a Season 2 with Pixies in it... I'm beggin'... I've seen behind the curtain and I cannot be reborn in my innocence.

- Extremely funny to me that the Pixies not showing up implies they're not making a move because it hasn't been 37 years since their last big takeover plan. It's the OCD... - HEY WAIT A MINUTE, back at the start, I told y'all taking over Fairy World wasn't Anti-Cosmo's thing and it was actually H.P.'s... oh, this is FUNNY... I wish I had someone I could rub this in the face of. Oh my feathers, I'm SO glad I know H.P. and Anti-Cosmo well enough that I nailed them both like butterflies on display and didn't make a fool of myself [in my mind], sldkfj... #Not a fake fan... You don't spend 8 years writing 1 million words worth of 'fics about each of them without knowing your boys!!! I'm sorry, I just... This has been extremely funny to liveblog. I didn't peek ahead... I didn't know for sure if Anti-Cosmo was gonna be here to take over Fairy World - I really thought they'd reboot him to be confident and suave because why would they read him as an anxious coward?? nobody does that - but I sure as heck knew an Anti-Cosmo based closely on the OG wouldn't be leading the charge! He's a pushover <3 And the fact the Pixies were supposed to be here is KILLING me. Of course it was a plot meant for Pixies... because Anti-Cosmo doesn't do this and H.P. does. That's SO funny... I can't believe this... I'm dying, squirtle... I can't breathe... Please let me infodump about how despite everything I've said about H.P. going against the Pixie stereotype, he is actually implied to have OCD, and by his own admittance seems to want to take over Fairy World because Fairy World's disorder just drives him up a wall... I miss him... I lied about loving Anti-Cosmo; please come back, beloved... Please send him on a time travel vacation so he can come back feeling like he waited his obsessive 37 years... oh my glory, he's within my grasp... It's been 16 years... - The file name on this thing is "FOP Reboot Series Bible Draft 7..." oh, my boys lived up to 7 drafts... oh, my babies...

Oh my GOSH, they pitched an episode where Hazel's parents come over for dinner game night and Cosmo and Wanda are struggling to appear normal... That's the exact kind of episode I was sad we hadn't had yet back when I was saying post-Episode 1 Cosmo and Wanda were giving me sexy lamp vibes! I'm sad we didn't get this one.

Okay... I've seen too much. I won't read anything else in here and I'll save it for a future arc of liveblogging all these resources. Oh, this stings. The finale's cool and all, but I just miss my boys so much, and I want them to come back as their glorious, snarky, finger-gunning, drunk-on-the-job selves so a new generation can fall in love with them like I have, and they are SO CLOSE...... D: Nobody knows the trouble I've seen... nobody knows my

Ooh, what?

Big Daddy!? Mark Chang? Mama Cosma? Juandissimo?? omg-

IRVING?? They found you too?

No one is safe...

[myblogforeverandalways]

𝘊𝘖𝘋 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵- 𝘎𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵

Hiya pretty! tysm for the likes on the last post, the repost, and the follow omfg(ilysm)...I was so surprised when I checked. Thank you so so much. Anyway, here's a second part of my fanfiction. Love ya. xx

Part of my Ghost fanfic on Wattpad <33 (Fr1edC0rp) <- if you wanna find me there love :)

his thumb teasing your lower lip. Fuck he was getting hard just by looking at those needy eyes, waiting, waiting for him to do anything without any consequences. He'd tried to keep his composure for you, but you weren't making it any easier.

You would grow flustered, noting as Ghost's breath grew deeper from his arousal. He would brush strands of hair back, memorising your features for his pleasures later. He'd remove his thumb from your lip, watching as you'd palm his crotch with dirty intent. He never took you for a girl who was this confident, but it only caused his erection to grow, begging to be let out as your hand caressed him through his cargo—causing Ghost to let out a low grunt in pleasure and lustrous pain.

"I never took you as a needy girl, " he teased, starting to unbuckle his belt, trying to stay quiet regarding how late it was.

"I'm sorry, I can't help it.." You're words trailed off as Ghost sighed, revealing his hard length, jerking it slowly.

"Damn right you can't, princess"

Ghost's voice dripped with possessiveness as he played with himself in the amides of your needy gaze. Your pussy throbbing more, almost becoming too painful to endure any longer. He'd smirk his hand, teasing those plump lips.

You wanted him to use you until you were swollen with his warm cum. Tripping over yourself after he takes the ability to use your legs with ease. A sweet fantasy that you feared would be true from his prominent jerks, his pre-cum leaking from the tip as his cock twitched for your lips. You'd lick Ghost's cum, suckling softly on the tip as he bucked his hips, moaning softly. You never realised how sensitive he was until now, his hand resting at the back of your head, holding your hair up.

