#and it's so annoying that i have to deal with the angst that comes out as adolescent rudeness etc. every single day

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hello blusy!

I would like to request something about Donna dating reader and everything going great but reader's family is hesitant about the relationship and that makes reader sad. Donna sensing how important family is to reader decides to get out of her comfort zone and tries to make reader's family more comfortable around her like making toys for readers little nieces and nephews after seeing their parents don't have much money to buy them a lot of toys. and ironically the little ones of the family are the ones more comfortable around donna and angie. Maybe one day reader gets sick and her family witness how donna is there for her and taking care of her and that makes them change their mind like "okay, maybe she is not that bad like they say".

Thank you!

Yesss!!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))

Opening their eyes

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, maybe a bit of angst

Word count: 8,543

Summary: You can't choose between Donna and your family...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“Ugh, mom,” you protested while your mother hugged you as if she hadn't seen you in years.

“(Y/N), you don't know how happy I am to see you,” the woman said, with shining eyes, as if she really thought that for a moment she had lost you. “I thought I would never…”

“It's not that big of a deal,” you said with an amused smile, downplaying it while you made a gesture with your hands.

“Young lady,” your father whispered, crossing his arms as you entered the house. “We were really worried about you. You didn't come last week.”

“Oh, well, I had a terrible cold,” you explained, accompanying your parents to the living room. “I was too tired to come.”

“It was definitely a cold,” your father said with a certain irony that made you roll your eyes. “You could have called.”

“Sorry, dad, I was too busy with the fever,” you said amused, relaxing in what was once your home. “I've told you a thousand times that I'm fine.”

They both looked at each other with a strange expression, sitting next to you and bringing you a cup of tea.

“I know those looks,” you said suspiciously, frowning. “What's wrong? Did something happen with Mihaela? Oh, don't tell me she's pregnant again.”

“Your sister is perfectly fine, (Y/N),” your mother said with a serious tone.

“Great,” you said nodding, blowing on your cup. “Me too.”

“Allow me to doubt it,” your father murmured, with his eyebrows raised.

“Look at me, I’m fine,” you said spreading your arms in an exaggerated way. “I've never been better,” you said the last sentence with a slightly darker tone, knowing what they really meant. “(Y/N), honey, why don't you come home?” your mother finally asked, giving vent to something you knew she was holding back. “You'd be better off with your parents.”

“Mm, I see,” you said, huffing again, leaning your back on the couch as you shook your head. “There's no way I'm coming to visit you without you trying to drag me back into your shelter, huh?”

“We only want the best for you,” your mother said, with a worried expression.

“What about Mihaela? You don't demand that she come back to live with you,” you protested, in a somewhat childish way.

“Mihaela has formed a wonderful family, (Y/N),” your father asserted. “A completely normal one.”

“Oh, of course, I'm not normal,” you said in a mocking tone, narrowing your eyes. “I've heard this before.”

“What your father means, (Y/N),” your mother interrupted, giving her husband a fiery look. “It's that your sister doesn't give us any reason to worry about.”

“Doesn’t she?” you said, blinking petulantly. “So, according to you, I should be married and giving you lots of grandchildren, right?”

“Sometimes I dream that's true, (Y/N),” the man said, with a satisfied look. “At least she doesn't live with a dangerous crazy woman.”

“Hey,” you sighed annoyed, shaking your head. “You've set a new record, dad, it didn't take you even 5 minutes to mess with Donna, fabulous.”

“Donna…” he whispered, with a fake smile. “Of course, I should have guessed that my youngest daughter would get involved with the freakiest freak in the village.”

“Marcus… Don't say things like that, what if she can hear you?” your mother said, looking around.

At that comment you couldn't help but laugh ironically, swallowing the words that wanted to come out of your mouth, reflecting before starting another argument with your parents, another argument about your girlfriend.

“Can't you understand that I love her?” you said annoyed. “Besides, Donna is a Lord, I couldn't be more protected with anyone.”

“We, (Y/N), we are the ones who need to be protected from them,” your father said, always finding a scathing answer for everything you said. “Protectors of the village… well, they're just a bunch of heartless monsters. Sorry for worrying that one of them seduced my daughter.”

“Seduced?” you asked, leaning forward, starting to get nervous. “There are at least two things wrong with what you said. First, Donna isn't a monster, and second… to be fair, I seduced her.”

“Gods…” your mother sighed, probably imagining horrible things in her head. “Couldn't you notice someone normal, like your sister did?”

“You know that my tastes are special,” you said haughtily, looking at your nails. “Hey, I understand that you have doubts, but I assure you that Donna is a nice soul, she takes care of me, loves me and protects me.”

“She's crazy, (Y/N), everyone knows it, you knew it since you were little,” your mother said, putting a protective hand on your shoulder. “It's just a matter of time before she hurts you.”

“Ugh, how many times do I have to say it? Donna isn't crazy, she's sick,” you said, defending your girlfriend, as always. “If I had lived in isolation, enduring the mockery of children, my sister would have died and my parents would have thrown themselves into the void in front of me, I wouldn't be right in the head either.”

“I see she has taught you well to defend her,” your father whispered, darkening his gaze. “What else has she taught you, (Y/N)?”

“Do you really want to know?” you challenged with a sharp tone, internally trying to calm your words.

“(Y/N),” your mother protested at your rudeness. “It doesn't matter what you say, we are older, we have known Lady Beneviento since long before you were born and we know the horrible things she has done.”

“You know how to judge others, don't you? You seem good at it,” you said with a slightly childish tone. “Look, I'm 22 years old. I'm old enough to judge for myself.”

“You're a brat, (Y/N),” your father said, pointing at you with his finger. “Your mother also thought she was old enough at your age, and what a coincidence, Mihaela was born shortly after.”

“Well, don't worry, I'm not pregnant,” you said mockingly, looking away from your parents. “Hey... I know Donna seems terrible and that she's... a little scary, but I assure you that she's a kind, loving and sensitive woman. She has nothing to do with what those stupid rumors say.”

“A rumor can be false, (Y/N), but hundreds of them are closer to the truth,” your mother commented, with that tone of false wisdom that got on your nerves. “You're in love, you probably have her idealized, and when you realize your mistake we won't be able to save you.”

“Save me? That was a good one,” you said, shaking your head, moving your legs nervously. “I don't need anyone to save me, mom. Donna isn't like they say, but I care less and less that you don't believe me.”

“You should care, young lady,” your father said with the same smug tone. “Don't you understand that we're doing this for your own sake?”

“And you don't understand that Donna is good for me?” you counterattacked, with a harsher tone. “If you're going to be messing with Donna every time I come to see you, maybe I have to stop coming.”

“Lady Beneviento is a sinister and dangerous woman, I can't sleep peacefully knowing that you live with someone like that,” your mother said, making your anger increase.

“If you knew her you wouldn't say those things,” you murmured with an indignant pose, thinking coldly about your words.

“No, thank you, I'm proud that none of those abominations have ever entered my house,” the man said with a sarcastic smile. “That woman is not welcome here, (Y/N).”

“Wait, Marcus...” your mother whispered, thoughtfully. “What if the girl is right? Maybe we should give her the benefit of the doubt.”

“Svetlana, don't be condescending, a brat like her doesn't have the right to the benefit of the doubt,” your father growled. “Keep that freak away from this house, (Y/N), and away from you.”

“Insult her again, come on,” you said, standing up threateningly. “If you don't accept Donna it means you don't accept me, so I don't want to waste my time in this house anymore,” you said angrily, walking to grab your coat and walk out the door.

“(Y/N)…” your mother sighed, chasing you, while your father didn't move, staying on the couch with a mocking laugh. “(Y/N), wait…”

“No, mom, you're always judging me, I've been living with Donna for a year and I've never given you any reason to worry about, but you don't understand, you still don't understand,” you said, opening the door. “My sister married an idiot and you've never said anything to her, is it because Donna's a woman?”

“No, honey, it's because of who that woman is,” your mother said, closing the door a little behind you.

“It doesn't matter how many times I tell you that the rumors are wrong, right? Why bother to keep insisting? I'm leaving, we'll see each other later,” you said, turning around abruptly, ready to go back home.

“Wait, (Y/N),” your mother interrupted with a hand on your arm. “Wait, my girl. Listen, next week your nephews are coming to eat at home, and I would like you to come too.

“I, of course,” you hissed, blinking impatiently. “I'll think about it.”

“Maybe you could... I don't know, maybe it would be a good time for us to meet... Lady Beneviento,” your mother hinted, making you raise your eyebrows.

“Mm, do you want to meet Donna? It's funny, you just said that she's a dangerous crazy woman,” you said suspiciously.

“I honestly don't have any desire to meet... that woman, but maybe I could feel relieved if I saw for myself that she's not a danger to you,” the woman explained, making you think.

“Donna doesn't leave the house, I doubt it's possible,” you muttered to yourself, scratching the back of your neck. “Can't you just trust my word?”

“We trust your sister's word and now we have two grandchildren,” your mother joked, which caused you to give a slight smile to her. “Sometimes you have to see it to believe it, (Y/N).”

“I don't promise you anything,” you whispered, really thinking about that possibility. “Besides, dad doesn't want her to enter his house.”

“Oh, let me convince your father, you know that he softens a lot when he's with the kids,” she said amused, putting your clothes back on in a motherly way.

“I assure you that it is much easier to convince that stubborn old man than Donna, but well, I will try,” you said, walking back home.

Visits to your parents always had a bitter taste, an almost unbearable tension that you had to go through. For you, your family was important, really important, and your new circumstances didn’t prevent you from continuing to maintain contact.

You were a simple villager, born into a humble family, with no outstanding features beyond a certain ease with words. Your destiny was never written, it was always a messy scribble written with erasable ink. One day, the day when, by chance, you met Donna Beneviento, Lord of the village, the words were finally written permanently, indelible.

Donna was a strange woman, yes, sick and tormented by her past. She had been alone for years, fulfilling her duties to the village, protecting it, keeping it under the protection of the Black Gods. You were no stranger to the rumors, to the terrible things she did in the past. You never gave importance to those acts of self-defense or desperate moves.

She was… cultured, sensitive, tremendously intelligent and she was longing to have someone who really understood her, someone who would brutally end her loneliness, forever. Of course you didn't think that it was you.

Her beauty hidden by a horrible veil, the sale of her soul to the Gods, her worries, her complexes, her insecurities, soon became discoveries for you, things that made the lady in black more and more interesting.

Falling in love with her was not difficult, her falling in love with you was just a matter of days. Contrary to what anyone might think, your life wasn’t a torment of hallucinations and nightmares, but quite the opposite, it was a valley full of light and affection, of kisses, hugs, words of love, strong and unbreakable feelings.

Of course you remember the day when you had no choice but to tell your parents who was occupying your thoughts, with whom you would spend the rest of your life. To say that they were surprised would be to understate it. You argued with them, your mother cried, your father cried for revenge…

During that whole year you did nothing but show off the Italian's goodness to them, beg them to stop worrying and pay attention to partially false rumors. They never believed you, every time you went to visit them it was the same story. Worry, fear, childish strategies to get you to return to them…

No one, not even your family could get you to stop loving Donna, no one, never, but sometimes, just sometimes, you wished the situation would change, that your parents would accept your decisions and stop thinking you were just an immature brat.

You had found the love of your life and, having clear where you wanted to be, your next goal became to achieve that pleasant coexistence between the two most important things in your life, Donna and your family.

“Tesoro, are you okay? You haven't tried the lasagna, don't you like it?” the lady in black asked, while you were having dinner in silence, as always.

You shook your head as you played with your food, submerged in a sea of ​​thoughts and helplessness that threatened to disturb your happiness.

“I love your lasagna, really,” you said sighing, starting to eat your dinner so as not to worry your girlfriend absurdly.

“Is something wrong, (Y/N)? Are you feeling sick again?” the lady asked again, with that worried glint in her eye that you adored.

Seriously, how could your parents doubt her? The hard thing was getting her to let you breathe.

“Mm? No, no, I'm fine,” you said with a confident tone, nodding confidently.

“You shouldn't leave the house yet, you could suffer a relapse,” Donna said, with a dark look.

“Nonsense, I'm fine,” you said amused, suppressing a cough that revealed that perhaps you hadn't fully recovered. “I need some wine.”

Donna smiled tenderly, serving you a glass in an elegant manner.

“Prego…” she whispered, leaving the bottle on the table and studying you with her gaze. “Is anything worrying you?”

“No, nothing,” you lied, with a sigh that revealed your true thoughts.

As expected, the lady in black wasn’t the most versed in interpreting gestures or typical human behavior. Poor thing, she spent too much time alone.

“Donna,” you said, drawing her attention with a frown at her involuntary indifference. “Hey, look at me. It's obvious that something is worrying me.”

“Oh, um... is something wrong?” she asked confused, stopping eating. “You told me you were fine.”

“Please, it was obviously a lie,” you joked, shaking your head. “Come on, try again, darling.”

“I... Is something wrong?” she asked  nervously, confused by your much more casual attitude, by your heart's attempt to give back to the brunette all the years that cruel fate had taken from her.

“Yes,” you sighed, finishing your dinner and taking a sip of wine. “I argued with my parents again,” you finally said, with a sad tone.

“I'm so sorry,” Donna said, reaching out her hand to caress yours tenderly. “It was my fault, right?”

“No, well…” you said, unsure if it was the right answer. “It's not your fault, darling, it's just that they are… stubborn,” you said with a slightly more relaxed tone. “They are incapable of accepting what we have.”

“It’s my fault then,” she murmured, wiping her face with a napkin and lowering her gaze. “They must think I'm a monster.”

“No,” you lied again, playing with her hand, caressing it gently so she wouldn't get too nervous.

A crisis was the last thing you needed that day.

“It's not your fault, Donna, it's them who... Ugh, they think I don't have enough judgment to decide who I want to spend the rest of my life with,” you commented, rolling your eyes. “What nonsense, my sister's husband is a jerk and they never told her anything.”

“He wasn't a Lord,” the lady whispered, shaking her head. “They just want to protect you... from me.”

“No, no, no, Donna, don't start with your super-powerful-Lord complex” you said moving your other hand and studying her nervous gestures, the trembling of her hand in yours. “I love you just the way you are, my love, I don't care if you're a Lord or...”

“Or a nutcase,” she finished, lowering her gaze again.

“Well, they can say whatever they want,” you finally sighed, finishing your glass of wine. “I don't care what they think of you, I know it's not like that. Damn it, they judge me when both my mother and my sister got pregnant by two stupid oafs, do they really think I would do the same?”

The lady choked on her drink at your joking tone, taking everything you said seriously again.

“(Y/N)..., n-no, I don't think…” she said somewhat nervously, with a fake laugh.

“I'm just saying it's unfair,” you said, rolling your eyes again at her innocence.

“Yes, but don't worry, tesoro, I don't care what they think of me,” she said, downplaying it.

“I do care, Donna. They're just stupid rumors,” you protested, crossing your arms.

“Not everything is rumors,” the lady whispered, looking away, embarrassed. “You know that, (Y/N)”

“W-Well, what does it matter? We've all made mistakes in the past, or killed someone, or… well, not that but…”

Donna shook her head, with a mix of pain and amusement at your stupid way of excusing the Lord for… well, being a Lord.

“(Y/N), vieni,” she said, gesturing for you to get up, a gesture you obeyed, letting her sit you on her lap with an elegant movement. “Amore mio… don't give it any importance, everything is fine.”

You sighed, letting her lips rest on yours slowly, in one of those kisses that melted you completely.

“Yes, Donna, but… it's frustrating, they say those horrible things because they don't know you,” you murmured, playing playfully with her black hair, pouting. “That no one is able to see the wonderful woman you are makes me angry.”

“The only thing I care about is that you think that way, even if you're wrong,” your girlfriend whispered, kissing you again, giving you that tenderness you needed at that moment. “Mm, let's go pick this up, okay? It's been a long day.”

The time finally came for the sheets to warm your body a little. You were exhausted, still recovering from the flu you had a week ago, and with everything that had happened, you just wanted to rest.

Donna was reading beside you as always, stroking your head distractedly while you daydreamed suddenly remembering something important, something you had to try.

“Donna,” you said, getting her attention, making her put the book down and nod for you to talk. “Next week I have to go to have lunch with my parents, my nephews are coming and…”

“Mm, well, I guess I can't do anything to stop you from leaving me alone,” she whispered in a sad tone.

Yes, it had been hard for you to fight her madness, her jealousy, her reluctance to stay alone in that mansion again.

“Yes, well…” you said, scratching the back of your neck, keeping her gaze, something difficult to do due to the spark of jealousy in her eye. “I-I want to ask you a favor.”

“If it's in my hands, I'll do it,” she said in a stoic, confident tone.

“Yes, um…” you stammered, regretting the proposal you were going to make her. “My nephews, Niko and Olga, you know that their family doesn't have much money and…”

“How much do they need?” Donna offered immediately, without thinking.

“No, no, it's not that,” you stammered, juggling in your mind to avoid that awkward moment. “What I mean is that their parents can't buy them many toys and they have to share them.”

“What's the point, tesoro?” the lady asked, impatient with your stammering.

“Well, you make dolls so… I thought that if you don't have much work, you could make them some toys, you know…” you asked uncertainly.

She nodded without hesitation, looking for a notebook on her table, where she used to write down orders.

“Sure, of course,” she said with a smile, opening the notebook. “It's my job. Tell me, what do your nephews like?”

“Niko is a fan of racing cars and Olga… Well, it's not hard to please her, one of those cheesy dolls you make will do, Oh, I mean… one of your fantastic dolls,” you said amused.

“Mm,” Donna murmured, writing things down in the notebook and laughing at your innocent mistake. “Una macchina… va bene. I'll need to ask the Duke for some materials, but it's no problem.”

“See? You're wonderful, my love,” you said, stealing a deep kiss from her while she laughed at your attack of affection.

“I would do anything to see you happy, you know that,” the lady whispered, kissing you again, brushing your hair out of your face.

“I know,” you whispered confused, thinking about what you really wanted to tell her. “Good night, Donna,” you said romantically, kissing her for the last time and turning off the light.

You weren't able to sleep, because your mother's offer was still in your head. Maybe, just maybe, it would be a good idea to try to get Donna to meet your family, although you knew it was a bit complicated.

“Um, Donna…” you said after a few minutes, turning the light back on and making the lady grunt.

“Cosa…?”

“I have to ask you another favor,” you said sitting on the bed, playing with your hands. “I would like you to come with me.”

“Dove?” she asked, rubbing her eye, with a hoarse voice.

“To my house, to my parents' house,” you said cautiously.

 “No,” Donna said dryly, with a suddenly cold expression.

“I was expecting that answer…” you whispered to yourself. “Come on, darling, it could be a perfect occasion to prove they’re wrong, for them to get to know you.”

“I don't want them to know me, I don't need them to know me, (Y/N), no,” she repeated again, crossing her arms with childish arrogance.

“But I do,” you sighed, bringing your hands together. “Donna, please, it would be very important for me.”

“I'm sorry, no,” the brunette insisted, making you growl.

“I thought my parents were stubborn…” you murmured, squeezing your eyes with your fingers. “It's not a trap, I promise, I just want my parents to see how you really are, that you love and care for me.”

“I know I love you, you know I love you. That's enough,” she said, looking away with a sharp gesture.

“Ugh, Donna,” you said, crossing your arms with another groan. “Come on, my nephews are going, I'm sure they'll...”

“Nephews?” a shrill voice burst into the bedroom.

The Angie doll appeared, comically walking and climbing the bed while you both followed her with your eyes.

“Hey, were you spying?” you asked as the doll climbed towards her owner. “You shouldn't listen to other people's conversations.”

“I wasn't spying, silly, silly, you just talk too loud,” Angie said, with her hands on her hips.

“Oh,” you said blinking with a cocky smile. “Since when do you dedicate yourself to listening behind the door? Do you always do it?”

“Unfortunately,” the puppet murmured, letting herself fall between you two. “Let's see, let's see, have I heard anything about some nephews?”

“My nephews, next week I'll eat with my parents and them,” you explained, having no reason to lie to the rebellious and shameless counterpart of the doll maker.

“Oh, oh, are they children?” Angie asked, getting too close to you.

“Yes, they are 7 and 8 years old,” you said amused.

“Oh, interesting...”

You definitely couldn't waste that unique opportunity.

“Do you like children, Angie?” you asked curiously, while the lady stared at her, also annoyed with her unwanted intrusion.

“Of course I like children. They are the only ones who want to play with me, not like you, boring, clingy fools,” the doll said, pointing at you mockingly.

“You would like to play with them, wouldn't you?” you asked in a sweet tone, making the brunette turn her head towards you abruptly, knowing, surely, what you intended.

“Yes, yes, yes,” the doll said, excited.

“It's a shame,” you sighed, pretending sadness. “I've told Donna to come with me, but she doesn't want to.”

“Why? Silly Donna…” Angie said, growling comically at her owner, now harassing her.

-Angie, don't get involved in our affairs –the lady hissed, pushing her away from her body. –I said no, and that's no.

“You say you'd do anything to make me happy…” you said in a low tone, a little sadder, bordering on disappointment. “This would make me very happy.”

“(Y/N), I wouldn't…” Donna said, shaking her head.

“Silly Donna, listen to the other silly, it would make her very happy…” Angie sang, tilting her head in an impossible way.

“I said no! Cazzo!” the lady shrieked, making the doll flee to your lap, scared by the irrational anger of her owner.

“Leave it be Angie,” you said, sad, disappointed. “It's not worth it.”

“You stupid, stubborn spaghetti,” the doll accused, pulling even harder on her patience. “You're going to make the fool cry.”

“All you want is to scare those children,” Donna said, with a stern but somewhat calmer tone.

“No, I want to play, (Y/N) wants you to go with her and you want to make her happy, what's the problem? Are you afraid that people will stop thinking that you are a monster without feelings?” the puppet mocked without fearing the wrath of its owner.

Donna didn't say anything, she just sighed, running a hand through her hair and glancing at you out of the corner of her eye, watching how you curled up in bed, turning your back on her, suppressing a sob.

Your family was important to you, Donna was important to you. You couldn't, you simply couldn't choose between the two things, you couldn't stand it anymore.

“(Y/N), I'm sorry I yelled,” the brunette apologized, putting a hand on your shoulder to turn you around.

“Donna, you know how important my family is to me,” you sighed, wiping a tear that ran down your cheek. “I can't stand the idea of ​​them thinking you're a danger, of them thinking you don't love me, because it's not true. But don't worry, just keep on with your dolls and your stupid isolation, I'll figure out how to continue without your help.”

“Cavolo…” the doll maker growled, crossing her arms and looking at the Angie doll, who looked at her expectantly.

“You made her cry, Donna, you fool,” Angie hissed. “Fix it.”

“I…” the lady murmured, thinking carefully about her words. “Okay, I'll do it. I'll do it for you, (Y/N). I would die without thinking that I wouldn't be able to do anything for you.”

Finally the lady accepted the offer, and you couldn't be happier, but as the date of the meeting approached, nerves mercilessly invaded your entire body. You knew that Donna was nice; you knew that she had sacrificed her comfort zone for you, but you weren't sure if your parents would change their minds. You hoped so.

As expected, your parents' faces paled when they saw the woman with the veil. Your father remained cold, your mother trembled, but you tried to ignore those dangerous signs.

“Well, I guess you already know Donna,” you said nervously, watching the children hide because of that imposing presence. “Look, honey, this is my mother, Svetlana,” you said, guiding the brunette towards the frightened woman, who bowed her head in respect.

“It's an honor, Lady Beneviento,” she said in a helpful tone, without looking at the lady, who nodded slowly, without showing any emotion.

“Um, and this... this is Marcus, my father,” you said a little more nervously, pointing at your father, who looked at Donna with distrust, giving her a reluctant greeting.

“Grandma, what is that?” Niko, your nephew asked tugging at your mother's dress and pointing shamelessly at Angie, who pointed at herself.

“That? That?” the doll asked, breaking free from her owner's grip. “I'm not that, my little friend, I'm the fabulous, the unique, the fantastic Angie.”

Both children backed away as the doll approached.

“Hey, leave them alone,” your father said, protecting your nephews, making clumsy gestures towards Angie.

“No, no, it's not okay, she won't hurt them,” you said, grabbing your father's arm, who growled as he watched the doll chase your nephews.

“Oh, you little cowards…” Angie crooned. “Very well, then I won't show you my magic tricks.”

“Magic?” your niece asked, peeking timidly.

“Yes, magic,” the doll said, nodding proudly. “Tell me, have you ever seen a doll that does this?” she shouted amused, twisting her head comically, instantly gaining the attention of the children.

“Wow…” they sighed at the same time, dazzled by Angie's charisma.

“What else can you do?” Niko asked, shyly approaching the doll.

“Mm, I'm the world champion of hide and seek, you scumbags,” the doll commented, before your attentive gaze.

“That's a lie, I'm better,” Olga said, protesting amused.

“Dear…we'll have to prove it…”

Surprisingly, the children didn't take long to gain confidence with Angie, and with Donna, as she timidly handed them the gifts she had made. Of course, that woman in black, veiled and silent, scared them, but they soon lost fear when they saw their new toys, jumping for joy and thanking your girlfriend effusively.

Your parents barely spoke. They limited themselves to watching your nephews when they dared to approach Donna to give her a tender hug for their gifts. The children were wonderful, they were immune to rumors. They soon felt totally comfortable with the presence of that mysterious woman.

“What is this?” your father asked, sitting at the table while the children had fun with the doll and their new toys.

“It's lasagna, dad, Donna made it,” you said, serving him a portion of the dish that the lady had prepared.

“Lasagna,” your mother murmured, observing the plate with curiosity.

You nodded, glancing at the lady in black, who, to no one's surprise, didn't say a single word, just nodded slightly, remaining silent, which increased the tension of the meal even more.

“Mm, how do I know it's not poisoned?” your father asked, dipping his cutlery into the plate, distrustful.

“Dad,” you protested at his rudeness. “You just... eat and shut up.”

“Marcus, please...” your mother said, trying to save the situation.

It was a silent, tense, heavy lunch. The glances flew like constant knives between you.

“It's delicious, Lady Beneviento,” your mother said with a fake smile, making the lady look at her and nod reluctantly. “It looks like complicated to make.”

“Oh, not at all,” you said with a smile. “Donna is an excellent cook,” you commented. “Isn't that right, darling?”

The lady didn't move, she continued eating in silence, moving her veil a bit aside.

“Does she never take that thing off?” your father asked in an unpleasant tone, finishing his meal, which he seemed to have liked. “Hey, I'm talking to you.”

“Marcus, please,” your mother said, terribly scared by the way her husband addressed the Lord. “Show some respect.”

“Respect? Svetlana, that woman has taken our daughter,” your father growled, hitting the table with his fist, drawing the attention of everyone present. “You may be very powerful, Beneviento, but you're in my territory now.”

“Dad,” you said, scared by his attitude as the lady in black slowly raised her gaze, dropping her cutlery. “Don't talk to her like that.”

“Don't talk to her like that?” the man said, pointing at the lady with a fork. “What's wrong with you? Can't you talk?”

“Leave her alone,” you insisted, terribly nervous. “She doesn't talk to strangers.”

“Oh, um... the tomato sauce is homemade, right?” your mother asked, trying by all means to divert the conversation.

Donna looked at her and nodded slowly, but unable to suppress the trembling of her hands.

“You like my daughter, you like her body, how beautiful she is...” your father murmured, crossing his arms, with a look of absolute contempt. “You the Lords think you can do whatever you want why anyone, don't you? Even with an innocent girl.”

“Dad!” you shouted on the verge of a heart attack, and tears.

“Enough, Marcus,” your mother demanded, also hitting the table. “Lady Beneviento, I beg your forgiveness for my husband's attitude, it's just that…”

“Excuse me? She should be asking me for forgiveness. He sleeps with our daughter, Svetlana,” your father said, dragging his words. “What do you think will happen when she gets tired of her?”

“Can't you stop acting like an orangutan?” you said nervously. “She hasn't done anything for you to treat her like that.”

“She hasn't done anything,” your father said, with a mocking smile. “Come on, Beneviento, defend yourself, tell me I'm lying, say something, damn it, do you even know how to talk? Or do you only know how to screw up the life of a girl like (Y/N)?”

Donna reacted, abruptly getting up from the table, looking at your father, without saying anything, but clenching her fists, repressing her rage.

“No, no, no, Donna, honey, calm down,” you said nervously, grabbing the brunette by the shoulders. “Shh, calm down…”

“Stop it!” your mother shouted, standing up too. “Marcus, apologize! You're being unfair to her. We don't know what can happen to us if…”

“Mom!” you shrieked, not accepting the cautious attitude of the woman, who seemed to fear her, she was terribly afraid of Donna. “I'm starting to realize that it was a mistake to come here,” you hissed, throwing the napkin on the table and shaking your head.

“That woman is the mistake,” your father growled, making Donna turn around again, with a furious gasp.

“Let's go, Donna,” you said, taking the brunette by the arm and walking towards the exit.

“Hey! Are we leaving?” Angie protested, still playing with the children. “I want to stay a little longer.”

“Vai, Angie!” Donna squealed making the children back off with the first words the lady said.

The doll said goodbye to the children happily and walked next to you.

“Wait, (Y/N), you should stay,” Donna said, already outside the house.

“No, I'm not going to stay after what they did to you,” you said frowning. “Donna, I'm so sorry…”

“I'm used to this, tesoro… don't worry about me, stay with your family, I need to go home, I have to… relax…” the lady said, lifting your chin, giving you a quick kiss through her veil, walking away without letting you protest any further.

“Donna…” you said with a sob, letting your shoulders fall as your girlfriend walked away from you with a quick step. “Shit, shit…”

You stormed back into your house, slamming the door shut, scaring the kids even more.

“Are you happy?” you asked nervously, on the verge of tears. “Look what you’ve achieved!”

“That crazy bitch has left my house, I’m satisfied,” your father said in a cocky tone. “It’s over, (Y/N), she’s never coming back to that house again, do you hear me?”

“You haven’t even given her a chance!” you shouted, ignoring those banal threats. “You’re… Ugh!”

“Please, calm down, both of you,” your mother said, standing between the two of you before the shouting could escalate. “Marcus, you should be ashamed.”

“I don’t regret anything, Svetlana, I won’t tolerate that disgusting monster continuing to grope my daughter,” your father said, approaching threateningly.

“You’re a disgusting monster,” you muttered in childish rage.

“For Gods’ sake, that's enough,” your mother pleaded. “Please, let's talk things over, Marcus.”

“Leave me alone,” your father said, walking out the door, angry and furious.

You, silent, stunned just like your nephews, let yourself be seated on a chair, putting a hand on your forehead.

“Damn it...” you whispered, being comforted by the two children, who sat next to you and rubbed your back.

“I like her, I like your girlfriend, Aunt (Y/N),” Olga said, touching her new doll. “Grandpa has been mean to her.”

“Yes, Angie is great too, she hasn't tired of playing with us,” her brother said, excited about his racing car. “Do you think we can play with her again?”

“I don't know, Niko,” you sighed, letting yourself be carried away by the innocence of children, crying subtly.

“Children, go to your room,” your mother said with a serious gesture, pointing to a door.

The children nodded and obeyed with a sad look.

“I can't believe it, mom,” you whispered after a few seconds of silence.  “Was it so hard for you to behave like normal people for once?”

“Honey...” your mother sighed, coming a little closer. “You have to understand that for us it is a very complicated situation.”

“Complicated? Dad has been insulting Donna all the time for no reason,” you said angrily, arching your eyebrows. “And you did nothing but grovel before her because she terrifies you. If your plan is to ruin our relationship, you are on the right track.”

“(Y/N)…” your mother sighed. “We care about you.”

“Cut the crap, mom, you haven't even given her the chance to prove that she is nice, that she takes care of me and…” you said, suddenly feeling terrible dizziness and intense chills.

“Are you okay?” your mother asked, scared by your immediate paleness. “Honey, what's wrong?”

“I-I don't know… I…” you said with a sudden tiredness, a terrible one along with a stabbing pain in your joints. “I…”

You couldn't say anything else, because everything went black.

“Stop talking nonsense, Marcus,” you heard your mother say when you were able to open your eyes.

Your whole body was weak, burning, you could barely move. You were tucked into your old bed and your father, nervous, paced from one side of the house to the other.

“I'm telling you that it's all that monster's fault, she must have poisoned her,” the man said, nervous, furious.

The darkness that could be seen through the window told you that it was already night, you don't know how long you had been unconscious.

“Mom…” you whispered with a weak voice, putting an end to those horrible insinuations. “What…? What happened to me?”

“Oh, (Y/N), you're awake,” she said, taking your burning hand. “Gosh, you have a high fever, you fainted.”

“Damn it…” you complained, realizing that Donna was right, you still hadn't recovered from the flu. “I-I have to…”

Before you could continue, the door sounded with a thunderous bang, causing your father to be on alert, grabbing a nearby shotgun.

“Marcus, what's wrong?” your mother asked, also scared.

“Stay here,” he said, approaching the door and taking a quick look. “You… Go away!”

“D-Donna…” you murmured when you saw the lady in black behind the door, making an impulse to move, which your mother stopped. “Donna…”

“Didn't you hear me? We don't want you here. Get out or... or...!” your father shrieked, closing the door in her face.

“Dad... no,” you complained, reaching out your hand towards the open door of your room. “Donna...”

With a kick that could be comical, the lady in black didn’t accept the answer, opening the door abruptly, making your father step back and point the shotgun at her.

“D-Don't move...” the man said, trembling as Donna approached, grabbing the barrel of the gun and bending it without difficulty. “No, don't hurt me,” he said cowardly afterwards.

The lady ignored him, looking for something with her eye, looking for you. When she found, she didn't waste a second in running to your side, almost throwing herself onto the bed.

“(Y/N), tesoro,” she gasped nervously as your mother cautiously moved away. “Amore mio, what's happening? You didn't come home and…”

“She has a high fever,” your mother said dryly while your girlfriend checked it, caressing your forehead. “She has fainted.”

“What?” Donna asked. “Oddio… you're burning up…” she whispered.

“Wow, you sure know how to talk,” your father said, crossing his arms behind the door frame. “What have you done to my daughter, you psychopath?”

“Dad…” you moaned desperately at Marcus's inflexible attitude.

“We don't know what to do, my lady, the doctor is not in the village and we don't have money for…” your mother said, clasping her hands, with a look, not of terror, but of pity, of fear that something would happen to you.

“Telefono” the lady hissed, glancing at your mother through that dark veil.

Your mother shook her head, unable to understand her words, nervous, and now, frightened.

“Telefono! Porca puttana! A telephone!” the Lord demanded, causing the woman to instinctively protect herself, nodding and pointing to the required device.

Donna stepped aside, hitting your mother on the shoulder as she walked, dialing a number, the only possible one, the Duke’s.

Soon the merchant arrived with the medicines, but they would take a while to take effect. Your longed-for return home would have to wait a bit, but luckily, Donna and your mother took care of you in the meantime.

Tiredness made you fall asleep, with your hand held by the lady in black, who didn’t move from your side while she caressed you. At one point you woke up, but you decided not to open your eyes, you were very tired, weak.

“Excuse me, my lady,” your mother's voice interrupted that quiet moment, along with her footsteps on the old wood. “It's a very cold night, you could use some tea.”

“Grazie,” Donna whispered, nodding gratefully, or so you saw with your half-open eyes.

“(Y/N) sister's room is free, the children are gone... if you want you can rest,” the woman said, lowering her head and passing a hand over your forehead.

“No,” the lady said, coldly, turning her head back to you.

Your mother nodded, sitting down in another chair and letting a tense atmosphere of silence cover you completely. Your eyes danced with the temptation to close completely again, but you were alert, you had to be.

“(Y/N) is right, you are a woman of few words,” your mother said after a few minutes that seemed eternal.

Donna turned slowly to look at her, but only briefly.

“I-I don't mean it's a bad thing, it's wise to be cautious with words,” she said again in the absence of a verbal response from the hierarch, who sighed annoyed by the situation. “I-I've prepared some hot soup for when (Y/N) recovers, perhaps you would like some.”

“No,” Donna repeated, with a dark hiss, almost begging for your mother to leave you alone.

Your mother lowered her head, nodding slowly, obeying in a submissive way.

“My lady, I beg your pardon for our behavior. My husband and I are very sorry,” Svetlana said, forcing you to stop pretending and intervene.

“Come on,” you said, groaning and opening your eyes, hurt, but completely conscious.

“(Y/N)…” Donna sighed, caressing your cheek. “Don't get up, per favore,” she whispered to you in a tender voice, laying you back down on the bed.

“Mom, who are you trying to fool? Dad has pointed a damn shotgun at my girlfriend,” you protested, fighting against the lady's attempts to cover you well with the sheets.

“Shh, taci, amore mio,” Donna said in a sweet voice, not caring that a villager like your mother heard her. “It doesn't matter. The only thing that matters to me is that you recover so we can go home.”

“Home…” you gasped, giving in and letting her take care of you in bed. “For a moment I thought I had dreamed it all, that you weren't here.”

“Of course I'm here, tesoro,” your girlfriend said, getting a little closer while you reached out your hand clumsily, brushing the veil.

“I ​​hate seeing you with that on,” you commented amused, making a shy laugh come out of her black veil as well.

“Shh, don't talk, (Y/N),” Donna whispered, caressing your cheek and checking that your clumsy caresses hadn't uncovered her face. “You've already taken the medicine, now you have to rest so that the fever goes down completely.”

“Mm…” you murmured, glancing sideways at your mother. “Mom…”

“Hi honey… I'm here,” the woman said, bringing her hand closer to yours. “Thank Gods you feel better…”

“Your mother has prepared a soup for you, I think you should have some,” Donna said, with an irresistible voice that would melt any metal.

“My lady, would you be so kind as to take care of…?” your mother asked with a trembling voice, bringing the plate closer to the lady in black, who took it without hesitation, nodding. “I better… leave you two alone…” she said after, making a ridiculous bow and leaving the room.

“Are you comfortable?” Donna asked, helping you to sit up and bringing you a spoonful. “It smells very good.”

“My mother cooks well, although not as well as you,” you joked a little, letting the soup soothe your throat. “I'm convinced that she's dying to ask you for the lasagna recipe.”

“Mm,” she murmured, helping you to eat. “She's dying for me to disappear from your life, (Y/N).”

“Donna…” you sighed with a sad voice. “You don't know how sorry I am.”

“I've already told you that it doesn't matter,” she answered, cleaning you lovingly with a napkin. “The prejudices in this village are strong, it's not their fault.”

“No, my love,” you corrected, with tears in your eyes. “I'm so sorry I asked you to come. I should have known it was a bad idea.”

“Don't apologize. I know how important your family is to you. It hurts me to say it, but Angie was right. Just because it was a mistake doesn't mean it wasn't the right thing to do, (Y/N)” she said, while continuing to take care of you.

“You always do the right thing, don't you?” she asked, letting you fall back onto the mattress, pleasantly warmed by that soup. “Donna, it makes me so helpless that people don't know what you're really like…”

“I'm not a good person, (Y/N), I've done horrible things, I've killed, I've spread terror with my siblings. I don't deserve for you to try to make others see me the same way you do,” Donna said, settling you down again.

“But it's just that…” you sighed, taking her hand, squeezing it with all the strength you had. “I see you, Donna, and I see you are not that horrible person you think you are. I see you as you really are, your way of loving… I see the person you want to be, what you are when you are with me and…”

“You left (Y/N) alone, with her!” your father's screams interrupted that romantic moment, bouncing off the walls.

“Marcus, please! You've caused enough trouble!” your mother shouted, making you both look at each other in silence, listening. “Do you know how much that medicine cost? We could never have afforded it.”

“Svetlana, I can't believe you're so impressed with a Lord’s money,” Marcus growled. “She wants the girl alive, she needs her alive…”

“Stop talking nonsense and behave like what you are!” your mother responded, catching your attention even more. “You're her father, Marcus. Her happiness is what should matter to you, not nonsense about monstrous Lords.”

“She's a monster!” he shrieked, making Donna move, squeezing your hand as she trembled from the pain of those words. “She's…!”

“Sometimes you are unbearable, Marcus, she is your daughter's girlfriend, and you better go in there and apologize to Lady Beneviento, and thank her for taking care of your daughter like we were never able to do,” your mother demanded, making you smile.

“But...”

“Do it! Or we will lose our daughter forever. Open your eyes, dear. You have seen that this woman is not as the rumors say. Fix things, Marcus, or your daughter won’t be the only thing you lose tonight,” your mother threatened, leaving behind her words an uncomfortable halo of silence.

Donna lowered her gaze, shaking her head softly at hearing those insults, those words that were only based on opinions, unfounded or not, about a completely different woman, about a Donna Beneviento who didn’t know what love was.

A few seconds later, the door opened and your father entered the room, head down, scratching the back of his neck. Donna, startled, stood up from her chair, ready to fight your father's ignorance again.

“Lady Beneviento,” your father whispered, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, relieved to see you awake. “I have one question, just one, and I demand…I want you to answer me.”

The lady nodded slowly, keeping her composure.

“Do you love my daughter? Do you really love (Y/N)? Will you take care of her?” the man asked, to which you rolled your eyes.

“Hey, that's a lot of questions,” you interrupted.

“(Y/N)…” your mother sighed, gesturing for you to remain silent.

“I do,” Donna answered, dryly, but self-assured.

Your father sighed, glancing at your mother out of the corner of his eye and taking a breath, slowly extending his hand towards the brunette, with a look of distrust.

“(Y/N) loves you, and it seems that you have managed to convince my wife, but be clear about one thing, Beneviento, it will take me a while to trust you. But I may change my mind if you give me, right now, your word,” your father said, challenging Donna with his gaze, who was surely doing the same.

The brunette didn’t hesitate and extended her hand towards his, shaking it silently, slowly moving it away and maintaining that defiant look that you knew wasn’t threatening at all.

“Good,” he said, nodding satisfied. “I hope your status as a Lord will serve to keep my girl away from all the evils of this village. My home is your home, my lady.”

“Dad, you are great,” you said amused. “Hey, Donna, he did the best he could, really.”

The lady looked at you and nodded, sitting back down in her chair and taking your hand. You breathed easily for the first time.

You knew it was a temporary truce, but Donna would know how to handle it, how to convince your father, without needing any words, that she was the best thing that could happen to you, that she deserved you. Besides, your nephews seemed to take a liking to her, to her and to Angie, as your mother did.

Ahead of you, there was a promising future.

“Tomorrow morning we will return home, okay, my love?”  you whispered, proud of Donna’s composure, of her integrity, of not being able to hurt anyone, your family, even if they thought she was a monster.

“Well, everything is settled,” your mother said, with the same relieved smile. “My lady, if you don't mind, I would like to ask you a few questions about that… lasagna…”

[itspileofgoodthings]

I am sometimes really bitter about the fact that I teach sophomores which is an age at which SO many adolescents are toad-like and then often they leave my class and are better for their subsequent teachers. like. 

[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)

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

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.12 how you get the girl

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)

ᰔ chapter. 12/x (probably 18)

ᰔ words. 11.3k

a/n. man the color scheme for this chapter is kinda giving BRAT lolol...i mean gojo IS brat. anywho, i don't have much to say at the beginning of this chapter but i do have a LOT to say at the end of it sooo see y'all at the bottom!! hope u enjoy. also BIG THANK YOU to @whereflowerswenttodie who beta read parts of this chapter for me n convinced me not to scrap it lol

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1 :: ♬.*ﾟplaylist

11:03am you: hi! 11:03am you: good luck today 11:03am you: incase i don’t see you

11:05am Gojo Satoru: Why wouldn’t you? Aren’t you gonna be on the field for your newsletter shots?

11:07am you: i mean yes but idk where i’m gonna be stationed so 11:07am you: it might not be on UTokyo’s side of the field

11:08am Gojo Satoru: Okay then I’ll look for you before the game starts

11:10am you: no pls don’t. coach yaga thinks i distract you. i don’t want to get yelled at again. he scares me :(

11:12am Gojo Satoru: Haha you’re silly 11:13am Gojo Satoru: East side entrance at 2 11:13am Gojo Satoru: Be there

11:14am you: or be square?

11:15am Gojo Satoru: Yea whatever shape you wanna be in is fine cutie

It’s a bright sunny day outside, perfectly blue sky with a scattering of fluffy clouds seen outside the window of your shared room in your apartment, and you realize spring is fully here from the way birds chirp past the glass. You’re stuffing your camera case full of chilled Kodak film rolls, your last stash left, and it’s the last piece of equipment you pack before slinging the strap over your shoulder and heading out the door.

Mina had offered to give you a ride to the stadium since your car’s still at the shop, but you’re happy you opted for the bumpy bus ride and although you come close to low-grade concussions from the bang of your head to the window at every other speed bump, the music in your ears while someone else is operating a public transport vehicle helps you think creatively before shooting shots.

It was surprise enough that Mina of all people was going to this game, and when you questioned her about it in the morning, she looked at you like you were absurd to assume anyone from UTokyo wouldn’t be at this game, and sure enough, it’s all anyone on Instagram has been repping on their stories or talking about in the bustling minutes before lectures. Even Utahime was going to this game, and she hates all intercollegiate sports. You knew the game was a big deal, given the way Coach Yaga was yelled at via email by the Dean of UTokyo to make sure the team wins today because a multimillion dollar Nike sponsorship would be greenlit by the prospect (for some reason you were cc’d in an email chain among divisional higher-ups, but you weren’t opposed to snooping in on conversations that were entirely outside of your tax bracket).

It’s because it’s the second to last home game before the season ends, and apparently this has been statistically the best season the UTokyo D1 Men’s Soccer team has played since the new millenia. No pressure to the players on that fact, but failure wasn’t much of an option for them anymore. 

And you can feel the stakes the second you step inside the stadium. Packed would be an understatement, there were people flooding the aisles, overbooked for the sake of the university pocketing an extra buck no doubt, but spectators could care less since they were able to at least get in on the basis of that irresponsibility in the first place, despite the stadium’s capacity having long been reached before the pregame festivities even start. Banners and signs drape over railings with the school’s striking blue and golden colors, every single replay screen is lit up and brightly pixelated at every north, south, east, and west entrance for inclusive viewing. As you pass VIP security and make it into the lower field-level entry, the scattered chants from the crowd amplify in volume and you almost wince a little to yourself from the noise. The stadium felt like a living, breathing entity, pulsing with the collective heartbeat of everyone inside. 

You’ve never been more overstimulated in your life, except instead of finding it frightening, it was electrifying. And for once, you think you can understand what an athlete must feel when playing on their own home turf surrounded by those that are wholeheartedly rooting for them.

Hana is quick to spot you, panic clear across her face as she regards you with a couple pages with your assigned vantage points, a rushed briefing session, and then she’s darting down the sidelines to make sure equipment is set up appropriately where needed. She’s understaffed, given you told Utahime about Kai’s little intervention last week and she made a nasty point to the university (and possibly a handful of legal threats) and they relented in firing him. So now the three of you were down a photographer, and the extra work shows in the instructions she gave you as you skim the sheets. 

A glance at your phone tells you it’s close to 2pm, and your eyes take in the expanse of green on the field. UTokyo’s players practice kicking shots off to the right goal post, while YCU’s players practice shots off to the left. You can’t spot where Gojo is, but you faithfully head down to the East Side entrance like he asked you to. 

When you round the corner, you almost crash right into an Ichiko mascot, but swiftly dodge, and then you stop in your tracks when you see Gojo standing right at the concrete entrance. He’s leaning back against the adjacent wall, arms crossed at his chest, and he’s stretching his neck side to side with a creased brow, an intense look in his eyes, lost in serious thought, scanning the wall across from him like he’s mapping out plays in his head. 

When you approach him and catch the corner of his eyesight, he leans off the wall and flashes you one of his so extremely charmed to see you grins on reflex, and suddenly there’s nothing your senses seem to pick up on except him. Like everything else around you just disappears.

“Hey, you,” he says when he comes up to you, and you walk him like a dog back to a corner that’s tucked further away from noises and sights. You lean your back against the wall now, the coolness of concrete seeping through the fabric of your shirt, and he stands a step in front of you. Your hands toy with the strap of your camera.

“Are you ready to win today?” you ask him, and look off to the right into the flourishing seats that are still being filled to the brim, “clearly there’s no pressure.”

He breathes in deep, and releases it slowly, like there really was tension to relieve. “We’ve got no choice but to win.”

“Is that something Coach Yaga says to you guys often?” you ask him, because the man recited the same thing about five times in that email chain. “Also, apparently you take years off of his life.” Another thing he recited about five times in that email chain.

Gojo only addresses what he wants to address, as per usual. “Yeah, it’s something he says to us often.” 

“So,” you say, “what did you want to talk about?”

He looks at you puzzled, tilting his head to the side. “Nothing. I just wanted to see you.”

It’s hard to assume that he didn’t have something to talk about with the intention of telling you to meet him here, because this is the same place you confessed to him a few weeks ago, and so is also the place he so painfully rejected you. But maybe he doesn’t think about these kinds of things as much as you do. “I see.”

His tongue pokes to his cheek as he studies your anticipating expression, and then he sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly. “What are we doing? I mean, I like you, and you like me too, at least I hope you still do. Why don’t we—…why don’t we just give it a go already? I don’t see how we can move forward if you won’t at least let me take you out on a date.”

Your hands stop fidgeting with your camera strap from his words, and you lick your lips, suddenly unable to keep eye contact with him so your gaze drifts down to his chest in front of you. His uniform is clean, no smudges of dirt or grass, just pure white fabric underneath heat-pressed blue and golden accents, and of course, that signature number 10. You’re sure he’s all you’ll ever think of when you see that number now for the rest of your life. 

You know when you want something so bad you don’t know what to do once you have it? Because it almost seems too good to be true? 

“I just wanted to let stuff between us breathe for a little bit,” you confess, “it’s just, it was a lot to deal with. Being around you when I thought you didn’t want me the way I wanted you. I don’t know if this is odd to say, and maybe I’m overthinking it, but I just feel like somewhere along the way, I kind of…forgot who you were for a little bit.” This kind of vulnerability would have you running away with your tail between your legs with anyone else, but not with him. Not after everything. 

His expression softens, melting away that confrontational energy he had earlier, and he nods slowly. He opens his mouth to speak, but he can’t seem to find words. The presence of them is there, though, you can feel them. But what good are his thoughts if not voiced? 

“I just wanted to spend a little bit of time getting to know you again, I guess.” You squeeze your arm in reassurance of yourself because he wasn’t giving it to you. You let out an awkward laugh. “I don’t really know what I’m saying right now, to be honest.”

You can tell he’s at a crossroads, and you think back to this week and his efforts to get you to open up to him again. You know how he feels right now, because it’s exactly how you felt when he rejected you. Like when someone is so close, yet so far, you can feel that they’re within arms reach but never truly. And they’re slipping away for some reason that you may never know, but all you can do is assume that it’s a fault of your own. You’re not really sure what he can do to make you feel secure about this whole thing anymore, and you can see the slight panic in his eyes when he realizes that too.

“I don’t mind waiting,” he tells you, rushed with a desperation entirely contrary to his words, “what’s a week or two when I want to spend a lot more of those with you anyways.” But he takes a deep breath, like he’s already mentally preparing himself for an agonizing wait in his head.

There’s a sound over the stadium speakers, something technical and sporty and goes entirely over your head in dismissal, but to Gojo it seems to have a different effect, as he’s suddenly attentive and stands up straighter, that focused expression on his face from earlier resurfacing. You realize he needs to get back to the field. 

“Can we continue this conversation after the game?” he asks you hastily, already turning towards the center of the stadium. And he adds an obligatory, “sorry.”

“Yeah, sure,” you quickly agree, suddenly feeling like you’re taking up his time. 

He gives you a small smile, unsure in its presentation but pure in its intention. But he can only take one step towards the field before you reach out and pinch the fabric of his jersey to keep him still. He feels the tug of it and fully faces you once again. 

“Um. Just a sec,” you say, “I have something to give you before your game.”

“Oh?” he looks at you with interest, “I fucking love things.” 

“You have to close your eyes though.”

“…what is the thing…” He squints at you with a what are you up to expression.

“Just close your eyes!” you snap at him.

“Okay, okay, jeez,” he holds his hands up in front of him in surrender, shaking his head to get his hair out of his face and then he closes his eyes. “You’re scary as hell sometimes. Excuse me for being cautious.”

You roll your eyes, useless because he doesn’t see it, and then take a step towards him. You cup his jaw with the palm of your hand, his cheek twitching slightly from the unexpected contact, and then you raise on your tiptoes to press your lips to his cheek. It’s short and sweet with the sound of a peck.

“For good luck,” you whisper, then you quickly lower yourself back onto your heels, take a step back and tuck some strands of hair behind your ear. The ground suddenly interests you.

He opens his eyes, blinking a few times with shock and his hand comes up to brush the tips of his fingers against the spot you kissed him, and then his gaze goes comically dazed when he reaches out to hold you. “Alright, c’mere you,” he says, closing his eyes and puckering his lips as he leans down to kiss you but you laugh and push his face away.

“No no no, only on the cheek for now,” you say with a small laugh.

He does nothing to restrain his frustrated groan. “You can’t do something that cute and then expect me to be chill about it.”

“If you win, then, maybe I’ll let you kiss me for real.”

“Maybe?”

“Yes. Maybe.”

He’s close, towering over you near this bustling east side entrance that he seems to like so much, and his eyes drop to your lips. “Alright. I like those odds.” 

You give him a smile and slip away from him to get back towards the field, and you feel his eyes on you as you walk away.

The pregame events are a blur, with blaring music accompanied by the sounds of the sports announcers clipping across the speakers, finally quieted down in time for the players to line up on the field for the national anthem which was then followed by UTokyo’s alma mater. 

You’re stationed on the same side of the field as Minato, UTokyo’s side, while Hana is covering the sidelines of the opposite end with the opponents goal post. Minato’s filling up a cup of Gatorade for himself at the athlete’s station and then he comes back around to find you.

“Are you ready to take your shots? I see Hana wanted you to shoot on film today,” he says to you as he sloshes around Glacier Freeze in a flimsy plastic cup.

You twist your aperture dial with your thumb. “Yesss, all set. I’ll try to keep up.” 

He nods at you in approval.

The atmosphere feels nerve wracking. Something felt different about this game, the stakes feeling high. Well, of course they’re high, because if they lose today then they’re out of the tournament. But the stakes feel high for other reasons too, an energy you can pick up on but can’t quite discern. 

Your eyes drift across the field where you can see a referee placing a ball at the center of the field. Off to the right, you can see Gojo standing with a few of his other teammates, including Geto, Nanami, and Choso, and they’re all gesticulating to various corners of the field as they discuss what you can only imagine have to do with their plays for today. And you realize— it’s their last college soccer season. Their second-to-last official home match before the championship, and for those of them that haven’t qualified for the national league, it may be their second-to-last match of this caliber for the rest of their lives. One of the final chances that they have to prove something of themselves. The determination was palpable. 

The chief referee’s whistle cuts through the air with three short chirps, and that gathers the attention of all the players on the field. UTokyo wins the coin toss, choosing to kickoff, and YCU’s players choose to attack the left side goal.

