#first i wanted fluff but the after writing the first few paragraph i was like go big or go home it's gonna be hurt comfort

[stylesispunk]

"Did the love affair maim you too?" | Part ii

Joel Miller xf!reader

part one | next part

chapter summary: After getting back his memories, Joel and you slipped away again.

word count: 15,3k (yes, it's longer than the first chapter)

warnings: angst, perhaps fluff, mentions of death, mentions of blood, and more angst, you will find out why Joel is mean in this chapter. I know I'm a teacher, but I didn't proofread, so I apologize for any mistake. paragraphs in italics indicate flashbacks.

a/n: Hello! The awaited part 2 of this story is here! I want to say thank you for the amount of love the previous part received, it was so nice to see all your reactions to this one! It was also my first fic reaching 1k> in less than a week and was overwhelming (positively). THIS IS NOT THE LAST PART, so stay tuned for the next! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! happy reading and PLEASE tell me what you think. 💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

For a mere second of time, wanting was enough for you. In a harsh reality where a tender love couldn’t be part of the writing pages of a tragedy that had changed the plans destiny had for humanity, even a simple glimpse of a spark was enough to initiate the fire.

Finding a reason to wake up was enough. Joel was enough for you, even when it was a path with not a clear ending.

A lie.

A maim affair engulfed in fire burning your lungs.

A tragedy.

You looked up from your work as you sensed people entering at the place, your eyes meeting Joel’s for the first time. His expression was hard, his eyes narrowed as he sized you up. He didn’t say anything at first, just watched you with a guarded look that made you feel like you were being evaluated.

“Can I help you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady under his intense gaze.

“She needs that looked at,” he said, his tone brusque as he gestured to Ellie’s arm.

You nodded, motioning for Ellie to sit down. As you began to clean the wound, you could feel Joel’s eyes on you, watching your every move. It was as if he was waiting for you to make a mistake, to prove that you didn’t belong there.

“So, you’re infamous nurse” Joel said after a moment, his voice still cool and distant.

You looked up from your work, meeting Joel’s eyes briefly before returning your focus to Ellie’s wound. His words hung in the air, a subtle challenge beneath the surface.

“Infamous?” you repeated, trying to keep your tone neutral. “I didn’t know I had a reputation.”

Joel shrugged, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his gaze never leaving you. “Small town. People talk.”

You nodded, understanding that this was as much about sizing you up as it was about Ellie’s injury. You’d heard about Joel—everyone in Jackson had. He was a protector, a survivor, and not someone who trusted easily.

“I’m just here to help,” you said, keeping your voice steady as you wrapped Ellie’s arm with a bandage. “That’s all.”

Ellie, sensing the tension, glanced between the two of you, her eyes wide. “She’s okay, Joel,” she said, trying to ease the atmosphere. “It’s just a scratch.”

Joel didn’t respond to Ellie; his focus remained on you. There was something in his eyes—a guardedness, a wariness that told you he was waiting for you to prove yourself, or perhaps waiting for you to slip up.

“I’ve been in Jackson for a few days” you continued, finishing up with Ellie’s bandage. “Just trying to do my part.”

“Everyone’s got a part to play,” Joel said, his tone still clipped. “Just make sure you know yours.”

You felt the sting of his words but didn’t let it show. Instead, you nodded, stepping back as Ellie hopped off the table.

“Thanks,” Ellie said, giving you a small smile.

“You’re welcome,” you replied, managing a smile in return.

Joel pushed off the wall, his eyes still on you as he motioned for Ellie to follow him. “Let’s go,” he said, his voice softening slightly when he spoke to her.

As they walked towards the door, Joel paused for a brief moment, his hand resting on the doorknob. He turned back, his eyes meeting yours once more. There was something in his gaze, something more than just suspicion. It was as if he was searching for something in you, trying to read who you really were beneath the surface.

For a second, the hardened lines of his face softened, but just as quickly, the guarded expression returned. Without another word, he turned away and led Ellie out of the infirmary, the door closing behind them with a quiet thud.

You felt like breathing again.

By the moment you had reached your house, the sun had barely risen, casting a pale light over the quiet settlement. A few people were starting their duties as you walked with dried tears on your face, just wanting not to be perceive and being able to take a shower and follow your routine as you always used to die it since your arrival, but the ache was bigger than your wiliness and you ended up lying in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, the horror on Joel’s face kept replaying in your mind. The heartbreak was raw and overwhelming, making it hard to breathe, let alone face the day.

You didn’t even notice you had fallen sleep until a knock came at your door, it took a moment for you to register the sound. You dragged yourself out of bed, wiping at your newly fresh tears from your eyes and trying to compose yourself as best as you could.

Opening the door, you found Maria standing there, her expression concerned.  “Hey,” she said softly, her eyes scanning your face. “Ramirez told me you didn’t show up at the infirmary this morning. Thought I’d check on you.”

You forced a weak smile, stepping aside to let her in. “Thanks, Maria. I just... fell asleep”

Maria nodded, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. She glanced around, taking in the disarray before turning back to you. “You don’t look like you’ve slept much.”

“I had a pretty good sleep” you said, voice breaking at how you so could still picturing Joel’s eyes looking at you with adoration last night “But morning came” you said, voice breaking “Joel got his memory back.”

Maria's eyes widened with concern and understanding. She moved closer, gently placing a hand on your arm. "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry.”

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes again. "He doesn't remember loving me, Maria. He thinks I took advantage of him. He hates me."

Maria's expression softened, and she pulled you into a comforting hug. "I can't imagine how painful that must be for you. But you didn't take advantage of him. You both shared something real, even if he doesn't remember it now."

You clung to her, "I don't know what to do. I feel so lost right now."

Maria pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes. "Take it one step at a time. Give yourself permission to feel what you're feeling. And remember, you have people here who care about you. You don't have to go through this alone."

You nodded, trying to find some comfort in her words. "Thanks, Maria. I just... I don't know how to face him now."

Maria squeezed your hand reassuringly. "You don't have to figure it all out today. Take some time for yourself. Maybe stay away from the infirmary for a today? give yourself a break."

You sighed, feeling lost. "Yeah, maybe that's a good idea."

Maria smiled softly. "We'll figure this out together, okay? You're stronger than you think, and you have a lot of people who care about you."

You managed a small smile. "Thanks.”

She nodded, giving you another comforting squeeze before standing up. "I'll check in on you later, alright? And if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

As she left, you felt a small sense of humiliation, as if what had just happened was just a small piece of gossip to feed a community.

You stare at the wall for a minute, getting your stuff together. If you could get over what happened before arriving to Jackson, you could follow your life. That’s what you were making yourself believe.

So, you changed into new clothes, placing Joel’s shirt under your bed to not having sight of it again. And with a deep breath you left your house, walking to de infirmary to get your job done.

A broken heart wasn’t really a big issue in an already broken world.  

As you walked to the infirmary, the weight of the morning's events lingered in your chest. The usual bustle of the settlement seemed distant, like a muted backdrop to your internal turmoil. Every step felt heavy, but you kept moving, determined to focus on your responsibilities and find some semblance of normalcy.

Upon arriving at the infirmary, you were greeted by the familiar soft hum of activity. People glanced at you with curiosity, but no one asked any questions. You were grateful for their unspoken understanding, and you quickly immersed yourself in your tasks, finding solace in the routine.

Hours passed in a blur of tending to some Jackson residents, organizing supplies, and ensuring everything was in order. The work kept your mind occupied, though it couldn't completely drown out the ache in your heart.

As the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the room, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you saw Maria standing there, her expression gentle yet firm.

"Hey," she said, her voice soft but steady. "How are you holding up?"

You managed a small, tired smile. "I'm getting by. Staying busy helps."

Maria nodded, understanding in her eyes. "I'm glad you're here. I just wanted to check in and see if you needed anything."

You shook your head. "I don’t want to talk. It’s over” you said, avoiding her gaze.

She placed a reassuring hand on your arm. "I know you said you don't want to talk, but I'm here if you change your mind," she said softly. "Sometimes it helps to just let it out."

You looked at her, the pain still fresh in your eyes. "Thanks, Maria. Maybe... maybe later. I just need some time now."

She nodded, respecting your need for space. "Take all the time you need. Just remember, we're here for you."

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, a bit of rage simmered.

“You all were the ones who told me to go for it. You told me Joel was in love for me and him recovering his memory wouldn’t break what was there, but this morning he treated me like a whore and broke my heart.”

Maria's eyes filled with sympathy and regret. "I know, and I'm so sorry for what you're going through. We all believed it would be different. Joel... he's complicated. The things he's been through have left deep scars. But that doesn't excuse how he treated you."

You took a shaky breath, the pain still fresh and raw. "I just don't understand how it could change so quickly. One moment, we were so happy, and the next... he hates me."

Maria reached out, placing a comforting hand on your arm. "Joel's been through a lot, and sometimes people lash out when they're scared or confused. But that doesn't make it any easier for you. You deserve better than that."

You nodded, tears welling up again. "I just wanted to be happy. I thought we could be happy together."

Maria's grip tightened slightly, a gesture of support. "You will be happy again. It might not feel like it now, but you will. You're strong, and you have people who care about you. We'll get through this together."

Maria gave your arm one last reassuring squeeze before stepping back. You watched her leave, feeling of sorrow. The pain was still there, but you knew it would take time, but you also knew you wouldn't have to face it alone.

Later that evening, the emotional turmoil still roiling within you, you decided to head to the bar. You hoped the familiar atmosphere and a drink might help numb the pain, even if just for a little while. As you pushed open the door, the hum of conversations and the clinking of glasses filled the air, a stark contrast to the quiet despair you felt inside.

You made your way to the bar, trying to avoid looking around too much, but it was impossible not to notice Joel sitting at a table in the corner. His arm was wrapped around Lori, and they were laughing together, looking every bit like a happy couple. The sight hit you like a punch to the gut, the wound from the morning’s confrontation ripping open all over again.

Taking a deep breath, you walked up to the bar and ordered a drink, trying to keep your hands from shaking as you waited, Rick, the bartender, sensing your mood offered a small smile.

“What’s wrong with your face, darling?” he asked, concerned on his eyes.

You graced him with a small, tired smile at the question. “Just a rough day,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded understandingly, setting your drink in front of you. “Well, here’s something to help take the edge off. If you need anything, just let me know.”

“Thanks,” you said, taking a sip of the drink. The warmth of the alcohol spread through you, momentarily dulling the pain.

As you sat there, trying to lose yourself in the comforting anonymity of the bar, you couldn’t help but glance back at Joel and Lori. Their laughter and closeness were a stark contrast to the emptiness you felt. You turned away quickly, not wanting to see any more.

“Is it Joel?” Rick asked gently, his voice cutting through your thoughts.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak without breaking down.

He sighed sympathetically, shaking his head. “Love can be a real mess sometimes.”

You chuckled bitterly. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

The bartender gave you a knowing look. “It’ll get better, you know. It might not seem like it now, but time has a way of healing these things.”

You took another sip of your drink, hoping he was right. “I hope so.”

“If you need anything, just ask me, okay?” he said, smiling at you before going back to his task.

You took another sip of your drink, hoping he was right. “I hope so.”

You nodded, trying to muster a smile in return. As the Rick moved away, you felt the weight of the day pressing down on you again. Lost in thought, you barely noticed the person sitting next to you until you felt their presence.

Turning slightly, you saw Joel, his expression unreadable. Your heart skipped a beat, a mix of emotions surging through you, all the pain, anger, and a lingering trace of love.

Perhaps he was here to apologize.

Joel cleared his throat, looking almost as uncomfortable as you felt. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty.

You stared at him, trying to gauge his intentions. “Hey,” you replied, your voice strained.

Joel shifted in his seat, glancing at the drink in front of you. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You shrugged, not trusting yourself to say much more. The sight of him so close, the contrast memories of his tender touch last night and the harsh words from the morning still fresh, made it hard to breathe.

He took a deep breath, his eyes finally meeting yours. “Look, about this morning…I was asking myself if I should let my door open tonight for you to come in the lure or something?”

The laugh he made after that cracked your already broken heart. The sound was harsh, cruel, and it cut through you like a knife. Your eyes widened in disbelief, and you felt your entire body tense.

“You think this is funny?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, trembling with hurt and anger. “You think what happened between us is something to joke about?”

Joel’s laughter died on his lips as he saw the hurt and anger in your eyes. “I- “

“What did you mean? you interrupted, your voice rising despite your efforts to keep it steady. “Because it sure as hell feels like you’re entertaining yourself by making jokes right now.”

Joel's face twisted into a bitter expression. “What do you expect me to say? That I suddenly remember everything and I'm head over heels for you? Life doesn't work that way, princess”

Your heart sank further, the cruelty of his words stinging more than you wanted “You don’t have to be cruel to be funny, Joel. You could at least try to understand what I’m going through.”

He leaned back, crossing his arms defensively. “Understand what? That you’re upset because you tried to rewrite a history that doesn’t exist between us? I’m sorry, but I can’t change how I feel—or don’t feel.”

You shook your head, feeling an anger bubbling within you. “You don’t get it.” You said, simply. Taking a seat on the stool, again.

Joel’s expression hardened. “You’re too busy living in a fantasy to see that whatever you think happened between us is over. I don’t remember it, and I don’t care to. Move on.”

You looked at him, fighting the tears. “I will move on from you. You’re not that important.” You looked towards the direction he had come from, not breaking the façade. You immediately spotted Lori who seemed amused at Joels treating you badly. “Go back to your woman, Miller”

Joel’s jaw tightened at your words, and he leaned in closer, his voice low and laced with anger. “You know what? I will. At least she knows where we stand. Unlike you, clinging to some fantasy that never existed.”

Your vision blurred with anger and hurt as you stared at him. “You really think you’re better than me.”

He smirked, a cruel glint in his eyes. “I’m done with your drama.”

The words hit you like a slap, and before you could stop yourself, you balled your hand into a fist and swung at him. The punch landed squarely on his jaw, causing him to stagger back, a look of shock and pain flashing across his face.

The bar fell silent as everyone turned to witness the commotion. Joel touched his jaw, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you, anger and something else—something more vulnerable—flickering in his gaze.

“Don’t you ever talk to me like that again” you spat, your voice trembling with the intensity of your emotions. “You are the worst mistake I’ve done here.”

Joel's eyes blazed with a mix of anger and shock, but he didn’t say anything. You could see his jaw clenching, and the vulnerability in his eyes vanished, replaced by a cold, hardened look. The silence in the bar was deafening, every eye on you.

You didn’t wait for his response. You turned on your heel and marched towards the door, your heart pounding in your chest. The weight of your emotions threatened to overwhelm you, but you refused to let Joel see you break down.

As you pushed the door open, the cool night air hit your face, offering a small respite from the intensity of the bar. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the tears you had been holding back finally spilled over. You wiped them away angrily, not wanting to show any more weakness.

As you stormed out into the night, the tears mingling with the cool air, you heard the door swing open behind you. Heavy footsteps quickly followed, and you knew who it was before you even turned around.

"Hey," Tommy called out, his voice filled with concern. "Wait up."

You spun around to face him, your anger and hurt bubbling over. "What do you want, Tommy?" you snapped, your voice trembling with emotion. "Did you come to see the fallout of your brother's words?"

Tommy stopped a few feet away, his hands raised in a placating gesture. "I came to check on you," he said softly. "I saw what happened in there. Are you okay?"

You laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and broken. "Do I look okay to you, Tommy? Your brother just ripped my dignity there?”

Tommy's eyes were filled with sympathy. "I know Joel can be a real asshole sometimes. But he's just confused. This whole memory thing has messed with his head."

You shook your head, the tears streaming down your face. "No, Tommy. This isn't his memory. He doesn't care about me. He never did. He never will”

Tommy took a step closer, his expression pained. "That's not true. I know my brother, and I know he cared about you. He's just scared. He doesn't know how to handle this."

You scoffed, the anger boiling over. “Care about me?” you laughed. “He was just dumfounded. What you saw inside is the real him.”

Tommy's face twisted with concern, his eyes pleading for you to understand. “Look, I know it seems like that right now, but Joel’s been through a lot. This memory thing has him all messed up.”

You shook your head, your voice trembling. “No, Tommy. You didn’t hear the things he said. He thinks I took advantage of him. He doesn’t remember any of the good times, any of the moments we shared. He just sees me as some... some opportunist.”

Tommy sighed deeply, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know what to say. Joel’s always been stubborn, and this whole situation is making it worse. But you’re not alone in this. We all care about you.”

“Caring about me doesn't fix what he did," you said, your voice breaking. "He treated me like I was nothing.”

“I get it. I really do,” Tommy replied, his voice softening. “Just... give it time. Maybe things will get clearer.”

“Time won’t change what he said. It won’t change how he made me feel,” you replied, the bitterness in your voice evident.

Tommy opened his mouth to speak but then closed it, realizing there were no words that could ease your pain. He took a step back, giving you space. “I’m here if you need me. Just remember that.”

“I don’t need the baby miller protecting me.” You spoke. “From now on, I’m just the nurse and if you need me patrolling, I don’t want Joel near me.”

Tommy's face fell slightly, but he nodded, understanding the gravity of your words. "Alright. I'll make sure to arrange things so you don't have to cross paths with him."

You could see the concern in his eyes, but you didn't have the energy to address it. "Thank you," you said, your voice hollow. "I need to be alone now."

Tommy hesitated for a moment, then gave a small nod. "Take care of yourself, alright?" He turned and walked back towards the bar, leaving you standing alone in the quiet night.

As you watched him go, you felt a mixture of relief and sadness. The night air was cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside you. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to find some semblance of comfort.

Turning away from the bar, you started walking, not sure where you were heading but knowing you needed to move. Each step felt heavy, but you forced yourself to keep going. You would find a way to heal, even if it felt impossible right now.

One step at a time, you told yourself again. One step at a time.

Week one.

You had promised yourself to not having. And Joel had had started to have punctuating headaches.

When he arrived, he noticed another guy standing where you used to be. The unfamiliar face caught him off guard, and a sense of unease settled in his stomach.

"Where's the nurse?" Joel asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

The new guy, a young man with sandy hair and a nervous demeanor, looked up from his preparations. "She asked to be reassigned. Said she didn't want to do patrols anymore."

Joel's heart sank. "Did she say why?"

Before the guy could answer, Tommy walked over, overhearing the conversation. "I'll take it from here," Tommy said, looking at the new guy, who nodded and walked away.

Joel turned to Tommy, his expression a mix of confusion and worry. "What's going on, Tommy? Why'd she ask to be reassigned?"

Tommy sighed, crossing his arms. "She didn't want to be around you, Joel.”

Joel felt a pang of guilt and frustration. "I didn't mean for things to get this bad. I was just... I was trying to deal with everything, I think I handled it wrong."

Tommy nodded. "Yeah, you did. And now she’s moving on as you asked her to.”

Joel's chest tightened at Tommy's words. "I didn't think she'd actually was…I- I thought she’d... I don’t know, understand.”

"Understand what, Joel?" Tommy asked, his tone sharper than usual. "That you were scared and hurt, so you took it out on her? You made your bed, now you’ve gotta lie in it."

Joel ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of his mistakes. “Okay what’s so wrong? Since when she is in love with me?”

“Did you know she was the one who brought you back here when you feel and hit your head so hard you forgot about her? Or about all this past year?” Tommy said exasperated, “She was there for you every single day and man, she was scared of letting you in because she knew all this was going to happen.”

Joel's mind reeled as Tommy's words sank in. "She brought me back?" he echoed, a wave of guilt washing over him.

"Yeah," Tommy said, his voice heavy with frustration. "She did everything for you. Every single day. And you just pushed her away like she meant nothing."

Joel felt his heart constrict. He had been so consumed by his own confusion and pain that he hadn’t stopped to consider what she had gone through. "I didn't know. I didn't remember."

"That’s the point, Joel. You didn't remember, and instead of trying to understand, you lashed out at her."

Joel nodded slowly, trying to absorb the pieces of new information.

"You can't just fix this with a few words, Joel.” Tommy added, as if he had just read his brother’s mine. “She had gone through much already.”

“What do you mean by that?” Joel asked, concern came from nowhere.

Tommy sighed deeply, looking away for a moment before meeting Joel's gaze again. "She went through hell before she even got here, Joel.”

Tommy’s words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of unspoken pain. Joel's brow furrowed as he tried to grasp what his brother was saying.

"What do you mean?" Joel asked, his voice low and hesitant, the concern now unmistakable.

Tommy looked at him for a long moment, as if debating whether to reveal something he wasn’t sure Joel was ready to hear. Finally, he sighed, his expression softening with a mix of empathy and frustration.

"She was on her own for a long time before she found Jackson," Tommy began, his tone measured. "Lost her family, everyone she ever cared about. Saw things that would break most people. But she survived. She made it here, and despite everything, she decided to stay and help us. She didn’t have to, but she did. And when you came back hurt and lost, she put everything into helping you, even though she knew it was a risk."

Joel felt a lump forming in his throat as Tommy spoke. He had been so wrapped up in his own struggles that he hadn’t seen the depth of what she had endured.

"And you," Tommy continued, his voice thick with emotion, "you were her last straw, Joel. She let her guard down for you, and you crushed her.

Joel’s heart ached at Tommy’s words. He felt the sting of regret deep in his chest, knowing that he had only added to her pain.

"Tommy, I..." Joel started, but the words failed him. What could he say that would make any of this right?

"You need to understand something, Joel," Tommy said, his voice firm but not unkind. "She’s not just some woman who’s here to patch us up and send us on our way. She’s a survivor, just like us. And she deserves a hell of a lot better than what you gave her."

Joel nodded, feeling the full weight of his actions pressing down on him. He realized now just how much he had taken for granted, how much he had failed to see.

That same afternoon, the weight of his guilt and determination pressing heavily on his chest, Joel made his way to the infirmary. He had rehearsed what he would say a hundred times in his head, but the closer he got, the more uncertain he felt. He needed to talk to you, to apologize, to start making things right.

When he arrived, he hesitated at the door, taking a deep breath before pushing it open. The familiar smell of antiseptic and the soft hum of activity greeted him as he stepped inside.

You were at the far end of the room, organizing supplies and preparing to leave for the day. Your back was turned to him, and for a moment, he just stood there, unsure of how to start. But then you sensed his presence and turned around, your eyes meeting his.

For a brief second, something flickered in your gaze—recognition, maybe even surprise—but it was quickly replaced by a cold, distant expression.

"Hey," Joel said, his voice sounding more tentative than he intended.

You didn’t respond right away. Instead, you continued with what you were doing, organizing a stack of medical supplies. It was clear you were trying to keep busy, to avoid engaging with him.

"Can we talk?" Joel asked, taking a cautious step closer.

You paused, your hands stilling for a moment before you turned to face him fully. Your expression was unreadable, your eyes guarded. "I'm busy, Joel," you said, your tone clipped and distant.

Joel felt a pang in his chest at your coldness, but he knew he deserved it. "I know. I just... I wanted to apologize. For everything. I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry."

You looked at him for a long moment, your expression hard. "I don’t need your apologies," you replied, your voice steady but laced with an edge of bitterness. "What’s done is done."

Joel swallowed, feeling the sting of your words. "I understand that, but I still want to make things right. I want to try."

You shook your head, a small, bitter smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "You can’t just fix this with a few words, Joel. You made it clear how you felt. I was so pathetic for seeking tender love in a world like this, and I was so pathetic for accepting it from you."

Joel flinched at your words, the harsh truth of them cutting deep. He opened his mouth to respond, to say something—anything—that might reach you, but you were already moving past him, grabbing your coat and heading for the door.

"Wait," he said, reaching out to stop you, but you brushed past him without a second glance.

"I’m done with this conversation, Joel," you said over your shoulder, your voice cold and final. "If you have something to say, save it for someone who cares or maybe for when you fuck Lori.”

For a long moment, he didn’t move, his heart pounding in his chest as he replayed the conversation in his head. The way you looked at him—so detached, so unlike the sweet person you were—shattered any remaining hope he had of mending things between you. Joel clenched his fists frustration welling up inside him.

And with that, you were gone, leaving Joel standing in the infirmary, the empty room echoing with the silence of everything left unsaid.

Week two.

The distance between you and Joel grew even wider. You kept yourself busy with your duties at the infirmary, throwing yourself into work to avoid thinking about him. Jackson was large enough that it wasn’t hard to avoid each other, especially since you made a point to steer clear of any places where you might run into him.

Joel, on the other hand, wasn’t faring as well. The days felt like they were dragging on, each one heavier than the last. The guilt and the lingering regret of how things had ended between you, was starting to take a toll on him. He found it harder to concentrate on anything, his mind constantly wandering back to you, replaying your last conversation over and over again.

Things hadn’t started bad between the both of you. There was a time, not too long ago, when things between you and Joel had been different—better. When you first arrived in Jackson. He was wary, of course, just as everyone. People with big walls up for protecting the same from the dangers from the outside.

Initially, he had kept his distance, observing you with a cautious eye. But as days turned into weeks, something shifted. You’d taken on the role of a nurse with a quiet determination, and your compassion and dedication gradually began to break through the walls Joel had built around himself.

There was one particular evening when you both found yourselves at a small community gathering. It was one of those special moments for people to unwind and reconnect. Joel, usually reserved and gruff, had shown up with Ellie in tow, and you were surprised to find him engaging in casual conversation, a rare sight indeed.

You and Joel had ended up chatting while sitting around a makeshift bonfire. The conversation had started with practical matters—how best to handle a certain type of injury or a recommendation for new supplies—but soon it evolved into more personal topics. Joel had shared stories from his past life, and you found yourself opening up about your own one.

The old versions of two people trapped in the endless tragedy

The atmosphere was relaxed, and for the first time, you saw a different side of Joel.

Joel was seated across from you, a relaxed look on his face that you rarely saw. His eyes, usually so guarded, were softer tonight. Ellie was nearby, occupied with a makeshift game she’d crafted from scavenged materials.

“So, you actually went through all that trouble for a single, mediocre meal?” you asked, chuckling at Joel’s tale of a particularly botched cooking attempt.

Joel grinned, a rare and genuine smile that lit up his face. “You’d be surprised what we went through to get even a half-decent meal back then. We were pretty desperate.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I can’t imagine. I’m just grateful for what we’ve got now, even if it’s not gourmet.”

Joel nodded in agreement. “Yeah, things are better here. A lot better than they were.”

There was a comfortable silence between you, punctuated only by the crackling of the fire. You glanced at Joel, noticing how his eyes softened as he spoke. “I’m glad you’re here. It’s nice to have someone who understands what it’s like out there.”

Joel met your gaze, his expression sincere. “And I’m glad you’re here too. You’ve done a lot for everyone. For Ellie, especially.”

For Joel, dealing with all of this started to become unbearable the moment migraines hit. They had started as a dull ache, a constant pressure in his head that he could push through if he focused hard enough. But as the days went on, the pain intensified, becoming sharp and unrelenting. The pounding in his skull would come in waves, leaving him dizzy and disoriented. He tried to hide it at first, not wanting anyone to see him weak, but it wasn’t long before people began to notice.

He’d find himself gripping the edges of tables or leaning against walls to steady himself, his vision blurring as the pain surged through him. He hadn’t had migraines like this in years, not since the early days when the world had first gone to hell. But these were different, more intense, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were somehow connected to something else.

Maybe someone, his thoughts screamed.

Tommy noticed too, of course. He had been keeping a close eye on his brother ever since the confrontation in the infirmary, and it didn’t take long for him to realize that something was wrong.

Joel had just returned from patrol; his face pale and his movements unsteady. As he walked through the door of the house, he winced, his hand pressing against his temple. The migraine had hit him hard, and he was struggling to keep it together.

Tommy was already in the kitchen, grabbing a drink when he noticed Joel’s distress. He set the cup down, crossing the room quickly. “You okay, Joel?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Joel tried to force a casual shrug, but the pain in his head made it difficult. “Yeah, just—” He hesitated, trying to find a plausible excuse. “—just got a bit of a headache. My new patrol partner’s been causing me more stress than usual. You know how it is.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Your new partner? We’ve only had him for a few days. Doesn’t seem like he’d cause this much trouble.”

Joel rubbed his temples more vigorously, trying to stave off the waves of pain. “It’s been rougher than I expected, okay? Just one of those days.”

Tommy didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push the issue further. “Alright, if you say so. But if this keeps up, you should get it checked out. Don’t let it go too long.”

Joel nodded, grateful for Tommy’s concern but unwilling to admit the full extent of his struggle. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just need to rest.”

Joel couldn’t even convince himself. He just didn’t find strength to face you.

That evening, the bar was lively, filled with the hum of conversation and laughter. Joel sat at a corner table with Lori, Tommy, and Maria. He was trying to focus on the conversation, but the throbbing pain in his head made it difficult. Lori, noticing his discomfort, kept a concerned eye on him, occasionally reaching out to touch his arm reassuringly.

As you walked in, the bar’s ambient noise seemed to momentarily quieten, and Joel’s gaze instinctively shifted toward you. You moved with purpose, but your demeanor was cold and distant. Tommy and Maria spotted you first and greeted you warmly.

“Hey, it’s good to see you,” Tommy said, waving you over.

Maria offered a friendly smile. “Yeah, come join us.”

You returned their greetings with a nod, but when your eyes met Joel’s, you turned your attention elsewhere, ignoring him completely. Joel shifted in his seat, trying to hide his discomfort, but the strain was visible in the tense lines of his face.

Lori noticed the awkwardness and frowned. “You could at least hide you jealously and stop being a mean bitch” she said to you, loud enough for everyone around to shut.

The bar’s noise seemed to drop as Lori's words cut through the air. You felt every eye on you as the tension escalated.

You turned to Lori, your face hardening. “I’m not here to entertain you or play nice.”

Lori’s face flushed with anger. “Well, if you can’t be civil, then maybe you shouldn’t be here at all.”

Joel, trying to defuse the situation, interjected, “Lori, that’s enough.” His voice was strained, both from the growing migraine and the emotional weight of the confrontation. “We don’t need to make this any worse.”

“No! I’m tired of this bitch being a pain to us just because you don’t love her back” she continued, calling you out.

Joel’s face tightened with a mix of frustration and pain. “Lori, seriously, stop. This isn’t helping anyone.”

You stood tall, your voice icy as you spoke. “I don’t need a lecture from you or anyone else. I’ve been nothing but professional, and this—” you gestured between yourself and Joel, “—is a personal matter. I’m done being the target of everyone’s frustration.”

Joel’s gaze wavered, his eyes reflecting the hurt from your words. “You don’t have to be like this.”

“No,” you snapped, “I don’t have to be here at all. If you want to know why I’m acting this way, it’s because I don’t want to be around someone who can’t see my worth.” Your voice cracked with emotion. “You can keep Joel. I don’t want a man who can’t appreciate me.”

You sighed, taking a deep breath. “I’m so done with all your pity because the man I’m in love with doesn’t remember loving me. But life moves on, and so do I. I’m done being the center of anyone’s misplaced sympathy.” You sighed a little, embarrassment creeping up your body “I’m just- I want you all to stop talking about me as if I’m a broken little girl, please.”

With a final, resolute glance at the group and the rest of people inside, you turned and walked out of the bar. The door swung shut behind you, the muffled noise of the bar fading as you stepped into the night.

Joel froze there, the harsh sting of your words lingering.

The man I’m in love with.

Why did you even love him?

Joel’s heart pounded in his chest as he processed your words. The sting of your rejection mixed with the searing pain in his head, making it hard to think clearly. He stood frozen for a moment, watching you leave, his mind racing with regret and confusion.

After a few seconds, he shook himself out of his daze. He could feel Lori’s eyes on him, her frustration still palpable. Ignoring her, Joel pushed himself up from the barstool, his movements tense and hurried.

“Sorry, I need to go,” he muttered, his voice rough and distant. He didn’t wait for a response and headed for the door. As he stepped outside, the cool night air hit him, offering a brief reprieve from the oppressive atmosphere of the bar.

Joel saw you standing just outside the bar, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed tightly over your chest. The cool night air seemed to accentuate the solitude you radiated, and the flickering streetlight cast uneven shadows over your face. Joel’s heart ached as he approached, the intensity of his migraine fading into the background compared to the weight of his regret.

He stopped a few feet away, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "Hey," he said, his voice rough but gentle. "I didn't mean to... to make things worse tonight."

You looked up, your eyes meeting his. They were red-rimmed, a sign of the emotional toll the evening had taken. "What do you want, Joel?" Your voice was quiet but edged with defiance.

Joel shifted uncomfortably, the words coming out in a rush. "I know I screwed up. I know I can’t undo what’s been done. But I want you to know that I’m sorry. I was a damn fool, and I didn’t see how much you were hurting."

You shook your head, looking away. "It’s too late for apologies. You made your choices."

“I know,” Joel admitted, his voice heavy with sorrow.

“Go back inside to your woman” you said, voice steady yet the truth of the words cut your throat.

Joel looked at you, his eyes filled with an aching with regret and yearning. He could feel the pounding in his head lessen, as if your presence, though tense and fraught with pain, was soothing the storm within him.

He swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. "I don't want to go back inside. I came out here to talk to you. I need to explain—"

You cut him off, your voice colder now. "I don’t want explanations, Joel. I want you to be honest with yourself and with me."

Joel's expression faltered, his usual resolve wavering under the weight of his migraine and the emotional strain. "I don't know what to say," he admitted quietly. "Every time I try to make things right, I just seem to make it worse."

"Look," Joel said, taking a step closer, though he kept a respectful distance. "I know I can’t fix everything right now, and I know I’ve hurt you more than I ever intended. But if there's any chance at all to mend things, I want to try. I need to try."

You glanced at him, feeling the strange mix of emotions. His presence, his apology, even his struggle, created a confusing pull. You nodded, not trusting your voice.

"Just... take things slow," you said finally, your voice softening slightly. "Show me, don’t just tell me."

You gave him one last, lingering look before turning away, the night air feeling strangely lighter as you walked back toward your house. Joel watched you go, a fragile sense of relief mingled with the lingering weight of his migraine.

Joel nodded, his heart aching.

Week three

The situation between you and Joel remained tense and unresolved. Despite the brief moment outside the bar, there was still an emotional chasm between you two. Meanwhile, Joel's migraines continued to worsen, each one more debilitating than the last. The pain had become a constant companion, gnawing at him, making it difficult to focus on anything else.

Tommy had been watching his brother closely, his concern growing with each passing day. He had noticed how Joel winced at the slightest noise, how he gripped the edges of tables to steady himself, and how he often retreated to dark corners to try and alleviate the pain. Tommy knew something had to give, and he wasn't sure how much longer Joel could keep this up, especially with patrols still on the agenda.

During the morning, as the patrol assignments were being handed out, Tommy pulled Joel aside. “You sure you’re up for this?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. “These migraines… they’re getting worse, Joel.”

Joel nodded, though the movement sent a sharp pain through his temples. “I’ll be fine,” he muttered, not wanting to admit how bad things had really gotten. “Just need to keep moving, keep my mind off it.”

Tommy sighed, not entirely convinced. “Alright, but I’m pairing you up with someone who won’t hesitate to call for backup if things go south.”

Joel raised an eyebrow, wondering who Tommy had in mind. His answer came when you walked into the room, your expression unreadable as you glanced at Tommy, then at Joel.

“You’re on patrol with Joel today,” Tommy said, his tone firm, leaving no room for argument. “Consider it part of the consequences for that little outburst at the bar the other night.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but then closed it, seemingly deciding against saying anything. Instead, you simply nodded, surprising both Tommy and Joel.

Due to your situation with Joel, you would have argued, pushed back, but you didn’t. Whether it was out of a sense of duty, or because you had your own reasons for going along with the assignment, neither man could tell.

Joel looked at you, his expression hard to read. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but he knew that this patrol was going to be anything but ordinary. The tension between you two was palpable, and the fact that you hadn’t fought the assignment left him uneasy.

As the two of you geared up and headed out, the silence between you was thick, neither of you willing to break it first. The path ahead was familiar, but the atmosphere was charged with unresolved emotions and the weight of things left unsaid.

As you and Joel prepared to head out for patrol, Tommy pulled you aside, his expression serious. “Listen, I know things are tense between you two, but if Joel starts feeling bad, you come back immediately. No heroics, no pushing through it. Understood?”

You nodded, not meeting Tommy’s eyes. “Understood,” you replied, your tone neutral. The truth was, you didn’t know how you felt about being on patrol with Joel, but you weren’t going to argue with Tommy’s orders.

Tommy looked at you for a moment, as if he wanted to say more, but he held back. Instead, he just gave you a small nod before turning back to Joel, who was adjusting his gear a few feet away.

Joel caught Tommy’s eye, and there was a silent exchange between the brothers—Tommy’s concern evident, and Joel’s stubborn determination clear.

Once outside the gates, the silence stretched between you and Joel, heavy and uncomfortable. The forest around you was quiet, the only sound was the crunch of your boots on the dirt path. You kept your eyes ahead, focused on the task at hand, but you couldn’t help but be aware of Joel’s presence beside you.

As you walked, you noticed something strange. Joel, who had been rubbing his temples and wincing in pain earlier, seemed to be a bit more at ease. The tight lines of pain on his face had softened, and he wasn’t clutching his head like he usually did.

You didn’t want to think too much about it, but you couldn’t help but wonder if your presence had something to do with it.

Joel, too, was aware of the change. He had been bracing himself for another wave of pain, expecting the migraine to hit hard as it had been for days now. But instead, he felt… better. The pain was still there, lurking in the background, but it was muted, manageable. And the only thing that had changed was that you were with him.

As you continued walking, the strange shift in the atmosphere didn’t go unnoticed. Joel glanced at you every now and then, his brow furrowing slightly, as if he was trying to figure out what had changed. You kept your focus straight ahead, but the weight of the unspoken tension between you two was hard to ignore.

After a while, you slowed down and finally came to a stop, gesturing for Joel to halt as well. Without saying anything, you walked over to your horse and untied a small bouquet of flowers that had been carefully wrapped and secured to the saddle.

Joel watched, puzzled, as you held the bouquet tightly in your hand. "Just... just wait for me here for a bit," you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. There was a softness to your tone that caught Joel off guard, and he nodded, sensing that whatever you were about to do was important.

You walked a short distance off the path, through the dense trees and underbrush, until you reached a small clearing. The air was still, and the only sound was the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze.

Joel stayed where he was, leaning against his horse, but his eyes followed you, curiosity and concern mingling in his expression.

In the clearing, you knelt down beside a small, unmarked grave, the earth slightly raised from where you had buried your boyfriend two years ago.

You placed the bouquet gently on the grave, your fingers lingering for a moment on the petals. Your heart ached with the familiar pang of loss, the pain of carrying love for someone who was no longer here. It was a pain you had learned to carry with you, but it never really went away.

As you knelt there, a few silent tears slipped down your cheeks, and you quickly wiped them away. This was a private moment, one you hadn’t shared with anyone, not even Joel. He had no idea about the depth of your loss, about the man you had loved and lost before arriving in Jackson.

When you finally stood up and turned back toward the path, Joel was still waiting, his expression unreadable. You walked back to him in silence, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you.

"You alright?" he asked, his voice soft as his eyes studied your expression.

You didn’t answer right away, your fingers brushing lightly against your jacket. Finally, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. "This is where I buried him. My fiancé."

Joel’s heart sank as he remembered the voice of Tommy telling him some things he didn’t even remember about you. And now seeing you here, in this quiet, sacred place, made the weight of your grief all the more real.

"I didn’t know," Joel said, his voice laced with regret. He felt a pang of guilt for not being there for you when you had gone through this, for not understanding just how much you had carried with you all this time. "I’m sorry."

You nodded slowly, still staring at the grave. "It’s been a long time since I’ve come here. I didn’t think I’d be able to handle it, but… I guess I needed to say goodbye again. Properly."

Joel stepped closer, his presence a comforting warmth at your side. He didn’t know what to say, but he knew he needed to be there, to offer whatever solace he could.

"He was a good man," you continued, your voice stronger now. "He was kind, patient, everything I could have asked for. But this world… it takes everything good and leaves you with nothing but memories."

Joel clenched his jaw, feeling the familiar ache of loss that never truly went away. He knew all too well the pain of losing someone you loved, the emptiness that followed, the way it changed you forever.

"He deserved better," you said, your voice cracking slightly. "He deserved a future, a life. But instead… he got this."

Joel rested his hand gently on your shoulder. "I’m sorry," he repeated, the words feeling inadequate but all he could offer.

But instead of finding solace in his touch, you flinched, the weight of everything crashing down on you all at once. The grief, the anger, the overwhelming sense of loss—it all came flooding back, and you couldn’t handle it, not right now.

“Don’t touch me, okay?” you said, your voice trembling as you pulled away from him, putting a small but significant distance between you. You didn’t want to hurt him, but you needed space, needed to breathe without feeling like you were suffocating under the weight of your emotions.

Joel froze, his hand lingering in the air for a moment before he slowly lowered it, the rejection hitting him harder than he expected. He swallowed, trying to push down the rising tide of guilt and pain that your words had stirred up.

“Okay,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He knew better than to push, knew that you needed time to process everything on your own. But it didn’t stop the sting of your words from cutting deep, reminding him of all the ways he had failed before, all the ways he had let the people he cared about slip through his fingers.

“Peter was the only man who deserved my love,” you said, your voice laced with a mix of bitterness and sorrow. The truth of it stung, cutting through the air like a blade. You didn’t mean to be cruel, but the words slipped out before you could stop them, a reflection of the turmoil swirling inside you.

Joel swallowed hard, the hurt in his eyes evident as he processed what you had just said. He knew you were grieving, that you were speaking from a place of pain, but it didn’t make the words any easier to hear. For a moment, he didn’t know how to respond, his mind reeling from the sudden shift between you.

“I get it,” he finally said, his voice tight with emotion. “You loved him. And he was… he was a good man. Better than me.”

He looked away, unable to meet your gaze, feeling the weight of his own inadequacies bearing down on him.

 “Yes, he was” you said without a doubt. “And that killed him.”

Joel’s heart clenched at your words, the blunt truth of them landing like a blow. He kept his eyes fixed on the ground, the weight of your statement pressing down on him. The silence between you grew thicker, charged with the grief and anger that neither of you could fully express.

“He and I had a kid” you confessed, you heart clenched at the memory of that little boy you took care of for five years of your life.

Joel’s head snapped up at your confession, his eyes widening in shock. The weight of what you had just revealed hit him hard, leaving him momentarily speechless.

“He and I… we had a kid,” you repeated, your voice trembling as you forced the words out. Your heart ached at the memory of the little boy you had taken care of, loved, for five years of your life. The pain of losing him, of losing the family you had built, was still fresh, a wound that hadn’t even begun to heal.

Joel’s expression softened, the anger and frustration that had been simmering beneath the surface giving way to something deeper—compassion, understanding, and an overwhelming sense of sorrow for everything you had lost. He could see the pain etched into your features, the way your shoulders slumped under the weight of your grief, and it broke something inside him.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. He didn’t know what else to say.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you quickly wiped them away, not wanting to break down in front of him. “His name was Sam,” you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. “He was just a baby when we found him, abandoned… we took him in, raised him as our own. And then, one day” you sobbed, “They killed him…Those fucking soldiers killed him.”

“Peter and I had planned on how leaving all behind, he had hear about Jackson from a friend, and then he trusted the wrong people.”

Joel’s breath caught in his throat as he listened to you, the horror and anguish in your voice cutting through him like a knife. He could see the pain etched deeply into your features, the way your body trembled with the force of your grief. The image of what you had endured—losing not just your partner but the child you had raised together, taken away in such a cruel and senseless way—was almost too much to bear.

“They killed him,” you repeated, your voice thick with emotion as tears streamed down your face. “They took everything from me… from us. We just wanted to be safe, to give him a life that meant something. But those soldiers… they didn’t care. They saw us as a threat, as nothing more than collateral damage.”

Joel’s fists clenched at his sides, anger surging through him at the thought of what had been done to you and your family. He knew the kind of world you were living in, where trust was a dangerous thing, and hope could be ripped away in an instant. But knowing it didn’t make it any easier to accept.

“I’m so sorry,” Joel murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He wanted to say more, to find the right words to ease your pain, but everything felt inadequate in the face of such a profound loss.

You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself as you continued. “Peter and I… we had it all planned out. We were going to leave everything behind, start over in Jackson. He had heard about it from a friend, and it seemed like the only chance we had. But… he trusted the wrong people.”

Your voice broke again, the sobs coming harder now as you relived the nightmare. “They promised us safe passage, said they’d get us out. But it was a trap. They turned us over to the soldiers, and Sam… he didn’t stand a chance. He was just a little boy. He didn’t even know what was happening…”

Joel felt a lump in his throat, his own emotions threatening to overwhelm him as he watched you unravel before him.

Without thinking, Joel stepped closer, pulling you into his arms and holding you tightly against him. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to offer empty words of consolation. He just held you, letting you cry against his chest, his hand gently stroking your back in an attempt to soothe you.

The world had gone eerily quiet after the gunfire ceased, the only sounds left were your ragged breaths and the distant cries of crows circling overhead. You could still feel the heat from Peter’s body fading beneath your hands, his blood soaking into the earth beneath him. The image of his lifeless eyes, staring blankly up at the sky, was seared into your mind, a horrific reminder that he was gone, that the man you loved, the father of your child, was never coming back.

You had been too stunned to cry, too numb to feel anything beyond the cold realization that you were alone.

Hours seemed to pass in a blur before you finally forced yourself to move. You couldn’t stay there, not with Peter’s body cooling beside you, not with the knowledge that those men might come back to finish what they started. So, you rose on shaky legs, your heart pounding in your chest, and stumbled away from the scene of the massacre, your mind numb as you left him behind.

The sun had begun to set by the time you found the old cabin, hidden deep within the woods. It was small, decrepit, with broken windows and a door that hung askew on its hinges, but it was shelter, and that was all that mattered. You pushed open the door and stepped inside, the musty smell of decay filling your nostrils as you surveyed the dark, empty space.

It felt wrong to be alive, to still be breathing when Peter wasn’t, when Sam wasn’t. But survival was instinctual, and something inside you kept pushing you forward, kept you searching for a way to stay alive, even when all you wanted was to curl up and disappear.

You sank to the floor, your back pressed against the rough wooden wall as the tears finally began to fall. They came slowly at first, like a trickle, but soon they turned into gut-wrenching sobs that echoed through the empty cabin. You clutched your knees to your chest, rocking back and forth as the storm outside began to roll in.

The wind picked up, howling through the trees and rattling the cabin’s fragile walls. Rain began to pour in heavy sheets, drumming against the roof and leaking through the cracks, pooling on the floor around you. Lightning flashed, illuminating the dark interior in brief, blinding bursts, and the thunder that followed was so loud it shook the very foundation of the cabin.

You were alone for the first time in years, truly, devastatingly alone. The weight of that realization crushed you, making it hard to breathe, hard to think of anything other than the emptiness that stretched out before you. The storm outside mirrored the chaos inside you, the violence of it a reflection of the torment that raged in your heart.

Maria and a group of people found you two days later

And you had become terrified of storms ever since.  

You stiffened in Joel’s arms, the overwhelming flood of emotions too much. You couldn’t let yourself be comforted, couldn’t let someone else get close, not after everything you’d lost. The fear of opening up, of allowing yourself to be vulnerable again, was suffocating.

“Don’t,” you whispered, your voice cracking as you stepped back, pulling away from him. “Don’t touch me.”

Joel’s arms fell to his sides, the rejection clear in his eyes as he took a step back, giving you the space you needed. The hurt in his expression was evident, but he didn’t push, didn’t try to reach out for you again.

“You just feel pity because you see me as a broken doll” you said.

Joel’s expression tightened, his brow furrowing as your words cut through the air like a knife. He opened his mouth to respond but closed it again, clearly struggling with how to convey what he was feeling. The accusation hung between you, heavy and bitter, and the silence that followed felt suffocating.

“I don’t—” Joel started, his voice low and rough. He took a breath, trying to gather his thoughts, but the hurt in his eyes was unmistakable. “I don’t see you that way.”

“Then why are you here, Joel?” you demanded, your voice rising with the pent-up frustration and pain. “Why are you trying so hard to be… whatever this is? You didn’t care before, but now you do because I’m broken?”

“How were you so sweet to everyone after what happened?” he finally asked, his voice tinged with a mix of confusion and a hint of disbelief. It was as if he couldn’t comprehend how you managed to keep going, how you could still find kindness within you after everything you’d endured.

You looked at him, your expression softened by the lingering sadness, but there was a strength behind your eyes, a resilience that had kept you moving forward. “Because I didn’t lose them because of you all,” you said quietly, your voice steady despite the pain that laced your words. “I wasn’t going to become angry at the people who gave me another chance.”

The truth of your statement hung in the air, a stark contrast to the turmoil you felt inside. You had chosen to protect the small bit of humanity you had left, to hold onto the kindness that others had shown you when you needed it most. But that didn’t mean the anger, the grief, or the pain had disappeared—it was still there, buried deep, threatening to consume you if you let it.

Joel looked down, his shoulders sagging slightly as he absorbed what you said. He understood the weight of guilt, the way it could twist inside you, making you question everything. He had carried his own burden of guilt for years, but hearing you speak those words, seeing the strength it took for you to hold onto the good in the face of so much loss, it humbled him.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, the words barely above a whisper. “I wish I could take it all back, change what happened. What I did to you and how I treated you the morning you woke up in my bed” he sighed, “Sorry for not remember what happened between us”

You looked at him, your eyes filled with a quiet, resigned sadness. “It doesn’t change anything, Joel. It’s done. I can’t change the past either.”

Joel’s shoulders slumped, the weight of your words settling heavily on him. The finality in your voice, the distance between you, made him feel even more lost, and he turned away, the ache of regret and loss deepening with each step he took.

Joel walked away, his steps heavy and deliberate. The weight of your words hung over him, a constant reminder of the things he couldn’t change, the pain he had caused. Each step felt like a step further from any hope of repairing what had been broken.

You watched him go, the solitude of the moment pressing in around you. The quiet was suffocating, filled with the echoes of the past and the weight of unspoken words. You turned back toward the grave, the memories of what you had lost mingling with the present pain.

A simple affair, torturing you.

+

Grieving the death and grieving the living were taking a tool on you.

Week four

A week had passed since that tense confrontation. The days had been a blur of activity and emotional exhaustion, the storm within you a constant companion. The quiet conversations with others and the daily routines in Jackson offered little distraction from the lingering sadness, but they kept you moving forward, one step at a time.

Everyone could say than a simply affair would dissipate with the time, that each week would make you unlove Joel, but you couldn’t take a complete distance from your lingering feelings.

And Joel? Joel had kept his distance, following your request for space. His presence was felt in the background, a reminder of the unresolved tension and the feelings that had been left hanging in the air. You had seen him around, in passing, but there was an unspoken agreement that he would not intrude upon your space.

He couldn’t bear to face you.

One morning, as you prepared for another day at the infirmary due to Tommy’s request, you found yourself in the familiar surroundings of the clinic. The routine was a small comfort amidst the chaos of your emotions. The soft hum of medical equipment and the scent of antiseptic filled the air, offering a sense of order and control.

As you were organizing supplies and checking on your patients, a familiar voice broke through the calm. “Hey.”

You looked up from your tasks to see Joel standing in the doorway, his expression a mix of hesitation and resolve. He seemed slightly out of place in the clinical setting, but there was a determined look in his eyes.

“Joel,” you greeted, your voice steady but tinged with surprise. “What are you doing here?”

