#but my ex-boyfriend in college was able to pull something similar asking me and get an answer

[thesporkidentity]

i figure this is a longshot, but i'm trying to find a book i only half-remember that i read in like 2005 or something like that, probably young adult. i remember vividly a scene with someone being stalked by a supernatural creature that has the rule where it can only get you if you look over your shoulder for it three times

ETA: It's The Haunting of Alaizabel Cray by Chris Wooding

[roundbellyramblings]

Britt's Maxed Out Tits

Another story using Maxi Corp, created by @expansion-growth-fanatic

Brittney Boulders used to be a record-holding porn star: Largest breasts. Technically, the largest implants, as each boob was 20000 cc. But since nobody came close to her cup size, she proudly took the title of biggest in general. In her most popular video, she gave two men a tit job at the same time and their cocks never touched. With that much saline, she stood out and was famous even if people found her boobs tacky or trashy.

Brittney retired from her career and settled down. She never reduced her breasts, she was proud to hold the record and she liked the attention she got from them. She married a former co-star and they had a baby. As time passed, things changed. The baby girl grew up into a beautiful college student. Brittney began to stand out less from the introduction of Maxi Corp. Her shirts and bras were no longer unique to her alone. It never bothered Brittney, she was happy with the money she spent to make herself the way she was.

Brittney was sad when she lost her title. A girl in California had grown to 50 feet tall. She wasn’t the bustiest around but when everything scaled with her height, her breasts took up the most volume. The record was changed to mean largest breasts compared to body size. But even that didn’t last for Brittney. She went from “Largest breasts” to “Largest augmented breasts (Non-Maxi Corp)”. It was a mouthful and didn’t sound sexy, so she stopped using it to brag about her implant stuffed boobs. But it didn’t stop her from showing them off.

Brittney never returned to the role she once had, but taking saucy pictures was a habit she would never kick. Her revival online was smaller in scale than some hoped, but still welcomed by all. She was happy to share her beauty with paying customers, especially now because she could brand herself as a milf. Tits her size weren’t hard to come by, a bottle of Titty+ would get the job done. But she knew what men (and some women) wanted. Her tits were fake, but her talent was all natural.

Brittney sat on her bed, dressed in only a shirt and underwear. She pulled the bottom of her shirt to show off even more cleavage. Puckering her lips, she winked into the camera when her phone suddenly began to ring. Seeing her daughter on the caller ID, Brittney quickly sat up and answered.

“It’s rare for you to call so suddenly. Are you alright?” Brittney asked, frantically.

“I’m better than alright! My second puberty is kicking in! I’m so happy with how I'm growing!” Emma squealed over the phone.

“That's wonderful Em! So what is it? Are you getting some big boobies like your mommy?” Brittney asked in a teasing tone.

Emma paused, before stuttering out an answer, “I, um, I don’t…”

“Oh, I’ll call Christophe! He hasn’t made me a bra in quite some time but I'm sure I can get him to make something for you sweetie!”

“You don’t have to do that mom.”

Brittney’s eyes lit up as she remembered something. Her lips curled into a devilish grin as she spoke.

“I'm sure your boyfriend is pleased with your changes. Is he treating you well? I want to meet him, he sounds so sweet from the way you gush over him.”

“Oh my gosh, Mom! You can't just…” Emma was flustered. Her parents were so casual about the topic of sex and constantly made sexual remarks. “I don't know if he’ll be able to come over break.”

“Are you embarrassed about bringing your boyfriend home to two ex-porn stars? He won’t mind my boobs, women all over have similar sizes.”

“No, it's because of your boobs specifically,” Emma said bluntly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Brittney asked, offended.

“Your implants. They're so old. Boobs should have some jiggle. Yours are weird, with how hard they are.” Emma spoke frankly. “I have to go, class is starting.”

“Oh, Ok. Bye Em, I love you.” Brittney said quietly.

She brought the phone away from her ear, only to find that Emma already ended the call. Dropping her phone into her canyon of cleavage, Brittney looked at herself in the mirror. Her shirt was stretched thin. Her two massive tanks of saline blocked her view of her stomach. She gave a few poses, cupping her breasts and giving herself a wink.

“Old? As if.” Brittney scoffed.

She was undeniably a bimbo turned milf. Her hand lingered on her boobs. She tried to give them a pinch only to find that her skin was stretched thin over the implants, as she couldn’t grab any. She then squeezed her boobs together. There was a slight compression, but Emma was right. Her boobs were rock hard and didn’t even jiggle when she let go.

“Ricky? Could you come here for a moment?” Brittney yelled out.

Footsteps made their way to the bedroom, where Richard opened the door. He found his wife posing in front of the mirror and found himself aroused. He never would have imagined he would have a fetish for back muscles, but seeing his wife’s back flex to hold the 40 pounds of implants she had, it made him hard every time. Her ass and hips were no joke either, but there was no competing with the modified and enhanced boobs.

Walking up to his wife, Richard hugged her from behind. He groped her boobs, causing her to smile. After a quick kiss, he raised an eyebrow as to why he was summoned.

“Do you like my implants?” Brittney asked innocently.

Richard's mind and body froze. There was never a moment that Brittney second guessed her implants. She told him that she would do anything to make her boobs the biggest. Likewise, there was nothing in the world that would make her downsize.

“I’m thinking of getting rid of them,” Brittney said while still rubbing them.

Richard wasn’t sure what was going on so he spoke objectively, “Your skin is stretched thin. If you take those out, you’ll have really saggy and flat boobs. I don’t think either of us want that.”

“Getting rid of isn’t the right term, then. I’m thinking of replacing them. They seem, I don't know, outdated?”

“Replace them with what?” Richard asked, intrigued and aroused.

ONE MONTH LATER

Richard went to open the door. Waiting on her porch was a young couple. They didn’t seem like salespeople, but they both looked like they worked at a gym. The woman’s face was turned, speaking to the man. She had long blonde hair tied in a ponytail. Richard wasn’t sure if she was dressed in workout gear or if that’s what women’s fashion was nowadays. But what he was sure of is that her pants emphasized her thick thighs and fat ass. Her crop top showed off her chiseled abs. The man had a familiar face but Richard couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Can I help you?” Richard asked politely.

“Dad, it's me,” the woman said, almost offended.

Richard’s eyes widened in shock. The last time he saw Emma was when they helped her move into her dorm. She was a skinny brunette that loved baggy sweaters. Emma was never fond of gym class, so seeing her as a bottom heavy gym bunny caught him off guard.

“Oh, Emma! I couldn’t recognize you with, um,” Richard needed to find an excuse quickly, “With your hair like that! You grew it out and dyed it. When did you go blonde?”

Emma was not impressed. She put her hands on her plump hips and pouted. Richard noted that the boyfriend’s eyes were glued to her jiggling ass as she shifted her weight.

“Mom never told you about my second puberty, did she?”

“No, she did not.” Richard said as he hung his head in defeat. “I’m guessing she forgot to tell me that you and Jack were coming as well?”

“It’s Jake,” the man spoke up.

Richard winced at his second mistake. He opened the door fully and simply let them in, not wanting to embarrass himself more.

“No, this is a surprise for Mom too. Where is she, anyway?” Emma said as she sauntered inside. Richard couldn’t help but notice that Emma changed how she walked to put more sway into her hips. Jake was obviously enjoying it.

“Upstairs. She’s either still in the shower or getting dressed. Go up and say hi.”

Emma went up the stairs, her yoga pants barely being able to contain her expanded curves. Her fat ass almost clapped with every step. Jake began to follow after her, or rather her jiggling booty, but Richard held him back.

“I know what it's like, women are sexy, but I have two rules.” Richard said sternly, holding up a finger. First rule is no tears. If you make my little girl cry, I’m kicking your ass. You understand?”

“Yes sir”

Richard held up another finger and continued, “Second rule is no babies. If you make her a mom before she graduates, I’m ripping your dick off. If you try to be a wise guy and make her waddle across the stage when she gets her diploma-”

“I understand.” Jake said, as he tried to put some distance between the two of them.

“WHAT. THE. FUCK!” Emma screamed from upstairs.

Quickly pulling in the boyfriend, Richard spoke in a faster and hushed tone, “Now that I have the intimidating dad stuff out of the way, let me tell you something. Emma is a lot like her mom. That’s a problem for us because they are both terrible at communicating. They mean well, but you need to learn how to figure out what they’re thinking and just agree with them. Arguing is not worth it with these ladies.”

Looking up, the men saw Emma fly down the stairs with a red face. A short sprint, even with the caboose she had, should not make her exhausted. Emma was clearly flustered and blushing.

“Dad! What did you let Mom do to herself?” Emma accused.

“Technically, she didn’t do anything. The staff at the store did the math and injections.”

After that phone call a month ago, Brittney decided to give into Maxi Corp. If they could make everybody have boobs as big as hers, imagine what they could do with her boobs. Brittney had a consultation and even paid commission for somebody to do the math for her. Her breasts were stretched tight from the implants, so her one rule was that her breasts could not sag. It took a week, but Maxi Corp was able to calculate the exact doses needed for Brittney to have her new dream tits.

The two college students looked up in awe while Richard looked on with smug approval. Brittney’s breasts now dwarfed her entire body. In fact, the trio could only see her head and shoulders. Brittney’s boobs were perfectly round and almost touched the floor. Her dress showed “little” cleavage, as her boobs were mostly covered. But there was still a yard of her breasts that could visibly be seen squeezed together. She held onto the rail and slowly descended the steps. Her breasts jiggled and shook the entire way down as she had to kick and feel for the next step.

As Brittney reached the bottom, Emma and Jake could take in all the changes. Brittany had taken out her implants and filled herself up on TittyMax until her skin was equally as tight. The change meant her tits were larger, heavier, and much softer. They were so big that Brittney had to take several doses of MaxiGrow and Muscle Max just to have the space and strength to carry them around. Brittney struggled to touch her nipples with her implants. Now, she couldn’t even see them.

“Jakey! Come give mommy a hug!” Brittney said with an eager smile.

Jake was frozen in place, a hormonal college student could only handle so much boob. Brittney simply engulfed Jake into her cleavage, resting her arms around his head.

“Mom!” Emma yelled, now red with anger.

She stomped her foot, making her booty and thighs jiggle. Richard hid his smile as for the first time, Jake’s eyes weren’t glued to his daughter’s posterior. Brittney fixed her hair and then turned to face her daughter.

“What’s the matter Em? I thought you said boobs should have some jiggle.” Brittney said as she swayed side to side, the only way she could jiggle her breasts while staying in place.

As her mother walked towards her, Emma had to look up. Brittney now stood seven feet tall, but nobody ever noticed from far away. Emma gulped, she could never recall a time her mother seemed mad or upset.

“Like mother, like daughter. You get horny when you're upset. How else would I come up with the idea to get tits like these?” Brittney spoke bluntly. “Go take your boy toy upstairs, I am not walking up those again. There's some Maxi samplers on the nightstand.”

Emma was mad that her mother was right. She needed Jake to fuck this frustration out of her. With a grunt, she turned and stormed off, grabbing her boyfriend's hand and leading him to the stairs. The couple ran up the stairs, Emma’s cheeks clapped together as Jake eagerly pinched and groped them.

“Meeting my parents isn’t going to be anywhere as fun as this,” Jake retorted as pull Emma’s pants down to give it a good smack.

“Shut up and fuck me.” Emma said as she swallowed various pills from the bottles on the nightstand.

Downstairs, Brittney and Richard gave each other a suggestive look. The couple didn’t have to lean over the counter or move to the couch, Brittney’s tits were a makeshift water bed. Opening her dress and standing inside her cleavage, Richard began to make out with his wife. Brittney’s boobs began to ripple as the tit job enveloped Richard’s whole body.

[silv3rswirls]

Rockstar

No one requested this I just really want bad boy Jungkook to ruin my life.

Lord save me I love the whole vibe of this Jungkook.

Summary: At a time like this, the last place you expected to be was some seedy bar downtown, but here you were drinking shitty beer and making eyes with the live band’s drummer. 

Warnings: Female reader, dirty talk/degradation, public sex (y’all fuck in an alleyway), alcohol, smoking/marijuana use, unprotected sex, slight strength kink, hair pulling, slight breeding kink? (not sure if this can qualify as that)

Word count: 4k

When you and your boyfriend broke up, you had imagined yourself laying around at home and drowning your sorrows in take-out and sappy romance movies. That’s what you had planned at least, but your friends had other plans. They had come to your apartment with plans to go to some little bar downtown. A small underground place that had been the talk all around campus lately. They had cheap drinks, live music, and seemed to be the perfect party setting lately. You decided to go after they pestered you enough, encouraging that this is what you needed after the breakup.

It wasn’t that you hated going out to these kinds of things, you just weren’t much of a partier. Sure, you drank at times, but never really let yourself go like a lot of students did. You had never seen anything wrong with this, but apparently, your boyfriend had. He broke up with you and cited his biggest reason as being that you were just too boring to date. And he did it over text no less. This guy had been your high school boyfriend and the relationship had carried on into your college years, you really hadn’t thought you would break up at this point. You thought, maybe it was for the best. He seemed way more interested in spending his college years partying and hooking up anyways, but it didn’t stop the hurt you felt over the breakup.

You knew he was a bit of an asshole and maybe that’s what you had liked so much about him, but besides that, the two of you had been together for so long. He had been your first boyfriend and kiss, he had taken your virginity, the whole shebang. He had been your only boyfriend as well, so your experience with anyone else was next to nothing, and in a way it made you feel a bit nervous about getting back out there. 

But, your friends usually didn’t steer you the wrong way so you thought why not? Maybe going out would be fun like they said. You would be going to a bar single for the first time, exciting right?

Honestly, it wasn’t.

You were currently sitting at the bar alone while your friends had found others to distract them. You didn’t mind, just wished you weren’t the weirdo sitting alone like this. You were taking a break from dancing as your feet were beginning to hurt and the crowd left you a bit lightheaded. The bar hadn’t been what you envisioned when everyone told you about it. It was a small place, some kind of obscure dive bar or something. The walls were packed with signs and posters, neon lights illuminated them in color. The stage was towards the other end of the place, relatively small with lights shining onto the crowded- they were currently red, bathing the whole place in its hue. A few tables and chairs had been pushed more to the side, but a few people sat and talked, played cards, or snacked on the stale chips left out. Fans spun lazily above you, doing nothing in the way of cooling the stuffy place off. Smoke moved around the dance floor fluidly, mingled with the stench of alcohol and sweat as people danced and crowded at the stage in excitement. There was laughter and smiles all around the bar, some intoxicated and others conversing with vigor. There was a wall of muted bottles glittering behind the counter, stacked with dozens of things you hadn’t even heard of before. Some looked intriguing, but you were content with the admittedly watered-down and cheap beer. 

The bar may have been a little rundown, but it soaked in the ambiance of a night of rock music and mistakes. 

You held your head, nursing the small headache coming from the dozens of conversations being had over the bass of the live band- some group you had never heard of and couldn’t even remember their name. It was good music though, not necessarily what you thought you would be partying to tonight. They dominated the atmosphere as the young crowd, made mostly of university students like yourself you assumed. You took a bitter sip of your drink, not quite drunk, but feeling it enough to slip into your feelings. You wondered if your ex would find this boring or not. Maybe the fact that you were sitting alone instead of enjoying yourself was enough to prove you weren’t exactly the life of a party. If only your friends would come back, you thought before finishing your drink and hoping down from the bar. 

“Hey, come dance with us!”

A group of girls around your age called you to follow as they made their way back into the crowd. You thought for a moment, before smiling and tailing after them. One held your hand as you pushed your way through the crowd, muttering sorries you knew no one could hear as you bumped and pushed. They took you to the front of the crowd, laughing and giggling as they accepted you into their group without a thought. You couldn’t help but smile as well, looking up at the band as they played. It felt a little unreal to be so close to them, the music pounding in your ears and the lights blinding you and staining your whole being in a red hue. Music filled the air so easily, the sound reaching everyone in the bar. Some let go and listen while others continue chatting, but it speaks out to them all in some way. You didn’t know the words but sing anyway. You yelled, so loud and raw as you got lost in the feeling; the anger and upset you felt over your ex fueling your desire to let go and have fun. It felt right, that moment. Intense and freeing as the vibration of their playing made your head tingle and your body want to jump up and down with everyone else. 

As you let yourself get lost in the atmosphere your eyes drifted across the young men playing before you and you catch one of their eyes lingering on you and between the brief breaks between songs you spare him looks that are barely glances and it feels like he’s doing the same. By the time their set ends you feel some accidental bond lingering between your shared glances and disappointment drowns you when you realize it’s time he leaves. 

“I can’t believe this'' You mutter as you step outside into the cool night air. You couldn’t find a single sign of your friends, so you assume they left you behind. Maybe it was your fault spending your time at the front with a new group of girls, they probably hadn’t been able to find you. Checking your phone you found a few missed texts from them and sighed. They had been your ride back home, but it looked like you would be calling an uber instead. Pulling at the hem of your dress as the cold breeze nipped at your thighs, you walked down the street a bit in search of a bench or something you could sit at since the bar had kicked the remaining customers out.

You jumped slightly at the sudden flick of headlights turning on as you walked past the alleyway between the bar and some closed-down restaurant next to it. Squinting a bit you spotted the guys from the band loading the equipment up. “Looking for an autograph?” You mustered a nervous smile as one of them looked over at you, his eyes locking on yours as you had with the drummer on stage. You hadn’t gotten the best look at the drummer while he was performing, the lights had been blinding and you weren’t able to make any specific details out on him. But he looked similar enough.

“I mean, If you're offering one?” He matched your smile waltzing up to you with a Sharpie in hand. He scanned you up and down quickly before telling you to give him your arm, so you did and shuddered at the feeling of the sharpie dragging across your skin. You inspected the autograph, just two letters scribbled fancily on your forearm. “JK?” you asked.

“Jungkook actually, and you are?”

“Y/n” you replied, looking up from his writing.

“So Y/n, how does it feel to have such a famous rockstar’s autograph?” You laughed, “you don’t seem all that famous just yet.”

Jungkook simply smiled and went on, “you know, I saw you making eyes at me from the crowd.”

“Oh really?” You breathed, feeling a bit nervous as he brought it up.

He hummed, “It was hard to make out, but with how hard you were staring I could tell.” He teased.

“Lucky for you then.” You shivered as another cool wind blew through the alley attacked your exposed skin. Jungkook seemed to notice because he turned to look at his bandmates before offering to let you come inside with him. You chewed the inside of your cheek, normally you would never even of gotten so far into a conversation with a guy like this. Maybe it was the shitty beer or the high of the show, but you felt a bit daring and accepted. You and Jungkook sat down on the old, scratched-up leather sofa found in the back of the bar. It seemed the other members badly packed up most of their belongings, as one of them ran around the room grabbing what was left. “Shouldn’t you help?” You wondered aloud and Jungkook only shrugged as he handed you a beer.

“They’re fine, right Jimin?” The member looked over at you two, taking in your presence for a second before smiling.

“Of course, we’re done here. See you later Jungkook.” He threw a wink in your direction before grabbing the last bag and hurrying out. 

“Isn’t that your ride home?” You fiddled with your beer bottle as Jungkook opened his up and moved to take yours and do the same. 

“I have my own. Don’t worry so much Y/n.” You nodded and looked around the small back room. Pressed on the other side of the room were some boxes and storage space, a rack with some old clothing, and a small television set up on a counter that ran along the wall. There was a table riddled with empty and half drank bottles and glasses, from the band you presumed. The back door was cracked open with a brick, so the cold draft still hit you. The place smelled old and dusty, liquor lingering in the air as you listened to the shuffle of staff cleaning up in the front. You and Jungkook talked for a bit, mainly about the show and his band and you told him a little about yourself. How you were in university across town and were just trying to get out with some friends who ended up leaving you behind. At first, you hadn’t been sure how hanging out with him would go, unsure if you had enough in common to talk, but it turned out to be easy. Jungkook, despite all the tattoos and strong build, seemed pretty nice. Of course, deep down you kept yourself aware of why you were here. You were pretty positive that Jungkook hadn’t asked you to stay behind with him just to talk, there had to be other intentions. Hoping for a hookup you assumed and while you weren’t sure what exactly you were doing here, it felt oddly right.

“So, your boyfriend didn’t care that you came to such a shitty bar alone?” You watched Jungkook as he stood up and walked to the door. He kicked the brick out of place and opened it all the way, sitting down in the doorframe.

“I don’t have a boyfriend to be mad at me” you sighed, “broke up like a month ago.” 

“Seriously?” He looked back at you, brushing his dark locks away. “What dumbass would break up with you?” You laughed and got up to join him in the doorway, watching as he fiddled with something in his hands as you sat down. He pulled a lighter out and lit the blunt in hand, looking over at you before offering. “Want a hit?”

You stared at him for a second before smiling, “you first.” He complied, bringing it to his lips and inhaling. He glanced at you as he did so, holding it out for you next. You held his wrist to keep him from shaking against the cold and leaned to take a hit for yourself.

“You’ve never done this” he laughed, watching you sputter and cough, your face scrunching up at the unfamiliarity. 

“Kind of?” You laughed, swatting at him as he blew smoke into your face.

“So tell me about him.”

“What?” “Your ex, tell me about him. He break your heart?” You scoffed, looked up at the building that towered above the two of you and to the night sky. Jungkook kept up smoking beside you, following your gaze lazily as he waited for your response. The truth was; you weren’t sure if you were heartbroken or not. The two of you had been distant for a while before breaking up, but there was still a certain sadness that sat within you. He was your first love and maybe if he had ended things sooner you’d be more upset. You were upset, but you felt more anger towards him than anything. 

“He, uh- he broke up with me because he thought I was too boring.” You laughed. “He was always more of a party animal, you know? I don’t even know how he managed to make me fall for him way back when...you know he did it over text?” 

“Shit, over text?” He raised his brows at you, a small grin curving his lips. “You must’ve been pissed.” He coughed through another hit. “So he thinks you’re boring? You don’t seem it. You should’ve seen yourself out there earlier, I thought you were wasted or something” he joked.

“Well, I don’t normally do this kind of thing. It was a last-minute decision to come.” You explained, taking a sip of your beer.

“I’m glad you did” Jungkook grabbed your hand to bring the bottle to his lips for a long swig. “You’re pretty cool.” You smiled, a bit taken back by the compliment. Jungkook held eye contact with you for a moment before his eyes drifted down to your lips and you can tell that he’s thinking about moving in closer, so you take the initiative and do it yourself. He’s just centimeters away from kissing you, his breath hitting your face, a mix of cologne, alcohol, and smoke hitting you. Before you know it his lips are on yours, cold and a bit rough upon touch. You can feel a swarm of butterflies eat at your stomach as you try to relax in his hold. His kiss is not at all the same as the ones you shared with your ex, it wasn’t inspired or felt like a chore; it was hot and a bit sloppily and sparks a new feeling of passion inside you.

Jungkook’s arm found its way around your waist, tugging your body closer to his while the other held the side of your face. His tongue finds its way inside your mouth and you feel a hand wander down to your thigh, resting a bit under the bottom of your dress as his chilled hands groped and pinched your flesh. Soon things begin to get more heated and you find yourself pulled into his lap while he kisses and sucks at your neck. You jump a little when you feel his hand slide down your waist and grab your ass. He smiles into your neck, breaking away to look at you. Your lips were shiny and red from the make out, your neck in a similar fashion as fresh hickies were making their mark. He looks at you intently, a desire behind his eyes that felt like had been forever since you experienced it. He’s practically undressing you with his eyes when he asks, “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” you nod immediately, living off the rush of hooking up with him- with anyone in so long. Jungkook grins and stands the both of you up, backing you against the wall and trapping you in another heated make-out session as his hands begin to wander over your body. Your back arches as he brushes over your chest, shuddering as he cups your breasts and squeezes firmly. His leg slips between your thighs, pressing against your pussy and rubbing the tiniest bit. You shifted under him, your face flushed as you felt yourself growing more and more worked up.

It felt like forever Jungkook continued playing and teasing you, but soon you felt his fingertips brush under your dress, fingers hooking around your panties and pulling them down. You reached to bunch your dress up farther for him, shivering as the cold air hit your sensitive skin. He squeezed your plush thighs, one hand slipping between your legs to touch you. “Cold?” He asked, amused as you squirmed under his touch, his fingers dragging up and down your slit a few times as he looked down at you, his eyes locked on yours as you merely shuddered and wiggled under him. His breath was hot against your skin as he went back to kiss at your neck, an air of neediness around the both of you as you moved your hips against his hand’s movements, hoping for some more attention rather than teasing. Jungkook’s forehead rested against your shoulder as he looked down at you, his face starting to flush in excitement as hard-on pressed against his jeans. Slowly he let two fingers dip into your pussy, taking in the feeling of you squirming and tensing slightly around him. You grabbed at his arm, panting and whimpering as he attacked your clit, rolling the bud between his fingers and pushing you to cum.

Feeling a bit impatient, Jungkook pulls away and ignores your whiny complaints. “Want me to fuck you?” He asks, not waiting for your answer as he works his jeans undone. “Turn around” he urges and you do so, your skin pressed against the rough of the bricks, leaving you to wince slightly, but ignore it as you feel his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him. You glance back at him, anticipation clear on your face until you feel the head of his dick press against your thigh before he adjusts himself to press into you. You gasp, a small groan hanging in your throat as he slowly pushes in. He takes in the sight of you bent over for him, your thighs shaking and muscles tensing under his touch. “Fuck, that’s it,” Jungkook’s voice comes from behind you, teasing as the edges of his lips ghost over the shell of your ear. You can feel his body over yours big and strong as he grips your hips tight, effortless moving you to meet his thrusts.

“J-Jungkook” You moan, writhing in pleasure and slight disbelief you were actually fucking a guy you just met. Your head turned at the sound of people walking by on the street. Suddenly struck with panic and the realization you were letting him fuck you in an alleyway. “There’s people-”

“Shh” Jungkook smirked, “better be quiet unless you want someone to hear you getting fucked.” 

“But-” you gasped as he thrust into you again, snapping his hips rough and picking the pace up. You bit your bottom lip, trying to hold in the moans threatening to spill out of you. 

“Don’t want anyone to see what a needy slut you are?” You dropped your head with a shake, whimpering as he reached to find your clit again, rubbing circles around your hardened nub. “You’re not doing a very good job” he commented

“Jungkook,” you whisper, your voice shaking before you let out a sudden, loud moan. It is almost hard for you to recognize yourself due to the desperation laced in your tone, need clouding your mind as you ate up the pleasure he was giving you. It felt like it had been months since the last time you really got off and despite the somewhat unorthodox situation, you were reveling in just how much it turned you on. “Only w-want you to see how much of a slut I am-” Your words fell off towards the end, drowned in your whines.

Jungkook eats up your words, grunting and groaning quietly to himself as he fucked into you. “Quiet, baby.” he mocks with a tease in his voice. You buried your face into your arms, clenching around Jungkook as you came, your stomach tensing up and moans muffled. “You’re so hot” Jungkook groaned, his hand running up your back and into your hair, fingers lacing themselves in your locks before tugging your face up so you were looking up. You squealed as he kept thrusting into you, shaking at how sensitive you felt. “I didn’t think you’d be so easy,” he commented, “but look at you, bent over all pretty for me.” Jungkooks voice was growing shaky, nearing his orgasm as he let go of your hair. “Where should I cum baby?”

“You can inside if you want” you breathed, breathless as you felt another orgasm nearing. 

“Shit, really?” You could hear the grin in his tone as he pounded into you.

“I’m on the pill.” You moaned,  a shaky please falling from your lips.

“Don’t worry baby,” he grunts “gonna fill you up.” You let out one last moan as Jungkook’s grip tightens on your hips and he stills his movements, shooting his load into you as he closes his eyes with a soft moan. You pant, taking in the feeling of his cum inside you, leaving you a dripping mess when he pulls out. He stands over you for a moment, catching his breath and admiring his work. “Fuck, so pretty,” you hear him murmur.

Eventually, the two of you find your way back inside, finding the restroom to clean up and come down from the romp you just had. Jungkook thought quiet helps you clean up and fix your dress. You take a few minutes to sit down and relax, you were feeling tired from the long night you had and you were sure Jungkook must’ve been as well since he had performed on stage as well. “Let me give you a ride home?” He turns to you as you gulp down some water.

“Well, it’s the least you can do, right?” You tease and Jungkook just smiles and leads you back outside. “Of course you have a motorcycle” you snorted, laughing in slight disbelief as he joined you.

“What else?” He asked, waiting for you to get the situation and wrap your arms around him. It was cold, but you closed your eyes as he drove, taking in the chill of fresh air and the soft rustle of the city around you. He took you home, dropping you off in front of your complex. He stopped you before you could leave, pulling out the sharpie and handing it to you. “Give me your number” he urged, letting you scribble it down on his hand.

“Call me sometime?”

He merely grinned with a lazy shrug, “Maybe.”

You watched him ride off from inside the lobby, chewing your lip as you went over the events of the night. “Whose boring now?” You laughed to yourself, the sadness your ex had left long forgotten. 

You weren’t sure if Jungkook would call, but sure hoped he would.

[ah-ga-seven]

Till’ The End Of Summer -  Chapter 11

>> series masterlist <<

Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Reader

In a Nutshell: College!AU, Rich Kids, Friends to Lovers, Fuckboy athlete Yeonjun, Overprotective Best friend Soobin, contains all of TXT and other Idol cameos, Omnipresent perspective.

Synopsis: You and Yeonjun are caught up in a cat and mouse game because of unspoken feelings and endless pining for each others’ attention. With the summer break approaching and lots of college parties, will you finally get a chance to explore your feelings for each other; even though the world and Yeonjun’s reputation makes things complicated?

Word count: 12K

Genre:  Angst, SMUT, Fluff

Warnings: very descriptive mature content, read at your own risk, I put a bolded warning at the start and closing. I also didn’t proofread cause well...12k words. I’ll get to it asap!

“What are you waiting for? Come in. You’re all acting like strangers to each other.” Your mom snickered as she wiped her hands on a paper towel so she could greet them properly.

“Oh, y-yeah.” Mia says as she steps inside, walking past Soobin without a word to greet your parents.

Your frozen state vanishes as you make eye contact with Mia, and you automatically start to walk towards Yeonjun with big, confused eyes.

You looked at Yeonjun, and he looked at you. The corners of his mouth lifting up a little as he opened his arms for you. You didn’t think twice about launching yourself into his arms, though your confusion got the best of you, you were still incredibly happy to see him. Your whole body relaxed as he enveloped you into his strong arms, patting your head as he buried his nose in your hair. “Hi baby,” he whispers into your hair. Closing his eyes to savor the peaceful moment.  

You look up with glassy eyes as he cupped your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb before he planted a kiss on your lips, followed by a sweet kiss on your forehead.  

“Did you miss me?”  

You nod bashfully, burying your face in his chest once again and he just chuckles, tightening his hold on you a little. “Me too,” he hums as the feeling of being whole and loved washes over him.  

It’s like you forgot your parents, Soobin or Mia were in the room. It felt like time stopped. As if it was just you and him in your apartment.

Your father cleared his throat, cringing at the scene. “You didn’t hug me like that when I came in.”

The comment made Yeonjun chuckle and you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you let go of him.

Soobin’s eyes were focused on Mia, but he snapped out of it as he heard your father speak. Putting on a smile at his comment. “Well, he was gone for almost two months,” Soobin says as he grabbed Yeonjun by his shoulders, smiling at him with love emitting from his pupils.  

Yeonjun chuckled, pulling Soobin towards him for a hug. “You could have given us a heads up.”

“He wanted to surprise you.” Mia chimed in quickly, giving Yeonjun a look that Soobin couldn’t read, and he didn’t like it. But maybe they did visit here to surprise you? All in all, he was confused at them showing up here together, but it seemed like you didn’t find it odd at all.  

“Let’s talk later,” Yeonjun says as his pupils dart from Soobin to your parents, nodding at them. ��

Soobin immediately understood, since they didn’t need words to communicate.

It was still awkward for Soobin to see you interact with Yeonjun like this, he wasn’t used to seeing Yeonjun being more whipped than heavy whipped cream for a girl, and since you were that girl it made it all even more awkward to watch for him.

“Give me a second,” Yeonjun says as he let go of your hand, making his way through your apartment to greet your parents.

You gulped at the sight, suddenly the nerves in your body were taking a toll on you and you unknowingly grab a hold of Soobin's hand who was standing next to you.  

Soobin raised his eyebrows, looking at your intertwined fingers and he scoffed with a side-smile. Whispering an ‘it’s ok’ to you in the process.  

Yeonjun was a charmer, he could make anyone like him by adapting his energy to theirs. For some reason, he thought your dad would appreciate it more if he went to greet your mother first, and so he did. Receiving an approving smile from your father.

“Hi Mrs. y/l/n, I’m Yeonjun.” He smiled at her brightly, taking her hand with both hands as he bowed to her politely.

You saw your mother's breath literally hitch in her throat at the sight of his smile and you roll your eyes at her.

Mia chuckled as well, and so did Soobin. Really? All it took was a smile and a simple ‘Hello’ and she was already in awe?

“Y/n, where the hell did you find him?” Your mother chimes giving you a shocked look and you curse at her through your teeth for embarrassing him and yourself

“Mom!” you whine, rushing to his side to grab his arm for comfort.  

Heat rose to Yeonjun’s cheeks as he giggled softly at the not-so-subtle compliment. “We actually kind of found each other.”

“Okay, stop before I throw up my lunch.” Soobin says as he plops down next to Mia on the couch, putting an arm around her.

Everyone chuckled lightly, and your father made his way to the kitchen as well to talk to Yeonjun.

As everyone was getting acquainted with each other, Soobin leaned into Mia.  

“You ghost on me for days and now you show up here with him? What’s going on.”

Mia’s mouth went dry, not wanting to ruin the moment given how happy you were to see Yeonjun and your parents together. She eyed your facial expression and melted. She hasn’t seen you this happy in weeks. She sighed, averting her attention back to Soobin. “I’m sorry…I had deadlines and stayed up all night, Yeonjun called me up to surprise you guys that’s it…”

Soobin’s hard demeanor softened and he wrapped Mia into his arms tightly as he pouted. “Oh no, my baby. Did you work so hard?” he cooed, babying Mia to his best ability; similar to how he baby’s Hueningkai from time to time.

Mia giggled, relaxing in his touch. “I missed you, I’m sorry. It was a really important deadline.”

“It’s ok…I understand,” Soobin says as he pecked her lips softly, staring into her eyes lovingly before pulling her closer to him on the couch. “I know I should’ve just trusted you, I’m sorry.”

Mia avoided Soobin’s eyes, feeling guilty about lying yet another lie but this just wasn’t the time.

“You’re on the team with Soobin?” your dad asked suddenly intrigued by the revelation.

You lean against your kitchen counter and watch your dad like a hawk, but he seemed to like Yeonjun already, especially if he’s this interested.  

“Oh, yeah. I like to believe I’m their star player.” Yeonjun states cockily, huffing out his chest while nodding to Soobin who just rolled his eyes at him.

“He’s good. Sure.” Soobin admits bitterly, making your parents laugh in response.

You smile at Yeonjun adoringly for being able to win over your parents so easily, something you didn’t think was possible given your track record of dating incompetent men. The two other boyfriends you brought home weren’t necessarily approved of. They were tolerated but not liked, and you could already sense that this was not the case with Yeonjun.

With every ‘I told you so’ you heard from your mom whenever you broke up with an ex, she made you realize that mama indeed ‘knows best’ but given the way she was looking at Yeonjun with stars in her eyes as he conversed about this and that, you already knew she’d see him as a keeper. Which made your shoulders drop in relaxation.

“I’d love to talk some more but this dinner isn’t going to prepare itself.” Your mother chuckled pointing to your kitchen area. There was literally no space left on your counter because of all of the ingredients and Yeonjun’s eyes widened.

“Do you need help miss?” Yeonjun offers politely, putting a hand on her shoulder as he smiled at your mother softly.

He couldn’t help but notice how similar you looked to her, how you have the same mannerisms and the same twinkle in your eyes. She smiled at him and shook her head. “No, that’s really nice of you to offer but I think y/n, Mia, and I will have it handled. Right?”

Mia got on her feet immediately and that’s the exact moment you notice her presence for the first time. Your eyes widen and you burst out laughing, giving her a clumsy hug as you cling to her. “Oh my god dude, I had no idea you came.”

“It’s ok,” she scoffs. “I know where I stand.” You playfully hit her arm as she rolls her eyes, and Yeonjun smiled at both of you, giving Mia a look you couldn’t quite read after he kissed your temple.

“I’ll be with Soobin and your dad.” You look back at him and give him an awkward smile while your brows furrow with concern. “Tell me when my dad’s being annoying ok.”  

He chuckled, crossing his arms in fake defense. “If I can handle you, I can handle anyone.”

The comment made your mother snort to herself as she cut up some veggies, and you just give him a kittenish angry face as he makes his way to the couch, plopping himself down between Soobin and your dad.  

He watched you for a while, the corners of his mouth curling up into a slight smile without knowing. He noticed how content and happy you were to be with a room full of people that you love, and his heart did a thing at the view.  

As he was getting lost in thought, his smile faltered while he thought of the reason he came here in the first place. Seeing you like this made it so much harder. He didn’t have the heart to wipe that pretty smile off your face and neither was Mia from the looks of it.

“Right Yeonjun?” Soobin cooed, snapping him out of his daydream.

Yeonjun’s head snapped back to reality, looking at Soobin and your father with big confused eyes. “Ah…sorry I wasn’t paying attention.”

“I know. You were looking at my daughter.” Your father chuckled, patting Yeonjun’s thigh, which made Yeonjun freeze in place at being caught. He nervously smiled, rubbing his neck awkwardly.

“Well, at least it’s super obvious he cares about her.” Soobin chuckled, putting his arm around Yeonjun to pull him back and trapping him into a hug.  

“You two seem pretty close too,” your dad remarks with a smile.

“Oh yeah, we live together,” Soobin says as he snuggles his head into Yeonjun’s shoulder.

“Stop that. I’ll get jealous.” Mia pouts waving her knife around as a warning and Soobin immediately let go, making everyone laugh in response.

Yeonjun looked back at Soobin with an amused smile. He furrowed his brows at Soobin as he something odd about his attire. “Are these my clothes?” he asks pulling on the black bedazzled Vetements shirt Soobin was wearing.  

“Oh…yeah about that…”  

“That’s more than he was wearing when we came in here, so be glad.” Your dad jokes, not noticing the damage he did.

Soobin coughed, basically choking on air, shooting your dad a look of desperation.

“What?” Yeonjun asks raising his eyebrows at Soobin. He was trying not to sound too annoyed given the presence of your father, but it failed miserably. If Yeonjun can’t hide something it’s his jealousy, he fucking hated it about himself but there was nothing he could do at this point.

“Ahh, hyung. It’s nothing. Seriously. She told me to change into your clothes since I crashed here but I couldn’t find your shirts, so I walked out and at that exact moment her parents were in the living room…I had no idea.”

Yeonjun squinted his eyes at Soobin but didn’t want to say anything else since your father was right in front of him. He didn’t want to seem possessive or jealous, even though he was. So, he decided to let it go for now. “We’ll talk later,” Yeonjun says through his teeth, which made your father laugh out loud, enjoying taunting Yeonjun a little too much.

When Yeonjun looked back at your father he saw a smug grin on his face, and Yeonjun knew enough. He was doing it on purpose to test him; and luckily, he passed the test.

“Honey! We forgot the honey.” Your mom says in panic as she rummages through the grocery bags.

“Are you calling me honey or…” your dad asks looking back at your her.

“Yes and no, go be a good husband and get me some honey.”

“Ok, honey.” He sighs exasperatingly, getting up from the couch with reluctance.  

Yeonjun chuckled, enjoying the dad jokes a little too much and you roll your eyes at him. “Oh my god.” Mia sighed. “I guess they found each other.”

You smile at them both lovingly but your smile falters quickly. You catch yourself being way too giddy and positive about life right now. You were so used to everything going completely wrong all the time that you wouldn’t let yourself have this moment of peace, serenity, and happiness without overthinking.  

Mia noticed, nudging your shoulder. “You ok? What was that?”  

“Nothing, I just…I’m really happy right now,” you say with a million kilo-watt smile, which made Mia’s eyes twinkle.  

You deserved this more than anyone after all the shit you’ve put yourself through to make your relationship with Yeonjun work. Guilt consumed Mia again as she averted her attention back on the task at hand, peeling these damn potatoes.  

“At least someone in this house appreciates my humor. I guess I’ll go get it then.” Your dad says as he retrieved his jacket from the coat rack.  

“Let me come with you.” Yeonjun volunteers as he got up with determination. “I can drive,” he offered, and your dad just nodded at him in response.

You blinked a couple of times to check if this was really happening. Your dad let Yeonjun come with him?  

You were taken aback by the fact that your dad allowed Yeonjun to come with him, and even more taken aback by the fact that Yeonjun volunteered to get grilled in the car. Knowing your dad, he’d probably lynch him alive with questions, and you felt bad for him already.

You give Yeonjun a look, mouthing a ‘Are you sure about that’ but he shrugged it off, giving you a reassuring nod.

“Ok, well…have fun you two, and don’t take too long.” Your mom nags as she continues to stir into the large pan on the stove.

“Yeah…hurry back.” You pout at Yeonjun and he chuckled, pecking your lips.

“Don’t worry.” He whispered into your ear, patting your head before he followed your dad out of the house.  

“This is your car? A Range Rover?”

“I-uh…it was a birthday present,” Yeonjun said opening the door to the passengers’ seat for your father.  