Your head would lower in submission to Ghost's cock, reaching down it slowly as you'd try to take all of it. Your mouth would try to resist, warning you as your head went lower, his dick reaching the back of your throat.

"Fucking hell." Ghost murmured, pressing your head down, testing how far you could really go, Your tongue tracing along his veiny cock.

You whimpered, your body protesting against him as you moved your head back up, coughing slightly. Your tongue left a trail of saliva right back to Ghost's dick, almost like a leash showing who you belonged to. Ghost didn't take no for an answer; however, watching as you went right back to his length, it was as if it was something you had craved since he walked into that clinic, waiting to be cared for by your soft, tender hands. Ones that trembled as if they had never touched a man so intimately.

And Goddamn, did that turn him on even more.

"Good girl, taking my cock so well", He praised, leaning back in the clinic chair. The sounds of your whimpers are like a melody he could never get tired of.

"Oh? You want everyone to hear?" Ghost smirked, jerking his cock into your mouth, enhancing those whimpers even more.

He would softly groan as you sucked harder, almost in revenge for his countless teasing. But he didn't complain, your mouth working him to a climax quicker than he expected. Ghost held your hair tighter as you lubed his cock up with your saliva, dripping onto your uniform as well as his pre cum from before. You'd rock your head back and forth, holding gaze with his eyes that would shut in pure ecstasy, a low groan escaping his lips. His load piling into your mouth.

Ghost pinched your cheeks softly, your tongue rolling out to show the mess they made.

"God, you're so perfect", He muttered, panting softly. "Swallow that for me, princess."

istg if you made it this farrr. Tysm. I am so happy you found some sort of interest in this :)

[artificialbreezy]

Omg dad Noah is the cutest but could you imagine him being so much more protective of his pregnant partner

i feel like Noah is just protective of the ones he loves period but when he sees the little plus sign on that stick it’s like something changes in him. he takes you EVERYWHERE. your midwife will be on the tour with you because god forbid anything happen to you. you guys find out when he’s on tour, your standing in a random hotel bathroom in New York and your pacing bc you’re so worried it’s gonna fuck up his career but Noah is anxiously waiting bc he wants his to be positive so bad. he hasn’t told you but he’s been thinking about this for months now. he hears the timer go off and looks at you and says “you wanna check it or do you want me too?” and you just kinda shrug and he checks it and his eyes immediately water and your stomach drops straight to your ass because you think he’s gonna leave and he looks at you with the happiest eyes and biggest smile, “baby, we’re gonna be parents!” and you’re like “wait. you’re not mad?” and he’s like “oh my god no. i’m so excited. we’re gonna have a little us running around before we know it.” and he’s immediately making plans for you to move in so he can watch you because he refuses to leave you alone. he’s gotta keep an eye on you. he makes sure you take your prenatal every morning, if you want any sort of take out he’s on his way to get it, when you show any sign of pain or discomfort he’s immediately asking “what’s wrong? do we need to go to the hospital? how can i help? baby why don’t you sit down?” and you’re like “noah i’m fine it’s okay, im growing a whole ass human inside my stomach. my guts have moved to make room for your baby-“ he’d interrupt you so fast, “our baby.” and you’d just smile and sit down like he said so he’d calm down. now he can’t keep his eyes on you 100% of the time. like when he’s on stage. but he’s also worried about the loudness of the venue being too much for your little ole body to handle now that your 7 months pregnant, so he makes you sit in the back with Davis. he’ll run back to the room during song breaks to check on you. he’s totally missed his cue a couple times because he got caught up feeling his baby kick. when he got back to the stage, he’d announce “sorry guys my girlfriend’s here and our baby was kicking like crazy and she never lets me feel her kick so i HAD too”. If noah has an interview he’s texting you the whole time and he’s making Jolly, Folio, and Nick keep their EYE on you. and he knows you wouldn’t tell him if something was up because he’s busy so he’s message the band group chat asking for the opinions on how you are and it’s always. she just has lunch or she’s sitting on the couch. it brings him ease knowing his family is keeping you safe when he can’t. bro and when you go into labor? he is your voice, your advocate. you guys talked so much about your birth plan (he wrote it all down so it would go according to plan) and when the hospital (if the hospital) is being picky he shuts it down FAST. “we are doing this the way she wants. no ands, ifs, or buts about it. the only reason we’re stepping outside of this plan is if it’s life or death”. he definitely would talk you through the pushing, he’d hold your hand, kiss your forehead. it broke his heart seeing you crying because of the pain but he knew you’d be okay. when he heard the cries of his little baby, the man wouldn’t be able to hold back his tears. he’d look at you, tears streaming down his face, “you did it mama.”

