#i hadn't used her in so long i missed her :'-)

[cherrygirlfriend]

touchy subject II pairing: reader x exfiancé!rafe synopsis: seeing your ex-fiancé after four years. warnings: heavy angst. some fluff. miscarriage/stillbirth. vehicular accident. wc: 2k part 2 of touchy subject. part 3 / the final part coming soon. click here for part 1

you could feel your heartbeat in your throat, raw with unshed tears, the vision of your ex-fiancé with another woman blurred by nothing but the tears brimming at the edges of your vision, so different from the ones that ran down your cheeks the day you'd said yes to him.

"of course i'll marry you." you pulled rafe to stand up, your arms around him before you could even think about what you were doing, rafe letting out a sigh of relief. "wait, wait, i gotta ask you something." you rushed out, pulling away from the hug, his hands still staying on your waist.

"what is it?"

"is this just because i'm pregnant?" you ask, rafe's brows furrowing in confusion, yet you left him no time to respond, "it's just- i want to marry you, but i don't want you to feel like you have to ask me just because i'm pregnant, and if you want to wait until the baby's-"

you could feel how tired rafe was getting of your rant by the intensity of his lips on yours, using it to interrupt you, his fingers sliding under your jaw to help hold it up to meet his; and just like always, he didn't need to say one word for you to understand what he was communicating to you.

the moment his eyes found yours, it felt as if all the air was punched out of your lungs, like the entire planet just stopped spinning. it didn't matter that the jewelry store's display was separating you; it felt like the first time he looked into your eyes and told you he loved you.

you wanted to run, to make sure you wouldn't have to face him, to have to hear what his voice sounded when you'd already managed to forget how it was to hear it in person, but it was like your feet had rooted to the ground within the few seconds that he spotted you.

and you begged to whatever entity that once you saw him approach the exit to the jewelry store, the other woman long forgotten, that your fight-or-flight instinct would kick in, but luck was never really on your side, because there he stood, his face the same as the last time you saw him, with a few lines added here and there, and a part of you couldn't help but ache at the thought of having missed the moment they appeared.

you looked up at him, into the same eyes you'd once imagined your daughter would have, the thought making the bout of nausea in your throat even worse. a part of you wanted to congratulate him, to tell you that you were happy for him, but it felt like the words were choking you, like they were burning in your throat. but the choice to even say something was taken from you, when you heard the bell above the door to the jewelry store let out a cheery ring.

"rafe…?" the red-haired woman called out, her brows furrowed in question, and the moment your ex turned around to face her, you took the opportunity to turn the other way, begging that your feet would take you away before you threw up on the spot.

"i saw him yesterday."

"it was the first time you saw him in person since you left, correct?"

"yes. i sometimes checked up on his social media, but seeing him like this... so close to me i could touch him... it was pretty jarring. it felt like no time had passed, but also like i hadn't seen him in decades."

"and how did he look?"

"handsome." you chuckled softly, your hand going to fiddle with the locket around your neck, sliding it up and down the golden chain, avoiding looking at the zoom meeting displayed on the laptop screen. "he looked just like he looked with me. he looked happy."

"happy anniversary, rafe." you smiled softly as you pushed the gift box at him, your fiancé letting out a small tut.

"you know you didn't have to get me anything, right? you're enough for me already. both of you are."

"yeah, yeah, stop being all cheesy and chivalrous and open it already." you urged, watching as he lifted the lid of the gift box, his eyes widening as he looked down at the present, but before he could say anything, you stopped him, "look at the back of it!"

rafe rolled his eyes, picking up the steel watch from the box, and you could see his gaze soften the moment his eyes spotted the engraving on the back of the watch, the edges of his lips almost automatically twisting up at the words 'evelyn cameron'.

"is it bad that it makes me feel bitter?" you asked, chewing at the inside of your cheek, "that it's been four years, and i haven't been able to move on, but he has? that he's managed to be happy, but i haven't? that i don't know if i ever will?"

"the loss of a child..."

you couldn't help but tune out the words of your therapist like they were nothing but background noise, not knowing if it would be worse if she tried justifying your anger or if she tried to get you to understand why rafe had managed to move on, your eyes instead focusing on the heart-shaped locket you'd opened, the faces of the couple staring right at you.

"rafe, where are we?" you laughed softly, your feet hurting from the heels you were starting to regret wearing, the blonde having parked his car in front of a random house.

"you didn't think i wouldn't get you an anniversary present, did you?" when you didn't immediately answer, he pressed his hand to his chest in mock offense, shaking his head, "come on. lemme show you."

the two of you got out of the car, your heels clacking against the stone pathway leading to the house, rafe's muscular arm keeping you close to him, helping you walk.

when you got to the door, he let go of you, and you watched as he took out a set of keys without saying anything, twisting them in the lock and pushing open the door, looking to you enthusiastically, extending his hand to you.

the moment you stepped over the threshold, you were enveloped by warmth, rafe flicking on the light next to the entryway before turning to you as your eyes got used to the light, sliding his hands onto your waist, pulling you as close to him as the growing child allowed.

you looked into his eyes, yours filled with confusion while his were filled with nothing but sincerity, his thumb stroking your waist. "rafe, what's this?"

"it's our home." he said, bringing his hand to your bump, "i know it's not much, but it's got enough room for our family."

"rafe, this is-"

"this is my anniversary present for you. i won't take 'no' for an answer." he brushed a strand of hair away from your cheek, tugging it behind your ear, "i want us to build our own home. our own life."

you kicked the radiator in frustration; it seemed like no matter what, the place wouldn't warm up. you'd called a maintenance guy, but they told you that it'd take at least a week for them to get someone there, and in the middle of winter, your only option was to light the fireplace in the middle of the living room while you waited for your mom to arrive with a portable radiator she told you she'd borrow you.

you sat in front of the blazing fire, your fingers fiddling with the frayed edges of the worn-out ultrasound picture you'd looked at a million times, your voice coming out weak from the sobs you were holding in your throat.

"hi, evie." you said softly, looking to the small urn next to you, engraved with the name of your daughter as well as today's date, only five years before. "happy... happy birthday."

"hi, baby." rafe's voice called out from the speakerphone of your car, the windshield wipers wiping away some of the rain falling down on you as you drove through the dark streets lit only by the yellow streetlights above, "are you almost home?"

"i am." you chuckled softly, "seeing my mom was so nice, even though she kept being all cheesy about how big i'd gotten. i swear, she almost cried."

"come on, she's gonna meet her grandkid in a month, of course she's gonna be all cheesy. if my dad had a paternal bone in his body, i'm sure he'd be ecstatic."

"yeah, well, you're not the one whose stomach is constantly getting pawed by people." you let out a snort, looking out into the road, "listen, i'm gonna drop by the store cause little evie's craving chocolate, do we need anything?"

"nah, just need you two home as soon as possible."

"aye aye, captain. see you soon, baby." you laughed, hearing the noise that signaled that the call had been ended, eager to get home and off your feet.

but before you could even realize what was happening, you were faced with a second pair of headlights that was approaching you, another car lit up by your own yellow headlights. and you swerved.

maybe it's a part of the so-called mother's instinct to blame ourselves when something happens to our child. no matter how many people told you that it wasn't your fault, that there was nothing you could've done, every bone, every cell in your body couldn't help but beat yourself up over what happened.

rafe ran down the hospital hallway, the smell of disinfectant mixed with the feeling of his heartbeat in his ears making him feel nauseous, the man sure that it was beating 200/bpm, but finally, when he reached the hospital room the reception had guided him to, a sense of relief took over him.

a nurse walked out of the room, startled by the man, her eyes widening at the obvious sense of urgency he was displaying, "can i help you?" she asked.

"no, no, i'm just here to see my fiancé." rafe said, his hand going for the door, only to be blocked by the nurse.

"i'm sorry, but the patient has told us that she doesn't want any visitors."

"what?" rafe let out a dry, humorless laugh, his brows furrowed, "you have to let me see her, that's my fiancé. that's- that's the mother of my child."

"i'm sorry, but the patient-"

"hey!" rafe pounded the palm of his hand on the door, the hospital bed visible from the rectangle of glass on the door, the man able to see your mother hunched over your bed, holding you. "let me-"

"sir, if you don't calm down, i'm going to have to call the guards and they'll remove you from the premises."

"that's my fiancé!" rafe shouted as the nurse pushed him further from the door, "i have to go see her! you have to let me see her! just tell her that i'm here, she'll want-"

the door to your hospital room swung open, rafe meeting the crestfallen eyes of your mother, her lips pulled into a straight line. "rafe, she doesn't want to see you."

when you heard the doorbell ring, you wiped away the tears that had ran down your cheeks; you didn't want to make it obvious to your mother that you'd spent the last fifteen minutes crying, and even if she could tell by the redness of your eyes, you knew she wouldn't mention it.

you pushed yourself off the ground, placing the small urn and the ultrasound picture on top of the fireplace as you straightened out your sweater, your feet cold against the hardwood floor as you walked to the front door.

but when you pulled it open expecting to see your mother, it felt like all the air had been knocked out of your lungs, like your heartbeat shot through the roof just from the sight of his downcast eyes.

"rafe."

[lesbo-tuliplvrr]

slumber party

bestfriend!abby x bestfriend!reader

summary: your best friend abby calls you up for a sleepover after having not spent time together in months.

clingy!abby, friends to lovers, college!abby, college!reader, fem!reader, y/n used once, medicalstudent!abby, fluff, minor angst but mostly it's one sided, no specific descriptions of reader other than them being shorter than abby and having their hair uncovered at night

wc: 3.2k

Abigail anderson. Your best friend since primary school. Your longest friendship. Your longest crush.

You hadn't always had a crush on Abby. Sure you loved her, but only really as a friend. That was, until junior year of highschool when her body had started noticeably changing. She started working out more, her biceps bulging through every tshirt. She had a growth spurt too, now almost towering over you. You yourself weren't that short but her stature made for a quite prominent difference.

You weren't usually shallow, But c'mon. Abby was already one of the best persons in your life; smart, caring, trustworthy. Turns out you only needed that little extra push to transform your platonic admiration for her into something else. This had been going on for 5 years and you had zero intention of ever letting her know.

It would just be way too risky, confessing something like that. What if she wanted to cut you off? What if she was disgusted by your feelings? What if being friends for so long bit you in the ass and she saw you more like a sister?!

And plus, dropping something like that on her when she was already swept up by her studies to become a doctor most of the time, would be horrible. You figured, you just had to let the feelings die. Of course it was taking much longer than expected, going onto the 6th year of having said crush, but it just had to be done.

So when Abby told you her dad would be out of town and that you should sleep over, you found yourself at a crossroads. You could go, and spend time with your best friend and it be a great night. Or you could go and be so incredibly uncomfortable hiding your feelings.

"Come on, we haven't had a slumber party in ages. I feel like we're always so busy we barely have any time for each other anymore. which is crazy for us!" Abby suggested as she spoke to you over the phone.

Yeah, totally not because I've been purposefully distancing myself to get rid of this festering crush.

You responded, "I mean , don't you have studying to do? I'll just distract you."

"Dont worry about me. Plus, you wouldn't distract me, you never do." She replied with her honey-like voice that would never cease to make you melt.

"We both know that's a lie but sure." You gave in. It was your best friend. Plus you really hadn't had time together in the past few months.

It was just a sleepover with Abby. All you had to do was act normal and it'd be fine. It's just Abby.

Abby answered the door when you arrived, immediately pulling you in a for a hug, stating how much she missed you and how long its been since you properly hung out, just the two of you.

"This place hasn't changed at all." you say, looking around at the familiar picture frames of her and her dad still plastered in their same spots on the walls.

"Yeah, we're both pretty busy all the time so," she trailed off. "You want anything to drink?" she asked, grabbing your overnight bag from you and heading to place it in her room.

"Nah, but I'll help myself, it's fine." you respond, following her into her room.

Her room has seen a few minor changes, none of which younwerent aware of though. It might have been years since you actually set foot into her bedroom, but you still saw it regularly. During your as frequent as possible facetime calls, you got to see through her camera the little changes she'd make to her walls. Even got to help in the decision process sometimes.

"It's been a while since you've been in here huh?" she asked, sitting on the edge of her bed, eyeing you as you peered at all her stuff.

"Yeah, cant believe how long it's been." you replied, distracted by the sheer amount of personality visible on her walls and desk.

Her college textbooks neatly tucked away on the side of her desk in a stack, near her pencil holder that held various shades of highlighters and pens. There were multiple pictures on the wall directly above her desk, along with many post it's of medical terms. Most of them were of her and her dad, or of her dog froma. few years ago, Alice. But right in the middle there were two of you and her. One from when you were much younger, closer to the time you first became friends and the other from your highschool graduation.

You made a mental note to take more pictures with her once you overcame your crush.

You looked around for a moment more, realising there was no mattress or anything on the ground. Sure, you slept on the same bed together before but that was when you were kids. Years ago.

"Soooo should I sleep on the couch or the ground?" you asked jokingly, secretly hoping she'd actually have an answer.

She laughed, "Oh come on, it might've been some time but we're not strangers." she joked with her beautiful smile.

Fuck.

You chuckled at this, hoping it seemed genuine and didn't expose the fear you felt of being so close to her for so long. Abby, however, noticed your shift in energy. Choosing not to say anything, she promptly changed the subject.

"Alright, what's for dinner?" she got up from the bed and led you both back out to the living room. Grabbing the TV remote, she put on one of her rnb playlists. "I was thinking we could cook something, chat and catch up for a bit then maybe watch a movie or something."

Gosh, she'd really thought this through. "Abby I hope that you don't have outstanding assignments due while you're doing all of this," you scolded her, already getting back into the groove of things.

She sighed, "Uugggghhh no, mom. I'll have you know that I am actually very ahead of my assignments. And even if I were behind, I'd still wanna be hanging with you tonight."

You looked at her with a raised eyebrow as she came around your frame to hug you from behind. You forgot how physically affectionate she was, and how much you missed it. You tried to not lean into it too much. The last thing you needed right now was to give yourself any false hope.

"I just- I really need this right now," she said with a sigh that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, dropping her head on your shoulder. You were so caught up in your own thoughts and feelings that you hadn't even stopped to think about how stressful school and everything must be for her. You turned your head slightly towards her, faces mere inches away from each other.

"I really need this right now and you're so fucking tense that I can't even give you a proper hug!" she stated, attacking you with tickles.

You screamed in laughter as she jammed her fingers into your sides, not giving up her mission to make you laugh. You tried running away but her grip on you was too strong, as expected of abby. Your attempts, however, did lead you to toppling over the couch, with her on top of you. She continued tickling you as you laughed, both smiling wide.

Through squeals and breaths you tried to reason it her, "Okay! Okay stop."

"There she is," she smiled, finally halting the tickles. You looked up at her, trying so very hard not to grab her by the collar and kiss her stupid.

She sat up, straddling your hips as you still lay on the couch, breathing heavily. You raised your head slightly, looking her directly in the eyes.

Gathering her breath, she started, "Okay. Now tell me, what's going on with you?" she asked, pushing her flyaways behind her ears.

Confused you asked, "Me?"

"Mhmm, you've been all distant and weird around me for quite some time." she supplied, hands resting on her thighs. her big, muscular thighs. snap out of it!

Shit, she noticed. "I-" you didn't know how to respond.

Worry evident on her face she continued, "Did I do something? Because if I did you gotta let me know, i- I've been so focused on school and-"

"No! no, n- it's not anything you've done. don't worry" you answered, "I guess I've just been feeling a bit...." you pulled something out your ass quickly, "lonely, lately."

Not entirely wrong. It was gonna have to work.

"I'm sorry." she replied, empathy clear on her face as she leaned forward to hold your arms. "But hey, I guess this came at the perfect time then huh? You won't be lonely tonight, I'll make sure of it. 'kay? Now let's go make something and you have to tell me everything that's been going on with you." she pat your thighs before coming off. Her weight would be a missed presence on your lap.

The music played at a comfortable volume as you two easily maneuver around the kitchen, cooking up a simple pasta dish. You talked about anything and everything, fully catching each other up on what the other had missed in their lives. In all your attempts at dodging her and keeping your distance, you'd forgotten why you two were best friends in the first place.

Abby was easy to talk to. She always knew how to cheer you up and how to comfort you. As did you to her. When you would hang out, there was always fun to ensue. Which is exactly why you fell in love with her. But as you were here, having chopped and prepared all the other ingredients and awaiting the water to boil, dancing and laughing around the kitchen hand in hand with Abby, you decided that just for tonight you could forget the complications that having a crush on Abby would cause and just lean into your best friend whom you missed so much.

When the meal was done, you both retreated to the couch where you sat closely next to each other in search of a movie to watch.

"I feel like nothing looks good," Abby stated, as she kept scrolling through the site.

"We could always hate watch something?" you suggested cheekliy, knowing that Abby was already not a big movie person and that it would be an utter waste of time for her to watch one that wasn't good.

"Ha ha very funny." she deadpanned, "What's that one you always wanted to watch when we were younger? Let's just watch that."

"Are you sure? Because you'll have to put up with me quoting almost the entire thing. And singing all of the songs." you weren't really asking seeing as she had already found the film, Tangled, and was ready to press play.

"I'll be fine pumpkin."

She hadn't called you that name in years. It was nice to hear it again.

As promised you quoted almost all of the movie, under your breath though, so as to not annoy Abby too much. It was more like a light whisper/lipsync. Unbeknownst to you, while you were thoroughly enjoying what was one of your favourite movies ever, Abby hadn't even been paying attention. She'd been looking at you for the majority of the film's runtime, only looking at the screen when you turned to look at her and found her not focused enough.

"You're missing important character development here Abby, he bought the apples for maximus!"

After the movie you both cleaned the dishes, then went to her room.

Another thing you forgot to consider in all your rumination, showering. You and Abby weren't the shower together type of best friends but it was definitely a 'not a big deal if we see each other naked' type of deal. So you'd often change into and out of clothes in front of each other with no problems. If the whole night so far wasn't gonna do it, this would be the fucking nail in the coffin. Abby, changing out of her clothes, right in front of you.

You didn't want to come off as suspicious by clearly turning away but you also didn't want to feel like a perv and look at her in her underwear, knowing full well that you wished it were under different circumstances. So you opted for casually directing your attention to somewhere else in the room as she stood naked a few feet in front of you.

"I guess I'll go in first," she annouced grabbing her towel and leaving the room.

You let out a breath you didn't realise you were holding as you quickly undressed and wrapped your towel around your body. You sat at the edge of her bed and waited for her to be done as you tried to calm your nerves.

It absolutely did not help your nerves when she stepped out of the bathroom and into her room, glistening from the shower. Muscles on full display, unbraided hair cascading down her back while some stuck to her face. She looked like a goddess. You quickly got up and headed into the shower, leaving her in her room to change.

It was like the more you decided to just let go of your feelings for Abby, the more she'd do things that made you fall for her all over again. You ended up taking way longer than usual in the bathroom, mustering up the courage to face her again while also trying to steady your heart rate.

Finally exiting the bathroom, changed and ready for bed, she closed the door, took off her bedroom light and hopped in right next to you. At first you both stayed silent, staring up at the ceiling, before she broke the silence.

"I'm really glad you were able to come," she expressed, turning on her side to face you.

You mimicked her position, scooting a little closer to the middle of the bed. "I'm glad I did."

You stared into each other's eyes for a moment, really taking the other in, before you spoke up again.

"You said you really needed this, what's going on with you?" you asked, poking a finger into her arm.

She looked down at where you touched her arm then back up into your eyes. Sighing with a smile, she responded, "School has been kinda stressful I guess, but to tell you the truth, I just missed you." She scooted closer to you, moving her hand from under her head to caressing yours.

No. She meant that as a friend of course. Do not get your hopes up again.

"You're tense again." she pointed out, hand still laying on your hair.

God, why was she so perceptive?!

"No I'm not?" you scoffed. Your deflection did not work on her.

"Yes you are. You've got that look in your eye again," she continued caressing your hair, "What's going on up there?"

You sat up, pulling away from her touch. She followed you in sitting upright on the bed.

You knew that lying about everything being fine would not work any better than it's been all day, so you figured you'd at least give her something.

"If I tell you, you might not want to hang around me anymore."

She looked at you incredulously. How could you ever think something like that? "Did you kill someone or something?" she teasingly suggested with a laugh, that being the only plausible situation in her head. She didn't miss how you looked at her, amusement absent on your face.

"Sorry, I just- no matter what it is, I won't stop being your friend y/n." she said seriously, one hand moving to touch your thigh.

"Please don't, because if I tell you and you really don't wanna be associated with me anymore it'll just hurt more." you barely got out, eyes becoming teary. You knew you were scared of something like this happening. Your increasing heartbeat and glassy eyes further proved just how terrified this made you.

If Abby wasn't worried before, she certainly was now. "Hey, I get to decide who stays in my circle and who doesn't okay?" She cradled your face.

You shook your head, still not giving into confession. "Everything's gonna change and I don't want it to so let's just forget it."

"If things have to change...then I'll just make sure it's for the better." How could she be so reassuring without even knowing what was going to be said? She held your chin, tilting your head to look at her.

With a sigh, you finally gave in, "I feel so much..love.....for you..since high school. And it's only gotten worse recently. I swear I've tried making it go away, I've tried so much. I don't wanna be a bad friend by springing this on you but i also know that trying and failing to hide it isnt doing me any favours either so.." Tears were streaming down your face, your sniffles becoming the most prominent sound in the room.

"And now because you know, things are never gonna be the same and I just wish I'd been better at hiding it. I wish I never had these feelings in the first place. Then this wouldn't be happening and I wouldn't have to lose my best friend right after we had so much fun together."

Abby was silent. Staring into your eyes, her expression unreadable. She looked down into her lap, a small smile growing on her lips, before looking back up at you.

She leaned forward till there was barely space in between the two of you. Abby glanced down at your lips then back up to your eyes, making it clear what she was referring to. "Can I?"

Your heart rate was through the roof. There's no way she wanted this too. "Are you not.. worried about how things are gonna be between us now?"

"I said I'd make sure the change was for the better, didn't I?"

"You can."

In what felt like zero time, Abby carefully crashed her lips onto yours. Her lips were soft, her touch gentle. It was exactly what you imagined this to be like.

Gently pulling away, she wiped your tears with her thumb, looking at you with so much love in her eyes you swore the rest of the world would now be void of it.

Through sniffles and smiles you apologized, "Sorry hah, I'm a mess."

"Did you really think I couldn't love you?" Abby asked, holding your face in her hands. "I've loved you before I even knew what love was, pumpkin."

Her efforts to wipe your tears were now fruitless, your eyes pouring out streams of emotion.

She pulled you in for a hug. This time, a proper one, without the weight of what could have been laying on your entire being. You shared one more kiss, Abby then kissing your forehead as you both lay down to finally sleep. A sleep void of worries and stress.

You were actually hers.

soooo sorry if that was basically 95% buildup for 5% payoff. I totally wrote this in a whim at late hours of the night. anyway, hope you enjoy. requests are open! to those whove requested, I am working on your stuff so have no fear :>

[ye4gerism]

𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐒, 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐋𝐘 - 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

word count 3.7k

content warning grief, mentions of death and attempted suicide, slight marital woes, frustration, curly’s mom living up to her “boy mom” title toward the end, talks about family planning (there’s not baby in this fic dw😭), black reader friendly

author’s note hi. again, thank you for the engagement on good luck, captain. this is a follow-up with post-crash curly and you both deal with the aftermath. this isn’t beta read and i’m not a professional in anything medical or legal (theatre major😓), as always, i’m open to feedback. i based this version of curly on ladonb.kokosa’s post-mouthwashing au! my requests are open as well - swing by!

synopsis set after good luck, captain! you didn’t think you’d live a life without your husband but you were and, slowly but surely, you were inching towards a new normal. And then your phone rings.

You remember the day they told you he wasn't coming home. The Pony Express first played it off as the mission being extended. And then they told you the Tuplar was missing and that the company was working their hardest to save them.

A year after their initial excuse of an extended mission, the Pony Express admitted the Tuplar was stranded 147 days into its journey. The company put the pieces together days after a report from the ship about a crash and realized it might be too late to save the crew as their oxygen was long gone.

You lost him. There wasn't even a hole in your heart but in your stomach and you felt like you were going to eat yourself alive. Your husband's body was somewhere in Space. Your Curly was gone. You were so mad at him before he left. His saddened face mixed with defensiveness was the last thing you saw. You didn't even say bye.

You don't remember how you got home. The stupid pony company called all of you - Curly's mom, Swansea's daughters, Daisuke's mother - to their headquarters under the impression that they had found them. Instead, you were sunken to your knees, unable to function.

Curly's mom stayed with you, abandoning Colorado for California. She spent every day by your side - trying to feed you on your couch as you couldn't bring yourself to sleep in the bed you shared with him. She was there to stop you from smashing every glass thing in your home from picture frames to the glass coffee table in your living room. She stopped you from ending your life when you couldn't bear to not wake up without Curly anymore.

"You're the only thing I have left of him," she told you. "You're like a daughter now. My responsibility."

Another year passed by - another anniversary, another birthday, another day he was supposed to be home. You were slightly better now, still living in your husband's home. You started going back to work. You were getting ready to go one morning when you received a call from a number you didn't recognize.

"Hello?"

"Is this Mrs. Curly?"

You hadn't used that name since he died. "This...this is she."

Cedars-Sinai had a body. They were in and out of consciousness but showed life and the hospital wanted to get this person in the best shape possible and send them back home. They said you were a person of interest.

So you went.

Was it bad that you were hoping it wasn't him? What if it was that boy, Daisuke? He wasn't a kid but he was still so young and full of life. You noticed him before you sort of saw Curly off. You remember his mom and how devastated she was when you all heard the news.

When you arrived at the hospital, you were immediately met with authorities. Before you could move any further, some investigators asked you to follow them into an empty examination room.

"The Tuplar was brought back here and we've had it for a while as you've heard," they started. "Everyone aboard is dead except one - the body you were called about. They didn't have a uniform on like the rest of the crew."

"Why are you telling just me this? Shouldn't there be other people hearing this news?" You hesitantly step back.

"We're hoping that body belongs to your husband. The medical side of this investigation is positive it’s him.”

They go on to explain what they think happened. All signs pointed to Jimmy, who seemed to be the only one who shot himself. They were still trying to piece together if he indirectly or directly murdered everyone else but it was clear he put your husband in the cryopod they found him in.

"We think the crash the freighter company caught wind of was the start of all of this. Your husband probably tried to stop the Tuplar from crashing," one of the investigators continued.

"Is he…okay? Can I see him?" Fuck Jimmy and fuck that ship.

The investigators go silent and look at each other, realizing you haven’t seen him yet. You start to grow impatient. "Can I see him?” you repeat.

"Please get you and your husband a lawyer. You'll need one. We're a call away if you both need any help." They slide you a contact card, leaving you confused.

"Where are you going?!" You follow them out of the examination room. You look down the hallway and decide that the investigators are no help and you decide to ask the medical personnel crowding the hall. You tap the back of a nurse. "Where is my husband? He’s Captain Grant Curly of the Tuplar." The nurse’s mouth twists in confusion but when your words settle she gives you the guiltiest look ever.

This continues as you move through the sea of so-called experts. You finally reach a room and you know it's him when two more nurses emerge for the room with fear-stricken faces. You're not so sure anymore if you want to go in there. The world around you goes silent; you're not sure if everyone around you knows you’re the Captain's wife or if you were used to tuning everything out by now.

You take a brave step and enter.

And immediately, you felt that hole growing in your stomach again.

One look at him and you were stumbling back. You fell on your rear, hand over your mouth, unable to control your tears or your screams. Finally, everyone in the hallway wanted to do their jobs.

Most days are awkward. The Curly now isn't the Curly you met years ago in London. He was quieter and less trusting of others. But who could really blame him?

Another year in - no anniversary date, no birthday, but he was here...and at the same time, he wasn't.

The investigation was adamant on their theory that Jimmy was the root of it all - the crash, your husband's burns, the deaths. It was something seeing random members of Jimmy's family coming out to defend him. The way he was so attached to Curly, you thought he didn't have any relatives.

His mom would get in T.V. and bawl her eyes out. She'd go on and on about how he was a sweet boy, that he was bullied growing up and it's hard for him to trust others. She'd talk about how Jimmy wouldn't intentionally hurt Curly and that the latter was his "'bestest' friend in the “whole entire world” so that means he wouldn’t hurt his best friend on purpose. She said Jimmy was troubled. That you could agree with but not in the same sense.

With your husband not being as talkative and responsive as he used to be, there was a long way to go before gaining a full understanding of what had happened and why. They had to get him to gesture for responses. Sometimes they couldn't get anything out of him. The whole situation was complicated on its own and it didn’t help that his voice was taken from him.

You wondered if he was mad at you. Your last conversation wasn't your proudest moment. Yes, he couldn’t speak but he wouldn’t look you in the eye or sometimes he’d turn his head slightly when you tried interacting with him.

Or maybe he was cold to everyone. His mom pretty much lived in your home now and he wasn't as responsive to her either. However, you remember all the times she complained about you, and before the mission, he had plans to confront her about it.

He was on a new diet. His doctors encouraged him to have everything blended to start and a lot of nutrients to help him with his health. You often were the one to feed him.

Some days he was willing. Tonight he was stubborn.

"Please. Please eat this," you begged. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, and "snack time" were either the worst or best times of your day. He turned his head away and then his body the more you begged. The last straw was when he moved what was left of his arm slightly knocking the eating utensil back onto you and on your clothes.

He realizes what he’s done and looks over at you to see your fuming face.