Joel took a step inside, his gaze scanning the room before settling on you.

“I’ve been trying to find the right time to give this to you,” Joel said, his voice a bit rough, as if he was struggling to find the right words.

Curiosity mingled with the apprehension you felt. “What is it?”

Joel took a deep breath, stepping closer but still maintaining a respectful distance. “It’s a little something I thought might help. I know it doesn’t fix anything, but I wanted to offer it to you anyway.”

You hesitated for a moment before reaching out to take the package from him. It was small and wrapped simply, the gesture surprisingly thoughtful given the circumstances. You carefully unwrapped it, revealing a worn leather-bound journal. The cover was embossed with a delicate pattern, and as you opened it, you found pages filled with blank lines, waiting for your thoughts and feelings.

“You can write on it,” Joel said softly. “And I thought maybe, if you wanted to, this could be a place for you to put everything that’s been on your mind. It’s not much, but I thought it might help.”

The gesture was unexpected, and as you looked up at Joel, you could see the genuine care in his eyes. It was a small attempt to bridge the gap between you, to offer something meaningful despite the unresolved pain.

You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of gratitude and sadness. “Thank you,” you said quietly, your voice almost choked with emotion. “It’s… thoughtful.”

Joel nodded, a small, almost relieved smile touching his lips. “I hope it helps, even just a little.”

There was a moment of silence between you, the weight of the past week settling in the air. Joel’s eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of the connection that had once been there, while you felt the tug of conflicting emotions—appreciation for the gesture, but also the lingering pain of his actions.

“How are your migraines doing?” You asked.

Joel looked slightly taken aback by your question, the personal nature of it a stark contrast to the more distant conversation that had been unfolding. He studied your face for a moment, perhaps surprised by your concern.

“They’re getting worse every day,” he admitted, his voice carrying a weight of weariness. “But today, I’m feeling a bit better. It’s been rough, though. The migraines have been relentless.”

You felt a rush of blood to your cheeks, concern and embarrassment at the question. “Tommy mentioned it,” you said quickly, wanting to clarify your source of information. “I just—well, I wanted to know how you’re doing.”

Joel nodded, his eyes softening slightly. “Thanks for asking. It means a lot. It’s been tough, but I’m managing.”

The vulnerability in his admission made you feel a pang of empathy. It was hard to see him struggling, especially when you had your own unresolved feelings and painful memories.

“Well, I’m glad you’re having a better moment today,” you said, your voice steadying as you tried to offer some comfort.

Joel’s expression grew more thoughtful, and he gave a small, appreciative smile. “Yeah, I’m holding onto that. Thanks for checking in.”

The silence between you was charged with unspoken emotions. You both stood there, the weight of your recent conversations lingering in the air. Joel looked like he was about to say something else, but instead, he gave a nod and started to walk away.

“Take care,” you called after him, the words carrying a genuine warmth despite the emotional distance that remained between you.

You had settled onto a barstool, a glass of whiskey in hand. The amber liquid was smooth and comforting, its warmth spreading through you as you took a sip. The effects of the alcohol were starting to take hold, making everything feel just a little more relaxed, a little more bearable.

Joel was at the bar, nursing a drink of his own. He hadn’t been particularly social that night, just sitting in his usual spot, lost in his thoughts. As the evening wore on and you became tipsier, you found yourself drawn to him, the comfort of familiarity outweighing the shyness that normally kept you at a distance.

You slid off your stool and made your way over to Joel, the room spinning slightly as you approached him. “Hey,” you said, your voice a bit louder than intended, carrying the cheerful buzz of someone who’d had a few too many drinks. “Mind if I join you?”

Joel looked up from his glass, his expression a mix of surprise and curiosity. “Sure, have a seat,” he replied, gesturing to the empty stool next to him.

You plopped down beside him, the warmth of his presence surprisingly comforting. “You know,” you said, leaning in slightly and grinning, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in here this early before. You’re usually so… serious.”

Joel chuckled softly, the sound of a low rumble that was both soothing and grounding. “Yeah, I guess I am. Just needed a drink tonight.”

In the afternoon, the usually calm atmosphere of the infirmary was disrupted by the sound of the door swinging open with a sense of urgency. Joel stumbled inside, his face pale and etched with pain. He moved slowly, his usual steady gait faltering under the weight of his unbearable migraines.

You looked up from your work, your heart sinking at the sight of him. He was clearly in distress, his eyes squeezed shut as if trying to shut out the world. You quickly set aside what you were doing and hurried over to him.

“What do you want?” you asked, intending to sound too rude.

“I—” Joel started, but the words were interrupted by a sharp grimace of pain. “I can’t take it anymore. The migraines… they’re just too much.”

“From one to ten? How much is the pain?” you asked.

“What’s that bullshit?” He cried out.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your own frustration in check. Despite the roughness of Joel’s response, you could see that he was in genuine distress, and you needed to get a handle on his pain level to help him effectively.

“It’s just a way to measure how bad the pain is,” you explained, your voice firm but compassionate. “On a scale from one to ten, where one is no pain and ten is the worst pain, you’ve ever felt, where are you right now?”

Joel clenched his teeth, his face twisted with agony as he tried to focus. “It’s… it’s an eight,” he finally managed to say through gritted teeth.

He had saved that ten.

 The ten was the amount of pain he had when he lost Sarah.

A ten was the pain his heart felt when he looked at you from the distance.

You nodded, quickly assessing the situation. “Alright, I’m going to get you something stronger for the pain. Try to sit down and breathe slowly. I’ll be right back.”

As you hurried to prepare a stronger medication, you felt the weight of the past few weeks pressing heavily on you. The bitterness in your words and his pain seemed to intertwine, creating a tense atmosphere that was hard to ignore. But your focus remained on getting Joel the relief he needed.

You quickly gathered the necessary medication and made your way back to Joel, who had seated himself on one of the examination tables. As you approached, you noticed his breathing was uneven, and his eyes were squeezed shut as if he was trying to block out the pain and your presence.

"Let me check your head," you said softly, your voice gentle despite the tension that hung between you. "I need to make sure there's nothing else going on."

Joel nodded slightly, his face still contorted in discomfort. As you leaned in to examine his head, your proximity made his breath catch in his lungs. The closeness between you seemed to amplify the charged atmosphere, making the air around you feel heavy.

You carefully placed your hands on his temples, your touch light but firm as you assessed his condition. Joel's breath became shallow and uneven, a sign that he was acutely aware of your closeness. He tensed under your touch, the intensity of his pain mixed with the vulnerability of the moment.

"How's that feel?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady as you moved your fingers over his forehead and the sides of his head.

Joel swallowed hard, his eyes still closed as he tried to focus on your touch rather than the pain. "Feels… a bit better," he managed to say, though his voice was strained. "Just… don’t know if I can handle this much longer."

You gave a reassuring nod, trying to offer comfort despite the lingering tension. "You're doing great. The medication should help soon. Just hang in there a little longer."

You both could feel your breathing mingling together, the agony of the closeness taking everything from you.

Joel closed his eyes for a bit, feeling you scent and your fingertips on his temples. In the haze of his agony, there were fleeting glimpses of a night that felt both distant and achingly familiar. He remembered the warmth of your touch, the softness of your lips against his. The kiss you had shared the night before he got his memory back began to resurface, bringing with it a surge of emotions he had long tried to bury.

The kiss had been tender. Joel could almost feel the echo of that moment now, a soft, lingering taste of intimacy that was both comforting and heartbreaking.

He remembered the way you had looked at him, the way your eyes had softened with unspoken words. The image of your face, so close to his, the way you had smiled before the kiss, replayed in his mind with a clarity that cut through the pain. It was as if your closeness was pulling these memories to the surface, forcing him to confront them once more.

Joel’s breath caught as he recalled the warmth of your lips, the way it had felt to hold you close. It was a vivid contrast to the overwhelming pain he was experiencing now, and it made him realize just how much he had missed and lost. The memory of that kiss, the feeling of being connected to you, made his heart ache with a mix of longing and regret.

He let out a slow, shaky breath, trying to ground himself in the present while the memories swirled around him. As much as the past few weeks had been a struggle, this moment of closeness with you was stirring up feelings he had tried to keep buried. Joel’s eyes opened slightly, looking at you with a vulnerability that he hadn’t shown before.

“Sun…” he started, his voice barely above a whisper.

The sound of "Sun" coming from his lips felt almost foreign, yet deeply familiar. It was a term of endearment he had used before his memory loss, one that had held a special place between you two.

“Sun…” he repeated, the word carrying tenderness and longing.

Your heart skipped a beat, the nickname a bittersweet reminder of the bond you had shared. It was a small yet significant piece of the past surfacing, offering a glimmer of connection despite everything that had happened.

You felt a rush of conflicting emotions, the glimmer of hope mingling with a deep-seated fear of revisiting old wounds. The nickname, the touch, the faint echo of past affection—it all stirred up feelings you weren't sure you were ready to confront.

Taking a steadying breath, you stepped back, your hand moving quickly to hand him the medication. “Here,” you said, your voice steady as you handed him the small packet of pills. “This should help with the pain. You should head home and rest.”

Joel looked up at you, a flicker of understanding and disappointment in his eyes. He could sense the shift in your demeanor, the way you were putting distance between you both. “You sure you don’t need any help?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

You shook your head, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “No, I’m fine. Just… please, go home. A storm is coming, and you should get back before it hits.”

Joel hesitated for a moment longer, but the look in your eyes told him that you needed space, that pushing further would only cause more pain. With a reluctant nod, he took the medication and turned to leave, his steps heavy with the weight of what was left unsaid.

As he walked out of the infirmary, you watched him go, the storm outside a stark parallel to the storm brewing inside you. You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to steady yourself against the wave of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. The fleeting connection, the memories stirred up—it was all too much to handle right now.

You were a bit tipsy, the effects of the whiskey making your steps a little unsteady. Joel walked beside you, his presence a steady anchor amidst the haze of your inebriation. You were both quiet, the conversation from the bar having dwindled into comfortable silence.

As you approached your house, you turned to him, a small, tipsy smile playing on your lips. The intimacy of the evening and the warmth of his proximity were too comforting to ignore. Without thinking, you leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss against his lips. The action was impulsive, driven by a mix of affection and the blurred boundaries of alcohol.

Joel's reaction was immediate. He responded to the kiss, his arms finding their way around you as he deepened the connection. There was a brief moment where the world seemed to hold its breath, the kiss a sweet and tender promise of something more.

When you finally pulled back, your faces were flushed, and you looked at him with a mixture of uncertainty and contentment. Joel’s eyes were filled with a mix of surprise and warmth, the kiss having ignited something within him that he hadn’t anticipated.

“Good night, Joel,” you murmured, your voice soft and slightly slurred as you turned to go inside.

Joel watched you enter your house, his thoughts swirling in the wake of the kiss. He felt a strange blend of hope and confusion, uncertain about what the kiss meant for both of you. But the feelings were there, undeniable and strong.

The morning light streamed through the curtains, casting a soft glow in your bedroom. You woke up with a throbbing headache, the remnants of last night a blurry haze. As you shuffled through your routine, the details of the previous evening remained frustratingly out of reach. The bar, the tipsy laughter, Joel walking you home—these were fragments, but the kiss itself was a complete blank.

When you encountered Joel later that day, you greeted him cheerfully, assuming nothing out of the ordinary had happened. “Hey, Joel. How’s it going?”

Joel’s response was curt, his eyes avoiding yours. “Hey. I’m alright.”

You noticed the shift in his demeanor, the coldness in his tone. It was as if he was keeping you at arm's length, his usual warmth replaced with a frigid distance. You tried to brush it off, attributing it to a possible bad mood or personal issue.

Joel had resolved never to bring up the kiss, his feelings of hurt and confusion simmering beneath the surface. He’d come to see the incident as a miscommunication, a misunderstanding that he’d decided to keep buried rather than confront. The bitterness of feeling forgotten and dismissed had solidified into a quiet, unspoken rift between you.

Joel found himself unable to shake the feeling of the day's events. The migraine had ebbed slightly during the patrol, but as soon as he was back in his house, the pain returned, gnawing at him with a persistent, dull ache.

The house was quiet, save for the steady patter of rain against the windows. The storm outside was fierce, the wind howling and the rain pouring down in relentless sheets. Joel’s mood matched the tempest outside—stormy, unsettled.

As he was trying to organize his gear and get ready for bed, his eyes fell upon something on a chair near the door. It was the blouse you had lost that morning when he pushed you away from him, a soft, familiar fabric that he recognized immediately. He picked it up, holding it gently, and his mind replayed that morning events.

Joel held the blouse up to his face, breathing in deeply. The scent was faint but unmistakable—a mix of the outdoors, a hint of your perfume, and something more personal, something that reminded him of you. As the scent reached his senses, it hit him with a wave of emotions he hadn’t fully processed until now. He felt a rush of regret and longing. The migraine that had been a constant presence in his head now seemed to fade slightly as he held the blouse. The emotional weight of his actions, the pain he had caused you, and the gulf that had grown between you all came rushing back

You sat in the dimly lit living room of your small house, wrapped in a blanket, trying to find some semblance of comfort amidst the chaos outside. The storm had intensified, the wind howling and the rain slashing against the windows with a ferocity that made the walls tremble. Every rumble of thunder and flash of lightning felt like a jolt to your already frayed nerves.

You tried to focus on something—anything—to distract yourself from the fear that had settled deep in your chest. The living room was sparsely decorated, the bare walls and simple furnishings reflecting the practical, no-frills life you had tried to build for yourself. But tonight, it all seemed cold and empty, unable to offer you the comfort you so desperately needed.

You glanced at the clock. It was well past midnight, and sleep was elusive. The noise of the storm outside seemed to drown out any thoughts of rest. You wrapped your arms tightly around yourself, trying to stave off the chill that had little to do with the temperature and everything to do with the lonely feeling that had enveloped you.

As you huddled on the couch, the flashes of lightning illuminated the room in brief, stark bursts. Each flash cast eerie shadows on the walls, making the storm outside feel even more menacing. You found yourself jumping at every crack of thunder, your heart racing with each one.

Part of you wanted to reach out to someone, but who? The distance between you and Joel felt insurmountable, and you had made it clear that you wanted to be left alone.

The living room was filled with the sound of the storm, punctuated only by your occasional sighs and the rustling of the blanket around you. You tried to focus on breathing deeply, calming yourself in the midst of the chaos. But as the storm raged on, so did the turmoil within you.

It was during a particularly intense flash of lightning that you heard a knock on the door. Your heart leaped into your throat, and you froze. Another knock, louder this time, followed by a faint call. “It’s Joel. Can I come in?”

The voice was muffled by the storm, but it was unmistakable. Your emotions were a whirlwind of confusion and surprise. You hesitated, wondering why he would come here, why he would seek you out now, but the desperation in his voice made you move towards the door.

You opened it cautiously, the cold wind rushing in and mingling with the warmth of the living room. Joel stood there, drenched from the rain, his face lined with worry and a mixture of other emotions that you couldn’t quite place.

“Joel,” you said, barely above a whisper. “What are you doing here?”

He looked at you with an expression that was a mix of regret, concern, and something softer that you couldn’t quite define.

Words weren’t need for moments like these. Two hearts beating as the silence felt like freedom of the remised prisoner love victim of the passage of time, the destiny or perhaps the fate of cursing spells.

It was there for you to see it and it was there for him to see it, but blindness was his curse. Not remembering was his curse. Joel wasn’t incapable of loving someone, but he was terrified of the pieces of the old him coming to the present where losing people was a daily occurrence.

Joel was terrified of loving and losing the last flame of goodness left in this mad world that had tainted people, but you. There was a pure innocence in your eyes, in your actions and in your kindness and he had come to face his old him through you, the old him that had died with his daughter years ago.

Joel’s gaze lingered on you, his eyes reflecting the soft light from the flickering candles. His voice was a murmur, almost lost in the howling of the storm outside. “You’re afraid of storms.”, he said quietly, his voice low and gentle. It wasn’t a question. He was stating a fact, something you had confessed to him when the love affair between you was burning. 

You looked at him, the realization dawning on you like the slow break of dawn. “You remember.” You whispered.

And you could only hear the steady beat of your own heart and the sound of Joel’s breathing.

I tagged everyone interested in part 2 but I couldn't tag everyone because all got mixed () if you don't want to be tagged you can tell me, if you want to be tagged, you can also tell me

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@missladym1981

[milkteabinniechan]

♡Dear Lover - Hyunjin

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST

pairing: fiancè Hyunjin x fem! reader

summary: Your parents have picked a husband for your sister and the two of them have been writing love letters back and forth for years before they meet on their wedding day. There is just one problem: you've been the one sending the letters to her future husband and now you're in love!

warnings: just fluff! some angst, drama, very soft hyunjin, lovesick reader

“Maybe start with why you were the one writing me the letters and not your sister?” Hyunjin’s nostrils flared as he spoke. But his tone wasn’t angry, just confused. You looked exactly how he pictured you from your letters. A softness about you that translated through your words.

“She asked me to. In the beginning, she didn’t want to write to you. So, she asked me to do it instead to make our parents happy.” You pulled at the hem of your shirt, twisting it this way and that while your eyes stayed fixed on the ground. “Please, don't be upset with her.”

Hyunjin stepped back for a moment. His eyes searched yours as the two of you finally locked onto one another. Eyes that he had pictured late at night. A face he had only seen in his dreams. Everything he had said in the letter was true. He was in love, just not with your sister. But the wedding was planned, the invitations sent out.

It was springtime when the letters first began. You remember the sound of birds chirping outside your bedroom window when your parents made the announcement that your sister was to be wed on the year of her 21st birthday.

“But I don’t want to marry someone I’ve never met!” She screamed. You were only partially paying attention. You were no longer the focus of your parents' attention. You were twenty-four now and practically a spinster. Your sister was going to have her wedding the very next spring. One year. She had one year to comply and accept what was happening.

“We’ve already failed with your older sister, we will not fail with you.” Your father boomed. His fat finger pointed sternly at you.

While your little sister protested for a few weeks, she ultimately agreed upon the marriage if she could at least see who she was to be betrothed to. But letters are all his family would agree to. A stern, traditional family that negotiated the terms of advised letters to be written once a week for one year until the wedding day. Meetings were held in secret by the patriarchs of the two families. Hands were shook and large cigars were smoked in celebration of the upcoming union. Then one cool spring night, your sister came knocking at your door with a favor to ask.

“You’re a writer. Just write the letters for me and make me sound good okay?” She begged, her hands folding together while her eyes pleaded with you.

Reluctantly you agreed. One week after the other, you tried your best to sound like your sister. You wrote about her interests instead of your own. You included her favorite color and her favorite kind of food. But somewhere down the line, you slipped. Hyunjin had written about a favorite book of yours – Little Women. He had written paragraphs discussing the different characters and the depth of their description and diversity from one another. He had gushed about the writing style and the eloquent use of simile and metaphors. And your heart fluttered, fluttered and flipped in a way that was new and exciting. Your next letter was completely you. It was your voice, your thoughts, your ideas. The words just flowed out of you like wine and you would feel almost drunk by the time you signed your sister’s name at the bottom.

Hyunjin would soon write about more personal subjects; his fears and insecurities. Of which you felt a kinship with. You would respond with words of comfort and love, thanking him for being so open and vulnerable with you. You would tell him about a beautiful sunset you saw or the lovely sound that snow made when you take a step early in the morning. Hyunjin would tell you how ready he was to hear that sound. How eager he was to hold you, to hear your laugh and touch your lips at last-

When everything was said and done, you knew the exact moment that things had gone too far. You had said “I love you” in your final letter before the wedding. Hyunjin had responded that he was on his way and that he “loved you more that there were stars in the sky.”

You held that last letter tightly in your hands as the all black town car pulled into the driveway of your family home. You would see him, finally see him, and he would see you. Only you would be a shadow cast behind your sister. Hyunjin could never know that those words were not hers. He would marry her and you would go back to your life before. As Hyunjin slowly stepped out of the car, the sunlight shone through his hair like a beacon. His forearm flexed as he gripped the car door and closed it behind him. He stood still for a moment, his eyes flicking between you and your sister until his gaze finally landed on you. Your sister hastily stepped in front of you and introduced herself. Hyunjin shook his head for a second to break the stare between the two of you before smiling warmly at your sister. He held her tightly, his long arms sweeping around her waist and pulling her close to his chest.

“I am so happy to meet you in person, my love!” He exclaimed, his hand coming up to cradle your sister’s face.

Dinner was a complete blur. The clanking sound of silverware and glasses swirled around your ears while your mind drifted further and further from the dining room. The voices of your family were distant, just an echo of a sound as you attempted to keep your food down. After dinner, Hyunjin and your sister snuck off somewhere in the house to be alone. You made your way up to your room and lied on your bed, willing your brain to erase the last year so the heaviness in your chest would subside.

“Fine! Okay? I didn’t write those stupid letters! But that doesn’t mean anything, right?” your sister shouted from the other side of the wall. You stayed in bed and made your way to the wall that divided your two rooms to see if you could hear anything. “She’s a loser! You don’t want her!” Your sister screamed.

“If she is the one that wrote all those letters, then I do. I do want her.”

Your heart dropped. You moved your head away from the wall and turned to face your bedroom door as you heard footsteps approach.

“Please, don’t be upset with her.”

“I’m not upset with her.” Hyunjin took a step closer, closing the gap between the two of you. “You look just as I imagined.” He whispered, his breath brushing softly against your neck.

Your breath hitched as he moved closer. Your hands move instinctively to his waist. Your hips coming into contact with his as his hands move down your back and come to rest at your sides. He leans into your ear and speaks in a low tone. A secret shared just between the two of you. Something intimate that nothing in this world could penetrate. “You’re the one I want to marry. You’re the bride I have been waiting for.”

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[captainsophiestark]

Don't Believe Everything You Read

Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Fandom: Bridgerton

Day Three Prompt: "I know you better."

Summary: A wannabe Whistledown is posting some awful rumors, but luckily for Anthony, his wife knows him well enough that she doesn't believe them.

Word Count: 1,247

Category: Angst, Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sighed, tightening my hands on the book I was reading and trying to refocus on the words. I'd been having a nice, peaceful morning in Bridgerton house (a truly rare feat) until Eloise and Benedict had started some commotion near the door to the sitting room.

I'd married Anthony almost a year ago now, but I still hadn't learned how to block out his siblings quite as well as he did.

I managed to finish another paragraph before the commotion at the door distracted me again. I glanced at the pair out of the corner of my eye, and found them having a whispered argument, both glancing in my direction every few moments. I sighed. The rest of my story would have to wait until later.

Slowly and quietly, so as not to draw too much attention from the Bridgertons by the door, I makred my page in my book and set it down on the couch. I stood, drifting over toward Eloise and Benedict. Eloise had something in her hand, and it seemed to be the genesis of hers and Benedict's hushed argument. I got a little closer and recognized the shape and style of a scandal sheet.

Eloise and Benedict had gotten steadily more heated in their argument, and when Eloise flailed the paper in my direction, I snatched it out of her hand.

She and Benedict both whirled in my direction, but I'd made it halfway across the room before either of them got a chance to take the paper back.

"Don't read that!" Benedict shouted, chasing after me.

"You have a right to read it, but you might want a bit of a heads up first-"

I cut Eloise off by darting well out of their reach and reading one of the headlines of the scandal sheet.

Viscount Bridgerton Stepping Out On His New Wife?

I snorted and rolled my eyes. I quickly scanned the rest of the article, which went on to talk sensationally about all these rumors surrounding Anthony and a mysterious new mistress. Not a word of it was believable, of course, and at least one of the reports of Anthony strolling at night with a strange woman was just me, wearing new clothes the rest of the Ton hadn't seen yet. I barely made it to the end of the article before I started laughing.

I looked up to find Eloise and Benedict looking at me warily. I just shook my head.

"This is certainly no Lady Whistledown, is it?" The pair raised their eyebrows at me, still tensed like they were worried the laughter would turn to tears. I rolled my eyes. "Oh please, both of you. I know Anthony, I know this is ridiculous. Clearly whoever's writing this nonsense has too much free time on their hands. Or maybe not enough, since they couldn't come up with anything more realistic than this."

"So... you're not upset?" asked Eloise.

"No, El, I'm not. I know the man I married. This," I waved the paper around in my hand, "is just funny."

She and Benedict let out massive sighs as one.

"Well, that's certainly a relief," said Benedict. "I suppose Eloise and I were getting worked up for nothing."

"And likewise, you interrupted my reading for nothing," I said. "You're welcome to stay if you're quiet, but otherwise, I appreciate the laugh, but would appreciate more the return of my peaceful reading space."

"You have chosen the sitting room as your peaceful space," Benedict said. "That might not offer you the highest chance of remaining undisturbed."

"You make a fair point, but you also seemed to want to keep this scandal sheet from me completely, so I think today I can kick you out."

"Fair enough. Eloise?"

"I was supposed to meet Penelope before I found the scandal sheet with the mail. I'm already a bit late," she said with a wave over her shoulder as she headed out of the room. Benedict gave me a teasing bow, then followed his sister out of the room.

I sighed, then settled back in to my original place on the couch. I made it through another few pages before the door of the sitting room went flying open, the door making a loud bang as it slammed into the wall. I jumped and whirled around to find Anthony, looking like an absolute mess as he crossed the room in just a few strides before sliding to his knees before me. His hair stuck up at all angles and his clothes looked disheveled. He took my hands in his and started speaking before I could get a word out.

"My love, it's not true. Not a word of it. I love you, you must know that. I would absolutely never, ever go behind your back, would never even dream of spending time with anyone else-"

"Anthony, my god! Take a breath, what are you talking about?"

"I saw Eloise. She told me you'd read the scandal sheet sent out this morning. But you must know, it was a lie."

"Did you happen to wait for Eloise to tell you my reaction before you raced in here?"

"No. I worried... I didn't want to waste a moment before speaking with you. I promise, I would never do that to you. There's no one else and there never will be-"

"I know! Anthony, believe me, I know." I slid to the ground along with him, chest to chest as I kept his hands held tight in mine. "You think I'd believe some ridiculous wannabe Whistledown telling me you're a cheater? I know you better. I know you best. I know you would never do that to me, that I can trust you, no matter what. Even if Whistledown herself had reported it, I wouldn't have believed a word."

"...Truly?"

"Absolutely! We're rock solid, Anthony. I honestly wouldn't have married you if I didn't trust you."

He sighed, all the tension easing from his body as he slumped forward, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his head on my shoulder.

"I cannot tell you how relieved I am to hear that."

"I'm glad we got your worry cleared up quickly," I said. "Although, if you had paused to talk to Eloise for another moment, she could've told you I started laughing the minute I read those ridiculous reports."

Anthony picked his head up to look at me, pulling me closer to him as he did.

"I'm much happier to have heard it from you directly. Especially since it means I can do this."

He leaned in, a grin on his face, and kissed me. I ran my hands up his back and into his hair, but pulled away after just a moment. Anthony moved to follow me, but I put a hand on his chest to stop him.

"Anthony, we are in the sitting room! Anyone could walk in on us at any moment."

"Good. Then they'll know the rumors are just that, and that nothing could ever come between the two of us."

"Anthony."

"Fine. This is an easy fix as well."

With that, he stood, picking me up and carrying me out of the room. I laughed, not even bothering to mention my book that now lay forgotten on the sofa. Anthony and I had other plans for the rest of our morning, it seemed, and I couldn't say I minded them. Anthony and I were happier than I ever thought we could be, and nothing was going to interfere with that, especially not some ridiculous gossip rag.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

Bridgerton Taglist: @cherrybb-ily

[zreamy]

won't let you go (this time)

pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader

summary: back home for good after a semi-unsuccessful first year at university in a new city, you’re looking forward to getting back into the routines of your old life in the town you grew up in but the one person you’d been desperate to see doesn’t seem too pleased about your return :(

genre: angst.. ......... fluff, smut, college au, exes to lovers, second chance romance, slow burn

warnings: minors dni, british in a way that's not vague (might be vague.. it's hard to tell when ur british), so so long, sad heeseung, long paragraphs..

word count: 36,007 .. (apparently, i'm in a competition with myself to see who can write the longest fic)

playlist: seasons wave to earth, understand keshi

author's note: writing this fic was like pulling teeth and then cooking pasta out of it.. bUT IT'S DONE !!! also one of these scenes is smth i reworked from a fic i posted to wattpad in 2021.. thanks @asahicore for the beta u rock ! and as always be lmk ur thoughts (positive/negative/anything) 🤍

fic taglist: @enhastolemyheart

Lee Heeseung had often imagined what it would be like when he saw you again. 

Sometimes, he envisioned you standing on his doorstep, playing with the cuffs of your sweater. Other times he’d dream up a chance encounter at the local grocery shop, where you’d be distracted and bump the end of your trolley into his. He’d even pictured a sun-soaked vacation, a gorgeous white sand beach where the temperature would be inching past the thirties. You, laying out on a patterned towel, lost in the pages of a book, and your pretty face obscured by its cover. Yet, even with the sun in his eyes and his poor vision, he’d recognise you without a doubt. 

Regardless of circumstance or setting, in all of his hazy daydreams, you’d look up at him with unbridled love in your eyes and say the words he wanted to hear all those months ago: I choose you. 

Heeseung had always imagined that his heart might glow in his chest, through his shirt like something from Jane the Virgin, and you’d know you made the wrong decision. 

But sometimes, typically when in an alcohol-fuelled state of despondence, these images would be rougher around the edges. Heeseung would be hot, with bleach-blond hair and thick dark brows—a walking, talking beacon of sexual energy when you’d see him. In his head, it would happen at a party or a club somewhere, and he’d be too busy talking to another girl to notice you, his arm hanging off of her, lust clear in his eyes. Somehow, even in sweatpants and an old hoodie of his, you’d still look as beautiful as always. 

“Heeseung,” you’d say, completely crushed with tears welling up in your eyes under furrowed brows. “I choose you.”

Reluctantly, he’d draw his eyes away from the girl and notice you, finally, and a smile would spread on his lips, a mean one, condescending. He’d shrug, wrapping his arm tighter around the girl and say, “You’re too late.” He wouldn’t mean it, but he’d say it just to drive you crazy. Make you beg him to take you back for months until he felt you’d suffered enough—as much as he had. 

These thoughts were few and far between and mainly followed by hot, guilty tears rolling down his cheeks because he knew it was his fault. After all, he was the one to let you go.

For now though, the little round table in Mark’s backyard seats four, and, in the arms of a balmy summer night, Heeseung chooses the seat closest to the fence. The garden light is still busted so in his seat of choice, furthest from the kitchen door, he’ll go completely unnoticed but still see anyone who might join him outside.

His phone is freezing when he takes it from his pocket and unsurprisingly holds no notifications beyond the outsiiiide text he’d gotten from Jake before the party started. Through Instagram stories, Heeseung watches the night play out from the perspective of people who are enjoying themselves while ignoring the voice in his head that tells him he could be one of those people if he tried. 

Maybe he was a fool for believing that tonight would go differently and that the boys would keep their ‘bro’s night’ promise for longer than it took to cross the threshold—but it’s not like he blames them. Maybe he was a fool for believing he would find more company than his somewhat abandoned bottle of Peroni that watches him mockingly from the glass table. 

He grimaces after taking a sip from it, remembering that he was only ever carrying it around so his friends wouldn’t feel the need to load him with shots. Now he’s not so sure that would’ve been a bad thing, seeing as he’s completely sober and aware of the tightness in his chest as he scrolls through the text thread he’s had pinned for years. Its end came abruptly; revived only by an ignored blue bubble saying: i heard you’re back home for the summer.. 

Seeing it now, he regrets hitting send even more than he did two weeks ago. Heeseung hates himself for believing the boys when they said it was a good thing that you opened the message right away. “Means she’s thinking of u 2 dude,” was Jake's message to the group chat (along with four bicep emojis and two red exclamation marks). Jay replied: i hope you guys can talk things out! And Sunghoon didn’t say anything. 

All your conversations bring up memories that hurt more than the last but he has to take a break when he reaches a text you sent last January: i had so much fun tonight, hee, idk how to thank u enough :((( i hope ur not in too much trouble.. i love you i love you and i’ll love you forever !!!

He ended up getting grounded for three weeks and lost car privileges for months after staying out four hours past curfew, but he’d do it a million times over if it meant he’d get to see you as happy as you were that night on the two-hour drive back, running your fingertips over the Sharpie autograph of your favourite author on the book’s front page—“Heeseung?” 

His jaw falls slack and his whole body stiffens. If you don’t count old videos in his camera roll, Heeseung hasn’t heard your voice in over a year. The back door slides shut and when he finally lifts his head, he wants to throw up. Even without the glow of the kitchen lights on your face, he’d still be able to make out the cute point of your nose, and the slight curve of your soft lips. Unfortunately, the breakup only seems to have made you even more beautiful and he hates himself for wishing you were having a hard time too. 

“Hey,” you say. “Can I sit?” 

Regaining his mobility, he moves his shoulders in a stiff shrug. The sound of your chair scraping the concrete makes him cringe and he hates that you chose the seat closest to him. 

“I didn’t think you’d be here tonight.” 

Heeseung scoffs, his brows furrowing defensively. “You didn’t think I’d be at my friend’s party?” 

You set your jaw. “Okay.” 

An unbearable silence follows, so heavy he can feel it sitting on his shoulders, weighing him down. There’s no way to know how much time has passed but he feels less tense when you start to hum, drumming your fingers against the table to the beat of whatever song the kitchen door is struggling to muffle. If he doesn’t think too hard about the lingering quiet, it feels like everything is okay between you two. 

His heart races when you giggle. “You still do that?” 

“Do what?” 

You smile before mirroring his expression, puffing up your cheeks and exhaling dramatically a few times. Due to the heat, nothing comes of it but you laugh anyway. “You always liked when it was cold enough out to see your breath. I remember having to nudge you every night of summer to get you to stop.”

To Heeseung, there’s something sinister about the fact that you can so easily bring up a memory you share with him. About the fact that even after what happened, his cheeks heat up just from seeing you grin. He deflates, unable to look at you, finding interest in the label on his bottle instead. It’s slightly curled up at its edge, and he runs his thumb over it a few times before peeling it off completely—with some struggle, leaving a sticky patch in its wake. Under your loaded stare, he folds it a little to make a square before trying to craft a swan or a crane (you were the one who knew these things) from the sticker. 

Your hands are just as soft as he remembers when your fingers touch his, though it shocks him so much he drops the label, immediately withdrawing his hands and, for lack of a better option, sitting on them. Even softer than your hands is your voice when you say, “I don’t want things to be so tense between us.” 

It must be easy, he thinks. For you to say something like that after dumping him. Heeseung wants to laugh, to let his head fall back and cackle from sheer disbelief; you really must have some nerve. Instead, a bitterness, raging and sour, works in his chest, choking the laughter into silence. It pushes his lips into a scowl as he lifts his head to look at you. You’re shivering with your arms crossed over your chest and Heeseung softens. Without thinking, he shrugs off his flannel to drape it over your shoulders, almost regretting it when he fixes his tongue to scold you playfully like he used to. Still too hot for a jacket, right, baby? he wants to say. This is the last time I’m doing this for you, next time you’re on your own. Heeseung figures that somewhere, in another reality where you’re still together, a version of him says these things but continues to give you his flannels and jackets anyway.

He’d give anything to be that Heeseung instead. 

Over the last year, he’s been replacing the clothes in his wardrobe. He noticed that during your time together you steadily wore every t-shirt, flannel, and hoodie he owned. Now, as you thank him with a sincere smile, he realises he’ll have to donate his new favourite shirt too. 

“What’s in your pocket?” you ask, reaching in to find out. A bleak carton of cigarettes sits full in your hands as you look over at him with wide eyes. “You smoke now?” 

“No.” Heeseung shakes his head. “Never.” 

Back and forth between your hands, the box and its contents rustle. “Really? Because this—” You pause to pull a lighter from the same pocket. “—and this tell me something different.”

“Sunghoon’s quitting again,” he explains, with air quotes around the word quitting. 

“Oh.” You let out a laugh, nodding fondly. “He’s on, like, five weeks or something by now, though, right? Surely you don’t still need to carry these around for him.”

His head tilts so quickly he hurts his neck. With knitted brows, he inspects you. Nothing about your expression seems like you’re trying to hurt him, in truth, you look like you’re being quite sincere; your eyes are wide, curious, and your lips are quirked up at the corners with an amusement he adores. “Six,” he corrects. “How do you know?” 

“He told me.” 

“You guys still talk?” 

A shoulder-dropping sigh falls from your mouth as you put the cigarettes and lighter back in his pocket, raking a hand through your hair. “You’re the only one who doesn’t talk to me anymore,” you say in a small voice. 

The five of you stuck together in high school — where he and Jay first met you, Jake, and Sunghoon — and he knew it would be unreasonable for him to expect your shared friends, especially the youngest two whom you’d known longer, to turn on you. He also figured, given how close you’d grown to Jay, and his undying rationality, that his best friend would outright refuse to shun you on Heeseung’s behalf. Even though they didn’t need his permission, he told them that he didn’t want them to feel like they had to pick sides and that he was perfectly happy for them to keep talking to you. On one condition: that none of them tell him anything about you or your life without him unless you’re hurt—a condition they’ve clearly carried out more faithfully than Heeseung expected them to. 

Bile rises in his throat thinking about all the things your friends have kept from him about your year away. His heart twists over mundane details like your class schedules and favourite things to eat for lunch, and his eyes sting with tears over the important stuff like new friends and, worst of all, new partners. 

Heeseung jolts out of his chair, knocking the table so hard with his thighs that his bottle tips over. You’re quick to catch it. “My mum’s calling,” he blurts out, overwhelmed. 

“Heeseung.” 

“I really have to go.” 

“Heeseung!” you call out, but he’s already back inside. 

You don’t follow him. 

But that was in June, and now it’s September. 

While his friends complain about the chill of autumn, Heeseung’s just happy he can comfortably wear hoodies everywhere again. In a cool lecture hall, home to his Ethics and Responsibility class for the next few months, he relishes the feeling of soft cotton against his ears as he copies the course reading list into the first page of his notebook. 

“Is someone sitting here?” 

Heeseung’s stomach sinks to the floor. Reluctantly, he lifts his head, and through the gaps in his bangs, he sees you and the way your face falls when you see him, instantly looking around the room. 

“Oh,” you say, eyes blown. “I’m sorry, I’ll just..” you trail off.

He scans the room, chewing his lip when he realises that, despite the lecturer not having arrived yet, the seat to his left, with his backpack on it, is the only empty one. “It’s okay,” he says, trying to seem nonchalant as he takes his bag from the chair and puts it on the floor. 

“Thanks,” you mumble, frowning a little as you sit down. 

In the light of day, he really sees you and a lone butterfly, one he was sure had died with the rest last year, flutters lazily in his stomach—wings buzzing against the lining, tickling him. Even with messy hair and tired bags under your eyes, you’re just as beautiful as the first time he saw you. It’s unfair, he thinks. That you could be dealing with this and still manage to look presentable. Jealousy kills the butterfly, stirring a pit in his belly at the thought that you were able to break up with him and continue with life as normal on the other end of the country, making new friends and new memories as if nothing happened. 

Even when Dr. Kim comes in and starts the class, Heeseung can’t take his eyes off of you. You haven’t lost any of your mannerisms, he notices when you stick your tongue out a little while typing notes as the lecturer says them, barely looking up from your laptop to see the slides. 

At the end of the lecture, all he has to show for it is the reading list and a couple of bullet points that seemed important as he copied them from your screen. Side by side, you silently walk down the stairs to leave the room, and the sight of Sunghoon through the doorway pulls a relieved sigh from Heeseung’s chest. 

Sunghoon’s brows raise seeing you together and he clears his throat when you’re close enough. “Hey, you two! My little study buddies,” he says in a strained voice. “First day back! First day for you, YN, what was that like?” He sounds like he’s reading from a script as he walks between you. 

Heeseung lets you answer, listening to your voice as he walks behind you down the stairs. He wonders if things will be this way forever, briefly contemplating throwing himself over the bannister so he doesn’t have to find out. If you’re uncomfortable, you don’t show it, talking excitedly with Sunghoon about the class, mentioning things Heeseung hadn’t even heard, despite having sat through the same hour-long introduction lecture as you. He trails behind the two of you all the way to the library, where Jay is sleeping with his chin on his arms and Jake is staring at the table of contents in his textbook. You cut yourself off, jogging over to the table they’re sitting at to wake Jay. As soon as you wrap your arms around him, he flinches, waking up with his brows pulled together. 

“What are you doing?” Jay mumbles, trying to shake you off. 

As Heeseung sits beside Jake, he skims over the front page of the textbook, trying to remember what tensile strength means. Sunghoon stands at the end of the table looking at his phone, and you sit next to Jay, pulling your seat a little closer and letting him rest his head on your shoulder. Heeseung looks away, trying to bury the unease building in his stomach. 

Sunghoon breaks the silence. “Can we go get food?” And suddenly, you all stand up, filing out of the library towards the Tesco Express down the road. 

Jay and Sunghoon take the lead, picking up their lunch without much thought before waiting in line at the self-checkout, while you, Jake, and Heeseung spend an ungodly amount of time weighing up options in front of the meal deals. Heeseung gets the same thing every time but looks at every single sandwich, drink, and snack option just in case before picking up his food. 

“Just cheese is crazy, bro,” Jake says, shaking his head. “What’s wrong with you?” 

Heeseung shrugs. “It’s reliable.” 

“It’s absurd.” 

You hum between the two of them, tilting your head thoughtfully. “I don’t know, I think it’s cute.” Your shoulders rise and fall in a casual shrug, almost as if you haven’t just paid Heeseung a compliment for the first time in a year and three months. 

Jake’s eyebrows raise, a grin playing on his lips as he glances between the two of you when you step forward, pulling a just cheese sandwich from the shelf too. “Cute,” he repeats. “Sure.” 

Outside, Jay and Sunghoon are sitting on a half-finished brick wall, and while normally, Heeseung would say something to interrupt Jay’s never-ending lecture series on making the most of your meal deal, he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself or the small smile he’s struggling to keep off his face. 

“Hoon, think about it,” he says, resting his giant can of Red Bull on the stepped brick next to him. “A meal deal costs £3. You get a sandwich, a drink, and a snack, all for £3. You, foolishly, bought a sandwich, a snack, and a bottle of water, you gave them money.” 

“Yeah, man, anyone who shops anywhere gives money, that’s, like, an entry-level requirement.” 

“But I’m taking money from Tesco, you get it?” 

Jake sighs, taking a seat next to Sunghoon. “You’re technically right, but you still paid for your food under a promotion Tesco created. If you really wanted to take from Tesco, you should be stealing your lunch. Also, the sandwich he got was £2.85, and there’s more water in his bottle than Red Bull in your can, so I actually think Hoon got the better offer today.” 

Beside Heeseung, you roll your eyes, wrestling with a packet of crisps while juggling everything in your hands. Seeing your struggle, he reaches over, taking hold of your drink and sandwich. “Thanks,” you mumble, smiling. You glance towards Jay and Sunghoon, then back at Heeseung. “Are they always like this?” 

He nods with a slight frown. A tiny laugh comes through your nose as you nod too. 

During the walk back to campus, as you split your sandwich with Sunghoon, Heeseung has an unsettling realisation. If he wants to get you back, he’ll have to start out being your friend. He’s not too sure what that will look like, seeing as the two of you were friends for six weeks — that he spent hopelessly in love with you — before he asked you out. All he knows is he wants to be the one you share your lunch and link arms with unthinkingly. While he assumes that your shared friend group and three out of four classes will naturally lead to friendship, things might go better if he makes an effort.

He doesn’t.

Not today at least. The second and last class of the day ends much like the first, with a heading in his notebook, and slowly reviving butterflies in his stomach every time your knee bumps into his under the desk. Again, neither of you says much as you leave the class to go meet Jay in the library. He’s awake this time, grinning at the girl across from him. 

“They’re so cute!”

“They’re talking.” 

“Yeah, in a cute way. Look at the smile on his face,” you say as if anyone could miss Jay’s grin or the way it widens when he notices you and Heeseung staring. 

Yunjin immediately looks over, waving before getting out of her seat to come over. She greets Heeseung with a hug before flinging her arms around you, gushing about how it’s been so long. Heeseung feels his brow raise when you giggle and  say, “We hung out two weeks ago.”

She loosens her hold on you, looking down into your eyes with a shocked look. “Yeah, two weeks too many. What are you doing later?” 

It feels like Heeseung skipped a chapter and his stomach hurts when he realises he has—a whole year's worth of the contents of your life. Of course, Jay already introduced Yunjin to you, of course, you’re already friends. 

Leaving you with Yunjin in the library, Heeseung and Jay walk back to their flat. They take the long route home, through the winding bike path and over the creaky footbridge by Sunghoon’s old apartment. Jay is eerily quiet, only responding in nods and hums—this silence means one of two things, he’s either too exhausted to speak or he’s saving his words to reprimand Heeseung at home. 

Outside their flat, Jay hesitates, gripping the handle tightly before turning to Heeseung. In his eyes is a familiar look, the one he typically wears before telling someone off and Heeseung bites his tongue lest he pisses Jay off even more. A few times, Jay opens his mouth but doesn’t speak, exhaling a deep sigh as he rests his head against the door. “I want you to know I’m on your side, sort of,” he says. “If it’s too hard being around YN, we can always hang out together instead, just us.” 

Jay’s key clicks in the lock and Heeseung watches, shocked. He didn’t expect that at all. 

“It’s not like it’s hard, just weird, you know?” Heeseung runs a hand through his hair, leaving his shoes by the door while Jay locks it before following him into the living room and sinking into the couch. “We have the same friends, so I can’t avoid her, but I don’t think I want to.” 

“Like I said, we can just hang out on our own if we’re on campus.” Jay pauses for a beat, clearly pleased by whatever he’s thinking about as a smile spreads on his face. “It might do you some good being around her though, like, to see why none of us want to date her.” 

The offer is generous and Heeseung spends a while considering it. But as Jay said, it probably would be a good thing to hang out with you if he wants to build the friendship he finds himself craving. 

“It might also do you some good to, you know.. start looking nice again. It’s been a year, dude, and she’s back now, don’t you want her seeing what she’s missing out on?” 

Heeseung cocks his head to the side, surprised and honestly a little offended. “Are you saying I’m ugly now?” 

“No, I’m saying it probably wouldn’t hurt to put some essence in your hair, touch up your roots, and, you know, use deodorant.” 

Reflexively, he grabs the pit of his hoodie, bringing it to his nose and sniffing furiously. The only thing he can smell is fresh detergent and he looks at Jay with a frown. “So you think I should change everything about myself basically.” 

“I hate to be the one to say it..” Jay trails off, head falling back in contagious laughter. “Seriously though, if you want her back or, at least, want her to miss you, start putting some effort in.” 

Heeseung’s eyes are wide as saucers. “She doesn’t miss me?”

“You spent the whole day together, why would she miss you?” 

“So she doesn’t.” 

“I didn’t say that.” Jay shrugs. 

Outside, a cloud moves away from the sun, letting it shine right through the window and into Heeseung’s eyes. He squints a little, groaning before bringing his arm over his face to shield himself. Jay laughs and Heeseung flips him off. “You didn’t really say anything.” 

“Are you crying?” Jay coos. 

“Sure.” 

“Too bad, I’m taking a nap. Club later?” 

Heeseung grunts in response, considering taking a nap too. 

A dramatic sigh tugs its way from Jay’s chest. “Look, it’s not my place to say, but she told me a few months ago she was miserable in first year, something about wanting to see some guy she dated in high school.”

“You knew she was coming back?” Heeseung practically jumps in his seat, sitting up straighter. “You knew I’d see her today and you let me leave the house looking like this?” It’s not like he looks bad in his oversized black hoodie and sweatpants but he might have taken the time to do more than run a hand through his hair this morning if he knew.

Jay holds his hands up defensively. “You said you didn’t want to hear anything about her unless she died. I was just doing what you told me to.” 

“I think it goes without saying that that would’ve been a nice thing to know.”

“Noted.” Jay nods. “Club later?”

Despite saying no, Heeseung finds himself at the club anyway, having a friendly dance battle with Jay while you hype them up, filming blurry videos with your finger over the camera lens. Jake and Sunghoon came out too but went off to find girls. 

Heeseung spent all of pres and the journey to the club worrying about being drunk around you. Or rather, worrying about being drunk around drunk you. Drunk you who typically gets clingy and oversentimental just looking at a bottle of vodka, or brings up old memories and uses pouty, gloss-coated lips to say things without thinking of the consequences. For better or for worse, you haven’t done any of that yet. 

Between knocking back drinks and rivalling the club photographer, you find time to make a look of disgust every time a guy comes near you, immediately shaking your head and pressing yourself against Heeseung before mumbling an apology in his ear each time, even though he tells you it’s okay. Your admirers start to dwindle when he dances with you to a song you like, letting you hold his hand and pull him closer, all while wishing he’d stayed asleep on the couch. 

It’s only when the fifth guy shows up with a stupid smirk on his face, that Heeseung speaks up. His arm finds your waist and he holds you close as he looks at the stranger. “Dude, leave her alone,” he says, angling his shoulder to him in an attempt to shield you. “She’s not interested.” The weight of his words is lost on him until the guy rolls his eyes, shrugging and mumbling whatever as he leaves. 

He saw how uncomfortable you looked after being approached and hated how long it took for you to start enjoying yourself again, so in the moment, it seemed like the right thing to do. To look after you. But now, as he stands with his hand on your waist, his skin touching yours at the hem of your shirt, he’s starting to feel like he’s crossed a line. It’s the worst possible time to freeze in place but there’s nothing he can do about it, and Jay staring at him, with wide eyes and a dropped jaw, isn’t exactly helping. 

With embarrassment burning his cheeks and neck, Heeseung finally looks down at you. You look almost as shocked as Jay for a split second before letting your hand rest on his chest, smiling. The moment feels endless until you lean up to his ear and Heeseung has to bend down a bit. “Thank you, Hee,” you say, still smiling when you pull back. 

All he can do is nod, smiling too.

Over your head, he sees Jay grinning and the heat returns to his cheeks. As if suddenly aware of your position — your hands now resting on his shoulders, chests held together by your grip on each other — the smile falls from your face as you take a huge step back, bumping into Jay while Heeseung’s hand slips from your body. 

“Let’s get more drinks!” you yell to Jay, slinging an arm over his shoulders to pull him away. 

On his own, Heeseung dances to three whole songs, only stopping when Yoo Jimin wraps her arm around him, holding him in the world’s tightest hug. “Lee Heeseung, did I just see you all over a girl?” The interaction takes him by surprise, seeing as he hasn’t actually spoken to her since before summer. “Let’s go for drinks soon, to say congrats on finally moving on!” 

This, of course, is when you and Jay finally return. Jimin notices before he does. “Be good to him,” she yells, smiling, and never letting go of Heeseung. “Bad breakup!” 

You stand there, holding two drinks so tightly your hands start shaking, causing one to spill over your fingers. A strained smile spreads over your lips as you nod. “Right! I’ll try!” 

As quickly as she appears, Jimin vanishes with a smile on her face, pleased with herself. You visibly relax, handing Heeseung his drink and swaying to the music again. Just like at high school parties, you let Jay sling his arm over your shoulders as you dance together. Back then, you’d dance with all of your friends while waiting for Heeseung to return, usually with a cup of water for you to drink, but tonight, with Heeseung standing there, it seems like he’s as good as dead according to you. 