Your stomach churns with anticipation, the crowd hushing too as all the players take their places on the field. If you feel nervous, you can only imagine how the athletes feel. There’s a rhythm that you’ve learned over the past couple of months getting to know the sport, where players stretch out their necks and kick out their feet and take subtle deep breaths as they survey the stands. Idle moments before the start of the match where they have no choice but to look forward and only forward, so they take a moment to stay in the present for as long as they can gather. You’ve never been much of a sports spectator, and perhaps you’ve only recently had some personal interest in the team, but you realize you feel pride in your school as you stand behind chalk sideline and see UTokyo’s colors scattered across the field in uniform. And fuck, you wanted them to win. You wanted them to win with fierceness and wrath, and it’s a desire you share with the crowd. 

Gojo spends a minute talking to the referee before the black and white striped man pats him high on the back in the good sport and urges him towards the center of the field. He lifts his foot up onto the ball, rolling it back and forth underneath the spikes of his cleat, and you can see it in his eyes, even from all the way over here, that he seems to have different ideas in mind for this game too. High stakes. Pre-determined, set with will, evident in the clench of his jaw and the concentrated furrow of his brow as he surveys the field with his eyes, and you’re lost in the sight for what feels like forever because you can hardly register the chirp of the ref’s whistle. 

And then the kickoff starts. 

The ball is tapped to Geto to start the play, and the first few minutes were intense as the ball was passed back and forth between UTokyo’s players, placing pressure on YCU’s defense as they inched closer and closer towards the goal. A pass between UTokyo’s #4 was intercepted by YCU and the ball was rushed down towards the left side, the crowd’s horror evident in the uproar as they raise to their feet in fearful anticipation, and with ruthless offense, YCU’s forward takes a clear sink shot towards the goal, and the crowd holds their breath before they watch Choso lunge for it in air, gloved hands firmly grabbing the ball and then pulling it to his chest with a possessiveness you can only expect to see from a skilled goalie, before he crashes down into the ground and the crowd releases relief in the form of rowdy roars.

Ten minutes in, with everyone on their toes, each team tested each other’s defenses. UTokyo were known for stellar offense, especially within the past few years with players like Gojo Satoru and Takuma Ino joining the league as powerful forwards, but UTokyo’s overall offense was still statistically second to none other than YCU. And the pressure YCU was putting on UTokyo’s defense was wearisome to say the least. You glance to see Nanami, who is UTokyo’s best defensive player, huffing and puffing as he stands between two light-footed YCU players in an attempt to guard, and fails an attempt to steal the ball before it gets to the feet of YCU’s striker #6, passed in a split second off to his teammate, with a fake so seamless that it has Choso just a couple inches away from touching the ball before it’s sent flying into the net. 

The noises from the crowd are still loud, but dampened in spirit. 

With the referees hand signal up in the air, the current score is confirmed. 0-1, YCU. 

Coach Yaga calls for a sub, in which he switches Nanami out for who you believe is a 2nd-year defensive player name Yuta you’ve seen around practice with a promising statistical record for interceptions, and you watch as Nanami takes the bench before he swipes the sweat off his face in exhaustion. God. Just fifteen minutes into the match, and YCU already has UTokyo’s defense winded from play. 

You bring your camera up to your face, forgetting for a moment that there was still a job to do here, and you position the direction of the lens towards the center of the field, where Gojo takes his place at the ball once more. Yuta briefly passes by him, signaling some play to him by holding up a number three, likely something Coach Yaga asked him to pass on to Gojo, and you see him briefly nod, his mouth slightly agape as he breathes slowly and pulls his jersey up to wipe at the sweat at his forehead. 

The referee chirps the whistle, Gojo taps the ball to Yuta, and the play starts. 

YCU immediately puts pressure on UTokyo’s offensive play once more, with eager movements to steal the ball, but it’s passed between UTokyo’s players with ease, more practiced and more sure. The kind of play that you and the rest of the school was used to seeing from them. However, Geto loses the ball on a left-back pass, but right when YCU makes attempts to cover field in a long-shot kick towards the left, Yuta intercepts the ball and swiftly passes it to Gojo.

The crowd immediately rises to their feet in anticipation, watching as Gojo shuffles the ball down the field, dangerously close to off-field boundaries, a signature tactic he uses because he knows there’s not a single player in the league that can match him in precision and control to keep the ball in-field on a steal, and he swiftly passes it towards Geto with a side-swept kick, beelining down towards the goal post, in perfect time for Geto pass-back to meet his feet and when Gojo was this close to a net, there was no stopping him. 

He draws his right foot back, and explosively kicks the ball forward, chipping the grass under it in the motion, and it’s sent flying towards the goal, and then threaded past the goalie right to the back of the net. The cheers that erupt across the stadium rumble the ground beneath you. 

1-1, even match.

UTokyo spends no time celebrating, other than a few pats to Gojo’s back as he nods in acknowledgement, no emotion on his face other than pure concentration and greed. The greed to win, like a righteous sin. He stretches his neck out, panting slightly as he takes his place towards the right side of the field and the referee chirps his whistle to signal YCU to start the kickoff.

They quickly make attempts in moving the ball towards their scoring-end of the field, but face push-back from UTokyo’s defense, unable to make it much further past the midfield line, and you bring your camera up to take a snap of Gojo, who you see is still standing off to the right side of the field. But when you position it and peer through the viewfinder, that space he once stood at was empty. You pull your camera down, and blink at the sight, and then the crowd is picking up in volume once more.

Gojo sprints down the flank, cutting past every defender, and moves towards YCU’s attacking goal, which was a shocking place to be for a center forward, but you could feel his desire and determination to steal this back-and-forth ball, and succeeds when YCU makes an open pass, thinking they were in the clear, only to have Gojo sneak in at the last moment and get the ball at his feet. 

The play moves by in a flash, a blur that you or anyone else in the stadium could hardly keep up with it, movements so fast you were shocked a human being was capable of even running that far in such a short amount of time, and in an almost embarrassingly easy play, Gojo makes a fool out of YCU’s defenders as he slips the ball through the legs of his last obstacle before he struck it with sharp precision, sending it soaring to the corner of the goal, past the outstretched arms of the goalie, and into the net. 

2-1, UTokyo.

It was electrifying, the feeling that strikes through the stadium, one that reaches you in your own blood. You’re shocked, standing here, after witnessing Gojo score two goals within the matter of minutes, against one of the top three teams in the league. It’s a shock that reaches everyone, including Coach Yaga who’s standing about ten feet down the line from you, his arms crossed, and you see his eyes for the first time as he takes his sunglasses off to get a better look at what he’s seeing.

You trail his sight, dragging your gaze across the field until it lands at Gojo, who is barely acknowledging the encouraging pats and shakes and goodhearted shoves that his teammates were giving him, because he was focused. It might sound crazy to say, but you swear his eyes looked like a fiercer shade of blue, like they were lit up, and you’re insanely glad you’re not one of YCU’s defensive players at the moment because you feel fearful of him even just standing on the sidelines. 

Your gaze trails back to Coach Yaga, who slowly puts his sunglasses back on but his brows are narrowed tightly as he crosses his arms over his chest tightly.

The “athletic zone”... You’ve heard of it before. A state of pure focus, of peak performance, where an athlete experiences optimal concentration and a sense of effortless control over their actions. In which they perform at their highest level, where time slows down, any and all distractions fade away, and they’re completely immersed in their sport at hand. At the task at hand.

Coach Yaga seems to pick up on the fact that Gojo was on the edge of tapping into that state. 

YCU makes a substitution, and you watch in anticipation as they begin the kickoff. 

There’s fire in their veins with desperation to even out the score once more, rushing the ball down the off-field line, one of their center forwards mimicking Gojo’s signature attack pattern, and Yuta struggles to keep up with the expert dribbling of a fourth-year player with more experience on him, so much so to where he completely leaves the ball unguarded and there’s an open shot, but Geto places pressure at the last moment, in a fierce battle for the ball, before YCU’s center forward loses the ball over the goal line. 

Choso picks the ball up, tapping on it harshly a few times as he surveys his eyes down the field, and all offensive players begin to shuffle towards their attacking goal in anticipation for the goal kick. He signals his hand down and then holds up two fingers in the air before placing the ball down on the six-yard box. He tightens the strap of one of his gloves, eyes squinting, and you follow his gaze down to a part of the field where you note UTokyo’s best aerial players are located and being guarded by YCU’s defense. And with complete trust in his team, that’s exactly where he kicks the ball. 

Geto makes first contact with the ball, his chest colliding with two other YCU players as his head comes out on top and he headbutts the ball closer towards the inner field, and Gojo immediately gains access to it with a bounce of his knee. The crowd holds their breath, fear that they’ll lose the ball to a steal in the split second it spends floating in the air, but Gojo urges it forward with a bounce off of his chest and then rushes it straight down towards the goal post. 

You wonder what sight he sees right now. Where you’re dead center, at no angle, lunging towards the sight of an open goal with a sole goalie standing in the center, anticipating to block your shot, and three defenders on your tail. There’s no room for error, no time to think, only instincts that you cultivate in the last leading milliseconds. They say that, in sports, athletes channel one hundred hours of practice in just a brief second on the field. A split second success that was years in the making. You can’t even imagine possessing that level of perfection in your body, or possessing that level of confidence that you can follow through with it in a moment as dire as this.

It was unreal, the way Gojo fades away from all the defenders, and faces no fear when confronted with the sight of the goalie in front of him while drawing his foot back to kick the ball. You lift your camera up at the last second, no time to think about aperture or ISO, just like he had no time to second-doubt a single twitch in his muscles, and his foot makes contact with the ball so harshly that you can hear the explosive sound even among the delirious cheers from the crowd, before he hook, line, and sinks it straight past the goalie’s head, rushing by like a scarcely deflected bullet, and into the net behind him. 

3-1, UTokyo.

The whole stadium is momentarily speechless, all players and referees and recruiters and reporters and coaches and employees alike, before the most deafening cheers you’ve ever heard in your life scatter across the stands.

There’s a moment of brief reprieve, where the players can catch their breath while YCU makes yet another substitution, as if they’re just trial-and-erroring it at this point, and the cheers in the stadiums remain idle as you can’t tear your gaze away from Gojo.

It’s one of those moments where you realize that someone who you thought was so familiar to you was actually someone you hardly knew at all. You knew he was a talented soccer player, everyone on campus knows it, potentially one of the best to ever grace the league, and the amount of times you passively watched his plays on a lecture hall projector screen as your professor enthusiastically broke them down during class, even before you met him, was good enough for you to realize that he was insane, a one-in-a-million, a talent you cannot replicate, one you have by divinity. One you were born with. 

And yet, somehow, getting to know him these past couple of months, he just felt so human. For someone so seemingly beyond you, he felt so…close? In those moments where it was just the two of you, it was hard to imagine that he was capable of such greatness, and that so many people were rooting for him with wholehearted tears in their eyes and cheers from their hearts, because most of the time, when he was with you, he was just a dorky idiot. You find that your heart is beating fast in your chest, that feeling of being unsure of what to do with what you’ve been wanting resurfacing powerfully. 

“This is insane,” you hear Minato say from beside you and you jump a little from your thoughts being interrupted.

You twiddle with your camera straps. “I know…almost done with the first half and we’re up 3-1…I thought YCU are number one in offense for the league?”

“Oh, yeah, I mean, yes, that is insane too. But what’s even more insane is that three of the goals so far have been scored by one player.” He tips his chin towards the right sight of the field and you trail his line of sight. “By Gojo Satoru.”

Your brow furrows as you watch Gojo, his hands on his hips and his mouth slightly open as he indulges in a few shallow breaths to gain energy while YCU prepares for kickoff. Three goals, by just one player. Your eyes widen when you realize that is insane, especially for a D1 semi-final qualifying match.

“You know what the divisional record is for most goals scored by a single player during a championship match, y/n?” Minato asks you as he lifts his camera up to take a picture of the area Gojo was standing in. 

You shake your head and wait for his response.

He drops his camera down and glances at the photo on his screen. “Four. During Keio Uni vs. Osaka Uni, near the beginning of the tournament back in 1997 by Osaka’s center forward number 24, Yuji Nakazawa. Meaning no one’s managed to beat that record since the new millenia, for a couple decades. Although a few players came close.”

You blink at him, and Minato is jerking his chin over in the direction of Gojo again.

“I think he’s trying to beat the record.”

You can only widen your eyes at Minato in realization, and then the chirp of the referee’s whistle draws everyone’s attention back to the field. 

The sports announcers go wild on the speakers, the crowd raving all the same, standing to their feet like the team just won the championship match.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!! We are watching HISTORY in the making!! Gojo Satoru, UTokyo’s very own 3-year consecutive MVP, has scored his 34th goal of the season, highest of any player in this year’s season so far, and is now on the road to beat the league’s long-standing record for most goals scored by a single player in a championship match since 1997!!” And the crowd roars even louder as you stare out at the field in awe.

YCU starts the kickoff following the prompt short chirp of the referee’s whistle, and with two minutes remaining on the clock for the first half, make desperate attempts to book it down the field towards their attacking goal, one of their midfielders making a clumsy attempt to strike the ball to the net in the final minutes of the half, and Choso easily catches it in his arms, right before the buzzer of the timer sounds, and the match moves into halftime. 

All of UTokyo’s players immediately flock towards Gojo in sportful glee, finally having a chance to surround him and harass him with harsh pats on his back and ruffles of his hair for his play in the first half. Choso even puts him in a headlock because they all don’t know what else to do with their excitement and adrenaline rushing through their bodies. Their win for today was basically confirmed with the way he was playing. 

You catch a glimpse of him through the crowd of people, and he has a boyish grin on his face, reveling in the embarrassing amount of attention from his teammates, that focused look from before dissolving into his normal self again. But you can see through him, as well enough as you’ve learned to at least, and you can tell he’s not satisfied. He’s thinking it’s not enough. There’s still more to be done, and it’s not time to celebrate yet. 

His eyes scan down the sideline until they find you. 

Your heart jumps a second in your chest. He stands up straighter, despite his teammates still clinging to him, and there’s a twinkle in his eyes when your eyes meet. 

Cheerleaders take their place out onto the field, performing their numbers with loud music blaring, and the recruiters seated at their white tables get up to roam across the sidelines in discussion with referees and with Coach Yaga and with whatever players they can sink their greedy teeth into, as well as sneak at refreshments while they’re at it. You can see off to the right that Hana has reunited with Minato and she’s showing him some of the shots she took over at the opponent's side. 

UTokyo’s players start to make their way to the benches to grab for towels and drinks of water and to sprawl across in rest, and you hear loud familiar laughter approaching as you watch the players sprawl across the benches, so you avert your eyes towards the source of the sound. 

You see Gojo approaching the benches, two of his teammates slung with their arms around him in some type of adrenaline-drunken glee as they talk dramatically and theatrically which Gojo entertains with his own drunk-off-of-adrenaline glee. And you raise an eyebrow at his demeanor when he makes eye contact with you.

“There’s my freaky little photographer,” he says, and he’s standing up straight and—wait, is he puffing his chest out as he makes his way towards you? Oh for fucks sake.

Gojo has always been confident around you, for as long as you can remember, but in the fair few moments he’s been cocky, he’s been a menace. And you can only assume the testosterone-induced high of being on the verge of breaking a league record in front of the entire school then subsequently getting homiesexually praised by his teammates for the better part of the past five minutes, not to mention with the crowd and the reporters feeding his ego with a spoon across the speakers, he’s been transformed into the final boss of cocky.

His teammates surround you too, their hands on their hips as they assess you and Gojo when he meanders right up to you, arms held out to hug you, a sleazy sight you’ve seen probably six times this week, and you feel a rush of warmth in your cheeks as you place a hand on his chest to keep him away.

“You’re sweaty and gross, please stay away from me,” you reprimand him, “this is an expensive lens that is not humidity-proof.” 

“Hey, you’re the girl that Kentaro socked in the face with a ball the other day at practice, right?” one of his teammates asks, leaning in towards you to take a closer look at your face.

“Oh yeahhh, ‘cause Satoru wasn’t paying attention,” another one of his teammates chimes in teasingly, hardly heard over the loud remix playing in the background as the cheerleaders continue to perform on the field. 

You shrink a little from where you stand. Gojo’s got an irritated look on his face and he’s shrugging his teammate’s elbow off of his shoulder.

“I really hope you’re getting my good angles,” his teammate to the left comments before winking at you, and you purse your lips together. 

The one on the right leans in too, looking at your cheek with an assessing look in his eye. “At least it didn’t leave a scar on your cute face—”

Gojo shoves the both of them back and away from you by elbowing them in the chest, and they make deep eugh noises before stepping away and rubbing at their sternums with pouts on their faces.

“Get the fuck away from her,” he grumbles, “she’s mine.”

Your cheeks flush slightly with warmth at the attention, and you watch as his teammates scurry away to adhere to some social hierarchy Gojo seems to possess over them.

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Yours?”

“Yes. Eventually. Whatever, did you see me out there?” he turns his torso towards the field and points behind himself with his thumb, “when I—”

“Oh god, you know what’s soooooooooo super sexy to me?” you interrupt him. “When guys are humble.”

“Oh c’monnn,” he curls his arm around your waist and pulls you to him, to where you stumble a little on grass and he holds you when you fall into him with more clumsiness than grace. “Tell me you aren’t at least impressed by me.”

You pout, because you are, and you’d really like to give him some reassurance and validation, but for some reason his cocky attitude is setting you off. “Satoru,” you sigh, wiggling a little in his hug, but he holds you tighter, “I’m working right now. Cut it out.”

He lets go of you at that, sober enough from the adrenaline to realize you’re being serious, but he steps into your space so only you can hear him. “What? Are you embarrassed?”

“Of what?” Your face twists with confusion.

“Of me. Are you embarrassed of me?” he asks.

“No. Why would I be embarrassed of you?” you ask with sharpness.

“I don’t know, just, sometimes I feel like you’re always annoyed by me,” he says with a sigh. “It’s like, you’re really sweet sometimes, and then kinda rude out of nowhere, and it’s sort of messing with my head.”

You pout. “You were messing with my head for weeks.”

“And I’m sorry about that,” he quickly interjects, like he already knew you were brewing up that counterargument, “but you don’t have to act like you’re all disinterested and indifferent just to get back at me for it.” He places his hands on his hips and wipes his temple on the round part of his shoulder when he feels a drop of sweat trickle down from his hairline. “You don’t have to act embarrassed around me either.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” you deny, and your cheeks feel hot, and for some reason you feel angry. “In fact, I’m the one that should be asking you that question. Because I still very clearly remember that time you said I was just someone you know in front of your friends.”

He groans and tilts his head back with frustration. “Can you just let that go? Things have changed between us since then. Move on.” 

“You kissed me and then pretended I was just a stranger to you in front of your friends,” you grit as you cross your arms. “That’s the level of sincerity that I know from you, Satoru.”

“Oh, okay, so there’s nothing else I’ve done that shows you that I’m serious about you?” he asks rhetorically with incredulity, throwing his hands up in the air in disbelief.

No. That’s not true, not true at all. But he’s pissed you off now and so all logic was to the wind. “Doesn’t matter. If you’re not embarassed of me, and if you’re really serious about me this time, then fucking prove it.” You’re speaking out of spite, and you fear you’ve just set him off too.

“Fine,” he says, and he grabs the microphone straight out from a passing reporter’s hand, replacing it with a gatorade bottle. The reporter stares at the bottle he’s now holding with confusion. “I will.”

“W-Wait—” you squeak out, feeling the hair at the back of your neck bristle in anticipation and a shiver gets sent down your spine. The cheerleaders are making their way off the field at the end of their routine, and you can hear the thumps across the loud boisterous speakers when Gojo whacks his palm to the microphone to make sure the thing was on before he jogs to the center of the field.

The crowd is already cheering, ecstatic to see the afternoon's star player and pride & joy of their school, and Gojo takes a moment to soak in all the glory in comical appreciation with bowing towards all 360 degree angles of the stadium.

“Uhhh,” you hear Choso from beside you, who’s strapping his thick goalie gloves tightly to his wrists, “Why the fuck does Satoru have a microphone while standing in the middle of the field.”

“It can’t be for any publicly decent reason,” Geto muses.

All you can do is watch.

“Hi, uh,” Gojo starts, static blaring slightly across the speakers and the crowd winces with him, “sorry. I’m Satoru, Gojo Satoru, you might know me from—uh, the game you’ve been watching?”

Cheers all around, because as if a single person wouldn’t know who he is. The stands were rowdy and most definitely drunk off of sidestep beers the stadium has been serving all afternoon long. 

Gojo is about to continue speaking, when he catches sight of the table of recruiters in the corner of his eye and he turns to face them out of respect. “Oh, yeah, uh, number 10,” he tugs his jersey up at the shoulder to stretch out the fabric, the 1 and the 0 flattened in view, “division player ID 233-997. Coach Yaga keeps my business cards in his purse if you want one.”

“SAAAAATTOOORRUUUU!!!!!” you hear Coach Yaga yell from somewhere in the distance.

“Anywho,” Gojo continues, and the music dims slightly, so he glances at the stop clock on the screen, which shows him he’s got roughly five minutes left to pull off whatever idiocracy he had in mind before the second half of the game starts. “Just here to say that there’s this girl I really like.”

The crowd gets louder, almost deafening, and sonically mostly feminine in (delusional) hope he’s gonna name call one of them.

Gojo’s voice is crisp and clear through the speakers as he clarifies. “She’s standing over there,” he says as he nonchalantly points to your exact latitude and longitudinal direction, “with the big camera slung around her neck that looks like it could pull her down to the center of the earth. Yeah. She’s super cute and I really like talking to her.”

“Uh-oh,” Geto murmurs from beside you, and you glance at him to try to get a read on the situation but you can’t.

Gojo starts to pace across the center of the field now, like he’s working the crowd. “But get this—she thinks I’m not fuckin’ serious about her!!!”

The crowd groans with him in unison. Yep, most certainly drunk. Or high off of glee. Either way, he’s playing them like a violin.

“Huh?” Gojo’s voice sounds distant now, away from the mic, and you can see on the large pixelated screen that he’s being interrupted by someone that looks like one of the videographers, “oh, what’s that? This is being broadcasted? Uh-huh. Oh. I’m not allowed to cuss? Oh fuck, okay. Er— shit, okay. Wait—shoot, okay.”

Choso’s smirk is heard from beside you, and you catch Geto and Nanami shaking their heads in your periphery.

“LIKE I SAID,” Gojo continues into the mic, “the girl I like thinks I’m just messing around, so. Uh. To show her that I’m serious about her, I’m gonna…” He looks up at the sky to ponder, and you can hear people shouting all sorts of suggestions of nonsense from the crowd. And instead of saying proclaim my undying affection for her through a romantic soliloquy straight from my heart in the presence of the entire school, he says—“I’m gonna strip. Yes. Down to my tighty whities, Imma strip.”

H–

Huh?!?!?

You don’t even have time to be horrified or scared, you’re just bewildered beyond belief that that’s what he came up with.

What the fuck kind of reassurance did you ask for. And what the fuck kind of reassurance were you about to get?

The crowd goes wild, it’s no surprise to say everyone and their mothers wants to see him naked, even the straight dudes would dig it for the gym inspo. And he points straight to you, sleazy look on his face and you’re going to ignore the fact that he just winked at you too as he crosses his arms to hold the hem of his jersey and pulls it up over his head in the most raunchy and slutty way a man can take his shirt off.

The music manager is quick with the bit, and is most definitely a fellow Gen Z college student, because Justin Timberlake’s SexyBack (ft. Timbaland) starts playing across the speakers and the crowd goes ballistic.

“Ayo why’s Satoru Magic Mike’ing the field right now?” one of his other teammates calls out through a mouthful of protein bar, “What the fuck did I miss?”

The cameraman does God’s work in a hella zoom-in of Gojo’s sweat glistened abs, then pans up the naked expanse of the perfect taut skin across his chest, and you can’t help but stare even among all your horror. It’s like when a male bird embarrasses the fuck outta himself to attract a female bird sitting on a perch, except instead of within the context of a NatGeo documentary, this was your real life. Everyone wants him, but he’s making a fool out of himself for you. 

He pretends to stretch his arms up into the air, a cover-up to flex his biceps, and then he kicks his cleats off, and the socks come off too. Entirely unnecessary, as showing one's ankles is simply too slutty, but alas he’s a whore. And when his thumbs dip into the waistband of his shorts, and there’s anticipating screeching from the crowd, he finally gets chased by security. 

Except he’s an intercollegiate D1 athlete, why the fuck wouldn’t he be able to outrun a bunch of dudes in black?

The camerawork on him is phenomenal as he runs across the sidelines of the field, eliciting a wave down the bleachers. So good in fact that you’re pretty sure the camera man could shoot for the Olympic track and field, with the way the stadium’s got a clear sight of Gojo mouthing the lyrics Them other fuckers don’t know how to act from the song still blaring with satirical rage on his face as he makes a fool of the men chasing him around the perimeter of the field.

And then he does it, drops his shorts, discards them with a kick, and he’s down to his tighty whities as promised. Cameraman has got to be displaying some previously undiscovered level of talent as he zeroes in on a shot of said tighty whities, with Gojo’s—forgive me, I need to be crass—huge bulge prominent in Big Dick Energy fashion except his tighty whities have little red hearts in rows across the fabric so do with that duality what you will.

He’s outrun security with a steady grin on his face as he eats up the drunken crowd’s cheers and riots and roars and you feel like you’re the only sane person in this stadium, or maybe you’re just not used to the fanatics of a college sports crowd. You peep the men in black trailed all the way on the left side of the field where they abandoned their pursuit of Gojo.

He taps imaginary pockets at his thighs, very muscular thighs you take indulgence in noticing, as if he expected to find something there, and he looks around when he doesn’t. He shrugs and grabs the microphone of the next passing sports commentator he spots, and then he makes his way back to you.

His breathing is a little shallow, and he inhales deep to catch his breath. “Baby.” The crowd SCREAMS at the way he purrs the word into the mic. “Will you do me the honor,” he’s huffing and puffing, heard across blaring speakers, “of being my lawfully wedded girlfriend?” And then he holds the mic to your lips.

“W-Wha—” you stutter, and there’s chanting across the crowd with words that barely make sense until you finally realize they’ve started to yell say yes! say yes! say yes! “Oh my gosh, okay, yes, fine, now please, for the love of god, put some freaking clothes on!”

The crowd goes wild with cheerful glees, and Gojo shoots fists up in the air in celebration as he runs all the way towards the center of the field with high knees, and you’re gawking at the sight, before he falls backward onto the grass and makes delirious snow angels on the ground. You see Coach Yaga’s vein popping in his neck from pure agitation as he storms off towards the center of the field to knock some sense into Gojo, but you know that Coach Yaga can’t kick him out, because they still have a game to win. The perks of being the most valued player in the league is getting to act like an absolutely insane idiot because you know they still need you in the end to bring it home.

You glance to the right, seeing his teammates nodding slowly then getting back to wrapping athletic tape around ankles and stretching out shoulders, with immediate acceptance of his actions like it wasn’t even out of character for him to do. And you realize again that you don’t know Gojo as well as you think you do.

And then the halftime timer is up.

You see Gojo approach the benches in a quick jog, squeezing some water into his mouth with his green gatorade squirt bottle, and when your eyes flit up to the screens on all four entrances, you see that the cameramen are still all focused on him accompanied by the continued buzz of conversation among the crowd following his public spectacle. But he seems to already be past any semblance of embarrassment as he takes the attention with ease, before he glances up to make eye contact with you and then lightly jogs right up to you.

“Did that prove to you that I’m not embarrassed of you?” he asks you, cocking a brow with a smug look on his face as he gets all up in your personal space. 

“I don’t know, but I’m certainly thoroughly and expeditiously embarrassed of you now,” you say, cheeks feeling flush when he leans forward so he can make eye contact with you at eye level. “I’ll have to move to a different country.”

His grin is relaxed. “Yeah well you asked for it.”

“Maybe. But I underestimated what a lunatic you are.”

“You’re my girlfriend now, you’ve gotta get used to it.”

Your heart skips a beat in your chest. “Satoru–”

“Tomorrow,” he cuts you off, “Hinode pier. I’ll pick you up at six. It’s a date, so wear something cute. And preferably easy to take off.” And then he’s attentive to the chirp of the referee’s whistle in the air before jogging backwards towards the feel and eventually turns on his heel towards the field while you’re left with warm cheeks and a heart that felt like it was moving at a mile a minute.

The timer for the second half refreshes on the screen while you loosely hold your camera in your shaking hands. It occurs to you that you haven’t taken a single photo of him before the start of the kickoff, and so you bring the piece of consolidated metal up to your eyes, peering through the viewfinder and focusing it on the center of the field. And there he was. Your muse.

Gojo lets out a breath, which you can see even from here that it’s shaky and staggered with resistance, and he lifts his jersey up to swipe at the sweat trickling down his face as he eyes the ball underneath YCU’s player’s foot just prior to the start of the second half. There it was—that look again of pure focus. 

3-1, forty-five minutes on the clock. And the referee chirps the whistle to start the second half.

It’s immediately evident that YCU has returned to the field following halftime with renewed energy, pressing high down the flank relentlessly past UTokyo’s defense, so fast it was hard for anybody to even keep a steady eye on the ball with the fluidity of their passes. The persistence pays off in the fake double-pass that slips past Geto’s feet, a moment of hesitation in the broken flow of UTokyo’s defense, and one of YCU’s strikers has the perfect line of shot towards the goal before digging his foot under the ball and sending it flying towards the corner of the goal post, scoring themselves a goal within just the first five minutes of play.

3-2.

The pressure mounts at the next kickoff, and with about seven minutes of solid play, with back-and-forth passes, multiple attempts at both goal posts to no avail on either side, it was clear that exhaustion was bustling in the veins of all the players.

One of YCU’s offensive players seems to capitalize on this, jumping on a defensive lapse of a pass Nanami attempted to make towards Yuta, and the ball is swiftly stolen then raced back towards the goal post. Choso prepared himself at the line, light on his feet paired with a solid stance, but in a millisecond of a moment, YCU’s offense unexpectedly passes the ball to a player racing up the midfield, and the player chips the ball neatly into the exposed corner of the goal despite Choso’s attempt to lunge for it in mid air.

Equalized, 3-3 game, momentary shock across the players’ faces, and the crowd bustles with something that sounds less like glee and more life fear. YCU was prepared to live up to and hold onto their title as the league’s number one offense, and as Minato explained to you during your time working in this job, an offensive team isn’t good at scoring goals, but rather exceptional at breaking down the other team’s defense.

Your eyes zero in on Geto, who stands in the center of the field for kickoff, and he’s huffing and puffing. He's the lead of defense for the team, and you can only imagine the level of pressure he feels right now. He glances around to his players, over to Nanami who seemed to share the same level of exhaustion, and then he glances towards Gojo who stood in front of him off to the right. Except you notice that Gojo looks relaxed, albeit still exhausted, but there’s a composed expression on his face even in the moment of heightened stakes. With locked eyes, Geto nods at Gojo and raises two fingers up into the air to signal a play, of which Gojo seems to respond to by closing more distance between him and the goal post prior to the kickoff, positioning himself almost directly in front of it, to which YCU’s defense immediately begin to guard him in a tight radius. 

The kickoff begins, with Geto making a few passbacks with Nanami as they close distance towards the field before passing it off to UTokyo’s string of offense and then receding back to their defending goal. UTokyo continues to close distance, raising stakes for YCU as their defense begins to falter under pressure, and the ball gets passed to Gojo, who only keeps it in possession for less than three seconds before he passes it back to Yuuji, a risky decision to make in the second half of a semifinal match, but the first-year swiftly unleashes a powerful shot that rockets past YCU’s goalkeeper, up towards the corner, except–

It bounces off the metal of the goal post, shot off with projectile speed back towards the center of the field, but with razor-sharp reflexes, Gojo headbutts the ball in air, twists his torso and strikes the ball with his foot past a dumbfounded goalie who can’t even move an inch to guard the ball that he already knew was going to sink right into the goal, and that’s exactly what it does. 

The stadium erupts with the momentum.

4-3, UTokyo. 

It was a sweet moment, one you manage to capture on camera of Gojo running up to Yuuji and ruffling his hair in reassurance, despite the missed goal. Your heart feels warm in your chest, feeling your own sense of melancholy that this was one of the last times they’ll ever get to play together on a team. 

Your eyes widen when you glance at the scoreboard, realizing that he’s tied. Gojo is tied for the most goals scored during a championship match. There were less than three minutes left on the clock. UTokyo either preserves their lead, or they risk moving into overtime, which, judging by the exhaustion on the UTokyo players’ faces in the wake of YCU’s relentless offense this entire game, moving into overtime would be a hefty, hefty risk. 

YCU’s center forward takes his place in the center of the field, fire evident in his eyes as he glances across the field. YCU are light on their feet, channeling everything in their bodies into these last moments of the game as they prepare to start the kickoff. You glance across UTokyo’s players, and although they look spent, there was a resolute look to all of them. It wasn’t the time to give up or feel at ease even near the end of this grueling battle. Now was the time to play. 

The referee chirped his whistle, and the kickoff began.

YCU immediately presses hard, as all their other plays have been all game, in their desperation to score. You can already see UTokyo’s midfielders move sluggishly in comparison to YCU’s offense, a drag to their feet as YCU pushes past the first layer of defense towards their attacking goal. Geto takes an aggressive approach, making moves to steal the ball while Nanami and Yuta guarded both flanks, and there was a relentless pass-off happening that ate up more than a minute of the remaining time.

Nanami succeeds in stealing the ball, but immediately loses it under his feet by a YCU midfielder, who makes a broad pass down the sidelines to YCU’s star forward who then powerfully kicks the ball towards the unguarded area of their goal, a dangerous shot that was clear towards the crossbar and Choso makes a leap for it, high into the air, his glove brushing against the ball, the entire crowd holding their breath in anticipation–

And the ball lands in the net. 

4-4, tied game. With one minute and seventeen seconds left on the clock. 

There was no time wasted in getting back to center field. No time spent dwelling in the horrific roars of the crowd as they watch with anxiety and fear. No time spent to process or consider or signal any plays. Not even a single second used to catch breath. When there is this much at stake, an athlete thrives on momentum. 

To your surprise, Gojo isn’t the one that takes place at the center of the field to start the kickoff. Yuta stands there instead, and you notice his eyes are erratic as he surveys all corners of the field. 

The referee chirps his whistle. 

Yuta immediately passes it off to the side to UTokyo’s midfielder, who curls it towards their attacking goal with a swift pass to Ino, who closes distance towards the goal, but one of YCU’s defender slips in, undoing any progress they had made in their offense by stealing the ball and sending it back towards mid-field. Forty-three seconds. The crowd’s roars heightened as YCU continued to push forward, thirty yards now from scoring, and UTokyo’s defense was desperate to stop them but their momentum was cracking in the wake of their exhaustion. 

It was a moment you don’t think you could ever fully or truly recall, one that you wish you had focused all your energy and attention to so that you could commit it to memory for the rest of your life. The image of Gojo pushing all the way to ten yards before their defending goal, a place where no center forward should really be at in a game like this, but it was exactly what their defense needed. It was exactly what the team needed. It was exactly what the school needed. For the ball to be in his possession.

With twenty-two seconds left on the clock, he steals the ball from right under YCU’s offensive feet, and then charges towards the opposite side of the field. The crowd rises to their feet, thunderous roaring that overtook any and all senses, as Gojo weaves through forwards, center forwards, midfielders, and defenders, covering the entire span of the field in lightning time. Fifty yards, forty yards, thirty yards, twenty hards, ten yards–

In a moment you couldn’t believe, he digs his foot underneath the ball, and sends it flying out towards the goal. There was not even a margin of an inch in which it slipped past the goalie’s hands, past his head, and swiftly flew right into the net.

With three-two-one seconds, the match was over. 

5-4, UTokyo’s win.

The final whistle blew, and for a moment, there was silence. As if the world paused to catch its breath. Then, all at once, the crowd erupted with glee that shook the entire stadium at its core. Flags waving, scarves held high, toasts of beer held up to the sky, it was deafening, and it almost makes you want to cry. Thousands of voices shouting in unison, celebrating the hard-fought victory of their school’s team. A type of pride that was fostered, and well-deserved, and long-lived.

You quickly glance towards the field again, and see Gojo standing right at the same spot where he had kicked the last and final goal, staring towards the net. You can’t see the expression on his face, but it surprises you how still he is. Like a statue, staring at the goal with the ball tucked into its corner. The very epitome of what it means to succeed in this sport was right in front of him, and it seemed like he wanted to soak the visual in for as long as he could.

His trance is abruptly interrupted when his teammates swarm in, rushing over like a wave of pure adrenaline. They slap him on the back, ruffle his hair, shout his name, the sounds of gleeful disbelief mixed with exhausted sighs of relief swarming into the air. And Gojo finally melts away from the tension of the match and into the celebration as he weakly returns the embraces of his teammates while he catches his breath. 

“IT’S OFFICIAL!! IT’S OFFICIAL!! UTOKYO’S VERY OWN GOJO SATORU HAS OBLITERATED OSAKA UNIVERSITY’S RECORD FOR MOST GOALS SCORED BY A SINGLE PLAYER IN A CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH!!” 

The speakers are blaring the voices of the sports announcers, along with ambient music to match the intensity of the match that everyone had just witnessed. 

You should probably be doing your job. You know, take a picture of the huddle of players on the field as they bask in the glory of a close victory, but instead your feet start moving on their own. Like a magnet drawn to him, you make your way towards Gojo, only a slight hesitation in your step as you stop about ten feet away, suddenly unsure. But when he makes eye contact with you, all that fear melts away.

He hastily pats the backs of some of his teammates, acknowledging their praise at the center of the huddle before tightly squeezing past them to make his way over to you. Your heart is beating fast in your chest, feeling an almost overwhelming sense of pride in your school’s team, but more importantly, in him. What was the acceptable thing to do? Run to him, into his arms, and hug him while he twirls you around? Tackle him to the grassy ground? Kiss him like your life depended on it? You have no clue what the acceptable or sane or normal thing to do is. But he’s made his decision for you when he walks right up to you, his hands holding your waist as he pulls you towards him. He smells earthy, of grass and salt and sweat and of all the hard work he poured into today, the wear and tear of the game evident in the wear and tear of his jersey. He only manages to huff out an exhale at the sight of you, like some relief washing over him just by looking into your eyes. Forget the fact that the crowd was all watching and that all of the screens you could see past his head were focused on the two of you, because all you could hear or see or think was him.

“I believe you owe me a kiss,” he says, huffing as he catches his breath but that doesn’t stop the smile that makes its way onto his face.

You nod your head, giving him your own version of a sweet smile as your arms slide up past his shoulders, crossing behind his neck, and he leans down to kiss you.

You hear a swell from the crowd, some teasing comments off in the distance from some of his teammates, you’re pretty sure you hear Coach Yaga yelling at him to get back to the benches, but it all melts away with the feeling of him smiling against your lips as he kisses you at the center of this stadium.

It was a moment so pure, so sweet, so picture perfect, and for once, you’re not the one behind the camera taking the photo. You’re the one that’s in it.

.

.

.

.

.

[end of kickoff ch12]

a/n. aaa thanks a lot for reading!! pls the fucking public stripping scene was so stupid i apologize on behalf of kickoff gojo for his behavior 😂😂 i’ll put him in his cage dw this chapter had some of what i consider to be the most challenging aspects of writing for me (internal conflict, grand public gesture, sports jargon) and so writing it felt like an uphill battle the ENTIRE time i wrote it and edited it. i considered scrapping it sooo many times cuz i just wasn't happy w it...but whatever i can't expect to be 100% happy w every chapter i put out there haha. i think kickoff has become a lil sacred for me since i've been working on it for a while now but likeee...sometimes u just gotta say fuck it we ball (tbh kickoff gojo probably says that to himself before a match) anywho, i am veryy thoroughly excited for what i've got planned for the chapters to follow, especially moving into the last angsty arc before the end of the series!! so i look forward to picking up momentum w this series again :0 honestly chapters 10 through 12 were the most difficult things i've written so far for a lot of reasons, but i have a feeling things will go more smoothly for me creatively going forward since what i've got planned falls well within my writing comfort range oh also there seems to be a little confusion about the number of chapters left, as i know i had originally said 12, but i anticipate that there will be about 18 chapters of kickoff total!! so still around six chapters left before the end :)) much lovee thanks for reading!!

OH WAIT ONE LAST NOTE I'M SORRY i didn’t really have a way of organically incorporating this into the story n i’m not sure if i’ll get a chance to in the upcoming chapters, so i just wanted to share this part of ch7 (gojo’s pov chapter) that is relevant to this chapter:

During the thrilling semifinal match between Keio Uni, Gojo’s father’s team, and Yokohama Uni during the end of his senior year, spectators witnessed a game that most college soccer enthusiasts would deem was a once-in-a-lifetime watch. Both teams engaged in relentless offense, and Gojo’s father was on his way to shatter the record of the most goals scored in a single championship match within the history of the league, but when he received a call from his wife during a timeout with the most life-altering news he could have ever heard, he abandoned everything on the field that day to go home and be with her. Grainy footage from the televised broadcast still exists online today—the moment he sprinted across the field, confused players glancing in his direction, amidst the uproar of the crowd. She called to let him know she was pregnant. 

the record that gojo broke in this chapter is the same record that his father almost broke before he got the call that he was going to be a dad :0 

➸ you're all caught up!

additional notes. please do not pressure me for updates or ask when i will next update (read rules); taglist is currently closed (consider subscribing to the story on my ao3 for email updates if you'd like! :0)

taglist:

@megumisdivinedogs @witchbybirth @avatarl0v3r @mwtsxri @asherheed

@wynney @delulux3 @higurumapet @zombriesworld @xenop0p

@phoenix-eclipses @who-can-touch-my-boob @mo0nforme @reagan707 @lost-resonance

@foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @beabadobeee @thexmistress

@tsukikourito @pickuptruck01 @gabriiiiiiii @4y3sh4 @tiredflame132

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@joemama-2 @horisdope @banenemilk @nanasukii28 @spindyl

@ri-sa20 @thexmistress @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @sashisuslover

@chwesuh-imnida @megumisthirdog @imjustaweirdnerd @angelicscribe

[taglist is closed]

[ikeuverse]

OPPOSITES — p.jongseong

PAIRING: ceo!jay x fem!reader GENRES: fluff, smut, a little angst WC: 12.1k+

WARNINGS: swearing, drinking, slightly drunk, a brief argument. kissing, foreplay, (almost) dry sex. lmk if i've forgotten anything.

SYNOPSIS: jay was the most serious ceo anyone could meet and remember, but not when you were around. while he had a difficult smile, you captivated anyone with your cheerful and relaxed manner. one night, he decided to take you into his world, the business dinner, but you didn't know if it was a good idea.

NOTES: a little treat i wrote for my little sweetheart @bluej4ym <3 to thank you for all your care and for always being here for me. you deserve more stories (which i'll write later, spoiler yeah) and what's more, you deserve only good things bc you're like that, full of good things. thanks for your friendship, i love you very much. and i hope you enjoy the story as much as i do.

masterlist

Working in a multinational company has two aspects that you can't avoid. First was the growth of shares and partners, dealing with people at the top, and seeing the numbers rise as you closed really important deals. Secondly, there was the gossip that went around the corridors of the company, even more so if you were the CEO.

Jongseong could boast of having a major multinational, being a billionaire, and having shares rising by the second. He took the trouble to congratulate all the employees for their hard work and dedication while they were in that building, giving their all so that the numbers would rise even higher. But Jongseong couldn't control what they said here and there, especially about him.

Not that it was something he needed to care about, like hearing that he was a really serious and scary boss… Well, he could take that title with ease. Jongseong wasn't one for easy smiles and small talk, saying only what was necessary to his employees and being strictly professional and polite. Greeting passers-by regardless of whether they were having a good day or not. But his facade was cold and methodical, as you'd usually hear.

What Jongseong didn't like to deal with was the gossip that arose after he met you. Introducing you as a romantic partner was something he didn't want publicly at the beginning of the relationship, private life being exclusively for the two of you. As well as keeping you out of the eyes of employees he knew would be the talk of the town, Jongseong also liked to have all the time in the world for you. But the town was too small, he had thought when he heard one of the employees say, the next day when he met the two of you in a restaurant.

“The boss is dating a very beautiful woman” he'd boast, having good taste, having heard how beautiful you were and the compliments the young man made on your appearance, although he was a little annoyed that he'd looked at you so much to find out about your physical characteristics.

“Does he really have a heart? I mean, how is he supposed to treat this girl when he's so serious all the time?” well, Jongseong wasn't expecting that comment.

That's what had been hammering at him for so long, not denying any gossip that involved you and him specifically. Since your employees knew, there was no hiding it. This led him to take the liberty of asking you to come to the company a few days a week. Walking hand in hand with you down the corridors or holding your shoulder to guide you, or with his hand on your waist talking about how the evening would go at home and what he was planning for the two of you to have for dinner.

He didn't need any kind of validation from anyone, but he also didn't know how to explain how annoyed he was at the thought of people thinking he didn't pay enough attention to you. Just like you, the woman who stole his heart just by the simple way she treated him. You were unlike anyone he had ever met, and Jongseong would spend hours talking about you and how much you meant to him if it were possible. He would replace the weekly stock meeting just to talk about you.

“Mr. Park?” the voice interrupted him slightly as he rambled on about you and how he felt about you. His eyes left the computer that was open on the stock spreadsheets and quickly went to the door. Jongseong's secretary stared at him with a small smile without showing her teeth, politely and discreetly “I have some papers for you to sign, can I take them?”

“Of course, come in” he settled into his chair, waiting for the secretary to walk towards him and place the papers on the table. Jongseong rolled his eyes at the small mountain of sheets she had placed there and his eyes quickly went to the corner of the desk. A small picture frame was turned towards him, without anyone being able to make out what was there. A photo of you. The first picture he took on the analog camera you had at home. Jongseong hadn't tinkered with these things for a long time, ever since his camera had broken and, with the hustle and bustle of life and work, he'd never thought to fix it. But you had one, and it was in perfect condition. Capturing it was no effort when you were graceful to the extreme and your beauty had been captured without any problem.

He smiled so openly at the photo that he didn't notice that the secretary was still standing in front of his desk. Her gaze followed where he was looking and, curiously, she tried not to bend down to notice the photo, although she had a slight notion that it might be a picture of him or someone he loved very much.

“Do you need anything else, Mr. Park?” she asked shyly, and he noticed the astonishment on her face when he connected the dots… Jongseong had smiled openly for the first time in front of someone other than you or his parents.

“No…” he huffed, picking up one of the sheets from the pile of papers and looking at the written lines to try and disguise how fervently his cheeks were burning “You can go now, miss. Thank you.”

Just as she entered, greeting Jongseong on her way out, the door closed and left the man alone in the room again. It wasn't a big deal to smile like that in front of someone else, but he found it strange and felt that he had let his guard down for an employee he only had a professional relationship with. Jongseong thought he only had to show that side to everyone he worked with, he had no reason to be affectionate like that.

Apart from you, the only person who broke this kind of protocol was someone he knew would be coming into his office in the next few minutes. And without thinking to wait for a call or a message, or even a sign that he was coming in, the door was flung open.

The playful smile on Jaeyun's lips indicated that he had heard something in the corridors of the company.

“What's up, Mr. wide smile?” he hummed after closing the door, his hands in the pockets of his dress pants as he walked slowly over to Jongseong's desk.

“Are they commenting yet?” he snorted, throwing the paper on the table and stretching back in his chair.

“She said you have a beautiful smile” Jaeyun bit his lower lip to stop himself from laughing at his best friend's pained expression as he walked over to the table and sat down in the armchair right in front of his best friend and company owner “I think you should smile more, you know?”

“And I think you should fuck off—”

“Hey, is that how you talk to the vice president? How disrespectful” the other pretended to be offended, his posture mimicking Jongseong's in the chair, throwing all his weight on the back of the armchair while sighing heavily.

Sim Jaeyun had been Jongseong's best friend for as long as he could remember. Remembering Jaeyun running around at company parties when neither of them knew how to add two and two together. He had a tooth missing when he greeted Jongseong for the first time and asked him to play in the middle of a gigantic crystal fountain in a particularly large hall. When Jongseong and Jaeyun broke the statue and fell into the fountain, getting wet from head to toe, it was there that he knew for sure that this boy would be his best friend.

That's why he had asked him to be vice-president of the company because there was no one better than Jaeyun to help him with his business. He had always been by Jongseong's side and seen him through all the good and bad times, where Jongseong wasn't ashamed to be vulnerable around Jaeyun, let alone show the side of him that almost no one knew about.

That's why it was impossible to remain serious around his best friend, even in the workplace. Jongseong didn't like being in the same environment as Jaeyun for too long, especially in meetings, because he knew that at some point his best friend would say something that would make him crack up and laugh at the same time. That was one of the reasons why the two of them hardly had any meetings together, even if Jaeyun did manage to get them together once in a while to talk to some employees.

“Do you know what I was thinking?” Jaeyun asked.

“And you were thinking?” the other joked, receiving Jaeyun's middle finger affectionately and a grimace soon after, making him laugh jokingly.

“We have less than a week until the Swedish partner's welcome dinner” he sighed happily. Jaeyun liked dinners because the buffet was always very well served and he knew that someone always remembered to put out the appetizers he liked. Good champagne and he would judge people's clothes along with you because he knew Jongseong would take it. Jaeyun was sure of it, he made friends with you so easily that it was like a perfect fit that you had come into his best friend's life. Because Jongseong would never say anything about anyone else, even though she was completely underdressed. But Jaeyun knew that you would drop a comment and laugh at something he said because you and he were Jongseong's karma. In a good way.

“And what does that mean? We're going together as a couple again?” it was Jongseong's turn to ask, making his best friend roll his eyes.

“First of all— Ew” he pretended to shudder with disgust, but there were countless times that the two of them went to dinner together. One because neither of them had any thoughts of dating or anything like that, and two because it was cooler to be with his best friend “Secondly, I thought you'd take Y/n. You have to take her!”

“Why?” Jaeyun noticed that Jongseong hesitated a little. His posture shifted in his chair as he uttered his name in the middle of the conversation. He thought his best friend would be happy about the mention and how much Jaeyun liked you, practically a sister-in-law to him. But he saw the company owner's expression change a little.

“Because, well… she's your girlfriend?” it seemed obvious to say something like that, Jongseong wanted to slap himself for acting like that, even more so in front of Jaeyun “And because it's a company event, it's your chance to bring her closer to the gossips who say you treat her badly.”

Jongseong hated how oblivious and sincere his best friend was. The words came out of the other with no intention of hurting or offending, and he knew it. But he also knew how sincere the boy was being because although Jongseong had never been so open about his personal life, having you around where almost everyone – or everyone – from his company was, would be a good opportunity to at least show that he cared about you. Not as he would have liked because you were in public, but he would have tried.

“I don't know why I'm bothering with this, honestly” he put his hands over his face, his voice coming out muffled and he holding back the overwhelming urge to shout. Jongseong was sincere when he said it and he knew that his best friend understood, after all, he had known him almost all his life.

“Maybe it's because you really love her and can't stand the idea of people making things up about you dating her” was another naked truth coming out of the mouth of the world's most sincere best friend, whom Jongseong felt incredibly lucky to have. He took his hands away from his face, letting them rest on his lap as he looked at the boy in front of him.

That was completely true, and also because you were the first person who took him out of the CEO posture and saw him only as Park Jongseong. You saw him as someone other than a suit and tie, expensive clothes, and a closed face. You smiled so beautifully at him that it was then that Jongseong knew he should marry you.

“I hate you” was the only thing he managed to say to Jaeyun, hearing his best friend's laugh after a big thud on the table. He had slapped the thick wood a few times to celebrate that he was right.

“Now that I've convinced you to take Y/n to dinner, I'm going to send her a message” Jaeyun stood up.

“What? You're going to text my girlfriend and say what?” Jongseong narrowed his eyes at the boy.

“I want to ask if that best friend of hers is available… What's her name again?” Jongseong listened to Jaeyun speak several names until he guessed the name of his best friend, whom he had seen a few times when the two of you went out together somewhere more relaxed.

Jongseong genuinely laughed at this, Jaeyun's intentions always being serious, but with a comic undertone that took away all the weight of working hard all week. He watched his best friend walk out of the office humming something without saying another word, leaving him there with a smile on his lips and the thought of introducing you to a sea of people next week.

Jongseong had parked in front of your apartment countless times, waiting for you to come down and walk out the door as gracefully as ever. This time something seemed different and he knew he was too nervous – and unnecessarily so. It was just a dinner he was tired of being at, with boring people, although the subjects were really necessary. He was cordial and polite to partners and future investors, waving and greeting people who were as rich as he was just to make an average while sipping some expensive drink he didn't even care about.

Having you by his side that night would make things a little different. Jongseong didn't know if it had been a good idea to invite you to that dinner, he knew it was a world you weren't used to, although he never said he felt uncomfortable knowing how much he was part of it. Your life, completely opposite to his, was what gave grace and balance to the relationship between the two of you. While Jongseong was counting the company's millions in revenue, wearing a suit worth almost a hundred thousand and always with his hair combed with gel and straightened, you were the opposite. A baggy, comfortable suit soiled with some kind of paint or clay, your hair curled or tied up however, you could manage, inside a room full of art and paintings that you sold everywhere or gave lessons on how to make a good canvas painting. You made your money quietly and unhurriedly, while Jongseong needed figures and results the moment he opened a spreadsheet on his computer.

While he was serious and had no chance for a relaxed smile, you smiled at everyone and greeted anyone who passed in front of you. Your good mood was recognized by Jongseong the day you met, in the coffee shop you shared – in secret – because he knew it was the only quiet place, while you liked the aroma of the coffee and the few people who went there. He was in such a hurry the day he entered that establishment that he didn't see you and knocked over all the coffee you had just paid for.

There was no way he could have cursed you, after all, it was his fault because he didn't look where he was going. He didn't wait for you to pass and even made you waste your drink. Looking in your direction, you kept a smile on your face, even though your T-shirt was dirty with iced caramel coffee. Apologies wouldn't be enough for him to make up for what had happened, so buying you another coffee would be the least he could do. But as soon as he sat down at the table to wait for the compensation coffee, he was surprised by your good humor and smooth talk.

As if you weren't intimidated by him and how well-dressed he was in front of you. Nor did you care that your coffee was sticking to your shirt by now and the smell of caramel was invading the conversation you were both having. Jongseong never thought it would be so easy to talk to someone until he met you. Until he fell in love with you so naturally that he wanted to see you even more every day.

Jongseong sighed slowly, feeling nostalgic for the first day he laid eyes on you. How lucky he was that everything had turned out the way it had… He was overcome by that feeling until he stared at the entrance to your building. There you were. As beautiful as he remembered you to be. So perfect walking towards him while carefully holding the scarf that covered your shoulders to keep the wind from hitting you as the night went on. Although you were covered by his blazer by the end of the night, though.

“Hey” you said as soon as you got close enough, giving that smile that Jongseong was sure was his fuel for anything.

“Hey, darling” Jongseong said back, stretching out his hand enough to touch your waist over the dress. The silk making contact with his skin and the softness of the fabric made him smile. It hugged his body so perfectly that Jongseong was beginning to wonder if he should take you like that.

