#and it's almost been a week so I figured I might as well

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Where Soft Things Grow 🌱 [B. R.]

Bob Reynolds x fem!reader

wc: 6.8k

summary: when Bob's therapist asks him to find an activity that will help him gain some control, he's forced to turn to you. That's just the first step in a series of events he never thought would happen.

masterlist

warnings: mental health (yk, canon stuff)

It had been almost a year since the last big mission. Since the previous time someone ended up in the hospital, or any of you were trapped in your own silence for weeks.

Bob was better. Not well, not completely. But better.

At the recommendation—and insistence—of the entire team, he had started going to therapy. It wasn't easy. It took him months to accept that he needed to talk to someone who didn't carry a gun or know his traumas firsthand.

So his therapist asked him to choose a recurring activity. Something nonviolent. Something he could maintain consistently, even on bad days.

Bob thought about learning to cook, write, draw… but nothing really convinced him.

Ultimately, he ended up in a corner of the tower, with three pots, two bags of soil, and a defeated expression: so, gardening it was. He had bought plants, not seeds, because he thought it would be easier that way. He followed the shop assistant's recommendations a bit: he bought mint, lavender, and basil.

He'd never had a plant in his life and hadn't even read an article about it, but he tried to remain as positive as possible. After all, that was the goal, wasn't it? With a little practice, he could learn, and besides, he figured it shouldn't be too difficult to achieve.

What he didn't understand was that plants didn't survive on just care and excess water. Bob watered every morning, without fail. Sometimes out of anxiety, other times out of fear of forgetting, other times because he convinced himself he was doing the right thing. After a week of this routine, the most logical thing happened: the mint turned yellow, the lavender wilted, and the poor basil gave up without a fight.

He stood in front of the pots, his brow furrowed, his hands caked with damp soil. His fingers trembled slightly as they clumsily plucked the withered leaves. For a moment, he considered simply throwing them away. Buying new ones. Pretending things had never gone wrong.

But that wasn't what they had asked of him in therapy.

"It's not about making it perfect," his therapist had told him, with that calmness that made him a little uncomfortable. "It's about allowing yourself to fail, and moving on. About caring, even when you don't know how."

Then, for some strange reason, he thought of you.

You once mentioned that you liked plants, having grown up with a mother who took care of them a ton. You might know a thing or two about that, so, without giving it much thought, he went looking for you.

He wandered around for a while until he found you in the shared kitchen, sitting on one of the stools. You had a steaming mug in your hands, and he hesitated before speaking.

"Hey," he finally said, his voice softer than usual, "Do you have a moment?"

You nodded, putting the cup aside and approaching cautiously.

"Hi. You okay?"

Bob shrugged uncomfortably. He hadn't dared mention his project to anyone, for fear of feeling overly scrutinized or pressured. But now, in front of you, his nails were still stained with dirt and the smell of dead basil permeated his T-shirt. He felt ridiculous.

"I'm… trying this plant-care thing," he began, sounding a little frustrated. "My therapist recommended it. But it was supposed to be easy."

You frowned, curious.

"Easy?"

He gave a short laugh, with a hint of embarrassment.

"She told me to choose a consistent activity, so I bought three plants. But I killed them in a week."

"Which plants?"

"Mint, basil and lavender"

"Hmm, they’re whimsical…" you murmured, clicking your tongue, more to yourself than to him. "Can I see them?"

He nodded almost immediately, and then the two of you set off, walking to the space he'd selected for his little project. As soon as you arrived, he noticed you scanning everything around you. Then you knelt to touch the withered leaves and damp earth.

When you stood up, you delivered a verdict:

"They’re too wet”

"But they need water," he replied in bewilderment.

Seeing him so lost touched you slightly and you smiled at him, understanding.

"How many times have you watered them?"

"Every morning"

"Oh! No, honey. You're drowning them. Not only do they need to be watered so often, it depends on the plant. They also need space, light, and rest. Just like you."

Although your voice came out kind, he felt annoyed with himself.

"This is stupid, I'll try something else."

"No, Bob. Don't be discouraged. Gardening is… it's a very good strategy for what your therapist is looking for. It requires time, care, discipline, and above all, patience." You emphasized the last word, making him smile. "What do you say I help you? We'll buy some new plants, and I'll tell you how to take care of them."

"Would you do that?"

"Of course. Especially if this can help you in your process. You'll see how much you'll grow fond of it over time."

After that conversation, he felt more encouraged about it. He thought maybe sharing it with you would get him more involved, as he felt a certain commitment to not letting you down. Plus, he enjoyed spending time with you.

That same afternoon, you went to a nursery, with plants completely different from the ones he'd bought at the supermarket. They looked more vibrant, with bright colors and a fresh, lively look.

While there, you explained to him which ones were best suited for indoors—because yes, he didn't know there were plants for both indoors and outdoors—and then he chose all shapes and sizes. Maybe he was being superficial, but again, the criterion for choosing was appearance.

When you returned, it was no longer just three sad flowerpots, but you entered the tower carrying a wooden box full of vegetation, fertilizer, a set of gardening tools, and a metal watering can.

"What are you two up to?"

Bucky and Yelena were sitting in the living room, watching you with a strange interest. They were probably discussing important matters, a mission or something along those lines. You simply told them it was Bob's assignment and then slipped off down the hall, motivated to set up the small green area.

"Plants need different things. Some require more water, more light, more time in the shade…"

As you explained, he arranged the pots around the space, listening attentively to your words. The patio was somewhat small, but spacious enough to function.

"They're like people. Each one likes something different, behaves differently, or has different roles..."

"You know, I chose gardening without much thought, but now I'm thinking I might tell all this to my therapist when she asks me why. Would you write it down for me?"

Bob was cute and kind, but now and then he would make jokes that always made you laugh.

"Okay, okay, I get it. I must sound crazy."

"No! I didn't mean that, no. I'm just saying it would make a lot more sense for me to explain it that way than to simply justify it by saying I thought it would be the easiest activity."

With a smile, you looked at him for a moment. Then you placed the pot of dying lavender in his hands.

"This one's for you. First lesson, lavender needs lots of sun. Put it in your bedroom window."

"Can it be saved?"

"Everything can be saved, Bob. You just need to give it a chance."

The man felt that action was poetic. Would you maintain that attitude toward everything? Even him?

"You're… you're very good to me. Thank you."

That caught you off guard, though it didn't seem strange to you. He had this habit of thanking you for everything, as if you were doing him a favor by treating him decently.

From then on, the garden played two important roles: a space of stillness and order for Bob and a quiet way for the rest of the team to coexist with him.

"Looks good."

"You think so?" he asked Yelena, who was watching him from the doorway.

Now he watered the plants once or twice a week, as you had instructed. You had even helped him design a schedule that he kept posted on the wall, to ease his anxiety about forgetting.

"Yes, I mean it. I brought you something, by the way."

The woman handed him a ceramic pot.

"A cactus?"

"Yes. This one doesn't die if you forget to water it."

The gesture warmed your friend's heart, and he made sure to put the pot—small enough to fit in just one hand—in a pretty spot. He assumed it needed sunlight and little water. Later, he checked with you to be sure.

That corner soon became Bob's adoration, obsessed with learning and taking the best possible care of his little garden.

You made compost with organic waste, you taught him how to prune, and he even had his own crop of medicinal or edible plants, which more than once managed to save the day.

“Fuck!"

"What's wrong, Walker?"

"This recipe calls for rosemary. And we don't have any."

"Take it from my garden," chimed in Bob, who was sitting on the couch trying to put together a puzzle.

"Which garden?"

"The one I have downstairs. It's a task my therapist gave me. It helps me relax and so on."

John looked at him, incredulous.

"And do you have rosemary in that place?"

"Mhm. Rosemary, basil, mint, thyme, cilantro…"

He mentally reviewed the list and then swore he saw the soldier's face light up, probably already working on a couple of recipes. From that moment on, he became the official supplier of herbs within the tower. Anyone who was cooking and needed a condiment, or who fancied a medicinal tea, came to him.

On another occasion, Ava had heard murmurings in the hallway. She thought it was an intruder, then she thought Bob was having a breakdown, and when she got closer, she finally found him chatting excitedly. However, upon closer inspection, she realized he was alone.

"I didn't imagine you as someone who talks to plants."

The woman surprised him and he, logically, jumped into his own place. Then he smiled at her.

"Hi. I read somewhere it helps them grow. Honestly, I think it's helping me more than them."

"Well, if talking to them keeps you sane, then keep talking to them."

A soft chuckle escaped his chest as he stroked the leaves like one would stroke a pet.

"I discovered that plants are less complicated than people, anyway. That's why I like spending time with them."

"Well, it smells like my grandmother's patio."

Even if they joked around, everyone in the tower just let Bob be. If he was comfortable with the activity and it got him out of the darkness of his room, it was fine with them.

But to be honest, you were the one who was enjoying this hobby of his the most. In your free time, you went there hoping to find him, and from time to time, you helped him rearrange his pots, since some followed Yelena's example and bought plants from him whenever they could.

One of those days, you were immersed in your work when you heard Bob speak:

"You know, just being here makes this whole place feel different. More beautiful."

You laughed.

"Are you talking to that plant or are you talking to me?"

"Both. But you don't need that much sunlight."

You stopped turning the humus in the soil to watch him, surprised by his response to your joke. But Bob seemed to say that as if it were natural, for he didn't flinch in the least at your gaze; he continued pruning with the same delicacy and concentration as always. The mere thought of him thinking that about your presence made you blush, and although you tried to continue working, your concentration was disrupted considerably.

One day, however, the inevitable happened.

Your friend hadn't had an episode for a while, but something—you didn't know what—managed to unsettle him. It wasn't immediate or explosive. There were no screams, no blows, no prolonged absences. It was more like a fog that slowly settled over him, dulling his calm glow.

At first, no one noticed. Bob was still just as attentive, just as polite. But he stopped eating with the others. He became quieter, more methodical, more isolated. Yelena was the first to frown when he turned down a card game. Bucky said nothing, but watched him out of the corner of his eye with silent concern. John, on the other hand, was more direct:

"Everything okay, Bobby?"

"Excellent," he replied, with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Ava left some snacks in the cupboard. Alexei offered to help him with an installation that clearly didn't need any help. Everyone noticed, in their own way. But no one found a suitable way in.

Except you.

Or maybe you were just in the right place when the lights stayed on past midnight.

From the common room, you could see, through the hallway windows, the warm light from Bob's room. It wasn't unusual for him to stay up late—he hadn't slept much in years—but there was something about the way that light didn't flicker, about the static shadow behind the curtain, that gave you a hunch.

So you walked up to his door and knocked softly.

"Bob?"

Nothing.

"Can I come in?"

You thought maybe he had just fallen asleep with the lights on, or maybe he just didn't want to talk to anyone. A few seconds later, as you were about to leave, you heard his footsteps shuffling toward the door.

When he opened your eyes, his eyes were red-rimmed, and the dark circles under them were more pronounced than usual. What worried you was that he didn't try to fake it. He didn't try to smile, or straighten up. He just stepped aside to let you in.

The room was messy. Not in a catastrophic sense, but the signs were there: clothes on the chair, a forgotten cup, books piled up as if he'd tried—in vain—to read one.

"No sleep?"

"I was finishing some things," you replied simply. You knew what he was trying to do; he wanted to divert attention from himself. "Do you want to talk about this?"

"Talk about what?" he asked. He wasn't looking at you.

You remained silent, and so did he. But you didn't move a muscle, making it clear that you didn't intend to leave, even if he didn't say a word. You would stay there and keep him company. Finally, he sat on the edge of the bed, his shoulders hunched. Defeated.

He was slow to respond.

"I don't know. I just… felt bad. Not because of anything specific, I just think it built up."

You sat down next to him. You didn't say anything. You just listened to him take a deep breath.

"I thought I was better," he continued. "And I am. But sometimes it all comes back. And it's like my body remembers before my mind does."

You didn't hug him. Not yet. But you moved your leg closer to his, letting him feel your presence. It was Bob who leaned toward you, placing his head on your shoulder.

"Do you want me to say something or would you prefer that I not?"

"I don't want to talk. Just stay."

You spent several minutes like that, in silence. At some point, he closed his eyes, exhausted, and although he didn't fall asleep, it seemed like his body was finally letting go of something it had been carrying for days.

At some point, you slipped your hand into his, which he gladly accepted. The way your thumb caressed his knuckles made him feel calmer, as if he could focus on that instead of his own thoughts.

"You need to rest"

"I can't. I tried, but I can't."

"But you must do it."

Your tone, though firm, tried to be as empathetic as possible. Suddenly, your gaze fell on the flowerpot resting on the windowsill, and an idea popped into your mind.

Bob looked devastated when you stood up from your seat.

"Where are you going?"

"I'll get you something to help you sleep, okay? Wait a minute."

As a farewell, you brushed his hair with your fingers and he nodded without saying anything.

You then went to the kitchen, where a jar full of already dried lavender flowers rested –product of the garden, of course– you placed them in the infuser and it went straight to the fire.

Then you went to your room. The bottle of oil you used on some sleepless nights rested on one of the shelves, and you took the opportunity to put on a hoodie, since for some reason Bob's room felt frigid. As if it reflected the mood of its occupant.

When you returned—cup in hand—you found him in the same position, almost as if he hadn't noticed your absence. His gaze was lost, a hint of sadness shining in his tired eyes.

"Hey"

"You won't be able to sleep if you have all the lights on, for starters," you smiled. You then adjusted the lighting to amber. "Drink this."

Bob took the cup without saying anything, but his fingers brushed yours as he did so. He stared at the contents for a few seconds, then brought the rim to his lips and drank… too quickly.

"It's hot!"

"I noticed," he murmured, his lips parted, rubbing the roof of his mouth with his tongue.

You couldn't help but laugh, your tone soft and not inviting mockery. He imitated you.

"Let me see," you said, leaning in a little closer, as if you could actually do something about it. Your eyes met his, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

"I'm fine,"

"Be more careful."

Bob responded with a faint smile before bringing the cup to his lips and gently blowing on the drink, as if that slow gesture might also soothe the turmoil inside his chest. Meanwhile, you poured a few drops of the oil onto your fingertips and then knelt in front of him, occupying the space between his legs. Your knees gently touched the carpet, and your hands, delicate but determined, rose to brush away a few unruly strands of hair that had fallen over his forehead. You touched him with an almost ceremonial tenderness, stroking his temples as if each stroke brought some relief.

Bob let out a long, weary sigh. The warm scent of the oil—lavender, or maybe something with sandalwood—drifted softly into his senses, and within seconds his eyelids fluttered closed, overcome by the contrast between the warmth of your touch and the coolness the ointment left on his skin. His body began to relax, releasing the tension built up in his shoulders, neck, jaw... but his heart, that traitor, only raced.

He felt your proximity like a magnetic field: the warmth of your thighs, the calm cadence of your breathing, the barely perceptible touch of your fingers as they slid closer to his cheekbones. You were too close, and yet, not close enough.

If he leaned in a little—just a little—his nose would touch yours. He didn't.

"Have you finished your tea?"

Your voice broke the warm bubble that enveloped him and anchored him back to the room. Bob blinked, disoriented for a second, reminding himself that this was all part of an attempt to get him to sleep. So he feigned normalcy. He nodded slowly as you walked away, leaving an invisible gap in the air that he instantly felt.

He held the mug in his hands for a moment longer, as if the warmth trapped in the ceramic could fill the emptiness you left in his chest. Then he took a sip and placed it on the nightstand, next to the remnants of possibilities.

Suddenly, his movements became slower, almost mechanical, as if his body were finally beginning to give in to a tiredness he'd been ignoring for days. And you stood there, staring at him without intruding. The room had that kind of silence that comes only after a storm: a soft echo of what hurt, but also the promise that everything will calm down.

"You should sleep too," he said, softly and quietly.

His eyes remained open. Not because he wasn't sleepy, but because he was still watching you.

It was a silent gaze, without expectations or intention to disturb. But there was something about it—the way his eyelids softened, the way the corners of his lips slightly curved, the way he looked at you as if you were the only certainty he had at that moment—that overflowed with tenderness. An adoration so deep he didn't seem to realize he was letting it show.

"Yeah. I'll go to my room when you're asleep," you replied, unconcerned.

Something stirred inside him. Not physically, but inside. That sentence struck a soft blow to his chest. He didn't want you to leave. He didn't want to be alone when the silence returned with all its weight. But he didn't want to say it out loud either.

How do you ask for something like that? How can you ask someone to stay, to share a bed with you just to ward off the shadow of loneliness?

He thought about thanking you and staying silent. He thought about accepting that small consolation without risking more. But just as the thought began to hurt him a little inside, you looked at him with the same gentleness with which he looked at you and asked:

"Would it make you feel better if I stayed?"

And it was as if you'd read his soul. Bob blinked once, surprised at how quickly his chest filled with something warm. He nodded with unexpected, almost awkward energy, as if yes had won out over restraint.

"Yes. Yes... please."

"Do you have a blanket to put on the floor?"

"What? No! No need. You can sleep in the bed… huh, only if you want to."

A smile crossed your face, and then you moved first, as if you understood perfectly. You silently took off your shoes and settled on the side closest to the wall. He took a little longer, as if he was doubting whether that was really possible. But he lay down.

The mattress was narrow, and although neither of you sought contact, the closeness was inevitable. Your breathing began out of sync, but gradually found a similar rhythm. The room, with its warm light and soft shadows, no longer felt so cold.

Bob kept his eyes open for a while, fixed on a spot on the ceiling. He seemed to be trying to record the way everything felt: the scent of oil still hanging in the air, the distant murmur of the city beyond the windows, the nearby warmth of someone who wasn't running away from their sadness. The sensation was strange, not because it was uncomfortable, but because it was new. And newness, for someone like him, usually came with scars.

He thought of nights past, in beds where there was only a thick silence, where darkness felt like a threat. Of the years when insomnia was the only constant and abrupt awakenings were confused with fragments of a blurred childhood. There had never been anyone who came into his room to check on him. There had never been a cup of something hot or hands on his temples to help him calm down. That's why this was too much. Almost unbearable, so intimate.

And yet, there you were. You didn't push, you didn't say more than necessary. You were just there. And that, while it disarmed him, also sustained him. He didn't understand how, but your presence slowed down his chaotic psyche.

"Are you comfortable?"

"Yes, calm down. Are you?"

"Better than ever"

He didn't turn toward you. He didn't reach for your hand. But he knew, with a certainty he couldn't explain, that if he woke up in the middle of the night, you'd still be there. And that, for someone like him, was something of a miracle.

He fell asleep before he realized it. Not with the depth of someone who has never known fear, but with the peace of someone who, for the first time, is not alone with his ghosts.

That day was etched in his memory as one of those nights that don't seem extraordinary at first, but which, over time, take on a different meaning. It wasn't what you said or what you did. It was everything you didn't say. What you left hanging in the air, in the comfortable silences, in the way the warm light seemed to embrace the space between your bodies.

From then on, something changed. Slowly, without any big announcements, Bob began to walk differently. It wasn't obvious to everyone, but you noticed. On good days, his voice sounded clearer; on bad days, he no longer isolated himself completely. There was a kind of new pulse beating beneath his usual stillness. A faint thread that kept him more present.

Little by little, he resumed a more consistent rhythm in his life. Not perfect, not linear, but steadier. He slept better. He allowed himself to be accompanied. And although he still preferred brief conversations, he began to offer you small gestures that spoke louder than any words. His presence felt lighter, less cornered by the weight of the world.

And then there was the garden. That green corner, once merely a clumsy attempt at his therapy, became a reflection of everything he was trying to rebuild. The plants were more organized, more alive. Now and then, you find new shoots you didn't remember seeing before. Pots with freshly turned soil were rearranged; he had even started planting his seeds instead of buying the plants.

One ordinary afternoon—after one of those workouts that left your muscles crying out for respite—you took a long, leisurely shower. The steam washed away the exhaustion from your body, and for a while you thought about nothing. When you stepped out, the towel still hanging around your neck and your damp hair sticking to your skin, the first thing you saw upon entering the kitchen was your water bottle on the table… and next to it, a small bouquet.

You stopped dead in your tracks.

There was no note. Just the flowers: a modest handful, wrapped in brown paper, with no need to look perfect. A few marigolds opened as if they'd caught the sun, a couple of sprigs of still-fresh lavender, and in the center, two white begonias.

You gently ran your fingers over the petals, as if afraid of ruining the gesture. For a second, a very stupid one, it didn't occur to you who had done such a thing.

"And that?" Yelena murmured, next to you. She had also showered and was looking for something to chew on.

"They were… next to my water bottle. They just appeared."

"Huh, what a mystery."

"I know," you murmured sincerely, not having noticed the sarcasm in your friend's voice. She looked at you for a second, waiting for the punchline to a joke that never came. "What?"

“You seriously don't know who gave them to you?”

"Yours?" you tried your luck. She laughed, with that characteristic raspy sound, and shook her head in amusement.

"Maybe it is a mystery. If only we knew someone who took up gardening recently and practically kisses the ground you walk on…"

Suddenly, everything clicked. And you felt stupid for not having figured it out sooner.

"Bob?"

"I highly doubt Bucky is the romantic type. And Walker… well, he's Walker."

You remained silent. You knew that even a single syllable from your lips would condemn you forever, and you didn't want Yelena to know about your feelings so soon. You had to talk to him first.

"Huh, yeah, I think you're right. I'll put them in my room then. See you."

"Your room is across the hall…" she observed, smiling mischievously.

The worst part? She was right.

"Yeah! I'm just going to get something I… forgot in the training room."

The blonde didn't buy a word of your poor lie and made sure to remember the situation so she could annoy you in the future.

You walked quickly until you reached the door of his room. You knocked, but no one answered. You assumed he was probably in the garden, so you went there, certain you'd find him watering the garden or simply admiring the surroundings. The smile you had on your face was replaced by a frown. He wasn't there either. Had he left the tower? Maybe to buy something, you thought, although it wasn't logical.

You wandered through a few floors, hoping to run into him in one of the hallways, but it was all in vain. It was just you and the modest flowers you were holding. Finally, an unknown force whispered in your ear that he might be on the roof. It was a secluded spot you sometimes used to do things off camera—which Valentina monitored and watched like a psycho—so you thought it would be good to check. After all, you had nothing to lose if he wasn't there either.

As you stepped out, the drafts hit your ears and ruffled your hair. It took only a few steps to see his figure, near the shore in a contemplative pose with his arms crossed, as if he were hugging himself.

Of course he realized he was no longer alone, but when he turned and saw you, his expression softened considerably.

"How did you find me?"

"Were you hiding?"

Your question caught him off guard, and so he didn't say anything. You walked over to stand beside him.

"For someone afraid of heights, this doesn't seem like the best place."

"I like to see the sky. I try not to look down."

A chuckle escaped you. Bob looked at what you were holding and then pretended he hadn't.

"Look what I found. No note, no nothing."

"And do you like them?"

"Of course, they're beautiful. I wonder if it was Alexei, he's usually cheesy."

His brow furrowed. You stifled a laugh at his obvious annoyance.

"Do you think they're cheesy?"

"Coming from him, yes. If someone else were responsible, it would be… sweet. Even romantic, I think."

The look you shared was one of complicity. He knew you knew, but neither of you wanted to dare be the first to speak. So, when there were no words, he decided to reach out his hand to reach yours; a trembling, delicate, and experimental touch.

His fears evaporated when you smiled and leaned a little closer, forcing him to embrace you. His free arm cupped your lower back, and the flowers in your other hand wound up on his back. Suddenly, the chill in the air was overshadowed by the body heat you were suddenly sharing.

"I would have liked to give them to you in person, but… I think I was a little afraid."

"Why would you be afraid?"

"I don't know. I thought maybe you wouldn't like them."

"I was going to like them anyway, Bob. Only because you're the one giving them to me," you swore. Against your hair, he suppressed a smile. "Where did you get them?"

"I took care of them"

"But I didn't see them in the garden."

"It's just that I don't have them there. I put them somewhere else to… well, you know. To surprise you” you smiled. "I wanted to give you something nice as a thank you for everything you've done for me."

You pulled away, just a little, to look into his eyes. He was so tall that, if he'd wanted, he could have kissed you on the forehead.

"That's what friends do: support each other. You don't need to thank me for anything."

"But I wanted to. Maybe it's not much, but…"

"Don't say that," you interrupted. "These flowers are a symbol of the progress you've made. They need sun, water, soil, companionship, care… just like you. You keep them alive because you love them, and because at the same time, they lift you, even on bad days."

For a second, Bob felt like this didn't just apply to his garden. He wasn't a great connoisseur of love, yet he knew he loved you. And you were the reason he was getting better; the mere thought of being with you was what got him out of bed on days when he just wanted to lie there until he became nothing.

Perhaps he was lost in those thoughts for too long, because all you caught was his intense gaze on you. A soft whisper from your lips brought him back to reality.

"Come a little closer."

The phrase was gentle, but laden with something that made the world shrink at that instant. He obeyed, almost without thinking, and you, on tiptoe, leaned your face toward his. The gesture wasn't invasive, it didn't exert any pressure, and it wasn't meant to be intense. It was simply a kiss, gentle and delicate.

"Is this okay?"

Your voice was barely a murmur between his lips, but Bob felt it in the center of his chest, as if something inside him had suddenly loosened. He didn't know how to respond. Any words he could utter seemed too clumsy, too small for what he was feeling.

So instead of speaking, he leaned over you, demanding a much-needed kiss. Your small sigh caught between your mouths, and that was all the permission he needed. Your arms rose to surround him, and Bob's hands—large, honest, trembling—slid down your sides with an almost reverent slowness, stopping just short of crossing the line of caution.

You didn't believe he could kiss you with such passion, as if he needed your breath to live. Suddenly, everything became a chorus of lip smacking, sighs, and stifled breaths that died in each other's throats. The scent of the flowers, the natural aroma of your bodies, and the taste of the man were making you completely dizzy.

"Fucking Jesus Christ!"

The scream forced you to immediately break away, and then you saw John and Ava standing right in front of you. Both of their faces were twisted in an expression that combined surprise and disgust.

"What are you doing here, you perverts?"

"What are you doing here?" you countered. Bob was too flushed to form a coherent sentence.

"We came to smoke some weed. Bucky doesn't like us doing it inside, and Alexei forbade us."

"Why were you two swallowing each other?"

"That's none of your business, Ava. If you don't say anything, we'll just walk away and not say anything."

You offered no other options, as you barely finished speaking when you took Bob's hand and led him toward the door leading back to the apartment. The door closed with a dull creak behind you, and the echo of laughter lingered up above, floating on the cold drafts. You walked down the steps in silence, walking quickly but awkwardly, as if neither of you knew quite where to put your feet or what to say.

Once on the ground floor, the two of you stopped halfway down. Bob's face was still red up to his ears and he couldn't look at you directly. You, for your part, weren't immune either: adrenaline was still pumping in your temples, but beneath it was a smile you couldn't quite contain.

"Well…" you began, clearing your throat, as if trying to regain some composure.

"That was…" Bob tried, but then he scratched the back of his neck and let out a sigh that barely contained a laugh. "Unexpected. And very… public."

"Yes. Although technically we were alone. Until we weren't."

Bob gave a short, low laugh, as if he didn't know whether to laugh or hide under a table.

"I'm pretty sure I'll never be able to look them in the eye again."

"Relax, I'll take care of the looks. Just stay alive."

He looked at you then. Finally. As if humor didn't diminish the value of everything he'd felt up there, in that overwhelming moment. And you saw something in his eyes: a deep gratitude, a shy but real affection, and a hint of fear, as if he still found it hard to believe this was really happening.

"About that, I… I think I got excited and… sorry if it was too much…"

"Bob."

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

You laughed again, more freely this time, and so did he. The atmosphere between you lightened, as if you'd both let out something you'd been holding in for a long time. Suddenly, the laughter ended, and you two stared at each other again like a pair of fools in love.

"I have to make sure I thank my therapist."

"Why?"

"Because if she hadn't forced me to find a damn hobby, I probably wouldn't have kissed you like I just did."

A blush spread across your face. Then you laughed.

"Let's just say it was faster. Because eventually, it would have happened."

"You think so?"

"I know it, handsome."

Suddenly, it was as if things had changed, but at the same time, the chemistry between you was still as strong as the first time. He was your friend, after all, and you were his.

Bob knew he shouldn't rely on someone's affection or presence to be okay, but honestly, knowing that you reciprocated his feelings and wanted to continue spending time with him became a powerful incentive.

"Do you want us to accuse them with Bucky?"

"John and Ava?"

"I think telling Alexei would be more humiliating for them, right? He'd probably lecture them for hours and search their rooms."

"But we said we wouldn't tell anyone…"

Bob's honesty and the way he looked at you, concerned, made you smile. He could be so sweet sometimes.

"I assure you they'd do the same for us. At least we'll have an advantage. Come on, let's go."

"Wait," he said. He had gently grabbed your wrist to keep you there. "One and that's it."

You didn't need to ask what he meant, because his lips crashing against yours gave you the answer. Although it was brief, the contact maintained the passionate spirit of a few minutes before.

"Will this become a habit?"

"You don't want to?"

He sounded scared. Even disappointed, you dare say. A sly smile spread across your face. You looked at him calmly, as if you wanted to make sure he was really listening to you.

"I asked you because I wanted to know if this… if what just happened… is something you want too. Not because I don't want it."

Bob didn't say anything at first. His eyes moved between yours, as if trying to read between the lines, decipher if there was anything else hidden. But your expression was transparent. You were being honest.

"So…" he murmured, "why ask?"

"Because I care about you. Because I don't want this to become something that just happened on impulse, for a nice night, because of everything we've been dragging along. I don't want you to kiss me just because you were feeling grateful or vulnerable."

That last word hung in the air, but you didn't back down. He held it in silence. His lips pressed slightly together, and when he answered, his voice was deep and steady.

"It wasn't because of that."

You nodded, though you didn't let your guard down completely.

"I had to make sure"

Bob took a deep breath. Then, with a gesture that was clumsier than calculated, he took your hand again, as if he still needed confirmation that you were there, that you hadn't wandered off.

"I'm not good at this. I don't have much experience… in consciously choosing someone. In staying when things get real."

"That doesn't scare me," you said. "As long as you don't run away if I become real."

That response drew a brief, dry but genuine laugh from him. He looked at you as if he'd just seen you for the first time, as if your openness made him understand that you weren't expecting a perfect story. Just a shared story.

"Then yes," he said finally. "I want it to last. If you want it too."

You gave him an approving smile, and then he tried to walk down the hall. It was you who stopped him this time.

"One and done,"

You kissed him again, more briefly this time, but with every intention in the world. Then you took his hand naturally, as if it were something you'd always done.

And even though you didn't say anything else, the way you walked together was enough to understand that you would strive to overcome whatever came. Together.

[adieutristana]

was i just a fool? jinx x fem!reader

i want to do more songfics and i’ve been on a fleetwood mac kick lately so…! here’s some angst

inspired by ‘silver springs’ by fleetwood mac

summary; after her attack on the council, jinx decides it’s best to break up. it’s been months, and she can’t move on.

characters included; jinx

tags/warnings; angst, hurt no comfort, break-up/post break-up, takes place beginning of s2, mentions of poor mental health, mentions of alcohol but no drinking, r works at the last drop, dual pov (kinda), jinx spiraling

men dni.

jinx feels like her heart might just leap out of her chest, right through her throat.

she's stood in front of your apartment, twiddling your thumbs and trembling. the previous week had been nothing short of chaotic- with her kidnapping her sister and sister's girlfriend, accidentally killing silco, and blowing up piltover's councilroom.

you knew, of course you did. you were the first person jinx ran to afterward, because she trusted you, and you've been the one constant in her life. with shaking limbs and hot tears running down her face, she'd collapsed onto your lap in a fit of shaky sobs.

"i'm sorry- i, oh gods, i'm so sorry..."

"shh, shh," you'd whispered, rubbing soothing circles into your girlfriend's lower back. were you confused, conflicted? of course. jinx had just done an objectively terrible thing, killed someone- probably multiple someones in just one night, but part of you could understand why she did it.

she was overwhelmed. she felt hurt, betrayed. discovering that your sister is dating an enforcer after her history with enforcers, being as volatile as jinx is and feeling rejected by vi over and over again. being actively manipulated by silco. if you were in her situation, you might've done the same.

"you're not mad at me, are you?'' she'd sniffled, looking at you through tears. to which you only placed a kiss on her damp forehead. "please don't be mad at me. please. not you."

"i'm a little confused, but no, i'm not mad."

every word and touch from you made jinx positively melt, and she never knew what she'd done to deserve this kind of kindness. you could see her lash out, hallucinate, try to hurt herself, hurt others- do some of the most monstrous acts possible, but you still found it in yourself to be gentle with her, and love her. she's never seen that in the cards for herself.

but it's that goodness you have in you that kills jinx. because she's convinced herself after that attack that somehow, she's going to make your life worse. she might hurt you. she might accidentally put you in danger. and even if none of that happens, you just deserve someone better than her. someone who has a stable head on their shoulders, and can provide you comfort. that same sweet and gentle love that you give her, despite her best efforts to be what you need.

she can hear her heartbeat in her ears, but slowly raises a fist to knock at your door. knock, knock, knock- and then silence. it's only fifteen seconds maximum before the door swings open, but it might as well be forever.

"oh, hey, babe," you hum, a light smile tugging at the corners of your lips. you clearly weren't expecting her, but she figured this wasn't the kind of visit she'd want you to plan for. "i, uh.. didn't know you were coming. do you wanna come in? i could get you water, or i've got some juice-"

"no, thanks," she interjects, her voice trembling. this doesn't go unnoticed by you, though- and your brows are immediately furrowed.

"hey... what's going on?"

so much, she wants to say. i feel like shit, i don't know what my purpose is, i've already got several warrants out for my arrest, and i just killed the only father figure i have left. i don't know what to do with myself, i'm barely sleeping, i'm barely eating.

"i think we should break up," is what comes out instead.

the color drains from your face almost immediately, and oh, does jinx hate the sight. looking at you right now might be one of the hardest things she's ever done, but..

"huh?" your voice is small, shaky. this is the last thing you'd expected, clearly. things were going so well, you reassured her after everything, what's the problem?

"i think we should... break up," she repeats. "i'm not good for you. you deserve somebody who is."

your first instinct is to reach out in an attempt to pull jinx into your arms, but she flinches away and shakes her head. her throat bobs as she swallows nervously, and takes a step back.

"jinx.. of course you're good for me," you whisper, almost taking on a pleading tone. "you make me so happy. you're loving, you're smart, you're funny, i feel like i can forget everything else when we're together. you're perfect for me."

"but i'm not," and her voice is getting a bit more aggressive, the same way you've seen her get when people lie to her, and you can't help but wonder if she thinks you're lying to her. even though you never would. "i'm not a good person. i've done horrible things. killed people, destroyed people's lives. you know that, and you're- you're still here, for some damn reason."

"i'm here because i love you," you whisper, voice breaking midway through. your eyes are filling with tears, the thought of your girlfriend leaving is unbearable. "i love you. you've only ever been good to me, and i know you've done things, but i see you, jinx. not for what you show others, but for who you are."

jinx just swallows back bitter tears, and steps back. once, then twice.

"i'm sorry," she whispers, her voice trembling. "i love you too. i'm doing this because i love you."

another moment, and she's gone.

you're not sure what to do in that instance- scream? cry? bolt down the apartment complex's hallways in hopes to find her and beg her to stay? but you don't do any of that, you only stand in the same spot, your gaze fixed on where your girlfriend- no, your ex, stood just a minute ago.

✧.*

jinx hasn't left her hideout in days.

she wants to, she knows that she should, logically. fresh air would serve her good, even if what zaun has barely qualifies as 'fresh.' she could go outside, blow song things up, get some spray paint and cause mayhem in piltover. anything to get her mind off of things, but she can't.

all that she's able to do is lay in her cot and stare, her only company her own thoughts. she hasn't cried once since she left, though maybe she wishes she could. it'd be better than constant deafening silence and not being able to move from one spot. the image of your face when she uttered those words- 'i think we should break up,' haunts her like no other.

she's dealt with a lot in this life. death, war, destruction. but the expression she saw that day, like she had ripped out your heart and stomped on it, breaks her. she made you feel like that. she did that to you.

so she'll try not to love you, even though it kills her inside. she'll try to put you out of her memory and pretend nothing happened, or that you're in the distant past at best.

she's bullshitting herself, and she knows it. but there's no better way to cope. and for the first time since that day, she feels tears welling in her eyes, hot and wet and- oh gods, they won't stop. she's trembling all of a sudden, her breath coming to her in ragged gasps.

it feels as though the world is closing in on her, a weight on jinx's chest that's absolutely crushing. you're gone. it hits her all at once, like she hasn't spent the past few days without you, but maybe part of her was hoping you'd come knocking.

but you didn't.

you're gone, and it's all her doing. you, the one who loved her fearlessly and desperately. stupid, failure, fuck-up, she tells herself.

��.*

all you've done is cry. you've cried and cried until you thought you might drown yourself in it, having to change your pillowcase at least once each evening. after everything you'd given jinx, why? you were the happiest version of yourself when you were her girlfriend.

her love was always unconventional, sure. but it was unabashed and fierce. the way that she loved you was all-consuming, like you could drown in it. the harder you fell for her at the beginning, the more it felt like the air was being sucked from your lungs- but you never wanted to rise above water. not for a second.

and now you've cried until you can't anymore. the most difficult part of all this might've been having to delete the countless photos of you both in your camera roll. ones where she's pressing her lips to your cheek, smiling with her arms wrapped around your waist, on your back after she insisted you carry her because 'it'll be fun.' the worst are the live photos, which you can't bear to replay.

but still, you have a life to lead. you have to pay rent somehow, so you drag your heels to work every day, mindlessly greeting customers. bussing tables, switching roles, taking orders, making the occasional drink or two. you did actually like this job at some point; decent pay, good coworkers, the only downside was shitty hours and having to deal with drunk customers. now, you're going through the motions. whatever will make ends meet.

clock in, do your tasks, clock out. walk back to your shitty apartment, take a shower, stand under the hot water until you can't bear it, then step out, get dressed, and go to bed. rinse, recycle, repeat.

you're beautiful, that much has always been clear. you're not exactly sought after, but there's the occasional comment- like when you're scrubbing a wine glass, trying not to think about losing the love of your life-

"hey, bartender," a woman calls from the side bar, and you immediately set down the glass, approaching the counter.

"anything i can do for you?" you ask, though less enthusiastic than you normally would. a young woman, probably around your age. she doesn't look too out of it, so this should be a relatively easy interaction.

