#anyway this is your warning part 2 that this is my dash for the next idk few weeks

[its-your-mind]

ALRIGHT IVE BEEN HOLDING ALL OF MY INSANE AND DETAILED THEORIES INSIDE FOR FOUR MONTHS AND THEY HAVE GROWN AND FESTERED INTO SOMETHING ENTIRELY THEIR OWN AND I’M MAKING THEM ALL YOUR PROBLEM NOW HERE WE GOOOOO

okay so anyway my current main theory is that Jon Martin and Jonah got schlorped into this other reality along with the fears but the way it happened led to EITHER their weird entrapment in mostly digital media (a lá the Leitners), which ALSO led to Jon and Martin and Jonah also getting stuck in whatever this equivalent of collecting fear-based stories shit is. So obvs they’re those three voices Norris (Martin), Chester (Jon), Augustus (Jonah) (Jon and Jonah are ENTIRELY guesses at present - if it is Jonah he’s the one with the v pretentious-sounding name for SURE tho) I have forgotten what those names are. Apologies.

Anyway I think it’s a weird fusion of whatever the Web was attempting with that website that collected stories, AND the role of the archive AND the creation of the panopticon by a man who was VERY. DEDICATED. TO. SORTING. AND. CATEGORIZING. So they’re collecting data, archiving stories for the Eye (Jon is still the Pupil and the Archivist, after all), but Jon and Martin prolly wanna help. Categorize. Give these people a fighting fucking chance. If I think about them too hard rn I’ll have an emotional breakdown so that’s a post for another time.

But anyway. The forced categorizing (dolls, watching / dolls, skin / all the subcategories under “Reanimation”). The voices reading them out. All of the computers and cameras and mics recording all these convos between the employees. The organization whose job is just reading and filing supernatural data and stories accurately which is important for some reason that no one can really understand or explain. Hahaha. Sounds familiar.

Anyway I’m obsessed with all of these new characters. I’m so excited to spend all of the time with them!! And be terrified of the horrors that are gonna come after them!!!!

[weakformingyu]

You are my favorite

Pairing: Lee Know x afab!reader

Part 2 of Can I be your favorite?(Recommended to read the first part for context)

Genre: smut, fluff, angst(the tiniest bit)

Summary: you let your insecurities come in between your new relationship with Minho, luckily for you though, he's not gonna let you run away so easily.

Words count: 3,076

THIS CONTENT IS +18, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Warnings: oral(f. receiving), unprotected piv(wrap it before you tap it ffs), creampie, marking, hickeys, dirty talk(barely), Minho is possessive asf(is it even my fic if he's not possessive?), reader is insecure

You were sore when you woke up the next morning — or should you say, afternoon? It was already 2pm when you opened your eyes, finding Minho's place empty by your side.

You look around the room, now there's enough light coming from the windows for you to be able to see the room. You don't know how to explain it but it fits Minho perfectly, the decoration is discreet but not basic and it shows a lot of his personality, more than you're aware of.

You get up, not really sure what you're supposed to do. So you collect your things and start getting dressed, tying your hair in a ponytail to try and conceal the mess.

When you open the door, you look around before getting out, not sure if you're going to find someone and a bit embarrassed to be going away at this hour. You get down the stairs, walking past the kitchen at a quick pace but before you can turn the knob, you hear a voice behind you.

“Minho, your girl is trying to escape”, he yells, making you spin on your heels quickly looking at the telltale just to find a boy, who you're sure is Jeongin, the youngest of the frat house.

“Never thought you would be the type to smash and dash”, your crush says, popping out of the kitchen.

“I'm not!” You defend yourself, crossing your arms.

“That's not what it looks like to me”, he shrugs.

“I was just looking for you”, you lie and he scoffs, walking towards you.

“You shouldn't lie, princess”, he leans closer to you, making you gulp. “I don't like liars”, he whispers. Smirking when he sees your breath quickening and the way you lick your lips nervously. “Anyways, you can go if you want. I'll pick you up at 8”

“F-for what?” You ask, trying to recompose yourself.

“I told you I was going to take you out for dinner, didn't I?”

"I can't believe you're really going on a date with Minho”, Jihyo says, clapping excitedly while she searches for something in your wardrobe.

“I don't why he wants to go on a date with me”

“‘cause you're hot?” Your best friend says, as if it's obvious.

“He has a hundred other hot girls to take on dates”, you scoff, making Jihyo throw a pillow at you.

“Stop with the self depreciation, he doesn't want the other girls, he wants you. So get your ass over here so I can help you with your makeup”

You were hopeful but didn't think Minho would actually do as he promised. At exactly 8pm, you heard a knock on the door and Jihyo squealed, giving you a thumbs up and sending you to your date.

Minho was looking exceptionally handsome in all black, hands tucked in the pockets of his pants. He stares at you up and down with a grin on his lips.

“You look good”, he tells you, enjoying seeing your cheeks turning a dark shade of red.

“Y-you look nice too”, you say, stepping outside and closing the door behind you.

You are seated in front of him, not really sure what to do next, you two ordered your food and some expensive wine that you never heard about. The ride to the restaurant was a bit awkward, you felt the need to say something but didn't know what to say so you talked about the weather not realizing that he liked seeing you trying, nervous like a bunny being hunted by a predator, him.

“So, what's your major?” He asks, taking you out of your thoughts. He's resting his face on his hand while watching you fidget on your seat.

“Engineering”, you answer, sipping on the glass of water the waiter poured to you.

“That's interesting”, he smiles. “I'm a dance major”, he tells you.

“I know”, you say without thinking, covering your mouth immediately. “I mean, everyone knows”, you smile sheepishly.

“Ah, yes. You like me, right?” He smirks, proudly, making your face turn as red as a tomato.

“Please, stop saying that, it's embarrassing”, you hide your face in your hands.

“It's embarrassing that you like me?” He chuckles, tilting his head.

“You were not supposed to know that”, you clarify, “it's pathetic that I have feelings for someone who didn't even know I existed until last night”, you sigh.

“I clearly knew you existed, since I knew that you like me”, he teases. “I don't think it's pathetic, the heart wants what it wants”

“Is that why you dated all those girls?” You ask, naively, making his eyes grow wide. He didn't think you'd be that straightforward.

“No, I'm not one to rejected a nice looking girl”, he shrugs, “they just didn't manage to be more than that to me, but I'm sure they can be something more for someone else”

“Ah”, you nod, feeling awkward.

“Do you want to date me?” He asks nonchalantly like he's asking how was your day, making you choke on the water you just drank.

“What?” You ask, shocked.

“I think I was very clear”, he answers, scowling.

“Why would you want to date me?”

“I guess you heard me well”, he teases, “you're my type”, Minho clarifies.

“I don't think I'm, though”, you oppose.

“I think I know better than you who is or is not my type”

“I mean, I'm not pretty like your other girlfriends”, you push.

“Firstly: why would I want someone just like the people I broke up with? Second: I think you're pretty”

You feel your whole face hot, covering your mouth instantly so he doesn't see the stupid smile you have on your lips.

“Also, I like fucking you”, he ruins the moment, smirking, “I wanna keep doing that”

“What a gentleman”, you roll your eyes, ignoring the heat growing on your lower stomach. He doesn't need to know that you'd give anything for him to fuck you right now on the restroom of the restaurant.

“I can be one”, he stretches his arm, grabbing your hand, caressing it. “Or I can be the opposite of that, it's your call”, he shrugs.

That's precisely how you ended up fucking on the restaurant’s restroom. He pulled you inside the confined space, bending you on the sink and before you could prepare yourself his cock was inside of you.

“Fuck, kitten”, he groans, covering your mouth, not slowing down his thrusts. “You have to be quiet if you don't wanna get caught”, you nod, crying out, seeing his smirk through the reflection of the mirror.

You ended up dating him. It's not like it's a sacrifice for you or anything but you couldn't wrap your head around the reason that the Lee Minho would want to date you of all people. People's reaction was different from the one you expected too, they didn't really care, thinking he was going to dump you in a week.

However, to their surprise and especially yours, he didn't. Minho never even brought up the idea of breaking up and when you realized, two months had already passed.

After two months you still couldn't believe you were dating him and how hot he is, you always thought he was the most handsome man you ever saw but dating him hits differently. Now you can see him after a shower, coming out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his hip, his muscular chest bare for you to drool over. He cooks for you, making your favorite foods or some you never ate before. He brings you snacks and makes side dishes for you to eat at home. Minho picks you up before class and takes you back home after or he invites you to sleep over at the frat. You're already acquainted with all his friends, they even come looking for you to show you things when you're in the house. It makes you wonder if they acted like that with all of his girlfriends. Two months of the sweetest romance and the best sex you've ever had.

At least it was. You're not going to deny it, you're insecure. Minho is someone you never thought you could reach, so to be his girlfriend? It's something you never imagined. As he told you before, he has a great number of options, so the possibility that he'll replace you anytime, scares you.

You try forgetting about that, try not to overthink, until you find him at the library with a girl all over him. She's beautiful, perfect skin and shiny hair, she's hanging too close to him, touching his arm and throwing her head back in an exaggerated laugh. She's actually touching him at any chance she gets and you're there paralyzed like an idiot, watching it.

You feel the tears brimming in your eyes and you turn around and walk to the opposite side. You are his girlfriend, you should definitely step in, but in all honesty, you are too scared. Scared he'll look at you like you are nothing, that he's finally going to look at you with cold eyes like you have been waiting for it to happen.

You don't talk to him for days, avoiding meeting with him and ignoring his calls. You know it's childish to just ignore someone like that but you just needed to prepare yourself for the dreadful conversation you were about to have. It's going to be for the best if you two break up, he can go back to the way he lived before and you can stop worrying about when he's going to get tired of you.

It's not a surprise when Minho shows up at your door, you expected that to happen but wasn't expecting his appearance. He has his hair disheveled, deep eye bags under his eyes and he looks furious.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He asks, angrily, not even greeting you and storming inside your apartment like a hurricane. “Why did you disappear?”

“I needed to think”, you murmur, closing the door behind you.

“Think about what? You should at least have answered my texts”, he huffs, taking his jacket off and throwing it on the couch.

“About us”, you answer him, making his face soften a bit.

“What about us?” He asks, tilting his head in confusion.

“I think it's best if we break up”, you tell him at once, not really capable of dragging this conversation for too long, it was already so hard to say that sentence, you are about to cry at any minute.

“What are you on about?” He frowns, taking a step closer to you, but you take a step back.

“I'm trying to make the right decision for the both of us”, you sigh, “it's not like this is going to last anyways, you should go find someone who's on your level”

He scoffs, breathing a laugh. You expected any other reaction of him, but that one was not included.

“So that is what this is about”, he starts walking towards you and you start stepping back, until you bump into the kitchen table with nowhere else to run. Minho gets closer to you, looking down on you as he cages you between the table and his body.

“My kitten is insecure, is that it?” He asks, making you blush with the pet name. Minho never gets tired of making you flustered.

“I'm not”, you lie, avoiding his gaze.

“You know I don't like liars”, he tells you, “but I guess it's on me, if I did a better job as your boyfriend you wouldn't be feeling like this’, he pouts.

“You are a great boyfriend”, you murmur, trying not to look into his eyes, he's too close.

“Hm? I am?” He teases. “Then what's it, kitten, did you find someone more interesting than me?” He smiles, it was supposed to be a joke but the way your eyes widened with that simple suggestion makes him a bit mad. “Is that it?” He asks, narrowing his eyes to stare at you.

“No, there's no one like that”, you tell him.

“Then why did you hesitate?”, he raises his brows in questioning. You were just too shocked to answer right away but he doesn't let you tell him that. “Nice way to make me angry”, he scoffs. “I told you I can be a fucking gentleman so why do you always make me be the opposite of that?” He asks, taking a step closer to you and pressing his body against yours. His hands slide around your waist, caging you even more in his hold.

“Minho, I-”, you try to speak but he tsks, interrupting you.

“You need to learn a lesson”, he tells you, leaning closer and brushing his lips on your cheek, trailing it down to your jaw and then your neck. “You are mine”, he whispers before attaching his mouth to your neck, biting on your skin so hard you whine with the pain.

His hands slide down to your ass, squeezing it and pulling you up, to sit on the table. You were on your pjs already ready to sleep and that makes his access to your body easier, the thin fabric of your clothes can barely block the warmth coming from his body to yours.

Minho pops open his dress shirt, letting it slide and fall on the floor, watching your reaction to him. You bite on your bottom lip, staring at his muscular chest. He always looks so good, you feel like moaning just by looking at him.

“Min…”, you murmur, spreading your legs wide for him. It's not like you can resist him anyways.

“There you are”, he smiles, unbuckling his pants and letting it fall down at his feet, “my needy girl”

You avoid his eyes, pulling your shirt off to reveal your bare chest to him.

“You look so hot, all spread for me like this”, he smiles, getting on his knees. Minho pulls the waistband of your shorts and panties down, watching your glistening cunt in excitement. “Is this because of me or are you thinking about someone else?” He pushes, finally seeing you look at him, shaking your head frantically.

“It's all you, the only one I think about is you”, you confess, feeling your cheeks hot.

Minho grins, putting your legs over his shoulders and kissing your inner thighs. He licks your pussy slightly, just teasing you, making you put your hands on his head to force him against your core.

You can feel him smile, licking a long strip between your folds, attaching his lips to your clit next. Minho slides his hand between your legs, inserting two fingers inside of you, going in and out while he sucks your aching core, grunting and groaning with you pulling on his hair and he watches as you become undone in his mouth.

You can feel your orgasm coming, your toes curl immediately and you buck your hips against his mouth desperately, chasing your high and when the knot on your lower stomach finally explodes, you moan loudly, trembling in his embrace.

Minho stands up, cleaning around his mouth with his fingers and then licking on them.

“Still my favorite taste”, he smirks. You look stunning with your soft lips parted and hair disheveled, your chest rises and falls in a fast rhythm.

“This is going to be the last time I'll let you have your way”, you try looking the least bit believable while stating that, but that only makes him chuckle, stroking his cock a few times before he comes closer to you.

“And that only proves that you still haven't understood the situation you're in”, he tells you, teasing your entrance with the head of his cock while he waits for you to stop him but you don't, you want to feel him inside you so fucking much that it seems like you're going crazy. He pushes in, feeling your cunt squeezing him deliciously. “Fuck”, Minho murmurs. Your arms wrap around his waist, burying your nails in his skin, the snap of his hips against yours making you breathless.

He kisses you, feeling your sweet lips against his only adds to the building up of his orgasm, you look so pretty, you're perfect for him, your pussy is perfect for him, he won't let you end things with him that easily.

He pulls away from you for a moment, your mouth is parted and your eyes are glossy, he wants to hold you forever.

“I'm in love with you”, he confesses, thrusts faltering a bit. Your eyes grow wide to his sudden revelation. “You won't get rid of me that easily, kitten”, he groans, pressing his lips against yours one more time.

That's enough for you to cum, squirming and trembling in his embrace, while you watch him breathlessly thrust inside of you, eyes locked with yours.

“Do it inside”, you cry out, overstimulated after your second orgasm. Minho groans, bending towards you and kissing you, spilling his hot cum inside you while he bites on your lips.

He rests his head on your shoulder, breathless, trying to recompose himself.

“Don't ever talk about breaking up, ever again”, he pulls away to look at you, finding your eyes brimming with tears.

“But I saw that girl hitting on you the other day at the library”, you pout, making him sigh, cupping your face with both of his hands.

“Yes, she was hitting on me but I told her I have a really smart, hot girlfriend and that I was not interested”, he tells you, making you feel like the greatest idiot in the world.

“I'm sorry, I should have checked with you first”, you say, “I just love you so much, I'm scared you're going to dump me”, you confess, making him chuckle. His heart beating like crazy, it's the first time you openly say you love him.

“Y/n, you're stuck with me for a long time”, he gives you a peck on the lips, “I won't ever do anything to hurt you, okay?”

You nod, feeling warmth spreading all over your chest.

“Now, you better prepare yourself, ‘cause you need to receive some punishment for disappearing and making me worry”, he tells you, showing you that devilish smirk of his and before you can run to save yourself, Minho is picking you up and dragging you to your room.

[asahicore]

kiwi and layla - sjy

pairing. jake x fem!reader synopsis. in which you mistake jake’s backpack for your own, making you each go home with the other’s bag. both of you are too curious for your own good, so you quickly find out that you excel in the subject the other is failing - a mutual tutoring agreement ensues, and it turns into much more than what you had expected. genre. high school au, f2l, lots of fluff and some angst too, f2l, shy reader x outgoing jake warnings. food & swearing, mention of parent death and divorce, kms jokes, jake being stupid but also really cute (lmk if i've missed any!) word count. 26.3k a/n. this is part of the unexpected collab !!! go check out the other fics and caelin thank u for hosting <333 hope u guys like this one, it took me a while but i had so so much fun writing it !!! i love my jakey in here he's a little bit confused but he's got the spirit. @zreamy thanks for being the world's awesomest beta reader and a decent friend ig... 2 baddies wouldnt be the same without you... lifeguard wet body sunghoon coming soon guys dont miss it! as always pls remember how important reblogs and feedback is for us writers!!! it's what keeps us going <3 enjoy!!

listen to the playlist!

This was not your backpack. 

In your defense, it looked so similar to yours - scratch that, it was the exact same as yours - that you couldn’t possibly have been able to tell the difference between the two bags until you’d opened one of them. Just a basic black Eastpak that probably a hundred other kids in your school owned with nothing to tell them apart, because you hadn’t had the mind to add a little something to it and make it recognizable. You hadn’t really needed to - your backpack was always on your back, next to your seat or in your locker. There was no way you might lose it or mistake it with another.

Until today, obviously. Instead of having a chill last class before spring break like every other teacher, your psycho math teacher Mr Choi had decided to give you a major test on this otherwise beautiful Friday afternoon. While other students watched a movie or played Kahoot, you were stuck in a cold classroom with algebra questions in front of you. Mr Choi had argued that this would be better than having a test after the holidays and ruining your time off with studying, but a test was a test, and math was math, so you hated the idea anyway. 

To eliminate all cheating possibilities, Mr Choi made his students only take a pencil and eraser with them, leave their bag at the back of the classroom and put their phone in a box he kept on his desk. Plus, with his hawk eyes watching intently, there was no way to sneak answers on a small sheet of paper or even on your palm. 

When the test was over, your brain was so fried and you were so eager to get the hell out of there that you didn’t even notice the two identical black backpacks next to each other, you just grabbed the first one you saw, not even questioning that it might not be yours.

And indeed, yours it was not. From your snooping around, you quickly found out it belonged to one Jake Sim. 

You knew Jake. Although you’d been attending the same school for the past three years, you could probably count the number of times you’d talked on one hand - but you knew him. Or at least, you knew of him. You knew that he was good at STEM subjects and that he was on the soccer team; you knew he was a really sweet guy and was easy to talk to, even for someone shy like you. 

Most importantly, you knew he was friends with Park Sunghoon. This was important because you had liked Park Sunghoon since the moment you’d laid eyes on him - or rather, your whole friend group had. It might’ve sounded extremely odd to others, but you and your friends had a few random people at school you liked to keep tabs on or create backstories for, and Sunghoon, because of his dashing looks that had struck all four of you in your first week of freshman year, was one of your victims. Well, you liked to think of them as characters on a TV show rather than victims, but to each his own. Your other characters included that popular sophomore who already considered herself a celebrity because of her ten thousand followers on TikTok anyway, the French and Spanish teachers you were sure had a thing going on, and that one guy in Yena’s biology class that only showed up every two weeks but always looked stoned (hat guy, Chaewon liked to call him, even you’d never once seen him with a hat on). It was all harmless, really - none of you ever actually went up and talked to them, just discussed them among yourselves.

Perhaps Sunghoon was different, because each of you had had a class with him at some point, so you’d all had at least shared a word with him. You probably hadn’t talked to him more times than you’d talked to Jake, so the information you knew about him was pretty surface-level - he was an ice skater, but everyone knew that, and he was shy like you, which was immediately noticeable. He also had one of the most handsome faces you’d ever seen. But again, everyone who saw him knew that.

You, Yena and Chaewon had debated whether one of you should just go ahead and make a move (Hyewon didn’t participate because she already had a boyfriend, but she was all for approaching the boy). You guessed you could describe what you felt towards Sunghoon as a sort of crush, even if it was one you shared with your friends - you found him cute, and you got nervous when he was around. But you were more the watch-from-afar-and-pine type, so you were satisfied with liking him from a distance. You didn’t think you actually had the guts to strike a conversation with him - that was more Chaewon’s thing.

However, this didn’t mean you weren’t curious about the contents of his best friend’s backpack. Your being shy didn’t mean you weren’t interested in other people’s lives - if anything, you were quite nosy. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but you were just a regular teenage girl, so this was fine, right? After just a few minutes of snooping, you found out Jake Sim wasn’t hiding any big state secrets in his Eastpak, anyway. Just some textbooks, notebooks, and a lot of single sheets of paper. It was pretty messy in there. 

Your idea of him being good at STEM subjects was correct - he kept all of his graded tests in the sleeve pocket of his math notebook, and there was not a single one that had received a note under 95. He even seemed to be doing some extracurricular exercises - there were formulae that were completely unfamiliar to you and that you were sure you hadn’t done in class. You found it slightly insane, but that might have just been because you despised math and wouldn’t understand why someone would want to do more of it than was required of them. 

His English homework was another story. His essays had more red from the teacher’s pen than his own black ink, and from the grades on his reading comprehension tests, you highly doubted he’d actually read any of the assigned books. You weren’t in the same English class but apparently had the same teacher, Ms Park, so you were studying the same thing. You couldn’t help but cringe as you read his answers on a Pride and Prejudice reading test - he seemingly kept mixing the sisters up, assigning actions and character traits to Lydia that clearly belonged to Jane. At least he somewhat got Darcy right, writing that “he’s probably not as bad as he looks,” with no further explanation. 

As you aimlessly flipped through his English notebook, curious about the way he took his notes - or if he even took any - you noticed some scribbles in the margins. Looking closer, some of them were in his handwriting while others were in an unfamiliar one. It looked like some sort of conversation, so you assumed the other writing belonged to his deskmate. You also did this with your friends in classes where the teacher was very strict about no chatting in class.

dude coach said if I fail any of my classes I would be out of the team, you read Jake’s handwriting.

Wait seriously????

yeah and I suck at english so Im scared it might actually happen

You just need to study more bro

bro I DO but this shit is hard

Then find someone to help you

neither of you guys is that good in that subject either tho

Ok ouch but also just find someone else then

bro who

IDK man 

Y/N maybe ? she’s good at English and she’s nice so she might say yes 

there you go about y/n again dude MAYBE you ask HER to teach you some sonnets

Shut up you’re the one who needs help dumbass

whatever isn’t it weird just asking her randomly though like i dont want her to feel like she has to say yes

Lol if she sees your grades she might do it out of pity

fuck u man

You were surprised to see your own name written there - it felt weird knowing that Jake and his friend were talking about you, for some reason. And what if that friend was Sunghoon? You had a hard time believing he not only knew you existed, but thought of you as good at English and nice. You liked to think both of these things were true. 

He was also spot-on about saying you would agree to helping out Jake in those subjects, but what he got wrong was thinking you’d do it out of pity. Clearly, you and Jake were in very similar positions. You didn’t have any sort of club you’d be kicked out of if you failed a class, but it sure as hell wouldn’t look good on your college applications, so you needed to get your math grades up. 

Jake and you both desperately needed something the other person could help with, so you had a feeling he wouldn’t turn down the offer that was brewing in your head.

—

This was not Jake’s backpack.

He noticed it right away - it was much heavier than his own and the straps were tighter around his shoulders than they should be. He looked inside for some clues about who it might belong to, and luckily, the first thing he found was a journal that had Y/N’S DIARY written on the cover page in big, pink letters. 

Unluckily, however, he’d also noticed that you had practically sprinted out of the classroom as soon as the bell rang, and indeed, you were already far gone when he tried looking for you around school. He had to get to soccer practice anyway, so he put the issue to the side for the time being.

When he got home, he had to shower then have dinner, so it wasn’t until 8 p.m. that he remembered he had your backpack. He had meant to text you straightaway about it, and he knew it was wrong to look into someone’s belongings, but he couldn’t help himself, especially when his best friend Sunghoon had liked you for ages. Maybe this was an opportunity to find out more about you.

Your mind-blowing grades in English don’t come as much of a surprise to him, and after reading through your most recent essay, he thought you definitely deserved them. Your essay was on a Shakespeare play he had never heard of - you apparently also had Ms Park for English, and he didn’t know she was doing Shakespeare in class, so he wondered for a second if you were actually crazy enough to read another book and study it. As if 300 pages of Jane Austen weren’t enough as it was. 

What shocked him were your math grades. It was like looking into a fucked-up mirror: while you excelled at English, you sucked at math; while he excelled at math, he sucked at English. You were just as close to failing your math class as he was at failing English.

Now that he thought about it, maybe Sunghoon’s idea hadn’t been so dumb - you could help him out, and he had an actual argument as to why you should, rather than just using pity on you.

As he put your stuff back in your bag, he was reminded of something - your diary. For some reason, the pretty floral pattern on the cover made him feel even worse for opening the journal in the first place, but he did it anyway. Either you’d only just picked up the habit of writing in a diary or you had finished your previous one recently, but this one seemed pretty new, as only about ten pages had been filled with your neat handwriting. Judging from the dates at the top of almost every page, you wrote in there everyday, and Jake only felt even worse that you hadn’t been able to write in it that day.

Still, he flicked to the first page and started reading. And he read and read, unable to take his eyes away from your diary. He thought he wouldn’t have cared much and a page would have satisfied his curiosity, but the way you wrote about the people around you and about yourself fascinated him. Basic high school things like friend drama and annoying teachers actually became interesting through your words. You didn’t use particularly complicated sentences or unheard-of words, on the contrary, you used simple language, and that spoke a lot more to Jake than any of the classics he’d attempted to read for class. 

And then, he saw an all too familiar name in an entry dated from just a few days ago. 

I sat next to Sunghoon today. It was during physics and both of our desk partners were absent, so Mrs Kim made me change seats. She always does this, and I used to wonder whether she hated to see an empty seat or to see a student sitting on their own, but whatever the reason, today, I was just happy about it. This isn’t our first time sitting next to each other in class, but I was still nervous, since I wasn’t expecting it. I hope he couldn’t feel the awkwardness practically oozing off of me or the way I very obviously struggled with the exercises (obviously, anything to do with math is not my forte). We shared my textbook because he’d forgotten his, and he showed me his notes when he saw I couldn’t keep up with Mrs Kim as she told us what to write down. We only exchanged a few words but I was satisfied when class was over. It’s odd, because you’d think someone would want to talk to the person they like and get to know them more, but I don’t feel that with Sunghoon. Maybe it’s because we’re both so introverted, and he seems to have just as hard a time as I do starting conversations, so I’ve sort of accepted our silent fate. I’m fine just continuing to steal glances at him from across the cafeteria. 

After that, there were a few more pages of writing up until yesterday's entry, but it was the only mention of Sunghoon. Jake had apparently been wrong to think that a girl’s diary would be full of rantings about her crush and things along the lines of “omg, he looked at me today”. 

But you had very clearly referred to Sunghoon as the person you liked, and Jake wasn’t going to let that go so easily. This was precious information that he held in his hands now, so he had to figure out how to deal with it properly for your sake as well as his friend’s.

Turns out there was more he could help you with than just algebra.

—

Seeing Jake Sim in a setting other than school was slightly odd, if you were being completely honest. 

You had just been about to text him about the backpack mix-up when you’d received a message from the man himself, asking if you could meet up the next day to exchange them. In response, you’d asked where you should meet, thinking he’d offer either his house or yours, or some halfway point between them, but he surprised you by proposing some café in the center of town. They have good hot chocolate there, he’d said, and that had been enough to convince you. 

And also I have something I want to talk to you about. 

Your stomach had turned at this message - what on Earth could Jake Sim need to discuss with you had been your first thought, and then you realized you also had plans you wanted to share with him. So his idea of going to a café was actually good for you, too.

You’d only been waiting for about five minutes when he appeared at the café, red and panting from seemingly sprinting to his destination. 

“Y/N, I’m sooo sorry,” he immediately said when he saw you waiting. “I was planning to be early, but when I got on the bus I realized I literally forgot your bag, so I had to go back but the next bus wasn’t for another twenty minutes so I just ran the whole way here, and now I’m all sweaty, and I’m late, and I’m really sorry.”

He’d rushed through his sentence and was breathing heavily as he looked at you expectantly, waiting for your answer. He seemed so genuinely sorry for such a small thing that after your surprise faded, you started laughing. It was his turn to be surprised, and he immediately stopped talking at the sound of your soft giggles.

“It’s okay, Jake. I haven’t even been waiting five minutes,” you explained, smiling. “Let’s just go in, yeah?”

Jake’s heart did something weird just then, and the feeling was so unfamiliar and confusing that he decided to promptly ignore it. As if in a daze, he stood still for a couple of seconds until the sound of a bell ringing, the one the café had on its doors to signify the entrance or exit of a customer, snapped him out of it. He followed you into the shop, let you order and pay for you both (“I’m the one who took the wrong bag, it’s the least I can do,” you’d said) and sat across from you at a booth in the back.

You gave each other your respective bags back, then started chatting as you sipped on your hot chocolates (Jake had been right - they really were delicious). He was surprisingly easy to talk to, and whether he sensed you were a reserved person or was just naturally talkative, you liked that he both managed to do most of the talking and ask you loads of questions at once. Usually, you wouldn’t have really cared to listen to someone go on and on about their passion for soccer and the recent game that their team had won, but for some reason, you were hooked on Jake’s every word. The way his eyes widened in excitement as he recounted the winning goal he scored, the way the volume of his voice decreased as he filled you in on the team gossip even though no one was listening to your conversation, the way his grin turned into a proud smirk as he mentioned his coach congratulating him - every single one of his actions had you mesmerized. You’d never seen anyone so expressive in their speech, never seen anyone punctuate every sentence with a movement or a facial expression. It was just fun, listening to him.

Even when he didn’t talk, he stayed expressive. He asked you whether you did anything outside of school, and he listened intently as you told him about the theater group you’re in, humming and nodding and laughing at all the right moments. Usually, you wouldn’t have talked about it for more than thirty seconds, afraid to bore others with unnecessary details, but Jake’s reactions and the questions he asked made you actually feel listened to and like what you were talking about was interesting. So you grew more confident and told him what you loved about acting and about theater, about your own gossip (the arrogant actress who got the lead role and thought she was better than everyone else, that one guy who was clearly flirting with three girls at the same time), and you almost couldn’t believe Jake seemed so entertained by your stories. 

“So, you said your group focused on more classic plays, right? Does that mean you’re good at English Lit?”

With his spoon, Jake scooped some whipped cream into his mouth, hoping he was appearing as nonchalant as he was trying to be. He had to make you think he’d deduced that just now and not because he had been snooping through your backpack just the night prior. 

You, however, could not have cared less how he’d figured it out - you were just grateful he had segued into this topic of school and grades, because you’d been wanting to bring it up yourself but had no idea how.

“Um, yeah, actually, it’s my best subject. Math, on the other hand…”

You chuckled as his eyes widened and he leaned in across the table, pointing his spoon at you as he spoke. “See, that’s interesting, because math is my best subject, but I suck at English Lit.”

“Oh, really?” you asked, trying to sound genuinely surprised even though this piece of information was not at all new to you.

“Yeah,” he said, looking back down at his almost-finished drink with a small smile on his face.

“You know-”

“You know-”

You and Jake had spoken at the same time, and your eyes locked for a second before you started laughing. You gestured at him to go on first.

“I actually need pretty urgent help in English. Coach said he’ll put us out of the team if we fail even just one of our courses, and I’m very close to failing that class.” He took a moment to let out a sigh. “So, if you want, we could help each other out. Me with math, and you with English.” 

His eyebrows were slightly furrowed and he bit his lip as he looked at you expectantly. You thought he looked far too nervous for such a simple request, expression more like a boy who’d just asked his crush to the prom rather than offering mutual help you both desperately needed. You couldn’t help the smile that grew on your lips - you had never known Jake Sim to be so… cute. But he was waiting for an answer, so you pushed the thought out of your head.

“That’s a great idea, actually,” you replied, as if you hadn’t had the exact same idea. You were just relieved you hadn’t even had to bring it up yourself. “I also really can’t afford to fail math. It would look terrible on college applications.”

Jake let out a long, loud exhale. “God, yeah, college, I hadn’t even thought of that. Even more motivation to get better grades now,” he said with a chuckle.

You chuckled along, then cleared your throat and sat up straighter. You watched with amusement as Jake mirrored your actions and even the fake serious frown in your brows. You presented your hand for him to shake, which he did without hesitation.

“So it’s a deal then. We’ll tutor each other until we’ve gotten our grades up.”

“Deal,” he replied. As you both withdrew your hands, he dropped his serious facade and burst into giggles, a sound you hadn’t expected from the boy but somehow fit him well. You watched his face closely for a second, noticing the curl of his lips and the crinkle at the corner of his eyes, before breaking into laughter yourself.

You stayed in the café for another half hour, going over details of where and when you’d meet, of what exactly you needed help with (“Everything,” you’d said, to which Jake had replied “Same”), and just talked some more.

“I’m taking the 53 that way,” Jake said when you exited the café, pointing towards the bus stop.

“Oh, so am I!” you exclaimed.

“Seriously?! What’s your stop?”

And that’s how you and Jake figured out you only lived two bus stops away from each other. 

“That’s so cool! It’ll make it easy to meet up then,” he said, and you hummed in agreement. After a pause, he added: “But if we live so close to each other, how come we didn’t go to the same schools earlier? Aren’t you usually supposed to go to the one in your district?”

“I used to live in another part of town,” you explained. “Then my parents divorced when I was in middle school, and I stayed with my dad because he lived closer to the school I was at, but I moved to my mom’s place for high school.”

“‘Cause she lives closer?”

“Yeah, basically.” There was more to it, but you didn’t think Jake would be particularly interested in your parental issues - although you surprised yourself for even considering telling him. If Jake sensed that you weren’t saying everything, he didn’t push, just swiftly changed the topic as you waited for the bus to come.

When you got home some time later, the first thing you did was open your diary and start writing. It had felt wrong not to write in it even just for a day, so it was a relief to feel the pages between your fingers and the familiar scent of the paper and your perfumed pen. You wrote without thinking too much, simply letting all of your musings out into your diary and freely brushing the tip of your pen across the pages. 

You didn’t ever reread your entries right after writing them, but if you had that day, you might have noticed all you could write about was the boy you’d drank a hot chocolate with.

—

Spring break week passed by far too quickly, and it was on the first Monday back at school that you and Jake met again. He had soccer practice on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays, while you had theater rehearsals on Thursdays and Saturdays, so you’d agreed to meet up every Monday and Wednesday after school. Since his mother worked as the school nurse, she drove him to and from school everyday - so on Monday, you met Jake in front of the nurse’s station, waiting for his mom to wrap things up before she drove you both to their home.

You had been surprised to learn that the kind nurse that never asked too many questions and always let students take a nap if they didn’t feel well was Jake’s mom, but upon reflection, it made sense. Once you knew, it was almost obvious that she had raised him - they shared the same friendliness, the same comforting smile and the same ability to make conversation. The whole ride home, she asked you about yourself and thanked you for agreeing to tutor “our little Jakey,” because “God knows he needs the help.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh when a blush crept on Jake’s face and he looked out the passenger seat window with an embarrassed frown, muttering something like “Thanks a lot, Mom.”

She noticed his reaction and laughed along with you. “I’m just saying, Jakey-poo. It’s good to know to ask for help when you need it,” she cooed, reaching a hand out to ruffle his hair. This only made Jake groan loudly and hide his face in his hands. You didn’t know Jake very well, but this flustered, red-faced side of him was definitely one you liked seeing.

The first thing that greeted you when you reached Jake’s house was a happy welcome home bark.

“You have a dog?!” you exclaimed, unable to reel your excitement in.

“Yeah! This is Layla,” Jake said, giving energetic rubs to the Border Collie that made her whole body shake side-to-side but that she seemed to thoroughly enjoy. 

“Hi, Layla,” you cooed, crouching down to her level to let her sniff you. She decided you were a person worthy of petting her. “She’s so cute!”

“I think she likes you,” Jake said, a grin on his face, as he watched Layla presenting her belly to you and asking for scratches there. “Do you have a dog?”

“We have a Corgi at home. And a cat, too.”

“That must be fun,” Jake chuckled. “Do they get along?”

“Depends. They have a bit of a love-hate relationship.” You looked up at Jake, and it was uncharacteristically quiet as you locked eyes for a couple of seconds. You both looked away at the same time, surprised by the sudden eye contact.

You gave Layla one last rub and lifted yourself up. “Um, should we get started?” 

Jake paused for a second as if he’d forgotten what you were here for in the first place, then started nodding his head quickly. “Right, yeah. Let’s go to my room. Downstairs is just one big room and my mom will probably watch TV or make dinner or something, so it might be distracting…” he explained, lightly scratching the back of his neck. It seemed like he was embarrassed to be bringing you to his room, which you couldn’t help but find endearing.

“Okay, sounds good,” you said with a smile, hoping it’ll reassure him.

You followed him up to his room, ignoring his complaints as you lingered on the framed photos on the wall next to the stairs and giggled at his baby pictures. 

“Do not look at those,” he said with a warning tone that didn’t scare you in the slightest. When you didn’t listen, he grabbed your hand that had been pointing at a photo of baby Jake in the bathtub and forced you to keep walking.

“Why?” you asked, a slight whine to your voice.

“‘Cause it’s embarrassing! I was an ugly baby.”

“What?! You were so cute!”

“Whatever. I’d rather study English than talk about this, and that’s saying something.”

When you looked at Jake, you were surprised to find that he actually seemed upset about this. You weren’t sure what was so wrong with looking at his baby pictures, but the last thing you wanted to do was make him mad, so you stayed quiet and continued your way to his room. Once there, although you were infinitely curious about all the posters, pictures, figurines, trophies, and other small tokens of Jake’s life, you didn’t ask him about any of them, just sat next to him at his desk and opened The Picture of Dorian Grey, the book you had both been studying in Ms Park’s class.

You’d agreed on spending forty-five minutes on English, have a small break, then spend forty-five minutes on Math. It wasn’t a lot, but you both had other homework and things outside of school you needed to do, so you’d decided to start out that way and see if it worked out.

You were glad to see how seriously Jake was taking this - he listened intently to what you said and asked questions when he didn’t understand something. You quickly figured out that what he didn’t like about English Literature was that the answers weren’t as straightforward or as logical as they were in math, and even worse, that multiple answers were possible depending on the reader’s interpretation. 

“It just all feels like a guessing game,” he said, resting the side of his head on one of his palms. “How am I supposed to know what this dude meant? And if it can be analyzed in different ways, how can Ms Park tell me the way I understand it is wrong?”

“It’s all about the way you justify it,” you explained. “You can’t just say whatever. Ms Park will look out for how you use the text to support your answers.” You then went on to pick out a specific part of the book, asking Jake to analyze Dorian’s mindset in that scene. 

“He sounds like he’s going insane,” Jake said flatly when he was done reading, getting a chuckle out of you.

“Exactly. How do you know that?”

“I don’t know, just the words he uses,” Jake replies, shrugging.

“Okay, underline those words,” you instructed gently. Jake sighed, but he complied.

“There.” 

“Good. What can you say about those words?” When Jake just looked at you like a lost puppy, you reformulated your question. “What do they have in common? What type of words are they? Are they common nouns, verbs…”

Jake looked back at the words he’d underlined on the page. “They’re… adjectives?” he said, tone unsure.

“Exactly!”

Jake paused. “So?”

“So now you can say that the author uses many adjectives to convey the gradual loss of sanity of the main character.”

“Oh.”

When you looked at Jake, he wore an expression like the words on the page were finally starting to make sense to him. “That’s the content. You can also look at the structure. See how many punctuation marks there are? Commas, semi-colons, question marks… It’s like he keeps cutting himself off. His thoughts are all over the place.”

Jake nodded slowly. “So, I just need to look out for things like that?”

“Basically, yeah. And the more you practice, the more these things will stand out to you. It actually becomes somewhat repetitive sometimes.”

Jake let out a shaky breath. “That’s actually relieving to hear,” he said with a chuckle.

Thirty minutes passed by like this as you showed Jake ways to make sense of a literary text. When the timer rang, he leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms out wide with a sigh. He put his hands behind his head and let it hang back, and the way your stomach flipped at the sight of his exposed neck and Adam’s apple made you look away immediately. You could barely meet his eyes as he turned his head to look at you, still in that same position, and, with a smirk, asked if you were ready for some snacks. 

You gulped, trying to look as normal as possible. “Uh, yeah, sure!”

Downstairs, Jake presented you with all sorts of snacks - there were so many, you felt like you were in a convenience store. This was worlds away from your ingredient-only household. You opted for some biscuits and a banana while Jake made himself a bowl of cereal. A very distracting ten-minute long argument then ensued about the order of milk and cereal - horrifyingly, Jake poured his milk before his cereal. You thought it was a myth that some people actually did it that way, but Jake very proudly defended his choice. 

“I bet you eat pizza with pineapple on it, too,” you said half-jokingly, only for your joke to punch you right back in the face.

“Duh,” Jake answered.

You could only shake your head in defeat. “Let’s just get back to studying before I murder you.”

“Damn, Y/N,” Jake said, laughing. “That’s harsh.”

“And you’re a freak,” you retorted, a grin blooming on your lips.

“You know, you remind me of my friend Jay,” Jake mused as you walked back up the stairs. “He has so many of these small battles that he just won’t let go of. He got super worked up over an argument about mint chocolate chip ice cream once.”

“Let me guess, you like that ice cream?”

Jake shrugged. “It’s not my favorite, but I’ll have it once in a while.”

“God, Sim, you just get worse and worse.”

You sat back down at his desk and started eating. “I bet you think I’m weird for liking math too, right?”

“That’s the worst offense of them all.” 

Jake’s sudden quietness caught you off guard. When you turned your head to look at him, he was already gazing at you with a smile and a sort of thoughtful glint to his eyes, resting his chin on his palm. It sounded like he was thinking out loud when he spoke next. “Guess we’re perfect opposites of each other. Like two peas in a pod!”

The realization of what he’d said dawned upon him as soon as the words left his mouth. He slowly lifted his head as his eyes widened. “I don’t mean- just, you know, since you’re good at English and I’m good at math, and- you know… I didn’t mean it in a weird way, or anything…”

His eyes kept glancing back and forth between you and his bowl of cereal, as if he was scared of looking directly at you but wanted to check your reaction. 

As a smile grew on your face, you kept your eyes trained on your biscuits so he wouldn’t see your flustered expression. But when you looked at him again, he held your gaze, mouth slightly agape. You didn’t have it in you that he had gotten the idiom completely wrong. “I know, don’t worry.” You chuckled. “We are opposites of each other. You just better be as good at teaching math as I am at teaching English,” you teased.

You watched as a smirk tugged one corner of Jake’s lips up and he raised an eyebrow. “Who said you were good at teaching English?”

You gasped. “You said you understood better now!”

Jake’s smile softened as he giggled. “I’m just teasing. You are a good teacher.”

You sat up straighter at the compliment, a proud smile on your face. “Your turn, Mr Sim. I’m all ears.”

“Right,” he said, mirroring your posture. “Shall we start by going over Mr Choi’s test from last week?” 

Your smile dropped instantly at this. Reluctantly, you fished your graded paper out of your bag. You already knew Mr Choi was a psychopath, but you still didn’t understand where he found the will to grade thirty papers over the weekend. You avoided Jake’s gaze as you handed him your test with a big, red, circled D- at the top.

You cringed as Jake sighed. “At least it’s not an F, right?” he said in what you could tell was an attempt at reassurance but somehow only made you feel worse. He looked over your answers quickly, trying to find what in particular you struggled with. “All right. Let’s start from the beginning, yeah?”

For the next forty-five minutes, Jake went over each test question with you, breaking them down and explaining how to solve them in a way you understood. The words he used were so much clearer than the half-assed explanations you were used to from Mr Choi, and for once, math actually made some sort of sense. Your brain still felt broken after almost an hour of numbers and greek letters, but at least, you felt smarter rather than dumber at the end of it. You had never been more grateful for the sound of a phone alarm than the one signaling tutoring was over. 

“That wasn’t half-bad, right?” Jake asked with a wide grin.

You felt so tired, you could probably pass out right then and there, but Jake looked so proud of himself after you had been able to complete an exercise correctly on your own that you didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth. “Right,” you replied, mirroring his grin. “You’re an okay teacher, I guess.”

He jokingly glared and tutted at you, but you both laughed right after. “I need to walk Layla, so I can walk you home, if you want?” he offered as you started packing your things. His words had an uncertain tone to them, as if he wasn’t sure you’d still want to spend time with him after this - but it only took you a second of thinking to realize you’d rather continue hanging out with him than going home on your own.

“Sure! I need to walk Kiwi too, actually.”

“Your dog’s name is Kiwi?!”

“Yes,” you said, chuckling at his fascinated tone.

“That’s an adorable name.”

“Thanks, I chose it.”

“Oh, then I take it back. Worst name I’ve ever heard for a dog.”

“Hey!” you exclaimed, lightly hitting him on the head with your math notebook, making him raise a hand in self-defense as he laughed.

“Sorry, sorry. Does your cat also have a fruit name?” 

A pause. “Mango,” you mumbled, and he immediately burst into laughter again. You side-eyed him as you zipped up your bag.

“Wow, you have amazing taste in pet names, Y/N.”

“Shut up,” you said, laughing along. Then you realized something, and you suddenly stopped laughing, looking up at Jake with wide eyes that made him slightly start to panic. “Oh my God, Jake, are our dogs going to meet?”

“Our dogs are going to meet,” he echoed in a sort of fascinated whisper. You both understood the other - dogs becoming friends was the cutest thing ever.

“Let’s go,” you whispered back excitedly.

When you reached the living room downstairs, you bid Mrs Sim goodbye, then went to the entrance to put your shoes back on. “You two sure get along well,” you heard her say to her son with a suggestive tone. Even though she had dropped the volume of her voice, the door was wide open and there were only a few meters between you, so you’d heard her loud and clear. 

“Geez, Mom,” Jake groaned, seemingly irked by his mom’s insinuation.

“It’s just you’ve never brought a girl home, Jakey-”

“Okay, we’re leaving now! Layla, come!”

You hadn’t even realized how wide you were grinning until Jake saw you tying your shoelaces and grumbled “What are you smiling so hard for.”

“Nothing,” you giggled, and your smile grew as you watched a grin break through his pretend-upset expression.

You sighed contentedly as you stepped outside, letting the crisp early April air hit your face. You tightened your scarf around your neck and buried your hands in your pocket and you and Jake started walking side by side, Layla happily leading the way. The streets were fairly quiet at this time of day, save for the yells of children still playing in their backyards before dinner and a few cars of people coming home late from work.

Only the first five seconds of the walk were silent, until you couldn’t contain yourself anymore. “So, never brought a girl home, huh?” you asked with a teasing smirk.

Jake let out an offended scoff and looked up to the sky as if God could help him out of this one. Sadly, He didn’t, so Jake had to find an answer himself. “I’m not talking about this with you.”

“Why not?”

Pouting, Jake spared you a sideway glance. “Because you’re a girl,” he replied, voice lowered to a mumble.

You chuckled at this. “Very astute observation, Jake.”

“No, I- Ugh,” he groaned before laughing along with you. “I don’t need a girl to know how bad I am with- well, with girls.”

“I can help with that,” you said before you really thought about it. “I mean, I’m not a love expert by any means, but I can maybe give, I don’t know, pointers or something if there’s someone you like-”

“There’s no one I like,” Jake quickly cut in. “Um, not right now, at least.”

“O-okay,” you replied, nodding. “That’s fine.” 

“What about you? Do you like anyone?”

As Jake asked the question, he realized he already knew the answer - you liked Sunghoon. How could he forget?! Half of his plan had been to make you get closer to his friend, but he hadn’t even started thinking about that yet. In his defense, he’d come up with that plan three days ago.

Your answer surprised him. “Um, no, me neither. Not right now, at least,” you said, repeating his words with a smile on your face. You locked eyes for a second before looking away at the same time, chuckling.

“Right,” he said. He knew what he had read in your diary, so maybe you were just too shy to admit you had a crush on his friend of all people.

An unexpected awkwardness settled between the two of you, and you more than anything wanted it to go away. Even though it’d only been a few days since you and Jake had started getting to know each other, you already felt comfortable enough to be yourself around him, and it usually took you weeks before reaching that level with anyone. This hadn’t happened since you met Yena and Hyewon at the beginning of high school - they had been friends since middle school, and so had you and Chaewon, and when the four of you met, you had instant chemistry. But maybe it was slightly too early to start talking about crushes with Jake.

For once, you were the one to break the silence - you asked him whether he knew what he wanted to do after school. Basic question, but you were genuinely curious. 

Looking a little bashful, he confessed his dream had always been to be a math teacher and soccer coach at a middle or high school. You told him he already had the talent for it, and when he blushed at your words, you made sure to tease him for it.  

“I’m not sure yet,” you said when he returned the question. “I know I wanna go to college and continue doing English Lit and theater there, but that’s about it.”

“That’s already good enough,” Jake said with a smile. “Still got time to figure out what comes after, right?”

You naturally mirrored his smile - there was something contagious about Jake’s puppyish grin that made it hard not to smile yourself. “Right.”