i got so carried away with this omfg

[konigsblog]

omfg PLEASE a dbf!simon drabble but with cnc only if you’re comfy with it!!!! i love your acct so much ❤️❤️

thank you! i'm glad you appreciate my blog :)

tw: cnc/rape, intoxication, alcohol use. 🩸

you were at a very busy bar, with loud voices and the sounds of laughter in the background, one that was growing in popularity in your area. some friends said you were drinking far too much—that you would eventually get pass out if you weren't careful—while the others encouraged you to let loose and drink your heart away—or your liver...

everything felt fuzzy, you felt free and at ease. you giggled at your friend's jokes, making a few of your own before taking a big swig of your beer. your eyelids heavy and your jaw becoming slack, excusing yourself for the night and heading home.

despite what your friends said, you walked home, alone and drunk. type of stuff that's reported in the news when drunk women walk home alone would never ever happen to you, right? until a tall, looming and burly man blocked your path, bringing his fist to the side of your head and knocking you out cold.

the man threw your limp body over his shoulder, gripping your ass tightly, his huge boner causing a bulge to form in his jeans. he opened the backseat car door, throwing you inside before climbing in with you. it was cramped, hot and steamy, especially with the man's burly body taking up majority of the space. you switched from consciousness and unconsciousness, lightheaded and breathless, seeing the man's facial features before passing out once again.

the man grinded his bulbous, huge heat over your wet slit, spitting on his hand and rubbing your hole messily before easing inside. he panted heavily, grunting at the tightness of your pussy as he thrusted into you. the man was too large to fight off, leaving you vulnerable and weak as the man continued to take advantage of this situation and rape you until you were limp and bleeding. the drops of crimson spreading onto his shaft, coating him in your fluids.

he could even smell the alcohol off of you, the smoke on your hands and lips. it's why he chose you. his fat, heavy balls smacked against your ass, causing pain to spread down your thighs, bruising your ass due to his erratic and rough pace.

you were shaking when you woke up, in the middle of a field without any panties on. crusted cum and blood on your thighs and your head pounding due to your throbbing hangover.

you only recognised the man to be your dad's best friend when he came over one night after being invited, the stature and facial features familiar... :( 🎀

[mypoisonedvine]

92;"no, don't cry-- if you start crying, I'll start crying!" With Darren x shy reader while he's groping them when reader thought they were just gonna watch a movie together.

-❄

I love how you sensed the dark potential of that prompt omfg!! it sounds cute but I hoped someone would make it a little evil hehe

warnings: dark noncon smut (obviously; 18+ only), painful sex (implied virginity loss but it's not specific), dacryphilia, innocent reader, pig being disturbing and creepy as per usual

100 random prompts - send me a number and a character!

"Shh, shh, just watch t'movie," he cooed in your ear when you tried to protest; you whimpered and tried to adjust your hips away from his-- you hadn't minded the spooning at first, until he had started to rub his growing erection against you.

"P-Pig, what are you--?" you started to ask, his hands holding tight onto your hips so you couldn't get away.

"Aren't you payin' any attention?" he scolded. "This is the best part, love, just watch."

You kept your eyes on the screen as best you could, but your gaze kept drifting to his hands, especially when they moved up to slide under your shirt. He hissed in your ear before you could even think about asking him to stop, and you shut your eyes tight as he began to palm at your tits, groping them a little too roughly.

"I know, love," he whispered, his voice dark and low as he touched and rubbed himself against you more urgently. "Don't be sad, s'just a movie," he soothed.

He started to kiss your neck, breathing heavy as he reached down to push his pants out of the way-- and he was rubbing his cock against your shorts, a drop of precum staining the fabric darker. He groaned something under his breath about your tits, about how soft you were, but you tried to focus on the movie dialogue instead.

Your eyes shot wide open, though, when his hand left your breasts to hook into your shorts, pulling them and your panties down to expose yourself more to him.

"D-don't, Pig," you pleaded as he pushed one of your legs up, guiding his cock's fat head between your lips.

"But you're so wet, love," he noticed with a small laugh. "Piggy touchin' your tits made you get like that, yeah? Want something big inside?"

He pushed himself forward into your heat, making you gasp and shudder at the stretch. "S-stop," you begged, reaching back to push against his hips, but he was so much stronger than you it was completely useless. "Stop, it hurts!" you choked, tears welling in your eyes as his cock tore deeper into you.

He moaned, breaking his gaze away from where he was entering you to look up at your face-- and pouted along with you, as if mocking your pain, before slamming himself the rest of the way in.

You cried out and held tightly onto the couch under you, wincing each time he thrusted into you: he was moving so fast already, not holding himself back at all, desperate to bury himself over and over in your heat. "Pig, please," you sobbed, crying harder as he bit down on your shoulder to shut you up.

"Don't cry," he ordered, just a hint of fake sweetness to his voice-- his hand came up to wipe a tear off your cheek. "No, don't cry, love-- if you start crying, I'll start crying-- it's the sad part of t'movie."