“Do you like it? Jake helped me choose, he said you'd like this color” your pout was soon broken by his lips, a quick kiss without much depth since you were both still out of the car. Jongseong took a good look again. The navy blue silk highlighted everything about you; from the color of your eyes, the tone of your hair, and even the tone of your skin. He certainly liked that color.

“He knows me on this” Jongseong kissed your lips once more, his other hand going to your face to caress your cheeks and feel the softness of your skin this time “You look stunning, baby.”

“I'm glad you liked it, love” you thanked him, and it was your turn to kiss him quickly to pull away and pull him into the car. You didn't know what time dinner would start on the dot, but you were sure that Jongseong couldn't be late, after all, he was the CEO. He would need to be there a little earlier as he had to welcome the guests and greet a world of important people.

He wasn't a difficult person for you to read, ever since you first met, so this evening it was easy for you to notice how nervous Jongseong seemed. From getting into the car and holding your thigh as his drove, to arriving at the dinner space and getting out of the car with you. Everything seemed to move in slow motion and every time you saw him look in your direction, his adam's apple would jiggle a little more, indicating that Jongseong was swallowing dry for some reason. A reason you couldn't think of. Perhaps asking Jaeyun would be a good idea since he was with Bonnie, your best friend. The two of them were relaxed with each other and would be your company while Jongseong went off to greet the first business partners of the evening.

“Do you two want something to drink?” Jaeyun asked when he found the table that the four of you would be sitting at for the rest of the evening, with only Jongseong left to join you.

“You can bring me whatever you're drinking” Bonnie smiled at Jaeyun, who smiled back.

“I think I'll take a water.”

“What?” Jaeyun's expression contorted, a grimace appearing as he wrinkled his forehead at you while sticking out his tongue “We have so many nice drinks and you're going to ask me for water? Please, Y/n.”

“That's right Y/n, how about the three of us have a drink together?” Bonnie tried to cheer you up with Jaeyun's help. If denying your best friend was a difficult task, having someone else do it made it even worse.

You weren't able to say anything else before Jaeyun left in search of a really good drink in addition to a glass of water. Meanwhile, the moment passed in complete silence between you and your best friend, because she knew you needed some time to yourself. That environment was something different for you and knowing that the stares you received were because you were known as the CEO's girlfriend. What would they think of you… that you were a gold-digger? Or did Jongseong's employees even know about the solid relationship you and he had?

It was clear that he acted strangely when it came to you and his working environment, and it was something you didn't question or care much about. Because you didn't meet Park Jongseong, the CEO. You met Jay, Jongie, the loving man who smiled at you no matter what situation he faced that day. The man with the warmest hugs and the best kiss you've ever tasted in your life.

Much of that dinner was a blur to you after Jaeyun brought some drinks and the three of you chatted about various things, with a little time left over to judge the outfits of people who swore they looked great in that space. But in fact, they were dressed so strangely. Like… Even you, who had never been to such a fancy dinner before, knew how to dress – although Jaeyun helped you with the choice because he knew what Jongseong liked – but that was no excuse! You looked much better than the people who were the talk of the table.

Jongseong had finally joined the table and the conversation between him and Bonnie was pleasant, making you feel good that your boyfriend got on well with your best friend. Just as you and Jaeyun had gotten along. Your boyfriend kept his hand on your thigh under the table, stroking your leg as the conversation between him and your best friend flowed smoothly. The tender touch of Jongseong's fingers, was a silent way of telling you that he was there for you, even though his perfume was everywhere. At least to you, who could tell exactly what he smelled like?

You looked at Jongseong's profile, his sharp jaw and plump lips making your heart race. The way his dimples appeared every time he smiled at something the other two at the table said made your heart leap a little more than usual in your boyfriend's presence. You got so lost in his face, in Jongseong's stunning beauty that you didn't notice when he abandoned his conversation with Jaeyun and Bonnie to look in your direction.

“Admiring?” Jongseong said, a low tone knowing that you would hear it anyway because of how close you had to each other.

“Feeling lucky, maybe” you shrugged, noticing him leaning towards you. His face a few centimeters away from yours, Jongseong's gaze lowered to your lips and then back to your eyes.

“Lucky for what?” he asked, shifting his gaze back and forth between your eyes and your mouth. The way he did it was so natural, yet it made you boil with shyness. Your cheeks would already be visibly flushed if it weren't for the make-up masking it and the amount of alcohol you'd drunk. You could blame it on Jaeyun and Bonnie.

“For having you with me” you finally replied, causing Jongseong's gallant exterior to crumble and giving way to the man with the silly smile and passionate gaze. He leaned in a little closer, his forehead touching yours and the tip of his nose brushing against yours.

Even if you knew that that intimate touch was the furthest the two of you had gone in front of everyone, you didn't know that practically all of his employees would be watching and commenting on it. Seeing how enamored Jongseong seemed to be with that simple touch.

“If I'm going to count myself lucky on this, then I'm the luckiest man on the planet” with a final whisper, he was ready to kiss your lips. Tasting the flavor of the drinks you'd had that night and how the fruity ones would have tasted on your tongue against his if it hadn't been for the mere interruption.

“Sorry to disturb you” Jongseong felt your breath quicken against your face, slowly pulling away so that he could straighten up and pay attention to whoever was calling him. And so he did. Sitting properly next to you as he had before, his hand still lingering on your leg as he looked at the middle-aged man standing behind Jaeyun's chair “I didn't mean to interrupt the guys, but I need you two with a so-called investor near the bar. Can you accompany me?”

A company dinner with business at a time that didn't need to happen. Jongseong and Jaeyun hated being president and vice president at this time.

“Will you wait for me for a few minutes?” he turned towards you, his eyes meeting yours effortlessly. The intense glare in your gaze made Jongseong unable to control himself even a little, so he leaned in and captured your lips without waiting for you to give anything away.

It was no lie to say that Jongseong had the best kiss in the world, even more so when he started caressing your lips with his cracked lips. The muscle of Jongseong's tongue came into contact with yours slowly and gradually, tasting the light fruitiness of the cocktail you'd had a while ago. He knew he would taste it, knew it would match the slow kiss you two shared. Unfortunately for both of you, the time had come to pull away and Jongseong did so with a small smile as he noticed the surprise on your face at having such a sudden kiss.

You held back the urge to laugh when Jaeyun came out and slapped Jongseong on the shoulder in excitement at the kiss that had just taken place. You caught a glimpse of the best friends pestering each other as, together, they walked to the bar where there were a few men much older than the two of them.

“I guess it's just you and me now, dear best friend” Bonnie moved between the chairs to sit next to you, facing the bar where the two boys had arrived a few minutes before. She slowly laid her head on your shoulder, feeling the weight of your head resting on hers straight away.

“How about some more cocktails? I loved what Jake brought us both.”

“That's how you say it. That's my Y/n!” she celebrated, raising her head and making you raise yours too. Bonnie's smile infected yours, along with her excitement at getting up from the table and going after another cocktail to face the rest of the night.

Jongseong's eyes were asking for help as he looked at Jaeyun and saw him order another glass of whiskey from the old man sitting between them. The deal had been made a long time ago, but the older man insisted on drinking a little more to celebrate. He didn't even want to celebrate more than he should have, one glass of whiskey was enough and Jongseong just wanted to go back to sitting at your table, be in your arms, and get out of that dinner.

Thinking about you and how much he missed you, he turned towards the table where you were supposed to be with Bonnie, expecting to see you talking to your best friend. But what Jongseong found was an empty table and nothing but the empty glasses that you all drank before leaving there.

He looked around, looking for some sign from you or Bonnie so he could have an excuse with which he could walk away, say that one of you two needed his help with something and get Jaeyun out of there too.

Jongseong was starting to get nervous without seeing you for more than two minutes, no sign of you anywhere. Then he looked at Jaeyun, as tired and bored as he was. Waving to his best friend as a silent request to leave, neither of them thought much other than to give a small excuse to the old man and walk away.

“What’s wrong, man?” Jaeyun whispered as the two of them walked away, looking at the table where the two of you should be and finding it empty “Oh, I see” then he started to search the place together with Jongseong.

“I think we can split up for a bit, maybe” he suggested as he started to get impatient. He had already walked through the long dining room and not a single solid spark from you or Bonnie. He sighed heavily, Jaeyun looking around before landing his eyes on his best friend.

“The second floor has some rooms from what the organization people said” he answered to Jongseong “Do you want to look there and I’ll go outside to see if the girls went out for some air?”

“Great idea, I’ll go up,” Jongseong said.

Climbing the stairs two at a time, he didn’t know he was capable of being as fast on a staircase as he was at that moment. The second floor was huge and he would spare no effort to open each door to get a signal. Maybe one of you two was drunk and needed some help and wouldn’t be able to speak. Jongseong thought he should have left someone from the company to keep an eye on you at least, so he would know where you were just by asking. But that annoying man rented his and Jaeyun’s time in such a long and tiring way that he didn’t even have time to think.

“Park Jongseong?” he didn’t want to see anyone right now other than you, but the call of his name made him turn towards the vast and empty corridor. Jongseong looked at the woman who was approaching, an eyebrow raised and a smile on her lips that made him wonder what was going on in her head.

“Yes, it’s me” he tried to sound as cordial as possible, as he did with everyone he talked to that night. The woman took a few more steps before stopping dangerously in front of Jongseong, her hand stopping halfway as she wondered whether or not she should raise it and touch him.

“I was looking for you.”

“Looking for me? What would be the reason?” he asked, a little confused when she took another step and Jongseong felt his back hit the wall furiously.

“I can breathe a sigh of relief because my husband finally closed a deal with you” her hand ran down his chest to the top button of his shirt, where she quickly unbuttoned it. Jongseong would have raised his hand to close it and push her away, but the woman was so close that any movement could make him touch some part of her body that he didn’t want to do at all. “That way I can go to your office often. Such a wonderful view…” she held his face between her hands, this time there was no way to think and Jongseong touched her hands to push her away, mentally cursing himself for touching the skin of another woman who wasn’t you.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think you understand” he tried not to sound as nervous as he was, breathing deeply so that his tone wouldn’t falter and remain serious. Jongseong looked at the woman who was trying to maintain an innocent look, which didn’t match what she wanted to do. “I closed a deal with your husband because the offer was great. And I have a girlfriend, so—”

“Oh, don’t be silly, Jongseong” she laughed. “That doesn’t work in the business world…”

He felt sorry for the man who had married her because if this was happening here, Jongseong couldn’t count how many times the woman in front of him had slept with her husband’s business partners. Did she think she would do that to him now? It made his stomach churn at the thought.

Jongseong looked ahead, looking for some sign that she was backing away so he could gently push her away and leave as quickly as possible. But again, the woman didn’t seem to give up and held his face tighter. Her perfectly painted and aligned nails dug into his skin strangely and painfully. Jongseong wanted to scream and tell all etiquette and manners to go to hell, he just wanted to get out of there. The woman stood on her tiptoes and leaned in to kiss him, but he was faster. His face turned in the opposite direction to hers to feel her lipsticked lips touching near the final line of his jaw.

This was something he would have to explain to you, the lipstick mark on your skin or any mark on your face that would have been left if you weren't at the end of the hallway. He felt his chest burn and his eyes widen when your figure was there, standing there and completely confused. Jongseong found some strength to push the woman in front of him without caring about any explanation. The only thing on his mind was to run towards you even though you were running in the opposite direction this time.

“Y/n, wait!” he shouted as loud as he could, running through the hallways until he came down the stairs after you. Jongseong didn’t know how you were so fast after a few cocktails, not even he was able to catch up to you.

The sea of ​​people flooded the hall and the entrance, coming in and out, walking in all directions. But he was focused on your figure heading outside, so that’s where he would head without thinking twice.

“Y/n, please listen to me” Jongseong shouted once more, his breath hitching as he continued running towards you until he saw that there was no escape for you anymore. The parking lot wall is the barrier to stop you from continuing to move away from him “Love, I—”

“Don’t call me that, please” by the tone of your voice he knew that you were holding back tears, and it hurt to know that it was because of him. Because of what you had seen. But what Jongseong wanted most was to explain to you everything that had happened.

“I call you because you’re my love” he continued, walking towards you even though you still had your back to him. Hearing each step of your boyfriend getting closer and closer until his warmth was against your back, “Can you turn around to face me, please?”

As much as he wanted to hold you, turn you around, and kiss you to get rid of any thoughts, he knew he had no right to do that at that moment. So he waited patiently until you turned around, finding your face blurred by tears and your eyes slightly red.

Jongseong hated himself so much at that moment. He hated himself more than anything in the world.

“Did you see everything that happened?” he asked, seeing you nod slowly, “Did you see that I tried to push her away—”

“Jongseong” he froze in place, it was his turn to widen his eyes because you never called him Jongseong. Even when you were mad at him, his name never left your lips. That hurt more than seeing you cry.

“Don’t call me that, you never call me Jongseong.”

“Jongseong” you repeated, your lower lip trembling and your eyes burning a little more. The nail marks on his cheek were still evident. You had seen everything from the beginning, since when that disgusting woman showed interest in your boyfriend thinking he would be another one she would sleep with. The shock had been so great that you hadn’t been able to scream to push her away or do anything, so it was only when your boyfriend walked away that your presence had been noticed in that hallway. You just wanted to find a bathroom to use, anyway, and ended up finding the worst scene that you wanted to forget now “If this happens at a dinner I've been invited to, I wonder what must have happened on the nights you were alone since we started dating.”

“What? Honey, no—”

Your broken sob was the last thing he heard before you walked away again. The desire he had at that moment was to go back to that hallway and make that woman tell him the whole truth about things. Jongseong had never been through a situation like that, the shock running through every fiber of his body as the vivid image of your face contorted in pain and sadness broke him more and more.

“Fuck” he threw his head back, wanting to scream as loud as he could until that horrible feeling passed. Even though he knew it wouldn’t.

Two weeks had passed, and Jaeyun counted on the calendar on his desk and his cell phone. Today was the end of two weeks exactly in which Jongseong had not left the office for anything. Meetings were postponed or only attended by Jaeyun. Calls were answered only by his secretary, with the answers to reschedule visits or that he was not available at the moment. And seeing him in the company hallways? No one did that. Jongseong would arrive an hour before everyone else arrived, only the security guards were able to find him wandering the hallways before entering the confines of his office and leaving an hour after work ended. He didn't want to be disturbed by anything.

"This is getting worrying" Jaeyun looked at his best friend's secretary. Yuna was a cool intern – and a gossip – but not in a bad way, she was the one who passed on all the information to him while Jongseong didn't participate in it. Jaeyun was a more relaxed boss, according to her.

“He postponed another meeting for next week” Yuna looked at the notes of all the interactions she had with the boss and owner of the company. Each message was written down with details and the times the contacts had happened, all so she could keep him informed later. “Do you think we should do something?”

“What if I go to his office?” Jaeyun asked her.

“Mr. Sim, you know that—” she hesitated a little, unsure of what to say, but when Jaeyun continued, Yuna knew she wasn’t that wrong.

“We won’t know without trying, right? And he can’t fight me for this, don’t worry” Jaeyun smiled at the girl and pushed herself off the counter of her desk, walking to Jongseong’s office. He missed the sigh of distress that Yuna gave, knowing the boss and owner of that entire building well. Jongseong would probably scold Jaeyun for bothering him like he did two days ago when Jaeyun insisted that he go out at least to eat something.

With a determined sigh, Jaeyun didn't even need to knock on the door and entered the room like he always did. This time just opening the door wide and walking in.

“I told you to get out of here, Jaeyun” the other didn't even need to take his eyes off the computer to know that, once again, his best friend was trying to interact.

“Since when do you call me Jaeyun, you shit?” he walked over to Jongseong's desk, looking around and noticing the mountain of trash and takeout food. His best friend wasn't like that, never had been. This was worrying him to an absurd level and he didn't know what to do.

Or he did know, he just wanted to test it a little and see how far he could go.

“Since when do you disobey my orders” Jongseong finally looked at him. Dark circles under his eyes and eyes almost screaming for a minute of rest where he could lay his head on the pillow and get some sleep. Jaeyun wondered how long his best friend slept each night to be like that. “Now, please, get out of my office.”

“No” he replied, making Jongseong’s eyes widen. “What? Did I stutter, Jongseong?” leaning on the table, his hands in front of his body and his head down, Jaeyun looked at him a little more seriously. Looking away across the table, Park Jongseong hated how much the boy in front of him knew him so well. He didn’t want to be like that and he also didn’t want anyone to see him like that.

“Jake, go to your office, please?”

“Only if you go home, take a shower, and get some sleep” he said. Jongseong gave a sad smile, really wanting things to be that simple. That he could get at least a little sleep, but every time he laid his head on the pillow, the image of your face came to his mind.

The first few nights, Jongseong could still see the sadness in your eyes and your last words to him before running away. Then he forced himself to think about the good times you shared during the time you were together. Your smile and your touch that he missed so much. The way you called him and told him your feelings in a melody so beautiful that it was the sound of your voice. Jongseong was lost without you.

“That’s not going to happen…”

“Either you go home, or I—”

“What?” he asked, interrupting Jaeyun in the same second.

He seemed to think for a moment, pondering whether to say what was on his mind or leave Jongseong on the edge of curiosity. He decided to go for the second option and pushed himself away from the table.

“You’re leaving this room today, wait for me” he said finally, walking through the room until he left without giving his friend a chance to answer.

It was all or nothing, he needed to do this even if it cost him something that Jaeyun didn’t even know what it was. But the sadness and worry of seeing his best friend like that was even greater than anything, so he would risk everything to make Jongseong leave that room that day.

“So?” Yuna asked curiously, looking at Jaeyun with expectation and excitement. She knew that the two were best friends and could get everything from each other.

“I couldn’t get him to leave there” he began saying, seeing that she was getting a little disappointed with what she was hearing. But as soon as Jaeyun took the cell phone in his hands, continuing to talk, Yuna smiled along with him, “But I know someone who can get everything from him.”

The sound of the computer keyboard combined with the traffic outside the building was the only sound Jongseong had heard for almost forty minutes. No interruptions from his best friend or his secretary. No one had contacted him through Yuna, much less asked to speak to him. It was incredibly peaceful, although his mind was in turmoil.

Jongseong was grateful for the amount of work that occupied his mind for most of the day, although he needed to review some documents since he got lost every time he looked at the photo on the table. Your face in it made him sigh and stop for a few minutes, messing up his hair and wondering what was going on. He wished he could go back in time and simply switch places with Jaeyun and go look for you and Bonnie downstairs. Or better yet, not accept the deal with that man and not have to deal with his freakish unfaithful wife.

Everything would be in perfect condition and Jongseong wouldn't have lost you like that. He felt incomplete and unhappy, just like he used to before he met you.

Jongseong's thoughts screamed self-deprecation. He would have continued doing this for the rest of the day if he hadn't been interrupted by a knock on the door. It wasn't Jaeyun, he was sure of that. His best friend never knocked on his door. It could only be Yuna, and she wasn't to blame for what was happening, so when he politely asked her to come in, Jongseong wasn't surprised to see her standing with the door open.

“Mr. Park, sorry to bother you” she began, almost as if it had been rehearsed during those two weeks when Jongseong had asked her not to be disturbed. He knew she was making an effort to keep him informed of everything even though he didn't want to be there.

“Do you need anything?” he asked her.

“There's an urgent visitor for you” Yuna pressed her lips together, a little hesitant. Jongseong frowned for a moment, not remembering anyone who was an urgent visitor for him.

“Is this another one of Jaeyun’s works? Because if it is…” when Yuna didn’t answer, Jongseong knew his best friend was involved in this. He sighed heavily, taking his hands away from the computer and throwing his head back. “Okay, send Jaeyun’s visitor in, then.”

The last time Jaeyun had mentioned an urgent visitor, he had taken Sunghoon and Heeseung into Jongseong’s office so they could drink bottles of soju since he couldn’t leave until he signed the last report of the week. He didn’t want to drink right now, no drop of alcohol would be able to take away what he was feeling. He appreciated his best friend’s attempts even if he didn’t know if it would work this time.

But Jongseong should also know that Jaeyun never messed around. Not when it came to getting what he wanted since the two had become friends since they were little. When he heard Jaeyun say that he would get out of that office at any cost, he didn't know that the boy would appeal and call for you. You were standing at the door of Jongseong's office now.

“Make yourself at home, Miss Y/n” Yuna’s voice brought Jongseong back to reality as soon as she said your name, waving in your direction and smiling widely as she left you there, closing the door to leave just you and him inside the room.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” he almost stumbled over his own words, stuttering a little as he abruptly got up from the table, dropping some papers. Jongseong tried to fix some strands of his hair, which was certainly more disheveled than when he woke up.

“Jaeyun called me” as he heard your voice for the first time, almost like a song hypnotizing him, Jongseong walked around the table and approached you in slow steps. Looking your body up and down, your loose and casual clothes, just as he remembered, making you so beautiful that he swore he felt his heart swell even more. “Aren’t you eating, Jongseong?”

Now his heart could shrink in size when he heard you call him Jongseong again, falling back into the reality of the state you two were in at that moment. But he didn't care, he wanted to be close to you, so he stopped in front of you and let you look at him.

Apart from you, only Jaeyun was capable of that, of looking so closely. So he let you examine every particle of his face. From his unkempt skin to his tired eyes. His disheveled hair and his shirt looked like they hadn't been ironed or cared for in a few days as if Jongseong had just taken the same fabric and put it on in the rush of the moment.

“Sorry, I—” his adam's apple moved as he searched for the right words to answer you, feeling his eyes burn when he looked at you so closely “I don't want to leave the office, so…”

“So you're leaving now” you wanted to be firm at that moment, but you were as broken as he was.

When Jaeyun called you and asked for help, you had already been planning to see Jongseong for a few days. Your anger had already passed and you managed to cool your head about everything that had happened, talking to Bonnie and listening to the story Jaeyun told her about what had happened. It matched exactly what you saw from the beginning. Jongseong was not and never had been a cheater and a betrayer, you knew that. But your emotions were so intense that you could only think of the worst and wanted to push him away, although you didn't know that the result of that would be the man in front of you like that.

“What?” he asked.

“Let's go home” Jongseong almost moaned tearfully when your hand touched his face, letting a tear escape due to the sudden contact. Pulling his face close, you felt his forehead touch yours “You go take a shower, I'll cook something and then we can talk, okay?”

“As you wish” he replied, his voice choked and his breath mixed with yours due to the closeness you two were in.

You reluctantly walked away, looking around and sighing at the carelessness of the place Jongseong had left. You felt guilty for getting him into that state, all it took was one phone call for him to come and meet you and the two of you to sort things out. But you also knew that if you had done it earlier, it might not have been the right time and you both might not be able to talk. You preferred not to think about what could have been and just focus on what was happening now.

Jongseong approached the chair and grabbed his blazer, throwing it over his arm and turning off the computer screen. Spreadsheets and files were being saved automatically and he wouldn't have to worry about that, because he was finally leaving his office with you.

Your steps were slow in front of him as if you were waiting for him to catch up with you until you reached the door to his office. Looking over your shoulder, you gave a small smile when you saw him standing right behind you. Then your actions were almost automatic, reaching out your hand for Jongseong to hold. He intertwined his fingers with yours. Your soft, velvety skin contrasted with the roughness of his hand, sending a shiver through both of your bodies.

Your grip between his fingers was enough to make Jongseong smile a little, his heart almost jumping out of his mouth at your smile for him. With your free hand, you opened the door, going out first and taking Jongseong with you out of the room.

“Shit, I knew it” Jaeyun almost shouted along with Yuna when he saw you leave the room hand in hand with Jongseong. The two of them looked like teenagers watching a couple of friends make it work because Jaeyun and Yuna clapped their hands against each other in a funny celebration.

“Yuna?” Jongseong called for the secretary, causing her and Jaeyun’s celebration to be quickly interrupted. “Tomorrow I’m going to take the day off, rest… Can you pass my demands on to Jaeyun?”

“Sure, Mr. Park” she smiled at you and Jongseong. Jaeyun didn’t even care that he would have double the work to do. If that meant his best friend would be resting, then he would be fine.

“Thank you” Jaeyun hissed at you as Jongseong turned his back to head to the company elevators. You thanked him back, waving to Yuna as well and following Jongseong to the path he needed to take.

A lighter mood settled between the two of you and even spread to Jaeyun and Yuna. The boy was right when he said that you would be the one to get Jongseong out of that place. He should have bet with Yuna that this would happen because he would have won. But the only thing he got was extra work for an entire day.

But as Jaeyun thought, he wasn’t going to complain about that. His best friend’s rest, combined with the well-being of his relationship, was all the boy wanted to happen.

Vulnerability was something that wasn't part of Jongseong's vocabulary until he met you. Before, he was able to handle professional pressures well, finding some amusement when people in the business flirted with him or Jaeyun. Nothing had ever happened, they were both too professional for that, but it always ended up being a topic of conversation for Jongseong the next morning. He also didn't let the few breakups he had gotten him down, managing to settle down and focus on what was most important: his company with Jaeyun.

But as soon as he met you, a lot of things started to change. Jongseong couldn't find people's boldness funny anymore, although he preferred to keep his personal life very private. He didn't cut Jaeyun off when his best friend said that the future Mrs. Park would be waiting. No partner or investor knew your name, but they knew about you just by the way he talked about you.

Jongseong also didn't know if those two weeks had been a real breakup between you and him or if it was just time you needed to get your head together. The only thing he was sure of was that it had hurt him in a way he had never been able to feel before. The anguish and fear of losing you were overwhelming. Jongseong didn't know what to do or what to think, leaving almost all the time lost in thoughts about you and being guided by Jaeyun when he needed some direction in the middle of work for a few minutes.

But as soon as you showed up at his office, showing concern and that you were there, he was able to respond with relief. Driving home with you in the passenger seat, constantly hearing you ask if he was hungry and what he wanted to eat. That was the most distant dream he had ever imagined living with you. The little things – after such a difficult time – made the boy feel luckier and luckier.

He came out of the shower with damp hair after what seemed like an eternity between going to the market to buy what was missing – Jongseong ignored your scolding after he said he hadn't done any food shopping in those two weeks – and arriving carrying the groceries, leaving you in the kitchen to prepare everything. He wanted to go with you, to watch you cook what you two had agreed on. But he also didn't want to be a hypocrite and say he wasn't tired. All the adrenaline mixed with all the distressing feelings Jongseong felt during that time were replaced by the calm that your presence brought to him, so taking a long shower was the only thing he should be concerned about at that moment. Your words after he went upstairs to his room.

Now that everything was finished, he could go down and meet you in the kitchen, guided by the delicious smell of curry that couldn't be missing from that recipe. Jongseong tried not to make any noise as he came down and stopped at the kitchen door, watching you. The care with which you prepared, your quick smiles as you chopped up a spice or added another ingredient to the pan. That was more valuable than anything he could ever have in life.

“Jongseong, what a scare!” you said as soon as you noticed his presence, making his smile widen even more. Taking slow steps, he entered the kitchen and walked a little further until he stopped next to you. Leaning his forehead on your shoulder and inhaling your scent now. The scent he missed even more if he had to admit it. “Are you hungry?” you asked.

“A little” he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his hands on your belly and breathing slowly. “Is it ready yet?”

“Yes, I promise” You smiled even though he wasn’t seeing it. Your speed in the kitchen was enviable, but he knew you did everything in the best way you could just so he could get out of the shower with the food already prepared, needing a real meal.

Between the moment he hugged you and the moment the meal was finally ready, everything passed like a blur for Jongseong. Eating in silence by your side, enjoying the good food and the glances and smiles at each other. He made sure to hold your hand between bites, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb and listening to you sigh beside him, everything so perfectly that if it had been Jongseong's delusion and he was still in the office, he wouldn't want to wake up.

“You—” he started to say, you were focused on putting the dishes in the sink and soon turned to him after the two of you finished eating “Do you mind spending the night here with me?”

He looked away after asking, afraid of any reaction from you. Jongseong took a step back to give you space in case you wanted to leave, but he was surprised when he heard you call him slowly.

“Do you want to go upstairs to rest now?” your question could already be a complete answer to him, Jongseong wouldn't even argue anymore. You would stay, he was sure of it.

Pulling you close to him by holding one of your hands, he was content to just guide you to the bedroom upstairs. Without saying a single word for fear he would ask you something and you would go back and leave him there alone. Jongseong wouldn't be able to face that house without you for so long. Even though you didn't live with him yet, at least before your visits were frequent, maybe even overnight stays. But for two weeks, you both lost that.

As soon as you both entered the bedroom, he went straight to the closet to look for something. You waited patiently, walking around the bed and going near the table where he usually got ready before going to work or going out. The smell of the mix of strong perfumes with Jongseong's after-shower scent was incredible. Everything in that room screamed his name and how the particularities of a serious man were completely guarded when he was with you.

“Here it is” he approached you, a piece of cloth in his hands that was only identified by your eyes when he stopped in front of you. It was one of the loose shirts he lent you to wear when you slept here.

No expensive pajamas or lace things, he knew that, your essence could not be bought. And he didn’t even want to. It was this difference between you and him that made the boy fall even more in love with you.

In silence, you began to undress, not caring about Jongseong’s eyes on your body or any corner he wanted to stare at. You, on the other hand, never took your eyes off his face. Wanting to catch every and any reaction as you took off your clothes, remaining only in your panties. Taking the shirt from his hand and easily pulling it over your head and letting the fabric fall on your body.

“Let’s lie down, you need it” you whispered to him, looking him up and down and seeing the small effect you began to have on him. Between the sweetness of the relationship between the two of you, you knew that you were the one who provoked Jongseong the most in this regard, and being away for so long was also making you miss him just as much as he missed you.

Feeling the soft fabric of his bed sheets and the blankets covering the two of you, Jongseong sighed. A sigh of relief as he wrapped one of his arms around your waist and pulled you close. His lips rested on your forehead before lowering his face and resting his forehead against yours this time.

“Do you want to listen to me now?” Jongseong asked you, trying to ignore the provocation from a few minutes ago and focus on something else. Maybe this conversation would be a good one.

“I… would love to” you pondered, but you knew he wanted to talk and that you had come there to talk too. So you let him tell you everything. Every little detail from the first word about how things happened.

You wouldn't hide from him that you had heard this from Jaehyun and Bonnie too, and how you had seen the scene from the beginning. But it happened like a shock and just like Jongseong, you had never experienced that kind of thing in a relationship. Not that you had many, but all the bad feelings invaded you, and dealing with it was something you couldn't do. So those two weeks had been frustrating, but at the same time necessary for you to think.

After all, your relationship with Jongseong was different from everything you and he had ever experienced before. The things that happened had to be dealt with between the two of you, so asking for his help or leaning on him on those occasions was the right thing to do.

“Thank you” he said after a while, his eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips, searching for any sign that you wanted to talk more or that you regretted talking to him. But the lightness in his expression said otherwise.

“For what, exactly?” you asked.

“For coming here and talking to me” Jongseong began speaking, his grip on your waist slowly softening and giving way to a caress with his fingertips as he lifted the fabric of your shirt to touch your skin. “For taking such good care of me” that innocent and sweet whisper went straight to your heart, but his hands against your skin were doing something else to you.

You had to act fast, not stay behind. The conversation between you had already happened and you needed to take care of him completely.

“But I didn’t take care of you enough” you whispered, feeling Jongseong’s affection stop quickly.

“What? What do you mean—” when your lips pressed against his, he knew what you were talking about.

Letting you kiss him now was the only thing he could handle. Your tongue slowly entered his mouth as Jongseong returned to caressing your waist, pulling your face closer, and pressing you against his chest. In that kiss, everything you two felt for each other during your relationship was transmitted, in addition to what you deprived each other of when you were apart.

Your hands slowly moved towards his chest, making their way slowly to tease him as you guided yourself to the drawstrings of the sweatpants he wore. Jongseong could only sigh and moan against your mouth, the feeling of your hand on his body sending electric shocks through every little fiber of his being.

In a slow but deliberate movement, Jongseong got between your legs and let you continue the path of your hand to his pants. Keeping up with your rhythm as his hands moved up the shirt you were wearing, revealing every part of your skin to him.

Jongseong ran his teeth over your lower lip, sucking on the fleshy flesh of your mouth when your hand finally found his cock still covered by his underwear. Moaning into your mouth had become a habit ever since you kissed him in bed. He made no effort to hide the sounds that were being caused by you. As soon as your hand grabbed the outline of his cock, Jongseong slowly ground his hips to force the length into your palm, so small and yet so strong against his throbbing cock.

“Fuck, Y/n” he moaned as he pulled away from your mouth, his chapped lips shiny with saliva sliding over your skin until they found their way to your neck. Placing small kisses on the area, going down to the particular spot between your neck and your earlobe, Jongseong left a small hickey. Smiling against your skin when you moaned in response, tightening your fingers around his cock.

“Jongseong, please” you asked hoarsely, right after your moan and trying not to falter in your tone. Knowing how impossible it was he teased you even more.

At your request, Jongseong lifted your shirt to below your breasts, enough so that the full view of your belly and panties were exposed to him. With his free hand, he took your hand off his dick and lowered his sweatshirt until he kicked it off his feet, leaving only the underwear and shirt he was still wearing.

“What do you want?” he asked, aligning the outline of his dick still covered by his underwear perfectly with the lips of your pussy covered by your wet and shiny panties. The shape was visible due to your arousal.

“I want—” you moaned loudly when the head of Jongseong’s dick hit your clit. It was sensitive and swollen, and you wanted nothing more than to be touched, but with that attitude, you knew your boyfriend had other plans.

“I asked…” Jongseong pressed his cock deeper into your clothed pussy, his slit covered in precum mixing with your essence as it made your panties even wetter along with his boxers. “What do you want?”

For lack of response, he knew the effect it had when he teased you like that. But Jongseong didn’t want things to end so quickly, so he lowered his boxers just enough to release his throbbing, aching cock. With the same hand, he traced the outline of your crotch where your panties were clinging, feeling the essence dripping from how wet you were.

He looked down for a moment, his fingers becoming almost transparent from how wet you were as he pulled your panties away. With his free hand, Jongseong ran his cock along the side of your panties, feeling the pressure of the fabric as he managed to place his length right above your clit.

“Fuck, you’re not going to— You’re not going to tease me like that” you whimpered a little too late because Jongseong began to thrust his hips slowly, making your pussy soak his entire length. With each touch of his cockhead to your clit, you wanted to cry out from the stimulation.

Jongseong swallowed a loud moan, the noise of excitement growing more intense as he soaked his entire cock in your pussy, his hips slowly moving enough.

“Why, hm?” he asked, his gaze lifting to yours as he picked up the pace. Your fucked out face could make Jongseong cum right there, without even having penetrated you yet. Your legs gripped tightly to his hips, following along as he moved back and forth, his cock stuck between your wet pussy and your panties that were starting to get stickier and stickier, almost transparent.

You pulled Jongseong by the neck, joining your lips to his as you felt him pick up the pace. The sound of his wet movements turned you on even more. His cock moved up and down your pussy as his pelvis reached its limit, only for you to soak his cock all over before his hips came back and did it all over again.

Your lungs screamed for air, but you didn't want to let his mouth go, so you kept it there just to feel Jongseong sharing the same air as you. Your brow furrowed as his pace became faster, more urgent. The shape of his mouth molding to yours, the side of his nose pressing against yours, and your foreheads still together as the two of you synchronized the movements of your hips.

Even though his cock wasn't inside you, Jongseong knew every sign your body had before he came. Every clench your pussy made around nothing and every slow spasm you indicated when you were close. Along with that, his shallow thrusts became erratic, and his nibbling on your lower lip became frantic.

“Jongie” you moaned, a request you didn’t know what it was. If it was for him to let you cum, if it was for him to not stop. You didn’t know, you could have a little bit of everything.

“Yeah, baby?” Jongseong kept his lips close to yours, his gaze never leaving yours because he wanted to look at you when you came.

“Don’t stop” you begged.

“I wasn’t intending to” he smiled with his mouth anchored to yours, his movements a little faster.

Jongseong’s thumb went to the base of his cock, making the completely wet glans – he couldn’t tell what was his pre-cum or his essence anymore – slide over your clit and down your pussy to your hole. He circled it once before penetrating you without any warning.

“Holy shit” you screamed at the sudden intrusion.

“Cum on my dick, baby” he begged, this time with a single strong thrust so that the head of his cock kissed your cervix, where he could reach.

The way your pussy tightened around his cock after so much stimulation and with just one thrust, you came like you had never done before. The trembling of your pussy walls was enough for Jongseong to cum in thick, strong jets inside you. The amount surprised him because he still came as he continued thrusting into you, hearing your whimpers knowing he was already overstimulating you.

Slowly he stopped moving his hips, the last drop of his cum inside you was released, and only then was Jongseong able to rest his body on yours, hugging you without pulling out of you yet.

“That was…”

“Intense” you finished his sentence, running your hands up your boyfriend’s strong arms until you held his face between your hands. The tender and calm look you gave him was nothing compared to what the two of you had shared seconds before.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked you, still panting as he struggled to pull out of your pussy. It was so warm and sheltering him so well, he didn’t want to leave anytime soon.

“Sure, whatever you want” you said.

He seemed to think about it for a moment, smiling slowly as he pulled out of you, careful not to overstimulate you. You both moaned together at the abandonment of your hips, but as soon as Jongseong’s body fell beside you, exhausted, you snuggled up to him and buried your face in the crook of his neck. His scent calmed you down a little more as your breathing became normal.

“Don’t ever call me Jongseong again” he said in a whisper, running the tip of his nose through your hair as his hands rested on your back.

You laughed softly but stopped when he slapped your ass and pulled you closer to him.

“I’m serious, it’s not nice and—”

“I know” your lips kissed him as you lifted your face, looking at him properly. “I won’t do it again. Only if you deserve it.”

“I promise, I won’t do anything to deserve it, love” Jongseong pouted, and you swore it was the most adorable thing in the world.

Because everyone knew Park Jongseong, and here, he was just your Jongie. Your boyfriend, and the man of your life.

© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

[flickering-chandelier]

Was Any Of It True?

Pairing: badboy!Azriel x goodgirl!Reader

Summary: Modern/College AU! Az’s on-again-off-again girlfriend gives Azriel a proposition: make the new bookworm fall in love with him, then break her heart, in exchange for anything he wants. He agrees, but things get complicated when he falls for Reader for real.

Based on this request! 🩷

✨ Part 2 ✨ Part 3 ✨

Warnings: angst, sexual language?, swearing, Azriel & friends being assholes

Word Count: 10.2k   oh lord sorry besties I couldn’t shut my little brain off

“I'm telling you, Az, she's pissing me off. The professor loves her, and I saw that she got a 100 on the exam,” Claire was seething while she and Azriel lounged in his apartment, eating the pizza he'd ordered.

“Mhmm,” he mumbled around his pizza, only half listening. Claire was always complaining about something. “And what did you get?”

“98! He took two points off because I didn't answer thoroughly enough,” she scoffed. “God, I hate her. She's going to push me right off the top of the Dean's list.”

Azriel blinked. “I mean, you'll still be very near the top of the list.”

Claire groaned, throwing her napkin onto her paper plate angrily, “That's not good enough!”

He rolled his eyes and she glared at him. “Don't be an ass! This is a big deal to me.”

“Oh, I know it is. This girl is all you talk about.”

“Because I hate her. Maybe if she got laid, she’d be distracted enough to slip up once in a while,” she grumbled.

“Yeah, maybe,” Azriel said, pulling his laptop out of his backpack and setting it on the table, a sufficient signal that he didn’t want to talk about his girlfriend’s arch nemesis anymore. 

No more than a week later, Azriel’s on-again-off-again girlfriend was off-again, and honestly, he was relieved. Claire’s obsession with being at the top of the academic food chain was bordering on insanity, and he was glad he didn’t have to hear about it anymore.

He was currently at a house party that Cassian had dragged him to, with a blonde girl that he couldn’t remember the name of sitting in his lap, one of her arms draped behind his neck, the other resting on his chest. She had been whispering in his ear all the things that she wanted to do to him, before Cassian interrupted, handing Azriel a shot with a grin. 

Blondie scowled at Cassian, who just smirked back as the girl that Cass had been talking to earlier sidled up next to him, wrapping her arms around his middle. 

Azriel knocked the shot back and handed the cup it had come in to the blonde girl. “Can you get me another one?”

She seemed annoyed, but took the cup from him anyway, striding into the kitchen. 

“Sorry for interrupting,” Cassian said, settling on the couch next to him, before pulling the girl onto his lap.

Azriel rolled his eyes. “Like I give a shit.”

Cassian snickered as the blonde girl came back, draping herself in his lap again, handing him another shot. He drank it, just as Claire appeared before him, her arms crossed over her chest, and her brow furrowed.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice husky.

“I have a proposition for you.”

He smirked, making a show of tightening his grip on the blonde girl’s waist. “No, thanks. Been there, done that.”

“Not that kind of proposition, you idiot. Can we talk privately? I think it’ll be worth your while,” she said, her lips turning up into a sultry smile.

“I don’t know, Claire, I’m pretty busy right now,” he said, turning his gaze to the blonde girl, squeezing her thigh. She sighed dreamily, leaning further into him.

Claire groaned. “Look, Az, I really need your help. Please?” 

Azriel studied Claire, and he could see that it was true. She was wearing her most annoyed, don’t-fuck-with-me face, but her eyes were pleading. Sad.

He sighed, glancing apologetically at the girl in his lap before turning back to Claire. “Fine, we can talk.”

She led him into someone’s empty bedroom and shut the door behind her. 

“If this is about that girl you’re obsessed with, so help me,” he said. She winced, and he threw his head back. “Unbelievable. Claire, I don’t want to hear about this anymore! I don’t care about your problems.”

“Just hear me out!”

He crossed his arms over his chest, and raised an eyebrow at her, waiting.

“She actually is threatening my spot on the Dean’s list now,” she said, looking close to tears.

He looked pointedly at her. “And?”

“And I was thinking about what I said earlier… about how if a really hot guy was interested in her, maybe she would stop caring about her grades so much,” she said, smiling at him now.

“And?” Azriel just wished she would get to the point.

Claire sighed, exasperated. “I need you to seduce her.”

Azriel barked out a laugh, leaning his shoulder against the nearest wall. “You’re kidding, right? Why would I do that?”

She stepped closer to him, trailing a finger along his chest, her touch feather-light through his black t-shirt. She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, “Because I asked? Because I’ll give you anything you want,” she said, her voice dropping seductively.

He held her gaze, leaning down until their mouths were a breath away. Azriel heard her breath hitch.

Then he pulled away rapidly, and she blinked. “Sweetheart, you know I can fuck you anytime I want, right? That is not going to persuade me to help you.”

Her brow furrowed, her nose scrunching up. Oh, she was furious. Azriel's mouth turned up into his calculated half smile.

“What do you want, Az?” she huffed.

“Hmm,” he said, taking his time to think. Claire scowled. “I haven’t decided yet. But when I need to call in a favor of my own, you have to promise to do it. No matter what,” he drawled.

To her credit, she really looked like she was thinking it through, trying to think of another way to push this girl off the list. But finally, she sighed. “Deal.”

He pushed off the wall, walking towards the door. “Alright, so I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.”

Claire shook her head, her eyes still alight with her anger. “No, if I’m going to agree to any favor you could possibly want, you’re going to have to go further. You need to make her fall in love with you.”

Azriel bristled a bit, leaning against the door now. “I know I’m an asshole, but that seems too far, don’t you think?”

“No. If she’s going to be distracted enough that her grades will slip, you need to make it seem real,” she said, and then smiled as if she had a wicked thought.

“What?” Azriel asked.

“And then you break her heart, right before exams,” she said excitedly, her eyes burning with enthusiasm now. “You tell her, in front of everyone, that it was all fake.”

He rubbed at his bicep, a nervous tic that Claire picked up on immediately. “Jesus, Claire. I don’t want to ruin this girl’s life.”

She arched her brow. “Why not? She’s ruining mine.”

Azriel rolled his eyes and Claire pounced, “Any favor, Az. Any time, you can tell me to do whatever you want,” she smirked. 

He groaned, pinching his nose. “Fine,” he ground out. “Where do I find her?”

Claire beamed. “Where else would a nerd be? The library, of course.”

---

You shifted in your seat, starting to feel sore after poring over your notes for hours. Maybe you should go for a walk. Maybe. But, you still had so much to do…

Groaning, you crossed your arms on the table, laying your head down on top of them. Just a minute, you just needed a tiny break --

“Studying always makes me feel like that, too,” said a low, male voice. 

You lifted your head, bewildered, and nearly choked on your own spit. The guy who was for some reason deigning to talk to you was… well, what other way was there to say it? He was drop-dead gorgeous. 

His face was stoic as he sauntered up to your table, his jet black hair was just a tad unruly, his hazel eyes burning into yours. But it was his body that made the breath completely escape your lungs. He was dressed in all black, his t-shirt hugging his chest and his biceps, showing off his every muscle, and there were swirling black tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves. 

All you could do was stare as he took the seat across from you, leaning back with his arms crossed like the two of you did this every day.

“What class is that for?” he asked, nodding to the textbook open in front of you, the dozens of papers scattered around you.

“Organic Chemistry,” you said, trying to sound like you were normal and not completely surprised by this handsome stranger finding you in your favorite quiet corner of the library.

He let out a low whistle, “Damn, you are smart.”

“What, did someone tell you I was?” you asked. 

“No, I just figured when I saw all the --” he gestured to your cluttered workspace, “homework stuff.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Homework stuff?”

His mouth turned up the slightest bit, holding up his hands like he was surrendering. “You caught me. I’m not much of an academic.”

“Then what are you doing here?” you asked curiously.

“Now, that is an excellent question,” he said, and really did seem like he was questioning it. “Girls? Parties? Though I could get girls anywhere and I don't particularly enjoy parties.”

You nodded. “Ah,” you said. “Got it.”

He braced his arms on the table, leaning forward. “I take it you’re not into that kinda thing?”

A dry laugh escaped from your throat, “Definitely not. I’m really only here for the--” you mimicked his gesture from earlier, “homework stuff.”

He barked out a laugh, his stoic face completely transforming for the briefest of moments. You couldn’t help but stare. “You’re telling me all you do is study? A beautiful girl like you? Please tell me you’ve been to at least one party,” he said, looking at you incredulously. 

You blushed. “No, I haven’t been to any.”

You braced yourself for impact, for the teasing or insults to come, but he just smiled softly. “You wanna go to one with me tonight?”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “You don’t even know my name.”

The side of his mouth quirked up into a smile, his eyes dancing with amusement. “What's your name?”

Rolling your eyes, you told him.

“Nice to meet you. I'm Azriel.” He raised his eyebrows, “So? Party?”

“I thought you just said you don't like parties!”

“True, but I do love the thought of corrupting a sweet, innocent bookworm,” he smirked.

“No, thanks.” You couldn't imagine yourself going to a house party, especially not with a stranger.

Azriel's cool-guy demeanor seemed to drop the slightest bit. “Why not?”

You looked at him pointedly. “I don't know you. And I have no interest in being corrupted. Why do you want me to come to this party so badly anyway?”

He shrugged casually. “I like you.”

“You don't know me!”

“See, that, right there,” he snapped his fingers and pointed at you. “You're funny. Smart, beautiful. What's not to like?”

You forced yourself to hold his gaze, even as a blush rose to your cheeks. “I'm not going to a party with someone I don't know. They make true crime documentaries about that sort of thing.”

He seemed to contemplate that for a moment. “Okay, you make a fair point. What do you want to do then?”

“What do you mean?”

“You can pick our first date, since you didn't like my idea.”

“What date?” You blanched.

He arched an eyebrow. “Our first date? Weren't you listening?”

You studied him for a moment. For the life of you, you could not figure out what this guy's angle was. 

As if reading your mind, he said softly, “Look, I just saw you and thought you were really pretty, and that it looked like you could use a break from studying. That's it,” he held his hands up again. “I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. If you want me to go, I'll go.”

For a beat longer, you watched him, his body language, his ridiculously pretty face. What was the harm, really? You sighed, tore off a scrap of paper from your notebook, scribbled out your number, then handed it to him. “I need to study. If you text me later, I'll let you know where we're going on the first date.” 

His face broke out into what might have been the first genuine smile you'd seen from him. He took the paper from you, his fingers brushing against yours.

“Can't wait.”

You were half expecting to never hear from Azriel again. But just a few hours later, as you were eating dinner in your apartment, your phone chimed with a text. 

Az: Done studying yet?

It was an effort to bite down your smile. 

You: Taking a break for dinner. 

It was less than a minute before he responded. 

Az: Dinner? Is that what our first date is going to be?

You didn’t try to hide your smile this time.

You: A little cliche, don’t you think?

Az: Oh, absolutely. So… what are we doing?

You: Meet at the tennis courts at 7 tomorrow?

Az: We’re playing tennis?

You: No, but I’m not giving you my address. And I’m not giving away the surprise.

Az: So smart. So mysterious. I’m swooning.

You: Shut up.

Az: See you tomorrow ;)

You tossed your phone to the side, forcing yourself to focus back on your schoolwork.

The following day you parked your car by the empty tennis courts on campus just before 7. It was early spring; the weather finally started to warm up enough to not be too chilly in the evening. Still, you rubbed your arms nervously. You were starting to regret this. You didn’t know this guy at all. What if it went horribly wrong?

Before you could contemplate bailing, a familiar figure rode up on a jet black motorcycle. Of course this guy had a motorcycle. You couldn't see his face underneath the helmet, but you would already recognize those tattooed arms anywhere. 

He parked his bike, smoothly sliding off it and taking his helmet off before sauntering over to you. “Hey, beautiful.” 

You rolled your eyes, sure that he had said that to a million girls on a million dates before.

“What? Don’t do that,” he said softly, his smile softening and his gaze raking down your body. “You are beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly, giving in. 

“So,” he said, towering over you. “What’s the plan?”

You smiled. “How’s your mini golf game?”

He raised an eyebrow, looking a little skeptical. “Mini golf? That’s what you’re choosing?”

“Yes, it is. Do you have something to say about that?” you teased. 

His eyes sparked at the tone in your voice. “Nope. Nothing at all.” He nodded to his motorcycle. “You wanna hop on the bike?”

You looked pointedly at him and he laughed. “Didn’t think so,” he gestured to your car. “Lead the way.”

Your nerves started to dim as the two of you fell into a rhythm going through the course. The two of you were just talking and laughing like it was normal. It was… fun, actually.

“Shit,” Azriel muttered as he overshot the hole. Again.

You laughed and his eyes flicked over to you, lingering a bit. “You’re good at this, bookworm,” he said as he took another shot, sinking it into the hole this time. You watched, leaning against your putter, having finished that hole two shots ago. 

Shrugging, you said, “I used to go with my family a lot.”

He placed his hand on the small of your back as you walked to the next hole. You cleared your throat, focusing on your steps, on your breathing, on anything but how it felt to have him touch you so casually. “What about you?”

“What about me?” he asked as you dropped your ball onto the green. 

You took your shot before you answered. The ball landed just shy of the hole. “What’s your family like?”

“My family…” he trailed off, clearing his throat, setting up his shot. He paused to look at you for a moment before he swung. “It’s complicated.”

He hit the ball and it stopped right next to yours. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” you said, as the two of you walked further down the hole.

“No, you didn’t. It’s just… I don’t really talk about them with anybody.”

You nodded, not sure where to go from here.

Azriel smiled reassuringly, nudging you lightly with his shoulder. “Stop worrying.”

“I’m not worrying,” you claimed, your voice an octave too high. 

“You are. I can tell.”

You bit your lip to hide your smile as you sunk your ball into the hole.

“I think I’m going to need some pointers from you on the next hole,” he grumbled. 

“I guess I could help you out,” you laughed. 

So, when you got to the next hole, the last hole, he stepped so close that your bodies were nearly touching. You tried to control your breathing. 

“You’re gonna help me out?” he murmured, his eyes flashing down to your lips for a moment. 

“Okay,” you breathed. 

He stepped behind you, his body pressed against your back, wrapping his arms around you, his hands covering yours on the club. 

“How is this going to help you, exactly?” you asked, your voice slightly unsteady. 

His lips brushed your ear as he said, “Oh, trust me, it’s helping.”

You couldn’t say anything. Could hardly breathe.

“What do you think I’m doing wrong?” He murmured. 

You swallowed. “You’re hitting it too hard. Not exactly rocket science.”

“Mmm. That makes sense. I do tend to go… hard.”

That finally had you coming to your senses. You stepped out of his grasp, turning back to glare at him when you were a safe distance away. 

The side of his mouth turned up into a smile. “Sorry. I couldn't help myself.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him again. “Just take your shot.”

He smirked at you for a moment, before he swung, and the ball went right into the hole. 

He turned to you, his eyes wide. You laughed and he hugged you, picking you up and spinning you around. 

You let out an involuntary squeal of surprise, and he laughed, gazing into your eyes as he set you back on the ground. “Thanks for the help.”

“I think you’ve been playing me this whole time,” you joked. 

His smile fell a little, his eyes sobering. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. When he just stared at you, his expression unreadable, you added, “Azriel, I was joking.”

He blinked and then his natural, stoic expression was back as he took a step closer to you. “Right. I think you’re just a good teacher.”

You just looked at him, trying to decipher the changes in his mood, who he really was underneath the gruff exterior.

He smiled faintly, stepping even closer. “What are you thinking about?”

You had to crane your neck to look him in the eye now. “I'm trying to figure out what you're thinking about.”

Azriel's smile turned into a smirk. “I'm thinking… that I really want to kiss you. But I don't want to scare you away.”

Heat flooded your face and his smile turned softer as he cupped your cheek gently with a rough hand. “Would it scare you away?” He murmured.

“I -- don't know,” you said honestly.

His hazel eyes dipped to your lips and stayed there. “I think I'm gonna have to take the risk,” he said, his voice low, husky.

“I think so, too,” you breathed.

His free hand slinked around your waist, gently pulling your body into his. Your heart thundered in your chest as he leaned down, slowly bringing his lips to yours. He seemed to give you a moment to process, and you felt him smile against your mouth when you started to kiss him back, your fingers curling around his bicep, his shoulder.

You were breathless by the time he pulled away, and as the two of you drove back to the tennis courts, you couldn't help but hope that it would happen again by the end of the night.

When you parked your car near his motorcycle in the abandoned lot, he lingered, his gaze holding yours, dropping to your mouth again.

He shot you a crooked smile. “Aren't you gonna walk me to my bike?”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you got out of the car, walking over to the motorcycle and settling against the fence near it, crossing your arms over your chest. “Happy now?” You asked.

Slowly, he sauntered over to you, his eyes twinkling under the stars. He raised his arm, twining his fingers in the chain link fence above your head, leaning his body towards you, but not quite touching. He gazed down at you, still sporting that half smile. “Very happy,” he murmured.

Your breath hitched and when his smile widened, you knew he heard it. 

He held your gaze as he leaned down, bringing his mouth to yours again. You let yourself fall deeper into the kiss this time, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into you. 

When he finally pulled away, he was grinning. “Want to go for a ride before you head home?” He said, nodding to his motorcycle.

You had stepped far enough out of your comfort zone for today. “Maybe next time.”

He raised his eyebrows in amusement. “So you're giving me a next time?”

Damn. You blushed. “I said maybe.”

