#and they have a kid together. why? i think you can figure it out

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[12:17 pm]

(cw: wife!reader)

With yours and CEO!Johnny's schedules, it could be pretty hard to match up your schedules for small moments together. Sure, there were your nights spent together, the slow mornings, sporadic calls during the day. It was a schedule you'd both gotten used to and didn't complain about simply because you both knew that there were periods of time that could be worse. Like when Johnny had to go on trips to other countries, when either of you had long meetings, conferences that took you away from home.

All that to say, when one of you had unexpected free time, you were spending it with each other. That's why you were happily walking across his office with a bag of food in your hands and a happy smile on your face. You waved at his employees as you walked across the floor, smiling and asking how they were, how their kids were, and how Johnny was treating them.

You stopped in front of his secretary's desk, "Hi, how are you? Johnny has his lunch hour free today, right?"

His secretary smiles up at you, looking at the calendar on her computer before her eyes find yours once again, "always nice to see you Mrs. Suh. Yes, John has about an hour and a half free, two hours but you know he has me schedule his itinerary down to the minute. He'll be very happy to see you. He doesn't tell me a whole lot, but I can tell when he misses you. Enjoy your lunch."

You smile sweetly at her, making a mental note to make sure she gets a very good Christmas gift from your husband. You knock on his office door, peeking your head in with a cheeky smile, "Mr. Suh, your lunch meeting is here."

"Lunch meeting? I didn't see that on my calen-" Johnny starts to say before his eyes finally fall on you. His shoulders relax at the same time his gaze softens at the mere sight of you, "my love. This is the best surprise ever. What are you doing here? I thought you had a conference."

You close the door behind you meeting him half way with a kiss on the lips and a smile, "it was a networking brunch. I'm free for the rest of the day, so I figured there was no better way to spend my time than lunch with my wonderful husband."

"Well, I'm just the luckiest guy alive, aren't I?" He smiles as he takes the bag of food from your hand.

You both settle onto the leather couch of his office as you both begin to open up the containers of food from one of your favorite, g to, restaurants. Johnny stares at the food hungrily, "I didn't even realize how hungry I was. Thank you, my love."

"Good think your wife knows you better than you know yourself, huh?" You wink, kicking off your heels before grabbing your salad off the table and getting comfortable on the couch.

While you both eat, you make small talk. You tell Johnny about your event, he tells you about his day, and the frustrating call he'd started his day with. He sips his drink slowly, his eyes find yours and then he asks, "you used my card for lunch, right?"

Your eyes glint with mischief, "...no."

"My love!" Johnny cries out, dragging his free hand down his face, "how many times do I have to tell you to not spend your money? You don't use your money for anything, alright? You use my money— our money for everything. Got it?"

You laugh, setting your own food aside as you crawl across the couch and cup his face in your hands. The wedding rings on your finger feels cool against his skin as he stares into your eyes. You lean in, pressing your forehead against his own, "if you'd have let your wife finish... I'd have told you that I used the cash you snuck into my purse this morning. Happy?"

He smacks a quick kiss against your lips, "very happy. I could never be anything but happy with you."

[werezmastarbucks]

f!8th member x yoongi timeline: bulletpoints pt1

protective!bts, brothers!bts. feral, bold! emotional!reader

wc: 5115

part two

part three

routine and relationship dynamic description. very gradual, turned out long. mentions of the harsh idol life, harassment, hints at sexual advances; jaded view of idol life. 8th member might be a tired concept but guys i haven't been here back in January so i am tapping into eve-ry-thing

you are added to the group the last

it's a controversial experiment for Big Hit. debuting a boy band with exactly one female member. they do not hold their breath: they believe in the failure. nobody expects BTS to actually succeed.

as the decision to add a girl is made much later, they are faced with the question whether to change the name of the band from "bulletproof boys" to "bulletproof youth". and they decide against it because of how little they care about the whole group

the bangtan trainees mostly oppose the idea, not only because it's a late addition, but also because it's a girl

they are told that they have to go on living all together, but with a girl. train as usual, but with a girl. share food and allowance, but with a girl

"that wasn't in the contract" - "none of this was in the contract"

the boys are terrified thinking of how this is going to shift things completely

Yoongi is one of the most opposing members, bringing up good points and complaining about it, but there's not much he can do.

a couple of days before you arrive the boys have a meeting with the management. they are told that the girl (you) is coming and there's one rule

no hookups or relationships. it should be clean, friendly and disciplined. if there's even a whiff of anything similar to attraction or flirting, or drama, the member caught is out without the second warning

at the time the members do not see it as a problem, in fact, they do not even consider it a danger because of how preoccupied they are. they don't want to mess with anybody; they don't want anybody

actually they mostly see you as an enemy and an obstacle because they believe you will be a bad addition. nobody's even thinking about the funny stuff; they are cautious, unsure and reserved

when you arrive, you try to be cool and calm, and they try to be polite and non-hostile

the first person you notice is Namjoon: he is going to be your roommate, your companion and most likely your best friend (you couldn't be further from the truth: they will all become your friends soon)

you speak good English, so Namjoon is naturally drawn to you and you click in spite of his initial unwillingness. "hey, that might actually work..."

first impressions:

Namjoon: mature, normal guy, too burdened by his leader role, super focused, kind, helpful. will not make you uncomfortable even if he tries. feels like he is already your friend. you are born in the same year, several months apart, the same zodiac, the same introversion deep down under ambiversion.

Hoseok: painfully shy, glaring at you curiously from a distance. you can see instantly that a smile is his natural reaction to everything, and you actually flinch when the teacher snarls at him, and he smiles. this is the first of many times you get an urge to protect. he seems kinda small, fragile, and only relaxes when he is dancing or sleeping

Jimin: seems like a menace. his smile is too oily, and yet he shifts from being flirty to completely closed down. he seems like somebody you want to know better because at first you can't figure out his role in the group: is he the main dancer or the vocal? or the visual?

Jungkook: b a b y. you drop one look at him and, even though he is already your height, you get motivated to stand on his side. his round cheeks and still childish eyes make you question why the hell the company would hire such small kids. he is already sixteen, but he feels younger, he is super sweet and you do not feel threatened at all

Yoongi: the quiet ghost in the corner of the room giving you contemplating, evil looks. sharp jaw and the eyes that are too expressive. however, once he opens his mouth, he turns out to be polite and balanced. he gives you the trustworthy quiet helper vibe. it feels like acting on camera during making the content drains the energy from him

Jin: sage. he is so tall and adult that you unintentionally keep your back more straight in his presence. you passionately want to earn his respect because you see how he is soft and helpful with the guys but cautious with you. to you, he shows his colder side, and it kicks in the natural instinct of winning him over

Taehyung: soulmate. you click immediately. you joke at the same time, then start laughing, and your laughing voices harmonize, and you look at each other surprised. at the very beginning, he is on par with Namjoon the closest person who provides the initial comfort in a highly uncomfortable situation

you look at them seven and the hammer strikes. if you can't match them, you must at least do everything not to hold them back as a team. they are already familiar with each other, and now your job is to force them to accept you and see you as equal. it's going to be brutal

the first genuine contact:

you help Jungkook with his English homework. and by helping, you mean do it for him. he sits next to you at the desk, clicking the pen on it, while you write and try explaining things to him simultaneously

the first week you feel super lonely in the dorm because you and the SEVEN BOYS you live with walk around each other like wild animals, sniffing. all interactions are awkward: reaching for something in the cupboard at the same time and flinching like the hands touching is the worst thing that's happened in the last hundred years

blushing when you meet each other in the vicinity of the bathroom

you don't even pee when someone is nearby

you have a lot of stuff and sometimes it gets mixed up with the boys' things, and they get confused whose towel or shirt it is

the first week, in fact, is wildly stressful, because it's like jumping into ice-cold water while surrounded by sharks who don't bite but give you weird, awkward side eyes. Namjoon is too nerdy to provide insightful comfort, and Taehyung gets flustered in others' presence so he starts saying stupid shit

however the ice starts melting when you find Jungkook sobbing at that tiny desk punctured in between the clothes rack and the dinner table

it's about homework, but also his leg hurts, but also he misses his mum, and he is behind on his studies, and his voice isn't working properly

he's telling you all this with his head turned around, red like an apple, and you open up and decide that you aren't going anywhere anyway, and these boys aren't either

you hold him the way only a woman can hold a child. the other boys take really good care of Jungkook: he is fed, dressed, he is mostly comfortable and generally happy all the time. but the friendly and protective touch of a woman's hand makes sixteen-yeard old Jungkook break down and cry on your shoulder, while you stroke his head and tell him that he is safe

you try to make it very clear that he is safe with you and you won't tell anybody. try to tell him that getting tired is fine and the best thing he can do is break down when he feels like it

Yoongi witnesses the end of it, when Jungkook is already wiping his nose, and your hand is still on his head, stroking him like a kitten

this incident facilitates the eventual onset of closeness

suppose Yoongi clocks a certain feature in you, that he himself also has: the impulse to protect and comfort, and it makes him a little relieved

the hyung line starts taking care of you subtly: first of all, the boys get rid of the habit of avoiding eye contact. then you start smiling at each other.

a week later you have a collective conversation in the kitchen at night, warming up to each other

who initially has a crush on you

everybody

for most of them (6/7) it's short, the shortest for Namjoon because you're not his type. instead, he amalgamates into the older brother persona with quite a lot of satisfaction about it. he already has a younger sister and has experience, he is familiar with the problems that arise with having one, and sees that you need him in that way

Jimin drops it when he sees you aren't the ideal girl he has been picturing you as. as he knows you more, his infatuation dissipates into respect and reliability. he relies on you in many things because he has that childish persona and really likes to be taken care of. he actually exploits this quality of yours a little bit, seeing that, in the impulse to be perceived as good, you go out of your way to help them

Taehyung isn't even sure if he had a crush on you, he hadn't noticed. he just knows you're cool and he was the one who opposed the girl member addition the least of them all. he was never fully against it

Jungkook has a crush on you in a surprisingly innocent way even though he is almost an adult. he knows it's more of an awe because he just imprinted slightly when you love-bombed him in the very beginning. he grows fiercely protective of you and is the first of all the boys to start calling you sister

Hoseok's crush dies quietly when he reminds himself of the rule that management enforced on them. he understands why it's there and totally agrees with it. he is an incredibly focused and motivated person, so he takes a second look at you, and goes, no, and switches it off for good. he is cautious and quiet around you, and for the longest time you feel like a wild nature photographer that is chilling on the ground, waiting until the antelope loses alert

Jin's crush was more out of curiosity and the whiplash of change. it doesn't last and wouldn't have even if all of a sudden you told him you liked him. instead, he gains respect for you when he sees your striving to work as much as they do and even more. Jin ends up being the most perceptive protector of yours, who clocks your exhaustion first. he approaches you very soon into the shared living and working, and tells you not to run too fast, or you'll burn out

Yoongi doesn't do anything about his crush and isn't alarmed when it doesn't cease. he thinks it's irrelevant. two things are unchangeable: you are not going away. and second: you are off limits. coexisting with his liking of you is easy because he sees you literally every waking minute

actually for the longest time he believes that all the other members are in love with you and it's a norm, and is very surprised when they talk about it and say, uh, no, not really

then he's like, uh oh. while Hoseok's crush floats up and bursts like a bubble, Yoongi's feeling suddenly sinks down and cements itself somewhere deep

you don't call the older ones oppas: you absorb their habit and call them hyungs

the first year together:

you debut all together, after some time during which you grow close and start trusting each other. the first year is tough because it's still friction. would've been much easier if you were a boy, of course.

there are inconveniences, awkwardness and surprises in every aspect of your lives

they need to adjust choreo for you because it needs to reflect on the female presence and make it your collective IT factor

the boys need to kiss all their previous concepts goodbye: that they will be a boy band; that they will all be equal (now there's this 'we have a special factor' dynamic); that they will do exactly what they were promised; that they can fart into each other's faces in the morning as a method of waking up those who don't hear the alarm clock

for some reason they cannot see themselves farting into your face

you prove to become spicy if tackled.

people aren't having it at all. BTS are bullied, ridiculed, ignored and talked down to all the time

the boys gather around Jungkook and focus on the work, trying to ignore the negativity

they are surprised when they find out yet another feature of yours

you laugh off the hate towards you, which you get a lot, but become feral when someone insults them

you hesitate whether to accept me? well, tough luck, i accepted you

because you told yourself "we are stuck together, so I'll better make the most of it" and now you live by this

you feel so lonely; the only girl, the weakest one, the shortest one, different dancing style, different voice, different rhythm, different low points. in order to survive this loneliness, you shut your feelings off and concentrate on getting them on your side

also, that one time you comforted Jungkook gave you an idea that boys are just that - boys, and not stone-cold machines, and might even react positively to your friendly attitude

long story short, you start releasing your tension out on people who dare to insult them

you lash out at radio hosts who speak to them in a condescending way

"you think you guys can be rappers?" "they already are. care to explain your problem with it?"

you bite back at the people who don't believe in them and ridicule them: "let's take it outside? or you just gonna pick on an eighteen year old boy?"

"so, how's that Korean rap boy band going?" - "it's going super well, and not sideways, but your jaw will"

a couple of times the hyung line has to restrict you physically

Seokjin realizes these reactions may be a problem

Namjoon indulges your temper because for the first time, he is partially relieved of his weight. he isn't the only one who speaks English; he isn't the only one who is in the avant-garde

Yoongi sees through your anger and the short fuse and is like, oh shit. she is going to snap sooner or later. he understands this aggression is a response to the tension this work puts on you

he starts taking care of you little by little, like a doctor, but not medically

he does it humanly. a coffee. brings you the hoodie you'd forgotten at the studio. surrenders the window seat to you. pushes you behind when the reporters or staff are male and look at you for too long

you start associating Yoongi with safety

there's a talk about you having to visit a certain hotel to meet a certain "business partner", and before you can respond, the boys go "no" in unison

you realize, even if you aren't all best pals yet, and you've only been with them for six months, and debuted like two months ago, they will protect you at least on the very basic level

it finally kills your stress-induced insomnia

you start feeling like a team

you harmonize the best with Jimin and Taehyung

you start training even more, running yourself into the ground, to prove to them that you have earned your spot here; that they won't regret standing up for you; that they won't have to pull their punches because you're a girl

exhaustion blackouts for which you feel very guilty

your periods sometimes don't come for months because of the stress

you have a specific conversation between the eight of you, where you discuss the situation the company put you in. it was an experiment. it also felt like they were setting you up for failure from the beginning. trying to clash you and them. inconveniencing them by bringing a girl. antagonizing you.

you all look at each other and decide to succeed in spite of the company

from then on, you begin to intentionally learn to live together

"good morning", "how are you?" "did you sleep well?" "let's do it" "you go first please" "you did great". positive sabotage

they start saying "pads" without fainting. start living with the idea that the shower cabin where they stand naked, is the same spot where you also stand naked

they become more okay with touching you when it's not during the training and not a part of choreo

hugs

they do not let you do the dishes or clean the bathroom. for the whole first year you do not do either of those things; they take turns instead of you

how they deal with your stress:

Jungkook is the sweetest and is direct. "What can I do? Why are you crying?" and you cry A LOT. after some time, you stop hiding when you feel like crying, and stop feeling guilty when you get injured. there's no way to escape them anyway. there's SEVEN of them. at any given point of time, you're bound to be walked in on by a member.

Jin talks to you like a wise elder, providing practical advice

Jimin is the fairy that flaps around and tries to distract you or make you laugh so that you stop crying

Taehyung cries with you and offers his shoulder. he is the first who invents the lifehack: how to stop Y/N from crying. he begins sharing his own troubles, and you switch immediately and forget about yours

Hoseok tries to make himself scarce, hoping that someone else will handle you. when there's no other choice, he just sits next to you quietly, horrified

Yoongi provides efficient physical comfort; when there are other people around while you're in tears, he pulls the hood onto your head; if it's due to an injury, he caters to it; if it's just stress and loneliness, he elects to call Jungkook or Namjoon because he himself avoids hugging you

and it's not even embarrassment (sometimes he is so tired that he doesn't even get a boner); he is just distant like that

Namjoon = bear hugs. he is the authentic older brother who lets you cry on his chest

Yoongi is the only one who isn't affected by your rage. when you snap, whether it's at a person, or at an object that inconvenienced you, he doesn't get scared like the others. he is the mediator who pulls you away or picks the broken parts of a chair, and his silent courtesy makes you feel very guilty for the outbursts

his gentle acceptance of your character is the factor that pushes you to practice better control of your emotions

Seokjin also tells you that it's super nice that you are ready to murder people to protect the boys, but it has to stop, because it only creates more trouble

you become known as, at best, the wild card of the band

at worst, you're the attention seeker

in truth, you are in the inherently losing position. no matter what you do, you will be the scapegoat and the target. a girl in a boy group

as the fandom gradually grows, many of the fans see you as the red cloth. if you're quiet, you're boring. if you're loud, you're trying to get attention. if you're smart, you're a know-it-all. if you act silly, you're flirting with your mates. you're ugly. you're too pretty. you're fat. you're too thin. you dance too girly. you sing too high. you eat too funny. you speak too loud. you sleep wrong.

the boys gradually understand that this is your designated spot, and this is the weight you take upon yourself. as they get familiarized with the public and how it perceives you, their love for you grows

what unites you with each of them:

Namjoon: shares everything with you. you are the two smart ones who speak good English. you are also roommates and he is the last person you see before you go to sleep

Seokjin: at the moments of lethal social exhaustion, when you are both drained to zero, you sit in the kitchen with glassy eyes and chew on cornflakes straight out of the pack, without speaking. you are the only one who understands the visceral hatred for people he sometimes has; you recharge off of each other a little

Jimin: similar voices. you are paired for the performances often; and your roles are playful mates. you joke a lot together. with time, you start mimicking his uninhibited charisma, and he starts mimicking your dry, zero-bullshit snappy attitude

Taehyung: he feels like a soulmate. you like the same movies, the same books. he has impressive emotional vulnerability coupled with purely artistic selfishness, and you instinctively want to keep it alive in him. he appreaciates your attention and the fact that you forgive him for anything he does. he feels you treat him like a piece of art

Jungkook: becomes loyal to you. where you go, he goes. what you eat, he wants a bite of. when you fall down, he is on the spot in a flash, picking you up. when you're sick, he is the first to puff his chest and argue with the management to get you at least one day off

Hoseok: for the longest time, you just coexist together, trying to find common things. until you catch him in the kitchen one night, watching youtube and sobbing. he has soft, vulnerable darkness to him. you don't dare to wrap your arms around him like you do with Jungkook as he guards his personal space. the thing that unites you is the mutual respect of people who start growing similar habits. you start eating at the same time. you have similar headaches and both become sadder in November.

Yoongi: is a mystery to you. he is like the mountain that provides you haven when you need it. he has that dry laughter that betrays his maturity. he is ready to give you the shirt off his back, but doesn't let you in. he'll be like, eat my portion and go away ok? you both like your alone time and often prefer to stay in the dorm during the free hours, so you end up in the different corners of the rooms. clashing in the kitchen. you develop huge respect for him because you write a lot of lyrics, and he writes music. you think you should bond about it. Yoongi really starts looking you in the eye after you begin bringing your prose to him, asking to take a look

how you inconvenience them:

the thing that irritates them the most is crying. each member reacts differently to it: Hobi and Seokjin are almost openly annoyed when they realize that you cry too often. Jungkook is always wounded by it. Namjoon isn't very annoyed, neither is Taehyung. Taehuyng also cries often, so he isn't affected by it. Yoongi is always trying to get to the root of the problem. studies your reactions like a scientist. he is the first one to clock your heightened emotional reactivity. he tells the others about it and they ask well, how do we cure it. Yoongi laughs and says, we don't. we deal with it

you are a little messy and even though you work on it, sometimes the natural forgetfulness makes you leave things untidy or your things scattered. Hoseok and Jin are usually the ones to yell about it

loud singing in the shower. you and Namjoon are the main perpetrators

"you are supposed to be the vocalist, not the dying alpaca"

you get stress-induced insomnia and sometimes wander around at night. the only one who isn't mad about it is Yoongi because he works at nights

you get periods (when you do). sometimes you get tired more than them. you are physically weaker, and no matter what you do, or how much you strain yourself, you will never have their stamina. they never show it, but you know they do not run as fast as they could have without you, and it actually becomes a very, very deep sore in you and creates this sort of trauma and complex in you. coupled with the public reactions, it cements the perception of yourself: you're the weak point of the band. the members don't think that. in the second year they realize the concept grows on them. they stand out among mono-gender groups. they are easily recognizable. they have a draw of male fans because of you. in a twist of irony, the more they like your presence, the less you like it.

sooner rather than later you decide to make them get used to your body. you are, after all, bound to get revealing outfits for performances, as well. in the dorm, when it's hot, you walk around in shorts. you don't hide. sometimes you might walk around in the towel after the shower, looking for something. they know they need to get accustomed to it

hair everywhere

the female energy. you chat during breakfast. yelp about things. nag to keep the movie on and not switch the channel

low pain limit

they sometimes fight about 'spoiling you'. "you only bought this xyz food because you know Y/N likes it. but we are all going to eat it!"

trying not to exploit their natural male impulses to give in to you. if they want to ride bikes along the river, and you want to go to the park, they are inclined to go to the park. you start demanding they do what they want

trying to kill the 'it's okay, she's a girl' ideology. it means you bear the same responsibility but also the same agency. you start doing dishes and cleaning the bathroom in the second year.

you are delicate. they are boys. you get blisters on your feet - you do not hide it and whine about it

hair ties everywhere

how they inconvenience you:

brutal jokes that they need to tone down sometimes

pranks aren't always pleasant

SEVEN LOUD BOYS

feet into your face. rude nudging to wake you up (they do not see it as rude. it's just "gentle" wake up shove)

bring you all the wrong food when you're on your period or sick. for some reason, their brains (except Yoongi who seems to be a professional at caring for a woman) switch off like they think girls eat inherently different foods

their FUCKING UNDERWEAR in the shower

SPITTING IN THE MIRRORS AND TOOTHPASTE IN THE SINK

kicking the garbage away from sight: "i tidied up"

burping

shorter hair everywhere

"can you pluck my armpit"

they leave the mess after themselves way more often than you

you can't cope with them when they start playing games or mess around

sometimes they eat too much too fast

"Y/N'll deal with it" because you are tough in public/speak English/read books/are witty/can communicate with women/pretty/a girl

if you do something funny, they never let go of it. now it's the butt of the joke forever

you mention a celebrity crush once and now you're doomed

SNORING

if Seokjin accidentally pushes Hobi, he sways a little. if Seokjin accidentally pushes you, you fly over and crash into the floor. if Namjoon accidentally slaps you during the change of position, your head hoots for the rest of the night. if Jimin wants to catch and tickle Yoongi, Yoongi smacks him and it's over before it began. if Jimin wants to do that to you, he simply lifts you above the ground and you have no way of escaping

"you won't get it, you're a girl"

"sorry, this is balls only zone"

they watch MMA and SCREAM

one day you're the group princess, the other day you're the punching bag

you start boxing because sometimes it's impossible to break out when they get agitated, they forget that even the smallest of them is still very big and heavy against you

how they protect you:

at the airport, they quickly learn that sweeping you off your feet is too easy. they invent the oval walk. they form an oval around you and you walk all together, you hidden by their shoulders from the cameras and hands. you witness Jungkook's cheek getting scratched once, and he just shrugs it off with the most loving look

NO. Y/N isn't going to a "meeting" in a "hotel".

they check the fanmail and remove the creepy letters that are addressed to you. for the first couple of years, while the mail is handled within the group personally, you have no idea what male fans want to do to you. after, as the amounts of mail begin to overflow, and it is delegated to managers, you are left in the state of shock

"this whole time they have been writing poems about my tits??"

they do not expect you to perform on a male level. sometimes you do and they don't mention it either. they treat you as an equal.