You had already forgotten entirely that there was still a movie playing. A break-up scene, it seemed like, but that was the least of your concerns now.

"I know it's sad right now," he soothed as he held onto your hips tight and forced himself as deep as he could go, until a pained groan crawled out of your throat, "but don't worry, it's almost over."

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Soooo I know you don’t write aged up Netayam but what about maybe Neteyam’s (18+) girlfriend that he just broke up with and Jake can finally make his move on her after longing for her? I love a “your dad will do” scenario ❤️

NONNIE OMFG YOU GOT ME PURRING

THE WAY I JUST LOVE THIS IDEA—

-----

Jake feels for his son. He truly, truly does. He knows that it can't be easy for Neteyam to handle the break up since he clearly liked you so much. But part of Jake is just too human. Too selfish, too greedy, too opportunistic to let the chance slip away.

He's had his eye on you for a while. Before Neteyam did. He's had a thing for you, a young, naive girl only in her early twenties. He just never brought himself to doing anything about it.

And then, when you and Neteyam had gotten together, Jake had been a little resented, a little upset, but he knew there was nothing left to do.

But now...

You and Neteyam had broken up. It was over. Jake was free to make a move on you.

He finds you deep in the forest, simply spending your time surrounded by the peaceful atmosphere of the nature around you.

When you hear him approach, you turn to look at him, eyes growing wide. You spring to your feet, tail swishing nervously as you greet, “Mr. Sully.” You sign I See you and ask, “How can I help you?”

Jake chuckles softly. “Relax, kid. I'm not here for anything. Just wanna talk.”

You sit down, nodding, looking anxious. He sits beside you, his amber eyes watching you closely.

“Is this about Neteyam?” you question quietly.

“If you want it to be,” he responds easily.

You nod gently. “I'm sorry if I've caused him pain, or-or anger or anything like that,” you start. “I just...I couldn't be with him anymore.”

“Okay.”

You swallow, your nerves getting the best of you. You can't believe you're about to do this, can't believe how bold you are.

You can't help it. You really can't. You'd liked Neteyam, truly, but as time wore on, you realized that Jake caught your attention more than his son did. Somewhere along your relationship, you ended up preferring Jake over Neteyam. And no matter how bad you tried to pretend that Neteyam was Jake, it just didn't cut it for you.

“Mr. Sully, I...I became attracted to someone else while I was with your son,” you admit, your ears folding back against your head. “That's why I couldn't be with him.”

After a moment of silence, Jake places his huge hand on your thigh, his fingers tracing the soft stripes on your flesh. Goosebumps form on your skin and you shudder gently. Jake smirks slightly.

“You know you can tell me anything, kid,” he says. “You can trust me. It's okay.”

You swallow down your nerves. “Mr. Sully, I—”

“Jake, kid,” he corrects. “You can just call me Jake.”

You can feel yourself blushing slightly. “Jake, I...” You take a deep breath to steady yourself. “I left Neteyam because I...I prefer you.”

Your eyes dart away from his, staring at your lap. Your heart is racing in your chest, your ears ringing. You feel a little nauseous and you're trembling slightly.

Jake raises an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised, and his tail swishes behind him, excited. “Me?” he asks, grinning cockily. You've just boosted his already-inflated ego, and you've gotten him in the mood to tease you.

You nod, shy. “I guess I just...felt more attracted to you than to your son, and I knew I couldn't be with him.”

He grabs your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye. “Neteyam wasn't enough for you, angel?”

You try to read the expression in his eyes, but it's impossible. You shake your head, biting your lower lip, uneasy.

He chuckles. “You just needed an older man, hm? Little miss daddy issues, yeah?”

You blush, feeling a little embarrassed and a little foolish, but say nothing.

Jake keeps pushing it. “You just want someone to take care of you, don't you, honey?” he coos, pulling you to him, encouraging you onto his lap. “Just want someone t'guide you and protect you, hm?”

You place your hands on his shoulders, your eyes wide, your heart racing. Jake's gaze is thick and predatory. It sends shivers through you and makes you shudder on top of him.

His cock twitches, springing to attention, and you gasp quietly when you feel it poke between your thighs.

Jake smiles. “Y'see what y'do to me, girl?” He inches his lips toward your neck, his mouth ghosting your skin as he says, “You feel how bad I want you?”

You nod gently. “I do,” you say quietly.

“You think you can fix it?” he questions. “Help me out, yeah?”

You swallow, nervous. “Okay.”

Jake kisses your neck, dragging his teeth over your pulse. “Did Neteyam ever teach you that?” he asks. “He teach you to help out with a hard-on?”

Your mouth runs dry, your pussy growing wet. “N-no, sir.”