The three of you reached your house quickly after that. Your mom still hadn’t come home from work, so Kiwi was even more excited than usual for your arrival home. You and Jake watched fondly as your dogs sniffed each other for a few seconds before starting to run around together. The fact that they got along made you really happy, perhaps unreasonably so, and you started bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet as you watched them play. “Our dogs are friends!” you exclaimed excitedly. 

When you turned to look at Jake, he wasn’t watching the dogs like you had been - he was gazing straight at you, eyes soft with something that made your heart skip a beat. You couldn’t look away, and it was only after a few seconds that he seemed to snap out of the sort of daze he was in. He cleared his throat and you finally tore your eyes away from him.

“Let me just- Kiwi! I need to put his leash around him,” you said, speaking quickly to dissipate the weird atmosphere as best as you could. You led Jake down the path you usually took with Kiwi that led to a park in your neighborhood, and you were relieved when normal conversation started again.

Jake insisted on walking you back to your house even though he had left his earlier. He made a whole show of not going until you’d walked inside and closed the door, so you’d rushed to your window to shout his name and wave goodbye at him, which made him laugh.

You turned back to Kiwi when Jake and Layla had turned a corner and you couldn’t watch them anymore. “Are you happy you made a new friend, Kiwi?”

The Corgi barked happily at you in response - probably more at hearing his name than because he understood your question, but still, you liked to think you could communicate with your dog on such a level. You chuckled and took him in your arms. “Me too.”

—

Apparently, you couldn’t even wave to someone in the hallway without being interrogated about it anymore.

“Y/N, did you just say hi to Jake Sim?” Chaewon asked like you’d just insulted her whole family.

It was 10 a.m. on a simple Tuesday morning, the day after Jake and you had studied together for the first time, and you’d just walked past the boy - so of course, you said hi to him. Maybe, your heart started beating slightly faster when you’d noticed him approaching. Maybe, it was nice to be on the receiving end of his friendly grin.

“Yes?” you replied, sentence coming out more like a question.

“Since when do you say hi to Jake Sim?!” 

“Since today, I guess.”

“But why?!” She’d raised her voice so much, you’d gotten strange looks from other students in the hallway. 

“I told you!”

She shook her head slowly at you as if to say, No you didn’t!

You rolled your eyes and sighed. Chaewon and her early onset short-term memory loss. “The backpack thing? And agreeing to tutoring each other? I wrote to the group chat about this!”

“Oh, that! Of course I remember that,” she said, even though you knew she had forgotten about it and remembered it just now. “So, has that started already?”

You reached the classroom for your next class and sat down in your usual seats next to each other, waiting for the teacher to arrive. Busy hallways like these were the perfect place for gossip, because they were loud and nobody paid attention to others’ conversations. “Yeah, yesterday afternoon.”

Chaewon gasped. “And you didn’t tell us?!”

“Will you quiet down? I was going to see and tell you guys today anyway.”

“Okay, so, tell me about it.”

“But-”

“Tell. Me.”

You wouldn’t see Yena and Hyewon until lunch in two hours, and you knew Chaewon didn’t have the patience to wait until then. So you sighed again and obliged, telling her about your afternoon with Jake in every detail you could remember, because she would ask about insignificant things anyway. 

To your surprise, the first thing she said when you were done talking was this: “Y/N, do you like Jake?”

Your mouth opened slightly in shock at the question, but before you could even retort, you started giggling. “No, I don’t,” you said in a way that sounded like you very much did.

“Oh my God! You so do!” Chaewon said, giggling along with you. “You whore, you’ve only talked to him, like, twice,” she joked.

You gasped fake-dramatically and slapped her arm. “Oh please, look at Hyewon and Jaemin, they started dating after a week of talking.”

“Yes, and they’ve been going one year strong, so clearly, you need to ask Jake out and get this over with. You’ll get a boyfriend and a math tutor all-in-one, it’s a perfect deal!”

“Don’t get too carried away, okay? Jake and I are friends. Like you said, we barely know each other right now.”

You meant this - sure, you had had a really good time with Jake both times you saw him, and you were looking forward to your next tutoring session, but you chalked it up to the excitement of making a new friend. Plus, barely last week you felt some sort of way towards his best friend - wouldn’t it be weird to practically transfer your feelings from Sunghoon to Jake?

“Whatever. Yena and Hyewon are gonna freak when I tell them,” Chaewon said excitedly.

You shook your head at your friend but couldn’t keep down the amused grin on your face. “You guys are insane.”

“Oh please, like you’re not the president of our Park Sunghoon fanclub. I can’t believe you’re leaving us for his best friend!”

“Hey, if anything, less competition for you, right?”

Chaewon opened her mouth to say something, but the teacher arrived, starting the lesson before having even put her bag down - Mrs Lee always arrived late but never wasted a second of class when she was in the room. Your friend resorted to sticking her tongue out at you instead, and you chuckled at her childishness as you opened your History notebook. 

—

Jake was a complete, total, utter idiot. His plan had consisted of two things only, and he’d somehow managed to forget one of them, even after talking about it with you, albeit vaguely. It had taken him two weeks and one Park Sunghoon to even remember it.

Between Jake’s soccer practice, Sunghoon’s ice skating practice and Jay’s being away at boarding school, the three friends only had one night every week on which they were all free - Friday night. So, every Friday, they planned some sort of hang out at one of their houses and gamed or watched movies all night.

Kinda like date night, but for bros.

This was one of those bro nights; namely, the one in the second week of you and Jake tutoring each other. The boys had decided to go to the burger joint they like that night and were in the middle of a french fry fight when Sunghoon mentioned your and Jake’s new friendship.

“So, Jake… what’s up with you and Y/N?”

Jake halted in his motions, redirecting to his mouth the fry he was about to throw at Jay. “Nothing’s up with me and Y/N. What makes you say that?”

“Just, you know, you seem like you’ve become actual friends. Talking in the hallways and walking your dogs together and whatnot.”

“Y/N as in Y/N? Sunghoon’s Y/N?” Jay said, halfway through a bite of his cheeseburger.

“She’s not my Y/N-”

“Yes, Y/N as in Y/N, you idiot,” Jake cut in. “And like you said, we’re friends.”

“Is she the girl you posted some BeReals with?” Jay asked, and Jake nodded. “She’s pretty! No wonder Sunghoon likes her so much.”

Sunghoon sighed as he let his head hang low. “God forbid I find a girl cute, because I’ll mention it once, two years ago and you guys make me out to be in love with her.”

“Sunghoon, you act like girls don’t exist, so of course when you not only mention a girl, but describe her as cute, that means you’re in love with her!”

“But I’m not! We were literally having a whole conversation about girls, I happened to see Y/N and her friends from far away, I said she was cute, and now you guys won’t let me live it down. Jay, you weren’t even there!”

“Yeah, but the way Jake told me about the whole thing, it really sounded like you liked her.”

“Why would you trust Jake to relay something like this correctly?!”

Jay paused and tilted his head. “You have a point there.”

“Hey!”

“So you don’t, like… like her, or something?” Sunghoon asked, looking at his friend as he sipped on his Pepsi.

This made Jake stop. Did he like you? Wasn’t the fact that he was considering it sign enough? Surely, if there was nothing there, he would have answered no right away.

But there was no use thinking about it. You liked Sunghoon. And as much as he liked to deny it, Jake knew Sunghoon liked you, too. After two years, there was finally an opportunity for the two of you to get closer - Jake wasn’t about to get in the middle of that. If anything, he should help his friends out. Then, when you and Sunghoon eventually got married, Jake would have the honor of saying it was all thanks to him in his best man’s speech. 

“No, I don’t. Don’t worry, Hoon, I’m not gonna steal your girl away from you.”

“Again, she’s not my girl-”

“Whatever you say. I’ll introduce you guys.”

Even if Sunghoon didn’t think he liked you yet, Jake knew it was just a matter of time - his friend just needed to spend a few hours with you to realize he did. You were pretty, smart, funny, nice, had the sweetest laugh he’d ever heard, got along with dogs, and even though you sometimes had weird opinions, it was always fun, talking to you. It was easy and comfortable. Anyone with taste would fall for you.

Anyone, except for Jake, of course.

—

For the past three weeks, you and Jake had gotten along perfectly, but today, on this bright Tuesday afternoon, you really wanted to strangle him. 

When he’d invited you to come and watch him at soccer practice, you’d been surprised, but happy - usually, you invited people to watch an actual game, not just practice. But you were just glad for the opportunity to spend more time with him. 

Without realizing it, you were giddy with excitement the whole day, counting down the minutes until classes were over and Jake’s practice started. Jake had told you to just head to the bleachers while the players got ready in the locker room, but when you reached said bleachers, someone was already sitting there, looking at something on their phone. You recognized him immediately as Sunghoon. He didn’t notice you right away, so you had time to wipe the surprise off of your face - you hadn’t thought anyone came to watch practice, but Sunghoon was probably here for Jake, just like you. 

“Hey,” you said quietly as you sat down next to him. Even though you were technically still on school property, this was the first time you saw Sunghoon outside of somewhere like a classroom, a hallway or the cafeteria. You weren’t as nervous as you thought you’d be, seeing him unexpectedly like this. 

You chuckled when Sunghoon started at your sudden arrival. “Oh, hey, Y/N,” he said, chuckling too, albeit somewhat awkwardly. “Sorry, didn’t hear you coming.”

“It’s fine,” you said with a smile as you sat down next to him on the bleachers. You didn’t know what sort of distance was appropriate between you two, if you should sit close or far, but you stopped yourself before you could overthink something as trivial as that. Neither of you said anything for a few seconds and you wished practice had started before you got here, so that you’d have something to look at other than an empty field.

You broke the silence before it became too uncomfortable. “So, do you come watch Jake often?”

You’d been fiddling with your hands as you spoke, only turning your head to look at Sunghoon as you awaited his answer. Your eyes didn’t even meet for a fraction of a second before he whipped his head to look at the field, as if unable to look at you and talk at the same time. At least he had a nice side profile for you to look at.

“Um, just on Tuesdays. I have ice skating practice after this, so I come here first, then he comes with me to the rink,” he replied. He glanced at you, lips pressed into a thin line that somewhat resembled a smile and that pushed dimples into his cheeks. You simply hummed in response. 

“What about you, how come you’re here?”

“Jake asked me,” you replied. Sunghoon let out a long “oh” as he nodded, turning his head back towards the field again. You didn’t think you’d ever had such a slow conversation. It was like you and Sunghoon both repeated your words ten times over in your heads before saying them out loud.

“Are you coming to my practice, too?” he asked after another pause.

The question took you aback slightly as you hadn’t even considered it, but it could be fun, seeing Sunghoon practice ice skating. It’d also be fun to hang out with Jake. “If it’s fine with you, then yeah, why not,” you replied, smiling at Sunghoon. He glanced at you again before looking away with a smile, an actual one this time that showed his teeth and made his eyes crinkle.

“Yeah, sure. People usually only come to actual shows, so I like it when someone’s there to watch practice.” Before you could find something to say, the players arrived jogging onto the field, immediately starting their warm-up laps. Some were serious about it and stayed focused as they ran, while others goofed around, running backwards and slapping other players on their butts before sprinting away. Jake, of course, was part of the latter group.

Now that something was actually happening on the field, you and Sunghoon had an excuse not to make conversation anymore. You tried to ignore it, but it was so awkward you wanted to die. You realized now why you were so attracted to people like Jake and Chaewon - without even being aware of it, they brought you out of your shell and made you feel at ease. You wished you could do that on your own, but you were always too scared, so you needed that person who was confident enough showing themselves to you first to make you feel comfortable doing the same. You and Sunghoon, unfortunately, were too similar in that sense to do that for each other. So you just sat there in silence, observing Jake and waving back at him when he caught your gazes.

The ninety minutes of practice didn’t go by in total silence - you asked Sunghoon about some soccer rules you didn’t get, and he shared some anecdotes from his and Jake’s earlier teenage years, including a very entertaining story about a tantrum 9-year-old Jake had thrown when he hadn’t agreed with the red card the referee had given him. You weren’t sure how the topic came up, but at some point, you even shared pictures of your pets. Sunghoon had one of those small crusty white dogs, but you kept your laughter in and cooed over how cute she was. 

But still, most of the time, you were watching Jake. You had never been interested in soccer or any sort of sport that involved balls until now. Somehow, he managed to make flushed cheeks, a heaving chest and hairline beaded with sweat look glorious. In total honesty, you were paying more attention to the player himself than to the sport, to the point that you barely noticed when he scored a goal during their practice match. It was only when Jake started cheering and high-fiving his teammates that you realized what had happened, and you gave him two thumbs up and a wide grin when he looked your and Sunghoon’s way, proudly shouting “Did you see that?!”

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks right there and then. The way your heart swelled as you watched his excited, puppyish grin take over his features was undeniable - you liked Jake. You like liked him. Your gaze continued to follow him as he finished his celebratory lap. If you could’ve seen yourself right then, you’d probably have been embarrassed by your awestruck expression and slightly agape mouth, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Much to your dismay, you realized that Chaewon had seen right through you. You hadn’t wanted to read too much into your feelings, but they had become too obvious to ignore. You hadn’t experienced them yourself since middle school (Choi Soobin had really been a heartbreaker back then), but you’d heard about the telltale signs of a crush too many times not to know about them. It was now clear that the way you felt about Jake and the way you had felt about Sunghoon were worlds apart. Feeling nervous around him and your heart skipping a beat when you made eye contact; wanting to see him smile; laughing at all his jokes, even the bad ones; missing him even though it’d been seconds since you said goodbye, and counting down the days until you saw him again. And, yes, looking at his pictures on social media over and over again. You did all those things, so you knew there was no point in lying to yourself anymore - you liked Jake Sim. 

It didn’t help that he was always kind to you, never making you feel stupid for not understanding something in your tutoring sessions and being patient enough to explain the same thing over and over again. He always paid attention to small things, which never failed to make your heart race, like asking after your aging cat’s condition after you’d told him he had a health check-up over the weekend or stocking up on your favorite snack the week after you’d told him about it. He’d also immediately picked up on your habit of teasing the people you felt comfortable with and you loved how he returned it tenfold. It was as much fun debating with him over nothing and making him shut up with your senseless arguments as it was being rendered speechless when he came up with the perfect retort. 

And of course, there was no denying that Jake was ridiculously attractive. There were times you got so caught up in the way his lips moved as he spoke or the way his fingers looked as he pointed at numbers on the page that your mind completely blanked out and you stopped listening to his words for a few seconds. You didn’t know what to make of his small chuckle and smirk when he noticed your gaze fixated on him, but you knew it wasn’t good for your heart. And let’s not even get started on the fact that sitting so close to him meant you could smell the lingering scent of his cologne every single time.

Even now, with flushed cheeks and hair slicked back with sweat, you want to run onto the field and give him a big smooch on his cheek, telling him you were proud of him for scoring that goal.

But even though you were getting closer and he had offered for you to come watch his practice, you squashed down as best as you could any hope that he might feel the same way about you. Even if he insisted he was bad with girls, Jake was popular at school, and you were sure there were many other girls who had a crush on him - so why would he like you of all people?

Sunghoon’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Every time he scores, he acts like it’s the first time he’s ever done it,” he said, chuckling and shaking his head at his friend’s over-dramatic antics. The coach was trying to get Jake to calm down so that the game could resume.

“He’s so cute,” you said, voice quiet, before you could stop yourself. But as soon as the words were out, you realized what you’d done, and your eyes doubled in size as you turned to look at Sunghoon. He had whipped his head to look at you, too, and his eyes were just as big as yours. Then, he burst into laughter, and you hoped the Earth would suddenly open beneath your feet and swallow you whole. 

When his surprise had subsided, Sunghoon turned to you again, an incredulous but amused glint in his eyes. “Did you just call Jake cute?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, slightly frowning as you avoided Sunghoon’s gaze. “I just meant, you know, it’s cute how excited he got. I didn’t say he was cute,” you mumbled, knowing you were doing a poor job of defending yourself.

“That’s exactly what you said, though. You said, and I quote, He’s so cute.” You glared at Sunghoon. Who knew he would only become talkative once it came to teasing you about Jake? 

His expression softened slightly when he realized you might actually be upset about this, and he turned his attention back towards the field, smile growing when he found his friend. “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything.”

“There’s nothing to be said anyway.”

“Oh? So you don’t mind if I tell Jake that you have the biggest, fattest crush on- hmph!”

You’d cut Sunghoon off by pressing your palm to his mouth, mustering the most menacing look you could to scare him off. “I do not,” you said firmly as you moved your hand away from him.

“Sure, you don’t,” he replied, chuckling. Clearly, your most menacing look wasn’t so menacing.

“I get why Jake’s so annoying now, it’s because he’s friends with you.”

Sunghoon raised an amused eyebrow at this. “He might be annoying, but he’s also cute, right?”

“Shut up!” you shrieked immediately, but you couldn’t stop the grin forcing its way onto your lips.

“Just saying,” Sunghoon said, and you laughed together. Maybe you should’ve been more worried about Jake’s literal best friend finding out you had a crush on him, but you somehow trusted Sunghoon not to blabber about it. Whether because he was nice or because he wanted to watch you struggle with your feelings, you weren’t sure, but at least you felt your secret was safe with him.

You looked back at the field, and just as your eyes found Jake, you saw him turn his head away. Had you seen him just seconds prior, you might have noticed the crease in his eyebrows as he watched you and Sunghoon laugh together. Sunghoon isn’t that funny, he thought, what could you be laughing so hard about?

He didn’t understand the sudden weight in his heart at the sight of you and his friend getting along so well. This was his whole plan after all - force some proximity between you and Sunghoon so that you could talk and hopefully make your feelings clear to each other after some time. Clearly, it was working. So why was it bothering him so much? 

He had to turn his attention back to the game, so he could only ruminate over it for five seconds, but for the remaining thirty minutes, he could barely focus on anything. Whenever he glanced back at you and Sunghoon, you were both looking at him and not talking to each other, and that somehow bothered him even more. 

He used his time in the lockers to get out of the weird mood he was in - whatever was going on between you and Sunghoon, he didn’t want to ruin it by being grumpy. So when he came back out and found the two of you waiting for him at the bus stop, he put on his best smile. 

Having you around made his usual Tuesday afternoon with Sunghoon more fun - after years of friendship, Sunghoon ignored most of his jokes and could tune the sound of his voice out, but you still laughed at everything he said, and his heart swelled with pride every time he made you laugh.

It was only a ten-minute bus ride from the school to the ice rink so you still had twenty minutes to spare before Sunghoon’s lesson started. As always after soccer practice, Jake was famished, so you stopped by a convenience store and got more snacks than you really needed.

You sat next to Sunghoon and across from Jake at a picnic table in front of the ice rink, watching the boy in front of you with fascination as he gorged himself on banana milk and chocolate snacks.

“God, how long has it been since you last ate?” you asked with genuine concern in your voice. Sunghoon followed your gaze towards Jake, only then noticing his friend’s feral behavior as if this was a normal occurrence for them.

“Like three hours,” Jake answered. “I’m starving. So hungry I could eat Sunghoon.”

When he looked up, you were both peering at him with furrowed eyebrows and bewildered expressions on your faces. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Do you mean that Sunghoon is a horse?” you asked.

Jake mirrored your confused expressions. “What? No, why would I say that?”

“The saying goes, so hungry I could eat a horse, dumbass,” Sunghoon chimed in.

“Why would I eat a horse?” Jake replied, shaking his head and chuckling at you and Sunghoon like you were the ones who had gotten a basic idiom wrong.

“Why would you eat me?” Sunghoon bit back, sounding almost offended.

“It’s just a saying, dude.”

Half-an-hour and two whole packets of biscuits later, you and Jake sat side-by-side on the benches, watching Sunghoon as he did his warm-ups on the ice. This was your first time seeing a professional ice skater and you were transfixed, to say the least. He was just skating across the rink and rolling his arms and neck to get the muscles moving, but it all seemed so effortless and elegant that you couldn’t help but watch with your mouth slightly open, eyes eager to keep up with Sunghoon’s figure.

You were so mesmerized that you had no idea Jake was practically burning holes into the side of your face. Eyes narrowed and nose scrunched in disgust, he couldn’t believe you were enjoying the show in front of you that much. “He’s not even doing anything special right now, you know,” he said, but it only made him realize that when Sunghoon did start doing cool stuff, you’d like it even more.

Your head barely budged in Jake’s direction as you answered him, and your eyes certainly didn’t leave Sunghoon. “Really? It already looks so cool, though.” Jake scoffed, but that still didn’t get your attention, which made him scoff again. He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned like a child whose parent wasn’t paying attention to their drawing. 

“Cooler than me?”

Finally, you look at me, Jake thought, and his frown immediately dissipated into a grin when your eyes met. But judging by the teasing way your lips curled up, he already knew he wasn’t going to like your answer.

“Cooler than you,” you replied before turning your attention back to the rink.

Jake leans back with a pout, opting to glare at his friend instead of you. He tried to put himself in your shoes and figure out what it was about Sunghoon you liked so much that Jake didn’t also have. Devastatingly good looks? Check. Charming smile? Check. Cute dog? Check - Jake more so than Sunghoon. Brains? Okay, both of them lacked this. Good personality? Check - however, you needed months before Sunghoon revealed himself to you, whereas Jake was outgoing and was comfortable even with people he’d just met. 

So why was the bearer of your affection Sunghoon and not Jake?

And why did Jake even care that you liked his friend over him in the first place?

It wasn’t like Jake liked you - he couldn’t like a girl that his best friend liked - so why did this at all matter to him? If anything, the fact that you liked Sunghoon back should’ve been something to rejoice over. It had been, up until now, and Jake couldn’t figure out why. He couldn’t figure out this weird sensation that had plagued him in the soccer field and followed him to the ice rink as he watched you watch Sunghoon with amazement.

Jake was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even notice when you detached your eyes from Sunghoon, who was talking to his coach, and tilted your head at him. “Jake?” 

The boy only let out a low hum, still too upset to look at you.

An amused grin made your lips quirk up. “Are you pouting because I said Sunghoon was cooler than you?”

Jake scoffed, turning his head away from you. “No.”

A pause. “So you don’t mind if I go on and on about how elegant and beautiful ice skating is, while running after a ball and kicking it is the basis of the stupidest sport in the world?”

Jake glared at you, but it only made you smile more. “It’s not stupid.”

Despite himself, his pretend angry facade broke apart at the sound of your airy giggles. Jake didn’t think his ears had ever been graced with such a pretty sound before - he slapped himself mentally as soon as that thought crossed his mind. 

His heart did jumps and spins more impressive than Sunghoon’s when you reached a hand out to ruffle his hair, shaking your head at his behavior. For once, he was glad that you turned back to Sunghoon so that you wouldn’t see the bright blush spreading all over his face.

For the next hour, Jake put his weird feelings to the side and watched his friend practice his routine for his upcoming competition. Even he had to admit that Sunghoon looked pretty cool doing what he loved.

You told him you found it all the more impressive because you’d never skated before, so it looked unachievable to you, and an idea immediately formed in Jake’s mind. As soon as Sunghoon’s practice was over, he rushed over to his friend and asked if the two of you could join him on the ice. Sunghoon turned to his coach, who simply shrugged.

“I trust you to look after them,” she said. “Just make sure to be out when the hockey team gets here.”

Before you knew it, Jake was helping you tie up your ice skates (the sight of which made you faint-hearted) and both boys helped you onto the ice rink, each holding onto one of your hands as you tried not to freak out at the feeling of your knees being so wobbly. Sunghoon demonstrated how to move around the ice, and soon enough, you’d gotten the hang of it - but you still made sure to keep Jake at an arm’s length so you could grab onto him every time you lost your balance. Jake stayed by your side, smiling fondly at how excited you looked and cheering you on every time you took a step of your own. Sunghoon, on the other hand, seemed to find it funny to watch from afar and point and laugh every time you stumbled.

After some time, Sunghoon announced he was feeling hungry and decided to go eat some snacks, leaving you and Jake alone in the rink. The wink Sunghoon threw your way when Jake wasn’t looking let you know what his true intentions were, and you couldn’t believe Jake’s best friend had just become your wingman.

“Feeling ready to skate around the rink?” Jake asked. His boyish grin was contagious, and you found yourself matching it even though you were still nervous about moving around too much.

“If you help me,” you answered tentatively, looking at him worriedly as you held out your hand for him to take. The softness of his gaze as he smiled down at you made you want to melt into a puddle on the floor.

“Of course,” he said, taking your hand in his warm one. Your fingers intertwined as if out of second nature and you thought you finally understood why people said their hands were meant to hold someone else’s.

Being friends with an ice skater for such a long time meant Jake had acquired some skill, too, which is why he could so easily show you how to turn or pick up speed. Whenever you lost your balance, he was always quick enough to make sure you didn’t actually fall, picking you up before your backside could touch the ice. He found your frightened expression every time you thought you would fall absolutely adorable, but your pout and slight frown whenever he teased you were somehow even cuter.

He only let go of your hand after some ten minutes (neither of you had even begun to question Sunghoon’s whereabouts by then) when he came to stand in front of you, a serious expression on his face.

“I think you’re ready, Y/N,” he declared solemnly.

“Ready for…?” you asked, scared of whatever he had in mind.

He leaned in slightly and the sudden proximity took you aback, but he didn’t seem to realize. A mischievous smirk broke through his handsome features. “A race,” he whispered, then skated to one edge of the rink and motioned for you to follow him. Reluctantly, you did.

“First to the other edge has to…” he thought for a second, gazing at the ceiling. You wanted to be mad at him for proposing a race when you’d literally just learned how to skate, but how could you when he looked so cute and giddy, searching for the loser’s penalty? “Buy the other ice cream!”

Your eyes were probably the image of tenderness as you looked at him. “Deal,” you said, wanting to sound as playful as him but voice coming out soft. Since when had you fallen so hard for him?

You held each other’s gazes for a couple more seconds before both turning in front of you, getting ready for your race. Jake counted down from three, and your skating wasn’t so bad at first - until you got too cocky for your own good, trying to go at a pace you clearly couldn’t handle. Before you knew it, your knees betrayed you and you found yourself tripping over, your butt making a loud thump sound as it came into contact with the ice.

On your way down, you’d shrieked Jake’s name, and he was at your side in the blink of an eye, holding your shoulder and looking at you worriedly. The pain was immediate, and for a few seconds, you couldn’t answer him and reassure him that you were fine.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked to race, God Y/N I’m so stupid I’m so sorry are you okay I didn’t want you to get hurt-”

“Jake,” you squeaked.

“Yeah?”

“I’m okay, calm down,” you said when the pain subsided, managing a smile. “I’ll just have a sore butt tomorrow.” He chuckled at the word ‘butt,’ but you didn’t have it in you to roll his eyes at his childishness.

“Are you sure you’re okay? There’s an infirmary here-”

“I’m sure, Jakey-poo,” you teased, making him lose the concerned expression as he bore an unimpressed one instead.

“I guess you are fine if you can think to call me that. Come on, up!” he said as he stood up, reaching his hands out for you to take. Just as he helped you up, Sunghoon came sprinting and stood at the entrance to the rink.

“Is everything okay? I heard a yell,” he said, slightly out-of-breath with half a biscuit in his mouth. Guess he really was eating this whole time.

You and Jake laughed and shook your head at him, and you reassured him that everything was fine. 

“Good, ‘cause the hockey team’s here and we have to go anyway.”

There was a bus that took Sunghoon directly from the ice rink to his house, but you and Jake had to go back to the school to catch the one you usually took, which meant you had a forty-minute journey in front of you. And yet, Jake’s company made those forty minutes feel like five, and you found yourself disappointed when the bus neared your stop.

“If you want, we can still go walk Kiwi and Layla,” he offered shyly a few minutes before your stop, as if he’d read your mind. 

“I’d love to.” You watched as his small smile bloomed into a wider one.

“I’m glad,” he chuckled, relieved. “I was scared you’d be tired of me after spending the whole afternoon together,” he admitted, looking down at his lap with a bashful expression on his face. It wasn’t often that Jake looked timid like this, but whenever he did, your heart tripled in size.

“I don’t think I could get tired of you.” You were too shy to look him in the eye while you said this, but in your peripheral, you saw his grin get impossibly wider and his eyebrows raise. He bumped your shoulder with his, making the both of you burst into giggles.

You were still smiling long after you’d come home from your walk.

—

Unfortunately for Jake, forcing you and Sunghoon to sit together for ninety minutes hadn’t resulted in the two of you confessing your undying love for the other and getting together - clearly, his plan hadn’t worked very well. But Jake, instead of coming up with another strategy, decided he should just basically do the same thing again and hope it went better this time. 

Bro night had been a tradition for the past three years that the boys only very rarely broke, in cases of illness, filial obligations or important competitions the following day. This wasn’t any one of those cases, but Jake decided bro night must be slightly sacrificed that night - for your and Sunghoon’s sake. Years down the line, he knew you’d thank him.

This was why he tricked you into thinking you had been invited to bro night (you’d heard a lot about it and considered it an honor to be included) when really, he made Jay promise not to show at the cinema so that you and Sunghoon could be alone. The two of them would make up an excuse about not being able to make it on time and show up later at the diner (“If you want to set them up, shouldn’t we also leave them alone after the movie?” Jay had asked Jake over the phone, and Jake had been unable to explain why he didn’t want you to spend the whole night alone with Sunghoon).

“They ditched us,” Sunghoon had said in lieu of a greeting when you found him at the entrance of the cinema. He turned his phone screen towards you, showing you their group chat - Jay had had some sort of meeting at his school that had run late and Jake had to go to the vet suddenly because Layla kept making weird noises.

“Oh no, I hope she’ll be okay,” you said, voice laced with genuine worry.

Sunghoon just sighed. “I’m sure she will.” He knew what his friends were up to - it almost never happened that one of them was unable to make it to bro night, so two at once? They were clearly lying. He would make sure to tell Jake how worried sick you were about his dog’s fake illness later on just so his friend would feel extra guilty.

You had been looking forward to hanging out with Jake and his friends all day, so you were disappointed to know he wouldn’t make it until later. It wasn’t much comfort that the movie they had picked, some recent Marvel release, was one you were not at all interested in, and you couldn’t even obsess over Jake’s presence next to you instead of the movie because he wasn’t there. You’d have to sit with awkward, quiet Sunghoon for God knows how long - at least the cinema wasn’t much of a talking place. 

You declined his kind offer of sharing a big popcorn tub - you didn’t want to risk a cliché reaching-for-popcorn-at-the-same-time moment with Sunghoon, although you’d daydreamed and giggled about it happening with Jake earlier that day. Instead, you sipped grumpily on your Cherry Coke, watching the trailers for upcoming movies and discussing them with Sunghoon. (“I’m so excited for the Barbie movie,” he’d surprised you by saying. Maybe he wasn’t so bad.)

As the lights dimmed, announcing the imminent start of the movie, Sunghoon whispered something that completely changed your mind about Marvel. “It’s so stupid that Jake isn’t here, seriously. He’s been going on and on about going to see this movie since the trailer came out.” Suddenly, you’d never felt the need to pay attention to something more than this. 

Well, in your humble opinion, the film wasn’t anything to write home about. It was a lot of loud action scenes with some funny one-liners that, okay, you chuckled at. And the actors were hot. You could sort of see why Jake would enjoy Marvel movies, although you yourself liked films with more social commentary, such as Mean Girls or Bee Movie. You’d need to make Jake watch Twilight one of these days - you were sure he’d like the soundtrack, if nothing else.

At least, you and Sunghoon have something to talk about during your short walk to the diner. As you enter the restaurant, a familiar voice calling out your name catches you off-guard.

“Chaewon? I thought you didn’t work on Friday nights!” you exclaimed, letting your friend bring you into a hug. You gave her a once-over - she always looked so pretty in her work uniform, white t-shirt dress draping her body perfectly, apron cinching at her waist, and short pigtails under her 50’s style diner hat. If the blush spreading on Sunghoon’s cheeks at her sudden appearance was anything to go by, his thoughts might not have been too far from yours.

She pouted, taking your hands in hers and swaying them between the two of you. “I usually don’t, but Yunjin asked me to trade shifts and she always says yes when I ask her, so I felt bad saying no.” You nodded and she turned to Sunghoon.

“Hi, Sunghoon!”

“H-hi, Chaewon.”

“Where’s Jay and Jake?” she asked, looking behind the two of you. You’d told the group chat about your evening plans and a lot of freaking out had taken place. 

“Should be here any minute,” you sighed, and when she looked at you questioningly, you told her you’d explain later.

She sat you at a four-person booth by the window and brought you drinks (“On the house,” she’d said with a wink, but you weren’t sure this had been allowed by any of her superiors) for you to sip on while you waited for the others. Every time she was free, she came over to your table and gossiped about the customers. You did not miss the way Sunghoon’s face lit up whenever she approached you.

Jake and Jay see you before you see them. Jay, the only one with a driver’s license out of the three, had picked Jake up, and he was parking his car when Jake gasped loudly, making Jay jump. “I’m trying to park, man, can you be calm?”

“What’s she doing here?” Jake exclaimed, completely ignoring his friend.

Jay followed Jake’s gaze, but he wasn’t sure what his friend was going on about. All he saw was you, whom he recognized from pictures only, Sunghoon, and a waitress that seemed overly-friendly. “Who?” he asked.

“Chaewon,” Jake hissed, like her name was a curse. “She’s ruining our plan!”

Jay sighed. “First of all, this is your plan. Second of all, it was ruined from the beginning. And by that, I mean that your plan sucks, Jake.”

Jake clicked his teeth. “Whatever. Let’s just go,” he said, getting out of the car and heading straight for you. He made sure to give Chaewon a pointed look as he sat next to you in the booth, but she just seemed happy that more people had arrived. 

You bumped your knee into his to get his attention. “Hi,” you said with a smile.

He looked at you dumbly for a few seconds before Jay cleared his throat awkwardly. “Hi. This is Jay,” he said, tilting his head towards the boy but not taking his eyes off of you. You and Jay exchanged hey’s before Chaewon took your order, quickly giving it to the kitchen and scanning the room to make sure every table had what they needed, then headed back to your table. 

“Is Layla okay?” you asked Jake, worry making your brows furrow.

“Huh?” The sudden mention of his dog took him aback. Why wouldn’t she be okay?

“Layla?” you repeated, tilting your head. “Is she okay? You said you had to go to the vet.”

His eyes widened as he remembered his lie from earlier, and he started nodding frantically. “Oh yeah, yeah, she’s fine, we panicked over nothing,” he said with a nervous giggle. Jake was the worst liar Jay and Sunghoon had ever seen, but you were none the wiser.

“What about you, Jay? How was your school thing?” Sunghoon asked, turning to his friend with a glare and making him choke on his Coke.

“Oh, that was fine too, I guess,” Jay mumbled.

As expected, Jake and Chaewon were experts at leading the conversation, and Jay himself was pretty talkative. They all bounced off of each other naturally, and even Sunghoon knew how to throw in witty remarks now and there. You also participated, but you were more than happy just listening to them and laughing along. You tried not to think too much about how your knee would bump into Jake’s once in a while, or how he seemed to look at you every time he made a joke.

At some point, Chaewon had rushed over to your table, looking right at you with wide eyes and beaming. “Oh my God Oh my God Oh my God, Y/N, hat guy is here!” 

You instantly mirrored her expression. “Where where where?” you asked, lifting your body up to scan around the restaurant.

“Over there in the corner, but be discreet!”

You were not at all discreet as your eyes found said hat guy, noting with satisfaction that he was characteristically hatless, and you burst into laughter. “I can’t believe he’s here!”

“Right? Probably has the munchies or something,” Chaewon said, laughing along.

You only noticed then the perplexed looks all three boys were sending your way. “Who the heck is hat guy?” Jake asked, which only made you and Chaewon laugh harder.

“You wouldn’t get it,” she replied airily, waving Jake off as she made her way to a customer who had called for her. 

The boys turned to you and you shrunk in your seat at their attention. “Just a guy the girls and I find funny,” you explained, shrugging and glancing quickly at Sunghoon. If only he knew about all the times you and the girls had gossiped about him, even though he’d done nothing of importance.

When her shift was over, the first thing Chaewon did was take off her apron, then dragged you to the bathroom, where she drilled you for details about your cinema “date” with Sunghoon. 

“It was not a date, it just ended up being the two of us because the others couldn’t make it,” you insisted, but she wasn’t having it. “There’s nothing to say anyway. We got there, talked a bit, watched the movie, walked here, and that’s it.”

Chaewon sighed, shaking her head as she reapplied her lip gloss. A small smile made its way onto your lips. “I think he’s into someone else anyway.” 

You noticed how her hand faltered for a split second. “Oh yeah? Who?” she asked, trying to appear nonchalant, but you knew your friend too well. 

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” 

Unbeknownst to either of you, the discussion between the boys back at the table was not too different from yours.

“Bro, I’m literally going to kill you,” Sunghoon whisper-yelled even though you were way out of earshot already. “Do you know how awkward that was?”

“Just so you know, I had nothing to do with this,” Jay said. “I told him that putting two socially constipated idiots like you wouldn’t end well, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“Y/N’s not an idiot!” Jake immediately reacted.

“And I am?!” Sunghoon retorted.

Jay just rolled his eyes.

“You are, because this is the second time you’re alone together with the girl you like and you can barely make conversation with her.”

“For the last time, I don’t like her, I just called her cute once in freshman year-”

“Same thing!”

“Jake, I don’t know how many times I can tell you the same thing before you get it. I’ve been around Y/N enough to know I don’t like her like that, okay? We’ve had two classes where we sat together for a whole semester, and we’ve worked with other people in group projects. Not to mention, you’ve made me sit through one of your practices with her. She’s nice. She sends me the homework when I miss class. She even laughs at my jokes sometimes. And her dog is super cute. I’m sure we’d be better friends if we both didn’t have crippling shyness, but I don’t like her like that. I just don’t.”

“But how?!”

“What do you mean how? This sorta thing doesn’t have any sort of reasonable answer, you just do or you don’t. I don’t. Clearly, you do.”

Jake heard the last part of Sunghoon’s words, and promptly decided to ignore them. He had to understand this first - he’d figure out his feelings later. “This whole time, I thought you were just downplaying your feelings, ‘cause you’re an awkward asshole who doesn’t do emotions,” he said, eyes tightly shut and holding his head, the confusion making his brain hurt.

“Okay, ouch. But no, I wasn’t. I really don’t know what got into your head.”

“I know what got into his head,” Jay said. Both of his friends looked at him questioningly, so he went on. “When Sunghoon mentioned Y/N, you probably thought she was super cute too, Jake. But because of bro code and whatnot, you didn’t wanna show any interest. And then as you saw her around more, you probably liked her more, but you thought Sunghoon liked her, so you sort of gave him your crush on her instead of dealing with it. You lived vicariously through him, basically. Except you’re an idiot because he doesn’t even like her like that, so you could’ve shot your shot a long time ago already. I don’t know why you didn’t just listen to him, to be honest,” Jay finished, shrugging.

“You also thought he liked her!” Jake retorted.

“That’s besides the point. The point is that you’re stupid.”

“But- but, what about all those times you talked about her? I didn’t make those up!” 

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “The most I ever said about her was something like, Y/N and I both forgot our textbook today, or Y/N brought cookies for the class because it’s her birthday. You were always the one to notice her everywhere and go, There’s your crush, or something.”

Jake sighed, defeated. He could admit Sunghoon was right about something, and he was wrong - but he hated that Jay was also right. Had he really managed to bury his feelings for you all these years just for what he thought was Sunghoon’s sake? Sure, he was a loyal friend, but that felt a little much.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, recoiling from his friends’ expectant gazes and taking a sad bite of his cheeseburger. “It’s not like she likes me back, or anything.” 

He watched in confusion as Sunghoon let out a loud groan, screwing his eyes shut and taking his head in his hands as if it hurt. “This is so frustrating, I’m going to kill myself.”

Jake turned to Jay for some sort of explanation to their friend’s sudden suicidal thoughts, but Jay just looked back at Jake with disgust. “When did you become so dumb? I swear you didn’t use to be like this,” he said, shaking his head in disappointment.

Jake’s eyes flickered between his two friends in utter dismay. “What?”

“Jake,” Jay started. “Do you really, honestly, genuinely think Y/N doesn’t like you?”

The boy leaned back in his seat with a pout. “Yeah,” he mumbled.

Sunghoon’s head whipped up at this. Jake gulped at the intense glare his friend fixed him with - he’d never looked so angry with him, and it made Jake wonder what on Earth he could have said or done that made Sunghoon so upset. “Why?” he asked simply, but the frustration was evident in his voice.

Your diary popped up in Jake’s head. What he had read was clear. Of course, the entry dated from over a month ago now, but why would your feelings have changed since then? Jake sighs deeply, getting ready to reveal to his friends what he’d seen, but then he sees you and Chaewon emerging from the bathroom. “They’re coming back,” he mumbled.

It was Sunghoon and Jay’s turn to sigh. “Just pay attention to her, Jake, okay?” Jay instructed, giving his friend an intent look.

“I already do,” Jake replied, frowning.

“No, really pay attention to her. Then use your pea-sized brain for once in your life, and maybe you’ll realize something.”

A strongly-worded reply was on the tip of Jake’s tongue, but all thoughts of violence and murdering his friend were replaced by images of rainbows and pretty flowers when you smiled at him. He felt like the biggest of idiots for liking you so much and only realizing it now.

“Hi,” he said dumbly as you found your seat next to him again, then stole a french fry from you even though he had many left himself. When you gasped at his audacity, he just giggled.

“Hey!” you exclaimed in protest before stealing a fry back. 

If you hadn’t been so caught up in your little world, you’d have noticed the knowing look your three friends exchanged and their simultaneous eye roll. 

—

The following Monday, you decided to have your tutoring session at your house instead of Jake’s. His mom was away at a convention for the week, so you’d have to take the bus anyway - since your house was two stops earlier, you offered to switch it up for once. Jake had never actually been inside your house and was curious to see what it was like, so he eagerly agreed. 

Kiwi was happy to see him and followed the two of you around the house as you gave Jake a quick tour before going up to your room. When you reached the top landing, you realized that Kiwi was still at the bottom of the stairs and was looking up at you expectantly. “Is she not allowed upstairs?” Jake asked.

“Usually not, but I let her come up when my mom’s not here. Come on Kiwi! It’s okay!”

Kiwi didn’t need to be told twice - she trudged her little body up the stairs, and you couldn’t help but giggle at her adorableness. “She’s so cute,” you cooed, looking at your dog with a huge smile on your face.

“She really is,” Jake agreed, but when you turned your head to face him, he wasn’t looking at Kiwi - he was looking straight at you, a softness in his eyes that made your stomach turn. He snapped out of it when he noticed your round, surprised eyes, and cleared his throat. “So, where’s your room?” he asked, looking around the hallway and avoiding your gaze.

“Over there,” you replied, fighting the smile that tried to make its way to your lips as you headed towards your room, Jake and Kiwi following right behind. 

You told Jake to wait for a second as you went to get a second chair. When you came back, he was standing in front of your shelves, upper body slightly bent forwards to observe all the decorations and framed pictures closer. You placed the chair next to your desk then joined him, answering all the questions he had about the items on your shelves. Who’s this? When was this? Where did you get this? In his defense, you really did have a lot of things - you were trying to get rid of your hoarding habits, but you got attached to every small thing that held some sort of significance. You went to sit at the edge of your bed and just watched him, his eyes glinting with curiosity.

It reminded you of the first time you’d been to his house, how upset he’d seemed when you talked about his baby pictures and how you hadn’t wanted to risk looking at all the stuff in his room. You were also curious about things like that, and you wondered once again what had bothered him so much. The question was burning your tongue - although you were nervous to ask it, not wanting to upset Jake once more, you now knew him well enough to know he wasn’t the type to stay mad for long. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Jake replied, fingers toying with your favorite Littlest Pet Shop figurine you had kept from when you were eight.

“Why didn’t you want me to look at your baby photos that one time?”

Jake paused at your words. He stood up straight and set the figurine back on the shelf. He glanced at you before walking over to your bed and taking a seat next to you, leaning back on his palms while you rested your hands underneath your thighs. 

“You probably noticed I don’t mention my dad, right? Or the fact that he’s never home?” 

You nodded in response. You had noticed it, but you’d never brought the topic up in case it might be sensitive. Jake sighed. “He passed away when I was six.”

You turned your head towards him. To your surprise, his face remained expressionless - you couldn’t detect any sort of sadness or anger in his features, as if he was just reciting a fact. His uncharacteristic numbness upset you even more than any tears could have. 

He met your gaze and gave you a small smile. “I was so young that I only have very vague memories of him, like playing soccer together in the backyard or a trip to the beach with my parents and my brother. I only remember his face and his voice from the photos and videos my mom has shown me.” He sighed again, shifting forwards and resting his hands in his lap, fiddling with his fingers. “So when I see these pictures, they sort of just remind me of what I’ve lost? I really don’t like lingering on them. I sort of just ignore them every time I walk up or down the stairs.”

“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have mentioned them if I’d known-”

Jake is quick to shake his head. “No, no, don’t be sorry. You couldn’t have guessed.” You want to comfort Jake in some way, thank him for telling you something so personal, but you’re not sure what words to use - so, instead, you take one of his hands in yours and bring it to your lap, then cover it with your other one. Your eyes meet for a second - he looks slightly taken aback at first, but then, his eyes drift down to your joined hands, and a small blush spreads on his cheeks.

“I’m- I’m okay, really. Like I said, it happened so long ago that I’m used to not having a dad now. It almost feels like it’s always been that way, which makes it even weirder to think it wasn’t. It’s just… It feels weird to miss someone I barely remember so much, you know?”

You nodded and let out a low hum. “I do know.” Jake tilted his head at you, silently asking you to go on. “It’s different, but I get that feeling of missing something you barely remember. I have these blurry memories of my parents being happy together and the three of us being a happy family, and then all of a sudden it’s hearing arguments from my room and my dad moving out, and they’re asking me, Do you wanna live with mom or dad?”

You watched as Jake moved his hand slightly, intertwining your fingers together and squeezing your hand. “I was older than you were when they divorced, so I guess I have more memories to hold onto, but they hurt more than anything.” You let out a deep sigh. “My dad cheated, so it’s not like I wished my mom had stayed with him, but I was too young to understand what was happening. I just wanted my parents together again.” 

When you lifted your head to look at him, he met your gaze, and his eyes were so soft yet so intense, like he was seeing right into you. Then he chuckled. “Do you ever get jealous of other people’s parents?” he asks, a shy smile playing on his lips.

“All the time,” you admitted with a chuckle, relieved to find out you weren’t the only one. “Yena has been blessed with these like, practically perfect parents that are still in love after twenty years, never argue and have a healthy relationship with all of their kids. I’m so in awe every time I see them.”

“Sunghoon’s parents are like that. I feel terrible, but every time they come to cheer him on at his competitions, I just get so jealous, wishing I also had three people coming to see my games and not just two. And I always feel so silly for feeling that way.”

“You’re not silly for that, Jake,” you said, and the honesty in your voice seemed to take him aback slightly. A grin spread on your lips. “You may be silly for other things, but not for that,” you teased, making him chuckle. “I can be your third person, if you want,” you said softly, lightly bumping your shoulder against his.

His eyes seemed to light up at your words, and your smile couldn’t help but get wider at his reaction - that was, until he raised an eyebrow, almost defiantly. “Yeah? I thought you found soccer boring,” he said with a playful smirk.

“It’s not boring if you’re the one playing,” you replied. A small noise of surprise escaped his throat before he could help it, not expecting you to be so forward, and you both burst into giggles. 

He cleared his throat when you both calmed down and stood up straighter, trying to put on a cool front. “Of course it isn’t.” He turned his head to look out the window, and the sight of the sunlight perfectly hitting his features and turning his dark brown eyes a hazel color almost took your breath away. “It’s really nice out,” he suddenly said. He turned back to you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “How about we ditch the tutoring for today and go out?”

His eyes drifted down to your lips, watching as a smile tugged at the corners of your own. “I’m in.”

That was how you found yourselves sitting at a bench in the park close to your house, eating ice cream and watching Kiwi and Layla play together. You tried each other’s ice cream, and you regretted your choice of simple vanilla and strawberry as soon as Jake’s mango ice cream touched your tongue. Your eyes widened at the amazing taste - it felt like you had bit into an actual mango. 

“Good, right?” Jake asked, chuckling at your reaction.

“What the heck, yours is so much better than mine,” you mumbled, pouting at the ice cream in your cup like it had personally hurt you.

Jake thought for a second, looking back and forth between your upset expression and his own cup. “Wanna switch?”

Your heart was screaming yes, but your brain was screaming no. You tried your best to appear genuine when you smiled at him. “No, don’t worry about it. I still like mine.” You looked at him as you scooped another spoonful into your mouth as if to prove to him you were happy with your choice, even going so far as to hum in delight.

Jake just chuckled and shook his head at you, taking your cup and giving you his anyway. You were about to protest until he started eating your ice cream, imitating your previous hum. You quietly accepted the exchange, smiling as you tasted the mango ice cream again and trying to ignore the fact that Jake hadn’t switched the spoons with the cups, so you were using his and he was using yours. 

As you ate in silence, occasionally chuckling at your dogs’ antics, Jake stole some glances at you. He wasn’t sure why you looked so much prettier today than all the times he’d seen you before. Or maybe you were just as pretty as you’d always been, and he was just finally letting himself admit it. 

He may have had many friends, but there weren’t many people Jake was truly himself around. He always felt the need to be this friendly, outgoing guy that made it seem like everything was going well in his life, but with you, he felt like it was okay to stop pretending. He felt like it was okay to ask for help, like it was okay to reveal the darker parts of his life.

