#and my parents had to explain to me that i made a mistake

[ebenelephant]

Look, I think you're misconstruing some of my points and since this is reaching way farther than I wanted I would like to clarify for a second. This was kind of a bit of a rant post which I didn't expect people other than like 4 mutuals to... see? So as you can imagine I wasn't exactly my best articulated. Some of my points have definitely come across wrong, so to try and explain what I mean a little better:

I'm not saying we should see more flashbacks to Tom's life. This is a criticism I have of this plot point not being thought through, more than anything. It tells us something other that what was probably intended because you get the impression that Rowling didn't really consider the wider implications of what she was saying in the time period it was set. I'm not suggesting this should be delved deeper into, I'm just suggesting that it wasnt the best thought through.

With the Weasleys I just messed up the timeline on this one. I do genuinely have issues with some of the portrayal of the Weasleys which I won't get into, but this one is my mistake.

The Snape one is more of a personal gripe. My tongue in cheek remark about being "surprised you caught onto that" is in reference to the fact that I have heard/seen multiple people just glossing over that context to his life entirely - either because they missed it of because it was too minor for them to care.

My issue with the Hermione thing isn't actually that she obliviated her parents – as you say, this makes sense with her character – but rather how underutilised they are. We meet the parents and guardians of other, less important characters when they're thematically and narratively relevant, and given how important Hermione's status as a muggleborn is in the books you would think they would be both. It always seemed a weird choice to me that her parents are practically non-entities, spoken of occasionally but never seen. It's the show-don't-tell thing: we are told that Hermione loves her parent a lot, and of course we know this to be true, but the biggest time they are really relevant is when she obliviates them. Even if Harry had just seen them once, maybe sending Hermione to platform 9¾, and had seen them in contrast to the Dursleys this would have given them more weight. Hermione is distraught, but we as the reader are much less emotionally involved because we have no idea who these people are.

The Lily point honestly feels like a bad faith arguement, because she was never just 'the main character's long dead mum', she was the person who saved him, who made him the chosen one, who is referenced throughout the series, and who is directly related to the actions of multiple characters. I would literally just like consistent characterisation for her, because the way she is spoken about doesn't align with the ways we see her acting in the few scenes she has, and even in those scenes she is somewhat contradictory. This is never addressed by Harry the way it's addressed when he learns the negative qualities of his father – though in a book targeted at a 9-12 audience you would certainly expect it to be. This makes me think, again: oversight. Kids books have to guide the reader somewhat, and this aspect doesn't really do that. Could've been a great addition to that "nobody's perfect" theme JKR had going, but wasn't executed in a way properly accessible to a nine year old as opposed to other points in the series.

thinking again about jk rowling being a bad writer. like, we all know about the massive flaws in her worldbuilding and i hope by now it's clear she's a bigot on basically every front. (hello, regular reminder that she doesn't even actually like women.) but like. she's especially good at dropping bits of lore and then those not being relevant in the fucking slightest. riddle was told to go home to his orphanage in london during what would have very much been the blitz? whatever. the weasley's are so strapped for cash that they're sending their son to school with a potentially dangerous broken wand? of course they're spending their lottery winnings on visiting their adult son in egypt, what else would they do. snape grew up in what was likely a dying northern industrial town with abusive/neglectful parents, largely cut off from the magical world? almost impressed you caught on to that, with how little it's expanded on. yes hermione has a supposedly good relationship with both her parents, no we're not going to show you it at all, yes she's going to wipe they're memories like it's nothing. lily evans is the moral compass of james and basically the most important person in the series but fuck you if you want to actually know anything about her lmao. even what little we see is wildly inconsistent.

[luvevee]

Listen I'm all for seeing Sada and Turo realize how they neglected Arven before their death and/or going a no death au route with it, and/or the AIs stepping in to help fill the parental rolls that he didn't have.

But personally it doesn't sit well to gloss over the neglect and emotional abuse entirely. I'm not saying to clarify that's a known fact every time they're talked about, I'm just saying to understand that they were neglectful and emotionally abusive parents, and that a good chunk of Arven's character arc was about realizing he wasn't just an afterthought in their lives and that he's his own person with his own thoughts/feelings/dreams/etc.

[cryptidcalling]

Literally only using Disney Plus to watch Bluey. Talking about all my feelings in the tags (sorry, I didn't realize it would get so long)

[jetblackheavt]

some rant

[pyrrhiccomedy]

I am genuinely so proud of my wife for becoming a crafts person over the last few years.

Like, I was always a crafts person. I was an arts and crafts kid. My parents sent me to classes or summer camps or after-school clubs pretty much continuously from when I was about 5 years old, and over the years I did metalsmithing, stained glass, polymer clay sculpting, loom weaving, oil painting, charcoal drawing, clothes-making & tailoring, carpentry, woodcarving, macrame, miniatures, beading, jewelry-making, basket weaving, leatherworking, paper-making, bookbinding, papier mache, decoupage, sand sculpting, and probably more that I'm forgetting. There was never a day in my life while I was growing up when my entire bedroom floor wasn't taken up by 2-5 different ongoing art projects. As an adult, it's given me the firm confidence that I can walk up to pretty much any crafting skill, and get the hang of it, and enjoy doing it.

My wife never had that. She wrote, but that was really her only artistic outlet. Art & craftsmanship were just not any of her business. She always expressed admiration for my gumption when it came to making things with my hands, usually with a "bigger idiots than me have done it" attitude, but she was certain she'd be bad at it if she tried it, and that she wouldn't have fun. As evidence, she would offer every time in her life when she had attempted to learn a craft, and didn't have fun, and all the Arts And Crafts kids picked it up a lot faster than her.

Which like - yeah! Learning how to do a new craft is a skill all on its own! Fine motor control is a skill developed over time! So is spatial reasoning, and materials intuition! She wasn't just 'trying to learn wreath-making,' or whatever, she was trying to learn how to learn how to make something with her hands AND wreath-making, at the same time, so of course it would take her longer than the kids who already had the first part, and of course it would be more frustrating for her. I knew she wasn't uniquely bad at crafts: she just didn't know how to approach picking them up, because she was never encouraged to learn.

And then the pandemic hit.

And while we were all trapped inside and going insane in new and exciting ways to all of us, she tentatively decided to pick up embroidery. She probably wouldn't stick with it, she explained: she'd probably be bad at it. It probably wouldn't be fun. But she thought embroidery was pretty, and literally what else did she have going on?

And then she did stick with it. For over a year. And she got pretty good at it! She embellished a baseball hat for her sister with cactuses and wildflowers from where they grew up which came out adorable. She made an embroidered portrait of one of our friends' cat that they still have displayed in their entryway. And she discovered - and remarked on it often, with mild surprise - that she was having fun. She'd say a lot of stuff like "this stitch was so frustrating at first, but now that I get it I really like doing it," or "I kept getting this tangled but I've figured it out now. I just needed to relax."

Then she took up pottery. We did that as a couple for about a year, too. Now she's a knitter.

And it's just been so great, to see her eyes light up when she sees a sweater she likes, and hear her say, "I could make that!" She's slowly let go of the perfectionism that I think holds a lot of people back from doing crafts: that dismay when you make a mistake which leads to discarding a whole project, or starting something over. More and more she's taking on the veteran crafter attitude of "oops lol, whatever I'll just keep going." She's picking things up faster. She's taking pleasure in learning incremental steps. She's started to see crafting as something that relaxes and engages her, instead of as something inherently frustrating. I've gotten to watch her learn to find joy in making something with her hands. I always knew she was creative and artistic and capable of learning how to do anything. It's been so much fun to watch her start to take that on as part of how she sees herself.

We have this running joke about how she will prematurely declare herself to be in an era. Like, she'll go swimming twice and announce that she's now in her "swimming era," and then never go swimming again. Or she'll make one smoothie, buy a bunch of fruit, and declare that we are now in a "smoothie era," and then a week later we have to throw out a bunch of fruit that's gone bad.

The other day (while she was knitting, and I was sitting on the couch next to her doing crochet), she went, "I feel like I've gotten - like, I'm a bit crafty these days, I think. Like, I've done a couple of different crafts, and gotten pretty good at them. I think this is now, kind of, you know...something that I can say that I do."

I supplied that I would even go so far as to say that she was in her "crafting era."

Her eyes widened. "It's an era?"

I pointed out that it was something she'd been doing pretty much continuously for the last three and a half years. That feels like the start of an era to me.

"Yes," she decided. "It's an era. This is my crafts era. I'm a crafts person now."

She's planning to make me a sweater with a duck on it for fall.

[daechwitatamic]

cherrybomb || csc

(banner by @sailorrhansol)

cherrybomb seungcheol x afab reader || angst smut fluff || exes2lovers, pacific rim universe NSFW - minors DNI

Summary: Piloting a jaeger requires a rare ability called drifting - a neural connection with your co-pilot. You and Seungcheol are masters of the drift... until you have something in your head that you don't want him to see.

wc: 19.5k

warnings: language, heavy angst with happy ending, fight scenes, fight scenes written by an author with zero fighting or martial arts knowledge lmfao thus they are vague as possible, feelings heavy plot light and smut light, kissing and pretty generic (and brief) p in v smut

Author's note: thank you for @sailorrhansol for 1) accidentally sparking this idea, 2) agreeing to collab with me, 3) reading this along the way and hyping me up, and 4) beta-ing my mistakes, a million smooches for you ily

This fic takes place in the Pacific Rim universe but I honestly don't think you need to know the lore, everything you need to know should be explained. If you think something is unclear without prior pacific rim knowledge, shoot me a message privately and I'll make some edits and credit you for the insight!

Also in this universe: storm breaker by @/sailorhansol

Teaser:

“Marshall, with all due respect, I don’t know why you’re calling me,” you admit. “You were there. You saw what happened. Seungcheol and I can’t drift anymore.”

“You couldn’t then,” he points out. “That was three years ago. Things that were once too painful to carry into the drift… they’ve had time to mellow.”

He’s wrong, and you want to tell him so. Nothing has mellowed. You love Seungcheol just as much today as you did then.

“Have you talked to him about this?” You’re afraid of the answer. 

The Marshall’s voice hardens, and you can just picture his eyes narrowing. “Mr. Choi will follow orders,” he says evenly, “and so will you. Asking is really just a courtesy.”

“You can’t order us into being able to drift again,” you snap, pulse suddenly pounding in your arms, your hands, your face, your chest. 

“No,” the Marshall says, and any previous friendliness is gone from his voice now, “but I can - and will - order you to try.”

Playlist: you're the smoke in my gun, blowin' like cherry bombs...

The first time you ever saw Choi Seungcheol, he was flipping a man four years his senior over his shoulder and slamming him into the ground. Satisfied, he staggered backwards, chest heaving from exertion, eyes narrowed in preparation for the next move.

That’s what Seungcheol did - he leveled whatever was in front of him, and he started watching for what was coming next before the body could even hit the ground.

That’s what made him a great jaeger pilot. Not the brute strength - strong men are dime a dozen, always have been - but the watching.

You’d marked him as your first choice.

You were both nineteen. You’d grown up in the Shatterdome, the only child to a couple who piloted a neon green jaeger named Charron’s Revenge. You knew everything about how jaegers and their teams worked by the time you were nine. You started training to fight years before that. There was never a question that you would follow in your parents’ giant, mechanical footsteps one day. You just needed the right partner.

You needed Seungcheol.

The jaeger program didn’t turn away recruits - everyone could do something - but there was an organized process to match up compatible pilots. Applying recruits would fight before an audience of previously-accepted but currently-unmatched potential pilots. The pilots would rank the fighters, choosing their top five based on perceived potential for compatibility.

Then, the roles would switch. The applicants became the audience. The audience became the show.

When it was your turn to fight, you silently pleaded with the universe that Seungcheol would mark you high as well. This was the only guarantee that you’d get a chance to spar with him, to test it out before the Marshall, who would make the final call.

Let him see, you begged. Let him see how perfectly we’d work together.

And, by some miracle, he did. In fact, he rated you first, as well.

Your sparring match went exactly how you expected - he barreled at you, and you dodged every move. He could easily take you out with a single blow, but he couldn’t get his hands on you, not when you used his own inertia against him at every turn. What you didn’t expect was your own inability to land a shot. For the whole fight, you were unable to move out of the defensive - keeping out of his reach took all of your effort.

It was a draw - the first sign of strong compatibility.

You didn’t talk after the match - your father whisked you away to recover before your second-rated match, and you didn’t see Seungcheol for the rest of the day.

The second-rated match was a dud. But you already knew, even then, that it didn’t matter.

You’d met your co-pilot. You’d found your partner.

—

He found you in the mess hall that night, dropping into an empty spot on the other side of the table, his tray in his hands. His black hair was loose and wavy, and his right arm sported a sizeable bruise that he definitely didn’t get from you.

“I know who you are,” he said by way of greeting. You raised a brow at him, waiting. “Your parents piloted Charron’s Revenge.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “That better not be why you picked me.”

He gave his head an annoyed little flick. “Of course not. I picked you because you’re fluid - and I’m not.”

Appeased, you felt your hackles settle back down. “That’s true,” you allowed. “You’re not fluid. But you’re purposeful, and-”

You were interrupted when Yoon Jeonghan dropped into the seat to your left, chuckling under his breath as he fixed his long, dark hair into a spiky ponytail at the back of his head.

“Cherry, did you hear?” he asked you, ignoring the new-comer. “The crew for Fatal Rapids got called back in for misconduct.”

“Choi Seungcheol, Yoon Jeonghan,” you said, introducing the two young men. “Hannie does more than gossip, I promise. He’s one of the pilots for Devil’s Advocates. Their drop stats are insane.”

“In practice only,” Jeonghan demurred. “For now.”

“Cherry?” Seungcheol parroted, raising a dark brow. “That’s not what I wrote on my paper earlier.”

“Just a nickname,” you explained. When you were very small, you’d struggled with the name of your parents’ jaeger, calling it Cherry’s Revenge instead of Charron’s, and the crew - who doted on you like their own - started the habit of calling you Cherry. Somehow, it had spread, and stuck. “Only my parents use my real name. But you can call me whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“No,” he said, frowning as if deeply considering his options. “I like it.”

You folded your arms on the table, leaning in to peer at Seungcheol. “So, what’s your story? You’ve heard of me. I haven’t heard of you.”

He shrugged, glanced around, then decided he could talk freely. There’s something about being in a room that’s positively teeming with people and conversation - it gives you privacy without feeling too intimate. You’re not alone.

“Not much of a story, not like you,” he admitted. “I grew up thinking I’d take over my dad’s business. We lost my dad… then, we lost the business. I have no marketable skillset, and university was out of the question. But…” He trailed off, then met your gaze firmly. Something in his look demanded you forgo any pity or sympathy, demanded you take him seriously. “I’m strong. So I came here. I came to fight.”

You sidestepped the bruises he’d bared. “Not like me,” you repeated with a bit of a scoff. “I hate to disappoint you, but my parents are the pilots - the story is theirs. I don’t have one, not yet.”

Something playful glinted in his eyes, the first true sign of personality you’d seen. “So all the rumors about the Princess of the Shatterdome aren’t true?”

Your jaw dropped. You’d heard the nickname before - it was never meant nicely. You tried to ignore it as best you could - people could think what they wanted. When you had a crew, when you had a jaeger, you’d be able to prove them wrong. “What rumors?”

“You’re spoiled,” Jeonghan supplied, having decided he was part of the conversation after all. “Entitled.”

You spluttered as Jeonghan stood, giving you a cheerful pat on the shoulder. “And bitchy! That’s just what I’ve heard. Of course I know better. Anyway, I’ve got to go. Love ya!”

You stared incredulously after him as he disappeared, your face burning with embarrassment and your heart hammering with adrenaline. Fight, your systems told you.

If only you could.

Seungcheol bit back a smile, reaching out to pat your arm placatingly.

“I don’t…” you started to say, but your voice caught in your throat. You cleared it, tried again. “I don’t think I really deserve all that.”

He nodded, lips pushed into a semblance of a thoughtful pout. “What I’d heard,” he said calmly, “is that you’re a hell of a fighter, scary smart, and that you take no shit. Unless it’s from your friends, apparently.”

This made a bitter little laugh bubble from you. You still simmered with humiliation, feared that maybe he’d decide he didn’t want to co-pilot with you after all.

“I think it’s up to you which story gets told,” he said finally.

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. “That’s what I always said. So… let’s get started.”

—

You and Seungcheol lucked out - the team that had been recalled for misconduct were terminated from their posts in the weeks following the sparring trials, and their jaeger Fatal Rapids had been disassembled, the parts up for grabs.

You and Seungcheol repurposed Rapids’s main frame, your crew working to individualize the bot to your needs as best they could. You splurged on quad-processors for her legs to allow your jaeger to keep up with how you move - quick and lithe. Seungcheol lobbied for (and won) some extra power in the top half, and you compromised and chose a mix of red and blue sections for her paintjob.

Duellona Fury, you named her. Duellona for you, the destroyer. Fury for Seungcheol, because that was where his fight came from.

You got to know Seungcheol’s fury very well. Especially when you started trying to drift.

None of it happened fast - not the building of your machine, nor your neural handshake. In fact, you didn’t pilot Duellona Fury together for a whole calendar year.

You started with physical compatibility - you sparred almost all day, every day. You fought - with each other and against each other - until all you could do was lay on the ground and pant, blinking to make the ceiling stay in focus.

Seungcheol may not have grown up training in the Shatterdome the way you did, but he kept up without complaint. You learned his way - force and strength - and he learned the way you favored - to weave and dodge.

The fighting was the easy part.

You had never drifted with someone you had true drift compatibility with. Seungcheol had never drifted at all. The Marshall wouldn’t even consider hooking the two of you up to the machine until you went through the proper training.

On the day you and Seungcheol were officially declared as co-pilots-in-training, you both stood below the half-built shell of your towering jaeger, sparks flying and drills screaming as the crew worked on her.

Your Marshall looked seriously at his new team-in-training. “Starting tomorrow, you’ll meditate together. Talk to each other. Get deep about it. If you’ve talked about it out here-” he swept an arm across the deck, “-it won’t take hold so strongly in there.” He’d jabbed a finger in the upward direction of Duellona Fury.

Seungcheol didn’t look at you, nor the Marshall. Instead, he kept his eyes on Duellona's unfinished frame, stories above you. “Yes, Sir,” he said steadily.

Your parents weren’t technically retired yet, the year you and Seungcheol started training together. Charron’s Revenge still sat in the well below the Shatterdome. They still lived on the base, still took part in daily training. They hadn’t been called into a fight in years, though; the assignments went to the younger crews.

You took dinner in their quarters instead of the mess hall, that night.

“Congratulations,” your father said warmly from across the table. “You worked hard to get here.”

“Thank you,” you said, feeling shy beneath the praise. “I hope the drift will work for me and Choi Seungcheol.”

“What do you think of him?” your mother had asked, her sharp eyes honing in on you, watching your reactions.

“I think he’s a great fighter,” you said. “The rest… I guess I’ll have to learn.”

“Do you trust him? Can you trust him out there, when the sea and the wind are trying to knock you down, and hell itself rises up from the depths?”

You swallowed. She’s right for her intensity - they will be putting their daughter’s life in her co-pilot’s hands, every time there’s a fight. You knew firsthand how terrifying it was to stand in the tech bay and wait, not knowing if your loved ones will make it back.

You thought about how you and Seungcheol fight together in the sparring rooms. You thought about how you weaved and your opponent followed your movement, only to be knocked sideways. You thought of how Seungcheol followed your motion backwards, ducked in tandem with you to avoid a hit, and how you followed his momentum forward and up to attack. Your bodies followed each other like they were magnetized. And Seungcheol was always watching for the next hit.

“Yes,” you said, so quietly that you cleared your throat and said it again. “Yes, I trust him.”

“Then we wish you luck,” your father said, and raised his glass. “To Duellona Fury.”

“To Duellona Fury,” you echoed.

On your way out of the quarters, later, you slowed as you passed the wall where they hung their accolades and awards, the newspaper clippings, photos, and medals. Before your eyes they aged - the photographs changing through the years, no longer showing a bright, fiery couple, instead displaying proof of passing time: a baby bump, then a toddler, then a child beaming alongside them as if she’d done what they had done; greying hairs, softening bodies, deepening of wrinkles. Then the pictures stopped.

You never asked them if they missed it.

—

You and Seungcheol started meditating together the next morning; it seemed logical to begin at the easiest step. In an empty sparring room, you sat facing each other, knees touching.

“Have you done this before?” you asked, as you both settled in, shifting weight and adjusting ankles.

“Not with someone else,” he admitted, lips protruding in a bit of a pout. “Only alone.”

You nodded. You’d grown up learning all of this - the right way to fight as a team member, how to be in tune for a neural connection. It led to you teaching Seungcheol often - yet when you fought together, any leadership fell away.

“Normally,” you explained, “you focus on your breath, keeping your mind clear. But for our practice, you want to focus on our breath. We breathe together. And when your mind wanders, your awareness should be coming to peace with my presence there. Like, making a path for the neural connection - for later. So there’s no resistance.”

“Have you done this before?” Seungcheol asked.

You wobbled your head around - not yes, but not no. “I’ve practiced it - I’ve done the meditation with partners. But I’ve never moved forward to an actual drift with anyone.”

This seemed to appease him, and he settled his weight backwards, letting his hands rest near his knees.

You let your eyes float closed and inhaled, listening and feeling for Seungcheol’s inhale to end, letting your breath out when he did. It took no time to match your breaths, to let your mind go blissfully quiet. You focused on feeling open, readable - any thought that floated through your mind, you pretended he could hear, too. You tried to feel and release any defensiveness, any urge to close off.

When the timer went off, it surprised you. You opened your eyes, and the feeling that struck you was this -

It was surprising to see Seungcheol before you. It hadn’t felt like he was beside you. It had felt like he was you.

You meditated, you fought, and finally, you talked.

Laying on the sparring room floor, your head somewhere near Seungcheol’s shins, he asked you, “Where do you wish you were right now? If you weren’t here.”

You laughed at yourself before answering, knowing how silly you would sound. “In a tree.”

A disbelieving smile played on his lips, almost as if he wasn’t sure you weren’t making fun of him somehow. “A tree?”

“No, really,” you insisted, still smiling a little. “There’s not a lot of nature here, in case you didn’t notice. I grew up in the Dome - never got to leave, much.”

Seungcheol didn’t respond to this, just nodded like he understood, his small smile going a bit tight around the edges.

You frowned, reading him exactly. “You think I’m sheltered,” you observed. It wasn’t a question. He couldn’t say no.

He looked at you, then. “You were sheltered,” he said, voice low. “But when I say it, I don’t mean naive. I just think… there’s a lot of world out there. A lot of things to see. You won’t see any of it if you spend your entire life under the Dome.”

You nod, accepting this. “I won’t see any of it if it gets destroyed, either. There’s a lot of world out there - that we’re trying to keep safe.”

Seungcheol watched you intently for a moment, lips downturned and gaze heavy. Then, he asked, “Have you ever seen a kaiju? I mean - in person?”

“Sort of,” you mumbled.

He’d rolled from his back to his front, closer to you, putting you shoulder to shoulder. “Kind of seems like a yes-or-no question.”

Your lips twisted. “Then, no. But I’ve stood in the bay and listened to Mission Control talk my mom and dad through a fight dozens of times, watched Charron’s Revenge on the screens and prayed I wouldn’t see her get sawed in half.”

You stopped, trailed a finger through the thin layer of dirt on the floor. “I know it’s not the same as looking one in the face myself,” you whispered. “But the fear… shouldn’t that fear count, shouldn’t it feel the same?”

Seungcheol swallowed, trailed his own finger through the dirt until his fingertip just barely touched yours. It felt like energy sizzled in the centimeter between your pointer and his.

“When Menaceclaw attacked,” he said, “he missed my home by one block. We watched him go by from the sidewalk. I wasn’t even as tall as his foot. But even with him towering over the buildings, taking them down without even trying, I don’t think what I felt was afraid. I think I just felt resigned. Like I knew, at seven, that even though we survived this one… nothing was going to be… the same, or okay. I don’t know.”

“You knew what you lost,” you said quietly. “Part of you did.”

He looked up at you, nudged his finger into yours. “You never knew anything different. It wasn’t a loss. The fear was just always part of the deal.”

You rolled sideways, laying your head on your bicep for a pillow, regarding the dark-eyed, dark-haired young man across from you. His face scrunched in a laugh, brows furrowing and lips pouting.

“What?” he asked through the quiet laugh. “Why are you looking at me?”

“What else?” you mused. “What else am I going to find when we go tiptoeing through your memories?”

He smiled faintly and then mirrored you, laying his head on his arm, his eyes swimming as he thought.

“A lot of my family, probably,” he said. “A lot of fighting. Menaceclaw. Probably some very mid sex.”

You laughed without meaning to. “My condolences?”

He grinned at you, pleased. “Eh, what can you do? I try to treat everything like a learning experience.”

You laughed again, and his smile grew, gums showing. “What about you?” he asked off-handedly.

“Mid sex?” you asked, eyebrows raising. “I hate to inform you, Choi Seungcheol, but I don’t do anything mid.”

“No,” he protested, laughing, reaching out to gently shake your shoulder. “I meant - what will we see when it’s your turn?”

“The Dome,” you said, half-joking - but it was true. “Training. My parents. Their fights, their accomplishments.”

And, as a true drift partner should, he understood what you weren’t saying.

“We’ll have our turn,” he promised, pushing himself to sit up, then stand, reaching down to help you up. “We’re gonna be fucking unstoppable. Let’s go again.”

Fire sparking behind your ribs, you nodded seriously, then reached up to take his hand.

—

Weeks of sparring melded into months of meditation and talking. The next phase of training co-pilots was learning to drift in one of the simulators - but not in a jaeger. Not yet.

You and Seungcheol finished training in one of the sparring rooms shortly before dinner would be served in the mess hall.

“Meet you there?” you asked, still half-breathless, your body starting to ache as the adrenaline from a fight melted away.

“Sure,” he agreed, and you disappeared into the changing rooms, scrubbing the sweat and dirt away as quickly as you could. You changed into something clean and made your way to the mess hall.

You scanned for familiar faces, frowning when your normal table seemed to be occupied by a team of new recruits that you didn’t know.

Seungcheol appeared at your elbow, frowning dramatically. “Our table,” he whined.

“There’s Chan and Wylie,” you said, nodding to another corner where your friends sat practically on top of each other. Chan and Wylie had never understood personal space, not when it came to one another. They barely noticed when you and Seungcheol plopped onto the benches next to them, but Seungkwan did.

“You’re bleeding, Cherry,” he said, before inhaling an entire mouthful of rice.

You started to scan your arms - you didn’t feel pain anywhere - but Seungcheol found it first, gingerly swiping his thumb along your cheekbone.

“Sorry, Cherry,” he murmured. “I should’ve pulled that punch.”

“No you shouldn’t have,” you grumbled, swatting at his hand and wiping roughly at the spot, your hand coming away with a small smear of red - nothing to be alarmed about. It would stop on its own. “You pull shots in practice, you’ll hesitate in the field.”

“She’s right,” Chan said from his physical tangle with Wylie. “What you practice will show up in your muscle memory. You’ve got to mean it, every time.”

Wylie reached across his arms and took a bite from his plate, then asked, “Did you guys see the new jaeger?”

“I did,” Seungkwan said eagerly. “Chaser Supernova, or something like that? She’s smaller, but she’s supposed to be fast.”

“Is that her team at our normal table?” you asked dryly, shooting the rookies a dark look over your shoulder. Seungcheol jostled you playfully, sending you a smile that brought you back.

The bench dipped to your left, and you turned to see Soonyoung - one of Seungkwan’s two co-pilots - settle in.

“Talking about Supernova?” he asked, hands busy opening his drink. “They seem okay - they’re a trio, like us.”

“Where is Seokmin?” Seungkwan asked, scanning the room. “I haven’t seen him in like two hours.”

“Talking to Jihoon, I think,” Soonyoung answered absently, focused on his meal. “He lost another co-pilot today.”

“Not again,” you and Seungcheol both blurted, matching levels of exasperation.

“That was freaky,” Wylie said, just as Chan told you, “You two are acting like us, now.”

“We do not need another Chan-and-Wylie,” Seungkwan said seriously, shaking his head.

Seungcheol sent you a sideways, sheepish grin.

“We won’t be,” he promised the group, but his eyes were still on you.

—

The simulators were built to be exact replicas of the conn-pod, so that trainees could get used to the feeling of being strapped in, of moving with the gear. But the real purpose was to practice the neural handshake without risking damage - to the jaeger, to the tech bay, to each other.

“Don’t be nervous,” you told Seungcheol as the tech team worked around you both like a choreographed dance.

“I’m never nervous,” he said, suddenly cocky.

If you could reach his hand from where you were strapped in, you would have. If you understood anything about Seungcheol - if any part of him mirrored you - it was the way he showcased bravado, the way he used it as his most-familiar mask.

“It’s only practice,” you reminded him. “And it’s only me.”

He licked his lips quickly, eyes darting to the side and then back to you. Then, he gave you a small nod.

“Normally,” your chief tech - a beautiful woman with jet-black hair named Nainsi - told you, “right now, you would be ready for the drop. In the simulator, we skip that step because we aren’t dropping onto a jaeger. Instead, we’ll engage the pilot to pilot connection protocol sequence.”

You and Seungcheol nod in tandem.

“You’re all good?” Nainsi checks. “Then I’m going back into the tech bay - you’ll hear me through the intercom.”

Alone in the simulator, you met Seungcheol’s gaze and couldn’t help the excited grin that spread across your face. Finally, finally you were here. Once you could do this successfully, the next step was to fight in your own jaeger - to drop into Duellona Fury and walk into the sea.

He didn’t return your smile, instead giving you a tight nod, expression serious.

Over the intercom, you said clearly, “Ready and aligned.”

Nainsi answered, “Prepare for neural handshake.”

You took a deep breath and steeled yourself as the artificial voice of the simulator’s tech system spoke around you, 3… 2… 1… neural handshake initiating…

At first, you thought something went wrong. Everything went red behind your eyelids, and you blinked, instinctively trying to clear it away.

The red faded, and you found yourself in Seungcheol’s childhood home. You didn’t know how you knew that - you just knew. It was as familiar to you, inside the drift, as your own. You knew that to your left was a small kitchen with two broken floor tiles; you knew - without having ever seen it - that to your right was a narrow hallway that led to a bathroom and two small bedrooms.

Two small boys played on the carpet; rather, the smaller one played with some toy cars while the other watched the television with rapture. Behind them, at the kitchen table, a woman typed busily on an outdated laptop, bags heavy under her eyes.

Somewhere around you, a voice floated by, telling you, neural handshake strong and holding.

You could see Seungcheol in your periphery - the adult Seungcheol, the Seungcheol of now - as he looked at his mother, his brother, himself.

“It’s not real,” you reminded him gently. “It’s just a memory.”

“I know,” he said back, voice hushed, as if he might scare them away. “It’s just… good to see them.”

The house evaporated as gently as morning dew under a mid-morning sun; you stood in a schoolyard. Seungcheol, the small one, had a bloody lip and a mean swing.

You felt a rush of affection for him - him, the child, face contorting with misplaced anger, using strength as a bandage. You wanted to stand in front of him, between him and the anger, him and the other kids, and let him take a breath. You wanted to tell him to step with his punch to get more power. You wanted to put a hand on his shoulder and tell him, you’re going to be fine.

And he knew all of it, because he was in your mind.

Seungcheol - your Seungcheol - walked away from the swarm of children egging on the fight and opened a door. You followed.

Inside was not the school, but a hospital room. Your body jolted forward, distracting and alarming. You heard, faintly, a series of beeps, that robotic voice needling in your ears, saying, calibration failure… recalibrating in 3… 2… 1…

“It’s only a memory,” you said again, but the warning beeps were coming stronger, louder, more clearly. The hospital room looked opaque, and Seungcheol walked backwards towards you, away from it, herding you both out of the room. The room - a bed, a pulled curtain, a lot of white - flickered, like a glitch, and then vanished, leaving you standing in the simulator.

Neural handshake disengaged…

“Seungcheol!” you yelled, pulling your helmet off and wheeling on him as best you could with most of your body still strapped in. “What the hell was that? You pushed me out!”

He was breathing hard, eyes a little wild. “Not that,” he said, a little ragged. “I’ll let you in but - not that.”

“You don’t get to choose!” you snapped. Part of you knew this was just growing pains, he’d never drifted before, he was learning. But the rest of you smarted and stung - both from his rejection and from your failure to train, to succeed, to check off this final step before you could get inside your jaeger. “It’s kind of an all-or-nothing thing!”

He let out a billow of air, reaching a hand up to rub at his face. “Sorry. I’ll… let’s try again.”

You didn’t answer, fuming silently instead.

“I’m sorry, Cherry,” he said. “The stuff with my dad…”

“You can’t cherry-pick what we see and what we don’t,” you fired back. His eyes shot to yours and his mouth quirked and you read the joke all over his face. “Don’t you laugh, Seungcheol, it’s not funny!”

But you were laughing through the scolding.

“Stop,” you whined.

Your anger defused, he looked at you again, taking a bracing breath. “It’s not about you,” he tried to explain. “I’m not keeping you out. I’m keeping me out.”

“Don’t chase the rabbit,” you told him, shaking your head. “See what it wants you to see and move on. Find the next door. If you stand there and let your hurt - or your, I don’t know… grief - rise up… that’s when we’re going to have trouble.”

“Find the next door,” he repeated, eyes on the floor. “Got it.”

“You can’t push it away,” you reminded him, “but you don’t have to stay in it, either.”

He nodded, eyes already lighting up, ready to go again.

The second time, you saw him steel himself before opening that same door, watching carefully as he shuffled inside, only looking sideways at the hospital room that materialized around you.

“Seungcheol.”

He turned to look at you, wide-eyed, but you hadn’t called him. The voice, weak and hoarse, had come from the other side of the fluttering curtain.

The glitching started almost immediately - the image around you flickering like a bad wall projection. Something rocked beneath your feet, an earthquake only inside your minds.

You opened your mouth, started to tell him, you don’t have to stay, to remind him that he could move forward. Instead, you heard yourself say, “I’m here.”

The tremors under your feet quivered to a stop. You watched with trepidation and Seungcheol closed his eyes and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. Then, he held his hand out, waiting.

You slipped your hand into his, and then he turned and continued walking, ignoring his father’s memory calling out to him. The flickering stopped, the picture you were part of brightening again as you found the next door, stepped through, left his pain behind.

—

It got easier quickly. Seungcheol’s ability to press on, to maintain focus, strengthened.

The strolls through your mind went easier - you’d had years to practice maintaining focus, waiting until after to let the emotions hit you.

Seungcheol learned to be ready for you, after. He’d sit with you, silent, and breathe in tandem as you worked to let go, to release the images of Charron’s Revenge on the tech bay screen, the sounds of your parents’ frantic communication as they fought together, the fear crawling its way up your legs every time until someone in the bay said, “Charron’s Revenge, cleared to return.” The loneliness of being the only kid in the Dome, having no outlet except fighting. Everything that threatened your mind while you piloted, everything that you had to save for later - save for him.

You were both freshly turned twenty when you got green-lit to drive.

“Seungcheol!” you called across the mess hall, practically racing to your table. He turned, eyebrows raised, as you crossed the large room.

“We’re approved to drop!” you told him excitedly. It churned in you - finally, finally you could fight, you could prove what you could do, you could help. “We’re on the drop schedule for tomorrow!”

His grin was unfettered, unfiltered, just for you. He reached up a fist and you bumped it enthusiastically. You were too excited to eat, too excited to sleep. You tossed and turned, imagining experiencing a drop for the first time, imagining striding through the mighty sea like it was nothing, imagining staring down hell itself and bringing it to its knees.

You were still awake when you heard the alarms down the hall. Yours didn’t go off, because you weren’t on duty, weren’t approved to fight.

Down the hall, there was a flurry of commotion - shouting, rushing, people pushing past you as they pulled on boots and jackets.

“Cat-3 in the west bay,” someone shouted.

“Deploying Devil’s Advocate!”

You reached the tech bay, trying to stay out of the way but not unseen. When the Marshall strode by, you stepped sideways.

“Let us drop,” you said quickly, knowing time was precious. “It’ll be like practice. We can be back-up. We’ll hang back.”

“Absolutely not,” the Marshall said, already moving to work past you. “You’re not approved yet. We don’t need a liability right now.”

“We’re scheduled for tomorrow!” you protested, and then you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“We’ll get our turn,” Seungcheol told you quietly. Of course he’d come out, of course he found you.

You deflated. “It could have been us. We are hours from approval.”

He gave your shoulder a tiny shake. “We’ll get our turn,” he repeated. “Don’t make trouble.”

You glowered, but you knew he was right. “Fine,” you grumbled as Joshua and Jeonghan slinked past you in matching jackets and matching shit-eating grins. You stayed out of the way as they prepared to drop.

You stayed through the fight, listened to the control room buzz and chatter, until you heard, “Devil’s Advocate, cleared to return.”

Only then did you try to go back to sleep. Seungcheol gave your shoulder one more squeeze.

“Tomorrow,” he promised.

“Tomorrow,” you repeated.

—

Some people feel God at church. The history of tradition and the sanctity of ritual speak to them, help them feel part of something, help them feel that unnameable swell of something spiritual.

Some people feel God in nature. The patterns of the universe, the way math exists without human touch, the harmonies and patterns that seem too intricate for coincidence help them believe in a planner’s touch. The beauty of the outdoors allows them to wonder, to feel like they belong as a piece of this clockwork.

But you - you felt God when you stood before your jaeger, marveling at the power, the beauty, how it feels like yours, how it feels like Seungcheol before you’re even inside it. Duellona Fury promises you power, promises you purpose.

That hand was on your shoulder again, and it slid down to the center of your back before removing itself.

Beside you, Seungcheol stared up at your glorious machine.

“She looks sick,” he said, the grin taking over his face.

“I can’t wait to fuck shit up,” you murmured, your reverent tone at odds with the flippancy of your words.

“Ready?” the Marshall asked you, coming up to your left. “We’ll get you calibrated and dropped, and then you’ll do a lap of the bay. We’re sending out Pretty Savage just in case you run into trouble.”

The defensiveness rose in you quick, like a snakebite.

“We don’t need a babysitter,” Seungcheol said, voice hard. You reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze - a reminder to watch it, just as his hand on your shoulder frequently did for you.

“It’s just safety protocol.” The Marshall was unphased by the outburst. “Have fun, you two. Enjoy your first joy-ride.”

You screamed when you dropped, the exhilaration rushing out of you as Duellona Fury fell story after story before slowing and attaching to your jaeger’s mainframe.

Goosebumps raised along your arms when the Shatterdome’s sea-doors slid open, shudders traveling your body as you and Seungcheol stepped together, Duellona Fury stepping with you, her gigantic, metal form following every movement.

For the first time in your whole, careful life, you felt powerful. Your jaeger cut through the ocean waves like they were nothing, making an easy perimeter of the bay. In your head, you could somehow both hear and feel Seungcheol’s delight, his low-simmering desire to fight, to do something a perfect mirror of your own.

“How is it?” Soonyoung’s voice crackled in your ears, reminding you that Pretty Savage wasn’t far behind you.

“Incredible,” Seungcheol answered him, at the same time that you said, “It’s everything.”

It didn’t matter that you came from a family of pilots. It didn’t matter that you were raised in the Dome, training since you were young. None of that mattered. You were born for this - born to fight for your planet, born for Duellona Fury, born for Choi Seungcheol.

—

The west bay became Duellona’s playground; you and Seungcheol were often assigned to patrol there.

It was only a few months in that you faced a kaiju for the first time.

“Come in, Duellona Fury,” Nainsi’s voice came through. “We have a reading just a few miles north of you. Cat-2. Approaching at -”

Duellona Fury was turning due north before the command was even given.

“Are you ready for this?” you shouted to Seungcheol as Duellona slid through the water, the adrenaline singing in your system already.

“You know I am,” he answered, something hard in it, and the thrill in your stomach sparked.

When the sea split in half, the kaiju rising from the depths with an unearthly roar, you sank into a defensive stance, feeling Seungcheol move beside you, doing the same.

“Let’s fucking go,” Seungcheol said darkly, and launched forward, your arms rearing back for momentum before the first swing. The punch landed solidly, your whole body shaking once as the kaiju faltered backwards a few steps.

It opened its mouth and you glimpsed three rows of teeth bigger than a cow before it was lunging at you; Duellona Fury lurched. You tried to duck sideways as Seungcheol tried to move towards your opponent.

The moment of indecision cost you - the kaiju got its teeth on Duellona’s shoulder, knocking you back several steps. Beside you, Seungcheol roared as sparks flew near the bite.

“Are we breached?” you yelled, trying to steady your balance again.

“Not yet!” he yelled back, and you swung again, a hit landing hard enough to knock the kaiju loose, spitting it back into the sea.

You tried to move into a defensive crouch again; again, the jaeger faltered.

“Cherry!” Seungcheol yelled, desperation laced in his voice. “Cherry, don’t fight me!”

“Move with me!” you answered, and he did, miraculously, Duellona dodging left before an incoming attack.

Don’t fight me.

You rocked forward with Seungcheol as soon as you were clear of the kaiju’s trajectory, just as you’d done in practice thousands of times. Back in sync, Duellona Fury landed a kick to the kaiju’s middle that sent it stumbling.

“We’ve got him,” you said, feeling a win.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Seungcheol warned you. No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the kaiju exploded from the dark ocean, limbs flailing as it flew towards you.

Duellona’s arms came up and locked it in battle, the impact shaking you so hard that your teeth chattered against each other. You groaned with exertion as you tried to match its strength.

“I don’t think we can hold it,” you managed through grit teeth.

“We’ve got this,” your partner promised, and with a mighty shove, you managed to flip the beast over your shoulder and beneath the waves.

“Drop the bombs and head for the east side,” you said quickly, already moving. Duellona Fury followed your command, turning and starting an easy run through the bay’s churning waters, away from where the kaiju was struggling to its feet, furious and vengeful. As she ran, she dropped three small explosives, about sixty feet apart. The explosives slipped into the ocean depths.

“Ready?” Seungcheol asked, a little breathless. “Are we far enough away?”

“Light him up,” you replied. Seungcheol reached up and tapped the button; somewhere behind you, the ocean exploded.

—

“How’s your shoulder?” you asked, later, in the med bay.

“Not that bad,” Seungcheol said, but you could see the blood-stains on the bandaging.

“It won’t happen again,” you promised. “I think I just… practiced alone for so long. I forgot to listen. I’m sorry.”

Seungcheol shook his hand, eyes finding yours. “There’s nothing to forgive, Cherry. Forget about it.” Then, he brightened. “You know what I want to do?”

“What?” you asked, not entirely past feeling guilty.

His smile was devilish. “I want to go celebrate our first fucking kill.”

– 

You marked the passing of two years in statistics.

Three hundred and forty-six explosives detonated.

Two hundred and eighty-three drops. Two hundred and eight-three kills. 

Seventy-two mainframe repairs.

Twenty-eight achievement awards.

Nine television interviews.

Six upgrades.

One ill-informed “vacation” during which you both itched with anxiety, spending the whole time messaging your friends back in the Shatterdome desperately, praying you wouldn’t miss a fight in which you were needed.

Seven hundred and thirty days of living in and around Seungcheol’s mind and heart. But that stat should’ve gone first.

It was a good high. Your team had a good run.

It wasn’t a kaiju that reduced it to ash, not an attack that took your team out of the rotation of main fighters and sent your jaeger to gather rust and dust below the Dome. It was your own stupid heart.

There were a lot of moments that could have been it. Each time you walked into a fight knowing the danger, each time he ended up in the med bay reeking of antibacterial ointment and resentment. Each time you slid into your place beside him - space he saved only for you. Each time his voice bidding you goodnight from the bottom bunk was the last thing you heard at the end of the day. Any of these moments might have been the one to make you stop, gasp, suddenly slammed with understanding. That you loved him, that he was everything you couldn’t bear to be without, that he was part of you. But they weren’t.

