#and like. for good reason i mean look at him

[trekbec82]

I've lived in Australia my whole life (42 years and counting), and my own gallbladder caused me more pain and suffering than any of our wildlife ever has.

It's really simple if you follow the number one rule of not being a fucking dumbass - if you leave it alone, it will (generally) leave you alone. There are some exceptions to that, but you should still be leaving them the fuck alone, just from further away - unless you're trained and know what you're doing, and are doing it for a good reason, like science.

On a related note, I fucking despise the phrasing "shark infested waters" and "croc infested waters" - that's their home, those waters are human-infested. If you don't want sharks or crocs having a nibble on your flesh, stay out of their house!

Also you should do a first aid course, because knowing what to do if shit goes sideways can save a life. Whether that's bites, stings, drowning, heatstroke, car accidents, or your kid falling out of a tree when trying to see a koala better. Get your first aid certificate!

Getting back to positives though, there's some absolutely stunning landscapes to consider, and I don't just mean the beaches and rainforests (we have both tropical and temperate). Central Australia is made up of several distinct deserts, which are home to both unique biodiversity not found elsewhere on the planet, and people (though not many of those, according to census data). It's not empty - it's just not full in the way cities are, and that's a good thing!

I remember twenty-ish years ago, an American (now former) friend suggested we build desalination plants around the coast, and use ocean water to irrigate Central Australia to make it "habitable". It's! Not! Fucking! Empty! And even if it was, how much damage would it do to the Great Barrier Reef, and other ocean life, to take that amount of water? I shit you not, if I could have strangled him through my dial-up internet connection, he'd be dead and I'd be a convict like some of my ancestors.

Do most people live within 100km of the coast? You bet. But sparsely populated isn't empty. Different isn't necessarily deadly. And when it is, it's probably because you fucked around and now you're finding out. That's on you.

(Did I just realise I barely mentioned the adorable marsupials? Yes. But everyone knows about the adorable marsupials, and if you don't, consider this your cue to go look them up. Also apologies for how rambly this is I just noticed it's 3am.)

I went to an exhibition on the history of migration and colonial rhetoric in Australia and it really helped me to pinpoint my exact issue with the way non-Australians (and. tbh. some aussies) talk about this country

this map is a piece of propaganda from 1921. honestly what shocked me about it was how little of Australia is marked out as “uninhabited”. I have seen maps shared around on this website that basically mark out the entirety of non-coastal Australia as “empty”. fucking colonialists from 1921 were more generous than some of you

the history of colonial Australia is a history of “taming the untameable land”. this has been reinforced through narratives that this country is:

inherently dangerous

uninhabitable

empty

this rhetoric survives in both the way Australia is imagined by non-Australians and in the self-image of Australia. the (white) aussie battler conquers the unconquerable. the outback is imagined as a post-apocalyptic hellscape. our fauna is categorised as uniquely hellish and unwieldy. so when non-Australians make joke after joke about how scared they are of this place. well you can imagine why it fills me with the kind of rage that can only be generated by the understanding that You Are Reinforcing Colonialism

[solxamber]

Receiving Gifts on White Day with: Octavinelle

go here for other dorms

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul stands at your doorstep, posture straight as a business presentation, but his grip on the gift box absolutely betrays him. His fingers twitch. His smile is a little too composed.

“Ahem.” He clears his throat. Twice. “As per tradition, I have prepared a gift of equal or greater value to your Valentine’s gift.”

You take the box, flipping it open to reveal mini pastries that are so meticulously crafted they look like they belong in a luxury boutique. You pick one up, noting the suspiciously perfect sheen.

“These are definitely stress-baked,” you say, popping one into your mouth.

Azul immediately tenses. “That is unfounded speculation!”

You hum, pretending to consider. “So you didn’t spend the past week in an existential baking crisis?”

“…That is beside the point.”

Your grin only widens. “Azul, these are incredible.” You take another bite, watching as he visibly tries to suppress a proud smile.

Then, because you love chaos, you lean in and murmur, “I might have to make a contract for more of these.”

Critical hit.

Azul chokes on air. “E-Excuse me!?”

You smirk, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before stepping back. “Happy White Day, Azul~”

His glasses almost slip off. His brain? Outsourced to the Coral Sea.

Jade Leech

Jade stands at your door, perfectly composed, a gift box in one hand and a very unreadable smile on his face. It’s the kind of smile that means danger.

“Good morning,” he says smoothly. “I trust you slept well?”

You eye the box. This feels like a trap.

“…Should I be worried?” you ask, taking it from him with caution.

His smile widens just slightly. “Why, I’m wounded. Have I ever given you reason to doubt me?”

“Yes.”

He chuckles.

You open the box—and pause. Inside are handmade chocolates, but nestled beneath them is something that looks suspiciously like—

“…Jade.” You lift the item. “Is this one of your mushrooms?”

His expression does not change. “I can assure you, it is entirely safe.”

You squint. “What kind of safe?”

“The delicious kind,” he answers, completely unhelpful.

You glance at the chocolates. Then back at him. “If I eat this and start hearing colors that don’t exist, I’m coming for you.”

Jade simply laughs, amused. “How delightful.”

You sigh, deciding to just take a chocolate for now. The moment you taste it, your eyes widen.

“Jade. These are amazing.”

He tilts his head. “Oh? I’m pleased to hear that.”

“No, like actually amazing. Did you study chocolate-making?”

Jade hums. “Perhaps. I may have… consulted a few books.”

You stare at him. “You studied for this?”

A pause. Then, softly, “I wanted them to be perfect for you.”

Oh. Oh no.

You weren’t prepared for that.

Then—before you can react—Jade leans in, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to your temple.

“I trust that is an acceptable return gift?” he murmurs, right by your ear.

….You are absolutely doomed.

Floyd Leech

Your door explodes open.

“SHRIMPYYYYY~!”

Before you can process your impending doom, Floyd lunges and bodyslams you into a hug. Your feet leave the ground. The world spins. Your life flashes before your eyes.

“Floyd—!”

“HAPPY WHITE DAY!” he yells, grinning as he finally sets you down. He shoves a massive bag into your arms, practically bouncing in place.

You blink at the weight. “Did you kidnap something?”

“Nope~!” He grins. “Just gotcha a bunch of stuff. Some chocolates, a plushie, and—” He leans dangerously close. “—a surprise.”

You narrow your eyes. “Floyd. What kind of surprise.”

His grin widens. “You’ll see~”

You cautiously dig through the bag, finding expensive chocolates, an absurdly large plush shrimp, and—oh. Oh no.

You pull out a mystery envelope. “Floyd, what is this.”

“Ehehehe~” He practically vibrates with excitement.

You open it—and immediately pause.

“…This is a coupon for ‘one free kidnapping.’”

Floyd beams. “Yup! Just give me a time and place, and whoosh! Off we go!”

You stare. “You… made me a kidnapping coupon.”

“Personalized just for you~”

You’re equal parts touched and concerned.

Then—before you can react—Floyd leans in, pressing a surprisingly gentle kiss to your cheek.

“You like it, yeah?” he murmurs, his voice dropping to something softer, something fond.

Your heart flips. “…Yeah.”

His grin returns—wild, unhinged, perfectly Floyd.

“Good! Now c’mon, I wanna see how fast you can run before I really use that coupon~”

You are in danger.

Masterlist

[neeeooon]

Hello!

I really love your writing and i am going through your Blue Lock hc... so i don't know if you have already written my request,if so...i am sorry i didn't see it!

How about the Blue Lock guys get jealous over they own teammates?Like he introduce f!reader to his teammates and f!reader is laughing and having a good time? Maybe with Kaiser,Sae and Bachira or any other character you are comfortable with♡

hii thank you so much!! i have one jealousy post but it isn’t jealous toward members (except rin + karasu) SO THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST 🩵

when they’re jealous of their teammate

jealous bf bllk x fem!reader

michael kaiser

-> kaiser already hates the fact that yoichi is trying to “take” his spot as the main character on the bm soccer team, but now he’s trying to take you too? absolutely not

-> in reality, isagi is not trying to steal you away from your boyfriend, leaving you completely clueless to kaiser’s jealous and unsure as to why he’s so upset whenever you ask to watch him practice or play games

-> “i just don’t know what’s up with him,” you confess to isagi as you both watch your fuming boyfriend dart across the field, scoring goals so loud you flinch. “ever since i started coming to games here, he seems pissed off. he was never upset when i did this before!”

-> isagi, totally unhelpful, shrugs and sips some water on the sidelines. “your boyfriend is creepy, y/n.” “he is not!” “is too!” you shove isagi in a playful manner, causing you both to laugh, and suddenly your stony-faced boyfriend is right in front of you

-> “oh, micha! done with pr—“ “we’re leaving.” you don’t have time to say goodbye to isagi before you’re on your feet and jogging after kaiser

-> “hey, what—“ “you’re my girlfriend, okay? mine. not his. he can’t have you, too.” you’re a little confused at who he means at first, but once you see the glare he shoots at isagi, you sigh. “he’s not trying to take me away, micha. even if he was, it wouldn’t matter because i’m in love with you.”

itoshi sae

-> he knows oliver is a flirt. he knows you’d never fall for the flattery. but when he overhears the player’s body count, he starts getting a bit nervous, because what could the guy possibly say to get so many people in his bed?

-> sae had a sneaking suspicion that oliver used banter and his witty sense of humor to draw others in, so when the sound of your lighthearted laughter fills his ears, he’s feeling all sorts of twisted inside as he spots you with oliver

-> you and oliver. together. his hand raised as if he’s about to caress the small of your back. he doesn’t get the chance, though, because sae is suddenly standing behind you with oliver’s wrist gripped in a fist

-> “problem?” oliver challenges him, eyes sparkling with mischief. sae scowls and shoved his temporary teammate away before placing his hand on your back and slowly pushing you to the exit with him

-> “hey, i haven’t had my fruit punch yet—woah, are you okay?” your playful tone dies in your mouth when you see how tensely your boyfriend is looking at you

-> “you were laughing.” “oh, um, yeah. he made a really bad dad pun, you know i’m a sucker for those.” “he was going to touch you, y/n. he’s clearly hitting on you.” you shuffle a bit, unsure of what to say. “oh. i didn’t realize..”

-> and you didn’t, because why would you look at anyone else when you were dating itoshi sae? the man worshiped you..! in his own ways. your smile throws him off. “no need to be jealous, cute boy. i only have eyes for you.”

bachira meguru

-> bachira doesn’t like feeling jealous. he trusts you, he really does, but watching you and rin makes him doubt that

-> you’ll admit that you have been shadowing the younger itoshi quite a bit, but it’s not the the reasons bachira’s mind plagues him with

-> your older brother passed away in an accident, and your last conversation with him hadn’t been the kindest. when you learned about the strained relationship between rin and his brother, you wanted to help in a familiar sense

-> “y/n, can you help me?” bachira whined as he frowned down at his english homework. “i’ll be right there, megs.” and then you wander off to huddle heads with rin

-> and then? you laughed. with rin! bachira has never seen the guy smile, and now he’s making you laugh? his cheeks puff and blush in envy as he discards his homework and stomps over to you

-> “y/n, i would very much like your help right now please!” you can tell that he’s frustrated, but he looks so adorable that you can’t help but smile as you stand. “okay, i’m coming, pretty boy. what’s up?”

-> “you and that. him! that guy! it makes me feel all icky inside watching you laugh with him, and i don’t like it.” his blatant honestly makes you grab his hands and pull him closer to you. “he reminds me of my brother… but you’re right, i’m sorry if i crossed a line. i’m only trying to help, but you’re my boyfriend, so if hanging out with him makes you uncomfortable, i’ll stop.”

[beomiracles]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈 𝐁𝐄𝐎𝐌𝐆𝐘𝐔

𝓓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝓔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 ⸝⸝ And you don’t know why you took a step forward, why you let your hands brush against his, why you didn’t stop when you saw the bewilderment on his face. You don’t know why you leaned in closer, when you should be pulling back. — And you don’t know why you couldn’t look away, why you couldn’t tear your gaze from the flames dancing across his eyes. 

You don’t know why you kissed him. ⸝⸝

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ wc, 25.5k ་༘࿐

𝓹airing bully!beomgyu x fed-up!reader (f) 𝔀arning friends to enemies to lovers, bullying, implied violence, violence, beomgyu's a dick, reader's also mean at times, college au, kissing, fingering, mutual masturbation, unprotected sex + pullout, angsty confessions, hmm um um what else, I have no clue..

#serene adds ✎... HAPPY BEOMGYU DAY !! (because it's still the 13th here) ⎯ and oh my god have you guys been waiting for this fic... how long has it been, 6/7 months? maybe even more... I have no words. I feel like this fic is a little all over the place, you might notice the inner monologue changing and so on, but that's because I've been writing it over 6 months roughly, my view on the story has changed with each month... I hope it'll still be worth your while >.< happy gyu day, my love <33 - rain says I need to mention her

This story is a sequel to, The Redemption of Choi Yeonjun ⎯ It's advised that you read said fic beforehand !

People change for the stupidest of reasons. At least Beomgyu thinks so. He’s been told that his view of the world is narrow, that change is something good, something that everyone goes through. That change is important. What a load of bullshit. Look what change had done to his best friend. — Ever since Yeonjun had gotten together with that stupid nerd he’d changed. Changed for the worse. And it seemed as if Beomgyu was the only one who could see it. 

He glares at his classmates, but his once sharp gaze seems to have lost its touch. They whisper, talk, murmur, gossip, they speculate about him. Because everyone knew that something had happened between The Choi’s, that something was no longer the same. — But why him? Beomgyu wasn’t the one who’d changed, they changed, not him. Yeonjun was the one who…He was the one who became infatuated with that good for nothing nerd, and Soobin he…he just accepted it? 

Beomgyu almost snorts at the thought. Fine. If they wanted to give everything up just like that, they could, why should he care? But the lingering glances he receives as he pushes through the crowded hallways are near impossible to shake off. So what if he was walking alone? He didn’t need his friends, they weren’t his friends anymore, they were just side pieces in a much bigger pictur– 

“Hey! Watch where you’re going freak!” He seethes as a small boy crashes into his chest, a freshman probably. Beomgyu’s eyes narrow as he seizes the kid. The younger male swallows as he scrambles to gather his belongings, clearing his throat awkwardly as he pushes his glasses further up on his nose. — “I-I’m so sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going and I..” 

What a pathetic being. Beomgyu grimaces at his petty apology, “stay out of my way next time, alright? You weak piece of–” 

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” 

The voice is familiar as it pierces through the crowded hallway and suddenly the previous buzz of students surrounding him diminishes as Beomgyu’s gaze flickers past the small boy in front of him. — You. 

His teeth grind together at the sight of your cocky figure, that smug grin you always wore, as if you were better than everyone else, as if you were better than him. What a joke. Ever since him and his friends broke apart, you seemed to have been actively plotting against him, singling him out now that he was alone. — Beomgyu would die before admitting that your schemes ever proved successful. Because if there was one thing he hated, it was people who meddled in his business. And you seemed to know nothing else. 

The young freshman scurries off before Beomgyu has the chance to grab him and he bites back a frustrated groan. Instead his attention shifts to your approaching frame. With the small squeak of your sneakers against the floor, you stop inches from him, your eyes near level with his. — Blood rushes within his body like never before, anger soaring through him at the mere sight of your pestering face. 

“Pick on someone my own size? And that would be what, you?” He scoffs, eyeing you with disdain. The grin on your lips only widened further and he refused another grimace. Then it clicks, and Beomgyu has to hold himself back as he feels his jaw twitch. — “You.” The acknowledgement is a short huff of air, it hits your face and you squint as your eyes pierces his. “You’re the one who’s been running their mouth about me all week.” 

Suppose you had been mentioning his name a little here and there. A few comments, nothing crazy, nothing that wasn’t true. It wasn’t exactly unwarranted either. Choi Beomgyu was a nuisance. And without his friends to protect him, you were finally able to sharpen the knife that had been so diligently resting behind your back for three years. — You had longed for an opportunity to get back at him for all the shit he caused you through freshman and junior year; and finally, the universe presented you with one. 

You glance over at him, it would merely take a small raise of your heel for your eyes to become leveled perfectly with his. Without that tall friend of his, looming behind his back, or Yeonjun’s authoritative status, Choi Beomgyu was really nothing. — That didn’t change the fact that you absolutely loathed him. And you would be sure to have him know. 

“Why, has something interesting caught your ears?” You drawl, feeling the grin on your lips threatening to bloom into a smirk. Beomgyu’s face morphs into a scowl, undoubtedly familiar with the rumors of him you’d conducted during the past weeks. — “You must think you’re so smart, sitting on your ass all day and spewing nonsense”, he grits as he takes a charging step forward, chest colliding with yours and you almost stumble backward. 

It takes some effort but you manage to remain fairly unfazed as you eye him with indifference. It only serves to make him angrier. Beomgyu was like an open book, a book in which you only had to read the paragraph on the very back to understand exactly how it would end. He was predictable, and without his friends, he was an easy target for someone who’d been studying him for so long. 

“I do”, you chirp, hands clasping behind your back as you sway on the spot. Beomgyu scoffs, giving a small roll of his eyes before his firing gaze centers on you again. “Just stay out of my way.” — His attention drops to the uniform you wore, the one school handed out at the beginning of each year, much different from the designer one he had tailored each semester. It was subtle, but different, and Beomgyu’s grin widened as his eyes raked across your worn out shoes and old bag. “Think you’ve got other things to worry ‘bout.” 

Without another word, he continues down the hallway, though not before giving your shoulder a harsh shove. — Your lip twitches into an uncomfortable grimace and with a small huff you readjust your backpack. Fucking asshole. Your tongue prods against your teeth, tsking slightly as you watch him disappear. 

⸝⸝ 

“Oh come on, do you really think it’s that bad of an idea?” You whine as your cheek rests against your forearm, eyes trained on the words being written out on the paper before you. — “I do”, Taehyun states without lifting his pencil from the sheet, brows slightly furrowed as he focuses on his work. 

With a small huff you peer up at him, the glasses on the bridge of his nose are crooked and you resist the urge to snatch them from his face. “And what does Mr. Class President presume I should do then?” You sarcastically wonder; though the question makes him raise a disbelieving brow as he glances toward you. “I suggest you stay out of trouble.” — Just as you open your mouth in objection, does he cut you off; “and not spread rumors about him.” 

Your expression contorts into one of disagreement but you remain silent. In a way, you suppose you should feel thankful for him. Taehyun was your only friend, if friends were even what one could call you. — The mutual acquaintanceship consisted of you sharing the latest events of your quite dull life, recapping the drama you’d picked up on your way to the school cafeteria, and most importantly; Choi Beomgyu. 

Though he was originally opposed to the friendship, Taehyun had begrudgingly come to accept your persistent presence as you lingered by his desk between classes. And by your senior year, he knew everything that was to know about Beomgyu and why you so loathed him. — “Shouldn’t you let go of him? We’re about to graduate next year”, he states, his voice monotone as always but you could clearly decipher a hint of pleading as he urged for you to stop fawning over the guy. 

“Let go?” You scoff, sitting up a bit straighter as you eye him with a frown, “I do not need to ‘let go’, I need revenge, besides, Christmas break is coming up, I need to act fast.” — Seemingly unimpressed by your enthusiasm, Taehyun merely shakes his head as his focus returns to the piece of paper in front of him, scribbling down a few lines before he sighs; “and how exactly do you plan on doing that?” 

The way your face lit up was unmistakable and you could practically see him regret his words as you shuffled closer. “Well, I happen to have a plan–” But before you can finish, the classroom door swings open and your professor enters. With a small scowl, you lean back in your chair as Taehyun immediately disregards you, turning his full attention to the lecture about to take place. Jeez, what a try-hard.

History was far from your favorite, but the mention of a group project sparked your interest. Your professor was old, a tall and lanky man, and as he announced the presentation you were to hold regarding a historic event, the class groaned. — Immediately turning to Taehyun with hopeful eyes, you’re met with a small glare before he sighs and nods, announcing that the two of you could partner up. With delight you open your mouth to thank him when your history teacher’s raspy voice suddenly interrupts you. 

“Though seeing as your parallel class is taking the very same course, I thought it’d be a good idea to merge the two of you. – It’ll save me some time when grading as well”, he huffs as a small grin tugs at his wrinkled lips. — It doesn’t take long for the room to be drowned in a chaotic murmur. Your brows pull together in a confused frown and you twist in your seat, “what’s that supposed to mean?” — Taehyun merely shrugs as his eyes flicker between you and your professor by the board, and for once he seemed equally lost. 

A quiet cough makes your gaze snap back to your old teacher as he rummages through his bag for a small piece of paper. “Now I know you aren’t too acquainted with the other class, so I’ve taken the liberty of pre-arranging partners for you.” His statement is met with another wave of complaints and displeased groans as students leaned back in their chairs and shook their heads. 

“Wait, does this mean we won’t get to work together?” You wonder to which Taehyun gives a small nod, “most likely.” — You felt your heart drop at least ten floors as you watched your old teacher fasten the small piece of paper to the board. The sound of chairs scraping against the hard floor fills the classroom as everyone scurries toward the front, eager to see who they’d been partnered up with. 

Without thinking you, too, rise from your desk as you pull Taehyun by his arm, yanking him toward the board. It takes a few shoves to get through the crowd that had formed, but soon enough, you’re standing in front of the list. — Your eyes fervently scan the names, going over the rows at least twice before you find yours. It was as if all air had been sucked from your lungs, your throat uncomfortably dry as you eye the jagged scribbles. Next to your own name was ‘Choi Beomgyu’. 

Behind you, Taehyun lets out a short huff, his lips pulling into a menacing smirk as he eyes your expression. — “Was this also part of your ‘plan’?” 

⸝⸝

“I’m doomed!” You exclaim, hands feverishly tugging at your hair as you cling onto Taehyun’s shoulder. Met with a shrug from your friend who trudges forward, you pout, jutting your chin out as you whine in his ear. “What do I do?” — Taehyun sighs, pushing his glasses further up on his nose as his eyes scan the nearly empty hallway. “This is exactly why you shouldn’t have gotten on his bad side”, he scolds and you huff. 

“Come on now”, you mutter as you release your grip on him, “a rumor here and there has never hurt anyone.” — “Besides, aren’t you supposed to be taking my side?” You finish with a small frown, the crease on your forehead only deepening when he doesn’t say anything. “You told everyone that he threw up in one of the school bathrooms”, he then states and you snort, a small grin seeping onto your face. “So? He might’ve.” 

Taehyun shakes his head, “my point is, you’re already off to a bad start.” — His statement makes you slow down, the shift in your pace causing him to nearly stop as Taehyun turns to you with a confused look. “You’re talking as if I’m the one who should watch myself. – Tae, he’s an asshole, if anything, he should feel ashamed.” 

Your friend bites his lip as his gaze flits between the floor to the books in his hands, and you wondered if you had said something wrong. Choi Beomgyu had earned himself quite the infamous reputation at your college along with the other Choi’s, everyone knew that they were bad news, so why did no one speak against it? — Why did Taehyun cower at the name? 

You couldn’t possibly understand their unreasonable fear. 

But you don’t have to ponder for long, because mere moments later, an all too familiar voice calls out. — “Hey, class president!” Beomgyu’s nasty drawl echoes off the desolate walls as he nears you. His hands are shoved in the pockets of his expensive uniform, and he walks with an allude of confidence. 

Upon hearing his name called, Taehyun freezes beside you as he hesitantly turns to face the source of the voice. Stopping mere inches from your friend, Beomgyu leans forward with a smug smirk and Taehyun hastily blinks under his glasses. You watch their small exchange with a puzzled expression. — “You got my essay?” Beomgyu asks as he quirks a brow in the shorter male's direction. His essay? 

Taehyun nods as he reaches for the bag swung over his shoulder, undoing the zipper as he rummages through its contents. Beomgyu watches him with a look of nonchalance, seemingly unaware of your presence as he focuses on your friend before him. — “Here”, Taehyun murmurs as he hands him at least four pages worth of paper, neatly stapled together. 

Beomgyu scans through it leisurely before giving Taehyun’s shoulder a harsh pat, making the shorter wince. “What’s the meaning of this?” You spit, unable to help yourself as you witnessed the person you so loathed go after your only friend like that. Finally, he seems to acknowledge you as Beomgyu’s eyes snap in your direction, his hand falling from Taehyun’s shoulder as his face contorts into a small scowl. 

Despite the lack of his friends, he still made do with the reputation he had left. Your rumors seemed to have made an insignificant dent in the power he held. But…Taehyun? Of all people, he wouldn’t possibly… Your gaze flits down to the essay in Beomgyu’s hand and over to your friend who avoided your gaze as he urged for you to come with him without causing a bigger scene. 

“Why don’t you stay out of my business.” Beomgyu sneers as he eyes you with distaste. “Business? You call this business?” You frown as you shrug Taehyun’s hands from your arm, stepping between your friend and the menace before him. — Your nose could practically graze his as you let out a short breath of air, meeting his furious gaze with one of your own. 

“Bullying people into doing your work? How do you expect to make it outside of college?” The comment makes his already angered expression flare up and you catch his hands curling into fists by his sides. — “Worry ‘bout yourself won’t you?” he scoffs, ready to push past you.. until your next words catch him off guard. 

“Well that’s going to be difficult, seeing as we’re partners now.” 

He stops, dark eyes snapping back to yours within milliseconds and you feel Taehyun’s hand urgently tug at your arm as he silently pleads for you to back down. — “What?” The word comes out as a mere hiss and you can’t help but feel a triumphant grin pull at the corner of your lips. Ah, so he didn’t know yet. 