Now that Jay and Sunghoon had practically forced him to see the truth, Jake didn’t know what to do about his feelings for you. He finally understood why he always looked forward to your tutoring sessions, why he was so excited whenever he walked past you in the hallways, and why he was so bothered about you and Sunghoon getting along.

Sunghoon. Because even if Jake now knew that he liked you, he also knew that you liked someone else. And what was the point of letting himself fall for you even more when there was no happy ending in sight for him? He’d only get hurt in the end.

Just as the thought hit him, you turned to look at him and meet his gaze, a soft smile on your lips. Every time you smiled at him like that, Jake felt like he was watching a movie. Everything happened in slow-motion, with flowers falling around you and violins playing in the background. Jake almost felt sick, knowing he was only the second lead in your romance movie. He was the stupid werewolf and Sunghoon was the vampire that glistened in the sun and got the girl. (You had convinced him to watch Twilight, saying it was a mandatory watch to understand who you were as a person. Of course, Jake had streamed it that same night. The soundtrack was surprisingly good.)

Your voice snapped him out of his downward-spiraling thoughts. “You know, I almost got scared that Sunghoon would appear out of thin air and start hanging out with us.”

Jake tried not to sneer at the mention of his best-friend-turned-number-one-nemesis. “Why? Wouldn’t you like that?” he mumbled, clearly doing a poor job of seeming unaffected.

You frowned, then lowered your head, focusing your gaze on your almost-finished ice cream. “No, I’d rather if it was just the two of us.” Jake’s eyes widened, unsure if he’d heard that correctly or not. But before he could say anything in response, you spoke again. “It’s just, he was there when I came to watch your practice and when I thought we were all going to see a movie together, it was just him and me. You would’ve liked that movie, by the way,” you said, looking up at Jake with a smile.

Jake’s heart swelled. He wasn’t sure what what you were saying all meant, but unconsciously, his lips mirrored yours and he smiled back at you. Until he remembered you didn’t like him, and his smile fell immediately. Obviously, you had no idea what he was thinking, so his sudden stony expression sent alarms ringing through your head.

“It’s not that I don’t like him, or anything,” you said, panicked, and Jake had to keep himself from scoffing, “it’s just that- you know. It’s nice to hang out with you outside of tutoring sessions,” you finished, mumbling. 

Jake had no idea what you were saying, so he stayed quiet, watching as Kiwi and Layla ran around in circles. You liked Sunghoon, so why would you rather hang out with Jake and not him? You weren’t making any sense. 

You, on the other hand, were not liking Jake’s uncharacteristic silence. In hopes of getting his attention, you crossed one leg over the other, shifting on the bench to face him. “Plus, don’t you think he and Chaewon really hit it off the other night? I think that was the most I’ve ever heard him talk,” you said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. To your dismay, it didn’t work. You didn’t know whether he was sulking or genuinely upset - all you knew was you desperately wanted to see a smile on his pretty face again.

“Jakey?” you called out, and your voice sounded so small it hurt his heart. He hummed in response, only glancing at you for a fraction of a second. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” he replied, scooping the last of the ice cream in his mouth. As he tasted the strawberry and vanilla flavors, he couldn’t believe he had given his precious mango ice cream up all for a girl who didn’t even like him back. What a fool.

“I don’t know, you’re all- weird, all of a sudden, for lack of a better word.” You searched for some sort of an answer in his eyes, but he supplied you with none. 

Jake sighed deeply. He could feel the ugly mix of emotions in his belly turning into anger - anger at what exactly, he wasn’t sure, but he didn’t want to lay it on you. “It’s just the heat, it’s making me tired,” he said. Sure, it was warm for a May afternoon, but it wasn’t that hot. But you didn’t want to push it.

“Should we go home?“ you offered, and the worry in your voice made him feel even worse. He just couldn’t understand why you were being so nice to him. He knew you probably just thought you were looking after a friend, but he'd rather you not care about his well-being and leave him be. He didn’t need one more reason to like you - he already had plenty of those. 

He nodded, mustering as convincing a smile as he could. “Sure.” 

The walk home was much quieter than usual. You could feel that Jake was keeping something to himself, and it was killing you; but whatever it was, you wanted him to tell you when he felt ready and not feel forced to. Your hand was aching, desperate to reach out and grab his as you had done before, but you were afraid that would only push him away even further. So you stayed silent most of the time, only commenting on the things around you or speaking a thought out loud when you thought it might make Jake smile. Every time his lips curled up, even ever so slightly, your heart swelled with relief.

Unbeknownst to you, Jake was making up his mind. He knew he needed time away from you to gather his feelings before he could see you as a friend again. 

When you reached your house, Jake waited outside with the dogs as you grabbed his bag he’d left upstairs. You hugged goodbye as always, but this one was different - it lasted a few seconds longer than usual, and you could swear Jake held you tighter than he normally would. It felt like he was saying goodbye for more than just a couple days.

You didn’t understand why it made your heart ache so much.

—

The next day, when you walked past Jake and Sunghoon in the hallway, Jake barely glanced at you and only tilted his head in your general direction instead of his usual wide grin and wave. You were so shocked by his sudden snubbing that you halted in your steps right away, looking behind you at his retreating figure. You locked eyes with Sunghoon, who seemed just as confused as you felt. He shrugged at you before returning to his friend and nudging his arm.

On Wednesday morning, you got a text from Jake that he couldn’t make it to your tutoring session that afternoon because of an extra soccer practice to prepare for their game that weekend, something he had never mentioned before.

Thursday and Friday weren’t very different, and your heart became heavier with every time you walked past each other and he acted like you weren’t even there. You desperately wanted to know what you’d done wrong, why he’d started to reply in one-word sentences instead of his usual voice messages and tons of emojis, but no matter how much you cogitated, you couldn’t figure it out. Even when you asked him how his game had gone, a dry Good stared back at you from your phone screen.

That Saturday, your girlfriends came over. Yena had brought beads and strings to make accessories out of, and the mere sight of them had brought fond memories back to all four of you - during your first sleepover in freshman year, this was the exact activity that had kept you occupied for hours. 

You got started on them immediately, each finding a comfortable spot in your room as soft music played in the background. You lay on your bed while Chaewon and Yena took over the floor and Hyewon sat at your desk.

“I’m gonna make one of those phone accessories,” Yena said excitedly, reaching for the biggest, most colorful beads.

“I’m gonna make couple bracelets for Jaemin and I,” Hyewon said somewhat shyly but beaming. Yena and Chaewon groaned at her words, but they gave you an idea.

“You guys are vomit-inducing,” Yena replied, and if you didn’t know your friend any better, just going off the tone of her voice, you’d have thought she was being serious. Hyewon just rolled her eyes, used to this daily slander she received simply for being in a relationship.

“I’ll make something for my little sister,” Chaewon butted in, and you and Yena simultaneously ‘aww’ed. 

“So it’s aww when Chaewon does it for her sister, and it’s vomit-inducing when I do it for my boyfriend?” Hyewon exclaimed, appalled.

“Little sisters are cute. Boyfriends are gross,” Yena replied matter-of-factly, making you giggle.

“Whatever. You guys are just jealous that you’re dying alone and I’m not. What are you making, Y/N?” she asked before Yena could retort again. The two exchanged a glare as you thought over your answer.

“I’m not saying,” you replied with a giggle. 

“She’s making one for Jake, that evil wench,” Chaewon immediately said, making your eyes widen. Yena gasped dramatically while Hyewon smiled at you.

“How did you know?” you asked Chaewon.

“Just your face. You’re so obvious,” she snickered. 

“You’re a traitor, Y/N!” Yena exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at you, and you hid your face in your hands, muttering an apology. “Wasting time and energy on a boy.”

“Don’t listen to her, Y/N. Whatever it is you make, he’ll be super happy you thought of him. Then he’ll finally ask you out and you’ll live happily ever after, just like me and Jaemin,” Hyewon said with a serene smile on her face. Chaewon and Yena exchanged a look, then faked a gagging sound. “So bitter,” Hyewon muttered, shaking her head at your friends.

“I’m not sure about that,” you sighed. “I just want to be friends again. He’s been ignoring me all week.”

All three snapped their heads up at you. “He’s been ignoring you?” Yena echoed, and you meekly nodded. “Give me his phone number. No, give me his address. I’m going there right now,” she said, already sitting up.

“Gosh, Yena, it’s fine,” you said, gesturing at her to sit back down, laughing at your friend’s seriousness. “I’ll see him on Monday anyway, I can just see how he behaves then.”

Yena didn’t look convinced, but she yielded anyway. “If he hurts you, I swear I’ll give him a stern talking to. And a broken nose.” You laughed as you thanked your friend. 

Hyewon asked for more details about this Jake situation, so you filled your friends in about his mysterious behavior that week. Chaewon had been the only one to see it firsthand, when you’d walked to a class together and Jake had walked past you without saying anything. You told them about his sparse answers to your texts, his lack of response to the TikToks you sent him. He wasn’t even reacting to your BeReals anymore. It was just such a complete switch-up in attitude that you had no idea what to make of it. They tried to come up with reasons for it, but it really didn’t make much sense. It just felt like he suddenly decided to hate you - or maybe you had been interpreting everything wrong, and the two of you had never been friends in the first place. 

“This is so confusing,” Chaewon suddenly said, seeming lost in thought. “I thought for sure that he liked you.”

“Liked… me?” you echoed.

“Yeah. Just the way he was when we were at the diner. He kept looking at you and was always smiling and blushing whenever you talked to him. Also the way Jay and Sunghoon were behaving. Boys are so obvious when their friend likes someone, it’s like they’re trying to fumble it for him. And I mean, anyone with functioning eyes can see that you like him too, so I don’t know why he’s doing this all of a sudden.”

Yena sighed. “Boys are stupid.”

“That, they are,” you agreed, sighing as well and returning your attention to your craft. Maybe a simple gift like this wouldn’t fix what was going on between you and Jake, but you had to at least try. You couldn’t let go of your friendship so easily.

Even though it seemed as though he could.

Nothing changed the next week. On Monday, you woke up to a text that pulled your heart down into your stomach.

jakey-poo i think we should stop tutoring each other for now

For an hour as you ate breakfast and got ready for school, you ruminated over your answer, only to ask him a simple why? in the end.

jakey-poo i’m to busy w soccer practice and other stuff we can start again when exams are near

you oh okay

You felt pathetic, but you had no idea what to say. You couldn’t force him into this, and you definitely couldn’t show up at his house and demand a better explanation. If you were Yena or Chaewon, maybe you could - but you weren’t. You couldn’t even bring yourself to ask him if the two of you could still hang out outside of that, so scared you were for his inevitable rejection.

During the week, you tried to find a time when you could give him your small handmade gift, but Jake wasn’t even looking you in the eyes anymore. The only time you made eye contact with him over those five days was on Wednesday at lunch - as you walked into the cafeteria, you scanned the whole room, unconsciously searching for him. When you did, he was already looking at you - he was close enough for you to see the slight frown in his eyebrows, the lack of the usual glint in his eyes. But as soon as he’d seen you’d found him, he turned away. You only looked away when Chaewon called out your name.

In the few classes you had together, he always slipped away before you could get to him. Him walking past you like he couldn’t even see you broke your heart a little bit more every time, and by Friday, you had completely given up. Your friendship with Jake was over, and you had no idea why, no idea who or what to blame.

Monday and Wednesday afternoons felt empty now that you had gotten used to spending them with him, and you couldn’t even walk Kiwi without missing him. He seemed to miss Jake and Layla too - he’d sometimes tilt his head at you as if asking where your new friends were, and when you got to the park, he’d gloomily stick to you instead of running around like he usually would, especially when Layla was there.

The worst part was at night, when your thoughts kept you up. You’d reread your and Jake’s text conversations, wondering what went so wrong so quickly, warm tears spilling from your eyes out of sadness and tiredness. On those nights, you’d sneak Kiwi up to your room and let him cuddle up to you in your bed. You’d comfort each other that way.

You had no idea that a couple kilometers away, Jake lay in bed sleepless as well, Layla at the edge of his bed and whining in her sleep. You had no idea that missing you had carved a deep hole in his chest.

—

Enough was enough.

It had been days since Layla had last seen Kiwi, and to a young pup like her, that felt like eternity. Lately, Jake hadn’t seemed happy to go on walks with her like he used to, and he barely had any energy to play with her. She also hadn’t seen you in days, and she wondered if that had anything to do with Jake’s recent despondency. 

But thankfully, Layla was a smart girl, so she knew exactly what to do to fix this dire situation. On Friday, she waited for Jake to come back from soccer practice and take her on a walk. As soon as they reached the sidewalk outside of their house, she pulled on her leash in the opposite direction of their usual route. Jake tried pulling her the other way, but she wouldn’t budge.

“We’re going that way, Layla,” Jake said, amused by his dog’s sudden stubbornness. Layla barked back. “Come on!” 

She was really not moving. “We never go that way,” Jake said, sighing. “That way’s the-”

That’s when he realized. Layla wanted to go to the park you went to with Kiwi. “But what if we ran into them?” Jake asked. 

Layla barked again. She wanted to say, That’s exactly why I want to go there, but of course Jake didn’t understand. He sighed again and obliged, letting Layla lead the way. She had a good feeling that she’d finally see her friends again today. 

Jake’s heart started beating faster with every step he took, knowing that you might be out right now, too. When he’d seen you at school, you’d seemed as sad as he was, and he felt terrible for perhaps being the reason behind it - but he didn’t know what else to do. He could either spare your feelings or his. If this was hurting you, he knew you’d move on quickly enough anyway - and when he came to terms with being just friends with you, he’d come back, and everything would be perfect like it used to be. Foolproof plan.

If there was one thing Jake had learned from the tutoring sessions with you, it was that the weather always reflected the protagonist’s inner thoughts. If they were upset, it would be gray and rainy - if they were happy, it would be warm and sunny. Jake glared at the sun, just another reminder that he wasn’t the main character in this story. If he was, it would be thundering and lightning would be striking.

As if his life was a joke, two minutes after Jake and Layla had walked into the park, he saw you. At least you were facing the other direction, so you couldn’t see him, and he could redirect his route to avoid you. But he let himself indulge in the moment for a few seconds. You had laid out a picnic blanket for you and Kiwi and rested on your stomach with your elbows propping you up, reading a book. Kiwi slept peacefully next to you - this dog was the furthest thing from a guard dog Jake had ever seen. You kicked your feet up in the air, flip flops discarded to the side of the blanket. Jake was happy to see you like this, enjoying the warmth of this sunny May afternoon. 

He was about to walk away, but a sudden movement caught his eye. Two school kids started running to you, and before you could even register their presence, one of them snatched your flip flops and they both sprinted away, shrieking with laughter like two little devils. Where the hell were their parents?!

Without thinking, Jake started running after them, and so did Kiwi and Layla. 

“Hey! Come back here!” Jake yelled, hoping in vain that these kids would listen to someone older than them. Kiwi did his best, but his tiny legs didn’t allow for such a chase - Layla, barking loudly at the thieves, was the first to reach them, and she managed to scare them so much, they tripped over their feet. But unlike them, she was well-behaved, so she sat once her job was done and waited for Jake to arrive. 

“What are you two doing? You can’t just steal other people’s things!” he admonished, holding onto his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

Both kids were already teary-eyed. “We just wanted to play a prank, we’re sorry!” one of them quickly said, voice shaky.

“It’s not to me you should apologize, but to her,” Jake said, turning around to point in your direction. That’s when he noticed you sitting on your knees, hands covering your face as your shoulders trembled. “You made her cry!” Jake exclaimed, tone much angrier than seconds prior. “Let’s go,” he said, grabbing the kids by their shoulders and forcing them to keep up with his quick steps.

You didn’t notice their presence in front of you until Jake prompted them. At the sound of the all too familiar voice, you whipped your head up. Jake swore he heard his heart breaking when he saw your red eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. You barely heard the kids’ apology, so amazed you were at suddenly seeing Jake.

“We’re sorry for stealing your flip-flops and making you cry,” the first one said.

“Sorry,” repeated the other one, handing you your shoes.

“Oh, right. Thanks, just don’t do it again,” you replied, sniffing as you took back your shoes.

“We won’t!” they replied in unison before running away once more.

Jake stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, unsure what to say. He watched you stare at your flip flops like you’d never seen them before in your life. “You��re not going to thank me for catching those delinquents?” he asked after a small while, chuckling slightly.

This made you look up at him. He gulped as your eyes met. Then, you burst into sobs again, and Jake started panicking. He crouched down to your level, first holding you by the shoulders then forcing your head out of your hands so he could wipe away your tears with the pads of his thumbs.

“No no no, why are you crying, Y/N?” he asked softly, pulling you into a hug.

You continued crying into his shoulder, ignoring Kiwi and Layla’s confused stares. “You- you- I haven’t seen you in ages!” you exclaimed.

Jake sighed. He didn’t understand why you were crying like this for him, all he knew was that he’d never felt so awful. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered into your hair, pulling your shaking body closer to him. “I’m sorry.”

You leaned back to glare at Jake, your bottom lip jutting out in discontent. “Do you even know how much I missed you?”

Jake held your head in his hands like it was the most precious thing in the world. Mouth agape in surprise, he looked at you with sad eyes. “You… you did?”

Your eyebrows creased. “Of course I did!” Another sob rippled through your body, and Jake took you back in his arms, wrapping them around your shoulders and resting his cheek against your hair. 

“I missed you too.”

“Then why did you do this?” you asked, voice breaking.

“Because I didn’t want to get hurt,” Jake whispered back. “But I didn’t think I’d hurt you. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You leaned back again, but this time, you looked confused rather than angry. His eyes were soft as they scanned your face and as he brushed strands of your hair back behind your ears. “Why would you get hurt?” you asked again, bringing your voice to the same volume as his.

Jake sighed and squeezed his eyes shut for a second, as if in pain, before opening them again and boring them into yours. “I like you so, so much Y/N. So much so that I don’t know what to do with myself. But I know that you don’t feel the same way, and I was scared that by staying by your side, I’d just fall in love with you even more and get hurt in the end. So I pushed you away because I didn’t know what else to do, but I’m so sorry I- You’re crying again?”

Your fists grabbed at the front of Jake’s t-shirt as sobs raked through your body once more. It was official - Jake was the stupidest person you’d ever met. And you were in love with him.

“Why are you crying?”

“Because I like you too, you idiot!” you yelled back. Your tears were probably staining his t-shirt, but you couldn’t care less. He liked you. Jake liked you.

You were too busy crying to see Jake’s eyes slowly widening in disbelief. “You what?!”

Gently, Jake pushed your shoulders back so he could look at you. Even with puffy eyes and a runny nose, you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. Pretty like an angel that had graced the Earth with her presence. “You what?” he repeated, just to hear you say it again.

“I like you, Jake. I’m so in love with you it's actually pathetic,” you said with a chuckle, looking down out of shyness. But when you looked back up, Jake’s eyes were going back and forth between yours, the expression on his face like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard but desperately hoped it was true.

As you locked eyes, both of your faces lit up with grins. You burst into laughter together, finding each other’s hands and intertwining your fingers together. Then Jake brought you back into his arms, holding tightly, as if he was scared you might disappear any second. Kiwi and Layla had long walked away to give the two of you some needed privacy.

In each other’s arms, you rocked side to side gently and laughed for no reason other than the incredible fact your feelings were reciprocated. “You stink, you know,” you suddenly said in-between giggles. “You sweat while you ran after those kids.”

“I sweat? You mean I swote, right?” Jake asked a pause.

You leaned back to look at Jake. “Swote?” you echoed, and he nodded. Your umpteenth smile made your cheeks lift. “You have to be kidding-”

“I am,” Jake cut off, mirroring your smile. “I just wanted to make you laugh.”

You gasped and lightly punched his chest before letting your body fall against his again. “You’re so silly,” you said, sighing in bliss at the sound of his giggles.

Then all of a sudden, Jake pulled away and looked at you, almost frightened. “What about Sunghoon?” 

“What about him?” you asked back, confused by Jake’s question.

“I thought you- Didn’t you- you know…”

You tilted your head at Jake, a small grin spreading on your lips again. “I don’t know.”

“I thought you liked him…” Jake mumbled, looking away with a pout.

Before you could stop it, a noise of confusion left your throat. You looked at Jake like he was insane. “I can barely have a conversation with Sunghoon, what made you think I liked him?”

Jake pursed his lips and let a resigned puff of air out of his nose. “I, um- Remember when we mixed our backpacks up?” he asked and you nodded, smiling at the fun memory. “I may have, um, I may have read… your… diary,” he admitted, voice getting quieter with each word. He dared a glance at you - you looked horrified, eyes wide and mouth agape. “And you wrote that you liked Sunghoon,” he finished with a whisper.

It was silent for a few seconds, and Jake was bracing himself for a slap to the face or your screams, until you did the last thing Jake expected you to do - you laughed. You laughed so hard and for so long that he got scared you had gone insane and this was the first part of your mental breakdown before you murdered him in cold blood for having invaded your privacy. He would’ve deserved it, he thought.

“I don’t- oh my God, Jake, I don’t- I don’t like Sunghoon. I never really have, or not in the way you think, I can’t- oh my God,” you explained in between giggles, trying to catch your breath but starting to laugh again every time you managed to compose yourself. Jake tried to laugh along, but he was too confused to do so properly.

“You’re not mad?” Jake asked, eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“No,” you replied, shaking your head and the last giggles out of your throat. “You read it ages ago, and we didn’t even know each other back then, there’s no point in being mad now. It’s just funny - I know exactly why you think I liked Sunghoon, but I didn’t. Not really. And even if I did, those feelings are nothing compared to the ones I have for you now,” you said, beaming. A blush spread on Jake’s cheeks, and you could tell he was trying (and failing) to contain a proud grin.

You explained to Jake the ‘character’ thing you and your friends had going on and that Sunghoon (and hat guy) just happened to be one of them - you watched as Jake narrowed his eyes and slowly nodded, trying to understand this concept that was so foreign to him. 

“You know, it all makes a lot more sense now,” Jake said when you were explaining. “It would’ve been weird for you to like Sunghoon when I was right there.” He smirked down at you as you playfully rolled your eyes. 

“Oh my God!” you suddenly exclaimed, startling Jake in the process. Dramatic as always, he put a hand over his heart and exhaled loudly. “I have something for you. For us, actually.” You reached into your bag and got out the two accessories you’d made for you and Jake. “These are for us to put on our backpacks, so that we don’t confuse them again. They also match.”

Jake’s eyes were fixated on the string of beads as you placed into his palm. “I tried to give it to you over the week, but…” 

A teardrop fell into Jake’s palms, and when you looked at him, you realized he’d started crying. “Jake?” you cooed softly, and he sniffled, wiping away the tears from his eyes.

As a response, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and buried his face in your hair. “Thank you. And I’m sorry. I promise you’ll never go a second without my undivided attention from now on,” he said, voice shaking with emotion, and you hummed happily.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

He leaned back, and you were relieved to find the familiar puppyish grin on his lips. You gazed into each other’s eyes for a few seconds, and before he could stop himself, he grabbed your head in his hands and pressed a delicate kiss to your forehead. You raised your eyebrows in surprise, but when his face was back in front of yours, your eyes immediately drifted to his lips. They looked soft and plump and pink, and were utterly inviting. Every time you’d started daydreaming about kissing Jake, you’d stopped yourself, not wanting to over-indulge in your fantasies. But was this finally, really happening?

“Y/N?” Jake said quietly. You could swear his face was getting closer.

“Hm?”

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

Your face broke out into a grin. Without warning, you pressed your lips against Jake’s - initially just for a peck, but as soon as you started pulling away, Jake chased after your lips and trapped them into a kiss, a proper one this time. You’d never done this before, so it was naturally somewhat clumsy, but you and Jake were so giddy with excitement that you couldn’t care less. So what if you were smiling so hard, your teeth clashed against his, or you kept bumping noses? You were kissing Jake Sim. 

The second time around, he let you pull away to catch your breath, and you wished you could photograph the sight in front of you - Jake with flushed cheeks, closed eyes and a serene smile on his face. He was so pretty, and now, he was all yours.

When he opens his eyes and finds you looking at him, his smile widens. “I’ll take that as a yes?”

“Yes,” you echoed, laughing. You pressed your lips to his cheek before burying your face in the crook of his neck.

He hugged you to him and the sweet sound of his giggles filled your ears and your heart. “My girl,” he whispered, before leaning his head back, face to the sky, and screaming it loud enough for the whole park to hear. You tried to shush him, but you couldn’t stop laughing yourself out of sheer excitement. Layla and Kiwi came running back to you, barking happily and trying to lick your faces. 

“I cried so much today, my eyes are gonna be puffy tomorrow morning,” you said between giggles. 

Jake pressed his lips to yours in a chaste kiss. “I’ll make sure you never cry again, Y/N,” he said, and he sounded so genuine, you almost wanted to cry again right then and there.

The rest of the afternoon went by in a blur - while you and Jake kissed, laughed, talked, and hugged, hours that felt like minutes passed you by. Jake kept on looking at the accessory you made him, poking fun at you for knowing his favorite color even though he’d never mentioned it.

“It was a lucky guess,” you grumbled. “Your room’s walls are that color,” you said, pointing to a particular dark blue bead.

“I love it,” he replied with a kiss to your forehead.

As always, he walks you home - and this time, you can take his hand without any hesitation. Your mom had come home from work while you and Jake were out, and you found her in the kitchen, prepping some veggies for dinner. 

As soon as Jake introduced himself, a flash of revelation struck her and she shot you a knowing smirk. “So you’re Jake,” she said, and the boy glanced at you with amused confusion. “That one over there has been badgering me about you these past few weeks.”

Apparently, you agreeing to be his girlfriend had already gone to his head, because instead of looking surprised at your mom’s words, he slowly turned to you with an arrogant smirk gracing his lips. “Has she?”

Your mom nodded slowly. “Oh, yes.” Then her expression slowly morphed into something else as she remembered your red, puffy eyes from the other evening when you’d told her about what was going on with Jake. She raised her kitchen knife and pointed it straight to him, eyes narrowed. “If you ever hurt my daughter again, I’m putting you in the lasagna, young man.”

Jake gulped, smirk completely wiped off of his face. You just watched in amusement. “I- I won’t,” he stuttered, eyes fixed on the blade of the knife.

A wide grin reappeared on your mom’s face as she went back to cutting the vegetables. “Good!” 

Jake looked at you for some sort of explanation, but you simply shrugged. He’d just have to get used to your mom’s crazy. 

“You know, you’re just as handsome as she described,” your mom told Jake with a wink.

“Mom, please!” you exclaimed, cheeks burning with heat. You liked it better when she was threatening your boyfriend with a knife, but he was relieved by the new turn this conversation had taken.

“What else has she said?”

“Oh, you know, just your typical he’s so smart, he’s so cute, he’s so funny-”

“Okay, that’s it!” you cut in before your mom could spill more on you. You ignored Jake’s noises of complaint as you grabbed him by the shoulders and led him towards the door. “I think it’s time for you to go home, no?” 

“Y/N, come on!” Jake whined, giggling. 

“Why don’t you stay for dinner, Jake?” your mom offered, making you stop in your tracks. You stared wide-eyed at her but she just looked at Jake, wearing an inviting smile.

“Sure!” Jake beamed. “I just need to call my mom.”

“Oh, invite her along! I always make enough to feed an army, anyway.”

“Really?” Jake asked, incredulous. Since his brother had left for university, it had always been just he and his mom at the dinner table. The thought of sharing a meal with you and your mom filled his heart with warmth. 

“Yeah!”

Jake smiled giddily as he got his phone out. “Thanks, she’ll be stoked.”

Although you both wanted to help your mom, she urged you to stay outside with the dogs and enjoy the last rays of sunshine of the day, insisting she didn’t need any help. So you and Jake spent some time throwing sticks for Kiwi and Layla and giggling at their cuteness. Kiwi quickly got exhausted and came to lie down at your feet, but Layla was tireless. “Your dog, your responsibility,” you said as you sat down next to Kiwi, rubbing his tummy and watching Jake throw the stick over and over again for Layla.

Jake was as relentless as Layla, and every time she ran after the stick, he ran to you and pressed a kiss to another part of your face, making you giggle every time. Once on your forehead, once on your nose, once on your cheek, then the other, and once on your lips.

Then his mom rang the bell, and as your mom opened the door for her, the oddest thing happened - they called out each other’s name and hugged as if they were old friends. You and Jake exchanged a confused look before turning your attention back to them.

“What a coincidence!”

“Right! Such a small world, I can’t believe you’re my daughter’s boyfriend’s mom.”

“Boyfriend? Gosh, has he finally asked her out? I was going crazy seeing him moping around in his room!”

“Mom!” Jake yelled, face already reddening as you burst into laughter.

You joined them inside the house and set the table while your mom finished up dinner. Jake’s mom had brought a bottle of red wine as a gift, so she poured two glasses for her and your mom, but you and Jake stuck to Sprite. 

Apparently, they knew each other from some yoga class they both went to every Sunday - you found out this was the woman your mom often went out for lunch or drinks with. They were so excited to meet each other like this that they talked most of the time, leaving you and Jake to eat your food quietly and giggling every time you made eye contact or your feet touched under the table. 

Just as you were about to take your last bite of lasagna, your phone pinged with a message. Curiously, so did Jake’s. Chaewon had sent a message into the group chat, asking to meet her at work when her shift was done because she was craving an Oreo milkshake.

chae bae y/n u better come ik ur not doing anything better tonight anyway

You scoffed. You were doing something better.

“Shit, today’s Friday! The boys are waiting for me at the diner, I completely forgot,” Jake exclaimed as he read the messages on his phone.

“Language, Jake,” his mom scolded.

“At the diner?” you repeated.

“Yeah, that one we went to last time. Why?” Jake asked when he noticed your surprised expression.

“That’s where Chaewon wants to meet.”

You both turned to your respective moms, silently asking for permission to leave the dinner table.

“Just go,” your mother said with a smile.

“I’ll take Layla home later,” Jake’s mom added.

You thanked them before rushing to get a bag and heading to the bus stop, hoping a bus would come by soon. Twenty minutes later, you were opening the doors of the diner and looking around for your friends, who were nowhere to be found. You were fishing your phone out of your pocket to call Chaewon when a familiar voice caught your and Jake’s attention.

“What are they doing together?” you heard Jay say, followed by loud shushes. You turned your head to find all five of your friends (plus Jaemin) crammed in a booth in the corner that was somewhat hidden from the rest of the restaurant. But they were trying so hard to be discreet that it made their presence even more obvious - they hid their faces with their hands as if that would make them disappear from your view. You and Jake shared a look before chuckling, shaking your head at your friends.

“Whatever, they’ve clearly found us,” Jay sighed and exited the booth, walking towards the two of you.

“Were you guys trying to get us to make up or something?” Jake asked with an amused smile.

“Yeah, we grouped up and planned this whole thing. It was a real team effort.”

“It might’ve worked better if you hadn’t all stayed here, you guys were so obvious,” you chided.

“Tell that to your friends over there! They insisted on watching it unfold,” Jay grumbled, and you looked behind him to see your friends frantically waving at you.

You switched to a bigger booth that could accommodate all seven of you, and as soon as you’d placed your orders, Yena practically pounced on you, demanding an explanation as to how the two of you were already made up.

You turned to look at Jake and smiled at him before answering. “It’s all thanks to Kiwi, really,” you told Yena.

“Kiwi? As in your dog Kiwi?” Chaewon asked with furrowed eyebrows.

“Mh-hm.” In your peripheral, you noticed Jake tilting his head at you.

“You mean Layla, right?”

You imitated his head movement. “No, I mean Kiwi.”

“But Layla made me go to the park today. I wouldn’t have gone there if it wasn’t for her,” Jake insisted, giving you an are you being serious look that you mirrored.

“I wasn’t going to go outside at all but Kiwi kept bugging me to take him on a walk, that’s why I was in the park in the first place. It’s thanks to Kiwi,” you repeated.

“It’s thanks to Layla,” Jake retorted, playfully narrowing his eyes at you.

“Trouble in paradise,” Jaemin whispered, and Hyewon slapped his arm.

The whole table was silent as you and Jake stared each other down, waiting to see who would cave first. It was like everyone could breathe again when Jake’s face broke out into a grin and he rested his arm behind your shoulders. “Okay, it’s thanks to Kiwi,” he conceded, making you hum in satisfaction. You rested your head on his shoulder and ignored Yena’s groan of disgust at the PDA.

But Jake, as always, wasn’t letting you off the hook so easily. “And Layla.”

—

02.06.202X - 12:18

rodrigo hater y/n i can see you being gross from across the courtyard can u guys not feed each other ur still on school grounds and ur ruining my day have some decency

sweet hyewon you guys are super cute <3  jaemin and i only have the same lunch period once a week i miss him

rodrigo hater ugh wheres chaewon she’d have my back

you hyewon love u yena frigg off you’re not going to like this… i think she’s with sunghoon rodrigo hater WHAT

sweet hyewon omg hahahaha saw it coming cuuuuute

rodrigo hater i hate you all so much you’re all kicked out of my celibacy club

chae bae we weren’t part of it in the first place

rodrigo hater GO AWAY YOU TRAITOR

03.06.202X - 09:15

you jake wake up  wake up wake up please

jake ??? R U okay?

you kiwi keeps whining i think he wants to see layla come over?

jake . did u just wake me up before 10 am on a sunday morning for this

you i made pancakes?

jake i’m going back to sleep

you but i miss you :(

jake running

07.06.202X - 16:39

stink #1 hey

jake no

stink #1 wtf man

jake im busy

stink #1 smooching ur girl?

jake yeah stay mad bro

stink #1 where’s hoon

stink #2 he’s at ice skating practice with me <3 this is chaewon btw

jake AYO????

stink #1 HE GAVE YOU ACCESS TO HIS PHONE???

stink #2 hehehe bye losers

stink #1 oh my god jake this is huge

jake right… our little boy he’s grown so much

stink #1 i’m getting teary eyed anyway i wanted to say i think we should invite the girls to bro night more often it’s always fun with them

jake oh? if u wanna see yena just say so bro

stink #1 fuck u man

jake ur literally so obvious you get 100% more obnoxious when she’s around

stink #1 idc she laughs at my jokes

jake which is proof that there’s something wrong w her anyway i’ll ask my girl about it

stink #1 ew and thx ^^

09.06.202X - 17:03

jakey-poo y/nnnnnn y/n hellloooooo y/n y/n y/n baby :(((( where are u what r u doing i miss you hello y/n my baby darling angel pls answer me layla misses you

you jake sim

jakey-poo HIIIIII

you jay is a genius i’m anime pomodoroing the hell out of this essay it’s working so well i’m almost done with it already

jakey-poo don’t compliment another man ever again i’m going to cry

you but jay’s your friend

jakey-poo i’ll kill him if i have to

you gosh okay jay’s an idiot

jakey-poo hahaha he is ice cream after dinner ???

you duh

31.07.202X - 21:03

jakey-poo i’m waiting for you outside the theater baby we have a lot of talking to do. i can’t believe you kissed someone else in front of me

you jake baby it was just acting <3 you know you’re the only one i really kiss

jakey-poo i know i am so come here and kiss me quick you did so well and you were so pretty on stage and i love you so much  COME QUICK I WANNA KISS YOU

you i’m hurrying i promise but a lot of people are trying to talk to me :(

jakey-poo ofc they are you killed it my baby’s already famous <3

you hehe love you my jakey-poo

jakey-poo STOP IT WITH THAT

permanent taglist: @zreamy @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts @moonlighthoon @4imhry @rikisly @loves0ft @iamliacamila @theboingsuckerasseater9000 @chaechae-23 (ask to be removed/added!)

© asahicore on Tumblr, 2023. please do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works. feedback and reblogs always appreciated!

[hayakawalove]

Why Don't We Try Something New?

Summary: Suguru and Satoru learn a secret you've been hiding. You aren't as pure as they thought you were.

A/N: Got nothing to say besides enjoy.

CW: Smut, Humor, Polyamory, Vaginal Sex, Anal Sex, Cunnilingus, Rimming, Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Nipple Play, Spit Kink, Choking, Slapping, Face Slapping, Butt Slapping, Spanking, Hair-pulling, Creampie, Dirty Talk, Name-Calling, Dacryphilia, Praise Kink, Humiliation, Degradation, Watching Porn, Top Suguru, Top Gojo, AFAB Reader, Female Reader

W/C: 5,830

Credit to @benkeibear for the banner

God, you were so bored. 

Bored was an understatement. You were basically lifeless. The house was big and lonely without the two boys. The both of them had gone on a trip, one they begged you to join, but you couldn’t; you had too much to do. They promised to call everyday, which they did, and you were glad they were having fun. But a part of you wished you did go. You tried not to listen to it. You ended up getting everything you needed done, at the expense of your sanity. The boys were supposed to be coming home anyway today, so you wouldn’t feel bored for much longer. They were supposed to arrive at 2 pm. Key word being “supposed” to. It was now 6 pm and there was no sign of them. Suguru called you to tell you that their ride was delayed, much to your dismay. You were trying not to count down the minutes until they showed. Surely it would be any second now, right? 

You slump at the kitchen table, idly flicking on your phone screen, your feed not interesting you today. The door creaking open jumpstarts your system, causing you to fly up from your seat. 

“We’re home!” Satoru’s jovial voice sounds out. 

You dart from the kitchen to the door and engulf him in a hug. His chest bounces with laughter as he rubs your back. 

“Bunny! I missed you. I even got you a souvenir!” 

“He ate it.” Suguru confesses Satoru’s sin, setting their bags on the ground. 

“Okay maybe I did. But it’s the thought that counts. I wouldn’t have eaten it if our ride wasn’t delayed. I was starving.” 

You pull away from Satoru and turn to Suguru, slamming yourself into him. He smiles softly at the action, keeping you tight against his chest. 

“I missed you princess.” He whispers the words like they were only meant for you to hear. 

You pull back and look up at them. The boys. Satoru’s hair was ruffled, probably from sleeping against a window if you had to guess. Suguru had bags under his eyes. He admitted to you once that he had a hard time sleeping when you and Satoru weren’t next to him. 

“Hungry? Or are you full after eating my souvenir?” 

Satoru gaps at you, starting to walk in your direction. You take off in a quick dash, running back to the kitchen. 

“I didn’t eat it!” Suguru calls out, pushing his hair back as he follows after the two of you. 

It appears that Satoru ended up catching you as he was sat at the table with you in his lap, his long arms keeping you hostage against him. You were trying to hold back a smile as you struggled in his arms. 

“Don’t pick battles you’re gonna lose bunny.” Satoru warns, not budging. 

After a couple of seconds you let yourself go limp, accepting your trapped fate. 

“Seriously though, are you guys hungry?” 

“Yeah. Food wasn’t that great there.” Suguru responds, sliding out the chair across from you and sitting down. 

They were gone for three days. An agonizing three days.  

“Okay. I can make something, you poor babies can rest.” You tease and pull Satoru’s ear. 

He clicks his tongue at you and tries pulling his head back. 

“I can help.” Suguru, ever the helpful one. 

“Yeah, make him do it so we can keep relaxing.” Satoru, ever the unhelpful one. 

“It’s okay. Although you can pull up the recipe on my phone. I wanna shower first and then I’ll get it started.” 

You pull out your phone and toss it to Suguru. There was a recipe in your recent tabs, one you had saved just for when they came home. 

He accepts it and watches as you pry yourself from Satoru. You pull Satoru’s ear one more time and lean down to kiss Suguru’s cheek. 

You tell them you’ll be quick before you’re off, making your way to the shower. 

“Should’ve offered to go with her.” Satoru sighs out. 

“You’re a pervert.” 

“Like you’re any better?” 

Suguru huffs out before swiping through your phone. He was curious what recipe it would be. He scrolls until he locates your internet app. 

“It’s so nice to be back. It feels like it’s been ages since we were home. Not that where we were staying wasn’t nice-“ Satoru rattles on. 

Suguru opens the app, his eyebrows flying up. All your recent searches were porn. Not the normal kind either. They were all kinky. 

He didn’t care that you watched it, and knew Satoru wouldn’t either. The type just surprised him. 

“What?” Satoru asks, noticing Suguru’s face. 

He gets up from his seat and walks over to Suguru, leaning over his back to see what he was looking at. 

Fuck. 

“What’s she doing watching those?” The tone Satoru had was not one of anger, but one more of curiosity. 

“I don’t know.” Suguru mumbles, clicking the first one he saw. 

A video pulls up. It’s of a woman with a tear stricken face. She was standing up, shaky as a man tossed her around. He smacked her face, pulled her hair, and had a hand wrapped around her throat. 

Satoru’s and Suguru’s pants began to get uncomfortably tight as they watched the scene unfold. You never had sex like this. It wasn’t like your sex life was boring. You all had fun together, but the way you fucked tended to be more lighthearted and on the safer side. 

You were interested in this? 

It was making their cocks unreasonably hard. 

“Why hasn’t she asked to try that with us?” Satoru asks. 

“I don’t know.” 

“Should we ask?”

“I don’t know.” 

Suguru taps out of the video, ignoring all the other searches while trying to locate the recipe. It looked obscenely normal in the midst of all the degeneracy. Suguru slides the phone on the table before the sound of the shower turning off snaps him back to reality. 

Satoru sits next to Suguru, his fingers twitching with the need to see what else you were watching. 

You slide on a tank top and shorts, getting ready as quickly as possible so you could meet them again. The boys were being suspiciously quiet. They probably just passed out. 

You walk back out to the kitchen where the both of them were sitting. Suguru calls your name, looking up at you with an unreadable expression. 

“We need to talk.” He says. 

Your breathing falters while you look at them with confused eyes. 

“Is something wrong?” Your anxiety gets the best of you. 

You sit across from them, not noticing the way Satoru’s eyes carefully slide down your figure. 

“We saw what was on your phone.” Suguru starts. 

You watch them, waiting for Suguru to say more. 

“The recipe?” You ask. 

“The porn.” Satoru cuts right to the chase, he never was one to fuck around. 

Your eyes widen at the admission, heat instantly spreading to your cheeks. Did you forget to delete those? 

You had kept yourself busy while they were gone. It was hard going from sex all the time with two men to nothing at all. You got yourself off and watched videos, that wasn’t a crime was it? 

“I, uh,” you flounder. 

“It’s okay baby. We don’t care. But are you interested in that stuff?” Suguru eyes you, noticing how you dart your gaze between them. 

“Yes. I mean, I don’t know.” You admit, shoulders sagging. 

“You don’t have to be afraid. We aren’t gonna make fun of you.” Satoru traces one of his fingers on your hand. 

Both boys had thought about rougher sex before, but they never wanted to hurt you. In their eyes, you were a dainty flower that needed to be protected. 

Maybe you weren’t as delicate as they thought. 

“I do wanna try it. I just didn’t know how to say anything, it’s kinda weird right?” 

Suguru bites back at coo as you admit your fear. There was something endearing in the way you carried yourself. 

“We can try it. We should make rules though so everyone feels safe.” Suguru says. 

You swallow the spit that had collected in your mouth. Satoru’s lips were spread into a smile, Suguru’s expression matching his. 

“Are you sure? It’s okay if it freaked you out, I-“ 

Satoru barks out a laugh.

“Honey, you’re gonna have to do something a lot worse to freak us out.” He says with a glint in his eyes. 

Suguru looks over to him in agreement. 

“Okay. Let’s try it then.” 