There was no moment of realization at all.

Instead, it slowly seeped into your consciousness, as gently and naturally as morning dew collecting on pre-dawn petals. The knowledge clung to you, as impossible to ignore as damp feet after running barefoot through the yard just after sunrise.

If you knew something, that meant your co-pilot would know it, too.

Unless you tucked it away, pushed it down deep and cast his attention elsewhere, a mental sleight-of-hand. Look here instead. 

You were twenty-three, on a routine patrol, when Mission Control radioed Duellona that there was a reading in the bay.

“Looks like it’s only a Cat-1,” Mission Control told you.

“On it,” you told them, feeling your body already mirroring Seungcheol’s as Duellona picked up her pace, striding through the waves. 

You glanced sideways at him, and immediately wished you hadn’t. He was already zoned in, eyes focused and jaw sharp as he concentrated. 

He caught your gaze for only a second. “Focus, Cherry,” he cautioned. “Don’t get cocky.”

“I would never,” you retorted, and he laughed. You were both cocky; you both knew it.

For a second, things felt better. 

The fight was almost easy, when the ocean seemed to split in two and the waves fell away like wrapping paper to reveal the kaiju you’d been sent for. 

You swung and ducked, dropping explosives strategically, Seungcheol moving in unison with you. There was something graceful about it - something beautiful in the sync, something holy in the way your muscles mimicked each other’s. 

This is what happens when sunlight hits morning dew: it warms, lifts, makes the air humid and sticky until it burns away. 

It rose up in you, your love for him, infusing the air around you, infusing the neural handshake that he was deeply imbedded in.

No. 

You panicked, tried to do several things at once - tried to shove the feeling down, tried to think of something else, tried to push Seungcheol’s consciousness out of yours.

Duellona Fury lurched around you, shuddering. 

“Cherry!” Seungcheol screamed to your left, and then the kaiju hit, its full weight slamming into Duellona’s mainframe.

You both staggered, trying to right yourselves, as the machines around you blinked and beeped and rebooted. 

Seungcheol grunted under the neural weight of driving alone as you gasped and closed your eyes, trying desperately to fix it. Around you, you heard the floating words - recalibrating.

“Recalibrate faster!” you shouted, glancing sideways to see your co-pilot struggling to hold the monster in place, his face contorting with effort, arms straining against the machinery. He bared his gritted teeth, exhaling in a hiss between them. 

You gave yourself a shake, bouncing on the balls of your feet, desperate for the connection to take again so you could pick up your half, take the literal weight from him. As soon as you felt the neural handshake, you gave a mighty shove and Duellona flipped the monster backwards, the ocean receding and then coming back to slam her shins, swallowing the monster whole.

You both sank into a defensive stance, ready for the beast to rise again.

“What was that?” Seungcheol demanded, later, as he sat in the med bay, waiting for his nosebleed to stop. The nosebleed you’d caused by letting him carry a neural load meant for two.

“I don’t know,” you lied, still panicked and desperate. 

“Bullshit,” Seungcheol countered, eyes narrowed. He reached up and pulled the cotton away from his face, examining it. “I’m fine now,” he announced, and tossed the wad into a nearby trash bin, standing.

You fought the urge to cower, knowing he’d never let it go if you did. You followed him silently out of the med bay and back towards your dormitories. Halfway there, he slowed, then stopped.

Then, more calmly this time, he asked, “What happened, Cherry? You pushed me out.”

There was a slight pout to it, a sliver of hurt, and it sliced through you like something tangible, like you were actually wounded from it, like it might actually bleed.

“I don’t know,” you repeated. Guilt poked at you until you relented, gave him something that was at least partly true.  “I got scared.” 

“That can’t happen, and you know it,” he said seriously, his large frame casting a long shadow to your left as he leaned into your space. “You can’t keep secrets - that’s piloting 101. We’ve got to handle it. You know what’s at stake here.”

You did; you did, and that was entirely the problem. It wasn’t just feelings, it wasn’t just your relationship with Seungcheol at stake. It was your relationship with your co-pilot - your ability to fight was at stake, your ability to keep others safe. Your legacy.

Your parents’ wall of pictures flashed in your mind.

“I’m going to my mom and dad’s for a while,” you said quietly. 

He nodded, let you run away - trusted you to come back to him when you were ready, trusted you to let him in.

You weren’t sure if he was right or wrong, as you walked away and left him behind.

You didn’t go to your parents’, though. Instead, you went to the tech bay and sat, watching Duellona undergo simple repairs from her fight. You stayed there, the metal cold beneath your thighs, watching the tech team buff over a scratch on your jaeger’s torso, until someone dropped into the spot next to you, bumping their shoulder roughly into yours.

“Where’s Seungcheol?” Wylie, who co-piloted Fury Striker with Chan, was your closest friend in the Dome besides Seungcheol. 

“He’s pissed at me,” you answered, looking sideways, because the question had really meant, why isn’t Seungcheol with you? 

You weren’t sure she’d understand what you were going through - she and Chan had been obsessed with each other since they were kids. Neither of them had ever had to fear that their love for each other would mess anything up. It had been part of their deal from the start.

“What’d you do?” Wylie demanded, turning her full, unfettered attention on you. You wanted to shrink from the intensity of it - but that was always how Wylie worked: full wattage, all the time.

“Almost got us killed by a fucking Cat-1 tonight,” you muttered, angry at yourself, angry at your heart.

Wylie smacked your arm hard enough to send you sideways. “Cherry!” she scolded. 

“There was something I didn’t want him to see.” You said it in your head first, weighed the words, then forced them through your teeth. You hoped she’d just know what it was, hoped you wouldn’t have to force those words past muscle and bone, too.

Wylie’s face dropped into irritation. “Cherry,” she repeated, disappointment dripping from the two syllables.

You looked up at Duellona Fury again. 

“You can’t do that,” she told you, giving your ankle a little kick for emphasis. “You know you can’t do that.”

You can’t love him? Or, you can’t keep secrets from him?

You didn’t ask. You didn’t want to know the answer.

Seungcheol was waiting up for you when you finally returned to the dorm. You opened the door to find the first room - an entryway and kitchen, both - dimly lit. Beyond it, in the small sitting space, Seungcheol sat facing the door, his chin in his hand.

You knew the look on his face. You knew it so well that you almost ran from it, almost turned right around and went back out to the hallway.

Brows slightly furrowed, mouth a straight line, jaw tight. Eyes focused, locked in. It was the face he made in training before he bodied someone. It was the face he made in the field before an offensive strike. It meant he had his sights on a target, a problem, and he was about to throw everything he had at it.

And right now, you were the problem.

“Hey?” you tried meekly.

He nodded. Licked his lips. Stood. 

He’s pissed at me, you’d told Wylie. The energy radiating from your co-pilot was much more complex than that, the air around you palpably tense and teetering.

“How was it at your parents’?” he asked, voice low. 

You took one tentative step closer. “I didn’t go,” you admitted. One lie between you was already more than you wanted. “I watched them patch up Duellona instead. Talked to Wylie a little.”

He nodded, eyes still on you. Nervousness coursed through you, but it would be a lie - another one - to say it wasn’t laced with a little excitement. He was stunning, always, but like this - it almost took your breath away.

If he was in your mind right now, there’d be no question. He’d know all of it. The attraction, the desire, the fear, the affection, the love, the need. All of it. 

His eyes caught on a bruise peeking out from the short sleeve of your top. “You should’ve had them look at that,” he said, reaching out like he wanted to run his fingers over the dark splotch, but he was just too far away, fingertips closing around the air just an inch or two away. 

You shook your head. “You needed attention first. You carried the neural load alone.” Because of me.

“Only for a minute.”

“A minute too long. I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

It hung between you. You don’t know if you’d inched forward or he had, or both, but you were close enough to touch now when you hadn’t been just seconds ago.

He lifted his eyes, his gaze locking on yours. In the dim room, his eyes shone black. “You pushed me out.”

It was an accusation, but it was also a question.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, barely able to say it, your voice coming out in a hoarse whisper. “Seungcheol, I was scared.”

Maybe he was in your head. Maybe he did know all of it.

“Don’t be,” he told you. “Don’t be scared.”

His arms were around you though you didn’t see him move. It wasn’t the first time you’d let him embrace you - after a fight, in relief, or in victorious delight, or sometimes just in sleepy affection at the end of a long day. It was far from the first time that you’d found comfort in the space between his arms, strong and capable around your frame, your forehead pressed against his sternum as his heart beat directly into your bones. 

But it was the first time that his fingers, confident and sure, tipped under your chin, guiding you to look up at him, guiding your mouth to meet his.

You don’t know if you melted or exploded - it was somehow both at once. You gripped his back, feeling the muscles move beneath his t-shirt, relaxing into his hold and focusing on the feel of his full lips firm and hungry against your own. This was everything - everything you’d wanted, everything you were afraid of, everything you needed, everything that could rip your life apart.

You didn’t mean to whine, but it slipped up your throat and into the gasped space between your lips and his as you tried to pull in a desperate breath. He responded with a grunt, walking you backwards until the edge of the kitchen counter jutted into your lower back. His hands traveled, up to the back of your neck, back down to the slight curve of your waist, around to the back of your ass. He tugged your hips against his roughly, and you let your head fall back, panting, head spinning.

“Cherry,” he breathed against the newly bared stretch of your neck, his lips close enough to drag against your skin as he spoke.

Your hands found the back of his neck, gave the slightest tug upwards, and he followed, bringing his mouth back to yours. His tongue pressed yours briefly, your moan muffled entirely by his mouth as you tried to press him closer, closer, as if you wanted your rib-cages to meld, to slip together like fitting puzzle pieces. 

His hand slipped lower from your ass and wrapped around your thighs, taking only a second to lift you onto the counter behind you. You wrapped yourself around him immediately, pulling him into the space between your legs, arms around his neck, pulling him in, wanting to feel every bit of him against you. 

His hands found the hem of your shirt and lifted; you raised your arms in compliance and felt the cotton slip over your head and your hands.

“Yours,” you murmured, but he had already reached back between his shoulder blades, his own top joining yours on the floor.

Your hands found him on their own, sliding over his skin, fingers dipping between muscles, thumbs sweeping over shadows.

You kissed until you turned liquid, molten, your fingers wrapped in his hair. His fingers mapped every inch of your skin, as if his job was to report back on every previously unknown dip, every rough circle, every beauty mark or blemish. His fingers traced them all, his hands passing over you reverently.

The brush of his bare chest against your own was torturous; delicious until you were full, until you couldn’t take it anymore, until the electric-sharp thrill became uncomfortable. You tilted backwards, creating more space between your torsos but pushing your hips firmly into his.

You both groaned at the contact. You could feel the heat and weight of him now, and everything instinctual within you urged you to shift further, to bring that heat and heaviness closer to the part of you that ached for it. 

He pressed his hips into you without reservation, your core clenching in response to the movement and the friction. 

Then he leaned back, his hands gripping the edge of the counter, his arms bracketing you on either side, his chest heaving as he struggled to control his breathing. He drank you in, his eyes as molten as you felt. You leaned back on your elbows and met his gaze.

The moment expanded; nothing existed but his eyes and the pant of his breath and the way he smelled like he’d just finished a fight and the way he felt between your thighs, unmovable and steady.

Neither of you was connected to jaeger machinery, but you may as well have been, because you knew without a shadow of a doubt that your minds were connected, the drift be damned. Your eyes locked, you knew he felt everything you felt - the gravity of what you were doing, the love that drove you, the fire coursing through you. If there was going to be hesitation or questioning, this was the moment, this was the pause. But you were one, your minds were one, and there was none of that. 

His unvoiced question definitively answered by the certainty that flowed between you, Seungcheol moved to lift you again, taking you easily from the countertop into the dark of the room you share, settling you on your back on his bottom bunk.

Above you, mostly shadowed, was your other half, the only person who knew and understood every cobwebbed corner of your consciousness, the only person who had walked through your mind and found himself mirrored in every way that mattered. He was beautiful in the fractured light, his expression serious and gaze intense. 

You reached up to slide your thumb along his jaw and his eyes fluttered closed, his breath leaving him as in relief, as if you’d made some kind of admission. 

Making love to Seungcheol felt like drifting. His eyes on you as his fingers pulled you apart felt the same as the careful way he’d watch you when your memories got emotional, like he was watching for any sign that you weren’t okay, that you needed more or less or him. 

The way his breath and shoulders shuddered when he pressed into you for the first time felt the same as when he faltered in face of his father’s memory; both times, his fingers laced through yours and held tight until you could both breathe again.

He felt how you’d always known he would. Perfect - a perfect fit for you, a physical compatibility you had never tested but had always trusted would be there. He took you apart without even trying, and all you could do was hold onto him, feel all of him, feel all of it, and try to remember to breathe.

You didn’t speak as you moved together in the dark; the only sounds in the tight room were muted gasps, tiny moans muffled against necks, skin on skin, the obscene squelching sounds that accompanied each snap of his hips. You didn’t say the words that your lips tried to form - it’s so much, go slow for a little, Seungcheol, I love you, more - please, don’t stop. Maybe he heard them. Maybe this was a different way to drift, one that didn’t need wires.

You did your best to hold his gaze, losing sight of him only when you strained up to kiss him, when you nuzzled your face into the warmth between his neck and shoulder and gasped against a wave of sensation, when you couldn’t help but close them as they rolled back, your toes curling. 

He pressed his forehead to yours when he finished, your name slipping out of him, as if it had been literally squeezed from his lungs. “Cherry… Cherry…”

You lay together in silence for a long time, feeling your hearts slow, your skin cool. Your thumb traced his jaw again and again, slow, worshipful. “Cheol,” you whispered. My Cheol. My everything. You didn’t say the rest as you lay together in the quiet, in the dark, your heartbeats competing. 

You didn’t know that you’d drifted together for the last time. You didn’t know that your ability to neural connect could be broken.

–

The wind whips around you, stinging your face. You barely flinch. When you’d first relocated here, three years ago, the cold had made you literally cry during your first month. Just from having to walk from the door of the dormitory across the yard to the mess hall dorm, the intensity of it had sent you spiraling into misery - damning the circumstances that had sent you here, away from everyone and everything you knew and loved, to a place where the air hurt. 

You were sure it would hurt, this intensely, forever.

But time eased the sting, and despite your doubts you did adjust. Now the early morning wind feels bracing and refreshing rather than painful. You’ve adjusted to a lot of things since relocating to a small training center in Alakanuk, Alaska: the climate, the food, the no-frills campus you lived and worked on. Being away from your parents, from Wylie and Chan and Seungkwan and Jeonghan and all the other pilots you were friends with at the Shatterdome.

Being away from Seungcheol. Being partnerless, a half instead of a whole. 

Being unable to pilot, unable to fight. 

Being brokenhearted.

Just like the cold, the pain of your losses was the same - the sting of heartbreak and loneliness and homesickness faded to something ignorable, something you could keep tucked tight in the back of your mind. 

You can hear the noise from inside the mess hall before you even cross the courtyard. There are short of fifty girls ranging from ages seven to eighteen being housed here, but from the noise you’d swear it was at least a hundred. 

The buildings are single-storied, painted with a heavily-chipping grey-blue that sometimes seems to belong to the mist you often get rolling in from the ocean. When you’d first come, you’d legitimately thought they were painted that way as camouflage, meant to blend in with the sea. The other trainers had a good laugh about that. 

As you cross the courtyard between the trainers’ dorms and the mess hall, you breathe deeply, eyes on the birds alight above you. After a lifetime in the Shatterdome, you don’t take for granted the fresh air you’re afforded as you pass between buildings, outside, the sky open and changing above. You don’t take for granted the rhythm of the ocean, the cries of the gulls, nor the distant treeline.

It was Seungcheol who had noted that you were sheltered, having never lived outside of the Dome. 

It was Seungcheol you could blame - at least halfway - for your relocation here, where there wasn’t a jaeger or even a city for hundreds of miles. 

When you pull open the flimsy door to the mess hall, the noise triples. Several of the girls call out to greet you, and you give them a quick wave as you head to the table where the staff eats.

“You’re later than normal,” one of the other instructors notes as you reach for a piece of bread.

You shrug lightly, unbothered. “Still have plenty of time before the first class. What day is today, Thursday? I’ve got the little ones first, right?”

The all-girls training center is meant to teach fighting and the groundworks for drifting, but no jaegers are housed here, no teams launch into the icy bay. The girls here will grow up to pilot - if they get selected, if they get paired with a partner. 

You’re mostly here to teach them to fight, the way you trained in the Dome, but you do plenty more. Help brush hair in the mornings, console tearful faces, teach games and sports, mediate arguments. You also got sucked into running one literacy class a week, though you still haven’t figured out how that happened. 

It would be a lie to say this wasn’t fulfilling, that you didn’t love the girls you cared for, that you weren’t happy here with the ocean and birds and trees and laughter. In many ways, the seclusion of this training center is exactly what you needed to get back on your feet, to find strength in yourself, to heal with distance and time.

But, god, what you would give for a real fight. What you would give to feel both loved and threatened by Wylie, to rib at the guys, to hug your mom. What you would give to hear Seungcheol’s teasing pout, to catch his gaze across the span of your jaeger and know what his body and yours will do, to feel his fingers just barely graze your back when he knows you need to be reminded to focus.

The final time you’d tried, the neural connection never took. It was like trying to connect with a stranger. It had simply been still, a thing that was never alive.

“Don’t do this,” Seungcheol had begged, and that had been the nail in the coffin.

Don’t do this, he’d said. It had landed like blame. Like everything was your fault, and only yours. Like you had broken the connection on purpose, were keeping him out, barricading your mind from his when you desperately wanted everything to go right back to normal.

After that failure, you didn’t tell him you were asking to be reassigned. You didn’t want to give him the chance to say don’t do this a second time.

You’ve just ended a class, the girls starting to filter out through the training room’s side door towards the mess hall for lunch, when the center’s Administrator calls your name from the door.

“There’s a call for you on my line. I have them holding.”

A call? 

Adrenaline races through you; it has to be an emergency. Your parents and friends can reach you on your own device, which is tucked into your back pocket. To call the mainline here at the center means this is a base-to-base call, not a personal one.

You’ve only been in this office a handful of times in your few years here, and you shuffle awkwardly around the desk and pick up the receiver that sits abandoned on the chipped, wooden desktop. 

You greet the person on the line with your real name. 

“Cherry?”

Your Marshall - your old Marshall, from the Dome - sounds unsure if he has the right person on the line. No one has called you Cherry in three years. Even your parents have used your given name the few times they’ve said it on your weekly calls home.

“It’s me,” you affirm. “Is everything okay? My parents?”

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, and you heave a relieved breath. “Everyone is fine. This is official business. I want to call you in.”

You shake your head, frowning, well aware that he can’t see your reaction. Your body has said no, but you force yourself to ask, “Me? Why?”

“We’re down a few teams,” the Marshall says. “And -”

“You’ve got more recruits than places to put them,” you counter before he can finish. “Call one of the new teams up. Call three new teams up. You don’t need me.”

“We do - we need teams with experience, teams that are ready. Not rookies bumbling around looking for mistakes. We need precision. We need Duellona Fury.”

Your Marshall lays out the situation: the teams that are out, the problems they’re having at the breach - less time between attacks, more monsters at once. You’ve seen this before, you all have, and there’s protocol in place - protocol that starts with all hands on deck. 

You shake your head again. From the door, the Administrator of the center watches you seriously, like she knows you’re being taken away. 

“Marshall, with all due respect, I don’t know why you’re calling me,” you admit. “What can I give you? I can’t pilot Duellona.”

Not anymore. 

The Marshall sighs, like he knew this argument was coming and didn’t have a good response. 

“I think you can,” he says finally. “I’m not saying it will be easy, and I’m not saying it will happen quickly or without effort. But I think you can.”

“No,” you say, the first time you’ve voiced it. “You were there. You saw what happened. We can’t drift anymore.”

“You couldn’t then,” he points out. “That was three years ago. You’ve both had a lot of time to…. You’ve both had a lot of time since then. Things that were once too painful to carry into the drift… they’ve had time to mellow.”

This blow knocks you into silence. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, eyes steadfastly on the warped wood of the desk, fingers toying absently with the Administrator’s pen. 

He’s wrong, and you want to tell him so. Nothing had mellowed. You love Seungcheol just as much today as you did three years ago. The splitting ache in your chest that you’ve felt every day since you became aware of loving him has only worked its way deeper with time. 

And Seungcheol’s anger? The anger and betrayal he’d leveled at you, when he was sure you were keeping him out of your head on purpose? You couldn’t speak for him, but if you had to guess, there weren’t enough years in a human life to let that hurt mellow into something safe enough to drift with.

“Have you talked to him about this?” You’re afraid of the answer. 

The Marshall hesitates. “Not yet.”

“You might want to do that first,” you point out. “Before flying me back only to have him refuse.” 

The Marshall’s voice hardens, and you can just picture his eyes narrowing. “Mr. Choi will follow orders,” he says evenly, “and so will you. Asking is really just a courtesy.”

“You can’t order us into being able to drift again,” you snap, pulse suddenly pounding in your arms, your hands, your face, your chest. 

“No,” the Marshall says, and any previous friendliness is gone from his voice now, “but I can - and will - order you to try.”

The girls cry when you tell them you’re leaving, and it makes you want to cry, too. You hold it together as you give them hugs, hold it together as you pack your single bag of belongings. You hold it together in the passenger seat of the center’s only beat-up van, waving out the back window as the training center fades away.

It’s standing on the deck of the ferry, the coast receding and the sea wind clawing at your face, that you let it go. You bury your face behind your hands and feel it release behind your ribs. You cry for all of it - for leaving the girls behind, for leaving a place that had sheltered you like a sanctuary. For the time you’d lost at the Dome, for the fights you’d sat out, for the years with your parents and friends that had slipped away like sand between your fingers. For your fear that Seungcheol will turn you away, just as hurt and angry as he was one thousand and ninety-five days ago. 

You’d been so determined to keep him from walking through the depths of your love for him, in the drift. You were so scared it would be too much, too intense, too much emotion for the drift. You’d been scared it would be too much for him - that the weight of it would inherently ask for more than he could give you in return. You’d been scared it would ruin your partnership, your compatibility, your capability to co-pilot.

But that had happened anyway. You almost have to laugh. 

As furiously as your tears begin, they peter out quickly. You take a few deep gulps of salty air, use the backs of your hands to wipe at your cheeks and beneath your nose. As you calm down, you keep your eyes on the horizon, your hands tight on the ship’s railing, and you let your mind wander back to Seungcheol. Here, thousands of miles away, you let yourself think back to those last weeks before you left the Shatterdome. You let yourself wonder, for the first time, what exactly caused everything to crumble.

You’d been so afraid to let Seungcheol into your head once the loving him had taken over. Why had it scared you so badly? As you keep your eyes on the grey of the horizon, you puzzle it out in your mind.

Had it been the uncertainty? That had certainly played a part. Did Seungcheol love you, back then? If he didn’t, everything between you could have changed - your friendship, your partnership, your ability to drift. It hadn’t seemed worth the risk to lose it all - his presence in your life, your ability to fight together. 

But maybe he had. If he did love you, back then… that would have changed things, too. What if starting something romantic affected your drift? There were too many maybes, too many variables. It had seemed safe to push it all down, to try and keep him away from it. To try and keep things the same.

Of course, you’d lost it all anyway.

Even if he did love you three years ago, you think as the sea air whips around you, did he love you the way you loved him? What if it had been too much - the way you could breathe once he was with you, the way you kept each other in check - what if he had loved you, but not that much?

Had it been a mistake to keep him out? Maybe. But it could have been just as catastrophic to let him in. There was no way to know, now.

You turn away from the ship’s railing, away from the horizon and the sea, away from your mistakes. There’s no use looking back like this. You can’t change it. You aren’t even sure you can fix it.

You were hoping to sleep on the plane, but you’re woefully awake well after take-off. Determined not to keep ruminating on what had happened before you left, instead you wonder what awaits you now.

The most-likely scenario, you think, professional and polite - but cold. Like you, he takes duty and responsibility seriously. The airplane bumps, a pocket of air jostling the small craft, and your hands find the armrests and cling tight until it stops.

The best case scenario, of course, would be that enough time has passed that Seungcheol’s hurt has faded. Maybe, you think, maybe he’s moved on from harboring that anger. Maybe he’ll greet you warmly, maybe you’ll pick up right where you left off.

This hope, this day-dream, aches, so much that you blink it away and turn to watch the clouds through the window, a desperate distraction. You crave Seungcheol - you crave feeling safe with his arms around you, you crave the elation you’d feel when he entered the room you were in, you crave the peace that comes with two minds engaged in neural handshake - the peace of someone’s mind interlaced with your own, understanding you, operating with you, picking up half of your mental lift.

You crave his giggle when you say something stupid in the dark of the dorm before bed, his pout when he feels like he isn’t getting enough attention, you crave his voice echoing in your head long after he’s gone asleep because you heard him talk to you all day long. 

You crave his lips on yours, his teeth on your neck, his hands on your body, even if you only had it once. You’ve craved it ever since.

You crave closing your eyes and pressing your forehead to his sternum, feeling safe and quiet and like you belong. You miss the sanctuary of that space, chest to chest with him, something sacred in the way it exists only for you.

You know you can’t have it - any of it. The daydream isn’t real. Your curse will be to crave it forever, alone.

When you arrive at the Shatterdome, it’s your parents who greet you just inside. For a moment, you’re happy to be back, overcome with emotion as you hug them tight. They’ve aged in these three years. You’ve missed them awfully. You only tell them the latter. 

They walk with you to the Marshall’s office, where you’re meant to report upon arrival. 

You hesitate, covering the moment by tugging your duffle’s strap higher on your shoulder. Your mother reads you anyway, reaching out and giving your shoulder a squeeze. 

“It will be okay,” she whispers. 

Your father catches on. “You’ve faced down worse,” he reasons. 

You disagree. There’s no monster in the sea bigger than your love for Seungcheol, no wounding possible that could hurt more than losing him has. But you appreciate the sentiment, so you give them each a grateful nod, tell them you’ll visit after dinner, and turn to knock on the door.

“Come in,” the Marshall’s voice carries through the door, and you turn the knob and step inside. 

All you see is Seungcheol; the Marshall, the office furniture, the flickering screens on the walls all snap into nonexistence in the presence of your former lover. He’s the only thing in the room that comes into focus. Everything else is just fuzzy noise.

His face wavers for a moment when your eyes meet his, the muscles rippling as he fights to get them under control. 

You don’t know what reaction he’s fighting. You don’t know if he’s feeling happiness or hatred. You don’t know if he’s fighting a smile or a scowl.

You give him a quick bow in greeting, and he returns it. His face is stone, now, his mouth tight and eyes flat. 

He turns to face the Marshall, to receive orders, so you do the same.

“I trust your travel went well?” the Marshall begins.

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Even the single syllable of yes will come out of your mouth like gravel and dirt and sand, getting everywhere, leaving a trail.

“Your orders,” he says then, a bit of a sigh on his tone - as if he knows the uphill battle this will be, “are to reconnect as best you can. You’ll follow your old schedule. You’ll spar, you’ll meditate, and you’ll talk. After some time, we’ll try the drift again, see if the connection has recovered any.”

Seungcheol’s voice startles you when he speaks. “How long do you imagine it will be before we try?” he asks, just cold enough to have a sliver of sarcasm in it. 

The Marshall’s eyes narrow, just slightly, as if he’d caught it. “That’s entirely up to you two,” he says evenly. “When you were young and hungry to fight, you trained yourselves into exhaustion. You spent every waking second trying to cultivate the bond that would carry you into your jaeger. With the same intention and drive, I imagine you could be piloting Duellona within the week.”

You fight to keep your chin up, your eyes on the Marshall, instead of ducking your head and watching the floor. The Marshall lifts his arm and glances at his watch. 

“Your allotted time in Sparring Room 7 begins on the hour,” he says. This is his way of dismissing you.

In the hallway, you pause. “I’m just going to drop my bag in the dorm,” you say quietly, not looking at Seungcheol. 

He gives a tight nod. “Fine,” he says, and turns to go the other way, towards the sparring and training rooms. Clearly he intends to meet you there. You heave a deep breath, and turn back towards the wing with the dorms.

Stepping into the dorm you used to share with Seungcheol hits you harder than you thought it would. You’re not sure what you expected - to feel like coming home, maybe, or perhaps to be slapped with the memories of you and Seungcheol together, dancing around each other as you hurried to get dressed for a drop, lazing around in the sitting area after a full day of training. And, of course, the single night you’d spent together.

Neither thing happens. You aren’t overcome by a feeling of nostalgia and love, nor are you inundated by memories of what you’ve lost. Instead, the room feels exactly as it is: empty and still.

Your footsteps’ echoes taunt you as you walk through the kitchen, the sitting area, and into the bedroom. It’s pristine to the point of detriment; it feels like no one lives there. You set your bag on the floor near the foot of the bed - you can unpack later, after training - and turn to go.

Strangely, it’s stepping into the training room that slams you with memory and nostalgia. The wood cool beneath your feet, the vague smell of sweat and citrus-y cleaner, the sounds of punches landing and grunts of effort from the training rooms on either side - they all cocoon you in history, making goosebumps rise on your arms as the emotions surround you.

It makes sense, you think, as Seungcheol glances over his shoulder at the sound of your arrival. He doesn’t speak to you, just swaggers to the center of the room and takes a stance you recognize from Form One. Your body leads you opposite him, muscle memory guiding you into the first form you ever learned with him. It makes sense that this would be what felt like home - your minds going empty together, your bodies following the steps in unison. The sparring forms are the closest you can get to drifting without an actual neural connection.

Well, that and sleeping together, but you don’t see that on your agenda.

You stare at him across the invisible circle between you and try to read him. His face is cold and empty, but that already tells you so much about what he’s feeling. Seungcheol was never cold with you. When you fought together he slipped into that mode you loved so much - ready to level anything, chin lifted, eyes narrowed, confident and so very strong. But it was when you were together outside the fights that you had loved him best - often pouting, lips protruding, voice lifting into a whine. And the best of all - that smile, dimples creating shadows that beg for your thumb to press them, eyes squeezing shut with happiness or laughter.

Something must show on your face, because you watch the muscles in Seungcheol’s upper body untense, as if he’d been ready to fight and recognized that you weren’t.

“I’m good,” you mutter quickly, before he can ask. It feels better to lie to him before he actually asks you, like that’s somehow less dishonest. “Let’s go.”

Form One is basic - no hits, no fancy moves. At the training center, you’d teach it to the littlest ones until they had it memorized. It was really about control and communication - precision and alignment with your partner. You had to breathe together as your feet traced opposite circles across the knots in the wooden floor. You had to rise and bend in unison. It was about watching and listening.

You and Seungcheol could - literally, you’d tried more than once - do it blindfolded in perfect step with one another. Before. You don’t know if you still can. But, now, unblindfolded, it’s too easy.

You move through forms one through six without incident - both of you flowing as easily as water.

Form Seven is the first form that incorporates actual hits and blocks. You’ll have to touch for the first time, even if it’s forearm to forearm or ankle to shoulder. You move right as he moves left, crouch and circle as his right foot flies over your head, stand and punch where you know his open hand will be waiting to stop you.

It is, and you press your fist against it for just a second before spinning away to continue the form. You ache, even as your body continues following the steps, to have him entirely again - to meet his eyes and smile the way you both used to, because you were pleased with what your bodies could do. Because you had each other, completely.

After the tenth form, you bow, turn, and walk out of the ring. You drink some water, your back to him. Years ago you’d have used this break to chat, but you don’t know what to say to him. You’re scared that he’ll shut down anything you say, whether you choose small talk or go straight for the heart of the problem, and you honestly don’t think you can shoulder his rejection right now. So you stay quiet.

After a few short minutes of rest, you return to the center of the room. This is when you’ll spar for real.

You and Seungcheol had done this for years before things went wrong. You’d long ago adjusted to how hard you should hit, how to dodge his moves, how to make this a dance as much as a fight. Now, you feel like it’s your first time again.

Seungcheol attacks as you’d expect - all offensive, pushy, succeeding in herding you backwards even as you dodge each blow. You know his goal is to flip you, and normally you can avoid that by forcing him to go on the defensive as he avoids your own hits. Simply dodging won’t be enough - eventually he’ll cage you in unless you distract him.

You throw yourself into a summersault and manage to get behind him - an opportune moment to strike. You shift your weight to follow the blow as you twist your hips to send a kick towards his unprotected head. He turns just too late - the blow will land.

You can’t do it. You freeze, your core working to keep you upright as you fight your own momentum, halting the kick inches from his temple.

You know immediately that pulling the hit was a mistake. His eyes narrow, and he sweeps his foot at the ankle you’re balancing on. You crash to the ground, heaving a breath and taking quick inventory.

You aren’t hurt. Not this time.

“Get up, Cherry,” he says darkly, moving back to the center to start again. “And don’t do that shit again.”

He comes at you full force in the next match, too. You dodge and weave, but you don’t try to strike. You know he knows it; this isn’t how it used to work. You can almost feel him get angrier as you fight, but you can’t make yourself hit back. You want him to knock you down, you deserve to take some shots.

You take two blows to the back and one to a shoulder; you fall back unsteadily but manage to find your footing and roll away from his next kick.

The match continues - you taking a handful of blows, though none with the force to level you, and Seungcheol with his lip curled in fury.

“If you’re not going to fight, then leave,” he spits.

“Would if I could,” you retort without thinking. You mean that you don’t want to be here like this - not talking, cold, at odds. But you know it reads as not wanting to be here at all.

It seems like everything you say and do only hurts him more.

“I didn’t mean -” you start, and Seungcheol takes your arms and flips you over his shoulders.

“Don’t waste my fucking time,” he says, brushing his hands together and stepping back to give you room to pick yourself up.

“Don’t curse at me,” you answer, pushing yourself to your hands and knees, pausing to catch your breath before rising fully again.

He shakes his head, rolls his eyes a little.

You hate this side of him.

You know you deserve it. For pushing him out. For leaving him here. For loving him, messing everything up, when he never asked for that.

“Seungcheol,” you say, but he ignores you, pacing a few steps and then turning to face you, lowering himself into a defensive stance, ready to spar again.

“Cheol,” you try again. “Listen to me.”

“Marshall scheduled us time to talk later,” he says flatly. “Right now we’re scheduled to fight. So fight me, Cherry. Let’s go.”

The rest of the hour continues the same. By the time it’s over, Seungcheol storms out without speaking to you, furious over every single pulled punch.

You don’t know what to do to make it all better.

You shower quickly, dressing in dry linens, and then re-emerge for the hours you’re scheduled to meditate together. You hope that maybe this will help the situation - maybe not talking will be good for you, give you a chance to feel your connection without the chance to fuck it up with words.

You’re wrong; trying to meditate together is just as desperately fruitless as sparring had been.

You can’t focus at all - can’t shift your attention to your breath, to your body, to the earth beneath you, to the energy of your partner.

Your partner is the distraction, though he sits perfectly still, eyes closed. He might as well be yelling. His shoulders are tight, his jaw still clenched. Anger radiates off him so strongly that it makes your stomach hurt, makes you want to cower from it. You can’t stop watching him, hoping you’ll see him relax, hoping you’ll see the moment that he lets go.

He doesn’t.

“Your eyes are supposed to be closed,” he murmurs, and you feel your face heat, embarrassed that he knew you were watching him.

“I can’t,” you admit. Maybe, you think, you should just be brutally honest, starting now. It’s not like you could make this worse. “I can’t stop noticing how angry -”

“Then stop pissing me off,” he snaps, eyes opening. “Just a suggestion.”

“Don’t talk to me like that!” you cry, and push yourself to stand. You’re not sure why - maybe just to pace. “You never used to talk to me like this. Who are you?”

He looks at the floor, the first sign of guilt you’ve seen since you came home.

“Fine,” he finally bites back, and you know it’s as close to sorry as you’ll get. “I’ll reign it in. Sit back down.”

You shift your weight, arms crossed defensively across your chest, and close your eyes, deciding.

“Sit down, Cherry,” he repeats, and it’s gentler now. That’s what makes you cave, and you settle back across from him.

He’s less tense this time, so you eventually manage to close your eyes and count your breaths. But you’re still feeling for him, reaching for him in your mind, and coming up with nothing between you fingers. Touching him is as possible as touching the fog that used to blanket the training center, thick enough to blind you but impossible to grasp.

The pain feels like a cramp, except it’s behind your ribs instead of in your muscles. The pain grips and tightens, takes over. You want him, you want to be his again, you want to be inside these walls - where you used to fit comfortably. The fact that you’re out here, without him, aches so badly it makes you nauseated.

You want to beg him - let me in again, let me back in, let me be close to you again.

It won’t do any good, and you know it.

He was yours - you had him, you knew him, you could reach out to him and he’d pick you up. You’d taken it for granted, and you’d run away from it. You’d chosen to let it go, and now all you get is this: Seungcheol, cold and closed. Seungcheol, hating you for everything that happened.

—

Dinner is just as bad.

You go to the mess hall eager to see Wylie and Jeonghan and Seungkwan and all the other friends you haven’t seen in years. Wylie screeches like a banshee when she spots you, crossing the mess hall in a blur and hugging you so tightly that you both stagger, off balance, until Seungkwan joins the hug and rights you again.

“I missed you both so much,” you whisper, the only vulnerability anyone’s going to get out of you today.

“Then don’t leave again!” Wylie snaps, but you know the admonishment is full of love.

“I can’t promise,” you admit. Honestly, you’ve already made up your mind - you want to go back to Alaska. You’re not wanted here, not by the person who matters. What good are you, taking up a bed, if you can’t drift?

You’ve already given up hope that he’ll come around.

Seated at the table, you listen while your friends fill you in on what you’ve missed in three years - the fights in the bay, the new teams of pilots, the illnesses and injuries. You almost don’t notice Seungcheol silently takes a seat on Jeonghan’s other side, but something in you prickles, like you’ve sensed him.

The tension around the table heightens; the conversation goes a little stilted. When it’s apparent that he’s going to ignore you two seats down from him, Wylie slaps her hand flat on the tabletop.

“Come on, Seungcheol,” she scolds, and you’re sure no one wonders what she means.

His face goes dark so quickly it’s alarming. “Don’t,” he tells her darkly, one finger coming up to point at her in warning.

Her own eyes narrow and dart to her fork. Beside her, Chan’s eyes pingpong between them. He’s probably wondering if he should hold her back or join her.

“It’s fine,” you mutter, grabbing your tray and making to rise. “I’ll go.”

“Cherry, no,” Wylie protests, and then turns a glower onto your ex-co-pilot as if to say see what you did?

“It’s fine,” you repeat, standing. “I told my mom and dad I’d come by.”

You slink out before anyone else can argue.

You can’t even be mad at him - you did this by pushing him away. You hammered every last nail in the coffin by requesting to transfer. You pushed him out and you left him behind and now you have to face the reality that you can’t have him anymore. He isn’t yours, not anymore.

When you return to your dorm, he’s already in bed, the lights out. He’s facing the wall so you can only see his back, can only see the angry, tight shoulder poking out the top of the sheets. It tells you everything you need to know.

You don’t try to talk to him. You just go to bed.

—

You spend four days identically - fighting while sparring, not meditating, and avoiding Seungcheol’s ice-out. On the fifth day, your Marshall loses patience and changes your schedule. Your entire day is blocked to working on Duellona’s mainframe - buffing, repainting, greasing, and anything else you’re able to handle on your own.

“Since you can’t do anything else useful,” he adds, and you avoid Seungcheol’s eyes, ashamed.

Standing under Duellona’s unlit frame fills you with guilt. It feels like you’re letting her down, disappointing her by letting her rust here, failing your half of the bargain. You run your hands gently over the metal, finding the rough spots that need attention. Somewhere to your left, you can hear the telltale sounds of Seungcheol tightening bolts.

You work in silence for hours.

Eventually, you crack. You’re not sure if it’s the monotony of the task, the tension woven into the silence between you too, or being so close to your jaeger but unable to fight in it - maybe a combination. Something pushes at you from the inside, like a balloon trying to inflate under your skin and running out of room.

You flop backwards on the metal walkway, the grooves digging into your back. “What are we doing?” you ask, and you hear the tool Seungcheol had been using cling loudly as he sets it down.

“Following orders?” he says, stepping around Duellona’s side to look at you. “Fixing up the jaeger?”

“Fixing up the jaeger we don’t get to pilot?” you ask, sitting back up to look at him better.

“Is that what you’re here for?” he asks, the sudden ferocity of it surprising you. “To fight? Is that why you came back?”

You reach up to the walkway’s railing and pull yourself up. You feel yourself frowning at his question, at the heat behind it. 

“I’m back because the Marshall gave me an order,” you say slowly. 

“And that’s it?” he demands. 

You stare at him. You feel sure there’s more to the question, more that he’s asking. You feel sure, after knowing Choi Seungcheol down to the last molecule, that he’s really asking, you didn’t come back for me?

And it confuses you. You try to think about your split from his perspective: you’d shut him out, then slept with him, and then vanished. You’d made a lot of assumptions about his anger since then. You assumed he was angry at you for pushing him out of your head. You assumed he was angry at you for sleeping with him and then leaving. You assumed he was angry with you for ruining your drift, for ripping him away from the ability to fight. You assumed he was angry because he never knew why - never knew what it was that you were so desperate to hide, never knew why sleeping together had made things so much worse that the neural connection had fizzled into nothing altogether.

Is there more to it, his anger?

Should you call him on it, should you ask?

You take too long deciding. Seungcheol scoffs, like he’s disgusted with you. “I should have known,” he says coldly. “Princess of the Shatterdome, I should have known you only cared about piloting - about your legacy.”

This is something you’ve never said to him - that your desire to shine as brightly as your parents has weighed on you. This is something he’d pulled from the drift, something he only knew from tiptoeing around your mind before a fight. 

“That isn’t fair,” you say, your voice hard. “Is there another reason I should have come back? I’d love to hear it.”

He hears the challenge as it is - you didn’t ask me to come back, the Marshall did. You let me go.

He has nothing to say for himself, just stares back at you, eyes narrowed in anger, chest moving too quickly as he battles with his temper.

“Exactly,” you say curtly. The victory stings. It doesn’t feel like a win at all. “The bottom line is I’m here now, and we can pilot again if we can get our shit together.”

He shakes his head. “You left,” he says finally. “That’s the bottom line. You decided you were out, you decided you didn’t want me in your head, and then you left.”

He watches you, waits for you to say something. When you don’t, he lets out a derisive little laugh. “We’re both wasting our time here. The drift won’t work. We aren’t going to fix it.”

For the first time, fear slices through you like steel. “You can’t know that,” you say. You hear the fear in the way your voice comes out low and rounded, barely sounding like you at all.

“I can,” he retorts. “You know how I know? Because I don’t want to. You wanted me out of your head so badly? You got it. Can’t turn back now.”

He heads for the ladder, swings around and finds the third rung down with ease.

“So that’s it?” you ask his retreating form. Your heart is hammering and you’re starting to get tunnel vision. 

The only answer he gives you are his feet hitting each new rung with a clunk and a vibration that rattles up your legs.

—

You go to the training rooms alone and run through the forms just to do something; your mind turns the problem over and over as your body goes through the motions. After, you take a longer shower than normal, letting the water run hotter than you normally would.

After, you go to the Marshall’s office, determined. Or maybe resigned.

When he opens the door, he already looks irritated, like he knew exactly who would be on the other side.

“Requesting an audience,” you say flatly, fighting the instinct to cross your arms defensively.

He glances at his watch. “Five minutes.”

You step inside but leave the door open.

“I’m requesting transfer back to Alakanuk,” you tell him as evenly as you can manage. You’re sure he’s not surprised. “Seungcheol has made it very clear that we won’t be fighting together again. If that’s the case, then I can’t do anything useful here. But in Alakanuk I can.”