“Haven’t you heard?” — You let your head fall to the side, an amused expression flashing across your features as you take in his puzzled and angered state, so predictable. “Mr. Brown’s class, the history project, we’re partners, you and me.” The dread that had previously consumed you seemed minimal when you with satisfaction watched Beomgyu’s face practically explode in a multitude of enraged questions; none of which you were planning on answering. 

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” He spits, a look of disbelief presenting itself across his otherwise arrogant face. You shrug, letting Taehyun pull you back as you send him a small wave, “that we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other I suppose.” — Before you can get another word out, your friend has pulled you down the hall in a most hurried manner; scurrying to get away from Beomgyu's piercing gaze as he leans against the wall with a small huff, eyeing you with a mixture of fury and intrigue. 

“What the hell was that?” Taehyun grumbles as he drags you along, walking with determined strides. You merely roll your eyes as you let yourself be swayed down the long corridors. — “I should be asking you that”, you counter, still not over the fact that he had written an entire essay for the scumbag. 

Not late to catch on, Taehyun bites the inside of his cheek as he fiddles with the glasses on his nose. “Nothing you should worry about”, he mutters, intent on disregarding any further questions. “Nothing I should worry about? What are you, his slave?” — “Don’t say it like that”, he groans and you frown, stopping completely as you break yourself free from his grasp. 

With an exasperated sigh, Taehyun turns to you as he runs a hand through his short hair. “Listen, it was a one time thing and..” — “That’s how it always starts”, you huff, rolling your eyes as you shake your head. “Soon he’ll be asking you to write his exams for him as well”, you exclaim, throwing an accusing finger down the hall. 

But Taehyun only shakes his head as he waves his hands in front of him in denial. “I’m just helping him out..!” — Your gaze narrows down on your friend, helping him out? Sure Taehyun was many things, friendly? – was not one of them. And to think that he was willingly helping one of the Choi’s with something so trivial… 

“Does he have something on you?” You ask, watching as Taehyun’s eyes widened, “is that why you’re slaving away like this?” — “No I..” He begins but quickly seals his lips in a tight grimace, “you don’t understand.” Like hell you didn’t. Why on earth would anyone stoop to such a level. For over two years you had watched as the Choi’s ruled your school, and to say that you were sick of it would be an understatement. 

Perhaps your hatred for the small trio was rooted deeper than your peers. Especially your hatred for Choi Beomgyu. — Because you hadn’t always hated him, in fact, at one point, you think you might’ve even liked him. 

⸝⸝ 

“Hey, is this seat taken?” 

The voice is warm, kind and friendly. It makes you blink as you tear your gaze from the small pile of nail polish that had accumulated on your desk, your nervous habit of picking at the paint evident. — First day of freshman year, first day of college, that had been the day. 

With a small nod, you motion toward the chair next to your own. He takes the seat, grinning from ear to ear as he studies you with curiosity. “Nervous?” He wonders as he tilts his head to the side. “Yeah..” Your quiet whisper is near inaudible but he still seems to pick up on it as his lips stretch further. “Me too”, he says and you can’t help but frown, he didn’t look nervous in the slightest as he comfortably leaned back in his chair, fiddling with the collar of his shirt leisurely. 

He was way out of your league. — Yet he reaches a hand out, eyes darting from yours and down to your own intertwined fingers. His palm is soft and warm against yours, his grip unwavering as he shakes your hand. “I’m Beomgyu, Choi Beomgyu”, he smiles, it’s a kind smile, and your heart flutters at the sight. 

Choi Beomgyu. What a pretty name. 

You spend your first week with him, it was nice to have someone you could call a friend. Someone who made you feel less alone, and Beomgyu did, the two of you were friends, you think. 

You ate lunch together… 

“Tofu’s the best when grilled”, Beomgyu hums as he shoves a forkful in his mouth, barely swallowing as he loads yet another one. You giggled as your gaze returned to your own plate, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. The cafeteria was both crowded and loud, you had dreaded the days you would spend alone in here. 

But as Beomgyu found a nice and secluded table for the two of you, even pulling your chair out with an over exaggerated bow to which you rolled your eyes, you felt hopeful. — Perhaps college wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

And you studied after school…

“If 9 is the value of ‘x’ then all we have to do is replace the variables with such”, you say as you scribble across his notebook. Beomgyu’s frown was nearly dented into his forehead, his bottom lip caught between his teeth in concentration. “But how does nine become ‘x’? Isn’t nine a number and ‘x’ a letter?”He wonders to which you shake your head. 

“Not in this case”, you state before drawing a small ‘x = 9’. Scratching the back of his neck dumbfoundedly, Beomgyu gives a deflated sigh as he slumps against his chair. — “I’m never graduating.” 

You even saw one another outside of school…though only once.. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been here..” You quietly mumble, eyes flitting across the expensive looking furniture. The restaurant was small but reeked of wealth, the meals here were surely out of your budget but Beomgyu had insisted on you joining him one friday evening. — “What?” He exclaims in bewilderment, “Are you kidding? This is the best place in town!” 

True to his word, he paid for your meal, not hearing you out on trying to pay him back in the near future. — “Spending time with you is more than enough”, he says as a matter-of-factly, arm wrapping around your shoulders as you walk down the empty streets. 

Not to forget that one time he’d asked for your number… 

“I mean it’s just… I think you’re cool and..” He clears his throat, sending you a sheepish smile before continuing. “Just y’know, for staying in touch and things..” — The timidness of his request made your heart flutter as a grin spread across your lips. 

“Of course I’ll give you my number, silly!” 

The relief immediately flooding his face was palpable as he sighs, eagerly fishing his phone up for you to put the digits in. He made sure to add a pink heart next to your name, promising to be at your every beck and call should you ever need him. 

It was friendship, right? 

Doing stuff together, noticing things about each other, like the cute little mole on his left cheek, accentuating his already endearing grin. Or his habit of pushing his hair from his face with the help of his pinky, carefully touching up the dark strands, almost absentmindedly. 

You wondered if Beomgyu noticed things about you too. Did he see things you didn’t, and did he like them? Did he like you? Perhaps you would’ve gotten answers to all of those questions, had things turned out differently. 

It was inevitable, of course, you were all enrolled in the same class after all, they were bound to bump into one another soon enough. But things changed when Beomgyu met Choi Yeonjun, changed for the worse. And it didn’t take long for him to become someone completely different, someone unrecognizable. 

Slowly he stopped showing up to your study sessions. More often he’d make excuses to not walk you to class. You began eating lunch alone, and before you knew it, Beomgyu was no longer part of your life. — Except he was, just as someone else. Someone cruel, someone who didn't care about what others felt, someone who only lived to make others suffer. 

His new friends were no different, and together they earned themselves an infamous reputation as the school’s bullies. It hurt. Seeing them act so nonchalantly when toying with others, with people who’d done nothing to upset them. — And as you catch him in the hallway one day, a much smaller student hoisted up by the collar of his shirt, Beomgyu’s grip unwavering as he spits insults in the younger’s face. 

It was then you grew to loathe Choi Beomgyu. 

⸝⸝ 

Your finger hovers over the block button as you lay in bed that night. Back then, just as you applied to switch classes, as you tried to get as far away from him as possible, you had rid yourself of his number too. Part of you thinks you should’ve deleted the old chats along with blocking him, but something held you back. It felt…oddly comforting, re-reading the old messages between the two of you, a glimmer of what you’d once had, of what he’d once been. How pathetic. 

With a small groan you let your phone fall down onto the mattress next to you, shifting to lay on your side as you prepare to let sleep overtake you. He would have to bring it up, because there was no way in hell that you were unblocking and texting first. — “Fucking piece of shit”, you tiredly murmur, letting yourself fall into a very uncomfortable slumber, plagued by the thoughts of your upcoming weeks. 

Beomgyu did not text you first. In fact he didn’t text you at all. The whole weekend goes by, and not a single word. Taehyun on the other hand, had been paired up with some stuck up bitch, he’d told you her name, something on M…M, M, M… Ah yes, Mimi. She’d dated one of the Choi’s, until he left her for that shy nerd, served her right. — But even the two of them had already gotten together to get working on their presentation. 

You had until Christmas break, but that was a mere three weeks away, and at this rate, you’d be lucky to get done by graduation. — Finally, your gloomy reality sets in, and you heave a loud sigh as you drag yourself down the hallway. History classes had become optional, and without your partner, there was little to be done. You spend the hour roaming the third and second floor, sneakers squeaking against the uneven tiles. 

Upon passing that one peculiar little red door, your ears are met with the muffled sounds of what could only be someone getting their guts absolutely plowed. Your nose wrinkles in disgust, ‘room 291’, you could only imagine how many girls had lost their virginity in there. — Shaking your head, your gaze returns forward, but instead of continuing your eternal journey down the long corridors, you freeze. 

The object of your affection was standing right there. You thought he’d skipped. Anything to avoid the project at hand you’d supposed. But Beomgyu’s eyes meet yours, and though he’s all the way down the hall, you still catch the disgust lingering in them. His lip twitches, jaw clenching for a split second, and then he’s turned on his heel, marching down the hallway faster than you could blink. 

You scramble to catch up, upping your pace to a light jog as you call for him. “Hey asshole!” But he isn’t listening, nor is he stopping. In fact…Was he walking even faster? What a dick. “Hey wait up!” Fuck, was he really going to make you chase after him? How immature. — Thankfully having made the girl’s football team in seventh grade seemed to have paid off, and you managed to reach him soon enough. 

Fingers clasping around his forearm, you yank him backward, making him spin around on the spot as he collides with you. The crash makes you wince and you retreat, blinking to regain focus before turning your attention to him. Beomgyu was already watching you, his lips curled into a nasty scowl as his brows furrowed. “What?” He spits, his voice barely above a hiss.

Suddenly, you realize just how close the two of you were standing, chests nearly grazing one another, and the scent of his cologne invades your senses; it was the same one he’d worn for all of college, at least that hadn’t changed. — You clear your throat, quickly scanning the empty hallway before you turn to him, plastering on the sternest of expression you could muster. “The project”, you say, subtly straightening your back. Beomgyu raises a questioning brow as his hands dig into the pockets of his uniform.

You frown, and only when you add the word “history” does he seem to catch on. “Oh yeah, that one”, his features relax, lips pulling into a small grin, “how’s it coming along?” Your mouth opens and closes again. “Excuse me?” You huff, the anger in your words palpable. Still running with his act of obliviousness, Beomgyu shrugs, it was clear that he enjoyed the easy rise he was getting out of you. How you would practically explode over his mere existence. You think he liked making you like that, perhaps it made him feel in control. 

Well he wasn’t. Not anymore. 

“It’s a group project”, you state, folding your arms across your chest, “there’s no way I’m doing this alone.” — Beomgyu looks almost as if he's considering your words, his lips pursed and head tilted to the side. “So ask your little friend to tag along, I’m sure he’d be more than happy to”, he jeers, flashing you a nasty smirk. Was he talking about Taehyun? Your Taehyun. The same Taehyun that he’d made write his essay. 

Your feet move on their own as you take a quick step forward, jabbing an accusing finger to his chest and Beomgyu’s face contorts into a small scowl at the action. “You’re hilarious if you honestly think I’d let you off the hook this easy, that I’d just let you sit back and take credit for my hard work.” You move to shove him backward but his hand is already clasped around your wrist, restraining any movement. 

“Get your fucking hands off of me”, he spits, yanking you from his chest with a force that was near bruising. — “Why? Scared that I’ll dirty your expensive attire with my grimy hands?” You retort as you gesture toward his clothes. Beomgyu sneers as he shakes his head, his long hair falling in front of his face before he pushes it back again. “You’ve already tarnished my reputation with that dirty mouth of yours”, he barks, eyes flickering with malice, “got nothin’ better to do than spreading shit about me, do you?” 

He shifts on the spot, his gaze wandering down the hall briefly, as if checking for witnesses before his attention returns to you. “I’m not stupid, I know it’s you, and I know you’re behind this whole group project too.” — Woah there, way to get ahead of himself. You scoff, arms falling to your sides as you regard him with disbelief. “You think I set this up on purpose? As if I’d want to be anywhere near you-”

 “Well you sure act like it”, he cuts you off, gesturing toward the two of you and the empty hallway you were currently occupying. “Chasing after me like this, trying to get me alone, and the rumors”, his face flashes with something akin to contempt, a spark of his usually crude and mean demeanor simmering through his facade of hate. “I mean come on, it’s obvious.” 

Your jaw could practically sweep the floor at this rate and you almost wanted to laugh at the near comical situation. “Whatever it is you’re implying, I can assure you, you’re way off”, you huff, quick to defend yourself. His fingers are still locked around your wrist, an almost tingling sensation spreading through your arm. Upon trying to tug yourself free from his grasp, Beomgyu’s hand only tightens around yours, dark eyes boring into your own as he scoffs: “Cut the crap. You’ve been chasing after me for years.” 

The blunt accusation makes you pause, and for a moment every single comprehensive thought completely evaporates from your head. Chasing after him? No. You’d been trying to make his life a living hell, so what if that included knowing his entire schedule and who he hung out with? It was all part of a much bigger picture, a picture his tiny brain failed to comprehend. — But then again, Beomgyu had always had an ego made out of steel. It wouldn’t be the first time he would twist and turn a situation entirely in his favor. 

“What’s it that loser friend of yours said? To let me go?” He chuckles, warm breath hitting your already flaring face. How did he know about that? Just how much had Taehyun told him when doing his essay? — Your usually sharp mind can’t seem to conjure a single witty remark, and you’re left biting the inside of your cheek as you send him a bitter glare. 

His hand lets go of your wrist, and Beomgyu takes a step back. “Perhaps you should listen to Mr. Class Pres, it might do you good.” With a final cruel smirk, he shoves past you, shoulder slamming against yours as he ventures down the hallway with his hands leisurely stuffed into his pockets. 

You want to scream, throw something at him, possibly advocate for murder, but you do nothing, nothing but watch his retreating figure as he disappears down the corridor. Fucking asshole. 

⸝⸝

That night left you in a flammable state. Anger gnawed at your very being as you paced the small space of your dormitory. Who was he to speak to you like that? And how would you ever make this project work? Talking to him was useless, a complete and utter waste of time. — Then it hits you. Like a small lightbulb being turned on over your head. Talking to him was pointless, you knew that. But what if you just didn’t speak? 

The cafeteria is as packed as it could get that following Tuesday, and you have to paddle through the large ocean of students, all eager to find an empty seat. You, on the other hand, couldn’t care less for today’s plain lunch menu, and instead of searching a clear table, your eyes scan for the most crowded one. 

It doesn’t take long for you to spot him. Surrounded by a heap of what you could only assume to be acquaintances, Beomgyu sits perched on a table in the center of the room. Conversation flows around him but his gaze is glued to his phone in his hand, mindlessly swiping across the screen in a bored manner. You wondered if he even knew the names of those surrounding him. You guessed not. Beomgyu had a.. unique way of making friends, if friends were even what they were. They looked more like tokens, perhaps he used them to appear less alone. 

His attention suddenly shifts from the device in his hands and you follow its direction, eventually landing on a table not far from his. — Occupied sparsely by a mere three students, three students whom you easily recognized. Choi Yeonjun leans forward, his arm wrapped around a girl you recognized as his girlfriend. He looks to be in deep conversation with the third of their small party, Choi Soobin. 

They used to be friends, Beomgyu and them. You remember it clearly. The harsh words, the glares, the distaste on their faces whenever they passed you by in the hallway. But something had obviously happened, a small rift in an otherwise unbreakable circle. And you’re not late to pick up on the way Beomgyu continues to glance their way, even when surrounded by at least a dozen others. You recognize the look in his eyes, the longing. It was the same way you’d been looking at him for the past two years. 

Perhaps he had a weakness after all. 

Your fist slams against the firm surface of his table, making everyone around you snap their heads in your direction. Their eyes boring into you suddenly made you waver, but you shake it off, turning your attention to your target, now only inches from yourself. — Beomgyu glances up from his phone, brows immediately furrowing as his lips part. Surely he had an insult waiting on his tongue, but you cut to the chase by shoving a small piece of paper in his free hand. 

His confused gaze flickers down to the note as he begins unwrapping it, only to be stopped by your hand on his as you shake your head. You mouth the words “not here”, and he scoffs, though shoving the paper in his pocket. — His token friends all burst out into “oooo”s as they wiggle their eyebrows suggestively. 

Beomgyu pays them little mind as he rolls his eyes, instead he watches your retreating figure as you push past the crowd in which you had emerged from. A subtle smirk playing on his lips as he mindlessly fiddles with the note in his pocket. 

⸝⸝

You had no idea if your plan was even going to work. Would he show up? Or had he thrown the paper in the trash at the first opportunity he got? — Running a frustrated hand through your hair, you sigh, casting a quick glance at the time on your phone, 5:27 pm. He still had three minutes. 

Gnawing on the inside of your cheek, you start to reconsider the choice of bringing him to your dorm room, was it really such a good idea? Though it was hardly like he’d show up anywhere in public with you. This was your best bet, you think.. 

The minutes tick by and your anxiety levels only rise, heart hammering in your chest as you pace the small space of your dormitory. By 5:47 you realized that he was a no-show. A weird mixture of disappointed relief floods you, it’s strange, you had expected the disappointment but why did you feel relieved? Did the idea of spending time alone with him scare you? No. That was impossible. 

Flopping down onto your bed, you emit a small sigh, letting your eyes flutter closed as you replay today’s scenario in your head. Scared? What a joke, Beomgyu didn’t scare you, he was nothing but an immature, selfish, rude piece of–

Knock knock. 

Your body jolts forward, flying off the bed like a deer in headlight as your head snaps in the direction of your door. He came? He actually came. You didn’t know whether to cry or laugh as you gingerly got up. — As you head for the door, you stop by the small mirror by your clothes drawer to check your reflection. Quickly running a hand through your hair, your eyes scan for a lip balm. You catch yourself mid-act, almost cringing at the way you tried to appear presentable. What the fuck were you doing?

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you twist the handle as the door glides open, revealing no other than Choi Beomgyu on the other side. He’s still wearing his school uniform, and his gaze quickly lands on the loose t-shirt and plain sweatpants you’re dressed in, a glimmer of distaste overshadowing his otherwise expressionless face. You ignore the silent insult as you clear your throat, “You’re late.” 

Beomgyu scoffs, his eyes darting down the hall either side of him before pushing past you as he steps inside. “You’re gonna nag me about that too?” He drawls, hands digging into his pockets as he saunters about, taking in the small space you resided in. You notice that he hasn’t brought along any study materials, and you internally groan. “Yes, I am. If this is going to work out then we’re going to have to work together”, you state, folding your arms across your chest as if to prove your point. 

Your partner merely hums as he fiddles with the papers scattered across your desk. “Cute room you’ve got”, he comments as he points to the entirety of your dorm. Your jaw slacks as you blink dumbfoundedly. Did he just give you a compliment? No, you catch the smugness in his voice, and the small glimpse of a smirk as he turns back to your desk. Asshole. 

“I’m serious”, you huff, “this project is important to me, we need to do well on it.” One thing you couldn’t afford to screw up were your grades. Not that they were anything spectacular of the sort, in fact you were flunking French. But as long as you did well in a few of your best subjects… History being one of them. 

Shoving the pen he was previously twirling between his fingers back into its container, Beomgyu turns to you with a sneer. “If it’s so important then I reckon you’d do better by yourself, I might just slow you down.” He regards you with an apathetic expression, almost as if he was waiting for you to snap, to lash out on him and to yell. You suppose it must surprise him when you instead only shake your head, dragging yourself over to your bed as you flop down with a heavy thud. 

“Let’s just get started”, you mutter, pulling your computer out as you power it on. Beomgyu cocks an eyebrow in your direction but doesn’t say anything as he leans onto your desk, hands returning to their default position in his pockets. — “How about one of us gathers information and the other one writes it down onto a powerpoint?” you suggest. He looks to be considering your words as he scratches his chin thoughtfully. 

“Fairs.” He shrugs as he pushes himself off the table and before you know it, the mattress dips next to you as he sits down. Your whole body tenses up, your eyes remaining glued to the computer screen in front of you as you avoid as much as peeking his way. You weren’t scared of him. But a part of you felt so oddly on-edge whenever he was around, you couldn’t quite place the feeling. 

His body radiates warmth, a warmth that spreads over to your own, a bead of sweat accumulating on your forehead as you swallow. You weren’t scared of him so why did your heart feel like it was going to beat out of your chest? — The smell of his expensive cologne, usually sickly strong as it tickles your nose, now only feels nostalgic as you breathe in. He’s so close that your hands are on the verge of touching, his pinky inches from yours. 

Beomgyu on the other hand seems unfazed as he peers over at your screen. “I’ll do the research part”, he states as he leans back against the headboard, “sounds less demanding.” You silently exhale in relief as he creates a safe radius of distance between the two of you, nodding as you hum in response. 

The two of you work like that, side by side in silence for a good while. At first you’re so engrossed in your work, doing anything to distract yourself from the fact that Beomgyu was quite literally less than three inches away, on your bed, in your dorm. But as time goes by, you finally dare to tear your gaze from the screen in front of you, and sneak a small peek at him. 

It felt almost surreal. Two years of being strangers in the halls, two years of constant insults, two years of hatred. Yet here he was, so close to you, just like he had been before everything changed, before he changed. 

But now, the two of you were doing something so mundane together. 

Your gaze lingers on him, even though it probably shouldn’t. But you can’t help the way your eyes trail across his seemingly relaxed expression. From the small, almost unnoticeable, furrow of his brows, the subtle pout of his bottom lip and the natural flush of his cheeks. Your attention strays by his dark eyes as they move along the words on his screen when reads. If you tried really hard, you might’ve been able to forget about everything that had happened, if only for a few minutes. 

Maybe. Just maybe. 

Suddenly, you want to reach out and touch him. To run your fingers through his long and unkempt hair, feel the skin of his hand in yours. And you almost do. Until you remember. — Things weren’t like that anymore, they hadn’t been for over two years. You almost recoil at the slip of your thoughts; for having allowed yourself to fantasize like that when reality was far from it. The Beomgyu before you wasn’t the Beomgyu you knew back then. No. You didn’t know this Beomgyu, and it’s with a bittersweet taste in your mouth that you accept said fact. 

You think half an hour might’ve passed when you notice that something’s off. Thirty minutes of radio silence from his otherwise enthusiastic mouth. And as you peer over your shoulder, you find him leisurely swiping across his screen, eyes glued to something that looked far from the information he was supposed to gather. — “What’re you doing?” The question slips from your lips without you actually thinking it through. Beomgyu’s head turns in your direction and he watches you with an expression that said, ‘what the fuck does it look like I’m doing?’

“I thought we agreed on working on the project”, you say as you point a finger toward your open laptop. Beomgyu merely shrugs, his eyes flitting back to the phone in his hand. “I’ve done my part”, he sighs and your brows knit together in confusion. A small tap of your finger leads you to the first slide of your powerpoint, in which he’d copied and pasted in what could only be pages worth of information. 

Seemingly noting your flabbergast expression, Beomgyu huffs, “Why, you can’t expect me to seriously read all of that?” — “So you’re saying we should just cheat our way through it?” The disbelief in your voice is palpable but he doesn’t seem to pick up on it as he gives a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “It’s not cheating. The information is out there to be used, doesn’t say how to use it”, he states. You have to bite your tongue in order to not let your words slip as you stare back at the computer screen with a puzzled face. 

He did have somewhat of a point. But you’d rather die than admit that. Besides, his ways would surely land you a ‘barely passed’ at most. And you wouldn’t have that. — Grumbling out a quiet, “whatever”, you turn back to the powerpoint as you begin sorting through the paragraphs pasted in there. You quickly become immersed in your work, and fail to notice how Beomgyu discards his phone on the bed as he glances around your room with curious eyes. 

You swallow a groan as you re-read the same paragraph for a third time, seemingly unable to focus with him around. Perhaps he was right, perhaps you should’ve just bit into the lemon and done this project on your own. — “Fuck, you kept this?” Beomgyu’s almost taunting voice snaps you from the text you were so close to giving up on, and you turn to him with a confused frown. 

Though your eyes quickly widened as they landed on the bracelet Beomgyu was holding between two fingers. Suddenly your heart is racing and your breaths are coming in short. The already thick air feels even heavier and you emit a shaky exhale. The brown leather, interlaced with streaks of blue, immediately sends your mind to places you hadn’t allowed it to wander for nearly two years..

⸝⸝

“A friendship bracelet?” you question as you eye the small piece Beomgyu had just handed you. The fine leather felt expensive and you wondered just how much he’d spent on this. It was braided together with a thinner blue thread, the cold shade a stark contrast to the warm brown leather, and your thumb slowly traces its outline as you bring it to your face. 

Beomgyu coughs into his hand, shaking his head as he rocks back and forth on the sole of his shoes. “When you put it like that it sounds childish”, he mutters, the tip of his ears radiating a warm pink and you feel your lips tug into a grin at the sight. — “It’s more like..” He hesitates, biting the inside of his cheek as his gaze strays by the bracelet in your hands: 

“Like a piece of me.” 

Your eyes widen when he suddenly takes a step forward, reaching for the accessory as he plucks it from your fingers. “So that, in a way, I’ll always be with you”, he says as he wraps the leather around your wrist. — It’s impossible to refrain from smiling and your cheeks heat up as he carefully fastens the bracelet around your arm. — Then your curious eyes suddenly fall on the leather around his own wrist, a darker and cooler brown intertwined with a warm red. 

A weird and tingly sensation spreads throughout your stomach as you swallow. And before Beomgyu can withdraw his hand again, do you stop him, fingers clasping around his wrists as you bring them together. — The blues and the reds, they remind you of the friendship necklaces you wore back in elementary school. Two halves of a heart, a childish but sweet promise to be what makes the other one whole. 