You had talked about what you were comfortable doing with the both of them. They tried to hide the surprise on their faces while you explained your deepest darkest fantasies. They were never unsettled by what you were saying, they just had no idea you wanted to try any of it. By dinner time the conversation was over, the typical air settling amongst you. You almost felt like the conversation didn’t happen at all. 

~~~

Several days pass without incident. You were falling back into your normal routine, finding yourself much more at ease with them back. Your mind sometimes wandered back to the conversation, thinking about when it would happen. You were excited at the prospect of trying something new, feeling your heart race every time the thought crossed your mind. 

You turned off the sink once you were finished washing dishes, indulging yourself in the silence. 

A hand slides over your front, grabbing your neck. Your body jumps; you thought you were alone. 

“You’re cute when you’re scared.” Satoru’s deep voice fills your ears. 

His grip was slightly tight, your mind buzzing. It was happening. It was really happening. 

“I’m not scared.” Were you lying? You were unsure of the answer to that. 

“No? Maybe we should change that.” Satoru flips you around to face him. 

He smashes his lips against yours, teeth nipping your lips causing you to whine. His fingers were bruising you as they held you tight, his hand constricting your air flow. His other hand drags across your body, sliding up your shirt to pinch your nipple. Tongues slide across each other, your moans getting drowned out. 

“Get to the couch, now.” 

His voice held no room for argument. You stumble forward, falling on the couch once you make it. You were about to ask Satoru where he was when you feel a hand wrap around your jaw, tilting your head back. 

You look up, a different figure behind you. Suguru stands behind the couch peering down at you. His eyes instantly put you in a trance. 

“You’re all worked up.” He observes, stroking the side of your face. 

You close your eyes at the feeling. His touch was much lighter than Satoru’s, it usually was, but you could feel the heavy weight that laced his words. There was fear in your veins, but you knew they would take care of you. They would never do something you didn’t want to do. 

You make a strangled noise, wondering what he would do next. The idea of him engaging in anything less than soft and careful left you confused. Imagining Satoru being rough with you was easy. Suguru on the other hand was much more meticulous and calculated, always treating your body like a monastery. 

Suguru keeps his hold on you, tilting your head from side to side as if he was scrutinizing you. 

“Open.” 

Your mouth drops open at the command, your tongue hanging out. Suguru doesn’t say anything else before he leans down, letting a drop of spit fall into your mouth. Your core clenches once it hits your tongue. You swallow it and pop your mouth back open. 

“You don’t even need to be trained. How impressive.” 

You wince. Seeing this side of Suguru was turning you on faster than you were expecting it to. 

“I leave for less than a minute.” Satoru murmurs, eyeing the two of you. 

His eyes were blue and cold as they watch you. Suguru’s hand releases your jaw as you look back at Satoru, eager for more. 

“On your knees facing Suguru.” 

You fumble, turning around to grab the back of the couch while you face Suguru. Even like this he was much taller than you. His hair was pulled back in a bun, somehow making him look much more stern and less soft compared to when the locks flowed down his back. 

You were hoping for some kind of praise like Suguru gave you, although there was something condescending in the way he said it, but Satoru offered nothing. Somehow the anticipation was eating you up, making your body crave more. 

Satoru’s hand roams across your perched ass, thinking of all the ways he wanted to ruin you. All he could think about was how much fun you were going to have, and how he and Suguru were gonna be the ones to cause it. 

A sound rings out and only after several seconds do you register it was Satoru slapping your ass. You’re about to turn your head to look at him when you feel another slap, much harder than the first. You let out a moan, feeling pain begin to bloom across your ass. 

“Keep your eyes on Suguru. Think you can do that?” He asks, voice mocking. 

You hum in agreement, staring up at Suguru. 

“Give me a real answer.” 

Your butt wiggles at the harshness of his words. 

“Yes sir.” 

The room silences, while the two men look at each other. 

Had you said something wrong? 

“You’re unbelievable.” Satoru murmurs, slapping you again. 

You moan and tighten your grip on the back of the couch. Your teeth dig in your bottom lip at the pain. 

“Here we are thinking you’re this well behaved girl, content with missionary and eye contact, when really you’ve been wanting something this dirty all along? Ready to call me sir at the drop of a hat?” 

Slap. 

“Give me a break.” 

Slap.

You moan loud again, bottom lip trembling as you keep your gaze locked on Suguru. 

“Gentle, Satoru.” He chides the other man. 

“No. This is what she wanted. So this is what she’s getting.” 

Satoru hits you again, your ass quickly becoming sore and sensitive. You groan, your body doubling forward. Your head hangs between your shoulder blades, panting heavily as you try to resist the tears. 

Satoru grips your hair, yanking it back so you’re forced to look at Suguru again. 

“What did I say?” Satoru speaks through tight lips.

“I’m sorry, Sir.” 

Suguru reaches a hand up to grasp your cheek. His cock stirs at the expression you’re making. Pain and pleasure painted on your face. 

“I know, he’s really mean huh?” Suguru asks, keeping his hand light and gentle. 

You stifle a sob and nod, trembling against him. 

“My poor girl.” Suguru pushes his thumb on your lip, parting your lips so it can rest on your tongue. 

Satoru chuckles to himself at the scene unfolding in front of him. Of course Suguru would act like the hero coming to save you. Satoru had no idea you were this ignorant. If you thought Satoru was bad, you had no idea what Suguru was going to be like. Satoru almost felt bad. You really weren’t going to have a break between either of them. 

Satoru pulls your pants down and admires your ass, his hand gracing over the sensitive skin. He wondered how you looked this good. Satoru drags down your underwear, pulling both pieces of clothing off your body. 

“I can’t believe it. Crying to Suguru like you’re the victim when you’re fucking soaking.” 

He drags his fingers across your slit, and you whimper at the feeling. He watches your hole clench when he grazes your clit. 

He leans over your back, pressing his chest against you. It made you realize just how big he was. It’s not like you ever forgot, but there were moments when the size difference was shoved in your face. It made a drop of dread spread throughout your body. You really were at the mercy of both of them. 

Satoru holds his fingers in front of Suguru. The other man sticks out a tongue, slowly trailing it up Satoru’s finger. Satoru has to suppress a shiver, gaze locked on the way Suguru cleans him. 

“Satoru’s right baby, you really are filthy.” 

Satoru steps back and slaps your ass again, appreciating how it bounces back. He repeats the action. He notices drool seep from your pussy, making him wonder if he was going to have to deep clean the couch after this. 

Your mind feels hazy as you look up at Suguru, the contours of his face becoming blurry between your tears. 

“Let's move this to the bedroom, Suguru.”

Suguru hums in agreement, pulling his thumb from your lips. You whine at the loss, instantly missing the way he filled your mouth. He walks around the couch and pulls you back, sliding his arms around you to carry you to the bedroom. 

“Don’t you think you baby her too hard?” Satoru asks, following the both of you to the bedroom. 

“But she is a baby, Satoru.” 

You sniffle, burying your face into his neck. His skin feels cool against the heat of your face. His fingers strum against your shoulders and tighten under your knees before he sets you down on the bed. 

“Besides, she’ll need someone to baby her after we’re through.” 

The threat seeps into your bones, making the hair on your arms stand on edge. You had no idea who these boys were. They weren’t your kind and soft boys. No, they were scary. 

And fuck, did it make you wet. 

They stand in front of you, looking down their noses at the sorry sight in front of them. You hiss at your exposed ass against the sheets. When would you be able to sit normally again? Satoru really did a number on you, and they weren’t even done yet. 

“Put that mouth to good use, yeah?” Satoru says, pulling his shirt over his head. 

You try not to ogle at the sight but damn, it was hard not to. His exposed chest ran shock waves through your system every time. Pale skin with toned abs. His stomach flexes as he tosses the shirt aside. 

He works on unbuttoning his pants as Suguru takes his shirt off, kneeling on the bed to help you pull yours over your head. 

“How you feeling baby?” Suguru asks, cupping your face when you’re fully naked. 

“Good, so good, want it rougher.” You were too needy to feel embarrassed. 

“Is that so?” 

Suguru pulls back, staring at you as he unbuckles his pants. You whimper when their cocks jump out, already hard. Their leaky tips stood at attention, facing you. 

It was always hard to suck them off. They were large. Your throat remembers the shape of them for days after whenever you give them head. Satoru bought you a bag of cough drops once just to tease you. You didn’t need him to know that you did end up taking them, and they did soothe your throat. 

You reach out a hand before Satoru smacks it away. 

“No hands.” 

You wince and scoot forward, looking up at Satoru as you take the head of his cock into your mouth. He lets out a sigh of relief the second your warmth envelops him. Salty residue falls on your tongue as you swallow more of him, feeling your throat begin to stretch at the size. He holds the back of your head, moans freely falling from his lips. You loved a lot of things about Satoru. One of those things was the fact he never held back in bed. 

“T-that’s it. Just like that bunny.” 

You push yourself down until you reach his pubic bone. It was nearly impossible to breathe, your hands floundering trying to ground yourself. Satoru pumps inside your mouth a couple times before pulling out, groaning at the sight of your spit hanging off his cock. 

Suguru leans in, brushing his cock against your lips. You sputter for a bit, trying to reclaim the lost air before looking up at Suguru. You stare at him as you take his cock in your mouth, sliding down until you start to choke. Every time you suck Suguru’s cock, you almost feel ashamed. His eyes were always trained on you, it felt as though he was grading you. You could never tell if you were doing a good job. 

You muffle a moan as you slide your tongue up and down his cock, more than eager to make him proud. Satoru must be getting antsy because he pulls your hair back, directing you to his cock. You go back and forth, sucking one cock before going to the other. 

“So talented.” Satoru mocks, watching as you work them both up with only your mouth. 

You were getting dizzy now. It was hard to tell if it was because of the lack of oxygen or because of how needy you were getting. 

Tears run freely down your face as you choke on Suguru, having a hard time taking him fully down your throat as you were starting to get sore. 

“Oh come on, you can do better than that. Let me show you.” Satoru puts a hand on the back of your head, forcing you all the way down Suguru’s cock. 

“S-shit.” Suguru groans, throwing his head back. 

He was getting riled up quicker than normal today, the idea of having their own personal slut getting to him. 

“Just gotta be mean with her. It’s the only way she’ll learn. It’s not her fault she doesn’t have much going on up there.” Satoru pulls your head back before shoving it back down. 

Your eyes fly open, desperate for a break. Being treated like this was making your hole clench, pussy leaking on the bed. You reach down and dip one finger across your clit, moaning at the sensation. Usually the men were quick to take care of you, your body was feeling neglected at the loss of their touch. 

Satoru rips you off Suguru’s cock, sneering at you. 

“Who said you could do that?” He asks. 

You cough, looking back up at him. 

“Someone’s gotta do it.” You feel the need to test him, if only to see how far he would go. 

“Yeah? You think someone has to do it? You think that’s what you’re owed?” His voice takes on a chilling tone, quickly making you regret your decision. 

You decide to try sticking to your guns. You straighten your shoulders and refuse to look away. 

“Let’s get one thing clear. You are not owed anything. If you cum, it’s because we say it’s okay. If you get touched, it’s because we allow it.” 

“Really?” You say. 

Satoru’s face cracks into a terrifying smile, the corner of his lips pulled up while his tongue runs across his teeth. Something deep rooted in your body alerts you, danger, danger, warning you to slowly back away before he bites. 

“So cute that you’re holding out baby, it’s admirable.” Suguru sighs, “it’ll make it all the more validating when you regret it.” 

Your body was trembling, begging for more. Did they know what they were doing to you? By the look on their faces, they must. 

“Since she wants to be touched, why don’t we give her that, Satoru?” 

Satoru agrees, knowing Suguru must have something planned. He was honestly kind of scared for you. 

“Up.” Suguru helps you stand, bringing you where he was. 

“I got her front, you got her back.” Suguru says. 

He sinks to his knees in front of you, wrapping his hands around your waist. Satoru sits on the bed behind you, running his hands up your back, before gliding them back down to your ass. He pulls your cheeks apart and looks at your asshole, begging to be touched. 

Suguru looks up at you as he lets his tongue hang out, swiping it against your throbbing clit. Relief washes over you, it felt so good you had to resist grinding against his face. Satoru dives in, licking across your other tight hole, relishing in the moan you let out. 

The two boys are in sync as they pleasure you. Their warm breaths pound against you as they eat you out from both sides, strong hands holding you up as you sway. The pleasure was overwhelming, your moans becoming erratic. 

Suguru swirls his tongue around your clit, feeling it twitch in his mouth. How long were you going to hold out for? 

Your pussy throbs in neglect, begging to be stimulated along with your clit and asshole. 

Your skin burns in pain as Satoru holds you open, not caring for the way it hurts you when he touches your bruised ass, your bruised ass that he caused. 

He rubs his tongue back and forth across your tight hole, groaning at the way it clenches under his mouth. 

Suguru doesn’t have to watch the way your expression changes to know you were on the edge. He’s fucked you enough to know when you were going to cum. 

He pulls away before you can fall off the edge, peering up to look at your frustrated face. 

Satoru pulls back shortly after, eyes laser focused on your ass. 

“Think she’s allowed to cum yet?” Suguru asks. 

“No, not yet.” Satoru responds. 

He rubs a thumb across your asshole, cock leaking as he hears you gasp.  

They wait until you aren’t close to cumming anymore before they dive back in, mouths attacking you. If you try to lean back to escape Suguru’s tongue, it only forces Satoru against you more, and vice versa. Waves of pleasure shock through your system, but it was almost too much. 

You don’t know where to put your hands, so you settle them against Suguru’s shoulders, fists clenched in response. 

Close, close, close. 

In seconds Suguru is pulling back, Satoru following suit. 

“Is she allowed yet?” Suguru asks, although he already knows the answer. 

“Hell no.” Satoru says. 

“Why not?” You complain, frustrated at the high that was torn from you. 

“You just don’t get it, do you? Even though Satoru so kindly explained it to you.” 

Your stomach drops at the shift in Suguru’s voice. 

“Every orgasm, every tear, every moan, belongs to us.” He completes.

Suguru drags his tongue up your clit, your moans pouring out. Satoru dips his tongue in your hole before trailing across it. 

It was getting hard to think straight with the amount of times they brought you close. Torture, it was torture. How could they make you feel so good but not allow you to succumb to it? 

Your voice is hoarse as you moan. Suguru attaches his lips around your clit, lightly sucking as you rock back and forth. Maybe he would let you cum now. 

“I, I,” you try to speak, your mind failing you. 

Satoru understands Suguru immediately, licking you fast. It crashes over you, you finally cum against their mouths, your moaning cascading down to their ears. It hits you harder than it has in awhile, temporarily blinding you as you shake. 

“Not so bad, was it?” Suguru asks, rubbing your waist. 

You want to crumble to the floor to take a break, but you have a sneaking suspicion they won’t let you. You try to squirm away but their grip remains steady. 

“Oh no princess, you don’t think you’re done yet, do you?” Suguru’s voice sounds patronizing. 

He stands up, dragging his fingers through your slit. It makes you wince, your body much too sensitive still. What else were they planning on doing with you? Could you even handle it? 

Suguru pulls his hand from you, shoving his middle and ring finger in your mouth. 

“Go on, taste yourself.” You choke on his fingers, your cum melting on your tastebuds. 

“So fucking nasty, all because we’re treating you like an object. It’s embarrassing.” He tells you, his eyes focused on the way your tongue cleans his finger. 

He takes his fingers out, allowing you brief reprieve. You were so far gone already and you hadn’t been fucked yet. The sight of you was going to drive him crazy. 

“Kneel on the bed. Since you wanted to be treated like a whore, we’re going to fuck you like a whore.” Suguru says. 

You tremble as you turn around to crawl on the bed. Your kneels settle down as you sigh in relief. At least your ass would get a break. You’re too dazed and confused to notice the both of them kneeling on the bed, situating themselves. Suguru sits in front with Satoru behind. Suguru grabs his cock and drags it up your pussy before sliding inside, your walls hugging him. 

He lets out a ragged breath as he pushes all the way in, holding you steady. You fall forward against him, whimpers escaping your lips as his cock stretches you. Even though he was being rough with you, you could still find solace in the way his arms held you, soft hands keeping you still. 

Satoru spits on his hand, bringing it down to rub his cock. It felt good to finally be touched again, but he knew your ass would feel so much better. He holds you open and guides himself to your hole, letting his tip slip inside. 

It was a tight fit. 

Made even tighter with the way Suguru was filling your other hole up. Satoru’s mouth drops open as he watches his cock disappear into your ass, your tight hole clinging to him. 

“So full, I’m so full.” You blabber against Suguru. 

He lets go of you, but you don’t wobble too much as you’re trapped between their chests. It was hard to catch your breath, their cocks reaching to the deepest parts of you. 

Suguru’s the first to move as he pulls back, slamming his cock in again. Satoru allows Suguru to go ahead as he revels in the feeling of his cock through the thin wall separating the two. 

You let out a strangled moan, suddenly feeling claustrophobic. It was nice. Satoru drags his cock out slowly before building up speed, beginning to fuck you. 

Your walls were so sensitive, being forced open each time they plunged into you. The position you were in made it easy for Suguru’s cock to drag along your gspot, and Suguru made good use of that. 

You loll your head about as they fuck you, each time they shoved themselves in you you became less coherent. 

“That’s it, just needed to be fucked like a slut huh?” Satoru whispers in your ear, slamming into your ass. 

“It’s-it’s too much!” You moan out. 

Tears from the overstimulation pour from your eyes, sliding down your cheeks. 

“Yeah? It’s too much?” Suguru asks. 

You nod and sob, another groan falling from your lips. 

Just a little further, he wants to push you a little further. 

Suguru raises a hand and slaps your cheek, clenching his teeth when he feels you pulsate against him. 

“You shouldn’t start battles you’re not gonna win, princess.” Suguru imitates Satoru from earlier. 

He shoves his cock in you at a faster pace, slapping you once more. 

Your eyes roll back in your head, the pain making your pussy clench. 

“Give me a break, you like this shit.” Satoru says, moaning each time your ass tightens up. 

“I do, I do.” You don’t even know what you’re saying, letting your mouth move without much thought. 

Satoru reaches a hand around you, fingers brushing against your clit before he applies more pressure. He presses against it, letting his fingers swirl around your sensitive nub. 

Everything felt so good. The way they were stretching you, the way your clit throbbed underneath Satoru. 

Suguru reaches up and wraps a hand around your throat, squeezing slightly. Your toes curl at the action, the lack of air heightening your senses even more. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum.” You cry. 

Your eyes squeeze shut, your body bracing for the high. 

His eyebrows pinch together as he slams into you, feeling his release approaching as well. 

Your moans come out broken at the restriction of his hand. Satoru increases his speed on your clit, needing to feel you cum on his cock. 

“Look at me, look at me.” Suguru orders. 

You peel your eyes open to stare at him, letting drool begin to build up in the corner of your lips. Your mouth opens in a silent scream, eyebrows shooting up as you start to cum, clenching around each of their cocks. 

“Yeah, that’s right, keep your eyes on me princess.” Suguru’s words sound breathless. 

Satoru doesn’t let up on your clit, continuing his ministrations as he fucks your ass. He knew Suguru was close, he could feel it in the way his pace had become erratic. 

“Thank you, thank you.” Your voice comes out softer, chanting while you cum. 

Suguru lets out a groan, his cock shooting out cum into your inviting pussy. He keeps his hand on your throat the whole time, only loosening it once he finishes cumming. 

Your eyes look far away as Satoru continues to fuck you, his high coming up. It only takes a couple more thrusts before he moans, his cum filling up your ass. 

The room is filled with weak attempts to catch your breaths, body’s smooshing together. Suguru pulls away, his cock slipping from your sensitive hole. You pout at the loss, almost falling forward until Satoru catches you, keeping you pressed against his chest. 

The weight of Satoru crushing you against him was comforting. His cock softens in your ass, waiting as Suguru grabs a towel and comes back, cleaning you up. 

Once he was finished, he passes the cloth to Satoru, who quickly places it against your ass when he slides out, catching the cum leaking from you. 

He tosses the cloth aside, gliding his hands up your sides while Suguru presses kisses all over your face. 

“You did so good for us.” Suguru murmurs, eyes full of love as he looks at you. 

“So perfect, always perfect.” Satoru says, pressing a kiss on your shoulders. 

“It felt so good, you made me feel so good.” Your mind is static, your body recovering from the session. 

“Yeah?” Suguru asks, finding comfort in the way you speak. 

He was worried that he and Satoru went too hard on you. They didn’t really want to break you. He lays you down on the bed, following after you and holds you tight. His heart clenches at the smile that lights up your features. Satoru slides down as well, eyes flicking down to your face before looking up at Suguru. 

“Let’s sleep for a bit, okay?” You ask, voice already sounding distant. 

“Anything for you, princess.” 

Tag List: @tojislittleprincesss @dinolvrrr

If you want to be added to the taglist let me know.

[stanurines1mp]

Until We're Satisfied

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Fem!Zenin!Reader (she/her)

type: angst + smut

an: pt 2 of Summer Nights based on this. lord this is my first smut that i have the courage to post bcoz my bsf told me to. its probably shitty and kinda rushed in the end but tbf i wrote it while i was battling my demons (sleep and period cramps). anyways, pls lemme know how it is. 

warnings: a little bit of angst, smut, handjob (m!receiving), gojo eating you out (self-indulgent to the core), praise kink if you squint, gojo is desperate and so are you, slightly possessive gojo, spit kink (lord help me), forbidden love, slight hair pulling (self-indulgent pt2), gojo is a tease and so are you, switch!gojo, body worshipping, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, i think that's it? have fun ig

Part one

~~~

You both headed back to the hotel, ready to pack your things and go home but your tracks were frozen in place as your hands flew to cover your ears, a ringing pain appearing.

This wasn't anything new to you.

When you finally had to use your technique and go all out after months of not using it, your ears would feel a sort of shrill and your head would hurt, feeling like it could burst at any given moment but it never does.

Although you were used to this, Satoru never knew this consequence of yours. Almost immediately, his arms went to you, trying to keep you steady when you bunch over your stomach and holding your head in pain.

"Are you okay? What's going on?" He asked, worried that maybe you had been hit by one of the Curse User's techniques without either one of you realizing it.

"I'm fine," you dismissed with a simple wave, recollecting yourself to stand up straight and fight the pain. "I just need to get my meds in my bag at the hotel."

Your words held no intended urgency but apparently to Satoru, that was all that mattered. To get you back to the hotel room.

In all honesty, he had no idea what was going on. But he was not about to take any risks as he wrapped an arm around you and warped you both back to the room.

Suddenly, your eyes were blinking in the view of the bedroom, eyes twitching to adjust to the lighting but the pain in your head was a step ahead of you, not even allowing any adjustment as your eyes screwed shut in pain.

"God, Satoru, why the fuck did you warp us?" You almost screamed, scrambling to find your bag by the couch.

Satoru's eyes widened, overpowered by guilt. "You said you needed to get your meds here!" He replied with just the same amount of defense as the frustration in your voice.

He stood frozen in fear, unsure of what to do as he watched you scrimmage your bag, creating a mess on the floor but you hadn't got enough to care for it at the moment.

He saw you holding a bag that contained a few boards of pills, all of them a different type. Taking out two pills of different kinds, you popped each of them into your mouth, swallowing them down your dry throat.

There was a lingering sting in the back of your throat, causing you to wince.

You tried to stand up, but your body was weak and threatened to fall. Satoru rushed right next to you, one hand holding your back and one hand holding your stomach, helping you to keep upright.

"Woah, are you okay?" His voice was low against your ear, somehow a comfort to your searing pain.

"Yeah, just need to lie down for a sec," you nodded, arms reaching forward to the bed.

You tried to walk but really, you were closer to falling to your knees than you were to walking.

And Satoru noticed that.

Stopping you, he instead scooped you into his arms and walked over to the bed. Even though the walk was short, you let your head rest on his shoulder, eyes closing while the pain in your head throbbed endlessly.

He gently laid you on the bed, right on your back. Your head immediately settled into the soft pillow while your hand reached out to tug at his wrist.

"Water- Please," your voice choked out in a small cry and Satoru just about dashed to the pantry to get two bottled water, just in case.

He placed one on the nightstand next to you while he helped open the other and handed it to you. You took it gratefully, murmuring a jumbled 'Thank you' before downing the beverage. 

A soft sigh of relief escaped you once you stopped drinking and Satoru took the bottle from you to help close it, placing it next to you on the nightstand. He was scared and clueless, standing so awkwardly still to assist you with any wish of yours.

"Chocolates," you coughed, pointing to your bag on the floor by the couch.

"What?" He asked with a scrunched face, not noticing your gesture.

"In my bag, there should be a small jar of chocolates," you managed to say smoothly, the water and medicine taking effects. "Can you help get them?"

"Of course, princess," he mumbles before almost diving into the floor due to his speed and managing to fish out the very thing you wanted.

He gave it to you after taking off the lid of the jar, the smell of milk chocolate with almonds filling the space between both of you. 

"Thanks," you pursed your lips and took a small square of chocolate to bite into. "You can take some if you want," your words were smooth but the pain was still heavy in your mind. You noticed Satoru's hesitance as he eyes the chocolate then you then back to the chocolate. "Don't worry, they're not magic chocolates or whatever."

His lips tugged in a small smile as he helped himself to a square before taking a seat by the edge of the bed, right next to your stretched-out legs. 

His eyes remained on you even while he took the chocolate into his mouth, watching the way your eyes were fluttering to suppress the pain in your head but you did seem much better now.

"So, are you gonna tell what the fuck that was?" He finally voiced out, licking his lips for a hint of chocolate residuals.

The tone he used shocked you but it also amused you, causing you to let out a small giggle. 

And oh, how for once Satoru thought he was actually useful if he could have made you let out such a beautiful harmony.

Your giggles settled into a gentle smile as you pushed yourself upright with your palms on the bed. "You know my technique, right?" You asked with a raised brow.

Know? 

Satoru might just have memorized every little thing about your technique. Or at least, every little thing about it that you've told him over the past few years of being together during occasional missions.

But he just nodded and allowed you to explain. 

"And you know that cursed energy has its own frequency too, right? Everyone's cursed energy has different frequencies," you said, earning a nod from him. "When I use my technique, it causes my cursed energy to lower. Like you, too," you paused before continuing, "And usually, it's fine. But when I use it a lot, especially after not using it for months like what happened today, I get these really bad migraines for about a day or two. It's like my body can't adjust to the low cursed energy."

Satoru nodded as he fathomed your explanation, the information he received was no doubt going to the little space in his memory reserved especially for you. 

"Wait, so, why were you angry that I warped us here?"

"Because the frequency of your cursed energy gets higher when you use it and it was very loud and it-"

"It was hurting you," he concluded, earning a slow nod from you. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," your shoulders shrugged. "I'm honestly used to this. I just have to take my meds, drink water, and eat something sweet. Chocolate usually helps," you added, reaching forward to grab another chocolate square from him.

"Makes sense, chocolate helps with everything."

"Finally, something we can agree on," you laughed and Satoru thought that when people talked about angels singing, they must have meant your laugh.

Because that was truly all that he believed you were as his eyes were captivated by the way your shoulders shook in laughter. 

Really, if he was placed on this Earth solely to make you laugh, then so be it. He will fulfill his role to its fullest.

But he couldn't really do that, could he?

"Excuse me," he cleared his throat and placed the jar of chocolates on the nightstand before walking out of the room.

Your smile faded as quickly as he walked out and shut the door, leaving you frozen and clueless. You had no idea what just happened but your mind was too hazy and tired to think anything more, causing you to fall asleep.

Satoru only excused himself because he had to free himself of you. Of the way your hair fell so nicely over your shoulders even in such a state. Or the way your eyes crease slightly when you laugh. 

And don't even get him started on your laugh.

Any second longer in front of you and he would have kissed away all your troubles.

But he couldn't do that to you. 

He didn't want to put you in such a position.

Satoru was sitting in the lounge of the hotel lobby, his phone constantly by his ears as he waited for Ijichi to answer, wondering when it would be time for you and him to return home. 

But night was aging fast and you were still in a terrible state that he had given up on trying to find a way back home. 

That was, a way back home that wasn't you. 

Walking to the receptionist, Satoru confirmed with the man that he wanted to extend the stay yet another night. 

Once things were settled, and he was sure he could face you again without having the heavy urge to kiss you and hold you against him (though he wondered if that was even possible), he returned to the bedroom and saw that you were still fast asleep in your uniform on the bed. 

But his arrival had caused you to stir awake, being a light sleeper and all.

"What time are we leaving?" You mumbled, pushing yourself up by your elbows.

"Ijichi isn't answering. It's getting late and you clearly need more rest," he sighed, adding, "I've asked them to extend our stay another night."

"We're sleeping here again?" Your forehead creased with worry, watching him nod in confirmation. "Satoru," your voice trailed off, low and pleading.

His gaze met yours, blindfold off and staring right at you. He didn't have to ask you to know what you were thinking about. Looking away, his voice was quiet and laced with bitterness. 

"It won't happen again, I promise."

You took a deep breath and nodded, trusting him for all that he could give you before tossing away the blanket that covered your legs. 

"I'm gonna take a shower," you informed and took your clothes from last night before entering the toilet.

Satoru was seated on the edge of the bed, watching as you passed him by, your posture and the way you walked more stable than earlier. He washed over with relief, thankful that you were feeling better. 

Although you had assured him that you were used to feeling that way, he was still overwhelmed with worry. But all in all, he was just glad that you were okay. 

He heard the water begin to run but his mind was occupied by the sound of his phone ringing. Pulling it out of his pocket, he read the caller and answered it, informing Ijichi that he had decided to stay another night and have the manager come pick you both up tomorrow at noon. 

Eventually, you returned to the bedroom, your hair damp and the ends were held up by the small towel in your hands. You flashed Satoru a glance, feeling shy when you noticed how his eyes were in a trance, staring unashamedly at your figure.

"Stop staring, perv," you huffed, bending over to your bag to get your hairdryer out.

Your words brought him back, and he muttered a small apology before tearing his eyes away from you. 

But you really weren't making it easy. 

What's worse, he thought, was that you weren't even doing this on purpose yet he was already so desperate for you.

Just as you began drying your hair, Satoru got up abruptly to enter the shower but you paid him no mind. 

It didn't take too long for you to finish drying your hair but it certainly took Satoru quite some time in the shower, the sound of water running louder than you've ever heard since yesterday. 

You lay back on the bed, massaging your temples to relieve the surges of migraines that hit you. You didn't even realize it when Satoru finished showering, your eyes closed in peaceful slumber. 

His towel hung over his shoulder, the end of it moving as he took silent steps towards you. His lips curled in a gentle smile upon noticing the state of your slumber. Your lips were parted to elicit soft snores and he just thought that you looked absolutely adorable. 

Careful not to wake you, he brought the blanket up to your shoulders. He took his spot next to you, the bed sinking on his bed as his weight met the mattress. 

His gaze snapped to you quickly in panic, his head almost tore off but he relaxed when he noticed that you were not stirring awake. Perhaps the medication caused you to sleep soundly. Either way, Satoru let himself relax next to you, falling asleep on his own.

Your eyes shot open for a second before they closed in an attempt to relieve the surging headache that appeared. Fingers stretched out, you were struggling to find your phone but when you did, you checked to look at the time. 

It was only 11 but you knew you must have slept early and Satoru was softly breathing in his sleep next to you. You wanted to get up, stand, and walk to the bathroom to wash your face. 

But you had accidentally fallen, causing a loud thud, waking the white-haired sorcerer.

"Sorry, go back to sleep," you mumbled from the floor, waving a hand.

His eyes were droopy when he scooted to your side of the bed and stretched his neck out to see you on the floor. He raised a brow laced with confusion and amusement. "You okay down there, princess?"

"Fine," you pursed your lips.

"What are you doing?"

"I was trying to go to the bathroom," you answered lazily.

You pushed yourself up, holding onto the edge of the bed to lift yourself only to be barely an inch away from Satoru's complexion. His eyes were bright on yours, lips twitching to pursue yours against his but he decided against it. 

You sucked in a sharp breath, your eyes feeling hazy with the lack of oxygen that stood in the gap between you and your supposed enemy. 

Enemy? 

Or, was he more of a partner to you at this point? 

You pulled away, creating distance when you straightened your back. Satoru was left inhaling the residuals of your scent as you walked to the bathroom. 

Cold water splashed across the complexion of your face, bringing relief to the faint feeling of pain that had woken you up. When you returned to the bedroom, Satoru sat up straight so quickly, it was as if he was paying respect to an elder or something. 

His eyes were frowning, almost expectant but you ignored it to grab some pills from your bag. You sat on the bed and took your medicine with the water to help you swallow them easier.

"Go to sleep, Satoru," you sighed exasperatedly.

"I'm worried," he pouted and you could hear it in his voice.

"I'm fine," you rolled your eyes, settling your gaze on him. "Sleep."

He didn't budge and you rolled your eyes once again, climbing under the blanket that hugged your body softly. Your back was turned to him as if you were telling him that you were ready to return to sleep. 

You stayed that way for a few minutes, hoping that Satoru took it as a sign that he should sleep too. But he didn't. Because when you turned around to lie on your left side, your eyes were met with his that stared back at you.

"Why aren't you going to sleep?" Your voice was gentle and quiet.

"I can't go to sleep with you acting all weird," he shook his head but his movements were constricted by the pillow under his cheek.

A thankful beam adorned your lips while you spoke, "I'm fine, Satoru."

He wasn't sure if it was your smile or the way you said his name that caused him to reach out his hand, brushing a strand of hair to tuck it behind your ear. 

"You sure? You seem a little on edge," he hummed, the sound originating from his chest.

His thumb caressed your cheek, his movements causing your eyes to flutter shut as you nuzzled for the warmth he radiated. His body moved closer, his arms on your back to pull you in against him. 

Your head collided lightly with his chest, hands going to the shirt over his chest, and your palm splayed out. You felt his lips pressing against the top of your head, leaving you almost weak and helpless under his gentleness.

"We shouldn't do this," you whispered, your fingers fisting the fabric of his shirt.

"You say that but, you're holding onto me tighter," he murmured lazily, looking down while you looked up, locked on his intimidating blue eyes.

"You promised," your words were choked out unwillingly.

"Turns out I'm not good at keeping promises, princess," a small chuckle escaped him. "It's just you and me here," he assured, his fingers beginning to card through your hair, inching lower and lower to rest on your lower back.

You wondered if Satoru's blue eyes were truly his or just part of the Six Eyes. But it didn't matter. 

Because you were looking at him. Just as he was looking at you.

The air in between was heavy and hot and you knew it wasn't just the summer proving its presence. But it didn't matter. 

Because Satoru was leaning closer, his neck slightly craning down. Just as yours were tilted up.

There was a gap that acted as a wall of fire, the heat scorching and burning both your and Satoru's skin. 

But it seemed that the feelings you both held were much stronger, and the fire was no match for the inferno that itched within the depths of your hearts.

The gap soon burned into non-existence as Satoru pressed his lips against yours, his eyes closing in bliss. It was a soft kiss, chaste and innocent but was deepened by his hand that rested on your lower back. 

He pulled you closer against him, your face flushed with his, lips engulfing one another to merge as one. You relaxed, tightening your grasp on his shirt as you pulled yourself up, lips eagerly moving against his as your nose brushed with his. 

Satoru couldn't help it. 

A soft but muffled moan had escaped past his lips and entered straight through yours before he could stop himself. His hand that stilled on your back lowered itself on your body. 

He reached the dip on your body where your back meets your ass, lowering and lowering his fingers down to your ass and he gave it a gentle squeeze. In turn, your lips were parted in a gasp at his touch, allowing his tongue to find purchase within the cavern of your mouth. 

Running down your thigh, his hand slowly pulled your leg to have it weigh on him by his waist before his fingers continued to massage the skin of your thighs softly.

"Satoru, wait," you whispered in between kisses, your words taken in by his tongue. "Wait," you repeated, more firmly this time.

His hand stopped its movements, his lips going slack to pull away as his eyes scrunched with worry and hesitance. His chest rose under your grasp, up and down as he breathed heavily with desire.

"We can't," your voice trailed, your eyes closing as a tear fell onto your cheek. "You know we shouldn't do this."

A sigh slipped past his lips, his heart aching with each beat that it took. His hand that wasn't on your thigh rested on your cheek, his thumb wiping away the stain of the single tear that fell. He leaned in and kissed the small area of your skin, the taste of your tear meeting his lips.

He gently nudged your head to rest under his chin, his lips pressing a sweet kiss atop your hair. He was gentle even as frustration and guilt colored his skin.

"I know, I know," he cooed into the strands of your hair.

"Why," you sobbed silently against his neck, your tears falling along his skin to his shirt. "Why does it have to be like this?"

He held you tighter against him like he was afraid any distance that would exist would multiply more and more and he would no longer be able to hold you. He was most afraid of that, he was sure.

"Because of our families, the danger that comes with being together when we live in this world of curses, and because," his voice trailed, cracked with emotions. "Because we're not supposed to love each other."

"And do you?" Your words were quick, rushed, and desperate to hear an answer that you hoped would match what you felt.

He slowly pulled away to lock his eyes with yours. 

"I've never known what love is, how it looked like, or smelled like, or sounded like," he whispered, low and quiet as he poured his barest thoughts. "I've searched for it night and day, and I was always clueless. I didn't know what was right. But I know now, I've known for a while. Love is," he paused, fingers going to cup your cheek. "Love smells like lavender and rosemary with hints of rose petals. Love sounds like the way you say my name, the way you laugh, and the way you are constantly nagging at me when you pretend to hate me. And most of all, I know that love looks like you."

Your lips allowed a light giggle to escape, bringing a genuine smile to Satoru's lips. "But we should hate each other, shouldn't we?"

A bitter laugh escaped Satoru, his arms tightening around you. 

"We should. We've always been told to, but we don't. That's the problem, right?" He hummed, a hand of his now on your lower back again. Slowly, he leaned into the crook of your neck, just the spot where your ear met your jawline, his voice speaking softly, "But how am I supposed to hate you when all I can think about is how much I want to be with you every day." A kiss was placed on your skin, "I want to wake up next to you," another kiss, lower on your neck this time, "Hear you laugh," another kiss, "Be the one to make you laugh. I can't stop thinking about how much I love you and how much I need you."

Tears leaked from your eyes, falling onto his white-colored hair but he didn't care. His head rested on your shoulder, the tip of his nose against the crook of your neck. 

But he pulled away before his cheek could leave a lingering warmth on your skin. Gaze locked onto you, blue eyes flickered to your lips as he leaned down again, his lips gentle on yours. 

It was sweet but there was no mistake that something much darker hid beneath the innocence of his action.

"Tell me to stop, and I'll stop," he murmured against your lips, panting slightly with the way your hand gripped his shoulder.

"Don't," you shook your head, eyes scrunched to allow your tears to escape. "Please don't stop."

It didn't take Satoru long at all, barely even half a second after your last word before he was back on your lips. 

Just like Satoru, you couldn't even let a second pass before kissing him back, your emotions uncovered with all that you could give him in that kiss.

"I love you," he whispered in between your lips, slightly muffled but with the lack of distance you two shared, it didn't matter.

A smile drew on your lips and he could feel it, he almost died. 

Not that he would have cared. 

If he were to die against you, lips attached to yours like magnets of opposite poles, he would die happy.

"I love you," you answered, chasing the taste of his feather-light lips on yours.

"I'll always love you," he assured, brushing the skin of his nose against yours in a small bump.

Pulling away, you dared not to remove your eye contact with him. "Even if one day my family tells me to kill you?" Your voice was shaky, reminded of such a dark possibility.

Satoru's eyes darkened, a sigh escaping as he rested his forehead against yours. 

"Even then, I'll still love you," he whispered to the air you both shared. "And I'll always hope that you'll choose me instead of them."

Maybe he was being selfish. 

But at this point, he already knew he was a selfish man. 

He allowed his desire and love for you to take you both this far. That was more than enough proof that Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer, the bearer of Six Eyes, was a selfish man.

"I don't know how," you sobbed softly.

"I know, princess, I know," he comforted with his thumb wiping away your tears before he peppered soft kisses on where your tears once stood. "I don't want you to have to choose, but-"

"But?"

"But if it comes down to it, I hope you'll choose me. I hope you'll choose us," he sighed, wanting to curse himself for being so goddamn honest even knowing that his honesty was just the words of a selfish man.

But Satoru Gojo was a selfish man.

Your eyes closed, and a sigh escaped you as you allowed yourself to lean into Satoru. Your lips met his and just as quickly, his lips engulfed yours. 

It was warm and welcoming, things you were never accustomed to up until now.

"I love you," he repeated, pulling away to kiss the corner of your mouth.

"We can't be together, Satoru," you sniffled as you let him kiss your skin.

"I know," he nodded, pulling you close against him. "But that doesn't change how I feel about you. I want you so bad it hurts," his voice cracked as his head fell slumped on your shoulder, finding security in the dip of your neck.

"Where, Satoru? Where does it hurt?" You whispered into his ear.

"Here," he answered, taking your wrist and resting your palm on his shirt, just above his heart. "Can you hear how my heart beats for you?"

You could hear it all, feel it all.

"I can make it hurt less," you suggested quietly.

"No," he said, fingers gripping your wrist tightly.

"Why not?"

"I want my heart to be honest when it comes to you. I want to let it beat for you as it does."

"Even if it hurts?" You asked gently.

"I want to hurt for you," he answered to the skin of your neck.

Your hands tugged on his shirt, trying to get his attention. His head tilted up, creating a little distance, one that he quite hated. 

But it didn't matter. 

Not when your lips found home on his, pushing into the kiss desperately. A muffled groan slipped past Satoru, his body arching into you to deepen the kiss. 

The kiss was no longer the kind you both had shared a few times over the course of the night. The hidden darkness had taken over, desire creating a mess of tongues clashing. 

He stole the opportunity the moment he was presented with it, his tongue entering your mouth to slide along yours and you almost couldn't help the way your lips hungrily sucked onto it, a silent whimper of yours hidden beneath the collision. 

One of your hands had found its way to the back of Satoru's head, fingers entangled in his white locks while your other hand was gripping onto his bicep as if it was a way to keep yourself grounded before losing truly to the desire that was quickly burning in your body. 

The way Satoru couldn't keep his hands still definitely hadn't helped your case. His touches were no longer feather-light, instead, they were hungry and rough as they roamed your back, your hip, your ass, and your thighs. 

At this point, he wasn't even just touching you but groping, giving your flesh squeezes here and there as he pleased. 

And oh God, was he pleased. 

He was drinking in everything about you. 

The soft whimpers of yours that he swallowed deliciously and the way your body would tense and relax over and over again with every move of his hand. Satoru was noting every little thing about you that he never could before. 

He was sure he had memorized your body now and he hadn't even done anything. 

But you weren't the only one falling victim to passion. Satoru was just as big of a mess as you were, groaning with every squeeze that he would give you. He was hopeless, truly lost to the way you were giving him all that he could ever dream of.

"I need you so bad," Satoru moaned against your lips and you let out a gasp, feeling the rough grip he held on your hip.

"Show me," you whispered against his lips, letting your noses brush teasingly.

His eyes widened at how easily you accepted it. Pulling back, his hands were shaky on your hip as his eyes contacted yours.

"Are you sure?" His voice was hoarse with desire, barely a whisper as if he was afraid. "I don't want to hurt you."

Your hand on his arms snaked to cup his jaw, your thumb gently tracing the skin under his eyes. "I trust you, Satoru."

He closed his eyes, leaning right into your touch as if it was home. And maybe, it was. 

Actually, Satoru was sure it was.

"But if it's too much, just tell me to stop, okay?" He assured gently.

"Okay," you nodded with a smile that he knew could have easily fished him out of darkness anytime he found his way in such a place.

With both of his hands on your hips, Satoru pulled you flush against him, lips meeting once again with an elevated taste of desire. You let him lift your leg to rest on his leg. 

Your palm was on his chest and you used it to push him to lie on his back against the mattress but you never once disconnected the mess that was created by your lips against his. 

Satoru gripped your hips tighter, holding you on him while he moved back so that he was sitting upright, his legs stretched out. You straddled his right leg, your fingers roaming his hair. 

Tugging on the ends of the white locks in an attempt to get his attention, Satoru groaned deeply, feeling his pants growing tighter. It was safe to say that this was the only time you had failed to get his attention. 

You tried to pull away from the kiss, needing a moment to breathe but Satoru's arms immediately wrapped your behind and his head followed you forward, desirous for the taste of your tongue. 

God, he had waited so long for this, not even knowing if it would ever come true. 

But there he sat, under you and he never thought he could ever be this happy. His hands were everywhere but they rested on the edge where your shirt ends.

"Take- Take this off," he gasped into your lips, a whine following him as he tugged the fabric.

He only pulled you away to roughly pull your shirt over your head, almost ripping it as he gleamed with impatience. The shirt was thrown somewhere on the floor but you couldn't find it in yourself to care. 

He was quick to have his lips on yours again for a few seconds before he leaned back, hastily taking off his shirt. The room was dark and it remained that way but the light that shone through the windows was enough for you to admire him. 

His body was showered with old scars, beautiful as they glimmered in the dark due to his sweat. You didn't have enough time before Satoru stole your view of his toned abdomen, his tongue already prodding for your lips to open.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he whimpered with his tongue deep in your mouth.

His right hand was steadily holding you on your lower back, his left hand flying up to your breasts, groping the flesh over your bra. His lips lowered to your jawline, peppering hungry kisses as they trailed down your neck. 

Soft whines escaped you, his lips on your neck driving you wild. He was relentless with every movement of his. 

His hand on your boobs was overwhelmingly rough. And the feeling of his soft lips was so contrasting with how mean he was biting your skin and licking over it to soothe. 

Your head tilted back, using your hand on the back of his head to keep him to the exposed skin on your neck. He was leaving marks but your mind was too hazy, feeling arousal begin to pool in your panties. 

You felt his hand on your back skilfully unclasped the hook of your bra, the piece of clothing now on the floor with your shirt (you assumed). Pushing you against him, your back arched slightly, almost screaming when his lips wrapped around your hardened nipple. 

His mouth was hot on your chest, moving from one tit to the other with extreme hunger. He moaned around the flesh, louder and getting more high-pitched with the way your fingers tugged on his hair to keep him sucking expertly on you. 

He was growing harder, his cock throbbing with every sound you made, a harmony of pleasure that he caused. 

Your hand wandered lower down his body, feeling the rough remnants of scars and you let your fingers trace over them longer, appreciating each and every one of them as you commit the picture to memory. 

Satoru felt his cheeks flushed with embarrassment and he hid in the crook of your neck.

"They're from old battles," he whispered in your ear softly.

You pulled away, seeing him colored by blood rushing under his skin. "You're so handsome, Satoru," you caressed his cheeks, encouraging him to look into your eyes.

"R-Really?" He gaped in wonder, his eyes scrunched with the need for your validation.

"You're the most handsome man I've ever seen, Satoru," you nodded, a soft smile drawn on your complexion.

You leaned forward and took his lips in between yours, cupping his jaw to keep him moving against you. Satoru's eyes rolled back, his hips bucking up in heat. 

His cheeks were hot, embarrassed by his own lack of self-control and he prayed that you hadn't noticed it. But of course you did. 

How could you not notice it when his hard bulge rubbed at the skin of your thigh? 

Your hands danced lower on his body, lower and lower until you reached his happy trail, the feeling of the soft hair tingling underneath your fingertips. You reached the hem of his pants, pulling it and slipping your hands past his boxers.

"F-Fuck," he moaned when he felt your fingers softly grazing his tip that leaked pre-cum. "Please," he croaked out, his voice hoarse and heavy with desire.

"Hmm?" You hummed teasingly against his lips before going to his neck, now exposed with his head tilted back.

You couldn't help but feel proud as you teased him, taking in the sight of his desperation. 

Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer, was quite literally crumbling in the palm of your hands. 

Your lips latched onto his skin, kissing, sucking, and biting down on his sensitive spots. Satoru cried out with a whimper, his hands on your waist now tightening as he felt every bit of your touch on him. His hips moved, seeking friction as he tried to fuck himself on your hands.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he repeated, his voice broken and desperate with your slow movements. "Touch me, please," he moaned, begging in desperation.

Your lips on his neck curved in a smirk, pleased with yourself at how well you've crumbled the man. Gently, your fingers wrapped around his dick and you could feel how girthy he was, still growing as he throbbed under your skin. 

His head fell to your shoulders, crying softly with his hips weakly chasing your hand. You set a steady pace for your hands, moving them up and down his cock, occasionally pumping his base and swiping the endlessly leaking pre on his slit. 

Satoru's hands could only rest on your back, fingernails digging crescents as he put up with the pace of your hands. But it wasn't enough, not at all.

By your ears, he pleaded, voice stuttering as he said, "M-More."

You nodded, heeding his wishes as you quickened your pace. Satoru showered your ear with the sounds of his pleasure, his hands now back to groping every part of your skin that he could. 

But his head stilled on your shoulder, his breathing becoming more shallow with each jerk of his hips. He was a man on a mission and his mission was to reach his release at the hands of you - quite literally. 

He needed more, not even caring about how fast he was approaching that high. His hand gripped one of yours on his cock, guiding your fingers to work faster on himself.

"Fuck, baby, just like that," he breathed heavily against your ears.

You could feel his dick twitching in your hands that were entangled with his very own. The pace he set with his hand on yours was rough and fast, you were beginning to lose it but his hand gripped yours tighter, fisting himself with your hands.

"I'm close," he moaned, low and slightly muffled with the skin of your shoulder pressing against his lips.

"It's okay, it's okay," you cooed softly, causing him to lean back.

In the darkness of the night, his eyes made contact with yours, noticing the red color that flushed your skin, undoubtedly matching his. Your lips were red and bitten and his heart swelled knowing that he had caused that.

"You can let go," you whispered, eyes boring into his.

Satoru nodded, his face inching closer to yours to pull you in a kiss. It was soft, quick, and gentle. 

Unlike the way he was helping you please him, passionate yet fast like he was racing against time. 

But he really was approaching his high and you took notes of the few things you noticed about him in such a vulnerable state. 

The way his cock twitched in your hand, his hips bucking and moving erratically, his breathing shallow as he panted endlessly and most of all, the way his eyes were screwed shut in bliss, his moans growing higher in notes that melodiously passed through your ears.

"Ah- ah- I'm-" His words were cut off by his own gasps of pleasure consuming him.

You felt the thick substance on your fingers when Satoru reached his high. His eyes were closed in bliss, the sight so beautiful and erotic, that you had it memorized freshly in your mind. 

His hand was slack against yours, leaving you the freedom to slow down the pace, helping him ride through his orgasm. His chest rose heavily, trying to regain his steady breathing.

"How does that feel?" You hummed, using his lack of focus to kiss his jawline, peppering sweet kisses all over his skin.

His eyes opened, heavily lidded, his pale skin now flushed and relaxed. "So good," he smiled, dropping his head to the crook of your neck, nuzzling into the warmth you provided.

"Good," you smiled, tufts of cloud-like hair rustling your lips as you stroked his hair gently.

Satoru gently guided your hands out of his pants and led them to his tongue, licking off all his essence that smeared your skin. You hummed appreciatively at his actions, eyes fluttering with love and all that you were.

"Thank you, princess," he murmured, earning a nod from you who was oblivious to the glint of mischief that drawled on his lips. "Let me repay you," he whispered.

He didn't give you a chance to question his words before using his hands on your hips to flip you. You were laid on your back as Satoru crawled onto you, his right hand roaming your skin while his left hand cupped your jaw. 

Sharing an ardent kiss, you whimpered at the feeling of his fingers toying with the hem of your shorts. He pulled away, lips now praying onto your skin as he left marks to scatter you. 

His fingers at your shorts were teasing and slow, agonizing as you closed your eyes. You felt him moving up, and your eyes met him immediately as he ghosted over your complexion.

"May I?" He giggled softly, tugging at your shorts. You nodded with consent but he shook his head with a smile, nudging the tip of his nose with yours. "Say it, baby."

"Yes," you breathed before leaning up to kiss him. "Please do."

He smirked against your lips, pulling away. 

He went to sit on his knees, both his hands by your sides, gently pulling off your shorts, and leaving you in your underwear. His smirk grew wider at the sight of the apparent wet spot that stained your undergarment. 

You propped yourself up by the elbows, watching as he teasingly brought your panties down to your ankles and through your feet. He dangled it in front of him, teasing you with slight hints of mockery and you rolled your eyes exasperatedly.

"Satoru!" You scolded with wide eyes as you watched him jumble the piece of fabric in his hand and keep it in the pocket of his pants.

"Relax, I'll buy more for you," he winked before returning his eyes to you.

Or rather, your pussy.

Glistening under the faint color of night, Satoru sat still with eyes of awe, he was sure there were hearts bulging in his eyes. He was quiet, only admiring his view that had caused his pants to tighten again.

"Wh-What are you doing?" You mumbled, shy and looking away with red cheeks as you closed your legs but were stopped by Satoru's hand in between.

"I'm admiring you," he said with a tut, gently spreading your legs. "You're just so fucking irresistible," he moaned, placing a kiss on your inner thigh once he lay on his stomach.

"Satoru," you breathed, letting your head fall on the pillow.

"I mean it, baby, you're so beautiful," he hummed against your pussy, his hot breath fanning the most sensitive parts of you. "The prettiest girl ever and this," he smiled, placing his lips to ghost over your entrance, "This is certainly the prettiest pussy I've ever seen."

"And how many have you seen?" You quirked a brow, a tinge of jealousy brewing under your skin.

"Does it matter?" He huffed with a slightly annoyed tone.

"I don't know," you mumbled.

His lips lifted in a playful smirk. He rested his head on his knuckles that were propped up by his elbows. His eyes flickered from your cunt and to your eyes, unsure of which part of you he wanted to see.

"Are you jealous, princess?" He purred mischievously.

"Shut up," you groaned, lifting yourself up by your elbows to glare at the man.

"Gladly," he murmured silently before using his hands to pull you into his face by the back of your thighs.

"Satoru!" You yelped, taken aback by the sudden way his tongue licked a long stripe along the lips of your pussy.

"My God, love, you taste so good," he moaned, the vibrations coursing through you.

He smirked against your cunt, pulling you flush against his as he prodded into you. His nose nudged your clit, causing you to close your eyes in bliss.

"Shit," you breathed out in a moan, your hand covering your mouth.

"Baby, what are you doing?" Satoru's voice was low, vibrating against your cunt and it caused you to clench on his finger.

"What?" You frowned, unable to think anything about how his fingers managed to reach you in the deepest parts.

"Let me hear you," he whined, almost childlike. "You sound pretty," his eyes gazed at you, round and desperate with his puppy eyes. "Tastes so good, too. Like heaven," he said, licking your essence that had dripped down his chin.

He wasn't lying. 

Satoru thought that if he were ever to get a taste of heaven, it would taste like you.

He returned his focus to your pussy when he noticed you heeding his wishes. His fingers left you only to be replaced by his tongue. 

And you never thought his tongue could actually pleasure you this much but there you were, moaning and whimpering as he started tongue-fucking you. His groans were heavy against your pussy, and you could feel it morph into building pleasure, your cunt clenching on his tongue. 

Your fingers gripped the sheets of the bed and Satoru noticed it from the corner of his eyes. Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he grabbed your wrist and brought it to his hair instead. 

You immediately pulled at his hair, the man now rolling his eyes with pleasurable pain. His fingers began toying with your clit but his movements soon quickened in pace.

"Oh my God," you cried, pulling his head further into your cunt.

Satoru used his left hand to lift your leg, throwing it over his shoulder to give himself more access to devour you. Your eyes were rolled to the back of your head, lost in the pleasure that Satoru was giving you.

"There, Satoru- Ngh, right there," you whimpered when his tongue reached that one spot inside you, feeling his flesh prod at it over and over again.

You felt the familiar build-up of pleasure all over your body. Satoru was working at you expertly, his fingers flicking at your clit with technique and skill.