You pause, looking to see if you can read anything on the Marshall’s face - any hint that he’s considering what you’re saying, or that it’s a lost cause. He gives you nothing.

“Please,” you say. “Those girls need me. If I can’t help here, I can help them.”

The Marshall tilts his head just slightly. “Surely anyone can teach little girls the forms.”

You shake your head. “It’s more than that, and you know it. It’s not about the forms. I love those girls. I came back here to follow orders, and I tried. But if it isn’t going to happen… Please, don’t make me waste time here if I can be with them instead.”

The silence when you stop speaking seems to last for hours. Your heart pounds, and you work on keeping your breathing even. If he tells you no, you might just lose it, just give up entirely.

Finally, he takes a breath and seems to consider you. “If,” he says, and your eyes widen with hope, “your co-pilot agrees, then I will reassign you back to Alaska. But only if he will agree.”

“No problem,” you say quickly. Seungcheol was the one who said it was over. He should have no problem letting you leave.

When you step out of the Marshall’s office, Seungcheol steps out of the shadows. You should be surprised to see him, but in the Shatterdome it feels right that he just is wherever you are. That’s always how it was, before.

You look at him disdainfully. “I assume you heard that conversation?”

He nods, once.

“So?” you ask. “Will you tell him you approve, so I can go?”

For the first time since you returned, Seungcheol smiles, tight and sarcastic.

“No,” he says easily, like it’s kind of funny.

Fury erupts inside you; you can’t even pinpoint where in your body it stems from. “Why?” you demand. “Because you feel like I took something from you, so you want to take something from me?”

He doesn’t respond to this. You know you’re right. You know him. You know his mind.

“I hate to fuck up your narrative,” you spit at him, “but I’ve lost out here just as much as you have. You’re not the only one who lost the ability to fight. You’re not the only one who lost their partner.”

You wish you could tell him the rest - you’re not the one who spent three years with a broken heart on top of it. He had lost you as a partner and a friend - you had lost him in the same ways, and you’d had to harbor your broken heart.

He shakes his head. “Poor baby,” he bites sarcastically, and then takes off down the hallway, into the dark.

—

You stop sleeping at the dorm. Sometimes you sleep at your parents’, sometimes on Wylie and Chan’s tiny couch, sometimes in bed with Seungkwan, who kicks at you and whines that you take up too much space. Sometimes you sleep inside Duellona Fury, sitting up, your back against her metal frame.

The Marshall seems to have taken some pity on you. He schedules your mornings training the Dome’s recruits, and lets Seungcheol get back to what he was doing in your absence - which seems to be on track to move up in rank, to maybe become a Marshall himself, someday. It isn’t quite the same as being back with your girls, but training recruits feels at least somewhat fulfilling. And it keeps you and Seungcheol busy - separately - until afternoon.

Then, he schedules you to spar.

In your first week, you’d been unwilling to hit Seungcheol. You’d been feeling guilty for hurting him, sad for your time apart, hopeful that if you were soft to him, then he’d be soft back to you.

Now, you’re fucking furious.

For the first time, when the match begins, you hit him first. He’s surprised for only a second, eyebrows shooting up as he stumbles for balance, and then you watch something delighted and devilish fall over his face. Like he knows exactly what dance this is, and he’s been learning the steps in secret.

The match is brutal, reminiscent of your very first one, when you were both nineteen. You throw hit after hit his way; he blocks or dodges all of them. But he can’t get a hit on you either - you’re too quick, spurred on by fury. You’ve been angry in a fight before. But you’ve never been angry at him.

You spin and throw up a kick, expecting his forearm to rise and block it. Instead, you knock him in the jaw.

He grunts, hand flying up to cover his mouth, and you drop your stance with a gasp.

“Shit!” you cry, hurrying closer. “I’m so sorry! Are you bleeding? Let me look.”

“‘M fine,” he mutters thickly from behind his hand, but you ignore him. For a second, things are how they used to be between you. He lets you peel his hand away, lets you gingerly turn his head this way and that, even opens up so you can check his teeth.

“You’re gonna have a fat lip,” you tell him regretfully. “But nothing’s bleeding. Teeth look okay. Anything loose in there?”

He pokes around his teeth with his pinky. “Nope.��

You take a step back, cowed. “I’m really sorry.”

He laughs a little, wryly. “I bet you feel better, though.”

You bite back a smile. “Actually…” you say, and he laughs again. You both do.

Somehow, this seems to be the thing that cracks the anger you’ve both been encased in, unable to move forward or backward. You feel melted, and you wonder if he feels freer now, too.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you say. You mean the kick, but the words land heavy.

He avoids your gaze. “I need some water,” he says, turning and heading to the side of the room.

You do the same, sitting heavily on the bench where your water waits for you.

“Hey,” he says, and you look over, brows raised in anticipation. “Tell me about Alaska.”

You can’t help but smile.

“It’s so beautiful,” you tell him. “God, Cheol, the ocean there. And the birds, and the snow…”

He’s watching you, listening, but while he listens he stands and heads to the center of the ring, settling into a starting form. With a small smile, you follow, standing opposite him. He starts an easy match that’s mostly just following the eighth form. It includes some hits and blocks, but you both do them gently, easily, circling each other slowly.

“So you liked it?” he asks. You can hear how hard he’s working to make it sound casual.

“It was so beautiful,” you admit before ducking below a kick. “But it was also… really hard.”

“What was the best part?” he asks.

You smile, block a hit. He almost gets his hands on you for a flip, but you dodge around behind him. He turns to follow you. “Weirdly, it was taking care of them outside of class. We - the instructors - we kind of their moms, away from home, you know? I’m the one who knew Yejin won’t sleep unless someone sits by her bed for a while. I’m the one that knew that Farrah and Salome only argue because they’re competitive. I’m the one that knew that Maria and Anjali don’t know their times-tables, that Ximena can’t brush her own hair, or that Iseul is allergic to fish. I loved them. I loved knowing them.”

He looks at you for a long time. “Maybe you should go back,” he says finally.

It feels like a trap. 

You look at the floor, at the wall, then finally back at him. “If you’ll do this for real,” you say carefully, “then I’d rather be here. If we’re actually trying, then I don’t want to go.”

He’s quiet for a long time. Finally, he swallows hard, not looking at you.

“What was the worst part?”

There’s only one answer.

“Missing you,” you say. “Losing you.”

He manages to get both of your arms and hauls you over his shoulders. You land on your back so hard that the air is knocked out of your lungs and your eyes close protectively. For a second, you lay there panting, waiting for the pain in your back to settle down, waiting for the stars behind your eyelids to calm.

When you open them again, the ceiling coming into focus above you, the room is empty.

–

You have a hunch on where you can find him, and you head to the jaeger bay. Sure enough, he’s sitting below Duellona, knees to his chest, staring up at her.

You sit next to him and he doesn’t get up and leave, which you take as a good sign.

“I can’t do this if you’re not all in,” he tells you without looking at you. “You walked away from me once. I can’t let you back in my head if there’s any possibility you’ll walk away again. If you’re with me, I need you to be with me.”

Something prickles in the back of your head. You feel like you’re starting to realize something - the seed of an understanding is pushing delicately through the dirt, but hasn’t yet spread out its leaves under the warmth of the sun yet.

Something about his hurt. Something about why.

“I think we should try to drift,” you tell him.

This seems to startle him - he forgets to be cold, turns to look at you, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“I can tell you how much I missed you,” you reason, “and tell you about how I spent every minute just… steeped in regret. Or we can walk through it - you can see for yourself.”

You know what you’re risking. If he gets into your head now, he’ll see it all - he’ll know everything, he’ll be able to feel for himself the depth of your loss, the height of your love. 

But what’s the harm, now? You can’t lose him twice. Maybe it’ll be enough for him to realize you hadn’t left him because you didn’t care about him. Maybe it’ll be enough for his forgiveness. 

Maybe then, he’ll tell the Marshall to let you go back to Alakanuk. 

It’s Seungkwan you bother, since he’d been in mission control before finding his team of co-pilots. The sideways look he gives you as he walks to your conn pod is withering, but you know better than to take it personally.

You buzz with nerves. The last time you’d tried this, the neural handshake hadn’t even connected. There had just been nothing.

The second you hear neural handshake initiating, you almost sob with relief. You can’t even pay attention to the memories - Seungcheol’s memories - floating around you; you want to collapse, to press your palms to the ground and thank the universe for letting you back in.

His first memories are a breeze - the ones you’ve jogged through together hundreds of times: his first home, his school, his father’s hospital room, the Dome. Then you slow your pace, because this is new.

You’re facing the landing dock on the Shatterdome’s roof. Seungcheol stands with his back to you, watching through the glass walls as a helicopter waits, the pilot talking into his headset.

You watch yourself walk towards the chopper’s open door. You watch yourself leave, remember how hard it was to not look back.

You hadn’t known that Seungcheol had been there, that he had seen you go.

The pain that accompanies the memory hits you like you’re drowning, like it’s too deep and you can’t feel the bottom, and you feel the machinery falter around you.

“Hey,” you say quietly. “I’m with you.”

He nods, still doesn’t look at you. But the beeping stops, the connection holding. 

There’s knowledge in this memory, knowledge in this pain. Seungcheol’s thoughts in this moment read in your head as clearly as if he said them aloud - I did this. I pushed her too far; I made her run.

You can’t stay here, can’t let him wallow in the memory of pain. You had to move forward - that’s how the drift works. Reluctantly you step towards the door, glancing over your shoulder to see if he’s following. 

He is. His jaw is tight and fists are clenched, but he is.

When the next memory - not in order of chronology, clearly - appears before you, you want to vanish into the floor. You’re watching yourselves in Seungcheol’s bed. Thankfully, you’re sleeping - this was after. But in the memory, Seungcheol is awake, laying on his side, his eyes drinking in your sleeping form.

The emotions and the knowledge come with it in an instant. The tenderness and the love he felt in that moment surround you now in the memory, unignorable, impossible to mistake. 

He had loved you. He had known you loved him, and he was showing you how he felt. The understanding slams you so hard that you think you stop breathing.

“Seungcheol,” you whisper. Around you, the scene begins to flicker, the connection starting to react to the oversaturation of emotion.

“We can talk about it after,” he says, voice hard. “Don’t stay in it. Find the next door.”

Your eyes find the door, but you feel frozen. You want the connection to drop, you want to unlock yourself from the stupid drive-suit and throw yourself into his arms, you want to apologize for leaving him thinking he’d pushed you away, thinking that he scared you into running.

“Cherry,” he warns. “The drift can’t -”

You know. 

And you owe him your side of the story.

You take a steeling breath and head for the door. You don’t take his hand. You don’t know if you deserve to, if he’d want you to.

When you step through the doors, you’re confused - you’re still in your dorm. Your bodies are both in the bed.

Now, though, Seungcheol sleeps, and you - the memory of you - sits on the edge of the bed, your head in your hands. 

You feel the emotion the memory holds, which means Seungcheol does, too.

Fear. It’s still fear - fear that he’ll know, fear that what you just did together will make it worse, make it harder to hide. 

Beside you, Seungcheol’s eyes go wide. 

“We have to move on,” you tell him. He looks at you, then back at the memory. 

“You -?” he starts to ask.

“After,” you tell him firmly. “We’ll talk after.”

You open the door, and you’re suddenly outside, surrounded by white.

Alaska.

The emotion knocks you over with the fury of an ocean wave - even though you know you’re not supposed to let it. This was how you had felt every day that you were gone, and it screams at you now, determined to be heart, determined to be felt. The loneliness, the regret, the despair and heartbreak all rise up in you, overtaking you, as snow falls gently and silently around you.

And the love. That never went away. That never mellowed, as the Marshall had put it.

If he didn’t know before, he has to know now. There’s no way he couldn’t.

Seungcheol squeezes your hand, and you almost jump. You look down at your linked fingers in shock, then up at him, eyes wide.

“We should go back and talk about this,” he tells you, but his grip on you is firm, assuring.

“Okay. It’s this way,” you tell him, trying to breathe, and you lead him by the hand through the snow. The fog strengthens as you walk, until you can’t see anything but grey, can’t see anything but Seungcheol’s hand in yours.

You continue on. You know where to go. When you step through, the fog vanishes as if it was never there, nothing gradual about it. With the fog gone, you can see clearly where you are - inside Duellona Fury’s conn-pod.

As you begin to work on the straps, you call through the intercom, “Kwan? We… need some privacy. We’ve got to talk - alone.”

His voice crackles back at you. “Yes, I’m leaving, I’m already gone. If you hear popcorn crunching, no you don’t.”

Seungcheol gives you a flat look. “Let’s go home and talk,” he suggests.

Home.

You are so afraid and so hopeful. You don’t know how to juggle both.

Back in your small living space, you sit like you’re meditating.

“Let’s figure this out,” he says. “No lies.”

“No lies,” you agree. Your knees touch, and you reach to take his hands. He lets you, giving your fingers a squeeze.

“You knew,” you say first, bordering on accusation. “I was trying so hard to hide how I felt about you… but you knew.”

He nods, his eyes on you. “And you,” he says slowly, “didn’t… know? That I knew?”

You shake your head, confirming. “I didn’t know. I thought I hid it.”

He smiles at you, a little placating. “Not as well as you would have liked.”

“And you…” You chicken out, swallow, force yourself to be brave. “You… loved me, too?”

He nods. “I did.” 

The air leaves your lungs so forcefully that you bend over, pressing your forehead to the tops of your hands. He pulls his hands from yours and you feel his touch, firm and reassuring, cupping your shoulders and rubbing his thumbs along them.

“We felt the same,” you echo into your shins. “You loved me.”

“Cherry,” he says above you, his voice like a plea. “I don’t understand why - when we… when I… I felt like once I forced you to look at it, it was too much. You ran.”

You sit with this for a minute, stunned and processing. His hands are back in yours, which you take as a good sign. 

“You thought… wait. You thought, after that night, that I knew how you felt, too?”

He nods. “I thought you knew,” he says, confusion still present in his tone. “I thought we both knew. I thought if it was out in the open, the glitch in the drift would be fixed.”

You wipe at your face, trying to breathe. “And instead,” you realize, “we couldn’t even connect, because I was still trying to hide it from you, and then you were hurt. I thought it was broken. I thought we really broke it forever.”

He looks at you in wonder. “That’s why you left,” he breathes, and you know he’s understanding this for the first time. “You thought we made the problem worse.”

It’s your turn to nod. “After we…I mean, I knew if I couldn’t hide it from you before that night, there was no chance I’d be able to hide it after. I kept you out in the first place because I… was afraid. I was afraid for you to see how much I loved you. It seemed… hopeless to keep trying.”

The words lay bloody between you, but his grip on your hands is strong, and you take another breath.

You push on, adding, “I was afraid it would be too much. I was afraid everything would change.”

Which it did, you think. He nods, like he hears this, like he agrees.

He releases you and leans back, blowing out a loud breath. “We’re so fucking stupid,” he says, and you splutter out a laugh.

“We really are.”

“I can’t believe we lost three years over that,” he says.

“I can’t believe you thought it was your fault that I left.”

“I can’t believe you left in the first place.”

This makes you smile, guilty. “That’s fair.”

You push yourself to stand; Seungcheol mirrors you, as if you’re already in the neural handshake, bodies working in tandem. 

“Cherry,” he says quietly, stepping closer. “It could never be too much. I love you. I’m crazy about you. I’m only me when I’m with you.”

You remember him, the night you’d slept together, telling you, don’t be afraid. He’d told you, after all, and you’d missed it entirely.

You close the distance between your bodies and kiss him hard. His arms circle your waist immediately, like they were waiting for you. He kisses you back hungrily. His mouth meets yours eagerly, his tongue stroking yours confidently before he shifts his attention to your jaw, your neck, then your mouth again. His hands don’t wander this time - instead he holds you so firmly it almost hurts, like he won’t let you move an inch, won’t let you out of his grasp ever again.

You cradle his face between your hands, let your teeth gently scrape along his bottom lip. “Cheol,” you whisper, then kiss him again. “You’re everything.” It’s what you should have said aloud the night you’d slept with him.

When the kiss breaks, he presses his lips to the top of your head and holds them there, melting around you a little. You give his middle a squeeze, revel in his heartbeat surrounding you like music.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I didn’t just say it.”

“Me too,” you tell him, holding him just a little tighter. “I should never have tried to hide it from you in the first place.”

He kisses your temple, and you hold each other, silently, each grappling with the time you’d wasted apart. 

You’re interrupted by a knock. You break apart, puzzled. You’re even more puzzled to see your Marshall at the door, and Seungkwan literally bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement.

“I’ve heard your drift is working again,” the Marshall says dryly. 

You look over your shoulder at Seungcheol, grinning. “Seems like it.”

“There’s a Cat-1 reading in the bay. I was about to alarm for Pretty Savage to drop, but Savage’s team insisted I give you the opportunity first. They can follow as backup. How do you feel?”

Seungcheol is at your side. He looks at you, his face open and raw. “Well?” he asks you. “Are you in, or are you out?”

“I’m in,” you tell him seriously. “I’m with you.”

You thrum with excitement as a tech team helps strap you into the drive-suits, and you can’t help but shoot Seungcheol a wild grin, your happiness alive and unbounded. 

You tell mission control - Nainsi, probably, just like the old days - “Ready and aligned.”

Mission Control - definitely Nainsi - responds, “Prepare for neural handshake.”

The artificial voice bounces around you - 3… 2… 1… neural handshake initiating…

Around you, the machines flicker busily. Neural handshake strong and holding. Now calibrating…

You’re crying, but you ignore it. You beam through tears, looking sideways at your co-pilot. His eyes dance as he smiles back at you. You want to unstrap yourself to the drivesuit and go kiss his dimples, the dimples you hadn’t seen in years. You resist the urge.

“Ready to drop?”  He looks sideways at you, sly. 

You scoff at him, your own grin cocky and sure, like you’re twenty again, like nothing had ever been broken between you. “Been ready. Let’s light ‘em up.”

– end

thank you so much for reading!!!!

stay tuned for more fics in this universe! Wylie and Chan will get their own fic written by @sailorrhansol, as will Woozi! I'm also planning a Vernon x Reader in this universe, too! Should be a fun time!!

[anachronistic-falsehood]

BREAKDOWN IN THE COOKIE AISLE AT WORK

[wetblanket7]

touya todoroki headcanons bc im in love with this man ᯓᡣ𐭩

have i finished watching mha? no. does that stop me from writing about dabi? no <3

──── ᡣ𐭩 ─────────────────

touya todoroki who once decided to dye his hair red and immediately regretted it. he dyed it black again after enji took thousands of photos of him

touya todoroki who askes you to name 5 songs after he saw you wearing band tshirt

touya todoroki who tells his siblings they’re adopted or were found in the trash

touya todoroki who always goes to fuyumi for love advice bc he’s a total loser

touya todoroki who loves underground midwest emo bands and thinks his music taste is superior (its not)

touya todoroki who’s still unemployed and lives with his parents

touya todoroki who told you that he’s in lesbians with you

touya todoroki who always cheats when they’re having a family game night

touya todoroki who sags his pants

touya todoroki who only wears beat up converse and dr martens (i can also see him having new rocks)

touya todoroki who plays bass

touya todoroki who pierced his nose himself after rei told him he can’t has piercings

touya todoroki who often skateboards with keigo

touya todoroki who plays every male manipulator game with his online friends (mostly with shiggy tho)

touya todoroki who definitely uses dabi as his nickname (he thinks he’s soo cool)

touya todoroki who’s a momma’s boy

touya todoroki who is a spit image of enji

touya todoroki who’s the most stereotypical male manipulator ever

touya todoroki who definitely had an opium phase (keigo uses his photos form that era to blackmail him lmao)

touya todoroki who manspreads all the time (he literally can’t seat normally)

touya todoroki who never saw a brush

touya todoroki who has minecraft server with his siblings

touya todoroki who listens to lil peep

touya todoroki who uses tiktok brainrot with natsuo daily (rei is tired of them)

touya todoroki who steals rei’s eye pencil

touya todoroki who’s your passanger princess

touya todoroki who wears his clothes as long as they pass the sniff test

touya todoroki who knows his hogwart house, greek god parent, mbti, birth chart and which type of bread he is

touya todoroki who gets offended if you don’t answer his tiktoks but won’t answer yours for weeks

touya todoroki who never wears matching socks

touya todoroki who can’t solve math problems for shit but will explain the entire plot of evangelion to you

touya todoroki who dated one or two girls before you and they both dumped him

touya todoroki who’s love language is annoying everyone around him

touya todoroki who consumed every media you ever mentioned

touya todoroki who wears every single bracelet fuyumi, natsuo and shoto made for him

touya todoroki who gives you flowers he stole from rei’s garden

touya todoroki who will come up to you and give you a rock bc it reminds him of you

touya todoroki who’s your trained photographer <3

──── ᡣ𐭩 ─────────────────

this is probably very ooc but im projecting. i need a man like him so bad its not even funny anymore

and hes very scott pilgrim/rodrick heffley coded. watch him fight your seven evil exes and cover baby for you <3

sorry for any mistakes my god why is posting so stressful lmao i literally feel like i made so many grammar mistakes 🔥🔥

btw if you know downtown mtv then theres this one scene where alex takes serena’s photos at the graveyard this is literally you and touya frfr

[chaconnehoon-reblogs]

Obsession- L. HS

✶ Heeseung x Fem! Reader

Synopsis- Who knew the shy, sweet boy from high school would change so much over a couple years? When you realized what you had been missing out on, you didn’t hesitate to show interest in him. Who knew what he really felt after finally having you to himself?

Word Count: 20k

Warnings: SMUT!! Lots of smut and mature themes in general, controlling parents, toxic relationship, Heeseung and reader are both a tiny bit crazy and obsessive

Smut warnings: Kissing, oral(f&m), dry humping, unprotected sex, public sex, masochism, voyeurism, hair pulling, sadism, squirting, etc. that I forgot, I apologize

A/N: Lots of very dark themes, please don’t read if you’re looking for pure vanilla smut bcs this is not the place!! I had many, many ideas for this but decided to take it easy as it’s my first full writing, so look forward to more of my ideas in the future! This was also proofread so many times but I’m sure there are still a few mistakes I missed, pls ignore them :)

Taglist:

@haelahoops @rayofsunshineeee @wannieepisod @ke4s @jungwonloveer @cyberinnie @tasnim10 @hee-yunie @iamliacamila @bluesoobinnie @sumzysworld @blckvper @capri-cuntz @parksunghoonsgf @ladyartemesia @seokseokjinkim

This is fiction and the scenarios are completely fake and from my brain, none of the characters are like this in real life, MDNI!

For once in your life, you felt free.

The moment you came out of your mother’s womb, grumpy and crying, were thrown under constant observation. Every friend you made and every building you stepped foot into was to be researched and evaluated by your parents before you were given their permission to have a social life.

When you were in kindergarten you were accidentally pushed off of the play structure by another student, but stood back up with no serious injuries. However, when your mother picked you up and seen the cuts from the bark on your arm, she demanded you tell her who had hurt you and later requested that the teacher kept you and the boy separated for the rest of the year.

The next day, the same boy introduced himself as Jake and handed you a heart lollipop, asking you to be his valentine. And so you agreed, and you agreed every year after that, until he eventually stopped asking when you both knew the answer would stay the same.

Your mother disapproved of Jake, claiming he’s too mischievous and a bad influence on you. He was both of those things, but he never showed it, which is why you came to the conclusion that your mother just didn’t like him simply because he’s a boy. She had to put up with him though, because of your fathers undying love for your friend, claiming him as his “son he never had”.

Your friendship with Jake had blossomed since day one, and he was your one and only best friend from that point on, until you both started your freshman year of high school. High school was different; there were different subjects, different sports, different people.

So, when Jake showed up at your front door one day after school with two boys, one on either side of him, your mother slammed the door in their faces and called for you to come downstairs. She dragged you to the window and cracked the blinds open enough for both of you to see through, and then shut them before looking at you with her arms crossed. “Explain” she spat out and your eyes widened as you shook your head. “I don’t know them ma, I swear!” You put your hands up defensively and then she rolled her eyes before peeking through the blinds again.

She let out an unbelieving ‘mhm’ and you threw your arms in the air. “I promise! They’re probably just Jake’s friends, he’s a guy and he needs to have other guy friends too, you would know.” You hissed the last phrase at her and you could see her jaw clench before she turned to you again. “Don’t use that tone with me.” She remained calm while she spoke but you’re sure if you looked hard enough you could see the steam coming from her ears.

“I’m just saying” you started speaking before plopping yourself on the couch just below the window, “You always say I shouldn’t be friends with boys, especially the ones like Jake. So maybe he made new friends that are like him.” You looked at your mother as if waiting for her validation, but she just kept her eyes on the boys. You joined her again and appreciated the fact that they didn’t give up and leave, which was probably Jake’s idea considering he was standing with his arms crossed and staring straight into the door.

Before you could try to convince her more, your father was pulling up in the drive way, honking when he noticed the kids at his front door and you tried not to giggle when the three boys jumped and whipped their heads around. You seen Jake slightly relax at the sight of your dad walking up to them with his keys in his hand, and he was eventually unlocking the front door and letting them inside.

Your mother huffed before your father was pulling her into a nearby room and you heard him harshly scold her for being so immature. Outside of the room, Jake was squeezing you half to death in a tight hug, before letting go and whispering an apology for bringing two strangers along with him. “This is Jay” he turned to the boy on his left and put an arm around his shoulder, “and this is Sunghoon” he swung his other arm over the other boy’s shoulder, but had tilted slightly upwards due to the height difference.

You held your hand out and greeted both boys, looking them in the eyes and noting how Sunghoon was quick to avoid eye contact, instead looking at the floor. Jay on the other hand, was confident in himself and gave you a little smirk as you smiled at him. He had low, lazy looking eyes, but his smirk was sharp and showed off his dimple nicely. Sunghoon was shy, but he was nonetheless gorgeous and had the most beautiful eyebrows you’d ever seen. You were also quite fond of his dimpled smile, which shows his sharp canine teeth that resemble vampire fangs.

From that day on, Jay and Sunghoon were added to your friend group and were soon considered your best friends, along with Jake of course. Jake was your number one from the start and you will always see him as that, trusting him the most with your life.

So, when you were both 16 and upset that you hadn’t had your first kiss yet, you let Jake take that title as he kissed you behind the school after you had asked. He was pretty inexperienced himself, but being handsome from an early age allowed him to kiss a few girls in his life before having the pleasure of kissing you. This didn’t change anything in your relationship, staying as friends and promising to never cross that line.

Even if there were no strings attached, the kiss ignited something inside of you, having you crave more and more until you were satisfied. For the rest of your high school experienced, you had experimented relationships with a few people, even going as far as kissing other girls, but realizing you liked the spark you got from being with a man.

✶.

Your best friends were by your side throughout everything, giggling along with you while you talked about a new boyfriend, or supporting you when you wanted to egg the same guy’s car after he cheated on you. The boys were by your side when you fought with your mom about moving away for college, even helping you move into your apartment when you did. They were even by your side the day you started your third year of college and you had gotten accused of sleeping with another girl’s boyfriend at a party. But instead of encouraging you to fight her when she started putting her hair up, Jay had thrown a cockroach at her, resulting in the four of you running into a random classroom to hide.

“Seriously though, who even tries to start a physical fight anymore, we’re too old for that.” Jay was shaking his head and laughing through his sentence like it was the funniest thing he ever experienced. “Who throws bugs at other people!?” Sunghoon smacks Jay in the back of the head before speaking again, “We’re too old for that too!” Sunghoon’s voice sounds horse like he’s really stressing the situation as if he’s so mature himself.

“Oh come on!” Jake is speaking now, adding a whine to his voice, “Don’t act like you didn’t put that snake in a can prank in Heeseung’s backpack last year!” His recollection causes everyone to burst out laughing, and you try your best to laugh along despite your lack of knowledge of the situation.

“Right! Who could forget!” A fifth voice pulls you out of your thoughts as the five of you go quiet, slowly turning around to find where the voice was coming from. Your eyes widen as you mentally facepalm for not looking around the room before entering.

“Oh! What’s up Heeseung?” Jake is greeting him before you can even register who the boy a few feet away from you is. Heeseung sighs before walking up a few steps, “Hi Jake” he shifts his focus, “Jay…Sunghoon” he gives a glance towards the other two before locking eyes with you. “Y/N” he says lowly as if he held anger behind his voice.

You don’t understand why he would be angry at you. Perhaps it’s the fact that you stumbled into a random classroom, and maybe he’s busy with something that you interrupted. But with the way he’s looking at you, it feels deeper than your understanding.

“Heeseung! Hi!” You smiled softly at him, trying your best to not sound intimidated despite your breathy voice. “It’s been a while, huh?” You try making small talk and you hear Jay snicker next to you.

“It’s been three years.” Heeseung sounds snarky as he walks up the last few steps with his hands in his hoodie pocket and finally stands across from all four of you. “Right…three years.“ you nod your head and you hear Sunghoon clear his throat, “Look Heeseung, we’re not trying to start anything, and I apologize for what I pulled last year.” Sunghoon defends himself, standing up straighter as if he’s sizing up towards Heeseung.

A few silent seconds pass before Heeseung is throwing his head back and bursting out in laughter. The three boys around you all exchange quick glances before Heeseung is running a hand through his hair and speaking again, “You guys are too funny.” He takes one long step over, sticking out his hand like he’s offering it to Jake.

You look at Jake from next to him, watching as he swallows dryly while looking at Heeseung’s extended hand. You nudge his opposite arm slightly and he breaks his gaze, looking at you before looking at Heeseung’s face, which is now settled with a small smirk. You nudge him harder in hopes that he’ll take the hint, and he eventually does considering he’s quick to pull his hand out from his own pocket and dabs Heeseung up, a loud clapping sound following.

“Relax, Sim” Heeseung says lowly this time and you hear the rasp in his voice. Jake lets out an awkward giggle and retracts his hand, wiping the sweat off onto his thigh, “What are you doing in here anyways?” Heeseung looks around the room before turning back to your friend group, “Well, I wanted to get to know the location of my class before it started.” He raises a questioning eyebrow, “I’d assume you all were too if I hadn’t overheard your conversation.” Heeseung laughs to himself and you suddenly remember that you hadn’t found your class yet. “Oh! That’s right! Well I guess we should probably get going then.” You sweetly smile at Heeseung and the boys next to you all let out sounds of realization when they remember they still need to find their classes also.

“What classes do you guys have?” Heeseung sits atop one of the desks and you wait for the boys to speak up, but instead they’re all searching for their schedule on their phones. “Um…I have intro to music prouction.” You sound confident this time, but slowly loose the confidence once you see how deeply Heeseung is staring at you. “Oh! Me too!” Sunghoon smiles brightly and wraps an arm around your waist, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Heeseung. “Hey! Me three! Let’s go!” Jake flexes an arm proudly while patting Sunghoon on the back. “Well, looks like we all have it together!” Jay suddenly says and joins your circle of cheers.

Heeseung watches from the table he’s sitting on, noting how close you and the boys seem. Of course you’re close, you have been since you’ve met, but Heeseung still can’t help the feeling of jealousy he senses deep in his stomach.

“I guess we should go look for the room then.” Jake releases from the group and heads for the classroom door until Heeseung is speaking up again. “No need” he states simply and you all turn to look at him for the nth time. “This is the intro to music production room.” He says with a shrug, looking around the room. You again feel the need to mentally face palm as you failed to notice the set up of the classroom, but also feel thankful that you hadn’t knocked over any important and expensive equipment.

You all stand awkwardly for a few seconds until the bell suddenly rings and Jake lets out a small yelp. You giggle at him and you can see Heeseung’s jaw clench as he quickly stands up and then sits down at the same table’s seat. You glance around the classroom, too uncomfortable to sit anywhere but not sure if it would make Heeseung uncomfortable to sit next to him. Before you could make a decision Jake is pulling you into the seat next to Heeseung, and then sitting next to you with Sunghoon and Jay following.

You glare at Jake and he gives you big puppy eyes and juts out his bottom lip, pouting as an apology. You roll your eyes and stare back towards the front of the class, trying your best to focus on the people filling up the seats while Heeseung is looking at you through his peripheral vision. “So,” Jay’s voice startles you and you feel your knee bump Heeseung’s, but he’s quick to place a hand on it to keep you from moving further. You look down at his hand before looking up at him through your eyelashes, then quickly turn your attention towards Jay when he’s talking again.

“Heeseung, um, I didn’t know you take music production classes.” Jake and Sunghoon hum in agreement and you’re wondering how long it’s been since they had last seen him. “You did” Heeseung is quick to spit out, almost annoyed. “When you put the snake can in my backpack? That was in our ethnomusicology class.” He pauses and you can almost see a hurt look in his eye as he looks past you and towards your friends. “And the year before that was when we all had music theory together.” You widen your eyes at the realization that your friends are either very dumb, or very self absorbed to not notice him before. Possibly both.

“Oh right!” Jake snaps his fingers and points at Heeseung with a big smile on his face. “I remember now! Such fun classes.” He hums the last part as if he’s missing them while Heeseung seems to be feeling the quite opposite. He squeezes your knee with his hand that you forgot was touching you, and you look up at him with big eyes. This seems to calm him as he rubs light circles with his thumb before pulling his hand away and into his lap.

As if on que, the professor walks in and greets the class, introducing himself and starting a long synopsis of the course, and you soon find yourself forgetting all about the new yet old peer next to you.

✶.

You wouldn’t consider Heeseung as an old friend. In fact, you’re not sure he even has any real friends. Of course he has the occasional book worms that you would see him studying with in high school. However, that was years ago, and you just seeing him again now.

Which is why you’re now pushing the back of Jake’s head when you walk behind him as he’s relaxing on your couch, questioning why he never told you how much Heeseung had changed.

“Because? I didn’t think you’d care?” He looks at you in confusion as you lay on the couch next to him, throwing your legs across his lap and he places his arms behind his head. “You don’t think I’d care about how hot he is?” You scoff and Jake just shrugs while looking up at your ceiling.

You look towards Sunghoon and Jay who were raiding your fridge, then pausing like they were caught committing a crime. “Hey don’t look at us!” Sunghoon hissed before he turns and opens up your microwave, putting what you can assume is a bowl of ramen inside. “Yeah don’t look at us” Jay speaks in between taking sips of your two liter of coke, “We’re not your new eye candy” he teases and you roll your eyes, looking away and back towards Jake.

“I’m just saying guys,” you throw your arms in the air like you’re trying to make a point. “Last I seen he was a nerd with big round glasses and ears too big for his head,” you almost catch yourself smiling before you’re talking again, “and now? He has nice hair and the height of the green giant?” You hear Jake laugh and you watch as he picks his head back up and places his hands on your legs. “Trust me Y/N,” Jake shakes his head, “He’s still as much of a pathetic nerd as he always has been, he was just trying to act tough in front of you.” He lightly pokes your legs and you wiggle them away until you’re sitting up next to him.

“Well you know I do like pathetic men.” You smile to yourself, not even the slightest ashamed of your enjoyment of corrupting cute boys. “But why would he try to act tough for me?” You furrow your brows at Jake and he pressed his lips into a line like he’s disappointed in your question. “Are you serious?” Sunghoon is yelling from the kitchen this time, “He has like the biggest crush on you!” He’s crossing his arm and tapping his foot like a disappointed father, much like Jake.

You shake your head and laugh loudly, “That was in high school! I doubt he still does.” You try your best to sound sure of yourself, but the last sentence comes out quiet. “Bullshit” Jake slaps your thigh and you glare at him as he pokes your head. “You didn’t see the way he was looking at you earlier?” You shake your head and slap his arm away and he scoffs. “So oblivious” you frown at him while he’s talking about you as if he’s not talking to you. “Plus” he starts again and raises his eyebrows in a flirty way, “He’s been asking about you for the past two years, trying to figure out if he’d have a class with you n’ shit.” Jake shrugs and you scold him for not telling you before.

“What? So you like him all of a sudden?” Jay sinks into the couch next to you and extends an arm across the back, encasing you next to him. “Just because he’s cute now?” He kissed his teeth and shakes his head as if he’s disapproving. “He’s always been cute, just in a different way.” you start off but you’re quickly interrupted by shocked gasps from the three boys and a loud crash from the kitchen.

The three of you turn on the couch to see Sunghoon standing in the kitchen entrance with a bowl of ramen in one hand and the other hand clutching his chest, mouth agape in shock. “You did not just say that.” He whispers breathily like he’s just been told life changing news. “And you did not just break one of my favorite glasses.” You give him an offended look and point a finger at him, then towards your now shattered glass cup on the floor. “You’re cleaning that up and buying me a new one.” You quirk an eyebrow at him and he rolls his eyes, setting down his ramen before bending down to pick up the fallen glass. You tried your best to ignore the fake groans he lets out as if he’s too old and fragile to bend.

“Anyways” Jake claps his hands, “I’m taking a nap! You guys can either join me or stay awake and not break anything so she doesn’t kick us out.” You turn back towards Sunghoon to see him at the trashcan now, flipping Jake off without looking in your direction. Jake only makes it to standing for a second before you’re pulling him back down by his belt loops, resulting in him landing back onto the couch with a huff.

“No.” You simply state and poke his chest, “You’re gonna sit here and explain to me what prank on Heeseung you guys were talking about.” You cross your arms and Jake just whines and sinks himself into the couch more. “It’s nothing really.” Sunghoon sits on the floor in front of the three of you, now slurping his bowl of ramen. “You don’t get a say in if it’s ‘nothing’ or not.” You narrow your eyes at the boy and he breaks eye contact with you to stir his ramen.

“Seriously Y/N” Jay puts a hand on your shoulder, turning you to look at him, “We had bought one of those fake cans that have snakes that pop out, and Hoon was showing it to us. When he went to put it back, Heeseung’s backpack just happened to be the closest to Hoon at the time so he mistook it as his.” Jay tries to reassure you but you just sink yourself into the couch, the same as Jake. “Was funny as fuck though.” Sunghoon was adding on, almost choking on his ramen as he laughed.

You know they’re not lying to you, you’ve grown up with these boys basically your whole life and you know they’d never intentionally bully someone. You’re not sure why you care so much about Heeseung all of a sudden, and as if he could read your mind, Sunghoon is speaking up. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking about him like that.” He stands up and walks to the kitchen, making an audible tsk noise.

You sigh and tap your fingers against the couch, deep in thought. The last time you had really spoken to Heeseung he had fluffy, unstyled hair, and wore cute sweaters that he always looked so cozy in. His eyes were big and round, and sparkled no matter how dark it was. He also had cute pink lips with a pretty Cupid’s bow that pulled into a pretty smile. “I guess I am.” You sat up from the couch and Jake made a noise like you had woken him up suddenly. You turn to look at him and he widens his eyes, “I heard everything I promise! You were talking about how much you wanted to kiss Heeseung~.” He teases the last sentence like a middle school girl teasing you for having a crush.

You pushed his shoulder slightly and stood up from the couch, stretching your arms above your head. “Whatever, I’m also going to take a nap so don’t break anything!” You called out while walking up the stairs, hearing an offended scoff come from Sunghoon.

✶

You expected to show up to a frat party on the first Friday night of the semester and get black out drunk for the first time in a while. You didn’t expect to see Heeseung there as well. He was there though, surprisingly not standing out, but not quite fitting in either.

He was making his way towards the corner of the room, and that’s when you realized maybe he hadn’t changed too much. Since the first day you met him, he was always backed up into a random corner of any room, eyes wide and shoulders tense. However, now he looks slightly more comfortable, but not at ease.

Jay throws an arm around your shoulder, annoyingly pulling you close and you can already smell the alcohol on his breath despite just walking into the house 30 seconds ago. “What a surprise.” He says with raised eyebrows that quickly fall when he takes another sip out of the questionable cup he grabbed.

You face him and grab the cup out of his hands, setting it down on a shelf close to you. “You sicko! Where did you get this? You don’t even know what’s in it.” Jay shrugs at your words and respectably burps away from your face before replying, “Something with Rum. I know my baby when I taste it.” He giggles to himself and you scrunch your nose and try to push him off of you, giving up after realizing he’s somehow stronger when he’s intoxicated.

“Check it out.” You hear Jay lowly mumble into your ear, causing you to follow his gaze back towards Heeseung. This time, he’s talking to a girl with a bored expression on his face. You can hear the girl scoff offendedly before throwing her drink all over Heeseung’s shirt, walking away with a disgusted look on her face. “Oh…shit.” Jay’s voice drops and he seems to sober up slightly. “What the fuck?” You turn to look at Jay and he just shrugs at you, going back to grab his mixture of rum and mystery juice.

Before he can stop you, you’re breaking away from him and mumbling, “Go back with the boys, I’ll make sure he’s okay.” and then following Heeseung who is now making his way out of the kitchen and upstairs.

You find him in a bathroom attempting to soak up the alcohol with a bath towel, groaning when he realizes it’s not working. You knock softly on the open door and he looks up to make eye contact with you in the mirror, eyes wide and you catch a glimpse of the old Heeseung you use to know. “Hey” you greet him with a soft smile, like you’re trying to prove you’re not a threat, “I seen what happened and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” He nods slowly and moves slightly to let you inside of the bathroom with him.

“M’ fine. She’s just mad I rejected her” His words are mumbled as he keeps dabbing the towel on his shirt, “I’ll just change.” You furrow your eyebrows and he looks up to see your confused face, smiling at what he thinks is a cute reaction. “This is my house.” He reassures you and your eyes widen as you sit on top of the closed toilet, leaning your arm on the sink and placing your chin in your palm. The new angle has Heeseung avoiding eye contact and you smile to yourself at the realization that maybe your friends were right about his never ending crush on you.

“It’s a pretty house.” You say softly and he nods his head. “You live alone?” You think that this might be the most words you’ve ever directly spoken to Heeseung. He shakes his head, seemingly more shy and less verbal than he was the other day. “You don’t have to act tough in front of me you know.” You quirk an eyebrow and he pauses his movements, mentally cursing at himself when he realizes that you had caught on. “You don’t have to act cool.” You’re tapping your nails on the sink and before he can respond you’re speaking again. “I think you’re already cool.” You smile seeing his eyes widen before he clears his throat.

“Um, thank you? Or…I don’t know how to respond to that.” You giggle at his reaction, standing up and now staring at yourself in the mirror. You try not to move your gaze from where you’re fixing your hair, but seeing Heeseung’s doe eyes also watching you through the mirror makes your stomach flip. You see his mouth open before he closes it again, then open a second time as he starts speaking, “Do you wanna help me pick out a new shirt to wear? Not that I care what you think but- well I do care but I don’t-“ “Sure, Hee” you cut him off and he relaxes at your answer, nodding before he leads you out of the bathroom and down the hall to his own room.

As you pass the stairs, you see your three friends pause on the middle step and their jaws drop at the sight of you following Heeseung to his room. You bite your bottom lip to hold back your smile and you widen your eyes in a way to acknowledge that you know what they’re thinking.

The first step into Heeseung’s room is surprisingly refreshing, and not filled with the scent of a man in his early 20s. Instead, it smells almost warm yet fruity and sets you into a comfortable mood. You sit on the edge of his bed and watch as he opens his closet, shuffling through an array of different colored shirts. He grabs a light blue short sleeve and holds it up against himself, turning to see your reaction. You scrunch your nose and shake your head, telling him it doesn’t match the color of his cargo pants.

He models a few more shirts before landing on a black long sleeve, tilting his head to the side as he watches your reaction. You smile softly and nod your head, imaging how handsome he’d look in such a simple yet fitting shirt. He walks towards the bed before looking at you and then quickly looking away.

“Can you like, turn around or something?” He speaks softly, not wanting to hurt your feelings. You flash a pretty smile at him before poking his side. “Why? You shy?” You tease and he’s quick to shake his head and before you can tell him you’re kidding, he’s pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it on the bed next to you.