It’s around 2 a.m. when you and Jay decide you’ve had enough, with Jay struggling to keep his eyes open. After failing to locate Sunghoon and easily finding Jake with his cap on backwards and makeup all over his mouth and cheeks, the three of you let him know you’re going home. 

As seems to be the unspoken rule amongst your friends, Jay walks between the two of you while trying to convince you both that if you had fun tonight, there’s no reason to regret having gone out. Even if it means you’ll be sitting in class holding your eyes open. Heeseung ignores him, conspiring out loud about Sunghoon’s whereabouts—getting lost on his way to the restroom or finding an ice rink out back. 

For a while, you entertain him before sighing. “I saw in the chat, he said he’s out talking to a girl he saw wearing a band shirt—Nirvana.” 

The notion is so surprising that Heeseung almost stops in his tracks. Jay voices his shock with a raised brow and an incredulous tone. “Hoon listens to Nirvana?” 

“No, but she’s pretty. I had to send him a screenshot of their popular songs on Spotify when one of her friends came over looking for a lighter.” 

At Jay’s request, you and Heeseung spend the rest of the walk back to your flat trying to name fifteen Nirvana songs. By the time you reach the lift in your building, you’ve successfully listed nine and the three of you stand inside while you look for your keys. On your doorstep, you pull Jay into a tight hug, whispering something in his ear that makes him laugh as he pats you on the back and says, “You probably could.” 

Pathetically, Heeseung hopes you’ll hug him too. With no hesitation, you do, arms locking around his neck, leaving him with flushed cheeks and a racing heart. “Thanks for looking out for me,” you whisper, lingering by his ear before burying your face in the base of his neck. 

Heeseung holds his breath, counting to twelve before you lean away from him, your arms in place as you look up into his eyes. “I’m always going to look out for you,” he manages to say. He can already hear Jay teasing him about it when they’re alone, but the smile on your face is worth it. 

In your doorway, you wave goodbye and they wait outside until they hear your lock clicking before heading home, where Jay doesn’t tease Heeseung at all. 

Turns out, getting home at 3 a.m. when he has a class at 10 o’clock doesn’t fit in amongst any of his better ideas, but still, he gets out of bed and gets ready, heeding Jay’s advice and scheduling a hair appointment on his way to class. 

As soon as he sits down, he gets a text from Jay: thinking of getting smth pierced later, come with? 

Heeseung: what is smth.

Jay: cartilage probs

Heeseung: im getting my roots done at 5

Jay: okayyyyyyy good shit man !!! tmrw? 

Heeseung: 👍👍👍

It shouldn’t surprise Heeseung that you look good, but the sight of you walking through the door in your zip-up hoodie and jeans almost knocks the wind out of him. You’re holding your notebook to your chest, stopping in the middle of the stairs and sighing when the white strap of your tote bag slips from your shoulder to the crook of your elbow. You apologise to the people behind you before rushing up the stairs to Heeseung’s row, putting your things down and slumping into the seat beside him. The room suddenly feels warmer when you take off your hoodie and next to you and your bare arms, his heart starts to race.

“Do you have, like, an interview or something?” you ask, doodling in the margin of your notebook, filling the space with pretty butterflies that make his heart race.

Heeseung, who hasn’t looked for a job in two years, panics. “No?” 

“Oh.” You nod slowly, looking away from him. “A date? Maybe?” There’s something in your voice that makes him want to say yes and see your reaction, but the look on your face makes his stomach turn. 

“No, ne—just no.” 

“You can tell me if you’re going on a date.”

“Why would I go on a date?” 

You shrug, gesturing to his outfit. Heeseung looks down at himself and the cream-coloured cardigan he’s wearing. “You just look nice, that’s all,” you mumble after a while. Suddenly, Jay’s Prada loafers squeezing his toes doesn’t seem so bad and Heeseung sits through the whole lecture with a smile on his face. 

The leaves yellowed on October first, and unfortunately for Heeseung, the last two weeks didn’t play out how he hoped they would. Of course, he knew that you flinging your arms around him and confessing your love was probably a far stretch. But this is torture. You only talk to him when the rest of the boys are around, and even then, you only say things like, what time does class start? and do you have a pen I can borrow? 

His nice outfits don’t let up, but his hair is so long these days that you don’t take any notice of the throbbing hole through his cartilage that Jay somehow convinced him to get. Or so Heeseung tells himself because his ears stick out as far as his shoulders. 

Today marks the first time he’s sat in the library during the day for more than ten minutes, and it’s surprisingly busy. Most of his library trips take place in the early hours of the morning, playing his way through the Papa’s Gameria franchise on the computer next to Jake, who spends several minutes at a time staring at his fancy engineering software before clicking the mouse and staring again. So seeing the steady flow of students come in and out, setting up camp at their tables with headphones and thick binders, while groups of friends whisper amongst themselves, leaning back in their seats and gasping every now and then feels like a culture shock.

There’s about an hour until your class finishes, and he’s been sitting here for two hours already since his Music and Identity class ended, wondering if he’s making a mistake by waiting for you. Especially because he knows you’re not expecting him to. He’s at a table right by the library’s entrance, so you’ll see him on the way out and it can feel like a chance encounter. Uncharacteristically, he’s used this time quite wisely, deciding to go through the reading he was given on the role music plays in maintaining cultural identity among diaspora communities and making notes in the margins of his handout until your class is done. 

Impatience starts to settle in after thirty minutes so he texts you to see to ask if your class is over yet. Immediately, your response lights up his screen: yeah about an hour ago but i stayed home lmao what’s up :) 

Staring down at the message, he sighs, thumbs hovering over the keyboard as he tries to come up with something to say. This goes on for a while until he realises what he’s doing and his heart clenches. How did you go from spending every waking moment texting each other to clutching at straws for a valid reason to talk? 

At the very least, the smiley face you sent is doing wonders for his declining mood. 

Heeseung settles on, “i just left office hours and wanted to know if anyone was still around haha,” before hiding his face with his hands. 

oh nooooooo :( sorry dude, you reply. how’d it go? 

In the six years he spent by your side, he’s never known you to use the word dude—at least not with him. By the looks of things, it seems like your time away was spent studying Jake’s texting patterns or a secret other thing that makes his head hurt when he thinks about it. 

Sighing, Heeseung types back: good! had a couple questions after sem but it went well! 

You react to the message with a heart but don’t reply. He doesn’t have enough time to think about what that might mean because Mark approaches the table, clutching the straps of his backpack with a grin on his face that makes Heeseung feel at ease, like a wide-eyed first year riddled with anxious excitement. 

“You look good, man. You going somewhere nice later?” Mark asks, dapping him up. 

Heeseung shakes his head. “Just home.” 

“Nice.” Mark nods, gasping after a beat. “Did you hear? I made captain!” 

“That’s major, dude, congrats! I knew you would.” If anyone deserves to be team captain, it’s Mark Lee. He was captain of the basketball team in high school and vetoed his spot to Heeseung when he graduated. Two years later, when Heeseung came to college, Mark had been enthusiastic about him joining the team too. 

“I’ve been thinking that my first official act as captain should be getting you back on the team?” Mark’s voice tips up at the end, his brows raising hopefully. 

The last time Heeseung was on the home court, he cried with the ball in his hands because he overheard someone in the crowd saying they didn’t think he could make the shot—they were right. He laughs, shaking his head. “Way too much pressure in uni basketball. Thanks for thinking of me, though.”

“I’m not giving up on you,” Mark says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh, I hear your birthday’s coming up, can I host?” 

“Host what?” 

Mark’s hands clap soundlessly as he laughs. “A party, obviously! Twenty’s a big one! I’ll text you the deets, alright?” he asks, though it doesn’t sound like Heeseung has a choice because Mark’s already walking away, still laughing to himself.

In Heeseung’s eyes, there’s nothing better than knocking back (more than) a few bottles of soju with friends and singing your heart out in the four walls of a karaoke room. Worried about killing the mood, he enjoys from a distance, staying glued to the booth, ad-libbing for the boys and polishing off their drinks as discreetly as he can. The table is adorned with a collection of empty bottles and buckets of feasted-upon fried chicken that still envelop the room in a mouth-watering aroma, while a green strobe light pierces the air as Jake and Sunghoon wrap up their cover of Party Rock Anthem. 

By the time Jay manages to convince Heeseung to sing something, he’s four bottles in and searching for the most heart-wrenching ballad he can find. Sofa by Crush has always been his favourite karaoke song. Even when it first came out and he was in a happy relationship; even at home, alone in the kitchen, using a broom handle as a makeshift microphone, singing until his voice went hoarse and tears stained his shirt. 

It feels like fate when the song’s title flashes across the screen in big bold letters and he knows there’s no real way to ignore destiny, so he chooses it and stands up from his seat. Weighed down by alcohol and an aching heart, he stumbles to the front of the room to stand with his back to his friends. Clutching the mic until his knuckles turn white, he takes a deep breath, letting the intro wash over him before singing. He gets through the first half of the song before practically caving in on himself, too moved by the lyrics to stay on two feet. To Heeseung’s credit, he’s always had a beautiful voice, so he’s not exactly tanking in that respect, but if he was even a tiny bit more cognisant, he’d scrape himself up from his knees and finish the rest of the song in the same light-hearted way everyone else had.

The lights shift through red and blue, casting a pretty glow over the dim space and streaking purples and pinks all over the walls—aesthetically, the room is as moody as Heeseung feels. If he had eyes on the back of his head (or picked himself and his dignity from the floor) he might notice the way everyone else in the room is struck by his sadness, with all three boys sitting in solemn silence as a drunk Jay records the whole thing. 

Tired of watching his friend fall apart, Sunghoon gets up from his seat, muttering dick at Jay for filming before taking the phone from his hands and cutting off the recording. He lifts Heeseung at the armpits like a baby and takes the mic. Clearing his throat, Sunghoon half-heartedly finishes the rest of the song while Heeseung cries into his shoulder. Their duet scores them 63 points and Jay spends the next few minutes texting. Heeseung appreciates Sunghoon’s efforts, crying more as his emotions oscillate from love for his friend to yearning for you, all while Jake attempts to lift the mood with a genuinely moving performance of Highway to Hell. From the way he’s air-drumming and bouncing his leg to the song, anyone could tell that Sunghoon is desperate to join in, but holding back for Heeseung’s sake. With a hiccup, Heeseung wipes his tears with his sleeve and throws himself out to the front, accompanying Jake with an air guitar. It’s only during the start of the second verse that Jay and Sunghoon join in, and a full-fledged rock band moment falls upon them as if gifted from heaven. 

After another hour of singing and drinking, Heeseung and Jay race up their apartment building’s stairs. Panting heavily, with his heart beating in his throat, Heeseung’s knees ache when he reaches the top — though caught up in catching his breath and the sight of you sleeping against the doorframe — he can’t even celebrate his win. 

“Huh,” Jay says when he joins him. “How’d she get here?” 

Heeseung can only shrug in response. 

Suddenly self-conscious in your presence, he stands up straighter, pushing some of his hair off his forehead. Jay moves from behind him, approaching you, but Heeseung’s too hung up on the way you hold your jacket tight around your body to do the same. He wants to though—wants to help you out, pick you up and hold you in his arms, kiss your forehead and lovingly scold you for staying out in the cold. But he’s not drunk enough to convince himself you’ll take that well. 

Instead, he remains glued to the spot, watching Jay wake you up, only mobilising when you’re on your feet, stretching your arms above your head. To you, the sliver of skin peeking out where your shirt ends and your jeans begin is a fleeting detail, lost entirely under a veil of just-risen drowsiness. Yet, to Heeseung, it’s everything. It’s enough to make him want to beg you for a second chance right then and there. But he’s not drunk enough to convince himself you’ll take that well either. 

You’re talking with Jay and there’s a crease in your brow when Heeseung reaches you. Your voices were too quiet to make sense of with the distance but now he hears you loud and clear. “You told me almost two hours ago that you guys were leaving soon,” you sigh, rubbing your neck. 

Jay snorts, missing the keyhole a few times before catching it. “Should’ve just joined in, stupid.” 

“It was boy’s night and you made it very clear that I don’t count. And when I asked what bar you guys were at, you just said doesn’t matter, leaving in ten, and, by the way, none of it was spelt correctly. It felt like you were using code.” 

“Caesar Cipher, perhaps?” 

“Pig Latin, more like,” you scoff, leaning against the wall. 

A mischievous grin spreads over Jay’s lips and Heeseung already hates whatever he’s about to say. “Ixnay on the Eeseunghay.” Yeah, Heeseung hates it. He glances between the two of you, picking up on the smile you can’t hide as you roll your eyes. 

Your gaze finds Heeseung’s and your lips curl into a frown as you look back at Jay. “Otgay ityay.” You nod firmly. 

From context — and memories of numerous private conversations the two of you used to have in his presence — he figures it’s Pig Latin, a linguistic puzzle more intricate than any the English language has ever thrown at him. 

After a beat, you nod towards the open door. “Get inside.”

You follow the boys in and lock the door when Jay hands you his keys. He quickly heads to his room, leaving Heeseung shifting his weight from one foot to the other in the living room, staring at you. Save for Jay’s bedroom, all of the lights are off. The only light shines through the open blinds, a vivid orange beam coming from a streetlight outside, casting a harsh shadow over the room. The terminator line is stark—a clear partition between Heeseung, who’s standing in the shade, and you, who stands in front of the window, backlit by the warm light. You’re glowing. Or, at least, the lighting makes it look like you are—outlining all your edges in soft orange. 

Absently, he plays with the zipper on his jacket—unsure of what’s going on or why you’re here at all. It takes a while, but the words finally escape him. “What are you doing here?” Simultaneously, you ask if he’s okay. 

Even in the dark, your smile warms the room. For you and Heeseung, speaking in unison like that isn’t anything new, so it’s not enough to rouse a reaction from him—nonetheless, he smiles too. Whether by way of drunk optimism or his own sudden acceptance, Heeseung’s starting to feel as though maybe just being by your side, making you smile, might be enough for him. 

“Jay texted me, and I wanted to check in and see how you’re doing.” 

“What did he say?” 

“That you were having a hard time.”

Heeseung nods slowly. 

“Actually, he said—” You pause to check your phone. “—Jay said, worried but hyung he is m let down. I think he meant meltdown?” 

“Hyung,” Heeseung repeats, tilting his head as if the word is foreign to him. A crease runs along his brow, Jay is way drunker than he let on.

“Huh,” you utter, tilting your head too. “I actually thought m let down would’ve gotten a bigger reaction out of you.” 

A moment passes, and then another before Heeseung says, “You can sit if you want. I don’t know if you’re going to stay long or anything, but you can always sit here.”

You smile and he can hear it, watching you take your coat off before sitting on the couch. It’s a bit of a stretch from where you’re sitting but you reach over to turn on the lamp in the corner and Heeseung sits too, as far away as he can. You look comfortable, like you’re supposed to be there and the thought warms his heart.

“You didn’t have to come here. I’m happy you did but you didn’t have to,” he says after too long. 

A frown tugs your lips down. “Of course, I did. I care about you, Heeseung, you know that.” 

Now doesn’t seem like the time to argue, so he makes a mental note to mull over this later. “I know,” he lies, his voice nothing more than a mumble as he nods. 

“Did you guys have fun?” 

Deciding it best to pretend his Crush cover went well, he nods again, smiling as he thinks about the nice parts of boys’ night. With your encouragement, he talks happily for a while about their song choices and the way they all came together in the end. “I feel like we’d get on pretty well as an AC/DC tribute act.” 

“Do you know what room you were in? There’s got to be a way for me to pull the security footage and see for myself.” 

“I actually think Jimin works there, she might be able to hook you up.”

“Jimin?” you repeat in a different tone. The shift is so subtle that Heeseung barely picks up on it, never mind placing it or knowing what it might mean. If he were any more delusional, he might think you’re jealous, but the curiosity in your voice tells him to get out of his head. 

“Yeah, this one girl in the year above,” he explains. “She transferred to humanities so we had a couple classes together last term.” 

“Oh, cool.” 

He really can’t work out your tone and it’s disconcerting. Maybe he should talk about Jimin some more. “She’s like mega smart, and really nice too. She was actually at the club that night! The girl I was talking to when you and Jay went to get drinks,” he says, suddenly remembering. 

“Good for Jimin.” 

“I think you’d like her.” He smiles. “You know, if you’re looking for friends or anything.” 

You only nod, pressing your lips together and leaving Heeseung at a complete loss for words. He watches you chewing on the inside of your cheek, playing with the thread bracelet on your wrist. “I’ve always loved your voice,” you mumble, looking down.

“I know.. You used to beg me to stay up on the phone singing for you.” Heeseung presses his lips together after speaking, mentally locking them and throwing away the key.

You nod with a smile on your face that makes his stomach flutter. “You’re, like, the best guy ever.” 

That makes sense. That Heeseung could be like, the best guy ever but not quite good enough to stay with. He mulls over your words and contemplates setting himself on fire. Standing up from the couch, he goes over to his room. From the doorway, he says, “You can share Jay’s bed, it’s too late to go home by yourself.” 

Heeseung closes his door with plans to stay inside the whole night, but only manages an hour before he gets sick of the stale taste in his mouth. He leaves quietly, and in the light from outside, he sees you sleeping on the sofa with your hands tucked under your head. His heart sinks. Without much thought, he carries you to his room, tucks you in and runs away before doing something stupid like kissing your head to go and brush his teeth. Unlike you, he’s not afraid to wake Jay up, pushing the boy over to make room for himself on his bed, where he lays awake for hours trying to figure out what went wrong with you two until his head starts to hurt. 

In the morning, Heeseung doesn’t see you before you leave, but he spends the better part of an hour with his ear pressed against Jay’s door, eavesdropping on your conversation. If you weren’t talking about him he might feel guilty about this, but you are, so.. 

“I just feel bad, you know? I don’t know how to fit into his life and I feel like I’m only making things harder for him by being here,” you say. “Harder for everyone.”

Heeseung grips the doorframe until his knuckles turn white. He’s spent too much time thinking about how to be your friend without actually trying to be, too caught up in his own feelings to see how he’s affecting everyone else. The corners of his lips droop at the thought. 

“We’re happy to have you back, Heeseung too. He’s just.. hurting, you know? I’m not sure if you heard but he kind of got blindsided and dumped by his high school girlfriend,” Jay says. 

You laugh drily and he pictures the way you roll your eyes. “Hey, uh, random Q, what do you know about Jimin?” 

Jay’s quiet for a bit. Or he’s whispering. Heeseung presses his entire body to the door as if it’ll help. “Yoo Jimin?” he asks. 

“Probably. Heeseung’s friend.” 

“She’s cool,” he answers simply. “You’d like her.” 

“So I keep hearing. What’s going on with them?” 

“Nothing really. They met at some party last year, both pretty drunk, and somehow ended up in a random bedroom where she tried hooking up with him.” Jay’s words strike Heeseung like a jolt, his heart pounds and his stomach twists. It takes a lot for him and the knot in his stomach not to burst out of the room and clear things up. The main thing stopping him though, is that Jay’s telling the truth. “But he misread the whole thing and ended up detailing your entire relationship for two hours,” Jay adds after a while. 

“And now?” 

“Why do you care?” Jay’s tone is teasing but the question makes Heeseung spiral. 

His mouth starts to dry up at the thought of you admitting that you don’t care, that you’re over him and just being nosy. Panic swells in his chest and he jumps away from the door as if it’s red hot, scrambling back under the covers of Jay’s bed and falling back asleep. 

In the following two weeks, Heeseung finds himself mastering the art of avoidance. He fills his evenings with pick-up basketball games with Mark on random courts in the neighbourhood and rushes out of class before you have the chance to talk to him. Playing with Mark is fun, but he can’t ignore the regret festering within him, a persistent thorn in his side. Fortunately for him, Jay, whether knowingly or not, presents him with a potential turning point. He’s invited you and the boys over for pres before his party, instructing Heeseung to get his shit together and acknowledge your existence. 

On the night before his birthday, the apartment echoes with your voice, yelling at Jake to get off the floor. Sunghoon’s cackles only get louder, filling the space. Behind his closed bedroom door, Heeseung catches a panicked glance of himself in the mirror, running a hand through his hair and adjusting his bangs. He lingers in his room as long as he can, trying to put off seeing you.

Jay opens the door without knocking, a lazy grin on his face and a slight sway in his stance that tells Heeseung he’s drunk already. “What are you doing? We’re waiting.” 

“I don’t know,” he admits. 

Rolling his eyes, Jay lets out a tired groan. It’s an unspoken scolding that Heeseung heeds immediately, following him into the kitchen, where Jake is messily pouring shots on the counter. He doesn’t see you anywhere, but Sunghoon distracts him, cheering and wrapping his arms around him—also drunk already. “She’s in Jay’s room, Yunjin called,” he says. “Oh, yeah, happy almost birthday, man. Twenty is crazy.” 

By the looks of things, Sunghoon’s on a mission to kill Heeseung. Twenty shots for his twentieth birthday doesn’t sound like as much fun as Sunghoon thinks it does, it sounds like a punishment or a death sentence. Heeseung — put off by the smell of vodka — manages four shots before tapping out, deciding that he’d quite like to remember tonight and wake up on his birthday without a headache.

Heeseung’s eyes widen when you show up in the doorway, a confusing sense of surprise washing over him. It’s not like he didn’t know you were here; he heard you earlier. It’s just that your sudden presence catches him off guard. His heart skips a beat and a sudden rush of nerves courses through him. He takes in your appearance, his eyes tracing every inch of you before meeting your eyes. As you run your hand through your hair, you smile at him, so pretty and genuine that he can’t help grinning back.

Your dress is beautiful, of course—black satin, he thinks, with pretty pink ribbons tied into perfect bows on the top, and you’re the only girl Heeseung’s ever wanted in his life. 

A whispered whoa falls from his lips, which seem to rest in an ‘o’ as he stares at you. You’re looking away from him now, focused on the tequila puddle Jake’s left on the counter, grabbing some paper towels to mop it up. Jay snorts beside him, nudging his ribs hard. “You’ll catch flies, Heeseung. Come on—decorum, please.” 

Heeseung clears his throat, running a hand through his hair and wiping his palms on his pants, but he doesn’t make any moves towards you. 

“Do something,” Jay mumbles. 

He nods in response, repeating do something, over and over in his head until he finally approaches you. “Hey,” he says, breathless. His heart hammers in his chest when you look up at him, beaming. 

“Heeseung,” you say. “Happy almost birthday. How’re you feeling?” 

Before he has a chance to respond, you wrap your arms around his waist, and like it’s the most natural thing in the world, his arms fall around your shoulders, holding you close. It’s perfect. Some combination of your warm scent and alcohol causes the butterflies in his stomach to rage, fluttering so frantically he thinks he might be sick. 

“Insane,” he admits. 

He can hear you laughing, feeling your chuckles against his chest. “You know, what?” You lean away from him, arms still around his waist, eyes locked on his and a soft smile on your lips. “Me too.” 

An odd weakness settles in his knees, a dizzying flutter alighting his entire body as he nods. Over his shoulder, Sunghoon calls for him, chanting, “More shots! More shots!” For a while, Heeseung ignores him, watching you until he feels his ears heating up at the top. 

“I think I have to go,” he mumbles, eyes locked on your lips. They curl up into a crooked grin, and you use a hand to pat his chest. 

“Good luck.” 

Heeseung takes a deep breath when you let go of him, taking shaky steps towards his friend, who’s grinning widely enough to show his fangs. “Sorry to interrupt, I think you could use the help though,” Sunghoon says, holding out a shot glass to him.

He shakes his head at the shot, taking it from Sunghoon’s hand and placing it down on the table. “I need a minute.” 

Sunghoon only shrugs, taking the drink himself, knocking it back with no visible reaction, and Heeseung thinks he must be a monster. “I really think you could fix things tonight,” he says afterwards, pouring another. 

Instead of taking this in stride, Heeseung decides to pretend you don’t exist after hugging you—it’ll be easier that way. To him, this looks like staring at you in your pretty dress and snapping his neck in the opposite direction when you look over at him. 

To appease Sunghoon, he takes another three shots and has to sit down, overwhelmed by the way his cheeks burn and how the kitchen starts to tilt around him. His mouth is oddly dry; a sensation that has nothing to do with you or the way you look in your dress. This time when you catch him staring, he smiles. 

Even in his beyond-tipsy state, Jay manages to ensure everyone leaves the flat before requesting an Uber. Heeseung finds himself sitting cross-legged on the pavement, for some reason, scrolling through his camera roll. 

“Car’s here, get up,” Jay eventually mumbles, nudging his back with the tip of his shoe.

With some stumbling, Heeseung stands up, dusts off his pants and heads to the car. Jay holds the door open for you, and as you slide across the backseat, your dress rides up. Heeseung screws his eyes shut, shaking his head to clear his thoughts, like resetting an etch-a-sketch. Jay’s hand claps his back as he instructs him to get in, which he does. Hesitantly, he slides into the middle seat, glancing to his right to see who’ll be joining you. 

“You’ll thank me later!” Jay calls out, closing the door. 

Before he even has a chance to shift over, your hand lands firmly on his knee, silently urging him to stay put. With a pounding heart, he complies. The back of his hand brushes against your thigh as he fastens his seatbelt, and the feeling of your soft skin against his leaves him breathless. He feels afloat when the car starts moving. A few minutes pass before you take your hand from his knee, mumbling an apology as you place it on your lap, idly playing with your fingers.

Mark lives about twenty minutes away, leaving Heeseung with something close to sixteen minutes to think of something to say. R&B from the early 2000s rumbles through the speakers in the car, vaguely explicit lyrics alluding to something he’s craving fill the space around the two of you, wrapped up in your warm vanilla scent and the fresh peppermint gum you’re chewing. To put it simply, there’s not a coherent thought in his head he could express that wouldn’t get him into trouble. 

“I didn’t know you were on the basketball team,” you say after a while. “Well, I did know, but you know.” 

“I don’t know,” he admits quietly because he has no idea what you’re talking about. 

A beat passes before you speak again. “How was your day?” 

The first thing on his mind is what falls from his lips. “You look beautiful,” Heeseung blurts out, trying to ignore the tinge of anxiety that’s irritating his stomach. “Your dress is.. It’s really pretty,” he adds, feeling as though he won’t lose anything by putting everything on the table. 

“Thanks.” You smile. “You look beautiful too.” 

Heeseung’s breath hitches in his throat and he looks down at his outfit in the dark. If Jay hadn’t interfered, he’d be wearing a hoodie and sweatpants right now, but he’s happy with the simple striped shirt and loose pants Jay suggested, even if it leaves him a little chilly. “It’s, uh, it’s actually my birthday party tonight,” he supplies uselessly.

You laugh, and it’s the best sound he’s ever heard. “I kind of just meant in general.” 

“Me too.” 

The car falls silent as he lets his head fall into the space between the headrests and closes his eyes. When you reach Mark’s house, he opens them and finds you staring with a smile. “I thought you fell asleep,” you say.

He shakes his head, sliding over the backseat and opening the door. He didn’t expect you to leave from the same side as him, but he likes the heat on his cheeks as he closes the door for you. Wordlessly, the two of you go through the gate and join Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon who are sitting cross-legged on the porch, giggling around a shared joint. He has no idea how they arrived before you did. 

Heeseung isn’t sure how he loses you guys but it’s not until his third round of beer pong that he actually notices. Lee Jeno and his red eyes are a poor shot, barely managing to throw the ball without hitting Heeseung’s chest or dropping it before he gets to aim. He almost feels bad for the guy when he sinks another one of his cups, watching Jeno frown before pinching his nostrils shut and taking a big gulp. 

Jay’s sudden presence startles him, though he’s quick to grin at his best friend. The smile isn’t returned. Instead, he leans up to Heeseung’s ear, yelling that YN’s crying before nudging his way out of the room. His heart sinks and he offers no explanation to Jeno, following Jay upstairs and into the bathroom where he finds you, sitting on the floor, crying into Sunghoon’s shirt while Jake watches with a frown, picking at his nails. 

“What happened?” 

Jake talks with a hushed tone while Sunghoon helps you up before leaving. “She didn’t say anything, she just asked us to go to the bathroom with her and started crying.” He opens his mouth to continue but Jay yanks him out of the room, closing the door. 

“I’m not, like, upset or anything,” you say after a while, wiping your eyes with the back of your hands. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m sorry. I really didn’t want to ruin tonight for you so I told Jake not to say anything, but obviously, he didn’t listen.” 

“Jake did the right thing telling Jay, none of us want to see you upset.” 

“I’m not upset.” You hit Heeseung’s chest with a weak fist, crying more. “Why does everyone think I’m upset?”

“It might be the tears,” he offers, feeling good about making you smile. 

“Yeah, maybe.” 

“Are you using a new liner? Mascara? You still look good.” 

You take a look in the mirror, resting your hands on the edge of the sink. “Yeah, I discovered waterproof makeup in first year.” 

“Is it harder to take off?” 

“Definitely, but it’s worth it, I think, for nights like this.” 

“Yeah, right.” Heeseung nods, watching you carefully as he sits on the edge of the bathtub. It’s like being in high school, seeing you like this. Most of the parties you went to were spent in the bathroom, with Heeseung holding your hair back and trying to calm you down after throwing up. He misses all of it except the vomit. “Are you okay?” 

Catching his gaze in the mirror, you nod but look down at your hands when he says your name. “It’s just a little harder being back than I thought it would be.” 

“Oh.” 

You sigh, playing with your hair as you sit down next to him. “Obviously it’s great seeing the guys all the time, seeing you all the time, but everything’s fucked and we act like strangers and it’s killing me not being able to just..” you trail off. Heeseung is clearly drunker than he feels because it looks like your eyes are stuck on his lips. After a beat you slide away from him, moving until your back hits the wall. A mixture of frustration and something else colours your face. “I just don’t like treating you like a stranger and I don’t know how to fix it.” Before he has a chance to think or to say anything you ask him for the time. 

“It’s 12:23.” 

“Happy birthday!” you say, smiling. “Am I the first to say it?” 

“You’re always first.” Even last year, you sent a text at midnight, so Heeseung’s not sure why there’s a surprised look in your eyes or why it’s making him want to kiss you more than usual. “You don’t have to treat me like a stranger if you don’t want to,” he says carefully, trying to get you both back on track. 

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to act around you.” 

His voice is soft when he says, “Honestly, neither do I.” 

“I wish I never left.” 

“Everything happens for a reason, I guess.” Despite the small smile on his face, he’s still trying to understand what reason you had. 

An exhaled laugh comes from your nose and you nudge him. “Were you secretly trying to get rid of me?” 

“You caught me,” he sighs, holding out his hands in defeat. “I had this whole elaborate plan. I was going to fake my death, but you saved me the trouble. Thanks for that.” 

Both of you share a genuine laugh and the tension in the air eases up a bit. Heeseung’s eyes meet yours; a brief moment of silence follows. You clear your throat. “I’m sorry for leaving. I really wish things could’ve been different.” 

It can’t be your intention to hurt him by saying that, but you do, leaving Heeseung feeling the full spectrum of his emotions. A pang of hurt, of longing—hurting himself even more as he thinks about the could-have-beens. He purses his lips, looking down at his shoes. “Me too.” Sick of the tension, of his feelings, he glances at you, sitting up a little straighter. “How about we start fresh? Clean slate?” 

“Clean slate?” you echo, raising an inquisitive brow. 

Heeseung nods, determined, extending his hand for you to shake. “I’m Heeseung.”

“YN,” you chuckle, taking his hand in yours. 

He holds onto it, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “Funny, you look just like my ex.” 

Your eyes widen, amused. “Wow, Hee, you always know just what to say.” 

The two of you sit quietly for a moment, but Heeseung’s just glad you’re not crying anymore. He feels lighter now, hopefully you do too. Standing up, he holds out a hand to help you get to your feet which you take, smiling up at him as you straighten out your dress. 

“You know,” he says, clapping his hands together. “For a second there, I thought I’d need a manual on how to talk to you again, but I think we’re doing pretty well.” 

Heeseung feels pleased with himself when you laugh, rolling your eyes and nudging his chest with your hand. “Shut up,” you say, light and playful. 

“Are you ready to get back to the guys?” 

You smile at him, nodding before quickly turning back to the mirror. “Do I look okay?” 

It doesn’t make sense to Heeseung that a girl as beautiful as you could ever look just okay. Even with the slight swell to your glassy eyes, you’re the most perfect person he’s ever seen. But he can’t say that. So instead, he pulls a sharp breath through his teeth, tilting his head a bit and raising his hand in a horizontal gesture, his fingers wobbling as if balancing an imaginary scale. A  non-committal sound escapes him, a soft eh before he laughs at the way your jaw drops. 

You punch his arm. “Heeseung!” 

“Come on, you know you look great,” he mumbles, looking away to hide the flush in his cheeks. The sound of your lips spreading into a smile makes his stomach flutter as he opens the door to find Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon sitting cross-legged in the hall in front of it.

“Birthday boy!” Jay yells, springing to his feet and flinging his arms around Heeseung. 

“And YN!” Jake adds from his seat. 

Heeseung hears you saying thanks to Jake before sitting next to him. 

“So, did you two kiss and make up or what?” Jay’s attempt at whispering is futile and somehow Heeseung’s cheeks burn even more as he frees himself from his friend’s hold. 

“Kiss, no. Make up, yes.” 

“Playing the long game, I like it.” Jay grins, patting Heeseung on the back. “Sit down, let’s talk.” 

Heeseung sits in the space next to Sunghoon, holding his legs awkwardly to his chest. He’s not entirely sure what’s happening and he feels like he’s not drunk enough anymore to fully relax into it, until you leave Jake’s side, crawling over to Heeseung and resting your head on his shoulder. In the dim hall, the boys shuffle around but it’s too dark to see what they’re doing—not that he cares much at this point, letting his head rest on top of yours and closing his eyes. It almost sounds quite pretty when they start singing Happy Birthday, and Jake has a tiny lunchbox cake in his hands when Heeseung opens his eyes. Its purple-frosted TWENT-HEE is disrupted by a half-smoked joint stuck in the centre which the flash on Sunghoon’s phone provides a makeshift flame for. 

“Make a wish!” you squeal, clapping your hands. 

It takes three attempts for Heeseung and Sunghoon to coordinate the timing between his exhale and Sunghoon turning the flash off, but the candle is blown out, and, right now. Heeseung has everything he’s ever wanted. 

Almost. 

Heeseung wakes up pressed against the wall with an arm wrapped around his waist. An embarrassing surge of excitement courses through him as he thinks about your conversation and puts his hand over yours. What he’s met with is less of the softness he’d anticipated, and more of the coarse skin and defined knuckles he’s come to recognise as Jake’s hand under the duvet. It only takes a look over his shoulder to make sense of why Heeseung’s nose is grazing his bedroom wall. Behind him is Jake, who’s being spooned by you, and behind you is Sunghoon who’s clinging onto your frame for dear life, even in his slumber. Evidently, Jay’s had a successful night and with his unwavering loyalty to Yunjin, it’s not hard to figure out what happened in the room across the hall.

With his eyes pressed shut, desperate to clutch some more sleep, he hears you mumbling. “Park Sunghoon, if you don’t wake up and let go of me, I’ll kill you,” you say with a tone that frightens Heeseung and sets off a flutter in his stomach. The yelp and thud that follow seem to wake Jake up and he crawls over you to get out of bed, stretching his arms out above his head and making no effort to step over Sunghoon on the floor. You roll over in the bed, wrapping an arm around Heeseung’s waist and pressing yourself into his side. “Happy birthday,” you say through a yawn before getting up. 

He manages to mumble a thanks, butterflies running wild in his stomach and a flush creeping up his neck as he watches you leave the room, eyes stuck on the way your hips move in last night’s dress. He gets out of bed, sighing, untucking his shirt to cover the tightness in his pants before joining his friends in the kitchen. 

Hungry but unmoving, you and the boys occupy the three seats at the small kitchen table, harping on about the different things as Jake whines, begging you to keep it down. 

Heeseung’s first intense emotion as a sober twenty-year-old is betrayal. There are used dishes lying in the sink, plates, mugs, and pans — two of each — staring up at him, wafting the scent of a cooked breakfast, with no leftovers in sight, up to his nostrils. He sighs, wondering if it’s his responsibility as host, and eldest friend, to make more food for everyone, or if, as the birthday boy, he should sit around and wait for someone else to take action. Settling on the latter, he sights up on the countertop, sure to keep his back to you so he doesn’t have to see the low neckline of your dress.

Finally, Jay comes back, whistling an unfamiliar tune and twirling his keys on his finger when he reaches the kitchen. “Hello,” he says simply, leaning against the doorjamb as if he hadn’t single-handedly ruined Heeseung’s birthday. 

Sunghoon rubs his eyes, looking in Jay’s direction. “So now, if I want a nice breakfast after a night out, do I have to fuck you?” 

Jay’s cheeks flush as he looks at his feet. “I mean, I planned to cook for you guys when I got back.” 

“I don’t want your sloppy seconds,” he scoffs, slumping in his chair. 

“I do, Jay. Cook for me,” you say, gesturing toward Jay’s general direction making grabby hands at him.

With a gentle smile, he crosses the room and pats your head. “What are you in the mood for?”

“Anything,” you mumble into his shirt. 

Jay nods, going over to the fridge. He stands in front of it with his hands on his hips, completely still for almost two minutes and Heeseung only approaches him because he’s worried about the outside heat getting on all the food through the open door. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, uttering his first sentence of the morning. 

Jay clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck as he leans towards Heeseung. “I, uh, finished the eggs, milk, and bacon.” A nervous look covers his face before he continues. “And we ate your Hello Kitty pancake mix,” he adds, mumbling like he doesn’t want to be heard. 

Unfortunately, he is, and Heeseung’s mortified. “My Hello Kitty pancake mix?!” He takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “YN got that for me, we were supposed to make those together.” His voice is as whiny as his volume will allow, and he struggles not to stomp his feet. 

“Oh, you were? How’d that work out?” Jay’s words are cutting. 

“Okay, ouch.” 

“Dude, it was expiring next week. Plus, Yunjin just looked so cute when she saw it—I had to.” 

“What if I wanted to make them this week?” 

“You’ve had the box for two years,” Jay reminds him. “Think of Yunjin.” 

With a sigh, Heeseung actually does think of Yunjin. Although the girl he envisions is different from the one Jay wants him to imagine. 

They met on the first day of university. She had a guitar strapped to her back, and a huge amp in hand when she approached him. Her eyes were wide with nervousness or excitement; Heeseung couldn’t tell which. Immediately, she extended her free hand for him to shake. “Yunjin,” she said. 

“No.” He shook his head while pointing at himself. “Heeseung.” From the way she laughed at his stupid joke, he knew she was the next girl Jay would fall for.

Jay had a habit of falling in love with the first girl to do something nice for him on any given day. And then the next girl. But after hearing Yunjin talk about her gap year, spent learning guitar seriously, Heeseung had a feeling things were going to change for his friend. He was right. 

The memory, along with the satisfaction of having figured those two out from the beginning, brings a warm smile to Heeseung’s face. “You owe me.” 

“Yeah, whatever. I owe you,” Jay scoffs, though the slight furrow in his brow suggests genuine remorse. “Just so you know, they weren’t special or anything.. just pancakes, you know?” 

Heeseung chuckles despite himself. “Are you trying to make me feel better?” 

“Maybe a little,” Jay shrugs. To his credit, it works. 

At least until Heeseung’s stomach grumbles, a noisy reminder of why they’re standing there in the first place. He also learns the hard way that the fridge starts to beep when you leave it open too long. Jay laughs through his nose, closing the door with his elbow. 

“What are we eating?” 

Jay seems to think about this for a minute, tilting his head and suggesting McDonald’s. 

If asked, Heeseung probably wouldn’t have said he pictured spending the morning of his twentieth birthday squished between Jake and Sunghoon in a sticky booth, but he’s here and can’t find anything to complain about as he inhales his breakfast. Too caught up in the way his hoodie drapes over you, he listens half-heartedly as you all quiz Jay on his night. It seems like he’s being pretty tight-lipped about the whole thing but the dreamy grin on his face is hard to miss. 

Eventually, you all pile back into Jay’s car, with Heeseung sitting shotgun as a birthday gift, that he doesn’t get to fully enjoy because he falls asleep as soon as the car starts moving. He sinks into the front seat, a contented smile playing on his lips as the warmth of the sun and his full stomach lull him into a peaceful nap. 

At home, he thanks Jay before crawling into bed where he replies to messages before letting his head fall into the pillow.

His eyes don’t even close all the way before you come into the room. “Can I nap in here?” 

Heeseung nods, watching you get comfortable under his duvet. In a matter of seconds, you’re just an arm’s reach away, softly snoring with your back to him. Meanwhile, he spends four hours laying completely still, trying to convince himself that the heat radiating from your sleeping form doesn’t make him miss you more. 

At around 3 p.m. when everyone wakes up, you and the boys hurry away for various mumbled reasons, leaving Heeseung home alone, trying to practise his surprised face for whenever you’re all back with cake and a gift. 

You don’t return until Heeseung’s hair has started to dry after his shower, but you waste no time shuffling around the kitchen before coming back with a pretty cake and real candles with a real flame, singing for him again. With the way Jake’s rushing him, Heeseung can’t come up with a wish in time, so blows out the candles with a clear mind. 

“Woo!” Jake cheers, clapping around a wrapped present that he immediately thrusts into Heeseung’s hands. “Open it!” 

He barely gets to peel the first piece of tape before he jumps off the couch and kneels down next to him. “It’s LEGO! The Infinity Gauntlet, you know? And the best part is..” Jake pauses dramatically. “You get to put it together with your best friend, Jake! Right now!” His excitement is endearing even though he’s ruined the surprise. “The others can help too, I guess.” 

You frown at him. “I paid for the kind lady at the LEGO store to gift wrap that for us.” 

“Yeah, and she did great!” Jake grins. “Can I help you open it? Please, Heeseung, please. You’re taking forever.”

With a smile, Heeseung hands the box to Jake, letting him open it carefully before Sunghoon joins in, tearing the paper to shreds all while Jay records the whole moment like a proud father. All five of you are sitting on the floor now, covered in wrapping paper while Jake holds the LEGO set up like it’s his, blinking hard at the camera with a smile on his face, and it’s Heeseung’s favourite birthday yet. 

my girl: who wants to take me on a date?

Heeseung knows he should probably change your contact name but the notification still makes his cheeks burn in a way he thinks he likes.

jake: heeseung probably 

jake: idk tho

my girl: ok heeseung come to the museum with me for class

sunghoon: next time open with the museum thing holy shit.. i almost fucking volunteered

heeseung: when?

my girl: i would have rejected you hoon

my girl: whenever ur free !

Heeseung’s schedule always has a way of clearing up when it comes to you, and he skips pick-up with Mark to pick you up at your door that evening. You answer right when Heeseung knocks, sliding some rings onto your fingers with a smile on your face, saying, “Hello.” 

“You..” Heeseung swallows, nodding his head. He’s doing his best not to check you out but he really can’t help it when your jeans seem to fit like they were made for you. “Hi,” he whispers. 

“Hey.” 

He clears his throat, finally managing to unstick his gaze from your thighs and gestures in the direction of the stairs. “Shall we?” 

At the train station, you don’t object when Heeseung pays for your ticket, he didn’t mean to, his finger just clicked through for two tickets instead of one. He’s happy when you don’t make a big deal about it, only smiling and thanking him when he hands you the ticket. He stands close behind you, protective, letting the peak-time commuters nudge past him instead of you as you wait in line for the only working ticket barrier. You go through first and Heeseung quietly follows, trying to keep his eyes off your ass and praying that the rest of the day goes by more comfortably than it’s started. 

The train is packed too, so you stand by the doors and, again, Heeseung stands maybe a little closer than necessary, his arm above his head gripping the yellow handrail. “Why did you want to go to the museum anyway?” he asks, gulping when you look up at him. 

“I’ve always liked museums.” You shrug, playing with the buttons on your cardigan. 

“I know, it’s just.. You said earlier you wanted to go for one of your classes.” 

“Right. It’s a requirement for one of them. Visualising Culture,” you explain, looking him in the eyes. Suddenly nervous, he doesn’t trust his voice to speak so he nods, keeping his gaze fixed on yours. “Museum and Exhibition Studies.” 

“Cool.” 

“Yeah.” You nod and turn your head from him, looking through the window. 

Your eyes are stuck on the trees outside, blurring into each other, and his eyes are stuck on the side of your face, staring shamelessly for the rest of the journey. A tinny voice announces the name of the station you’re approaching, and you nudge Heeseung gently, a silent signal that it’s time to leave. Silence seems to follow you out of the station and into the museum, but he tells himself he doesn’t mind. 

For the last hour, you’ve been looking at artwork without taking note of anything or making comments, all while Heeseung observes you, wondering what you’re supposed to be doing for class. “What’s the point of this trip?” he finally asks. 

Without backing away from the painting, you turn your head to look at him, raising a brow. “What do you mean?” 

“Like, what’s your task?”

You chew on your lip for a bit before looking back at the painting. He can’t help but wonder if in all your time away you’ve been flexing some sort of elitist muscle, or if it’s come about as a result of your fancy exhibition studies class that you had to take a test to be accepted into. Finally, you lean away from the painting and use your phone to take a picture of the blurb before looking at him again. 

“I wanted an excuse to get someone to come to the museum with me and I wanted it to be you.” 

Your words are so cute and so honest that his heart warms in his chest, even as he ignores his sadness about the fact you felt like you needed an excuse to hang out. “You could have just asked me.” 

Considering his words, you frown, tilting your head at him. “You make it sound so easy.” 

“It is easy, or it should be, it’s us,” he says unthinkingly. Clearing his throat, he scratches the back of his neck. “I mean, that’s, like, the whole point of having friends, right? To hang out with them?” 

“Well.. yes. I just.. I don’t know.” 

Somehow, this makes perfect sense to Heeseung who only nods his head, moving on from the frame when you do. It’s nice watching you admire the art, to watch the soft smile that develops as your eyes scan the canvas. 

You like looking at the paintings when no one else is, to get up close and try spotting the brush strokes. You like imagining the artist and how they might have felt as they painted, and when the paint is thick, protruding from the canvas, when you can see streaks of yellow peeking through a sludgy green. You have a lot to say about the paintings and how they make you feel, and how they don’t make you feel, finding something you like in all of them.

After a while, you grab Heeseung’s hand and excitedly pull him through all the Ancient Egypt stuff, and he’s too happy that his fingers are locked with yours to worry about his aching feet anymore, and you’re so cute with your wide grin that he doesn’t have the heart to tell you he’d like to sit down. He hates you a little when the two of you take turns writing your names in hieroglyphs, and you somehow manage to maintain your neat handwriting. But you make up for it by writing his name too, drawing a pretty butterfly at the end that makes his heart race.

You start rambling about shabtis and how people were typically buried with a few, depending on their wealth and status, but Tutankhamun was buried with something like four hundred, and some of them were even painted to look like him. “Look at how pretty this one is,”  you say, grinning while holding your phone in his face with a picture of one. Your excitement peaks when you reach the big sarcophagus, and you let out a squeal when you open it and three kids run out, bursting into a fit of giggles. You’re excessively cute when you ask him to take a picture of you, and then make him take a video opening the front while you're ‘dead’ inside it. Which takes a few attempts because you’re laughing each time.

You tell him to delete those takes. He doesn’t.

Right when he’s expecting you to get out, you grab him by the wrist and pull him in with you, closing the front of it before letting go of him. Heeseung is certain he’s lived this exact moment before, but he was seventeen and you were giggling like crazy, feeling around in the dark for his shoulders to wrap your arms around before kissing him. He has no idea what he’s supposed to do or what you want him to do, and the feeling of your breath fanning his neck in the tight space isn’t helping. 

Silent minutes pass by like hours until a kid pulls the sarcophagus open. The light is blinding but Heeseung steps out, relieved, almost thanking the kid for saving him. You’re fiddling with your necklace and struggling to meet his eyes. When you do though, you shoot him an easy grin, laughing to yourself about nothing. 

“Do you want to get something to eat?” Drinks maybe?” you ask after a while, playing with the zipper on your jacket. 

Heeseung takes you to a restaurant where university students he’s only seen on Instagram walk around like they own the place. A tired-looking guy comes to take your orders before you even have a chance to take your coat off so Heeseung asks for a minute and the waiter leaves. There’s something in his demeanour though that makes it seem like you only have one full minute to make up your minds. 

“What do you want to drink?” you ask, holding the drinks menu out to him. 

Heeseung closes it, sitting it on the table. “Probably a beer.” 

You laugh at this. “You don’t have to act all manly in front of me.” There’s a soft look in your eyes like you mean it. 

“I actually like beer these days.” 

Your brows raise and your jaw drops before you utter the word whoa. 

“What?” he asks, suddenly self-conscious. 

You shrug, collecting yourself. “You’re just.. different now.” 

The very prospect of being different is shocking to Heeseung who prides himself on being pretty consistent with his behaviour. His brows knit together as he tilts his head. “Because I like beer?” he asks, scoffing slightly at the mere suggestion. 

“I mean, that’s part of it.” To his dismay, this seems to be the end of your sentence. He gives you a little nod, hoping you read his mind and elaborate like he wants you to. “You bleached your hair, pierced your cartilage, what’s next? Are you going to tell me you have a tattoo?” 

Heeseung feels his breath catch in his throat when you say the word tattoo but you don’t seem to notice. “It’s been a year,” he points out, folding the corner of his napkin, pressing his thumb against it with enough pressure to leave a defined fold and have it stick up a little when he lets go. 

“I know, it’s just.. weird, you know?” Your voice is small when you speak, soft and quiet, barely anything above the noise around you both.

Heeseung nods. He does know. 

“You’re weird too.” 

“How?” There’s a defensive tone to your voice that makes him chuckle. 

“You’ve always been weird.” 

A dramatic frown curves your lips and the waiter is back before you can object. Leaning forward slightly, he orders for both of you, the sharing platter of fried chicken, your French Martini, and his controversial draught beer. He doesn’t miss the way you raise your brows when he orders the beer, as if you’d been waiting to catch him out or something. After the waiter leaves, Heeseung meets your gaze briefly, matching the gentle smile on your lips before looking away. 

The drinks only take a few minutes and you thank the waiter before looking over at Heeseung, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you slide your cocktail over to him. “Do you want to try?” 

He nods, lifting the glass and moving the straw out of the way to take a sip from the rim. Nodding his head, he hums in approval, eyes widening. “It’s good.” 

You lean back in your seat, twirling the straw when he hands the drink back to you. “Yeah?” you ask, smiling triumphantly as if you made it yourself. “A normal person would’ve used the straw.” 

Heeseung can’t help but roll his eyes, liking the way you laugh. “Are you acting out because I called you weird?” 

“A little.” 

The waiter places the platter at the centre of the table with a small smile, that you match, clearly hungrier than you’d been letting on as you lick your lips at the sight of the chicken. Heeseung’s stomach grumbles quietly as the scent hits his nose and he feels like he hasn’t eaten in days when a plate lands in front of each of you. A comfortable familiarity settles over him when he lets you pick first, and he knows you feel it too from the sweet smile you give him before eyeing the food. You take a while considering every wing, even though all of the pieces are scarily identical, before picking one and Heeseung follows, choosing with much less care than you, but enjoying it nonetheless.

Under your light-hearted scrutiny, he orders a cocktail the next time the waiter comes around. It’s much better than his beer, and so quickly, one cocktail turns into two until both you and Heeseung are four drinks in, laughing over nothing and putting in an effort not to slur your words together. 