Your dad got in, looking at his surroundings with big eyes. “That’s some birthday present. What do your parents do again, son?”

‘Son’ wow, that’s a first.

“Uhm, they operate in software and applications, well my mom does. My dad is well….dead.”

“Oh, Jesus. I’m so sorry. I completely forgot.” Your dad quickly apologizes as he fastened his seatbelt.  

Yeonjun bit his lip, starting the engine. He wasn’t off to a great start. He wanted to keep things light and airy, but he should’ve known that a 22-year-old, driving around in a 50.000+ dollar car would raise questions with heavy answers.

“It’s ok. Well, I mean it’s not Ok. We had a complicated relationship. My parents were never really around so they compensated that with…gifts such as these.”  

“You seem well mannered though.”

“Yeah, my housekeeper raised me.”

“Housekeeper?”

“Ok, I’m sorry.” Yeonjun chuckled nervously. “Can we please start over sir? I’m starting to sound like a brat.”

“Only if you stop calling me sir” your dad says with a smile, patting Yeonjun on his shoulder which made him relax in his seat as he turned the corner on his way to the nearest supermarket.

“What do you think they’re talking about.” You nervously say as you munch on a rice cake.

“You.” Soobin shrugs, stealing a rice cake from the pan which made your mother slap his hand away.  

“Use a spoon!” she nags, making Mia laugh in response.

“I knew you guys were close, but I had no idea Soobin had a second mother,” Mia says comforting a pouty Soobin by rubbing his back.

Your mom smiled at Mia and looked back at Soobin adoringly. “Well, he basically grew up in our house, the same goes for y/n in his home. His mom and I went to college together, and never parted ways since.” She explains as she fishes a rice cake out of the pot with a spoon, handing it to Soobin so he could try it.

“Ahh, that’s gonna be us!” you giggle excitedly, smacking Mia’s arm.

Mia gave you a half-hearted smile. “Yeah…” she says lost in thought, trying not to make things too obvious.  “I hope so…”

“A guy as well off as you should have his options open. So why y/n?” your dad questions as Yeonjun and him walk down the aisles of the supermarket in search of the secret ingredient to your mothers famous stew.

Yeonjun chuckled. “She saw me for me before she knew who my parents were. We just really clicked. We share the same interests. We just get each other. Also, I did most of the chasing, she was not convinced at first.”

“How come?”

“Let's just say I didn’t make the greatest decisions. We really had to work on the way we communicate and though I’m still working on it…I do feel like we’re finally getting somewhere.” Yeonjun carefully explains as he skims the aisles for pots of honey.

“Can I tell you a secret about my daughter, Yeonjun.” Your dad starts lost in thought as he stopped in front of a shelve filled with different types of condiments.  

“Y-yeah…of course,” Yeonjun states standing behind him, putting his hand in his pockets as he waited for your dad to speak up.  

“y/n tends to see the guys she dates as projects. She wants to fix them and when it doesn’t work out, she’s the one left broken hearted, because she puts all of her soul and energy in trying to make things work…even if they don’t want to work.”

Yeonjun was taken aback by your father's statement. Projects? Men? What now?

“I...I don’t think I fully understand.”

Your dad turned round after having retrieved the biggest pot of honey he could find on the shelve, looking at Yeonjun seriously.

“You seem to care about her a lot. I can tell. By the way you look at her, talk about her. It’s evident that your heart is in the right place and that your intentions are good, but the last two guys she dated were similar to you, and I actually like you, so I would hate for you to end up as some failed experiment.”

Yeonjun blinked a couple of times as he followed your dad to the long line behind the cash register. “I never even asked her about her exes, are you saying she sees me as a project?”

“Oh no! God. No. She’s going to kill me.” Your dad quickly jumped to his own defense, looking at Yeonjun seriously.

“She’s never looked at a guy the way she looks at you, trust me. I’d know. She doesn’t even look at me like that.” He jokes to lighten the tension but Yeonjun furrows his brows in concern, which made your dad sigh at the sight.

“Y/n wants to fix people; it’s basically embedded in her DNA. I used to serve in the army, I wasn’t around as much, and her mother had a hard time with it. So, y/n took care of her from a young age. When I got back, she was hesitant around me, not knowing what it’s like to have a father around and all. Although we’re good now; it somehow scarred her in ways I don’t think she even knows about herself.”

“She…never told me,” Yeonjun says as they moved forward in line, he was too lost in thought to even comprehend what was happening around him, and just followed your dad like a lost puppy.  

“I think it’s because she doesn’t think it’s an issue. My daughter only knows how to take care of others, she neglects her own needs. You could call her somewhat of a wounded healer. She’ll do anything to make your relationship work Yeonjun, what I’m asking of you is to take care of her when she’s taking care of you.”

“Of course,…I’d do anything for her.”  

Yeonjun sighed dramatically. Of course, it takes two to tango. If he’s going to tell you that he wasn’t planning on going back to college, you’d probably blame yourself. He had to think long and hard about how he was going to break the news. For once he has the advantage, and he was going to do it right.

“All in all, it’s kind of my fault she’s like that. The fear of abandonment, not knowing how to put herself first, it’s because of my absence in her childhood.”

“So, to summarize this, she has….daddy issues.” Yeonjun blurts out without thinking.  

Your father snorted, holding in his laughter as they made it to the cash register, Yeonjun was too lost in thought to even pull out his card, though your dad would never let him pay, he wanted to make the gesture.  

It was already too late as the lady at the register handed the receipt to your father. And he turned to Yeonjun, looking at his fallen facial expression.

“See it as something you have in common with her.”  

Yeonjun’s eyes turned from serious to playful at the out of line comment your dad just made and he couldn’t help but laugh. “I guess so yeah, I guess we’ve been too focused on me and my past. This was really helpful thank you.” Yeonjun says as he took the bag from your father, carrying it to the car.

“Fix your flaws together, not separately.  If it works it works, and if not and you break her heart…I still have my gun from the army.”

Yeonjun’s eyes widen, and your dad laughs as he opens the car door. Enjoying his empty threat, a little too much. Yeonjun nervously chuckled as he got in the car again, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Got it.”

Your dad and Yeonjun walk in, and your heart finally started beating again. They looked fine, and your dad was even laughing with Yeonjun as they stepped foot into your apartment.  

Your eyes grow in size and Yeonjun immediately makes his way over to you, standing between your legs since you were seated on top of your dinner table to watch your mother cook.

“I’m back,” he says with a soft smile, pulling you in for a hug.

“What did you two talk about?” you whisper, your eyes follow your father as he hands your mom the bag with a quick kiss on her cheek.

Yeonjun looked at your parents, and then back to you with a smirk.

“Oh, nothing. He told me all about your ex-boyfriends that’s all,” He says nonchalantly letting go of you, but you hook your legs around his thighs to keep him from leaving.

“He what!?” you whisper-scream, but Yeonjun just shot you an amused wink, untangling himself from your hold to compliment your mother on her cooking.

Dinner was served pretty quickly afterward. Soobin and Yeonjun had to move your desk from your bedroom to extend your dinner table since your place wasn’t made to have 5 guests over.

Your parents sat across from each other as Mia and Soobin sat next to each other on one side, while Yeonjun and yourself sat next to each other on the opposite side.

The setting was intimate, candles were lit, and soft music was playing in the background as all of you made light conversation about your studies and how you all met.

When your dad and Yeonjun were gone, you instructed your mother to keep from asking deep questions to Yeonjun about his family for the time of being. You didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable or burdened to answer, especially since you didn’t have time alone with him since he returned, meaning you couldn’t really check on him given his unexpected return.

You could tell that Yeonjun was trying his best, but he kept zoning out and suddenly you feel yourself worrying about what your father might have said to him, so you decide to distract him.

Your hand found his under the table, and you intertwine your fingers, squeezing his hand while placing your intertwined fingers on your thigh just above your knee.

He didn’t think much of it, continuing to listen to Soobin ramble about their first encounter in the locker room during freshman year.

He was laughing, listening intently. He looked relaxed and you couldn’t help but stare. You start looking at his features one by one. At his honey skin and eye smile. At his cushiony lips as he chewed on the food your mother prepared.

Yeonjun looked down at you, feeling your eyes on him and when he caught you staring, he giggled shyly. “What is it?” he asked with a smile, but you just shake your head, guiding his hand up your thigh a little more, passing the fabric of your skirt which made Yeonjun’s eyes widen.

“Nothing,” you say innocently, raising your spoon up to your mouth with your free hand to take a bite as you guide his hand even higher up your thigh.

He basically choked on his food and started coughing, trying to untangle his fingers from yours. He grabbed a napkin, covering his mouth with it to muffle his coughing sounds.

“Yeonjun? Are you okay?” your mother asks in concern which made Yeonjun’s eyes travel to hers as if he got caught.

“Ah..y-yes, I need to chew more.” He chuckles apologetically.

“It’s delicious, the best kimchi stew I’ve ever had.” He compliments, which made your mother smile proudly.

“Yes! Completely agree.” Mia says.  

“You should all come over for Christmas, bring the other boys too. I can cook you a real dinner then.” Your mother proposes which made Soobin gasp. “That would be amazing!”  

Yeonjun smiled at your mother and Soobin, but you weren’t done taunting him.  

You ‘dropped’ your chopstick, the noise alerting everyone in the room.

“Oh, sorry. Let me just-“

“I’ll get it,” Yeonjun offers quickly, but you stop him.

“No, It’s ok, I can see it from here.”  

The attention of your dad, Mia and Soobin was quickly averted back to your mother so you took your chance. Grabbing Yeonjuns thigh, digging your nails into his jeans for leverage as you bend down to grab the lost chopstick between his feet.

He froze but knew exactly what you were doing and when your head dipped down, his eyes widened. This could NOT look right from the outside looking in.

He couldn’t believe you, first the whole shirtless Soobin ordeal, then the revelation of your ex-boyfriends you never told him about and now you are provoking him at the dinner table? What the fuck has gotten into you.

You come back up, letting go of his thigh and you innocently set the chopstick aside, raking your hand through your hair as you give Yeonjun a questioning look.

His eyes were burning into you, but you just shrug with a sly smile. “Keep this up. I dare you.” He whispers through his teeth, counteracting his threat by sweetly tugging a strand of your hair behind your ear.

He dares you? Ha. Ha. Ha. He should know by now that you’re crazy.

It didn’t take long before everyone was finished, so when you cleaned the table you made sure to reach for Yeonjun’s plate over his shoulder, brushing your arm over his chest and touching him subtly whenever you could.  

You could tell he was losing his patience with you but frankly, you didn’t care. It’s the least he deserves for basically ignoring you for the past few weeks and showing up here like nothing ever happened. Of course, you were happy to see him, but you were bitter, and you were going to make him suffer the best way you could.  

After dinner, dessert and tea you were completely stuffed and low on energy. You wanted everyone out of your apartment and your father was quick to notice the way you dragged your footsteps around your apartment. He proposed to leave not long after, and to your relief your mother agreed.

Soobin and Mia left first with a lousy excuse of finishing schoolwork but judging off the looks they were giving each other all night you knew better than that.  

“It was so nice to meet you, Yeonjun!” your mother exclaims pulling him in for a hug. He stiffens in surprise at first but relaxes in her touch instantly. As he let go of her, your father patted Yeonjun on his back and shook his hand firmly. “I guess we’ll see you at Christmas.”

“Yes. For sure.” Yeonjun smiles, and it in unknowingly made you giddy inside that he made plans to be with you and your parents so far in the future.  

He really wasn’t going anywhere this time, and you couldn’t be happier.

After exchanging hugs with your parents and promising to contact them more often they leave, and you sigh in relief.

_  WARNING: Heavy Smut ahead. Soft Dom!Jun, oral/finger play, size kink, choking, rough sex, playful banter, sweet/dirty talk and aftercare. _

When the front door closed the air got thick. It’s like your breath hitched in your throat and you knew the endless diner table teasing was about to get you in trouble.

You were almost afraid to turn around and meet his eyes. You halted your movements for a few seconds before you found the guts to do so and immediately regret it.

He stared at you through hooded lids, the dimmed lighting in your apartment was accentuating his features perfectly and romantically. He walked closer to you with slow strides, backing you into your front door as he trapped you between his arms on each side of your body.  

“In front of your fucking parents' y/n?” he starts, letting his fingers ghost over your bottom lip before he tugs at your chin, making you look at him.

You gulp with wide eyes, lust filling your senses as you basically see him undress you with his eyes.

“You’ve given me multiple reasons to completely wreck you today.”

Without a warning he parts your legs by propping his knee in between. Bending down to curl his strong arms around your thighs so he could lift you against the door frame. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist as your back hits the door frame with a loud thud.

You moan at his sudden actions and he was quick to shut you up by kissing you roughly. Trapping your lip between his teeth, tugging lightly before he started to pepper your neck with wet kisses and love bites.

He moaned against your skin, nails digging deeper into your thighs as he tightened his grip, making sure not to let you fall.  

“Did you miss me that much baby?”

You nod furiously, your fingers tangling into his hair as he kept kissing your neck.

You feel his teeth graze over the sensitive spot below your jaw that he just ferociously sucked on. A breathy moan escapes your lips as you tug on his soft locks a little harder to let him know you wanted his lips back on yours, but he didn’t budge, grinding his hips into yours as he kept sucking hickey after hickey into your delicate skin.

“Tell me you want it.” He growls, grinding his hips against your clothed core once more. He grins smugly against your skin as your legs shudder at the barely-there sensation against your heat.

Your body was reacting to him in ways he had only fantasized about and he was going to take his sweet time with you. The number of times you almost had sex was infuriating, and he was sure to go through with it this time, swearing to himself that the only thing that could stop him right now would be a fucking fire in your apartment building.  

“P-please,” you pant, throwing your head back as you feel his tongue glide down your neck, going straight for your breasts.

The anticipation was too much. You hold onto him as he pulled his arms from underneath you, hiking up your shirt enough to where he could expose your tits.

He licked his lips, approving the sight; skillfully unclasping your bra with one hand.  

A string of curses and praises left his lips as he started to litter your chest with kisses, sucking on your nipple while he made sure not to neglect the other by rubbing circles onto the sensitive nub.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful” he cooed, placing you back on the floor.  He hooked his arm around your waist to stabilize you as the other found the hem of your skirt all while his mouth was still busy alternating between kisses and bites on your neck, lips and tits.

Lewd moans left your lips as his long fingers make contact with your clothed clit. “Right here baby?” he asks sweetly as his middle finger starts to rub slow circles against the fabric of your panties.

“Yes, baby please.”

“Please what?”

“Please, more.”  

His fingers pushed the fabric of your underwear aside, making contact with your bare skin for the first time. Your slick surprised him; it didn’t take much to get you this wet so he could only imagine how juicy you would sound with him buried deep inside of you.

He licked his lips at the thought, your moans only becoming less controlled as he spread your wetness between your folds with his long, cold fingers.

You whine at his teasing movements, hooking your leg around his waist to give him better access.  

At that his eyes found yours again before he pushed his ring finger inside of you completely while still rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb.

The sudden filling sensation made you gasp. The hunger in his pupils only amplified as he listened to your wetness being fucked by his finger. You were tightening around him already making him smirk to himself. “Not sure if I should let you cum after all that.”  

You whine in response and grab on to his wrist down there while your head fell back, enjoying him pump a second digit into you at a faster yet steady and comfortable pace.

It felt good, too good, and you knew that he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

“You’re so fucking tight, and wet. Fuck” he compliments before he pecks your lips again.

“ahh, Yeonjun, I’m close.”  

He curled his fingers inside of you, fastening his rhythmic tempo as he kept thrusting his fingers deep in and out of you deliciously.

God he was good. He didn’t lose his rhythm, giving you something to concentrate on which only brought you closer and closer to your orgasm.

“I-I’m gonna cum” you whine, biting down on the skin of his neck to control yourself.  

He wanted to deny you your orgasm, he really did. But he was too whipped for you to care all of a sudden. Having you cum for him is something he fantasized about for months now, and he wasn’t going to pass up on the opportunity. At least not now.

“Let go baby, go to heaven.” He encourages you, lacing the fingers of his free hand through your hair tightly as he rested his forehead on yours while the speed of his fingers thrusting into you started building a little more.

Your legs start to shake as you feel euphoria approaching and with a few more hard yet controlled thrusts, you come undone.

You fall quiet as your orgasm washes over you. A squeal escaping your throat as he slowly pulls his fingers out of you, maintaining eye contact before you see him do the hottest thing you’ve ever seen him do in your life.

He brought his fingers up to his lips, sticking out his tongue and curling it around his fingers, licking your wetness off of it while maintaining eye contact with you.

Your chest was still heaving up and down as you were trying to compose yourself from the first orgasm Yeonjun has ever given you and your mouth goes completely dry at his beauty. You’re dumbfounded by his dirty actions as he smirks again, grabbing your face with both hands as he kisses you once more, a lot slower and more passionately this time.

“You taste like fucking candy baby.” he smiles against your lips and you giggle at his lewd compliment. Shying away from him as the embarrassment of your loud moans from before suddenly washes over you.  

“Don’t hide that pretty face,” he says as he makes you look at him again, placing both hands on your shoulders before blinking at you intently.

He smirked again, slowly pushing you down until you were on your knees for him. You placed your hands on your thighs, submissively staring up at him with big eyes, waiting for him to tell you what to do.

The sight made him groan loudly in approval, tugging on your chin with his hand while his fingers pinched your cheeks together.  

“Are you going to let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours?” he asks licking his lips, rocking his hips forward a little.

Your eyes land on the tent that had formed in his pants and you gulp given his size.

You look up at him again, nodding sweetly as you start to undo his belt while keeping eye contact with him as he tightened the hold he had on your face.

He helped you fasten the process by aggressively ripping his jeans open, helping you pull his jeans and boxers down simultaneously all while staring at your naked body.

His eyes averted back to yours, and he looked at your bewildered facial expression when his cock sprung free. He was huge, fully hard and he had pre cum leaking from his angry tip. He grabbed the base of his cock, laying himself across your cheek to compare his largeness against your small face.

It got him off more than he liked to admit, and he caressed your cheek gently, love emitting from his pupils as you lick your lips, waiting for him to push himself into your mouth.

You take over from him, spitting into your hand to slick him up. You start to slowly pump him, making sure to twist your wrist to cover his whole base while applying the right amount of pressure.  

“Fuck. Yes. Baby,” He groans in approval, throwing his head back as he enjoys your skilled hands pump his shaft steadily.

You keep eying his facial expressions and you feel yourself getting wet again at the sight of his enjoyment.

You open your mouth, sticking out your tongue to lick the precum off of his tip. The action made Yeonjun’s had snack back in response, but he was quick to avert his gaze back to you.  

He looked at you part your lips even more so you could take more of him, and you nod; blinking a couple of times as a silent okay for him to start pushing his cock down your throat.

He loved how you knew what he wanted, and how well you were taking him despite his size. To be really honest your experience kind of baffled him. He secretly wanted to teach you everything he knew, to corrupt you and make you his personal slut – in the most loving way possible – but given the way his dick was almost balls deep down your throat without a single gag or whine, he knew that you knew what you were doing.

“Holy fucking shit baby.” He hissed through his teeth, slowly thrusting his long and veiny length in and out of your mouth.

You were taking him like a champ, keeping your eyes on him as you stabilized yourself on his thighs. You hum in approval and the vibrations almost drive him insane. He bucked his hips, and you lean back, letting him pull out of your mouth completely before he came too fast from your mouth alone.

Watching him was the best part. He’s never been so riled up for sex and that was purely because of the fact that it was you pleasuring him.

He crouched down, giving you a sloppy kiss on your lips and you grin back at him, enjoying the amused glisten in his eyes. “Condoms?”

“Bedside table.”

“Then let’s fucking go,” he huffs, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder. You squeal and start laughing loudly, wiggling your feet around in protest.  

“YEONJUN!” you scream, smacking his back but he wasn’t having it, giving your bare ass cheek a loud smack before he swiftly opens the door of your bedroom, dropping you on the bed roughly.

As both of you were still laughing, he hovered over you, giving your neck a quick kiss before taking off his shirt and throwing it on the floor.  

He was completely naked now and you just stare at him, in awe of his physique. In awe of the fact that this toned, milky skinned man is all yours.

He noticed your gaze and the way your eyes were doing a full up and down analysis of his body. He stood before you confidently, snickering as he pulled you towards him by your legs, situating himself between your thighs.

He reached down to open the drawer of your bedside table as he leaned back, pumping himself with his free hand. The show he was giving you was one of heavenly proportions, and you weren’t sure if he realized just how hot he looked in the moment.

He scoffed, ripping the condom package with his teeth and discarding the rest of the foil on the floor.

“Why the fuck is the last one in the packet.” He scowls at you, rolling the condom onto his shaft without breaking eye contact and you can’t help but roll your eyes at him.

“I had a social life before we were a thing Yeonjun, now shut up and fuck me.”

“You’re gonna roll your fucking eyes at me while you’re lying in front of me like this? Bold move baby, I don’t think you know what I’m about to do to you,” he threatens as he leans into you. His hand now wrapping around your throat as he used his other hand to spread your wetness between your folds with his tip.

He silently aligned himself with your entrance, but you were too busy to notice, your mind completely occupied with his burning stare and the tightening hold he had on your throat.

Fuck you loved this, you loved him, and you were more than ready to feel him stretch you out.

“Don’t hold back.” You challenge him and he inhales sharply at the way you look under him, absolutely beautiful and bare. He pulls you even closer, making you rest your legs on each side of his shoulders.

“I won’t.” he smirks at you smugly, pumping himself a few more times as he kept staring at your body.

He didn’t ask confirmation for what he was about to do next, since he couldn’t wait any longer and honestly, the answer is pretty obvious. He pushed his tip inside of your tightness and eyed your reaction to him.

The stretch was intense yet heavenly, you licked your lips and watched his tip disappear in and out of you with ease.  

If his tip alone was making you feel this good than what the fuck was yet to come?

As you arched your back in pleasure, he knew he could continue with pushing his length into you a little further and so he did. You gasped simultaneously at the immaculate feeling of your walls tightening around his grit and he groans, being on the other receiving end of the sensation.

He slowly pulled out of you to do it again, and again, and again until you were comfortable enough to take all of him. He took his sweet time, enjoying your moans and mewls. He was nice enough to let you adjust to him, taking note when your body started to relax more with every thrust.

“S-so…fucking…big.” You were grabbing on to his wrists with full force, trying to take him without being a little bitch to your best ability but he was a lot to handle.  

You could easily take him in your mouth but since it’s been entirely too long since you’ve had sex with anyone it started to feel brand new, and his size wasn’t helping.

“U ok?” he asks as he kisses your temple sweetly, brushing your hair back with his fingers as he watches your face contort in both pain and pleasure.

He was sure to wreck you for your smart mouth, but the most important thing to him was your comfort, so he couldn’t bring it upon himself to live up to his threat.

You nod, burying your face in his neck as he starts to thrust into you a little deeper, agonizingly slow so you could adapt to him completely before he’d start to build up some speed.

“I…ah…I’m,” you start, but you’re unable to complete your sentence, too concentrated on being fucked by the love of your life.

Again, his rhythm was steady, almost robotic which gave you something to concentrate on other than being ravaged by his monstrous size. You were moaning, trying to form words but your mind was hazy. You were unable to tell him how well he was fucking you and how good he felt as your eyes roll back while he kept thrusting in and out of you with slow and deep strokes.

“Use your words baby. Tell me what you want.” he says in a whisper as he caressed your cheek with his thumb, finally releasing the hold he had on your throat this whole time.  

“More,” you moan, tugging at his grown-out hair on the nape of his neck and he growls in approval. Wanting nothing more than to be buried balls deep inside of you.

He silently caressed your thigh, taking one of your legs off of his shoulder, bending your knee up to your chest so he could plunge into you fully.

He watched his cock disappear inside of you completely and a low, yet throaty moan escapes your lips as you grip the sheets tightly, your knuckles turning white at how hard you were gripping at the sheets to deal with the stretch.  

He growled as he felt your walls contract around him, your tightness only edging him on to thrust into you faster and harder.

“Yes, baby. Yes!” you moan loudly, throwing your head back on your mattress, and he fastened his pace. Pounding in and out of you as he sucked on a newly found sweet spot on your neck.

“Ahh, so fucking tight,” he mused. “You’re sound so beautiful baby, fuck.”

He was praising you with every thrust. His pace steadily increasing, and you were just about to lose it.

You hated yourself for comparing him to your previous lovers in a moment like this, but you already knew that he took first place without a doubt. No one you’ve ever fucked came even close to how Yeonjun was making you feel right now.  

Your mind focusses on the steady pace of his thrusts again, your wetness combined with the dirty skin slapping noises edging him on to continue to fuck into you mercilessly.  

Your second orgasm of the night was approaching fast as you felt the knot in your stomach starting to form, and by the way you tightened around his cock even more. He sensed how close you were as your moans started to sound like pleading mewls.

He gave you a kittenish grin, biting down on your earlobe as he panted, moaning into your ear while his thumb found your clit, rolling delicious circles onto the sensitive nub. Applying more pressure with each of his thrusts.

“Y-yeonjun.” You gulp for air as you moan his name. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can baby, yes you can. Come on. Do it for me.” He encourages you with a low voice, wanting nothing more than to see you cum on his cock.

His thrusts were getting erratic, the mix of your moans, his grunts and skin slapping sounds filled your room and he bent your other leg to your chest, exposing you to him completely as he fucked into you harder and even deeper than before.

You watched him bulge in your stomach, the feeling being just as intense as it looked and Yeonjun could swear that he had never seen a more arousing sight. He bit his lip, watching you completely lose it under him as you throw your head back, letting him have you the way he pleased as you grabbed on to your sheets again for some type of leverage.

Somewhere inside of you, you found the strength to lift your head to look up at him and the view alone of watching him fuck into you animalistically was enough to make you come undone completely.

Your orgasm washes over you so intensely that your whole body starts to shock around him, your legs shake uncontrollably, and he leans into you, muffling your noises with his hand so your neighbors wouldn’t start complaining to you the next day.

With a few more thrusts, you tightening around him even more and the visual stimulation of your extreme orgasm, he came. His liquids filling the condom to the brim after he pulled out of you completely.  

You whimpered at the sudden loss of contact and squeal.

He was panting heavily, watching you like a hawk as you bring your hand to your forehead, panting as you press your thighs together tightly, hoping it would subside the tension.

_ end of smut _

You were trying to calm down, but your chest was heaving up and down so quickly that it almost felt like hyperventilation. You closed your eyes in order to concentrate on your breathing, trying to get your heart beating at a normal pace.

He was quick to notice just how fucked out you were and speedily discarded of the condom, wrapping you into his arms as he held you tightly, patting your head in an attempt to calm you down.

“Shhh, it’s ok, it’s ok.” He kissed your temple, and then your forehead, and then your nose, followed by a quick peck on your lips.

“Baby talk to me. Are you okay?” Concern was evident in his voice as you stayed quiet, still trying to catch your breath at the overstimulation you just experienced.

“I need a minute,” you manage to say, your voice hoarse and barely audible but he understood.  

He caressed your back in comfort, letting his fingernails graze your bare skin in up and down motions to calm you down and you did, your lashes fluttering as you open your eyes slowly.

He just held you, pulling the sheets over the both of you so you’d feel less exposed and warm.

“That was incredible.” You finally speak up, completely calmed down from your adventure.  

You were tired though, unable to do and say what you wanted since your brain didn’t allow you to.

All the muscles in your body were finally able to relax after being in a complete state of flux for over half an hour.

“Damn right it was.” He kissed your bare shoulder, massaging your scalp with his fingers, applying just the right pressure, making sure to help you relax even more.

“Stop, I’m going to fall asleep like this,” you mumble into his bicep, your eyes closing involuntarily at the divine feeling of his warm embrace in combination with the massaging motions of his fingers on your scalp.

“Then sleep baby.”

“But I wanna talk. I missed you so much.” You pout against his skin, blinking slowly to fight the heaviness of your eyelids.

“Me too, but we can talk tomorrow, and the day after that…and the day after that.” He lowkey reassured you of the fact that he wasn’t going anywhere, and his words made you smile to yourself since the confirmation was something you didn’t know you needed.  

You nod, a small yet cute yawn escapes your lips with a squeal and the sound has Yeonjun’s heart doing martial arts in his chest. “You’re adorable,” he remarks and chuckles as he covered your shoulder with the duvet, making sure you were completely covered and warm.  

“Goodnight baby, I love you.” He hums into your hair, tightening the hold he had on your waist while brushing your hair back as you rest your head on his chest comfortably.

You close your eyes overwhelmed with his sweetness and the love you felt for him.

This is where you belong, in his arms. Safe and sound.

At the moment you felt as though nothing could ever change the way you feel about him. That there was nothing in the world that could tear you away from him. You were his and he was yours, and you were sure your neighbors knew that by now too.

“I love you too, Yeonjun.”

You’re awake and happy, despite the soreness in your body.  

You already showered, got dressed, had a coffee but Yeonjun was still asleep. You figured he’d be spent given the trip from home and the sudden family reunion at your place followed by the sexy stuff that happened afterward; so, you let him sleep in. Not having the heart to wake him.

You collected all of your scattered clothes throughout the house and made sure to fold them up for Yeonjun as he slept.  

When you got out of bed you replaced your own warmth with a pillow that he was clutching on to as his lips were parted slightly. Breathing slowly with your sheets covering his manhood while his chest was covered by the pillow he was holding.

You adore him some more before you find something hard in the pocket of his pants as you fold the piece of clothing, retrieving the item from his pocket.  

Ah, his phone.  

The screen lit up automatically, and you didn’t mean to snoop; but her name on his display was enough to make you frown, using his asleep face for facial recognition to open up his phone.

[Mia, 9.21 AM]: Last night was a blow.

[Mia, 9.21 AM]: We need to tell them today.

[Mia, 9.22 AM]: Or else I’m going to lose it istg.

[Mia, 9.23 AM]: How tf did you manage to pretend like everything was okay last night?

You’re….so….confused.

You look over to Yeonjun and bite your lip.  

Stop overthinking.

Just ask him when he wakes up….it’s probably nothing.

Your eyes dart from him to his phone again and you sigh, hating yourself for what you’re about to do.

You check his recent call list, and your eyes widen. All you see is Mia’s name.

Missed calls, calls that went through, calls from him to Mia and calls he had with her in the week he was ‘too busy’ while ignoring you.

‘Don’t. Freak. Out. Play it smart, play it safe.’ you tell yourself. You quickly put his phone back on the nightstand and put the pile of clothes next to it.

Walking out of your bedroom and closing the door behind you.

Yeonjun woke up about half an hour later. He looked around your room, but you were nowhere to be found. He frowned, discarding of the pillow in his arms that he was hugging tightly and as he did, so he found his phone on your bedside table, on top of a pile of his folded clothes from last night.

He didn’t think much of it, thinking you were in the living room or something but when he opened his phone and saw Mia’s already opened texts, he sits up immediately in shock.

“Fuck,” he curses, kicking the sheets off of him. He put on his boxers with the speed of light while making his way to your living room. Empty.

Kitchen, empty.

Bathroom, empty.

“Shit baby, where are you…”  

“Hey, hey, hey. What’s wrong?” Soobin rushed over to you. You were seated on a bench in the park in front of your apartment complex, reading the screenshot you took from their texts over and over again to make sense of it all.

You told him it was an emergency, so he hurried to your side as quickly as possible.  

He hugged you tightly and your lip starts to tremble as you bite down on it harshly, trying not to cry.

“Soobin, I hope I’m wrong, I really fucking hope I’m wrong,” your voice was shaky and laced with sadness as you looked up at him with big and confused eyes.

“Y/n…you’re scaring me,” Soobin says as he rubs your back, sitting down next to on the bench.

You hand him the phone in silence, and he smacks his lips in confusion as he read it, his pupils darting back and forth in disbelief.

“What is this?” He manages to ask, not understanding what was going on.

“You said she was acting weird since school started, they have been calling each other all throughout summer even when the semester started. When he was too busy to reply to my texts, he was on the phone with her…” you stop yourself from rambling and look at Soobin.  

He looked completely hurt. “This…has to make sense somehow. Don’t think the worst of it. Mia would never do this to me,” he tells himself in reassurance. She wouldn’t. He had to believe it to stay sane.

Soobin’s last relationship ended with the girl cheating on him and if it was to happen again, he wouldn’t be able to take it. Especially with Mia. He has never had a relationship that he was so sure about before, but this…and with Yeonjun? Nothing made sense to him.

“I’ll call her over.” Soobin says through his teeth... “They’ve got some explaining to do.”

Your phone was blowing up with calls from Yeonjun but you didn’t pick up, waiting for Mia to get to your apartment. You lured her in the same way you told Soobin to come, hoping that she would race to be by your side just as quickly, cause if not; you’d know enough.

To your surprise, she arrived in no time, her face full of worry as she approached, but when she saw Soobin beside you with an equally fallen facial expression to yours, she stopped in her tracks.

“W-what’s going on?” She asks as she made her way to you, putting a hand on your shoulder but you shrugged it off, making her step back in shock at your coldness.

“Soobin…” Mia started but he sighed. “Let’s go inside first.”

Yeonjun sat defeated on your couch after a quick shower and a change of clothes, waiting for you to return home. He sighed, rubbing his forehead but when he heard your door open, he got on his feet in a split second.

He made his way to the front door watching you walk in with sad eyes followed by Soobin and Mia.  

Oh…no.

“Baby…let me explain.” He starts, taking a step closer to you but you took a step back as he did. Hiding behind Soobin who stood between you two protectively.

Mia’s eyes dart from you to Soobin to Yeonjun and suddenly everything clicked to her.

“You saw the texts…” Mia speaks, her eyes looking down at the floor.

“Someone better start talking, or I swear to god.” Soobin says clenching his fists.

“It’s not what you think. I swear. We came here last night to talk to you both, but your parents were here and y/n you were so happy…I couldn’t do that to you..” Mia says she gets teary-eyed.

“Do what to me!? What are you talking about? Stop being so fucking vague.” You yell at them, your gaze lingering on Yeonjun.

Mia sighed, throwing her head back, emotion getting the best of her.  

“Yeonjun…please…after last night…I can’t…,” you didn’t finish your sentence because he already knew what you meant.

“It’s nothing like that. I swear. Y/n believe me.”

“Then what,” Soobin speaks averting his gaze to Mia.

“I was keeping tabs on y/n through her.” Yeonjun says with sad eyes, and Mia slowly walked over to Yeonjun’s side so she could look at both you and Soobin clearly.

“What?” you say confused as ever, why would he do that? Why would he need to consult your best friend instead of talking to you personally when he had the chance to.  

“That night of the funeral, I noticed something weird about him.” Mia chimes in. “He was looking at all of you as if he was trying to remember your faces and something didn’t sit right. I walked into the kitchen to talk to him and…”

“I wasn’t sure if I was going to come back.” Yeonjun says, finishing Mia’s sentence.

Your heart dropped, looking at Yeonjun with disbelief.

“Y-you weren’t coming back?” you question in horror.

“And you knew?” Soobin says averting his attention to Mia.  

She avoided his gaze, playing with her sleeves.  

“Y/n…you don’t get it. There are so many secrets, so much baggage. So much pain. I didn’t want to come back to you unable to give you what you deserve. I needed to make sure my past didn’t haunt me back to school.”

“So instead of talking to me about it…you were going to ghost on me?” You were past being just hurt. The fact that it was so easy for him to turn his back on you was beyond your comprehension; and the fact that Mia basically aided him in doing so only amplified how damaged you were by the revelation.

You couldn’t even be angry. You were just sad, disappointed, and broken.

“Y/n…being in the know could get you hurt. If malicious people were after the company, or if my dad had enemies I didn’t know about… I could never forgive myself if something happened to you because of me. If I told you, you would never leave my side. You know that.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t have left you!” you sniff. “You told me you loved me for crying out loud!” you yell at him as tears spill from your eyes and Yeonjun broke at the sight.

“Please…please don’t cry.” He stood in front of you, grabbing your face to make you look at him but you push him off of you. “You could have told me before you decided to fuck me last night.”

Yeonjun gulped. “N-no, y/n. Please. It’s not like that.”

Soobin glared at Yeonjun, anger filling his senses until his eyes landed on Mia, his anger turning to sadness as they made eye contact.

“What he does is his business. I get why he’d want to handle his business before he returned. I do. He could have handled it better, but we already know that Yeonjun hyung is fucked up. But you…lied to me…for two months…you lied to me so easily…Mia…that’s…” Soobin’s disappointment was evident.

“I was just…trying to help.” Mia sighed wiping the tears from her eyes.

You couldn’t even look at her. All the heartache you went through, venting to her about how much you missed Yeonjun all while she knew that he had no intention of coming back made you sick to your stomach.  

“When will you stop choosing other people over our relationship?” Soobin says, his sadness turning back to anger as he raised his voice a little.

“That night when Yeonjun hyung and y/n fought…you rushed to be with her instead of staying with me to go together. You left me that night and I needed you.”  

“Soobin…don’t…please.” Mia was sobbing by now. The empathy in yourself felt bad for her, but she did this to herself, and frankly, you were still too mad at her to jump in her defense.

“Why did you do it? Why did you keep it from me?” You sniff as you look at Mia, her heart breaking into a million pieces seeing your distressed state.

“Because I didn’t want you to be hurt…” she replies through her tears.  

You can’t help but scoff, aggressively wiping your tears from your eyes with your sleeves. “This hurts way worse,” you say as new tears spill from your eyes. You were trying to breathe normally through your tears, but you couldn’t manage to calm down until Soobin grabbed your hand.

Yeonjun was looking at you, defeated as ever. He lost. Again. “Y/n…”

“No…” you stop him from speaking. “Please, shut up. I hope you had your fun with me last night. If I’m such a joke to you then please grab your shit and leave.”

“Y/n, stop. You know how much I love you.” Yeonjun pleads. He needs you to understand that he felt like he didn’t have a choice. That it was an either-or situation to him, but you were hurt and angry. You weren’t going to listen to him now and he knew that.

“No, no I don’t,” you say looking down, and Yeonjun’s heart shattered.

“I don’t think I can be with someone who can’t seem to get her priorities straight. I was always afraid I loved you more than you loved me” Soobin states looking at Mia with hollow eyes.

Yeonjun, yours and Mia’s eyes widen simultaneously at Soobin’s cold words.  

You swallow harshly, looking up at him. “Soobin…”  

He didn’t look at you as he bit his lip, tears filling the brims of his eyes as he kept staring into Mia’s tearful eyes “I need time,” he says raking his hand through his hair. “Alone.”

“N-no, Soobin. I-” Mia starts, but Soobin was already on to the next.

“And you,” he says diverting his attention to Yeonjun as he pulls you behind him protectively as if he was hiding you from him.

“You hang up this sad story about wanting to work on yourself, making sure y/n gets what she deserves from you. Wanting to keep her safe from god knows what. But you return just as fucked up as you left? Maybe even worse.” Soobin snaps, taking a step in Yeonjun's direction but Yeonjun didn’t budge though.  

You pull him back by his arm, giving him a pleading look to contain himself.

Yeonjun was looking at his best friend with sad eyes for a second until he avoided his glare, looking at Mia on your couch with her face buried in her hands.  

“You can’t be mad at her. I asked her to keep quiet.”

“I don’t give a fuck what you asked of her. She’s her own person, making her own decisions. As are you.” Soobin strikes back.  

“Was it worth it? Did you at least find something useful about your family?”  

Yeonjun shook his head in disappointment and looked at you. You were still looking down, clinging onto Soobin’s arm for leverage. You were sure your legs were going to give out on you if you didn’t hold onto him, so you held on for dear life.

“I couldn’t find anything. I came back because Lita helped me realize that my happiness is here. With you, the guys…with y/n.

You glanced up at the mentioning of your name.  

“Nothing back home outweighed what I have here... My mind was clouded by loss and sadness. I couldn’t think straight and completely lost myself in the company and dealt with grief the wrong way, but I promise, I’m getting help. I’m going into therapy, I’m going to be better.”  

Soobin scoffed. “Seeing is believing,” he states as he tugs on your arm.

“Let yourselves out. I’m not staying here to look at your faces.” he says as he pulls you with him

You stop in your tracks, your eyes darting from a lost looking Yeonjun to a broken looking Mia.

Leaving them in your apartment while you left felt odd, but you didn’t know what else to do at this point.

You lock eyes with Yeonjun and quickly avoid his stare, sadness washing over you as you see a tear spill from the corners of his eyes.  

“Let’s go y/n.”

The halls of the massive Vila were completely empty.  

Yeonjun’s mother had left for a long day at Choi Enterprises a few hours ago. Leaving Lita on her own in the house.  

Lita’s heels were ticking on the marble tiled floor as she made her way through the endless halls.

Her stride slowed as she approached Daniel’s old home office, looking over her shoulder before she retrieved a key from her pocket to unlock the door.

She walked through, closing the door behind her, making her way to the bookcase in silence.

Her fingers grazed over the shelves, looking for the 13th book from the 9th shelf, Yeonjun’s birthday.

Lita pulled on the book and stepped back as the bookcase folded inwards automatically, revealing a staircase to a hidden bunker in the house.

She looked over her shoulder once again, calmly making her way down the hidden lair.

It was dusty and dark. The only things left in the room being an old desk, a computer, a phone, and some vaults.  

She waited patiently before the clock strikes 5.53 PM.

The old phone on the desk rang, just like they agreed on and she sighed contently, clearing her throat before she accepted the call.

“I did what you said. The boy isn’t a problem anymore. He went back to that college.” 

She took deep breath. Relaxing at the thought of Yeonjun no longer butting in to her business.  