Jake groans lowly. On top of the fact that he's stealing you from his son, he's going to corrupt you. Jesus, he's a horrible fucking influence. And yet, he can't keep himself away from you. He knows he should. He just can't.

Jake lifts you to your feet before standing in front of you. He towers over you, dwarfing you. He's enormous, broad chested, tall, and the sensation of him being so much larger has your tail swinging side to side, delighted.

“Get on your knees, sweetheart,” he says, and you're quick to obey. He grabs your chin in one of his hands, crudely running his thumb over your lower lip. He pulls it down before releasing it, his eyes trained on the soft flesh. He slides his thumb into your mouth, and you open up. He presses the digit down on your tongue and you just look up at him, eyes big and innocent, curious as they watch him.

He smiles down at you. “You gonna be a good girl for me?” he questions, pulling his thumb out of your mouth.

“Yes, sir,” you reply. You can feel a heat spreading between your legs, growing wet and slick.

He undoes his loincloth, his eyes never leaving yours. When he discards the item to the ground, your gaze falls to his cock. Your eyes almost glow at the sight. He's long and thick, a prominent vein running up his underside. The tip is a dark blue, precum glistening on the head.

“Can I...can I touch it?” you question, glancing up at him.

“Go ahead,” Jake says.

You run your fingers over his length, tracing the vein, and he groans softly. You wrap your hand around him, softly jerking him, watching his reaction.

Jake's ears fold back to his head, his eyes darkening with lust. He licks his lips as he watches you lean in, your pretty puppy eyes looking at him when you kiss the tip. He hisses lowly.

You lead the head of his cock over your lips, smearing his precum on your mouth before allowing him inside. Your tongue rubs against his underside, the wet cavern of your mouth making him twitch. You bob you head, trying to fit all of him down your throat.

You gag, making him groan. “'s it too big, love?”

“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head softly. You take him deeper, the head of his cock meeting the back of your throat, and you gag again. But it doesn't stop you.

One of Jake's enormous hands grabs onto your head, fingers tangling in your hair. “Such a good girl, hm?”

Your eyes meet his, shining with delight from his praise, and he chuckles. He's got you wrapped around his finger, and you don't even know it.

You move your hand to his balls, swollen and heavy, and you caress them carefully.

Jake groans, “Fuck, angel. You're gonna make me jizz all over you before I even stick it inside you.”

You pull away, releasing him from your heavenly mouth. “Inside?” you echo, your eyes studying his.

He smiles gently. “C'mere.” He helps you to your feet, one of his hands sneaking under your loincloth and caressing your sopping folds.

Your eyes widen, ears folding back as a little gasp leaves you.

“If y'want, I'll put my cock in here,” he tells you, sliding a finger into your pussy, your gummy walls warm and tight around his digit.

You grab onto his arms, nails digging into the muscles under his skin. “Please,” you whine. “Sir, please. I-I want you to put it inside.”

Jake kisses the top of your head softly. He pulls his finger out of you and leads you to the ground, lying you down before him. He spreads your legs, your feet planted on the ground, and his eyes watch your pussy.

He spreads your folds apart with his fingers, eyes growing hungry at the sight of your soaked, needy cunt. He wants nothing more than to just fuck you, but he doesn't want to hurt you.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks. “There's nothing wrong if you don't.”

“I need you,” you reply. “Need you inside. Please, sir.”

Jake shudders. He positions himself between your thighs, running the thick tip of his cock against your soft folds. “Deep breath, kid,” he says softly.

You obey and he sinks into you, his cock meeting no resistance from your pussy as you stretch to fit him. You gasp, eyes fluttering shut, hips jolting.

When he's fully inside of you, Jake asks, “You okay, sweetheart?”

You nod, nails digging into the soft soil below.

“Say it,” he orders, voice stern.

“I'm okay, sir,” you reply, chest heaving up and down with your hurried breaths. You roll your hips up, searching for more friction, and Jake chuckles softly.

He thrusts into you gently, his eyes never leaving your face as he watches you for any signs of discomfort. Your eyes are shut tight, lips parted in a silent 'o' and you're sinking your nails into the dirt.

“'s that good, hon?” he questions, his enormous hands holding onto your thighs, fingers kneading into your flesh.

“Yes,” you whimper, chest heaving, pussy dripping. “'s so good, sir.”

He smirks down at you before training his eyes on your cunt. He watches as his thick cock forces you open, coated in your slick, his heavy balls pressing against your folds.

“Look at this pretty pussy,” he says, voice rough. “Look at how well you take me, girl.”

“Mhmm,” you manage, feeling something hot and dizzying building up in your womb.

“God, who else could fuck you like this, hm? Who else could turn you into this much of a slut?”

“N-no one,” you gasp. “Only you.”

“Goddamn right, only me,” he chuckles. “You're mine, you hear me? Mine to fuck, hm?”

