#i need to be told what to do or else i don’t know how to be a person

[starlightswitch]

@flashfictionfridayofficial I was thinking about this idea since like Wednesday and the prompt slotted right in. But it's European Figure Skating Championship week and I was running out of time to watch replays, so it took me two days to finish it and to the Antique Prompts list it goes.

First Time For a Few Things

“Mom?” Chloe’s voice from upstairs.

“It’s after midnight!” Nina hadn’t looked at the clock but she had a feel for time when she was painting. If she was up after midnight painting it meant she was in a flow, and her daughter was not supposed to distract her unless it was an emergency.

“I… need… help.”

Nina rested her brush hand. “What kind of help?” she called, a sigh coming out in the middle of the words. She couldn’t imagine an emergency that would put that tone in Chloe’s voice—not urgent distress, more like… embarrassment?

“I think you need to come up here.”

This time the sigh was more quiet, but very, very long. Nina set her work aside and headed upstairs to find her daughter.

The first thing she saw in her daughter’s room was a teenage girl who was not her daughter.

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” the girl said. “I don’t even know how I got here, and then that thing is asking Chloe what she wants it to do with me!”

Sure enough, at the other side of the room lurked a familiar frightening figure. And her daughter.

“He just… showed up!” said Chloe.

“The agreement,” said Nina, half to the demon, “was that you would be protected from harm. What harm were you coming to?” There was a little snark in her tone. She had a feeling she would not define it as harm.

“I was, um, just upset about something that happened with her. No big deal.”

Nina looked at the demon, then back at her daughter. She raised her eyebrows.

“Well, I didn’t know that was going to happen.”

“She told me to bring her to her,” the demon put in. Nina didn’t think she was imagining a bit of a whine in his voice.

“You got that thing involved—” said the other girl, staring at Chloe, “—because your—”

“I didn’t get that thing involved!” Chloe insisted. “I don’t know how he got here!”

“But you know how I got here! I got here because you told it to bring me to you. Then what were you going to do?”

“I don’t know!” That tone that might be embarrassment again. “I didn’t think that far!”

“So what happened?” said Nina. “What started this?”

“We don’t have to get into it!” said Chloe.

Nina looked at the other girl.

The girl raised her chin. “Her boyfriend broke up with her,” she said. “And started dating me.”

Nina swept her gaze back to Chloe. “So it wasn’t something she did?” she said.

“I mean,” said Chloe, staring at her feet, “it wouldn’t have happened if she didn’t exist.”

The other girl’s voice peaked. “You were going to tell it you wanted me to not exist?”

“I told you I didn’t think that far!”

Nina took a very deep breath. “You don’t want a guy who doesn’t want you and wants someone else,” she said to her daughter. “Trust me, you don’t.”

“I can’t just not want him!”

“You could try harder than you’re currently trying.”

Chloe went back to staring at her feet and did not say she couldn’t try harder.

After a minute, Nina said, “So now what do we do?”

“Ultimately I answer to you,” said the demon.

Nina was looking at Chloe.

Chloe rubbed her head, her chin in her hand like she was getting a headache. “He should take her back to where she was,” she said sullenly. “And I should try to get over the guy. I guess. And you’re probably going to say this dude can’t take orders from me.”

Nina swallowed a laugh at ‘this dude’. “The intention was to protect you from harm,” she said. “Let me now specify, physical harm. Or, obvious, direct harm. Not getting what you want is not harm, especially when it involves someone else making a choice.”

A boyfriend. It suddenly sank in. Chloe had had a boyfriend. Her daughter’s first boyfriend. Her daughter’s first breakup. She was not being the mother you were supposed to be for that.

But then, your daughter’s first breakup was not supposed to involve her sending demons after people.

“Um, can I get home?” said the girl. “So I can go to bed and not fall asleep in class tomorrow?”

“Take her home,” Chloe said with resignation. “So my mom can get back to work. I distracted her after midnight so I’m already in for it.

The demon looked at Nina. She made a gesture of “go ahead”. The demon and the other girl both vanished.

Chloe glanced at her mom. “You can go back to painting,” she said. “And we can never talk about this again." Before Nina could respond, she added, “Were you ever going to tell me I have some kind of weird, creepy god… goblin?”

That time Nina could not avoid a snort. Carefully casual, she asked in return, “Were you going to tell me you had a boyfriend?”

“I mean, it never really came up.”

Nina raised her eyebrows. “Well. Yeah.”

Chloe snorted.

“You should go to bed. It’s after midnight.”

“You should also go to bed, but you’re not going to.”

“If I’m tired in the morning, that’s my problem. If you’re tired in the morning, that’s also my problem.”

“And my problem.”

“Well, yes.” Nina shut the door, went downstairs, and went back to painting. She hoped she’d gotten away with not explaining, but knowing Chloe she knew that was too much to hope.

This should probably all feel much weirder to her than it felt. Maybe summoning a demon to protect your daughter had set the bar for abnormal pretty high. Or maybe everyone had a different sense of normal after midnight.

Seventeen years ago you summoned a demon to protect your infant daughter. Today, you regret that decision immensely. Demons should NOT be allowed to do the bidding of teenage girls.

[traveler-at-heart]

Doctor's In - Part 12

Summary: Wanda deals with the aftermath of your breakup.

A/N: This chapter is focused on Wanda. Big thanks to @a-cat-on-titan for an idea that made it on a part of the fic :)

Aint no mountain high enough

Ain’t no valley low enough

“Ain’t no river wiiideee enoough” Wanda dances around the kitchen, singing.

It’s never quiet around the house. There’s always music, or drilling or hammering. Because she’s taken into making (badly built) furniture. And pottery. And yoga.

To anyone else, it may seem like Wanda’s living her best life.

But Pietro’s not just anyone.

His sister is running away from her feelings, keeping herself busy just so she doesn’t have time to miss you.

“Oh, morning. Want anything for breakfast?”

“I’ll make something later, thank you” he refuses the offer, feeling better and finding his movements to be more confident after another month in physical therapuy. “How did you sleep?”

“Children, we’re late for school!” Wanda ignores him. That’s the one thing she can’t do. Sleep. She’ll rest for a few hours, but as soon as everyone’s asleep, Wanda gets too anxious. Her only solution is to put on a pair of headphones and paint or do pottery or anything else until it’s 3 am and she’s too tired to think.

Or dream.

“Billy, where is your soccer bag? You boys have practice after school!” Wanda says, trying to look for it. Kids, always misplacing everything.

“I don’t wanna go to soccer anymore! I already told you” he protests. Pietro looks up, prepared for another argument.

It’s been happening since you left.

“Sweetheart, you love soccer!”

“No, I don’t! I only liked it because Y/N helped me practice during the weekends and it was fun. I’m not going anymore”

With that, he leaves the house and heads straight to the car, slamming the door. Wanda knows he’ll be crying on the way to school and will refuse to hug her goodbye, the same way he’s done every day for the past month.

“Tommy, grab your stuff” the woman says, trying to pretend everything’s fine.

Unfortunately for her, the twins don’t let her pretend, showing how hurt they are and how much they miss you.

It’s just a phase.

“I have a meeting with Laura, I’ll come back later” she says goodbye to Pietro, hoping the car ride can be a bit better.

“Ok” is all he says, frowning.

There’s only one way to fix this. He just hopes his sister will find a way to forgive him after finding out what he did.

—

Laura is waiting with coffee and some biscuits. She’s always looking at Wanda anxiously, waiting for the moment that everything will finally collapse and she’ll feel all the things she’s avoiding.