Time seems to pass at the same rate as your drinks, though neither of you seems to notice until you check the time on your phone and your mouth falls into a gasp. Heeseung does the same when you show him your screen, you only have ten minutes to make the fifteen-minute walk back to the station so you can catch the last train. 

He gets up to settle the bill as quickly as humanly possible before you grab him by the hand and book it out of the restaurant. Though breathless, he knows he can’t let up, running as fast as his legs will carry him as he tugs you along behind him. Somehow you still have it in you to cackle every time either of you trips up. 

Out of breath, you both slump into the first seats you find, sobering up a little after the run. He looks at you and feels his heart snag in his chest. “You okay?” he asks, huffing out a breath that pushes his bangs into the air.

“No,” you whine, pouting and resting your head on Heeseung’s shoulder. He lets his head rest on top of yours reaching his hand out to grab your own. He squeezes it gently, in a way he hopes is comforting. You lock your fingers with his before he can pull away and Heeseung’s heart starts pounding again. 

He doesn’t realise you’ve fallen asleep until the train reaches your stop and you don’t react. He doesn’t want to wake you up, nor does he want to let go of your hand, but he knows he has to. Heeseung nudges you gently, rousing you from your sleep. “Let’s go,” he mumbles. 

Stretching your arms above your head, you nod while yawning. 

You take tired steps alongside him on the short walk back to your apartment, not saying anything until you reach your doorstep when you yawn once more, looking up at him. “I actually had fun today, thanks for hanging out with me.” 

“Actually?” Heeseung raises a brow. “Did you think you wouldn’t?” 

You shrug, chewing on your lip. “I thought it might be awkward.” 

“It kind of was.” 

“Maybe,” you admit with a nod. “It was a pretty successful first date though.” Your eyes are like saucers as your hand flies up to cover your mouth. “Not in that way. I’m only saying ‘date’ because that’s what I said in the chat—I would’ve called it a date if Hoon came with me, you know? I didn’t see this as a date if that’s what you’re thinking. Because it wasn’t. And I didn’t.” 

“Mhm,” Heeseung hums with a sceptical look on his face, finding amusement in watching you scramble to correct yourself. “First dates are always awkward, baby, don’t worry.” The endearment slips out before he can help it, his heart stopping in his chest until he sees you smiling. 

“Well, yeah, but this wasn’t a date, baby.” 

“Are you sure? I mean, you made me pay for your train ticket, I paid for dinner and drinks. As far as first dates go, I’ve been a perfect gentleman all night.” 

“That you have.” You nod once, firmly. “I’m not going to pay you back or anything. And this is hardly our first date.” 

Heeseung grins despite himself. “Is this your way of saying I can bill you for our other dates? Do you have savings?” 

Your head falls back in laughter, the sound infectious as it falls from your lips. You sigh softly, straightening up after a beat and nudging his shoulder with your fist. “Stop making me laugh or I’ll do something stupid like kiss you.” 

His heart races in his chest, caught between your laugh and the thought that maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. “I feel like if we pulled up a typical date timeline we’d be right on track for that, don’t you think?” 

“Heeseung,” you mumble, face softening. It doesn’t seem like you’re finding this funny anymore. Your gaze locks on his lips — a hyper focus that makes him press them together nervously — before snapping up to meet his eyes. You gulp. “Goodnight, thank you for today.” 

“Anytime.” 

“Don’t say that or I’ll take you up on it.” 

Heeseung shrugs. “You say that like I’d have a problem with it.” 

“You wouldn’t?” 

“Never.” 

A small laugh comes through your nose as you smile up at him. “I’ll see you, let me know when you get home.” 

“Got it.” 

Wordlessly, you open the door, crossing the threshold before saying goodnight again. Heeseung says it back, watching you shut the door and waiting for the lock to click before he leaves. 

He’s never drinking with you again. 

Heeseung feels like he’s settling into the role of your friend quite well. So well that he can spend time alone with you without the discomfort he felt in September. Maybe he’s taking liberties, bending the word friendship to suit him, but as you lie in his bed together, your head on his chest as you nap, he can’t bring himself to care too much. He knows he’ll get hurt by this at some point, but for now, he’s just happy to play with your hair and try his best to fall asleep too. You don’t stir when Jay opens the door, stopping dead in his tracks at the sight before him, tilting his head before closing the door quietly. 

Sleep never reaches him, but he pretends to yawn, rubbing at his eyes when your alarm wakes you up, making a point to stretch his arms over his head and only respond to you in a lazy mumble when you speak. “Whose idea was it to nap between classes, again?”

“I think it was yours.”

“Damn,’ you mumble, yawning again before laying back down, head returning to his chest as if drawn by a magnet. “I think ten more minutes, fifteen, and then we wake up and go back.” 

“Or we could skip?” 

The suggestion makes you jolt upright, fully awake now. You let your eyes drag over his face, and maybe Heeseung’s being hopeful or straight-up imagining things, but your gaze lingers on his lips for more than a few seconds before you gulp and meet his eyes. “Lee Heeseung trying to skip class? I never thought I’d see the day.” A smile spreads over your lips, turning into a laugh as you throw your head back. “That was funny, Hee. Let’s go.’

Heeseung’s brows furrow, watching you stretch your arms out in front of you. Was it so hard to believe he would skip class if it meant spending more time with you? His lips settle into a pout. “I’m serious.”

“No, you’re scaring me. Come on, let’s go,” you say, making no attempts to get up. 

To prove a point, Heeseung shifts under the covers, lying on his side with his back to you. “You go ahead, I’m staying.” 

You sigh but don’t get out of bed, only lying down next to him and draping an arm over his waist. “Ten more minutes.” You press yourself against his back and he feels his heart racing. As quickly as he feels it, you stiffen behind him. “I’m not crossing a line, right? Holding you like this? It’s always been easier to sleep if you’re next to me,” you say into his shirt. 

Remembering the way you would cuddle into his side during sleepovers, his heart aches, wondering if you had endured the same sleepless nights as him. Heeseung only lifts your arm to turn onto his back, pulling you onto his chest like you had been earlier. “Fifteen,” he says. 

Seeing as neither of you bothered to set another alarm, you sleep through class, only waking up when it’s dark out and Jay comes back. “I bought dinner, come eat,” he says, leaving the door open on his way out. 

Wordlessly, you both peel yourselves from bed, dragging your feet to the kitchen to wash your hands before joining Jay in the living room. Heeseung sits cross-legged on the floor by the coffee table while you and Jay sit on the couch. He’s not awake enough to fully register your conversation over the rustle of plastic takeout bags and his sudden overwhelming hunger, but you’re telling Jay to shut up, mumbling something and he lets out an exaggerated groan, clutching his chest when Heeseung turns around to hand over your food. 

With his elbows on the table, he takes a bite from his burger and has to suppress a moan. Most of your conversation with Jay goes over his head and he doesn’t realise how much time has gone by until you’re standing at the door pulling on your shoes. Given the way Jay’s lying on the couch, Heeseung assumes he’s on walking-you-home duty and grabs a jacket before stuffing his feet into Jay’s slides. 

The conversation is light as you walk together, Heeseung making sure he’s on the edge of the pavement the whole time and letting you talk about your friends. The walk has become so natural now that he only realises you’re approaching home when you take out your key to open the door to your building. 

“Do you want to meet before class tomorrow? To go over the slides we missed today?” you ask, with something behind your eyes that Heeseung sleepily interprets as hope. 

He nods, smiling at you and waiting for you to lock the door before he leaves. 

Jay’s awake when Heeseung gets back home; he can’t say he’s surprised. Heeseung only nods at Jay, who sits on the couch, but he knows his flatmate well enough to know there’s a conversation coming because the TV is off and his laptop is shut. Heeseung makes it all the way to his door before Jay says anything. “You’re in way over your head.” 

Heeseung sighs, not in the mood. “Okay. Night,” he says, opening the door. 

By the time November arrives and Jake’s birthday approaches, everything is back to normal again. Turning nineteen, Jake celebrates with a modest pub crawl that spirals into a three-day bender, leaving him bedridden for nearly a week due to dehydration and fear of a test he’d forgotten to study for. 

In standard Jake fashion, he manages to bounce back and sits across from Jay at his favourite restaurant only six days after his actual birthday. Considering the state he was in, it’s a wonder he can stomach the smell of alcohol, let alone down four cocktails without a pause. Jay and Sunghoon exchange sighs, each supporting one of Jake’s sleeping arms on their shoulders to carry him home. 

“Cover the bill and let me know the amount. I’ll transfer you in the morning,” Jay mumbles before they leave. 

You shake your head when Heeseung asks if you want to go home as well. “Unless you want to,” you say, all of your words blending together. “If you want to go home, we can. I don’t want you sitting here bored or anything.” 

Heeseung smiles. “I’m not bored, we can stay as long as you like.” You seem to take this to heart, nodding and flagging down a waiter to order more drinks. “Let’s maybe slow down a little though,” he suggests. 

He pours you a glass of water and makes you drink the whole thing, withholding your alcohol until you’ve finished the cold tteokbokki in front of you. Gradually, you become more coherent, wiping your face with your hands and sitting up a little straighter. You thank him when he pours soju for you and take tiny sips from the glass here and there, telling Heeseung about some of the friends you made while you were away. There’s Yizhuo—sweet, funny, and down-to-earth. And Minjeong—a quiet girl who needed a while to warm up to new people. You tell him about meeting her for the first time, how unsure she seemed when Yizhuo introduced you two, but by the end of the night, she was falling asleep next to you in bed with her arms and legs tangled around you. 

“Do you miss them?” It’s a stupid question, anyone could tell from the fond smile on your face that you do. 

A beat passes while you think about it before shrugging. “Not as much as I missed being here.” If he wasn’t watching you, or looking you straight in the eye, he probably would’ve missed the longing in your gaze. 

He’s never known you to be subtle after a drink, and Heeseung knows he needs to nip this conversation in the bud before either of you says something you can’t take back. “How are you getting on with your research task?” he asks, while at the same time you say, “I’m so happy to be back.” 

A short laugh slips out of you, a hand falling to the table before wrapping around your glass. You bring it up to your face but don’t drink, only looking down into it as if it’ll tell you what to say. “Are you happy I’m back?” 

“Sure,” Heeseung says noncommittally. 

You sigh, sinking into your seat a little. “I loved you. I still love you,” you mumble. “Even after all that.” 

He’s not sure what to make of this, of anything you’re saying. It’s not like you had a messy breakup or anything. At least, he wouldn’t describe his long-term girlfriend breaking up with him and asking if they could be friends after as messy. Even in heartbreak, Heeseung was a reasonable person, and any reasonable person would’ve said no. Like he did. 

“I still.. You’re still the one for me.” 

His stomach lurches violently. “Don’t say that.” He gets out of his seat quicker than he means to and leaves you at the table, tapping his foot as he waits in line by the bar to pay the bill, praying he’s right about the two of you sitting at table ten when the cashier asks. With a folded receipt in his pocket and too much to think about, he returns to the table, only putting on his coat and mumbling, “Let’s go.” 

For some reason, you don’t seem to mirror his urgency, only finishing off the drink you had left in one go and sitting for a bit longer. He takes your jacket from the back of your chair and holds it open for you, helping you into it when you finally stand up. “Thanks,” you giggle.

Heeseung says nothing. 

The silence and fresh air outside are sobering as he watches an Uber driver through the app, very slowly moving from two minutes away to one before arriving. Maybe if you hadn’t said what you said at the table, he might have warmed to the idea of a forty-minute walk alone with you, but you did say those things and even the thought of this fifteen-minute car ride is unbearable when John (4.9 stars) pulls up on the curb outside. You thank Heeseung quietly when he opens the door for you, and against his better judgement, he walks over to the other side of the car and sits in the middle seat like he used to. 

Slow R&B murmurs through the speakers as the driver pulls off while Heeseung hums along. His thigh is pressed against yours but he does his best not to think about it, only chewing his lip when you rest your head on his shoulder. He lets his head rest on top of yours before regretting it.

He doesn’t move. 

It feels a little bit like the driver is playing Heeseung’s playlist, as every song he knows and loves seems to come on one after the other, steeping him in an odd comfort in the backseat of this car.

Your hand falls onto his knee so clumsily he’s sure it’s a mistake, so sure you’ll move it back into your lap that he’s genuinely surprised when you don’t. Unsure what to do, he chooses not to acknowledge it, acting like you sitting so close to him, like the feeling that no time has passed, doesn’t make his heart clench. Slowly but surely, your hand inches up his thigh—a motion Heeseung stops as soon as he realises, his hand falling heavily over yours and pushing it back to his knee. He thinks about keeping it there, but when he feels his thumb stroking your skin, he moves his hand immediately. You’ve obviously gotten the wrong idea. For a moment, he wonders if you’ve actually gotten the right idea. You have. But it can’t happen like this. After a few minutes, you move your hand again, and like before, Heeseung pushes it back, keeping his hand over yours and reminding himself not to move his thumb.

You’re drunk. This will pass. 

Finally, the driver parks outside your building, and Heeseung’s sure his “thank you so much” holds the world’s sincerity in it as he unbuckles his seatbelt and practically leaps out of the car. He opens your door and has to undo your belt for you, helping you out and thanking the driver again. 

There’s a couple leaving the building when the two of you reach the door, and with your arms wrapped around his, he thanks them when they hold it open.

The lift takes forever to come and Heeseung pushes the up button five times before it arrives. He lets the girl in fleecy pyjamas with a takeout bag in her hand go in first before following, pressing the button reading 7 before relaxing a bit. Under the protection of a stranger, he knows you won’t do anything. The journey to your floor feels like hours as the lift drags its way up the shaft—why does nothing share his urgency? 

You don’t say anything until the elevator door swooshes shut behind you. “I love you, Heeseung. You know I love you.” You’re saying everything he’s been wanting you to say for ages, but the words make his words sting. 

“Do you know where your keys are?” he asks, though you still have a ways to go before you reach your door. 

“My pocket,” you mumble. 

Heeseung finds your keys, unlocks the door and helps you in. As much as he wants to leave, he knows if he does, you won’t take your makeup off or change, so he holds your hair back for you as you brush your teeth and wash your face in the sink quietly. 

In your bedroom, you search through your drawers, pulling out something to wear. He turns his back to you and ends up face-to-face with an old photo of the two of you from school. 

“You can look, Hee.”

Drawn to the picture, he doesn’t reply. The boys are in it too, but it feels like you two are the focus. Everyone’s smiling at the camera except Heeseung, who — with his arm around you — stares at the side of your face with a lopsided smile. Happiness radiates from his being, lighting his eyes and face.

“I want you to look.” The softness and desperation in your voice tug his heart.

“Come on ba—” Heeseung sighs. “Just get dressed, yeah?” 

You don’t say anything but he can hear the rustle of your clothes as you change. 

Jealousy blooms in his chest, looking at himself three years ago. Happy and full of love for you and your friends, for life. Everything was so easy then. His chest tightens and he has to close his eyes.

Heeseung feels you next to him, hears your jewellery falling into the clay holder on your dresser and opens his eyes, looking at you. You’re in a t-shirt he’s sure belongs to Jake and struggling with the clasp on your necklace. He knows you want him to help but he feels like he can’t move.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but I really do want to be with you,” you say when you finally get the necklace off. “And I know I’m too late, but I didn’t break up with you because I didn’t want to be with you.” 

You’re so close the peppermint on your breath hits him like a wave. A distinct smell of citrus and summer, of Jake, comes from your body, mixed up with the scent of you in a way that makes him uneasy. 

He gets a headache trying to make sense of your words, if it wasn’t that you didn’t want to be with him, then what was it? Even back then, you didn’t elaborate, you just repeated his name and the words: it’s not your fault, over and over until they sounded made up. Heeseung can’t entertain this conversation, not now. Not when you’re drunk and looking up at him with longing in your eyes. “I think we need to get you to bed,” Heeseung mumbles, taking a step back. “I’ll get you some water.”

“But I’m here now and we can be together again.”

“You moving was never the problem. You know that wasn’t the problem.” A tear slips down your cheek and he softens immediately. “I wanted to go with you, I was going to go with you.” 

You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, frowning. “This university was your dream. How could I let you give up your scholarship for me?”

“You were my dream,” he admits. “And it wasn’t your decision to make.” 

“You would have made the wrong one.” 

Heeseung scoffs. “Do you think breaking up was the right one?” 

Your silence is brutally telling. You squeeze your eyes shut as if trying to magic yourself out of the conversation, but it only makes more tears fall. A realisation hits him like a truck: you’re thinking about it. A painful lump forms in his throat. How could you have anything to think about? How was breaking up with him, not the single worst decision you’ve ever made? He can’t believe you could have let go so easily if you loved him. Long distance wouldn’t have been easy, but surely if you loved him, you would have made it work. You would have tried. Heeseung wishes he hadn’t asked at all.

“I do,” you say finally, opening your eyes to look at him.

His heart is heavy in his chest. “Okay.”

“Heeseung.”

“What?” 

A stomach-churning sob falls out of you. “I don’t know.” 

Another silence weighs the room down and Heeseung knows what he needs to do. He sighs. “Let’s just.. I should go.” 

You don’t put up a fight, you don’t say anything, only letting your shoulders droop before you sigh and lead Heeseung to the front door. He says goodbye as he puts his shoes on and all you do is watch as he leaves your apartment. He waits for you to close the door and lock it before walking away.

Heeseung walks all the way home and only cries when he closes his door, sliding down the back of it like something from a movie. With tears in his eyes, and his knees to his chest, he pulls out his phone to text you. I hope your hangover isn’t too bad, he types. Let’s only talk when we need to.

The two of you manage to hold this up, with you finding others to sit with during classes, and no one seeming to question Heeseung’s skipping plans or new close friendship with Mark’s group who he spends time with between classes instead. But as always, things have a funny way of going different to how Heeseung expected them to. 

After three weeks of near radio silence, Jay barges into his room with his face scrunched up. “What are you doing?” 

“Right now?” Heeseung asks, confused. Standing by the bed with the corner of his duvet in his hand, in nothing but his underwear, he thinks his plans look a little obvious. “I’m about to jerk off.”

Jay rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “You know what I mean.” 

“Evidently, I do not.” 

“Why don’t you hang out with us anymore?” he asks, squinting at Heeseung. 

“We’re hanging out right now.”

“Forgive me if I don’t count an impromptu circle jerk as hanging out.”

“I don’t.. want to do that.”

Jay clutches his chest. “I’m crushed.” 

Heeseung studies his expression. Serious, an inch of concern pooling in his eyes. “We dated for six years, she dumped me, I turned into a shell of myself, but she moved back home and we’re all friends again, so I think things are looking up for me.”

A deep sigh leaves Jay as he sits on the bed. “What happened at the bar with YN three weeks ago when we all left?” 

“Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“What exactly counts as ordinary for you two?”

Heeseung’s still trying to figure that out. He shrugs. “Making the right decisions.” 

“So you’re okay?”

“Never better.’

“You don’t have to lie to me, you know?” There’s a sincere look on Jay’s face as he leans back on his hands.

“Which is why I’m being honest.” 

It doesn’t seem like Jay’s going to let this go, but to Heeseung’s surprise, he smiles. “Perfect,” he says, standing up from the bed and walking over to the mirror where he checks himself out. “Because she and the guys are going to be here in ten. Put some clothes on.”

He does just that, pulling some shorts over his hips and a shirt over his head before pulling the two bean bag chairs stacked next to the couch to sit in front of the TV, claiming one of them with his body by sinking into it. The cosy material is soft against his thighs and he wonders why they don’t use them more. 

Ten minutes go by like seconds when Jay gets up to answer the door, laughing at something one of you says before leading you all into the living room. He’s watching some show Jay left on, greeting you and the boys with a wave before turning back to the TV. Behind him, the four of you laugh and talk on the couch but Heeesung’s too wrapped up in an argument on screen to join in. His attention only falters when he reaches for the open six-pack on the coffee table. It’s barely out of his reach, so he turns around to take a beer, trying to ignore the way his heart sinks in his chest seeing you and Jay cuddled up together. It’s friendly, he knows that. Jay’s with Yunjin and you’re.. He’s still not sure, but it hurts nonetheless. You’re bickering over a bowl of popcorn and he only laughs when you throw a handful at him. 

The red speaker Sunghoon’s holding chimes three times when he turns it on, a Frank Ocean thudding out of it that drowns out the show he’s watching, leaving him to follow along with the subtitles instead. But he can’t focus. 

Heeseung tries to settle his heartache, comforting himself with the thought of the two of you in another reality. One where it’s him instead of Jay. Or one where you come over and sit with him, curling up in his lap, pouting because Jay’s being mean. He pictures himself stroking your hair and kissing away your pout, holding you into his chest when Jake and Sunghoon start teasing you. In this reality, however, he watches you peel Jay’s shirt from his chest and dump a handful of popcorn in the gap, cackling to yourself at the clear frustration he doesn’t verbalise. Heeseung sighs, looking back at the TV and taking a sad sip of his sad beer. 

After a while, you fall into the beanbag next to him, sprawling out over the whole thing and looking at him. “Hey, Heeseung.” 

“Hello.” 

“I’m sorry about that night.” Your voice is quiet, clearly apologetic if the way you don’t meet his eyes is anything to go by.

“Okay.” Heeseung nods and a beat passes. “I meant what I said, what I texted you.” It hurts to say but it’s for the best. He stands up out of the beanbag, making a show of stretching his arms and legs before sinking into the couch next to Jake. Over Jake’s slouched form, Jay shoots him a look, arching a brow. Heeseung only stages a chuckle, shrugging before looking at the TV again. He can’t make sense of anything on the screen. 

Sunghoon emerges from Jay’s room with a grin on his face, asking when you’re going to eat. In standard fashion, the four of you stand around Jay in the kitchen, bothering him by telling him what to do like he’s a child as he puts frozen pizza and some garlic bread in the oven. 

“The middle one’s the timer,” Jake says, pointing at the knobs above the oven door. “It’s there so you can set how long the food needs to cook for, and after you set it, it’ll go off so you know it’s ready.”

“But it’s all up to you and your discretion. You can open the door whenever you want to check on everything,” you coo, patting his shoulder.

If Jay’s actually annoyed, nothing about his smile gives it away as he nods with a clenched fist, closing the door and sitting next to Heeseung on the countertop. Heeseung’s almost too busy focusing on the way his beer heats his stomach to notice the way you watch him with a small frown from barely an arm’s length away. Sunghoon picks up on your declining mood and thrusts an open bottle into your hand. “We like to drink with—” He’s cut off by Jay taking the bottle and setting it behind you on the counter, mumbling cut it out, dude, and tugging you out of the kitchen by the arm when he notices the tears in your eyes. 

He hears Jay’s door close and nobody says anything until the timer goes off and Jay comes back alone, filling a plate with food and going back to his room. 

“Thanks for dinner,” Jake says to the back of Jay’s head, offbeat and half smiling as he washes his hands in the sink. 

Sitting at the table, he watches Jake and Sunghoon eat while pretending nothing’s wrong. 

At the end of the night, when everyone’s gone home, Heeseung gets into bed, barely managing to pull the duvet up when there’s a knock at his door. “Yeah?” he calls out. Jay appears with his arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he says quickly. 

Jay regards him with a frown. “I didn’t even say anything.” 

“You were going to.” 

“Yeah.” He nods, and Heeseung prepares himself for a lecture. “I was going to say, I’m going home next week, for Christmas, so I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.” 

The holidays go by in a soju and tteokguk-filled blur, with Heeseung choosing to stay at home until the day of his first class of the second semester so he doesn’t have to be around you. He tells himself it’s for the good of your friend group, as he watches you all make plans in the group chat through notification bubbles, so he doesn’t leave a read receipt. 

The commute is more jarring than he realised. What had been a twenty-minute drive turns into an hour-long journey, including a thirty-minute walk to the train station ‘near’ house, fifteen minutes on the train into the city centre, and another fifteen minutes on foot to campus. He’s drenched in sweat despite the below-zero temperature and has to make a stop to the bathroom to sort himself out.

He arrives early at least, finding the room where his Ethnography: Theory and Practice 2 class is set to start in fifteen minutes. The only indicator that he’s in the right place is the lecturer’s name and contact information written in the top corner of a whiteboard, and Heeseung picks the seat furthest from the door. It’s an elective class and, judging by the nine empty chairs next to him, not a very popular one. He’s relieved at least that he’ll be able to start off the semester without running into anyone he knows, least of all you. As seats start filling up and the lecturer arrives, he’s feeling unusually lucky. 

So, of course, you show up, running a hand through your hair as you walk through the open door, apologising for being late even though there are still two minutes until the class is scheduled to begin. Of course, the only empty seat is the one next to him, which you sit in without looking at him, making an effort to angle your body away from him. Of course, the lecturer assigns a presentation for two weeks time, pairing the class with the person they’re sitting beside. Neither you nor Heeseung say a word to each other, but you raise your hand when prompted to pick a topic to cover. He can’t help his irritation at you for making the decision without asking him, but you look so nice in your hoodie with your hair tied up that his annoyance settles before it has a chance to bloom. 

“YN YLN and Heeseung Lee, we’ll do music and cultural expression,” you say, picking the topic he wanted to do anyway. 

When class is over, you’re quick to get out of your seat, pulling on your jacket and stuffing your laptop back into your bag before leaving so quickly that Heeseung has to leave his stuff behind to go after you. You don’t stop walking when he calls out your name, and too scared to make a scene, he overtakes you, leaving you with no option but to stop in front of him. 

“We should go to the library, get the research and shit out of the way ASAP,” he suggests.

You nod, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Yeah, okay, I’m going to get my stuff.”

You follow him back to class, watching from the door as he puts his things in his bag before putting on his jacket. You don’t say anything on the walk to the library, when you get there, or when you browse the Cultural Studies section. Heeseung glances at you and you’re chewing on your lip, crouching a bit to read the spines of the books on the lower shelves. “Are you alright?” he asks with genuine concern. 

You look up at him, nodding. 

“Are you sure? Because you haven’t said anything in an hour.”

This makes you straighten up, your brows furrowing in an expression he can’t figure out. “Sorry, Heeseung,” you say, your voice weak. “I’m just trying to figure out if you think I need to talk right now.” 

“Obviously, a paired project is a situation where we need to talk.” 

You sigh, muttering oh, my God, before you look at him. “You know what, I’m going home. Let’s do this tomorrow.” 

“We have class in twenty minutes.” 

“Yeah, I’ll read the slides when I get in.”

Unsure what to say, he watches you walk away, deciding that he should just go home too. 

At the flat he hasn’t seen in five weeks, Heeseung feels slightly out of place, going straight to his room and into bed, not even getting up when he hears Jay coming home. Jay opens the door without knocking, his mouth falling into an excited ‘o’ shape. “Hey, stranger,” he says. “I thought you weren’t coming back, so I started advertising your room on Gumtree.” 

“Any offers?”

“No one as good as you.” Heeseung doesn’t have to look at Jay to know he’s smiling. “Move over,” he mumbles, lifting the duvet. 

Lazily, he rolls over in bed, making room for Jay who makes himself comfortable under the covers. 

“What are you doing, Heeseung?” 

“Trying to sleep.” 

“Talk to me, help me understand.” Jay sighs and Heeseung’s lips curl into a frown. “You’re my best friend,” Jay says quietly, with a tenderness that strikes him. 

“You’re my best friend,” Heeseung repeats like an affirmation. 

“So why won’t you talk to me?”

There’s a subtle hurt in Jay’s voice that upsets Heeseung, who shifts around to lie on his back. “I don’t think there’s anything I can tell you that YN hasn’t already.” 

“She only told me that she fucked up.”

Hearing it from someone else’s mouth makes it sound drastic, especially considering he’s the one who left. Again. But he’s too bitter to say that out loud so he bites his tongue. “Seems to be the theme in our relationship.” The words taste rotten when he says them.

“Just because you’re my best friend doesn’t mean you get to be a dick,” Jay says. “What happened?” 

It takes some time but Heeseung explains everything, letting Jay ask questions and make comments until the end when he looks away, pressing his eyes shut and saying, “Oh.” 

“Oh?”

“I don’t think I get it. Boy loves girl. Girl loves boy. Why can’t you just be together already?”

Everything sounds painfully simple when it’s put like that. But there’s too much between you both for it to go that way. It’s not like he didn’t want to be with you when you confessed, it’s that he didn’t know how he could without knowing why you left him in the first place. Without knowing what he did that was so terrible you couldn’t stand to be in a relationship with him, never mind the same area code. 

A beat passes before Heeseung speaks. “There was something wrong, and instead of trying to fix it, she just.. gave up. I would’ve done anything she asked me to. I could’ve changed, could’ve fixed things, but she didn’t even tell me.” 

“Maybe she didn’t feel like she could. I don’t think she wanted to hurt you, Heeseung.” 

“But she did.” 

“Yeah,” Jay admits, sympathy lacing the word. 

“How can I be with her knowing there’s some awful part of me she hates?” 

“It’s not like that, not really.” 

“What’s it like then?”

“I’m not sure it’s my place to say.” 

Heeseung laughs, shaking his head. “Do you keep my secrets as dutifully as you keep hers?” 

“Are you kidding? She doesn’t even know you have secrets.” Jay sounds exhausted as he speaks, and it’s the last sound to come from him until a few minutes pass and Heeseung hears him snoring. 

You didn’t reply when Heeseung texted you asking to meet in the library before class, but you show up anyway, pulling out the seat across from him and dumping your bag on the table. “I don’t know if you saw the email, but the partner work is just for the presentation.” 

“Cool.” he nods, relieved. 

“I think after that, I’ll start hanging out with Yunjin instead, so you’re not uncomfortable.” 

Heeseung frowns, shaking his head. “I’m not uncomfortable around you,” he says. “I just don’t.. get you. You dump me and move as far away as you can. Now you’re back and what? You love me again?” 

You furrow your brows, inspecting him for a moment before you speak. “I don’t love you again, Heeseung. I’ve loved you this whole time.” 

“So why didn’t you choose me? I just wanted you to choose me.” He’s too anxious to know the truth to worry about how desperate he must sound. Until he notices that the guys sitting at the other end of the tables are watching him, their brows arched sharply in a mixture of shock and curiosity. Heeseung runs a hand over his face, hoping the motion might wipe away the flush burning his cheeks.

“You wanted me to choose you over my future?” 

“I could’ve been your future, part of it. I’d never ask you to choose me over university, you know I wouldn’t. I’m saying you could’ve had both.” 

“It wasn’t as easy as that.” 

“Why not?” 

“Heeseung,” you say like it’s an answer. 

“Just tell me why you didn’t want me. That’s all I want to know.” 

The following silence makes him consider packing up abruptly and faking an emergency. He’s sure he could probably fake his death if he slumps in his chair slowly enough. 

You sigh heavily, interrupting his train of thought—now, he’s wondering if he even wants to know. “Because you would’ve put me first,” you say, avoiding his gaze. “If I stayed here or moved away, I would’ve been your top priority and I couldn’t let you throw away everything you worked for, for me.” 

“I loved you, of course, you were my top priority.” He can’t believe he even has to say it, can’t believe you might have thought you weren’t the single most important thing in his life. 

“Heeseung, you were sacrificing your life for me. You missed your cousin’s engagement party to help me study for a history test, you deferred your scholarship entry by a year just so we could go to college at the same time. How could I keep letting you miss out on your life?” 

“Deferring my entry wasn’t just for you,” he lies. “And it’s not like I missed the wedding.” 

“But I think you would’ve if I stubbed my toe.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?” 

You sigh again, shaking your head. “Do you hear yourself? You can’t keep living like that, you can’t just throw everything away. You’re such a hard worker, Heeseung, and I’d hate to see you waste that over some girl.” 

“But you’re you. You weren’t just ‘some girl’ you were my girl.” He doesn’t mean to say it but it’s true. “We were in high school and I was studying constantly; it didn’t matter back then. And you were so far away, it’s not like I could feasibly drop everything and go to you every time something happened.” 

“Heeseung.” 

“You had a choice.” 

“Heeseung.” 

The way you’re saying his name reminds him of your breakup—the pink walls of your childhood bedroom and the pictures of the two of you stuck up all over them, in frames on your desk, and stickers on your light switch. How they seemed to close in around him as he put all of his energy into staying on two feet, instead of falling to the floor and begging you on hands and knees to stay with him. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me? I’ve spent the last year and a half wondering what I did wrong, I don’t understand why you didn’t just tell me.” We could’ve tried, he wants to say. I could have changed and we could’ve tried. 

“I didn’t want you to lose that. I felt really lucky that you loved me like that, and I didn’t want to rob someone else of it, you know. I thought maybe you’d find a balance with someone someday, but I didn’t think that person would be me.” 

Heeseung has to put in an effort to stop his jaw from dropping. How could there ever be someone else? How could you ever think he could have someone else? There’s so much he wants to say, to ask, but he can tell by the way you press your lips together that you’re done with the conversation. 

“It’s not too late.” 

You tilt your head at him. “What?” 

“In your room that night, you said you were too late,” he explains. “I love you.”

“Still?” 

His heart shifts uncomfortably in his chest at the tone of your voice and the way your eyebrows shoot up. “Always,” he says. 

A smile starts to curve your lips, but it slips before it has a chance to bloom, stifled happiness that you cover with your hands, hiding your face completely. “I don’t think we should talk about this here.” Your palms muffle the words but not their impact; you’re right and he knows it. 

It’s been a year—the longest of his life, and the hard part is already over. He knows now and he’ll do anything he can to fix it. “Right.” Heeseung nods but you’re not looking at him. He’s going to fix it. For now, though, he says, “What’s our research topic again?” Despite having had Music and Cultural Expression typed into the search bar since before you arrived. 

With Heeseung’s work ethic and your commitment to being the best, the presentation goes quite smoothly. You make no mistakes, and Heeseung, distracted by how pretty you look in professional attire, manages to stumble through the script he’d rehearsed. The two of you even win the first place prize — satisfaction that you got a perfect score — and celebrate with coffee afterwards. 

Between the four walls of the campus café, you and Heeseung sip lattes that taste like temperature — still too hot to have a real flavour — and laugh with each other about something Jay said when you all hung out last night. Neither of you mentions your conversation from two weeks ago, deciding instead to fall into the patterns of your first term together: napping in his bed after class and coming up with excuses for alone time. He makes an effort to follow through with his commitments, even when you ask him to hang out, to show you that he’s different now. If you’ve noticed, you haven’t said anything about it, but Heeseung tells himself it’s a good thing while missing shots on the court with Mark, too hung up on you to focus on anything else. The only thing left is to figure out a way to be yours again and do everything he can to make sure he doesn’t lose you. 

Over your shoulder, through the window, the sun slips below the horizon, casting long shadows around the café. He takes a deep breath when he looks at you, smiling down at your phone as you take a picture of your half-drunk latte and the milky swirls still peeking through your coffee. A tangible determination settles in his chest as evening’s first stars appear in the sky, he knows one thing for sure: he has to grab the chance to be yours again with both hands, and once it’s his, he won’t let go this time. 

The café may be clearing out, but his heart is full of hope and for the time being, sitting with you as a friend is.. fine. 

You’d often imagined what it would be like if you hadn’t broken up with Lee Heeseung. 

Most of your first year was spent daydreaming about him in all of your usual hangouts. Sometimes, at drinks with your friends, you envisioned him showing up, a smile on his face as he apologised for being late. He’d slide into the booth next to you, wrap his arm around your shoulders and kiss your cheek. Other times you imagined him showing up to surprise you, sitting on a bench in the quad and grinning when he saw you leaving. He’d run up to you with open arms and a bouquet in his hand, wrapping you in a hug and whispering that he missed you too much to wait another day to see you. You would even fall asleep thinking about FaceTime calls that stayed on overnight or drunken texts after the club, misspelt I love yous and can’t wait to see yous filling your text thread. 

You didn’t tell your new friends much about him, briefly mentioning a partner you’d watched some film with or an artist he liked if they came up, and most nights were spent begging Jay to send you Heeseung’s social media posts and tell you every detail of the day they had without you. Based on accounts from Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon, it seemed like he was getting on well, a fact that — while hurtful — pushed you to try and do the same. After a month of avoiding your flatmates, you finally managed to connect with them, going to various social events around campus and rolling your eyes any time a drunk guy complimented you. 

This is why it took you by surprise to see him at Mark Lee’s party in the summer—sitting alone in the garden, in sweatpants and a flannel, looking at his phone with a deep frown etched over his lips. When you think about it, it feels like so long has passed since then and it’s hard to believe it wasn’t even a year ago. 

Being back in Heeseung’s life has been more challenging than you thought it would be when you filled out your transfer application. Especially in the weeks since you finished your presentation together, since you suggested the library might not have been the right place for the conversation you were having and never followed up on. 

Now doesn’t seem like the right time either—you’re sitting on the floor in Jake and Sunghoon’s living room with your back against the couch, sharing a blanket with Heeseung. Jay left about an hour ago to go to Yunjin’s, leaving the four of you to your own devices. You know you can’t bring it up with Jake and Sunghoon around, but you’ve had plenty of opportunities to over the last month. 

When you finished your celebratory lattes, Heeseung walked you home. The sky was a perfect inky black, and it was cold enough to see your breath, just the way he liked, so cold he offered you his jacket to wear. He didn’t say anything about it, only shrugging it off and setting it gently over your shoulders, shocking you so much that you stopped walking. The scent of his cologne, dark and woody, was overwhelming as you slid your arms into the sleeves, zipping it up and after three paces without you, Heeseung turned his head with wide eyes. You could have said it then, you wanted to say it then, but you bit your tongue and thanked him instead. He smiled, gulping when you closed the gap, you should have kissed him, he was close enough, his lips just a tip-toe and tilted head away, but you hugged him instead. 

After that, the two of you had all the time in the world together. Between your shared classes and going for meals alone. All the time you’d spend in his living room together, cosy on the couch when Jay would go to sleep. So many moments to talk, to get back together, but the words would die in your throat every time you thought them. It all seemed too cheesy or not cheesy enough, too dramatic or too casual, you couldn’t strike a balance and had no idea how to even find one. 

Last night was probably the most jarring occasion. Yunjin and Chaewon had been trying to convince you to go the club all week but you just weren’t in the mood. They seemed happy enough when you suggested hosting pres—but now you think they’d been hoping you’d be so drunk you’d just agree to go out. Yunjin brought half a litre of vodka and Chaewon brought a soup flask with enough murky cocktail in it to feed a small family. Together, the three of you drank and gossiped around the small table in your living room, with Chaewon’s phone in a glass to amplify her playlist. After taking a whiff of whatever she brought, you and Yunjin decided — for everyone’s wellbeing — to hide her flask and take shots of vodka, finishing off the cider you had left in the fridge. 

“Please come out,” Yunjin begged. “I’ll feel bad leaving you here, all pretty and drunk by yourself.” 

“I’ll feel bad too!” Chaewon added, clasping her hands. “Not bad enough to stay with you, but I’ll probably have less fun.” 

You shook your head. “I don’t even have an outfit.” The words were like music to their ears and you regretted them as soon as you said them. Both girls grabbed you by the hand, tugging you to your room and flinging open your wardrobe. Yunjin looked for a top and Chaewon for a skirt, though both of them gasped when they saw the dress you wore for Heeseung’s birthday. Chaewon pulled it from the rack, holding it out in front of her. 

“We won’t pay for anything if you wear this,” she squealed before she and Yunjin started chanting: Free booze! Free booze! 

You sighed, thinking of Heeseung and shook your head again. That dress, though beautiful, hadn’t been enough for him to lose all composure and skip the party in favour of fucking you into the mattress, and you didn’t love the idea of guys that weren’t him ogling you all night. “Anything but that dress.” 

Yunjin and Chaewon seemed sad, but you were able to distract them by bringing out the disaster cocktail the oldest girl brewed earlier, pouring each of them half a glass and ordering an Uber to come and take them away. You promised them you’d go out next time, locking your pinkies with theirs and closing the door behind them. 

Alone in your room, with nothing but thoughts of Heeseung to keep you company, you called him. He answered right away. You can’t remember exactly what you said but you remember the soft sigh he let out when you said it. You could practically see him tilting his head, weighing his options. 

“I’m trying to get a paper finished, it’s due Monday,” he said finally. 

“But it’s Thursday.” 

“Yeah, and I want to have my weekend free. If you’re still up when I’m done, I’ll come over, okay?” 

You nodded. “Okay.” 

Heeseung hung up after that and you got out of bed to clean up, hoping the time would fly. It didn’t, but your flat was clean again so you pretended not to mind. 

He called you after midnight. “Do you still want me to come over?” he asked, breathless. 

“Please.” There was a knock on your door after you spoke and you mumbled hold on before going to check it. Warped by the peephole, you saw Heeseung standing there, holding his phone to his ear and playing with the zipper on his jacket. He hugged you when you opened the door, asking if you were okay. “Perfect,” you said, looking into his eyes. 

His pretty face scrunched up and he pinched his nostrils shut with his fingers, turning his head. “Well, you smell like a distillery.”

Heeseung stood in the doorway of the bathroom while you brushed your teeth, grinning every time his eyes met yours in the mirror. Tell him now, you thought. You have to tell him now. Those thoughts nagged you as you gargled mouthwash, plagued you when you hugged him again and tortured you when he carried you to bed. 

He stiffened when kissed his jaw. “You can’t do that,” he mumbled, setting you down under the duvet. “Not now.” 

Then when? you wanted to say. “I’m sorry,” you said.

Heeseung sighed, shaking his head. “No, it’s just.. It’s okay.” 

Neither of you spoke after that, you made room for him on the bed and he lay down next to you, let you rest your head on his chest and played with your hair until you fell asleep. He was gone when you woke up in the morning but he left a glass of water and some paracetamol on your end table, along with a note. 

I had to go to class and you wouldn’t wake up :(  We’ll talk about everything soon, we have to. See you at Jake and Sunghoon’s later? 

— Your Hee. 

If you hadn’t been drunk he might have been okay with the kiss, he might have looked down at you and kissed you properly. You might have talked last night, fixed things—you’ve never regretted drinking so much in your life. 

Things are better tonight at least. You’ve been nursing the same can of cider since you arrived a few hours ago and Heeseung’s only had two sips of his beer, so hopefully, if you get some alone time, the two of you can finally talk. You’re still not sure what you should say, if you should apologise for waiting so long, for leaving in the first place. It seemed like a good idea at the time, applying elsewhere. You didn’t even think you’d get in but you knew you’d never forgive yourself if you didn’t at least take the chance. It seemed like a sign when the acceptance letter reached your inbox before the term had finished, an unconditional offer to a high-ranking university, you couldn’t pass it up. And knowing Heeseung as well as you did, you knew he’d do anything to be by your side when you needed him, you knew he’d drop everything to move with you if you let him. You’d owe him forever. It wouldn’t be fair on either of you. 

You called Jay in tears after a month away, telling him you made a mistake, that you needed to come back and had already filled out a transfer application. He convinced you to at least stay until the end of term, to actually make friends with the girls you were living with and see how you felt. A week later, he, Jake and Sunghoon showed up on your doorstep with chocolate and booze, hoping your room was big enough for all of them to stay for the weekend, it wasn’t, not really, but for three nights, the four of you slept head to toe in your bed after eating your body weights in pizza and ice cream. There was no talk of Heeseung, even though you begged them, and by the time they left, you felt much better. At the end of your first year, you quietly submitted your transfer application and shared a tearful goodbye with Yizhuo and Minjeong before finally flying back home. The boys seemed happy to have you back, even if it meant sneaking around to hang out with you—A nudge pulls you out of your thoughts, Heeseung.

“Are you okay?” he asks. 

When you look at him, it feels like the wind has been knocked out of you. His eyes are brimmed with concern, wide and beautiful, a deep brown you’ll never get sick of. His lips are curved into a soft pout, a crease running along his brow that you want to smooth out. 

Heeseung relaxes a little when you nod, but he seems unconvinced. “You sure?” 

You reach up to poke his cheek, grinning when he turns his head, trying to fight a smile. “I’m good,” you say, pressing a dimple into his cheek anyway. 

He holds your finger in his hands, unclenching your fist and locking his fingers with yours. A wide grin stretches over your lips as you plead with your cheeks to stop burning. Jake’s hand interrupts the moment, falling from the couch, limp and curled into a fist that smacks the back of your head. He’s fast asleep, not stirring at all even when Heeseung laughs. 

Unfortunately, you lose rock, paper, scissors and have to wake Jake up. He shifts a little on the couch when you shake him, whining at you to stop and scrunching up his face at you. Heeseung and Sunghoon eventually sigh, grabbing him by the arms and legs to carry him to bed. 

Both boys return, laughing about something and Heeseung sits down next to you again while Sunghoon leans in the doorway, yawning. “You two can have my room,” he says, cutting his eyes at you. “No funny business though, I just changed my sheets.” 

You chuckle nervously and Heeseung makes a show of hiding his face in the crook of your neck, much to Sunghoon’s visible dismay. He clutches the doorframe so hard you see his knuckles paling and uses his free hand to point a stern finger in your direction. “I mean it,” is the last thing he says before leaving. 

“Sorry,” Heeseung mumbles when the door closes. “It’s just so funny teasing him.” He’s grinning when he lifts his head and runs a shaking hand through his hair. “Anyway, you still haven’t told me about your group project.”

A sigh curls out of you, dramatic and loud as you let your head fall back against the couch at the thought of it. You brought it up in passing on Monday after class and spent the rest of the week pretending it didn’t exist. 

“Damn,” he mutters. “That bad?” 

You don’t have many friends in your Archaeology class, but you always look forward to it — because you’re covering Ancient Egypt — and enjoy it. But this morning, you slept in, arriving late, to find your lecturer assigning groups for a project weighing 25% of your final grade. She put the groups together based on where people were sitting, which left you, standing in the doorway fighting for breath, being added to a group of boys you shared a seminar with last term. They never contributed, and rarely showed up, constantly sending messages in the class Whatsapp group to ask if anyone had the tutorial answers. The sinking feeling that your project was doomed before it began plagued you throughout the lecture and all the way to lunch with Yunjin afterwards. Even though it doesn’t have anything to do with the story, you tell him in meticulous detail about your time with her that day. Thankfully, you’re sober so don’t admit that you spent a lot of the meal exchanging increasingly ridiculous ideas to get him back. 

Heeseung is just as beautiful and good at listening as always, nodding his head and uhm-ing and ah-ing at all the right parts. Until his gaze changes for a split second into something so soft and so sweet that it leaves a mark on your heart. “I was pissed about it earlier, but now I’m here, with you, and I want you to be my boyfriend again,” you say, jaw hanging open as soon as the words come out. 

His eyes widen, lips parting in shock. Then his brows furrow, pushing a crease into his forehead. 

“I know what you’re going to say and I’m sorry.” You start running damage control and pray that Jake or Sunghoon will wake up and come back. “I really didn’t mean to say that, especially not now when we haven’t talked about everything. But you looked at me, Heeseung. You really looked at me just now and I can’t pretend I don’t want to be with you. I’m sorry, really, but it’s your fault I said that.” 

Mortified, you cover your face with your hands. “Can you say something now?” you ask, mumbling into the heels of your palms. 

All he says is your name and a pit forms in your stomach. “God, anything but that,” you groan. 

Heeseung chuckles, which you think is a good thing. “Would it be better if I called you baby?” 

“In what context?” 

Holding your breath, you watch as he presses his lips together, humming as he tilts his head. “Term of endearment between a girlfriend and her boyfriend.” 

You lift your head, separating your fingers to see him properly through the space and the pit in your stomach dissolves into something live, butterflies fluttering in a frenzy from the look on his face. The gentle curve of his lips, the warmth in his eyes, and the slight flush on his cheeks all make your head spin. 

“Really?”

Heeseung nods so hard his hair follows the movement. “Yes, baby.” 

“Can we kiss now?” 

“Maybe if you move your hands out of the way.”

“I don’t like maybe.”

“Definitely if you move your hands out of the way,” he corrects. 

You can’t bring yourself to move, worried that the sudden motion might disrupt something, might knock you out of the moment. Heeseung laughs, so softly it sounds like an exhale, as he takes your wrists in his hands, tugging gently. With your face in full view, his eyes flit over your features for a beat before he cups your cheek in his hand, dragging his thumb over the soft skin of your lips. 

You don’t even realise he’s leaning in until his lips touch yours. There’s a rush of something in your chest, an intense warmth surrounding your heart. His lips are softer than ever, gentle as he kisses you like you might break—you think you might. Nothing is better than this, better than having Heeseung’s lips on yours after all this time. You lean into him completely, pressing your body impossibly close to his and twirling your fingers around the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“I love you,” he whispers, barely pulling away. “I love you so much.” 

You can’t bring yourself to reply, emotions too close to the surface, tears too close to spilling. Instead, you smile into the kiss, somehow holding him closer and hoping he’ll understand. He pulls back, just enough to gaze into your eyes with a look of pure affection. He doesn’t press for words, a reassuring smile tugging his lips. 

He understands, Heeseung always understands. 

Sunghoon’s sheets are soft against your skin when you wake up, tickling your nose with the scent of detergent and Heeseung’s shampoo—fresh and light. Your hand finds its way into his hair, fingers curling around the strands as Heeseung watches you with a soft smile, eyes scanning your features, taking you in. He lets his hand rest on your cheek, thumb stroking the skin there and his eyes flick up to meet yours. You feel like a teenager, a giddy smile gracing your lips, giggles tumbling out at the tickly feeling of lovestruck butterflies rumbling in your stomach. Heeseung beams, nuzzling into the touch of your hand as his eyes flutter shut. 

“If we’re going to work out this time—I want us to work out, but we need to talk,” you say after a beat. 

Heeseung’s brows raise like he can’t believe what you’re saying, his lips pushing into a pout. “We are going to work out, of course we’re going to work out.” His voice is still raspy from sleep, a deep hoarseness that’s too sexy for the cute way he’s chewing on his lip, doe-eyed and sweet as his eyes scan your face.

“I know, baby, I want that.” You nod, using your hand to push his hair out of his face. It’s so long now it’s starting to cover his eyes, the soft blond strands curling into his eyelashes. “But you have to say no to me, you know? I want you to have a life of your own, we both should.” 

“No.” 

“No?” You press your eyes shut, sighing. “What do you mean, no?” 

“I’m starting now.” 

“I’m serious, Hee, this is serious.” 

He pouts for a second before nodding. “I’m serious too. I can say no to you, I will say no to you.” 

You can’t help your scepticism, raising your brow at him as you inspect his face. There’s nothing about his expression that suggests he’s not being serious, nothing in those huge eyes seeming insincere. But you know Heeseung, you’ve been with Heeseung, and you know better than anyone, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do if it meant spending time with you, so you have to ask. “So from now on, if I text you when you’re in class or out with friends, and I tell you I want to see you, what are you going to do?” 

Heeseung sighs. “I’m going to text back and say that I’m.. busy.” His lips curl into a frown. “My heart will be super heavy though.” 

“But you’ll do it? You won’t see me until you’re free?” 

“I’ll do it, I won’t leave or anything.” 

“Do you promise?” 

“Yeah, baby, I promise.” When you smile at him, Heeseung leans in to seal his promise with a kiss, his lips meeting yours softly. 

You flinch when the door opens and Heeseung chuckles against your lips, but he doesn’t stop kissing you. Over his head, you see Sunghoon standing in the doorway, hair dripping water on the floor with a towel wrapped around his hips. 