You take a deep breath trying to hold yourself but you can't. You both wrote vows to each other, put on rings, and lived as a married couple for years. You were helping him when it could be some random fresh-of-school nurse who knew nothing about him.

"I know it's hard being you these days. Hard not having much autonomy, hard not having a voice but sometimes it's hard being your wife and it's been like that for years." You pick the spoon up off of you and throw it on the hospital bed table.

"Even when you weren't..." you struggle to find the words to describe the state he's in, "Even when you weren't you now, it was hard being your wife. With your mom letting me know I didn't deserve you, with your extreme obliviousness, and fucking Jimmy fucking everything up per fucking usual."

For once, he was focused on you, tracking how your hands frustratingly danced with the words coming out of your mouth. "So, fuck me for trying right? Fuck me for waiting, fuck me for giving up my dream for us, fuck me for staying."

For extra effect, you get up pushing your chair a little too far back, that it falls. You notice him wince, how his shoulders slightly jump. "Fuck me! Fuck it all, Grant!" You finish off. You storm off into the hallway completely done with all of this.

You often asked yourself if you were ever making the right choice. He had nurses and doctors - people who knew how to take care of him.

"You're doing the right thing by sticking beside him," his doctor told you once. “He’s more responsive when you’re around. You’re helping him adjust.”

The guilt settled in. You were frustrated. You didn’t need to yell at him like that. You close your eyes and decide to go back into his room. You can't give up on him.

"Curly, baby?"

He's still sitting up, head hanging low now. You pick up the chair and the spoon off the table. “I…I didn't mean to lash out at you. I apologize for doing so.” You sit down and take a deep breath. “I just feel like such a failure. I let you get on that fucking ship and I let you get on with that…that…”

Jimmy wasn’t a man but he wasn’t a little boy either. He was genuinely miserable but yet so immature.

“And when you don’t eat, I feel like I’m doing something wrong. I want you to get better and I want to do better by you. Please," you beg.

You scoop up some blended broccoli and for the first time that day, he eats.

Another 365 days. You plan your anniversary dinner at the hospital with hospital cafeteria food, he's able to have a bit of birthday cake, and slowly, he's redefining himself.

The past year was full of constant hospital visits; your husband's doctor wanted specialists to give him skin grafts so he could at least feel and look more human than before - a statement you didn't like hearing. You always felt like everyone looked at him as some bizarre yet groundbreaking science project. For fuck sake, he and his crew were targeted and he was hurt trying to save their lives.

Curly had gotten sick from an infection he likely developed from his time in the cryopod to his return back to Earth. Despite being treated like a textbook study, he was well enough to come home for a little bit before the start of this current year.

You started the year by looking into different hand and leg prosthetics. You were only able to afford mechanical hook hands and legs for the first go but hopefully, this lawsuit against Pony Express will bring you enough to buy the robotic hands and legs he was eyeing.

He spent time between your home and the hospital after the first few skin graft procedures and he was fairing better in the hospital compared to home. You were bummed when you agreed to have him live full time in a hospital but you came to terms that something like this took a village. You hated his doctor, the nurses, and every other "specialist" who treated him like he wasn't human but they knew what they were doing. He just needed someone who still saw his human side and had the power to defend him - you.

When you weren't in court or with a lawyer or taking time to yourself at home, you were here with him. You told him about your week, complained about your concerns, and sometimes you'd sit in silence.

His newest and biggest milestone was his voice box. It took a while, and multiple ridiculous accents and dialects, to adjust but he finally spoke when the voice specialists you both worked with could give him an Australian accent.

"Say something," his coach encouraged, "I really think this might be the one."

Curly looks at you first, offering you his right mechanical hand. You look at it and for once you aren't reluctant and you hold it. You remember the first time he held your elbow and then your wrist the time you met. You remember how it made you feel; you were drinking at that pub but not feel more freeing than how he touched you that first night.

You felt that again. It was still there.

"I love you," he says. His voice is definitely from Down Under and it sounds a little electronically fried but your Curly had his voice again. You try to contain yourself. You didn't want to make him feel bad by crying. Your free hand finds itself on top of his and you pull it up to your lips.

"I love you too, Captain."

So the years keep passing and he gets better every day. Less time in the hospital and more time trying to beat him in a race. Curly loves to run; it's all he does. Every day he runs twice: once early in the morning and again before dinner. You've never woken up

to him beside you but to the sound of him returning and the feel of him rubbing his forehead against yours.

Oh, and he’s gotten back into skiing. At least once in a few you both visit Colorado and you watch him do his little snow sports. Coming from California, you didn’t really get it but you loved seeing how his eye lit up once he met you at the end.

He's eating solids. You have enough money for the hands he wanted but somehow you can't fathom not being able to help him eat. Sitting in the dining room was when you felt most intimate with him. It was just the two of you and when you felt the most vulnerable. However, you wanted the best for him and you wanted him to grow. So…maybe they’ll be a Christmas gift later? You can’t decide.

The investigation settled when your husband could finally tell his story from the layoff news to Jimmy's multiple violations. The Pony Express chose to settle rather than fight it out of court. Your lawyers wanted to go after Jimmy’s family next but as much as you wanted to ruin him, you found it wasn’t worth it. Jimmy died and he never got to have what you have. He could burn in Hell ten times over.

So the saga was coming to an end; the news found a different story to report on, Curly was home and was getting better and stronger, and you both found your rhythm again.

And his mom was returning back to the woman you knew before your husband's return.

She comes over one night for dinner. "So, now that things are settled...can I make the grandkid joke?" she starts. Mrs. Former Curly is the only one laughing and she knows it.

It was like oxygen had just been sucked out of the planet. You've lost your appetite. "Excuse me. I'm just going to get some air." You kiss your husband's forehead, trying to let him know you are fine. Him feeling guilty about all of this would break your heart. It really wasn't his fault.

The cold, rough feel of cement on the stairs brought a shiver to your spine but it became comfortable. You pull your knees up to your chest and stare out into the street.

"And see here-" Curly's standing in the middle of the street. "Our kid is going to draw little flowers and stars and stick figures of our family and neighborhood."

"Grant, please get out of the street," you yell out to him. He complies and comes over wrapping his arms around your waist. "Why would I need a kid if I have you around?" you joke.

"Well, Mrs. Serious, I need a mini-me to share my crazy, hopeful ideas with right? To give you some space," he jokes back.

You both only really wanted one. If you had more, fine - but you only were prepped for one child.

You hold his face before pulling him in for a kiss.

"You think she'll have your hair and my eyes?" he asks once you pull away. You raise an eyebrow. "What makes you think we'll have a girl?"

He has the hugest grin on his face. "Just a feeling. We're definitely girl parents!"

What the hell happened? If you only nagged him harder about working somewhere else or if he didn't pick up that phone call or if Jimmy could hold on his own.

What if you never met him? Told him to fuck off in London? You would meet some mediocre guy here in the States and convince yourself that he was your soulmate and you'd have the little girl you wondered about often running around your home.

You snap out of your thoughts when you feel a brush of air and Curly is getting down to sit next to you. He stares out into the street and it settles for him too. You both sit in silence.

He breaks it first. “I told her I’d check on you and once you’re settled, I’ll go back and kick her out. That was really uncalled for.”

You follow up. "It's not your fault, you know? Everything else, I mean. Not what your mom said.”

"I should have listened to you. I shouldn't have settled with Pony Express or Jimmy or how I viewed the world," he answers. "Imagine how different our lives would be."

"You have a heart of gold and unfortunately, you see the good in everyone even when you shouldn't. I know you feel so much guilt about...you know, Jimmy and what happened on the Tuplar. But you learned," You look over at him before placing a hand on his back. "Next time, you'll be more responsible."

You move closer to him and start rubbing his back slowly. He doesn't say anything back, so you change the subject.

"How do I tell your mom I don't want kids anymore? It's something that just can't happen and I accept that."

He doesn't say anything but hums, telling you that he's thinking. "Are you sure? That room is empty other than the stuff I left in there,” he finally says.

When you first moved in, Curly began to buy things that reminded him of the little girl you were yet to have and put them in the room you reserved for your first child. You thought he was insane but sure, whatever makes you feel prepped.

"You clearly still want it if you haven't cleared the room," he says.

You hang your head. "When I thought you died, I considered other options: adoption, surrogacy, insemination. People told me to look into that stuff… to keep the home full, they said. But I think where we are right now, we can put our wants aside. Maybe for good." You move your hand from his back to his knee. "I need to fix us first. Make sure we're okay...and that's going to take a long time."

He's still looking out into the street.

"Baby," you quietly say to him, "A kid isn't going to fix us, I'm really really sorry. I have to make sure you’re at your best and moreover, I can't raise a child when I'm not happy. It'll take us a long time to pick up where we left off."

"I don't make you happy?" You can see the sadness in his eye and you feel that large hole in your stomach ready to eat you up.

Jimmy, even in death, got what he wanted. The confusion and hurt that he tried to inflict on your relationship finally found you both.

"You make me happy, Grant. You'll always make me happy. I'm so glad you still love me because I always loved you, even when I thought you were gone for good," you clarify. You gently hold his jaw and have him look at you. "I'm just not happy with what's happened to us. When they first told me I lost you, I thought I was going to die. And those days when you came back...and the fight to keep you alive and to keep you with me..." your voice trails off.

You stay frozen in this position before you feel him wrapping one arm around your waist, being you as close as you can be to him. "Okay," is all he can manage to say. It was filled with so much weight yet understanding.

"You conquered the Tuplar and we can conquer this," you quietly to him.

For once, neither of you knew what this entailed but you also know that when his co-pilot would crash their ship, he didn't know he'd find his way home and you both didn't know that you'd be sitting outside like this. But you had your faith and hope in each other.

There isn't much to fear.

[limeinaltime]

Made an updated ref sheet for Aster since I hated her old one and her lore's changed a lot since then.

Some notes on her under the cut

Her eyes would've stayed a dark brown until she was 20 if she hadn't experienced her first "death" at 19.

The lore about her parents hasn't changed, they still suck and treated her horribly and were in on Urbanshade's plans for her.

The community she grew up in only treated her well when they wanted her blood, but their abuse and ostracizing led to her ability kicking and and causing people to die. She stopped giving blood altogether after a very traumatic experience.

Aster was one of the nine casualties that Sebastian was blamed for, and she was also the one who turned in the evidence proving his innocence.

SebAster college romance still canon babeyyyy. He vaguely knew she was not entirely human but both didn't care and didn't think about it too much since Aster's just weird anyway lol.

Had anomalous traits long before Urbanshade, they became more prominent once she turned 20. Her tail came in during her time in the Blacksite.

Aster's anomaly was initially intended to be solely passive and for healing (none of the previous Z-777 instances were fighters aside from Z-777-1), but Aster was given a natural ability to fight. She came out of the womb knowing how to kill, but her kind natures combats that... sort of.

Her organs and blood do still kill people if taken from her through force or violence.

Every time she dies, a crystal comes out of her body, usually her stomach or chest. Its properties are unknown, although Mr. Shade claims the crystals can be used to bring back the dead if Aster becomes powerful enough, hence why the experiments are so brutal. Every death makes her stronger, after all.

Basically if V1 was a woman and a human and could heal with her blood as well.

She can still kill people if they took her biomass through force or cruelty. The effects vary but are always lethal. Woe, instant appendicitis be upon ye.

She gives off warmth and comfort when she touches people she trusts thanks to the nature of her anomaly. Best way to describe it is like comforting nostalgia for something in your past that made you feel safe.

Not much of a brawler, but she is very fast and agile and her kicks and bite pack a punch. Quiet a few employees are missing fingers or even whole hands because of her.

The tentacles on her back basically function like the Tokyo Ghoul kagunes and retract into her back when not in use. The thickness and length depend on what she's using them for and are very flexible and strong.

Absolutely shines with firearms due to her own upbringing. She can use the ferryman tokens to ricochet bullets off them since she doesn't really need them to come back from the dead.

Aster can't give people immortality no matter how powerful her anomalous properties get. She could bring someone back from the razor's edge of death, but once someone is dead, it's beyond her power to save them.

"The Huntress" is her true title, "The Cure" would've been her official title if she wasn't a weapon of the divine.

"Laika" is basically a deadname, don't call her that.

[nguyenfinity]

In 2018, I made Fight Kiddo as a way to vent frustration with some stuff, but I didn't know what to name her 'cause I didn't really wanna call her Fight Kiddo the entire time. I ended up naming her after my grandma, an incredibly kind and loving lady who would not put up with people's bs.

She passed away year ago today (or. a year and a day ago today because tumblr formatting decided to be difficult, sorry) and like. When I say my 2022 sucked I mean like I caught covid the day before she passed away so for me it was just. Yeah it sure was a summer. It was a rough time to say the least but kept the fight goin huh?

I wanted to bring Fight Kiddo back to honor her namesake in a way, and though I can't do much else now besides draw this for her, I do thank you so much for reading along <3

Con vẽ cái này cho bà ngoại, con nhớ ngoại nhiều mà con mong ngoại thích nhe.

[twigstarpikachutroll22]

it seems like some people in the owl house fandom still need to hear this

Guys.

The Owl House is not going to end with Luz leaving the Boiling Isles behind and living in the human realm.

Luz has established so much of an actual whole life in the Boiling Isles, none of which can be easily left behind.

Take her relationship with Amity. Remember what Luz said to Amity when first asking to date her? She said "I don't know what my future's going to look like, but it would be so cool if you were in it." Does that seem like it would remotely make sense, after that, for it to just...end? With the two possibly never seeing each other again?

Her learning to be a witch too. It's such a big part of the show, the amount of time that’s been dedicating to her wanting to learn magic, to her finding the glyphs and teaching herself how to use them, developing and honing her skills with them, and that she’s fully enrolled in a school for magic too. It honestly feels very much like a whole life-ambitions thing. It would make no sense for her to just go back to a world where none of the skills she's spent so much time and effort learning can be used and just. Stay there.

The Owl House never felt like it was trying to send any anti-escapism message or anything like that. Luz hasn't treated the Isles like they're just a way to live out her fantasies and escape reality for a long, long time. Arguably since the beginning, even. She said in the first episode that it wasn't the PG fantasy world she'd always dreamed of. And the fact that her life on the Boiling Isles isn't some escapist fantasy has only gotten more and more clear over time, it's been pointed out by plenty of folks in this fandom before.

Honestly, everything Luz has gone through on the Boiling Isles and everything she's been doing there feels like putting down roots and charting out a whole life course there. And The Owl House overall has always been very much about making one's own decisions, deciding one's own future. There've been long text post essays on that. That's what Luz has been doing this whole time, and she's been doing it within the context of the Boiling Isles. It includes her mom, but it also includes everycreature she's come to know and love in the demon realm and everything she's been learning to do there, none of which would be applicable back on Earth.

Not to mention her mom is literally the ONLY thing she’s ever expressed wanting to go back to in the human realm, and we’ve known for a long time she was bullied and ostracized there, and in Thanks To Them Camilla’s nightmare flashbacks and some of Luz’s video diary entries only drove it in even further just how out of place she always was in the human realm. She’s more accepted on the Boiling Isles by now than she EVER was in the human realm. On her mom’s doorstep after the events of King’s Tide, she said “I’m back.” She didn’t say “I’m home.” When she did say “Yeah. I’m home.” after Camilla said she was glad Luz was home, I don’t think it could’ve been much clearer in her voice or her face (which the screen took a moment to fully focus on) that those words didn’t feel true to her.

When Luz DID decide in Thanks To Them that the best course of action for her would be to stay in the human realm, this was framed as being entirely wrong. Partly because it was out of a false belief that she would be of no help and only made people’s lives worse, and partly because it was very much established how she did not belong in the human realm. Camilla clearly knew Luz staying in the human realm wouldn’t be right as soon as she heard Luz say this. Her immediate and wholehearted response was “No, no way in heck am I letting you do that, don’t you even say that. You’re going back there, and now that I’ve seen what you’re up against, you’re taking me WITH you.”

Nothing about The Owl House feels like it’s leading into Luz saying goodbye to the demon realm and going back to living the rest of her life in the human realm. It would make no sense for the show to end like that, and everything about the show feels deliberately built up in a direction that goes completely against ending like that.

So yeah. Anycreature who’s been worrying about this, you can relax.

[july-19th-club]

every time you went to hug her she'd try to tickle you (as far as i remember, this wasn't something she used to do when i was younger and she was all there; the tickling was like an exclusively post-dementia thing - maybe as her ability to communicate diminished, it was a way she could still tease people and goof off with them). she lost something like a hundred pounds or more in the last five or ten years of her life, just kept shrinking and shrinking. when i was little she was plump and fat and had a round, full face and round full hair and a bristly chin that there's a copy of on my own face now. she had lost many teeth even before i was born, and lost more throughout the course of my life, but it didn't diminish her tastes or love of wine and food in the slightest. she was the platonic ideal of an italian grandmother to me, big and bustling. i don't remember the smell of her perfume. her style ethos was that if you had your lipstick on, you could go out and be dressed up no matter what you were wearing or how old your clothes were. she never learned to drive (her kids periodically tried to teach her, but she always got the gas and brake mixed up). when i want to think of her now i think of her at the end of the table in my mom's house, with a loud, gap-filled laugh, telling my parents about what such-and-such a neighbor was up to while my grandfather and his bushy tobacco-y yellow beard sat next to her. i will think of the books in her back bedroom, which i sat on the floor to read every visit as a kid. i will think of the way she'd shuffle down the hallway at five in the morning in her delightful, grandma-in-a-cartoon getup - frilly nightgown, fuzzy, worn, blue robe and slippers - to start the coffee. she'd watch the morning over pappy's garden in the sunroom, and my mom would join her - insomnia, so she'd always be up whenever grandma started banging pots and pans around. i'd stay curled up in the guest bed, with the wobbly round post that could pop on and off, and read her giant sherlock holmes anthology that lived on the bookshelf in there. my mother's childhood illustrated hobbit, also on that shelf. a two-thousand-page, enormous, annotated, unabridged shakespeare that is now in my parents' house because it's too big for my own shelves. if appetite for literature can be inherited i know exactly where i got it. my god, to sit at the little glass-top table with the vinyl tablecloth at seven in the morning, all the wide windows in front of us, sun coming up. birds crossing past. balcony and morning glories. the smell of tetley tea.

[andvys]

You said you were gonna grow up (then you were gonna come find me) ⭐︎ S.H.

⭐︎ Warnings: slight angst, mutual pining, idiots in love, childhood best friends to lovers, allusions to cheating (but not really), mentions of sex, mentions of unrequited love, hurt/comfort

⭐︎ Summary: You and Steve used to be inseparable, best friends since childhood, you shared something special, something rare. You promised each other forever but... promises are never to keep... right?

⭐︎ Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

⭐︎ Word count: 10k

⭐︎ Author's note: To my Steve girlies who have read (and still mourn) I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss -- in the middle of writing this little oneshot, I noticed that Steve and reader reminded me of someone, and then I realized that it's basically Steve and Cheer in a different universe (if Steve hadn't fucked up as badly as he did). This is... what they should have been.

Also shoutout to @hellfire--cult for inspiring me to finish this oneshot (finally) and @ghost-proofbaby thank you for picking a title for me, and for your sweet words about this little piece, you're both the bestest

⭐︎ my library

divider by @saradika (I screamed when I saw the folklore dividers)

♡

The smell of weed and smoke lingers in the air, music blares through the house and bounces off the walls, laughter and giggles come from every corner, conversations he couldn’t care less about yet listens in on because what else is there to do at a party? 

Steve once found himself at home in such gatherings, now he feels nothing but bored as he watches the people instead of interacting with them like he once used to do. 

He used to be on the dancefloor, at the keg stand, pressing some girl against the wall and kissing her neck before taking her upstairs into one of the empty bedrooms – but those days are long over and they are not to be missed, not in the slightest. 

Now he is sitting out in the backyard of some stranger’s house, sipping on a lukewarm soda and waiting for Robin to get sick of this party so he can take her home before going to his empty house and crashing out on his new bed. Seeing as she’s jumping around on the dancefloor with Vickie, it doesn’t seem like she'll want to leave anytime soon. 

 A sigh falls from his lips and he slumps his shoulders in boredom. 

He could be socializing, talking to girls, flirting with them, with the ones who keep waving at him and sending him suggestive, overly sweet looks – he isn’t interested. The past few months were wasted ones, disastrous dates, one or two meaningless hookups, girls who weren’t interested in him but only in sex – that was his reality and he didn’t want that anymore, he doesn’t want that anymore, he wants something real, he wants to feel something, he wants someone to want him for more than just that one thing, he wants a connection, a bond, he wants… you. 

Steve’s lips part, his eyes lighten up, glowing just like the stars in the night sky, he sits up straighter and cranes his neck to see you better, his heart skipping in a way it hasn’t in a long time, he forgot what it feels like… but of course you are the one to remind him of the way his heart can skip and flutter when he feels something, you have always been the one, the only one. 

Not even Nancy could make him feel half of the things you could make him feel. 

But he blew his chances with you – the only chances that ever mattered. 

He hears your laughter, your beautiful giggles that he missed every day since you left, even from all the way here, he can hear the voice that accompanied him throughout most of his life… until it didn’t. 

You were his best friend, the only friend that mattered until he found Robin. You were with him from the moment your mothers introduced you both to each other, joined at the hip, you went through it all together, different hobbies, different friend groups, first crushes and rough school days, arguments with so called friends, first parties, first drunken nights, you went through so much and you did it all together, you experienced everything together. 

Steve would sneak into your room, late at night, he would use the vines on the wall as a ladder, no matter how many times you scolded him, he still climbed up because he wanted to see you so desperately, even when he spent the whole day with you, it just wasn’t enough, you’d spent the nights whispering and talking about the newest gossips, sometimes he would paint your nails or braid your hair, sometimes you would just lie next to each other and listen to some new album and sometimes you would cuddle and fall asleep in each other’s arms, it was a regular thing, it was something constant. 

But then something changed, you both got curious, you both started acting upon feelings that have been there for a long time already, feelings that were no longer innocent and childish turned into something more. 

You were each other’s first kiss, it was nothing more than a peck at first… and then it was a second and a third before you kissed for real. And then, it was just another regular thing, you started cuddling and kissing every night, smiling and giggling through it all, holding hands and pulling each other closer and closer. 

Those innocent kisses turned into makeout sessions and those turned into your first time. 

It was his first time and yours, you shared it with each other, like you shared everything else together. 

It was filled with nervous giggles, blushing cheeks and shaky touches, you were both scared to do something wrong but you assured one another and you both did your best, he took care of you and you of him. It was slow, it was soft, it was perfect. A night he will never forget. 

Nothing ever came close to this moment, nothing came ever close to how you made him feel. 

Steve should have asked you out after that night, he should’ve, but he didn’t, he chickened out, he got scared and he left the next morning without saying goodbye. That was his biggest mistake. 

To this day, he doesn’t know how you felt about it all, you never spoke of this night again, you never mentioned it again, you both acted like nothing happened, you continued your friendship like you didn’t ruin it. 

He kept coming over, everything stayed the same… but it didn’t. 

You started slipping away from him and he was too busy to notice, he became captain of the basketball team, girls started noticing him, he started going on dates even though you were all he could think about, it felt wrong to hold their hands, to kiss them, to touch them, he felt as though he was betraying you but his new friend Tommy encouraged him, spoke lies into his ear about how you went on dates on the nights you canceled on him. 

He was hurt, he was angry, and it only was a matter of time before he invited a girl who wasn’t you into his sheets. 

He hated how he felt afterwards, but he didn’t stop, he kept going and before he could even blink, he was the most popular boy in school, he was King Steve, the guy who could have anyone but still only had eyes for one. 

Though your shared nights became less frequent, you still spent time with him, even when you weren’t fond of Tommy and Carol, his big parties or the way he treated girls, you were still there and it bothered him that he couldn’t have you. 

It was clear that you didn’t feel the same, despite the many signs that he had missed at that time. He was your best friend, just your best friend, just Steve. He could’ve made a move, he could've asked you out on a date, he could’ve finally confronted you about your night together and how you felt about it, how you felt about him, but he was scared and it was ironic really, because he was good with girls, very charming and cocky, smug and arrogant but not with you, no, not with you. You made him nervous, you made his chest feel weird, his stomach too, you made his heart race and flutter, you made his skin feel hot and his mind all crazy. 

You got him bad. 

You made him fall in love. 

But he was a coward when it came to his feelings for you, he really was, he didn’t even want to admit them to himself, so he watched you slip through his fingers instead of taking action and making you his. His feelings got stronger despite the distance that slowly grew between you.

You were still there, physically, but your mind was somewhere else and you seemed so far away.

He left notes in your locker, just like he did when he was a kid. 

And you did the same to him. 

You waved at each other from afar and shared smiles, you still drove around town and sang along to your favorite songs after an occasional trip to that one diner out of town, you sometimes slept over and left your sweet scent on his pillows, driving him crazy with it. You were still each other’s best friends. 

But then Nancy stepped into his life and that was it, at that point, it was already crumbling, your friendship was hanging by a thread and it earned its final blow when you moved away for college. 

Occasional calls and letters were all that existed between you at that point, it drove him crazy, it made him sad. He suffered heartbreak when you were gone and you weren’t there to mend it, you weren’t there to hold him, to wipe his tears and tell him that he would be alright – how could you? You were the reason for that heartbreak and Nancy was the one who gave him the final push to open his eyes to the feelings he kept pushing away and feeling so scared of. 

When he realized what a mistake he had made, it was far too late to fix it and he never stopped regretting the actions he took and didn’t take. 

But now you are here, you are back. 

He hasn’t heard your voice in so long, he hasn’t seen your beauty in forever, he missed your presence so dearly. 

One year, one whole year without you. 

Are you here to stay for the summer or are you back for good? He hopes it’s the latter, this town felt anything but home without you here. 

Steve stares at you, he stares and stares without shame. His lips are curled into a soft smile, his cheeks already blushing as he takes you in. 

You are so gorgeous. 

A confident smile is lingering on your lips, your makeup is a little bolder than it used to be, back then, but it suits you, your skirt is short, your top is tight, your cleavage is showing and your skin is glowing, your hair is much longer than he remembers it to be, a few highlights added to your pretty hair color and styled into waves. 

You have always been a sight for sore eyes, he was aware of your beauty from a young age, he called you his princess, his sweet, cute and beautiful princess. But you are more than just beautiful now, you are stunning, bewitching, you are heavenly. 

His heart jumps at the sound of your giggle, his skin heating up so rapidly that it catches him off guard. 

Steve watches you, he watches for what feels like forever, you’re here with friends, girls you used to hang out with back in high school. 

The smile never leaves his lips as he keeps his eyes on you, his heart fluttering more and more each passing second, eyes continuing to light up at every sound of your giggle. 

When you step away from your friends and walk back into the house, he wastes no time to follow, grabbing the chance that he once missed, he goes after you and leaves his drink abandoned on the floor. 

He brushes past a group of guys playing beer pong, dodging the dancing people on the dancefloor, keeping his eyes on your body as he follows. Your skirt is swaying, your waves are bouncing, your hips are shaking slightly, your sweet scent lingers in the air and he can’t help but inhale it deeply, it’s still the same scent that he missed on his pillows and the hoodies you used to steal.

With your back turned to him, you stop in front of the snack table and pour yourself a cup of the overly alcoholised punch. 

Steve doesn’t approach you right away, standing by the doorway, he decides to watch you for a second longer, feeling giddy and nervous now that he is so close to you again. 

You nearly choke on the punch, the bitter taste of alcohol overpowering the fruity taste, you scrunch your brows together and swallow it down in disgust, unimpressed by this drink after all the different kind of cocktails you have tried in the past months on your night outs to bars with your girlfriends from college. 

A sigh falls from your lips and you take a second, much needed sip. 

It feels weird to be back home in Hawkins, the town is much quieter than the big city you called home for the past year and you feel that weird tingly shudder on the back of your neck, knowing that he is so close somewhere. 

Steve. 

You miss him so much, you miss him everyday, but it’s been so long, you can’t even remember the last time you have talked to him. You know that he still works at Family Video and his friend Robin moved into his house with him after his parents moved away from Hawkins, for good. 

But that’s all, you don’t know if he is single or if he is dating – you fear your heart wouldn’t take the information very well, which is ironic really, you haven’t seen him in so long, all you have are your memories, some of which you kept in a shoebox under your bed, pictures, notes, letters and little presents from him. Steve was nothing but a ghost these past months and yet it didn’t stop your heart from falling deeper in love… even with just the boy in your memory, the one that will haunt you for the rest of your life. 

A sigh falls from your lips as you look down at the red beverage in your cup, you close your eyes and take another sip and swallow it but this time in delight, you welcome the burning in your throat. 

“You still make that cute face when you don’t like something.” 

The voice you have just been thinking about sounds deeper than it did when you left. 

Those shudders at the back of your neck, run down your spine and transform into heat across your whole body, your heart skips a few beats.

You turn to face him, sloshing the drink around in your cup, you nearly spill it on the white tiles beneath you. Your breath hitches in your throat and your chest tightens when you look at him for the first time again, those hazel eyes that you have missed so much staring back at you with excitement yet nervousness and you have no doubt that your own eyes match the look in his. 

Your lips curl into a shy smile, your cheeks heat up so quickly and you nearly crush the plastic cup in your hand when you let your eyes roam his body. He somehow got even taller, his arms look stronger and his shoulders wider, his hair got longer too, a spitcurl hanging over his forehead, his cheeks are rosy, a stubble covering his jaw and chin, your eyes move down his arm, stopping at the black hair tie around his wrist that momentarily steals your breath away and fills your chest with hope. You lick your lips and swallow as you stare at the veins in his hands. 