Was it childish? Probably. But it was Beomgyu, and you found that you did not care for such matters when he was around. In fact, you think you might even like it. — No, you did like it. You liked everything Beomgyu did, you liked everything about him. And though you were too shy to even admit it to yourself, you probably liked him too. 

“It’s okay right?” 

His sudden question snaps you from your train of thought and you blink as your gaze returns to his warm eyes. He looks…nervous? You’d never seen him like that. Beomgyu was always so adamantly prideful, and you don’t think you’d ever seen him waver. But you decide that you like this side of him too, the bashful and almost cute one. 

“I love it.” And you do, you really do. You love it so much that you keep it even when he stops wearing his. Even when he no longer represented your other half. You keep it for two years, tucked inside the top drawer of your bedside table where it resides, waiting for the day where you might finally be able to look at it without bursting into tears. 

⸝⸝

“Where did you get that?” Your tone is harsh and snappy but it barely makes him flinch as Beomgyu leisurely twirls the bracelet between two fingers. — You reach for it, but you’re too slow, and can only helplessly watch as his whole fist envelops the leather. “I expected a lot from you, granted that you’re still running your mouth about me and all”, Beomgyu drawls as he leans back against the pillows. “But you even kept this piece of shit?” — “I mean come on, it’s pathetic.” 

His words stung. Pathetic? Did he really think of your time together as that? Did he think of you as that? Of course he did, you idiot, get that through your thick skull. You hate Beomgyu. One half-successful study session in the privacy of your dorm didn’t change that and it never would. 

He probably threw his out, it would make the most sense if he did. Perhaps you should’ve too. You switched classes, blocked his number, and avoided him as best as you could in the halls. So why had you kept that? Why did you cling to something so insignificant? Why did it bring you comfort to feel the cool leather against your palm? 

“Just give it back”, you groan as you meekly try and pry his closed fist open. Beomgyu looks as if he’s going to put up a fight, say something nasty back, but he doesn’t. Instead he lets you untangle the bracelet from his fingers, watching as you snatch it back before throwing it on your bedside table once more.  — An uncomfortable silence falls over the two of you, weighing down like dark clouds on a previously sunny day. You wait for him to say something, but he never does. He only watches you with that nearly permanent half-smirk of his, brows tugged slightly upward as his eyes flicker across your flustered frame. 

“I think we’ve done enough for today.” The statement sounds monotone and gray as it falls from your lips. And even now, you expect a reply. Foolishly so, for Beomgyu merely shrugs, swinging his legs over the mattress as he gets up from your bed. — You don’t dare look up as he rounds your bed, your gaze stays by your discarded laptop. The sounds of his footsteps suddenly vanish and you carefully crank your head in the direction of your door. 

With one hand on the handle, Beomgyu looks back at you, his eyes glimmering with something you can’t quite decipher. His lips twitch into a full smirk, and for a moment, you think he might spit another insult on you. He doesn’t. — “See you in class, yeah?” Is all he says before twisting the doorknob and vanishing down the hall. 

And as the door slams shut behind him, you’re left in an unbearable silence. Carefully you reach for the bracelet, only to find it torn in half.  

⸝⸝

Beomgyu shows up to class after that. It takes you by surprise, and apparently everyone else too as heads turn in his direction when he pulls out the chair next to you. And though his work effort is minimal, he’s still there. You hate the satisfied feeling that blooms in your chest at the accomplishment. And you hate the fact that a small part of you has started looking forward to history class. But you would never tell him that, you would never tell anyone that, not even Taehyun… 

“Come on, it’s just one tiny little essay!” You complain in a distraught tone, dramatically kicking at a few stones on the road in front of you. The small rocks clash together as they roll down the gravel pathway that takes you around campus. — Taehyun squints against the bright sun that shone despite the cold December air. He shakes his head, exhaling a small cloud of condensation.  

“It’s less than fourteen days until Christmas break”, he argues as he shoves his hands deep into the pockets of the large coat he wore. “Well that’s exactly why I need your help!” You whine, throwing your frozen hands in the air. — “With everything going on, you know the history project and all, I’m going to seriously flunk French at this point Tae..” You sigh, turning to him with the biggest eyes you could muster as you stick your bottom lip out into a pathetic pout. 

“Please Tae, isn’t that what friends do?” 

Taehyun merely spares you a quick side glance before his focus returns ahead. “You can’t pull the ‘friend card’ whenever you’re falling behind”, he huffs. Biting the inside of your cheek, you think of another way to persuade him. “But if we study together? Then I’m bound to learn!” You suddenly exclaim, causing Taehyun to flinch due to your unanticipated outburst. 

“Fine..” He begrudgingly agrees, though quickly groaning as you wrap your arms around him in a tight hug. “I knew I could count on you!” You cheer before carefully letting him go again. — It’s when you pull back that you notice the figure by the benches a few paces away. You frown, gaze narrowing down on its hunched posture. It was odd for any student to be outside between classes during the cold and harsh winter months, let alone sit perched on one of the usual summer hangout spots. 

“Who’s that?” You question, your footsteps coming to an abrupt halt on the rough gravel. Taehyun groans as he turns to see where you might be looking, a small noise of disapproval passing his lips. “No one important, let’s go back inside”, he says as he pulls you along once more. — But in the bright light of the early afternoon-sun, the black hair atop the lonesome shadow’s head seemed awfully familiar. 

“Is that…Beomgyu?” Your inquiry is met by yet another groan from your friend. Taehyun tsk’s as he shoots a sneer in the direction of the lonely figure. “Wouldn’t that be even more reason to go back inside?” — Despite his greatest efforts, you ignore him as you venture off the small path and over the grass. Taehyun calls out for you, conflicted as his gaze flits between you and the entrance not far away. 

With a small roll of your eyes, you stop to wave him over. But Taehyun promptly shakes his head. “Fine, then go on inside, I’ll be right with you”, you say as you readjust the bag on your shoulder. He looks puzzled for a moment, lips pressed into a thin line as he regards you with a concerned frown. “What are you going to do?” He asks, albeit somewhat hesitant. You merely smile, and though it didn’t quite reach your eyes, Taehyun chooses not to pry further when you say: “I’m just going to ask about the project.” — He gives a curt nod before disappearing down the graveled path, hands still stuffed deep in his pockets.

Your footsteps crunch against the frosty grass and they fill the crisp winter air. The closer you get the more certain you become. It was Beomgyu. Sitting on the wooden table, his feet rest on the accompanied bench. He’s not wearing a jacket, only the blazer he had gotten personally tailored. If he was freezing, he didn’t let on to it as he remained still, his eyes focused on the ground below him. 

The real question was, why was he out here alone? Surely he should be spending the lunch break in the cafeteria with his friends, and not on a cold bench outside in the middle of the winter. — You stop in front of him, so close that your worn out shoes break the circuit of his limited vision. He knows that you’re there, you can tell by the subtle twitch of his jaw, and the way his fingers curl against one another as his hands mold together. 

“Hey.” 

You greet him. It’s polite, and when you think about it, you can’t recall ever uttering the word ‘hello’ to him, not for the past two years at least. It takes him a moment to finally look up, and when he does you immediately notice how sunken his eyes are, the almost grayish color of his cheeks and the pink tint to his nose. — He looked like shit. 

Part of you wants to say something about it, to finally jab back at him for all the crude comments he’d made about you. But you can’t. And suddenly, you don’t know what to say at all. Why had you even approached him in the first place? The two of you hadn’t spoken in private since… Well since the bracelet incident. Thankfully he had yet to bring it up again, but you didn’t know if you could trust him not to. It was already awkward between the two of you. 

Had you just made things worse? 

Beomgyu looks too tired to bite back himself as he lets his gaze leisurely drift across your frame. “What are you doing out here?” — Fuck, that wasn’t the question you were supposed to ask. Fucking idiot. But you couldn’t deny the curiosity that lingered around you. What was he doing out here? 

“That’s none of your business.” He spits, lips curling into a small scowl, but you can tell that it’s taking him a great deal of effort. And for some reason, you care. You hate that you do. Because you should feel anything but concern. You should be celebrating his downfall. This was what you had been waiting for. So why did it feel so bittersweet? 

You think it must have something to do with the afternoon spent on your bed. Almost an hour of complete silence, no bickering, no insults thrown. You blame yourself for getting too caught up in the moment. For letting yourself view him in a different light. — You hate Choi Beomgyu. And he hates you. That’s how it was supposed to be. 

When you don’t reply, he lifts his head once more. His eyes are dark, lifeless. He frowns, and for a second he looks almost irritated. “Why do you even care?” He grunts, a flicker of disgust tracing his features, as if the mere thought of sympathy from you was enough to have him gagging. It was nice. It felt familiar. It felt like the Beomgyu you knew. 

“I don’t.” You simply shrug, letting your bag fall from your shoulder as you heave yourself onto the bench next to him. He doesn’t move, but you can feel his gaze on you as he studies you intently. — You don’t dare look at him, instead you keep your eyes set forward. Despite the cold and chilly temperatures, snow had yet to fall. And the naked trees now only looked dystopian as you glance around the campus grounds. 

“Where are your friends?” You suddenly ask, the question coming out light, just like any other. You don’t expect an answer, not from him. In fact you’d prepared yourself for him to get up and leave. But he doesn’t. — Beomgyu is silent for a second, you hear him draw in a slow breath, holding it for a moment before letting go. “What friends?” He then says, and this time he actually sounds tired. 

Your stomach twists in an uncomfortable way, a way that was nowhere near satisfying. “What about the ones from the cafeteri..” — “Don’t be daft”, he cuts you off, his voice gaining a sudden sting. “You’re not stupid. Don’t pretend that you are. It’s unattractive.” He jeers, fingers twisting against one another, as if he was trying to crawl out of his own skin. 

“Isn’t that why you’re here?” He huffs, shuffling to the side as he creates a cold metaphorical wall of distance between the two of you. “To poke fun at me? To shove it in my face?” He sounds almost distressed, and before you can reply, he turns to you. “You think it hasn’t been already?” — For the first time since you approached, he’s looking entirely at you. And when you return his wide gaze, it feels like you’re looking at a shell of who he used to be. 

You tell yourself that it’s the cold air. That it’s the already depressing surroundings of the dying nature around you. But Beomgyu looks just as malnourished as the trees, as pale as the sky and as beat as the frozen grass you walk on. It was easy to take pity on him like that. It was almost like he was begging for it. Begging for someone to sympathize with him. You can’t imagine that anyone ever did. 

“That’s not why I’m here”, and your statement is true. You don’t know why you’d come here, but you knew that it wasn’t out of malice. Because even if you did hate Choi Beomgyu, you don’t think you could ever say it to his face. — He didn’t know that of course. Part of you wished he did. Beomgyu scoffs, his gaze returning to the frosty ground as he bites the inside of his cheek.

You’re scared that you might pity him forever. That things might never change. That the two of you might just be stuck in an eternal loop of hatred and unspoken feelings. — You don’t know what you want, but you know that it is not that. Perhaps this history project was the start you had been looking for. Maybe… 

“Are you free friday?” 

⸝⸝

Your study sessions became regular after that. Beomgyu appeared to have nothing better to do with his time, and to be frank, neither did you. And though you were far from friendly with one another, none of the insults lingered. You studied in silence, him by your desk and you on your bed, as far away from each other as you could get. It was quiet, so quiet that you sometimes forgot that he was even there, save for the occasional sigh or click of his tongue. 

At first, he would bring his phone, checking it every other second, like he hoped for something, for someone, to be there. But after four days, he stopped. And your curiosity only grew. 

Now a mere week remained until christmas break. You and Beomgyu had been studying together for the past six days, without fail. Your presentation was nearly completed, and part of you thinks this might be amongst your last sessions together, if not your very last. — It felt strange, almost melancholic. Would you miss him? Or would you miss the company? Taehyun was your friend, sure, at least that's what you called him. But as soon as the bell rang, as soon as class ended, it was only you again. 

So was it really so wrong to look forward to a bit of company after school? Even if said company was a grumpy and quiet Beomgyu who did his best in ignoring you whilst he was there. Maybe. — Maybe it was the slight urgency of losing the temporary comfort these quiet hours had provided you that led to the act of stupidity you were about to perform next. 

The sun had set hours ago, casting your room in a dim glow provided by the small lamps on your bedside table and desk. You and Beomgyu had been working quietly for the past while. Now that the information was gathered and all that remained was for you to edit the last paragraphs, he used his time to decorate the powerpoint, adding relevant pictures and messing with the fonts. It wasn’t hard work, but the fact that he did something, made your stomach flutter in an unfamiliar way. 

“Are you busy next week?” You wanted to ask him if he would like to practice the presentation together. But Beomgyu kills your last glimmer of hope with a small huff, “Yeah.” He doesn’t turn to look at you, his eyes steadily fixed on the computer screen in front of him despite the fact that he was now only aimlessly flipping through the slides. 

Biting the inside of your cheek, you refrain from asking if he was busy all week. You would most likely only receive a half-hearted ‘yes’ anyway. Instead your gaze flickers down to your keyboard, your nails quietly tapping against the keys as you think of something to say. Every second spent in his presence only seemed to pull even more questions from your already curious mind. There was so much you wanted to ask him about, even though you knew it wasn’t your place. 

Just let him go. 

You can hear Taehyun’s voice in the back of your head, pleading for you to not pry, to keep your eyes down and mind your business. It wasn’t that easy. He didn’t understand. He didn't know. He didn’t know Beomgyu like you did, like you thought you did. 

“Are you sure you don’t have time to come by and practice?” You can’t stop yourself, the question slips out anyway, and you watch as Beomgyu’s shoulders tense before relaxing again. “I told you I’m busy”, he repeats in the same monotone and tired voice he’d been using for the past week. — “Right…” You hold your tongue, fingers brushing over the keys on your keyboard, hovering above the space button. Your lips part, then they close, and then they part again. 

“Are you meeting Yeonjun?” 

You shouldn’t have asked that, you know it. Yet you did. Perhaps you wanted a reaction from him, perhaps you wanted to hear him raise his voice for the first time in over a week, perhaps you wanted him to get angry, to insult you, because it was the Beomgyu you knew. 

His shoulders go rigid this time, and though you can’t see his expression, you can still catch the twitch of his jaw. He’s stopped swiping through the presentation slides, now stuck on the first one as he gazes ahead. For a minute, everything’s quiet, you think he might not say anything at all. But when he speaks up, he doesn’t raise his voice, instead he lowers it, until it’s nothing but a low drawl of his tongue. 

“You think this is funny?” The cold words send a shiver down your spine, and even though he isn’t looking at you, you felt as if you were being judged under a microscope. “I… I’m sorry..?” You squeak, your voice nearly inaudible but Beomgyu catches it. — He chuckles, pushing his chair back as he turns to you. 

The fiery brown in his eyes is long gone, replaced with an ashy looking color, like he was drained of all life. His lips, usually pulled into either a scowl or a menacing smirk, remain just as unreadable as the rest of his face. — “Do you enjoy this?” He asks, but it hardly sounds like a question. 

You gulp, fingers pressing so hard against the keyboard that you have managed to insert a whole paragraph of nonsense onto the powerpoint. Quietly shaking your head, you think of a way to salvage the toes you’d accidentally stepped on. “No I, I’m sorry…” You swallow once more, “I just…I don’t know what happened between you…I..” 

Beomgyu’s loud scoff cuts you off, and you watch as he gets up from the chair, kicking it back against the desk. With two long strides he reaches you by the edge of the bed. Though he was barely an inch or two taller than yourself, he somehow managed to appear menacing as he loomed over you. “Has it ever crossed your mind that it might not be any of your fucking business?” He says, his tone remaining indifferent as he glares down at you with those empty and dying eyes. 

You bite your tongue, refraining from intervening and saying that practically everyone at school knew it. Though you were sure he already knew that too. — Beomgyu huffs out a sharp exhale, shaking his head. “Every single fucking day”, he mutters, his eyes narrowing as they linger by your slightly sheepish expression. “Every day, people like you, stick their nose where it doesn’t belong.” 

The way he spoke, grouping you together with the other students, it shouldn’t have made your chest churn the way it did. “People like me?” You repeat the words, tasting them on your tongue, and finding that you don’t like them. Beomgyu, on the other hand, merely sends you a small look of distaste, the only emotion that had managed to pass his features in a whole week. 

“What? You think you’re something else?” He jeers, frowning when you get up from the bed, straightening your back as you come face to face with him. — “I know I am”, you say, forcing your voice to remain steady. You knew that you weren’t the only one who’s thoughts lingered in the past. You knew that he must still think of the two of you from time to time, even if only for a brief moment. 

Beomgyu finally seems to catch on, his brows rising on his forehead when he does. He looks like he’s about to burst into laughter, you think that he might. “Oh that’s right”, he muses, “You think you’re special because I was nice to you back then, because I took pity on you.” He pushes a strand of dark hair from his face with the help of his pinky, “Bet it was the first time something like that happened.” 

You didn’t want to admit that he was right, that it had been the first time someone had ever gone out of their way for you. That it had been the first time someone had ever gifted you something, apart from your own family, that it was the first time someone willingly sat with you during lunch. But your mind gets caught on that one word he’d used. Pity. 

Was that all it was to him? A game of play-pretend, a chance for him to play hero? You shake your head, it couldn’t be, it wasn’t. — For two years, you had blamed Choi Yeonjun. You had blamed him for taking Beomgyu away from you, for turning him into someone you couldn’t recognize, for ruining your only chance at an actual friendship, perhaps even something else. 

It was easy to blame Yeonjun, you didn't like him, you never had. But you could never bring yourself to actually blame Beomgyu himself, because that would mean he was a bad person, and you didn’t want him to be. You wanted him to remain the perfect version you had created in your head, the version you thought you liked. It became clear now, that he wasn’t. 

“You’re a liar.” 

You state, fingers twitching by your sides as you resist the urge to wrap your arms around yourself. Beomgyu’s expression morphs into one of confusion, then he scoffs. “A liar?” He asks, his voice hollow: “Do you hear yourself talk? You sound fucking crazy.” — “If you think for a second that what we have is different from any other piece of shit person in this school, you’re wrong.” He spits, eyes flaring up for the first time in so long, a small fire igniting within them. 

He continues to list reasons, reasons to hate you, reasons to hate him, reasons to hate everything. You weren't listening. All you see is his eyes, burning with rage, with life. 

It’s unexplainable, the feeling that surged in your chest, that pounds against your ribcage and pulls on your lungs as it sucks the air from them. And you don’t know why you took a step forward, why you let your hands brush against his, why you didn’t stop when you saw the bewilderment on his face. You don’t know why you leaned in closer, when you should be pulling back. — And you don’t know why you couldn’t look away, why you couldn’t tear your gaze from the flames dancing across his eyes. 

You don’t know why you kissed him. 

But you did. 

And now it was too late to ever go back. — Though you're not sure you want to. 

His lips feel soft against yours, not that you had ever stopped to think about how it would ever feel. Yet this somehow seemed right. You don’t open your eyes to look at him, you don’t think you could bear that. Still, you’re surprised when he doesn’t immediately jerk backward, when he doesn’t push you away. — Beomgyu hesitates. You think it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him do.  

The moment lasts forever, and somehow it seems to have vanished within the blink of an eye. The bed squeaks when you crash against the mattress, you can still feel the flat of his palms on your shoulders as the force he’d used to shove you away from him lingered. 

When you peer up at him, you find him already watching you. The flames in his eyes seemed to burn even brighter now. His jaw clenches, fingers curling into fists by his sides as he struggles to keep his composure. — Your lips part, but no words come out. What was there to say? Sorry? But you weren’t. I hate you? But you didn’t. 

Beomgyu speaks before you get the chance to, his nostrils flaring as he takes a deep breath. “You’re fucking insane.” It’s all he says, not waiting for a response as he turns back to your desk. He shoves his laptop in his bag with such force that you thought its seams might break.

Then he heads for the door, reaching it in four long strides. He doesn’t turn to look at you, not like he had that day. He rips it open, ignoring the squeaking sound it made when he slammed it shut behind him. 

The silence that follows echoes through your small dorm. And you remain on your bed, motionless, staring ahead as your fingers reach up to touch your lips. — Still burning with the fire he’d igninited. 

⸝⸝

That night was a quiet one, your dorm room basked in the eerie glow of the moon. Nothing but the soft sounds of your hushed sobs filling the confined space. Your pillow is wet, stained with your tears as you cry into the cotton. It was pathetic, really. In fact, you didn’t even know why you were crying. — But as soon as the door had slammed shut, and you had been left alone with nothing but your lingering thoughts, everything had become too much to bear. 

The events of the past few weeks finally catching up to you, breaking the dam of pent of tears you’d been so carefully keeping at bay. It felt as if it would never stop. You didn’t know whether you felt humiliated, rejected or just straight up insulted. Part of you just felt stupid. What the fuck were you even thinking? Kissing him like that. The image itself makes you grimace, and with a heavy sigh you pull yourself into a sitting position. 

After fumbling in the dark for a few moments, your fingers manage to grasp your phone. The bright light of its screen blinds you, and you squint as you scroll through your ridiculously short contact list. — The line rings for almost a whole minute, all the while you anxiously bite on your short nails, chopping the last bits of green polish from your nail beds. And when he finally picks up, it’s silent, save for the deep breaths he emits as he waits for you to speak.

“Taehyun?” 

Your voice comes out a lot more hoarse and strained than you had anticipated, causing you to immediately clear your throat. Taehyun groans, and you hear him shift slightly as he mutters something incoherent. “Do you know what time it is?” He finally asks in a groggy, sleep-laced tone. A spark of guilt blooms in your chest, and you throw a quick glance toward the time on your phone, showing that it was well past midnight. 

“I’m sorry…I just”, you bite your lip, hesitating for a moment. It wasn’t like you didn’t trust Taehyun, it was just different. You and Taehyun were different. Part of you thinks he won’t understand, that he might judge you, no you know he will. Still, he was the only one you could turn to. — “Taehyun, I think I messed up.” 

He doesn’t answer right away, but you know he’s still there. You sit in silence for a while, just listening to his breaths, and for a moment you wonder if he’s fallen back asleep. But then he speaks, this time he sounds more awake. — “How bad?” He asks, and somewhere in the background, you think you can make out a light being flicked on. 

“Really bad..” 

⸝⸝

You had never been to Taehyun’s house before. Two years of so called friendship and you would think that you’d progressed further. But as you heave the last step leading up from the subway, you stop in order to relocate yourself. The neighbourhood looked average, yet inviting. Its quaint little houses, lined up along the dimly lit street, all reflected one another. 

Number 14, that was the one you were looking for. Your worn out sneakers hit the asphalt with heavy thuds, and a small cloud forms when you exhale out into the cold December air. With your fingers stuffed deep in the pockets of your duvet jacket, you make a slight turn, coming face to face with house number 14. 

It looked just like the rest, a small mailbox by the fence gate, its white paint chipped in places. You push it open, stepping up the small graveled path taking you to the doorsteps. Taehyun told you not to ring the bell, but to quietly knock. He didn’t live alone, you knew that much. — He shared the small flat with one of the juniors, you think his name might be Kai. 

You knock once, proceeding to wrap your arms around yourself as you wait anxiously for him to open. It takes him a mere thirty seconds, and when the door swings aside, you're met with the still sleep-laced figure of Kang Taehyun. — He’s dressed in nothing but a pair of checkered sweatpants and a black t-shirt, the glasses he always wore nowhere to be seen. He looked far different like this, it takes you a moment to even recognize him. 

Your silence must’ve been unusual, because he soon cocks an eyebrow, stepping aside as he motions for you to get in.  

Taehyun’s place looks nothing like you’d imagined it. It was far messier. With clothes hanging off the kitchen chairs, lecture material spread over the round table and piles of books crowding the already small countertop. Still, he doesn't seem to mind the slight chaos as he reaches up to fetch two glasses from the cabinet, not saying anything as he fills them both with water from the tap. 

This eternal silence covers you both like a thick blanket, enveloping you in a false sense of ignorance, like the fact that you were currently in his kitchen, at 3am no less, was completely normal. — Taehyun remains quiet as he walks past you and into the joint living room, you trail behind him, eyes lingering on the discarded guitar that rested against the wall. 

The large green sofa takes up a good third of the room, and Taehyun sets your glasses down on the wooden coffee table in front of it as you take a seat. — “Do you play?” It’s the first thing that comes to mind, not a ‘Hello, sorry for bothering you so late at night and barging into your home.” But you can’t help yourself, somewhere in the back of your mind, you hear Beomgyu, clearly remembering the day he’d told you about his love for music, no less the guitar. 

But Taehyun merely shrugs, and when he speaks, his voice is groggy. “Kai does.” The statement doesn’t leave room for further questions, and you thought it was probably wise to not bother him with more small talk. 

Reaching for the glass, your fingers wrap around its cold surface as you bring it to your lips. You sip slowly, prolonging the inevitable confession you were to make. And as the refreshing water slides down your incredibly dry throat, you sneak a glance in his direction. It felt odd, seeing Taehyun outside of school like this. 

Your gaze lingers on his bare arms, something his uniform never allowed even as much as a glimpse of. He leans against the soft cushion of the couch, mindlessly fiddling with a small string which you had no idea where he’d gotten it from. — It might’ve been the late hour, or the change of scenery, hell it might’ve even been the fact that you’d probably made the biggest mistake of your life not even eight hours ago. But had Taehyun always looked this… Good wasn’t the right word… At least you didn’t think it was. 

You suppose he looked… Ordinary. He looked far more relaxed than he ever did at campus, in class or in the cafeteria. This Taehyun resembles little of your class president, right now he just looks like, well him. 

“Why are you here?” His sudden question snaps you from your trance and your eyes immediately snap toward the water in your glass, the clear liquid swirling around slowly. Why were you here? Because you were alone, because you were scared, because you didn’t have anyone else to turn to. — “I… I messed up”, your deflated sigh rings out in the living room. 