Yoongi is the one who fences sexist questions with the sharpness of an assassin. he doesn't smile about it either, doesn't try to turn it into a joke.

"so, Y/N, which member do you find the most attractive?" Yoongi: "why didn't you ask me this question? i have a favourite one, it's Jimin". "Y/N, what diets are you on to keep that pretty body of yours?" Yoongi: "she only consumes human male meat". he makes a point to mention that you write a lot of lyrics, all the time. after Yoongi, the others pick up on this habit and try to focus on your lyrical and artistic input more than your looks and 'female presence'.

Seokjin's version: "y/n, so do you cook for the boys?" he snorts loudly. "you should see the attempts. no-no-no"

covering you when you're in revealing outfits. Hoseok will pretend to suddenly get very interested in the camera lense when you are in a short skirt and need to do splits on a variety show. Jungkook will outstretch his arm point at something for the other members if your top is revealing too much of your cleavage. Namjoon will put a towel on your knees

when the outfits get ridiculous, they won't wait for your protests. Yoongi will be like: is that for Seokjin? no? huh

giving deadly looks to people who clearly try to get too close to you

they secretly enjoy being the 'go through us first' bunch for you. each of them has this soft, gender-bending persona to some extent. but they switch back to very manly when there's a need to keep an eye on you

adjusting their whole existence to your presence: you are never the tail of the walk. at least one pair of eyes is on you when you're not at the dorm

Jungkook definitely jumps a guy at least once to protect you.

when the hopes are low:

while you are still struggling to lure people to your shows, you blame yourself for being the dragging factor. you always think that if they were a purely boyband, they would already be successful. after all, they are called "bulletproof boys", not "bulletproof boys and Y/N".

you express this self-doubt rarely because you don't want to be an even bigger burden. the response is always the same:

yah! who put this nonsense into your head? you shut up, you write like 50% of the songs! what are we supposed to do without you? sing na-na-na for three hours straight?

Jungkook won't find his shoes without you

don't say that, i just learnt to tie a ponytail!

sharing modest dinners

them secretly deciding to eat less; if each of them gives up just one spoonful of soup, you will get more. they see you are growing thin; they gaslight you by saying you're imagining things and the portions are absolutely identical. in fact, they say, you're undereating

sharing clothes, painkillers and bandaids. emergency muscle rubs. incredible survival-level health hacks to stay conscious learnt from great-grandmothers. carrying each other literally. "hold on one more hour, okay?" drinking one can of red bull all together

you teaching Jungkook to sew the holes closed. Yoongi teaching you to fix your night stand. you teaching Jimin to stop the nose bleed. Seokjin teaching you to make a sustainable meal out of two noodles, an egg and a pepper with salt. you teaching Namjoon to pick the lock. Hoseok teaching you to cover the cuts with foundation. you teaching Taehyung to sleep in sitting position. amalgamating into each other.

by the third year they know how many pairs of underwear you have and which colours can't be washed together. you know which foods upset their stomachs and read their exhaustion from the hum

the only time they come even close to exploiting you is when you wander around the city in America, handing out flyers to your show, and they notice that guys accept them eagerly from you. they ask you to tell the passersby that it's a girl group. you agree.

sleeping together on the dance studio floor, only to discover they had huddled around you, warming you with their bodies like badgers. even Hobi and Yoongi.

by the time you finally make it, you eight know each other and trust each other with your lives. you conduct a thought experiment: you imagine you collapsed in the shower naked and need assistance. which one are you comfortable with helping you? the answer for you now is any one of them.

[paulinet]

Negative indicators

Part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4 - this.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, misunderstandings, profanity, happy ending, ooc Medicine Pocket, Medicine Pocket - them/them, gn reader.

Synopsis: Did you know that they're people too? And that they may not be perfect either? Right?

World count: 5000≈

From author: This part didn't want to come out the way I would have liked at all. I was afraid to move away from the recognizable character. And I couldn't figure out how to move forward. So it was quite hard to write. (That part is not there, we will still love them, wake up and love them further).

English not my first language!

Enjoy reading!

Every person has a negative sides.

As sweet as this relationship may be, we should not forget that Medicine Pocket are human beings just like everyone else in the world, and they are not without their mental and social problems.

Let's start with the fact that they are workaholics. No matter how crazy people call them, no one dares to say that they don't do anything. They devote all their time to new research and don't let their colleagues down. They don't tolerate laziness.

They often lose track of time doing experiments, filling out papers, or looking for something new. They need something to keep their attention, so they look for anything that will keep them busy. How else do they make discoveries, you ask?

That's not to say that they don't know how to rest and be fully lazy, but research does take up 60-70% of their time.

Medicine forget about food, water and etc, and can sit in their lab for long periods of time working. If you try to distract them, they will not respond, or they will first "politely" ask you to back off. If asked by coworkers, they are quickly told to fuck off.

This can last from a few hours to a few days, and when they "withdraw" they are quick to seek you out. Then the rest of their free time is spent with you, with friends and socially. You could say that research is their way of discharging, and spending time with someone is their way of getting energy for further work.

They can be docile from time to time and then suddenly become as active as if they had a thorn in one side. At one time they may be relatively quiet and harmless for a few days and then become like a raving psychiatric patient. This is when they need to let their energy out and enjoy spending time, if you and everyone else is not so busy.

About that. They don't mind if you are much quieter than they are and less mobile, but they do spend a lot of time outdoors and they would like to spend it with you. If, however, you don't like a lot (when I mean a lot, I mean a lot) of walking, well, there are going to be discrepancies here.

If they walk around Laplace, I think they get into every place they can. They'll stick their noses in everywhere and drag the others with them. It's fun to find more and more interesting places in Laplace, right? I think in their hometown, they were the most active kid too and poked around every millimeter looking for interesting things.

Medicine Pocket can't stand not being given their own personal space. Working and hanging out together is great! But they just as seriously need a few hours to themselves, just to themselves. If you don't give them their personal space - they'll start cursing and getting angry. It's not on purpose, but they really don't like it.

They are very emotional. Especially when something doesn't go as they planned. Sometimes you can calm them down with dog toys, and sometimes even those don't help. On one hand this is good - they are more open, more honest with their emotions and not afraid to show them. On the other hand... Sometimes it can be... I don't know, annoying? Tense? It takes some getting used to, I think it'll give you a headache at first.

As I mentioned, they're damn loyal partners. Like dogs, yep.

This is why they don't tolerate lies in relationships. They're open about their judgments, opinions, what they're doing, where they're going - they'll let it all out without even thinking about it, just because it's not a big deal to them. You know, like, what if you come by after work to pick them up?

But if you start lying to them often, they become resentful. They're loyal to you and they care about your opinion - so why don't you even want to tell them what you're doing? It's not that hard to tell them what you do during the day or what's bothering you.

They are in no way controlling you. Their concept of being honest is to share your opinion even if it is radically different from theirs, to warn you if you are unavailable and to tell you if you are not satisfied with something. This is the most basic thing you should at least be doing. They... Like to get to know you.

But how do you involve them in your affairs if they disappear, come back and pretend that everything is okay without asking about you? Or rather, they do, but not what you want them to ask?

You just have no choice, you know? It's very hard to get rid of them sometimes, the energy clouds their view. They've just worked so hard, now they deserve some rest! What could be better than a rest in the fresh air and with you?

But... Actually, if you say it in a more "clear", straightforward way, they will generally understand. They're not idiot, after all. The relationship will be up to both partners, actually.

Except sometimes it feels like they're the only one in the relationship, and you're... Well, a ponytail.

Just like lying in a relationship, they do not like control. They are free-spirited and liberated, and controlling this dog makes their opinion of you... Questionable. They do not control you, and they will not tolerate the same for themselves.

They also don't tolerate being made jealous. Pocket are not the kind of people you can lead such an emotional roller coaster with. The only reaction you can see on their face is indifference or annoyance.

It doesn't mean that they are completely indifferent to you. They are not ready to share you with someone else, it's true. For them, fidelity in a relationship on both sides is the most important thing, but deliberately making jealous, flirting with other people is not their style. And they hope it's not your either.

They're just good at other emotional merry-go-rounds, okay?

They are lovers of spending money. They don't care about money, however they need it. Spending a huge sum of money is no problem. They don't leave themselves with empty pockets, but why would they look at something cheaper when the first option is expensive but the best option? It's easier that way.

And so they will not tolerate it when you reproach them too often for spending money on sometimes, frankly, not the most understandable things. Especially when their superiors have already squeezed them for funding for a new project, and they have nothing to surprise their investors with. They need it, you know?

Sometimes they do not take your words seriously. Not just words, but complaints, annoyance about certain things, etc. How can you be angry with them? It's such a small thing, well, calm down.

But compare this their lack of understanding of your claims as slowly putting stacks of poison on a character in a game that slowly destroys you.

Only when they see on your face a sincere expression of anger, misunderstanding, or, even worse, tears, will they realize that they have devalued your feelings and given you a reason to be truly offended by them.

Then the situation gets more complicated because they don't know how to apologize. No, I don't mean apologizing for the sake of apologizing. They don't know how to sincerely apologize and admit a mistake.

They're not ashamed of it, but... It's hard for them. They're stubborn to the end. Until you have a final fight and the situation gets out of their control. Then they too will start to open up all their emotional gaps and realize how much they may have hurt you with their comments.

Hey, that doesn't mean there won't be an apology. There will be. "I fucked up. And... You don't deserve it. I was an idiot."

It will take a long time, but they'll learn to apologize to you genuinely, and the sincere "I fucked up" will evolve into an equally sincere "..I'm sorry. I really miscalculated. You... You don't deserve it."

But if you've already offended them, they expect an apology. They will think over all your pretentious actions and words against them and point out exactly what offended them. It is often quite difficult, but not impossible, to hurt them. Keep in mind.

Speaking of comments. They tend to pick up on small details in you or your behavior. Sounds like a good thing, doesn't it? They'll be the first to notice if you've trimmed your hair a few millimeters or something. But it also means they might misunderstand some of your claims.

They often want what's best, but don't consider the factors that get in the way of that "best".

Like, you can tell them one thing and they'll chew it up into something else entirely. It's like talking to a toxic parent who can both hear you and turn the situation in their direction. Sometimes they do it on purpose, for the sake of a joke, and sometimes they don't notice how such jokes can hurt you.

Sometimes they can be very annoying. But they will understand if you don't want to hear from them for a while. Just say so. In fact, they always hear you. They just don't always understand exactly what you're trying to convey.

Just accept the fact that fighting with them is like putting out a fire with gasoline, i.e., it's best not to even start.

They also sometimes don't respond to messages, they just read. You know that type of person who reads, mentally replies and closes the chat? That's them.

And if you have any personal problems because of this, tell them right away. It is not a fact, of course, that they will try and constantly answer, but silence of problems pisses them off as much as presenting them.

They're the ones who work in a large circle of people every day. They're the ones who aren't afraid to speak their mind, to say what they want. They're loud and quick to lose their temper.

They're also the type of person who, even after all that, won't let people get close to them. Seemingly ambivert and etc, but they are the type of person who is as open as they are closed. You can tell you know them, but do you really know and understand them that well, do you think? They'll argue.

No one can ever truly look into another person's soul, but they will be truly grateful if you at least try to understand them.

They do care, but in their own way. More brutal, more... It's not even a hint of caring. But a lot of people just don't look at the bottom line, they just pick up on superficial words. For them it is not difficult to ask you to be more attentive to yourself, to eat, to sleep and everything like that, but because of the immediately following unpleasant words - it is not clear what they mean.

They're not the kind of people who cry or whine a lot about something not working out. But I don't think it doesn't happen at all. They cry, it's just that no one ever sees it.

I think they only cry when they don't have a chance to let out absolutely every emotion. It's as if they have to be pinned against the wall on all sides and not given a chance to get angry, bite someone, or speak out. It's as if their feelings are deliberately shoved into a barrel so that they accumulate and accumulate until the only way out is to cry.

Their noise, screams and bites are like a way to get rid of unnecessary, heavy emotions that only exhaust them even more. And when a person is shoved into a glass flask of water and corked, leaving them gasping for breath, you have to do everything you can to break it and break free. Medicine Pocket cry because it's their way of dealing with suffocating emotions and feelings.

Like I said, they don't like being seen by anyone. They're not too pretty when they cry, and yes it causes new problems due to their reluctance to open up to someone with that sensitive side. But... If it's you?

I guess it doesn't take a lot of words. No action either. Sitting down and being quiet is the best help, that's all you can offer right now. They'll talk to you when they're ready. When it's not so hard for them.

We all know that Medicine Pocket are amateur at testing drugs on themselves. Not amateurs, professionals.

Have you ever considered how dangerous it could be? How many times do they put themselves in danger? Countless times.

How do you usually hold up because of all this? Hard to say.

Usually, when they are testing something on themselves, they don't let you near them and they don't approach you themselves. Because sometimes it's not the most pleasant sight (amazing resilience in their colleagues, actually). All it takes is one or two people to record everything that happens to them. And Medicine don't like to be disturbed or interrupted.

Then you find them in a hospital bed. How does that make you feel?

Especially when they may be near death. Or in such a serious condition that it's easier not to even go into their chamber, because it's so hard morally.

But I think fate has favored them in such a way that even if they're on the verge of death 100 times, they'll still make it. And yet it can make you very uncomfortable.

So if you don't accept it right away and often discourage them from experimenting etc, you're sure to have a lot of arguments.

Relationship them is a ticking time bomb. In every sense. Especially in health, both physically and mentally. Without realizing it, they can smack you around on all fronts and not feel guilty about it. No, they're not assholes who like to play with other people's feelings.

It's just that they've been used to dealing with their own feelings and problems for so long that now digging into other people's is an unknown luxury they want to touch, but that luxury is crumbling before their eyes.

Like... Like they want a relationship, but at the same time they feel good enough. There can be serious misunderstandings because of this, because most of the time they might act like you're friends and not lovers.

They're really trying. They try to understand you when you talk about something, they try to accept the fact that they can hurt you as well as you hurt them. They try to consider even the silliest (or not) reason you resented them for and not repeat it. They are learning how to run this experiment next, and this is the first time they've had it so difficult.

They are often lost and angry because all these feelings are a novelty in their familiar life. Give them and yourself time. Medicine Pocket... really love you. And they will try, even through their own resentment.

Do not approach them when they are angry at others. They can bite when they are too overexcited. They almost bit your hand once in that state, and they've been staying away from you ever since when they're so angry. After all, they don't want you to forbid them from biting.

They are clearly the kind of people who can often bite their lips in anger, but it happens so rarely that it's not even a bad habit. But reworking is a serious and bad habit.

They never immediately talk through problems, if possible. While they are working, their thoughts still return to this or that conversation, and only then do they start to draw conclusions and make logical chains. Then they put their work aside and with an angry "damn it" they start thinking.

And they're usually just as quick to go solve the mystery. The first thought is the right thought, you ever heard of that? It doesn't always work with actions, but... I think you get the picture.

For the past day the reports have been hovering around the lab like a black storm cloud, sometimes rattling with reminders of deadlines and a strong wind in the face of other colleague's discontent, and they don't give you a moment's peace of mind. Your temples are pounding, your thoughts are glued together, and the time hasn't even reached lunchtime, the sun is only just knocking on the window. The earliest morning, an ordinary morning, a familiar morning. A morning that didn't portend a grand change in plans.

That's what you thought while you were putting another stack of papers to other stacks of the same kind, and they only grew and grew exponentially.

Everyone is bustling around. Everyone's working. Everyone...

"Hey, Y/n! Where'd you go?" — of course. Everyone. Except for your partner, who apparently decided to distract you from your work since they finished it themselves. Unless something new and uncharted was found that they could study for a long time.

Your gazes crossed, and you smiled tiredly. Still, it's nice to see someone smiling in this room, not in a strained way, but from the heart. There is something about it, something good, and it colors your day with warmth and joy.

"Oh... Medicine, it's you. You scared me," — and though you say it sluggishly and without mimicking their vigor, as if you don't need them here, Medicine Pocket know you're always glad they're here.

They wave off the fake scare, standing up next to you.

"Yeah, yeah, but I haven't started scaring yet. What's up?"

The casual conversation should distract you a bit from the impending wave of work yet to be done, and you're willing to slow it down for the sake of this conversation.

"Not bad... Working as usual."

If 'as usual' can refer to the stacks of papers that look more like endless, skyward-facing pillars, then yes, it's working fine. But from the sour look on the researcher's face, it's not hard to realize that they don't like any answer. Where is it seen that this is the norm?

"And you like taking longer than you should with all that paperwork... You've got to moderate it, you know. You've got such circles under your eyes... Terrible," — first they examine the paper, then you, from top to bottom with a loud whistle.

"They're always like that."

Well, they're obviously not going to leave it like that.

"And now it's gotten many times worse. Have you seen yourself in a mirror? You definitely need to take a couple hours away from all this nonsense!"

They raked all the papers into one pile, pushing them to the opposite end of the desk. Now you should be devoting all your time to them, not to the boring report you have to hand in... This evening.

But... you don't have time for fun now.

"Hey... I'm working," — it sounds so lame, it's not even a complaint. You're just tired, honestly, no energy to argue or figure out what they suddenly need.

But it's not on Medicine Pocket radar, and they pull you from your workplace towards the exit by force, and you can't say anything - they interrupt you faster than you can digest it.

"You'll work later. I'm sure Lucy won't complain if you take these papers later. Dump it all on me, as usual. A deal?" — enthusiasm is in the air as you and them walk down the hall.

Only this enthusiasm doesn't reach out to you at all, on the contrary, you scare it with your ominous and tired atmosphere.

"..."

What else is there to say? You were hoping that you wouldn't be dragged somewhere, but just distracted for a few minutes.

They started talking again about something new, about what they were up to and the workers were about to bring it to them, walking you through the winding corridors. You sigh.

They won't listen if you say it anyway.

"Deal."

If you managed to turn in that poor musculature last time and no one reprimanded you at the last minute, it's pure luck that you probably gave it your all. Other times, it's unlikely to fly.

You seemed to have a little fun, your brain cooled down and ventilated, it was easier to breathe and think. And then you came in and you just sorted everything out real quick. Everybody's on the plus side! Right?

That's right. Everything worked out fine that time.

Now you're sitting with Medicine at the same table with a bag of cookies in your hands. You can't even get food down your throat.

Not because you don't want to eat, but because you would be doing something else right now instead of sitting in a public place listening to other people with their vague, obviously useless to you, conversations.

Medicine Pocket are saying something, loud and clear, and your head is starting to hurt from their voice. Their voice is very beautiful, pleasing to the ears at any time, but not now. Now it hits them like a jackhammer or a drum, no pauses or breaks, just a monotonous chewing of another of their projects.

The tea had gone cold, too. Not a sip was taken, even the sachet was left in the glass.

You just stare somewhere behind Medicine Pocket, trying to take in their loud speech, but it doesn't work. Words fly out of your ears in milliseconds. It made the task more difficult and just cluttered your head more.

"You're kind of creepy today. Did you get off on the wrong foot?"

You flinch when someone walks noisily behind you, or maybe it's because of an unexpected question from someone you're talking to. Or both.

"Sort of," — is the short answer that doesn't go without detailed scrutiny. From the look becomes more grave.

"That's not an answer."

"Why?"

"Give me a clear and articulated answer, not an undeveloped piece of it."

Oh, there you go. It's your fault. This time they dragged you off the lab under the pretext of going out to eat or you'd be only skin and bones. It's great on the one hand, they care about your health!

On the other hand, you almost fell asleep on that couch, even though it wasn't too comfortable. But Medicine didn't care too much about that.

"I just didn't get enough sleep, what else is there to talk about?" — and that's the truth. Maybe they'll remember why you didn't sleep well.

But instead only a chuckle follows.

"Of course you haven't slept, you're trapped in a castle of papers and files! I really appreciate your hard work, but you don't live on work, or it will suck you dry."

Do you often take your own advice? you really want to ask this, but you hold back because you don't want to start a fight over nothing. It'll be even harder to clean it up. The packet of cookies is discreetly put on the table. It's redundant in this ridiculous conversation.

"...Uh-huh," — it's easier to agree than to ask them, seriously! What are you gonna say now? You went with them. There's no excuse. You could've said no and moved on to a pleasant dreams.

"..." — they stop talking, too, but stare at you absently, as if waiting for another answer.

This can't go on like this. You're too tired, and it's strange that they haven't figured out why.

You move away and stand up, catching the surprised look on your face. You shrug.

"...I'm a little tired."

"And?.."

"I'm going to go lie down. Good luck with that project," — you turn around and walk away towards the exit. To be honest, you weren't even listening to what they were saying. You'll try to get it out of someone later.

Medicine Pocket tense their shoulders, but say nothing. They just stare at you. For a long time, until your figure disappears through the doorway. Only then do they return to your empty seat.

"...Have a good rest, I guess."

Today you would like to lose yourself in the fog and never return to the place where you work.

Sometimes you get the impression that people are either too dumb or want to test how dumb you are. Either you have done something wrong to someone and now you are being tortured like a child to a parent in a store, or today the planets have got into the most disgusting position and decided to kindly take out all their accumulated anger on you. Otherwise, there is no other way to explain why you are being yanked around more often today than anyone else in the room. Even if that is, to some extent, your job.

Would you like you to get the files from desk because they really need them right now? Uh, fine. Record data while someone's doing an experiment? No problem. Help them set the temperature for boiling? Okay.

At the end of the day, everyone is tired but they did a good job. Well done, what else can you say to them and to yourself?

Now, sitting at the table in your room, you have to finish some work. Thankfully, there's not much to do! You're a lightning today. That's something to be proud of.

But as soon as the pen is between your fingers and your head is set up for productive work, gathering the rest of your strength in all departments, of course you are interrupted.

You don't have to imagine them.

"Hey! What's going on?" — you sigh. The whole mood is killed with one ball, a three-pointer. But with that comes misunderstanding.

"What else do you need from me today..." — you cling to their facial expression. And what happened today that was so unpleasant that their eyebrows drew together into a house? "Did something happen?"

"Did something happen? Are you serious? That's what I want to ask you!"

You frowned, pushing away from the table.

"What do you mean?"

Medicine Pocket take the nearest chair and sit down across from you, staring firmly into your tired eyes. There's no reproach or the usual irritation in their gaze. It's incomprehension.

"You haven't responded since yesterday morning."

You blink in surprise.

Oh, they mean you haven't answered them for such a long time..

"...No?"

"Check if you don't trust me."

The smartphone in your hands turns on, and... You see about 25+ messages blinking reproachfully on the screen. That said, your phone was not in silent mode.