So far, nothing.

“Hey! Oh, the boys are being so difficult lately. How did you manage with Cooper?” Wanda always walks in with a monologue ready, which never gives Laura the chance to ask her how she’s doing.

“I don’t know. I mean I don’t think that was a difficult age for him” she grimaces, thinking whether or not to tell Wanda this has nothing to do with age, and everything to do with her breakup.

“Is this the book? Oh my God, it looks amazing!” she changes the topic, knowing where the conversation is headed. As she opens to read the first pages, her smile fades. “Well, we need to get rid of that”

That as in, the dedication. The words that were written for you. Because you helped with the book, with taking care of the kids, with encouraging Wanda.

This was supposed to be a gift for you. Like the first book Wanda ever wrote, and she dedicated to the twins. And so on with every one of her family members.

You were the last piece of the puzzle. And she had hoped that someday she’d dedicate the next one to a baby girl. A daughter that looked just like you.

“Wanda…” Laura says, noticing the cracks in her friend’s perfect facade.

“Anyway! I have to go do some grocery shopping. I’m making coq au vin tonight”

“Do the kids eat that?”

“Sure!”

Of course they don’t. But chicken is too fast and she needs to be distracted and have a lot of dishes to clean and keep her mind occupied.

“Well, this is a first prototype. Once I speak with the publishing company we’ll get a date for the release” Laura says. “Hey, are you sure you’re ok?”

“Never been better” Wanda lies. “See you later, Laura”

Of course, the trip to the grocery store is not enough to calm her, not when there’s a woman wearing scrubs, looking exhausted and trying to figure out which baking powder is better.

“This one’s good if you want to bake cookies” she says, finding it hard to look away. “Sorry, you didn’t ask”

“No, that’s fine. Appreciate it” the woman nods, grabbing the one Wanda suggested and walking to another woman that is also wearing scrubs. They chat as they walk to the register.

Now Wanda regrets talking to them. What if they used to work with you? What if they tell everyone they saw her and she was being a weirdo talking to them first?

Worried about running into someone else, she hurries up with the shopping, and practically sprints to her car.

It takes her a few minutes to calm down. She forgets about the radio, until it begins playing.

One of your songs.

Wanda doesn’t have time to change the station, getting a call. She doesn’t really notice who it’s from, wishing nothing more than to disappear.

“Miss Maximoff? This is Tommy’s teacher”

Ok, that will distract her for sure.

“Is he ok? Are he and Billy…?”

“We’re gonna need you to come to the principal’s office, please”

—

A fight.

His sweet, wonderful boy getting into a fight. Well, that was a lie. And no one was going to mess with Wanda’s children.

“Sweetheart?” she approaches her boy, sitting outside the Principal’s office. His clothes are dirty, and his hair is full of weeds. “Who did this to you?”

“Miss Maximoff” Principal Coleman says, ushering her inside. “Please, sit down. I know this is pretty much new to you. Your kids have good grades, the teachers love them… but I’m sorry to tell you Tommy got into a fight today”

“Oh, but… he is the sweetest kid. I just can’t imagine him hurting anyone”

“Well, according to Daniel, Tommy was the one who started it” the Principal says, leaning back in her chair.

“Ok, why don’t we ask Tommy about it? Hear his side of the story”

“I already did but if you’d like to, be my guest” the woman says, standing up to open the door for Tommy. “Go on, tell your mom what you told me”

“I started the fight” Tommy mutters, looking at his feet. “I’m sorry”

“Are you ok? And Daniel?”

“Daniel only got a scratch on his arm. Look, this is a first time incident and Daniel’s parents were very understanding, so I’ll let you take the kids home and figure this out. But if it happens again…”

“Yes, of course. Thank you, Principal Coleman. And you said, to take both kids?”

“Yeah, Billy’s pretty upset about it” the Principal says, opening the door for them. “He’s at the library waiting for you”

Wanda walks next to her son, her mind racing. This has never happened, there must a logical explanation. She tries to keep her cool, but when she sees Billy sitting at the library, pulling nervously at his hair, she feels like a girl again, lost and confused.

She doesn’t know what to do or how to make things better.

“Billy, let’s go home” she says, waiting for him to walk out. The boy avoids her eyes, rushing past them and running straight to the exit.

“Mom” Tommy says, but she’s too overwhelmed.

“Later, Tommy”

The ride home is silent. Wanda doesn’t even play music, holding on to the wheel until her knuckles turn white.

You’d know what to do to make it better.

But now you’re gone.

She barely has time to park before Billy runs out of the car, opening the door and going upstairs.

“Wanna tell me what happened?” Wanda says, still in the driver’s seat. Tommy looks away, shrugging his shoulders.

“Daniel was mean”

“That’s not an excuse to hit someone, you know better than that, Tommy” she scolds him. “You’re grounded, go to your room. We’ll talk about this later”

He steps out, his head down. Wanda is waiting for him to walk inside the house when she sees a woman with short, gray hair inspecting her garden.

“Hello. Can I help you?” Wanda says, clearly on edge. She’s not in the mood for any more surprises today.

And as the woman turns around, her jaw drops.

“Mom!”

“Hello, dear”

“Grandma!” Tommy runs back to her. “It’s you!”

“Oh, my! Look at you, it’s been forever since I’ve seen you! You’re so tall” the woman says, hugging her grandson. “Where’s your brother? Did you leave school early?”

“Uh… let’s all get inside. Tommy, tell your brother to come back down, please” Wanda interrupts, knowing she’ll get unwanted advice about parenting as soon as her mother knows what happened at school today. “So, how… I mean when…”

“Mama, I hope your flight was good” Pietro walks up to the door, wrapping his mother in a hug.

“You knew she was coming” Wanda says, feeling her blood boiling.

That little Mama’s boy.

“Don’t make a fuss, Wanda” their mother scolds. “I’m just here to help. And I won’t be staying in your house, your neighbor rents a room down the street. Mrs. Davies, you probably know her”

“Yeah, of course I do” she answers, but her mother is already walking inside, inspecting Pietro.

“Now, how’s recovery? You look so thin, bratan. Oh! You got a dog!” the woman exclaims, Sparky running around her.

This is so not how she expected her day to go at all.

—

Wanda’s not allowed in the kitchen while her mother cooks, and she can’t clean either because that was the first thing Ekaterina Maximoff did as soon as she set foot in the house.

The list of things she can do to get distracted is drastically reduced, so she locks herself in her study, pretending to sketch.

But all she can think about is you.

This is exactly why she doesn’t like to have free time. The memories of how you filled every part of the house with laughter and love are just waiting around the corner to remind Wanda how badly she messed up.

She decides to check on the twins, who should be done with their homework around this time.

But only Billy’s in his bed, playing with a Rubik’s cube you gave him.

“Hey” Wanda says, as she opens the door. “Mind if I sit?”

Billy just shrugs his shoulders, eyes focused on the different colors of the puzzle.

“Wanna tell me what happened in school? Did Tommy really start the fight?”

Billy sighs, and then looks up.

“Daniel said some mean things. Like…”

“Like… sweetheart, you can tell me anything, I promise. I just want to understand what happened” Wanda reassures him, squeezing his hand.

“Daniel said he heard his dad talking about you and Y/N. How it wasn’t right that you were with her and that he was happy she was gone. And then… he said maybe now that Y/N wasn’t around I…” Billy covers his eyes, trying to hide the fact he’s crying.