"I'm- Fuck- 'm close," you whined, your breathing growing shallow as you gasped for air, desperately chasing your peak by grinding on Satoru's face.

"Go on, princess," he smiled with eagerness and awe. "On my mouth, come on," he giggled slightly, eyes blown open as he anticipated.

He didn't falter his movements at all, only adding the amount of aggression and speed. His eyes rolled in absolute bliss at the way your pussy clenched so tightly onto his tongue, refusing to let him go. 

He wondered how it would feel with his cock inside you. He groaned just thinking about it.

"Fuck," you moaned loudly, feeling your orgasm crash over your body.

Your body squirmed, your fingers still in his hair. Your hips slowed down but Satoru's tongue had not. 

He was drinking you up, staying true to his intentions. You could hear the wet sounds of Satoru slurping as he helped you through your orgasm. 

Your chest breathed heavily, trying to regain the senses that you had lost to the way Satoru had pleasured you on his tongue. Your eyes were hazy, watching as Satoru approached you. 

His skin glistened with your essence and you thought he looked so beautiful like that.

"Hi," you uttered breathily.

"Hi, love," he smiled gently, so sweet and lacking any hints of desire. "How do you feel?" He asked, his finger tracing your cheek and wiping away any tears of yours that had fallen.

"Feels good," you whispered softly.

"Great," he leaned in, kissing you and allowing you to taste yourself on him. "You're so perfect," he murmured, pulling away from the kiss. "Really, so gorgeous. And beautiful. And you taste so sweet. God, I can't believe I've waited this long to taste you, baby," he groaned as he yapped to you about yourself as if you weren't you.

"Shut up," you rolled your eyes in embarrassment, your cheeks flushed and red.

"Shut me up, then," he grinned proudly.

You looked at him with a pair of judgy eyes before bringing your hand to the back of his head, pulling him to kiss you. He kissed back fervently, so hungry for more with the way the kiss deepened, creating a mess of spit and slick.

"Satoru," you called in between kisses.

"Hmm?"

If Satoru were to pinpoint exactly only one thing about you that he loved, he was sure now that his answer would be the way you say his name. 

Everyone says his name in a rushing manner and he was used to it. But you? 

You ring out each and every syllable as if you had all the time in the world. You say his name as if to remind you that it was his, that it was only his. 

Although, he was sure that his name was created just for you to speak of. 

But most of all, you say his name and enunciate every bit of it as if it were important. As if he was important.

"Please, take this off," you begged, tugging at his pants.

He smiled, pulling away to obey your words. You took in the sight of Satoru Gojo in his most vulnerable state, the most bare he could ever be. Your thighs rubbed against each other, desire creeping up your skin.

"Not again," he beamed, using his hand to spread your legs, exposing yourself. "Come on," he nudged your nose gently, his hands wrapping around you before flipping you around.

His back rested against the headboard of the bed and you were sat in between his legs. His gaze lingered on yours, fingers caressing your jawline lovingly. He placed a soft kiss on your lips.

"I love you," he whispered lowly in the air.

"I love you," you answered with as much fervor and love, wrapping your arms around his neck.

The kiss continued, blossoming into something more as passion rained over. His hands are safe against your back, pulling you in closer, flushed against his body.

"Do you want to-"

"Yes," you nodded eagerly, panting into the gap that was a mix of breaths.

Satoru's hands lowered to your ass, giving it a little squeeze while he helped you straddle him. His gaze went down and yours followed. 

Both of you watched as he aligned himself to your aching hole. Your breath hitched momentarily when his red tip rubbed against the entrance of your pussy. 

Your body slumped on Satoru's, your head falling into the crook of his neck. Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly while he helped you lower yourself on his cock. 

The second his cock began to enter, Satoru threw his head back, his lips parted to release a groan. You whimpered into his neck, muffled by his skin. 

He was stretching your walls so good, you felt dizzy but full. You could feel his length inside you, and you were scared of even moving. 

Once he was buried inside you to the hilt, he held you still to let you adjust to his size.

"You're so big, Satoru," you cried softly into his ears.

"Sorry, love," he gave you a light chuckle. "Whenever you're ready, okay? I can stay inside you like this for however long you'll let me."

"Don't- Don't say shit like that," you glared but it came off half-assedly.

"Why not? It's the truth, princess," he pouted, gently stroking your back for comfort.

"I can move now," you informed, slowly lifting yourself up with a moan.

"Shit, baby," he whimpered.

His hands returned to your ass, lifting you up as well. His entire length almost left you, leaving only the tip of his cock inside you. You lowered yourself quickly, moaning in pleasure as he stretched you.

"So- Ngh- You're s'tight," he whimpered, his head thrown back in ecstasy.

You whined, slowly setting a steady pace as you began to move up and down his cock that throbbed inside you. Satoru was losing his composure and he found himself thrusting his cock inside you further.

"Fuck!" You almost screamed, falling limp into his body.

Satoru's hands on your hips tightened, his breathing erratic. He leaned into you, peppering kisses along your jawline, endlessly muttering, "I love you, I love you, I love you."

You nodded against his hair, pulling him impossibly closer but he leaned back. His arms around you guiding you to bounce on his cock, the pace increasing in speed harshly. 

The sound of skin slapping against one another, paired with the wet noises of your slick mixing with his echoed throughout the room. His eyes longingly gazed into yours, flickering to your lips that were parted as a way for your whimpers to escape. 

His brows furrowed eagerly, hungry to have more of you to taste. You had no idea how but it was as if you knew exactly what he wanted. 

Giving him a slow nod, you collected the substance at the tip of your tongue before opening your mouth. Your tongue stuck out, and he watched with darkened anticipation as your spit fell onto his tongue and he swallowed it, humming as he did so. 

He was near satisfaction, having something of yours inside of him, marking him up for life the way a ring couldn't. It would serve him as a reminder of the night you shared, not that he could ever forget any of it. 

Satoru was desperate now, even more eager to mark you up the same way you marked him. His hips thrust into you, the pain smoothing out into pleasure that caused your back to arch into him.

"Shit, I think I'm close," he muttered, grunting with each clench of your pussy on his cock.

"Me too," you whimpered, wrapping your arms around him. "Satoru," you breathed next to his ear, earning a whine from him. "You can cum inside me if you want."

If he wants?

God, he needs.

He nodded eagerly, fingers carding through strands of your hair to meet him. His hips were growing sloppy, his focus was on you and only you.

Your lips latched onto his, letting him swallow your moans through his tongue that explored your mouth. He knew you were close, reminding himself of all the ways you would show the signs. 

You were clenching so tightly around him, almost refusing to let go of him. His eyes rolled back, feeling the way you arched yourself into him without ever breaking the kiss.

"Satoru," you moaned loudly into him as you cried, letting your orgasm consume you.

He groaned inside your lips, the sound of his cock fucking into your cum was making him dizzy in all the best ways possible. His pace never faltered, only quickening. 

His hands guided your ass still but your mind was too hazy to be able to control your body. It was his lone effort as he fucked himself into your cunt, his cock spasming inside you until finally, he released with a loud cry of your name. 

You whined, feeling his warm semen mix with your own, dripping down his cock and falling to the sheets. His thrusts slowed down as he rode out his high, pushing his cum further and further into you. His head tilted back in heavenly bliss as his eyes were heavy on yours.

"I love you so much," he muttered, kissing you softly as you both settled.

"I love you, too," you replied with a small smile.

He remained inside of you for a little while before helping you get off him. He gently let you lie on the mattress as he climbed over you.

"Satoru," you called, causing him to study you properly. "If tonight is the only time we could ever do this, then, I think I want more."

Your words caused darkness to shadow his eyes. His lips settled into a gentle smile as he kissed you lovingly, pouring out all his emotions into such a simple and chaste press of lips.

"If tonight is the only night we could be together, then let's have each other until we're satisfied."

But neither of you thought you could ever be satisfied living a life without one another.

Still, it will have to do.

Because he was a Gojo.

And you were a Zenin.

And Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer, the bearer of Six Eyes will have to leave behind the only light in his life that stood in the shape of you.

[ganjas-shit]

Oh, You’re Breaking My Heart

Warnings: sexual thoughts, angst, mentions of ptsd, Neil Hargrove, mentions of loneliness and isolation.

Pairings: main pairing Billy x reader, some slight Steve x reader

Summary: Your longing for an exciting romance finally comes true when Billy Hargrove becomes your next-door neighbor. But is love everything you thought it would be?

Authors note: hi everyone! I’m most likely going to be turning this into a series (don’t know how long yet) but I’m so very excited because this has been sitting in my drafts for about a year already and I’ve finally decided to just finish it. There will be eventual smut for this soooooooooooo yea tee hee anyways hope you guys like it! Btw the timeline I’m using is not the same as the one in the show.

Chapter 1: Sea of Stars, Chapter 2: You’re gonna to be okay.

☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚

Love was something you deeply craved, something you longed for. As ridiculous as it sounds, you thought about it almost every day.

Having that one partner in crime; someone you can be reckless, wild, and free with. Someone who makes you forget about reality; someone who would do anything for you. Someone who knows the deepest, darkest parts of you.

For a while it became something you obsessed over.

Intimate, passionate, crazy love—blamed for the constant loneliness you felt. Your obsession with fictional romance failed to alleviate it. No amount of reading or watching could fill the cavity in your heart, that horrible feeling of emptiness in your chest.

Then Billy Hargrove became your next-door neighbor.

It all happened so fast.

Your belly erupted with a swarm of butterflies the moment his ocean-blue eyes met yours, as if the world paused just for that brief moment.

His dirty blonde curls and tan skin ignited something deep inside you. Soon enough, the emptiness in your chest was replaced by the fierce pounding of your heart.

Pretty boys came with a lot of attention, though, meaning Billy Hargrove came with a lot of attention.

Every girl threw themselves at him the moment he set foot in Hawkins High. And who could blame them? With a face like his, he was downright gorgeous. If you had the courage, you'd throw yourself at him too.

But for now, simply admiring him from a distance would suffice.

You took pride in that though. Who else can say they had a perfect view of Billy Hargrove almost every night through their window?

You spent countless nights watching him smoke cigarettes outside on the hood of his Camaro, admiring the way the moonlight hit his face as he was in deep thought about God knows what.

It was pretty hard not to look at Billy other than those nights through your window though...

In Mrs. Clarke's biology class, you'd often catch yourself staring at him. He'd sense your gaze and once smirked back at you, letting you know he felt your eyes on him.

And God, he would never forget the look on your face—wide-eyed and embarrassed as hell.

He thought it was the funniest thing in the world and he found it quite entertaining.

He found you quite entertaining.

Billy was so accustomed to girls throwing themselves at him; it was something he had gotten used to since he hit puberty. And although he enjoyed all the flirtatious looks and comments girls threw at him, he eventually grew bored of it.

However, you and Billy shared a common craving. Whether it was for love, excitement, intimacy, or entertainment, both of you yearned for something more.

.

“Shit guys, we totally forgot to hang up banners in the gym for tomorrow's basketball game!” You screamed like a madwoman startling the entire student council.

With just two minutes left until dismissal, exhaustion hung heavy in the air. The entire week had been a relentless blur of preparation for the school's first basketball game of the season and its accompanying activities. By this point, everyone, including you, was over it.

As the bell rang, everyone dashed out of the classroom as if their lives depended on it. They gave you apologetic looks, patted your shoulder, and mumbled every excuse imaginable to avoid putting up those banners in the school gym.

“So fuck me huh?!” you yelled after them, throwing both your arms up in frustration before dropping them in defeat.

As head of the student council, you couldn't afford to procrastinate. The principal had emphasized that those banners had to be up and ready for tomorrow's game, or there would be consequences. That prick didn't intimidate you in the slightest, but, you had a reputation to maintain, and everything had to be flawless.

You huffed and grumbled as you entered the gym, your arms hugging a variety of large banners needing to be hung up. Your frustration completely blinded you to the sight of the gym full of shirtless basketball players.

Suddenly, a basketball collided with your shoulder at full speed, knocking the banners out of your arms.

The gym erupted in laughter.

“This isn't the student council club you do know that right kooks?” Tommy H. yelled from the court, laughing, trying so hard to impress his dickhead teammates.

Kooks.

They had given you that nickname after the scene you caused at Tina's Halloween party last year. It's the reason you no longer associate yourself with that crowd.

You remember it like it was yesterday.

You arrived at Tina's party with Tommy and Carol by your side, just one week after your harrowing experience of getting stuck in the Upside Down. It probably wasn't the wisest decision to be out, and you knew it. You had been home, cutting class, and ignoring their calls, and they had noticed a change in you. You were easily irritable and on edge. Carol even made a snide comment about how you'd probably been hanging out with Munson, snorting too much Special K.

According to them, you were a real drag to be around. So, they dragged you out of the house, urging you to let loose and forget about whatever it was you were dealing with. And so you did. You drank until you couldn't feel anymore, indulging in anything and everything that was being passed around.

Carol was never truly your friend; she was someone you grew up with and were kind of forced to know. She never really cared for you, so it was no surprise when you overheard her snickering with a few girls from the cheer squad.

They all eyed you up and down as you drunkenly swayed to the music.

“Wonder what hell she's been living; she's out of fucking control,” Carol remarked, smacking her gum as she laughed with the girls next to her, rolling her eyes at you.

Your ears perked up at her words, and they echoed in your head on a relentless loop, amplified by the effects of alcohol and marijuana.

Hell. Hell. Hell.

Images from that fateful night flooded your mind—the frantic sprint through the woods, the desperate attempt to escape the unknown terror pursuing you. You ran until your lungs burned and your legs gave out, only to find yourself in a place that resembled home but felt like a nightmare. It was as though you had fallen into a pit and landed in a realm you could only describe as hell. Darkness enveloped everything, the air thick with swirling black particles, and a monstrous creature hunted you down as if you were its final prey.

Tears welled up at the memory, and you couldn't hold back any longer. You had been bottling up your emotions, feeling isolated because what you had experienced sounded utterly unbelievable.

You charged at Carol and shoved her into the wall, causing picture frames of Tina's seemingly perfect family to crash to the floor.

Like the breaking picture frames, the smiles masking their true essence shattered that night, much like your own exterior, revealing the turmoil within.

You started to laugh manically, tears spilling out of your eyes.

“Oh, Carol, you haven't seen hell,” you chuckled, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “It's right beneath this town, and it's anything but pretty. It's downright awful.”

Carol was frightened tears threatening to spill from her eyes, she felt powerless in this position.

“Hey! What the hell is your problem, Y/L/N? Get off of her!”Tommy yelled, rushing towards you and Carol, pulling you away from her.

You pushed him back. “Don't you dare put your fucking hands on me!” you yelled, your words laced with venom. He backed away, refocusing his attention on Carol, attempting to comfort her throbbing head.

The images flashed in your head: your screams, the Demogorgon, the overwhelming sense of isolation. You turned to face the party, and all eyes were on you as the music came to a sudden stop.

“How can you all just sit here and party,”you sobbed, your voice growing louder, more terrifying with each word. Nobody dared to approach you or even attempt to calm you down. It was clear you were experiencing a psychotic break.

You hadn't spoken to Steve in months, ever since he started distancing himself from you, Tommy, and Carol. But you couldn't forget the moment when he threw you over his shoulder, with Nancy by his side, and dragged you out of that party.

That night, you cried until you fell asleep, finding comfort in the presence of Nancy Wheeler and your old friend Steve Harrington. When you woke up the next day, you found yourself in Nancy's bed, bombarded with all sorts of questions. You ended up sharing the horrifying experiences you had down there, and for the first time in a long while, you didn't feel alone. Now, you were stuck with a new nickname and a family bonded by the traumas of the Upside Down.

You laughed at the memory but the anger you felt in the moment snapped you back to reality.

The basketball rolled to the side, catching your attention. With all eyes on you, including Billy's intrigued gaze, you felt an itch for release. Without a second thought, you picked up the ball and with one swift motion, threw it at full speed. It struck the side of Tommy's head, catching him completely by surprise as he was too preoccupied trying to make his teammates laugh.

“You do realize there's a basketball game tomorrow, right?” You questioned voice dripping with sarcasm. “Maybe you should practice your passes a little more, you fucking prick!” you shot back, mimicking his tone with a hint of venom.

The laughter in the gym was quickly replaced by a chorus of “oooh's,” and Tommy was visibly seething with anger, clutching the side of his head where the basketball had struck him.

“You're so lucky you're a girl, freak!” Tommy yelled, pointing his finger at you in frustration.

You smiled and flipped him the bird.

Your reaction sparked something in Billy's gut, a mix of amusement and something else. He couldn't help but burst into laughter, though you might not have noticed being too preoccupied with picking the banners up.

Before he even realized it, Billy found himself inexplicably drawn towards you, as if some invisible force was guiding his steps.

Like his legs had minds of their own.

“That was quite a throw,” a deep, angelic voice sounded from behind you. Shit, you had totally forgotten he was here.

“Those throws are especially reserved for dickheads,” you retorted without turning around, your face turning as red as a tomato.

Billy's chuckle caught you off guard, something you never thought you'd hear up close. As you started to walk off to finish what you came here for, you heard him clear his throat, stopping you in your tracks.

“Aren't you forgetting something?” he questioned, giving you no choice but to turn around and see what he was referring to.

And god all mighty

There he was, shirtless. His tan skin glistened with sweat, revealing defined abs and muscular arms. Geez, you could've passed out right then and there.

He wore a proud smirk, revealing a perfect set of teeth as he held out the tape you needed for the banners. You almost drooled at the sight of him, feeling your core heat up and your cheeks flush.

“Oh, uh—thanks” you nervously said, quickly grabbing the tape from his hand. Surprisingly, you still maintained eye contact. God, he loved the effect he had on you.

“You need any help with those?” he chuckled once again. That's twice now; one more and you might just jump on him.

“Don’t you have to get ready for tomorrow’s game?” You asked timidly.

Jesus, why did you care?

“They can’t overwork their star player sweetheart.” He winked, once again flashing his pearly whites

You died and went to heaven at this point.

Sweetheart? That wink?

Your mouth hung open and he left you speechless, like a crazed fan girl. You started to wonder how he’d look at you if you were on your knees taking all of him.

How he’d talk to you..

“Look at you taking all of me sweetheart.”

God you really needed to get your shit together.

“Come on sweetheart don’t leave me hanging,” he said as he waved his hand in your face, trying to bring you back to reality.

He really needed to stop calling you that.

“Um, yeah, I guess I could use a little help,” you said, swallowing harshly. Your gaze shifted from the banners in your hands to his lips.

You really hated how flustered you got around him but a small part of you loved these new feelings.

“Great.” he responded with a cheeky grin.

You found yourself not being much help; he took charge and handled the banner hanging almost entirely by himself. He insisted on doing it, claiming it was the gentlemanly thing to do.

Tommy looked over at the two of you, confused. Billy Hargrove being a gentleman, to the psycho? Hell must've frozen over, he thought.

With Billy taking on the work, you had no choice but to stand there, looking all pretty, as you ripped pieces of tape with your mouth and passed them to him. You guided him on how to position the banners into place.

You couldn't help but notice the way his back muscles flexed when he reached up to position the banner, sending a flutter through your stomach.

You’d never been this close to him.

It also didn’t help that he brushed his fingers against yours every time he went to grab a piece of tape from you. And with him on the stool, towering above you, looking down at you, there was plenty of room for imagination for you both.

You were convinced he was trying to fucking kill you. Was he aware of the effect he had on you?

Every touch from him sent every single nerve in your body into a frenzy.

And those were just your fingers; you could only imagine what would happen if his fingers touched the spot you longed for him the most.

In the past few weeks, Billy had noticed that he was always running into you one way or another. So, he decided he might as well make it fun.

You were different from the girls he usually pursued, and he liked that. It made things all the more exciting. Billy had learned a few things about you: you were timid but had a backbone, responsible (an assumption he made because you were the student council president), and not too worried about your appearance, which didn't really matter because you were already breathtakingly beautiful.

“LADIES, HUDDLE UP! HARGROVE, GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!” Coach Williams's voice rang out, snapping both you and Billy out of your thoughts.

Billy climbed off the step stool and leaned in towards your ear, catching you completely by surprise. He whispered, "Glad I can be of help, sweetheart. If you need help with anything else, I'm only one house away." With a smirk, he pulled back and left to return to his team captain duties.

The hot of this breath made your body shiver.

The look on your face was embarrassing, with your cheeks hot and your mouth slightly hanging open. Billy would never forget it; in fact, the mere sight of your mouth hanging open made him twitch in his pants as his imagination ran wild once again.

Your thoughts wouldn't allow you peace of mind as you finished tidying up the banners into place. Lost in thought, you hadn't even noticed that everyone had already left the gym, leaving you alone in the empty space.

The sound of the door gym doors opening startled you, snapping you back to reality.

You smiled at the sight of the tall brunette.

“Ah if it isn’t King Steve” you say teasingly, “or should I say EX King Steve who has been dethroned by the new California hottie.” You tease poking at his face

“Ha. Ha. Ha.” Steve replied dryly swatting your fingers away, taking fake offense to your comment.

Steve could care less about his so called “throne” he had new priorities, which consisted of ooking after you and his newfound family of children.

“Very funny y/n,” he said sarcastically.

Steve couldn't help but wonder if you and Billy had been hanging out. He had noticed how fond you had grown of him ever since he stepped into town. Lately, he had observed a change in your demeanor, how excited you were to get home, and how your face lit up at the sound of Billy's name. Steve could practically feel the butterflies radiating off of you.

“Hanging around is pushing it, Steve. We're just neighbors,” you reply, with a slight blush on your face that doesn’t go unnoticed by Steve.

“Yeah, I don't blush when someone mentions Agatha, my next-door neighbor,” he scoffs, shivering at the thought of his creepy stalker neighbor.

You roll your eyes at him, though it's quickly replaced with a smirk. “Well, Billy isn't a creepy stalker,”you say, though you wouldn't mind if he was. “Plus, he's kinda hot,”you finish, nudging his shoulder as you two make your way out of the gym.

“Yeah, gross,” Steve dramatically gags, though he also cringes at the slight twinge of jealousy he keeps feeling in his stomach.

You and Steve never hooked up. However, you two did develop some weird feelings for each other, but it was probably because you were so close to dying together.

You frown at the memory you thought was going to be the last.

Vines from the Upside Down began to wrap around your neck and body. Steve was right next to you, suffering the same fate. He looked at you, his heart breaking at the fear in your eyes. Trying to bring you some comfort, he gathered as much strength as he could and reached his hand out for yours, interlocking them together.

Thankfully, Eddie and Dustin saved you and everyone who thought it would be a bright idea to fight off Vecna. Ever since that day, though, Steve has been attached to your hip, making sure you get home safely after school and always ensuring you aren't alone.

Sometimes he'd find himself gazing at your lips or absentmindedly brushing away strands of hair that danced across your face on a windy day.

Steve didn’t know where you two stood. Neither of you had made a move, and he was too afraid to make one and face rejection.

You weren't sure how you felt about Steve, but you knew how you felt about Billy, and that feeling was becoming increasingly difficult to brush off.

“Coach still benching you for tomorrow's game?” you ask, changing the subject immediately. You regret it the moment you see the disappointment on Steve's face.

Basketball was his first love and ever since Billy got to town he’s slowly been losing the love he once held for the game.

He ran a hand through his messy head of hair and sighed.

“Yeah, thanks to your boy toy over there,” Steve says, glaring at the blonde who was a car away from Steve's. You wrap your arms around him as you two reach his burgundy BMW.

“You're a great player, Steve,” you state matter of factly, squeezing him a little tighter. “I think everything that's been going on—the Upside Down, us fighting interdimensional monsters, and almost dying—has taken a toll on you.” You reassure him and then let go to look into his eyes.

“It's normal to have a little setback; it's understandable. Plus, you've saved the world multiple times!” you said, slapping his chest lightly. “That beats being a starter on the stupid Hawkins High basketball team any day.”You finished, smiling at him.

Steve’s eyes softened at your words and smiled.

Christ, this is exactly why his feelings were a mess for you.

Steve brought you in for a tight hug because words couldn’t express how grateful he was for you.

From the next car down, Billy observed the two of you and couldn't shake the thought: had you and Harrington ever been a thing? The idea unsettled him because Billy Hargrove didn’t want to share you.

.

Steve dropped you off at home, as he usually did. He would usually stay for a bit and keep you company, but tonight he promised Dustin he’d take him to Mike’s for their D&D campaign.

You walked into the house, which was eerily quiet and empty, as it always was. Switching on the kitchen light, you noticed a note attached to the fridge.

Be back in the morning. Love you. -Dad

You sighed as a your traced your finger up down the note.

Your father traveled for work most of the time as a tech service representative for a variety of chemical companies. He'd often be gone for days, sometimes even weeks, so being alone was something you had grown accustomed to.

Your relationship with your father was also very complicated. You would even say it was nonexistent, given that he was always gone, and when he was around, he'd sleep the days away.

You pretended like it didn’t bother you but deep down it was something that made the cavity in your heart unbearable.

You weren't completely alone, though. Steve and you bonded over your shared loneliness, as both of his parents were also always away on business trips, calling only once a week, if he was lucky.

He'd often spend the night at your place, or you'd spend the night at his, rewatching ‘The Breakfast Club’ or ‘Sixteen Candles,’ his personal favorite, although he wouldn't admit that to anyone.

The bond between you two wasn't solely fueled by loneliness; fear played a significant role as well. It was the fear of that night—the night your friends almost died—that kept you together.

You felt goosebumps travel throughout your body at the thought of it. You instantly shook it off and decided to wash your feelings away with a warm, hot shower. You dreaded the night to come because of the insomnia you developed this past year of living in this small town. But thankfully, you had a couple of your favorite romance novels on deck to keep you occupied throughout the night.

You slipped into one of Eddie’s well-worn Metallica tees, its length reaching down to your knees. It was a keepsake from the day you and the gang had spent the night at his trailer, after an exciting evening of sneaking into the Hawkins community pool.

It was one of your favorite memories you’ve made in this shit town.

After slipping on the tee, you put on some black laced panties you pulled from you drawer.

You glanced over to your window, partially covered by your curtains, and wondered what the dirty blonde was up to. Curious, you walked over and took a peek, wondering where he was because he was usually out at this time, either smoking a cigarette or sitting in his car, or doing both at once.

Like clockwork, he slammed his front door, grabbing the red lighter he always kept in his back pocket and reaching it to the cigarette hanging out of his pink lips.

He cupped the cigarette out of habit and lit it, inhaling the silent killer.

He then hopped onto the hood of his car and reclined, still smoking the cigarette as he gazed at the starlit sky, lost in deep thought.

You wanted to join him, eager to learn more about the California boy, even if he didn't show interest in you. Something inside you just needed to know who Billy Hargrove was.

You also wanted to try to settle the intense feelings coursing through your body.

You stared at him for what felt like a lifetime, admiring his chiseled jawline, how his pretty blue eyes looked in the moonlight, and the rhythmic pattern of his inhaling and exhaling cigarette smoke.

Fuck you cigarette.

You envied his cigarettes.

You wanted to be inhaled and exhaled like that, and you didn’t even care if you were disregarded like them when he was done.

Billy felt your gaze through the window, and as he smirked, you couldn't help but notice. Despite being caught, you couldn't suppress a smile of your own.

Billy sat up and looked directly into your window. Your face grew flustered as you two made eye contact, but you held it, unable to look away.

You pushed yourself to do something you found so uncomfortable and you ignored the negative thoughts running through your head.

Billy tossed his cigarette to the ground and he was about to pick up a new one.

That being you.

You quickly threw on some discarded sweats from the floor and made your way to the front door. As you wrapped your hand around the doorknob, you hesitated for a minute. Nervousness gripped you, but you were determined to make things different this year. You wanted to push yourself beyond your comfort zone. No longer content with just fantasizing about romance, you wanted to live it, even if it meant risking a broken heart in the process. After all, at least you'd have a story to tell.

The cool night breeze kissed your face, sending shivers down your spine as you stepped out of your door. Closing it behind you, you were wrapped in darkness, illuminated only by the soft glow of the streetlights. Your heart raced as you descended off the few steps of your front porch.

As you turned the corner, you were met with Billy Hargrove's infuriating smirk. It would've been irritating if you didn't harbor this crush for him. With determination, you walked in front of his car, mere inches away from where he sat. Your heart threatened to beat out of your chest.

“Hi,” you spoke up slightly out of breath. Billy knew it was nervousness that caused you to sound that way.

You think back to the conversation you had earlier in the day.

“If you ever need help with anything, I’m only one house away.”

You wanted something. You knew what you wanted, and you knew what he meant by it, but you didn’t want to jump his bones immediately. You wanted to get to know him, and maybe that was foolish of you given his reputation, but you didn’t care.

“Hi, Y/N,” Billy greeted with a chuckle, his eyes roaming over your figure. He noticed your shirt and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“You listen to Metallica?” Billy questioned, his gaze shifting to Eddie's worn-out black tee. "Oh, this?" you said, grabbing onto the thin material of your shirt. “No, it's a friend's. He let me borrow it,” you partially explained, letting out a shaky laugh.

“Hmm, didn't peg Harrington for a metal kinda guy” Billy remarked, assumingely, lighting yet another cigarette.

"You think Steve's my only male friend?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "You have more than one?" Billy questioned back, the movement of lighting his cigarette coming to a short pause, his eyes widening momentarily. Billy could take Harrington, but any other male suitors would be a problem for him.“Is that a problem, Hargrove?” you questioned, once again amused by his reaction. Was he jealous?

He laughed and took a drag from his cigarette. He looked so beautiful like this, the view from your window couldn’t compare to the view you had right now. Despite the chill outside, you felt a warmth spreading through you.

“Not that I can’t compete with Harrington and?” He asked waiting for you to provide the name of said friend.

Compete?

“Eddie,” you said filling in the blank for him. “Ah, Munson, the freak,” he chuckled, taking yet another drag from his cigarette.

“You do know you’re talking to right? You remark, raising an eyebrow at him hinting that you fell into the same category as Eddie.

“Never said I had a problem with ‘freaks’,” he said smiling, as he looked down at your lips before meeting your gaze. “If I’m being honest they’re my favorite types of people.” He added licking his lips.

You gulped as his intense gaze met yours. He was undeniably gorgeous. The ache between your legs begged for relief, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he noticed, especially when he then said ,

“Come sit,” making space for you on the hood of his car. You obliged, sitting on the cool surface, crossing your legs, relieving some type of pressure. “You smoke?” he asked, handing you the lit cigarette. You took the cigarette, his warm fingers slightly touching your cold ones.

“Nope, but there's a first time for everything, right?” you smiled, taking a drag of the cigarette. The sensation immediately made you almost cough out a lung and you hadn’t even inhaled it completely. Billy laughed once again and slid his hand onto your back, lightly patting it attempting to ease your coughing fit.

You handed the cigarette back to him and laughed, the coughing fit dying down. “Yeah, first and last time doing that. God, that is nothing like weed,” you remarked.

Billy removed his hand from your back, and you couldn't help but groan slightly at the loss of touch. He looked at you with an amused smile. "I could only imagine how you reacted to hitting a joint for the first time," he said with a grin.

“Oh, trust me, it was nothing like that. I almost died just now,”you said as you wiped the tears that formed in your eyes from coughing.

You leaned back on his car like he did on countless nights and looked up at the starlit sky. Billy did the same after putting out his cigarette.

"The only good thing about this shit town is how pretty the sky looks at night," you said. He looked up at the sky and thought the same. There were so many stars, each one representing hope.

"And the rain," he added, which surprised you. “But you're from California, it’s all sun over there!” You exclaimed, giggling a bit.

“Yeah, I know,” he smiled at your excitement. “It hardly rains over there, but I loved it when it did,” he said, reminiscing about his life in California.

“I liked sitting in my car and listening to the rain; it brought me some sort of peace of mind out there. Especially here, it's stronger and louder, drowns out the thoughts,” he added, tapping his head in a playful manner.

You smiled at his explanation.

“It makes me feel like a kid again,” you added, your voice soft with nostalgia. "Running around, no jacket, laughing, feeling the water down your face and drenching your clothes. Sometimes I sit outside and look up at the sky, enjoying the way it feels on my face," you said, still smiling at the sky above.

Billy turned his head to look at you now, and you were oblivious to it for the first time. He felt his heart skip a beat at your explanation and the way you smiled at the sky full of stars. From that moment on, Billy was determined to know more about you.

You two continued talking, giggling, sneaking glances at each other, but it all came to a halt when you both heard a loud slam from the door of his house. A man in his mid-40s descended down the stairs of Billy’s front porch and made his way towards you both. Billy straightened up immediately at the sight of this man.

“It’s late,” the man spat, keeping his eyes on Billy, completely ignoring your presence. “Get inside; you need to take Maxine and yourself to school tomorrow.”

“Hi, sir,”you timidly intervened. “I'm Y/N. I live next door. I'm sorry for keeping Billy out so late. We were just talking about class, and I lost track of time.” You finished

Billy looked at you in shock as if you said something out of turn.

He looked you up and down with a deadpanned look before giving you a tight-lipped smile and nodded. Then, he gave Billy a warning glance before leaving. Odd. You thought.

You noticed the shift in Billy’s demeanor he was noticeably uncomfortable and even seemed scared. Billy took a deep breath after his father left and ran a hand over his face, visibly tense.

“You okay?” You carefully asked not wanting to overstep any boundaries.

“Yeah, I will be,”he exhaled, mustering up a small smile. “Thank you for tonight. I'll see you around, Y/N.” With that, he left. You waited until he made it inside and you returned home yourself.

As you stepped into the house, the loneliness of it consumed you once again. But you disregarded it, shaking it off, because a bigger part of you felt content and happy.

.

Billy grew accustomed to loneliness; sometimes, he even preferred it. But when he saw how present his friends' parents were in their lives, the loneliness spread and often consumed him. His mother was gone, her whereabouts unknown, leaving him abandoned and stuck with his monstrous father. He had the shell of a parental figure, but in reality, his father was a bully, a coward. This left Billy feeling trapped and hopeless, like a prisoner in his own home, with no one to relate to, no one to vent to, nothing.

When Billy made it inside his house he had already prepared himself for the worst. His father was seated on the sofa waiting for him to come in.

“I'm sorry, sir, I lost track of—“ Neil raised his hand to stop him from explaining, and like a trained soldier, Billy shut his mouth immediately. Neil stood up, making his way towards him. Billy flinched as Neil raised his hand, and to Billy’s surprise, he patted his shoulder. Billy furrowed his brows in confusion; he hated his father's touch. “Nice girl,” Neil remarked before walking past him and heading to his room.

What the fuck?

Anger coursed through Billy’s veins, his heart beating furiously in his chest. Why you? What the hell was so special about you that had Neil Hargrove's fatherly approval? Billy scoffed. He didn’t care if he'd get beatings for what he had planned or about your feelings at the moment, but he was going to royally piss his father off. Fuck his approval. He didn’t want it nor did he care for or it.

Billy disregarded his strong feelings for you and decided to be the dick he knew himself to be.

Tags:

[bonny-kookoo]

Yoongi: Eat The Rich (2)

Yoongi has been called a lot; wild, insane, dangerous: but never has one seen him excited, happy- and in love.

Tags/Warnings: cat hybrids Yoongi & mc, Violence, murder, strangers to lovers, blood, angst, graphic descriptions of violence, adult themes, fluff, romance, detective Min is introduced oh my

Length: Long

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"I hate that I never know where you sleep." Yoongi growls a little, opening the bottle of juice for you before you take it from him, eagerly drinking the cold beverage. You've both grown closer since everything happened, and Yoongi has made it clear to you that while you're clearly mates, that doesn't mean that you're obligated to love him.

You sigh as your lips leave the bottle, legs stretching out a little before you lean back, your head tilting towards him with am impish little grin. "Why?" You challenge. "Cause you wanna cuddle, s' that it?" You tease, and he chuckles.

"Maybe, if you're into that." He bites back, and your eyes widen for a split second before you occupy yourself with your drink again, looking away from him.

It's something that amuses him greatly.

You're pretty cheeky, a brat all the way, but whenever he gives you answers like that, you show that he's capable of getting under your skin with ease. But you don't let him have you that easily- and it excites him, the way you have him work for it.

"Hm, Yoongi?" You ask, empty bottle at your feet while you're now laying on your back uncaring of your clothes getting dirty, looking at him while your tail swirls around. "Can you buy me Naengmyeon?" You ask, eyes all round and sparkling.

"Thought you didn't wanna go on a date with me." He teases, looking down at where you're laying, part of your stomach showing. He feels weirdly protective of you showing such a vulnerable part of your body like this, wants to reach out and pull down your shirt to cover you, but you're not his to protect yet. He's got no right to touch you with such intentions.

Yet.

"Pfff." You pout at him, crossing your arms as your foot kicks the bottle away. "Dont be mean.." you mumble, and he shakes his head laughing.

"Am I?" He questions, standing up from where he was sitting next to you. "Come on then, get your ass up." He says, getting out his cigarettes to light one up, while you jump into a standing position, tumbling into him however. And for a second, he wants to joke, tease even- but he notices how you have to visibly regain yourself, blood pressure having probably tumbled down from your quick movements.

But you don't ever let him see you vulnerable, clearly used to covering up any weaknesses you might have. "Last one at the restaurant has to pay!" You yell out, running off laughing, while he sighs, opening his arms in defeat.

"I have to pay anyways!" He yells after you-

Though he does start to dash after you, uncaring of people looking at you both oddly.

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"Tell me about him." The cleanly dressed detective asks, standing behind the table across from you, leaned forwards on the edge of it.

"You guys must love chaining pretty girls up in here like this." You say, leaning forwards to push out your cleavage as if to prove your point. "Play bad cop all you want if it's fun for you." You shrug, setting back into your chair.

"You'll sing like a bird soon, don't worry." The man chuckles, watching you like he's got you all figured out. "They all do at some point." He claims.

"I won't." You simply answer, before leaning forwards again, so close you can clearly see the indent from the scar in his face. "Wanna know why?" You ask, and he doesn't move an inch.

"Humor me." He challenges lowly, and you break into a grin.

"Cause the cat eats the bird, never the other way 'round." You giggle, moving away from him again.

"You don't seem to be bothered to be here." The man simply moves on, opening a folder with documents. "I guess because you're more than familiar with the interior of this room." He shrugs, now finally sitting down. "Multiple acts of theft, driving without a license, arson, attempted manslaughter. You've spent some time but got released due to good behavior." He reads aloud, and you don't move a single muscle as you hear those things. "Would be a shame if we had to put you back into a shelter again, no? After all, you strays love living on the streets."

"And you love pretending to be human." You giggle, making the man's eyes sharpen significantly. "Oops, did that hit a nerve?" You tilt your head.

"Where the fuck is Min Yoongi." He asks yet again, hands flat on the table.

"Who knows." You shrug. "None of my business."

"Bullshit." He slaps the tabletop, standing up again. "You're fucking him, so you know where he is." He barks at you angrily, and you laugh.

"Maybe in his dreams I am!" You laugh, head leaning back before you look at the detective again. "You really do know nothing. You're so desperate to find your baby brother, it's cute-"

"That is not my brother!" He yells, visibly getting heated now, before he takes a deep breath and sits down again. "How do you know?" He wants to know.

"A bird sang it to me." You simply shrug, watching him.

"Stop fucking around." He suddenly says, pushing the table to the side in a rough manner before he holds onto the arm rests of your chair, face only inches away from you. "I've got free reign to do whatever I want to get any Intel I need, so I'll ask once again, one last fucking time because I'm nice-" he snarls. "How do you know?"

"You smell just like him." You whisper almost, and his gaze stays on you as if it's a camera lens trying to get the focus right. "I just assumed you were, and got it right by pure luck." You shrug, never pulling away from him, even though he's so close your nose could touch any second now. "Do you hate him because he's a hybrid? Or because he at least knows what he is, where he belongs? Must be confusing to be a cat with nothing to show for it." You say, and for once you don't sound like you're mocking him.

No, there's almost a hint of true pity in there.

"Bet the officers at the station talk shit about you behind your back all day." You say, cat ears twitching a little. "Probably mock you, too. Is that why you hate your brother so much? So the humans like you?" You wonder, your tail gently swaying behind you. "You're acting like a child, bullying others just to be the cool kid. What does that say about your character, detective Min?" You ask, and he chuckles, gaze dropping down to your lips before it raises again to your eyes. There's something else in his eyes now, something heated, as he retreats, closes your folder.

"I'll find him." He says, looking back at you as he walks around your chair, keys jingling as he moves behind you, hands on your wrists. "And I'll find you, too." He hums into your ear, chuckling at the surprised face of yours when he simply opens your handcuffs, opening the door. "Go." He orders, and you stand up, now visibly confused and wary as you walk towards the exit of the room- but he just looks after you, never breaking his gaze on you-

Not even once you leave the station, detective Min still watching you from the windows, arms crossed and smirk on his lips.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"You never told me you had a brother." You say, and Yoongi chokes on his bottled water, both from the scare of you speaking put of nowhere, and the words you'd said.

You're leaning over the edge of the shabby ceiling of the small shed he'd rented out as a second safehouse if anything was to happen, watching him standing down ok the ground, now looking up at you with angrily furrowed brows.

"What the fuck?" He asks, probably both as a genuine question, and as an accusation to scaring him. "And also stop sneaking up on me you creep." He tells you, wiping his mouth.

"Sorry. But it's funny." You giggle, visibly at ease with him now.

"How'd you hear of that?" Yoongi wonders.

"Oh, got arrested last night, dragged into the police station. The detective looked like you, and smelled kind of similar to you too, so I just guessed." You shrug, leaning your chin on your hands.

"Yeah well I don't consider him my brother at all, so don't ever bring that bastard up again." He shakes his head, crossing his arms. "Son of a bitch thinks he's someone special." He mumbles more or less to himself, not looking at you anymore.

It's silent for a moment, until you talk again. "Sorry." You simply say, and he looks up at you hearing that.

"Its okay." He sighs, before properly turning towards you. "Now, will you come down, or..?" He asks, and you perk up at that, easing his mind immediately. He likes seeing you happy.

And that's not because he's your mate.

"Or..?" You ask teasingly. "Will you come and get me instead?" You wonder, and he furrows his brows.

"Absolutely not, I had to beat someone up today and my muscles hurt." He argues, shaking his head.

"Heeh, what muscles huh?" You tease, squinting your eyes as if to try and spot them. "You've got such noodle arms, what muscles are you talking about?" You laugh, making him growl a bit down on his spot, his arms crossed and tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek.

"Your game doesnt work with me love." He simply tells you. "Get down yourself, let's go grab a bite to eat." He says, watching you move around to have your legs dangle off the edge of the roof, the height now ending up making him a little uneasy after all- stepping forward to catch you mid-fall, your hands on his shoulder while his arms are wrapped around your legs, holding you.

And you grin down at him, sparkle in your eyes warm with a hint of something more intimate in them. "Hm, I'll take it back." You say a lot quieter now, no need to talk loudly with the close proximity you're both in, before you kiss his forehead, breaking free of his grip after stunning him with your actions.

"Come on, old guy!" You laugh, a jump in your step as he walks next to you, colorful lanterns and neon signs leading the way, while Yoongi thinks about what you've said.

Him and his brother had been like this for years now, probably ever since he could think of. If he's got his eyes on you now, there's a high chance he will try and use you against him- and it worries Yoongi, because he knows deep down that it would work. He's too invested in you at this point to just sacrifice you to safe himself any longer, no matter if mate or not. Even if he wasn't, he couldn't just leave you alone any longer.

There's something about you he can't explain. Maybe it's the way you just seem.. raw. No mask, no sugarcoating, no act put up to please him or the people around you. You have fun with no regards if people find you weird, you run if you want to, stay still if you feel like it. You're in a way what he himself always thought being free meant down the line. You don't hurt anybody- you just live.

And these days, you kind of evolved, too. From the silent and withdrawn stray that would occasionally spend some time with him, to what you show him now; someone who didn't deserve the harsh treatment this world offered you, someone who doesn't deserve the constant problems thrown your way.

He orders your favorite, sits down with you at a table, watches the streets outside like a guard dog ready to act if something was to happen. He doesn't know what he's waiting for, doesn't know what's to come-

But the scarred face looking at him, man with his hands in his pockets, reminds him of the ever so present danger, just waiting to strike. Yoongi tenses up for a second, before he watches the detective simply walk off, disappearing into the crowd, vanishing out of sight.

"Is your place big?" You wonder, snapping him out of his thoughts as he looks at you, eating your cold noodles with red chopsticks.

"Hm, it depends what you call big." He shrugs. "Guess you'd have to see for yourself?" He wonders, leaning back in his chair as you lift the bowl, savoring every last bit of your meal before you set it back down, licking your lips.

"Guess so." You shrug, not looking at him.

"Is that your way of telling me you wanna stay with me tonight?" He chuckles, and you shrug again, clearly a bit shy- it's new, and he decides that he loves the way you squirm in your seat a bit, unable to look at him.

"Maybe.." you mumble, finally looking at him. "But no funny business!" You accuse, making him lift his hands in playful defeat.

"I'll keep my hands to myself, promise." He laughs. "I can be a gentleman too, you know." He offers, and you cringe. "What?"

"You? A gentleman." You tease, shaking your head.

"You just don't give me a chance to be one, you brat." He grins, tilting his head. "Give me a chance and I might just show you how nice I can be." He offers, and you're not sure if he means it or not.

"..." You're not sure what to answer, when he reaches out to pull the chopsticks out of your hands, placing them onto the table instead. "Guys like you aren't nice." You mumble, and he chuckles.

"True." He agrees. "But I could be just for you."

"You're really tied up in this whole mate-stuff." You giggle, but he shakes his head.

"Even if we weren't, I'd say the same things." He tells you. "It just gave me an extra push to talk to you, that's all." The cat hybrid shrugs, and you scan his body language for any hint of a lie.

But there's none.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

His place is neither big nor small, but surprisingly vibrant.

"I like the view." You say, watching the streets below. "Its cozy." You comment, looking over at Yoongi who's throwing some pillows and a blanket on a mattress.

"Yeah, but don't sleep near the windows." He mumbles. "You never know what sick fuck might try and shoot you in your sleep." He says mostly to himself, something that makes you wonder if such an attempt on his life had ever been made. It's possible with a life like his- and in a way, it makes you worry that one day he'll be taken out like this, dragged away from you.

You're not sure if you can handle that. He's gotten too close to not be bothered by this chance of things happening.

"Where do I sleep then?" You ask, watching how he shrugs.

"Right here? I don't know.." he says, scratching the back of his neck.

"Where do you sleep?" You ask, and he points to another few stacked up mattresses in a corner, and you nod, dragging the mattress closer to that spot. "What-" he starts, though doesn't finish his sentence.

"I.. uhm, I mean, I wanted to stay here to feel safe after all, and.. you know." You try and explain, and he laughs, watching you sit down on the mattress, slipping off your shorts and socks, leaving you in only your top. The glimpse of your naked skin is shortened though, because you quickly crawl under the blanket, your back turned towards him a clear sign that you want to sleep.

So he gets ready for bed himself as well, careful not to make too much noise in case you fell asleep at any point.

And for the first time in years, you sleep deeply, even dream-

For once, the dream being of nothing but happy things.

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[drewharrisonwriter]

Donor | Drabble | Superman

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Pairings: Bestie Henry Cavill x OFC

A/N, Warnings: 18+, this is a drabble for my Henry Cavill fic Donor. English is not my first language.

Summary: Henry's kids find out he played Superman.

"Paaaaaaapaaa!" Mari's excited call echoed through the house as she dashed down the stairs, with Henry rushing to meet her at the landing.

"Mari!” Henry exclaimed. “What's happening? Is everything alright?" he asked with a touch of nervousness, preparing himself to catch his thirteen-year-old daughter in case she stumbled while descending the stairs.

"Papa, were you actually Superman?" Mari's eyes shimmered with a blend of astonishment and curiosity.

"Good grief, Mari!" Henry exclaimed in relief, closing his eyes briefly and running a hand down his face, while the other rested on his waist. "You scared me half to death. Is that all you wanted to ask?"

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Mari asked with bubbling enthusiasm, bouncing on her heels.

"Well, it's not like it's some top-secret information," Henry replied, guiding his daughter down the hall toward the kitchen.

"What's all the fuss about?" You called out from the kitchen before Henry and Mari entered.

"Your daughter just unearthed the fact that her papa is the son of Jor-El," Henry responded with faux exasperation, causing you to snort. Henry and Mari settled onto bar stools across the kitchen island, where you were meticulously frosting the first of three batches of cupcakes that Sisi needed for school the next morning.

"Really? Nobody thought to mention that papa was Superman?" Mari inquired, still puzzled and amazed by the revelation.

"Why is this such a surprise?" You asked, not taking your eyes off the cupcake you were skillfully frosting. "Your father is an actor, after all."

"Yeah, but Superman? Ma, we've been living with Clark Kent all this time," Mari quipped, lowering her voice conspiratorially for the latter part, as though sharing a closely guarded secret. You laughed hard at your daughter’s reaction. 

"Thirteen years, darling. Took her thirteen years to find out.” Henry chuckled and you giggled.  “Who spilled the beans, anyway?" he asked. 

"Uncle Charlie did! And I knew you were a bit of a nerd, pa, but I had no idea you were enough of a nerd to be cast as Superman," Mari teased, prompting exaggerated gasps of shock from both Henry and you.

"Oh goodness, actors!" Mari groaned, rolling her eyes at her playful parents.

"Young lady!" Henry exclaimed, still maintaining his mock shock, with a hand dramatically placed over his chest.

"For the record, I’m a singer/songwriter. And you might call him a nerd now," you began, shaking your head with a mischievous smirk, "but he's the hottest and sexiest Superman. Ever." You cast a teasing glance at your daughter and playfully wiggled your eyebrows.