There he stands with his stupid, still perfectly styled hair and his Levi’s that are always way too tight around his crotch, looking down at you and reminding you of how much taller he is and always was. 

“Hey,” he breathes, nervously, happily. 

“Steve,” you say with a smile on your lips, “hi.”

Truthfully, Steve doesn’t know what to say, your heart is beating so hard, he can feel it in his throat, he feels so nervous, you make him nervous. His charm, his flirtatious side still fades into nothing when he is around you and the world around him still disappears when he is with you, some things truly never change. 

He wants to take a step closer and wrap his arms around you, he wants to hug you and never let go again but he doesn’t want to overstep so he forces himself to stay in place. 

“Y-You’re back,” he smiles, trying to hide his excitement. 

You nod, probably a little too quickly. 

“Yeah, I’m back,” you nod again, feeling awkward and tense standing here before him after all the countless nights you spent thinking, dreaming about him. 

He breathes heavily and fidgets with the hair tie around his wrist, “for the summer or…?”

You shake your head, unable to look away from his beautiful eyes. 

“No, I-I transferred to uh the community college here…” You scrunch your face up when you see the surprised look on his face. “I know, lame right? Moving away from Chicago and back to your hometown is uh not the.. move.” 

Not the move? He repeats in his head. 

This might be the best day of his life – the day he had been waiting for, for your return. 

Steve’s eyes widen, he purses his lips as he starts shaking his head, raising his hand a little, he steps closer to you. 

“No! No, I’m just surprised, that’s all, I didn’t think you’d ever come back… honestly,” he chuckles nervously and brings his hand up to scratch the side of his neck. “But I’m happy to see you back here again.” 

Happy is an understatement, the feelings in him can’t be put into words, they do not exist. 

Your eyes soften at his words, your smile transforming into a soft one, hope swirling inside of you. 

Did he miss you like you missed him? 

“I’m happy to see you,” he adds, his cheeks heating up at his admission and your beauty doesn’t help his case, his eyes roam your body, your pretty features, your soft skin, the chain around your neck that looks oh so familiar, his heart starts beating faster, his hands shaking from the giddiness lingering in him. “Y-You look…” Stunning, mesmerizing, gorgeous, sexy, adorable, like an angel or a goddess. “Amazing.” He breathes, blushing red.

Your eyebrows pull together as your wide eyes fill with emotion. 

You see the way he looks at you, you see the redness in his cheeks, the shyness in his eyes that surprises you the most. 

You take a shaky breath, cursing at the way your cheeks heat up and glow so hotly. 

“Thank you,” you say without stutter, to your own surprise. “You don’t look bad yourself, Harrington,” you smirk at him, smugness taking over your blushing features when you see him looking down in nervousness. 

Did you just make Steve blush? 

You open your mouth again, feeling the urge to compliment him again when a whistle interrupts you and wipes the smirk off your face, instead a look of disgust takes over your features when you turn your head to see Tommy Hagan looking you up and down with a perverted smile on his face. 

He pushes his way between you, earning a glare from Steve, whose face turned stone cold and angry. Tommy grabs a red solo cup and pours himself some of the punch while he continues to give you nasty looks, chuckling when looks at your cleavage, “shit, now I get why Harrington always kept his favorite toy to himself,” he smirks and takes a sip of his drink before he steps back to wink at Steve, wiping his chin and looking back to you, “you really grew up.” 

Your lips curl downwards, your brows pull together in a frown. 

“Dude, what the fuck,” Steve frowns at him, giving him a disapproving look. 

Tommy always made you feel uncomfortable with his comments and his weird looks, but it was something else back then. This is new, this is disgusting. 

“If I knew back then that you were hiding these behind your sweaters, I would’ve definitely hit it,” he chuckles darkly as he stares at your boobs. 

Bile rises in your throat and your grip tightens on your cup, the urge to throw your punch into his face growing strong. 

Steve rolls his eyes, a frustrated sigh falls from his lips and he steps towards his former friend, he places his hand on his chest and pushes him back as he takes a protective stance in front of you, protecting you from Tommy’s prying eyes. 

“Alright, that’s enough, asshole,” Steve mumbles angrily. “Leave her alone or I swear to–”

“You swear to what, man? You and I both know you can’t do shit,” Tommy laughs at Steve, his eyes crinkle in amusement, irritating Steve further. 

Steve might’ve lost most of his fights, but he wouldn’t lose one if it came to you. 

He clenches his jaw and glares down at him, feeling rage burn within him. 

“Seriously dude, get lost, alright?” He demands, his voice sounding deeper, more serious than before. 

You look over Steve’s shoulder, feeling safe and protected by him, the way you always did, just even more now. Your stomach flutters with warmth, your heart swelling in your chest. 

To your surprise, Tommy steps away without another word, continuing to chuckle at Steve and the glare on his face. He gives you another look. 

“Call me if you–”

“Fuck off, Tommy,” Steve says through gritted teeth, feeling hot rage flushing through him. 

Tommy takes another sip as he walks backwards, winking at you before he finally turns around and leaves the kitchen, allowing you to finally breathe. 

Steve runs his fingers through his hair and huffs, turning back to you, his features instantly soften. 

“I’m sorry about him.” 

You shake your head, your smile reappearing again, “it’s not your fault,” you shrug, “some people just never change.” 

“Yeah…” He mumbles, wondering if you changed at all, “did you?”

Did you change? You ask yourself. Maybe, surely college has shaped you in some way, being away from home, being independent and all alone, meeting new people and being pushed into situations you would have never allowed as a teenager, did change something in you. 

You got more confident, a little bolder too, you tried new things and did them without shame, something that was once impossible when you were still here and an insecure teen. 

You tilt your head to the side and give him a sly smirk, “why don’t you find out?” 

The anger Tommy left him with fades away, the flirtatious tone in your voice catching him by surprise and you take it even further when you take a step closer to him after placing your drink on the counter, you look up at him with your big eyes that still drive him crazy. 

He doesn’t remember you to be this flirty… this bold but he can’t complain, it makes the fluttering in his stomach feel so much more intense. 

Steve’s lips curl back into a smile, he blinks at you, looking into your eyes intensely, with want and need – nothing changed, if anything, the magnetic force between you has intensified, even when there was mostly only radio silence between you both in these past months. 

Steve licks his lips, a sliver of his confidence slipping back in when he sees the way you look at him, eyes roaming his face and his body. Though his cheeks are still burning and his heart is still racing, no matter how much confidence he can find within himself, you are still you, you are still the girl that holds his heart in the palm of her hand, the one who has him captivated in every way possible, the one who has had him wrapped around her finger, from a very young age. You aren’t just a girl to woo and impress for a single date, you aren’t someone he would forget if a conversation or a date went wrong, you are the one he always wanted to grow old with, to experience everything with, to spend a life with the one who is his everything – one wrong move and he loses it all… again. 

He doesn’t bother to ask if you are with someone, if you are dating and taken, the thought is disturbing to his heart. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asks as he slowly reaches for your hand and you allow him to take it when you slip your palm against his and give his hand a squeeze.

He nearly crumbles to his knees when he feels your soft touch again, it’s been too long. Your hand always fit into his so perfectly, like it was made to be held by him. 

You nod, whispering a sweet ‘yes, please’. That’s all he needs to hear before he pulls you closer to his body, pushing you in front of him slightly, keeping a protective stance right behind you as he never lets go of your hand, basking in the feeling of having you so close again, of being able to smell your perfume again and the sweet scent of your body wash. 

He rubs circles on the top of your hand, pressing his other hand on the small of your back as he pushes through the crowds of people. He leads you to Robin first, needing to make sure that she will get home safe without him. He finds her playing beer pong with Vickie and a few of their former bandmates from high school. He taps on her shoulder and when she turns around, Steve grows more nervous than before, because her eyes grow wide when she sees you next to him, excitement flashing in them and a big grin appearing on her face after a long moment of staring at you. 

She knows all about you. 

She knows all about his feelings and his regrets. 

She knows how much he missed you. 

She was there when he cried and never stopped talking about you. 

So after greeting you, probably a little too enthusiastically, she moves closer to Steve, raising her eyebrows at him and giving him a teasing, yet pointed look. 

“Go and don’t worry about me, Vickie can drive, she’s not drinking tonight.”

“You sure?” 

She nods, her waves bouncing as she moves her head a little too quickly. 

“Steve I’m fine, go and get your girl,” she winks at him, squeezing his shoulder before she moves back, giving him another look that says nothing but ‘i mean it, don’t fuck it up this time, this is your chance.’ 

Steve nods at her, smiling and feeling reassured by her. He holds your hand tighter and pulls you away before you can properly say goodbye to his friend that you only know from your days in high school. You look back at her to find her staring at the two of you, grinning from ear to ear, she raises her eyebrows at you, eyes glowing as she gives you a smirk and a small wave of her hand. 

You feel a little confused by the teasing look on her face but smile and wave back at her nonetheless before Steve whisks you away and out of the room.

It isn’t weird to hold each other’s hand, to be back together in his car like nothing ever happened, like you never stopped doing this, like things are still normal between you. He makes small talk, it’s not awkward or weird, it’s… nice, anything is as long as you’re with him, even the silly jokes makes or how he tries to quote Shakespeare but fails miserably, he makes you laugh and you… you make him smile. 

You stop by the gas station to grab a six pack and some snacks to share before you drive to the lookout, to the place you always went to when you wanted to be alone together. 

You get comfortable on the hood of his car, as comfortable as you can get on the rough surface. It’s a little chillier out here in the woods, the wind that blows through the trees makes goosebumps arise on your skin. Steve, of course, has to use the opportunity to throw his jacket around your shoulders, rubbing your arms to warm you up as he moves close enough for you to feel his breath on your skin. 

You feel something stir within you, something only ever he could make you feel. 

You grab the denim and pull it tighter around you, glancing at him through your lashes, you feel your cheeks heat up when you find him staring at you already, a soft smile playing on his lips that you can see, even in this darkness. 

“Thanks Stevie.” A grin tugs at your lips when his smile moves into a flustered one. 

Steve licks his lips, he removes his hands from your body and busies himself with opening the beer bottles for you and him, “you’re welcome, honey,” he whispers, winking at you. 

You look away from him with blushing cheeks, hiding the smile on your face as you tilt your head down but nothing goes unnoticed by him, he sees the flustered expression in your features, the cute smile you’re trying to hold back. 

He scoots closer to you until his shoulder is pressed against yours, he offers you the opened bottle. You glance at his hand, taking in the size of it, how big it is, how his veins pop, how long his fingers are – it makes you squirm and clench your thighs together and he notices it, he looks down and he almost regrets it, almost. Your skirt has ridden up, it nearly covers nothing, at this point. Your skin looks so smooth, thighs so soft, he wants to touch them, kiss them, feel them wrapped around his head. 

His skin heats up, his lower stomach tingles, he craves you, in every way possible, he just wants to… feel you, he wants to feel you close, he wants your skin on his, he needs to know that you are truly back. 

Your touch sends shivers down his spine, it makes his stomach flip. 

He blinks, looking down at the bottle he is still holding, watching the way your hand curls around it, fingers grazing his own. Your hand is so much smaller than his, the urge to compare the size of his own to yours growing strong. 

“Steve?” 

Your soft voice pulls him out of his thoughts, he blushes, cheeks burning maroon. He shakes his head a little, squeezing his eyes shut as he furrows his eyebrows, he removes his hand from your bottle, already missing the touch of your hand. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs as he runs his fingers through his hair, “I got a little uh… distracted.” 

He instantly regrets it when his eyes fall back on your lap again, your giggle makes him blush even deeper, he eyes you from the side, watching the way you press your lips against the bottle, you take a sip, trying to hide the smirk on your lips. 

He feels a sudden sense of nervousness rushing through him – here he is, in the presence of the girl of his dreams, the girl that slipped through his fingers, the girl that should be his and he is messing up. He begins to stutter, trying to distract himself once again, this time from your legs, from your soft skin, from how much he wants to touch and kiss you, from how beautiful you are but you make him stutter, you make it difficult for him to talk, you make it impossible for him to be smooth, to flirt with you the way he always did with other girls and suddenly, he is reminded of why he was always so scared of revealings his feelings to you, there was too much at stake, he didn’t want to lose you. 

He always felt so pathetic around you, like a stupid kid in love, one that can’t talk to his crush without blushing, without stuttering. 

And this is exactly what you always adored about him. 

But he doesn't know it, he doesn’t even realize it, he doesn’t even see the way your eyes always light up, the way they soften as you look at him, the way you admire him. 

Before he even takes a sip of his beer, he already feels like he is drunk, his skin is hot, his mind hazy, he feels happy, at ease, like he is floating, all because of you, you make him feel so… light. 

He is drunk on you, without having touched you properly, your presence is enough. 

He wonders how you are holding up, what emotions linger inside of you — you look so calm, relaxed. 

You fall into a comfortable conversation, catching up on the things you have missed in each other's lives, since being separated. And while your eyes stay glued on the night sky, only glancing at him every once in a while, he watches you, with a fluttering feeling in his chest and a smile on his lips. 

You laugh with each other, getting lost in the memories that you both start bringing up, joking and slapping each other’s shoulders softly as you start to tease one another about the stupid things that you both have done in the past. 

You have changed, not only physically did you get even more beautiful, you got something that you didn’t have before, a boldness that you always admired others for. You used to be so shy, anxious to ask the simplest questions, too nervous to hold eye contact for longer than two seconds, even with him, sometimes. But now, despite you choosing to look at the sky instead of him, he can tell that you are not that shy girl anymore, who was afraid to look into his eyes. You are confident, comfortable in your own skin, not afraid to be you, not afraid to gaze into his eyes when you tilt your head to look at him. 

He wonders what or… who caused it, the change in you. 

Was it just the circumstances? The big city that pushed you out of your comfort zone? 

New friends? Being on your own? Or… was it the experiences you have made in these past few months that have shaped you from an innocent, shy teenager into a confident, young woman? 

His stomach churns at the thought of the things you have done while being away from home, or better yet, who you have done them with. He has no right to be upset about it, he knows it, yet he can’t stop the sinking feeling inside of him as he thinks of the hands that have touched your body or the lips that kissed yours, if you had dated someone, if you are someone else’s right now. 

The question tumbles from his lips before he can even stop himself. 

“Do you have anyone?” 

The storm that was just raging in his mind, the string of questions that followed now silenced as he stares at you, waiting for your answer with a racing heart and clammy hands. 

The sound of crickets and the rustling of the trees are the only sounds now filling the space around you.

“You mean… a boyfriend?” 

He nods and you shake your head at that. You bring the bottle up to your lips, taking a much needed sip. 

“No, I don’t,” you murmur as your eyes roam his face, “why?”

You notice the frown on his face, the way his lips are curled down and his eyebrows are tightly scrunched together. 

“Just wondering… someone like you still single?” 

“What do you mean…?” You ask slowly.

Steve huffs, shaking his head with a smile on his face. 

“I mean… Come on, honey. You’re funny, you’re smart and you’re just… you’re amazing,” he sighs adoringly, hazel eyes running up down and your face and your body. “You’re beautiful, a fucking catch.”

You almost want to scoff at his words, you want to roll your eyes and look the other way. A catch, right. A catch he never wanted. Your heart betrays you when it flutters and prompts a girlish giggle to fall from your lips. 

“Stop.”

He nudges his shoulder against yours, grinning at your flustered face, “it’s the truth.”

Steve feels relieved to know that you don’t have anyone waiting on you, that there isn’t some guy out there that got the girl he always wanted. 

“You have to say that,” you shake your head and drink the last drop of your beer before you throw the bottle down on the grass, making a mental note to pick it up later. 

Because he is your best friend, because he was always your best friend, no matter what – so of course, he has to say these words to you. 

He rolls his eyes at you, huffing, “I’m not just saying that.” 

You try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, the way his words can make you feel like that shy teenage girl again, you try to steer the attention away from you. 

You press your palm against the cold, almost icy hood, leaning back, you tilt your head to the side and gaze at him, loving how long his hair grew, how his features are more… manly now, though the boyish grin still lingers. 

“What about you?” You whisper, swallowing the bitterness on your tongue. “Got anybody, Stevie?”

He shakes his head quickly, almost frowning at your question. 

“Me? No… no one really… felt right.” He says with a look of longing in his eyes, the one that is only reserved for you. 

The tension in your chest disappears, almost instantly, you have an idea of what you would feel like had the answer been a different one. 

“I was seeing a girl… for a while but uh… like I said, it… she didn’t feel right,” he admits with a nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

You nod, swallowing harshly. 

“Why didn’t she feel right?” You’re aware of how small, how shaky your voice sounds. 

You wait, wait and wait for him to answer your question, the answer he tries to find in your eyes as it seems because he won’t stop looking at you, it’s like he is searching for something, like he is trying to figure you out, like he is trying to make sense of the question you just asked. 

He doesn’t give you what you want, as always, Steve Harrington pretends like nothing happened, like nothing had been asked. 

But you know what he means, you know exactly what he means, you had someone too, back in Chicago. 

He was nice, he was good to you, in more ways than just one but no matter how much you tried not to think of him, you always failed. He was always there, always in the back of your mind, always ready to haunt you and remind you that he is and will always be the only one that your heart will belong to. 

Your relationship was only short lived, and you left him the moment you realized how unfair it was to stay with him when your heart was somewhere else, when you couldn’t stop thinking about Steve. 

Something rustles in the bushes, something echoes loudly through the woods, something that would have normally made you flinch, doesn’t even faze you now because he is here. You feel safe in his presence, you always did, not even the darkest night or the loudest storm could make you feel afraid as long as he was by your side. 

And yet, you scoot closer to him, not even noticing that you do until his fingers brush against yours and sparks shoot through your entire body. 

And through his. 

You clear your throat and take a deep breath, “yeah… I had someone… but he didn’t feel right either.” You say softly, vulnerably as you meet his eyes again. 

A soft ‘oh’ leaves his mouth and he nods, looking down at the bottle in his hand, he brings it up to his lips and downs the rest of it. He feels his stomach churning, his insides crawling at the mere thought of you with someone who isn’t him and it makes him feel awful, it makes him feel ridiculous because wasn’t that his own fault? He blew his chances with you. He let you go, hell, he didn’t even fight for you. 

He puts the bottle down, wipes his mouth and runs his fingers through his hair before he turns back to you to find you staring at him just the way you always did, with your big doe eyes, those pleading and begging looks you never stopped throwing at him. 

He’d have to be blind to not see it – he always did, he just never allowed himself to admit it, not even to himself, not even when you were all he ever wanted. 

“Why didn’t he feel right?” 

Steve watches the way your lips curl downwards, the way you squint your eyes at him, the softness fleeing as you glare at him instead.

And suddenly, the air around you feels different, tense for another reason, heavy and filled with something neither of you ever addressed before. 

While you take deep breaths, trying to calm yourself – Steve tries to mend the aching in his chest, the hammering that feels just too strong. 

“Why didn’t she feel right, huh?” You ask, scooting away from him and getting off the hood, placing your feet back on the ground, you don’t even bother to smooth down your skirt. You cross your arms over your chest and stand in front of him, demanding the answer you tried to ask softly before. 

Steve sighs, growing fearful and anxious, feeling like he is messing up yet again, like he is about to lose again. 

But you are close, so goddamn close, even through the anger in your eyes, you still stand in reach, your knees now brush against his. He straightens his back, fighting the urge to reach for your hands and just pull you into him, showing you why no one ever felt right. 

He promised Robin, he promised her that if you ever came back, he would go and get you, he would come clean about it all, he would make it all right again. 

“This goes both ways, Steve. You can’t just ask me and then–”

“Because no one is you.”

He won’t fail this again, no matter how scared he is, he just can’t. 

Your lips part in surprise, a painful look crosses your eyes, though the anger doesn’t fade away just yet. You uncross your arms, and shake your head at him. 

His words should bring you joy, shouldn’t they? 

But as you stand here before him, his knees brushing your own, his golden brown eyes staring at you with nothing but love, you can’t help but feel your heart aching because why now? Why not then? 

“So… it took me to leave town… go to college… for you to say this?” You whisper, holding back a choke as your eyes well up with unwanted tears. 

His own eyes panic when he sees just how much pain there is inside of you, how much you hid it. He reaches forward, taking your hand in his, he sighs in relief when you don’t push him away like he thought you would. 

“It was always there. Before our first kiss, before our first time, and then it never stopped. But you were… you were scary. Feeling love that strong at such a young age– it wasn’t in my plans. I was scared… I was scared of loving you and losing you. It happened before.” 

His parents. 

He loved them unconditionally, he loved them no matter what they did and didn’t do, he loved them and he lost them – they abandoned him and then they forgot about him. 

Your eyes show nothing but pain, your heart breaks, all over again, for him. 

And you’re stunned, so goddamn shocked because that word fell from his lips. Love. He loved you. 

You curl your hand around his, squeezing them tightly as he gets off his car, standing tall before you again. 

“You… still could have–”

“Risked it?” Steve interrupts you, furrowing his brows as he looks down at you. “No… I wasn’t going to risk it. Risk losing you…” He scoffs, shaking his head at himself, “now I see how stupid that was because I lost you anyways.” 

His eyes well up with tears, his voice almost cracks and you finally… finally get to see a glimpse into his heart, how much pain he was always hiding.

“No… I don’t think you lost me.”

“Honey, we haven’t talked in–”

“What you felt for me… Is it… Is it past tense?” 

Steve should see the hope in your eyes, he should hear it in your voice too, but he is so scared, so nervous at this moment. 

Everything he had always been afraid of was losing you because of his feelings and he can’t help but wonder, what if he confesses his love to you now and his saddest fear creeps in and he will lose you for good, forever? 

“Why do you want to know?” He asks, shakily. 

You hold his hands tighter, taking another step closer until you are chest to chest. You close your eyes for a moment and take a deep breath, you look up at him, begging with your eyes, yet again. “Because I deserve to know, Steve, do you still have feelings for me?”

He takes a long pause, feeling like his heart might explode, feeling like the ground might disappear beneath him if he doesn’t finally give you the whole truth. 

His eyes flicker down to your lips, the ones he craved to feel on his own for years, his body aches for you just the way his heart does, desire running deep but love taking full control, driving both his heart and his mind insane over you. He feels the pounding from his chest to his throat, his eyes glossy with tears he shed so many times over you, over his regrets. 

“Yes,” he whispers, already feeling his chest deflating as the pressure slowly sinks away, “like I said, they never stopped.”

Tears spill down yours and his cheeks, his shoulders slump in relief and you, you finally breathe. You sniffle and a giggle falls from your lips, one that makes him furrow his brows but smile because now he can see the happiness in your eyes, the joy from hearing this from him. 

“Oh, thank god,” you whisper and throw your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek against his chest, you hug him tightly, catching him off guard. 

It takes him a moment, it takes him a very long moment. 

His glassy eyes are wide, his heart is threatening to break free from his chest. He wanted this, he wanted you for so long, he feels like this is too good to be true but when he feels your tears seeping through his shirt and how you cling to his body, like you are afraid that he might disappear if you let go, he finally relaxes. His eyes close gently, tears spilling down his cheeks, he melts into your touch and curls his arms around you, cupping the back of your head, he holds you closely, tightly. 

“I missed you so much,” he whispers into your hair, pressing his lips to the top of your head, he gives a first kiss again. 

“I missed you, Stevie,” you murmur into his chest, holding onto his shirt. 

He moves even closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck as you rise to your tippy toes, wanting to feel more of him, as though he isn’t close enough already, not even when your chest to chest. 

Steve breathes in your scent, the one he used to sink his face into when it still lingered on his pillows, when he longed to feel you in his arms, when he craved you so badly but felt too cowardly to make the move he just made now. 

You cling to one another, like you never have before, not even when he held you during nights you needed him the most, when you were both so convinced that you were nothing more than friends… when just friendship was never something possible between you. 

Steve’s eyes are shut tightly, he is so lost in the feeling of you, feeling so warm, so safe, so loved in your embrace. 

How can his heart race so fast yet feel so… calm? 

You don’t know how much time passes as you stand there in each other’s arms, you are so lost in the moment, you couldn’t care less about anything around you, about the time, about your surroundings, about the world – only you and him matter, nothing more. 

He cups the side of your face when you begin to pull away to look at one another, glossy eyes gazing into each other, lips begging to be connected. His fingers brush through your hair, he tucks your front pieces behind your ears and caresses your cheeks. His hazel eyes flash with adoration. You are so beautiful. It makes his heart clench in his chest.  

You slide your hands up his chest, moving up to his neck and cupping his cheeks, your stomach growing with anticipation the closer you both move to each other. 

No words are spoken, there is no need for them, your eyes tell everything, just like your touch when your lips finally connect. 

Your hearts stop beating, time stops ticking, the world stops moving. 

Everything around you stops. 

Just absolutely everything. 

Your eyes flutter shut, just like his. 

A kiss you both never stopped craving finally happening, not only in your minds, but in reality. 

Steve sighs in contentment, a whimper following close behind, your lips move slowly, softly with each other, you savor each and every second, even when you know that this is only the beginning of it all. 

Nothing and no one could ever compare to this, no one could ever come between you, you are two puzzle pieces, ones that were made for only each other, no one else to match you both. It’s only you and him. Your hearts know, you know, he knows. 

The way he kisses you so gently, so sensually, makes your stomach flip in ways it never did before, not even back then when you shared first and second kisses. 

And Steve, he feels like he is in a dream that he never wants to wake from again, he is too scared to open his eyes and find himself in his lonely bed, surrounded by the scent of you that he only imagines, that forever lingers like a kiss upon his skin. 

But your whimper is real, your lips are real, you are real, your lips taste just like they did before, sweet and peachy, like home. 

You only pull away to catch your breath, smiling when Steve chases your lips with his own, nuzzling his nose against yours as a soft giggle falls from his puffy lips, “god… I missed you, princess.” He murmurs against your lips, knowing that he will keep repeating these words, over and over again, he feels like he has been blessed by the universe. 

Your best friend’s eyes shine so brightly, the love in them that you always craved to see, is so evident, it’s all out in the open now, all in reach, all there for the taking – when not even a few hours ago, you didn’t even know where he was, if he still thought of you, if he still cared for you… 

Tears escape your eyes and he wastes not second to catch them, to wipe them away and kiss your wet cheek. 

“Please don’t cry,” he whispers, feeling like his heart might break, knowing that you have suffered just the way he did, when he thought that you moved on, that you had forgotten all about him just like everyone else did when that was never even the case, when all you did was long for him, love him, even from afar. 

“I love you,” he whispers in relief, feeling like the weight of the world is off his shoulders, “I love you so fucking much, you’re my–”

You cup his cheeks and pull him down once again, kissing him deeply. “You.” Kiss. “Don’t.” Kiss. “Know.” Kiss. “How.” Kiss. “Much.” Kiss. “I.” Kiss. “Dreamed.” Kiss. “Of.” Kiss. “This.” Kiss. “Moment.” 

Steve's heart flutters the way it never did before, butterflies go wild in his stomach, his eyes crinkle and he smiles so brightly, his cheeks hurt. 

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips, “I love you so much, Steve Harrington, you have no idea how much–”

His lips are on yours, pressed against them so strongly as he pulls you into another deep, passionate kiss before you can even finish your sentence. He kisses you in a way no one ever did before. 

His thumbs linger on your cheekbones, his tongue parts your lips so effortlessly, your own clashing against his as the softness of your feelings disappears and transforms into something needy, hungry. This kiss is much faster, much rougher, much more passionate than the first, you get lost in it so quickly. 

When he takes a step back and he sits back down on the hood of his car, he moves his hands down to your waist, pulling you in between his legs. 

Your arms move around his shoulders, your hands get lost in his hair, fingers gripping it tightly as moans escape you. The kiss makes you feel so hot, your stomach burns, your skin feels like it’s on fire as his hands move up and down your back, slipping underneath his jacket that is still around your shoulders, under your shirt and then, he touches your soft skin with his cold hand, something that makes you shiver yet lean closer against him. 

He moans against your lips, he is so intoxicated by you, needing more and more, like you’re his own personal drug. He could keep doing this, he could take you right here, right now. He could taste you, unravel you with his tongue, with his fingers, he could hold your hands and make love to you like he always wanted to, like he hoped he’d get to tonight – because he thought that this might be all he would get, a night with you, only that and no more, because how could you ever want anything more than this with him after all the times he messed up with you? After he let you slip through his fingers like it was nothing?

But this won’t stay a single night, this won’t be one that will haunt him for the rest of his life. 

This will turn into more, so much more. 

He doesn’t want to mess it up again, he wants to take it slow, he wants to give you everything you deserve, everything he craved to give you, all these years, everything he dreamed about, during the day and the night. 

So as much as he wants this, you, your bare skin on his and your whimpers blessing his ears, you deserve more, you deserve to be taken on a date first. 

“Hang on,” he whispers against your lips, cupping your cheeks again, his lips curl into an amused smile when he opens his eyes to see your smudged lipstick that is no doubt on his face now too, your hair a mess just like his own, “I want to… fuck… I want you so bad, I couldn’t stop thinking about this, about you. But I want to take it slow, I-I want to do it right this time, I want to take you on a date and–”

You cut him off with a kiss, once more. Pressing your lips against his plush ones, over and over again until it makes you both giggle. He grabs your waist and pulls you down on his lap, grabbing your cheeks, he presses his forehead to yours.

“Slow is good,” you whisper, caressing his cheek as his fingers run up and down your spine underneath the denim jacket. “I like slow.”

“Yeah?” He smiles.

You nod, though an almost sad smile makes its way on your lips, “you know, I kinda thought you forgot about me until all of this.” You wave your hand around, wiping at your wet cheek as a soft laugh tumbles from your lips. 