"uh, yeah," she chuckles, leaning forward on her elbows. "a bottle of bacardi light please, and... your number."

a beat of silence- the woman is objectively pretty, she seems forward enough. she isn't drunk out of her mind like a lot of other customers on a friday night, she seems genuinely interested, but could she love you like jinx did?

nobody could.

"i'll get you that drink," you reply, trying to put on a polite smile. "but i like to keep that information private."

for all jinx knows, you could be chatting up some girl in a club right now. maybe you're at dinner with a woman right now, laughing over lit candles and red wine. another woman's lips on yours, the place where hers were for so long.

and this hypothetical woman- could you love her? is she pretty? she doesn't want to know.

✧.*

it's been a month and a half now, but jinx hasn't been able to throw away any of your gifts, or any of the things you left at her hideout.

they stare at her from her workbench, from under her bed, mocking her. reminding her of what she once had, but let go of and has no chance of getting back. she thought letting you go would make things better, she could eventually forget you and move on, but she's starting to realize that might never happen.

because of something she did, she left behind the best thing she ever had. even though you promised to stick by her side through absolutely everything. it was supposed to be you and jinx against the world, but now it feels as if you're a world away.

she shifts on the workbench, trying to focus on the task at hand. focus, jinx. focus. she's just reworking pow pow, giving it some upgrades, but she's already burned her fingertips more times than she'd like to admit... and forgot to turn on the blowtorch, and almost tripped over wires, and used the wrong screwdriver heads. truth is, the girl's mind is anywhere but on her work.

"oh, fuck me," she grumbles, slamming the tool down. her body trembles with each move she makes.

her mind is on your scent, your lips, the way your laughter made her heart contract, the sound of you saying her name. damn it, damn it all.

the more she thinks, though, it becomes apparent that she's grateful. below all of the self-loathing, she's glad she got to love you, even if she had to go and fuck it up. it's worth it, because she got to know your warmth for a time, and she wishes so badly that could be enough.

a card she used to open and read any time she felt down glares at her from the workbench, one you'd made for your six month anniversary.

"jinx,

it's been half a year with you. can you believe it? it feels like it's been so much shorter, because i always have so much fun with you. i don't think you realize how happy you make me, or how much i love you. i plan to spend the rest of our anniversaries showing you, though. happy six months ♡

-your trinket"

she hasn't opened it since, and now, the way it seems to shake her by the shoulders and scream "you had one shot," and "she must've already moved on." she can't help the yell that erupts from her chest, or the way she hastily sweeps everything off the workbench.

"fuck you, fuck you! shut up! i did what i had to!"

✧.*

it isn't often that jinx finds herself at the last drop these days. knowing that you're one of the top-performing bartenders has steered her away. while she used to come sit at the counter during your shifts, chatting away while you kept rounds of less-than-nutritious bar food coming, she steers clear now.

no matter how enticing the thought is, or how much she misses the place her childhood self once called a sanctuary, she doesn't go in.

except today, she can't help herself, it's a visceral need. she misses the run-down booths and idle chatter with 'chuck,' and she misses you.

despite the girl doing everything in her power to distract herself from the feeling and her love, she's found herself powerless. she's always been powerless when it comes to you.

the heavy doors swing open, and the smell of liquor is immediate. happy hour has just passed, but the troves of customers remain. laughter and chatter overlap to a sort of informal symphony, one she used to be comforted by.

jinx knows the place like the back of her hand now, and retreats to a middle booth. the drink menus are already laid out, but she isn't interested in any of that. she doesn't want a quick buzz or even some overpriced heated-up food, she just wants to be there. maybe catch a glance of your face. just one would be enough.

she's close enough to the bar, but not close enough to draw attention to herself. hopefully.

a host- a new hire, presumably, approaches the girl's table and quickly eyes her. "anything for you today?"

"...no, not today."

a packed saturday night probably wasn't the best way to clear her head, or even get to see you, now that she realizes the bar is full and you're likely going to be backed up on orders all shift. but at this point, where she knows she was just a damn fool for letting you go, she's desperate.

her appetite is gone and she hasn't been able to create things the way she used to. she needs you so desperately. every second she's spent away from you has felt like her body being slowly ripped in half. she'd follow you to the ends of runeterra if she meant she'd get a glimpse of your beauty once more. if you could hear the sound of her voice begging for you to let her just love you again.

then she hears it, the all too familiar ring of your laughter. jinx's head whips in the direction of the sound and she sees you conversing with a colleague, your arm raised like you're pouring a drink. she can't tell exactly, not with all of the patrons gathered around.

but you look happy. genuinely happy. she doesn't know how much you've cried over her or the fact you had to restrain yourself from calling her that morning, only that you're enjoying yourself. without her.

that sound that she used to hear every night at her place, now just a distant noise in a bar. though the second she sees your gaze turn toward her side of the seating area, she retreats back into the booth. don't get caught, jinx. she can't see you. she doesn't want to see you.

is this all the satisfaction she'll be able to get, watching you from your workplace while you move on with your life? seeing your face from rooms apart and pictures instead of holding it, kissing it? it's absolute torture, but there's no way she'll have any more than this.

she hears it again, a clear rustle of laughter followed by, "oh, you- stop! thieram's gonna kick our asses for that!"

it's clear as day, and it hurts. twists in her stomach. if only she could hear her name in that voice one more time, if only, if only, if only.

she'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loved her.

[fantasticfourthwingimagines]

Exactly What I Want Pairing - Bodhi Durran x Scribe!Reader Summary - When you hear about the Section Leader of Fourth Wing getting attacked, you have to sneak into the Rider's Quadrant to see if he's okay. Word Count - 3.4k Warning - SMUT, language, really fluffy. If you want a song to listen to while reading this, I recommend Shelter by Sleep Token!

In your almost three years at Basgaith, this might be one of the most reckless things you have ever done. Every step echoed with the risk of getting caught, your eyes flickered over your shoulder, waiting for someone to realize that you shouldn’t be here. Scribes weren’t allowed in the Riders’ Quadrant without express permission, much less their sleeping quarters, but you couldn’t wait. You pulled Bodhi’s flight jacket tighter around your frame as a group of Riders passed. They didn’t even spare you a glance. Was wearing a flight jacket all the camouflage you needed? 

Apparently so, because a minute later you were standing at Bodhi’s door, knocking softly, still checking the hallway like someone might sound an alarm. 

Then the door opened, and there he was. 

A breath slipped out, and the tightness in your chest eased. He was okay. 

Bodhi blinked, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing, and then he was beaming. That smile made your heart stutter. You still couldn’t believe that someone like him looked at you like that. There was so much warmth in his eyes, so much affection there that you felt unworthy. “Well,” he said, leaning against the doorframe, “look who’s breaking the rules now.” 

You glanced over your shoulder again, nerves still coiled tight in your stomach. “I - I heard some riders talking about the section leader of the fourth wing - how he got attacked. I had to make sure you were okay.” 

Bodhi’s face softened, and without another word, he pulled you inside. 

As soon as the door clicked shut, he wrapped you in his arms, and you melted. This was what you needed. The steady weight of his chest pressed against yours. The warmth of his skin under your fingertips. You were startled to realize something you hadn’t admitted before: your safe place wasn’t the Archives anymore. It was him. 

“You’re okay?” You mumbled into his chest, your arms wrapping tight around him. 

“Other guy is much worse off, I promise.” He kissed the top of your head. 

You stayed quiet for a moment, letting his touch reassure you. He didn’t seem to mind, his hand moving up and down your back, grounding you. Finally, you managed to speak the words that you had been thinking about for weeks. “I feel helpless Bodhi.” 

He pulled back, and caught your gaze. “What do you mean?” 

You bit your lip. “You’re constantly putting your life at risk, trying your best to help the helpless, and I love that about you so much.” Your hand slid up over his chest, over the steady beat of his heart. “Meanwhile I’m stuck in the Archives helping cover up lies that are undermining everything you’re trying to do. I hate it.” Your fingers curled in his shirt, holding on like it was the only way to keep from breaking. 

Bodhi’s hand slid lower along your back, pulling you more firmly against him. “You’re doing everything you can.” He tried to reassure you. 

“I’m doing nothing! You could get yourself killed at any moment, and I can’t stop it. I’m not even helping.” Your fingers brushed over the purple bruise on his jaw, frowning at the sight. 

Bodhi caught your hand and held it to his cheek, leaning into the touch. “I swear to you, the moment there’s something you can do I’ll bring you into it, but right now-”

“There’s nothing,” you finished for him, the bitterness slipping through before you could stop it. 

Bodhi turned into your palm, his eyes slipping closed as he pressed a kiss there. “No, there’s something you can do, but you’re already doing it.” 

What? Your brow furrowed as you tried to figure out what he was talking about, but your mind kept coming up blank. You weren’t doing anything to help the rebellion, or revolution as they preferred to call it. “I’m not doing anything, Bodhi, that’s the problem.” You reminded him. 

He shook his head, giving you another one of those smiles that made your knees go weak every time. “You’re giving me something to fight for. A reason to try and make this place better instead of burning it to the ground for what they’ve done. For what they’re still doing.” He brushed his thumb across your hand.

If you didn’t already love this man with every piece of yourself, this might’ve sealed it. You couldn’t think of a single thing you had done to deserve him, or the devotion in his voice. But you had him, and if you had anything to say about it, you were never letting him go. “How do you always know what to say?” You asked, unable to stop the smile tugging at your lips. 

“Unlike my cousin,” he said, pulling your arm around his shoulders so he could nuzzle into your neck, “I find being honest is what helps you get and keep the girl.” Then he pressed a soft kiss to your skin. 

Your eyes fluttered shut, a soft sound escaping your lips. “It’s definitely one of the reasons I love you so much.” You whispered. 

His arms tightened around you, a pleased hum rising from his chest. “I love when you say that.” He murmured against your skin, his lips trailing to a sensitive spot on your neck that had your fingers digging into his skin. 

It took you a moment to respond, your thoughts hazy beneath the warmth of his mouth. “That I love you?” 

“Mhmm.” Bodhi’s lips wandered lower, brushing the edge of his flight jacket. “Love being reminded that the person I love . . . loves me back.” 

The realization hit you all at once. You were wasting time. You’d spent so long being nervous that you weren’t going to be good at it, or that you’d do something wrong, and it would ruin what the two of you had, but . . . you loved him, and Bodhi loved you. That wasn’t going to change.

There was only one more thing left to trust him with. 

Your fingers slipped into his curls as you drew in a breath. “Bodhi?”

“Mhmm?” He said, still far too focused on the excellent work he was doing with his lips. 

“I’m ready.” You said before you could overthink it. 

He stilled, and you knew he understood what you meant. Bodhi pulled back enough to meet your eyes, searching for even a flicker of doubt. “Are you sure? You know I’ll wait as long as you need to.” 

You smiled, soft and certain. “I know. That’s why I’m ready.” 

Bodhi’s eyes warmed with affection - and mischief. “Then I guess this is the part where I start taking off your clothes,” he said, voice low, “but I’ve got a bit of a problem.” 

A flicker of uncertainty tightened in your chest. Did he . . . not want to take off your clothes? “What?” 

Bodhi’s arms slid down from your waist, and you bit your lip as they landed on your ass. “I really fucking love how you look in my flight jacket.” 

Whatever flicker of insecurity you felt vanished. You shook your head at him with a smile, and pushed him backwards until he was sitting on his bed. His hands stayed on your ass, but you slipped the jacket off, your shirt following moments later. 

He swallowed hard, his eyes tracing every inch of exposed skin as if to memorize it. Shivers danced down your spine as he pulled you between his thighs. “Okay I changed my mind.” He breathed. “You’re fucking gorgeous without my flight jacket.” 

A little laugh left your lips that turned to a gasp as Bodhi grabbed you and pulled you onto his bed, rolling so he was on top of you. He braced himself on his elbows, and reached out to brush some hair from your face. “Are you sure about this?” He asked again, quieter this time. 

“I’m sure.” You said without a second of doubt. “I want you, Bodhi. All of you.” You meant it. Every piece of him that he was willing to give, you wanted it. In return, you’d give him everything you had. He’d earned that. He had earned your heart, your trust, and your love.

Something in your eyes made him smile, and he leaned down to kiss your cheek, lowering his body to press against yours. “You’re going to tell me if I need to stop, right?” 

You nodded, but based on previous experience, you didn’t think you were going to have to do that. 

His lips left a trail from your cheek across your jaw, then down the length of your throat. 

You closed your eyes, surrendering to the heat blooming beneath every place he touched until he stopped at the band around your breasts. “Can I?” You heard him ask. 

“Yes,” you breathed, wanting nothing more in that moment than for him to remove the band, and put those soft, full lips on you. 

Bodhi didn’t hesitate, sliding it up and off of you, then immediately bringing his mouth around your nipple.

Pleasure sparked down your spine, and you arched into him, your fingers sliding up to tangle in his thick, dark hair, attempting to hold him there. You let out a whimper as his other hand reached up to play with your neglected breast. Gods it felt so good. Bodhi knew exactly what to do to set your whole body on fire, and instead of the anxiety you were afraid you were going to feel, all you wanted was more. “Please take your shirt off.” You murmured, surprising yourself. 

Bodhi sat up, seemingly surprised as well, but grinned down at you as he slipped his shirt off over his head, tossing it in the room somewhere behind him. 

You’d seen him shirtless, but somehow your brain forgot how stunning he was each time. Your hands roamed over the hard lines of his chest, down the ridges of his abs, marveling at how his muscles tensed beneath your touch. His skin was smooth, sun-warmed, but here and there, your fingers brushed over scars. 

You wanted to kiss every single one. 

His hand found yours right at the edge of his pants. He held it, and laced his fingers through yours. “You’ve got to stop looking at me like that.” 

“Why?” You asked, bringing your gaze back up to him. 

He lifted your joined hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles before pinning your hand beside you. “Because I want to take my time with you.” He said, voice husky as he pressed a kiss low on your stomach. “And that look . . . it’s about three seconds from making me lose every shred of self-control I’ve got.” 

You slipped your hands back in his hair, giving him a soft smile. “I can’t help the way I look at you.” 

Bodhi’s lips trailed further down your stomach, stopping above your waistband where his hands took over, sliding your pants and underwear right down your hips and to the floor somewhere behind you. “Guess I’ll just have to make it where you can’t keep your eyes open.” He said, slipping your legs over his shoulders. 

“What do you mean - oh. Oh!” Your hips arched off the bed as his tongue slid up your slit and his lips wrapped around your clit. 

Bodhi had gone down on you, several times in fact, but there was something different this time. Maybe it was that you both knew what this was leading to, or maybe he’d been holding back on you. Either way, the man’s tongue moved with no hesitations and an expert technique that had you making noises that you were only slightly embarrassed by. By the time he slid two fingers inside of you, he was having to hold you down with an arm to your hips. Then he curled his fingers and you practically yanked his hair out. “Bodhi!” 

You could feel him chuckle against you for a moment, pressing a quick kiss to your inner thigh before his lips and tongue went back to work. 

Gods you’d never felt an orgasm build up so fast, but the tension in your lower stomach was undeniable. You were dangling over the precipice, seconds from exploding. “Bodhi, I’m about to-” Your words cut off with a loud moan as he curled his fingers once again, but you held on, right at the edge of intense pleasure. 

Bodhi pulled his mouth off you, but kept his fingers thrusting in and out of you at a lazy pace. “Let go baby.” He said, and you whined as he pressed a few soft kisses to your thighs. “I’ve got you.” He promised, and without another word, brought his mouth back around you, pressing his tongue right against your clit with the perfect amount of pressure. 

You went stumbling straight over the cliff, your eyes closed as warmth flooded your whole body. You couldn’t think; you barely remembered to breathe as white hot pleasure exploded in a wave that took you under. 

Bodhi worked you through it, only pulling off of you when your breathing had returned to normal. “I’m never going to get sick of this view.” He murmured as he kissed his way back up your body. 

“And I’m never going to get sick of you doing that.” You murmured, slipping your hands around his neck and into his hair. He pressed a brief, sweet kiss against your lips. “Mhmm, now take off the rest of your clothes.” 

He chuckled, but reached down to unbutton and slide off his pants and underwear. “You’re being demanding tonight. I think I like it.” 

You usually weren’t, due to your lack of experience, but being with Bodhi put you at such an ease that you felt safe to ask for what you wanted. At the realization, a soft smile formed on your face. “I guess I’m just tired of waiting to find out what it feels like to have you inside of me.” 

His smile was affectionate as he settled back between your thighs. He rested on his palms, keeping his weight off of you, biting his lip as he looked down at you. “This is your last chance to back out if you don’t want this, because once I’m inside you, I don’t think I’m going to be able to stop.” He admitted. 

You knew he would though, if you asked him too, but you couldn’t imagine a single situation where you would want him too. “I want you. All of you.” You slid your hand down his chest and gripped him, brushing your thumb across the head of his cock and spreading the wetness you found there. 

His whole body tensed at your touch, and he leaned down to meet your lips in a sweet kiss as he lowered his hips against yours. 

You guided him right where you wanted him, then let go, letting him be in charge of the pace as he slid inside of you. Your hands slid up to his shoulders, digging into the skin as he continued to push. Gods he felt incredible. It was like he was made to fit perfectly inside your body. Every new inch he pressed in had your heart rate skyrocketing until he bottomed out. You’d never felt so full, and a moan left your lips as Bodhi began pressing kisses against your neck. 

“You okay, baby?” He asked between kisses, his hand rubbing soothing circles into your hip. 

“Mhmm, you feel so good.” You told him, arching your hips up into him and letting out another moan at the friction it created. 

“You feel even better than I imagined.” Bodhi murmured against your skin, and let out a groan as you rolled your hips against him. “Gods.” He slid partially out of you, then back in, this time meeting your lips with a kiss when he did. 

It was slow and sexy, and when you parted your lips, his tongue moved in time with his hips, heightening the pleasure coursing through your body. The sensations were overwhelming and beautiful. You’d never experienced anything so intense. You’d also never had sex with someone you loved before either though. You felt like it made this moment a million times better. 

He slid his hand down from your hip to your thigh, hiking it up around his hip. As soon as he did, he was hitting a new angle, deeper, and you cried out his name in surprise. It didn’t make him pause, in fact he sped up his pace, rocking into you even faster as you lifted your other leg to join the first around his hips. 

The way he moved inside you built pleasure faster than you would have ever thought possible. Everything about this moment seemed to amplify it; the way Bodhi had looked into your eyes with nothing but love and desire, the sounds your bodies made every time they met, the dark, smoky scent that clung to his skin, the taste of yourself on his tongue, the way every drag of his cock gave the perfect friction for you. 

When he pulled away, your lips followed him, wanting more, but he trailed his lips across your skin. “You’re so fucking perfect. I’m not going to last as long as I want to.” Bodhi admitted. 

Thank Dunne, because you knew you weren’t going to be able to last much longer either. He felt too damn good. “It’s okay,” you panted, still breathless from his kiss. “We’ve got time.” You told him, brushing one of your hands through his hair so you could see his beautiful face better. 

At least you prayed that you did. 

The words made Bodhi lean down and kiss you again, capturing your gasp as he thrust into you hard, sending a stab of pleasure through you so intense that you clenched around him. “Fuck, love you so much.” He groaned against your lips, his hand tightening around you hard enough you were sure it was going to leave a bruise. 

“I love you too, Bod-Bodhi!” If anyone was outside his door, they definitely heard you yell his name, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as his lips traveled to your breast and he sucked your nipple into his mouth. Oh gods it was too much. It felt so good it overwhelmed all your senses, and all you could focus on was the heat rising in your stomach. You could feel yourself teetering right over the edge of an abyss of pleasure, and desperate for it, you started moving your hips in time with his as best you could, clenching down on him every time he thrust inside you. 

He made the sexiest groan you’d ever heard in your life, and let his teeth scrape across your nipple with a hard thrust that hit a spot inside of you that sent you over the edge. 

You called out his name as it consumed you, your hands tightening into fists into his hair, and you felt yourself pulse around him. You had no thoughts, no feelings except how damn good this felt. 

When the feeling finally started to dim, you heard Bodhi cursing, still thrusting into you, once, twice, and then letting out a grunt as he released inside of you, the tension in his body slowly leaving as he eased himself down on top of you. 

Gods, why had you waited so long to do this with him? One of the dumbest decisions of your life. You let your fists unclench, your fingers sliding into his soft hair as your breathing evened out. A satisfied smile curved your lips as Bodhi began pressing featherlight kisses along your neck. 

“You know,” Bodhi murmured against your skin, “I think we have a problem.” 

You frowned, confused. A problem? After that? You’d never felt more amazing in your life. “What?” You asked cautiously. 

He looked up, catching your expression, and gave you a smile so adorable it nearly knocked the breath out of you. “I don’t think I can go a full day without this now.” You giggled as he gripped your hips and rolled you on top of him, his grin full of playful mischief. “I think my limit’s more like twelve hours. Maybe less.” 

“You’re ridiculous, Bodhi Durran.” You said, grinning as you leaned down to nip at his bottom lip. 

“For you?” He said, voice low and smug. “Absolutely.”

[rio-ava]

CALL ME ANYTIME - Natasha x Fem!Reader Fic

I hope you enjoy this part, I might write a third part tomorrow.. I’ll try to finish the series before May 24 when my summer job starts up!

Also - this does not follow any exact Avengers movie timeline, much to probably a lot of you guys’ dismay. Sorry lol, I just don't have the bandwidth to pay that much attention to which characters were introduced when, especially when I want post-Loki x NYC Nat, but also want Wanda in the mix!

Warnings: Minor descriptions of violence/injury (this is a slowburn)

Word Count: 2708

-------------------------------------

Part Two:

Three weeks had passed in what felt like an instant. You hadn’t expected time to move so quickly at the Avengers Tower, but somehow, days bled into each other with a strange kind of rhythm. If you could call it that. Mornings began with pre-dawn runs in the gym, followed by Wanda insisting on making you pancakes—an act that felt too kind for someone who could bend reality. Then came long hours of shadowing and debriefing the team, trying to untangle the web of motivations behind every press release. Dinner was a quiet ritual, usually shared with Bruce or Wanda, before collapsing into bed only to wake up and do it all again.

It was repetitive, sure. But in the kind of way that begins to feel safe. You were starting to find your footing in a world where gods and assassins mingled like coworkers on casual Friday. Even Tony had started to throw sarcastic remarks your way, ones you were learning to volley right back with a smirk. You were learning the rules here, playing the part.

Well. Almost.

The one thing—no, the one person—you couldn’t quite seem to figure out was Natasha.

Or, Nat. You could technically call her that now. You’d said it out loud once or twice. But every time her name even crossed your mind, your heart did this strange twist that made speaking feel like trying to breathe underwater.

You saw her only a handful of times a day. In the gym, always early, always focused. In passing through the halls. Occasionally during missions or briefings. But each time, the world seemed to shrink down to the sound of her voice, the way her shoulders moved when she threw a punch, the impossible softness of her mouth contrasted with the sharp glint of her eyes.

You were so painfully aware of her. And you were convinced she could feel it.

Your crush—infatuation, really—had begun to fray at the edges of subtlety. Wanda gave you knowing looks. Clint had started teasing you, though gently. Even Steve, oblivious as he could be, had once commented that you seemed “a little flustered around Romanoff.”

But the moment everything shifted was during your second week. You had been invited to sit in on a strategy meeting to better understand mission timelines and press preparedness. Tony insisted that knowing the rhythm of battle would help you keep ahead of public fallout. What he didn’t mention was how hard it would be to focus with Natasha sitting directly across from you.

She was still as stone for most of the meeting, eyes flicking from person to person, absorbing everything. But you noticed every tick. The small upward curve of her mouth when someone joked about Steve’s outdated vocabulary. The way she toyed with her hair, wrapped the end around her finger before biting her lip in thought.

Then came Tony’s comment. Something about everyone needing to run their media requests through you. Standard protocol.

And that was when Natasha looked up, squarely at you, and made a dry, precise remark referencing one of your recent memos. It was a critique—no, maybe a compliment—but delivered with the finesse of a blade. Short, sharp, calculated.

You nodded along, pretending you were okay, while your mind spiraled. Was she undermining you? Testing you? Acknowledging your work?

When the meeting ended and everyone began to file out, you were still rooted in place, unraveling her tone like it held a secret code. Natasha passed behind your chair, her hand brushing the back of your neck in what could have been accidental—except it didn’t feel like one. You turned instinctively and met her eyes just in time to catch a wink.

“Sorry,” she said, smirking. “Didn’t see your chair there.”

Tony strolled past, clapping a hand on your shoulder. “You did good, kid. Even Nat thought so. That’s rare.”

You weren’t sure what to feel. Flattered? Confused? Seen? Or maybe just exposed.

The following days were a blur of confusion and growing nerves. Natasha’s presence lingered like a ghost in every room you entered. You caught glimpses of her in the gym, more often than not sweaty and radiant and utterly distracting. One morning, exhausted from an early PR crisis Thor had unwittingly triggered, you stumbled into the gym at 4:30 a.m. only to find her already there, mid-workout.

You turned to leave, hoping to escape unnoticed, when her voice stopped you in your tracks.

“You’re already here,” she said, leaning casually against the wall by the weights. “Might as well stay.”

You turned around slowly. She looked like sin incarnate—skin glowing, muscles taut, the ghost of a smile playing at her lips. You swallowed hard and nodded.

After some time, she motioned for you to come where she was.

You followed, even though you shouldn’t. She stepped into your space like it was nothing, like you didn’t wake up thinking about her and hate yourself for it. She muttered something about working on your positioning when lifting weights.

She adjusted your stance. Fingers pressed to your side and then your arm as you lifted a weight up.

She walked a ways away as you continued on with her corrections. After finishing a set of twelve, you turned towards her when what she said next brought an unexplainable heat to your entire body. 

“Good girl.”

You flinched.

And that was when it happened—the moment you broke. You stepped back, fast, too fast. The shift in weight caught you off balance and you stumbled, dropping the dumbbell from your other hand. It clanged hard against the floor and pain bloomed in your foot.

“Shit,” you hissed, stumbling toward the bench.

She was there instantly. “Sit down.”

She said nothing after that, and then disappeared. You thought she had just left.

But she returned moments later with an ice pack and a medkit.

She knelt again and gently placed the cold pack against your foot, her fingers brushing against your skin in a way that made your breath hitch. Then, quietly, without looking up, she murmured,

“You watch people too much, pay too much attention to me, I think, and yet, you also can’t seem to pay enough attention to yourself.”

You blinked at her, unsure whether it was a scolding or something more. It seems like she had just hit the mark on your entire past few weeks here.

Before you could speak, she finished wrapping your foot and stood.

“Lucky it’s just a bruise. Try to stay off it for a few days. I’ll walk you back, and I’ll tell Tony you aren’t working today.”

You protested, of course. “I can still work. It’s not that bad. Besides, my job doesn’t exactly involve fieldwork.”

She raised an eyebrow, almost amused. “You’re taking the day off. Don’t fight me on this. And for the record—you’ve worked nine days straight. You deserve a break.”

There was something in her voice—almost soft, almost something else.

You nodded, defeated and aching, and leaned against her as she helped you to the elevator. The weight of her arm around your waist felt unreal, like a fever dream. In the elevator, you looked at her and whispered, “Thank you, Natasha. I can’t believe I did something so stupid.”

She chuckled and leaned back.

“I’ve told you—call me Nat. You’re one of the lucky ones, remember?”

She gave you a wink, and added, “And don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me.”

Before you could even begin to respond, the elevator doors opened—and there stood the rest of the Avengers, gathered for breakfast. Nat passed you off to Wanda without a word, and you were ushered back to your room.

That day was spent in pajamas, eating ice cream with Wanda and watching Arrested Development. You laughed harder than you had in weeks.

A few days pass, full of passing glances from Nat, but still the same kind of distance that had been present most of your time here. But even though you aren’t directly interacting with Nat as much since your gym mishap, everytime you and her are in the same room you can feel her eyes on you.

You were helping Clint with a small organizing task as he explained what happened on the most recent mission, when he brings up Nat and everything she took part in during it. After explaining that, you turn to Clint and ask,

“I hope you don’t mind, but is Nat this distant with everyone? I feel like.. She’s always just watching from a distance.. I don't know, I just don’t know if I have done anything to offend her.”

Clint looks up at you, and offers the most vague, but still comforting insight possible, saying, “She’s not distant. She's just careful. And, hey, if she's watching you, it definitely means something.”

The hope that enters your heart is like a slow acting poison, slowly infecting your heart with doubt alongside it. What if what it means is that she doesn’t think you’re worthy of being here? Or what if she's truly grasped the level of your crush and thinks you're crazy? You finish your task with Clint, not knowing whether or not to feel good about what he told you.

It’s a few days after your encounter with Clint, and it is officially your three week mark of working here. It’s around 11:15 pm, and you're sitting on your table in your living space with your back to the door re–writing a draft for a memo about the one and only, Natasha Romanoff. So far, you’re at a little bit of a writer's block. All that you have on the page, is the intro, and then different variants of Natashas name. Natasha Romanoff, Black Widow, Natasha, Nat. When you finally reach the moment you want to give up, you hear a knock on your door. Without even thinking to close your laptop, you saunter over to the door assuming its just Thor forgetting that regular humans try to follow a regular sleeping schedule. 

Opening the door wide, ready to explain this sentiment to Thor for the sixth time, you are surprised to see Natasha leaning against the door frame. What surprises you even more is what she is wearing. You have yet to see her in anything other than her normal day to day attire - and you wouldn’t have guessed but somehow her in just an oversized white crop top, and grey sweatpants was a life altering sight. You swore she could have walked a red carpet in just that and would’ve won the award for best dressed, or hottest, or something along those lines. After you gather yourself, you turn to Natasha with surprise written across your face.

“Hey, what’s up? Can I help you with anything?’

She looks at you, sucks on the inside of her cheek, before saying, “I just wanted to drop off this mission transcript before I forgot to.”

You look at her, realizing that before this, every single mission transcript she had emailed over. What makes tonight so special? There’s a strange silence between the two of you, not so much uncomfortable as just strange. Before it can go any longer, you invite her in.

She walks in just fast enough to put the file down on the table, before glancing over at your computer screen that you so stupidly forgot to close. She lets out a small, nearly inaudible scoff and smirk, and walks up to you, still stuck at the door, and with a voice that's soft yet loaded, says,

“Careful how you tell my story,” with a gesture to your laptop. “Goodnight, superstar.” 

Just as quickly as she came, she was gone. With her exit, and the pet name still sitting in the air of the room, you are left absolutely wrecked. You walk back to the table, slam the laptop closed, before collapsing head first into your bed. What is with her?

The next morning, you wake up and head to the table to read the mission file she gave you, when your eyes hit a purple sticky note stuck to the last page of the packet. On the note, Natasha had written, “Careful who you look at like that, we wouldn’t want you hurting yourself again.” 

You sit with the note, re-reading it over and over again, trying to interpret any hidden message, or maybe even just memorize the way gher handwriting lazily but elegantly swiped across the note. 

—---------------------------------------------------

But this softness, this flirty and easygoingness didn’t seem to last.

A few days later, Tony scheduled a fieldwork simulation—just some basic training for newer Tower residents. You weren’t exactly thrilled, but you were game. What you weren’t prepared for was Nat treating the exercise like a real mission. Every mistake you made was met with a stern comment. Every failed strike earned a glare.

After one particularly sloppy move, she pulled you aside and muttered, “If you want to survive here, you need to stop acting like a fan of us, you have to start acting like one of us.”

Her words hit like a punch to the chest. You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. You just avoided her for days afterward, unsure whether you were hurt or just humiliated. Still, she was always there, watching. Never speaking. But always watching. During team movie nights, strategy meetings, gym runs, everything. Careful not to break the seemingly necessary amount of distance, but not so much that she couldn’t keep an eye on you. 

Then came one of Tony’s infamous parties. Loud, glamorous, filled with people you didn’t know and didn’t care to meet. During the night, after ordering a couple drinks from Natasha herself, you decide to move on from this whole little crush. You end up sitting in the corner with a perfectly fine looking brunette, but still staring daggers at Natasha. It's like she’s seamlessly perfect at everything. Her movements are perfectly timed and smooth, and she smiles and greets everyone who passes her easily.

You still sat in that corner for 20 minutes with a drink and a woman whose name you couldn’t remember. She was nice enough, but your eyes kept drifting to the bar where Nat stood, pouring drinks like it was second nature. She smiled easily at everyone, except you. When she finally met your gaze, her expression shifted. After a searing level of eye contact, her gaze shifted to the brunette, and then back to you before she walked over to Tony. 

You didn’t know what to call it the shift. But whatever it was, it made her leave.

You left not long after, heart thrumming in your chest, full of guilt for not remembering the brunette’s name, but mostly tangled in the mess of your feelings for Natasha.

At 3:30 a.m., you padded down the hall in search of water. And like fate laughing in your face, you turned the corner and bumped into her.

You tried to walk past. She grabbed your wrist. You looked up, taking note of how close you actually were to Natasha. You were looking up at her, and could practically feel her breath fanning against your face as she looked back down at you. Her grip was stronger than her stare.

You finally built some courage, and looked up at her. 

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper. “The looks, the comments, the coldness... why are you playing with me?”

Natasha tilted her head, unreadable. “If I were playing, you’d know.”

You pulled your arm back, heart in your throat, but she stopped you again.

“I’m sorry about training,” she said. “I just... worry you might end up in something you’re not ready for.”

Then she walked away, leaving you stunned and leaning against the wall.

You stayed there for a long time, trying to piece it all together.

You weren’t sure what hurt more—the moments when she was close enough to touch, or the ones where she stayed just out of reach.

But one thing was certain.

Natasha Romanoff was going to be the death of you.

[siilent-wanderer]

Flowers and Firsts

Wonyoung alt ending of Halfway to Something

Word Count: 1.2k words

Jang Wonyoung x fem!reader x Jang Daah

The event had gone better than expected. Y/N gave her speech, rallied the crowd, stood tall for the org she’s worked so hard for. Applause still rings in her ears, though the auditorium is mostly empty now.

Y/N’s slipping out of her heels backstage, trying to get rid of the tightness in her calves, when someone taps her shoulder.

She turns and there she is.

Wonyoung, with her hair tucked neatly behind her ears, still in her neat white blouse and dark jeans. She’s holding a small bouquet of daisies and lavender.

“You—”

She smiles, already knowing what Y/N was about to say. “I waited. Thought you might need something soft after tonight.”

Y/N accepts the flowers, eyes dipping to the handwritten note tucked in the ribbon: You did so well, Y/N. Proud of you, always. –W.

“Thank you,” she murmurs.

But Wonyoung doesn't leave. In fact, she steps a little closer. Her fingers play with the hem of her sleeve, a rare sign of nerves from someone so usually composed.

“I meant every word in that card,” she says softly. “You’re amazing, Y/N. You make everything look effortless — even when I know how much pressure you’re under. You’re smart, you’re kind, you care about people even when they don’t give back.”

Y/N opens her mouth, but Wonyoung’s still going.

“I didn’t want to say anything while things were messy. While I wasn’t sure what you wanted. But if it wasn’t obvious, I’ve liked you for a while, and I figured if I didn’t say it now, someone else might.”

Someone else might.

“I’m not saying you have to pick me. I just want you to know that if you do…” Her voice lowers. “I’ll make sure you always feel safe with me. Always feel chosen.”

Y/N looks down at the flowers again, then back at her.

And suddenly, everything feels very, very still.

“I choose you, Wony,” Y/N says quietly.

The younger Jang blinks, once. Then twice. Then she breaks into that smile — the one she rarely shows anyone. It’s not perfect or poised; it’s just real.

And when she hugs her — arms warm, steady, a little trembling — Y/N realizes: maybe love doesn’t have to be dramatic or loud. Maybe it’s just this.

Someone waiting for her at the end of the stage. Someone holding flowers. Someone who chose her first, and would do it all over again.

Wonyoung doesn’t let go immediately.

Instead, she rests her chin lightly on Y/N’s shoulder, arms still around her as if she’s afraid that moving too soon might shatter the moment. And Y/N holds her just as tightly.

Then she feels Wonyoung breathe out — like she’s been holding it in for weeks. Maybe even longer.

“You really mean it?” she asks, so softly once could almost miss it.

Y/N leans back just enough to see her face. “Yeah. I mean it.”

Wonyoung blinks hard. Then lets out a small laugh — a mixture of relief and disbelief.

“I thought I’d lost you,” she says. “That every time I tried to get closer, I was just… too late.”

“You weren’t,” Y/N says. “I was just scared. I didn’t know how to be fair to both of you.”

Wonyoung nods slowly, her eyes glimmering. “And Daah unnie…?”

Y/N pauses. “She’ll understand, right? We’ll talk.”

Something flickers in the younger Jang’s expression — part guilt, part ache — but she swallows it down.

“I don’t want this to break what you have with her,” Y/N adds gently.

Wonyoung exhales. “It won’t. We’ll be okay. She’s stronger than she looks.”

Y/N nods, and a quiet settles between the both of them before Y/N pulls away to face the problem she’s been fearing most.

Daah doesn’t go to the celebration dinner.

She climbs the fire exit ladder instead, the way she always does when she needs air. Or space. Or silence.

The sounds of the event still echo faintly below — laughter, cheers, someone’s Spotify playlist. But she tunes it all out.

She already knows.

She’d seen them. From a distance. Y/N, with the flowers in her hand. Wonyoung, with her eyes full of something she hadn’t seen in her in a long time. The kind of gaze people usually save for once-in-a-lifetime moments.

Daah hadn’t stayed long enough to see what followed. She didn’t need to.

She’d always known her sister loved deeply — but when she saw the way Wonyoung looked at Y/N, she realized just how deeply. So, she leans against the railing now, hoodie up, hands in her pockets, and lets the wind bite her a little.

The door opens behind her, but she doesn’t have to turn around to know who it is.

“Unnie…”

“Hey.” Her voice is casual. Too casual.

Y/N steps closer, quiet on her feet. “You left early.”

“Didn’t feel like seeing everyone drunk off chicken wings and fruit punch,” she says with a shrug. “How’d it go?”

Y/N hesitates, but says it anyway, “Wonyoung and I talked.”

Daah nods once. “I figured.”

Silence stretches between them, not quite awkward but not peaceful either.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N says, voice gentle. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Y/N.” Daah finally looks at her. And when she does, there’s no malice. No bitterness. Just a soft, tired acceptance. “You don’t have to apologize for choosing someone.”

Y/N bites her lip. “Still… I don’t want things to be weird. I still want to be your friend. If you’re okay with that.”