“We can proceed with our plans, I still have people shadowing him just in case.” she says as she smiled to herself.

“It will all be ours soon honey. We’re closer than ever now.”

Chapter 12

[notnctu]

to jaehyun, my first love ♡

To All The J’s I’ve Loved Before Series by notnctu ♡ jung jaehyun x fem!reader ♡ genre - fluff, slight angst ♡ wc - 2.1k ♡ warnings - explicit language ♡ synopsis - in which Mark accidentally sets you up on a date with your first love and ex-boyfriend, Jung Jaehyun ♡ taglist - @colpen​ ; @cestmoncoeur​ ; @hyucksberry​ ♡ a/n - i had to repost bc tumblr keeps randomly deleting our shit omggg pls ;-; let us know if you want to be on the taglist for the next ones!

Jaehyun,

I’ve never done this before, but the feelings you give me are too intense to not write it out. You’re like every dream come to life. A fairytale that came alive from the books. You remind me of a noble, quiet prince riding on his high horse. It’s not subtle, but not too grand to be overwhelming.

I think I love you. You’d be rolling your eyes at that word. It’s high school, what could I possibly know about love, right? And no, it’s not about you being my first boyfriend and my first kiss. It’s much more than those mundane things.

It’s the skipping of my heart when I’m the reason behind the dimples appearing. Or the butterflies I feel knowing that you, Jung Jaehyun, likes me back. I’m truly still in shock that you’re dating me. There are about two hundred people in this entire school and I’m the one who you send goodmorning and goodnight texts to.

My favorite day is still the day you asked me to be your’s. Cliche, whatever. But I’m not the only one who gushed at the sight of you holding the bouquet of my favorite flowers. Or the way you nervously couldn’t look me in the eye. You are the sweetest boy that has graced my life. I don’t know how I managed to get so lucky.

It’s a lie for me to not admit that I do feel insecure at times about our relationship. You’re not one to express your emotions or thoughts, you tell me it’s your actions. As your slow, yet improving partner, I am currently mindful of every action, like when you brush my hair out of my face because you want to get a good look at me. To see the real me. I like that the most.

Do guys feel these same strange intense feelings? Like my heart bursts thinking about your shy glances and your fingers tangled with mine. Whenever you hug me, I feel like I’m holding the very thing that makes me feel alive. I’m experiencing excitement, joy, and a weird burning sensation that spreads across my chest. It’s like we’re living a movie, but it’s better because it’s real life.

You’re the one, Jaehyun. It’s hard to explain and I’m absolutely being dramatic. But it’s not too far fetched. We’re still young, but I can see a future with you and how you want to chase your dreams with someone by your side. Don’t act like you don’t look directly at me when you say that.

Don’t feel pressured, I’m not asking for your hand in marriage just yet. I just have an inexplicable feeling that you’re someone that I’m going to love forever.

In this fairytale, do you believe in forever?

-from your hopeless romantic girlfriend, y/n

If anyone were to be blamed for this very awkward encounter between you and your ex-boyfriend, it would be Mark Lee. He went on for ages, boasting about some hot guy he wanted to set you up with since you had been single for quite a time. He only meant good intentions, so you could stop holding yourself in your apartment alone during the weekends.

And there was no possible way for Mark to know that his Jung Jaehyun was the same Jung Jaehyun you dated back in high school. Though, if Mark had been specific by telling you the mystery boy’s name, you wouldn’t have to be standing in front of Jaehyun in a stiff atmosphere intended for a harmonious date.

“I didn’t expect to run into you.” Stupid and you knew, you weren’t the only one who thought so. Jaehyun practically scoffed so loud that it physically pained you. Arms crossed, weight barred on his left leg, eyes rolled all the way to the back of his head. He was definitely expecting someone else who didn’t make a fool out of themselves.

“(Y/N), don’t act like we didn’t apply and commit to the same college. We were bound to see each other in some way.”

“Fine, you’re right. I guess, I didn’t expect it to be like this.” Your eyes diverted shyly to the ground as you played with the ends of your sweet dress. At this point, your bed and pj’s seemed much better than a rekindle of the mess you made.

Jaehyun cursed at Mark underneath his breath before running his hands through his brown locks. There was too much you wished to stare at. Jaehyun still managed to make your heart stop with his attractiveness. Time benefited him more than anyone else you’ve met from your past. Through his changes, there were the similarities you loved: the depth of his dimples, the softness of his skin, the charm with a simple look, the fluffiness of his hair.

He dug his hands into his jean pockets and pursed his lips together before saying, “look, I don’t want to date you again and truthfully, Mark never told me your name when he talked about you, so I don’t know what twisted setup you two planned for this to be.”

Your facial expression reacted before you could collect your thoughts at the harsh rejection, which was a complete spin from when he had first accepted your heart. You were really regretting the pitiful letter sitting in your childhood room at the moment and the fact that he was the first letter.  

“Listen, Mark didn’t mention your name either when he talked about the ‘hot, sweet boy’, so you can kiss my ass if you really think that I purposefully set this up to get back together with you.” Jaehyun’s eyebrow rose and his jaw tightened at your response.

“I’m supposed to believe that this was a mere coincidence or a sickly twisted fate that we ended up together again?”

It was your turn to scoff, roll your eyes, and cross your arms. “Like how I’m supposed to believe you’re the same guy that Mark raves about. You’re far from a kindhearted, wholesome person who volunteers at the dog rescue center and to think, I ever fell for someone who had the potential to be this arrogant!”

A quick spin on your heels sent you dramatically walking off to your car. Though, the sounds of heavy footsteps caught up to you and a hand closed your car door shut before you could step in. “I’m sorry. I haven’t completely forgiven myself and you for the breakup.”

“It happened a long, long time ago.”

“You’re right, but I still beat myself up to this day that our relationship could have been saved if we both didn’t give up.”

Sighing, you held his cheek gently and he faced you with hurt reflecting in his eyes. “We were young and stubborn. We gave up because we didn’t have the emotional capacity to fix it, Jae.”

He lit up at the sound of his nickname and how much he missed hearing it roll off your tongue. It was like a switch flipped on. “Haven’t heard you say my name in a while. I almost forgot how much I loved it.”

The appearance of his dimples and brightening smile caused a disruption of butterflies to swarm in your stomach. This feeling could only be produced by him and no one else. The true holder of your heart has returned and left you a bit unsettled.

If he hasn’t already charmed your pants enough, his cool lean against your car definitely sealed the deal. “Are you flirting with me, Jung Jaehyun?” Your narrowed eyes zoned in on the unmistakable smirk that plastered his face.

His lips rolled together, emphasizing the crescents in his cheeks more. “We can’t let poor Mark down. How about we try going on this date?” He paused to gauge your reaction, “so we don’t have to lie when we report back to him.”

“Fine, for the sake of Mark and because I’ll admit, I did miss your presence.” Every detail reminded him of the most amazing times he spent with you. It was like he was watching one of his favorite films or listening to a forgotten playlist that triggered all kinds of emotions he had felt before.

He jumped off the vehicle with the biggest gleam that was not present earlier. This was the Jaehyun you remember. He couldn’t contain his excitement and oftentimes, only being able to express his emotions through his actions.

“Well, you’re not one who’s hard to miss. I don’t think I can get your smile out of my head for the next few days.” You quietly pondered the thought of how easy this all was for him.

Hours flew by, endlessly chatting away to catch up with each other’s lives and reminiscing the good parts of your relationship. The restaurant had grown empty and quiet, to the point of being kicked out of the establishment. Before either of you could process the mutual feeling of happiness, there was a brief moment of wondering what the next steps of this was. He cleared his throat when you two arrived at your car.

“I had a great time today, Jaehyun.” The sadness in your voice was not unnoticed by him.

“Can I ask why Mark was so persistent in setting us up?” Jaehyun inquired as he took off his jacket to wrap around your shaking, exposed shoulders. His thin shirt blew wildly in the breeze, but he’d rather have you warm and him frozen by the night.

The tiny thanks escaped as a whisper and you hugged his scent tighter. “He just wants me to stop being alone on the weekends because that’s when he goes back home with his family.”

Jaehyun nodded knowingly, “I can still change that for you.”

“Don’t give up your weekends at the shelter for me and it sounds like you already have a lot on your plate.”

He chuckled delightfully and there was hope to hear it again. “I can sacrifice a few hours at the shelter to be with a friend. Plus, you’re important to me and like I said many years before, I want you by my side as I chased my dreams. Look, I’m sorry I didn’t reach out sooner. I take the responsibility of being bitter over something in the past and tonight really made me realize what all the anger stole from me.”

Jaehyun pulled you into an overdue hug. His cologne engulfed you like old times. “Just to avoid confusion, we aren’t getting back together.. ever.” His chest muffled your words, but he heard you loud and clear.

“There’s not a sliver of hope?” It wasn’t hurt that laced his question, but something light and playful. Jaehyun’s strong arms pulled away, but his hands dropped to hold yours. A small smile rested on his face, his lips looked as tempting as you remembered them to be.

“No, there’s not.” The mood shifted to a more serious atmosphere, but it was finally time to address the elephant in the empty parking lot. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m always going to love you. People don’t call it a first love for nothing. Back when we were still together, and I told you I believed in forever, I meant it. But that doesn’t mean my heart wants you back, I want you to be happy with someone else.”

Jaehyun’s eyes sparkled underneath the dark night sky, but he broke the gaze when he grew shy at how the conversation had turned. A warmth spread across his chest and suffocated him tenderly. “Nice to know that I’m not the only one that still holds you in a special place in my heart. You’re right, my first love is unforgettable. You are unforgettable.”

Warm cheeks and shy, averting eyes wrapped up the date nicely. And all of which was thanks to Mark, who cluelessly set you up with your first love. You coughed to fill the tense air, noticing the goosebumps that rose on his arms. “We should get going, it’s too cold to be standing out here.”

“Right, I don’t want you catching a cold. You know how needy you get when your nose starts dripping uncontrollably.” His laughter mixed with yours as you handed his jacket back to him.

Rolling your eyes, Jaehyun helped you open your car door. “Anyways, are you up for a movie night this weekend?”

“No horror movies unless you want to end up in my arms.” He winked and you punched his arm playfully at his flirty banter.

“Don’t push it, Jae!” You giggled, entering your car to shield from the bitterness that was abandoned to linger in the air.

“Okay, princess. I’ll see you at your castle real soon.” With that, he closed your door and waved a small goodbye. Watching his figure disappear into his own vehicle, you realized the thought that Jaehyun was always the reason you started to love. Even in this reality, he was the reason you believed in a forever.

[thiswasinevitableid]

Indruck 22 for the meet uglies?

Here you go! I went SFW on this one

you’re on a date with this awful, awful person who keeps getting under my skin because my friend and I have been eavesdropping all night and your date says something that makes me snap … I thought it was a first date, not a three year relationship

“...such a waste of money. I mean, why spend all that to get something tacky on your skin?”

Indrid rolls his eyes at Barclay from across the counter of the Amnesty Lodge coffee shop, the cooks arms and hands sporting a plethora of tattoos rivaled only by Indrid’s collection.

“I dunno, l like the one I got.” The other man--who seems to be on the worst first date of his life--shrugs.

“You honestly think you and Juno couldn’t have spent that money on something else in college?”

“I mean maybe but, uh, we were earnin our own cash, figured we got to decide what to spend it on.”

“Hmmmm” the first guy sips his coffee, “sounds like a typical excuse for someone who doesn’t want to admit a mistake.”

“C’mon, that ain’t fair-”

“Ugh, stop saying ain’t! I can’t take someone who talks like that to meet my family.” Before the target of his disdain can respond, he snaps his fingers, “hey, buddy, can I get a refill or what?”

“The station for black coffee refills is right there, sir.” Barclay indicates the very obvious corner of dispensers, his voice the kind of calm that Indrid knows means he’s memorizing this guys face to warn other staff about.

They earn a brief reprieve while The Asshole leaves the table. When he returns, he’s shaking his head.

“God, have you looked at the photos they’ve got up? Who the fuck wants to look at bones?”

Indrid quickly glances at his friend to be sure he’s permitted to start a fight. Barclay nods.

“Quite a lot of people.” Indrid spins on his stool. “I’ve sold a number of them just from the display here. So perhaps you could keep your rude, unclultured, close-minded, obnoxious mouth shut.”

The man balks, looks to his companion for help. He offers none, mouth trying to form words and only coming out with halves of ones (except for the “fucks” which are plentiful).

“Oh my fucking god, you agree with him! That’s it, I’m out.” The Asshole pushes back from the table and storms out. The remaining man leaps up, panicked.

“Fuck.”

“It’s okay man, shitty first dates happen to all of us.” Barclay offers from beside the bakery case.

“I mean yeah, they do, but that wasn’t one of ‘em. That was my boyfriend of three fuckin years.” He dashes out of the shop, sparing a final glare at Indrid as he does.

Indrid trades a sheepish look with his friend, “Oops.”

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

“I’m glad you finally get to meet Duck!” Aubrey grins over her shoulder as she and Indrid wind down the hall at the office Kepler magazine.

Founded by childhood friends, Kepler worked a combination of print and video content that saw its subscribers and revenue climb while other publications struggled to stay afloat. Aubrey was head of the video team, though she contributed content to the magazine in the form of interviews about environmental activists of color and sustainable gift guides.

Kepler has three sections: travel, science, and environmental writing. Indrid now has the honor of being one of their primary photographers. He started two weeks ago and is thoroughly enjoying his work and the company of the other staff. The only person he’s yet to meet is Duck Newton, one of the founders and main reporters, as he was off on an assignment.

Aubrey knocks, gets a friendly “come in” and ushers Indrid into the office.

Looking at him from behind the desk is The Asshole’s Boyfriend, whose face goes from open and friendly to confused, then to perturbed.

“You okay?”

“I, uh, fuck, n-ye.” Duck sighs, “remember how I told you Alex and I split after a shitty date in a coffee shop?” He points at Indrid, “this was the fella who, uh, expedited the process.”

“Ohhhh.” Aubrey frowns, then shrugs with a smile, “whelp, he’s our new photographer. We’ll see you around.” She hurries them outside once more, shutting the doors. As they head back the way they came, she whispers, “his ex was a huge fucking dick, so if word gets out everyone is gonna think you’re a fucking hero.”

“He didn’t seem to see it that way.”

“It was only a few weeks ago, so it’s still pretty fresh. He’ll heal from it okay, Duck’s a tough cookie. And I’m sure you guys’ll get along eventually.”

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

“Juno, please, you gotta come with me.”

“I would bud, except it’s April and I’s fifth wedding anniversary that weekend. And no, we already have plans, so we can’t just take over this assignment as part of the celebration.”

“Fuck” Duck leans back in his chair.

“...You really asked everyone?”

“Ye-no, fuck-”

“Duck.”

“I ain’t asked Indrid yet.”

“There it is.” Juno smirks, “you gotta ask; besides, we were gonna have him do illustrations for the feature, but photos would be even better. And we both know it ain’t his fault y’all broke up.”

Duck nods, promises to ask Indrid after lunch. He finds the photographer flipping through his files from his shoot for next issues cover. His silver hair is pulled back, red glasses sitting on the desk beside him so he can gauge color correctly.

Duck kind of wants to pull the silver locks just to see what happens. It’s not his fault Indrid looks like his Sophomore roommate who he had a raging crush on, only with more tattoos and a much more captivating face. Pity he helped fuck up Duck’s last chance at a stable relationship.

“Hey, Indrid, you got a minute?”

The photographer cocks his head.

“I, uh, so we got a feature on this whole chunk of places touting themselves as ‘sustainable romantic getaways. I booked a bunch of places, but a lot of ‘em will turn me away if I turn up solo. And the person I was supposed to go with ain’t an option any more. Neither is anyone else. You get my drift?”

Indrid pinches the bridge of his nose, “you realize this is a terrible idea, yes?”

“Hey, we been workin together just fine. Ain’t we? Wait, fuck, I ain’t been treatin you bad even when I’m tryin to be professional, am I?”

“No, you’ve been perfectly polite. But there’s a world of difference between being cordial in an office and going on what’s functionally a vacation together.”

Duck crosses his arms, “I ain’t about to lose eight hundred bucks in deposits.”

Indrid blinks, then chuckles, “Fair. What day do we leave?”

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

The temperature rises and the air dries as they speed south on Five. Indrid fiddles with games on his phone as cover for the list of “will this be a disaster or not” he’s mentally constructing. So far the signs are positive; Duck isn’t very chatty, but neither is Indrid. They have similar tastes in music, which makes much more sense when Duck explains he was a burn-out in high school. He also isn’t agitated by Indrid stimming, which makes it easier for the photographer to relax and enjoy the drive.

But they haven’t spoken about the elephant in the car, and Indrid resolves not to be the first to do so. No point in poking the sore spot if he doesn’t have to.

They stop at a Sinclair for gas. Duck reaches into his glovebox for something as Indrid climbs out, comes away with a photo instead. It’s one of those ones from a photobooth, faded but unmistakably him and his ex. His face falls for a second and Indrid scurries into the Dairy Queen attached to the convenience store.

As he waits in line, he turns one fact over in his mind like a picture he’s trying to make sense of; it would be easier to let their awkward first meeting go if he did not genuinely like the other man. He’s charming, in a quiet way, and very friendly. He’s built like the guys Indrid always got useless crushes on in college, usually third tier frat boys or--if he was lucky--a bear a few years older than him who liked his men on the odd side.

He doesn’t like seeing Duck sad. The sadness isn’t something he can fix. The stalemate between these two facts annoy the living hell out of him.

He’s next in line, glances up to confirm what he wants, and gets an idea. Last week, he overheard Duck talking with Aubrey about roadtrip snacks of their youth.

“One chocolate dipped cone, on me.” He holds the treat out to the other man.

“Oh. Uh, thanks. These are my favorite from when I was a kid.” Duck’s smile returns.

“I remembered. Or, ah, that is, I remembered you saying that.”

The smile changes, “you didn’t need to.”

“I wanted to. Shall we?”

“Yep. Uh, you gonna be able to drive and eat that at the same time?”

“Do not doubt my ability to consume ice cream under difficult circumstances, Duck Newton.”

They make it to their first stop unscathed. It’s what Duck refers to as, “eco-bespoke,” a fancy spa and hotel built in a former school, the kind that was made in an era of beautiful instead of grim educational architecture.

“Goats!” Indrid claps his hands, delighted, at the two animals stabled near the main building. One of it’s supposed sustainable elements is the small farm that helps feed the on-site restaurant. Duck smirks and Indrid suddenly feels the gulf in their upbringings, “Ah, I suppose they’re not exciting to someone who grew up in a rural town.”

“Nah, but they’re damn cute.” Duck checks the tag on their room keys, “okay, we’re in the green building, room 2B.”

Indrid snaps some photos as they cross the grounds, more to remind himself of things he wants to come back to later than anything else. He’s busy studying a strange mark on the wall by their door when Duck says, “I can sleep on the floor.”

“Why--oh” he stares at the single bed, “in retrospect, we should have seen this coming.”

“Yeah.” Duck drops his bag near the closet, slides the door to look for spare linens. Indrid summons his courage, finds it lacking, and so bolsters it with nonchalance.

“It’s a king, we could easily share.”

“You’d, uh, you’d be okay with that?”

“It is only narrow definitions of masculinity that mean something like sharing a bed is inherently sexual.”

He’s not entirely sure that made sense, but Duck nods, “You want the right side or left?”

“Right, please.”

“Great. And, uh, Indrid? Thanks for rollin with all this. I, uh, I know it’s fuckin weird but this is a huge feature for the magazine and we woulda been fucked if we had to pull it.”

Indrid gingerly sits on his side of the bed, “You’re welcome. And I don;t know about you, but” he smiles, catches Duck watching him intently in the mirror, “I’m enjoying myself so far.”

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

“Why has an activity that renders one incapable of using their thighs been deemed ‘romantic?” Indrid mumbles, face-down on the bed to offer his burning legs relief.

“Fuck if I know.” Duck groans as he sits next to him, “Kinda fun, but if I was doin this to get you in bed, I’d be fucked.”

“I am in bed” Indrid teases.

“And if I tried to put the moves of you you’d toss me outta it. Assumin I could even move myself that close.” Duck nudges him, then clears his throat, “uh, I mean, not like we’d be doin that-”

“Nono, point taken.” Indrid rolls over. The horseback ride was one of the “couples exclusives;” a trot out to a beautiful oasis for a gourmet picnic. Indrid got some excellent shots, including one of Duck with honeycomb dripping down his chin, which he will not be offering up to editors but may keep for himself. For it’s beautiful composition, of course.

Mercifully, their next stop is the pool. Indrid settles himself in the hot tub while Duck types some notes on his phone. Then his friend doffs his bathrobe and Indrid may as well be in a dream. In the steaming, echoing paradise of multi-colored tile and ecstatic shouts, Duck stands like one of the angelic fountains at its heart has come to life.

“You okay there, ‘Drid?”

“Yes.” He hopes his lack of glasses means Duck will mistake his blatant staring for trying to get his vision in focus.

“Then scoot your cu--uh, your butt over so I can sit down.”

Indrid gladly moves aside, finds he’s so comfortable with Duck pressed against him that he begins nodding off in the warm lull of the water. When the other man nudges him, saying it’s time to go, he finds a strong arm draped over his shoulder and Duck’s smile the most relaxed it’s been all trip.

Their last task at this location is to locate the speakeasy somewhere on the premises and order the “lovers delight” (only available to couples). To do so, they follow clues purple light bulbs, doors that lead to tiny, art-filled rooms, secret staircases, and a false supply closet to a dark wooded, dimly lit, incredibly pleasant bar looking out over the property. The drink turns out to be a massive goblet (more a bowl that someone stuck on a stem) of ginger syrup, prickly pear juice, and silver tequila.

It also turns out to be incredibly strong. So much so that when they get back to the room, Indrid loses his balance getting his shoes off, which makes Duck laugh, which results in both of them flopping onto the bed.

“S’fun. You’re, you’re real good at the clues. Should, should go to an escape room when we get home.”

“Wasn’t, hic, that hard. They, they want, hic, want you to find it.”

“Take the compliment, goofus” Duck pushes his shoulder.

“You’re, hic, the goofus.”

“Nuh uh.” Duck sticks his tongue out. Indrid does the same, then licks his cheek just to hear him laugh.

Duck rolls onto his back, giggles dying down to a contemplative sigh, “He woulda hated this.”

“Your ex?” Indrid crawls to stay close to him.

“Yeah. Everythin I like, or, or thought was fun, he thought it was a waste of time or just plain worthless. He, he wasn’t like that at the start. Dunno what changed. Probably me. Probably got borin. Got worse.”

Indrid is not so drunk that he believes he can fix this. But he’s just drunk enough to stroke Duck’s cheek and murmur, “No. Nono, hic, you’re th’best.”

He doesn’t remember falling asleep after that, but he must have, because his phone is beeping at them to get up and face the day. They do so with to-go coffees in one hand and their bags in the other, neither speaking of the night before until Indrid has turned the car into deeper desert.

“Sorry for gettin on a thing about Alex last night.”

“It was a three year relationship; goodness knows you’re allowed to have feelings about it.”

“Even relief?”

Indrid glances at him, “Of course.”

His friend leans back in his seat, sipping from his travel mug, “That’s half the reason I been in such a funk. I feel like I oughta be sad, then I feel guilty for the fact I’m relieved instead. But if I really was that unhappy in it, why did I hang around so long? Maybe that was the best I deserved, y’know?”

“I know the feeling, yes, but I can’t say I agree with your statement. You deserve someone who sees you for who you are and adores it, not someone who loved what you once were and became bitter when you grew.”

Duck looks at the console between them, at Indrid’s chipped black nails and the hand he hopes isn’t shaking. He squeezes it a moment longer than necessary, “Thanks, ‘Drid. It’s nice to hear that from someone who’s still gettin to know me. Juno and them, they’re my friends, I know they’re in my corner but, uh, sometimes I worry that anyone new is gonna find me dull or somethin like that.”

“I’m sure some people would, just as some take one look at me and decide I’m a weirdo who they don’t want to deal with. But I can say with certainty that I don’t find you that way.”

Duck grins all the way to their destination. It’s a quirky trailer park full of amenities and built mostly from salvaged materials, doing it’s best to run off the grid. It also gives each trailer a theme, and Indrid flaps his hands when he sees they’ve been booked in the “The Cramps” themed one.

“Hell yeah.” Duck mirrors his excitement as they open the door. Their haven from the desert sun is full of kitschy horror artifacts and a much smaller bed than the previous spot. There’s no debate this time; Indrid settles on the right, Duck on the left, and they settle in for a nap before venturing out to work.

They take in the bar, the arcade, the mini-golf course, and the “couples supply room” (“damn, didn’t know they made eggnog scented massage oil” “ooh, I like how that smells”), but Duck turns out to be most excited to rent a stargazing kit and guide Indrid out into the dark desert. They’re on their backs, shoulder to shoulder and munching chocolate covered fruit, when he discovers the source of his glee.

“There!” Duck points to a crackling streak of silver.

“A meteor” Indrid wiggles happily as a second one speeds through his view.

“It’s the Perseids, and this is a damn good place to watch ‘em. Look, there’s another one.” He’s breathless each time and Indrid’s heart threatens to beat hard enough to crack the earth at the sound.

“Did you ever wish on stars when you were little?”

“Yep. Never asked for much worth notin, though I’m pretty sure I wished once to just wake up and be a boy. Or, uh, guess for everyone to see me as one. What about you?”

“I wished...I wished for someone to do things like this with, some who’d kiss me and tell me that they didn’t need to wish because what they wanted was right here.. I love the world, I want to see so much of it, that’s half the reason I chose my profession.. But when I was young I thought I’d be with someone when I did. I thought it was easy to find that kind of love. To be worthy of it.”

“Hey now” Duck rolls onto his side. He’s backlit by the moon, meteors zipping behind him as if they, just like Indrid, are pulled to him, “what happened to all the stuff you said in the car about deservin someone who adores you?”

“It’s easy to apply such things to you, harder to believe them about myself.”

“How come?”

“Because you are everything a sensible person could want in a man and I am not.”

“That’s where you’re wrong” He sets a hand next to Indrid’s shoulder, “Can think of at least one sensible fella who wants to get to know you a whole hell of a lot.”

“He’ll get to know me plenty, we’re co-workers.”

“There are different kinds of gettin to know someone.” Duck dips down, brushes their noses together, “for instance, the last few days I’ve gotten to know you’re a damn good travel companion and that Ned was smart to hire you. But I’ve also gotten to know there’s some things about you I really wanna know.”

“Such as?” Indrid’s fingers find Duck’s sides.

“Such as whether you wanna go on a date with me when we get back. No assignment, just the two of us gettin some time together.”

“I want nothing more.” He leans up to kiss him, feels him shudder happily when their lips meet. Indrid wonders how long it’s been since someone kissed Duck like they meant it, and resolves to make up any deficits with an enthusiasm that would put horny eighteen year olds to shame.

Indrid nips Ducks ear, “you know, were it not for the threat of mosquitos and scorpions, I’d suggest we make good use of the non-food items in that basket.”

Ducks grin lights Indrid up like a comet, “Then howsabout we go test just how conducive our trailer is to romance?”

Indrid kisses him adoringly, “Lead on, sweetheart; I’ll follow you anywhere.”

[off-t0-the-races]

Notes: So, I decided to write a small story based on an ask I saw on @someone-worth-racing-for's page. In this ask an anon said how fun it would be to have an AU based on Friends, and since this sitcom is one of my favorites I couldn't resist. After many thoughts I finally took the courage to write this. It won't be a long story, just something simple and quick. I'm not a writer, the last time I attempted to write something similar was almost 11 years ago, so don't expect something great. To wrap this up, this story will be derived from the season 5; Episode 14 "The One Where Everybody Finds Out" and we will get to see how one of the friends find out about a new romance involving two of his best friends. I hope you all enjoy this!

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Daniel thought it was time for him to get his own place. It wasn’t like he didn’t like to live with the guys, no, he definitely liked it, but it was time for him to get a place that he could call his own, a place where at the end of the day he could go when he needed some peace and quiet. Besides, he and Max were getting pretty serious, so they also needed a place to go and get some privacy.

He didn’t spend much time looking for a place, one day he was walking home after some late class at college, and he saw an ad for a flat in the building right in front of the one he lived with his friends. Apparently, it was a one-bedroom just like he wanted, and the price was also good, he could afford it.

Next day, Daniel went there for a visit and he took his flat mates with him. Not long after they arrived at the place, they already found out that from the living room window they could see they own living room across the street. It was George who first realized it and it didn’t take long for all of them to start making jokes about how Daniel couldn’t live without them, he had to find a place where he could still see his buddies. Alex suddenly said he would be careful now; he usually didn’t care about clothes when going to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

The flat turned out to be perfect for Daniel, it wasn’t big, but it was cozy and functional. The landlord had said the previous renter let some furniture behind, so he wouldn’t need a lot of things if he decided to move in. And so, he did. After a few more days he finally had everything that he needed ready to go and on the weekend he, with the help of the other ones, did the moving. Max wasn’t there, he was out of town visiting his parents, but Daniel made sure he sent him some videos and photos of the place.

At last Max was back in town, Daniel was already living in his flat for three days when his boyfriend called from the airport saying he would go straight to the older’s new place so they could spend some time together without their friends hovering around. When Max finally arrived, the first thing he noticed was how big the living room windows were and how much of his own flat across the street he could see.

“Oh my God, Daniel! This is awesome!” The Dutch still had all his bags in one hand and was still standing on the doorway, but his eyes were already fixed on the windows and a big playful smile was spreading slowly on his lips.

Daniel, who was holding the door for Max to get in follow his boyfriend stare.

“Those are big windows, right?” he replied smiling.

“Are you joking? My mind is racing right now, how many pranks can we pulled at those guys from here, we should get some laser pointers!”

Daniel laughed out loud.

“Come inside, the neighbors might think you are insane. Which is not far from the truth…”

Max followed his boyfriend inside the flat. They kissed briefly before the Dutch dropped his bags next to the couch and went to the windows to see how much he could see of his place from here.

“Don’t be kinky about it Dan, don’t start to act like some creepy guy and stare at me all the way from here.” The Dutch joked, looking over his shoulder at Daniel, who was now sitting on the floor next to the PlayStation he was setting up on his new TV.

Max found out he could not only see the living room where he and his friends spent most of the time in, but a little bit of the kitchen as well.

“You know, I should get some drapes.” The Aussie observed, still struggling with some wires.

“Are you joking?” The younger one popped the question. “There’s no way you are getting drapes.”

Daniel laughed and shrugged, he was seriously thinking about getting the drapes. It’s all fun that they will probably be able to pull some pranks around, but it goes both ways. He was sure he would want some privacy at some point, and he knew his ex-flat mates too well.

A minute or two passed without a word from the couple, until suddenly Max screamed.

“Hey look, there’s Lando and Carlos!” The Dutch exclaimed, pointing his finger to the flat across the street. When Daniel looked up, indeed there was Lando and Carlos, apparently leaving the older one’s bedroom. “Should I call them? Let’s try it. Hey Landooo! Carlooos!!” Max was screaming over to his friends, but evidently, they couldn’t hear him.

“I don’t think they can hear you, babe” The older one said, with an amusing expression towards his boyfriend.

Max started to wave frantically at his flat mates, jumping a little up and down like a child, but even that didn’t seem to catch the other two’s attention.

Lando and Carlos had now sat on the couch with no personal space between them. From across the street, Max could see Lando smiling at the Spaniard and sometimes laughing a bit, as for Carlos he couldn’t really see his face, but he was clearly telling the British something amusing. The Dutch was about to try and call them one more time when everything changed.

With wide eyes Max saw Lando closing the small space between him and Carlos on the couch and kissing the older one intensely on the lips.

“Oh my God, oh my God!”

Daniel looked up when he heard his boyfriend screams.

“Carlos and Lando! Oh my God, oh my God!”

The Aussie got up and went to stand next to the Dutch, smiling broadly.

Max was starring startled at what he was seeing, his mouth hanging open stupidly. He looked over to Daniel, who was already starting to laugh watching the expression on his boyfriend’s face.

“It’s Lando and Carlos! Carlos and Lando! They’re fucking kissing!”

Daniel couldn’t hold back his laugh anymore, he just burst out, putting his arm around Max’s waist.

“Babe, sometimes you can be so naïve…” The Aussie said between laughs.

“You did know about this?” The younger one gasped, pointing a finger to the couple still kissing each other at the other side of the street.

“Well, not exactly” Daniel snickered “But I always suspected about them, you know. They’re always so close to each other and one day I saw Lando slipping inside Carlos’s room in the middle of the night.”

Max was still gaping at his boyfriend, his eyes couldn’t be wider.

“Come on Mad Max, you didn’t even kiss me properly when you arrived” The Aussie started to pull his boyfriend away from the window, taking him to the couch. Max was still having some trouble to keep his mouth close.

“Dan, that’s crazy! They’re together?! What the hell…”

Shaking his head, Daniel brought the younger one closer to him and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

“If they’re together or not I have no idea. But I know we are and I miss you, so come here before I get cross.” And without further ado he brought once more his boyfriend’s lips to his, this time laying him down on the couch and pressing his whole body on top of his.

Between the kissing, Max mumbled all breathy, glancing quickly at the window before diverting his eyes back to his boyfriend:

“Well, If you ask me again I do think you should get some drapes.”

Daniel roared with laugh, grabbing The Dutch by his hand and taking him out of the couch and through a small hallway, crooning in his boyfriend’s ear:

“You still didn’t see my room yet.”

_______________________________________________

That's it guys, I hope you have enjoyed it! I had fun writing this one, even if I struggled most of the time to be honest! 😅

But here it is, let me know what you think :)

[ghost-in-the-stalls]

What are ur tilda hcs?

Okay im finally gonna answer this!! Thank you so much for asking!!! I love receiving asks and I love sharing my headcanons. Sorry again it's so late ❤❤❤

This isn't gonna be nearly as well worded and eloquent as I originally planned. The first time I wrote it it basically became a drabble about her life. And then I lost that whole draft. Lmao

I just don't have it in me to recreate that whole thing again but I still wanna share my headcanons about her because I do have a lot!

I also wanna say this is in no way to like... excuse her behavior or try and redeem her. She was a terrible person. But people aren't born terrible. And I like taking 2 dimensional fictional women and making them make sense. So this isn't to excuse but instead to explain? I guess?

cw for all the shit you expect with the minyards by now, but specifically drug addiction and statutory rape. Also this is LONG so its going under a cut.

So first of all, I imagine her and Luther as being half siblings. Their father was a preacher or something- someone with a big role in their church's community and a big reputation of being a reliable, wise, holy man.

When Luther was maybe around 3 years old, there was this teenage girl in the congregation who would often come to Mr. Hemmick for advice, guidance, comfort, etc. She didn't quite fit in in school, wasn't great at academics and struggled to keep up with her siblings achievements, and was overall going through a lot of the turmoil thats unfortunately common for teenagers.

So she, like many people in the congregation, went to Mr Hemmick for guidance and ended up seeing a lot of him. She felt listened to and believed in with him. She felt like he treated her as more mature than the way her family treated her. She trusted him. He abused that.

If you asked her at the time, she would have said it was consensual between them. But she was 16. And when she became pregnant, he turned on her REAL fast lemme tell you. He made her promise not to tell anyone that he was the father, and he only told his wife. And of course, when he told his wife, he talked at length about how this 16 year old girl tempted him to sin; how he regretted it and only hoped she could learn to truly find God.

So he took the child in upon being born as a way to "attone" for what he'd done, but the whole community (not knowing he was the father) just saw it as an act of good will. And of course he'd tout off a lot in his sermons about how he'd be able to give the baby a much better, holier lifestyle than a teenager who turned her back on god by having sex.

So he and his wife end up raising Tilda from birth, but they make sure she knows from the beginning the circumstances of her birth. They drill it into her that her mother was a dirty sinner and that she herself is tainted as a result. She is raised always feeling like she needs to be twice as good to even be considered half as good as her brother in her parents eyes.

Naturally, she stops trying pretty early. In middle school, I imaging her being one of those bullies. The really nasty ones who get violent at their victims for even looking at them wrong. Idk about anyone else, but in my schools growing up the fights between the girls were always way bloodier than the ones between the guys. And I imagine those as the types of fights she got in- especially when one of her victims decides to stand up for themselves by throwing her own baggage back in her face.

By high school, she was thoroughly committed to the role of problem child. She would do everything she could to upset her family and get herself into shit. She'd do drugs, skip classes, show up to school drunk, stay out late, etc. In addition to all this, she would purposefully find whatever guy seemed like the most trouble and take him home. Whether this was the school drug dealer, a boy who got expelled for some rough shit, or college boys who caught her eye at parties.

So she's basically dug this hole for herself where she's committed to actually being the child of sin that her family has always seen her as anyway. The few people who tried to reach out to her wouldn't get far. She would push and push at them to see how far she could stretch their patience (to see how long it took them to give up on her like everyone else).

She even had one teacher who never did give up on her. But she outright told Tilda that she can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped. Those words would ring in Tildas ears for years to come, even if she never found it in herself to put the concept into action.

So eventually she'd graduate- just barely because she rarely put in effort in school- and she'd be left to suddenly have to find a place in the world when she previously never even thought she'd have a future. She started batting heads with her family even more (which no one thought was possible at that point) but it became less antagonistic on her end. She was still a shit stirrer, don't get me wrong. But she was getting tired. The fights were less about her being intentionally aggrevating and aggressive and more about her continuously being unable to live up to their expectations.

Luther already had a promising job as a cop at this point, meanwhile she was still living at home and bouncing between jobs that barely kept her afloat and boyfriends that barely made her feel worth something. She'd gotten into drugs in high school, and the habit only got worse now that she was out. It was the only thing that made her feel something other than misery or numbness. She could lose herself in the drugs and the boyfriends and the late nights out. She would come home to see her parents less and less and would speak to them only when absolutely necessary.

Eventually Mr. Hemmick died fairly young (heart attack or something equally as tragic. Whatever I dont care about him enough to pick the details) and his wife followed soon after by suicide. The house was left to Luther, who moved back in immediately and said there'd be changes in the household. He basically told Tilda to quit the drugs and go back to church if she wanted to stay in the house. He also had other rules like keeping a job, dumping her current boyfriend, giving her a curfew, etc.

So she left. She took her shitty beat up car an ex had fixed up for her and headed to California. A friend from high school lived out that way, so that's where she headed.

During this period in her life the drugs got a lot worse. This is also when she realized that she had become addicted. Mainly this is because, even after being away from her family and having freedom, she was still miserable. She didn't know how to get through a day sober. The constant variation between numbness and misery was too much to bare, but she wasn't ready to help herself. She wasn't ready to commit to her own healing and health.

She was in and out of therapy and rehab as quickly as she'd change jobs and partners. She wouldn't commit, and as soon as she had an out she'd take it. Had to miss an appointment for scheduling? Didn't make it back to the shelter in time to claim her bed for the night? Forgot to call back one of the few people who tried to reach out? No going back.

This is my main thing with Tilda. She was a shitty person who had a shitty life. But she never found the strength and commitment in herself to put in the work to be better. She instead let herself fall further and further down the hole because it was easier than pulling herself out. Because part of her still believed deep down that she had succeeded in living up to her birthright- that she wasn't deserving of ever healing or being better.

It was in one of these rehab facilities that she met the twins' father (and this part is absolutely inspired by Luke and Joey from the haunting of hill house). He was a guy with a similar past to hers- always sure he was meant to be bad so he committed to the role and never learned to commit to anything else. The difference between them, though, was that he was ready to get better.

They became fast friends and leaned on one another a bit while in rehab. She didn't see him as anything other than a friend, but he unfortunately became set on this idea that they would heal and move forward together. She knew he had feelings for her and enabled him (she didn't love him back but had never actually felt cared for like this before). He believed in her even when she didn't believe in herself, which was a lot. Unfortunately for him, he also ended up being more committed to her healing than she was. When she eventually started spiraling again, all other feelings for him were overshadowed by the part of her that just saw an opportunity.

She took advantage of him. She slept with him, took his money while he was sleeping, and bailed to get high and never see him again. Now I'm not gonna say she was just a devil who entered this poor man's life. He saw her more as a potential for an ideal life than a person. He was more in love with the dream he had of them getting better and starting a life together than he was actually in love with her and who she was as a person. Bad match all around.

So she never saw or heard from him again. When she found out she was pregnant, she went home to Luther and his wife and son. She didn't tell him right away that she was pregnant. Instead, she pretended she was just finally ready to commit to God and turn her life around. She played the part alright for a while, went to church with them and got sober and everything, but tried to leave and move into a women's shelter when she started showing. Luther found out and brought her home.

At first he was actually super supportive- mainly because he just genuinely thought she wanted to find God and stop "living in sin". But when she finally told him she didn't plan to keep the child, he turned on her.

We know the story from there. Personally I think the night that she stole the money and ran as her point of no return. Years down the line, when she knew she was being a terrible mother and person, she'd remember that night. And she'd think to herself how this is who she was always meant to be. How she doesnt deserve to be any better than how she is. And she'd dig the hole deeper.

-----

So yeah thats my take on Tilda Minyard. Sorry it was so long. I like the idea of giving depth and complexity to female characters- even the bad guys and the ones I don't like. I have a similar lengthy life concept for Mary Hatford as well, but it isn’t nearly as long. If anyone is curious lol

Thanks again for asking!

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Neverending Story

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)

Word Count: 11K

Genre: Married Life AU

Warnings: Smut and Language 

Summary: Y/N met her husband unexpectedly, and their subsequent relationship has been anything but predictable. But Changbin has always agreed to give Y/N whatever she wanted, but that is suddenly put to the test when Y/N takes things a step too far.