"Ew, ma. Stop it," Mari responded.

"Thank you, darling," Henry smiled at you, his expression still a bit theatrical.

"So, wait…" Mari began, a mischievous glint in her eye, "You mean to tell me that you had to fit in that Spandex?" She magically had promo photos pulled up on Google on her smartphone, then showing her parents a GIF from over 20 years ago.

"We're home!" Sisi's voice echoed from the front door as it swung open. Vivi, Savi, and your youngest and only son, Teddy, trailed after her. 

"In here!" Henry called out. 

"What a dish!" You exclaimed with a playful groan as you stared at the photo on Mari's phone, as if it were a mouthwatering treat. Henry burst out laughing while Mari grimaced in sheer disgust, and Henry joined in with an exaggerated groan.

"I no longer look like that," Henry said, his tone carrying a hint of disappointment and nostalgia.

"No, you don't," Mari chortled, and Henry playfully smacked her on the arm.

"Of course you don't, Hank. You're hotter now. Total DILF," you said, walking over to Henry, playfully wiggling your eyebrows before leaning down to kiss him.

"Ew, please. I beg of you both. Stop it!"

"What's a DILF?" Sisi asked with a scowl as the kids flooded into the kitchen, giving their parents each a hug and a kiss.

"Please don't ask them, you don't want to know," Mari answered.

"Yes, I won't say either because the last word is a curse word," Henry snorted.

"How was school?" You asked your kids as they all settled down, and you began bringing out their afternoon snacks of cookies and milk.

"Oh, I thought we were having cupcakes!" Vivi said disappointedly.

"That's for my bake sale tomorrow," Sisi quipped.

"Can we at least have one each, ma?" Teddy asked, and who were you to say no to your husband's mini version? 

You handed out a cupcake to each of your children while Henry began pouring milk into their glasses. 

When everyone was happily eating and chatting, Mari filled her younger siblings in about their dad's (not-so) secret, and all your children gave their Papa surprised and then disgusted looks, resulting in a few more laughs.

Henry leaned in to whisper in your ear. "Do you mean it, darling?"

"What?" you asked, playing coy.

"That I'm a total DILF?" He raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on his lips.

"Of course I do, Superman," you giggled, and he groaned before he kissed you, twirling you around as if you were dancing. The kids started groaning in fake disgust at their parents' display of affection.

Tag list:

@jyessaminereads @summersong69 @itsrubberbisquit @sweetandgentlecreature @kingliam2019 @leaveitbythewave @mrsevans90 @evansabove1981 @bascmve01 @shellyshellshell @iamsana @foxyjwls007 @one-sweet-gubler @henryownsme @angelcavill66

[jisungsdaydreamer]

Love Playlist #2: UGH! (Bang Chan)

«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME» 

"Shut the fuck up."

Pairing: Bang Chan x fem!reader Genre: college au, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, forced proximity Warnings: swearing, mc has autism, misogynistic behavior (not Bang Chan), implications of ableism, bullying, short panic attack description Word Count: 11k

P.S. ♡ If you like my work, please consider giving me feedback in the form of reblogs, comments, and asks! ♡

It’s a truth universally acknowledged that you hate Christopher Bang’s guts. Everything about him, you hate. The utter laziness that he masks as nonchalance? The “happy-go-lucky” attitude that borders on bullheaded recklessness? The way every single time you text him about something important, he never replies? You hate it all. He’s irresponsible, aimless, completely unreliable, and you hate him.

Chris believes that the whole world revolves around him, and unfortunately, he would be correct. With dimples that rival Harry Styles’s and saccharinity biologically embedded in him, his good looks and charismatic personality blind everyone to the truth. Everyone except for you, of course.

Even if all of the supreme powers in the universe held you over an eternal chasm and forced you to find compromise, you still wouldn’t be able to stop hating him. And you hate heights— almost as much as him— so that’s saying something. Your hatred for him will never, ever waver. You hate Chris Bang, period. And you hate him even more now, as he stands next to you and accepts an honor that should solely be yours.

“Congratulations, Chris and Y/N!” 

You keep clapping and plaster on a fake smile to save face, trying to ignore the rage bubbling inside of you. In your peripheral vision, you sense Christopher laughing and shooting finger guns towards people in the audience, like some kind of corrupt politician. In a way, he is one, because you should have won this election. But you didn’t.

“In all of our history, never has there been an exact voting tie between two candidates.” The sickeningly cheerful announcer bounds closer to where you are standing on the stage, gesturing towards you both. “Everyone, please give another round of applause for our new Student Co-Presidents!”

Hearing it officially made you feel nauseated. For the three years you’ve been a college student, you have worked tirelessly, day and night, so this moment could come to fruition. All of those days filled with nonsense— schmoozing to all of the seniors in the Undergraduate Student Council, attending the endless number of tedious mixers to make connections, standing in the rain trying to raise funds for the organization— were going to be worth it, because in the end, you had one goal: to be student body president. 

But your dreams were dashed to the ground when he strolled in like a supermodel. While you were toiling since you were a freshman, Chris showed up at the final student council meeting at the end of last year, expressing his intentions to run for president in the following academic semester after the summer. Chris’s charm threw off the projectile of the election, compared to how although you carry yourself very well professionally, you still are very socially uncapable. Making engaging small talk about the weather or joking about frat parties on campus are unthinkable tasks for you, while that kind of conversation is exactly Chris’s forte. 

You know that you’re lucky that you at least get part of the title, because while on paper you are more qualified than Chris, the game was never in your favor. And seeing it all happen by the cursed will of the one person you’ve despised more than anyone else, since you were a kid, makes it hurt more than anything.

“Great job, partner.” 

You’re snapped out of your disturbed musings by the aforementioned person, who beams and stretches out his hand towards you. You’re wary of the gesture, but accept it anyway, making sure to squeeze his hand extra hard. 

“Same to you, Christopher,” you retort, adding an unmistakable bite to your words.

The smile doesn’t fade off of his face as he coolly shakes his aching hand off from your death grip. “I go by Chris, you know that.”

You nearly snort, but refrain from it, because people are watching. You do not need any negative publicity right now, especially next to your co-counsel who seems to do no wrong. But that won’t stop you from being discreetly petty. “Okay, Christopher.”

You hate Chris, and he knows it. But his elated expression doesn’t budge as he merely moves away from you to spark conversation with the announcer, who looks at Chris with literal hearts in her eyes. One more thing you hate: no matter how much you try to rile him up like he does to you, he never gives you a reaction. That satisfaction solely belongs to him. 

Rolling your eyes, you shove past him as gracefully as you can, eliciting a surprised grunt out of him. As Chris rubs his side behind you, you turn to the students coming closer to congratulate you, the smile on your face very much genuine now.

“He left me on read! AGAIN. Can you believe the audacity?” 

The smoky, herbaceous scent of freshly brewed coffee and sugary fragrance of baking breakfast pastries does nothing to soothe your anger. Your unadulterated complaints ricochet off of the walls of Morningstar Coffee House, your go-to place when you need to feign study in order to hang out with your best friend, a devoted employee-in-training at the place. 

Soobin groans, dumping out the latest batch of long macchiato into the sink. “I keep messing it up.”

“Are you even listening, Soobin?” You lean against the counter that he’s behind, wiping up the small drops of milk that escaped the carton in his hasty panic to master the art of being a barista. 

“Yes, yes, I am, sorry. Please continue.” Soobin sets aside his blender and folds his hands on the granite, looking at you earnestly. 

You pick at the chipped dark purple polish on your nails. “I can work with him. I can. Because I’m a professional. But he makes it so hard when I’m trying to communicate with him.”

Soobin shrugs. “Maybe he’s just not using his phone right now.”

With a frustrated sigh, you shake your head. If only everyone could be as sweet and guileless as Soobin. He always sees the best in people, and while you’re not a pessimist, it’s hard for you to find the good in Chris’s character. 

“It’s not just the text thing, even though I really do need him to tell me if he’s finished the nominations for the ethics board. It’s like, he doesn’t give a crap about anything, especially when it comes from me.” 

Soobin nods slowly, wrinkling his nose in thought. “I know he’s difficult. But just keep rising above. Getting upset hurts you, not him.”

As always, Soobin remains the voice of reason behind your storms, your eternal complement. When you need to cry your emotions out, he welcomes you with open arms. When he’s too shy to ask for the dessert menu at restaurants, you will signal for the waiter. When you make your displeasure apparent, he induces a degree of rationality into your vexed mind. That said, fundamentally, both of you are introverts. At the end of the day, you love nothing more than to curl up on the couch and watch knitting tutorials on Youtube with Soobin. Opposites or not, you fit each other like a glove. 

“I love you, cucumber,” you say, affectionately poking fun at your best friend’s towering height. 

Soobin’s cheeks turn light pink, and he swats your hands away. “You’re weird.”

You tip your head back and laugh, while Soobin grins and resumes his duties in trying to figure out how to work the cash register. You can feel the worries already lifting in your chest, because who cares about Chris, anyway? Certainly not you. 

But as if you had spoken of the devil, you hear the jingle of the shopkeeper’s doorbell, followed by that familiar boisterous guffaw. The sound makes you whirl around, the tension soaring back into your shoulders. And there he is, sauntering into the café with his trusty entourage trailing. 

Your narrowed eyes meet Chris’s, and he pauses in the middle of whatever obnoxious joke he must have been sharing. For a brief moment, a telepathic duel sparks between you both, a challenge to see which one of you will be the first to crack. You win, when he breaks eye contact to go and find a seat with his friends in the lounge area. But once more, it doesn’t feel that way, because while he’s resumed his own activities, you’re still thinking about him. So much for rising above. Damn it. 

“Soobin, you need to scan your employee ID first or else sales won’t be attributed to you. We already went over this.”

The voice of Seungmin, the son of Morningstar’s owners and your fellow university student, halts your deliberations and thankfully pulls your thoughts away from Chris. Seungmin is inside from his break and stands there besides Soobin, scolding him for making another mistake in his practice transaction before the evening rush. 

“Right! Sorry about that.” Soobin shakes his head and exhales, grabbing a towel to wipe his sweaty hands.

“You’ll be fine. Just keep at it.” Seungmin softens, patting Soobin on the back before making his way over to where Chris is sitting. Because of course, Chris is friends with every single person in existence.

Another person enters the building, prompting the telltale ring to go off. Soobin’s perpetual flush morphs into a crimson, and you immediately turn to see which newcomer has got your best friend so hot and bothered. You’re met by the sight of a very pretty girl who you recognize, but whose name escapes you. However, you know the boy she has walked into the coffee house with— her best friend, Han Jisung, who is unsurprisingly another member of Chris’s glorified posse. 

“You have got to be kidding me.” You raise your eyebrow at Soobin, who is still watching the girl with a lovelorn look in his eyes.

“What?”

“You can’t like her. She and Jisung have a thing.”

“They’re just friends,” Soobin says, frowning, but you can see the contradicting doubt written across his face. “Maybe I’ll talk to Seungmin and see what’s up.”

You take his hand and resign, because other times, both of you have to learn your lessons on your own. “You’ll make someone’s heart beat as fast as they do your own. Whether it’s her or not.”

Soobin swallows, fully directing his attention back to you. “The same to you as well. ”

You let out a playful snort, thinking of your one short-lived romance from freshman year. You haven’t dated since, deciding to set relationships aside so you can focus better on your studies. You cannot take the chance of losing precious time, time that can only be allotted to your favorite person, work, and nothing else. Besides, you’ve never been very good at flirting— let alone finding friends— anyway. 

“But I think Chris raises your pulse rate enough, so maybe you’ve got your plate full for now.”

“Don’t start,” you warn, the annoyance picking up again. Soobin sends you a cheeky smile, before he attends to his peckish customers. 

You take the opportunity to make your way back to your table in the front of the cafe, your favorite little spot that overlooks the lush campus lawn, and then past the historic buildings of your university, the faint city skyline. The trees have begun happily shedding their leaves like multicolored tears that dot the outdoor expanse, embracing Autumn like a long-lost lover. Today is gorgeous, a day that should feel like a blessing, and yet, you feel blue.

The reason for your melancholy approaches your carefully curated bubble and pops it, sitting down at the table, uninvited. 

“Hey, I didn’t see you at the election after-party the other day.”

Chris’s voice is calm, so you merely clench your jaw and keep from saying anything too unintelligible. “Hey, you read my text and didn’t reply today.”

He doesn’t let the sheepishness cross his features, but has the decency for it to manifest in a light red at the tips of his ears. “I was going to, sorry. I’ve been busy.”

You just can’t help the venom that laces your next words. “You always are.”

Chris shakes his head, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t get why you always have a problem with me.”

You allow yourself a sharp intake of breath before divulging your current frustrations with him. “I really, really need you to answer me when I ask you something. We represent all of the students in our college. We can’t afford to mess this up.”

Chris rolls his eyes at your words, which makes you even more irritated. “I know.”

“Great. Then we have nothing else to discuss.” You slip your laptop back into your carrier and zip up your backpack, grabbing your phone and pushing your chair in. You don’t spare Chris a glance as you walk towards the door. 

“Why can’t we just be friends like before?”

You tense at Chris calling out, but don’t look back to face him. “You should know the answer to that.”

“I really don’t.”

With a scoff, you leave him hanging, pushing open the door and finding somewhere you can actually study without distraction.

It’s only the second day of fourth grade and you already feel so out of place. You moved here  over a month and a half ago, in the middle of summer, so you had a lot of time to get used to the town and explore your new home. You enjoyed biking around the neighborhood cul-de-sac all day and discovered a clearing in the woods behind your house, immediately claiming it as your personal hideout. After your parents hosted some of your neighbors’ families for dinner, you even established friendly relations with Soobin, the impossibly shy son of the couple next door. 

But your expeditions in school haven’t been as successful. As soon as you stepped into the classroom, it seemed like everyone already had their own friend groups, less than willing to take on a newbie like you. Because all of the seemingly “cool” kids have claimed all of the seats in the back, you sit up front, the desk next to you empty. And although Soobin also attends the same school, he’s in a different homeroom than you, so your in-school interactions are limited to hallway waves and nothing else. To top it all off, your teacher is already talking about long division. What in the world is that?

“Would you like a pudding?”

You turn around to pinpoint the hushed voice that has interrupted the independent classwork time that your teacher allotted. The owner sits right behind you, this kid with dimples and mischievous eyes. You can’t recall his name from when your teacher took attendance in the morning, but you remember him singing a little rhyme to his friends during lunch yesterday. It was cheesy.

The boy holds out a small cup of what looks like Jell-O snack pudding towards you. You accept it, slightly confused at the random gesture. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He folds his hands on his desk, math practice discarded to the side. “You looked hungry.”

He’s watching you intently, waiting for you to eat the pudding. With a sigh, you open and try it, because you are kind of hungry. As soon as your lips gingerly close around the tiny spoon, you grin, because it’s chocolate— your favorite.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Chris,” he replies, obviously delighted by your reaction to the pudding. “Are you new?”

You smile, relieved to finally see a friendly face in your class. “Yeah, I am. Thanks for the pudding.”

“I don’t go anywhere without my trusty pudding cups.”

You don’t say anything, just quietly observing him while savoring the pudding. Chris is a little weird, and maybe too friendly. You're usually careful about this kind of socialization, but he doesn’t seem like a bad person. Chris takes your silence as an opportunity to keep chattering away.

“I notice you sit alone at lunch. You should eat with my friends and me today!” Chris exclaims, earning him a look from your teacher, but he doesn’t notice.

You pretend to contemplate his offer, although you’re secretly elated at the invitation. “Maybe if there’s more pudding.”

“Deal.”

“It looks like the faculty advising problem is sorted. Anything else?” 

The Dean of the college closes his laptop and pushes the pair of glasses perched on his nose for the hundredth time in the past hour. The lenses are huge, magnifying his eyes and making them look bugged-out, adding a comical element to his otherwise stony face.

“I was thinking—” You start, taking out your notepad, but the Dean cuts you off, looking at Chris.

“Chris, did you have anything you wanted to say?” 

Your cheeks as you avert your gaze shamefully, and all of the other students in the conference room awkwardly stare down at the table. The Dean doesn’t seem to notice your discomfort, however, just intently staring at Chris. For the entire board meeting, you actively participated and made your voice heard, while taking into account others’ concerns and viewpoints. 

Meanwhile, Chris had done nothing but squint at the papers in front of him and pretend he knew what was happening. But you’ve always been underestimated just because you’re a woman, and the fact that you’re the only female student body president in the entire history of your university doesn’t help. Of course the Dean would value Chris’s thoughts more. Anyone would. 

“Actually, Y/N was saying something. We should let her finish,” Chris replies firmly, shocking you. You thought Chris would just take the opportunity to shine for himself, not hand it to you.

The Dean looks taken aback as well, but he nods slowly. “Very well then.” 

Everyone’s attention snaps to you, but you quickly recover and recollect yourself, turning on the professionalism you reserved for moments like this. “Yes. Thank you.”

You open your computer and quickly login, plugging it into the projector so everyone can view your screen. You had already pulled up your presentation and graphics, ready to present your idea. 

“What is all of this, Miss Y/L/N?”

You take a deep breath. “A prevailing issue that has come to the board’s attention is the food insecurity on campus. To solve this issue, I propose the University Food Pantry, to relieve hunger through the acquisition and distribution of food to those students who most need it. We need to lead our campus community in the fight against hunger.”

The rest of your audience looks intrigued, but the Dean doesn’t seem convinced. “And how does this concern me? I oversee educational affairs at the college, not what’s cooking for dinner.”

“Our university is, above everything else, a community. The difficulty of higher education is further compounded when hunger is a constant presence.” You try your best to keep your suave composure, ignoring the smug condescension in the Dean’s voice. “As a result, the Food Pantry will envision a campus in which every student, regardless of their socioeconomic status, has sufficient access to nutritious food. No one should have to make financial and dietary decisions in pursuit of a good education.”

“It all sounds expensive. Where would you even get the money from?”

You know that the Dean expects you to be thrown off by his question, but you’re ready. You switch through the slides of your presentation, showcasing the several charts and graphs you stayed up all night drawing. “The Dean’s Assistance Fund, through which the Pantry can provide flex allowances to undergrad recipients of Financial Aid.”

The Dean leans back in his chair, brooding silently while you wait for his answer with bated breath. But Chris speaks up instead.

“This is really good, Y/N,” Chris says, astonishing you even further. “The fund could finance other initiatives in collaboration with the pantry as well, like the university Meal Share app that my friend Jisung coded. He’s in the computer science department.”

“Thanks,” you say warily, still in disbelief that you have both his support and enthusiasm. The other students murmur in agreement, but it doesn’t feel real, getting along with Chris. 

Immediately, the Dean sits up, directing his gaze to match Chris’s. “A wonderful idea, Chris. We must talk further about this. Perhaps—”

It’s Chris’s turn to cut the Dean off. “It wasn’t my idea, it was Y/N’s, if you were listening to her at all, sir.”

The Dean looks embarrassed after being put into his place by the very student he was chatting up to, but you don’t give him time to say anything else, taking the chance to continue speaking. 

“Of course, we can’t be fully financed by the Dean’s fund, so I think the university board should put forth a collective effort to apply for the Park Grant, an international system that funds programs that address student reform.”

“You’ve put so much thought into this, Y/N,” Mina, one of the board members, says with a smile. 

You light up, forgetting the Dean’s less-than-enthused demeanor. “Thank you so much!”

The Dean sighs, staring up at the ceiling, but shrugs, inclining his head in reluctant approval. “The Park Grant deadline is in two days. You’ll have to write up the proposal and present it to the panel.”

You nod vigorously, already mentally adding it to your calendar. “Thank you sir, I know. I won’t disappoint you.”

The Dean points his pretentiously expensive fountain pen at Chris, directing your gaze to his. “But you’ll be presenting with Chris. You’ll oversee this endeavor together.”

Your soaring heart crashes, and you sit up in indignation, because of course there’s a catch. After undermining all of your efforts, the Dean would never trust you to do something like this on your own. And out of everyone, it has to be with Chris.

“Sir, I truly believe I can finish this on my own.” You can barely contain the anger quaking in your throat, but you give it one last attempt.

Chris glances at you and dips his head in accord. “I agree, sir. Y/N is perfectly capable. This is her project, after all.”

“Let’s not go near what our capabilities are. I am very well aware of what your abilities are.” The Dean’s words jab you in the chest one by one, making you wonder if he could go any lower. “You both are co-presidents. Do it together or don’t do it all.”

“Sir—”

“Please give me a chance—”

Both you and Chris are cut off by the Dean’s cold sneer. “That will be all.”

With the wave of his gnarled hands, the meeting is over, and the rest of the students exit as fast as they can to escape the tension, while you just sit there, staring at your black computer screen blankly. A moment later, you collect yourself, grab your belongings, cramming them into your arms, and run out of the room, trying not to cry all of your frustrations out, right then and there.

“Y/N, stop!” Chris calls out from behind you, and you groan inwardly. And of course he has to be there. You can’t even fall apart in peace.

“What do you want, Chris?” You sigh exasperatedly, turning to face him, even though all you really want to do is give him the finger and run back to your room.

The tension is palpable, and you see Chris’s concern. You don’t want it, though. You don’t want his concern, his sympathy, or his friendship. You just want to never see him again, but unfortunately, the universe will not let that happen. You should have accepted that when it put you through elementary, middle, and high school, and even college with him. 

“I’m sorry. I- I tried,” he says, running his fingers through his hair, combing through it before the soft, blond locks flop back into place on his forehead. He looks more beautiful than ever, the sorrow in his deep brown eyes and painted into the pout on his perfect lips. But God, you hate him.

You swallow, taking a step forward. Chris’s eyes widen in surprise, but he stays still as you proceed in an eerily calm voice. “Outside of work, don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Don’t even think about me. I hate you, Chris, and I wish you never existed.”

For the first time, Chris is speechless, but you walk away, feeling anything but triumphant. You don’t want to see the hurt splayed across his face. And you don’t want Chris to see your own pain, the ugly root that digs deep into your heart and surges through your fingertips, the pain that has been there since the moment he took something from you. You hate Chris, and that will never, ever change.

“Come on, Soobin, tell me,” you whine, lightly kicking your legs at Soobin’s, where they hang over the edge of the treehouse you both built with your dads a few summers ago. The June weather is hot and sticky, and on days like this, you both like to climb up here and try to catch the faintest breeze that may come your way, ice creams in your hands and stories to trade on your lips.

Soobin coughs awkwardly. “Absolutely not, Y/N.” 

Tomorrow is the last day of middle school, and you’re determined to guess Soobin’s crush. You smirk at him, elbowing him in the side. Today, you suck on a blueberry popsicle, deliberating while trying not to let the dessert drip down your arms. 

“It’s the girl in your history class, isn’t it?”

“Nope.” Soobin side eyes you curiously, biting down on his own fudge ice cream cone. “Well, maybe I’ll tell you if you tell me yours.”

You blush, your mind immediately going to Chris, the boy you’ve liked since forever. Although you’re best friends with Soobin, Chris is also one of your good friends at school. And not to mention, the cutest boy in your entire school. 

Besides Soobin, Chris is also the only other person you’ve told about your autism. You were always shy and awkward growing up, and Chris pulled you out of that shell. 

It’s also why you get so nervous before tests. Since the time you nearly dropped your computer before a science quiz in fifth grade, Chris always brings you pudding before class assessments. You were scared to tell him at first, because you have been bullied in the past about it, but he had been nothing but kind and understanding. He’s never forgotten to bring you a pudding cup, and he specifically brings chocolate-flavored ones only, because you once told him you liked them. 

“You can’t tell anyone,” you swallow the last chunk of your popsicle, crunching down on the sugary ice. 

“I promise.” Soobin sits forward eagerly, his melting ice cream cone forgotten.

“It’s Chris,” you say dreamily, a lovesick smile playing upon your lips. 

Soobin burst out laughing, elbowing you in the side teasingly. “I knew it!” 

You and Soobin start arguing about who was more obvious about their respective crushes, but the thought of Chris stays lingering in your mind and clouding your thoughts. His devilishly handsome looks but angelic personality. The way he brings you those damn chocolate puddings, unaware of how you got sick of the flavor a long time ago but keep eating them anyway, just to see the beaming smile on his face. 

“Tomorrow,” you exclaim randomly, right after Soobin finishes telling you about all of the teachers he will miss over the summer, the perfect student he is.

“What’s tomorrow?”

“I’m going to tell Chris that I like him. Tomorrow,” you declare, trying to keep your voice strong and purposeful.

Soobin just stares at you with his jaw hanging open, because while you aren’t as soft-spoken as him, neither of you are particularly forward. Especially not in regard to your romantic lives. You both are the duo that watches your lost loves from afar, not confronting them up close. You’re surprised at your uncharacteristic behavior too, because you pledged to never give a teenage boy the satisfaction of knowing the power they have over you, especially not someone popular like Chris. But then again, Chris is different. You know it.

“Are you actually serious right now?” Soobin asks, still in shock. “Like, are you joking?”

“I’m serious, Soobin. I really like him.” You toy with your stained popsicle stick. “If he doesn’t feel the same, then I can just move on.”

“Wow.”

“I know.”

He reaches over and gently pats you on the back, as if to comfort your nerves. “He’d be really dumb to not like you.”

You groan and flop onto your back, looking up at the dusty ceiling of the treehouse. Both of you just stay quiet for a moment, as you observe the soft cobwebs in the corners and the sunlight pouring through the cracks in the wooden rafters. You’re really going to do this.

“I’m still hungry.”

Soobin holds out his half-finished cone, little droplets of ice cream dripping onto the wood. “You can have the rest of this.”

“Thanks, Soob.” You accept his ice cream and both of you continue to reminisce about the school year and plan out everything you probably will never do during the summer, because both of you are master procrastinators.

But one thing you can’t put off is your revelation to Chris, and it’s going to happen. Which is why you find yourself trying to ignore the impending feeling of dread as you walk through the school hallways. Classes are over for both the day and the entire academic year itself, and there’s no better time to confess to your crush on the last day of school. That way, if something goes wrong, you can take the summer to recuperate and wallow in your humiliation. 

You weave through the students excited to trade their homework assignments for sunny days at the beach, with only one thought in your mind. Chris, Chris, Chris. You saw him in math class in the morning, and he looked so cute in his new Hawaiian-print shorts while he signed your yearbook for you. Now, you try to find him in the crowd, before he leaves and you’ll be unable to see him for another three months.

As you search, you’re momentarily snapped out of your Chris-induced daze when you bump into Jessi Ho in the congested hall. Knowing your luck, of course you would crash into the loser who constantly picks on Soobin for being shy. 

“Watch it, dumbass.” Jessi crosses her arms and flips her hair over her shoulder. Jay, her wannabe sidekick, gets up in your face, threateningly flashing the tattoos he got without his parents knowing. Although they look like a classic pair of bullies straight out of Mean Girls, you’re more irritated than intimidated right now. 

“I don’t have time for this.” You try to move past the terrible twosome, but Jay grasps your forearm roughly and pulls you back. You wrench your arm free and look at him in both disgust and confusion. “What the hell?”

“I’ll get to the point.” Jessi smirks, bringing her finger up to her head and pointing to her temple. “We know you’re impaired. Up here.”

Your blood freezes over like a river of ice, when Jessie emphasizes that specific word. Even though you’re not impaired, because autism isn’t an intellectual disability, you know what she means. She says it like an insult, like you’re the most useless of garbage, not worth a human being’s basic dignity. Jay bursts out laughing when he sees the horror on your face, slapping his distressed denim thigh like it’s the funniest joke he’s heard in the fifteen miserable years of his life. You just stumble back, shock and panic rising like a tidal wave in your chest. 

“W-what?”

Jessi cackles, clinging onto Jay like he’s her own walking cane. “How cute. She looks so lost.”

You shake your head, the tears building and your throat seizing in alarm. “How…?”

“A little birdie told me.” Jessi steps closer to you, and while every other time you are able to stand up to her, you can barely look her in the eye right now. “It all makes so much sense. Why do you barely talk to anyone but your pathetic bestie? You’re too scared. Why can you never sit still in class? You're just stupid.”

“That- that’s not how it works.” 

You’re grasping at straws, at a loss for words. Any other time, you’d have a snappy comeback ready. You know you struggle with social interactions, but you never thought of yourself as someone disruptive, or weird. You’re one of the highest achievers in your entire school, because sometimes, books make more sense than people. But now? You do feel stupid, exactly like Jessi said. And not because you’re autistic, but because you weren’t careful enough. You’ve been underestimated your entire life because you’re a girl, but now, you know you’ll also be an autistic girl to everyone else. Not who you are. And that’s why you tried your best to keep it on the down low, not because you felt embarrassed, but because this was a part of yourself that was entitled to you. Not anyone else.

“Sure, okay.” Jessi looks bored already, her eyes unfocused roaming the hallway, looking for her next target. “Whatever, stupid.”

Jessi slinks off without a second glance, and Jay follows suit, but not before doing a disgustingly inaccurate impression of autists, speaking gibberish slowly and exaggeratedly. You actually speak faster than other people, because you always say whatever is on your mind. But you don’t give a crap about them right now. Bullies like them will always have the worst to talk about others, and you would rather die than have them be the cause of your tears, ever. What’s really bothering you is who told them about your autism, and how that mystery person found out.

Swallowing roughly, you run over to the bathrooms, forgetting anything else. The only thing on your mind is not losing it in front of everyone. You will not give any of these people the satisfaction. Trying to keep your breathing even, you’re about to enter the bathrooms and relieve your emotions when you hear someone say your name. It doesn’t sound deliberate however, like you weren’t supposed to hear it.

You turn slowly, searching through the swaths of people walking, when your gaze lands on a small group of people gathered at the end of the hallway, a few lockers away from where you’re standing. And his back facing you, but you immediately recognize the person speaking. After the previous year of sitting behind him in Geometry class, you would recognize his curly locks perpetually dyed a soft blond and preppy polo shirt anywhere. Your ears perk up in interest, and while you feel horrible, you know one of Chris’s dimpled smiles would immediately brighten your stormy day, as they always did.

“Tell us the truth Chris!” You hear someone screech like an eager toddler, and you stop in your tracks like a deer in a traffic jam. It can’t be. 

“Fine, Y/N is autistic...”

Everyone around Chris bursts into uproarious laughter, and while you can’t see his expression, Chris begins saying something else that’s drowned out by all of the noise. It was Chris. He told everyone about your autism. Chris, the sweetheart who brings you pudding. Chris, the pretty boy who you have a hopeless crush on. Chris, your friend.

You stumble back and are pushed back into the after-school hallway rush, losing sight of Chris. But you already saw everything you needed to. It would have hurt less if it was anyone but Chris. But it wasn’t. You liked him. You trusted him. And he took that trust and stomped on it, shattering it forever. He took something from you. 

Your heart hardens as you blink away your tears. You mindlessly make your way outside, just in time to catch your bus home. Looking out of the window, with your time and your spirit petrified, you resolve to never, ever make the same mistake again. You will never again put your faith in someone who does not deserve it. 

“You look hungry.” 

You momentarily glance away from your laptop screen to shoot Chris a withering look that could scare a bear. Things are back to normal since your emotional confrontation after the Dean’s meeting. Your rude remarks and his annoyingly cooperative advances are both back for good.

“Shut the fuck up.”

The blistering ice in your voice doesn’t stop Chris from unzipping his backpack and pulling out one of his damn puddings. With a scoff, you turn back to your spreadsheet, taking care to shoot disgusting looks at Chris periodically. Chris just takes his time savoring his pudding, innocently watching your reactions like you’re a goddamn television set.

The hours pass by quickly; you get a good amount of work done, while Chris tries to be helpful by asking useless questions and doing nothing else. Typical. After finishing up a final follow-up email to the Dean’s much more tolerable secretary, you stretch out your arms with a yawn. The library will be closing in a few minutes.

“Where are you going?” Chris’s voice is interrogative as you stand up, like you owe him an answer, which makes you see red. If anything, he is the one who should be giving you an explanation, perhaps why he has to be such a two-faced monstrosity who wants to pretend everything is fine and in the past.

Screw civility.

“Oh, I’m sorry, your royal dopiness. I didn’t know I needed your permission to go home.” Your words are filled with a sickening sarcasm, and fortunately, it’s enough to shut Chris up.

You grab your belongings and stalk out of the personal meeting room that you reserved, barely noticing that everyone else sitting at the previously crowded study spaces has already left. Once in the security of the library bathrooms, you exhale all of the tension you’ve held inside of you and splash cool water onto your heated face. 

You stare into the mirror, seeing the same girl you’ve been trying to leave behind all of this time. You feel like that lost little girl trying to clutch the thought of someone who should be forgotten. You hate that you still have hope in you, that you’ve had it all of these years, that things can be fixed. You’ve tried, you really have. You’ve tried to leave the past behind you, to look forward and do exactly what needs to be done for your success. Here’s the truth: you act like a bitch towards Chris because he sucks and you hate him. Here’s another truth: you act like a bitch towards Chris because… you’re hurt. 

Especially because of your autism, you’ve had a more difficult run at making meaningful relationships. Your friendship with Chris meant that there was hope for you, and you truly believed that. But then he betrayed you, making you doubt yourself and your abilities. And following the incident, it felt like the world was working against you, and it still does. Maybe you could have healed with time, but the universe had other plans, taking care to put you through high school and college with Chris. And with your rotten luck, he’ll probably end up going to the same law school as you.

But you don’t have the time to worry about that right now. Your future depends on the present, and you’ll do your best to remember that. Your productivity mantra will keep you going, and nothing can stop you, from Christopher Bang to misogynistic old deans to… a locked bathroom door?

“What the hell?” You tug on the handle, but the door won’t budge. 

Fuck. 

You were so occupied with Chris that you forgot that after hours, all of the doors automatically lock to preserve campus security. Screw modern technology. You’re about to pull out your phone to try and call someone, but when your fingers meet an empty pocket, you realize you left it in your apartment. With an exasperated groan, you bang against the door as hard as you can and shout for help, even though you know it’s impossible for anyone to hear you and open the door from outside, the only way to free you. After a few minutes, you give up and slide down onto the floor, knowing you’ll have to spend the rest of this godforsaken night in this stuffy bathroom. Even if you somehow eventually gain the strength to bust this stupid door down, there was no getting past the padlocked main library doors. But seriously, which genius had the idea to lock the freaking bathroom doors? 

You close your eyes and place your hand over your heart, trying to calm yourself down. You’re perfectly safe. Alone in a big, empty library. Soon, the bathroom lights will shut down, probably. You wouldn’t know for sure, though. You’ve never been locked in the damn library bathroom before. Perhaps you’ll make friends with the old campus ghosts rumored to haunt this building. And maybe—

The click and turn of the door handle startles you, and you immediately jump out of the way, so your designated savior can let you out. And you’re not even surprised when your eyes meet Chris’s own confused ones. Because of course it’s Chris.

“Why are you still here?” You ask him in a slightly accusing tone, even though he literally has just helped you. You don’t even know why you feel the need to be so pointed, but you are nevertheless. 

“I was waiting for you to come back and didn’t realize the library was closed.” Chris lets out a sigh, rubbing his forehead as if it aches. You hope it does. “I have a question about the proposal.”

“Did you try calling someone? I forgot my phone.”

“Well, my phone doesn’t have any service.”

“Awesome.”

You don’t say anything further as you both exit the cramped corridor outside of the bathroom. In your hurry, you hadn’t even noticed how the librarians had turned off the lights, shrouding the building in darkness. Shivering, you subconsciously move closer to Chris, before you realize yourself and make sure to maintain a six-feet distance between your body and his.

“You can come closer if you’re scared,” Chris teases, noticing your discomfort. “We’re both stuck in this library together.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, please. You’re the one who’s scared of the dark.”

Both of you fall silent as the remembrance sinks in. The day you confided in Chris about your autism, he had shared a secret about himself in return, albeit a less serious one. He had an irrational fear of the dark since he was a small child, and you knew any other fourth grader would have made fun of him for it. You had felt happy, then, that he could confide in you. 

The inadvertent memory feels unwelcome, uncomfortable. Chris clears his throat and looks away. “Not anymore.”

You and Chris decide to make camp in the library common room, since although the main building lights wouldn’t work, there were a few soft table lamps you could turn on for some clarity. You set your backpack down on the carpeted ground and snuggle into the large armchair by one of the bigger lamps. You glance at the decorative grandfather clock in the corner of the room, and it’s just past midnight. At that moment, you really just want to go home, put on your favorite pajamas, and fall asleep while watching your list of comfort anime films. Definitely not being locked in the damn library with Chris Bang, of all people. Since when was your life an episode of Arthur?

“So, you wanted to ask me something?” 

Chris fiddles with his hands for a minute, before looking away. “Never mind.”

You don’t even have it in you to be annoyed at this point. You’re just exhausted. You fall back against the tough cushion of the chair. It feels like you’re sitting on a clothed bag of sawdust. But it’s better than being out there, in the dark. And you hate to admit it, but you’re glad that you have someone to share the company of an empty library with, even if it’s Chris. 

“God, I’m hungry.” You touch your stomach, feeling the gnawing emptiness there.

“Would you like a—”

“No, I would not like a pudding, Chris.”

The minutes eventually tick by, and you feel yourself nodding off. You had told yourself earlier that you would stay alert, but the drowsiness drapes over you like a blanket, lulling you into reluctant sleep.

The menacing roll of thunder snaps you out of your uneasy slumber like the sound of a car crash. Immediately, you double over and tuck your head into your arms, trying to breathe. Your hands, warmed from being pressed under your thighs, go clammy with a cold sweat, and you can feel the tears well, barely keeping them at bay. When your go-to breathing technique doesn’t work, you gasp for air, jerking in your seat at every new crack of thunder invading your perception. 

Immediately, Chris crosses the space between your chairs and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hold. Sometimes, thunderstorms cause you to have a sensory overload, and you can’t cope. Chris knows this about you, after you got severely spooked after one particularly bad storm in the middle of class in sixth grade. Chris continues to rock your body slowly with his, whispering calming nothings into your ear. Your breathing slows and returns to a normal pace, but Chris just keeps rubbing slow, comforting circles on your back. 

Soon, the sound of the thunder dissipates, but you’re not entirely sure if it’s actually because the storm ended or if it’s because the overwhelming scent of Chris’s fresh, minty cologne has taken over your senses. 

You look up at Chris, the boy you hate more than anything, and whisper the very last thing that you ever thought you would say to him. “Thank you.”

Chris just nods his head slowly while you untangle yourself from his hold. He gets the hint and lets you scoot away from him, but it’s not far enough. Mere inches separate you from Chris, Chris who helped you without second thought because you were having a panic attack. Forget every ounce of hostility you have shown him, he hugged you like he was your lifeline, which he nearly could have been. 

He looks at you intently, his eyes glistening with emotion. “Why do you hate me so much?”

He’s asked this question multiple times before. The first time was back on the very first day of high school, when you both had English class together, and you staunchly ignored him. He continued to ask you the same thing over and over again, until your lack of acknowledgement made him finally stop and accept your new attitude towards him. But even though you’ve heard this question before, this time feels different. There is a certain vulnerability to his words, like he’s given up and is pleading for one last chance. 

A part of you still wants to try and maintain the animosity you use as a protective barrier, so people can’t tell what you’re really feeling. But you’re just tired of it all, and the question tugs at you too. Maybe you need to reply out loud for both of you to hear, not just him. Maybe you need to affirm your hatred for the dumb boy who waited for you to come back from the bathroom and then held you during a thunderstorm. Or maybe you need to affirm the fact that you may not hate him as much as you think, but you still do. You don’t know. You hate him the most because you don’t know. So, for the first time, you answer him.

“You broke my trust, Chris.”

“When?” Chris looks genuinely perplexed, like he has no idea what you’re talking about. 

With a scoff, you glare up at the ceiling, unable to look him in the eye. “You told everyone about my autism. When I specifically said that I wanted to keep it a secret.”

He shakes his head in a vigorous panic. “I didn’t tell anyone. I promise I didn’t. I promise it wasn’t me.”

Then who was it? 

As if he hears your thoughts, Chris sighs and indulges them. “Jessi. She saw your aide and followed him to his office. She was telling everyone about it, I swear.”

And it makes sense. His explanation checks out, and this all could have been a grand misunderstanding on your part, because of course Jessi would have snooped into your business. You couldn’t save your privacy for long with someone like Jessi hovering. And the thing is, you’re not even surprised. You knew in your heart the entire time that you could have been mistaken, that it was strange that Chris would have violated you like that, but it was just easier to blame him for your pain instead of confronting it. Or so you thought.

“And when everyone found out, I tried defending you. I never, ever would want to hurt you. Please believe me.”

Chris’s eyes are shining with earnesty, and you know he’s telling the truth. But that doesn’t erase all of the years you were hurting. “Why didn’t you just tell me that?”

“It didn’t even occur to me that it was the reason you stopped talking to me. I’m sorry I didn’t try harder.”

You close your eyes and lean back. “Chris, you don’t have anything to be sorry about. This is on me.”

You feel your hatred towards Chris fade, and all there is left in you is a deflated pocket of sorrow. Your whole goal was to stay focused, but in reality, you’ve put so much time and energy into despising Chris. And that wasn’t the only way you hurt yourself. You also deprived yourself of what could have been a wonderful friendship.

“I do,” Chris insists, interrupting your thoughts. “I was stupid. I gave up so quickly. It hurt me too, not just you.”

You raise your head and tiredly gaze at him. Even in the dark, he looks beautiful. And it’s not merely his looks, but truly his character that shines through. You spent hours picking apart his personality, trying to find flaws and reasons to demonize him, not knowing that in the process, you were the monster yourself. You constantly complained about his lack of initiative and response, when in reality, you never let him actually do anything. You can’t even fathom why he’s being so understanding, or all of his attempts to work with you, even after your cold treatment of him.

“What do you mean, Chris?”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this.” Chris groans. “I used to like you. There.”

You perk up. Well, now you’re shocked. “Wait, really? I used to like you, too!”

There’s disbelief written all over Chris’s face. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

Both of you burst into laughter, like you weren’t having a heart-to-heart five minutes ago about hating the other. It feels good to laugh, and for a second, you’re transported back into fourth grade, when you first met Chris. 

When you were a kid, you barely laughed, which worried the crap out of your parents. The doctors said it was common among individuals with autism, but it didn’t seem that way when you walked around, unsmiling and unfeeling. You weren’t completely socially inept, or exactly shy, but you preferred to keep to yourself. And then Chris had offered you a pudding. You felt like friendship was worth something, then. You felt seen. And maybe that scared you a little bit, being on the edge with someone who made you feel so deliciously raw. Maybe that’s why you didn’t fight back for Chris, because you would rather leave than be left. 

Chris rakes his fingers through his hair, the ghost of a smile playing upon his lips. “You know, I still like you.”

“Very funny.”

“I do.”

“You’re crazy. Stop that.”

“Maybe.” Chris throws his hands up and then lets them fall back down. “I like you and don’t want to stop.”

“After how I treated you for the past eight years?” You nearly laugh with how ridiculous he’s being. Hell, if you were in his place, you’d hate yourself.

“But you were hurt. A lot.” Chris shrugs. “You’ve become this amazing woman. You’re… incredible. Hardworking, talented, smart. Keeping in mind how you truly believed I was the cause for your pain, you excelled in spite of the fact that the universe kept pulling us together.”

You shake your head. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s okay. I’ll say it for you.” Chris looks down at his palms. “I like you, and that’s why I became co-president and faked having no service on my phone so we would be stuck in a library together.”

“Chris—”

“Please. Don’t say no. Not after eight years of me pining for you, knowing you’d never look at me again. Knowing I was falling deeper every time you cursed at me. Please, Y/N. I want to know you again, and you to know me. Please.” Chris’s expression is begging, and it pains you even more. 

You still hurt, but it’s a different kind of torture. It’s the kind of hurt that’s the result of yearning, the kind of yearning that stems from hatred, subjugated love, and uncertain acceptance. It’s the kind of hurt that tells you that you don’t deserve him. He deserves someone who isn’t a complete and utter coward. Someone who hasn’t been completely and utterly in love with him all this time, but too stubborn and too pained to admit it. Someone who isn’t completely and utterly awed by the magnificent man he is, but too bitter to say it. 

Chris reaches out his hand and places it on the side of your face, imploring you with his hesitant palm. You melt into his touch, when a mere few hours ago, you would have slapped it off of you. His skin is warm against yours, and the softness radiating from him pulls at you. You want to say yes. You want to open a blank page in the book. You want to start fresh with this beautiful boy in front of you.

“I’m sorry.” And you’re not just apologizing for pushing him away before, but now too. You don’t get to have him. 

“Just… why?”

“I can’t. I’m so sorry.” The repeated dialogue from you has a note of finality that even Chris’s insolence can’t break through. 

And just like that, all of the bridges you both repaired come crumbling down, but this time, it’s on purpose. You’ve always been quick to make decisions, never mulling over a choice for too long. You loved Chris. You hated Chris. You still love Chris. But you reject Chris. It’s easy to do, like one computer command after the other. But then Chris retracts his touch and wordlessly gets up from the armchair, curling up into his original position in the other chair. He’s facing away from you, you feel like you’ve struck an error message. The hours pass, and the softly snoring form of Chris reminds you of a blaring bad request, a pile of code that just won’t compile. Eventually, your computer shuts down too, and you share a temporary commonality with Chris when you fall asleep.

“Wake up dear.”

Your eyes fly open, and you sit up. Natural light pours in through the big windows, and you can feel your skin drinking in the sunshine. The librarian’s kind eyes are watching you with worry, but all you can think of is the night before. Perhaps it was all a dream. You were angry at Chris and then fell asleep after coming back from the bathroom. End of story. But then you feel that familiar ache in your heart, and you know you weren’t hallucinating everything that transpired between you both.

You turn to look at the librarian, who still seems immensely concerned, especially with your disoriented morning look. “I’m sorry, where is Chris?”

“He just left a few minutes ago, sweetheart. I was opening up for the day, when I saw him waiting to be let out at the front entrance. Nearly scared the life out of me.” The librarian places her hand on your shoulder. “He told me you were here.”

The librarian rushes off to her personal office to make you some tea, and you’re left alone in the common room. And no one else is here either, because today is Saturday and your university is supposed to be hosting a football game against a rival school. You look down at your body and notice a jacket wrapped around your body, one that definitely isn’t yours. You don’t have an expensive leather jacket that smells like Tom Ford cologne. It was freezing last night because the library doesn’t have heating, and Chris must have woken up in the middle of the night and draped it on you. You feel another pang in your heart as you think of Chris leaving without speaking to you. You deserve it, though.

As you sadly walk out of the library, you decide to skip the game even though as student body president, you should be there, representing the school. You reach your off-campus apartment, the one that you were so excited to finally lease a few months ago, and sprawl onto your couch, already feeling weary of the day. Nevertheless, you fish your phone out of the jumble of couch pillows and call Soobin, because he must be worried sick. You always text him goodnight before you sleep, and yesterday must have been the first time you didn’t.

“How could you?” He’s angry, a new color on him.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. The library—” You start, but Soobin doesn’t let you finish.

“Forget the library! I’m talking about Chris. He’s stepping down from the president role because of you, Y/N!” Soobin screeches into the phone, making you shoot up in alarm.

“What?!”

“I overheard him tell everything to Jisung. Y/N, this is wrong.” Soobin sounds calmer, but nonetheless distressed. “I know you love him. You shouldn’t let this happen.”

Your face heats up in surprise. “How—”

You hear Soobin tsk, and you just know he’s shaking his head, disappointed. “I didn’t even have to hear him talk to know that. There’s a fine line between love and hate. You can never stop talking about him!”

There’s no denying it now. You shouldn’t have underestimated Soobin; no matter how silly he can be, he is your best friend in the whole world after all. And maybe all the time, the only one you were lying to was yourself. 

You grab a pillow and cradle it, just wanting to cry it all out. You always have more intense feelings than others, but right now, your heart hurts so much that you doubt you can blame being emotional on your autism. 

“Soobin, what do I do? I don’t want to hurt him, but…” You sniffle. “I didn’t even give him a chance to explain himself. For eight years, I made my whole personality hate Chris. And now, he forgives me and I accept it? I’m so stupid, God.”

“I agree you’re stupid.”

“You’re not making me feel better!”

“Sorry.” Soobin sighs. “But you need to get over yourself and your drama. Stop making this harder for both of you, and just be grateful that you haven’t lost him. Yet.”

And with that, he cuts the call in a way very unlike Soobin, making you groan out loud in frustration. Now you want to punch your pillow, because your best friend is absolutely right.

It doesn’t take long for you to find Chris in the packed stadium. Through the throngs of students eager to trade their homework for a good home game, you see him standing with one of his friends in an upper corner of the stands. When you were younger, you were obsessed with Greek mythology and thought that Chris looked like Apollo, the god of the sun, with his golden curls and sunny disposition. Today, his light seems to have dimmed, as he watches the ongoing game with his hands shoved into his pockets and a forlorn look marking his gaze. 

“Chris!” You shout to try and get his attention, but it’s to no avail. The cheering crowd is ear-splitting, and you have no other choice but to climb up to the top.

Grunting, you hoist yourself up the steep stairs and try not to look behind you. If you do, you’ll fall off the stands with dizziness, which would be slightly undesirable compared to what you have to do next. Slightly. With the final step, you haul into Chris’s row, catching your breath and a first glimpse at how high up you really are. The players on the field look like tiny ants, and you feel your stomach drop. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. 

But it’s too late to turn back now, because Chris has already spotted you and hurries over. You tense and lose your footing, stumbling over someone as they kick their legs in anticipation. Great. 