“Come here” Wanda comforts him, her heart breaking. She’s sorry to say this, but she doesn’t blame Tommy for getting into a fight with Daniel, not after he said all those horrible things.

“He said that now that Y/N’s gone I was going to stop being a weirdo”

“My sweet boy, I am so sorry” Wanda says, kissing the top of his head. “What Daniel said is not ok and his father should teach him better. I promise you I will talk to him about it”

“Don’t be mad at Tommy, he was just upset” Billy asks, wiping the tears. “He misses Y/N and so do I”

“It’s ok” Wanda hugs her baby boy, rubbing his back in a soothing motion. She feels Billy relax against her, hugging her like he used to do before you left.

Correction.

Before Wanda kicked you out.

“Do you miss her?” he asks, his voice small. He knows his mother doesn’t want to talk about you. It upsets her too much.

“Of course I do”

“It’s just… it feels like you don’t care, Mama. Like you don’t even remember her at all” Billy says, crying more.

“I know. I’m not the best at this, darling. I guess I just miss her so much it hurts, and I rather not think about it at all. It’s a silly thing grown ups do”

“Do you know if she’s ok?”

“I think so. I hope so”

“Do you think she misses us too?”

“I’m sure she misses you and Tommy and Sparky”

Truth is, Wanda isn’t sure you have any love left for her. Not enough to miss her, at least.

—

The food tastes like home. Like the summers in the country side, or the cold days of winter where Wanda played with Pietro until Mama called them home for a dinner of warm soup and bread.

“Delicious” Pietro comments after the first bite and Wanda nods.

“I can never get the sauce for the Chkmeruli right” Wanda says, trying to figure out the missing ingredient. “Your is so much better, just like grandma’s”

“I’ll teach you how to get it right” Ekaterina promises. “The secret is in the amount of ingredients. And something that we’re not telling anyone else”

“Alright” Wanda nods.

“Now, boys. Tell me all about school. And your hobbies. Do you play videogames?”

Wanda watches her family interact, laughing at certain things, and looking at her mother with fascination.

There’s a certain guilt that takes over when she understands she wasted three years of her life for something that could have been solved with an honest conversation.

One day, her mother will be gone and she’ll regret not having spent more time with her.

There’s also another regret in the back of her mind.

She wishes you had met her mother.

“Excuse me for a moment” she says, standing up from the table and walking to the bathroom. She covers her mouth to stop from sobbing, but there are tears in her eyes and a weight in her stomach that doesn’t let her sleep or eat or live.

Wanda fucked up so badly and now she’ll never see you again.

“Oh, God” she says, trying to breath, and fix her makeup. She can’t let the boys see her like this.

It’s been an overwhelming day, that’s all.

I’m fine.

“Is everyone done? I’m cleaning the kitchen” she says as soon as she comes back, picking up the plates and rushing past her family.

The cleaning keeps her hands busy and mind at ease, but she's still humming a song, just to focus on something that isn’t those awful thoughts she just had.

“I’m sorry” Pietro says, walking with the help of his cane. “I know it feels like an ambush, and I know you don’t wanna talk about it, but you’re not ok. The kids are always fighting with you, you do everything but talk about what happened and Y/N’s stuff are still in the garage. Maybe… fixing things with Mama can give you some perspective. I don’t know. I’m a burden most of the time, without being able to walk or do more around here. I just wanted to help”

Wanda keeps cleaning, never turning around to ackowledge her brother. He sighs, scratching the back of his head and turning to leave the kitchen.

“You’ll never be a burden, Pietro” is all Wanda says, finally turning to look at him. He smiles.

“Try to get some rest”

“You too”

“Oh, and Daniel definitely deserved to get his ass kicked”

“I agree” Wanda laughs. “Don’t tell the kids, though”

Pietro makes a motion, as if sealing his lips.

Their mom walks to hug him, saying goodbye for the day.

“You can sleep in my room, I can take the couch” Wanda offers.

“None of that. Mrs. Davies is excited over her very first guest and I won’t be the one to disappoint that sweet woman. Get some rest. Tomorrow I’m making borsch”

“You don’t have to cook, I can handle it”

“Of course I have to. Your brother needs to gain some weight!” the woman says, kissing her daughter in both cheeks. She says something in Sokovian about her children eating all that American food, walking out to Mrs. Davies house.

Wanda’s done with cleaning, and she goes upstairs to say goodnight to the kids.

“Hey. You’re not grounded. Ok?” Wanda says when Billy falls asleep, looking at Tommy. “Thank you for looking after your brother”

“I am older by ten minutes” he says, like Pietro always does. Wanda smiles, kissing his forehead.

“Sleep well, sweet boy”

And as she walks to her room, that feels so empty ever since that night one month ago, Wanda’s not sure how long she can handle pretending that one day, your abscence won’t hurt as much.

—

She could fix this.

You always fixed things.

Wanda had gotten the message. You disappeared, no calls or texts, not even to let her know where you were staying.

And when she tried to reach out, you never answered.

But now she was worried and scared, and most of all, sorry for the things she had said to you.

Wanda needed to apologize, to tell you how much she loved you.

But even if that was the only thing on her mind, she was standing outside the hospital, trying to gather the courage to come in.

“Wanda” a voice said behind her. Although it was familiar, Wanda was disappointed when she turned around and saw Carol Danvers.

“Hey… I was just… I was looking for Y/N”

“Oh. Uh… you haven’t heard?” Carol stumbled with her words, caught completely off guard.

“Heard what? Is Y/N ok?” Wanda’s heart began to race… maybe you were injured and it was exactly why you hadn’t replied to any of her messages, or answered the phone when she called.

“Yeah, uh… oh, crap” Carol looked over Wanda’s shoulder. “If I were you I’d run back to my car”

“What?” Wanda turned around, her eyes meeting Darcy’s.

“You!” the brunette barked, walking faster. “You’re about to find out why I got banned from lacrosse in college, Maximoff”

“Let’s calm down” Carol asked, stepping between the two of them.

“No! I will not calm down. I hope you’re proud of yourself, Wanda. You told Y/N everything she’s always been afraid of hearing. That you can’t trust her or the 'we’ll be better without you', fucking fantastic, really!”

“Darcy, come on, we should get back inside” Carol said, pleading with Maria to help her. But Darcy was not done.

“All this bullshit of making her move in with you and be a family for what? To kick her out just because you had a shitty day? Because she was saving a life?”

“I just… I know I screwed up, but if I could just talk to her…”

“Well, for that you’d have to get on a plane to Boston. Because Y/N quit” Darcy said, amused at Wanda’s shocked expression. “Yeah, my best friend left without a second thought because of you. Way to screw over everyone, Wanda”

“I didn’t want this to happen”

“That’s not good enough, unfortunately. You got lucky, because Danver’s here. But I’m being serious, if I see you again I’m gonna make an even bigger scene”

Maria went after Darcy, who was clearly pissed off, leaving Carol and Wanda outside of the hospital.

“Do you know if she’s ok?” Wanda asked, looking down.

“She doesn’t answer anyone’s calls or texts, Wanda. All I know is she quit one week ago and got on a plane to Boston”

“Right… Well, I better go” she said, biting her lip. “Thanks for keeping Darcy from killing me”

“Yeah, we’re understaffed with Y/N gone. So I can’t really let Darcy get arrested” Carol joked, though it was also one way of reminding Wanda her actions had impacted a whole group of people outside of her.

“See you” Wanda nodded, walking fast to her car. Chief Fury almost clashed against her, as Wanda was looking anywhere but the path in front of her.