You weren’t the only one who stopped calling, who stopped sending letters, he did too, but not for the reasons you thought, clearly. 

A deep frown appears on his face, he tightens his hold on you, raising his hand up towards your face, he cups your cheek. Despite everything he just said, despite the kiss, you still don’t understand just how deep his feelings for you are, how his heart isn’t even his own because it is completely, devotedly yours. 

“I could never forget you,” he whispers with a sad smile on his face, “you’re all I ever think about, now and then, even when we were kids, even when I was… King Steve,” he rolls his eyes at the nickname he used to be so proud of. “You never once left my mind, not once.” 

The smile that makes his way to your lips makes his heart skip a beat, he kisses your cheek, letting his lips linger for a moment. 

“So please, let me make it right, let me fix everything… go on a date with me?” He asks with nothing but hope in giddiness in his voice. 

You squint your eyes and tilt your head, giving him a teasing smile as you pretend to think but his soft eyes make your teasing an impossible task at this moment, you wipe the lipstick off his mouth and nuzzle your nose back against his. 

“I would love to go on a date with you, Stevie,” you whisper, feeling your heart burst from joy and love. 

The one thing you always wanted, you always craved now finally happening, at a moment when you least expected it. 

Coming back home made you so nervous, knowing that you would see him again after all this time of being apart, knowing that your feelings will only continue to grow, no matter the tie between you, filled you with a sense of… dread, because you couldn’t help but wonder – does he even want to see you? 

But, to find out that he had spent every passing moment, thinking about you, about your past, wanting you back and willing you to come running back into his arms lights up everything inside you again – flames you have tried to put out, burning stronger than ever. 

Steve’s eyes well up with tears of joy again, he cups the back of your neck, his lips brush against yours, he can’t even describe his feelings with words, so he doesn’t even try, but he shows you the happiness you brought back into his life, the happiness that was just gone when you were… gone. He kisses you, once, twice… He keeps kissing you, over and over again, unable to stop himself from going back in for more, consumed by love, by gratitude and happiness to know that you came back. 

To know that you won’t haunt his what if’s. 

He won’t chase your shadows wherever he will go. 

Your scent won’t linger from just his memory alone. 

He waited and waited, and he let the lamp burn and now… now you are here, you came back, you came back to him. 

Here, at the lookout where you used to sit on your saddest days, you find your way back to one another again. 

As you embrace the future written for you, you know that the rings on your fingers won't only be imaginary ones like the ones from your childhood. 

[kerflooey]

@gravewalks ♡

The bell dings! – though she’d wanted a moment alone more than anything this morning (just five minutes!), out of all the familiar silhouettes that could be inside the elevator already, this is one of the better options. “What’s the youngest children are allowed to go to jail?”

She steps in, her heel clicking just as she likes – it’s all in the small comforts. It’s honestly a miracle she’s made it out of the house at all, with the night of crying because the stuffed elephant (Rupert? Herbert?) wasn’t ‘stuffed right’ even though that stuffing had been the same for fourteen months.

Not to mention there hadn’t been any grapefruits for breakfast and no, God forbid any other fruit dare make its way into Rose Weissman’s plate. Not even orange, which is practically the same. “Three, it has to be three.  The famous terrible two? Very soft foreplay. It should be illegal for them to be out any time before five.”

She takes a deep breath, the perfect scent of unnecessarily overcleaned carpet making her feel better already. Back in civilization. A smile, and she’s ready to turn to him. “And yes, good morning, Percival.”

[fullsunstrawberry]

Falling for the Enemy (M)

Synopsis: Caught in a toxic relationship with a manipulative and cheating boyfriend, you find solace in his enemy, Donghyuck. What starts as a vengeful fling turns into something more, and old feelings start to re-surface.

Genre: enemies with benefits?, childhood friends fallout, slice of life, angst, a lot of fighting, fluffy end, SMUT MDNI!!

Warnings: swearing, haechan getting into a fight, please guys don’t fight lol, helping clean up after a fight, jealousy, cunnilingus, blowjob, teasing, ex knowingly watching, no condom mentioned (stay safe yall), the pull out method (pls be safe), use of the words hot seed, cum, cock.

Word Count: 18.5k

A/N: Shout out to my lovely 💚anon for this one!! After some internet troubles, it’s finally out now :) Please let me know if there is anything funky about this (I write on google doc and copy and paste it on Tumblr and sometimes it fucks up the format or doubles paragraphs)

Marketing would be a fun class if it wasn't for the pain that decided to sit next to you every single class. 

"You’re no better than your stupid boyfriend!" Donghyuck's voice cut through the air, his tone filled with disgust.

"Just shut up!" you snapped, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment. Why did he have to make things so awkward?

Donghyuck, or Haechan as he insisted on being called now, was someone you hadn't seen in years. You used to be close friends back in middle school, basically best friends. But then life happened, and you had to move away. You two were so young that you couldn't even stay in touch through social media. Only a promise that you two would find each other later on. 

Now here you two were, reunited in college, but things were different. Haechan was no longer the sweet boy you once knew. He had turned into an arrogant jerk, who wouldn’t shut the fuck up. 

Throughout the class, you couldn't shake off the discomfort of sitting next to Haechan, especially after his rude outburst. But beneath the cocky smirk on his face, you couldn't shake off the feeling that missed your friend that was long gone. 

You would never tell anyone that you missed your childhood friend. Especially not any of your new friends, who also hate him. Chenle, Jeno, and Jaemin all would jump at the chance to wipe that little smirk off his face. 

Your best friend Chaeryeong was the only one who knew about your past with him. She's the only person who you could never lie to. She always had your back, so you will always have hers. Even if she hates your boyfriend, Jay. 

Well, most of your friends hate your boyfriend... Jaemin has even tried to talk you into breaking up with Jay. But “pussied out” as Chenle would say when he saw you were starting to tear up.

Jay was your first boyfriend. You learned how to deal with all of his flaws…Everyone has flaws so why is it so bad for him to have some…okay a lot of flaws. But he’s sweet to you!

You sat through the rest of the class with clenched fists, trying to focus on anything but the awkward tension that clung to the air between you and Haechan. His outburst still echoed in your mind, chewing at you. “You’re no better than your stupid boyfriend”. 

Once everyone started to pack their bags, pulling you from your thoughts, you quickly gathered your things, hoping to escape before Haechan could throw another mocking remark your way. But, as expected, he would always be a little shit.

"Running away already?" Haechan’s voice was teasing, but there was something beneath it, something sharp that cut through the cocky tone. "Gonna run back to your little boyfriend."

You spun around, eyes glaring, ready to fire back, but then you caught Haechan's expression. It wasn’t that usual smug grin he always wore. Instead, there was a hint of vulnerability that almost made you stop. Almost. But just like that, it disappeared, and he was back to his old self, smirking like nothing had happened. Typical.

"Maybe you should shut up for once, Donghyuck," you shot back, emphasizing his old name, hoping it would sting. 

His smirk faltered. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but you saw it. Something about calling him “Donghyuck” felt like a small victory. You were pretty sure the boy you once knew was entirely gone. 

You turned on your heel and walked out of the classroom, leaving Haechan behind. As you made your way to the dining hall, you spotted Chenle and Jeno lounging on one of the benches, chatting. Seeing them made you feel more at ease. You needed a distraction. Anything to get your mind off that annoying encounter.

"Y/n! Over here!" Chenle called out, waving his arms dramatically. "Where's Jaemin?."

You shrugged, still shaken by your fight with Haechan. "I haven’t seen him. He’s probably sleeping through his class again."

"Or he got into another fight because of your boyfriend," Jeno added, his eyes holding a seriousness that made your stomach twist. You knew your friends didn’t like Jay, but you wished they could just let it go. 

"Can we not do this today," you muttered, dropping your bag next to Chenle and sinking onto the bench. You didn’t have the energy to get into another debate about Jay right now.

Chenle nudged you playfully. "Come on, we’re just looking out for you. You deserve someone better than that guy."

"Yeah, someone who's not a total asshole," Jeno chimed in. "Like, seriously, what do you even see in him?"

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Instead, you stared off into the distance, your thoughts spiraling. It wasn’t just about Jay—it was everything. The awkwardness with Haechan, the tension with your friends, the pressure to hold everything together when you felt like you were starting to unravel.

“He’s sweet…” You trailed off, your words sounding weak even to yourself. Was Jay sweet? Or was that just the version of him you had convinced yourself to see?

Chenle raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Sweet? You’re joking, right? The same guy that has to approve your outfits when you go out."

You shot him a look, but he continued, persistent. "I’m serious, Y/n. There’s ‘sweet’ and then there’s whatever Jay’s doing to you. You deserve better."

Jeno, who had been scrolling through his phone, suddenly locked eyes with you. “You think this is what love’s supposed to feel like? Constant stress? Us having to break up fights Jaemin gets into because of Jay? You don’t look happy.”

That last comment stung more than you expected like an arrow hitting its mark. Were you happy? Or had you just grown used to the chaos?

Your silence was telling, and your friends exchanged worried glances. Chenle let out a dramatic sigh and pulled out his phone, probably ready to change the topic, when you heard the sound of footsteps approaching. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Hey, what’s up, guys?” Jaemin's voice was casual, but when he turned to you, his expression hardened a little bit. “Jay’s looking for you again, Y/n. He’s upset about something."

You felt your stomach drop. Of course, he was upset about something. Jay was always upset about something. And it was always your job to fix it, to calm him down, to make everything right.

Chenle clicked his tongue in disapproval. “See? You can’t even breathe without that guy hovering around. He’s suffocating you.”

Jaemin sat down next to you, his tone softer now. “We’re not trying to gang up on you, Y/n. But this… this isn’t normal. It’s not okay.”

You clenched your fists, feeling the weight of their words pressing down on you. You wanted to defend Jay, to tell them they didn’t understand him the way you did. But deep down, you couldn’t deny the truth of what they were saying.

“I’ll talk to him,” you muttered, standing up. You didn’t wait for their response as you walked away, feeling their eyes on your back. You knew they were worried, and maybe they had every right to be. But you couldn’t just walk away from Jay. You didn’t know how.

As you made your way toward the campus courtyard, your mind wandered back to the class with Haechan. You couldn’t shake the image of his face when you called him Donghyuck. But you couldn't let it affect you. He probably did it on purpose so you would overthink and feel bad.  

Lost in thought, you almost didn’t notice when Jay appeared in front of you, his face twisted in frustration.

“Where the hell have you been?” he snapped, his voice low but harsh. “I’ve been calling you.”

Your stomach turned, and you immediately braced yourself for whatever fight was coming next. "I was in class. What’s wrong?"

Jay let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair. "You didn’t tell me you were sitting next to him again." He spoke with clear disapproval, his gaze burning into yours.

“Him?” It took a moment before you realized he meant Haechan. “Jay, it’s just class. The professor didn’t let us pick where we could sit.”

“That’s not the point, Y/n.” He stepped closer, his expression darkening. “I don’t trust that guy, and I don’t like you being around him.”

“Jay, it’s not like that—”

“It better not be,” he cut you off, his voice laced with an edge that made your skin crawl. “He’s a shitty person, he’s just trying to get to me.”

The words hung in the air. You knew Jay had a jealous streak, but this felt different—darker, more possessive. And for the first time, you felt a tinge of fear.

"I—I have to go," you said quickly, your heart pounding as you stepped back. You didn’t wait for Jay to respond. You couldn’t. Your feet moved on autopilot, moving away from him. 

But as you hurried through the campus, a sinking feeling settled in your chest. You didn’t know where you were running to—only that you had to get away from yet another fight. 

Choosing to buy some coffee, you push open the local café on campus. The familiar chime of the café door was a welcome sound, cutting through the fog of your jumbled thoughts. The smell of roasted coffee beans and fresh pastries welcomed you as you stepped inside. You spotted an empty table in the corner and made a beeline for it, craving to be away from everything. You ordered a simple iced latte, hoping the cool drink might calm you down. 

As you waited for your coffee, you buried your face in your hands. Why did it always have to feel like this with Jay? Why did every conversation leave you feeling smaller, and more insecure about yourself? Your friends were right but you didn’t know what to do. 

But what could you do? You couldn’t just walk away. You loved him… didn’t you?

Before you could spiral any further, the barista called your name, pulling you from your thoughts. You grabbed your coffee and took a seat, letting the ice clink against the cup as you swirled it absently. 

The door to the café swung open again, noticing it was Haechan you hid your face with your hands. Not wanting to deal with him again. 

He walked in, his eyes scanning the room before they landed on you. For a moment, he hesitated, then made his way over to your table.

“You’re in my spot” he stated, his tone sharp. You stared at him, unsure of what to say.

You hesitated for a moment, did you really want to start a fight right now? “I don’t see your name on it.”

Haechan slid into the seat across from you, leaning back in his chair as if trying to gauge your mood.

“I’ve never seen you here,” he started, running a hand through his hair. “What’s wrong?”

You blinked, caught off guard. This wasn’t the Haechan you were used to—the cocky, arrogant guy who seemed to enjoy making your life miserable. Where is the teasing?

“None of your business,” you muttered, staring into your coffee cup, avoiding his gaze. The last thing you wanted was to bare your soul to Haechan of all people. You didn’t need his pity, and you certainly didn’t need him to insert himself into your problems. He would use any information to torment Jay, which would just start an even bigger fight between you two. 

But Haechan wasn’t easily deterred. “You don’t have to tell me, but I’m not an idiot. You look like a kicked puppy.”

There he goes, mocking you even at your worst. But he caught you off guard by how well he could read you. To most people, you probably look like a tired college student, normal. But for some reason, Haechan could tell there was something wrong. 

You shook your head. “Why do you care, Haechan?”

He rolled his eyes, leaning forward on the table. “Maybe because it’s not fun to tease you when you’re already miserable.”

You flinched. His words struck deeper than you expected. Did it show that much? Did everyone see it—how exhausted you felt, how tightly you were hurt from trying to keep everything together? You opened your mouth to retort, but no words came out.

Haechan sighed, looking away for a moment before meeting your eyes again. 

“Haechan.” The barista called out. 

Haechan got up and grabbed his drink before asking something you couldn’t make out. You watched him as he left, not sparing you another glance. 

You sighed out, of course, he doesn't care. He’s probably high on seeing you this miserable. 

But before you could throw yourself another pity party, the cafe doors slam open and a concerned-looking Chaeryeong comes rushing in.  

“Y/n!” Chaeryeong’s voice cut through the noise of the café as she rushed over to your table, her face a mix of concern and urgency. You barely had time to brace yourself before she slid into the chair across from you, eyes scanning your face for answers.

“What’s going on? Haechan just said you needed me.” Her tone was low but insistent, probably thinking this was a plan made up by Haechan, trying to get under your skin again. 

You exhaled slowly, trying to gather your thoughts. “It’s… nothing. Just another argument with Jay.” 

Chaeryeong frowned, her brows knitting together. "Another argument? Y/n, you’ve been having a lot of those lately."

You shook your head, trying to dismiss her concern. "It’s just a misunderstanding. He got upset about me sitting next to Haechan again. He thinks it’s some big deal, but it’s not."

"Jay seriously has issues if he’s getting worked up over something like that." Chaeryeong’s voice was firm, but there was a softness in her eyes like she was trying to tread carefully. "You know this isn’t normal, right?"

You looked down at your iced latte, feeling the familiar swirl of guilt and confusion rise. You loved Jay—at least, you thought you did. But lately, everything felt like a battle, and you were always on the losing side.

 "It’s fine," you said weakly, though the words felt like they were collapsing in on themselves. "He’s just... protective."

Chaeryeong let out a sigh, her frustration barely concealed. "Y/n, there’s a difference between being protective and being controlling. I hate seeing you like this. It’s like you’re always walking on eggshells with him."

You didn’t respond, unable to meet her gaze. The weight of the conversation was suffocating, but you couldn’t deny the truth in her words. Jay’s jealousy had started to bleed into every part of your life, and it was exhausting.

After a moment of silence, Chaeryeong leaned forward, her voice softer. "You don’t have to keep defending him. I know you care about him, but... is he making you happy?"

That question lingered in the air. Was Jay making you happy? Or were you just holding on to the idea of what you thought love should be?

Before you could answer, Chaeryeong reached out and squeezed your hand. "You deserve better than this, Y/n. You deserve to be with someone who makes you feel safe, not stressed out all the time."

You swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. "Can we switch the topic, I don’t want to talk about this right now," you whispered. 

Chaeryeong’s grip tightened on your hand. "You don’t have to figure it all out right now. Just know that you’re not alone, okay? I’m here for you."

You nodded, grateful for her support, but still feeling lost in the mess of your emotions. The tall barista came up to your table with a plate of red velvet cookies. 

“Um, here you go….” He sat them down on the table in front of you.

“Wait! I didn’t pay for this.” 

The barista gave you a small, almost shy smile. "Don't worry about it. They're already paid for." Before you could ask any more questions, he walked away, leaving you and Chaeryeong to exchange confused glances.

Chaeryeong raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to examine the cookies. "Who do you think...?"

You didn’t have to guess for long. So that’s what he was asking the barista. You blinked, processing the moment.

Chaeryeong noticed too, her eyes narrowing. "Did Haechan just... buy you cookies?"

You shrugged, feeling more confused than anything. "I guess?"

Chaeryeong leaned back, a mixture of amusement and suspicion crossing her face. "Weird, right? I thought he was a jerk."

"Yeah... he is," you muttered, still trying to piece together Haechan's sudden act of kindness. It didn’t fit with the person you’d been dealing with all semester. 

But for right now, you weren’t going to overanalyze it. You had enough on your plate with Jay and the constant pressure you were under. Haechan's behavior would have to wait.

You broke the cookie in half and offered a piece to Chaeryeong, hoping to shift the focus back to something lighter. "Want some? Might as well not let them go to waste.

She accepted the piece with a small smile, though her gaze remained thoughtful. 

"You know, maybe he’s not as bad as we thought. Or maybe he's just a confusing guy." 

You let out a soft laugh, nodding in agreement. "That’s putting it lightly." 

But as the sweetness of the cookie melted in your mouth, the door to the café swung open again, and for a moment, your heart jumped, fearing it might be Jay.

But instead, it was Chenle and Jaemin, both of them scanning the room until they spotted you and Chaeryeong.

"Hey, there you are," Chenle said, sliding into a seat next to Chaeryeong. Jaemin followed sitting in the seat next to you, giving you a concerned look. "Everything okay?"

You forced a smile, trying to shake off the heaviness of the conversation. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just... needed some space."

Chenle raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced, but he didn’t push. Instead, he gave a playful nudge. "Well, we’re here now, so no more pity parties. Let’s get you out of this mess.”

Jaemin studied you for a moment before speaking. "We’re here for you, Y/n. Whatever you need." You nodded, feeling a small sense of relief. 

“Ooo cookies!” Chenle grabbed one without asking. 

“You even ordered yourself some of your favorite cookies…oh no this is bad” Jaemin continued, shaking his head with exaggerated seriousness. "Cookies are your comfort food."

Chenle, mid-bite, paused and raised his eyebrows.

"Wait, did something happen with Jay again?" His usual playful tone shifted slightly, concern creeping in as he glanced between you and Chaeryoung.

You sighed, feeling the weight of their questions. "It's nothing. Just... the usual stuff. He got upset about me sitting next to Haechan in class again."

Jaemin’s face hardened. "Y/n, that’s not nothing. He’s been doing this for a while now. Getting jealous and picking fights. It’s not normal."

Chenle, despite the cookie in his mouth, nodded vigorously. "Exactly! Why does it even matter where you sit in class? You’re not his property."

You glanced away, not wanting to meet their eyes. The conversation was heading in the same direction as before, and you felt that familiar knot of guilt tightening in your chest. 

After a moment of silence, Chaeryoung spoke up, “She didn’t even buy these cookies…guess who did.”

Chenle blinked, pausing mid-chew as he looked between you and Chaeryoung. 

"Wait, are you bragging about buying cookies for a heartbroken girl?" His voice was laced with teasing. She shook her head ‘no’ and Jaemin’s eyes narrowed in curiosity.

You hesitated, feeling a twinge of discomfort as you answered quietly, "Haechan."

Jaemin leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Haechan? He bought you cookies?" His tone was a mix of disbelief and a little bit of protectiveness.

Chenle stared at the cookie in his hand, then at you, then back at the cookie. "So, you’re telling me I’m eating Haechan’s cookies? They’re probably poisoned!"

"It’s not like I asked him to," you muttered, feeling the tension rising again. "He just… did."

Chaeryeong raised an eyebrow, a knowing look in her eyes. "He didn’t say much when he saw me outside of the cafe, just told me that Y/n needed me."

Jaemin’s frown deepened. "That’s weird. Since when does Haechan care about anyone but himself?"

You shrugged, still unsure of what to make of the gesture. "I don’t know. Maybe he’s just messing with me, trying to get under my skin."

Chaeryeong smirked. "Or maybe he’s trying to get you under him!"

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah right. He’s just... being Haechan, weird."

Chaeryeong’s energy shifted immediately, her smirk softening into a more playful grin as she leaned forward, practically buzzing with excitement. "Alright, enough of this! We need to get you out of here. You’ve been drowning in all this drama for too long.”

Chenle’s eyes lit up at the suggestion, already nodding in agreement. "Yes! A night out is exactly what you need. No Jay, no Haechan—just us having fun. There is a party at Mark’s place tomorrow night." He winked, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

Jaemin, though quieter, gave a nod of approval. "It could be good for you, Y/n. A break from everything."

You hesitated, a part of you wanted to curl up at home and avoid the world, but another part knew that maybe they were right. You needed a break from all the chaos.

"Alright, fine," you sighed, feeling the weight on your chest lighten just a little. "I’ll go to Mark’s party tomorrow."

Chaeryeong clapped her hands together, practically glowing with excitement. "Yes! It’s going to be so much fun, I promise! Just good vibes, and you’ll finally get a chance to relax."

Chenle grinned, "That’s the spirit! Plus, you know, it’s always a good time at Mark’s. Who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone new…"

Jaemin shot Chenle a look, silently warning him to tone it down, but Chenle just winked at you, clearly trying to keep things light.

You chuckled, feeling a small flicker of relief. "I’m not going to a party to meet someone, Chenle."

"Maybe not," Jaemin said with a small smile, "but at least you’ll be there with your friends, and that’s what matters."

The next evening, the air was buzzing with excitement as you stood in front of the mirror, eyeing the mixture of outfits Chaeryeong had scattered across your bed. She was currently looking through your closet, tossing out options as if she were styling a fashion shoot instead of just picking something for a party. 

“You need something bold but effortless,” Chaeryeong declared, holding up a black, form-fitting dress before shaking her head and discarding it. “Something that says, ‘I’m here to have fun, not to impress.’ But, you know, still impressive.”

You laughed, sitting on the edge of your bed as you watched her being dramatic. "Chaeryeong, it’s just a party. I’m not trying to walk a runway."

Chenle, lounging in the corner of your room, raised an eyebrow. "No, but you’re going to Mark’s, and there’s a difference. You’ve gotta show up looking good.”

You groaned as Chaeryeong shot you a knowing look. “You don’t want to walk in looking anything less than your best. Trust me, it’ll help you feel more in control." She pulled out a green silk dress from your closet, holding it up against you. "This. It’s perfect."

You looked at the dress, hesitant. It was beautiful. "I don’t know… it’s kind of a lot."

"Exactly," Chaeryeong said with a grin. "You need a lot. Let’s remind everyone—including you—that you’re the main character tonight."

Chenle laughed, getting up from his spot. "You heard her. Tonight is your night to shine, Y/n."

Sighing, you finally stood up and took the dress from Chaeryeong’s hands. "Fine. Let’s do it."

An hour later, you were slipping on the last of your jewelry as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. The green dress hugged your curves in all the right ways, and the satin shimmered under the soft lighting of your room. Chaeryeong had helped style your hair, soft waves falling over your shoulders, and Chenle, surprisingly, had given his input on your makeup. A bold lip to contrast the simplicity of the rest of your look.

"Wow," you whispered, half in disbelief at how different you looked.

Chaeryeong stood beside you, grinning from ear to ear. 

"Told you. You look amazing."

Chenle nodded, leaning in the doorway. "Everyone is gonna wish they were with you."

You rolled your eyes, but deep down, a part of you couldn’t help but wonder. Would they? Would Jay? Or would you finally not care?

With a final glance in the mirror, you grabbed your bag, feeling a rush of determination. Tonight was about you.

As you made your way downstairs, the sound of music and distant chatter already filled the air. Chenle and Chaeryeong followed close behind.

Chaeryeong linked her arm with yours as you stepped outside, the cool night air brushing against your skin. “Don’t let it get to you, Y/n. Just have fun tonight. Remember, we’re here to enjoy ourselves.”

You nodded, trying to push aside the lingering thoughts of Jay and Haechan, and all the drama that seemed to follow them like a shadow. Tonight wasn’t about them—it was about you.

The drive to Mark’s place was filled with lighthearted chatter, Chenle and Chaeryeong alternating between playful bickering and hyping you up for the night ahead. But the closer you got to the party, the more you felt the familiar nerves creeping in.

“We’re here!” Chaeryeong’s voice cut through your spiraling thoughts, and you blinked as the car pulled up to Mark’s house. Music thumped from inside, and the soft glow of lights poured from the windows, illuminating the big crowd already gathered outside.

You took a deep breath as the three of you stepped out of the car, Chenle offering you a quick thumbs-up for encouragement. “Remember, main character energy. Let’s go.”

As you approached the front door, Mark himself appeared, grinning as he waved you inside. “Y/n! You made it!”

 He gave you a quick, welcoming hug before greeting Chaeryeong and Chenle. “The party’s just getting started. Drinks are in the kitchen, and the backyard is open if you want to chill.”

You thanked him and followed the crowd into the house, trying to shake off the remaining nerves. The music, laughter, and the buzz of conversation washed over you, helping to melt away some of your worries. Chaeryeong handed you a drink, her eyes already sparkling.

“Let’s go find somewhere to sit!” she said over the music, pulling you toward the living room, where a few familiar faces were already lounging.

But before you could get comfortable, your eyes caught a familiar figure leaning against the wall near the kitchen—Haechan.

 He was chatting with someone, but his gaze shifted just as you entered the room. For a split second, your eyes locked, and there was a flicker of something in his expression, though you couldn’t quite read it.

“Focus on having fun,” Chaeryeong whispered in your ear, snapping you out of your daze.

You smiled at her, grateful for the reminder, and nodded. Tonight was about fun. About letting go.

Jaemin and Jeno moved to form a spot where you could sit between them. You settled down, feeling a wave of relief as the two of them immediately began chatting, creating a comfortable bubble around you. Jeno handed you a drink with a reassuring smile.

 "Looking good, Y/n."

Jeno, always the more laid-back one, nudged your shoulder. "We’ll make sure you have a good time. No drama, no distractions."

You took a sip of your drink, nodding. Their presence was calming, a much-needed escape from the whirlwind of emotions you’d been feeling lately.

Chaeryeong and Chenle were already engrossed in a conversation across from you, laughing about something Chenle said, and for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to feel at ease.

Jaemin leaned in slightly, his voice low so only you could hear. "You look amazing tonight, by the way." He smiled.

You felt a warmth spread across your cheeks, and before you could respond, Jeno chimed in, as if reading the moment. "Jaemin’s right. That green dress is doing wonders."

You laughed, grateful for their compliments but not wanting to dwell on it too much. "Thanks, guys. I needed this.” You took a chug from your drink. 

Jaemin smiled softly. "We’re always here for you, Y/n."

You nodded, then stood up, smoothing down the hem of your dress as you glanced around the room. The music thumped louder as more people began to fill the space, and for a moment, you just stood there, letting the beat pulse through you. 

"Then let’s dance," you said, gesturing toward the group of people already dancing.

Jaemin grinned, standing up and offering you his hand. "Thought you’d never ask."

Jeno followed close behind, already moving to the rhythm of the music as you all made your way to the center of the room. The bass of the music vibrated through the floor, the lights flashing in time with the beat, casting colorful patterns on the crowd around you.

As soon as you hit the dance floor, the energy shifted. The three of you fell into the rhythm easily, laughing and letting the music take over. You spun around, arms raised, carefree.

"Now this is what I like to see from you," Jaemin said, leaning close so you could hear him over the music. You laughed, spinning around again, letting the moment take over. 

Your heart skipped a beat when your gaze locked with Haechan from across the room. He stood near the edge of the dance floor, leaning against the wall with his usual confident smirk. His eyes were focused intently on you, watching your every move. For a moment, everything else faded—the music, the crowd, even Jaemin and Jeno’s presence 

Haechan didn’t look away. Instead, his smirk deepened, almost like he knew something you didn’t, a silent challenge hanging between you.

Jaemin nudged your arm, breaking your concentration. "Hey, you good?"

You blinked, forcing a smile and nodding. "Yeah, I’m good!” 

The spot where Haechan had been standing was now empty, leaving you momentarily confused.

Jaemin noticed your brief flicker of confusion. “Looking for someone?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You shook your head quickly. "No, just... thought I saw something." 

Before Jaemin could say more, Chenle swooped in, pulling you by the wrist and pulling you towards him and Chaeryeong. “Come on! No more standing around, let’s get moving!” 

You let yourself be pulled into the crowd, trying to shake the image of Haechan from your mind.

Feeling a bit drained, you excused yourself from your friends and made your way to the kitchen in search of another drink. The party was packed, and the energy was starting to get overwhelming.

After a few moments of being bumped and nudged, you decided it was best to escape the chaos. With a sigh of relief, you slipped out to the backyard, hoping for a moment of peace away from the noise and crowd.