Taehyun continues to fiddle with the small string, twisting it around his thumb. “The presentation?” He asks, but you can tell that was not what he’d actually meant. Still, you nod. “Well that one too, that’s for sure..” You didn’t even want to think about having to face him next Tuesday, much less going through with that presentation together, in front of everyone. 

“It’s about him, isn’t it?” 

The question was hardly needed, and you mumble out a quiet ‘yes’ as you set your glass down. Taehyun hums, his eyes trained to his hand. You wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t. Biting the inside of your cheek, you inhaled slowly. It was better to get it out right away, wasn’t it? Besides, there was no way you could sugarcoat it, no way for you to lie yourself out of this. You wanted to be honest with Taehyun, because it was easier to be honest with him than with yourself. 

“I kissed him.” 

There. You said it. So why didn’t the lump in your throat ease? Why did your chest still feel tight and your palms sweaty? Why couldn’t it all just go away, you did what you were supposed to, you confessed. Was that not enough? — Taehyun doesn’t look surprised. In fact he looks almost amused. As if he was betting with himself, ultimately ending up winning as you said what he’d already expected you to. 

“I think he hates me even more now. No - I know he does.” You can’t stop the words from flowing, all your pent up emotions rolling off your tongue in one swift motion. “I don’t think he’s ever going to talk to me again. And I’ll probably have to do the presentation alone. But I don’t reckon he’ll tell anybody, I’m sure he’s embarrassed about being associated with me. Fucking entitled asshole.” The last part comes out with slight distaste. 

“Don’t you agree?” You turn to Taehyun who’s been listening quietly. Finally, he glances up from the string he’s fiddling with. He sighs, “I think you should’ve stayed away from him just like I told you to.” — His words made your chest tighten even further, but they were not surprising. You knew what his response would be, you had known before you even picked up the phone to call him. Still, you did it. Because even if he told you what you’d already heard so many times before, it was something, and something was better than nothing. 

“Why did you do it?” You quietly ask him, your question coming out nearly inaudible. “Hm?” His dark eyes, the ones you used to watch behind the thick lens of his glasses, shift over to you. — “Why did you write his essay?” Your sudden change makes him pause, his fingers stilling around the thin thread he’d been twirling for the past minutes. Taehyun looks at you, but you can tell he’s not actually looking at you. 

“What do you mean?” It takes him almost a whole minute to reply. That had never happened before. Holding your tongue, you consider your next words carefully. You’d been wanting to ask him about that day in the hallway for so long now, it had been pestering you for weeks, like an itch you couldn’t quite scratch. Because if it was one thing you couldn’t understand, it was why someone like Taehyun, would do something like that, for someone like Beomgyu. 

“Does he have something on you? Is he bullying you?” 

Taehyun shakes his head, his jaw clenching as he discards the thread between his fingers. “No”, he finally states, his voice firm. He was lying. He had to be, right? — “Then why?” You knew you were pushing far, too far, but you wanted, no, needed answers. But he only averts his gaze, his attention fixed on something far ahead. You try to follow his line of sight, your own eyes landing on the crowded bookshelves. 

Books. Your lip twitches at the sight of pages worth of study material. But as you survey the shelves closely, you find that they’re neatly organised, unlike the chaos that spread through the rest of the house. From different subjects, all neatly categorized, yet one book remained alone, separated from the rest. You didn’t recognize its cover. 

“Latin.” 

Taehyun’s thoughts seem to align perfectly with yours as he, too, eyes the lonesome book. “I didn’t know you took latin..” You murmur, still not tearing your gaze from the shelf. Beside you, Taehyun hums before going silent once more. That silence lingers for another thick and heavy minute. The darkness of his living room closing in on you, the sounds of your quiet breaths remaining the only signs of life. 

“Hardly anyone picks latin”, he then adds, nodding toward the book on the very edge of the shelf. You nod, even though you don’t exactly understand where he’s going with this. Taehyun sighs, and he sounds tired, “Picked it ‘cause I felt bad.” — “The professor would hardly have a class to teach this semester if it wasn’t for me.” 

You frown, shifting back to him as your lips part in an unspoken question. But Taehyun doesn’t need to look at you to know what goes on inside your head. — He shrugs, “You asked me why.” 

The silence that follows his last words did not feel as heavy as the others. It merely felt…confusing. Your gaze drops to your hands, placed neatly on your lap. Exhaling through your nose, you begin picking away at your already chipped nail polish, watching as the red flakes fell to your knees. Latin… He picked it out of pity? Not because he enjoyed it but because he felt bad? 

But what did Latin have to do with��� 

“Did you want to do it?” Taehyun suddenly asks, and it felt weird, because he hardly asked questions about you, and especially not about Beomgyu. — The lump in your throat bounces back twice as big this time, and your fingers still. “Yes.” If there was one thing you were sure of, it was that. You wanted to kiss Choi Beomgyu, and you had.

“I don’t…” You begin but quickly trail off. Taehyun is patient. He waits for you to continue, he waits for two whole minutes, until finally, you say: “I don’t regret it.” — “And I wish I could tell him that.” 

Taehyun shifts on the green cushion, turning so that he’s now facing you. His gaze isn’t the narrowed and sharp one you’d grown so accustomed to. This one’s gentle, almost soft. — “So why haven’t you?” 

⸝⸝

“What the fuck is your problem?” 

The voice is sharp, and you think you might recognize it. It makes you halt, stopping just as you were about to round the corner taking you to the dormitories. With your back now pressed against the cool wall, you freeze, listening to the conversation taking place. You had mindlessly been returning to the place you called home after a long day of classes, when suddenly two arguing voices caught your attention. 

“My problem?”, Beomgyu spits, his tone harsh and defensive, “Fucking hell man, have you even seen yourself lately?” 

The other voice, which you now recognize as Yeonjun's, cuts back with an equal bite. “Oh come on, just admit that you have something against her. – It’s not like you’ve ever tried to hide it.”

Beomgyu remains quiet, the air feeling dense and heavy with unspoken feelings. “I don’t have anything against her.” He pauses and you wonder what his face might look like right now, furious, deflated? He exhales, “It’s you, okay? You’re the issue here.” 

You could almost hear the surprise as it radiated off of Yeonjun, and you manage to get a glimpse of one of his arms as he shifts on the spot. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” He sounds confused, agitated almost. 

“It means..” Beomgyu begins, though quickly cutting himself short as he inhales. “It means you’ve changed, alright. — And I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you but you..” He trails off, the frustration at not being able to say what he wants, what he feels, is palpable and you shift uncomfortably against the wall as you hold your breath. 

Yeonjun scoffs, it sounds almost like laughter. “Oh, so I get a girlfriend and suddenly can’t hang anymore?” — “Yes.” Beomgyu immediately responds. “You and that fucking good for nothing ner-” 

Thud. 

It sounds almost as if one of them had shoved the other against the wall and your eyes widened as you resist the urge to take just a single step forward, to round the corner and see for yourself. — Yeonjun is the first to speak. “You fucking watch your mouth!” He snarls and you can make out Beomgyu’s low groan as he splutters against what you presumed to be Yeonjun’s chokehold on him.

“Or what?” He counters in a strained voice, the teasing edge evident, the one he used to mask how hurt he was.

The sound of Yeonjun’s fist connecting with what could only be Beomgyu’s face echoes through the otherwise empty hallway and your heart drops to your stomach. But Beomgyu merely chuckles. “She ruined everything”, he grumbles, merely adding fuel to the fire. 

“Shut your mouth.” 

Beomgyu snickers, and Yeonjun’s frustration bounces off the walls. You’d heard enough, and you certainly weren’t going to risk staying and ending up in the middle of it. So you turn around, and just as quickly as you had come, you retreat again. 

⸝⸝ 

You nervously pace your room, mumbling the words to yourself over and over, trying your hardest to memorize them. It had dawned on you that you would be doing this alone, and now what remained was to learn everything. But no matter how many times you circled your bed, you always found yourself off track, needing to double check your laptop over and over. 

You were slowly becoming desperate. Nothing seemed to work in your favor. — You curse yourself for letting your feelings get the better of you. For being naive, for thinking that he actually felt something, anything for you. Had you just restrained yourself, had you just held back… You wouldn’t be in this situation right now. 

Anxiously gnawing on your nails, your teeth scrape their beds as you re-read the paragraphs written on the powerpoint for the fifthteenth time. The sentences had started to blur, the words merging with one another slowly. — You shake your head, willing yourself to stay focused, to not let your emotions get the better of you, again. 

But then there it is. A loud, almost frantic, knock at your door. — Knock! Knock! 

Your head jerks in its direction, the presentation long forgotten about as your eyes narrow on the dark oak. You throw a glance at the time, 8:29 pm, what could anyone possibly want you at this hour? — But the knocking persists. 

Knock! Knock! Knock! 

It’s loud, flaring like thunder through your dormitory and it makes you jump. Naturally, you do the only thing that comes to mind; you approach, with both curious and wary steps. Your hesitant hand reaches for the handle, the other one twisting the lock as you pull the door open. — The sight that greets you on the other side is nothing you could’ve ever imagined. 

Beomgyu looks even worse than he had a week ago. The bags under his eyes were a permanent look now, dark and sunken in. His long hair falls in uneven sections down the sides of his face, a few strands sticking to his forehead, covered in a sheen layer of sweat. Even his expensive uniform was messed up, tie hanging loosely around his neck and his white shirt torn by the seams. 

You can only make out half his face, the rest shielded by his unkempt and dark hair. But what stood out was the large and angry bruise covering his cheek. Its blue and purple hues were a stark contrast to his honey-like skin. You knew where he’d gotten that. His breaths come out ragged, shallow, like he’d ran here. Perhaps he had. Your lips part, but before you can get the question out, he’s barging inside, slamming the door shut behind him. — “Beomgyu what..” Your words fall short as he pushes his hair from his face, revealing his dark eyes to you. 

They were burning with the same fire they had been that night, the night you kissed him. The flames dance across his bottomless irises. You think that if you got too close, you’d end up burning yourself. Another part of you thinks it’s too late to take cover. That you had already walked inside and sealed the door shut behind you, and now you would burn with him. 

He takes a step forward, the fire drawing in closer and you squint against its flames. His chest heaves, it clouds your narrowed vision as he backs you up against the nearest wall. Something had happened, something had made him like this, because this was not the Beomgyu you knew. The Beomgyu you knew would be repulsed to even as much as near you, to even breathe the same circuit of air as you. 

He is not the Beomgyu you know. Because the Beomgyu you know would never kiss you. 

But this one does, and it’s without hesitating that his hands reach for your face, cupping both cheeks in his blazing hot palms as he brings your face to his. — Your eyes widen, alarm bells going off in your mind, screaming for you to push him back, to demand answers from him. So why don’t you? Why do you let him kiss you, why do you let him toy with you like this? 

Beomgyu did not like you. He hated you. That was a fact. Not because he’d said so himself, or because he treated you like he did. But because it was the reality you had been feeding yourself for so long. It put you at ease, knowing that he hated you, because if he did, then he at least felt something for you. You weren’t just another face in the halls, your time together wasn’t just a figment of his or your imagination, it had been real. The two of you were real, and the resentment and hate was a confirmation of just that. 

So when his lips press against yours, warm and wet, his tongue slips inside your mouth without waiting to hear your startled yelp.. The reality you had built for yourself suddenly starts to crumble. Everything was wrong, this was not how it was supposed to be. — You had allowed yourself a slip up last week, a moment of weakness. You had kissed him. For a brief, short and awfully painful moment you had let your own desires consume you. And you had paid the price. 

This time Beomgyu was acting on his desires, not yours. And that scared you. 

His chest is flush against yours, his grip on your face unwavering as he forces your lips to meet in a searing kiss. You don’t understand. You thought you had him all figured out, this wasn’t supposed to happen, why is he… — “Beomgyu, stop!” Your nails dig into his shoulders, tearing him off of you with all your might. He separates from you, if only an inch, the kiss coming to an abrupt stop as you’re left panting. 

His lips are coated in saliva, a small string connecting the two of you before it breaks just a second later. You barely recognize him. “What’s going on?” The question is accusing, your voice laced with confusion and anger. 

Beomgyu remains silent, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he exhales a final heavy breath. His jaw clenches when he swallows, and his dark eyes flicker down to your lips once more. — “Shut up.” It’s all he says, but there’s no malice in the way he does. It sounds almost like a plea. And the fire within his eyes seems to burn even brighter as his gaze meets yours. “Please just shut up.” 

You did not want to shut up. You wanted to ask what the fuck he thought he was doing. You wanted to show him just how it felt when he rejected you just days prior. You wanted to tell him that he was ‘fucking insane’ and slam the door shut in his own face. — You did none of that. 

The next kiss is initiated by you, not him. It’s soft, and it reminds you of the one you’d given him last week. Slow, hesitant, but tender. And Beomgyu’s hands reluctantly drop from your face, gently sliding down your arms and sides before settling on your waist. — You had known for a long time now that you felt empathy for him. That you pitied him. Perhaps it was why you let him use you. 

Tomorrow he would not speak of this. He would act as if it never happened, he would bury it as deep as he could. He might think that this is his only solution today, that this will be his solace for whatever might’ve set him off. But it isn’t, and when this night morphs into dawn, he will realize that. — You don’t want him to. 

You should tell him to stop right now. He’ll only end up hurting you, not that he cares, he never had. But you, you should care. So why don’t you? 

Your fingers tug his already loose tie off, letting it slip from his neck before you work on his shirt, hastily unbuttoning it. Beomgyu follows in your tracks, letting you shrug the torn garment from his shoulders before he reaches for the pajama pants you wore. — You stop him, your hand on his wrist. “On the bed, please”, you whisper against his lips. 

His nod is barely noticeable before he hoists you into his arms. The sudden action startles you and you cling to him in shock as he gently places you down onto the mattress. He just about bothers to shove your laptop to the floor, muttering something incoherent about being able to get you a new one if it broke. You can’t find it in you to care, not when he climbs on top of you, the bed squeaking beneath his weight as he does. 

You feel warm, fuzzy, intoxicated even. Bleary eyes finding his as he hurriedly presses his lips against yours again. It was almost as if he was trying to drown out whatever thoughts plagued his mind as his hands grabbed at whatever part of you he could access. — His fingers hook around the waistline of your pajama pants, attempting to tug them off once more, and this time he succeeds. 

The air of your dormitory is cool against your naked skin, causing goosebumps to flare across it as Beomgyu slides your clothes down your body. He was moving fast, almost too fast. For some reason you let him, even though you know you probably shouldn’t. He was being selfish right now, wasn’t he? Using you like this, only to quiet his own worries, to soothe his own pain. He didn’t care for your feelings and he never would, not even now as his hands hover above your panties, fingers tracing their lining with eagerness. 

Or perhaps you were the selfish one? He clearly wasn’t thinking straight. The Beomgyu you knew would never stoop to this level, he would never go for someone like you, and you would never allow it.. Right? — Were you selfish for using him in this state, for egging him on even when you knew that the two of you were to regret this in the morning? 

Maybe. 

You don’t care. 

His fingers slide beneath the fabric of your pantines, running between your folds, circling your clit once as he pulls a shaky gasp from you. Your hands are still gripping his shoulders, nails digging into the skin there, leaving crescent like shapes in their wake. — He doesn’t wait, doesn’t drag the process out. You can tell that his mind is set on one thing. That’s okay, so were yours. Right? 

You cry out when he pushes two fingers inside of your aching cunt, curling them meticulously as his lips trail down your jaw. Your hips arch off the bed, meeting his movements as you wordlessly beg for more. — “Beomgyu, we… we should..” You didn’t even know what you wanted to say, the feelings swirling within your chest were difficult to convey. 

But he won’t have a word of it. “Shut up”, he grunts, the palm of his free hand pressing against your pelvis as he shoves you back against the mattress. He’s rough, surprisingly so. You’d always taken him for a little bitch. But his strength startles you, as well as sending a shot of heat through your stomach, making you clench around his fingers. 

If he notices it, he doesn’t bother to comment, which is unusual for him. Something bad must’ve happened, that’s all you can think. Something so bad had happened that his only resolve was you. The thought of him using you to get over whatever had hurt, it should upset you. It should make you feel small and insignificant, but it never did. 

Beomgyu tugs your panties down, throwing them over his shoulder as he parts your already spread legs. — Your hands glide over the apex of his shoulders, and you blink up at him expectantly. He doesn’t return your gaze. That hurt. 

Instead he focuses on the zipper of his uniform pants, undoing it with a harsh tug before slipping hand down his pants. His low groan pierces the thick and hot air, the sound is one so sinful, one you could have never imagined coming from his lips. — Your eyes dart down to his cock when he pulls it free, tongue subconsciously darting out to wet your lips as you regard the way he languidly strokes himself.

“Touch yourself”, he says, his voice low and gruff as he eyes your dripping cunt. — Surprised, you hesitantly comply as you reach a hand down between your thighs, fingers experimentally dragging across your core. The small moan that slips off your tongue makes your face heat up as you avoid his gaze. 

You push two fingers inside of your pleading cunt, not even bothering to put on a show for him as you let yourself become immersed in how it feels, how good it feels. In fact everything felt good, a little too good, when you know it shouldn’t. — You watch him through the corner of your eye, catching the bead of precum that slid down his veiny shaft. And your stomach flutters uncontrollably when he squeezes around himself, letting his head tip back with a strained moan.

When he’s evidently had enough, he pushes your hand away, ignoring your cries as you lose any semblance of pleasure. Though your loss is soon replaced by the head of his cock as he slides it between your folds. It bumps against your clit, making you shudder as your fingers twist in the bed sheets. — Your lips part, but Beomgyu’s hand covers them again. 

“Don’t.” He grunts, his attention focused on the way his thick cock gently eases itself inside your warm cunt. Your eyes widen, a small and muffled noise of pleasure leaving you as you squirm beneath him. — “Don’t say anything”, he nearly pleads, his dark and burning gaze flickering to your face for a brief moment. 

Your chest contracts, you didn’t understand.. Yet you complied, sealing your lips off to anything that wasn’t a cry or a moan. — Beomgyu’s pace is rough, leaving no room for you to argue as he snaps his hips against yours. The bed frame rattles against your wall, and you briefly worried that the sound would carry into the next room. Beomgyu doesn’t seem to care. 

His hand slides off of your lips, resting on the mattress just inches from your face as he hovers above you. — Stifling a small whimper, you reach up to touch him, any part of him that you could. This was your chance, no? 

You can feel every twitch of muscle as you drag your fingertips along his arms, letting your hands glide across his tense shoulders. Beomgyu shudders when you reach the nape of his neck. — He complies when you pull him down for another kiss. This one starts out slower, but quickly morphs into something that could easily match the pace he was keeping. His teeth pull your bottom lip into his mouth, biting down with a force that startles you, a surprised moan ripping from your throat. 

He made you feel nearly delirious, like you didn’t exist, nothing felt real. But at the same time, you could feel everything at once. He was so close, closer than he'd ever been to you. Not even back then, back when you considered him your friend. Not even then did it feel like this.. Raw, scorching hot, burning and most importantly, alive. 

Your chest is already hurting, already mourning the loss of him that was to come. Why couldn’t you just allow yourself to live in the moment, to give in to your desires completely, even if they were beyond what you knew to be possible. This was real, he was here, with you. For now, for tonight, everything was different, and you should let it be just that. 

“I love you.” 

The confession slips past your lips. It carries out into the dim room, bouncing off the walls, ringing in your ears and pounding against your ribcage. Beomgyu stills inside of you, his dark eyes immediately landing on yours as they narrow. — Fuck. You shouldn’t have said that. Did you even mean it? Or had you let your flimsy emotions get the better of you once again. 

But this wasn’t just a small peck on the lips. Something you could pull back from, something you could wipe off your mouth and forget about. This was you baring your heart to him. This was you showing your most vulnerable self. — This was you being selfish. 

Beomgyu’s face twists into a scowl, the way it did whenever he tried to mask how hurt he was. Because that’s what he was tonight. Hurt. It’s why he’d come here. To use you. To let himself forget. He’d begged you to be quiet. — And you had done the exact opposite. 

“You don’t.” His statement is cold, and it sends a shiver down your spine. “You don’t know what you’re saying”, he grunts. And his expression hardens when you insistently shake your head. 

“I do”, your lips press into a thin line, determination flickering across your features. That was a lie. You did not know if you loved him. But you knew that you pitied him, that your heart ached for him. It was like every punch to his gut went straight to your heart. — Perhaps the hurt was so strong that you had confused it with love. Maybe your empathy for him got mistaken for real feelings in your mind.  

How should you know? It wasn’t like you’d ever felt it before. 

And he hadn’t either. You were sure of it. 

“I know what I’m..” — “I said you don’t know anything!” Beomgyu’s voice cuts you off, it sounds like a scream. Ear-piercing and deafening. Beomgyu was yelling at you. And it scared you. 

He shifts above you, elbows digging into the mattress and you suddenly remember that his throbbing cock is nestled within your cunt. You think he might pull back, that he will get up and leave. That’s what he should do. But he doesn’t. — Instead he jolts back into action, snapping his hips against yours with newfound force, his jaw clenching as his dark eyes bore into you. 

“You’re confused”, he jeers, and you choke back a wanton moan when his thumb circles your clit. “Lot of girls get confused when they’re stuffed with cock”, he scoffs, “And you’re no different.” — Beomgyu was back to his old self, the cruel and menacing one. The Beomgyu that fronted whenever he tried to hide his true feelings, when the real him was feeling weak. You should’ve seen it coming, really. But his words still hurt, they always did. 

He rams himself into you, making your thighs quiver as they meekly wrap around his chest, drawing him even closer. You screw your eyes shut, not wanting to see him for as much as another second. He doesn’t seem to care, in fact he hardly seems to care about anything at the very moment. 

His fingers are harsh against your clit as he drinks in every moan you emit. And when you finally finish around his cock, your cunt fluttering around him, he doesn’t say anything. You pant, still refusing to look at him as you catch your breath. His thick cock makes you wince as it continues to push into you with demand. 

Beomgyu pulls out wordlessly. Hissing out into the quiet air as he cums all over your spread thighs, his sharp intake of air pounding in your ears. His release is warm, a sickening contrast to the cold sweats that had broken out on your body. It nearly makes you shiver. 

A new kind of silence follows after that. One full of knowing. Because you both knew that what had transpired tonight, was not something you would ever talk about again. The unanswered questions would never be brought to discussion. And you were supposed to be okay with that. You were supposed to be okay with this. 

You don’t know if you ever will be. 

⸝⸝ 

The bed was empty that following morning. The only trace of Beomgyu were the rustled sheets where he’d slept. And you spent nearly an hour tracing their patterns with the tips of your fingers, following every crease of duvet carefully as you memorized the shape of him. 

You knew that this was how it was going to end, as nothing more but yet another mistake. Another reason for him to hate you, and you him. Which is why you shouldn’t feel this melancholic. He sure as hell wasn’t. So why should you suffer? Yet it takes everything in you to drag yourself out of bed that day. 

The water is scorching hot against your skin, and you lean against the cool tiles as you close your eyes. But no matter how hard you scrubbed, how many layers of soap you covered yourself beneath. The feeling of his hands never went away. You almost thought you could see them, the faint outlines of his hands, all over your body. And as soon as you let your mind wander, even for just a second, you could feel him on you again. 

With a shudder you shake your head, promptly turning the water from flaming hot to an icy cold. The warmth reminded you of him, of the fire in his eyes and the burn of his touch. Cold water did not remind you of anything, that was better. 

Part of you had thought, almost hoped, that he would come to you, that he would beg of you to keep quiet, to not utter a single word about the night that had been. But he never did. Presentation day comes, and it passes again. It wasn’t very dramatic, in fact, it was like nothing had changed at all. 

Beomgyu showed up. He didn’t look you in the eyes when he took his papers from you. He didn’t look at you during the presentation, he kept his gaze ahead, fixated on the rest of your joint classes. He didn’t speak to you before, during, or after it. Not even a simple, ‘well done’ or even a ‘thanks’ when you’d offered to take his papers and throw them away for him. 

His indifference hurt the most. Perhaps the night had meant nothing to him. It had been just as you suspected, a way for him to forget. Forget whatever it was that had happened with Yeonjun that afternoon. — It had worked. Beomgyu seemed to have forgotten, but you remembered, you remembered far too much. 

Winter break began a mere three days later. 

A different kind of excitement lingered in the air. No matter how old you got, the joy of Christmas never seemed to dull people’s spirits. Almost three weeks to spend with family and friends, three weeks away from the tortuous hell that was college. Except you would stay right where you were. 

This would be the third Christmas you spent on campus. And while the school offered the remaining students to gather in the cafeteria for present unwrapping and long movie marathons, it was never the same as the warm embrace of home. — But home has long since lost its meaning to you. And Christmas no longer felt like a holiday. 

Taehyun had left as well, leaving you with nothing but your own thoughts to reconcile with. Suppose it was during the holidays you realized just how lonely you were. That hurt, of course. — You would spend your days doing mundane things, like reading, writing, drawing… Anything to get your mind off of the almost depressing reality you faced. It usually only worked for an hour or so. It was like a constant loop of distraction, one where you chased the comfort that slowly slipped from your fingers. 

But you were tired of chasing. 

⸝⸝

Your worn out sneakers make an awful squeaking noise against the polished floors and the sound rings in your ears. It’s all you can hear, which serves to quiet your thoughts for a moment, proving to be quite the distraction. 

The long hallways are eerily empty and quiet, it gives them an almost uncanny feeling. Campus no longer felt like campus, more like a shell of its former self. You knew that it would change as soon as break was over of course, but for now you were forced to make your way down the vacant halls all alone in order to get to the cafeteria and have dinner. 