Your jaw goes slack and you analyze every part of Heeseung’s torso, too shocked to care if he catches you staring. He’s slim but well defined, with a broad chest and wide shoulders. His body is definitely more mature, but his face as he watches you check him out is the same as it always has been. His big doe eyes watch shyly and his pretty lips softly frown when you stare for too long, quickly getting insecure when he thinks maybe you’re judging him.

He’s quick to throw the new shirt on and you don’t miss how he suddenly caves in on himself, apologizing for being too comfortable. “No, Heeseung don’t apologize.” You swollow dryly, still in shock. “You’re beautiful.” You watch as his ears slightly turn pink and he fights to keep a shy smile off of his lips. You grab his hand so he looks at you and you pat the bed next to you, giggling as he stumbles onto the bed.

“You should be more confident in yourself.” You speak quietly as you play with his fingers of the hand that you’re still holding. “I mean it. You’re beautiful and you don’t need to try hard to show it.” Your words make him slightly perk up, feeling his ego inflate a bit. “Wish you could’ve told me that sooner.” This time he’s the one speaking quietly while he’s looking at your intertwined fingers. “What?” You ask but he’s quick to shake his head like he regrets what he said.

You bring your free hand up to his face, softly cupping his cheek as he looks at you with almost guilt filled eyes. Just as you’re about to ask him to elaborate, a loud pounding shakes his bedroom door that you didn’t even realize he had closed and locked, and he’s quick to stand up and open it. Sunghoon almost falls into the room as the door opens, being forcefully pushed by Jay who is holding a very drunk Jake.

“My apologies lovebirds.” Sunghoon sounds out of breath, seeming as if he maybe had to help Jay carry the body of your other limp friend upstairs. “Jake is already fucked and throwing up everywhere. We got him to the bathroom but he threw up in one of the plant pots in the living room before we could.”

Heeseung sighs and runs a hand through his hair, “I’ll have one of my roommates clean that. Thanks for letting me know though.” Sunghoon gives him a quick nod before turning to you and motioning his head towards the door this time. You try not to look disappointed as you get up from the bed and make your way to the doorway. Before you step out, you turn around and plant a quick kiss on Heeseung’s cheek, watching as he stands there stunned before you turn to help carry your friend down the stairs.

✶

You sat with your chin in your palm, staring at the side of Heeseung’s face similarly to the way you did at the party. You could tell he was trying hard to pretend like he’s focusing on what the professor was saying, but you knew his mind was running a mile a minute.

After the party, you couldn’t help but feel excited for the next time you’d see Heeseung, giggling to yourself at night over how cute he looked when he was flustered. Your friends begged you to tell them what had happened when you were alone, and begged harder to know how good he was in bed. You swore on Sunghoon’s life that nothing had happened, which resulted in Sunghoon playing dead after “having a heart attack”.

You somewhat wished that you could answer them, imagining what would’ve happened if they hadn’t interrupted your almost intimate moment with Heeseung. Your eyes grazed over his face, stopping at his lips. Your stomach tingled as you thought of how close you were to kissing him, how innocently he looked at you while you held his face. The urge to be close to him again took over, and you almost subconsciously shifted your foot to rub against his own.

You watched as he stopped breathing for a second, then swallowed harshly which dropped your attention down to his Adam’s apple. The way it bobbed every time he spoke or swallowed made your mouth water, wanting to lean over and take a bite out of his neck. You’re so lost in thought you almost didn’t hear him whisper out to you.

“S-stop staring at me.” He tries to sound stern but stutters and gives up, shaking his head in disappointment in himself. His reaction is cute to you, and you can’t help but reach out and poke his round cheek. ”Can’t help it, you’re too cute.” He blushes lightly and before you can retract your hand fully, he’s grabbing it and intertwining his fingers with yours, then dropping both of your hands into his lap.

Even if it’s not an intimate gesture, the idea of being so close to Heeseung in a public setting has you craving more. You’ve barely gotten to know him but he’s already addicting, and you wonder if he feels the same way towards you. You move your pinky that’s trapped between your hands and his thigh, and you notice how his body stiffens at the most innocent touch. You love the feeling of control you have over him, wanting-needing more.

You rub your pinky against his leg a few more times before letting go of his hand, and instead grabbing his thigh. He lets out a squeak-like noise, eyes widening as he sees Jake peek around from the other side of you, raising an eyebrow before smirking and nudging your side. You nudge him back and tell him to focus, all while rubbing your hand up and down Heeseung’s thigh, occasionally squeezing it lightly. The sight of him breathing heavily makes you squeeze your own thighs together, suddenly feeling very aroused by the shy boy next to you.

You struggle to pay attention for the rest of the class, tuning in when the professor brings up the first major assignment and then tuning back out when he starts talking about his failed marriage. Most of your brain capacity is taken over by the thought of Heeseung, getting giddy over the idea of him simply existing as if he’s not sitting next to you.

You hear Jake audibly groan when class is dismissed, muttering about how sore his neck ended up after Jay fell asleep on his shoulder. As your group walks down the stone pathway Sunghoon takes this opportunity to “massage” Jake’s neck, when in reality, a massage from Sunghoon means he tries to painfully poke his slim fingers into your pressure points.

Jake thrashes around as an attempt to get away from Sunghoon’s fingers, bumping into Jay who then bumps into you, causing you to fall backwards and into Heeseung. You collapse on top of him, pushing the both of you over and landing on his lap like a scene you from a cliché romance movie. “Woah guys!” Jay yells out, covering his eyes as if he’s so bothered by a position he’s in every other night. “Get a room horn dogs.” You just roll your eyes and stand up, reaching your hand out for Heeseung to grab.

As soon as he’s up, he’s quickly turning away and avoiding eye contact. You go to tease his shy behavior until you spot the bulge below his belt which he does a terrible job at hiding. “Oh dude.” Jay is trying not to sound amused, but the way Heeseung bites his lip looks all too much like he’s about to cry. You lean over to Jay and tell him and the boys to keep walking back to your apartment while you attempt to talk to Heeseung.

You softly grab the loose fabric of his hoodie sleeve and turn him to face you, stopping him from walking further but frown when he ends up staring straight at the ground. “Hey, Hee.” You cup his cheek softly like you did the other night and he leans his head into your palm.

You take this as a sign of comfort and slide your hand to his chin, grabbing it lightly and forcing him to look at you. “It’s fine baby, don’t worry about that.” His eyes widen at the nickname and he suddenly feels hot under your touch. “We’re just gonna go back to my apartment. Then maybe I can help you out there, is that okay?” He nods in response and that’s all the reassurance you need to grab his hand and speed walk home.

✶

The second you stepped foot into your house, you yelled for the guys to make themselves comfortable as if they didn’t practically live there with how often they were over, and dragged Heeseung to the kitchen. “You need water? Hungry?” You rummage through your fridge, wanting to take care of Heeseung first and foremost. He just shakes his head, nervous eyes darting around your house as he takes in the new unfamiliar area.

“Don’t need anything?” You ask now sipping out of a water bottle and placing it on the counter next to you. “No” Heeseung’s voice shakes, “Just need you.” He drops his head and you do the same, eyes landing right on his still painful hard-on. You look back up and he quickly looks away, and you realize you may never be able to make eye contact with him but making him flustered will always make you smile.

Taking his hand you lead Heeseung up to your bedroom, not even sparing a glance towards your friends as you hear them cheering and hollering behind your back. The way Heeseung’s hand feels hot and sweaty tells you that he definitely doesn’t have much experience, and it seems to arouse you more knowing he probably doesn’t have much to compare you to.

You open your bedroom door, pulling Heeseung inside before closing it and twisting the lock. You turn around to see Heeseung standing awkwardly, hands playing with each other as he looks at you shyly. Walking up to him, you grab both of his hands and look directly into his eyes and this time he doesn’t try to look away. “If anything makes you uncomfortable you can tell me, mkay?” You speak softly and he takes a deep breath hearing how gentle you’re being with him.

You bring him to sit on the side of your bed and sit next to him as you cup his cheek, a familiar position but in a different setting this time. “Have you ever kissed anyone?” You ask and you see the way his eyes flicker down to your lips before they find their way back to your eyes. “No…but I know you have.” His words make you feel a slight pang of guilt in your heart like you should’ve known you’d eventually end up with him.

“The boys told me about your little crush on me.” His eyes widen but he doesn’t deny it and you smile before shifting your touch on his face and using your thumb to gently play with his bottom lip. “Don’t worry” you move your hand to play with the hair on the nape of his neck and lean in close enough for your noses to touch. You can feel his lips brush yours when you speak again. “I think it’s cute.” You purr and gently close the gap between the two of you.

The first kiss lasts a few seconds before you pull away to check on him, but to your surprise he was pouncing back into you and kissing you harshly before you could say anything. You giggle against his lips and grab his shoulders forcing him off of you and he whines at the loss of contact. “Gentle, we don’t have to rush.” He immediately slumps into himself and you take this as an opportunity to push him down onto your bed.

You straddle his hips and smile down at him while he looks up at you with eyes already glossed over and hazy. You lean down, slotting his bottom lip between yours and gently sucking on it. He whines and both of his hands tightly grip your hips while yours land on his chest. He seems to pick up the idea of kissing easily, slightly speeding up excitedly when you quietly moan into the kiss.

You swipe your tongue across his lip and he parts his lips slightly, which allows your tongue to snake in while his does the same and you finally taste him. He lets out a loud moan and quickly pulls back like he didn’t mean to let it slip but you just pull him back in with a harsh grab of his hair. He moans into your mouth again but this time you feel his hands rocking your hips against his and that’s when you remember how hard he was and how badly he must be waiting for release.

“Let me take care of you, Hee.” You pull away from the kiss and he nods rapidly as if he’s been waiting for you to offer. You dip your head into his neck and gently suck and nip at the warm skin, trailing your lips down towards his collarbone as you hear another soft moan escape. You slide off of him and down onto your knees between his legs, tapping one so he gets the hint to let you between them.

He slowly opens his legs just enough for you to fit between and sits up to watch when you start unbuckling his belt. He sighs when you finally take it off and rub your hands on his thighs comfortingly before making your way towards the button on his jeans. You look up at him before unzipping them, looking for any signs of discomfort but all you’re met with is the sight of his bright pink cheeks and dilated pupils.

As soon as you get his jeans off of him you attach your lips to his bare thighs, peppering light kisses trailing from his knees to the hem of his boxers. You reach up to palm his hard-on and when your hand makes contact with him through his underwear, he lets out a whimper that shoots right to your core.

His hips buck into your hand impatiently and he goes to apologize when you’re suddenly grabbing his waistband and pulling his boxers down. He lifts his hips to help you get them down his legs, his cock springing up and catching your attention. He’s big and you don’t know why you’re so surprised considering how big the rest of him is.

He catches you staring for too long and suddenly covers himself up with his hands. “Is it okay?” He’s asking hesitantly and you instantly coo at how cute he is. “So pretty.” You hum and pull his hands away, placing them on the back of your head instead. He takes the hint and threads his fingers through your hair and tugs softly.

You place one hand on his thigh to steady yourself and softly grab his cock with the other, stroking him slightly before using your thumb to smear his precum across his tip. His hips buck into your hand again and you kiss your teeth and smile up at him. “Look at you.” You kiss the base of his cock before trailing kisses up until you reach his tip, kissing it even softer and licking the precum off of your lips. “Taste so good.” Your words seem to affect him strongly as he throws his head back and lets out a breathy whine.

“Please, Y/N, Please.” You’re not exactly sure what he’s begging for but you take it as encouragement to finally press your tongue flat against his tip, then guide yourself down to take more of him into your mouth. “Oh God .” He’s moaning louder this time and you know for sure that your friends can hear him from downstairs.

You pull off of him before immediately sinking back down, taking all of him in your mouth this time. The feeling of him sliding down your throat makes you moan around him and you feel his body jerk at the new sense of stimulation. You bob your head and feel the way his fingers tighten the grip he has on your hair, more moans and whimpers slipping from his lips.

Each sound he makes arouses you more and you don’t even realize that you’ve positioned yourself over his foot before you’re grinding down, moaning at the contact between his foot and your core. He opens his eyes and looks down at you in shock, not realizing how arousing the view from above was. The angle gives him access from the top of your head to your butt, watching how your seducing eyes flutter closed when you take him down your throat and the way your hips move fluidly while you grind down onto his foot.

You open your eyes and pull off of him, jerking him in your hand, eyes wide as you watch his brows furrow with flushed cheeks and his breathing turns uneven. “D-don’t look at me like that.” He sounds so close and you know he’s trying to hold back and impress you by not cumming too fast. “You sound so sexy.” You swirl your tongue around his tip while keeping eye contact with him. “Fuck.” He’s breathing harder and you know he’s seconds away from finishing.

“You going to cum for me baby?” The nickname pushes him right over the edge as he takes one last deep breath before letting out the sweetest whine, and you take the opportunity to take him back into your mouth, just in time to feel his cum spurting down your throat. You continue to suck until he’s lifting you off of him by your hair, and your mouth leaves his cock with an audible pop.

You lick any remaining release from your lips and make your way to stand up as he tucks himself back into his boxers and slide his jeans back up his legs. When he finishes buttoning them you’re climbing back onto his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck.

You kiss him softly, half surprised by the fact that he let you as if he didn’t care that you just had him finish in your mouth, and half aroused at the same time. “You did so good, Hee.” You praise him as you pull away and you don’t miss the way he still blushes at your compliments. “What about you?” He whispers against your lips and you give him a quick peck before pulling away to cup his face. “What about me?” You ask and he looks down at his lap and mumbles almost too quietly for you to hear. “Wanna make you feel good too.” Your heart warms at his words and you shake your head in response before kissing him again. “Taking care of you is enough for me, don’t worry about that.” Your voice is stern but caring and he nods before tucking his face in your your neck.

“I could go for a nap, you wanna join me?” You pick his face up and kiss the tip of his nose and he nods, letting you climb off of his lap and into your bed, then lays next to you as you tuck yourself into the sheets.

You turn to your side and he lays behind you, pulling you close with his arms wrapped around you, inhaling the scent of your perfume. Your breathing syncs with each other’s and you soon hear his soft snores coming from behind you, and you smile to yourself, wishing you could stay like this forever.

✶

The first thing you notice when you wake up is that it’s cold. Your bed is no longer kept warm from the heat of Heeseung’s body against yours, and your heart breaks a little at the idea of him leaving you already.

You’re not usually the type of person to keep contact after a hookup, but something about your relationship with Heeseung feels different. Even through the little time you’ve gotten to know each other, you feel like it’s been years- like the years you could’ve gotten to know Heeseung in if it weren’t for conflicting schedules.

Making your way downstairs you can hear your friends’ voices chatting away until they hear your heavy, sleepy footsteps. Rounding the corner, you find all three boys in the kitchen with Jay cooking ramen while Sunghoon and Jake sit at the table sipping on bottles of beer.

“Well good morning sleeping beauty.” Jay pats your shoulder as you grunt in response, opening the fridge and taking a long sip of cold water. “It’s like 5pm.” You rasp out as you take a seat sitting next to your friends. “It’s 8pm.” Sunghoon chuckles before taking a swig of his beer and turning to you, smoothing out your bedhead.

“What!?” Your eyes widen and you look around frantically before Sunghoon places his hand atop yours, pulling your attention back to him. “Relax, Heeseung left not too long ago- said he had something to get back to at home.” The three boys could see your frown forming and noticed the your eyes stayed glued to the table.

“Don’t worry, he left this.” Jake slaps a sticky note on the table in front of you, winking before getting up and grabbing another beer. You examine the sticky note and your jaw drops into a long ‘O’ shape. “He gave me his number!?” You squeal and almost jump from your seat, knocking your knees against Sunghoon’s.

“God, how are you so hyper after waking up.” He says it more as a statement than a question and you just give him a sarcastic smile before turning towards Jake instead. “Where did he leave it? Because I know he wouldn’t just leave it on the table for anyone to see.” You narrow your eyes at Jake in suspicion and he quickly darts his eyes away nervously.

“Jake.” You say his name sternly and you notice how he tenses and takes another sip of beer. “Jake were you snooping again?” You barely get your sentence out as he’s already defending himself. “I wasn’t I swear! When he left I went in your room to check on you and make sure you were okay and…clothed.”

Your face morphs into a confused disgust, “Pervert! Why would you care if I had clothes on or not!?” His mouth opens in shock as he shakes his head rapidly. “God, Y/N don’t make me say it!” He’s suddenly covering his face to hide his embarrassment while you’re sent into deeper confusion. “Say what!?” You’re standing up and hovering over the table, irritated at how difficult Jake is being.

“I wanted to make sure he didn’t just up and leave after fucking you! I wanted to make sure you actually had proper aftercare and he didn’t just cum and go!” Jake is slamming his hands on the table and you hear Sunghoon snicker beside you at the pun Jake may or may not have realized he used.

“What? Why would he do that?” You’re lowering your voice this time and it cracks softly while you speak. Jake sighs and taps his fingertips against the glass of his beer bottle. “Because every time you’re actually interested in a guy-more than just hookup, you’re left hurt when they leave not wanting more.” He’s making eye contact with you now and you slowly sit back down.

“Well” you start speaking but your voice comes out soft and weary. “How do you know that I want more than a hookup with him?” You immediately regret asking, knowing well that the boys can see right through you. “You wouldn’t just give a random hookup a blowjob and not expect anything in return.” Jake is giving you a “duh” face and you just gasp in shock.

“He told you!?” You’re perking up in your seat and you see Sunghoon cover his ears when you yell. “Are you never not yelling?” Sunghoon is wincing at his now ringing ears and you just mumble an apology before turning your attention back to Jake. “More like he forced the poor guy to confess.” Jay is setting the fresh ramen on the table and you roll your eyes at his response.

“Don’t tell me you threatened him.” Jake shakes his head with an offended look on his face. “Of course not! I was going to but I could see how shy he looked. He just told me you sucked him off and took a nap after.” Jake stuffs his mouth with food like a caveman after speaking, giving you time to reflect on their interaction.

“Why did you come check on me if he told you we didn’t have sex?” It’s your turn to stuff your face and Jake wipes his mouth with the back of his hand like a toddler. “You know I don’t quite trust him yet. Just had to make sure he wasn’t lying.” He gives you soft, caring eyes and you feel your heart warm at the sense of comfort. “Thank you, Jake.” You smile at him but it drops he shakes his head.

“Wasn’t just me.” He nods his head towards Sunghoon and Jay who pause suddenly. “They kept him from leaving while I checked on you.” The other two boys nod and first bump over the bowls of ramen. “I know you guys are caring and brotherly like, but he probably thought he was going to die.” You’re giggling at the thought of a wide-eyed Heeseung standing stiff against your wall with your two scariest looking friends staring him down.

Sunghoon laughs, almost choking on his ramen while Jay slides him a bottle of water to help soothe his throat. “He did! It was hilarious but I gave him a nice pat on the shoulder and he eased up a bit.” Sunghoon was speaking in between coughs and you rub his back, encouraging him to not irritate his burning throat more.

“Don’t worry about his phone number, I already called it while Jake was checking on you and his phone buzzed in his pocket so we know it’s not a fake pitty number.” Jay watches for your reaction and when speaks again. “So now I have his number in case of an emergency.” He teases and you slump in your seat with a heavy sigh.

“Geez, okay dad.” You tease him back and he grabs the sticky note, sliding it over and sticking it onto the table in front of you. “Now text him.”

✶

When you texted Heeseung and he responded right away, you weren’t quite expecting to stay up all night talking to him. You had asked him to call you around 1am and you giggled at how the read symbol stayed under your message for a solid minute until he was calling you. Even over the phone he would stutter when you ask him a slightly suggestive question or subtly flirt with him.

You had spent hours sending each other old photos from when you were younger, some even from the yearbook as you pointed out the different clubs and sports teams you were in. You laughed together when you pointed out how different you had both become, realize how long it has been since you had first met Heeseung. You had sent him pictures from your social media, bragging about the fun trips you took or the friends you had made.

You sat with a soft smile on your face when you sent him a picture of your three friends posing with bright smiles and bright silver hair. You had explained to him that during the past summer, you and your friends weren’t able to leave the city like usual so you all decided to dye your hair silver for fun.

Despite not seeing anyone over the summer, Heeseung can recall seeing your friend group return back to school with faded dirty blonde hair. You brag about how well you did for box dye, going on about how all four of you looked so sexy and that you think Jake’s looked the coolest because he kept the tips of his hair black. Heeseung gets quiet on the other line and you’d think he had fallen asleep if it weren’t for him suddenly clearing his throat and changing the topic, something about his older brother graduating a high ranking university soon.

When you both got quiet after a while and heard the soft snores coming from his side of the call, you whispered a goodnight to him and had a mental debate with yourself to decide whether or not you should hang up. You decided against the idea and fell asleep to the sound of Heeseung’s breathing.

You woke up to find that Heeseung ended the call not long after you fell asleep, but when you read his good morning text your heart warmed.

“‘Good morning beautiful, I’m sorry I hung up early last night, my phone died haha -sweating emoji- can’t wait to see you in class’.” A blinding smile was plastered on your face while you read the text out loud. You met up with your three friends to walk to class, texting the groupchat in all capital letters that you had something important to show them.

“Cringe.” Sunghoon scrunched his face in disgust, soon dropping it into a pout after you pinch him harshly. “It’s okay Hoonie I know you’re just jealous.” You tease, wrapping your hands around his arm and pulling him against you. “Stop it Y/N! You’re scaring the hoes.” Sunghoon pushed you off of him and into Jay who catches you with an arm around your waist.

“What hoes, Hoon? You lost your virginity last year and haven’t been with a girl since.” Jake is the one to tease this time, bringing up a funny memory for your friend group. “Oh my God that’s right! Were you that bad in bed that not one girl in this school wants to fuck you?” You giggle at your continuous attacks on your friend as he just gives an offended glare, opening up his mouth to speak before he’s interrupted.

“I think it’s because he has some slut clinging onto him and two other guys 24/7.” The four of you stop walking and turn to the closest bench, finding a group of girls with evil smirks resting on their too-perfect faces.

“What did you just say?” You harshly rip Jay’s arm off of your waist and make your way up to the friend group, your own following behind you. “Oh, did I hit a nerve?” The same girl fake pouts at you while her minions giggle to themselves and you clench your fists at the sneakiness lingering in her voice. “No but I’m about to hit you in the fucking face-“ You’re cut off by Jay who is covering you mouth with his hand and pulling you backwards towards your friends.

“Okayyy! I’m going to stop you right there, thank you.” Jay announces loudly, anyone who wasn’t aware of the situation before was definitely aware now with the amount of heads that turned in your direction. With a quick turn and an arm over your shoulder, you’re guided away from the group of girls who watch you leave with the same smirks that haven’t left their lips.

“Jay you’re embarrassing me.” You’re trying to shove Jay’s heavy arm off of you, which only results in you being tugged closer towards his body. “Oh, I’m the one embarrassing you?” He shoots you a disbelieving expression and then shakes his head. “You were about to rip her eyelashes off!” Jay pokes you in the temple as a sign of playfulnesses, showing you that he’s not actually that mad at you.

“Yeah I would’ve ripped out her falsies and then her real ones.” You finally wiggle out of Jay’s reach and stand on the opposite side of Jake, using his body as a barrier. Jake now looks at you and covers one of his eyes with his hand, muttering an ‘ouch’ and you just nod as if you were telling him that’s exactly why that was your chosen threat.

“Alright relax, I don’t think Heeseung would want his girl getting into fights over some rumors.” Sunghoon shoots you a somewhat reassuring glance along with his words. You just sigh and can’t help but wonder if they’re actually more than just rumors. “Speak of the devil.” Jake mumbles just loud enough for your group to hear as you open the door to your music lecture.

All four of you stop in your tracks at the sight of a bright sliver head of hair sitting at the seat next to your own. “Is that…” Sunghoon trails off in awe as Jake’s jaw goes slack “No way.” His thick accented voice dropping to an almost inaudible whisper. “Heeseung?” You walk ahead of the group, laying a hand on Heeseung’s shoulder to catch his attention.

The boy turns and his eyes light up immediately at the sight of you. “Your hair…” you trail off as you reach up to run a hand through his hair. “Do you…do you like it?” You can hear the neediness for reassurance in his voice, like he only cared about what you think. “Yeah” you breathe out as if you were scared to express your true feelings, “You look sexy.”

His ears visibly darken to a deep red color, taken aback at your forwardness. “Damn right he does!” You hear Jake hype up Heeseung as he offers a fist bump before sitting in his seat next to you.

Throughout the lecture, everything your professor said went in one ear and out the other while your main focus was Heeseung. The way his new hair complimented his complexion perfectly was almost inhumane, and you felt the overwhelming urge to kiss him. Of course, you can’t just climb onto his lap and hold him down while you eat his face in the middle of class, so you opt to do what you do best with Heeseung; make him nervous.

After befriending and become more than just friends with the boy, you’ve learned just how sensitive he is everywhere. Any time you rest a hand even on his knee or slightly brush an arm against his, he stiffens and looks down expectantly. So, with the desire to feel something, anything, you softly place your hand on his thigh and lightly tap your fingers. Through your peripheral vision can see Heeseung peering down at you through his own, and you grow impatient with his lack of common response.

As you decide to trail your hand up his thigh, he suddenly grips your wrist almost painfully tight just before you reach the crotch of his pants. You look up annoyed at your failed attempt of teasing him and lock eyes as he shakes his head, as if he’s warning you, even daring you to try again. Placing your hand back in your own lap, he focuses back on the lecture and tries not to react to the way you’re suddenly shifting in your chair.

“Is it just me or is it a bit hot in here guys?” You whisper to your surrounding friends as you fan yourself as an attempt to make your question sound genuine. Sunghoon leans over the table and gives you a stern look before kissing his teeth and scolding you, “I told you that sweater was too thick for this heat! But no! You never listen to me!”. He’s whining in an aggressive whisper but you ignore him and grab the hem of your knitted sweater and bring it over your head.

As your thin black, very cropped tank top is now visible, you can’t help but smirk at Heeseung’s wandering eyes. You notice the way his prominent Adam’s Apple bobs when he swallows harshly, and the way he quickly directs his eyes away when you catch him staring down the area of your back.

“What’s wrong, Hee? You getting hot too?” You lean toward him on your desk, crossing your arms under your chest as the pressure enhances your cleavage. “Just a bit.” He states blankly, keeping his eyes staring straight towards the front of the room. You watch as his eyes flick down towards the watch on his wrist but before you can also check the time, he’s grabbing his backpack.

Just as you’re about to ask where he’s going, the bell rings and he shoots up from his seat. He collects his laptop and notebook quickly, and you wonder if you maybe pushed him too far if he’s that eager to get away from you. He catches you off guard as he suddenly grabs your backpack, also putting your things away before grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the class before your friends could follow.

✶

After becoming closer to Heeseung both emotionally and sexually, you were 99% sure that you could predict his every move. From the way he stiffens to your small touches or trails his eyes from your own down to your lips every time you speak, nothing he does ever surprises you anymore.

However, now that he finally snapped and pulled you into a room not far from your lecture, you’re suddenly questioning the soft, shy, submissive nature that you may have mistaken him for.

Pulling you into the indoor hallway behind him, you have no time to adjust as he’s pulling you into another room and you’re suddenly pressed against the closed door. Everything happens so fast, you’re almost unable to register the feeling of his lips attacking your neck, licking and sucking everywhere so that no area is left dry.

In fear of his sudden change in demeanor, you place your palms on his chest and push him off of you, just enough to look him in the eyes. “Heeseung, what are you doing?” You’re whispering harshly, afraid that anyone passing by in the hallway may hear.

“What am I doing?” He takes a small step closer but it’s still enough to have the tips of your shoes now touching his. “What are you doing? Touching me in class like that? Undressing yourself like that?” Your lip quirks up, realizing that your earlier teasing was working. “I told you, it was getting hot in there.” You look up at him innocently, softly running a hand through his freshly dyed hair.

“And I couldn’t help myself. Couldn’t keep my hands off of you after seeing this.” You harshly tug on his hair on the last word and he lets out a whimper, but he’s quick to keep himself from falling back into the same headspace. Unsatisfied with his reaction, you pull his hair harder and this time he bends down to crash his lips against yours.

He spins you around, walking you across the room until the back of your knees hit something and he pushes you down onto what you realize is a couch. He takes his backpack off of his back and sets it on the chair in front of the sound-mixing board, while you lay comfortable on the couch. Laying sideways on the furniture puts you in the perfect position to grab onto Heeseung’s belt, pulling him on top of you to quickly reconnect your lips.

Heeseung wastes no time, putting one hand on your waist and the other by your head to hold himself up as he pins you into the sofa. Using his advantage of being on top, he keeps you pinned onto the cushions as he rolls his hips into yours, groaning at the feeling of his hard-on making contact with your core. You struggle to kiss him back as your mouth parts at the new feeling, and he takes this opportunity to easily slide his tongue into your mouth, explore everywhere with his wet muscle.

You moan loudly as he keeps rolling his hips into you, and he seems to realize that you had both forgotten you’re in a public area. Without pulling away, he grabs onto your thighs and lifts you up, walking further into the room and up to another door next to the mixing board. One of his hands leaves your thighs and you hear a few clicking noises but before you can open your eyes to check what he’s doing, he’s opening opening the door and walking you inside of the small booth.

Pulling the chair by the microphone closer to you, he sets you down onto it and goes back to close the door. “This room is soundproof.” He walks back to you and drops to his knees, gripping your thighs and forcing them open before he settles between them. “Means you can be as loud as you want.” He’s rubbing his palms on your thighs the same way you did to him, then moves his hands to the button of your jeans.

“Can I?” He only speaks two words but you nod your head almost embarrassingly fast, lifting your hips so he can pull your pants down with ease. You recently started wondering how Heeseung would react to seeing you in your underwear, but nothing could prepare you for the way he grips your hips, pulling you almost all the way out of your seat. He grabs both of your ankles, pulling your legs to rest over his shoulders and you have to contain the squeal you want to let out as he bites down onto one of your thighs.

Licking over the bite mark, his hand comes up to slap the side of your ass as punishment. “I told you already, pretty.” He switches to the other thigh, biting down again and leaving a matching bite mark before soothing the pain with his tongue for the second time today. “You can be loud.” With his repeated permission, you whine at the feeling of him pressing a soft kiss to your clit through your underwear.

“Please Hee, I need it.” You grind your hips forward into nothing but air and grip the sides of the chair tight. “Yeah? Want me to eat this pretty pussy?” His hot breath fans over your covered cunt as he speaks, and you gasp when he’s shoving his face further, inhaling your sweet scent.

You watch as he licks a long stripe up your slit, still covered by your panties before he pulls them to the side frustratingly slow. Your whines turn into moans as he licks under stripe, the time without the thin panties in the way. He wastes no time, diving into your core and licking, sucking, slurping everywhere and everything.

Your thighs shake and clench around his head and he moans into your core as you reach with one hand to grab his hair. The same hair that caused this mess, the same hair that you coincidentally showed him an inspiring picture of the night before. You couldn’t think too deeply about it as one of his hands is reaching up to your tank top, pulling the front down along with the cups of your bra.

You throw your head back as the cold air hits your nipples, but is soon replaced by Heeseung’s warm and wet mouth. You look back down to see his lips attached to one of your sensitive buds while his eyes are wide and expecting as he looks up at you. Just the image of the doe-eyed boy you always knew makes another whine escape from your throat.

Heeseung is doing great as his tongue plays with your nipple and his fingers rub circles on your clit, but you need more. “Hee” you whimper and he blinks in response. “Use your fingers, baby. Inside me—please.” You roll your hips forward while Heeseung’s hand stops the previous movements and you come to the realization that he hasn’t actually done this before.

Lifting your hand that isn’t in his hair, you grab his wrist and guide him, rubbing his fingers over your slick before letting him push one into you. Even just one finger was enough to make your back arch, his large hands reaching places your own couldn’t. He experimentally curls his finger, grinning at the way your eyebrows furrow and your mouth goes slack. He continues his movements for a few seconds, then adds a second finger and you loose all ability to think.

With your back arching off the chair and your head falling back, Heeseung takes this as a sign to thrust and curl his fingers faster, attaching his lips back to your hard nipple while your own hand releases his wrist to play with the other sensitive bud. Heeseung’s lips leave your nipple to kiss down your body, making his way back to your cunt, licking and sucking almost painfully on your clit, all while speeding up the pace of his fingers inside of you.

His new rough touches send you over the edge, gripping the back of his head tightly, keeping it pressed against you while you grind yourself on his wet tongue. The sight of him sitting between your legs is so overwhelming, causing a knot to form in your lower belly. With his fingers pumping inside of you, mouth open with his pretty pink tongue sticking out for you to use for your own pleasure, and his somehow still innocent looking eyes watching your face as you lose yourself, you feel yourself becoming lightheaded as you come undone.

As soon as you think you’re having a regular orgasm, Heeseung wraps his lips around your clit again, sucking harshly. That’s all it took for you to squeeze your eyes shut, a loud moan of Heeseung’s name escaping your throat as you feel your lower half become warm and wet while Heeseung continues sucking and plunging his fingers in and out of you.

The overwhelming feeling doesn’t stop or even weaken and you open your eyes and look down, now realizing you’re squirting for the first time in your life. Watching as your juices seem to gush out of you, you can’t take your eyes off of Heeseung’s now soaking wet face. His eyes are glossy and shining, while his nose, cheeks, and chin are glistening from your squirt as he finally pulls away once you’ve come down from your high.

“Wow…” Heeseung seems dazed as he can’t take his eyes off of your leaking hole. You grab his chin with your fingers, leading him up to your face to capture his wet lips into a sloppy kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. “I’ve never squirted before, Hee.” You pull back to wipe his sticky wet cheeks and you swear you feel them heat up from your words.

“Guess we both had firsts today.” He pecks your lips and smiles at you and your heart aches at the proud look on his face. Feeling the urge to reassure him, you pull him into a hug and hover your lips by his ear. “M’ so proud of you, baby. Did so good for me.” He whines at your compliment, pulling away from the hug to bring you back into a bruising kiss.

✶

“So you’re telling me” Jake pokes a finger into your arm before before pointing it back towards himself, “That when Heeseung took you to the studio room, you just talked?” Jake shoves a fry into his mouth and sends you a disbelieving look when you simply nod your head. “Bullshit.” Jay is speaking from across from you after taking a giant bite out of his burger.

You roll your eyes when you catch a glimpse of his chewed up food and kick his leg under the table, “You’re disgusting.” Jay returns your kick causing a sharp pain in your shin and you mumble curses at him while rubbing the sore spot. Jay then sends a few verbal hits towards you after he finishes chewing his bite, “You’re one to talk! I’m starting to think you have a exhibitionism kink with how often you and your boyfriend get it on in public.”

You grab your cup and bite your straw in annoyance, avoiding eye contact as you’re ashamed your friend might be right. “First of all, he’s not my boyfriend, and second of all, we’re not ‘getting it on’ in public, I just sucked him off that one time at home and he only returned the favor in the studio room.” You quickly realize your mistake when Jake is slamming a heavy palm on the table next to you and practically screeching in your ear.

“Ha! I knew it! There’s no way your corruptive ass is able to hold a private conversation with a shy guy like Heeseung without pouncing on him!” On the other side of the table, Jay fist bumps Jake while Sunghoon is choking on his milkshake, eyes tearing up as it comes out of his nose. You scrunch your face up in disgust while handing a few napkins over to your poor friend.

“Whatever guys, so what if I’m sexually active with him? It’s not like he’s the first guy I’ve been with.” You once again bite down on the flimsy plastic of your straw, staring down at your fingers that are tapping on the bright red coloring of the old burger joint’s table.

Jay points a finger up in a “matter of fact” manner as he tilts his head in a playful way. “You know he’s the first guy you’ve been with that actually has a massive crush on you though. Just saying, obsession is not a joke and you know how dangerous some guys could be when they’re crazy about a girl.”

Jay’s word make you rethink your whole relationship with Heeseung, realizing that most of the guys you’ve been with were just casual hookups or friends with benefits situations. The types of relationships that took mutual agreements and setting boundaries in order to keep until eventually one of you got bored with the other. With Heeseung, you hadn’t discussed those boundaries and just assumed that’s what he had wanted. Now, with Jay shooting you a knowing look, you realize you may have fucked up.

“Well…what if he doesn’t want a relationship? I could just be a booty call to him.” You shrug and try to ignore the way Sunghoon and Jake both start rambling about how naive and oblivious you seem to be. “Y/N, I love you and all, but I genuinely can’t tell if you’re being a dumb bitch or being in denial.” Sunghoon pats your hand in a comforting way while the other two boys nod their heads in agreement. “Yeah you’ve seen how he looks at you! No man looks at his booty call with heart eyes.” Jake pokes your temple and you swat his hand away.

“He could also just be looking at me with ‘fuck me’ eyes.” You retort what you think is a reasonable answer, until Jay is speaking from across from you again. “But it’s Heeseung, I don’t think he’s even held a girl’s hand before. ‘Fuck me’ eyes could be a big deal to him if he finds sex more than just casual. He’s not like you and you know that.” Sunghoon wipes his fake tears and pats Jay on the back like a proud father, “I think that’s the smartest thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth.”

Jay rolls his eyes and takes the last bite of his burger, uncomfortable with his friend who is now pinching his cheeks. Next to you, Jake places his now empty cup down and turns to you. His eyes are burning holes into your face as you avoid eye contact, not wanting to continue the discussion any longer. “I know you’re internally freaking out right now.” Jake nudges your shoulder with his own, “How about you sleep on it and maybe talk to Heeseung about it tomorrow?”

He gives you his best supportive look and you feel grateful that at least one of your friends is actually trying to be helpful. You slowly nod your head, lost in your thoughts of Heeseung and you can’t help but feel nervous about having such a serious conversation with him.

“Alright!” Jay claps his hands and scares you out of your thoughts. “Let’s hit the road!” He quickly stands up from the table and Sunghoon squeezes out of the booth following him with a snort, “Okay what are you, a dad?” Your smile at Sunghoon’s comment quickly turns into a frown of disgust as Jay corrects, “Actually, it’s dad-dy, thank you very much.”

As Sunghoon pushes the doors of the restaurant wide open mimicking a grand exit, all four of you stop in your tracks as a very tall, silver headed and doe eyed boy is also stopping. “Heeseung? What are you doing here?” You curse yourself for asking such a stupid question, but you’re caught off guard by the boy’s perky answer. “Oh! I um- I was just here to pick up my cousin. He needed a ride home.” He’s looking at the floor and kicking the small pebbles, rolling them under his shoe.

Your mouth makes an ‘o’ shape and you nod, suddenly uncomfortable with the awkward atmosphere. “What about you guys?” Heeseung also asks a stupid question and you notice the way he disappointedly shakes his head at himself. “We stayed at school a little later to work on our projects so we just decided to get dinner here before they drop me off at home.” You glance shyly at the taller boy, still in awe of how angelic he looks with his new hair.

“Oh you must be tired then! I’ll let you get home, uh, see you tomorrow?” He stutters out and you smile to yourself. “Yeah, Hee, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You walk by him and pat his arm as your friends follow behind you. “That was so painful to watch.” Sunghoon shivers, which in return gets him demoted to the back seat of the car while you steal the front.

✶

“You’re not gonna kill me are you?”

Heeseung wishes he was joking but after you sent him the infamous ‘can we talk?’ text, he couldn’t stop sweating and overthinking what you could’ve possibly wanted to talk about. “If I wanted to kill you I wouldn’t be meeting up with you under a giant tree in the middle of campus.” You giggle as you sit down on the old bench, patting the spot next to you.

As Heeseung sits down, you can’t help the small blush that heats up your cheeks at how close he decided to sit. Close enough that he’s suddenly wrapping an arm around your shoulder and tugging you to sit with your thigh pressing against his. You turn to him with wide eyes and he immediately caves into himself, snaking his arm back towards his own body.

“Sorry- I just thought maybe you’d like that but I guess I should’ve known not to…considering I can guess the reason we’re here.” He mumbles while watching his hands fidget with each other in his lap, and you feel a pang in your heart at his sudden drop in confidence. “No, Hee.” You grab his anxious hands, holding both of them in between yours, “I did want to talk to you about that, but not for the reason you think.”

He visibly perks up, eyes bright and hopeful but his teeth are still nibbling nervously on his bottom lip. “I know we kind of started off fast- with this whole thing between us…” He nods attentively as you speak, “and I know I never really asked you what we are.” Heeseung’s heart beats faster with every word you speak.

“That’s just something I’m used to- having no solid labels on relationships but I understand if that’s not what you want.” Heeseung gulps harshly as he lets you ramble, already knowing his answer to your upcoming question. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, I genuinely really like you, and if you wanna-“ Your confession is cut short by the annoying ringing of a phone, and you break eye contact with Heeseung to check who is interrupting your rant.

Of course, it’s Sunghoon screeching on the other line. “Y/N! The boys and I need help with our projects so we’re coming to you! Where are you? Under the tree? We’ll check there for you.” Before you can speak a word, Sunghoon is cutting off your argument, “But-“ “No buts! We’re on our way.”

You give Heeseung an apologetic smile that quickly falls when your friends are already walking up to you. “Do you seriously need my help? You guys have taken more music classes than me!” You stand up and dust off any dirt left on your clothes. “Well…we just missed you and wanted to work on our projects together.” Jay is wrapping an arm around Sunghoon’s shoulder and the younger groans. “I don’t know why this guy lied, we know you would’ve agreed either way.”

You roll your eyes and sling your backpack onto your shoulder, obviously annoyed at your friends who interrupted your moment with Heeseung, once again. “You’re lucky I love you guys, and I haven’t even started my project yet.” You walk away as your four friends follow behind, tripping over each others feet.

The five of you make it into the music building, making your way through the indoor hallway and decide to work in one of the recording studios. You shyly glance at Heeseung to see him already looking at you. “What?” He leans over towards you once you sit on the studio couch and pull out your laptops. “Flashbacks?” His hand finds your thigh and you’re quick to pull it off, just in time for your other three friends to turn around and start a conversation.

“So what is the project about anyways?” Jake had obviously not been listening during the past few lectures. Jay sets his laptop down next to Jake’s, opening up his notebook which was filled with different information on music theory and genres. “Just experiment with the tools and see what comes easiest to you. Personally, I find alternative rock a fitting style for myself.”

You look over at Heeseung and find him already staring at you, something unrecognizable lingering in his eyes. “Hee?” You nudge him and brush a strand of hair off of his face. “You okay?” Your voice seems to snap him out, and he blinks rapidly before apologizing. “Was just zoning out I guess.” He starts taping away on his own laptop and you giggle at the Toy Story picture he has saved as his background.

“What about you Heeseung? Did you start yet?” Jay asks while reclining in his chair, arms stretching above his head as his shirt lifts up to show a sliver of honey skin. “Uhh, yeah I did start actually. I only have a few bars done though.” Heeseung doesn’t move his gaze from his computer screen as he chews on his bottom lip, a nervous habit you’ve picked up on.

“Play it.” Jay motions towards Heeseung, giving him an expecting look. “Alright…” Heeseung still hasn’t taken his eyes off of his screen, adjusting the volume before pressing play. A deep bass is heard with a few vocal effects added in, and you’re all nodding your heads to the rhythm when your heart drops at a sudden beat change.

Within the first ten seconds of the song, a moan of Heeseung’s name is heard loud and clear, followed by a beat signaling to lead the song into a more R&B feel. You pause, a chill crawling up your spine as you look over at Heeseung who has a proud smirk relaxed onto his face.

The song ends and he presses the space bar to pause it, quickly glancing over to the four of you to find your reactions. “So?” He relaxes back on the couch that suddenly feels too small for the two of you. “What do you guys think?” He’s overly cocky, something you have yet to get used to. “It’s really good…” Jake is speaking hesitantly while looking next to him at Sunghoon, who just nods his head in agreement. “But…what was that at the beginning?” His question makes your heart pound, knowing exactly what he’s referring to.

“What? My producer tag?” Heeseung has a causal smile on his lips. “It’s sexy isn’t it? Of course I had some help.” He places an arm around your shoulder and winks at you, but you’re quick to shove him off of you and run out of the room.