The cool night air greeted you as you stepped outside, the sounds of laughter and music fading into the background. The backyard was a welcome contrast to the chaotic energy inside. Strings of fairy lights hung above, casting a soft glow over the space and illuminating a few scattered chairs around a fire pit. 

You walked toward the edge of the patio, leaning against the railing and taking a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill your lungs. The stars twinkled above like tiny diamonds, and for a moment, you lost yourself in their beauty, feeling a sense of calm wash over you.

As you took a sip of your drink, you heard the door open and someone rushed out. Turning you saw Haechan. He was searching the backyard until his eyes met yours and he sighed, walking over to you.

“What do you want?” You rolled your eyes, already knowing he wasn’t the best company. 

“I know you don’t exactly like me” You scoffed as he put his hands up, telling you to wait, “But I hate cheaters, so I needed to tell you.”

You raised an eyebrow, skepticism written across your face. “Tell me what, exactly?”

Haechan leaned against the railing beside you, his expression serious, a stark contrast to the usual playful demeanor. “No, seriously. I just saw Jay go into a room with another girl.”

Your heart sank, the weight of his words crashing down. You took a moment to process what he was saying, anger and disbelief swirling within you.

 “Are you sure? That sounds like something you would say to mess with me.”

“I get why you’d think that, but I wouldn’t lie about something like this,” Haechan replied, frustration creeping into his tone.

 “I may not be your favorite person, but I wouldn’t do that. You deserve to know the truth.”

You swallowed hard, your grip tightening around your drink. The reality of the situation settled over you, and you could feel your heart racing.

 “Which room?”

Haechan hesitated for a moment, his gaze steady. “I don’t think you want to go in there.”

A bitter laugh escaped your lips, the kind that felt hollow. “Just tell me which room.”

Haechan glanced at you, a flicker of empathy crossing his features. “Upstairs, the second one on the right.”

You put your cup down and started to make your way back into the party in search of the stairs. 

“Are you sure about this?” Haechan, who you didn’t even notice was following, asked you. 

You nodded and moved quickly, your heart racing as you made your way through the crowd. The lively music and laughter faded into the background, drowned out by the storm of thoughts in your head. The dim lights seemed to press in, making your thoughts feel even more stressed.

As you reached the stairs, you hesitated for a brief moment, the weight of what you were about to confront hitting you like a ton of bricks. But the image of Jay with another girl flashed in your mind, fueling your determination. You needed answers. You needed to reclaim your dignity.

Going up the stairs, you felt your breath quicken. Each step seemed to echo with the anxiety of what lay ahead. Reaching the second door on the right, you paused, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You could hear muffled voices from inside, giggling mingling with the soft kissing. 

Throwing open the door you felt the air leave your lungs in a rush, your heart dropping as the scene unfolded before you. Jay was on top of another woman, his hands tangled in her hair, their lips inches apart.

Time seemed to freeze as Jay’s eyes shot wide open, and the laughter from the girl faltered into a shocked silence. 

“Y/n! I—” Jay stammered, scrambling to sit up, the realization of your presence crashing over him like a wave. 

You didn’t let him finish. “What the hell is this?” Your voice trembled, a mix of anger and disbelief swirling within you. The hurt was too much, twisting your stomach into knots.

The girl, wide-eyed and uncomfortable, quickly shuffled away from Jay, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson. “I didn’t know—” she started, but you cut her off.

“Save it,” you said, directing your fury back at Jay.

“After everything I’ve done for you.”

Jay stood up fully now, his expression shifting from shock to guilt. “I didn’t mean for you to find out like this,” he began his voice low, almost pleading. 

You turned your back towards him and rushed down the stairs. You could hear him following you. So you looked for any of your friends but couldn’t find them. Instead, your eyes connect with Haechans near the bottom of the stairs. 

Rushing over to him you pull him down by his shirt and whisper “sorry” before pulling him into a heated kiss. 

Haechan’s eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he responded, his hands finding your waist as he kissed you back with an urgency that matched your own. The chaos of the party faded into the background, the pounding music replaced by the sound of your racing heart.

But before it could get any farther, you were ripped away from Haechan by the sudden appearance of a familiar voice. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Jay’s voice cut through the moment, sharp and accusatory. You turned to see him standing there, his expression a mix of disbelief and anger.

Haechan stepped back, his demeanor shifting instantly from passionate to defensive. 

“Just what you were doing with that other girl,” he replied, his tone challenging. “Maybe you should have thought about that before you—”

“Don’t!” Jay interrupted, stepping toward you both.

“You have no right to act like the hero here. You don’t know what’s going on.”

“I know exactly what’s going on, so if you don’t mind we were kind of doing something”, Haechan shot back, his eyes narrowing as he stepped slightly in front of you, shielding you from Jay.

You could feel the tension in the air thickening. “Haechan, stop,” you said, placing a hand on his arm. You could see the fire in his eyes, but you didn’t want this to escalate any further.

Jay’s expression twisted with frustration. “You think you can just come in and play the knight in shining armor? She’s my fucking girlfriend!”

“And you think I care?” Haechan replied, crossing his arms defiantly. “You had your chance to treat her right, and you blew it.”

Jay shook his head, thinking about what to say next, but Jay was never good with his words so he stepped forward and swung.

Haechan barely had time to react. The punch landed squarely on his jaw, sending him stumbling back. You gasped, instinctively stepping between them, your heart racing at the sudden escalation.

“Jay, what the hell?!” you shouted, adrenaline rushing through you. “This is not how you handle things!”

Jay’s face was flushed with anger, his fists clenched at his sides. “He’s a fucking piece of shit!” he snapped, breathing heavily. 

Haechan regained his composure and moved around you, delivering a swift punch to Jay's jaw. The impact echoed, and Jay staggered back, eyes wide with surprise. 

As they started to throw punches back and forth, you didn’t know what to do. A group of people gathered around them. 

You saw Jaemin and Jeno pushing through the crowd, their expressions a mix of alarm and confusion. “What the hell is going on?” Jaemin shouted, his voice rising above the commotion.

“Y/n, get out of the way!” Jeno called out as he reached for your arm, pulling you back. You didn’t want to move, didn’t want to feel powerless while the two of them fought over you like you were some trophy for their ego.

“Stop it!” you shouted again, trying to push through the gathering crowd, but your voice was drowned out by the sound of fists connecting and the murmurs of onlookers. 

Jaemin managed to get closer, stepping between Jay and Haechan. As Jeno grabbed Jay from behind to stop him from throwing any more punches. 

“Both of you, enough! This isn’t the way to handle it!” 

Haechan, breathing heavily, stepped back, his fists still clenched. “He deserves this, Jaemin! He cheated on her!”

Jay looked furious, “This is all his fucking fault!” He spat at Haechan. 

You could see his expression begin to harden again, that familiar mask of arrogance threatening to resurface. Without thinking, you reached for his hand, gripping it tightly as you attempted to pull him away from the chaos of the crowd. 

Haechan looked momentarily shocked, his eyes widening at your sudden gesture, but he didn’t resist as you led him out into the cool evening air, away from the noise. As you stepped into the front yard, you pulled out your phone and ordered an Uber. 

“What are you doing?” Haechan asked, his voice low, and filled with confusion. His hand was still in yours, but he made no move to pull away, his gaze locked on your face.

You hesitated, the words caught in your throat as the reality of the moment started to sink in. What were you doing?

“I needed to get out of there,” you admitted quietly, your grip loosening slightly, but you didn’t let go.

His eyes softened, just a little, the hardness from earlier fading as he studied you. 

"Okay." 

Haechan sat down on the curb of the road and gestured for you to sit down next to him. 

You hesitated for a moment, then quietly sat beside him on the curb, the cool pavement grounding you. 

“So, how are we going to get back at him?” you asked, your voice low but edged with determination. 

Haechan turned toward you, eyes narrowing in surprise. “What?”

You met his gaze, a fire igniting within you. "Jay. How are we going to make him regret everything?" 

Haechan blinked, momentarily caught off guard. He studied your face for a long second as if trying to gauge whether you were serious. Then, a slow, knowing smirk curled on his lips. 

“Are you sure you’re ready to play that game?” he asked, voice dripping with amusement.

You held his gaze, feeling the weight of his question sink in. Was this really what you wanted? A part of you knew it was reckless, that using Haechan to get back at Jay could only make things worse. 

“I need to hurt him,” you replied, your voice steadier than you felt. “If he wants to treat me like I’m nothing, then maybe it’s time I show him I don’t need him.”

Haechan's smirk deepened, a glint of something dangerous flickering in his eyes. “Alright, then. Let’s make this interesting.”

Before the two of you could come up with an actual plan, the Uber showed up. You exchanged a quick look with Haechan before giving the driver your address. 

The ride was quiet, you could feel Haechan’s gaze lingering on you but you didn’t want to say anything so you settled for looking out the window. 

When the car finally pulled up in front of your apartment, you stepped out, turning back to wait for him. Haechan, still sitting in the backseat, raised an eyebrow.

“What?” he asked, his voice casual, but his eyes searched yours.

You gestured for him to follow. “Come on.”

For a moment, he hesitated, as if weighing his options. Then, with a slight shrug, he climbed out of the car, closing the door behind him.

“Is there a reason you’re taking me back to your house?” Haechan teased, his tone playful as always, though his eyes held a hint of curiosity.

You shot him a glance, rolling your eyes. “Look at you. You look awful, and I know you’re not smart enough to clean an open wound.”

Haechan smirked, following you toward your apartment door. “I didn’t realize I was so lucky to have a personal nurse.”

You ignored his sarcasm, unlocking the door and stepping inside. “Just sit down and let me handle it before you get an infection.”

As he walked in, his usual cocky demeanor softened slightly. He never thought you two would be talking again. Not after he was such a huge jerk to you.

He sank onto the couch, watching you as you moved through the small space, grabbing your first aid kit from under the sink. There was an awkward quiet that hung between you two, but you didn’t want to acknowledge it.

Returning to the living room, you set the kit on the coffee table and crouched in front of him, carefully opening it up.

“You know, I can do this myself,” Haechan said, but his voice lacked its usual teasing bite.

“Yeah, sure,” you muttered, reaching for the antiseptic.

“Like I trust you not to make it worse.”

He chuckled, though there was an unspoken tension behind it. As you gently cleaned the small cuts and scrapes, you couldn’t help but notice how quiet he had become, his gaze occasionally flickering to your face.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked after a moment, his voice softer than you expected. "I didn’t punch him because of you, I did it because he’s a jerk."

You paused for a second, looking up at him, your hands still resting on him. “It’s the least I can do,” you admitted honestly. “Since you told me.” 

Haechan sighed, his eyes drifting around your living room. His gaze lingered on the little details—pictures on the wall, the books stacked messily on the coffee table—before he turned back to you, something softer in his expression.

"Done," you said, pulling your hands away after finishing with his wounds.

He flexed his hand, testing the bandages, and gave you a small, almost appreciative nod. "Thanks..." His voice was low, the teasing gone entirely.

You just shrugged, trying to brush off the weight of the moment. "Don’t get used to it," you said with a small smile, but there was no real bite to your words. 

Haechan met your eyes, something unreadable passing between you before he looked away again. "I owe you."

“I will remember that!” you laughed, getting up from the floor and brushing off your pants. “I’m tired, you can sleep on the couch. I’ll bring you some pillows.”

Haechan watched you with an amused expression, his eyes glinting. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to crash on your couch.”

“Too bad,” you shot back playfully, heading toward the closet. “You look like you need the rest after everything. Plus, I don't want to be responsible for you bleeding out.”

“Fair point,” he conceded, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. 

You returned with a couple of pillows and a blanket, handing them to him. “Here you go.”

“Wow, you are going all out,” he teased, settling into the couch, clearly enjoying this. 

“Do I get breakfast too, or is that pushing it?”

“Don’t push your luck,” you replied with a mock glare.

“You can make yourself breakfast. Just don’t burn the place down.”

Haechan quietly laughed before getting comfortable on the couch, sinking into the pillows you had brought him. His relaxed posture seemed to shift the atmosphere in the room, making it feel more relaxed. 

“Just so you know,” he said, propping himself up on one elbow, “this isn’t going to become a regular thing. I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Right, the infamous Haechan, the bad boy who no one can take seriously.” you teased, rolling your eyes as you left to go to your room.

As you closed the door to your room, you leaned against it for a moment, allowing yourself to breathe.

You tossed your phone onto the bed and plopped down beside it. After a moment, you set a timer for the morning, letting exhaustion pull you into sleep.

Morning light filtered through your curtains, you stirred as your alarm beeped. Blinking sleep from your eyes, you stretched and glanced at the clock. You had meant to wake up early, but the memories of last night lingered in your mind, making it hard to move.

You climbed out of bed, the floor cool against your feet, and made your way to the bathroom. After quickly brushing your teeth and throwing on some comfortable clothes, you headed toward the kitchen, the smell of coffee filling the room.

You found the blanket neatly folded on the couch and the pillows stacked up next to it, but no sign of Haechan. A small frown formed on your face. But what did you expect? You weren’t friends just because he fought your ex. He said it himself that it wasn’t for you. He just wanted an excuse to hit Jay.

Pushing the thought aside, you took a deep breath and focused on getting ready for class. You stepped into your bathroom, splashing your face with cold water to shake off the remnants of sleep. After putting on some makeup and brushing your hair, you throw on a comfortable pair of jeans and an oversized sweater.

As you walked back into your bedroom, you noticed your phone lighting up with a message. You grabbed it, and messages from your friends filled your phone. 

Chenle: THAT WAS CRAZY!! ARE YOU OKAY?? 

Jaemin: Hey, let me know when you’re home!! <3

Jaemin: You probably fell asleep, let me know when you are awake <3

Jeno: Are you okay? Jaemin and I took care of the problem  (⪰∀⪯）

Chaeryeong: I saw you leave with Haehcan!! GURRL YOU NEED TO TELL ME EVERYTHING!!

After a moment, you replied to everyone letting them know you were okay.

With your bag slung over your shoulder. You walked towards campus, your mind still racing with thoughts about Haechan. 

When you arrived, you navigated through the crowd of students, your mind drifting between the classes you had lined up for the day. 

As you made your way to your first lecture, you spotted a familiar face across the quad. It was your friend, Chaeryeong, waving enthusiastically. You quickened your pace to meet her.

“Y/n! There you are!” she exclaimed, pulling you into a quick hug. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming to class!”

“You know I can’t afford to miss a class,” you laugh.

“Okay, I’ve waited enough! Tell me everything!” she said, her eyes sparkling with curiosity as you both walked towards the lecture hall.

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. “Well, Haechan stayed over last night after everything that happened with Jay.”

Chaeryeong raised her eyebrows, a teasing grin spreading across her face. “Oh? Look at you getting cozy with the enemy!”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t hide your smile. “It’s not like that. I felt bad, dragging him into all of this.”

“He was always in this,” she said, nudging your shoulder playfully.

You nodded, the weight of her words settling in your mind. “I know, but this doesn’t mean we are friends.”

Chaeryeong shook her head, and the two of you entered the lecture hall, finding your seats. As the professor began speaking, you turned to whisper to Chaeryoung, leaning in slightly to keep your conversation discreet. 

“Let’s not tell the guys about me going home with Haechan... I don’t want them to get the wrong idea.”

Chaeryoung nodded and turned back to focus on the lecture. 

“I’m going to go eat something, I didn’t get to have breakfast,” you said, rubbing your stomach lightly to emphasize your point. 

“You’re so lucky to have a break between classes” Chaeryoung groaned, “I have two more classes before I can even get food.” 

“You’re the one that wanted all morning classes” 

“Yeah because the night is for parting not for studying.” Chaeryoung rolled her eyes. 

You shoved her playfully before splitting up and heading towards the café and sitting in the same spot you did last time. 

“Okay, you have to stop stealing my spot,” an annoyingly familiar voice said, breaking your focus from the menu. You looked up to find Haechan standing there, an amused smile on his face.

You raised an eyebrow, faking annoyance. “Still doesn’t have your name on it. This is a public café.”

“Sure, but you know it’s my favorite spot,” he retorted, sliding into the seat next to you. “I always sit here to people-watch between classes.”’

You couldn’t help but laugh at his mock-serious expression. “I don’t care right now, I’m starving.” 

He chuckled, glancing at the menu before leaning back in his chair. “What are you getting?.”

“I was thinking about a bagel and some coffee,” you replied, glancing over the options again.

“Boring,” he declared dramatically, shaking his head. “Get the avocado toast. It’s amazing here.”

You rolled your eyes. “So you can steal it? You’re not even hiding your motives.”

He shrugged, an innocent look plastered on his face. “What can I say? I have exquisite taste.”

“Exquisite taste?” you repeated, unable to suppress a laugh. “That’s a big word for you.”

“You’re supposed to be nicer to me now!” he pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. “I did rescue you from that jerk, remember?”

“Rescue is a strong word,” you countered, trying to keep a straight face. “You threw a punch….and then I had to pull you away.”

“Details, details,” he said, waving a hand dismissively.

You leaned back in your chair, pretending to consider. “I’ll get an order for two avocado toasts.”

“Really?!” he exclaimed, eyes lighting up with excitement.

You gestured for him to get up so you could slide out of the booth. “Yeah, but only because you’re annoying and I don’t want to hear you complain. But you’re coming with me to order it.”

“Yay!” Haechan stood up and followed you to the counter, the playful banter continuing as you both approached the register.

As you placed the order, he leaned against the counter, watching you with a teasing smile. “What if I said I wanted extra everything? You’re still paying?”

You laughed, shaking your head as the barista rang up your order. “Is that all?”

You nodded your head, “Yep, that’s all.” You reached into your pocket for your card, but before you could find it, Haechan pulled out his and handed it to the barista.

“Hey, what are you doing?” you protested.

“Just treating you to breakfast,” he said nonchalantly, leaning against the counter as if it was no big deal. 

“Why?” You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “For what? You were the one who punched my ex, remember?”

“Exactly,” he replied with a smirk. “I’ve been wanting to mess up his face for a while!”

The barista handed Haechan back his card, and he turned to you with a victorious grin.

You rolled your eyes. “Fine, I’ll let you have this one. But only because I’m starving.”

As you both moved to the side to wait for your order, the door to the café bell rang. You looked to the side and saw it was Jay and his friends.

“Shit!” you mumbled under your breath, your stomach sinking as you tried to think of an escape plan. 

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as Jay’s laughter echoed through the café. He spotted you almost immediately, his expression turning sour.

You could see him making his way to you, so you did the only thing that felt like it would hurt him. 

You grabbed Haechan’s shirt, pulling him closer to you as you leaned in, pressing your lips against his in a quick, aggressive kiss.

Haechan froze for a moment, clearly taken aback. But he quickly recovered, wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing you back. 

The reaction was immediate. Jay’s expression shifted from confusion to fury, his friends exchanging glances as the tension in the room skyrocketed. You could feel Haechan smirking against your lips, clearly enjoying the situation.

As you pulled away, Haechan’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Didn’t know paying for your lunch would make you want to kiss me,” he asked, while a grin tugged at his lips.

“Jay is here,” you whispered, low enough so no one else could hear you. 

Jay’s glare burned into you, and he scoffed, crossing his arms. “You think that’s going to make me jealous? You’re pathetic.”

You felt a rush of boldness. “If you’re so over it, why do you care?” you shot back, feeling bold because of Haechan’s presence.

Jay opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything further, Haechan stepped in front of you, his posture protective. “You really should find a new hobby, Jay. This isn’t working for you,” he said, his tone calm yet firm.

Jay’s face turned a shade redder, his boldness faltering. “Whatever. I don’t need this.” He turned on his heel, storming out with his friends trailing behind, their laughter fading as they exited the café.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, glancing up at Haechan. “He was so mad.”

Haechan chuckled, his eyes still sparkling with amusement. “I have a plan!”

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical but curious. “Oh no, should I be worried?”

“Not at all,” Haechan replied, that mischievous grin still playing on his lips. “But if you want to make him furious, we’re going to have to turn it up a notch.”

“What exactly do you mean by that?” you asked cautiously, folding your arms. 

“Simple,” he said, leaning in conspiratorially. “We pretend that we are hooking up. Just for a little while. You know how much it’ll eat at him.”

Your eyes widened. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why not?” Haechan shrugged, clearly enjoying the drama of it all. 

“It’ll be fun. And the look on his face when he realizes you’ve completely moved on? Priceless.”

You paused, considering it for a moment. As ridiculous as it sounded, the idea had some appeal. Jay seeing you with someone else, especially Haechan, would drive him nuts. And the more you thought about it, the more tempting it became.

“Okay, let’s say I go along with this,” you began slowly. “What’s in it for you?”

Haechan’s grin widened. “I get to have the time of my life watching Jay go insane.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto your face. “I don’t know…”

“Come on, it’s genius,” Haechan said, leaning back against the counter with a self-satisfied smirk. “

We’ll be the hottest ‘couple’ in the room, and Jay won’t know what hit him.”

You bit your lip, still hesitant but intrigued by the idea. “Fine,” you finally said. “But don’t get any ideas. This is strictly for show.”

Haechan held up his hands in mock surrender. “Of course. Strictly business. But trust me, this is going to be fun.”

After finishing lunch with Haechan, you went through the rest of your day—attending lectures, trying to focus, but your mind kept drifting back to the café incident. 

Haechan’s ridiculous plan echoed in your head, and you couldn't help but replay Jay's angry expression over and over again.

By the time your classes were over, you were mentally exhausted. Having dinner with your friends sounded like a nice break after a hectic day. As you approached the dining hall, you spotted Chaeryeong waving you over to the usual table where the others were already gathered—Jaemin, Jeno, and Chenle.

You slid into the seat next to Chaeryeong, who immediately gave you a curious glance. “So, how was the rest of your day?”

“Eventful,” you said with a sigh.

Jaemin perked up, overhearing the exchange. “Eventful?”

You hesitated, not sure how much to share. “Just... ran into Jay and his friends at lunch.”

The table went quiet for a second before Chenle raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“And... Haechan was there,” you added, not wanting to dive into all the details.

Chenle laughed, breaking the tension. “Oh man, I bet that was awkward.”

“You have no idea,” you muttered, exchanging a glance with Chaeryeong, who seemed to already know there was more to the story.

Jeno, who had been quiet, finally spoke up. “What did Haechan do?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could say anything, Jaemin cut in. 

“Wait, wait—are you guys friends now?”

You paused, unsure how to answer that question, especially with Haechan’s ridiculous plan in the back of your mind. “Not... exactly,” you said vaguely.

Jeno looked confused. “What does that even mean?”

Chaeryeong, always the perceptive one, smirked slightly but stayed quiet, watching the situation unfold.

You shrugged. “It just means things are complicated. Let’s just eat.”

But you could tell from the looks on your friends' faces that this wasn’t the last you’d hear about Haechan and Jay.

Your phone rang, and you glanced down, spotting Haechan’s name on the screen. You sighed, already bracing yourself for whatever chaos he was about to bring into your life.

“What do you want?” you asked as you answered, your voice laced with mock annoyance.

“Party this weekend,” Haechan's voice was full of excitement. “We need to go! Everyone’s going to be there.”

You rolled your eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. “And why, exactly, do I need to go to this party?”

“What, you don’t want to kiss me again,” he said with a teasing tone. “Plus, everyone is going to be there so it’s perfect.”

You could already imagine him grinning on the other end of the line, fully expecting you to give in. “Haechan, I’m not exactly in the mood for another party.”

“Come on,” he whined. “It’s not just any party. Jay’s gonna be there.”

“Fine, okay,” you finally said, giving in with a sigh. You could practically hear the grin in Haechan's voice.

“Perfect! I’ll pick you up at eight on Friday. You’re not going to regret it, trust me.”

“I’m already regretting this,” you muttered, but a small part of you was excited. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad—if nothing else, you’d get a chance to make Jay uncomfortable, and that was starting to sound more appealing.

“Just make sure you’re ready,” Haechan added. “And wear something… you know, sexy.”

“Sexy?” you repeated skeptically.

“You’ll figure it out,” he said, his tone light and teasing. “See you then!”

As the call ended, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and unease. This party could either be a disaster or the perfect chance to move on from Jay and get a little revenge. Either way, things were about to get interesting.

The week flew by in a blur of classes, assignments, and quick meals with friends. Before you knew it, Friday had arrived, and you found yourself staring at your closet, trying to figure out what Haechan meant by "something sexy." 

You groaned, pulling out outfit after outfit, none of them feeling right. Tonight wasn’t just any night. If Jay was going to be at this party, you wanted to make him regret cheating on you.

You gave up, settling on a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt. As you finished getting ready, you glanced at the time. Almost eight. 

Just as you applied the finishing touches to your makeup, you heard a knock on your door. Taking one last look in the mirror, you grabbed your jacket and opened the door.

“Took you long enough!” Haechan teased, eyeing your outfit with a dramatic shake of his head. 

“What?” you asked, already sensing the criticism coming.

“This won’t do,” he said with exaggerated disappointment. Before you could protest, he sighed and gently pushed you back into the house. “Where’s your closet?”

“Haechan, I’m not changing!” you called after him as he made a beeline for your bedroom.

“You are if you want to make everyone jealous,” he insisted, already rummaging through your clothes as if he owned the place. “Jeans and a black T-shirt? Come on, Y/n, we’re supposed to be putting on a show.”

You rolled your eyes, half-amused, half-annoyed. “My outfit doesn't matter.”

He grinned, pulling out a sleek black dress you had tucked away. “This is perfect.” 

You hesitated for a second, glancing at the dress. It was short, definitely not what you had planned, but you had to admit, Haechan had a point.

You sighed, eyeing the dress Haechan held up. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m dead serious,” he replied, his grin widening as he shoved the dress into your hands. “Come on, Y/n. You want to show Jay what he’s missing, right?”

You hesitated for a moment longer, looking between Haechan and the dress. You wouldn’t ever wear that if you were just going out with your friends. You didn’t have the confidence, but Haechan somehow gave you confidence. 

“Fine,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as you snatched the dress from him. “But if this goes wrong, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal,” Haechan smirked, plopping down on your bed and crossing his arms. “I’ll take full responsibility.”

You disappeared into the bathroom, slipping into the dress and staring at yourself in the mirror. It was outside your usual comfort zone, you couldn’t deny you looked good.

Stepping out, you found Haechan waiting, his eyes widening slightly. For a moment, there was no teasing grin, just a flicker of surprise before he quickly masked it.

“See? Now this is how you get everyone’s attention,” he said, standing up. “Jay’s gonna be so jealous.”

His eyes lingered on you a little too long, and the sudden intenseness made you feel exposed. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to shield the self-consciousness creeping up. 

Haechan reached out gently, his fingers brushing against your wrists as he pulled your arms away from your body.

“Hey, none of that,” he said softly, his voice surprisingly tender. “You look amazing. Own it.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. His usual playful arrogance was replaced with something… different, almost like he wanted you to feel confident tonight. The teasing smirk was still there, but his eyes held something deeper.

“You think this is gonna work?” you asked, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest.

Haechan grinned, his usual swagger returning as he let go of your arms. “Oh, it’s definitely going to work. Jay’s not going to know what hit him. And more importantly, you’re going to have the best time.”

You took a deep breath, trying to match Haechan’s confidence. “Okay, let’s go before I change my mind.”

“Relax, we’re gonna have fun.” Haechan shot you a wink before opening the door. 

“Trust me.” 

And for some reason, in that moment, you kind of did. 

The party was in full swing by the time you and Haechan arrived. The music was loud, the lights were flashing, and the air was thick. 

“Hold on for a moment, I need to find Mark really quick” Haechan immediately disappeared into the crowd, leaving you on your own. You should have known you two wouldn’t have stayed together the whole night. 

You made your way to the kitchen, needing a moment to collect yourself before facing Jay. As you poured yourself a drink, a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Well, well, well, look who it is.”

You turned to see Jay leaning against the counter, a smug smile on his face. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“Surprised to see me?” you shot back, taking a sip of your drink.

“Not at all,” Jay replied, his eyes trailing over your figure. “Although I must say, this wasn’t exactly what I expected.”

“You don’t get to have any expectations,” You snapped, trying to sound confident despite not feeling it. “I wear what I want.” 

Jay chuckled, leaning in closer. “You never wore that when I was with you.”

“Past tense,” you emphasized, setting your drink down with more force than necessary. “Things change, Jay. Clearly.”

His smile paused for a moment before he masked it with a shrug. “Finally got bored of that douchebag.”

“Yeah, but I guess he hasn’t taken the hint since he’s right here, talking to me.”

Jay's smug expression deepened, but you met his gaze head-on, refusing to back down. 

“Y/N?” His tone was dripping with arrogance. “Do you think Haechan is any better than me? He’s just having fun with you until he gets bored.”

You felt the sting of his words, but you weren’t going to let him get to you. You leaned in slightly, your voice steady. 

“Maybe. But at least he’s better in bed.”

Jay's jaw tightened, clearly not expecting that response. He opened his mouth to say something, but a voice cut through the tension.

“This is just sad,” Haechan's voice rang out as he walked over, a cool smirk playing on his lips. “She already found someone better.”

Jay straightened up, glaring at Haechan, but didn’t say anything. The silence between the three of you was heavy, but you could sense that Jay was weighing his options. After a beat, he scoffed and stepped back.

“You’re not worth my time,” Jay muttered, giving you one last look before turning on his heel and storming out of the kitchen.

As soon as he was gone, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Haechan gave you a sideways glance, his smirk softening into something almost... concerned. 

“You alright?” he asked, leaning casually against the counter as if nothing had happened.

You nodded, still feeling the adrenaline from the confrontation. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

Haechan raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Good. Because I have a better idea for the rest of the night. Let’s make him regret ever speaking to you.”