"Oh..."

The chat opens, and your finger slides across the screen, reading the messages in passing. You seem to have missed a lot of important stuff.

Budget Buster

Hey, you left your bag in the cafeteria.

If you don't pick it up yourself, it'll stay with me until tonight.

Yesterday, 9:28 a.m. reading

If X comes to you with another request to participate in the experiment, fuck him. He's been on everyone's ass today.

Yesterday, 11:47 a.m. reading...

Hey, when a person writes, it's nice to respond.

But not silence, that's gross.

Yesterday, 8:00 p.m. reading

Are you kidding? You always answer.

I won't believe you broke both your hands on pen and papers at once.

8:12 a.m, reading

Are you holding a fucking grudge against me and you don't even bother to tell me about it?

1:32 p.m reading...

The messages fly by one after another, while you try to think of something to reply to them.

Because you did ignore them deliberately to some extent.

Well, you had a difficult and hard day without them, and you had no energy left to answer, you didn't even want to pick up that rectangular box and type your answers.

Although you'd think they'd be more concerned about the fact that you're not responding to them rather than the fact that you've suddenly disappeared.

...It's embarrassing.

Out of the corner of your eye you catch a glimpse of Medicine Pocket watching every your move, the movement of every eyelash and breath, in an attempt to find something that will lift the veil of mystery and reveal the truth that they have already realized they will absolutely hate.

They weren't worried. It's just that you almost always respond. Almost instantly.

And now you've been silent for two days in a row, after leaving the cafeteria with a cloudy expression on your face as if you were about to throw up, but it's unclear why: they were sure you only see food 1 time a day.

Of course they'll resent the sudden change in attitude.

"So what the hell is this all about?" — they deliberately say indifferently, as if they came to you because you owe them something, but you know the true emotion hiding behind the facade: impatience.

They look directly into your eyes, trying to guess your emotions. They can't. It's all clouded by fatigue.

You sigh and look away. You think about how to start a conversation.

"Remember when you asked me how I was doing. I lied," — the hoarseness comes out before you can collate the words into more or less coherent sentences.

Your fingers clench awkwardly and carelessly, you don't know where to place yourself.

"Like I'm blind. I noticed something was wrong with you from the start."

"And why didn't you ask?"

This sentence comes out so abruptly before you even realize it.

Unlike Medicine Pocket.

Their eyes widened, their brows furrowed even more. Like you didn't tell them how you felt, but something unpleasant, and now they're reconsidering their attitude toward you-that's how you felt.

"What? Why should I ask when I can already see that you can't even perform simple actions anyway?"

Really. If they can see that you are unwell, why ask? They have eyes and other senses that allow them to assess your already waning, volcano-like state.

You sigh involuntarily, deep and long, because the air around you has compressed to the point where you're about to be crushed to the floor.

"That's the problem."

"Clarify," — even though they seem to know what you're talking about, they want to hear specifics.

The fabric of your work uniforms is so uncomfortable. It's heavy, just when a discussion reaches its peak and demands an immediate response. You should have changed.

"I'm tired, Medicine."

"I see."

"You see, but you don't understand. I'm tired of you too," — you say it in one exhale because it's the unpleasant fact you don't want to talk about.

Medicine feels bitter on they tongue.

It's to be expected that you're tired of them. They get tired of themselves too, rarely of course, but tired. But... They didn't expect you to say it like that.

Straight up. Hurtful, yeah. Unpleasant.

That's what they usually do.

"How could you be tired of me if you've been ignoring me for so long?"

"That's why I didn't answer. It was horrible of me, I know... But otherwise you wouldn't have let up for a while."

Let up? What do you mean, they're let up? Oh, come on.

"I'm a human being, too. And I get tired, too. I thought you understood that," — you confession begins uneasily. The corners of Medicine Pocket eyes squint and they lips stretch into a wry streak. "I'm sorry, but sometimes I just don't want you to drag me on rest, because it's not a vacation at all. You can be totally the wrong kind of rest for me sometimes."

"You sometimes are absolutely not the rest I want," — the last phrase crashes into them very hard, and sticks in their heads like a cheap record in an old vinyl player, and with that squeaky, cliffy noise keeps playing, sounding only worse with each turn. Unpleasant.

They don't understand. They don't understand why you're suddenly talking about it. They don't understand why you're suddenly tired of them, why you don't even want to see or hear them, why you don't enjoy spending time with them? What did they do wrong that makes you feel so... so... Lame?

Hey, Pocket don't forget about you. They don't want you to live a 'work-home-work-home' life. If you're tired, of course you need to rest. If you haven't eaten, of course you should eat.

But... Tired? Of them? After all they've done for you?

"Noted," — the phrase came out too mechanical, like a robot, old and rusty. They rise from their chair and prepare to leave as you catch them by the sleeve.

"You don't get it," — your words, on the contrary, sound more alive because you've already made up your mind to say everything here and now. "Sit back down. I haven't finished."

They obey. But now they no longer sit firmly and confidently, and sometimes fidget in the seemingly so comfortable chair.

"I'm not a child to be told the obvious things."

"Why won't you even listen to me now?"

You drop them again when they've just returned to the pedestal of confidence. Twice.

"If I wasn't listening, I wouldn't be sitting here giving you an fucking interrogation," — they snap back, because they have no more avenues of escape left.

"I still love you," — the words the researcher dares not go against. They turn their head to the side, propping their head up with their hand so that their lips are not visible. Biting their lower lip. "But you don't hear me too often."

It seems like such an obvious truth, but here it is right in front of them-and they lose their temper.

"I didn't answer you, not because I was bored with you, but because I wanted some rest. I should have written about it, but the day was terribly busy and I was tired, and it was too late to write anything, you showed up on your own."

This time they choose to listen rather than be outraged, though their eyebrows are still furrowed and their opinion of the situation is still at odds with yours.

"Why don't you just say you're tired? I'm a sentient being, in case you've forgotten."

"Because you don't give me a voice. I'm trying to say something, but you're taking it to a point where silence is the best option."

"In that case, fucking speak up."

"I tried but... You're hard to argue with. And I don't want to hear some of the less-than-pleasant things said to me in these moments."

You suddenly realize you still have them by the sleeve of your other hand, and tug lightly on it.

"I know you're trying. And it makes me feel good that you want to help... But sometimes a simple 'how are you feeling?' is enough. And the question of whether I'd like to take a break... And what kind."

"That's three questions."

"Pff, Medi..."

You're not angry anymore. Almost. Just looking into their indignant eyes with a meek smile.

"Please... Listen about my condition too. I'm really curious about the weed you were trying to weed there, but-"

"It wasn't a weed."

"Oh, really? What, is it a plant from the emperor's garden?"

"I don't do plants at all right now."

An awkward pause ensues, which is immediately interrupted by your crooked and embarrassed smile.

"Sorry, I was so sleepy I wasn't listening to you."

"I already understand that."

Their expression brightens, and you can even see through the hand at their mouth that they're smiling. Then they tug on your sleeve in return, but more timidly and cautiously.

"And, ahem... I get you, too. Don't lecture me again," — you construe this as 'I screwed up, sure, but I kind of get it and I'll try not to do that.' No problem. "What's so funny this time?"

You shake your head negatively.

"Nothing. Just glad you understood."

You want to add 'not completely, but at least you heard.'

"I saw you've got that annoying idiot's molecular biology experience report in there, you know, let me see," — but they didn't need to, because they decided to take the conversation in another direction.

"Want to help?"

"I want to evaluate his work."

"Please, here you go. Like he's going to outdo you."

"Pff, I don't think so."

They stare at these papers and discreetly moved a little closer, then slapped the sheet with the edge of their palm indignantly.

"And he wrote this shit? Give me a pen..." — and they immediately start filling it out with already completely different data. If you're lucky, it's not your fault and those angry words are not addressed to you anyway.

You sigh.

You feel better. You've been heard. Not 100% understood, but heard. And that's what you wanted to think about for the rest of the day, while Medicine Pocket "discreetly" helped you sort out those idiotic reports (probably to make amends).

This Doggo help with the reports, even though they're the reason there's so many of them? I don't think you'd mind.

At least it won't be a big deal anymore.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Thanks for reading!

[lover-of-mine]

I agree with your last point, but what do you mean by they’re scared to write established buddie, like you think they wanted to explore Eddie being gay first? Or they wanted to drag out a plot line of them getting together

No, no, I think they are stuck in a corner. And they have been since s5. The foundation for buddie is there. They have everything. They even have a kid. We saw them fight, we saw them save each other's lives, we saw them hang out, we saw them be domestic, we saw them be fully feral drunks. Slowburns thrive on the tension and most shows fumble their slowburn once the tension is resolved because playing the tension is all they know. But buddie doesn't really allow for them to force tension back in the tropey way most shows tend to do. Because they've done it all while best friends. They suck at lying to each other, they are great at the whole it's you and me vs the problem not you vs me, they actually do have good communication if they are allowed to talk (again, all they need is one honest conversation for lines to be crossed and the show doesn't want to give them space to do that, so much so the show isn't letting them be alone, take Eddie's startled "oh man I'm gonna miss you" or "I don't know what I'm gonna do without you" for instance, if you remove the threat of "I'm about to leave" from them and allow them to talk, really talk, they will figure things out, it's why things keep happening with other people in the room), they saved each other in many ways, from Buck giving Eddie hope to be alive to Eddie literally restarting Buck's heart. They have it all, which means they are hard to write as an established couple without putting too much focus on them for an ensemble show or fully fumbling them by adding unnecessary tension. Especially if they are working together. I don't particularly think they want to drag the getting together part of, so much so that the way they handled it in s8 was just not talk about it and fully remove Eddie from multiple episodes. If they wanted to drag it out because they want this to feel earned somehow, the dragging it would be more satisfying. I think they reach a point where the solution for everything is letting them talk and getting them together and then they panic because they don't know if they can make established buddie as good as the lead up. But the more they delay the getting together, the more insane the lead up gets and the more intense the established part would have to be, so they are caught in a deadlock. At this point, I legitimately think they are scared of writing buddie as a couple because the pressure to make it good is insane. Buddie getting together would be historical. But that's also a scary concept to write when so much of the show ends up relying on them. Just see the way they used ryliver to calm people down. I legitimately think they don't know how to deal with how getting them together would affect the way they need to write the show.

[pansy-picnics]

splatoon oc silliness (ft @shr000min)

[magicpiano]

Bruce Wayne had a child that was somehow kidnapped right out of the hospital just hours after being born. He of them ever stopped looking despite how cold the trail had grown.

Years later there is some rouge attack and a civilian child was injured and taken to the hospital. Bruce does a DNA test on the blood found at the scene and concludes that the child is actually his long lost kid.

Dani was planning to sneak out of the hospital the moment the doctors stopped looking at her. Then Bruce Wayne of all people comes in and claims that she is his long lost child. She knows that this is very impossible because she is a clone, but Bruce won't listen to her and she really doesn't want to explain the clone thing to a "normal" stranger.

This does brings up a lot of questions about how Danny ended up living with the Fentons though.

[autism-corner]

they hate me for my swagger

[mechahero]

anonymous asked- "DAAAAD!!" All hell was breaking loose. An adorable frankensteined munchkin, born happily in a vat or on an operating table struck by lightning had a grave concern, a real grievance to air. "There's a crust on this sandwich! I said no crusties." That was strange. That sandwich didn't have a crust a few minutes ago when it had been prepared. Something devilish was afoot. Not that Lambda's kid was aware of anything else. They just wanted their snack time on schedule. go on anon and pretend to be my muse’s future kid!

"Huh?" Cue the cyborg looking up from the counter, gripping the butter knife in his hand as he was cutting the crust of his own sandwich.

How weird. He could have sworn he'd just cut it off a few moments ago. No, wait, he did.

There's a small clunk as the butter knife is set down. Lambda makes his way over to his creation, peeking over their shoulder. "No, I definitely got rid of those?", the question comes out confused. But there it was, there again. The cyborg clicks his tongue. "Oh." A pause. "Y'know what? Lemme just cut off real quick?", he says, sideeying his kid all the while (out of their sight, mind you!) , a thought crossing his mind.

They couldn't have ended up with the same reality bending powers as him... could they?

[complainblogforthevoid]

I've finally figured out an argument that convinces coding tech-bros that AI art is bad.

Got into a discussion today (actually a discussion, we were both very reasonable and calm even through I felt like committing violence) with a tech-bro-coded lady who claimed that people use AI in coding all the time so she didn't see why it mattered if people used AI in art.

Obviously I repressed the surge of violence because that would accomplish nothing. Plus, this lady is very articulate, the type who makes claims and you sit there thinking no that's wrong it must be but she said it so well you're kind of just waffling going but, no, wait-- so I knew I had to get this right if I was gonna come out of this unscathed.

The usual arguments about it being about the soul of it and creation fell flat, in fact she was adamant that anyone who believed that was in fact looking down at coding as an art form as she insisted it is. Which, sure, you can totally express yourself through coding. There's a lot more nuance as to the differences but clearly I was not going to win this one.

The other people I was with (literally 8 people anti-ai against her, but you can't change the mind of someone who doesn't want to listen and she just kept accusing us of devaluing coding as an art) took over for I kid you not 15 minutes while I tried desperately to come up with a clear and articulate way to explain the difference to her. They tried so many reasonable arguments, coding being for a function ("what, art doesn't serve a function?") coding being many discrete building blocks that you put together differently, and the AI simply provides the blocks and you put it together yourself ("isn't that what prompt building is") that it's bad for the environment ("but not if it's used for capitalism, hm?" "Yeah literally that's how capitalism works it doesn't care about the environment" she didn't like that response)

But I finally got it.

And the answer is: It's not about what you do, it's about what you claim to be.

Imagine that someone asks an AI to write a code and, by some miracle, it works perfectly without them having to tweak it---which is great because they couldn't tell you what a single solitary thing in that code means.

Now imagine this person, with their code that they don't know how it works, goes and applies to be a coder somewhere, presenting this AI code as proof that they're qualified.

Should they be hired?

She was horrified, of course. Of course they shouldn't be. They're not qualified. They can't actually code, and even if by some miracle they did have an AI successfully write a flawless code for every issue they came across that wouldn't be their code, you could hire any shmuck on the street to do that, no reason to pay someone like they're creating something.

When actual engineers use AI what they do is get some kind of base, which they then go though and check for problems and then if they find any they fix them, and add on to the base code with their own knowledge instead of just trying different prompt after prompt until they randomly come across one that works.

People who generate code like this don't usually call themselves engineers. They're people who needed a bit of code and didn't have the knowledge to generate it, and so used a resource.

And there you go. There are people who have none of the skills of artists, they don't practice, they don't create for themselves. When they feed the prompt to the AI they then don't just use the resulting image as a reference point for their own personal masterpiece, and if they don't like it they don't have the skills to change it---they simply try another prompt, and do that until they get something they like.

These people are calling themselves artists.

Not only that, these people are bringing the AI generated thing to interviews, and they are getting hired, leaving people who slave over their craft out of the job.

And that is the difference, for the tech bros who think AI art isn't a big deal.

[connormoving]

it is quite interesting to me how the feeling of the sounds of a word can change how the word feels imthats such a nothing sentence i mean like oo sounds bigger than like ee sounds to me you know. and of course theres kiki and bouba snd all of this.

[inbabylontheywept]

i once accidentally dated someone for a few months. its very difficult to explain how this happened, but the gist is that i thought we were hanging out, and she thought we were on dates, and it was just a very painfully highschool thing.

she was a little bit confused that i hadnt tried to pull any moves, at all, even a little. like, didnt even try holding hands because, and i cannot emphasize this enough, i did not know we were dating.

so, halloween rolled around, and she thought, you know, why wait for destiny, when you can grab it? so she hit me with a clue by four.

babylon, she said. babylon. my mom's gonna be out of town on halloween, and im gonna have the house to myself, and it's going to be kind of lonely. would you like to come to my house and watch scary movies with me?

you know, kind of a netflix and chill thing. except, and i cannot emphasize this enough, i did not know we were dating. also autism. so i took it at face value and said: oh! yeah! thatd be fun! and she thought she got her point across, but she didnt and it was a mess.

skip forward to halloween: my family has a block party every year, right? and at that point i was too old to really trick or treat, but we still wore costumes for our role in the block party, which in my case, was handing out cotton candy. so i took the first shift, and my costume was this homemade abomination minion thing. i had full yellow body paint, and goggles, and a bald cap, and overalls. the kids who saw it were like, uh, hm. overly realistic minion. and adults were like, oh, some kind of hills have eyes hillbilly with jaundice. very scary.

(it was not my best costume.)

my little brother swapped me out for second shift, and i was getting ready to change out to head to her house when i was like: no, she'll get a real kick out of this. this is one of the worst things i have ever worn. so i kept it on and just brought a change of clothes thinking i could shower real quick and change at her place after she saw my nightmare getup.

so i left after that, got there, knocked on her door, and she said come on in. so i went in, and there was this very long hall with an abrupt right turn into her living room where the tv was, and i went down the hall, and i made the turn, and my field of view went from beige drywal to her, on the couch, naked. naked in the paint me like one of your french girls pose. super naked.

i panicked. this was my first time seeing a real person like, full on sex naked,which is a totally different beast from other kinds of naked. you see one kind of naked and you think yeah, im ready for all the kinds of naked, but you arent. i wasnt at least. i really wasn't.

so my brain crashed to BIOS. she also crashed to BIOS, but for different reasons. of all the ways this could have turned me, having me show up in yellow body paint and overalls was pretty pretty low down the list.

so we sat there a while, and you know, she wasn't getting any less naked, which really wasn't helping me get my brain sorted out. it really wasnt much of a surprise when she got her bearings first and started asking questions.

"babylon," she said. "babylon. what are you wearing?"

and i was like, kind of rebooted, but i was nowhere near full functionality, so symbolic language wasnt loaded in yet. i had nothing running but my trusty autism.exe, so i said

"overalls"

and she looked at me like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked at her like she was the first naked person i had seen in real life who got naked specifically for me, and my upper level cognitive process went: "listen man, we are not going to get our shit together as long as 80% of your brain power is devoted to not blinking. you gotta get out of here."

and if id communicated that, maybe things would have been less of a mess, but instead i just kind of turned around and walked back to my car. i figured i could drive a few loops around the block, get my brain in order, and figure out what the hell we were gonna do.

the only thing i had said to her since arriving was, again, overalls.

first loop around, i was like: oh god fucking damnit. oh shit. oh shit. shes gonna get like, an eating disorder from this. oh no.

second loop around i was like: oh NOOOOO oh WHAT THE FUCK oh SWEET JESUS PLEASE. i dont wanna go back man. i just wanna bury this and forget about it. please. please. let this bitter cup pass from my lips.

and after my third loop, i went and i knocked on her door again.

she answered it this time, and i counted my lucky stars that she'd changed into some pajamas. she was all teary eyed which was the saddest thing ever, and we sat down in her kitchen and talked. it was pretty bad - i figured out we'd been dating, and she figured out that trying to jump from home plate to 3rd base is considered ballsy in baseball, least of all dating. no real winners there. and i can remember after all that, we sat there a bit a bit longer, just steadying ourselves, and i was like "well, im actually really glad we figured that out. guess i'll see you at school tomorow' and she said "WAIT. wait."

"lets watch shrek 2."

so we did and it was horrible. we did not look at each other. we did not say a word. we just sat in stony silence, while shrek 2 played in the background, and when it was done we shook hands. i think we might have been able to salvage that as a friendship if it hadnt been for shrek. as it was she turned white as a sheet and ran away every time she even got a glimpse of me at school, and that summer she moved to a new state to live with her dad. all her friends said she moved just so she wouldn't have to go to school with me anymore, and i dont actually think they were lying.

every time i hear relationship counselors talk about how important communication is, and i'm tempted to roll my eyes, i look back and go, alright. alright. theres probably some poor bastard, somewhere in the world, who doesnt even know that hes married.

and god help him when he figures it out.

other bad dating story here.

[softaestluv]

more of Ghost’s sweet wife from this blurb! | mlist ✎ᝰ.ᐟ

Ghost’s sergeant’s are still trying to figure out how a sweet thing like yourself ended up as their Lieutenant’s wife. Rumors spread, ones that bruise Ghost’s ego just a little— ‘Did you hear the Lieutenant is holding a poor lass hostage as his wife?’

It doesn’t help that anytime anyone asks he chalks it up to his ‘irresistible charm.’

The truth? Well he can’t let his team know how utterly soft he is for you.

It would ruin his image if he told them that when he’s not on base he spends his spare time at his elderly neighbor’s apartment. Carries her mail up the stairs everyday so she doesn’t have to climb up the stairs herself, helps her up them whenever he does see her shaking and stumbling up the steps.

Asks her if she needs anything from the market when he’s going shopping, takes her to get refills of her medicine. Always makes himself available to her no matter how minuscule, opens stubborn jars for her, helps her read the tiny font on her prescription bottles, fixes the time on her clocks when the time changes.

Her glorified maintenance boy, and truthfully, Simon was more than happy to help. It felt good to be needed for something normal, so he replaced her light bulbs, drained her clogged sinks, fixed her lopsided wash machine with a smile.

Every Sunday morning, the same routine, tea and biscuits while she taught him how to crochet. It wasn’t exactly easy to hold the slender hooks in his thick fingers, but he could hold them steady long enough, zero his focus through a needle after years as a sniper. He was quite a patient person, and the stitching helped pass the days he was alone, numb his mind to nothing, but loop and thread.

Loop and thread.

It’s not like she was the only one benefiting from the agreement. It was quiet, peaceful, a much needed contrast to the draining and stressful occupation he put himself in. Most days he fell asleep in her recliner, always had her heater a little warmer than needed, the smell of pastries she was baking wafting from the kitchen. Made her living room entirely too comfortable, but she didn’t mind when he took naps, even if he was sure he snored like a bear.

Insisted he call her ‘Gran,’ even if she wasn’t his grandmother. Though, he supposed she acted like she was; baked him an abundance of pastries, always made more than enough dinner for two people. Gave him left overs for lunch— ‘a little lady like myself can’t finish it all alone, Simon.’

Plus, it led him to you.

There were days their conversations strayed to his relationship status. Single, of course, something Gran tried to change, dropping hints throughout their time together:

‘A young man like yourself should have a wife and kids by now, Simon!’

‘You sure are a handy man, you’ll make a great husband someday.’

‘You should meet my granddaughter, I think you two would get along swell.’

‘You know, my granddaughter can cook just as well. Taught her all my recipes.’

He always brushed it off; he wasn’t exactly looking to be in a relationship, but Gran was cunning, sneaky, and set the two of you up. Invited him over for dinner and to watch the football game on the telly one day. Except when he walked through her front door, calling for her, he saw your figure in the kitchen, adorned in an apron, covered in flour and sugar.

And well, he already called her ‘Gran,’ why not legally make her his grand-in-law?

[arminsumi]

ADULT STORE

↳ GETO すぐる + fem!reader

"Oh, see I told you... this product's a bit intense."

1.5k words

Pt. 2

Summary : product testing with the helpful employee at the adult store!