“I’m sorry”

“Bet you are” the man grumbled, walking to the hospital.

Even another man in a motorcycle couldn’t keep from staring at Wanda, his blue eyes cold as ice.

So, Wanda got on her car, and left without lookig back.

She lost you. Forever.

—-

“Morning” a very upbeat voice speaks as Ekaterina walks down the stairs.

“Morning, Mrs. Davies” she says, smiling.

“Oh, please, call me Sharon. Would you like some coffee?”

“I’ll take some tea”

“Of course. Very healthy!” the woman says, getting everything ready. Ekaterina takes a moment to look around, admiring all the plants in the room and the flower wallpaper.

“Are you a gardener?”

“Only for fun” Sharon says, putting some biscuits in a plate. “Can I just say, I love your accent?”

Ekaterina smiles, but keeps from answering that. Though people were nice about it, she knew others had always been critical of her for not learning “proper” English when her family moved to America.

Which is why she was happy to return to Sokovia when things settled. The US was never her home, even if it was for her children.

“Was the family happy to see you?”

“Oh, yes. Especially my daughter” Ekaterina jokes, though it flies over Sharon’s head. Of course she doesn’t know that they have a complicated relationship. “I do hope she has been a good neighbor to you. I raised her to be kind”

“Oh, she’s great. Always baking stuff for everyone, the kids are very polite and well behaved too. She’s a great girl, just as Y/N. They were good together. I hope Y/N is doing ok” Sharon says, pouring every single detail that Ekaterina wanted to know.

Well, seems like it’s gonna be easier than she thought.

“Yes, this Y/N girl. Can you tell me more about her?” she says in a casual tone, and Sharon is happy to talk about you.

“Well, she moved to the neighborhood like two years ago. She’s a surgeon, always working. Honestly, very quiet but very nice. One time I fell in the sidewalk and she slept in the couch just to make sure someone was around in case I needed something”

Very impressive. It was the kind of thing that would make Ekaterina approve of anyone dating her children.

“And she was with Wanda?”

“Well… I’m not sure I should talk about this” Sharon hesitates for the first time.

“I’m just curious, as a mother…”

Ah, the mother card.

It works so well.

“Of course, you’re right! It’s not like I’ll tell you things you can’t figure out on your own” Sharon laughs, thinking of everything she remembers. “Well, Y/N lived across the street from Wanda, which is probably how they started talking. You know, young people understand each other better than us”

“So they were together?”

“Yes, I think Agatha saw them almost a year ago… on a date or something. And then, it was kinda nice to see Y/N around a bit more. Ya know, it was obvious she was spending more time at home, to help with the boys. They adore her. Always running around with her, playing. It was nice to see them all be a family” Sharon’s enthusiasm dies down.

“And then?”

“Humm” she says, sighing. “I honestly don’t know. The last time I saw Y/N she was walking out of the house and she got into her car. She didn’t have any bags or anything, so I just assumed she was going to the hospital… but then she never came back”

“And you have no idea what happened?” Ekaterina pushes forward, curious to check if the woman’s being honest.

“No, I’m sorry”

“Mudak”

“Oh, can I ask what that word means?” Sharon says, smiling. She loves learning new words.

“It means motherfucker” Ekaterina answers, her accent heavy.

“Wow, ok” Sharon giggles nervously. “You know who could have that information? Agatha. Yeah, her girlfriend works at the hospital. She’s kinda scary”

“Agatha or her girlfriend?”

“Both, definitely both”

“How can I speak to them?” Ekaterina says, trying to piece everything together.

She can manage scary. Especially when she’s looking for answers.

—

Billy’s in a mood again. He didn’t want to go to school, and he’s still refusing to go to soccer practice.

“Daniel’s gonna keep annoying me” he mutters.

“I will speak with his father today” Wanda says, driving them both to school. “I’m sure it’s gonna be fine, sweetheart”

“Y/N would kick his ass” Billy says in a low voice, but Wanda still hears.

“Don’t speak like that. And violence is not the answer”

“Yeah, well, Daniel’s a jerk, his dad too and I want to talk to Y/N. She’s the only one that can make everything right again”

“Enough!” Wanda shouts, pulling up to drop them off. “Y/N’s not coming back. You hear me? She’s gone. We don’t need her, we’ve been fine on our own our whole lives”

“You’re lying. I hate you” he says, running out of the car.

Wanda’s speechless.

This is the first time she’s had a fight with her sweet boys. The first time they’ve been mean or said something to hurt her.

She was expecting this as they got old, maybe 13. But now?

“Bye, Mom” Tommy says, walking after his brother. He’s nervous too. He knows he can’t get into any more trouble or he might get suspended, but Daniel’s not the nicest kid.

“Oh, damn it” she looks behind her to notice Billy left his lunch. “Kids!”

“Hey, Wanda” Richard calls for her. “Heard our guys had a little fight. I was hoping we could talk about it. Maybe over dinner?”

She resists the urge to roll her eyes. Is he really flirting right now?

“Yeah, I should actually…”

“No need to apologize, boys will be boys, right?”

“Apologize?” Wanda tilts her head, the way she always does when she’s pissed. “I wasn’t planning on doing that. And neither is Tommy”

“Well, he started the fight”

“No, Daniel was repeating the stupid things you say. Like how it’s wrong for two women to date. And he also insulted Billy” Wanda says, crossing her arms. “The way I see it, it’s the proverbial talk shit, get hit”

“Wow, ok, no need to get emotional”

“No, I’m not emotional. I’m just saying, if you ever say anything bad about Y/N or my kids and I get wind of it, I’m running you over with my car. See ya, Dick”

Fucking asshole.

Wanda can practically hear you say those words. Though you’d be a lot scarier, telling him all the ways in which he could get hurt using medical terms he wouldn’t even begin to understand.

You’d never let anything bad happen to your family.

Wanda decides to play the loudest music on the way back home. Yes, death metal from her emo phase -something you’d tease her for relentlessly before-.

As she pulls over in the driveway, her mother knocks on the window, making Wanda jump.

“Why are you still listening to that devil music? I thought that phase was over!”

“Mom!”

“Are you ok?”

“Fine”

“Yeah, I can tell”

“Ok, I don’t have time for this, I need to drive Pietro to rehab. Do you need anything from the store?”

“Yes, many things! Like actual paprikash. I can’t believe you buy US made. That’s why you can’t get the food right”

“Seriously?”

“Settle down, you two” Pietro asks, coming out of the house. It was a fun time, being a teenager and hearing his sister and mother argue over every single thing. They’re too much alike, that’s the only problem.

“Anyways, I will go to store, Sharon is letting me drive her car”

“Ok, does she know about the time you almost destroyed a McDonald’s with Papa’s car?”

“He said drive through, so I did!”

“Yeah, through the wall” Pietro laughs, earning a slap on the back of the head from his mother.

“You, go to your thing. And I’m picking up Billy from school today. He doesn’t want to go do soccer, so we’re going to get ice cream” Ekaterina says casually.

“It’s not optional for him! I’m the mom here”

“Just for a day. I hardly think it will affect him if he doesn’t run around like dog after a ball. Take Sparky instead” the woman says.

Wanda wants to scream into a pillow.

—

Ekaterina comes back from the store, but instead of parking outside of Wanda’s, she leaves the car right outside of Agatha’s home.

The investigation continues.

After a knock, a woman with dark, long hair and piercing blue eyes opens the door.