You nod, eyes rolling into the back of your head. The pleasure is crawling through your veins, brushing over every single nerve, sending shudders through you.

He slaps your thigh. “Say it.”

“'m yours!” you reply, mewling. “All yours, sir.”

He smiles, raising one of your legs over his shoulder, allowing him to sink deeper into you, the head of his cock pressing against your cervix.

You whimper at the new angle, gasping as he touches a spongy spot within you that has your hips jerking.

“Sir!” you cry, body trembling with ecstasy. “Fuck! Oh, sir, please! 's too much!”

Jake chuckles quietly. “Relax, kid. You can take it,” he assures you. “You're doing great.”

You feel like you're going to burst, the coil within you growing taut, making you see stars. “I can't!” you cry. “I-I'm gonna—”

“I know you're gonna,” he laughs. “That's the idea, kid.”

“It feels like too much!” you mewl. “Sir, please, I-I can't 'nymore! Fuck!”

“Breathe,” Jake chuckles. “You're gonna be fine. You trust me, don't you?”

You nod. “I-I do, but—”

Jake bites your calf, making you whine. “No buts, kid. If you trust me, you're gonna let me do what I wanna do t'you, hm?”

You shudder, thighs quaking. “Okay,” you manage. “Okay, sir.”

“That's better,” Jake says, increasing his pace, sending sparks through your veins. His hips slam into yours, the sound echoing in the forest. You mewl and whine, back arching, ears folding back.

“Sir,” you whine, feeling that coil get ready to snap. “Sir! Fuck!”

And suddenly the pleasure explodes in your womb, your mind going blank, your body shaking as you cry out. You've never felt anything like this before, nothing this intense or overwhelming. You shudder, stars dancing behind your eyelids, your sharp canines digging into your lower lip as you try to quiet yourself. But the sound slither out of your mouth, making you whine and moan, pathetic.

“There ya go,” Jake tells you, feeling your slick gushing out of you and coating his cock, allowing him to slip in and out with more ease. “I told you you could do it, kid.”

For a moment, you're left feeling nothing. You're fucked dumb, fucked senseless. But after a while, Jake is still pounding into you, sending shivers of pleasure up your spine.

“Sir,” you gasp. “Sir, please, 's too much. I can't do it this time!”

“Yes, you can,” he promises, hissing softly as he feels his own orgasm growing near. “You're gonna come one more time for me, angel.”

“Oh, fuck! Sir, sir, please!” you whimper. “Jake! I can't!”

“Shh,” he coos, kissing your calf. “Trust me, honey. You'll be fine.”

You shut up, trusting him and feeling like you're going to die. You can't see straight anymore, your eyes are rolling into the back of your head and you're hazy with lust and bliss. You mewl, surprised to feel the pleasure building up within you again, completely out of your control.

Your pussy is raw and throbbing, the pleasure shaking you from head to toe. You're going to die. You feel like you are. You're sure you're going to die. But you trust him, allowing him to send another orgasm crashing down on you.

You whimper, trembling, chest so tight you can barely breathe. You don't notice it, but you squirt all over Jake, soaking his lower abdomen and his hips, making him groan.

“Goddamn,” he grunts, flattening his ears against his head, his swollen balls ready to release his load in your womb. “Oh, 'm gonna fill you,” he promises. “I'm gonna put my cum so deep inside you, you'll end up having my baby.”

You writhe beneath him, nodding eagerly. “Please!” you beg. “Please! 'm already yours, sir! Please!”

With a few more thrusts, Jake reaches his release. His seed spills into you, making you shudder as he fills you. He groans, digging his teeth into your calf, making you jerk.

“Fuck,” he gasps, breathing heavily as he comes down from his high. He glances at you to find you worn out, your eyes closed, chest heaving with your breaths.

Jake cages you under him. “You feeling okay, sweetheart?”

You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Much better, sir.”

Jake smirks. No one like him for you. You're his.

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@kamcrazy123 @yagirlheree @sweetllamaparadise @neytirishottie @crazy4books1

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Blog masterlist

[roseboysstuff]

Prob a weird request but Yandere Leon not wanting his trans bf to leave so he drugs them with an aphrodisiac so they can’t leave (especially if he was so obsessive and put a collar on them and everything omfg)