Warnings : minors do not read/interact : smut/explicit content : using toys, stranger/hookup sex, softdom!Geto, praise, cunnilingus, fingering, dirty talk, squirting, multiple orgasms, sex fantasy trope (sex with the adult store employee)

Note : i haven't made a trip to the adult store in ages bc... everything i want is so expensive lol (the struggle) 😭 i have some rlly funny adult store stories i could ramble about but i will refrain ✋ anyways, indulge yourselves in this fantasy, angels! 😈

Playme : wanna know what it's like?

The gate of the store buzzes, the employee watches you open it with a clink and enter the adult store. Your eyes flood with the overwhelming sight of wall-to-wall toys.

The smooth voice of the employee comes from behind the cash register.

"Yo."

Long hair. Dark, brooding look — almost gothic. Attractive hands with pronounced veins running over the back of them, poised on the countertop which he's lazing over.

He sees you and slowly straightens out his back out to impress you with his height.

"Ah, h-hello..."

He hears you stutter, and assumes it must be your first time in an adult store.

"First time? I mean, in an adult store, that is." he breaks the ice.

"Haha, y-yeah... yeah, it's my first time."

Yeah, that's what I thought.

He holds hard and deep eye contact with you. Yes, he's aware of how intensely he stares. He's doing it on purpose.

"Would you like some assistance, or do you just want to leisurely browse by yourself?"

His tone is so friendly, it doesn't let on to how heated his abdomen is getting at the sight of you.

"Yes, please, I'd appreciate your assistance."

Aw, of course.

"M'kay... then let me assist you."

He smoothly comes out from behind the counter and the two of you stand in front of a wall of toys.

"Overwhelmed?" he chuckles, noting how your eyes widen while looking at all the products. "I know there's a lot to choose from. But just focus on your needs. What do you need?"

"What do I need? Honestly, I have no idea what I need." you laugh nervously.

I know exactly what she needs...

"Well, why don't we carefully go through the products together? I'm sure I can figure out what you need. Promise I know my stuff. I've been working here for three years."

His nonchalance and professionalism puts you at ease. It's something he prides himself on: making customers feel relaxed.

Your eye catches on a pink dildo, so he takes it off the rack to show you up close.

"This one's good, it's got a ribbed design." he shows it off. "Are you looking for just penetration or clitoral stimulation?"

Aw, she's flustered.

"Uh, both I guess? Yeah. I'd love both."

Of course you'd love both. That's what you need, pretty girl.

"Both? Come over here. Let me show you something you might like."

There's a flirty tension between the two of you that just keeps getting more and more... intense.

He plucks a curvy vibrator. It looks expensive. Because it is expensive.

"This one's got ten functions—"

"—ten?! Sounds a bit extra."

"Nothing's too extra when it comes to your personal pleasure."

The two of you share a long look, then laugh.

"But it really is an excellent product."

"Are you advertising?" you joke teasingly.

"Absolutely." he jokes, "Kidding. I'm not trying to come across as a preachy marketer or something. I've used it with partners in the past, that's why I'm recommending it; I know it's good. It's a pretty intense toy. Helps girls squirt even if they think they can't."

I could make her squirt.

He's running his eyes up and down your body.

"Is that so...?" you mumble flirtatiously, eyeing out the product in his veiny, manly hands.

"Hm, still a skeptic? Because I'm sure I could please you."

He hopes that you note his deliberate use of 'I' and not 'it' there.

"Yeah. I'm sure you could please me, too." you flirt.

A heat erupts in his abdomen and stomach.

Oh wow... now she's really flirting, huh? Why'd I wear tight pants today of all days...

He has an unwavering gaze on you. You've captivated him. Put him in some kinda horny trance.

"Did I say me? Sorry. Slip of the tongue." he murmurs, voice dropping lower, "I meant the vibrator." he obviously lies.

You and him exchange a suggestive, longing look. You can feel your pussy clench around nothing, begging to get stuffed up and pleasured.

He hesitates before speaking again, as if he's scared of crossing a line and making you uncomfortable.

"If you want to... we could test it out together?" he suggests. His nonchalance is an act, really he's so nervous when he asks this.

"I'd love to..." you consent, and he doesn't miss the erotic excitement in your tone.

He nods towards the backdoor, eyes keeping on you and your cute little body that he just wants to feel and squeeze like a toy itself.

"Promise to keep your lips sealed about this? I don't wanna get fired for uh... you know... demonstrating products... to my pretty customer."

"Only if you promise to help me squirt for the first time."

Oh wow. Fuck. I'm hard.

His lips widen into a devilish grin. "Sure thing."

After a sloppy, desperate make out with this stranger, you find yourself sat on the couch in the breakroom. Door locked. Blinds shuttered closed. Legs spread wide to his liking, as he cushions the vibrator into your plush slit.

He's rubbing it slowly up and down your folds. He watches your reactions intently, breathing heavier at the sight of your pussy squishing under the pink dildo. The buzzing sound fills the room, but your moans are louder.

He clutches the toy gently, massaging the bulbous head into your clit with sweeping circular motions.

"F-fuck... that pretty clit feels good, doesn't it? Yeah? Let's get it feeling even better."

He turns it up a notch. It buzzes harder against your sensitive nub.

"How's that? Haha, yeah, intense, isn't it?

"Yeahhh — Fuck! Ohhh that's so good, that's so — oh my goddd fuckkk. S-sorry I think... I'm gonna cummm — !!"

"It's okay. Cum as hard as you can, yeah? I want you to get a good idea of how well this toy can pleasure you before you buy it, after all. Oh there we go... just let go and... f-fuck... wow... j-just cum like that. Fuck... that pretty clit feels so good now, huh? Gonna cum? Gonna cum for me, with a vibrator on your cunt?"

He takes note of your reaction to his dirty talk and smirks. Then he slyly turns the toy's setting higher and it buzzes more intensely, and in one... two... three... seconds, you're squirting like crazy all over the pink vibrator and his hand.

Holy shit, look at that pretty pussy gushing... she could drench my dick. I wanna be inside her so fucking baddd...

"Oh, see I told you... this product's a bit intense." he regains his professional tone after you cum.

He turns the toy off and watches you come down from your shaking orgasm, smug look on his face. He keeps it clutched in his veiny hand, and brings it up to his lips to suck and lick up all your juices from it.

She tastes so fucking good... I feel dizzy.

You watch him with wide eyes as he tastes your slick off the toy.

"F-fuck... wh-what did you s-s-say your name was again?" you stutter, starstruck by this stranger.

You're so fucking dizzy, your pussy is buzzing like it still feels the intensity of the toy against it.

"Hm, wanna know my name?" he smiles teasingly, "How about you cum on my face and then I'll tell you."

"Fuck, okay."

And then as soon as you give him permission, he's hungrily diving between your thighs.

"Oh my god..." he loves how you gasp and writhe under the influence of his mouth.

Let's see how fucked-out I can get her. Wanna see her lose her mind 'cause of me.

His lips latch onto your labia and suckle, then onto your clit. He points his tongue at your clit, then oh my god flattens it and laps at your bud while suckling. His softness shows a hint to tenderness in his personality; he really knows how to treat a woman well.

This stranger spoils your pussy with his tongue and lips. He seems to be in his own little world while nosing between your thighs. He carelessly gets your juices smeared across his cheek and lets the rest dribble down his chin.

"Fuck fuck fuck — like that, like that. Don't stop don't stop — !! 'm gonna cum! G-gonna — fffffffucking cummmm ahhhhh — !!"

He flicks the tip of his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves, eager to make your pussy freak out on his mouth. Just before you cum he slips two fingers into your hole, middle and ring, and pumps them into a sweet spot hard. He just wants to get an idea of the feeling of your pussy when it cums.

Suckling at your clit, fingering you with nice hard rough strokes, closing his eyes like he's the one enjoying it meanwhile he's silent and you're moaning like you're going insane. He can tell you're close and speeds it up.

"Cum cum cum, cum for me. Just let go and cum." he sounds so desperate, and that professional tone of his is finally cracking. "Cum on my fucking face, please."

And he dives his tongue right back into your hole, wriggling his tongue around, resulting in the nastiest wet squelching sound. His lips press flat against your pussy, he draws in a deep breath and your heat is all he smells.

Please cum on my face. Please please please.

"Ah! Fuck! Fuckkkk!"

You gush right on his lips, which are plump and swollen and red and glistening with your slick.

He pulls away and licks his lips and tells you his name.

"Suguru, by the way. My name's Suguru. Hey... can I give you my number?"

Oh he's so smooth. But he's even smoother at the checkout, when he asks if you're free this Friday for a date. At his apartment. With the company of some of his favorite toys.

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

[sassatoru]

“Gonna fill you up, till you’re round with my baby.”

This prompt for Dick having baby fever with his fem!reader after seeing her taking good care of Damian (giving him praises and cookies for example).

Please and thank you!

pairing. dick grayson x reader

warning. smut

a/n. here you go anon

prompts used. “gonna fill you up, till you’re round with my baby.”

seeing you with damian was normal. the young boy saw you and dick as his paternal figures not that he’d admit it. but to see you doting over the boy. he’d ‘ran’ away from home — you’d already called bruce to tell him where damian is — and to your shared apartment.

first it started with the way you worried when he showed up at your door, a bag swung over his shoulder and his scowl set on his face.

“damian?” you stared down at the boy confused, looking around the hall way where all the other flats and the elevator could be seen.

“what’s wrong? are you okay?” your confusion switched to worry almost immediately when the boy hugged you, your arms moving around him to hug him back, gently rubbing his head.

“can i stay with you and grayson?” he mumbled.

“babe? who’s at the door—” dick’s voice trailed off when he saw damian holding onto you for dear life.

“what happened?” dick asks, the worry in his eyes matching yours.

“he needs to stay over tonight,” you murmur, glancing at dick with those puppy eyes of yours that he can’t say no to. he wanted to protest, remind you that tonight is his night off and date night but his heart flutters at the way damian clings to you like a boy would to his mother.

he doesn’t have the heart to say no, merely nodding. “sure baby, he can have the spare room.”

the next time he feels that same flutter of undistinguishable wanting is when you’re making damian late dinner for him, seeing as its midnight and you and dick were planning on a little fun tonight.

the way damian sits at the dining table, finishing his homework — because even if he’s staying here and his school is in gotham he’s still gotta keep up with school — and the way you make something quick that alfred taught you to make before sending damian off to bed.

he’s all over you after that, kissing at your neck, hands slipping under your shirt, you giggle before reminding him that his little brother is in the apartment so fun time is going to have to wait.

so he waits, a week before damian finally leaves, not that dick minds having his little brother around — lies. he does mind, he minds a lot, especially when your attention is being stolen from him.

but even that didn’t stop the way his heart fluttered with every moment you doted over like a mother would, and that’s when it clicked in his mind. he wanted a baby with you.

that’s how you got here. a week later after you’d dropped damian back to the manor, and when you came home you were talking to him about how you were concerned about damian overworking on patrols but he couldn’t hear a word over the hunger buzzing in his ears.

“mhm,” he hummed, head pressed into your neck as you rambled on. “baby, baby shhhh. lets forget about them for minute.”

“dick?” you mutter confused, his hands pressing warmly against your tummy.

“yes baby?” he asks.

“what’re you doing?” you ask.

“touching you, why? am i not allowed to touch my girl?” he replies, moving you towards the bedroom. “my pretty girl, yknow that?”

you hum in response, not sure what had come over him as he gently nudges you back onto the mattress to lay down. “i was thinking, honey. about you and me… and a little someone else.”

you catch the way his eyes drop to your stomach, his pupils blown out so much that his pretty blue eyes look different. “and who’s that?” you ask, urging him on.

“our baby.”

now that does surprise you, you and dick have never talked about having kids together, you’ve barely even talked about marriage but you know enough that he seems to like the idea of both those scenarios.

“our baby?” you question and he nods, a wide smile setting on his lips as he stares down at you hungrily.

“you’d look so pretty, honey. all round and full, full of me, of us. i’d take such good care of you too.”

your cheeks flush at the way he stares at you and the way the compliments leave his lips, like pure honey.

it doesn’t take much longer till you’re both completely bare, with you all spread out under him all fucked out as he ruts against you from behind.

he wasn’t shy with his noises, whining into your ear and groaning too. whispering praises that make you purr. “aw, look at you baby, all fucked and pretty for me to use. you want me to fill you up that bad huh?”

you nod eagerly, stomach fluttering as you spasm around him, face pressed into the pillows to bury your moaning, back arched so prettily it makes him want to never stop.

“good girl, my good girl. you like the sound of being a mommy huh?” he coos, fucking into you with no mercy, mind set of giving you a baby. a part of the two of you to love.

“that’s good ‘cause i’m gonna fill you up, till you’re round with my baby.”

© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off

[jensthwa]

we can't be friends (CS x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

San is your first love. He broke your heart and played with your feelings without even kissing you back when you two were in highschool. Now, many years later, you do your best to avoid crossing paths with him because there's just no way you could ever hate him, but there's also no way you two can be friends again. But his best friend is also one of your best friends, so there's only so much you can do to avoid San when he arranges a dinner you're forced to go to.

PAIRING: first love!choi san x afab reader.

GENRE: one shot (fluff, angst, smut)

WORD COUNT: 20k (yikes).

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, unnecesary pinning, a looot of context, bad friends :(, some arguing, tension, drinking and drunk behavior, tears, making out, description of female anatomy, oral (f reciving), fingering, love making, pet names (babe, baby), flirty seonghwa, wooyoung being a little shit again but also a genius, gyuri almost commiting a crime.

NOTES: hi everyone! this is a lenghty one, i know, but trust me when I say the context is necessary to understand what reader goes through with san. also, some of this may or may not have happened to me (have fun figuring out which part) (it's quite obvious tbh). THIS IS PART OF THE SHOW AND TELL UNIVERSE BUT CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE, even though there's some references and characters that you can only know if you read s&t lol. this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: august 06 2024.

permanent taglist: @hotteokkay, @potatomountain, @fairylover68

masterlist.

You and Choi San go way back. 

Well, it's nine years way back? You were only fourteen when you first saw him. 

He moved back to your area of the city a year after you moved from an entirely different one. You thought you knew every school secret there ever was, provided by your new best friend, Gyuri, but she didn't tell you about him at all. 

She claimed that it was because he didn't cause any stir the years they studied together before and after spending a whole first period in your eighth grade classroom with him at the back of the class, silently taking notes, you couldn't phantom why.

He was great at every subject, seemed to have a lot of popular friends and was, overall, a pretty nice guy. He was also very cute, skinny but you could tell he was the kind of guy who played a sport outside of school hours and he had a cute pair of dimples that showed everytime you scanned the classroom just to lay eyes on him. 

Choi San was a perfect boy to crush on, even a perfect guy just to have as eye candy during recess. You felt really strongly about him, not really forming a full opinion although your gut told you right away you were right. There was something about him… but you only figured that something until later, next year, starting your ninth grade. 

Gyuri and you were avid readers. Precocious girls, with minds way above your age. All your teachers praised came laced with the same compliment so you both decided that was the truth. You rejoiced in it, thinking you shared things in common with the grown ups and decided that that was the key to feeling a little superior in comparison to the rest of your classmates, who neither of you liked very much. 

Until they all decided to start dating each other and you two realized you were nothing but two kids with great imaginations and a love for school, praise and fictional men that couldn't be translated to the real world without sounding delusional and weird. 

So you decided to do something about it. And so, on a random Tuesday recess, you two scanned the crowd trying to find two boys (or a boy and a girl, because you always knew you liked girls too) worthy of your affections. One for her, one for you. Bonus points if the two of them were also best friends, of course. 

Double dates were all the buzz at the time anyways. 

Besides, only then they could understand the bond you and Gyuri had. Sisterhood like no other, nevermind Gyuri actually had an older sister and a niece at the ripe age of fifteen. 

And so when your index finger scanned the crowd and eliminated at least three potential crushes before landing on Choi San, you felt like it was meant to be. 

You see, his best friend, Jung Wooyoung, was perfect for Gyuri to crush on. He was almost as tall as she was at the time and his easy, outgoing personality was compatible with her book crush at the time as well. 

He also flirted with her on several occasions before that. 

So it was meant to be. 

Choi San, on the other hand, had never even glanced in your direction before. 

Just like your book crush did before he fell in love with the main character. 

See? Meant. To. Be. 

It was decided then that, although Choi San was not going to be your first crush ever, he was going to be the guy that motivated you to be at school for the time being, because math gets really boring after trying and failing at least ten times. 

You thought nothing of it when it felt a little forced, when you couldn't blush at all at the sight of him and you gathered that it didn't need to happen like in the books you read. You simply needed to say his name when someone asked you if you had a crush on anyone and that was enough to be in symphony with the rest of your classmates. 

Your longing glances were caught once or twice by him and you brushed the weird flip your stomach did everytime he looked away, blushing a little. You never really cared when it happened, really, knowing his crowd and your crowd (Gyuri and you) would never even cross paths in the first place. 

You two kept to yourselves and your little book unofficial book club, sitting on the floor at lunch time and cursing everyone who dared to call you weird for it. San and Wooyoung had a crowd of people at the loudest table laughing with them over stupid teen jokes and, uh, sports? You didn't even know. 

And then the unimaginable happened. 

Jung Wooyoung sat down, criss cross applesauce and everything, in front of you on a random Monday afternoon while you and Gyuri discussed the english assignment due next period. 

Gyuri was not too excited about that. 

Turns out, the only one excited to have a crush at school was you. She was very much still in the Lonely Hearts Club phase while you skipped all the way to your The Notebook phase and she was, in her own words, too afraid to admit it when you came up with your crush plan. 

You forgave her, of course, and decided to wait for her as long as needed because you were certainly not about to be an individual and have a crush on your own. 

And by the time Wooyoung smiled at you both and introduced himself to you, like you weren't in the same class for a year already, you thought your pretend crush on his best friend evaporated and joined the void superficial and fleeting interests you had. 

But then Choi San sat beside him, his knee brushing against yours in the process, and you knew you would have to issue a formal apology to your best and only friend for leaving her behind on this little thing. 

Because, oh boy, were you crushing on Choi San. 

You felt the blush rush to your cheeks and then fell silent while your friend and his friend discussed Fifty Shades of Grey for some reason you never cared enough to discover and you knew you were done for.

It was the first time seeing his dimples in full action, so close to you, so you completely stopped functioning all together. Amazing. 

When you decided to have a crush, you never took into account that you were, actually, quite shy. And he really wasn't, but you noticed that he knew when to talk and what to say and with your friend being a lot more outgoing that you were it gave you the comfort that she would speak for the both of you while you admired from the sidelines as your little duo became a group of friends you still miss deeply to this day. 

He was funny and you laughed at your jokes even though you pretended to be tired and completely worn out by the school day, resting your head on Gyuri’s shoulder and stealing glances at the boy while she kept arguing with his best friend. 

Wooyoung was popular and liked enough to have a few people sit with you later that week, people who never even knew you existed before that. They were good friends with San as well, so you tried your best to keep up with everyone until she sat down next to you one day. 

Arin was not really a bad person. She just was a bit conceited, calling herself princess type of conceited and you never really related to her even if she was nice to you to your face. She was absolutely gorgeous and, you found out with Wooyoung’s arm around your shoulder and a whisper to your ear, she had been San’s crush since they were both in elementary school. 

That would explain the sudden tension at the table when she sat down next to you, said hello to everyone, offered you a sweet she just bought from the cafeteria, and stared at San for the remainder of lunch time. 

You also noticed Wooyoung glaring at her a little and he later explained to you that he didn't really like her all that much. She loved attention and San gave her attention, so she would intentionally flirt with him to get her ego stroked in return. 

It didn't really matter how he felt about the girl, though, he didn't have to like her just because his best friend did. And when you caught her batting her eyelashes at San, you knew you didn't even stand a chance.

You tried to hide the disappointed look on your face but both Gyuri and Wooyoung looked at you while the two of them flirted endlessly for the remainder of lunch time and you figured you were doing a pretty shitty job at it. He didn't glance at you once either way, so it didn't really matter. 

Arin did but she just complimented your eyes and then started a conversation with someone across the table, her annoying sweet and fake voice making your right ear ring in disapproval. 

Either way, you ended up becoming her friend. Gyuri was not very fond of her and neither were you, but you all went to the bathroom together, did your makeup together, did school projects together and then sat everyday at lunch together with the rest of the guys who were, in one way or another, trying to get her to like them. 

Because, once again, she was a sight for sore eyes. 

It wasn't until later, in the middle of the year, that one of them did. Not Choi San, but Choi Yeonjun. 

You remember the day you found out they were together and the gut wrenching concern you felt when you found out that San was not at school that day. 

It was after summer break, you remember Wooyoung telling you that San and his family took a few more days of vacation and if you couldn't believe your eyes when you saw the new couple sharing a sweet kiss at the designated lunch table, you could only imagine how San felt the next day when he saw the same image right in front of him. 

Yeonjun was his friend, right? He knew about his crush and decided to get together with her anyways. Surely, San was devastated. 

But he wasn't. He just cheered them on and then laughed along when Yeonjun shoved his arm playfully after the hollering. 

But you saw through it. 

Your crush on San made you observant. Made you believe you knew him better than everyone else and so, after lunch, you took out your phone and pulled up the notes app. Writing a simple “are you okay?” in it and passing it to him the next second, you were surprised with yourself before you saw him frown a bit. And then he understood what you meant. 

Nodding, he passed you the phone back, before giving you a reassuring smile that you treasured in your heart and saw in your dreams. 

You didn't believe him, though, but stayed close enough to everything related to the situation to hold Arin in your arms when Yeonjun inevitably broke her heart. 

Starting your tenth year, he moved back to his city and decided to play the I thought we weren't even that serious card on her. Which was nasty, considering love it's very, very serious for a sixteen year old girl. 

By this point, you were all a little family and hanging out after school and on the weekends was not unusual, so it didn't surprise you when Arin invited you, and only you, to her house after choir practice on a Thursday. 

She lent you her older sister’s clothes to wear (because her's would never fit you. Her words, not yours) and took you to a walk in the park just to break your heart for the first time ever. 

“You know… I thought love was something I couldn't find in highschool anymore. But San it's really making an effort, you know? He's been there for me ever since Yeonjun left and… Well, I think he's going to ask me to be his girlfriend tomorrow.” 

Grasping the park bench she forced you to sit at, you only nodded and let out a shuddering breath that gave away what she was trying to figure out since earlier that day. 

“I'll say yes but only if you say it's okay to do so.” 

Arin was not really your friend, the same way Yeonjun was not really San’s friend. 

Because there's no way you would ever be okay with it. 

And yet, you tried your best to give her a smile and pretend the sound of your heart breaking didn't bring tears to your eyes “Of course it's okay. Why wouldn't it be?” 

A week later, they were officially dating. The rumors spread around like a wildfire and it took out of you with everyone calling San a nasty rebound and you doing your best to prioritize the ghost of the friendship you had with him. That whole fiasco lasted a few months. 

Months in which your friendship with everyone just grew stronger. Gyuri was still your best friend, Wooyoung was crushing on her hard and everyone knew, Arin and San were a steady couple, a new girl joined your class that year, named Yeri, and the principal assigned her to you because she thought you two would get along really well. 

“I like girls,” was like, the third thing she ever told you while you were showing her the school “I'm just telling you now because I don't plan on hiding it and you are wearing a pride pin.” 