“You the OG Mrs. Maximoff” she greets, standing aside to let her in.

“I don’t know what those words mean. I’m Wanda and Pietro’s mother”

“Ooh, I love the accent. I love learning languages. My girlfriend is teaching me Spanish”

Before Ekaterina can answer, there’s a frantic knock, and Sharon walks inside the minute Agatha opens the door.

“I hope I’m not too late”

“I didn’t know we were having a party” Agatha says. She doesn’t really like visitors, and Mrs. Davies' enthusiasm and corny jokes are an acquired taste.

“Alright. What do you want to know?” Agatha leans back in her chair, intrigued by the woman.

Why not just ask her own daughter? Though, considering how Wanda’s been acting, she’ll probably refuse to answer any questions about it.

“Why did Y/N leave? Where did she go?”

“Ok, so… I need a minute because Rio was telling me everything in Spanish so I could learn. You know, using gossip as motivation” Agatha massages her temples, trying to remember everything. “Ok, there was a new doctor, something, something, cheating, slapping, break up”

“What?” Ekaterina says. “Are you saying that woman slapped my daughter?”

“No! Well, I don’t think so. Ah, screw it! Amor!” Agatha shouts, calling for Rio. “Ponte ropa y baja a contarles el chisme”

“Está bien” a voice says. A few minutes later, another woman joins them in the living room, wearing shorts and a t-shirt.

“You called?”

“Ok, so I kinda lied when I said I understood everything you said in Spanish. I do remember the name Natasha. And something about a kiss” Agatha smiles, and Rio can’t really stay mad when her girlfriend is looking all cute.

“So, a few months ago, Natasha Romanoff came to the hospital to teach a method developed by her mother. The Romanoffs are a very wealthy, very famous family of doctors. And everyone in the hospital kinda noticed that Natasha was flirting with Y/N”

“Did Y/N flirt back? Was she cheating on my daughter?”

“I meaaan, 50/50. The hospital was split. Some people believed that she was just being nice and others thought there were feelings involved”

“What do you think?” Ekaterina presses.

“I think Y/N was just being flirty but she never meant for anything else to happen. She’s just naturally personable. Even she can manage to make me laugh from time to time. So, I don’t know. There was a rumor that Natasha kissed her once or was trying to talk her into breaking up with Wanda… which, I guess has some truth to it, considering Y/N moved to Boston to work for the Romanoffs”

“I’m sorry, then who slapped who?” Mrs. Davies asks, confused.

“Oh, Y/N’s mother outside the hospital, but that's not related to Wanda. Darcy told me that woman is awful. Used to put Y/N through hell when she was a kid”

“Yeah, I know the feeling” Agatha mumbles and Rio places her hand on her shoulder, comforting her.

“I don’t like this Y/N” Ekaterina decides. “She was weak and got my family hurt”

“I don’t think that’s exactly accurate…” Agatha says, feeling the need to defend you. She knows you, and you’d never do anything to hurt Wanda. Not on purpose. “Look, I was looking for my bunny that night. Little shit likes to escape out of the blue. Wanda was the one who ended things. I heard that loud and clear. And yes, it seems messy, but I don’t think it’s fair to blame it all on someone”

“Yeah, Y/N really loved the kids and took care of Wanda” Sharon insists. Ekaterina sighs, crossing her arms.

“I don’t suppose anyone knows how to get in touch with Y/N”

Agatha, Rio and Sharon share a look.

“I could try” Rio offers, thinking Darcy might be in touch with you.

“Thank you. Now I go to pick up Billy from school. I appreciate your help”

“I actually need the car for a bit” Sharon asks, but the woman is already gone. “Oh, well”

—

True to her word, Ekaterina picked up Billy from school, while Tommy was supposed to ride with Sharon and her kid to soccer.

Wanda wasn’t really looking forward to practice today, in case Richard was there.

Thankfully, it seemed like Daniel was here with his mother, but Wanda’s stomach dropped when Susan walked up to her.

“Wanda, can we talk for a sec?”

“Yeah, sure”

They walked away from the rest of the parents.

“Look, I know what Daniel said and I already talked to him about it. He’ll apologize to Tommy and Billy, but I wanted to tell you personally how asahmed I am. Those awful things are all Richard and I really don’t want Daniel to be like his father”

“Oh… wow. I don’t know what to say” Wanda laughs, relieved. “Your ex had a very different approach to this whole situation”

“I know, he’s an asshole”

Both women laugh at that.

“I was going to say, he can speak to Tommy after practice, but I haven’t seen him today. Or Billy”

“Oh, Billy’s with my mother. But Sharon picked up Tommy…” though when Wanda looks around the field, she doesn’t see her son. Spotting Sharon, she runs up to her. “Hey, Tommy rode with you, right?”

“What? Wanda, he said he was feeling ill and that you were going to pick him up”

“No, that never… I-I don’t have any missed calls. No one from school told me anything. Shit!” she curses, her hands shaking. Her mother takes forever to pick up the phone. “Is Tommy with you? No, I know Billy’s there. What about Tommy? Ok, I don’t have time to explain, meet me at home now”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think to call you” Sharon says.

“No, no. It’s fine. I’m sure it’s fine” Wanda repeats, trying to calm herself.

Her first instinct is to call you.

But then she has to think really hard on what to do, so she calls Pietro to make sure Tommy isn’t home by some weird miracle. Should she call the cops? The fire department?

Clint, he will know what to do.

“Ok, I’ll meet you at your house, it’s gonna be fine” Clint says.

“You good to drive?” Susan says, walking Wanda to the car.

“Yes. I’m sure it’s all a misunderstanding and Tommy’s in his room playing videogames”

“Well, ok, if you need anything here’s my number” the woman says.

Wanda goes over everything that could have happened. Tommy likes to visit the library, the park on Fullton street, the comic book store…

Clint’s already there when she gets home, and Ekaterina parks a second later.

“Billy, come here” Wanda kneels to look at her son. “Did Tommy tell you anything? Was he going somewhere?”

Billy shakes his head no, and Wanda insists.

“Sweetheart, are you sure? I promise I won’t be mad”

“I don’t know, I swear”

“Alright, I just spoke to my friend at the station. They’re gonna start looking for him. Pietro should stay here in case Tommy comes back or someone calls home. The rest of us could split and check places we know he frequents” Clint says.

“Billy, stay with uncle Pietro” Wanda asks. The boy nods, walking up the stairs to meet his uncle, who puts his arm around his shoulders.

“I’ll go to the arcade” Clint offers. “Ask if anyone’s seen him”

“We’ll go to the park” Wanda nods, waiting for her mother to join her in the car. She can’t even begin to understand what’s happening.

Wanda doesn’t know what to do, but she has to remain calm, because her son needs her.

—

Tommy’s begining to think this is a bad idea. He doesn’t have a lot of money and he doesn’t have a clue on what bus will take him to Boston.

He should be at soccer practice now.

He finds a cafeteria not far from school, and goes inside hoping he can get some free water.

“You alone, sweetheart?” the waitress says, concerned.

“No, my mom is in the bathroom” he lies and the woman doesn’t seem entirely convinced. Either way, she leaves him alone. Tommy takes the time to dig in his backpack for some extra coins that might be in there.

Instead he finds a letter and a couple of pins.

After reading it, he walks up to the waitress and finally tells the truth.

“I ran away. Can you help me find my mom?”

“Of course, sweetheart”

—-

“Where should we go?” her mother asks, and Wanda points in the direction of the lake.