Listen if you think this is weird you haven't seen inside my brain

Leon loved you. You knew that was clear. But he did scare you sometimes, with how he gripped just a little too tightly onto your hips, bruising them to claim you. How he wouldn't let you leave his sight, unless you were inside the house and he knew you wouldn't leave. So imagine his reaction when he woke up to your side of the bed being empty, and heard the front door open. He was up faster than ever and he grabbed a syringe he kept in his drawer "for emergencies". He hid it behind his back, and ran to the front door, just in time to grab your arm before you could leave. "What do you think you're doing, baby boy?" His voice was guttural, with anger lacing his words. Your voice stayed caught in your throat, choking on your own words as you looked at him. His eyes, usually full of love, were now filled with anger, and obsession. He didn't even give you a chance to explain, before you were pulled into a tight embrace, and you were happy to return it, until you felt a slight pain in your neck. You looked up to see him pulling a now empty syringe out of your neck, and he just sighed. "I didn't want to have to do this, but you left me no choice. Don't worry, angel. You're mine, and I'll keep you safe, even from yourself." You tried to speak, to run away, to push him away, but you felt your muscles growing weak. You didn't pass out, but your muscles didn't obey you. He caught you as you slumped to the ground, and picked you up into his arms, carrying you back to the bed. A few garbled sounds of protest managed to escape your lips as he pulled your pants down, revealing your waiting pussy, already wet from the drugs. Without warning he pushed himself into you, kissing the tears that were starting to fall. "Hush, be a good boy, you're safe." He keeps fucking into you, attaching a collar to your neck, attached to the bed, to keep you close to him. He was determined to keep you by his side, even if you struggled, even if you squirmed. You were his, and he was never going to let you go.

[fadingdaggerr]

hello :] i had an idea / req for you!

melissa/reader where r is new around (new teachers aide, teacher, anything rly), they’re just new so melissa isn’t exactly head over heels yet. but then maybe smth happens to r where they’re in trouble or hurt and melissa ends up being to one to find and take care of them, and melissa realizes how quickly she’s growing attached OMFG THIS IS SO LONG AND SUCH A RAMBLE SORRY! run with it however you’d like xoxo -🧛🏻‍♀️

blush to ruby

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: request above! think i stuck pretty true to it, i went with r getting hurt rather than an altercation just bc my last fic was more that route

warnings: hurt/comfort (but literal hurt. like pain hurt), mentions of blood and a non-serious injury, r should’ve had a that’s so raven moment tbf, kinda short oops

note: title is light to darker shade of red to show deepening feelings, in case u were curious. i wanted to call this “unfortunate foreshadowing” but it’s a little on the nose

melissa hates lunch duty. everyone does really, she wasn’t alone. but what no one ever really talks about, recess duty. the worst part was the screaming, the occasional crying, and the constant whining when it was time to go back inside. somehow after running around at top speeds for twenty minutes straight, the children the even more hyperactive.

maybe it wasn’t so bad. ever since you started at abbott last semester, melissa found herself enjoying the extra time with you. she liked the little one-on-one conversations with you that this time allowed her. melissa thought it was rather sweet how you interacted with the little eagles. she’d watch as you ran down the line of swings, pushing each student as they giggled and yelled higher, higher! but this week was a blessing to the children, mr. johnson finally inflated the sad looking dodgeballs in the recess bins. four-square is a very, very serious matter.

“alright little eagles, huddle up,” melissa shouts with her hands cupped around her mouth.

“time for the rules,” you say, getting a collective groan in return, “don’t give me the uuugh stuff, half of you break them before the game even starts.” you hear melissa chuckle beside you, making you visibly struggle to hide a smile.

“no hitting the ball when it’s not you’re turn. only hit the ball with your hands, not your face. i’m looking at you, tyler,” you give him a playful glare, he sticks his tongue out in response. “hit the ball out of the bounds, you’re out. if it bounces more than once in your square, you’re out. catch the ball, you’re out.”

the kids create their teams and start playing, you and melissa are really only there to stop them from literally butting heads, and to grab the ball if it rolls out. four rounds in and everyone was laughing and having fun. melissa particularly enjoyed being gifted a dandelion flower crown that you helped one of her students make, gently laying it on top of her hair.

“last round, then we’re heading back in!” you call to them. when they change players, it’s all fourth graders, only one of which was from your class. melissa could recall that when yasir had been in her second grade class, he mentioned his sister played volleyball at the high school, and she taught him all about it. melissa turns to give you the heads up right as the game starts. the ball bounces into yasir’s square, to which he smacks with all his might. the sheer speed of the ball gave you no time to duck, smacking you straight in the face.

your hands fly over your nose, eyes already watering from pain. melissa can hear the muffled string of swears under your hands and immediately jumps into action, although shaking a bit with need to help you. she ushers the kids back inside the lunchroom to get them to their teachers. she runs to janine and asks her to watch her kids, and teacher lee to watch yours, while she takes you to the nurse.