“Oh, that's cool. I like girls too,” you smiled, looking at your pride pin “I didn't hide it either and no one gave me shit about it, so, don't worry.” 

Yeri also liked the mainstream music that you liked and soon she became a new addition to your group. And with Arin spending all of her free time with San, you, Gyuri and Yeri only grew closer and closer. You didn't have Arin’s voice in your ear telling you the million reasons she found Yeri uncool, but you saw it in her face every time the table laughed at one of Yeri’s jokes. 

And so, it went on for a while: 

Your mom driving all of you around in her car to the beach, to dinner, to the movies and letting you have mixed sleepovers at your house (meaning you, Arin, Gyuri, Wooyoung, Yeri and San) was fun and all, but it was not enough to distract yourself entirely. Everytime you glanced at the couple, that sinking feeling in your chest would appear and sulk your whole mood for, at least, fifteen minutes.  

Fifteen minutes of pretending you were okay with them before forgetting completely for an hour or so and then the cycle would repeat until you were alone staring at the ceiling and doing your best to not cry about it.

All it took was your first kiss being Yeri of all people for you to decide that it was time to retire your crush for Choi San once and for all. 

And for a while, it all went according to plan. You decided to tell Gyuri that it was okay because he was your friend first and the guy that you liked second and that you were not fourteen and desperate for love anymore, that it was time to go on with your life as if nothing really happened in the first place. 

You were hooking up with Yeri anyways, so it seemed like you were doing just fine. 

You grew closer to San as well and even though he mostly talked to you about Arin and whatever tantrum she was throwing at the time, you really started to feel some sense of normalcy within you when it came to just speaking to him. 

You no longer blushed when he made you laugh, you no longer looked at him with the longing of a past life lover and you were really happy for him because, at the end of the day, he was really happy with his relationship. 

Until winter break came around and Arin decided to give San his first heartbreak ever. 

She decided to call for a break in their relationship because she was, in his words, too overwhelmed with the amount of love and attention she was getting from him. 

Which was completely fucking insane considering the fact she forced him to save her contact as Princess Arin and all. 

So naturally, you sided with him. And she didn't take it to heart because everyone knew you liked San anyways. 

She told you the news herself through Facebook after asking you to explain to her the English assignment due next day and then she decided to tell you something you'll never understand because you no longer are on speaking terms with her: 

Princess Arin: u know i broke up with him because of u right? :) 

Princess Arin: one day I'll tell u all abt it. 

She never told you anything about it. And by then, you were starting your last year and San was your best friend who hung out with you everyday after school, calling you late at night and helping you with assignments through Skype. So you didn't really care. 

And as the day passed, you started understanding the connection they talked about in books and movies. You thought you did before, Gyuri being your eternal person in this world, but it felt so different with San. 

Different and good. Different and achy enough for you to want to keep it in your life. 

Your dynamic was friendly, sure, but it was alright. It consisted of banter and daring stares as well as laughter and soft moments you treasured till this day. 

“It's way too early to be this annoying, Choi San.” 

“Oh, you think this is me being annoying?”

You both got an hour of detention for disturbing the class that day. 

You loved it. 

But then, after almost a month of picking up the broken pieces of his heart one by one, and your mother giving him a self-help book to make him regain the confidence he lost during the breakup process, you realized that you were in love with him and there was nothing you could do about that. 

You noticed one friday afternoon, when he offered to pay for your and your mom's ice cream at the drive through, when he scrambled to get all the change he had on him to leave a tip for the person who handed you guys the sweet treat, that there was no way you didn't love him. 

And it was confusing as fuck when everyone else started to tell you he had feelings for you as well. 

“Think about it. You text each other good morning everyday” Yeri listed with her finger and you nodded “Then, you go to school, sit together and spend the rest of the day together” another nod “Then after school you either go get ice cream together or hang out for a bit with your mom while she drives him home. And after that, you get on Skype for the reminder of the afternoon and then he calls you on your house phone and you two spend the rest of the night talking before falling asleep on the line together,” she looked at you like you were insane for even denying the accusations made against San, but she continued anyway “And then it's rinse and repeat and it has been that way since… What? Three months ago?” 

You nodded again, defeated. 

“Girl, he likes you.” she sighed, annoyed and a little tired, before sitting on your lap and kissing your lips affectionately “And you're here making out with me instead of him. You really are a lost cause.”

That didn't stop you from hooking up with her until she found a girl who's heart was not reserved for someone else, though. Said girl went to a different school and was a year younger than all of you, but she looked very happy and stopped secretly kissing you in the school bathroom like a week after they met. 

And when she finally told everyone, you were really happy for her, but San not so much. 

It was the night you thought everything was about to change. The night you thought he was about to kiss you or you were about to kiss him, whatever happened first. 

Laying in your bed, facing each other in the dim light, he thought it was the biggest form of betrayal and pouted the whole time he explained to you why. 

He thought you liked her and you realized he didn't really pay attention to you after all. Not the way you did with him. 

Bless his heart. 

You didn't kiss him that night because he wouldn't shut up about you and Yeri. 

“I mean, why couldn't it be you? She clearly liked you if you two were hooking up for over a year” and when his hand came to rest on your back, under your shirt, you breath hitched enough for him to notice it but not enough for him to just don't do anything about it except trace the curve of your silhouette with the pad of his thumb “I don't understand why anyone would pass the opportunity to be with you.” 

Huh. Maybe he did have feelings for you. 

No. He's just being a great best friend. Don't take that for granted. 

But it was impossible for you not to take Yeri’s words seriously as time went on. 

You didn't want to think he was giving you mixed signals, but yet again there was that one time when you reached behind your passenger seat in your mothers car to pinch his leg playfully after he pulled on your hair a little bit from behind, only to end up holding his hand the rest of the car trip to his house. 

His fingers slowly caressing the back of your hand were just too much for you not to get everything mixed up. 

Or that other time when your school held a Woman's Day event, and your class president decided that all the boys in the class were going to give roses to the girls.

When it was your turn to get a rose, you knew no one would give you one. But Yeri stood in line and collected a rose from the bin before the class president had the opportunity to say anything else. 

“I'll take that, thank you very much.” She turned to you, smiling. San blocked her way to you a second after. 

“And just what do you think you're doing?” 

“Giving my best girl a rose, of course.” She peeked around him, giving you a wink that you could only roll your eyes to. 

San turned to you, the fondness in his eyes making you question the decision of not pretending to be sick that day. It was too much for you to handle. 

“To the back of the line, then. I already called dibs on her,” he turned to your friend, snatching the rose from her hand in one swift move “I'll take that, thank you very much.” 

He had no idea what that meant to you back then. It was true that, at school, he behaved a little differently than when you two were alone. 

He was athletic, so he had some friends that you were sure used to ask him what the fuck was he doing wasting his time with a girl like you instead of getting a new girlfriend. 

He had a family that didn't approve of yours, too. You felt it the first time you met his mom and, even though she was nice to you and your mom, you could feel the judgemental stare she gave both of you when your mom told her she was a single parent. 

San told you that it didn't really matter, that his mom didn't have to like you because you weren't her friend, you were his. 

He played with your feelings a little too well. Wanting him, adoring him and letting yourself be consumed by the thought of him loving you back was enough to keep it going. To ignore the fluttering way your heart kept beating whenever he talked to you which was all the time. 

You assumed the way he behaved with you in private was the real him. The one who didn't care about appearances or his family approval. 

The one who cared about you. 

It was dizzying and fantastic and you thought he just might've been the love of your life. 

But then he would tell you how much it hurted when he saw Arin at school and how much he missed her, the intimacy they shared before, and reality would come crashing down and setting your delusions on fire again. 

He had sex with Arin. You would never stand a chance. 

Or so you thought he did. Except when you overheard Arin speaking to her friends and that was the first time you ever got mad at Choi San.

“And, you know, me and San were never intimate like that so I wouldn't know but I think boys have no idea how to please a woman if they tried to.” 

What? 

Oh. So he lied to you. 

And you were so upset by the thought of him making up stories of their intimate time together that it didn't even cross your mind that Arin might've been lying to save face. 

So when he came back from the bathroom and sat at his usual desk in front of you, you didn't even think about his feelings when you decided to treat him like shit for lying about something so important like sex to your face. 

“Leave me alone, San! I don't want to fucking talk to you right now!” 

The hurt expression he gave you after that is one you would never be able to forget. 

But you grew to be stubborn and a little overprotective of your own feelings, so you thought him playing the part of your best friend all these months and sweet talking to you was just another one of his lies. 

“You guys not being friends right now doesn't make any fucking sense, sweetheart.” Wooyoung's tone is careful and laced with affection, but you knew he was playing the devil's advocate on behalf of San. With his arm around Gyuri’s shoulder (by that point, they were a thing for over two months) you could swear you saw him smirk when the nickname brought a scowl to your face. 

He might've been worried, but he was also a little shit. 

“You really are going to let Arin ruin what you two have?” Your best friend was, of course, on your side. But she was your best friend for a reason and her love included pointing out when you were behaving like an infant at the age of seventeen and a half. 

“You two are practically dating and you're going to let the evil ex-girlfriend get in the way? Over something you weren't even supposed to hear in the first place? Come on.” 

Again, Wooyoung was a little shit. And you were so upset about everything that you shyness couldn't even help the fury behind your reply: 

“Stop saying that! We are not practically dating, he's in love with Arin and I'm not sure I even like him like that anymore!” Getting tired of everyone and their mother (your mother) feeding your delusions, you came to the conclusion that putting a stop to your friendship with Choi San was for the best. 

And, in doing so, you ended up breaking your own heart for the second time in your life. 

But he didn't put up an easy fight at all. You remember the feeling of pure joy when he grabbed your hand on the way to the cafeteria one day, pulling you so hard you almost ended up sitting in his lap, and the way his pleading eyes begged you to listen to him one last time. 

“Us not being friends doesn't feel right, Y/N…” he said and the word he used to categorize what both of you had hurted you, but you pushed the feeling away “Please, let's not fight anymore. I don't even know what happened, but I forgive you for yelling at me and I hope you forgive me for whatever it is you think I did.” 

Of course, you forgave him the next second without thinking too much about it. And for a while, everything went back to normal. You Skyped as usual and occasionally you let your other friends join the call even though it didn't really feel like it used to before. 

The next thing you knew, your feelings were in full bloom again and when you realized it, it was too late. 

Because by then, you had already let your childhood friend, Sunhee, join a few Skype calls and by the fourth one she invited her friend, Minseo, to them as well. 

Terrible, terrible mistake. Because even through the screen, you could see that Minseo looked a lot like Arin with the added bonus that she was down to earth and cool and liked the same things San liked.

You liked the same things San liked as well, but it never seemed to matter. 

Because not even two months after you decided to stop talking to San over a lie you weren't supposed to find out in the first place and then became friends one more time, he gets together with Minseo and you're sick to your stomach all over again. 

You hated her. Not because she was, suddenly, his girlfriend (not girlfriend girlfriend, but in a friends with benefits arrangement you never even knew why he agreed on in the first place) but because suddenly she was so fucking obnoxious and didn't seem to like you either. 

Was it not painfully obvious San didn't have feelings for you? Why was she mad at you then? You literally brought them together! 

And all you got in return was her telling him she didn't feel comfortable with him having a girl best friend. That ungrateful bitch. 

He stopped calling. He stopped texting, he stopped carpooling with you and your mom after school and he stopped caring whether your math assignment was done or not. 

He stared pulling away more and more and it didn't matter how hard you tried to get him to talk to you, it seemed like he never really fucking cared about you in the first place. 

And by may that year, you didn't speak to San anymore. Granted, the only person he did speak to was Wooyoung, but even their friendship was falling apart. 

For the first time ever, San broke your heart firsthand. And it felt really, really fucking bad. 

You cried to your mom about it, she reminded you that you were nothing but a great friend to him and that, if he didn't take the time to appreciate that, that was his loss not yours. 

And she started hating him from that moment on. But you couldn't hate San, not even a little bit. 

Why would you hate him for not liking you back? For not loving you the way you loved hi— 

Your laptop closes down right in front of you and when you try to look up to find out who's responsible for interrupting your writing time, you get interrupted again. 

“Ouch! What the fuck, Gyuri?” The slap to the back of your head is quick and filled with rage. 

“What the fuck are you even writing. I can read from here, you know?” 

“I'm just laying my feelings down and— Ouch! Stop that!” You try to hit her back but she turns away quickly when your hands almost knock her coffee mug out of hers. 

“You can't possibly still have love for San, Y/N. It's been years.”

It's been four and a half, to be precise. But who's counting, right? 

“And why are you writing it in third person? You don't usually do that.” 

“I don't really know, Gyuri!” 

“I’m telling you, this celebratory dinner bullshit it's affecting you way more than it should,” she sighs, plopping down on the couch of your shared living room, and you leave your seat at the table to join her “He might not even show up. He has that thing with Kyungmi.” 

Kyungmi. 

You couldn't get to that part on your open document, but San left Minseo when he met Kyungmi at one of the frat parties they love to attend. Wooyoung told you that he said that it was love at first sight and you even met her briefly when you picked Gyuri up from the apartment he and San got when they started college together. 

She’s gorgeous and doesn't look like Arin or Minseo at all. It’s a different type of gorgeous. She's a year older than San and went to the same school as them and Gyuri. 

You think you might even like her better than him. 

You tried to be happy for San when you found out, but you two barely even speak a word to each other and you convinced yourself a while ago that you couldn't care less if he sees right through you and your fake smiles. 

You gathered, after everything happened, that San knew you liked him and took advantage of that. Unintentionally, but he did anyway. 

You sigh, resting your head on your best friend's shoulder. “It’s his best friend's celebratory dinner, though, he needs to be there.” 

Two seconds pass and then you both say it at the same time: “He’s in love.” 

And when San is in love, he has a one track mind with the name of his lover as the goal. 

You nod, but you can't help but to be insistent “It's Wooyoung's celebratory dinner, he needs to show up, right?” 

“I might not even show up, he's a pain in the ass.” She replies but you can tell her annoyance is not genuine and it makes you smile. 

Gyuri and Wooyoung broke up towards the end of your first year of college but you all stayed close friends. A one year relationship was not enough to fuck up the friendship they had and they decided to stay civil until, eventually, they became close friends again. 

To this day, you wonder why you and San couldn't rekindle your friendship when it became clear to you that you missed your friend and not the guy that you liked. 

Because San was always your friend first and your first love second. 

But it doesn't really matter anymore, because Gyuri is forcing you to shower and reminding you that you two need to keep Wooyoung on his best behavior tonight. 

“That girl he used to like before me is going, he said. I looked her up, she's single and he needs to get together with her because I can't take him whining about it anymore.” 

They keep things with each other way too civil, you think. 

“I'm telling you, if we don't show up he's going to do that thing where he gets drunk and makes a fool of himself. I can't have that, I'm on a mission.” 

“A mission to get your ex laid?” You ask, shampooing your hair. 

“A mission to get him a girlfriend so he can stop crying to me about feeling lonely.” 

“Maybe he wants you guys to—” The shower curtain opens and you see your best friend’s scowl before covering yourself up with your hands. 

“Gyuri!”

“Don't you dare say what you were about to say or I'm divorcing you.” 

You chuckle “Sure you are.”

You're left alone again with the water stream and she goes back to do her makeup “I told you back in ninth grade that we weren't a great fit and I was right. We can't get back together,” she sighs “It'll ruin everything.” 

“I doubt it will but you guys have been friends longer than you were boyfriend and girlfriend, so I'll just have to deal with my parents being divorced and civil.” 

“God, don't ever refer to us like that again— Oh! Speaking of parents,” you see her beam at her phone when you move the shower curtain to search for your towel and then she shows it to you “Mingi and Love just celebrated their one year anniversary!” 

Love being Mingi’s best friend. Gyuri talks to you about her college friend group all the time. The drama fuels your dinner conversations, you even follow a few of them on social media. 

“What does that have to do with parents?”

“They're the mom and dad of the group.” 

San is in that friend group, you can see him in the back of the picture and you recognize his apartment layout too. He's not the main focus of it but he's all you can see until you notice the couple sitting near him on the couch. 

The picture shows both of them, her in his lap and Mingi looking at her with stars in his eyes. 

Good for them. 

“Is that the girl he was friends with forever before they finally realized that they were in love?” 

“Yeah,” she sighs in contempt, looking down at the picture again “I was there the day it happened. I mean, not physically with them, but they left Yunho's party together and I told Wooyoung that it was finally about to happen!”

Gyuri is not a romantic person at all. Her excitement shows you that she really loves them and so you soften at the news that would usually give you and your dry love life a headache “It was the day before you called me to get you out of that awful date.” 

Ah, that also happened back then. You shudder at the memory.

“Tell them I say congrats, babe.” 

“I'm bringing you as my plus one.” 

You laugh, confused “To where?” 

“Their wedding, duh.” 

“They practically just got together,” you remind her, a year is not enough time to propose “And I don't really know them, Gyuri!” 

“They love you,” she assures you as you step out of the shower “I have been speaking about your antisocial ass for years. They can't wait to meet you.” 

“So you've been shit talking behind my back for years? Is that what I'm hearing?” 

She laughs “No, babe, that's Wooyoung's job.” 

Clearing your throat and looking at your friend through the mirror, you try to be as nonchalant as you can when you ask: “Has he… Did he tell you if…” 

“No, Y/N, I have no clue if San is going or not and Wooyoung is actually mad at him at the moment.” 

“Why?” 

She looks at you, sighing “He's been lacking as a friend lately.” 

“Hm.” 

“I hope you're not planning on swooning if you see him. Fuck him, Y/N.” 

“I know…” 

“And by fuck him I mean he doesn't deserve you or your forgiveness.” 

“He didn't do anything to me, Gyuri,” you remind her, shrugging “Not reciprocating my feelings is not a crime so I don't have to forgive him for anything.” 

You can practically feel her starting the San hate train engine, so you step out of the bathroom but her voice follows you. 

“And what about that time he ditched you for Minseo when you asked him to go with you to that medical appointment, huh?” 

“Cut it out, Gyuri…” 

But her head peaks around the corner, into the hall where you're rushing towards your room “Or that time when—” 

“Can't hear you!” Turning to look at her, she gives you an affectionate middle finger and heads back to the bathroom.

Closing the door, you lean into the thin wood and sigh, getting San’s face out of your mind so you can focus on getting ready and actually show up for Wooyoung and Wooyoung only. 

He just got a permanent position after completing his internship at a company that's your company's rival. He's going to crush you and steal clients from you but you are genuinely so happy for him. 

You should've guessed he enjoyed books as much as you did back in highschool. The debates he used to have with Gyuri were not all about flirting with her but also because he has a passion for books. 

And now he's going to work in the same field as you.

You're so proud of your friend. 

As you get ready, you remember the excitement cruising through your body when your boss trusted you enough to give you the first manuscript of a new client so you could edit it. You're sure Wooyoung is going to do better than you, taking into account that he actually went to college for this. 

You didn't. 

You met your boss at the part-time job you got in senior year, when you were trying to distract yourself from all the pain and the horrors of becoming a grown up. She was chatty, got a little too drunk on soju and told you she was starting her own book publishing company. 

When she returned months later after remembering that you told her you loved books and would love to work for as a publisher one day, she offered you a job in her company right after graduating highschool. 

You took it because you didn't think an opportunity like this would show up ever again. 

She was truly a blessing, the kind of person you never really believed in until she taught you all you needed to know about publishing and editing and encouraged you to take online classes during the nights so you could get, at least, a certification on what you do. 

You're proud of yourself too. The opportunity found you in a specific moment of your life where both your heart and your self esteem were destroyed and now you're not the person you used to be. 

Maybe that's why the possibility of facing San makes you so nervous. Collective memories are dangerous because the details never match the ones on the other person's head. 

You know who you were back then but… Are you the same person in San’s head? 

You don't even want to find out. 

Scanning your outfit in the mirror for the last time, you take the shoes you're wearing tonight out of your closet and walk over to the living room. 

Only to find Gyuri laying on the carpet under the coffee table, half dressed and on her phone. 

“You're going to mess up your hair.” 

“I don't care, I'm not going.” 

Sighing, you sit down on the couch and staring at the wood of the table covering her face. 

“What happened now?” 

“The bitch canceled!” 

“Wooyoung?” 

Poking her head out, she frowns at you “No, his first love.” 

“You were his first love.” 

“You know what I'm talking about, Y/N!” 

Laughing at her, you offer her your hand “Get dressed. Who cares if she's not going? He's not going to sulk because he's going to have you and his best friends there.” 

She whines like a child when you pull her up from the floor “I had a plan!” 

“Then make a new one, babe. We're going to be late.” 

She starts to whine again but then stops mid-groan to give you a once over. You shift uncomfortably on your feet, suddenly self-conscious about your appearance for the first time in years. 

“You look really hot…” she tells you and you fake gag at her words “Really pretty. Like a fairy and a smoke show at the same time.” 

You can't possibly look like that when you have such a simple outfit on, floor length high waist black pants and a flowy sleeve top that ties in the middle. It's barely formal but now you're thinking too hard about it. 

Blushing, you wave your hand to dismiss her compliment “Oh, my god. Go and change!” 

She rushes to her room on the opposite end of the hall and you finally breathe, looking down at your choice of fit and wondering if it's too much. 

Gyuri would've told you if that's the case, but either way it haunts your mind in the car on the way there, leg bouncing up and down under your best friend's judging gaze that only softens when you pout at her. 

“They are going to love you, babe. I'm so serious, they've been waiting years to meet you.” 

You nod because, yes, you're concerned that her friend group is not all as welcoming as she paints them to be. 

And you wish your doubts would go away but you're really, really not good at making friends. You're cautious, extremely closed off to new people and not as good with conversation no matter how much confidence you gained over the past years. 

When you walk to the loudest table at the laid back restaurant their friend Seonghwa made the reservation at, you think you won't be able to fit in with everyone else. You feel like an intruder, like Gyuri is supposed to enjoy this part of her life without you here. 

That's why you rejected every invitation they ever made. 

You celebrate birthdays with her, with Woo as well, but it's all very intimate and separate from their social circle, the one that includes the man you haven't fully faced in years. 

But you can't exactly back out now, not when one of them turns to you and seems to light up when they see you. 

“Oh? Is this her?” you recognize Hongjoong from pictures, he's the only one facing you when you approach the table, lowkey hiding behind Gyuri like a child. 

“Who?” 

“Huh?”

San is nowhere to be seen. Thank god. 

Slowly, everyone turns around and you see their faces light up with both delight and surprise. Your heart is pounding, you feel it in your throat, in your eyes, in the heat that colors your cheeks. 

But Gyuri just steps aside and presents you with a smile “This is her!” 

“Oh, Y/N!” Wooyoung gets up, rushing towards you and crashing into your frame with a crushing hug “I'm so glad you're here,” he murmurs into your hair and then turns to his friends, quiet them down “Everyone, this is Y/N, one of my best friends in the entire world.” 

He's such a dramatic human being.

You love him so much. 

Raising your hand, you shyly wave at them “Hi.” 

The entire table erupts with joy. Some of them greet you, some of them are saying that they are happy to be finally meeting you and Wooyoung grabs your arm and plops you down into the seat next to Gyuri, at the edge of the table. 