There’s a beat. Then another.

Daah turns back to the skyline. “You’re the kind of person people can’t help but fall for,” she says quietly. “You made me forget I had a guard up. That doesn’t happen often.”

Y/N’s heart squeezes at her words.

“But yeah,” she adds after a moment. “I’d still like to be your friend. Just give me a few days to recalibrate my brain.”

Y/N chuckles, sad and grateful all at once. “Deal.”

Daah finally smiles — not wide, not bright, but still genuine.

In that moment, something shifts. Not an ending, exactly. Just a redirection. A quiet promise of peace between them.

One semester later

It’s another university fair. Different year, new members, but the same energy — tents lining the quad, org booths decorated with excessive glitter, half-finished signages fluttering in the wind.

Y/N’s helping tie up the student volunteer banner when she hears her name called.

“Hey, lover! Zip ties?”

Wonyoung appears beside her, already holding up two rolls with a grin.

They’ve been together for six months now. It’s a quiet kind of love — steady, playful, soft at the edges but deeply rooted. They know each other’s schedules by heart. Wonyoung always brings an extra umbrella. Y/N always keeps an extra charger in her bag. Small things. Shared rhythms.

“Need help?” someone says behind them.

They turn and there’s Daah, clipboard in hand, a faint smirk on her lips. Her hair’s shorter now. She looks lighter, somehow.

“Hey,” Y/N says, surprised but genuinely glad.

Daah nods. “I’m handling safety checks. Of course I’d be here. Still the responsible sibling.”

Wonyoung rolls her eyes. “Says the one who almost set off the fire alarm with that electric kettle last week.”

Daah scoffs. “You’ll never let that go.”

Y/N laughs, and for a moment, it feels like balance again.

They still don’t talk about what happened. Not in detail. But there’s no more ache when their eyes meet. No more weight in the silences.

Just a quiet understanding.

When Wonyoung later tugs Y/N away to share takoyaki on the curb, Daah watches from across the lot — then turns back to her checklist with a soft exhale.

She’s fine. Really.

And when she glances over one last time, it’s not sadness in her eyes.

It’s peace.

Rain and Realizations

[wayiiseetheworld]

a birthday conversation

Summary: Aila's birthday is coming up. Jack and her talk about plans for it. Part two coming.

Warnings: Jack Abbot x OC!Wife. Established relationship. Age gap marriage. Domestic Fluff. Romantic Fluff.

Word Count: 717

Author Note: I am obsessed with Jack Abbot, and The Pitt. Slowly going to post my stories from A03 on here. || Not my gif.

A03 Link | Masterlist

The soft glow of the morning, a little before eight am, sun seeped through the curtains, casting a warm light across the cozy living room. The TV is paused on one of her reality shows she watches when Jack is working. Jack stepped through the front door, the tiredness from a long day at work melting away as he was greeted by the familiar scents of home. On the plush couch, Aila lounge comfortably, her legs tucked under her, her broken elbow propped up by a pillow that’s borrowed from their bedroom, a glass of red wine is in her good hand and a cold beer in a pint glass resting on the side table  She looked up and offered him a gentle smile.

"Hey, griz." She greeted softly, setting down her drink as Jack dropped his keys on the table and sank onto the couch beside her, grabbing the pint glass from the side table.

"Hey, sunshine," Jack said softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"Long day?" she asked, noticing the tired look on his face.

Jack let out a sigh, shrugging slightly, his smile tinged with fatigue. "Yeah, you could say that. But coming home to you and an ice-cold beer makes it all worth it." He draped his arm casually over the back of the couch.

“Pot Pies are in the oven. Should be done in the next twenty minutes.” She chuckled, leaning into his touch. "I'm really glad you're home. I missed you."

Jack’s expression softened into a warm smile. “I missed you too. I know being off work because of your elbow is pretty boring, and being stuck at home isn’t much fun. But it’s only a few more weeks…”

Aila nodded, her gaze contemplative. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been trying to figure out what to do for now since I’m not going back to the bar.” She hesitated slightly. She knew he didn’t want her to go back to the bar, she almost died in the alley. It scared her, she knew it scared him, recalling what she’d overheard at the hospital after her surgery.

Jack took a breath, then offered gently, “My friend who owns the veteran bar still needs a head bartender. He said the job’s yours. It's a safe gig, and it’s only a block and a half from the hospital.” He paused, giving her a reassuring look. “No pressure, but I thought it might be something you’d want to consider. I mean, I would like it if you take that job.”

She would probably accept the job, he thought silently, feeling hopeful. 

To shift the conversation, Jack cleared his throat and smiled softly. "So, your birthday’s coming up soon, only two weeks away." He paused, then added with a playful grin, "I already got your present, so no peeking." 

Aila raised an eyebrow, amused. 

Jack continued, his tone turning a little more serious. "And I’ve officially been notified that I’ll have the whole day off, well, forty-eight hours, actually. No work, no interruptions." He looked at her with a gentle spark in his eyes. "But what I really want to know is, is there anything special you’d like to do that day? Anything you’re hoping for?"

Aila paused, lost in thought for a moment, then shook her head softly. "Honestly, Jack, all I want is this, just a day at home with you. Maybe a little spa session, drinks flowing all day, watching some romcoms? The Red Velvet cake from the bakery downtown - what is it called, Sweet Street? And maybe you can whip up your famous steak? We haven’t had steak in so long." A faint blush crept onto her cheeks. "Is that too much to ask? I mean we don’t have to do all that. The most important thing is to spend the day with you.”

He leaned in closer, gently resting his forehead against hers before softly pressing a kiss to her lips. "Not too much, babe. It’s your birthday, your special day. You’ve got it, every bit of it. I will plan it all out for you, okay? We’ll make it just for us. I can’t wait."

She leaned into him, leaning into the kiss, her eyes shining. "Me neither. Thank you for always making me feel special.”

[minviii]

So is a long winded text at 1am a good way of coming out to your parents?

[fidgetspringer]

- Marten & Nohren -

[swagging-back-to]

ok update i decided im gonna introduce mochi, sushi, and jasmine to the main colony and I'm going to sell both ten gallon tanks and the 30 gallon, keeping the 15 gallon for a quarantine tank.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[phagodyke]

urgh.. trying to troubleshoot an assay while my mind feels frozen in amber..its not happening

[paarksunghoon]

you plus me | heeseung

SUMMARY: it's been six years since heeseung stopped being your friend and the thought of him tagging along an annual camping tradition makes you feel like the world is crashing around you. one misunderstanding and one trip later makes heeseung re-evaluate all he knows, and it makes you believe there might be life after love.

NOTES: first full length fic!!!!!!! enjoy :) x

PAIRING: heeseung x fem!reader (featuring enhypen)

PLAYLIST: added march 17 - find it here

WORD COUNT: 34.1K

WARNINGS: fluff, angst, mentions of poor relationships with parental figures, mentions of infidelity, bad friendships, smut in the form of: fingering, oral (f. receiving), creampie.

***

“Please don’t make me go.”

“Y/N, you already said yes. We’re only gonna be gone for a week.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea, Jungwon. You just said that Heeseung is gonna be there.” 

Your best friend sighs and sits down on your bed, inspecting the duffle bag you have that’s half-packed. Your clothes are haphazardly strewn all over your bedding while you plead with him to no avail. You’re so desperate that you consider getting on your knees to beg.

“I’m sorry for telling you now, but he was able to get people to cover his shift last minute and paid for a spot on the kayaking rental.” 

“If he’s going, I’d rather save us all the trouble and stay at home.” Jungwon watches you cross your arms over your chest. “Every time we’re in the same room, it’s just a matter of time before things become awkward.” 

“We’ll be outside in the suuuun,” Jungwon says, tilting his head to the side and giving you those amused eyes that he always gives you when he’s trying to convince you to do something with him. You scoff and look away. It almost works. 

“I bet that it’ll be worse since we have a few things planned with the guys already.”

“So what? You two don’t get along. Big deal. We’ve already made reservations to secure a spot on the campsite and set a deposit for kayak rentals.”

“Won, I think you and I view Heeseung very differently. He doesn’t just not like me. He hates me.” 

“Hate is a wrong word.” 

You huff. “I don’t think you grasp just how weird it is every time we’re together. You could cut the tension with a knife.”

“Seriously, Y/N. It’s one week. I’m sure you can survive that. You’ve never missed a camping trip and it’s the first time all of our friends are coming.” Jungwon deadpans and throws a shirt towards your chest, which you hastily grab after being startled by his sudden movement. You know better than to argue with him when he gets like this. “Just help me pack your clothes, dude. Jay’s gonna be here to pick us up tomorrow morning, and you don’t want to be under-packed.” 

You relent and grumble. “Are you still staying over?”

He nods. “My apartment’s in the opposite of where we’re going, and I didn’t want to make him drive an extra twenty minutes since he needs to pick Riki up. Just need to drop Maeumi off at my mom’s before coming back here. ” Your eyes fall for a flat second before you squash that feeling down.

“I didn’t invite you over, you know.” 

“No, but don’t pretend like you’re not excited,” Jungwon says with a laugh as he pulls your clothes out of the bag and starts to readjust the clothing you’ve folded poorly. Seeing your best friend smile tugs a bit at your heartstrings and you can’t say that you aren’t happy to have him with you. “We should get you packed now so you don’t stress out later.” 

Begrudgingly, you allow Jungwon to sort out your clothes for you and pull last minute items you’ve yet to pack. It annoys you watching him be so calm when you’re simmering with worry. But you know he’s right—you’ve invested some money into this getaway, and it’ll be the last big outing before you move away from Korea for a year-long job opportunity in Okayama before pursuing your Master’s degree. Jungwon knows you a little too well, and sometimes it irks you. 

The end-of-summer camping trip is always one for the books. For as long as you can remember, the two of you have been going camping just before everyone goes back to school to celebrate the beginning of a new academic year with your families. But this time, the trip wasn’t just about continuing an annual tradition. It was also to commemorate a new chapter in your life. 

You’re a year older than Jungwon. He’s known you since you were obsessed with learning how to double dutch, and you’ve known him since he first learnt how to ride a bike. The two of you started out as neighbors when you moved into the house next to his, and his family had adopted your own like old friends, eventually inviting you and your parents into their annual camping tradition. Even when dynamics changed and people left, the tradition was the only thing that remained a constant for you.

This is the first summer that your loved ones announced they wouldn’t be coming along. They all thought it was time for you to embark on new traditions with new people, and nobody seemed to mind the change that much except for you. Jungwon had been ecstatic about it since he invited his friend, Jake, to the camping trip last year. You’d been wary at first since Jake is friends with Heeseung, but he never brought up your confusing arch-nemesis and chose to have a great trip before you all started university again.  

Sure, you had a lot of fun. You might even consider last year’s trip as one for the books. But your mom pulling out of the camping trip and everyone around you agreeing that it was for the best made you feel like your world was crumbling around you.

When you graduated university three months ago (Jungwon swears he didn’t cry, but you know better than to believe him), the weight of leaving your home started to sink in. In the blink of an eye, Jungwon wouldn’t be a twenty minute drive, and hanging out with all of your friends wouldn’t be as easy as it once was. You’d be in Japan all alone.

This past summer has been a whirlwind as you tried to do everything under the sun, savoring each moment until you wouldn’t be able to anymore. Jungwon’s been a good sport about it, never once complaining when you drag him to your latest adventure. He deals with your sudden shift in mood from happy to sad, letting you cry on his shoulder and braving the cliche words you say when telling him you’ll miss him a lot. 

Unlike past seasons, this is the first summer you haven’t seen Heeseung very often. Lee Heeseung, who usually keeps his head down and minds his business, always seems to have a bone to pick whenever his eyes settle on you. It confuses you to no end, and he keeps his quips to a minimum when your mutual friends are around, but it doesn’t stop you from wondering what you must’ve done to make him act like that towards you. It’s a shame because that small childhood crush you always had on him was squashed the first time he ignored your presence. 

None of your friends comment on it much. They’re used to the dynamic between the both of you because it's been years of this. Elementary school saw the two of you become friends for the first time and middle school brought more friends into the group. It was in high school that things changed and Heeseung started ignoring you out of nowhere until one Thursday afternoon when he’d told you to leave him alone after pestering him about his change in behavior. 

The odd tension followed you into university and continued to seep into your life. You don’t think you’ve ever been in a room with Heeseung where he’s been anything but nonchalant towards you, often acting like you aren’t there to begin with. You do your best to put up with it and plaster a smile on your face, but six years have gone by, and you don’t think you can handle a seventh. All of your friends seemed to have moved past it. You don’t know why you can’t.

“Don’t think about Heeseung,” Jungwon says with a sigh. “In fact, don’t think at all. Let me handle everything and enjoy this trip before you move to Okayama, okay?”

“Okay, fine. But I want to see Maeumi.”

Jungwon snorts. “She’s gonna be real pissed when she doesn’t see you for a year, you know.”

“Don’t remind me.”

Jungwon knows you like the back of your hand and has seen what you bring on these trips enough to know what you like to have in your duffle. He packs things you neglected to pull out because your mind has been elsewhere. As much as he wants to flick your head and tell you to quit overthinking so you can help him, he did tell you to let him handle everything. 

Your best friend makes you triple check that the two of you didn’t miss anything before heading back to his apartment to fetch Maeumi. She jumps into your arms when you squat to pick her up and won’t allow Jungwon to pet her white fur body while she’s nestled against you. This fondness and the familiar jab of Jungwon’s elbow to your ribcage make your heart ache despite the sweet moment. You’re really going to miss home. 

Ever the concerned mothers your mom and Jungwon’s are, they send you with a tray full of sweets for the road. They make you tell them exactly when you’ll be picked up and by who (“Jongseong, Eomma,” Jungwon says for the umpteenth time) and when you plan to come back. His dad gives you a spare bucket hat for when you’re on the water and an old sweater from his college days when Jungwon complains about how you never pack enough layers. The gesture feels warm since you consider his father to be somewhat of your own.

Leaving them to go back to your house feels a bit bittersweet. A lot of your belongings sit in storage boxes in the garage from when you moved out of your campus apartment upon graduating. Jungwon decided to get an apartment for himself with the money he saved from his part-time job as a busboy at a local chain restaurant. Staying over with you makes it seem silly when you remember he used to live next door. 

It’s nine in the evening when the two of you get ready for bed. Jungwon puts your bags by the front door so neither of you would forget while you finish brushing your teeth. He grabs extra blankets from the linen closet and settles onto your L-shaped couch, pulling the fabric just underneath his chin. Your heart feels like it’s sinking in on itself when you think about how this might be the last time you’re able to be so casual around him. 

“Stop overthinking,” he says in the quiet of the night, as if he can hear the thoughts in your head. The living room lights are off and the moonlight is what’s responsible for illuminating the space. 

You refrain from throwing your pillow at him. “I’m not overthinking. You’re overthinking.” 

Jungwon snorts. “We both know that’s not true. I know you’re scared about Okayama and I know that’s why you’ve been on edge about Heeseung. You’re usually never this loud about it.” Like always, your best friend is right. 

“It’s hard not to.” Your meek voice makes Jungwon’s heart lurch. “Everything’s changed so fast. I feel like I didn’t get enough time to properly say goodbye to everyone.”

“You’ll be in Japan, not America. It’s not like we’ll never see you.” 

“Yeah, but I won’t be able to annoy you for boba and you won’t be coming over to have dinner with my mom and me." Jungwon frowns. Too caught up in making sure you were happy this summer, he hadn’t given it that much thought. “I know I won’t be far, but I’m scared that things will change too much.” 

For the first time today, Jungwon doesn’t know what to say to make you feel better. “I’ll miss you a lot.” 

“I know that, dummy. I guess…I feel like I’ve been dealing with a lifetime of shittiness and the universe wanted to throw another curveball at me.” Jungwon’s heart softens at your confession. He’s used to your quick jabs and sarcastic humor. Knowing you’ve more afraid than excited makes him upset. 

“The universe sucks,” he says, happy that it pulled a laugh out of you. “I’ll always be a phone call away and you’ll never have to worry about me ignoring you because we both know I’m gonna blow up your texts anyway.” 

“I can always count on you to annoy the hell out of me.” You can’t see his face, but no you already assume Jungwon’s sporting a shit-eating grin. Even if you both know the main reason why you’re afraid of living in Okayama, neither of you say it. You’re grateful that Jungwon doesn’t bring it up. “Still, though. You know how I am with change. I’m really scared that I’m going to hate it there and not have you to keep me company.”

“Life is crazy and unpredictable but that doesn’t mean you’re going to be miserable. I mean, you did a pretty good job of making sure both of us had happy childhoods even though I know you were hurting when we were younger.” 

“It’s really hard not to have expectations or think badly about the future when I feel like I took everything for granted.” 

“I know, Bug,” Jungwon says, using a nickname from your childhood he reserves for when he thinks you need an extra bit of comfort. “But you’re the best person I know. You didn’t do anything wrong. Life just…gets in the way.” 

“Yeah, I know.”

Jungwon is quiet for a moment. “Just please promise me you’ll try to have fun, okay?”

“I know I’ll have fun, Wonnie. I’m scared that I’ll have too much fun and be a sobbing wreck when we get back.” 

The two of you share a laugh. “Alright, fair. Promise me you won’t let Heeseung get under your skin.”

You groan. “If he doesn’t like me, that’s fine. I don’t need everyone to like me. But why go out of his way to act like I’m scum of the Earth?”

“Just ignore him, okay?” Jungwon pleads. “I know it’s uncomfortable but he paid for a last minute spot. I’ll tell him to be mature about it too.” 

And, well, part of you believes Heeseung will listen to Jungwon. Despite being on the younger side in your shared friend group, everyone seemed to listen to your best friend most of the time. Jungwon has an authoritative aspect to himself when he’s refrained from being the silly, happy-go-lucky guy you all know him to be. 

It’s quiet for a brief moment with the wind gently tapping on the windows behind you. “I don’t know why he doesn’t like me.” 

Truthfully, neither does Jungwon. “I’m sorry he’s putting you in a tough spot.” 

“Won, sometimes I really wonder if he hates my guts. He doesn’t talk to me and he never replies to my messages in the group chat. It’s like I don’t exist to him.”

“I think that might be a little extreme.” 

“It’s not and you know it.” 

Jungwon hums. “Well, at least you’ll get away from him when you move to Okayama.” Just like that, all of your worries come flooding right back.

“Yeah,” you say meekly. “I’ll have Okayama.”

You don’t see him, but you know Jungwon’s smiling since you agreed with him for the first time tonight. “That’s more like it. You have your whole future ahead of yourself, dude. Heeseung is just a blimp. In three weeks, he won’t matter because you’ll be having fun in Japan. Just think about that.” 

You try not to think about the fears and hesitations you have about starting anew. This time, you wouldn’t be going back to university after the camping trip. You’ll have a week and a half back home before you’re boarding your flight and saying goodbye to the place you’ve called home for the past two decades. Thinking about the future keeps you up until you hear Jungwon’s snores from the other side of the couch. 

Unsure of when your mom will be coming home, you snuggle further into the cushions and curl yourself into a ball before falling asleep. 

***

The next morning, Jungwon wakes up just before you do and you see him and your mom talking before they see you sit up. Barely noticing their hushed tones, you find yourself yawning more than normal and force the blankets off of your body. Your mom fixes you a cup of tea while Jungwon finishes packing, leaving you to freshen up and do the same. 

“You know, this trip will be good for you. I can feel it,” your mom says when you sip on your tea. It’s hot and nearly burns your tongue, but you don’t mind. Somehow, that sharp pain makes you feel even more alert than the strong brew. 

“You say that every year.” 

“Yeah, but this time I won’t be with you.” 

She laughs when she hears you huff. “Baby, I know you love it when I come on these trips but we’ll always have other ones. We’ll have next year too.” 

“I just don’t get why you and Jungwon’s parents don’t want to come on this one.” 

“Like we said all those months ago–it’s time for you guys to break tradition and spend some time with your friends before you move to Okayama. Next year, we can rent out the whole campsite if it means we can accommodate us, the Yangs, and your friends.” 

Frustration bubbles within you but you’re quick to shut that feeling. “I guess. It won’t be the same.”

“Jake’s going this year, right? You guys had a lot of fun last summer.” 

Well, she isn’t wrong. “Sure, yeah. I had fun with him.” Motherly instincts kick in and she bumps your hip with hers. 

“I know you’re scared about moving and seeing Heeseung. But you’re much braver than you give yourself credit for. Sometimes people are meant to be lessons and maybe Heeseung is the biggest one of all.”

You throw a fake-disgusted look at her. “Did Jungwon put you up to this?” She laughs and shakes her head, bringing you into her arms. Her lips on the crown of your head feel warm and you don’t shy away from her embrace. 

“No, but I carried you in my stomach and brought you to term. I like to think I know you pretty well.” 

You chuckle. “Yeah, I guess you do. I’ll try not to let Heeseung bother me too much.” 

“Jungwon’s pretty worried, even if he won’t say it. I told him to relax a little. This trip isn’t supposed to stress anyone out. It’s supposed to be a nice getaway before you go back to your normal life.” 

“I feel guilty for making Jungwon worry about me. I know he’s still friends with Heeseung, somewhat, even though nobody can figure out why he doesn’t like me so much.” 

“That old saying about boys being mean to their crushes is bullshit.” 

You pull away and gasp when you hear her swear. “Eomma!”  

“I used to swear like a sailor before I became a mom, you know.” Her eyes light up when she watches you giggle and from the corner of her eye, she can see Jungwon walking back into the living room. 

“Jay’s almost here,” he says, shoving his phone into his back pocket. 

“Does he want a cup of tea?” 

Jungwon shakes his head. “I think it’s better if we head out as soon as possible. We still have to pick up Riki and then we have a four hour drive to the campsite.” 

She looks at the two of you like she has stars in her eyes. Wordlessly, your mom pulls Jungwon underneath her other arm and kisses his forehead before kissing yours. “When did you two become so grown up, huh? It feels like just yesterday that Y/N stopped crying whenever she got papercuts.” 

Jungwon snickers. “She still does.”

“Hey!”

“And it feels like just yesterday that Jungwon stopped needing to sleep with a nightlight.” Jungwon’s cheeks turn pink and you snicker at him. 

“Time flew by fast,” says Jungwon. She lets the two of you go and the doorbell rings. “That must be Jay.” 

Indeed, Jay is standing behind the door and bows at your mom before she offers to help you both carry things to his car. They make small talk while the two of you put them into the trunk (he loves to cook while she loves to bake. Likewise, they enjoy talking about this with each other). Jay’s Jeep is far too expensive for you to wrap your head around, but you don’t complain when he offers to drive you in it. A yellow rubber duck sits on his dashboard and it never fails to bring a smile to your face whenever you see it. You wave goodbye to your mom and stick your body halfway out the window until you’re restricted by the seat belt.

“Can we get coffee on the way?” you ask, yawning into your palm. It’s eight o’clock and everyone’s agreed to arrive around noon for lunch and to relax before sleeping. 

“Yeah, good idea. Let’s pick up Riki and then stop somewhere.” 

Jay plugs his phone into the aux cord at a red light and turns on some music. You like driving with him because you always discover new songs you obsess over for the next few days. It brings a pang in your heart when you think about how this will have to stop when you move to Japan. The two of you have created many playlist blends and he’s curated a few for you. While you’re not as musically inclined like your friends may be, Jay is the only person who’s willing to break things down for you in depth so that you can understand them too. It’s nice, especially when he talks about his own musical talents. You can see why he loves music so much and you don’t mind if he sends you a million songs to listen to. He turns onto the freeway and you know you’re about to see Riki soon.

He’s about to be a first-year in the university you graduated from. He moved to Korea from Japan a few weeks prior to get a lay of the land and become more comfortable in his surroundings. Originally planning on enjoying your summer until he reached out to you, your mother chided your decision and told you to help Riki move into his new dormitory. 

It was the least you could do for your half-brother. 

Begrudgingly, you spent a lot of time making sure Riki felt comfortable and settled in when you could’ve been soaking up the sun. Maybe that’s why you were so adamant about hanging out with Jungwon whenever you could. Being around Riki made you feel drained because his mere presence was enough to remind you of why you started losing faith in people. 

The dorms aren’t too far from your house. The drive there is silent, save for the music coming from Jay’s stereo. It gives you plenty of time to think about what the next week or so might look like. Avoiding Heeseung is out of the question since there will be eight of you participating in the same activities together. You’re not worried about having to watch over Riki too much either. Before moving to Korea, he met Jungwon the first summer he spent a few weeks vacationing here and they instantly became friends. He introduced Riki to the people you’d be camping with too. Without fail, the seven of them were always up to no good when he was in town. 

Spending three weeks with him in your neighborhood felt like someone was trying to set your life ablaze. He was so young back then, barely speaking Korean until you had to translate conversations into Japanese for him. You tried to mask disdain for having to help him, but even then, Riki understood why you were hesitant to have him in your life. If he were in your position, he’d probably feel the same way about you. 

He didn’t come to Korea very often but started to when he had school recess for the holidays and summer breaks. Since he expressed an interest in attending university in Korea, it felt like the right decision to send Riki whenever school wasn’t in session. He’d stay with his paternal grandparents and saw you every so often when you were both invited to the same place. Neither of you made a real effort to keep up with each other on social media or over the phone. At this time, Riki followed you on Instagram and you hadn’t bothered to follow him back. In all honesty, you didn’t see the point. 

You held a lot of resentment over Riki for things you know you can’t blame him for. But with new life changes that came your way, Riki seemed like the perfect scapegoat. He feels it sometimes, the way you pull him in just to push him away when the moment gets too familiar. He shoves down his feelings, choosing to treasure when you laugh with him. 

The two of you are doing somewhat better nowadays. You followed him back on Instagram the night after you dropped him off at the airport at the behest of your grandparents. They insisted Riki arrive at the airport four hours early despite the flight’s duration equating to two and a half hours. You suspected they wanted to force you into spending a little bit of alone time with your half-brother and get to know each other. 

To your surprise, the two of you got along pretty well. Riki was a dweeb trying to mask himself as cool. You bought him ice cream (pretending like you didn’t see him smiling so hard that he forced it off of his face) and sat in your car for two hours to talk. He found out you were a genius when it came to mathematics, a subject he did not excel in, and you found out he’s in a hip hop dance crew and wants to study dancing in Korea. Riki showed you a few clips of him dancing and from the corner of your eye, you could see how happy he was to be sharing this moment with you. It made your heart twinge and guilt crept up your spine when you think of all the times you’ve blown him off. You said goodbye to him at the gate and he surprised you with the first hug he’s ever given you. 

Still, it’s a bit awkward when the two of you spend any time together without your friends acting as buffers. It irks you that Riki and Heeseung get along so well because they share similar interests and are often awake at the same time, especially during the midnight hour. Part of you wondered if Heeseung would tell you all about your “rivalry” and how the two of you didn’t get along. If he did, Riki never let you know it because he’s been the same Riki you’ve known since you first met him three years ago. 

You can tell Heeseung is a bit irritated, too, that your half-brother still chooses to be nice to you. In fact, you realize he’s annoyed at everyone about this, especially Jungwon. You don’t call him out on it because you know it’ll spark a useless argument that makes you and everyone else feel upset. How Heeseung has the energy and stamina to avoid you for hours on end is strange to you. 

You and Jungwon meet Riki at the front door while Jay gets out of the car to make room for his belongings and the lawn chairs his grandparents dropped off for this specific trip. There’s exactly eight of them and they somehow all fit into the rear with all of the other cooking gear he’s packed. You assume the other car has everything needed for pitching tents and fishing.

“Hi,” Riki says before you can acknowledge him. He steps forward like he’s about to throw his arms around you but stops himself. “Good morning.” 

“Morning, Riki,” you say while grabbing the duffle bag from his shoulder. “Let me put this in the car. You and Wonnie can load the chairs.” 

“Aye, aye, captain.” 

It’s Riki’s first time on the camping trip and you find yourself a bit more nervous with him coming. He’s not someone who’s been camping before and you wonder if any of the other guys are going to look out for him. Jungwon, for as responsible as he is, tends to turn into a younger version of himself when he’s with your half-brother. You furrow your eyebrows when you put his duffle bag in Jay’s trunk as he rearranges and waits for the two boys to load everything in before settling back into the car. 

Riki and Jungwon immediately hop in the backseat and you’re quite pleased that you don’t have to call shotgun. They talk about things you don’t understand while Jay starts the car and resumes manning the aux cord. That strange feeling of nervousness creeps back into your stomach. You turn around and startle Riki when you look at him. 

“Do you have everything you need?” you ask him. 

“Yes,” Riki says with a nod. “I have my water bottle, my Swiss army knife, and sunblock.” 

“Bug spray?” 

“Jungwon says he’s bringing a few bottles.”

“Swimming trunks?”

“C’Mon, Y/N. We’re gonna be camping by a lake. That’s the first thing I packed.”

“Toothbrush?”

“Second thing I packed.”

“Enough shirts and socks?”

“Okay,” Jay says, pulling your wrist to get you to look at the road. “Riki’s got everything he needs and if he doesn’t, I’m sure someone else would let him use or borrow it.”

“I’m just making sure he’s got everything so we don’t need to stop somewhere,” you mutter, slinking into your seat while Jay sighs. You don’t catch it, but Riki sits behind you with a happy smile on his face. 

“Relax. We’re trying to make the most before summer ends. You deserve that too.” You know Jay’s right. He smiles when you fix your posture and hands you his phone. “You know my passcode. Queue up whatever you want.” 

You do just that, especially since Jungwon and Riki are engrossed in a conversation about God knows what. You think of interrupting them to ask what they want to listen to but ultimately decide to play a few songs you and Jay could jam out to and some from Jungwon’s playlists. You also try to remember the songs Riki has danced to in his Instagram videos and the musicians he posts on his stories and add them to the queue too. 

“Thanks for letting us come on this trip,” Jay tells you with chatter in the background, not once taking his eyes off of the road. “I know it’s a thing you and Jungwon do with your families.” 

“Eh, it was bound to happen anyway. Jake was the only one here last summer and I knew it was a matter of time.” 

“Still, I know how you’ve been feeling lately and it must be overwhelming to have so many people around you right now.” Damn. Jay is almost as receptive as Jungwon is. 

You don’t bother lying to him. “Yeah, I think I’m just scared about starting my life in Okayama. I know a few people but it’s not like here. I thought it was what I wanted to do when I accepted the position but now I can’t help but feel like I made a mistake.” 

“It’s not a mistake if you believed in it enough to do it all those months ago. I mean, there’s a reason why you’re moving.” 

“I guess.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, dude. You’re like, a fucking wizard when it comes to numbers and even Jake is speechless. You know how he feels about math and physics.” 

That makes you laugh. “It feels kinda nerdy to love math so much but fuck it. It got me a paid year’s worth of employment before I earn my Master’s.”

“See? Not so bad, isn’t it?” You suppose it’s not. “Junwon, can you please tell the others that we’re about to stop for coffee then be on our way?” You see the notifications on your phone. 

wonton: we just picked up riki

jaeyunnie: who’s we

wonton: me jay and yn

jaeyunnie: AYOOOOOOO YN

you: JAEYUNIE :DD

jaeyunnie: idk why i thought jay was driving alone. whatever this is about to be the best camping trip of my Life. even better than last year

sun sun: is it just me or is jake always really fucking dramatic. also i’m lowkey offended i wasn’t invited last year …

jaeyunnie: shut Up u know nothing about me sunoo. and u were in bejing how tf could you have gone with us

sun sun: so much attitude 🙄

fanghoon: yn save me PLEASE. i’m in a car filled with animals

sun sun: HEY

jaeyunnie: who are you calling an animal big guy ?

you: sunghoon what makes you think i can do that 

you: jk come over here ~i will protect you~

fanghoon: Thank You. It’s Literally 8am

jaeyunnie: u guys need to become morning people

you: pass

sun sun: PASS 

sun sun: noona we are the same 🙂‍↕️

you: i know that’s right

wonton: we’re gonna stop for coffee before heading to the campsite 

jaeyunnie: oh shit we should make heeseung stop for coffee too

wonton: jay says to stop blowing up his phone in the group chat. we’ll text you when we stop for gas and when we’ve arrived. bye!!!

***

After one stop to fill up Jay’s gas tank (you paid for him as a thank you) and a snack run (Jungwon and Riki split the cost), the four of you are at the campsite in no time. You’re all somewhat grateful that it’s a little bit cloudy outside because the sun was killing you on the two-hour mark of your road trip. The weather is a little cooler and you tug on the sweater that Jungwon’s dad gave you.  

You see your other friends park just after you do. Jungwon and Riki are first to get out of the car and greet them like they haven’t seen the group in years while you and Jay take your time getting out of your seats. Since when did your joints become so stiff? You blame it on the fact that you woke up from a nap just a few minutes before you arrived. 

“This place was hard to find,” you hear Heeseung say from a distance. You try not to let it dampen your mood. 

“Where’s Y/N?” You’re sure that was Jake. 

“Waking up, probably,” says Jungwon. “She took a nap in the car and we just woke her up.” 

“The drive wasn’t even that long.” You assume your best friend gives Heeseung some kind of reaction before the latter apologizes quickly. 

Jake is by the passenger door as you open it and looks at you like a dog who wants to be taken out on a walk. He holds the handle to the door and bounces in his shoes until you push yourself out of the car. The loud slamming of the door behind you makes you wince. Jake pulls you into a hug faster than you can process. 

“I missed you dude,” Jake says. He puts his arm over your shoulder and slowly leads you to the group. “Did you have a good summer?”

“You know, despite the incredibly hot weather that made me feel like I would sweat to death, summer wasn’t so bad. How was Brisbane?”

“I missed the heat,” Jake says with a pout. “But it was pretty good to be back home for a month. I really missed my parents and my brother.” 

“I’m sure they missed you too.”

Jungwon spots you. “Your eyes are so puffy.��� He takes his thumbs and tries to put more color underneath your eyes and onto your cheeks. Riki, Sunoo, and Jay have slipped away to start setting up camp.

Jake laughs beside you when you swat Jungwon’s hands away and lets his own arms fall when you lurch forward to give him a taste of his own medicine. He always liked that Jungwon was able to bring out a childish side to you because he’s always seen you carry yourself like you had to shoulder the weight of the world. Watching you chase Jungwon as he tried to escape your pinching fingers made him a bit more happier knowing you’d have friends like him to return to when you came back from Japan. 

Heeseung, however, rolls his eyes and speaks low. “She’s so childish.” 

“Dude,” Sunghoon sighs in exasperation. “We’re gonna be with her for a week. You need to quit making those comments.” 

Heeseung shrugs. “What? It’s not like she can hear what I’m saying.” 

“Yeah, but we can. We’re friends with her too, Heeseung.” 

The eldest tries to hold in his disdain. “Yeah, whatever. I’ll keep shit to myself.” 

“Just for now,” Jake encourages. “Y/N never starts anything with you but sometimes you say something that goes a little too far. No one is asking you to be her best friend.”

“Just remember it was Y/N’s mom and Jungwon’s parents who invited all of us,” Sunghoon reminds his friend. “We wouldn’t be here without them and if I recall correctly, you really wanted to come when you found out we were all planning to go.” Heeseung wants to argue and justify why he’s annoyed but can’t find a good enough reason. 

“You’re right,” he relents. “I’ll make nice but do not expect me to do shit for her.”

“We aren’t.” Sunghoon pats Heeseung’s back. “You’ve got this. It’s supposed to be a fun trip before we all go back to reality. All we want is one week where you two don’t create tension.” 

“I can do that.” Jake and Sunghoon share a look between the two of them when Heeseung isn’t looking and pray that he means it.

When Jungwon decides he’s out of breath, he accepts his fate and runs into Sunghoon’s arms when you outstretch your arms to pinch his cheeks and pull them apart like he’s made out of dough. The broken laughter coming from your best friend makes you laugh too. Everyone, save for Heeseung, laughs when Jungwon’s face becomes distorted due to your fingers. 

Eventually, you pull away from him and he starts to grab his duffle bag and the lawn chairs. The three of you follow suit once you realize you’re missing a few people. You lift your duffle over your shoulder and put on your hiking backpack while trying to hold more lawnshairs than you can carry. 

“Woah,” Sunghoon says as he catches a falling chair. “Let me help.”

“Thanks, Hoon. I don’t know why I thought I could carry two chairs at once.” 

“You’re strong but you’re also carrying a fuck ton of things.” 

He smiles at you and it makes you laugh. You haven’t seen much of Sunghoon over the summer because he’s been working nonstop at a local ice rink, teaching kids how to skate in back to back summer classes. Sunghoon is sometimes too tired to hang out after work or falls asleep on your couch whenever he hangs out with you to watch movies. Your mom thinks it’s a bit endearing and never has the heart to wake him up. Between Sunghoon’s impromptu sleepovers, Jungwon and Sunoo’s unannounced visits, Jay’s cooking and baking sessions in your kitchen, and Jake appearing out of nowhere every few nights for dinner, you’re starting to think your house might have an unspoken open door policy. 

Heeseung is the only one who doesn’t frequent your house if you don’t count Riki, who doesn’t spend enough time in Korea to become a permanent fixture. The only time Heeseung has been to your house is when he dropped Jungwon off after he had one too many to drink and he’d been adamant about going to your place because it was closer to the bar in comparison to your apartment. One awkward conversation later and Heeseung was out of your driveway. Jungwon woke up with a hangover the next morning and you were grateful your mother chose that weekend to take a girl’s trip with her best friends.

You don’t invite Heeseung over like you do with the others. The only reason why you haven’t deleted his phone number is because of the big group chat you’re in to discuss plans. He never responds to your texts in it and you don’t respond to him unless absolutely necessary. Sometimes you catch him laughing at your messages only to retract it when he realizes it’s you who sent it. It’s been six years of dealing with this and as much as it confuses you, part of you has learned to tune out this behavior and focus on the other friends you do share. 

Sunghoon must know you’re thinking about his friend because he looks at you like he’s been trying to get your attention. “Sorry,” you apologize. “What did you say?” 

“I said thanks for letting us crash your trip. I know this is something you and Jungwon do with your families every year. Can’t help but feel a little special that we get to come along.” 

You coo at him. “Do you remember when you could barely look me in the eye, let alone tell me something as sweet as that?” Sunghoon rolls his eyes. 

“Oh, shut up. You know I’m an introvert.” You bump your hip with his. 

“I’m just messing with you. But in all seriousness, it’ll be fun having you guys around.”

“I’m excited to see what you and Jungwon do every year.” 