“Uh huh, sure,” he said, leaning in again so his lips were barely an inch from yours. “You can't wait to see me again,” he whispered.

You shoved him away lightly and he chuckled, backing up towards his bike, but keeping his eyes on you. “Until next time, then. Have a good night, bookworm.” He winked before putting his helmet on and speeding away.

A few weeks, a few dates, and several kisses later, you couldn't deny that Azriel was on your mind quite a bit.

You had never thought that someone like him would be interested in someone like you, but he seemed to prove time and time again that he did indeed like you. He texted you flirty little things every day, making you blush in class. He asked about your day, and seemed to genuinely be listening, and he would do pretty much anything you wanted on your dates. Last week, the two of you had gone to a local bookstore and he had watched you browse, a small smile on his face. He ended up picking out a book he wanted you to read and you did the same for him. He had been sending you daily updates on his progress through the book. Slowly, you were starting to let your walls down, despite yourself.

So, when he asked you to finally go to a party with him, to meet his friends, you accepted. You still felt cautious: partying had never been something that you were remotely interested in, but you trusted him.

---

Azriel knew he had to tread this next part carefully. Things had been going well with you. He let you take control of your time together so you would be comfortable, and honestly, he was actually having a really good time getting to know you and seeing where you would take him next.

And when you kissed him… God. It was always a struggle to keep his hands on your waist, to stay PG. He wished he could explore things further with you in that regard, but he wouldn't let himself go there. Not when your broken heart was the finish line.

He rarely let himself think about it -- the deal that he had made with Claire. Being with you felt so natural that he usually forgot he was supposed to be acting. That he was supposed to be leading you to Claire’s revenge.

He had convinced you to come to a party, upon Claire's request so she could see the progress he had made with you. You had said yes, he assumed because you trusted him enough now. The thought made his stomach roll. He was really starting to hate himself for getting mixed up in this.

Azriel acted differently around you than he did around the rest of the general population. At a young age he had learned to keep quiet, to not show a single emotion on his pretty face, to be tough, or be punished. 

With you… he couldn't help but smile. Couldn't stop the laughs that he usually stomped down for the rest of the world.

So, having his two worlds collide at this party…he didn't know exactly how to navigate it. Deep down, it made his heart swell that you trusted him enough to help you navigate something so far out of your comfort zone. But if his friends saw the way he acted around you, he would never hear the end of it.

This would be a mess.

If Azriel wasn't leaning against his motorcycle when you exited your apartment building, he may have fallen over. You were wearing skintight jeans and a black tank top that showed more cleavage than he ever imagined he'd see from you. His fingers flexed on his biceps. He wanted to pull you back into your apartment and spend an hour peeling those clothes away inch by inch.

He blinked the lust away, trying to maintain his stoic expression, but failed, as he always did with you. He smiled at you and you smiled back. 

He could tell by the way you carried yourself as you neared him that you were nervous. “Hey, beautiful,” he drawled his usual greeting as you wrapped your arms around his waist in your usual greeting.

“Hi,” you said, a little sheepishly. His eyes must have lingered on your curves a little too long because your eyes widened a bit, and you bit your lip nervously as you pulled away from him. He nearly groaned. “Is it too much? Do I look stupid?”

Azriel placed his hands on your shoulders gently, dipping his head to look you in the eyes. “You look amazing. Seriously.”

You blushed and murmured, “Thank you.”

He had to turn away, to grab your helmet, so you wouldn't see how much you affected him. He fucking loved it when he made you blush like that. 

Azriel turned back to you, holding up the helmet, his eyebrows raising with amusement. “You ready to join the dark side, bookworm?”

You sighed, shifting on your feet. 

“It'll be okay,” he said softly. “I got you.”

You nodded, seeming to resolve yourself, and reached for the helmet with slightly shaking hands.

He helped you make sure it was on correctly, his fingers brushing your chin, your neck. He bit back a smile as you shivered.

Azriel held your hand as you got settled on the back of the bike, showing you where to put your feet, and how to shift your weight with him.

When you seemed at least somewhat comfortable, he slid his helmet on, smoothly setting onto the motorcycle. You wrapped your arms around his middle, pressing your chest into his back. You were already holding him like your life depended on it, and he beamed freely underneath the helmet.

“Hold on tight,” he shot back at you, before he revved the engine, taking off much more gently than he normally would.

He tried not to think about the feel of you pressed into him, how tightly you were holding on. It didn't work. He wanted to drive you everywhere.

He couldn't resist reaching back to briefly squeeze your thigh at a red light. “How are you doing?”

“Good,” you said. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard a smile in your voice.

Too soon in Azriel's opinion, they had made it to the party. He parked, offering you his hand to help you get down.

When he pulled the helmet off your head, he was pleased to see that you were indeed smiling.

“Have fun?” He smirked.

“I did, actually,” you said, sounding a little breathless. 

“Whenever you need a ride, you just let me know,” he winked.

You laughed, glancing behind him at the house. 

He took your hand in his, squeezing reassuringly. You seemed to relax a bit. “We can leave whenever you want, okay?”

Taking a deep breath, you nodded and smiled nervously up at him.

You were doing this for him, he realized. Because he had asked you to. His heart constricted, guilt churning in his gut again as he led you inside, your hand squeezing his tightly. 

His shoulders tightened as he led you through the crowd, making sure you were tucked in close to him. 

“You want a drink?” he asked, as you made your way to the kitchen.

“Sure,” you said.

He rifled through what was on the sticky counter, trying to find something not disgusting for you to drink, making sure you stayed close to him. 

Finally handing you a cup, he put your hand on the small of your back, guiding you to a corner of the living room that wasn’t yet very crowded. He took a seat on the couch and you settled in next to him, tucked closely into his side. 

You smiled, leaning your shoulder into his. “Is this really it?” You asked skeptically. “You just sit here and drink around a bunch of drunk idiots?”

He laughed before he could stop himself. “I mean, yeah, that’s pretty much it,” he said, dipping his head to say in your ear. “Or we could dance. Or make out,” he smiled against your ear. 

You blushed and he laughed again, kissing your temple. 

Azriel wrapped an arm around your shoulders as Cassian and Rhys showed up, grinning at you, their eyebrows raised. Azriel fought the urge to roll his eyes. They had seen him laughing with you, kissing you, he knew. He had nearly forgotten where he was, why he was here with you. He loved them, but he wasn’t sure what they would say to you about him. They didn’t know about his arrangement with Claire, and he had been keeping details about his relationship with you as vague as possible.

“So you’re the one Az has been spending all his time with,” Cassian grinned. 

You smiled sheepishly, leaning further into Azriel. “I guess.”

Azriel nodded to his friends. “This is Cassian and Rhysand. They’ve been my best friends since we were kids.”

He could tell you were intrigued by that. He still hadn’t told you anything about his childhood. 

Before you could ask any questions, Claire showed up next to Azriel’s friends, her expression the very picture of friendship. It unsettled him so much that he held you closer to him, so you were practically on his lap. 

“Hi Claire,” you smiled, and his heart sank. You really had no idea how Claire felt about you. 

Claire smiled back. “Hey. I never expected to see you here.”

“I’m trying new things,” you said, smiling lightly at Azriel.

He couldn’t take it, having you so close to Claire, seeing that trust you had in him when you looked at him. He cleared his throat, standing up and offering you his hand. You took it, smiling politely at Claire and his friends as he led you through the house, out to the backyard. 

“Is everything okay?” You asked, looking up at him curiously as he leaned his back against the side of the house.

“Yeah,” he said, unable to stop the smile that rose to his face as you gazed at him with your big doe eyes. He tugged you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I just wanted you to myself for a minute.”

“Oh yeah?” you flushed, and before he could stop himself, he kissed your cheeks, feeling the heat against his lips before his lips met yours in a slow, sensual kiss.

He was still kissing you when he heard Cassian snickering close by. “Oh shit, he’s whipped.”

Azriel rolled his eyes as he pulled away from you, but kept his hold on your waist. “How am I whipped?”

Cassian’s eyes gleamed with mischief and Azriel’s heart started to pound. “Sneaking out here on your own. You’re usually content to stay on the couch to make out with your girl of the week.”

Your body tensed in his arms and Azriel groaned internally, glaring at Cassian, who smirked. “Oh, she didn’t know? My bad, Az.”

Azriel’s expression was enough to send Cassian back inside. 

Your brow furrowed as you stepped back, out of his reach. “Girl of the week?”

He winced. “He’s being dramatic.”

You raised your eyebrows, glaring at him, crossing your arms over your chest. 

It was kind of adorable, but Azriel reigned in that comment. He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, look. I told you when we met that I go to parties and meet girls there. But things are different now,” he said, taking a step closer to you. And it was true. Things were different. You had been the one haunting his thoughts since that first date. He had barely looked at anyone else since.

After a moment, you sighed, and he knew you wouldn’t resist when he wrapped his arms back around you. 

“Cassian’s an idiot,” he murmured, his focus back on your lips that he was dying to kiss again.

“So I’m not the girl of the week?” you said quietly, your eyes on his lips now. 

He smiled. “We’ve been seeing each other for several weeks, haven’t we?”

You nodded, biting your lip, before you stood up on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips. Azriel was surprised by his own relief. “Are we going back inside?” you asked. 

“Not if you don’t want to,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist again. 

Pursing your lips in thought, you said, “Mmm. Let’s go back in.”

“Yeah?” he said, surprised.

You smiled up at him, resting your chin on his chest. His heart melted. “I’m trying to be brave.”

He kissed your forehead, smiling faintly. “I’m proud of you, bookworm.”

You beamed, your whole face lighting up. 

Azriel led you inside, his hand on the small of your back, trying to manage the swell of emotions in his chest. He didn’t have the time to process them right now. 

The two of you mingled throughout the party for a few hours, and you even went so far as to dance with him for a bit, your body pressed against his, your hips swaying to the beat of the pounding music. He could hardly believe it, the way you let loose with him.

He stopped in the bathroom before the two of you left. He wasn’t gone for more than a few minutes, but when he returned, he spotted you near the kitchen, backing away from a guy who was clearly very drunk and very horny. Azriel saw red. 

Before he could take a second to think, Azriel was upon the bastard, punching him in the jaw. 

He heard you yelp. The asshole staggered back, swearing, his hand cradling his jaw. Azriel barely spared him a glance, his hands gently holding either side of your face, his gaze raking your body, searching for any sign that he had touched you. 

Your eyes were wide, your breathing labored, but you seemed physically fine. “Are you okay?” he asked. 

You nodded, your eyes still frantic. 

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders as he led you outside. Claire caught his eye on the way out, hers shining with delight. He scowled at her. 

When you made it outside, he hugged you to his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” 

“I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

You snorted. “You were gone for a few minutes. It’s not your fault that men are gross.”

“Are you okay, really?” He asked, pulling back to look you in the eye.

“I’m okay,” you said quietly. 

He held you close to him, gazing at you for another moment before you smiled faintly. “You really didn’t need to punch him, you know.”

He winced slightly, remembering the yelp you let out when he threw that punch. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you said, rising on your tiptoes to kiss him. 

Azriel held you until his heart rate slowed down, until his body was convinced that you were okay.

Later, after he had dropped you off at your apartment, Azriel stayed awake, tossing and turning, so many images from that night racing through his mind.

The way his heart constricted every time you smiled at him, the horror he felt at seeing Claire play nice, the terror and rage that flowed through his entire body when he saw that creep bothering you…

Azriel knew then, that he had real feelings for you. Shit.

---

“C’mon, baby, you’ve been studying for ages already,” Azriel murmured, standing behind you as you sat at your desk in your apartment, his arms draped around your chest, his lips trailing down your neck.

Your toes curled, heat running right through you. You wanted to give in. You really did. But…

You sighed. “I’m sorry, Az. I have this big exam on Tuesday. And finals are only a few weeks away.”

For some reason, that comment made his entire body stiffen. “Oh, yeah. Finals.”

You snorted. “Don’t tell me you forgot about finals.”

“No, I just… they’re soon.” His voice wavered a bit as he stood up fully. You twisted in your seat to look up at him. His brow was furrowed, his eyes swimming with anxiety. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked, reaching up and cupping his cheek with your hand. “Do you need me to help you study?” He had never seemed to care about his grades before.

He leaned into your touch for a moment, shooting you a forced smile. “No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. I should go, and let you study.” He stooped down to press a quick kiss to your lips. “I won’t distract you anymore today.” 

Before you could even respond, he was out the door. 

You turned back to your notes, but couldn’t digest any of the information. That was… weird.

Azriel and you had been dating for months now. Though neither of you had ever put a label on it, you both knew you were exclusive. 

In the privacy of your own mind, you secretly loved that he acted so differently around you than he did out and about on campus. You felt like you got a different version of him that was saved especially for you. It made your heart swell, all the little things he did for you each day. 

You were also willing to admit, to yourself only, that you were absolutely in love with him. You had known for weeks now, and had been debating whether or not you should tell him. 

He had been the one that made you step out of your comfort zone, to try new things, to be brave. 

So, soon. You would tell him soon.

--- 

Azriel had to get out of the deal. Now.

He remembered the exact moment that he realized he was in love with you. It was a random afternoon, the two of you were watching TV at his apartment. He was laying on the couch, you were laying on top of him, your legs intertwined with his, your head on his chest. He was absentmindedly running his fingers through your hair while you giggled about something that happened on the show. 

And he had the thought. I want my whole life to look like this. 

And he knew. He loved you.

This had scared him, obviously, on multiple levels. He had never loved anyone before, never knew what that looked like. Yet somehow, he knew without a doubt that it was true. 

And then, of course, there was the deal he had made with the devil. 

He had known early on that he would have to get out of the deal. He had just been putting it off, hoping that Claire’s insanity would die down throughout the semester. 

But now his time was up. 

He prayed to whoever might be listening that Claire would listen to reason. That she would call it off. He couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you. He wouldn’t do it. 

Claire smirked as she opened the door. “I’ve been wondering when you would show up. It’s been a long time, Az,” she purred. 

Azriel stalked into her apartment, barely sparing her a glance. “The deal’s off, Claire.”

She cocked her head to the side, amused. “Oh? Why is that?”

“Because it’s insane,” he growled. “You were insane for coming up with it, and I was insane for agreeing to it. I’m done.”

Slowly, her lips curled up into a lethal smile. “You fell for her.”

Azriel blinked. 

Claire cackled. “Oh, this is rich. You actually fell for the bookworm? I never thought I’d see the day. No wonder you haven’t been crawling into my bed.”

He scowled. “The deal’s off,” he repeated in the tone he used to scare people away.

She really looked at him then, her eyes bearing into his. After a moment, she finally said, “Okay.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Okay? Just like that?”

Claire shrugged. “You were right. It was an insane plan. And it didn’t even work,” she said bitterly. “You suck at your job. She’ll still be on the top of the Dean’s list, even after all your lovey-dovey shit.”

A swell of pride ran through him at the thought of your name at the top of that list.

“Alright,” he said, his brow furrowed, trying to figure out if there was some kind of angle here. But, there didn’t seem to be one. 

He left quickly, his heart and mind feeling lighter. The guilt of how the two of you started would always be there, he knew. But now when he looked into the future, it wasn’t a hazy blur of nothingness that he saw. It was you.

---

The week before finals, there were parties everywhere. So you heard. 

You had gone to a few more with Az over the past few months. It still wasn’t exactly your thing, but you didn’t mind going, especially with Azriel being so attentive to you every time you did. 

Azriel didn’t seem particularly interested in going to this one, but his friends had been complaining that they never saw him anymore, so he agreed to go. And you had agreed to go with him, if only to take a break from your near constant studying these days.

You followed him through the crowd, his hand clasping yours, as always. Drinks in hand, you made your way to the outskirts of a group of people who were dancing and you joined them, Azriel pulling you in close to him, moving against you.

A laugh burst from you, and Azriel grinned, leaning down to kiss you. 

You were so happy, you thought. So happy in that moment with him. You knew people watched you, as they usually did when Azriel was like this with you. You didn’t care.

When he pulled back from the kiss, he gazed down at you, his eyes swimming with affection. 

“I love you,” you said before you could stop it.

His eyes sobered, and he pulled you in even closer, so your bodies were flush together. He leaned his forehead against yours, and in a crowd of people, Azriel said, a soft smile on his face, “I love you, too.”

Your heart leaped and you grinned, threading your fingers in his hair and bringing his lips to yours. 

Suddenly, the music stopped, and from the TV came a voice. Azriel’s voice. 

Everyone turned to the sound, curiously, watching. The video was jumpy, filming the floor, like it was filmed from someone’s pocket. 

Azriel tensed, his arms still around you. “Fuck,” he said. “We need to go.”

Utterly confused, you didn’t argue as he pulled you through the crowd. But you stopped dead in your tracks when you heard video Azriel say, “Sweetheart, you know I can fuck you anytime I want, right? That is not going to persuade me to help you.”

Your blood ran cold, shock jolting from your heart down to your toes. Azriel was tugging on your arm, but you didn’t budge as you heard Claire’s voice next. 

Claire. He had been talking to Claire. What did he mean, that he could fuck her whenever he wanted? You hadn’t even known that they knew each other. When was this filmed?

“Baby, please, I’ll explain everything, but we need to go,” Azriel was saying, sounding frantic. 

You wrenched your arm from his grasp, weaving through the still crowd, moving toward the TV. You heard him swear, calling your name behind you, but you kept moving.

They were saying something about a deal, about him owing her a favor. You couldn’t make sense of it, not until you heard video Azriel say, “Alright, so I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.”

Video Claire responded, “No, if I’m going to agree to any favor you could possibly want, you’re going to have to go further. You need to make her fall in love with you.”

It was then that you noticed Claire, next to the TV, her eyes locked on you, smirking. 

You couldn’t breathe, your legs were going to give out -- 

It was all fake. All of it. 

Azriel caught up to you then, picking you up, slinging you over his shoulder. You didn’t protest, the shock setting in. You had to get out of there, even if it was him that carried you out. 

When he made it outside, you pounded on his back with your fists. “Put me down, you asshole!”

“Sorry,” Azriel said, wincing as he gently set you on your feet. “You looked like you were going to pass out.”

“Like you even care,” you spat, storming away from him. 

“Of course I care. Please, just give me a minute to explain,” he pleaded, following you. 

“Explain what?” You stopped abruptly, spinning around to face him. “That you played me for a fool? Made me fall in love with you as a sick joke? Well, congratulations, it worked,” you said, pouring every ounce of venom that you could muster into your voice. You turned back around and continued walking as tears started pricking your eyes. You refused to let him see you cry.

“It may have started out that way, but it’s not like that anymore. From the first date, I had feelings for you. I love you. You have to believe that,” he said, right on your heels. 

You knew he could catch up with you easily if he wanted to. He was hanging back, trying to give you your space. That pissed you off even more. “How could I possibly believe that?” 

“Because you feel it, I know you do,” he said, finally wrapping his fingers around your wrist.

You tugged your hand free, but stopped walking, needing to catch your breath. You faced him. “What was the point?” You asked quietly. “Why make the deal?”

It didn’t matter. But you had to know.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Claire and I used to date. When you transferred, you pushed her off the top spot of the Dean’s list. She hated you for it. She said she would give me any favor I wanted if I made you fall for me… to distract you from school.”

You were so surprised that the tears you had been holding in started to fall. You angrily swatted them away. 

Azriel continued, “I said no at first, but she was persistent, and…” he took a deep breath, darting his eyes away from you for a moment. They were shining with unshed tears. “I have no excuse. I agreed to it. I’m an asshole. But you made me want to be different.”

“Was any of it true?” You heard yourself saying, your voice breaking. 

He lifted his hand, like he was about to reach for yours, then let it drop, thinking better of it. “It was all true. From our first date, you were breaking down my walls, making me smile, making me laugh.” He smiled sadly. “I fell for you. I love you,” he said, and now a lone tear did slide down his cheek. “I called it off with Claire ages ago. I told her I was out, and she agreed. I… I didn’t know she filmed it.”

You wanted to believe him, that he really did love you. But… “Even if you do love me, that doesn’t change what you did,” you said in a small voice. 

Azriel sniffed, wiping the tears off his face. “I know. I am so, so sorry.”

Shaking your head, backing away from him, you choked out, “I don’t -- I can’t. I can’t do this right now.”

He took a step toward you, his eyes pleading. “Please. Please don’t go.”

Turning your back to him, you walked away, barely registering the pavement beneath your feet, the direction you were going. 

Azriel called your name, but you kept walking.

You knew he had followed you home, not letting you walk alone at night. You watched his form retreat after you locked yourself inside your apartment with trembling hands. 

You went to bed, not even bothering to change. Laying on your back, watching your ceiling fan spin around and around, you tried to identify all that you were feeling: shame, humiliation, sorrow. Fury. 

Replaying all that had happened between you, all the times he was probably laughing at you with his friends behind your back. You felt nauseous. 

How could he do this? How could he have played you for so long?

What the hell were you supposed to do now?

You woke up to several missed calls and texts from Azriel, all sent hours apart. It seemed that he didn’t get any sleep at all.

I am so sorry. I’m the worst person in the world. I know that. 

I know what you’re thinking right now. I know that you’re going over it all in your head. But, it was real, baby. It was all real. I swear it was. I love you so much.

I’m hoping you’re getting some sleep. Can I see you today?

Groaning, you tossed your phone to the side, and took a long shower. By the time you got out, someone was knocking on your door. 

You quickly dressed in some old pajamas and called through the door, “Go away, Az.”

“Well, at least you’re alive,” you heard him say. “Can I please come in? Two minutes?”

You threw the door open, furious. “No, you cannot come in. You humiliated me. You used me. You had your fun. What else could you possibly want?”

Azriel was standing on the threshold, his hands in his pockets nervously, his facial expression looked like you had just slapped him. “I want to apologize! I want to make things better, that’s what I want.”

Biting your lip to keep from crying, you said quietly, “Go away.” 

His face fell. “I love you.”

Shaking your head, you said, “You don’t.”

He took a step forward, wedging his foot on the door jam so you couldn’t close it on him. “I do,” he said, his eyes pleading, baring into yours. “You know that I do. You know I’ve never let anybody else see the real me. Nobody but you.”

Tears spilled onto your cheeks then, and he wiped them away gently. Despite everything, you couldn’t back away. “It doesn’t matter,” you croaked. “You only went out with me so you could help her ruin my life.”

Azriel opened his mouth, as if to reply, but then shut it. 

You laughed humorlessly. “See? Even you don’t have a comeback.”

His eyes softened, his rough fingers still absentmindedly stroking your cheeks. “Please,” he said again. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not enough,” you whispered, your heart breaking all over again as you looked up at him, at the pain in his eyes.

“How do I fix it?” He whispered back, tears sliding freely down his cheeks now.

“I don’t know,” you said, stepping back out of his grasp. “Please, Az. I just -- I need to be alone right now.”

He nodded, drawing his arm across his face to wipe the tears away. “Okay. Okay, I’ll umm -- I’ll see you later?”

You didn’t know how to answer that, didn’t know if you would see him again at all. He took a step back, into the hallway. 

Without another word, you shut the door.

Especially knowing where that awful bet had originated, you refused to let Azriel and Claire get in your head for finals. You buckled down, spending entire days at the library studying, writing papers, finishing projects. 

It was helpful, actually. You didn’t allow yourself to think about him, about all the memories you had that had become so tainted and confusing. 

By the end of the semester, you had maintained all your A’s, passing every final with flying colors. And thus, secured the very top spot of the Dean’s list.

Azriel had been texting and calling every day. You left them all unanswered. 

You hadn’t yet had time to think, to process through the hurt. 

A new text chimed as you were packing up your car to head home for the summer. 

Saw the list. Nicely done, bookworm. I know it doesn’t matter, but I really am proud of you. Looks like all that hard work paid off ❤️

Despite everything, there was a swell of emotion in your chest at his words. God, why did everything have to be so awful?

Later, you were hefting your last box into your trunk when you heard the distinct sound of a motorcycle slowing down behind you. Your heart raced. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to see him again or not.

Slowly, you turned around to see Azriel sliding off the bike, his helmet tucked under his arm. “Hey, beautiful,” he said, somewhat tentatively.

“Hi,” you said softly. 

He nodded to your car, his expression grave. “You’re leaving?”

“Back home for the summer,” you said, unable to take your eyes off him. He looked tired. And sad. 

A moment passed silently, the two of you just looking at each other, pain hanging in the air between you.

“I miss you,” he said quietly. 

You sighed. Willed yourself to be brave. “I miss you, too,” you admitted. 

Something like hope gleamed in his eyes. “I love you,” he murmured. 

“I --” you started, and couldn’t bear it. “I need time.”

He looked crestfallen, like you had just punched him in the gut, but he nodded. “The summer?”

You swallowed. “Okay,” you said. “Okay. I get the summer, and I’ll find you in the fall. We’ll talk then.”

“Thank you,” he said, quietly. “Thank you for… for that. For talking to me now,” he winced. “I know I don’t deserve it.”

“No, you don’t,” you said, but there was no malice in it. You were too tired. “I get the summer, Az. Don’t contact me until school starts.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, but agreed. “Okay. I’ll see you in September,” he said, backing up towards his bike. “Have a good summer, bookworm,” he added with the slightest of smiles, before he slid on his helmet and drove away.

---

You spent most of the summer moping around, reading books, and trying to sort through everything that happened, all the feelings you had. 

For three months, you sifted through every moment that Azriel and you had shared together, picking them apart, deciphering every movement. 

It may have been slightly unhealthy.

You believed that what you and Azriel had was real. You believed that he did love you. And you couldn’t deny that you loved him. That maybe you always would. 

Was it worth it to deny yourself the person who had made you so happy? Who had taught you new things, who had helped you out of your comfort zone?

As September grew closer, you still weren’t sure. 

 ---

Azriel got more and more anxious as the summer came to a close. It had been torture to not contact you at all, but he knew he was in no position to be asking you for anything, so he did as you asked. 

The hurt on your face those months ago was still a clear image in his mind that haunted his nightmares. He would never forgive himself for hurting you. 

Yet, he couldn’t stop imagining what would happen when he saw you again. Would you give him another chance? You would have to be a saint to even contemplate that. But then again, you were the best person he had ever known. If anyone would be able to forgive, it would be you.

Scowling, he stomped that shred of hope down. He couldn’t go into this having any expectations. 

Soon, he would know.

---

It was bittersweet coming back to school. Academia was where you thrived. You felt right at home in the library, stacks of papers all around you. 

And you used to feel at home with Azriel. 

You sighed at the thought. The first day of classes was tomorrow. You had told Azriel not to contact you until school started back up again, and knowing him, he would take that seriously. 

Deep down, you knew what you wanted to do. It terrified you, though. 

Sure enough, the next morning, you had a text from him:

Hey, bookworm. Hope your first day of classes goes well. 

The slightest smile spread across your lips. You knew he was probably dying to ask when he could see you, but was trying to keep it light. Leave the ball in your court.

For the first time since everything, you texted him back.

Thanks, Az. Yours, too. 

He opened it immediately. After a moment, you willed yourself to send another:

Wanna meet up at the tennis courts tonight? 

His reply came at lightning speed:

7?

Reigning in your smile, you replied:

7.

You couldn’t remember ever being this nervous as you walked to the tennis courts. There were a few people playing, so you sat underneath a tree nearby, willing your legs to stop shaking. 

Right on time, a familiar motorcycle turned into the parking lot. He spotted you immediately, striding over to you with unsure steps. 

“Hey, beautiful,” he said quietly. 

You looked up at him, your heart racing at the familiarity you felt. “Hi,” you said, and after the briefest hesitation, you patted the grass next to you. You weren’t sure you would be able to stand. 

Immediately, he plopped down across from you, his knees only inches from yours as he faced you. 

His eyes were locked on yours. “How was your summer?” he said, his voice cracking slightly. 

“Okay,” you said. “How was yours?”

“Okay,” he said quietly. 

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “Okay, here’s the thing. I did a lot of thinking. A lot of thinking. And I do love you, Az.”

You paused, not sure how to word what you were feeling. 

“But?” Azriel said, his voice dripping with trepidation, his eyes guarded.

“But it’s going to take some time before I can trust you again.”

Azriel swallowed, his eyes never wavering from yours. 

He seemed like he was waiting for you to continue before he said anything, so you added, quietly, “I am willing to try, though. To give us another chance.”

The tautness in his body released, relief flooding his features. “Really?” he croaked, tears swimming in his eyes. 

You could only nod before he launched towards you, knocking you on your back, before he threaded his fingers through your hair, kissing you deeply. 

You laughed, as his other hand came up to cup your face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I swear I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you,” he said against your lips.

Wrapping your arms around him, you sighed into his kiss. “I know, Az. I know.”

“I love you,” he murmured, moving to kiss down your neck.

“I love you, too.”

“I missed you so much,” he groaned before kissing your lips again.

You giggled. “I missed you, too.”

He finally stopped kissing you, settling his elbows on either side of your head, leaning his forehead against yours. “Thank you. For giving me another chance.”

Smiling, you kissed him swiftly on the lips. “Don’t mess it up.”

“I won’t. I swear I won’t.”

The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon in each other’s arms, going over your respective summers. 

Eventually, Azriel propped himself on an elbow, gazing at you with all the love in the world.

“What?” you asked. 

He grinned. “You wanna go mini golfing, bookworm?”

You couldn’t help but return his smile. “Only if I can help you again.”

Azriel leaned down to gently kiss your forehead. “It’s a deal.”

A/N: wanna see more of these two?? Check out part 2!

@thalia-as-blog @saltedcoffeescotch

[briefinquiries]

Tyler Owens x Reader: Too Easy

Request: Anonymous asked: "okay i have a tyler owens request!! him and reader are both tornado wranglers and they’ve always had a somewhat flirty relationship, but at one point they’re out chasing and the motel they stay at that night doesn’t have enough rooms for all of them so Tyler and the reader decide to share and reader has a nightmare? or just some kind of angst or hurt/comfort with a happy ending? love ur work!"

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: PTSD, trauma, tornado mention

A/N: I changed it from flirty to an enemies to lovers-type relationship, just because i've been craving to write that type of banter. as always, comments & replies are super appreciated!!! thanks for reading :)

As soon as you saw the familiar red Dodge truck parked outside the motel you groaned. 

“Is this guy everywhere, all the time?” Halle, one of your crew members, mumbled from the driver’s seat. She pulled your SUV into the only empty spot in the parking lot. 

She was referencing Tyler– another local storm chaser and absolute pain in your ass. His Ram truck was like a symbol all around Oklahoma. Everyone in the midwest knew his name– and what he did. You, on the other hand, knew him as a self-absorbed jerk that constantly put his and his team’s lives in danger for a few hundred thousand views on YouTube. He was cocky and obnoxious and arrogant. And you couldn’t stand him. 

Unfortunately for you though, Tyler Owens and his entire team went where the storms went. Which meant that you were stuck dealing with him– especially during tornado season. 

“Let’s just get a room, maybe we missed him,” you mumbled before turning to the backseat. “Anna, could you pass me my bag?” 

“Sure thing,” she replied, grunting as she handed your duffel over. 

“How about two rooms tonight?” you suggested. “I feel like I haven’t actually slept since we were in Austin.”

“God, I’ve been waiting for you to suggest that,” Halle mumbled. The bags around her eyes suggested she was just as eager for a good night’s sleep as you were. 

Together, the three of you dragged yourselves towards the motel lobby, exhausted and desperate for both a shower and a bed. 

“Why don’t you guys wait with all the gear? I’ll go in and book the rooms,” you offered. 

“Two of them,” Halle said with a relieved smile. 

“Two rooms coming up,” you promised. 

They nodded in agreement and settled in on the curb while you wandered inside. The bell above the door rang loudly as you stepped inside. As soon as you did, you realized that, to your absolute dismay, a familiar someone had already beat you to the front desk. You’d recognize those stupid, broad shoulders any day, even if you were sleep deprived.  

“Evenin’ m’lady,” Tyler’s little sidekick said teasingly. He tipped his baseball cap towards you.   

“Hey Boone,” you greeted back curtly.   

“What’d ya think of that beaut earlier, huh? Not too often we get two storm cells like that.”

“Yeah it was somethin’,” you replied absentmindedly. Honestly, you didn’t dislike Boone. He was friendly– maybe a little overzealous for your liking, but overall a nice guy. It was a shame he was always around Tyler– otherwise you might not always be so annoyed with him, too.  

“There she is,” Tyler beamed. He approached you and Boone while he tucked a few room keys in his wallet. “Were you fillin’ Boone in on why you picked the wrong storm to chase today? Because that’s a story I want to hear–” 

Your gaze fell to the floor, chest tightening the same way it did in the field earlier. “The winds changed last minute– I didn’t catch it,” you muttered, although you shouldn’t even have to explain yourself to this hillbilly. 

“Ah, I see. Man, you’re off your game, sweetheart. Usually it’s me missin’ those signs. What do you got cloudin’ up that pretty little mind of yours?” 

Anger began seeping into the corners of your mind. “Why do you even care?” you asked icily. “Thought you’d be happy to have that storm all to yourself.”

“Oh, I was sweetheart,” Tyler winked. “But I don’t mind sharin’ with you.”

Rolling your eyes, you pushed past him towards the front desk. A younger girl with short, red hair offered you a smile. “How can I help you?”

“I need two rooms please,” you requested, it took about all the energy you had left to smile back. 

The girl sucked in a breath of air. “Oh, I’m so sorry– this gentleman here just rented three rooms. All we have left is one.”

“One?” you asked in disbelief, mouth falling open. 

She nodded. “There’s two beds, though, if that helps.”

“Shit,” you grumbled. Your team was exhausted– and you knew that you couldn’t just take back your promise for them to have their own beds. 

“I’m sorry–” the girl repeated, but you shook your head. 

“No, it’s okay. Not your fault,” you said quickly, trying to remember your manners.. 

“Somethin’ wrong over there sweetheart?” Tyler asked teasingly.  

“Yeah, you took all but one of the rooms. Now my team doesn’t have enough.”

“C’mon, I’ve seen you guys cram into one room before.”

“Yeah, but they’re exhausted. We haven’t had our own beds in weeks and I promised them…” your voice trailed off. Why the hell were you even explaining any of this to him? “You know what? Just forget it–” you turned back towards the receptionist. “I’ll take the one room, please.”

After passing your card over and paying, you turned and pushed back past Tyler and Boone. But before you could reach the door, Tyler’s voice stopped you in your tracks. 

“What are you just gonna go back on your promise? That’s really gonna disappoint your team–”

“I’ll sleep in the damn truck,” you snapped, zero patience for any of his sarcasm or feeble attempts at a joke. “Happy?”

“Hey–” he said, voice softening instantly. “I was just kiddin’ around.”

“Really funny,” you said, sarcasm dripping off your tongue, now more than usual, Tyler was getting on your nerves. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and disappoint my team.”

Without waiting for whatever retort Tyler could come up with next, you finally pushed your way through the door without looking back. 

You found Halle and Anna in the same place you left them– still sitting on the curb, slouched over and exhausted-looking.  

“Hey guys, bad news–” you began, guilt already spreading through your stomach. But before you could, the bell to the lobby door rang out, causing you to groan.  

You took a deep, steadying breath to calm your nerves, just in time for Tyler to speak. “Now I have an idea– how about we share? I got three rooms for my team, but that’s six beds… we only need five.”

You spun around so fast, you were surprised you didn’t get whiplash. “Look Tyler, as much as you know I love your antics, can we not do this right now? Please?”

“Who said anythin’ about antics?” he pressed. “I’m bein’ serious here. Your two can have their beds and you can take one of ours.”

“No way,” you spat quickly. “I’m sleeping in the car.”

By now, Halle and Anna had seemingly picked up on the situation. They stood up and crossed their arms disapprovingly in unison. 

“You can’t sleep in the car, that’s ridiculous,” Anna said. 

“Yeah, why don’t you and Anna take the room and I’ll share with Tyler’s crew,” Halle offered. 

“No,” you shook your head. “I promised you guys a good night’s sleep tonight– I’m not letting you crash with them.”

“Well we’re not letting you sleep in the car,” Halle argued back. “It’s like… eighty-five degrees out here.” 

You let your eyes fall shut for a moment, trying to think. But the truth was, you really were just so, so tired. You wanted everything about today– the storm cells you got wrong from earlier, the endless hours of driving, and lack of sleep, over with. And if bunking with someone from Tyler’s crew was the only way to make that happen, well then, so be it, you finally decided. Better you than Halle or Anna. 

“See– even your team isn’t as scared of us as you are,” Tyler chuckled. 

“Fine,” you snapped, shaking your head in disbelief. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “Who am I sharing with?”

Maybe you’d get lucky and get to room with Dani or Lilly–

“That would be me,” Tyler chirped, eyes glistening under the streetlamp. 

Well fuck me, you thought. 

…

You curled up in the double bed closest to the wall. By the time you got up to the room, Tyler had already claimed the one closest to the door.

You heard the water snap off in the bathroom, followed by the sound of Tyler peeling back the shower curtain. That was your cue to feign sleep, if only to avoid any further conversation with him for the night. You rolled over and pulled the blankets up to your chin. 

After a few minutes, he emerged from the bathroom– the noise from the fan growing louder and a sudden whiff of his shampoo washing over you. You’d never admit it– but the way he smelled was actually one of the few things you liked about Tyler. 

“I know you’re not sleepin’,” he said as he began rummaging through his bag. 

“How the hell would you know that?” you groaned. 

You heard him chuckle softly. “Because you wouldn’t have answered if you were.”

This fucking cowboy. 

“Well I’d like to be sleeping,” you said, still not rolling over to face him. 

“And here I was hopin’ we’d use our little sleepover to get to know each other a little better.”

“You can lay off the act,” you said suddenly, all of your anger and exhaustion just melting into a pool of unfiltered irritation. 

There was a brief pause before Tyler replied, “What do you mean?”

“I mean there’s no audience in here– no team members watching, no YouTube subscribers viewing us. You don’t have to pretend to be all sweet and charming.”

“I wasn’t aware I was pretending–”

“Oh cut the shit, Tyler. You love to drive me crazy me– just admit it. And it's probably my fault for letting you get to me so easily. But I mean, c'mon, was it your plan all along to just get me to share a room with you so you could keep me up all night getting to know me better?”

He let out a huff of air that sounded frustrated, as opposed to his usual amusement. “You’re something else, Y/N, you know that?”

You were caught off guard by Tyler’s use of your actual name. He always resorted to nicknames– either sweetheart or the town he knew you were from. In fact, in the few years you’d known him, the only time he’d ever repeated your name was the first time you told it to him. 

You sat up in bed and finally turned to face him– trying to gauge his demeanor. 

“I offer you a room– I didn’t have to do that, you know? And believe it or not, I didn’t offer it to you just to make your life miserable. I did it because I didn’t like the idea of you sleepin’ in your car alone–” he shook his head. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter. Goodnight.”

Before you could even think of a reply, Tyler was peeling back the covers of his own bed and crawling in. He laid on his left side, back facing you.

You stayed in place for a moment, too stunned to move or speak or do much of anything.

Eventually, you laid back down, trying your best to deny the pool of guilt spreading through your stomach.

… 

With one arm you held on to your sister's hand as hard as you could– feeling the muscles in your shoulder strain and pop as you did. 

“Hold on!” you shouted, pleading with her not to let go. 

With your other hand, you were clinging to the handle on the storm shelter door. Somehow it had managed to pop open after the two of you had escaped inside. 

She looked down at you, her body suspended in the air– nothing but sheer, unfiltered terror reflecting in her round-rimmed glasses. 

“C’mon!” you screamed. 

“Please–” she gasped. “Please don’t let me go!”

“I got you!” you screamed, but you could feel that your grip on her clammy hand wasn’t as tight as it needed to be. “No–” you yelled. 

“Don’t let me go–” she repeated, nails digging into your skin desperately. 

But you didn’t even have time to adjust your grip before she was slipping away– in the end, the winds won. 

In the blink of an eye, her body was being sucked away from you– further and further into the dark storm clouds barreling your way. 

“No!” you screamed, reaching for the spot her body was moments before. “No!” 

But then you felt your own grip slipping on the door handle and you knew you needed both hands to hold on if you wanted to survive. So, using all your strength– you dragged yourself to the bottom of the storm shelter. You found the safest corner– next to some old piping to curl up. 

The whole time the storm raged on above you– you couldn’t stop screaming. So, you squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your forehead against your knees, making yourself as small as possible. And then, with everything you had left, you wound your arms around the piping and held on like your life depended on it… because it did. 

…

Your name sounded so distant when you heard someone calling it– like it was miles away. Then, vaguely, it came more into focus as it was called again. 

The third time, it was right next to you– and it was familiar… but you didn’t dare to look up. What if the storm was still raging outside? What if it took you next? 

Hands gripped your shoulders– causing you to jolt awake. 

Your eyes shot open as you pulled yourself from your nightmare. Tyler was sitting on the edge of your bed, his mouth hung open, like he was out of breath. 

“Tyler?” you croaked, attempting to sit up from the mattress. 

“You’re okay,” he said instantly. “You’re okay– you’re safe.”

Once you had managed to sit up, you studied Tyler’s face for a moment, trying desperately to gauge if any of this was real. Despite the darkness around you, you could still make out every feature– every crease, every freckle, every single piece of stubble that made up his shaved beard. And as much as you’d admired Tyler’s face in the last few years, even you knew that you couldn’t have been that detailed in your imagination.   

You wanted to ask what the hell he was doing there– how he had gotten in her room, when all of a sudden, the same memories that had plagued you in your dream resurfaced in your mind.

The sight of the EF4 tornado that destroyed every inch of your childhood home. The image of your sister’s terrified face– right before she was ripped from your grasp. The sound of her scream, dissipating with the raging winds. 

“Easy, sweetheart,” Tyler soothed. 

You turned to face him– Tyler was here because he’d let you share his room… because he was way kinder than you ever gave him credit for. And now he was here– witnessing you completely falling apart.

Tyler’s lips began moving– he was talking. But despite the vague comfort from his tone of voice, you couldn’t really make out what he was saying. It was like the winds were still raging around you– muffling everything. 

You felt like your heart might just beat out of your chest– maybe that was the tornado working to rip it from your skin. 

“Hey–” a voice… no, not a voice. Tyler’s voice, said. “You gotta breathe.”

What was he talking about? You were breathing– of course you were breathing. Unless... unless the tornado ripped out your lungs instead of your heart. And now that you thought about it, no, actually, you weren’t breathing. You tried to inhale in, but the air wouldn’t come. You gasped, chest tightening while you began to tremble. 

Your lungs weren’t in your chest– your lungs flew away– just like your sister.

Firm, rough hands cupped both of your cheeks, forcing you to look forward. You were met by Tyler’s green eyes, currently blown open and wide with worry. 

“Breathe, baby,” he instructed. “With me– look.”

Baby, you thought. That was a new one. You didn’t hate it nearly as much as you hated sweetheart. 

You watched desperately as Tyler inhaled and exhaled exaggeratedly, like he was hoping you’d follow along.  

You tried. Really, you did.

Your wide, desperate eyes met his. But instead of following along, all you could do was imagine what your sister’s body had looked like after being struck by debris and tossed halfway across town–

“With me,” Tyler repeated firmly, his thumb stroking across the surface of your cheek gently. You leaned into his touch, craving comfort. 

Tyler continued producing loud and deliberate, slow and calming breaths. After a few seconds, you latched onto the sound, mimicking it, and following along the best that you could. 

Your shoulders relaxed slightly when you realized that you could actually breathe– which meant that EF5 hadn’t actually ripped them out of your chest. 

Tyler’s brushed a loose strand of hair from your face. “There you go,” he whispered.

“Did I wake you up?” you asked quietly, feeling even guiltier than you had for snapping at him all night. 

He hesitated– like he was actually debating on lying to you or not. 

“Was I screaming?” 

“I mean, a little bit–”

You nodded before letting your gaze fall to your lap, where you began picking harshly at an old hangnail, a feeble attempt to distract yourself. 

“Do you–” Tyler began. “Do you have those nightmares often?”

Now it was your turn to contemplate lying. But then you remembered what an absolute jerk you’d been to Tyler all night, and figured you at least owed him the truth. 

“Yeah,” you said. “That’s partially why I wanted to sleep in the truck.”

Tyler smiled softly. “And here I was thinking it was because you hated me so much.”

“I’m sorry–” you began, voice shaking slightly. “I know I can be a jerk.”

One of Tyler’s eyebrows shot up like he was surprised. 

“What?” you asked. 

“No it’s just… that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you apologize.”

“What can I say?” you mumbled, trying to make light of things. “You seem to always see the worst versions of myself.” 

Tyler’s gaze softened, like he knew you were talking about more than your lack of apologies. After a moment he sighed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Glancing up, you hesitated. Your heart had just stopped pounding in your chest, but the thought of talking about what had happened in your home just a few short years ago made it speed up again.  

“You don’t have to–” Tyler said quickly. 

“No– it’s just…” your voice faltered. “I just haven’t really talked about it.” 

Tyler was patient. He stayed still on the edge of your bed and waited for you to be ready. After you sorted through some of the thoughts in your head you whispered, “You know I’ve been chasing in Oklahoma since I was a teenager?”

Tyler’s face lit up in surprise. 

“It’s true. I took a few years off… and when I came back, I was upset to see Oklahoma had a new storm chaser. One that everyone seemed to like more than me,” you admitted. You weren’t sure why this was all flowing out so freely, but even you had to admit that it felt nice to be honest. “That’s why I’ve been so mean to you, I think. It felt like you were encroaching on my turf. And then you showed up with your fancy truck– and all your gear, and I suppose I just felt a little jealous.” 

Tyler nodded in understanding. “Why’d you take a few years off?”

Your voice caught in your throat. Only when you hung your head did you feel confident enough to answer. “Remember that EF5 that hit Logan County a few years back?”

Tyler nodded. 

“My family’s farm was in Logan County. My parents were away– on a weekend trip to Colorado to see family. But I’d convinced my sister to stay home with me, because I didn’t want to go,” the words that were your mouth suddenly didn’t feel like yours. And the trembling hands in your lap didn’t feel like yours either. 

“The storm turned last minute. We barely had any warning. But I grabbed my sister– and we ran to the storm shelter. We made it, too– but then the door ripped open. When she went to shut it…” your voice trailed off. “Well you can use your imagination for the rest.”

You finally gathered up enough courage to glance up at Tyler. His eyes were fixated on you– sadness and sympathy plastered all over his face. “I’m so sorry,” he said genuinely. 

“Yeah, well…” you said weakly. “The worst part is– I think I remember locking the storm shelter door– but I wonder every single day of my life if I accidentally forgot. Which… I mean, convincing her to stay home already makes it partially my fault. But I can write that one off– and remind myself I didn’t know what was going to happen. But forgetting to lock the storm shelter?” you sighed. “That would be a harder one to forgive myself for.”

Tyler scooted closer towards you on the bed. He raised his hand– he was reaching out to comfort you. But then he pulled back, like he thought better. You were surprised by how disappointed that made you. 

“It’s not your fault–” Tyler assured you. 

It was the same thing your parents had said your whole life– so why couldn’t you believe it? 

“I guess it doesn't really matter whose fault it was,” you said. “She’s gone and I’m not. I took a few years off from chasing because I just couldn’t… I couldn’t get myself in the right headspace for it. Every time I saw a cell forming, I’d panic– and I’d want to run from it, not chase it. Things are better now… but every once and a while, I still run. Like today,” you admitted. “I knew the winds changed. I knew the one to the east was gonna die out. That’s why I chose it.” 

Tyler sighed. “And then I gave you shit for it,” he said, remorse in his tone. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” you admitted. “And I’m really grateful you let me crash in your room. I think if I’d been screamin’ like that in my car, it would’ve caused quite the scene.”

Tyler’s lips tugged into a gentle smile. “I told you I didn’t mind sharing when it came to you. Plus, I learned more about you during our little sleepover than I have in the last few years chasin’ next to you.” 

“Yeah, well…” you mumbled. “Don’t get used to it.”

Tyler smirked. “Does that mean you’re going to go back to hating me tomorrow, when we’re no longer roommates? Or have I finally cracked through that tough ole shell of yours?”

“You keep offerin’ me motel rooms for free and I’ll be an open book,” you laughed. 

Tyler nodded, like he was storing that offer for later. 

“Hey, I don’t know about you,” he said, suddenly clapping his thighs before standing up. “But all that screaming got me wide awake. You hungry? I’m buying.”

He held out his hand– waiting for you to take it. 

“Are you offering me a room and dinner in one night?” you teased. 

“And all you had to do was reveal your deepest, darkest secrets and traumas to me,” Tyler smirked. 

“Tyler Owens, you’re too easy,” you said, gladly taking his outstretched hand.

[logansdoll]

37

the fate of the entire world came down to a race against time, the future of all mutants resting on logan's shoulders... but a little detour wouldn't hurt, right?

CW: heavily suggestive, profanity, takes place during the events of Days Future Past, Logan was kind of an ass, reader is kinda that girl, angst if you squint, idk if i timed the timeline right or not so whatevs, etc.

"I'm sorry... what are we doing here, again?" Hank asked, confused, as the three men marched through the hallway of an apartment complex.

"I need to find someone," Logan answered, curtly, eyes scanning over the numbers on each door.

'37... 37... 37...'

Charles let out a dry chuckle, pinching the bridge of his nose, "See, that's so funny because last I checked you said we were in a crunch for time."

He stopped in his tracks, Hank pausing mid-walk to turn to him, while Logan came to a standstill just ahead.

"If we have time to take detours, then I'm starting to believe the situation isn't as dire as you described."

Hank swallowed thickly, turning to Logan in expectation of some sort of blowout.

Despite having only known the man for a few of hours, he could tell he had a dangerously short fuse, and wouldn't take kindly to Charles's attitude.

And he'd be right.

Whipping around, Logan stormed over and grabbed the telepath by the collar, brows furrowed as he roughly yanked him closer.

"I just got sent back in the past fifty-fucking-years... And before I do another goddamn thing, there is someone I have to see," he growled, his tone leaving absolutely no room for argument. "Do you got a problem with that, bub?"

Charles paused a moment, eyes scanning over the man before him.

In that instant, he wanted nothing more than to read his mind—to see what was going on in that complicated head of his.

But, alas, he couldn't, so for the sake of everyone, he settled for the safer option.

"Fine with me," he raised his hands in surrender, letting out a sigh as Logan abruptly let him go, turning to go back to his search. "And if I'm not mistaken... thirty-seven would be about five doors down to your right."

Logan glanced back at him, his expression a cross between annoyed and less annoyed.

He'd deal with him later.

But in the meantime, he sped past the next five doors as fast as he could, turning to his right to see what played the setting to some of his best dreams.

A red door, with paint chipping near the hinges, and a crooked 37 and poorly covered claw marks from when he stumbled in drunk one night.

'Just like I left it...'

It wasn't long before the memories came rolling back, reminding him of what he was coming back to.

"You sure you have to go?" you hummed, gathering the sheets to cover your chest and sitting up in the bed, watching as he put on some pants.

Logan nodded, moving to grab his wife-beater, "Yeah, I got some things to take care of... I should be back in a few days."

Turning toward the bed, he smirked at your sleepy form, your bed-head and tired eyes insanely sexy.

"You know what to do while I'm gone, right?"

"Check the peephole before I open, and aim for the nuts," you recited with a yawn.

He smiled, snatching his leather jacket off your chair before striding toward the bed, placing a quick peck on your lips

"I'll be back soon," he promised, swiping a stray stand of hair out your face.

You smiled, looking up at him through your lashes with your beautiful, (e/c) eyes, "I'll be waiting."

When Logan snapped himself out of it, he was still standing in front of the door, the chunk of wood the only thing keeping you two apart.

He was about to knock, but stopped mid-way, hesitant.

What if you'd moved on? Forgotten him in the meantime...

"I'll be waiting," your words echoed in his head.

He sighed, steeling his nerves, before quickly knocking.

There was a moment of silence before the lock clicked, the knob turning and door swinging open to reveal you.

The air caught in Logan's throat as he got a good look at you, his eyes raking up and down your body.

You looked even more beautiful than he remembered.

'That was too quick...'

"You didn't check the peephole," he stated, unable to come up with anything else to say.

Without warning, the sound of a particularly harsh slap echoed throughout the hallway, Charles and Hank flinching at the noise.

"Okay, I deserve that."

"You absolute fucking asshole!" you spat, voice disbelieving of the sight in front of you. "Who the hell do you think you are?!"

Because of your mutation you aged like he did, so you weren't exactly younger looking per se, but you had a youthful vibrance to you.

Your hair was sensually tousled—most likely from just waking up—your skin glowing in the mid-morning sunlight, and your silk robe coming up extra high on your legs, along with hanging extra low on your chest.

You looked sexier than any lingerie model out there.

A fact the other two quite agreed with at the moment.

"Hel-lo," Charles smiled, shamelessly, Hank just silently staring.

"Watch it," Logan threatened, venom dripping from his tone as he shifted to stand in front of you, blocking your body from their view.

"You have no business being here," your brows furrowed as you grabbed the door, attempting to shut it. "Get lost."

"(n/n), I came to see you," Logan grunted, shoving his foot between the door and the frame. "Let me in."

"No!" you scoffed, pushing against the door to try and shut him out. "You don't get to do that! You don't get to leave for eight months and then waltz right back in my life like nothing happened!"

"I got into some shit, alright? Some really bad shit... I couldn't bring that back here."

"Then call! Or... Or write! Fuck! I would've been happy with a goddamn carrier pigeon!"

"I didn't have any of that crap—" "For eight months?!"

With a groan, he rolled his shoulder, giving the door a quick blow and knocking it open, forcing you back and allowing him in.

Quickly, you reached your hand out toward your philodendron, sprouting large vines and using them to grab Logan's wrists, holding him in place.

"(y/n), I don't have a lotta time," he grunted, struggling against their hold, to no avail, "Let me go..."

"For eight months," you started, voice small as you approached him, "I thought you were dead."

Logan halted his thrashing, turning to you with a softened look.

Your expression was now one of hurt rather than rage.

"I know the work you do... and after three months of nothing I started thinking the worst..."

You stopped in front of him, turning to the large array of plants carefully placed around the room, making the apartment look more like a greenhouse than anything.

"I used every damn plant in my range to try and find you... and when I got nothing, I knew that you were gone."

Suddenly, you poked a finger into his chest, eyes glazed with relief as you looked upon his face.

A face you'd never thought you'd see again.

"So no... you do not get to come back after all this time just to see me."

Slowly, your hold on his wrists began to loosen, and he lowered his hands, stepping forward to stand right in your space.

"You're a selfish... narcissistic... cocky son of a bitch, and—"

Logan suddenly snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

"And?"

You swallowed thickly, staring up at him with your glassy, doe eyes.

"And I hate you."

He chuckled, leaning down to ghost his lips over your cheek, sending shivers down your spine.

"I love you, too, dollface."

And before you could even retort, his lips were on yours, roping you right back into him.

The kiss was hungry... passionate. Like he'd been waiting a lifetime to get his hands on you again.

And he had.

Never in his wildest dreams did Logan ever believe he'd be able to kiss you again... to have you in his arms.

It was worth the detour and more.

Honestly, even if he didn't manage to save the world, he'd die a happy man.

With a gasp, you both broke away from the kiss, your chest heaving as you looked up at the man—who was looking down at you like you'd just hung the sun in the sky.