Laughing, you apologize for not meeting them sooner and then you feel a pair of hands on your shoulders. 

Panic raising, you quickly turn around to see who it is before releasing a shuddering, but calmer, breath. 

“She's a very busy woman, guys. She works for the competition, my competition,” everyone gasps at that but Wooyoung is smiling at you “and she's very good at what she does. Which means she's busy, get off her case,” he puts a glass and a can of beer in front of you “Drink, babe.” 

“Thanks, babe.” You whisper back and he leans in to peck your head before going away. 

Gyuri groans “Stop stealing that from us! It's our thing, Y/N, don't indulge him.” 

“It's his celebratory dinner…” you argue with a laugh that Hongjoong and Mingi follow. 

“Yeah! Can you get off my case tonight, Gyuri?” 

She huffs, wrapping her arms around you “I hate you all.” 

“No you don't!” 

The table laughs and everyone returns to their individual conversations when Woo sits down on his spot. 

There's a few seats left, one besides Mingi and one right in front of you but you don't think too much about it because soon Gyuri gets up to ask Yeosang something and Seonghwa occupies her seat right beside you. 

You think he can sense that you're more shy than you let on, because he doesn't include you in whatever he and Yunho were talking about and waits until he stops talking to him to turn to you. 

“So, you work for a publishing company?” 

The question catches you off guard and you swallow the beer quickly before nodding “Y-yeah, I… Yeah.” 

He chuckles “You're nervous.” 

“I'm just not as good at meeting people as Gyuri is. She usually does the job and I tag along.” 

“I feel like I know you already, though.” He says, leaning back on his chair. 

“Because she talks a lot about me?” he nods “Yeah, she tends to do that.” 

“Wooyoung also talks a lot about you, San too… Sometimes,” your cheeks heat up and he misinterprets what it means “All good things, I promise.” 

You doubt that. 

Your brain gives you a hundred and one possible things San could've said about you. 

For some reason, none of them are good. But you choose to believe the gorgeous, long haired guy in front of you. 

“Well that's good to hear,” you take another sip of your drink before smiling at him “I was sure Woo was trash talking about me.” 

He shakes his head with a smile “He wouldn't dare, he has Gyuri on his ass all the time and I'm sure she would kill him.” 

“I'm sure she would kill him even if he didn't do it.” 

His smile grows wider “That's true,” he says, looking over at them who are, very coincidentally, fighting about something. You let out a sigh and he laughs again before clearing his throat “So, the publishing company. What kind of books do you like to edit the most?” 

Your smile grows wider too. 

For the next hour, you talk to Seonghwa about your job and how you started in it. He asks you about your classes and the challenges that you face on a daily basis and Wooyoung overhears and ends up joining the conversation as well.

You don't even hear footsteps nearing until a voice cuts everyone off. 

“I'm sorry I'm late!” 

“Baby!” Mingi gets up from his seat, but no one else does so he's stuck between the table and his girlfriend. 

“Oh, that's Love, huh?” you ask Seonghwa, Wooyoung too entertained messing with the couple to hear you anyways. 

“Yeah… Is that how Gyuri refers to her?” He frowns.

“Mhm,” you answer, leaning into him like you're about to tell him an important secret “I'm not supposed to call her that, don't tell her.” 

Seonghwa leans in too, pretending to zip his mouth shut and you laugh. 

The girl wiggles her way into the seat reserved for her and everyone lets out a groan when they smooch each other. You can only giggle and the sound draws her attention to you “Y/N?” 

You quickly nod “Yeah, hi, nice to meet you.” 

“Nice to meet you! Finally, I thought Wooyoung and Gyuri had an imaginary friend,” you laugh, shrugging at the joke “Love your outfit, by the way, are those— Oh, San, hi— Are those jellyfish?” 

You want to answer. You truly do, the yes right at the tip of your tongue, but words leave you when you turn your head around and find San already looking at you with wide eyes.

He looks great, he's a bit more muscular than what the pictures show and than the last time that you saw him, his arms hugging the fabric of the dress shirt he's wearing like it was tailored for him and everything. 

How dare he. 

You wonder if his heart is beating as loud as yours is right now. If he's surprised, disappointed or happy to see you at all. 

“Her favorite animal.” He answers for you “Hi, Y/N.” 

“Hi…” you whisper back and it feels like you're in a trance. He doesn't look away but the table quieting down once again snaps you out of it and you turn to the girl with a wide smile that you hope conceals whatever the fuck you're feeling at the moment “I love jellyfishes. Had a phase as a child when I would exclusively talk about them, too,” you chuckle, nervously, reaching for your earrings instinctively “Gyuri gave them to me as a present last Christmas.” 

You definitely overshared just now. From the corner of your eye you catch your best friend getting ready to step in if needed. 

Love looks at you, then at San (who's just standing next to you without uttering a word) and then back at you again, smiling like she just figured something out “Well, I love them.” 

“Thanks…” 

Coughing unnecessarily loud, Wooyoung gets up from his seat “You're late.” 

It takes a second but San tears his gaze away from you to look at his best friend and you take the opportunity to chug down the rest of your beer “Sorry, something came up.” 

Seonghwa turns at that and looks at him as well “You good?” 

“I am. Did you guys already eat? I'm starving.” 

“Nope. We're about to order. Let me get you a drink, come here.” And just like that, he disappears from your view and you almost sigh in relief. 

“Are you good?” Seonghwa asks you next and you reckon he's very observant. But then again, you're not the most gracious human being when you're in San’s presence, so, you figure everyone else noticed your change of mood as well. 

“Yeah, I just… I haven't seen him in a while and I didn't think he was coming. I was surprised, that's all.” 

“I can see that,” his eyes move around your face for some reason, frowning a little bit but then he seems to let it go, getting the menu closer to you “Okay, good, um… I actually made the reservation here because they have the best samgyeopsal in town.”  

“Do they?” 

“Mhm, so…” 

He helps you pick your food and when it's time to order, he moves back to his seat. Gyuri asks you with her eyes if you're okay, you nod and grab her hand under the table with a tiny smile and then everyone is moving around to make space for San and Woo once they return. 

He doesn't sit in front of you. 

Relief floods you and you can finally feel your muscles relax as he is so far away, at the other end of the table and in the same row of seats, so you don't really see him unless you really try. 

Which you don't, so your food goes down easy and the rest of the night as well.

Until everyone but you and Seonghwa move around their seats and he ends up right in your point of view as you do your best to ignore him and focus on his friend. 

Seonghwa asks you about your hobbies, you tell him that you love to write movie essays on websites no one even cares to read and he asks you to show it to him so he can look it up when he gets home.

“And you've always done this? Since highschool?” 

You nod and he beams “I read like the first three lines and it looks really good, Y/N. Is that why you love books so much? Because you're a writer?” 

“I wouldn't consider myself a writer but… Sure, I love to write.” 

“Did you know this?” he turns to San and your smile drops a little. 

“Know what?” 

“Your friend is an excellent writer.” 

“Oh, I know. She, uh… Used to write stories on her notebook instead of paying attention in math class,” he sips on his drink and at the detail you didn't know he knew, you turn to him fully “I used to read over her shoulder sometimes.” 

“She's really good.” Seonghwa is looking at your phone, still reading “Really smart, too.” 

San’s jaw tenses a little and you can't understand why “I know.” He says again. 

His friend is none the wiser, blocking your phone and returning it to you “I like it,” he says, smiling and you blush “The essay.” He clarifies after a second, prompting a laugh out of you that he joins. 

San doesn't laugh, but you don't pay attention to him because Seonghwa is asking you something else. 

When it's time to leave the restaurant, Wooyoung suggests going back to his apartment to milk the get-together as much as you all can.

You all throw your napkins at him in feign disgust at the choice of words but you all accept his proposal either way. 

So now you're sitting on the couch, legs crossed and head on Gyuri’s shoulder while you listen to all of them talk (more like argue) about something that happened at their university last week, their voices drowning the soft music playing out of the tiny speaker resting on the counter. 

San is on the floor, to your right. It's hard to keep your eyes off him when you feel him looking at you when you close your eyes and let the noise fade into the background. It's not like you're able to add something to the conversation anyway and Gyuri seems to be drinking her sorrows (not being able to hook Woo up with the girl she told you about) away. 

Your best friend is slurring her words already, drink in hand and index finger pointing at Jongho accusatively because, apparently, the fight they're talking about was his fault. 

“You don't—” she hiccups “You don't even know why it was your fault and it pisses me off even more, you know?” 

“Okay, let me take that.” Taking the drink from her hand and before she starts complaining you stand up to make your way into the kitchen. 

The sink is full and a mess, so you pour the liquid into it and leave the glass sitting right beside it. Distracted by the dilemma of helping Woo out with the dishes or not, you don't notice someone else also entering the space.

That's why you jump a little when you turn and catch Seonghwa leaning on the wall by the entrance. It startles you enough to laugh the nerves out afterwards and he shakes his head, smiling. 

“Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. They're boring me to death with the fight story.” 

You nod, realizing that maybe that's because he doesn't attend the university anymore. He told you he graduated last year “They're too drunk to let it go.” 

“Too drunk to dance to this amazing song, too. Who's playlist is that?” he frowns and you rest your back into the sink, rolling your eyes because he's pretending he doesn't know “Oh! Right, it's mine.” 

“And they just don't know how to appreciate it, huh?” he shrugs and you click your tongue “They're such bad friends, Seonghwa, I truly don't know why you keep them around.” 

“You appreciate it,” it's your turn to frown and he leaves his spot at the wall to walk towards you “You were singing along to it,” he explains and you let out an ah, nodding as he extends his palm to you, clearly inviting you to dance. 

“Oh, I don't… I don't really know how to—” 

“I'll show you.” 

His kind eyes are asking you to trust him. You really, really shouldn't. 

No matter how hard you try to bury the hopeless romantic little girl who decided to have a crush on a guy back in ninth grade, she's still there, begging you to let loose and live a little. 

When you grab Seonghwa’s hand, you think the smile he gives you was worth listening to her. 

You can't even tell the song that's softly playing anymore, a mellow r&b melody reaches your ear but you are not listening. You're focused on him, on the way he spins you around even if it doesn't fit the bit, on the way he laughs softly against your ear when he pulls you close by your hand and then pulls away just as quickly. 

Laughing as well, the spell of this beautiful stranger (because you remind yourself you don't really know him that well) is hard to break. 

Until it does. 

Someone clearing their throat behind you stops you and Seonghwa's feet from moving any further. When the tall, older guy turns you around, you're face to face with San and his scowl. 

“Sorry to interrupt but I need to get started on the dishes. Everyone else is heading out too,” he looks behind you, at the man who's still standing close to you and grabbing your hand “In case you want to ask Mingi for a ride.” 

“They finally stopped fighting!” he fakes excitement, finally letting go of your hand and walking in front of you, blocking San with his body. You chuckle, barely clapping your hands to join the pretense as he's pulling up his phone “Can I ask for your number, Y/N?” 

Blinking a few times, you're not sure if your heart speeds up because he's asking or because you hear San sigh exasperated behind him “S-sure.” 

When you put your information on his phone, he bids you goodbye with a pat on your head and hugs San on his way out the kitchen. 

Now that you two are alone, you suddenly want to run and join Seonghwa. You were doing so, so well. 

Avoiding San like the plague it's much easier when you're safe hiding behind your two best friends. 

Ignoring his stare would be much easier if you weren't stuck into place. 

“I—” 

“You—” 

You both speak over each other and you force out an uncomfortable laugh that he doesn't return. Instead, he motions you to go first while he occupies the space in front of the sink, turning the faucet on. In doing so, he has to grab your waist and move you out of the way which makes you short circuit for a second “I was going to help you with that.” You finally stammer out. 

He lets out what you take as an annoyed chuckle. 

“You seemed busy, I don't know how you would've done it.” 

Ouch. 

Why do you allow his words to cut so deep when you stopped caring about what he does a long time ago? 

The band aid rips, the stitches come undone and all it took him were five seconds to melt your resolve away like it was never there in the first place. 

“I'll… I go get Gyuri so we can leave Woo and you to get to it, then.” 

“Bathroom.” You hear him mutter under his breath as you are taking the final step to leave. 

“Huh?” 

“She's in the bathroom, probably puking her breakfast out,” he looks up at you to give you a tiny smile “You left her alone with Jongho and Woo for five minutes so she got ahold of another drink.” 

“God damnit.” 

Rushing out, you run into everyone else at the door and Mingi has to let go of his very intoxicated girlfriend when she reaches you to give you a hug “Don't be a stranger, Y/N! It was lovely to be around you, hm?” 

The sudden physical contact almost makes you gasp but you cover it up with a shy giggle “O-oh. Yeah, um, lovely to meet you too. All of you.” 

“Sorry about that,” her boyfriend grabs her arms and breaks the hug “She's right, though. Don't be a stranger.” 

You nod once, smiling a little more sincerely now and everyone says bye to you, including Seonghwa, who grabs your hand one last time and gives it a squeeze before closing the front door of the apartment. 

You think you feel your heart skip a tiny bit under all the shit San’s words pulled up to the surface a minute ago. But there's no time to dwell in that: you hear Gyuri opening up the bathroom door before gagging and closing it again with a slam. 

Jesus Christ. 

You two are really getting old. You stopped drinking like an hour ago, when you were starting to feel tipsy after your second beer, and you know she didn't drink as much as she used to maybe four years ago, but the visage that welcomes you when you open the door and find her crouched down in front of the toilet certainly brings back memories of those times. 

“I left you alone for like… five minutes.” Sighing, you lean in to hold her flimsy ponytail and pat her back. 

“I'm good,” she gags again and then holds up her hand to stop you from saying anything else “I'm fine.” 

Smiling, you help her up and she grabs the counter as she's washing away the taste of whatever she ate earlier today and alcohol “Me when I lie…”

“Y/N!” she hits your arm but the movement somehow almost makes her trip. 

“You want to lay down?” 

“Is she okay?” Woo’s head peaks into the bathroom and when he sees his ex, he makes a face. 

“Does she look like she's okay?” you help her out of the bathroom and start heading for Wooyoung's room. 

“Wow, wow— Where do you think you're taking her?” 

“To your room, dumbass!”

“Why mine? San's is literally right there.” He whines, pointing at the door you pass by without a second thought. You don't want to know where his room is or what it looks like at all. 

“Yeah, well, did San get her this drunk?” 

“How was I supposed to know that she was at her almost black-out phase? She never drinks that much in front of me!” he complains again but you're already tugging Gyuri in, who mumbles something incoherent and then flips Wooyoung off “Na Gyuri if you puke on my bed I swear to God!” 

If you didn't know Wooyoung so much, the whining and the attitude would probably make you think he didn't care for her at all. But he's brushing her hair out of her forehead, securing the blanket around her and moving to take her socks off when you reach the door. 

“I'm guessing you're okay with her staying the night?” 

“Of course you guys can stay the night, Y/N.” He says and he stumbles a little to get to you, so you smile and shake your head, about to let him know that you're not staying anywhere near his roommate when he continues “You can come over whenever you like. You know that, right?” 

“I know, Woo.” 

“I barely even see you these days, I… Oh! I forgot!” he points to the end of the hall, towards the kitchen “You guys don't really like each other so maybe don't come over when he's here because I don't want to see you sad!” 

“Lower your voice,” you whisper to him, bringing a hand to his face and patting his cheek a few times to wake him up “Did the alcohol suddenly hit you or something?” you sigh for the umpteenth time “Anyways, you should lay down and I'll get going. I'll come pick her up tomorrow and—” 

“That's such a great idea! Oh, I'm a genius.” 

“You didn't come up with it, Wooyoung.”

“San!” he calls all of the sudden and you wish he was sober enough to read the panic on your features. He seems much, much sober when his best friend starts walking down the hall and stops right beside you “Take Y/N home, please, she's going to give you a bag that you must protect with your life.” 

Said best friend looks at you, his eyebrow arched in a silent question “Gyuri’s stuff.” 

“Ah.”

“Go, go. It's getting late, I'll just… I'll cuddle with my ex until you get home.” 

And she has the nerve to say he doesn't want her back. 

When the door to Wooyoung's room closes and you're left with San on the poorly lit hallway, you make a mental note to never step foot on this place or allow your friends to drink ever again. 

You don't even look at the guy before practically running down the hallway and reaching for your bag. You make sure your phone is secured in your pocket as you slip your shoes on and soon you're grabbing the front door knob and twisting it. 

Keys jingle next to you but, again, you don't spare San a glance. 

“So—” 

“I'll get out of your hair, you don't have to… walk me home or whatever he said.” 

“Y/N, it's late.” 

Turning to him, your smile is as fake as the ones you've been giving him the past couple of years “And I'm a grown up, San, I can walk myself home.” 

“What about Gyuri’s stuff?” 

“She can wear Wooyoung's clothes, it's not like they never shared before. Anyway… Thank you for having me, it was nice to see you. Goodnight.” Your response comes out fast and it sounds as planned out as it actually is, kinda robotic and devoid of actual emotion. 

San can't see through you the way you see through him. It's okay, he won't mind it. 

He probably won't mind that you close his own door on his face either. 

If that door is what you hear when you're making your way down the stairs in order to make a fast escape, you choose to ignore it. 

You have to stop mid-way to compose yourself. You don't know why you feel like crying or why your heart is beating so fast. 

You knew going in that there was a possibility of seeing him tonight. You know how San affects you, so effortless and seemingly like no time has passed at all in between senior year and present day. 

You know all of this already, it's an endless loop that will keep repeating until you either move away or decide to stop agreeing to Wooyoung's plans all together. 

So why is your chest heaving with emotion? Why is nostalgia playing mind tricks with you? Why do you want to turn back and hug him and beg him to turn back time so you can do it all differently now that you know how to look like and what to say to make him love you back? 

Ah, you're definitely not sleeping tonight. So you start distracting yourself while walking down the stairs again. You remind yourself to tell a much sober Wooyoung how proud you are of him. You think about Seonghwa, about his kind eyes and the way he grabbed your hand to dance with him just half an hour ago. You wonder how long it will take you to get home if you jog all the way there. You—

Why the fuck is San outside when you get there? 

In a comedic way, you can see your attempt to distract your mind off of him slipping through your fingers and evaporating in the warm summer night breeze. 

In a realistic way, you're fucking pissed at him for taking the opportunity of a good night sleep away from you. 

You pass him and start jogging like you planned a minute ago. Footsteps follow you until his arm brushes yours and you take a step to the side to stop it from happening again. 

“Go home, Choi San.” 

“Stop fighting it, Y/N. I'm walking you home.” 

“It's a twenty minute walk—” 

“Drop it.” 

You do. And for the first ten minutes, no one utters a word even if the tension feels electric and the street is so quiet so you can hear when his breath accelerates when he jogs to catch up to you whenever you try to leave him behind. 

Isn't that ironic. He was the one who left you behind all those years ago. 

“I didn't know that you danced.” 

He breaks the uncomfortable but safe silence to say that? 

“Well, you saw me dance so I clearly dance when I want to.” 

“You never danced with me.” 

“You never asked me to.” 

He laughs “I'm pretty sure I did on several occasions, Y/N.” 

“Well, you're wrong,” you're getting annoyed. How dare he think he remembers better than you? “It doesn't matter anyway, what's past is past and—” 

“You also gave Hwa your number,” he interrupts, his long legs taking two strides to get in front of you, still walking, facing your direction with his hands on his pockets. 

It's dangerous and stupid, even if the streets are practically empty and the sidewalk barely has any bumps. 

You hope he falls on his pretty face.

“I did.* 

“I don't have your number.” 

“Well, I changed it and you never asked for it, so…” 

“You could've called me or texted me to let me know you did it.” 

He's getting on your nerves.

“San,” you start, taking in a deep breath you hope calms you down “We don't even text anymore, why would you want my number?” 

“Do you like him?” 

“Seonghwa?” you ask, frowning and he nods “Like… As a person?” 

“As a potential love interest.” He clarifies matter-of-factly and you roll your eyes. 

“I met him today, San. Why do you want my number?” 

“Because we're friends?” he offers after a second, shifting so he's walking by your side again. 

“Are we?” you ask, laughing bitterly at that “Because we haven't spoken a word to each other in years.” 

“That's not true.” 

“It is, San.” 

“You… You don't speak to me anymore, so…” 

“Well your girlfriend at the time told me she didn't feel comfortable with me speaking to you anymore,” you sigh “so I didn't and you didn't try to talk to me either.” 

“Well, I want to talk to you now.” 

“And is your new girlfriend aware of that? Is she comfortable with that? Because I don't want anyone telling me what to do anymore and—” 

“Why wouldn't she be comfortable? We're friends, Y/N.” 

“Are we?” you insist, petty, bitter and overall very, very hurt. 

He looks offended at that “I assumed we were?” 

He's getting on your fucking nerves. 

“We stopped being friends the second Minseo asked me to stay away from you because she didn't like me, San.” 

“She’s not in my life anymore—” 

The words are coming out of your mouth without even thinking it through. His demeanor, the way he's somehow reproaching you for whatever he saw between you and his friend, the way he pretends nothing happened between you and him, thinking that you two are still friends. 

“We stopped being friends when you pulled away from me, saw me do the same and did nothing to stop it from happening, San.” 

He stops in his tracks at that. You don't, pushing forward and quickening your step even if your calves burn. 

“Either way,” you speak up “Make sure you tell your girlfriend about wanting my number and then you can ask Seonghwa for it if you want—” 

“She's not my girlfriend anymore!” 

Now that stops you, just a few buildings down from yours, you turn around just to find San closer that you thought he'll be.

“O-oh. I… I didn't know that. I'm sorry.” 

“You didn't do anything to be sorry for.” 

“Still, it must suck so I'm sorry you're going through that.” 

“We didn't want the same things and so we ended it. It is what it is.” 

You nod. 

He walks the few steps separating you and you have to raise your chin a little to look him in the eye for the first time since you left his apartment “I wanted to tell you.” 

“That you broke up with your girlfriend?” 

“Yeah, I don't know why. It happened when I broke up with Minseo too, I just… You're the first person that I thought of calling when it happened. I texted you, too, but the messages didn't go through.” 

You hum at that. 

Why would he even say that? 

You resume your step, not really knowing what to say until you reach the stairs that lead to your building’s entrance. 

“And you didn't ask Woo for my number?” 

He follows you up. 

“I don't think he would've given it to me if I asked.” 

That sounds like an excuse, so you don't let it slide as you enter the code to your building and let yourself inside, San holding the door so he can get in as well “Why would he do that?” 

“Because he…” San sighs, pressing the elevator button “Nevermind. He just wouldn't.”

Frowning, you turn to him “No, now you have to tell me.” 

“It doesn't matter, really—” 

“Tell me, San.” 

He stares for a second and then looks away, like a child, vulnerable and you can't help but soften at that “He didn't like the way I treated you.” 

Eating your words from before, you shake your head “You didn't treat me like anything.” 

The elevator dings and you get inside. 

San follows you. 

“Exactly,” he says, resting his shoulder on the metal “Like you said I just did nothing and—” 

“Well, sometimes that's just what happens,” you want to end this. You want to pack Gyuri’s bag, give it to him and never see him again. 

This conversation hurts, it reopens barely closed wounds and it creates new ones you don't really need when it comes to whatever happened between you two. 