Sunghoon sighs, loud and dramatic, his head falling back. “I specifically said no funny business,” he mutters. “Quit looking at me.” He comes into the room and lifts the duvet over your heads. 

Under the covers, Heeseung pulls away, poking his head out and laughing. “We’re just kissing.”

“Yeah, with your shirt off. Why is your shirt off?”

“She wanted to wear—”

Sunghoon cuts him off with a gasp, pulling the duvet back. “Wait, why are you kissing?”

“I can’t kiss my girlfriend?” 

The word makes your cheeks burn and you hide your face in Heeseung’s chest. His lips find the top of your head, kissing you as he wraps his arms around you. 

Sunghoon groans at the sight. “I haven’t missed this at all,” he says. “Who else knows?”

“Just you so far.”

You can hear Sunghoon grinning when he drops the duvet back over your heads and shuffles around the room, getting ready for skating. Heeseung calls you cute and holds you closer. “I’ve missed you so much, missed this,” he mumbles into your hair. “I love you.”

Dating Heeseung again is better than anything you could have imagined, even if it has only been two weeks. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more, and even the simple things he does make you smile so hard your face aches. Like when he picks up snacks for you after class or sends you pictures of sweet things he wrote about you in his old diary. Chaewon and Yunjin comment that you seem happier, that you’re glowing, and you can’t help the giggles that always escape and the flush that burns your cheeks when you mention your boyfriend, Heeseung.

Even under the pressure of taking on a group project by yourself, you find yourself fighting a grin in the library just thinking about him. Your class finished an hour ago and you’re doing research in the computer lab while waiting for him so you can go back home together. With a crease in your brow, you try to make sense of conflicting articles on the origin of the Great Pyramid of Giza, happy when your phone lights up with a text. 

hee: we should go on a date tonight !!! how does the fair sound? 

you: sounds good :D 

hee: ❤️

As if sensing that plans have been made without him, Sunghoon sends a message to the group chat asking who wants to go to the Spring Fair in the city centre tonight. 

you: hee and i are alr going :/

sunghoon: awesome i can meet u at hee’s in a few hours?

You really can’t find the heart to tell Sunghoon it’s a date so you decide not to say anything, only feeling worse when Jay replies. 

jay: sounds good :D 

hee: it’s a date dumbass, you’re not invited.

sunghoon: ok.. i can still go

jake: time?

With your date set and whatever else the boys are planning in the group chat, you manage to finish up your work in time for Heeseung to show up with a grin on his face as you pack up your notebook. Excitement stirs in your stomach when he locks his fingers with yours and you’ve never looked forward to the sticky heat of a night in spring as much as you are right now. 

“How was class?” you ask, squeezing his hand. 

Heeseung grins at you, swinging your hands between your bodies as you weave through tables to leave the library. “Turns out I focus really well when you’re not sitting with me.” 

“Oh, really?”

“Mm.” He nods, biting his lip. 

“I can sit with other people if it’ll help you focus.” 

“No!” he whines, loud enough to draw side eyes from the students around you before the tips of his ears burn red and he pulls you out of the library at lightspeed. 

When you reach his flat, Jay’s sitting on the couch grinning at something on his phone, so distracted he doesn’t even realise you’ve arrived until you sit down next to him. He’s got a lot to say about his mock trial and tells you everything, all while you’re cuddled up to Heeseung, with your head on his shoulder. 

You blink and the sun’s gone down, Jay isn’t around anymore and Heeseung’s arms are around your waist, holding you close. “Hey,” he says when you stir. “The boys left already, you just looked so cute sleeping that I didn’t want to wake you.” 

There’s a wet patch on his sweater where your mouth was that you try to wipe away. It doesn’t budge. And a burning flush attacks your cheeks and neck when Heeseung uses his thumb to wipe some of the drool by your mouth. “So cute.” He chuckles. “Should we get going?” 

You spend the whole journey to the city centre with your hand in Heeseung’s, trying to fight the butterflies in your stomach every time he smiles at you. It’s weird. To have been with him for so long, yet still feel giddy when he looks at you. This is new though, you suppose, to live away from home and see him whenever you want. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder and you can’t help the grin on your face at the thought of spending infinite nights like this, with him. 

The Spring Fair is alive with laughter and squeals of delight that you can hear from around the corner. Winking lights spill onto the pavement in rapid succession, somehow showing the whole spectrum at once. Heeseung is bursting with excitement, running down the street with you in tow, desperately trying to keep up with his stride and regulate your breathing. His eyes are huge when you reach the gates, scanning the area for the churros he’s been talking about for the entire walk and he gasps when he sees the stall, pulling you along with him. You have to weave through the crowd, dipping and dodging tired locals and excited tourists as you call out apologies to everyone Heeseung bumps into. The first night is always packed like this, so full it’s hard to believe the fair runs for six whole weeks. 

You share a heart-shaped churro and pose for the photos he wants to take, your heart swelling with affection as you pretend to be embarrassed when he buys matching character headbands for you both. Two years ago, Heeseung would’ve told you that headbands aren’t a good use of your money and bought them anyway, but today, he spent fifteen minutes trying on and taking photos with each character before finding the perfect pair. You can’t help but grin as he puts the headband on for you, a sense of excitement blooming inside you, so great it’s overwhelming.

Heeseung buys a blue raspberry slushy in an obnoxiously large reusable cup with two straws, and as he clutches his head with each brain freeze, chuckles pour out of you, only increasing when he pouts. 

At every opportunity, the two of you take selfies, and the grin on his face in each one warms your heart. He posts his favourite to his story, showing you all the compliments he’s getting in his DMs, all aimed at you. He seems so proud and excited to be with you, and butterflies go mad in your stomach as he reads some of them out to you, agreeing with and adding to the messages.

“You’re so beautiful, baby. I think I might delete the picture,” he says, frowning as the story replies pour in. 

The look on his face makes you laugh, struggling to talk but trying anyway. “But I love it.” 

Heeseung puts his phone away, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “I love you,” he says, using his free hand to tip your chin towards him. He grins when you say it back, tracing his thumb along your jaw. An odd stillness hits you, in the midst of vibrant chaos. Flashes of multi-coloured LEDs dance in orange and purple strobes over his face and your breath hitches in your throat. His eyes are pretty and wide, flicking from your eyes to your mouth a few times as a flame starts to burn in your stomach, low and scorching. 

“I love you,” you repeat, tip-toeing to close the gap. 

You kiss him, slow and sweet to savour the sugary taste on his lips as they move against yours. His tongue slips into your mouth, deepening the kiss and the taste of syrupy artificial fruit, leaving you craving more, craving him. A pop goes out in the air and you flinch in Heeseung’s arms. He chuckles against your lips before he pulls away, looking up. Trails of pink and gold paint the sky above, vibrant sparks spreading everywhere as a few more go off. If you weren’t so busy trying to catch your breath, you might appreciate their beauty, but you are and the next pop only startles you too. 

Heeseung looks down at you, his slightly swollen lips curving into a grin. “How are you so cute?” he coos. “And don’t most people want fireworks to go off when they kiss someone?” 

“It’s probably a sensation thing, Heeseung.” You know it’s a sensation thing. The first time he kissed you, it felt like you were floating on air, as if Sunghoon’s basement, cold and dark, was the most romantic place on Earth. You were sweaty and nervous, sitting cross-legged on the floor next to Heeseung while the boys were sleeping. He was the one to lean in and he kissed the tip of your nose by accident.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters. “Come here.” His voice is so deep and raspy that it spurs the flame on, burning higher, hotter, until it’s the only thing you can think about. His hand finds your jaw again, pulling you towards him to kiss you. Of course, you can’t resist; he’s Heeseung. 

The kiss is rife with neediness, whether from you or Heeseung you can’t tell, but you’re tugging at his hair and he’s clutching at your t-shirt, both of you struggling to get enough of the other. You nip at his bottom lip with your teeth and a heady sigh falls from his mouth into yours, brewing a storm in your mind, a thick fog obscuring everything but thoughts of him.

At the sound of a forced throat clearing, you break away from Heeseung, seeing an elderly lady with a steaming cup in her hand and a disgruntled look on her face. She extends an arm, gesturing behind you. When you follow the direction of her hand, you see a bench that you’re standing right in front of. Heeseung grabs your hand, mumbling an apology and tugging you as far away as possible. You struggle to stifle a laugh at the redness of his ears against his hair. 

A huge ride swings and spins into the air, catching your attention, though Heeseung seems to be more interested in the way Jake stands by the entrance with a scowl on his face. Jake waves you over when he sees you, grinning and hugging you both like it’s been years since he saw you. 

“Jay and Hoon are..” he trails off, using his arm to vaguely gesture towards the sky. 

“Man,” Heeseung whispers, pointing a reverent finger to the sky, “R.I.P.” 

Countless fireworks shoot up noisily, painting the dark sky, and Heeseung’s arms fall heavily around your shoulders, his body warm against your back. If not for the way Jake’s flinching next to you, covering his ears with his hands and ducking slightly at the bang of each one, it might feel like the two of you are alone in the moment. Alone despite the chatter, the laughter and squeals. Just you and Heeseung. 

And Jake. 

Heeseung is amazing at fair games, especially the ring toss. But a tired-looking man in a business suit wins the Hello Kitty plush you’d been eyeing for the snotty toddler wrapped around his leg, so you settle for the Kuromi plush instead. Heeseung says it’s cuter. You agree. 

His voice is soft when he asks, “Maybe we can go on the Ferris wheel later?” This is a far cry from the boy of sixteen who fainted at an amusement park just from seeing the drop on the biggest ride there. When you look up at him, his eyes are wide, boring into you, holding the stars in his pupils with a grin across his blue-stained lips, and how could you say no to that face? 

The platform by the Ferris wheel is sticky under your shoes, making you cringe with every step you take towards the front of the line. Heeseung’s grip on your hand is tighter than you think it’s ever been when he realises that you’re next to get on. This might be the most scared you’ve ever seen him, your poor boyfriend with his overpriced Kuromi headband shivering beside you. 

You frown at the sight, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “We don’t have to do this, Hee,” you say.

He tries to play it cool, shrugging with a nonchalance that doesn’t match the fear in his eyes. “I want to,” he assures, though his voice lacks conviction. 

“Are you sure?” The way he flinches when the ride operator opens the gate gives you his answer, but Heeseung is firm in his words as he pulls you towards the cart, despite wincing when the operator locks you in. “Baby,” you whisper, touching his cheek. “It’s not too late to get out.” 

In what appears to be a display of his bravery, he makes a show of rocking the carriage — only to be told off by the operator (who can’t be older than sixteen) — and cheering (with no conviction) about nothing in particular. You can’t help but laugh, the cart shaking slightly as you let your head fall back and you only laugh harder when Heeseung gasps because of it. 

He flinches again when the ride starts moving, an unsettling creak sending you forward just enough to allow the next victims — according to Heeseung — to get on the ride. When the last of them board, the wheel sets off in a slow spin and he spends the entire first rotation with his eyes clamped shut, only opening them after a while when he thinks the ride is over. 

The wheel creaks more than what you think is necessary and he only grows more and more outwardly uncomfortable, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth and gripping the safety bar above your laps until his knuckles turn white. 

“Would it make you feel better if I held your hand?” you coo, holding your left hand out to him. 

He rolls his eyes but takes your hand in his, holding it between his palms. Seemingly at ease, Heeseung shifts slightly in his seat to close the tiny gap between you, pressing his knee into yours. 

Even in the distance, the fair’s LED lights are beautiful, melting away into flashing bokeh before your eyes as the carriage inches higher and higher. You almost forget your company, leaning over the edge to get a better look, only for Heeseung to put his arm on your arm, mumbling, “Stop it.” 

His skin is warm despite the slight chill that comes with your increasing altitude, and you wish the carriage was smaller—cramped even, forcing the two of you together so tightly that you have no choice but to become one. You sit in the quiet of the night, excitement on the fairground growing quieter as the wheel spins, agonisingly slow, until eventually it’s just the two of you—you and Heeseung: the only people in the moment. 

The only people in the world.

“Why are we even on this thing?” you whisper, squeezing his hand. 

Heeseung shrugs his shoulders as gently as he can manage so as not to rock the carriage. His eyes are big when he looks at you, holding your gaze intently. “I wanted to be romantic.” 

Oh, Heeseung, you think, pressing your lips into a frown. He’s the sweetest person in the world and just the thought of it makes your stomach flutter. “You’re plenty romantic,” you say sincerely. 

He scoffs. “Yeah, because pretending you didn’t exist for a year is romantic.” 

“Yes! Very!” You chuckle, nodding your head. 

Again, he rolls his eyes at you but he uses his hand to hold your face, pulling you in. His kiss tastes like candy floss and the blue raspberry slushy you shared earlier, lips soft, relaxed against your own. Your hand reaches for his thigh, meeting instead with the squished plushy between your bodies and you can’t help but laugh. 

With your presentation out of the way, you and the guys are all sitting in Heeseung and Jay’s living room for the first night of Spring break. You’ve just about reached your limit, cuddling into Heeseung’s side with your eyes closed, sleepily listening to the conversation. It’s unintelligible, more laughter and wheezes than anything else. 

You shift your way into Heeseung’s lap after a while, moving around to get comfortable. It only takes two movements for him to grab you by the waist, holding you still. You try again, and his lips catch the shell of your ear. “Relax, baby. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you admit, moving around again until he sighs, relieved, you think. A wicked grin spreads over your lips when you feel him getting hard, grinding down on him a little and liking the warmth that spreads in your stomach from having him pressed against you. 

“Stop it,” he whispers, kissing the spot behind your ear. 

You heed the warning but can’t help the thoughts filling your mind, though you try to ignore them, laughing at something Sunghoon said about Jake’s ugly hat and shoes. Jake doesn’t find it as funny as the rest of you seem to.

Another hour passes by in the same way before the boys stumble into Jay’s room, calling out a slurred goodnight to you and Heeseung on the couch. You stand up first, holding out a hand for him to take and giggling when he presses a kiss to the back of it. 

In his room, he stares at a spot on the wall as you close the door, a contemplative look on his face. “Are you okay?” you ask, but he doesn’t look at you, only nodding his head with a crease along his brow. 

You kiss him, a featherlight touch of your lips against his. It’s soft for a while, sweet and sincere until he clutches your shirt like his life depends on it. Heeseung’s hands are all over you, stroking and squeezing every part of you he can reach. Overwhelming heat burns your skin under his touch. He inhales sharply through his nose when you reach for his waistband, tugging the drawstring free but he grabs your wrist, stopping you. He keeps kissing you, keeps trying and frowns when you pull away. 

“You don’t want this?” 

He tilts his head, looking down at you with concern flooding his wide eyes. “Do you think we’re going too fast?” His voice is quiet and he chews on his lip after speaking. 

“We’ve been together for six years.” 

“A month,” he corrects, looking at his feet.

As badly as you want him, you don’t want him doing anything he’s not ready for, so you wiggle your arm free from his grip, dropping it at your side. He lifts his head to look at you, brows knitted together, the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. “I don’t want to rush you.”

“It’s not that.” He shakes his head with wide eyes. “I just don’t want us doing anything you’ll regret.”

“I’m not going to regret this, I don’t regret anything we’ve done, Heeseung,” you say, holding his face in your hands. 

He closes his eyes, nodding. 

“Do you want to stop?” 

“Never,” he whispers and the word has you falling to your knees. 

It’s hard to see his exact expression in only the dim glow of the streetlights outside, but you can clearly see the way he’s watching you. The way his eyes are lidded as he chews on his bottom lip, watching you reach for the buckle on his belt. Heeseung threads his fingers through your hair, groaning, and for a few seconds, you’re hypnotised. Too wrapped up in tipsiness and lust to move your fingers, completely focused on the way his breath starts to pick up before you’ve even done anything. You’re starting to think it might be enough for him just to see you like this, on your knees for him, wide-eyed and eager. 

Whether on purpose or not, Heeseung tugs on your hair gently, pulling you from your trance. His blunt fingernails scratch at the back of your head as you undo his belt, tugging his jeans down. He steps out of them as soon as he can, smiling when you toss them behind you. Too worked up to wait, you push your face against him. You take a minute to hold his covered cock between your lips, shuddering at the feeling of the damp spot at the top of it. Heeseung grunts, bucking his hips. He looks like sin when you lock eyes with him, licking a strip to the top of his waistband, sucking and nipping at the skin and coarse hair there. 

“Quit teasing,” he says, still keeping control of his voice. 

You blink up at him sweetly, shaking your head. “I’m not,” you mumble, pulling his underwear down. 

Heeseung’s dick smacks his stomach with a wet sound that makes you clench around nothing, and you sit back on your heels to admire him. Maybe it’s from time, or your unbearable desire, but he looks bigger, thicker, and much prettier than you remember. When you finally drag your eyes from his dick, you notice a mark on his hip, right above where his thigh starts. It’s a smudge of something dark, inky almost. You furrow your brows, licking the pad of your thumb to try and get rid of it. He practically flinches when you touch it, moving away from you. The increased distance between you and the low lighting only further obscures it—when you rub at the mark it doesn’t budge. 

“What is this?” 

“It’s nothing,” he says, sitting down on the bed and covering it with his hand. 

If it was anyone other than Heeseung, you might have thought it was a tattoo, but you can’t make sense of the thought so it slips your mind as soon as it occurs. You reach for the lamp on his bedside table, flicking it on, losing your breath at the sight of his skin glowing golden in the light, and the tip of his cock is a tempting, glossy red. You can’t help but take him in your hand, stroking him slowly. 

“Tell me, baby.” 

“It’s a bruise,” he manages through a gasp, licking his lips.

Your thumb swipes over his slit and he crumbles. “Heeseung.” 

“Butterfly, it’s a butterfly.” 

A fuzzy warmth starts to bloom in your chest, overwhelming you. “Lay down,” you say, voice as soft as it’s ever been. 

Heeseung obliges, linking his fingers with yours when you move his hand from his thigh. Under the light, you can see it clearly, dark strokes of ink forming a pretty butterfly, tiny, and heart-achingly familiar. 

“Is it..” You trail off, moving your lips around words that you can’t get out as tears sting your eyes. “Did I draw this?” Leaning over him, you get as close as you can, using your finger to trace the shape. 

Sitting up on his elbows, he looks down at you with a worried look on his face as he nods. “Do you hate it?” 

“I love it.. it’s perfect.” You let go of his hand, using the back of your fingers to wipe at your eyes. 

Heeseung sits up, letting his hand cup your cheek and looking at you. He uses his thumb to wipe some of the tears you missed before leaning down and kissing you. His lips move slowly with yours, he’s being gentle, so gentle that you hear your heart thudding in your ears. 

“Come sit,” he mumbles against your mouth, helping you up and guiding you into his lap, a whine falling out of him when you sit on his cock and you mumble an apology that you don’t mean.

“When did.. Why did you..”

His shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. “My first birthday I spent without you. I just wanted to have something for you.”

You’ve seen it and you’ve heard it from him, but you still can’t make sense of it. “But you’re.. you’re Heeseung. You’d never get a tattoo, you told me that.” 

“I’ll probably never get another tattoo, it hurt like hell,” he says, frowning. 

“You’re such a sweetheart.” You cradle his face in your hands, gazing into his eyes, your sweet Heeseung. So different yet so incredibly similar. “You’re, like, obsessed with me.”

There’s a loud adoration in his eyes that makes your stomach turn. “How could I not be?” His smile is wide even though his lips are smushed a little by the way you’re holding his face. 

Heeseung tilts his chin towards you so you kiss him, the two of you passing moans and whines between your mouths as you grind on him, his hands gripping your waist under your shirt. He shudders under you, rutting his hips against yours with a groan. He’s harder than ever underneath you, his cock hot between your thighs, pressed up against your core in the most maddening way. It can’t be comfortable for him, the friction from your underwear but he seems like he’s enjoying it just as much as you, maybe more, you think, when he starts throbbing. 

Conscious of the boys across the hall, you try your best to be quiet, though Heeseung doesn’t share your concern, his lips parting too wide to keep kissing you and his head falling back as he lets a whine out into the air. His nails dig into your skin, hips speeding up more than you can keep up with as he trembles, clearly so close to the edge that you moan at the sight of him all fucked out in front of you. You chew on your lip, watching his whole face scrunch up before falling to your shoulder, his cum leaking out all over your panties and the tops of your thighs. A grin covers your lips while your pussy aches from the heat of his release and the feeling of his staggered breath hitting your skin. When he finally sits up, sweat slicks the column of his neck and chest, a nervous look in his eyes that he can’t quite bring to meet yours. 

“This is j—” Heeseung cuts you off by covering your mouth with his palm. 

“I remember. You don’t have to say it, baby, I remember.” 

“You were so cute that day,” you say when he moves his hand. Butterflies fill your stomach when you think about it, the first time you ever did anything with each other, with anyone. He was fifteen, with cute round glasses perched on the end of his nose and teeth too big for his mouth, finishing in his jeans with you in his lap.

“You don’t think I’m cute anymore?” he asks, frowning. 

“You’re always cute.”

Heeseung grins at your words, so wide and sweet your heart races. He kisses you gently and slips his hand into your underwear, his finger trailing the length of your pussy slowly, groaning into your mouth at how wet you are. You whine into the kiss when he strokes your clit and gasp when he pushes a finger into you easily. Gradually, he adds more fingers, fucking you open on his knuckles and watching as you fall apart.

His lips move from yours, falling to your neck so he can kiss and suck the sensitive skin there. “You feel so good, baby. My sweet girl,” he mumbles, breath searing your skin. The words make you clench, your stomach fluttering relentlessly as he uses his thumb to press on your clit, the pressure enough to make you spiral. It’s all too much too fast and before long, you’re squirming and mewling in Heeseung’s arms, finishing all over his fingers. 

Immediately, an excruciating flush burns every inch of your body as you hide your face in his neck to catch your breath. His arms wrap around you and he whispers sweet nothings into your hair while stroking your back.

Ever since that night in his room, all your senses feel heightened when Heeseung is around. 

And it doesn’t help that you spend every waking moment with him. Whether in his flat or yours, you’re joined at the hip and it’s near impossible not to pounce on him. In your stomach blooms a heat you haven’t felt in years. An all-consuming flame that makes you hold your breath when he cuddles you; makes you look away when he strips before showering.

He’s taken a liking to shirtlessness, only seeming to remember that the garments exist when he has to leave the house—which isn’t often now that classes have ended. This sudden cotton allergy plagues you, burning the image of his ever-increasing muscle definition and the tattoo on his hip into your memory, so deeply they’re the only things you see when you close your eyes at night. 

Even when Heeseung’s being romantic, cooking dinner for the two of you and almost burning his finger with a match while lighting a candle, you’re thinking about him fucking you. When he goes out with the boys and stumbles into your flat, drunk, with a crushed bouquet in his hands, you’re thinking about what might have happened if you’d gone out too. If he’d finger you in the back of a taxi or take you against the door when you got back. 

Weeks go by like this until you finally reach your limit. 

There’s nothing overtly sexual about the way Heeseung’s sitting. About the way his lashes kiss his cheeks when he blinks, or the way his hair sits in a sleepy mess on his forehead. But it’s Heeseung. So these things existing on him drive you crazy. 

Given the lack of privacy in your family homes — by way of an open-door rule when visiting each other — you and Heeseung didn’t have many opportunities to have sex that didn’t involve being tangled around one another in the backseat of his car. And even those occasions were few and far between. 

With the only three brain cells that seem to function around your shirtless boyfriend and your head on the doorjamb, you begin to scheme. It doesn’t have to be elaborate—just a way to get Heeseung to fuck you without you having to bring it up. 

“What’s up, baby?” he asks, finally looking over at you. His voice pulls you out of your thoughts, with a raspiness to it that makes your thoughts run wild. From head to toe, his eyes drag over your body, his tongue coming out to run over his lips. 

Clearly, a very delicate, well-timed conversation is in order and the gears in your mind scrape against each other, turning egregiously as you try to figure out how to start the conversation. “I want you to fuck me,” you blurt out. Not the most delicate approach, but the way Heeseung’s eyes widen suggests you might be on the right track. “I didn’t mean to say that,” you admit sheepishly. 

He chuckles deeply in a way you haven’t heard in years. “So you don’t want me to fuck you?” There’s a challenge in his question, evident from his raised brow, the setting aside of his phone, and the way he sits up straight. The movement forces the duvet to slip a little, falling from above his belly button to his hips in one fell — effortlessly sexy — swoop. 

In spite of this, you can’t help but roll your eyes at him. How could you be standing there, in nothing but his t-shirt, asking him to fuck you and he’s caught up on semantics? “That’s not what I’m saying.” 

“What are you saying?” When you don’t say anything, Heeseung lifts the duvet from his body entirely, grinning when your gaze locks on his hips. His pyjama pants are sitting low enough to show off the waistband of his underwear, and they don’t do anything to hide the way his hard cock pushes against them.

Heeseung towers over you, overwhelming you and the space of the doorframe as his mouth quirks up at one corner. “You want it, baby?” he asks, his voice soft as he cups your face in his hand, using his thumb to trace your lips. 

His face dips down to yours and you can’t resist reaching up to kiss him, whining at the contact as you move your lips in sync with his. The sounds he’s making are dizzying, deep groans you feel in your chest. His hand grips your waist, pulling you as close as possible so you can feel him, hard and thick, pressing against you. 

You whimper when he pulls away, chasing his kiss, but Heeseung only chuckles. “Say the word and I’m yours,” he whispers, looking down at you with those big eyes. 

“I’m not going to beg.” 

He smiles sweetly, a soft curve of his lips summoning butterflies. “Suit yourself,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to the base of your neck and leaving the room. 

Flustered, you follow him, flinging your arms around his waist and pressing your face into his back. “Okay, I’m going to beg.”

“I’m listening.” 

“I need you,” you mumble into his skin. 

“You have me.” 

Even though his words and the way his lips audibly split into a grin make your heart race, you can’t help your frustration. “Heeseung,” you say, pleading with him. 

He frees himself from your grip, turning around. When you look up at him, he’s watching you closely through lidded eyes, his lips parted in a soft pout that makes your heart melt. His arms wrapped around your shoulders, holding you close enough to feel him pressing against you. “I’m all yours, baby. What’s up?”

“Why are you torturing me?”

This makes him smile as he shakes his head. “I’m not.” 

“Please.”

He brings a hand up to your face, his thumb stroking your cheek and you can’t help but nuzzle into his palm. “Please what?” 

“You know what I need and I can’t go any longer without it,” you mumble into his hand. Heeseung only raises a brow and you sigh. Somehow, your want for him is greater than your embarrassment so you sigh, looking him in the eye. “If you want to, please, please, fuck me, Heeseung. Any way you want, baby, just promise me you’ll do it. I need it, need you.” 

A shit-eating grin takes over his face as he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. “Was that so hard?” he asks, frowning when you don’t reply. “Don’t get all moody, baby, talk to me.” 

Heeseung picks you up, holding you close as you wrap your legs around his waist. Both of his hands are spread over your ass and you’re too embarrassed to say anything, chewing your lip and staring at the little mole on his forehead. 

“Need me to fuck you ‘til you can talk again?” There’s a roughness to his voice that makes your cheeks flush, but you can’t help but laugh, head falling back in a fit of cackles. 

“What are you talking about?” 

His pretty lips come together in a pout before he speaks. “I don’t know.” He shrugs, the tips of his ears burning red as he carries you to his room, using his foot to close the door behind him. “I’m rusty.”

You shake your head before kissing his forehead. “You’re perfect.”

Heeseung sets you down on the bed gently, crawling over you. “I like seeing you in my shirts,” he says, clutching the fabric in his fists, tugging a little. 

“Someone has to wear them.”

A breathy laugh falls from his lips. “What?” He tilts his head, leaning away from you to sit back on his heels. “You don’t like seeing me like this?” 

It’s hard to find a balance between missing his warmth and looking at his body. Staring at the definition that marks his chest and stomach and the way his muscles stick out over his biceps, you can feel yourself leaking at the sight of him. Your eyes catch on his waistband, on the strip of hair that’s cut off by the start of the fabric before falling to the bulge in his pants. 

“You’re looking at me like I’m your next meal,” he mumbles, leaning back over you with a deep flush on his cheeks and neck.

“I think I want you to be.” 

“You think?”

You nod eagerly, anticipation swirling in your stomach. 

“Anything I can do to make you certain?” Heeseung’s voice is thick with something you think could be enough to make you finish. 

“Whatever you want,” you say, desperate. 

He chews on his lip, considering you for a while before kissing your cheek. Once more, he sits up, tugging at your waist. “First, I want this shirt out of my way,” he says with a smile. 

Immediately, you lean off the bed to let him take it off, tossing it behind him. “Anything else?” 

Heeseung’s too busy staring to speak, taking you in hungrily with a jarring combination of lust and adoration behind his eyes. You thought you’d feel shy about him seeing you after so long, but you’ve never felt more comfortable in your life as he reaches down to lock his fingers with yours. He brings your hand up to his mouth, kissing the back of it. “You’re so pretty,” he says against your skin. 

There’s no stopping the flutter in your stomach or the smile that spreads over your lips. You tell him you love him and he says it back as he leans back down to kiss you slowly, his tongue licking into your mouth at an agonising pace, a line of saliva connecting you to him when he pulls away. 

“I want to get my head between your legs,” he mumbles, letting his hand dip between your spread thighs. “So wet already?” he asks, dragging your slick up to your clit, rubbing it with a featherlight touch that leaves a whine slipping from your lips. “Will you let me?” 

You nod. 

Heeseung smiles and you match it before he dips his head into the crook of your neck, kissing the skin there for a minute. His breath and wet mouth are hot, burning a trail down to your collarbone and chest, where he gets distracted, pulling one of your nipples between his lips.

Your stomach twists at the sight of him, his pretty, pouty lips sucking and biting at your sensitive skin, the way he’s moaning against you, using his thick fingers to tug and pinch your other breast. It takes him a while to move on but you don’t complain, even when he presses tickly kisses to your stomach. 

When he reaches your legs, he gets off the bed, kneels on the floor and hooks his arms around your thighs to pull you towards him. You feel exposed when he uses his thumbs to spread you, staring at your pussy with wide eyes, his lips parted a little until his head falls back with a groan. 

“Missed this pussy. Been thinking about it so much, all the time. So beautiful, baby.” He manages to drag his gaze from between your legs to lock eyes with you. “You’re so beautiful, baby.” His lips touch your thighs, kissing the soft skin there, sucking marks into it and biting softly. The sting is subtle but it makes you clench, a movement that isn’t lost on him. “You’re so needy, huh? You want me that bad?” he asks, looking up with a tilted head. 

You mumble the word ‘no’ and shake your head. “Need you.” The words come out of their own accord, nothing more than a desperate whine that makes Heeseung press his eyes shut. You watch as he shifts on the floor, leaning in and giving you the attention you deserve. 

Heeseung’s nose grazes your slit and you gasp at the sudden contact, flinging your head back into the pillows when he licks a strip from there to your clit, giving it a quick peck. 

You card your fingers through his hair, gripping at the strands so hard it must hurt, but he doesn’t seem to mind, going slow despite the way you’re trying to rut against his face. He kisses the spot above your clit, his tongue poking out to lick at the skin there, only hitting the bud a few times and the anticipation is enough to make you spiral. 

Time stands still, all concept of it demolished when, finally, he wraps his lips around your swollen clit, running his tongue over it with a pressure that leaves you shaking against the sheets. Moans pour out of you like water from a faucet with nothing but pleasure and Heeseung’s sweet mouth crossing your mind. 

It doesn’t seem like he’s ever going to stop, only coming up for air for a brief moment before sticking a finger into you and attaching his mouth to your clit, burying himself in your wetness. The stretch is minimal, barely registering in the waves of pleasure crashing over you, until he adds a second finger, thick and rigid as he works you open for him. By the time his third finger enters, you have to pull him away by his hair, struggling to find the words to say and settling on a whiny cry of his name.

“Hmm?” He looks up at you, face covered in slick that shines on his chin and nose, shoulders rising and falling heavily, but his fingers don’t let up, curling towards your belly button torturously slow.

“Want to cum with you inside.”

Heeseung’s eyes darken and he licks his lips. “Yeah?” 

“Uh-huh, and I don’t want you using a condom either, want you to fill me up.”

“Are you sure?” 

You nod. “I’m still on the pill and you’re the only person I’ve ever been with.”

Heeseung wastes no time standing up from the floor, watching hungrily as you sigh at the emptiness, moving up on the bed. He uses his fist to pump his cock slowly, sighing when he drags his thumb over his tip. A beat passes before he grins, boyish and handsome while crawling over you again. His face softens and his eyes burn into yours as he cups your cheek in his palm. “You sure about this?” 

“I’m sure, Heeseung, you’re all I want,” you whisper, pecking his lips. 

“Me too.” 

He uses his free hand to reach for his cock, rubbing his tip over your clit and chewing on his lip. He lets his cock split your folds, grinding his length against you, rubbing your cunt with a wet sound that fills the room. Heeseung straightens up and you moan when he spits into his palm, stroking himself before pressing the head of his cock to your entrance. You hold your breath, bracing for the stretch and crying out when he pushes in. His head falls forward with a sigh, his hair tickling your forehead.

“I missed you,” he groans when he bottoms out, his thumb running over your lips. A moan slips out of him when you open your mouth, running your thumb over the pad of his finger and sucking on it. “Missed these pretty lips, this pussy. Don’t know how I got on without it.” His words and the feeling of him inside after so long only make you dizzy, knowing that he wanted you like you wanted him. He watches you with parted lips, rocking his hips tenderly against yours. 

“Faster, Hee,” you whisper. “Harder.” 

Heeseung’s brows knit together and he slows to a pace that lets you feel single vein and inch of him as he bottoms out before pulling almost all the way out. “Can you take it?” he asks, a jarring tone to his voice that you think is a challenge. 

You nod desperately. “Please.” 

The word flips a switch for him and he speeds up, thrusting so hard, so deep that your back arches off the bed as his tip nudges your g-spot each time. Just when it all starts to feel too much, Heeseung lifts one of your legs, hitting deeper than he has before and tangling up a knot in your stomach. 

“You’re so good, baby, so good for me.” His eyes are dark and lidded, full of all the love in the world as he gazes into yours, a tangible love that overwhelms you, eating you alive along with his praise.

Sweltering heat stretches through every part of your body at the drag of him inside, the push and pull of his cock along your stuttering walls. It’s enough to make you shiver and a cry of his name rips out of you when he starts rubbing your clit again, pushing the bud in slow circles that make you screw your eyes shut. 

“That’s it. Cum for me, baby, make a mess,” he whispers and that’s as much as you can take. 

Stars flash behind your closed eyes as every single part of your body sets alight, dazed by Heeseung’s whines and the feeling of being full, finally being full, until both ends of the knot tug and tug, leaving you with nothing but a hoarse moan that dies in your throat as your orgasm hits you like a truck. 

A lewd squelch accompanies each of his thrusts as they get sloppier and sloppier, losing their rhythm and intensity. It seems like he’s right there with you though when he collapses on top of you, his head falling into the crook of your neck and his moans slipping out like music to your ears.

It’s hard not to fall apart under him, but you try your best, dragging your nails over the toned muscles of his back while telling him you love him over and over until he finishes. Both of you are trembling, fighting for breath and whining as Heeseung sloppily fucks you full of his cum. The sound is downright pornographic, loud and wet as your cum mixes with his for the first time in so long. An inexplicable intimacy so thick it hangs in the air, perching on your shoulders as he looks into your eyes. 

Heeseung slows down after a while, stopping completely but not pulling out yet, keeping you full and aching around him. When he catches his breath, he gives you a dreamy smile, thanking you before pressing soft kisses to every part of your face he can reach. 

You whine when he pulls out, missing him as soon as he’s gone. Despite your sensitivity, you want to beg him to come back, to slip back into you and stay forever, though Heeseung has other plans. He sits between your legs, dragging a lazy finger up your slit and watching with a smile as cum leaks out. You squirm against the sheets, pushing your head into the pillow when he uses two fingers to push it back in.

“Wish I could keep you full like this forever,” he mumbles absently, curling his fingers. 

All you can do is sigh happily. Long minutes go by until he takes his fingers out of you, reaching behind him for his shirt to wipe you up before leaning down to your face, mumbling against your lips to come and shower with him.

You’ve never showered with Heeseung before and a voice in your head tells you to press your cheek against the tile and let him have you again, but you’re way too sleepy for that. The warmth of the water and his big hands roaming your body do nothing to help, only forcing your eyes to fall shut as you lean back against Heeseung’s chest, willing yourself to stay awake. 

Once you’re all showered and clean, you only feel sleepier, standing on the plush bath mat in front of the steamed-up mirror. Droplets of water trickle down your skin and you can’t help but revel in the warmth of the room around you. Wrapped snugly in a soft, fluffy towel, you find yourself too tired to follow Heeseung out, slathering some of the expensive moisturiser Jay keeps in the bathroom over your skin. You peer into the mirror, though you don’t see much, and for a moment, it’s just you and the steady trickle of water from the showerhead. The bathroom smells like Heeseung’s minty shower gel and you miss him already, but you take your time anyway, savouring the moment and everything that came before it. 

You find him in his room when you’re done, tucking the last corner of a fitted sheet around his mattress. 

“You want to nap, baby?” he asks when he sees you, holding out a clean shirt for you to wear. 

“Mm,” you hum, nodding your head and dropping the towel so he can put the shirt over your head. 

“Let me just fix the pillowcases, yeah?” 

You nod, slumping into his desk chair and watching the muscles in his back shift and flex as he moves around the room, dumping the dirty bedding into his laundry basket and slipping the clean linen over his pillows. He pulls the duvet back and pats the mattress, grinning when you shake your head and make grabby hands in his direction, 

Heeseung stretches his arms above his head and comes over to you but you stop him before he can pick you up. 

“I’m going grocery shopping with Yunjin later and I need a pound for the trolley, do you have any?” you ask through a yawn. 

He scratches his chin, thinking about it. “If I do, they’re in my wallet,” he says, reaching for it on the desk and handing it to you before taking a seat on the end of his bed. 

When you pull on the zipper to open the coin slot, you find a shiny pound coin and a folded piece of lined paper. You leave the coin where it is and hold the paper between two fingers for him to see. “What’s this?” 

Immediately, he hides his face with his hands but you can still see the flush on his ears. You’re not sure what reaction you were expecting, but despite your curiosity, you won’t look at it if he doesn’t want you to. “Sorry, baby,” you say, putting it back. “Forget I asked.” 

Heeseung sighs, looking up at you through the gaps in his fingers. “You can look if you want, it’s nothing bad, just mildly humiliating.” 

Nervous anticipation settles over your body and you can’t help but laugh a little, feeling your breath catch in your throat when you unfold the crumpled and creased paper. It’s blank. You arch a curious brow at Heeseung, who, though still slightly embarrassed, gestures for you to turn it over. 

What meets your eyes on the other side leaves you stunned. There, inked in blue with delicate care yet bearing the natural imperfections of a hand-drawn butterfly, was a familiar image. It’s the very same butterfly you drew in your notebook on a spring date with him four years ago. Your fingers tremble as you trace the lines, your heart racing as you remember how he’d torn it from the page, eyes full of appreciation for the simple drawing. 

Tears well up in your eyes when it dawns on you. It’s the very same butterfly he has tattooed on his hip, a permanent reminder of your love that endured separation and time. 

Your voice is weak as you look up at him, quivering with emotion. “You kept it after all these years,” you whisper.

Heeseung smiles, his eyes full of love. “I never let go of what matters to me.” 

© zreamy (2023), all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, or plagiarise my work. do let my know your thoughts !

permanent taglist: @asahicore

[marsdql]

Unexpected — ༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔*:･

Extended verison of caught off guard !! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

Pairing: Brother’s best friend!Heeseung x fem!reader

Synopsis: You're shocked to discover that your longtime crush Heeseung is now friends with your brother, leading to a fanfiction-like (literally) story.

Genre/warnings: fluff, little suggestive?, brother's bestfriend, reader is 3 years younger, mention of stalking, alloooottt of teasing, no dividers in between the paragraphs… | wc: 4,7k I think.

𝙈𝙖𝙧’𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: im so extremely sorry for the ungodly word count I wrote each part separately and forgot to take in consideration the amount of writing I was doing.. The poll said to not make this into parts so I just put it all in one post though!!!!!!! + Masterlist coming soon, request me your suggestions (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ okay enjoy now

Your brother had made new friends during the first semester because of a lot of senior group projects, which made the house busy. Your brother and his friends wanted more quiet places to work on things, like each other's houses. It's strange that it was always at your house and not his friends' or the library, but whatever.

You didn’t mind much, until a particular someone came over, Heeseung, the 6’0 slim brunette senior you’ve been crushing on since you were in middle school, now a freshman. You followed him around everywhere with your friends, making it so obvious that you guys were following HIM. You would send him holiday letters provided by the school, stall his social media, follow his friends and him at one point until he removed you over a silly kpop story... everything… and now, he’s with your brother?! Since when!

Bad thoughts filled your mind as you remembered all the embarrassing moments he caught you staring at him, thinking that he’d tell your brother all of it if he sees you and finds out that you’re the sister of the guy he’s getting closer to each day. But you were hungry, so hungry, you needed to eat, you always do before taking a nap, it’s like a routine, he can’t just ruin your routine. You start making plans on how to get to the kitchen without Heeseung and your brother spotting you. After a few minutes of thinking, you finally build up the courage to get downstairs and pray for the best.

You tip-toe your way down the stairs, attempting to make as little noise as possible, and to your surprise, the two boys are on the island table right across the fridge, you’re doomed, he’s going to see you, you can’t just walk back upstairs!

“Y/n? What are you doing, you look so stupid right now.” Your brother blurts out which makes you jolt up and fix your posture. Shoot. You forgot that they can see you from their perspective more than you can see them. But you act fast, “huh? Oh! Hi um.. I was just counting how many steps we have to the stairs.. for a math project!” What the heck was that response? Whatever, it’ll do. As you finish your sentence, you give yourself an excuse to get closer so that it doesn’t get too awkward, and there he is, the Heeseung of your dreams, locking eyes with you with his stale and cold expression planted on his face, not one tiny bit of shock in his face when seeing you.

“Hey by the way, don’t take a nap, mom wants you to help her with groceries, she’s coming in a minute, wait in the living room or something just don’t go back upstairs” your brother says before putting all his focus back to the project he’s doing with sousou. At this point, you mutter out a small “okay” and forget the snack you came downstairs for, heading to the couch to go on your phone and act like nothing happened(secretly glancing at Heeseung from time to time.)

30 minutes later, your mother comes back while your brother and mister take a bathroom break. You head to the garage, opening the door for your mother to bring the groceries in for you to then place them on the counter. You’re holding big heavy bags, making you groan trying to pick them all up, then all of a sudden, as you're trying to get up, you feel the weight getting lighter and lighter, thinking you're stronger than you thought, but to your surprise… It's the dream man helping you. “Are you that lazy? Couldn’t you have just picked them one at a time? Hm?” He says as he coughs out a small chuckle, picking up the bags with ease. You can’t do anything but stare at him and place them on the table, your lips forming an O but unable to make a sound or blurt any words out. Before you get yourself to say anything, he cuts you off with a “You’re not slick, we both know exactly why you’re so shy” what…????? “I’m not shy at all?! I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You scream before the nervousness gets to you. You never thought your first conversation with Heeseung was going to be like this. “Oh yeah? You think I don’t know what you do? All the letters you sent me the past 2 years? Common now, I’m not stupid hhh…” suddenly, he lets go of the bags and gets closer to you, your brother still in the washroom and your mother still outside. His cold expression is still there but with a slight smirk. Your cheeks and nose get red quickly, making him only grin harder as he sees the effect he has on you. “You wouldn’t want your brother to see all the cheesy things you’ve done, let alone your mother, hmph? Of course you wouldn’t want that, you’re such a nice girl they would never think you’d do that, you’re just a sweet girl who goes to school and hangs out with her friends, definitely doesn’t beg them to follow me around, right?” He’s so close to you, his words only making you blush harder. His eyes shift to the door as he watches your mother call for him “Oh hello Heeseung! Would you be a sweetheart and help me with these bags? Y/n, please put the milk away! I forgot something at that store, I need to go back and pick it up.” Of course, the young man quickly obeyed your mother and helped her out, leaving you red and shoving your face in the fridge to cool down, you’re cooked, you have no idea what's taking your brother so long, but it feels like an eternity… Since when did LEE HEESEUNG have the courage to say that? What’s he gonna say next???? You keep replaying the words he said a few seconds ago, making you go crazy all over again.

Hours later, 22:00, your brother and his friend passed out on the counter of the kitchen as you were laying in bed, bored and unable to think of anything except the incident that happened earlier. Your best friend would always write fanfiction of you and hee as a joke, not thinking anything of it because you knew you were not delusional enough to think a guy 3 years older than you would actually notice you or look your way.

Abruptly, you feel the urge to go to the bathroom, wanting to wash the guilt written all over you face from the amount of overthinking. As you get to the entrance, you notice a black statue from across the hallway, making your heart drop as it walks closer to you. Suddenly, your screams wake up the entire neighborhood, "I'm so sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I don't know what I did but I'm sorry I'll never wish death upon anyone else who likes Mingyu and joshua! I promise god I'll never ever hope that all S.coups fangirls except me will fall in a hole!" you close your eyes shut as you squeal and think its the end of your days.

Until that skinwalker finally decides to open his mouth and.. "BOO!" Heeseung screams as he shakes your shoulders, not initially intending on scaring you until he realized that you couldn't see his figure. Why did it have to be him again?! "Hey, I'm joking, calm down, you're okay. It's just me. What was all that blabbering about?" he says, again, with his famous chuckle you've probably heard more than actual words from his mouth. "You can't just do that! It's dark, nighttime and it's just annoying!" you wail, feeling surprised that you managed to actually say something to his face. "Huh? feisty, calm down scaredycat, do you usually see things?" You swallow, knowing that you not only see things, but hear things at night as well.

There's an awkward silence between you two, both standing in the dark with nothing but the light of the bathroom reflecting on eachothers skin. "So? You ain't gonna speak ‘bout nothing YOU'VE been doing? You just gonna stay quiet like that?" You gulp hard, since when was he this bold and confident? What did he expect you to say, then there you are, too scared and shy to talk again, obvious shyness on your face, making heeseung aware of it, once again. He would always secretly tease you, manspread in front of you while looking at you, trying not to stare at him back and attempting to put all your focus on your friends. He would lean against the wall and look at you up and down as you walked past him, with your face buried in your friend's back, trying not to go crazy over his state. He knew the effect he had on you, since the start, it boosted his ego the most. "You shy, doll?" He whispers as he gets closer, not scared of anyone catching you both being so close, almost heads touching.

“W-what if someone catches us like this?, you can't be so close..” You mutter under your breath, forcing the words out of your mouth knowing that you don't really want him to move. “Hm? You gonna stop me? I'll stop if you tell me to, you just gotta use your words, pretty” he whispers once again, looking down on you as he pushes both your bodies onto the wall near the door of the bathroom with his chest. Your lips are shut, unable to get yourself to push him away or say a word.

He feels you slowly giving in, he knows you would, you might know information about you but he knows all your body language, he knows how nervous you get when you're alone with him and he's ready to take advantage of you all. GO HIT THAT GUM JILGEONG!!(sorry i got bored) You feel 1000 knots in your stomach from his breath hitting you cold neck, seconds later, “Take me to your room.”

Saying that his words shocked you was a huge understatement, you were feeling so many emotions that you just went numb. Sight went foggy and you couldn't think anymore, the last thing you remembered was showing him the way to your bedroom. Heading to your bed with wobbly legs due to the fear you were feeling, you had zero idea on what was going to happen. How is this the first day you talk to Heeseung and it's already this crazy? You always imagined scenarios and insane stuff, but now it feels like you just manifested them all because this craziest one is coming to life.

“Cute room. Surprised you don't have any photos of me.” The tall man says as he throws himself on the bed. At this point, you would've been able to speak to him like a normal person, but all his flirtatious words made u only use your movements, no verbal communication in sight. He stares at your BT21 plushies with disgust, pushing them off the bed with his foot, is he really still annoyed about that instagram post? Or is he still jealous? “Hate those people” he huffs as he turns to his side, seeming amused with your sweet candy-like scent on your bed. “Why are you scared of your own bed?” He comments as he watches you stare at him from your desk, realizing that you arent on your bed because HE'S ON IT. “I-im not scared, maybe you're just too big for my bed and I can't fit.. Fatty..” ‘What'd you just call me?’ “Huh? What! I didn't say a-anything?” ‘No no i deeefinitely heard something, did you just call me fat?’ “Okay yes! I did, am I lying though? You're not slick, I know the locker you share with Jay is greasy as hell!” you squeal as you make a disgusted face. ‘Yeah? You saw me get out of class to get a cookie too? Or were you too busy trying to hide from me to be able to see what was in my hand?’ Shoot, You cant reply to him with anything, both answers are wrong.. ‘Yeah that's what i thought.’

“W-what are you doing in my room, why do you wanna be here?” You ask him, innocently. ‘Because I don't break my back sleeping on the couch and I have enough manners to not barge into your brother's room when he's asleep.’ “It's better if you sleep in my brother's room than anyone finding out you slept in mine…” 'I'll leave before anyone wakes up. Comon, I wont do anything.’ It's not like he’d do anything anyway, he's as nonchalant as ever and obviously wouldn't try anything on you, he knows you wouldn't actually give into THAT, plus, he's glad youre not like that, atleast at your age.

As Heeseung takes over your bed, you are still in shock. He is sprawled out like he owns the place, watching you from the other side of the room with a small smile on his face. When someone dares to call you out on your personal space, you feel both irritated and agitated.

He pats the empty spot on the bed beside him with the same smirk and asks, “Are you really just going to stare at me from over there?”

You pause, but you cannot maintain any resistance and end up stumbling over. You take care to maintain some distance between you while sitting on the edge, but he does not let you off that easily.

Hee laughs and creeps closer, making you all too aware of the distance vanishing between you two. “Calm down, I don’t bite.” When you look up, you see him observing you with that recognizable sparkle in his eye that indicates he is relishing every moment of it.

You make an effort to minimize it by rolling your eyes, but your cheeks’ redness most likely shows that you are not paying much attention. “Heeseung, what are you even doing here? Wouldn’t you be better off downstairs or not settling into my room?”

With a low chuckle, he leans back comfortably without shifting. With a playful tone, he raises his eyebrows and asks, “What, do you not like me here? Your mom is still out shopping, and your brother is unconscious. I thought, why don’t I keep you company since it’s just the two of us?”

Even though he still teases, his eyes are now softer. For a moment, he seems to be genuinely interested in you rather than just making jokes, as if he is looking at you differently than he has in the past. As the air between you thickens and you feel trapped but unwilling to move, your pulse quickens.

He leans forward abruptly, getting so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath. “Are you sure you actually want me to leave?” He whispers as his gaze moves over your face, capturing every tiny expression you are unable to conceal.

You catch the words in your throat. Before you can respond, he raises one hand and gently brushes a flyaway hair out of your face, his fingers remaining in place for a beat too long.

He whispers, “Tell me to stop, and I will,” in a low voice that is so intimate it chills you.

However, for some reason, you remain silent. You cannot decide whether you want him to stay or enjoy the excitement of him being this close to you and staring at you as if you are the only person in the room.

All he does is smile, that knowing smile returning to his face. He leans back and whispers, “Thought so,” remaining close enough to feel the electricity of the distance.