Note: The Holy Trinity of 3racha Married AUs is complete. @lordseochangbin​ I hope you don’t mind that I tagged you, but this is the fic inspired by that gifset from earlier this week.

Han Jisung had promised me a substantial raise, but after looking out over the podium to appraise the crowd of rich businessmen, I suddenly regretted ever agreeing to work for him in the first place. Because my boss was currently lying in his fancy upstate apartment dying of the flu while I was standing in his place with cue cards in hand to deliver an eloquent speech to a bunch of men who would probably laugh at my expense. But let’s also not forget to mention the fact that I’ve always been extremely introverted which meant that public speaking equated to sweat-drenched palms and the nervous sway to my gait as I rocked back and forth on my feet with hands behind my back.

 “Hello,” I spoke into the microphone, wincing when my voice echoed over the speakers. Apparently, the audio feedback in this ballroom was something out of the early 20th century before people had figured out how to work a sound system. “On behalf of Mr. Han,” I said, resisting the urge to lick away the last remnants of my cheap lipstick. “He would like to thank everyone for their support with his new summer project.”

A light smattering of applause, probably from those arrogant benefactors who liked to come into the office to kiss Jisung’s ass and compliment him on all of his successes. They didn’t mean a single word of the bullshit spewing from their mouths, especially the women who openly gaped at him right in front of my desk. “In regards to the company’s s-stocks,” I said, stuttering over the word while fumbling with my notecards. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been this nervous, mind working a mile a minute as I tried to desperately compose myself.

And because everything was already progressing this poorly, I started to lose my grip on the stack of notecards aiding my speech, watching as they fell to the ground and spread completely out of order. I immediately dropped to my knees, hurriedly gathering the notecards back into my grasp before inwardly cursing Han Jisung for what had to be the hundredth time that evening. I managed to collect the notecards together on top of the podium before gazing out into the unamused collection of wealthy aristocrats. “I’m sure it had something to do with fourth-quarter profits,” I said while clearing my throat. “Thank you for coming.”

I rushed off the stage without another word, drenched in sweat and failure, determined to make it out of the building before someone else could comment on the unfortunate incident. It reminded me of a similar calamity involving my asshole of an ex-boyfriend who had left me high and dry at one of his seminars to apologize to the people who paid to see his lecture. Why were the men in my life always determined to embarrass me?

With rapid steps, I was nearly out the door before an unfamiliar hand wrapped itself around my wrist. I paused with a wince, turning around to look at the rather handsome gentleman who was waiting patiently behind me. “I’m sorry,” I apologized quickly, assuming he must have something to do with the event. I’m sure he was not pleased with my humiliating display, especially when tonight's proceedings had been touted as a professional gathering. “Mr. Han couldn’t make it tonight and I was trying to fill in for him. Please don’t let this reflect badly on the company.”

A smirk graced his sharp features. “Don’t apologize. I thought it was great.”

“Excuse me?”

“The speech was great,” the man continued, dark hair falling into his eyes like a curtain. He let go of my wrist before offering me a more professional greeting. “Seo Changbin.”

“Seo?” I repeated, searching my mind for any mention of that name. I dealt with a lot of rich men when it came to scouring the city for potential leads, sorting through dozens of profiles every day I walked into the office. Usually with a cup of coffee in hand because Jisung wouldn’t be able to function otherwise.

“I own a line of hotel chains,” Changbin nodded. “Does that sound more familiar?”

His tone was teasing. “I do remember now, Mr. Seo.”

“Ah, don’t call me that,” he insisted. “You don’t have to put on an act like the others.”

I smiled at his easy-going nature. “Well, I’m glad you were at least entertained by my speech.”

Changbin glanced up at the door behind me. “Were you leaving already?”

I followed his gaze, albeit more hesitantly now. “I was planning to.”

“Good,” Changbin said, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he leaned in closer. “Mind if I join you?”

I was flushed for an entirely new reason now. “I would be honored.”

Han Jisung was the greatest employer in the world, and I would do everything in my power to serve as his PA in the future. Because I would owe Jisung a million heartfelt expressions of gratitude for asking me to deliver a speech in his absence. Leading me to one of the most gorgeous men I had ever met since the insanely attractive graduate student who served as a TA for my college writing seminar.

But it was hard to think about Jisung, or anything rational for that matter when my legs were practically bent at my chest, lungs devoid of oxygen while Seo Changbin proceeded to fuck me into the mattress. It was a really nice mattress too, compliments of the fancy hotel suite he had reserved for the weekend. I was rapidly coming to the conclusion that Changbin was a very wealthy man who had way too many muscles and a cock that stretched the sensitive walls of my pussy with every subsequent thrust deep inside to the point where it felt like he was spearing me against the bed. 

Not that I minded in the slightest as I ran my hands down the smooth contours of his back, moaning loudly against his shoulder. It was completely unfair for someone to look this good, and I had nearly lost my mind when he had crawled between my legs, fingers deftly undoing the buttons of his shirt to reveal an upper-body straight out of the Men’s Health magazine. Because fate had deemed me fortunate enough to have the opportunity to fuck someone who belonged in my erotic fantasies, dick heavy on my tongue as I blew him under the desk in his office. 

“Changbin,” I groaned, thighs trembling from their current position. 

“You’re cumming, aren’t you, Y/N?” he asked in a raspy voice thick with lust and an irresistible baritone.

“Yes,” I managed around a gasp because Changbin had started to thumb across my clit with practiced movements, intentions perfectly clear as he leaned back to watch the way my back arched towards the ceiling. It had been a long time since someone had made me cum like that and I was still high from the effects of my orgasm while Changbin chased his release with several more slow grinds in exaggerated succession before filling the condom with a grunt.

I was fighting for air, sweat dripping from my bangs as Changbin fell onto the bed next to me. “How long have you been working out?”

Changbin chuckled. “Since high school.”

“It really shows,” I said, twisting my head to the side because I couldn't get enough of his firm biceps.

Changbin reached across the bed, fingers sliding through his cum dripping from the folds of my labia. “I haven’t asked for your number yet, Y/N.”

My entire body lit with excitement at his words because there was a very obvious intention in such an innocent comment. It meant that Changbin wanted to see me again, and I would give absolutely anything to feel his cock sliding in and out at his own luxury. Of course, there would be a lot of things he would come to ask me for in the future and very rarely would I ever tell him no, especially once he slipped a gorgeous diamond ring onto my finger.

I would also come to learn that there are few things my husband cannot resist in this world and the opportunity to fuck me over the kitchen counter was definitely one of them. I rarely woke up early enough to cook breakfast, so on the rare chance that I managed to obey my alarm clock, I would trudge into the kitchen wearing nothing but one of Changbin’s college t-shirts to pull out a carton of eggs from the fridge. It was the least I could do for my husband since he was always the more romantic one in our relationship.

Lured by the smell of coffee and bacon, Changbin found me in the kitchen, twisting my shirt around my waist to push his cock deep inside. Bracing my elbows against the rough marble of the countertop, I did my best to spread my legs wide for him because nothing felt better in the morning than Changbin fucking me from behind, fingers digging bruises into the skin of my hip bones. “Where did this come from?” I gasped because Changbin had figured out how to roll his hips just right to grind my clit against the side of the worn surface. 

“When you walk around the apartment wearing nothing but a shirt,” Changbin said, growling at my ear. “I have to fuck you like the little slut you want to be.”

“Why didn’t you just say so?” I smirked, receiving a firm smack on my ass for my sarcastic question.

“Is that what you want?” Changbin asked, encouraged by my loud moans. 

“What if I showed up to your office dressed like this?”

“You better not,” he grumbled, hands sliding up my shirt to squeeze my breasts. “These are for my eyes only.”

“Greedy,” I moaned, pushing back against him because I was desperately chasing a good orgasm.

“It’s your fault,” Changbin said, picking up the pace once he started detecting the familiar signs of my impending release. But at this point in time, we knew everything about one another’s bodies. And Changbin always managed to hit even deeper, reaching further and further inside with every aggressive meeting of our hips, the lewd sounds mingling with our moans.

“I was feeling particularly horny this morning,” I replied, finally letting go after a strategic thrust that snapped the chord anchoring me to reality. Changbin followed soon after, grinding his cock as he rode out his own orgasm. And despite my oversensitivity, Changbin ignored my whines and shoved his cum back where it belonged. 

“Alright, Mrs. Seo,” he said, chuckling at the sluggish way I pulled myself back onto my feet, shirt falling back into place. “Will you shower with me before I go to work?”

“What about breakfast?”

“I guess I’ll just have you instead,” he said and I grimaced at the cheesy comment.

Jisung was always late in the mornings, but he could get away with it because nobody would criticize the CEO. But his status didn’t mean that Minho, Jisung’s closest advisor, was any less of a nuisance when he complained to anyone who would listen. Which was often me because my desk was located right next to Jisung’s office. “It’s like he doesn’t care,” Minho whined.

I nodded my head slowly, focused on responding to the emails flooding my inbox. “He’s got a lot on his mind.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Minho immediately opposed. “He’s just lazy! I get up every morning at the crack of dawn to come into the office. Why can’t he do the same?”

I glanced up wearily to reply because Minho was probably expecting me to agree with everything he was saying. Graciously, I was relieved of that unnecessary burden when I saw Seungmin walking in our direction. “Minnie!”

I waved him down desperately and he offered me a smile with his cell phone in hand. “Y/N,” he said, handing me the device from over the counter, blatantly ignoring a sour Minho. “My dog had her puppies.”

I immediately cooed at the sight of the tiny little Dalmations, squealing at the sight of their tiny ears. “Seungmin, they’re adorable!”

The younger boy grinned. “You know you’d be the first person on my list since I’m looking for new homes.”

“I don’t know, Seungmin,” I said, reluctantly returning his phone. “Changbin would be really mad if I brought home a dog.”

“Changbin? Mad at you?” Seungmin scoffed. “That’s impossible, Y/N.”

“Changbin gives you whatever you want,” Minho added as if unable to resist jumping into our conversation.

“But not this,” I said. “One time, I thought it might be nice to bring home a fish for the apartment, but when Changbin saw it on the coffee table, he complained for hours about how gross they were. If I even mention a dog, Changbin immediately changes the subject.”

“Well, I guess it never hurts to ask,” Seungmin said with a shrug. “But they really do need new homes. They’ll be old enough in a few weeks to leave their mother.”

“Don’t try to talk me into this,” I said, shooting him a glare. “You know I have a weak resolve.”

“What if you at least come over this afternoon to see them?” Seungmin asked as if blatantly ignoring my last demand.

“Can I come too?” Minho asked. “You know how boring it gets around here.”

“As long as you can at least pretend you might take one,” Seungmin said. “I’m sure your cats would be thrilled.”

“My cats are angels,” Minho said. “They would love a new friend.”

“To torment,” I said. “Won’t they get jealous when you give the puppy all of your attention?”

“My babies know how to share,” Minho replied. “They were taught well.”

“I’d hate to see you as a teacher,” Seungmin said, receiving a glare in response.

The conversation ended there, but the subject remained a heavy point of focus for the remainder of the day. I couldn’t stop thinking about the puppies, finding myself distracted during the most menial of tasks. I even managed to completely ignore Jisung’s greeting because I was so lost in my thoughts. Subsequently, my boss had stood at the front of my desk to snap his fingers in my line of vision. “Y/N?”

“Sorry, sir,” I apologized immediately, blushing because I knew I should be focused on my work.

And I knew that agreeing to visit Seungmin’s puppies would definitely be a horrible idea. The minute they looked at me with adorable button noses and innocent eyes, I would be breaking down and demanding to have one for myself. I knew this would happen, but I still tortured myself and drove with Seungmin back to his apartment, falling in love a dozen times over with each and every single puppy who subsequently chewed on my frayed sandals or plopped themselves right in the middle of my lap. “You’ve ruined me,” I told Seungmin because there was no way I wasn’t bringing home a puppy and that only meant trouble. 

Changbin absolutely hated the idea of pets and had repeatedly denied me every time we walked past a pet shelter or saw a dog during our walks through the park. I could never understand why he was so adamantly opposed, but I figured it had something to do with the fact that he was an obsessive clean freak who liked everything in his life to be controlled. Puppies were a factor one simply couldn’t plan for and they tended to possess destructive tendencies, especially when it came to the things they really believed were toys instead of expensive shoes.

“I’ll call you when you can pick one up,” Seungmin said, following me to the door of his apartment. 

“What am I doing?” I groaned loudly, pointing an accusing finger in Seungmin’s direction. “I’m holding you personally accountable.”

Seungmin offered me a grin. “Tell Changbin to call me.”

Eight weeks later, I chose a strategic day when I knew Changbin would be coming home late from work because of a board meeting. Subsequently, I snuck the small Dalmatian puppy upstairs into our apartment, holding tight to its wriggling body before she immediately made her presence known the moment I put her down on the floor. “Don’t pee there,” I said, ushering her away from the pricey carpet Changbin had bought for the foyer.

My plan was to hide her in the guest bathroom, praying that she would keep from barking too loudly when Changbin came home. “Changbin’s going to kill me,” I thought to myself while opening the door for the excited puppy who ran inside to smell the low hanging duvet with curiosity. 

Changbin rarely raised his voice around me, and I could only think of a few incidents where Changbin and I had truly fought. Most of the time, it was because of his mother who quite simply hated the idea of her son being with someone who didn’t come from money. There was also the issue of me working for Jisung because Changbin would prefer it if I stayed at home, but that definitely wasn’t happening. I stood my ground against him, making my case until he had reluctantly relented, muttering something about how he had enough money to take care of both of us.

However, in neither of those cases had I ever went behind Changbin’s back to do something that I knew he would hate. Of course, I had also never wanted something as bad as the adorable puppy who had stolen my heart the minute she first wagged her tail while I carefully stroked the soft fur of her ears. “Changbin will understand,” I said to the puppy who cocked her head to the side as she watched me. “For now you can stay in here until I think of a better way to introduce you.”

Bang Chan was one of those people who never acted like he had enough money to buy the entire city of New York. He was funny and laid back, laughing with everyone despite whether or not they were a big donor or just an employee. He was one of Changbin’s best friends and he always invited the two of us to his parties at his extravagant condo. As an invitation-only affair, Chan’s parties had become the envy of anyone who was denied the opportunity to attend. More often than not, the parties became a friendly get-together which meant that some of Changbin’s other friends would also be attending. But Hyunjin and Felix always drank way too much beer to be considered appropriate for what was deemed a “suit and tie only” event.

“You look gorgeous,” Changbin said as we waited outside the door. 

“Well, it’s hard not to look good in this dress,” I said because, despite my refusal, Changbin had insisted on buying it for me. Then again, I still wasn’t quite used to watching Changbin pull out his credit card for something that cost nearly half a million dollars. 

“Aren’t you glad I bought it?” Changbin asked, reaching over to finger the delicate lace outlining the dress’ neckline.

“I’ll be even more satisfied when you take it off later,” I said casually, smirking at his sharp inhale as the door suddenly opened to reveal Chan standing on the other side.

“You’re late!” he lightly chastised us, pulling Changbin inside by the hand with more force than necessary. I grinned at the affectionate display, removing my jacket for the server who waited next to the entryway adorned in an elegant suit. “How was the meeting?” Chan asked, making easy conversation as he led us to a nearby waiter holding a tray of flutes filled with champagne. 

“They liked the presentation,” Changbin replied, handing me a glass. “I think some of the new trustees favored the last approach.”

“Of course they do,” Chan nodded. “But you know that you can do whatever you want. It’s impossible to satisfy everyone.”

“I know,” Changbin said, curling an arm around my waist to keep me close to his side. Not that I minded considering the sea of unfamiliar faces who all swarmed to Changbin like he was a celebrity. I guess in their world he was, but it might be funny to tell them about how soft he got after I jerked him off under the sheets. 

You see, Chan was the general manager of Changbin’s largest hotel and he always did his best to ease the burden that Changbin took responsibility for as he oversaw dozens of hotels and thousands of employees. Felix and Hyunjin also helped where they could, not just as friends but as personal assistants to Changbin at the main office. And I happen to know from experience that nobody made a better cup of coffee than Hwang Hyunjin. 

Felix was also dating one of my best friends who I had introduced him to while Changbin and I were still dating, inviting a plus one for the grand opening of his very first hotel expansion. I was surprised when Felix demonstrated just how loving he could be because Changbin often told me horror stories of Felix’s more play boyish tendencies back when they went to college together. However, Felix had been nothing but polite and loving towards my friend since the moment the two first met over a few too many glasses of wine.

“Rina,” I smiled warmly, graciously accepting her invitation to talk outside on Chan’s balcony because the party was suffocating inside. 

“Let me see the pictures!” my friend squealed, practically jerking the cell phone from my grasp. “Cute!” Rina declared, scrolling through my camera roll. “And Changbin doesn’t know? I really do admire you.”

“Well, if you were any louder, he might find out,” I said, checking over my shoulder to ensure that Changbin was still in deep conversation with Felix. “I heard you visited Felix’s parents the other day.”

Rina groaned, handing me back my phone. “I’m pretty sure they hate me. I made the worst impression possible.”

“What did you do?” I asked, rolling my eyes because Rina had a tendency to go overboard.

“Well, for one thing, when his mother asked for help with the food, I may have accidentally started a small kitchen fire.”

“You know, it really doesn’t matter if the fire is small or not.”

“Yeah,” Rina agreed sheepishly.

“Does that mean things are okay with between you and Felix?” I took a sip of my wine, thinking my question innocent enough until I heard Rina let out a shaky breath. “What is it?”

Rina shook her head, leaning out over the balcony. “Felix is acting weird these days. He comes home late now and he doesn’t bother paying me much attention.”

“Felix?” I immediately questioned because I wanted to make sure we were talking about the same boy who bought every single bouquet of roses in the flower shop on Main Street for their anniversary.

Rina suddenly moved in closer, eyes carefully ensuring that no voices were potentially listening. “I think Felix is cheating on me.”

“Rina,” I gasped because the accusation was incredibly serious. “Why would you think that? After he just took you home to his parents?”

“I think he just did that because I kept insisting,” Rina huffed. “I’m serious here, Y/N. There’s something going on with him.”

I wracked my brain for any indication that Felix might have said something to offer justification for Rina’s claim. “But how can you be sure?”

“I can’t,” Rina said. “That’s why I’m going into the office tomorrow night.”

“The office?”

“He’s probably meeting her there.”

“Who?”

“Haven’t you been listening?” Rina hissed. “Felix comes home really late all of a sudden and he doesn’t talk to me about why?”

“That’s just how Felix is.”

“You don’t know him like I do,” Rina said, dismissing my comment. “I’m planning to follow him. See what he’s really doing.”

“Rina, this sounds like a horrible idea.”

“As bad as sneaking a dog into Changbin’s apartment?”

“They can’t even be compared,” I exclaimed. “And I plan to tell Changbin about the dog.”

“Good luck with that,” Rina sneered, fingers tapping the side of her wine glass. “Can you at least come with me tomorrow?”

“To spy on Felix?”

“As a precaution,” Rina said as if that improved the situation.

“Rina, you need to trust Felix. I don’t think he would do anything like this to hurt you.”

“Please, Y/N,” Rina said, reaching out for my hand. “Best friends are supposed to come before boys.”

“Don’t use that against me,” I said. “Besides, how do you expect us to just sneak into the office?”

“Leave that to me,” Rina said, patting my shoulder as if to show her appreciation. “Just tell your man that we’re going out for the night.”

“Fine, but you owe me big time.”

Nevertheless, why did it have to be so cold for our impromptu spy mission?

“Don’t say I never did anything nice for you,” I commented dryly, gazing out at Changbin’s office building from across the street. “We’re definitely going to get caught.”

“Not with that attitude,” Rina said. “Are you ready?”

“I suppose I have no choice,” I grumbled.

“Felix didn’t respond to my last message,” Rina said, already making her way out of the car. “But I saw that he was parked in the garage.”

“Changbin’s still here too,” I said with a shiver because I had been desperately hoping that my husband would leave on time for once. However, the moment he found out that I was going out with Rina, he called up Hyunjin and told him that tonight would make a great time to work on their new project. “At least he won’t accidentally wander into the guest bedroom and find Jane in the bathroom.”

“Wouldn’t that be hilarious though?” Rina giggled. “Changbin is going to throw a fit when he finds that dog.”

“He hasn’t noticed anything so far,” I said, although he came very close to suspicion in bed the other night when he realized that something that sounded a lot like barking was emanating through the walls.

“Y/N, you can’t hide that dog forever, but I need your full attention tonight,” Rina said, snapping her fingers while she pointed at the office near the top where Felix worked. “I have someone on the inside who’s gonna help us.”

I had a bad feeling about this mysterious insider that was only confirmed the moment Jeongin stepped outside to greet us at the front. “That figures,” I muttered because Jeongin practically idolized Rina who always showered him in affection. If Rina and Felix weren’t so obviously in love, Jeongin would be the first person to show up on Rina’s doorstep with a bouquet of flowers in hand.

“Changbin and Hyunjin are in a meeting,” Jeongin explained as he led us to the elevators. “Felix should still be in his office, but he mentioned something about leaving before I came downstairs.”

Jeongin was also Felix’s intern and I highly doubted that he would appreciate the younger’s blatant participation in Rina’s witch hunt. “Perfect,” Rina nodded. “Now tell Y/N about that woman that Felix keeps meeting with.”

Jeongin turned to me with a gasp. “I have no idea who she is, Y/N, but she’s showed up every day this week!”

“See!” Rina exclaimed, waving her hands around like she had suddenly solved the world’s greatest crisis.

“I don’t see anything,” I told her, stoically unmoved when we arrived at our designated floor. “Felix meets with a lot of people. I don’t know if you’re aware, but he kinda works for a pretty big business.”

“We’ll see about that,” Rina declared, heels loudly clicking against the floor as we followed our newly appointed Jeongin tour guide. He led us to one of the desks outside of Felix’s office, searching through some reports until he found what he was looking for, handing it to Rina. “This is the last spreadsheet for all the transactions from Felix’s company credit card.”

“They’re from the same restaurant,” Rina said, reading over the list with narrowed eyes. 

“Business meetings,” I said.

“Or, he’s treating this homewrecker to sushi and bad soju,” Rina said. “What else do you have, Jeongin?”

The younger boy obediently knelt down to open another drawer, but let out a little gasp when he jerked on Rina’s arm and forced the two of them on the floor. “Get down!” he hissed, but I reacted late to his sudden warning, realizing my mistake a moment too late when Changbin was already calling my name from somewhere to my right. 

“Distract him,” Rina whispered urgently, tugging on my jeans.

I rolled my eyes but tried to put on my best smile when Changbin stopped on the other side of Jeongin’s desk. “Y/N,” he said, clearly surprised to see me. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d visit you on my way home,” I lied smoothly, resisting the urge to kick out at Rina in her vulnerable position.

“Where’s Rina?” he asked, arms flexing enticingly in his tight-fit shirt.

“Probably at home,” I said, before trying on my best pout. “Are you not happy to see me?”

Changbin’s expression immediately softened. “Of course I am, Y/N,” he said. “I’m glad you came by. I’m leaving soon so we can ride home together.”

“Perfect,” I said, stepping away from the desk to eagerly lead Changbin further away from where my best friend was hiding. I also didn’t stop him when his strong arms encouraged me into the firm expanse of his chest, cologne heavy against his neck. 

“Do you need anything?” Changbin asked while calling for the elevator. 

I glanced over his shoulder at Jeongin who was trying to tell me something, but I quickly determined that he would be really bad at the whisper challenge. “I’m okay,” I said, clutching tightly to his arm as led me downstairs.

Seungmin and Minho were acceptable lunch buddies and despite their near-constant arguing, I still sat with them in the company’s cafeteria, enjoying whatever organic food they planned to serve that day. “How is the puppy, Y/N?” Seungmin asked over a mouthful of potatoes.

“She’s great,” I said, unable to resist a smile at the thought of my charming new friend.

“Does Changbin know?”

“Not yet,” I said, hesitantly poking at my salad. “But I have a plan to fix that tonight.”

“Is that so?” Minho butted in, studying me from across the table. “Maybe he could buy you a new apartment across the city.”

“That’s not necessary,” I said. “Because I plan to thoroughly convince him.”

“Sounds like an innuendo to me,” Minho said, reaching out for my hand. “Congratulations, Y/N, you’ve finally figured out the real purpose of marriage.”

“Manipulation,” Seungmin concluded.

“Stop it you two,” I groaned. “I’m not manipulating Changbin.”

“Seduction sounds like manipulation to me.”

“I’m merely encouraging him to change his mind,” I said, ignoring their unnecessary commentary.

“By dicking him down, I get it,” Minho nodded. “I’ve done the same things to my girlfriends.”

“No wonder you’re still single,” Seungmin said earning him a flick across his forehead. “Ow!”

“I’m sure Changbin has affection for animals somewhere deep down inside,” I continued. “He’ll be so much happier with a dog around the apartment.”

“Or he’ll be really furious,” Seungmin said. “I guess if you really need to return the puppy, I can always take her back.”  

“No,” I whined at the thought. “We’ve already bonded.”

“Well, if it comes down between your bond with man’s best friend and the man, which would you rather choose?” Minho asked.

I really hated them both sometimes.

There were three things that Seo Changbin truly loved: 1. His family 2. His wife and 3. His wife in lingerie. Which is exactly what he was going to get the moment he stepped inside that door. Because tonight, I needed to do everything in my power to appeal to him.

I nodded in satisfaction as I studied my appearance in the floor-length mirror in our bedroom, adjusting the thin fabric of my stockings as they ran up the expanse of my thighs, attached to the garter belt Changbin had bought me for my birthday. Once I was satisfied, I tugged on a silky black robe, loosely tying the belt around the middle. “Perfect,” I declared.

Next, I made sure that Changbin’s favorite food was ready, table set with our finest cutlery. I also pulled out his favorite wine, filling two glasses while keeping the bottle cool in a bucket of ice. Finally, I lit a few candles around the table and the perimeter of the dining room, trying for a romantic mood since Changbin was secretly a huge fun of those extravagances.

“Do it for Jane, Y/N,” I whispered to myself, flinching when I heard the sound of Changbin’s key in the lock.

My husband called out my name and I directed him to the dining room, pleased when his eyes immediately froze on my attire. “Y/N?”

“Binnie,” I grinned, taking a seat on the edge of the table, kicking out one of the chairs as an invitation. “I made your favorite.”

Changbin tugged at the tie messily wrapped around his collar, taking my hint and planting himself down next to me. One hand caressed my exposed leg through the fabric of my robe while he looked up at me with dark eyes. “What’s all this for?”

“For you, of course,” I smiled, reaching back to grab a strawberry, holding it up to his lips.

Changbin took the offered fruit, eyes never leaving mine. “Is there something you want, Y/N?”

Changbin knew me too well, but I kept up the act, sliding down the table and into his lap. My thighs were planted on either side of his body and Changbin delicately traced the lace lining of my stockings to the place where they disappeared beneath fabric. “Does there have to be a reason?” I asked, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“No,” Changbin agreed, eager hands working the belt of my robe. “But there usually is.” He was silent for a moment as he drew the sleeves down my shoulders, leaving me completely on display for his eyes to leisurely explore. “You can tell me, honey.”

“I can?” I asked breathlessly, planting kisses across his forehead while his fingers dug into my ass to pull me even closer.

“Whatever you want,” Changbin agreed, hands smoothing across the skin of my stomach while he started to slowly grind his hips against mine. He was impossibly hard beneath the tight material of his fitted slacks, cock moving perfectly in time with the little moans he forced out of me. I was practically drooling at the thought of Changbin’s cock, stretching my lips across the head and tasting his precum. 

“Binnie,” I gasped, jittery fingers working apart the buttons on his shirt to reveal the smooth skin of his chest, groping my hands against his defined pectoral muscles.

“Yeah, baby?” he said, reaching up to taste my lips. “You want me to fuck you on the table?”

“Please,” I whimpered, holding onto his biceps to feel his impossible strength while he practically manhandled me into place, looming over my trembling body while his eyes made a luxury trip of exploring my exposed skin. I wrapped my legs around his waist to encourage him closer, wanting nothing more than to feel his cock...

“Did you hear that?”

I froze under him, detecting resistance from Changbin whose eyes were now devoid of lust as he lifted his head in concentration. It was then that I heard it, an alarmingly loud whine from Jane in the guest bedroom which was suddenly way too close to ignore. 

Changbin immediately stopped everything he was doing. “Please tell me you can hear it too?”

“Hear what?” I asked nervously, attempting to draw his attention back to me and it might have worked had Jane not decided to let out a series of playful barks and I suddenly regretted leaving her alone with a new toy.

“It’s something,” Changbin said, tone much darker as he ordered me to unwrap my legs from their vicelike grip around his waist. I obeyed hesitantly because my plan was falling apart at the seams and I had a bad feeling about what might happen next. 

Slowly, I followed him as he marched to the guest bedroom, opening the door like a man on a mission. And I doubt I’ll ever forget the way Jane immediately darted from the bathroom, sniffing Changbin’s shoes before waddling in my direction, plastic bone hanging from her mouth. “Y/N,” Changbin said, watching me as I picked up Jane off the floor. “Do you mind explaining to me why there’s a dog in the guest room?”

“It’s nothing bad,” I said, holding even tighter to Jane. “I may have adopted her-”

“What!” Changbin cut me off with a sharp interrogative. “How long has it been living here?”

“She,” I corrected him, “has been living here for a week or so...”

“A week!” Changbin exclaimed. “You’ve kept a dog hidden in here for a week?”

“Well, I didn’t plan on hiding her forever,” I said, fingers moving nervously through Jane’s soft fur.

“Get rid of it,” Changbin barked, looking every bit the intimidating CEO whose annual salary easily eclipsed my entire family net worth.

“Changbin,” I said softly. “Please don’t say that.”

“This is my house,” Changbin growled. “And I will not have it trashed by that thing.”

“I thought it was my house too?” I asked with narrowed eyes.

Changbin seemed taken aback, but he was not deterred for long. “Of course it is, but you know I don’t want any animals living here.”

“But she’s really clean,” I said. “And I’m training her every day!”

“I don’t care,” Changbin snapped. “I want to see it gone tomorrow morning, do you understand?”

“Changbin,” I whimpered, eyes clouding with the promise of tears. “You said you’d give me whatever I want.”

I know it sounds selfish, but I was growing increasingly desperate as it became more and more apparent that Changbin had already made up his mind. “I meant something like clothes, Y/N,” Changbin said. “Not a living pest.”

“She’s not a pest,” I insisted. “Jane is really sweet.”

“Oh great, you’ve named it,” Changbin grumbled, reaching for his cellphone.

“Who are you calling?”

“Animal control,” Changbin muttered and I immediately reacted.

“Don’t call them!” I exclaimed. “At least give her a better home than that horrible place.”

“Then find her one,” Changbin said. “You get one week before I handle it myself.”

“What an asshole,” I snarled. 

“I agree,” Rina nodded, offering Jane a few treats when my puppy clambered onto the sofa next to us. In spite of Changbin’s dismissal, I found a refugee for both myself and Jane in Rina’s shared apartment with Felix. “I don’t see what the big deal is anyway. Changbin can’t possibly be that averse to something so cute.”

“It’s not like I brought home a child,” I said, frowning at my phone screen when Changbin sent yet another text message. “I hope he knows I’m not coming home tonight. If he kicks Jane out, then I’m leaving too.”

“You can keep me company instead,” Rina said. “Felix never comes around anymore so it’s just like college again.”

“Except we have more than just ramen in the kitchen.”

“Not to mention this sweetie,” Rina added, lifting Jane into her arms. “Who needs a man around anyway?”

“At least your man is okay with Jane living here for a few days,” I said. “I guess I’ll have to ask Seungmin to take her back.”

“You shouldn’t have to, Y/N,” Rina sighed. “It’s unfortunate that Changbin hates the puppies. I’d even keep Jane for myself but I think she’d be much happier with someone who isn’t prone to forgetting to even feed herself.”

I snorted. “That would be better than the pound. Can you believe he tried to call animal control?”

“Seo Changbin?” Rina snickered. “Nothing he does surprises me. This is the same person who rented out an entire restaurant just to propose to you.”

“Don’t bring up our happy memories,” I complained. “I’m supposed to be mad at him right now.”

“Then be mad at him,” Rina shrugged. “Honestly speaking, if he can’t see how important this is to you, then he doesn’t deserve to call you his wife in the first place.”

“This isn’t a deal-breaker,” I said. “I just wish he would understand how I feel.”

“Analytical types like Changbin are incapable of empathy,” Rina said. “It’s a proven fact, Y/N. He’ll still think he’s right when the two of you are retired somewhere in a tropical paradise.”

“Ugh, he’s so stubborn.”

“Takes after his mother in that regard,” Rina said. “Remember at your wedding? She bawled her eyes out after giving that horrible speech where she basically implied that you were stealing away her only son.”

“She’s the mistress of Evil,” I nodded. “They share that characteristic. Both of them can be downright mean when they want to be.”

“I guess that’s why Changbin has been so successful,” Rina said. “Still doesn’t take away from the fact that he sometimes seems to forget you're his wife and not a stockholder.”

I let out a deep breath. “What about you and Felix?”

“Oh, he’s still distant and I’m half-way convinced that I’m being replaced by a supermodel with bigger tits.”

“I don’t think Felix would be that shallow.”

“I know,” Rina said, palming her breasts through her shirt. “They’re pretty big, right?”

“He doesn’t care about that,” I said. “And if I wasn’t so pissed at Changbin, I might ask him about this mystery girl.”

“We’ll have to go through the middle man,” she said, offering me a knowing look.

“Hwang Hyunjin,” we both agreed in perfect synchronization.

Luring Hyunjin out of the office building was as easy as promising a free lunch at his favorite restaurant. And when Hyunjin discovered that he would be meeting with both myself and Rina, he immediately jumped at the opportunity. Because Hwang Hyunjin was one of the most overdramatic people I knew and he never missed an opportunity to ensconce himself in everyone else's problems. “You know, Y/N,” he said through a sip of wine. “It would be nice if you at least pretended to like Changbin. He’s always intolerable at the office whenever the two of you fight.”

“I can’t even pretend to like him right now,” I said. “And, if you feel so inclined, you can pass on the message to him that I won’t be coming home tonight.”

“Oh, I can’t do that,” Hyunjin said, but it was impossible to miss the spark of mischief in his eyes. “Should I?”

“You can kick Changbin’s ass for all we care,” Rina said, already working through her third glass of chardonnay. 

“But, of course, that’s not the reason we invited you here,” I said, earning me a curious look in return.

“It’s about Felix,” Rina said through gritted teeth. “And don’t bother trying to cover for him, Hyunjin, because you’re a terrible liar.”

“What did he do wrong this time?” Hyunjin scoffed, seemingly indifferent as he took a bite of his organic salad.

“That blonde he keeps meeting in the office,” Rina said, always ready to get straight to the matter at hand. “Who the hell is she?”

Hyunjin visibly blanched, choking on his current mouthful while desperately trying to wash down the rest of his glass. “What?”

“The. Blonde,” Rina repeated. “I know everything, so don’t try to hide the truth from me.”

“If you knew everything, you wouldn’t be asking me,” Hyunjin pointed out.

“Just tell me who she is!” Rina exclaimed, loud enough to attract the attention of several tables.

Hyunjin wilted under their accusatory stares. “I can’t tell you.”

“Hwang Hyunjin,” Rina started, hands clasping the edge of the table. “Don’t you dare try to cover up your friend’s extracurricular affairs.”

“Felix isn’t cheating on you,” Hyunjin snapped. “I can’t believe you would even think that.”

“It’s not hard to,” Rina defended herself, “when everyone is walking on eggshells around me. I feel like I’m in the middle of something but I’m not even allowed to know what it is!”

“Rina,” Hyunjin tried again, tone visibly calmer. “Trust me on this. Felix isn’t cheating on you and everything will start to make a lot of sense.”

I studied my friend, but she seemed completely unmoved, expression fierce as she glared down at her untouched plate of food.

My mother’s house was located almost an hour away from where Changbin and I lived in the city. My visits were less frequent because of the combination of distance and my inability to leave work early because Jisung couldn’t handle the office without me. But, since I needed someone to take care of Jane, I knew my mother might be the best solution. She also didn’t hesitate when I asked to spend the night away from Changbin. However, my mother was prone to exceeding selfishness when it came to spending time with me.

In any case, it was the last time I would be able to get away with my nightly escapades because Rina had brought me an invitation that morning to join herself, Felix, and several of their friends for a getaway at the beach. I reluctantly agreed to come since Felix insisted that it was important and Rina demanded she has her “partner in crime” next to her side all weekend. But I would be expected to share a room with Changbin which meant we would either argue even more or ignore each other awkwardly at every available opportunity.

The last time Changbin and I went anywhere with Felix and Rina was back when Changbin first started the company. We ended up stuck inside our hotel because it rained endlessly for the entire week we visited the Florida Keys. On the plus side, I did manage to watch a lot of good movies at the theatre, including a horror classic that was made even better when Changbin decided to stick his hand up my skirt. I’m pretty sure the couple next to us knew exactly what we were doing, and it was worth it to watch their expressions when I accidentally moaned during an intense scene involving a ghost and a clueless teenager.

Nevertheless, I usually loved going on trips with Changbin because he always planned the best surprises. Too bad he had already ruined this one because of his, for lack of a better term, “assholish” tendencies. And poor Jane shouldn’t have to suffer along with everyone else just because my husband hated cute animals.

“Y/N,” my mother grinned brightly, encouraging me inside while I carried Jane in my arms. “Isn’t she adorable!”

“At least some people think so,” I grumbled, putting Jane on the floor so that she could make herself comfortable.

“I can’t believe Changbin told you to get rid of her.”

“Really?” I huffed, leaning against the wall. “You were the one that warned me he would be, and I quote, a pompous ass.”

“Well,” my mother grimaced, “I thought he might prove me wrong.”

“And I’ll be stuck in the same room with him all weekend,” I groaned. “Felix and Rina owe me big time.”

“Or,” my mother allowed, “maybe you should thank them. The trip is a good opportunity to put this argument to rest.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“Honestly, Y/N, I know he was harsh, but you’re the one who went and got a dog behind his back. Plus, Jane can just stay here with me. It gives you a good excuse to visit more often.”

“You’re only saying that because you got a cute new puppy,” I muttered.

“Sweetheart,” my mother cooed, carefully guiding me to the counter. “I’ll always have your back, and I’d like to believe that I’m still the only person who can take care of you, but I think Changbin stole that title a long time ago.”

“He’s just infuriating sometimes,” I said.

My mother laughed. “All men are, Y/N, and you know you’ll have fights with Changbin. That’s what married couples do. The important thing is that the two of you can always come back together and forgive, even if the matter at hand is this cute.”

I grinned when my mother reached down to collect Jane into her arms. “I still don’t get how someone can hate a puppy.”

“Perhaps not hate,” my mother said. “But you should respect his opinion, even if you don’t agree with it.”

“He never asks me for anything,” I sighed. “I guess I made this into a bigger deal than it needed to be.”

“Trust me, sweetheart, you definitely get that from me,” my mother said. “Now, about you spending the night...”

“Yeah, I get it,” I grumbled. “I should go back home.”

“It’s not exactly mature of you to run away from him,” my mother pointed out as if I didn’t already feel guilty enough. “And it only makes it that much harder to fix things when you keep avoiding them.”

“Fine, I’ll go home,” I said, pulling out my phone to send Changbin a brief message. “You’re all wise and old now.”

My mother frowned. “Sweetheart, I don’t consider myself old.”

“Mom, the last time we went shopping, you had me come pick you up at the mall entrance because you didn’t feel like walking to the car.”

“Well, everyone has those days,” my mother said. “In any case, I should find somewhere for Jane to stay. Her mom is certainly welcome to come over any time.”

“Pretty sure her mom is Seungmin, but I appreciate the thought,” I said, lifting Jane from the ground to bring her closer. “You won’t forget about me, right?”

Jane considered with wide eyes before cautiously offering me a small lick on the cheek. “Yeah, I think we can make this work.”

Changbin’s car was already parked in his usual spot when I pulled into the complex. I was hoping he would stay at the office longer, but he probably left the moment he received my message. Straightening the hem of my skirt, I carefully entered the apartment, inwardly groaning when I could hear the sounds of the TV from the living room. I was still quiet when I shuffled across the carpet, but apparently, Changbin had been waiting on me. “Babe,” he murmured quietly as I passed by the couch.

Whispering a curse, I turned around to look at Changbin whose eyes were struggling to open as if he had been asleep when I came home. “Sorry,” I said in return, forcing my eyes to look away from his exposed chest, firm edges made softer under the light from the LED screen.

I made my way to our bedroom, deciding to pack as efficiently as possible because I was starting to get a headache which meant I wanted nothing more than to pass out on the bed. “Y/N,” Changbin spoke up softly, lingering by the door as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “How was your mother?”

“Fine,” I answered shortly, moving around our bedroom as quickly as possible because I was determined to avoid any sort of conversation with Changbin, cramming my t-shirts into the stupid designer suitcase he had bought for me. 

“Are you tired?” he asked, looking irresistible with his messy hair and puffy cheeks.

“Yeah,” I said, carefully zipping my suitcase closed. I brought it next to his at the side of our dresser.

Changbin took a few more steps into the room, pausing next to the bed while I changed clothes quickly. “Is it alright if I sleep with you tonight?”

I really wanted to tell him, no, but it was rather difficult to refuse him when he was being sweet. At least he obviously understood that he was wrong for screaming at me like I was one of his assistants instead of his wife. “You can,” I told him, already pulling back the sheets of the comforter.