“He liked to feed the ducks with Y/N”

“Ok, then”

They walk in silence, Wanda’s thoughts racing until her mother speaks.

“I lost you once. You were four or five, maybe, and we were at the market. While your brother picked out the apples, you decided to run after a chicken. And I was so scared, calling for you in the sea of people”

“Yeah. It’s an awful feeling” Wanda says, wiping away the tears.

They walk around the park for ten minutes before deciding he’s not here. Tommy’s nowhere to be found. He’s a ten year old, for God’s sake, where on Earth could he be?

Before she has time to think it twice, Wanda picks up the phone and dials your number.

“Hello?”

That’s not your voice.

It’s Natasha’s.

Wanda hangs up, and adds this to the list of shitty things that have happened to her in the span of two days.

“Mom, I can’t!” she finally breaks down. “I don’t know how to fix this. I miss her so much and I ruined everything and she’s never coming back. And now my boys hate me and I have nothing. All because I was so stuck in the past. And I lost her”

“Breathe. Breathe for me” Ekaterina pulls her daughter into a hug, while Wanda’s body shakes with the strenght of her sobs. “It’s ok. It will be ok”

“It doesn’t feel like it”

“Trust me” she says, waiting until Wanda calms down. After a few minutes, she wipes her tears and looks at her mother. Wanda’s about to say something else when her phone rings again.

“Oh, it’s Clint. Hello? Yes, where? Ok, send me the address and I’ll be right there” she hangs up, sprinting to the car. “He’s at a cafeteria not far from school”

“Thank God”

It’s only a five minute drive but to Wanda it feels like an eternity. As soon as she parks, she spots Tommy sitting at the counter, drinking a milkshake while a waitress talks to him, trying to ease his nerves.

“Is that your mom?” the woman says when Wanda gets inside. Tommy’s eyes widen, and he runs towards her.

“Mama!”

“Oh, Tommy. I was so worried about you”

“I’m sorry”

“It’s ok. I’m just happy you’re safe. Let’s go home”

—

The kids are safely tucked in bed, and Wanda’s having a glass of wine in the kitchen. She’d drink something stronger if she had anything at all.

Her mind goes back to the fact Natasha picked up your phone.

It doesn’t mean you’re with her. And even if you were, Wanda was the one that broke up with you.

Then why did it hurt so much to think you’d already moved on?

With a sigh, she goes up the stairs. Wanda can’t help but go into her children’s room, just to make sure they’re both safe.

When she asked Tommy what happened, he just said he wanted to go and see you. But then he changed his mind when he found something in his backpack. Though he wouldn’t tell Wanda what it was.

As the woman walks up to her children, she notices a letter tucked under Tommy’s pillow.

Could this be the thing he found?

Billy and Tommy,

Hey kiddos. This isn’t something I’m happy about and I never really wanted to write a letter like this one.

You might not see me anymore. I know it sucks, because I promised I’d take you to the state fair and Universal Studios when the school year was over.

The thing is, sometimes grown ups have a lot of complicated things going on. Sometimes things don’t work out no matter how much we try.

Be good to your mom, ok? If you miss me and want me to be less worried about you, just promise me you’ll love her extra for me. You are her biggest treasure and she’s such a great mom. Don’t forget you’re all each other have.

PS - I’m leaving my lucky pins with you. Please take care of them for me.

Love you three,

Y/N

Of course.

Of course it was you.

Even if you were thousand of miles away, you had found a way to help Wanda and keep her family safe.

Now she won’t be able to sleep at all, so she goes downstairs to the garage, full of boxes with your clothes and books.

For the first time since you left, Wanda allows herself to look at everything you left behind, and everything you did. The smallest things, like how you always forget to wear glasses to read, and you end up with a frown. Sunday’s crossword puzzle, always discarded. It’s not that you don’t finish it, the opposite. You know the answers to everything so fast that writing them is a waste of time.

Wanda pulls out your college sweatshirt, hugging it tight against her chest.

She misses you, so much it hurts.

As she puts on the sweatshirt, Wanda folds the sleeves, slightly long for her shorter arms.

When she’s about to close the box, she sees it.

A small box. For a ring.

An engagement ring.

She let’s out a gasp as she opens it.

You were proposing.

And all Wanda did was question your committment and your love for her and the children.

I’m such an idiot.

She doesn’t have much time to wallow, though. Wanda’s phone rings, and her mouth goes dry when she reads the name on the screen.

You.

Looking between her phone and the ring, Wanda doesn’t know what to do.

Should she tell you she found the ring?

Would it make a difference at all?

[andvys]

The edges of your soul (I haven’t seen yet) ⭐︎ chapter two

⭐︎ can you see right through me?

Warnings: angst, misunderstandings, post apocalypse, gore, mentions of death, grumpy!steve, grumpy x sunshine

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 5k+

Summary: You didn’t think that trying to get close to Steve would end up hurting your feelings — but you also didn’t expect to get a glimpse of who he once was, before the darkness of this world dimmed the light in his eyes.

Authors note: Buckle up for the next chapter y’all, it’s gonna be something. always a shoutout to @hellfire--cult who always takes her time to edit and write with me 🩷

⭐︎ series masterlist

⭐︎ prologue ⭐︎ previous chapter

☀︎

On the first day of your official stay in Hawkins, Nancy took you to the greenhouse, you spent all day gardening, taking care of the crops, watering vegetables and fruit, picking the ripe ones and planting new seeds – it amazed you how well everything was growing, you didn’t think that it would be possible after seeing the effects this world had on nature but you suppose that miracles exist after all. 

By the end of the day, your knees hurt, your hands felt sore and there was too much soil and dirt under your fingernails, not that you would ever complain, you haven’t felt as much happiness as you did when Steve told you that you were allowed to stay since… well, since your college acceptance letter and that is too long ago. 

On your second you cooked french toast with leftover bread that Nancy had made the day before, using fresh eggs – you were surprised when you found out about the little stable with chickens behind the garden, you thought most animals had died. You made ratatouille for dinner, using the freshly picked vegetables from the greenhouse. Nancy and Eddie had complimented your cooking skills, though the reaction you were mostly looking forward to was Steve’s, he only hummed in approval and he got a second plate, you took that as a good sign. 

Today, you haven’t been assigned to any tasks yet and you don’t exactly know what to do when you walk down the stairs to find the house empty, well, mostly empty. There are no signs of Eddie and Nancy, you don’t hear him humming, you don’t hear her walking around in the kitchen or somewhere else, the only one around is Steve. He is in the living room, standing in front of the window, holding a cup in one hand while the other is propped against his hip. 

The smell of coffee lingers in the air, it must be his third cup, he already had one before breakfast, another during it. You wonder if he is just addicted to the bitterness of it – it certainly matches his attitude. Or if he is just tired and in need of something to keep him awake, you have a feeling that he doesn’t sleep much. 

“Where’s everyone?” 

Steve doesn’t even flinch, he heard you walking down the stairs, he felt your eyes on him. 

“Eddie is working on the RV,” he grumbles, still not fond of the idea of leaving, nothing will change his mind, he is just waiting for his friends to drop it. “Nancy is with him.”

You nod even though he can’t see you. You look around, still holding onto the railing of the stairs. The house is spotless, clean, not a single grain of dust lying around. Eddie is cooking dinner tonight, so there isn’t anything for you to do around here. 

Steve takes one last sip and then he puts the mug on the coffee table, not even glancing at you as he turns around and reaches for the gear he had left by the doorway. He puts the gun into his holster, secures the walkie into his belt and lastly he picks up his rifle before he starts making his way over to the door. 