“nurse alayna isn’t here today, but her office has the same key as the conference rooms. just leave her a note if you take anything other than tissues,” lee says as they wave your students over to their group.

melissa settles on guiding to the office with a hand on your lower back, quietly telling you she’ll help you and that you’re okay. she sees more tears form in your eyes when your pull your hands back, blood covering your palms. her hold on your waist tightens with reassurance, your tears making her protectiveness over you grow. when you get into the office, she holds tissues to your nose as you wash your shaking hands.

you cringe when you sit on the paper covering the bench, the sound of it making the pain in your head worse somehow. melissa noticed and watched as you stood up to rip away the paper violently, muttering asshole under your breath. even when you were in pain and crying, you were still you.

she replaced your hold on the tissues as she carefully wiped away rogue tears and blood with a tissue, apologizing when you winced. “okay hon, i’m gonna have to look at it for real now,” she speaks softly, as if you’re a scared animal.

you shake your head and ramble, “no, no, i can do it. you don’t have to look at it, it’s probably disgusting.”

she drops the tissue to hold your hand, “i’ve seen worse, i was married to a man,” this makes you chuckle, then wince from the laugh. “i want to help. i’ll be careful, i promise,” she holds her pinky out to you. she feels your smile under her hand more than she can really see it, but her heart rate quickens when your pinky wraps around hers as tight as possible.

“what’s the damage, dr. schemmenti?”

pulling back the tissues, melissa can see that your nose and the area around it was swelling a little. she used a featherlight touch to graze her finger up the bridge of your nose, checking to see if it had been broken. a hiss of pain from you has her hand retracting, apology hot on her tongue.

“sorry, sorry. i’m a wuss with pain and blood and all that,” your hands have a vice grip on your knees as you rush your words.

melissa’s thumb caresses your wrist, “don’t apologize, it hurts like a bitch. i just need to lightly pinch the bridge to feel if it’s broken, okay?” you grimace at the question but nod. “just squeeze my hand if it hurts, don’t worry about hurting me,” she reassured you, holding your hand, interlocking your fingers.

only about three second later, with an almost broken hand, melissa concludes your nose is not broken. she gently cleans off the blood from your skin, so gentle you can barely feel the touch except for the fabric of the towel. your hand stays in melissa’s, the looser grip allows her to feel the anxious vibrations still running through you.

she decides she has to make you feel better, “once we get you all patched up, how about we raid the lollipops? i know she’s got some around here, she saves me the bubble gum ones.”

you laugh a bit, careful not to disrupt the last of her work, “bubble gum? what’s wrong with you?”

“they’re horrible and i love them, okay? what do you even like? strawberry or something else boring?”

“root beer. obviously.”

“you don’t even like root beer, you’re a diet coke purist. you told me root beer tasted like minty iced coffee,” melissa says as she throws out the tissues and disposable towel, making a note of them and the future candies.

your free hand rises, “listen the lolly version is better than the soda. and there’s no diet coke lollipop, now is there?”

melissa relishes in your laugh for a moment, “you got me there.”

you’re able to run out to your car to grab a sweatshirt to replace your stained shirt, melissa standing guard as you changed in the backseat. she held back a cackle at seeing a delicately embroidered cursive, reading bon fromage, with a small stitched image of a wheel of cheese on a boat beneath it. you try to hold back your own laugh as you say, “don’t even start, it’s all i had in the car.”

“no, it’s cute. it’s ridiculous, but very cute,” she responds with a stifled laugh.

“if you’re done laughing, i’ll take that lollipop now,” your say, holding your hand out.

melissa drops your root beer lollipop in your palm, but you quickly switch them. her eyes never leave you as you unwrap the candy and place it in your mouth. her heart rate picks up and her skin warms, she blinks rapidly to erase the totally platonic thoughts she was having.

intent eyes watch as your tongue moves the candy to the side of your mouth to speak, “okay, maybe it’s not so bad. but root beer is still better.”

“i told ya,” she mumbles as she unwraps her own lollipop and tries it, “dammit. you were right.” you laugh and give yourself a little round of applause at her response.

you clear your throat, suddenly nervous, “thank you. you didn’t have to, even if you say it’s fine. just, thank you anyways. i really do appreciate it, melissa.”

she wraps an arm around your shoulders, leading you back into the building as she thinks about how to respond, “and i’d do it again in a heartbeat if i had to.”

the rest of the day has melissa has this nagging need to check on you, even with only two and a half hours left in the day. she had to wrangle with herself to not rush to ask how are you or peek through the window and see for herself. the deep-seated feeling to protect you only quadrupled in size after seeing you in pain, feeling you grip her hand for support. taking care of you had felt second nature to the redhead.

when the kids cleared out, she quickly grabbed her things and walked to your classroom. she lingered in the doorway as she watched you pack away your planner and a couple folders for grading away into your bag. she knocked lightly on the doorframe to announce herself before she was caught staring, only to be met with soft eyes and a smile, a hand motioning her closer. as if she’d ever stray far from you again.

on the nose. get it :D i’m sorry.

feedback appreciated, love y’all big time