You don’t get far when you hear the studio door opening, and then the loud shut of the door echoing through the music building hallway. “What’s wrong, pretty?” Heeseung lands a hand on your shoulder, spinning you around shoving you against the wall. He places his forearm above your head, leaning in uncomfortably close. You have tears pouring down your cheeks but your face is stone cold.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” He leans in and his nose brushes against yours. One of his hands is suddenly grabbing your chin, turning your face so his nose is nudging your cheek bone instead. You squeeze your eyes shut and feel his lips gently kiss your jaw. Heeseung then sticks his tongue out, licking a long stripe from your jaw to your eye, collecting the freshly fallen tear that had collected on your cheek.

The sensation of his warm, wet muscle dragging along your face makes your stomach turn in both disgust and something you’d be too ashamed to admit. “You wanted to be mine, no?” He brings your face back to look at him and presses a soft kiss to your quivering bottom lip. “Wanted everyone to know you’re mine?” His words make heat pool in your lower stomach and you subconsciously close your legs tight, rubbing your thighs together softly.

“Look at you.” He coos, running a hand through your hair. “You like this, hm? So dirty.” His words make you nod instinctively and he smiles at how easily you fold for him. “Why don’t we get back in there, don’t want to worry your boys.” You nod instinctively again, bringing a hand up to wipe your face and walk away as Heeseung follows behind.

You enter the room hesitantly, cheeks burning from embarrassment as your friends’ eyes are filled with worry. You avoid eye contact when sitting back down, immediately burning holes into the screen of your laptop so you didn’t have to face the awkward atmosphere. Heeseung sits next to you and places a hand on your thigh, fingers gently tapping to a random rhythm.

You let out a shaky breath and try to change the subject, hoping to get everyone’s eyes off of you. “Who wants to play theirs next?”

✶

Resentment

Anger

Shame

You couldn’t shake the embarrassment you felt for the rest of the day. Hanging out with your friends never felt so humiliating, even after you had gotten home and relaxed in bed, you couldn’t help the tears from falling. Yet, you weren’t finding yourself angry at Heeseung. Just angry at how embarrassed you had felt afterwards.

Of course, with such a close friend group there wasn’t such thing of hiding secretes or being “too extreme”. Your friends were your everything and had been there with you throughout all of your relationships, hearing every single detail from your side.

However, having your sexuality exposed by someone else felt humiliating and destructive. You knew Heeseung hadn’t necessarily meant to humiliate you in front of your friends, despite not knowing the actual reason for him using such a private moment in such a light manner.

No matter how embarrassed you felt, you couldn’t bring yourself to be upset at him. Even after you cried yourself to sleep that night, and even after you had spent the whole next day sulking in bed. Eventually your friends were sick of pitying you and decided to plan a movie night at your apartment; showing up with snacks and stacks of movies, grabbing you by the ankles and dragging you out of bed.

As you sat on the couch while your friends argued over which movie to watch first, you couldn’t help but zone out with your head flooding with thoughts of Heeseung. As if your brains Bluetooth connected, Jake leaned over to comfort you, something you’d never get tired of.

“I know you’re thinking about him.” He sends you a firm glance, communicating that you have no reason in lying. “Do you miss him?” You nod insecurely at his question, ashamed to admit it. “Why don’t you invite him? I know we’re doing this to get your mind off of him but maybe it’ll help if you just talk to him.” Jake rubs your back gently and you take a deep breath, releasing it as you whisper in agreement.

Now, you’re sat with Heeseung on your bed while your friends watch horror movies and eat the snacks they brought for you. “I don’t want them to interrupt us again so I’m just gonna get straight to the point.” You glance at Heeseung before looking away towards a poster on your wall. “I like you a lot, Hee. And I know you feel the same, and I know you want us to be exclusive. So, I think we have to set some boundaries and know exactly what we want in a relationship if you really want to be with me.” Heeseung nods along to everything you say, and you start listing off the expectations you have for him as he does the same.

You haven’t realized how much time had passed while talking to Heeseung until you notice the silence coming from downstairs, and you peek your head out of your door to hear three different sets of snores coming from your friends. You sit back on your bed and take note of how comfortable Heeseung looks next to you.

Of course, this isn’t the first time you had Heeseung in your room sitting on your bed. However, it was the first time you had gone this long with him on your bed without lunging at him. That didn’t last long though as you’re suddenly climbing onto his lap, pressing your lips harshly against his.

“Missed you so much.” You’re mumbling against his lips and he’s pulling back to laugh at you. “It’s only been like two days, you’re that obsessed with me?” His teasing makes you blush and duck your head into his neck. “You’ve literally liked me since high school and I’m the one obsessed with you?” You’re arguing back and now Heeseung is the one blushing.

Instead of responding, he connects your lips and flips over, laying you softly against the bed. Your tongue invades his mouth and he welcomes it eagerly, whining into the kiss as he sucks on your bottom lip. “For not having much experience you’re so good at kissing, Hee.” You compliment him and notice the way his eyes glimmer with confidence.

“Better than Jake?” His question catches you off guard and you’re confused until you realize what he’s referencing. “What- how do you know about that?” You’re sitting up now, slowly scooting away from Heeseung. “Well, it wasn’t exactly like you guys were hiding in a private area.” His hand finds your cheek and caresses it, thumb playing with your bottom lip.

You sit still in shock, not realizing that Heeseung had known one of your most private secrets for so long. “I mean, behind the school? You know so many kids go back there to do God knows what, I just happened to be back there and seen you guys.” As he speaks, your fingers are playing with your bed sheet nervously, twisting the fabric until your fingertips turn white.

“Do you know how upset I was?” He was puling you back under him by your waist, kissing you harshly with no time to react. “To see him get what I wanted? To see him touch what’s mine.” You’re looking up at him in pure shock, not realizing how badly he had wanted you for so long.

“That was just a one time thing- you know that!” You’re quick to defend yourself but Heeseung just caresses your cheek and smiles. “I know baby, I know you only want me now.” You nod against his lips as he kisses you again, before he pulls away for the nth time. “Wont let anyone else have you. You’re mine now.” One hand finds your throat and gently squeezes as the other still cups your cheek, feeling the way your jaw moves while your tongue laps against his.

Releasing your lips from his own, he kisses your from your chin down to your jaw and neck, gently sucking the warm skin before making his way to your collarbone. His hands travel up your sides, squeezing the flesh of your waist comfortingly and you ease into his touch.

“Heeseung…” you whine as he nips at the skin covering your collarbone, leaving small barely-visible teeth marks. “Heeseung, I need you.” He smiles against your neck, inhaling your addicting natural scent. Your hands grab his hips, pulling him closer as you shift your own upwards, chasing the friction of your bodies together.

He takes this opportunity to grind his hips down, immediately groaning at the feeling of your core against him. Your hands slide up his back and into his hair, pulling him down to kiss you again. As your lips connect, you’re caught in a mess of tongue sucking and teeth clashing while you amateurishly grind your lower halves together.

You pull away and feel yourself grow more aroused at the sight of Heeseung’s chin shining from the mix of your saliva, assuming yours also looks the same. “Need you now.” He nods and lifts your shirt up your chest and over your head, eyes widening at your lack of bra. “Not the first time you’ve seen them, Hee.” You remind him but you still feel slightly prideful that your body hasn’t become any less admirable to him.

He sucks and bites at the skin of your chest, one hand softly rolling your nipple in his fingers while his warm mouth finds the other. Your back arches off of the bed, pushing your body impossibly closer to Heeseung’s and he groans when you pull his hair harshly. “You like that?” You pull his hair again and he huffs a shaky breath onto your skin. “You like when it hurts?” He grinds his hips down in response, laying his cheek flat on your chest.

“No matter how cute you think it is, I jdon’t want to cum in my pants like a virgin.” Despite his words, he’s still grinding into you almost painfully rough. “But you are a virgin.” You cup his face and bring his face to look you in the eyes. “Not for much longer…I hope.” His eyes are sparkling and hopeful and you can’t help but place a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. “It’ll be much longer if you don’t undress me right now.”

His hands move quickly as he rushes to tug your pajama pants down, only stopping for a moment to admire your cute panties before he’s pulling them down too. He notices the way you’re shyly grabbing a small blanket to cover yourself and sends you a worried look, only for you to point back at him. “You’re still fully clothed.” You giggle and push him away. “You haven’t even taken your socks off!” You tease him and he shakes his head before swiftly pulling his shirt over his head.

You watch in awe as he undresses, admiring his naked body for the first time. As you pull the blanket away from your own body, you assume he’s doing the same when you catch him almost drooling over you. With a beckoning of your hand, he’s quickly hovering over you again, this time with two fingers between your legs.

“Have to prep you, baby. Don’t want to hurt you too bad.” You can’t even respond as he slides a thick finger into you, curling it upwards while his thumb rubs circles in your clit. “More.” You’re quiet but Heeseung has always been good at listening to you, and he pulls his finger out slowly just to push it back in with a second one. You can’t help your hips from grinding against his palm as he has two fingers knuckle deep inside of you.

You grab his wrist and he looks at you in worry, just to be met with low, lust-filled eyes. “Cant wait any longer.” Your voice is seductive and Heeseung feels his heart hammering against his chest. “Fuck, okay.” He adjusts himself, ready to push into you until he’s stopping abruptly. “Condom. I don’t have a condom.” He sounds panicked, secretly worried that finally getting to have you will have to be postponed.

To his luck, you just shake your head and reach for his neck, pulling his lips down to yours. “Don’t need one. I’m taking one of your firsts today so I want you to take one of mine.” Heeseung’s feels his heart grow as he’s honored to be the first guy you take raw, and he will make sure that he’s also the last.

Lining up to your entrance again, he slides his tip against your folds a few times, coating his length in your slick that is now pooling onto your bed. He slowly pushes in, head falling forward to rest in your neck as the overwhelming squeeze of your walls sucks him in. “F-fuck.” He curse breathily and you can’t help but moan at how arousing just hearing his voice is.

He’s bottoms out fully and your back arches up, feeling him deep enough to know your cervix could end up bruised. He wraps an arm around your waist to keep your back lifted off of the bed as he slowly pulls out and then slides back in. Your eyes roll back, unable to form a single thought when he starts finding a solid pace, fucking into you gently.

“Harder.” You moan through the word and watch the way he lifts off of you, grabbing your hips and pinning you to the bed. As if something in him switched, he’s keeping you pinned as his hips snap almost painfully fast, hitting the most sensitive spots inside of you with each thrust.

“Oh-fuck, Heeseung!” You’re sure the three boys downstairs have been woken from their deep slumber by now with how loud you’re moaning and the sounds of skin slapping. “Fuck I’m so close already, I’m sorry.” Heeseung sounds pathetic as he whines into your neck.

One hand is digging your fingernails into his broad back as the other guides his face towards yours. You kiss him once before sticking your tongue out and looking him deep in the eyes. He’s unsure of what you’re doing before a lightbulb goes off in his brain. Wrapping a hand around your neck, he squeezes harshly as he lets his spit glide from his lips into your mouth, then connects your lips to his before you could swallow.

The disgusting amount of saliva in your mouth allows your tongues to glide together easily and Heeseung moans loudly at the feeling. “God-I think I’m gonna cum.” Just as the shaky words leave his mouth, you feel a tight knot form inside of you and hearing him sound so fucked out only made you crash over the edge. His thrusts are messy and his eyes are squeezing shut, hoping to last a little longer for you.

“Come on baby, cum with me, need it so bad please-.” You’re barely able to get the words out before you’re wrapping your arms around Heeseung’s neck and rocking your hips, cumming around him with a scream-like whine as your juices are squirting out of you. “Oh fuck-fuck!” Heeseung is groaning between clenched teeth, jaw tight as he struggles to hold back whimpers and moans but doesn’t last long when you’re trapping his bottom lip between your teeth.

He lets out the most pathetic, high pitched moan from his throat as he feels you suck on his lip while your cunt does the same to his cock still burried inside of you. He feels like he can’t stop cumming, spurts after spurts of warm liquid filling you up to the point where he’s forced to pull out of you.

As he does that, he watches the way your mixed liquids seep out of you, staining your bedsheets and thighs. You notice the way his whole abdomen up to his chest is glistening, feeling proud that he was able to make you squirt again but this time without his mouth.

He plops down next you and pulls you to lay your head on his chest. “I’ll clean you up right now, pretty. Just lay here for a bit.” You have never felt this happy after such an intimate moment, grateful that life had lead you to such a sweet and caring boy. You lay there for a few minutes until Heeseung throws his sweats on and finds a towel to clean you with, wetting it with warm water before wiping you up gently.

“Why are you the one doing this? I just took your virginity, you should be the one getting princess treatment.” You’re only half joking but Heeseung doesn’t care, kissing your forehead and removing the dirty sheets off of your bed and instead throwing together some random extra blankets he found. He cuddles up next to you, pulling your body so close to his that you think you can hear his heartbeats. “Doesn’t matter the situation, I’ll always take care of my girl.”

✶

Heeseung is a great boyfriend, even if sometimes he can be overly confident and grope you in public or wouldn’t stop bragging to your friends about how perfect you are, resulting in your cheeks burning red and hot to the touch. You’ve noticed the way he get protective over you even with your own friends; sitting between you and Jake or even eating all of the ramen before Sunghoon comes over just out of spite.

Even after two weeks of being official, having Heeseung still doesn’t feel real. Maybe it’s the fact that you’ve never been treated this well in a relationship, or maybe it’s the fact that you’ve never had someone be this in love with you. So in love that he threatens to bite the hand of many who even looks your way.

So, when Heeseung finds himself back at another party, mixing up a concoction of random liquids, he barely notices the way his red solo cup is reaching it’s limit. Too focused on the way a way-too-friendly guy has been hitting on you all night, he doesn’t even care about the amount of alcoholic beverages he’s filling his cup with.

Sometimes he feels embarrassed by how badly he wants you, and now that he has you, he doesn’t know how to handle his jealousy. That’s why when the guy brushes a strand of hair out of your face, Heeseung takes the wrong road and decides he’s done being the pathetic and needy boyfriend you’re used to.

While you’re sitting on the disgusting frat couch with suspicious stains on the cushions, you can’t help but worry that Heeseung is taking too long to get another drink. Your other three friends are somewhere else, off getting shit faced drunk while you’re left alone to protect yourself from this man who has been following you around all night.

You noticed the way he would back off when you’re with Heeseung, but as soon as your boyfriend is a few feet away, you’re being flirted with and touched in uncomfortable ways. Now that Heeseung has been gone for a few long minutes, your struggling to fight off the man’s wandering hands that trail from your shoulder to your lower back, wincing when his hand doesn’t move even after you tug on his wrist.

He just laughs, pointing to the corner of a room and whispers uncomfortably close to your ear. “That’s your man?” You follow his finger, heart dropping when you watch the way Heeseung is towering over a small, almost too-perfect girl. The same girl who had the nerve to call you a slut in the middle of campus.

You don’t miss the way she looks over her shoulder, smirking when she catches you staring. She turns back to Heeseung with a pretty smile, reaching up to trail her fingertips across his arm and you feel your heart crumble.

You reach your breaking point, shoving the clingy man off of you so hard he stumbles against the stairs, landing hard on his ass. You don’t even glance back at him as you make your way around the house, eventually finding all three of your friends swimming in the backyard pool with their jeans and white shirts now soaking.

You hurry to them, explaining that you don’t feel well and that you need to go home. “Are you okay? Where’s Heeseung?” Your boyfriend’s name coming out of Sunghoon’s mouth was enough for you to break down, covering your face with your hand as tears spill from your eyes. “What the fuck happened, Y/N? What did he do?” Jay’s voice is stern and demanding but you know he’s not frustrated with you. “I’ll go find him-“ Jake is cut off when you grab his wrist, pulling him back towards your circle.

“I don’t want to see him right now, just take me home.” As if the universe is testing you, said boyfriend is walking up to your friend group with an unreadable expression before you can plan your escape. “Hey, pretty. What’s wrong?” His question infuriates you more and you find yourself rushing forward and harshly pushing his chest.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you!?” Your voice is horse as you cry, a few strangers now looking in your direction. Heeseung take’s note of this, suddenly grabbing you by the arm and rushing inside of the house. The lights and music blur your senses, and you’re unable to tell what’s going on until your back is being pressed up against a bathroom sink.

Heeseung’s lips quickly find their way to yours, biting and sucking harshly as you continue to cry. “Stop, Heeseung. I’m not in the mood.” You shove his shoulder and he pulls away with an irritated look. “Why not? Did that guy not agree to fuck you?” His words are sharp and mean.

You gasp offendedly, a hurt expression making its way onto your face. “What the fuck are you talking about? I don’t want to fuck him!” You’re yelling again and Heeseung presses his index finger to your lips. “That’s not what it looked like when you were letting him feel you up.” Heeseung is calm and it irritates you more at how confident he’s being despite being wrong.

You feel your eyes start tearing up again, looking away from your boyfriend’s angelic face. “I wasn’t letting him.” Your voice is quiet and weak. “I couldn’t stop him and you-you weren’t there to help me. You knew he was preying on me but you still left me alone.” You can’t stop the warm tears from sliding down your cheeks.

Heeseung takes a step back, eyes now softer and habitually nibbling on his bottom lip. “Fuck, baby, I’m sorry.” He cups your face with both hands, eyes locking with yours before he brings you into a tight hug. “I was just so mad that he was trying to get at you, I wanted to make you feel the same way. Didn’t even realize how uncomfortable you were, I’m sorry.” You swear you hear him sniffle as he apologizes, squeezing your body tighter.

“It’s…it’s fine, Hee. You’re new to this relationship stuff so I’ll just have to teach you, I guess.” You sigh and run your fingers through his hair, calming the both of you down. He takes a few shaky breaths before pulling back from the hug and kissing you again, soft and sweet like he’s thanking you for being so patient.

Maybe you’ll just have to get used to him having these ups and downs. Sure, he isn’t the most confident and might be immature and reckless sometimes, but that’s all a part of learning. You want to allow him to experience these harsh moments and teach him how to overcome them. Even if it hurts you in the process, you’ll do anything to be with Heeseung and he’d do anything to be with you, because after so long, you’re finally his.

[tailsz]

Demon slayer men boyfriend headcannons‼️

(NSFW INCLUDED)

——————————

Includes : Tanjiro , Zenitsu , Inosuke , Tomioka , Sanemi , Tengen , Obanai , Muzan , Akaza , Douma , and Kokushibo

(this is my first post so bear with me AND english isn’t my first language so sorry for mistakes!)

—————————————————————————————————————

Tanjiro!

okay so we ALL know this guy has the sweetest heart so expect a lot of lovely dovey gestures such as….

Cute little morning letters if he leaves before you or you just don’t work as a demon slayer!

something along the lines of “i made you breakfast eat it before it gets too cold!! I hope you have a lovely day and i love you so so much”

(if ur parents are still alive 😍) he will absolutely win them over EVEN IF THEYRE THE MOSG HARDCORE PEOPLE EVERRR

he has a way with people what can you say

multiple lunch dates a week are a must! you guys go out and try as as many restaurants when you guys go on missions together if ur a demon slayer!

if not he will personally bring you takeout from his missions!

you and nezeko bonded a lot and she LOVES when you play with her hair it makes her sleepy ASAP (tanjiro walked in during the middle of this and his heart almosy exploded)

for y’all’s free time you both decided to try new hobbies together like Yoga, art , dancing ETC ITS VERY CUTE MOMENTS!

NSFW!

he’s a soft dom! but if you bring up the thought of you topping him he will NOT object

OH HE IS SUCH A ROMANTIC IN BED

Sex with him is literally the embodiment of “love making” because he showers you with love and pleasure

MISSIONARY 100% OF THE TIME

he is vanilla but that doesn’t matter because he’s drowning you with praises and caressing your perfect body <3

his aftercare is literally going to heaven and back

he’ll massage you and whisper sweet nothings into your ears

THIGHS GUY

———————————————

Zenitzu!!

at the beginning he’s really REALLY awkward

might even like be hella weird towards you (because you’re the first woman/man he’s ever been perused as romantically)

SO GIVE HIM TIME HE’LL GET THERE

Once he does he will quite LITERALLY will kill everyone in a room and then himself for you

you are his princess (your also his knight and shining armor because… well… it’s zenitzu…)

1000% shows you off like a medal of honor to ANYONE AND I MEAN ANYONE

this one time he was blabbing about you to a stranger to the point where said stranger just respectfully told him he doesn’t care

you had to STRAP HIM DOWN to prevent bodily injuries

he likes taking afternoon walks with you , he really enjoys the beautiful site with his beautiful partner

he randomly picks up flowers from the ground and gives them to you because they reminded you of him!

NSFW!!

he is a switch with a bottom preference

the thought of you just absolutely demolishing him will get his body all fuzzy and tingling 🤭

reverse cowgirl is his FAVORITE POSITION OF ALL TIME HANDS DOWN

the nights when it’s not just pleasure he likes to top you and take things slow to show you just how much you mean to him

as well as absolutely showering you with corny praises (he’s so silly!)

HIS AFTER CARE IS ODD

if he’s SPENT he will most likely pass out leaving you in charge of aftercare

if not he’ll just cuddle u to sleep

(totally not because that means he’ll see u naked again in the morning)

TITS GUY

—————————————————————

inosuke!

he didn’t comprehend the fact that you 2 we’re dating 🧍🏽‍♀️

you had to explain to him and half way through the was flustered and asked you to SQARE UP?? (HE HAD A NO IDEA HOW TO RESPOND TO THAT)

like zenitsu he was also very much awkward if not more at the start of the start of the relationship

But not awkward in a hes shy way

NO HES AWKWARD BECAUSE HE DOESNT WANT TO SHOW??? FEELINGS??

because that’s gross

Tanjiro and Zenitsu had to help the guy to at least an OUNCE of a romantic

he’s really not much of one though

his idea of dates or romance of training or fighting w/ you!

you don’t really mind but if it does get to a point where it bothers you by the lack of romance

HE WILL TRY (key word TRY) to be more affectionate towards you!

he sees a pretty rock? it’s yours!

he sees a pretty branch it’s yours!

he sees a cute cayote? It’s you-

the time he actually brought you one you almost SHAT yourself 😓

NSFW!!

oh he’s a dom

he views smexy time as a challenge

so you bringing up the idea of topping is you trying to WIN and he would rather DIE than lose

again the concept was a foreign area to him

and if you both get to the sexual parts for a relationship , he will seek guidance from you!

(while also refusing for you to demonstrate for him because he “knows what he’s doing” 😒

what’s aftercare?

he does not do it at first meaning you are doing it

after a while he’ll start picking up after you and do it himself

(if you tease him about it he will throw you off the bed)

ASS GUY

—————————————————————

Tomioka!

When he asked you out he said

“will you take my hand in a relationship”

it’s as serious as it sounds

he is comfortable as soon as you begin the relationship because of 2 reasons

for him to consider a relationship with you , you’d guys would’ve have to know eachother for a while

and because if you didn’t want him you would’ve said no

AND SINCE YOU DIDNT😍

hes 100% sure you guys will be just fine WHICH YOU ARE :D

little small gestures of affection from you will get his heart flipping like—

holding his hands ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU BEGING CONTACT WITH PINKY TOUCH 😓

(he’s touch starved FEED HIM)

the one time you begged him to let you style his hair was the day that he won’t let you do anything else BUT that

he loves how your fingers feel against his head

sending tingles down his spine of safety yk?

he carries anything you give him in his haori (like little charms!)

he likes it when you whisper sweet nothings into his ears it gets him all giggly

NSFW!!

he is a switch with no preference

he will be whatever you want him to be 😍

when he top’s he can get carried away with eagerness

when you guys have sex he very much loses his mind which is why he can be rough when he tops

HOWEVER WHEN HE BOTTOMS JESUS CHRIST

He will be a whimpering mess

being your little slut asking for more n more <3

being a hashira he can and WILL last very long

he’s 1000% into hair pulling both giving n reviving

as u guys last longer n longer into the relationship he will be more open to risks 😍

(like public sex)

this one time did the deed in a public bathroom in a restaurant while the rest of the hashiras were waiting on the food 🤭

He will run a bath for the 2 of you afterwards and fall asleep in each others arms<3

he’s an ass guy

—————————————————————

Sanemi!

like giyuu , for him to consider a relationship with you , you have a LONGG history

it took him a while for him to actually ask you out 🧍🏽‍♀️

it got to the point where he was going to lose you to someone else because of how long it took

shinobu “helped” to ask you out

and by help i mean he forced him to ask you out in front of her

shinobu top tier wingwoman fr fr ‼️(she had enough of him wasting an opportunity so she took matters into her own hands)

he will absolutely NOT do PDA (at least at the beginning of the relationship)

his ego n pride are too much for that

once he gets over himself he will at MOST hold hands with you ig 😒😒

he forces u to train with him

he is an AMAZING cook and makes you breakfast n lunch (house husband material!!)

he’s also surprisingly good at doing hair whether it’s short or long! (he makes u buns a lot )

he’s such a romantic behind closed doors

shinobu caught him in the middle of that act and while she didn’t tell anyone…

she teased him to DEATH

NSFW!!

oh he’s a MEAN top no questions asked

he will degrade you to the BONE (which you don’t mind 🤭)

he’s also very VERY rough hitting and attacking ALLL of your sweet spots on your body (inside as well 😋)

he loves calling you a needy slut 🤭

ONE TIME. he has a wet dream where you topped him and... HE WOKE UP WITH THE HARDEST BONER OF HIS LIFE

he will never ever EVERR bring up the idea of u topping him ( if you bring up he MIGHT let it happen🤨 he’s so stubborn)

HE IS SO MEAN WHEN IT COMES TO ORGASM.

if he’s fucking you because he’s jealous or you pissed him off???

he’s going to deny your orgasms for an hour ☠️

SEX DRIVE?? MEDIUM

STAMINA IS . HIGHHHH

he’s pretty average with aftercare , he’ll bring u water n a towel

on a good day you both will shower together! (50/50 chance that y’all will fuck again!)

he’s a thigh guy

—————————————————————

tengen!!

what’s another wife to the list?

all four of them (tengen n his wives) found you very attractive at first sight and they had NO shame into admitting that

after knowing you for a while THEY ALL asked you join the relationship! it caught u off guard 😨

when you entered the relationship they literally all wanted u for themselves 😓

tengen is SUCH A ROMANTIC AND WILL ABUSE PDA SO MUCH

if you’re a fellow hashira my god he will tease you in public so much??? and you’re like FOR WHAT???

hashira meetings will get HELLA awkward with both of y’all (everyone is just like “this again??☠️”

like zenitzu he will FLEX U SOO BAD especially to single folks because in his eyes being single is such a skill issue 🤨

his form of affection is expensive gifts so

EXPECT TO BE PAMPERED WITH A LOT OF JEWELRY 🤭 ( we love sugar daddies )

he also refuses to NOT take y’all on fancy restaurants because anything other than that is LAME AND TACKY 🤨

MATCHING OUTFITS ARE A MUST!!

after he retired, you guys have religious weekly movie nights a lot (you all take turns in picking movies)

NSFW!!

OKAY SO TENGEN IS A SWITCH WITH A PREFERENCE ON TOPPING

now he has 2 different ways of going about it

if it’s sex on One on One , HE IS SO MEAN??

he will 100% mock you during the whole thing

mocking when you choke on air or a moan is his specialty 😓😓

seeing you cock drunk will drive him CRAZY

thighs are so HOT TO HIM (thigh highs are a must!)

he leaves so many bite marks and bruises on your inner thighs

HIS HANDS ARE HUGE DAWG

he likes fingering before fucking and GOD HES SO GOOD AT FINGERING?

he can n WILL make u come more than twice with just his fingers😓

it’s a the whole group sex with him n his wife’s

he’s a sweetheart! taking care of his little princess nasty needs!

when he bottoms with all 4 of you on him he gets so cocky 😒

he loves how you all take care of HIS nasty needs in such a good way

HAIR PULLING

and he’s very much into orgasm denial HES A JERK

def a tits guy

bdsm king

—————————————————————

OBANAI ( i love him sm ) <333

okay uh

before y’all started dating he was so shy around you because??? you’re so??? perfect?????

if you so much as breathe into his direction he will literally die

he asked u in the most romantic cliche ever (but it doesn’t matter because he pulled it off so well??)

he made you follow little notes at night eventually leading to a tree that had a saying “will you be my mine and go out on a date with me?” with 2 boxes saying yes and no

at first you were confused until you saw a familiar snake 🤭 making you giggle you chose the yes box!

HE WAS INTERNALLY SCREAMING BC HE THOUGHT HE WAS BEING HELLA CRINGE 😓

moving onto the relationship…

he is literally the perfect boyfriend

when he gets needy n wants to talk to u , he sends kaburamaru to fetch you!

kaburamaru literally loves u too ! ( obanai also send u flowers through him!)

he gets jealous easy like VERY

he’s very protective of you ! and he expects the same because you are his and he’s all urs <3

will literally end the bloodline of ANYONE who talks smack abt u

at first, yalls kisses would be with his mask on. he still wasn’t ready to let that open yet

after a whole LONG while , he got enough confidence to kiss u with his scars and everything (which u appreciated and enjoyed very much <3)

he likes holding pinkies while walking together

he’s not really a fan of PDA but if someone is trying to flirt with u????

oh U BETTER BET HES GOING TO BE ALL OVER U (u don’t complain)

he makes flower crowns for the both of y’all daily <33

y’all have hella picnic dates it’s getting out of hand atp! y’all barely eat at home

NSFW!!

obanai is a top with 2 sides to him…

A- he can be the most sappy romantic when y’all have sex

OR B- HES LITERALLY BEING ASSHOLE TO YOU

There’s in NO between

when hes being a jerk he denies orgasms

and his liking to marking is x10

he loves leaving bitemarks he knows u can’t hide🤭

def into u riding him but HES in total control

u brought up that you like it when he puts his hair in a pony tail when y’all have sex so HE DOES IT ALL THE TIME

he’s not really much of a risk taker

will not stop unless your trembling😋

if he’s being sweet he’s take things slow making sure your enjoying yourself as well as him <3

will whisper sweet nothings <3

HIS EARS ARE SENSITIVE‼️‼️

he treats u like a goddess in aftercare

will get u water , a towel , a warm bath , tons of cuddles and a lil snack 😋

HES INTO BONDAGE

HES AN ASS GUY 🤭🤭

—————————————————————

Muzan 😨

to how you got together? you don’t even know

if your a human , you ran into while im a hurry ! you work at a flower shop and was carrying flower pots getting dirt all over his clothes

now he was so ready to end the puny moron who ran into him but..

when he saw you apologizing and apologizing your heart out he felt something? what the hell was that? well it’s not like matters… 😁

If you’re a demon you first of all had to have know him and been loyal to him for CENTURIES for him to even REMOTELY like you

once he does tho you’re always buy his side , like his right hand man/woman! it may seem like he just thinks ur strong but this is his way of spending time with u<33 (while being in denial😓)

now how he asked you out. he didn’t do anything fancy! he just called you in and he straight up told you he liked you and would like make yalls relationship more

if you are a human.. he brought you to a demon meeting and told everyone there that if they even THINK about doing ANYTHING to you he will turn them inside out and throw into the sun<3

he thinks akaza is the best fit for his lovely human wife! you guys get along rlly well

he will keep DOUMA FARRRR AWAY FROM YOU.

koko and u like to read and drink tea together! he finds ur being calming

if you’re a demon everyone already knows u but know muzan expects equal respect from them to you!

though he can be very cold at blunt at time , he can still be romantic towards you!

he likes buying you expensive things to make u feel like a queen

if a human or demon disrespects you in ANY WAY not matter how big or small?they will be no more 😓

NSFW!!

oh man no matter how i see it.

HE

IS

A

TOP

he’s the demon king he expects to be in full control at ALL times and 9 times outta 10.. HE IS MEAN TO U

Doesn’t matter how much he loves you , you will never be superior to him 🧍🏽‍♀️

certified brat tamer!

oh he’s definitely into marking you just the thought of owning what’s rightfully his gets him hard

he’s into degradation so much it’s a problem atp☠️

dont ever degrade him tho

he’ll make sure you NEVER walk again

he puts the d in bdsm

will not stop until you’re a whimpering and crying mess only able to scream out his name :(

he doesn’t know if he likes public sec because he doesn’t like the idea of the chance that people have on seeing what only HE can see

ON THE OTHER HAND. THAT MEANS PEOPLE KNOW UR HIS AND ONLY HIS EVEN MORE….

—————————————————————

Akaza!!

Whether your a demon slayer/hashira or a fellow uppermoon, akaza admired you for being strong

after all akaza think people who r both mentally and physically strong r the best as u can tell with rengoku

before he asked u out, he had to come to terms with it , as he felt he was betraying his late wife

after he accepted the fact that’s it’s okay to move on.. he asked you out in the most akaza way!

he got you a bouquet of flowers 💐 with a little note in it telling u about all the things that he absolutely loves abt u! after reading them , he asked you out!

if you’re a demon you both will be more relaxed about people knowing abt you’re relationship!

until muzan found out.. at first he disapproved because he saw no benefits from u two being in love 🤨

but later on seeing how you two empower eachother be GUESSES it’s ok 😒😒

HOWEVER IF YOURE A HASHIRA..

you two r trying to HARD to keep it super lowkey

it’s mostly night dates n visits you guys can do :( but it’s ok u guys make it work

because the SECOND one or both of ur masters find out… YALL R DEAD

REGARDLESS akaza is very flexible with himself (as a metaphor BUT HE PROBABLY IS LITERALLY)

he absolutely LOVESS self care nights with you!!

talking shit while doing eachother a face masks is one of his favorite pastimes! (the pretty mama gotta do what he can to stay pretty DUH)

douma teases him abt u so much it’s driving him mad

especially because douma is hella touchy w/ h JUST to piss akaza off

which it always ends with douma head on the floor😨

NSFW!!

akaza is 100% a switch with a top preference

he teases u a lot.. BUT IF YOURE A HASHIRA HE STRAIGHT UP MOCKS U😓😓

like he’ll say things like “i thought hashiras we’re supposed to have a lot of stamina.. what’s wrong :(“ ALL WHILE HES SMIRKING

he likes eating you out before fucking you

THE THINGS HIS TOUNGE CAN DO TO UR BODY 😓

he is very rough with you, but holds back a bit if you’re human because if he goes all out he will quite literally break u

IF YOURE A DEMON THO YOURE IN FOR IT ALL😍‼️‼️

even when he’s bottoming he’s still being a little asshole 😒

he completely switches up w/ aftercare! he’s such a sweetheart making u a bath for the two if u to cuddle in for a bit<33

he is a THIGH MAN ALL THE WAY his hands r always resting on them 🤭

—————————————————————

douma!

oh my ?

ok douma likes energetic people so that’s a starter for him to start liking you and ofc knowing you for a couple of decades

i think the thing that sealed off his love for you was the fact that you didn’t treat him like he was weird yk?

you talked to him like he was normal person (well demon but you get what i mean! but he’s SOO far from normal ☠️☠️)

MOVING ONNN he asks you out by making a little game out of it! maybe like pictionary or hang man! it’s rlly silly <33

while your dating even if your a demon or human he will treat you like your made of glass

he views you like one of his dolls ! therefore your his precious

he rlly likes it when you style his hair , in fact he asks you to do so regularly

during the summer time it gets rlly humid n hot as hell in japan even at night so he used his demon art to cool u both off !

akaza asked you to blink 3 times if the relationship was not from ur free will when he found out 😨😨

u guys both have matching fans 🤭🤭

muzan has to literally rip his head off because douma won’t stop talking to u during meetings ☠️

HE IS A BRITNEY SPEARS STAN ‼️‼️

NSFW!!

douma is a switch with no preference it just depends on hows feeling that day (it’s mostly bottom)

He is such a bratty bottom i tell you, he just pushes your buttons til u snap

and snapping means you literally demolishing his ass until she can’t even form any sentences :(

oh jesus christ but when he tops?????

praying for u fr fr

douma is unfair as hell

HE WILL DENY YOUR ORGAMS FOR FUNSIES?? like NOTHING ABT THAT IS FUNNY??

he is súper into bondage

AND EVERYTHING HES SO KINKY

never feel afraid to tell this man any of ur kinks even if they’re weird bc douma will try it out with you no hesitation!

his aftercare is a little rocky but it’s nothing too bad..

at most hes get you both waters and y’all will just chill in bed or anywhere

speaking of anywhere.. HE WILL FUCK U ANYWHERE HE DOES NOT CARE‼️‼️

one time muzan heard y’all bc y’all are SO LOUD (he decapatated both of you on the spot)

he is an ass guy oh my god he can’t go a day without touching it 😓

—————————————————————

Kokushibo!!

okay first all i dont think he cares what type of personality u r (extroverted or introverted)

it does take him a while to accept his feelings towards you because he doesn’t many to get distracted from his duties

but when he pushes that aside he just straight up asks you to stay by his side for the rest of time 💐

he doesn’t do PDA because your love life is not the business of others (muzan thanks the lords for this because he does NOT want to see that)

you guys randomly found a black cat following you one time while on a mission and you wanted to keep it with him!

…..YOU HAD TO BEG HIM FOR AN HOUR BUT HE eventually GAVE IN💔

y’all named her Ei (he will never admit but he will kill anyone who harms her bc he loves her sm)

you like to kiss all 6 of his eyes after a long day (he expects you to do it regularly and gets upset when u don’t)

sometimes asks you do braid his hair to change up his hair style 😋

he makes u train with him to he ensure you’re able to defend yourself from anyone!

matching katanass!! (much to his dismay because god forbid y’all do something cute 😒)

hel likes to carry you in piggy back style a lot 😋

NSFW!!

oh he’s a top no doubt

he will absolutely NOT let u top

BUT YOURE OK WITH IT BECAUSE GAWD DAMN

he is so rough with you that’s all he knows what to do<3

before touching you he wants to see you beg for it he LOVES seeing you all pathetic

HE LOVES FUCKING YOU AGAINST A WALL‼️‼️

he loves it because that means your trapped within in him, with no where to go and he has you EXACTLY how he wants you

oh he pulls your hair a lot when you give him head 🤭

he’s always biting your ears bc he knows they’re sensitive 🤭

he loves missionary as the main position because he gets to see all the expressions he’s making you have <3

HE IS A ASS GUYS ‼️‼️

———————————————————

okay that’s it guys! leave me any request i’ll be happy to do so! <33

[desireangel]

Infernal Desires | Part One

Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader

Synopsis: When your family is caught up in treasonous scandal, the Prince Regent makes an offer that is impossible to refuse. To avoid what certainly would have been death by his sword, your family promises you to a man who is followed by whispers of violence and sin.

Warnings: mdni 18+! Strictly. Dark-ish ??? Aemond! Bad language, reader is implied to be from a certain family but not really, rushed & unedited. Sexual tension, allusions to sex, mentions of death and killing, Aemond gets angry handsy, hair pulling, mention of the noose bc Aemond would never tell just anyone how he feels. This is mainly a word vomit - I am once again incapable of limiting my writing to one part.

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: aaand I’m back with a rewrite of an old fic I started last year! hopefully this is somewhat decent to follow along with - I wrote this while severely sleep deprived, stressed about procrastinating my uni work and knackered from work. Let me know if we are even interested in a part 2 or if I’ve missed any warnings!

It is a debt to be paid and an alliance to be made, that is all it is. 

Easy enough for them to say. After all, it was you who suffered from the mistakes of your family and not them. They may as well have left you to the dangers of King’s Landing with nothing more than a shattered dignity and the tears that trailed down your cheeks. 

Shit. Crying wasn’t going to do anything and while you never intend to present yourself as weak to anyone, there was nothing you could do to stop the angry tears that welled in your eyes. You wondered if your parents truly pained to see their daughter cry or if the tremble in your mother’s lip was nothing more than a pretence. 

Your father stared at the ground by your feet. “It was not meant to come to this.”

“But it did. Are you really going to barter me to–”

“We are not bartering you. Stop saying that,” He snapped. “All you will have to do is take the title as his wife and give him children. It cannot be that bad.”

The glare you sent his way was full of malice and rage. How could he say that? You were better than that, smarter than that and the thought of being reduced to who knows what that man had in store for you as his wife - they may as well have cut your tongue out and made you a slave. Knowing that your family, whom you loved endlessly, were so sure of selling you so easily to a cruel man like Aemond Targaryen caused a dull ache in your chest. 

It seemed hard to breathe through the betrayal, your chest heavy with deceit and heartbreak. Had you known what your father had been planning, you could have run away and found a way to survive without the comfort of your family lands. 

“What Prince Aemond has offered has saved us,” Jericho stood leaning lazily against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He stared at you, his little sister who would have died before leaving him to such a fate. “I do not expect you to understand the complex relationships between our Houses but consider this, dear sister. Would you rather him have the Vale burned to ashes? Have us hung from the walls of the Red Keep? I made a mistake. I know this, and I am sorry but this is the only choice we have.”

There was a tense silence. Jericho had ruined everything with little chance of repair and it was you who had to pay the price. You knew how the Crown punished Rhaenyra’s sympathisers and Jericho had damned the future of your family. What was happening is wrong - war is never worth the price it takes. You wholeheartedly agreed with that but there was something inherently stupid about putting the people you cared about at risk just to send a raven with a conditional offer of a bent knee. 

You blinked as you tried to make sense of it all. “Explain it to me. I do not understand.”

“Aemond Targaryen is Prince Regent but I was once his only friend,” Jericho said. You knew he used the word friend strategically. “He extended an olive branch. Repent our House’s treachery through our last daughter and a pin for the Vale on King Aegon’s map. You could not understand how generous that is. Refusing would have been a sentence of death.”

Friend? Generous?  You would have laughed if you could. You briefly wondered how Jericho had managed to barter with the Prince Regent before they had taken his head. Alas, it would be of no use to ask a question you would get no answer to. The men of these walls underestimated the capabilities of a woman’s mind and a woman’s strength. 

“All he gains is something to hold over your head, brother. Paying off your mistakes with my life? You have heard the stories - he has become a cruel man. Warming his bed when he sees fit and making his heirs will not fix what you did. Many have been executed for far less.”

Your father cleared his throat. “It is our only option. We have nothing more to offer in place and a ruined reputation. The family name holds the last of our power and without what little power we have left, your brother and I would lose the Vale. It is a miracle we have not already.”

“The Prince wants to dangle you over our heads? Fine. If that is what it takes for him to spare our lives.” Jericho’s voice was so rough. It was the first time you had seen him as anything other than gentle to you and you felt a heaviness at the sight of him so distressed. 

There was not much left for you outside of the empty empire that your father’s father had built for your family. At least you still had each other and your titles, and despite the situation that they’ve forced you into, at the end of the day, you all loved each other to death. It would have been a death sentence but you could have run away instead, could have found a life for yourself somehow. But how could you live with yourself knowing that you’d damned those you love because of your pride and fear of life as a princess?

So reluctantly and tearfully, you nod your head and silently agree.

Aemond wondered whether he was making the right decision by giving Jericho a second chance. If it were anyone else, he would have had them hung without a second thought. But you and your brother were different. 

It was a moment of weakness, an inexcusable lapse in his judgment to have spared Jericho’s treason because he remembered you and to have further justified his actions by claiming the Vale through your betrothal. While it was his first and foremost motivation and Aemond was bound by duty to take advantage of the opportunity, it was not the only reason he had suggested the idea at the Small Council.

There was hardly a person in Aemond’s life whom he could call a friend. There was not a soul in this world that Aemond could truly trust, not even Jericho who had been by his side for the first parts of his childhood. 

Nor you, who had at once shown him kindness in his youth despite the mockery that was often made of him. You had only accompanied your brother and father to King’s Landing on three occasions, and what started as your soft conversation and willing smiles for him had left his memory entirely until he heard word of Jericho’s treacherous message. 