The weight of the moment presses down on you in the most euphoric way, making it seem like it will last forever. Even though Heeseung’s smile is still there, his eyes seem softer now, almost tender. He seems to be assessing each response, blush, and look as though recording them all.

In a low, informal voice, he begins, “So.” “Will you explain to me why you stare at me all the time, or will you continue to act as though it’s not obvious?”

He tilts his head, leaning a little closer to make sure you are not escaping too easily, but your face turns red hot, your heart pounding, and you quickly turn your head away. Please do not be so shy around me right now. He laughs softly and adds, “We both know you have been looking for a while.”

It feels like the words are stuck in your throat when you try to say something. He moves, keeping you cornered with his arm braced against the headboard next to your shoulder. The closeness is dizzying.

At last, you are able to find your voice. “I’m not… Really, I wasn’t. It’s not as if I—” His gaze prevents you from forming a coherent sentence, so you trail off.

Evidently taking pleasure in your agitated state, he laughs. “So it was not intentional that I always caught you staring at me in the hallway or whenever you passed by with your friends?”

Your lack of response is sufficient, and he smiles, obviously enjoying your response.

He leans slightly closer, until you can feel his breath fan across your cheek, and murmurs, “I guess I was right, huh?” He says quietly, “But you don’t have to be embarrassed, you know,” in a tone that has become more earnest and almost comforting. “I kinda enjoy it.”

You look up and meet his eyes as those final words give you a start. They have an unexpected quality that makes it seem as though he has known you as well as you have known him. There is still teasing, but it has a deeper, more genuine undertone.

“Wait—what?” Your voice barely rises above a whisper as you manage to blurt out.

His eyes remain fixed on yours as he smiles, softer this time. “Are you sure you don’t know?”

You do not trust yourself to say anything more, so you shake your head. He sighs as if he is having a hard time believing what he is going to say.

“Y/n,” he whispers, “I have been interested in you since long before tonight.”

The words linger between you, vibrating with an intensity that catches you completely off guard, and you freeze. Heeseung’s eyes soften, becoming completely serious instead of playful. His closeness now seems more like a confession than a tease.

You mumble, “Wait,” hardly believing your own voice. “You have not been ignoring me?”

He nods slowly, his previous sly smile giving way to something more real and vulnerable. “Yes, I have noticed you, but I wouldn’t say I have been staring at you. Do you think I have not noticed your gaze on me? Or the way you become silent around me? It’s clear, y/n.”

You are rendered speechless by the shock of what he said. Your heart is thumping in your chest and your mind is racing as you try to process this new reality. You have always known Heeseung was self-assured, perhaps even arrogant, but this? You have never seen him like this before. It is honest and unvarnished, and for a split second, you cannot even tell if you are dreaming.

Trying to gather yourself, you ask, “Are you serious?” but your words come out more breathless than you meant.

He responds softly, “I don’t joke about this kind of stuff,” as his thumb lightly brushes the side of your arm, warming your skin. “I have been trying to determine whether you were feeling the same way or if I was just dreaming.”

Your pulse quickens at the thought, and you bite your lip. The air feels heavier and thicker now, and the room feels smaller. In this moment of unsaid tension, everything around you seems to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you.

You do not say anything for a few seconds, allowing his words to register. You have long admired Heeseung from a distance and wondered what it would be like to be near him. However, you never imagined that he would share your sentiments. And now here he is, publicly acknowledging it, his eyes full of sincerity.

“I…,” you finally manage to say, “I did not know you would notice,” in a hesitant and low voice. “After all, I believed I was being subtle. I did not want to cause any strangeness.”

Hee laughs, his voice deep and comforting. “Clever? You? I promise you, y/n, there is nothing subtle about the way you gaze at me. However, I enjoy it. I have enjoyed it for some time.

For a moment, you question whether you are dreaming as the words hit you like a wave. The fact that he is sitting so close to you and that his hand is now resting on the bed between you two, inches from where yours is, makes the entire situation seem unreal. Even though everything is so personal, there is still a lot of uncertainty, which makes it difficult to completely unwind.

You ask, just above a whisper, “So, what now?” as a mix of anxiety and excitement rises inside of you.

Heeseung’s face softens as he inhales deeply. “Now?” he asks in a soft yet purposeful tone. “y/n, all I am waiting for now is for you to say what you want. Because I am listening to whatever it is. I would rather not hurry you. I have been waiting for you to solve it as well.”

For the first time in what seems like an eternity, you release the tension that has been building between you, and your heart skips a beat. You see the honesty and rawness that mirror your own feelings when you look into his eyes.

You look at him with fresh clarity and say, “I think I have figured it out,” in a quiet but firm voice.

It is the same spark in his eyes that has always held you, and Heeseung’s smile is back, albeit softer this time. “Yes? What did you discover?”

As you slowly extend your hand and touch his, you sense a spark of electricity.

His smile grows, and everything seems to be in harmony at that precise moment. There is no longer any hesitation or act of deceit. Now that you and him are at last in agreement, you can look forward to seeing where this unspoken bond may take you.

With his hand now resting on top of yours, Heeseung whispers, “I am glad you figured it out,” his voice barely audible above a whisper. “Because I have been anticipating that statement from you.”

And then everything is different. Something new—something thrilling, something genuine—replaces the tension and the air feels lighter

Neither of you could have imagined as Heeseung leans in and lightly touches your lips. A thrill is sent through you by the gentle touch of Heeseung’s lips against yours, but it is cut short by the distinct sound of footsteps approaching the door. Panic sweeps through you in a flash, and your heart jumps into your throat. With wide eyes, you instinctively glance at the door as though it might save you from the looming catastrophe as you swiftly pull back.

You hear your brother’s voice, loud and clearly irritated, as the door creaks open just a crack. “Y/nnie? Are you in there?”

Quick as ever, Heeseung leans back and puts just enough distance between himself and you to appear casual, but you can tell he is not nearly as shaken as you are by the way his eyes dart to you and the faint smile that is still tugging at his lips.

You force yourself to swallow in an attempt to control your panic. “Yes, I’m here!” you call out, your voice a little too high-pitched for comfort.

Your brother is standing in the doorway, obviously bewildered, as the door opens wider. His brow furrows in that manner that indicates he is going to ask a ton of questions, and he blinks twice as his eyes dart from you to Heeseung. “What on earth are you two doing in here?”

Your mind is a jumble of ideas and excuses as you fumble for the right words. “Nothin’! Nothing bad, really. We were just—uh, talking.”

Your brother folds his arms across his chest and his eyes narrow. “Talking?” he asks again in a suspicious tone. “You two talk like this all the time?”

Heeseung gives you a barely contained smile when you meet his gaze, as though he finds the entire situation humorous. He is not phased at all, of course, because he has always had that arrogant confidence that helps him get out of a tight spot. In the meantime, you are just a few seconds away from losing it due to embarrassment.

“Indeed, we were just catching up. We haven’t seen one another in a long time,” Heeseung’s voice is smooth and unaffected, as if a single sentence would allay your brother’s suspicions.

Your brother looks back at you with a raised eyebrow. “Catching up in her room, you two? Doesn’t that sound a bit suspicious?”

You give Heeseung a quick, frantic glance, hoping he will save you, but he is taking too much pleasure in this. “Again, we were just conversing. Nothing strange,” Heeseung says with a nonchalant shrug. “But we can go if you have to. I don’t want to invade your territory.” He says with a chuckle.

As though this whole exchange is one big headache he did not sign up for, your brother pauses, still glaring, and then sighs. Then he turns back to the door and murmurs, “Anyway, just don’t make it weird.” “You understand what I mean when I say that you don’t want to hear anything too strange from this room later?”

Heeseung shakes his head and lets out a barely contained laugh as he leaves. His voice is light as he says, “He’s got nothing on us,” but his grin remains mischievous and a bit too knowing.

With your heart still pounding, you release a breath you were unaware you were holding. You mutter, attempting to steady yourself by running a hand through your hair, “I can’t believe he just walked in like that.”

Leaning back against the bed, Heeseung laughs. “Slow down. In any case, he’s too ignorant to solve anything.”

Despite his playful tone, there is a surprising undertone of protectiveness in his voice. He looks you in the eyes, and for a brief moment, you are the only two of you. The tension from earlier returns, but this time it is different—more at ease.

You start to say, “Well, I suppose we should wait until he returns downstairs before we—” but Heeseung cuts you off, his eyes softening.

With a tone that conveys something unsaid, he asks softly, “Before we what?”

You look him in the eyes and feel the tension between you two return. This time, the separation between you is not about actual distance but rather about the potential outcomes and the uncertainty of what lies ahead. You can’t shake the feeling that something could change everything right in front of you.

You confess, “I… I don’t know,” not knowing how to move through the distance between you but unwilling to let go of the bond you have just found. “However, I am aware that I’m not yet prepared for him to solve this.”

With his confidence fully restored, Heeseung grins. “Don’t be concerned. We will resolve the issue. Furthermore, both you and I are aware of what really happens next.”

The ease with which he returns to his typical, carefree self makes you laugh and shake your head. However, you realize that perhaps—just possibly—you are ready to stop acting like everything is easy and let whatever happens between you and Heeseung play out naturally as you sit there with him and hear your brother’s voice reverberating in your head.

Reblogs & Comments are appreciated!

[ marsdql ] •⩊•

[1uvtae]

i think i just saw my ex. | jeon jungkook

★ word count: 10k- yay!

★ genre: classic exes to lovers,,,with slightly suggestive smut,,,and fluff...and the typical mutual pinning that may be a tad (a lot) angst... also TENSION. SOO MUCH TENSION!!!!! and both y/n and jungkook are trying to play hard to get which might be a bit crack up!!!

★ summary/snippet: jeon jungkook is your ex from many years ago, and you think you might've just seen him in a bar…and a part of you is definitely craving him.

★ kae's little chat: playing the typical kae exes to lovers theme, cos all i write about is exes to lovers micro-fics!! (this might be the only thing i'm good at writing) I recently just bought this glazed donut lanolips lip balm and it is what I religiously used while writing this fic for a whole ass week and I hope this fic tastes and smells like glazed donuts to you guys too ;) also a quick tag for @cassies-cookies!!! the fic has arrived!!!

enjoy a little teaser before you start!! can i consider this as an appetizer??

do you want to give me some feedback? request something fun? chit chat with me?!

this is my masterlist and drabble list for more of my works!

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

you are 99.9% sure you just saw your ex.

you can't add that 0.1% on because 1) it is so darn dark in this bar, the annoying flashing lights poking through your eyes and into your soul, and 2), you are drunkenly intoxicated right now.

but gosh, that side profile looks almost identical to him. you've tried to follow him with your gaze, but all you got to closely view was the back of his head. (the very familiar back of his head, may you add.)

this isn’t something you expected on a nice friday evening. 

when you randomly woke up in the middle of the night, you realised you typed quite some texts and paragraphs to that familiar number of his, but it seemed like you were way too drunk to hit “send”. thank god.

blank-eyed, staring at the unsent texts, you felt a stinging pain in your chest. 

you’re not the type to go back to any of your exes, and all your break-ups have been straightforward and savage. plus, you dumped him first!!!

you sit up on your bed, finger tracing over the floral details of your quilt cover. maybe it was because your partners after him have all been so lame, yes definitely that. additionally, you’ve been very single and lonely for the past few months, that’s exactly why you are missing him.

he wasn’t the perfect boyfriend, you remember how childish he was, and was quite protective over you- which was one of the reasons you two didn’t end well. 

but on the other hand…

he was a really good sex partner. you two mended flawlessly together. not to boost his ego or something, but that boy definitely can fuck.

you sighed loudly, pulling the covers over your head. the night is still so long, but you do not have any of the calmness to fall back into sleep.

oh, the long, dark night.

after a whole day of debating and contemplating, you ended up hanging out with a few of your friends back at that specific bar. tonight, you needed someone to get your mind off your ex that you saw yesterday.

when excusing yourself to the bathrooms, you brushed past someone's shoulder in the hallways while scrolling through your instagram feed; he had a broad and tall frame, and his vividly tattooed hand holding a glass cup, and you felt the urge to jerk your head back to see his face. 

thinking “this is someone to take my mind off him!!”, you turn your head and your wild imagination completely halts. you feel your eyes widen and your pupils might as well fall onto the ground - it’s your ex. 

thank god you just got your hair done a few days back and you were head down, focusing on your phone the whole time, so he didn’t even glance at you. your heart completely dropped and skipped a beat, and you rushed into the bathroom to freshen up. 

after you walked out of the restroom, you carefully scanned every table for his silhouette, after locating the target, you walked a good lap around his booth to eye him out. fairly, he wasn’t hard to look for, judging by his clean undercut under those dark brown locks, and his perfect complexions, everyone seemed to notice him the way you did. you spot two girls walking up to him, offering him drinks in exchange for his number. 

you were now more than certain that this was your ex… and you’re also certain that you’ll never get over how attractive he is. 

once you’ve fallen for jeon jungkook, you’ll never fall out.

on the way home you remembered how hard you worked to get him to date you, it was almost rejection after rejection. and then you dumped him?! gosh, now it will be even more difficult to get his attention.

you feel like giving up instantly at that thought, but you cannot help yourself texting your mutual friend yerin: “did jungkook come back?” 

your friend did not respond, which leads to whatever you’re doing right now - sitting on your couch, stalking through social media accounts. it was not under his old username, which made it difficult to find. but you remembered his dog’s name. 

after typing bam’s name into the search bar, it only took a few scrolls to find a decent amount of photos and videos of the brown doberman. after clicking into his account, you sigh. he never posts himself, just some more dog posts and a few random scenery shots. 

continuing to watch every single video of bam, you see that the newest video of the cute dog was taken in another location that didn’t look like the place from the video from before. clicking on the comments, one from his friend reads “you moved?” he replied: “yeah”

you moved, or did you come back?

just realizing what you’ve been doing stupidly for the last 20 minutes, you lock your screen and toss your phone onto the coffee table. your friend responded right after the phone dropped onto the surface. 

“yeah, he quit his job last month, he probably came back” 

did he quit his job?

although he moved to a different city after the breakup, he still worked for the same company you worked for - that could’ve been a reason to reconnect. but now that he has quit that job, it makes it impossible for you to even have an excuse to hit him up.

yerin double-texted, “what’s up abt jungkook?”

you: i think i saw him recently

you: he’s still so fine 

yerin understood your tone extremely well, responding immediately: do you want me to plan a group dinner or something this week

you: yes please, i’m free every night this week

yerin: y/n, i meant ONLY group dinner…nothing else.

you: of course just dinner…what were you thinking?

yerin: i know you way too well

yerin: you obviously don’t only want dinner

you: hm

yerin was very speedy with her planning skills, the dinner was booked to be this friday night, it wasn’t weird at all since you and jungkook did have the same social circle for years, and considering he just came back, it was just more of a couple of friends and coworkers gathering together to celebrate. but yerin did not hint to him that you were also going to attend this dinner at all.

you stood in front of the mirror, your outfit was carefully picked out, and you spent almost 2 hours doing your makeup- in these years, your style has changed drastically, but you still wore the same fragrance he gifted you.

to create your ‘grand entrance’, you decided to show up late by 20 minutes, just so you can look casual and not too prepared to see jungkook. when you were on the road, you received a speedy text from yerin: be mentally prepared for what’s coming.

huh? be prepared for what?

when you were led to the table of the reservation, you realized what she meant.

you recognised every single face, except one. there was an unfamiliar girl seated right next to jungkook. jungkook wore a casual black hoodie, his hair slightly fluffing out. looking almost too soft to touch. you tried very hard not to lay your eyes on him for too long - since you already got a very personal look from the girl that was seated next to him. 

yerin mutters under her breath when you seat yourself next to her, which is right across him. “he brought that random girl over.” 

you keep that in mind, starting to greet your friends, then shooting a look back at yerin,  then whispering “if you told me this was gonna happen i would’ve turned around on the spot and sprinted back home!!!”

(yerin did tell you after the meal that the second you walked into the room, there were almost no expressions on his face. you don’t know if he was already expecting you, or if he just did not care about you whatsoever.)

you hope it’s not the second option.

the dinner was french cuisine, everyone had already ordered some sort of grilled steak while you decided to order sole fish fillets. sipping your chardonnay, you oversee the girl nudge jungkook’s arm, softly asking, gesturing at your transparent drink: “kook, what did that girl order?” he puts his glass down, responding with a gentle tone: “white wine. you pair white wine with fish. wine with red meats.” “so that's why you ordered red wine for me?” she nods before asking again.

“mhm.” he nods in response, taking a sip of water, with his very charming and endearing smile. 

you almost knock over your wine glass when slamming it back down on the table with aggression, suddenly this chardonnay tastes like fucking ass. 

you listen quietly to everyone talking about careers and how they’ve been doing recently, jungkook occasionally opens his mouth to input or say something. you realize how mature he has grown over these years, he speaks like a logical, grown man, and is completely not the person you were with a while back. you remember the old gatherings when you and he were dating - he barely says a word during the whole meal. not going to lie, this well-spoken jungkook is super attractive.

the main course came very fast after the drinks. you gasp at the fancy plating. the girl in front of you takes her knife and fork, struggling to slice the red meat. she slowly glances over to jungkook, and he notices her stare, speedily finishing up cutting up his plate, and offering her his already perfectly sliced steak, taking her uncut serving for himself.

after that, you put down the knife and fork, containing yourself to not roll your eyes.

that was an eyeful. might as well just not eat this shitty meal.

after that awful meal, they all planned to go for a second round, but jungkook said that he couldn’t go because he had to drive the girl home. after hearing that, you lost every interest you had in going for shots, which caused you to head straight home on a friday evening at 9 pm. how eventful.

taking a thoughtful and steamy shower, you decided to put a face mask on. a notification from no other than yerin broke the night’s silence.

yerin: jungkook’s here

you bounced up from your bed, replying within a millisecond. 

y/n: huh? why is he there?

yerin: he’s sitting on the table next to ours

yerin: u coming?

you close your eyes, every single imagination you had got crushed today when you saw the girl that he brought. it was almost hurtful now that you think about it.

yerin continued to add: he didn't bring the girl, if that’s what you’re wondering

hm…you hesitated for a while, but gave up. you can’t be interested in someone with a girlfriend-

yerin: and!! tae was being nosy so he asked him

yerin: turns out that the girl was just a blind date his mum arranged

yerin: not his gf

yerin: u still have a chance yk!!

you yanked the face mask off, rushing to redo your makeup again. you didn’t even bother to drive there, calling an uber instead. before entering the bar, you ensured yerin grabbed jungkook to sit at the same table. 

just when everything was planned beautifully and you were ready to make your grand entrance pt2, you bumped into a client who was by the bar table. how can you reject a business client? quick answer: you can’t. it’s a business client.

having to sit with a stranger by the bar table, but unable to walk to that table with your friends (and your ex)  might be the biggest struggle you’ve ever gotten yourself into. by the time you and the client had finished chatting and drinking, jungkook had left not only the table but the entire nightclub.

oh my gosh, you are going to lose your mind! a whole full stomach of alcohol and yet you still haven’t gotten to use your flirting tactics on your ex that you’ve been missing. you did not feel like staying at all, dragging yerin to get out of this hellhole. 

but who knew you’d see him again in the parking lot?

every cloud has a silver lining.

and there jungkook stood, leaning against his flashy black mercedes, phone to his ear. the second you saw him, you knew what to do. you were going to fake being drunk. you link arms with yerin, stumbling your steps and attempting to slur your words. yerin has to straighten you up manually when she goes over to jungkook. “hey jungkook! i thought you already left.” jungkook puts the phone back into his pocket. “i was just about to.”

yerin wasn’t hesitant at all, almost shoving you at him, thinking he’d help grab onto you, but he did not move a single muscle. her last resort was to lean you against the car. “perfect! can you drive y/n home? the girls are still waiting for me so…”

he opened his mouth to speak, you figured he was going to reject yerin. before a single sound came out of his mouth, yerin quickly interrupted him, “amazing! thanks so much, dude!! okayimjustgonnago-!” from your peripheral vision, you could see her almost sprint from the parking lot back into the front door of the club.

all that was left was you, who was faking drunk, and jungkook, with his brows, knitted, looking down at you.

judging from how rapidly yerin ran away from you, jungkook knows he can’t do anything else other than drive you home. he sighed and held open the passenger’s door for you. he raised his chin, gesturing you to hop in.“get in yourself.” he heard you chuckle at his words, turning to him and giving him a judging glance, then getting into the seat.

jungkook was extremely confused, and only realized the reason when he got into the driver's seat.

you seemed to not let that joke go, “i’m in, what now?” jungkook keeps a straight face while starting the engine. “seatbelt.”

he drove out of the parking lot, and he immediately hit a left turn, driving towards the direction of your house. after a few moments, he turned his head towards her at a red light. “where do you live?” your eyes were shut, leaning back on the seat, not wanting to respond to him.

jungkook does not want you to know that he still remembers your address off by heart like an idiot, so he turns into a random street on his right and keeps on driving. after feeling the car stopping, you open your eyes, peeking out the window. 

the hotel?? he drove you to a hotel?? you kept your eyes shut, as a silent protest to not get out of the car. you knew jungkook too well, he probably wanted to just leave your ass in the hotel, and you won’t get to ever see him again if you went with that.

jungkook nudges you with a finger hesitantly. you didn’t even budge. after a deep sigh from the man in the driver's seat, you hear the engine start again. 

he always drove at a perfect steady pace. you swear you almost dozed off when you felt the car stop in the underground parking garage. 

jungkook gently held onto you up the elevator, you heard the sound of a door unlocking, and your ears perked up when the sound of the door opening was followed by a loud bark from bam.

he brought you back to his place. that perfectly goes with your plan!!

you behaved the entire way home just for this moment. all that acting led up to this moment. he locked the front door, then squatted in front of you to help you take off your black heels. you were going to be using the moment wisely- when jungkook carried you over to the couch to put you down, you scratched his lower torso aggressively with your right hand. 

it was a strong scratch, causing the person carrying you to let a harsh hiss under his breath. he looked down at your sharply shaped nails, then at the girl in his hands right now, your eyes were shut, lashes slightly fluttering.

he always liked working out and had an almost daily streak of hitting up the gym, resulting in his body being super in shape. he had the perfect model figure- abs, pecs, shoulders, you name it. he has it. you look back on how great he was at using his strength advantage in bed, gosh, he was perfect.

even being able to leave a little scratch on his skin could do something to you right now.

jungkook goes straight into the kitchen to pour you a cup of water. the first thing he did though, was lift up his hoodie and inspect the scratch. and under the hoodie, lay two vivid red scratch marks on his lower abdomen. the bright marks went from his veins into his spank bank, the vivid images of you under his control, he reminisces how you always loved scratching his back, his neck, and his shoulders when he hit your soft spots. jungkook’s skin was always very sensitive, making it effortless to leave marks and bruises for days. he recalls his friends making fun of the scratch marks you left on his back ever so often during the few summers when you and he were dating.

by the time he recollected himself and brought you the glass of water, you were already fast asleep on his leather couch. he watches you for a while and realizes you still look the same after this many years. more mature, but still the appearance he could never forget, even in his dreams. his eyes fall on your delicate ears before he puts a stop to his mind.

he clears his throat. “go sleep in the bedroom.”

your eyelashes flutter as you turn to face the other side of the couch, mumbling something inaudible to yourself before getting back into your dreamland.

jungkook: “y/n?”

his ears catching a delicate airy whine leave your mouth.

jungkook isn’t too fond of whatever game you are playing, but he knows what you want to do to him. he’s matured and grown now, not the loverboy that was wrapped around your pinky finger anymore. he can read expressions off your face very accurately. considering the fact that it has been years since the breakup, and you had never broken the non-contact thing.

and suddenly after he got back into town, a reuniting dinner was planned, you showed up to the clubs, and whatever yerin was trying to do, and now- you are in his house, on his couch. he knows exactly what you’re trying to do.

this is exactly the little tricks you used to play, and he fell head-first into it last time.

he promised himself that he would never fall into the same hole twice!

but of course, he won’t let you sleep on his couch for the whole night. this two-seater leather couch is extremely small for anyone to find comfort in. your figure is curled up in the soft seats, and he notices your legs almost dangling out from the couch. 

he bends down to swoop you up, and by instinct, your arms find his neck. he slowly makes his way towards the bedroom, not wanting to wake up the girl in his arms.

considering this was a brand-new apartment, jungkook doesn’t have a bed yet- it’s just a mattress in the middle of the floor. he lowers his body carefully and places you in the centre of the bed, thinking your arms would instantly unwrap themselves from your neck, he tries to stand back up. but your grip on him was way too tight, jungkook almost lost his balance, but his reaction was fast enough for him to use his arm strength to hold on both sides of the bed, keeping a small dangerous distance from falling on top of you. his warm breath lands on your exposed neck, and you feel the warmth melting on your collarbones. 

you had to keep everything within yourself to not pull him closer, hoping he would find his balance to move away from you, instead, it’s almost as if he bowed his head lower, leaving more burning breath marks on your collarbones. the itchy feeling almost numbing. you couldn’t help but slightly peel your eyes open discreetly- through your lashes, you realise he was already on his feet again, simply pulling the covers up for you. 

the soft quilt falls on top of your lower torso, and his warm hand ‘accidentally’ brushes against your thigh before he completely gets up. he watches your reaction for a short while, but nothing from your side. he knew if it this was two years ago, you would’ve absolutely gone for it right now. he remembers even if his hand slightly rested on your thigh while driving, you would immediately get him to pull up on the side of the road for a heated makeout session. but it looks like, y/n is not the y/n he remembered.

jungkook turned off the big light, leaving a small night lamp on by the bedside table before patting bam to follow him back to the living room, planning to deal with the couch for the night. 

honestly speaking, if he stayed for even one more single second, you wouldn’t be sure what you’re capable of doing to him.

painful, very painful.

it was almost 4 am when you opened your eyes, trying to adjust to the dim lighting of the room. your eyes land on the agape bedroom door. from where you’re resting, you can clearly see most of the living room. there he lay, on the couch. 

jungkook normally sleeps just in his boxers, but considering the fact that you’re in the residence, he had to grab a pair of sweats to cover up. you observe the man on the couch, he is lying on his back, and you end up studying his figure. you could tell he was wearing nothing under those grey sweats- gosh the grey sweats and his shirtless body?! 

you shut your eyes and sigh. contain yourself y/n. 

if you weren’t already, you’re surely hungry for jeon jungkook now.

but you must control yourself now- jungkook knows what game you’re playing, and so do you. he’s such a slippery fish to catch- you can’t just pull the rod as soon as you hook him? 

and, it looks like he wasn’t going to give in tonight that easily too.

this can be a fun game to play.

you watch him for a little longer, he turns his body to sleep on his right side, now his body fully facing you. well- this is awful. it took no time for you to fall asleep for the millionth time, this time- it was a heavy sleep. the scent of his bed surrounding you.

you decide to stay in his bed for a little longer because you know you have to leave the second you wake up. 

jungkook also stayed home today, heading into the bathroom to clean up, then making breakfast, following up with feeding bam, and lastly back to the couch, attending a business call meeting. 

if you didn’t have to use the bathroom so urgently, you could stay in his bed until noon. you crawled out of bed to stretch, then mentally prepared yourself to walk out of his room. well, you can’t fake drunk anymore, can you?

after coming out of the washroom, you slowly walk to jungkook, trying not to interrupt him. “...do you know where my phone went…?” 

his gaze did not leave the laptop screen, his chin raised slightly, directing you to the device on the coffee table- where your phone lay. you hesitantly collect your phone, wanting to thank him about yesterday, but the sight of him so focused stops you. you didn’t have the heart to interrupt him, making way to the entrance. 

you put your heels on while watching bam play with his ball on the side. the doberman notices you, walking over to you while cocking his head which reminds you of how jungkook would always do. you reach a hand out to pat his head but bam back up immediately out of caution. 

feeling a little butthurt, you ask: “don’t remember me?”

not only forgetting about you, but bam also leaves to sit next to the man on the couch. jungkook gives bam an endearing rub, then looks up at you, standing by the door. 

wow, bam. he always preferred jungkook over you, even when you and him were together.

you glance at the black-brown dog….but now you have a reason to contact him again.

although finding his social media account was a hassle, his phone number never changed. the same night after leaving his house, you found the number that you almost accidentally texted.

y/n: can i pick bam up from yours

he replied almost instantly: and you are?

you let out a light laugh in unbelief before texting back: y/n

then it took a good 30 minutes to get a text back. “sure thing, but only if he wants to go home with you.”

you roll your eyes at the obvious fact that: of course bam doesn’t want to go home with you?! considering the cold shoulder he gave you this morning. 

but it’s okay since the cute dog was never the target to go for in the first place.

the day after the text, you went straight to his apartment after work, not bothering to change out of your work outfit- because you knew he was very into this specific set. it was a simple creamy white formal skirt set with black opaque tights.( and he loved this set. so much to the point by the time you normally got back home, he would press you onto the couch immediately. your skirt would usually be wrinkly by the time you two were done.)

jungkook answered the door, his eyes instantaneously landing on the girl in front of him, his eyes slightly widened for a split second. he has to admit, that you recognize his preferences a little too well. 

it's not because he likes the pantyhose with skirt look, but more because it is on you. especially because he would watch you get ready for work all seriously, and you would get home and find his shoulders immediately, draping on top of him all tired and worn out from socializing. and he was a whore for it. 

he’s literally hooked for you.

he opened the door wide open for you, he didn’t have any spare slippers in the house, so before you could take your slip heels off, he stopped you. “no need.” 

after shutting the door, he opened his mouth: “you didn’t bring anything?”

you’re here to pick up bam, and yet you came empty-handed, causing bam to only take one glance at you before jumping on the couch, disinterested. 

jungkook brought bam’s toys and treats over to you, yet bam didn’t even budge, to the point where he had to physically carry him over to you. it seemed like bam wasn't having any of this, not even giving you any sort of attention. jungkook had to give him a big encouraging talk before handing the medium-sized dog over to you. 

you needed a lot of strength to hold the doberman in your arms while jungkook went to get a dog leash. the second bam saw the leash in jungkook’s hands,he started to struggle out of your grasp, struggling to get out of your embrace. 

you weren’t prepared for the dog to be so strong, before you could let go of him, he had already left a faint bite mark on your arm, you winced under your breath while watching bam hop over to jungkook’s feet. jungkook hurried to drop the leash, coming up to you. “are you all good?”

“just a bite.” you brought your arm to his eye level, it wasn’t bleeding or anything, just a clear bite. “i’ve got some antibiotic ointment. you want some?”

you nodded your head. “sure.”

“...do you want to those off then?”

“hm?” you followed his eyes, looking down at your tights, a hole had been scratched open too, and you didn’t realize that maybe bam had also scratched you on the leg while trying to get out of your grasp. “yeah- yeah. i’ll do that.” you answered after excusing yourself to the bathroom. taking off the nylons, you threw them into the laundry basket before checking the scratch.

it was nothing but a pink line, you hurried out of the room, scared that by the time you headed out, it would already have faded. 

jungkook was already seated on the familiar couch by the time you finished taking your tights off. you went over and seated down extremely close to him. pressing your thigh against his knee to show him the faint mark. he kept a very straight face while taking out the otc ointment from the first aid kit. he treated the few marks, you don't know if it was intentional or not, but he applied way too much on the injuries, leaving a big patch of your skin covered in ointment. 

you look at him, who is now putting the cream back into the box. he clears the silence, “it doesn’t seem like he wants to go with you.”

you let out a sigh, looking at the dog resting by jungkook’s side. “it’s a shame that he completely forgot about me.”

“it’s been too long since he last saw you, that’s why.” he gives loving pats to bam, and you find an endearing smile creeping on your face at the scene. you muttered under your breath, “i missed him, i definitely wanted to live with him.” jungkook turned his head from the dog to you, adding “i take great care of him, and he likes me more.” 

you went silent. that’s an unarguable fact. the silence went on for another minute when he spoke again. “gotta rebuild the trust again.” 

your ears perk up at his comment…does this mean you can come to visit more often…to build the relationship again?

but you know it’s petty unlike for bam to like you again, lowering your head slightly, you mention, “i don’t think so,” you look up into his glassy, pure eyes, “i don’t want to force it. he looks way more comfortable with you anyway.” you’re not sure if jungkook wanted to hear that, but his brows slightly knot as he slowly opens his mouth to speak. “you’re giving up? even just being friends?” 

your eyes immediately widen- you’re not sure if he meant being friends with bam…or him. he subconsciously avoids eye contact with you, looking back down at bam. “since i- no, bam, can consider you as a co-owner.”

you like the sound of that.

this is something you could get used to.

jungkook didn’t seem like he minded you staying, so you obviously did not have any intentions of leaving just yet. you’re playing with bam (surprisingly you and bam have gotten quite along within an hour) when his takeout arrives. he hesitantly asked you if you wanted to have dinner together, which you agreed happily to. he walked into the kitchen to cook something extra for the two of you.

you weren’t too hungry, but you had to admit you desperately missed his cooking. it was already 9 pm when you and him had finished dinner. the entire time it was filled with small talk and comfortable silence. you left right after dinner, saying farewell to bam, and received a slight nod from jungkook. 

after getting home, your phone buzzed with a notification from jungkook’s number. it was an image of your tights in his laundry basket. you locked the phone without replying and hopped into the shower. 

after doing your skincare, you casually replied: “chuck it in the trash”

jungkook sent a photo of the tights in the rubbish bin with no other caption.

you decided to tease him a little: or you can keep it if you want

jungkook: ……i’m not that gross

as if he has never touched your tights. you don't even remember how many pairs of your stockings he had ripped during the time when you two were together.

as if he could read your mind, he sent a full 2-minute video of him taking the rubbish bag outside, followed by him throwing the plastic bag into the rubbish bin with no remorse. you watch the video on a loop for a few minutes, chuckling to yourself.

you weren’t sure what got into your mind the next day. after taking a relaxing bubble bath after work, something within you told you to find jungkook. although you were very rough from working, you still felt energized to prepare yourself. after putting on a tank top and a skirt- you made your way out. 

your hair still damp, you decided to pick some snacks on the way to his house. with confident and happy steps, you knocked on his door.

no answer. 

you stood outside the locked door, dialing his number: he picked up within two rings, voice relaxed and soft. “what’s up?”

“are you not at home?” 

he paused for a split second “you’re coming over?”

you hummed in response, “i brought fried chicken too.” 

“i’m out fishing.” jungkook said, then changed to a softer tone. “since…it didn’t look like you were coming over tonight.”

you suppressed your laughter, teasingly asked: “so you were waiting for me then?”

the other side of the phone remained silent, causing you to let out a giggle. “i’ll come find you, share your location.” 

he hung up, sharing his location with you right after- a freshwater lake close by. you made your way to his location with no hesitation.

bro he’s actually fishing on this fine evening.

it was extremely dark by the lakeside, but you could make out the figure of many middle-aged men sitting by the lake. turning your phone flashlight on, you spot your familiar ex-boyfriend in the middle of many men. 

he stood up to borrow a foldable stool from the man next to him. you tidied your skirt before sitting real close to him, your arm pressing against his. he looked at you on his side, “it’s too hot.” he muttered. you didn’t move away at all, instead, you decided to lean your head on his broad shoulder. he didn’t move away either.

you didn’t understand the joy of fishing but still watched him the whole time quietly. it felt peaceful to have him against you by the dark, calming lake. 

instead, jungkook felt slightly heated - how is it possible to focus on his rod when he had you leaning on him? it only took him half an hour to start packing his equipment, he couldn’t stand you next to him! you’re such a distraction! (not that he’s complaining…) 

after leaving the lake, you two stood under the road lights, he glanced at you under the warm streetlights. he noticed your glassy eyes of discomfort. he looked down at the few itchy bites on your arms. oh shit- he forgot to remind you about that. 

the lake was surrounded by grassy areas, he was smart by wearing a long sleeve and sweatpants, but he forgot to warn you about the mosquitoes before sending you his location. it was only around 30 minutes, but he could spot a few reddish marks on your arm, waist, and legs.

you didn’t realise this when you were by the lake, but now that you’re under the light, you can see the spots clear as day. jungkook takes your hand to lead you to his car, occasionally having to stop you from touching the mosquito bites. “don’t scratch them, we’ll be home soon.” he tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, before stopping to caress your earlobe for a slight second.

“but it’s itchy.”

“patient.”

you bite down on your lip. patient. you should’ve been patient when you were taking that damn bath!!! this is what you get when you’re too eager for jeon jungkook.

jungkook took you back to his, immediately using a cold damp towel to caress over the little scattered bites. the mosquitos that were by the lakeside were deadly- the small pink dots had turned into a few red swollen bumps. 

you were in his embrace, feeling nothing but defeated. this is literally his second time treating your injuries within two days. a familiar feeling you feel before tearing up runs up your nose, triggering your eyes to start to build up with tears. oh, you feel so guilty right now. almost weeping in his lap, he comforts you on the back while the other hand applies ointment on the bumps, he pulls out a handheld fan to relieve the itching. 

“there’s more on the legs.” you tugged on his sleeve, speaking through sulking. jungkook moves to search for the rest of the bites, not expecting you to lift up your skirt to reveal the red mark on the inside of your left thigh. jungkook hesitates for a split second before applying some of the white ointment on his fingertip, his heart seems to be beating faster than usual - his head spinning, but he ignores it. 

when his hands move closer to the spot, you close your legs slightly out of discomfort, just enough to cover the mark with your panties. jungkook feels his breathing fasten, he uses his middle finger to push the fabric of the underwear out of the way, rubbing the treatment on the spot. he wasn’t too sure what he touched, but he was sure he saw a slight reaction from your body, causing your hand that was holding the skirt to slightly twitch. feeling a twinge of playfulness creep up, he holds the small fan to the spot, turning it on with the press of a button. 

you immediately close your legs out of sensitivity, giving him an alarming look. the second your legs squeezed against each other, jungkook swore he touched your core with his hand. he felt a numb shoot from his hand, through his veins, then right to his scalp. 

you noticed his reaction on his face, and downwards. half of you wanted to take the rare opportunity- but you listened to the other half that told you to slow this down. you decided to leave after that interaction, not giving the both of you what you two obviously want from each other. 

plus, he has the whole night to deal with that problem. and plenty of time to think about you.

talking about giving him time, you made the cruel decision to not contact him for the next few days. not to remind you, there was a load of work you had to do for this week for your job.

you knew jungkook would never break the ‘no contact’ type of thing either, but through some late-night stalking, you did find him updating his social media a little too frequently. either it was some workout progress pictures or his dinner with bam. weird.

the weekend came by fast, yerin texted you wondering if you wanted to go bowling with her, you hesitated, wanting to use tomorrow getting ready to see jungkook and bam. but she added that jungkook was going to be there- and you were immediately sold.

yerin’s boyfriend was decent friends with jungkook, they always hung out together, but right after you and jungkook ended things roughly, her boyfriend did not seem to like you very much. which is very reasonable since you did break up with him over text and whatever. which is something that has been keeping you awake at night lately.

arriving at the bowling alley, you see someone familiar with jungkook…the blind date girl. she had two bottles of sprite in her hands while sitting on the side benches. you can’t help but notice the pair of matching sneakers they had on.

you watch with widened eyes as jungkook goes over to her to converse, his eyes glistening with a smile that you haven’t seen in a while.

you do not like jeon jungkook very much right now.

yerin drags you to go say hi to her boyfriend and jungkook, you get a hesitant and sly “hey” from yerin’s boyfriend while jungkook on the side spares you a glance, just one single glance, to instantly turn back to the girl, the two chatting away. oh okay, so he’s going to do this now. 

out of annoyance, you decided to cheer and clap for every other guy that is up bowling. you immediately caught the attention of one boy, he walked up to you, asking for your number with redness rising from his ears. naturally, you couldn’t reject him right now, giving your number in a swift motion right in front of jungkook. 

still no acknowledgement from him.

finding a spot next to him on the benches, you intentionally sat closer to him. he gave you one warning look before scooting to the other side.

the girl on his right seemed to notice you, sparing you a cautious look while handing jungkook a pre-opened sprite bottle- he took it easily, raising the bottle to his mouth to take a sip out of it. 

you slightly raised your arm, bumping the bottle with some strength just before his lips touched the bottle's mouth…causing a few drops to splatter out and onto the collar of his t-shirt, and his face.

as this was not expected at all, the other girl lets out a sharp gasp before pulling a pack of tissues out of her purse, and he takes it urgently to wipe the liquid off his face. you feel him turning to look at you, head cocked, his tongue poking around his mouth. you decided to play dumb, “shit, i’m so sorry kook, i didn't mean to do that.”

the girl on the other side kept calling jungkook by kook the whole time, hearing the nickname leave your mouth, he knows exactly what you’re doing. you’re doing this again.

jungkook didn’t make a single sound, while yerin’s boyfriend couldn’t help but let out a chuckle out his mouth at your actions.

when he got the chance to bowl, he took it very seriously, pins knocked after pins. yerin nudges you to capture your attention: “it’s definitely because he wants to show off to someone he’s interested in.” 

you: “can’t be that blind-dating girl, can it?”

yerin: “well it’s not you…not after all that…”

you commented sourly: “she’s not his type.”

yerin gives you a knowing smile. “y/n oh y/n.”

“i know yerin, i’m being very stupid. but i can’t help it.”

you fully understand what “the grass is always greener on the other side” means now. you want what you can’t have.

the loud sound of many pins being knocked down, this is his second strike in a row- a turkey, if you will. your eyes darted towards him after the ‘STRIKE’ was displayed on the screen, but he was looking at the girl sitting on the bench, currently giving him two thumbs-ups.

he responded with a boyish smile.

and that was your cue to leave. you told yerin you felt like leaving early, and she grabbed your arm before you could go. “we’re nearly done then we’re getting dinner, you really wanna leave?” “yeah, i’m going…” you replied, uninterested anymore.

driving home, your phone buzzed many times when you hit a red light. yerin notified you that once you left, it seemed like jungkook also lost his energy to continue playing, hitting only a few pins before leaving with the girl without staying afterwards. 

an idea popped into your head, causing you to spin the wheel and turn back- to his house.

this will be the final time you’ll ever willingly go to his house if this does not work out the way you wanted.

when you arrive at the familiar door, you know he probably hasn’t gotten home just yet. you decided to wait outside. the thought that what if he brought the girl home? races through your mind as you suddenly shoot up, contemplating whether you should just hop into the elevator and go home before you vividly see that image happen in front of your eyes.

you are now facing the closed elevator, a shaky finger hovering over the “↓” button. just before physically pressing it, the ‘ding’ from the elevator pulled you back to reality from your thoughts. you watch the door open at a snail's pace, revealing the figure of one specific person- just one, thank god.

jungkook has his phone in one hand, scrolling through emails when he notices that a person is standing outside of the elevator. and it was you. his girl.

eyes meet. he holds strong eye contact, and you could look right through those brown eyes. no words were needed at this moment. the distance between the two of you closes when he hurries to unlock the door, takes your purse and throws it onto the couch, pushing you against the back of the door. everything just simply felt right. his right hand immediately found itself slightly pinching the soft flesh of your earlobe- as if it was made to rest on top of your lobe.

you seriously missed being this close to him, feeling your knees weaken as he pressed his soft lips on you, he tasted like exactly what you’ve been missing for these years. it feels almost like what you feel when you’re in love. you pulled away when bam nudged your foot, but he was more forceful than ever, lifting your chin to meet your lips with his again. you only needed to focus on jungkook at this moment.

right when your hands were finding their way into his shirt, he pulled away, gazing at you. “i got to shower first.” he said, slightly out of breath. 

jungkook rushed home after dropping that girl off, planning to take a shower before driving to your place. he had nothing to lose at this point- he doesn’t care if you know that he still remembers your address; he doesn’t care if he’s the one outside your door this time. the way he should’ve been two years ago.

but he was taken by surprise when he saw you outside his front door. 

he couldn’t keep lying to himself that he doesn’t think about you, because you’re all he’s been missing about every single day. you, you, and only you.

you couldn’t let go of him at all, scared that he’d just slip away if you didn’t have your hands on him. “we can shower together.” 

…the ‘shower’ took almost a whole hour. the bathroom echoed with your whines. many times, jungkook had to wrap his hand around your mouth, softly reminding you through his own pleasurable groans “the walls are thin in the bathroom, darl.”

carrying you to his bed, you were surprised at how effortlessly the mattress allowed him to move all over you. at first, you did not realize, but he was being way too harsh with you.

he was rough when he wanted to be, but he was never this rough?!! jungkook had no hesitation in marking you, pinching your waist when you moved in his rhythm, every single push inside of you made you feel like he wanted to pin you straight into the bed. not to mention-  your entire body has been scattered with bites and signs of his touch. you’re definitely not complaining about how perfect he felt when he mended into you, and you had to admit, he was so fucking hot when he is rutting himself inside of you out of pure desire and frustration. 

jungkook did not want to hurt you in any way, and you both knew that.

but you did not need him knowing that this was the most passionate, satisfying sex you’ve ever had. so you made the bold decision to start putting your underwear on right after the sensual fuck. not giving him any time for aftercare. 

jungkook was lying comfortably on the bed when he noticed that you wanted to leave, his quick reaction caused him to sit up, large hands holding down your waist as he pressed you back down into the mattress. his bright eyes stared at you, “where are you heading to? hm?”

“back home,” you maintain deep eye contact, it’s hard not to kiss him when his soft, pretty lips are at a reachable distance in front of you. “i obviously can’t stay the night…”

jungkook’s grip on your waist tightened, you swear you saw the light in his eyes die out almost immediately. almost a fog covers his pupils and you figure maybe you were a little too extreme with that answer. 

a delicate emotion runs across his face and he almost looks hurt when he finally gathers his words, “so…you waited outside my house…just to sleep with me?”

in that moment, you felt like the biggest cunt in the world.

you couldn’t find the right answer, if you said yes, you are the biggest cunt in the world confirmed- if you said no, you don’t think that’s a correct answer either way.

after not collecting a response from you, jungkook lets go, plopping back onto the bed, it’s almost like he took that silence from you as a confirmation of his theory. he laughs to himself, “fuck, why do i keep falling for these games you play?”

he moves his eyes away from you, to a random object in the room. “if you could’ve told me you’re real intention to simply just sleep with me ages ago, we wouldn’t be like this at all, y/n.”

you close your eyes, remaining in your position on his bed. 

in the start, you were definitely in it just for a quick fuck. but it looks like you’re now in deep waters. jungkook is irresistible- and you might’ve gone way too far with this one.

“don’t say that.” you move to his side, “i seriously loved you back then.” 

“if you loved me, i don’t think you would’ve sent me off to a different city, y/n.”

“i told you it was an opportunity…i know you’d be better off if you got that job, even if we broke up, i wanted you to be successful, and not- stay in this small city…being stuck with me.” you replied, hoping he would meet eye with you again.

jungkook was tired of arguing about this. he knew the both of you weren’t the best when it came to communicating, he didn’t want to leave your city because you were in it, but he knew it might’ve been the end when he saw his name on the office announcement. he told you he couldn’t accept doing long distance, while you simply replied over text “then let’s just end it all. no matter if you go or not. let’s just end it here.” and that ruined him. 

it was almost like you just desperately wanted to get rid of him.

if only he had the balls to drive to your house to talk this out, but he didn’t.

he absolutely should’ve, but he didn’t. 

“look at this! it’s painful.” he stopped in his thoughts when your head found his chest, you were pointing to the bruises he had left on your thigh. “jungkook! bruises.”

jungkook didn’t want to respond at all, but couldn’t help looking down on your pretty body. many parts of your skin were turning red from his roughness. he knew he didn’t use much strength at all, your skin was just easily sensitive. but he couldn’t help but feel his heart soften slightly when he heard your voice full of sulk. 

he spoke with a gentle tone “sorry,” while circling an arm around your waist, massaging your hips. “does it still hurt?”

“yeah.”

jungkook adjusted his position, hovering over you, he kissed every single mark he made on your body, making sure every single area on your skin was being loved. 

“what now?”

you knew exactly what he was asking about. what now? us? but you played dumb once again. “what?”

looking down at you his tongue ran over his pillow lips, he remained silent. 

“you explain the matching sneakers first.” you raised your eyebrows.

“i bought them on purpose after i saw her wearing them after friday dinner. to piss you off.” jungkook replied.

but he didn’t include the part where he rejected her forwardly and blatantly the first night when he drove her home after dinner. he didn’t include the part where he asked her the night before going bowling if she could help him with a favor. he didn’t include the part where the favor was to ask her if she could come and help him act this way to piss you off. 

you couldn’t help but let a giggle slip when he stared at you with a straight face. “okay, now i like you a whole lot again.”

after receiving a satisfying answer, a smile of relief crept onto his face, feeling his jaw unclench. “so you’re not just in it for one single fuck?” he teased.

“one won’t be enough.”

“give me an amount then.”

“i don’t know…until you’re bored of me? i guess?” you replied, intertwining your hand with his.

i will never get bored of you, he thought to himself. he looked at your soft hand interlocked with his, not only will he never get bored of you, but he’ll also never let go of this hand ever again.

his other hand reached for your earlobe.

after getting back together with jungkook, you’ve realized how different this man has become over this time. 

you remember him sometimes being very unreasonable, overprotective, almost overwhelming- of a boyfriend. and of course, sometimes jealousy is cute! you get that, but he was over the top about it. but now- now this is different. 

it’s the indifferences that make a relationship cute!

occasionally you still pull a cheeky lie, telling him that you’re going home to rest- but bumping into him in a local bar. he wouldn’t be angry at all, unlike before. instead, he would drag you with a teasing smile to come drink at his table. that’s when you know you’re in for a long night back at his house.

but there was something you really wanted to talk out with him. 

one summer night, when the cold wind was blowing through his large window, you turned your body to face him- there was something that was keeping you up tonight. he felt your movement next to him, “what’s up?”

“it’s been like…two months since we got back together, right?”

“right.”

“i think i want to talk some things out.”

thank god the night was dim, and jungkook was grateful because of that, he knows the expression on his face is not very charming. if this was a face-to-face conversation, he doesn’t know how he’ll be able to handle it. 

“yeah?” there was a hint of calmness in his voice, almost like he was forcing it. jungkook doesn’t know what to expect. he thought there would be a different result this time- he’s a different person! he finds himself desperately praying with his aching heart that this will not be another heart-shattering break-up again. 

at least, this time it's in person, right?

right?

he was lost in panic when your hand squeezed him under the quilt. 

“jungkook, do you think i broke up with you because i wanted to get rid of you?”

was it not? the three words were stuck in his throat, but he wanted to hear your voice more than his own right now.

“well, it wasn’t. it was for a more stupid reason- not because you were clingy, and whatever you thought. i wanted you to be successful, of course. but it was all out of my stupidity, i texted that out of anger, i didn’t actually mean it. i just wanted to see if you would come find me. come talk it out. i know we both weren’t good with words.”

you lowered your voice, “stupidly, a selfish part of me- even though i wanted you to get the job- a little bit of me still wished that you would’ve picked me over that.” after your little statement, you felt a heavy rock was lifted from your chest.

the hand that you held slightly twitched under your grip. he fully moved to face you. you turned away out of embarrassment. 

to honestly admit that you love jeon jungkook, is a harder thing than you thought. 

you felt the mattress vibrate, and then you realize he was now laughing at you. “i believe everything you say, even if you lied to my face, i would trust you without a doubt, y/n.” 

“that was all my honest words!!!”