“What are you doing here?” Chan places a toned arm around your shoulders and pulls you up, leading you to his seat. You clumsily collapse into the solid, curved plastic of the chair, and Chris follows next to you.

You then notice Chris’s friend, a heartbreakingly handsome man who you vaguely remember as Minho from your sophomore year literature class. He’s wistfully gazing at a very pretty girl who is chatting with Terry, Soobin’s old roommate, a few rows down. Minho then becomes aware of your presence and hurriedly excuses himself, rushing out of the aisle and disappearing into the crowd. You turn to Chris.

“Is he okay?”

Chris exhales, running his fingers through his hair, combing through it before the soft locks flop back into place on his forehead. “I… Minho’s just going through some stuff right now.”

“Seems like he’s not the only one.” You toy with your ring, twisting it around your finger. “I heard you’re resigning.”

“Who told you that?”

“Soobin. He was eavesdropping on you and Jisung today in Morningstar,” you respond. “Why are you leaving the role?”

Chris looks away from you and out at the field. Your university’s football team still hasn’t scored. “I’d just be in your way. This is for the best, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way. Please don’t. I need you.”

“You’ll be fine.”

This is what you thought you wanted all along, a world without Chris in it. Besides Student Council, neither of you share any classes or activities this year. If he left, you wouldn’t have to cross paths with him again. You could run the council well on your own, you know that. But you don't want to. You don’t ever want to imagine a world without Chris. He’s been by your side for so long now, and now when he’s about to step away do you truly realize how much you need him.

“Maybe. But I won’t be happy.” Against your better judgment, you reach over and grasp his hand, making Chris start in surprise.

Chris shakes his head, still skeptical. “All I’ve ever done is make you unhappy, Y/N. You don’t want me to be around.”

You sigh, knowing he’s not going to come around, not without the right kind of persuasion. “I was dreading having to do this.”

“Do what?”

You reach into the small purse hanging off of your shoulder and pull what you had scoured the entire city for in the past few hours. “Would you like a pudding?”

Chris looks bemused, staring down at the small cup of chocolatey goodness in the delicate palm of your hand. 

“Or do you want a kiss?” You stare at Chris intently, trying to ignore the whammering beat of your heart. “What will it take for you to stay in your position?”

“W-what?”

“Or I could be your girlfriend. Because I really want to see where this goes.” You take a deep breath. “A bunny once told me that I just need to get out of the past. I’ve left it behind, and I’m looking forward, Chris.”

“Fine.” Chris swallows roughly and bites back the slow smile spreading on his features. “Can I have all three?”

“You never make it easy, do you, Chris?” 

Before he can quip back at you, you grasp the collar of his t-shirt and tug him to you, your lips meeting just as the home team finally scores a touchdown and the crowd erupts in applause. You couldn’t care less though, because although the preteen you is jumping up and down like the rest of the cheering fans, the adult you is smiling into the lips of the man you definitely do not hate. Actually, you love him. 

Chris slings his arms around your waist and pulls your body closer to his, sweetly laughing into your ear when you both come up for air. “Am I a good kisser, or what?”

“Shut up.” 

And you’re kissing him again. Warmth blossoms in your chest, sparks igniting as you lean into each other after years of loving, hating, and longing. Your arms roving over each other coax all and any remaining hesitation left in you both, and it feels so right. You treasure the soft sighs of pleasure and elation spilling from Chris’s lips, his sounds more deafening than any overzealous football fan’s rally cry. 

“So, do I not get the pudding, or…?” Dimples cut across Chris’s cheeks as he pulls away from your lips once more just to shoot you a cheeky grin.

You roll your eyes playfully and reach into your lap, tearing open the foil wrapper on top of the pudding cup before handing it to him. “You and your pudding.”

“You know you love it.”

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[wrathofrats]

Seeing blind (you’re too good to be all mine)

Chapter 3! 3k, Teen audiences, no warnings apply

(Part 1) (part 2) (as always thank you to my cowriter @divine-misfortune)

Read under the cut, or on ao3!

“Well the others are having a bonfire tonight, wanted to know if you wanted to come with me”

Rain hesitates for a second. It’s more than they’ve done, it’s actually going off the property together instead of their usual sneaking around the grounds. Besides, do the others even like him? Most he’s never spoken more than a couple words to but-

“Oh, actually I don’t know. Wouldn’t want you to get dirt on your gown play with the peasants, princess”

Rain gasps, shoving him lightly

“I’m fucking going”

“Rainy, gotta get up” Swiss shakes rain awake.

It’s early. Swiss knows the time he usually gets here by feel alone, leaving his apartment before the sun is up and stepping outside onto the gravel right as it starts getting bright.

Rain yawns in his arms, pushing away a bit with a lingering shame from sleeping on his chest last night.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” Rain asks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes,

Swiss has to lie, he can’t tell rain the real reason he couldn’t sleep and he would feel bad about it for no reason anyways.

“Of course I slept like a baby with you in my arms, but you better get inside fast before you dad comes back, just saw him behind the silo”

Rain rolls his eyes with a halfhearted shove to Swiss’ chest. He tries to hurry down the ladder, looking both ways across the yard and making a mad dash to run back inside.

Swiss knows he will be chewed out later. He hasn’t changed, looks like a mess and by now he’s probably considered late even if he hasn’t clocked in yet. It’s worth it for rain though.

Swiss keeps a couple spare blankets in his truck after that night.

Rain can’t keep himself away. Sure the loft is a thousand times more uncomfortable than his own bed but he has to admit that he hasn’t slept that good in weeks. He knows Swiss didn’t sleep, evident by the bags under his eyes and tired smile he had in the morning. Rain doesn’t want to keep Swiss up that late again, but he wouldn’t complain if it happened by accident another time or two.

Their usual game continues. Rain hanging around the barn too much with a flirty lilt to his voice while Swiss acts like he has no clue why rains there even if he does. It still puts butterflies in rain tummy to see him. They’ve kissed, they’ve spent the night together but those big brown eyes have him weak in the knees.

“Meet me at my truck at sun down ok?” Swiss says low in rains ear one day as he walks by to feed the cows. It’s quick and Swiss has disappeared onto his next task before rain can stop him and ask why. He will do it anyways, of course he will.

The day goes by slower than rain had hoped. Looking at the sun every couple of minutes and hoping it sets faster and faster but the anxiety only prolongs the time that it feels rain is waiting. The sky turns a pretty orange and pink as rain sits in his day bed by the window, reading. The perfect sign that it’s time to go.

He throws on his boots and heads down the stairs. If he can get outside before his dad comes back he won’t have to explain anything. Rain stops to grab an apple from the kitchen, knowing Swiss probably hasn’t eaten since noon.

The sky darkens into a pretty dusk with a cool breeze that smells like nothing but Autumn. Swiss is leaning on his truck when he approaches, watching the small sparkling dots start to appear as it continues to get darker.

“Hi tadpole, glad you made it” Swiss wraps his arms around rain from behind, earning a small giggle as he sways with him.

“What did you need me for?”

“Wanted to show you something” Swiss holds out his hand, motioning for rain to hop in the bed of his truck “just get in for me”

Rain steps up with a struggle, Swiss grabbing his waist instinctively to hold him steady and get him in. He tries not to linger on it but the blush that spreads across his cheeks instantly gives him away. If Swiss notices though, he doesn’t say anything, more focused on laying his spare blankets down for them to lay on.

“And what is it you’re showing me?” Rain snuggles into Swiss’ side. His head lays by his shoulder with Swiss’ arm around him, he continues to stare up at the sky, pointing at a group of stars.

“Do you see that v?” He traces a shape into the air, “and the little, like, circle at the end of it?”

Rain squints, trying to follow his finger.

“I think so?”

“That’s Pisces, the fish constellation” Swiss says, fascinated by how bright they get out in the country.

“Doesn’t look like a fish to me” rain says, still squinting and trying to make out the image in the sky

“Well, it’s not exactly supposed to. It just is.” Swiss laughs “and that orange dot on the border? That’s Jupiter. You can’t see it from my apartment with the light pollution, but here? It’s beautiful”

Rain had never seen Swiss so enamored before, a sparkle of wonder in his eye like a child with his first telescope. He traced another shape, some kind of cup, or a U. Thinking quietly to himself.

“And why did you show me that one?” Rain asked after a second.

“Well you’re my little fishy, tadpole. Thought it was only appropriate.”

Rain mumbles a shut up before going back to watching him trace shapes. He did have to admit that the sky was beautiful. An inky blackness full of dots of light and he could honestly sit here and listen to Swiss talk about it for hours if he was able to.

It starts to become more apparent that maybe Swiss really is a bad influence on him.

Rains sneaking out a lot more, staying out late to skip back inside before the sun comes up but other times he’s too caught up in Swiss to want to leave.

He can never bring himself to pull out of his arms, though he refuses to say that out loud. A part of him worries that Swiss is merely… amused by him and nothing else, and that’s why he has to dive headfirst into whatever they have going on. To him it may be entertainment and meaningless but rain has regretfully caught feelings.

Swiss doesn’t fare any better in his own doubts. He wants to love him, be by him every second of the day but there’s a fear hes going to scare rain off. He’s going to get too attached and rain will leave.

The best they can do is just stick around and hope the other doesn’t run.

Rain lingers outside more on Fridays.

The weekend is always bleak. Rain takes up the necessary daily tasks that can’t be left undone while he waits for Swiss to return. Even just not having the presence of any of the other workers makes it boring. Rain enjoys seeing dew and cirrus mess with each other as they work, or mountain picking phantom up to reach high things. It adds life where it’s otherwise just dirty and yellow in rains eyes.

He waits by the barn more just to get more glimpses of Swiss before he has to be without him for two days. It isn’t a lot in the grand scheme of things but to a love sick rain it always feels like he may never return.

“And what’s a pretty little thing like you doing tonight” Swiss leans against the wood with his arms crossed. Rain scoffs at his boldness, rolling his eyes.

“Well I’d say it depends on who’s asking”

“And what if it’s me who’s asking?”

“Well then I guess I’m free, maybe” rain taunts. Swiss steps closer to him to grab his hands and swing them together.

“Well the others are having a bonfire tonight, wanted to know if you wanted to come with me”

Rain hesitates for a second. It’s more than they’ve done, it’s actually going off the property together instead of their usual sneaking around the grounds. Besides, do the others even like him? Most he’s never spoken more than a couple words to but-

“Oh, actually I don’t know. Wouldn’t want you to get dirt on your gown play with the peasants, princess”

Rain gasps, shoving him lightly

“I’m fucking going”

His truck is parked far past the field and into the large gravel plot that a couple storage buildings sat on so nobody could hear his awful muffler. It meant rain had walk a bit further on his own, glancing at his watch periodically. Home before 5, and he would be in the clear.

Swiss’ truck was warm and smelled like hay and tobacco and the worn leather of his coat, mixed with the cheap cologne that he tended to wear. There was no center console in the truck. Just a long bench with an old rosary hanging from the mirror. Swiss plays an old cassette as they drive. It’s a lot of old rock and country and it’s so very him. Rain thinks his heart may burst right out of his chest, especially when he sings softly to the music. His voice is like silk and as sweet as honey and he wants to live in it forever. Honestly he tries not to stare but he’s not very good at it.

Swiss keeps seeing Rain's hand resting on the seat and he wants to reach for it but dutifully keeps his hands on the wheel

They drive up to a small house and park on the lawn, driving slightly back behind and out of the light of the street lamps. A small fire flickered nearby with a couple of beat up lawn chairs in a circle around it.

He opens the door to shocked faces. Never in the other workers lives did they expect Swiss to bring rain to one of their hang outs. They thought he wasn’t allowed off of the property, let alone be with them.

“Get locked out of your tower princess? Maybe someone can throw down their hair for you” dew calls once the initial shock wears off.

“Oh fuck off you’re only mad you’re shorter than him” Swiss called, grabbing his own chairs from the bed of his truck. There was a bit of protectiveness and possession to his voice that has rain frozen, biting his lip as he waits for Swiss to set up the chairs.

Rain attempts to sink into his chair. He feels shy, out of place, because the others are staring at him like he’s some kind of alien creature. But Swiss has his arm around him and he’s warm and smells nice, so he will be ok for a bit.

“Keep this warm for me tadpole, Coke or a beer?” Swiss shrugs off his flannel and throws it over rain’s shoulders as he squats beside him, waiting for an answer.

“Um” rain looks around to the various drinks in everyone else’s hands, mostly alcohol, “beer please”

Swiss slinks off into the house. Rain draws the flannel tighter around him, breathing in his scent. Rain could get used to that cheap cologne he thinks, especially if he plans on keeping the flannel forever, but he’d never tell Swiss that.

A cold glass bottle is placed in his hands once Swiss comes back. He throws rain his keys giving him an expectant look.

“Go ahead rainy, use that old silver one”

“Use it for what?” Rain holds them up, confused

“Oh my god he doesn’t know how to open a bottle” dew barks out a laugh “Swiss give that poor kid your Coke, Christ!”

Swiss grabs the bottle from rains hands, swiftly using his keys to pop it open with a smile.

“I’m driving you irresponsible idiot” Swiss rolls his eyes “besides, I wouldn’t be fucking talking considering mountain has to open yours because otherwise you do it with your teeth”

Dew yells back something that Swiss blocks out. He’s stupid, yes he’s his best friend but god he can be an obnoxious idiot. He turns to see if rain is ok, and is enamored. He looks pretty in the glow of the fire. The music is loud and the fire is roaring and Swiss has never wanted him to be here more.

Rain takes a sip of his beer, scrunching his nose at the taste. It’s bitter and rain doesn’t know if he can finish it but he keeps taking small sips anyways just so he doesn’t look like even more of a loser. Swiss absolutely notices, the tell tale sign of someone’s first beer and he knows he hates it, but it’s funny to watch him try.

It’s still early in the night. Phantom keeps asking mountain to identify different trees in the dark while mountain sighs and keeps the lightweight entertained. Dew and cirrus argue over god knows what, probably some game they caught earlier in the day.

Swiss randomly grabs rains beer from his hands, taking large swigs when he thinks no one will notice. He wants to help him finish it, doesn’t want to embarrass him. For Swiss he knows it won’t affect him at all but he doesn’t want to see rain keep having to try and choke it down. Besides, he will sneak him a water later when he gets up to get another Coke.

The fire crackles and dims a bit as everyone mingles within themselves. Rain fidgets with his hands, stil awkward like he’s doesn’t exactly know how to conduct himself in a crowd of strangers, especially ones that assume he looks down upon them. He wraps his fists in the sleeves of Swiss’ flannel, playing with the buttons. Swiss swoons, secretly hoping it’ll smell like him whenever he gets it back. If he gets it back.

“Excuse me” rain whispers, getting up and heading inside for a moment. Dew stares at the door until it closes, getting up to walk towards Swiss.

“Why the fuck would you bring him?” Dew hisses, getting in Swiss’s face with a finger on his chest.

“What’s your problem? He’s cool I promise”

“Oh yeah sure and when he tells on us when we’re all hungover tomorrow you’ll be the one to find us all new jobs” dew tries not to turn completely red with anger. A mix of alcohol and fear and exasperation for Swiss’ actions.

“He’s not like that, he won’t sell us out” Swiss sighs. He hasn’t said a word about them so far, hell he hates his dads rules more than anyone, why would he care if the rest of them broke them? He’s never been the warmest, so it’s only fair they’re wary, even if it doesn’t feel great.

“He’s a spy, a sell out. This is just some weird plan to make sure we are doing our work I’m sure of it”

Mountain gives a sympathetic glance to Swiss. He knows him better, the look in his eyes around rain and the fact that he gave him his favorite flannel, he knows.

“Drop it dew. If it comes to that then we will worry about it then” mountain calls.

“Mark my fucking words army knife”

Rain soon comes back, feelings the new settled tension between everyone. Cirrus and phantom avoid looking at him while dews gaze only harshens. Mountain at least offers him a polite smile.

“We should get going rain, it’s late” Swiss says gently, folding up his chair.

They pack up quickly and ride in mostly silence on the way home. Rain feels bad, clearly something happened but he doesn’t know how to ask, and Swiss doesn’t know how to admit that they seem to hate him.

It’s not important, at least for now. Swiss parks far away in the gravel so the headlights don’t shine through the windows and rain makes no move to get out. The crummy old cassette plays a song that’s more static than music.

The silence doesn’t feel as bad the longer they sit, stealing small glances at each other. Their eyes meet accidentally, making them both laugh nervously.

The click of rains seatbelt makes Swiss jump, his heart falling a little because of the realization that the night is actually over now. Rain shifts to turn towards him.

He’s adorable. Flannel a little too big and sliding off his shoulders, his hair messy and the moon catches the sharp angles of his face just right.

“Not even a kiss goodnight? Thought you were a gentleman” rain laughs, trying to tease and almost ask for what he wants outright. They haven’t truly kissed again since the night in the barn, only a couple pecks on the cheek here and there.

“Well you gotta come here then tadpole” Swiss leans over the bench, placing a small peck on his lips and rain just looks disappointed when they part.

He needs a little more, his skin feels itchy whenever he and Swiss get close because god he wants to kiss him again and again and again-

Rain furrows his brow, just looking at him.

“You look disappointed rainy”

“I’m not, I just thought….”

Swiss smiled, grabs him by the collar and drags him in for another one. A proper kiss, just a little desperate until they’re both breathless and heaving into each other space. Rains lips are kissed a pretty red and a little plump and god Swiss is just

In love with him.

“Is that an ok goodnight princess?”

“Of course it is”

And with that, rain hops out of the car and sneaks back inside. Swiss stays for a second to make sure he gets in alright, he doesn’t comment about his flannel.

Rain doesn’t even realize he still has it until he’s back in his room. He closes his door quietly and leans back against it, trying to remember how to breathe properly and it’s hard because he can still smell Swiss. That’s when he looks down, realizing he accidentally stole his flannel. He truly didn’t mean to wander off with it.

He tells himself he will wash it and return it because it’s only polite, but he’s already climbing into his bed with it before the thought finishes.

Rain doesn’t sleep until well after the sun is up because his head just swims. Trying to pick every second apart. Was it more than what he thought it was? Was Swiss just indulging in him?

He likes him a lot. He hopes and prays this isn’t some stupid fling and Swiss is secretly just messing with him and rain doesn’t even know how to bring it up without sounding like a love sick idiot.

He needs to be more careful anyways. They can’t be around each other that much because they’ve been more than careless and honestly they’ve been lucky they haven’t been caught.

There’s a small part of rain that wakes up to Swiss’ scent and realizes he’s not next to him, he feels like an idiot for even imagining.

[buttercupd1ed]

RINGS (TREATMENT PT. 2) YOUNG SEVERUS SNAPE X READER

warnings: wolfstar? 😏

It's an autumn Hogsmeade day for the students. I've decided to go with my cousin, James Potter, and his friends: the Marauders. I do regret it, though, since i've been thinking to go with Severus for the day. James was the first one to ask me anyway, and besides... he needs help to find a promise ring for Lily who also decided to join us.

"Y/N! Where are we going next? We've already gotten our stomachs full, got candy, looked at brooms..." James asked and I pondered.

"Oh! James and Sirius, I have a surprise for you two. Remus, Lily and Peter, you guys can go to..." I suggest. Trying to think of a place the three can go to.

"Zonko's Joke Shop!" Sirius suggests and I nod eagerly.

"Um.. okay.." Lily says and I smile, waving at her and the other two as they leave. Lily is the only one that doesn't know what's going on, actually.

"Okay, let's go." I signal the three and we dash to a store in Hogsmeade where all the prettiest and most expensive jewelries are. That's where James is going to buy the promise ring for Lily.

Eventually, we reach the store and we enter. The chime above the door signaling that we did. Shockingly, we are the only customers in the store... or so we thought.

"Good afternoon... Potter, Black... L/N..." A platinum haired boy greets and I smile a bit.

"Good afternoon Lucius. Are you buying a ring for Narcissa?" I ask casually since Lucius has recently became my friend. So did a few more Slytherins who are friends with Severus. I could already feel two pairs of eyes staring at me in suspicion.

"Yeah.. her mother wants me to propose to her by the end of the year." He responds and I nod slowly in understanding.

"How about you, and... Potter along with Black.." He scoffs saying the last names of my friends. 

"Will you be buying a ring for S- I- I mean your significant other?" He asks and I sigh out. He knows well that James will kill me once he finds out i'm dating Severus. I'm glad he didn't allow him to find out, though. A loyal friend he is.

"Yeah, and James will buy one for his Lilyflower." I mock and I feel James nudge my arm powerfully, causing me to grip it painfully. Damn those Quidditch arms..

"Alright, alright. Have fun finding your ring." He says, sneering at James. In the corner of my eye, I observed James rolling his pair at Lucius.

"Will do!" I say back to diffuse the tension and I approach the selection of rings. As I arrive, the rings shine in my eyes beautifully, but none of them seemed to match perfectly... yet.

"You have a lover, Y/N?" James whispers to me and I slowly nod. Still examining the rings in front of me.

"Who is he? What's his house? How old is he? Please tell me it's not Snivellus." James says rapidy and I sight out.

"He's in Ravenclaw, he's in the same year as me and no. He's not Severus." I lie. I'm great at lying, actually. I've been able to get away from troubles just by doing so.

"Snivellus." He 'corrects' me and I scoff, rolling my eyes at him.

"Whatever." I answer, but as soon as my eyes stay in place, I spot a beautiful ring. A thick silver ring with a small rectangular-shaped emerald at the top. The silver part was rather detailed. It had carved lines and a crown like shape on it.

"Woah..." I breathily say as I stare at the ring in awe. I quickly raise my hand to get the attention of the one running the shop at the moment, and she approaches me.

"How may I help you?" She asks.

"How much for that silver ring with a rectangular emerald on top?" I follow up with a question.

"100 Galleons. Would you wish to buy it?" She asks and I nod eagerly. As she fixes the ring for me into a small black box, I take out my wallet. Taking 100 galleons out quickly.

"Woah, woah, woah, Y/N. This much for a boy?" Sirius asks and I look at him.

"Yes, Sirius." I respond quickly.

"Are you serious?" He asks and I chuckle a bit as the woman hands me the box.

"No, I'm Y/N." I respond and he glares at me siriusly.

"No, i'm serious, Y/N." He says with a stern voice now. I already place the 100 galleons on the counter.

"Of course you are! You're Sirius Black, how can you not be Sirius?" I joke and I leave them. Scurrying away from the two.

"HEY YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO HELP ME FIND A RING FOR MY LILY FLOWER!!" I hear James shout and I laugh. I'm glad I didn't help him.

I then push the door open and I dash going to my favorite store in Hogsmeade... besides Hog's Head Inn, of course. My favorite store being Tomes and Scrolls. A bookstore, and Severus' favorite space as well. I figure he'd be here the whole day since he doesn't really have anything to do.

Soon enough, I arrive at the front of the store. I stop in my tracks to take deep breaths in and out since I lacked bloody oxygen in my body. Once I recovered from that, I went into the store. A chime signaling my entrance just like the previous shops.

As I enter, I look left, right, up and down for Severus. Fortunately, in an instant I find him. At a corner, standing up. Reviewing a book. He looked attractive once he did so. His tall figure well lit as he stood with a proper posture. His lips slightly apart and his hair positioned in the right places.

I then approach him slowly and normally. My breathing pattern shifting to a slower one, and my heart pounding hardly and quickly in nervousness.

"Good afternoon, Severus." I greet him quietly and he turns his head to me. His scars healed much better compared to last month. The only scar visible was the one on his lip, but he didn't mind, and so did I.

"Good afternoon, Darling." He greets me back. Closing his book and sliding it back into the shelf. "How are you?"

"I'm great. You?" I ask back.

"I'm alright.." He mumbles and I chuckle slightly. That meant he's pretty happy, from what I learned.

"I- I want to bring you somewhere.." I say and he furrows his eyebrows, but releases it eventually.

"Go ahead." He says and I nod. Grabbing his hand quickly and pulling him out of the shop. I quickly walk and he quickly walks as well. Matching the rhythm of our steps.

"This reminds me of the afternoon of our first kiss. Doesn't it for you?" He asks and I chuckle.

"It does, actually!" I laugh into my words, and I hear him laugh slightly too. I swear I heard him laugh. I'm happy he did!

Luckily, it's sunset so when I give the ring, it will be gorgeous. I'm bringing him to the top of the hill where not much people go to since it takes long, but hopefully, no one will be there. I hope it will just be him and I. Just him and I.

Eventually, I arrive to the top and I drag him. Making him face me. I hold his two hands with mine and I genuinely smile at him with my lips.

"What's this, love?" He asks with a smile. Oh my Merlin how much I wanted to see that gorgeous smile again. 

"Well..." I start. Letting go of his hands slowly and reaching into my deep pocket. I then slowly kneel down on one knee on the ground covered in the orange leaves of autumn. I then pull out the black box and open it, as if I were proposing.

"I can't promise you that life will be easy, that I can easily clear up the cloud above your head and make the sun shine immediately. I can't promise that the cousin of mine will accept you being my soon to be fiancé and husband." I say and he chuckles, so do I.

"But what I can promise you is that I will do my best to make you happy with all my heart, be loyal, stay by your side, and most importantly..." I pause, looking down and back up at him.

"I promise to love you. Forever and always. No matter the cost, the reputation, the dangers." I say then I stand back up. Removing the ring from its holder and taking the hand of Severus. Sliding the ring on his ring finger.

"I love you so much, Y/N." He says and pulls me in. Our lips connecting and colliding like all the stars in the universe. Fireworks sparked in my body as we moved in sync. His hands snake down to my hips, and my hands find their way to his black curls. I comb through the tangled, yet soft, feeling of them and wrapped my arms around his neck. ————————————

James Potter's Point-of-View

"Come on, love! It's not that far." I tell Lily. Supporting her from the back.

"I know, and i'm fine, James. You don't really need to help me." She says and I sigh. Looking at her lovingly.

"You will need my help if you'd like a child. You know how." I flirt with her and she rolls her eyes with a smile. Her cheeks reddening quickly. I give her a wink and I look back at my three friends behind us. Giving them a signal as we near the hill. A great place to give Lily the promise ring.

"My dear Lilyflower..." I say, reaching for my pocket and slowly pulling out a box, but everything changes until I see two people... snogging each other... but they're not just two people... that's... 

"Y/N!?" I shout out and she parts her kiss with the man. The man who's a friend of Lily, and a man I despise. I drop the box back into my pocket and I approach the man.

"WHY ARE YOU SNOGGING MY COUSIN, SNIVELLUS!? WHY ARE YOU PLAYING WITH HER!? HUH?" I ask. Holding Snivellus by the collar and showing him my clenched fist. One I will use to punch him.

"JAMES! STOP IT, JAMES!" I hear Y/N yell at me and I look at her furiously.

"YOU TOO, Y/N! WHY ARE YOU KISSING BLOODY GREASY HAIR HERE!? YOU ALSO SAID YOU WEREN'T DATING SNIVELLUS, AND THAT THE CHAD IS A RAVENCLAW!" I shout at her.

"Okay. First of all, he's my boyfriend. The one Lucius was talking about. Second of all, I lied!" Y/N says and I grow angrier. 

"Boyfriend! BOYFRIEND!?" My fist nearing Snivellus' face.

"That's enough, James." Lily says, trying to stop me, but no one and nothing can stop me. My fist then nears Snivellus' face once again. My fist a centimeter away from his incredibly large nose.

"STUPEFY!" I hear Y/N cast and I get pushed back. I groan as it hurts when I land on my back. I swear I heard a snapping sound of some sort... probably the leaves though.

"Severus! Are you alright?" I hear Y/N distantly and I sit up. Looking up at her and smelly Snivellus.

"I'm alright, Love. All is good." He reassures her and I roll my eyes. Sneering at the young man. I hear Y/N and... Snivellus chuckle. Since when did he ever smile? Bloody hell...

"Sorry for James. I love you." I hear Y/N say and I stand up aggressively. Not yet making a move on Snivellus yet.

"I love you too, gorgeous." He says and smiles. Showing his bloody teeth which i'm jealous of since it's whiter... whiter than my teeth. But he does something I desperately hate. He leans nearer to Y/N's face and they... THEY BLOODY KISS!

I storm to the two, but I get held back by, who I believe, is Sirius and Peter. Remus then steps in front of me and hands me a piece of chocolate, which I bite. Along with his fingers as I try to rip them off.

"AAAAAAAAA THAT HURTS JAMES!" Remus shouts and I continue to bite. Even harder.

"LET GO OF MY BOYFRIEND JAMES!!" I hear Sirius shout out and I release Remus' fingers from the pain of my sharp teeth.

"BOYFRIEND!?!?" I exclaim. Tears already falling from my eyes from all the information I have gotten today. The pressure is too much.

"Yess Wolfstar.." I hear Peter say and we all look at him. He's acting queer. Very queer. High on drugs?

[concussed-to-pieces]

Wolves At The Door; Part Eight

Fandom: Resident Evil [Village]

Pairing: Eventual Karl Heisenberg/AFAB!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Summary: You both skied in silence for a long while, Karl absently watching your hips move back and forth beneath your snowsuit. Due to the stark uniformity of the surrounding area there wasn't much else to look at anyways, so he didn't feel particularly bad for doing so. 

A/N: Welcome all, welcome to our eighth installment! There will be no update on the 15th, so our next installment will come on the 22nd. Thank you for reading 💚Enjoy!

Tag List: @cookiethewriter @amneris21 @topgirl17 @vodkafolie @a-smol-witch @clockworkmidnight @calwitch @silver-quinn01 @velvet-paradox @hijackser @mrs-wolfwood @nonstop-haikyuu @mic-sunderland @somethingthatsaysbubbles @fullofmoonsandstars @stargazerofgoldenwords @imthegreenfairy86 @karlskitten @nitrogennightmare @chunnies @thirstworldproblemss @highly-unknown @tartimaar-bloggeth @thesmartbiscuit @spoopyredacted @crowtrobotx @kotall-ohh @doggydale

x. Prelude

1. Indebted

2. Blood On Your Hands

3. Brush With Death

4. Come To Bed

5. Smells Like Snow

6. Hot Iron

7. Turnover

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains mentions of blood, canon-typical violence, sexual acts between two consenting adults and graphic depictions of mental and physical duress. Stay safe!]

Tucking into his sleeping bag that night, this time on a wooden lean-to thatched with old pine boughs, his stomach full of a delicious meal, Karl knew he ought to be content.

Hell, he ought to be worn out from a day of socializing. 

But all he could focus on was your back. You had spread out your sleeping roll next to his once you returned from the bathhouse, wished him goodnight sleepily and then immediately nodded off. You were on the outside instead of him, which Karl wasn't enormously fond of, but he understood that you were just too exhausted to climb over him.

Your back was tantalizingly close. It was the only part of you not wholly engulfed by your sleeping bag. He already knew what the weave of your thermal shirt felt like, after last night-

Karl forced himself to roll onto his back, tearing his eyes away from you. Thinking about it too much felt…wrong, somehow, like he was about to get his wrist slapped. Or broken. The merciful Mother Miranda hadn't exactly spared the rod when it came to him. 

The man forced a quiet breath out through his nose, his fingers absently mapping the length of the scar on his lower lip. 

It was still immensely foreign for him to want something and not instantly indulge himself in it. Really, it was going against the nature of the beast! Karl felt a little fake over the whole thing, like he was expected to just…devour you. Swallow you whole and leave nothing but the bones. This slow approach…

Was there anything in life actually worth waiting for? Gods, it had always been such a mad dash ever since he had decided he wanted to kill Miranda. Karl hadn't thought about waiting for anything else in years upon years, his single-minded ambition serving him well in that pursuit. 

Karl glanced over at you again before he could stop himself. 

Yes. Was it being greedy if you wanted it too?

He barely refrained from groaning, the man jamming his knuckles against his eyes in frustration. Sleep didn't come easily for him that night.

So he was a little disgruntled when he was awoken again, well before dawn if the sky was anything to go by. However, his malcontent rapidly vanished as he heard you drowsily ask, "can I put your dick in my mouth?"

Heisenberg didn't even think about his reply, much to his dismay. The word rushed out of his mouth before he could register it. "Absolutely." He grunted, your hand immediately moving to rest on the plane of his hip. "Aren't you tired though?"

"A little," you admitted, yawning, "but I want to do this."

"Listen, I…last night was kind of a fluke for me." Karl warned you gruffly, his words slow to come. It hadn't even been a fluke, it had been an outright baffling turn of events for him to only come once. In the past, it had always taken him a short eternity, at least three orgasms before he was satisfied. Something about last night, something about you had to have been different. Maybe it was the fact that it had been so long for him. "If you start this, it's probably not going to be over for…well, a while. So you don't have t-"

"Shh." You mumbled, unzipping his pants. "I don't care. I'm not doing this to get it out of the way, Karl."

His misgivings quickly faded when you ran your tongue over the side of his dick, Karl hissing out a breath and groaning. You looked incredible with his dick in your mouth. Your eyes were heated and drowsy, your hair still a mess from sleep, slightly-chilled fingers wrapped around the base of his cock so you could engulf him in your mouth…incredible, he could at least admit to himself. Even if he didn't deserve it.

And he certainly didn't. 

"Get up here." He managed to say, patting his chest. 

You pulled your mouth away, squinting up at him. "Where?" You asked, your spit-slick palm still working his cock. 

Karl gritted his teeth; he had forgotten you couldn't really see in the dark. "Uh. On my face." He finally clarified awkwardly. "I want you to sit on my face, sugar." 

"Oh." You breathed. Something in your tone made Karl's dick twitch, which was very new. He'd never had anything like that happen.

Fuck, what the hell was the matter with him? One person showed a little interest and all of a sudden his body was screaming for them? It felt pitiful, but maybe it made sense. No one had ever wanted him before, they had always wanted what he could offer them. Karl hadn't exactly had his pick of bedfellows either, the man not overeager to lose his dick to one thing or another. 

Maybe this was normal.

However, he didn't really feel like dedicating any more thought to that particular issue, choosing instead to focus on you gingerly straddling his head. 

…

Morning found you wrapped around a slumbering Karl, the insides of your thighs still pleasantly sensitive from the rub of his facial hair. You groaned, stretching and then settling back into his arms for another minute or two. 

Your mind drifted back to you waking up in the middle of the night, the sudden impulse to offer a sexual favor, acting on said impulse and how gratifying Karl's response had been. Hell, he hadn't so much as taken a beat before he answered. Your jaw was a little stiff this morning, but to be fair, he had warned you and apologized for how long the act might take. He had also gotten you off as well, which was unexpected but appreciated.

In the cold daylight you grimaced at yourself, thinking everything over. It might not be…so bad, having someone around that, even while being emotionally unavailable, was physically attracted to you. The attention was nice. The way he looked at you was nice. You could live with an arrangement like this. The two of you cohabitating, occasionally sleeping together, but without the mess of a relationship. 

It felt smart. Logical. A mutually-beneficial endeavor.

You nodded, your mind made up, and with that settled you moved to retrieve your discarded leggings from the base of your sleeping bag. The town campground had the rare luxury of bathrooms with running water and you intended to take full advantage of them once more. Any time you could bathe without having to lug or heat the water yourself was prized.

Upon your return from getting washed up for the day, Karl was just struggling out of the tangled mess of his sleeping bag. You took in the way he looked for a moment, catching yourself smiling at his disheveled appearance before he looked up with a scowl.

Seems like you may have tamed me.

"Thought you got eaten." He said unconvincingly, yawning midway through his sentence.

"Well, you certainly made a valiant attempt at doing so last night." You shot back, snickering at his momentary confusion. Whatever his hangup had been, it seemed that the casual nature of your most recent offer had been enough to dispel it. Heisenberg actually laughed once he realized what you were getting at, the sound refreshing in its honesty. 

"You know how I am, always ravenous." He teased with a wink, beginning to messily roll up his bedding. "At least you let me sleep for a few hours-"

"'Let' you, oh my God you're so dramatic."

Continuing to banter back and forth, the two of you broke down camp for the morning and got everything packed back up. As usual, you were returning to Emil's to pick up the supplies that you had secured the previous day, and from there it was back on the trail. 

Karl seemed to be in high spirits this morning, the man carrying on a lively, one-sided conversation with a glowering Emil while he effortlessly loaded the sled with bags of flour and sugar. Emil had always helped you in the past, so it was a bit humorous to see how put-out the elderly man was over Karl's assistance. 

"Take care of yourself, little one." Emil said before you departed, his brows furrowed in a serious expression. "We don't know what happened regarding the military presence at the reservoir and…" he paused, aiming a glare at the oblivious Karl. "Well, we don't know what we don't know, I suppose." He finished grudgingly.

"Thanks for looking out for me." You grinned, making Emil reluctantly smile back. "I can handle myself, but I appreciate the concern."

Emil caught your arm as you turned to leave. "I…I am unsure of the validity of Marku's reports. Promise me you will be safe." He murmured. You nodded. His shoulders sagged, the elderly man clearly relieved. "Thank you for humoring me, little one."

…

"What's he to you, some kind of uncle?" Heisenberg finally asked after the two of you had crossed the town line (indicated by a metal sign so worn it was essentially illegible). "Seemed a little more concerned than the average butcher or baker."

You sighed, glancing over at him. "Emil worked with my relatives for a long time, like I said. He's basically watched me grow up, coming here every fall for years and years with my family."

Karl 'hmm'ed, still annoyed with how Emil had sullenly watched him, but at least now he understood why. "Guess I'll have to let it slide, then." He joked lightly. "The disrespect."

He didn't expect you to laugh. "Don't feel special, he's like that with everyone new. Just stick around and he'll warm up to you."

Stick around. Karl wasn't sure what to make of that. He busied himself adjusting the load on the sled, double-checking the straps wrapped around the bags of flour and brown sugar. 

Did you…want him to stick around? Did you want him to stay in your cabin even longer? 

Indebted.

Karl tossed his head, jamming his hat back down as the wind whipped through the trees. "I assume you know the way?" He called over the wind, smirking when you gestured downward with a deadpan expression at the rutted, snow-covered track. The runner marks from the sled were still visible as well, indicating where the two of you had passed by yesterday.

You both skied in silence for a long while, Karl absently watching your hips move back and forth beneath your snowsuit. Due to the stark uniformity of the surrounding area there wasn't much else to look at anyways, so he didn't feel particularly bad for doing so. 

Casual, maybe that's what you were interested in? A casual relationship, some sort of mutually beneficial arrangement. You didn't seem to feel strongly one way or another, always keeping your cards close to your chest. It was probably simpler to keep things casual anyway. 

You had mentioned Emil and Marku saying something about 'a military presence at the reservoir'. He could only assume it was Moreau's reservoir, especially after that hunched old shepherd had asked if he had any relation to the Heisenberg factory. 

You look familiar. 

Had the older generation in that town met his relatives? His father, maybe? A shudder ran down his spine at the thought. Unless his former family had been better at hiding their urges than he was, he doubted they had left a good impression. He had gotten his legendary temper somewhere, after all.

That particular train of thought steamed onward, souring Karl's mood into a black chasm of bitter half-memories. Family was such a loaded topic, but it really always had been. After his father had passed on (too bad, so sad), family was confusing at best and downright terrible at worst. He didn't have anyone. He never had, and if he'd had his way it would have stayed as such. The bastardization of siblings, of mother, would always make him writhe. Even at a young age, he knew better than to trust what that cult leader wanted to fill his mind with.

They were a means to an end, they always had been. Miranda prettying it up with family was just another tactic to keep them loyal, devoted, good little sheep in her flock. 

"You okay?" Karl started at the sound of your voice beside him, the man quickly turning. You had paused for a drink, your water bottle in hand while you raised an eyebrow at him.

Damn, he was parched. "Lost in thought." Heisenberg muttered. 

"Want to talk about-"

"No." He snapped, then cringed at the way your face briefly showed your hurt before you could hide it. "I uh, no. Sorry. This stuff is better off in my head." 

"Don't think too hard, okay? I can see the steam coming out of your ears." You retorted snidely. 

Karl gave you a hollow grin, taking a healthy sip from his own bottle. "What can I say? I'm a machine of industry."

…

You may as well have been alone for all that your companion offered to the trek in terms of conversation. He trundled along behind you silently, the sled rails crunching through the icy top of the snow under their heavy burden. Nearly two hundred pounds of flour and sugar, never mind the other, less bulky items you had picked up. Your own backpack was carefully loaded to the brim, full of small essentials that would make your winter bearable. It was always important to find ways to stave off the boredom during the cold months, where it seemed like the entire world was hibernating except for you. 

The two of you walked well into the afternoon to reach the lean-to, choosing to eat lunch on the road as opposed to stopping. You found that often if you had a fully-loaded pack, stopping and starting back up again was more difficult than just continuing to plod forward. Karl didn't seem to mind one way or another, the man having no issue with keeping the even pace.

Upon reaching the lean-to, you took in the copious tracks through the snow around the area. Wolf prints criss-crossed over yours and Karl's, and at the outskirts of the clearing was the meandering trail of a solitary bear. You whistled at the sight of that, a little concerned. The lean-to was only about three feet off the ground; a normal-sized brown bear would be able to crawl into it on top of you and Karl and you doubted it would be overly thrilled with your company.

"What the hell? That big bitch ought to be in hibernation." Karl grumbled as he came up alongside you, the man placing a boot firmly in the middle of a pawprint. 

"Late bloomer, I guess." You shrugged, sighing. "I usually don't get much sleep on the return trip anyway. Too much food and the smells attract the wildlife." 

"Sugar, I'm here." Karl thumped himself on the chest, making you snort. "If that bear wants to pick a fight, I'll go mano a mano with it. I do not give a shit."

"I mean you're a bit better suited to the challenge than the average person, what with your ability to make metal listen to you." You pointed out. "The rest of us normies would have a real rough time, especially without a gun." Heisenberg's scoff of derision at that was almost deafening, startling another snicker out of you. "Forgive me, Lord Heisenberg." You teased.

"Don't call me that." His tone dropped to a low growl, entirely lacking in humor. You gave him a confused look and he groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Look, I…I just don't want to think about that shit right now," he continued quietly. 

"Okay." Christ, you felt awkward. "Sorry."

"It's fine." Karl glanced around, then set off in a random direction. You watched him go, worried until he bent to scoop up a few twigs from beneath a tree. The relief that washed over you was…odd, so you staunchly ignored it by beginning to mound up the ashes in the fire pit. 

Scraping the char off to the sides, you worked to separate out the half-burned sticks from the rest of the ash so that you could build the fire properly. A few moments of digging around later and you had a decent pile of kindling, using your knife to splinter the burnt branches into a more useful size. The act was meditative, helping you to turn off the part of you that so desperately wanted to think about Karl, about his past, about…

You shook your head, frustrated at yourself. Now wasn't the time for this! You needed to get the fire going before you lost daylight. That was the priority.

Karl dumped an armful of branches onto the ground beside the half barrel, his eyes distant and reply vague when you thanked him. Clearly he too was thinking hard. He began methodically snapping branches in half, breaking them down into a more manageable size while you continued to carefully stack the kindling. When you finally slipped a match in between the twigs and splinters, you were relieved by how quickly the flames caught. Sometimes it was a little touch and go!

"What's on the menu, sugar?" Heisenberg asked, opening the flap of his pack and then looking at you expectantly. 

"Well, we've got the leftovers from last night's dinner." You had packed the two cardboard takeaway containers (with plastic cutlery, what luxuries!) into the outside of your pack to keep them cold, so you directed him to where they were. "We also have the last of the preserves, at least until we get home, and the bread."

"Save that for the morning, we can make toast." Karl reasoned and you nodded in agreement. 

The two takeout containers were soon splayed open, Heisenberg offering you a bite of his cheese pie in exchange for one of the cabbage rolls you had saved. The two of you took turns warming your ramshackle dinner over the fire, Karl having fashioned a sort of long fork out of a section of metal from the top of the barrel in order to facilitate the process. 

"Granted, I could just stick my hand into the fire, but I don't feel like healing third degree burns tonight." Karl waved his fingers well above the flames in a joking manner.

"Does anything actually hurt you?" You asked curiously, kicking yourself when his expression darkened immediately. 

"Shit hurts me like it hurts everyone else." Heisenberg responded stiffly. "I've still got nerve endings. They're a little fried, but there." 

"Sorry, I'm really putting my foot in my mouth tonight." You tried to apologize but he waved it off.

"You're allowed to be curious, sugar. If I didn't want to answer, I wouldn't." 

"Yeah but I'm not owed information. I'm just nosy, I guess. Don't feel like you have to answer things just because I ask them." At that, you were pleased to see the tension in his shoulders ease somewhat. You wondered if he had felt like he had to answer you, even if it made him uncomfortable. 

"Thanks," was his eventual reply, and the two of you lapsed into a companionable silence while you finished dinner.

…

Heisenberg woke to a fresh dusting of snow on the ground, your face buried in his chest and frost coating his eyebrows. He grumbled, rubbing the heel of his palm back and forth to dislodge the icy remains on his forehead. Drowsy eyes traveled to the two packs that he had hoisted high up into a nearby tree, the man relieved to see them still hanging unscathed. There were also no fresh tracks in the snow that he could see from his reclined position, another good sign.

It had been a quiet night, then. That was a relief. Karl had been concerned about a possible scuffle in the night, either with local wildlife or old friends, but it seemed his fears had been unfounded.

"Time to wake up, sugar." Karl murmured, rubbing your back. "Home tonight, if all goes well."

"Mhm," you hummed, pressing an absent kiss to the underside of his jaw before you rolled upright and stretched. A wide yawn quickly turned into violent shivering and you rushed to wrap yourself up in your sleeping bag. "Shit it's cold, damn." You grumbled, grabbing the ski suit you had tucked into the foot last night and wriggling the legs of it up over your base layer. 

Karl, still a little confused from your kiss, just slid out of the lean-to after donning his boots. He almost welcomed the cold, it was bracing in a way. Grounding. Don't think about it.

"Bread should be in your pack, close to the top." You called when he moved to lower the two hanging bags from their lofty perch. 

"Got it." Karl replied, slinging both packs over his shoulder so they didn't end up in the fresh powder on the ground. After setting the backpacks down in the lean-to, he quickly located the wrapped loaf of bread and handed it off to you, chuckling as you ripped the heel off the loaf and shoved it into your mouth. "Hungry this morning?"

You nodded, struggling to swallow momentarily. "It's tough, I feel like I'm always hungrier after other people's cooking." You admitted. 

"Alright, well, let's get breakfast going before you eat the whole damn loaf." Don't think about it.

But gods, it was difficult. He coaxed the fire back to life and you toasted half the loaf in one go, your eyes so intent on the task it was nearly comical. Then came the last of the preserves you had brought, a little crystalline from being at the bottom of the jar but no less delicious. Karl got a little of the sticky substance in his mustache and you noticed it before he did, the man not realizing until you were wiping it clean with a soft laugh. "You always eat so fast! Nobody's going to take it from you, I promise."

Don't think about it, Karl reminded himself sternly on the trail later that day, finding his eyes wandering to your hips once more. Don't think about it, damn it all. 

Things could be simple. He didn't need to ruin it by thinking about it, like he had done with everything else in his life. He could be happy like this, actually happy. So why the hell did he feel the need to think and subsequently shred his chances of existing peacefully? 

You ruin everything you touch.

Heisenberg set his jaw tight enough to feel the ticking of his muscles. It felt too inevitable, too sinisterly obvious. He was going to do something to ruin this for himself. Maybe he already had set it in motion. He had put his hands on you, had touched you freely, and–

Don't think about it.

What more could he do, though? Without his title, without the want for his title, all he had now was worry, concern, and doubt. His closest friends throughout his life, crowding in once again to drown him with the ceaseless loop of regret. Not remorse, mind, Karl didn't believe remorse was a thing he could feel, but he could understand that he had done monstrous things and justified them in the name of taking down Miranda. Where his 'siblings' had treated their endeavors as the greater good, Heisenberg knew damn well that his goals were nothing so glamorous. 

You ruin everything you touch. 

His vision blurred and Heisenberg chose to stare at the ground for a very, very long time, focusing on his skis retreading the tracks from your own. Behind him the sled full of supplies continued to be pulled along, the runners carving deeper into the snow than either you or Karl's skis. While he was intent on this particular task the man made his most valiant effort yet to entirely turn his brain off and, to his relief, it seemed to work for a little while. No thinking about what he had done, no fear about what he might do. Just one foot in front of the other, over and over again until the two of you reached more familiar woodlands.

Home.

That jolted him out of his thoughtless respite, much to his dismay. It wasn't his home, his home was some mold-ridden hellpit and he knew that. No matter how far he strayed, no matter how much he tried to ignore or forget, that factory was his home. The village was his home, with its sullen gray skies and the taste of rust perpetually in his mouth. 

You skied back to him, a smile on your face. Clearly you had noticed his flagging pace. "Almost home, Karl! Only a little further. You need a break? Snack?"

Home. 

Karl gritted his teeth until they creaked under the pressure, uncertain if the taste of iron was from phantom rust or if he had just cracked a tooth. He forced himself to ease his posture, willed his jaw to loosen, and opened his mouth. "I'd like a snack, yeah. I'm starving." He confessed unexpectedly, the actual response he had intended to give being 'no let's just get this done'.

"You got it!" Slinging your pack around, you dug through until you seized another cardboard takeaway container. "From Rache, Marku's wife. She gave us some donuts. Or, wait no, they're called papanasi I think."

Papanasi. Karl's mind latched onto the familiar word just as hungrily as his hands latched onto the fried good. It returned something to him, in a strange way. A memory, or maybe a dream of a memory: someone handing a small, hungry child a warm treat. 