Slowly, his calloused hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb smoothing over your cheekbone.

"(n/n)... I'm gonna tell you some instructions, and you gotta trust me and follow them to the letter,, alright?" Logan started, seriously.

"What? Logan, what are you—?"

"Please," he pleaded. "I know you don't deserve the shit I put you through, but believe me when I tell you that you need to listen to what I have to say..."

Letting out a slow sigh, you agreed, nodding for him to continue.

"In a month, I want you to pack up your things. Your cloths, your plants, all of it, and travel up to Westchester County, New York," he explained, pulling a crumpled card out his jacket pocket. "Go to this address, and you'll find these guys."

He turned to point at Charles and Hank, who were still standing in the doorway, awkwardly.

"Hello," Hank waved, sweetly.

"They have a huge mansion... and you gotta stay there until I can find my way back."

"Find your way back?" you asked, confused, as you took the card from his hand. "Logan, I don't understand... I don't even know who these guys are..."

"You just have to trust me, doll," he assured, his free hand carding through your hair. "Besides, I don't like you bein' in the city by yourself, anyway—" "We really should be going now," Charles chimed, clearing his throat.

Logan let out a sigh, turning back to you and scanning over your face a final time.

God, you were so beautiful.

"Wait for me a little longer?" he asked, nervous.

But to his surprise, you smiled, your hand sliding down to hold his, smoothing your thumb over his knuckles.

"Against my better judgement..." you sighed, lightheartedly. "You better come back to me, Logan."

He cracked a grin, placing a feather-light kiss on your hairline.

"I always do."

bonus !! The three men didn't even make it halfway down the hallway before Logan turned to the two, his hardened expression a complete contrast from the smile he flashed you before he left.

"Listen up," he started, voice dangerously low. "Either of you try to make moves on my girl while I'm gone, I will personally come back and mount your head on a spike. Consequences be damned."

Quickly, Charles used what little power he had to scan over Logan's mind, checking to see if he truly meant what he said.

And he did.

In fact, he was so dead serious about the threat that it actually scared Charles quite a bit.

"Got it?"

Charles and Hank turned to each other, sharing the same knowing look.

"Yup."

"Absolutely."

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ IS IT OVER NOW? (IT ISN'T) ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: all good things come to an end, including your relationship—but don't worry, broken hearts can be mended, but only if you're both willing to try.

contents: fem!reader. you two break up and make up! you guys fight/break up over something that coulda been resolved with better communication. kinda suggestive ending, maybe i'll drop a part two if this does alright. satoru announces your break-up on his stream. longest fic i've posted so far, 4k words (kms).

author's note: the long awaited angst has finally arrived.. big thank you to @screampied for beta-reading!! tagging @yunymphs who read it early and @sutorus + @kentopedia who i both miss very much!!

ever since you first joined satoru on his stream, it’s gotten way more popular than either of you could’ve ever expected. before he brought you onto his live, he was averaging about eight thousand views per stream. now, his average was well over fifteen thousand—and that wasn't even including the publicity he got from other websites. when satoru accidentally left the camera on while you two made out, you two went viral on twitter. and when another user tried to swipe him away, the clip got over a hundred thousand views on youtube.

at first, satoru didn't mind the change his stream was going through—in fact, he welcomed it. but lately, things have been… different.

last week, while satoru was playing in some competition, he won first out of hundreds of equally proficient players. had it been anyone else, their comments would've been filled with congratulations and good job's, but in his case, all satoru got were messages asking where you were. that wasn’t the first time—ever since that very first day, when you showed up on his stream, satoru’s audience has entirely shifted. and honestly, if you were in his position, you'd be a bit annoyed. anyone would be. 

but you had never expected that it would be so big of a deal that you and satoru—the "cutest couple on the internet"—would break up over it.

you walk along the chilly, suburban sidewalk up to your boyfriend’s house. satoru had just sent you a message asking if you could come over, and like always, you answered with an immediate yes. a flock of crows fly by, raven feathers providing a stark contrast between them and the pale gray sky around you. it’s gray and gloomy, but not unpleasant. 

a sweet, romantic song plays in your ears as you knock three times on satoru’s front door. his familiar voice calls out “coming!”, and you can hear his footsteps grow louder and louder until he swings open the door. satoru smiles down at you, cheeks already rosy from the cold winter air. “hey.”

you tilt your head and smile back at him. “that’s all i get? hey?” you huff, walking into his living room behind him as the door closes behind you. “d’you have any hot chocolate? i’m freezing,” you say, licking your lips. satoru turns and pauses, an unreadable expression on his face. “satoru?”

after a moment, your boyfriend snaps out of it. “oh, yeah, sorry,” he says ruefully. satoru rubs his eyes with one hand and uses the other to open the door to his bedroom, and as you follow him in, you’re hit with a blast of warm air. “i’m just kinda tired, but yeah, i have some hot cocoa in here. c’mon.”

“anything i can do for you?” you offer, sitting down on the corner of his bed. you’ve been to his house so many times that it feels like home—maybe even more so than your own place. everything about satoru’s room is comfortable, from his plush chairs to the faux-fur blankets draped over every single piece of his furniture. you could probably fall over at any given point and it wouldn’t actually hurt—you’d just land on something soft and/or fluffy.

but that wasn’t all that made you so in love with his home. it was just the way it felt—words couldn’t describe the way everything was just so right and just so perfect, and you really did hope that you’d never have to see a time where you wouldn’t be able to spend time with your boyfriend here.

it really is a shame that all good things had to come to an end. at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself as satoru finally told you why he called you over. unlike nearly every other time, it wasn’t because he missed you or wanted to cuddle—it was quite the opposite, really.

“i don’t think this is working.”

six words that shattered the life you had come to know and love.

“is this a joke?” you try, an unnerved smile spreading across your lips against your will. he doesn’t reply instantly, which is so out-of-character for him that it makes you stiffen up. “satoru, this isn’t funny—”

“i’m not kidding,” satoru murmurs, looking away. he refuses to meet your eyes, and some part of you is still desperately trying to find reason in the chaos that’s slowly taking over your mind. how could it be that everything was just fine two minutes ago and now it’s anything but that? did something happen? did you say the wrong thing? did you—

“it’s not funny,” you insist, still somehow clinging onto your slowly-dwindling hope. maybe you’re in denial, but still, you were sure that everything was fine—no, that everything is fine. there was no past-tense, right? how could the glass home you’d built with your bare hands just crash down at the throw of a pebble?

satoru finally meets your eyes, and your breath catches in your throat. there’s no amused glimmer in his eyes, no “just kidding” in sight, and even worse, you can’t even see an ounce of the love or adoration you’d come to grow so attached to in just a couple months.

“what happened?” you whisper, miraculously managing to keep yourself together. you’d never forgive yourself if you just started crying over a breakup you weren’t even sure was happening—what little’s left of your pride is holding on. you allow yourself to wrap your arms around your chest, curling into your own embrace. 

satoru doesn’t reply for a long second. right when you’re sure he just won’t reply, he does, and it all comes spilling out in a messy stream of words. “it’s just… i can’t do this anymore. i can’t keep going online and seeing everyone on my stream talking about you. i love you, i really do, but it’s just—” satoru shakes his head frustratedly. “i don’t know how to say it, but you know what i mean, right?”

your eyebrows furrow and you shake your head. “you’re breaking up with me because you’re tired of seeing me?”

“no, fuck,” satoru groans, running a hand through his hair. his previously cool and collected demeanor starts to fall apart as he takes a step back. “i don’t know how to explain it, but— shit, you wouldn’t understand.”

you swallow and start to stand up, still willing to try. “then help me understand, satoru, i—”

“you’ve seen the comments, and you’ve seen all the posts on twitter,” satoru says, tilting his head back and glaring at the ceiling. “it’s not your fault, but i really just can’t stand everyone disregarding me and turning my own stream into a youtube channel starring you.”

his words sting like alcohol in an open wound, and you fight the battle of your life to prevent the thousands of tears hiding behind your eyes from being visible. even so, your voice wobbles ever so slightly as you say “that’s a bullshit reason to break up, satoru—”

your boyfriend—is he even still your boyfriend?—scoffs and shakes his head, stumbling back and falling into his chair. "for you, it isn't. you wouldn’t understand. for me, it's like everyone's just... invalidating the three years i've spent on this shit. and i can't do it anymore, i just can't."

you blink slowly, backing away towards his bedroom door. "what does that mean?"

satoru exhales a bitter laugh and turns away, the back of his chair facing you. you think you can hear him take a soft, shaky breath as the room falls silent. neither of you make a sound before satoru turns back toward you, a blank look on his face.

he looks up at you, azure eyes devoid of the sparkle you've become so familiar with. satoru smiles sadly, but to your dismay, there's no real emotion behind it. it's almost like he's already accepted it when he says, "it means we—" he pauses and looks away. "this is over."

you reach out toward him, desperate to hold on to him—to the invisible string that ties you and satoru together, but he's just out of your grasp. "satoru, it isn't even that big of a deal, why are you—"

satoru turns and fixes you with a stern glare, and just like that, the string that kept you and satoru together for months, maybe years snaps, and you're left with a limp strand of what it once was. taking the hint, you walk out of his room in a daze, hardly noticing the way he says "i'm sorry".

and the worst part? he said he still loved you. but apparently that wasn’t enough.

satoru has every right to be annoyed that his stream is only growing because of you—his stream was the way he made money, and after all, it was never meant to be about you. 

and maybe he was never meant to be for you either.

the walk home is cold and lonely. you slip a hand into your pocket—the pocket of satoru's hoodie, which you should probably return to him—and extract your earphones. it probably isn't a good idea to wear both outside as you walk home, but you do it anyway—this day can't possibly get any worse.

a soft voice murmurs words of sorrow and encouragement in your ear as the music takes you to another world. maybe this—the breakup—was meant to happen. maybe it was a mistake to date a boy with thousands of fans.

as soon as you get home, your phone dings softly. you pick it up and frown when you see it's from toru. you'd have to change that name later.

toru: idk if u blocked me already but i still have a lot of ur things, do u wanna come pick them up later?

toru: or i can drop them off tmrw ig

you miss the way he used to text you—with an obnoxious amount of exclamation points and an even worse amount of emojis. now, it's like all of the flavor's gone from his words, and it hurts. that's when it actually settles in, that this is really over. it hurts like an icicle being driven straight through your heart, and it stings like one, too.

satoru's texts are left on delivered for five whole minutes before you reply, and it's only with an "i'll come by tmrw". he likes the message less than a minute later, and you're left to wallow in your misery alone until you finally drift off to sleep.

the next morning, you open your phone to a notification alerting you that satoru’ll be live on stream in ten minutes. curiosity kills the cat, but in this case, maybe it’d be worth it to see what he tells his viewers about your breakup. after all, there’s no way he wouldn’t tell them—he always had something to say about you, and he’d probably rather tell them for sure rather than let them come up with ridiculous theories on their own.

so you hastily make a new account using some email account you haven’t touched since middle school, trying a couple different passwords until you remember the one that works. the website hits you with a hundred questions, asking you about your favorite games and who’d you like to subscribe to first. you choose satoru, albeit after a second of hesitation. two minutes later, sparklingzebra672 joins your ex-boyfriend’s stream. you wait a second, holding your breath as the live loads. a brief moment later, satoru’s painfully familiar face appears on your screen.

“hey guys,” satoru says, forcing a smile on his face. even from behind a screen, you swear you can feel his eyes on you. “how’s everyone today?” 

the already unstable smile on satoru’s face falls when he opens the comments and gets greeted with a flurry of where’s your girlfriend’s. had you been anyone else, you probably wouldn’t have noticed the way satoru’s eyes dulled ever so slightly or the way he curled into himself, but being the girl who once knew him best, you could tell.

“oh, she won’t be back on here for… a while,” satoru starts, dancing around the topic. he leans back against his chair and tilts his chin up, azure eyes focused on the ceiling. “we broke up.”

nothing could’ve prepared you for the way satoru’s comments explode. it’s almost like you can hear the shocked gasps coming from all fourteen—no, twenty thousand viewers as the words nobody thought would ever they’d hear from satoru are spoken.

suguru-geto: holy shit im so sorry 

toji-fushiguro: wait wtf r u kidding?? that's fuckin crazy

yuuji-itadori: omg i thought u guys were together forever :(

inumaki: chat is this real??

satoru shrugs, averting his eyes from the hundreds of comments pouring in, but you scroll through and read them all. everyone, even satoru’s haters, seems genuinely shocked. in fact, had this not been your own breakup, you would’ve been one of them, begging and pleading satoru for more details.

“yeah, we did,” satoru murmurs, eyebrows furrowing just enough for you to read his expression. now that you’re looking closer, you can see the subtle redness underneath his eyes—had he been crying too? and maybe you’re imagining it, but his hair seems a bit dishelved too. your ex-boyfriend shrugs, forcing his face back into his usual lighthearted expression, but it’s not fooling anyone.

satoru scowls at the new flood of comments asking him why you two broke up. some people are already hypothesizing—maybe it’s because you got jealous of his fame, or maybe he got sick of you. maybe you left him to go date some other streamer, or maybe—

“i’m actually gonna end the stream here, ‘cause i don’t really want to deal with all of this right now,” satoru says with a frown. his eyes are narrowed irritably as a couple users protest, still begging for more details. “you guys know that i’m a real person with my own life, right? fuck off.”

and just like that, the stream ends. you’re left with a blank screen and a message saying that satoru’s ended the live, so you shut your laptop. your stomach turns as you groan, just remembering that you have to go over to his place later to retrieve your things, and somehow, you’d have to pretend that you didn’t just stalk his stream to see if he’d say anything substantial about the breakup.

a couple minutes after the stream ends, your phone blows up—every mutual friend you and satoru have is messaging you about what he said, but you can’t bring yourself to open any of them. except for one.

suguru: r u ok?

you: yeah ig

suguru: do u want anything?

satoru’s best friend’s question catches you off-guard—there are a lot of things you want. you want this whole situation to go away. you want the world to disappear. and most of all, you want satoru back, without the online world attached.

but suguru can’t do any of those things, can he? so you leave him on read. 

somehow, you fall back asleep, tossing and turning in your bed without satoru’s steady arms to accompany you. a couple hours later, you wake up again, wincing from the dim sunlight that pours through your windows and directly into your eyes. it’s just past five, so you figure that you might as well go down to satoru’s house and get your things. better to do it now than drag it out for an uncertain amount of time.

the walk is shorter than you remember, but maybe it’s just the absence of music pouring into your ears that makes it seem that way. you watch the wilted autumn leaves flutter in the wind, falling down onto the sidewalk like pieces into place. once upon a time, you had walked these very streets with satoru—it’s a fond memory you remember only all too well.

when you finally step onto your ex’s doorstep, the door opens before you even have a chance to knock. and there he is—the boy who’d once been the love of your life. satoru looks down at you with an unreadable expression. “hey.”

you think you’ve seem this film before, and you didn’t like the ending.

satoru spares you from having to reply by opening the door wider and beckoning you inside. “i already put most of your stuff into a couple boxes, but i thought you’d wanna check on your own. just in case i forgot something.”

you nod and walk past him, not trusting your voice to be steady. this was harder than you expected—much harder. in fact, you’re practically on the verge of breaking down when you step into satoru’s room and look around and see just how different it looks without the touches of you everywhere.

the fortnite poster you’d given him as a joke for the second anniversary of his stream was gone from his wall, and so were the two mini succulents that used to sit on the corner of his desk. the white cat plushie that used to rest on his pillow was gone, too—probably stuffed somewhere in one of the boxes outside his bedroom door.

after nearly a minute of looking around, you decide that whatever satoru possibly could’ve missed wasn’t important enough for you to have to stick around any longer.

you turn and start to exit satoru’s room so fast that you nearly crash into him when he suddenly appears in the doorway. “shit, sorry about that,” you mumble, trying to walk around him. but of course, because the universe is actually praying on your downfall, you and satoru both walk the same way at the same time. you awkwardly try to go around each other, and eventually, the humiliation is over.

“so, you got everything?” satoru asks, walking beside you with his hands in his pockets. you nod, bending over to pick up one of the two boxes. it’s pretty heavy, but not unmanangable. you just don’t really seem to know if you’ll be able to carry both back home at once. 

“oh, uh, i’ll be right back,” you say tentatively. a flash of confusion appears in satoru’s eyes, so you clarify, “i’m gonna go grab my car. that’ll make it easier.”

satoru’s eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head. “no, it’s alright. your place isn’t far from here at all, i’ll just take the other and walk back with you.”

“no, really, it’s alright.”

“it’s the easiest option, ba—” satoru cuts himself off, stopping himself from calling you baby for the first time since you two had started dating. “sorry.”

“let’s just go.”

the walk back to your house is brutal. you walk side by side with satoru since the path is wide enough for you to do so, and you two just keep bumping into each other. had you still been dating, satoru probably would’ve dropped the box and scooped you up instead, kissing your cold face to warm it up. of course, that would’ve added five minutes to your walk, but it would’ve been better than the tense silence dividing you and satoru right now. 

the wind whistles around you, brushing at your skin and making you shiver with every gust—there’s nothing more you’d like than to go home, plop on your couch and cry while watching the titanic for the hundredth time. 

after what seems like three hundred awkward hours later, you and satoru finally make it to your house. “thanks,” you say quietly, setting down your box in front of the door. 

satoru places his next to yours and slips his hands back into his pockets. he nods and replies, “no problem,” but still doesn’t leave.

you cross your arms, and tilt your head, meeting his eyes hesitantly. “umm, do you need anything else?”

satoru coughs tensely and shrugs. “oh, uh, not really, just—” his eyes drift down to your top, and your face grows warm when you realize you’re still wearing his hoodie. 

“shit, my bad,” you mumble, internally cringing and resisting the urge to say every curse word you know. could this day really get any worse?

well, at least satoru looks equally as embarrassed. he shakes his head and gestures for you to keep it on. “it’s fine, it’s kinda cold anyways. keep it.” satoru hesitates, shuffling his feet before continuing, “if you want something… to remember me by.”

what you say next was done entirely against your will. “do you still love me?” you ask suddenly, not sure what otherworldly force prompted you to do so. you instantly regret it when satoru’s face goes even redder, and you can tell it’s not from the cold the way his blush spreads to his ears.

“i— uh, i mean—”

“answer me, satoru, i think i have a right to know.”

he looks away and mumbles something about needing to go back home, to feed his fish or something (he doesn’t have a fish), and you grab his hand just as he starts to turn away. “please, satoru, i need to know,” you breathe, squeezing his hand harder when he flinches. 

ten silent seconds tick by, but you still don’t let go. so satoru sighs, a soft white puff of air coming from his lips. “yeah.”

your heart breaks again.

“then why did you—”

“because i don’t know how to do this,” satoru says, blue eyes darting all over the place. “i love you, i really do, but i just can’t— i don’t like having thousands of people thinking that i’m only worth looking at if i’m with you, it’s annoying and it pisses me off and i don’t want to accidentally take it out on yo—”

you cut him off with a kiss, ignoring the way he yelps a little in surprise. but thankfully, he doesn’t push you away���instead, his arms instantly wrap around you and pull you closer into his warm, warm chest. satoru’s lips are a little dry, but still minty as ever from the peppermints he’s constantly munching on. he kisses you back like a man starved of affection, and when you two finally break apart, his eyes are just as hungry.

“you idiot,” you whisper, trailing your fingers through his hair as tears prick at the corner of your eyes. “you shoulda just talked to me about it first.”

“i know,” satoru mumbles, looking down bashfully. “‘m sorry.”

“you should be.” you pause, watching satoru’s lips curve into a pouty frown. “i’m sorry too,” you murmur, and he looks up, confused. “i should’ve seen this coming.”

satoru shakes his head and presses his lips to your forehead, lingering for a couple seconds before pulling back. “i missed you.”

“i was gone for less than a day, satoru.”

“oh, so you didn’t miss me?”

“i did,” you admit, exhaling a puff of air when satoru smiles smugly. “shut up, it’s not a competition!”

“yeah it is, but fine, you win,” satoru gives in with a dramatic sigh, reaching down and twining his fingers with yours. his hands, which are significantly bigger than yours, instantly warm you up. “but only ‘cause i don’t want you to break up with me next.”

“i hate you, y’know that?” you grumble, leaning into his side and letting satoru kiss the top of your head. he hums in agreement, reaching out and opening your front door. 

“i’m sure you do, baby. now c’mon, let’s get inside n’ warm up. i wanna make it up to you,” satoru says with a grin, bending over and scooping up both boxes. 

“oh, yeah? how do you plan to do that?” you challenge, going inside first and holding the door open for satoru. once he’s inside, you close the door and instantly get pinned against it by satoru, whose hands are already creeping underneath your clothes. “satoru, your hands are col—”

he cuts you off by pressing his equally cold lips to yours, smiling against your mouth as he tugs at your clothes. “i know, baby. but i’ll keep you nice n’ warm for the rest of the night, i promise!”

[reidmania]

WHY WAIT | Spencer Reid.

summary; reader works at a childcare and realises she wants kids sooner than she expected she would and struggles to admit that to Spencer after their agreement to wait a few years.

warnings; 16+, slight angst, a bit suggestive at the end. fem reader, childcare worker reader, mentions babies, wanting babies, avoidant reader, guilt, feeling scared to talk about emotions, talks about feeling empty, references sex, makeout, talks about trying for a baby. lmk if i missed anything

a/n ; i imagined this as post prison reid but literally any works

Your head is almost a foggy mess when you step into the bau office out of the elevator. Your hand grouped your hair before tying it up into a mess of a ponytail but you couldn’t find it to care as your eyes skimmed over the room for your husband.

You had finished work almost an hour ago, to where you were supposed to go out with Spencer for a date night — it was an unspoken agreement between you two that no matter how busy you were, at least once a week you would go out for a date night. It was important for your relationship because of how much Spencer was away.

Working at a childcare had its ups and downs, being vomited on, the headaches from toddlers screaming tantrums and annoying parents weren’t always the best or easiest thing to deal with — but you were doing what you loved.

The little letters or flowers you would be given by kids throughout the say, the big grins on their faces in the mornings, and watching their curious faces grow more and more was so rewarding. The job fit you perfectly it allowed you to be able to be nurturing and caring, like you were in your everyday life.

Normally you worked in the toddler room, which you enjoyed the absolute most, having little conversations, answering their hundreds of curious questions, and reading to them. A few weeks ago however, you had to take over the baby room because one of your coworkers were out sick and causing the baby room to be out of ratio of babies and adults, whereas the toddler room was perfect — you were able to help out, it had been a continuous thing, you would go in and help out whenever due to the low staff in the baby room, over the last few weeks you had spent many days in there.

Only it didn’t go exactly as you expected and not at all in a bad way, you had something about you that was so enhancing to little humans, their adored you — It was no different with the babies.

Only holding them and rocking them to sleep, feeding them bottles and watching them coo and smile made you think too deeply. You couldn’t stop your mind from travelling to the idea of kids of your own.

You and Spencer had talked about it, you wanted kids and he wanted kids, that was definite, but you both also agreed you would wait a few years until Spencer was ready to teach. He didn’t want to risk the chance of not coming home to you and his children — he didn’t want to leave you alone.

And you were completely okay with that. You worked around kids all day so there was no rush for you, you were completely content with the decision. Until recently.

Until it was all you could think about all day, and the entire way home, until you were laying in bed thinking about it, until everyday doing anything it felt like there was something missing, someone missing.

You smiled as your eyes laid on Spencer who was sitting at his desk finishing Paperwork, the only reason you were here was because he had some extra work to do and would be here later than he planned but he wanted to see you. So he called you once you finished and suggested you come here to hang out with him until he finished and then you would go on your date.

You walked up to him, hand gently brushing over his shoulder. He tilted his head to look up at you, the smile on his lips arrived almost instantly after seeing your face. “Hey” He smiled, hand reaching back placing itself ontop of your hand that was on his shoulder.

You repositioned your hand, clasping it over his own. “Hi honey” You leant down to place a gentle kiss on the top of his head. You could feel his thumb rubbing back and fourth over the back of your hand.

“How was your day?” He asked, shuffling around on his chair to be facing you completely as he swung your hands together gently, everything he did was so gentle. You couldn’t stop your mind from imagining him holding your baby in his arms, playing peekaboo with them.

Your mind didn’t stop there. You could just imagine your baby wrapping its small hand around Spencers ring finger where his wedding ring stayed. You could see it all playing out in your mind.

“Baby?” He said after your lack of response, noticing clearly your mind was elsewhere. You looked at him— you were looking at him before but you were really looking at him now, out of your daze.

“Sorry, What?” You apologise as you realise you had basically ignored whatever he was saying, making a small puddle of guilt flood through your stomach.

He tapped his knee, encouraging you to sit down innocently. You did so without question after he repositioned slightly in order to make it more simple and comfortable for you. His hand rested gently against your thigh. “I asked how your day was.” He said softly.

You hummed, turning your head in order to be facing him. “Good” You nodded — purposefully not mentioning any details, too scared you may go into too much detail. You and Spencer had agreed on a timeline for your future and you knew how important timing was, and you didn’t want to ruin that for Spencer just because you had a bit of baby fever.

Or what you passed off as baby fever.

“Yeah?” He muttered, hand raising to brush untied strands of hair out of your face. You nodded in response, leaning into his touch as he hand paused, cupping your cheek slightly. “How was yours?” You ask, you hand trailed behind his head to rest gently in his hair.

“Good, I missed you” He said, head leaning back slightly into your touch. You smiled at the little thing, how his body relaxed at your contact.

“I missed you too, Im sorry I had to leave early this morning” You left before he woke up, which wasn’t normally the case but you were called in because a parent needed to drop off a kid extra early.

He just shook his head, bringing your free hand up to place a gentle kiss to your wrist. You heard your name causing you to turn your head, you smiled widely as you saw JJ — looking very pregnant. It had been a while since you had seen her, last time being at the start of her pregnancy, she would’ve been just over half way now.

“Hi!” You smiled widely, lifting yourself off Spencers lap to wrap your arms around the blonde girl, she reciprocated the action, smiling widely. “Hot mama!! you’re looking great” You smiled once you pulled away, referring to how good she looked.

She chuckled softly, “Thank you.” She said, her hand coming down to her belly, rubbing it gently. Your mind traveled slightly to the idea of you in that position, before you brought yourself out of it.

“When you two gonna start a little family of your own? He will need a friend” JJ teased lightly, a smile on her face.

You smile as you thought about your baby growing up with JJ’s, the idea of them having little playdates while you and JJ could mutually support one another, before your smile slipped slightly when you realised that wouldn’t happen.

You tried not to show it in your face as you pushed out a rough chuckle, shaking your head. You looked over at Spencer who’s eyes were on you with a soft smile on his face, before you looked at JJ.

“Oh no, not for a few more years” You said, you wondered if she could hear the lump in your throat as you talked, a lingering feeling of disappointment taking over your stomach as you plastered a smile on your face.

She frowned, looking between you and Spencer. “You would make amazing parents” She said, gushing slightly at the idea. “Seriously you would be the best mum, wouldn’t she?” She asked, looking at Spencer.

Spencer stood up from his chair to rest his arms around your waist from behind you. You hated the way you slightly tensed before relaxing. “She would” He said, placing a tender kiss your temple.

You pushed out a laugh — it all hurt. In a way you couldn’t explain. It was as if they were taunting you even though you knew they weren’t. You wondered why the universe chose today for JJ to ask the question.

The feeling of loss returned, the feeling of something missing. It had been turning up randomly, doing the littlest things like washing the dishes, doing laundry or just laying in bed at night next to Spencer when he was home — it was worse when he was home. You couldn’t stop thinking about how much you craved your baby lying with you and him.

JJ smiled widely, “Don’t you want kids? Why wait?” She was almost joking, you could hear it in her tone there was a hint of seriousness lingering in it.

“We’re gonna have kids.” Spencer said as if there was no question about it. Your entire body tensed and you hoped Spencer didn’t notice it, you silently prayed he didn’t. “Just in a few years, when everything had calmed down a bit” Spencer said.

Your chest ached at his words more than you cared to admit. A few years, just a few years.

You didn’t know if you could wait a few years. The feeling was taking over every aspect of your life and it was already driving you insane — it had merely been a month.

JJ pouted dramatically as she looked at you, “You would make such a hot mum, full milf” She nodded as she looked you up and down, throwing in a gentle wink.

You chuckled, “I don’t know about that” You brought your hand up to your face, rubbing your cheek gently pushing a smile to your lips as JJ looked at her watch before sighing. “I have to go, how about we go for coffee this weekend?” She suggested looking at you.

You nodded your head smiling as she said her goodbyes before making her way out of the building. Spencer spun you in his arms turning you so you were facing him.

“You’re so beautiful” He said, thumb brushing over your cheek gently as he brought his hand up to your face. He leant down for a moment finally placing a gentle kiss on your lips now that the office was basically empty.

You laughed as you pulled away, “Okay boy wonder, finish up — im starving” You said. He smiled, leaning down to place another kiss against your lips, this one softer and quicker before he turned to sit down.

“Tell me about your day while I work” And you did, leaving out the parts that caused your heart to pull on itself.

The thought never left your mind that night, or any night after that.

“So much for our coffee date” JJ joked after you both ordered hot chocolates rather than coffee’s. You smiled widely at her, shaking your head slightly. “Coffee is overrated” You joked.

She groaned, “Im glad you think that, I’m hardly surviving. My obgyn told me I should cut back a little bit — which is all well and good till I actually had to do it” She said, you watched as her hand instinctively dropped down to her stomach.

There was a feeling in your gut, jealousy? Envy? You weren’t sure but you knew it was beginning to get harder to deal with. You just chuckled, “I could imagine”

The table fell quiet as your eyes dropped to the table, almost wishing you had the struggle of not being able to drink a lot of coffee because you were having a baby — you hated that.

“Alright, no more small talk. Whats up”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as you looked up at her. You pushed a laugh past your lips as your head fell to the side, “What do you mean?” You asked in confusion.

She rolled her eyes playfully. “You have been all… sad. You’re so sad. Why are you sad? I noticed it the other night at the office— Did Spencer do something?” She started out worriedly before becoming slightly defensive of you at the idea that maybe Spencer did something that upset you.

You laughed, “Spencer didn’t do anything. Spencer is amazing.” You reassured lightly. Although the pit in your stomach deepened — you knew exactly what she was talking about and no matter how much you denied it if there was one person able to get it out of you, it would be JJ.

“It was right after I mentioned you having kids… Do you not want kids?” She guessed, it almost made you laugh because it was exactly the opposite. “Does Spencer know?” She asked — everyone knew how much Spencer wanted kids of his own one day.

You shook your head. “I want kids.” You said but the words held more depth. You wanted kids, you wanted a baby and you wanted them with Spencer.

“I still don’t understand why you’re waiting.” She muttered shaking her head and she distracted herself from the topic at hand — which you would’ve been grateful for besides the fact she was now bringing up exactly what was wrong — waiting.

“Spencer couldn’t do it now” You muttered slightly under your breath but she caught it, furrowing her eyebrows she asked why.

You sighed, shrugging. “He loves his job and he wants to wait a few years before he starts teaching. We decided to wait” You said, you tried to hide the disappointment in your voice but that was useless when sitting across from a profiler.

“You don’t want to wait.” She realised, her lips pulling into a frown. You mirrored the look, nodding your head sadly. She huffed slightly.

“It’s alright, really. Its just working around kids all days, babies and toddlers really makes it difficult for me to just—“ You were cut off when your waitresses came to place yours and JJ’s hot chocolates on the table, you both thanked her before she walked away and you continued. “It just makes it difficult to ignore it.”

JJ nodded her head in understanding. “You shouldn’t have to ignore it! You know Im sure if you talked to him—”

You didn’t mean to cut her off, “He wants to wait. If i bring it up he will agree just because it’s what I want, I don’t want that.” You said, shaking your head as you looked down at the hot chocolate in your hands.

“He wants kids.” She said. You knew this but it felt nice hearing it again. “He wants to be a dad and he wants to have kids — with you. Of course he will do it if you want it, thats not a bad thing. He wants it to, theres ways to work around work — you just need to have a conversation about it” She said honestly.

You pushed a smile to your lips as you thought about her words, still there was an overwhelming amount of guilt in your chest. “Ill see how it goes” You say.

It had been two weeks since your ‘coffee’ date with JJ and you still found yourself unable to admit out loud to Spencer that you wanted kids now. He had been away on a case this week, which didn’t help you being alone with your thoughts — but it made it easier trying to hide the feeling of emptiness that had been present for weeks.

Not because of Spencer, he made you happier than you thought humanly possible. There was just something missing, you kept waiting for the feeling to go away but it never did. You kept waiting to be able to fall asleep at night without the feeling of longing for something more.

You were lying in bed, when you heard the front door of yours and Spencer’s home open and close. It was probably some outrageous time in the night. You had been lying in the same position for hours unable to fall asleep.

You heard footsteps you knew all too well coming towards your bedroom. The door opened and you turned slightly to look at Spencer who was tugging his tie off messily as he walked towards the bed, eyes widening when he saw you were still awake.

“Hi” He sighed tiredly, throwing his tie on the floor. As he began unbuttoning his shirt, after pulling off his suit jacket. “Im so glad you’re awake” He breathed out.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you sat up to look at him properly. His hair was a mess and he was rushing to get changed. He hardly finished taking off his pants before he was pulling on grey sweatpants leaving his top half naked as he got in bed next to you.

“Hi” You said.

He smiled, wrapping his arms tightly around your body as he pulled you in close to him, so much so you found yourself straddling his hips as he laid on his back. “Hi” He breathed out again.

You were confused. Of course you adored the affection — evidently he missed you but he was out of breath and you didn’t know why. You looked over at the clock seeing it was nearing three in the morning. Spencer never had this much energy this late at night — especially after being away for a week on a case.

Normally he would come home and just hold you. That was what he needed after being away. Just you in his arms.

“What-” you were cut off by him leaning upwards, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, you hummed slightly as you kissed him back, melting into the softness of his lips. His hand trailed down your torso before slipping under your shirt — which was actually his shirt.

You gasped as you felt his cold hands against the warm skin of your waist. His hands traveled up your back like a mad man — as if he could hardly get enough, he took your gasp into his advantage slipping his tongue into your mouth.

You made out with him for a few minute before pulling away, he chased your lips but you pulled back, “What has gotten into you?” You breathed out — chest rising and falling heavily as you worked to catch your breath.

He looked up at you, eyes full of an emotion you’d never seen on his face, one you couldn’t place. He let out a breath. “Let’s have a baby.”

You swore your heart stopped as your breath got caught in your throat. You were sure your pulse was going haywire as you tried to process what he said. “W-What? Spence.” You moved to slide off his lap, feeling a sense of hurt in your stomach.

His hands gripped your hips, keeping you in place. “Please.” He said breathily. “JJ told me” He said, looking so deep into your eyes. Your eyes widened and your lips parted as you sucked in a harsh breath. You felt a sense of betrayal from JJ but you knew deep down she was just trying to help you. She hated seeing you so.. Sad.

“Spence” You could cry. You swore you could cry.

“Im serious angel. Let’s have a baby. I want a baby.” He said, thumb rubbing over your hip sending a burning sensation to the place his fingertip brushed over.

You frowned, “But you wanted to wait.” You said.

He shrugged his shoulders, “So did you.” He muttered, leaning up to place gentle kisses down your neck.

You tilted your head instinctively at the feeling of his lips gently brushing over your skin. “But you shouldn’t change your- your mind just because I did” You sucked in a harsh breath as you felt his tongue brush over a sensitive spot of your neck.

“I want a baby with you. I want to raise kids with you. I want to be a dad to our children.” He said, pulling away to look at you. “If you’re ready Im ready, I’ll start teaching. I want a baby with you, now.” He said, looking into your eyes. He spoke genuinely.

“Really?” You asked.

He nodded, “Lets start trying.” He said, leaning back down to kiss your neck again.

“Right now?” You laughed out a giggle as your stomach swarmed with an overwhelming amount of happiness.

He hummed against your skin.

“Why wait?”

[blkkizzat]

❛ MY SHORTY ALWAYS ON SOME BULLSHIT LIKE CHICAGO ❜

PART 2

part of the 420 'We Be Burnin' series

⋙ MENU ITEM: PLUG!CHOSO x SORORITYBRAT!READER ⋙ PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 (completed)

⋙ product description (summary): okay so you finally realized how badly you fucked up. but is it too late? will choso even talk to you now? has he moved on for good or is it that you now have to worry about someone else moving onto him? ⋙ side effects (tw): more drama. more angst. teasing. jealousy. thirsting. mentions of sex and oral sex. intoxication with drug & alcohol use. sending nudes. y/n is still a brat. bitchy sorority sisters. party culture. ⋙ thc levels (wc): 8.2k of 22.1k ⋙ inventory notes (a/n): best viewed in dark mode. i appreciate y'all liking this sm hope you don't mind i split this up more, but the second part was getting too unruly in length lol

Plug!Choso who you thought forgetting about would be relatively easy. Overwhelmed with the sheer amount of new presidential duties, you had no shortage of various meetings to keep you occupied. Even so, Choso had a way of popping into your mind as the most routine things would remind you of him. 

You couldn’t go get a fresh set of nails without expecting to see his tinted blacked-out sedan parked outside waiting for you. Scrolling socials had also become annoying as you’d see a post and immediately want to send it to Choso— your sorority sisters would think you were gross if you sent them mukbang videos. You couldn’t even bake anything anymore, especially anything chocolate, without reminding yourself of how much Yuji hated nuts in his chocolate chip cookies. 

Or even now when you had been walking across campus with your sisters and chatting about the massive proposal plan of next year’s sorority activities. A daunting task on its own which you had to submit to your national chapter by the end of the month. In fact, there were a lot of tedious things you realized you’d now be responsible for as president. 

However, all of that flew out of your mind when a car sped by blasting a familiar rock song— one that Choso always played. 

Stopping in your tracks you whipped your head around but the music was coming from a completely different car. The disappointment in your chest felt like you were suffocating.

The song was the first one from Choso’s ‘stoner emo boy playlist’ that you’d actually admitted you liked so he made sure to play it whenever you came around. You didn’t think you were official enough to have a song, but it felt like you did when you’d heard it just now. 

Although what pained you more in the moment was the fact Choso hadn’t even bothered to text you since the day of the brunch. Your pride and guilt kept you from texting him initially but after the first week you caved and did what you once thought was unthinkable— texting a guy first. 

You’d thought he’d answer instantly, happy you’d finally forgiven him for nearly ruining your brunch and you did want to apologize for missing Yuji’s game. But when 20 minutes turned into an hour and an hour turned into the entire day you realized he was ignoring you.

Choso was a dealer. 

He always had his phone on him. In fact, Choso used to respond to you so fast you wondered if he’d always kept your messages up on his screen.

The seriousness hits home when more of your texts go unanswered as the days go by. 

You huffed. 

Two weeks had passed since you first reached out and apparently Choso was still giving you the cold shoulder. Unconsciously chewing on your manicured french tips, your intrusive thoughts paint the absolute worst scenarios. 

This was around the time of day he’d usually be on campus and you’d meet up in the empty garage. 

Would he be there now doing another deal? 

Or giving ‘discounts’ to another girl?

You shook your head. Choso wasn’t like that. 

You knew he wasn’t.

Then again he had stuffed your guts in less than 10 minutes of knowing each other.

But you were the exception right? Choso wouldn’t move on just like that, would he? 

Rejection wasn’t something you had dealt with often in your life or well, ever. 

You’d gotten everything you wanted since you were little whether it was something you worked for or something given to you. 

So what if you didn’t have Choso?

You should be content with life. 

You had everything you’d ever wanted right now. 

You were pretty, got damn near perfect grades and now had the title of sorority president for fuckssake! 

Meeting someone like Choso was never part of your plans and didn’t fit into them either, so you had never really considered what the both of you were to be anything long-term. 

Nor did you ever stop to consider what he thought of your relationship. 

You thought he’d lick his wounds for a few days and forgive you. However with each passing day the thought he might really be done with you sinks in more and more.

Regardless of the legion of frat guys who would jump at the chance to date you, the only guy you really wanted right now apparently wanted fuck all to do with you. 

Ok so maybe you deserve the silent treatment. 

A lot. 

You never been that big of a bitch to him before. But you really had panicked when he showed up out of the blue with your parents on the way! Also if he didn’t go and threaten the DJ like he did???

You sighed. 

No, even under more peaceful circumstances the end result was you weren’t going to leave to go to Yuji’s game. You couldn’t blame him for being furious with you as you knew how protective he was of his younger brother but you at least wish he’d hear you out.

Just for one last time and maybe you could make it up to Yuji too? 

Get him a nice gift for missing his little league game and bake him chocolate chip cookies—without the nuts. You wanted to hear him adorably ramble on which would always be accompanied by animated hand movements while he gave you the rundown. Yuji often roped in Choso as well, who would be all too happy to play whatever role or prop Yuji needed him for. 

Their identical grins, goofy and filled with joy never failed to put a smile on your face. A smile which came easy as there was never any demands put on you when you were with them. No pretending for the sake of appearances, no worrying about social standing and no expectations for favors. 

With them you were just you and they had accepted you.

But had you accepted them? 

Shit. 

Yeah you had fucked up big. 

You knew you needed to talk to Choso and if you weren’t all but certain Choso would slam the door in your face, you’d have half a mind to go pop up at his house. 

Although maybe if Yuji ans—

“—Like HELLO!? Earth to Prez!”

Your train of thought abruptly comes to an end when one of your sorority sisters—Brianna—rudely snaps their fingers in your face. 

Bitch. 

She’d been bitter ever since she’d lost the presidency to you. 

Elections were over so you didn't have to worry about staying on everyone's good side like you had been doing for the last 3 years of being super sweet and non confrontational. Even so, snatching up a fellow sister certainly wouldn’t make a good impression for a newly appointed president.

“What IS it Brie!?” 

Turning to face her you had no choice but to keep your cool.

“Don’t give me attitude! You’re the one not paying attention, space case.”  

Brianna huffed accusingly. 

“Yeah, Brie’s kinda right Prez, you’ve been a little bit distracted lately.” 

Another one of your sisters chimed in—immediately looking down when your eyes narrowed on her.

“Don't tell me the pressure is already getting to ‘Little Miss Legacy'? Or—”

Brianna flips her hair with a sly smile before continuing.

“—is it just that you miss your burnout stalker boy?” 

“E-Excuse me!?”

Extremely disarmed by the allegation, you were not expecting in a million years the very person you were thinking of to be brought up like this by Brianna of all people. 

“You know—you’ve been acting off since the brunch a few weeks ago and we used to be practically swimming in za—way more o’s than we paid for. You must have been doing something to get all that from that future convict and he must be pretty pissed with you if you haven’t been able to get anymore since.”

The rest of your sisters were gagged at the accusations Brianna was tossing your way as it was true that your supply had been dwindling. Their eyes darted between the two of you but mostly focused on you waiting for your response. 

You ignore them though as all your ire was on Brianna.

This whore had some fucking nerve speaking about Choso like that. 

The thought of knocking the smug look off Brianna’s face is almost too tempting —presidency be damned. 

Yet your own guilt stops you.

Too little, much too late for you to be standing up for Choso now the way you had dismissed him so harshly in front of Brianna and the rest of your sisters just a few weeks ago. You could only be mad at yourself, your own actions showed them how to treat Choso.

That didn’t mean you were going to let her get away with it without a proper lashing though. 

“Listen—Brie, Little Miss Legacy is busy juggling the presidency, a 3.8 gpa, volunteer work and planning every goddamn sorority event worth attending. As for you? Well I heard you’d been pretty busy these days juggling your creepy ass T.A. Noaya’s balls because you were going to fail Biology again for the third time—so do you really want to talk about pressure or whose fucking whom for what?”

Standing up for yourself wasn’t something you ever did in an effort to be likable and so Briana, as well as the rest of your sisters, were stunned into silence. 

Even if her fucking for grades had been no secret, it wasn’t something anyone talked about out loud and yet you’d gladly air her out again for insulting Choso.

“Urgh, whatever! Anyways while you were daydreaming we were planning Jeremy's birthday party on Saturday.”

You rolled your eyes at the inattention to some random frat guy’s bday being the reason for this whole confrontation.  

“Oookay and—?”

“—and we need you to get some more za from your stalk— er um, I mean your plug...” 

Brianna quickly corrects herself seeing your eyes flare.  

“Jermey wants a joint filled pinata and we don’t have nearly enough right now to roll all those joints.”

You suck your teeth in annoyance. 

Of course it all had to come back around to Choso.

“I’m not talking to him right now. We’ll find someone else.” 

Well it was half true, more like he wasn’t talking to you. 

You tried not to pout and completely give yourself away at how much it really was affecting you.

“Well start again, Prez! You know his stuff is the best!”

“We already promised everyone we’d have it!” 

“Please Prez!”

The rest of your sorority sisters chimed in.  

“Yeah Prez it shouldn’t be a problem. Send him an ass pic or something, I bet he would respond to that.” 

The rest of your sisters giggled in agreement. 

Little did they know you had already sent Choso nudes 8 days ago, which when you checked Snap last just 10 minutes ago he still hadn’t opened yet. 

You’d die before admitting that though.

“Fine. I’ll figure it out.” 

“Knew you would Prez!” 

Brianna tossed you a fake smile as she turned around and your sisters followed suit walking back towards the sorority house. The chatter now moves on to drink options as the previous conversation is instantly forgotten. 

You still flip the bitch off behind her back though before you catch up to join the conversation lest these dumb bitches skimp out on drinks for more decorations and have you all drinking Monarch vodka again—gross, much more so than a mukbang video.

Plug!Choso who later that night has you laying on your bed staring at your phone suspended over you, your finger hovering over the send button. 

What if he ignored you this time too? 

Worse—what if he had finally blocked you?

Well all your messages had gone through so far even though his read receipts were off. 

Choso hadn’t blocked you yet. 

Only two days had passed since you last texted him but scrolling through your history the wall of blue taking over the entire screen had you feeling vexed.

Hadn’t Choso punished you enough? 

Biting your lip in apprehension you hit send. 

You almost dropped your phone on your face. Sitting up in your bed you stare at his text incredulously as the sticker shock of Choso jacking up the price by $150 hits you.

You deserved that, you supposed. 

But fuck you knew you’d have to come up out of pocket yourself for the extra and you couldn’t admit to your sisters why the price had gone up so much again.

At least he was answering you though. 

You threw your phone across your bed. 

Well that went super. 

You’d hope you’d have the chance to talk about things while he was responding to you, maybe get him to video call you? You knew he still wouldn’t be thrilled with you but you didn’t expect his responses to be that short once he finally answered. 

Choso always over texted you if anything, sending paragraphs at times so these clipped messages were like tiny daggers pricking you with each one you received.  

You didn’t think you could handle him being mean to you like this for much longer. 

Getting a taste of your own medicine fucking sucked.

With a sigh you had decided to push it to the back of your mind. It was Tuesday and he wasn’t even coming until Friday.

That’s when you realized Choso implied he was coming to you. 

As in your sorority house. 

On Friday. 

The night of the Barbie’s Dreamhouse Kegger. 

Goddamnit.

Plug!Choso who shows up to your sorority house on Friday night just before midnight when the kegger is at its peak. Choso doesn’t give a single fuck this time around that he sticks out like a sore thumb with his dark tattered jeans, matching leather jacket, heavy eyeliner and metal piercings amongst all the colorful and peppy pastel attired party-goers. 

Choso waltzes right through the front door like he owns the place.

“Oh! It's you! Finally!” 

Flipping her hair behind her to show off her ample cleavage, your sorority sister Brianna bounces over to Choso who continues to look past her as his eyes scan the foyer.

To be honest he wasn’t even sure she was talking to him until she mentioned you.

“You’re the plug, right? Choso? Here for Prez, hmm?” 

Brianna appraised Choso with a flirty glance and a smile. 

“I’m Brianna, but everyone calls me Brie. She’s outside with her boys! I’ll take you there, kay?”

Her boys?

Brianna batts her eyes sweetly to complement her peppy demeanor. 

Choso simply nods, appearing unphased as Brianna grabs him by the arm of his jacket to lead him through the sea of people crowding the hall and out to the backyard. The very same backyard where you had rejected and humiliated him to save your own superficial social standing just a few weeks ago. 

Of course he hadn’t forgotten. 

Choso noted this time though the expansive yard had a completely different vibe from the pretentious scene he’d walked into before. The backyard was now filled with pink inflatable decorations and rose gold plastered party supplies, trading the expensive crystal for matching pink solo cups and decorative flower displays for shotskis. 

Yet Choso’s comparisons end once he finally spots you in the crowd. 

Playing beer pong with some frat fucks, carefree like you had zero concerns (or thoughts of him) in the world as you taunted your opponents. 

Choso’s eyes narrow when you—clad in a scandalously small pink sparkly tube top—brought a dainty manicured nail to your chest and seductively dragged it down your cleavage to tug at the hem of the fabric. The tops of your tits swell over the edge of the material provocatively as you tease the chance they might altogether spill out onto the table if you pulled any lower.

The plan worked and your opponents thoroughly distracted missed their shots much to your amused squeals and Choso’s growing irritation. His brow twitched as he noticed the rest of your outfit which barely provided any more coverage. 

The matching mini skirt you wore rested low enough on your curvy hips to show the very edges of your thong but high enough on your thighs that your cheeks were nearly peeking out just from the slight bend you took as you aimed to take your next shot. Your pink jeweled belly ring (that he’d bought you) and gem adorned nude fishnets lead down to chunky hot pink glitter pumps only calling more attention to your lower half as they were illuminated by the outdoor tiki lights.

Why were you dressed like such a slut and letting those greasy shitheads drool all over you? 

Your beer pong partner was clearly exaggerating his drunkenness for an excuse to feel you up as his hand rested dangerously close to the top of your ass as you took your next shot. 

Were you that clueless?

Choso’s jaw clenches as you allow yourself to be pulled in by the shoulder tits first into a celebratory hug after landing a cup off a bounce, thus removing two. The way you’d casually let those assholes gawk and grab at you when you wouldn’t even make eye contact with him in public pisses him off like none other and reminds him why he had decided to cut you off after all.

This time though Choso doesn’t march over, masking his resentment with nonchalance as he considers leaving altogether. 

Sure he needed the money—but it wouldn’t make or break him in the long run. 

Keeping the big picture in mind, Choso had Yuji to think of and he couldn’t afford to catch a case over your slutty ass if he actually gave into the urge to knock some random frat fucker’s teeth out.

Yet Choso switches his attention back to Brianna when she returns with a beer filled cup for him and her sheer top unbuttoned even lower. 

Oh? 

Choso grins. 

Plug!Choso who you finally notice standing near the back door of your sorority house next to—Brianna?!…urgh! 

Her obnoxious high-pitched laughter loudly cut through the music and party chatter to draw your attention over. 

What the hell was Choso even doing with her?! 

You grit your teeth as Choso takes the drink. You watch as he reclines against the house and cheers cups together. Brianna is twirling her hair innocently as she flirts with him, giggling like an idiot. 

One without an ounce of shame at that. 

You seethe as she clutches onto his bicep pulling herself closer and resting her tits on his arm when she pretends to momentarily lose her balance. 

Stupid cunt ass bitch. 

You know it's just to spite you too. 

Of course Brianna still didn’t know of the true nature of your relationship with Choso for certain but a backstabbing whore like her would try to fuck him solely off an inkling. 

If anything just so she could say your ‘stalker’ was now hers.

She was just using him! Did Choso not see that?! 

Your beer pong partner slides his arm around you to tell you it’s your turn again but you don’t even spare him a backwards glance as you shrug him off. Abandoning the game and ignoring his puzzled calls after you. 

Truthfully it doesn’t even register as you are on your warpath with Choso and Brianna in your sights, stomping directly towards them like you were on a mission. You were too, as far as you were concerned, determined to break that shit up expeditiously. 

Especially now as you see Brianna airdropping her contact info to Choso.

Stopping directly in front of them you’re far too tipsy to prevent your souring mood from spreading all over your face when they both seem to not notice you right away.  

You loudly clear your throat.

“AHEM!”

Staring at Choso expectantly your lip curls when it's Brianna who greets you first instead.

“Oh Prez, my B girly! We didn’t notice you there!” 

“Whatever, Brie.”

You sneer at her. 

Although Brianna only giggles again, feigning innocence and leaning into Choso a bit more. 

The whore was still touching up on him.

“I was just keeping Cho here company until we found you.”

Bullshit, they were searching fo– Hol’ the fuck up—CHO?! 

Did this whore just call him Cho?! 

That was your fucking nickname for him! Only you and Yuji were allowed to call him that!

Oh Brianna was just begging for that ass whooping, dying for it even. 

Swaying on your feet, your buzz only intensifies your anger and folding your arms in front of you serves two purposes at the moment: 

To keep your balance as you try to prevent your heels from sinking into the grass— but more importantly— because the urge to yank a bitch was escalating to the point your hands were now twitching. 

You had drank way too much in your nervousness waiting for Choso.  

You thought a quick round of beer pong would settle your anxieties as you’d been hanging out near the front door all day and night not knowing when he’d show up. However time had slipped away from you and one game had turned into three. 

You didn’t even really know the guys you were playing with, just some random freshman!

Of course once you finally let your guard down Choso would not only show up but be hanging out with your biggest opp!

But what really had you about to crack—Choso was taking his sweet time in acknowledging you as he appeared to be more concerned with checking Brianna’s contact info than speaking to you right in front of him. “Ight, got it.” 

Choso confirmed and slid his phone back into his jacket before pulling out a joint as he finally made eye contact with you.

THE FUCK!? HE ACTUALLY SAVED IT?! 

Plug!Choso who stares at you with a condescending smirk as his eyes twinkled with sadistic amusement before exhaling smoke towards the sky.

You bite your cheek to hold back your angry tears, you weren’t about to give Brianna the satisfaction. She could fuck right the hell off as far as you were concerned, only wanting to speak to Choso who was currently looking at you like you were the one interrupting something.

“W-Why didn't you text me you were here?! I would have come outside!” 

Your words fumble out of you drunkenly, not sounding one bit as smooth and unbothered as you hoped.

“For why tho? Don’t you have me silenced anyway, Prez?”

You stiffened. 

Even if he wasn’t silenced right now you couldn’t deny you had previously silenced him before the last few weeks of trying to get him to talk to you. 

“Yea figured—so thought it’d be best to come inside…”

Choso exhales smoke through his nose this time, leering down at you as he passes the joint to Brianna who eagerly takes it.

“You really think I’m still tryna wait for you?”

Choso’s words are crushing as the double meaning behind them is not lost on you. Parting your glossed lips you couldn’t even form a sentence as your mouth had gone completely dry.

Brows raised Choso is practically daring you to challenge him. 

But you’re frozen. 

Ironic, because his eyes are all but intensely burning into yours as his accusingly cruel question penetrated you like a hot knife to butter. 

However, bringing you back, Brianna interrupts the moment—because of course she does—not being able to read the damn room nor handle the attention being away from her for 5 fucking seconds.

“You know Prez… You’re going to be pretty busy with all your responsibilities soon...”

Brianna taps her stiletto shaped nail to her lips in faux contemplation. Her smarmy expression gives away her true intentions resembling every bit of the evil bitch she is. 