“i know. i know.” he said through chuckles. you turned towards him, embracing your urge to touch your lips with his. with muffled laughter, he moves right on top of you, locking both sides of your body with his strong thighs. 

it’s annoying how he’s still smiling….when he’s peeling your pyjamas off you.

his eyes are glassy and glowy under the reflection of the moonlight, you could get lost in them for days. 

“i don’t care what you say,” he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, “i’ve always loved you more than you did me. y/n.”

“okay then.” you replied, not wanting to argue with the man who was currently pressing lovebites on your neck.

jungkook smirks against your neck, 

way, way more. (end)

here is my masterlist if you want to enjoy some more of my writing!

and until next time, kae.

[fanged-fanfics]

👑🧡 Wukong and Macaque x GN reader — Bedtime (Drabble) 💜🌙

Genres: Romance, Fluff, Poly || they/them pronouns for reader || Warnings: Overworking

˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆˚｡⋆୨👑🌙୧⋆˚｡⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹

It was late at night, but you still had a personal project you needed to finish up. It had already taken you way longer than you had expected. You already had it in your head that if you wanted any hope of completing this, it was gonna have to be an all-nighter. You were writing down the necessary information, arm already sore from the work and eyes feeling heavy. You had your other hand on your cheek in hopes of keeping yourself up.

As you worked, the time ticked on, getting deeper and deeper into the night. Everything in you was begging for you to sleep, but you steeled yourself to keep going. That is until you felt a warm hand over your own. You looked up, jolting a little in surprise at the sudden arrival. Wukong was giving you a small look of concern, a gentle smile accompanying it. "Hey, Sunshine. You've been working for hours" the King pointed out gently, slowly lifting your sore hand. You let the writing utensil fall from your grip as he gently kissed the center of your palm. "Mmn, I know. But I've got so much work to do still..." You mumbled in reply

"Too much to even see us?" another voice called from your other side. Your turned, seeing Macaque come up through a portal in the floor with that smirk on his face "You must really be swamped, hon". You gave a small chuckle that faded to a deep sigh. Macaque noticed, pulling up a chair to sit next to you and rub your shoulder as Wukong gently massaged your other hand. "I'm sorry," You said gently "I got so caught up in what I needed to do". Macaque gave a small hum. "I think you've done enough for tonight, Mooncake. Time for bed"

"Bed?" You repeated, like the idea was absolutely insane "I can't, I've still got to-". "You won't be able to get anything done if you can't even move your hand, Sunshine" Wukong gently cut in, kissing the inner wrist of your sore arm. "I'll be okay" You protested "Just a few more paragraphs, then I can call it a night". "It's already well past the middle of the night, love" Macaque responded with a raised eyebrow as he looked to the nearest clock. You gave another sigh "I promise, guys, I'm fine".

Macaque and Wukong glanced to one another before looking back at you. "At least take a break" Macaque offered, Wukong chiming up after him "You'll work much better if you do". Despite being sure there was something more to this, you ended up agreeing. Your mind was starting to fog from all the working, so maybe this would help after all

Your boyfriends set to work the second you agreed. Macaque helped you get into pajamas, Wukong made you a comfort snack and grabbed your favorite blanket. They then set up the couch, letting you sit in between them as they gently squished you in from both sides. Wukong grabbed the remote and behan flicking through channels. "What do you feel like watching, Sunbeam?" he asked you. You gave a dull hum as the channels flicked past, until picking the first vaguely recognizable thing you could see

With the TV on and your boyfriends on either side, you easily fell into feeling content. Especially since they weren't arguing this time around. You enjoyed the snack you were given, glad to have something to help fill your stomach. The warmth from the blankets and the swimming of your tired head gave way to fatigue soon enough. You didn't realize how tired you really were until now

After seeing you yawn for the third time, Macaque leaned against your shoulder with a chuckle "Looks like you're tired, Mooncake". This time you gave an 'mhm' in reply. Wukong scooted in, gently scooping you up in his arms. You were still wrapped in a blanket, but now in a bridal carry as well. "Should we head to bed now?" Wukong asked, and you nodded as you leaned against his chest. With that, Macaque used a shadow portal to give the three of you a quick entrance to the bedroom you shared

Wukong placed you down in the middle, Macaque to your left and the Sage to your right. They cuddled in, wrapping their arms and tails around you to tangle you in their embrace. It was a soothing kind of warm, one that helped you slip even further into sleep. Wukong kissed your cheek and Macaque rubbed your back as you drifted off, both of them bidding you a softly spoken goodnight as they tucked you in

[cursedcatvibes]

SWEET BELIEFS

re2r!zombie leon x survivor reader

word count: 7.2k

summary: Leon turns into a zombie and has to learn to navigate how to live as one, while doing this he comes across you and your group of survivors. What will he do when he eats your now dead boyfriend's brains and falls head over heels in love with you enough to make you become like him?

tags/warnings: 18+ only please. I don’t want any controversy, minors DNI. Smut, Angst? Fluff for a paragraph or two. Descriptions of blood and gore. This could technically be considered a bit of Necrophilia? Implied suicide. Pain kink, Leon kinda takes a few bites out of reader. Slight non-con. Mentions of breeding but it doesn’t happen. AFAB reader, I tried to keep it as gn as possible.

A/N: hii so like i am absolutely awkward when it comes to writing smut to be honest, like it’s a bunch of thoughts that have to go into positions and the dialogue. i’m still a little unsure how to work tumblr and i feel so old. I took very very heavy inspo from warm bodies, one of my personal favorite movies. (I pulled up the script and everything so if you've seen the movie and are like hey.. word for word, bar for bar, YOURE NOT WRONG)

Songs I listened to while writing (just so you can picture some scenes with what songs I was feeling):

Sweet Beliefs - Cyann and Ben

Yamaha - Delta Spirit

Midnight City -M83

Hungry Heart - Bruce Springsteen

happy reading!

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Leon was a determined man; he could do mainly anything he set his mind to if he tried, and he did. He would do everything in his power possible to stop the spread of this virus, well, he tried anyway. He knew that he couldn’t do much to begin with, but he always had a small sliver of hope that he could. Stupidly he braved his way forward after the car exploded, promising Claire to meet at the police station. How naive. Is the two words he uses as he thinks back to that same day.

He held his Matilda gun in both hands as he made his way towards the front gate of the R.P.D. He grunted audibly as he shut the gate and then proceeded to lock it. He turned around to face the front of the building in partial awe, a bitter expression souring his face. This is where he was meant to work, to protect and serve the people and yet he never got a chance to properly even start to accomplish that task. 

With a heavy sigh Leon stepped into the building and looked around the main lobby, taking note of the shudder to his right that had a large warning with blood splattered on the floor, he grimaced and walked up to the small computer on the front desk, watching the cameras to see some guy flailing around a small notebook with the promise of a way out inside of it. 

Leon typed away on the computer to find out which room the guy was in and felt his heart sink a bit when he realized it was being blocked off by that same shudder he had saw earlier which was definitely not ideal but if he wanted to help get a cure he had to first escape with as many survivors as possible, so he inhaled sharply and opened the shudder by a lever with shaky hands, his grip on his gun tightening.

The shudder only opened enough for him to crawl under, so he pulled his flashlight out and crawled under while shining the light around, biting his bottom lip anxiously as he stood up from the floor and made his way to the room where the guy was, which unfortunately was behind another shudder. 

Leon holstered his gun quickly and manually forced the shudder open enough to pull the other officer out from, but unfortunately he was too late because the zombies had caught up to the guy on the other side and all the pulling from both ends along with the pressure of the shudder on the guys pelvic area ended up splitting him into two, leaving Leon with the upper half and the zombie with the delicious bottom half. 

He immediately felt sick, just staring at the blood and organs leaking out from the guy's poor body. Yet he forced himself to look away once he grabbed the small notebook from the guy's dead hand. He gasped softly when he saw that he needed to collect three medallions from different statutes and put them into the main statue in the lobby to unlock a secret path. 

Leon quickly pocketed the notebook and stood up, silently disappointed in himself for not saving the guy and making a quiet promise he would find a cure and try to save everyone else. He turned towards the door he entered, only for the door to swing open and a zombie to come barreling through, without hesitation Leon shot the zombie in the head and darted off, his main goal? Get back to the damn shudder that led him to this damn area in the first place.

As he ran, he bumped into two zombies, he panicked and shot one in the head and kicked the other one in the stomach to stagger back enough to fall on the floor. Leon heard a window break and started running towards the shudder, he could see the main lobby light peeking out from beneath the small sliver.

He got down on his hands and knees and started to force the shudder open, fear and adrenaline pumping through his veins. Yet he couldn’t get it open much with just his hands so he pushed his upper body through it and placed his palms flat on the floor, forcing it open enough with his back, almost crying with relief as he crawled through.

That relief was short lived as his leg was grabbed from the earlier zombie and before Leon could try and either shoot it or attempt to squirm away he felt this horrible pain shoot through his leg. A loud scream erupting from his lungs, he scrambled for his gun and shot the zombie, standing up quickly to force the shudder shut. He whimpered in pain as he limped over to the medical beds in the main lobby. 

He could see the blood seeping through his pant leg and when he rolled the fabric up, he almost vomited at the sight of his flesh missing. Apparently while he was crawling and squirming it caused his pant leg to bunch up a bit to expose skin and a bit of his pants fabric was missing from where he was bit. All the hopes of saving everyone and being the help people needed went down the drain. He’d seen enough zombie movies to know he was going to turn within a few hours and this whole thing was pointless and stupid. 

He glanced down at his gun, breathing heavily as he brought it up to his temple. “I won’t become those... Things.” He whispered to no one but himself, tears welling up in his eyes, but he was too chicken shit to kill himself. He burst out into tears and laid back onto the bed, sniffling softly to himself. He failed. For the first time in his life, he failed to protect someone. 

That was the last thing he remembered as a human as his eyes got droopy, fluttering shut every once in a while, before finally shutting, taking his last breath. 

When he awoke, he gasped as he rose up, clenching his hand over his heart, taking no note of the fact his heart was no longer beating anymore. He glanced down at his hands and saw they were paler than usual, he figured it must’ve been a nightmare or maybe he was immune. Otherwise, how did he survive a whole zombie bite? 

He got off the bed and grabbed his gun once more he was able to find a sharp object to use to pry open a door, he carefully stalked through the West Office, pulling his lips into a thin line as he tried to be as quiet as possible but when he stepped onto an empty plastic bottle his head shot up towards the two zombies in the room that roused up from their sleep. Leon fumbled for his gun getting ready to shoot because he was not about to be bitten or eaten alive, only for the zombie sleeping at the police desk to shush him. “Sleeping... Shush.” The zombie grumbled tiredly before going back to sleep. 

Leon’s jaw dropped in awe, why hadn’t they attacked? Why could he understand them now?! All the scenarios ran through his head at once and he could only land on one possible one. With a panicked look on his face, he rushed out and sprinted up to the second-floor bathroom, the zombies lingering in the hallway ignoring him, grunting and groaning out broken English to each other. 

He threw the bathroom door open and walked towards the mirror, finally looking at himself. It finally made sense to him now. It only took one look at himself to clearly see that he too was now a zombie, a hideous creature like the rest of them. Yet he didn’t look busted and beaten up, all his facial features were still intact and none of his skin started rotting, although some joints of his were stiff, assuming the rigor mortis set in for him if he were to be an actual dead corpse, but he wasn't. 

His reality came crashing down on himself and he couldn’t even cry, dead things don’t have emotions anymore.

-

Upon watching the news for a few days, months, years? He wasn’t sure anymore, everyday blended into one and after a while he stopped caring, he was dead now. He made a few zombie friends, those…people? Helped him adjust to the new life he was forced into fairly quickly. Almost like a family, every zombie was family, it didn't matter if you weren’t related or what you looked like, if you were a walking corpse you qualified as family. 

But if you were human, you were considered bad, an enemy, a meal. He learned that humans managed to build a wall to keep zombies out while they tried to start civilization anew, hoping to repopulate. Though some rebellious teens often snuck out beyond the walls and became a meal or turned into a zombie, or people ransacked through old buildings in hopes of coming across supplies, fortunately for zombies they could sense humans by smell from miles away, just most were lazy and didn’t want to die a whole second time for a worthless meal, unless the humans were in groups. 

Just like your group.

Out ransacking a place for medicine for some members of your community that fell ill and just extra medicine just in general. Leon was rather hungry as he walked with his usual horde of zombies towards the building you and your friends were in. He was quite happy because it smelled delicious. (Having grown accustomed to eating humans at this point.)

It didn’t take long for the horde to break down the door to the room you were in before they started attacking, gun fire ringing through the air, yet if it wasn’t a headshot, it didn’t matter much. Leon made eye contact with you when a zombie in front of him got shot in the head. Once he locked his eyes with you, he was smitten, he hadn’t felt like this since the day he arrived in the city. He felt… determined. He was absolutely fascinated with you enough to spare your life from being taken by him, he watched your beautiful eyes widen before sliding away behind a counter to hide. 

The moment was short lived as some annoying guy shot him, Leon growled and pounced on the guy, ripping him to shreds within seconds, eating the yummy brains he got through hard work, blood all over his mouth, hands, and clothes. As he chewed on some of the guys' brains, he indulged in the memories he got from them, for some reason if you consumed the brains of a human you get to see, experience, and feel all their past memories stored in that part of the brain.

Yet as he silently ate the brain’s he started seeing you in this guys’ memories, your sweet laugh, the soft and tender kisses between you both, even when you guys had sex. Leon’s eyes snapped open at the last part, gasping softly at the stirring in his loins. It wasn’t strong, no. But it was very faint, and for a moment he felt human again. 

It didn’t take a miracle for Leon to figure out he ate your boyfriend, he gulped down the brains in his mouth and pocketed the rest, all while chaos ensued around him, people dying, gunfire, stabbing, crying, shouting. None of it mattered. He could feel the amount of love your boyfriend had for your coursing through his veins as he crawled over to you. 

He saw the look of horror on your face as he spotted you, slowly crawling over to you because your gun had jammed, and you ran out of stuff to defend yourself with. He sat right in front of you and watched as you leaned back with a scared and disgusted look on your face. He frowned slightly and leaned closer, placing his bloodied hand on your cheek, making sure to smear you in your now dead boyfriend's blood.

In a hoarse and cracked voice Leon then spoke up. “S-Safe... Now.” He stuttered out, it had been a while since he had to use that word that he almost forgot it. He wanted to keep you safe, he now claimed you. It didn’t take long for the other zombies to grab the brains and other pieces of human body parts before they got ready to leave, sniffing around to make sure they couldn’t smell any more alive humans. 

He carefully took your hand and placed his bloodied finger over your lips. “Shh... Come.” He muttered softly, it hit him that he hadn’t spoken in full sentences or English in a while now, zombies understood each other by just grunting or groaning, they did speak in broken English sometimes. 

“What?” You whispered in confusion as he helped you up and walked you alongside the pack of zombies. He held onto you tightly with an expressionless face, guiding you along with the group all the way back to the police station, very determined to keep you as his own. He took you to a small space that no one really lingered at. Luckily, he had claimed this space, so no other zombies dared to go back there out of respect for when Leon wanted to be alone. The other zombies didn’t suspect you either, to them; if you smelled like you belonged then they thought you were one of them, plus they’re brainless idiots too, who is gonna know the difference if they don’t have the intelligence to figure it out.

Leon stared at you with uncertainty in his eyes, wondering if it was really the best idea to bring you back here of all places. What he did know was that he was super happy to even have a human in his vicinity, even if well you did attempt to kill him.

“This is... home...” Leon said softly, crouching down in front of you on the floor, trying to figure out how to explain he wasn't going to eat you. He pointed at you and then himself, chomping his teeth a few times. Cringing internally when you looked even more horrified, so he repeated the motion once more. “Not... eat.” He mouthed quietly with a soft expression in his eyes.

“Keep you safe.” He stated firmly, his eyes darting away from your gaze awkwardly. He got up and searched the room for some canned goods he had stored away when he first turned into a zombie. Eating humans disgusted him and he really didn’t wanna try to figure it out, so he tried to eat normal food, but that was never no use. He always spat it out with a disgusted look on his face, it tasted horrible.

He found a large can of fruits, smiling happily as he brought it over to you with a knife. You shakily took both items from his hands, being extremely cautious around him still because you were still unsure. Plus, it’s not like he looked like a model, you were sure that if he wasn’t covered in blood and didn’t have a few pieces of his cheek missing he would be close to a model. 

He was cute in a sense, like a dog almost. But you didn’t trust him, not yet at least. Zombies were the things you were warned about. With a reluctant sigh you stabbed the knife into the top of the can and ended up prying it open. You glanced up at him as you used your fingers as a spoon, catching his eyes dart away nervously. 

You pulled your lips into a thin line before letting out a small chuckle. “I guess you’re not all that bad, Mr. Zombie.” You snorted, watching Leon sit down in front of you. He scratched gently under his chin, a habit he never grew out of even when he was undead. He also learned that if he scratched too hard then his skin would fall off. 

Which is why it looks like a cat scratched the side of his cheek; it would’ve been a cool scar if it healed. But he was dead... So, nothing could scar... Or heal.

“My name...” He murmured, trying to think back on what his name actually was. It had been so long since he actually heard his name or even said his name that he forgot what it was. You on the other hand perked up a little bit. “You have a name?” You asked, sitting up a little straighter. He nodded and tried to think back on it. “L...” He elongated the first letter of his name because that’s the only thing that came to what little mind he had left. 

“Leonard? Lachlan? Landon? Leroy? Lawrence?” You started listing off different names that started with an L that came to mind, hoping one would stick but he just kind of shook his head before blinking a few times. “Familiar.” He narrowed his eyes before shaking his head, he almost had it but just as soon as he thought he did he lost his train of thought.

You sighed and ran your clean-Ish hand through your hair, eyes roaming over his body before you saw what looked to be an imprint of a wallet in his pocket. Your eyes widened slightly, and Leon noticed your gaze at his pants. He got excited for a moment, thinking you were checking him out or trying to look at his dick. He would gladly show you if you wanted!

He watched with excitement as you moved your hand out to his crotch area, he wasn’t sure if he was prepared! What if you didn’t like what you saw? Could he even have sex? So many questions racked his brain, each making him more excited than the last. Until... Your hand swerved to the left of his pants, aiming for his pocket as you tapped the stiff object. His face dropped in disappointment, but what was he thinking? Why would you even want to think about such an ugly hideous monster in such an intimate way? “Can I?” You nudged your head towards his pocket, and he nodded in slight defeat. 

You took out the wallet and flipped it open, looking at his ID. If you thought he was partially cute before, he was definitely cute now. You had to hide the blush that was threatening to sprout on your cheeks, quickly shaking it off. You redirected your attention where it was supposed to be aimed at. His name. 

“Huh. Leon Scott Kennedy.” You murmured aloud, watching Leon perk up with excitement as his name came back to his brain. “Yes! My name...Leon!” He pointed at himself happily again. He nodded and gently took the wallet from your hands. 

His eyes settled on the ID photo, and he felt a small wave of sadness wash over him, it wasn’t even his fault he turned but he supposed he turned in the least painful way possible, the most unscathed too. Some people had their limbs pulled off their body and some people had been halfway eaten alive because the damn zombie wanted their organs and not the brain. 

Yet he felt this was the closest he had come to crying ever since he turned into a zombie. He had tried everything he could do in his power to cry, and none of it worked at all. It mostly just damped his mood.

But even now he could not get that tear he so desperately wanted to fall from his eye. He shut his wallet and stuffed it into his pants pocket again, looking away from you awkwardly. He was going to say something until he watched you look out the window with your own longing look.

He wanted to comfort you but didn’t know how, plus he definitely didn’t want to be called or considered creepy. So, he turned around and pulled out some of the stashed away brains in his jacket pocket, he popped a big piece into his mouth like it was gum. He was able to divulge in a few new memories that your boyfriend had.

His eyebrows scrunched up as he could see your dad happily welcoming your boyfriend into the family, having a serious conversation while also celebrating your dead mom's anniversary. Then the memory faded out until he came back to reality because you had started talking to him. 

“I want to go home, Leon.” You stated firmly, your gaze still peering out the window for a bit longer before turning around to stare at him. “It’s n-not safe...” He warned you once more that going outside was not a good idea at all and you were stubborn and set on leaving. 

You sighed rather heavily and rubbed your face as you tried to figure how to explain it to him because he was quite literally not the brightest tool in the shed, and it wasn’t even on purpose either. “I get that.” You paused before continuing. “And look… I know that you ‘saved’ my life. And I'm grateful for that. But you walked me into this place. So, I know that you can walk me out again.” You narrowed your eyes at him as you waited for his response, you had a solid argument through and through. Leon knew that but didn’t want to let you go.

His poor brain scrambled for an answer, he didn’t wanna lose you. “H…h… have to wait. They… They’ll notice.” He blurted out as best as he could manage. You weren’t the happiest person on the planet with that answer, but it was better than staying with him permanently. 

“How long?” You questioned, sitting down in front of him as he kept his eyes trained on you. “F.. f.. few days. Th.. they’ll forget. You’ll be o-kay.” Leon tried to reassure you and he sounded quite serious about this. 

You nodded with a firm tight-lipped expression. “Fine. A few days it is then.” You responded quite tiredly. Leon was a bit eager that you bought into his lie, why wouldn’t you? No one else could sway you to believe otherwise since he was a zombie and you believed he knew everything about every zombie in this post-apocalyptic world. 

The next few days consisted of the both of you doing fun things to relieve your boredom, he showed you his fun little trinkets and items he collected during his time as a zombie just so he could feel a little human again and you in turn showed him the fun things humans still did that he forgot about.

But all good things must come to an end when he got distracted roaming around outside the safe place, he took you to find some more food and perhaps a better blanket, it was a big police station, something had to be there. But when he arrived back a while later with the objects, he was shocked to find you missing when he deliberately only went out while you were napping or sleeping so he didn’t have to stress about you running away.

He pursed his lips into a pout before he heard you scream, he immediately dropped the stuff in his hands and rushed off towards the direction of the scream, finding you surrounded by zombies. He panicked and grabbed a fire extinguisher, whacking the other zombies in the head in order to protect you while you stepped out the way to avoid being attacked or injured in some way possible. 

When he was sure he killed the other zombies, he dropped the fire extinguisher and huffed softly, wiping the blood away from his face and hands onto his already bloody clothes. Leon snapped his head up towards your direction with a frown on his face. “You said a few days. It's been a few days, Leon.” You demanded answers, you were feeling restless after all. “I have to go home; I have a family. A family that's on the other side of that giant wall that keeps creatures like you out of it.” You tried your best to explain it to him, but he didn’t want to hear the nonsense. He wanted you.

He took your hand in his own cold and stiff one, tilting his head at you fondly. “S... stay t-together.” He smiled as best as he could manage while guiding you to the parking garage. “We leave.” He tapped his wallet again and then took you over to a hoodless red car that had the keys still in the ignition.

Leon wanted to drive but he wasn’t very sure in his abilities and as if you read his mind you spoke up. “I'll drive.” You exclaimed cheerfully, hopping into the driver’s seat while he got into the passengers. He took the parking garage keycard out from his wallet that he often used to go out and explore carefree and handed it to you, which you gladly accepted. 

-

It had been a few hours since you and Leon left the police station, a clear destination in mind for you. That same wall you referenced earlier. You could’ve gotten there before midnight, but it had started raining and the heater in the car crapped out. “Dammit it, I’m freezing...” You grumbled in slight frustration, but Leon wasn’t cold at all. Corpses don’t get cold, which is an added bonus sometimes.

You glanced around and realized you were in a neighborhood close to home, well not super close but close enough to finish driving the rest of the way there.

“Full disclosure, I am exhausted beyond, and I want to warm up before I catch hypothermia. I’m not a corpse you know.” You teased, smiling a bit as you informed Leon of what was about to happen. He nodded and gave you a thumbs up.

You were still a little uneasy around him, but he was growing on you. You pulled over into a random driveway and hopped out the car, shivering as the cold wind paired with the rain blew harshly against your skin. Leon followed right behind you, albeit a bit slow but he still followed along.

As you approached the door you silently hoped it was unlocked, because who the hell would lock their door after being evacuated in a zombie apocalypse? 

Unfortunately, it was locked, and you seriously considered busting the door down, you took a step back but stayed beneath the awning of the front porch, rubbing your hands up and down your upper arms to warm yourself while searching for a window that wasn’t boarded up to break into.

Leon on the other hand was confused why you didn’t just open the door considering he got there a little after you did. “What's... wrong?” He questioned, staring at you with his usual cute look of curiosity.

Your eyes darted back towards his own and you purse your lips tightly as you explained that the door was locked. “It’s locked, I can’t get in it and I’m searching for a window-” Before you could even finish your sentence Leon slammed into the front door and it swung open. You were stunned. Could he always do that? If so, why hadn’t zombies come in bigger hordes to storm the wall keeping the rest of humanity alive.

Leon turned towards you when he opened (broke) the door for the two of you, but mainly you. It’s like he was expecting some praise for helping you out. He was a good zombie after all! 

With a small smile on your face, you patted his head. “Thanks Lee.” You crooned, the nickname easily slipping past your lips as both of you sauntered inside the house while Leon closed the door behind the both of you once inside.

You desperately rubbed your hands together for a shred of warmth, Leon took note of this and frowned. He wanted to help you warm up but how? His brain (what was left due to deterioration) searched for an answer and came up with one possibility but didn’t know if you were going to want to do that. After all, he was let down earlier with the whole wallet situation.

“Let’s go upstairs, I’m dying to get out of these clothes and under a blanket.” You emphasized your point by tugging on your soaked shirt. Leon being Leon let his eyes roam over your body, admiring the way it clung to your skin before noticing you were walking away towards the stairs. “O-Okay.” He murmured, tailing after you like a puppy.

Once you reached upstairs you asked Leon to make sure no other zombies were in any of the rooms, you survived this far. No way in hell were you going to die in such a pathetic way. It's the first rule of the apocalypse, be cautious and also know your route to escape if you do encounter a zombie. You can thank Zombieland for that warning, it did amuse you in some odd way.

Watching some guy who was surviving a zombie apocalypse thinking it would never happen but never say never. It felt like some sick joke that sometimes didn’t feel real until you encountered a zombie, then it felt a little too real.

Speaking of zombies, here comes the cutie who waddled back with a shake of his head. “No zombie!” He exclaimed, pointing to a room at the end of the hall. "Bed.” He said simply, putting his hand on your lower back to guide you inside the room. You didn’t protest it at all, hell you would sleep on a rooftop if it provided you with good enough shelter along with a decent bed at this rate.

After a quick check of the mattress to discover it hadn’t rotted much, and a bedsheet was over it so it added a decent layer of protection as well, you sat on the edge of the bed while Leon sat on the floor like usual, wanting to make sure you were comfortable.

“I’m gonna get undressed. Don’t look.” You ordered firmly, hoping he would understand. You smiled when he nodded and turned your back to him while he turned his head away long enough for you to see he did before he turned right back towards you.

Leon wasn’t an idiot; he knew very well what he was doing. He was once human too after all, plus he would feel stupid if he let this rare moment slip away from his grasp, it had been too long since he saw actual decent tits and ass, most of the other zombies who were women were all rotting and very unappealing to him. He’s sure you would look so beautiful if you looked like him. 

You on the other hand were completely oblivious to Leon’s plan or the fact he was ogling you like you were his next most delicious meal, and in a way... You kind of were. 

Nonetheless you stripped down to just a bra and panties before curling back into the bed and under the blanket, shivering quietly while hugging your legs for warmth still. It was so silent between the both of you. So silent you could hear your teeth chattering echo throughout the room.

Leon sat on the floor awkwardly, wondering what to do with his newfound feelings. You never banished him from the bed, nor were you shying away from him when he touched you recently. Maybe this time he could get what he wanted from you, right? He would have to eventually.

A very confident Leon rose up from the floor, you watching with furrowed brows in confusion. Was he going to leave the room? But to your surprise he curled up in bed with you, his cold dead hands sliding around your waist to cuddle you from behind, you instantly stiffened up from multiple things, the fact he was cold, and his hands were resting on your belly and the fact he was so close to you like this. But after a few moments you relaxed and leaned back into his touch.

Leon felt like he was over the moon when you reacted positively at his touch, he could smell your scent, your musk and if he had a consistent blood flow, he was sure it would’ve all rushed down to his penis. Luckily for him he could make his body stiffen up in places or even all over in general. Lord knows how many times he escaped second death by doing this neat party trick when humans tried killing the groups of zombies he was in. He never left unscathed though and caught a bullet in his shoulder once. But it never bothered him because he didn’t feel it. It did piss him off though. 

He was so tempted to take a small bite of your sweet supple flesh; he had been suppressing his desires for so long now it was becoming unbearable. “Such a temptress...” He thought to himself, rubbing his hand up and down your waist gently, easing you up to his touch in small doses. 

You were feeling pretty sleepy but a part of you was getting a little turned on, you hadn’t had sex in a while even while your boyfriend was alive so any touch from a male was enough to set you off, even if unfortunately, that male was a zombie. But it was different somehow, he was gentle. Plus, he was cute so that definitely didn’t hurt either.

You guess the only plus of the whole situation was the fact Leon wasn’t breathing super loud in your ear like a fat pig. That’s what your now dead ex(?) boyfriend did, and it was a major turn off because it sounded like he was dying every time he was moaning or even came. 

Not a word was spoken between the two of you as Leon’s hand drifted lower to cup your inner thigh, the two of you looking down at his hand on your body. He whimpered softly at the warmth between your thighs. “M-May I?” He pleaded; he can’t remember the last time he was this nervous. Oh wait, yes he can. The first time he met you and a few hours earlier when you pulled that little stunt of disappearing on him. He thought he lost you forever. 

Not this time. 

Not ever again. 

You gulped quietly and looked over your shoulder at him nodding slightly, breathing out a soft yes. 

Leon was happy, he felt a warmth within himself in his chest area, well maybe if he had a beating heart it would feel way better, but he can’t get greedy now. Not after he worked this hard to get to this moment.

It had been a while since he had sex, things with his ex-girlfriend weren’t so great before he came to Raccoon city. He silently apologized if he was a bit rusty. Though as soon as his hand slipped beneath your panties, and he heard your soft gasp when his fingertip brushed against your clit it's like all his knowledge on how to please a woman came back to him.

He tightened his grip on your waist with one hand while the other dipped down to collect the slick leaking from your hole, using it as lubricant to swipe at your clit as best as he could, hoping to pleasure you. He figured he was doing a good job when you pressed your face into the pillow to muffle a moan.

That wouldn’t do at all!

Leon removed his hands from you and sat up, pouting a bit as his ego inflated from the soft whine of confusion left you. “I wanna..” He paused and looked down into your eyes. “So pretty...” He thought to himself. 

“Sound.” He pointed at your mouth; it took a second for it to click but once it did you nodded. “Right, yes. Sorry.” You blushed at his comment, for a zombie he seemed sure of exactly what he wanted. Even if he wasn’t good at it verbally.

Leon smiled and climbed on top of you, running his knuckle against your cheekbone with a delighted expression. You nuzzled against the gesture, a small part of you was calling yourself a freak for even enjoying this and the bigger part was you telling that other part to shut the fuck up.

Your hands came up to cup his face, being mindful of the piece of flesh missing from his cheek, he appreciated the gesture, but he couldn’t care less if you touched the wound. He rested his weight on his forearms to grind his cock against the wet spot on the gusset of your panties. A soft moan left your lips and if you weren’t so scared of getting bit you would’ve kissed him, but you didn’t want to tease him and him end up biting you.

You were so eager and desperate though that you yourself disregarded foreplay because you were definitely wet enough. You helped Leon strip down to nothing, admiring his toned body, ghosting your fingertip over the bullet wound too. He was embarrassed and shied away from your wandering eyes.

“You’re so handsome, Leon.” You confessed, watching his eyes go wide with his head snapping back towards you with a hint of vulnerability beneath them. “Really?” He tilted his head at you while you discarded your bra and panties somewhere in the room. 

When you met his eyes, you leaned forward to kiss his cheek, nodding while dragging your fingers through his soft but slightly matted hair, trying to ignore the fact you might’ve tugged a bit too hard that some strands actually fell out. It was just another reminder that you were literally about to have sex with a whole zombie.

Leon cleared his throat as best as he could while positioning himself between your legs to rub his cockhead between your folds. Low moans escaped both of you before he slowly pushed himself past the tight muscle that relaxed with ease. Leon swore he was in heaven, that he died for a second time and that heaven was you.

So warm and wet. Is literally all he could think of.

You on the other hand couldn’t get over how good it was, but that lingering guilt still bubbled at the back of your mind. You shoved those thoughts down and wrapped your arms behind his neck tugging him closer towards your body.

Slowly he started to thrust into you, he tried to be gentle, but each thrust was hard and rough. Punched out gasps and moans filling the room each time his hips met yours. “D-Do you like...?” He asked quietly, burying his face into your neck, holding his desire to bite you at bay. He had to remind himself it wasn’t a good moment. But seeing your bouncing tits and flesh so close to his face was his breaking point.

“Y-yes... I love it–AHH!” You screamed at the end of your remark, feeling tears well up in your eyes at the pain of being bit. 

Leon cursed himself for doing it, but he could only hold his primal desires at bay for so long. “What the fuck did you do! G-Get off of me!” You shrieked, trying to fight away from his grasp but he was much stronger than you. Immediately pinning your wrists down to the mattress with one hand, shaking his head as he continued pounding into you.

“I'm s-sorry!” He apologized profusely but his hips never slowed down. “Accident...” He whimpered coyly as you kept struggling. 

You felt like an idiot, who in their right mind would trust a zombie after all? You. You did and now you were reaping the consequences. 

As much as you hated to admit it, the blood loss and the blood around Leon’s mouth was making you dizzy with pleasure. It didn’t take long for your struggling to cease; you knew you would ‘die’ from blood loss but the adrenaline in your body was fighting while blood gushed out from the bite on your neck.

Leon let go of your wrists shakily to test if you would harm him but when you didn’t and you just laid there looking up at him with a hazy look in your eyes, he felt like he was on top of the world. In one swift movement he put your ankles over his shoulders, putting you into a mating press damn near with how feral he was fucking you.

The lewd squelching sound of your pussy was enough to send him over the edge, but he can’t cum, he lost that ability the day he died. He was upset he didn’t meet you earlier, he’s so sure that you would look so perfect with his child in your belly.

“You’re going to be just like me...” Leon hummed, concern brewing in your belly when he started getting easier to understand. Was this really it? You weakly protested against the idea when his thumb pressed against your clit to get you to have one final orgasm. 

He tilted his head to the side to lick up your calf all the way up to your ankle, suckling on the area he wanted to bite. Without much thought he sank his teeth in your leg, right where he was bit. What was more romantic than having matching bite marks?

You jolted from the pain mixed with pleasure, weakly crying out Leon’s name. “L-Leon... Stop it...” You pawed at his back as your back arched off the bed, feeling the life slowly draining out your body the faster your heart pumped out blood from such a stimulating touch, your body temperature lowering to almost eerily match his own.

He could feel your gummy walls squeezing the non-existent life out his cock and he threw his head back in pleasure, groaning loudly as he doubled down on his efforts, he could tell you were close. 

He wasn’t wrong though, you were so close to reaching your sweet release, the bedsheet and mattress soaked with your bodily fluids. Blood and your arousal forever staining the sheets. “P-Please my Goddess...” He squeaked out, leaning down to lick at your neck, lapping up the blood oozing out. 

Your body was getting weaker and weaker, eyes fluttering shut longer than they were open as you slowly died beneath him, yet right before you took your last final breaths as a human you came violently around his cock, feeling utterly spent and satisfied as you drifted into an unconscious state.

Leon sat up straight, staring down at your lifeless body with a small amount of concern. He had never turned someone into a zombie before, so he wasn’t sure if he actually killed you or not. He pulled his cock out of your hole, admiring the creamy white ring around the base of it.

He ran his fingertips over the bite mark on your leg, sighing in content, his eyes drifting up your body to admire your glistening folds. He glanced around nervously before leaning down to lap at your cunt, moaning softly at the taste. "Gosh..." He could definitely eat you up.

He whimpered in frustration when you didn't stir awake after a few hours (minutes), placing small kisses on your belly with a pout, wrapping his arms around your waist while he laid on top of you, covering your naked bodies with the blanket. 

He kept your hand outside the blanket, staring intensely at it. 

“Please move. Please move.” He thought anxiously, finally after what felt like eternity, he saw your fingers twitch and he felt relieved. He smiled fondly at the sight, kissing your sternum with a dopey grin.

You were going to be with him for eternity. <3

[unreliablesnake]

You're reading what? (Ghost x reader x 141)

Summary: Soap finds out you're reading porn in your free time. Ghost decides to ask you about it.

Note: Barracks bunny, barracks bunny, barracks bunny! Sorry, reader's a slut. (affectionate) / I'll probably write more parts, maybe smut, maybe suggestive stuff, maybe fluff... I don't know yet. Check the #barracks bunny fics tag for more. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.

It was Soap who found out what you were reading in your limited free time during missions. You left your Kindle on the table while you went to the bathroom, and he wanted to see what book you were so invested in lately. When he read the first two paragraphs, his jaw dropped and a wide grin crept on his face.

"Hey, LT, you won't believe what she's reading," he said while he checked the title of the book just to know what to check later.

Ghost rolled his eyes, completely uninterested at the moment. He was busy writing a report that was due by the end of the day, and he had promised Price that he would do it on time. So he didn't have time to think about what stupid novel you were currently reading.

But Soap didn't give up. He put the device back where it was before, then took the chair next to the lieutenant. "It's porn. I'm not joking, she's reading porn," he said excitedly, keeping his voice down as he spoke.

With mixture of disapproval and interest in his eyes, he turned to the sergeant and asked, "And?"

"What do you mean? She's reading porn. No wonder she dodges every question regarding the books she's reading all the time," he replied before he typed something into his phone. "Here, this is the one she's currently reading."

Ghost took the device from him and tapped on the first search result. He read the summary, then moved on to some quotes the users highlighted. It was interesting to say the least. Were you really into this type of stuff?

When they heard your voice from the hallway, Soap took back his phone and closed the browser before you entered the room again. To you it probably seemed like they were talking about the mission and the report Ghost was writing, and this is why the lieutenant felt a little bad for this invasion of your privacy.

After being on this mission for so long, he was obviously frustrated. He couldn't just go to a bar to pick up someone, and his hand was less and less satisfying these days. His mind recently began to travel back to you and your book, and one afternoon, when he had some unexpected free time, he found himself buying and downloading that novel on his phone.

He got quite far in a matter of hours, and he couldn't help himself when he found you alone in a room after dinner. Ghost sat down across from you and took the Kindle from your hands to take a look at it. "Still reading porn?" he asked teasingly.

You gulped, your cheeks probably burning from the embarrassment you clearly felt. "H–How do you know about that?" you asked him after a few seconds of awkward silence.

"Soap stole this the other day," he replied as he gave back the device. "Don't worry, I think I'm the only one he told about this. Your secret's safe with me."

"I don't even want to know what you think about me now," you said with your head buried in your hands.

Ghost let out a dry laugh as he peeled your hands off your face. "Hey, it's okay. We spend way too much time here, I think it's safe to say we all need our fix one way or another," he assured you while holding your hand, his fingers absentmindedly drawing circles into your skin.

Maybe he was flirting with you. The more he thought about you and what he had read in that novel, the more he wished he could do that in real life with you. He had always liked you; the disciplined, tough, but also kind soldier that got along with everyone on the team.

And the one Price played favorites with, he reminded himself. They all had their suspicions about the captain's motivation, believing he himself had a crush on you from the start. After all, why else would he bring you small gifts every time you met again? Why would he spend hours talking to you alone?

Sometimes Ghost wondered if there was anything between the two of you. Were you off-limits? Or was it a one-sided thing?

"And what do you do to get your fix?"

Your question brought him back to reality and he instinctively let go of your hand. He couldn't say that he jerked off to the thought of you. No, that would be way too creepy. So he shrugged, hoping this was enough to answer your question.

After a short pause, Ghost folded his hands on the table and leaned a little closer to you. "Have you ever tried anything that you read in your little books?" he asked you with a grin under the mask.

With your head tilted to the side, you watched him in silence for a while as you thought about your answer. "Do you even know what's in them exactly?"

"I began to read one of them. The one that reminded me of the Fifty Shades of Grey stories, only in a hardcore version," he replied casually.

An amused hum left your lips. "How do you even know what those stories are about? You don't seem to be the type who's into them."

Of course, Ghost had an answer to that. "I had an ex who made me watch the whole series. I didn't like it. Back to my question, have you tried anything from that book for example?"

"I have," you replied immediately, shamelessly grinning as you watched him.

It was hard to surprise Ghost these days, but hearing you answering so honestly definitely took him off guard. "The whole power play thing?" You nodded without hesitation as you took a sip of your soda. "With who?"

"Does it matter?"

"No, it doesn't," he admitted, knowing full well he probably wouldn't know that person anyway.

The pair of you sat there in silence for a while, your eyes locking every now and then before you flashed a smile at him then dived back into your book. He didn't mind, instead of complaining he just leaned back in the chair and watched you.

Ghost hated feeling this way, he hated that he could do nothing but wish for a cold shower in your presence. If he stood up now, you would surely notice how excited he was to be near you. He wanted to play with you too, he wanted to find out what you had learned from those books of yours.

Gaz walked into the room with a stupid smile on his face then put his hands on your shoulders as he leaned closer. "Price wants to see you," he announced before suddenly taking the ebook reader from you and taking a look at the page you were at. "Ooooh, another one? Do you even read anything else?"

Biting on your lower lip, you exhaled through your nose angrily. "I'm gonna kill Soap. I swear to God I'm gonna shoot him before we go home," you told them before snatching your Kindle from Gaz's hands and heading towards the door.

But on the way there you stopped behind Ghost and leaned down to his ear. He could feel your hot breath on his skin which made his cock twitch in his pants. Fuck, what were you doing to him?

"By the way, if you want to know more about what I want to try from those books, just say it. I'm sure we could arrange that," you added as your hand squeezed his shoulder.

Before he could say anything, you left the room, leaving him alone with Gaz. "Oh, you haven't figured it out yet," the sergeant said with a laugh.

"Figured out what?" Ghost asked, completely dumbfounded.

But Gaz only shrugged. "She's fun to be around. That's all I'm saying."

And with that, he left too. The lieutenant had absolutely no idea what to think. There were you, probably suggesting sleeping with him one day, and there was Gaz with his mysterious comment about you. As he let out a groan, he let his forehead hit the table with a loud thud. Why couldn't things be simple?

[mbbmz]

Hiii may i request baji confessing to reader in the most baji way🤣 like grumpy and blunt but affectionate as well

Omg i got you love, hope you’ll like it even if it’s a bit short! 💕💕

Confession (Baji x reader)

All fluff and crack

You were watching the boy in front of you, a confused expression on your face. You recognized your classmate, whom you often helped with homework. You were used to see him with his black hair in a ponytail and a pair of obnoxious glasses on his nose. Seeing his long black riding his shoulders made your heart jump a little. He wasn’t even looking at you, finding interest in a tree nearby.

Your eyes trailed down on the object he was holding. An envelope? What could it be? Surely it wasn’t what you thought… right? He was always a little… hot headed, could it be possible?..

Your hands shakily reached for the envelope, there was even a little heart sticker sealing it. Wasn’t this a bit… cliché? Well, it was cute, in a way…

The content was… interesting to say the least. The thirty seconds you should’ve taken to read the two paragraphs turned into minutes.

- What… is that?.. You asked hesitantly, just wanting to make sure you weren’t imagining things.

- Dont you know how to read?

You scowled. "Don’t you know how to write?!", the words were on the tip of your tongue.

- I… I dont understand a thing.

He looked at you for the first time, before he frowned, snatching the letter from your hands.

- "Dammit… I shouldn’t have listened to him…" You heard him curse, a confused expression on your face.

- What I meant was… Go out with me.

You looked at him in silence, eyes widening. The school’s delinquent, asking you out? Sure, you helped him out often but… you didn’t think he would think of you that way.

- "… Please."

He added, looking away once again. You laughed a bit, finding it humorous how a simple "please" was so complicated to say for him. Yet, you were grateful. And happy.

- "I… I’d like to." You finally answered, after a few seconds of silence. He looked back at you, a somewhat surprised expression on his face. But it quickly morphed into a smile as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

- Good answer. Come on, I’m taking you home.

You walked a bit together, but after a few minutes, you got curious.

- "What’s with the letter anyways? I wouldn’t have took you for the type…"

- "Forget about that damn letter, it was a shitty idea…"

[temptaetions]

cinnamon sugar 🌙 k.sm (m)

a/n: the photo above is from seungmin's instagram. i don't own the media, but i sure was blessed to see it. anyway, i think this is my first post with like...actual smut in it. please forgive me, because it is so shitty, i'm so bad at writing it. anyway, uhm, enjoy! my anon ask is now on, if you'd like to send any requests in!

synopsis: her lips taste sweet, like cinnamon sugar...she's such a treat.

genre: best friends to lovers | idiots in love | x fem!reader | smut | fluff | angst

pairing(s): best friend!kim seungmin x virgin!reader

word count: 6k. lowercase intended.

rating: 18+. minors do not fucking interact.

warning(s): swearing, mutual pining, a lot of emotional turmoil from both parties, horribly written smut [between k.sm x reader: unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!!!), creampie, soft d/s themes, (slight) overuse of pet names (angel, sweetheart) oral (f. receiving), paragraphs of praise, so much kissing, some grinding, the lightest amount of nipple play. riding/missionary, crying during sex, multiple orgasms, reader begs a lot, they stare into each others eyes and hold hands while fucking oh my god]. this is slightly self indulgent but the guilt i feel after writing it, and so badly at that, is overwhelming.

what to listen to: gaze - sweetback | eat it - megan thee stallion | agora hills - doja cat | real love - mary j. blige | whatta man - salt-n-pepa & en vogue

message from: seungmin🧸🤎

[7:32pm] i’m coming to pick u up, i want a cinnabon.

message to: seungmin🧸🤎

[7:33pm] ur paying 🤑

"can i get aux?" you say as you slide into seungmin's car. the leather of the passenger seat was cool to the touch, a sign that nobody had sat in your self-assigned seat. "hello to you too, best friend. how was my day? oh, it was lovely! it's so nice to see you, too!" "oh, shut up, min. you don't give a shit if i ask those questions or not." you chuckle, snatching his aux cable out of the center console. "you know me so well, fuck. i hate small talk. just merge souls with me." you and seungmin had been best friends for over ten years. he knew you inside and out - from your scalp to the bottom of your feet (including the scar from his razor scooter slamming into your ankle at age sixteen.)

you shared a lot of interests, but none as intense as your love of music and cinnamon rolls. he was always at your dance recitals. your biggest fan, really. he cheered, but never showed you more praise than necessary.

"i need you to stay humble, it helps me tolerate you." he murmured into your hair after one recital last year. you just shook your head in amusement, holding it high as you let him march you to his car for dinner.

"oh, i updated our playlist! i have a few new things on here." you said excitedly as you scrolled through the playlists on your homepage. you shared this love language – you had dozens of collaborative playlists with user ksm922, and you giggled at the ugly photos of the two of you he often used for the covers.

"sure." he shrugs, using his pinky to turn the volume dial up. your eyes trail on his slender fingers as they return to the wheel, but you shake it off just as quickly. pressing play, you let the smooth r&b sounds fill the car.

"oh, this is nice. what is this?" seungmin nods his head along to it, and you glance at the screen. "gaze by sweetback. it played on my sade station, and the vibes are just so kim seungmin, yanno?" you close your eyes and fake being a disc-jockey, his hand coming to pinch your arm lightly, a chuckle playing on his lips. "stop that, you'd be a horrible deejay."

"are you sure this isn't about sex? geez, bub, act like you get some." he teases, and you swat his arm. "i do get some!" "oh yeah? from who?" his eyes are trained on the road as he bullies you about your sex life (or lack thereof), allowing you a moment to stare at his ringed fingers. oh, the way they gripped the wheel, they could so easily grip your neck–

shut up, y/n.

"your mom." you huff, crossing your arms with a pout. you hated this conversation, and you often avoided it with him. yes, seungmin was your best friend, but you never wanted to talk about your sex life with him. he had experiences…and you heard from so many people how good it was.

with him, to be specific.

"what are we, thirteen? you wish my mother would breathe in your direction, you fucking virgin." he scoffs, and you force a snicker out. you glance at your phone, a smirk threatening to escape as it started. "oh, this one is good. turn it up!" he obliged, not even giving the screen a second look.

you settle in your seat as megan thee stallion's voice blares through the speakers, muffling a soft laugh behind your hand. seungmin hated the idea of you being a sexual being, and you often used it to bother him. you liked seeing him get red in the face, and squirm. it doesn't mean you understood it, but it was hilarious.

legs shakin', hit it 'til the bed breaking…bed springing, talk to it…

seungmin's mouth is agape, his cheeks firetruck red…

i don't want just one nut, daddy, i need the whole tree, ah…

…before his nimble fingers press skip. 

"are you serious, y/n? in my christian minecraft server?" his eyes are still fixed on the road, his knuckles turning white from his hold on the steering wheel. weird.

"it's megan! i love her, she's the hot girl coach. you don't want me to be a virgin forever, do you?" you joke, and he scrunches his nose. "since when do you listen to music about getting your…ugh, whatever. don't ever bring up sex appeal, you repulse me." you laugh loudly, your hand going to pinch his cheek softly. "you're so cute when you get flustered, min. here, i'll play pretty boy by the neighbourhood in your honor."

he can't stop thinking about it. it's been four hours since you played the song in the car, and it's still stuck in his head. well, what he did hear.

you, inherently, did not come across as a sexual being. you didn't, and that wasn't seungmin being just a platonic, nice friend – you genuinely did not care to be the core of anyone's sexual desire. you wore oversized shirts and loose jeans, the occasional dress paired with black pantyhose and boots. "gotta hide my ankles, minnie. that's how they getcha." but thinking about you…listening to that song? your hips winding down on some other man like he's seen you do on stage? hell, some other man's face when he's right here?

it made him sick.

and you were so beautifully unaware as you swirled your fork in your cinnamon roll, bringing the tines to your lips and sucking the icing clean off them. not a second lick or adjustment, just straight off. he felt his cheeks heat as his cock twitched in his pants, and he almost missed you waving your fingers in his face. "yo, you good? you seem distracted." you have a bit of icing on your lip, and he subconsciously reaches over to wipe it off. your eyes are wide as he does so, and he doesn't know why he can't move his thumb from your lip. he doesn't know why everything feels like it's moving in slow motion, and he just watches as you instinctively suck your lip between your teeth at the loss of contact.

you're so pretty, fuck, you're so pretty.

"i'm good. do you want to go?" he's surprised to hear his own voice, and you nod absently. he was acting weird, he knew he was, but he feels like there's a fog in his brain that he can't shake. maybe it was the way he'd memorized every curve of your body, from watching your fluid dances. maybe it was the way that you smiled so innocently, you were so innocent. your eyes big and pure, your heart full, your mind…naïve.

he didn't understand the sudden urge to ruin you, but he knew he had to get over it, and fast.