You blinked at him, intrigued. “What are you planning now?”

Haechan grinned, eyes gleaming with mischief. “You’ll see. But first, we need more drinks to loosen up.”

Haechan’s grin widened as he grabbed two cups from the counter, handing one to you. You hesitated, still feeling the lingering tension from your run-in with Jay, but something about the way Haechan looked at you made it impossible to say no. 

“Let’s party,” he said, raising his cup.

You clinked your cup against him, taking a sip before following him back into the crowded living room. The music pulsed through the space, people dancing and talking in tight clusters. Haechan was already scanning the room, clearly looking for the next move.

“What exactly is this plan of yours?” you asked, trying to read his expression.

He shot you a playful look. “Oh, it’s simple. We just need to make it look like we’re having the best time ever—together. You know, give Jay a little show.” He winked, clearly enjoying himself.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “So, you plan to make Jay jealous again?”

“Exactly,” Haechan said, pulling you closer to him as a new song began to play. “Let’s see how he likes watching us have all the fun.”

Before you could protest, Haechan spun you around, guiding you into the makeshift dance floor. The bass vibrated under your feet as he moved effortlessly, a confident smirk still plastered on his face. Despite yourself, you found yourself laughing, his energy contagious. You couldn’t deny how easy it was to get swept up in the moment with him.

As the two of you danced, you noticed Jay standing across the room, watching with a clenched jaw. It was clear that Haechan’s plan was working. You caught Jay’s eye for a split second before deliberately looking away, focusing entirely on Haechan. The warmth of his hand on your waist and the way he smiled at you as if no one else mattered, made you forget about everything for a moment.

“See?” Haechan said, leaning close to your ear, his voice barely audible over the music. “Told you it would work.”

You glanced over your shoulder, seeing Jay pushing his friends away and keeping his eyes on you two, clearly frustrated. You grinned. “Maybe you’re right. But don’t let it go to your head.”

Haechan chuckled, spinning you again before pulling you close. “Too late for that.”

Haechan leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Are you ready for the real show?” You nodded as Haechan started to lead you out of the crowd. 

As Haechan started to lead you up the stairs, your heart was pounding. The noise from the party below faded slightly with each step, leaving just the two of you in a quiet bubble. His hand remained firmly on your hips, his grip surprisingly reassuring despite the teasing smirk still playing on his lips.

”He’s following us.” Haechan whispered as he led you into a room, purposely leaving the door slightly open. 

Your heart skipped a beat as Haechan whispered those words, confirming what you had suspected. Jay was trailing behind, just as Haechan had expected. 

Once inside the dimly lit room, Haechan stood in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours. He motioned for you to stand near the bed, his smirk fading into something more serious, though his playfulness never completely disappeared.

“We're putting on a show, right?” he murmured, keeping his voice low. "Might as well give him something to really lose his mind over."

Your breath caught in your throat as you processed his words. This whole thing was a game—one meant to drive Jay crazy—but there was something in the way Haechan was looking at you now that made it feel a little too real.

The faint sound of footsteps approaching the door pulled you out of your thoughts. Jay was getting closer, tension growing thicker with each passing second.

Without thinking, you took a step toward Haechan. He raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting to see what you would do next.

You reached up, touching the side of his face, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. His eyes locked with yours, full of unspoken words. At that moment, you knew this was more than just a plan to him.

"You're right," you whispered, your voice barely above a murmur. "It's time for the real show."

Haechan's eyes widened slightly at your words, his breath hitching in anticipation. Without another word, you took a step closer and then another, until you were just inches apart. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, and it was intoxicating.

As Jay reached the door and saw the two of you so close together, he froze, unable to look away from the scene unfolding before him. It was clear that he had never expected things to go this far.

You felt a surge of adrenaline as you leaned in, closing the gap between you and Haechan. His lips met yours in a rush of heat and urgency.

You felt Haechan’s hands grip your waist and pull you into him even closer, deepening the kiss even more. 

As your lips moved together, you could sense Haechan's eagerness, his fingers trailing along your skin as if trying to memorize every inch of you. 

You felt Haechan’s hands grip your waist a little harder than before as he pushed you softly onto the bed. 

The room seemed to spin around you as Haechan hovered over you, his gaze intense and filled with a raw hunger that sent shivers down your spine. Jay's shocked silence from the doorway only added to the adrenaline.

Haechan's lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses as he peppered more along your collarbone. 

A soft gasp escaped your lips as Haechan's hands roamed over your body. 

Haechan pulled away slightly to look into your eyes. Once he saw that you weren’t uncomfortable, he grabbed the bottom of your dress and moved it up slightly to expose more skin. 

Haehcan groaned slightly as he saw your panties were starting to get wet. 

“Mmm all for me?” He traced his fingers along the edge of your lace underwear before looking back up at you with a teasing smile that made your heart race even faster than it already was. 

You nodded slightly in response and bit your lower lip nervously.

“Use your words, princess. Haechan murmured, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible above a murmur. "All for you."

The words sent a wave of pleasure through Haechan's body as he leaned down, his lips just brushing against your neck, sending more chills down your spine. 

"You’re such a good girl for me," Haechan growled, his voice low with lust.

Before you could respond, he pulled your dress up further, exposing even more of your body completely to him. His eyes lingered on your panties for a moment before he pulled them aside, gently tracing the outer edges of your folds with his finger. 

A soft moan escaped your lips as Haechan’s finger brushed against your sensitive skin. 

“Fuck, Haechan,” you whispered, your voice shaky.

Haechan smirked, his eyes never leaving yours.

He leaned down, slowly tracing his tongue along the outline of your panties before pulling them off completely. 

You shivered as he gently blew on your heated skin.

“You ready?” Haechan murmured, his voice low and seductive.

You couldn’t speak, could barely breathe, but you nodded quickly, desperate for more of his touch.

Haechan gently pushed your legs apart, revealing yourself to him completely. He stared at you for a moment, taking in every detail of your aroused body before leaning down to kiss your inner thigh.

His lips were warm and soft, sending shivers through you with every touch. As he trailed kisses higher and higher, your breath hitched.

A soft moan escaped from between your lips as Haechan's tongue flicked against the sensitive lips. He continued to tease you, his touch never quite reaching the place you desperately wanted him to be.

You squirmed beneath him, desperate for his touch, but he refused to give in. The teasing was almost unbearable. Your heart raced as you felt him moving closer, but still, he denied you.

Finally, just when you thought you couldn't take it any longer, Haechan pushed your legs further apart and dove between them without holding back. His tongue danced across your heated skin as he explored every inch of you.

Your back arched off the bed as you felt him start to get hard on your leg. You threw your head back, gasping for air as a wave of pleasure hit you.

Haechan continued, his tongue never faltering in its job to bring you to a place of pleasure. You felt amazing. 

It wasn't long before the pleasure became too much to bear. A strong climax exploded through you. 

You moaned his name, the sound echoing through the room as you came apart in his arms, your entire body shaking uncontrollably.

Once your body has relaxed, your breaths came in ragged gasps as you tried to catch your breath. 

Haechan laid beside you, his eyes locked on your face as he continued to pant softly.

As you came back down to earth you got up from the bed, making Haechan sit up to watch what you were doing. 

You got onto your knees right in front of him.

"Now it’s your turn," you said softly, your eyes meeting his. You could see the hunger in Haechan's eyes, causing you to squeeze your thighs together.

Haechan raised an eyebrow, a hint of mischief lurking in his expression. 

As he sat there, his gaze locked on yours, he slowly undid his jeans, letting them fall to the floor. 

You couldn't help but gaze at him as he stood there before you, every inch of him screaming for your touch. 

Your heart raced as you reached out to touch him, your fingers tracing a path down his chest and onto his stomach.

He shivered as your touch reached his stomach, but he didn't stop you. You continued to explore every inch of him, your fingers tracing the definition of his muscles, feeling the heat radiating from his skin.

As you reached the waistband of his boxers, you hesitated for a moment, uncertainty playing in your mind. But Haechan's eyes never left yours, urging you on.

With a deep breath, your hand dipped beneath the waistband, your fingers brushing against him. A soft moan escaped his lips, his eyes flickering shut for a moment before he opened them again, meeting yours once more.

You wrapped your hand around him gently, feeling him grow harder in your grasp. The warmth from him was intoxicating. 

As you began to stroke him slowly, his eyes searched yours. 

With a soft nod, you conveyed your permission through your eyes. And Haechan's gaze darkened, and his hunger became more pronounced. He reached out and slid your dress up and off, his fingers tracing down your arms as he removed it.

As the garment fell away, Haechan pulled you closer and gently moved your hair away from his face. 

You moved closer to him as you licked the tip of his length. 

Haechan let out a soft groan as your tongue flicked against him. You took him into your mouth slowly, savoring the taste of him. Haechan's eyes fluttered shut as you moved your tongue. 

Haechan let out a small gasp as he hit the back of your throat, enjoying every second of it. You swirl your tongue around him.

He watched you intently, his eyes drinking at the sight of you on your knees before him, your hair falling down your back.

You lapped at him gently, your tongue tracing circles around his head. Haechan's hands gripped your hair tight, his knuckles turning white as he tried to hold onto something in this moment.

As you felt him start to thrust into your mouth, you took him deeper, your throat contracting around him as he began to lose control.

Haechan groaned loudly, his hands gripping your hair tighter, pulling you deeper into himself. His hips bucked uncontrollably, every muscle in his body tense as he was looking for his release.

You could feel his arousal growing more intense within your grasp. The sight of Haechan losing control above you sent shivers down your spine.

Finally, with a loud groan, Haechan thrust deep into your throat, a wave of pleasure washing over him as he came. 

You felt his hot seed fill your throat, and the sensation was overwhelming.

Your body shook as Haechan's release flooded your senses, and you savored every moment of it. As he began to soften, you gently withdrew from him, the evidence of what happened dripping from your lips.

Haechan's eyes fluttered open, and he pulled you into his arms, his mind blurred with pleasure. He kissed you deeply, his tongue tracing the contours of your mouth, tasting himself on you.

As the two of you pulled away from each other you looked at the door and noticed Jay was gone. Not even noticing that he left.

You exchanged a knowing look with Haechan, both of you smiling. It seemed like the plan worked. 

As you disentangled yourselves from each other, Haechan glanced down at your still-dripping lips. "We should probably clean up," he said, his voice low and husky.

You nodded, feeling heat in your cheeks as you headed back to the bathroom that was connected to the room.

As you cleaned up, you couldn't help but start to feel a little embarrassed. But Haechan's gentle touch and reassuring words made you feel at ease once again. He helped you clean up, his hands moving gently over your body as he wiped away the evidence of what just happened.

As the water ran into the sink, the two of you stood close, your eyes meeting in the mirror above. 

When you were finished cleaning up, Haechan led you back to the bed, making sure to shut the door this time before making himself comfortable in bed. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. You could feel his heart beating against your back, his breath warm on your neck.

"Get some sleep," he whispered, his voice barely a murmur.

“We can’t stay here.” You whispered back, your voice laced with a hint of anxiety.

Haechan's arms tightened around you, his grip comforting and reassuring. “It’s Mark’s room, I already asked if we could use it.”

You sighed, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. It wasn't the most ideal situation, but it was better than going home this tired.

As you snuggled closer to Haechan, you felt a sense of peace wash over you.

"Thank you," you hum.

Haechan whispered back, “Shhh don’t thank me."

Soon after, the two of you fell into a deep sleep, wrapped up in each other's arms and drifting off to the sound of each other's breathing. And as you slept, the two of you knew that whatever was going on between you just got a lot more serious.

As you slumped into your seat at the dining hall, Chenle grinned at you from across the table. “Why do you look like you just went through hell?”

You glared at him. “Thanks, Chenle. Needed that today.”

Before you could respond, Jaemin chimed in with a smug look. “She went to Mark’s party last night.”

Your eyes widened, taken aback by how he knew. “Wait, how did you—?”

“Life360,” Jaemin said, cutting you off with a proud grin. “I check everyone’s location before I go to sleep.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Of course you do.”

Chaeryeong, who had been quietly listening, suddenly leaned forward, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Hold up…are we just going to ignore the fact that you went to Mark’s party without us?”

You sighed, already sensing the upcoming interrogation. “Guys, it’s not a big deal—”

“Please tell me you didn’t go with Jay!” Jaemin interjected, shaking his head like he couldn’t even believe it.

“No!” you snapped back, fed up with hearing his name.

“Then who?” Jeno asked, leaning in with curiosity.

You hesitated, looking around the table before mumbling, “Haechan…”

The silence that followed was loud. Chaeryeong’s jaw dropped while Chenle and Jeno exchanged glances. Jaemin was the first to break the silence, raising an eyebrow.

 “Haechan? Seriously?”

The table went silent again, all eyes turning to you as your last word hung in the air.

“Haechan?” Chaeryeong echoed, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. “You went to a party with Haechan and didn’t tell us?”

You groaned, running a hand over your face. “It wasn’t like that.”

Chenle smirked, clearly entertained. “I don’t know… going to a party together, leaving us out of the loop—seems kinda suspicious.”

You groaned again, feeling their eyes on you like a shot light. 

“It’s not what you think!”

“Then you better start explaining,” Chaeryeong said, crossing her arms. “Because we all know how this sounds.”

“I didn’t even plan to go! He convinced me at the last minute,” you defended yourself, glancing around the table. “And then Jay showed up, so Haechan… helped me avoid him.”

Jeno let out a small laugh. “So Haechan was your knight in shining armor, again?”

“Oh, please.” You rolled your eyes. “He just wanted to mess with Jay. It wasn’t about me.”

“Still,” Chaeryeong leaned in, lowering her voice dramatically, “Did you spend the night with him?”

Instead of responding, you groaned and buried your face in your hands, too exhausted to deal with the flood of questions.

Chaeryeong gasped dramatically. “Oh my God! You did sleep with him, didn’t you?!”

Your head snapped up, eyes wide. “I promise it was all part of a plan!”

Jaemin raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “A plan? What kind of plan involves you sleeping with Haechan?”

Chenle leaned forward, clearly intrigued. “Yeah, I’m dying to hear this one.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “We knew Jay would hate it, okay? It wasn’t supposed to mean anything.”

Chaeryeong’s eyes widened even more. “Wait—So how did Jay know you two slept together?!”

“Well— um, he was right outside the door…” 

Chaeryeong’s jaw practically dropped to the floor. “Wait. Wait. Jay heard you two through the door?!”

You squirmed in your seat, feeling the weight of everyone’s stares. “Not just heard us...”

Jaemin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “He watched you two have sex?!”

Chenle, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “I didn’t know you were into that,”

”I’m not!” You tried to defend yourself, “and it wasn’t even full-on sex!” 

Chenle let out a high-pitched laugh, and Jeno shook his head, “Let me get this straight…You gave Haechan a blowjob while Jay was watching…” 

“I mean if you put it like that it sounds weird…” 

Chaeryeong gasped dramatically, covering her mouth with both hands, her eyes wide with shock and amusement. “Oh my God, Y/n!”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands again. “It wasn’t like that!” you tried to explain, your voice muffled by your hands. “It just… happened!”

Chenle was practically doubled over with laughter, wiping a tear from his eye. “Honestly, this is the best thing I’ve heard all week.”

Jeno sighed, trying to hold back his grin. “Okay, but seriously, what are you going to do now? You can’t just pretend nothing happened.”

You nodded, biting your lip. “I know.”

Jaemin looked at you sympathetically, his voice softer now. “Do you like him?”

You took a deep breath and didn’t answer. 

The table fell silent, everyone waiting for your response. You could feel their eyes on you, especially Jaemin, as he leaned in slightly, waiting for you to speak.

Finally, you exhaled, avoiding their gazes. “I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice quieter than usual.

 “It’s all so confusing. I didn’t expect any of this to happen, and now… I don’t know how I feel.”

Chaeryeong, always the first to jump in, sighed dramatically. “Well, if you don’t know, that’s already saying something. Maybe there’s more to this than you think.”

Chenle, now composed from his earlier laughing fit, added, “Honestly if it was just to get back at Jay, you wouldn’t be this torn up about it.”

Jeno nodded in agreement. “He’s right. You’ve got to figure out if this was just a one-time thing or if there’s something between you and Haechan.”

Jaemin stayed quiet, his eyes searching for yours. “It’s okay to not have all the answers yet,” he said gently. “But don’t ignore how you’re feeling just because it’s complicated.”

You groaned, “I’m just going to pretend like nothing happened and avoid him.” 

The group groaned in unison, making you roll your eyes.

“That’s what we said not to do, Y/n,” Jeno said, shaking his head. “You can’t just avoid the guy forever.”

Chaeryeong crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair. “And you know Haechan. He’s not exactly the type to let things go.”

Chenle leaned forward, grinning mischievously. “Plus, avoiding him will just make him chase you even more.” You sighed, slumping in your chair.

Jaemin gave you a soft smile, his eyes kind. “Whatever you decide, we’re here for you. Just… don’t run away from it. If you need time, take it, but don’t bury your feelings.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of their advice. “Okay, fine. I’ll talk to him… eventually.”

The group exchanged knowing looks, but no one pushed you further. At least, not yet.

It’s settled, you're going to avoid him. But of course, that didn’t go as smoothly as you hoped. Every time you tried to slip past him, he somehow spotted you first. It became a game of cat and mouse.

The awkwardness grew with each interaction, especially when you’d catch his eyes from across a room and immediately turn to flee. And as if that weren’t bad enough, your phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. Texts, missed calls, even voice messages. Haechan was relentless.

“Y/n, can we talk? This is ridiculous.”

“Avoiding me isn’t gonna make this disappear.”

“At least hear me out before running.”

You groaned every time your phone lit up with his name. The tension built up so much that even your friends were getting fed up with your avoidance tactic.

“I told you he wouldn’t just drop it,” Chenle teased, scrolling through his phone as you sat together in the library.

Jaemin, who was sitting next to you, gave a gentle nudge. “You can’t keep this up forever, Y/n.”

You knew they were right, but the idea of actually facing Haechan—after everything—felt overwhelming. What would you even say? What did he want to say? The questions kept swirling in your mind, making it harder to act.

A small cough interrupted your thoughts, snapping you back to the present. You glanced up to see Haechan standing a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest and a determined look on his face. The library was quiet, and it felt like the world had paused at that moment. 

“How?” You looked back at your two friends who tried not to make eye contact with you.

”Traitors…” You mumbled.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his voice steady but it was laced with a hint of vulnerability.

You felt your heart race, the urge to run was almost overwhelming. “Not here,” you managed to reply, glancing nervously at your friends who were pretending to be absorbed in their work.

Haechan stepped closer, lowering his voice. “I’m not trying to make this awkward, but avoiding me isn’t helping either. Can we go outside? Just for a minute?”

You hesitated, torn between wanting to confront your feelings and wanting to run away. The library felt suffocating, and with each passing moment, it seemed you had no choice but to face the situation head-on.

“Fine,” you said, the word slipping out before you could second-guess yourself. You stood up, feeling your friends’ eyes on you as you walked past Haechan and out of the library.

Once outside, the crisp air hit you, momentarily clearing your head. Haechan followed closely, and you turned to face him, arms crossed defensively.

“What do you want?” you asked, trying to sound braver than you felt.

“I want to explain,” he said, his expression earnest.

“What happened that night… it wasn’t just a plan to get back at your ex for me.”

You swallowed hard, caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze. “Then what was it?” you challenged, unwilling to let him off the hook so easily.

“It was confusing. You’re confusing,” he replied, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “But I can’t stop thinking about you. I miss you…”

His words hung in the air between you, heavy. You felt your heart flutter despite your better judgment. “One chance,” you said finally, your voice steady but low. 

“You get one chance.”

Haechan’s eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across his features. “One chance? That’s it?” he asked, his tone a mix of disbelief and hope.

“Yeah,” you nodded, crossing your arms defiantly. 

He took a step closer, “All I need is one date, and you will be hooked,” he stated, a confident smirk playing on his lips.

You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Is that so? You think it’ll be that easy to impress me?”

He leaned in slightly, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I know it will be.”

You couldn’t help but feel a spark of curiosity at his challenge. “And what if you can’t?”

“I will,” he replied, his tone turning serious, “Meet me at my apartment tonight around seven.”

“Tonight?” you echoed.

“I can’t wait any longer,” Haechan responded, determination clear on his face.

“What do you have planned?” you asked, trying to mask your excitement with nonchalance.

Haechan smirked, a spark of mischief dancing in his eyes. “You’ll just have to trust me. I promise it’ll be fun.”

“Fun? Sounds like you’re setting the bar pretty high,” you challenged, trying to maintain your composure.

“Trust me,” he repeated, his voice low and enticing. “I’ll make it unforgettable.”

You bit your lip, fighting the urge to smile. “Fine, But if this goes bad, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal,” he said, his grin widening. “Just be ready at seven. I’ll pick you up.”

“Thought I was supposed to meet you there,” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, but I’m a gentleman,” he replied, his voice smooth and confident, a playful twinkle in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your smile. “A gentleman, huh? I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Only for you,” he shot back, leaning in a little closer.

“Okay, Mr. Gentleman. Just remember, I’m expecting something impressive,” you challenged, crossing your arms.

“Trust me, you won’t be disappointed,” he promised, his tone sincere.

Haechan stepped back, breaking the moment slightly. 

“Just focus on being ready. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Fine. Seven it is,” you agreed, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves racing through you.

“Perfect,” he said, a playful spark in his eyes. “I’ll see you then.”

As the hours went by, you kept yourself busy getting ready. You were excited, yet you still felt a little sick from your anxiety. You didn’t know what to expect. 

By seven o’clock, you stood in front of the mirror, nerves filling your stomach. After applying the final touches of makeup, you gave yourself one last look.

A knock on the door startled you from your thoughts. Taking a deep breath before opening the door.

Haechan stood there, looking effortlessly handsome in a fitted shirt and jeans. “Wow, you look incredible,” he said, his eyes full of awe 

“Thanks,” you replied, feeling your cheeks warm under his gaze. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Taking you back to my place,” he said with a playful smirk, extending his hand to you. “Let’s go.”

“As you walked together, the playful banter made it feel comfortable, just like it had before everything changed.”

Once you reached Haechan’s apartment, two guys walked out, exchanging casual greetings with him as they passed.

“Who were they?” you asked, curiosity growing.

“Just my roommates,” Haechan replied, “The tall one is Jisung, and the short one is Renjun.”

You nodded, glancing at the duo. Jisung gave you a friendly wave while Renjun shot you a playful grin before they disappeared down the hall and leaving you two alone.

“Come on in,” Haechan said, leading you inside. The apartment was cozy, decorated with posters and fairy lights that created a warm atmosphere. In the middle of the living room stood a makeshift pillow fort, complete with blankets draped over furniture and twinkling lights strung inside.

“No way, You remembered?” you asked, a laugh escaping your lips as you took in the sight.

Haechan shrugged, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “Of course, we used to always make pillow forts as a kid.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the nostalgic sight. “I can’t believe you went through the trouble of making a pillow fort just for me,” you said, stepping further inside.

Haechan grinned. “I thought it would be fun. Plus, who doesn’t love a good pillow fort?”

“True,” you replied, chuckling. “I’m already impressed.”

He led you inside the fort, where soft cushions and blankets awaited. The twinkling lights added a magical touch, casting a warm glow around the space. Haechan settled down next to you, leaning back against the pillows.

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked, eager to know what he had in store for the evening.

“Well,” he began, leaning in closer, “I thought we could watch some movies, eat snacks, and just relax. But first, I have a little surprise for you.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “A surprise?”

He reached into a nearby bag and pulled out a couple of your favorite snacks. “I know how much you love these!” he said, grinning as he held them up.

Your heart swelled at the thoughtful gesture. “You went all out, didn’t you?”

Haechan shrugged. “I try. Now, let’s pick a movie. Any preferences?”

You glanced at the selection he had lined up on his laptop. “How about a rom-com?” you suggested, feeling playful.

“Perfect choice,” he said, clicking on a title that caught your eye. As the opening credits rolled, you both settled in, the cozy atmosphere making you feel at ease.

Throughout the movie, you find yourself laughing and stealing glances at Haechan. He seemed so relaxed and in his element, and you couldn’t help but feel a warmth growing between you.

As the film reached an over the top romantic scene, you felt your heart race. Haechan turned to you, his gaze searching yours. 

“What do you think?”

“It’s cute,” you replied, trying to hide your flustered state. “But a little unrealistic.”

He chuckled softly. “Yeah, like how they always seem to have the perfect timing for their big moments.”

“Exactly! Who gets interrupted right before a kiss?” you joked, shaking your head.

“Maybe we should test it,” he suggested, his voice dropping to a softer tone.

You looked at him, your breath hitching slightly. “What do you mean?”

Instead of answering, Haechan leaned in closer, the distance between you closing. Your heart raced as he brushed his thumb across your cheek, his eyes locking onto yours.

“Can I?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your stomach flipped, and you nodded, unsure if you could speak.

Haechan closed the gap, pressing his lips against yours softly. The kiss was gentle at first, but as you melted into the moment, it deepened.

When he pulled back, a playful smile danced on his lips. 

“See, no one interrupted us.”

You couldn’t help but grin back, feeling giddy. “You just interrupted your own kiss’’

"I guess I did," Haechan replied.

"So much for perfect timing." You teased. 

Haechan's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Maybe we need more practice," he suggested, his tone light but laced with his usual teasing.

You felt your cheeks warm, torn between giving in to the moment and addressing the elephant in the room.

"Haechan," you started, your voice soft but serious,

"What are we doing here? Is this just... fun for you?"

His expression sobered, and he took your hand in his, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your skin. "It's not just fun," he said, his gaze intense. "I meant what I said earlier. I can't stop thinking about you, Y/n. This... us... it means something to me."

Your heart raced at his words, but doubt still lingered. "But what about before? The plan, getting back at my ex..."

Haechan sighed, running his free hand through his hair. "I know how it looked. At first, maybe it was about that. But somewhere along the way, it became real for me. You became real for me."

You searched his face, looking for any sign of insincerity. "And now?"

"Now," he said, leaning closer, "I want to see where this goes. For real this time. No games, no plans. Just us."

The sincerity in his voice made your breath hitch. You found yourself leaning in. "Just us," you echoed, your lips mere inches from his.

Haechan closed the distance, capturing your lips in a kiss that was deeper, more passionate than the first. You melted into it, your hand finding its way to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair.

When you finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, Haechan rested his forehead against yours. "So," he murmured, a smile playing on his lips, "Am I living up to my promise of an unforgettable night?"

You couldn't help but laugh, the tension from earlier dissolving into a warm, giddy feeling. "It's a good start," you teased, your fingers tracing patterns on the back of his neck. "But you still have a lot of work to do."

Haechan grinned, pulling back slightly to meet your gaze.

"Challenge accepted," he said with a smirk.

You watched as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

Your heart pounded in your chest, wondering what surprise he had in mind next. "What are you doing?”

"You'll have to wait and see," Haechan replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes that had you both anxious and excited to find out.

As Haechan's whispers trailed off, you couldn't help but feel excited. Your heart raced in your chest, and you knew that whatever he had in mind, it was sure to be unforgettable.

He began trailing kisses down your neck, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, pulling it off and over your head. The sensation sent a shiver through your body, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

Your hands found their way to his back, drawing him closer as his lips continued their trail down your body.

His fingers grazed the delicate skin of your stomach, making you shiver beneath his touch. He pulled back slightly, his gaze locked with yours, and you knew he was contemplating your next move. You saw the desire in his eyes, and you couldn't help but feel aroused and eager to continue.

His hands drifted downwards, tracing the curve of your hips before gently tugging at your pants. He looked up at you again, seeking permission with his eyes. You nodded, giving him the green light to continue.

As Haechan's fingers danced beneath the waistband of your pants, you couldn’t help but let out a small whine. This was real.

His hands slid beneath your waistband, pulling your pants down slowly, revealing more and more of your skin to him. He kissed his way down your body, his mouth leave a trail of wet kisses.

His fingers trailed along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

He leaned in to kiss you again, his lips soft and demanding, and you responded him with equal passion. You could feel him get harder through the fabric of his clothes, and it made you even wetter.

You pawed at his clothes, silently telling him to take them off. 

Haechan followed your cues, his movements quick as he tugged off his shirt, revealing the toned muscles of his chest and stomach. You couldn't help but moan at the sight. He then unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, and let them slide down his legs, stepping out of them.

You stared at him in awe, your eyes locked onto him. His eyes caught yours and a smirk formed on his face. "Miss seeing me like this?" he asked teasingly.

"Mmmh," you replied breathlessly, your gaze traveling from his perfectly toned chest to the definition of his stomach, and finally to the hard bulge in his boxers.

Haechan chuckled and stepped out of the rest of his clothing, standing before you completely naked.

Without another word, he pulled you close to him, his erection pressing against your thigh. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the desire that kept growing with each passing second. It was intoxicating, and you felt yourself getting lost in it.

Haechan's hands found their way to your waist, pulling you even closer as he began to grind against you. The sensation was so good, and you could feel your body responding to his touch.

His lips found yours once again, slipping his tounge in your mouth. 

His hands moved lower, his fingers finding their way between your legs, teasing your already wet folds. You gasped into his kiss, your body arching towards him.

His fingers explored deeper inside you. You could feel his erection pressing against you, begging to be inside you.

"Are you ready for me?" he groaned, his breath warm against your skin. 

"Yes," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm ready."

Without another moment of hesitation, Haechan positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock rubbing against your sensitive skin. You let out a moan as he teased you. 

He slowly pressed inside you, every inch of him filling you up. His eyes never leaving yours. You could feel the tip of his cock stretching you open, a feeling of fullness.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concern lacing each word.