“...Annnnnd it won’t look good for our lovely new president to put herself at risk by getting us drugs, right? Sooooo, I was telling Cho here how I’m going to be the one taking over for you now.”

Brianna coyly tucks a few loose strands of her long tawny locks behind her ear. 

“Who knows? I might be able to get a better discount than you too.”

Passing the blunt back to Choso she winks at him. Choso merely chuckles, shaking his head at the implications before taking another hit.

And yeah that’s what fucking did it alright.

More than ready to give Brianna exactly what the fuck she’d been asking for you wordlessly lunge forward to snatch her up by those raggedy ass microlink extensions she couldn’t stop touching.

However your trajectory is thrown when you feel Choso grab you by your wrist. Pulling you in towards him, the action confused both you and Brianna—who didn’t know how close she was to actually kissing dirt.

Choso passes the joint back to Brianna, telling her to keep it as a ‘sample’ he turns his attention back towards you.

“Come on Prez, I got places to be. Get me my money now before I charge your ass the full stack.”

You both leave Brianna standing there dumbfounded as Choso drags you back into the house. 

Plug!Choso guides you through the crowd of your sisters that are all now much too drunk and self-involved in their own good time to care about the pierced n’ scary dark haired man towing their president behind him. 

Reaching the staircase Choso motions for you to go ahead of him and you nod dumbly as you obediently climb the stairs trying not to trip. 

Urging you along, Choso is right on your tail— quite literally, as he tries to simultaneously avoid staring at your ass cheeks jiggling out from under your skirt—but more importantly tries to keep any other wandering eyes below from getting a peek as well. 

Choso places a hand on your waist, both to keep you from falling and to move you along quicker. Warm tingles radiate out from where his hands touch your bare skin yet he instantly releases you once you reach the top.

You can’t help but to pout at the loss of contact.

“Which one?”

Choso still feels all business though as he walks ahead of you like he can’t wait to wrap this up and get you the fuck out of his life again.

Plug!Choso who you usher into your room before closing the door. The party seems distant as only the faint sounds of the base bumping against the walls reach the sanctuary of your room. Still holding the knob you’re leaning with your back against the doorframe as your body is still pumping insane amounts of adrenaline through you. 

Nearly fighting Brianna, Choso finally touching you, on top of being drunk had your mind going into overdrive especially since it seemed like Choso would leave as soon as the deal was over.

Would he really take the money and go just like that?

Choso’s face is unreadable as he strolls deeper into your room and casually looks around. You had always come over to his place and he would have never in a million years dreamed of being able to see your room in your actual sorority house. 

It was so you though. 

Tidy and adorned in your favorite colors, your walls are decorated with pictures of celebrities, friends and various moodboards. Not to mention it smelled like you. The scent of your sugary perfume with notes of vanilla and saffron assaulted Choso's senses making it seem a bit warmer in the room than it actually was.

“Yo Prez, the money.” 

His patience for the situation is dwindling. He has to get out and fast. 

Choso doesn’t know what he’ll do if he doesn’t leave soon.

Yet you were plotting the exact opposite and you couldn’t let him leave so easily now that you finally had him alone after all this time. 

Armed with a plan you nod as you scoot by him and over to your vanity to retrieve the cash. Acting clueless as to which drawer you put it in, you search them all as you bend over to check one of the drawers at the very bottom. 

Choso swallows hard.

Your ass–with plenty of curves to spare–is on display for him as well as your sheer pink thong that teasingly pokes out between your crystal studded fishnets. 

You had to be doing this on purpose. 

Swishing side to side your skirt raises up a bit higher with every shift of your hips while your thong strains tighter across the print of your fat pussy lips threatening to snap altogether.

Akin to a seductive pendulum as you sway before Choso completely entrancing him. 

Only you could ever affect him in this way.

After what feels like years do you finally locate the money, a sizable stack of cash composed of 20 dollar bills.

“Found it! In the top drawer all along, imagine that!”

Smirking you plop down in your vanity chair crossing your legs not missing how Choso’s gaze lingered, even if just the tiniest moment, on your thighs.

“Took ya long enough…” 

Choso mumbles. There's no real bite to his words this time though. He’s holding his backpack close to hide his half chub while he removes 3 hefty bags of kush from his backpack to toss on the desk beside you.

Reaching for the cash his annoyance is evident on his face when you jerk away from him. Leaning back and fanning the bills across your chest, you wave them tauntingly in the air.

“Stop playin’ around. Not in the fuckin mood, I swear.”

“Playing?”

You question acting coy.

“This is just business right Choso?”

You sat up as if you were taking this seriously at all and Choso is unamused as he reaches for the money again. 

And you snatch it back yet again like a fucking brat. 

“I’m practically dropping a stack on this–thanks to your new “tax” and all. How do I know if it's any good?”

Clearly your plan is working as you continue to push Choso’s buttons pretending you aren’t excited from him towering over you now.

“Cut the games, Prez. Ya know my shit is always pressure.”

You act contemplative as your eyes lazily travel up his tense muscular form appreciating the view after not seeing him for so long.

“Hmmm, do I though?”

Choso scoffs, growing tired of your games. 

That’s all he ever was to you, a game.

“Like I said, just business. Or are you telling me you weren’t going to count the cash to make sure it's all there before you left?”

Damn. Well you got 'em there. 

Choso rubs the back of his neck before letting out a frustrated sigh.

“Tch—let’s make this quick then, Prez.”

Plug!Choso who after grabbing one of the bags of weed off your vanity takes a seat on your bed. He shrugs off his jacket to retrieve a pipe from the inner pocket and impatiently extends his hand hurrying you with a quick beckoning gesture.

“Gimme your grinder.”

Rolling your eyes you haphazardly toss it over to him. However, unbeknownst to you, the top was loose and crumbles of kush spilled out of it and onto your bed when he failed to catch it.

“Nice looking out Cho, great catch.”

Even though the poor throw and loose top had been your fault, the fact he apparently couldn’t wait to fucking leave along with you still pissed with how he flirted with Brianna makes you lash out. 

“You fucking serious right now? I’m always lookin’ out for your ungrateful ass.”

Obnoxiously you huff, crossing your arms and turning your head away from him.

Ungrateful? For what!? 

He hadn’t been ‘looking out’ for the last month, he’d been completely ignoring you! 

“Heh, like I didn't just stop you from turning that gouda chick into actual cheese from the way you went at her?”

You press your lips together firmly to keep from cracking a smile at his play on Brianna’s nickname. You’re honestly still salty he had even been around her at all getting so chummy. He’d always talked about how stupid your sorority sisters were, it didn’t make sense why he let her flirt with him like that.

You’re also mad he didn’t at least let you pop her one good time.

“The bitches name is Brie. You should know, you were ‘oh so concerned’ about saving her number and giving her a discount.”

Choso looks at you like you’re an idiot as he shakes his head. He stops packing the bowl to throw you his phone.

“Whose number?”

Frowning, you already know the passcode so you unlock it right away. 

Sure enough there was no Brie nor Brianna in his contact lists. Not even her number showed up when you searched his phone for it in case it was under a completely different alias. 

He’d never even saved it. 

The smug smirk on Choso’s face tells you he knew what she was doing all along and got you all riled up on purpose.

In fact, Choso had recognized Brianna’s ploy immediately. You had previously mentioned something about an annoying n’ bitchy rival. 

Besides, there was no other plausible reason for a dumb sorority bitch like her to be talking to him at all—much less throwing herself at him so aggressively.

“Doesn’t feel good now does it, Prez?”

Your face is on fire and you turn away from Choso totally humiliated. You had played right into his hands.

“Hmph! Don’t get cocky, I wanted a reason to beat her ass anyway.”

You puff your cheeks into a pout that Choso can’t help but to chuckle at, shaking his head at you again. 

You were a huge brat that's for damn sure.

“Well, it certainly looks like you found one.”

You’re quiet finally as you rake over his words in your mind. 

‘I’ve always been looking out for you.’

Not only did he not save Brianna’s number there’s a high probability he just kept you from being kicked out of the entire sorority and maybe school too. Fighting was a huge no-no and you could have gotten expelled. Apparently jealous with rage you were ready to risk it all at that moment without even thinking of the consequences. 

Fuck.

Choso had in fact still been looking out for you—even when you didn’t deserve it. 

Plug!Choso who accepts your silence is a sign of your defeat and after a few minutes you move from your desk to sit next to him on your bed as he finishes grinding and packing the bowl. 

“Brats get greens this time.”

I’m paying a premium for all this shit, I better get greens. 

But you hold in that thought, not wanting to give him any more lip in the moment as you’re the one left licking your wounds this time.

Like a gentleman Choso holds the bowl for you and lights it as you take a hit. He tries not to notice how well your glossed lips are wrapping around the phallic mouthpiece as searingly thick smoke flows into your lungs. 

Damn, this shit was dank as hell. 

You’re doing your best to hold it in but your lungs are burning as you watch Choso take a hit himself. Not being able to keep in your coughs for a second more you’re left signaling at Choso to ‘wait a sec’ when he holds the pipe out back to you.

Fuck, it was even stronger than what you remembered.

“See Prez? True pressure.”

You shrug at him trying to save face although your eyes are watering, already tinting a bright shade of red.

“Uhh duh, I always cough Choso. I’ll still need a few more hits to know for certain.”

Choso rolls his eyes.

You take another hit—a smaller one this time—before slowly falling back onto your bed.  

Your eyes close as your high settles in and you debate on what to say next without fucking things up even more with your slick ass mouth. 

However your concentration is diminishing quickly as your buzz makes your senses overly aware of Choso’s intense body heat radiating off him, your thighs practically touching. 

The weed swirling together with the alcohol in your system makes you all the more sensitive. Your mind floats away as your gaze is hyper focused on how the lean muscles of Choso’s toned back and broad shoulders ripple under the thin black tee he wears.

God, Choso is so sexy. 

Your legs squeeze together to calm the burning in your core just from the thought. You want nothing more than to drag him down to bed with you and melt into his embrace—but there's an invisible force field around him that you can’t reach. 

You’re almost certain he would recoil from you if you tried now. 

There’s a conversation you needed to have first but you didn’t know how to start it without fucking things up even more. 

The result is an awkward silence that uncomfortably settles in the room as Choso finishes the bowl off himself. 

Never one to smoke too much of his own product he’s only indulging now to temper his mood. 

Choso doesn’t know why he’s still here, all good sense in him telling him to take the money and get the hell out. Yet he knows he’s hoping for something–anything–to show him you’ve changed even though all signs so far tonight have been showing him you haven’t.

You’re still cowering away from any accountability and he is determined not to give you an easy out this time. 

And it’s for that exact reason Choso can’t look over at you right now.

Otherwise he’s sure to see your tiny pink top that had started to roll up exposing the glitter adorned skin of your underboob. Or how your slow exhales cause your soft stomach to dip temptingly showing off the pink crystal belly button ring he gave you. 

The sight of your fishnets brushing against one another out of the corner of his eye alone is enough to know he wouldn’t be able resist grasping onto your supple thighs. God how he would relish the way his fingers would indent into them. He wanted to rip those slutty fishnets right off of you so his head could push your skirt up even further on your hips while he drowned himself in your wet cunt—not even stopping when you would cry from overstimulation.

Plug!Choso, who is thankful his distraction at long last comes in the form of the faded gray blue fabric by your pillow. 

“Yo!..is that my shit?”

Eyes opening wide, you pale upon seeing Choso reach for the crumpled up shirt. Choso unravels the tee to confirm it is in fact his shirt—one of his favorite band tees at that. 

“Oh, is that yours?”

Choso deadpans.

“So you listen to RHCP now?”

“Maybe…” 

You grab it from him and toss it to the side less you break down and confess to him you had slept in it most nights. Not only have you slept in it but you do in fact listen to RHCP now, especially when you workout.

However with this Choso has hit his limit. 

To him you hadn’t changed. 

Could you not even own up to the tiniest of things?

He couldn’t let himself get sucked back into your toxic web, not anymore. The longer he stayed the more likely that was.

“S’all good, Prez. Keep it.”

Choso grabs his jacket.

“Listen, I gotta g–”

“—w-wait!” 

You grab the other end of his jacket. You still find it difficult to find the right words but you had to say something. 

It was now or never.

“W-Wait… ah, at least before you go…l-let me know how Yuji’s game went?”

You meekly ease into the question but see Choso go ridgid at the mention regardless. 

For now he relents and stays seated. Although a few minutes pass before he speaks.

“He won, of course. MVP of the season.”

You smile genuinely at that but Choso isn’t looking at you— too pained by the memories that began to bubble up again like bile in his throat.

“Awe, that's so great! I knew he would! I’m so happy for him.”

Choso grits his teeth as he turns back to you, his anger evident in his entire being as every muscle in him flexes.

“Are you? So that’s how you treat someone you’re happy for? Really?!”

He doesn’t give you the chance to respond.

“Yuji’s a strong kid— much stronger than me. Honestly, I didn’t even think he minded you weren’t there as he was all focus and excitement to play that day—”

You let out a quiet exhale in relief though any consolation you felt was instantly shattered as Choso continued. 

“But when I put him to bed that night. H-He..He’d asked why you weren’t there…He asked if you were gone now like our parents. Yuji wouldn’t believe you’d miss it otherwise.”

Choso struggles to say the last bit and maintain eye contact with you. 

Every moment you gaze into his eyes though was pure torture as you’re racked with even more guilt.

“Choso I–”

“I’m so fuckin’ tired of all your fuckin’ excuses!”

You’re silent. It’s so strange to see him this upset you don’t know what to say.

“I’d ask you if you’d even considered the abandonment issues that kid already carries but you don’t. You don’t fill that fuckin’ superficial lil’ head of yours with anything beyond yourself!”

Finishing what he had to say, Choso gathers up his jacket and backpack, stuffing it full with the stack of cash on the vanity—not even bothering to count it.

Momentarily dumbfounded, you're scrambling from the bed to block his path. 

“C-Come on, Choso! I didn’t want to abandon him or you! I tried to call you and I texted you so much these past few weeks to talk!”

Choso isn’t impressed.

“And not one text actually had the words ‘I’m sorry’ in it. Not that it would have cut it this time.”

You're reduced to silence for the umpteenth time tonight. 

You wreck your brain knowing most of your texts had been focused on baiting him to respond to you but fuck—did you really not even apologize? 

“But I am sorry!”

Choso’s gaze is cold and distant, so foreign in comparison to the warmth you’d taken for granted before.

“Whatever you say, Prez.”

There it is again. You’ve grown to resent the title, the job, everything about it.

“Just stop calling me that, okay?!”

You’re trying hard to fight back the tears that threateningly pool in the corners of your eyes.

“What...Prez? Why, it aint all that they cracked it up to be?”

“N-No… it’s n-not… I actually hate it and I hate being here.”

Your voice is hardly above a whisper as you direct your words towards the ground. You didn't want Choso to see your glassy eyes even if he’d noticed the cracks in your voice. 

Plug!Choso who regards you with skepticism but curiosity nonetheless. So at long last you decided to be honest with both him and yourself aloud for the first time.

But it didn’t mean shit if you wouldn’t do something about it.

“Then quit.”

Choso says to you like it’s the most obvious answer in the world as your head snaps up incredulously.

“H-huh? W-What?!”

“You heard me princess— quit.”

Could you really just quit? 

Truthfully, you had never considered it an option. The expectations put on you by your sorority sisters, your parents and the plans you had made for yourself had all led you to the commitments and responsibilities you had now. 

How could you just let them all down by walking away from it all?  

“Choso— I heard you..b-but I can’t, you don’t understand I–”

“—No, I understand better than you do, princess. You spent so much time with me and Yuji because you hate this sorority bullshit, you can’t stand any of these bitches and now you just agreed to be president of your own goddamn misery!”

Reading you for filth, Choso stares at you expectantly but you avoid his gaze.

Your nails suddenly becoming all the more interesting as you fumble with them.  

“–Ight then.”

Choso doesn’t want to argue with you any longer. 

You’re still full of excuses to his disappointment. If you wanted to be something you weren't that badly, then that was your own prerogative he decided as he brushed past you.

“N-No! P-Please, don’t leave Cho!”

There's clear desperation in your voice. You cling to him, burying your head into the middle of his back as your shaky hands weave their way around his midsection. 

Choso is mid-twist on the doorknob. 

He had all intentions of leaving if you still weren't being honest with yourself about things.

Still does. 

Yet his determination is wavering from your hot tears begin to seep through his shirt and trickle down his spine. The warmth of your body—now flattened against his—causes your pert nipples to poke into his back while your delicate fingers wretchedly grasp onto his taunt abs like a lifeline. 

Like you actually needed him in your life.

Fucking hell, you didn’t play fair at all.

But he couldn’t forgive you just to hurt him again and especially not Yuji.

“Let go.”

“No.”

“I said let go!”

“NO!”

Choso easily pries you off of him, spinning you around as your back slams against the door pinning you in place. His hands encircle your arms and extend out fully so he could put some distance between the two of you. 

He couldn’t think straight when you were all over him. 

Your world is a blur and in your crossfaded state you are left with vertigo at the sudden shift of positions. Both you and Choso are left panting at the intensity of it all.

“You don’t listen to anyone do you?! You just do whatever the fuck you want…”

Choso’s face is red with anger and your eyes—already reddened from your high—take on a deeper shade as you are now openly bawling in front of him.

“Tch, why are you the one crying? This is how you want things, right?!”

You shake your head, unable to communicate beyond your pitiful sobs. 

Choso grows more and more frustrated as the guilt he is feeling battles with his more rational mind prompting him to still be angry with you despite your tears. Back and forth his mind races until it all bubbles over and—

“—You don’t think I know I’m not good enough for you!?”

Your teary eyes widen at the sudden admission. 

Choso even startles himself with his own confession he’d been holding in all this time. 

“But not Yuji...He’s already so much better than me! He’s gonna actually be something one day. He doesn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

Your lip quivers and your pleas are almost unintelligible.

“I-I know…m’s-sorry…m-m’so sorry C-Choso!”

Choso exhales deeply and shoulders slump forward as he releases you, running a hand over his face and back through his raven locks.

You couldn't read his expression but you didn't want him to attempt to leave you again as you close the gap between you, arms encircling him once more.

Choso doesn’t push you away, yet to his credit he doesn't return your embrace either as he’s still torn.

“I-I missed y-you so m-much.”

Cursing the hold you have over him Choso can’t deny he still wants to be with you—but you both were at an impasse.

Nothing good would come from repeating the same cycle again. 

There is no resolution if you still want to keep up a front. 

“P-Please forgive me Cho—I-I love you.”

The sweet proclamation is accentuated by your pillowy lips spreading kisses over his chest while the tips of your fingers slip up his shirt to place feather light scratches at the small of his back. 

Love, eh?

An unexpected revelation dawns on Choso and he is now resolved in what he has to do. 

“Yeah princess, you really love me?” 

Oblivious to the danger edging in his voice, you nod as you continue to coo affectionate words and affirmations into his chest. One of your legs hitches around his as you mold yourself deeper into him thinking he’d finally forgiven you. 

Had he forgiven you though? 

Well, not exactly. 

A devious smirk appears across Choso’s features.

Choso had come to the conclusion that at the end of the day you were simply a terrible people pleaser. 

Your stuck up bratty nature was merely a front of false confidence. 

You tried so hard to become whatever anyone else wanted you to be, you'd lie to yourself and become utterly miserable in your efforts to appease those around you. 

However, Choso knew the version of you he’d gotten when you’d been with him and Yuji had been the real you. 

And he actually did believe you loved him— even if you had just forced yourself to say it in the moment so you could manipulate him into staying.

Sympathetic to your pitiful nature, Choso wouldn’t just abandon you. 

But if you couldn’t do what was best for you, he would make sure you would himself.

PART 3

⋙ ©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

⋙ I'm about halfway through P3, its 5.5k already lol. stick with me though cause pt 3 is the nasty brat taming smut we all are waiting for! if i tagged you here i will tag you again for p3 but im still adding new people to tag list so lmk in comments or reblogs if you'd like to be added. trying to focus to finish this but my adhd might distract me into writing a quick gojo fic but if i do i will finish this right after!

⋙tags: (ps ty for all the sweet comments for those who joined my overall writing tag list yall legit had me in tears ilysm!) @nkogneatho @toji-girl-main @RoyaltyAndRoses @aydene @slowlyshycomputer @bontensbabygirl @yoonjinhusbands @anxious-chick @kashxyou @halosdiary @littlemochabunni @ryomens-vixen @buttercupblu @tonycries @lowkeyremi @strawberrygirl0 @crybaby-herbalist @rintcrous @bomboclakkk @anubisisthebomb @alwaysfreakingout @oeanonyme @chrys23 @spltbtch @uranometrias @officialsimpp @crispycatt @purple-obsidian my-jukebox @peachyharts111 @thedorklingqueen @sugurusprettygirl @scarasw1f3 @kgorethz @c1truswh4re @madaqueue

[byexbyez]

love me more | leon kennedy x f!reader

pairing: re4r!leon kennedy x f!reader

summary:

“C’mon, it’ll be convenient.”

You hate that word. You hate that word with your whole being. Back then, it meant something entirely different when he said it. We can get to know each other, then we can get married. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. It’ll be convenient. Convenient is why you married him. Convenient is why you are here now.

word count: 19k

warnings: 18+ towards the end, angst, yearning, marriage of convenience but there isn't a tangible convenience, strangers to spouses dynamic, grief/mourning, depictions of depression and low self-esteem, also trauma and anxiety, family issues, kinda touch-starved leon if you squint, domestic fluff if you try hard enough, non-linear and vague timeline, mentions of canon typical violence, alcohol and cigarette consumption, p in v smut, brief alternation of POVs, ada wong mention, suicidal thoughts, minor original character, minor character death, spoilers to the hunchback of notre dame, no use of y/n

notes: meant to post this on tumblr after i was done with it but that never happened so here, have it. took me 16 months to post it here lmao. english is not my first language. you have been warned. also beware of a whole lot of mitski and hozier references. enjoy!

➵ read on ao3.

PART I | PART II | PART III

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And I am the idiot with the painted face In the corner, taking up space But when he walks in, I am loved, I am loved

Me and my husband We're doing better

—Me and My Husband, Mitski

It’s quiet. It has always been that way from the start. Your husband is late, which is not unusual. You sit in the somber light coming from your living room TV. You don’t like the overhead lights, which explains the abundance of lamps around the living room and bedroom in your home. Your husband found it strange that you never turned on the actual lights but it didn’t take him long to realize that you were right. Any kind of overhead light was annoying to him now. He blamed you for his headaches at work.

No matter how many times you told him that he could turn on the overhead lights he insisted that he did not like them anymore. “I like it like this,” he had said. “You’re right, it’s cozier this way.” His head was on your knee, his eyes were closed. He looked so peaceful. You wanted to brush his hair away from his face and maybe scratch a bit as if he was a cat. But you didn’t, you had no idea what he would react like to such an intimate gesture. You turned your gaze away from his peaceful sleeping face to the TV you had been watching on low volume before he stepped through your home’s front door.

It was a fucking joke, really. Thinking twice, three times about touching the man that you call your husband.

You hear his keys jumble from the door. He didn’t tell you what time he would be home, so you didn’t prepare anything for dinner. It’s late anyways. You consider closing your eyes and resting your head on the back of the couch but it hasn’t been long since he told you he could tell when you were not sleeping. You thought about the number of times you pretended and he could tell. Embarrassing. Now that your secret was out, you had to greet him awkwardly.

He calls your name. “Are you asleep?” His voice very faint.

“No,” you answer while untucking your legs from under your butt. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He places the keys on the keyholder. “No lights?”

You reach to your side and turn on one lamp. “I didn’t realize the sun had set.”

“It’s past eleven.” Now that the lamp was on you could see his worried eyes. His five o’clock shadow prominent. “Did you eat anything?” he asks. You can’t tell if he hopes you did or not.

The moment you see the plastic bag in his hand, you shake your head no. Honestly, you were hungry because it had been hours since you ate a bowl of cereal as dinner.

He steps over your legs instead of pushing the coffee table away to make room for himself and plops next to you on the couch. “Brought Chinese,” he says and places the food bag on your lap instead of the coffee table. “You like their fried dumplings.”

You aren’t surprised that he remembers it. He was nice like that, maybe he thinks this is the least he can do. Soon after the wedding, he realized you did not enjoy cooking. It has never been a problem, he knew his way around the kitchen and knew of really good takeout places.  

“Thank you,” you say softly while leaning on the table to place the noodles and the dumplings. “Leon, did you drink?” you ask when you catch a whiff of him.

“Yeah, I’m a little tipsy.”

That explains his lax attitude. He has his arm around you across the back of the couch, he’s sitting close to you. It’s because he wants to eat, you say to yourself. And he’s a little tipsy.

“Did you have fun?” you ask when you separate your chopsticks.

“I wasn’t with anyone,” he says, watching you separate his chopsticks for him. “I had a drink by myself.”

“Only one?” you chuckle.

“One or two,” He cocks his head to your direction and grabs the chopsticks from your fingers. His fingertips are warm.

Unlike you, his body always runs hot. You remember the comment he made when he held your hand and cupped one cheek, kissing you after you two had said “I do”. His breath was hot on the lower part of your face. You somehow felt him everywhere and nowhere at once. “It’s really hot, why are your hands cold?” he had whispered. It was unusually hot on the day you eloped. Leon had to dab his sweat away so often.

“I’m just nervous,” you had whispered back. The hand that he was not holding was trembling, surely, he could tell.

“No need to be.” That was what he said right before your first kiss. It was more of a short peck because he was a gentleman who didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

It was easier for him to say, he didn’t have anything to be nervous about. He looked really beautiful that day and it didn’t help your nerves one bit. You felt like you were committing a crime while signing your documents that sealed the fact that you were now married to Leon Kennedy. You wonder if he felt the same, knowing this marriage was not a real one.

You didn’t lie to anyone really, so why did it feel like you did? You never told anyone you were in love. You never told anyone this was legit. You just told your sister you were married and that Leon was a good man. She had shrieked over the phone, demanded that you quit joking. The moment she was convinced that you were not, she expected pictures of him. The only picture you had of him was from the day you eloped. He had taken your cold hand and placed it on his arm. His other hand on his stomach so he didn’t look awkward. You had raised your small bouquet of baby’s breath to your torso as well. You did not look as nervous as you thought when the photo came in the mail but Leon looked more handsome than you remembered. You emailed it to your sister.

It didn’t take long for her to respond. How the hell did you bag that man??? Do you have blackmail material against him?

We met at work, you replied shortly.

I thought you worked with dudes that are old as fuck.

We don’t work together. Met through a coworker.

Maybe I should change careers. I mean how hard can it be to train as a government agent???

You looked at the multiple question marks she sent after that. I’m telling your husband.

I showed him the picture and he agrees that he’s hot lol. He also would like to have you guys over.

So you both can ask him what he sees in me?

Hey, I’m only joking. We would really like you guys to come over. I want to meet my brother-in-law.

I’ll tell him but he’s very busy.

Sooo what does he do?

Like I said, he’s an agent. Mostly confidential work.

So you can’t tell me?

I really can’t.

You know what? It’s annoying that you can’t tell me what he does but I can understand. What I can’t understand is you getting married. Out of the blue. Without telling me.

That email left a bitter taste in your mouth. She could tell that it was not real. She knew that you were not easy to love. She knew it was impossible for you to get married. That’s why you stalled her invitation for nearly two years. You hadn’t even asked Leon because you did not know how he would react. He knew you had a sister across the country and that she was older than you but never asked about her for a while. You weren’t offended at his uninterest in your life. He didn’t have any reason to be interested in you.

He did say he was an orphan, that one time.

It all made sense after that, he didn’t like to talk about families. Maybe because he wasn’t used to belong. To belong to a family. Belong to someone. Think about them because he belongs to them and they belong to him.

All things considered, you thought Leon turned out more than okay. Closed off but very kind, gentle, understanding.

He leans forward and helps you split one dumpling into two with his chopsticks. His shoulder bumps yours and stays there because he refuses to let go of the back of the couch behind you. When you pull your sleeve over your fingers, he quickly eats one whole dumpling, leaving you with the smaller one that he helped you split and covers your hand with his.

“You cold?” He looks silly when he stuffs his face full of food.

“No.”

“Your hands are cold.” He doesn’t’ say like always but it’s there in his voice.

He doesn’t mind touching you when he’s in a good mood, mostly when he’s a little intoxicated like this. Usually, he’s not a touchy person. You’re glad he’s not, it reminds you that you definitely like him more than he likes you. He needs the little nudge of alcohol to let go of his inhibitions. He didn’t touch you until you gave him the green light on your birthday. He didn’t know what to get you as a gift so he got you yellow roses and the blandest birthday card known to man.

Happy Birthday, from Leon.

“It isn’t anything special, I know.” He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m not good at this stuff.”

But it was special, it was from him; with his emotionally constipated, probably unintended curt message. You knew deep down he had a big heart. He cared enough to stop on his way to get you these. You didn’t think much, because there were times when you didn’t need to think about this, you just reached and hugged him around his waist. “Thank you,” you whispered. “They smell really nice. We need to get a vase for them.”

He finally put his arms around you and you felt the stiffness of his shoulders on top of yours. It was six months into your married life.

Yellow roses. He saw you as a friend. You were okay with it, as long as it meant he was not pushing you away. You were not terrible by any means. Boring and awkward, definitely. But you made it clear to him that he could talk to you about what he wanted when he wanted. He was adamant that it went both ways. However, you genuinely don’t think anything going in your life is worth talking about. Hence, he’s the one who ends up talking most of the time.

He rubs your fingers to bring them warmth. The air of the living room feels awfully similar to that one time he surprised you and laid his head on your lap. That one time you wanted to play with his hair but didn’t. It was just like this. Quiet despite the TV’s low volume, comfortable as the light coming from the lamps was soft on the eyes, smelling of alcohol as he was a little drunk. Unsure as your hands were cold and was this what being friends meant?

Sometimes he craved the quiet. He worked and worked and worked. Voices everywhere. Danger constant. His only quiet was home, you suppose.

“Why didn’t you eat?”

“I ate cereal,” you answer him.

“Has no nutritional value whatsoever,” he mutters.

“Yeah, it’s just me being lazy.”

“I don’t think we have anything in the fridge, I don’t blame you.”

You both finish your food in silence, you pretend to watch the screen in front of you the whole time. You hug your knees to your chest when you’re done and he looks like he can fall asleep any minute.

“How was your day?” you ask to keep him awake. You don’t want him to sleep here and have his back and neck all sore tomorrow.

He rests his chin on his shoulder and gives you a funny look through his long lashes. “Same as always.”

You admit to yourself that you love him like this. He seems free, happy even.

You decide to be bold and tap your shoulder for him to lay his head on.  

He doesn’t seem to be thinking twice as he takes your offer and nuzzles his head on your shoulder. He’s taller and bigger than you, you suppose the position he’s in right now is not comfortable for him. He reaches back around the couch and the other hand crosses his abdomen, gripping your ankle that he is closest to. His thumb draws circles there and your brain short circuits. “How was yours?”

“My day? Nothing exciting. All paperwork.”

He hums as he squeezes your ankle, his hair tickling your nose and lips.

“You really need a shower, Leon.” You make up the courage to smooth down his blonde hair that is sticking up in every direction.

He hums again. “Are you telling me I stink?”

“Yes, mister.”

“I’m tired,” he groans but doesn’t seem tired enough as he pushes his head and messes up your balance on the couch. You have to hold on to the arm rest as he keeps nudging you with his head.

“You’ll feel gross in the morning if you don’t have a shower.”

“You have a point,” he says but does nothing to get up. Maybe it was a bad idea to offer him your shoulder and unknowingly, your ankle. He’s never acted like a kid like this before.

You get up and turn off the TV before you offer him both of your hands. “You’re not tipsy, you’re drunk. Now get up and wash yourself please.”

“I’m not drunk.”

“Yes, you are. You headbutted me.”

He takes your hands and finally gets up. “I think I ran out of shampoo.”

“You can use mine. Brush your teeth while I go get it.” You pat his back.

There’s two bedrooms in the house, one is for guests but you’ve never had guests over since you’ve both moved into this apartment. Leon uses the “guest” room downstairs. He insisted that you take the bigger room. He’s more like a roommate than a spouse.

He’s shirtless in front of the sink, brushing his teeth like you told him to when you knock on his bathroom door and hand him your shampoo. He reads the fragrance and opens its cap to smell it.

“Well, you smell nice so I can’t complain,” he says, toothbrush still in his mouth, dribbling toothpaste everywhere.

You love him in moments like these. This is the moment the wife reaches and kisses the husband. Well, maybe after he’s done dribbling everywhere but you know how this moment should go about. He won’t be like this in the morning. You know very well that he is going to be sober and back to normal Leon. He won’t say anything about his drunk self because he knows you won’t as well.

“Don’t fall in the shower!” you shout as you go upstairs to your room.

“I’m not that drunk!”

The next morning, he sees you making coffee in the kitchen. It hasn’t been long since your schedule got aligned with his. He wonders how the hell you managed to adjust your sleeping hours to the point now you could wake up before him. He used to wake up before you because you often had late shifts.

“Morning,” he says as he smells the delicious coffee that you’re pouring into two mugs. He yawns, scratching an itch on his arm. He did not use to have a coffee machine back when he was living alone. You had brought it with you to this house and saved him from Starbucks’ morning rush hour.

You slide one of the mugs in front of him and give him a warm smile. “Good morning. How are you feeling?”

He blows on the coffee before he takes a sip. “Much better now.” He clears his throat, his morning voice gruff. “I was thinking… We should commute together.”

“To work?” Your eyebrows shoot up.

“Where else?” he snorts. “What’s surprising? Why pay more for gas when we start work at the same time?”

“Wouldn’t that be…”

“It wouldn’t interfere with anything if you think about it. It’s stupid to take both cars to the same place.”

“I might work overtime,” you say and hug yourself.

He nods into his mug and seems like he wants to say more. “Then you can take your car. You’ve just started normal hours. Why are you eager to tire yourself out so quickly?”

So that we don’t have to be awkward around each other.

“C’mon, it’ll be convenient.”

You hate that word. You hate that word with your whole being. Back then, it meant something entirely different when he said it. We can get to know each other, then we can get married. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. It’ll be convenient. Convenient is why you married him. Convenient is why you are here now.

It is what you repeat to yourself over and over again. It was convenient to have slept with him. It didn’t have to be a big deal. You were lonely. You reckon he had to be, too. Because why else would he want to have sex with you? He did not love you or anything. You could only think of one thing when his face was buried in your neck. You still had his yellow roses. You had preserved them between your book pages.

As he was panting above you, hands grasping your hips with vigor, your thighs caging him in and burning, you felt like a rose stuck between thousands of words never read aloud. Yellow all over, sticking out like a sore thumb between words printed in the smallest font size possible, suffocating. Once belonged with other flowers but now settled down in a place where people thought you’d look pretty.

You hate the color yellow as much as you hate the word convenient. If not, more.

He sees you wince. He cannot guess the reason behind it is his choice of words. “What do you say?”

He is offering, you think. He still likes you enough to ask.

“Okay.”

“Good, we need to get groceries on the way back.”   

People don’t whisper much now that it’s been nearly two years since you two announced to your close work circle that you were married. There were a lot of surprised faces at first, thinking maybe Leon was joking or something. People didn’t know you very well. You were only close with Cathy.

“Perhaps we should wear rings,” said Leon once over dinner. “People don’t believe we’re married.”

“Is that a problem? What others think, I mean?”

He stared at your face while chewing, you couldn’t make out what he was thinking thanks to the dim light emanating from one of the lamps. “They think it’s a joke. Is it so bad that I want to be taken seriously for once? You wanted a wedding dress, I want a ring.”

“When do you want to get them?”

That led to you choosing matching rings with Leon. Simple gold bands. You make sure to wear them to work every day because if you don’t, you worry people will start to whisper again.

First it was, Leon’s not the type to get married, he’s taking the piss out of us, is it April fools today?

Then it turned into: Oh God, he’s serious, he says he got married last weekend.

Eloped? To whom?

He said her name but I don’t remember it, said she’s in archives now.

He’s married to an archivist? How on earth did they meet?

Probably in Donovan’s funeral, saw Hunnigan introducing them.

That wasn’t long ago!

I know, right?

You know some of them thought you had a one-night stand and got pregnant from him. The rumors subsided when that didn’t turn out to be true.

However, people were curious about why Ingrid Hunnigan would introduce an archivist to an agent. It didn’t take long for your name to become known because you had recently switched departments. You had been a systems analyst like Hunnigan, working with late Cathy Donovan. You’d switched to archives after her funeral.

People greeted you when they saw you. Leon’s wife, right?

Yes, but not really.

The first time Leon ever saw you was during agent Donovan’s funeral. He’d gotten back from Spain just a week ago. He did not know agent Donovan well but her name echoed in every corner. She was good at her job. Most of the time, nobody had an idea what she was up to.

“Leon, I want you to meet Cathy’s partner,” said Hunnigan, holding the shoulder of the woman standing next to her.

You stuck your hand out for him to shake and told him your name. It sounded disconsolate coming from your mouth, your own name. Your eyes were dazed, you kept your mouth in a thin line. You didn’t even look at him properly as if this was the hundredth occurrence today, Hunnigan introducing you to someone.

“I’ve heard a lot of great things about agent Donovan.” He didn’t know what else to say.

“Right, she was great,” you said, your eyes straying elsewhere. It looked like Hunnigan’s hand on your shoulder was the only thing keeping you from crumbling down. You looked so small with your shoulders hunched forward. He cringed when he saw you rip out the flesh of the side of your thumb.

Hunnigan went on about Cathy Donovan’s accomplishments to him. You continued to pick at your thumb, him watching your side profile as you kept averting your gaze from people around you. You seemed to be dissociating hard.

“These two were inseparable. I tried asking Cathy to work with me on a small mission once and she praised her so much in turn, I had to suck it up and meet this woman myself as soon as possible,” said Hunnigan heatedly. “I’m such a big fan of Cathy’s, you see, I couldn’t be upset. I love seeing her work with the best.”

“Thanks, that means a lot coming from you,” you managed to say, a beat too late. “I need to use the restroom, be right back.”

Leon knew too well that losing someone was difficult, yet he couldn’t imagine what you were going through. He furrowed his brows the moment his hand made contact with your upper arm. Maybe he shouldn’t have done that, he didn’t want to seem like he took pity on you.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.”

You made the effort to look him in the eye when it was obvious as day that you were having a hard time keeping your head up.

Your voice barely came out, “Thank you.”

Of course, you did not recognize him the second time he saw you. It was his late celebratory dinner for his mission in Spain. His coworkers had planned a small one, saying he deserved it. Once he was done with his food, he excused himself saying he wanted to get fresh air.

Not too far from the restaurant, you were sitting on a bench alone.

“Those things will kill you, y’know,” he said, eyes pointing to the cigarette you were smoking.

His unexpected voice caused you to jump in your seat. You quickly put the cigarette out by stomping it with your shoe. “I don’t usually… smoke.”

He dragged his feet while walking to sit down on the opposite end of the bench. “You didn’t have to put it out.” Though he thought you were very considerate by doing so.

“Congratulations, for the mission.”

“Thank you— name’s Leon, by the way.”

You stuck your chin out to the direction of the restaurant, “Or so I heard in there.”

“We actually met before. At the funeral.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t remember half the people I met there.”  

“No need to be sorry. You seemed out of it.”

“Yeah, we worked together for a long time, Cathy and I.”

“Look, I know it’s hard and anything I say probably won’t make any difference—”

“You don’t need to—” Your voice quite literally got stuck on your throat, you composed yourself by bringing the side of your fist to your mouth and coughed into it. “I’m trying to get better. I’m here today, which is a miracle in of itself. I know people think it’s probably good to talk about her but I’m just not in the mood, okay? Thank you for your understanding but I don’t need to be reminded, it happened not so long ago.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“No, I know you mean well.” You started to sway your feet on the gravel. It was completely understandable for you to lash out but you seemed uneasy as soon as it was out of you. “Sorry, this is your happy day. I shouldn’t—”

“You realize how many times we said sorry to each other in this past minute?” he laughed. “Also, I lost a partner in Spain. I’m not that happy today.”

Your voice turning faint, seemingly regretting your flash of anger a moment ago, “You probably feel like you shouldn’t be happy.”

He nodded. “He helped me a lot but didn’t make it.” He saw your mouth open and stopped you there. “Don’t say you’re sorry. It loses its meaning when you say it too much.”

“Even if I mean it with my whole heart every time?”

“That means you’re sorry for a lot of things. It’s not healthy to carry that much weight on your shoulders.”

“Right, I’ll be like Quasimodo.” You hunched your shoulders even more forward. “Like the hunchback.”

“From the Disney movie?”

You giggled at his childishness. “Yeah, I heard there’s also a book about it.”

He looked at your squinted eyes and thought you deserved to be happy more.

As you two carried on your now meaningless conversation, he did not know that you were certain on resigning from your job and never turning back to it. You’d started to work on the archives that week, partly because your boss had foreseen you contemplating quitting all together and did not want to lose a highly valuable member such as yourself and partly because you had requested it.

At that point, you were absolutely aware of the fact that they feared you’d never turn back to your former position. And because Cathy didn’t have any plans of ever becoming alive, you also didn’t have any plans on returning. But you knew the reason behind them doing anything you asked was them giving you time to grieve. After that, the pressure would build even more and hopefully make you take your old place.

“It was Hunnigan’s idea,” you said to Leon after he asked you very kindly why you were here tonight. “Basically dragged me here. She thinks I should be around people more.”

“She’s right. I’m glad you came.”

Leon was cute, alright. That didn’t do him justice, actually. It was evident under the street light where the bench was that he worked out regularly. Biceps giving a hard time to his sleeves every time he moved, veins protruding on his forearms, his thighs looking like they’d help him carry ten people on his large back. And oh, his broader-than-the-horizon shoulders. An absolute unit of a man with cheekbones and jawline honed like a Greek statue. With his dark blonde hair falling on his face in that charming way and his oh so kind blue eyes, you knew he was out of your league.

His gentle aura making him seem like a Prince Charming or a white knight or whatever the fuck those Disney movies had.

You planned on never seeing anyone from work again, you had nothing to lose. And Cathy so would say to shoot your shot.

“I’m thinkin’ of getting a few drinks in me, want to tag along?”

“What do you have in mind?” He seemed interested, a good sign.

“You got any suggestions? And don’t say beer because I plan on getting wasted beyond recognition in like an hour.”

“Yeah, be careful. And don’t drink and drive.” The way he took a U-turn on his interest irritated you. You really thought he wouldn’t say no, you were getting along well, flirting even. “Did you come here with your car?”

“Yeah.” You tried to not sound upset. “I’m not a teenager. I’ll take a cab. Drinks will be on me.”

“Ah, thanks but I’ll have to refuse. They’ll probably wonder where I went. It’s my dinner, after all.” The polite smile he gave you was so infuriating.

You got up from the bench. He had the audacity to look you up and down after that. “Then please tell Hunnigan I’m sorry I left early, will you?”

“I will.” He fidgeted and crossed his arms. Oh God, you’d made him uncomfortable. It was just minutes ago he was sort of flirting with you. “Don’t drink too much.”

God, why did he have to be so annoying?

The next time you two met was at the closest pharmacist to work, few weeks after his dinner and your failed attempt to get him in your bed.  

“One box of aspirin, please.” Your head snapped up at that voice. Unmistakably, Leon. With his broad back facing you, he hadn’t seen you yet.

“What can I get you, miss?”

Leon stepped over to the side when they called to you, still not looking at you.

“Eyedrops, please.”

“Miss, are you alright?”

To that, he did a double-take. You’d looked disheveled to the point of worry. Eyes and nose a few shades redder than the rest of your face, eyebags puffy and makeup smudged. With your now extremely frizzy baby hairs doing anything but their job of framing your face, it was apparent that you’d been crying.

“Yes, it’s just an allergy.”

“Can I get you anything for that?”

“No, thank you. I already have meds for it.”

Leon thanked when they gave him his aspirin and turned to you. “Wait here, don’t go anywhere.” He quickly left the pharmacist.

Surprisingly, you did wait for him outside. Why? You had no idea. Frankly, you were hoping to cry more in your car.

Approximately five minutes later, he came to you jogging lightly. He thrusted a water bottle in your hand. “Where’s your medication?”

“What?”

“For your allergy?”

“Oh, um—” You couldn’t find a lie fast enough, usually you were not bad at lying but the way he appeared to be worrying about your well-being was baffling to say the least. “I don’t have it, I mean—” You pressed the water bottle to your stomach and held on to it for comfort. “I don’t have an allergy.”

It was his turn to be baffled. “Are you alright?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“You don’t look like it.” He looked at you and around you as though checking to see any injury. “You should drink up.” He motioned to the bottle and watched you take a gulp.

“Thank you. Oh, you should, too,” You tried to give him the rest of the water while his stare questioned you. “For your aspirin.”

“I already took it. I’m supposed to take it with water?”

“Yes, Leon. Have you been taking them without water this whole time? Then why did you bring me water?”

“I didn’t know that! You looked dehydrated.”

“That’s not good for you. Now I’m worried about your stomach.”

His blue eyes shined like he came to a revelation. “That’s why my stomach burns when I take them?”

How are you this stupid, you suppressed saying, if you had known him well enough at that time, you definitely would. You forgot for a second that you were annoyed at him for rejecting you few weeks ago and find yourself flabbergasted at thinking that he is endearing, in a way.

You made small talk with him about his lunch break and he insisted on walking you to your car.

“Can I help you with anything?” he said sympathetically once you stood in front of your open car door. “You still look…”

Like a truck hit me, you wanted to complete his sentence.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine. It just happens time to time.” You tried to make yourself presentable by adjusting your blouse and hair.

“It?”

“Sometimes I cry for no reason. It happens randomly, too, I don’t know when and where I’ll be crying most of the time. Like, I’ll be reading something, it doesn’t have to be sad, I mean— I was reading reports before I came here. Sometimes it gets too much, like now.”

“Will you be okay driving?”

“Yeah! Talking with you definitely helped.” His apprehensive gaze pierced through you. You actually felt like crying again, your chest feeling tight, eyes burning. You stood upright with the support of your car door. “I’ll be fine, Leon.”

“I’m choosing to believe you. Drive safe.” He shifted his weight on one of his legs and seemed ready to take off.

“Thank you. See you around?”

“You probably won’t for a while,” he said to the ground, soothing the itch on his calf with his other leg’s shin. He looked up and squinted his eyes against the sun. “I got assigned a mission. I don’t know for how long.”

“Oh, I’ll be at your celebratory dinner then, if I get an invitation.”

“Well, I don’t know how it will go. I’ll only invite you if you won’t talk for the whole dinner but flirt with me outside again.”

“You didn’t need to embarrass me like that,” you chuckled nervously. “I wouldn’t say I’m a push and pull kind of woman.”

“You can show me what kind of woman you are when I get back?”

“Very smooth, Leon.”

He seemed taken aback. “I’ll see you then.” Suddenly, he was distant again. This time you didn’t know what made him uneasy.

“Yeah… Be safe on your mission.”

He just nodded. You got in your car and gripped the steering wheel tightly until the sight of his leather jacket clad back disappeared. You hunched forward, shoved your forehead to the wheel and tried to take a deep breath. The crying spell didn’t go away as the tears burst down first and then the sobs jerked your entire body.

I will not ask you where you came from I will not ask you, neither should you

Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips We should just kiss like real people do

—Like Real People Do, Hozier

The inside of Leon’s car smells nice, he takes good care of it.

“I’m going to see my sister this weekend,” you say, averting your gaze from the way he steers the wheel with one hand. His other hand is on his knee, tapping away. The effect his toned arms have on you is humiliating.

“I think I can make it.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t have anything that day. I can go with you. It’s your mother’s death anniversary, right? I think it’s time I pay my respects.”

It’s these things he says that leave you puzzled. He’s incredibly thoughtful, no matter who he’s talking to. He very well could have his day off-work for himself, but he asks anyway.

“Do you actually want to meet my sister?”

“I do. I hope to make a good first impression.”

You think about it for a second and end up telling him. “I sent a picture of you to her back when we got married.”

“How’d you get a picture of me?” he asks, appalled. The only picture he has of himself besides the wedding one is on his badge.

“Our wedding picture, dummy. We have one, remember?”

“Oh, right, I forgot.” You can’t complain because you keep it in a dresser drawer in the envelope it came in. He was on duty again when it came and you’d showed it to him once he was home. The left corner of his lips had curled up and for a second, you thought you saw affection in his eyes. “It came out okay? I was sweating buckets, but you—" he’d said and pointed a finger to your face in the photo. “Your hands were ice cold, I nearly asked you to paste your hands to my forehead just so I could cool down.”

“We still have the picture, right?” he asks.

“Yes, it’s in my room. Why?”

“Can I have it?”

“Yeah, they sent two. Can I ask what you’re going to do with it?”

“Give it to the mafia or hire a hitman to go after you, what else?” He lets out a hollow laugh. You want to record the sound and have it forever play in your ears. “I want to frame it and put it on my desk. People usually have pictures of their spouses and children or even their dogs on their desks, no?”

Yes, you know. You have pictures with your best friend and sister on your own desk at work.

It’s his way of saying you mean something to him.

You call your sister’s name as soon as you see it. “Why do you have this picture here?”

She’s carrying the empty plates to the sink as you hold on to her fridge’s door handle.

She looks up to see you pointing at your wedding picture. It’s on her fridge. You don’t even display it in your own house.

“You printed it?”

“I did,” she says. “It’s a good picture.” Her house is littered with pictures of her and her husband on different vacations, of you and your mother and her together in some.

“You just met Leon today.”

“And I think he’s great. You’re happy with him. That’s all I could ask for.”

You were happy since he was in a good mood the entire ride coming here. It was long but you two had a smooth ride and he amused you with his corny jokes and stories. You tore small pieces of bagel and fed him when he said he was getting hungry. He was tired from driving the whole time, but of course he didn’t have it any other way and jestingly banned you from getting behind the wheel. He did make a good first impression like he promised, although he kept bobbing his cramped leg. He’s now in the backyard with your brother-in-law, chatting about football, probably.

Your sister gets your attention by giving you a side hug and rubbing your back. “You’re my only sister, of course I’m going to have a picture of your happiest day.”

You hug her back around her waist. She even had photos of your birth in the living room. Your mom in a hospital bed, one day-old baby you cradled in her arms, your father hugging your mother and looking down at you with adoration in his eyes. Did he know then, that he would never be there for you to look at you like that again?

“You remember dad, right?” you ask quietly. She was older and was able to tell stories about him to you. “How was he like? Before he left, I mean.”

“Like I told you, he loved us so much. I don’t know if it was the same case for my mom. She later told me she saw it coming, that he likely had another woman.”

“How did mom know?”

Your sister sighs and rest her head on top of yours. “She said she could just feel it. Said he felt distant. He used to come home late leading up to it, sometimes drunk. One day I woke up and he wasn’t home. Didn’t say anything, just abandoned us like that.”

There’s that sadness again, creeping up to your chest and placing a big rock there. You feel like you’re being crushed by it. Your mom had always been ambitious, had dreams for herself and her family, deserved so much more than what she got.

Leon’s laughing loudly in the backyard, your head whips to see the sight.

“Come on, go mingle with your husband. I got it from here,” says your sister and starts to place the dishes in the dishwasher.

“I’ll go get us some beer,” says your brother-in-law and gets up from his chair. The weather is amazing today, your sister had set up a nice meal outside. Leon was getting along with them well. What more could you ask for?

You find yourself alone with Leon when your brother-in-law goes inside the house. You sit next to him and he promptly puts his arm on the back of your chair.

“How’s your leg?” you ask him.

“My thighs are sore,” he groans. “Good thing we’re not driving back tonight.”

“Well, I wouldn’t let you anyways.” You put a hand on his knee and start to massage, hoping it will help his aching legs. You’re even bolder than a few days ago. He doesn’t seem to mind it.

“It hurts here,” he says and grabs your hand, placing it higher on his thigh. “You can put more pressure, I can hardly feel it.” His thigh is firm and thank God, your hands manage to stay stable. You ball your hands into fists and start to punch lightly where he wants. The meat of his thighs doesn’t even jiggle, reminding you that he’s mostly made of muscle.

You focus up on his knees. “I’ll drive us to the cemetery tomorrow.”

“I can—”

“No. You’re tired, Leon. I want to drive, don’t make me upset.”  

“Would you actually be upset if I—”

“Yes, very.” You pinch his thigh and that makes him press his lips together.

“They’re really nice, you know,” he means your sister and her husband. “I feel like an ass for not meeting them sooner.”

“You like them?” You raise an eyebrow.  

“I do.”

“So, any propositions?”

“Huh?”

“Got asked for a threesome yet?” you smirk.

“I’m sorry?” He’s horrified and you find it funny.

“After I sent the wedding picture to them, they both said you were hot. I just remembered it.”

“I’d rather not know that!”

“Relax, Kennedy. I’m just joking. They’re not gonna ask you that.”

He visibly relaxes and puts you in a headlock in a play-fight manner with the arm that was behind you. His nose and mouth pressed up against your hair, he says, “I’ll just tell them I’m a one-lady type of man if they ever do.” You consider biting his arm.

“Can the lovebirds look up here for a second?” chirps your sister. She has come with her camera outside. “It’s the golden hour.”

Leon adjusts his head to look towards the camera and relaxes his hold on you, arm dangling from your shoulder, other hand engulfs yours on his knee, rings clashing.  

“Aww,” your sister coos as she takes the photo. “I’ll send this to you.”

She doesn’t suspect a thing, probably because you’re not pretending anymore.

You splash your face with cold water after you’re done brushing your teeth in your sister’s guest room bathroom. Leon’s inside the room, splayed out on the bed, exhausted after today. It won’t be awkward, you say to yourself, hope to God your hands don’t start to tremble from anxiety.

Leon has taken off his t-shirt, bent one of his knees and put his hands behind his head. Not helping your case by looking irresistible. Even the tufts of hair under his arms are endearing to you.

“How are you holding up?” he asks once you sit on the bed next to him, back facing him. He knows you will visit Cathy too when you get back.

“I’m good, Leon.” You take off your ring and place it next to his on the bedside drawer. “Never been better, actually. I missed them.” You twist your upper body to face him. “Here,” you say as you place your newly washed cold damp hands on both sides of his face in attempts to cool him down.

He shivers, his shoulders going up slightly for a quick second. “That’s nice,” he murmurs, closing his eyes. You’re silent, in part because you’re speechless before his beauty, but you also would like to try to give him a little piece of serenity he needs.

“This used to be my mom’s room when she was living here.”

He hums softly and opens his eyes, his hands coming up to hold on to your bare arms, the skin between his eyebrows pinched.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, hands finding place on his broad shoulders.

He starts to rub your arms up and down, his hands stopping after a while to trace a strap of your tank top with his fingers. All of your worries about intimate gestures going out the window the moment you let his hands wander.

This is the tender domesticity that you’ve been longing for so badly, you want to thank him.

He scrunches his nose. “I wanted to kiss you, now I think it’ll be inappropriate.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. Your grip on his shoulders is now stronger, begging not to tremble. He feels lonely, he shouldn’t have come here. You have to swallow hard. “It won’t.”