“Nothing too out of the ordinary. Swim, eat a lot of food, kayak, hike, the usual. But there’s one spot we usually go to, just he and I, that’s away from the main spot on the lake.” 

“How’d you find it?”

“Jungwon found it by accident when we were younger. He said it was gonna be our secret spot and told me not to tell our parents. I think the whole campground panicked for an hour or so until somebody found us in the clearing.” 

Sunghoon snorts. “Yeah, that sounds like you two.” 

“They told us to tell them where we’d be and promised to leave us alone if we gave them a heads up. It’s not really noticeable if you don’t know where to look, but it’s so beautiful. It leads to another part of the lake and it’s always so peaceful and quiet.” 

“In that case, I’m honored that you’re showing us.” 

“Eh, it’s about time we add new members to the club.”

“Oh?” He raises his eyebrow. “There’s a club now?”

“Mhm. Gotta pay me two fish to join.” 

“Like you know how to fish.” You bump your hip with his again.

“There are things you guys don’t know about me, Park. Just wait and see.” 

Sunghoon lets the conversation end when he finds himself at the campsite where Jay and Riki have started to organize things and make spots for tents. It’ll take a few trips for all of the supplies and camping gear to be fully unloaded so you each take turns until everything is sitting in a big pile, waiting to be sorted. 

“Okay, I’m a bit out of my depth,” says Sunoo, who kicks around a rock as he speaks. “I, for one, will need help pitching a tent.”

“I’ll help you,” you say, nodding for him to come over. 

“You can pitch a tent?” Heeseung asks like he doesn’t believe you. 

You nod and pick up a bag. “Yeah. I do this every year.” You don’t say it with any bite in your tone but Heeseung, who forgot this fact, feels like an idiot for making a fool of himself in front of his friends. He chooses to look away from you for now. 

“We have three tents we need to put up,” Jay says. “I’m thinking we pitch those now, have a snack and water break, and then start to organize before we eat lunch.” 

“Sounds good.” You agree. “I’d rather have everything set up so we can enjoy our evening. Besides, we should do this before it gets dark.” 

“Right.” Jungwon clears his throat and hands out each bag, assigning your friends based on the size of the tent. Everybody gets to work, clearing the flat ground of rocks and debris before deciding where your tents will go. You all hammer the groundsheet into the dirt before assembling the poles.

You teach Sunoo the basics and give him pointers when he struggles to connect the joints. He’s learning much faster than he gives himself credit for because in no time, he’s jumping for joy when he finally manages to grasp what he’s supposed to be doing. It’s nice to watch him be so happy over this, as Sunoo originally declined the invitation to go camping since he isn't a huge fan of the outdoors. But now it’s like you would’ve never guessed that because he’s pretty quick to pick up your lessons.

Your tent is pitched up in no time. You roam around like a camp counselor to see if anybody needs help. Jake, Heeseung, Jay, and Jungwon seem to know what they’re doing and have the biggest tent halfway set up. Sunghoon and Riki look like they need a bit of assistance. Sunghoon’s figuring it out quickly while Riki fumbles with his fingers. 

“You have to do it slowly,” you say from beside him. Riki hands you the attachments when you beckon him to hand it over and show him slowly. “Like this. See? If you do it slowly, they’ll catch easier and it’ll be smoother when we feed them into the tent.” 

“Oh.” Riki nods when your trick works. “Thanks, Y/N.” 

The three of you pitch up your tent too, with Riki handing you the pegs to hammer them into the ground after zipping the door. Sunghoon dusts off his hands on his shorts and takes a big gulp from his water bottle. Sunoo’s mom packed enough fruit and onigiri for a midday snack, and all eight of you feast quietly after exerting more power than anyone anticipated. You really need to start working out again. 

“Before we clear out and organize everything else, we should probably figure out who sleeps where,” Jungwon says. “That way, we can put our stuff in our respective tents and have that out of the way.” 

“Good idea,” Jake says. “How should we do this? Rock, paper, scissors?” 

“Sure, but I think Y/N and I should share a tent.” Heeseung rolls his eyes at Jungwon and you see it from the corner of your vision.

“What?” Riki asks. “Why?” 

“Because all of you get too comfortable around her and forget she doesn’t want to hear you snore or see your boxers in the morning.” Jungwon laughs. “It’ll be easier since we’ve been camping together anyway. She’s used to rooming with me and I’m used to waking up next to a Zombie.” 

“I hate you.” Jungwon merely smiles at you.  

“You just want to get out of sharing a tent with three people,” says Sunghoon. Jungwon nods. 

“That too.” 

“Rock, paper, scissors it is,” Sunoo says, getting his hands ready. 

They all battle one another until the rooming situation is sorted. You and Jungwon will share a tent while Sunoo and Jay share the other smaller one. That leaves Jake, Sunghoon, Riki, and Heeseung sharing the big one. You all throw your belongings in before helping Jay organize the portable stove, chairs, and other things that need to be stored properly. 

When all is said and done an hour later, Jay and Sunghoon start a barbecue. All of you are spent, sagging your bodies in the camping chairs that are positioned around the campfire. You know you’ll need to fetch some wood from the outpost if you all want to have a bonfire. But that can be a task for later.

“Your mom makes the best onigiri,” Riki groans as he shoves another bite in his mouth. “It reminds me so much of home.” 

Sunoo smiles proudly. “She’s the best, isn’t she?” Jake, who is busy stuffing his face with sliced watermelons, agrees. They pick at the leftovers from snack time and Jay chides them for it.

“Don’t spoil yourselves too much or you won’t have an appetite for lunch.” 

“He’s so bossy,” Riki says as he leans over towards you. “But it’s kinda nice having someone who does shit and takes charge.” 

You nod. “Mhm. Usually Jungwon and I are the ones spearheading everything but Jay’s got some camping experience. I’m fine taking the backseat.” 

“Do you camp a lot? Besides this tradition, I mean.” Riki watches you shake your head. 

“No, not really. This is as much as I can handle. It’s more like a gigantic lake house with hot showers and a few convenience stores miles away to replenish food if we run out of anything.”

“It looks like you know what you’re doing.”

“That’s because I do, Riki.” 

He blushes. “Right. Thanks for helping me with my tent earlier.” 

“Don’t sweat it. You’ll be able to do it without my help in no time.” That brings a shimmer of hope to the younger boy sitting next to you. 

Heeseung avoids looking at you when Riki purposefully sits beside you on the empty lawn chair. He doesn’t completely understand why the younger boy likes you so much. Heeseng thinks you’re a nuisance and that you overstay your welcome at hangouts. But Riki clings to you like you’re his lifeline and he gets that you’re his half-sister and all, but you weren’t the most welcoming to him when he started hanging out in Korea more often. Riki would never tell Heeseung the details about his past and he never tried to pry past what the youngest would reveal. Six years of avoiding you made him forget every single detail he once knew about you when you’d both been somewhat friendly towards one another. 

There were some days when you wouldn’t make room in your schedule to see Riki as often as he’d wanted you to and he lamented that to Heeseung. But every time he’d start to talk about how unfair it was for you to pick and choose when you got to see our younger brother, Riki would defend you every time. He didn’t get it, feeling the frustration bubble to the surface before realizing that it wasn’t his place to question why Riki acted the way he did. Sure, he was younger than Heeseung, but he respected family matters and didn’t care about you enough to figure you out anyway. 

He keeps these feelings to himself mostly. The friends you share don’t really understand why he has a distaste for you and he refuses to elaborate because the memory is too painful, and instead chooses to bury these feelings. It’s nobody’s business anyway. He certainly doesn’t want to start anything with Riki involved because he would feel guilty for putting him in an uncomfortable position, and because he knows he’d defend you regardless. Even though you’ve made progress to open up yourself to Riki, Heeseung still scoffs whenever he sees the two of you together. 

By the time lunch is done, all eight of you are crowded around a table built into the ground, feasting on meat and vegetables. Everybody thanks Jay for cooking and the seven of you agree to clean up after every meal so Jay doesn’t have to work twice as hard. You’re not sitting too far from Heeseung (to both of your dismay). Sunghoon purposely sat in between you both when he realized the other empty spots were filling up and didn’t want to chance an uproar during mealtime. 

“So,” Sunoo starts to say after closing the bottle cap on his cola. “What’s on the agenda for today? Personally, I think we should take it easy until tomorrow.” 

“I agree.” Jungwon nods. “We’ve done a lot and drove for a while. I say we relax and do whatever until dinner.” 

“I’m going to nap, that’s for sure.” You all snicker at Jay. Typical. 

“Me too,” says Riki. 

“Is anyone up for walking around the lake?” Jake asks. 

“I could go,” Sunghoon says from next to you. 

“Sure,” you finally say, “why not.” 

“I think I’ll hang back here.” Heeseung says it almost immediately and it stings a bit. “I’ll probably nap too.” 

“I want to read.” Sunoo changes the direction of the conversation before anyone can pick up on the awkwardness and you throw him a smile. 

“I think I’ll join you.” Jungwon pulls a book from his backpack and the pair begin to brainstorm where they should sit. Natural chatter falls back into place and you focus on eating, as your stomach has been grumbling pretty loud. 

Heeseung breaks the silence. “Can someone pass me the pineapple?” You don’t register that your arm has moved on its own accord and pass the container to him. Heeseung gives you a look you can’t decipher and it’s only then you realize what you’ve done. Sunghoon gulps. 

“Thanks,” Heeseung mutters, taking the pineapple from your hands. You’re pleasantly surprised he doesn’t make a comment about how he isn’t craving it anymore and watch him eat some from the corner or your eye. 

By nightfall, all of you are too exhausted to sit around the campfire. The hot shower stalls provide the kind of warmth you would go crazy without and you find yourself contemplating underneath the water longer than you’d like to admit. A plethora of thoughts run across your mind and they drift from the events of today, Riki, Heeseung, and moving to Okayama. Your friends don’t bring up the move and you’re grateful for that. 

When you return from the shower and from brushing your teeth, Jungwon asks if you’re okay. You lie and say you’re fine but exhausted and he lets it go, too tired himself to pry the truth out of you. The last thing you think about is Heeseung. You send a silent prayer out into the universe and ask that the two of you are able to make nice during this camping trip. Then, you fall asleep.

***

Everybody is up bright and early after a good night’s sleep. All of you agree today’s the best day for a short hike to get used to the terrain before you explore harder trails. You and Jungwon know the hike like the back of your hand and lead the group expertly through trees and dirt pathways. All of you have a backpack for your essentials, and each of you has packed a portable lunch for when you reach the top of the peak at the end of the trail. 

Halfway into the hike is not as uphill as you recalled it to be. The scenery is still breathtaking and you temporarily forget that Heeseung is burning eyes in the back of your skull. Last night’s prayer seems to be working, as he hasn’t said a word to you or argued with you when you started leading everybody towards the start of the hiking path. You’re not sure whether his feelings about you changed or if he knows you’re the literal expert since you grew up here, but you don’t think you care either way. 

Heeseung makes a false step and twists his ankle. You hear the commotion behind you and turn around. He stumbles and a sharp edge of a branch catches his thigh, creating a gash that starts to bleed. Everyone crowds around him when they realize it and make him sit on a large rock and he feels like shouting at you to back away when you start to walk towards him.

“Guys, I’m fine. It’s not that bad.” He feels more embarrassed than hurt. 

Jake looks concerned. “Dude, your leg is bleeding.” 

“It’s just a cut.” 

“Let me inspect it.” 

You pull your backpack off of you and take out your water bottle and first aid kit. You drop to your knees to inspect the wound and Heeseung refrains from coughing at the awkward position from where he’s sitting. You don’t seem phased by it, however, as you push up the fabric of his shorts and use your water bottle to clean the dirt from his wound. 

Your face is somewhat close to his leg and he jumps when your hand touches his thigh. The guys mistake his sudden movements as pain and rush to help stabilize him. Heeseung insists that he’s fine and brushes them off of him. He won’t admit that his fidgeting is because the last thing he expected you to do was patch him up. He figures Jungwon would be good at that kind of stuff, not you. 

Heeseung winces at the sudden contact of water in his wound. “Okay, maybe it hurts a little.”

“You won’t need stitches or anything, but I should get you cleaned up and put a bandage on it.”

Heeseung watches as you do your best to clean it with the wipes you have and ointment that will keep any debris out. The wound isn’t too gnarly but it’s no small papercut either. He watches as you expertly deal with the wound and keeps quiet, even though he feels uncomfortable and wishes he could turn back time to avoid any of this. It’s awkward to know your hands are on him because he feels like ants are crawling up his leg.

“I think we should probably go back and rest a little,” says Jungwon. “We can eat lunch there and maybe hang out for a bit.”

“Good idea,” Heeseung mutters when you’ve stepped away from him. Sunghoon and Riki each help him up and allow the eldest to use them as crutches as he limps back to the base. He mutters a quiet ‘thank you’ in your direction and doesn’t pay attention to see your reaction. You feel like you got your hopes up for nothing because he turns his back towards you before you can smile at him. Defeated, you try to put your best self on display and follow everybody back to your tents. 

Heeseung decides to rest on the chairs and eat his lunch there. You aren’t particularly eager to spend any time with him and figure he’d appreciate it if you weren’t around while he recovered. You take your sack of lunch and tell Jungwon you’ll be walking around the lake like you did yesterday. He tells you to be safe and then you’re on your way. 

“Hey, wait up!” You turn around to see Jake running until he’s caught up with you. It’s a bit unfair how he barely runs out of breath when he jogs. It’s definitely because he’s an athlete, but it’s still unfair. 

“Care to join?” 

“Can’t a guy accompany his friend on a nice, brisk walk?” 

That makes you laugh. “Yeah, sure.” You fall in a quiet tandem enjoying the silence and the environment for a while. “I had a lot of fun camping last year. I think my favorite part was kayaking or when Jungwon accidentally dropped his entire s’more in the fire.” 

You snicker at the memory. “His mom was so mad that he kept eating the marshmallows.” 

“Yeah, it was pretty funny. I still feel kind of embarrassed that I managed to flip over in my kayak somehow.” 

“Eh, it makes for a good story.”

“It’s not my fault Jungwon slammed into me!” Jake defends when you begin to laugh. “Seriously, Y/N. How the fuck do you put up with that menace?” 

“The same way you do, dummy.”

Jake bites into his sandwich. “I love Jungwon.”

“Me too.” 

“Our parents loved having you come too. Jungwon’s dad loves fishing with people.”

“I still can’t believe how many we were able to catch. I’m sad the guys weren’t there because they keep shitting on me for not being able to catch any when we go together.” 

You bump your shoulder against his. “They don’t know what I know. I’m sure my mom has pictures somewhere.” 

“How is she, by the way?” Jake asks. 

“Eomma’s doing alright. She just got a huge bonus at work for managing a really difficult client and completing this campaign she’s been working on. It stressed her out for months but I’m happy if she’s happy.” 

“That’s awesome. I’m happy for her.” 

“How are things with your family? How’s Layla?” 

“My parents are actually on a trip to the States to see some family and my brother just got promoted at his job. I’m super proud of him. He worked really hard for it. Layla’s doing okay too. She’s staying with my cousin until I come back.” 

“I miss her.”

“She probably misses you too.” 

The two of you settle into a comfortable pace and eat your lunches. There are no awkward moments with Jake. Something about his personality makes everyone around him divulge their deepest secrets and he always seems to know what to say, too. You haven’t been close to him for very long but you know him well enough to know that he’ll keep anything you say between the two of you. 

“I know you probably feel a little awkward with Heeseung around but you’ve been handling it really well.” Jake’s tone softens and he looks straight ahead as he talks, breaking the temporary silence. “I don’t know what goes on in his head half the time.” 

“I just wish I knew what I did so I can apologize and fix it. He gets mad every time I ask and accuses me of bringing up bad memories for him. I don’t know what to do, Jake. It feels like he gets along with everybody in my life but me.” 

“We all know Heeseung’s been through a lot and has trouble talking about them sometimes. He’s been in therapy but we had to really convince him to set an appointment.” 

You scoff. “Sounds like him.’ Jake doesn’t disagree. 

“I guess I understand that having to deal with shitty cards makes a person go insane.”

“Sure. I just wish I wasn’t the scapegoat.” Jake winces but tries not to let you see. 

“Sorry you’re going through this. Sunghoon and I made him swear to be on his best behavior.” 

“It’s a little awkward still but at least he isn’t picking a fight with me. Although, who knows how long that’ll last.”

“Have a little more faith in him, Y/N.” You deadpan and he holds his hand up in mock surrender. “Okay, next topic. How are you feeling about Japan?” 

Your shoulders slump. ”Awful.” 

Jake’s head quirks like he doesn’t understand. “What do you mean? You were really excited when you got the job offer.” 

“I know but…it doesn’t feel right anymore. My whole life is about to change and I don’t know how I feel about that.”

“You don’t have to know anything. In fact, I’d be a little worried if you had your shit figured out.” You punch his arm. “It’s really cool that you’re leaving Korea to pursue your dream. I know how hard it is to leave everything behind for a better opportunity.”

You look at him softly and nod because you know he empathizes with you. Back when you first met him, he’d moved from Australia to Korea because your university had one of the best physics programs in the world. He knew how to speak your native Korean but wasn’t confident in conversing back then, and you had your fair share of mentoring him in formal greeting and the basics when it came to interacting with people. Jake definitely understands where you’re coming from and doesn’t want you to feel alone. 

“We’ll always be here for you too,” he reassures. “We won’t be too far away and you can come home whenever you have the time and aren’t working.” 

“I know, but it feels like everything in my life is changing at the same time and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I wish I was a freshman again. I wish I could turn back time and really enjoy my life before I make a life changing decision.” 

“You’re really torn up about this, aren’t you?”

Nodding, you look at the ground beneath you. “There are so many things I’ve been dealing with over the past few years or so and it feels like I’m giving up on things if I just leave. Everything feels so scary, you know? I feel like I’m being suffocated every time I open my eyes. 

“On top of starting a new job in a place I’m not that familiar with, I’m leaving my mom behind. I’ve never lived farther than an hour away from her and I hate knowing that I won’t be able to see her whenever I want. Not to mention Riki studying in Korea means I’ll be spending even more time with him.”

Jake chooses not to comment and nods with his lips pressed into a thin line. He doesn’t know what’s going on between the two of you but has his suspicions after hearing your hushed conversations with Jungwon. Even before the two of you became as close as you are, Jake has always looked out for you because he knows Jungwon loves you like a sister. It was easy to tell that you’d fallen into some sort of depression as you graduated high school and barely managed to pull yourself out of it before graduating university. 

Riki has always been a sore subject for you. Jake doesn’t bring him up unless you do, no matter how much he adores the younger boy. The relationship you have with him is complicated but it tears him up inside to see Riki longing for you when the two of you are together. Jake knows there’s a great deal of tension that follows both of you too. He could feel it the first time you brought up having a half-brother and started to put the pieces together. 

“I love that Riki’s more comfortable in Korea. I really do,” you confess. “I love that my friends get along with him too, but part of me is scared that you’ll all forget about me since he’ll be here to take my place.” 

“You are not replaceable.” Jake looks at you when he says it. “You’re about to chase your dream, Y/N. None of us will throw our friendship down the drain just because we won’t be able to see you everyday. Riki is great but he’s not you.”

He’s pleased when you lift the corners of your mouth into a small smile. “Thanks, Jake. I don’t know where this fear came from.” 

“You’re dealing with a lot. It’s understandable. I don’t know much about what’s going on between you and Riki, and you don’t have to tell me, but you should know that he loves you a lot and would never think about dishonoring you while you’re gone.” 

“I know. I have a lot of pent up emotions and therapy feels like it isn’t working. I guess I should give myself some more time. But with the move, it’s been hard to focus on anything. I don’t want Riki to feel like I don’t want him in my life but it’s hard to make room for somebody you didn’t know existed until a few years ago.” 

Jake nods. “Yeah, I get that. It feels a bit weird making space for someone who calls himself your brother, isn’t it?” 

“He has every right to. I mean, he’s my half-brother. But I don’t know…I want to be at a place where I can look at him and not see how much my life has changed for the worst. He’s such a talented kid with a bright future and I hate that I project my feelings onto him.” 

“Baby steps,” Jake reassures. “You’ve been through a lot of shit. Both you and your mom have and you've both handled it really well.” 

“I’m glad it looks that way because I feel like I’m hanging on by a thread.” 

“Well, that’s what it means to be in your early twenties.”   

The two of you decide to head back to the campsite when it starts to get warmer. You throw your trash in garbage bins before trotting back and see that Sunoo and Jay have left to go back hiking on the trail that you were on earlier in the day. Heeseung seems to fare better with his wound, which you see he’s managed to replace (thanks to Jungwon, no doubt). But his mood seems to worsen when he sees you and Jake walking side by side towards the group. 

“How was the lake?” Jungwon asks, sipping on a cola.

“Pretty,” Jake replies. “There weren’t that many people there so it was a little empty.” 

“We should probably discuss what we want to do for the rest of the day and plan some stuff for later this week. It’ll be a little warmer later in the week so I think we should save that. There’s a great spot where Y/N and I go fishing. We could do that later in the morning.”

“Y/N, fishing?” Heeseung laughs. “I’d pay to see that.”

“What, you don’t think I can fish?” 

He shrugs. “I didn’t know you were a fan of the outdoors. You always had a nose in your textbooks so I thought that was it for you.” 

“Well, Heeseung, it’s not like the two of us know each other well enough to know these types of things.” He doesn’t seem to like that answer. 

“Fishing tomorrow it is!” Jake interjects. 

“I haven’t gone fishing in a long time,” Riki laments. “It’ll be nice to have trout for dinner.” 

“I think Jay brought a lot of seasoning and sides,” Jungwon says to the group. “We can always go to the market a few miles down for anything else.” 

You tune out the rest of the conversation, feeling a bit tired from the walk and the heat that’s starting to make you sweat. You’re eternally grateful that your tent is covered in shade and contemplate on taking a nap when Jungwon waves at you.

“You good, Y/N? You seem a little out of it.” You nod at Jungwon and take a seat next to the closest camp chair. You can feel Heeseung watching you and try not to slip as you sink down into the seat, crossing one of your legs over the other. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just have a lot going on in my head. I think I’m a little tired, too”

Heeseung scoffs quietly. “We’re camping. What could you possibly be thinking about that’s making Jungwon worried?” You curl into yourself as Jungwon chides his friend. 

“I’m moving to Japan soon,” you tell him. You’re not even sure that he knows this about you, figuring that one of your friends would tell him to you at some point. Neither of you communicate with one another unless you absolutely have to. You didn’t see the point in telling him. “I’ve been thinking a lot about that, I guess.”

An array of emotions seems to wash over him and, as always, you have a hard time trying to figure out what he’s feeling and thinking. “Oh. So you’ll be out of Korea?”

“Yup.” 

“When are you leaving?” 

“Don’t seem too excited,” Sunghoon says underneath a cough.

“In a couple of weeks. I leave a little after we get back home.” Heeseung merely nods. He doesn’t ask you why you’re moving or what part of Japan you’ll be living in and you don’t offer that information, feeling awkward with the tension ever since you and Jake arrived back at the campsite. Riki finishes eating and stands up to throw his trash away, providing something to look at in order to forget that Heeseung keeps trying to look away from you. 

“Y/N’s gonna be an engineer,” Jungwon brags on your behalf. “She’s taking a year off to work before getting her master’s degree.” 

“Damn,” Riki whistles. “You’re so smart.” You try to hide a smile. 

“What are you gonna be working on?” Sunghoon asks. 

“I’ll be assisting other researchers in software development, particularly for space and aeronautics.” You nod once, feeling tense underneath everyone’s stare. “I don’t know what I’ll be doing specifically but that’s why I’m moving to Okayama.” 

“That’s so cool!” Jake exclaims. Heseung rolls his eyes at his excited outburst and tries to avoid your eye. “You’re gonna be amazing.” 

“I hope so. It’s a great opportunity to work in my chosen field before I decide to continue in this career when I go back to school. I have so many interests within mathematics but this seems like the right place to start.”

“Shit,” Sunghoon says as he slowly claps for dramatic effect. “I knew you were smart but you’re a fucking genius.”

“I wouldn’t say genius–”

“You are, though.” Jungwon smiles at you and gives two thumbs up. “You’re the smartest person I know, dude. This company is lucky to have you.”

“So cool,” Jake says again. He bumps Heeseung’s shoulder with the back of his hand. “Isn’t that right, Heseung?” 

“Yeah, totally,” he says carelessly, giving you a half-hearted smile. His mouth doesn’t quite reach his eyes and you refrain from audibly sighing. 

“Don’t you think Y/N was always the smartest person in our year?” Heeseung nods. Jake nudges his friend again. 

“Yes,” Heeseung says with a great amount of venom in his tone. He shakes off Jake’s hand from his body abruptly, causing the younger boy to take a step back in shock. He looks at you and musters an insincere smile when he notices the rest of your friends watching. “Y/N is so smart.” 

His sarcasm deafens your ears and makes your blood feel like it could be boiling beneath your skin. The atmosphere around you changes. Riki and Jungwon try to pretend like everything is normal while Jake and Sunghoon give Heeseung wide eyes as if to tell him to knock it off. You look at your lap, uncomfortable with the silence that washes over. 

“Why’s it so quiet?” Sunoo asks from behind you. The group collectively sighs and you’re all thankful that he and Jay returned from their hike to cut the tension. 

“We were just talking about what we wanted to do for the rest of the day,” Jungwon says before anyone can speak. “Let’s take it easy tonight and go fishing tomorrow.” 

“Sounds good to me.” Jay takes a seat and takes a big gulp of water. “Let’s heat up some kimchi jjigae for dinner because I don't feel like cooking. Jake’s mom made enough for all of us to have seconds.” 

None of you disagree. Feeling yourself grow more tired the more your friends converse with one another, you manage to catch Jungwon’s eye and nod at him before heading inside the tent. 

***

It’s not unusual for you to wake up with what feels like a heavy heart but you’re having a hard time pushing yourself off of the uncomfortable ground to get ready for the day. Jungwon is asleep beside you with his knee digging into your side but even that isn’t enough to motivate you to leave the tent. 

You mourn the loss of your mom and his parents accompanying you  on this trip. As fun as hanging out with your friends are, having Heeseung constantly avoiding eye contact and muttering things underneath your breath has you feeling more on edge than you anticipated. It always feels like he’s waiting for you to mess up so he can get a word in or wait for the perfect moment to drop a subtle insult that only you can catch. Sunghoon and Jake in particular try their best to restrain him but that doesn’t do much. Eating dinner was awkward and you blamed your quiet nature on sleeping too deeply. 

Finally, you sit up in your spot and rub the sleep out of your eyes. It doesn’t seem like any of the other guys are up and you pull a clock out to read the time. It’s still early and the people around you are still waking up as well. Your movements seem to have woken up Jungwon, who yawns when he opens his eyes.

“Morning,” he croaks. “Did you sleep okay?”

“It was fine. Woke up a few times because of people stepping on twigs, though.”

“Yeah, same. I think Jake got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. Woke up to him walking by the tent.” Jungwon sits up and brushes the hair out of his eyes. “I’m so hungry thinking about all the trout we’re about to eat tonight.” 

“If you catch any.” He swats your arm. 

“I alway catch more than you.”

“Nuh-uh. Last year I beat you by two fish.”

“Y/N, I’ve caught more fish than you every year before that.” 

“Shut up.” 

You hear Jungwon laughing as you exit the tent to freshen up at the bathhouse. There are a few people milling about when you walk towards the structure. Your mouth feels a bit grimey from your morning breath and the cold water that hits your face wakes you up immediately. When you turn around after you’ve finished your morning routine, you collide right into Heeseung.

“Watch it.” 

“I didn’t see you. Geez.” Your heart continues thumping as you grip your toiletry bag. Heeseung rolls his eyes and slips past you. Anger rises within you but you decide that it’s not worth getting so worked up over at this hour. 

As time ticks by, the rest of your friend group emerge from their tents and gather around the campfire. You all wait for everyone to wake up and prepare themselves for the day, enjoying a nice breakfast with a cool breeze until you’re all ready to go fishing. You secure the bucket hat Jungwon’s dad gave you until it fits snugly over your head and forego a jacket, only packing the necessities while you wait for everybody else to gather their belongings before you’re all walking to the boathouse. 

The instructors are the same from last year. You and Jungwon make small talk and explain that neither of your parents are here on this trip and you tell them about Japan when they ask you about life after college. Each of your friends introduce themselves and after a quick introduction, they’re leading all eight of you out onto the dock. 

There are enough boats for two pairs of three and one for two people. It seems as though you were too preoccupied talking to the employees because you realize the only boat left is one shared with Heeseung and Riki. 

“Oh,” comes your meek voice in realization as you watch the two step onto the boat.

“You should man the engine,” the employee says as the two men get on before you. “You’re more familiar.”

“I can steer,” Heeseung says. “I’ve done it before.” 

“I’ve watched Y/N steer these boats for a decade, son. You’ll definitely want her to do it.” 

Heeseung relents. It’s a small victory, but a victory nonetheless, 

You step onto the boat. Heeseung sits at the far end while Riki sits in the middle, holding onto the seat as you get your bearings. The three of you wave goodbye to the employees at the dock and you start to drive the boat out into the lake to catch up with the rest of your friends.

The open clearing away from the port is more beautiful than you can describe. With open waters and enough room to roam around, there’s an array of directions to catch the most fish. The water is fairly calm with the exception of the ripples your boat makes. Riki and Heeseung don’t say a word as you steer them towards a clear path with minimal boats and see the other guys scattered around the large body of water. 

Neither of them argue with you about where to go, even though Heeseung is holding himself back. Bitter over having you steer, he knows it’s the logical answer since you know this place like the back of your hand. He instead chooses to bask in the sunlight and welcomes the spray of water on his face and body. The cool splashes are a nice contrast to the warm sunlight. 

When you start to slow the boat down, the water around you becomes still as well. You turn the engine off and wait for the contraption to settle beneath you. The sound of water rippling against itself is enough to make you feel more at ease and you don’t mind it when you see Heeseung start to assemble bait on the fishing poles.

“Why’d you pick this place?” Riki asks.

“I caught a lot of fish here last year. I hope we can catch more this year.”

“More than Jungwon?”

You smile. “Yeah. He and I have this unspoken competition.”

“What’s the prize?”

“There’s not really a prize. It’s just something we do.”

“What’s the point of competing if there’s no prize?” Heeseung interjects. You shrug.

“Dunno. It’s fun for us.” He doesn’t say anything after that. 

It’s quiet for a while. The sound of birds chirping and faint chatter in the background fill the atmosphere but the three of you silently agree to refrain from talking once you’ve all casted your reels. Riki, who is a bit excited to catch some fish, anxiously peers at the water below him every few minutes or so. He pulls back with a pout when he doesn’t feel a tug on his line. The awkward tension somewhat dissipates and you’re able to forget that Heeseung is a few feet away from you. He angles his face towards the water and seems to be in his own bubble as you hold your fishing rod. 

Growing up on this campsite means learning the virtue of patience and willing yourself to become more in tune with your surroundings. It was your father that first taught you that the most important rule to fishing was patience. He’d tell you the fishes could sense urgency and impatience from underneath the water, and therefore they knew not to take your bait. It made sense to you at a young age. Every time you’d be on the water with him, you’d force yourself to slow down and calm your thoughts until the silence felt like a welcomed embrace. 

That mantra of practicing patience seeps into your life now that your dad isn’t in it anymore. Jungwon’s father had volunteered to go fishing with you the first year your own chose not to go on the annual camping trip. Everyone could tell how difficult it was for you and your mother to attend, but despite hardship and the change in dynamics, she didn’t want either of you to lose any semblance of normalcy. You’d argue that was the hardest week of your life. Jungwon, who is usually very organized and detail oriented, chose to let you lead the trip activities between the two of you and didn’t complain once.

The two of you were in high school when your father left and Jungwon swears it was like somebody stole the sun from your eyes. Your studies became the sole focus of your life and even Heeseung was barely at the forefront of your mind anymore. He’d watch you become detached from everything that didn’t have to do with academics and extracurriculars. Focusing on college applications was the most important thing for you back then. 

Of course, Jungwon and all of your friends gave you a bit of space to process new feelings and the change in household. Your father moved away and wasn't living in the house anymore. It started to become an empty shell, where neither you nor your mother could stand eating at the dining table because it brought up unwanted memories. Your dad wasn’t here to help you with homework anymore and you could no longer hear your parents talk outside of your door until you fell asleep. The complete silence startled you. It still does sometimes, but you’ve learned that grief is about facing your hardships until it isn’t so scary anymore. 

These trips are bittersweet every year. Fishing is a reminder of everything you’ve lost. But lately, you’re starting to think about it as everything you could gain and then some.  

“The more you look down, the more the fish are gonna be scared,” you say, breaking the quiet atmosphere. Riki looks at you quizzically. 

“Really?”

“No, but you’re not gonna catch anything faster just by looking down.” His shoulders sag. 

“We’ve been here for so long and nothing has tugged on my line.” 

“Fishing is a game of chance. The fish choose to take your bait if it feels enticed enough.” As if on cue, your fishing rod starts to move. Riki watches you latch onto it while Heeseung turns back when he feels the boat rock underneath him and observes you too. You wrestle with it for a short while before reeling the fish above water and proudly hold it beside you. “Patience is the most important part of fishing. The fish finds you when you least expect it.” Heeseung snorts when you put the fish in the bucket. It takes a great deal out of you not to roll your eyes. 

“You’re so wise,” Riki mutters. 

“I don’t think I’m wise, per se. I just think there’s nothing else you can do when you’re in open water with nothing to distract you.” 

“I’m working on my patience. Moving to Korea made that pretty difficult for me.” 

“Well, you’re moving to a new country. It’s something you’ve never done before, you know? I bet packing was stressful.” 

“I hated every second of it,” he says as he rolls his eyes like you’ve brought out an irritating memory. “I triple checked everything before leaving. I hope I didn’t forget anything back home.” 

“Are you scared to start the semester?”

Riki thinks about it for a second. “Kind of. My Korean is okay, but I still have trouble saying certain words. The culture is different, too. I need to get used to that more. I guess I’m a bit sad that I had to leave my friends and family behind but it’s for the best, isn’t it? I wanted this.” 

You find yourself nodding in agreement. “Yeah. It’s hard to leave everything you know behind.” 

“I cried when I said goodbye to my dance teachers,” Riki admits with a laugh. “I think it was the first time I did that in front of them. We kept bowing to each other until I had to go. It’ll be weird finding a new studio in Seoul but I’m excited about it.” 

“You’re an incredible dancer, Riki. There’s no doubt in my mind that you’ll thrive here.” 

He tries to hide his blush. “Thanks. I’m happy that I know some people already but it’s not the same, you know?” 

“That’s how I feel about moving to Okayama. I know it’ll only be a year, but it feels like I’ll be there for a lifetime.” 

“Do you ever get scared that everything back home will change?” Heeseung, too, is curious about your answer. 

“Honestly? Yeah. Sometimes it feels like everything’s gonna change completely the second I step on that plane. I feel like everyone will forget me and move on.”

Riki looks back at the water. “I wonder if people back home think of me.” 

“They do.” He looks back at you.

“Everyone here will think about you too.” 

A beat passes between the two of you and you start to see Riki for what he is: a smart, sensitive person who disguises himself as somebody who can mask his feelings. What you learn is that your half-brother wears his heart on his sleeve but is careful about who he gives himself too. It’s something you’ve noticed in the time you’ve known him, but this trip is starting to make you think you two are more alike than not. 

“What about you, Heeseung?” Riki asks, turning to look at the eldest. “What are you gonna be doing now that you graduated?” 

“I, uh, start working at a record label pretty soon.” He clears his throat. Knowing you’re looking at him makes this boat feel smaller all of the sudden. 

“You majored in music production, right?” Heeseung nods. 

“Yeah. I’ve always had an interest in music so I learned how to produce during freshman year and started taking it seriously.”

“I’ll bet your perfect pitch helps you a lot.” Heeseung whips his gaze over to you when you speak and you feel your skin burn. You don’t know if you should’ve contributed to the conversation or not. 

“Sure does,” he says awkwardly, looking at the fishing rod between his legs. Heeseung remains quiet when Riki doesn’t prod him further and looks back at the water in front of him. Even in the forced proximity, you still can’t figure out why he chooses to be avoidant. 

Heeseung, on the other hand, finds that there’s much to contemplate about. His life has barely begun and yet he feels the weight of his future hanging in the balance. He’s just moved into his first apartment and will need to furnish it when he gets back from the camping trip. He’s got a mattress with no bed frame and a single loveseat his parents gave him. Aside from his gaming setup, Heeseung’s one bedroom apartment is completely bare. 

Looking at it makes him worry for his future and being around you. You, someone he’s always assumed had it easy because you were academically gifted, makes Heeseung feel like he’s got to step up his game. He hasn’t liked you ever since high school for reasons he justifies as perfectly valid. But high school was years ago and some of his anger has subsided. All that’s left is a faint annoyance and he'd rather be anywhere than next to you. He only said yes to this trip because of the other people who were going as well. 

He’s kept his feelings simmering beneath the surface and chooses to focus on anything but you when he hears you talk. It’s frustrating enough knowing you share a lot of mutual friends, even worse when some of his best friends are people you consider family. He hates that Jake is comfortable enough to hang out with you without anyone else present and loathes that Sunghoon actively wants to become closer to you after he realized the two of you share the same taste in cinema. He especially despises the fact that Riki looks up to you even though, in Heeseung’s eyes, you’ve done nothing to earn it. 

The young teenager met the eldest of the bunch at a bonfire the third time he came to Korea after your mom had forced you to bring him along. You told him absolutely no alcohol no matter if anyone else was going to be drinking and to say no if your friends offered him a beer. He watched you that night, the way you periodically looked at your half-brother but made a lame attempt to include him in conversation. Riki found fast friends in Sunoo and Jungwon after messing around in the shallow waters of the ocean. Heeseung decided that you didn’t deserve that type of respect from Riki at that moment. 

It’s been years since then and he’s seen the two of you grow, albeit slowly. Even in his blind hatred for your existence, Heeseung has always wondered why Riki vies for your attention. In fact, what is it about you that makes everybody fawn over you? Why do you always seem to be the center of attention? Does nobody care about what you did to him all those years ago?

It keeps him up at night to know that nobody around him understands why he’s so angry at you. Above the root cause, you have everything you could ever want. You were the smartest girl in high school and university, and it was no question about what your future would look like. You’d accepted a job opportunity right after graduating and it seemed as though things were merely handed to you without you working that hard for it. You didn’t have to ask for anything. It always seemed as though people could read your mind and always gave you what you wanted. 