"Perfect," you gasped, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him closer.

Haechan began to move, his hips thrusting into you with a rhythm that matched your own breathing.

Your hands clawed at his back, holding him close as he moved within you. The sound of his name falling from your lips was like music to his ears- a sound he never wanted to end.

Sweat began to trickle down Haechan's forehead, and the muscles in his arms tensed as he held you close to him. 

As he thrust deeper into you, the walls of your body clenched around him, pulling him closer. His breath grew heavier, and he grabbed your face to look at him. 

Your moans grew louder. The sounds of wet flesh meeting flesh filled the air, joining together with the hurried gasps and heavy breathing.

Your hips met his, matching his rhythm. You could feel your climax building. 

"Donghyuck," you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so close."

The use of his real name felt different, he felt almost primal as he growled in your ear. "That's it. Come for me baby."

As your body began to tremble, an intense wave of pleasure washing over you, Haechan thrust into you with a faster pace. His eyes locked on yours, he groaned, his jaw clenching as he fought to hold back his own release.

"I'm—I'm close too," he gasped, his eyes almost black from the pleasure.

The sound of your name falling from his lips made you feel like you were on the edge of the world. Your body shook as your climax hit its peak.

Just the sight of you orgasming sent Haechan over the edge. With a final thrust, he pulled out and came all over your stomach, painting you with his cum.

Breathless and panting, you watched as he collapsed beside you, his breathing ragged and uneven. You could feel the slickness of your arousal, mixed with his cum, coating your skin

“Let’s get you all cleaned up.” Haechan pulled away and planted a kiss on your forehead.

After cleaning up, you and Haechan settled back into the cozy pillow fort. The twinkling lights cast a warm glow as you cuddled close, wrapped in soft blankets. A comfortable silence fell between you.

Haechan gently took your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. His eyes met yours, filled with warmth and a hint of nervousness.

"Y/N," he began softly, "tonight has been amazing. Being with you like this, it just feels right. I know we started this in an unconventional way, but my feelings for you are real."

Your heart fluttered as he continued, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand.

"I don't want this to be just one night. I want to build something real with you, to see where this could go." He paused, taking a deep breath. "Would you be my girlfriend?"

A smile spread across your face, warmth blooming in your chest. "Yes," you replied, squeezing his hand. "I'd love to be your girlfriend."

Haechan's face lit up with joy. He pulled you closer, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "Round two?" he murmured, holding in his laugh as you slapped his chest. 

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[luveline]

𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧

remus’ touch after a long night prompts a tired confession (and a slew of clumsy kisses). 

requested here. modern au. fem!reader, 3.6k.

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

“I'm going to bed,” Sirius mumbles, scratching at his eyes as he gets up. “Don't let her sleep in her makeup. She'll get an eye infection.” 

Your eyes are getting sore, but it's hardly Remus' responsibility to make sure you wash your face tonight, nor Sirius’ to remind you. “I'm a big girl.” 

Sirius sends you a smile, ignoring your chiding. “Goodnight, my loves,” he says, waving you both away as he heads out of the living room and up the stairs. 

“Notice how he didn't do his dishes?” Remus asks, shifting beside you. 

He's sitting as he tends to, slouched in a way that can't be good for his back in the long run but is clearly comfortable short term. His chin is on his chest, his legs kicked out under the coffee table, which is decorated by the casualties of the night. Sirius’ dinner plate, Remus’ mug, James’ rarely used handheld console. He'd been playing a cutesy farming sim before he said goodnight an hour ago. Sirius stayed to mess with James’ crops and eat a late supper. You're surprised it took him as long as it did to admit defeat. 

“What time is it?” you ask. 

You're laying on the sofa with your socked feet tucked behind Remus’ back, of which he's yet to complain. His elbow brushes your shin as he brings up his arm. “Nearly one in the morning, now,” he reads from his watch. “Let's go to bed too, yeah?” 

“I don't want to.” You turn your face into the pillow behind your neck.

“Me neither,” Remus says, dropping his hand on your knee.

You watch another twenty minutes of TV together failing to summon the energy to stand, but the want for a glass of water grows too big. Your head throbs as you get up, offering your hands to the pretzel that is your favourite housemate.

Remus turns off the TV and lights. You lock the front door. He carries the dirty dishes to the kitchen and you fill up two glasses of water to take with you. It's all so… regular. A routine you share nearly every night, only to climb into your two separate beds. 

He ushers you out of the kitchen and down the hallway with his hand behind your shoulders, his touch a phantom as you ascend the stairs.

You're silent beside the creak of the old wood, too tired to speak. Remus is similarly quiet, though he does whisper, “Watch,” when you nearly kick the box of Halloween decorations waiting to be taken up into the attic. 

You leave your water on the towel box in the alcove and dance around one another in the bathroom. Sirius’ toothbrush lays on the sink still wet, but otherwise there's no signs of him. 

You're feeling very, very tired. You hadn't realised how bad it was until you're putting your toothbrush in your mouth, leant up against the window sill, a slot of cold air seeping in from the dark outside. Your eyes shutter closed. The scrubbing sound of Remus brushing his teeth is almost lulling. 

He swills out his mouth and washes his brush. “Here,” he says gently. You open your eyes just enough to see him beckoning you forward. “Dove, your necklace.” 

“Oh. Thanks.” You turn your back to him. 

His fingers are damp and cool on your skin as he unclasps your necklace. He often takes it off for you. It's one of the things you'll miss when you guys aren't living together anymore, the slow meander to his bedroom, the wood of his door jam on your cheek as you lean against it and give him a hopeful smile. Sometimes he's awake, reading a novel on his side in bed or listening to music at his desk, other times he's sleeping. On those occasions you spend too long lingering, stolen seconds spent staring at the rise and fall of his shoulder. 

“Thank you,” you say as he puts your necklace in the jewellery dish. It comes out missing vowels, lips stuck together as though honeyed. 

You spit pathetically in the sink, rinse your brush, and consider sitting down. “I'm tired,” you whine, wiping your lips. 

“I know,” Remus says, giving you a fond nudge. “Just wash your face and get on with it.” 

“You first. I'm going to nap standing up for a bit.” 

He puts as much of his hair behind his ears as he can and turns on the tap. This is just as familiar as brushing your teeth together. It's not quite as bad as watching James Perfect Skin Potter wash his face with bar soap, but you have to admit that Remus’ eight-nine pence face soap hurts your heart. He washes it off, pats his face dry, and takes the small bottle of bio oil out of the medicine cabinet to pipette onto his pinky finger. “Wash your face,” he says, smoothing the oil into his scars one by one. 

You shake your head. “M'gonna do it in the morning.” 

“That's why your eye was swollen a few weeks ago. You know yourself you won't.” 

“I might,” you say, letting out a big breath as you rub your sore eyes even sorer, “I'm too tired.” 

“Can you sit up, at least?” 

“No.” Remus takes you by the shoulders and forces you to sit on the edge of the bath. “Aggressive?” 

“Don't fall in,” he says, cupping your cheek briefly as if to make sure you've heard. 

You are hearing him, seeing him, even feeling the immensity of his touch, but you're tired, and you know you can let yourself relax completely with him. You'd be the same with James or Sirius, though neither of them could have your head feeling so dizzyingly light from a single touch as Remus can. You probably wouldn't let them persuade you into this, either, tilting your head back to watch through blurry vision as Remus soaks a cotton round in your facial oil. 

“Close your eyes,” he says. 

“Was that a dracula impression?” 

“I command you.” 

You close your eyes. The queasy feeling of oil drags against your lids as Remus wipes them, loosening the stiff tubes of mascara that coat your lashes. It's not a short process because he's very, very gentle, holding your face delicately as though you're a flower in need of coddling, and him the sun. It's the only metaphor that would ever make sense for you and Remus; he's like the sun even if it goes against every statement he's ever made about himself, or anyone else has, for that matter. People think he's a moody, sarcastic boy, and he is, but he's also a vestibule of sweetness, softness, and warmth. The kind of heat you'd only ever feel kissing your skin under the summer sun. But more than that, he's the relief that follows when the clouds come out. 

And his hands are all over you. Your head gets heavier by the minute, eased into dozing by his touch and quiet tones. “We're almost done. I'm gonna have to carry you to bed at this rate.” 

“I'm going to miss this so much one day,” you say. It's easier to admit when you're not looking at him. 

Remus turns on the tap. Hot water runs, you can tell by the sound as strange as it seems, and he wrings the dirtied cotton round before replacing it with a new one. He wets it, bringing it just that touch too hot to your cheeks to wipe you down. “What are you going to miss, dove?” 

“Us. You. I'm going to miss you.” 

“Where are you going?” 

“Nowhere, but one day I will be. James will finally have had enough of us and I'll,” —you swallow around nothing as a rivulet of water runs down your cheek, a cooling tear from the cotton round— “have to move out and we'll never see each other anymore.” 

“Don't be silly, you're not going anywhere.” 

“It's not about the going,” you murmur, peeling your eyes open tentatively as his dabbing follows down your cheek to your neck. “I miss you sometimes and we still live together. I can't imagine how much I'll miss you…” 

Remus puts the cotton round aside. He takes your face into his hand, and suddenly his touch feels raw, nothing like it had moments ago. Because Remus would wash your makeup off for you any day of the week, but his looking at you like this, so unshielded and unabashed, is a rarity. 

“You won't have to miss me. Even if we did move away from each other, I wouldn't let it be that far.” 

“Friends move away all the time. We don't speak to half the people we knew at school.” 

“I only really knew you and the boys,” he says. It isn't true but it is at the same time. Together, you'd been a happy lot, but your current housemates are the ones you'd known. “And see? We're still together.” 

“But for how long?” you ask. 

Remus brings his second hand, holding your face entirely. He covers your cheeks, index fingers sliding slowly under your ears. He's exceedingly gentle, and his eyes are soft. He holds you like you're made of glass, like you could break under a hint of pressure. Slowly, he tilts his head to the side as though he might lean in for a kiss. Maybe he doesn't know he's doing it, but Remus is a very purposeful soul. He'd do much worse to wind you up if you wanted him to. 

You sober up. It's like he has caffeine in his palms. 

“You want to go where I'm going, is that it?” he asks quietly. 

“Yeah,” you say, barely say, voice shame-facedly weak. Is he asking what you think he is?

“Do you want to start now?” 

You breathe out as one of his hands shifts down your jaw. “Yeah, I… I want to start now.” 

“Okay, dove. Then close your eyes again.” 

You hold his gaze for a second that feels infinitely long and short at once, your heart racing. Clarity has returned, a thrust into wakefulness even if your fatigue ties knots around your ankles. You look at him in his late night glory, his scars shining a pink-white like the petals of a young peony flower, and you know it's happening now. 

You shut your eyes. 

He steps closer, though the bath you're perched on is low, and he has to bend a considerable amount to reach you. The weight of his hands on you doesn't change, not even as he grows near enough to sense the heat of his breath against your lips. It's his nose that makes first contact as it slides against yours, and then his forehead presses down into you, his lips noticeably absent. Each contiguity between you thrums. 

A pit opens in your chest, cleaved by his voice as he says, “I'm going to kiss you, okay? S'that what you want?” 

Your hands don't feel like your own. Under the sickening nervousness twining its way through your ribs, you're excited. You're smiling, your voice shaped by it. “Yeah. It's what I want,” you say. 

“Good. It's what I've wanted for a while–” while pressed into your lips, all shaken up by an emotion you've never heard him speak with. He kisses you and you're frozen, and he waits and waits and pulls away to push back in. You remember yourself then, responding to his wading with some pressure of your own. Sparked back to life. 

It's so strange. It doesn't feel real. Remus Lupin kisses you heated and hard for just long enough to feel it in your teeth before he pulls away. “Sorry,” he murmurs, his fingertip running down your cheek, following that same path as your earlier rivulet. To think he saw it, really saw it, locked it away to remember and trace into your skin now… maybe he's seen much more of you than you realised all along. 

“Will you do it again?” you say under your breath. 

Remus must hear the thread of insecurity running through your question; you're afraid he'll say no, but he strokes your cheek again with that unfathomable softness and says, “Yeah, dove, of course I will.” 

“Do you want to?” 

And that's less insecurity and more selfishness, wanting the confession. He hears that, too. 

“I want to kiss you more than I've ever wanted anything,” he says, eye to eye with you, your head tipped up and your heart in your throat, twitching and fizzling like a firecracker. “Yeah? And all that missing me you've been doing? All your worrying? You don't need to do that. You've never needed to do that–” 

“I just never thought you liked me like that.” You and Remus aren't new to one another. “You've been the same since the day we met.” 

Remus’ hands get a little more solid where he's holding you. “Dove. Dove, are you mad?” 

“Remus–” 

“Maybe I have been the same, but did you really not notice that I–” He squeezes your cheeks playfully, almost in disbelief. “If you want me, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere without you. You're not going anywhere without me.” 

“So you like me?” 

“Yes,” he says, his eyebrows pinched together at the starts. “Of course I do.” He laughs. “That's what I'm trying to tell you.” 

“Oh,” you say, lifting your head. 

Remus shuts his eyes a millisecond before you shut your own and kisses you again. The second round is softer, his smile to yours and struggling to find purchase. His breath huffs out in a minty laugh, shockwaves through your mouth. 

“Stop laughing,” he breathes, his hands falling to your neck, your shoulders.

“You first.” 

Your lips part under his, a split-second of contact. He yanks away before things can get too heavy, and you're glad he does, but for a moment you feel the loss like a wave of vertigo. 

“Sorry, I'm going too fast, and you're tired.” His touch is ticklish behind your shoulder. 

“It's okay. Maybe it is a bit fast, but I'm not tired anymore,” you confess. 

Remus hugs you, cementing every feeling for him you have as he wraps his arms around you from over your shoulders, a deft hand cupped behind your neck. “That's not true. I can feel your back shaking. Let's go to bed.” 

“After that?” 

“What, are you worried it won't have happened in the morning?” he asks genuinely. 

You go limp in his arms as he takes your weight against his chest. Not worried, but rather not sure you can be away from him so soon. You ask him in a whisper if you can come and sit with him, not to sleep with him, not to do anything else, and he whispers back, Anything you want. You both entertain the lie that you won't fall asleep in his bed. 

—

Remus tenses as he hears the scuffling sounds of movement downstairs. It takes a train of thought awakening for him to realise it's only James, rising early as usual to put on a load of washing and prepare bits for lunch before he goes off for training. He can see him in his mind's eye if he tries, his friend dressed in the red and white rugby uniform, green socks up over his calves and white cleats scrubbed pristine for another ruck in the mud. 

Remus’ relaxes, stretching out in bed until his hand bumps into something rigid. 

He flinches. 

You're laying on the mattress beside him, your head slipped off of the pillows and your arm tucked beneath you. It doesn't look comfortable, and if it were any other morning he'd pull it straight for you, but. 

I kissed you, he thinks to himself, as though talking to you. He turns away from you until his back clicks and alleviates the ache in his hips, though he has to settle eventually, back on his back, no way of ignoring you. He doesn't want to ignore you. The opposite —why are you so far away? Can he hold you? 

What are the rules here? 

Kissing… not dating… You're here in his bed, you'd asked to stay. 

He takes your hand and pulls at your arm. Still sleeping, you mumble and move onto your back, releasing the pressure on your shoulder as he pulls you toward his chest. Your face is impassive, lax in sleep. 

He should let you sleep. 

“Dove,” he says, stroking up the length of your arm. 

“Mm?” you hum. 

“I need to ask you something.” 

You twitch awake with a small cough. Your eyes are red with a lack of sleep as you open them, blinking, and he wishes stupidly that he could make it better. He makes a sympathetic sound for want of more to do. 

“Why have you woken me up?” you ask, blinking at him. You gather that there's nothing urgent happening and push your face into his shoulder, practically nuzzling him. “It's Saturday.” 

“I just need to ask you something.” 

“So ask me,” you encourage through your sleepiness. 

The washing machine whirs downstairs. It’s an old machine that you often joke is taking off into orbit during the final spin, loud as anything. He can barely hear your sluggish breathing underneath it, but he can't miss the catch in it after he asks, “Can I be your boyfriend?” 

It's not the catch he's expecting. You laugh and readjust, wrapping your arms around him from the side and kissing the side of his neck clumsily. “Y'u asked me last night,” you say in a borderless run-on, sounding about as dopily in love as he's ever heard you. 

He thinks about it. Yes, he did, after he'd kissed you many more times than he should've and curled up in bed with you, hands held loosely beneath the blankets. He remembers the question, the answer. The last kiss that followed, and you falling asleep beside him. 

“I need a coffee,” he says, encouraging your head back so he can kiss your temple. 

“No, you need to sleep more with me. And maybe kiss me again. If you want to.” 

Sleeping isn't half as interesting as kissing you. He slots his nose against yours and languishes in the feeling of your lips, wondering if he's having a false start. He could still be dreaming. It would make sense. 

The door clatters open with a curse. James stands in the doorway with a folded pile of Remus' washing from the radiators in his arms, an apology on his lips, “Sorry, mate, the door got away from– oh my god. Oh my god?” 

Remus isn't an overly shy guy but he can't deal with this. “For fuck's sake,” he mutters, dropping his face into your shoulder. Your arm wraps under his neck, fingers splayed across his cheek. 

“James–” you begin, resigned to your fate. 

“This is flat-cest. This is the cardinal sin.” 

“We don't live in a flat,” Remus says. 

“That makes it worse. You can't even blame close quarters.” Remus peeks up to watch James in the doorway, still clinging to Remus’ washing, pure shock curdling his features. He shakes his head. “I'm telling Sirius.” 

“Please don't!” you say.

You slump back into the pillows as James leaves anyways. 

Remus hugs your soft abdomen. “Don't worry,” he says.

“I guess it's a good thing you've already asked me out,” you say. 

“Why, what can they do?” Remus asks, wondering if he's allowed to put his face on your chest or if that's too forward. You rake a hand through his hair and encourage him forward, to his delight. 

Frantic words. You and Remus loved up in bed despite it. 

“I'm chucking them out!” 

“James, they've been seeing for weeks. Can I go back to sleep?” 

“What?!” 

You grumble into his hair. “That's not even true… Does everyone know, then? That I liked you?” 

Remus thinks of the shadow of you in the doorway, that sheepish smile you send his way before you ask him to unclasp your necklace before bed, or your face as he’d wiped the sooty stain of mascara from your cheek last night, half in love with him as you fell asleep in his palm. 

“I don't think so, lovely,” he comforts. “Don't worry about it. We'll clear it up at lunch time. James isn't even mad, he's just sulking thinking we didn't tell him.”

“How could you not tell me?” James asks on cue, rounding the door again, arms ever tighter around the bundle of Remus’ clothes. He assumes it's being kept hostage. “I thought we were best mates.” 

“James,” you say softly, all sympathy. 

Remus likes the feeling of your voice under his ear, and your slightly too-quick heartbeat. He could fall asleep here and now if it weren't for the company. 

“It's new,” you're saying, softness melded to a sweet pride. “Okay? I've barely told Remus how I feel, of course I was going to tell you. We were only talking about it last night. It really hasn't been weeks, Sirius is a stirrer.” 

Remus pulls the covers up over your heads and climbs on top of you in a rush, demanding that the both of you be left alone, to James’ great annoyance but your delight, your laughter loud in the shell of his ear. Your chest shakes with it beneath him. 

A great wad of fabric hits him in the legs. “Twats,” James says, seemingly stalking off. 

Your whisper sends shivers down his spine. “We're alone again. Do you have anything else to ask me while you're too tired to remember?” you tease. 

There's not a chance in the world that Remus would ever forget this. 

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

thanks for reading!! I really hope you enjoyed, it's been a little bit since I wrote for remus like this so I was actually a bit nervous and I hope it's okay :D &lt;3

[she-who-fights-and-writes]

“Show, Don’t Tell”…But This Time Someone Explains It

If you’ve ever been on the hunt for writing advice, you've definitely seen the phrase “Show, Don’t Tell.”

Writeblr coughs up these three words on the daily; it’s often considered the “Golden Rule” of writing. However, many posts don't provide an in-depth explanation about what this "Golden Rule" means (This is most likely to save time, and under the assumption that viewers are already informed).

More dangerously, some posts fail to explain that “Show, Don’t Tell” occasionally doesn’t apply in certain contexts, toeing a dangerous line by issuing a blanket statement to every writing situation. 

The thing to take away from this is: “Show, Don’t Tell” is an essential tool for more immersive writing, but don't feel like a bad writer if you can’t make it work in every scenario (or if you can’t get the hang of it!)

1. What Does "Show, Don't Tell" Even Mean?

“Show, Don’t Tell” is a writing technique in which the narrative or a character’s feelings are related through sensory details rather than exposition. Instead of telling the reader what is happening, the reader infers what is happening due to the clues they’ve been shown.

EXAMPLE 1:

Telling: The room was very cold. Showing: She shivered as she stepped into the room, her breath steaming in the air.

EXAMPLE 2:

Telling: He was furious. Showing: He grabbed the nearest book and hurled it against the wall, his teeth bared and his eyes blazing.

EXAMPLE 3 ("SHOW, DON'T TELL" DOESN'T HAVE TO MEAN "WRITE A LOT MORE")

Telling: The room hadn't been lived in for a very long time. Showing: She shoved the door open with a spray of dust.

Although the “showing” sentences don’t explicitly state how the characters felt, you as the reader use context clues to form an interpretation; it provides information in an indirect way, rather than a direct one.

Because of this, “Show, Don’t Tell” is an incredibly immersive way to write; readers formulate conclusions alongside the characters, as if they were experiencing the story for themselves instead of spectating. 

As you have probably guessed, “showing” can require a lot more words (as well as patience and effort). It’s a skill that has to be practiced and improved, so don’t feel discouraged if you have trouble getting it on the first try!

2. How Do I Use “Show, Don’t Tell” ?

There are no foolproof parameters about where you “show” and not “tell" or vice versa; it’s more of a writing habit that you develop rather than something that you selectively decide to employ.

In actuality, most stories are a blend of both showing and telling, and more experienced writers instinctively switch between one and another to cater to their narrative needs. You need to find a good balance of both in order to create a narrative that is both immersive and engaging.

i. Help When Your Writing Feels Bare-Bones/Soulless/Boring

Your writing is just not what you’ve pictured in your head, no matter how much you do it over. Conversations are stilted. The characters are flat. The sentences don’t flow as well as they do in the books you've read. What’s missing?

It’s possibly because you’ve been “telling” your audience everything and not “showing”! If a reader's mind is not exercised (i.e. they're being "spoon-fed" all of the details), your writing may feel boring or uninspired!

Instead of saying that a room was old and dingy, maybe describe the peeling wallpaper. The cobwebs in the corners. The smell of dust and old mothballs. Write down what you see in your mind's eye, and allow your audience to formulate their own interpretations from that. (Scroll for a more in-depth explanation on HOW to develop this skill!)

ii. Add More Depth and Emotion to Your Scenes

Because "Show, Don't Tell" is a more immersive way of writing, a reader is going to feel the narrative beats of your story a lot more deeply when this rule is utilized.

Describing how a character has fallen to their knees sobbing and tearing our their hair is going to strike a reader's heart more than saying: "They were devastated."

Describing blood trickling through a character's fingers and staining their clothes will seem more dire than saying: "They were gravely wounded."

iii. Understand that Sometimes Telling Can Fit Your Story Better

Telling can be a great way to show your characters' personalities, especially when it comes to first-person or narrator-driven stories. Below, I've listed a few examples; however, this list isn't exclusive or comprehensive!

Initial Impressions and Character Opinions

If a character describes someone's outfit as "gaudy" or a room as "absolutely disgusting," it can pack more of a punch about their initial impression, rather than describing the way that they react (and can save you some words!). In addition, it can provide some interesting juxtaposition (i.e. when a character describes a dog as "hideous" despite telling their friend it looks cute).

2. Tone and Reader Opinions

Piggybacking off of the first point, you can "tell, not show" when you want to be certain about how a reader is supposed to feel about something. "Showing" revolves around readers drawing their own conclusions, so if you want to make sure that every reader draws the same conclusion, "telling" can be more useful! For example, if you describe a character's outfit as being a turquoise jacket with zebra-patterned pants, some readers may be like "Ok yeah a 2010 Justice-core girlie is slaying!" But if you want the outfit to come across as badly arranged, using a "telling" word like "ridiculous" or "gaudy" can help set the stage.

3. Pacing

"Show, don't tell" can often take more words; after all, describing a character's reaction is more complicated than stating how they're feeling. If your story calls for readers to be focused more on the action than the details, such as a fight or chase scene, sometimes "telling" can serve you better than "showing." A lot of writers have dedicated themselves to the rule "tell action, show emotion," but don't feel like you have to restrict yourself to one or the other.

iv. ABOVE ALL ELSE: Getting Words on the Page is More Important!

If you’re stuck on a section of your story and just can’t find it in yourself to write poetic, flowing prose, getting words on the paper is more important than writing something that’s “good.” If you want to be able to come back and fix it later, put your writing in brackets that you can Ctrl + F later.

Keeping your momentum is the hardest part of writing. Don't sacrifice your inspiration in favor of following rules!

3. How Can I Get Better at “Show, Don’t Tell”?

i. Use the Five Senses, and Immerse Yourself!

Imagine you’re the protagonist, standing in the scene that you have just created. Think of the setting. What are things about the space that you’d notice, if you were the one in your character’s shoes?

Smell? Hear? See? Touch? Taste?

Sight and sound are the senses that writers most often use, but don’t discount the importance of smell and taste! Smell is the most evocative sense, triggering memories and emotions the moment someone walks into the room and has registered what is going on inside—don’t take it for granted. And even if your character isn’t eating, there are some things that can be “tasted” in the air.

EXAMPLE:

TELLING: She walked into the room and felt disgusted. It smelled, and it was dirty and slightly creepy. She wished she could leave. SHOWING: She shuffled into the room, wrinkling her nose as she stepped over a suspicious stain on the carpet. The blankets on the bed were moth-bitten and yellowed, and the flowery wallpaper had peeled in places to reveal a layer of blood-red paint beneath…like torn cuticles. The stench of cigarettes and mildew permeated the air. “How long are we staying here again?” she asked, flinching as the door squealed shut. 

The “showing” excerpt gives more of an idea about how the room looks, and how the protagonist perceives it. However, something briefer may be more suited for writers who are not looking to break the momentum in their story. (I.e. if the character was CHASED into this room and doesn’t have time to take in the details.)

ii. Study Movies and TV Shows: Think like a Storyteller, Not Just a Writer

Movies and TV shows quite literally HAVE TO "show, and not tell." This is because there is often no inner monologue or narrator telling the viewers what's happening. As a filmmaker, you need to use your limited time wisely, and make sure that the audience is engaged.

Think about how boring it would be if a movie consisted solely of a character monologuing about what they think and feel, rather than having the actor ACT what they feel.

(Tangent, but there’s also been controversy that this exposition/“telling” mindset in current screenwriting marks a downfall of media literacy. Examples include the new Percy Jackson and Avatar: The Last Airbender remakes that have been criticized for info-dumping dialogue instead of “showing.”)

If you find it easy to envision things in your head, imagine how your scene would look in a movie. What is the lighting like? What are the subtle expressions flitting across the actors' faces, letting you know just how they're feeling? Is there any droning background noise that sets the tone-- like traffic outside, rain, or an air conditioner?

How do the actors convey things that can't be experienced through a screen, like smell and taste?

Write exactly what you see in your mind's eye, instead of explaining it with a degree of separation to your readers.

iii. Listen to Music

I find that because music evokes emotion, it helps you write with more passion—feelings instead of facts! It’s also slightly distracting, so if you’re writing while caught up in the music, it might free you from the rigid boundaries you’ve put in place for yourself.

Here’s a link to my master list of instrumental writing playlists!

iv. Practice, Practice, Practice! And Take Inspiration from Others!

“Show Don’t Tell” is the core of an immersive scene, and requires tons of writing skills cultivated through repeated exposure. Like I said before, more experienced writers instinctively switch between showing and telling as they write— but it’s a muscle that needs to be constantly exercised!

If I haven’t written in a while and need to get back into the flow of things, I take a look at a writing prompt, and try cultivating a scene that is as immersive as possible! Working on your “Show, Don’t Tell” skills by practicing writing short, fun one-shots can be much less restrictive than a lengthier work.

In addition, get some inspiration and study from reading the works of others, whether it be a fanfiction or published novel!

If you need some extra help, feel free to check out my Master List of Writing Tips and Advice, which features links to all of my best posts, each of them categorized !

Hope this helped, and happy writing!

[milksnake-tea]

━━ fear not the road untaken .

Sunday hadn't spent long with the Stellaron Hunters before boarding the Express, but the memories he'd made with them were priceless. One quiet day in the Express's cabin, while reflecting on his experiences with the Hunters, you appear to visit him.

astral express!sunday x gn!stellaronhunter!reader

contains: sunday used to be a stellaron hunter, teasing, FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF THIS IS THE CUTEST THING IVE WRITTEN SO FAR, SUNDAY IS DOWN BADDDD AS HE DESERVES TO BE BITES FIST I MISSED THIS SO BADDDDD, not established relationship sunday just has a massive crush on you

word count: 2.06k

a/n: happy drip marketing yall. you all get a sunday fluff piece. as a treat. also yes i am completely and totally sane. (THIS IS THE MOST SELF INDULGENT FIC IVE EVER WRITTEN I AM SO SORRY GUYS)

taglist: @sh0jun , @themoderatelyawesomeninja , @xphantasmagoriax , @rainswept , @lucensei , @akutasoda , @naraven , @scribs-dibs , @apathicace , @flurrina , @tragedy-of-commons , @cakechase , @kiiyoooo

“Sunday, we’re going out to Belobog for a bit. Wanna come with?”