It was for these exact reasons that the sudden tap to your shoulder made your heart drop. 

With a quick spin of your heel, you come face to face with the person you’d least expected to see. — His dark hair is nicely done, and his eyes glimmer with a kindness that two months ago would have had you doing a double take. Snow had melted on the shoulders of his jacket, and the tip of his nose was a bright red. An almost gentle smile is splayed across his rosy lips, and he gives a nervous chuckle. You almost didn’t recognize Choi Yeonjun. 

“Hey uh..” He scratches the back of his neck rather awkwardly, his eyes darting around the empty hallway. “You don’t happen to know if there’s someone with keys to classroom 017? - My girl forgot one of her books in there before the break you see..”  — You remain silent. You don’t think you’d ever had a decent conversation with Yeonjun, ever. It had all been mean and crude comments, nasty smirks and awfully childish pranks where you became a laughing stock. 

So to say that it felt a little weird to be approached by him like this, well that would certainly classify as an understatement. Your first instinct was to walk away, to leave him hanging like he deserved or perhaps you should belittle him on his obliviousness, did he not know all keys were held in the lobby? You refused an eye roll. — For the first time since your night with Beomgyu, a different kind of emotion blossoms within your chest. 

Anger. 

Your mind easily recognizes Yeonjun as the one who’d taken Beomgyu from you two years ago. It was him who you’d blamed for the way Beomgyu turned out, it was him who was at fault. It was him… He… 

You swallow, giving him a small nod, “Think there should be someone up by the lobby.” The polite words sting on your tongue, your fingers itching as they clenched and unclened. Yeonjun on the other hand, smiles, his grin stretching wide as he thanks you. What had changed? 

“I best head there then.” With his hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his jeans, he turns and begins his journey down the lifeless corridor. You watch him, eyes trailing over his figure for a moment before you call out. — “Hey, wait!” 

He pauses, turning back to you with raised brows. You march forward without giving yourself the chance to think it over once more. The sounds of you sneakers squeaking against the floors becomes almost deafening but you disregard it as you come to a halt before him. Straightening yourself up, you hold his confused but intrigued gaze. 

“You were friends with Beomgyu, right?” It wasn’t a question, but you phrased it like one anyway. The smile immediately falls from his face upon hearing your words, and for a split second, the old Yeonjun, the face you recognized in the halls fronted. His lips twist into a small scowl and his dark brows furrow. “What’s it to you?” His voice had grown sharp, almost snappy, perhaps you’d hit a sore spot. 

Something had happened. 

Yeonjun studies you for a moment longer, his brown eyes drinking in your frame. His tongue prods against the inside of his cheek, and he looks almost thoughtful. Then he huffs a short breath, it sounded almost like a laugh. — “Oh, yeah that’s right. I know who you are.” He stated it like it was an insult, like your name weighed heavy, and for all the wrong reasons. 

You can feel the confusion evolve on your face, he can too. “Why, I bet he’s told you everything. Bet he came running to you like a bitch.” Yeonjun’s menacing sneer is far from unfamiliar and your chest twists at his words. What was that supposed to mean? — “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It was true. You had no idea what had happened between the two of them. 

It’s silent for a moment, and Yeonjun studies you closely, as if searching for lies. When he finds none his shoulders visibly relax. He lets out a short breath, averting his gaze, as if the confrontation of the subject made him uncomfortable. — “He’s an immature bitch, what do you want me to say?” He doesn’t hesitate as his eyes snap back to you, this time with something akin to fury. 

“Couldn’t accept my girl so why should I accept him. – But come on now, he’s told you that already.” 

You don’t answer. Your fingers nervously fiddles with one another as your hands rest by your sides. What was he talking about? What was there for you to know. — Your silence seems to make the pieces fall together in his mind, finally assembling a large puzzle and Yeonjun’s face lights up. “Oh shit”, he huffs, “He hasn’t told you anything at all.” It’s a statement, one that makes your heart drop. 

He runs a hand through his dark hair, a near sinister grin playing on his lips. “Fucking hell.” — He glances down the hall, which was ironic considering how blatantly vacant it was, then he turns back to you. “I thought– I mean I”, interrupting himself only to clear his throat, Yeonjun looks to be fighting back yet another laugh. “I mean I thought you guys were…” 

Shaking his head, he drags the flat of his palm across half his face. “Fuck, I guess not. That’s sad. Really.” — You want to object, tell him that whatever assumption he was currently making was wrong. You wanted to tell him that you and Beomgyu were exactly that. But that would be a lie. And you’d had enough of those. 

“Do you not miss him?” 

The question takes him by surprise, and Yeonjun pauses as he glances back at you. For a moment he looks offended, taken aback by your bluntness. His lips curl into a small scowl, the one he used to wear in the halls, not anymore though, now it was reserved for only one person, Beomgyu. — “Don’t think that’s any of your business, no? – I mean you guys aren’t even..” He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth in a disappointing manner. 

“Just stay in your own lane”, he then adds, giving you a quick one over. “You’re better off without him anyway. – He’ll only bring you down with him.” 

Without another word, Yeonjun walks away. And you don’t stop him. For some reason, his words hurt. They were never directly targeted your way, so why did it hurt to hear him talk bad about Beomgyu? — Why did you feel the need to take on his pain as well, why did you feel the need to carry a burden that was never yours. 

The walk to the cafeteria feels even heavier than usual, and you barely get any food down that evening. 

⸝⸝

The days sort of blend together when you have nothing to do. They’re rolling on a loop, one after the other, and each one would follow the same mundane pattern. With only a day to spare before Christmas, you finally drag yourself off campus grounds, determined to at least make an attempt at lifting your spirits. 

Stores are beyond crowded, and you get shoved left and right as you swim your way through the large masses. God, had none of these people done their Christmas shopping with at least a little margin? — Supposedly not. 

You didn’t know what you wanted, hardly anything seemed to catch your eye. Still, you scour the near empty racks, even when nothing appeals. A small cry to your right diverts your attention in said direction where a young girl clings to her mom. — “I want this one!” She whines, her tiny feet stomping against the hard ground. Her mom sighs but eventually complies, shoving yet another toy in their already full cart. She looked exhausted.   

Your gaze lingers on the tired moms who rushed about with bags stuffed full, on the dads who checked off lists, on the workers who wiped sweat from their forehead as they tried to get through the long line of customers waiting to pay. 

All this commotion for a single day of the year. As much as the thought itself made you want to snort, there was also an undeniable sense of longing that filled your chest. You, too, wanted to rush about, you wanted to have to worry about what to get people for Christmas. You wanted to stay up late and wrap presents, you wanted to see the joy on their faces, hear their laughs. 

You didn't want to be alone. 

Walking was nice. But it becomes tiresome after a while. With your coat wrapped snugly around your body, you stroll the campus grounds absentmindedly. The cold air made your nose freeze and your cheeks sting, but you refused to return to your dorm just yet. There was something so comforting about being swallowed by the shivers running down your spine, or perhaps it was just numbing, like medicine, only it would never cure you. 

The frosty grass crunches beneath the sole of your shoes, and you trudge forward with heavy steps. There was but a thin and crisp layer of snow, one that could be erased with the swipe of your foot. So much for a white Christmas, you thought with a bitter scoff. — Your fingers are on the verge of falling off, but you clutch the small bag in your hand anyway, swinging it back and forth in tune with your casual strides. 

You pass a most familiar bench, now coated in a thin blanket of white but undoubtedly the same. Without thinking twice you come to a halt, feet melting into the ground as they force you in place. Furrowed brows press against your narrowed eyes as you peer over at the very same spot where you had seen Beomgyu sitting not long ago, all by himself. 

Everything seemed to remind you of him, even when all you wanted was to forget his mere existence. You look away, blinking the hurt from your eyes as you glance toward the entrance leading back inside, leading to warmth and to safety. You should go, you should go there now. But it’s impossible to get yourself to move forward, your legs refuse to carry you and you feel your knees buckle. 

With one harsh shake of your head you pull yourself from the small trance. And finally you move, but it is not the entrance you approach. — The old bench squeaks under your weight, and with the help of a gloved hand you dust the worst snow off. 

Sigh. Everything looked different now, yet it was as though nothing had changed. You close your eyes, and for a second you could almost imagine him as he sat beside you, sharing a laugh and perhaps even melting the cold away with your hand in his. The image pains you just as much as it warms you. 

Had it not been for the cold, the moment out on the bench might have even been tranquil. But the harsh winds soared through your body, chilling you to your core as it forced you to huddle in on yourself. You suck in a sharp breath, the cold air slicing down your throat as you force your almost numb lips together. 

Arms wrapped around yourself and fingers digging into your forearms, you’re so busy keeping the cold out that it takes you almost a whole minute to recognize the soft patter of frozen grass crunching beneath feet. But when the sound does reach your ears, your head jerks in its direction. 

There, on the other side of the once grassy field, without as much as a uniform or school bag in sight, is Beomgyu. You’re taken aback by his casual appearance, much so that you almost completely disregard his even more unusual visit. But only almost. — What was he doing here? He had a lot of people to spend Christmas with, no? What business did he have on campus? 

You shift on the old bench, the squeaking noise of the wood however, catches his attention. You swallow when his dark eyes find yours, even from across the field. For a split second you think that he might just keep on walking, to continue his act of nonchalance, as if nothing had ever happened between the two of you, and that you were crazy for even suggesting such a thing. 

But Beomgyu’s gaze doesn’t harden, nor does it lessen. In fact his expression remains completely impassive, though his actions speak for him. He puts one foot before the other, and it’s not until he’s gotten about halfway across the field that you realize where he’s headed. Your stomach drops as you watch him push his hands into the pockets of his jeans, his shoulders slumped as he approaches. Your gaze flickers to the bag in your hands, swallowing nervously as you tune in to the sound of his footsteps nearing. 

Beomgyu doesn’t say anything when he sits down beside you, and you listen to the squeaking noise the bench makes in protest to yet another element of weight. You peer at him through the corner of your eye. His hair was shorter, the dark strands no longer reached the nape of his neck but stopped just below his ear. Even the bruise on his face had begun to fade, now it was a mere light purple, with splotches of red coating its edges. Lastly, the tip of his nose, which was an uncharacteristic shade of pink, one you found to be almost endearing. 

Your attention travels to the clothes he wore, the jacket looked expensive, undoubtedly more than you could afford even if you saved all your money’s worth. Funnily enough, he doesn’t seem to care for it as his fingers lazily pick at its seams. Beomgyu took a lot of things for granted, you could tell. — Things you could only dream about. 

The silence surrounding you is thick, hugging you tight and keeping you from moving. Your lips part as you attempt to break said silence, despite how dry your throat feels. Beomgyu however, is quicker than you as he heaves a sigh. 

“Why are you out here?” He asks, his gaze still fixed far ahead as his fingers give his jacket a small break. You had expected a ‘hello’ perhaps even a ‘how are you?’, maybe you would even have been content with a sharp glare or a ‘fuck off’. But Beomgyu leads the conversation in a completely different direction. 

When your silence becomes deafening he turns to you. His eyes are filled with something you can’t quite place, something unlike his usual self. He searches your face, as though looking for clues with the help of a magnifying glass. “It’s cold”, he then adds, as if the obvious could not have been made any clearer. 

You scoff, shaking your head as you fiddle with the bag in your hands. “I’m dressed for it”, you mutter without looking at him. Beomgyu hums, and for a second it sounds as though he’s about to say something else, only to stop himself. — The thick silence returns, this time it feels almost claustrophobic. You wanted to ask him about that night, you wanted to ask him about Yeonjun, you wanted to ask him about the two of you, you wanted to ask him…

“Why are you out here?” Your quiet whisper is nearly swallowed by the whirling wind but Beomgyu manages to catch it as his attention jumps from the naked trees and back to you. There were a thousand thoughts swimming within his eyes, things that were just waiting to be said. So why didn’t he? 

“It’s Christmas”, you add, watching as his lip twitches in amusement. — You could not remember the last time you’d made Beomgyu laugh. He shakes his head, tongue prodding against his cheek. “It is”, he nods in agreement, his gaze dropping to the bag clutched in your hands. “Present?” He asks to which you slowly nod. 

Pulling your lip between your teeth, you exhale a deflated sigh, “A stupid one.” You didn’t want to admit that you had bought it for yourself, considering the fact that it would be the only gift you were to receive this year, again. It’s quiet after that and you desperately hoped he would drop the subject again. 

Beomgyu shrugs, “Isn’t that the whole point of Christmas?” When you only frown, he continues, “I mean, wrapping things up and giving them away.” He scoffs as he runs a hand through his dark hair, “Using gifts as condolences, it’s quite materialistic don’t you think?” 

You wanted to argue that it was not, but as your gaze flickers over the expensive clothes he wore, you realized that he didn't seem even a tad grateful for them. Perhaps they had been just that, condolences. — Your thoughts are interrupted by Beomgyu as he shifts on the bench and his hand reaches into the pocket of his coat. 

“I’m not much better”, he murmurs when pulling out a small box. It fit perfectly in his palm, enveloped in silver wrapping with a tiny bow on top. You eye the tiny present with intrigue, your stomach flipping at the sight. — He inhales sharply as he twists the box between his fingers. “Reflecting, repenting all that bullshit..” He mumbles as his brown eyes meet yours, “Suppose that’s what I’m trying to do here.”

Confused, you open your mouth to speak but before you can get as much as a word out, he hands you the gift. His eyes look near pleading as he silently begs for you to accept it, as if it would mean you accepted his apology. Perhaps it would take the guilt off his shoulders if you did. — The frown on your face only grows, but you set your own bag down before reaching a hesitant hand out to grasp the present. 

It feels light in your palm, almost weightless. “Open it”, Beomgyu encourages beside you, his warm breath ghosts across your cheek and you hadn’t even realized just how close he was. — Shrugging your mitten off, your free hand carefully plucks the lid from its container. You can feel his gaze on you, watching intently as you gently tug the rustling paper aside. 

Your breath catches in your throat and your eyes widen tenfold when they fall on the familiar piece of leather. It was the same warm brown, and the contrastingly dark navy blue. The bracelet which you had cherished for so long, the one you had clung onto in the hopes that his matching part would still exist somewhere. 

“I…” You breathlessly begin but Beomgyu quickly cuts you off. “I.. I’m sorry, yeah, that’s what I was…”, he trails off, shrugging as he averts his gaze sheepishly. It’s weird to see him like that, it reminds you of a time long ago, a time before everything. 

The reality of his words slowly sank in, Beomgyu was apologizing. 

You had spent countless sleepless nights, tossing and turning in bed as you prayed and hoped for a time like this. Was it selfish for you to wish for things to be the way they had been? You wanted to bring back someone who no longer existed, a version of him that was but a mere memory, remembered and kept alive only by you. 

Yet here he is, doing just as you had hoped, and for so long. But you hate Choi Beomgyu now. That was a fact. And he hated you too. So this didn’t make sense, no, it wasn’t right. He shouldn’t be apologizing. He should have brushed it off, acted as if nothing had ever happened and given you a shoulder cold enough to bring back the ice age. 

“This is wrong.. — I mean, you can’t just-” Biting back a frustrated groan, you twist uncomfortably in your seat as you avoid his reluctant gaze. You can sense his confusion, and it only fuels your frustration. Did he not understand that he couldn’t just undo everything with a simple ‘sorry’ and a gift. 

Beomgyu swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing against his throat. “What?” He asks, his gaze dropping to the untouched gift still in your hands, “Do you not like it? — I can get you something else.” 

You shake your head, “It’s not about the gift, Beomgyu.” — He frowns, “Then what is it?” 

“Everything.” 

You’re looking at him now, your heart hammering in your chest as you fight your nerves. “It’s everything, okay? You, me–” You motion between the two of you, “Yeonjun, the presentation, us.” It wasn’t just something you drew a line over, something you blurred and pushed back in the depths of your mind as you tried to forget it. 

“But, why does any of that matter?” He wonders with a confused frown, his bottom lip slightly jutted out as he regards you with caution. You have to hold back a scoff, your fingers curl around the small box, knuckles turning white as you resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Because it does! You might not get that, but it hurt me.” 

Beomgyu groans as he runs a hand through his short hair. “Fuck, I already apologized what more do you want from me?” His anger matches yours in a way that instantly reminds you of just how bad you could be together, of how deeply he made you feel. — “What difference does it make?” You snap, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill. 

“Everything.” 

“It changes everything, alright?” His chest heaves when he exhales, his eyes flaring with the same fire they had that night, the night when he wasn’t thinking straight. He probably wasn’t right now either. — “Because”, he swallows, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he regains his composure. “Because I don’t know how else to change things.” 

He drags a hand across his face, like he didn’t know what else to do with himself. “You act like I’m the biggest asshole to walk this earth and next thing I know you’re kissing me. It confuses me and it angers me. But even when you’re mean you’re nice, and I hate how it makes me feel. — I hate that it’s you I want to go to when shit goes wrong, and I hate that I did. I hate how you let me use you that night.” 

He’s barely taking breaks to breathe in between sentences, and you catch the subtle flush to his cheeks as he speaks. “I fucking hate the fact that you’re always on my mind, much more do I hate that I never even try to will those thoughts away.” Beomgyu bites his bottom lip, chewing on it for a good five seconds before letting it go as he sneaks a glance your way. “But I…” He sighs as he finally comes to a conclusion after his long battle with himself. — “I don’t hate you. I want to, but I can’t” 

You swallow, your hand still hugged by the mitten feels clammy and sweaty. Your heart races and your mind jumps between his jumbled words with little coherence. You don’t think you’d ever heard him say so many things at once, and certainly not like that. His usual mean and crude self had completely drained from his system and left was a shell of the Beomgyu you thought you knew. 

It was then, you think, that you realized Choi Beomgyu wasn’t so different from you after all. Your gaze drops to the small gift still in your hands. What had once weighed so little now felt heavy in your grasp, like you were holding all of him, all at once. The bracelet fills you with hope, something you’d long since given up on entirely. 

You glance toward him. His jaw is clenched tightly as his narrowed eyes peer ahead, intent on avoiding you it seemed. His apology was complete and total shit, his reasoning even worse. But Beomgyu was quite shit at most things. So were you. — Your gaze lingers on his pink nose, bitten by the cold. Your own nose stings too, for the both of you had been out here far too long. 

In the pale winter air it became clear. Beomgyu was lonely, just as lonely as you. The slump of his shoulders and the defeated look on his face surely matched your own. You imagine how the two of you must look from afar. It would have to be quite a pitiful sight. How could one be lonely in the presence of someone else? Only two jackasses must manage something like that. 

But you didn’t want to be a jackass anymore, and neither did he. — So you shift on the bench, ignoring the squeaking noise it makes as you turn to Beomgyu. “Do you want to watch a movie?” 

⸝⸝

It’s awkward at first. 

The soft rustle of bed sheets, the untouched bowl of popcorn between you, the flimmer coming from the Tv screen as a cheesy romcom movie plays. Beomgyu, who was usually more than at home in your dorm, was now stiffly sitting on his side of the bed, his back straight as he pressed against the headboard. He appeared almost nervous. 

You weren’t faring much better, in fact your hands were dripping sweat as they remained tightly clasped together. Neither of you had touched the large bowl of popcorn, and they had long since gone cold. — Despite the freezing temperatures outside, your small dormitory seemed to be burning up. 

None of you had said a word since the movie began playing, and before that you had been communicating with fast and hushed murmurs as you avoided each other’s gaze. — Never had you imagined that you would be spending Christmas with Beomgyu, much less on the small and squeaking bed in your dorm. 

Did this mean that things were starting to look up between the two of you? 

Your heart practically leaps to your throat when you feel him shift on the mattress. Everytime he moved, even if it was just a mere centimeter, you tensed up. But the dramatic beating of your fluttering heart was only increased when he suddenly appeared even closer to you. His body feels warm, scorching hot inside the already airless room. 

He doesn’t say anything, and when you steal a glance his way, you find him watching the Tv. His expression would be relaxed if it weren't for the subtle twitch of his jaw when he felt your eyes on him. — Your attention drops to his hands, they were placed on the bed either side of him, his fingers moving absentmindedly against the sheets as he fiddled with them. 

Your lips pulled into a small smile, and oh how you had missed smiling. 

Beomgyu frowns when you suddenly climb off the bed, leaving behind an empty spot that radiates your sweet scent. He looked as though he was about to say something, one of his hands reaching out before stopping himself again. — He watches as you reach for the same bag you’d been clutching so tightly out on the bench, the one that had been completely disregarded in the end. 

You clear your throat, standing awkwardly by the edge of the bed as you hold it in two hands. “I…” Your throat feels parched and your lips dry as your tongue wets them, “I want you to have this.” You reach the bag out toward him and Beomgyu's frown only deepens. — “But it’s yours..” He murmurs as his eyes flit between you and the bag in your hands. 

“I want you to have it. — Besides”, you shrug, “You’re not the only one who’s been an idiot here.” 

His brow raises at your words, a small grin tugging at his lips as he gratefully accepts the token of an apology from you. You take the moment of him peering inside the bag to retake your position next to him on the mattress. Eagerly you watch as his frown deepens, only for it to ease up as he realizes what he was looking at. 

“This is..” He begins, one of his hands reaching into the bag as he pulls out the small bracelet. Beomgyu’s jaw slacks as he turns the cool and brown leather in his fingers, thumb caressing the warm and red embroidery. “You…” He cuts himself off, whether that was because he did not know what to say next or did not dare to. 

Your gaze flickers to the small box placed on your bedside table, perhaps you weren’t complete jackasses after all. 

“Why did you…” He swallows, and though he never finished his sentence, the question swirling within his eyes was obvious. — You shrug, nibbling on your bottom lip as you regard the bracelet in his hand. “It just… felt right.” 

There was no other way to explain it. For as you had trudged forward on tired feet, with heavy and droopy eyes, you had stumbled upon the very thing that had haunted you for so long. 

It has been a small stand, hardly making itself known amongst its competitors. The handmade jewelry however, immediately caught your eye. You recognized the leather, eyes widening even further as they caught glimpse of the warm red braided into it. 

Your stomach had dropped, just the way it would on a rollercoaster before its drop. That was undoubtedly the very same bracelet he’d worn, the one that had wrapped around his wrist so delicately, a constant reminder of what you had once lost. 

“That one,” You had said as you pointed to the accessory. Why? Because it felt right. Words would never even come close to describing the pull you felt, the immense need to have it. — But now, as you watch it lay in Beomgyu’s open palm, his lips parted as he regards the very bracelet, you understand perfectly. 

Things were exactly how they were supposed to be. 

Beomgyu’s hand suddenly drops, and he twists in his seat as he turns to you. The touch of his fingers against your cheek makes your eyes widen, the subtle reaction not passing him by unnoticed as a sly grin pulls across his lips. “What are you doing?” Your brows knit together, the soft confusion on your face only amusing him further. 

His breath is warm against your lips as his own hover above them. The tip of his round nose brushes against yours, the small contact sending a jolt of electricity through you. “What I should have done from the start”, he murmurs before pressing his lips to yours. 

⸝⸝

The agonizing noise of violent video games fill the open spaced living room. Continuous shots are fired, easily drowning out the sound of the doorbell. Completely immersed in his game, Yeonjun doesn’t look up until he feels the cushion beneath him shift as somebody takes the seat next to him. He doesn’t turn his head and look, he already knows who it is. 

“How did you get in?” He asks in a somewhat monotone voice, his eyes still glued to the Tv screen in front of him as he taps the controller in his hands. Beomgyu, who occupies the other half of the cough, shrugs as he spreads himself out on the soft furniture, just like he had so many times before. — As though nothing had changed. 

“Your girlfriend let me in”, he simply states as he, too, tunes in on the violent game. Yeonjun on the other hand frowns, his face morphing into confusion as his thumbs slow down on the buttons. At last, the game comes to an end and he tears the headset from his ears. — “Oh, so you talk to her now?” He retorts, his tone snappy and sharp as he tosses the control onto the coffee table. 

Beomgyu bites the inside of his cheek, his gaze still fixed to the ‘New Game’ flashing on the screen. “I do”, he hums, fingers absentmindedly toying with one another. Yeonjun scoffs as he throws a glance in the direction of his supposed friend. — “Any particular reason?” He queries to which Beomgyu swallows. 

There’s a momenteral silence following his question as the two of them remain quietly seated on the couch. Neither of them move, the air feeling heavy yet filled with a sense of anticipation. Finally, he clears his throat as his anxious fingers come to a halt. “I’ve been acting like an asshole..” Beomgyu murmurs as he pushes a hand through his now short hair. 

Yeonjun looked as though he was biting back a snarky remark, his gaze flickering between the other and his own hands. “No shit”, he mumbles under his breath, unable to hold the comment back as he sucked in a sharp breath. His gaze jumps from his hands and over to Beomgyu’s as he nervously fiddles with the seams of his jeans. He can’t help but notice the oddly familiar bracelet around his wrist. 

It takes him a good minute, but soon the pieces fall into place. His lip twitches as his eyes stray by the bracelet. — “I’m sorry”, Beomgyu quietly adds. It seems apologies were becoming a new habit of his. It took Yeonjun by surprise, making his eyebrows rise on his forehead, all the while Beomgyu avoided his gaze. 

“I haven’t been too good either, I suppose.” Yeonjun reluctantly admits as he gives a small shrug. Beomgyu doesn’t reply but still nods as he purses his lips. Another thick silence follows, it’s not uncomfortable, but it’s not one either of them want to linger in. Yeonjun is the first to break it when he clears his throat. 

“I missed you man”, he says, his words light and filled with sincerity. 