Maybe coming to the camping trip was a mistake. He’s been walking on eggshells around you this entire time and feels like he’s suffocating every time his friends laugh at your jokes. Heeseung bites his tongue when he feels himself getting worked up and finds that nothing can get his mind off of you no matter how hard he tries. 

He wonders if you remember that day all those years ago. He wonders if you know just how hurtful words can be and how awful it is to be on the receiving end of utter despair and desperation. Heeseung has always known you to be somebody who knows exactly what you want, too. Teenage angst never stopped you from pursuing higher education. It seemed like you threw everything you had into academics and everyone rewarding you for it made Heeseung want to crumble. Nobody else thought of you the way he did. 

But this is something he’d rather keep to himself. For as much as he refuses to be your friend, he knows nothing good will ever come out of trying to convince everyone you aren’t someone who they should be friends with. After all, you’ll be working in Okayama and with any luck, you’ll make a permanent residence out of Japan. 

Heeseung is distracted from his thoughts when Riki manages to catch a rather large fish. With your help, he’s able to reel it in and watches the younger boy become awestruck at its sheer size. Heeseung watches you congratulating Riki and celebrates this excitement with him as you put the fish in the bucket for safe keeping. It should warm his heart to see a friend of his so happy, but seeing you smiling next to him makes Heeseung feel all the more irritated. The three of you head back to the dock after another couple of hours and a few more dishes later.

Jungwon catches more fish than you do. All eight of you manage to acquire enough for dinner and breakfast in the morning. Jay and Jake have volunteered to help with cooking while the rest of you prepare side dishes and talk about fishing adventures from your time apart. You smile at the group halfway through the conversation, fondness blooming in your chest when everybody is laughing after having eaten dinner. 

“God, I swear I almost fell into the water trying to wrestle with the trout!” Jake shouts amongst the chaotic laughter. “It felt like I was about to become one with the fish.” 

“I almost pushed his ass into the lake,” Jay snorts. “It was so fucking funny.”

“I’m surprised Sunoo caught the most fish out of all of us.” Jungwon shrugs and bites into his s’more. 

“You’re telling me,” Sunoo replies as he wipes chocolate from his lip. “That’s my quota for this trip, though. Don’t expect me to go fishing again.” 

“I’m not ready for this trip to end,” Riki says with a mixed sigh. “We’ve already been here for a couple of days and it feels like time is going by so fast.” 

“I start that consulting job the Monday we go back and I’m excited for it, but I’m also nervous. It hit me on the way back from the lake.” Jay rubs his face with his hands. “This adult shit is scary, man.”

“Do you guys remember when we were all freshmen and had that awful orientation leader?” Heeseung asks. Those who were in the same year as him nod. “That felt like just yesterday and now we’re about to be real adults.”

“Jay’s going to become a financial consultant, you’re working at a record label, Sunghoon’s going to open up his own cafe someday, and I’m about to start a fellowship at a research lab.” Jake shakes his head like he can’t believe it. “Not to mention Y/N’s moving to Japan for work. If you told me four years ago we would talk about the future like this, I would’ve laughed.” 

“It feels a bit weird knowing we aren’t going back to school.” Sunghoon looks at the younger boys and laughs. “Well, sorry to you guys.” 

Sunoo speaks up with a pout. “It’ll be weird not seeing you guys around campus. I’ll miss running into you on my way to class.” 

“Sometimes I wish we could stay in college forever.” Jay reaches over and picks out another marshmallow to put on his stick. “It sucked ass but it was nice living close to you guys.”

“I’m scared to go out there alone.” You tug at the zipper on your jacket and stare at your hands. “I feel like I’m going to mess everything up and fail. I’ll come home and have nothing to show for myself.” 

“Couldn’t have said it any better.” Sunghoon finishes off his s’more and wipes the crumbs off of his lap. “I wish everything was simple and easy. We really had it good back then, didn’t we?”

“Don’t get too caught up in growing up too fast,” Jake says as he pinches Riki’s cheeks for dramatic effect. The latter tries to dodge his touch but fails. He points to Jungwon and Sunoo. “You guys need to make every minute count.”

Jungwon laughs. “You sound like a Hallmark card.”

“Yeah, but one day you’ll be saying the same thing. You’ll go back to campus and you won’t see us walking around.” Jungwon remains quiet after that. 

“You’ll all be fine.” Sunoo nods once and it feels like he’s smiling at everyone individually through the fire. “Life is scary but there’s a reason why we believe in you.”

Jay nudges Sunoo with his knee. “Since when did you get so wise?”

“You could learn a thing or two from me.”

The tension dissipates. Everyone finishes up their desserts and helps tidy up the campsite. Jake and Sunghoon put out the fire while the rest of you put the chairs away and throw out any leftover trash in the nearby garbage bin. One by one, the eight of you start to grow sleepier as time ticks by. You all let your younger friends wash up first as you stifle yawns and prepare your makeshift bedding while you wait. 

It feels like forever to wait with Heeseung close to you. Everybody else bids you goodnight as you brush your teeth in the wash station and rinse your face of dirt and debris from earlier in the day. Heeseung is standing just a few feet away as he waits for you to finish up but knowing he’s watching you makes your heart rate increase. Your hands tremble as you turn the faucet off and it’s just your luck that you trip over yourself and hold onto Heeseung when you turn around to exit the washroom. 

“Watch where you’re going, Y/N,” Heeseung snaps. He shrugs your hands off of him and pushes you away from his body. 

“What the fuck is your problem with me?” If Heeseung is surprised by your sudden outburst, he doesn’t show it. Your typically calm, non-confrontational demeanor is nowhere to be seen. 

“Why can’t you walk properly?” he mocks. 

“You have been so passive aggressive towards me this entire trip. Hell, you’ve been that way since we were in high school. What the fuck is your deal and why can’t you man up and tell me why you hate me so much?” 

His expression sours. “You have some nerve asking me that.” 

“Why?! You won’t tell me what your deal is and I can’t fix it if you don’t communicate that with me. We have so many mutual friends who want us to get along and it’s fine if we’ll never be friends, but really, Heeseung, you’re acting like a child.” 

Heeseung’s nostrils flare and it feels demeaning the way he has to look you down in order to meet your eyes. The twinge in your heart flares when he makes no effort to talk to you further. The tension in his shoulders rises and falls with every second that passes by and you’re starting to wonder if there’s any way you can leave the trip early. 

He doesn’t say anything, though. Heeseung pulls away from you and enters the washroom, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the sound of water running. Years of pushing aside your feelings for the greater good of preserving the peace feels like they’re suffocating you with every step you take as you talk back to your tent. The cold chill of the night bristles through your hair and your watery eyes make you stumble before unzipping your makeshift bedroom. 

“Y/N?” Jungwon asks, half-asleep. He sees you wipe your eyes as you turn away from him and put away your dirty clothes and toiletries. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.” 

He pushes himself up and hears the clip in your tone. With his eyes softening, Jungwon gently touches your shoulder and realizes that your eyes are red before you shut your flashlight off. “Come here.” 

It’s somewhere between a command and a plea. Jungwon doesn’t force you to speak as he pulls your body into his. He doesn’t care that your tears are falling onto his arm and he doesn’t mind that you’ve settled your weight onto his chest. Your silent hiccups make his heart lurch and the best he can do is let you cling onto him in your time of need. 

You don’t get like this often. The last time he remembers you letting him hold you like this was a few days after your parents’ divorce had been finalized. The tangerine-shaped pillow you had was the only thing keeping Jungwon’s back from aching as you spent what felt like hours sobbing between his arms, dirtying his shirt with your hot tears. His heart broke back then, too. He’s not used to seeing you without a smile on your face and every crack in your demeanor lets him know you’re a dam that’s about to burst. 

It can’t be easy to live knowing your father willingly left and chose to leave you behind. Nearly two decades of saying ‘I love you’ and championing his only daughter to be the best version of herself felt like it was all for naught the night he told you he wouldn’t be living with you anymore. You could barely stand watching him pack his belongings and take everything valuable with him. You were unusually quiet during this period of time, too scared to make a sound and make things worse than they already were. 

Jungwon knows you keep your heart locked away in a cage these days. Your friends know you like the back of their hands but it’s been getting harder and harder to coax you out of your shell. He knows it hasn’t been easy with Heeseung within your main friend group and wishes he could do more to quell your anxieties about spending time with him, even if your other friends are there to shield you from his silent torment. 

Your best friend softens a bit when you cling onto his arm, holding him like he’s your lifeline. He pushes his fingers through your hair the way he’s seen your mom do countless times and rocks your body back and forth until you’ve started to calm down. He hears your shallow breaths and holds onto you for the fear that you’ll think he doesn’t want to comfort you if he lets you go. 

“Sorry.” Your voice is brittle and it makes his heart break. 

“You never have to be sorry, Bug. Are you okay?” You shake your head. “Is it something one of us did?” You nod. “Was it Heeseung?” He hates that you start to tear up again. “I’m sorry, Bug. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t understand why he doesn’t like me,” you hiccup. “I don’t know what I did. How can I apologize when I don’t know what I’ve done?” 

Jungwon sighs. He’s with you on this one. “You’re right. I don’t know what’s gotten into him recently but I’m fed up with it too.” 

“We don’t need to be friends but I want him to stop pretending like I ruined his life.” Your best friend nods against you and pushes his cheek against the crown of your head. “Sorry that I woke you up. I feel like a mess.”

“You’re not a mess, Bug. You’ve been tied together with a smile for so long. It’s only natural that you break down every once in a while.”

“You’re very smart, Wonnie.” 

He laughs. “I know. Do you want to cry some more or go to sleep?” Jungwon’s tone lacks any humor tonight. He’s concerned about you in a way that makes you feel like a porcelain doll and while you appreciate it when he pokes fun at you to show how comfortable he is with you, this feels just as nice. 

“I’m ready to sleep.” 

You pull away from him and settle in your sleeping bag, welcoming the calmness that washes over you. Jungwon chooses to stay up just a smidge longer until he’s certain that you’re asleep before he closes his eyes, wishing for better days ahead of you.

***

The trees always seemed taller when you were younger. They stretched for miles and touched the sky from your point of view, almost as if they  could reach the heavens above. You always wondered what it must be like to have lived as long as nature around you. The leaves and branches see all walks of life, from humans to animals, and keep many secrets hidden underneath its shaded areas. It almost feels like they whisper stories back to you when the wind shakes the weakest branches. You always try to listen. 

When you find yourself hiking on another path around the lake, it becomes easier for you to clear your mind and think about all that lies before you. The sounds of birds chirping amongst the blue sky make the environment around you seem picturesque. In all of your ears camping here, you don’t think you’ve ever appreciated it the way you are at this very moment. 

Your friends are scattered in front and behind you, each of them wrapped up in their own conversations. You can feel Jungwon look at you periodically but you silently let him know that you’re doing alright. He worries about you a lot and he has every reason to. Sometimes, you wonder if any part of you is holding him back because he spends so much time looking after you. It used to be the other way around with you watching after him at playgrounds and on your walk home from school. But with your father leaving as soon as you started trying to figure out who you were, it was like a switch had flipped. 

Your best friend has had a few girlfriends here and there but none of them ever lasted long. He reminds you that he’s young and isn’t looking for a life partner at this stage in his life, but you know he worries about you ever since the news of your dad leaving and Riki entering your life turned your world upside down. You wonder if you’re causing him too much stress. 

He always reminds you that you’re the reason he has so many people that he loves. You introduced him to the majority of your friends on this camping trip. You were the one who introduced him to his first girlfriend and why he finds so much hope in all of the small things. Jungwon admires your resilience and ability to stand on your feet after you’ve been knocked to the ground by an unseen force. Your tenacity pushes him to be a better person towards others and to himself, and he’ll remind you every chance he gets. Jungwon believes that you’re okay for now. You know he’ll be there to pick up the pieces if you need him to.

It brings you back to your future and how Jungwon won’t be physically present when you move to Japan. You’ve spent so much time with him and it made you happy when he was accepted into his bachelor program at your university. The two of you have always been close, whether it was because neither of you had siblings and found solace in each another or because of forced proximity from being neighbors, you don’t know. It feels like you’ll be saying goodbye to somebody who you’ve always leaned on. It feels like you’re leaving him the way your dad left you. 

Dealing with the overwhelming guilt of moving to Okayama, the city your father moved to when he left you and your mom, digs a hole deep inside of your chest every time you think about it. It’s probably why you push off discussions about moving whenever you can and change the subject when other people bring it up. You try not to get too irritated whenever your mom talks to you about packing and everything else that’s important when settling in a new country, like a work visa or financial burdens. But every conversation with her about your eventual move feels like a million needles are slowly pricking your skin. Every step feels heavier than the next. 

There’s Heeseung, too, who has been plaguing your mind ever since you awoke. It’s not unlike him to be cold towards you. In fact, you’ve dealt with tuning him out and learned to ignore his quiet scoffs, paying attention to anyone who would give you some of their attention. The accumulation of life stress and the inevitable move has made it so your heart rate can’t seem to be still at any time in the day. Heeseung doesn’t make it any better by snapping at you for treading carefully. This feeling reminds you of the time you tiptoed around your father when you found out about his infidelity being the reason why he chose to leave you and your mother for Okayama. It feels like anticipating a bomb going off. It’s never a matter of if, but when. 

You don’t remember when things changed but you remember it was abrupt and unannounced. One day, the two of you were laughing with bologna sandwiches for lunch and the next, Heeseung was ignoring you like the two of you had never been friends. His stare was just as cold as his tone when speaking. You could never catch his eye when you were with your group of friends and he refused to be alone with you. The hurt that came with his actions felt like a punch in the gut with all you were dealing with back home. 

The reason why it was easy to tune out his friendship was purely because of prioritization. Dealing with empty rooms and the house feeling like a ghost was haunting the walls was by far a greater sadness than losing a friend. But even so, seeing Heeseung laugh with your friends and watching him excel in everything you used to support him in made you feel like you were being left behind. It hurt to attend his basketball games because he no longer looked for your eyes in the stands. He didn’t acknowledge you when your group of friends would head to the nearby diner for a celebratory meal, and he didn’t call you to say goodnight and to thank you for coming to his games and open practices anymore. 

The ghost of your friendship lingered over you like an unwanted guest. It followed you into university after you committed to the same one and it seemed like neither of you could escape one another. Seeing him live a life that you weren’t a part of made your reality sink in–the few years he spent distancing himself from you wasn’t merely a fluke or teenage angst. Heeseung wanted nothing to do with you. You had to learn how to be okay with that. 

Still, you wish you were as tall as the trees around you. Maybe then Heeseung would tell you why he didn’t like you anymore. 

“Y/N, watch out!” 

The warning nearly comes too late. You don’t register a hissing sound until you see a reflection of scales and stumble backwards into somebody who seems to be caught off guard as much as you are. Jake’s warning saved you from a nasty bite from a snake that has slithered away back between the trees but your heart stammers in your chest as you curl yourself further deeper into the person behind you. 

You hate snakes. You’re petrified of them 

Heeseung, to his misfortune, is the person you’ve bumped into. He saw the snake just before Jake said his warning and felt his body freeze in the way yours didn’t. He didn’t have time to move aside and let Sunoo, who he was talking to, move to grab your body and pull you out of harm’s way. He feels your beating chest against his and looks down at you. Heeseung doesn’t think he’s ever seen you like this before. It makes his stomach fall. 

“Y/N is really scared of snakes,” Jungwon says as he walks up to the two of you, offering a quick explanation before Heeseung could say anything about you clinging onto him. “She got bit by one as a kid and it scared her pretty bad.” Heeseung doesn’t push you away. Instead, he lets Jungwon pry you off of his body until you’re able to blink and come to your senses. 

“Sorry.” You throw an apology his way when Jungwon rubs your back. The rest of your friends, who seem to know about your fear, try to give you some space instead of crowding around you. A part of him wants to scoff. The other part of him feels bad for you. It almost makes him feel guilty for being so short with you last night.

“We’re almost at the end of the trail anyway,” Jungwon says. “Let’s finish it and get some lunch.” 

When you all arrive back at the campsite, Jake pulls your water bottle out of your backpack and stands with you while Jungwon lets you stand right beside him in an attempt to calm yourself down. Jay and Sunghoon, not wanting to impede and make things uncomfortable, decide to go on another short hike and let you rest. The sight is a bit unnerving for Heeseung, who has generally only ever thought of you as this self righteous, confident person, to see you in such a state of shock that you could barely look him in the eye like you did the night before. He’s used to you avoiding and ignoring him but he isn’t accustomed to you scurrying away from anything or anyone. 

He’s a bit confused as to why he feels a little guilty for how he spoke to you last night. You were his friend before he decided you weren’t and that feeling of concern is starting to creep back in. Heeseung watches the way you flinch when Jake tries to rub your shoulder and how Jungwon is the only person who seems to know how to get you to relax after the snake incident. 

“Is she really that scared of snakes?” Heeseung asks Sunoo, who stands away from you to give you space. He pretends to be busy picking at his nails to let you have peace and not make you feel overcrowded with two of your friends already by your side. 

“If I tell you, are you going to use that against her?” Sunoo doesn’t typically question Heeseung like this. It startles him but he shakes his head anyway. 

“No,” says Heeseung. “I’m not. I’ve never seen her act like that.”

Sunoo must think the elder is telling the truth. “When Y/N was very young, a snake bit her ankle when her parents weren’t looking. She got scared and tripped over a rock or something, and her entire leg started to bleed and got a pretty bad gash from it. They rushed her to the emergency room and panicked because her leg was covered in blood.”

“That’s it?”

Sunoo glares at Heeseung. “It might not seem like a big deal to you, but that kind of stuff leaves an impression on you when you’re a kid, Heeseung. She’s been pretty terrified of snakes and blood ever since.” 

“Huh. I never knew that.”

“Don’t go barking up that tree. It’s bad enough that you hate her for no good reason.” 

Heeseung looks at Sunoo quizzically when he hears his friend’s harsh tone. “What’s the matter with you?” 

Sunoo scoffs. “Me? What’s the matter with you? I heard you and Y/N last night. You were an ass to her. She’s right, too. How can she apologize for hurting you if you never talk about what she did? 

“Sunoo–”

“Save it, Heeseung.” He straightens his posture. “You’re my friend and I love you, but you’ve been really harsh on Y/N for the past few years. I thought the two of you drifted apart but you clearly have a vendetta against her.”

“I do not have a vendetta against Y/N.”  

“Sure. Whatever you say. Just remember that Y/N’s the reason why you’re on this trip. One veto from her and Jungwon would’ve kicked your ass to the curb. You’re lucky she doesn’t say this shit to anyone.” 

Heeseung looks at his shoes, feeling the heat in his body creep up his neck. He knows Sunoo’s somewhat right. You’re half the reason why this trip exists at all. Even if Jungwon brought the friend group along, it’s you who this campaign tradition belongs to as well. Heeseung bites his tongue and tries his best not to argue with Sunoo. Deep down, the elder knows that he’s been a bit harsh to you and sometimes finds himself regretting the venom he aims directly at you. But then he remembers that incident from all those years ago and feels his anger bubble up inside of him. He pulls his friend away so that none of you hear him. 

“I have a reason not to like her okay?” Heeseung whispers through his teeth. 

“What reason could you possibly have that justifies how shitty you’ve been?”

Heeseung looks around like he’s afraid someone’s listening in. “Second semester, sophomore year of high school. You and Jake were with me doing homework right outside the front gate. We were waiting for my brother to pick us up from school when Y/N told Kim Chaewon that I would never amount to anything because I didn’t have any talent and had to flirt with girls to get them to listen to my music.”

Sunoo looks at Heeseung like he’s sprouted a second head, who looks at the younger boy like he’s waiting for confirmation or validation of sorts with his eyebrows raised as if expecting a certain outcome. Instead, Sunoo slaps him on the back of his head with his palm and scowls. 

“You are so stupid, Heeseung.”

“What the fuck did I do?!” Heeseung soothes the spot where Sunoo hit him. “It was messed up for her to say that. Why are you calling me stupid?”

“Y/N didn’t say that about you. Chaewon did.” 

Heeseung’s eyes grow comically wide. “I know what I heard.” 

“No, you don’t. I remember the moment you’re talking about. You left so fast and didn’t stop when Jake and I called out for you. Chaewon couldn't get another word out because Y/N tore her a new one. Why do you think they aren’t friends anymore?” 

“Well…Because Y/N said that about me. Chaewon was my friend, too.” 

Sunoo shakes his head. “Chaewon said that about you. Not Y/N.”

“That’s not possible…”

“How would you know? You weren’t there. You left before you could hear the full argument.” 

“Sunoo,” Heeseung says, voice quivering from a mixture of guilt and embarrassment. “Please tell me that’s not true.” 

“Do you know how stupid you look knowing you blew off Y/N, the person who defended you, and still talked to Chaewon?” Sunoo shakes his head at Heeseung. “You ended your longest friendship over a misunderstanding and then got closer with the person who actually said those things about you. Imagine how Y/N must’ve felt.” 

Heeseung’s mind starts to recount the days after your argument with Chaewon and how he’d gone out of his way to ignore you in the aftermath. He never gave you an explanation about his absence and why he pulled away, citing that incident as the reason why you didn’t deserve to know in the first place. He thinks about Chaewon and how he didn’t think twice about it because his mind had already been made up. He was still friends with Chaewon, taking pictures with her at parties and talking to her whenever their friend groups hung out together. Not once did he spare a glance to you. 

As his mind starts to wander into nostalgic territory, Heeseung feels his stomach plummet. The sudden urge to rectify his actions overwhelms him and he’s fighting tooth and nail not to cry on the spot. 

When he looks at you now, quiet and hidden within your shared friends, Heeseung can’t help but feel a bit guilty. He suddenly remembers the few moments where you showed a vulnerable side of yourself and allowed him to see you cry after a bad grade or when your middle school friends were being mean towards you. Heeseung recalls all the times he’s ever thought of you as somebody who puts on a brave face and stands back up after feeling the weight of the world crush you to the ground. He thinks about all of the times he’s ever made you feel insignificant to him and feels pins and needles in his footsteps. Heeseung finds himself walking towards you as he’s contemplating his feelings and Jungwon guards you, pushing you behind him. 

“Hey,” Heeseung says awkwardly. He tries to peek at you but doesn’t like seeing you look so helpless. Pathetically, he offers a meek apology. “Sorry about the snake.” 

“It’s fine. Sorry I grabbed you.” For the first time in a long time, Heeseung doesn’t feel annoyed by the thought of you latching onto him. 

“It’s okay. I, uh…wanted to know if you were fine.” Heeseung clears his throat. “Is there anything I can do?” His unfamiliar kindness confuses you and it confuses Jungwon too.

“You know, maybe it would be a good idea if you left the campsite for a while,” Jake suggests from beside Heeseung. “You’re a bit shaken up and you could probably use a change of scenery.” 

“That’s not a bad idea, actually,” Jungwon agrees. “You could leave for a few hours and come back once you’ve calmed down, Bug.” 

You pick at your fingernails. “I feel so stupid for being so scared.”

“It’s not stupid, Y/N.” Jake tilts his head and looks at you with a pout. “It’s something you’re scared of and with good reason. I would’ve been scared shitless if it was closer to me.”

“You could go into town and get some ice cream,” says Jungwon. “You should go to the beach by the highway for a little bit and get your mind off of it.” 

“I-I don’t really want to go alone.”

Heeseung speaks before he can even think about what he’s saying.

“I’ll go with you.” Jungwon and Jake whip their head to their friend. 

“Heeseung–”

“I can drive us,” he says, mouth moving faster than his brain. “I won’t say anything, I swear. I’ll take her to the beach and ice cream if she wants to.” 

Jungwon hesitantly looks at Heeseung. “Are…Are you sure?” 

“Yeah.” He lies straight through his teeth. He doesn’t know if he can sit with you when his whole life has been turned upside down. But it’s too late to backtrack. “I’ve been feeling a little restless here anyway.” 

“I don’t know…”

“Jay isn’t here and he has his keys.” Jake looks at you and nudges your shoulder. “What do you want to do, Y/N?” 

You look up at Heeseung for the first time and he sucks in a breath. It’s like you’re devoid of yourself, fear and anxiety clouding your eyes like you’re petrified to even speak. He watches you lick your lips slowly as if contemplating carefully. “I want to go.”

“Bug, you don’t have to.”

“I know, Wonnie.” You touch his arm and he relents. “I think I need to leave for a little bit and calm down. I should walk on the beach, or something.”

“I can come with you guys.” Riki, who has been silent during this ordeal, speaks up and appears to the other side of Heeseung. “I saw the beach just before we got here. It looks pretty.” 

“That’s a good idea,” Jake nods, looking at you. He softens his tone. “Would that be alright with you?” 

You hum .”Mhm. Yeah, that’s fine. Let me get my wallet.” 

When you leave for your tent, Jungwon looks at Heeseung and stares at him with an expression he can’t read. The silence is deafening and he awkwardly coughs, looking away from his younger friend. 

“Don’t fuck this up,” says Jungwon with a clipped tone. “You’ve been a dipshit and she’s been putting up with it for the sake of everybody else. The last thing she needs is for you to make fun of her and make her feel even worse than she already does.” 

“I won’t, Jungwon. I swear.” 

“I’m choosing to trust you because you’re my friend too, despite everything you feel towards Y/N.” He nods at Riki. “You, keep an eye out for them.”

“I won’t do or say anything,” Heeseung promises for a second time. You come back a moment later, oblivious to the tension. 

“Be safe, yeah?” Heeseung hears the change in Jungwon’s tone when talking to you. “Call me if you need anything. Your phone’s charged from the portable, right?”

“Yeah.” You hold up your phone to show him. “I’ll let you know when we’re coming back.” 

The beach itself is nestled towards the end of the highway where the sand meets the trees. The small shops around it bring a sense of nostalgia, especially when Heeseung parks in front of a large, tattered orange sign that says “ICE CREAM SOLD HERE.” The three of you walk inside and Heeseung watches you look over the flavors. 

“They change the flavors all the time based on the season,” you say absentmindedly. The three of you are the only customers and he figures the employee must be in the back. 

It’s a bit strange to be spending time with you apart from everybody else. Even though Riki’s accompanying the two of you, he hasn't been alone with you like this in years. You seem to be doing a little better with distance put between you and the campsite. Heeseung hopes the drive wasn’t too terrible. His knuckles turned white with the grip he had on the steering wheel, too afraid to look into the rearview mirror for the fear of catching your eye. He wonders if you’d be able to read his mind in the way you once did. 

You make small talk with the owner of the shop who recognizes you before ordering. Riki and Heeseung follow too, the youngest trying a few flavors before settling on one. You go to pay for your own until Riki pulls out his wallet and pays for the both of you. Heeseung watches the two of you argue before the owner accepts Riki’s card. He’s pulled out of his thoughts before paying for his own cup. 

The beach is right next door and the three of you leave your shoes inside Heeseung’s trunk before stepping onto the warm sand. The sun’s high in the sky and Heeseung’s grateful that he chose to put on extra sunblock before leaving his tent. Riki follows you towards the water. He chooses to stay behind and give you both space even though his heart is telling him not to. 

Heeseung has always believed in telling the truth because it’ll always see the light at the end of the day. He’s a fan of honesty and it’s something he values in all of his friends. He thought he’d found that in you ever since the day the two of you started becoming friends and felt his world shatter around him when he thought you were making fun of his aspirations to become a music producer. You’d spent countless hours in his bedroom with him as he learned how to use proper equipment and went so far as to buy him a few things here and there disguised as birthday and Christmas gifts. You spent so much time listening to him grow as a musician in the comfort of his bedroom. The thought that you were pretending to care about him made Heeseung feel sick to his stomach. It wasn't hard for him to cut you off when he thought you betrayed him.

But now, life feels like it’s at a stand still. You stand before him and Heeseung’s throat closes up like he’s lost the ability to breathe. You might not even know that you’re the reason for his inner turmoil. You probably don’t care. Why would you when he’s pushed you so far from arm’s length? Heeseung sighs to himself and replays every single interaction he’s ever had with you after deciding to cut you out of his life. The guilt piles up on him before he can stop it from stacking until it eventually makes his skin feel like it’s been set on fire. He’ll have to sit with the fact that he’s made you out to be a cruel, terrible friend instead of the person who would defend him to hell and back.

What must you think of him now? For a long time, it took Heeseung great strength to push you into the far corners of his mind and stop seeking you out whenever you were near him. He trained himself to look away from you, the weight of your alleged words playing in the back of his mind whenever he felt the urge to talk to you like old times. Heeseung stopped communicating with you altogether, unfollowing you on all of your social media and physically removing you out of his life so he wouldn’t have to see your face when he least expected it. 

But now it feels like the last six years of his life have been a lie. He’s been living in his own world, wrapped up in a delusion that only he was able to clearly see. The memory was too painful to say out loud let alone tell a soul. Heeseung kept his heart guarded and offered a brief explanation whenever your mutual friends asked why the two of you weren’t close anymore and he’d shut you down if you tried to talk to him until your efforts ceased. 

When he looks at you now, all he feels is regret. 

Riki walks back towards Heeseung, who’s perched on a bench right on the sand. His ice cream is discarded in the nearby trash can and Riki eats whatever’s left in his cup before tossing it away. The two of them sit in silence. Riki basks in the salt air and relishes in the sound of birds chirping and waves crashing onto the shore. Heeseung can only hear his heart beating in his ears. 

“She’s doing okay,” Riki says, breaking the silence. “I think her shock and adrenaline are wearing off.” 

“Good,” Heeseung nods. “That’s really good.” 

“I could tell she wanted to be left alone after a little while. I hope she’ll be fine when we go back.” 

“I’m sure she will be.” 

Riki nods and looks back at you. “Have you ever seen her get like that?” 

“Maybe once or twice. We stopped being close in high school.” 

“Oh, yeah. Right.” 

“But she always bounced back,” Heeseung adds quickly. “Like you said, she’ll be fine.”

“I didn’t even know she was scared of snakes.” 

Heeseung laughs. “Me either.” The silence permeates until Heeseung speaks again. “Can I ask you a question?” 

“Since when have you ever asked me if you could ask me something?” 

“Fair point.” Heeseung rubs his palms against his thighs. “I don’t really know where to start.”

“The beginning is usually the best place.” 

“You know how I feel about Y/N. How I felt about her. I told you so many times to stop expecting people to treat you the way you want to be treated if they didn’t put in the effort to make you feel welcomed.” Heeseung looks at the younger boy. “Why did you keep defending?” 

“Are you asking me because you’re worried about Y/N or because you have some weird thing with her?” 

“I’m asking because I’m starting to think I was wrong about her.” Riki must think Heeseung is telling the truth because he nods after a moment. 

“How much do you know about Y/N’s family life?”

“I know she has a mom and that Jungwon’s parents are like her own. I also know her parents got divorced and that her dad left just before she graduated high school.” 

“Right.” Riki coughs nervously. “How much do you know about our relationship?” 

“You two are half-siblings.” 

“That’s all?” 

Heeseung shrugs. “I never questioned it.” 

“Okay, yeah. That makes sense.” Riki looks down at his lap like he’s trying to figure out what to say. “I don’t really know if this is my place to say it but I want you to know so you can stop thinking Y/N’s the Devil.” 

“I don’t think she’s the Devil.” 

Riki chuckles. “Sure. To put it simply, she's my half-sister because her dad cheated on her mom with mine. He’d go on business trips to Japan a few times a year and they hit it off after they met. One thing led to another and they started meeting up whenever he was back in town. 

“They had me a year after they first started their affair and I guess he was able to keep his life in Japan a secret until Y/N found pictures on her dad’s laptop. She saw pictures of us on vacations when her dad was supposed to be on work trips. I think she told her mom about it and that’s around the time I found out he had another family too.” 

“What was going through your head back then?” 

“Well, my mom told me my dad had to live in Korea for work. I believed it until I was seven, maybe? I’d always ask her questions as I got older but she either brushed me off or told me things that didn’t add up. He’d come more frequently the older I got. We didn’t talk on the phone much when he was over in Korea, though, so seeing him in person used to be extra special. 

“Then I found out that he had an affair because he came to live with us full time when I was twelve. My mom told me everything when he moved in and I felt like my entire life was a lie. I couldn’t look at either of them the same.” 

“Wow…I can’t imagine going through that.” Heeseung’s words hang in the air. 

“Yeah. It was hard. I hated Y/N for a while. I hated that she got to see my dad more than I did when I found out. My friends used to make fun of me because he wasn’t around for my dance competitions and showcases. I always defended him and said he was working in Korea to make a better life for us. It’s what I believed at the time.” 

“And your mom let you believe all of that?”

Riki shrugs. “I guess so. She hated Y/N and her mom. She always talked down on them when my dad moved in and I felt that my anger was justified too. My mom hated the fact that my dad still wanted to keep Y/N in his life and wouldn’t fully abandon her the way he did hid with his ex-wife. Some of his paycheck would go towards Y/N’s college fund and my mom tried everything in her power to stop him from giving her money but he gave her an ultimatum, so she stopped complaining. 

“He took me to Korea once. I was fourteen, I think. I met my dad’s parents and we stayed with them for a while. I don’t know why he took me there since I could barely speak the language but he said he wanted me to get to know where he grew up and integrate myself in the culture since he was trying to be a present father. That was the first time I met Y/N. I had my mind made up and decided I hated her the first time I saw her. She couldn’t have been older than seventeen. I hated that she looked just like me. 

“When we met for the first time, we didn’t really get along. Both of us didn’t talk and our dad tried so hard to form a bond between us but it didn’t work. I didn’t want anything to do with her because all I could think about was how she got to spend so much time with him while I only got to see him for a week or so a few times a year.” 

“What made you change your mind?” Heeseung asks. 

“When we got back to Japan, my mom kept saying all of these mean things about Y/N and her family,” Riki continues. “I wasn’t her biggest fan but the stuff she was saying was cruel and untrue. I knew it was pure jealousy and realized that my mom helped break up a perfectly good family. I mean, I knew it was my dad’s fault for cheating on his wife and leaving Y/N also, but coming to that realization made me think about how Y/N must’ve felt when she found out.”

“Wow…I didn’t know any of this.”

“As far as I can tell, Jungwon’s the only person she’s told.” Riki sighs and pushes his fingers through his hair. “Anyway, at that point, neither one of us cared to keep the relationship going. I didn’t call her and she didn’t call me. But the more my parents started living their lives like they hadn’t made two people fall apart, the more I started to feel sorry for Y/N. I can’t imagine finding out your dad cheated on your mom and then willingly left you for another family. Our dad brought me back to Korea a few times after that for winter and summer breaks to stay with his parents. He said he wanted me to experience life abroad. He’d bring me to family events and I always felt so out of place.”

“Wait, seriously?” Heeseung asks in disbelief. 

“Yeah, if you can believe it. I felt so guilty coming to these things. It was actually Y/N’s mom who told her to start being more open to me. I can’t explain how awful I felt when I realized she was making an effort to include me even though I was someone from her ex-husband’s affair. When my dad was trying to get back in everyone’s good graces, Y/N’s mom was making sure I had enough food and water.

“I slowly started to realize that Y/N was hurting too. She had everything I wanted but it felt like I was the one who took that away from her. I thought, maybe if my mom wasn’t pregnant with me, her dad would’ve never continued the affair and she would’ve never found out he cheated.”

“That’s why you defend her, isn’t it? Even when I thought she was being unfair?” 

Riki laughs. “Yeah, man. I’ve known about her longer than she’s known me and I’ve known about the affair longer than she has. I’ve had more time to get used to it. I don’t blame her for pushing me away. If I found out I had a half-sibling because my dad cheated on my mom, I think I’d react the same way.” Heeseung’s heart feels much heavier than it did prior to this conversation. “We’ve been getting better. She texts me first every now and then and she keeps up with my dancing stuff. It’s not like we’re total strangers anymore. I mean, she likes me enough to let me be friends with you guys. It’ll just take some time.”

“Do you want her to be in your life? And do you want to be in hers?” 

Heeseung watches Riki nod without a second doubt. “Absolutely. I love Y/N now. She’s my sister even if she only thinks of me as her half-brother. I know we’ve had it rough in the past but she looks out for me. Y/N’s smart and confident in all the ways I wish I could be. I love listening to her talk and I love learning new things about her. I always wished for a sibling and even though this isn’t how I imagined it going, I’m happy.” 

The two of them sit in another round of silence. Heeseung does his best to process everything Riki has just told him but it feels like there’s too much information for him to digest all at once. He never knew any of this about you, too caught up in his own feelings about the misunderstanding. While he was giving you the cold shoulder, you were crumbling apart because your dad left for another family. If he knew any of this back then, Heeseung thinks he would be sympathetic. But he can’t turn back the clock. He watches you stand by the water with your empty ice cream up in your hands and wonders what you’re thinking about. 

“Wait,” Heeseung says, cutting the silence for the umpteenth time. “You’re from Okayama.” Riki nods. “You’ve lived in Okayama until you moved here.” 

“Yeah, that’s right.” 

“And Y/N’s moving to Okayama for work.” Riki nods solemnly. “You’re telling me Y/N’s moving to the city your dad moved to when he left her?” The younger boy nods again. “Shit.”

“With everything going on in her life, I don’t expect her to have it all figured out. Sure, it hurt when she didn’t want to spend time with me but I don’t think I can really be mad at her when this is how her life is. Okayama is a big city but the world is pretty small.”

“That’s fucked up. That’s really, really fucked up.” 

“I’m pretty sure she’s scared about running into our dad. Lord knows I came to study in Korea because I didn’t want to be around him anymore,” Riki scoffs. “I know that I have my own shit to deal with and that I’ll probably need to find a therapist when I start school but for now, I’ll focus on Y/N. I’m happy she let me come on this trip because I know how much camping with Jungwon means to her. I can somewhat empathize with her about moving to a place that didn’t feel like home because of your dad.” 

Heeseung looks at Riki and doesn’t expect him to look as tranquil as he does, but he looks at you like you’re the person giving him this grace and maturity. “Fuck, Riki. I’m really sorry that you had to deal with this. Do the other guys besides Jungwon know?”

“Not as much as you do, they just know something happened with my parents and that’s why I don’t want to go back to Okayama. I don’t think Y/N’s told anybody else, so please don’t tell her you know.”

“I won’t,” Heeseung promises. “I swear on it.” 

“Good. I trust you and you’ve been a good friend to me.” 

“Sorry for giving you a hard time about her too.” 

“It’s fine now. Just…promise me you won’t be so harsh on her. She’s been through a lot and I can tell she’s really not happy about the move even though the job opportunity is really good for her career.” 