His hand goes up to cup the back of your neck, he’s staring at your lips like he doesn’t wish for anything else. “C’mere.” He tugs at your hip to get the lower half of your body up on the bed. He drapes you halfway on his torso.

Once you’re situated to his liking and casting a shadow on his face, he brings you down ever so gently to his mouth, massaging your nape. He’s hot all over, his mouth, his breath on your face, his chest, the hand that’s splaying his fingers on the small of your back. With his soft lips moving lazily against yours, you’re quite literally bursting at the seams. The muffled sigh he drags across your mouth tempts you to press your entire body to his harder and sling your leg across his hips.

His kisses turn into open-mouthed ones and he tastes like minty toothpaste and sunlight on golden hour.

A small noise comes out of your throat, hands straying down to his bare chest and he has to cradle your face to stop. “We should sleep.” His Adam’s apple bobs enticingly. “I seriously don’t want to disrespect your mother’s ghost.”

A laugh escapes your lips as he hugs your head and buries it to his chest, his chin resting on top. “You’ll apologize to her tomorrow.”

It’s okay, you think when you feel the low timbre of his chuckle on his chest. We’re okay. We’re doing better.

There's no plan, there's no race to be run The harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun There's no plan, there's no kingdom to come I'll be your man if you got love to get done Sit in and watch the sunlight fade Honey, enjoy, it's gettin' late There's no plan, there's no hand on the rein

—No Plan, Hozier

The fourth time you saw Leon Kennedy was at a bar. You thought his coworkers were going to be there to see him after his mission but it was just you two.

He had emailed you a day before, saying he asked for your email address from Hunnigan, inviting you for drinks the next day and apologizing for letting you know this late.

“Where’s everyone? Am I early?” you asked, despite noticing the table he was sitting at was for two people.

He looked up and you were taken aback by the sight of him. He looked tired. He had a bit of a stubble and his hair was tousled. “No, you’re right on time,” he said, getting up to pull your chair for you. “It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise,” you said, ridding yourself from your jacket. You actually put in the effort to look good that day. A nice outfit, a little bit more makeup, hair done.

As you sat down in front of him, a corner of his lips went up, “You look good.”

“The last time we spoke wasn’t my best moment.”

“How have you been?”

You placed your hands on the table and started to play with your fingers, anxious. “Since then? Better, I suppose. How about you? Your mission went well?”

“Depends on how you define well.”

“You’re still in one piece.”

“If only that was enough.” You didn’t get to see his disappointed expression for long when a server came up to your table and Leon quickly ordered a drink, asked what you wanted and waited with his hands together on the table.

Once the server was away, you slightly leaned towards him. “They should be grateful that they got their best agent back alright.” Although you couldn’t ask him any details about his mission, you knew he was a special agent that was good at this job.

“Hunnigan told me you’re in the archives.”

“Yeah, that happened months ago, before your dinner.”

“Why the change of heart?”

“I—uh…” Your throat felt dry under his piercing stare. “I wasn’t needed there anymore. So I transferred.”

“Really? I heard it’s quite the opposite.”

“Oh, they’re talking about me?”

“Yes, seems like they really want you to work with agents again.”

“I know that,” you said and dug your fingernails to the corner of the table, his eyes following the motion.

“What do you mean?” he said, scratching his jaw. “You said you weren’t needed.”

“I felt like I wasn’t being useful. I tried to quit. They tried really hard to keep me there. Now, they’re constantly asking me to come back after everything.”

“They do know how to squeeze the last bit out of everyone,” he nodded. “Are you happy with where you are right now?”

“As in life?” You rolled your eyes thinking about it. “What does it look like?”

“I was worried the last time I saw you.” He sounded sincere.

“I know, I looked miserable.” Probably looked like the physical embodiment of a cry for help, too. “Can we not dwell on it, please? I’m better now. But now you—” You reach and tap on the middle of the table. “You look like you need to sleep for days.”

“That would be great,” he sighed.

You kept looking at the door but no one from work was coming in. “Why is no one coming, Leon?”

“They won’t, to be honest with you. I only invited you.”

Your back was then one with the chair. “Oh.”

“I should’ve let you know, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I don’t mind the quiet,” you smiled. And then you realized, he was doing the same thing you were doing, pushing anyone and anything away.

Him reaching out to you, this was his cry for help. Why you specifically, you didn’t know.

“You told me you lost a partner in Spain, were you close?”

To that, he dropped his chin and stared at his lap. “No, I wouldn’t say that. I didn’t know him. We met under strange circumstances and ended up helping each other. I got the impression that he regretted a lot of things but wanted to believe people could change.”

“I believe people can change, for the better or worse,” you mumbled.

Your server came with your drinks. Leon didn’t waste a second and downed nearly half of his drink. “You tried to quit?” he asked.

“I did. I thought it was time for a little stability in my life. This is as far as I can get to it,” you said and took a sip of your drink which was the same one as Leon. It was strong.

“Stability. That’s unlikely in this job,” he scoffed, fingers tapping at his glass.

“Do you see it as impossible, Leon?” You desperately hoped he would say no, you needed to hear from someone that it wasn’t just a pipe dream.  

He seemed to be thinking for a slow moment. “I guess, for some people, it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

“For you it would?” you inquired.

“I once thought I would marry my first girlfriend. I was like what? Twenty, twenty-one? I was really stupid and in love. If twenty-one-year-old Leon saw this, he would be devastated,” he said and raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t think I can find someone who would understand what I do. It’s not like I can tell them. They’d be in danger because of me. I can’t ask them to trust me blindly. I wouldn’t want them to.”

“If someone was willing to accept you as you are, do you think..?”

“Who in their right mind would?” he groaned in exasperation.

“I would. But my situation is different, I have an understanding of what you do. I also can’t be in any more danger than I already am.” There was a beat of silence after you said that. The drink was definitely too much for you, you were sure. Your ears were burning hot, one hand coming up to cool one down with your nervous cold fingers, your eyes roamed the whole place. You chugged the remaining of your drink and wiped your mouth.

“Whoa, slow down there,” he bolted and looked at your abashed face as if he was in a contemporary art museum, trying to understand what the artist meant with their absurd piece.

Feeling self-conscious, you fixed your hair and babbled out, “Why did you get into this line of work in the first place?”

His back straightened, shoulders rolling back. “I was… recruited.” You didn’t quite understand how but remained from prodding any further. “I was the best candidate for what they wanted. An orphan who didn’t have anything to lose.”

It really wasn’t going well for you. You wanted to bang your head against the table and avoid looking at him completely but after what he had revealed to you, you couldn’t be any ruder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

If Cathy were to hear about this, you wouldn’t hear the end of it. Good job honey, that’s one way to woo a man. She would’ve said it in that sarcastic tone which she infamously was a master of.

“No, it’s fine,” said Leon. “You could do so much better than me, though.”

Have you seen yourself, you wanted to exclaim.

Your nostrils were wide, trying to sober you up by hogging as much oxygen as possible, you tried to remain calm, you were feral however. “Why do you keep putting yourself down, Leon? You know, you could’ve called your friends today and they would’ve come running to you. You’re a great person, they don’t give a damn about how successful your mission was. They’re happy that you’re back, that’s all. They are your friends, not the alcohol.”  

He was dead silent, staring at his glass with an expression you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“I’m sorry for overstepping but I saw how they were trying to look out for you at the dinner. There wasn’t even a glass of wine there, celebration my ass. Everybody can tell you’re not fine. I don’t know you that well but even I can tell. What you’re doing to yourself isn’t healthy. It’s self-destructive.”

He wiped his forehead. “You’re the one to talk.”

“Excuse me?”

“Hunnigan’s always talking about how you’re running away every time you see her. She has to drag you everywhere. She’s being nice to you, you could try appreciating that, you know? And you’re clearly stuck up on something, are you trying to repent for your sins or what?” He quite literally disarmed you with his icy stare.

“I’m not Catholic,” you retorted.

“Well, would you look at that. We’re more similar than I thought.” The smirk he had on was sardonic, the furthest from being friendly. You felt an urge to get up and never look back.

“Wrong,” you said as you crossed your arms. “I don’t expect alcohol to solve my problems.”

“Yeah, you’d rather run away from them. And that isn’t going well for you, is it?” He finished his drink and motioned for the server for another. “Also, stop being a hypocrite.”

“Excuse you?” you said with seething anger.

“Are you not trying to ‘get wasted beyond recognition’ right now, as you put it?” he sneered and pointed out your empty glass.

“That was one time, I usually don’t drink. And I’m not planning on drinking more.”

“Oh, did I ruin your fun?”

“Stop that,” you said through your gritted teeth. “Stop being mean. I’m not your friend. You don’t have to push me away. I don’t know why you invited me here. I can just get up and go, leave you with whatever you have up your ass that’s making you act like this. I’m only asking you to stop putting yourself down so much and you’re being all defensive. You know what, I don’t deserve this.” You got up from your chair, grabbing your jacket and purse.

He stood up quickly and tried to follow you. “Sit down, Leon. Your drink is coming.” You didn’t give him any chance to reply and threw the amount of cash that covered your single glass of alcohol on the table.

The walk from the noiseless bar to the nearest bus stop was not pleasant, to say the least. The air was biting cold, hitting your warm cheeks and making you shiver.

Leon only lost sight of you because he stopped to tip the server generously. He fucked up big time, he knew that. It was going to be a pain in the ass if you already jumped in a cab but he had hope that no vacant cab was passing the area on a Friday night.

He was stupid to think this would go smoothly. The last time he saw you, he was concerned about you. The way you’d casually admitted you were not fine was echoing in his mind. He wanted to see if you’d be there by the time he was back from duty. He admitted he was scared for you, for that woman who seemed so small during the funeral, for that woman who had a meltdown in her car in the middle of the day, barely hanging on.

He wanted to tell you today that maybe you should quit. But you had already crossed that bridge.

Maybe you wanted to help people, too. At least at the beginning. Now you wanted peace and quiet, because your life has been anything but. Unlike you, he gave up on that a while ago. He wanted to regard your daring words— I would— as being drunk, he really did.

Ada would never admit she’d want something like that to him, to anyone. Ada didn’t want a stable life, she would never live at a place longer than a month, work with someone more than twice. Even after all of their encounters, Leon still didn’t know what her actual motives were. Raccoon City, Spain, his last mission.

It was pitiful, the way his breath would hitch every time he saw a dark-haired woman wearing red out of the corner of his eye. His heart would pound in his ears for a quick second before he’d realize he was mistaken. He would allow himself, for a brief moment, that maybe it was Ada, here to see him. However, she was never the one to be sentimental. Her every action had a tangible intention that Leon could never guess.

But Leon knew she cared. Enough to save him every goddamn time he needed saving. Enough to ask him to come with her. If he was twenty-one, he would’ve chosen to tail behind her, ready to follow her wherever. Except he had changed, he was not naive anymore. He’d like to think he made the right choice by separating their ways back in Spain. He didn’t know if he was going to be used again.

He also didn’t know what would become of them. Needless to say, he wasn’t going to abandon the mission and ride off into the sunset with Ada yet a part of him wondered about their alternate universe in which he chose to follow her. What would have happened if he just hopped onto that helicopter with her? Where would she have taken him? Was she planning on greeting him properly after all those years? Was he ready to forgive her after Raccoon City?

Perhaps she would have dropped him off somewhere, with a phone number or an address, leaving him confused yet again. Maybe he would’ve reached out, met her in a different circumstance where they didn’t have to constantly run away from trouble. Maybe she’d be living in a small flat and then she’d ask him to come over. Maybe he’d continue to visit her, make himself familiar with her small space.

Except that was not feasible at all, since she was a fleeting kind of woman, just like all the moments they shared. Not there to stay. And none of these would happen, it would always be a different hotel room, different city, barring him from being constant in her life.

A puppy love, he used to think. Young, naive, credulous love. No, he realized, it got older and bigger, sicker. It was time to put it down, put it out of its misery.

He sprinted to the bus station, his hunch was right, you were sitting there, arms folded on your chest, alone. You looked up the moment you heard his footsteps. He left a few steps between you two and braced himself by putting his palms on his knees.

“Why did you come here?” he asked, his eyes were focused on your red nose. Probably from the cold, he convinced himself.

“What do you mean? You asked me to,” you grimaced.

“You said we’re not friends, so why did you come here?”

Your head turned opposite of Leon, resting your chin on your shoulder and hugging yourself tighter. “I wanted some company,” you grumbled, the collar of your jacket muffling your voice. “I think Hunnigan’s right and I might need it.”

“Sorry I’m not a decent one.” He took slow steps to sit next to you on the narrow bench of the bus stop, his shoulder grazing yours. That made you perk up at him.

“I’m sorry for the things I said earlier,” you said, holding his gaze.

“You said a lot of things.”

“Well, I’m sorry for all of them, I crossed a line.”

“Don’t be, I needed the scolding.”

“I didn’t mean to scold you.”

He knocked his knee to yours. “Do you always regret the things you say immediately after? I was an asshole, you got angry, rightfully so.”

“But I was the one who started it,” you pursed your lips.

“Doesn’t matter, we’re not kids.”

“I, uh, called a taxi, should be here in a few minutes,” you said after a minute of silence.

“Okay, tell me something in the meantime.”

“What do you want to hear?”

His thumb caressed his brow, he was contemplating. “Would you consider marrying me?”

“What?”

“Would you marry me? If I asked?”

“No, I heard you the first time.” Your eyes took in every inch of his face, searching for a sign, anything that might explain this. “Leon, are you drunk?” 

“No, I’m nowhere near drunk. It takes more than one drink for me to get buzzed.” He crossed his arms, imitating you. “Think about it, we can both try to live calm and stable.”

Your face was contorted in confusion, still for a slight pause. “People don’t marry out of spite, Leon. They marry out of love.”

“Who said anything about spite?”

“You’re clearly angry at something or someone.”

“I am not.”

“This life you are living right now… isn’t quite what you planned, is it? Some things didn’t go according to plan and now you’re here, trying to steer the reins again. And you’re angry.”

“What are you, my therapist?” This time his comeback didn’t sound as if it was meant to hurt you, but to make the air between you lighter. “I guess I do resent some things, doctor.”  

You went along with his enactment. “Admitting is a huge step Leon, I appreciate the honesty.”

“Now you be honest,” he said, bouncing his leg in impatience. “Are you in a relationship? Am I being creepy by cornering you like this?”

“I’m not and I don’t feel cornered. If I did, I’d just get up and go. You just saw.”

He nodded, his lips in a thin line. “Experienced firsthand how you run away from your problems and I don’t mean it figuratively.”

You chuckled. “You are not a problem in my life.”

“Not a friend either.”

Your smile dropped. “I don’t think we know each other that well.”

He hummed, looking far away. “That’s probably your cab.” He got up, shaking off dust from his jeans. “Take my number before you get in and let me know when you make it home safe.”

You gave him your number but didn’t get to write your name in his contacts as the cab drew near. “Thanks for keeping me company, you didn’t need to run after me,” you said as you handed him his phone.

“We won’t dwell on it,” he winked as he opened the back door of the cab for you. “And think it over, okay?”

“What?”

“My proposal. We can get to know each other, then we can get married. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. It’ll be convenient.”

“Tell me one good thing that will be convenient.”

“Uh, okay. Here’s two for you,” he said and held up two fingers. “A better healthcare plan and tax benefits.”

You laughed and the driver seemed annoyed that you were still standing in front of the open door. “I should get going.”

“Text me when you get home,” he said when you finally got in the car.

You texted him again two weeks after his ridiculous proposal.

Hi, Leon. Do you remember what you asked me after the bar two weeks ago?

Hi. Yes I remember.

Were you being serious or should I pass it as tipsy nonsense?

There was no response from him for a few minutes and you had started biting your nails nervously.

I was being serious. I wasn’t tipsy.

You stared at his short text longer than it took him to reply. You had already made up your mind but it felt cheap telling him over a text. This was not the proper way of doing this. You also didn’t know how to convey this to him, so you resorted to a playful text.

Ask me properly and I’ll consider it.

I’ll ask you again properly over dinner next Friday? I know a good Italian place.

The next Friday, he kept his promise and said those four words in a fancy quiet Italian restaurant. You said yes.

“I have a request,” you said, swirling your wine before taking a sip. “I want a wedding dress, not like a gown or anything. Just a simple white dress.”

“Sure, I already have a suit that I can wear.”

Your heart tugged in your chest. The fact that you had to buy your wedding dress by yourself, no matter how simple you envisioned it to be, without Cathy by your side was making your ears ring, drowning out all the knife and fork clatter around you.

Here's my hand There's the itch But I'm not supposed to scratch

—Love Me More, Mitski

It’s four a.m. and you want to say you’ve actually seen it coming. Every time something good happens, its catastrophe follows eventually. Just like how Cathy’s mission was going so well until it wasn’t.

It’s four a.m. and the meal you’ve prepared for Leon has gone cold on the dining table. You thought he’d be hungry when he came back from mission, so you went out and bought ingredients, followed a recipe word for word, even made soup additionally just in case he didn’t feel like eating solid food after what his body’s been through. He said he’d be back at one a.m. and he hasn’t contacted you since. You’ve called and texted him numerous times but it was radio silence from him.

He had promised you, before you got married, that he would always let you know when he got back from a mission and he always did. He never once forgot because you were very serious about this, wanted to know as soon as possible that he was back safe.

It’s four a.m. and you feel like you’re going crazy, soaring into a heaving fit as each minute passes by.

The sound of his keys makes you clutch at your chest and before you even realize, your legs are walking you to the front door. He’s being quiet and you wait for him few steps behind the door. His steps are feather light, head bowed down to take off his shoes, he exhales a long breath as he places his backpack down.

He flinches when he sees your silhouette in the dark. “God, you scared me. I thought you’d be sleeping.”

“You didn’t text me,” your voice breaks, your hands are clutching at the sides of your pajama shirt like it’s a lifeline.

“I forgot.”

Your tears threaten to fall down and you’re grateful that it’s dark and he can’t see. You bite down your lip strong enough to make it bleed. “I was worried.”

“I’m fine, you didn’t need to stay up.”

It’s not like you chose to, you physically couldn’t lie down or eat anything when your mind went all haywire, creating the worst possible scenarios it could think of.

“I, um, made dinner.” You point to the table. “But it’s gone cold, I can heat it up. Don’t know if it will taste any good, though. Did you have any chance to eat something? I mean, if you ate dinner, it’s been hours and you’re probably hungry—”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I also made soup, so it’s easier on the stomach. You’re tired, right? Just eat some soup and then go to sleep. I’ll heat that up and there’s also tea in the pantry, supposed to help you sleep. Oh, I filled up the bathtub, I’ll go drain it, the water’s gone cold and you probably want to have a hot shower—”

He cuts you off again by blurting out your name. “Hey, hey, slow down.” His calloused hands come up to hold your shoulders and you let out a small whimper of surprise, your chin dropping to your chest. “I don’t want anything, I’ll just sleep.”

You shrug and escape from his hold, so he doesn’t ask you why you’re trembling like a leaf. “But shower…” you manage to make out and point to the direction of his room.

“Yes, I’ll drain the tub and shower, you go to sleep, okay?”

“Okay,” you say softly. He’s home, you repeat deliriously. He’s here, very much alive. The thought calms your nerves instantly.

He doesn’t turn on any of the lights while navigating his home in the dark. You crane your neck to watch his silhouette move to his room. He opts to turn on the bathroom light first. You listen to the water droplets as you put away the food you made for him in containers. He says something you can’t quite hear when he gets out of the shower.

“Did you say something, Leon?” you raise your voice slightly.

“Yeah, did you clean my room?”

“It was messy. Thought it’d be nice to see it tidy when you came back.”

He doesn’t reply right away and your head turns to his direction as if he can see you through the door.

“Thank you. You didn’t need to.”

You actually cleaned the whole house when he was away, not that he had the chance to see it.

You were aware from the very beginning that this was what you got yourself into. You and Leon never promised each other love. But why are you feeling like this now? Stupid question, really. Because things have changed, you’ve grown to love him and you’re afraid. You’re afraid that one day you’ll have to face the world without him by your side because he has become your anchor, holding you in place where you now call home. It’s nice having his warm hands on you, it’s nice coming home to him.

However, in moments like now it feels like you’re playing house, actors going their separate ways after the lights go out. It awfully feels like you’re standing in the middle of a dark stage, curtains closed so nobody can see what goes down behind the scenes.

You’re in front of his door, first aid kit in one hand, knocking. “Leon?” You know he’s not sleeping. He can’t sleep well after he comes back from his missions, his insomnia making it impossible for him.

The door cracks open and you slide past him before he can say anything, perching cross-legged on the side of his bed, placing the kit on your lap before propping his pillow against the bedpost so he can sit comfortably in front of you. “Let me have a look.” You pat on the bed. “And turn on the lamp, please.”

You can finally see him when he does. The first thing you see is the big purple bruise on his side because he’s only wearing his sweatpants. His hair is wet from the shower, hanging to his eyes, eyebags dark and prominent, one of his forearms is freshly bandaged. Despite all, he’s standing tall in front of you.

“They already patched me up,” he says, showing his bandage.

You take his hand and draw him near, making him sit on the bed with one leg dangling from the side. Half of his face is illuminated like this and you can see the cut on his jaw in its full glory. Your fingers begin to work quickly, cleaning the wound all the while he winces by closing his eyes. “Seems like they didn’t take a good look at you. What happened to your ribs?” you ask to distract him.

“Got kicked. They’re not broken.”

You put the band-aid on his jaw and search his eyes as they open. He blinks slowly at you, understanding that you want to hear more. “Hurts when I breathe but it should be gone in a few days, it’s not that bad.”

You take his unwrapped hand in yours, the skin of his knuckles is very red, it probably hurts when he flexes it. You grab the ice pack you remembered to bring with you and place it on top on his knuckles.

“Not there,” he mumbles. “Put in on my shoulder, it’s really sore.”

You place the pack on the shoulder he points. He tries to turn his head that way but his face contorts in pain and he gives up, exhaling a long sigh.

“Did you have them wrap it up?”

“No, can’t be bothered to rewrap it later.”

“That’s why you have me to do it for you,” you hum, adjusting the ice pack. You’re closer to him like this, able to smell his soap and shampoo from his body. You can make out the shape of his chapped lips and yours ache to kiss his pain away, except you are overheated with grievance.

His eyes bore into you, taking you in. There’s an unassuming hand on your bent knee, squeezing lightly. “Did I scare you?” he asks.

“You promised me,” you gripe to him, fumbling with your fingers on your lap after you place the first aid kit next to you. “You promised me that you’d let me know when you were back. Of course I was scared.”

His forehead falls onto your shoulder, damp strands of hair pressed to the side of your neck as the ice pack tumbles down his back onto the bed. “I’m sorry, honey,” he says breathily.

He’s only called you by your name all this time, so this is new. And stomach lurching. Your cheek knocks the side of his head with your startled reaction.

“I have no excuse,” he murmurs. His palm on your knee slides up, leaving a burning sensation as it goes along your thigh, bypassing your hips and finding place on the curve of your waist.

“It’s okay,” you squeak when you feel his thumb caressing your ribs through your t-shirt.

You don’t remember ever sitting down with him, drawing lines about the nature of your relationship, lines that both of you never meant to cross, because you didn’t. You didn’t discuss anything about boundaries because at the time you were getting married, you didn’t know him much. Both of you assumed that it would naturally develop, silent agreements to come.

It was manageable before, now it confuses you to the point of ripping hair from your own head. There were times where you didn’t think twice about giving him a friendly hug, a pat on the back, a reassuring squeeze to his knee but after getting into bed with him, every action was testing the waters.

It wasn’t even a bed; it was the couch in the living room where you had countless dinners and conversations, the heart of the home, if you will. It felt shameful afterwards as if it happened in an open space, because it was quick and devoid of any intimacy, but it was in the confines of your own quiet home still.

You want to go back to the time when you were friends, and not what this was supposed to be. You want to go back to the time when you didn’t know how it felt to have him like that, when you didn’t know his touch would be so tantalizing, his lips unbearably addicting, his warmth conquering.

Initially, you thought you’d cross any bridge regarding him when you came across it, but there weren’t any bridges around to reach him to begin with. You quickly realized that he had burned them before you, for everyone. So, you painstakingly built each and every one of them with your bare hands, desperate to get to him. And him shaking them felt immensely unfair, all your hard work threatened to fall.

Your hand on his chest pushes him away ever so slightly before his hand drops from your waist. He hisses softly yet the action hurts you more than it hurts him. He yields to your touch, back leaning on his propped-up pillow, waiting for you to gather the scatter of your thoughts patiently.

“Stop confusing me, Leon.”

“What do you mean?”

“What am I to you exactly?”

“You’re my wife,” he says. Obviously.

“So why doesn’t it feel like it?”

“We never guaranteed that it would.”

“Yeah, I know that. All this time I thought maybe we were doing better, now I don’t know Leon, you’re confusing me. Either stop giving me hope or just say it outright.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“That I’m just a fuck buddy to you.”

His jaw ticks, lips curl in disdain. “How shallow do you think I am?”

“I know we never established any boundaries between each other but it’s gotten to a point where I don’t know how I should act around you.”

His face stays stagnant. “You can’t be serious. Your boundaries were set from the beginning. You never had a place for me in your heart.”

Time seems to stop for you in that dire moment, Leon’s blue eyes serving you a new wrench of dismay. “When did I give off that impression?”

“Our first anniversary,” he clarifies hoarsely. “We ate pizza on the couch, remember?”

You do, you even remember the Disney movie he had rented as a cheeky nod to time you two first flirted. The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

“I always wonder why you said yes to my proposal in the first place,” he said after taking a bite from his pizza slice. It had been a year since getting married, Hunnigan was the one to point out to him. Apparently, she was proud of herself due to the fact that she was the one to introduce you two.

“I thought of Cathy and what she would’ve said to me,” you said, watching the animated Quasimodo sing his heart out to the town below him.

“What would she have said?”

“That it is ridiculous and maybe I should say yes.”

“So, you thought of what Cathy would’ve said to you getting married but not your family?”

You turned your head to him, ready to get vulnerable. “Cathy was family to me.”

“I didn’t know you two were that close.”

“Yeah, we met when we were roommates back in college. She urged me to change majors and follow her path.”

“To become an agent?”

“No, she was the one who always wanted to be a special agent. I didn’t know what to do at first but somehow ended up working alongside her.”

“What were you studying before?”

“I was studying to become a nurse. Kind of in my sister’s path, she’s a doctor.”

He scratched his nape, looking ashamed. “I believe I never asked that before, sorry about that.”

You elbowed his side after taking a sip of your drink. “Yeah, you better be sorry for not knowing what your sister-in-law does for work.”

He rolled his eyes upon your teasing. “Were they supportive of you changing majors? Your family, I mean.”

“My family’s always been small. It’s just me and my mom and sister. Dad’s never been in the picture. He left when I was a few months old. My mom raised us herself. And yes, she would support anything I did. She loved Cathy because she would make me do things I’d never do myself.”

“Your mom sounds like a great person.”

“She was. She died four days before Cathy did.”

“I’m… sorry to hear that,” he said, much more ashamed than before. You didn’t blame him, the first year of your marriage flew by really fast, with him on duty most of it. Forget sitting down like this to talk, you rarely got any chance to see him.

“Yeah, their deaths being so close fucked me up really bad. We were on mission. My mom was living with my sister then because she was sick. My sister didn’t tell me her condition was even worse than before.”

“Why?”

“Mom knew we were working on something big and begged my sister not to tell me. She thought she’d see me after I was done with the mission. I had a whole fight with my sister about it. I felt betrayed.”

“I think I would, too, in that situation.”

“I was so fucking unprofessional after that. I couldn’t keep on helping Cathy properly. And she—”

“It isn’t your fault.” He shook his head, meeting your gaze in the space between you two on the couch.

“I’m tired of hearing that,” you huffed.

“None of that is on you. It’s the truth.”

“It’s not. I knew the situation was going bad. Cathy tried to make me believe it was not. Somebody else had to be transferred to take my place instead. I insisted but I had to be taken out. That’s when we lost connection to her.”

“How did you know it was going bad?”

“I could tell from her voice. I know her better than I know myself. I failed to get her help. I should have never listened to her.”

“But you couldn’t do that, could you? She clearly gave you wrong intel. You can’t send back-up until—”

“I could’ve made it seem like she requested back-up. That would’ve saved her, exterminated the mission, but saved her. I’d have faced the consequences of my actions sooner or later. If I did that and saved her, she’d be mad at me for years but who cares as long as she’s safe and sound?”

“I get it. I’d also have someone mad at me if it meant they’d be safe.”

“In the end, she died for nothing. The cult she was infiltrating dispersed after they killed her, all fled to different countries. It’s harder to track them down now. They’re everywhere.”

“You follow through with it? It would be impossible to track down each mission.”

“Why do you think I’m in the archives? I have access to mission reports. They don’t think it is bioweapon related, so sometimes they let me see them.”

Esmeralda was dancing along people’s whistles, captivating every man in the square.

“You said Cathy died for nothing but you actually don’t want that to be true.”

Fiddling with your fingers, you said, “Obviously.”

“You’re loyal,” he remarked. “I’m sure she would’ve loved to see her mission completed. Do you ever think of working as an analyst again?”

“Nope.”

From his expression you could tell he wanted an explanation, so you gave him one, “I don’t want to see people get hurt anymore. It’s a dangerous job, you know it. Why are you asking me?”

“No offense, but then why did you agree to marry me knowing I do the same job? If you’re scared of losing someone this much—it just doesn’t make sense to me.”

You sighed, having a hard time thinking where to even start. “You’re going to call me crazy.”

“I would never,” he said, half-jokingly.

“Okay, I really did think what Cathy would tell me to do. I always listened to her, the whole time we got to spend together. She told me what she wanted to do with her life, told me I looked depressed with what I was studying and maybe we should join an academy together. She was larger than life, lit up an entire room with her presence, never spoke ill of someone, liked to help people in any way she could. I’ve always been shy, so she went above and beyond to find me decent blind dates.”

“She sounds wonderful. She was also your matchmaker?”

“In a way, yes. Dragged me to parties with her so I could have some fun.” You gave Leon a smile, recalling Cathy and her antics in your mind, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Nothing sounds crazy so far,” he reassured you.

Finished with your pizza, you dusted off the crumbs into the box and lifted up your knees to sit cross-legged facing him. “I couldn’t keep someone interested in me for more than two dates.”

“I find that hard to believe,” he replied, his eyes traveling up and down.

“No, seriously. This one time, a guy left mid-date, told me he had a phone call, paid for the coffees and just left. I waited there for half an hour. It dawned on me when I couldn’t see his car outside. Didn’t call me after.”

Leon shrugged one shoulder. “His loss.”

You smacked his bicep playfully as a way of thanking him for his compliment. “I only went on these dates because Cathy thought it would be good for me. I had a few fights with my sister about Cathy and her influence on me. She thought I was like her puppet but I genuinely don’t think like that. I told you I knew Cathy like the back of my hand. It was the same for her. Never pushed me to do something I’d be uncomfortable with. Well, I’d feel awkward at times but it would be momentary, I’d learn so much in the long run.”

“That’s a very healthy way of looking at things. I’m still waiting for the part where you think I’d call you crazy.”

“I trusted her judgment because I knew she only wanted the best for me. She’d definitely try to set me up with you if we weren’t so busy all the time,” you said, lips curling into a roguish smile.

His eyebrows shot up, being brazen about it. “Oh, you’re saying I’d have her approval?”

Especially when you keep raking your hands through your hair like that, you wished to say. “Yes, you would.”

“Thank you, that means so much.”

“You didn’t even know her.”

“Well, she means so much to you, I feel honored that you think that way.”

A haze of grief washing over your heart, lungs expanding, you started, “I also… never mind.”

A comforting hand fell on you shoulder, shaking you slightly. “Now you have to say it, don’t leave me hangin'.”

“Here’s the crazy part,” you swallowed dryly. “Whenever I thought of my future, it was always with Cathy. I didn’t even think of getting married. I thought we’d retire together when the time came, she and Allison—her girlfriend—would live next to me. And if they ever had the chance, they’d marry and maybe have kids. I’d look after them like they were my own, be the best aunt. Isn’t it crazy, dreaming of looking after someone else’s kids and not yours? Sometimes I’d lay my head down and imagine myself in a little community, living next door to Cathy and her family, growing my own vegetable garden—though I don’t know the first thing about gardening but I’d learn! I would also grow pretty flowers and give them out to anyone who decided to come over. Go to the bakery in the morning, greet everyone on the way and grab my breakfast fresh out the oven. I’d get so fat! Eating baked goods every day, sounds like heaven to me.”

“Indeed.” With a fond smile on his face, he took of his hand from your shoulder and fully turned to you, bending one leg up on the cushions. “I don’t think I met an Allison at the funeral, was she there?”

“She was,” you said, remembering the painful conversation you had with her. “She arrived really early and left before anyone from work came.”

“What happened?” he asked, noticing you ripping skin off your fingers just like you had been doing during that day.

“I tried to talk to her. She told me I was a liar and walked out—” Leon interrupted your chain of thoughts by taking your hand, preventing you from damaging your fingers further. “I couldn’t keep my promise to her. It’s awful. I told her before the mission that it was going to be okay, we’d done this with Cathy many times and I’d make sure to keep her in one piece.”

Your other hand had a death grip on your knee, nails digging and leaving indents to keep yourself grounded. “They tortured Cathy while she was captive. She died because she refused to give them any information.”

Leon seemed like he didn’t want you to continue, placed your hand in his as though he was reading your palm and started to fidget with your gold wedding band on your ring finger. “Tell me more about that dream of yours. I bet you wouldn’t even install normal ceiling lights in your house. It’d just be little lamps everywhere.”

Giggling, you said, “Yeah! I’d be that auntie that collects little trinkets and displays them all around her house. I’d learn how to knit and make so many ugly sweaters for God knows anyone.”

“So, no partner living with you? Just you with your trinkets?”

“There’s so many types of love and I just didn’t see myself in a romantic one. It just happened that I never pictured myself alone. That’s it.”

His hands slipped away after your raw confession, broad back straightening, appearing tensed up. Yet again, you couldn’t make out what his expression meant.

Esmeralda was now singing a hymn, Quasimodo staring at her in admiration from the shadows.

“I talked so much today, now’s your turn. I feel embarrassed that you know my abysmal attempts at finding love. How about you, Leon? You got any embarrassing stories that you can tell?”

His answer was quick and mischievous, “Yeah, this one time this lady just got up and left me at the bar. In the middle of an argument.”

You pursed your lips and bumped on his knee on the cushions, restraining a laugh you know he’d get satisfaction out of. “Don’t piss me off, that wasn’t even a date.”

“I had a girlfriend when I was twenty-one, she broke up with me before I started working as a cop.”

“That’s so long ago and not that embarrassing if I’m being honest,” you sniffed at him.

“I already told you about how I thought I’d marry her. I really believed my first ever relationship would live to see its future.”

Offering him a new perspective, you explained, “Well, technically it did, it just wasn’t a bright one.”

“Pshh,” he scoffed, turning to the TV, stretching before bending his arms behind his head. “Wait—you’re telling me I’m the only long-term guy you had?”

His late light-bulb moment pulled a chuckle out of you. “Turning it back to me again, okay. No, I did date a guy for nearly one year. And before you ask, he said I worked too much and wasn’t fun.”

Leon’s face scrunching as if he just ate something sour, he blurted out, “Where do you find these types of guys? Did Cathy set you up with this asshole?”

“No, actually, I found him myself.”

“Is he the one who made you think you’re not fun to be around?”

You were left stumped, unable to think of any answer.

“What? If he is, I disagree with him.”

“You only say that because I go along with your corny jokes.”

“Yeah, that’s the only reason,” he chimed sarcastically.

Quasimodo was saving Esmeralda from the burning stake, the sign that the movie was about to end.

“Your dream,” he cleared his throat. “I could just picture it like a happy ending to a Disney movie. You know, they all have happy endings. Besides, I don’t think you’re insane for wanting a happy, peaceful life.”

“What’s insane about it is that I even imagined myself dying before Cathy. Getting buried before I got to bury her. I’ve never thought I’d live the day she wouldn’t, yet here I am… I wrote an entire script for the rest of my life in my mind, that’s why I spiraled down and down and down when it was not possible to play it out anymore. So, I stopped. It wasn’t healthy for me to continue obsessing over my ruined happy ending. I decided to live in the present. Write as I live on. Be more like Cathy, hopefully.”

There was little beer left in his can but he raised it anyway. “In the loving memory of Cathy Donovan, then.”

“I don’t have any drink left,” you gasped, lifting your can. “Cathy, I’m so sorry, you deserve the fruitiest of Martinis.” If Cathy was there, she would’ve laughed like a hyena, found it hysterical that you managed to call her fruity given the context.

After the honorary toast, Leon leaned back and intertwined his hands on his stomach, eyes fixed on the TV screen where Phoebus and Esmeralda were passionately kissing.

“The novel’s ending was not family friendly, I guess,” you mocked.

“I haven’t read it.”

 “If you’re planning on reading it, my lips are sealed.”

“Don’t know if I have the time. I don’t mind, tell me.”

“It’s painfully sad. Esmeralda gets hanged, Quasimodo pushes Frollo from the cathedral tower in grief and rage. That’s the moment he realizes he’s lost everyone he’s ever loved. He also refuses to let go of Esmeralda, starves himself holding on to her dead body in her grave. Years later, an excavation group finds their intertwined skeletons and when they try to separate them, Quasimodo’s bones crumble to dust.”

“Now that’s vile.”

Toss your dirty shoes in my washing machine heart Baby, bang it up inside I'm not wearing my usual lipstick I thought maybe we would kiss tonight

Baby, though I've closed my eyes I know who you pretend I am I know who you pretend I am

—Washing Machine Heart, Mitski

“How would I know I’d end up here?” you ask him, voice shaking. “We didn’t promise each other anything, so I didn’t have any hope.”

You want nothing more than to ask him about the teddy bear keychain he has in desk drawer, why he holds onto it, ask whether you should be relieved that it no longer has a key attached to it.

There is that gut feeling, clawing at your churning stomach, that tells you he has someone. Someone else who knows him better than you, who is a better match to him, who makes him happier.

Someone he loves.

“But we had sex, it made me question everything and I’ve come to the conclusion that we were both lonely and weren’t thinking straight. You acted like it didn’t change anything, it almost made me go crazy. Please say something so I can finally understand, Leon,” you cry out.

“I don’t regret it,” he declares. “I don’t regret what we did. And I know how we started this marriage, I assumed it would always be the same after you told me your feelings.”  

“I admit I’m hard to be with.” Your head hangs to the side, brows furrowed. “It’s hard for me to trust someone as much as I trusted Cathy. I’m sorry it took two years for us to be candid with each other. I used to be laidback about who I slept around with before. Now, I don’t know, I think twice about how I should touch you, talk to you. I used to think romantic love was not for me, so I wasn’t worried when you proposed because you didn’t expect it. I thought it wasn’t for people like us.”

“But you are capable of love,” he emphasized. “I know you are. You’re so good to me all the time. You stay up all night worrying when I’m not home, cook food for me despite your hatred for it, remember the smallest things and help me out, talk to me when I can’t sleep. I can’t even repay you for any of it and you still continue to be good to me. See, you’re speaking in a way that’s making me think there’s a chance that you love me and I still can’t say it back.”

Your silent tears unsettle him, this is the first time you let him see you cry. He has heard it before, the soft sobs and small chokes at night when you didn’t know he was awake.

You sniffle, “I know you’re capable of it, too, Leon. If the reason you can’t say it back to me is what I think it is, you definitely are.”

You quickly wipe your tears with the back of your hand when he asks, “What do you mean?”

“There is someone, right? You love them.”

His silence speaks volumes and it becomes your acceptance.

“Don’t let this thing between us hamper it, okay? I’m fine with it. To be honest, I didn’t expect you to keep up the faithful husband act.”

“Jesus,” he howls. “Just how terrible do you think I am? This thing between us is our fucking marriage. Not some situationship. Although I can’t make you think otherwise because you refuse to. I’m only gonna say this once, okay? I respect you enough to not sleep around behind your back.”

“Thank you, Leon, but I’m saying it doesn’t matter. None of it matters.” You take both of his hands, wanting to remember the feel of him. “You love someone else and it’s okay. You’re better off with them. Hopefully they’re better at love than I am.”

You take off your ring and place it in your palm, caressing it. “I know I probably shouldn’t be asking for this but I got so used to the weight of it on my finger. Can I have it as a keepsake?”

He grips your wrist tightly, grimacing. “What are you doing?”

“This is me letting you go.”

“No.” He shakes his head, voice thick. The way he places the ring on your finger again is a wretched overcompensation for not doing it before. You two didn’t have rings at the wedding and you were the one to place it on your own finger after purchasing them. “You’re running away,” he speaks in a hoarse croak. “Where will you go this time, hm?”

“I’ll resign and move close to my sister.”

His palms are cupping your jaw, fingertips in your hair. Him closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against yours is a way of saying I can love you if you give me time, I know I can.

“Stay,” he whispers, narrowing your whole world down to his warmth and you shudder from it. “Just tell me what you need.”

I need you to love me more, love enough to fill me up till there’s no crack left for me to write happy ever afters that will never come true. I need you to fill me full up, love enough to drown it out. Drown me out.

“Kiss me.”

“That I can do, honey.”

You know perfectly well that you’re selfish for wanting him like this. However, you yearn for the still of his hands on you, the irresistible feel of his skin on yours.

A kiss is placed on your temple, another one on your damp cheekbone, another on your jaw. Your eyes are closed the whole time he moves slow with his kisses. He grazes his nose beneath your ear, bringing you close to the brink of tears again. His hot breath is licking the other side of your face after, pecking the corner of your mouth.

“Scoot,” he says before gripping your waist and tipping you towards his torso. “My back is killing me like this.”

You’re afraid of hurting him with your weight but he insists, pulling you and placing you on his lap, getting you to straddle him, your thighs encasing his on either side. Your face a few inches above his, he tips his head back and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You can see a gash on his shoulder that disappears down his back which you didn’t notice before and you become aware once again that this isn’t the right moment to ask him for this.

“Leon—”

He can tell you’re about to get off him and he shuts you up by pulling you in a crushing kiss, pressing your chest to his with arms around your back so you won’t get away. “Stay here, don’t run away from me,” he says between labored breaths. His fingertips dance on your sides, making the hair on the back of your neck stand. He can probably feel your heart thumping crazy against his chest.

You caress the indent on his chin with your pointer finger, leaning down to kiss it. Leon lets out a delicious sigh, hands feeling up the sides of your thighs.

“Why did you kiss me at the wedding? There was no one to see,” you finally ask.

He lifts an eyebrow, eyes flicking to the side trying to remember it. “The officiant was there. And the photographer.”

You nod and his lips are on yours again, tender this time. He opts to place quick kisses over and over again when he’s done being gentle. A chuckle escapes you when his nose bumps yours.

Fingers drifting under your shirt, he scratches your back up and down with his blunt nails. Any inch of skin he comes across, he kisses. Earlobe, jaw, neck, shoulder peeking through shirt. One hand splaying his fingers on your back, middle finger in line with your spine, right between your shoulder blades, the other one comes up front, lifting the front hem of your shirt. “Take this off.”

He doesn’t move the hand on your back when you’re taking it off, eyes dropping down to meet the new exposed skin. But you feel too naked, even though he’s wearing the same amount of clothes as you. You hug him around his neck, careful not to hurt him, bare chests pressed together.

He clasps the tops of your arms, biting the inside of one bicep.

“Ouch.” You retreat. “Why did you do that?”

“Let me see you.” He tips you backwards after his hand comes up to your nape, your butt slides on his lap, making you sit right on his crotch. He lets out a content hum, not embarrassed of his half hard erection. You cling to his biceps although his hand on the back of your neck is securing you in place.

A kiss is planted to the base of your throat and then to each collarbone. The hand on the front cups the underside of your breast, goosebumps rising on your skin. A wet kiss on the valley of your breasts, his breath cooling it. A low moan from you when he takes a stiff nipple in his hot mouth, finally giving it some attention. He twirls his tongue around it, teasing, before licking it right.

Your hips move involuntarily, rubbing against him through clothes all the while he sucks, kisses, grazes teeth. A jolt of electricity travels down to your core when he switches sides, underwear clinging to your sticky folds. You keen into him, pushing your chest out when he begins to suck a bruise under your breast. Your fingers dig into his scalp, tugging on his damp strands.

You discern his knitted brows and inclined back before tapping his shoulder. “Leon, stop.”

He halts the moment he hears you. The sight of a string of spit connecting his lips to your chest is obscene. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re hurting. You should lay down,” you say while standing up.

His eyes never leaving you, he gets off the bed as well. He seizes you under your arms, picking you up with ease. “See, honey? I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.” He doesn’t let you protest and nips at your bottom lip before sloppily kissing you, tongue claiming every crevice of your mouth.

“No, put me down!” you wail, kicking your feet in the air.

“Okay, okay,” he grins, setting you down on the floor. Your heated cheeks amusing him, he takes your hand and places it on the waistband of his sweatpants. “This is the only thing you need to worry about.”

You decide to be daring and slide your hand down, palming him through layers of clothing. “Fuck,” he huffs, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against yours, big hands pawing at your backside, fondling your ass. Your hand slips past his briefs, touching him without any barriers.

“Oh, just like that,” he encourages you when you pick up a pace. His abs tightening, it doesn’t take long for him to fully get hard. “Ah, wait—”

“Hm?” You look up at him, just holding him in your palm.

“Need to get a condom, be right back.” He squeezes your ass one last time. “You better take everything off,” he teases before stepping away to get to the bathroom.

Second thoughts come rushing to your mind the time he’s undressing and grabbing a condom in the bathroom. Maybe, you shouldn’t do this. It’s only going to make it harder for the both of you. You admitted loving him and he wasn’t able to say it back. But he told you to stay, he needs you, wants what you’re able to give him. And you desperately need to give him all you have, mind and body, even if it means for a short time.

Because you know you will never be able to love like this again.

Your thoughts are interrupted when a packet of condom is thrown on the bed in front of you, hands gathering your hair on one shoulder to return messy kisses to your neck from the back.

Your back meets his pecs, his erection snug between your bare ass cheeks, you sigh softly when his fingers find their way to your clit, making your spine tingle. You hold on to his forearm, clawing at his veins as he gathers your wetness from your entrance, back to circling your bundle of nerves with now soaked fingers. His bandaged hand urges you to spread your legs more before finding place on your throat. He ruts his hips against your ass, breathing loudly while you whine out incoherent sounds.

He groans your name, drawing your attention up to his scrunched face. “You’re so good to me.”

“Leon,” you whimper as he drags two fingers all the way along your slit, pumping them inside. The way you stretch around his fingers distracts him from the rhythm of his hips, making him still. But you crave the friction, arch back your own hips to get him to move again. Your hand winds around and finds his aching hard dick, thumb stroking the precum all over his angry red tip. Your head rolls back over his shoulder and you want nothing more than to properly see.

“Leon, I’m close,” you moan and push his hand away. “I want to see you.”

“Anything you want, honey,” he pants in your ear, tip of his tongue tracing the shell of it.

You crawl to the middle of the bed, endowing him the sight of your glistening slit before laying down on your back, waiting for him to get on top of you. He parts your legs, taking a good look before smearing his tip on your folds, a mix of your wetness and his precum making it extra slippery.

“Please,” you manage to make out, one arm across your chest, another resting on his shoulder.

He rips your arm from your chest and pulls both your wrists above your head. “I said let me see you.”  

He doesn’t let you fuss, fucking up his cock against your clit, allowing himself the bare feel of you for a little while.

He kisses your pout away before retreating to roll the condom on. You hiss as his tip breaches your entrance, legs trying to close on instinct, but he’s laying between them. He gets you used to the feel of him inside before you nod for him to move, slowly at first. Once your back arches and your hips shift, he gets the message to piston his hips faster.

He searches for the right pace just by examining you, what your face does when he tries something new, how your back arches, by the sounds you make. Not too fast, not too slow, he eventually finds an angle you particularly like.

“Too good for me,” he chants whilst thrusting, intertwining his fingers with yours above your head. You notice the absence of his ring but you don’t worry about it because you know he leaves it on his desk when he’s away for a mission, not wanting to lose it.

Your legs hug him around his waist, heels pressing him into you deeper. “Yes, yes, yes…” You keep singing his name when you feel it building up inside.

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last long,” he grunts, listening to the slaps of skin and your frantic cries of pleasure.

“Good ‘cause I’m so close.”

He takes that as a challenge, making sure you reach your high before him. He watches as you do, walls clenching down on his length, lips chasing his.

He’s cooing in your ear between your gasps, coaxing your bliss out of you. “I know, honey, I gotcha. You can let go.”

Your mouth opening in a silent moan as your orgasm ripples through you, hands trembling in his hold, legs trying to shut, your entire body quivering as you ride it out.

Irregular thrusts of his hips bouncing your breasts in front of him, he nestles his face between them, breathing in your scent. He noses the blossoming mark he left under there and moves slow, dragging it out as much as possible.

He sinks boneless on you, his weight feeling comforting rather than crushing. You embrace him as he softens out of you, leaving you feeling empty. He peels the condom off and lays on you for a while, head between your ribs, trying to catch his breath. You wipe away sweat from his temple, frowning.

“You’ll have to hop in the shower again.”

“Give me a few minutes,” he says, voice muffled and nasal. “And you’re coming with me, too.”

“Leon!” you shriek, playfully slapping his twitching bicep. “You shouldn’t tire yourself more.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter. I was gonna ask you to wash my back.”

After a few minutes, you drag him in the shower, helping him soap his back. He stands under the hot rain when you’re cleaning yourself with his body wash, eyes and hands wandering, groping here and there. You smack his naughty hands each time, can’t help but giggle. However, he’s tired and sleepy, so he’s only playing.

You offer to change his sheets but he insists on doing it in the morning and tugs your arm to your room, preferring to sleep in your clean sheets. He nearly falls asleep as you blow-dry your hair, waiting for you in the bed.

As soon as you’re snuggled up to him, he tucks you to his chest, chin on your forehead. Soft sighs tickle the crown of your hair.

“Can I ask you a question?” he murmurs, barely audible.

Your pointer finger stops drawing circles on his pectoral muscle. “Mhm?”

“After your mom and Cathy passed away, how did you survive? There has to be a reason.”

“I actually planned to end it all after both funerals. I told myself to just get past that week. It’ll all be over in a week. But there’s my sister. She came with me to help with Cathy’s funeral. Forced me to eat anything she could cook while I lived on autopilot. She was washing my hair in the sink when I realized I can’t leave her behind. It’s just not fair. She has a wonderful husband but a husband doesn’t mean forever— I mean, look at what my mother got. A deadbeat husband who left her with two little kids. My sister doesn’t have any kids. Worst case scenario, her husband leaves her and—”

He retracts abruptly to search your face, hand on your cheek to steer you to him. “So, you wrote a script again. With a sad ending.”

“My sister is my only family left. I don’t want her to live unhappily.”

“Hey, I’m your family, too. Why are you talking like I’m not here?” He presses a long, soothing kiss to your lips. His fingers tip your chin up. “Look at me. What do you have in that mind of yours? What kind of script do you have for us?”

You lie. “I don’t have one.”

He smiles. “Good. Because we’ll write one as we go on.”

(a/n: a very short part 2 will be posted here in a few days, keep an eye out for that. ty for reading!)

PART I | PART II | PART III

[aurumalatus]

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 (𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔)

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

word count. 3.4k

genre/warnings. childhood friends to lovers (yes kinich literally invented this trope okay. sue me), mini-drabbles, childhood to university, modern!au, fluff and slight angst, lots of bantering but it's light-hearted i promise

summary.

you've always been a sore loser—kinich is just the only one brave enough to say it. or, you and kinich fall in love over the course of your lives, and one thing never changes—you're both idiots

author's note. credit to @/scythidol for the header images! a bit of a different fic format this time (who is she....). i'm sick over kinich, i have nothing clever to say or excuses to make. that's all, thank you for reading! i'm finishing this at 5am so i'll fix any errors later lol. reblogs/interaction highly appreciated!

I.

“You’re annoying.”

The old TV in your backyard treehouse buzzes with static and the constant thumps of Kinich’s fingers against the controller buttons.

It’s a summer evening—crickets chirp merrily in the grass and lightning bugs float lazily through the air, glowing among the stars. You’re sitting next to him, knees pulled to your chest and the straw of a Capri-Sun settled between your lips.

His reaction (or lack thereof) to your words leaves you less than entertained, a sour pout fixed on your lips as he sighs.

“You’re a sore loser. We said whoever got up here first got to play first.” Despite the intense game occurring on the screen in front of him, he diverts about half his attention to watching you out of the corner of his eye. “And I got up here first.”

“But you always win,” you whine. Kinich nudges at his own juice box with his knee, and you roll your eyes before picking it up and holding it to his lips—he drinks gratefully, still focused on his game. You’re not sure why you keep agreeing to this bet; you don’t think you’ve ever won.

“Then you need to get faster.”

Both of you know that such a feat would be impossible—Kinich has been the fastest kid in your grade since you started school. His athleticism affords him a bit of popularity, still at the age where winning a playground race is essentially the deciding factor between the cool kids and the lame ones. But he’s not interested in any of that, and he makes that quite clear in his actions.

After all, all the popular kids avoid him since he started a fight with them last year. 

“They were saying things about you,” he’d shrugged, like it was no big deal. The school seemed to think a bit differently, and his suspension felt like the longest week of your life.

The screen flashes then, a loud and colorful display that shows the words “you win”. Kinich leans back in his seat, a pleased half-smile spreading across his face. 

“Okay, now you can play.”

He tries to hand you the controller, but you huff, crossing your arms and turning away.

“I don’t even wanna play anymore.”

Kinich is far more mature than you at this age—even your own mother tells you as much—so he merely sighs, accepting of your tantrum.

“Okay, what do you wanna do then?”

You ponder that for a moment. There’s a lot of things you do often, but many of them are things that Kinich is much better at than you. Playing video games, climbing trees, riding bikes—he’s far more talented at them all. It’s one of the reasons you even became friends in the first place—you’d practically begged him to teach you to beat the final boss of Super Mario Galaxy, and the rest was history.

“I don’t know,” you mumble noncommittally, blowing your straw wrapper at him. It lands right on target, bouncing lightly off his forehead as he rolls his eyes.

“Come on, whatever you wanna do, we’ll do it,” he says, poking at your cheek. “I’ll even play house.”

And you know Kinich hates playing house—he has boundless amounts of energy most days, and house isn’t “challenging” enough of a game for him to expend it. But he does it occasionally, just for you.

You brighten at the prospect. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighs, already descending the treehouse ladder, waving you along. “Let’s go inside first, though. I’m hungry.”

Scrambling to your feet, you jump down to meet Kinich, already standing in the grass.

“Last one inside is a rotten egg!”

II.

The rainstorm ends just as classes dismiss—when you walk out the school entrance, a slight drizzle is still letting up, fresh puddles lapping at your toes. Kinich’s gaze finds you instantly as he slinks out of the school gates, bag tossed loosely over his shoulder.

“My socks are wet now,” you whine, patting down the edges of your skirt to look down at your shoes. You’d only just bought them recently, and your mom likely wouldn’t be pleased with the prospect of you ruining them so soon.