Aemond, despite your attempts at friendship, had never returned your kindness. In truth, he didn’t know how to. And quickly, your smiles had turned to frowns and your attempts at friendly talk had become sarcastic remarks and quiet scoffs.

It was also a moment of selfishness and a decision made with nothing more than foolish curiosity. You had always been there, in the back of the picture and unnoticed by everyone apart from him. There was not a person in this world who had peaked his curious desire more than you and the two of you had spent the brief occasions together bickering and pestering one another. Regardless of your initial efforts, Aemond was never your friend. While he had never actually done you wrong before now, you were never really fooled by his deceiving nonchalance and forced manners. 

The indifference that you had for each other had no cause to fade. Even less so with the recent murderous, vile stories of Aemond the Kinslayer who killed his nephew and (while most wouldn’t dare utter the words beyond certain walls) who may have crippled his own brother with Vaghar’s fire. You had almost fallen to your knees upon hearing of your betrothal to such a man.

Aemond was now twenty and three but when it came to whatever distorted plot he was planning, he felt juvenile. Your brother and your father were the perfect pawns. You were the perfect leverage - perhaps a pawn yourself. As much as he convinced himself that having you in his possession would mean he would have invaluable power over your House to do exactly as he wanted within his twisted politics while he has the power to do so, the idea of having you in the palm of his hand, in his control and eventually beneath his body was exciting. 

He was never one for meaningless entertainment. But what was the harm in indulging himself this once?

It was a formality. Being presented at King’s Landing for the first time to your future husband, his family and to those whom he currently ruled over as the woman to be his wife. 

You had changed since the last time Aemond had seen you. It had only been two years but he would never admit to his surprise at just how different you had become from the cowering young girl he remembered you to be when you were just ten and four. 

He had rushed through the formalities of greeting you and your family, welcoming you into what would come to be your home. The lunch was painfully awkward as little was said between anyone. The Dowager Queen spoke formally yet kindly with your mother and shared a few words with you but you could barely engage with her conversation under the burning gaze of the Prince Regent who sat across from you.

It was over quickly, before anyone could start bickering about the traitorous reasons behind your presence. Aemond shortly convinced his mother that no escort would be needed, so long as Ser Criston Cole was there when you both were left to acquaint yourselves in private. You gulped as you were lead shamelessly into the Prince’s chambers. 

Aemond only set a glance upon Ser Criston and the raven haired man took his place outside the closed doors.

You were sure that the Prince’s chambers were as large as an entire wing of your own home yet you felt claustrophobic under his gaze. His eye was hellfire as he silently stared at you, leaning back in his chair and resting his fingers under his chin. There was little you could do but stare back at him, anxiously tapping your foot on the marbled floor.

In your eyes, Aemond had always been torturously beautiful. But here, as his gaze fell upon you and you shared the silence of his personal space, he was ethereal. It caused your breath to catch as you waited for him to address you first.

Shakily, you broke the silence. “Why am I here, my Prince?”

“You are to be my wife,” He drawled, fingers tapping on the desk that he lazily dragged his hand along. What a stupid question. “That is why you are here.”

“I believe you know that is not what I ask, my Prince.” You scowled at him. It wasn’t smart to talk to him in such a way, you knew that. He is Prince Regent, after all. A memory of your brother’s warning to be careful flashed briefly in your mind. 

His expression deceivingly calm, Aemond considered putting you in your place. He may be behaving in a way he does not recognise of himself but he would not tolerate your disrespect. 

Instead, he somewhat answered your question. “We will be married so that your brother’s treason shall be forgiven and your House will be sworn to the King. You will stay here, in my chambers. Do whatever the seven hells you please, it does not matter.”

In any other instance, Aemond would have detested the sight of you gaping at him, stumbling over your words stupidly as your wide eyes confidently held his own. You had changed. Or maybe he had just been blind to the perfect curves of your body or the way you looked at him like he ruled the realms, so submissive yet so full of fire. So tempting. 

He’d condemn himself to the noose before ever admitting to his thoughts. 

“What?” you almost gasped. There was no chance that you could stay in his chambers like this. You were sure the whispers of the Keep were already running amok with Aemond’s insistence on isolating the two of you behind the doors to his private chambers.

Aemond took pleasure in the way you seethed. “I will not make it so easy for you to return to scheming with your treasonous family.”

You could hit him. If he weren’t a Prince, you would have. “You are keeping me prisoner? For something I have had no such hand in?”

“No,” he stood from the table and in two strides, he was in front of you. So close that you could smell the woody oils he bathed in mixing with the smell of his musk and the leather of his clothes. You shuddered. “Maybe I am. Call it what you like. You can do as you please, eat as you please, wear whatever you please, you can explore these halls as you wish. I do not care. But you will listen to me and it will all be as per my will.”

Before you could respond, Aemond continued. “For all they know, I’ve made it clear to everyone that you will stay in the chambers that I have chosen for you, on the other side of that wall.”

Aemond’s eye was a violet-blue inferno as it held yours. He was closer now and you let your eyes drag across every part of his devastating face, swallowing at his beauty and wondering what lay under the leather of his eye patch. 

Struggling not to lose your breath, not to lean in to touch him and feel him, you held your head high and turned your back to him. “Fuck you.”

A gasp fell from your lips as Aemond’s hand found the back of your head in an instant, slender fingers weaving into your hair gently before closing into a tight fist and pulling back slowly so that you were forced to look up at the roof, the back of your head resting against his chest. His other hand wrapped around your waist, holding you back firmly against him. The tightness of his grip on your hair ached and left you dizzy, an unfamiliar longing for his hands to find more of you with the same fervour had you holding back a pathetic whine. 

Suddenly, you were burning from head to toe, a fire setting on your skin as he held you roughly against him, so close that you felt the feather light tickle of his breath grazing your hair when he spoke. He was scorching you through the leather of his tunic, your dress doing little to shield you from the heat of his body.

More than his anger, Aemond’s amusement made the air heavy. The way he unashamedly let his stare fall upon your lips, tucked between your teeth as you struggled to hold your glare, had your breath snatched from your lungs. 

Aemond dropped his head enough so that his lips lingered just under your ear, close enough that you could hear him draw in a breath, dragging his nose across the dip where your jaw met your neck. Your face burned at how shamelessly he had inhaled your soft scent.

“Is that how you talk to your Prince?” Aemond’s voice was low, dripping with a dominance that commanded respect. Placing his free hand on your left shoulder, he slowly turned you to face him, making sure to keep you tightly pressed against him.

Aemond was disastrously beautiful. The curve of his nose, the strength in his jaw, the way his scar painted the top of his cheek, the soft fall of his pin straight hair and the soft shine of his lips which you so badly yearned to feel. You cursed yourself for thinking such a thing as his low voice broke you out of your distraction. “This is my home. Right now, all of Westeros is mine. You are here because I said so, because I own everything. Everything. Including you. You would do well to remember your place while you are here, pretty thing.”

The fire in your blood was rage. You had never felt such desire that had your body craving another. It was anger driving you mad, it had to be. Despite your better judgment, you whispered once again, “Fuck. You.”

His jaw ticked and with a strong yank, you were flush against him. The pounding of your heart was violent and you were sure he could feel it against his chest but you were stuck under his burning gaze. Aemond was angry. And you couldn’t help but think that it suited him. It made him all the more desirable. 

Aemond was strong and hard against your body, tense as he held you so intimately yet so roughly. 

By the gods, you couldn’t even think. What was happening? 

“My Pr-”

“Quiet,” Aemond commanded. His deep voice, raspy with lust and with rage sent shockwaves down your spine. “What a mouth on you, my Lady. Fuck me, is that so?”

You muttered incoherently under your breath, the desire and the fear making your eyes flutter shut as you trembled against the Prince who held you so roughly.

“Hm,” Aemond chuckled when you let out a short whimper. He squeezed you tightly, his voice low and dark. “I could have you begging on your knees, crying for my cock all day and all night and you would never deserve it. You best careful, ñuha dāria, because I can ruin you.”

Another gasp fell from your lips and Aemond took pleasure in the way you squirmed against him, thighs pressing together as you felt the flush of his words through your body. He hummed, you were so reactive. Somehow, you fit perfectly against him, so that he could feel every little tremor he caused in your body, every goosebump that he placed on your skin. His gaze never left you, his resolve solid as iron. 

Your mouth watered at the thought of the things that Aemond could do to you. Thoughts you had never imagined yourself capable of harbouring, especially not for a man like Aemond Targaryen. It overwhelmed you - he overwhelmed you. 

But all you had to do was glance at the map that was splayed over his table and the weaponry he had discarded at the foot of it before you were trying to shove him away from you. Aemond stepped away from you upon noticing the panic in your movements. You barely noticed the flash of worry that passed through his features before he so skilfully replaced his mask. 

The rise and fall of your chest was heavy and you had the sudden urge to punch the sultry smirk right off of Aemond’s face. That was not okay. Right now, you didn’t even want to think about the way your body reacted to him, they way you would have let him have his way with you right there and then despite all the consequences that would rain down upon you. 

“I will not stay in here,” You closed your eyes to avoid his stare, chest heaving as you caught your breath and reminded yourself of the formalities of Aemond’s title. And of the possible repercussions for denying him so stubbornly. “My Prince, it is not appropriate.”

You hadn’t heard him make his way across the room until you heard the door open. Aemond hesitated, his resolve was not as strong as he had thought given the way his heart was beating as if he had run a mile. The strain at his pelvis was almost painful and his hands urged to be tangled in your hair again, squeezing your hips, feeling the warmth of your skin underneath your clothing. Perhaps you weren’t wrong and Aemond returned to his hardened self at the thought of being unable to control his desires. 

“Hm,” he drawled, stoic as ever and standing tall at the doorway and gazing down at you over his shoulder with a red hot spark in his eye. Aemond’s mind raced with a million words, many in the alluring language he knew you could not understand and they all tasted dangerous on his tongue. “You are not wrong. It is not appropriate until we are wed, ñuha dāria.”

[flokali]

— Concept: Student Yandere and Professor Darling

Warning: GN! Reader, blackmail, n/on-con, d/ub-con, age gap, student-teacher relationship, push-over reader, unfair ending, n/oncon recording, uhh ask to tag!

A/N: just a concept that plagued me for a while... hhhhhhh;; i'm so normal ab this

Any dynamic that involve an authority figure and a subordinate, no matter how innocent they may initially seem, are doomed from the start for both of the parties involved.  There’s always going to be an underlying power imbalance, someone who holds the authority over the other; there is no nice way to put it, unfortunately. 

Most of the time, in fics, I see a lot of Yan professors creeping on their students, but the thought of a student Yan harassing their beloved professor has been plaguing my mind. 

The relationship starts sweetly, you’ve noticed a certain student in your course that’s been falling behind, making mistakes that should have long been addressed, their work is always late or partially done and you’re growing slightly annoyed at them for wasting your time and misusing theirs as well. You ended up offering them private tutoring when you found out you were the only professor’s whose class who they’d been treating like a joke. 

They reject it immediately; seemingly embarrassed that you’d even offered. You try to calm their nerves down, you’re pretty young yourself, you only graduated a few years ago and you won’t charge them, it won't be a daily thing but they can pop into your office so you can review and work on assignments and other material they’ve been failing at. The hesitant look on their face seems to slowly be melting off the longer you explain your reasoning.

You continue insisting, you lay out the facts as they are; they’re a brilliant student who has been passing all other courses and extracurricular activities with flying colors, so why is that your course has become such a challenge to them? You have seen them work and the way they behave during class, you’ve even noticed how some students go to them to try and clear up any questions and ask to study together with them. You’d heard your colleagues rave about them being easily one of the college’s star students, so it’s either that they’re making shit up and lying to their peers, which you sincerely doubt since you’ve seen their works, or they were purposefully trying to fail your class.

Maybe they thought it’d be easier, decided to try it and got it in their head they didn’t have to try – after all, it wasn’t as if all of the work they’ve handed is bad, there’s some clear understanding of what they’re doing, it’s just that they keep on messing up some things, even if it means inconsistencies in their work, the assignments that made up less percentage of the overall grade were done well enough that you could fail them but anything that was actually important was clearly half-assed. They were nailing the basics in one essay and then completely misrepresenting them on the next.

You explain your concerns; you’re genuinely worried your class might hold them back from graduating with their peers, if things kept going on like this, they’d fail your class and if they did, they’d have to repeat the semester and risk graduating a year or so late. It’s not the end of the world to repeat a semester, but it’s avoidable in their case and you don’t understand why they seemingly insist on failing.

It’s then that they pull out a card they’d been holding on to dearly for a situation such as this, they’d hooked you in with a months long performance and it all relied on this moment, it was a disgustingly perfect story meant to pull at your heartstrings and lead you into their honey sweet trap;

They start going on about a sob story about their parents’ jobs and finance, how they had been struggling for a while since their parents cut them partially off for choosing a college out of their town, and how they’re supposed to provide for themselves and pay rent and bills, about how their schedule is always so busy trying to balance college, their friendships, mending their relationship with their parents, and their job on top of all the studying they’ve been doing. Your class had unfortunately been the least of their concerns and that they’re immensely sorry to have worried you and that they are willing to do anything to make up for their past grades. They can’t believe they’d let themselves go in your course and they’re deeply ashamed because they enjoyed it greatly, but there was little they could to catch up now.

You can empathize with such a dilemma, being fresh out of college yourself, the memories of balancing relationships, work, and academics are still freshly etched into your mind. 

They clearly seem burned out and your heart aches seeing a student as promising as them dim down so drastically. You’d hate to be one class that impedes them from graduating on time, you don't want to be the lone profesor responsible for slowing down such a valuable asset to society.

You sit them down and try to offer them some advice, you were in a similar situation when you were in college yourself, you try to explain the ways you managed to survive and bypass college, going into detail about your own problems and how you were able to live through it all. They seem visibly more relaxed during the conversation, nodding along and explaining their own feelings and hardships, you both manage to sympathize with each other and come to an arrangement.

It’s completely under the table since you are worried about what it might look like, but from now on until the end of this semester you’d use a more relaxed, less strict grading system for them, after all, they did have a legitimate reason for their behavior and they were willing to make up for it. That is, under the condition that they start taking tutoring classes from either yourself or a fellow classmate, they weren’t able to balance the studying schedule necessary so you’d try and manage at least one aspect of it for them to try and make their life a little bit easier. You reiterate that this must not come out, fully aware that you were breaking multiple rules but you were too much of a bleeding heart.

They agree gladly, but not before asking if you could be the tutor, when you’d questioned their request they explain themselves, seemingly embarrassed for their own reasoning;

“I don’t want it to get out that I’m failing your class, professor…” The smile they wear seems genuine and shy and you nod in understanding, college students are only older teenagers, after all, most of them are still stuck in their high school mentality and you wouldn’t put it past a bunch of immature people to try and mess with someone who was struggling. While the mindset eventually wears off, you understand why they could be self-conscious about it.

What you don’t know is that they’ve been planning for something like this to happen from the get go, always going out of their way to purposefully present themselves as a stupid, pathetic and incompetent student that would need their hot professor’s (your) help to pass the course.

During your first couple of sessions they work extra hard to make themselves seem as ditzy and clueless as possible, making as many mistakes and errors as humanly reasonable without getting you too annoyed at them. They even begin to dress in slightly more provocative ways than they would have before, their speech slowly morphs into a more flirtatious tone, their touches being lingering on your shoulders for longer than necessary, but you brush it off, trying to ignore the signs. Opting instead to think of it as a silly crush, choosing go try to focus on helping them get through this semester with either an above average grade.

It didn’t take too long for their grades to get better but with the current pace, you were afraid it wouldn’t be enough.

So, you ignore the uncomfortable, sinking feeling in your gut and suggest making your tutoring sessions more frequent - instead of once a week maybe twice, or even thrice if you could fit it into your schedule, if it was really necessary.

You didn’t expect them to suggest going to your place.

Originally, you’d suggested either the library or a cafe, but they said they felt too embarrassed and self-conscious at the idea of their peers watching them, they claimed they’d probably make fun of them for needing help for a course they’d been taking for almost a whole semester at that point. It’s silly, they know, but they can’t shake that shame off.

They insist on your place, but you reject the idea, they say it’s either there or at their place, they point out that anywhere else and you both risk either staff or some of the student body seeing you both together and getting the wrong idea. The conversation goes on for hours until you’re too exhausted to continue arguing with them and give in. 

They are a good person, right? Even if the thought of a student knowing where you lived made you uncomfortable, it wasn’t like they’d do anything about it… right?

You try to limit the study space to your living room, the bathroom, and the kitchen every once in a while if you notice the snacks you had brought weren’t enough, but never further than that. Your bedroom and office were completely off limits, you’d made it explicitly clear that if you caught them wandering too far you’d have no choice but to kick them out and stop the tutoring, possibly even having to call the campus’ authorities if you felt they were getting too out of line – your reputation be damned. 

They also were only allowed to come over during the weekends and on specific weekdays where no one would be able to catch them entering your apartment. You didn’t even want your neighbors to see them, even if you looked close in age you didn’t want to hear anything about a potential secret lover sneaking into your house.

They agree and promise to follow every single rule you’d put in place, they swear.

But it doesn’t take long for them to start going back on their word and start “exploring” your living space, it started small – simply walking around your living room, examining framed pictures, looking over books, memorizing the placement of your trinkets and decor, making a mental note of the colors you used in the space, they make sure to remember to try and look up where you got your cushions and everything, they start looking into you fridge and pantry to make see what you eat, if there’s any indication of a possible food allergy; it’s all investigative work for your future together.

It’s not too long before they’ve memorized your living room and are drawn to the rest of your house. They've gone to your bedroom and studied the space, taking note of the way you made your bed and how many pillows you have, they also have made a list of products you use and like, such as scents and soaps, to make sure your transition to their place is as smooth as possible. Soon, they could very well draw a floor plan of your place and recreate your home in the most basic of softwares. 

The only reason you haven’t caught up to them is because they’ve taken to spiking your drinks with sleep medication, strong enough dosages that you’ll be knocked out for a while, but not enough that you’ll realize you were drugged.

It’s during your sleeping state that the next part of their plan starts to take action. They’ll purposefully plant evidence in your home of their presence and snap pictures, suddenly their underwear is in your laundry basket, and why are you wearing their hoodies to sleep, huh? They’re meticulously planned and staged pictures that make it look like you were engaging in a romantic relationship, but it’s not enough — they need more, something more extreme. More incriminating, something that would absolutely destroy your career and reputation if it came out.

What about a picture of them going down on you? Or one with their cum all over your face? Your naked figure cuddling up to their bare chest? Some makeup to look like hickies could look realistic in pictures too, you know. Maybe them on top of you… or you on top of them? Or one where your lips are sucking their fingers like a —! Ah, the thought has them blushing! All of these photos are like their dreams come true! You look like such a perfect spouse, taking their love~ They make sure to clean up the space, but they’re growing bolder and more confident in their work.

They even have videos of themselves jacking off on top of you, but they’re always so good at making it seem like you’re awake and participating in these activities! It really does look like you’re helping them get off with your own mouth.

You’re such a naughty professor seducing your innocent, sweet student like that!

It’s sick, they’re sick and they know it fully well but they don’t care, as long as they don’t get caught – there’s no way in hell they’ll stop.

Their grades begin improving and there’s no longer any fear of them failing your class, in fact you’d go as far to say they’ve easily become one of your best students in terms of grades. Things seem to be looking up and you’re pretty proud of yourself for having had a positive impact on them, which is why you come to the conclusion they won’t be needing your tutoring anymore. 

You call them over to your office after classes, making sure to be as nice as possible. At first you were annoyed and put off by them, their initial behavior was unsettling and persistent, but after a couple of months of getting to know them you’ve grown to care for them and genuinely wish them the best, you’d pointed out how teaching them had been a joy and you’d always end the sessions feeling better than before, which is why you’d chosen to end the tutoring. You lay out the facts as they are, their grades have improved and there’s no longer any threat of them failing your class, you’d also be risking people misunderstanding the situation if it went any longer, if word came out you’d been using a different rubric to grade them until recently and that they’d been going over to your place, it would simply look bad for both of you. You’d risk getting sanctioned, possibly even losing your job if things were taken in the wrong way, and they could repeat the semester or even have their work in your class be null and having to take a new course entirely, if not even being kicked out.

There’s a minute of silence between the two of you, the air is thick and you wonder if you should have been softer in your delivery as you watch them process your words.

It takes them a while, you decide to give them the time because you have indeed noticed how they’d seem to grow ever so attached to you and they might take this a bit too personally, but you’re soon starting to grow increasingly uncomfortable as the silence continues.

You’re about to say something again, try to soften the blow with some generic encouragement about how they’ll do well regardless of you being their tutor or not, when you hear them chuckle softly under their breath.

You’re taken aback, your eyes widen in surprise and you unconsciously lean back into your chair, but that seems to have further encouraged their laughter as soon they’re covering their face with the back of their hand as they double over in laughter.

It’s strange but you decide to give them a few seconds to regain their composure, maybe this was a nervous habit? You’d heard of people who’d laugh when anxious, but you’d never seen something so theatrical.

They slowly sit back up, wiping tears from their eyes as a few chuckles escape their smiling lips. They haven’t fully calmed down but seem to be making an effort to continue the conversation nonetheless.

“Ah, professor,” your last name tumbles from their lips in a joyous manner but their eyes look icy as they stare at you, their voice feels more aggressive even if the words came out from a smile, “don’t be so ridiculous, I think things are working pretty well as they are, I have no desire to change our… relationship.” 

You’re taken by surprise, their word choice feels odd and purposeful, but you insist regardless.

“There is no relationship between us,” you state, “I am your professor, do you understand? That means that if I say your tutoring is over, it’s over; I have been going easy on you and helping you out but do not misinterpret my intentions, you are my student and that’s where our acquaintanceship ends. If you think you’ll continue needing help, I’m certain our TA will be more than glad to step up and help you out.”  

They smile as they take their phone out of their pocket and your stomach drops for a second, wondering what on earth they could have there. They slide it towards you after unlocking it, they’re carefree in their handling of the device and your nerves start to rise, a gut wrenching feeling settles in your stomach, you don’t really understand what you’re seeing at first but once you do you feel your blood run cold.

You don’t even realize they’ve walked behind your chair, too focused on the picture of your naked body cuddling up to their equally nude form. They’re smiling, tenderly caressing your bare shoulders, embracing your body in such a loving manner it looked like you were lovers. When… When did they take this? 

Your voice is shaking but they don’t answer you, instead opting to crouch beside you and show you the hundreds of incriminating pictures themselves.

They start telling you a story based on the pictures, the one they seemed to be telling you even if you knew that everything they depicted was fake, about a promiscuous professor that seduced their student, coaxed them into a relationship and took advantage of their position to influence the student into falling in love with them.

You want to tell them it won’t work, threaten to call the dean or the campus police, but they quickly clear out any confusion; “Would anyone believe a student would seduce a teacher and that it’s not the other way around?”

You know exactly what they mean; you’re the professor, you hold the authority. You had never been able to put a stop to it because you had no idea what they were doing but that didn’t matter, it was your word against theirs and they had “evidence”.

They seem proud of themselves too, telling you about all the ways they set up the rooms and photos to make sure they looked as real as possible. They’d taken their clothes and belongings over to your place in secret, made sure to apply makeup in the right places with the correct lighting, it seriously felt like an art they’d perfected.

You ask them what they could possibly want, clearly it couldn’t be only your tutoring if they were going this far. They smile and tell you they simply want a relationship with you, one that goes beyond a professor and a student; from that day onwards they wanted to be your lover.

You want to say no, but they remind you of the position you’re in; “You know, I’ve got these backed up in a bunch of places, it’d be a shame if one leaked, right, professor?” 

You feel numb as they lock the door of your office and guide you on top of your desk, you barely even register them going down on you - stripping you naked and giving you oral. From that day onward, you were a prisoner to your own student.

Everyday, they’d act like any other person taking your classes, going to college, making friends, as if when your work day ended they didn’t torment you under the guise of love. Making themselves into your lover without your consent, as if you weren’t their professor, as if they weren’t your student. They celebrate your birthday and make you celebrate theirs, you go on dates outside of town so as to not be caught, there are times you almost forget the perverse nature of your relationship - but it always comes back to haunt you. They always come back to haunt you.

They make sure not to show any of the images to anyone for as long as they’re going to the college. They need to keep an eye on you, make sure your looks and personality don’t charm any other student - they’d hate to get rid of their classmates due to your unknowing seduction. They’re so good at acting like they weren’t bending you over your kitchen counter the minute they followed you home, you’d almost believe they were only your innocent, well meaning student if they didn’t send you videos of you two fucking as extra-curriculum activities.   

They also take your courses religiously to make sure to always be in contact with you; you could never escape them, they’ll follow you home and come inside even if you try to shut the door behind you. Whenever you tried changing the lock they'd find a way to break in anyway, on campus they’d sneakily follow you everywhere and harass you. Those who notice, the few that do, think of it as cute, an innocent puppy crush that would fade by next semester. 

It’s not until they gets their diploma three years later that they releases a drive full of the videos and pictures, making sure to add dates and location, everything to prove you were fucking a student. You were a whore of a professor seducing their students.

You’re fired immediately and it’s not long until your friends and family cut contact with you for seducing a poor college student and using your power over them as leverage. Nobody wants to hire you, they’d make sure to document every single dirty detail of your relationship so as to ruin your reputation until you’d be forced to turn to the only person who didn’t turn their back on you.

You can only walk into their open arms as they suggest finally moving in together, possibly getting married, and maybe even having a couple of children now that they have graduated and received their degree.

But even through it all, they still have the audacity to call you their beloved “professor”. 

Characters: Lisa (GI), Scaramouche (GI), Al-Haitham (GI), Kaeya (GI), Ayato (GI), Jing Yuan (HSR), Luocha (HSR), Aventurine (HSR), Vyn (TOT), Rafayel (L&DS), Ibara (ENSTARS), Eichi (ENSTARS), Yuzuru (ENSTARS), Cater (TWST), Rook (TWST), Kylar (DOL), Whitney (DOL), literally anyone you want really (TT)

[sweetnans]

Stuck in the moment || Bakugo, K. (pt.2)

Pairing: fuckboy Bakugo/hopelessly romantic fem. reader

Trope: Enemies/friends to lovers.

summary: You made a mistake, a huge mistake. You fucked the most cocky, annoying, bastard, fuckboy you knew. Bakugo Katsuki. And that fact was against all your beliefs. Now, after the rumor (truth) spread like a pandemic virus in college you'll have to live with the stormy consequences of your acts and whatever trash was brought with it.

a/c: Hey, it's me again. Here we are in a new series I plan to continue. I really hope you enjoy it. I put my favorite man in action (Bakugo) being a selfish bastard that you would love eventually and I couldn't help to put another "trope" I'm a sucker for (guardian/father figure Aizawa) I'm so sorry if that bothers you. Once again, I'm sorry if I misspelled something, English is not my first language. (Not proofread yet)

pt.1 ♡

m.list

When the war was on his full climax, you were almost in the main focus of it, trying to protect the other kids from your orphanage. They were little compared to you. The nurses that usually carried them were dead under the debris from the old building that was your orphanage before Shigaraki and the others from the league broke it down. You saw a lot of people that you knew and cared for, die.

Aizawa Sensei found you because the twins were crying in your arms. You tried to soothe them, but you were scared as well, trespassing your anxiety to them.

He stood in front of you, taking a piece of metal with his own hands to take you out. He had lost his eye and a leg, but he was still putting some resistance to the villains.

You remember how he took your hand to let you out. You were only seventeen at that time, and he took you to the parademics so they could take a look on the twins that were barely five months.

They put you in UA shelter with them.

After the war ended, the twins were adopted by a couple who were in the shelter with you, they helped you to take care of them and they ended up falling in love with their squishy faces and contagious laugh.

The first night you spent alone was the worst. Everyone was returning to their homes because even if the place they lived was destroyed, they had a place to return to. You didn't, so you stayed behind.

One of the countless mornings spent there all by yourself, a knock in the door, startled you.

"Hey"

The man who saved you and the twins was there in your door. You were certain that he was there to kick you out, but instead, he invited you to take a coffee with him.

You weren't feeling talkative at all at first. He was doing most of the chat, and you could visibly notice that he was making an extreme effort on that.

He asked you where you lived before the war, and you told him all your life. Since your parents died in a monstrous car accident until the moment he found you. You told him about the awakening of your quirk and that you wanted to be a hero one day, not knowing that he could pull all the possible strings to make that happen.

He tested you and asked you to show him your quirk.

With his stoic face and all, he was amused really with the facility that you used your quirk without having any training before.

Stardust. He had never seen something like that before. Well, almost, the way that your quirk emerged from your skin reminded him of the way Midnight used her quirk, too.

The dust came right off your skin like little sparkles that mainly conducted fire and electricity. You explained to him that at first you thought that only worked if you detached from your skin and someone lit it on fire with a match or a lighter but then you realized that you could also rub it between your fingers or in your arms and legs and it will generate flames.

He saw all the possibilities of your quirk evolving. He knew what he had to do.

Pitifully, you were behind compared to the ones that were in the heroic classes. They had already fought a war. He started to teach you by himself, and sometimes he asked all might and present mic to help him too. He did a pretty good job training you.

The day that College UA started to take applicants, you were there, the first one on being accepted. Aizawa invited you to a fancy restaurant to celebrate. He spent almost two years training you and getting to know you, and he saw much further than what was on the exterior. He saw kindness and an unfair world for an orphan girl with your talent. He was torn on the inside because of that, so he took the matter in his hands, and in between courses, he extended to you the adoption papers.

Now you were two years into UA college, being one of the first in class and excelling in every kind of training. He was proud of you.

In the meantime, you were hoping that he was still proud of you.

You were outside his office, pacing around before he answered your text, asking where he was. He was working because in his apartment (that was on campus too), he couldn't focus.

The door was in the reach of your arm waiting for you to knock it, but you were scared. What would he tell you? Would he be mad? Because it was obvious that he already knew about it. He did lose an eye in war, but he had eyes everywhere.

Shota: I can hear you outside the door, come in already.

The text in your screen didn't do any better.

You turned the knock and peered between the door and the lintel.

"You are quiet as a mouse," he said sarcastically, folding some papers in his desk.

"Completely lame of you working on Sunday," you walked towards him and sat in the chair that was in front of him.

"I fall sleep at home every time I try to grab your class' tests"

"Oh, so you prefer falling asleep here instead?" You tried to joke your shame away, and it did its effect when Aizawa smiled a bit.

"Don't be brat," he warned lowly, and you rolled your eyes.

Before you could say anything or even start to form a sentence about what happened, he slid some papers on his desk to you.

"What's this?" You questioned, and he motioned for you to grab them and open the folder.

Unwrapping the envelope, you slid your fingers to grab the thin papers to get them out.

"Bakugo Katsuki, medical records," you read out loud, and instantly bright colors rose to your cheeks. "Is this- Is this legal?" You talked more to yourself than to him.

"I'm his teacher, and he took this two weeks ago. Let's be grateful that he forgot that he had to renew his medical tests for this year too"

"I thought that these papers were exclusively to the medical wing." You paused your reading because you felt like you were violating his privacy.

"Yeah, but I know how to pull my strings," he shrugged nonchalantly.

"Recovery girl" you huffed. "I swear that lady loves you"

You ignored all about his heart surgery and went straight to the blood tests to read only what you needed to know. After everything was more than clear and a heavy lift was completely off of you, you gave the papers back to Aizawa.

"Lesson learned?" he asked, and you nodded. "I was young once too and..."

"Please don't. I know how the story of bees and flowers goes, " You cut him off quickly.

"Well clearly"

You wanted to die.

"What I want to tell you, I know you feel like this is going to end you, but it's not. I'm proud of you anyway. With whom you prefer to have some sort of relationship is your choice, not mine. If you want to be with Bakugo-

"Okay, okay, stop," your seat squelched because of you abruptly moving it back. "Nothing is going to happen again. I was drunk and-"

"It was consented, right?" He was about to become berserker.

"Yeah, totally. I was drunk but not that drunk. See Jirou and Denki went very out of their minds preparing the cosmopolitans and-"

"And you love cosmopolitans," he said catching on your story.

"Exactly, I do, so I wasn't gonna say no to them, and then one thing turned to another, and he was kissing me, and -" You went over verbal.

"Okay, now you gotta stop," he pinched above his nose, in between his eyes.

It was comical and ironic seeing you two trying to figure out the conversation.

"You wanted to know!" You pointed out.

"Not all of it!"

"Fine, fine. I better go. Thanks for this. I hope you don't get in trouble"

"Sure, I'm still proud of you, and I'll see you later for dinner. Eri wants to see you. " he came back to grading his test.

"I'll be there"

That was awkward. But at least now you knew that Bakugo wasn't lying about being clean.

The same afternoon, after you went for lunch with Jirou, you were running some errands for college when the lovely smell of recently made coffee tickled your nose.

The cafeteria was open, and it was full of students trying to wake up their minds to absorb some knowledge. Lucky for you, you only wanted coffee because you were craving it.

You beelined to the cashier and asked for your drink, and while you were waiting for them to hand it to you, you could hear someone behind you clearing their throat.

Fucking hell please please please make a hole in the ground at your feet and swallow you whole.

"If it isn't my number one fan"

You rolled your eyes until the practically disappeared inside your skull.

"Can't we not?" You tapped your fingers against the counter.

"I think you owe me an apology," Bakugo said, changing the playfully and sarcastic tone to something more serious and pissed.

"For what?" You were still trying not to face him because the mere fact of what you said in front of his friends made you cringe and he was the full reminder of it.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you." he gripped your shoulder and moved you, so now you were face to face with him. Ugh, he looked mad. "I didn't like what you said. Everyone is talking about my dick"

He was so rough with the words and all, so you weren't much surprised because he was talking so bluntly in a crowded place.

"Well, let's see it this way, they are going to think that I'm lying so that would lead to make them think that we never actually fucked so problem solved, it's a win win" you explained without thinking much of it but it actually made kinda of sense.

"No, that's not going to do," he denied, crossing his arms over his broad chest. He was wearing a wife beater in the middle of autumn. He was nuts. "Tell a friend about how you lie and spread the rumor yourself. It's not that hard"

"I think you're only messing with me, I can't believe the Bakugo Katsuki cares about what people think" you grabbed your drink after the bartender yelled your name and Bakugo followed you like a puppy. "If you care so much, I don't know, leak a nude or something. I ain't telling shit, " you said almost in hurry because you were getting out of clever responses and because he was almost fuming, you didn't want it to get caught in a fire with him being the main source.

How would you explain that to Aizawa?

...

Something changed in Katsuki after the war. He never had experienced love in his life, let alone a fling or just romance in general. Was it worth it? Having someone to cling on knowing that something as sporadic as a war could break it all? For him, it wasn't worth the shot.

He was a grumpy kid with behavioral problems when he started UA High School. He hated most of his classmates (especially Midoriya), and he also truly believed that he was above everyone. He just wanted to be hated, and he didn't care.

With the years passing by, the war, his heart problems, and everything, he tried to calm himself down. He undervalued his classmates, and now he felt like they were all worth his time at least. He still thinks that he's above everyone, but he uses it as fuel when one of them challenge him.

His first year as a college student, he realized that heroics could be more than just training and superpassing the others. He still trained in hardcore mode, but he also made time to other activities, like hiking and flirting.

The best thing about flirting and fucking it was that he didn't need to be involved with the other person so he didn't have to make an effort to talk about anything, he liked his privacy.

"That little bitch sweep the floor with you the other day" a boy who was in the changing room with him said like they were friends. Bakugo didn't do "friends" either. He had his former class as equals, and that's it, and the guy who was in front of him flexing his abs wasn't one of them.

"Don't call her that," he grunted, almost annoyed.

Bakugo had manners himself and her mom taught him good about treating women. You did sweep the floor with him, but that wasn't a good excuse to call you that. The guy realized where Bakugo drew the line and without making any sound he left the room.

"That was manly." Kirishima appeared, drying his hair with a towel. "I thought you would agree with that fucker"

"F'course not," he rolled his eyes. "She seems fearless. She had the guts to embarrass me in front of you and didn't even flinch when I bit back, impressive, " he muttered the last part to himself. "I saw her again at the cafeteria a few days ago, she kicked me straight in the sack with her smart mouth again"

He wasn't good with words, but in the last years compared to his high school years, he realized that Kirishima was his man to trust so he started to loosen up a bit when it came to talking to him.

"Yeah, I never expected to be in the front row when someone kicked your ass, verbally." Kirishima sat next to Bakugo and didn't miss the lost look on his friend's face. "What's going on? Do you care about what she said?"

"No, not at all." he shook his head, pretending that the movement would stop the itching on his head when he remembered how pented up you looked. "It's just, I don't know, I can't get her off my head"

"Maybe it's just a recessive thought provoked by the fact that no one has ever talked back to you that way, especially after the act, like they all seemed very compliant running their tongues to spill the details, I think it's just because she seemed-"

"Regretful," Bakugo completed with a huff.

"Yeah, I was thinking a better word, tho." Kirishima scratched the back of his neck, feeling a little pity for his friend. He had never seen him like that.

Was it something to be worried about? Well, maybe not, but the gears turning in his brain about you, about how to address the situation, about how you made him feel and how to make you pay, oh man, that was truly something to be concerned about.

End note: Hey, me again! I know this isn't what you expected because of course, you wanted more interaction. Still, I thought that we needed a little background first because reader wasn't present at a time when Bakugo was in high school since UA college is a continuation of it. For me, it's super funny the idea of UA college, because the college I go to has the same name, anyway, I can assure you that the next chapter is going to be better I swear.

A penny for your thoughts about this (not really but express yourself)

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Do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere! All rights reserved.

[styxwanderer]

Hey you can ignore this if you don’t want to answer that. This is an idea to a reaction for the Twst cast to Yuu/Reader being mad at Crowley.

But IMAGINE Yuu/Reader getting told by Crowley that they can’t actually return to their own world because either it wasn’t possible to begin with or had some kind of time limit to which they could return home. And what if Crowley knew for a long time and just didn’t tell Yuu for whatever reason. Now they are so mad and want to commit arson.

I, at least, would ask Ortho, Epel or Floyd to help me empty out Crowleys office and pile it up outside making a big bonfire. (I wold make copies of all his Documents, (I’m not that cruel) I would just hide them to see the look on his face) I would also add things like magnesium, sulfate and other tings to make pretty colored flames.

I love your writing style and I hope you could write your ideas about this.

NRC Tales: No Way Home |

〖Twisted wonderland〗

Dear Neufra darling, I love that brain of yours. i want to kiss it! Sorry it took a while, my brain just kept on generating new ideas for this prompt. I hope you enjoy this fic.

•´¨*•.¸¸.•*´¨•.¸¸.•♪♫•¨•.¸¸❤¸¸.•¨•♫♪ •´¨*•.¸¸.•*´¨•.¸¸.•

“HOW COULD YOU?!” You screamed at the face of the old crow. All respect and calm demeanor to the side. 

“N-Now now..” Crowley was taken aback at your outburst. He  would have never expected these reaction coming from you, the usually calm and nice you. Yet here you are, vein threatened to burst out of your skin.

Why had this happened? 

It is simple.. 

You had discovered that this bastard of a headmage of yours could’ve actually send you back home a month ago, but since he missed the exact timing and all, he decided to cover up his mistake hoping no one would noticed. 

You went to report the headmaster of the progress you made and clues you have regarding a passage for you to went back, yet the crow was not in his office. 

Then you discovered the letter and a piece of paper explaining how the passage mirror works in regard to traveling through dimensions. The next possible time for a dimension travel is approximately 1000 year after the last one. This enough had make your heart clenched. You noticed the date written for the next possible time for dimension travel is a month ago.

Everything was blank for you, “no.. its cant be.. no no no..” 1000 year?! Is this a joke? Human can’t even live past 200. You ears ring as you have difficulty to breathe air. 

Admist of your panic the door turn revealing Dire Crowley. 

“Oh! You surprised me! You should’ve waited outside if i am not in the office .. well? Are you alright?.”

“You… am i alright?” You scoffed. As it clicked to you, the paper was in crowley desk, He knew, he knew but choses not to tell you anything, he knew but chose to pretend and leave you with your meaningless tedious investigation.

“What’s the matter?” 

“How could you…”

“Sorry?”

“HOW COULD YOU!!” You screamed pointing at the paper, you felt blood rushing up your head as tears build up your eyes, you can never see your parents again. Your siblings, your beloved pet, your friends. ‘I am now truly as good as dead to them.’ 

“A—ah.. now.. now..” 

“NOW WHAT?! I can’t.. i can never see my family… why? I can’t… HOW COULD YOU!” myriad of emotions blast through your nerves, but most of all the pain in your heart. You can’t breathe. If you can’t breathe then might as well scream. 

“YOU KNEW. YOU KNEW ABOUT THE DATE! WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME? Why?! “ you could feel your salty tears rushing down your face.

“I am sorry.. but..” Crowley was taken aback by your outburst. Sure he felt guilty but at the same time, he couldn’t reverse time. 

“It was in your desk.. it was in your desk all along. The solution.” You vision has now blurred its view. You tried to wipe it but it kept flowing.

“I am sorry.. there is nothing i could do.. on the plus side, you have a new family now in twisted wonderland you see, new friends too, so don’t feel so disheartened.”

You could not believe your ears. You lift your face from your hand as you stare at his smiling face.

I want to punch that.

“ARGHHHHHH” You grab the nearest lamp stand as you pulled it off the switch as you lunged to this bastard. 

“AAAAAA!!” The crow screamed

‘BOOM!’

‘Crashhh!’

Your body was hurled into the desk by an explosion, landing you to the inside of the desk. Everything ache, you felt that you might have cracked or broken a bone, but you are too numb to notice.

“Headmage!” The door slammed open as the red haired man walked in as he rushed towards Crowley side.

“What happened here? We heard shouting.” The man in a fancy business suit follow in tow.

“Somebody finally have enough of your shit huh old man.” The lion werebeast too walked in.

“Now who would’ve done that?!” The white hair man 

“No matter we need to dispose such unruly person, tch.. it’s always violence first.” The actor draw his Grimoire wand. 

“Hii.. is this an assassination attempt? That’s scary.” A flying tablet walked in.

“Whatever it is, such matters could be solved instantly.” The man with two black horned too entered.  It is rare for Malleus to be present the dormleader meeting, this time Lilia had kept his eyes glued and tell him to go to the meeting hence the rare occurrence. 

They all have just finished their discussion in the dormleader meeting and were heading back to their respective dorm before hearing a loud shout and noises coming from the office. They decide its best to investigate. 

In a glimpse riddled saw somebody was about to attack the headmage and hence the explosion spell. 

The lightbulb of the lamp shade has shattered upon impact. Some of the shard had managed to pierce your hand. But no matter , you could not feel the penetrating shards nor the flowing blood. You were driven by rage, rendering you senseless of others. You did not even noticed who had entered the office. All you want to do is to get back at Crowley the way you know to do. You can’t do magic, but you sure can cause physical harm. 

A loud slam brought the dormwarden attemtion to you. You whom had felt your shoulder dislocated, decided that it is an obstacle, hence you slam your shoulder back in place by slamming it to the desk. You felt no pain, just a hollowing despair.

“A monster…?”

“No thats..”

“Y/n!!!”

The housewarden could only gawk at the sight of your furrowed eyebrow, vein popping out on your side. A clear fury drenched your face.

“no no no no….DONT GET IN MY WAY” an anguished cry came from your mouth as you eerily stood up and charged towards the headmage. Your bloody hand leaving trails as you shove Kalim and Vil away so you could get to the headmage. 

‘Y/n?!!’ 

Just as you were about to get a hit of that masked bastard you felt two strong arms holding you under the elbow, dragging you away from Crowley.

“Unhand me! I SAY UNHAND ME!” You struggle through Leona’s grip, kicking both your legs. You are manic.

“Eugh, calm down! Calm down, Y/N!” Leona whom had managed to snapped out of his shock tried to reason as he struggled to keep you in his hold.