And I didn’t even resist when he climbed in behind me, wrapping an arm around my waist because he liked to keep me close in bed. “Y/N,” he whispered in my ear, fingers curling with mine. “You can keep the dog when we get back.”

“Binnie,” I murmured, attempting to protest because I wasn’t expecting Changbin to give in so easily. He really does give me whatever I want.

“It’s alright,” Changbin said, tenderly squeezing my waist, breath warm against the back of my neck. “We can talk about it later.” The combination of his familiar presence and the lovely feel of his fingers pulling through my hair was enough to lure me into a much-needed sleep.

Early morning flights were a pain in the ass and I was no exception to the demonizing effects of insomnia, especially when I felt guilty because Changbin had agreed to let me keep Jane only after I avoided him for several days. We didn’t talk about it on the drive to the airport. In fact, we didn’t talk much at all as Changbin turned up the volume on the radio while he drove with tired eyes. It had probably been difficult for him to take the whole weekend off for Felix’s getaway trip, and I hadn’t bothered to ask him how he was feeling.

Felix and Rina were waiting for us at the security line when we arrived with a few minutes to spare. Apparently, Hyunjin and Chan were already at the loading gate since they had arrived much earlier than everyone else. “It’s been a while since we’ve gone out of town together,” Rina remarked as she pulled me away from Changbin, leaving him to talk quietly with Felix.

“Excluding the first beach disaster?”

“Definitely,” Rina agreed, tossing an arm around my shoulders. “I convinced Felix to switch tickets with you. Now, my best friend can sit next to me instead.”

I nodded in reply since I had actually been looking forward to an opportunity to talk with Changbin on the airplane. It was probably best for both of us if we talked about what happened. Because the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was a rather stupid argument that definitely could have been avoided if I had been less inconsiderate of Changbin’s feelings. They might seem irrational, but they mattered and that’s all I could think about for the entirety of our flight to the island.

And if I thought I’d get a chance to talk to him when we landed, I was proven wrong. Because Felix enforced a tight schedule, barely allowing any of us to get settled in at the resort before he was already ordering us to change into something comfortable for the beach. The hotel itself was situated right on the shoreline, busy with fellow travelers looking to enjoy what was already becoming a gorgeous afternoon. And since Changbin happened to own the place, we were treated to the best care with a constant presence of wait staff who brought us drinks and food. “You get five stars, Changbin,” Rina remarked as she sat between Felix’s legs on his beach chair. “I see why everybody makes a big deal out of your expensive hotels now.”

“You’re welcome,” Changbin grumbled from where the two of us were situated on a comfortable beach towel. Changbin had long since dismissed his t-shirt, tentatively requesting that I apply a generous amount of sunscreen to his skin. And no matter how I felt towards Changbin, I would never turn down the opportunity to run my hands against the gorgeous muscles that supplied his well-built torso.

In the meantime, Hyunjin and Chan were arguing about whether or not the hotel in New York needed the same kind of luxury swimming pool that the six of us had spotted on our way outside. “If I knew they would be this loud, I would have left them behind,” Felix said, sunglasses resting on the brim of his nose.

“It’s Hyunjin, what did you expect?” Rina said, watching the two older boys bicker. 

I nodded vacantly, growing tried from the influence of the sun. “What’s this surprise all about, Felix?” Rina asked her boyfriend, eyebrow raised in question.

Changbin jumped from his spot in front of me and I was startled when I realized I had massaged over his nipples. “You’ll see,” Felix said, a proud smirk making him look just as mischievous as he had been when we first met.

I couldn’t see Rina’s reaction since her glasses obscured most of her face. “Are you really going to keep me waiting?”

“Just until tonight, love,” Felix said, reassuring her with a gentle kiss that had my heart aching in my chest for Changbin despite him being in such close proximity. 

I spent most of the early evening with Rina, wasting time shopping as we waited for our dinner reservations. “What do you think?” Rina asked, holding up a sundress that barely fell below her thighs.

“No,” I said, returning my attention to the magazine in front of me.

“Changbin has made you way too conservative,” she griped before disappearing back into the changing room. “But you seemed more relaxed around him today.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I think I owe him an apology.”

“What for?” Rina asked. “He’s the one who almost sent for animal control to handle an innocent puppy.”

“I never should have tried to hide Jane in the first place,” I said. “Changbin doesn’t ask for much and I should have respected his preference.”

“Wow, since when have you grown up?” Rina asked, re-emerging from the dressing room. “That’s awfully mature of you.”

“I love him,” I nodded. “And that means more to me than anything else in the world.”

“Including me?” Rina feigned hurt while dramatically falling against a nearby display of sneakers.

I rolled my eyes, checking the time on my phone. “We should probably meet the others.”

“Alright,” Rina grumbled. “But I’m afraid of what Felix might say at dinner.”

“What makes you think it’s a bad thing?” I asked.

“Where have you been, Y/N? Don’t you remember all the drama? Felix avoiding me? Coming home late? Does any of this ring a bell?”

“I thought you moved on from that.”

“Never,” Rina insisted while curling her arm through mine. “I’m still on high alert.”

“You know how Felix can get sometimes,” I said.

“Of course I do! But he’s never acted like this before,” Rina insisted. 

“Well, maybe you’ll get your answers tonight,” I said, leading her into the crowded seafood restaurant on the lower level of the hotel. 

It must have bee massively popular because guests were patiently waiting in large parties scrambled throughout the main lobby. Rina and I fought our way to the hostess, allowing her to check our reservation before graciously leading us further away from the rampant group of hungry customers who were all attempting to talk over one another. Instead, the hostess brought us to a private room, clearly the work of Seo Changbin, where the others were already seated.

“Finally!” Hyunjin exclaimed. “Felix wouldn’t let us order until you got here.”

Felix ignored his friend, pulling out a chair for Rina. I could tell he was visibly nervous which was certainly concerning because Felix was one of the most confident people I knew. He was the friend in Changbin’s board meetings who was never shy about speaking up. The one person you could always rely on to sweet talk an additional 5% off our coffee bill in the main lobby because he only had to smile at the poor cashier working the register.

I glanced over at Changbin who was busy scanning the menu in front of him. Changbin didn’t seem worried at all which was reassuring, although it definitely didn’t mean that Felix necessarily told Changbin what he was planning for tonight. And the longer I studied the younger boy fidgeting in his seat, the more curious I became. 

“You know, Chan,” Hyunjin said. “I’m surprised you didn’t bring that girl with you. Aren’t the two of you moving in together?”

I perked up at this new information. “Chan has a serious girlfriend?”

Chan and I had known each other for several years, but I was starting to conclude that the older man was planning to stay single for the rest of his life. Not that Chan didn’t make an elegant bachelor because the combination of his appealing good-looks, charming accent, and accumulating wealth was enough to cement his status. But then again, it might be nice to see Chan in a committed relationship because he would make the best father.

“It’s not that serious,” Chan said bashfully, ears tipped in red as he glanced around for the waitress.

“Whatever,” Hyunjin huffed, glancing between Felix and Rina with a barely concealed smirk. “You guys look great together.”

Felix glared at his friend. “You’re determined to spoil everything, aren’t you?”

“What does that mean?” Rina inquired, studying Felix curiously.

“Nothing,” Hyunjin said, immediately turning to me and Changbin. “Are the two of you still fighting?”

“Hyunjin,” I growled his name, determined once and for all that Hyunjin was intentionally trying to stir up more drama for his viewing pleasure.

“We’re alright,” Changbin said in a surprisingly gentle voice, one arm coming to rest across the back of my chair. “Here,” Changbin said, pulling my plate closer so that he could cut a few pieces of steak for me. “Your favorite.”

I blushed at his kindness, stuffing my mouth full of tender meant to avoid having to say anything in return. Thankfully, Felix was more than ready to interrupt our moment, abruptly standing up from his chair with a glass of wine in hand. “Everyone,” he said, immediately silencing our small party. “I have something to announce.”

I glanced over at Rina from the corner of my eyes, watching as she drew her bottom lip between her teeth. A nervous habit she picked up from countless nights of writing 10,000-word essays for our history seminar. “Rina,” Felix said, addressing my friend. “We’ve been together for a while.”

Rina nodded, seemingly frozen in place. At least until Felix dropped down onto one knee next to her, pulling out a beautiful gold-encrusted wedding band with diamonds circling the outside. “Marry me.” 

My expression of shock likely mirrored Rina’s while Hyunjin clapped like a maniac from across the table. “Thank god! The secret is finally out!”

“Felix,” Rina finally managed, eyes growing cloudy with the promise of tears while she held out a shaky hand. Felix gently accepted her outstretched limb, sliding the ring into place on her finger. 

“I’ll consider that a yes.”

I immediately turned to Changbin who was watching the two of them with fond eyes. It was quite obvious that he also knew about the proposal and I admired my husband’s ability to help his friend make this weekend so special. Changbin met my gaze with a beautiful smile, reaching underneath the table to take my hand without hesitation.

It was late when the six of us finally left the restaurant, listening to Rina gush over her new ring while clinging to Felix’s side persistently. Changbin and I lingered at the back, shoulders brushing with every step while keeping our pinky fingers interlocked between us. “That woman!” Rina suddenly exclaimed, pointing at a familiar blonde standing behind the concierge counter.

“She’s the hotel’s general manager,” Felix explained, sending a wave in her direction.

“Oh,” Rina said dumbly and my friend was very rarely caught off-guard. I definitely couldn’t wait to offer her a well-deserved “I told you so” when we met for breakfast in the morning. However, for the time being, I wanted nothing more than to go back to the room with Changbin.

“I can’t thank her enough,” Felix continued. “She’s been very helpful when it came to planning all of this.”

“Really?”

“She deserves a raise, Changbin,” Felix said, nudging his friend as the six of us broke off into smaller groups as we returned to our assigned rooms.

“Congratulations, Rina,” I said to my friend, watching her join Felix in the suite across from ours.

I waited until we were truly alone before I closed the door quietly, turning around to find Changbin fiddling with the lock on his Rolex. “Let me,” I said quietly, gliding across the floor to handle the delicate switch with nimble fingers.

“Thanks,” Changbin said, dropping the watch on top of the nightstand.

“Changbin,” I spoke up hesitantly. “I’m sorry for ignoring you.”

My husband shrugged, broad shoulders tense against the fit of his shirt. “It’s alright, Y/N.”

“No, it’s not,” I said, reaching out for his wrist to turn him around. “You didn’t deserve that, especially over something that was my fault to begin with.”

Changbin sighed, tugging me closer against him. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

I pressed my forehead against the center of his chest. “You never ask me for much. In fact, you’re always the one who gives the most in our relationship. I should have respected your opinion. Instead, I went behind your back and I’ve felt guilty about it for the entire trip.”

“There’s no need for that,” Changbin insisted, fingers curling through my hair. “We’ve both made mistakes, but I can never stay mad at you for long.”

“I’ll let my mom have the dog,” I said, pressing my fingers against his plush lips before he could interrupt. “I’m serious. She’s much happier with Jane. Maybe, later on, we could try something smaller? Like a hamster!”

Changbin grimaced at the thought and I laughed at his expression. “Unless you just want me all to yourself.”

“That’s not it,” Changbin sighed. “I just don’t want that responsibility. Plus, I really don’t like the idea of a dog or cat in the apartment.”

“Well, I can always visit my mom when I want to see Jane,” I said, reaching up to fix the messy strands of his hair. “See? A compromise.”

Changbin smirked, leaning down for a kiss. “You make a better negotiator than I do. Maybe you should be in charge of the board.”

“I’ll let you handle things,” I said, running my hands along his stomach to the waistband of his jeans.

“I meant it when I said I would do anything to make you happy,” Changbin whispered against my hair. “Even if that means I have to fill the apartment with dogs.”

I grinned. “I like what we have now, Changbin.”

“That’s so cheesy,” he accused me, laughing when I whined in response. “I love you, Y/N,” he said.

“I love you too,” I said. “You’re basically just a giant puppy anyway.”

Changbin grunted as his hands gripped the back of my thighs. “Please don’t say that when I’ve already started making plans to fuck you until you’re screaming my name.”

I shivered at his seductive promise. “Oh yeah? I guess you’ll just have to prove it to me.”

[pickalilywrites]

hi everyone!!! here’s the eretra au that a few of you might remember from my wip posts a few months (?) ago! i’m really excited about it, so i hope you guys like it. it’s very loosely based off a kdrama called big, although there aren’t very many similarities. i hope you guys enjoy it :) 

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My First Love Come Back to Me

Eretra. Big AU. 

I’ll Love You in the Rain or Shine Series: Chapter 1

12788 words. 

Read on Ao3!

Eren stands in the deli section of the grocery store staring down at the premade sandwiches that have, judging by the wilting lettuce and stiff-looking squares of cheese stuffed between dry bread buns, been sitting there all day after being passed over by other customers for more enticing premade meals like the colorful, little sushis in their plastic containers or the burritos so stuffed with filling that beans are practically spilling out of the tortilla wraps meant to contain them. He looks at one particularly sad-looking sandwich. Turkey chunks and droopy lettuce leaves are shoved inside a stale bread loaf. Tomato juice from the poor fruit that was cut to make this depressing sub bleeds out from the bun, dripping onto the plastic wrap that can hardly hold the thing together. A strange assortment of veggies also poke out from the bread - bright yellow bell peppers, chunky strips of carrots, and slices of onions - but they look as though someone has carelessly dropped them into the sandwich because they’re not even evenly dispersed through the sub. It is, Eren thinks, the most wretched sandwich he’d ever laid eyes on. 

It’s a little sad, the fact that Eren is spending so much time picking out something to bring to a family dinner that he would claim, if anyone bothered to ask, to not give a single shit about. And, really, he doesn’t, but it makes him feel slightly better about going to those miserable gatherings if he’s able to bring something he knows his stepmom will hate. Except she’s not really his stepmom. To be more precise, the woman is his father’s first and only wife - the bastard having never married Eren’s mother - and his half-brother’s mother. In all honesty, Eren can completely understand why the woman hates him. He is, after all, a constant reminder of his father’s infidelity. It’s not like Eren likes her either and, with all of the snide comments about his upbringing and disappointing career path (although Eren has no idea why that is any of her business), she hasn’t given Eren any reason to. 

Eren looks down at the sandwich again, leaning towards not getting it. As much as he would love to purchase it and slap it down on the dinner table with a cheerful smile, there are only so many times he can buy disgusting sandwiches for his family dinners. He really outdid himself last time with a self-made sandwich with all sorts of odd ingredients (blue cheese, coriander, tuna, onions, cherry tomatoes, the works) that had no business being slapped between the same two buns. He even remembered not to toast the bread buns. Apparently, the only thing his father’s wife hates more than sandwiches are untoasted sandwiches, but not everyone can afford a $300 panini press like she can. Apparently, any panini press with a smaller price tag can’t be called a real panini press. Eren only half-regretted his decision to bring the disgusting thing to his father’s house an hour later when he sprinted out of the house and biked half a block away to empty the contents of his stomach on the edge of a poor neighbor's sidewalk. No, a normal deli sandwich would be a step down from his previous contribution to family dinner, Eren decides. 

He walks up and down the aisle of the grocery store, taking his time even though he’s already a half-hour late for dinner. (He’s doing them a favor. Nobody in their right mind should be having dinner at five when the sun is still high in the sky.) His green eyes glaze over tubs of soup and plastic bins filled with salad. For a moment, he wonders if he should walk through the shelves of chips on the other side or maybe into the frozen food section so he can haul a tub of melting ice cream to his father’s house, but he wonders if that’s too petty. It’s probably best not to, Eren thinks with a grimace. He doesn’t want to ruin junk food for himself forever. 

In the end, Eren purchases a little tub of potato salad, hoping that it’ll be enough to piss off his Disney-esque sort-of stepmother. It’s not perfect, but he supposes it will do. It’s probably not as grotesque as the stuff he’s brought before, but he likes how simple it is. That woman’s definitely going to be miffed that Eren bought potato salad as if he cared so little that he couldn’t be bothered to spend a few minutes in the kitchen to make the same dish. He’s really going to enjoy seeing the vein on her forehead pulse when she sees him standing at the door with the potato salad. 

Eren thanks the cashier for ringing up his purchase, sliding two dollars into the charity box next to the register, and walks away with his tub of potato salad, whistling as he practically skips out of the grocery store. He hadn’t taken as long as he would have liked; there are still fifteen minutes before six and he had hoped he would burn enough time to arrive at six-thirty, but maybe he can take a roundabout way to his dad’s house, Eren thinks as he drops the tub carelessly into the front basket of his bicycle. He unlocks his bike with a click and pulls it off the bike rack before mounting it and pedaling away. 

Taking the direct route would be too quick. Eren quickly pedals across the road as soon as the road is clear and finds his way to the creek that cuts across the suburbs. It’s the same creek Eren used to play beside when he was a child. He fell in there once trying to catch a frog and his mom scolded him for being so reckless. It’s also the same creek that he frequented during the spring of his sophomore year of highschool when he was assigned to do a bug project, which Eren hated especially when the same project was no longer mandatory after his school cut the science department’s funding the year after. Eren doesn’t think he’s visited the creek ever since he graduated from high school. He blames it on college and summer internships taking up all his time and never really allowing him to return to his youth, but the truth is that Eren wouldn’t have sought out his childhood even if he had the time. 

It’s not that Eren had a terrible childhood. In fact, Eren would say that he had a fairly happy childhood. True, he grew up in a (mostly) single-parent household, but his mother was always patient and attentive to him even though he was a pain the ass about 75 percent of the time. Nothing incredibly significant happened. He didn’t win any awards and he never made the honor roll, but his mother was fine with it as long as he did his best. It was strange, but he got a lot more shit about his grades from his sort-of stepmom than he did from his own mother. He’s not particularly sure what his father thought about it. Eren’s father never said much of anything to defend him, but his father hardly said anything to him at all. It was kind of like not having a father at all, so it wasn’t really that surprising when Eren found a way to avoid his old neighborhood completely after his mother passed away after his senior year of high school. 

Eren hadn’t planned on returning so soon. Actually, he hadn’t planned on returning at all after he had left for college. He only came back the summer after freshman year, but he bummed it at his best friend Armin’s house and only ventured as far as Armin’s front lawn. The following summers he crashed at his ex-boyfriend’s house - an art student-turned-tattoo artist who somehow ended up setting up a shop in the city Eren and Armin grew up in - or Armin’s dorm when they were both working at their internships. Somehow, they ended up landing jobs back in their hometown because evidently the big city did not want them and they were too young and broke to go up against the universe. Maybe another day. 

It’s not that bad. Despite renting an apartment near his neighborhood, Eren hasn’t run into any childhood friends that might still remember all the embarrassing things he did as a teenager. He’s bumped into a few parents at the grocery store that would smile up at him and talk about how nicely he’s grown while reaching up to ruffle his hair. Other than a few childhood friends and the “family” he feels obligated to meet due to the biological bond he unwillingly shares with his father, Eren has successfully avoided most of his past. 

He pedals past his old middle school, zooming past the gates and grimacing as he remembers the less pleasant parts of his past - struggling with algebra, running a mile at seven AM, and the terrible school uniforms they forced on everyone in a strange attempt to boost standardized test scores. He’s happier when he crosses the street and is greeted with the lit-up shops - the convenience store where he’d happily slurp down slushies with Armin after school, the Chinese restaurant that his class would frequent every year for Lunar New Year’s, and the bakery store that always smelled of freshly baked tarts and pies. Eren’s pedaling slows as he approaches the bakery and he inhales deeply, his lungs filling with the scent of buttery baguettes and chocolate tarts. The aroma is so distractingly sweet. His mouth begins to water at just the thought of them, and Eren wonders why he hadn’t bothered stepping foot in the bakery since coming back. He’s about to stop his bike and pop in for a brownie or a lemon bar only to realize that he’s biking far too fast and about to crash into someone. 

“Shit!” Eren’s bike screeches as he swerves out of the way and he crashes into a pole so hard that he can feel his teeth rattle. He topples to the ground with a hard thud, groaning as he rolls over onto his side that didn’t get smashed violently against a pole. When he opens his eyes, he sees stars as well as the face of an old man that he had last seen a decade ago. Eren tries to sit up, but his side is throbbing and he can only clutch at his side, trying his best to suppress a groan so as to not startle the man he had nearly collided with. He gives the man a weak smile. “Hey, Mr. Ral. I haven’t seen you in a while.” 

The old man’s mouth, which was already open to begin with after seeing Eren’s embarrassing bicycle collision, falls open a bit wider. “A-are you … okay?” he asks after a while, squinting a bit as he looks at Eren’s face and tries to place a name to it. Eren doesn’t really blame him for not remembering who he is. It’s been quite a while since they’ve seen each other and Eren has grown up a lot since then.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little bump,” Eren says, laughing it off. He manages to sit up and pushes himself off the ground, standing up and brushing off the little pebbles that have managed to stick to his face and clothing. He picks up his bike, leaning it against the pole before turning to the man again. “It’s Eren, by the way.” He pauses, observing Mr. Ral’s expression. When he sees that the man doesn’t recognize him, Eren politely adds, “Eren Kruger. I’m Zeke Jaeger’s younger brother.” 

A spark of recognition finally lights up in the old man’s eyes at the mention of Zeke’s name. Eren’s not going to lie, but it kind of hurts. “Ah, Zeke,” Mr. Ral says fondly. Eren shifts from feeling hurt to feeling slightly jealous. “How could I ever forget him? And you, of course. You two used to play with my dear Petra back in the day.” 

Petra, a name that Eren hasn’t heard in years, and yet hearing it still makes him blush like a young schoolboy. He ducks his head, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck, and he prays that Mr. Ral doesn’t notice the sudden flush of his cheeks. “Yeah, it’s been a while. How is, ah, Petra doing?” he asks. He had meant to ask the question casually, but he stumbles over the words a little too quickly. 

“Petra? She’s well,” Mr. Ral answers with a smile. The corners of his eyes crinkle and his laughter lines deepen. He doesn’t seem to notice how flustered Eren is. “She just started teaching at the same university that Zeke is teaching at.” 

That’s certainly news to Eren. Zeke hadn’t mentioned that at any of the family dinners Eren had attended recently. It could just be because Zeke hadn’t run into her yet or it had simply slipped his mind, but Eren kind of doubts it. If Petra’s father knew, then it’s highly unlikely that Zeke didn’t know. As much as Eren wants to frown, he fights the urge to turn the edges of his mouth downward and gives Mr. Ral a thin but polite smile. “That’s great to hear. What does she teach?” 

“English,” Mr. Ral replies, his chest puffed out proudly. It’s endearing how much he adores his daughter. “She teaches some upper-division classes on creative writing and a few classes for freshmen on critical reading and writing.” 

Eren’s smile is more genuine now, more fond as he listens to Mr. Ral speak about his daughter. “Yeah, that sounds like her. She was always really good with words.” He remembers lazy summer afternoons lying underneath the shade of a tree and pretending he was sleeping so that he could listen to Petra talk to Zeke on the front porch. It wasn’t even that he wanted to eavesdrop. He just liked the sound of her voice. Eren wonders if it’s still as wonderfully soothing and soft as he remembers. 

“And what about you?” Mr. Ral asks, snapping Eren out of his reverie. The old man seems to ask out of polite obligation. It figures that he isn’t really interested in Eren’s life. After all, he hadn’t remembered that Eren existed until five minutes ago. 

“I just graduated a few months ago. I majored in child education,” Eren replies. He looks down feeling slightly embarrassed although he’s not sure why. It feels like a step down from Petra’s accomplishments. His sort-of stepmom would certainly agree. She enjoys rubbing Zeke’s doctorate in Eren’s face whenever she gets the chance. Eren clears his throat and adds, “I’ve been working at Liberio Daycare. It’s near Shiganshina Elementary.” 

It’s unclear whether or not Mr. Ral recognizes the name but he nods and reaches over to give Eren a pat on the arm, a grin on his face as if the old man is actually proud of him. “That’s good! Your parents must be proud.” He doesn’t notice the way Eren flinches and carries on. “It’s good to hear that you’ve been well.” 

“Likewise,” Eren says. His eyes wander towards the bakery. It hadn’t occurred to him to look for Petra before, but now that he knows she’s back in town he can’t imagine doing anything else. He half hopes that she’ll be inside, maybe clearing the display for the night or wiping down the countertops, but all he sees is a girl his age at the register munching on some lavender bars that hadn’t sold. Before he can stop himself, Eren finds himself asking, “Is Petra in?” 

“Petra?” Mr. Ral asks with his eyebrows raised. Maybe it does seem out of the blue that Eren’s asking. Petra was always more Zeke’s friend than Eren’s. Mr. Ral gives Eren an apologetic smile and a shake of his head. “I’m afraid not. She told me she was eating dinner at a friend’s house. I’ll let her know you stopped by. Maybe you two can catch up sometime.” 

Eren shouldn’t feel so disappointed, but he can feel himself deflating at Mr. Ral’s words. He really doubts Petra would want to meet up with him. It’s not as if they were incredibly close before. Still, he gives Mr. Ral a gracious smile and says, “That would be great! I should probably get going. I have to, ah, eat dinner…” His voice trails off and he looks to bike only to find the front basket empty. Eyes straying further, he finds that his tub of potato salad had rolled out of his bike basket and onto the ground where it lay pitifully. Thankfully, the tub hasn’t broken and the potato salad hasn’t spilled out, but somehow the salad looks even more pathetic than it did when Eren purchased it. It’s something Eren would have been happy about fifteen minutes ago, but it’s embarrassing now. Quickly, he goes to pick it up and drop it into his bike basket with the slim hope that Mr. Ral wouldn’t think much about it, but Eren has never been that lucky. 

Mr. Ral must find him pitiful because he asks, “Why don’t you take some dessert home?” He’s already heading back into the bakery, gesturing for Eren to follow him despite Eren’s protests. “If you don’t, they’ll just go to waste. Or into my employee’s stomach, and goodness knows that she’s already eaten enough desserts today already.” 

“Thank you so much, sir,” Eren says, humbly bowing his head. 

“Sasha,” Mr. Ral calls the girl at the register. “Could you ring up a few things for Eren?” 

The girl’s head snaps up at the call of her name, her cheeks filled with pastry and crumbs all over her mouth. “Sure thing,” Sasha says, gulping down the last of her lavender bar and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She walks over to the side, Eren following her on the other side of the counter, and washes her hands hastily. As she wipes her hands dry with the hand towel, she looks at Eren brightly and asks in a chipper voice, “Do you have anything you want in particular?” 

Eren’s eyes scan over the display, but he doesn’t really look at anything in particular. He just wants to get out of this situation as quickly as possible. He’s embarrassed himself quite enough for today. “Just … whatever you’d recommend,” 

“Alright-y,” the girl hums, taking a bag and stuffing it full with little tarts and tea cakes and croissants. Eren looks at her briefly, realizing that he doesn’t recognize her. She must have moved here sometime during the past six years when he wasn’t around. 

As Sasha finishes preparing the bag, Eren walks over to the register and gets ready to pull his wallet out but Mr. Ral walks over, shaking his head. “No need to pay for it,” Mr. Ral says. He reaches over the counter and takes the bag from Sasha, presenting it to Eren with a smile. “Consider it a treat. Really, you’d be doing me a favor just taking it. They would have gone to waste otherwise.” 

“Ah, thank you,” Eren says, his face flushing once more. He takes the bag from Mr. Ral with a small bow of his head. “It was great seeing you again, Mr. Ral.” 

“Likewise,” Mr. Ral says with that same crinkly smile. He walks Eren to the door, watching as Eren packs the desserts alongside his potato salad. “Take good care of yourself, Eren, and tell your brother I said hi.” He waves as Eren assures him he’ll do just that, returning to the shop only once Eren has biked away. 

This is not how the night was supposed to go. Eren was supposed to be wandering around the neighborhood with his potato salad before waltzing into his father’s house an hour late, his sort-of stepmother silently fuming at the dinner table while the family sat and waited for him. He hadn’t planned on bumping into his childhood crush’s father, and he certainly hadn’t planned on looking so incredibly pathetic in front of Mr. Ral. He can only imagine what Mr. Ral will tell Petra when she sees her dad tonight. Maybe something about how he grew up to be such a loser even though his half-brother managed to graduate with a Ph.D. and is now a successful anthropology professor at the local university. It’s not something that usually gets Eren down, but thinking about it now is making him feel especially miserable. 

Eren’s not sure why the thought of Petra knowing how his life is so embarrassing. He hasn’t spoken to her in years, so her opinion of him shouldn’t matter. And even if she did have an opinion of him, he’s sure it wouldn’t be unkind. Petra had always been nice to him even when he was a kid and just being an annoying third wheel to her and Zeke. When his childish admiration of her turned into puppy love and eventually evolved into a full-fledged crush, she never brushed him off or thought him annoying, although there was a chance that she just never noticed. He couldn’t blame her for that when Zeke, honor roll student and valedictorian Zeke, was always standing right in front of her. He wasn’t even surprised when they started dating. It was inevitable. And when they eventually broke up for some reason that Eren still isn’t quite sure about, Eren knew he’d never be able to compare so he never tried to pursue her. It’s not surprising that he and Petra ended up losing touch. 

As much as he would love to blame Zeke for it (and it would be incredibly easy for him to blame Zeke), he can’t. Maybe it’s strange that he doesn’t harbor a deep hatred for his half-brother. Their relationship has all the makings of a classic sibling rivalry - a complicated family history, stark differences in accomplishments, and affections for the same girl - but Eren could never bring himself to hate Zeke. Even if Zeke’s mother liked to hold all of her son’s accomplishments over Eren’s head, Zeke himself never bragged about them. In fact, he was quite humble and would even offer to help his younger half-brother if he was struggling with something in school. Oftentimes he would invite Eren to hang out with his friends even though their age gap made it a little awkward. He even remembered Eren’s favorite snacks and would make sure they were in supply whenever Eren came over to visit. If Zeke’s mother was an evil Disney stepmother come to life, Zeke was that one fairytale sibling that was kind to the tragic main character, so Eren had no choice but to like Zeke. Even when Zeke broke up with Petra and Eren couldn’t understand why, when Zeke told Eren that it “just happened,” Eren kind of left it at that and accepted that because he couldn’t imagine Zeke doing anything wrong. 

Could Eren be classified with an inferiority complex with regards to his brother? Probably, but most siblings can. Eren would have to challenge whether or not someone with inferiority complexes would admire their brother as much as he does, but they might in a weird way. Eren’s sure that he and Zeke’s relationship would still be complicated even if they didn’t have all the weird history with Eren and Zeke’s parents. 

Eren sighs as he flies down a dip in the road, letting gravity carry him down instead of pedaling. He really doesn’t feel like he’s in the right headspace for this family dinner. Usually, he lets all of that woman’s snide comments ricochet, but his armor has grown weak and he can just imagine her landing the right thinly-veiled insult, her words burying into his skin and hitting right where it hurts. For a moment, Eren considers calling the dinner off with an excuse that will be sure to piss his stepmother off — probably something about how he has to restructure his lesson plan for the upcoming week — but he glances down at the potato salad and bag of baked goods in his bike basket and realizes that he really doesn’t want to eat them all by himself. If he’s going to suffer, he might as well make the rest of his family suffer alongside him. And besides, he’s pretty much already at their house anyway. 

His bike slows as he approaches the white-picket fenced house. He takes the potato salad tub and the bag of baked goods before leaving his bike on the driveway, not bothering to chain it to the fence because nobody would want to steal the old thing he bought from a garage sale anyway. The sight of it lying in front of the house instead of properly locked up will be sure to piss off that woman too, which is just an added bonus. With a sigh, Eren marches up the front steps, shifting the food all on one arm so he can ring the doorbell. The familiar chime rings out, muted from behind the wooden door. A muffled voice mumbles something Eren can’t hear, but he already knows that the speaker has nothing good to say about him. 

The door is thrown open and Eren looks down to see his stepmother glowering up at him, blue eyes a raging storm. “You’re late,” she hisses. She doesn’t even give him a greeting; she just stands there in front of him silently fuming. Behind her stands Eren’s father. As expected, he says nothing to defend his son’s tardiness. The man just stands there, uncomfortable as he quietly observes. 

“Sorry, Dina,” Eren says, squeezing past his stepmother who makes an indignant noise. He dangles the food he brought in front of her face, rolling his eyes when she snatches the bag from him only to wrinkle her nose in disgust when she sees the potato salad. “I brought dessert, too. Do you want me to put it somewhere …?” 

Dina snatches the bag of desserts from him too, still huffing. “We have a guest tonight too. Do you know how rude you’re being?” she says, continuing to nag at him even though Eren has stopped listening to her years ago. 

Eren’s father gently grabs Eren by the elbow, subtly ushering him inside to avoid any more conflict but Eren yanks his arm away. 

“Well, maybe if you told me we were having a guest beforehand I would have showed up on time,” Eren snaps. He sounds angry as he says it, but he really does mean it. It’s one thing to be rude to his stepmother, but it’s another thing entirely to be rude to a guest he doesn’t know. He’d at least wait for introductions before deciding whether or not to show any manners. 

Before his stepmother can say anything more, Eren stomps off into the dining room where Zeke and the guest are waiting. He keeps his head down, cheeks burning, as he pulls out his chair - the one furthest from everyone - and slumps down into it. “Sorry, I’m late,” Eren mumbles, still looking down. 

“Eren,” says a deep voice that Eren recognizes as Zeke’s. Hearing the voice of someone other than his stepmother’s makes Eren relax a bit and he rests with his back against his chair, a little more at ease now. He can hear Zeke’s small smile as his half-brother asks, “Aren’t you going to say hi to our guest?” 

“Uh, yeah. Hi,” Eren says. His eyes flicker upward, first at Zeke who sits across from him, and then at the guest. He looks so quickly at first that he doesn’t register exactly who he’s seeing until he does a double-take, his green eyes widening as they take in the woman sitting there. It’s someone he hadn’t expected to see ever again, much less sitting at his family’s dining table, and he’s so surprised that he almost chokes. For a moment, he thinks it might just be a doppelganger, but there’s no mistaking the soft dimples that appear in her cheeks as her lips curl in a smile. “...Petra?” 

“Hi, Eren.” Petra’s voice is still as gentle and soothing as Eren remembers, the sound of it so honey-sweet that he feels his cheeks bloom a soft pink. There’s so much about her that’s different, but there’s so much more that’s the same. Her hair is shorter now, no longer falling right at her shoulder, but curling right under her chin in a short bob. It’s the same shade of ginger it was when he was a kid. If it’s under the right light, it would probably burn a fiery gold. Her doe eyes are the same pretty amber, sweet and dangerously entrancing at the same time. She’s even dressed differently, her button-up blouse and slick gray trousers such a departure from the casual jeans and t-shirts she wore ten years ago when Eren was still in high school. Eren feels horribly underdressed - his ratty university sweatshirt over a thin cotton tee and his ripped jeans are so shabby in comparison - but a glimmer of silver on Petra’s wrist attracts Eren’s attention to the charm bracelet she wears, jangling with charms that Eren remembers her collecting in her high school days, and he feels a little less like he’s meeting a stranger and more like he’s reuniting with an old friend. 

“How are you?” Eren asks shyly, his smile bashful. 

“I’m well,” she answers, and Eren feels himself melting into her voice the same way he did when he was thirteen. When she smiles, her head tilts ever so slightly to the right just the way it did when he first met her and her dimples deepen into her cheeks. “How are you?” 

“Good,” Eren answers because he doesn’t trust himself to string together more than a word or two at a time. He wonders if she realizes how he’s unraveling at the sound of her voice or if she’s as oblivious as she was the last time. 

“I’m glad,” Petra says, and the warm look Petra gives Eren reignites a flame in the pit of his belly that he had thought he extinguished long ago. Her head tilts a little bit more to the side, her eyes twinkling. “I missed you,” Petra tells him, and Eren finds himself in love once more. 

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

There are rules to dealing with your ex-boyfriend after you’ve broken up, Petra knows, but it’s been ten years and she figures that these rules can be bent. So what if the last time she saw Zeke she was broken-hearted, crying in the rain as he turned his back on her? She was younger then, her feelings out of control for someone who didn’t care for her nearly as much as she cared for him. And, sure, maybe it’s terrible that she never received the closure that she deserves, but she can’t hold a grudge against him forever. They work in the same university and cowering behind the nearest trashcan every time they meet doesn’t seem to be a viable option. Petra’s older now and so is Zeke. They’re mature. They can be friends like adults are after they’ve broken up, so the universe should be able to understand her accepting Zeke’s dinner request that evening even if her friends couldn’t. 

She only started to regret her decision when Zeke offered to drive her there after his classes ended - saving gas and the planet, he explained - and she agreed. Although Petra repeatedly told herself that it was a simple family dinner and that such an invitation was extended to Zeke’s other friends on occasion, she found herself sitting impatiently in her office, biting her nails down so close to the quick that her fingers started to bleed. Having to bandage her fingers as she waited did absolutely nothing to soothe her nerves. 

“I don’t see why you’re so nervous,” Levi tells her over the phone. He taught in the mathematics department, but they had met after Petra had nervously stumbled into the wrong building and into his office on her first day at the university. The man has a perpetual scowl on his face, and that very same expression had nearly sent Petra running until she weakly explained that she must have gotten lost and he kindly redirected her to the building her office was located in. She thought that was going to be the end of their interaction until he emailed her shortly after asking if she had gotten to her office alright. Finding him a kindred spirit, he had become her first (and sadly only) companion at the university aside from Zeke. “If you’re friends with him, it shouldn’t be that big of a deal.” 

“Well, it’s just that I haven’t really seen him since we, you know, broke up,” Petra explains, but she doubts that Levi understands. She had told him her history with Zeke a few weeks ago after he asked her why she was so jittery at the faculty luncheon, but he didn’t have much of a reaction. It was sort of nice having someone to talk to that wasn’t as hyperbolically reactive as the rest of her friends, but it was also painfully difficult when Levi didn’t show her any sympathy. 

“You saw him last week when you were at the library to look for reference books,” he reminds her as if it were the same thing. “I don’t know why this dinner has you in a panic. You left me nearly a hundred messages while I was teaching class.” He hadn’t even replied to her texts, the bastard. He had simply left her on read until midnight before sending her a thumbs-up emoji to let her know that he had read her messages, which was not exactly the response Petra was waiting for. 

“This is different!” Petra insists, but she knows Levi will never see it that way. 

“You’re making this a much bigger deal than it needs to be,” Levi says. She can hear him scribbling something on the other end, probably correcting exams for his differential equations classes and marking a poor student’s paper in an abundance of red. “Either cancel or just go to dinner with him. You’ve had family dinners with him even before you guys got together right?” 

“Yeah, but that was back when we were kids,” Petra mumbles, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. 

“Then you’ll be fine,” he tells her. 

“You’re horribly unsympathetic sometimes,” she sighs. 

“If you wanted sympathy, you shouldn’t have called me,” Levi says with a cluck of his tongue, but he chuckles when he hears her groan on the other end. “Really, it’ll be fine. You’re just overthinking it. I’m sure it’ll be fine. And you said the kid will be there, right? His brother, so it’s not as if you’ll be alone with Zeke and his parents.” 

Petra lays with her head on her desk, her phone pressed against her cheek. “Yeah, you’re right,” she mumbles, but her lower lip still sticks out in a pout. The thought of Eren being there, sweet little Eren with his eager puppy eyes and wide smile, does make her feel better if only a little. She probably hasn’t seen him since she broke up with Zeke. She wonders if he’s changed very much. He’d be in college now? Or maybe he graduated. “I haven’t seen him in awhile though. What if he hates me now?” 

“You’re overthinking again,” Levi says. He sighs on the other end. If Petra didn’t know him very well, she would think she was bothering him, but he’s always like this. “Are you going to be okay?” 

“Yes. No. Maybe,” Petra sniffs. She looks sadly at her bandaged fingers and picks at the ends of one of them. “Should I just cancel? Maybe I can tell him I fell down the stairs and had to go to the hospital or something -” Someone knocks at the door and Petra lets out a startled yelp, nearly falling out of her chair because she’s so surprised. When she looks at the door, she sees Zeke’s silhouette against the frosted glass pane. The sight of it makes her want to hide behind her desk. “God, he’s here already!” 

“Too late for you to run then,” Levi says, not even bothering to hide his snickering. He’s such a sadist that Petra doesn’t even know why she’s friends with him sometimes. “Have fun at your absolutely normal dinner with your friend and his family.” Click!

“Asshole,” Petra mutters under her breath before shoving her phone in her bag. There’s another knock at the door — the same long, slow knocks that are a signature of Zeke’s —  and she hastily shouts, “I’ll be right there!” before shoving her papers in her bag and stumbling out of the door, nearly tripping over her own feet in the process. She must look like a mess because Zeke raises an eyebrow at her when she emerges from her office. Petra catches a glimpse of her reflection in the window and winces at her frumpled shirt and the hair falling out of her bun. She mumbles an apology as she pulls the hair ties out of her bun, her hair falling in loose curls around her face. 

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” Zeke asks. 

“No! God, no,” Petra says, inwardly cringing at every word that comes out of her mouth. Even she can tell how awkward her responses sound, a little too quick and desperate. What is she being so anxious for? It’s just dinner with a friend —  an ex-boyfriend, but a friend nonetheless. Petra clears her throat and asks as casually as she can manage, “How are your parents?” 