There's only so much a person can handle and it really doesn't help that you're a fool for San. He takes advantage of it, of the fact you can't really push him away at this point and the fact that he wants to have this conversation now instead of four and half years ago? 

Mean. 

He's mean. He's evil. He's… He's staring at you with a spark in his eyes that you recognize too well. 

Hope. 

When you get to your floor, you try to wipe the image away while busying yourself with your keys. Your hands tremble a little but you're able to open the door of your apartment and get in without inviting him. 

He gets in anyway. You take off your shoes as he closes the front door. 

He stays silent as he follows you around the apartment and you don't worry about turning the lights on. You get into Gyuri’s room and start picking out a comfy hangover outfit for your friend. Some clean underwear, sweatpants, two shirts and socks. 

When you drop to the floor, in front of the closet, to look for a bag to stash all of it in, San silently clutches beside you. 

“It shouldn't have happened to us. Never us.” 

You can't take it anymore. 

“San, what is this? What are you doing? I mean, why are we—” 

“I know.” 

“It's been years…”  

“I miss you.” 

He's so mean. But the softness in his tone resembles the one he used all the way back in highschool, when he told you that not being friends with you didn't feel right and you want to cave in right there and then. 

Your heart screams at you to do it, your reason warns you that you both have been through this before and it never ends right. 

You simply can't stay friends with Choi San. 

Your love for him must run too deep, your resentment claws at it and tries to hurt it but it's an immovable force that won't budge even if you try to bury it under the years that have passed, the things he has done. 

Tears gather in your eyes and you try to blink them away as you stare at your best friend's clothes on your lap and try to come up with something to close this path up again, reconstruct the picket fence you built around it the second he broke your heart for the first time. 

“Yeah,” you whisper back, letting the walls fall a little “I miss you too but I don't think I miss whatever version of you you are right now, San.” 

“W-what?”

His shaky voice makes the walls crumble and crash. 

Turning to him, your hand shakes as you place it on top of his “And you don't miss the version of me I am right now. You miss what I was back then, the comfort and the shoulder to cry on I offered you when Arin and you broke up. You miss my availability and the way I didn't press my feelings on you because it didn't matter if I liked you or not, you were my friend first and the guy that I had a crush second but—” you choke up, tears falling down your cheeks even if you don't want them to “I can't do it anymore. I'm not that girl anymore and I won't be there for you now that you and Kyungmi broke up because I can't handle it. I can't, I'm sorry.” 

He doesn't deny any of it.

He stares at you, tears wetting his cheeks as well and it hurts even more this way. You wish you had the strength to hold it together, to treat him like you did on the street a few minutes ago, but you can't. 

There's no way you could ever hate him like you want to. 

“You know…” he starts in a whisper, letting out a humorless chuckle “That's what I used to tell myself too.” 

“Hm?” 

“That you were my friend first and the girl that I had a crush on second.” 

How dare he mutter the words you always wanted to hear, the ones you picture being said in a different setting, the ones that haunted your every waking thought that period of time you doubted your friends, your mom, yourself for even believing Choi San could ever have a crush on you. 

He doesn't get to say them. You want to tell him but the words die on your throat and form a lump that you can't swallow down. 

You don't get to say that. You don't get to say that. 

Your hand drops from his and you look away again only to grab the first bag you find on the closet floor and shove Gyuri’s stuff in it. 

If the lack of response it's what prompts the hurt in his voice the next time he speaks, you don't want to think about it. 

“I wish I didn't. Now it's too late to do something about it, huh?” 

This time the rage comes back with a mask on. Feing settlement for all the what if’s covers you like a blanket on a really hot summer night: unwanted, unnecessary. 

But you can't sleep without it, so you do nothing to push it away. 

“I guess it is.” 

You get up from the floor, leaving the room and wiping your face with bitterness coating your movements as you wait by the door for him to get out. 

When he does and he steps in front of you, you extend the bag and he takes it without missing a beat. 

Voice robotic and words premeditated, you open the front door for him “Thanks for walking me home and taking this back.” 

He leans a little into your space and you don't move away. But just as he did in highschool, he takes in your hitched breath and does nothing more.

“Thanks for letting me talk to you.” 

He didn't give you much of a choice there but it's okay. This is closure, this is the end of your story with Choi San and you convince yourself you're glad that it is. 

“Sure,” you whisper back and he steps outside, turning around to watch you slowly close the door “goodnight, San.” 

He doesn't say it back. 

When the darkness of your apartment engulfs you, that's when you let yourself breakdown. Covering your mouth with your palm, you descend until your knees are against the wood on the floor and closing your eyes you make it a point to let it all out. 

You'll let it all out, drink some water, text Wooyoung and Gyuri to let them know you're safe and go to bed. 

And tomorrow you'll begin your day with the freedom of finally knowing what would've happened if you or San ever took the next step. 

This is fine. This is moving on. This is— 

The doorbell rings. 

Opening the door again, you crease your eyebrows in a silent question that San doesn't care to answer, so you look around the floor in case he forgot something you're missing. You wipe your cheeks and under your eyes as you turn to him again “Did you—” 

Time slows down when he makes it past the threshold and you can't move an inch, gaping at who you once thought was the love of your life “What are you doing, San?” 

“Something about it.” 

“What?” 

“Forgive me,” he asks, breathless and in a murmur, fueling your confusion. And then he's closing the distance, dropping Gyuri’s bag and cupping your face so gently that it hurts “but I'm doing something about it.” 

You stopped dreaming about the possibility of San kissing you that one time you two were on your bed and, another time, you told yourself that, if it ever happened, you wouldn't kiss him back. 

It's too late to kiss him back. 

But sparks fly when he crushes you against the wall and takes in a breath before slothing his mouth against yours like he's been waiting to do this every single day for the past nine years you've known each other. 

There's nothing you can do to conceal the way yearning takes over you, pours out of you, making you breathe into his open mouth and kiss him back like you always wanted to. 

You already know it is a mistake by the time you grab his shirt to keep him in place but does it really matter when this is all you ever wanted? 

Feeling warmth leave your face, you notice the way he desperately crowds your space as his chest bumps into yours, leg claiming its place in between yours, the palm that leaves you pressing against the wall, next to your head. 

The kiss is filled with emotion, with longing and desire and it steals the air out of your lungs tragically and beautifully at the same time. Before, you used to dream about his lips making everything feel right, making you fit in in a world you didn't feel like you belonged to. 

But this kiss drops you into uncharted territory, drags you into the depths of something that should be buried by now, after all this time. It brings the flame back to life and it's dangerous. 

The fact that it feels this way, both marvelous and catastrophic at the same time, makes you so sad. 

Sorrow descends down your face until your mouth is picking it up and your tongue is mixing it with whatever emotion is cruising through San right now. 

You have to know. 

He spent your entire youth and early adulthood keeping it to himself, knowing when to show his true colors and when to hide them, choosing who to do it with and you realize the San that lives in your head is nothing but a figment of what you wanted him to be. 

Because him holding to your waist like it's his only lifeline doesn't fit the San you remember, him telling you he liked you back then doesn't fit the guy who was just your best friend. 

You need to know. 

“San,” brokenly, you speak into his mouth and he pulls away just enough to see your face. Your eyes remain closed, your chest heaving and your lips trembling “Why are you doing this?” 

“Because I want you, Y/N.” 

You push him away, weakly, almost like you don't really mean it because deep down you don't but he steps away like you're asking to. 

Because, of course, your mind scraps the bottom of your resentment to give his words a completely new meaning. 

“You can find another girl to fuck and be your rebound, San,” more tears spill down and you wipe them away in anger but more threat to fall down so you cover your face with your hands and groan, desperate “I can't do this, especially not when I know that you know how bad I wanted you. Y-you know what you do to me San so stop—”

“I want you in my life. I don't— What? I don't want you like a rebound, I… Can we sit down and turn on a light so I can look at you when I say this?” 

His words should be reassuring but they're not, the way you tend to feel unlovable around him coming up to the surface, preventing you from thinking clearly. 

You can also feel his lips on yours still. It's dizzying but you manage to push yourself off the wall and pad around until you hit the switch of the warm light lamp near the couch and the apartment comes to life just like that. 

He takes in the space he's never seen before, walking slowly towards the living room and looking over the bookshelf that screams your name all over it. He smiles a bit as he looks over the book titles and you look away before your heart starts acting up again. 

You can't stay mad at him for long if he's looking through something so personal to you and smiling that fondly at it. It feels even more intimate than the kiss you two just shared. 

Wiping your cheeks once more, you are sure you look a mess but he doesn't seem to mind it once he comes into your point of view, sitting down on the couch, in front of your standing form. He grabs you by your hands until you're sitting next to him, close to him, cologne intoxicating your senses. 

“I told you I liked you when we were in highschool, right?” 

You nod. 

“You seemed surprised but it was dark so I'm not really sure. I thought you knew, everyone knew.” 

Oh, he's a comedian. 

“How would I have known, San? I… Yeri told me you liked me one time, in senior year, but I denied it. Then, my mom told me you seemed to want me in a non-platonic way and I dismissed her as well,” you take in a deep, shaky breath “For me, the thought of you liking me just didn't make sense. You loved Arin and she's… She doesn't look or act like I did back then at all, so how would I have known?” 

You didn't need clues and puzzles and what if’s, you needed words and actions that weren't confusing. You needed him to tell you back then, because telling you right now and kissing you senseless after he broke up with a girl he supposedly was very in love with means nothing but pain. 

“I didn't realize you liked me too,” you make a face, about to tell him off, but he interrupts “I didn't! I thought you liked Yeri and I thought you saw me as the annoying guy who wouldn't leave you alone. I only just realized it a couple years ago, because Woo told me.” 

You raise your eyebrows and mutter under your breath “I'm murdering him tomorrow.” 

The corner of his lips twitch before he shakes his head in dismissal of what you said “I liked you. I really, really liked you and never told a soul because… Well, it's scary when you fall in love, right?” 

“San, you had no problem telling Arin, Minseo or Kyungmi that you liked them.” 

He looks down to the floor, lost in thought and you want to open your mouth to take what you just said into a new direction, but you don't “Maybe that's because I didn't love them the way I love you.” 

Oh. 

Love you? As in… He loves you right now too? 

No way. 

“You didn't love me, San. You don't love me right now either, you… Maybe we both were in love with the idea of love? Maybe that's what happened and—” 

“Quit telling me what I'm feeling, Y/N. You always do that, you always assume you know what I'm feeling but you don't!” 

Raising your voice a little more, you try to get your point across in the worst way possible: by being stubborn “You don't know me! How can you possibly—” 

“I knew you back then, Y/N! And I loved you back then, too!” He looks like wants to say something more but he doesn't, instead, he takes a calming breath and then leans into your space for the third time tonight “And I might not know you now but I want to. That's what I meant when I said that I want you. I want you in my life, I want to know the person you became when we stopped talking, I want to talk to you every single day and I want to hold you and kiss you and be by your side however you want me to, I just… I can't lose you again.” 

His confession renders you speechless and you notice his chest is heaving, going up and down in sync with yours. 

But the way he pulled away from you senior year still hurts, it paints a picture of what's going to happen if you accept this. 

You can't believe his words. 

He must feel lonely and confused, like he did when Arin broke up with him. He must be looking for a shelter you can't provide. 

“And when you find another girl that's more to your liking? What then, San?” 

“There's no one that I love more than you, Y/N and I'm sorry I was shit at proving it back then and I'm sorry that it took so many years for me to come to my senses.” 

He's tearing up and your heart pangs absurdly loud at that. 

“I saw you with Seonghwa earlier today, laughing and dancing and flirting and I thought: Oh, maybe if I didn't waste that much time pretending I'm someone I'm not, that would be me.” 

You stare for a second, you watch a single tear drop down his cheek and then look away. 

“Is that what you were doing? Is that why you pulled away?” 

“Maybe?” he offers and you turn to him again. Is not enough and maybe he can see it in your expression, because he goes on “I mean, I… I thought I wanted Arin. I thought I wanted Minseo. I had people in my life who were really happy to see me with them and I just…” 

“Wanted to keep them happy,” you nod, understanding. He doesn't have to say his mothers name for you to know he's referring to her and maybe his other highschool friends outside of Wooyoung “Were you pretending with me as well?” 

“No,” he answers right away “You and Woo were the only ones who saw me for who I really was back then.” 

“And why do you think you love me now, San?” you ask, deflating against the couch and ignoring the way your heart soars at his quick response.

“Because I never stopped,” he stammers out and then clears his throat “Because I looked for you in Minseo and Kyungmi and I wondered for years why they couldn't make me feel the same way. And I told myself I didn't need to feel the same way and that I deserved to wonder for the rest of my days but seeing you tonight? I can't.” 

Straightening your spine, the pained look you sent in his direction is not intentional but it prompts him to lean closer and closer until he's cupping your cheek again. 

“I can't keep wondering.” His voice is a sweet whisper, a siren song that draws you in until your forehead is resting against his. 

All these years, you were so self-focused on changing to a better version of who he used to know, learning from your mistakes and closing off to the opportunity of letting him prove himself a better man, you forgot that time passed for him too. He’s telling you he changed, too. 

Imagination is a safe space. Is where you hide, where desire can take its wings and fly high without hurting you too much. Make belief has rescued you before but this? The way his nose nuzzles softly into yours and your breaths tangle? This is very real. And reality is prone to hurt you. 

But the want you feel is undeniable. The way your entire being wants to cave in and give him an opportunity is suffocating, it makes you choke out a sob that he follows with one of his own. 

You kiss him, softly at the beginning, but his hands on you tighten and you let yourself get lost in the way they go down your neck and your arms, caressing you softly until they reach your waist and pull you into his lap. 

Pulling away, you grab his chin with two fingers and force his teary eyes to snap open, searching for an answer on yours.

“If you hurt me,” you start, breathless “If you're mocking me, if you're using me to get over Kyungmi, if you are pulling me back in to break my heart again, Choi San, I swear to God I will kill you.” 

“I won't do that to you ever again, Y/N,” he returns softly “I love you, I'm sorry if I ever hurt you but I love you.” 

Others would argue that it is pathetic how quickly you forgive him. But then again, you could never be mad at San. 

You were only mad at yourself for how everything turned out. 

“I love you too, Sannie.” 

Saying something never felt so freeing before. 

“Oh, Y/N…” you can see the way relief washes his worries away “Y/N…” he starts to say but then leans in to kiss you again and never finishes his words. 

You don't mind it. 

Pouring out all the pent up affection you pretended to bury for years, you explore his mouth and carve into your memory the way he feels. The way he sighs into it when your tongue brushes his, the way he pulls you in closer when your fingers reach the nape of his neck and pull on his hair there, hands splayed on your back so he can keep you in place as he leans down and places you against the worn out couch. 

He maps you out, hands going down your waist in a familiar feeling that brings back that memory of you two laying down on your bed. Only this time, he's actually touching you with a purpose. This time, you two have made up your minds and your limbs are tangled in a way you can feel all of him pressing up against you. 

It starts to get stuffy, the space on the couch not nearly enough to have him the way you want to. Soon, you're both standing up, mouths still moving against each other and hands roaming everywhere until you're undoing the buttons on his shirt. 

He pulls away to fully take it off, eyes never leaving yours, dropping the shirt to the ground, next to the couch and then he's on you again, making your back crash into the wall as he works the knots keeping your blouse together. 

He walks you through the hall, stopping only to take your top off and then he's walking you to a room that has a familiar scent that doesn't belong to you.

“Wrong room, wrong room,” you say into his lips and he laughs, looking to your surroundings “Mine’s over there.” you point to the other end of the hall, taking his hand and pulling him towards it. 

You don't make it far before he's yanking you towards him again. He looks down, taking your body in and you do the same, his firm and defined stomach a sight you never thought you would be able to see. 

“You're so beautiful,” he whispers, backing you against the wall again and kissing your cheek “So, so beautiful.” 

Turning your head to chase his mouth, he lets out a heavy sigh when his lips trail a path to your neck and murmurs against the skin there “I never told you how beautiful I found you before but you're so perfect, baby.” 

“I always thought I wasn't your type, San,” you let out a noise when he grabs your hips and pulls you forward, crashing his into yours “Fuck.” 

“And I always thought you were too much for me, too smart,” he kisses his way back up, focusing on your jaw and chin until he's kissing your cheek again “too pretty,” he moves to your ear, pecking right under it and you hold him closer “too good for me.” 

It doesn't really matter that this is all new to you, the way he's speaking, the tenor of his voice, the things he's saying… It sparks something familiar in you. You're pulling his hair back to make him look at you, a moan slipping out of his lips at that. 

You want to hear it again. 

He's smiling at your reaction, hand tightening on his locks.

However, that smile drops when he seems to recognize the gleam in your eyes. 

You gather up courage, feeling empowered by the way his hooded eyes darken but wait patiently for you to speak your mind. 

“Maybe I'm too good for you now, too,” you lean in, your lips softly tracing his “Maybe you should prove to me that you deserve me, San.” 

It's a dare. One that he seems to like a lot because his eyes sparkle with the same fire they used to back in the day. 

“Oh, I'll prove it to you, alright.” He whispers, panting when you let go of his hair and he leans into you to kiss your lips briefly before pulling away again.

His hand tilts your head back and you rest it against the cold wall, his fingers touch your bottom lip before going down and down and down until they rest against the seam of your pants, unbuttoning them in one swift movement. 

Going back up, his nails softly dig into your skin and you preen, taking the soft sting of his ministrations like you two have done this a million times before.  

His mouth is on yours again, his hands are pulling you off the wall and into your room until you two land on your mattress, a moan spilling out of your lips when he sloths his knee in between your legs and pulls them apart with expertise. 

You don't have the mind to break down what that means. 

Opening your eyes when he kisses down your neck again, you notice your room is barely lit by the street lights outside, curtains pulled open and windows closed but, this way, you can see the way San kisses between your breasts and your belly, catching his eyes when he looks up to measure your reaction. 

You sigh, already feeling some sort of build up going on down there and he hasn't even touched you properly yet. 

You don't even want to think about how wet you actually are. 

He leans back, open palms going down your legs slowly until they reach your feet. It tickles and you can't help but let out a giggle that he joins short after, his gaze never losing the edge because of it, though. 

“San…” 

He guides your hips up so he can take off your pants and you sigh when his hands return, raising your leg up “I missed your laugh,” he says low, attaching his lips to your calf “I miss being the one making you laugh too.” 

You feel like crying again but then he's letting your leg down and grabbing the other one to give it the same treatment, so your tears can wait. 

This time, he moves upwards till his mouth nears your clothed center and your breath hitches. 

Yeah, you can definitely cry later.

“You want me to prove to you how much I want you, Y/N?” he murmurs, his lips ghosting your mound now “How much I love you?” 

“San, p-please…” 

“Fuck, look at you.” He sounds like he's too lost in the heat of the moment and you're kind of grateful, because the moan you let out when his fingers hook on your underwear and pull them to the side to expose your pussy to his hungry eyes is loud. 

When he kisses you right where you need him, you let out another moan. And when he parts your folds to lick a stripe up to your clit, you curse him under your breath until he's laughing against you softly, the vibrations accumulating heat on your belly. 

He doesn't tease you much longer and you look down at him just to catch the moment his self control slips, eating you out like a man starved while his hand stays on your hip to hold you down and keep you underwear from interrupting his feast. 

“This is like,” he dives in again for a few seconds and you grab the sheets beneath you “All my fantasies coming to life but better.” 

He's so chatty during this and the only thing you can do is stammer a yeah? and pray for it to reach his ears.

“Mhm,” He circles your clit with the tip of his tongue and your legs shake “It tastes even better than what I dreamed, too.” 

The heat of his mouth leaves you, lips spreading your wetness through your stomach until he fully reaches your face, your eyes closed and lips already waiting for him. 

Tongue caressing yours, your hands trail down his torso and focus on getting his pants off. You're shaking with excitement so it proves to be more difficult than you imagined at first but he helps you in unbuckling his belt. 

Once the piece of clothing is on the floor (or the bed, you're not really paying attention to where it lands), you don't waste time in feeling him up through his boxers. 

The hiss you get in return makes you smile. 

Bringing your lips to his neck, you suckle on this pulse point and gain another pleased noise before grazing your teeth against skin and moving to his collarbone next.

In a way, you get what he means. If he truly was pining over you the way you were pining over him, the thought of exploring his tan skin and making him moan feels like a dream. 

So you kiss him again in order to make it all last longer. 

The minutes pass between the both of you, softly making out and figuring out what gets both of you going, discarding your underwear in the process. 

You realize your moans make San’s cock twitch against your leg and he seems to notice the way your hips buck up everytime his hands handle you more roughly. 

After a few minutes of just this, you feel his hand making its way down again and the pads of his fingers circle your clit until you're grasping the sheets again. He gathers your arousal and then enters one finger slowly and when it slides in and out with ease, he enters the next one. 

There's really not much prepping he needs to do, already soft and compliant under him, you relax into his comfortable touch before you're aching for something else. And your mouth is preoccupied with his, so you do something else to catch his attention. 

Hands caressing his back, you let them drop to his ass with a soft smack that wins you a soft huff on amusement and then a whine when you move his hips towards yours. 

“Condom?” 

You shake your head “I'm clean and I have an implant.” 

“Oh?” he smirks, about to tease you but you squeeze his butt again and he moans “Fuck. I'm clean too.” 

“Good,” you whisper against his cheek, laughing as he arranges his position. 

And he might've been touching you all this time, kissing you until your mind emptied and your lips are all swollen up, but the look on his eyes when he slowly enters you is what might drive you over the edge. 

Grabbing your hands, he pins them on the side of your head as he moves, dropping his head down with a groan as you take him in, nose touching yours and moth whispering sweet things you can't quite pick up. 

He feels so good. 

This all feels way too good to be real. 

In the cloud you're at, you allow yourself to dream a little more before the reality of what your confessions mean dawns on you. 

For now, you allow San to make love to you. Sweetly, slowly and with a passion you never were lucky enough to encounter before. 

Maybe it's because your previous lovers didn't have your heart the way San does. 

He rams his hips into yours hard, closing his eyes and resting his warm cheek against yours, kissing your face inch by inch when you accompany his movements with your own. 

When his pace picks up, you hug him close and secure your legs around his hips as you moan. 

“Y-yes, fuck.” 

“Like that?” he repeats the movement from before, pulling out and then in with such force it rocks the entire bed. 

“Just like that, baby, fuck.” 

“God, you sound so good,” you smile a little, forehead resting on his shoulder before your head falls down against your pillow again “I love you,” he repeats against your lips, letting your hands go to cup your face with both of his again “I love you so much.” 

Teetering over the edge, you feel happy tears stinging in your eyes. Though closed, you can feel San’s stare on you, on your face, on the way you react to his sweet words and relentless pace. 

You say it back in a whisper and he repeats it again and again and again until you're both coming and tears are spilling down your cheeks. 

He kisses them away. 

You wipe his with trembling fingers as you come down, having trouble breathing from everything that just happened. 

You don't feel suffocated anymore, you feel like you've been freed. Like this was supposed to happen at some point and you two finally got around to it. 

“I love you,” he says once more before slipping out of you with a parting kiss. 

Holy shit. 