Kinich chuckles at first, a snarky sound as thick as the gathering clouds, only to sigh when your pout persists.

“Alright, alright,” he relents, squatting to the ground and gesturing for you to get on his back. “Don’t say I never did anything for you.”

He’s a bit frail, still in his growing phase—his bones and muscles shift rhythmically under his skin as he walks—but he’s so distinctly warm. The heat makes you curl closer, nose brushing against his neck.

He walks you home most days like this, spending the day at your house until the sky grows dark with dusk. His home life is something he rarely discusses, but you know enough, and you’re happy to welcome him to yours.

“You’re slow,” you mumble into his shoulder. The steady thump of his steps is comforting, nearly putting you to sleep.

“You’re heavy,” Kinich replies teasingly, adjusting your weight atop his back. His words are biting, but he’s being careful with his steps nonetheless, taking each one lightly so as not to jostle you.

“You’re rude,” you scoff back. His nose scrunches in annoyance when you loop your arms tighter around his neck, pretending to choke him as punishment. “You’re not supposed to say that to a girl.”

He blows his bangs out of his eyes, peering up at the newly visible sun that starts to dip low in the sky. You watch a cat scurry through the bushes to your right, golden eyes peering through the foliage before disappearing into the darkness. 

“Yeah, that’s why I’m saying it to you.”

Kinich is always a bit wittier than you, a bit quicker to the punch, but you like that about him. You like a lot of things about him, and you’re sure he knows it, too. A weighty silence settles between the two of you, unnatural—it’s usually you who fills the silence, and Kinich who patiently listens.

But something bigger sits at the back of your mind, and the words are having trouble surmounting the obstacle of your tongue. 

You’re still floundering for something to say by the time your house appears in the distance. The sight lights a fire under you—you don’t want to discuss something like this with your mother in earshot. You force the words out, voice weak and small.

“I heard Mualani confessed to you yesterday.”

The rumor had flown through the school like wildfire. Mualani is popular with the boys after all, so there’s bound to be quite a bit of heartbreak if she ends up in a relationship. Someone had seen them together at that sakura tree behind the school, and it instantly became a hot topic—it’s all you’ve heard about all day.

And though you know it’s not really any of your business, you can’t help but be curious, and the thought fills you with dread.

You manage a glance at his expression, searching for any sort of unrest, but he doesn’t show any at all. In fact, he seems wholly uninterested in the topic.

He shrugs. “Yeah, so?”

You take a deep breath for courage—you’re not sure you want to hear his answer. 

“So? What did you tell her?”

And it’s nothing against Mualani, really—she’s kind and beautiful, and you wouldn’t blame Kinich for falling for her. She’s never done anything wrong to you at all. But a beat passes, and you’re already halfway through mourning the end of your long-time crush when he replies.

“I told her I was flattered, but I wasn’t interested.”

A sigh of relief escapes you then, but you reel it in quickly—he can probably feel you relax against his back at his response.

“Oh,” is all you say, as aloof as you can manage. Kinich latches onto your hesitation instantly.

“Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” comes your hasty reply. “...Is there any reason you said no, though?”

He frowns. “I don’t know. She just isn’t my type.”

“...Then what is your type?”

You’re going too far, you know—even just speaking the words has your chest twisting painfully, and you want to crawl into a hole and disappear. If Kinich isn’t an idiot, he can surely tell why you’re practically breathing down his neck over the whole thing.

But maybe Kinich is a little bit of an idiot, at least about these things, because he merely shrugs.

“Not sure. Never really thought about it.”

A frost unfurls in your chest, bitter—of course Kinich wouldn’t know, he’s never thought about anyone that way. Including you.

“Right.” You attempt a laugh, teeth gritting. “It’s all stupid anyway.”

You drop your head into his shoulder, trying to hide the pained expression on your face, and only then does Kinich’s stare flicker to you, soft.

“Right,” he says, a quiet rumble from his chest. “It’s really, really stupid.”

III.

Walks turn to drives when Kinich turns sixteen and buys his own car.

He’d saved up for months, working part-time jobs on weekends and after school, until the day finally came when he pulled up into your driveway, keys in hand. Your mom had been overwhelmingly proud—bought a cake and everything—and you’d merely been grateful that you no longer had to beg her to drive you places. 

It’s nothing crazy, just a simple sedan, but it represents a freedom that the two of you have never experienced together before.

That’s how you end up parked underneath the flickering streetlight just outside your house, excitedly recounting a story to your best friend. He’d driven you home from your club after school, an errand that always ended in several other stops—today, it had been fast food and boba.

His eyes seem to glow in the fading daylight, a pretty jade and amber that you’ve always thought was beautiful. It feels a bit more intense with his stare trained on you—Kinich isn’t the talkative type, sure, but he always ensures that you know he’s listening.

“So then she was asking me about you.”

“Mhm.”

“And get this,” a nervous chuckle escapes you then, “she thought we were dating.”

Everything falls still.

It’s times like this that you really start to hate just how unreadable your best friend can be. Despite how much you tease him for it, you actually enjoy how difficult it can be to force an expression out of him—it’s a little challenge every day. But now, when you’re on the precipice of pouring your heart out, his impassive expression stings.

Nothing on his face changes, save for a slight tilt of his head—he’s considering your words. The silence feels endless; a lump starts to form in your throat, humiliation burning at your cheeks. 

“I know, it’s so ridiculous,” you assert hurriedly, trying to avoid the rush of shame. “I mean, we would never—”

“Tell her we are, then.”

You’re sure that in that moment, your heart stops. 

Truthfully, you hadn’t planned to get this far—you were planning on brushing over that part of the story and moving on, but something deep in your heart had forced it out of you. Now, you aren’t sure what you really want to happen.

It’s always been your underlying fear, that once Kinich finds out, everything will change. Or even if he does return your feelings, it’ll all go up in flames eventually and you’ll never be the same. It’s terrifying enough to have kept your mouth shut all these years.

A tense laugh erupts from your throat, cutting through the silence. “I—I mean, it’s not that simple—”

He arches a brow. “Do you not want to?”

That’s another difference between you and Kinich—he’s far more straightforward about getting things that he wants. It’s one of the reasons that people misinterpret him as cold, but he sees it as being logical.

You gnaw at your lip, fingers tracing over the car door. Do you?

If the countless daydreams and romantic notebook doodles are anything to go by, you do. You really do. You’re just not sure if you’re brave enough to take that step.

When you look at him again, he’s observing you carefully, a delicate fondness lying in his stare. You shrink under the weight of it.

“No, I do,” you admit quietly. 

The moment falls still, and your eyes are drawn to the only movement within your line of vision—the quick bob of Kinich’s throat. Then, his hand advances toward your face at a measured pace, giving you endless opportunities to retreat.

Of course, you don’t.

“Can I…?” he asks, barely a brush of a whisper. The tension runs thick in the air as his tongue peeks out, swiping over his bottom lip at a tantalizing pace. It’s nearly enough to drive you crazy, but you know he’s just as anxious.

“Yes,” you breathe, wincing at the sound of your own voice—it sounds almost too eager.

But Kinich presses his lips to yours all the same, soft and wanting, and your heart flutters in your chest. It’s a chaste kiss, nothing like the fireworks-exploding-making-out-with-tongue types you’ve seen on TV, but it’s just right—it feels like him, and that’s all that matters. He pulls away slightly, lips still millimeters away from yours.

“I like you. If I’m not wrong, you like me too. I think it’s that simple.”

You almost want to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Though you’d never admit it, you’ve practiced this scenario thousands of times in front of your bedroom mirror—what you would say to him, what he might say to you. Leave it to Kinich to not follow the script.

But he’s always done things his own way, so really, you should’ve expected this.

Gently, he reaches for your hand, fingers slotting through yours with ease. You sigh.

“I guess it is.”

IV.

“...that far, huh?”

Kinich stares at you upside down, head dangling off the edge of your bed as you sit at your desk, laptop keys clicking rapidly. He knows you’re serious about your future goals; you both are. He just never imagined it would bring the two of you so far apart.

You pause with one hand resting on the mouse, still staring at the screen. The map looks so daunting, too daunting, and you can’t imagine being that far away from him. 

An awkward, weighted silence hangs in the air, and by the time a few seconds pass, you’ve already foreseen eighty different bad endings for this situation. Clearing your throat once, you force yourself to speak.

“Kinich, I—”

“I get it.”

He doesn’t mean to interrupt you so suddenly, but he does. He couldn’t stop himself if he tried. Because while he does understand—he really does—he also can’t help the stinging sensation of tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. It feels pathetic. It feels selfish. Here you are, chasing your dreams and supporting his, and he’s caught on the fact that there will be a little space between the two of you. And it’s not like it’s anyone’s fault, but maybe you’ll get tired of waiting and—

“You’ll come back to me, right?”

There’s an unmistakable thickness to your voice, evidence of the steadily growing lump in your weary throat. It grows larger with every passing second, an insurmountable mass dwarfed only by the impending distance between you and him.

That question catches Kinich off-guard, and he nearly wants to laugh then; not because he doubts you at all, but because he doesn’t, and he finds it ridiculous that you would ever think otherwise. Here you are, worrying about him.

Kinich doesn’t have any doubts or fears. He never does when he’s with you.

Maybe that’s why.

With a light laugh, he lets his eyes flutter closed, finally allowing an uneven breath to fill his lungs. The natural light outside is slowly dimming, the fluorescent lamps dotting your street flicking on one by one. He knows he should go home soon. His car is sitting outside, the same one the two of you have had endless adventures, fights, and make-ups in. It’s the same one he will use when he moves an unfathomable distance away from you. The same one he will use on the day you will cry, clinging to him like your life depends on it, before watching him disappear into nothing but a mere dot in the distance.

His fist clenches at his side. 

But you’re still here, the closest feeling he has to home, and you’re still in love with him, and he is still in love with you.

Maybe that’s why this is enough, for now. 

Turning onto his stomach, Kinich sees you right-side up this time, and it’s like nothing has changed.

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.” 

V.

A knock echoes on your apartment door in the middle of the night.

You raise a brow at the sound, a bit unnerved—a lone college girl answering the door in the dark isn’t the safest thing, you think as you peek one eye through the peephole. But there’s a familiar figure standing outside, and it has your hand turning the knob immediately and flinging the door open.

He’s here.

“Kinich,” you breathe, in disbelief. Last you’d heard, he was somewhere halfway across the country, and certainly nowhere near your front door. But he’s here, in a black hoodie and grey sweatpants, looking like he’s just walked out of your dreams.

“Hey,” he says simply, as if his appearance hadn’t been totally shocking. He takes advantage of your shell-shocked state to invite himself inside, curiously looking through your apartment. “Nice place.”

You step aside in a daze. “Kinich—you—what are you doing here?”

He’s holding three flimsy bags in his fist, grocery store logos and restaurant labels stamped over the plastic, keys hanging off his pinky finger. He’d come prepared, clearly, but for what you’re not sure. 

He towers over you a bit more than he used to, hair a bit longer, and everything about him feels so grown up. It reminds you of all the moments the two of you have missed over the years, how much change has occurred beneath your nose, maybe without you realizing. 

He spreads the bags over your kitchen table—the mouth-watering smell of Chinese takeout filters through the air, and your stomach grumbles in reply. But it’s your tear ducts that react initially, a sting at the corners of your eyes as you squeeze them shut.

Kinich doesn’t notice at first, absorbed in inspecting the photos displayed on your wall—photos of you, photos of him, photos of the two of you together. It makes his chest warm that you still think about those times. He does too—after all, it’s rare that you leave his mind.

But he turns back to you, tears running rivers down your cheeks, and his breath hitches.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, carefully cupping your face. A lilt of panic laces his voice. “Does something hurt? Are you sick?”

“You’re here,” you sob, curling into his shoulder. None of it feels real. He’s warm and firm beneath your fingers, and you clutch at him tighter, half-expecting everything to disappear. It’s so much different than FaceTime or calling or anything else you do when he’s away. Because right now, he’s completely within your reach, and everything falls into place.

“Of course I am,” he murmurs. You cry into his hoodie, soaking the fabric with your tears, but he holds you close all the same. “Because you’re here.”

You spend a few minutes that way—you crying until your tears dry over your skin, and him comfortingly rubbing at your back. Air slowly returns to your lungs, and you sniffle, glassy eyes meeting his. 

“But why? I mean, it’s the middle of the semester, isn’t it?”

A rare half-smirk graces his lips.

“We made a promise. I came back to you first. So I do believe that means that I win,” he says. If you weren’t so emotional, you might have rolled your eyes—of course, all he ever focuses on is winning.

He drags you over to the couch, laying down and pulling you on top of him, safe. You draw closer to him, tangling your limbs together until you’re not sure where he ends and you begin.

“You’re annoying,” you whisper, muffled into his chest.

Kinich shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“You’re still a sore loser. Thought you’d grow out of that by now.”

You grumble a few choice words at him, and he smiles—a sight that only you and the stars can claim to have ever seen.

And he’s right; you are a sore loser, and he’s been right just about every time he told you so. But you find it doesn’t matter, not really.

You could never win against Kinich anyway.

(Maybe you never wanted to.)

[yndrgrl]

katsuki bakugo is the only man who can help bunnygirl! you during heat.

established relationship. normal! au. first time as a couple.

warnings: nsfw, lowkey angst ngl, fellatio, praise, slight degradation, creampie

if you're here for the nsfw part, i marked it >:)

a/n: dude, idk why my last fic has that "mature" label 😭 also is this a hypersexual comfort fic? yeah.

---

"are you okay? you look hot?"

"your forehead is on fire!"

"you look red. drink some water."

you've been hearing that non-stop all day. of course, you know that everyone has good intentions, but it was so annoying.

no, you didn't feel fine, nor did you feel sick. it was a strange, embarrassing thing to admit. in a world full of truly remarkable quirks, you just had to get a basic one. your quirk was rabbit. you know mirko? yeah, well you two are in the same boat.

you have floppy bunny ears the same color as your hair, a puff ball of a bunny tail, & muscular legs. all so cutesy & alright to deal with. the behavioral traits were what got you though. increased hearing, jittery/easily scared, & most annoying of all, the heat that came with it.

though it wasn't unusual to have heat, it was definitely not something you mention in a passing conversation. heat made it hard to focus on anything except for breeding & sex. your senses are enhanced, making clothes feel itchy at all times. your train of thought always derailed to live making. that's why you were prescribed heat repressant.

no side affects & it worked like a charm.

however, this month you forgot to stock up on them, & you just so happened to run out. you would've just skipped school to get some, but it was midterms, which comes with tests & presentations that simply could not be made up. it was either fail your classes or bite the bullet.

"oi! what's your deal?" someone barked at you. ah yes, your boyfriend of six months, katsuki bakugo.

"nothing," you said with annoyance. another thing about your heat is that you get irritable because of the overwhelming feeling of needing to do a certain activity. "don't worry about it."

taken aback, katsuki reached out for you & spun you around. your eyes welled with tears of frustration & utter embarrassment, the tips of your ears were red, & every thread of your clothes made your skin crawl. "hey, what's going on?"

"i-it's nothing, just leave me alone. class is about to start." you understood how much katsuki prides himself in his academics. you're not gonna be the one to drag him down; that's not very amazing-cool-awesome girlfriend of you, after all.

he wanted to say that he didn't care & let's just ditch class, but you both knew you couldn't. the exams were too important. luckily for the both of you, the last period of the day was study hall. most kids just skip it, starting their free time early.

just a few classes, then i can go get medication, that's not bad at all, i've been through worse, you thought in attempts to calm yourself.

yeah, but imagine how could it would feel to be absolutely railed, oh fuck, imagine katsuki-

you had to cut yourself off, he was standing right beside you after all.

your relationship with katsuki has been slow, healthy, & true. the most you two have done in the span of six months is make out, grind, & grope each other clothed. both of you saw a future together so having sex didn't have to happen right then & there. if it happens, it happens, but there was no need to have it to connect.

you didn't want you first time with the love of your life to be because of your current circumstances.

"did i do something?" he asked, making your ears twitch.

"no, it's not you," you reassured, "there's nothing going on." you both entered the classroom, & you could feel katsuki's worried stare focused on you the entire time.

you took exam after exam, which, in of itself, is a long, stressful process. the bell rang throughout the school, & your classmates shuffled out of the room to go to their last period. finally, it was study hall. you threw everything into your backpack without a care. you were practically panting.

throughout the school day, the pressure building inside of you only gotten worse. you couldn't stop thinking about katsuki. his god-sent body, his perfect face, his rugged voice. god, he turned you on so much-- too much, actually.

you felt bad for ignoring all of his texts throughout the day. if you didn't, however, you had a feeling you would've sent some embarrassing messages.

as you exited your class, someone grasped your wrist, dragging you out of the school. their touch lit you on fire. you knew exactly who it was. "let me go, katsuki."

"no, not until you tell me what i did!" he growled at you. he doesn't even realize how wet i am for him-

you had to shut off your thoughts, but that's easier said than done.

"i told you already. you didn't do anything."

"well something is going on with you. tell me what's happening," he raised his voice, a vice grip still hanging onto your wrist. you were getting overstimulated & overwhelmed. once again, you couldn't help the angry tears from forming. you couldn't help but hyperfixate on your panties brushing against your sensitive clit. you couldn't help that your nipples were painfully perked.

you can't just admit that though. it's such a stupid problem to you. you felt so wrong & disgusting for thinking about sex all day. "you wouldn't understand!" you finally yelled back. "you wouldn't get it."

he didn't respond. katsuki continued to drag you throughout campus, leaving you with your thoughts.

god, i made him mad, you mentally cried out. hopefully he'll hate fuck you then-

you want to rip out your own brain & throw it on the concrete. it was a constant cycle of that the entire walk.

a few moments later, you realized you were in his dorm, sitting on his bed with him across from you in his desk chair. both of your hands were in his as he brushed his thumbs against your knuckles. that alone gave you goosebumps. "please tell me what's wrong, baby," he said in a hushed near-whimper. "i'm worried about you."

"you really wouldn't get it, katsuki," you whispered, finally letting a few tears roll down your cheek.

he placed his index finger underneath your chin. he gently raised your head, your gaze following suit. the two of you locked eyes, his swirling with worry & yours sprawling in uncertainty. "then make me understand."

"it's my stupid quirk," you exasperated. you tried coming up with ways of how to say what you want to say without scaring him off.

"what about it?" he asked.

"you have such a nice quirk, you know," you started, avoiding his question. "it's just so much flashier & cooler than mine. there's already a rabbit hero!"

"what are you talking about? you do have a cool quirk."

"i'm a bunnygirl. nothing more. people already know what to expect-"

"what is this really about? you brag all the time how you get to come up with new ways to make your quirk yours," he countered, not convinced with your answer. "there's something more, isn't there?"

katsuki was so good at reading people-- at reading you. the other times you've confided in him, your voice lacked clarity, stability. why would it be different now? it wouldn't, that's why.

"yeah, there is," you admitted, tugging on his hands so he'd get closer. "i just don't know how you'll react or how to even say it-"

"it's fine. just tell me, i won't get mad or judge you or whatever," he assured. you began to cry even more, staining his dress shirt.

he smelt so good, i can feel his muscles through his shirt, he's so sexy-

"i need you," you muttered into his chest.

"what was that, baby?"

you glanced up at him, eyes glossy, lips pouted. "i need you."

katsuki's breath hitched, "what are you talking about?" yes, he's had theories about your quirk & its drawbacks. was this it? was his theory correct?

more tears of frustration rolled down your cheeks as you tried to explained, "i have... you know."

his cock stirred, scolding himself mentally for getting hard during a time like this. "have what?" he wanted you to say it, confirm his suspicions.

you took a deep breath. "i have this thing every month or so, & it just makes things so much harder."

"tell me." his stern voice sent shockwaves through you.

it made you obey him automatically, robotically. "i'm going through heat." a silence followed. "it's normal for people with quirks like mine to go through this. i usually have repressants! & i know this probably makes you so uncomfortable; i understand if you don't want to be-"

-- nsfw starts here --

katsuki cut off your rambling, almost offended. "don't ever say that. i want you, all of you."

"p-please don't say such things," you begged him as you felt your pussy throb. "i'm r-really trying to hold back-"

"let me take care of you, princess," katsuki purred, finger tips ghosting over your exposed thighs. he buried his face into the crook of your neck. "do you want this, y/n? because i want you right now. if you tell me you don't want this, i'll stop."

all you could do is nod, your breath turning uneven.

"say it, y/n."

"i need you so bad. please, katsuki," you cried out as you rubbed your legs together.

he smirked into your neck before he started kissing your neck. you couldn't help but whimper. he noticed you holding back, so he bit your neck. he sucked hickeys all over your neck. your unsteady breathes turned into needy moans.

"t-take off my shirt, please-"

katsuki took in your demand by ripping it off your skin as if it were poison. he unhooked your bra, throwing it on the floor. "ah fuck," he groaned, cupping your breasts.

"are they o-okay?"

"you're fuckin' perfect, baby."

with one, he replaced his rough, calloused hand with his mouth. you grinder against his thigh as flicked your nipple with his tongue. "k-katsuki~"

he switched to the other one, giving it the same treatment. "all mine," he growled in between. he nipped at the skin around your nipples. your neck & chest were soon littered with purple marks & bites.

"let me touch you," you begged & you began to fidget with the buttons of his shirt. "take this off~"

"so needy, aren't you, princess," katsuki teased, yet he gave into you. he threw off his shirt, looming over you. goosebumps pricked at your skin, all over your arms down to your legs. you found yourself trailing your hands all over his abs, his muscular arms, around his back. it was like your hands had a mind of their own.

you flipped the two of you around, so now he was under you. "c-can i please mark you?"

he let out a laugh of amusement, making your face turn a deep red. "you don't have to ask, baby," he told you. as a response, you mimicked his actions from earlier. your lips kissed all over his neck, leaving marks in its wake. you trailed down to his chest, then his abs then his v-line until you reached the band of his pants.

the entire time, he was groaning, feeding you praises that shot straight through your core. when you stopped, he looked down at you, & there you were, staring back at him with eager, wide eyes. he could read you so well. "go ahead, y/n. pull them down."

to which you did. you hands hooked both his uniform pants & his boxers. you pulled them down, & your mouth watered when his cock sprung out. "i-it's so big," you moaned; you meant to only think that, but you couldn't help it.

his mushroom tip beaded precum, his veiny shaft twitched in anticipation. "you see how hard i am for you? all for you," katsuki told you, watching your eyes dart to his then back down to his cock.

you started licking him to test the waters. you saw as his eyebrows furrowed together, his mouth agape, narrowed eyes. your licks evolved into you sticking his tip into your mouth. your tongue flicked around his cock. you crossed your eyes & whined when you tasted his precum. thanks to his quirk, it tasted almost sweet, salty, & god, was it addicting.

you bobbed your head up & down his thick rod. the tip hit the back of your throat while spit flooded your mouth. it was hard to breath, but you didn't care. having katsuki inside of you was more important than breathing. "slow down. you're gonna make me cum, good girl."

that was enough inspiration for you. you needed his cum. you forced your head all the way down his cock, your nose buried in his pubes. your eyes watered (for the fifth time today), & you stared into katsuki's eyes. both of his hands tangled themselves into your hair. "i'm gonna fuck that slutty, little throat, okay? just tap if it's too much," he informed, but he had a feeling you were going let him do whatever he wanted.

you moaned as a way to let him know that you heard him. the vibrations quivered his tip. "mmm, fuck. you're doing so good," he praised, jutting his hips forward the drawing them back.

his thrusts at first were small, in fear he was hurting you. however, as he looked down at you, your eyes rolled back, drool spilling out of your mouth, rubbing your aching clit for some sort of release, he couldn't hold back. he started using your throat as a fuck toy.

fast & rough, & all you could do was take it. take it, even though you're crying & it's hard to breath. "i'm close," he uttered out in between moans. his sultry voice turned a pitch higher in a humiliating tease, "you want my cum, baby? huh? c'mon, tell me you want it."

you choked out muffled, "yes please" & "cum down my throat please." he laughed at you trying to form sentences with your mouth stuffed. "such an eager bitch. fine, i'll give you what you want."

he thrusted his hips forwards, keeping your head in place. you face smushed against his hips. his cock twitched as he unloaded spurts of cum down your throat.

he pulled away, & strings of saliva mixed with his semen leaked onto your skirt. you looked back up at him, finding his cock still erect. "you look so surprised," katsuki said as he caught his breath. "i'm still so hard for you. after all, i told you i was going to take care of you."

"p-please have sex with me," you barely even whispered.

"what was that?"

"please-"

"i still can't hear you," katsuki told you, stroking his dick. he really knew how to push your buttons

"please fuck me, katsuki! i need it, i need you so bad~ i need your big cock inside of me," you blurted out. you finally let you stupid, nasty fantasies get the better of you.

judging from katsuki's smug expression, he wanted you to indulge in them. "alright, alright. you've been such a good girl for me. it's the least i could do," he shrugged before flipping you over so you were trapped under him. even in your most intimate moments, he was cocky. & god, did it make your pussy wet.

as he started to pull your skirt down, your hands shot to grab his wrists. "no, fuck me now, i can't wait. it hurts too bad," you whined, your glossy lips pouting.

"of course, princess," he said with a smirk. "whatever you want." katsuki's fingers dove under your skirt to push your panties out of the way. he held your legs up, placing your calves over his shoulders.

he lubed the tip of his dick with your juices by running it through your folds. "you're so wet for me, good girl."

"it's all for you, katsuki~" you purred, anticipation practically killing you. you felt pride as he turned his head to kiss the meat of your calf in approval.

"can't let it go to waste," he told you. he lined his thick, heavy cock with your entrance. something must've taken over you because, the moment it lined up with your hole, you shoved your hips forward with your entire body.

you let out a squeal of pleasure, your pussy stretching to accommodate for katsuki's lengthy cock. "shit, baby, you almost knocked me over," he chuckled as he readjusted. both of his hands were on your hips.

"shut up & fuck me," you growled at him. his cock twitched, brow raised in amusement.

"yes ma'am," he replied, "but remember you said that." from the get-go, his thrusts were powerful, immediately finding the cervix. your nails dug into his biceps down to his wrists. moans, whimpers, & screams spilled out of your lips.

katsuki took his fingers to your mouth & demanded in a low voice, "suck."

the action made you quiet down. he found your g-spot soon after, & you felt lightheaded. with his fingers down your throat, his cock abusing your most sensitive spot, & katsuki whispering dirty nothings into your ears, you shut your eyes & released all the tension building up.

"f-f-fuck, i-i'm cumming, katsuki," you rasped, voice having a small lisp thanks to his fingers. you squirted all over his abdomen, breath heavy & uneven.

he didn't stop though. he still rammed his big fuckin' dick in & out of you, not letting you calm down from your euphoric high. in fact, his hand that you slobbered all over found their way to your clit. he drew small circles around it. "ah, katsuki!" you moaned. "it's too much!"

"you'll be a good girl, & take it, won't you? i haven't cum inside you yet," he responded while his other hand pinched your nipples.

"i-i-i'll be a good girl, katsuki~" you slurred, speaking on beat with his thrusts. he made you cum three more times then you felt as his hips became more robotic, shorter, uncalculated.

"i'm cumming," he groaned through gritted teeth. "i'm cumming. fuckin' take all of it." thick jets of hot, white cum stained your walls. his dick pulsated inside of you. you came again; who could blame you?

he took a few deep breaths, collapsing on top of you as he pulled out of your pussy. cum spilled out of you & onto his sheets. he embraced you, whispering, "round two?"

[aemondloverr]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡

𝐩𝐭. 𝐈𝐈

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐕𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 • 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑 • 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 • 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Upon your arrival, Cregan sees to it that you are comfortable in Winterfell and a deal is struck.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: A sassy Jace and a Reader in denial of her feelings. Tiny bit of angst at the end

𝐰𝐜: 5.5k

𝐀/𝐍: I told yall I would drop again soonnn (had 4.3k words and decided to write 1.2k more smh.) And Ya'll. When you sign up for the taglist, PLEASE. PUT YOU USERNAME!! 😭 Some of you guys are just putting yes or no. I won't be able to tag you because I won't know how you are!!

❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆

𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐩: The entire family watches as you and Silverwing take flight, the dragon's wings beating strongly as you soar into the black sky.

A sense of melancholy hangs in the air, the weight of your absence already palpable among those left behind. Rhaenyra's expression is solemn as she watches you disappear into the distance, a silent prayer on her lips for your safe return.

❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆

As Silverwing flies through the night sky, you catch a glimpse of another dragon in the distance. You instantly recognize the familiar shape and color as none other than Vermax. He appears to be flying in the same direction as you and is rapidly catching up.

You signal Silverwing to land

Silverwing, sensing your command, begins to reduce her speed and descend towards the ground. She lands gracefully on the soft earth, her wings beating powerfully to ease the impact of touchdown. The moment you dismount, you see Jace jumping off Vermax and hurrying towards you.

“Jace what the fuck are you doing??”

Jace approaches you quickly, his expression serious as he stops in front of you. He takes a moment to catch his breath, running a hand through his messy hair

"What do you think I'm doing? You didn't seriously think I would let you go to Winterfell alone, did you?"

“Mother said-”

Jace cuts you off, his frustration clear in his voice "I know what mother said. But I'm not letting you go on this trip alone, especially not with...him there. I'm coming with you, whether you like it or not."

You roll your eyes at his stubbornness and he rolls his own right back.

"Don't give me that look. You know I'm right. You need me there, whether you want to admit it or not."

“Why do you have to be so difficult. Ugh.”

Jace gives you a cocky grin, his usual playful demeanor resurfacing.

"Because someone needs to be the voice of reason and it clearly won't be you given your emotional state at the moment."

You scoff and get back onto Silverwings’ saddle.

He lets out a huff of laughter, shaking his head becausehe knows he's annoyed you. He hops back onto Vermax, the dragon flapping his wings impatiently, eager to take flight again.

"Ready to keep going, hotheaded?" he yells and you reply with a warning

“Mother will skin you when we get back; I hope you know that!”

He laughs, unbothered by your threat

"I'm sure I'll survive. Besides, it'll be worth it when I get to say I told you so."

Silverwing begins to beat her wings, preparing to take off once again. Jace clearly enjoys the opportunity to rile you up, as brothers always do.

❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆

3 and a half days later

“DRAGONS!!” The guards bellow out a startled shout, prompting several other guards and castle folk to rush out into the courtyard to see what the commotion is.

As Silverwing and Vermax touch down on the cold, snowy landing outside Winterfell, you and Jace dismount, your breaths visible in the crisp, cold air. The castle looms above you, its massive walls and towers covered in a thick layer of snow. The sound of voices and activity can be heard from inside the castle, signaling the busy life of the northern capital.

The cold wind beats against you both, it’s chill uncomfortable and unfamiliar.

Approaching the wall, the townsfolk and guards murmur among themselves as you and Jace come into view, their eyes wide with a mixture of fear and awe. You can hear them whispering as they catch glimpses of the mighty dragons resting in the clearing behind you. The guards at the main gate watch you as you approach, their hands gripping their hilts of their swords tightly.

“This is the eldest Princess and Prince of the realm, children of Queen Rhaenyra. We are to meet with Lord Stark” you call out.

The guards exchange glances with one another, clearly uncertain how to respond. One of them steps forward, his gaze flicking nervously between you and the dragons behind you.

"You're here to meet with Lord Stark, you say?"

“Indeed. He had been made aware of our coming.”

The guard nods slowly, still appearing rather nervous in the presence of the dragons. He clears his throat and calls out to another guard standing further back

"Open the gates! The Princess and Prince are here!”

As the gates creek open, down comes Cregan Stark, marching towards you through the crowd of townspeople flanked on either side by a few of his trusted retainers. A cloak of wolf fur is draped over his shoulders, and his expression is stoic as ever. He stops about a few feet away from you, his grey eyes taking in the sight of the dragons behind you in the far clearing.

Your breath catches in your throat and your heart races. You thought you were ready to see him again but clearly, that was not the case.

Cregan's expression remains stoic as he gazes at you, his eyes searching your face intently. He takes in the sight of you standing there, a mixture of emotions flickering briefly in his steel grey eyes. For a moment, the two of you stand there, silently staring at one another, neither of you breaking the tense silence that has fallen over the courtyard.

You observe each other with looks of familiarity. You still remember quite clearly how he looked at 5 and 10 and it definitely wasn’t anything like now.

Before, he was the same height as you, short red-brown hair and soft features. He had the sweetest smile you’d ever seen. It was almost like you could feel the warmth of his happiness.

Now, there is no warmth. His expressions show very little emotion and he’s at least a foot taller than you. His hair has grown out to his shoulders and it still has that pretty red-brown color to it.

He continues to scrutinize you, his eyes roaming over your figure. He does not speak, but his gaze betrays his thoughts.

It's clear that he too is caught off guard by the encounter, memories of your childhood together flooding his mind.

You incline your head in recognition and respect.

“Lord stark.”

"Princess,"

He nods in return, his expression guarded but polite.

He briefly glances at Jace, then back at you, clearly noting the presence of your companion.

You tap Jaces hand to get him to be respectful.

Jace, who has been watching the exchange with annoyance, follows your unspoken order. He steps forward and gives a brief, stiff bow to Lord Stark.

"Lord Stark," he greets in a cool tone, his expression betraying his reluctance to show proper respect.

What a great start to an alliance. Good one Jace.

Cregan raises an eyebrow at Jace's impolite behavior, but he remains impassive as he regards him. He turns his attention back to you, his gaze flicking over your figure once more before he speaks.

"I trust you had a safe journey?"

“Aye. We did.”

He takes a step back, gesturing towards the entrance to Winterfell.

"You must be weary from the journey. I will have my men take you to your chambers for you to rest. We can converse when you have freshened up and settled in."

“Thank you.”

Cregan nods once more, then turns and gives a brief command to a few of the retainers standing nearby. The retainers step forward and begin to usher you and Jace towards the castle. Cregan falls in behind them, still observing you intently, his expression inscrutable as ever.

You speak to Jace in high Valyrian

Jace glances at you as you address him, his brow furrowing slightly. He responds in the same language, his voice low so only you can hear. "He's still as cold and stoic as ever. This should be fun."

“It was rude of you to do what you did, ignoring him like that.”

Jace rolls his eyes, a hint of irritation in his voice

"It wasn't rude. It was the truth. He acts like a block of ice, even towards royalty."

“Jacaerys.” You demand sternly

Jace holds his hands up defensively, his expression contrite. "Alright, alright, I'll stop. But you can't deny that you were practically fawning over Lord Stark."

“I was not. It was rude of you not to greet him like that after sneaking all this way with me. It would be a shame to send you home when you’ve only just arrived, wouldn’t it.” You threaten.

"Fine, I get it I get it I'll be polite. But only for you. Not for him."

“That’s not how this works-”

Jace cuts you off with a dismissive wave of his hand "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'll behave myself. I promise. Can you just stop nagging me for ten minutes now, please?"

“Shall I send raven to mother right now?”

"No, no, no. That won't be necessary. I said I'd behave. I'll be the perfect image of etiquette, I swear it."

“Good then.”

Jace sighs, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He gives you a weary look, accepting that he has no choice but to play nice.

"I'll be on my best behavior. No more rude quips or comments. I'll treat Lord Stark like he's the most charming, most handsome man in all of Westeros. Happy now?"

You just scoff in response.

Jace rolls his eyes, clearly not pleased by your response "Gods, you're impossible to please. I make the grand gesture to accompany you all this way and you're still annoyed with me. I can't win, can I?"

Cregan, who has been quietly listening to the exchange between you and Jace, raises an eyebrow at your bickering. A hint of curiosity flickers in his eyes as he hears the rapid exchange of words in High Valyrian. It's clear that he's wondering what you're discussing that has you so riled up.

Jace has nothing more to say, pouting as you’re lead to where you’ll both stay.

At last, you reach the Great Keep and up a spiral staircase to the guest wing. They escort you to two adjacent rooms, each furnished with comfortable beds, warm furs, and a fireplace to keep away the winter chill. Servants are already inside the rooms, laying out towels and filling a tub of hot water for you to bathe.

“This is much appreciated, especially after our long journey.” You thank Cregan but Jace just goes straight to his room, shutting the door behind him.

He waits a moment, as if considering what to say, before finally speaking in his deep, gruff voice.

"Is your brother always so...irritable?"

“I’m sure you remember.”

A slight smile tugs at the corners of Cregan's lips as he hears your comment. He nods slowly, his eyes still locked onto yours.

There’s that warm smile of his

"Aye, I do remember. Though he seems to be even more ornery than I recall."

“He’s quite the trouble. The older he gets, the more impolite and out of line.”

His eyes widen as he nods in agreement, his expression taking on a slightly amused cast.

"It seems so. But he is certainly loyal, I'll give him that much."

“Well it's clear he never liked you, that's for sure.”

Cregan raises an eyebrow at your statement, his gaze flickering with curiosity. He crosses his arms and leans against the wall, his voice taking on a more serious tone.

"Oh? And why is that, pray tell?"

“Because you stole me away from him. I stopped playing with him everytime you visited King’s Landing.”

"Ah, so he's jealous, is he? I wondered if that was the cause of his animosity towards me."

“Speaking of Jace…I mean to talk with you quickly…”

You’d wanted to ask him if he could keep your brother in Winterfell but with the way Jace is behaving, he might just ruin it for himself.

The corners of Cregan's lips twitch into a smile at your words, his gaze still fixed on you. He nods, gesturing towards your chambers.

"Very well. Let us talk somewhere more private then, shall we?"

“No need.”

He raises an eyebrow at your response, his expression turning curious as he studies your face. He tilts his head slightly

"Oh? You wish to talk here? In the corridor? Are you not concerned about your brother and his listening in?"

“Well…I suppose you’re right.”

Cregan nods in agreement, a hint of a smirk on his face. He pushes himself off the wall and takes a step towards your chambers.

"Aye, I thought so. Come, then."

He gestures for you to lead the way into your room.

You push open the doors of your chambers. The room smells of your favorite flowers.

He remembered.

You smile silently but briefly to yourself at the flowers on the bedside as for him to not notice.

Cregan notices your brief smile anyways, but he does not comment on it. He walks over to the window, peering out into the snowy landscape outside. The moonlight in the darkening sky casts a silvery sheen upon the snow-covered ground, making everything look almost ethereal. He lets out a soft hum, his gaze still fixed on the outside before he speaks.

"It's a clear night tonight.”

You shiver, still cold although already inside. It was somehow colder in your chambers than the halls. Maybe it was because of the windows. You’d greatly underestimated the cold of Winterfell and now, you were suffering for it. “A-aye…”

Cregan notices the shiver that runs through you, his gaze lingering for a moment. He frowns slightly, concern evident in his eyes, even through his usual stoic demeanor.

"Are you cold? Here, come closer to the fire."

He gestures for you to come nearer to the fireplace and you step closer. He feeds the dying fire more wood in order to warm the room faster, moving to stand beside you, his figure casting a long shadow over yours as the firelight dances upon your features.

"Better?" he asks, voice soft and low.

You nod in response and he hums softly, eyes still fixed on you. He studies you for a moment, taking in your chattering teeth and trembling form.

"You're still shivering. Here, let me..."

Without warning, he reaches out and gently grabs hold of your hand, his fingers wrapping around yours.

“It would be a bother-“

He cuts you off with a shake of his head, hand tightening around yours. His voice is firm but gentle as he speaks.

"It's no bother at all. I won't have you freezing to death while you're under my roof."

He gently pulls you closer to him, guiding you to stand right in front of the fireplace. He keeps his hand wrapped around yours, his grip firm yet careful.

"Now, hold on.”

He takes a few moments to remove his cloak, which he drapes around your shoulders. The cloak is made of thick wool and lined with softer furs, making it warm and comfortable to wear. The garment is much too large for you, but it immediately envelops you, trapping the warmth of the fire between the layers of fabric. He stands silently next you, his hand still wrapped around yours, as if to ensure your body heat stays trapped within the cloak.

“I like this…This is nice.” The coat of course. Not his company. In any way. At all.

Cregan smiles slightly in response to your words, his grip on your hand tightening imperceptibly. He gazes down at you, studying your face as you huddle within the warmth of his cloak, a flicker of something warm passing through his grey eyes.

"Good. I'm glad.”

He rubs small circles on the back of your hand with his thumb, his touch gentle and soothing as he keeps you close to the fire.

You can’t help but feel a flutter in your heart at the kind gestures and he can’t help but get butterflies, seeing you in his large furs.

Cregan continues to watch you silently, his gaze lingering on your slightly flushed cheeks and the way his cloak envelopes your body. With each passing moment, a sense of protectiveness and possessiveness begins to rise within him, though he keeps it well-hidden behind his stoic expression. His thumb continues to rub gentle circles on your hand, the gesture becoming almost subconscious at this point.

You pull your hand away and clear your throat. This is inappropriate. You shouldn’t be allowing him to get so close like this. Yet here you are.

He frowns slightly, feeling the loss of your warmth as you withdraw. He glances down at you with a hint of confusion in his eyes, wondering if he may have overstepped some invisible boundary. His gaze flickers down to his cloak, wrapped tightly around your shoulders, an unconscious reminder of his desire to keep you close and warm.

“Are you feeling warmer now?”

“Yes…Thank you”

A hint of relief crosses over Cregan's face at your answer, and he nods silently. Despite the return of the usual distance between you, there's a noticeable hint of reluctance in his gaze, as if he wishes to pull you closer again. He takes a step back, shoving his hands into his pockets, his voice is quiet as he speaks.

"You're always welcome."

The silence between you hangs heavy in the air, charged with unspoken words and lingering tension. Cregan stands facing you, his gaze fixed on your face. The dance of the fire casts shadows across his features, emphasizing the hard set of his jaw and the intensity in his eyes. He opens his mouth to speak, but hesitates, seeming to think better of whatever he was about to say. The silence hangs between you for a beat longer before he finally does.

"You said you wished to talk, didn't you?"

“I need a favor. Well not so much a favor but…”

Cregan raises an eyebrow at your words, curiosity etched on his face.

"Go on,” he prompts.

“My mother will soon be sending a raven.”

"A...raven? What for…?"

“She'll want you to send Jace back to dragonstone”

Cregan lets out a scoff, his gaze flicking around the room before settling on you again.

"She wants me to send him back to Dragonstone? Why?”

“He wasn’t supposed to be here. Mother forbade him from coming with me so he decided to be a half wit and sneak out to ‘protect’ me” You roll your eyes just thinking back to his rebellious flee.

He shakes his head at Jace’s stubbornness and crosses his arms.

"He really never does like to listen to anyone, does he?"

“She’ll surely skin him”

She really might.

"Aye, I can imagine she would be quite displeased to find out he defied her orders. He's really dug himself a deep hole this time."

“Well that’s why I need you to ignore the message…”

"Ignore the message? Are you serious? You want me to ignore your mother's command to send your brother home?"

“Just… don’t worry about it. And if you get in trouble. I’ll vouch for you”

Cregan looks deeply conflicted, his brow creasing as he processes your request. He crosses his arms, his eyes studying your face intently.

"The Queen herself? And you think your word can protect me if it gets out that I disobeyed her?"

“I am her eldest. Besides, It’s nothing you haven’t done already.” You cross your arms, hinting about when you were children.

He rolls his eyes at your remark, clearly understanding the reference.

"Aye, fair point. I suppose I have disobeyed a few royal orders back then. But this is different. We aren't children anymore."

You didn’t want to have to resort to this but you’re almost begging.

"I know this but can't you just do it for my sake? As much as I hate to admit it, I need my brother here." You take his hand once again.

Cregan flinches slightly at the sudden contact of your hand in his, his gaze immediately looking down to where your fingers are intertwined together.

There's a momentary flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, his stoic expression faltering for a brief moment. Your words, spoken with such earnestness and conviction, tug at his heartstrings, and he can't deny the plea in your eyes.

He sighs deeply, a mixture of reluctance and resignation crossing his features. However, as his gaze falls upon your desperate expression, his will crumbles, and he nods.

"Fine…I’ll do it for you."

“Thank you..good. I'll swipe the message before it even reaches your solar. And if she asks you, you won't be lying because you’d not have received it and you’d not have even laid your eyes upon it”.

"Aye, but I have one condition."

Oh gods. It can never be straightforward with him can it?

“And what'll that be?…”

"Your brother will have to be respectful and obey my commands. No more of his sharp tongue or disobedience. I’ll not have him questioning my authority in my own castle. I don’t want any more unnecessary headaches because of that boy."

Cregan takes a step closer to you, his figure towering slightly over you, his gaze fixed solely on your face. His voice is low and quiet, a hint of warning.

Despite your doubts for Jace’s good behavior, you agree

“Easy. Done.”

You mean easier said than done?

Herein lies the problem. How is Jace to do that? He’ll never give up his snarky remarks. Sure maybe temporarily, but not forever. He can’t go long without saying something out of pocket.

Cregan nods in approval, a flicker of satisfaction in his grey eyes.

"and.."

Of course there's more.

"...you give me something in return” He finishes, his voice firm but gentle at the same time. His gaze bores into yours, searching for a hint of protest in your eyes but not letting go of your hand just yet. He continues to study you with intense eyes.

“Which is…?”

"Your company. Everyday."

Fuck.

“What?”

This is the last thing you’d expect and the last thing you wanted to happen. Getting over him does not include spending MORE time with him.

Cregan's gaze is steady on you, his voice still holding a slight gruffness.

"I want your company. I want you by my side. I want you to accompany me to my meetings, to dine with me, to walk with me, to simply…be with me.”

You chuckle nervously in disbelief “Everyday? It is a jest, surely? You cannot expect to-”

Cregan cuts you off, his voice a quiet but firm interruption. His gaze remains steady and intent, his expression serious as he responds.

“Not a jest. I expect you to keep me company. Not all your time, I’m not unreasonable, but a fair share of it. That is my price. Take it or leave it.”

“…And if I refuse?”

An unreadable expression crosses over Cregan’s face at your question. His grip on your hand tightens almost instinctively, like he’s afraid you might pull away. A hint of vulnerability flashes in his eyes, hidden behind a stoic mask, as he responds.

“You won’t refuse…but if you do…then the deal is off and your brother has to leave.”

Using blackmail to spend more time with you is low, even for him.

You ponder for a minute, weighing the decisions and he watches closely as he waits patiently for your response.

“So… blackmail is how you get what you want”

He sighs, letting go of your hand as he takes a step back, creating some distance between you.

"Not blackmail. Incentive." he grumbles in irritation. He crosses his arms, his gaze hardening as he responds.

"I’m not a liar or an oath breaker. You want me to do you a favor? Then I’ll do it. But I’m allowed to have something in return, aren’t I?"

“Fine.”

“Perfect. Then it’s settled. Tomorrow, you will spend the day with me.”

“Now” you sigh and turn your back “I’d like to take a bath now so if it please you…” you give a shooing motion.

Cregan nods, a slight hint of amusement in his eyes as he gazes at your back. He watches for a moment longer before relenting.

“Very well, you may bathe. I have matters to attend to anyway.”

He really doesn’t. He just wanted your company.

He turns towards the door, his hand on the handle as he glances back at you over his shoulder.

“I assume I will see you at supper tonight?”

“No you will not.”

He pauses at your statement, his hand dropping from the door handle. He turns back towards you, his expression slightly surprised by your adamant response.

“No? And may I ask why not?”

“I wish to retire after my bath so you may send for my supper. I will not come down. It’s been long since I slept well.”

He considers your words for a moment, his eyes studying your face intently, his tone slightly reluctant.

"Very well, I suppose you need to rest. But I expect to see you at breakfast on the morrow. We have a few matters to discuss.”

“Aye.”

Cregan gives you a small nod of agreement, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he finally turns to exit your your chambers, muttering something under his breath.

“Bloody stubborn girl.”

The door closes softly behind him.

“I heard that!!”

"Intended it to be heard!" he calls back from the hall, his voice tinged with playful sarcasm.

The room is quiet for a few moments after, the only sound coming from the crackling fire in the fireplace. The stillness is interrupted only by a soft knock on the door, followed by the voices of the servants as they bring in soaps, oils, and towels for the bath.

Every interaction with Cregan just melts at your resolve. You can’t avoid him. He’s made sure of that.

Despite your best efforts, you find yourself struggling to maintain that familiar disdain for him. Somewhere along the line, your feelings towards him have grown more complicated and nuanced.

You continue about your routine, undressing and slowly sinking into the warm water of the bath. As you relax into the tub, you let your mind wander once again, and the memories of your past with Cregan flood your mind. The old feelings of friendship and affection for him bubble to the surface, but you quickly push them down as you remind yourself of what he did.

The maids carefully and meticulously wash your hair, gently massaging the soap into the strands and rinsing it clean. Their touch is soothing as they work, their hands gliding through your locks with practiced ease. The warm water of the bath gently laps against your skin, providing a relaxing contrast to the maids' gentle touch.

You let yourself sink deeper into the tub, the warm water enveloping your body and easing the tension in your muscles. The heat of the water soothes your tired limbs, and the comforting scent of the bath oils swirl around you as they float on the surface. The maids gently massage a soft cloth over your skin, helping you clean and relax even further.

They tend to your arms, legs, and rest of your body, scrubbing all of the dirt and grime away.

After you are thoroughly rinsed, they help you stand and step out of the tub, warm water dripping down your body. One of the maids wraps a drying cloth around your hair, while the other sets out a soft and lightweight silken robe for you to slip into.

“Thank you for your assistance girls.”

The maids nod graciously at your appreciation, their work complete.

"You're welcome, Princess. Is there anything else you need before we take our leave?"

“What be your names?”

"I'm Martha." One says, the tall, brunette maid.

"And I'm Sara." The second maid replies, a soft-spoken blonde with an equally soft face.

“Goodnight, Martha and Sara”

The maids curtsy together as they reply.

"Good night, Princess."

With that, they gather their materials and exit your chambers, leaving you alone in the quiet room once again.

Once you’re done drying yourself off, you put on your silken robe, exiting the bathing room.

As if on cue, there is a knock at the door, followed by Cregan’s voice on the other side.

"Are you decent?"

“Just a moment.”

You cross the room to the bed, your steps quiet on the soft carpet. As you go through the wardrobe, you select a soft and lightweight night shift made of fine silk. You slip it over your head, the fabric feeling cool against your skin and falls just above your knees.

“You may enter.”

Cregan pushes open the door and enters, his eyes scanning the room, almost instinctively searching for your presence. A hint of surprise flickers across his face as he spots you, dressed in a simple nightgown with the fire burning bright behind you.

“I see you come bearing gifts.”

Cregan quirks a smile at your words, holding up a tray of food as he responds.

"As promised. I wanted to make sure you had something to eat before you retire.”

He walks over and sets the tray down on the table near the window, the dishes and cutlery clinking faintly as he places them down.

You do quickly to dismiss him. He’s been around you long enough today.

“Right…Thank you. Goodnight then.”

Cregan pauses, confusion and disappointment crossing his features as you promptly dismiss him. He stands there for a moment, shifting on his feet, as he stares across the room at your form.

"That’s it? I bring you dinner and just like that I’m dismissed?"

Well that backfired.

“What do you want, a piece of my bread?”

“No. I don’t want your bloody bread. I was just….”

he trails off, his expression clouding slightly, as if he suddenly can’t find the words he’s looking for to articulate his thoughts.

He takes a moment, gazing at you, taking in your form by the light of the fire. A hint of vulnerability seeps into his expression, his words suddenly turning quiet and unexpected.

"I was just trying to... spend some more time with you."

“You said that starts tomorrow. Not today.”

He lets out an exasperated sigh, his eyes fixed on your face, his expression mingling with a hint of irritation and stubbornness.

"Aye, the deal we made says tomorrow. But I don’t see why I can’t spend some time with you right now. Why are you so adamant to get rid of me?"

“I’m just tired. And I don’t need this right now”

An excuse.

"You don’t need what? My company? Or is it something about my presence you find so intolerable, Princess?”

You raise you voice at him. “Just stop okay. Stop. I said I was tired and you're acting like a petulant child. I just- I want to be alone.”

The stubborn look in his eyes falters, replaced by a flicker of hurt that he tries to hide behind a stoic mask. But it’s ther for a brief moment. Your words hit a nerve, and he falters for just a second, before his expression hardens once again.

"Petulant? Just trying to spend some time with you, and you’re ready to kick me out as if I’m some lowly servant."

“That was not my intention. But now is not the time to spend time with me-” you try and defuse the situation by apologizing but to no avail.

Cregan lets out a scoff and wounded pride with a reluctant understanding flashes in his eyes.

"Then when is the time? Tomorrow? When do you feel like dealing with me?"

“Yes. Tomorrow. Because that’s when you said.”

He grits his teeth, his jaw tensing as he struggles to hold back a biting reply. Clearly, he’s not too happy about your decision to push him away.

"Fine. Tomorrow it is then." he mutters under his breath, the reluctance in his tone clear. He storms out, shutting the door loudly.

You distanced yourself, like you wanted…but at what cost? You can’t help but feel bad at your blunt words. You feel like you hurt him.

Despite his tough demeanor, Cregan's heart is soft and sensitive, and he's far more emotional than he lets on. Your harsh words, even if unintentionally, have obviously affected him, leaving him confused. He wants to understand why you're pushing him away, why you're being so distant with him.

You don't want to fall back into old patterns, let alone complicate your current situation. It hurt you to hurt him the way you did but you have to be strong...and yet, deep down, something inside you yearns for the familiarity of his presence, the warmth of his smile, the feel of his touch…

*****

You lift the lid of the food he brought and your eyes land on a small piece of paper tucked among the food. It's a note, penned in a neat and familiar handwriting. The ink is dark, the words written with a strong and decisive hand.

As you read the words, you can almost hear Cregan's voice in your mind, the deep timbre of his tone echoing in your ears.

It reads:

"I hope the food is to your liking. Sleep well, princess..."

C.

A note so kind yet you were so cruel.

Tonight was not a night you slept soundly, but rather, a night you pondered your words.

❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆

𝐀/𝐍

Bro why does it feel like I’m writing a whole lotta nothing…😭 Cregan barely does anything in this one but pt.4 gets good. I’m still cooking. And next chapter is gonna be deliciousss.

PS. YES. Their childhood will be in the story, probably pt.3 or 4. Still deciding which one because I don’t want the chapter to be more than 6k. (You guys should read the comments for some previews on the next chapter and sign up for the taglistt 😘)

@beebeechaos @iv-vee @aemondwhoresworld @obscure-beauty @cregansfourthwife @6ternalsun @msmarvelknight @melsunshine @littlebirdgot @kingdomzeldaquest @squidscottjeans

[paarksunghoon]

you plus me (teaser)

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 must be crashing round you. one misunderstanding and one trip later makes heeseung re-evaluate all he knows, and it makes you believe that there might life after love.

PAIRING: heeseung x fem!reader (featuring enhypen)

WORD COUNT: no estimate because who really knows but this baby sits at 28K right now. the teaser stands at 2.7K.

NOTES: usually I don’t post teasers but I’m so proud of this story so why not!!!!!! I don’t think I’m going to open a taglist but that could change. I’ll let you know if I do. :) hoping to publish by October 26! thanks for reading!! xx

GENRE: angst + fluff + smut

edit: it’s out!

***

“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 learned 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 had 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) and 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 makes 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 I.” 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. 

***

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