“Wait, where are you going?” You ask, not hesitating to follow him. 

“Patrol.” 

You furrow your eyebrows at him, shaking your head, “I thought you said it’s a two man job.” 

He rolls his eyes and stops walking, turning around, he looks down at you, “Eddie and Nancy are busy–”

“I’m not,” you shrug, giving him a smug smile, knowing that he isn’t fond of your company. “I’m coming with you.”

“Can’t you find something else to do–”

“No, I cannot.” You interrupt him as you reach for the door knob and open it, “can’t let you break the rule and let you go out there by yourself, who knows what you might run into. I’m gonna keep an eye out for you, maybe you’ll get distracted with your shoelaces again!” 

Steve huffs, clenching his jaw. His eyes move up and down your body, eying your belt, the knives tucked into it, the gun in your thigh holster – he has a hard time believing that any of those things have been used by your hands, you couldn’t even kill the man that had attacked you when you had the chance to – he heard your conversation with Eddie that night, heard what happened, what almost happened to you, you could have killed that man, you should have, but you didn’t. 

People like you are not made for this world, it will get you sooner or later. 

“Like you’d be able to do anything,” he murmurs under his breath as he steps out onto the porch and shuts the door behind him. 

“What was that?” You turn around to face him. 

“Nothing.” 

Steve brushes past you, not glancing at you but motioning with his hand for you to follow him, “c’mon.” He makes big steps, fast ones too, forcing you to catch up with him when he is already past the gate and out on the road, walking down the empty street, he ignores the way your footsteps get louder as you hurry to get to his side. 

“Jesus, slow down, cowboy.” 

Steve scrunches his nose up, furrowing his eyebrows at the nickname you have just called him by. 

“Cowboy?” He scoffs as he turns to look at you to see you nodding already, a small but smug smile on your lips, though you look right ahead and not at him. “Why, cowboy?” 

“You’re so grumpy and brooding.”

He scoffs again, like you said something crazy, like you didn’t say the truth. 

“Who says that cowboys are grumpy and brooding?” 

You shrug, “there’s two types of cowboys, the flirty funny ones and the grumpy, brooding ones!”

Steve looks away from you, shaking his head a little. He can’t fight you, knowing you’re right about one thing, he is grumpy. He no longer is the guy he was before all of this, this world that has changed him, and not for the better. He was forced to kill the boy in him when he realized how much he was hurting someone he once loved dearly, he became better, he became a good guy but that guy got his heart broken – that was for the better, as much as it hurt at that time, it was for the better. He became better, he stopped caring about what other people thought of him, he found new friends, he found a best friend, his soulmate. 

Robin.

Robin made his world a better place, she fixed his broken heart, she taught him what it was like to have a real friend, an actual best friend. She taught him that love didn’t always have to be romantic, that it could be platonic and that this love could be just as strong as any other. 

They had so many plans for the future: leave Hawkins, live in a big city, get a place, figure out a future together. 

But then this happened, the world got uglier than before, evil. Their plans got crushed and they were ripped apart. She changed and he did too, and now he can’t be with her whenever he wants, too many things are in the way. 

This world had forced him to kill the person he was before all this, he was forced to kill himself a second time. 

Steve looks back at you, you don’t seem fazed by this world at all. You’ve been attacked not too long ago and not even that has fazed you, he doesn’t know you, doesn’t know half of your story and all the things you have been through since the day the world had gone to shit but from what he heard, you have seen – encountered some ugly things out there and yet there is something about you, something pure, something… good, something he didn’t think was still out there but he can see it. 

He can see it in your eyes, no ounce of hatred resides in them, only goodness, hope that should not even be a thing in this world. You are the complete opposite of him, you are bright, so bright that it almost blinds him, you are all smiles and giggles – and you are so goddamn talkative. 

Thirty minutes into patrolling and he fears his ear might fall off from listening to you jumping from one topic to another. So far you have talked about all your favorite movies, bands and books, told him of a specific cowboy character that he reminds you of before saying how much he looks like Patrick Swayze or well, how much his hair looks like Patrick Swayze’s. 

You are chattering away, not minding the huffs and sighs that keep falling from his mouth, a signal for you to just shut up. He begins to regret his decision to let you stay. 

“I think I made a grave mistake.” He murmurs as he looks around the empty neighbourhood, looking out for any signs of monsters or sick ones. 

“What?”

“Nothing. Do you ever shut up?” 

To his surprise, you do shut up and for a moment the only thing heard are yours and his footsteps and the leaves rustling from the wind. With a heavy sigh, he turns to look at you. You are pressing your lips together, looking down at the asphalt. He turns away again in satisfaction, enjoying the silence… the silence that doesn’t last long. 

“You called the monster demobat before, what does that mean?”

He restrains his eye roll, tries not to clench his jaw. 

“Uh…” He pauses, he keeps forgetting that the world doesn’t call the monsters by the names the teens have given them. “Eddie is a fan of a game and he used a name from there to name them…” He cringes at himself. 

“Oh!” You say in that voice, the one that pisses him off, the cheerful one. “What game?”

“Dungeons and Dragons.” He replies, hoping that answer is satisfying enough and you finally give him some peace. 

“Do you play?” 

Steve sighs, tightening his hold on the rifle in his hands. It was a mistake to let you come with him, he hates talking, hates answering questions, hates company. 

“No.”

You furrow your eyebrows, tilting your head at him. 

“Why not?”

“I don’t have the patience to learn all of that,” he shrugs. 

“Why?” 

Steve takes a deep breath, he is getting irritated by all your questions but he still turns to you, scrunching his face up as he shrugs again, “I-I don’t know, I don’t wanna be a nerd like him?”

You raise your eyebrows, lips parting, your head is still tilted – you look like a fucking curious puppy, he has to look away. He almost sighs in relief when he sees the house at the end of the road. 

“It’s a nerd game?”

He huffs loudly, glaring at nothing in particular, “seriously, can you keep quiet for more than two seconds!?” He snaps at you, forcing you to be quiet… for a moment. 

He counts the seconds, one… two… You are quiet, it’s almost nice to enjoy the silence again, almost. 

He hears you taking a deep breath. 

“What was your job before the world ended? Cop?” 

Three seconds. Three fucking seconds. 

“Jesus Christ,” he murmurs under his breath and he finally stops walking, looking up at the sky, he places his hands on his hips and takes a deep breath before he turns to face you. 

You halt in your tracks and turn to face him as well, taking in the sight of his deep frown, of the irritation in his hazel eyes and the annoyance that radiates right off him. You almost get nervous, almost. 

“What the fuck,” he grumbles at you, “are you always this talkative?” He asks, stunned. He will be forced to get used to this. 

“You don’t ask me anything, so I have to make conversation,” you shrug, pulling your hands up in front of you, “I haven’t had a good talk in months, I have pent up words.” 

And you chose him out of… three people – that is… he doesn’t know what to think of this. 

“Yeah, Eddie is the best choice for this, not me.” 

The frown on your face says otherwise, your eyes move up and down before they stop at his face again, he doesn’t know what you are exactly looking at or searching for but he needs you to stop. He shifts and huffs again, tapping his fingers against the rifle that he holds on for dear life. 

“But I want to talk to you.” 

He blinks, staring at you like he didn’t understand what you just said, he tries not to look at anything but your eyes.

“Horrible decision.” 