“NO!! Please!! LET ME GO! Let me go!” Your eyes starts to blur once more, this time you can’t wipe the tears away, you don’t bother to do so, you had one goal to achieve. Tears are pouring freely from your manic eyes, eyebrows scrunched up marring your face. There is blood coming out one side of your face from the explosion. You are bruised all over, your clothes ripped and untidy, your hair a chaotic mess. 

Your appearance brought all of them to agape.  

Malleus upon snapping out rush to your side, helping leona to contain you.

“Y/n, please calm down.”

“Erkh, oi stop gawking start helping.” Leona snapped 

“You are bleeding!” Vil run to clasp your hand that hold the lamp shade tightly. 

“Let go.. your hand is injured.” He tried to pry it off your hand but you hold still. 

Your bloodshot eyes still focused on Crowley as you try to shake these obstacles. 

Kalim and Idia are staring blank to afraid to move. The gentle sweet you all gone replaced by your rage.

“Y/n! Im.. im so.. in sorry..im sorry” riddle stammered, he was ridden with guilt for casting the explosion that caused your injury, he hurt his precious person. 

“Whatever the fuck did  you do to rouse this reaction?” Azul turned to Crowley. Unable to stand the sight of your despair. 

“Uhmm..” crowley hated the attention that was instantly directed to him. 

“TELL THEM WHAT YOU DID! TELL THEM!! You.. YOU BASTARD!” You shouted still in their grasp unable to move further.

“I might have missedthetimelimittosendthembackhome. And the next possible date for it to happened again is 1000 year after last month Its not my fault—“ 

“FUCKKK YOUU!” With a new found power you try to pry those latching to you.

“Oii!” You manage to stagger Leona as he lost his grip, letting you slip. as much as Leona think you deserves to beat the crow to pulp he noticed your injured state, not wanting to worsen your condition he held on.

“Stop it! Stop it y/n. You will injure yourself.” Kalim rushed to hug you on your waist allowing Leona to keep his grip on you. 

“How could you missed the date for such important event?!” Riddle shouted to the headmage.

“And you don’t think to tell them!” Azul turned to shout.

“MOVE! AAAAARGHHH!!”  Frustrated by your inability to move you wailed.

If the housewarden were to be asked years after of the events that happened today they will always remember your anguish filled scream. Its deafening yet they could only feel their hearts cracking, as if they were hit by a hammer that let the pain vibrates through their whole body. 

It lasted not only for 5 second, you were screamed continuously for how ever long it takes for your lungs to be a depleted balloon. It is relatively a short time, but it felt like hours for the housewarden. At the end of your screamed you slumped down as those surrounding you lowered you to the ground slowly, vil finally taking the lamp shade out from your grip. 

“I… im… im never going to see them again.. im never going to see my family again… im never ..” you are interrupted by a sob before fully bursting into tears. Placing both your hand to your face. 

You felt yourself being wrapped in an embrace of the lion and a leathered hand patting your head. Kalim still holding you from the waist was moved to tears too. 

“Its not fairrr..” you squeek between sobs.

“ How could you be so irresponsible?” Vil shouted towards crowley.

“God help me im about to smash this lamp shade to your head instead!” Vil shouted

“Now now c-calm down.. lets talk about this.”

“What is there to talk about? Look at the pain you have caused!” Azul glared

“This is totally unacceptable! How could you?”

Riddle felt his head starting to colour red.

“This is enough, you have proven to me that you do not deserve to stand by them, now perish !” Malleus lift his hand up from your head as he walked towards  crowley, he himself felt enraged for what he did to you.

“Wa.. Wait wait wait!” Crowley stepped back, he sure wasn’t expecting the dormwarden to gang up on him, more the king of briar to be involved.

Malleus got close and closer as he clasp his hand on his neck.

“Eekh.”

“What is going on here.” The red robe man walked in inspecting the office, he was followed by the dog loving professor who too had been alerted by a heart wrenching scream. Behind both of them the big gym teacher too, follow them inside. 

The teachers sure wasn’t expecting the headmage to be choked by one of the student more over Malleus, they too wasn’t expecting the headmage to be surrounded by the other housewarden who had looked enraged. 

“what is the meaning of this” crewel demanded. 

Just as the teacher rushed in, the door opened for another trio.

“MYEH! What’s all the noises!” Grim rushed inside of the room

“We heard a commotion. Is everybody alright?”The spade boy rushed in with the heart.

The three of them were in their way to pick you up, since they were informed that you are going to report to crowley about the first year group hard-found investigation. They were planning to walk you back to the ramshackle dorm and have a midnight hang out with you and the others. 

Upon seeing the sight of malleus choking the headmage and the wrecked office they froze.

“Uwah.. what’s will all these mess..” ace surveyed the room. 

Crewel too observed the room before his eyes trails to another group in the room, he found you bruised, bleeding and sobbing into your hand as leona hugged you protectively  from behind and kalim, who is also crying, apologizing to you as in condolences, hugging your waist. 

“Crowley what did you do to my pup?” He spits. He won’t take shit from the man, looking at how broken you are not to mention the scream. He could feel the despair from your form. 

“I demand answer now!” Trein who had think of you as a stepchild, steps ignore the state of crowley who was still in the hold of Malleus. 

“I, i accidentally well.. miss the date in which the is the only possible date to open a transport to another dimension and the next date would be 1000 years from last month.” 

“And how are they in a ragged state?”

“Uhm.. that is my fault i thought the headmage was being attacked by an stranger so i cast an explosion spell resulting them to be thrown to the desk and landed behind. I am sorry.. im sorry y/n” riddle face was painted with guilt.

The silence given by the teachers is foreboding.

Crewel pull out his phone as he dial a number. “Hello I’d like to report a child neglect. Yes from NRC.”

“Wait wait wait! Please! Its a simple mistake, we living being made mistake.” 

“Not as crucial as this, this is just pure idiocy, that comes from me who doesn’t really understand much.” Vargas said.

“This is truly despicable.” Trein shouted

“Thats so fucked up!” Ace shouted

“No shit!” Deuce continues. 

“I knew we should never trust this bastard!” Grim snarled. Grim then rushed closer to where you slumped. Concern painted his face. “Henchmen…. are you alright.” 

The commotion starts again as the teachers too started to bash the neglectful headmage.

“… What.. what's the point..” you whispered a sob , slowly you put down your bruised and bleeding hand.

“What?” Kalim asked between sobs.

“What’s the point of living… everything… everything that i do is meaningless…” as the last word spout from your mouth your eyes rolled to the back, with your rage calmed into despair the extend of your injuries soon begun to catch up on its effects resulting your consciousness to fade. Its most likely from when you hit your head on the desk and then the floor resulting a blood injury on the side of your head.

“O-Oi… wake up. Y/N WAKE UP!” Leona stern voice laced with concern has alerted 

“Y/N! Y/NN!!” Kalim and grim yelled trying to wake you up. 

All attention turned to your limped body as they rushed towards your side. Crowley being dropped to the ground with a loud thud.

“Move movee!” Riddle shoved through the crowd.

“Leona lay her down and slightly elevate their head. Kalim let go.” Riddle shouted.

The sobbing Kalim of course refused to let you go, he is concerned for his dearest friend. Vargas had to pry Kalim off your waist as he clung to you. Leona comply because he know better.

Riddle begun a quick check up on your breathing. 

“They are not breathing!!” Riddle cried

“Move away give them space” Crewel pushed back the crowd as they all step back. 

Riddle then begun to do CPR on you.

The others watched with anxiety running course their veins. Dread filled their system as they thought of the worst possible outcome. After a while riddle managed to get you to breathe. Even if its faint at least you are breathing. With leona pressing on the wound in your head to stop the bleeding.

“We need to bring her to the infirmary hurry!” Riddle yelled.

Leona being the most athletic picked you up in an ease and rushed towards the infirmary. The others followed agreeing that there is a more precedented matter at hand and decide to deal with crowley after the matter is settled. 

Once they have arrived to the infirmary the nurse rushed towards you, ripping you away from leona’s arm asking them all to wait outside as they perform their knowledge to treat you. 

Leona stared at his bloody hand, it is not often that dread filled his guts, usually its a bitter annoyance, yet not all he could feel is anxiety amd dread. 

The rest was no better, they all thought of what they could’ve done to prevent this, what they regretted. None of them are prone to wishing, since a wish are for children. But now they found themselves wishing that all of this is a nightmare. Wishing that this would be over soon. Wishing for you to just open your eyes.  begging and praying for you to be alright, and for the you whom would embrace them in a warm hug with a gentle smile on your face to return not the lifeless ghastly you. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

In Ignihyde dorm,

For once idia wished he is present in that office instead of observing from the comfort of his room. His room felt chilly, shivers run down his spine, he was left speechless, so was ortho, who had been brought to attention by the commotion could be heard from idia’s monitor just as he was about leave to the ramshackle dorm gulped.

“Brother… what should we do?”

“I.. I dont know ortho..but we can’t leave them like this.”

Idia rushed as he and his brother rushed to the infirmary.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

in the infirmary,

The nurse finally were able to give you proper care as they patch you up, all that rest was for you to wake up.

Those do not settle well for any of the teacher nor the housewarden and your precious trio. They decided to keep you take turns to keep you company. Not knowing when you will wake up. 

The first is grim since he insisted so hard and refuse any other attempts to debate him. This meant of course that ace and deuce too to insist. And hence they got the first 5 hour to company their injured friend. Ortho insisted to stay with the group as well. Saying he is able to detect vital signs as the hours near the time of your collapse a crucial hour. So he wanted to check in you. 

Second goes to Kalim who is persistent about being any help to you what so ever. Kalim felt hopeless and useless. He wished he could’ve done something for you. And he blame himself for not being able to prevent this event. 

The third is Idia who had come in a rush with ortho, he volunteered to everyone surprise.

The fourth goes to Malleus, whom had  insisted since “he could stay up late than any other”. 

The fifth goes to vil whom had insist that since it would be in the break of dawn he is the most eligible guy for this because he woke up early. 

Sixth goes to Leona who snapped out of his trance.

Seventh to Azul, who was looking pale as if a shark was tailing him from the dark depths, he felt powerless like he was when he was a kid. And he loathe that. 

And last but not least to riddle. Whom still feels guilty for casting the explosion spell.

The days in which you are laid unconscious were tense and restless. An eerie silence has swept NRC. The dormwardens who were not on their shift returned to their dorm bringing the news to those who knew you. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

In Heartslabyul dorm,

When Riddle was rigid, he was devastated of the fact that he himself was the reason of your injury. He was greeted by trey and carter who upon noticing his face was concerned amd ask him what happened. 

When Riddle finished with the news, both thought that riddle was playing jokes at them, it is after they noticed Riddle tearing up that they realized how dire the situation was. The both of them are shocked to find that their friend bawling from guilt.

Trey and Carter calmed Riddle down and talked him out of his guilt, it truly wasn’t Riddle’s fault. 

The two of course wanted to give the crow a piece of their mind. Carter was about to make a video cancelling the headmage in his magicam (he was stopped by Riddle, even though he himself wanted Carter to post it.).  

Trey hastily walked to the kitchen to bake a lot of baked goods for their injured friends, having nothing to do Riddle and Carter helped Trey gladly, and so the three of them spent all might in the kitchen making fantastic delicious food for you. but of course they can’t forget a tart for the crow, a tart that shall be name ‘the pest killer’. Carter and Riddle too gladly help with his ill intent baking. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

In Savannaclaw dorm,

Upon noticing the smell of blood on their housewarden who looked grimmer than he usually was Ruggie and Jack rushed for answers. 

“Eugh so noisy…” 

With a sigh Leona begun the story, recalling the previous incident. 

Jack rushed to the infirmary, disregarding Leona’s attempts to stop him, leona could only sigh and let Jack be. 

Ruggie was in shell shock, he cannot believe the headmage! Just what kind of headmage neglect his duty?! He pity you, he wanted to go along with jack but he decided its best to do so later. Now he will plan the demise of a crow with the lion. That’s what he gets for messing with their pack.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

In Octavinelle dorm,

Azul was staggering back into his dorm, noticing the arrival of their friends Jade and Floyd. Noticing the pale they tease their friends but in actuality they are curious and concerned about the thing that made their friend so disheartened. Azul share the story, he felt himself going back to his overblot personality. 

Jade and floyd were silent, their face grim, their eyes were flashing dangerously. They looked to each other, and then a eerie smirk painted their face, 

“we can’t let that slide can we.” Said jade.

“We are going to give this crow the tightest squeeze ever!” Said floyd.

“Yes.. maybe a bot of a waterboarding action would make the crow realized that he fucked up.” Azul joined in.

But of course they find your well-being to be the outmost importance, so they will busy themselves watching over you until you wake up.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

In Scarabia dorm,

Jamil was surprised to find his ‘friend’ come back to Scarabia a crying mess, when Kalim notices Jamil water begun to pour once more from his eyes as he rushed to hug his friend. 

“What happened?” Jamil sigh asked patting Kalim back. He was no surprise of Kalim

Burst of tears, his childhood friend are prone to waterworks since he wear his feelings by the sleeve. It is the reason that shocked him. 

‘That damn bird brain!’ He hissed internally. Jamil wanted to go to you directly, but Kalim cling to him making him stuck. 

They did get their turn on the shift and so the snake waited patiently. He decided to cook a recipe from his mother for when he was sick hoping that would help you with recovery even if you. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

In Pomefiore dorm,

“Why so grim Roi du poisson?” Rook questioned, noticing the slight slump in his overall perfect posture as vil walked back to his dorm. 

“Of course i should’ve expected from your ever so vigilant eyes…” vil begun to tell the tragic tale of yours. 

The french boy could feel his smile dropped 

“oh what a tragedy. How the most beautiful rose are the most prone to be picked first. They would wilt in the dirty hand of such a scum. Such a greedy hand doesn’t deserve to hold such pretty flower on their blooming days.” 

His face was slowly casted with the shadow of his bangs. As malice run course his vein. He was not a fan of violence but to protect such a rose he wouldn’t mind to get his hand dirtied on. 

He decided to listened when vil started planning the demise of the dirty crow. He supported Vil cruel method to the fullest. 

Epel who was eavesdropping on the conversation rushed to the hospital wing of NRC, he wanted to this is a mere talk, but he knew Vil would never fuss himself over meaningless gossip. He still wished it was not real and you are fine and awake and will greet him with a smile on your face. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

In Ignihyde dorm,

Upon returning to his room Idia slumped in defeat, he is useless powerless once more, 

“I can’t… I can’t lose another person..” 

He begun to bury himself in work, he wanted to make sure you recovered well and Crowley to get what is coming to him. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

In Diasomnia dorm,

The briar king arrival was greeted by his vice leader and his two peers, but to him it was just his family greeting him back.

“Waka-sama! Thank you for your hard work!” The booming voice snapped Malleus put of his rage trance. He didn’t even notice the ice trail he was living behind. 

“Oh uh… yea.” Malleus answered 

“Its.. cold isn’t.” The silver haired boy softly spoke. 

“Malleus is thought i thought you to better control of your emotion. Look at the ice trail.” The bat fae man scolds.

“Ah i did that. Im sorry.” With a snap of his finger the trail was gone. But now he was faced with the concerned faces of his family. 

“Malleus what exactly happened..”

“I guess i need to tell you this as well.” Malleus sigh in defeat as he share the tale of how Crowley absolutely messed up your mental capacity.

“I should’ve crush his throat when i got the chance.” 

The room seemed to dimmed. When the shock was broken Lilia was cursing the damn crow. Silver who was angry stayed eerily quiet. ‘Unfair’ he thought. ‘Thats unfair!’ He felt dreadful sorrow for you enough to filled hos eyes with tears. After all that you done for them, they could not help you. 

Sebek who was in a silent trance excused himself in a hurry. His pale face is apparent. ‘No you have to wake up… i still have some stuff i haven’t get to say to you’ he thought as he rushed out of his form into the infirmary. He may sound rude or strict but he do truly cares about you and his friend. He regretted not being frontal about his feelings. 

The rest three of them could only do what villains do best. Planning to absolutely crush the crow with a wretched smile on their face. Even silver was in on the plan, without the wretched stained smile of course, he believe just was needed for you, he will become your knight in shining armour. Afterall, the damned bird had attacked their family, and there is a dire consequence to pay. 

All of them regretted that they couldn’t protect your from this event, they wished they were aware of what Crowley did. This includes the other teacher who wished they to participate in the investigation to find your way back home so that they could at least be aware of Crowley and his neglectful behaviour. If only they are apart of the investigation, they would be able to prevent this event from going. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The infirmary was cold and quiet. Ace, deuce and Grim all looked sullen. Grim was teary, crying for you to wake up soon. Deuce was praying for you to get better, to open your eyes at the very least. 

Ortho was observing you diligently monitoring your vitals and looking for a sign in case your symptoms worsened. Though that doesn’t mean he was not haunted by the event. 

Ace was deep in his thoughts how he regretted not coming with you to the headmage office.

All of them regretted not being with you in the office. The image of your hollow dull eyes was imprinted in their memory. Your scream ringed in their ears. A shadow casted the infirmary.  

First was jack who came in,

He was taken a back by the sight of your limped body, the visible bandaged wrist and arm a sore to his eyes. He felt rage for whoever made you like this. 

Epel was next, 

He looked as surprised as as jack muttering “its a lie.. its a lie no way..” before going mad himself  he wanted to cuss and find Crowley right then and there, but he stop himself for the same of you. 

The last to come was Sebek, 

Who had come with a teary eye. Seeing you so broken, fragile like glass he turned away to wipe the flowing tears. How sad your fate were. He find himself mad to the perpetrator. ‘How dare they.’

They all wished to have been there to inform the investigation  they all did to help you to go back home. They wish they are in the office comforting you rather than leaving you alone to discover such secrets. And to be there to prevent you from spiraling into a despair manic breakdown. 

When their turn is up, they exchange their shifts, the sneaky first year get to company you twice since they insisted to go with their perspective housewarden when it is their shift.

 Grim was there all the way, and if he wasn’t, it meant that he was dragged away from your bed by just anybody to get himself fixed and have a proper meal. 

All of them begged for the little miracle they could have. They know miracle does not happened at all for the likes of them, but this time, just this once they wishes and pray to the great sevens to bring you back, to make you open your eyes. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Your eyes could finally flutter on the dawn of the fourth day since the incident. You noticed that the sky was still dark. You tried to look around but a sharp pain ring your head causing you to winched. 

“Mon cheríe!” The hunter, whose eyes were fixed on you relaxed as he rushed towards your side. 

“Thank heaven! Please lay still.. you don’t want to further the damage in your head.” Vil sternly reprimand, he was sitting on the other side with a book in his hand.

“Y/n! Y/n!!!” You are awake!!!”  You see feel a soft furry friend rushed to hug you from your bedside. 

“Thank heavens!! Hey grim! Give em sum space would’ya!” The purple haired boy half shouted, 

They felt a part of their anxiety evaporating from them. But that is not enough

“Hnn.. what.. happened?” 

“…..”

“You…” vile stammered

“Y/n!! What's my name?”

“Epel, of course your name is epel..” you croak, your throat dry. 

The three people plus direbeast in the room sigh a heavy breathe, your memory is intact. 

“Here drink some water. He gently prop your head with his hand as he gently tip the glads of water into your parched mouth. 

Licking your dry lips you felt yourself weakly placed back to the bed.

“I.. i passed out…”

“Yess.. you have a concussion from the explosion.” Vil explained.

“The explosion…..” you muttered.

“I… i can’t go back… i can’t.. my family… i .. i can’t see them anymore.” You sobbed . Large bulb of tears spill from your eyes as quickly as it had pooled. 

The room was blurred by your tears and your sobs filled the room. 

“.. in sorry..” you hurriedly bring your hand to cover your face. You felt embarrassed to cry like this but you can’t help the tears that is pouring. 

“No stop that.. it’s not your fault mon cheri.”

He brought your hand back to the bed. Rook took a handkerchief from his pocket as he wipe your tears gently and carefully. Rook doesn’t find it disgraceful to see you in tears, in fact he thought your eyes looked like a jewel. 

He wished to comfort you very much, to take away the pain from you, but all he could do now was simply wipe your tears. 

Grim was silent. He could only lay his head on your chest as he try to comfort you with his padded paw. 

In all honesty Vil and Epel too doesn’t find you disgusting or messy for crying, rather they want you to cry on their shoulder, to comfort you the best they could. Same as Rook, they wished to wipe that tears away from you.

“Whatda’ya mean?! If its anybody fault its that damned bird!” Epel half screamed in his thich accent.

“YES YES! If i meet that crow! I’ll bite em for you!” Grim enthusiastically said.

“Epel is right! Never apologize to something that is not your fault!” Vil sternly advice. 

“.. thank you.. guys..” You try to suppress your hiccup and sob 

You were driven back to sleep because of your little breakdown much to the dismay of your friends. Your body and mental was too exhausted after the sobbing mess. 

They were all relieved that there doesn’t seem to be a sign of your physical damage to worsened but they could not bring them to be happy because you are so broken mentally. The little breakdown you have made a painful sting in their heart. 

“Rook inform the others that y/n is awake.” Vil ordered.

“Yes, Roi du poisson.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The others soon rushed to the hospital wing upon hearing the news. Their excitement was crushed to see your sleeping red tear stained face. 

“Hey, i thought you say she was awake?” Floyd lowly muttered, irritated.

“she fell back asleep.” Vil said

“Don’t mean with me?!” Leona growled 

“And who asked you to urgently come to infirmary?”

“Y/n really woke up!” Grim argued

“Yes! And she fell back to sleep from.. crying.” Epel continued.

A commotion starts, They were being loud, and accidentally waking you up. 

“Uhmnn…” 

“Oh she really is awake!” 

“Hey! Great now you woke her up!”

You were rubbing your eyes. As you begun to slowly sit up ignoring Vil insistent to get you to laugh down. 

“At least lay here,” he grab another pillow from a nearby empty bed and he prop them up to make a comfortable sitting cushion.

“Thank you, vil.” You smiled. 

“uhm.. i made everyone worry.. im sorry.” You attempted to bow, you meant to only hurt crowley but here you are bai g a burden to everyone. 

Everyone protested. Vil grabbed unto you shoulder and prop the back to the pillow stack.

“What did i just tell you about apologizing for a mistake that isn’t yours?”

“Ah but i did made a mistake.. i become a burde-“

“Don’t finish that word! You are everything but a burden! And it was me who cast that blasted explosion spell, i caused your injury, i am very sorry you/n” Riddle felt shame as bow for forgiveness to you.

“After all you have done for us! It is us who could do nothing to help you. We are the one who should be sorry.” Lilia affirmed.

“ you have always been here for us, yet now…” Ace uncharacteristically said.

“We are sorry..” Kalim who was bought to tears again and were being held by Jamil as to not rush as hug you.

“No.. no.. please, Riddle i don’t blame you at all everybody in the bright mind would do that, and all of you are never a burden to me.” 

“Then don’t ever say you are a burden ok” silver spoke.

“Yes don’t you dare utter such blasphemy to your name!” Sebek yelled

“If its anyone fault! Its that damn birdbrain, don’t worry shrimpy I’ll give him a hugee squeeze for you~”

“Yes a punishment is at due.” Jade joined in.

“With no charge of cousse don’t worry yourself!” Azul smirked.

“Now here you muct be hungry, i made you my mothers recipe.” Jamil brought out a warm stew for you to eat.

“Yes! Jamil food always healed me when im sick!” 

“Ah yeah! After that you could have all the cake, tart, cupcakes, scones you’d like!” Trey add. Showcasing the whole baked goods he mentioned. Some of them are made in a cute animal shape.

“The heartslabyul bois made them with love~” Carter giggled.

“ whoa they bought the whole bakery to the infirmary!” Ruggie gawked

“Heh such a beloved spoiled herbivore you are.” Leona mused.

“You need to eat well y/n, for recovery!” Jack reminded.

“Yes that is true! A high nourishing food is good for a speedy recovery!” Ortho beamed. 

“Ah ok.. you went to pick the spoon up as the stew was placed in front of you, only to feel a the sun-kissed skin gently slap

It away.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He scolded. Jamil then picked up the spoon and scoop the stewing stew from the bowl, then he blow on them gently before moving it close to your mouth.

“Eh…” you blushed upon realizing what happened.

“C’mon the stew is spilling.”

“Ah ok..” you stammered. You hesitantly open your mouth allowing Jamil to feed you.

You felt quite embarrassed as you chew away the meat in your stew. 

“Oi…” 

“Why does it have to be you who feed them?” Ace grumbled.

“Because he made them.. don’t worry we will get out turn soon” deuce grinned.

“We should’ve bring them food too! Don’t worry next time i will cook a delicious meal for you!” Lilia announced.

“Oh uhm.. hahahha no.. i dont want to burden you hahaha.” You panicked.

The rest of them reminiscence the day they get to eat lilia food, the lot of them turned green.

You glanced at Tsunataron, Sebek, and Silver for help.

“Ah uh don’t worry we will help too!” Sebek boomed.

“Yes we would be the outmost help!” Silver joined.

“Yes we will keep a close watch!” Malleus continues.

“Hahaha thank you guys” you giggled.

“I too have a mushroom soup in mind! They are very nutritious you see!” Jade beamed as he always does when he talk about his mushrooms.

“Eughh stopp! Dont feed just mushroom to little shrimpy! They might get stomach pain!” Floyd complained 

“I agree with floyd, though the best of monstro longue food is at due!” Azul promised.

“I too have a recovery recipe for you, you will be healed in no time!” Vil said

“Oh! The great roí du poisson cooking for you, how luck must you be mon trickster.” 

“ big brother and i could come up with aomet too right, big brother!”

“Yes leave it to big… maybe not food hahaha.” 

Idia stammered at the end

The lot of them seeing this begun to have an idea to bring you food in the idea to get to feed you. Leona despite not saying anything brought you meat to eat, he said meat is very important for recovery. It was a very delicious meat, 

“Of course i bought them from only the best restaurant.” Leona smirked. 

…Rich guy.

Ruggie brought you his grandma ultimate recipe.

Idia unable to cook decided he will just made you a gaming console for when you are bored. You thanked him. He put a multiplayer game and other game too so the three of you could play together.

Occasionally the faculty member come to visit, 

Crewel would come bringing a potion for your health, he did scolded you for letting your anger control you. But at the same time, he understands why. Mainly he was concerned for his child pup

Trein would check up on you occasionally sneakily giving you treats, anything for his ehem favorite adopted grandchild student. 

Vargas patted you on the back trying to console you and occasionally visit you too, he noticed how small you look and can’t to want to protect you. “Next time there is any problem just call daddy! And i will be there in an instant!” He boomed with his white shining teeth. He really could an actor in a toothpaste commercial.

Sam was filled in on what’s happening after crewel came in eyebrow burrowed, smelling of tabacco and demanding the finest bottle of wine. He felt pity for his favorite child costumer. He visited you bringing you trinkets and candies from all around the island, he said its free of charge and that not to mind it since he was giving the candies away anyway, though you suspect he lied about that part. He often patt your head as you pop the snack or candy he brought for you.

The first year would visit you for hours after class it seemed like it has become their hang out place. Right after school ended, they rushed to go to the infirmary. They bring snacks with them and of course the famous Felmer apple juice. They would bring today's notes to you and do homework together, play game together, or any other stuff to cheer you up. 

The lot of them made you feel better though you are still saddened about not being able to see your family, you have to agree with Crowley that the family you have in NRC is heavenly for you.  

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Finally come the day you are discharged. 

The dorm planned a party for your recovery of course with the permission of the teachers. They bring all sorts of food and drinks. You enjoyed everything, their laughter, their pranks, the way they joked, the way they care for you and one another. Everything made the hollow in your heart to fill up.

“Now are we ready for the main event!” Azul announced.

“Eh main event?.. what is that.. i was not aware..” you whispered to grim.

“Hehehe! Just wait and see henchman!”

“We sure are!” They cheered, their eyes were glinted with mischief and wickedness.

“Introducing the flaming pest!” Lilia cheered as he flew above and lifted the sheet covering the stand.

It was Crowley tied to a wooden pole as stack of hay was stuffed in his surrounding. 

“What.. what!! HEY!! Released me this instant!!”  He screamed. 

“Whats the meaning of this! I expect better from you housewarden!! Crewel! Trein! Vargas! Sam! Save me!!”

He was meet with a smirk. Crewel raised the wine glass to his mouth as he sip the succulent wine. “ may you rest in pieces.” The two other laughed. Trein just smirked silently and sip his wine ready to watch the beautiful flaming pyre. 

“NOOOOO!!!” 

All of them jeered and laughed. You could only find your self in a state of shock amazed of house brilliant and caring your friends are, you are brought to tears.

“Ah y/n is crying!”

“Why are you crying dearie.”

“It must’ve because of that bird!” 

“I DID.. Nothing .. at least now.” Crowley defended himself.

“No it’s not it, it’s just.. I'm just touch at how caring and lovely you are.” You are meet with couple embrace from the first year group whom had stayed by your side. 

“What a heartfelt sight you truly have a gift to bring people together. BUT NOT THE RIGHT TIME NOR THE RIGHT CAUSE! C’mon i am Sorry alright!! Pleasee!” 

“Thank us later once the show has begun, now be amazed!” Jade beamed from your behind holding your shoulder as he lifted your chin up to see the stage. 

“Alright!” 

“Pull the lever!” Ruggie howled.

‘Click!’ 

“No nooo!!” Crowley shouted, he was so very sure he was going to die burning to the death, yet no fire ball come through. A bunch of hay fall through from nowhere, a summoning spell.

Then followed with tons of bags, robes, and coat. Another batch comes tons of hard worked documents., and a sofa.

“Eh..”Crowley was confused about the whole thing, until he realized that all of those stuff was taken from his room and office. 

“NOOO!! My Dioz branded coat! My Guzzi Bagg! MY VALENTINE ROBEE!!! I worked hours for that document pleaseeee. my 8 million thaumark couch!

“Set them on fire!” Kalim cheered

“YEAYYYY!!” 

Carter was filming the whole thing. He will send the video to idia to render for high quality and will distribute them to those attending including the teachers. 

Each dorm were given a chemical to throw into the fire,

The Heartslabyul were given Lithium to turn the fire colour red.

The Savannaclaw were given Sodium to turn the fire colour yellow.

The Octonaville were given Caesium to turn the fire colour bright purple.

The Scarabia were given Radium to turn the fire colour bright red.

The Pomefiore were given Potassium to turn the fire colour darker purple.

The Ignihyde were given Indium to turn the fire colour Blue

The Diasomnia were given Boron to turn the fire colour green.

This of course is conducted safely. The idea comes from both Rook and Trey with the approval of Crewel who is also supervising them in this event.

“NOOOOOOOI!!!!!! Stop stop!! Burn me instead nooooo!” Crowley struggle two times the effort but to no attempt. Leona and jack had made sure that the ropes tightly dig into the headmage body. 

“ARGHHHHH!!” The headmage felt utterly despair as he too faint from shock.

You are mesmerized by the different colour that flashed by the pyre.

The whole party cheered. The bags, coats, and robes completely turned to ash.

Everybody had the same thought in their head. 

‘Serve him right for messing with y/n.’

You grow silent again for a after cheering as reality seep in on you.

“Hmm what’s wrong, are you not satisfied with the display?” Jack concerned voice brought attention from the rest of the group. 

“No it’s just.. since i will be here forever i don’t know where to go after i finished with my studies. I can’t do magic so i am practically useless in this world.”

“What are you saying henchmen! You and i will be together forever i am the one who could cast magic and you shall be the brain!”

“Yes and besides I wouldn’t mind if you take the last name Roseheart if you would allow. I will forever protect and i will provide you with anything you want. I will be a lawyer you see! You will be living the best of your life with me. And grim too of course. Besides i need to take responsibility for giving you, your first kiss.” Riddle instantly offered.

Your brain short circuited. “Huh… eh..” 

Did you just got proposed?!

No way right?!

“NO WAY! Y/N you should take Ashengrotto instead you see i will be the next biggest billionaire! You wouldn’t need to worry about penny of what you want to spend, unlike a lawyer who need to rely on a client to earn living. And frankly, CPR does not count as a kiss!” he sneered

“What do you mean by that huh?!”

“No, y/n you should come to briar valley instead! You could marry one of my son, i have options anyone you choose would guarantee to provide you with the best, Malleus will be king of briar, my other two will become a royal guard! Although i wouldn’t mind if you want to spend your days with my last years.” Lilia claimed.

“F-father.. but y/n its true i will provide you the best I could.” Red tint his cheeks.

“YES! I don’t care if you are a human, you are truly the best of best, i would be honoured if you are willing to spend your days with me.” Sebek blabbered blush. 

“Y/n would you consider, you shall be the queen of briar valley and i your king. We shall spend our moment with joy, i guarantee your safety and riches.” Malleus confidentially proclaimed red tinted his ears.

“Hah, and what lock her up in that dark gloomy tower of yours? Y/n you should ignore these guys. Come with me and become y/n kingscolar, your good friend ‘Tsunatarou’ are not the only one with a royal blood. Come with me, i will ensure twice what they offer. Be my queen herbivore.” Leona smirked extending his hand. He might sound pompous but the red tint on his face says otherwise.

“No, you might be royalty, but the al asim family possess riches compared to a royalty! And Kalim is the heir of al-asim! You should come to scalding sands instead!”

Jamil shouted, yes he just promoted his best friend, but who to say you can’t have an affair with him. 

“Yes! Yes!” Kalim agreed

“No way! Your family is riddled with murder attempts the leeches are guaranteed to be veryyyy secured! Shrimpy won’t need to be cautious when eating their food nor do they need to sleep with one eye open.” Floyd smirked. 

“Yes you could chose the either of us, but in all honesty i dont mind sharing with my brother you see, we always share out stuff anyway.” Jade laugh into his hand like a proper gentleman he was.

You never would have thought to see the leech brother blushing but here you are, 

“I am a renowned actor! The number one barchelor in the entire island! You should take my hand instead! I will promise you fame and glory! You will be rich and beautiful, you shall be my queen.” Vil too joined in with a blush to his face.

“Heh all actor have expiry date you know.” Leona tease

“What do you mean by that?”

“He meant when you are all wrinkly and old!”

Ortho tease, the gremlin inside of him seemed to have awakened.

“I am still far from that age! I am not old!!”

“But you depend on it.” Ortho teased again.

“Oh truly marvelous! But y/n I wouldn’t mind if you choose to go as Schoenheit, I too have to propose for you to take the name hunt, I promise to protect you and guide you till the day we have to separate naturally.” Rook proclaimed.

“Rook.. you dare betray me..”vil was once again shocked.

“You shouldn’t shock since you saw what was under my room wallpaper, and me as your supplier.”

“Huh.. that made perfect sense.” Vil sigh.

“Y/N .. w-would you go to S.T.Y.X with me! I know i might not be much, but i assure you! Styx have the best protection, they even manage to beat all of these housewarden. I want to rule styx with you… uhmm thats too cheesy!! The point is!! I would like to offer the shroud last name if you allow me to be with you!!!” Idia stammered. His hair tip turned pink as he fiddle with his fiddle with his fingers out of nervousness.  

“Yes y/n! We would have a lot of fun adventuree!” 

“Absolutely not.. not in a chance i’d let that happen.” The overblot boys yelled.

“SHADDAP!! It's not your choice its theirs!” He yelled.

“ARGHHH… ya kno, the bunch of ya! Not everythin is about richesss! Y/n! We could build our Felmer farm together! And I will take care of ye for the rest of ma days! I vowed to ya!” Epel declared! Face flushed red both from anger and rage.

“The Bucchi name would look good on you y/n. I promised to find any means to provide for us! And even if you don’t I don't mind if you want to have an affair with me, i can share!” Ruggie assert himself.

“Or me in that case! I promised to protect you as long as I can breathe, I may not have a mountain of riches but i will ensure a peaceful calm life for the both of us. What do you say y/n would you take the howl name?” Jack continued. 

“Y/n I may not have much as well, but I can ensure you a fun and on going life! I will provide for you! All you need to do is give cay- cay lots of love ok? And I promise you everything and the name diamond.” Carter too extended his hand.

“My family have a bakery and my sibling, and my parents are a very lovely and warm people! My parents and siblings loved you already! I will vow to be there for you always to the end of days, to provide for you in sickness and in health.” Trey fixed his glasses in nervousness, yet he delivered his message perfectly. 

“NO! Y/n! MY MOM LOVED YOU ALREADY! She kept going on and on about when you are going to visit! You don’t need to worry about horrible mother in law!! She adored you just as i have come to adore you… i-if you are willing to take the spade name.”

“No way! They would not last with somebody with the brain of a peanut! Y/n i will climb to the top of top! And provide you with everything there is in the world! How about that? Will you take the Trapolla name.” Ace too declared.

“So who would you choose?” 

“LIKE HELL I’D GIVE MY PRECIOUS PUP TO YOU BRAT! Wolves! STAY AWAY! Y/n will you become my child instead! Here you can sign your name here and here! I will provide you! And if you want a job you could be my exclusive model for my brand!” Crewel wave his riding crop to shoo away your barchelor as he hovers you and adoption paper.

“Teacher we too can find y/n a promising job! Away, no harrassment shall befell them!” Some of the students argued.

“I jest, y/n you should come with me! I have experience with kid. You shall be taken care of with the outmost dignity. I have enough to provide for everyone.” Trein claimed.

Vargas and sam are satisfied to be the strong protective and the spoiling uncle, yet they found themselves offering you the same offer.

“I own a family business far and wide and mysterious, i will tell you all about it if you sign here and here.”

“I will protect you from all the troubles amd boys! Over my head body!” 

“Whoa, you manage to make the students fight one another and the teachers too! Such power you have, henchman.”

You are left a blubbering mess.. 

“Huhhhhh!!!!!!” 

“Don’t worry the great Grim will choose the most perfect eligible barchelor for you! You don’t mind anybody right?!”

“A..AA ….”

“Okk! such trouble this henchman brough me" Grim smirked

And hence the chaos ensued.

Though, it is safe to say that Crowley would not dare to pull something as such or mess with you again. Reports said he had become more diligent and responsible to his work. Such trauma you caused him.

So, whose hand will you take, my dear?

[Words 9219]

» End «

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

[A/N]

This is by far the longest fic I had written 9219 words?! YIPPEE

taglist: @neufora @shironakuronatasa

[thecharacterchronicler]

Please (Part 2) || Ominis Gaunt x Reader || Smut

Outline: After your arranged marriage and wedding night with Ominis, you found yourselves alone in the Gaunt house for a few days.

Word count: 2’840

Warnings: Explicit smut, pregnancy (mentions).

(May contain a few mistakes as English isn’t my first language.)

(( Part 1 - Bloodline )) - (( Part 3 - Heirloom )) - (( Masterlist ))

Ominis’ didn’t have much time after your engagement was announced to come up with a plan but he knew that the most important thing would be to keep you as far away as possible from his family after the wedding. He had thought about asking to settle with you in the Gaunts’ apartment in London or maybe in his family’s cottage by the beach but, as it turned out, it was his family that had decided to take their distances, probably because they wanted to facilitate the procreation of a heir.

His parents had left the manor for London only one day after your wedding, leaving you very little time to take the full measure of the Gaunt’s cruelty and darkness. As for Marvolo, he stayed elusive about where he was going to spend the next few days but what was important was that he was gone, far away from you.

With only you in the manor that he used to dread, Ominis slowly started thinking that it wasn’t so bad after all. The heavy atmosphere that usually weighted on his shoulders seemed a lot lighter now that you were around. Even his perpetual darkness had became somewhat lighter since you had been there with him, filling the house with piano melodies and laughters.

As per usual, he found you in the music room, your fingers practicing a tune that he knew by heart by now. He stood on the threshold for a moment, enjoying the melody and your presence. Even if he couldn’t see, the way the room radiated with warmth and light because you were in it made his heart swell.

For once in his life, Ominis was happy. Truly happy. Because you were there, shining a new light on everything he used to hate. Starting with that piano that his mother always forced him to play until his fingers hurt… Now everything he wanted was to sit next to you and play a duet along with you.

“Oh, I didn’t see you there.” Your voice said, as you stopped playing.

“Don’t mind me, I was just enjoying the music.”

He heard the air that left your lips every time you smiled so he smiled back at you, waiting for you to resume your tune but you didn’t, nervously fidgeting with your music sheet instead.

Ominis felt a pinch in his chest. He felt it a lot lately. It usually happened whenever he wondered if you were happy too. Because he was, and his only wish was that you felt it too. If you weren’t, then it meant you were feeling as trapped in this marriage than what you would have been if Marvolo had been your husband instead. Of course, Ominis would treat you better. He was your friend after all, your best friend. But he still couldn’t help but wonder sometimes who you would have chose to marry if you had had the freedom to decide for yourself. Sebastian ? Garreth ? Amit ? Even if the idea of you with another man made him sick with jealousy, he wouldn’t blame you if that was what you wanted. He sincerely wished you could have avoided a lifetime trapped with a Gaunt, even if it was him.

“I have a present for you.” He said, since you didn’t seem to want to play the piano anymore. He walked in your direction, stopping precisely close to the bench you were sitting on. His hand disappeared in the pocket of his vest, retrieving a small black box from it.

“You shouldn’t have.” You started, but your breath caught in your throat when he opened the box to reveal a beautiful gold ring, with a stone as black as a starless night on it. You traced a finger on the symbols engraved on the gem, feeling a powerful energy buzzing from it.

“It’s a family heirloom.” Ominis explained, as you were about to ask. “With a pretty ancient coat of arms engraved on it. I’ve been told my ancestor got it made for the woman he loved… It always gave me hope that maybe, some Gaunts are capable of love after all.”

“It’s truly beautiful.”

“It’s yours.” He took the ring out of the box, outstretching a hand in your direction. You placed your hand in his and he slowly slided the jewel on your ring finger. It fitted you perfectly, as if it had been made for you.

“I’m honored, thank you.” He heard you stand up from your seat, feeling you suddenly very close to him. Then, your soft lips pressed a kiss on his cheek, sending a wave of adrenaline through his body. “We haven’t really talked since our wedding night… Maybe we should.”

“What would you like to talk about ?”

“Our… marital duties ?” You said, a blush creeping up to your cheeks.

“Ah. That.” Ominis breathed, equally turning crimson.

“Your mother told me that I must birth an heir by the end of the year… But I wanted to know what you want.” You explained, your tone nervous.

“I want this bloodline to die with me.” He said, with no hesitation. Then, he realized that maybe, it wasn’t what you wanted to hear. “I apologize if you were hoping to have children but I do not wish to bring another Gaunt into the world.”

“I understand…” You said, softly, but he could tell something was bothering you. “I suppose I’m better off having no children than being forced by my husband to birth more babies than what my body could endure.”

Ominis took a deep breath. In other circumstances, maybe he would have wanted this. Especially with you. But he swore to himself a long time ago that he would never provide another child for his family to torture until they could turn him or her into a monster like them.

“If you wish to see Sebastian, or another man, I won’t stop you but I need you to be careful to not accidentally get pregnant.” He said it as stoically as he could, wanting to seem impassible so that you wouldn’t know how it consumed him with jealousy to imagine you with someone else. But he would survive it if it might make you happy.

“What ? You think I want to be with Sebastian ?” You asked him, incredulous. “Do you want to be with someone else ?”

“I don’t think so.” He replied. “I don’t really care for such things…”

“Oh. I see.” You said, and maybe he should have been clearer to avoid hearing such disappointment in your tone. He didn’t really care for such things because all he cared about was you. Since 5th year, the only person he ever imagined being intimate with was you. And if he couldn’t have you, then he wouldn’t have anyone else. “I’m sorry if last time was terrible, it was my first time. Maybe with some practice I could get better at it.”

“You… Want to practice ?” He repeated, unsure of what you meant.

“Yes ? Maybe you could tell me exactly what to do to please you.” You suggested, causing very inappropriate ideas to flash in his mind. You couldn’t be serious. “I’m eager to learn if you are willing to teach me.”