Beomgyu finally finds himself looking at his friend, his eyes widening just a fraction. “Yeah?” He asks, the ghost of a grin playing across his lips. Yeonjun scoffs as he leans further into the couch, “Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it get to your head.” But it’s already too late, for Beomgyu was smirking as he leaned over to grab the discarded controller. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it”, he drawls as he presses ‘New Game’. 

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My Rooks Part 1.: Valrys Ingellvar and Canelo de Riva

Questionnaires behind the break

Valrys Ingellvar

1: Where in the Thedas is your Rook from? Nevarra City. However, they were likely born somewhere in the Deep Roads from Orzammar to Nevarra, but they have no way of knowing.

2: What is your character's alignment? Neutral Good

3: Race and class? Dwarf Warrior

4: If your Rook was a companion, where would they be found? Does this mean where in the Lighthouse? They'd have picked up and relocated that mirror of transformation first off. They'd also likely set up shop on the second floor of the laboratory. It looked like there was enough space up there for a dwarf sized bed.

5: What emotion did they usually pick? Affable.

6: What companion are they platonically close with? Their best friends in the Veilguard were Emmrich and Taash

7: Romantically close with? Lace Harding (somewhere in the background proud cries of "That's my wife!" can be heard)

8: Who are they suspicious of? In the Veilguard? None of them. They consider them all like family. They are the kind of person to give benefit of the doubt at first. But once you lose their trust, it is gone forever. They were and are still a little suspicious of Morrigan

9: Does your Rook get along with their chosen Faction? Yes, very much. They love each and every Mourn Watch member, especially their chosen parental figure VORGOTH and loves Myrna like a little sister

10: Are they proficient in playing any instruments? Nope. Not only that, they can't carry a tune to save their life

11: Weapon of choice? A maul. They really liked the one named Lawrence.

12: What is their orientation? I don't know if I have the right word for it. They're genderfluid but only interested in women (they love women so much). So I'm choosing to use sapphic.

13: What are their thoughts on killing? Is it a necessary evil or do they enjoy it? They like fighting but not necessarily killing. However, they understand they live in a dangerous world and it's necessary sometimes. They will try to come to a non-violent solution whenever possible.

14: What hobbies does your Rook have? They like fashion and history. And the lack of finding the clothes they want that fit them right (this is me being mad that even the robes in the game had pants) had them teaching themself how to sew and make clothes. It's my headcannon that in the future when they and Lace get married, they're making their own gown.

15: What NPCs do they like? Which one's do they dislike? I've already mentioned Myrna and VORGOTH but they also like Viper and Antoine and Evka. It's not that they have anything against the other faction leaders, they just wouldn't want to hang out with them much. They really liked talking weather with Karash.

They did NOT like Shathan. Yes, they understand she was struggling to understand Taash's identity struggles and did the best she could, coming around in the end. But they did not appreciate her telling them that "Taash was rarely interested in men" while looking right at them (and this is when they were dressed in the most femme outfit I had access to at the time, and a full face of makeup. They were serving looks) and never apologized for that. That whole conversation made them want to break things.

And they really hated Mythal (only time I've fought her so far).

16: Do they have a favorite creature in the Thedas? They love nuggalopes. It is a life dream to own one for a mount and or pet

17: Do they enjoy life as an adventurer? Yes. They love to learn. My plan for Valrys and Lace post-game is to go on journeys to find and compile Dwarven history into a compendium

18: What would your Rook be doing if they weren't recruited by Varric? Killing every Venatori that dared entering the Necropolis and helping VORGOTH with the hauntings they discover

19: How do you think they'll meet their end? By trying to reason with the wrong person instead of just fighting them

20: Would they side with Solas or fight him? They reluctantly sided with him. But they weren't happy about it.

21: What is your Rook's favorite ability? Deadly ground and Reaper. That Spirit Storm ultimate was amazing

22: What languages is your character fluent in? Other than Trade? Nevarran and somewhat fluent in Orzammar Dwarven but that's self-taught and hard to practice back home (they found a book)

23: What do they do after an absolute crisis? Smash so many things.

24: Does your character believe in the afterlife? Yes. They grew up around spirits. They know there is more.

25: What specialization best represents your Rook? Reaper no question...However, if berserker had been an option....

26: What animal best represents your Rook? An elephant: Strong, smart, protective of their own, great memory and generally pleasant unless you wrong them them they're gonna remember forever and make sure future generations know about it.

27: What was their life like before the events of Veilguard? As much as they liked it and working with the watchers, the Necropolis was starting to feel claustrophobic

28: Is your character the de facto leader of the party? Or do they consider someone else to be the leader? Yes. They were trusted with the job and they take it seriously. They have enjoyed bringing everyone together and helping people

29: If you could choose a different faction for your Rook, which one would they have joined and why? They'd probably enjoy being a Veil Jumper even though they're not magical. The history they'd get to learn about would fascinate them. They would absolutely refuse to wear those outfits. "No. They do nothing for my figure. I look like a lump of mud. Absolutely not"

30: What's your favorite thing about your Rook?

Aside from the fact they're just so good looking? I love how they just let themself feel whatever emotion it is they're feeling. They repress nothing. They're highly emotionally intelligent.

---------------- Canelo de Riva

Where in the Thedas is your Rook from? Born in Seleny, moved to Treviso at approx.16

2. What is your character's alignment? Hard to say. Likely a true neutral of the "heroic neutral" variety.

3. Race and class? Elf rogue, veil ranger

4. If your Rook was a companion, where would they be found? In the Wolf's Den

5. What emotion did they usually pick? Stoic

6. What companion are you platonically close with? He was bff's with Davrin and Harding (yeah I know. Why did I choose to hurt him like that?)

7. Romantically close with? Lucanis

8. Who are they suspicious of? He didn't trust Solas, Illario, and Invenci right from the get go

9. Does your Rook get along with their chosen Faction? For the most part. He is close with Viago and the real reason he was sent away from Treviso was for his safety. Canelo suffered a psychotic break thinking he'd found Antaam member responsible for killing his siblings and just went ham on them. Wasn't even aware of what he'd done until Viago told him. He likes Teia a lot as well. They do each other's hair.

10. Are they proficient in playing any instruments? Nope.

11. Weapon of choice? Longbow specifically the dauntless greatbow he named Jugular (his preferred place to shoot a target)

 12. What is their orientation? Bisexual greyromantic

13. What are their thoughts on killing? Is it a necessary evil or do they enjoy it? A job is a job, and being an assassin pays better than being a prostitute did.

14. What hobbies does your Rook have? He enjoys making his own arrows, including the knapping of arrowheads when he can find appropriate stone. He likes dancing and making beads for hair or jewelry too

15. What NPCs do they like? Which one's do they dislike? As stated above, Viago is very important to him, like an older brother, Teia too. But he likes Tarquin quite a lot, and they both grew up in a lower socioeconomic class. He is to no surprise no big fan of Illario. "I don't care if he's like your brother, mio cuore. He tried to kill you, had you imprisoned in a place where they tortured you. I am never going to like him." He is also no fan of the First Warden

16. Do they have a favorite creature in the Thedas? Dracolisks. He thinks they're awesome. "Lucanis, if you were ever thinking about getting me an extravagant gift...get one of these."

17. Do they enjoy life as an adventurer? He is the kind of guy who would have been happy earning an honest living as a hunter and continuing to raise his little brother and sister and being left alone, but life had other ideas. Adventuring really isn't for him.

18. What would your Rook be doing if they weren't recruited by Varric? He'd love to say still working for the Crows, but he is fairly sure Viago would have made him find other work outside Treviso. It was clearly not doing his mental health any favors, and the city was slowly killing him

19. How do you think they'll meet their end? Likely the way most Crows seem to. In a power grab

 20. Would they side with Solas or fight him? Oh he fought him. Every tragedy in Canelo's life could be traced back to Solas giving Corypheus that orb.

The orb explodes and opens the breach

Demons pour out of fade rifts

His parents are killed by demons on their way to Treviso to collect a shipment of spices to sell at their store.

Canelo is too young and doesn't have the brain for running the store, and it goes under. He and his two year old twin siblings lose the house and end up living in a hunter shack in the Tellari Swamps near Seleny. They do okay for about 2 years

Zenzera gets sick, and Canelo has to sell everything but the clothes on their backs and steal the rest of the gold to get them to a special healer in Treviso.

He cannot find a safe job that will let him bring a pair of four year olds along with.

Ends up becoming a sex worker to feed them, but never makes enough to get them off the street

A noble who had been tossed from the brothels for being too violent with the workers their decides to just quit paying for it and assaults Canelo.

This noble that Canelo kills in self-defense was Viago's contract. This results in Canelo joining the Crows.

The three of them are doing okay for a while.

Then the Antaam, who broke away from the Qun after the events of Tresspasser (Thanks again, Solas) invade Treviso.

Antam raid the market where Zenzera and Zafferano are shopping with some fledglings and are killed.

Canelo falls into a spiral of depression, PTSD, and heavy drinking until the above mentioned psychotic break happens and he snaps, killing those two dozen Antaam and wrecking the big plan that had been in the works.

ERGO- SOLAS AND HIS PERPETUAL FAILURES RUINED CANELO'S LIFE. THEREFORE, THERE WAS NO PEACEFUL RESOLUTION TO SOLAS' STORY.

 21. What is your Rook's favorite ability? Hurricane of Blades and Storm's Path

22.  What languages is your character fluent in? Trade obviously, but Antivan and Rivaini with conversational knowledge of Qunlat and Tevene. He's fairly good at picking up languages. Davrin and Bellara teach him Elvhen when they can.

23. What do they do after an absolute crisis? Go hide on the island with the laser that is floating above the Lighthouse Courtyard and have a good breakdown where no one can see it.

24.  Does your character believe in the afterlife? He wants to, but he's afraid that if it's real, he'll go somewhere other than where his family is. Or if he finds them, they will hate him for the choices he made in life

25. What specialization best represents your Rook? He took Veil Ranger, because it was bow focused, and that suits him just fine

26. What animal best represents your Rook? Jaguar- Quiet until they're not, death from above, solitary, master of tactical retreat (Canelo's tactical retreats come when his emotions are too big for him and he needs a safe place to hide and process them)

 27. What was their life like before the events of Veilguard? See the answer to number 20. It wasn't all bad. The first few years with the Crows were great. For the first time in over 5 years they all had enough to eat. When Canelo became a full Crow, he quickly earned a name for himself for being quick and efficient from far away, his contracts never even knowing he was there. Once the Antaam invaded though, it all fell apart

28. Is your character the de facto leader of the party? Or do they consider someone else to be the leader? Yes, but he'd really rather not be the leader. Someone has to do it though

29. If you could choose a different faction for your Rook, which one would they have joined and why? He'd make a good Shadow Dragon.

30. What's your favorite thing about your Rook? He's resilient. He's been served a tragedy buffet and yet, still going. Plus, underneath the stony and or sad exterior he's a lovable person who will lavish his loved ones with affection. Even ones who would REALLY rather he didn't (Viago).

Rook Questionnaire

inspired by @cassieuncaged's BG3 Character Development Questions but for Rook instead!

1: Where in the Thedas is your Rook from?

2: What is your character's alignment?

3: Race and subclass?

4: If your Rook was a companion, where would they be found?

5: What emotion did they usually pick?

6: What companion are you platonically close with?

7: Romantically close with?

8: Who are they suspicious of?

9: Does your Rook get along with their chosen Faction?

10: Are they proficient in playing any instruments?

11: Weapon of choice?

12: What is their orientation?

13: What are their thoughts on killing? Is it a necessary evil or do they enjoy it?

14: What hobbies does your Rook have?

15: What NPCs do they like? Which one's do they dislike?

16: Do they have a favorite creature in the Thedas?

17: Do they enjoy life as an adventurer?

18: What would your Rook be doing if they weren't recruited by Varric?

19: How do you think they'll meet their end?

20: Would they side with Solas or fight him?

21: What is your Rook's favorite ability?

22: What languages is your character fluent in?

23: What do they do after an absolute crisis?

24: Does your character believe in the afterlife?

25: What specialization best represents your Rook?

26: What animal best represents your Rook?

27: What was their life like before the events of Veilguard?

28: Is your character the de facto leader of the party? Or do they consider someone else to be the leader?

29: If you could choose a different faction for your Rook, which one would they have joined and why?

30: What's your favorite thing about your Rook?

[little-fae-hero]

Linked Universe, Hero of the Winds

My headcanons/aus

Art by Atro Avis

Colored Version.

Long talk/ideas under the cut. Warning for general game violence and kidnapping. (Note: I may add stuff overtime but I will never delete from the list).

Twilight. Sky. Legend. Hyrule. Four. Time. War. Wild.

Wind (Wind Waker/Phantom hourglass). Other Nicknames: The Sailor, Pirate, The baby (hates this), Guppy (hates this as well), Island boy, Ocean child.

Hero’s Title: Hero of the Great Sea, Hero of the Winds, Hero of the Great Sea, Holder of the Wind Waker

God that has claim over his soul: Hylia (for the wisdom to actually find the pieces of the triforce)

Part of First’s soul: Childish Wonder (smallest piece).

History:

Link lived on an island with his sister and grandmother, and had a peaceful life like everyone in the great sea. He was given a green tunic when he turned 12, much to his annoyance. However his sister Aryll was kidnapped on his birthday, taken by a bird monster and he joins up with a pirate by the name of Tetra to get her back.

Through trying to get his sister back he learns that the Gerudo King Ganondorf is back, hunting for the Triforce, the Red king of the seas asks Link to take up the mantle of the hero. To which the young boy does, to make the seas safe for his family. He later learns the man’s reason, a place for his people; however he still tries to kill the hero and the princess. They actually succeed and plan to start another hyrule.

However This plan gets put on the back burner when Tetra and Link run across a ghost ship and Tetra goes missing, causing Link to start another adventure. Link get’s the phantom hourglass and a fairy and they go through the palace of the ocean king. He saved the great seas from the parasite known as Bellum and was finally able to go back home.

Death: Unknown…

Interesting Stuff/Headcanons:

has a sailor mouth from living around pirates. Others don’t let him swear (like grandma) but Time does.

The best thing to heal him is his grandmother’s soup. The chain learns how to cook it when they visit the Great Sea.

Link has a good sense of direction, to the point of it being scary. He doesn’t even need a map; it's like the wind tells him where to go.

Wind deals with a lot of self-doubt, he wasn’t born with the triforce of Courage, he had to find it and put it together unlike Tetra. So, he often feels like a fake.

He looks up to Time, since he was the hero of Time who once defeated Ganondorf, plus he also doesn’t treat Wind like he will break at any moment.

The others have a habit of jumping in to protect him, mainly because he reminds many of them of themselves of when they first started their adventures.

Wind actually prefers sandals since he lives on an island, but that’s not considered ‘proper shoes for combat’.

Wind cannot control his expression, whether in sneaking around or in combat, he cannot keep a poker face, which of course makes him terrible at keeping secrets.

Link has no concept of ‘personal items’ he grew up sharing stuff with his sister and then a pirate ship, everything is fair game, unless said otherwise or you're wearing it.

Anything he finds is worn as jewelry until he can get back home, to which the treasure is given to Aryll and Grandma.

He is actually really good with seagulls, I mean it’s not like his sister Aryll, but he can easily feed them without them getting startled.

He’s a great swimmer; however, his legs can get tired from a lot of walking, especially rocky paths, he doesn’t tell the group this.

No concept of ‘oh that’s dangerous’ will happily be shot out of a canon for the laughs.

Wind doesn’t have any piercing even though he wants to, any jewelry is limited to necklaces and ear wraps. 

Letters are a big comfort to Wind, as sometimes he panics that Aryll is missing, or grandma is sick again. The letters remind him that everything is fine.

Wind will fall into his big brother persona; he immediately will fuss others despite bringing the youngest of the group.

Besides looking up to Time, Wind also looks up to War, he doesn’t know why.

Koroks seems to really like Wind, he considered them his friends, Time doesn’t like the Koroks staying around or Wind going after them.

He cannot stand the cold because of growing up on an island. He’s in multiple layers or stealing others' scarves to keep warm.

Wind loves music, especially sea shanties, you will not know peace if one gets stuck in his head.

He knows how to shoot guns; he has one from Tetra and knows how to make ammo for it. It’s just very, very loud and he doesn’t like it.

He is slowly getting use to them and even started to build interesting items of his own.

He will correct anyone if they refer to Tetra as Zelda, since she prefers the name Tetra.

Wind loves fruit sense you can only really get them on islands, they are his favorite thing to snack on.

Wind sometimes realizes how stupid enemies can be, meaning he will sneak around them when others are planning something.

He is the most likely to do his own thing in battle and give the others heart attacks in the process.

The soul piece of the hero’s spirit is the smallest in Wind, it was the childlike wonder of the god, something the god couldn’t have a lot of considering his first life.

Because of this Wind doesn’t get the full burning in his chest that others might. But he does get the call to adventure.

[willowsnook]

halfway to always pt. 2

quinn hughes x sharks!reader

pt. 1 here

tags: @hockeybabe87 @enjoymyloves @freyathehuntress @onlyreadz @how-what-why-huh @1loverc @stormsies

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

It had been a couple of months since your trip out to the lake and you had thrown yourself into work, trying to forget about the oldest Hughes' brother who had left an imprint on your heart. So far it was going well, mostly because Will and Macklin hadn’t been there to harass you about it. They both went home for the rest of summer break and were just now coming back for training camp. 

You had plans to meet them at their place when they both got back, and after finally logging off for the day, you made your way over. 

“Y/N!” Will yelled as he opened the door, quickly pouncing on you. “I missed you so much.” 

“I missed you too,” you said into his chest. “My life has been so boring.”

“Of course it has,” Macklin said, coming from out of his room. “We are the most important people in your life.” 

“I’m about to replace you though,” you teased, setting down your stuff in the kitchen. “I meet the new guys tomorrow.” 

Both of them glared at you, making you giggle. 

"You know I'm kidding," you reassured them, hopping up onto their kitchen counter. "So, tell me everything. How was the rest of your summer?"

They launched into stories about family trips and training regimens, Will showing you pictures on his phone while Macklin demonstrated some new workout move he'd learned. You smiled, realizing how much you'd truly missed their chaotic energy.

"What about you?" Will asked finally. "Did you do anything fun after Michigan?"

You shrugged. "Just work, mostly. Helped with rookie camp prep, went home to see my parents for a weekend."

"That's it?" Macklin frowned. "Please tell me you at least went on a date or something."

You rolled your eyes. "No, I did not go on a date.”

You pulled out a bottle of wine from your bag, uncorking it while Will leaned against the counter, watching you with a suspicious expression. "So... have you talked to Quinn at all?"

Your movements faltered for just a second before you recovered, reaching for glasses in the cabinet. "A little. Just texting here and there."

It wasn't exactly a lie. You and Quinn had exchanged messages sporadically since the lake trip—casual check-ins that carefully avoided any mention of what had happened between you. The last text had been over a week ago, a simple "good luck with training camp" from you, followed by his "thanks, you too" reply.

"Just texting?" Macklin pressed, raising an eyebrow.

You sighed, pouring three generous glasses of wine.

“Look,” you started. “We had fun at the lake. But it was just the lake. I’m back to the real-world again.” 

“But you guys are so perfect together,” Macklin complained. 

“I was with him for less than a week,” you argued back and Will rolled his eyes. 

“Love at first sight,” he said and you snorted, even Macklin letting out a little laugh. 

“I’m busy with work anyways, so it’s going to be okay,” you said firmly. You turned around to grab your phone and both boys shared a look, an idea already forming. 

Step 1: Investigation Time

“Did you see Quinn’s post?” Will asked while you were both out on a morning walk before he had to be at the facility. 

“I did not,” you replied, amused. The boys could not leave the idea of you and Quinn alone which was adorable but like you’d told them earlier: there wasn’t anything to it. You had kissed a lot of boys in your lifetime - it didn’t always have to mean something. There was no reason to even let your mind entertain the idea. 

“You made it,” he said, trying to contain his excitement. “It’s a summer recap.”

Leaning over his shoulder, you looked at this specific picture. It was of Quinn at the grill and you next to him, holding a plate of food. It was a sweet picture, and you made a mental note to screenshot it later to keep for memories. 

“Very nice Will,” you commented and he beamed. 

“You too look so good together,” he said and you snorted. 

“Not giving this up?” You teased and he shook his head. 

“You were so into him on the trip,” he said. “I want to see you happy.”

“I am happy Will,” you said. “I don’t need a man to be happy.” 

"I know," Will said, more serious than you'd expected. "I just think you guys had something real. And maybe it's worth exploring."

You sighed, watching the morning light filter through the trees as you walked. "Even if there was something there, what would be the point? He lives in Vancouver. I live here. Both of us have demanding careers that keep us in those places."

"Long distance?" Will suggested.

You laughed, but it came out hollow. "For what? A connection we felt after knowing each other for a few days? That's not enough to build something on."

Will fell silent for a moment, considering your words. "You know, I've never seen you light up around anyone the way you did with him."

The observation hit you harder than you expected, and you quickened your pace slightly. "I'm not having this conversation anymore."

"Fine," Will conceded, jogging away. “Then I’m not buying you coffee.” 

“You promised,” you complained, jogging after him. 

Meanwhile, Macklin and Jack were working on Quinn.  

“Hey man what’s up?” Quinn said, answering his phone. 

“Just wanted to call before the season started,” Macklin said. 

“Getting a little nervous?” Quinn asked. 

“I feel like the pressure is way up this year for me,” Macklin admitted. 

“It feels like that for everyone their second year,” Quinn told him. “Especially because of how well you did last year. Just stay focused. You have good people supporting you.”

Macklin saw his segway and took it, “Yeah I do. I don’t know what I would do without Will and Y/n. You remember her?”

Quinn rolled his eyes before answering, “I know what you’re doing.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Macklin replied, feigning innocence. “Just wondering if you guys had talked since the lake.” 

“I’m sure you can ask her that,” Quinn said, avoiding the question. 

"I'm asking you though," Macklin pressed.

"We've texted a bit," Quinn finally admitted, his voice carefully neutral. "Just checking in."

"That's it? Just checking in?" Macklin asked, clearly disappointed.

Quinn sighed, running a hand through his hair as he paced around his living room. "What do you want me to say, Mack? That I think about her all the time? That I wish things were different? None of that changes the reality."

"Which is?"

"You know which is. She's in San Jose. I'm in Vancouver. We both have careers that keep us in those cities."

"People do long distance all the time," Macklin countered.

Quinn let out a humorless laugh. "Based on what? A week together? A kiss? That's not enough to build something real on."

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Macklin spoke again, his voice sincere. "I know it's none of my business, but Y/n is important to me. And I haven’t seen her act like that around someone literally ever. I’m just floating the idea that maybe you could figure something out.” 

“We’ll see,” Quinn said shortly before hanging up.

Jack and Luke had flown to Vancouver the week before the season started to see their oldest brother. It was a short trip, but they played some rounds of golf and had plenty of time to relax before they wouldn’t see each other for a bit. 

The night before they were heading back to New Jersey, they were out to dinner when Jack started his subtle inquiry, already proud of himself for not bringing up y/n yet this weekend. 

“So, you guys play the Sharks in a couple of weeks?” Jack asked casually and Luke instantly snorted. Quinn looked up from his phone, giving his brother a pointed look. 

“That’s usually how a hockey season works,” Quinn shot back. “Conspiring with Macklin now are you?”

Jack huffed, “I’m just making conversation. Just wondering if you have any plans to see anyone after the game or anything.” 

“Not as of right now,” Quinn replied honestly. “We haven’t really spoken since the beginning of training camp.” 

“Hmm,” Jack replied. 

Quinn paused, setting his fork down and giving his brothers a serious look. "Look, I appreciate that you guys care, but this isn't helping. Y/n and I had a connection, yes. But sometimes timing just doesn't work out."

"But—" Jack started.

"No," Quinn cut him off firmly. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. Not everything has a neat resolution, okay?"

The finality in his tone silenced both his brothers. Luke shot Jack a warning glance, and the subject was dropped for the remainder of dinner.

Step 2: The Setup

Will's phone buzzed with a text from Jack: "Operation reunite stubborn idiots is a go. Quinn just landed in San Jose."

Will nudged Macklin, showing him the message. They shared a conspiratorial smile before turning their attention back to you. You were sitting across from them in the players’ lounge, a few hours before the game tonight. 

“So,” Will cleared his throat and your head snapped up. “What are you doing after the game?” 

Your eyes narrowed, “I was planning on just going home but i’m getting the feeling that you are going to drag em to something.” 

“Toff rented out this bar for his birthday tonight,” Will said. “So you should come because it’s his birthday and you know him.”

You did know Toff, you knew every player but you weren’t really that acquainted with him. “Did he ask that I be there?” 

“Just come y/n,” Macklin said exasperated. “You need to get out of the house.”

“Fine,” you said, rolling your eyes. You missed seeing the boys bump each other’s fists under the table, turning your attention back to your phone. 

The Canucks steamrolled the Sharks, but the boys still had a good game, so you were pleased by that. You had changed in your office from your business clothes to just a plain white tank top and jeans and now were waiting by the players’ entrance. 

“Hey stranger,” a voice called out and you froze. Quinn was giving you a small smile as he walked towards you and you couldn’t help but grin. 

“Hi,” you greeted him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He held on to you for a second too long and your heart was racing at the physical contact. 

“I’m looking for Will and Macklin actually, have you seen them?” Quinn asked he pulled back. 

“Funny, I’m looking for them too,” you said, and the pieces started to click together. Both of your phone buzzed at the same time and you looked down to see what Will had said. 

WS: Sorry guys, we caught a ride with someone else. I’m sure you can carpool to the bar tho. Bye!!!

You groaned as Quinn shook his head. “Relentless,” you muttered. 

“Tell me about it,” Quinn mused. “Guess I’ll follow you.” 