Was he crying? Heisenberg cringed, trying to turn away so that you wouldn't see him wipe his eyes. He still flinched when you caught his arm but instead of berating him (or whatever the hell else he had been expecting), you simply used the end of your scarf to scrub at his cheek. 

"There! You had a little smudge." You smiled at him and Karl managed to muster up a watery twitch of his lips in return, the man rushing to cram the rest of the treat into his mouth to save him from engaging in some form of conversation.

Home. 

Part Nine

[missacidburn928s-heathenhideaway]

The Best Part

The Best Part

Bucky x POC!Reader

Wordcount: 2014

Summary:

The team finds out Bucky’s favorite thing about you and why he loves to spend all his time at your place. And maybe a hidden talent of his as well.

Warnings:

Sweet and fluffy with a generous dash of naughty. 18+ ONLY MDNI.

Notes:

This is a self indulgent birthday gift to myself. It will only be posted here and on my main page. Enjoy or don’t. It’s up to you.

Banner by @cafekitsune Divider by @firefly-graphics

If only the world knew just how “normal” the Avengers were when they weren’t out saving the world time and time again.

I’m fortunate enough to be one of the few privy to all the chaos and domesticity the team can get up to. Like tonight. It’s nothing fancy. Not at all like a “typical” Stark party with all the frills, bells and whistles.

No, tonight is low key and full of laughter. Somehow a karaoke machine, controlled by JARVIS, has been placed in the common room. Instead of just going up and singing a song on your own, you know the usual rules of karaoke, the team has decided that you must be volunteered to sing. You have no choice in song, that is up to the person who nominated you for the stage. If you refuse to sing, you must drink.

So far, there has only been 2 people who chose to drink. Bruce, who was nominated to sing “Bein’ Green” and Thor who just wanted to drink anyway.

“Next up, nominated by Sam,” JARVIS begins, “is Mr.Barnes and his far better half. Set to sing Best Part by H.E.R as a duet.”

I turn to my brooding boyfriend with a knowing smile adorning my face. We exchange a look, an acknowledgement of what is about to happen. I stand to my feet and reach a hand out to Bucky. He places his larger hand in mine, and we make our way to the makeshift stage.

“You’re really going to do it.” Sam starts laughing. “I truly thought you’d just drink. This is going to be so good. Let me get my phone out.”

The song begins with my part highlighted first. The words lighting up purple. But I don’t need them. The words flow out of me with ease. As they do every time I’ve recited them in the kitchen while cooking or cleaning around the house.

There was a moment of shock when my singing voice began to filter through the room, melodious and sweet. A talent of mine has now been exposed to the team for the first time. Something that I’ve done for so long that I forget that not everyone has heard me this way.

Nothing can beat Sam’s reaction when Bucky’s part comes up though. Without missing a beat he turns and sings directly to me. A smooth voice that I have heard time and time again. Secretly one of my favorite sounds.

Sam standing there, mouth agape, in utter shock, will forever be engraved in my mind. Right next to the shit eating grin my wolf has plastered to his face.

We slip into the harmonies with ease. This is a song we know very well. Humming and singing it through out the day when were at my place. The room is silent as we finish our song. Uncaring of the stares as we sing to each other.

It remains quiet for a beat or two after our last note.

“YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FUCKING SHITTING ME!” Sam shouts. “Your ice cold ass can sing? And with some swagger too. What the fuck man?”

I can’t help but burst out in laughter. “The look on your face is worth every moment of never telling you his little secret.”

“Steve, did you know about this?”

“What? Buck being able to sing?”

“Yes!”

“Yeah. It was just another thing that helped him with the dames back in the day. Didn’t know she could sing too though. That was a nice little surprise.”

“You sang that too well. How come?” Sam asks with suspicion.

Bucky is the one to answer. “It’s the first song I ever heard her sing. I found out about her voice by accident. Came to surprise her when I got back early from a mission. Thought it was the radio until I walked into the kitchen and saw it was in fact her entertaining herself while she cleaned.”

He kisses my temple before continuing. “And now I get to hear it every chance I can. It’s my second favorite thing about coming home to her. I hear her voice in my head when I’m a mission even. Helps keep me grounded.”

“That’s sweet. Second favorite though? What’s number one?” Nat asks.

He pulls me close. Placing me him front of him as be hugs me from behind. “Nothing beats the sweet she sounds she makes for me behind closed doors.” He nips my neck in the one spot he knows drives me wild.

Nat just grins and takes a sip of her drink.

“TMI man. We didn’t need to know that.” Sam whines.

“Aww, it’s okay birdbrain. I know you’re just jealous you don’t have a sexy woman of your own to scream your name. It’ll happen someday.”

The team erupts in laughter.

“Ha, ha. Who’s next up?”

“You are actually.” JARVIS chimes in.

I’m in the bathroom, washing my hands when I hear the door slowly open behind me. I look up into the mirror to find a pair of icy blues staring back at me.

“I’m a need ya to stay just like that doll.”

“Can I turn the water off at least.”

“Please do. Don’t want the sound drowning out all the lovely noises I’m about to pull out of you.”

“Everyone is right down the hall Bucky. What if they hear me?”

“Oh, I’m betting on it baby girl.”

He stands behind me, the warmth of him radiating through my thin dress. With purposeful movement he raises my dress until it pools around my waist. Exposing the lacy g string I put on to save me from panty lines.

“Mm. This ass just never quits. Got me drooling over watching it jiggle and bounce as I pound you from behind.”

I let out a whimper. The image he provided, dampening the little scrap of fabric even further.

My breath hitches in my chest when I feel his fingers ghost along my spine until they land on my hips. Teasing the waistband of my thong.

He painstakingly pulls down the soaked undergarment inch by unhurried inch. My impatience gets the better of me as I whine a soft “Please” while rubbing my thighs together.

He “tsk’s” at me as he continues to remove my g string.

I carefully step out of them. Widening my legs, I bend further over the vanity. Arching my back so that my glistening thighs, and dripping wet pussy is on full display.

He lets out a growl so deep that I feel it resonate down to my clit. I can hear the metal clang of his arm shifting as he undoes his belt and pulls down his zipper. Followed quickly by his fingers broaching my weeping hole. Making sure to apply pressure to that sweet spongy spot that has my knees begin to weaken.

“I can feel your little walls clenching down on my fingers already, doll. You’ve been thinking about this as much as I have. Go head baby. Come for me real good. I know you want to.”

He speeds up his ministrations. Determined to have me fall to pieces. Soaking his thick digits with my sweet nectar, before he makes me come apart on his cock. He’s a stickler about making me come before I take him.

I can feel the coil tightening in my core at a rapid pace. My walls pulsing in time with my quickening heart rate. The world blacks out for a moment, as every muscle in my body clenches down, and releases with a rush, all at once.

A devilish grin meets me in the mirror as the haze clears away. I watch as he releases his thick girth from the confines of his jeans. Using my slick as lube he gives himself a few strokes before teasing his tip along my folds.

“I’ve been thinking about this all night, Doll. Driving myself crazy with thoughts of having this little pussy wrapped around me so tightly. I’m so worked up I can’t be held accountable for what I’m about to do to you within earshot of our friends.” He places his hands on my ass. Giving my cheeks a squeeze before spreading them wide to notch himself at my entrance.

With a groan his thrusts forward. Splitting me open on his thick cock as he ruins me further for any other man. I can’t help but moan at the pleasure his length brings.

“That’s right baby girl. This is pussy was made just. For. Me.” He grits out as he buries himself as deep as he can go.

Our eyes connect in the mirror once more and it’s like a switch flips within him. His hips begin a fervent pace. As if with each thrust, he’s searing his name into my flesh to remain there forever. It’s an intoxicating cocktail of pain and pleasure and I am helpless in it’s wake.

Either unaware or uncaring of our surroundings and the subsequent audience we could attract, I succumb to the whims of our carnal dance. Professing my pleasure with each rise of my voice as my moans turn into a song all their own.

As soon as our tryst began it seems to be reaching it’s climax. Neither one of us is able to resist the pull of release.

“Fuck baby. I’m so close. Gonna fill you up so good, you’re going to be leaking me the rest of the night.”

“Please, Bucky. Give me everything you have. I want it all.”

“Such a greedy little slut.” He growls. “I fucking love how needy you are for me. But you know I’m going to need you to come for me one more time baby girl. Gotta feel my pussy squeezing me real tight before I give you your reward. Just like that. Yes. Come on. Come for me doll face.”

With his command and the unwavering movement of his hips I come undone once more. Letting lose a moan to rival Sasha Grey on her best day. There is without a doubt no way that the team did not hear me. I should feel some type of way about it but honestly, I feel too damn good to care.

“That’s it. Let them know just how good I make you feel baby. Fuck your squeezing me so fucking tight I can barely move. Oh fuck. I’m gonna come. Fuck fuck fuck…”

He goes completely still and I feel the warmth of his cum coat my womb with every twitch. It sets off a mini orgasm of my own that has me clutching the vanity for dear life so that I won’t collapse beneath the weight of a super soldier.

Bucky places his forehead between my shoulder blades as we catch our breath. With a kiss to my nape he rises back to his full height and pulls out of me. Making sure to push any errant drops of his seed back into my body before pulling my g string back up into place.

He rights my dress and then spins me around to face him.

“Ready to go do our walk of shame baby girl?”

“Shame for who? I’m not ashamed of what you just did to my body. And by the look on your face, you sure as shit aren’t either.”

“True.” He grins. “Does that mean I can rub it in Sams face when we get out there?”

I roll my eyes at his antics, as I make for the door. “Whatever makes you happy Wolfie. I’m too blissed out to care.”

We make it one step back into the common room before Sam is pointing in our direction.

“You are such a fucking asshole man. Not only did your nasty ass have to fuck your girl in the bathroom we all use. But you had to make sure the whole damn floor heard it.”

“Feeling inadequate Sam?”

��Fuck you man.”

“Sorry buddy, I’m a little empty right now.”

And that is when the Falcon launched himself over the couch to chase a White Wolf.

[scorpionrising]

there's an ache in you, put there by the ache in me (pt. 3: you taught me a secret language i can’t speak with anyone else)

pairing: aemond targaryen x oc word count: 5036 content warning: see part 1

read part 1 and part 2 here

Daena was kept up nearly the entire night with bile burning in the back of her throat, and any time she laid down once the discomfort abated, it only returned something fearsome. Relief came in the exhaustion that swept over her and pulled her warily into sleep’s clutches. However, she did not even have the time to dream, as she woke with the rising sun as she always did. She always had been the lightest of sleepers, and it had never been so bothersome as it was now. Bryna, the handmaiden who always tended to her on Dragonstone, eased her out of bed with pursed lips. 

“Are you feeling well, my lady?” Bryna asked gently. 

“I could not sleep,” Daena said through a yawn, still too close to sleep to consider covering her mouth, and then elaborated, “A sour stomach, I’m afraid.” 

Daena had spent enough time as part of Rhaenyra’s household throughout her life, having been taken to ward for quite some time after Luke’s birth, and knew Bryna well. A sweet girl somewhere around Daena’s age, likely a year or so older, with pale red hair, brown eyes splotched with green, and a smattering of freckles, Bryna was the niece of Rhaenyra’s favorite midwife. After nearly ten years of being around the other woman, Daena could read her expressions well. Bryna, so typically unshakeable, was concerned, and for that reason alone Daena thought she might out to be concerned.   

“Shall I have Maester Gerardys prepare you a… tea? Tonic? Something of the sort.” 

Still quite queasy and with a headache creeping up to match, Daena nodded her assent. 

“Right away, my lady. Let me help you into your dressing robe first.” 

Swathed in the thick hand spun cotton dyed a lovely and rich shade of blue, Daena poured herself a glass of water while Bryna stoked the fire in the hearth. Once she determined that Daena would be alright alone for a bit of time, she dashed out of Daena’s apartments. 

When Gerardys arrived, he claimed there was little cause for worry once he realized Daena had not caught a fever. He urged her to rest for the day anyway, and gave her a minty tincture that would help settle her sour stomach. Then, he instructed Bryna to go have Oswyn, his young apprentice, prepare a pot of ginger tea. It all felt a bit over the top to Daena, but it was not as though there were much else for her to do than stay abed so she did not argue as she otherwise might have. 

So, when the next day she woke with the same sour stomach, and the day after, and so forth, she requested ginger tea from the kitchens and used Gerardys’s tincture. She thought little of it because she felt otherwise fine. 

She sat in on the war councils, offered her opinion where needed and often without being asked, and trained with Jace to regain the muscle she lost in her time gone. The Queensguard often joined in, as Sers Lorrent and Erryk trailed them both whenever they went. 

Daena was facing off against Erryk while Jace lounged and Lorrent heckled Erryk viciously. They were being a bit stupid, using real swords rather than blunted blades and Erryk had stripped out of his armor to even the odds between them for injury. 

“Go on, then, Daena!” Jace called from the ground. “Put him on his back!” 

Lorrent whistled crudely in response. 

“That is not proper language around a lady, my prince!” Erryk called with a laugh in his voice. 

Daena took his distraction in stride and hooked her ankle around his knee, pulling his feet out from under him. Grinning, she dropped the point of her sword to his chest and shrugged. 

“And yet the lady put you on your back anyway, good Ser.” 

Erryk’s cheeks flushed a ruddy shade of pink and Daena stepped away from him so he could clamber up. As she wiped the sweat from her forehead off with the back of her arm, Jace leapt up to bring her doublet and sheath over to her. The air was cool but Daena just slung the doublet over her shoulder, blood still hot from the fight. 

“Well done,” he complimented, offering her a sip from his wineskin. 

She smiled and took a deep sip. “Walk me back to my chambers, will you?”

“I cannot,” he said. “Mother said I was to report immediately to her once we finished here.”

“Very well.” She handed the wineskin back to him and rested her sword on her shoulder. “See you for supper, then.” She turned to leave the training yard and stopped at Erryk. “I release you of your duties for the rest of the day, Ser Erryk. Perhaps now you might agree to recommend to Ser Harrold and Her Grace that I do not require a guard.”

“Ser Harrold told me that you are just as much Her Grace’s heir as Prince Jacaerys,” Erryk told her. “You will not be able to turn away a sworn shield, my lady.”

She stifled a groan between clenched molars. Just another reason to despise what the future held for her. Would she ever again have a moment of peace? Worried she would say something crass if she lingered, she thanked the knight for the match and hurried back into the castle. 

There was a narrow staircase that led up through the palisades and all the way to the top floor of the Stone Drum. No matter how often she did it, her legs always ached horribly by the end, but it was the quickest and most direct way. As she stepped onto the small platform of the palisade to continue up the stairs, the door swung open and Aemond stepped into the stairwell. Alone. 

“What are you doing?” Daena asked, hearing and wincing at the shrill edge her voice took on. “Where is Ser Harrold?”

“Rhaenyra decided that I can be trusted not to flee, as I have no means of leaving. I am still not permitted weapons or to even leave the castle grounds, but it is—” And she could hear the tightness of resentment in his voice as he spoke his next words. “—quite generous of our Queen, of course, to bestow such immense privileges to her traitorous brother.” 

Daena rolled her eyes. “That’s quite a bit of anger from someone who was committing treason.” 

“The war hasn’t been won yet,” Aemond said icily. 

“I know you hate Aegon and I’m sure you are smart enough to realize he is too vile of a man to ever be a good king,” Daena said. “Why does he deserve your loyalty?”

“Why does Rhaenyra?” Aemond asked. “What has she ever done for me?”

“This is bigger than our personal feelings,” Daena snapped. “This is about what is best for the realm, and what’s best for the realm is Rhaenyra.” 

“And I bent the knee, didn’t I?” Aemond hissed, crowding her up against the wall. “I am here, doing as she demands, hardly more than a prisoner. Tell me, what must I do in order to be trusted? Flagellate myself before the masses? Publicly denounce my family? Humiliate and degrade myself even further?” 

Seven Hells. 

“Aemond,” she said in a gentler voice than he perhaps deserved. “I do not think that if Rhaenyra did not trust you, you would be allowed to be without a guard.” 

“Yes.” He sniffed. “She told me it was you who changed her mind about me.” 

That was a surprise. “Me?”  

“Yes, I am sure you can imagine my surprise.”

A spark of irritation struck up within her. “Why must you assume the worst of everyone, and assume they assume the worst of everyone else?” 

“I’ve found you seem to be the exception in that area,” he said. 

She scoffed, crossing her arms. He purses his lips in response, and suddenly all she could think of was kissing him again. If only he would kiss her first; she would not push him away, but she could not be the one to cross the threshold. 

“I’ve never thought badly of you, you know,” she said, opting for a brief moment of honesty. 

It was strange, but he was likely the only person she could be fully honest with now. They had done something terrible together, and it was their shared burden to bear now. He was back to wearing an eyepatch now, too, and she found she missed the sight of the sapphire.

“I like you better without it, I think,” she murmured without thinking, gesturing to his eye. 

He recoiled as though she had smacked him. “What?”

Better to double down than walk it back, she thought. It was less humiliating that way.

“The eyepatch. I like your face without it.”

He made a choked, bleating sort of sound from the base of his throat in response. It was dangerous ground to be treading on, but she was still energized from the fight with Erryk; so much that her blood felt like it was singing, buzzing through her like the cicadas who came alive at night during summer in Driftmark. She was feeling restless and reckless, so when he pressed her to the wall and kissed her, she did not complain or even consider pushing him off. Instead, she dug her fingers into his hair and tugged at the roots while he licked into her mouth and pulled her waist flush against his. 

“I was watching you fight,” he muttered, breaking the kiss but not so much that his lips did not brush against Daena’s when he spoke. “I have never seen a woman wield a sword before.” 

“And now that you have?” she asked. 

“I mourn how many famed warriors we have lost out on, on account of their sex,” he said.  

Somehow, that only made her want to kiss him again. There was no denying it at this point, considering he was never far from her every waking thought. She was no longer merely fond of him, or even more than fond. No, that was too light of a phrase for the fire that burned within her belly at the mere sight of him. It could only be compared to what she felt with Sarya. And that was deeply problematic for many obvious reasons, but she wagered it would not hurt to ignore them for just a few moments longer and keep kissing.    

Though, as he slipped his fingers below the waistband of her breeches and pushed them inside of her, she wished it was merely physical attraction. If it were that, surely she would feel less guilty, knowing it were just some sort of animalistic instinct taking over her. But instead, she wanted to listen to him talk just as much as she wanted him inside of her. 

When she returned to her apartments, Bryna was in the solar, stoking the fire. “My lady!” she exclaimed. “You’re quite flushed. Are you sure you’re feeling well?” 

“It is just from the sparring with Ser Erryk,” Daena said breezily, though her face burned even warmer under Bryna’s worried stare. “Is there a bath prepared?” 

“Yes, my lady,” Bryna said. “Would you like help undressing?”

“No,” Daena said, not entirely certain that there would be no traces of Aemond left on her skin from their encounter in the stairwell, “thank you, I will be fine on my own.”

Bryna nodded and left the chambers soon after. When Daena removed her clothes, she was glad to have sent Bryna away, for there was a small smattering of bruises left from his mouth on her collar. She took her time in the bath, letting the scalding water soothe her sore muscles until it was no longer even a little bit warm and guilt began to creep back in. For that reason alone, supper remained a private affair in her chambers that night. Jace would certainly be cross with her for it in the morning, but better that than facing him amidst all the shame. 

She awoke in the morning with the same sour stomach that had been plaguing her for days, except this time she could not help but spill the contents of her stomach into one of the water pails left from when the maids filled her tub the night before. Groaning, she scrambled for the mint tincture Gerardys had given her to rid her mouth of the taste and scrubbed at her teeth and tongue before Bryna entered. Daena felt instantly guilty when Bryna’s nose wrinkled in disgust. 

“I’m afraid my stomach is still rather unsettled,” Daena said, embarrassed. “I think I will see myself to Maester Gerardys’s chambers.”

“Of course, my lady.” 

Daena pulled her dressing robe over her night shift and slipped her feet into a pair of blue, brocaded slippers to make her journey up to the top floor of the tower. Gerardys was puttering around his workshop when she knocked on his door. He opened the door, holding some sort of spiral shaped instrument she was not sure she wanted to learn the purpose of. 

“My lady,” he said, bowing his head in respect, “how may I help you?”

“I became ill this morning,” Daena said quietly, “if you take my meaning.”

His eyebrows sprang up while his eyes widened, but he nodded and quickly ushered her inside, instructing her to sit on the examination table. She jumped up on the table and teetered awkwardly side to side while waiting for him to speak. 

“So, tell me, how far along are you, my lady?” 

“What?” Daena exclaimed. 

“Is that not what your meaning to be taken was, my lady?” he asked, sounding shocked. “Forgive me, with your symptoms, I merely assumed.” 

Daena glanced down at her abdomen subconsciously and started laughing. “That— That’s absurd, Maester, I— I am merely—” 

Her voice petered out as she realized quickly that she had no good explanation for why she had been feeling so out of sorts lately, especially when she had a very strong stomach otherwise. He smiled at her delicately and pulled a stool up to sit by her so they could speak. 

“When is the last time you bled, my lady?” 

“I—” She scoffed. “I cannot recall, but— Things have been utter madness lately, so that perhaps explains why—”

“I could perform an examination, my lady, to be sure.” 

Daena’s lips trembled and her left eye twitched. “Very well!” 

The Maester’s kind smile never wavered. He stood from his stool and quickly procured a small glass jar for her. “I will need you to urinate in this, my lady.” 

Daena scowled, but grabbed the jar. She knew of this test, and it would take the better part of the morning for the end results. But, she did as Gerardys required of her and handed him back the now uncomfortably warm jar. He seemed unphased, however, by the temperature and the smell. 

“I will allow this to sit, for now you return to your chambers. Come midday, I will have Oswyn bring you a tea— raspberry if you are with child and ginger if you are not.” 

“You will be discreet, will you not?” Daena asked before leaving. “And Oswyn?”   

Gerardys patted her hand. “You may count on it, my lady.” 

So long as he does not tell Rhaenyra. 

She spent the morning pacing the length of her bedchamber, scratching the side of her neck raw and biting her nails down to the quick. Oswyn came shortly after Bryna brought a small lunch of stew and bread that Daena could barely even hope to pick at for all her nerves. 

“Your raspberry tea, my lady,” he said, setting the small tray down on the table. 

She burst into tears in an instant, causing Oswyn so much discomfort that he stuttered out an apology and sprinted out of the room. 

Panic began to seep in, eating away at her bones and sending her to the floor in a nervous heap. The cuts on her knuckles and palms had finally healed to fresh skin, but she pounded the side of her fist into the rough stone anyway. 

Her father could not cast her out, not completely— not when she was officially his last living child. But that did not mean he would not spurn her, keep her sequestered away on High Tide with her bastard. She could not believe how stupid she had been, so careless and selfish. And she had done it all to herself. Leaving the tea to get cold, Daena followed after Oswyn, tearing down the corridors and up the stairs to reach Gerardys’s workshop. She blustered inside like a madwoman, but cared little for propriety at the moment.

“I’d like you to make me your strongest batch of moon tea,” she said, hands trembling so terribly that she could not even scratch at the itching on her neck. 

“My lady,” Gerardys said, voice dripping with sympathy that Daena did not want to hear. “If you are so far along that you are experiencing these symptoms, it would be too late for that… not to mention potentially dangerous.” 

“But— I— I—” She spluttered, unsure of what there was even left to say or do besides throwing herself from a tower to stop the situation altogether. “Maester, I’m ruined.” 

“Come now, my lady,” he said, putting his arm around her and guiding her gently to a seat, “You must not fret too terribly.”

It was not so easy to take the man’s advice, but Daena did her best. The quickening had not even happened yet, so there was still plenty of time for the pregnancy to fail before she would need to tell anyone. And if it did not fail, at least she would have the time to determine what exactly it was to say to Jace to convince him to pass off Aemond’s child as his own. Really, what she needed— now, more than ever— was Laenor. 

Which is how Daena once again found herself begging Rhaenyra for leave to go to Rook’s Rest. 

“I need not even stay,” she pleaded. “I just need to see him.” 

“You will not need to leave,” Rhaenyra said, reaching out to place a hand on Daena’s arm. “I’ve sent for him to return to Dragonstone now that Cregan Stark is only days away.”

Daena’s shoulders sagged in relief. “Thank you, my queen.”   

Rhaenyra only smiled and squeezed Daena’s bicep. “You will see him before the grand assault begins.”

Thank the gods. 

He would know what to do, what to say. He had been younger than she was now when he married Rhaenyra, under very similar circumstances to her being forced to marry Jace. He could help her solve the Aemond problem. 

Following supper, Daena made her way out to the gardens once more. The garden terrace faced west, just as the courtyard at High Tide did, and she could watch the sunset as though she were home. With the assurance that her brother would be on Dragonstone soon, she felt a touch more optimistic. 

The moment’s peace was quickly disrupted by the sound of soft footsteps she knew all too well. She closed her eyes and held in a deep breath. Aemond’s arm brushed against her shoulder.

“I have… been looking for you.” 

“Have you?” she asked, unable to recognize the sound of her own voice for how shrill it was. 

“Yes, I—” He stopped himself abruptly. “I feel I must say something, and I must beg you to allow me to speak without interruption. I fear if I do not say it all at once, I never will.” 

A bit dumbstruck, Daena felt her eyes flutter rapidly as she nodded. 

“You are promised to Jacaerys, and if you wish it, I will never gaze upon you again, but I do not believe you wish it,” he began, pulling all the air from Daena’s lungs. “I have loved you all my life, and I think you have always known this, but now I am leaving no room for speculation and rumor. I love you. Whatever it is we have shared with one another, I do not wish for it to end. It is dishonorable and treasonous, but I would do it all if it meant you turning your gaze upon me. I wish, my lady, to be in your life however you will have me.”

Daena was stunned to silence, merely staring up at him with her lips parted in shock. 

“I humble myself before you, Daena. I love you with an enormity I do not have the words to describe.”

She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth and sucked in a deep breath. Was this not all she ever wanted? A love that consumed. She opened her mouth to speak— though she did not know what it was she intended to say— and was cut off by Jace drawing near. 

“Daena.” 

Instinctively, Daena took a step away from Aemond despite them already being an appropriate space from one another. She looked over Aemond’s shoulder at Jace, with Ser Lorrent trailing behind him. His features were tight, pulled taut as he glared at Aemond. 

“I was hoping to speak with you,” Jace said. Then, after glancing once more at Aemond, added, “Privately.” 

Daena nodded. “Of course.” Then, she dipped her head towards Aemond— “My prince.”— and dashed away for Jace to follow. 

Once safe and away from the garden gate, she halted her steps to allow Jace to catch up to her. Ser Lorrent maintained his distance of thirteen paces, as always. 

“The greenhouse, instead, perhaps?” Jace suggested as she put her hand on the door to enter the castle. 

Daena nodded and allowed him to take the lead. Ser Lorrent did not follow them into the greenhouse, but rather posted at the door. 

“I thought this might be a good place,” Jace reasoned. “We can be alone but without tarnishing our reputations.” 

Daena avoided his gaze, biting the inside of her cheek guiltily. She had already ruined their reputations. 

“I spoke with Maester Gerardys earlier this afternoon,” Jace said, and Daena could tell he was easing into a conversation.

She cursed the Maester internally for not giving her the chance to confess her sins herself. It was a foul, underhanded move. One she did not expect from him. 

“He advised my mother and I that it would be in our best interests—” Daena closed her eyes and held her breath. “—if you and I were wed sooner than not.” 

“I’m pregnant!” 

The words burst from her lips before she could even consider stopping herself. She shut her mouth just as quickly as she opened it, sucking her lips inwards and curling her hands into fists at her sides. Oh, no. Jace blinked at her, chuckled a bit, and then frowned.

“But— Hm. Right, then. We shall be wed before the moon turns. I will tell my mother we— Well, I’m not sure what I’ll tell her, but I will tell her something.” 

“Jace—” Daena croaked. 

But he did not let her get another word out. “No one will know otherwise. So long as the child does not come out with red hair, who will be able to say it is not mine?” His brow furrowed for a moment as he paused for half a breath. “And the child will marry Luke’s eldest of the opposite sex so that my mother’s line continues.” He smiled, quite proud of himself. “Yes, that will do just fine.” 

The familiar sting of tears pricked at the back of Daena’s eyes. “Jace—” 

He put his hands on her shoulders and stepped closer to her. “All is well, Daena. This solves many of our problems.” 

It broke her heart how much of Laenor there was in him. Jace was not Laenor’s blood, but he was Laenor’s son all the same. She never ought to have doubted Jace’s response, especially when she knew neither of them wanted to have to attempt at making an heir. And having the child marry Luke’s only made perfect sense. 

The only fear that remained was only for what would happen when Jace realized the child was Aemond’s. As though able to sense her thoughts, Jace spoke again.

“Will the— the father be a problem?” 

Just an hour ago, Daena would have sworn he would be, but now— after that display in the gardens— she was unsure. The way Aemond had spoken, it seemed as though he would do whatever she asked. She also knew it would stoke his pride and ego to know that his child would be third in line to the throne. But would he be able to step aside and allow Jace to raise his children? Of that, Daena could not say. 

“He— The man— He is—” She smoothed her hands down over her stomach, trying to imagine the bump that would swell soon enough. “It is Aemond, Jace. Aemond is the father. We— We were together while on the island.” 

Jace swore quietly, but did not look surprised. He huffed and sank down onto one of the benches. “Why? After… After everything he’s done, everything he’s said?” He scoffed. “I understand his infatuation with you, but I cannot fathom yours with him. You have always treated him with fondness he has never deserved.” 

Crossing her arms, Daena continued to gnaw at the inside of her cheek. After a moment, she sat down beside Jace and clasped her hands together between her knees. 

“I cannot quite explain why,” Daena said softly. She sniffled and looked at Jace from her peripheral vision. “Perhaps it is because I know how hard his smiles are to come by, and yet he gives me his smiles freely.” 

“Utter madness,” Jace said, shaking his head. “You make him smile, but does he make you smile?” 

Daena paused and thought of Aemond’s absurd sullenness; of his bony ankles poking out from beneath the too-short pants of a commoner; of the way he curled into her as they slept and nestled his face into her neck; of how he balked when challenged; of the absurd amount of apples he ate from Mariyah’s stores; of the sapphire she gave him embedded within his eye. 

“Yes,” she said easily. 

Jace swore quietly once more. “Him calling us bastards, I can forgive— but what he tried to do to Luke? I still do not understand how my mother has allowed him to go free.” 

Daena sighed and took Jace’s hand in hers. “What Aemond did was cruel and foolish, but he did not set out to murder. I said as much the night I returned.” 

Jace’s face was unreadable. Then, “I would understand it more if it were purely out of boredom while you were trapped together.” 

Despite it all, Daena smiled. “So would I.” 

At the very least, that made him laugh. Hope for her relationship with Jace was not lost. 

“Do you love him, then?” Jace asked. 

Daena shrugged. “I know he loves me.” 

“Well, that we all know.” He offered a short grin and bumped their shoulders together, squeezing her hand. “Will you tell him?” 

“I won’t be able to hide it for very long, will I?”

“Yes, but are you going to let him believe the lie or will you tell him his child will one day sit the Iron Throne?” 

The thought was chilling. Her child— the one slowly growing within her belly— would be the most powerful individual in the realm one day. What an unfair life she was bestowing onto the unborn babe. 

“Only if we go forth with the wedding,” Daena said, scratching the side of her neck. 

He shot her an annoyed look. “I would not dishonor you that way.” 

“It is not dishonor if it was both of us wish for,” Daena said a bit miserably. “But, this was my mother’s wish. She never got to be queen, and so that dream was foisted unto me. And it is her grandchild that will seat the throne after you, and I feel duty bound to honor that wish.” 

“So, a wedding before the moon turns, then?” Jace asked, a grimace marring his boyish features. 

“Yes,” Daena agreed, shoulders slumping. “A quick affair in the sept, yes?” 

Jace’s brow quirked. “I would have assumed you would want a Valyrian ceremony.” 

“Only if we were in love,” Daena said simply. “That is not a ceremony meant for marriages of duty.”

“And as neither of us put much stock in the Seven, we shall feel no guilt for stepping out on one another,” he surmised.

Daena snickered quietly, staring down at her bony knees through the skirt of her gown. The guilt she felt was not for “stepping out,” and she was sure he knew that. 

“Do you hate me for what I’ve done?” Daena asked.

“I could never hate you, ñamar,” Jace said softly. “I do not understand it, but I do not hold it against you. The heart is a strange and rebellious creature. I know its nature well.” 

Of course. We both know what it is to want what you cannot have. Daena stewed in it for a while. Then, she heaved out a great sigh and patted Jace’s knee. 

“We shall face this together, yes?” 

His hand grabbed her knee in turn and squeezed gently. “Always and forever.” 

It made her feel only marginally better, but better nonetheless. With Jace and surely Laenor on her side, there was not much Daena would be incapable of accomplishing. The trouble laid in how honest Aemond was being when he professed his love, and if Daena could find it in herself to forgive not just him but herself. 

“Aemond was in the middle of confessing his undying love for me when you interrupted us, you know,” Daena said, beginning to giggle. 

“Oh?” Jace asked. “And was he doing a good job?”

Her lips twitched. “Very.” Then, she frowned. “I said nothing to him.” 

“Will you?” he asked. “Say something to him.” 

“I ought to,” Daena said. “It would be cowardly to not face him.” 

His head knocked gently against hers. “And you’ve never been a coward.” 

[saturnskyline]

hi. so i saw this gifset on the dash, and it's entirely too late for me to be awake doing this but i am now spiraling over kim's outfits. so anyway here goes nothing 👍

(below the cut is my descent into madness. you have been warned)

now when i saw these gifs i began musing in the tags, as one does, so here they are for context:

(feels truly unhinged to screenshot my own tags but oh well)

so once i started thinking i found it impossible to stop (as often is the case with this gay mafia business) and i decided to go through and look at each of kim's outfits. for science

now i know the fandom has looked at wardrobe stuff before, so it's very possible that someone has gone through this already. BUT! i'm already in way too deep here so i'm just gonna go ahead with this dfsdhgjsdf

kim's wardrobe is, to me at least, very interesting. you get a mix of things, depending on how he is presenting himself. for example:

(here we have wik, kim, and what seems to be something in between)

it's hard to differentiate between these styles at times, and i think that's purposeful bc kim appears to dart between personas: beloved singer, distant son, solo detective... the list goes on

so first things first! i was largely right about the jacket thing! in most every one of his outfits, he has some kind of jacket on. however, the first time we actually see him without a jacket is actually in this scene where he gifts chay with the guitar:

(hasty screenshot to prove my point and yet jeff is still doing the jeff thing. bless)

okay so i was wrong about that. i think the jacketless look is definitely intentional on his part – to help him seem unguarded, especially since he is giving a gift – but the first instance is still not the scene i thought it was. however!!! there is one thing i'm really excited about, and it's about the next thought i had in the tags...

every time kim wears white it relates to chay.

now you may be thinking, wren. is that really the case, or is this claim a bit of a stretch? and now i answer.... *gestures helplessly* some of this may be a stretch! but i can explain, and i will!

let's look at the instances of kim in white then, shall we?

#1

this, to me, is a quintessential wik look. far more approachable than the full black leather, and even his typical sleuthing fits (although a lot of it is in his mannerisms tbh, remember that withering look he gave big?). now this one miiiight be a stretch... but to me it still fits my thesis bc i feel like kim dressed this way for chay on purpose so he would look more like one of his peers. just my two cents

#2

first sleuthing scene where white is involved. here, kim is investigating porsche's (and therefore, chay's) parents, and he gets a call from chay, which he ignores. everything and nothing in this scene is about chay; he's not in it but he actually is. (now if you're thinking, wren, that doesn't make any sense... you are not the only one. idk what i'm talking about. let's carry on)

#3

our boy in songwriting mode! worth noting that, with the combination of the shirt and the pants, there is more white going on here than usual. here, instead of avoiding chay, he actively remembers him and even looks a little.. fond? *gasp*

#4

the confession scene :') this one is particularly interesting bc it's the same jacket kim wears when he's in full dark mafia mode (more on that later). like most instances of kim in white, it's a dark jacket with white peeking through, and this scene might be the best instance of that. he reaches back when chay offers his feelings, and opens the door to.. a relationship? idk but something with emotions

#5

(jeffrey, sweetie, i'm so sorry about the screenshot quality. consider it retribution for your gender crimes?)

NOW. here is the look that made me start this deranged analysis in the first place. not only is it sans mafia jacket, but it is a full white shirt! he cuddles chay on the couch! they talk (?) about their feelings (?) ... well i mean, he's clearly having a hard time being vulnerable, but at least there is progress being made :)

#6

(bad screenshot, bad moment. they r matching)

would you believe the next white-wearing instance is THIS MISERABLE SCENE. the jacket's back on, he's desperately trying to put up his guard again, and he blatantly lets chay think that he never had feelings for him (lies lies and more lies... we all hate it here :D)

#7

look. i'm aware this is the biggest stretch yet bahaha. i mean my man is dressed for SCHOOL. however. the focus of this scene is him learning that chay didn't show for his audition, so it still fits in my book!! idc idc

#8

(if you look at chay's hair here, this scene also has bisexual lighti- *gets shot*)

pretty self-explanatory, he shows up to the bar to fight chay's friends and confront chay. about as chay-related as you can get

#9

finally! the Human Shirt™ !! about as on-the-nose as you can get, really. while wearing a white shirt that reads "human" and no jacket, kim has, demonstrably, his most human moment in the show: he breaks down crying over chay. cue jeff acting his heart out while his own song plays in the background (why don't you stayyyy~)

#10

it's a flashback scene, but we see kim watching chay in the studio. he's mostly guarded, but a little white comes through. good stuff

#11

putting these together bc they are two different moments but the same outfit. 1) kim learns that porsche and chay have disappeared, and 2) he contemplates the state of things after korn's "death". i put the family moment here too especially bc of what he tells kinn: "you don't have time to think about other stuff anymore", basically "eyes on the prize". now perhaps this only applies to his older brother, but in the case that we apply it to him.. we can't really be sure whether he is sticking to his personal main goal or breaking from his own advice. i suspect the former bc at this point, he seems to see chay as his main priority, despite his family's situation (again idk if this makes sense, but just. go with it. lol)

#12

dare i say? the sexiest example?? no mafia jacket, full white shirt, and yet, unlike the other white shirt instances, this one isn't about his emotional vulnerability with chay. no no, here he takes out six guys without much difficulty, in an attempt to protect chay (and then he leaves the bodies, but still! the love is there!)

(a gif for fun! worth pointing out that kim also acts to protect chay the first time he wears that white shirt... :0)

in conclusion... idk what i am talking about, and frankly, if you are still reading this post i am very impressed lol. but yay kim's clothes and motifs, fashion as a disarming tactic, and white as a color of vulnerability!

[deathmybride]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ the craving | jack conroy (part 3) *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

ship: Jack Conroy x fem!OC

warnings: graphic description of a corpse, mortal peril

summary: The gang try to cross the cliff face near the frozen lake.

word count: 2301

a/n: Big day for White Fang fans lmao. I finally finished this chapter after having it in my drafts for like 8 months. Will I write more? Who knows. I think this fic will forever live in WIP hell, getting updates here and there whenever I rewatch the movie, much like my Dead Poets Society fic and everything else that I write… thanks for reading anyways and let me know what you think:)

We made good time the next day, covering a great distance with few obstacles. At times I ran ahead of the team to keep an eye out for upcoming danger; at other times, I stuck to the flanks or dropped behind a ways, scouring the woods for signs of the wolf pack trailing us. At this time I was a few yards ahead. My breaths billowed in white clouds, disappearing fast into the landscape like wisps of my spirit. The mountainside altitude made me feel weak and skinny, but I pushed on, eyes scanning the landscape for danger. I rounded a corner and stopped short. The ground gave way to a sheer slope that led down to a vast frozen lake, punctuated with jutting stones and scraggly trees that had taken root in the rock beneath the snow. The angle was sharp, but the dogs could handle it. I turned on my heels and sprinted back to the team.

 “Alex!” I shouted. “Big drop ahead. Goes straight down to the lake; we should be able to make it if we go slow.”

 We tried taking it diagonally. Alex held Connie on a short leash, half-carrying her some of the way to keep her from running everyone off course. I kept a hold of the ropes in the middle of the dog line, while Skunker and Jack held onto the sled at the rear. It was damn hard work. I could feel my shoulders burn with the effort, and the snow crumbled under me so I had to constantly work my feet to keep balanced. We were going well when something went wrong. It all went so fast that I couldn’t quite tell what happened. One minute, Alex had taken a slip, then perhaps Jack lurched or lost his foothold. All I know for sure is that my arm nearly ripped out of the socket at the force of the sled tipping sideways. I turned just in time to see the whole thing swing around, flinging Jack and Skunker over the drop as they gripped onto the handle for their lives.

 “Hang on, kid, I got ya!” By some miracle, Skunker managed to keep his hold on the sled and pull Jack’s hand up to get a better grip. “Just dig your feet in.”

The advice was for Jack, but I took it myself. I braced my feet into the snow and hooked my arms up around the rope to hold it to my chest. I looked over at Jack and watched as he scrambled against the slope. His wide, frantic eyes met mine and my guts turned to water as I realised he was slipping. Skunker scaled the sled like a mountain goat to pull it back up. I dashed to his side and heaved, the snow sucked at the huge wooden lump and made it feel a thousand times heavier.

 THWING!

 The rope snapped and the entire sled went sliding sideways down the hill with Jack hanging off the side. I was flung back by the force of it, shunting the air from my lungs. I dragged in a gasp with a horrible screech and screamed.

 “Jack!”

 “Get clear of the sled!” Skunker shouted. At least one of us was still competent.

 I’ll never know if Jack could hear us over the rushing snow and the echo of his own screams; but either way, he got free of the sled and began to tumble away from it, narrowly missing a few jagged stones, a splintering log, and several jettisoned items. Frozen in place, my eyes remained glued to him as he scrambled for purchase on the crumbling hillside, until it happened. The ropes tying the cargo down began to snap and all manner of gear and personal effects broke free of the chassis and flung away in every direction. With the knots loosened, the lid of the coffin slid suddenly sideways, and then caught on a snag and flipped away. As if time itself had slowed to show me the moment in all its terrible glory, I saw my father’s frozen corpse come free from its timber crate and rise up as if to stand and bow. His skin was blue-grey from days without breath, hair frozen in spikes, mouth slack as if sleeping, and Bravo’s snarling body still wrapped in his stiff arms. He slid down the hill feet first like a toboggan, then skidded out onto the lake, too far for any sane person to reach. A few cans scuttled alongside him, and one dog bowl came to a spinning halt by his head, ringing metallic on the ice.

 For a second, there was silence. If it weren’t for the wind that passed through the valley as if stirred up by some great unseen bird, you might have heard a snowflake fall. Then the moment broke with the sound of Skunker’s uproarious laughter. Alex was silent. He might have been looking at me, he might not. Another thing I’ll never know. All I could do was stare ahead. I might have stared forever if it weren’t for Jack’s shouting.

 “I’m okay!” He turned and flapped his hand over his head like a child, grinning ear to ear despite his puffing.

 I watched passively as he stepped out toward the lake, observing his behaviour as I would an animal. He held his hands ahead of him, but moved quite sure-footedly. It’s springtime. I thought.

 “Don’t move on that ice!” Urgency was a rarity for Skunker, and hearing it in his voice just barely managed to snap me out of whatever trance I was in.

 “Jack!” I started shimmying down the hill, then sliding. “Jack, don’t you dare move!”

 “I’ll get the ammo!” He looked back at me with a lopsided grin, like he was trying to impress me.

 “Like hell you will!” I got to my feet and sprinted to the lake’s edge, but he was already too far out to grab him. I let my voice fall dangerously low. “Jack, you come back here now.”

 “It’s fine, okay?” He half-turned and threw up his hand in annoyance, then shuffled out a bit further. He seemed fascinated with my father’s body, the robin’s egg blue of his lips, the final embrace of man and dog.

 “Jackie.” I don’t know where that nickname was conjured from. “Jackie, the ice is melting.”

 He ignored me, bent down, picked up the ammo bag, and straightened up. That was enough to destabilise the ice, and it seemed that he noticed it too. He stiffened, turning ever so slowly as the ice crackled like glass underfoot. He took a quick step back like the idiot he was and put his foot straight through, sucking his body and the ammo bag into the abyss below and leaving my father’s corpse bobbing in the narrow hole like a cork. It took everything I had not to run out after him, and thank God I didn’t. Something sucked the corpse down under the ice, and Jack emerged like a sputtering, screaming teabag. Perhaps he wasn’t such a goner after all. I turned on my heels and ran to grab a loose rope, but Alex had got to it first.

 “Hurry up!” He handed me the end. “Help me!”

 We dashed back over and flung the rope out to that sopping, freezing bundle in the water, and with Skunker’s help, we managed to heave him out and drag him along the ice without breaking it again. He screamed, retched, convulsed, like something we had dredged out of hell. Before I knew it I was pulling off his icy wet clothes while he moaned and lolled his head, in some terrible state between frantic and catatonic. His skin was colder than any living skin should be, and white as a ghost.

 “Light a fire, Skunker.” Alex’s voice came out calm, like this wasn’t the worst thing that could happen on a fine spring day.

 “He’s turning blue.” I remarked numbly.

 “Quinn, get these off him. I’ll get the blankets.”

 I obliged, stripping him down to his underwear, and murmuring gentle words in his ear. I wrapped him in the blankets like swaddling a babe, took off my coonskin and covered his quickly stiffening hair with it, securing the tail around his nose and mouth, and freed myself of both layers of gloves and pulled the inner ones onto his trembling hands.

 “Keep moving your fingers, Jackie, that’s it.” I rubbed his hands between my own with the ferocity of starting a fire, which reminded me Alex had sent Skunker to fix that. I turned to see him trying to light some wet wood and tinder, and felt a jolt of fury pass through me. “Burn the damn books, Skunker, ‘fore he dies!”

 Burn them he did. They were Jack’s books. It occurred to me I should feel bad, but I was just glad to have enough kindling to save his life. Thank God above we were carrying that dead weight around. The next half hour passed like a dream. I held Jack tight, as if the cold had sucked up all his weight and a stiff breeze might blow him away. I alternated between rubbing his hands, feet, ears and nose, determined to keep his blood moving until I felt the warmth start to stick in his extremities once more. I thought of nothing besides keeping him safe. I couldn’t face what had happened. Disgust, terror, anger. These things would come later.

 Alex served him pine needle tea before he went off to retrieve my father’s body. I had been through too much to stomach the nail-biting stress of watching him shimmy out onto the ice on his stomach, so I busied myself checking Jack’s extremities for damage, which happened to be almost nothing. He had no notable signs of frostbite except for a whiteness on the tips of his nose, fingers and ears, and his toes were completely fine. He watched me with wide eyes as I looked him over, and blushed deeply as I smeared a little beef tallow on his chapped lips.

 “You basting me up for cooking?” He cracked a smile.

 I forced a wane imitation of laughter. He fiddled his fingers.

 “You think I got away with it?”

 I picked up his hand and gave it another once-over. Nothing. Lucky son-of-a-bitch.

 “Yeah.” I concurred. 

 He paused for a moment, a searching look on his face, then spoke in a weak, boyish voice.

 “I’m sorry.”

 I let go of his hand, beating down the urge to cry, to beg him to go home before this place swallows him up.

 “Yeah.” I let out a shuddering breath. “Yeah, I know.”

 I left the fire then, took Connie off her leash and started walking with her trotting at my side.

 “Where’s she going?” I heard Jack ask softly.

 “Let her be.” Skunker said gruffly, and that was the end of it.

 It was dusk by the time I returned, but where I had been while the light died was a mystery to me. Of course my body had made a lap around the lake’s edge, but I had no memory of the journey save for the blinding sheen of the sunset on the glittering ice. My mind was with my father, scrutinising him. His coldness, his neglect, his quick temper, the way her could leech the life out of a room just by walking past the door. These were the things that made me hate him, yet against my will, I still missed him. I missed that he always knew what to do, and that when I lived by his side, I never had to worry about food, or shelter, or sleeping alone. Without him, what was I? A little lost girl in a land of unforgiving cold.

 The first time he left me, I clung to Scott Conroy. I loved the streaks of grey in his hair despite being only forty when he died, and the bundle of crows feet around his eyes. He had the kindest eyes I had ever seen, and the strongest rough-hewn hands that held me while I cried for my daddy to come home. But he was dead and buried, and who was left for me? Sure, Alex was kind enough, but I knew he’d cut me loose when we made it back to Klondike. He had his lady and enough money to sail south to warmer climes. I just couldn’t see him and Miss Casey adopting an orphan of the Yukon, least of all a seventeen-year-old. Who did that leave? Skunker? Half-mad foul smelling Skunker? I barely knew him, truth be told, and a father he was not.

 As I plodded over to the fire, Jack came bounding over to greet me.

 “Quinn!” He beamed. “You’re back! We were getting worried.”

 “You were.” Alex corrected.

 My heart was almost too heavy to reply, so I just muttered an apology and went on by. We ate in tense silence that night. Alex cooked my share of rice pudding for dessert, offering to no-one else. I supposed this was the rainy day I had been waiting for, but it tasted ashy in my mouth. I brushed my teeth and turned down my sleeping roll early, but I was restless. I wanted to get up and pace. With our supply of ammunition at the bottom of the lake, we were exposed to the pack. We should have made good time on them today, but being stuck at the lake with a sick boy on our hands had given them a huge advantage. 

 I had just started to doze when the dogs started to whine and fuss, and the first howl echoed through the woods like hell’s bells.