In the few days you had spent alone in the manor, after your wedding, you had talked to him as you always did, like a friend. Not once did it sound like you regretted what you had done on your wedding night but you also didn’t seem to plan on doing it again. You were back at being friends and, with his family away from the manor, Ominis had decided to respect this by sleeping in the living room instead of sharing a bed with you.

So hearing that you were, in fact, not opposed to consume your wedding again left him slightly dumbstruck for a moment. Were you doing this because his mother had instructed you to ? Because his parents - or yours - had threatened to hurt you if you didn’t produce an heir quickly ? Or could it be possible that you just wanted him ?

“Please, Ominis.” You begged, quietly. You stepped closer and planted a wet kiss in the crook of his neck, causing him to take a sharp inhale of air.

There you were, asking him again so nicely and politely for something that he was dying to give you. He knew by now that he didn’t have the willpower to ever refuse you anything at all, whatever you wanted, he would give you. No questioning, no hesitation, all you had to do was say please in that agonizingly desirable tone of yours and he would grant you everything you asked for.

His arms closed around your waist, pulling you against him into a feverish kiss. You left out a breath of relief against his lips, making him kiss you even harder in return. For the past few nights, he had laid awake on the couch, thinking about the curves and dips of your body, the way he had traced them and memorized them, forming the most detailed idea of what your body looked like in his mind, after all these years during which he barely dared touch you.

He put so much strength into his kisses that the pressure of his body against yours forced you to take a few steps back. He followed each one, until you could no longer retreat, your back pressed against the imposing piano behind you.

“Sit down.” He instructed you, but he left you no time to do it, lifting you up and sitting you on the keyboard, unpleasant notes played all together resounding in the room under your weight.

He fell to his knees in front of you, his hands reaching to your legs and slowly moving upwards, scrunching up the fabric of your skirt in the process until it was all the way up to your hips. He tugged on your underwear and you moved to help him remove them, once again causing a few notes of music to fill the air between you.

“What should I do ?” You asked him, the uncertainty in your voice making him grin.

“Nothing at all.” He replied, leaning forward to bury his face between your thighs. You gasped as soon as you felt his tongue between your folds, tasting you in a way you didn’t think possible.

“But…” You started, but interrupted yourself to catch your breath, your head swimming from the pleasure his tongue swirling around your sensitive clit provoked inside your body. “I want to learn how to please you.”

“This is pleasing me.” He assured you, because it really did. He had always wondered what you tasted like, and what sounds would come out of your mouth if he licked you down there. He was indulging into one of his wildest fantasies about you and nothing could have pleased him more at that very moment.

“Ominis…” You breathed, wanting to argue but moaning instead. With his hands gripping each of your thighs to ensure they were as far apart as they could be to grant him access and his tongue unrelenting in the way it explored the walls of your pussy, you couldn’t help but give in, closing your eyes and pressing your back against the piano, biting your lip to silence another moan.

When he pushed his tongue passed your entrance, your hand fell by your side, pressing a few keys in the process which made you jump but didn’t seem to phase him the least, maybe because your thighs were muffling every sound in his ears, apart from your delicious cries of pleasure. You put your hand on his head, fingers messing up his neat hairstyle to pull him even closer, wanting him deeper. So much deeper.

“I need you.” You managed to tell him, even though your body was trembling in bliss. “Please.”

He groaned against your folds, eyes closed. He needed you too, his cock was swollen in his pants, wanting nothing more than to be freed and shoved inside you for relief.

Maybe if he was very careful…

His mouth left your core and he wiped his lips with the back of his hand as you kept panting, perched on the piano. He knew it must be a lovely sight to see, you flushed from the pleasure he had given you and your legs spread open for him, your folds coated in his saliva and your own deliciously sweet arousal.

He stood up, opening his pants to free the erection so desperate to be inside you again. He heard how you quietly gasped as he pulled his hard length out, shuddering with excitement. He leaned down to kiss you, wondering if you could taste yourself on his lips and, as you attempted to catch your breath, he flipped you over, bringing your feet back to the ground and your hands slamming the piano keys in a abrupt melody once again.

He had to pull your skirt up to your hips again, exposing your round ass to him. He traced the contour of that part of you he had yet to discover, his fingers digging in the tender flesh a few times as if wanting to take the full measure of what it looked like. And, once his curiosity satisfied and the feeling stored in his memory, he aligned his cock with your entrance and pushed it in, slowly.

He had expected to find a resistance there, as he had last time, but his cock gently slided all the way inside you without you making a single sound of pain or discomfort. He left out a breath, loving how warm and tight you felt around him. He enjoyed it all the more knowing that he was welcome there, your wetness making it easy for him to bury himself inside you all the way until his hips were squeezed against your ass.

You felt incredible.

So good in fact that he struggled to control himself, wanting to thrust in and out of you so hard until he could be satisfied but he was determined to be a gentleman. Instead of the rough shoves he craved, he rocked himself back and forth painfully slowly, earning some lovely sounding moans and whimpers out of you as a reward for behaving.

It felt as if you were getting tighter the more you were crying out in pleasure and he knew he wouldn’t be able to take it much longer. He had came inside you last time, because it was your first time and he wanted to do things the traditional way. He took your virginity which you were willing to give him now that he was your husband. And he gave you his too, even though it felt a lot more insignificant in comparison. He had spilled his release inside you, to mark you as his, to forever be the first one to ever do it. But he wouldn’t do it again, the risk was too great to take.

He had to be cautious.

He pushed himself forward with more strength than what he had meant to use, making the piano sound again under your shifting weight. You bounced back against him, making him hit so deep inside that you loudly moaned, body tensing as violently as your pussy tightened around his cock, momentarily trapping him inside you and violently pulsating all around him, trying to get him to fill you up as he naturally should. And he almost did. It felt so good, way too good to resist…

He managed to pull out just in time for his release to splash out of him, warm drops landing on your ass and thighs. He breathed loudly, cock twitching in his hand as he emptied all of his pant up desire for you that he had fought against in the past few days. The quantity only rivaling the intensity of the pleasure he felt.

He didn’t notice you move, too busy enjoying his climax so he jumped slightly when he felt your lips around the tip of his still hard cock, your tongue licking the pink flesh with delight.

“Wh-What are you doing ?” He asked, breathing ragged. He had to lean forward and rest his hands on the piano to keep his balance, the sensitivity of his cock heightened after the strong orgasm he had.

“I wanted a taste too.” You admitted, licking each side of his shaft with care. He closed his eyes, a groan escaping from his lips as your tongue collected the salty wetness that coated his length.

He cursed and another load of his release filled your mouth, his body trembling and his head swimming in bliss. You sucked every drop out of him and swallowed it all, as he sat down on the piano chair with a dizzy expression on his face, struggling to catch his breath.

You allowed him a few minutes before you rose up from your knees to kiss him, gently pressing your hand against his racing heart. He kissed you back, tenderly, as his fingers caressed yours, contouring the new ring on your finger.

♡ - (( Tip Jar )) - ♡

Previously in this series;

Next in this series;

[imaginespazzi]

Part 9: These Moments Of Ours

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 10 - Part 11

Just crash, it's our time now (to make this work second time around)

(In which a people-pleasing author gives the people what they've been begging for)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff with a little bit Angst

Words: 7.2K Words

TW: Explicit Sexual Content, Swearing

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 Thank you for being oh so patient with me because I know I really made y'all wait and hopefully it'll be worth the wait. I'm gonna keep this pretty short and sweet today so onto the usual. Please keep sending me your thoughts and theories; they're the best motivation a girl could ask for. I did edit but feel free to point out the inevitable typos/mistakes. As always, let me know what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see going forward. Have a lovely rest of your week my loves :)

April 2030 

UConn 84   Notre Dame 82 

The blue and white section of the Moda Center crowd erupts in cheers as the final buzzer rings through the stadium. Confetti rains down on the court as the UConn Huskies are crowned national champions once again. Paige’s scream is drowned out by KK’s louder whoop as the two of them excitedly wrap their arms around each other, jumping up and down like they’re college students all over again. 

“Oh okay, love the inclusion,” Ice rolls her eyes but it morphs into a grin as her former teammates pull her into their group hug, all three of them making a ruckus that’s drowned out by the crowd around them roaring in excitement. 

“Can y’all be a little quieter. I’m tryna mourn my Irish in peace,” Sonia says lousily, glaring at them in irritation as she fiddles with her clover bracelet. 

“Oh cheer up Citron,” Paige teases her Wings teammate, “at least y’all finally made it back to the Final Four.”

“Fuck all the way off Bueckers-”

“GO HUSKIES,” a loud voice interrupts Sonia’s grumbling as Jana rushes into their section, the Valkyries center smiling vibrantly as she crashes into her old friends, “BLEED BLUE BABY!”

“Bleed blue!” the three UConn faithful chorus back as Sonia glumly saunters over to Maddy Westbeld who had come over with Jana, the two Fighting Irish alum sharing a commiserating hug. 

“This is why everyone finds you Huskies insufferable,” Maddy says with disgust. 

“Because we just keep winning? There, there little leprechauns,” Ice taunts, light-heartedly patting Maddy and Sonia’s heads as both of them bristle and flash the Wings forward with a synchronized middle finger, “I’m sure you’ll catch up to us never.”

Paige is about to join in on the ribbing when KK turns to Jana with a frown, “where’s Azzi? I thought all of y’all came together.”

She shouldn’t care this much anymore. It’s been five years and Paige thinks it’s a little ridiculous how quickly her ears perks up at the mention of her girlfriend, thinks it’s a little pathetic how she leans in closer to Jana, embarrassingly eager to hear the answer to KK’s question. 

“We did. She wanted to go call her parents to check on Stephie,” Jana explains. 

KK rolls her eyes, her face as disappointed as Paige feels, “of course she did.”

“What’s that supposed to mean,” Jana narrows her eyes at the shorter woman, a protective edge to her tone.  

“It means that this avoidance bullshit Azzi’s on is pretty fucking tired,” KK sneers. 

“KK bro chill,” Ice steps in immediately, looking worriedly between her two friends as Jana’s eyes flash with fire. 

“She’s checking on her daughter KK. She’s not trying to avoid anything,” Jana’s quietness is in stark contrast with the loud cheers around them and Paige swallows the guilt clawing at her throat. This is their fault. Her and Azzi’s. They’d caused an earthquake in their own lives and the aftershocks had rippled throughout their friends and families, creating rubble where there had once been solid foundations. 

KK laughs bitterly, “she had to check on her daughter right now? The game ended like three fucking seconds ago and she couldn’t just wait?”

“You’re being unfair.”

“Why are you always defending her?”

“Because she’s my teammate and it’s not all her fault,” Jana spits out, eyes briefly darting towards Paige who digs her fingernails into her palm, “it’s not her fault that she doesn’t always feel welcome around certain people.”

“And how about the rest of us people who’d really like to see her once in a while?” hurt tinges in KK’s words, “she can’t put the other shit aside for one fucking second?”

Jana opens her mouth, ready to defend her Azzi again but before she can speak, a calm voice cuts in, “hi guys.”

Goosebumps rush up Paige’s arms as she takes in the sight of the ex-girlfriend. There’s nothing extravagant to Azzi’s outfit, a simple UConn sweatshirt paired with black ripped jeans and minimal jewelry but she looks as radiant as always. There’s an awkward tension in the air as Azzi warily takes in the way KK and Jana are still glaring at each other. Her eyes accidentally lock with Paige and the blonde can see the same guilt of this is our collateral damage reflected back in those dark brown orbs. 

“Hi Azzi,” Ice is the first one to break the silence, wrapping the Valkyries shooting guard in a hug, “how’s Stephanie?”

Paige watches as Azzi’s eyes light up at the mention of her daughter's name, all of her previous apprehension gone as she begins to gush about the little girl, “she’s good. Somehow manipulated my dad into letting her stay up past her bedtime but good. She’s only two years old but already such a damn menace,” the brunette’s gaze wanders over to KK, “I guess that was to be expected huh? Any child of mine was bound to be one.”

KK cracks a half smile, bumping her shoulder against Jana’s as a truce sign, “you call it being menace, we call it being smart as hell right El Alfy?”

“Dude that’s what I tell her every time,” Jana immediately accepts the white flag, slinging an arm around the shorter woman, “Azzi just has genius children. Me, you, Nés and now Stephie.”

Ice gawks at the two of them, “seriously?”

“Well you see Ice, statistically she can’t have all genius children. Someone needed to be average,” KK mocks, high-fiving a giggling Jana. 

“Are y’all seeing this bullying?” Ice rounds on Paige and Azzi, hands on her hips with dramatically wide eyes, “are y’all really gonna let them bully your favorite child like this?”

“We don’t have favorites,” Paige and Azzi say at the same, pausing abruptly at the resurgence of familiar synchronicity between them. They glance briefly at each other, shuffling nervously, before immediately looking away. 

“I hate all of y’all,” Ice pouts, petulantly folding her arms against her chest. 

“Aw cheer up Icey,” Jana pats the top of Ice’s head, “how about a round of shots at the hotel bar to cheer you up?” she turns to Maddy and Sonia, who’d been having their own conversation, with a devilish grin, “losing team’s paying.”

“Y’all are sore winners,” Maddy huffs. 

Paige’s eyes dart towards Azzi, waiting for the younger woman to come up with a shallow excuse like she usually does to get out of having to spend more time with the blonde than necessary. And she knows that it’s unfair of her, knows that it’s only natural for someone to actively avoid being stuck in the same place as their past -thinks only a fool like her could want to be in their ex’s presence- but every time Azzi escapes being around her, Paige can’t help the disappointment that curls in her stomach. 

“Y’all coming,” KK asks, a slight edge to her voice as she twists to look at Paige and Azzi. 

“Of course,” Paige grins, locking arms with Sonia who immediately groans, “I’m not passing up free drinks. Especially not when the Irish are paying.”

“Az?” KK’s eyes are hopeful. 

Azzi bites her lip and Paige can almost see the cogs turning in her brain before she schools her features into a soft smile, “yeah. I’ll come.”

*** 

Paige isn’t sure how it happens. Well actually, that’s not quite right. She definitely has an idea of how it happened. She’s not quite sure when KK, Ice and Jana had had time to devise the plan but she’s certain that’s how it happened. Because really, there’s no other reasonable explanation for how she and Azzi have ended up being the only two people, from their previous party of seven, that are still sitting at the bar. Maddy and Sonia had left first, muttering under their breaths about not wanting to be around insufferable winners. Ice had been the next to leave, making up an excuse about how she wanted to call her boyfriend. Then Jana had apparently needed the bathroom. When she hadn’t returned in a solid 15 minutes, it was KK’s turn. A barely disguised grin and a hard-to-believe lie of  I think Jana got lost, I should go help her on her lips as she’d excused herself to the sound of Paige and Azzi’s protests. 

The two of them sit in awkward silence for a bit until Azzi suddenly bursts out laughing, the corner of her eyes crinkling. Paige regards her with amusement, trying to ignore the way the sound of the younger woman laughing feels like hearing her favorite song come on in the car on a warm summer road trip. 

“You’re a little young to be going crazy,” she remarks. 

“Shut up,” Azzi rolls her eyes, lightly punching Paige’s shoulder, “it’s just- they’re still all really shitty liars.”

Paige laughs, “and they still come up with the dumbest plans.”

“Do you remember when they locked us in the Werth changing rooms when we had that stupid fight-”

“Hey,” Paige interrupts indignantly, “it wasn’t stupid-”

“It was definitely stupid-”

“You asked Carol to drive you to rehab instead of me.”

“Because you had practice at the same time.”

“I wouldn’t have minded being five minutes late to practice.”

Azzi snorts, “more like half an hour and you sure as shit wouldn’t have been fine when coach would have yelled at you and made you run suicides after.”

“I wouldn’t have cared,” Paige shrugs, “running suicides would have been worth it for an extra hour with you.”

Azzi stares at her, mouth opening and closing several times before she finally looks away, a soft sigh falling from her lips, “you’re doing it again.”

“I’m not doing anything,” Paige says, unable to keep the defensiveness from creeping into her words. 

“You are,” Azzi slips off the barstool, “you are and you don’t even know it.”

“Azzi,” Paige curls her hand around the other woman’s bicep, pulling her in to stop her from leaving and it’s a bad idea because now they’re too close and her heartbeat quickens immediately at the fact that if she leaned in just a little bit more, there would be no more space left between them, “what am I doing?”

“You’re- you-” Azzi stutters, gulping as her eyes briefly flicker down to Paige’s lips, “you’re making me feel.”

“Making you feel what?” Paige presses. 

For a second, Paige thinks Azzi might just give in to her heart, might just tell the truth but then something hardens in her face, and the next word that slips out of her mouth has both of them going rigid, “how’s your wife Paige?”

“Az-”

“I should go to bed,” Azzi says firmly, trying to wriggle out of Paige’s tightening grip. 

“Azzi-”

“I have an early flight and I should probably wake up a little earlier than I normally would cause you know Jana’s gonna need me to wake her up,” Azzi rambles still trying to twist her arm out of Paige’s hold. 

“Hold on-”

“Can you just let go of me-”

“I’m trying to tell-”

“I really need to get to bed-’

“Az-”

“I have to go-”

“Azzi I’m getting a divorce,” Paige bursts out; the admission feels light a heavy weight off her chest.

Azzi stops fighting against the blonde’s grip, “oh.”

“We’ve- um-” Paige’s throat feels dry as Azzi’s eyes continue to bore into her, “we’ve been separated for a while and I finally-uh- finally filed the papers a little while ago. So um- to your question- I uh- I don’t know how she is because I- I don’t- there uh- there isn’t- there isn’t a wife.”

There’s silence for a bit as Azzi’s head bops up and down as she processes Paige’s revelation, “I’m um-” she clears her throat, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s not like it’s your fault,” and that’s not completely true -not when Olivia had repeatedly thrown the past back in Paige’s face- but she doesn’t think Azzi needs to know that, doesn’t want the younger woman to feel guilty for things beyond her control. She’s confused when Azzi flinches, like a memory has just pinched her nerves. 

“Right,” Azzi bites, “I really should- I really should be going to bed.”

Something gloomy settles across Paige’s heart as she nods at the brunette’s words, slipping out of her own chair as they start walking towards the elevator in the lobby. She feels antsy, like she’s leaving something incomplete. The silence rings loud between them as they wait for the elevator doors to open, keeping as much distance as they can from each other. It feels like ages before the familiar ding! finally rings out around them. Despite the abundance of room inside, the doorway into the elevator is rather condensed and their shoulders brush against each other as they make their way inside. Audible sighs involuntarily roll off of their tongues at the brief second of contact as they both shiver from each other’s familiar touch. There’s enough space now that they could easily move away -they probably should move away- but instead they stay pressed together. The sound of their uneven breathing fills the elevator as the doors close in front of them.

“I’m uh- I’m on the third floor,” Azzi says as she presses the #3 button, “you?”

“Fifth,” Paige breathes out, eyes fixated on the goosebumps that appear on the back of Azzi’s neck as her hands shake while pushing the #5 button. 

The elevator jolts up and Paige immediately reaches for Azzi’s hips to steady her, eliciting a small gasp from the other woman. She waits for Azzi to move away but the brunette stays put and Paige doesn’t move her hands. 

The doors open on the third floor. Both of them suck in a sharp breath. 

Azzi doesn’t get out. 

*** 

Paige wakes up to the dreadful sound of her alarm clock blaring around her room. It takes a second before the memories of last night start pounding against her skull. Her body aches in the best way possible. The room is still dark -just like it had been last night- and she closes her eyes, trying to revisit the feeling of Azzi’s lips pressed against her forehead, right before the younger woman -with her hair disheveled and bitemarks littered across her jawline-  had left Paige’s room. 

Paige hadn’t asked Azzi to stay. She wonders if she should have; wonders if Azzi would have agreed if she’d asked. But she hadn’t asked and Azzi hadn’t stayed. She regrets it a little bit. She wonders if Azzi does too. And Paige thinks that maybe that’s just the melancholic truth about their tragic story. 

Maybe they’re destined to always regret. 

*** 

April 2033

Paige thinks Azzi’s guest room air conditioning must be broken or something. There’s no other explanation for why, despite having kicked off every single blanket, she feels like she’s tossing and turning in red hot lava. She feels restless, like she has a purpose that she’s leaving unfulfilled. All the different scenes from tonight are rushing through her head, but her heart keeps stuttering on the last one; an image of the way Azzi had looked at her before they’d kissed good night. 

Azzi had asked her to stay even if she’d hidden it under a lame disguise of it being too late and Paige being too angry to drive home alone. And it’s not completely false that her blood is still boiling, their little encounter with fucking asshole still dangerously lingering in her mind as she thinks of the 101 ways she would have liked to murder him. But they both know that the minute Azzi had run her hand down Paige’s back, the moment she’d called her baby, the moment she’d given her the reassurance she was too scared to ask for but needed desperately, Paige had felt all the anger in her body replaced by that familiar sense of calm only Azzi had ever been able to provide. 

And after that had been decided, they’d both hesitated in the hallway, looking back and forth between Azzi’s master bedroom and the guestroom. Paige doesn’t know what had possessed her, why she’d decided tonight of all nights to play this false chivalrous rule-abiding good girl persona when it was the last thing she wanted to do. Because the last couple of weeks had been hell. The stupid rules had been hell. Going slow had been hell. Having to pull away from Azzi and walk out the door every night when all she wanted to was to lose herself in the brunette’s arms had been hell. But she’d done it for Azzi. She’d done it because there isn’t a thing in the world that she wouldn’t do for Azzi. Except tonight had been different. There had been that look on Azzi’s face -the way the younger woman had bitten her lips, the way her eyes had been hooded over, the way her cheeks had been flushed as her gaze roamed over Paige’s body- and  it had morphed into one of pure disappointment when Paige had said she’d take the guestroom. 

You’re a fucking idiot Paige Bueckers, she thinks to herself as she bolts right up, the image finally burning a little too bright behind her eyelids to continue this façade of trying to sleep. Perhaps it’s pointless. It’s late and Azzi loves her sleep; there’s no way she’s awake. But Paige slides out of bed anyways, breathing unevenly as she turns on the nightlight and walks towards her door. She doesn’t have a plan, doesn’t have any idea what she’d even say if Azzi is, by some miracle of god, even awake. But fuck it, Paige needs to see this through. She pauses at the door, hands wrapping around the cold handle as she gives herself one more chance to back out. Really, she doesn’t even know why she’s so nervous. It’s Azzi. Her Azzi. 

Paige twists the handle to tug the door open. 

Azzi’s eyes widen in surprise, her fisted hand -that had clearly been raised to knock on the mahogany door- freezing in place as she swallows and Paige is mesmerized by the way it highlights the veins in her neck. Her eyes move downwards, fixating on where Azzi’s oversized t-shirt hangs looser on one-side, leaving her right shoulder and collarbone on display. The shirt right above her thighs, giving Paige the perfect display of Azzi’s toned long legs looming beneath and the blonde gulps at the sight. 

“Hi,” Azzi speaks first, the low graveliness in her tone causing a coil of want to wrap itself around Paige’s stomach. 

“Hey,” Paige whispers back, “couldn’t sleep?”

Azzi bites her lip, “no- I just uh-, people always say- like when Jana sleeps over or something- she always says that- that the guest room is um- it’s too cold so I just- I wanted to make sure- wanted to ask-” she clears her throat, taking a step forward as she look earnestly at Paige, “are you cold?”

“So cold,” Paige confirms, moving closer to Azzi so their chests are almost touching. 

“You could um-” Azzi licks her teeth, “you could stay in Stephie’s room-” 

“I could?” Paige asks, pressing herself flush against the younger woman, hands wrapping around her waist. There’s barely space for air between them but she wants to get closer, wants to stitch herself into Azzi’s skin and keep them intertwined forever. 

“You could but,” Azzi’s hand trails Paige’s biceps, causing the blonde to shiver, before finally interlocking around her neck, “I think- I think her bed might be a little small for you.”

“Way too small,” Paige breathes against Azzi’s skin as she nips at the brunette’s jawline, before ghosting her lips against her neck, leaving a trail of mine mine mine down her throat.

“Paige,” Azzi’s voice is breathless as she tilts her head, hissing when Paige bites harshly right above her collarbone, immediately soothing it with her tongue, “I think- I think-fuck” she cuts herself with a moan as Paige turns them around, maneuvering them back towards the bed that suddenly looks far more inviting then it had before,  “I just think-”

“You think too much,” Paige says softly, finally removing her lips from Azzi’s skin -she misses the taste of it immediately- so she can smile teasingly at the brunette. 

“Do I?” Azzi grins dopily. 

Paige rolls her eyes, continuing to walk them backwards, “way, way too much.”

They’re forced to a halt when the back of Azzi’s thighs collide against the backframe of the bed. It feels like a turning point, like they could unlock a new chapter or keep themselves on the one they’re already on. And while Paige would really to skip forward, she’ll be okay with whatever happens next as long as the story being written is still theirs, still about her and Azzi. 

“Paige,” Azzi whispers again -and Paige loves the way Azzi’s lips curl around the syllable of her name- as she bunches the blonde’s shirt in her hands, “make me stop thinking.”

“Whatever you want baby,” Paige promises before they both go tumbling into the mattress, their lips colliding in a heated kiss. It feels like they’re trying to meld themselves into each other, like their bodies are carving out an indent of you and i just always feel right against the bedsheets. 

“I want this off,” Azzi breathes out between kisses, hands lifting the edge of Paige’s shirt, “off, off, off.”

“So bossy,” Paige smirks, leaning up off of Azzi to take off her shirt in a tantalizingly slow manner, enjoying the way the brunette’s eyes darken as they glide across her abs first and then her breasts, “enjoying the sho- fuck Az.”

The words are stolen from her mouth as Azzi swirls her tongue around one erect nipple, her hands cupping Paige’s ass to balance the blonde on top of her. She’s always known exactly how to get Paige to shut the fuck up. Paige groans as Azzi flips them over, shifting herself to press her thigh in between Paige’s legs and the blonde can’t help but grind up against it, desperate for some much needed friction, as Azzi sucks a possessive bruise against her jaw. 

“Missed this,” Azzi whispers, as she kisses down Paige’s neck, “and this,” a kiss pressed against her collarbone, “and these,” Azzi presses her lips softly to each breast, “and this,” against Paige’s stomach, “and these,” two featherlight kisses are peppered against her hip bones, “and I really missed these.”

“Azzi,” Paige moans as the brunette’s lips glide across the inside of her thighs, taking her sweet time marking only i could ever make you feel like this against every inch of Paige’s skin. 

Azzi stops right above the edge of Paige’s boxers before slowly peeling them off as sparkling brown eyes staring up at her with a myriad of unspoken emotions that Paige could spend a lifetime trying to memorize, “missed all of this. Missed everything about you. Missed you so much baby.”

Vulnerability echoes in Azzi’s voice as she slowly moves herself back up, hands coming to cup Paige’s face as they press their foreheads together. And it’s not like she hadn’t known that Azzi must have missed her in these last couple of years. But there’s a part of Paige that had thought that there was no way Azzi could have missed her as much as she missed Azzi. Because missing Azzi had felt all consuming, like there was a constant noose around her neck that got tighter and tighter with every day that passed by. But there’s something about the way the words reverberate around the room, something about the way Azzi looks like she can finally breathe again after saying it out loud that it hits Paige; it hits her that they’ve both been suffocating without each other. 

“I missed you too,” she breathes out, tears pooling at the edge of her eyes, “missed you so fucking much Azzi.”

“Yeah?” Azzi whispers, lips catching the lone tear that falls from Paige’s eyes, “how much?”

Paige shudders as Azzi’s fingers teasingly ghost over her wet folds, “s-so much. Azzi please. Need it so bad. Need you so bad.”

“Whatever you want baby,” Azzi repeats Paige’s own words back to her before she finally gives her what she’s desperately been craving, two fingers rhythmically pumping in and out of her pussy as her thumb rubs circles against Paige’s clit. 

“Fuck, fuck, just like that-” a litany of curses waterfall from Paige’s lips as she bucks her hips up against Azzi’s hand, “fuck please.”

“Please what?” Azzi asks coyly, fingers moving at a faster face as she hides a grin against Paige’s neck, “gotta tell me what you want baby.”

“W-want your mouth please- please Azzi-baby please,” Paige begs, writhing underneath her when Azzi immediately complies, lips attaching to her clit as she adds another finger, “fuck Azzi- I’m so close.”

“I know baby,” the words vibrate against Paige’s core, sending another bout of ecstasy shooting up her spine as she feels that familiar buildup in her stomach.

“Azz I’m gonna-”

“I know. Let go baby. I’ve got you. I’m gonna catch you I promise,” Azzi whispers. 

And it’s those words, that promise, that sends Paige over the edge, a cry of Azzi’s name falling from her lips. Because she knows Azzi means them for a lot more than just this moment, that those words -the promise- are born out of something deeper than lust. And maybe neither of them are quite ready to acknowledge that yet, not ready to make vows that teeter dangerously close to the ones they watched themselves break in the past, but it lingers between them, like a string made of we’ve always been inevitable connecting their hearts to each other. 

Azzi slowly eases her fingers out of Paige, pressing open-mouthed kisses against the older woman’s stomach as she recovers from her high, before looking up at her with a smirk. Never breaking eye contact, Azzi slips her fingers into her own mouth, leisurely sucking at them as she watches Paige’s face contort with desire. 

“Was I good?” she asks teasingly and Paige growls. 

“How have you gotten better at that? Actually you know what never mind,” Paige shakes her head, “I don’t want to know that.”

Azzi laughs, hiding her face against Paige’s neck, “only that good for you.”

“Good,” Paige tightens her arms around the woman on top of her and then scrunches her face as she feels the material of Azzi’s shirt itch against her wrists, “well this is unfair.”

“What is?” Azzi hum backs. 

“I’m fully fucking naked and you haven’t taken a single thing off,” Paige grumbles as she coaxes Azzi’s face out of her neck, hands gripping the edge of her shit, “take this off.”

Azzi stills, her previous serene expression replaced by something more nervous, as she lifts herself up so she’s straddling the older woman’s hips, “Paige-”

“What’s wrong?” Paige’s senses are on high alert immediately as she rises up herself, maneuvering them so Azzi’s fully on her lap. 

“I just-,” Azzi draws in a deep breath, looking downwards as she chews her lips.

“Hey,” Paige whispers, lifting the younger woman’s chin back up before pressing their foreheads together, “talk to me baby.”

“Can we just-” Azzi plays with the end of Paige’s hair, “can we maybe just-” she cocks her head towards the nightlight on the desk, “do you think we could turn the light off?”

“What?” Paige asks confusedly, “Azzi I’ve seen you naked-”

“Not since- not since I had Stephie,” Azzi interrupts, cowering under Paige’s intense stare, “the lights- the lights were off that one time and the other time I don't think- I don’t think we were sober enough for me to care or for you to remember so can we just-”

“Azzi,” Paige cups the younger woman’s face, “baby there is no amount of alcohol in the world that could make me forget you. Trust me I’ve tried,” she slips her hand under Azzi’s shirt, caressing the skin underneath, “but every time I see you baby, I memorize every little part of you,” she dances her fingertips across where she remembers those stretch marks -the ones Azzi is so afraid of her seeing again- are littered across her stomach, “and whether I’m sober or drunk or something in between, I always think every little bit of you is perfect.”

“Paige,” Azzi says softly, something akin to awe coating her voice. 

“Just wanna make you feel as good as you made me feel baby. Please,” Paige wraps her fingers around the edge of Azzi’s shirt again, “can I?”

“Okay,” Azzi concedes quietly, lifting her arms so Paige can finally tug the offending shirt off. 

Paige gives herself a moment to look at the woman in front of her, the woman whose body she’s seen countless times yet she swears that it feels like a different adventure every time. And then she lets herself have a taste, running her tongue lazily across Azzi’s skin, as she slowly maneuvers them so she can hover above the younger woman. A soft smile flitter across her face as she rubs her fingers over the tattoo printed across Azzi’s ribcage. It’s a purple S tattoo, with butterfly wings fanning out on either side. For Stephie. 

Keeping her eyes trained on the darker-skinned , she brushes her lips across the stretch marks on the darker-skinned woman’s abdomen and she hopes that Azzi can read the all of your imperfections are still made for me that Paige is spelling out against her skin. She uses her teeth to pull down Azzi’s panties, smirking to herself when she hears the younger woman's breath hitch above her. Eyes still interlocked with Azzi’s, Paige is purposefully slow as she licks a stripe up Azzi’s folds, relishing the way the other woman’s eyes roll back into her head. 

“So fucking wet,” she hums, “all for me?”

“You know-” Azzi shudders when Paige’s lips brush against her clit, still teasing, “you know it is.”

Paige smirks, “only for me.”

“Please,” Azzi begs as Paige continues to lazily lap at her pussy, giving her something but not quite enough. 

“Say it,” Paige demands, harshly biting against Azzi’s inner thigh as she brings up a hand to rub infinity signs around Azzi’s clit, “say it’s only for me.”

“It’s only for you-” Azzi cuts herself off with a scream as Paige plunges her tongue deep inside her, setting a tempo she knows will have Azzi seeing stars. 

“Doing so good for me baby,” Paige coos as she adds two fingers with her tongue, “always so good for me.”

“Fuck,” Azzi fists the bedsheets, trying to gain some semblance of control as she writhes under Paige’s touch, “feels so good. Paige please.”

“I know,” Paige whispers, “I know what you need baby.”

And that’s the thing about them. That’s why it’s good every single time. Because Paige knows every little crevice of Azzi’s body like it’s her own, knows exactly where to touch and how to touch to elicit those little gasps of pleasure that she wishes she could record and listen to on loop. And it doesn’t matter how long they go without each other in between, coming back always feels like home. But as much as she loves the feeling of coming back, Paige never wants to feel it again. Because this time, she hopes there is no in between without each other. She hopes that this time, they both stay. 

“Paige,” Azzi moans again, her name falling from her mouth like a prayer. 

“I’ve got you,” Paige whispers, capturing Azzi’s lips with her own as she continues her ministrations with her hand, “fall apart for me baby. I swear I’ll put you back together.”

There’s nothing quite like watching Azzi come undone and Paige drinks in the sight of the other woman quivering as she grabs the blonde’s bicep so tight that it’s bound to leave a victory mark. Paige coaxes her through it, nibbling at Azzi’s jawline as the younger woman slowly climbs down from her peak, going limp in Paige’s arms. 

They’re quiet for a while, languorously pressing delicate kisses against each other's skin, soft hands exploring all over each other’s familiar bodies as they tangle their legs together; close not being close enough. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Paige whines when Azzi starts to move out of her grasp. 

“I got what I came for,” Azzi teases, “so I’m going back to my own bed.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Paige scowls, pulling the younger woman back into her chest. 

Azzi laughs, kissing away Paige’s pout as she wriggles out of her grip and slips out of the bed, “relax. I’m just getting something to clean us up with.”

“Well hurry up. I’m already cold,” Paige mewls before letting out a wolf-whistle as her eyes drift over Azzi’s naked retreating form, appreciating the tautness of the brunette’s back muscles down to her perfectly curved ass. 

“You’re 31 years old Paige Bueckers,” Azzi chides as she walks into the ensuite bathroom but Paige can hear the blush in her voice. 

“And you’re hot as fuck Azzi Fudd,” Paige calls out with a smirk, keeping the and you’re all mine as a secret in her own thoughts. 

“You’re not bad yourself Bueckers,” Azzi returns from the bathroom with a smile and a damp cloth as she hops back onto the bed, gently dabbing it between Paige’s thighs. 

It’s a simple act but Paige feels tears prickle at the corner of the eyes. Because it signifies so much more than just this moment. For most of her life, Paige had grown accustomed to the idea that no one would take care of her unless she took care of them first. She didn't know it was possible that someone could reach out first, that they could hold her first without any expectation of anything else in return. Until Azzi. 

“Baby?” Azzi’s voice is wrapped in concern as she takes notice of Paige’s tears, immediately rising up to brush them away, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing I just-” Paige loops her arms around Azzi’s neck, shuddering slightly at how earnest the younger woman’s face is, “I really fucking missed you.”

Azzi’s eyes soften as she caresses Paige’s cheek before pressing her lips against her forehead, “I really fucking missed you too.”

***

Paige’s eyes flutter awake to sunlight peeking through the blue curtains of Azzi’s guest bedroom. She groans, shifting to bury her face further into the brunette’s stomach, pinching it when Azzi laughs above her. Lifting her head slightly, Paige can’t help but smile at the woman above her. Azzi’s got her glasses on, a book in her hands as she peers down at Paige with nothing but pure fondness. Something aches in Paige’s chest as countless visions of mornings just like this fill her head. She’d resigned herself to believing that she’d never get this back again, that she’d have to rely on memories of the past to fill the empty void that rattled hollowly against her chest every time she’d woken up without Azzi by her side. 

“Morning sleepy head,” Azzi says softly, putting her book down to brush her fingers through Paige’s hair, “assuming you slept well considering you didn’t even notice when I left to grab my glasses and a book from my room.”

Paige frowns, “you left me?”

“I was bored,” Azzi defends herself, “you were fast asleep and I had nothing to occupy myself with.”

“I can believe you left me,” Paige petulantly accuses again. 

“I didn’t leave-”

“You left me!”

“Okay fine,” Azzi concedes with an eyeroll, “but I came back.”

“Yeah you did,” a soft smile takes over Paige’s features as she leans up to brush her lips against Azzi’s, “you came back.”

“I did,” Azzi whispers against Paige’s mouth, cupping the older woman’s face with her hands. 

Paige is about to deepen the kiss, her hands beginning to slip lower, when the sound of a doorbell ruins any chances of putting in motion any of the uncordial ideas that had taken birth in her mind. She groans as Azzi immediately pulls away.

“Shit, I didn’t realize they’d be here so early.” the younger woman curses, hurriedly tossing Paige’s discarded clothes at her, “here, put your clothes on. I’ll go down first while you change.”

“I- I can come down?” Paige asks slowly. 

Azzi crinkles her eyes in confusion, “what do you mean? What else would you do?”

“I just. I dunno-” Paige shrugs, “I just assumed you uh- you wouldn’t want Stephie to know I stayed the night. I figured I’d sneak out of the window or something.”

“Paige,” Azzi whispers, walking over to grip the older girl’s hands, “you’re not- you’re not my dirty little secret or anything. I’m not- I’m not quite ready to tell Stephie about us- hell I’m not even really sure what we are yet but I know- I know that I don’t want to hide you from her. Besides,” she nudges Paige humorously, “we’re on the 2nd floor babe. I don’t need you trying to climb out the window and breaking your knee before the season even starts.”

Paige watches quietly as Azzi walks out the door. She doesn’t think the younger woman quite understands how much she had needed to hear those words, how much she had needed to not feel like a secret again. It fills Paige with a sense of hope, hope that maybe things would be different this time. Maybe things would be better this time. 

*** 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie squeals from Azzi’s arms as she spots Paige descending down the stairs, “you’re already here!”

Paige smiles at the little girl, tapping her nose over Azzi’s shoulder, “I promised you I’d be here bright and early didn’t I?”

“Very bright and early,” Katie cocks an eyebrow as she smirks at Paige and Azzi, “how did you get here so early Paige?”

“Don’t be silly Nanna. She drove of course,” Stephie says matter-of-factly before scrunching up her nose, “but Miss Buecks. How come your car isn’t outside then?”

“That’s a great question Stephie,” Katie says and Paige thinks the woman’s a little bit too peppy for a grandmother, “why isn’t your car outside Paige?”

“Because-” Azzi gives her mother an exasperated look before fixing her eyes on her daughter, “because Paige slept over last night.”

“Miss Buecks slept over last night?” Stephie repeats. 

“I did,” Paige confirms, glaring at Katie as she snickers in the corner. 

“Mama can you please put me down,” Stephie says finally. 

The little girl looks upset and Paige feels her heart constrict with fear. In general, she doesn’t really do well with people being mad at her. But she definitely doesn't think she can take Stephie of all people being mad at her. The little girl has chiseled herself into Paige’s heart and if she ever left, Paige thinks she’d leave a hole so big, her entire heart would cease working. 

Azzi shares a nervous look with Paige as she sets her daughter down before crouching down to Stephie’s level, “what’s wrong Stephie-bean?”

Stephie’s bottom lip trembles as she looks between her mother and Paige, “you let Miss Buecks sleepover.”

“I-” Azzi looks helplessly between her own mother and Paige, both of whom look just as tense, “I did but sweetheart why is that upsetting you? You like Miss Buecks.”

“I love Miss Buecks,” Stephie wails and Paige lets out a sigh of relief, the little girl's words wrapping themselves around her like a warm blanket. 

Azzi blanches for a second, “I don’t understand then what’s the problem-”

 “YOU GUYS HAD A SLEEPOVER WITHOUT ME,” Stephie yells, stomping her tiny feet.  

Oh. 

“Stephie-” Azzi says softly, unable to keep the smile off of her face. 

“I can’t believe you’d do this to me Mama,” Stephie sniffs as she turns to Paige with a betrayed expression, “and you Miss Buecks. How could you guys have a sleepover without me?”

“Oh sweetheart,” Paige falls to her knees beside Azzi, trying not to smile when Stephie dramatically turns her face away from them, “we didn’t mean to. It was just really late when we got back from the party-”

“The party,” Stephie cries out, “first you went to a party without me and then you had a sleepover without me. I can’t bel-ieve you guys would do that to me. Don’t you guys love me at all?”

“We’re really sorry Stephie,” Paige says as seriously as she can, reaching out to fold Stephie’s tiny hands into her much larger one. 

“Very, very, sorry,” Azzi echoes. 

“I don’t know,” Katie supplies unhelpfully from where she’s watching the whole situation with pure amusement, “they don’t seem that sorry Stephie.”

“Mom!” “Katie!”

Katie raises her hands in mock surrender as both Paige and Azzi glare at her, “just looking out for my granddaughter’s best interest.”

“Stephie-bean,” Paige says again, maneuvering the little girl’s body to face her, “your Mama and I are very, very, sorry for having a sleepover without you. Please forgive us.”

Stephie looks at the adults kneeling in front of her with a contemplative expression, “you promise you’ll never do it again?”

“Never,” Azzi promises as Paige nods along.

“And when we go to the park today I can get three scoops of ice cream?” the little girl asks, the hint of a smile starting to breakthrough her lips. 

“I don’t know about that one sweetheart. That’s a lot of ice-”

“Of course you can!”

“Paige!” Azzi hisses. 

“And you’ll push me on the swing at the park for twenty minutes?”

“I’ll even push you for thirty minutes if you want,” Paige says and Azzi rolls her eyes. 

“Just had to one-up it didn’t you Bueckers,” she mutters under her breath. 

“And even though Miss Buecks said she’d get me fries at the park, I can get In-N-Out for dinner too?”

“You’re pushing it Stephie-bean-”

“In-N-Out for dinner sounds perfect,” Paige winks at Stephie as a full smile finally overtakes the little girl’s face. 

“You’re hopeless,” Azzi chides the blonde, throwing her hands up exasperatedly but there’s no denying the grin on her face as she looks back at Stephie, “is that all your highness? Are we finally forgiven or did you want to ask us for more unhealthy things?”

“Just one more thing,” Stephie’s eyes twinkle with mischief, “Miss Buecks has to sleepover tonight too.”

Paige and Azzi share a toothy smile with each other before turning to the little girl. 

“I think that could be arranged.”

The words are barely out of Paige’s mouth before Stephie goes tumbling into her and Azzi, tiny arms somehow wrapping around both of their necks as she pulls them into a group hug. The two adults laugh, cocooning the little girl in between them as she rambles on about how excited she is.  And Paige thinks that when all is said and done, when she looks back on her life, she’ll remember this moment as the one where everything started to finally come together. Right now, with Stephie's arms wrapped around her neck and Azzi’s hands curling around the little girl’s back to intertwine their fingers together, this moment here feels perfect. This moment feels like it belongs to Paige.