You chatted about the game as you walked to the car, Quinn filling you in on how the team was looking so far and you telling him about the new rookies. The way conversation fell so naturally it was like you were at the lake just last week. 

"So," you finally said as you pulled into the parking lot, "how long are the boys going to keep this up?"

Quinn chuckled, running a hand through his still-damp hair. "Knowing Jack, probably until one of us gets married."

You laughed, though the comment sent an unexpected flutter through your chest. "Will and Macklin are just as bad. They've been not-so-subtly bringing you up for weeks."

"Same with Jack and Luke," Quinn admitted. "I think they're all in a group chat about it."

As you walked toward the bar entrance, Quinn's hand brushed against yours—perhaps accidentally, perhaps not. Neither of you acknowledged it, but seeing how packed the bar was, you slipped your hand into his, not wanting to lose him on the way to wherever Will and Macklin were. His hand tightened around yours and it was the first thing the boys looked at when you emerged from the crowd, both lighting up. 

You dropped Quinn’s hand as you reached the table, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“I waited for you guys for 20 minutes,” you said. 

“Sorry y/n, Eklund insisted we come with him,” Macklin said innocently. Quinn snorted from behind you, shaking his head. 

“Whatever, I’m getting a drink,” you muttered, leaving them all behind for the bar. 

Quinn watched you weave through the crowd toward the bar, then turned to fix Will and Macklin with a stern look. "Subtle, guys. Really subtle."

Macklin shrugged,. "Did it work though?"

"Did what work?" Quinn asked, though he knew exactly what they were getting at.

"Come on," Will groaned. "You two were holding hands!"

"So I wouldn't lose her in the crowd," Quinn explained, though the excuse sounded weak even to his own ears.

Macklin and Will exchanged knowing glances. "Right," Macklin drawled. "That's definitely it."

Quinn sighed, leaning against the table. "Look, I appreciate what you guys are trying to do, but it's complicated."

"It's really not," Will argued. "You like her, she likes you. What's complicated about that?"

Quinn ran a hand through his hair. He really was starting to wear down when it came to that question. Seeing you again had reignited what he felt at the lake, and he was running out of excuses to at least not give it a try. 

You came back a little later, wordlessly handing Quinn a beer before sitting down next to Will. Quinn ended up getting pulled away by some other guys he was friends with, and your table was joined by a couple of WAGs that you were somewhat friends with. You didn’t really hang out with most of them, but the ones who sat with you were around the same age as you, so it was an easy friendship. 

A couple of hours went by and you were caught up in a conversation with Carl Berglund when you felt a presence behind you. You looked over your shoulder to see Quinn, looking between you and Carl, his jaw tightening. 

“Hey man, good to see you,” Carl said reaching out his hand, unaware of the tension. 

“You too,” Quinn said shortly, shaking it. Carl looked between the two of you before smirking and raising his beer. 

“Nice talking to you y/n, i’ll see you later,” he said before walking to join another conversation. You turned to Quinn amused. 

“What was that about?” You asked. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said nonchalantly, looking anywhere but you. 

You raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing on your lips. "You're a terrible liar, Quinn Hughes."

He sighed, finally meeting your eyes. "Fine. I didn't like seeing you with him."

"With Carl?" you asked, genuinely surprised. "We were just talking."

"I know," Quinn admitted, taking a swig of his beer. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

The jealousy in his voice sent a thrill through you that you tried to ignore. You stepped closer to him, lowering your voice. "You don't get to be jealous when you won't even admit there's something here."

His eyes darkened as they held yours. "Who says I won't admit it?"

Your heart skipped a beat. "You've had months to do something about it."

"So have you," he countered.

The admission hung between you, charged with everything left unsaid from the summer. You set your drink down, suddenly feeling too warm.

"Want to get some air?" you asked quietly.

Quinn nodded, following as you weaved through the crowd toward the back exit. The cool night air was a relief after the stuffy bar, and you took a deep breath, leaning against the brick wall.

"So," you started, looking up at the stars rather than at him.

"So," he drawled out. “I can’t get you out of my head.” 

You were surprised by the admission, turning to face him fully as he stared into your eyes. 

“I could say the same thing,” you admitted quietly. Neither of you said anything for a bit, just taking in one another’s presence. 

“What do we have to do to make this work?” He asked, breaking the silence. 

You sighed, leaning back against the wall before answering truthfully, “I don’t know.” 

He moved in front of you, bringing one hand to rest on your waist and your breath hitched at the contact. 

"I know it might be ridiculous," Quinn murmured, his thumb tracing small circles on your waist, "to feel this strongly about someone I've spent so little time with. But I can't stop thinking about what could happen if we just... tried."

Your heart raced as he leaned closer, his forehead almost touching yours. "What are you suggesting?"

"I'm suggesting we stop making excuses," he said, his voice low and certain. "We play each other four times this season. I have the All-Star break, you have holidays. There are bye weeks and off-days. We have phones. We have FaceTime. Vancouver to San Jose is a two-hour flight."

You closed your eyes, letting his words wash over you. The practical part of your brain wanted to list all the reasons why this was complicated—the distance, your careers, the logistics—but another part of you, the part that had been daydreaming about him for months, was tired of being practical.

“We can try,” you finally said and a small smile broke out across his face. He inched his head closer, pressing his lips against yours in a sweet kiss. Your hand travelled up to his hair, pulling him deeper into you and he pressed you harder against the wall as his mouth moved against yours. When you finally pulled apart, breathless, his eyes were dark with wanting.

"I've been thinking about doing that again since the lake," he admitted, his thumb tracing your lower lip.

You smiled against his touch. "Me too."

The door to the bar swung open suddenly, spilling light and noise into the alleyway. Will stood there, his eyes widening as he took in the scene before him.

"Finally!" he exclaimed, pumping his fist in the air before disappearing back inside, presumably to tell Macklin and you groaned, resting your head against Quinn’s shoulder. 

“I’m sure i’ll get a cryptic text from Jack soon,” Quinn muttered and you giggled, bringing your lips up to his once more. 

“Worth it.”

[muniimyg]

𐙚₊˚⊹ boxer!jungkook (4) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

series m.list // taglist closed

boxer jk x neuro doctor oc

miscommunication

awkwardness & flirting ? some tension

note: see ya at the end :’)

//

jungkook barely stirs when you burst in. 

as the door swings shut behind you, he braces himself for a lecture from nam joon… because that’s who he’s expecting. he’s half-awake, body stiff, head heavy with exhaustion.

lazily, his eyes flutter open. when he registers who’s standing at the foot of his bed, he lets out a quiet scoff and tries to roll onto his side.

“shit,” he mutters, wincing.

you don’t say anything at first.

instead, you just walk in quietly, checking his chart, flipping through the details you already know. without a word, you help him sit up. you place your hands on his back, gentle but firm. if his body wasn’t so fucked up right now, he’d probably be melting from your touch. 

it’s been so long. 

jungkook exhales sharply but doesn’t pull away.

“bruised ribs and minor concussion,” you murmur, scanning his injuries. “your knuckles are busted… again. your wrist is slightly sprained—”

“you should’ve seen the other guy,” he jokes, managing to crack a smile. 

you stare at him blankly. 

he takes it as rejection and redirects. 

jungkook swallows, licking his lips. “where’s namjoon? he’s my doctor.”

“i’m a doctor too.”

“not my doctor.”

“jungkook—”

his lips curl, something sharp in his tone. his words almost come out like a hiss. “come on, doctor ___. don’t you have a kid to fix up with doctor yoongi? what are you doing here? i’m fine.”

your brows furrow instantly. 

“jungkook, that was nearly two months ago. i haven’t seen you in so long and this is how you come back to me?”

suddenly, his head spins.

come back to me?

his breath catches, the words cutting through him before he even has the chance to process them. they sink beneath his skin, settle into his bones, cling to the spaces between his ribs like they belong there. like they’ve always belonged there.

what did you mean by that?

did you mean anything at all?

or was it just something you said—careless, fleeting, unintentional?

this is unfair.

the way you speak to him is so fucking unfair.

your words are so soft and familiar. it’s laced with something he can’t quite name and instead it coils around him, pulls at something deep in his chest… something he’s been trying to ignore.

something he can’t ignore.

his fingers twitch slightly, gripping at the thin hospital blanket like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. his knuckles turn pale.

he wants to ask you to say it again.

wants to hear the way it sounded in your voice one more time.

but he doesn’t.

he just sits there, the weight of your words pressing down on him.

silence.

“i hate seeing you like this,” you say quietly.

jungkook huffs, looking away. 

“i know it looks bad right now… but i’m not quitting boxing.”

you nod. “i never asked you to.”

another stretch of silence, thick and heavy.

then—

“… i’m not dating yoongi,” you say. your voice is even, but something in it sounds tired. “it was just a case, jungkook. if you’re curious about history, we did residency together… not to mention, he’s also engaged.”

jungkook keeps his face blank.

“i never asked.” his tone is light, too light, like he’s trying to sound unaffected. “but good to know. i appreciate it.”

you study him for a second.

his expression is composed, but there’s something guarded about it. something that makes you wonder if you should have left it at that. but for some reason, you don’t.

“you could’ve though… you know? you could’ve asked.”

the words slip out before you can stop them, and now you’re just talking—filling the silence, filling the space between you.

“i wasn’t going to hide anything from you. there’s no reason to. despite only seeing you when you’re injured, i like seeing you… and the flowers… thank you for the flowers,” you add, softer this time.

and maybe you should stop there. maybe you shouldn’t tell him that you dried out the flowers to preserve them… maybe you shouldn’t tell him how you sent pictures of it to your friends and got teased for two weeks straight. maybe you should let the conversation settle, let him respond—let him say something.

but he doesn’t say anything.

instead, he just nods, barely reacting. it’s like he’s listening but not really hearing you.

so you give up.

“y-you… you need to recover. namjoon was paged and he'll be here in a minute… honestly, i saw your name and i had to check on you myself—”

jungkook exhales a laugh—low, rough.

“why?”

you sigh, exasperated.

“why do you think?”

his eyes flicker to yours, and for the first time since you started talking, he hesitates.

then—

“that’s nice—ha. are you flirting with me, doctor ___?” he muses, tilting his head. “i almost feel better.”

and the thing is—he means it.

you exhale through your nose, trying to suppress a smile.

“yeah? i guess i am.” you pause, then add, “sorry, i’m bad at it.”

“it’s okay,” he chuckles. “it’s cute.” 

the admission lingers between you. 

it’s awkward, but not in a bad way. like stepping into unfamiliar territory, like learning how to be around each other in a way that isn’t built on injuries and hospital visits.

you hesitate, just for a second, before reaching for his hand.

it’s warm. solid. steady. you squeeze once, offering something—an attempt, a bridge, a connection.

jungkook stares at it.

doesn’t pull away.

doesn’t hold on, either.

just watches. like he’s trying to decide if he should let himself take whatever it is you’re offering.

“i’ve had a crush on you for months,” he admits, almost absentmindedly. then, with a slight grin, he adds, “i know the plan was to get beat up until i could make you feel bad enough for me and convince you to go on a date… but this shit fucking hurts.”

you laugh. 

he laughs. 

then he struggles.

you immediately move, hands steadying him, eyes scanning him for any new signs of discomfort. he lets you fuss over him, lets you run your fingers through his hair to check for swelling, lets you linger longer than necessary.

“i really like you,” he breathes. “i don’t know what to do about it anymore.”

you nod, lips tightening at his confession. just as you open your mouth to respond to him, your pager beeps. you pull away a bit and check it.

“it’s urgent,” you murmur, pulling back completely. “i’m so sorry, i have to go back to my patient—“

“go.”

jungkook hums, missing holding your hand already. 

you don’t want to turn away… but you do. then, you turn right back and plead with him.

“stay overnight for observation. i’ll be back as soon as i can. seriously, jungkook… you need to recover—”

“i have a match in three months.” his voice is firm, resolute. “i only really have three weeks to recover.”

your brows knit together instantly. “that’s insane, jungkook.”

“but it’s not impossible,” he grins, ignoring the feeling of a rising disagreement. “i’ll recover well. i’ll win the match.” his voice dips slightly, eyes catching yours with something unreadable.

then—

“come watch me win.”

you inhale slowly.

you don’t answer right away. instead, you let the words settle between you, feeling their weight press against your ribs. you tell yourself you’re hesitating because you don’t want to give him the wrong idea. that you’re keeping your distance because it’s the right thing to do. but the truth is—

you don’t know how to be around him without feeling like you’re standing too close to something dangerous. regardless if it’s this… ethic and moral debate you have ongoing in your head or the simple fact that maybe… just maybe… you finally recognize love again.

and it’s different this time.

this time, it comes bruised and concussed.

it comes with a cheeky smile and words that make your heart flutter for months… it comes and it goes—and you spend endless hours waiting for him to walk through those doors again.

for a moment, you think about what it would be like if you stopped resisting. if you let yourself feel the way he makes you feel. if you let yourself want him, the way he so easily, so recklessly, seems to want you.

you test it.

“i… i don’t see patients outside of this hospital.”

the words leave your lips before you can stop them. you say them because it’s easier than saying what you really feel. easier than admitting that he doesn’t feel like a patient to you. not anymore.

not now.

now, he looks different. feels different. talks different.

there’s something unspoken in the way he watches you—something that makes your pulse slow, then quicken again. his smile fades into something quieter, something unreadable.

then—

“then don’t come as a doctor.”

his voice is lower now, deliberate, like he’s choosing each word carefully. like he wants you to hear them. really hear them.

your breath catches.

“come as something else.”

his gaze flickers over your face, dipping to your lips for just a second too long. your stomach tightens. your fingers twitch at your sides.

“come as someone else.”

it’s softer this time, but it sinks deep.

then, at the very last second, just as the space between you threatens to collapse in on itself, jungkook reaches for your hand. his fingers brush against yours first—barely, just enough to send a shiver up your spine—before he takes it fully, his grip warm, steady.

his thumb strokes over your knuckles.

his voice is quiet when he speaks again, but it’s the kind of quiet that demands to be heard.

the air stills.

“come to be with me.”

[pythoness94]

Need to talk specifically about these tags. I always hear people hating on Mike for not having romantic feelings. And while we all probably know byler is endgame at this point, even if Mike didn't like Will, that is no reason for any of the characters to hate him.

Heres something the Fandom doesn't get that I think the show portrays really well, you don't owe someone your love and they don't owe you yours. Steve loved Nancy, but Nancy didn't love him back. She didn't owe it to him to stay in love, she didn't owe him shit. Robin may have loved that girl but that girl wasn't in the wrong for not being in love with her back. Joyce doesn't owe Lonnie shit, that's why she throws him back on her ass. And here's the part where the Fandom struggles most,

MIKE, despite being Wills best friend since kindergarten, DOESN'T OWE WILL JACK SHIT.

And here's the kickers, THATS THE POINT. WILL KNOWS THAT.

Will KNOWS that Mike doesn't need to fall in love with him, he isn't owed it by some mystical power of the universe. He knows that the universe doesn't owe him anything just because hes been given a bunch of shit to go through. Despite what some of this Fandom thinks, just because poor Will Byers is targeted doesn't mean he automatically gets a get out of jail free card. Will knows that because of the circumstances he is in, he doesn't get to pass go. he doesnt get to collect 200, he gets to sit there and try to cope and theres not much he can do about it.

Mike is his own person and has much as Will wants to mope about it, he can't force Mike to love him back. That's the point of this. Will is so upset, he's so angry because hes been dealt a bad hand and no matter how hard he tries, he just cant find a way to get over his crush. The point of the story is for Will to realize that mike loved him all along, that the only thing holding them back is that they were both to scared and angry to do anything about it. They let the fear win when they knew that they shouldn't have.

So what's all this yapping for? Well, I see some people in this Fandom talk like Mike owes it Will to do this. Or that Mike owes it to Jonathan or the Byers, or that he owes it to the party even. Fact of the matter is, Mike is his own person and when you write Mike, you have to write it like that. Don't write Mike with the intention of him ending up with Will, don't have that be your only goal in mind when you put the pencil to the page. He isn't some barbie that is made specifically to be Will's little boyfriend like I've seen some posts treating him. He's a person, he's the heart of the party, he's dating El, he loves Will, and he's scared. He's scared and he doesn't know what to do when everyone looks at him for answers. When Will says that he could lead them, he's touched but he's hesitant. He doesn't know what to do. If Jon were to cut Mike off, not only would that be a disgrace on Mike but one on Jon too.

Jon knows, more then anybody, that you can't make someone like you. Constantly isolated, parents divorced, bullied, unloved, and his first relationship being Nancy who was dating Steve at the time of him gaining his crush, he knows. He knows that you can't make someone love you, he knows that you can't make people fall in love AGAIN. So when he comforts will, he's comforting him with the idea in mind that even if Mike doesn't love him, it's none of their faults. If he were to confront Mike, he wouldn't be pissed or prickly, he would be understanding. He would be a bit cold that Mike was treating Will like that but at the end of the day, the actions of 5 months of change don't outweigh over 10 years of good friendship. A friendship that Mike and Jon bonded over almost dying for. They know each other in a way that mist don't.

Anyways, thanks for coming to my Ted talk lol.

Chat, I desperately need to know how to write Jonathan's and Mike's relationship without Jonathan hating Mike. I FUCKING hate it when I see that trope, Jonathan would never hate Mike for simply not reciprocating his brothers' feelings. That's stupid has hell. Mike is basically Jonathan's second brother, he knows Mike, he's known him all his life. He's seen how sweet Mike is to Will, he was there when Mike starting sobbing while Will was possessed. HE WOULDN'T HATE MIKE! He would be CONCERNED! But all the fics and character analysis I'm reading for the two always paint Jonathan as hating Mike, so you see my dilemma here >:(

[johanna-517]

"Special and unique"

(CHAPTER 3)

The following days after your ninth birthday, you spent time locked in your room again, still quite sad and disappointed with how things had turned out.

You tried, you really did... You tried your best. That day, you tried to dress up enough to be a little cute, you went to pick Tim up yourself, and you waited until late at night for Bruce so he could come and eat cake with you. But in the end... Nothing you did was enough. You ruined things with Tim, and your father still didn't give you any of his time, even on your birthday.

What did you do wrong? You... You just wanted them to look at you with something other than anger or disgust. You just wanted them to be a real family to you.

Because... Mom's gone, your aunt and cousins aren't here either, you feel... alone. You want someone by your side, someone to tell you everything will be okay, that they love you and will take care of you. Someone who can comfort you every time you cry again because you miss your mother. But Bruce doesn't do that, much less Tim. Now you know that... You can't expect warmth from them; maybe they're too different from a little girl like you who's just looking for comfort and affection.

"Okay..." you sigh softly, finally starting to get out of bed. You can't stay locked up here forever, right? Even if you still feel a little bad, that doesn't mean you can't get better, even if it's just a little.

As you held Toti in your arms again... Your gaze focused on the mirror in the room, observing the reflection of your own appearance. You moved a little closer.

"Ah... Why do I keep looking like this? I really do seem like a nuisance, just like Tim said," you muttered to yourself, your voice trembling slightly as you looked at your messy appearance in the mirror... And now, you focused on looking at the reflection of your own eyes.

"Mis ojos... ¿Tal vez son demasiado raros? Son... ¿Feos? " You shuddered slightly at the thought, a shiver of fear running down your spine. "Maybe... Dad and Tim don't like my eyes? That's why they don't like me..."

You gritted your teeth slightly, not wanting your eyes to be the reason they don't approach you, but if they are... You should fix it then.

Without thinking twice, you grab a pair of scissors and... You start cutting some of your hair, creating bangs long enough to hide your eyes a bit. And, since you definitely don't know much about this, you just do your best, but your cut definitely isn't perfect.

"This... It'll be okay, right?" you smile to yourself as you look in the mirror. Now, your eyes are a little more hidden by the strands of hair covering your forehead, and a bit of your eyes too. So... Maybe now Dad will have time to talk to you, right? Maybe now Tim won't look at you with anger and disgust.

Shortly after your new change, feeling happier you decide to leave your room, running to the kitchen with the intention of showing Alfred your new change.

However, the bangs didn't allow you to see very well, so without realizing it, you ended up colliding with someone.

He gently takes your arm, keeping you from falling. When you look up, you find yourself staring into his face: he has beautiful blue eyes and black hair. You're thrilled when you recognize him—he's Dick, Bruce's oldest adopted son. You finally get to meet him.

You apologize for bumping into him, smiling brightly. You try to say more. You wanted to tell him your name and say you're happy to meet him, but then... He just pulls away from you, tries to smile kindly, and tells you he's busy, and that you can talk another time.

You watch him leave, feeling a pang of disappointment in your chest. But you shake your head, trying to shake off that feeling of disappointment. He... At least he was nice, right? He smiled at you and said he'd talk to you later, which means he doesn't dislike you. It means he doesn't dislike you. Excellent! That's a good start, you thought to yourself.

You went to Alfred and told him about your 'pleasant' first encounter with Dick. You told him excitedly, and he smiled, glad that at least Dick hadn't completely ignored you upon meeting you.

A few more days passed. Now you seemed happier, and you left your room more often, walking calmly through the mansion's long hallways regularly. This was because you realized that by going out and walking through the mansion, you were more likely to run into a family member and thus be able to get closer to one of your siblings.

Plus, after your first encounter with Dick, your hopes of getting along with the family members increased. You believed that if you tried, they might like you. Then, Tim and Bruce might forget your mistakes from past encounters and be nice to you too, and you'd be able to get along with everyone here... Your biggest dream.

Today, it almost seemed like there was a meeting in the kitchen, there were Bruce, Alfred, Tim, Dick and Barbara.

Alfred had mentioned Barbara to you, telling you that she was close to the family, so you might see her here at the mansion sometime soon. And that day was today.

You sigh softly, putting on your best expression as you walk into the kitchen. As you enter, Alfred smiles at you, and he introduces you to Barbara.

She just nods slightly, seeming completely uninterested and indifferent to you. You tense a little at the realization, and then you look over at the others, and realize that Tim, Dick, and Bruce aren't paying attention to you either. They're talking amongst themselves, completely ignoring you, as if you weren't even there... Alfred notices this, but before he can say anything, you stop him.

"Okay, Alfred... I have to go, I'll go back to my room" you smile slightly, trying to look calm as you turn and leave the kitchen.

When you reach your room, you close the door behind you. You sink to the floor, your eyes filling with tears once again.

Why... Does it seem like no one cares about you? Why do your brothers and your dad seem so indifferent toward you? They don't even look at you, not even once!

You grit your teeth. This time, what you feel is anger... Bruce doesn't see you. You're his daughter, but in the time you've been here, it seems like you don't even exist to him. Tim ignores you too, not to mention how hostile he was last time, even pushing you away. And Dick... He promised he'd talk to you later, but it's been days since that, and even when you saw him at the mansion again, he kept saying the same thing: "Sorry, kiddo. I'm busy. We can talk another time." No matter how much you insisted, he would just... Look away and say goodbye to you with a fake, kind smile on his face. And now... It seems Barbara will be as indifferent to you as they are.

It's not fair... You just wanted them to look at you at least once. And all you get is... Disdain, false promises, being brushed aside like you're invisible. You're literally just a little kid looking for her 'family'... But maybe they don't even see you as part of their family.

So... When you look out the window, your eyes observe a small monarch butterfly entering your room, flying calmly until it reaches you, landing on one of your hands.

Your expression softens at the sight of the butterfly, remembering something...

You were six years old, you were in the garden of your house with your mother, she was watering the plants in the garden while singing a song, her voice was always so sweet.

As you walked behind your mother, the warm sun shone down on both of you while colorful flowers adorned the small garden.

Then, a monarch butterfly flew in, and stopped right over your nose, at first you let out a little yelp of surprise, scared by the unexpected butterfly on your nose.

Your mother turned around when she heard you, and seeing your scared expression because of the butterfly she couldn't help but laugh slightly, but she quickly approached, gently removing the butterfly from your nose.

"Tranquila... No tengas miedo, es solo una mariposa, no te hará daño" She said, comforting you with a sweet and soft tone, gently caressing your cheek.

"Además... ¿Sabías que ese tipo de mariposas solo se acercan a personas buenas? Se dice que se acercan únicamente a niñas tan lindas como tú, y que esas mariposas siempre están ahí para guiar y consolar" your mother explained, making you smile instantly.

You remember what she told you that time years ago. Seeing the butterfly brings a small smile to your lips.

Definitely... You know what your mom said about those butterflies was just to make you feel better, but... Right now it seems like what she said was true. Because... How is it possible that a butterfly like this was also here in Gotham? And it literally flew into your room, as if it had been looking for you all along.

"Mamá dijo que era algo bueno tener cerca a una linda mariposa como tú" You murmured softly, your expression friendly as you watched the tiny butterfly in your hand.

For some reason, the presence of that butterfly in your room brought you great relief, even more so because it reminded you of your mother. You almost completely forgot how you felt about the way you were treated here, focusing solely on the presence of that butterfly.

You talked to her for a bit, as if she could hear you. After a while, you finally said goodbye and let her fly out the window.

You were still smiling as you watched her leave, you really hoped to see her again soon.

That night was the first night in this mansion that you were able to sleep well, without crying, without nightmares, without worry, without pain... Without sadness.

For some reason, the relief and comfort you found in the presence of the monarch butterfly was quite similar to the relief and tranquility that only one person could bring you: your mother.

❦: (Here is the third chapter, I hope you liked it :D).