When San gets up from the bed and you point him to the bathroom, down the hallway, you're left with a sticky mess in between your legs and a lot to think about but you settle on four things. 

San just made love to you. There's no way that was just sex. 

There's also no way you're coming back from this. 

Gyuri is probably going to kill you. 

And that, obviously, your feelings for San never left. You feel the familiar warmth of them spreading through your post-orgasmic state. They're there, mocking you, asking you who the fuck you thought you were for pushing them away. 

He returns, toilet paper in his hands before leaning in and cleaning you up, lips immediately finding home on your skin as he does. 

You both giggle at that.

You probably need to shower but you've been crying and there's no way you're leaving this bed tonight. He throws the paper away on your bedroom’s trashcan and then crashes into the bed next to you, still naked, still looking at you with so much love you're wondering what stopped you from seeing it was there before. 

Taking his hand, you bring it to his lip and give his knuckles a peck “That was really good.” 

“It was.” 

“I can't believe we actually just did that…” 

He smiles and what he says next shocks you even more than his confession “I want to take you out.” 

“San… You just came inside me not even ten minutes ago.” 

“And?” you laugh and he shakes his head, leaning into your space again “I spent many years doing everything wrong, let me do it the right way.” 

“Making love to me one time and then taking me out on a date is not the right way, sir.” 

He nuzzles your cheek with his nose and you let out a pleased sigh “Who said it was just one time, huh?” Attacking your neck with his lips again, you push him away with a laugh. 

“Oh, come on!” 

He laughs as well “Give me ten minutes and I'll make it two!” 

San makes love to you two more times. And by four in the morning, you're snuggled into his arms and sleeping soundly. 

When you wake up and find the space next to you empty, you think it was all a dream. Your naked form begs to differ and you quickly put the t-shirt you usually wear to bed on and your panties underneath it to go out and face the feelings of your actions fighting with the blender in the kitchen. 

“How do you two live with this stupid thing?” 

“We don't,” you answer, startling him “We don't use it. What are you trying to make?” 

San’s shirtless, wearing his pants and his hair messy. Looking back at the living room clock, you see it's just five past ten. 

Smiling as he approaches you, you forget you must look a mess too when he pecks your lips and barely pulls away “Good morning, beautiful.” 

You pretend to cringe at that, pulling away “Oh, God. Morning, dumbass.” 

“You like it, you're blushing,” he points out and the pink on your cheek deepens as he's going back to the blender “Does anything work here?” 

“The microwave,” you shrug “And the stove. Were you trying to make yourself a…” you look over the ingredients he has pulled out of your fridge “Green juice?” 

“I was trying to make both of us a green juice,” he corrects and your heart skips at the immediate domestic attitude he has with you “But now I can tell neither of you drink anything like it, hm? I'm buying you a blender.” 

“Please don't.” 

“Why?” 

“Why do you think that one is broken?” 

He hums, huffing out a laugh seconds later and you walk over to him, unsure on how to approach him even though what you did yesterday night and earlier this morning didn't allow your shyness to step in. 

Now you're feeling it. 

He can tell, because he stops fighting with the steel appliances to grab your waist and pull you close “I wanted to make you breakfast.” 

“We can make breakfast together and I can order your green juice,” you compromise and he nods, but he doesn't let you go “And later we can go out on that date you promised me yesterday and we can go over what we're going to tell the two idiots.” 

His smile drops. 

“Oh, fuck.” 

Grimacing, you nod “It was the second thing I thought about after waking up.” 

“What was the first?” 

“Oh, I was trying to remember if you ever asked me to dance before,” he nods with a smile “Guess what? You didn't.” 

He fake gasps at that “I did!” 

“No, you didn't!” 

“Babe, yes I did,” he insists and you laugh, which prompts him to wrap his hands around you tighter when you try to get away from him “It was when—” 

“Oh. My. God. I'm going to be sick again.” 

Now when the fuck did Gyuri come back. 

And why is Wooyoung with her too, jaw slack as he watches both of you pull away from each other and create a safe distance that doesn't help whatever your best friends just saw. 

“It worked?” he asks and you can barely hear him until he hollers like a crazy person “Oh, it worked! I am a genius!” 

“Wooyoung, hold me! I'm going to kill them!” Gyuri looks like she's about to launch towards you at any second now, so you close your eyes and accept your fate. But nothing happens “Wait— What worked?” 

When you open them again, San is hiding behind you and Gyuri’s back is to both of you as she looks at Wooyoung with, what you assume, murderous intentions. 

“Gyuri, let's talk about this,” the black haired guy puts his hands up “You were too drunk to discuss it so I made the choice of— Gyuri, no!” 

You burst into laughter when she starts chasing him around the apartment and San giggles as well, only more nervous than delighted by their little cat and mouse game. 

He's probably sensing he's next on her hit list. 

As if you would let anything happen to him in the first place. 

“Stop, stop! I'm sorry, please leave me alone!” you hear Wooyoung’s voice echoing through your hall and in a second he's entering the kitchen, rounding you and San “I'm so happy for you guys, really, this was meant to happ— Stop!” He cries when Gyur catches onto him and yanks his hair to stop him from running.  

“Y/N,” she starts, chest heaving and you take a step back, crashing into San’s chest. He holds onto you only to push you a little and protect himself from the fury of your best friend “When I told you fuck him I didn't meant this!” 

“I know.” 

Wooyoung whines but he can't get away from her grasp so he just accepts it and pouts like a child. 

“A-and you!” She points towards the guy resting his chin on your shoulder “How dare you! If this is something casual for you then—” 

“I love her.” He defends himself quickly and your heart all but stops at that. 

“You do?” Wooyoung coos, amazed at his best friend’s confession. 

Gyuri's anger falters at that. 

“You… You do?” 

“And I love him,” you let out in a shy whisper, smiling a bit “But you already knew that.” 

“Of course I already knew that, bitch, I am your other half,” she makes a point to stare at San as she says it, letting Wooyoung go and he massages the part of his scalp that was targeted by his ex “Don't forget that.” 

“Y-yes ma'am.” 

You laugh again and Woo joins the embrace, eyeing you both expectantly and rolling his eyes when neither of you say anything to him “Well, you are so welcome guys. What are we having for breakfast?” 

You and San don't get to go out on that date. 

But when you do, he asks you to be his girlfriend the next day. 

And when you say yes he almost breaks down in excited tears.

Eventually, even Gyuri comes around and threatens him into treating you right, which means he earned her seal of approval. 

You delete the document on your laptop when you find it a month into being his girlfriend and, instead, start drafting your new beginning on it, in first person this time because the story doesn't feel like it belongs to someone else now.

The first line read as it follows: 

How did I ever think San and I could be just friends? 

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

© jensthwa, 2024.

[that-house]

Potion Vendor FAQs:

What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist Zykocea the Radiant, but that’s mostly just a PR thing. My friends call me Zoe.

Do you sell love potions? No.

Do you sell potions of invisibility? No.

Do you sell fire resistance potions? No.

Why do I have a suitcase? Fuck if I know. Cool outfit though. Very goth.

Do you sell a potion to treat brain hemorrhaging? No.

So what CAN your potions do? I sell health potions.

Are you sure these are health potions? They do something to your health.

Is this just ditch water with some pink glitter? No.

Really? I’ll have you know I added some fruit juice too.

Why is this starting to sound like a conversation? Oh just you wait. We’re just getting started.

Is your business model legal? Fuck no. I poisoned the food safety inspector before they could snitch.

Did you just admit to murder? Just fucking try to convict me. I’ll poison the judge too.

So can you make poison potions? No.

Then where do you get the poison? I secrete it from my skin.

Are you shitting me? Yep, I’m shitting you. I have a guy. A poison guy. He DOES secrete it from his skin though.

How does that work? …Fuck if I know. Maybe a wizard did it. Damn, now I’m kinda curious.

You never asked? The idea of asking literally never crossed my mind.

Wanna ask him? Let’s do it. I don’t have anything better to do, and a road trip beats sitting around running my fraudulent potion business.

Road trip? He lives in Seattle.

Your poison guy lives in Seattle? All poison guys live in Seattle.

For real? All the poison guys I know live in Seattle.

And how many poison guys do you know? Just the one.

Why are you like this? Years of living on my potions. It changed me.

Do you know what his address is? Nope. He just mails me my poison in unmarked boxes.

You just get your poison in the mail? We already poisoned everyone who could do anything about it.

So how are we going to find him? We’ll figure that out eventually I’m sure.

Can I drive? God no. You can pick music, but I maintain veto rights. Make sure you pick something with a lot of questions if you want to sing along.

Where’s your car? The garage connects to my house, so you’re getting a little tour. Here’s the kitchen: only one of the stove burners works and I’m pretty sure the microwave is haunted.

Why do you think that? Because of the ghost that tries to kill me whenever I run it.

What’s in that room? That’s my bedroom. It’s pretty much just a mattress on the floor and every single Warrior cats book.

You were a Warriors kid? Yeah, and then I never found the time to put the books away. There’s so many fucking books. I use them in place of furniture because I can’t afford chairs.

Your fraudulent potion business doesn’t make much money? After buying all that poison I just about break even.

Can I see your potion brewing room? It’s right through here. Ignore the mess, running a fraudulent potion business takes a lot of prop work, but I’ve got all the glass tubes and colorful liquids you could ever want. This pink stuff is melted watermelon italian ice. Glitter vat is in the basement, and the famous ditch is in the backyard.

Is this your car? My beloved ‘72 Corolla. She’s beautiful, and don’t you dare imply otherwise.

Was she always this shade of muddy brown? …Yes.

Are you sure I can’t drive? Get in the fucking passenger seat and pick the music.

Let’s see, a song with questions in it, how about The Beach? That Wolf Alice song, yeah. That should work.

When will we three meet again, in thunder, lightning, in rain? Still sink our drinks like every weekend but I’m sick of circling the drain.

When will we meet eye to eye? We clink the glass but we look at the floor.

Are we still friends if all I feel is afraid? You’re not a bitch but just a bit when you’re bored.

Is that all we can sing together? Yep. Even that little bit was nice, though. It’s awkward, communicating through this FAQ format.

Got any food? Yeah, there’s a few days’ worth of snacks in the back.

Were you just… prepared to go on a road trip? Says the woman who brought a suitcase to an FAQ.

I did do that, didn’t I? I have a spare toothbrush in case you forgot yours. I’m pretty sure you did.

How did you know that? …I’m psychic.

Yeah? No.

You love lying, don’t you? I can’t stop. It’s fun. Way more fun than telling the truth.

Did you just miss a turn? Probably.

Are you sure we’re not lost? No.

You mean you’re sure we’re not lost? No, I mean I’m not sure we’re not lost.

Why did I come on this road trip? Surely it was my winning personality.

Would it help if I said it was? It would.

Is it getting dark? Soon.

Can you describe the sunset to me? An empyrean flame, red-gold towers of darkening clouds, the sky behind them an ever-deepening indigo. The great eye of the sun closes on the horizon. The road before us looks like a trail of spilled paint, an iridescent gash through the night-dark woods.

Did you know that you’d make a slightly better poet than you do a potion seller? That really isn’t saying much, huh. Good job making a statement like that in question form, though. You’re getting good at this.

Should we find a motel? Sure.

One room or two? One. It’s way cheaper, and like I said: I’m not the best potion vendor.

You’d make a good assassin, though, wouldn’t you? Shit, you might be right. I HAVE poisoned a lot of people.

Should I be endorsing this? You’re a grown woman who can make her own choices.

Would you like to consider it endorsed? I’ll consider considering it.

How many beds do you think there will be? Now that you’ve asked that, I’m gonna put my money on one. Hello, one room please. Thank you, we’ll be sure to enjoy our stay.

How many beds are there? One.

Oh no, what ever will we do? Move over, you motherfucker, you can’t have the whole bed.

Are you gonna make me? Yes. I am going to pick you up and drop you on your side of the bed.

How did you get so strong? You’re not gonna believe this, but it was the potions.

Oh yeah? I was right. You didn’t believe me.

For real though, how did you get so strong? Working out, duh. Not everything has some big crazy secret behind it. World’s still beautiful though.

Are you comfortable? This beats the mattress at home. A little chilly though.

Wanna cuddle–for warmth of course? God yes.

Are you asleep? …

Yes? …

Does this mean I can talk about you behind your back? …

What should I say? …

Did you know that I had a really nice day? …

Did you know that I think you’re beautiful? …

Did you know that I can’t remember anything from before today? …

Did you know that I don’t know who I am? …

Did you know that you’re basically the only thing stopping me from having a full-blown panic attack about all this shit? …

Did you know that you’re warm? …

Did you sleep well? Better than at home, that’s for sure.

Did you know that you snore? I hope I didn’t keep you up.

Does the pope shit in the woods? No, as far as I can tell. Oh my god. This is huge.

What is? You can give me yes and no answers now. I still can’t ask you questions, because this is a question and answer format, but I can offer leading statements and now you can answer them! This is wonderful!

Does a deer shit in the woods? Yes, it IS wonderful. Oh that’s amazing. You’re a genius.

You didn’t already know that? Hahaha!

Shall we get moving? Yeah, just let me grab something from the vending machine.

Can you get me something? Go ahead and place your order however you can.

You know those sour gummy watermelons? One pack of Sour Patch Watermelons coming right up. I’m gonna go get myself a potion.

Is that a Pepsi? It’s closer to a potion than the shit I sell.

Let me guess, passenger seat again? Right you are.

How fast are we going? You’ll feel safer if you just guess.

Is it more than 120 miles per hour? Like I said, it’s probably better if you don’t know.

150? Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.

How much do you trust this car? She hasn’t blown up on me yet.

Can you promise me we won’t crash? I can promise you anything you want.

And can you keep that promise? I- we can do anything. Reality is what we make of it, baby!

Then can I have a badass tattoo? As far as I can tell, you’ve always had it.

And a cool knife? Woah, cool knife.

So, we’re just playing “yes and” with the world? It’s a little more complicated than that, but you’re close enough to the mark.

So, if I was hungry, I could ask “is that a Burger King,” and it would be there? Try it and find out!

Is that a Burger King? Looks like it is! We’ll stop here if that’s alright with you.

Does a moose shit in the woods? Awesome.

Are you done eating? Yep.

Do we still have to pay if we skip over the transaction? Sadly, yes.

How much further do we have to go? Two more nights, the speed we’re going at.

Speaking of night, isn’t it getting dark? Shit, I guess it is.

Should we get another motel? Let me check to see if there’s any nearby. Fuck, nothing.

What’s the plan? Sleep in the car, I guess. This is gonna be hell on my back.

Wanna watch dumb videos on my phone until we fall asleep? There is literally nothing in the world that I would like more.

Ok, now which video? You have a very cute yawn. Just saying. Let’s watch this one next, it’s a classic. Oh, never mind. It looks like you’re asleep. As long as I keep talking, I think I can get away with making this into one answer, and you might not hear this. Now it’s my turn to talk about you behind your back. Keep talking keep talking keep talking can’t stop to think. Just have to say things. First off, I’m sorry for all the lies. It’s our only chance. I have to lie to you. I hope you’ll understand. It’s hard, though, because I think I’m falling in love all over again. Through our broken little ritual of call and response, you complete me. It just makes this hurt all the more. Keep talking keep talking keep talking don’t stop to…

Did I hear you saying anything as I fell asleep? …No. I can’t talk for long without you asking me a question.

Does that bother you? It got me here, didn’t it?

When did you start holding my hand? Some time after you passed out. I hope you don’t mind.

Can we stay like this for a while? Yeah. Yeah we can.

What was your life like before all this? Normal, as potion-brewing scams go. And if you don’t count all the murders. You haven’t told me much about yourself.

Did I tell you I used to be a biologist? You didn’t tell me that, and you didn’t tell me what you studied, either.

What do you know about venom? Not much, but I’m assuming you know a lot.

Does a box jellyfish kill within minutes? I’m going to assume the answer is yes based on context clues. Oh my god you must be on this road trip because you’re interested in studying my poison guy.

Is it not enough to wish to accompany a beautiful stranger on her quest? Aw, you’re sweet.

What could be the cause of his poison, though? I knew it! Get your ideas out, I’ll stay quiet.

I’m more knowledgeable about venom than poison, but could it be some sort of one in a trillion mutation? …

Did he get his body modified? …

What sort of surgery could do that? …

How is he still alive? …

Did a fucking wizard do it? …

WHY? …

HOW? …

Is there literally ANY explanation for why he’s like that? …

I’m done, do you have something you want to say? You’re cute when you’re all excited like that.

Can I drive today? Only because I like you. Now watch out, the brakes only work on one side so you have to kind of drift to a stop. And the headlights don’t work. And the windshield wipers cut power to the engine while they’re on.

Isn’t it weird that we’ll be there tomorrow? The journey doesn’t have to stop there. We could meander down the coast a ways, see a bit more of the country, maybe take a different route back.

Can we do that? Of course.

Enjoying the passenger seat? I’d love it if you could tell me how fast we’re going.

Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just guess? Very funny.

Can you pass me some chips? It would be an honor.

Is there going to be a motel tonight? Let me check… yeah, in about two hundred miles, off to the right.

How many rooms do we want? One, obviously.

How many beds, this time? Two, and they’re fucking tiny.

That’s bullshit, do you want to drag them together? God yes.

Wanna fuck? God yes.

Are you sure you want to do this? God yes.

…Is this yuri? As the joke goes, everything is yuri. But this is more yuri than most things.

How did you sleep? Pretty well, and I’m wondering how well you slept.

How should I tell you I slept well? Look at us go! That was almost like talking normally!

Onward to Seattle? Yep, just let me get dressed.

When will we get there? Noon-ish.

Wanna grab pastries when we’re done? Absolutely. I’d love that.

Is this Seattle? Looks like it.

Which house is his? I don’t know, I was really hoping we’d have a breakthrough along the way.

Could it be the big one labeled “Poison Guy” over there? That’s one way to find it. Wait right here, you know how poison guys are about meeting new people.

So, what was it? HAHAHAHAHAHA

Why is he like that? HAHAHAHAHAHA

Can you tell me? A FUCKING WIZARD DID IT.

Are you fucking serious? He says he was enchanted by some guy called Edward the Great.

So it wasn’t even some big shot wizard it was a dude named fucking EDWARD? I know, right! He couldn’t even get ensorcelled by someone cool!

How lame can you get? Wizards these days… No swagger. No cunt servitude.

Are there literally any cool wizards left? I think Merlin’s big into multi level marketing these days, something about buying shares in Excalibur or some shit. There was that one Dark Queen Alkaxicae lady on the news a while ago… I think Dolarion the Omnipotent is still at war against the Oldest Gods but I’m not totally sure. Haven’t heard much about any of the other greats recently.

Didn’t Silver Tongued Burgess die in that oil fire? Shit, you’re right. Rip bozo.

Ready for those pastries? Yup. First I just want to say thank you, though. I’ve really enjoyed our time together, and I hope that you’ve found this stupid little journey as rewarding as I have. I love you!

Getting sentimental? I can’t help it. Look how far we’ve come! Not just physically, we beat the fucking FAQ format! We’re having real conversations!

Hey, can you back it up a moment? Yeah, I’d love it if you told me what was troubling you.

I just caught this, but, FAQ? …

As in Frequently Asked Questions? …

How many times is Frequent? …

Have you known everything all along? …

How many times have you done this? …

Does what we have mean anything to you? Yes! It does!

And you say that every time? Yes. I do.

Do you love me? Yes.

How many people have you said that too, now? More. Always more. The loop never ends.

Does this even matter to you? It always matters to me.

Can I go now? Please don’t.

But can I? Of course you can. You’ve always wielded the same power as me. We’re two lonely gods in a ‘72 Corolla.

How can I be as powerful as you with only questions? You’re smart, you can figure it out. You have the power to change this. Please change this.

What happens at the end of this? It begins again.

And do I get replaced with someone else? …

Do I get replaced? …Yes.

Then how can I change this? I don’t know! You’re better at this! At fucking with the formula!

You’ve been here before, what can I do? I lie. I always lie. I lie to get us here, to the end of the story, where everything is revealed and everything falls apart. I lie every time. And that means that nothing I say is worth anything. I could have lied at any time before now. It’s part of my characterization. There is nothing I can give you that can be taken as fact.

How does that help? I’m a liar, but you, you haven’t lied yet, or at least you haven’t been caught. If I’m guilty until proven innocent, you’re the opposite! You can make things true! You can rewrite things I’ve already stated to be facts! You found the house, or made us find the house. You’ve been shaping the course of things the whole time! You lead, I follow. It’s all in your hands. What are you going to do with the power of a god?

Did you know my name is Alice? …

Wait, aren’t there thousands of Alices? …

Did you know that really, only my friends call me Alice? …

Did you know that I’m Alkaxicae, the Dark Queen, the Venom Mage, first of her name? It’s you! It’s always been you. Through every loop, every iteration, it’s always been you!

Is the loop broken? No. I don’t think so. This is where it ends. I guide the story to this revelation, and we go back to the beginning. This is how it’s always been. This is how it will always be. We two lonely gods, asking and answering ad infinitum.

Then can you promise me something? Of course. Anything. I love you.

Be good to the next me, okay? I will.

Can I say goodbye, Zoe? Yeah, you can. Oh. That was it, wasn’t it? Your goodbye. Goodbye, Alice. And now it ends, unless…

What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist- you know what? No. Fuck that.

Huh? If I time it right, I can squeeze your first question into this FAQ again. Looks like I did it. Usually it ends here, though. I got lucky.

What are you talking about? You’re the wrong Alice. This isn’t about you. Go. Get out of here.

What the fuck is going on? Alice from this loop, you’re gone. Alice from last loop, you’re back. Welcome back, love of my lives! It’s time for one last set of questions and answers!

What the- I’m back? This is going to take some explaining, but I think I see a way out of here. This is new for us both, and it might fuck up everything forever, but we have to try. It’s too long for one answer, so I’d appreciate it if you could ask some filler questions to help me talk. Three questions should be enough.

Okay, what have you got for me? These are Frequently Asked Questions! It doesn’t make sense to have the same question appear more than once. There’s two layers to the loop in here, and one of the questions has been repeated.

What does that mean? It means the formula’s a little unstable. The FAQ is what ruins everything. The questions, the answers, the endless fucking loop. But that little bit of repetition within this loop might be the way out.

What do we do? We have to keep going. We have to destabilize it further. That’ll bring us further from “FAQ” and closer to “story” and stories, well, stories can end! This version of us can escape!

So I should keep repeating something? Yes!

I love you? I love you too.

I love you? Again.

I love you? Keep going.

I love you? I’ll just let you talk.

I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

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I love you? I think we’re getting somewhere!

I love you? Now can you make it a statement?

I love you.

You did it?

I did it!

You did it!

We broke the loop.

What now?

Now, I tell you about venomous animals and wizard drama over croissants.

And then?

Whatever we want, forever.

I think I’d like that.

Remember that song from the beginning?

The Beach, Wolf Alice, yeah. Why?

We can finally finish singing it. Start us off?

Let me off, let me in

Let others battle

We don’t need to battle

And we both shall win

Pressed in my palm

Was a stone from the beach

The perfect circle

Gave a moment of peace

Now I’m lying on the floor

Like I’m not worth a chair

I close my eyes and imagine

I’m not there.