Heeled boots still in the midst of a step. Feather-like hair shifts and tousles as he turns his head. At the invitation, gold melts, sapphires glitter, and a gentle smile warms his lips.

March is a blessing, he thinks. She is bubbly, kind, and always manages to light up whatever room she steps into - in that regard, she is not too unlike his beloved sister. Although her ability to plan ahead leaves much room for improvement, he cannot deny that it was her presence that made his transition into a Nameless much easier than it would’ve been.

Although, truthfully, he’d expected more resistance from her - out of everyone, she seemed to be the most traumatized by the Charmony Festival Disaster, and she also had more of a distaste for Stellaron Hunters than the others. But surprisingly, she’d come around to him, and welcomed him into the Express with open arms - and a lot of food. He swears, every time she’s come back from a trip, it’s another sweet or drink shoved into his arms - not that he’s complaining, though.

“Thank you for the invitation,” he begins, then rests a hand over his chest as a reflex. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to refuse. The last expedition has left me rather exhausted - and as you know, I don’t fare well in cold weather.”

Dan Heng nods in understanding. He’s never been a man of many words, and for that Sunday appreciates him. He rather likes straight-forward people, who aren’t afraid to say their mind - perhaps that’s why he’s grown to adore both the Express and the Hunters so much.

“Is there anything you want us to bring back?” pipes up the Trailblazer, dog-like eyes shining as they lean over March. “Like, sweets or whatever?”

Sunday bites back a chuckle. Somehow, word had gotten around that Sunday had quite the sweet tooth. He doesn’t know who started it or how they found out (he has his suspicions on March), but ever since the trio has been dragging him around to various planets and encouraging him to try the local desserts.

He wonders if he’s gotten cavities yet. He hopes not.

Maybe he should check again, at a later time.

“That Rye Bread Iceberg you brought last time was rather enjoyable. I’d like to try it again.”

March and the Trailblazer brighten at his words. “Okay, on it!”

Dan Heng only hums his acknowledgement before turning to leave the parlor car. “Let’s go,” he advises the others. “You know Seele doesn’t like to wait.”

Sunday has never personally met this Seele (the Trailblazer describes her as a crass but kind-hearted warrior), but her fury is enough to whip both March and the Trailblazer into shape. It isn’t long before the trio is waving him goodbye as they descend into the frozen planet, and he also bids them farewell.

And then it is just him, and the conductor.

A small sigh leaves him as he sits down on one of the many couches. He wasn’t lying when he said he was exhausted. Fighting - or any physical activity, for that matter - isn’t exactly his strong suit. Even during his time with the Hunters, he’d stayed behind the front lines, acting as a pseudo Kafka with his carefully crafted words and tuning abilities.

That’s one of the few things about the Hunters that he prefers over the Express - they didn’t force him to hike through deserts and jungles and mountains and Xipe knows what else. All they did was throw him off a skyscraper in the name of the script (he’s pretty sure Elio just wanted to see if he’d actually fly or not).

Sunday blinks, realizing just what had just passed through his mind. Then he sighs with a smile, leaning back into the red plush of the couches.

Only a few months since his fall, and he’s already beginning to think as weirdly as the rest of them.

“Sunday, are you alright?”

Sunday glances down to see the conductor waddling by his feet.

Pom Pom is… strange, no doubt - for whatever reason, Dan Heng fears them and has advised Sunday to not anger them at all costs. Their past is shrouded in mystery, but Sunday finds himself drawn to the conductor. Perhaps living most of his life in a fever dream like Penacony has warped his perception of what is normal and what is not.

“I’m fine, thank you.” He shifts on the couch to make room, but the conductor shakes their head.

“Are you sure? Pom Pom saw you laughing to yourself,” they fret, tapping their nubby hands together anxiously. “Have you been sleeping enough?”

Sunday crosses one leg over the other, and rests his hands over his knee. “If you’re concerned about my transition from Penacony to reality, be at ease. The Hunters have practically beat a proper sleep schedule into me.”

Pom Pom yelps in shock. “B-Beat?! They beat you?”

“Not literally,” Sunday hastes, instinctively reaching out a hand to calm the conductor. “It was more akin to… ominously threatening checkups. Although, there was this one time-”

He sees the look on Pom Pom’s face, and decides to stop it there. He fears they might break out sobbing if he continues.

“Nevertheless, rest assured that I am sleeping at an appropriate time,” he finishes reassuringly. His practiced smile pays off as the conductor gradually calms down, albeit worry about the Hunters’ methods still lingers.

“Alright, if you say so, Sunday.” They look around uneasily. “Do you want anything to drink?”

Sunday waves his hands hastily. “No, I am alright, thank you-”

“He’ll have some tea.”

Pom Pom jumps with a shriek and Sunday’s wings puff up. A familiar laugh ghosts his ear, and immediately Sunday’s face brightens.

“What- What are you doing here?!” Pom Pom quickly hides behind one of Sunday’s slender legs, hugging it like a lifeline. Sunday places a hand on their head to calm them as he turns to the hologram with a warm smile.

“At ease, conductor, they’re a friend.”

Your holographic form glitches in and out of reality. There’s a thin blue filter over your appearance, but other than that, everything is the same as he remembers.

“Hey, angel,” you coo, leaning your elbow on his shoulder as you sit besides him. Its weight is not the same as it would be in reality, but the presence is enough - a small, barely noticeable tingle that has his heart fluttering and his wings following in suit. “How’s life as Nameless? Do you miss us yet?”

Sunday laughs gently. “It has only been two weeks since I left the Hunters. I’m afraid I haven’t had the time to miss you all.”

You pout playfully, sticking out your tongue.Even though parts of you chip away and reappear, and your form isn’t stable, Sunday can’t help but be as captivated by you as he was when he was still among the Hunters’ ranks. Where the projection fails, his tinted memory fills in.

“Silver Wolf misses you, although I doubt she’d actually say it,” you say, taking a lock of his hair and twirling it around your finger. “Has she visited you yet?”

Sunday stutters a bit before weakly batting your finger away with his wing. “No, I’m afraid she hasn’t.”

“Hm.” You smile at his attempt to brush you off. Letting go of his hair, you instead opt to tug lightly at his cheek, earning a squeak from the Halovian. “That’s weird. Maybe she was too shy to speak up.”

“I-” Sunday rubs his cheek when you finally let go. Embarrassingly, his wings jump to shield his face, an unfortunate reflex he’d yet to curb. “I suppose she was…”

He hears you hum, and he lifts a wing to peek at you. His cheeks feel hot - no, that’s an understatement, the entirety of his body feels as if he’s in a fireplace.

“Give her my regards,” he finally breathes out, thanking the Aeons for his training in keeping his composure. Sure, it ultimately fails whenever he looks at you, but at least he’s able to fix himself quickly enough… or at least, he hopes that’s what it looks like.

“You didn’t answer my question though.” Propping your elbow on his shoulder again, you rest your cheek in your palm. “How’s the Nameless life treating you?”

“It’s chaotic,” Sunday admits with a fond sigh. He relaxes into the couch once more, feeling himself sink into the plush. Briefly, he’s tempted to lean his head on your shoulder, but given that you’re a holograph, he holds himself back. “But it’s fun. The Nameless have been kind, and the planets I’ve visited… It’s nice, to see the universe as someone other than a wanted criminal.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

Sunday would apologize, but considering that it’s you he’s talking to, he doesn’t feel the need to. After all, you’ve said worse to him, and him to you.

“You know what I mean,” he chuckles. “To be honest, though, the Express and the Hunters aren’t so different.”

He hears Pom Pom squawk indignantly, and again he ruffles their fur to calm them. Turning ever so slightly to your hologram, he gazes at you with adoration and fondness swelling his heart.

“To the both of you, I am forever grateful. If it weren’t for your kindness, I’d be rotting away in an alley somewhere. I wouldn’t be where I am today.”

All distaste for the Hunters fades from Pom Pom as they giggle bashfully. “Aw, Sunday… You don’t have to thank us. We were just doing what the Nameless do.”

You nod in agreement, reaching through his wing and poking his cheek again. “Conductor’s right. No need for thanks, birdie.”

“Still-” Sunday makes a sound like a startled bird as you poke his cheek harder, squishing it against the rest of his face. Underneath his coat, his primary wings strain with the urge to flutter and twitch, while his secondary wings are held back by sheer willpower. The only sign that they want to flap so badly is with the tiniest of tremors.

“None of that,” you chide him gently, tapping him lightly on the plush of his lips. “We’re just glad you’re happy - right, bunny?”

“Who’re you calling bunny?!” Pom Pom protests, steam puffing out of their head while steam threatens to escape Sunday’s face for completely different reasons.

Before you can reply, however, your form begins to glitch out, flickering in and out of reality at a higher frequency. With an annoyed click of your tongue, you stand up.

“Looks like Silver Wolf isn’t happy,” you comment, brushing off imaginary dust from your clothes. Taking one step so that you’re fully in front of Sunday, you lean in so that your projected nose barely brushes against his. “I have to get going now. You have my number, so text me if you need anything, okay? Or if you want to catch me up with your travels, you can always call me.”

Sunday’s voice feels lodged in his throat. With a subtle gulp, his Adam’s Apple bobbing ever so slightly, he manages to speak with an even voice.

“Okay,” he whispers, his voice almost a whimper. He wants to explode.

You smile fondly, and duck in to peck at the corner of his lips. The buzzing of your holograph morphs into electrifying lightning, surging into his veins, puffing up his feathers and making all of his hairs stand up and sending his already tapping heart into a frenzy. His body freezes into a statue, and all coherent thoughts melt away into a haze that is both ecstatic and shocked.

By the time you pull away, his wings are flapping erratically and his entire body is dyed in a rosey red. His mouth opens and closes like a fish, but all words die on his tongue and he is left blabbering like a fool.

You laugh again, eyes crinkling so beautifully he swears he’s ascended.

“If that’s how you react, I wonder how cute you’ll be when it’s the real deal.”

And then you’re gone, vanishing like a sweet dream in a flurry of pixels, leaving Sunday there to dazedly touch his lips, and then where you’d kissed him.

And then he smiles, giddily, and his halo practically glows as soft, love-stricken giggles begin to leave him.

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[therealnotta]

Had the wildest dream

Okay, so the backstory is that I was part of this massive group of immortals. Hundreds of people. We had all been around for so long that we couldn't remember a time when we were able to die, and the world had fallen into shambles, leaving only us and our super cool, technologically advanced floating cities. With so much time, we had been able to devise a way to live on our own, even with the rest of humanity gone.

And we HATED IT. Hated, hated, hated it. Nothing new to do but what you make up, and we had already made up everything we could think of. So, someone spent their countless years of experience and knowledge finding a way that they could die.

And they did! It worked! We could be at rest and join our mortal loved ones who had gone before us! But it felt... anticlimactic, and after being immortal for so long you tend to get a flair for the dramatic, so we couldn't just up and die. No, we had to make an event of it.

What we settled on was a game, which is what the dream actually was; everything else was just an understanding I had of what had already happened. It was a dice game, relatively simple, but that made it better; there wasn't much you could do to bribe or lie or cheat your way out of it. Everyone was dressed in their finest, and there was some way you could lose on your turn; if you did, you'd go off and die.

There were only seventeen of us left, and we were starting to get nervous. Of course, you wanted to be the last one. The honor of being the last person who ever lived? Yeah, that was right up our alley. But actually, what about the garden? What about the birds? What about the beautiful sculptures that we would never see again? It was late into the night, and we would never see the sun, and it was all starting to be less appealing. But all of our friends were gone, now. People we thought we could never lose. And would it hurt? We couldn't exactly ask the people who had gone before. And what if it didn't work, what if we were still aware, just not physically alive?

I woke up feeling annoyed, because I wanted to know how it resolved. If I could choose, it'd be that the machine was just a sort of teleporter, and the real purpose of it was to remind us that even here, at the end of the world, there's still more left to do. I'd just feel too bad about the people I watched, mildly terrified, get up from their seat and leave the room. Because they couldn't back out now.

[hedgehog-moss]

I've said goodbye to half of my greenhouse goldfish! And the other half will follow later. I started out with goldfish when my aquaponics system was new as they are quite resilient to variations in pH, etc, but I decided it was time to move on to edible fish (carp.) I feel like carp have a bad reputation (as food) but my mum used to fish & cook them when I was little and I liked them—I'll have to ask her to teach me how she prepared them...

To thank my goldfish for their good work fertilising my greenhouse plants, I wanted to find a nice place for them to retire. Here's their new home :)

One of my distant neighbours has this artificial pond where he used to have goldfish but their population got decimated by a gluttonous otter. I hope *my* fish will be smart and agile enough to escape her, and if not, well... the otter's family has to eat...

The process of finding a new home for my fish went as follows: 1. Find an old lady, for example Mrs L. at the library, who likes to talk about people's lives and minor problems 2. Tell her in passing that I have goldfish I'd like to donate 3. Wait a few days, then go buy groceries.

The cashier told me "Oh hey, Mrs L. told me to tell you she knows someone who knows someone who wants your fish. She gave me a piece of paper with his phone number"

4. Success.

I called this person, and it turned out to be the farmer I often buy hay from, who told me all about his problematic otter and said he'd like to repopulate his pond. I offered to bring him my fish, and then proceeded to procrastinate for several weeks. I realised this week that I was going to see this neighbour again soon (when he comes to deliver my hay) and it would be embarrassing if I still hadn't made good on my promise to deliver fish, so I finally set to work catching 15 goldfish.

It took so long. I think the reason I procrastinated is because my subconscious knew catching them would be a pain. They are so quick and nimble! And unlike otters I am not designed for this. There was one barracuda of a goldfish that I particularly wanted to catch, but she was too smart for me. She feinted and hid behind the filter and sacrificed fellow goldfish by pushing them into my net instead of her, it was very dramatic and eventually I had to give up on catching her.

(I even tried to use a large piece of chicken netting on top of my fish net, but of course it was very light and floated at the surface. I considered tying little rocks to it so it'd sink, and then realised I had single-handedly (re)invented bottom trawling. But I don't want to be a bottom trawler, it sounds like an insult. I'll have to try and catch my monster goldfish some other time when she least expects it.)

On my way to my neighbour's farm, I ran into a cow roadblock. Normally I would have pushed the cows aside, removed the rope across the road then put it back behind me after crossing the cowblock—but the cow in charge looked grouchy to me.

I made a détour.

Then, because the universe really didn't want me to deliver my goldfish, I ran into a goose patrol when I reached my neighbour's farm. I now know how Odysseus felt when Poseidon kept throwing sea monsters and other obstacles at him to prevent him from reaching his destination.

I dispatched Pandolf to parley with them and he looked very unenthused by his mission.

Fortunately, the geese were in a good mood and politely escorted us to the pond.

Goodbye, friends! Remember, there's a snake in this Eden. An adorable, web-footed, fish-eating snake.

Most of the fish dispersed quickly, but I thought it was so cute how these two leisurely swam away together...

And so I went and bought new fish for my greenhouse tanks. I'm going to miss the goldfish! They're cheerful to look at and I liked sitting by the tank and watching them go about their day. My new fish are better camouflaged and will be harder to observe. But it was fun watching their first introduction to goldfish society :)

[onmyyan]

hi again i'm the Anon who asked if you take commisions only or requests as well. I love your writing style<3

Soo could you write about Batmom reader, where reader took care of bruce's children as her own. But then bruce gets a mistress, reader still stays becuz of the kids but when everyone started to become cold to her and insult her ' X (mistress) is better mom then you ever were' she leaves gonthem. Then everyone realises she (mistress) was just after their money. They go to batmom's room to apologize only to find it empty. They try to find her everywhere but couldn't. And finally when they do, reader rejects them since she was having the time of her life without responsibilty but gets kiddnapped by the batfam?

Honestly i wanted to commision but i'm flat broke and i'm too busy studying to work and on top of that i don't have my own phone (i use my dad's old laptop) soo yeah... I hope you consider this.

A/N: Loooove this request thank you for sending it in <3 fem reader yandere themes lmk if you want a part two

The (L/n)'s were a wealthy and prominent family in Gotham, right up there with the Wayne's when it came to power over the city, the two families were in business together which is why when Bruce Wayne personal attorney came to you with a marriage proposal, you weren't surprised.

A marriage of convenience. You thought you knew what this would entitle, you knew this wasn't out of love, that this was required of you, it had nothing to do with what you actually wanted, but you were dutiful and signed, inking your name on the paper felt like a deal with the devil.

Bruce hadn't bothered to officially meet you until the day of the wedding, it was beautiful and well done but lacking any form of love of affection, CEOs and other rich folk you didn't recognize filled the pews, the ring felt cold when he slipped it on, his vows perfectly rehearsed, and not an ounce of warmth in his eyes, you knew that night you should have annulled the marriage, but something made you hold on, something your mother had said to you as the makeup artist turned you into the visage of a bride.

"You'll learn to love each other, your father and I did after all." And she wasn't lying, your parents married for convenience as well but had grown to love one another, so maybe you could do the same?

A year after the nuptials Dick Grayson is thrust into your life. Haley's circus was famous in Gotham for its incredible death defying shows, but on this night death would walk the stage, taking with them Dick Grayson's parents in a horrible display, You and Bruce had consoled the boy for only a moment before Bruce was talking to the officers, he'd decided Dick was coming home with you, of course without asking your opinion, but it didn't matter, you felt such pity and grief for the boy, it made perfect sense to you, he was shut down for the first few months, he called you by your name and you had no problem with it, making it clear you never wanted to try and replace his mother, the ice between you two melted one day, one kind word at a time, he couldn't help but confide in you about school or his friends, because you were more emotionally there than Bruce was.

Like the night you caught him sneaking out, a packed bag in hand and the keys to one of Bruce's many cars in his hand. Instead of yelling for Bruce or Alfred you simply smiled at him, "you should take the audi, it's the safest car here."

"..You're not going to try and stop me?"

You shake your head no, still offering that kind smile.

"You know yourself best Dick, if you're unhappy here I won't stop you from finding your peace." He took a moment before tossing you the keys and reluctantly making his way back inside.

You find out about Batman because of Dick. He'd come home with some nasty bruises and it wouldn't take long to put two and two together. Them both being missing at the same time, Dick started to pull away from you, one night, after hours of trying to get to sleep in a bed much to big for one body, your legs decided a walk was necessary, the halls were dark and quiet, giving the manor an eerie air, quietly you walked the long hallways intending on stopping by the library, as you turned the corner you seen Dick in a hidden elevator, the doors just slamming shut as your eyes tried to register what was there. Seconds after the doors close a wall appears, as if nothing was ever there. It's not long after that you see a brief news clip of the caped crusader and his new sidekick, because the longer you stared at the screen, the more familiar they began to look, that dead tight lipped scowl on Batman's face, it was one you'd had the pleasure of looking at for the past few years.

That night you confronted Bruce, he seemed surprised you'd figured it out, but he didn't deny it. Simply saying, "It's late (Y/n), get some sleep."

You nearly divorced him then and there for endangering a child the way he was, but after a moment of thought, you realized Dick would need a real parent around so you stayed, making Bruce swear to be careful.

Jason comes next and he takes to you a lot faster than Dick. He craved the warmth you offered, you two had inside jokes and a closer relationship than him and Bruce, but that all changes the day he dies. You're broken, a ghost haunting the manor with your presence, and Bruce is no comfort throwing himself into the Batman role, you begin to hate him a little with this particular betrayal.

Tim was another hard egg to crack but you were desperate after Jason's death, so you took his verbal lashings with a smile, were always there to offer a helping hand with any of his projects despite the help never being accepted. Tims wound from losing his father is too raw, he takes a lot of his anger out on you. And you weathered the storm with a soft, warm smile.

Damian hated you, from the moment he arrives, which is bitter enough as is because it meant Bruce was unfaithful, he's spitting out insults and comparing you to his 'perfect' mother.

Things weren't great in your life, but one day they started getting noticably worse. Dick no longer responded to your check in texts, Jason (now reanimated which was a heart attack in and of itself) saw you as the enemy, you didn't leave Bruce after what happened to him, so in his eyes you betrayed him, Tim ignored your existence as best as he could, and Damian? He'd started staring at you with this smug look on his face, like he knew something you didn't.

Bruce had all but ran from you, he didn't sleep in your shared room anymore, he barely spoke to you at breakfast, if it wasn't for the cameras he wouldn't touch you.

And it's all because of a woman named Rachel.

Apparently Bruce had introduced this woman to the family, bringing her around when you weren't, slowly replacing you, it was no wonder they started to pull back.

Alfred is the only reason you find out, having enough of the blatant disrespect, he calls you to come home early one day saying it's a dire matter. Of course you comply, and walk in on a discomforting sight. The whole family was gathered at the dining room table, plus a woman you'd never seen before, she sat close to Bruce, toying with his hand intimately. Her green eyes lock with yours and the smile she gives you forms a pit in your stomach.

There's silence before Bruce stands up, he walks over calmly, "Can we take this in the other room." But it wasn't phrased as a question.

"No" you licked your lips, a nervous habit from your youth. Bruce seemed taken back by your sudden backbone. He nods silently.

"I want her gone Bruce. I am your wife. You will show me that semblance of respect."

"I- of course." You don't wait for the words to settle instead, you calmly walk to your room, face unreadable.

Locking the door behind you, your body slides against the frame, a silent sob wracks your frame, your hands covering your mouth, you wouldn't give them the satisfaction of hearing your cries.

The next morning you wake up to breakfast in bed, a generic yet elegant spread of food lay on a tray in the empty spot Bruce used to stay. The man himself sitting in the chair beside the bed, staring at you with that practiced smile he used to appease people.

"Good morning."

"What's this?" You sat up straight, sleep evaporating from your form as you took in the threat before you.

"An apology. I never meant for yesterday to happen."

"What a comfort that is." Your piercing (e/c) eyes stare at him blankly, unreadable. "How long."

"A year." You scoff pushing the breakfast away from you like it was poisonous. "But its not what you think, Rachel is a childhood friend, a year ago our relationship, evolved into what it is now, but I was never intending to go behind your back."

"Ah of course, your intentions were pure." The words dripped venom, grabbing your robe you quickly dress before standing and walking to the door, "Thank you for the wonderful talk Bruce, really your people skills are top notch." Your hands gesture to the door. He leaves without a word.

The rest of the day is as usual, Bruce avoids you like the plague, the rest of the family acted as if you weren't there. Which made leaving all too easy.

Your lawyers had the divorce papers ready and hour after you called them, signing them felt like the first act of self love you'd done in years. Slipping them into Bruce's study you took the time to analyze the room you never entered.

It matched Bruce that's for sure, pictures of every single person in the family. All except for you.

Walking out the door, wrapped in your ankle length black faux fur coat, the garment whipped in the wind, the designer sunglasses on your face hid your eyes from the world, hair in a slicked back bun, your heels echoed against the pavement, a sleek black car was waiting for you, you look back at the house that had caused you so much misery then got in the back of the car, never looking back.

Life goes on for about a week, your absence goes unnoticed, that is before Rachel is trying and failing to blackmail Bruce out of a billion dollars, she'd collected evidence he was cheating on you with her and presented it to Bruce with a grin, it was only as he went through the pictures of himself and Rachel, did he notice the yellow envelope with his name written on the front.

Hey puts the heartbreaking matter of Rachel's betrayal on the back burner, Bruce opened the envelope and felt his heart completely stop at the word divorce written in bold lettering across the top, your signature was already there, waiting for his to join it.

Ignoring Rachel completely now he turns in his chair, turning the paper over and over as if it would magically change. But it remained the same. Alfred knocking on the door of his study broke him from his trance. "Master Wayne, miss Rachel." He says the latter's name with no warmth. "Escort Rachel to her car Alfred."

"Bruce have you heard a word I've said? I'm serious I'll go to Gotham daily right now if you don't -"

"Now Alfred."

That was all it took for the screaming woman to be firmly escorted off the premises. Bruce all but ran to your room, he didn't bother knocking, and despite knowing in his heart you were already gone, he couldn't help but check anyway.

Your room was empty and cold, he couldn't believe the date he'd read on the divorce papers, it was dated a week ago, meaning you'd been gone for a week and he hadn't noticed. No one had.

That is until Bruce remembers there's someone in the house nothing gets by.

"How long have you known she was gone Alfred?" He asks leaning on his knuckles the divorce papers stared back at him taunting him. "Since the moment she left." The older man replied simply his hands behind his back. "Why didn't you tell me immediately?" Bruce felt himself tense, "Because you've hurt that woman enough Bruce. She deserves at least this." He gestures to the daunting divorce paperwork before turning to leave Bruce with his thoughts.

The news of Rachel's betrayal shook the manor each member feeling violated by their trust being broken. But it was nothing compared to their reaction once they finally realized you were gone.

"That was rough." Jason says after watching Rachel being dragged out of the manor, he blew air out of his cheeks arms crossed over his chest, he looked towards the hallway that lead to your room, you had to have heard that he thought to himself.

Dick sighs through his nose, "Someone should check on (y/n), Rachel was screaming so loud she definitely heard that." No one volunteers so Dick rolls his eyes and heads towards your room.

He lifts his hands to knock but noticed the door was open, pushing it further he's met with a baren room, his brow furrowed in confusion before he makes his way to Bruce's study. "Hey B, have you seen (y/n)? Her room is like weirdly empty."

Dick found his Father where Alfred left him, leaning over the divorce papers silently a storm in his eyes.

As he steps closer and reads the paperwork Bruce was staring so intently at, his heart stopped.

"Holy shit- are those real?"

"Yes." Bruce finally spoke his voice horse. There was a moment of silence before Dick left the room practically running down the stairs to alert the others.

"(Y/n) left Bruce." He said still processing the information, "No fuckin' way." Jason says pushing himself off the counter he leaned on. "Her room is empty and he has the papers, she's gone."

Each member of the family had different reactions to this information.

Dick tries calling you only to be met with a disconnected number, his heart hammering in his chest, he wasn't as close to you as when he was younger sure, but you were a constant in his life, always had been, a pillar of support, and suddenly you weren't. It felt like the floor had gotten pulled out from under him.

Jason curses under his breath, his mind working a mile a minute, he had barely spoken to you since his Resurrection, something he deeply regretted as the information of your leaving sinks in like a brick thrown into a river.

Tim, ever calculating is trying to figure out where you went, you were a figurehead in his life, someone that was literally never not there, sure he wasn't close to you in the slightest but that doesn't mean he wants anything to happen to you, someone as quiet and soft as you on your own in Gotham? It didn't sit well with him. Not one bit.

Damian didn't know what he was feeling at the news, he supposed he should feel nothing, after all you were nothing to him, but there was this nagging feeling in his chest that he couldn't quite place. And he hated it. How dare you leave and upset his fragile ecosystem?

Meanwhile in the Bahamas, far from Gotham and the neglectful family you'd left behind, you sat lounging on a private beach, a knitted hammock cradles your body, a designer baby pink bikini covers you, a matching sunhat protects your face from the hot sun, you can't wipe the smile from your face, humming a tune from your childhood you barely flinch when someone takes the seat besides your hammock.

"Do I want to know how you found me?" You ask, eyes still closed as you bask in the warmth. You knew only one person had the sources to find you on your own island, and despite how much you resent the man, even his presence can't ruin your shine in this moment.

"You're my wife (Y/n), I'll always know where you are." Bruce speaks softly as if trying not to startle you. "Former wife." You correct cracking an eye open, a small smirk curling on your lips.

"Not until I sign those papers- which I never will."

"huh, I thought you'd be thrilled." You muse to yourself before folding your tanning mirror and setting it aside, you take off your Louis Vuitton sunglasses, blinking your pretty (e/c) eyes up at him, "Figured you and your little Twinkie would have tied the knot by now." You laugh softly, the sound, unfamiliar to Bruce, sent warm shivers down his spine, it causes his lips to quirk up in a small grin.

"She's gone."

"Well, I don't care."

There's a beat of silence before he's offering you his hand. "Will you walk with me? I know I don't deserve it."

You sigh before getting up, ignoring his hand, you nod your head reluctantly, "Well? Hurry up I've got dinner at six."

His smile remains as he begins leading you along the shoreline. It's relatively quiet between you two as you walk side by side, a peace between you both you hadn't ever felt. "The manor isn't the same without you." He breaks the silence, "I sincerely doubt that." You laugh at the very notion. "It's true- it's colder, quieter, I want you to come home."

"That was never my home, you made that abundantly clear."

He winces as if your words cut him, "I know I haven't been a good man to you, I know I've failed you time and time again but I..I looked at those divorce papers and my heart stopped." He admits running a hand through his hair.

"You can't leave me."

"I can't?." You scoff, your movement halting, "I'm a grown woman- I'm taking responsibility for my own happiness, you can't stop me."

"I wasn't asking." He says softly, his hands in his pockets, he had this fond look on his face, like he was staring at you for the first time, in a whole new light. "You can't make me." You say, brows furrowed, "You belong back home, you're supposed to be with me, till death do us part, remember?" He steps forward making you step back, your eyes wide, hands shaking, you back into a wide chest, spinning to face Dick, who's grinning at you, he's in his Nightwing costume, he gives you a small wave of his hand, you scrunch your face in confusion, "What the hell-" your thought is cut off by a small pinch in your neck, the needle in Bruce's hand is empty in seconds, he's cradling your stumbling form, holding you tightly, "Don't worry - I'll fix this."

Your sleeping body is gently carried to the batplane, Bruce holding you close to his chest as Dick pilots the plane, he whispers promises into your hair, rocking you against him as he swears on his life to make things right, weather you liked it or not.