“Of course.” 

You walk back towards them and the two boys stand up and pretend as if they weren’t speaking in depth about you. Heeseung, for the first time, smiles at you without restraint and it makes you feel confused as you shake off the sand and head back into his car. 

On the entire drive back to the campsite, Heeseung lets Riki control the music and thinks about their previous conversation. He had no idea this is what you were dealing with and always thought you stopped talking to him because you didn’t think it was worth being friends either. He doesn’t remember much about the last few years of high school, apart from avoiding you when you were around, but now he wishes he would’ve paid more attention. Even though what’s past is past, Heeseung wishes he could turn back time and stop himself from making a false assumption. 

He parks the car sooner than he realizes and Riki hands Heeseung back his phone. You step out of the car and look far better than you did before the impromptu trip. Heeseung can’t help but jog after you. 

“Hey,” he calls out. You’re pulled out of your thoughts when you hear his voice and look at him, perplexed. “Are you feeling better now?” 

“Um, yeah.” You look at Heeseung like you don’t know what he wants from you and he’s starting to hate that he’s made you feel this way for so long. 

“Good. That’s good.” Heeseung clears his throat. “I, uh, wanted to apologize for what I said to you last night. That was out of line. I’m really sorry.” The gears turn in your head and he can see you processing his apology slowly. 

“Yeah, well, if you have a problem with me then you should either tell me why or leave me alone.” Your words lack any venom like they did last night but they’re replaced with something more raw and callous. He almost wishes you would yell at him. 

“I know.” He really does. “But I really am sorry. For everything.” Heeseung can’t find the words to elaborate how he feels, not when he sees your shared friends in front of him. 

You look at him and he feels like you might as well be looking into his soul. Without another word, you leave him with his thoughts and rejoin the rest of the group. 

***

It’s nearing the end of the trip and Heeseung feels like he needs to get you alone to apologize for a million things. Guilt courses through his body when he’s awake and it only ceases when he’s asleep. He does his best to keep a straight face when he’s around everybody else and he’s sure they’re all picking up on the fact that he hasn’t been avoiding you like he did when you all first arrived. 

But it’s hard to get you alone. He knows you likely wouldn’t hear him out if he asked you to talk. Even so, he doesn’t know if he knows everything he wants to say. Heeseung is sure everyone else will want to know why he asked to talk to you and make a big deal out of it too, but he can’t say he blames them when he’s the one who has put so much tension between the two of you. Being nicer towards you with intention is not normal for Heeseung. He wishes that weren’t the case. 

It’s a warm day outside and everybody’s agreed to go kayaking in the lake. The water is calm and there are a few families and groups who’ve decided to do the same thing. Everybody fastens life vests and hops into their own kayak before setting out on the water. 

Heeseung wants to enjoy being out on the water but his mind keeps coming back to you. He wonders deeply about the past he shares with you and what would’ve been if he hadn’t made those assumptions all those years ago. He knows he’s always been a bit too prideful for his own good, putting himself above the opinions of others without thinking twice. He’s got tough skin and likes that he’s developed a sense of confidence and identity, especially because he wants to pursue a career in music, but now he wonders if he’s too confident. 

The reason why your words hurt more than he’d care to admit is because he harbored a pathetic crush on you ever since you wrote him a letter for his thirteenth birthday. He’d just gotten the hang of making music on GarageBand and by the time his birthday rolled around, Heeseung wanted to show some of his friends what he’d been learning after school. October came quickly and he invited his closest friends to his house for some cake and to jump in the large bouncy house his parents rented for him. The warm afternoon is forever etched into his memory because everyone Heeseung cared about in his first year being a teenager was there to support the beginning of his music interest. 

Heeseung remembers the gift he unwrapped from you and your parents. It was a CD of his favorite album and one of those plastic statues with an award title etched into the base. It read “BEST MUSIC PRODUCER” on it and Heeseung thought it was the best gift he received that year. What made that warm afternoon even more special was when you pulled him aside to give him a handwritten note. He remembers your shy voice telling him not to open it until everybody was gone and said you wanted to give the letter to him in private when nobody else was looking because your parents didn’t know you’d done this. He kept that card on his desk until everybody left, promising to read it as soon as he was alone. 

You wrote to his yearning heart, the side of him that wanted to make music so badly that he’d sit in his room until the late hour with a lamp shining over his desk to write songs until his hand hurt from holding his pen. Heeseung would hunch over his desk during school and scribble down lyrics in the margins of his assignments. It always felt like he was the only person who felt this way most times and felt like his peers couldn’t understand why he loved making music so much. Reading your letter made Heeseung feel less alone, as if you were always watching over him and seeing his passion when he thought nobody else could. 

That note alone solidified his blooming crush and suddenly, every love song he wrote was dedicated to you. Details about you were weaved into his songs–the sound you made when you laughed, the stickers you used to collect, and the number on your childhood home–it all became important to him. It was almost like Heeseung could talk to you through his music without saying a single word. He could let his songs do the talking for him. 

Of course, thinking you were the one who said he didn’t have any real talent made his hopes and dreams shatter into a million pieces. He always felt like your champion and that pursuing his passion wasn’t so scary if he had you by his side. The world felt like it was crashing all around him to the point where he considered giving up on making music altogether. For that, he would never forgive you. But it’s different now. Heeseung knows you’re not to blame. The culpability doesn’t lie on your shoulders, even if that’s what Heeseung thought for all these years. 

Heeseung roams around the lake in silence, letting the birds chirp uninterrupted. The sound of his boat sailing against the water beneath him does something to soothe his aching heart for the time being. He sees you not too far ahead with Sunghoon a bit behind you when he sees you reach for the paddle that fell from your grip. His heart stops when your kayak tips over when you've reached too far. 

He wastes no time and rows his boat with all his might after hearing your yelp. His arms burn as he pushes through the water but before he can get any closer to you, Sunghoon has jumped out of his kayak to help you back to the surface. He’s able to drag you to the shore nearby and takes off your life jacket when the two of you are sitting on the edge of dry land. Heeseung manages to haul your kayak and paddle while Jay, who also saw the incident, grabs Sunghoon’s. The two of them wordlessly make their way to you and Sunghoon.

Heeseung sees and hears you coughing but he’s also aware of the fact that you’re situated between Sunghoon’s arms. He’s got you securely wrapped between him as you regain your breath. It’s selfish to even consider the idea that he might be jealous but he can’t help it, especially since you’re gripping onto his arms like he’s your lifeline. 

“Shit, Y/N,” Jay says as he takes his life jacket off. Heeseung does the same and parks his boat to get out of the water. “Are you okay?”

“Mhm,” you mutter, catching your breath from the water that’s still lodged in your throat. “Jesus, I didn’t think that would happen.”

“You gave me a heart attack.” Sunhoon laughs from behind you but doesn’t push you away just yet. Heeseung watches you.

“I got your boat and paddle,” he says pathetically, feeling awkward when the three of you look at him. “I’m glad you’re okay.” 

“Thanks.” You cough when you speak and Sunghoon rubs your back gently. “Why does this shit keep happening to me?” 

“Maybe Heeseung’s bad luck,” Sunghoon snickers. There’s no real animosity in his tone but Heeseung feels upset nonetheless. 

“Sorry,” he finds himself apologizing. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” you tell him, leaning back against Sunghoon as you catch your breath. “I think that’s enough kayaking for today, though.”

Jay laughs. “Yeah, you can say that again. I’m getting hungry anyway. Sunoo and Riki are probably complaining about that too.” 

At dinner, the eight of you sit around the fire as Jay, with the help of Riki and Sunoo, prepare and serve the food. The warm food satisfies everyone and everybody takes turns swapping stories about kayaking, and everybody laughs when Sunghoon recounts the story of you tipping over your boat. Riki keeps your plate full and tries to give you more meat but you shake your head. He pouts and you eventually relent, and that makes Heeseung smile.

He can feel Jungwon looking at him. The younger boy sits next to Heeseung and looks at him every so often, especially when you start talking or when the topic of discussion falls onto you. He ignores it to the best of his ability because he’s sure his friend has picked up on the fact that he’s not acting like he’s not interested anymore. When Jungwon pulls him aside when everybody leaves to get ready for bed, he isn’t surprised. 

“What’s up with you?” Jungwon asks quizzically. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I mean either, Heeseung. You were acting weird at dinner.” 

“To make a long story short, the reason why I didn’t like Y/N all this time was because I thought she was the one who said I would never make it in music. Sunoo told me it was Chaewon, not Y/N.” 

Jungwon’s eyes open comically. “That’s the reason you didn’t like Y/N?!” Heeseung smacks his shoulder and shushes him. “You know if you just, like, told any of us why you were so mad at her, we could’ve solved this and you wouldn’t have lost a friend.” Ouch. 

“Yeah,” Heeseung replies, looking at the ground below him, “I know. I feel like an idiot and I feel guilty. I want to make it right with her but I’ve acted like such an ass. I told myself it was for the better.”

“You really were an ass,” Jungwon agrees. “Did you know she almost pulled out of this trip when she found out you were going?”

Heeseung’s shoulders slump. “I fucked up, Won. You’re her best friend and I put you in an uncomfortable position too. I’m sorry. I want to make things right but we haven’t had a real conversation in years.” 

“You’re going to have to do a lot more than apologize.” Jungwon sighs and beckons Heeseung to sit down on a log next to him. “She doesn’t hate you, Heeseung. Y/N’s sensitive, you know? She’s sensitive in the way that she feels things pretty deeply and doesn’t push things aside anymore. Back in high school, she went through something pretty life changing that forced her to shut down and all she wanted was to reach out to you but you iced her out.” 

“I feel awful. She has every right to hate me.”

“That’s the thing, Heeseung. Y/N doesn’t hate you. She doesn’t understand what she did that made you pull away and she’s hurt that you won’t talk to her about it. She’s done all she can trying to get through to you but she’s given up because that didn’t seem like it was going anywhere.”

“Can I ask you something?” Jungwon nods. “If…If I talked to her, apologized and tried to tell her what was going on at the time, do you think she’d forgive me?” 

Heeseung waits for his friend to answer. “I think she would appreciate that you put in the effort to be there for her. She still cares about you even if she says she doesn’t.”

“I don’t know about that.” 

“I do. I’m her best friend, Heeseung.” The elder nods. “What I’m saying is this: All Y/N has ever wanted was for you to make an effort for her. When you stopped being her friend, she wondered for months if she was a bad person because you didn’t talk to her about why you pulled away so suddenly. Apologizing doesn’t mean the two of you will go back to the way you used to, but she’ll appreciate that over distancing yourself because you feel guilty.” 

That last part hurts to hear but he understands. “Do you think Y/N and I could ever be friends?” 

Jungown nods. “Yeah, actually. I can tell that you’re being upfront with me right now. You know how she is. She values honesty and loyalty. Of everyone in our friend group, Y/N is the one who’s really good at communicating and giving advice about that kind of stuff. She doesn’t need you to go above and beyond for her. It might take time but I know she’d appreciate it if you at least made an effort to talk to her and clear up some stuff.” 

Heeseung is lost in thought and barely hears Jungwon tell him he’ll try his best to let the two of you talk tomorrow night after dinner. He doesn’t know how to thank him other than to pull him into a tight embrace and cling onto the younger boy like he’s got something to lose. Jungwon seems to understand where Heeseung is coming from–he, too, has had his fair share of arguments with you–so he hugs him back as if to say everything will be alright. 

When you wake up the next morning, a weird feeling settles in your chest. Jungwon is fast asleep when you leave the tent to get ready for the day after failing to fall asleep. The sun is already up and you don’t know what time it is, but the morning is cold and the sweater you have on protects you from the chill nicely. 

You see Heeseung at the wash station and grip your toiletry bag when he spots you. Awkwardly, you step into the bath house and turn the faucet on as he brushes his teeth, motioning yourself to do the same thing. He watches you from the mirror as you keep your eyeline straight in front of you. He wants to say something to you, perhaps “good morning” or “how did you sleep?” but nothing seems good enough. You, on the other hand, feel like Heeseung may as well put you under a microscope. 

“Can I help you?” 

He looks at you as if he’s been caught with his hand down the cookie jar. “N-No. Sorry.” You sigh and resume brushing your teeth when he spits and rinses his mouth of the toothpaste. “I mean what I said I was sorry. I really am.”

“For which part? Cussing me out or avoiding me since high school?” You sound tired. 

“All of it,” he says quietly. You keep your head straight while he looks at you. “I have no excuse. I’ve been acting like a dick towards you and I feel awful.” You don’t say anything. “I…I thought you were the one who said I wouldn’t make it as a producer. I didn’t know it was Chaewon who said it and that you were the one who defended me. I was stupid and angry, and I took it out on you without knowing the whole truth. 

“I didn’t find out until Sunoo told me yesterday. I didn’t talk about that with anyone since we were friends, you know? I was so hurt but I didn’t know that it was my fault for making myself feel like that…And in turn, I made you feel like you didn’t have a place in my life. I’m so, so sorry that I treated you like you didn’t mean anything to me when you did.” 

You don’t look at him as you finish your morning routine. He stands there awkwardly, waiting for you to say something. 

“I went through a lot of shit back then,” you say, turning to face him. “My dad left just after you stopped talking to me and all I wanted to do was talk to you about it. You always knew what to say to make me feel better but then you started ignoring me like I never mattered to you. Do you know how badly that hurt to have one of my best friends stop giving a shit about me? 

“I watched you hang out with our mutual friends. I watched you do really cool things with music but I did all of that on the sidelines because you never included me, even though I was the only person who really supported you., I don’t think you really get that there were so many people back then who just wanted to be your friend because a few of your songs blew up on the internet. I watched you keep them close while you pushed me aside without giving me the chance to make up for whatever I did to make you upset. 

“I’ve spent the last few years trying to be okay with the fact that you didn’t want to be friends anymore. I tried so hard to accept that you and I would only be people who saw each other in passing. But that hurt. It hurt so much to think you didn’t care about me for one second and didn’t care that I was upset too.” 

Your confession hangs in the air and Heeseung feels like crying when he sees that you’ve started to tear up. You wipe them away aggressively, too embarrassed to be seen weeping in front of him. 

“I’m sorry.” Heeseung’s voice cracks. “I am, Y/N. You were so good to me and I took that for granted.”

“Yeah, you could say that.” 

“I can’t make excuses for myself back then but I want you to know I own up to everything. I’m sorry that I let you feel like that and wasn’t mature enough to talk to you. I know I’m too late, but you deserve an apology. You deserve more than that.” 

Heeseung thinks you’re going to storm past him like he did a few nights prior. He thinks you might spit in his face and tell him to go to hell. But all you do is stare at him in silence. 

“I’ve wanted to hear you say that for a long time,” you tell him. “So thanks for that. I feel beyond hurt by everything you did and everything you’ve ever said since we stopped being friends. All I have ever wanted was to be in the same room and not worry about if you wanted me there or not. This entire trip has felt like walking on eggshells around you.” He lets you step around him and out of the bath house. 

“I don’t hate you either, Heeseung. I know you probably think that I do but I don't.” 

***

The rest of your friends can tell something’s going on between the two of you but choose not to comment on it. Everybody is off doing their own thing, as today is the last day of camping, and nobody wants to accidentally spoil it. You and Jungwon decide to head over to your “secret spot,” just the two of you, for old time’s sake.

“I’ll miss you when I leave Korea,” you say as the two of you sit on the ground. “I don’t know how I’m gonna do any of this without you, Wonnie.”

“I know you’re scared of the future and about your dad asking to see you, but you’ve got to know that you’re stronger than any of us. You’re like, a superhero, or something.” 

“Now you’re just being corny.” 

Jungwon laughs. “Yeah, maybe I am. But seriously, Y/N, I’ve always liked that you were able to find some of your optimism again. You make me feel like things will get better for me too. I can’t sit here and pretend I know what you’re going through, but I’ll always be here for you. My parents will too.”

“I still remember the look on their faces when my mom broke the news,” you snort. “They looked like they were ready to go to prison for murder.” 

“I’ve never seen them so angry. I felt like castrating your dad.” 

“Didn’t we all?” 

“But at least we got Riki out of it.” You smile fondly. Jungwon wants to tell you he’s proud of how far you’ve come, but decides to keep that to himself for now.

“I love him, you know. Even if I don’t really say it. I think it was hard for me to be able to say I loved him without feeling guilty. I thought I was betraying my mom if I gave Riki a chance and seeing her step up to be a parental figure when my dad was too busy mingling with our side of the family was hard. We’ve never talked about it but I know she doesn’t hate Riki. She wouldn’t have forced me to spend time with him if she did.

“He’s such a bright kid and he’s so talented. It makes me happy when people recognize that too. He taught me a lot about prioritizing my feelings. Learning to re-evaluate my life when Riki showed up made me feel, I don’t know, more mature? Like, I can be upset and still care about people because we all make mistakes and none of us asked to be here.” 

Jungwon lets a beat of silence pass before speaking. “Did Heeseung talk to you?”

“This morning. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I saw him acting a bit different at the bonfire last night and asked him if anything happened. He told me why he was so mad at you for so long and said he wanted to apologize.”

“Men are so fucking stupid,” you sigh, bringing your knees to your chest. “I don’t understand why he didn’t talk to me in the first place.”

“Me either, honestly. But at least he’s making an effort. Isn’t that what you said you wanted?” 

You nod. “Yeah. Feelings are complicated. I’ve been angry for so long. I always thought I’d yell at him and give him a piece of my mind, or something. I thought I would hate him and tell him to forget about me. But when he apologized, he said it in a way that made me believe he meant it. It didn’t feel like he was bullshitting me. I felt stuck.” 

“What did you end up saying?” 

“I told him how hurt I was during that time and said I wished he was there for me like I was for him when I was dealing with my dad. I told him how I wished we could’ve talked it out.” 

“That’s a good start.” 

“I don’t think we’ll ever go back to the way we were but I also know Heeseung. I know it took a lot out of him to set aside his pride and put somebody else first. I don’t really know what I’m gonna do now. All I know is I’m tired of being upset and I want to feel okay.”

Jungwon nudges your shoulder with his. “You’ll be just fine. The universe moves for you, Y/N. There’s no way you won’t have a happy ending.” He watches you hide a smile. 

“You are such a sap.” 

“It’s what you love about me.” 

“Unfortunately.” You’ll really miss him. “I gotta take it one day at a time, right? Heeseung is going to be in my life for a long time since we share so many friends. Riki loves him too, and I guess I can’t hate Heeseung too much for looking out for him. I don’t think I have any room to think about it when I get back because I’ll be doing some last minute packing and getting ready to move.” 

“It’ll be over before you know it. But even then, you’re going to have the best time in Okayama. Fuck your dad and all of the bad shit.”

“Yeah,” you laugh. “Fuck my dad.” 

The end of the trip is bittersweet. You start to tear up when you see the campsite completely empty and move slowly to pack everything in the cars. Heeseung notices but doesn’t say anything, offering to grab whatever’s in your hands when he sees you looking out into the clearing for extended periods of time. He doesn’t pretend to know what you’re feeling but he knows he doesn’t like it when you cry.

He watches you get into Jay’s car and wishes that you could be comfortable sitting alone with him. While Jake mans the aux, Heeseung thinks about what might happen when you move away. Will the two of you remain how you are or will you grow apart? Is there any room for him in your life now that you’re off to explore a different part of the world? Will he ever be able to push past the gnawing feeling of pushing his pathetic crush on you down until he no longer thinks of you like that?

He’s never admitted it, but those feelings he had towards you all those years ago never really went away. Heeseung doubled down on his irritation because doing otherwise would allow all of those romantic feelings to overwhelm him. He kept his head down around you because he knew one look at you would be enough to throw his inhibitions away and he was afraid he would risk everything he’s ever wanted just for you to tell him you love him too. Now that he knows everything was a misunderstanding, the grave loss weighs on him. He’s got a million thoughts running through his mind and none of them seem to make any sense. These romantic feelings didn’t lie dormant for all of these years, right? 

The next week and a half feels like it passes by too quickly for the both of you. You finish packing the morning of your going away party that everyone helped set up and plan. Your mom, along with Jungwon’s parents, all of your friends and their parents, and Maeumi, presentes you with the kind of happiness you never want to forget. Even Heeseung, who shows up and gives you a letter when no one else is looking, makes you feel like you would be dearly missed. You’re not sure that you enjoy being the center of attention, but everybody’s kindness makes you feel like you deserve to be. 

It’s late when they leave and socializing makes you feel far more exhausted than you anticipated. Your flight is midday tomorrow but you try not to think about that. Heeseung’s letter sits on the edge of your bed and the green envelope–your favorite color–stares at you like it’s begging you to open it. And open it you do. 

Y/N–

I don’t know where to start. I’m sorry, first of all, for treating you the way I did. I was a sorry excuse for a friend. I should’ve talked to you instead of jumping to conclusions and it doesn’t matter that we were both young. Friends annoy each other but they don’t disrespect one another. I’m so sorry that I made you doubt yourself. 

I’ll miss you a lot when you’re in Japan. We didn’t get the chance to talk it out and I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me after you leave. You deserve people who will be there for you. But please know I’ll always be rooting for you. 

Lastly…I don’t know if this is my place to say this but here goes nothing. Back when we were close, the one thing I loved about you was how passionate you were about life. You loved to learn and explore new things, and you always made me feel like I could feel that way too. I know you’re scared about Okayama for a number of reasons but you’re the strongest person I know. You’ll be just fine, even if you don’t feel like you will be. I’ll be here for you whenever you need me. I mean it.

- Heeseung

For the first time in a while, you allow yourself to cry over Lee Heeseung and surprise yourself when you realize that you want him back. 

***

At the airport, your mom helps you check in your luggage and asks if you’ve got everything you need and makes you double check everything. It’s reminiscent of the way you did with Riki before the camping trip. You’re happy despite feeling a bit annoyed that she’s making you take off your backpack. You don’t totally mind it, though. She gives you a hug that feels like it could last a lifetime and letting her go is the hardest thing you’ve ever done. 

Everybody else gives you love, too. Sunoo is the first to hug you and makes you promise to bring him back some skincare and souvenirs the next time you’re able to get back to Korea. Jake embraces you next and gives you some words of encouragement while Jay does his best to pretend like he isn’t sad by complaining about how there will be one less cook in the kitchen. You throw your arms around him anyway and pretend not to hear him sniffle. Sunghoon traps you in a bear hug and makes you promise to take as many photos as possible and says he’ll look forward to seeing them. He, too, pretends like he’s not about to cry. You push your head onto his shoulder and give his hand a squeeze before he lets a few teardrops fall. 

Jungwon is the most emotional of them all. He wipes away his free falling tears and crushes you in a hug, burying his head in your neck. “You better come back, asshole. I can’t believe you’re gonna leave me to chase your dreams. That’s so selfish of you.” You think you might cry too but laugh anyway. 

“I love you so much, Wonnie.” He squeezes you like he’s afraid he’ll forget what it feels like to be in your embrace until Jake pries him off of your body. 

Riki stands awkwardly with his eyes to the floor and his hands in front of him. The taller boy feels as though his shoes are glued down but you see the way his gaze flickers as if he’s trying to figure out what to do next. It doesn’t take much out of you to throw your arms around him and push yourself into his chest. 

“I’m going to miss you a lot, Riki,” you tell him.

“Really?” You nod. 

“I know I haven’t been the best towards you but you need to know that I’m so proud of you, okay? I loved getting to know you. I loved that you came on the trip and I’m so fucking happy that you’re my brother. Out of everybody who could’ve popped into my life, I’m so glad it was you.” 

Everybody watches Riki melt in front of them as he envelopes you right into him. You feel the weight of his shoulders relax and for the first time, you feel like you’re starting to wonder if this is what it feels like to have everything figured out. 

“I’ll come visit you,” he promises. “I’ll come home for winter break.”

“Stay with me. We can do all of the corny shit siblings do. I’ll even pay for everything.” 

Riki laughs but doesn’t let you go. “You’re the best, you know that? Even though it took you some time, I always thought of you like my sister. I’m really happy to be around you.” 

The waterworks begin and Riki does his best to comfort you when he feels tears on his shirt. He feels somewhere in between empty and fulfilled knowing the two of you have made amends, but knowing you want to work towards the future is enough to make him confident that everything will be alright. He lets you go when he feels your arms loosen around him and aggressively wipes his own tears away. 

When you look at Heeseung, the last thing he expects you to do is acknowledge him. He came to the airport because he wants you to know he meant everything in the letter he wrote. He stayed up all night to check for your texts but you hadn’t said anything, and while he knew it was an emotional day for you because of all you were dealing with, a selfish part of him wanted to know what you thought about it. 

You surprise Heeseung and yourself by engulfing him in a hug. The familiarity of his embrace makes you feel nostalgic and you can’t help but cry right into his chest. Heeseung doesn’t hesitate and brings his arms to wrap around your fragile body as you silently weep against him. He holds you tight and gently rocks your body like he used to all those years ago. You don’t fight back either. Instead, you push your head deeper into him and hold him until your tears have stopped. 

“I read your letter,” you say quietly. “We have a lot to talk about but I appreciate everything you said, Heeseung. I tried to hate you but I could never bring myself to feel that way about you.”

“I’m really going to miss you. Can I be selfish?” Heeseung asks with a sob in his throat. “I wish I apologized sooner and I wish we had more time. But please, promise me that you’re going to try to have fun in Japan, okay? You’re the best person I know, even if I didn’t make you feel like it. I’ll always live with that regret but knowing you’ll forget about me and make a life for yourself is enough.”

“I could never truly forget about you, Hee.” That nickname you used to call him makes Heeseung’s heart beat faster. “I don’t want you out of my life. All these years I felt like that’s what I wanted but I don’t want that now. Be happy without me too, okay? Forget about me and follow that dream of yours.” 

Heeseung laughs sadly. “I don’t think I could ever forget about you.” You step away from him and wipe your eyes for the umteenth time. 

“Write a song for me, then. And don’t be a stranger, okay?” 

“Okay.” Heeseung swears on it. “I won’t.” 

A beat of silence passes before all seven of your friends push you into the middle of their group hug. It brings another round of tears to your eyes and Jungwon’s the one who lets you cry into him until your mom tells you it’s time to start boarding. Everybody gets one final goodbye before you disappear into the plane. 

You smile at your phone when you settle into your seat. 

lee heeseung: I miss you already 

You miss him too.

***

Okayama is a dream until it isn’t. You settled into your apartment and had one month before you started your job and went to all the places Riki recommended. You started to understand him a little better after moving and both of you find it hilarious that you two ended up living in each others’ hometowns. You can’t choose your siblings but you’d choose Riki in every lifetime. 

You call your mom every so often and update her on life. Your friends keep you in the loop and FaceTime you when they’re out together. It makes you feel like you’re back in Korea and while it isn’t the same, you appreciate the effort anyway. You’ve made friends with your neighbors and a few girls you met when you went out drinking with your cousin the week you moved and it made braving a whole new country feel less daunting. Jungwon calls you everyday and you tease him for being such a clingy friend, but you both know you love it. You inform him about everything from the boring details to juicy work drama, and it feels like you’re sitting in his bedroom wearing face masks and eating junk food. 

Heeseung has been a constant fixture in your life, too. You texted him the moment you landed and he kept the conversation going. You talk about everything, the past especially, and start to feel like things might be okay. Those butterflies that you had for him in high school made an appearance after three months in Japan and part of you wondered if you were a fool for bringing him back into your life after everything. All of your friends back in Korea tell you Heeseung is miserable without you and when they tease him in the big group chat, he doesn’t deny it.

The friends you made seemed divided–one half thought you should leave him in the dark while the other half swooned over his dedication to making things right. You don’t really know what to think or how to feel, but you know you’re happy. Between phone calls and late night texts, you were always left with a smile on your face before bed.

Riki came back to Okayama for winter break and spent two weeks in your apartment. When the two of you weren’t bickering as siblings do, you both stayed up way too late watching anime and watched him dance at his home studio. Riki even got you to attend a few classes (he tried not to laugh at your poor coordination skills but appreciated the effort anyway). You prefer to be in the audience. 

Life seemed great until your dad made an appearance just before Christmas. He knew you were here from a single text message he never responded to before you moved to Okayama. The weight of his silence prepared you to be in Japan without him but his sudden appearance made you feel like everything changed for the worse. Riki went back to his childhood home to see his family and asked you to come with him after your dad had forced him. Your brother knows the intricate dynamic and you don’t blame him for anything. Seeing your dad with his new family after sparse texts since he left felt like a punch in the gut. It soured your holidays and Riki spent the rest of his trip apologizing even though you told him there was no reason for him to be sorry. You dropped him off at the airport and told him you’d see him in the summertime. 

The holidays came and went but the feelings you’ve carried since then haven’t disappeared, which brings you to the present. Heeseung is standing in the doorway of your apartment in Okayama, looking at you with those big, round doe eyes you always loved. 

“Hi,” he says breathlessly. 

“Heeseung…What are you doing here?” He scratches the back of his neck. 

“You’ve been going through a lot, you know? Every time we talked on the phone, you sounded like you were a thousand miles away and it killed me to know I couldn’t do anything to make you feel better after the holidays with your dad. Jungwon and I have been talking about how much of an ass he is and how much we wish we could be here for you and the next thing I knew, he was encouraging me to buy the next flight out to see you,” Heeseung says in a single breath. “But honestly? I just really, really fucking missed you.”

“You flew all this way here? For me?”

“Yeah.” Heeseung says it like it’s a no-brainer. “Although, now I feel kinda stupid. I realize I’m putting you in a tough spot. But you know what? I think it’s worth it to know that you’re okay.” 

He looks at you but you don’t say anything. Heeseung can see the gears turning inside of your head while you process his arrival. You look so cute in your sleep shorts and oversized shirt. He loves it when you call him via FaceTime because he gets to see all parts of you–getting ready for work and winding down as you are now. It makes him feel like you’re pulling him right back into you. 

You don’t really need to say anything. You lurch yourself onto him and press your lips against his like it’s something you’ve been waiting to do for the longest time. You probably have. Heeseung wraps his arms around you and lets his mouth melt against yours and doesn’t complain about your boldness either. He welcomes it, even. 

“You’re so stupid,” you mutter against him, pulling him into your apartment and locking the door behind you. You kiss him repeatedly and he puts his hands on your waist as if to let you know he’s right there with you. 

“Why am I stupid, baby?” Heeseung’s voice paired with that nickname makes your knees buckle.  

“You can stay with me.” He feels you smile against your lips. “Please just…stay here and don’t go.” 

“I’m not going anywhere.” 

Heeseung drops his backpack onto the floor and lets you capture his mouth again. You taste so fresh with your cherry lip balm. He moans right into your mouth when you push him against your countertop and the feeling of his hands on your body makes you grow hotter as the seconds pass by. The ache between your legs starts to overwhelm you as his plump lips kiss you over and over again before he pushes them against your neck. It’s too much in all of the right ways and you’re too aroused to even think straight. You start to pull yourself away from Heeseung and he’s about to ask if he’s going too fast when you grab your hand and lead him to your bedroom. 

“Y/N, wait,” Heeseung tries to say in between kisses. He loves the feeling of your warm mouth against him and feels himself starting to get worked up but he doesn’t know if you’re thinking straight. Even though the two of you have talked nearly everyday, Heeseung doesn’t know if this is moving too fast. 

“I’m done waiting.” You pull away from him and reach for his hand, pushing his lengthy fingers past your shorts and underwear until he feels the wet slick starting to pool at your folds. Your hand moves his back and forth as he looks at you like you’ve stunned him with a laser gun. Heeseung’s dick jumps in his pants and it takes him a second to move his fingers on his own accord. “I want you, Heeseung. Don’t you want me too?”

His resolve crumbles. Heeseung nods with his mouth parted as he pushes his fingers inside you, your wetness allowing him to reach your depths immediately. You push yourself on your toes and put your hands on his chest, clinging onto him like you’re afraid he’d let you go if you don’t. He thrusts his fingers with intention and hears your quiet whimpers when he leans his head down next to your mouth.

“Yeah,” Heeseung says, lips touching the shell of your ear as his voice ripples through your body. “I want you.”

He pulls his hand away from you and smiles at the short whine from the loss of his touch. Heeseung loves how much you need him and he’s sure you can see how much he needs you too. A surge of confidence jolts within you as Heeseung looks down at your body like he’s ready to eat you alive. You peel off your shirt and shorts, leaving you in your underwear as Heeseung pulls his shirt over his head with a single hand. 

“Lie down,” Heeseung beckons. You do as he says and he sinks down to his knees and pries your legs apart, looking directly at you as he speaks. “Good girl.” He pulls your garments down your legs and the cool air hits your center as Heeseung looks down at you. 

You don’t have time to think about anything when he peppers soft kisses on your skin. His lips journey from the inside of your knee and he presses one small kiss to your slit before repeating the process on your other leg. Heeseung allows himself to get lost in the way your body reacts to his feather-like touches before descending down onto your folds. 

Heeseung’s tongue feels like the closest thing to magic. He takes his time when licking you with his warm and wet muscle, canvassing every ridge with expert movements. You rake your fingers through his hair and tug gently at his soft roots, pulling a moan out of him that delivers a delicious shock up your spine. He puts your feet on his shoulders and plunges his tongue inside of you and grips your flesh with his fingertips until you’re coming undone on his mouth. 

“So fucking good,” he mutters to himself more than he does to you. He laps up your release and you find yourself a bit embarrassed that you were able to come so quickly, but the way he touches you makes it seem as though he already knew how to push your buttons. “You’re so sweet, Y/N. I could eat you all day if you’d let me.” 

Heeseung trails his lips up your stomach and kisses you so tenderly that you feel as though your body must be made out of soft cotton. His lips find your left nipple and lets his tongue swirl over the bud before sucking on it with a gentle motion. He repeats the process on the other nub and flicks it, enjoying the soft sounds that come from you. Heeseung buries himself right into your neck but he doesn’t kiss the skin like you think he will. Instead, he kisses you twice on your open neck before moving his body so that he can look down at you. 

He bites his lip. It makes you feel exposed but somehow, it makes you feel all that more confident. It’s like Heeseung is looking right through you with all of your worries and faults laid out for him to reject. But he doesn’t. Likewise, Heeseung allows you to see him in his vulnerability and he’s ready to pack up his things and leave if you tell him you don’t want this anymore. But you don’t. 

He descends on you once again, this time his lips pushing against you in a slow and sensual kiss. You feel the way he moves against you and savor the sounds your mouths make together. Heeseung brings his hand to brush strands of your hair away from your face as he kisses you and the gentle touch of his fingertips feels like it was always meant to be there. 

“I need you.” Your back arches right into his chest as you speak. “Don’t make me wait, Heeseung. Please, I just…I need you.” 

“I’ll never make you wait. Never again,” he promises. Heeseung manages to rid himself of his pants and boxers and pushes himself between your legs until his dick is situated between your folds. Your arousal, paired with the precum oozing from his slit, provides the perfect balance of wetness that coats the entirety of his cock as he glides himself against you. 

When his tip catches your hole, the sounds of your moans overpowers his refrain. He pushes inside of you slowly inch by inch, savoring the way you feel for the fear that he might never be able to do this again. You look so beautiful underneath him with his dick completely sheathed inside of you and when your legs wrap around his body to encourage him to move, Heeseung doesn’t deny you of your pleasure. 

Neither of you have ever had sex like this–the feeling of pure rawness echoes throughout the room between your breathy moans and the sound of skin pushing against one another. Your body is warm in the way he always imagined and his hands touch every inch of you as if to commit your silhouette to memory. In this moment, Heeseung feels as though the two of you are kindred spirits who found each other.

“You’re so good for me,” Heeseung whispers into your neck as he thrusts into you. “So fucking tight and wet.” He feels your arms wrap around his shoulders to keep him trapped between you but he can’t say he minds all that much. 

“I-I’m so close,” you say in a broken moan. 

“Already, baby?” Heeseung says to tease you as he brings his head up to look down at you again. He pushes his hips against you faster and that surprised gasp you let out makes his balls clench. 

“S-Shut up.” 

Your arms fall to the mattress as you claw at your sheets. Heeseung plans his elbows on either side of your head as he focuses all of his willpower towards fucking you with fast deep strokes, loving the way your mouth parts slightly and how your eyes are closed shut. His muscles flex as he pushes himself until you’re coming with a loud moan, and finds himself releasing inside of you the moment he feels you gushing around him. 

You feel Heeseung press his tender lips against your forehead as you come down from your high while he continues to rock you through your release. Your cheeks are hot from the pleasure and the room is suddenly too warm with Heeseung on top of you. When you open your eyes, he’s looking at you like he’s seen a halo above your head. He can’t really help it. Heeseung leans down to press a soft, gentle kiss against your lips to convey a job well down. 

“I came so fast,” you whisper bashfully. You bite your lip but Heeseung tugs it away from your teeth to kiss you again. 

“Me too.” Heeseung kisses your nose and relishes in the way you scrunch your face. “But it’s okay. You deserve to feel good. I don’t care how long or short it takes.” He places his hand on your face and rubs the apple of your cheek with his thumb. 

“I really missed you.” 

“I missed you too, dummy,” Heeseung says before flicking your nose. He holds your jaw in place before kissing you again. 

“We’re gonna have to do a lot of making up, you know,” you mumble against his lips with a smile. 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Mhm.” You push against his lips. Heeseung pushes his half-hard dick inside of you as your back arches right into him. He’s there to catch you this time, his arm supporting your spine underneath you. “Fuck!” 

“My baby,” he whispers into you. “Let me make it up to you.” 

You let him.

***

EPILOGUE: THE FOLLOWING SPRING

“For fuck’s sake, get your big ass head out of the way.”

Jay smacks Jake’s shoulder. “You can see just fine, stupid.” Sunghoon hits both of their shoulders. 

“Both of you, stop moving so much. You guys almost knocked my camera.” They mumble a quick apology before finding another thing to discuss. 

“I feel like I’m surrounded by children.” You sigh as Heeseung wraps his arms around your waist and lets his chin sit atop the crown of your head. He feels your body relax against him and smiles. 

“Well you are, technically. Riki just stopped wearing diapers.” 

“I hate you so much, Heeseung,” the younger boy whines without any true malice. You laugh and squeeze Riki’s hand. He can’t find it in himself to be too mad at either of you. 

“Do you guys see Jungwon and Sunoo?” Sunghoon asks with his camera at the ready. “I want to make sure I take as many pictures as possible.” 

“I don’t think they’re coming out yet,” says Jay. 

“Duh.” Jake provokes him in a way you missed while you were in Okayama. It brings warmth to your heart when you see them bicker. 