“Hmm? They’re well, I suppose,” he answers. Everything about him is familiar. He’s grown just a bit taller since Petra last saw him, his shoulders a bit broader and his jawline a bit sharper, but he still wears the same double-bridge glasses and the right corner of his mouth still quirks upward just the slightest bit when he speaks. He even walks the same way, his strides a little too long and quick, and Petra finds that she still has to struggle a bit to keep up. If Zeke notices the same thing about her - how she still wears the same shade of lipstick, how she still has that habit of wrapping her hair around her finger when she’s nervous like she’s doing now, how she bites her lip when she’s not sure what to say next - he doesn’t mention it. “My father’s still working at the hospital with my grandfather. He’s been promoted to director of the orthopedics department.” 

“Oh, congrats!” 

“And you know my mother has been at the hospital now that she doesn’t have to worry about me anymore,” Zeke says. It’s strange how casually he says this, as if he doesn’t remember that the last time he spoke about his mother to Petra was when they were still together. “She really missed being in the OR. Says she’d rather be doing surgeries all day than taking care of me.” 

“It’s nice that she can go back to it.” She nearly stumbles over a step but catches the railing before she can. When she looks up again, Zeke is already on the sidewalk and she hurries after him, a little breathless. “And Eren?” 

“Eren?” Zeke seems a little surprised by the question although Petra doesn’t know why. He leads her to a car - a slick Mercedes with a shining blue exterior and tinted windows that don’t quite match Zeke’s academic profession —  and opens the car doors with a click. 

“Your brother,” she clarifies as Zeke walks over to the driver’s side and slips into the car. She opens the passenger car and slides into the seat beside Zeke, setting her bag down next to her feet. The door swings shut behind her. “He’s coming to the dinner too, right?” 

Zeke turns on the engine and the car comes to life with a pleasant hum. “Most likely,” Zeke says as he checks the side and rearview mirrors before pulling out of the parking space. He even drives the same way, his arm resting on the side with his hand tapping against the door while one hand is on the wheel. Just watching him makes Petra’s chest feel tight. 

“Ah, that’s good. I haven’t seen him in so long,” Petra says. For some reason, knowing that Eren will also be there makes her feel a little more relaxed about the dinner. “Is he still in college? I think he should have graduated by now.” 

“He graduated a little while ago. He’s teaching now. Still on probation, but he says his colleagues like him so he’s not too worried about getting tenure after the probationary period is over.” He slows the car to a stop at an intersection and leans over, fiddling with the radio dial. He sets it to the jazz station and the sound of smooth brass and relaxed percussion fills the car. 

Somehow, driving down the streets with Zeke is far more nostalgic than it ever was when Petra drove on her own. Some nights Petra drove home by herself, and all it ever felt was lonely. Maybe it’s the familiarity of having Zeke beside her like when they were teenagers, driving back home after watching a movie downtown or returning from a basketball game at their high school. 

Petra doesn’t ask any more questions about Zeke’s family. She figures she can catch up with the rest of the Jaegers when she sees them at dinner. Instead, she asks Zeke about his classes and finds that conversation with him comes more easily after she stops stumbling over her words. He tells her a little bit about teaching anthropology (“Far less painful than you think it would be, at least when the kids aren’t just taking it to fulfill their core classes,” he says), his plans for the upcoming week (“It’s midterms, but the students should be fine if they actually look at the study guide.”), and the butterfly exhibit opening up at the museum downtown (“I’m thinking of putting it up as extra credit. Who knows, they might actually look at the other exhibits while they’re wandering around.”). Petra also fills him in on her own life, mumbling about how she still has to make the answer key to her own midterm and expressing interest in the butterfly exhibit Zeke mentions. 

They pull up next to Zeke’s house, the very same one he grew up with. Not much has changed from the outside. The white picket fence is a little worn and the rose bushes have been replaced with peonies. The house is still the same shade of cream, but Petra is sure that the Jaegers had it repainted over the summer like they usually do. She looks up at the second-story window where Zeke’s room should be and vaguely wonders if it’s still his room or if he’s moved out and hasn’t mentioned it yet. 

Walking up the brick steps to the door is a bit surreal. Petra doesn’t realize just how silent she’s been until the chime of the doorbell startles her and Mrs. Jaeger opens the door. As with most of Zeke’s family members, Petra hasn’t seen Mrs. Jaeger since she broke up with Zeke, but she had an amicable relationship with her. She can’t recall Mrs. Jaeger ever being angry, so she’s surprised when Zeke’s mother opens the door with a terrible scowl on her face. 

“Mom, you remember Petra,” Zeke says, moving aside so that Petra can enter first. 

The scowl quickly slips from Mrs. Jaeger’s face, replaced with a smile that Petra is more familiar with. “Petra, of course! I haven’t seen you in ages,” Mrs. Jaeger says, her voice strained. She waves Petra and Zeke in, shutting the door gently behind them. “It’s nice to see you again.” 

“Likewise,” Petra mumbles. She looks at the kitchen doorway where Zeke’s father leans and gives him an awkward wave. The man, just as silent as he was when Petra was young, gives her a polite smile and a nod in acknowledgment. 

“Sorry, we’re a bit late,” Zeke apologizes as he shrugs off his coat. He walks over to the dining room, Petra and his mother trailing behind him. “A student wanted to talk to me and it took a bit longer than I thought it would.” 

“No need to apologize! Eren hasn’t arrived yet anyway. He’ll probably be late. Again.” There’s a harsh tone in Mrs. Jaeger’s voice that Petra hasn't heard before. When she looks up, she sees Zeke’s mother hovering around the table and arranging dishes, the same polite smile on her face as she does so. “Your brother, of course, didn’t bother to send a text to notify us that he’d be late.” 

Petra wonders if Mrs. Jaeger usually speaks about Eren with such disappointment in her voice. Maybe she had always spoken about Eren like this and Petra had never been around to witness it or maybe it’s something that developed while Petra was away. Whatever it is, Zeke and his father seem used to it. Zeke merely shrugs, pulling out his phone to flip through his phone while his mother continues to mutter about how disrespectful her stepson is. Mr. Jaeger continues to stand at the doorway, not bothering to join them at the dining table, his eyes fixed on the carpet. He doesn’t bother to defend his son. 

“Maybe he’s busy,” Petra says, interrupting Mrs. Jaeger mid-rant. She feels rude for speaking while Mrs. Jaeger is talking, but sitting in silence while Zeke’s mother speaks ill of Eren doesn’t feel right either. All eyes are on her now - Mrs. Jaeger a little surprised, Zeke with an eyebrow quirked upward as if in amusement, and his father with a look that’s almost relieved. Petra clears her throat and continues. “He’s a teacher, right? It must be difficult teaching so many children every day — making the lesson plan and everything. Maybe texting slipped his mind. He’ll probably be here soon.” 

God, she hopes Eren will be here soon. Her cheeks are starting to burn bright red and she’s thinking that perhaps speaking up might not have been the best decision. 

“Ah, you’re probably right.” Mrs. Jaeger seems a little more composed now, perhaps remembering that they have company over. She settles down in the chair across from Zeke and flashes a pleasant smile at Petra. “He can be quite forgetful of these things. Of course, you’d never worry your father like this. You’ve always been so responsible.” 

Has talking with Zeke’s mother always been this difficult? Petra’s head is starting to spin, unsure of what response would be appropriate. She feels as if she should defend Eren, but she doesn’t want to make things awkward either. In the end, she smiles awkwardly at Mrs. Jaeger as if accepting the woman’s compliment and reaches out for the glass of water in front of her, raising it to her lips before she can say anything else that she might regret. 

“Dear, come sit next to me,” Mrs. Jaeger calls. She gestures for her husband to join them at the table and Mr. Jaeger stiffly walks over from the doorway before taking a seat at the head of the table. Mrs. Jaeger folds her hands on the table, her gaze still on Petra. “How have you been, Petra? We haven’t heard from you in a while. How long have you been back?” 

The series of questions leave Petra tongue-tied and unsure of how to answer. It’s so strange how casual the Jaegers can be about asking after her, like she hadn’t been such a large part of their lives — or at least Zeke’s life — ten years ago before disappearing completely. As if they didn’t know the real reason she hadn’t kept in touch. She’s not sure if she’ll ever be able to act as oblivious as them. 

“Er, I’ve been back for a while now,” she replies. She bites her lip when she sees the look of surprise on Mrs. Jaeger’s face. When she glances over at Zeke, he doesn’t look back at her. He’s returned his gaze to his phone screen, ignoring her. Nervously, she laughs. “I guess Zeke didn’t tell you, but I’m teaching at the same university he is. A few undergraduate English classes and then a graduate course on nature and romantic poetry.” Petra doesn’t know why she feels a lump at the back of her throat or the sting of tears at the corner of her eyes. She nibbles at her lip again, looking down at her lap so that she doesn’t have to look at Zeke or his family. She doesn’t have a reason to feel hurt or upset. Maybe Zeke was busy and didn’t have the chance to mention it to his parents or maybe it just slipped his mind. It isn’t a big deal. 

“Oh, that must be nice!  Who knew you two would be working together after all these years?” Mrs. Jaeger says. She subtly pushes the cheese plate on the table towards Petra, gesturing for her to take one. 

“Mmm,” Petra says, nodding as if she agrees with Mrs. Jaeger. It’s not as if she’s wrong. Petra certainly didn’t know any of this would happen. She knew some of it would — getting her degree, teaching at a university, eating dinner with Zeke’s parents — she just hadn’t predicted other things like Zeke breaking up with her, not speaking with him for ten years after knowing him her entire life, or having to pretend that she’s okay. 

Petra reaches for a cracker and a spread of raspberry goat cheese and shoves the entire thing in her mouth, hoping that she won’t have to answer any more questions. 

“The university is nice,” Zeke’s father murmurs. It’s the first time he’s spoken all night. The sound of his voice startles Petra, but the other Jaegers don’t seem too surprised. “It’s near the museum too. Very convenient.” 

“Ah, the museum!” Mrs. Jaeger clasps her hands together and looks at Petra expectantly. Petra nearly chokes on her cracker out of nervousness. “Have you been there yet?” 

“Er, not yet,” Petra says hastily, wincing at the pain in her throat. She takes a quick sip of her water to relieve it. “I haven’t really found the time, I guess.” 

“Oh, you should absolutely go!” says Mrs. Jaeger brightly. Petra had never thought Mrs. Jaeger was one to love museums, but there’s probably a lot about the woman that Petra doesn’t know now. All Petra really remembers about the woman is that she stayed at home during the daytime and worked at the hospital at night. She’s bound to have found other ways to occupy her time now that she doesn’t have to worry about Zeke anymore. 

“You sound as if you really enjoy it.” Petra nibbles at another cracker. She feels as if she should smile right now, but she’s not sure if she’s able to. “Are there any exhibits you would recommend?” 

“Oh, they’re all good! The staff especially …,” Mrs. Jaeger gushes, but her voice begins to trail off. Her eyes flicker over to Zeke as if waiting for a sign to proceed, but her son pays no attention to her. He simply reaches over for an almond on the cheese plate and pops it into his mouth. His mother’s smile tightens and she continues, “The butterfly exhibit that’s opening soon should be exquisite!” 

Petra looks from Zeke to Mrs. Jaeger. Aside from Mrs. Jaeger’s forced smile, Petra really can’t tell what’s wrong, so she puts on a false smile of her own and nods. “I know. Zeke was telling me about it on the ride here.” 

There’s a long and awkward silence. Zeke puts no effort in speaking and neither does his father, who still sits and stares at his lap. Only Mrs. Jaeger and Petra seem to be putting in any effort to pick up the conversation, both trying to appear calm as they search for some common ground to work with. Instead, the doorbell rings and Petra swears she hears a sigh of relief escape Mrs. Jaeger’s lips. 

“It seems Eren has finally arrived,” Mrs. Jaeger says, her chair scraping across the floor as she gets up from the table. As she turns to leave, she flashes Petra an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry you had to wait so long.” Petra is about to tell her that it wasn’t a problem, that she didn’t mind waiting (even if it was a lie), but Zeke’s mother has already disappeared into the next room with Zeke’s father following silently behind her. 

For a moment, Petra wonders if she should try to talk to Zeke so more. It’s not that the quiet bothers her, but she’s never felt comfortable sitting silently next to others unless she was completely comfortable with them. Ten years ago this would have been fine, but now sitting with Zeke beside her without saying a word is making her skin crawl and her throat dry. She glances at him from the corner of her eye, trying to gauge his interest. 

Zeke doesn’t seem to be bothered by the silence at all. He’s still scrolling through his phone, occasionally reaching out to pluck a cracker or another almond from the cheese plate. If he’s fine without any conversation, Petra figures she shouldn’t bother him. She settles down with her back against her chair rather unhappily and tries to occupy herself another way. 

Petra tries not to eavesdrop on the conversation going on in the other room. First, she stares down at the lace tablecloth, gazing at the delicate pattern until the floral designs are burned into her corneas. Mrs. Jaeger’s voice begins to drift into the dining room, her tone just as cold and harsh as it was when she spoke about Eren earlier this evening. Another voice floats into the room as well, a voice like Eren’s but a bit deeper and rougher than Petra remembers. As the two continue to talk, Petra finds herself straining to listen to the conversation, but she can’t quite make out the words. The words exchanged don’t sound incredibly pleasant though. 

“...if you told me we were having a guest beforehand I would have shown up on time,” Eren hisses as he walks into the room. He’s taller than he was when Petra had seen him last — probably as tall as his brother if not taller — but he walks with his head down and doesn’t seem to notice Petra seated at the table even as he pulls out a chair to sit down. Without looking up, Eren mumbles, “Sorry, I’m late.” 

Zeke looks up, his expression amused. “Eren,” he says, setting down his phone for once. He rests his chin in his hand, mouth quirked upward in a smile. “Aren’t you going to say hi to our guest?” 

“Uh, yeah. Hi,” Eren says, mumbling into his lap. His eyes flicker upward, first at Zeke and then Petra, but he doesn’t really register who Petra is until he takes another glance. His eyes are huge like a doe’s. He’s always had big eyes even when he was a child, large and green like gemstones. He’s grown into them more since the last time Petra has seen him, but they’re still enormous, growing wider as he recognizes her. His mouth falls open in surprise. “... Petra?” 

She can feel her lips curling in a smile. “Hi, Eren.” 

Eren smiles back at her, a little nervous but a lot more relaxed than he was when he first arrived. He’s still shy when he smiles, looking up at her before glancing down at his lap again. “How are you?” He sits up straighter in his seat, no longer slouching. 

“I’m well. How are you?” 

“Good,” Eren answers.

“I’m glad. I missed you,” Petra tells him, and she means it. 

His smile is a little wider now and Petra feels the most relaxed than she’s been the entire night. It’s nice to know that, despite everything, at least Eren hasn’t changed and she feels less awkward being at a Jaeger family dinner after ten years of estrangement. 

Mrs. Jaeger puts down a tub of what looks like a potato salad on the table, opening the container with a frown. “At least you didn’t come empty-handed,” she comments wryly. 

Eren winces but doesn’t say anything. 

Petra sits up. “It looks, um, delicious.” It doesn’t. It looks like a pile of mush and not at all like anything edible, but Petra begins to spoon some on her plate anyway out of politeness despite the look of alarm on Eren’s face. “Eren, your brother told me you started teaching recently. Where do you teach?” 

“Just, um, down the street. Not really elementary … it’s a daycare,” he says distractedly as he watches her help herself to his potato salad. Eren hesitates for a moment before taking the spoon from Petra and switching their plates. He does it absentmindedly, almost as if he doesn’t realize what he’s doing until he notices everyone looking at him peculiarly. Flustered, he explains, “It’s not, ah, I don’t think it’s very good. So.” As if to prove his point, he puts a heaping spoonful of it into his mouth, gagging on it as he swallows it down, and scrunches his face up in disgust. 

Mrs. Jaeger looks rather smug as Eren chokes. “I’ll just put this away then,” she says, removing the tub of potato salad from the table. She gestures for Petra to help herself to the other food on the table. “Help yourself to everything else, Petra.” 

“Er, thank you,” Petra says. She does feel bad about not eating the potato salad, but Eren looks pretty relieved. Because she’s talked Zeke’s ear off in the car and doesn’t know how to carry on a conversation with the Jaeger parents, she decides to continue her conversation with Eren. “Daycare seems like it would suit you. I bet you’re great with kids.” 

“I’m alright,” Eren mumbles as he pushes the potatoes back and forth on his plate, but he’s hiding a smile on his face, secretly pleased. He’s never been that good at hiding his emotions, which Petra thinks is an endearing trait. “Teaching at a university is probably harder.” He freezes for a moment and then hurriedly adds, “Your dad told me you work as a professor now. I ran into him before coming here. He mentioned that you taught English …?” 

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, casting a side glance at Zeke. She thought Zeke would have mentioned that they were working at the same university, but maybe it never came up in conversation between the brothers or they just weren’t as close as they were before. Forcing a smile on her face, she nods, “Yeah, I teach English, but I wouldn’t say teaching university is more or less difficult than handling a daycare. They have their own challenges, right?” 

“Yeah,” Eren replies, voice soft. His smile grows wider and, after Petra asks him about what it’s like teaching at the daycare, starts animatedly talking about his students. He seems very endeared towards a young girl named Gabi, a very mischievous but sweet troublemaker, and her companion Falco, a young boy that often has no choice but to be dragged into all of Gabi’s shenanigans. 

Talking to Eren makes the rest of the dinner go by easily. He’s always been easy to talk to even when they were teenagers and she was dating Zeke. Sometimes she would wait at the Jaeger house and talk with Eren while they waited for Zeke to come back from baseball practice. Eren was always so animated when he talked, using his hands and sometimes bouncing up and down his seat when he got excited. He still does that now as he talks about his work at the daycare, listening intently whenever Petra or even Zeke exchange their own stories about teaching. It makes her feel as if the past ten years hadn’t really happened, like Zeke and Eren had been a part of her life the entire time. 

“Oh, I brought dessert,” Eren says brightly. Before Mrs. Jaeger can say anything, he gets up to collect the paper bag on the kitchen counter and plops it on the dining table. He pushes it closer to Petra. “Your dad gave me some while he was closing up his shop.” 

She laughs. “I eat too many of these as it is,” Petra says, but she plucks an almond cookie from the bag. Her teeth sink into the cookie, savoring its subtle nutty flavor on her tongue, and sighs. “Don’t tell my dad. He won’t let me eat anymore when I get home.” 

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Eren grins. 

Petra peers into the bag. “Did he give you any chocolate croissants?” She looks over at Eren. “Those are still your favorites, right?” 

Eren looks surprised. “Ah, yeah,” he replies, blinking. “You remember?” 

“Of course, I remember,” she snorts. She manages to find a pain au chocolat and places it delicately on Eren’s plate. It’s a little smooshed from the ride here, chocolate spilling out of its side, but Eren still looks at it hungrily. “Why wouldn’t I?” 

Zeke leans forward. “I like the lemon bars. Let me know if there are any in there.” 

She laughs and actually does manage to find one, but it’s a lemon-lavender bar. Zeke assures her it’s fine, picking off the little bits of lavender that are on the top of the bar. They eat like that for a moment and Petra feels an overwhelming wave of nostalgia. It’s probably unhealthy to yearn for the past, but Petra wouldn’t mind if things somehow ended up the way they were before. 

When their dishes are scraped clean and the conversations begin to fade away, Zeke pats down the corner of his mouth with a napkin before announcing that they should stop for the night. He has papers to grade tonight, he explains to his parents who nod understandingly. The wooden legs of his chair scrape against the carpet as he gets up from the table and Petra slides out of her own seat, ready to follow him. 

“Ah, Petra,” Zeke says, pausing like he’s just remembered. He looks at her, head tilting slightly. He’s stopped by the door to the living room, his hand resting on the doorframe. “Do you mind calling an Uber to pick you up? I’d drive you home myself but …” 

“I …” Petra blinks, feeling like a deer in headlights. If she looked around, she would see that the rest of the Jaeger family has a similar expression. She’s not sure why she feels so surprised. Maybe it’s because she had expected him to drive her home, but maybe that was too much to ask of him after he had taken the trouble to drive her here in the first place. It’s not even that far of a drive to her house, but it’s probably too cumbersome for Zeke, who’s busy with grading papers and preparing for tomorrow’s lectures. There’s an awful lump in her throat like she had swallowed an egg whole, but Petra forces a smile on her face as she begins, “Sure, let me just call my dad -” 

“I’ll take you home,” a voice says suddenly. Everyone turns to see Eren standing up from his chair. At first glance he looks angry, but Petra blinks again and there’s only concern on his face as he collects his jacket and walks over to Petra. He shrugs it on and smiles down at her, his expression a little apologetic. “Er, you don’t mind riding on a bike, do you?” 

Petra has to lift her head to look at Eren and she wonders when he had gotten so tall. It must have been after she left for college. “No, that’s fine,” she replies numbly, too shocked to really think about it. She shuffles silently after Eren, mumbling a brief “thank you” when he helps her into her coat. 

“It was lovely having you over again, dear,” Mrs. Jaeger says to Petra, a smile pasted on the woman’s face as she saw the two out. She doesn’t say anything about Zeke not offering Petra a ride back. “Do come again sometime.” 

“Of course,” Petra says, although the promise feels empty. She’s not sure if Mrs. Jaeger notices or even cares because the woman shuts the door in her face before Eren and Petra are even out in the driveway. It’s not a cold gesture, but it’s a change from the days when Mrs. Jaeger would wait until Petra was almost out of sight before shutting the door and disappearing into the house. 

Petra shoves her hands into the pockets of her coat and follows Eren down the driveway, watching as he runs to the bike he had carelessly discarded on the ground before entering the house earlier. Embarrassed, Eren hastily picks up the bike, brushing it off and mumbling something about how he had been in too much of a hurry earlier to properly lock up his bike. Petra assures him it’s fine. She’s only half-listening anyway. 

“You can just sit here,” Eren says, patting a padded seat on the back of his bike. He throws a leg over his bike easily and looks at Petra, waiting expectantly. 

She hadn’t objected to the ride home before, but now she looks at Eren’s vehicle of choice skeptically. “Are you sure you’ll be able to pedal with me on it? I’m a whole other person.” Petra hovers beside the bike, but she doesn’t get on. 

“Yeah, it’s fine. It was fine when my boyfriends were riding in the back, and they’re a lot heavier than you,” Eren replies. It takes him a moment to register what he just said and then his face begins to color, cheeks glowing pink even in the dim moonlight. “I mean my ex-boyfriends. I rode around with my ex-girlfriend too, but she was really tiny too. She was …” He probably would have babbled on and on if Petra hadn’t sat down. 

“Your exes?” Petra asks, eyebrow raised. She hadn’t really thought about Eren dating, but it’s funny to think about now. She doesn’t remember if he ever dated anyone when he was in high school. She probably shouldn’t tease, but she can’t resist grinning at the boy and saying, “It looks like you were busy in college.” 

“Not that busy. Just … probably as busy as your average college student,” Eren mumbles under his breath, face still flushed. He gestures at Petra’s hands and then makes a motion around his waist. “You can … around me if, you know, you’re comfortable with it.” 

“Oh, right.” She leans forward and wraps her arms around Eren’s waist and wonders briefly how someone so tall can have such a thin waist. “Do you remember the way to my house?” she asks. 

“Of course,” Eren says. “It’s not that far from here.” 

For some reason, the way Eren answers makes Petra feel warm. Maybe it’s just the heat transfer from resting her cheek on his back. She closes her eyes, feeling the wind rush around her as Eren bikes her back home. 

It feels so comfortable, clinging onto someone so familiar and breathing in Eren’s scent, something like pinewood and a little bit of peppermint. He feels strong too, sturdy like a redwood tree. Petra doesn’t know why she doubted his ability to bike with her additional weight. He’d probably be fine having someone twice her weight in tow. She experimentally gives Eren’s waist a little squeeze. It must have been too sudden of a squeeze because they come to a screeching stop, Petra’s face slamming against Eren’s back and the two of them nearly go flying. 

“Oh, ouch,” Petra says. One arm is still wrapped around Eren’s lithe waist, but she raises a hand to rub her stinging face. “That hurts.” 

“S-sorry!” Eren stammers. He twists around to get a good look at Petra, forehead wrinkling. “I didn’t mean to stop so suddenly I was just … surprised.” He brings his hand down to where Petra’s arm is hooked around his waist, but he snatches his hand away as soon as their skin brushes as if he’s been burned. “Sorry!”

“It’s fine,” Petra assures him. Her nose is throbbing dully, but it’s not bleeding. “It’s my fault anyway. I was just surprised. You’re a lot bigger than you were the last time I saw you.” 

“I’m alright,” Eren says with a shy laugh. He pushes off on the bike and starts for home again, pedaling easily despite Petra’s weight. He doesn’t startle when Petra leans against him again, her cheek rubbing against the cotton of his hoodie. His breath hitches a little when Petra wraps her arms a little tighter around his waist, but it goes unnoticed by her. 

“Were they nice?” she asks. Eren makes a confused noise, and she can’t help but smile. Clarifying, she says, “Your exes. Were they nice?” 

Eren pedals in silence for a while before responding. “Yeah. They were nice.” 

“That’s good.” Petra sighs against his back, not noticing the way he shivers as if he can feel her breath on his skin. “You deserve to date nice people.” 

Petra might have imagined it, but she thinks she hears Eren say something in reply. He says it quietly, though, and the wind carries it away too quickly for her to hear. She straightens her back, lifting her head from where it rests against Eren’s back, but he doesn’t repeat himself and she doesn’t ask. Maybe it’s just one of those things that are meant to be spoken aloud but not heard by anyone. 

They don’t speak much the rest of the way home. Petra figures Eren is having enough trouble biking with two people and holding a conversation would only tire him out more. She just lets herself rest against him, watching as they pass streetlight after streetlight. It probably would have been more convenient to call a Lyft or an Uber, but Petra thinks accepting Eren’s bike ride isn’t bad either. It saved her from having to wait awkwardly for her driver to find the house while Zeke’s parents waited for her to leave. 

She wonders if she should have gone to dinner in the first place. Maybe Zeke had only invited her out of politeness, but she had taken it to mean more than it did. She’s stupid to think that arriving at the Jaeger house meant that things could go back to the way things were. It was noticeably tense in the house. At first, Petra thought it was because of the strained relationship between Mrs. Jaeger and Eren, but now she’s not so sure. It’s not as if Mr. and Mrs. Jaeger had met her with open arms. They hadn’t been hostile, but they were polite in the way that people were polite to house guests and not in the way they would be to a childhood friend of their son. God, she’s so stupid. She should have just declined Zeke’s offer politely and never spoken to him again since he was obviously content with not speaking with her for ten years. 

Burying her face in Eren’s hoodie, Petra gives him another squeeze. Eren doesn’t brake this time. He just lets out a surprised “oh!” and falters for a bit, bike slowing, before picking his pace back up and continuing on their way. 

“We’re almost there,” Eren tells her. As he approaches Petra’s house, the bike begins to slow before stopping completely in front of the driveway. When Petra lifts her head, Eren is looking at her, smiling. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah,” Petra nods. She gets off the bike and pats down her windswept hair, brushing some stray locks out of her face. She manages to smile back at Eren. “Thanks for the ride back. I hope it wasn’t too out of your way.” 

“It’s fine.” Eren sits at his bike, his smile a little lopsided. He looks as if he’s about to say something, but nothing comes. It’s only when Petra turns around towards her house that he opens his mouth. “Hey, Petra?” 

Petra’s hand rests on the gate of her wooden fence, just about to open it. She looks at Eren, watching as he fidgets with the handle of his bike. “Yeah?” 

“Did Zeke …?” His voice trails off and Eren’s looking everywhere except at her face. He nibbles on his bottom lip and Petra wonders what he’s so nervous about. His expression looks pained as if he’s scared whatever he has to say will hurt her, but Petra’s not sure why it would. After a moment, Eren swallows and forces a smile on his face. “Did Zeke tell you that … I work near your university?” 

“You do?” 

Eren nods. He looks a lot less nervous now, his shoulders relaxed. “Well, it’s not that far by bike.” 

“Really?” Petra hums. “I should come visit you some time then.” 

“Oh, you don’t have to -” 

“Or you could visit me?” she suggests. 

He blinks. “I can?” Eren asks. “Is that really okay?” 

Petra almost laughs. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be? You should just let me know beforehand if you’re coming,” she tells him. She walks over, pulling her phone out of her purse and handing it to him so he can add his number. “Text me or call me. I might not respond right away because I might have a faculty meeting or a lecture, but I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.” 

“Oh, alright then,” Eren says. He types away on her phone, handing it back to her as soon as he’s finished. He watches with wide green eyes as Petra sends him an emoji — a simple “Hi, Eren! It’s Petra 😊” — and looks back at her with a grin. “I’ll come visit sometime.” 

“That’d be great,” Petra says, and she really means it. “Thanks again for the ride, Eren. I really appreciate it.” 

“It was no problem,” Eren tells her. He waves as walks through the gate and up the steps of her porch. He’s still waving when she opens the door and turns around, his smile a little goofy but cute at the same time. “Have a good night!” 

“You too,” Petra says before shutting the door gently behind her. She takes a peek out the window and sees Eren still on the sidewalk with the bike. He stands there with a pensive look on his face before pushing off his bike and riding off into the night. Petra watches until he’s a tiny speck down the road. When she blinks, he’s gone. 

Petra finds her dad waiting for her in the living room, sleeping because he can’t stay awake for very long after dinner. In his lap sits a half-finished crossword puzzle. Petra smiles affectionately at her father before pressing a soft kiss on the old man’s brow. 

“I’m home,” she whispers as her father begins to stir. 

“Ah, Petra,” says her father. He looks at her, eyes still bleary with sleep, and gives her a drowsy smile. With a hand, he pushes up the glasses that were slipping off his nose during sleep. “Did Zeke drive you home?” 

Her lips press into a thin line. “No. He was busy,” Petra replies, trying to keep her voice as even as possible. “Eren took me home instead.” 

“Eren?” her father repeats, not seeming to remember the name. 

“Zeke’s younger brother,” Petra reminds him. She leans against the back of her father’s armchair as she tries to describe the half-brother. “He was a few years younger than me. Brown hair, big green eyes, kind of gangly.” 

“Oh, Eren,” her father says, nodding. Petra’s not sure if he actually remembers or if he’s just being polite, but then he suddenly says, “I saw him earlier this evening before I was closing up shop. He’s very polite. He’s a nice boy.” 

Petra leans over to rest her head on her father’s shoulder while her arms lay folded on the back of the armchair. She thinks about her ride home, how it could have been cold and miserable and lonely. And maybe her thoughts were all of those things, but the ride wasn’t. She can still feel the warmth Eren emanated from underneath his hoodie, how comforting it was to have someone to hold.

“Yeah. He’s a nice guy,” Petra says softly. 

[purplesurveys]

1248

Your ex taps you on the shoulder and says, “I still love you.” You say?  I feel like I’ve answered a similar situation recently, but I would assume it was a drunk text or wrong text, inform them about it, and move on.

Do you play video games?  Nah. I do feel a sort of connection of video games since I grew up surrounded by them, though; but I’m more of a watcher than anything. I like watching playthroughs of video games I’ll never play. Do you spend a lot of time with family?  No. We used to, back when the quarantine was still a relatively new thing – we hung out in the living room all the time. But now that we’ve settled in this new normal, we’re back to our normal routines and I usually like staying in my room.

Is your house more than two stories tall?  Technically, yes. We have a rooftop that serves as the ‘third’ floor.

Have you ever hit your significant other? Has he/she ever hit you?  My ex and I never hit one another; that’s a gigantic red flag even I would notice, considering I ignored most of the ones I saw hahaha.

What makes you an attractive person? (Talk about your personality too!)  I’m not sure if I’ll be able to answer this question directly, but I like my generosity. I’m not sure if I can call it attractive, though. But if we were focusing on physical features, I like my smile.

What color is your hairbrush/comb?  Pink.

What snacks do you have available in your household atm?  My dad splurged on chips in his last grocery run so we actually have quite a lot of junk food in the pantry at the moment. He also bought several packs of cookie sandwiches, wafers, sunflower seeds, and garlic-flavored peanuts.

Has anyone recently told you that they like you, or find you attractive?  Neither.

Are you attracted to the last person you Facebook messaged?  No, she’s just a good friend of mine.

Do you care about anyone that doesn’t care about you?  I guess I don’t, because I’m not even aware of them.

Was your last Facebook friend requests from a male or female?  Guy. It was another reporter, so I just ignored it and luckily he didn’t PM me just to ask to add him back, which others have already done. I really hate when work people try to make their way into my personal accounts.

Which one of your relatives is most likely to embarrass you?  My parents, especially when they are rude to service crew. Gen X-ers are impeccably talented at that, apparently.

When was the last time you ate a bar of chocolate?  Around two or three weeks ago when I had dinner at Angela’s. Her dad gave me a bar of Crunch so I can have something sweet after our meal.

Do you play any games on Facebook?  No, I never did hop on that trend.

What would you like to get a degree in?  I wanted a degree in journalism, and graduated with such. At the end of my college stint I didn’t want to pursue it anymore, but I pushed through with it anyway because it was too much of a hassle to shift and start all over.

Do you wake up a lot in the middle of the night? Technically not, because I stay up until the middle of the night anyway. It’s been a while since I fell asleep anywhere between 8 to 10 PM.

Would you prefer to read a book, watch a movie or TV show, or play a video game?  Watch a show.

Do you usually get popcorn or soda at the movie theater?  I don’t like either; I get fries instead.

What genre of films do you like the best?  Drama.

How many bank accounts do you have?  Two but I haven’t been using the other one in months. That was the bank account I initially opened when I first started ~adulting~ but when I got employed I was required to enroll in this other specific bank, so that’s what I mainly use now.

Have you ever had the flu?  Not really. I just get the occasional fever that pop out of nowhere.

What is your goal for the next few months?  Start saving FOR REAL, and also prioritizing furniture over merch for a while so I can finally fix up my room, which is quickly starting to look and feel like just a warehouse and not very homey at all.

Have you ever had some kind of sleep-disorder? How did it affect your life?  Nope.

Have you ever had food poisoning before? Describe the experience.  Yeah, it was from barbecue that apparently went bad, even though it tasted nothing of the sort. I woke up at 3 AM sweating profusely and with the most excruciating stomachache; I was feeling hot, cold, and nauseous all at the same time, and it probably lasted for like an hour or so.

What are two things that you have no problem paying full price for?  Sealed albums and my pets’ vet expenses.

Funny, charming, cute, romantic, smart - choose only 2 for the opposite sex.  Charming and smart.

Have you ever let somebody use you? Why did you do it?  It felt nice to help people.

You can go back in time & change something in your mom’s past - what is it? Good question; I’ve never encountered this before. I would let her live a more comfortable, privileged life, where she didn’t have to staple her shoes to keep them closed or have to choose between eating at a fast food restaurant or being able to commute back home.

Do you know anybody who is around the exact same size as you? Who? I’m not sure, actually. Everyone’s always slightly taller than me.

Ever been to a haunted house? How scared were you?  I haven’t.

Been on any websites today you wouldn’t want your parents to see?  Tumblr, I guess? My survey blog isn’t for any irls to see.

Which is worse: dusting or mopping?  I don’t really do either often, but I’ll go with mopping.

Would you marry somebody who was intensely religious?  Not for me.

Did you pull a senior prank?  No, that’s not a thing here. Did you graduate?  Yeah, elementary, high school, and college.

Have you ever been unfaithful in a serious relationship?  Nope.

What was the last song you listened to?  It’s a song called Epiphany.

Are you one of those lucky people with 20/20 vision?  Not ever since I was like 9 lol.

Is fashion one of your interests?  I’m way more interested in it now for sure, mostly because the celebrities I’m into these days put a lot of effort when it comes to their style; so it makes me more aware of the trends that come and go, as well.

Do you think you’ll eventually find that special someone?  I’m keeping it as a possibility, but it’s not a priority for me now.

Do you care what people think?  To an extent, I would say. My life doesn’t depend on it, though.

Is acting something you enjoy?  Never been.

What was the last thing you broke/sprained?  Do you mean a thing or a body part? Anyway, I’ll answer both. The last thing I broke was my BTS Mic Drop pen of V looooooooooool the figurine came off the pen :(( It was pretty cheap though so I’m fine with it; I can always get another one. Last body part I sprained was my ankle, when I had a bad fall a couple of years ago.

Have you ever fought with a friend because of their boyfriend/girlfriend? Because of yours?  Either hasn’t happened.

Has a stranger ever yelled at you for your language?  I don’t think so.

Whose house, other than yours and your families', are you most comfortable at?  Angela’s. Also JM’s, just because their family doesn’t hover and that vibe can sometimes be nice whenever I’m at someone else’s place.

Has any of your friends’ family ever yelled at you?  Never.

Did you ever play a sport as a little kid? Did you enjoy it? Not as a very young kid, but I took up table tennis starting when I was 12. Did you ever watch the show Full House?  Nope.

Is there a celebrity you are just DETERMINED to marry?  Now that’s just delusional haha. I’m pretty obsessed with some celebrities, that much I can admit; but thinking of them in the context of marriage is so many steps overboard.

Have you ever burned someone’s picture?  No. I could, but I am scared of fire and will probably just think of other ways to express my anger, like tearing up the photograph. What’s the longest hike you’ve ever been on?  Total length was probably like 3 hours. I haven’t gone too far when it comes to hiking.

Would you ever get a lip tattoo?  Not interested.

Who is the first person of the opposite sex that pops into your head? Hans.

Do your parents smoke cigarettes?  My mom tried it once in her life, I think. My dad has never smoked.

What does one of your T-shirts have written on it?  “Hope right here!”

Name a pet you definitely wouldn’t want.  Anything that’s supposed to roam freely in the wild, like squirrels.

Would you prefer your partner smaller or taller?  Taller, since I’m already quite pint-sized to begin with lol.

Do you enjoy going through old pictures? Sometimes. Other times, it's too painful. It also depends on the era of the pictures. < Agree, especially with the eras. Childhood photos are always fun to look at, but I have had to delete a CHUNK of photos from years ranging from 2014 to 2020 because I’ve lost a handful of friends from that period.

Do you believe people when they say they don’t judge people?  It’s hard to for the most part, but I’ve noticed very few people people really don’t. Most of the time it’s bullshit though.

What did you love the most about the town you grew up in?  That it’s pretty close to the metro.

What’s a movie that you laughed the hardest during?  Hmm, I prefer TV shows if I’m craving comedy.

What’s a movie you cried the hardest during?  Life Is Beautiful.

What’s your favorite restaurant?  Omakase for my sushi fix; School Tteokbokki if I want Korean; Yabu if I’m looking for a generous rice meal.

Is there a dessert you don’t like?  Anything with fruits.

Favorite album?  After Laughter by Paramore.

What’s a book that you read because everyone else was reading it?  I can name authors instead of books – John Green and Haruki Murakami.

Underwater or outer space?  Outer space.

Dogs or cats?  Dogs.

Kittens or puppies?  Puppies.

Bird watching or whale watching?  Whale watching. I don’t get to be in the water as much, so I would jump at the opportunity.

What is your spirit animal?  I dunno if I have one but let’s just go with dog and elephant, I guess? They’re my favorites.

What was your best subject in school?  History.

What was your worst subject in school?  Chemistry.

What is one thing you wish you knew in high school?  Don’t waste your time.

Who is your fashion icon?  Audrey Hepburn.

Diamonds or pearls?  Diamonds.

What color dress did you wear to prom?  For my own prom it was cream-colored/beige. When I went to Mike’s ball, I went with a royal blue gown.

What’s your favorite plot-twist?  I don’t think I’ve found my favorite yet.

Honestly, are you jealous of someone right now?  Not actively.

Honestly, what’s the worst thing you’ve done when you were mad?  I dunno...road rage, maybe?

Honestly, ever made anyone cry when you were mad?  It’s very likely.

Honestly, when was the last time you REALLY cried your heart out?  Sometime in the last week.

Ever pop someone else’s pimple? No thanks.

Do you need to return anyone’s phone call?  Nope.

Who are you closest to?  Angela.

Have you ever had a bad concert experience?  No, all the ones I’ve been to have been amazing experiences.

Are you currently sad about anything?  Not really. I can’t complain.

Have you had any form of exercise today?  Nah.

Can you handle blood?  Nope, I will feel faint if I see it 100%.

Has any place hired you underage for a job?  No.

Have you ever carried a concealed weapon?  I haven’t.

Are you currently searching for a job?  No, I like the one I have.

Does eating breakfast make you sick?  No?

[violetnotez]

SHE IS HERE. PART TWO. BY EXTREMELY POPULAR AND LATE DEMAND!!!!

This fic. THIS FIC RIGHT HERE. HAS BEEN FIGHTING SO HARD I AM DONE THIS HAS BEEN A STRUGGLE. If there are typos I AM SORRY- just msg me and ill fix it if its that bad im just tired!

Kirishima x reader

⤷Genre: Angst, Fluff

⤷Word Count: 9k+ (-this has the weekly prompt for the @bnhabookclub​ discord -“Im fine” :)

⤷ Warnings: slight mentions of blood, cursing, suggested spicyness at the end

⤷ Synopsis: It’s been exactly 3 months since the last time Kirishima saw you, after you had abruptly ended things with him. He’s been trying to forget you, but it’s no use-he’s still madly in love with you, and wishes he could get the truth of why you two ended. What a shocker when he gets a chance to ask his questions-and he learns the truth about your villainous life.

Song Recs: ⤷ “Breakeven”-The Script ⤷ “Lucid Dreams”- Juice WRLD ⤷ “Scars”- Lukas Graham

PART 1

Kirishima looked up at his calendar, a sad sigh escaping his lips. 

That number shouldn’t be such a big deal, that plain black “11” tiny and insignificant next to all the other digits, like little ants stationary on the page.