"fuck." he groans, and your head whips around to look at him. "you okay?"

he nods quickly, his hand landing on the small of your back to guide you to the car faster. "min, if you have to shit, you can just say that." "ugh, shut up. you always say the most unhinged shit. no wonder you can't get laid." he rolls his eyes, and you just laugh. "trust me, it's not for lack of opportunity." you let him open the door for you, and you wink at him playfully, his fingers flicking your forehead before shutting the door. it was true, multiple of your friends had offered to…deflower you. hyunjin, on your dance team. minho, on your production team. felix, your choreographer. even their friends in the music department had offered, and you simply smiled, shaking your head at them. "i just like to flirt, your dick is your problem."

but much like seungmin, they had all seen the way you moved. how easily you sunk to your knees, how smooth your gyrations were, the way you looked like you enjoyed it. you felt good knowing people were attracted to you, but it never compared to what you believed was seungmin's innocent gaze.

it was weird to want more from him, and it pained you, slightly. he was cute, your best friend. cute, experienced, and he knew you. he knew you so well, what could go wrong? he could reject you, that's what.

you're in your own head when you realize the car has been moving, and rather fast, at that. "min, seriously. are you shitting your pants?" you roll your eyes, and he brings the car to a screeching halt. "bro, your brakes." you cringe, covering your ears as he pulls into his driveway.

"are you going to kill me? no way, jisung always said i'd go out this way. please, tell my mother i love her and make sure i get the best spot in heaven." you feign terror as you unbuckle your seatbelt, not noticing the way seungmin can't even look at you. you feel how hard he slams his door, and you give his car a pitiful look as you slide out, following him to his apartment. he lived on the first floor, what a privilege.

he doesn't look at you as he walks into the apartment, tossing his keys onto the kitchen table. "y/n, i have a question."

"oh? mr. attitude has a question, does he?" you smile sarcastically, crossing your arms over your chest, the cowhide leather of the letterman you stole from him in high school rough against your skin. "alright, let's hear it." "why are you still a virgin?" okay, not what you were expecting. don't let it fluster you. you don't really notice his hardened expression as you try to answer. "well…it's just not on my list of priorities. i'll get fucked when i get fucked, you know?"

you shrug, not thinking much of your answer as he steps closer. "hm, i don't buy it."

raising an eyebrow, you shake your head, unbuttoning the jacket. "you're acting so weird, seungmin. if you wanna fuck me, just say that."

you sound surprisingly confident, and you can feel your heart pounding in your ears as you slide the jacket off, draping it over the couch. you gather your hair forward, spinning to speak to him again. "did you still want to watch the mov-" you're cut off by his lips pressing against yours, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer. you can't move, your hands frozen as he works you carefully, lips burning against your own. his movements feel desperate, and you let your body take over as you kiss him back, a soft sigh escaping his lips as your tongue slips between them. the kiss is hungry, his hands are digging into you so deeply you're sure you'll bruise. 

he stops. his fingers let go of your hips, and he pulls away, your lips chasing after his as he does. your lip gloss is glittering on his face, before he covers his eyes. "i'm so sorry, y/n. i have no idea what came over me, i…i'm sorry, please, let me take you home."

you can't speak, your mind still swirling with endorphins. your best friend of ten years just made the biggest move on you, and without a word, you managed to fumble it. no way. absolutely not.

"sorry for what? i'm not understanding." you suddenly feel very vulnerable, your skin littering with goosebumps at the sudden change in the air. "i'm perfectly fine with…whatever you were doing."

seungmin peers back at you through dark eyes. "no, y/n. we can't." he swipes his keys off the table, and you huff. "and why can't we, seungmin? what is so bad about kissing me?" his eyes are wide as you ramble, and it's all word vomit. you can't seem to stop it, but he's drinking every word.

"what is it? am i a bad kisser? is it because i'm a virgin? i don't think it's very fair that you can openly admit to being other girls' firsts but you can't even do that for me. you haven't even offered. i'm not saying you fucking have to, because you're my best friend and you always will be. but holy fuck, seungmin, i'm trying to get some. you said i should, so why not be the one i get it from?" 

you're out of breath, and seungmin just shakes his head as he takes one, two steps back in front of you. "you think i don't want to be your first? you think i don't want you all to myself, to ruin you for anyone else? you think i don't want to fuck you stupid, until all you know is my name? are you hearing yourself right now?"

"you're certainly not acting like it. it doesn't have to mean shit, seungmin. it's just sex." you roll your eyes, leaning on the couch. "it's not just sex, y/n. this is a huge step for you, for us. our friendship is on the line, and i don't want to do something you might regret later." you shake your head, and he hates when you get stubborn like this, you won't listen to reason. "still not seeing the issue here. i lose my virginity and gain some experience for the next guy, you get your dick wet. we go to bed, and we act like it didn't happen in the morning. you take me home, we listen to our playlists on the way there, and we go about our days."

he flings his keys onto the floor, his hands reaching to hold your face. he tucks a few strands behind your ears, fingers lovingly caressing your pierced lobes before he looks you dead in the eyes. "y/n, if i give you what you want tonight, there is no chance in hell you're going to fuck someone else."

you stare back at him silently, your eyes darting to his lips before your tongue peeks out to wet your own. it's not the worst thing in the world, being with seungmin. it could be good…and not just the sex. he knows you, you know him…his lips felt like they were made for you. they always had, since your drunken kiss on christmas eve.

"you say that like it's a threat." you challenge, and he bites back a smile, nodding his head. his hand has traveled to your hip, his other still holding your face when his nose touches yours, his breath hitting your lips. "if you want me to stop at any point, just let me know. understand, sweetheart?"

you nod, leaning forward to connect your lips. he pulls back, shaking his head. "i need to hear you say you understand."

"jeez, seungmin, i understand. i get it, can we please move this along?" you're not the least bit embarrassed as you whine against him, and he lets you kiss him. your lips are eager, your hands carding through his hair as he licks into your mouth. the kiss is all teeth and tongue, a soft moan interrupting it as he gives your clothed breast a gentle squeeze, his thumb working over your pebbled nipple. "min, i…" "what, tell me what you want, sweetheart." his lips trail down your jaw, nipping along your exposed neck carefully. your whines are like heaven to him, "n-need you.." "aw, you need me? need me where?" he's loving this, the way you squirm under his lips, under his nimble fingers. you push your chest into him involuntarily, "h-here. please?"

you grab his wrist, a wave of confidence taking over as you guide his hand under the waistband of your sweatpants. his fingers are cool against your clothed heat, a soft wet patch forming on the fabric. his eyes are wide as he instinctively lets his hand run over the spot, watching as you flinch, lip caught between your teeth. he presses hard against you, a gasp falling from your mouth. "i haven't even touched you, and look at how wet you are for me. a little pathetic, hm?" "'m’ yours, minnie. always, always been yours." you don’t mean that, he thinks. he's letting you grind against his hand, his gaze transfixed on your face. your brows furrowed, eyes screwed shut as you used his hand to get yourself to the edge. his cock twitches at the little pants falling from your lips, when he decides he's had enough. you nearly cry at the loss of contact, his hand escaping the confines of your plush thighs. "minnie-" "if you're gonna cum, it's gonna be on my face. let's go, sweetheart." he tugs you towards his bedroom, your legs weak as you try not to stumble behind him. "bed. on your back."

he's pulling his sweater over his head, and you nearly coo at his messy hair in your fucked out state. he feels a flush coat his cheeks as you lay there, waiting for him to tug your pants off. hooking his fingers in your waistband, you lift your hips to make it easier, and he slides your underwear and sweatpants off in one go. you suddenly feel shy, closing your legs. 

"ah, ah. it's just me, sweetheart. do you want to stop?" his hands move to your knees, the cool metal of his rings sending a soft shock to your spine. "no, i'm…okay. i'm just nervous." "it's okay, angel. i got you, don't worry." he presses a kiss to your forehead, nose…lips. he lingers there a bit, but doesn't let it deepen as he runs his hands down your legs. his fingers dig into your thighs, pulling them apart for him to settle between. you're soaking, the heat of his stare making anxiety bubble in your stomach. "fuck, you're going to be the death of me." his lips press soft, chaste kisses along your inner thigh, nipping carefully as you mewl. "minnie, please..i..please…" you end in a whimper, and who is he to deny you when you beg so nicely? he buries his nose in your pussy, bumping your clit as he lets his tongue drag through your folds, collecting your sweet, sweet arousal on his face. your hand flies to his hair as his lips suck on your clit, thighs threatening to close around his head. he doesn't care, he'd die a happy man right there between your legs.

"f-fuck, seungmin, ah! right there, holy f-fuh.." you're shaking around his head, bucking your hips into his face as gently as you can muster. he loves it, but he can't tell you that as he drowns in the scent of you, the obscene sounds of his tongue against you paired with your pretty whimpers ensuring he'd probably cum in his pants. "oh, b-baby i'm gonna.."

his hand reaches for yours, interlacing your trembling fingers with his, his other hand massaging your thigh in encouragement. he can barely bring himself to talk, a soft moan of his against your clit sending you over the edge, a soft cry of his name echoing in the room. "that's it, good job angel. you did so well for me, hm?" he's still lapping at you, not wanting to miss a single shiver or whimper from your body. "s'always that good? min?" he peers up at you from his spot between your legs, your lips parted as you blink, a tear rolling down the side of your face. he moves up to wipe it away, but you take his hand in yours, kissing his palm softly. "you okay? we can stop." he presses his forehead against yours, not able to process your cute gesture without wanting to bawl. you nod, a lazy smile crossing your lips as you reach to kiss him. "m'all good, minnie. do you…want me to help you?"

you can feel his clothed cock pressing against your leg, practically begging to be set free, and you teasingly buck up against it. he inhales sharply, shaking his head, "i want tonight to be about you. i want to make sure you feel good, okay? are you sure you want to continue?" "yeah, m'all yours." you sigh against his lips, a chaste kiss from you to him. "can i take this off, sweetheart?" he yanks lightly on your shirt, and you nod. you help him tug it over your head, your fingers reaching backwards to unclasp your bra. he feels like all the air is sucked out of the room as you lay beneath him, for him, in all your glory. every curve he's imagined just as gorgeous. "you're staring, it's making me shy." your soft voice snaps him out of his thoughts. "no, no, fuck, you're gorgeous. look at you, oh my god, i.." he trails off, his hands resting on your tummy. "you just went down on me, and you're short-circuiting over my tits, kim?" your teasing is not helping his brain, but the attitude brings him back to reality. "you know that's not all it is, stop it." he rolls his eyes, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin. it's soothing, the warmth of your skin radiating against his. he dips his head between your breasts, trailing open mouthed kisses all over your chest and stomach. "you're so beautiful. i'm literally the luckiest person in the entire universe." he's mumbling to himself mostly, but you feel soft tears prick at your eyes. his lips latch around one of your nipples, a gasp from you making him pull off with a pop. "can i…are you sure you want this, y/n? i really, really don't want you to regret this."

you grab his face in your hands, your thumbs lightly padding over his cheeks. "i want you, entirely. in this life, in the next life. okay? i got you, don't worry." you echo his words back to him, and he bites his lip, a hint of something in his eyes as he pulls back to unbuckle his pants. kicking them off quickly, you wait until he straightens to take a peek. 

the rumors were true. he's thick, his tip a soft mauve. your mouth is watering at the sight, when a snap of his fingers catches your attention. "eyes up here, sweetheart. i want you to look at me, can you do that?"

you nod, a shy smile on your lips as he goes to spread your knees again. "no, wait, minnie…" he feels his heart skip a beat at your voice, eyes flickering to yours in concern. "i…can i be on top? i read that…it can be better that way." you swallow thickly, and he feels the tips of ears burn but a smile grazes his features. "you studied for sex?"

any awkwardness is gone. you scoff, a light smack landing on his arm. "forgive me for wanting to be in control."

"you want to be in control? okay. fine, but you won't last long." he shrugs, sliding onto the bed behind you, eyes taking in the curve of your ass before you turn. "lay back, asswipe." "watch the attitude, or i'm shutting this shit down." he says, eyes serious as you feel your cheeks heat. you watch as he gets comfortable on his pillows, and you crawl over to him, your hands brushing against his sides as you straddle him. "we can go as slow as you want, okay?" his words are reassuring as his hands reach for your thighs, and you nod.

you take a deep breath, lightly letting your cunt drag along his length, his tip bumping your clit. you shiver, a buzz going up your legs as he takes your hips in his hands, manually guiding you over his cock. "did you read about this too?"

"shut up." you roll your eyes, his hands holding you in place. he looks…so convincing like this. like everything will go back to normal after this, like everything will be the same. he'll still be your best friend, and you'll still be desperately, hopelessly, stupidly in love with him. it's overwhelming, and you just bite your lip, shaking your head. "you're staring." "your dick is twitching, but i'm not saying shit." scoffing, you take him in your hand gently, lining him up with your aching center. you sink down slowly, the tip barely swiping your entrance when you grimace, a hiss escaping your lips as you screw your eyes shut. "i know, angel. here, let me help you." seungmin pulls you closer, his back against his headboard, careful not to pull out. you watch as his hand snakes between the two of you, his thumb softly circling your clit, your eyes threatening to close. "eyes open." you oblige, feeling a gush of arousal at his command, and you have no room to feel embarrassed when he begins to shallowly fuck into you, matching the pace of his thumb. your eyes are glossy as you move your hands to hold onto the headboard, your chest flush to his face. he kisses your shoulder, your soft whimpers music to his ears. 

"deeper? or stay like this?" he asks, voice shaking slightly, the warmth of your pussy almost staggering. it's humiliating how worked up you have him, but you need to stay humble. it helps him tolerate you. "d-deeper, is okay."

his arms wrap around your waist tightly, slowly pulling you down further, a whine escaping your throat as your hands move to his shoulders, your eyes meeting his. he's trying not to cum from the way your pretty cunt swallowed him so perfectly, taking him so well. made for him, just him. "m'so full, minnie." you clench around him, and it takes all his willpower not to finish. he's not far, he's practically seeing stars…but the way you're looking at him, you're so pretty, so ready to cry over his cock. he needs to drag this out as long as he can.

"y-you can move, if you want. p-please, want to feel you." you're pleading, he knows. he swallows, confidence wavering as he nods, slowly thrusting up into you, the squelch immediately catching his attention, eyes tearing from yours. he watches the way you take him, your body begging to be ruined by him. he moves a little faster, your mind beginning to blur as he falls into a rhythm. 

your nails are digging into his shoulders, your lip caught between your teeth as his hips rock against yours. his eyes flicker back to your face, and you manage a quick wink. he feels his cheeks burn beet red as he looks away. he feels like such a fucking virgin, when he is the one that's your first, not the other way around. pretty girl on his lap and he can't even look at you.

he wishes you had been his first, too, and he wishes you would have asked him sooner. you're so smart, you're so gorgeous, your lips taste like cinnamon sugar. fuck, he loves you. you're his best friend, you feel so good around him and you know him so well. he loves you, so fucking much.

his hips come to a slow, your moan drawing out as he drags his cock against your walls at an agonizing pace. "'still want to be in control, angel?" his lips press to your clavicle, and you nod against his neck. "will you tell me if it's good?"

he pulls you back, hand coming up to caress your face. "how could it not be, when it's you?"

you don't say a word, allowing his lips to meet yours in a chaste kiss. he slumps a bit, and you maneuver so his back is almost flat on the bed, and you try not to moan as the movement makes his cock hit you just right. "whenever you're ready, just use me how you want to." you feel a flutter in your stomach, giving an experimental roll of your hips, your hands flat on his side. raising your hips, your thighs tremble as you start a rhythm, bouncing on him carefully. he's watching you, the way you move so fluidly, like you're dancing. like you're enjoying him, using him, making his brain feel useless. he can't speak, just drinking in this picture of you he's never going to get to see again after tonight, taking in your throaty moans.

"m-minnie?" your eyes are low, your hands moving to his chest, pushing your breasts together. fuck, you are art. "y-yeah?" 

he can't even focus as you whimper, clamping around him like a vice, moving slightly faster. "m'close, i can't..i.." you're still looking at him, and he can't. he can't take it, using his strength to flip you on your back. he interlaces your fingers, pinning your hands above you as he roughly fucks into you, sharp cries falling from your lips.

his head dips, lips dragging along your jaw as he whispers in your ear. "this is where you belong. under me, begging for me. got it?"

you feel chills cover your body as you nod, "y-yes, god, yes." "good girl." he's so unsure of himself, he's so afraid he'll scare off your high but he needs to know. "did you mean what you said earlier?" he's speaking through gritted teeth, his eyes focused on the gloss in your eyes.

"hmm?" your brows furrow, your bitten lips slightly agape as his thrusts become sloppy, and he just shakes his head, opting to kiss you instead. hoping it'll help the knot in his stomach go away, hoping it will help you forget he asked. you can't help but pant into his mouth, feeling him smile against your lips. "you can let go, sweetheart. you did so well for me, yeah? i got you." you don't register how tightly you squeeze his fingers, or how deeply you're kissing him as you feel the white hot sensation rip through you. he's drunk off you, and you can feel him spurting inside you, his cum trickling out of you as his thrusts come to a slow, slow, stop.

but he doesn't, his lips don't. he can't stop kissing you, he doesn't want to talk. he doesn't want to tell you how you made him feel, how he can never see you the same again. he doesn't want to watch you walk out of his apartment tonight and possibly never be able to talk you again. he doesn't want to ever, ever hear about you doing this with some other guy, but he made his bed. 

your thighs are trembling around him, and you tug your fingers out of his grasp, pulling as far away from his mouth as you physically can. he pouts, chasing after them, only stopping when your eyes blink slowly at him.

"you alright?" his voice is soft, almost scared. you nod, swallowing thickly as you look away, tears forming in your eyes. "ah, talk to me, y/n. it's okay." "i meant it. what i said, earlier. i…don't know why i said it, i never planned on saying it. i'm sorry if it's going to make things awkward." you feel a tear escape, your hand quickly pawing it away. "awkward? with you? it’s not possible." he murmurs, and you glance at him, but he's staring at the pillows above your head.

"but you don't feel the same way." you say, almost as if you're trying not to hurt your feelings by letting your own words reject you, instead of him. he shifts, and you realize he's still inside you. he props himself up on his elbows, hands holding his head up as he peers at you. "you think i don't?"

"i know you don't." you laugh coldly, and he smiles. "yeah, miss sex expert? you know everything? did you read that, too?"

"ugh, stop. i'm never telling you anything again." you're becoming increasingly aware of your nudity, and seungmin can feel the hot flame of shame creeping up his back. he shakes his head, hating the way his blushing cheeks burn so bright. "i want you to tell me everything, forever. i love knowing you, i love trusting you. i'm glad you trusted me with this."

you can't look at him. his hand moves to make you look at him, fingers lightly squeezing your jaw. "and i meant what i said, too. you can't fuck anyone else. only i can see you like this, okay?"

his eyes are searching your face, watching you attempt to nod. "and…" he sighs, feeling tears prick at his eyes. "and i love you. i love your smile, and how you laugh when you play sex songs in the car. i love when we split cinnamon rolls, because you always try to take the bigger piece as if i won't just let you have it. i love when you say my name because it rolls so nicely off your tongue. i love how you move so effortlessly, and how you remember every little thing about anyone, ever. i love that you're funny, and you're so passionate. i love that you're so smart, far too smart to think that i wouldn't sell my soul to live an eternity by your side." his voice is trembling, and your eyes are wide and full of tears, full of adoration, of love for the stupid boy hovering above you.

"i love you, please. please say you're mine." his tears spill, and your lips part, a soft sob escaping as you pull him close, the cool metal of his necklace dragging against your damp skin. "i'm yours, always. i'm yours, i'm yours, i'm yours. i love you." you mumble against his lips, your tears mixing with his on your cheeks.

"thank fuck, i was about to end it all thinking about you doing that fucking trick on someone else." he mutters, and you snort as he buries his face. "that wasn't in the article, funnily enough. it just felt like the right thing to do. think if i pierced my clit, it'd feel better for you?" you ponder aloud, and he nips at your skin.

"don't even start, i haven't even pulled out." he groans, and you laugh loudly. "you're so pretty." he pouts, and rolls his eyes as they start filling with tears, your hand quickly wiping the ones that spilled. "is this going to happen every time? i kind of hate it."

"god, i hope so. i love seeing you like this for me." you tease, and he scrunches his nose. "shut up. stay humble, it's the only way i tolerate you." he nuzzles his nose back into your neck, and you let him stay there, carding your fingers through his hair.

"y/n?"

"yes, seungmin?" "i'm yours, you know that?"

"mmm, i do now. just mine?" "just yours. always." he nods as he pulls himself off you, placing a kiss on your temple, before brushing his lips on the shell of your ear. "someone has to fuck the attitude out of you, and i'm so glad it's gonna be me." you feel your skin heat at his words, and you smack him lightly. he gives a playful thrust, making you gasp before slowly pulling out. "you're off the hook for now, my angel. let's get you cleaned up." he doesn't stop kissing your face in the shower, or when he's shampooing your hair. he doesn't stop kissing your shoulders as he towels you dry, or your tummy when he works lotion into your skin. he can't keep his hands off you, even when you say you need to put clothes on. he can't get enough of the burn of your skin against his, and moves as fast as a human possibly can stripping the sheets off his bed and replacing them. 

he can't stop, and he won't stop kissing you, splitting cinnamon rolls with you, or singing sex songs in the car. he can't stop, and he won't stop, supporting you at your recitals and fucking you stupid as a reward. he can't stop, and he won't stop filling your cup until it's overflowing, making you laugh until you cry, and dragging moans of his name from your throat.

he can't stop, and he will never stop, loving you.

temptaetions © 2024. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[vixstarria]

Confession, Astarion POV 

This is the fluffiest thing I have ever written (or, most likely, will ever write). Consider yourself warned. Linked with my Astarion’s romance with bard Tav series, but very much a standalone as well. 

Astarion x F!Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Bard Tav, soft Astarion, Astarion POV 

Comfort, fluff, love confession, cuddling, banter, angst, non-explicit, no spoilers, tooth-rotting sweetness (after the first few paragraphs anyway)

Approximately 1,000 words 

AO3

You were back in the dungeons. Darkness. Filth. The dreaded cold and the stench of old blood. He was there, as were your ‘siblings’. And so was she... 

She writhed on the ground in agony. And you were useless. You couldn’t move a muscle, having been ordered to stay still, your body refusing to obey your will - all you could do was watch the horrible things that were being done to her. The only thing that could possibly make this worse, was if you could move, because you would only move as a puppet, obeying his commands.  

“Fetch the pliers, Astarion.” 

A terrible howl tore from the depths of your chest. 

“Astarion... Wake up... It’s only a dream. It’s not real.” a hand was shaking you awake, and you opened your eyes to see her lying next to you, concern written on her face. Unharmed. In your tent.  

Breaking free of the sleep paralysis was like trying to move with the weight of the ocean on you. Once you finally escaped it, you grabbed her, wrapping her in a bear hug and clutching her against your chest, and wordlessly rocked her, kissing her forehead, as though she was the one who needed comforting.  

She must have guessed what your dream involved.  

“I’m okay... I’m with you, my sweet.” she nuzzled into you, stroking your back.  

“You were...” you couldn’t say it. “...Gods, that was the worst one yet. I couldn’t do anything.” You held her tighter. 

“It’s not real. I know you’ll keep me safe... You always do...” she murmured into your neck. 

If your heart could do anything but sit as dead weight in your chest, it would have melted.  

Once you’d calmed and your breathing was back to normal, she lifted her head and planted a soft kiss on your lips.  

“Awfully sentimental of you to be having nightmares about losing me.” 

Back to laughing about everything... 

At that moment you knew you’d finally had enough. You’d had enough of being coy and putting on a display of nonchalance, you’d had enough of turning everything into a joke, you’d had enough games, enough pretending. You said you wanted something real with her, and you meant it.  

“I love you,” you whispered. 

And just like that, it was out, and you lost all care about any self-restraint.  

She grew still, and you slipped your hand gently over her mouth, just firmly enough to let her know you didn’t want her to say anything just yet, and rolled on top of her, tracing her face with kisses, repeating it over and over again in between, like a manic mantra.  

“I love you... I love you...” 

Tears sprang from her eyes, and you kissed them away, as your own tears fell onto her face, still repeating those words.  

You wanted to live in this moment, for it to never end. If there was even the slightest chance that the next words out of her mouth were anything but reciprocation, you didn’t want to know yet. You couldn’t. You didn’t think you would survive it. 

But you could tell she was smiling, and kissing your palm, and still you continued, kissing your way down her face, until you landed a kiss just at the corner of her mouth, whispering a final “Love you... so much” before removing your hand and catching her lips with yours, still not letting her say anything.  

She returned your kiss, letting out the softest whimper, and she was clinging on to you in a tight embrace, so tight you could feel her heart like it was your own, beating wildly, and you knew, of course you knew, but you were still terrified, until... 

“I love you too, Astarion,” she finally managed, breathlessly. 

Your whole body shuddered in a sob. More than two hundred years... More than two centuries since you’d last heard those words in earnest.  

“I love you too... Should I say it twenty more times as well?” she was beaming, her eyes still wet. Gods, had she ever looked as happy and beautiful as in this moment?  

You breathed a chuckle, trying to recompose yourself.  

“Would you? Please..?” 

You lost all track of time, as you laid in each other’s arms, legs tangled, kissing, whispering and giggling like lovesick teenagers. Nothing had changed, really, yet somehow at the same time everything had. You knew it was silly, but were too happy to care.  

“When did it start for you?” you asked, linking your fingers through hers.  

“Do you remember that time near the risen road, when a bandit got close enough to have his knife at my throat?” 

“You were hopeless in battle then, darling,” you nodded. 

“...Thanks. Anyway, I thought I was done for. And then next thing I knew, you were on him, tearing out his throat with your bare teeth, spraying us both with blood.”  

“I got disarmed and couldn’t get to my weapon fast enough, it was the only thing I could think of doing,” you admitted. 

“And then you stared at me with that smirk of yours, licking the blood off your hand.” 

“And you, instead of vomiting or threatening to stake me like Gale and Shadowheart, just stared back, looking impressed, and thanked me,” you chuckled. 

“Yes, that was definitely the moment something stirred in me.” 

“You asked if I wanted to help clean you up as well, you absolute freak,” you broke into a full laugh. 

“I was joking,” she huffed. “...I think.” 

“I know... But that was when I knew something was wrong with you in a way that I found absolutely delightful.” 

More time passed. 

You were still lying in an embrace and looking into each other’s eyes, whispering, when you started to hear movement in camp. You didn’t know how you were going to get through the day, it was as though everything but what you held in your arms had lost all meaning and importance. 

“My Astarion... My sweet elf...” she murmured, running her fingers softly through your hair. 

This is what you were to her. Not a vampire, not a killer, not an instrument or means to an end, or a personification of some deranged fantasy. But something so... unsullied. You couldn’t possibly even begin to conceive how that could be, and yet... 

“My sunlight,” you whispered back. 

~~~~~

Next in series - The morning after

Series master list

AO3

[thehusbandoden]

You Flinch During an Argument -Amajiki Tamaki

A/n: so sorry this took so long! I had a good thing going but my power went out and it got erased </3

I do think this one's better though. Technically this is the third legitimate try <33

Edit: I'm trying out a new format for my info.. is it better or worse O.o

General info:

Wc: 1,176 words | angst to fluff/comfort | Character/s: Tamaki Amajiki

Warnings!: loneliness, snapping, flinching, a little bit of crying. Please let me know if I miss any! <3

Dabi | Hawks | Todoroki Shoto | Bakugo Katsuki | Midoriya Izuku | Shigaraki Tomura | Aizawa Shota | Amajiki Tamaki | Kirishima Eijiro | Shinso Hitoshi

The night was cold as you sleepily flipped through your journal, not wanting to write but knowing you should. The entries from the last three months have been short and filled with a dull ache of lonliness. They lacked the usual length and warmth you poured into the pages, ranting on about how sweet your timid Tamaki is and how much you adore him and his ever lasting warmth.

The rambling would go on and on, but now you wrote a paragraph or two about how your life has been 'fine' and that Tamaki has been super busy- if you wrote at all.

There was one or two that held multiple paragraphs of your frustration and not knowing who to blame- knowing that it wasn't Tamaki's fault that there weren't enough heroes to protect the innocent of your large city.

Tamaki was doing his best to protect the defenseless, and you admired that- but the dull ache that sat in the pit of your stomache couldn't go ignored much longer.

Sighing, you closed your journal, standing up from your desk to head to the living room, deciding to talk to Tamaki tonight.

~~

Four hours later Tamaki walked through the front door, tall form drained from exhaustion as he made his way inside, already stripping off his hero gear.

"Tama?" You call, poking your head out from the living room to sadly smile at your Tamaki.

"Oh. Hey y/n." Tamaki yawned, dropping both his cape and mask onto the floor as he dragged his feet towards your room, tossing his belt onto the kitchen table before moving onto taking off his gear further.

"Wait, Tamaki!" You call, stopping at the bottom of the stairs as Tamaki paused, looking back at you.

"Yes bunny?"

"Ummm.. can we talk?" You ask, smiling at the nickname Tamaki gave you the first week into your marriage- though he later admitted that he thought of it when you two were simply friends but was too shy up until that point-.

"Baby, I'm really tired.. is it important?"

"Yes.. it'll only take five to ten mintues."

"Okay baby, where do you want to talk?" Tamaki yawned.

"How about the living room? I can give you a shoulder massage while we talk if you like." You smile, causing Tamaki's eyes to shine as he smiled down at you.

"I'd like that."

~

After you were both situated you started by squirting some lotion on your hands before spreading it onto Tamaki's left shoulder, immediately noticing his many knots.

"Okay bunny, what did you want to talk about?"

"Oh.. so I know that you're working really hard and are really tired.. and I also know that we haven't had us time in a while.. so I was wondering if you could take a day or two off? Not much, just a day or two would be fine."

Tamaki was silent as you bit your lip in anticipation, hoping you didn't upset him somehow.

"Y/n.. are you serious?"

"Y-yes?"

"Do you know how many people might be dying right now? I can't just laze about spending time with you because you're feeling lonely. Why don't you go hang out with some friends?"

"T-that's not the same.."

"How so?"

"I want to spend time with you Tamaki. You know, my husband?" You scoff, starting to get annoyed.

"And I want to spend time saving people y/n, why don't you stop being sensitve and start thinking about other people?"

"But I've been holding my feelings back for months! Please! I'm just asking for a day- even a few hours is fine!"

"Y/n. No. Now if you're done I'd like to get to bed."

Jerking his shoulder away from your touch, Tamaki started standing up.

"But wait Tama-"

"No. I'm disappointed in your selfishness y/n."

"Wai-"

"Stop."

"Pl-"

"I said stop!" Tamaki hissed, turning around to face you within a second.

At the sudden movement and change of tone you flinched back, tears gathering in your eyes as you stared up at Tamaki, eyes wide.

As Tamaki glared down at you he froze as you flinched, heart immediately breaking as he saw the tears in the corners of your eyes.

"Y-y-y/n I-"

"I-it's okay Tamaki.. you don't need to say anything. I get it. I-I'll just go to bed now."

"B-but y-y/n.." Tamaki whimpered, guilt consuming him as he watched you walk away.

"Y-y/n.. I'm sorry.."

~

You quickly got in bed after hurrying up the stairs, wiping at your eyes as you clung to your pillow, staying as far away from Tamaki's side as possible.

~~

You awoke the next morning to the sun shining in your eyes.

Wincing, you turned around to feel for Tamaki, forgetting all about last night and the dreadful few months.

After feeling how cold Tamaki's side of the bed you sighed, memories coming to you in flashes as you stared at his side of the bed.

Wiping away the stray tears, you got out to get ready for a day worse than the one yesterday.

After getting dressed you made your way down stairs, deciding to get on top of your piling to-do list to help get your mind off of Tamaki.

Stepping into the kitchen, you stepped back at the sight of a lavish breakfast filled with all of your favorites spread across the newly cleaned kitchen table.

"T-Tamaki.." you whimper, looking at your beloved with tearful eyes as he guilty studied you with his indigo orbs.

"Y-y/n I-"

You interrupted Tamaki as you rushed into his arms, clutching the back of his shirt, desperate for comfort from the man you've grown to adore.

"Y/n I- I'm so so sorry." Tamaki mumbled, burying his face into your hair to mask the tears falling from his eyes.

"I forgive you Tamaki, I know you were just over worked and didn't mean to take it out on me."

"I promise you- I really didn't me an to, a-and I feel terrible about it."

"Shhh it's okay baby.. I already forgave you. We just need to reflect on what we did wrong tonight and make sure not to do it in the future. Next time, I'll wait until you're less exhausted, and you'll make sure to remind me that you're too tired, mkay?"

"O-okay.."

"Now baby.. why are you home? Don't you have work?"

"Nope, I took the next two weeks and a half off. I know that it won't make up for the months of loneliness, but I'll try to be better, I"ll take less shifts and make sure to only leave for emergencies when I'm off the clock.

"Alright, that's a good start."

"I may need today and possibly tomorrow to sleep.. but I cleaned the entire house -besides our room- and looked at your to- do list and did a few of the bigger things on there.. oh and I made us breakfast.."

"Tamaki. I love you. So, so much."

"I love you too bunny. I'm really rea-"

"Shh, I already said I forgive you. Now, let's eat!"

~~~

Series' masterlist | Tamaki's masterlist | Navigation

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[kamii-2]

can i req a angst? kk arnold x reader. reader was having a tiring and stressful day! so she was angry, very angry and bored. kk tried to approach her to annoy her a bit (as always) just jokingly, but reader unintentionally ends taking out everything in kk, she yelled at her, cursed... and kk becomes sad 🥺🥺

hi anon,i hope you enjoy the story!

warning(s): cussing, angst

genre: angst & fluff

pairing(s): kk arnold x reader

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today was one of those days where everyone was making you mad. you woke up mad and as the day went on you got more mad, nobody really talked to you today and you were glad. after all of your classes you went to your apartment, kk was already there waiting on you. when you walked in you put everything up then went to sit on the couch. “hey baby.” kk said as she walks out from your room, sitting next to you, you muttered a hi back and started to work on homework and other things on your computer.

kk started to poke you over and over again even if you said what, and you were starting to get mad and should’ve said stop but you weren’t thinking straight and instead of saying stop you yelled at her. “kk stop, i’m not in the fucking mood, leave me the hell alone for once!” yoi realized what you said and immediately shut the laptop and set it down on the coffee table, “kk i’m so sorry.” you said as kk moved to the other side of the couch, visibly upset. “please kk im sorry, i didn’t mean to yell at you.” kk kept ignoring you. “kk.” you said as she got up and put her shoes on and walked out of your apartment.

the moment kk left you started to write a paragraph to her about how sorry you were and you told her the reason you yelled at her in the first place. she replied fast and it was not what you were expecting at all

“why are you texting me? i thought you wanted me to leave you alone for once” reading the text made your heart break and you started crying so hard. you had no response to the message so you left her on read and went to bed, the sweetest and happiest person you know is now mad at you and won’t speak to you. the only person who can cheer you up no matter what was now the reason you’re crying. you were thinking of all of the things she might do, will she break up with you? will she stop talking to you? you weren’t sure and you didn’t want to find out.

-

it had been a week since you accidentally yelled at kk and she left your apartment. you guys haven’t talked since, she’s been ignoring you, you didn’t know what to do. even though kk has every right to be mad, you mad at her for being mad. you were mad that she wouldn’t hear you out and listen to what you had to say. you were getting sick and tired of her ignoring you over an accident.

you were so sick of it you literally went to her dorm. you knew she most likely wouldn’t answer because it’s her shared dorm with her team, but you didn’t care. it was 7:12 pm and you were at her dorm, knocking and waiting for someone to answer. after a few minutes her teammate caroline answered, “kk doesn’t want to speak.” she said while attempting the shut the door. you slide in as she was shutting the door, getting smashed but still getting in, “i don’t care.” you replied and you ran to kk’s room before someone could grab you.

when you walked in kk was in her bed, looking sad while scrolling on her phone. she looked up and seemed happy before immediately looking mad, “how did you get in?” she asked rudely, “doesn’t matter, anyway i came here to apologize for everything. i said the things i did brii was in a really bad mood, which doesn’t excuse my behavior, but still im really sporty and ill do anything to make you forgive me. im really sorry.” you quickly but sincerely apologized. kk just stared at you for a second before getting up and hugging you, “im sorry to over reacting and not talking to you for a week but what you said really hurt me.” she whispered into your neck, still hugging you.

you weren’t sure how but this simple hug felt like it fixed everything. she hugged you so tight, not loosening her grip once. everything felt like normal, it wasn’t awkward and silent like how it had been for the past week. this hug was everything but awkward, it may have been silent but it wasn’t a bad one, a comforting one.

you two stood there hugging for a while, you were surprised nobody walked in or tried to. when your long hug ended, kk led you to the bed and showered you with kisses and praises. “i love you so much, i never want to lose you.” she smiled and she continued to kiss all over your face, you giggled and wrapped your arms around her waist, pulling her closer into you. everything was back to normal.

==================================

so sorry this took 4 million years to get out but i really hope you liked it, i hope you have a good day/night, love you 💋💋

[dvskf4llz]

HIYYYAAAA DUSK IT'S CLOUDY HERE!!!! I've missed ya! I hope you're doing alright and remember, you don't need to be constantly writing oneshots so that you can post them! Take as much time as you need <3

Anyways! Could I request some Valentines HCs with some of the Hermits? Maybe Ren, Xisuma and Grian again? Or just any Hermits you want and can do! :D

I do apologize for asking for so many Hermits last time- you are allowed to do as many Hermits as you want <3

Much love and always take care of yourself! <3 -☁️ anon

Hiii cloudy!! And hello to everyone else aswell!! I'm actually back this time I swear- I do apologize for not following the uploading schedule I promised, I just didn't feel motivated enough to write anything but now I do!

So have some Valentines HCs! <3

Valentines with the Hermits HCs

𝓜𝓾𝓵𝓽𝓲𝓹𝓵𝓮 𝓗𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓲𝓽𝓼 (𝓢𝓮𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭) 𝔁 𝓖𝓝!𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

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This oneshot contains: A bunch of corny stuff, fluff, kissing, slight suggestiveness (?), cuddling, fluff and overall just some wholesomeness <3

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GoodTimesWithScar

- With Scar, he either tends to forget about Valentines or he does remember Valentines

- This year, he remembered. By the time you were awake, you bet he made you your favorite breakfast. He had woken up a few hours before you did just to do that for you for Valentines, not that he doesn't sometimes do that on regular days aswell

- Scar's the type of guy to prefer more simple stuff, he wouldn't go all out on Valentines but he would still do his best to make it special.

- He'd get you your favorite chocolates and just a simple Valentines card he made for you, the card had a very sweet paragraph that explained how much Scar loved you

- If you wanted to go out on a date, Scar would surprise you with a simple yet cute picnic date on a spot he figured you liked. He had also picked up some flowers to give to you, the flowers just so happened to be your favorites aswell!

- If you wanted to just stay at home, Scar wouldn't mind at all. He'd still get you flowers though, he couldn't just not get you anything for Valentines. For the rest of the day, you two just mostly spent time together in bed cuddling.

Docm77

- When I say this man will spoil you, he will go ALL out.

- You would wake up to a whole feast of all the different foods you like, it was practically enough to be considered as three meals.

- He'd definitely also have made a whole build just for you, most likely a huge build of a teddy bear that held a heart that had the words: "I love you!"

- You think that's all Doc got you? Oh hell no. He got you a whole bouquet of flowers, your favorite chocolates, a small version of the teddy bear he made but it's actually a stuffed teddy bear and much more.

- This man takes Valentines as an excuse to spoil you even more than he usually does, but he still makes sure tone it down a bit if you tell him it's too much already

- If you were fine with going out on a date outside, you bet Doc would bring you to a place you've always wanted to go to or would you bring you to a fancy restaurant

- If you just wanted to stay at home, Doc would try to persuade you first but would soon give up as he respected your decision. That didn't mean though that he wasn't going to still try his best to spoil you, but at the end of the day you both just cuddled together in bed after a long day of Doc spoiling you <3

Rendog

- Ren would be a mix of both Scar and Doc honestly, he'd try his best to make Valentines both extravagant while still trying to make it simple enough to your liking

- Just like Scar, Ren would wake up earlier to make you your favorite food for breakfast. He'd try to make a cute little design with the food, but would fail a bit but it's not like you minded.

- Like Doc, Ren would also spoil you with gifts such as, your favorite flowers, favorite chocolates, a stuffed animal that just so happened to be your favorite animal and a lot more things

- Ren wouldn't mind at all whether or not you wanted to go out or just stay at home, he respects your decisions.

- If you wanted to go out, Ren would be all for it. He'd take you out on a nice dinner date at a place where it just has the most wonderful view. And of course, the food was but your favorite.

- If you wanted to just stay at home, Ren would be fine with that too! He'd happily bring you to you two's shared bed and cuddle you the whole time, he would also definitely be all up for just a simple conversation. He loves you and will always respect what you want <3

Bdubs

- This man will not let you get out of bed, like at ALL.

- As soon as you woke up and tried to stand up, Bdubs was there to stop you by pouncing onto you with his full body. You may or may not have hit your head as this happened, which Bdubs apologized profusely for and made it up with kisses

- After that happened, he still would not let you get up. He was not going to budge, not even if you give him puppy eyes or try to persuade him with.. Ways...

- You wanna eat? Bdubs will bring a bed tray with your favorite food, it also had some of your favorite flowers in a vase as it was one of Bdubs' gifts for you today.

- You wanna go out? Too bad, Bdubs will stay laying ontop of you so that you can't move. You don't exactly have a choice since Bdubs was ontop of you, so you just had to give in.

- You wanna have a date? Consider a bed date that's filled with cuddling and kisses, probably some other things aswell but we'll not get on that subject yet

- Where's your gifts? Don't worry, Bdubs would hand you all the gifts he got for you for Valentines. It consisted a bunch of your favorite stuff, he even went out of his way to learn how to create an origami version of your favorite animal!

- You two ended the day with cuddling of course, it's just a necessary to do every night!

Grian

- Grian doesn't try to go too eccentric on Valentines, but you bet he's not going to stop his mischievous nature.

- You two would be doing something sweet as making Valentines cookies, which would end up getting a bunch of flour on the kitchen and on both you and Grian. Both of you would be giggling your butts off as an accidental flour spill on Grian turned into a whole flour war, it looked liked winter in the Kitchen afterwards. You both agreed to just leave it for tomorrow as you both continued on with Valentines!

- Grian probably would prefer to just stay at home, but he wouldn't mind taking you out on a cute date. Maybe a stroll around the server, holding hands and happily talking while the other listens

- Meanwhile if you didn't mind also staying at home, then you bet you both would be playing with Maui and Pearl. You two would be sitting down on the ground as both cats got equal attention from the both of you, both you and Grian definitely would end up having to chase after the cats soon enough

- If you wanted to just sit down and chat with Grian, he'd be good with that! He'd willingly listen to you talk with admiration in his eyes, he just loves you so much ahhsbshdhb

- By the end of the day, Grian would have his wings wrapped around you while you two cuddled on the couch with both Maui and Pearl on both of your guys' laps. Just a sweet wholesome moment <3

Xisuma

- While yes, Xisuma does remember about Valentines. He struggles to find enough time to spend time with you on this day of love, he would feel so bad because he couldn't spend all that much time with you. He would apologize profusely everytime he would have to get pulled into something important, you of course would re-assure him to calm him down.

- Xisuma would always be trying to make it quick so that he can spend time with you, he would also make sure to grab you some gifts when he just so happens to pass by a store that had some things you liked

- Once Xisuma finally had the chance to spend time with you, he would rush home as fast as he could. He would be at the door with him panting like crazy as he ran as fast as he could back home, he could've flown back home with his elytra but he kind of forgot about that..

- After catching his breath, he'd give you the gifts he got for you looking slightly bashful. You were surprised to say the least, but you weren't ungrateful. Xisuma was definitely getting some sweet kisses, and a lot of them.

- If you told Xisuma you wanted to go out on a date, he'd bring you out to a slightly high hill and would sit down with you to watch the sunset. After, you both would then stargaze in peace, chatting from time to time as you both started up at the sky. Xisuma would definitely start naming different stars off of you, even using some of your nicknames just to be a bit funny

- If you wanted to stay in though, Xisuma was fine with that! You both would do some sweet yet simple couple stuff like learning how to do different things, Xisuma would definitely try to teach you how to play the guitar.

- And of course, ending the day with cuddles and sweet kisses in bed. Xisuma would have his armour off so that you could actually feel the warmth from his body and just actually feel his touch from his skin, overall it was just a sweet and simple day <3

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You reached the end, congrats! :D

I'm a little late to post this but I still got it! I hope you all enjoyed it, I do want to thank rubi for helping me get this ideas so shoutout to them!

Oh and, if you're wondering what you got for the Hermits.. That's up to your imagination ;) (Go wild.)

Anyways, have a good day/night! Always take care of yourself lovelies! Get all the rest you need and don't feel pressured to do anything! Love you all! /p <3

[wheeboo]

lucky | lee jihoon

SYNOPSIS. in which jihoon realises just how lucky he is to have you. PAIRING. lee jihoon x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship WARNINGS. none, jihoon is just deeply whipped and falling hard for reader (🫵) WORD COUNT. 1.3k

notes: ive been addicted to a new song recently called lucky by crying city n wanted to write it abt w someone. i havent written for jihoon in a while so enjoy some domestic jihoon brainrot :')

Jihoon had always told himself to be patient when it comes to being with you. He likes it this way𑁋the steady and slow incline of his feelings towards you. It's like a delicate flower in bloom, or watching a sunrise over the horizon, each day bringing a bit more light and warmth to his heart.

You like it this way too. Because when time seems to be going by fast around you, it only seems to slow down when you're with him.

He likes the way he seems to discover something new about you every time you went out on a date. It can be a distant memory from the past that you remember that reminds you of him, or something miniscule like a quirk when your eyes grow big when you're amused or when you reach for the nearest object to grab when you're excited. In most of these cases these days, it's the sleeve of his shirt or his wrist. Jihoon really likes it when you do that.

And amidst the things he notices about you, he doesn't dare to realise the subtle shifts of himself. Like the way he now anticipates your laughter before it even escapes your lips, or the way his smile grows just a little bigger each time he gets to walk you home with your arm comfortably wrapped around his. Or maybe when his gaze seems to linger a little longer when looking at you as if trying to imprint every detail of your face into his mind, or when the thought of your absence becomes an ache in his heart that he can't ignore.

Just like right now.

Jihoon recognises that he's no longer just patient; he's become truly invested in your life, your happiness, just you. You're the first person he's ever truly liked, and he ponders whether this feels right or not𑁋to miss you this much it feels merely incomplete to be home alone right now, because he'd much rather be with you. The thought scares him a little. He's never imagined himself to feel this way.

It isn't due to uncertainty about his feelings; it's more about the vulnerability that comes with caring so deeply for someone. The idea that his happiness has become so entwined with yours is both thrilling and overwhelming that even his members seem to notice a particular glow to him lately. But then he remembers just how easy it is to be Lee Jihoon around you. Not just Jihoon. Lee Jihoon. Himself, and nothing more.

What he feels isn't just fleeting𑁋it's real, it's profound, and it's worth embracing.

Jihoon trudges to his bedroom, placing himself down at the edge of his bed with his thumb hovering over your contact. He contemplates sending you a goodnight text, but it feels lackluster to send such a simple message when there's so much more to be told. He could also send you a paragraph for you to read, but that also doesn't feel enough.

He wants to see you instead.

With a determined yet slightly nervous exhale, Jihoon taps on your contact and selects the video call option. His heart quickens in an instant as the call connects after a few rings, and he's quickly greeted by your surprised face.

"Hoonie?" You call to him, and Jihoon swears his heart melts into goo each time you call him that.

"Hey," he greets you warmly, noticing how you were scrambling to prop up your phone properly. "I'm... not interrupting anything, am I?"

You shake your head, offering a soft smile. "No, not at all. Are you okay? You usually don't call."

Jihoon bites his bottom lip nervously because you're right. He's always been more comfortable texting than calling, but there's just something about this moment right now that makes him want to change that fact, especially if he gets to see a glimpse of your face for one second.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I just... wanted to see you," he admits, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You lift an amused brow, finding the smile to your lips hard to resist. "Shouldn't you be asleep by now? You have work in the morning with the guys."

Jihoon runs a hand through his hair sheepishly. "I know, I know. But I... I wanted to see your face."

Your face softens. "Well, I'm glad that you're here. You can get ready for bed with me."

Jihoon's smile grows, and he shifts slightly on his bed, propping himself up against the pillows. The warmth in your voice is enough to make his heart flutter, and the idea of sharing this domestic moment with you, even through a screen, feels comforting. It makes him imagine himself unwinding for bed with you without a phone call separating the two of you.

"I'd like that," he replies, gaze fixed on you bringing your phone into the bathroom. "It's been a long day."

He listens to the sounds of running water as you wash your face, and seeing your pretty bare face gives him all the more reason to hope that one day, he'll be able to cherish it in person. It's as if he's there with you, a silent presence in your room, a part of your everyday life.

He stands up as well, bringing you along into his own bathroom. Jihoon sets his phone on the counter, giving you a view of his bathroom as he goes about washing his face as well. You shake your head with a smile as you watch him dry his face, already standing with your toothbrush and toothpaste in hand, silently gesturing to him once he catches sight of you.

Jihoon chuckles softly and he picks up on your unspoken cue. He reaches for his own toothbrush and toothpaste, mirroring your actions as you both start brushing your teeth together, occasionally exchanging shy glances here and there and letting the domesticity of the moment take over.

Once you're both done, you watch as Jihoon rinses his toothbrush and puts it back in its place. He dries his hands and faces the phone's camera with a soft smile, seeing that you were already walking back to presumably your bedroom. He does the same as well, collapsing onto his bed and settling under his duvet, the soft glow of his bedside lamp casting a warm light on his face. You've also settled back into bed on your end, the dim lighting in your room making you appear extra cozy under the covers.

As you both settle into bed, he can't help but imagine a world where he's right there with you. It's a thought he often entertains: a dream of being able to hold you close, to feel your warmth against his for the first time. He imagines being able to live that quiet life with you.

One day, I'll hold you like this for real, he thinks.

There's a yawn that leaves your lips that Jihoon overhears through the phone, and it tugs at his heartstrings in the sweetest way. It's a small, ordinary sound, but to him, it's a reminder of the most mundane and heartfelt moments you've shared. As he continues to watch you, he notices the telltale signs of weariness in your eyes, and he can't help but feel a twinge of protectiveness.

"You should rest," Jihoon suggests, voice carrying the same warmth he feels.

You give a small pout. "I don't really want to sleep just yet."

"I'll fall asleep better knowing you're getting rest too," Jihoon insists gently.

Your pout turns into a contemplative look at his words. "You've... got a point."

There's a few moments of silence that passes, and Jihoon takes it as an opportunity to watch the way your features gradually soften before finally relaxing.

"Okay." You let out a sigh, reaching out to readjust your covers before giving Jihoon one final look through the phone. "Promise me you'll get some rest too?"

Jihoon only nods. "I promise."

You grin sleepily. "Sweet dreams, Hoonie."

"Sweet dreams, Y/N." I hope you dream of something beautiful tonight.

The call stays connected for a few moments before Jihoon finally gives in and ends the call. He lets out a breath he feels he's been holding in for a while as he lays there. The glow of his phone's screen slowly fades away, leaving his room in peaceful darkness. He shifts under the covers, getting comfortable and closing his eyes.

And in that moment, it hits him just how lucky he is have you.

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