Jay turns to you. “Y/N, have you given a second thought about moving in with Jake when you come back? I think you’d be better off if you kicked him to the streets.”

“Hey!” Jake tackles Jay until he’s got his older friend’s neck between his arms. None of you pay too much attention and choose to wait for Jungwon and Sunoo. 

“Our friends are another breed,” Heeseung mumbles against you as he kisses your cheek. “Are you sure you want to move back and be roommates with Jake and Jungwon?” 

“Mhm. I miss you guys so much.” 

“But you miss me the most, right?” 

“Yes, baby.” You bring his hand up to your lips and kiss the back of it. “I missed you the most.” 

“There they are!” Riki shouts. 

Jungwon and Sunoo, clad in their caps and gowns, saunter their way out of the stadium before spotting your group. They make a run for it and push past the onlookers who search for their loved ones as well. Sunoo clings onto Jake while Jungwon finds his perch in Riki’s arms as Sunghoon captures the beautiful moment on his digital camera. 

“We fucking did it!” Jungwon shouts as he pulls away. “Sunoo, we did it!” 

“About damn time,” Sunoo replies as he rolls his eyes with a smile. “I felt like I’d be there forever.” 

“We’re so proud of you both.” Jay smiles and moves to hug each of them. “You guys are amazing, seriously.” 

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me.” Riki bumps hips with Sunoo. “That seems unfair.” 

“Life is unfair.” There’s no real bite to his tone, just a bittersweet future. Sunoo hugs the taller boy. 

“Oh my God,” Jungwon says with his hand pressed to his mouth. “Y/N is crying.” 

“No I’m not,” you say, even though you definitely are. Heeseung squeezes you tighter against him. “Shut up, Jungwon. I’m not crying.” 

“You so are!” Riki shouts. 

“I’m not crying. Seeing my best friends graduate college is not a good reason to cry, okay?!” 

Jungwon and Sunoo sport shit-eating grins. Heeseung lets you go as they engulf you in a hug while the younger of the two feels your hot tears on his cheek. He laughs and this moment starts to feel a bit nostalgic to him, as he acted the same way you did upon seeing you in your cap and gown. 

“Hey,” he says in a softer tone, pulling away from the two of you. “Thanks for being here. I know taking time off was a little hard but we’re so happy you could come.”

“Yeah,” Sunoo agrees. “Talking to you over the phone isn’t enough. We missed you, you know?” 

You tear up again and wipe your nose before falling into them again. “I missed you too.”

“Oh God,” Sunghoon laughs. “If Y/N’s crying then I know we’re in for it.” 

“Hey!” Heeseung jokes, nudging his friend with his shoulder. “Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that.” Although, he can’t really disagree with Sunghoon. 

“You’re all so stupid for making me cry in public,” you say as you wipe your tears from your eyes. “I’m gonna look back at these pictures and my eyes will be all red and puffy.” 

“I feel like you and Heeseung might as well be our parents,” Sunoo says as Heeseung pulls him into a hug.

“Wait, you guys should totally take a family photo.” Jake steps forward to arrange the four of you like a family portrait with Jungwon and Sunoo between you and Heeseung. “There. Sunghoon, take a picture. This is so going on the fridge when we move in together.” 

Heeseung moves back next to you as the rest of your friends look at the photos on Sunghoon’s camera and take turns taking pictures of him with the graduates. He kisses your cheek and pulls you back into him. 

“You ready to come back to all this chaos?”

“More than ready,” you affirm. “I loved Okayama, even though I had to deal with my dad and all of that stuff. But I missed my life here and the masters program over in Seoul is a good fit for me, you know? Plus, your apartment isn’t too far from mine.” 

“I can’t wait for you to move back.” Heeseung kisses your cheek again. “Your mom and I talked logistics about helping you move into the new apartment. Knowing you, I’m sure you’ll have another suitcase coming back with you.” 

“Shut up.” 

“You know I’m right.” 

You blush and mumble. “Yeah…You’re right.” 

“Your mom and Jungwon’s parents talked about renting a bigger camp space this year, too. I think they’re planning on having one huge trip this year now that most of us have graduated.” 

“I can’t believe our last trip was almost a year ago. That’s insane because it feels like I moved to Japan just yesterday.” 

“I solemnly swear I will never be as stupid or dense as I was back then.” When you turn around to look at Heeseung, you know he’s telling the truth. You don’t answer him verbally and choose to silence him with a pretty kiss. It’s enough for the two of you. 

“Oi, love birds,” Jake calls, looking at you. “We should find their parents. Your mom called me and I think she was crying.” 

You frown. “Why didn’t she call me?”  

“She said you were probably crying too,” Jake snickers. 

“Is it too late to back out of being roommates?” 

“Nope. You’re stuck with me.” 

Heeseung squeezes your hand. 

“And me.” 

As you look around, you can’t help but feel as though this was always how it was meant to be.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

***

comments and reblogs are appreciated! xx

[kamaluhkhan]

ONCE BITTEN, TWICE SHY

pairing: vi x fem!reader word count: 10.5k summary: after years away, vi returns home for the holidays and reunites with you, her ex-girlfriend. the universe (*cough cough* and your meddling families) push you together again, and neither of you can ignore the feelings that linger. (or: you, vi, and the ghosts of christmas past, present and future.) warnings: reader is ekko's older sister but not necessarily biological so appearance isn't specified; childhood friends to lovers + second chance romance; reader gets hit on by a creepy guy + gets into a fight (injury + blood mention), smut [strap mention (reader receiving), oral (both receiving), fingering (both receiving), biting, spitting, tribbing, sub!vi makes an appearance...kinda rough + possessive sex but there's aftercare too <33] (18+) ! a/n: HAPPY NEW YEAR GIRLS AND GAYS <33 tbh i debated whether to post this now bc xmas was like....3 weeks ago but figured i might as well. so pls enjoy what is essentially an x-rated sapphic hallmark holiday movie.

♪: ‘tis the damn season by taylor swift (sun); winterbreak by MUNA (moon); last christmas by wham! (rising)

track 1: thank god it’s christmas by queen

(winter — age 17)

“okay, just relax your fingers — no, but keep some tension, apply a bit of pressure on the string….yep, that’s better. now, straighten your back….”

it’s dark and snowing outside, and the cold’s seeping in through the window of her attic bedroom, but vi still almost melts into the floor when you follow her advice and press against her chest. she worries that you can feel how fast her heart is beating — faster than it maybe should for someone she’d been calling friend ever since she could remember. 

you shift in her lap, her arms still wrapped around yours from when she offered to guide you through an instrumental version of wham’s “last christmas.” you tilt your head towards her, nose almost brushing against hers. 

“vi?”

“....yes?”

“maybe we should finish our lesson another time. we better hurry up, anyways. i bet ekko and powder are already arguing over whether we should watch home alone or home alone two.”

vi snorts. it’s practically a tradition at this point, along with the annual post-christmas-dinner pyjama movie night.

you try to hand her the bright pink guitar pick, but vi shakes her head.

“it’s yours. you’re gonna need it if you want more lessons.” 

“hm, or maybe i could sell it for a billion dollars once you’re a big rockstar,” you tease. “i can picture thousands of fangirls painting your portrait and writing mrs. violet lanes in their notebooks.” 

you get up, shoot her a wink, and leave vi on the bed, clutching her guitar and trying to get her pulse under control. 

neither of you say anything as you both get changed. the stereo plays the mixtape you’d made for her — you got her for secret santa this year.

“my mom loved this song,” vi hums, a warm ache growing in her chest when the next song plays. this is the second christmas without her, but vi is still not used to using past tense. “she thought freddie mercury was the best rockstar of all time.”

“i remember. you…you must miss her.” 

of course she does, and she could run through a million reasons why.

“vander says you’ll be spending new year’s at your dad’s,” is what she says instead.

you let out something between a scoff and a laugh. “yeah.”

“your mom going, too?”

“just me and ekko. i swear, it’s like he’s trying to be this perfect dad to his new stepkids, meanwhile he’s the one who left us here to deal with his mess, the one who just ran away, and….whatever.” this time, you do scoff. “hey – do you have a shirt i could borrow?”

vi looks over to find that you’ve switched from the velvet dress you wore during dinner into a pair of flannel plaid pants; her cheeks flush when she sees that you’re only wearing a black lacy bralette on top. 

she clears her throat and pulls a clean jersey from her dresser, tosses it over to you. 

“that’s a shame. i was looking forward to spending new year’s eve together.”

you hum and slip the shirt over your shoulders. the only sources of light are the moon and the stars and the multicoloured christmas lights strung along vi’s walls, but she swore that your eyes flick down to her lips. 

“why’s that?” you ask. 

there’s something absolutely dizzying about being this close to you, the way your sparkly eyes wait patiently for her to respond. joni mitchell sings about skating away on a river, and vi wishes she could skate away from this conversation, but there’s nowhere to go. 

vi blinks away from your gaze and fixates on one of the many things she’s pinned up on her bedroom walls throughout the years. it’s a page torn from an old notebook of yours, something from seventh grade math class, but vi always loved your little drawings in the margins. 

vi?” you prompt, never one to let go easily.

“i want to kiss you at midnight,” she confesses.

“yeah?” 

vi nods. she’s tempted to walk out of her room, down the stairs and out into the winter night, until you weave your fingers through hers and squeeze her hand. she looks up — and you’re beaming, a smile that brightens vi’s entire being. 

“i want that too.”

vi finally, finally crashes her mouth onto yours, lips sticky with marshmallow fluff.

you taste like vanilla and gingerbread and hot chocolate that is definitely not spiked with irish cream that vi slipped into your mugs while you distracted the adults. 

you taste like home.

….

so, slight change of plans….i’m gonna stay here in london with the rest of the band. apparently the kirammans throw a super fancy holiday party with super fancy people every year, and cait convinced her parents to let us perform. fingers crossed someone important discovers us.

merry christmas, baby. and, if i don’t get the chance to say it: happy new year.

….

track 2: winter wonderland by darlene love

(winter — age 12)

you’re supposed to be looking after ekko while your parents are at work, but all that really means is making a big bowl of kraft dinner and stove-top s’mores for lunch and watching old christmas specials on the worn-out living room couch while you draw in your sketchbook and your brother, only 7 years old, programs the doorbell to play ‘jingle bells.’ 

when someone rings the doorbell, the tune floats through the house and wakes up your dog who starts barking like it’s the end of the world. 

“easy, ziggy.” you click a marker closed and run a hand through the husky’s fur, attempting to calm him down. “let’s go see who it is.”

you open the door, and there’s vi: snowflakes sparkling on her eyelashes, pink hair hidden under a knitted hat, and a toothy grin that brings out the dimple in her flushed cheeks. she’s also got a split lip and crooked nose from her last hockey game.

“we’re building a fort,” she tells you. she shuffles to the side so that you can see powder, who’s making a snow angel. “well, we’re going to. wanna join?”

you nod, smiling. “ekko!” 

your brother’s already behind you, slipping on his chunky boots and oversized coat that used to be yours before running outside and collapsing onto the fluffy snow next to powder. ziggy bolts outside, too, running circles around them. 

you stumble to get your winter gear on as fast as possible, the cold air rushing inside your front hallway as vi waits for you, kicking her snowy boot against the concrete entryway step. not even a heartbeat after shutting the door behind you, vi takes your gloved hand in hers and pulls you forward, the two of you a flurry of laughter.

…..

hey, pretty girl. i was at this party and one of your songs came on! every time i hear it, i’m in awe of how amazing it is….how amazing you are. i’m basically walking home in a snowstorm, so i’m gonna go before my fingers freeze off, but i just wanted to say that i’m so proud of my rockstar girlfriend.

i was also wondering: are you coming home any time soon? the holidays are coming up, and i really miss you. we all do.  

…..

track 3: last christmas by wham!

(winter — now)

vi should have learned from sonic youth and fleetwood mac: 

no sex or romance between bandmates. it never ends well.

it was bad enough giving into the rumors and fooling around with cait, but it’s another layer of messiness now that cait and maddie dating. meanwhile, cait is very much still bitter towards vi, vi is very much pining after someone whom she’s pretty sure never wants to see her again, and steb and lorris are very much caught in the middle. it’s no wonder the band’s manager suggested everyone take some time apart to ease the tension. frankly, while others protested, vi was almost relieved at the suggestion.

so cait’s off to london, maddie’s off to glasgow, the boys are going god knows where, and vi —

vi’s heading back home, back to you.

she wakes up in the bed of her childhood for the first time in a long time. her dad put on fresh sheets, but they’re still the same ones from back then — worn flannel with cartoon penguins. it takes a lot of willpower to untangle herself from the warmth and cloud-like softness, but eventually she heads downstairs to the kitchen.

powder still has exams so she’s not home from college until tomorrow, and vander’s gone to work. it’s just vi in her too-small christmas pyjamas (she has yet to unpack), eating a box of stale cinnamon pop-tarts for breakfast even though it’s well past noon. curiosity gets the best of her, so she peers through the window to see if anyone is next door.

your mom’s car is in the driveway, completely snowed in. there had only been a dusting of snow while vi was devouring the first pastry, but four pop-tarts in and it’s about doubled. she waits until the snow stops falling; with nothing better to do and a sugar rush to burn off, vi pulls on her old winter coat and snow boots she hasn’t worn since she was 18, grabs a shovel from the garage, and gets to work. 

it doesn’t take her long to clear the driveway, and she has some adrenaline to spare, so she decides to be a good neighbor. 

vi’s heaving one last shovelful of snow over her shoulder when she hears:

“violet? is that you?” 

she turns around. and, okay the first thing she registers is ziggy running towards her, the husky toppling her over into the snow.

“i missed you too, zig,” vi laughs. 

she gets up as ziggy’s still bounding around in the snow, and sees your mom standing in the doorway, looking a little more tired and a little more gray. but the smile on her face when she sees that it is, in fact, vi — it’s so bright that the snow might not exactly melt away, but the years sure do. 

vi remembers making snow angels with you while your moms gossiped over tea, how the two of you would stomp inside with a mess of slush and snow while laughter echoed from the living room. vi remembers your mom keeping a comforting arm around her shoulder through her mom’s funeral while you held her hand. she remembers your mom helping her pick out the perfect corsage to match your suit at prom, making a joke about how next time it might be an engagement ring, and telling vi how proud her mother would have been of her at your high school graduation party. 

with the golden glow of nostalgia comes a crashing wave of guilt at what vi said to you last time you spoke. 

“come inside, sweetheart. i’ll make you some hot cocoa as a thank you.”

vi is tempted to reject the offer, but your mom looks so hopeful and vi’s fingers are about to freeze off, anyways. 

so your mom makes hot cocoa as vi defrosts, the two of them chatting in the familiar yellow kitchen that you and vi once almost burnt down while trying to bake a cake for powder’s birthday. even the magnets and paper memories decorating the fridge are the same, with the addition of an article about vi’s band that was featured in the rolling stone, pinned up by a ceramic cow. 

“she’s an art teacher now,” your mom tells vi after giving an update on ekko. she glances at the oven clock. “speaking of which — i know you just finished shoveling our driveway, but do you mind helping me with another favor?”

“after the world’s best hot chocolate? anything.”

“i told my daughter that i’d pick her up from work, and i’m wondering if you would be able to take care of that.” your mom smiles. “i’m sensing a bad migraine coming on.”

the last sip of hot chocolate trickles down vi’s throat like cement. she knew she’d be seeing you, but didn’t quite plan for how that….reunion might go.

“of course,” vi says. 

vi puts both of their mugs in the dishwasher, about to grab the car keys from the hook by the door when your mom calls out: 

“oh, and violet?” vi turns around. “i’m so glad you’re home.”

you’re talking to a student when vi enters the art room of your old high school. nothing else in the building had changed — same boring concrete, same scratched up lockers, same graffiti immortalizing whom hooked up with whom. this room is the exception, vibrant with how students’ art is displayed all around, paintings and drawings and collages, and you’ve strung up multicolored christmas lights that give the whole space a cozy ambiance. you look the part of a cool, young art teacher: wearing a simple dark purple turtleneck tucked into black jeans and the same combat boots you’ve had since tenth grade, paint stains on your skin that is exposed by rolled up sleeves, and a marker behind your ear. you’re standing in front of an easel, talking to the student who happens to notice vi before you do.

“holy shit. is that violet lanes?”

vi watches as your face scrunches up in confusion, and then falls into shock when you see her standing there.

“it seems that it is violet lanes,” you state coolly while the student squeals. “what are you doing here?”

“oh, i, uh,” vi clears her throat, her palms sweaty. why is her body reacting like she’s a teenager about to ask out her crush for the first time? “your mom wasn’t feeling great, asked if i could pick you up from work.”

“you guys are friends?” the student asks, eyes wide as they flick between you and vi. 

“we used to date, actually,” vi clarifies. wrong move, she realizes, because you can’t help but glare at her.

“oh my god.” the student squeals again and reaches in their pocket to whip out their phone. “i need to tell alyssa that ms. l/n was in a relationship with the violet lanes. are you guys gonna get back together? oh my god, have you come to win her back —”

“layla,” you clip, and by the furrow of layla’s brow, it seems like you’re not usually so stern. you smile at layla, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “you’ve done some great work today, but you’ll have to finish this when we’re back from winter break. do you mind giving ms. lanes and i a minute?”

layla nods once, gathers her things. when she walks past vi, she can’t help but ask for an autograph. vi complies, of course, even lets her take a selfie. a fan is a fan, after all.

and, quite frankly this is the only part of being in the band that she still enjoys: hearing how excited young girls are at the music she writes, the music that vi wished she had growing up, about girls liking girls, about girls falling in and out of love with each other. everything else is just an occupational hazard that vi’s getting more and more fed up with. 

when vi turns her attention back to you, you’re finished putting all the material away, wiping your hands with an already paint-stained towel.

“i meant what you’re doing back in town,” you explain, not quite meeting vi’s eyes. you pack away some books and your laptop into a supple leather briefcase, and slip on your coat. vi’s cheeks flush when you catch her watching you. 

“it…it doesn’t matter. i’m here for a while, though.” 

you sigh. “okay.” and you don’t say anything more. vi keeps up with you as you switch off the lights, lock the door, and stride to the parking lot in silence. when you get to the car, you extend your hand.

“i’m driving,” you say, gesturing at her to give you the keys. “we both know that you’re a terrible driver.”

“i’m not a terrible driver,” vi guffaws. 

“says the lesbian who gives the rest of us a bad name,” you quip, a hint of a smile dancing across your lips, like the first bout of sun after a winter storm. “c’mon, pretty girl. i’m not giving up, so unless you wanna freeze to death….” 

the nickname slips effortlessly from your tongue, so much so that you don’t even seem to realize it, but vi’s breath hitches and she’s more than happy to fold to your every whim if it means hearing you call her pretty one more time. 

“so….” vi glances over at you from the passenger seat. a snowy landscape passes outside the window, and you tap on the steering wheel to a generic christmas song that plays through the stereo. “you’re teaching high school now?” 

she wonders if you remember the last fight you had, almost two years ago to the day.

you keep your eyes on the road. “yeah. guess i graduated from finger-painting with kindergarteners.”

vi feels her cheeks heat up all over again. 

so, you do remember. 

she wonders if you’ve replayed it over and over again and hoped for a different ending like she did. she should have thought more about what to actually say to you —

“you know, i never understood why you liked this song so much,” you suddenly say when the radio starts playing dolly parton’s cover of ‘i’ll be home for christmas.’ 

vi can read between the lines, but she’s waiting for you to point out the irony in her preference for a song that’s about someone wanting to go home for christmas, something vi has deliberately avoided at all costs these past few years. 

“it just seems kinda sad,” you continue. 

“you love ‘last christmas,’ and that one’s pretty sad,” vi points out.

“sure, but it ends hopefully.”

“oh?” vi tilts her head towards you. “how’d you figure? 

“sure, it’s someone singing about heartbreak and how much it sucks during christmastime, but then there’s this hope that they still find true love down the line. it’s a maybe that isn’t hopeless.” you shrug. “meanwhile, your song ends with the lyric ‘if only in my dreams,’ which just seems too accepting of the fact that going home for christmas, being with the person they love — it might just be a dream.”

“i don’t know. some dreams do come true,” vi muses. 

by now, you’ve made it home. you put the car in park but keep the engine going, presumably to avoid becoming icicles. neither of you make a move to leave. 

you glance over at vi. “your dreams sure came true, ms. violet lanes,” you joke, but there’s an air of sadness to it.

“not all of them.”

“yeah? which ones haven’t?”

vi swallows the lump in her throat and hopes that you understand the look in her eyes. “let’s just say i’m working on them.”

you blink away and cut the engine.

….

you’re still dealing with the shock of seeing vi back in town when your brother, freshly home from college, suggests going skating. 

he can be fairly convincing, especially when he mentions that it’s a christmas season tradition, so, you prepare for what is essentially a double date with your brother, his girlfriend/your ex-girlfriend’s sister, and your ex-girlfriend, with isha as a fifth wheel.

should be fun. 

it turns out, despite all her past hockey experience, vi really cannot skate. in fact, skating seems to be the complete opposite of riding a bike: she’s terrible at it after years off the ice, essentially reenacting that scene from bambi. it’s easier to ignore vi’s presence when she’s sitting next to the snack bar, by herself, but then powder skates up next to you and asks if you’d be kind enough to please help her sister have a good time. you roll your eyes at her shit-eating grin, but it is a bit sad, watching vi on the sidelines. she’s wearing a beanie and a pair of sunglasses to hide her identity, and now she kinda looks like a divorced dad watching his grown kids pass him by while he’s stuck in a midlife crisis.

you convince vi to give skating another shot — it’s tradition after all — and pull her out onto the rink. you start by holding her from behind, keeping her hips steady until she gets the hang of it. you try to let go, but vi stumbles and reaches out for your gloved hand, and you melt into the familiarity of her fingers curled around yours. the two of you fall into a comfortable rhythm, first with you pulling vi along, then with her taking the lead, until vi almost knocks into a small child.

“see what i mean by you being a bad driver?” you jest, successfully maneuvering to avoid collision. 

then, you follow where vi’s eyes have settled — on powder and isha laughing and chasing each other around the rink. vi had asked earlier when isha had dyed her hair blue; you still have some residue under your nails from last weekend, when powder came for a study break and the three of you ended up helping isha achieve a new look she’d apparently been itching to try. 

“you know powder’s graduating this year?” 

“she overloaded her credits so she could get out of there as soon as possible,” you explain, having had many conversations with powder leading up to the decision. 

vi nods, her jaw clenched. you already know what she’s thinking, and frankly, you agree: that vi hasn’t been here, literally and figuratively. you also feel the warmth of vi’s skin radiating through her glove to yours, notice the slight flush to her freckled cheeks, how chapped her lips are from the cold, so much so that you’re tempted to share the vanilla chapstick you’ve got on your own lips, to kiss her deeply like you did last time you were here, together.

it’s only been three days since vi’s been back home. this is only the second time you’ve seen her, and you’re already falling back into old patterns, tempted to ask her to stay, to try again, even though you already know the answer.

except….not staying isn’t the deal breaker it used to be, so maybe trying again isn’t as hopeless as you think it is.

vi squeezes your hand, and you realize that you’ve stopped skating entirely. 

“hey. you still with me?”

you nod, decide to enjoy this moment for as long as you can, and the two of you glide across the ice.

…..

when you suggest making stove-top s’mores, it’s another item on the list of things she’d missed. 

a list that’s been growing a lot these past few days.

vi offers to make more once you’ve all run out, and ekko follows her into their kitchen while you, powder, and isha keep watching christmas specials in the living room. she turns on the gas stove, stabs a marshmallow through a wooden skewer and waits for it to roast — and, for ekko to say something.

“i don’t know what happened between you and my sister, but i need you to promise me that the tabloids aren’t true. that you and that kiramman chick didn’t hook up…at least until after y’all broke up.” 

“or, what, you’re gonna challenge me to an arm wrestle? think you can finally beat me?”

“oh, i know it.”

a pause. the marshmallow catches on fire and vi blows on it to quell the damage.

“i didn’t cheat on her.” she throws out the burnt marshmallow and gives it another shot. “i would never. does….does she think i did?”

ekko shrugs. “not sure. some of those articles are pretty convincing. but, since you’re promising me that you didn’t…”

“i didn’t.”

“then that saves me from kicking your ass.” ekko nods once and uncrosses his arms, handing vi some graham crackers and chocolate. “actually, i could use your help with something.”

“sure.”

“she applied to this great art residency in new york, like, on whim. the only people she’s told are me, powder, and vander….i think she’s nervous to tell mom, at least until she knows for sure she’s gotten in, but this is the most excited i’ve seen her be about something in a while, and she worked really hard on her application…” 

“i’m sure she did,” vi states. “what do you need my help with?”

“convincing her to go.” 

“i’d love to help, but i’m not sure i’m someone she’d wanna hear from, especially about this. she was never a fan of me leaving to pursue my dreams.”

“she was never a fan of you leaving,” ekko corrects. “she’s still a fan of you pursuing your dreams.” he juts his chin out at the article stuck to the fridge. 

vi had just assumed that your mom had pinned that up.

“okay.” vi says. “i’ll talk to her.” 

a plateful of semi-burnt s’mores later, and vi and ekko return to the living room with the rest of you. 

vi forgot how nice this felt, all of you cuddled on the couch, ziggy included, watching how the grinch stole christmas. she half expects her mom to walk in through the door without even knocking, shake the snow off her hair, and hold up a batch of pre-baked gingerbread people she’d gotten for the kids to decorate.

but that’s not happening. other than isha, none of you are kids anymore and things can never be the same.

and yet — you glance over at vi and give her a sticky marshmallow smile, and she feels her heart grow three sizes.

….

baby, i swear it’s not what it looks like. the record label thought it would be good promo to get a picture of me kissing under the mistletoe…’tis the season and all that…..cait and i were both really drunk and things got a bit out of hand….but it looks worse than it is. i swear on my mother’s grave that nothing happened.

please call me back, baby…..i’m so fucking sorry….please. 

it’s not christmas without at least hearing your voice. 

….

track 4: river by joni mitchell

(winter — age 23)

it’s hard to believe that hours ago, you were kissing vi backstage and showering her with praise after the concert. she was happy to indulge in your excitement, even though she was all sweaty and her ears were still ringing from the crowd. 

more than happy, in fact. phone sex can only go so far, and it’d been too long since vi had seen you writhe and heard you whimper for her firsthand. 

“i missed you so fucking much,” you groan, tightening your grip on vi’s hair. it’s now an inky black instead of fuschia — the band’s starting to lean more punk rock. 

a particularly hard thrust is her way of telling you that she missed you too. so fucking much. she throws your legs over her shoulders, pushing the strap deeper inside you and digging her knees into the mattress as she coaxes you through another orgasm. you pull her down for one last searing kiss, your tongue searching each crevice of her mouth. 

“i can’t believe you’re here,” vi continues a few moments later, after you’re both cleaned up and getting dressed. she wants to add something along the lines of i love you, but she bites back the sentiment. she’ll save that sappy shit for later tonight, when she finally gets down on one knee for you. 

you glance back at her from where you’re pulling out a sparkly silver dress from your side of the closet (and isn’t that such a slip of the mind? your side, as if it’s a shared closet and a shared bedroom and a shared home; if she thought about it more, though, she would realize that, though she has no problem asking you to marry her, she’s still terrified at the thought of staying in one place for more than a few months).

“me neither,” you smile. 

vi walks over to you, presses her half-dressed body against your lingerie-clad form (vi’s sure you wore this fuschia set just to drive her insane; it’s working). she lodges her hand behind your ear and pulls you in closer, kisses you deeply because you’re here and she missed you so fucking much and she’s so ready to make you her wife.

she could write a whole record just about the taste of your lips: the sweetness of vanilla chapstick, the saltiness of sweat and the headiness lingering from the wetness you lapped up from between her legs.

you pull away first. vi tries not to stare at how your chest heaves, your breasts straining against intricate lace. 

“we, um.” you clear your throat. you slip your hand underneath vi’s blazer, and she groans when you make contact with the exposed, burning skin of her abdomen. vi thinks you’re about to suggest another round, or two, or ten, but instead you untangle yourself from her and say: “we should probably get ready.”

the after party is going well. the club’s busy, the music’s good, and the drinks are flowing.

you seem to be having a great time until someone (probably cait or maddie, on cait’s behalf) lets it slip that the band’s heading to london later in the month to start recording their new album before the end of the year….something vi decidedly did not want to tell you until later tonight, after the high of the proposal, after she’s promised you that she’s dedicated to this relationship, that she’s always been dedicated to you. 

instead, vi’s trailing behind you as you angrily stomp towards the bathroom, her mind scrambling to come up with a way out of this argument.

there’s a line, but you cut in front and slip inside as soon as someone walks out. 

“wait, what the fu —”

you slam the door and lock it behind you once you’re both inside, ignoring the subsequent banging and jiggling of the handle.

“please, baby, let me explain —”

“i can’t fucking believe you,” your voice is steady, measured, and for some reason that makes vi even more nervous. “you give empty promise after empty promise that you’ll be more present, but something always gets in the way, is always more important than —”

“don’t you dare say that you’re not important to me. i offer to fly you out anywhere to be with me, but you’ve only taken me up on the offer once. twice, now.”

“it’s been five years, vi. five years of us staying together because….god, at this point i don’t even know why — ”

“do you not understand how much i love you?” vi raises her voice over the sound of the club music outside. “i was gonna propose tonight.”

you stare at her, then start to laugh.

“please tell me you’re joking.”

“i’m not.”

“if you think marriage will save us, then you’re delusional. what was your plan — call me your wife while we’re thousands of miles apart, but not even have the time to answer my calls? we’re barely in a relationship now, vi. all that’s left between us are missed calls and voicemails —” 

“oh that’s really all that’s left between us?” 

“i love you, violet. i have since we were kids. but, now, there’s also all this — the parties, the crowds, the fame….you’ve gone all over the world, and you can’t even be bothered to visit your family during the holidays.”

“well i’m sorry that my ambitions are bigger than that nothing town we grew up in,” vi snaps. “i can’t believe you’re throwing a tantrum because i’m not making it home for christmas. for what? so we can all reminisce by the fireplace, pretend that we can be kids again, even though things can —” vi chokes back a sob, soothes it with a healthy dose of anger. “things can never be the same. you need to grow the fuck up.”

“maybe you should be the one to grow up!” you finally yell. “convincing yourself that this relationship is working, meanwhile you’re running away from everything and everyone you grew up with because it reminds you of your —”

“at least i’m not afraid to actually go after my dreams,” vi cuts you off before you can finish that sentence, uses the broken shards of your words against you. “don’t you want more for your life than finger-painting with a bunch of kindergarteners? you’re gonna end up just like your deadbeat mom, going nowhere, drinking yourself to sleep, all alone, with nothing to show for the life you’ve lived.”

as soon as the words leave her mouth, vi wishes she could take them back. you don’t bother swallowing your tears, letting them rush down your cheeks. vi digs her nails into her palms to prevent herself from reaching out and wiping them. it wouldn’t make sense, anyways. she’s the reason you’re crying. 

you take a deep, shaky breath.

“yeah, well, i’m glad that your mom isn’t alive to see what a selfish asshole you’ve become.” there’s a pause, and vi feels her stomach turn at your casual cruelty, your quiet anger. “i’m gonna pack up my stuff and catch the first flight out of here. merry fucking christmas and happy fucking new year. have a nice life.”

vi screams and throws the velvet box against the door you’ve slammed shut behind you. the hot tears that were building in her throat finally boil over. the engagement ring clatters onto the floor.

…..

vi? it’s me. not sure if you’ve blocked my number. i wouldn’t blame you. i know it’s been, like, a year, but it feels weird not hearing your voice for this long, especially around the holidays. well, i guess i could just turn on the radio….it’s not the same, though. anyways, merry christmas. happy new year, too. and….and i’m sorry. 

please come home.

…..

track 5: i’ll be home for christmas by dolly parton 

(winter — now)

karaoke at the last drop used to be one of vi’s favorite christmas traditions, so you decidedly avoided it at all cost since the breakup. vander always tried to convince you to join, but he understood and even made sure to not give you a shift during that time after you started working there at 21. 

you kept the job because, evidently, high school art teachers don’t make a ton of money, and you would one day like to move out of your mother’s house. 

which, as it turns out, might happen sooner rather than later. you applied for this artist residency in new york, and, yeah, you put time and effort and heart into your application, but you were sure that you’d be rejected. while you got your acceptance email this morning, and you were so fucking overjoyed at first, the thought of leaving still terrifies you, so you’ll postpone worrying about that until after the holidays. that’s what they’re for, anyways: a break from reality, a peek into a cozy snow-covered world where everyone is festive and joyous and worry-free.   

right now though, you’re feeling neither festive nor joyous. gert called in sick, and no one else is able to cover for them, so you’re stuck at the last drop on christmas eve, listening to one of your old high school classmates drunkenly fumble the lyrics of darlene love’s ‘christmas (baby, please come home).’

about three verses in, vi walks into the bar with mylo and claggor, flakes of fluffy snow melting into her grayish pink hair. you’re already pouring their drinks before they reach the counter. mylo and claggor offer their sincere appreciation, chattering away as they leave to snag a booth in the corner. vi stares at her drink before grabbing the beer glass. 

“you remember.” 

“are you surprised?”

vi smiles. “no. it’s just nice. cait keeps insisting i order gin martinis instead. says it’s classier.” 

something sour curdles in your stomach. “yeah, well. i’ve always liked you the way you are.”

that probably ended up sounding like you’re still pining after vi (which you’re….not) rather than the bitter comment you intended it to be. 

vi’s soft blue eyes search yours. 

“i better get back to the boys,” she finally says. “maybe sign up for a song or two.”

you’re busy clearing a table when you hear her voice again. actually — a silence fills the bar, and it’s replaced by the lush rumble of vi singing ‘last christmas.’

you watch her as she performs, eyes locked on yours, and it’s over before you know it. you feel like you should go say something to her, but then there are a bunch of excited fans that she has to attend to, signing autographs, taking photos.

as you swallow your disappointment, the normal chatter of the bar resumes. you’re walking back to the kitchen when you feel someone pinch the back of your thigh, right under your ass. you whip around to find that old classmate who butchered a christmas classic an hour or so before (james, you think his name is, from ninth grade science), with the most arrogant smirk.

“hey, gorgeous. my friends and i were just arguing over who should take you home tonight.” he gestures towards a table of guys who look like equally preppy assholes. “i won the chugging contest.”

“good for you,” you say, balancing a tray of empty glasses. “grope someone in here again, and you’ll be sorry you did.” you turn around to get back to work, but james grabs your wrist and stands up abruptly so you’re chest-to-chest.

“i don’t think you understand what i’m offering, baby.” you gag at the nickname and the stench of beer on his breath. you’re a bartender, you’re used to getting hit on, but creeps like this are the worst.

you rip away from his grasp. 

“i’m not interested,” you snap. “and i’m not your baby.”

“listen.” james puts his hands on your shoulders, and if both of your hands were free, you would promptly push him away. everyone’s having a good time and you don’t wanna cause a scene, so you try to think of ways to get this asshole out of the bar and into the snow without much of a fight. “you know, santa might come down your chimney on christmas eve, but if you’ve been a good girl this year i’ll come down your —” 

“there you are!” powder’s voice is loud over the sound of someone singing another generic christmas carol. she knocks into your side, breathless. “sorry we’re late. had some car trouble.”

“well, hello.” he removes his hands from your shoulders, shifts his predatory gaze from you to powder. 

oh, fuck no.

“powder,” you keep your voice steady even if your heart is racing. “go back to the table. i’ll be there in a sec.”

james reaches out for powder, but you punch him square in the jaw before he can so much as touch her, the tray of glasses crashing on the floor. 

james’ flirtatious smile is long gone, replaced with the kind of anger only egotistical, self-important jerks have when they don’t get what they want and they’ve taken a blow to their ego. 

in fact, he’s angry enough to deliver a punch right back to your face.

you hear a crack upon impact, and pain radiates from your nose. you stumble, but powder manages to catch you before you tumble into the broken glass. she holds you as people start yelling. you think that vander rushes over, too, shouting at james to get the fuck out of his bar and never step foot in it again. 

you lick your lips, tasting blood. your ears are ringing, and everything is all a bit fuzzy. powder tries her best, but you slump your body weight into hers and she almost topples over.

“i’ve got her.” vi’s surprisingly calm voice cuts through the chaos. you feel a strong, familiar arm wrap around your waist to steady you. 

somehow, you find yourself in the bathroom, sitting on the counter as vi stands between your legs. she carefully examines your injury, but you notice how she avoids making eye contact. 

you feel your head spinning all over again. maybe it’s the adrenaline, or the fact that the two of you haven’t been this close in a while.

“remember teaching me how to throw a punch?” the question slips past your lips before you can stop it.

vi looks slightly amused, and she finally meets your gaze. “‘course i do,” she hums. “you tried to convince me to help you start an all-female fight club at school.”

a smile creeps onto your face, despite the pain from your nose.

she remembers. 

somewhere within her, vi holds on to fragments of you.

“thank god the principal vetoed it. would’ve been a disaster,” she continues.

vi wipes the blood off your face, the sleeve of her silk red button-down now stained a darker crimson. “how’s your hand?” she asks. 

you flex your fingers. “it’s been better,” you answer, your knuckles slightly aching. “totally worth it.”

vi smiles sadly. “i guess you’ve been the one protecting my sister while i’ve been away.”

while i’ve been away. 

the reminder feels like a stab to the heart. 

vi’s back home, sure, but only for a limited time. 

her fingers graze your cheek, and the breath hitches in your throat.

“you know, i only wanted to start that fight club as an elaborate plan to spend more time together,” you confess, opting to preserve the delicate bubble of nostalgia you’d stumbled into together. “we were each so busy….i had studio, and you were always away at hockey games. it wasn’t realistic in the end, though.”

“i would’ve stayed if you asked,” she tells you, and you wonder exactly what she might be referring to. 

you swallow the lump in your throat. “it’s what you loved, though.”

“but i - i loved you, more. you had to have known that.”

“yeah, well. i loved you, too,” you explain, and it’s clear that neither of you are talking about a lesbian fight club. “whether it was hockey, or music….as long your heart was in it, it was more worth it to let you go, to not stand in the way of your dreams.” 

“you were my dream.”

you scoff, cheeks heating up, and look away. “you probably say that to all the girls.”