What it represented, though, was so much more: that day so many weeks ago was so full of heartache and misery, the feeling of being lied to eating at his core for days to come. 

Today, 3 months ago, was the day you confessed to him that you didn’t love him. 

Kirishima has never felt so betrayed and heartbroken in his whole life: you were his first real love after all, and hearing you say your love was a lie destroyed him.

He didn’t know what to do or how to even react to that news: he had felt so numb after, so incredibly empty, it was like he was a walking shell of himself once he left your room.

His friends had tried to cheer him up constantly, always putting in the effort to lift his spirits with laughter and comfort. But the warmth of their attempts of cheering him up didn’t help him at all: he always still felt so cold inside.

It also didn’t help that you had mysteriously left UA the day after the “breakup.” When Kirishima laid his tired puffy eyes on your empty desk the next day, his heart couldn’t help but beat feverishly. He knew he shouldn’t care that you were gone, but he couldn’t help it. No matter which way he spun it, He was still desperately falling for you, even if you had broken his heart. 

He had sat down, his back slumped as he eyed that empty seat with worry. 

How had everything gone so wrong? 

He couldn’t fathom what had gone stray-your love  had honestly felt so real to him. You had told him you had only dated him out of pity-but if somebody was being forced to do something, just to spare someone’s feelings, would they have given him his first kiss so perfectly, making sure to be soft and gentle? Would they have stuck with him late into the night to help study for tests? Or give him sweet kisses on his scars when he was feeling self conscious? 

It just didn’t add up-the feelings you two had were genuine and real. It couldn’t all be one sided like you had said.

He gave another look to that chair, just imagining the ghost of you sitting there, turning around and sending him that infectious smile that light up his whole day.

God, it wasn't even one whole day and he felt so incomplete without you.

Mr. Aizawa walked in, everyone scrambling to their seats and watching him intently, the room getting noticeably more quiet.

He didn’t remember much of that class-he had remembered Mr.Aizawa standing at the front of the class, his deep voice breaking his miserable thoughts when he said the class would be free of one student.

You had seemingly left in the middle of the night, your guardians notifying the school you would no longer be attending UA due to you moving. All of Class 1-A was incredibly confused, including Kirishima- you had never said you were moving, yet you somehow were just gone. As if you never existed.

It just didn’t add up to Kirishima-you would have said something about moving, or at least acted strange the weeks prior. All these events just didn’t make sense to Kirishima-the break up, your confession, you leaving-it all just didn’t add up. But he was too tired, too wrecked inside to think about it anymore. The more he tried to piece the story together the more it gnawed at him, making him feel so much more worse than he already felt. He slumped in his chair, knowing full well everyone was staring at him-you were his boyfriend after all, he should have known.

Oh wait-ex.

He slumped in his chair even more, barely the tips of his spiky red hair poking up from the desk table.

It was gonna be a long few weeks for him, he could already feel it.

Now he was past all those days of crying and breaking over you-some days he could actually forget about you and not have to worry. But on days that were permanently etched into his mind, like today, he couldn’t help but remember. 

Kirishima's phone began to ring, the vibration of the call making the phone jitter against the wood of his desk. He tore himself away from the calendar, his hands instantly swiping to take the call once he saw the Caller ID.

“Hey Fat, how's it going!” Kirishima forced a smile, his voice preppy and bright as if nothing had ever happened.

“Kirishima, thanks for taking the call,” his mentor seemed to breathe a sigh of relief hearing his bright voice on the other end.

Since Kirishima was in his 3rd year, he was required to do another work study, for an even longer period of time than before. So when he was asked by Fatgum to come join the agency once again, he couldn’t help but say no. He had loved his old mentor back from his 1st year, even if he did get pretty banged up at the end of his work study. He was more than happy to join his agency again, and wanted nothing more to learn and grow to be the best hero he could be.

“I know this is pretty late in the day for you,” Fatgum continued, “but I’m going to need your help,”

“Tamaki was supposed to be patrolling on the West side of town tonight, but he got called in to help with a robbery on the North side. I don’t have anybody else to take his place, so I was hoping you could take over his shift for the night,”

“Of course! I’ll do anything you need,” Kirishima propped his phone into the crook of his neck, already rummaging around his room for his hero suit.

“You're a lifesaver Kirishima!” Fatgum exclaimed, the toothy grin he was most likely sporting practically audible.“See ya for training tomorrow then!”

“You too, Fat,” Kirishima's cheerful tone waned, a sad smile replacing his bright grin as he stared down at his hero suit.

He had already known today was going to be a tough day for him, and the fact that he was off from any type of hero work that would make him forget about his sadness didn’t help. 

But now that Fatgum has given him a job tonight, he might be able to erase his mind of all the past heart ache for the next few hours. He gave himself a small smile, his hero suit beckoning him to put it on, the reds and blacks calling to him like ghosts from a dream.

He was gonna at least try to forget-just for the night.

It was now an hour before the end of his shift, and he was feeling practically tired.

The West side of town was relatively quiet, nowhere near the crime riddled areas of the North side of the city boulevard. He knew these streets well from patrolling them almost every night of his hero study, knowing each alleyway and path like the back of his hand. 

Tonight was silent, only a few late night joggers or the occasional fast food joint open for any customers getting the late night munchies. 

It was soft, provincial, and bitter sweet. 

He was trying his best to not remember, to not remember your face, or your smile, or the way you would laugh so warmly whenever he did something amusing. He was trying not to imagine you standing by his side, your hand grabbing his and your shoulder resting  on his, a happy sigh escaping your lips. 

Why were still haunting him, even three months later? 

why couldn’t he just forget about you? 

A crash and a yell snapped Kirishima out of his memory, an angry scream of a teen being heard from the late night restaurant. 

He shook his head to rid himself of those unwanted thoughts, noticing a black figure running across the parking lot into an alleyway at lightning speed.

“That-that Villian!” She shrieked, her friends trying to soothe her as she continued on her rampage, “She stole my wallet! My damn wallet! The hell-“

“Don’t worry ma’am, I’ll get it back for you, don’t worry!” He yelled towards the group, his voice warm and assuring as he sent her a toothy grin. His feet began pounding the pavement, disappearing into the alleyway in the direction of the criminal.

Your breath came out in painful huffs, your hand fumbling to put the wallet into the jacket of your Villian suit. 

Damn Shigaraki and his “plans.”

Shigaraki has now concocted up his next bright idea  for the League, this time relying on you stealing an ID card from a college student that looked similar to you. 

While the LOV was going off stealing a bank for some extra cash, you were told to go find someone who looked similar to you in order to pass as them. for what you had no idea, but you knew Shigaraki would be extremely mad with you if you didn’t do what he asked. You shivered at the thought of him, those cold red eyes like bloody daggers ripping into your flesh. 

You slowed to a stop, your breath coming out in pants as you pulled down the mask on your face, your breath finally free from the constricting fabric.

God you hated running.

Nobody seemed to be following you though, footsteps inaudible to your ears. You slinked into a dark corner of the alleyway, your hands rummaging inside the wallet for the ID card you desperately needed.

Cash, credit card, a picture of her and possibly her boyfriend,a shit ton of gift cards-

You breathed a sigh of relief, flicking out the desired card with a flourish. In the low light conditions you were in, it was hard to see her details, but you knew that it matched your complexion just enough to pass by.

Thank God, now Shigaraki wouldn’t be on your ass-

“Hey, it’s not cool to steal, man,” you heard a familiar voice echo throughout the concrete walls of the alleyway, making your blood run cold.

Shit, please not be him, anybody but him-

You instantly tugged your mask over your mouth and nose, praying to God it wasn’t him.

Maybe it was another hero, or somebody that just resembled him-

“Just give me back what you stole, and nothing bad will happen to ya,” Kirishima continued, his footsteps slow and solemn as he walked over to you, as if you were a wounded animal that could attack at any moment.

You shoved the wallet hastily into your jacket pocket, looking around, desperate for a way out.

Damn it-you were completely blocked from the back, a tall cement wall blocking your escape. The only way for you to get out was to somehow dodge Kirishima and make a run for it, or fight him.

God definitely had his favorites, and it obviously wasn’t you.

This boy was so quiet-all that hero training made him extremely agile, like a cat going forward it’s prey  as he continued to walk towards you cautiously. 

It was a shock to see him-he looked so much older, his handsome face making your heart squeeze painfully. He still sported his iconic red hair to match his suit, the only thing really changing was the amount of scars on his body. When you two had dated, you were so close to him you knew every valley, ditch, and scar on his body like your own.

He was getting stronger and tougher, growing to his goal while you were stuck in your life, still just a little pawn in Shigarakis decaying hands.

You didn’t feel like fighting him-you still felt guilty for the way you had ended things with him, even though it was weeks after. You knew it had to be done in order to protect him, but you also knew it had hurt him to the point of no return.

 He had to have hated you now, and honestly, you didn’t blame him-it just hurt to know you lost a love you still felt. And it was your fault.

Kirishima watched your every move, not suspecting a thing-you were just another thug, another puny Villain he had to take down. Even though it was decent fun to take a criminal down, dealing with witnesses, the police, and paperwork was quite the opposite. But it’d get his mind off of his own misery.

The Villain seemed strange though-as if they were terrified by the mere sight of him. They weren’t even trying to bad mouth him, which was a definite first for him. It was hard to see in the dark alleyway, but he could make out the outline of the thief trying to quickly dodge him, trying to break into a run to get out of the cramped dead end.

Kirishima swiftly grabbed the arm of their leather jacket, pulling your squirming body close to his.

You were screaming internally-he needed to let go, he had to let go. Your heart felt like it was ripping apart, the sudden memories flooding your body as you remembered how it felt to be so close to him, to be so intimate you could see the flecks of brown in his vermillion red eyes. You didn’t want him to realize it was you, to see you as his enemy yet again. You couldn’t bear to see the heartbreak and disappointment in his eyes, your hands clawing to get away.

“Hey-just calm down a little-“ he huffed out, the words separated as he tried to keep a hold on your body.

It was strange to him though-you weren’t even talking, not a peep was spilling out of your lips. You seemed pretty young, and by your smaller frame, you were most likely female. You seemed 

so scared, your eyes bright with desperation and fright. 

His larger hands kept you close to him, his heart pinging with hurt-

There was no way this was you. He was going crazy-those weren’t your eyes.

But God, they looked so familiar-your eyes looked exactly like that the day you two broke up. Full of fear and sadness and guilt-

This wasn’t you, this couldn’t be you, but-if it was-

With one hand firmly wrapped your waist and another shakily reaching toward your mask, your body fighting desperately to get him to stop. Even through your attempts, he pulled the material gently off your skin, The flimsy black mask falling to the ground pitifully. your face looking down at the ground with embarrassment, now knowing your cover was blown.

Kirishima's heart beat painfully-it was you, this was you.

What had happened?

“Y-y/n?” He stuttered out, his voice caught pitifully in his throat.

You swallowed thickly, trying to shove the dry ball of embarrassment down your throat.

“H-hi Kiri,” 

He quickly let go of you, his body blocking your exit as he stared at you in disbelief.

You looked so different, so unlike you-you were wearing a completely black outfit, the material shiny like wet rocks near a dark river. Your hair was pulled back painfully tight, your eyes looking down at your scuffed combat boots in despair.

You looked so defeated and so sad, as if there was no happiness left in your body.

Who even were you?

“What happened to you? Why are stealing? Where have you even been?” He bombarded you with questions, his voice getting more and more authoritative and desperate as questions flooded his mind.

You couldn’t even think to comprehend an answer to any of them-you just needed to forget this encounter ever happened. For your and Kirishima’s sanity and, most importantly, safety.

“Just let me go Kirishima,” you dodged his question, taking a step forward to push your way out of the alleyway.

Kirishima's body was bigger and stronger though, and with each shuffle you attempted he would close the gap between you two, blocking your escape solely with his body.

“No, I-I need answers y/n,” he replied. His voice sounded so hurt, so full of anguished you felt your heart break a little more. He was still hurting, and now he was confused, seeing you all dressed up and committing crimes like a low level Villian. 

“I need to know what happened to you.”

You faulted in your step, staring at Kirishima with wide, mournful eyes. You made yet another attempt to surpass him, your shoulder a mere centimeters away from his as you tried to walk past him.

“Nothing happened Kirishima, please just let me-“

If you thought you were going to leave that easily, you were crazy. 

He swiftly grabbed your arm, his calloused hands rough against the leather of your jacket. Even through the thick material you could feel how warm he was-he always radiated such heat and brightness.

“Why did you leave UA?” He was abrupt with his question, but the hint of softness faltered his harsh exterior-he was still worried for you.

A deep sigh cascaded from your lips, your brow starting to sweat. You were tired of dealing with this heavy burden, this spider web of lies you had created for your own self. You still loved Kiri, yes, but your relationship was over and done. There was really no fear of judgement anymore. Hell, he just saw you steal a wallet like a low level thug-how much more could he judge you in this moment?

“You want the truth Kiri?” Your voice was blunt, and monotone, a shield from your true emotions. 

“You want to know who I really am? I-I’m a Villian. I work for the LOV. I only went to UA because I had to listen to Shigaraki. He needed info and I was the only one to do it.”

You sneaked a peek at Kirishima's face, a slight grimace on your lips as you anticipated the look of disgust on his face. Your heart thumped painfully, waiting for him to look at you with revulsion, but-it never came. His bright vermillion eyes still stared down at you softly, his eyes coated with worry and sympathy. 

“So-you were being forced?”

“At first I wanted to do it-b-but after I while, I started to change my mind,” 

he was so warm, his body heat seeping into your cold skin like a fire on a winter's night. Even now, in this dark alley, exactly 3 months from your terrible breakup-he still could make you feel safe. He was your home in the snow storm, so warm and comforting when the rest of the world was so unforgiving and icy. You relished the feeling of his calloused palms on your body, wishing those hands were on your skin instead of your jacket so they could  slowly  warm your whole body with their wonderful  heat.

“Then why did you leave?”

You gulped, licking your lips tentatively. Did you really want to tell him the truth? Tell him how weak you truly were? You honestly didn’t, a part of you screaming to just feed him a lie that would satiate you both-but the thought of living with even more of a guilty conscience made your mouth go dry. He didn't deserve another lie-after all you did to him, Kirishima deserved the truth. 

“I-I didn’t want to get hurt. I didn’t want you to get hurt. If Shigaraki found out I was considering leaving the LOV, he would have done anything in his power to keep me.”

“You don’t know the League like I do. When I mean he would do anything-he would do anything-including killing.”

Kirishima's eyes momentarily widened, the brutal words cutting the air like a knife. It didn’t surprise him, though-he was a hero in training after all. He had been in too many dangerous run ins with villians-hell, he couldn’t even count how many times he could have died just in his first year at UA. Death was a recurring threat in Kirishima's life, and , for better or worse, it didn’t scare him as much as it used to.

“Kiri-I-I lied to you to keep you safe. You meant the world to me-You still do. I still think about you all the time, and I know you probably hate me, but I still love you. I never stopped.”

He watched your eyes turn down in shame, your head hanging low as if you were carrying a great burden. It was painstakingly obvious you were feeling guilty and remorseful, and his heart throbbed at the thought that of you being forced to continue on with this life. We all made dumb mistakes when we were younger-you shouldn’t have to keep the burden of your past decisions still. 

As much as he felt sympathy for you, he couldn't help but feel so happy that you still had feelings for him. No matter how he spun it, he still cared for you and loved you with all his heart-hearing The same thoughts come from you just made him fall for you even more.

He gingerly took your chin in his hands, his calloused digits lifting your sullen head in order for him to look at you fully. Even when you looked so downtrodden, you were absolutely beautiful to him, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“God, take the words right out of mouth, huh?”

Kirishima's heartbeat feverishly in his chest-what he was about to do was so incredibly risky, but he had to do it. Too many nights he spent dreaming and remembering you, the memories bitter sweet. Now that he had you in front of him, he was going to take any chance he could go get those sensations back in his life.

Kirishima placed his lips gently on yours, knocking the wind out of your lungs. You couldn’t breathe-it was like you were drowning on his essence-yet you couldn’t careless. Warmth filled your stomach, fueling all over your body like a hot flame. It was so comforting and surreal to be feeling this again, to have Kirishima's hot lips pressed against yours.

He parted from you, both of you buzzing with electricity. It was surprising how much truth that kiss held-it melted the cocoon you two had around your hearts, allowing you two to see how much you had truly missed each other.

“ Y/n, I miss you, I knew that night you said you didn’t love me, something wasn’t right,” he spoke, his breath fanning your lips gently. “I knew there was more than what you were letting on.”

Kirishima grabbed your arms suddenly, looking you square in the face with intense eyes.

“ Y/n, you should have left then and there! We would have protected you! I would have protected! I promise I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you-“

“Y/n, you need to leave them, please,”

You sighed, hating how quickly the air thickened with the remembrance of your current situation. 

“Kiri, I don’t want anybody to potentially get hurt because of my dumbass decisions, I’m fine, I can handle myself-“

“Y/n, no your not fine! Look at you-,”he motioned to your clothing and your sullen face, “this isn’t you at all! 

“Kiri, please, don’t give me false hope-“ you shoved him off, wrapping your arms around your body to protect yourself. If you didn’t get control of yourself, you would follow his words in a heartbeat. As much as you would love to run into the strong arms of Kirishima, for him to warm your numb body with his positive energy- you knew it was dangerous. You didn’t want anybody to get hurt over you.

“It isn’t false hope though….” He smiled sweetly at you, his hand stretched out to you, “please, just take my hand, Kay? Nothing bad will happen, I promise,”

You stared at him long and hard, your eyes wide with fear and uncertainty-he was so genuine, so warm, so forgiving. He wanted to help you, he was willing and ready. He wanted to fight the world with you by his side, to protect the people he needed to protect with his loving energy. Kirishima had a way of making you believe anything that came out of his mouth, and you were falling for his spell. You didn’t know if it was the shock from seeing him after so long, his kiss, or just from wanting to leave so badly, but you stretched out your hand, ready for him to take you away.

a cruel, scraggly voice boomed from the shadows, “He promises to keep his little love bird safe.”

“How touching.”

You two spun your heads around at the sound of the ominous voice, your blood running cold.

“Shigaraki,” you gasped out, your eyes glued onto your leader. 

He was smiling a sick grin, his expression sadistic and cruel as he stood in a few paces away from you two. He was clothed in his Villain suit, his clothes tattered and dark like the Grim Reaper himself.

 Spinner and Twice were standing close by, surveying the scene from above as Shigaraki sauntered to you two. Kirishima's expression instantly turned from softness to determination, his body instantly turning to shield yours.

“Oh no need to act so heroic hero,” he grinned, his tone sickeningly sweet life cough syrup.

“Just give us our comrade and we’ll be on our way.”

“You're not going anywhere with her!” Kirishima yelled, his quirk activating in his arm as he shielded you from Shigaraki. “She doesn’t want to be with you scumbags anymore!”

“I’d watch your tone if I were you, especially for trying to defend a spineless traitor like her.”

Kirishima's face turned red in anger, his whole body now turning as solid as a rock as he charged your former leader.

“You piece of-“ 

Shigaraki continued the sick grin plastered on his face as Spinner and Twice instantly jumped from their positions, grabbing Kirishima's arms and roughly slamming him into the nearby wall. You heard the air forces out of Kirishima's lungs, his face contorted in pain. Your heart felt as if it was getting stabbed as you watched Kirishima struggle against their holds.

“Kirishima!” You screamed, your body yelling at you to help him-but you knew you couldn’t take on those two by yourself, not even including Shigaraki.

You turned to the villainous man in front of you, your eyes pleading.

“Shigaraki, please, tell them to let him go-let him go!”

He took a step toward you, his footsteps ringing slowly like the ticks of an old clock.

“Oh, I will,” he replied, his voice low and sadistic, “-when you rejoin the League.

“ I’d kill you right now for being such a selfish brat if I didn’t need you-so take it as a gift. I’ll spare your life if you just come-“

“Never,” you spat at him, fear filling your stomach with your defiance. You were surprised to hear how steady your voice was, but the slight Tremble in your fists said otherwise.

“Fine then,” he smirked, “suit yourself-“

With a wave of his decaying hands, Spinner and Twice began to use their full force on Kirishima-punching, kicking, anything to torture him. He was trying his best to block them, even with his quirk-but they were quite strong, especially once Twice used his quirk to produce more of his own body. It quickly began evident that Kirishima was having a hard time to fight off the villains, his Stance slowly becoming weaker and weaker as his face began to bruise and his arm dusted with his own blood.

You were hopeless to just watch, watching your worst fear come to life-people we’re already getting hurt over you.

Anger filled your stomach, licking up your body like hot flames as you turned to charge Shigaraki, fire in your eyes.

“Stop it you crusty ass-“ you yelled out, your fists out as you tried to land a punch on the Villian.

He seemed to know your exact movements though, his hands harshly grabbing your wrists and mouth, colliding your body with his.

“I’d watch that mouth of yours if I were you, unless you want it to disintegrate-along with the rest of you-“

Shit.

You had momentarily forgotten about Shigaraki’s dangerous quirk-one wrong move and you could be a heap on the ground, nothing more. The fingers around your mouth were delicate, knowing full well you wouldn’t try and escape. They drummed playfully against your mouth, as if taunting you to do something foolish. You felt how cold he was, the feeling of his chapped skin on yours disgusting as he toyed with your life in his hands. 

It was all a game for him-and he was winning.

“Look at him-“ Shigaraki ordered, the grip around your mouth suddenly tightening as he twisted your head to face Kirishima's misery.  

“You caused this, y/n. All this pain, all this suffering. If you leave, he will be the first we target. Well slowly go after each and every person you have ever loved, until we finally come for you.”

“Now, you don’t want that, do you?”  He asked, his face tilting in order to see your answer. You forced yourself to not look at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing the small tears running down your cheeks. 

All you could muster was a small shake of your head, the vibration of your movement going through Shigarakis finger tips.

Through the fists and clones he was trying to fight off, Kirishima could see you shaking your head, Shigaraki looking practically happy by your answer. A sinking feeling filled Kirishima's stomach as he saw your body language slouch in defeat. He Tried to call at you, to stop you from agreeing to whatever was coming out of Shigarakis lying lips, but at that moment one of the clones landed a solid punch to his stomach. Kirishima felt all the air leave out of his lungs , his knees wobbling and hitting the floor as his head spun from the pain.

Shigaraki still had his hold on you, watching how your face crumpled as you watched Kirishima fall and unable to help.

“Good, now, will you come and rejoin?” He asked one last time, motioning for his comrades to move away from Kirishima and back to their spot on the roof of the alleyway.

He knew now he had you under his finger, knowing the show he had just made you watched instilled enough fear for you to never leave his team again. He watched your eyes cower to give one last look at Kirishima's crumpled body, your shoulders tense with stress.

“I-I’ll rejoin the League,” you whispered out, feeling the hold Shigaraki had on you loosen. 

It was tearing you up inside to see Kirishima so bruised and hurt on the ground-you focused on the signs of him breathing, his broad chest rising and falling as he struggled to push himself back up. That small evidence gave you courage, your heart racing as you will yourself to continue with the plan you had secretly been concocting this whole time.

You grunted, a sly smirk erupting on your face.

“After I do this-“

You swiftly grabbed Shigarakis arm, twisting it in an excruciating position behind his back. He yelled out in pain, a string of curses filling the night as you rammed your fist into his chest, sending the air out of his lungs. He stumbled dramatically, dry coughs spewing out of his lungs as his knees hit the floor. 

“You no longer have power over me-none of you do,” you stood defiantly in that alleyway, watching your ex comrades stare at you in shock and awe. In all your time with the LOV, you had never defied them. Not once. You were always so obedient, which was why Shigaraki loved to have you around as a n asset to his team-you were so easy to keep around his finger. 

But now you were clearly being rebellious, your stony face telling the whole group you had changed-you didn’t give a damn about their threats and their rules anymore. You wouldn’t be coming back.

A burst of fear and extreme annoyance flooded Shigarakis' system, the pain of your kick aiding fuel to the flame. He growled, a curse directed at you dribbling from his lips as his thin legs wobbled his body weight up. His mouth opened to send you another string of curses, ready to unleash his full wrath on you for embarrassing him so much, until a characteristic siren filled the night air.

Kirishima propped himself onto his knees, a tried grin gracing his bruising lips.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you-“

His hand lifted, showing the whole group a small contraption in his hand. In the darkness of the alleyway it was hard to tell what it was, but it seemed Kirishima was holding a phone, a route to your location lighting up the screen.

“My mentor gave all us heroes-in-training a tracker, just in case we get into any trouble. While you were blabbering on about plans, I sent the heroes our location.”

Kirishima smiled triumphantly at the fearful faces of Shigaraki’s comrades, Shigarakis own fave contorted in rage. 

The sirens were slowly getting louder, the colors of blue and red dancing lightly against the stony walls of the alley way.

“So unless you wanna get caught by the heroes,” he added in, his tone surprisingly friendly, “ I suggest you go.”

Shigaraki seemed waver, trying to see if he could still get you back under the terrible circumstances. But the cops were practically here, the sounds of car doors slamming being heard. He had to admit it to himself-he lost this battle. He gave you one last scornful look, his bloody irises sending a shiver down your spine as he took off with his comrades, not leaving a trace.

You could already hear the police officers stepping out of their cars, fear flooding your stomach. Even though you had just defied the League, you were still a criminal. You had been doing illegal activities for months now-hell, you just stole a girls wallet 15 minutes ago and it was still in your damn pocket.

Even though a part of you was screaming for you to run as well, you fought off that flight response in order to help Kirishima off the floor.

His skin still feels warm, your hands making sure not to touch the tender parts of his skin from his fight. Even though he was smiling, you could tell he was in some pain. Your worst fear was already being realized-he got hurt over you. For you. You could never repay him for that, the guilt seeping into your core. 

“Kiri are you okay? Please tell me you are,” you pushed out, the tone of your voice desperate and pleading. “I’m so sorry-“

Kirishima looked up, his vermillion eyes as bright as ever as he caresses your cheek, sweeping the single tear off your face.

 “For what? You did nothing wrong y/n, you don’t have to be so sad over me-this is my job after all!” He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood as you began to help him stand up. He was slightly wobbly on his feet but seemed to be doing just fine. 

He gave you a small smile, a hint of worry in his eyes as he heard footsteps coming behind him.

“Just-let me do the talking, Kay?” He waited for you to give him a nod, his hands giving yours a gentle squeeze.

“Do you still have the wallet you stole?”

“The-? Oh, yeah, I do,” you stated quickly, the wallet resurfacing in your mind as you rummaged in your jacket, pulling it out and shoving it into his hand.

“Thanks,” he smiled at you, his cheeks warm as he faltered for the smallest second. 

It was evident he wanted to lean in and kiss you-the way he stared at your lips was quite evident and brought a blush to your cheeks. 

But Kirishima was still on duty, and couldn’t be so openly romantic when he was in his hero suit as well being approached by law enforcement. He instead opted to kiss your cheek, the smooth skin of his lips warming your whole body as he walked over to greet the police officer. 

Kirishima has spoke to the police officer for quite a while, a few others watching close behind as they surveyed you. You felt strange, standing there so alone as you watched Kirishima talk to the officer so warmly. 

You didn’t know what he was saying, or what he was doing, but you were hoping he was somehow sweet talking the officers. You watched him point to you at one point, his warm smile assuring your terrified face as the officer looked you up and down tentatively.

He motioned you to come over, as if trying to get a frightened animal to come near him. You followed his command, your steps hesitant as you approached the two men.

The officer face was hardened until he saw the look of terror on your face, his expression softening slightly.

“This is her?” He asked gruffly, turning to Kirishima.

“Yes,” he nodded his head in confirmation. “The LOV have been brainwashing her for their plans-she has intel the heroes could use to our advantage. Fat Gum’s agency needs her straight away in order to get that info from her. I promise we will get her in the system and any other information you may need on file.”

The officer gave you two a long look, sighing as he scratched his chin.

“Alright,” he complied, a huge smile erupting on Kirishimas face. “You two need a ride? You look pretty messed up.”

Kirishima gave a small chuckle, scratching the back of his head. “Uh-yeah, THAT'D be pretty nice actually-“

After the small car ride to Fat Gum’s agency, you had helped Kirishima out of the car and to Fat Gum’s office at the top floor. It seemed like someone had already alerted Fat Gum to Kirishima's arrival, because you two were instantly met by the pro hero with worried eyes once you reached his office.

“God Kirishima you had me so worried for a second!” He yelled, striding over to the bruised hero, “that receptionist really made it sound like you were in need of medical attention or something-“

“I’m fine Fat, you don’t gotta worry about me!” Kirishima said good naturedly, his perfect teeth glistening in the fluorescent lights. “I actually have some things I need your help with-“

“You definitely do if you're bringing a civilian into the office,” FatGum stared down at you with a warm smile, your heart beating guiltily. It was strange to see the hero in normal clothing in not in his larger form, his stature so much smaller it seemed from his usually large frame.

“The names Fat, but you can call me Taishiro!” He held out his hand in front of you, his bright personality radiating off of him, “and you are-“

“I-I’m y/n, sir,” you said hesitantly, taking your smaller hand in his. He was just as warm as Kirishima, like a bright ball of sun. 

No wonder Kirishima interned with Fatgum-he was just like him. Bright, fun, kind. Everything you so dearly craved for in your life, but couldn't quite grasp.

“I’m sorry, I’m not a civilian-I’m a criminal, a Villian,” you muttered sadly, your head hanging low, “well, I was-“

Fat Gum gave Kirishima a confused look, his happy exterior dropping slightly. 

“She was being forced to be a Villain by Shigaraki,” Kirishima quickly stepped forward, his tone serious as he defended you. “She wanted to leave the LOV, but they were threatening her.

“She didn’t do anything wrong-she just wanted to protect herself and the people around her.”

Fat Gum scratched the side of his cheek, his eyes lost in thought.

“Well Thats a strange situation to be in-I’m assuming you two know each other?”

You looked at Kirishima, red blossoming your cheeks just like his. 

Maybe it wasn’t the best time to tell his mentor that you had dramatically broke up with Kirishima over 3 months ago.

“We uh-“ Kirishima started, his voice wavering in uncertainty.

“We were classmates,” you chided in quickly, “I went to UA along with Kirishima, but the LOV forced me to leave the school.”

Fat Gum nodded his head, a sigh escaping his lips. “So-you’ve been working as a Villain, but against your will?”

You nodded your head, your breath caught in your throat as you awaited for the hero's reaction to this news of your true identity.

“This will get a little fuzzy legal wise, especially if people are looking for you-some may not trust what you say, even if you left the League and do everything in your power to change their minds.”

“Don’t worry though, I believe you,” the hero placed his hand in your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I believe Red Riot full heartedly in his perception of others and I’m pretty good at reading people too. I can tell youre not what the League tried to make you into.”

He sent you a warm grin, making you feel safe for what had felt like a long time.

“Would you be willing to answer questions about the League? about how they operate, how large they are, their plans-“

“Yes, anything to end them and help the heroes,” you answered quickly, your tone set in determination, “I’d be willing to do all of it.”

“Well that settles it!” Fat Gum said happily, the smile back on his face. “Tomorrow we’ll start talking to you about your experience with the League-but you two seem to need a well deserved nap.”

“Why don’t you keep her in your apartment Kirishima?” FatGum turned to the hero, Kirishimas dusted in pink by the proposition. “Shell feel

a little more comfortable since you're someone she knows, and she’s also close to the agency.”

Fat Gum gave you a soft smile, his eyes filled with reassurance. “Heroes will be around all day and all night, so nobody can come in and out.”

It surprised you how intuitive the hero was-he knew exactly how you were feeling. 

Even though you knew it was foolish, you still felt that somehow the League would find you and try to bring you back. You had clearly defied them, and it scared you that they be trying to get their revenge. 

But Fatgums charming smile was so reassuring and welcoming, you couldn’t give him a small smile back.

“I think I can manage that arrangement.”

“Good then,” he gave you two one last smile, ushering you two out the door, “make sure to get some rest-tomorrow will definitely be a long day. Make sure those injuries are doing well too, alright?”

You both gave the hero a curt response, turning your backs from the now closed doors.

Kirishima's heart began to beat intensely, his stomach filling with butterflies.

You had agreed to stay in his room? God, if someone had told him a few hours ago you’d be staying the night with him, he’d wouldn’t believe it for a second. But now this was happening, and he couldn’t be more ecstatic or nervous.

He stared at your profile, not missing the dusting of red on your cheeks-you were nervous too? It made him feel a little better inside, a small smile gracing his lips as he stretched out his hand.

“You ready?”

You looked down at the outstretched sha s in front of you, taking his palm in yours tentatively.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” 

He lead you through the agency, taking an elevator a few levels down in order to get to the apartments specifically for the heroes in training.

It was a short trip, but the fatigue that wa a beginning to hit your body was making it feel so much longer. The adrenaline rush you had felt all night was wearing off, your eyes fluttering as you will yourself to stay awake.

Kirishima noticed your sleepy state, a small chuckle escaping from his chest.

“You feeling tired?”

“Just-a little,” you yawned out, wrapping your hands around your body.

“Don’t worry-were almost at my place,” he gave you a sweet smile, his hands outstretched for yours as the elevator door opened. You took it gratefully, letting him lead you to his door as he opened it with ease.

You stepped inside, adjusting from the darkness as you took in the sight in front of you.

The room smelled of him-the warm and musky scent ofhis cologne lingering in the air. It was almost teasing you with its memories, a wave of comfort washing over you as you recalled all the times you buried your nose into his neck and smelled his scent. 

His room was pretty neat, surprisingly, his desk organized and his walls decorated with a few posters. You recognized some from his old room at UA-a Crimson Riot, his favorite band, and even a calendar he used to use frequently.

Some areas of his room signaled the busy life of his work stidy, his unmade bed strewn with clothing he had hastily ripped off, a small pile of clothes in a pile and his laptop charging in a corner of the room.

Kirishima cursed himself as he looked around the room, painstakingly noticing every little detail and mess, hating how he hadn’t cleaned up his room that day.

“Sorry for the mess, I didn’t expect to have anyone,” he chuckled nervously, already going around and picking up his things.

“It’s fine-I like it,” 

You were speaking the truth when you said it-you liked how it was so him, showing a glimpse into his daily life. It was warm and comforting, even residential, to see him in his day to day life.

“You do?”

You hummed a “yes”, feeling your heart beat fast when Kirishima closed the gap between you two, his palms gently grasping your arms. He breathed in a deep sigh, holding you close.

“God, you don’t know how much I missed you,” he sighed out breathlessly.

“I missed you too Kiri,” you looked down, old guilt resurfacing inside you, “I’m still sorry for being so-so mean to you-I should have just told you the truth, I shouldn't have lied-“

Kirishima smiled softly, lifting your chin with his finger.

“Don’t worry about that! That was in the past-now it’s just you and me, kay? You don’t have to worry about any of that, now”

He gave you a long look, sorry buried in his brows as you ran his fingers along your skin, feeling the bags under your eyes. You inhaled a deep breath, loving the electricity Kirishima set into your skin just from his touch.

“You really are tired, huh?” He asked quietly, his voice husky from exhaustion himself.

“And you're not?” You gave him a quirky smile, making him blush with a chuckle.

“Well, I didn’t say that,” he gave you a small grin, his hands returning back to their spots on your arms.

“Do you wanna sleep? You can take the bed if you want-I know it’s not made, but I can sleep on the couch if you’d like-“

“I want to sleep with you,” you replied softly, your eyes widening once you realized what you had just said.

You wanted to sleep with him? God, you sounded so perverted! 

“I-I mean I want to go to bed with you-I didnt mean-I just didn’t want to make you sleep somewhere else, since this your room-“

Kirishima's face was incredibly red, but the smile was still plastered on his face.

“Oh it’s alright, I really don’t mind either way.“

He pulled himself away from you gently, as he began searching through his dresser for some clothes.

“So-bed together?”

“Yup!” You replied back, popping the p as You sat on the unmade bed, your fingers dragging against the plus fabric as Kirishima turned around, sitting in front of you as he handed you one of his shirts.

“I know you don’t have any pajamas, so you can wear one of my shirts until we get you some clothes.”

“Mm, sounds good,” you smiled tenderly, loving how close he was as you ran your hands through his hair.

He sighed into your touch as he nuzzled into your skin, his breath warm against your skin.

He sat there for a few moments, finally rising sluggish and slow.

“Gotta move-or I’ll fall asleep right there,” he chuckled, walking over to the front of his closet. He began to take off the pieces of his hero suit, the large gears on his arms hitting the floor with a thud.

You admired how broad his shoulders were, the way his muscles rippled so evidently as he moved his bones to his will. He was so perfectly built, you could t help but drool at the firmness of his skin.

“Having fun over there?,” he turned around, a shit eating grin plastered on his face as he undid the belt around his waist.

“Just a little,” you gave him a small grin, hear flooding your face as you held the shirt close to your chest.

“You can go change in the bathroom if you’d like-you don’t have to stay out here if you’re not comfortable,” 

“And what if I am?” 

You laughed at the clearly evident blush on his cheeks, his face trying to hide the rush of embarrassment.

“Your a handful,” he chuckled, his hand running through his hair nervously.

He knew you were joking, and you two had only sorta, maybe gotten back together lass than an hour ago-but damn if he wasn’t nervous and excited by you being so flirtatious-in his room. 

For the rest of the night. 

You gave him one last smile before you disappeared into the bathroom, your hands closing the door gently.

God, it felt so nice to be in his arms again, to feel safe and warm. You had missed the fluttering feeling Kirishima gave you, like you could fly away  at any moment and you could care less. You brought your nose to the cloth of the worn shirt, the powerful smell of his detergent and cologne washing over you. It was so comforting, a nostalgic feeling filling your body as you remembered how much you missed his scent. 

You quickly stripped of your clothes, happy to be free of the uncomfortable garments finally. Since Kirishima didn’t hand you any shorts to wear, you decided to only wear the shirt he had given you over your underwear. The softness of the shirt felt so relaxing against your tired skin, almost like getting a hug from the boy himself. You smiled a deep sigh, happy to see that the shirt was long enough to at least cover your underwear from plan view and you splashed your face with some cold water, rinsing away all the fears from tonight.

You would have a long day tomorrow answering questions about the League-you could at least give yourself tonight to forget and be worry free.

Kirishima was hastily changing before you came out of the bathroom, dreading the idea of you seeing him half naked as he swapped out of his hero suit. He opted to wear something comfortable, grey sweatpants and an old black tshirt, his body running frantically to clean his room. Now that he got the chance to properly clean his room, he was a mad man trying to make it to his liking. He shoved clothes into his closet, made his bed, even hiding cords under his bed. 

If you were going to be in his room, he was at least going to give off some impression of him being neat.

He was now laying on his newly made bed, his hands occupied with checking his phone as he heard the bathroom door opening, your footsteps soft on the carpet of his room.

He looked up, a question about to fall from his lips until his mind went completely blank at the sight of you.

There you were, standing in his room, looking as beautiful as ever wearing his shirt and nothing else. He couldn't help but stare at your legs, worshipping the curves as his mouth was agape from awe.

He didn’t fully prepare himself at the sight of you in his clothes, but god did you wear them so perfectly-

“You okay Kiri?” You gave a nervous laugh, striding over to the bed, settling your knees on the plush comforter.

The shirt road up from the movement t, showing more of those pretty thighs of yours that made him practically drool.

“Ne-never been better!” He tried to compose himself, his voice rising slightly.

God, he needed to get ahold of himself.

“You look pretty comfy,” he gave a small comment on your outfit, loving how bashful you look at the comment.

“Of course I am,” you replied back, crawling over to his side of the bed. He gulped at the sight of you coming so close to him, “I’m in your clothes after all.”

You sat your body next to Kirishima, your hand finding his as your other lightly rested on his stomach. 

“You know, I’ve always thought you looked good in anything,” he smiled, his eyes dark like wine, “but you wearing my clothes-you looked best in that,” 

“Really?” You gave the boy a shit eating grin, knowing full well you were playing a dangerous game now.

This night could end in two different scenarios: one could complicate things, and one could really complicate things.

You’d take the latter, if he was willing.

You shifted your body around him, straddling his waist as his shirt rode up, exposing your thighs even more.

“And what about when they're not on?”

Kirishima's heart beat at an insane pace in his chest-was this wrong to do? He didn’t know and frankly, he didn’t care at that moment.

He returned the smile, his hands traveling underneath the soft shirt.

“Even better.”