[rafesbuzzcutseason]

chasing city lights

chapter 28 - the final countdown

synopsis: you move to new york to start fresh, hoping to find comfort in the city’s atmosphere. that’s when you meet sarah cameron, where she takes you to a concert and you catch sight of the lead band member, rafe cameron. it only takes a moment for you to realize you’re captivated by him. as sarah helps you navigate your new life in the city, you start to get pulled deeper into rafe's world—the music, the fame, the chaos. the more you get to know him, the more you realise that rafe is not just the rock star he seems to be. he’s wrestling with his own demons, and the last thing he needs is someone like you getting close.

masterlist

cw: language, fluff

listen to wildflower by 5sos for this chapter!

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

the final countdown to the grammys had officially begun. the entire city buzzed with anticipation, and so did you.

a week ago, you weren’t sure where you stood with him. now? now you were spending every day together, waking up next to each other soaking in the last moments before the chaos of the awards.

"morning, rockstar," you murmured, rolling over to face him.

he groaned, burying his face into your neck. "too early for that."

you laughed, running your fingers through his messy hair. "you’re going to be a grammy-winning rockstar soon. better get used to it."

rafe peeked up at you, a sleepy smirk playing on his lips. "you think i'll win?"

"i know you will," you said confidently.

"well then i have you to thank if we do win." he smiled at you. "you're the whole reason flatline came about in the first place."

you smiled, rolling onto your side to face him fully. "oh, so now you’re admitting i’m your muse?"

rafe chuckled, propping himself up on one elbow. "i never denied it." his fingers traced lazy circles against your hip. "you were always the reason behind the music. still are."

your heart fluttered at his words.

you swallowed. "how are you feeling about it all? the awards, the pressure?"

he exhaled deeply, running a hand over your arms. "it's a lot. i mean, we’ve played arenas, done the whole tour thing, but this? this is different. the boys can't believe it either." he met your gaze, something vulnerable flashing in his eyes. "feels like the whole world’s watching."

you reached out, threading your fingers through his. "they are. and they love you."

his lips twitched into a small smile. "not as much as i love you."

your breath caught at his words. it wasn’t the first time he’d said it since you’d let him back in, but every time, it felt just as intense, like he meant it more with each passing second.

you squeezed his hand, your voice softer now. “i love you too, rafe.”

his expression softened, relief, adoration, maybe even a little disbelief. he pulled you closer, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips.

when he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours. “say it again.”

you smiled, brushing your fingers against his jaw. “i love you.”

he exhaled. “god, i missed hearing you say that.”

you cupped his face, tilting his chin so he had no choice but to look at you. “then don’t give me a reason to stop.”

his grip on you tightened, his voice a quiet promise. “never again.”

for a while, you just lay there, wrapped in each other, the world outside forgotten.

rafe’s phone buzzed on the nightstand, and he groaned, reluctantly reaching for it. one glance at the screen and he let out a dramatic sigh. “press junket. label’s breathing down our necks.”

you laughed, nudging him. “well, go. win them over.”

he smirked, rolling onto his back, dragging you on top of him. “i'd rather stay here and win you over. again.”

you rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. “you already have.”

his hands trailed down your sides. “yeah?”

you leaned down, kissing him again. “yeah.”

"okay" he signed, slowly getting up. "i'll see you after?"

"i'll be here."

"good" he grinned, "see you soon baby."

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

a/n: lord this chapter took ME LONGGGG anyway i can't believe this story is almost coming to an end i'm gonna sob

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[writer-freak]

Twst birthday headcanons

Characters: Leona, Vil, Idia, Lilia and Cater

A/n: So today is my birthday!!!! And I wrote some headcanons for my favorite twst boys and how they celebrate with you <3

Leona Kingscholar

You wake up with Leona's arms around you, sunlight barely shining through the curtains because he made sure they were drawn shut the night before. He’s not a morning person, and if it were up to him, you wouldn’t get out of bed at all.

"Tch. You’re already awake? Go back to sleep, it’s your birthday. No one’s expectin’ you to be up this early." He grumbles, pulling you closer.

Eventually, after lots of coaxing (and maybe a few bribes in the form of kisses), you are able get out of bed.

Leona’s not the type for big parties, but he does something thoughtful in his own way, like making Ruggie organize you a romantic picnic in the botanical garden. He doesn’t even complain when you take loads of pictures with him.

The day ends with you lying in bed the same as that morning, Leona holding you in his arms, muttering one last “Happy birthday, herbivore,” before drifting off to sleep.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil insists that you start your birthday right, which means waking up in silk sheets, with a a perfect breakfast that is perfect in taste, aesthetic and nutrition because you only deserve the best.

He personally supervises every step of your morning routine, making sure your skin is flawless and that you’re as radiant as ever. "It’s your day, and I won’t have you looking anything less than perfect."

You’re going to to be pampered the entire day (even more than usual). A shopping trip? A spa day? A private dinner with an exclusive menu? He’s thought of everything.

His gift is something incredibly personalized, maybe a fragrance he designed just for you, or a limited edition item from your favorite brand.

At the end of the night, he sits with you on the balcony, sharing a quiet toast to another year together. "My darling, every day with you is a gift. But today, the world itself should celebrate you."

Idia Shroud

The morning starts with you waking up alone, only to find that Idia technically never slept. Instead, he was up all night setting up the ultimate birthday gaming experience for you.

"G-Good morning! Uh—sorry if I woke your up, but look! I made a whole list of games that fit your tastes, and we can play all day, no interruptions."

He isn't the type for regular parties but maybe he set up a virtual surprise where NPCs from your favorite games wish you happy birthday.

His gift? Probably something like a customized controller, or even him buying you any game skin you want. He tries to act nonchalant about it, but his ears are burning red when he gives it to you.

At the end of the night he shyly offers you to lean against his shoulder while you continue gaming. "I-It’s fine if you wanna sleep here. I mean it’s your birthday, so… whatever makes you happy."

Lilia Vanrouge

You wake up not because of an alarm, but because Lilia is already hovering over you, grinning mischievously. "Rise and shine, birthday star~!"

He’s so excited. Probably already made breakfast especially for you (though whether it’s edible is another story).

The whole day is a bit of chaos and fun, he drags you to some kind of adventure, even if it’s just sneaking into different parts of the campus for fun.

His gift is maybe something sentimental like a charm with protective magic or a handwritten letter filled with reasons why he loves you.

The night ends with him humming a soft melody for you, coaxing you to relax. "Another year older, another year more wonderful. You’ll always have me by your side, my dear."

Cater Diamond

You wake up to your phone blowing up, Cater’s already posted a barrage of cute birthday messages and pictures for you. "Gotta make sure everyone knows it’s your special day, y’know?"

He wanted to really make your day special for you so he hid little gifts all over for you to find. Each one has a cute note attached, making you feel extra appreciated.

His actual gift? A scrapbook filled with memories, photos, little doodles, messages from your friends. He loves seeing you smile while you look at each of the pages .

At the end of the day, he insists on a sunset selfie, just the two of you, with the golden light making everything look unreal. "This one’s for the memories, babe. Here’s to another year of being iconic together!"

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

[gatorbites-imagines]

When normal Reader is working their minimum wage job, I don’t even wanna think about what happens to the poor sap of a villain that decides to destroy it along with the many other buildings in the city, while terrorizing the citizens. If none of the Marks stalked Reader “just in case” at his work, then they’re definitely there for Reader in seconds tops, digging him out of the rubble while the other half of Marks easily capture the poor (and admittedly stupid) villain. Honestly, they did no research on the city that hosts multiple bloodthirsty Invincibles whose only reason for not dominating/destroying the Earth is because they’re completely whipped for a normal dude? They brought whatever happens on themselves TBH.

Regardless if Reader is hurt or not, they’d all love a good while to bond over slowly torturing the villain. They all take turns, some going to assist Reader, take him to a hospital just in case (screw the other hurt, scared citizens screaming for help beneath the rubble - this is their Reader. Get your own harem), get him safe while the others have the villain hostage somewhere. All the Marks make small groups to cycle through, so they can go between checking on Reader and having a nice long ‘talk’ with the villain who’s begging for death ATP.

Reader thinks that maybe he should stop them, but fuck it. Reader has injuries and has to look for a new job now. Besides, this is the most Reader has seen the Marks get along really well and actually work good together. Reader will just take it as an overdo bonding experience for them and not question the inhuman amount of blood they’re stained with when some walk through the door. At least, Reader’s not at home where they’d likely track blood through the house. So long as they give him the juicy details of their villain-turned-prisoner, it’s fine by Reader.

All the Marks are positively buzzing with pride at Reader actually giving what they perceive to be praise/thanks. At the end of the day, if Reader was released to go home, they’re all in their huuuge bed, cuddled up to Reader, happy and purring. If Reader wasn’t released, then they’re all still a happy and purring bunch of boys, sitting and laying around Reader’s hospital bed.

And meanwhile, wherever the Marks have them kept prisoner, the villain is still wailing for death to save them.

(Bonus)

Nurse: “G-Gentleman! Are you all hurt!?”

Invincibles: (Looks at themselves, caked in blood) “Oh, don’t worry! It’s not ours.” 😁

Nurse: 😨

(Sorry, I got REALLY carried away lmao)

I feel like the reader isn't even surprised at this point, he just looks at the marks with such a flat, tired, retail worker look, and sighs loudly. He'd try to tell them to dig other people out but whatever mark is holding him just goes "huh? Babe, I can't hear what you're saying" cuz they're flying.

Rest in peace to the villain who targeted that area of the city, they won't even get a nice and quick death like the vincibles normally give. They're gonna feel pain that can't even be described in words or noises. I imagine the marks get very creative in whatever they're doing

Reader, in hospital bed: hey, honey, where's the others?

Maskless mark: :)

Reader: honey?

Maskless mark, resting a hand on the readers forehead: you should get some sleep babe.

Reader would get annoyed at them for not saving the others, especially his favorite coworker who'd share cigarettes and weed during shift. This means he rolls over in the hospital bed and won't look at them. This doesn't work obviously, and the marks are gonna be whiny and acting all cute asking for forgiveness in their own ways. Some straight up on their knees by the bed, rubbing against the readers hand. And others just apologizing and giving lethal puppy eyes.

Reader ends up giving up, sighing loudly again, and letting them nuzzle up to him or just hover in the corner all intimidating and scaring the nurses. Readers too busy scrolling his phone for a new job...

[daisymbin]

mr. g-dragon - kwon soonyoung

pairings: kwon soonyoung x reader

warnings: none!!!!

wc: 803

check out my masterlist! // soonyoung's m.list

soonyoung practically kicks the door open.

he stumbles inside, wide-eyed and breathless, and you barely have time to react before he’s throwing himself onto the couch, limbs sprawled out like he’s just finished the performance of a lifetime. you blink at him from where you’re curled up in the armchair, book long forgotten as you watch him with amused curiosity.

"oh my god," he gasps, clutching his chest like he’s trying to physically hold in his excitement. his eyes are shining, his whole body buzzing with an energy so infectious you can feel it from across the room. "babe, you are not gonna believe the day i just had."

you laugh, setting your book down. "i don’t know, i think i might have an idea."

"no, no, no, you don’t understand." soonyoung sits up, shaking his head so fast you think he might get dizzy. "this was the best day of my life. the best day, do you hear me?" he gestures wildly, and you nod, biting back a smile. "like—okay, obviously, the best day was when i met you, but this is a close second, okay? or actually, cant i have 2 different days for my 'best day' hm?"

your heart flips at that and you nodded but you just roll your eyes fondly. he is so adorable when he's all excited. "so, what happened?"

soonyoung lets out a high-pitched squeal, kicking his feet like an overexcited kid. "i met kwon jiyong, g-dragon, you know that, right? of course you do, i talked about this day for a whole month, BUT ANYWAYS i talked to him. i hugged him. we ate together. oh my god, we drank together. he poured me a drink! do you know what that means?"

"that you drank alcohol?" you tease.

"no!" soonyoung groans, flopping back against the cushions before sitting up again just as quickly. "well, yes, but no—babe, do you know what an honor it is to have THE mr. g-dragon pour you a drink? it’s, like, the highest form of respect! i was dying inside, but i had to act cool, you know?"

you raise a brow as the corner of your lip quirked up. "did you act cool?"

soonyoung pauses. "…no, i was a mess..." he admits, looking both sheepish and proud at the same time. "but i tried! seungkwan and seokmin were making fun of me the whole time, but it’s fine because they were such losers in front of him too & i got to talk to him!! he was so nice, and he gave me advice, and he told me i was cool, and—oh my god, he said i was cool."

he clutches his chest again like he’s been shot, then his starts vibrating as his legs starts to jump up and down alternatively from excitement and you laugh, getting up from your chair to sit beside him on the couch. immediately, soonyoung turns to you, grabbing your hands in his and squeezing them so tight you can feel the warmth radiating off him.

"i've looked up to him my whole life," he says, voice softer now, like the weight of the moment is finally settling in. "like, he's the reason i wanted to be an idol. he's the reason i love performing so much. and today, i got to talk to him like—like i was someone worth talking to."

your chest tightens and your eyebrows furrow slightly at his words. "soonie…"

"he told me he watched our performances. he told me he liked my energy. he said he could tell i really love what i do, and—and that means everything coming from him, you know? like, i always worry about whether i’m doing enough, whether i’m good enough, and then he just—he just said that, like it was obvious."

his voice wavers slightly, and you squeeze his hands back, grounding him.

"you are enough, soonyoung," you say softly. "you always have been."

he looks at you, eyes bright and a little glossy, before pulling you into a tight hug. you melt into him, feeling the way his body is still buzzing, still vibrating with excitement.

"i just feel so happy," he murmurs against your shoulder. "like, i don’t even know what to do with myself. i wanna dance. i wanna scream. i wanna relive today over and over again."

"then let’s relive it!" you say, pulling back just enough to see his face. "tell me everything from the very beginning!"

soonyoung gasps like you've just given him the greatest gift in the world. "you really wanna hear everything?"

"of course," you say, smiling. "i love seeing you like this."

he blinks. "like what?"

"so happy. it makes me happy to see you happy."

for a moment, he just looks at you, and then he’s breaking into a smile as he leans in, kissing you, quick and giddy and a little breathless, like he just can’t contain it all.

"i love you," he says, grinning so wide it makes your own heart feel like it might burst.

"i love you too," you say, laughing as he pulls you back into another hug.

and soonyoung spends the rest of the night recounting every single detail, every little moment, every joke and comment and look that passed between them. and you—you listen, because if there’s anything you love more than soonyoung’s happiness, it’s being the one who gets to witness it.

[evilincoperated]

Insecurities

Pairing: Early Seasons!Spencer Reid x gn!reader (No use of y/n)

Summary: Spencer just can't understand why you'd be with him.

Fluff and hurt/comfort

wc: ~600 words

cw: Insecure talk, very very slight little women spoilers

You were sunshine, you were like a perfect cup of coffee, black with a ton of sugar. Spencer just couldn’t understand. You were you, funny, gorgeous, smart, loving, and perfect. And he was him, too tall, too skinny, too awkward, he rambled about things that almost nobody cared about, his tie was always crooked no matter what he did, in short, he was just not right. And yet you were with him, you lived with him, you watched Star Trek with him, you said you loved him, and he just couldn’t understand. 

He was sitting on your couch, trying to read his copy of Little Women, you were both reading it at the same time, your own mini-book club. But instead of being able to read he was watching you. Just wondering why you stayed, why you chose him, why you said yes. “Spence?” “Hm?” He blinked a few times after hearing your voice. “You’re staring,” you said, looking up from your book and smiling. “What are you at chapter forty or something?” You said grinning. “No, no, I'm past that.” “Of course you are.” You looked back down and continued reading. 

Spencer tried to continue reading, but he just kept glancing up. “What chapter are you on?” “Fifteen, but I already know what will happen.” “Then why’d you pick this book?” “Cause I love it.” He smiled at you, reaching out to grab your hand, you obliged, smiling. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or are we going to keep acting like nothings wrong while you stare at me?” “I’m just confused.” “You? Genius Spencer Reid confused about something?” He glared at you playfully. “What are you confused about? Little Women isn’t that confusing, but if you’re a Jo and Laurie truther then I might have to leave the room for a minute.” “I guess I just don’t understand why you’re with me.” 

You sit your book down and adjust yourself so you’re sitting up and looking at him, “What the hell do you mean by that?” You ask, staring at him, clearly upset by the question. “Well, I mean you’re so perfect-” “I’m absolutely not perfect but go on.” 

“You know what I mean,” he swallows. “You’re just way too good for me, you’re beautiful, and I’m just me. And I mean I just don’t get it. Nobody gets it. Everybody tells me I really lucked out, and that you’re way out of my league, and I agree. You’re everything. You could have anyone you want, you could literally be a model, and you’re with me. And I just don’t know why.”

You blinked a few times and stared at him blankly. “First of all, I could not be a model. I do not have the mental health capacity for that,” you get up and sit next to him. “Secondly, I could not have anyone I want, but even if I could, I’d still want you.” You cuddle into his side, “This may sound cheesy, but even though I’m not perfect, I’m perfect for you.” He smiled and laughed a little, “You’re right, that was cheesy.” “I know I didn’t magically get rid of your insecurity, and saying that you have no reason to be insecure isn’t exactly helpful. But it's true, and I’ll always be there for you.”

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “It makes me feel a bit better.” “Good.” “Sorry I pulled you away from your book.” “Don’t worry about it, I’ve read it before. I love you Spencer.” “I love you too.”

[beanietopia]

a sweet valentine's with shiu kong

shiu kong x afab reader. yes it's been a month since valentine's day, leave me alone! do you want the fic or not?! wc: 2k. proofread? nah. reader gets fingered in the backseat of shiu's car and LOVES IT. yuki tsukumo is the best wingwoman ever. thank you to my pookie for being my beta reader ily

sogaeting, a term you were unfamiliar with until about a few weeks ago. it was a korean word, meaning something equivalent to “blind date”, your coworker had told you. it had been a few weeks since you were transferred to the seoul office from tokyo, and your office had made it their mission to set you up with someone the minute they found out you were single. well, it was mainly your one coworker yuki, who also came from your office three months prior. she was just so likeable by the office that everyone seemed to support her antics, much to your displeasure. yuki had known you long enough to know that you were single for a while, she honestly didn’t even know if she’s ever seen you talk about a date in the 3 years you’ve been at the company. for reasons you could absolutely not wrap your head around to understand, yuki had taken it upon herself to fix your quiet love life. however if anyone had asked her what her plan was, she’d keep it simple.

you needed to get laid.

because you were close friends with yuki, and because you worked with her so there was no way to avoid her on lunch, you resigned yourself to listening to her “master plan” to get you a date on valentine’s day. “no but seriously, listen.” she pauses for a moment, some lettuce had gotten in her teeth, before continuing. “i think this could be good for you! i mean, you only go to work and go home. what’s one date going to do?” you roll your eyes. you had thought you were doing a pretty good job at being the single friend. you liked your alone time, you could stay out as long as you wanted without care, and you even made enough to take your friends out for a nice dinner every now and then. yes, your eyes did linger too long when you noticed yuki swipe gochujang paste off choso’s lips with her finger, or when you could hear gojo giggle on the phone to his lover in his cubicle when he thinks he’s being quiet. okay, maybe you didn’t necessarily enjoy being single all the time, and the exasperated look on yuki’s face all but confirmed your suspicion.

“c’mon, at least hear me out. one date, just one! and if you hate it, you don’t have to listen to my yammering about you being an old maid. sorry, wrong word choice. but he’s a workaholic like you! i think you’d like him.” if it weren’t for the exaggerated way yuki was wiggling her brows, you might have been a bit more interested in going on the date. truth be told, you were a little nervous going on a blind date, all too spoiled with the convenience of swiping a finger on your phone. but this was yuki, your longtime coworker, a friend, even. she wouldn’t sabotage you like that. right??  “could i know something about him at least? like, what he does for work, or whatever?”

when the night came, you found yourself staring at your appearance longer than you would have liked. had it really been that long? truth be told, yuki was right, you hadn’t really been focused on dating since accepting a job at this company. three years and a move later, you found yourself on valentine’s day obsessing over your appearance for the nth time before a blind date. the hell was yuki thinking, setting you up for this, you grumbled, fully forgetting you had agreed to meet shiu tonight. oh yes, shiu. yuki had forbid you from looking up any information about him prior to the date, claiming you would have an unfair advantage over him. she had sent you the address to this french place in apgujeong, claiming that the restaurant was his choice. when you checked the menu on the way there, you felt your eye twitch as bile rose in your throat. none of the dishes you could even attempt to pronounce, and the amount of commas in the prices threatened to make your heart stop. you didn’t even have the opportunity to turn back if you wanted, somehow your feet carried you off the train, down the street, and you were now scaring the poor hostess with your shell shocked expression. pull yourself together, yuki’s voice rang in your ears. great, she had now infiltrated your subconscious.

“i–i have a 9 o’clock reservation? for two.” your voice squeaked out, and the hostess seemed relieved that you could actually speak. with a tight-lipped smile and a slight nod of her head to follow her, you trailed behind her into the dimly lit restaurant. the soft murmurs of conversation mixed with the clinks of forks and classical music as she led you to your table. you felt your breath catch in your throat as your date was already sitting down. with a sly grin, he stood up to shake your hand. his grip was firm, but not tight, and his hands were surprisingly smooth. he smelled slightly of cologne and cigars, and yet you didn’t seem to mind. his short hair was styled neatly on top of his head, a slight side part with a few pieces spiked upwards. his sharp eyes held your attention for long you almost didn't notice his mustache that let your eyes stray downwards to his lips. jesus, he hasn’t even spoken yet and you’re already ogling.

“you must be yuki’s friend, it’s nice to meet you. the name’s shiu kong. thank you for coming tonight. i hope this isn’t too forward but,” he pauses to hand you a bag he had hidden under the table. “happy valentine’s day. i hope i can make tonight worth your time.” looking into the bag, you had to pinch yourself to keep your eyes from giving away your reaction. inside of the bag rest an arrangement of red roses with hints of baby’s breath, absolutely stunning. you lift your gaze to meet shiu’s again and smiled, maybe yuki was right after all. the conversation wasn’t difficult to get going after that, you found out that shiu had also worked in japan for a number of years and only recently came back to korea to work and live. he had also revealed to you that he was in his early thirties—about six years your senior. when you asked him why he was interested in dating at this stage of his life, he said he had spent his twenties doing nothing but work and had no time for relationships. you thought back to yuki’s words and shook your head, he was truly your counterpart. you had explained to him that it had been pretty much the same for you, after university you threw yourself into work. sure some dates happened here and there, but nothing stuck. you figured it would be easier to just focus on your career instead. shiu nods his head in understanding, taking a moment to sip from his wine glass. you didn’t realize how easy it was to talk to him until this moment.

the rest of the dinner went smoothly, much to your delight. shiu had taught you a couple of french words off the menu, and you found yourself becoming well acquainted with the waiter that kept refilling your wine glass. you had forgotten how fun dates could be, especially with the right person. shiu was charming, you gave him that. he broke you out of your shyness with no difficulty, and he even had you laugh a couple of times. you were having so much fun, in fact, when he asked you if you would like to continue the date you didn’t say no. the gentleman he was, he didn’t even let you spare a glance at the bill. he handed the booklet with his black card inside before turning his attention to you again, a soft smile on his features. “i’m glad you came out tonight, doll. from how yuki talked about you, i was starting to think that you weren’t going to show up.” your muscles tightened as you forced yourself to keep smiling, while you silently cursed out yuki in your mind. “well, i usually don’t go on blind dates.” you actually didn’t go on dates at all, but shiu didn’t need to know that. who were you kidding, he could probably smell the anxiety radiating off you once you sat down. nevertheless, he still gave you a slight chuckle and you even got to see how pretty his teeth were. 

time seemed to have passed so quickly when you were with him. somewhere after leaving the restaurant and before getting to shiu’s apartment, you were being pulled into his lap and felt his mouth pressing kisses into your neck. now if you were just a bit sober, you’d feel some shame for doing this in the back of a cab. but in between the kisses and the shushes shiu gave you, he reassured you that this was his car and he’d be having a driver bring you to his place. maybe you’d actually end up apologizing to yuki. “look at you,” shiu rasped into your ear, his fingers already traveling up the slit of your dress to play with the strings of your thong. “you’re stunning, how did i get so lucky?” your lungs couldn’t get enough air fast enough to keep up with shiu’s fingers, as his middle and index brushed themselves against your wet entrance. he shushed you in between kisses as he pumped his fingers inside of you, until you were pathetically riding them with shameless fervor. 

shiu had you so strung out you didn’t realise that your moans were a lot louder than you originally thought, but you’d find the shame to worry about that later. his eyes looked so hungry for you, you would’ve assumed he was undressing you with his eyes. as the sound of your arousal echoed through the car, he practically moaned as he watched you ride his fingers. “listen to that, doll. she’s so needy for me.. do you think you can last until we get to my place?” if you weren’t so focused on getting yourself off you would probably smack him, fuck no you wouldn’t last! you felt as if you were going to cum at any moment! the man seemed like he knew what you were thinking, as his lips curled into a smirk before he went to speak again. “do you think you can cum for me, beautiful? make a mess on my fingers for me baby, please…” you could never say no to a man with manners. your body shook as your orgasm ripped through you, your walls pulsing around his fingers like a heartbeat. shiu gave you a moment to calm down before gently removing his fingers from inside you, making you watch as he sucked off the creamy fluids you left behind for him. 

“looks like someone couldn’t wait until we got home… can you go for another round later?”

you made a mental note to send yuki a thank you text in the morning.

can you fucking BELIEVE this took me a month to write. no but seriously work and life have been beating my ass like so bad but i really wanted to post this so i hope you enjoy :3 better late than never right AHAHA also there isn't gonna be a part 2 so pls do not ask me i will cry. choso pt 3 might be in the works IDK IDKKKKKK but thank you love you beanie out mwah

@webism @gojoscinnamonroll @yemmuis @xixflower @xxsapphirescrollsxx