“no.” vi guides your chin towards her. “just the one.”

it’s hard to determine who leans in first, but soon enough your lips are on vi’s— messy, urgent. noses bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. she cradles your face in her hands, and you wrap your legs around her waist to bring her closer. you taste beer on her tongue, and maybe a hint of lime, but it’s overwhelmed by the salty, metallic taste of blood stained on your lips. when you run out of air, you pull away. it’s clearer now: you’re not dizzy from the adrenaline, but dizzy from her. vi’s gaze is heavy on yours as she traces your top lip with her thumb.

“vi,” you whimper, itching to kiss her again. 

“you’re still bleeding.”

vi wipes away the blood with the sleeve of her shirt. before either of you can do or say anything more, there’s a knock on the door. vander, wondering if you’re okay and if maybe you could hurry up and get back to work. 

you can’t sleep that night. before, staying up on christmas eve was an elaborate operation to catch santa. now, it’s overthinking a very hot kiss and all the unresolved tension between you and your ex-girlfriend next door. 

logically, you knew that you missed vi, everything about her and who she is, the way you would laugh and argue and make love. but the rush of feeling her tongue licking into your mouth, her body melding into yours after being apart for so long….

you’re scared that she won’t feel the same, but you’re even more terrified of letting the moment slip through both your fingers without at least trying. 

so, you grab your phone, deciding to finally reach out to her, when by some christmas miracle you get a text from her.

she climbs through your window not long after, wearing plaid boxer shorts and a zaun university sweatshirt you’ve been looking for, for about five years. you didn’t bother to change, either, only wearing an oversized shirt. you sit cross-legged on your bed as she waits by the window. vi stares at your chest for a good few seconds, and you remember that you’re wearing one of her band’s concert tees, faded from years of wear. 

“so, um,” vi starts, her voice as soft as the well-worn cotton of your shirt. “we have so much shit to talk about and figure out, but, i, uh, can’t stop thinking about early tonight —”

“vi.” the swarm of butterflies in your stomach is replaced by something more delicate, more urgent. “do you wanna come sit?”

vi swallows thickly, looking between you and the still open window. a winter breeze rushes through. you shiver, thinking she might just turn around and disappear into the cold night. instead, she shuts the window, removes her snow-covered boots, and settles onto the bed next to you.

you place a tentative hand on her cheek, still cold and slightly flushed. she shudders when you run your thumb over the tattoo under her eye.

“i know there’s a lot we have to work through.” you take a deep breath as she shifts closer, suddenly dizzy from the familiar scent of her winter pine old-spice body wash. “right now….right now, i just want you.”

“yeah?” vi smirks, her shyness melting away. she settles a warm hand on your bare thigh. “how do you want me?”

you exhale sharply when her hand travels higher, dull nails scraping at the fabric of your underwear. 

“it’s cute that you’re flustered,” she quips, leaning in even closer. her breath is warm and heavy against your lips. “because i’ve spent so many night replaying all the dirty, nasty things we used to —”

you tug her sweatshirt and pull her back onto the bed, feeling her body solid against yours. the vibration of her groan shudders through your body when you crash your lips onto hers with such hunger, you’d think you had been starving without her. 

“how’s about an encore, superstar?” you drawl. 

you bite your lip hard at how vi nods at you desperately, eyes all dark and lustful.

“you read my mind,” she breathes. by now, her hand has reached the hem of your shirt, and she pushes up the cotton to reveal the supple skin of your stomach. you give her permission to remove it, leaving your top half exposed.

her lips nip and suck down your body until she reaches the waistband of your panties. she pulls it up with her teeth, the elastic snapping back when she lets go. you whine her name, and she looks up at you with dark eyes. 

“can i?” her breath fans over your navel, her nails digging into your hips as she waits for your answer.  

“yes. please.”

you hadn’t meant to sound so desperate, but you could feel vi smirk against your inner thigh before sinking her teeth into it. you whimper, and vi salves her tongue over the area to ease the sting before removing your underwear. she positions your legs over her shoulders for better access to where you need her most.

vi moves her tongue and fingers in all the ways she remembers makes you shake, curl your toes, and grind down on her face. in return, you grip her pink hair, tightly, and utter praise in all the ways you remember makes her shake. 

“just like that, pretty girl,” you encourage, practically melting into the mattress. it feels so good — dangerously good, intoxicating, even — to be devoured by vi.  “keep doing a good job and i’ll return the favor later.”

vi’s moan vibrates throughout your body and she becomes faster, reaches her tongue deeper, bringing you over the edge. she leaves a few more bites on your body on her way up to meet you and when she does, vi’s lips and chin are shining with your release.

you lean forward slightly to lick it up. you ghost your mouth over hers.

“your turn,” you taunt and run your thumb over her tattooed cheek. 

you twist your calf around vi’s leg and flip your positions. she lets out a yelp when her back hits the mattress. once you’re hovering over her, legs and arms on either side of her body, you do what you’re sure you’d never get tired of doing: you kiss her, passionately, deeply. you bite her lip as you pull away. 

there was always a bit of jealousy that gnawed at you, became your very-own shoulder devil that you just couldn’t shake when you were together, no matter how hard you tried. it was no secret that vi was admired by many, that girls around the world were crushing on her, hoping they’d catch her eye, get their chance with her. you never felt like she was yours, and yours alone. 

but you do get a deep satisfaction knowing that right here, right now, you’re the only person who gets to see her like this — pink hair splayed across the pillows like her very own halo, but the rest of her telling a much less-angelic, much more sinister story: her lips swollen and kiss-bitten, her cheeks a devilish shade of red, her eyes dark and lustful and waiting for you to make the next move. 

"you want me to have my way with you?" you whisper, voice honeyed with desire.

vi whimpers, a sound that fuels the fire in your abdomen. "yes."

you practically rip off her sweatshirt, kiss down her jaw, her neck, her exposed chest and sternum down to her stomach. vi lifts her hips from the bed so that you can remove her boxers, and you’re delighted to find nothing else underneath. 

you’re greeted by her glistening pussy. blowing onto her folds, you run your tongue from her hole to her clit, loving how you already feel her slick coating your lips. vi spread her legs even wider, and you take the opportunity to sink two fingers into her cunt. you know her body, as well as you know your own, as well as she knows yours. you flick your gaze up, view slightly blocked by the pink curls of her bush, but you can still picture it — how her eyes roll back, how her mouth opens to release a perfectly delicious gasp.

"god, i've barely touched you and you're already about to cum. did you miss me that much?" you tease, feeling her clench around your fingers. as if you aren’t subtly rutting your hips against the mattress, eager to ease the throbbing between your legs. 

all you get in response is whine. it’s muffled, and you crane your neck upward to see her biting down on her knuckles, so hard you’re worried she might break skin. 

unacceptable.

the rest of the world gets to hear her every day, any time they please. you want to be serenaded by the lyrics of her want, the notes of her desire. all for you and you alone.

with your other hand, you reach up to pinch one of her pierced nipples, always so sensitive. "answer me, violet."

vi props herself up on her elbows to look at you, just as you remove your mouth from her.

"yes!" she sings, practically sobbing. you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel the throbbing between your thighs intensify, hearing the frantic lilt of her voice — like she needs you and only you. "i missed you so fucking much. please, just do something."

at her request, you move up the bed so that the two of you are face to face, one of your hands holding her chin while the other is two fingers deep in her cunt. you add another, just to reveal in the timber of her sultry moan. she tries to bring her hand back, to quiet herself, but you shake your head. 

with your thumb, you trace over her lips, uneven and scarred and imperfectly beautiful. "open." 

vi obeys you instantly. you spit in her mouth, heart racing as you watch her swallow the combination of your saliva and her cum without question.

you continue fucking her with your fingers until she moans, louder and louder as she reaches her peak.

removing your fingers from her pussy, you lock eyes with her as you bring your syrupy fingers to your mouth and suck off her juices. then, you kiss underneath her ear, lips sticking slightly to her skin, and you whisper: "now i know why they say you have the voice of an angel.”

“fuck,” she exhales, the breath turning into a chuckle as you kiss underneath her chin, where you know she’s ticklish.

"one more time for me, okay, pretty girl? i want to feel you against me," you whisper. "i want to watch you fall apart, knowing that i'm the one who makes you feel this good."

vi nods, allowing you to adjust your positions so that your cunts are touching. you start fucking her down into the mattress and she sits up slightly so that your nipples brush against each other, the cold metal of her piercings encouraging the roll of your hips, her nails digging into the curve of your ass to bring you impossibly closer. 

“i missed you too. so fucking much,” you finally admit.  you flick one of the silver rings before leaning down and wrapping your lips around her nipple. 

“i missed these, too,” you add as you release her nipple with a pop, and vi moans. you’re grinning from ear to ear because, holy shit, vi is here and you’re together and you’re both happy, if only at the ecstasy of your silken cunts gliding against each other, at the taste of the other slicking your tongues, as thick as nectar and twice as sweet.

she laughs — love and magic and everlasting bliss — and you have to capture her lips now if you want to swallow the sound. you feel it bounce through your ribcage, awaken something deep within you that you feared was lost to time.

vi thrusts her hips upwards, presses harder against the seam of your cunt until you’re gushing against each other, not quite sure who’s making what mess. 

strings of cum connect you as you remove your body from hers. for a few seconds, you both lay on your backs, staring up at the ceiling and trying to catch your breath. vi drapes an arm over her eyes, chest heaving. 

you throw on some clothes and leave the room, hoping that vi’s still there when you get back.

….

vi worries that if she opens her eyes, she’ll wake up from this dream. 

she’ll be in some uncomfortable bed in london or tokyo or los angeles. the dull ache between her legs would be thanks to some girl who’d be eager to text all her friends and spill all the details about what vi likes in bed, or caitlyn who would tell vi to shave next time, darling, or i won’t let you fuck me again anytime soon.

instead, vi hears the creak of a door opening, feet tiptoeing along the floorboards. the mattress shifts with the weight of someone between her legs, though their body is not touching hers. 

“vi, baby,” a gentle coaxing, a familiar voice, pulling towards something she forgot she needed. her heart soars when she finds you kneeling on the bed, holding a damp towel in one hand and a glass of water in another. 

“yeah?” her voice is hoarse, but her throat doesn’t sting in the same way it does after a concert. it feels tender, well-used, well-loved.

you hold out the cup of water, watch vi eagerly gulp down half of it before she realizes what she’s done.

“shit, i — did you want some?”

you smile and shake your head. “i had some downstairs after my shower.” it’s then that vi registers the water dripping from the ends of your hair, soaking the fabric of her (fine, your) sweatshirt. “i’m gonna clean you up. is that okay?”

vi nods.

okay? okay? vi thinks she might have whiplash. 

it’s been a while since someone has fucked her so well she’d be satisfied for years and then touched her so tenderly afterwards. you run the damp cloth over vi’s sticky, sweaty skin, occasionally leaning down to press soft lips where you’d left teeth marks and bruises before. 

“there.” you throw the cloth on the floor. “so, um. do you wanna stay….?” 

you bite your lip as you wait for vi to answer. you start picking at your nail polish, too. vi sits up and grabs your hand. 

“i do,” she soothes. “do you want me to?”

your smile brightens the entire room and you kiss vi before muttering:

“i do.”

vi slips on her boxers as you settle into the bed next to her, leaving her top half bare. she notices the sketchbook on your bedside table, and she lifts it up at you, a silent question if she can flip through. you take it from her as you shift to sit between her legs, her chest warm against your back. the room’s only illuminated by the string of multicolored christmas lights you’d left on, but vi can see the talent, the passion behind your work as you walk her through your sketchbook. you tell her about the techniques you’ve been working on and new mediums you want to explore, about how you want to make the kind of art that makes people appreciate the beauty in the everyday. 

“i always loved your art,” she muses. vi cranes her neck slightly, places a kiss on your shoulder then one on your cheek. “the world would be more beautiful if you shared it.”

you hum and place the sketchbook on your bedside table. you each shift to your sides, facing each other; vi notches a leg around your hips, and you throw an arm around her waist, fingers trailing down her tattooed back. 

“ekko talked to you, huh?”

“i would have said that even if he hadn’t,” vi promises. “so….have you heard anything yet?”

“well….yeah,” you sigh, smiling shyly. “i got in, actually.” 

“really? that’s amazing, baby.” she beams at you, excitedly cupping your face in her hands, leaving small kisses across your cheeks until you’re giggling. 

“okay, okay,” you laugh. “i don’t know if i’m gonna go yet.”

vi hums knowingly. she presses her forehead against yours. 

“i know you’re scared, baby,” she says softly. “but sometimes it’s just a leap of faith.” 

“i know.” you pause, gnawing at your bottom lip while your eyes fixate on the scar on her upper lip. “can i ask you something?

“anything.”

“when you proposed to me….” her body tenses up, but you brush your hand over her bicep and the tension in her muscles dissipates. “was that a leap of faith? like, were you scared?”

“well, not at first.” she takes a shuddery breath, her voice suddenly small. “i always thought that we’d be together….i just didn’t think through how we’d make it work, i guess. i didn’t mean to mess things up, though.”

“hey.” vi leans into the hand you cup around her cheek. “we both messed up. we never actually talked, you know? but….i’m glad we are, now.” you swallow. “i still love you, vi.”

vi exhales. “you know, girls tell me that they love me pretty much every day.” 

you can’t help it — you roll your eyes, and vi laughs. because, truthfully, her heart has felt more full at your admission of love just now than it ever has for an area of screaming fans.

“there’s a point to this, i promise,” she says, nudging her nose against yours. “i used to get such a thrill from it….but then i think about what you said earlier. my heart — it’s just not in it anymore. all the band is now is drama and gossip and compromises of fame over art, and…. i don’t know. it’s not really what i want anymore. i want to be with you. for real, this time.”

you blink at her; she can feel your chest pulsing against hers like a hummingbird.

“would you, um, if i were to take that leap of faith and do that artist residency, would you —”

“anywhere you wanna go,” vi promises. she thinks about it a bit more….how nice it’s been to be home for the holidays, how nice it would be to come home year round.  “preferably close enough so we can have dinner at home on the weekends.” 

“sounds like a plan,” you smile.

the two of you twist closer underneath the flannel sheets, sink into the mattress, and gaze up at the faded glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to your ceiling until you fall asleep in each other’s arms.

you jolt awake a few hours later, several firm knocks on the door and ekko shouting:

“it’s christmas! get the fuck up before ziggy eats all the bacon!”

beside you, vi protects you from the frosty winter morning. her body radiates warmth, and her eyes flutter open, ever so slightly, as you gently shake her shoulder. 

she groans, turning on her back, rubbing sleep from her eye. 

“i better go.” 

“....yeah.”

you flush when you glance over as vi’s slipping on her sweatshirt, rose-petal bruises delicate across her skin. she opens the window, hair still mussed up, and a gust of frigid air rushes into the room. 

the image is so familiar: vi, one leg in your room and another out the window. you feel like a teenager again, scrambling to get dressed and avoid anyone hearing that you’d snuck your girlfriend into your room late at night. but there’s something else now, too — you imagine this becoming routine: waking up next to each other every day, swapping clothes, kissing over coffee and pancakes at breakfast. a place where the two of you might create some new memories, build a shared life together. and much more, so much more that feels like it could be your reality, sooner rather than later. 

you’re so deep in thought that you don’t notice vi rushing back towards you. she kisses you and kisses you, until your lungs are burning.

"merry christmas, baby,” she mumbles against your lips.

you grin back at her. “merry christmas, vi.”

....

hi baby, i know you’re at studio right now, but i forgot to ask you this morning: how do you feel about sending out holiday cards this year? i know they’re kind of cheesy, but it seems like the type of thing married couples might do…..

anyways, we’ll talk about it when you get home. i’m test-driving this new recipe for brussel sprouts to bring to dinner at my dad’s. 

i’ll see you later. love you!

[ang3ltine]

"𝐓𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐭𝐬?"- Bucky barnes x former Avenger freader

An unexpected surprise awaits you when Bucky shows up at your house with a group of strangers

a.n - This is just a scenario of what it would be like for the members of the thunderbolts to crash at your place. Also this fic contains spoilers! (Pt.2 is here!!)

Warnings - John Walker, dark humour, mention of injuries, minor cursing, making out and major fluff!!

"You gotta be kidding me, were not seriously bringing Bob with us are we?"

"Look Captain America, if it weren't for Bob we wouldn't have made it out of that death trap of a lab alive!" Yelena replies sternly. "Besides, he seems to have more discipline than you'd ever have."

This seemed to tick John off as the two of them started shouting back and forth, while Bob sat between the two of them awkwardly.

"Ok uhm...can we maybe...not fight?" He mutters under his breath but was completely ignored. Ava rolls her eyes at the childish scene before her and flickers her gaze down towards the nervous man. Silently telling him that it wasn't worth wasting his breath.

Surprisingly enough, he understood rather quickly and kept his mouth shut. Bucky groans in annoyance at the bickering in the backseats, and it didn't help either when a large man was snoring away next to him.

But swiftly brushes it off after pulling into a familiar driveway. He hadn't been back at this house for about a week now, so he was dreading what awaited him when he opened the doors. Especially since he has four other guests with him, who he quite recently found acquaintanceship with just a few days ago.

"Listen up, we're staying at this place for a while until things die down. So please, don't make this harder for me than it already is." Bucky states as the the group follows him down the pathway towards a red brick secluded house that was tucked in a small corner of New York City.

They all exchanged confused looks before reluctantly nodding at the grumpy man, with a few grunts and hushed responses. Honestly they were just really tired and their bodies were sore so there was no use in complaining.

"God - I hope she's in a good mood..." Bucky mumbles before reaching into his pocket to fish out his keys and was about to put it into the keyhole. Only to be interrupted midway as he hears the sound of another car pulling up behind him.

"Bucky honey? Is that you?!"

Everyone turned around at the sudden mention of 'Bucky' and 'honey' in the same sentence. All but Bucky himself as he walks back down the pathway towards you.

"Did I hear that right? There's no way Mr. Congressman would have a girlfriend." Ava whispers to the others as they all watched him walk past the minivan, disappearing from their sight.

There were mixed reactions as they all talked amongst themselves, trying to figure out who you might be.

You were pretty confused as well since there was a dirty minivan parked in your driveway. As soon as you step out of your car to examine the vehicle, you catch a glimpse of a figure in the corner of your eye.

Adrenaline kicked in almost immediately, thinking maybe this was going to be a robbery. I mean you do live in a pretty sketchy neighbourhood so it was possible. The sun was setting so it was pretty difficult to see who it could be, you had your fighting stance ready as the person steps out of the shadows.

"God Bucky! You could've said something instead of sneaking up on me like that!" You yelled and tried calming yourself since your heart was practically hammering against your chest.

"Yeah sorry 'bout that doll, didn't mean to scare you," Bucky drawls as he pulls you into his arm for a warm embrace. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you bury your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in the strong scent of gasoline mixed with his cologne.

There was sand mixed with dirt on his tough leather jacket, but you didn't question it since he had finished a mission. Honestly speaking, you were just glad he was home again.

You then peer over Bucky's shoulder and finally noticed the rugged group of individuals standing in your porch.

They wanted to see what all the fuss was about so they snuck up on the couple and spied on them from behind the van. You were about to open your mouth to say something before spotting a familiar face amongst them.

She had short and slightly messy bob cut and an oddly cute frown on her face. Yelena steps forward hesitantly while examining your face at the same time, seemingly trying to figure out where she had seen you before.

Then it clicks, you were her older sisters best friend. She remembers how kind and comforting you acted towards her whenever she'd come to visit her sister.

You spread open your arms for her and without hesitation, Yelena falls into your embrace.

"Its good to see you 'lena," you murmured into her hair while she smiles at the mention of her nickname.

" 's good to see you too..."

Bucky joins the rest of the group, a small smile tugged at his lips as they all watched the heartwarming scene unfold before them.

He's not sure what waited them past this, but for now, he just wants this disfunctional group of anti-heroes to find some sort of peace while they stayed here.

"Sorry I brought them here on such short notice," Bucky mutters as he leans down to your height when you let the others into your house.

"Ahh it's no biggy. Besides, I'm happy to have more house guests." You quipped while closing the door after Bob awkwardly walks in as the last in line.

Everyone had already made their way down the hall towards the living room to look around. Yelena let's out a long whistle as she checks out the place, to be fair, your house was quite spacious since you got the best place in the neighbourhood thanks to Pepper.

Although she insisted on getting you a penthouse, you turned down the offer.

"What's this?" Alexei asks with curiosity after picking up a delicately crafted box. You ran over to where he was and effortlessly took it from his hands so that he doesn't break it.

"Oh well - it's a gift from a friend. She's gone now...so I like to keep it up on the mantle to remember her by." You say in a hushed tone while you look down at the detailed craftsmanship in your hands.

Alexei knew exactly how you felt, so he placed a large hand on your shoulder and gave you a light squeeze of acknowledgement. "I understand, Alexei has been through much loss just like you."

Thanks to Yelena, you had the privilege of meeting Alexei a few years back when Natasha was still alive. So you were happy to have both of them back in your life.

"Dad, you can stop bothering her now. You've said enough shit already." Yelena groans while dragging Alexei away from you since he was still rambling on about Natasha and how much you reminded him of her.

"Do we have enough space for them?" You felt Bucky's fingers brush against the back of your hand to get your attention since you were still deep in thought.

"Hey...you ok doll?" Bucky asks with a worried tone since you hadn't responded to his previous question. You snap out of your thoughts and look to your left to see Bucky by your side. His brows were furrowed as he brought up his other unoccupied hand to cup your cheek.

"Uh yeah..! I'm fine," you respond with a tight-lipped smile. Bucky had just come back from a mission, so you didn't want him to now worry about you too. He wanted to press on but then thought it would be better if he just let it slide this time.

"Are we sleeping down here?!" Yelena yells from another room down the hall. The rest of you make your way to where Yelena was, she had found one of the guest rooms and was already laying down on the neatly done sheets.

"You could've at least taken a shower before hopping onto the bed," Bucky sighed in disappointment. Yelena's clothes were pretty dirty since they had come back from the desert.

"Oh right! Sorry that was my bad," Yelena responds in a muffled voice as her face was now planted into the plush pillows.

"Its fine, there's extra duvet covers in the storage closet," you say while walking towards the walk-in closet in the room. "Don't worry guys! There's more rooms upstairs."

"Do we have to share? I'm not sure how I'd feel if I have Santa Clause sharing a bed with me." John grunted while crossing his arms. You assumed he was referring to Alexei , which almost made you snort in response.

"I'm serious! Does he not look like the Russian Santa Claus to you?" John carries one while Yelena lets out a coarse laugh from the bed.

"Pfft - sorry John, there's only 3 guest rooms, so you have to pick your roommate wisely." Bob lifts his hand up shyly and clears his throat.

"I wouldn't mind sharing...if that's OK with you?" John thought about it for a moment before giving in. "You know what? Why not?"

"Great! That leaves one more vacant room -" You were cut off by another female voice.

"I'll take it," Ava replies rather quickly. John was about to protest and say that he changed his mind, but Ava gives him a sharp look which made him backdown. You were going to ask for her name, only to be cut off yet again.

"Oh right sorry, the name's Ava," she says plainly while giving you a small smile.

"Uhh OK cool, it's nice to meet you Ava. Let me guess, you also have an incredibly sad back story like the rest of us?"

"Oh God, don't even get me started..."

"Also...what's all this talk about 'thunderbolts'?" You prodded while giving Ava a confused look. Ava curses underneath her breath while the others shout in since that they're not called 'the thunderbolts.'

"Thunderbolts yes!! That's my lovely 'lena's football team name from when she was a child -"

"Dad please stop--!" Yelena groans while trying to get Alexei to stay quiet. It brought a smile to your face to see how liveley your house had become after being alone for a week.

"Alright, is there anyone here who needs medical care?" You asked while handing the new duvet sheets to Yelena.

"I think all of us do," Yelena sighed while clutching her side. She was so excited to finally sleep on a comfortable bed that the adrenaline rush took over, making her forget about the pain.

You nodded before turning back to the group. "Right, who wants to go first?"

Everyone had lined up in the washroom to get themselves checked since it would be easier for you to clean up afterwards.

You were currently bandaging Yelena's arm as she winces slightly. If anything, she had been through the worst due to the others being practically impenetrable.

"Just leave this on for a few weeks and take some painkillers. Trust me, the pain will be gone before you know it."

"Ok, thank you," Yelena exhaled while she got up to let the next person in. John walks into your view as you clean up the area for him to take his seat on the stool. The space was pretty cramped since you chose the guest washroom instead of the large one upstairs.

"Hey John, got any major inuries?" You asked while preparing a wetcloth and some bandages. John stops you midway and he shook his head.

"No not really, just have a few cuts on my face and the side of my head." True enough, he looked like he was perfectly fine except for some cuts and grazes that was scattered across his face.

You almost forgot that he took the super soldier serum back when he was Captain America. It was hard to forgot since you were with Sam and Bucky at the time. You nodded before putting away the bandages and took your seat infront of him. Now that you were face to face with him, you noticed how mature, yet different he looked from before.

"Must've been rough for you, running from the law." You start off by cleaning some of the smaller cuts with some wipes. "Trust me...I would know."

You were referring to the time you were on the run with Steve and the others for two years after freeing Bucky. That was how you two met and became close in Wakanda.

"You have no idea..." John responds with a slight waver in his voice. You choose not to press further and lightly dab the bigger cut on the side of his eyebrow.

Unbeknownst to you, John was silently admiring the way you were taking care of him. He doesn't mean this in a creepy way, rather he's surprised that anyone would show an ounce of care for him due to his character and lack of social awareness.

Bucky, on the other hand, misunderstood the scene completely. He had a glass of water in his hand when he went to check up on you. The water that was already in his mouth almost made him choke as he saw the way John made doe eyes at you.

As much as he wanted to strangle the man on the spot, he waited and observed at the doorframe. A smile threatened to tug at the corner of your lips as you felt the presence of the jealous man boring his eyes at the side of your head.

"Relax hon', John's just being John." Speaking of John, he blinked at you in confusion before looking up to see Bucky shooting bullets at him with his eyes.

"Don't worry, he's not going to do anything." You whispered before placing a clear bandaid on the scar. John didn't know if he felt reassured or threatened, so as soon as you finished, he scrambles to his feet.

Bucky steps aside to let John leave, but not before leaning towards him to say something. John flickers his gaze between you and Bucky before leaving with a terrified look on his face.

"Bucky dear, what did you say to him?" You sighed while placing the remainder of the medical equipment back in the medicine cabinet.

"Oh nothing really, just...gave him a peptalk." Bucky responds with a smug smirk as he walks into the washroom. You raise an eyebrow at him, which prompted Bucky to pull you in close by your waist with his arms.

"I didn't threaten him doll," Bucky drawls while bumping his forehead against yours, letting his hair frame his face. It was slightly damp with clumps of sand still stuck in some places. You'd have to remind him to take a shower later after dinner.

"Uh huh, that's why he left like a pale ghost? Because you gave him a 'peptalk'," you mused while playing with the lose strands of Bucky's hair that fell over his eyes. Bucky chuckles softly before responding.

"Right...just a peptalk." Your breath hitches when he bends down to your height while his hair tickled your nose from a loose strand.

"You know you're a really bad liar, right?" You huffed while the rough pad of Bucky's thumb ran gently across your cheek. Your skin felt soft and warm underneath his touch since the blood had rushed to the surface, painting a soft hue of red across your cheeks.

"So? Is that a bad thing?" Bucky's voice goes an octave lower while he inches closer towards your lips, his breath now heavy against yours. His scent flooded your senses, it was a mixture of his cologne and his natural musk from his skin. He hesitates before flickering his gaze up to you again. Silently begging for your permission.

You pondered for a moment while tapping a finger on your chin. "Hmm, do you really deserve a kiss?"

Bucky tilts his head to the side before giving you a deadpan look. But you knew that he was fighting back a smile, so you were the first to lean in. He did deserve a reward for being the amazing partner that he was. Except, he was too quick for you.

He dips his head low, and presses his slightly chapped lips against yours, practically melting into yours. The kiss was gentle yet full of desire. Head tilting the side, his hot breath mingling with yours as his tongue dragged gently across your bottom lip.

Coaxing you to open your mouth. Your tongue meets his as the hand slips down towards your waist. Pressing his fingers into your supple skin, which will definitely leave marks considering how tight his grip was. Not that he didn't mean to, of course.

"Love you s'much," your voice was barely a whisper as it was all becoming too much for you. Bucky let's out a small chuckle as you began to pepper his face with quick pecks before moving back to his lips.

He could picture his lips were probably now a sugary pink colour due to the lipbalm that you wore. The brand was probably called... Summer Fridays? Or something across that line.

"Love you too angel..." he mumbled against your plush lips.

The couple completely unaware that Yelena, Ava and Bob was spying on them from afar with popcorn in hand.

"Guys...I feel a sneeze coming," Bob whispers towards the two women sitting next to him.

"Cucumber! Cucumber! Cucumber!!" Both Ava and Yelena whisper shouted back and forth hurriedly. But it was no use, the sneeze along with their hushed shouting caught the attention of the couple in the washroom.

Needless to say, they learned their lesson from Bucky after an hour long lecture of why they shouldn't spy on people. That also included the punishment of getting limited screen time on the TV as well as playing video games.

p.s - I really love John's character and I believe he has some depth to him that could be explored more

Taglist: @doodlebob-mp3 @marianastudiesart @ordelixx @starktonyx @hisredheadedgoddess28 @avatarobsessedgirly @perdidosbucky-yyo

[madamechrissy]

Nanny! Nanami headcanons

pairings- Nanny! Nanami x CEO fem! reader

warnings- sexual tension for now, reader is a mama, mentions of masturbation, lil bit forbidden relationship vibes, down bad Nanami, mutual pining, Papamin is here!!

Nanami won my poll for the next story I'll be making!! (maybe a long oneshot idk yett) I haven't written much of him lately, so here are some hcs for noww

Nanny! Nanami who shows up just like Mary Poppins one day, after your cute but terrifying daughter Yuuka has chased off another of her Nannies, leaving you bringing her to your office that day. Little did you know one of your appointments for the day happens to have a degree in childcare, Nanami Kento.

Nanny! Nanami comes in and you shake his hand, big and warm, you can't help but pause at just how handsome he is, when he smiles sweetly at you. 'Sorry, my daughter had to come with me, but don't worry we can still talk business' you say with a smile in return. Nanami looks over at Yuuka now, smiling at her as well, your little girl, who is by all accounts a mischievous little demon for almost anyone but you. You know she hates that you have to work, but as a single mom that's just what you have to do, and running your marketing agency required you to come in the office frequently.

Nanny! Nanami is so handsome, professional, you expect him to need marketing advice, when he sits across from you, brushing off his suit over a broad shoulder, but soon he surprises you, with his soft, husky voice - 'I saw your ad, that you need a Nanny?' You blink a bit in surprise then, sure men were Nannies you supposed but you've never seen one. 'I went to college for just that, actually but I guess I could be called a Manny if you prefer' his lips twitch in humor and you giggle.

Nanny! Nanami is sitting criss cross on the floor coloring with Yuuka soon, so patient and sweet as you go over his resume, his references, he's truly a miracle worker and just what you need, despite the pricy salary request. 'You're so hired, if you can handle her' your daughter giggles a bit, and Nanami's hazel eyes study you from behind green shades, he's in this three piece suit with crayons in his hand, so cute you melt. 'I am always up for a challenge, when should I start?'

Nanny! Nanami is a miracle worker, truly, just one week of him watching your little girl and she's already hugging on his leg, crying when he even says he's leaving for the day. 'Stay for dinner, I'm making steaks' you offer softly, just before Nanami checks his Rolex, he certainly was worth his very expensive salary in every way, shit you'd give him more. 'Not overtime just dinner' you tease, he's always out the door right at 5:30. He eases off his coat as she tugs at his khaki slacks, smiling at the two of you. 'Dinner sounds lovely'

Nanny! Nanami fits in your life far too well, after having dinner and you putting her to bed, he's in your kitchen wiping down the counters and putting food up. Your heart pounds when you realize his sleeves are rolled up, revealing veiny forearms with a dusting of blond hair. His shirt is unbuttoned just a bit, loosened cheetah tie, as he gives you a tired smile that has no right being so attractive. And you realize maybe it's been too long since your husband left you, too long since you've been intimate, as washing dishes next to him makes you burn with desire.

Nanny! Nanami stays over for dinner often soon, he figures he might as well, versus going home alone to his apartment, he enjoys talking to you, watching you with your little girl, who becomes more dear to him every day. The spitting image of you, he finds it hard to believe she was so troublesome, as you tell him so many tales of her before. Soon the two of you are alone, it's been a month of him working for you, and you hand him an envelope as you crack open a bottle of wine, he pauses, across the marble kitchen counter. 'What's this?' He asks softly. Running a hand through your hair, brushing it off your shoulder, he feels his blood rush, eyes darting to your collarbone, imagining planting kisses on it. 'Just a thank you'

Nanny! Nanami sees the bonus you've put in, but for some reason it feels so wrong to take so much money, he loves watching your daughter and loves spending time with you. He clears his throat a bit, tugging at his tie as you put the crystal glass to your red lips, and he has a wild image of smearing your lipstick, which he tries to shove down. 'This is too much-' you cut him off with a wave of your hand. 'You have no clue how much I appreciate you' your emotions hit then, before you can think Nanami is brushing a tear away with one of his long fingers, and he's leaning over you, far, far too close.

Nanny! Nanami can't stop thinking of you after that moment, of how your lips parted just so, of how you felt when he hugged you, cursing himself because its not professional or okay to feel this way, the need to be part of your life without the title. He tries to watch himself, to not come so close, the more he works and is near you, the more he feels like this is family, and he can't. He has no clue why anyone would ever leave you two amazing girls, when he finally meets the ex, who comes to your work one day, and gets in your face, that's when he crosses his personal boundary, stepping right between you and him. 'And who is this!?' Nanami chuckles, towering over the man, as you say - 'he's who helps take care of my daughter, now leave' you're so shaken up when he storms out, Nanami holds you close.

Nanny! Nanami is watching a show with your daughter on the couch that night, when you hear it 'Papamin!' And he pauses, as do you, walking up just a bit and sitting at the arm of the couch 'papamin?' you ask softly, brushing her hair back, and she giggles with a beautiful smile. 'He is Papamin!' after a quiet moment, Nanami carries her to bed, and soon finds you knocked out on the same couch, he smiles with fondness, brushing your hair off your beautiful face. You're still in work work dress, blazer and heels and all, making him sigh, as he soon picks you up in his strong arms. You blink just a bit, yawning as you cling to him, inhaling that sandalwood and musk so intoxicating, while he walks you up those stairs.

Nanny! Nanami eases you down, and your cheeks heat up, body responding to his every movement, quiet rustled of clothing as he eases off your blazer, and his hands linger for just a moment. 'You need some rest, you're overdoing it' you sigh, a hand slipping up his light blue dress shirt, as you tremble in front of him, teeth catching your lower lip. 'Thank you for everything Nanami, gosh I... hope you never leave' it's quiet then, and you curse, shaking your head as you lower it, resting on his chest, hiding your flushed features. 'Oh god ignore that please, I don't expect you to always work here, it's just... she loves you so much and...' Nanami shushes you then, holding you close against his strong body, hand running up the small of your back. 'I love working with you'

Nanny! Nanami inhales your sweet scent, as you look up with dilated eyes, turning away then and lifting your hair off the nape of your neck. 'Could you unzip me, please?' He gulps as he does just that, revealing your back inch by inch, until it falls in a pool around still heeled ankles, showing him your black lace bra, panties and stockings, you turn now, so sexy his breath is caught, he can't even speak. He's not inexperienced by any means but you make him feel like a stuttering high school boy, as you now sit on your bed, reaching to unclasp a heel.

Nanny! Nanami instantly helps you, eyeing your smooth skin, your thighs peeking over garters, when he sees it, slick glistening on your inner thigh, his thumb brushes it, making you gasp, as the slick heat is spread, and goosebumps follow. The two of your eyes lock, your hand grips a tie you'd die to have around your wrists, his lips hovering, tasting of sweet whiskey as his breath burns your lips, when the door knocks. He curses softly, clearing his throat, murmuring 'I'm so sorry...' but you shake your head, quickly throwing on a robe. 'Please don't be!' Your daughter is soon in your bed and Nanami leaves for the night, but now he can't get his employer and her slick cunt off his mind, sucking you off his thumb and moaning in his car that night.

Nanny! Nanami wants you so badly he can't stop it when he strokes his cock in his bed, picturing burying his face between your thighs, making you feel so good your manicured nails would tug at his hair. He can't stop himself from cumming over and over, sure he could call over some woman, but how can he when you're in his life!? When he sees you again the next morning as usual, and you're smiling so pretty, he feels so guilty, he just busted in his hand thinking of his employer several times. Were you just tired, a little buzzed that night? Fuck he just wants to spend all his time with you, he brings Yuuka by your office and you light up, smiling so big at them, melting him even fucking further, as he feels himself falling ever deeper.

Nanny! Nanami is ready to leave for the night, he can still practically taste you, Yuuka has gone to bed early when you surprise him then, pouring a glass of your favorite red, then leaning up, giving him a perfect view of an ass that's just begging for him. He wills his thoughts to subside, to stay composed, when you pull down a decanter, crystal and glimmering, smiling at him. 'You like whiskey, right?' he sighs, nodding and taking the little glass you pour over ice, sipping it and eyeing you over the rim. 'I should just have one, though, since it's... getting late.' You panic, have you done too much, are you being too obvious, does he not want more? Was he just... in the moment? After his glass he takes your hand, kissing the back of it, lips burning an impression into your skin.

Nanny! Nanami murmurs a 'Good night, darling' to you, leaving you speechless at the term, and his footsteps echo along your tile floors, in a home that feels perfect when he's here with the two of you. Before you can stop yourself, you say his name, making him halt his steps, eyeing you with dilated eyes, tired and so sexy, his cheekbones even more enhanced as his jaw locks. You slowly walk up to him, until the two of you are an inch away, you swallow, trying to get the nerve to say it then- 'Nanami, please stay the night, it's really no bother at all, we could... have another drink' you murmur quietly in the foyer, tempting him with your every heatbeat, and he takes a breath. 'I would love to'

<3 idea spawned by @afkmylajah's suggestion

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[sysig]

Your Weekly TV Guide

On Monday you can expect:

2:30 PM: Hermitcraft - Rescuing Rusty

And Tuesday:

2:30 PM: Adventure Time

Wednesday:

2:30 PM: AT

Thursday:

2:30 PM: AT

Friday:

2:30 PM: AT - Petrigrof

Saturday:

2:30 PM: Just Desserts - Pets

Sunday:

2:30 PM: Sona daily goings-on

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