Tagging (anyone who commented or asked for a part 2- I tried to get everyone!):

@cellotonin​ @bakugous-forehead​ @lgbtonystarks​ @marrypuffsstuff​ @lady-bakuhoe​ @kurinhimenezu​ @hipster-merchant-of-death​ @hot-pocket01​ @bubblegum-bee-otch​ @kai-charm​

[snusbandxknifewife]

College Theater AU

Hey guys! I’m back with the first chapter of a new fic. It’s small and mostly setup, but I promise it’ll get more involved in later chapters. Hope y’all like!

~~~~~

Chapter 1

“How goes your bio homework?” Jude’s best friend, Liliver, asks as she looks up from her assortment of turn-of-the-twentieth-century magazines.

Jude snorts, turning her computer to expose the fact that she has four different Chegg webpages pulled open. It’s only a week into sophomore year and the general education courses required of her were already kicking her ass.

“Why aren’t you doing your homework? I thought you had calc three this year,” she muses unhappily, going back to Chegg’s description of plant cells and cursing the fact she wasn’t in upper division yet. She wanted to do finance, not biology.

“I’m getting ideas for Katherine’s costumes,” she smiles, running her fingers over the delicate pages of the antique magazines. “I want to be ready when I get given my budget.”

“Don’t you need to know who’s playing Katherine before you start planning her costumes?” Jude raises a brow.

Liliver sends her a you’ve got to be kidding me look. “You’ll be Katherine, you dolt. You’ve been the lead girl in every musical you’ve tried out for.”

Jude tried to hide her self-satisfied smirk, but she knows Liliver isn’t wrong. She’s always been involved in performing arts, ever since she and her twin, Taryn, were adopted by her half-sister’s father.

Her adoptive father, Madoc, had a love of discipline and success drilled into him during his early days as a marine. It’s something he’d worked very hard to pass on to his children. Jude was the only one who really took his insistence to heart.

She’d been in dance class since her adoption. She started pointe in ballet and heels in tap a year before all her peers. She started taking voice lessons when she was eleven and she was the first person to try out for her high school’s production of Little Shop of Horrors, where she’d scored the roll of Audrey.

Now in college, Jude is the head of the the theater club. Her freshman year, she’d met Liliver—who went by the Bomb, due to her insistence on making costumes as complex as explosives—and the two had become fast friends. Bomb loved theater because she loved costuming, and she loved having money to sew stuff outside of her costume design classes.

“Have you found where you’re going to buy the newsboy caps?” Jude asks, steadfastly ignoring her homework for as long as possible.

Insmire College’s College Players had voted last semester and decided, almost universally, to perform Newsies for the fall semester. Jude was super excited, because she absolutely adored the story, but Bomb was kind of upset. She said that the costumes were all far too similar for her to really shine.

“I’ve been trolling Etsy and EBay,” she says as she flips the page of one of her magazines—bought from one of the local antique stores. “I’m more concerned about the jazz and tap shoes we’ll have to buy.”

“Not everyone will need new ones.”

“How many people do you know with tap shoes that look like Edwardian boots?” Liliver fixes her with a tired look and she just raises both hands in surrender.

“Well we’ll just have to see,” Jude shrugs. “I’ve talked to the dance team captain and the instructors for the dance classes at the gym. Maybe they’ll convince some students to try out.”

The issue with doing theater at a small college like Insmire is it’s difficult getting people to actually try out. Especially guys. And, given that the entire show is about newsboys, it’ll be problematic if only girls go out. While everyone involved knows Jude will be the main girl, nobody knows who is going to be playing Jack.

“Maybe we can convince Ghost to go out,” Bomb offers.

Both girls share a look before bursting out into cackling laughter that fills their shared dorm room. Ghost, their stage manager and good friend, is called Ghost because he is famous for hating being seen.

“Roach wants to be Davey,” Bomb says, trying and failing to keep her voice disinterested.

“Are you two a thing yet?” Jude calls her out, grinning as her friend hides her face behind a magazine and groans in embarrassment.

Liliver tries to ignore her and go back to her costume research, but more gentle ribbing eventually gets her to admit that they texted a lot over the summer break, but they aren’t official.

“He said we’re both invited to the Pike party after recruitment week.”

“I can’t believe your boyfriend’s in fucking Pike.” Jude can’t hide her disgust. Of all the people to be in Greek life, especially such a seedy fraternity. Although Roach did get his name from his weed dealing connections, so maybe they just use him for drugs.

She can respect the hustle, getting rich off of selling bad weed to entitled trust fund boys.

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

“Yet,” she snorts.

Liliver makes a face, sticking out her tongue.

Jude rolls her eyes and goes back to her biology homework, having officially reached the point where she’s just ready to plagiarize everything and call it a fucking day.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Bomb asks and Jude has to stop herself from vomiting.

She and Bomb met when they became randomly assigned roommates freshman year. Originally, Jude had planned on rooming with her twin sister, but that all changed at the end of senior year, when Jude found out—on Valentine’s Day—that her boyfriend, Locke, was cheating on her. With Taryn. She swore off guys then and there, saying she’d just focus on her schooling and find a boyfriend later.

“No, and I don’t want one,” she announces with a frown. “Too much work and not worth the payout.”

Bomb purses her lips and fixes Jude with a look that Jude dutifully ignores. She’s not in the mood to get into her dislike of guys right now, not when biology was already putting her in a sour mood.

Her phone buzzes and Jude looks down to find a canvas message from their faculty advisor and director, asking her to confirm the tryout dates and making sure that she’ll be there to help him keep track of all the paperwork.

She responds quickly, saying she’ll make sure that she and Bomb are both there, Ghost might even be able to make it for the Friday tryout date.

They have tabling for the next three days for the Insmire club fair, then they have two more weeks to get the word out about tryouts. Fall semester tryouts are always the worst, because it’s difficult to get freshman to come to club meetings in the first week or so of college, but Jude is hopeful this year.

Tryouts are the first week of September. She’s got so much work to do before then, but she’s excited. She has way too much to focus on, she doesn’t need to worry about her sister or her ex, and she certainly doesn’t need to worry about finding a new guy.

She’ll be just fine.

~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @hizqueen4life @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @thewickedkings @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @cheekycheekycheeks @queen-of-glass @b00kworm @doingmyrainbow @andromeddea @jurdanhell

[hecohansen31]

I Know The Signs Of The Ancient Flame

College Student! Michael Langdon+Classical Student! Reader.

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

How are you? I haven’t published the fic for a while, and I am still scared shitless about publishing this kind of things, because it doesn’t have smut and it is.. more about a ‘guilty pleasure’, than anything!

But I still hope you’ll like the idea behind it! (Also if this interests you I have done a similar piece about classical culture with Xavier, which you can find HERE).

As always: any feedback is welcomed, let me know what you think about it, whether it’s positive/negative (just remember to be kind): hearts, reblogs and comments all go straight up to my heart!

Have a nice day!

PLOT: Stuck in a tiny elevator with your ex-boyfriend, you suddenly discover that your story might be more classical than you thought.

WORDS:3,4 K

WARNINGS: Angst, Past Trauma, Break-Up, Classical Annoying Things, Claustrophobia, Claustrophobic Spaces.

You seriously should have known better than to simply hook-up with some of your fellow schoolmates, mostly when group projects were around, and you had been paired with the boy who had broken your heart: Michael Langdon.

You had started a relationship with him with no interest other than for the sex, which was amazing from the rumors you had heard, and which you could confirm with some of your own.

But then for you it had become more.

Michael had heightened your perception with a softness he had shown only to you, making you think you were special, different from a simple hook-up.

But then things had stared becoming more difficult than you had originally believed they truly were.

Michael ignited stupid fights and he would get on your nerves, making you feel like who was truly doing the most in your relationship was you.

In the end, he had just given up: one night you had fallen asleep with him and the day after that… he was gone and when you had tried to confront him, he had shooed you away.

This was enough to leave you heartbroken, even more since you shared a few courses, so you had to actually face him constantly, although you had become especially talented at being as cold as him.

That was till the day your teachers had thought it would be a good idea to set you up on a joined project for your final paper, since you had both expressed your interest in the same theme: the fourth book of “Aeneid”.

What your Latin Literature teacher hadn’t understood, other than your barely contained hatred for each other, was the different point of views you beheld on the subject.

Whereas you had a more lenient thought towards Dido, knowing all too well what it felt like to be seduced and abandoned, Michael didn’t understand her cry and need for Aeneas, decidedly classifying her as a rather maniac desperate woman.

Whereas you thought that Dido’s suicide was caused by Aeneas and the most tragic of tragedy in the entire epic poem, to Michael it was nothing more than a last gesture of revenge, a useless reply to a man who had told her ‘no’.

You weren’t in the slightest in the mood to talk with your ex about this, mostly when all he kept on doing was blabbering his own opinion as if it was the best.

After the teacher had assigned your homework, you had both insisted on the possibility of a change of partner, which wasn’t possible, since he thought that your diverging opinions would work well in a debate.

Which was stupid, according to you both, to say the least.

After you had exited the classroom, definitely scorned, Michael had followed you, even after you had suggested you two just worked on your own things and then put them together, once you were finished with your researched.

‘It doesn’t work like that!’ he had mumbled, annoyed ‘I don’t know about you, but I am honestly trying my best to get a decent grade in this class…’.

‘This is why I am telling you to leave the entire thing at me’ you had shot back, meanwhile you went through the lawn of the college park, trying to quickly get away from him.

‘I…don’t think that you should do everything alone…” something in his tone seemed rather embarrassed, but you didn’t dare to turn around to check on him: you knew all too well what his blue eyes could do to you “… the teacher actually paired us together because of our contrasting ideas…”.

‘Which means that if we work together all you’ll do is try to convince me that your stupid opinion is the best one’ you replied, moving onto the first library you could find, almost having the satisfaction of closing the door in his face.

‘… well if you start up with that attitude we certainly won’t have a nice experience’ he commented, stopping the door from closing just a few minutes before it might have slapped on his face ‘… I am no asking for you to stop this hostility, but maybe… just to soften it’.

Yeah, of course, he could come back whenever it was useful for him…

What a dick.

‘… go to hell, honestly’ you simply mumbled back at his proposal, sneaking in the elevator and again Michael managed to catch the ride with you, which would make the entire thing quite more awkward.

‘Very mature, (Y/N)’ he mumbled, meanwhile he set himself on your side, as you huffed “,,, that is why we broke up, honestly… you always see your single point of view and nothing else”.

You were ready to properly reply to him, but suddenly the elevator went black and a strange noise was heard before the elevator shook lightly, under your feet, sending you against Michael and making you both fall on the ground, you on top of Michael, before the light reappeared but not the movement of the elevator.

“What the fuck?!” mumbled Michael, meanwhile you felt him shifting nervously under you as you tried to get away from him, to reach for your backpack which you had lost due to the sudden shake “What the hell is going on?”.

“I think that it is probably an alien invasion” you joked, immediately pushing yourself up to use the emergency button, knowing all too well that in some pretty shitty situations the elevator of the college library would stop working.

All you could do was just wait.

With your ex, in the same small place.

��… did this thing just broke?” Michael looked seriously panicked at the sole thought of it being, indeed, broken and you couldn’t help but smirk just to spite him, nodding lightly.

“This shit hasn’t been working properly since I first came here, we’ll have just to sit here and wait for the technician” for which you weren’t ecstatic, since you were stuck there with your idiotic ex, but there was no other way.

You would just put your headphones on and ignore all the incoherent mumbling that Michael had to say to you.

… and then you saw him crunching on the ground, his face definitely paler than it was healthy and in an attempt at human decency you reached out, immediately startling him, with his eyes going to the closed door, blocked due to the elevator having been stuck between floors.

Nothing too bad, the electricity had probably run out and the technician would have to just push and pull on a few things to get it work again.

“… Michael… is everything ok?” his breathing was shallow and sweat was drenching his perfect curls (you had once noticed a hair curler in his bathroom but hadn’t made any questions).

“No…” he swallowed a deep intake of saliva, before his breath went back to being even shallower “… I hate… fucking… closed spaces… I am scared… shit… fuck… by them”.

The revelation honestly surprised you: he had never talked much about himself when you were together, or better… he had talked about himself a lot…

All his best points, the perfectness of his features and the elegance of his steps, the way he was so smart that every teacher loved him, whether or not they approved of his methods or not…

… but he had never spoken or confessed to you why some nights he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep till you joined him in bed, or when he would wake up from nightmare and hold you just a bit tighter…

… he had never explained to you what had troubled him and in the end it had become heavy in your relationship, one of the many reasons why you had broken up eventually, feeling like he was just withholding important information from you, and it hurt… to know he didn’t think you were worthy of that intimacy.

You didn’t have many experiences with claustrophobic people, you, yourself weren’t a big fan of small spaces, but you had learnt to live with them (mostly since your apartment was the size of a shoe box) but you thought that water and slow breathing might help.

You took out your precious water bottle from your backpack: it had been decorated with a shit ton of stickers you had gotten from Michael, who would bring them over to you at first as a joke and then as a true gift.

You had thought about getting rid of the painful water bottle, but you couldn’t help but think it would be a waste, and in the end kept it, although sometimes you would look at a particular sticker and memory would bring you back to that moment when you had been happy with Michael.

Michael seemed a bit taken aback by what you were offering him, but he took the water bottle in his hands, gulping a few good sips from it, before he splashed some on his face, gaining a bit of color, which made you let out a breath of relief and move closer to Michael.

“Everything is going to be alright” you tried to make him relax, honestly wanting to touch his shoulder, to let him know that you were there with him, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, alongside that you weren’t sure that you would be able to stop yourself from touching him any further “… Michael you just need to take a few deep breaths, understood?”.

“What if the oxygen runs out and we end up dying for asphyxia?” he shot back, but did as you told him, meanwhile you rolled your eyes at him.

“… and then I was the anxious one” you muttered under your breath “… then you should better shut the fuck up”.

Michael couldn’t overlook the sarcastic annoyed tone you took and shot you back a rather pretty smirk, although it wasn’t as energetic as it would have been, hadn’t he been having a slight mental breakdown a few minutes before.

“You know that I can’t shut the fuck up to save my life”.

Oh, you did perfectly.

Michael was always the one who would say the more hurtful during your fights: he knew exactly where to hit and sometimes he just couldn’t hold his tongue to save his life, hence you hadn’t been able to stop yourself from shattering in front of him many times.

He would always come back to you, asking for forgiveness, as a child.

Those were the only times he would allow you to see the trauma he had gone through.

“… well either way, I am going to put on my headphones, so Taylor Swift will cover your voice in 1. 2…”.

“Maybe this is a sign” spoke Michael, catching your attention for the cryptic phrase “…that we are meant to discuss about the entire ‘Dido and Aeneas’ debate”.

“That’s the stupidest thing I have ever heard you say” you replied, shooting him a look that ‘kindly’ invited him not to say anything, anymore “… and I have heard you say a shit ton of stupid things”.

“Oh… I remember that you quite liked when I would whisper at your ear…” he retorted, and this time his smirk was full-blown.

“… I honestly preferred you when you were not breathing” you mumbled, although you didn’t plug your ears yet with your earphones “I don’t see how we can debate on such things: I believe that Dido was a fucking tragic heroine who got more than she bargained for, for daring to love Aeneas, a dick who left her, because Fate had plans for him… I hate that asshole and you won’t convince me in any way to change my opinion”.

For all your life, Dido had been the scream shout by women who loved too much and got, literally, burned by it, and after Michael’s betrayal, you had felt even closer to the epic heroine.

You certainly didn’t glorify her last choice but understood the way she pushed the blame onto Aeneas and did the same as you analyzed the book, from your point of view.

“Aeneas couldn’t just say to the Fate ‘hey, dude, I just have fallen in love with a girl, so maybe… I might have to stick to Carthago, for longer and never found Rome’. It was simply impossible for him… he couldn’t have done that”.

“He loved her, and he might have stuck and fought more for that feeling” you mumbled, almost burned by Michael’s affirmation.

“You are truly naïve, (Y/N)” mumbled Michael, shaking his head slowly “… you always think that a thing as small as love can fix anything: he fucking couldn’t let love blind him, he had Lavinia waiting for him on the Roman shores!”.

“But he loved Dido, he said so, the cave… the…” you were just rambling right now, the way he spoke Michael didn’t accept any objection.

“… he didn’t love her, he just found her suitable for his plans, he used her” Michael’s tone was final.

“… so, you won’t deny me, at least, that Aeneas was an asshole?” you replied definitely all angered.

“He did what he had to do” he mumbled, as if he wasn’t proud of Aeneas’ behavior, as if it had been his, some kind of sadness shining in his eyes as he sent her a little look as if he wanted to see her reaction to the entire thing “… there are some things that are waaay out of our control”.

“I think that is what weak men say when they can’t do something, because they don’t want to” you whispered, and this got definitely to Michael, who turned to you, his eyes extremely icy.

“Why can’t you just convince yourself that sometimes some things are better on than off?”.

And that, this time, got to you.

You got to your feet, immediately coming closer to him.

“… are you talking about our relationship or ‘Dido and Aeneas’?” you shout “… because I was not the one who took off in the dark of the night! I would have fought, but maybe it is, indeed, better off than on! It makes things easier, definitely”.

You then moved to turn around and seriously sat onto your place again, with headphones on, but this time Michael’s hand shot out to get to you, making you turn around, and although you were expecting him to be angry at you, he looked devastated.

“I fucking saw you being miserable with me” he commented “… yeah we had the best highs I have ever had in a relationship, you made me feel so good, but then… the lows were so ugly and too many and…”.

“You were fucking the one who didn’t want to work in that relationship!” you retorted, pointing your finger at his chest “… I was so so fucking in love with you, butterfly in the stomach and all that shit… but you were always closed off, you didn’t let me in…”.

“Because I am fucking rotten, (Y/N)!” he screamed in your face and before you knew it he was up in front of you, his face all red due not to anger towards you, but to anger towards himself, something that broke your heart.

Truly.

“… all I do is take and destroy and that was what I was doing to you, the only good thing in my life”.

Silence broke down between the two of them.

Michael also shifted his sight onto the door, pushing it so he wouldn’t be facing you.

You still were able to stare at his distorted reflection in the side of the elevator: he was a few minutes from crying and again… you searched out in your backpack to find a box of tissues.

You moved closer as if you were cornering a scared animal, holding the box between you two in order for Michael to grab it at its own pace, which he did, almost stealing it from your hand, and scrunching it closer to himself, almost pushing it onto his chest.

“… thank you” he mumbled, softly “… I am sorry for this entire thi…”.

“You thought that you were protecting me…” you mumbled, catching immediately his attention, although your words were resentful, your tone wasn’t, blocked onto a calm uniformity “... but what you didn’t understand was that I felt shitty in these months… even more than when I was with you, which might be crazy…”.

“I felt also shittier, if it might help” mumbled Michael, a weak smile onto his face and you moved down to sit next to him, your shoulder budging against his.

“It does, you should feel shitty for letting me cry over you, asshole” your tone was in no way mean, neither it held that bitter sarcastic bit it had at first, a lighter teasing one that brought some kind of beauty onto your face, making Michael beam at you.

“Oh c’mon, you might say that, but deep down you obviously still love me” he retorted, shifting his face to your side, making you smirk lightly “… you have to admit it”.

“And you have to admit that you are an asshole” you answered back, this time definitely more aggressively “…Michael, all you needed to do was talk to me, I can handle things I am a big girl”.

“It isn’t that easy” Michael’s face was again hiding from your glare “… people like me can never ‘just talk their problems out’, you don’t know how people look at me, whenever I tell them… they look at me like the monster I fucking am…”.

He got up, swiftly, and then moved to the opposite side of the small elevator.

“… maybe Aeneas just wanted to stop Dido from being hurt, that is why he ran away, he had a fucking pissed goddess on his shoulders, why would he want to involve others in his shitty mess”.

“Because she fucking didn’t care of that pissed off goddess!” you shouted back, gaining his interest and when you turned around his eyes were teary and her gaze softened “… I wouldn’t have cared and I wouldn’t have run away from you, Michael”.

“You don’t know… what I…” he tried to push you away, but you raised onto your feet.

“… I don’t care, because you took care of me when I had a fever, you made me tea whenever I was panicking and you brought me stickers because they reminded you of me” your smile was sad “I loved you, truly”.

“I still love you, truly” Michael’s word were extremely honest and you just were left with your mouth open, surprised by the thought that Michael ever loved you, and blushed, lowering your eyes, but just when you were…

… the elevator shook again, signaling that it had started working again.

You were again pushed against Michael’s chest who protectively draped a shoulder over your shoulder, before the elevator regained its power and started again his movements quickly reached the chosen floor, the door opening to reveal two annoyed technicians.

You couldn’t help but blush thinking that maybe the two must think that you might be the one who actually stopped the elevator to spend a ‘romantic moment’ there.

Michael thanked them for their work, before he pushed you away from the elevator, after he had dragged your backpack out of it with his foot and you pushed it over the shoulder, smiling politely before you sprinted away from ‘the crime scene’, Michael behind you.

You both reached a more secluded area, Michael smirking lightly over to you, although his expression had some nostalgy to it.

“Well that was a fun experience” he mumbled, his hand onto your waist, more out of habit than anything.

“You shitted bricks for half of the experience” you replied, smirking at him, before you brushed a few of his curls away from his face “…you are an idiot”.

“You liked this idiot” he retorted, and you weren’t able to deny the truth anymore.

The knowledge of his insecurities might have definitely gotten into you.

“I did”.

“We could give a happy ending to Dido and Aeneas… we could be the one who stayed together” he proposed.

You were a bit uneasy trying things again, mostly because if Michael left you again, you weren’t sure you would have survived again, because of the pain, but the smile on Michael’s face as he gripped onto your hand as you nodded, was the best thing ever.

But you stopped him from actually kissing you, as he leaned in.

“We have homework to make”.

And then you sprinted off, Michael on your tail.

You would be fine, Michael would be fine.

And it was all because “non ignara mali miseris succurrere disco” (“not unknown to being unwell, I am learning how to help those in need”).

---

So as always: feedback is precious, even more lately, when during the holidays us writers get no notes, so don’t be a bad people and share the fic if you liked it, saying something, it literally takes you a few seconds, and it makes us writers happy!

With this being said, here are the people of my stable tag-list (if you want to be added/removed, just shoot me an ask!).

@emmyrosee​ @blakewaterxx​ @lovelylangdonx​ @so-langdon​ @1-800-bitchcraft​ @rosegoldrichie​ @lathraios​ @rocketgirl2410​ @kaetastic​ @frenchbread4ever​​ @melodylangdon​

[theeeveetamer]

I challenge you to write some cute, fluffy Sylvix slice of life :) Against... No one! Isn't that great? (well, you can challenge me if you want to, but I JUST WANT A PIECE OF FLUFF, okay? Pls :x)

Merry Christmas :)

(Based on that one headcanon about Felix getting bullied and Sylvain painstakingly copying his notes for him)

Edit: Adding an AO3 Link! https://archiveofourown.org/works/21947788

____________

Felix was a lot of things. A short dork with a chip on his shoulder. An emotionally stunted, overly aggressive weeaboo. … But he was never lazy or sloppy, and he was certainly never late. Especially not for Sylvain, and especially not when the redhead was the only way he’d get home aside from walking.

He’d offered to drive his boyfriend home from school last month after he’d gotten banned from the bus for punching some kid in the face. In his defense… The guy was asking for it by teasing him about his Naruto shirt. Maybe he was a little bit biased, but anyone who would talk shit about Felix deserved a swift kick in the shins.

Ever since that little incident he’d been sure to be prompt. Sylvain had practice after school and he didn’t want to make him late. Especially not on a Friday, when they were both dying to get home and forget about school for forty-eight hours.

He checked the clock hanging up on the wall. It was only by five minutes so maybe it shouldn’t have rung any alarm bells, but something was off when Felix came down the hall toward the entrance. His typical, generally displeased expression was replaced by a deep scowl, and instead of his usual backpack he was carrying everything in his arms.

“Hey Fe, are you ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

“Where’s your backpack?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He growled.

The few loose sheets of paper ruffled as people passed them by, and he clutched them closer to his chest. Sylvain had long since learned not to expect eye contact from his best friend, but today Felix seemed particularly intent on avoiding it. His eyes remained downcast and glaring somewhere off to his left, and if he squinted he swore he could see his bottom lip quivering slightly.

“Babe… Is something wrong?”

“Look, I just left it in my locker, okay?”

“Don’t you need it? We can go back for it.”

He seemed awfully upset for just having forgotten it, and he was carrying a folder for a subject Sylvain knew he needed to go back to his locker to get.

“No.”

“No? It’s no trouble, it’s not like you need to catch the bus.”

“You’ll be late for practice.”

“Aw, c’mon. Coach doesn’t care if I’m a little late.”

“Goddess, why are you so pushy?” His boyfriend took a shaky breath. “You want to see what happened to it? Fine.”

He turned and marched back into the school before he’d even offered a response. The heels of his heavy boots stomped along the tile floors, and the few stragglers still attempting to exit the school scattered around him.

“Hey! Wait up!” Sylvain trotted after him. For someone with such short legs, Felix sure could move when he wanted to.

Felix opened his locker and shoved the offending article into his hands. It didn’t look any different at first glance. Still the same black canvas with the little symbol from whatever anime Felix told him about this time… But upon touching it, he realized what Felix meant. The bottom was soaked through with sticky liquid, and a quick peek inside revealed several notebooks and an expensive graphing calculator had been drenched.

“I don’t want to ask my old man for a replacement so…”

“I’m sorry Fe. This is all my fault.”

He’d been wondering why his ex – if she could even be called that, since they’d only spent a few nights together – had come into fourth snickering like the witch she was. His most persistent shadow never seemed to know when to let enough be enough.

“Whatever. Can you just take me home now?”

He went to snatch the bag back, but Sylvain held it up above his head. Felix didn’t bother to reach for it; He just crossed his arms over his chest and glared at him sourly.

“You don’t want this in your locker. It’ll drip over the rest of your stuff. I’ll throw it out for you on my way to practice, okay?”

“Fine. Just get me out of here.”

_______________

Okay, so maybe he was more than a few minutes late to practice. And maybe coach did mind if he was late… But whatever. He had to run to the store, and it would definitely be closed by the time he got done.

Three new notebooks: Three subject, college ruled, color coordinated. Blue for algebra, green for biology, and red for history. Oh, and a calculator. Felix was using an older model so he sprung for the upgraded version. The backpack was a little trickier, but it didn’t take him long to find a sufficiently similar one online and with two-day shipping it’d be there in time for Sunday.

Now the hard part. He spent three hours that night painstakingly pulling apart the sticky pages one by one, and another six going through every page to copy his boyfriend’s sloppy, rushed writing in neat little strokes. Thank the Goddess they were only a month into the semester, so there was much less to copy than he’d anticipated. There wasn’t much he could do for the occasional sheet of homework stuffed between the pages, but he made sure to do everything else word for word. Even the practice math problems, copied step for step.

Then when the bag arrived he packed it all neatly away and set it beside his own backpack so he wouldn’t forget it come Monday.

There was still the nagging anxiety that Felix would just talk to his dad and get a replacement, but there wasn’t much risk of that happening. The Fraldarius household was still reeling after the death of Mr. Blaiddyd, and he knew his boyfriend had gotten into more than a few fights with his father over it. What exactly about he hadn’t revealed, but if it was bad enough to come knocking on his door in the middle of the night then Sylvain knew better than to ask.

His was right not to be worried. He doubted that Felix would be shuffling off to his first class of the day with his notebooks and folders piled high in his arms if he’d been able to get a new backpack.

“Hey Felix-!” He tried pushing through the early morning rush toward him, but he didn’t seem to hear him over the din. He didn’t see him waving like an idiot either, since his boyfriend had an obnoxious habit of keeping his head down as he walked. He quickly disappeared into his first class of the day before Sylvain could push his way through the early morning crowd.

What a pain. He’d been hoping to hand it to him while they were mostly alone in the halls, but this was fine too. Slightly more embarrassing, but he wasn’t about to go through all this effort for nothing.

He marched right into the Freshman homeroom class, more than a few curious eyes staring him down, and dropped the extra backpack onto Felix’s desk.

“Sylvain! What are you doing here?”

“Thought you could use this? No need to thank me.” He offered with a wink. The girl sitting behind his boyfriend practically swooned.

“I thought you were going to throw that out?”

“I did. This one is new, see?” He rubbed his hand along the bottom and pulled away, Demonstrating that it was clearly dry. “Just take it.”

“Syl…” He pulled it into his lap and clutched the canvas bag to his chest so it wouldn’t fall when he unzipped the top. He’d set the new calculator on top of the notebooks, and it nearly fell out when he went to look inside. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“Yeah, I did…” He muttered under his breath. It was his fault that his boyfriend had to deal with all of his crazy former lovers, he deserved all the kind gestures in the world. But he was pretty sure if he said that too loudly he’d be picking his teeth up off of the floor. Instead… “And hey, maybe it’ll be enough to finally get you into bed with me?”

He waited until Felix’s eyes snapped up to meet his own before he offered him another little wink. His entire face went beet-red in an instant: the only reward Sylvain would ever need.

“You-! You asshole!”

“Love you too, babe.”

He made a swift exit before Felix could kill him, and just before the first bell rang, but he was barely five steps into the empty hallway when something slammed into his back. He stumbled forward a step and nearly toppled over, but quickly righted himself. He thought for a moment that Felix might have come out of his classroom to throw his gift back at him, but projectiles didn’t tend to cling like this. Besides, was decidedly too Felix-shaped for that. The shorter man’s arms wrapped around his middle and his cheek pressed firmly against his back between his shoulder blades.

“Thank you…” He mumbled. It was quiet and muffled by the back of his shirt, but Sylvain could feel the vibrations ring through his entire body.

“Yeah… Of course Fe.” He swallowed thickly, blush rising to his own face. How did he always manage to be so cute without trying? “Anything for you.”

[lgbtyrus]

Two Exes on Mars

A Tyrus fic where they’re aged up + broken up :) It will have a ‘happily ever after’, I promise. Note: IDK if you know your Andi Mack lore, but just in case, Shadyside is in a fictional US state called Midwest.

Part 1/? (I’m thinking 3 or 4)

Words: 2,668

He kissed him goodbye. It wasn’t even rainy or cloudy outside, much less foggy. It was super bright and sunny, and Cyrus could hear every single bird in Shadyside chirping as his now ex-boyfriend walked out the front door of his house. He waited until TJ was out of his driveway to shut the door and break out in tears, pressing his forehead and fist against his door.

Why? he wondered. Why? Why? Why?

But he knew why. He knew why TJ had let him go in the worst breakup in the world. He had tried to a week ago which led to Cyrus breaking down in front of him and ended up with them back together. But the tension between them was so obviously, and it lead to TJ’s horrible mood swings and random outbursts he never apologized for. It made Cyrus feel like crap. Then in the middle of the week, TJ tried breaking up with him over text. Cyrus ignored it, and TJ went over to his house the next day like nothing had happened. Not even three days later, TJ came over to break up him a third time. For good.

That just happened two minutes ago, and Cyrus silently let him leave this time. He shouldn’t have ever let him see him cry.

“You have to go to California, Cyrus,” TJ had told him, his eyes red and his hands clenching into tight fists. All Cyrus could do was stare at the floor. It’s not everyday you get a chance to go to USC, but it also meant leaving everyone you loved behind- including TJ. Him and TJ had been together since the 8th grade, and he had included TJ in all of his future plans. For him, being in a long distance relationship was a possibility, and he never thought TJ would be against it.

“I want to go to MSU,” Cyrus shook his head, refusing to look at him. TJ was going to MSU on a basketball scholarship, and yeah, they had a theatre and screenwriting, but it wasn’t USC. It was one of the hardest choices Cyrus had to make.

“You’re clearly lying, Cyrus,” TJ let out a frustrated sigh, “I know when you’re lying.” It’s true, he did. His hands always instinctively went inside a pocket, and Cyrus has never been able to stop it. “Cyrus. I know I’m the main reason why you want to stay in Midwest, but I want you to go to USC. It’s what you want.”

“Does that mean we have to break up, though?” Cyrus asked him sadly, his voice quiet. TJ ran his fingers through his blonde hair and let out a deep breath.

“We’d be doing long distance for four years, Cyrus. I don’t want to hold you back from being at your prime if you’re moping around missing me the entire time.”

“Are you just saying this because you’re the one that’s not going to be fine?” There wasn’t even a pause.

“Yes, Cyrus!” TJ said loudly, startling Cyrus. “I can’t spend four years of my life being sad because I miss you all the time, but I also can’t live with the guilt I’m going to feel if you don’t go to USC. This entire situation is driving me insane, and I really think breaking up is the best way to go.”

“You honestly think that?” Cyrus frowned, looking right up at him. He didn’t want to break down like he did the first time. “You’re just giving up? Not even giving long distance a try. After five years, TJ?”

TJ shamefully looked away before saying, “I love you, Cyrus. But I think it’d hurt less to let you go.”

“How?” Cyrus’ voice started to tremble as he spoke in complete disbelief, “How can you even say you love me right now?” TJ didn’t say anything. He just slowly walking up to Cyrus, each step taking its own time before cupping his face in his hands and kissing him softly.

TJ pulled away, whispering, “Bye, Cyrus.”

Cyrus was now sitting on his bedroom floor, playing music louder than his occasional sob. Andi and Buffy were on their way, but until then, it was him, and a lone polaroid picture he had of him and TJ on their first Valentine’s Day together right in front of him. Him and TJ were sitting on one side of the booth at The Spoon while Marty and Buffy sat on the other side. TJ had his arms around him and was smiling in to his cheek, leaving a very fluttered Cyrus to be captured forever.

“Cyrus!” someone yelled out from downstairs. “We’re here.”

“Upstairs!” Cyrus yelled out, his voice slightly cracking. He hadn’t spoken since TJ left, and his throat hurt. He was glad he left the door unlocked for them because he didn’t have the energy to move.

Andi peaked her head through his bedroom door, frowning when she saw him, “Hi, Cyrus.”

“Hey,” Cyrus waved, “come in.” He hadn’t seen Andi in about three weeks was she was getting busy with her senior art project for SAVA. He loved her for being here during a busy time. Buffy trailed in behind Andi with two loaded grocery bags.

“We brought ice cream and pie,” Buffy held the bags up. “We stopped by your kitchen to get utensils.”

“Thank you because I was not going to move,” Cyrus said. Andi and Buffy sat down on each side of him and rested their heads on his shoulder.

“You can cry if you want,” Andi told him.

“Yeah,” Buffy agreed, “we bought three tissue boxes.”

“I’ve been crying for like an hour, and I’m just tired of it at this point. But this is also probably just the start,” Cyrus mumbled. “How am I supposed to accept that someone I talked to everyday for five years is leaving my life?”

“I know it hurts, Cyrus,” Buffy whispered. “But you’re stronger than you think. You’re going to get through this. Trust me. I’m always right.”

“I know you are,” Cyrus smiled slightly. “You know what sucks the most though?”

“What?” they asked in unison.

“We already have matching tuxedos from prom.” -

Cyrus and TJ showed up with new tuxedos to prom. Andi herself made Cyrus a brand new one. The according to different sources, both Cyrus and TJ had both begged Gus to cancel their Prom Court nomination. Gus thought it was funny until Buffy stepped in, and he got scared.

Cyrus and TJ didn’t sit together at lunch anymore or do homework together or visit the swing sets every Tuesday after TJ got out of tutoring. Cyrus submitted his paperwork to attend USC in the fall and according to Amber who was at Shadyside’s community college, TJ was going to go to MSU to play for their basketball team. Buffy and Marty would be seeing him at MSU seeing they got track scholarships.

Cyrus cried every night for the rest of the school year after finishing his homework because he worked to hard to have his GPA suffer over a boy who clearly didn’t care if he fell apart. He sometimes sat in the bathtub and let music fill his whole bathroom and no matter what, every single song would remind him of TJ. Of course, that was his fault for playing the playlists TJ had made him on Spotify. He wondered if he could see that he was listening to them. He hoped he did.

Cyrus didn’t have any communication with TJ since the last texts he sent him. It was a 2AM on a Saturday night, about three weeks since the breakup. He felt horrible and didn’t know how to stop crying. Even though Buffy had told him to call him whenever, he couldn’t keep dumping everything on her.

Cyrus: hey tj I hope im not waking u up idk if you still have your phone set so that u only get text alerts from me but I just wanted to say that I miss you.

Cyrus: I miss you so much tj idk what to do without you. Everything hurts all the time and I just want to talk to you and hear you voice even if we cant date anymore please talk to me. Please be my friend again tj we were best friends for 5 years we work so good together

Cyrus: I love you. I think that ill always be in love with you.

TJ: Goodnight Underdog.

Cyrus didn’t remember what time he went to sleep, but he felt like he cried for hours after that. The pain in his chest beat him up completely until he was too weak to flip his pillow to the dry side.

At their graduation, Cyrus gave a speech and then walked off stage to everyone in the auditorium clapping. It felt surreal. When he looked up smiling, out of all of the people he saw in the sea of graduates, he saw TJ clapping. He had his lip curled up in one corner which showed that he was on the verge of tears. That was the only time that night Cyrus wanted to cry.

-

A month into USC and without a doubt, Cyrus was homesick and probably depressed. He had made a great group of friends that were similar to him and super positive. He appreciated them, but 8 out of 10 times, they could never convince him to leave his room. He just stayed in and did homework and work on his script. It was about a man who gets his heart shattered and decided to move to Mars as part of a science experiment and when he’s already in space, he realize that his ex is one of the 100 people on board. Things quickly escalate. His friends loved the scripts and always asked to read updates, but he still sent snippets to Bex because he missed her.

It had been months since the breakup with TJ that happened late April. He should be over it now, he thought a lot of the time. But it still hurt. TJ really shot a hole in his heart and there was nothing he could do about it. He didn’t cry everyday like he used to. But every other few weeks, he snuck into the bathroom to cry so his roommate wouldn’t see. It was embarrassing to admit.

Cyrus kept things in a rotation. Script, class, eat, homework, sometimes friends, and sleep. It was hard to stay happy and to enjoy himself. It was hard to feel like he was living through something when he’s been dead inside for months. With Halloween coming up, he felt even worse. He’s never not had anyone to match costumes with. For five years, him and TJ did a couple’s costume and before that, him, Buffy, and Andi always had something up their sleeves. He missed all of them.

Then one day, his roommate let one of his friends into their dorm room. His roommate was part of his friend group, so there was that. Cyrus was working on his infamous script and didn’t even get a text that he was coming. Usually, he said no, though. “Hey, Rich,” Cyrus said as he walked in.

“Hey, Cy,” he said. “I was in the building and wanted to drop by.”

“Why’d you text Karson and not me?” Cyrus asked.  

“You always say no.”

“True. Anyways, what’s up?”

“We need one more person for our Halloween costume. It’s Full House. We need an Uncle Jesse. You in?”

“Yeah,” Cyrus grinned, “of course.”

-

“Damn,” his friend Bogie said. “That TJ foo fucked you up bad, huh?” All eight of them were sitting around a bonfire before Thanksgiving break. It had been a long night of confessions and telling each other things not a lot of other people knew. Somehow in the moment, Cyrus spent thirty minutes telling them the becoming and downfall of him and TJ. Rich had convinced him to go to therapy on campus early November, and Cyrus wished he had gone sooner. It was getting so much easier to be around his friends and have open conversations.

“Yeah,” Cyrus admitted. “I cried everyday for months. I still cry sometimes.”

“Is that why you spend forever in the bathroom?” Karson asked him. Cyrus nodded.

“Damn, Cy,” Roxana mumbled, “no wonder you were so distant at the beginning of the school year. I thought you were just stuck up, but I guess I was wrong. I’m glad you trust us now, though.”

“Me, too,” Cyrus said.

“So, this TJ,” Bogie asked, “what’s he up to?”

“Besides knowing that he plays basketball for Midwest State U, I have no idea. I haven’t talked to him since I last texted him after the breakup. I’m still good friends with his sister, but she never says anything.”

“Dang, so he’s a baller?” Bogie asked.

“Probably just getting fucked up at parties,” Mikhenna suggested. Cyrus didn’t respond. He just shrugged.

“Do you still love him?” Roxana asked him.

“I don’t think so,” Cyrus shook his head. “I’d be stupid to. But thanks for listening, guys. I feel a lot better. I feel like I belong and that I can finally move on.”

-

Cyrus didn’t see the point of flying all the way back home for a week long break, so he decided to stay behind in California and take a train to his aunt and uncle’s place. They had a daughter that thirteen and always had juicy middle school drama.

When he was laying down on the bed of the guest room, his phone started vibrating. Buffy was on Facetime, and he answered immediately saying, “Hey, Buff.”

“Hey, Cyrus,” Buffy grinned widely before switching the camera, “look who’s with me!”

Andi waved at the camera, “Hey, Cyrus!”

“Andi,” Cyrus grinned. “How are you? We haven’t talked in like four days.”

“I know right,” Andi laughed. “I’m fine. What about you?”

“I’m good, I’m good,” he said before registering completely that Andi was in Shadyside. “Wait,” he paused, “aren’t you supposed to be in Pennsylvania?”

“Yeah but a professor died, so they gave us two weeks off instead of three days and just postponed winter break.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“I have no idea who he is,” Andi shrugged. “But where are you?”

“With my dad’s sister and her family. I’m just chilling and eating home made food before I go back,” Cyrus smiled. Andi moved over to sit next to Buffy and Cyrus noted that they were at the Mack’s place.

“So enough of that,” Buffy said and then looked at Andi who gave her a stern look. “Come on, let me tell him.”

“Well now you have to tell him,” Andi rolled his eyes.

“That’s very true,” Cyrus agreed.

“I know,” Buffy smirked. “That’s why I said that. Anyways,” she looked right at the camera, “we went to the mall with Amber in her car, but it broke down in the parking lot when we were leaving. She had to call TJ to come pick us up, which was already awkward enough because I always ignore him at school, but I was like whatever, it’s a twenty minute drive. Then in the car, literally, this man, I mean, boy, can ask any question. Any question in the world. Preferably, one directed at his sister, like you know, has your car been acting funky for a while? But he asks me and Andi, ‘How is Cyrus doing?’” Cyrus’ heart dropped. He hasn’t heard anything about TJ in so long he’s forgotten how to react.

“What did you say?” Cyrus asked nervously.

“I said that I charge $50 per fact,” Buffy said, “and he didn’t say anything else.”

“That’s weird,” Cyrus frowned. “I wonder why he doesn’t just ask Amber. I literally call her once a week, every Tuesday.”

“No idea,” Buffy said. “But maybe she just doesn’t answer him for the same reasons I didn’t.”

“Which are?”

“We love you.”

-

anyways follow my main @webarebares <3 thank you for reading! feel free to send asks if something was confusing or if a typo was horrible or just because. i luv u.