You break eye contact, looking away to take in the view around you, you sigh at his words and shrug before you continue walking, making him follow you this time. 

“I don’t think so.” You pause and look back over your shoulder to see if he is following. “Don’t you have any questions for me?”

“Uh…”

He does. 

But he won’t ask. He can’t. He just can’t, the less he knows the better. 

He looks down awkwardly, clearing his throat, “how old are you?” 

This time you scoff and shake your head at him, “seriously?” 

“What?” He frowns, looking up to see you staring at him with a confused pout – jesus christ. 

You sigh and roll your eyes, of course he asks the most boring question. 

"Twenty-two."

His eyes widen and his lips part – this might be the first other expression you see on his face other than the constant frown. He stares like you have grown two heads. 

“You’re a fucking year older than me!?” 

Oh. 

Oh… 

You didn’t expect to be older than him either, though you aren’t as surprised as he is, he looks shocked even. He stops walking again, you do too. 

“So… what about it…?” You ask quietly, lifting your shoulders.

Steve notices the unsure look on your face, the way your eyes move back and forth between his own and the ground, the way you cross your arms over your chest, like you are suddenly insecure.

He clears his throat, straightening up as he blinks himself out of his stupor. 

“I… nothing. Nevermind.” He retorts, ready to drop that topic. 

“No, tell me.” 

For some reason, he can’t look at you when he opens his mouth again. 

“You don’t act your age.”

“Oh?” Your voice is suddenly higher than before, hopeful, “do I act older?” 

He pulls his brows together, not looking at you yet, finding the ground beneath him very interesting all the sudden. 

“...Sure.” 

You don’t reply this time, don’t say anything to it, don’t ask any more questions, you simply turn around after a beat of silence, you start walking again, giving him your back. 

He counts the seconds, one… two… three. You give him the silence that he wanted this whole time. You don’t look at him either. He got what he wanted but when the awkwardness fills the space between you both, he suddenly feels a sliver of guilt rising up in him, he knows he must’ve hit a sore spot and he can’t help but kick himself for it. 

A part of him wants to apologize, the other wants him to stay quiet – the stronger side wins though. 

“I uh–”

Though you don’t give him the chance to keep going, you pick up your pace when you see Nancy on the porch, walking away from him quickly, not wanting to spend another second beside him. 

He watches you basically flee from him, it makes him sigh and it makes him halt in his tracks. Frustration bubbling up inside of him, a voice in his head calling him ‘dumbass’. He sighs softly, brings his hand up to his head, he runs his fingers through it nervously. 

He hit a sore spot, one that made you stop talking to him, one that prevented him from finding out more about you. 

It’s for the better. 

Yeah, he knows it’s for the better. 

-

Eddie cooked dinner and Nancy set the table tonight, neither of them noticed the lack of attention you were giving to the man sitting across from you or how he kept looking at you, not with hatred or anger in his eyes but with guilt. 

He hates that feeling, he hates feeling guilt or regret towards someone he barely knows, towards someone he does not want to let in. He knows that he hurt you with what he said, with how he reacted, he didn’t mean to, he couldn’t have known either – he didn’t react badly, he thought, and yet it shut you up and it made you stop looking at him. 

It’s for the better. He kept telling that to himself, kept repeating it in his head, over and over again until he could no longer stand these words. 

He notices that your plate is still filled with food, you only ate half of it. The whole time you sat there and pushed around the vegetables on your plate, you looked a little lost, your eyes were troubled, you looked far gone, like you weren’t at the table. Nancy and Eddie didn’t notice as they were busy talking about some news Dustin had shared from the radio station earlier. 

“You’re gonna like Dustin,” Eddie says, nudging your shoulder. 

Steve watches the way you blink, the way you plaster a smile on your face before you look at Eddie. 

Nancy hums, nodding, “yeah, he was always my favorite out of my brother’s friends.” 

You squint your eyes, like you are trying to remember something, “your brother is… Mike, right?” 

“Yeah, hold on!” She gets up all the sudden, walking away from the table and out of the room, she comes back a moment later with a book in her hand – a photo album. She sits back down beside you and pushes away her empty plate before she slams the album on the table and opens it, flipping the pages, she furrows her eyebrows as she looks for a certain picture, “wait… there it is!” 

She points at the picture of a group of four boys, dressed in Ghostbusters costumes. A smile instantly appears on your face and your eyes light up, “aw! They’re little Ghostbusters!” 

Eddie chuckles at the picture, even Steve smiles but you don’t notice. 

“That’s Mike,” she points at her brother, before she moves her finger to the boys next to him, “that’s Will and Lucas, and lastly that is Dustin!” She points at the curly haired boy. 

“Adorable,” you smile, thinking of your own brother. “My brother loves Ghostbusters too, although he’s way older than they are.” You chuckle. 

Steve���s eyes are back on you, he didn’t know you had a brother… but then again, he doesn’t know anything about you. It’s for the better. 

“Well, that was a few years back, they’re not the tiny humans they used to be,” Nancy laughs sadly. She flips to the next page, “that’s them now – or well, that was them before the world went to shit, I’m sure Mike is even taller now and his hair is longer too.”

The picture shows them at a skatepark, Dustin is grinning into the camera, Mike’s arms are crossed, a grumpy look resting on his face, Will is smiling, Lucas is looking down at the girl leaning into his side. 

“That’s Max,” Eddie points at the redhead, “she’s kinda scary.” 

You giggle at the serious tone in his voice. 

“I have to agree with that.” Steve snorts, earning a short glance from you. He pulls his sleeves up and leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Your eyes lock with his for a moment, though you quickly look back down.

There is another picture of Mike and Dustin, both of them wearing the same shirt – The Hellfire Club. 

“What’s that?” You point at their matching shirts to which Eddie straightens up in his seat, already grinning. 

Nancy and Steve groan at him, causing you to frown. 

“I’m glad you asked, sweetheart.” He pauses, looking at Steve smugly. 

“That was his nerdy game club that I told you about before,” he rolls his eyes. 

“You didn’t tell me he had a club!” 

“Shame on you, Harrington. It was the best thing to ever exist beside Corroded Coffin, of course.” 

You know all about Eddie’s band already, he told you about it on your first night here, and showed you pictures of his sweetheart. 

“I beg to differ–”

Nancy sighs loudly beside you, leaning back in her chair as she prepares herself for their banter. 

“Dustin, my buddy, was very passionate about the club.” Eddie grins. 

“Oh yeah, that little nerd you stole from me?” Steve retorts, squinting his eyes at the metalhead. 

“I didn’t steal him, I’m just cooler than you, Harrington–”

“You– You literally play a boardgame, how is that cool? I was prom king!” 

“Oh my god,” Nancy mumbles, shaking her head. 

Her reaction tells you that she is used to this, and sick of it. 

You though, you can’t help but be amused, looking back and forth between them. 

“Cry me a river, Henderson thinks I’m better, in fact, all teens do.” Eddie shrugs and reaches for his beer. 

“Except Lucas,” Steve smirks. 

Eddie nearly chokes on his beer when he straightens up in his seat, “I apologized!” 

Steve shrugs at him this time, taking a sip of the whiskey he poured himself earlier. 

“What about you, sweets?” Eddie asks, turning to look at you, “what did you do in high school?”

Nancy turns to you, as well as Steve – and suddenly all eyes are on you and you can’t help but feel a little flustered beneath their gazes. 

“I uh… I was prom queen…” You admit shyly, not looking at the hazel eyes that stare at you intensely.

Eddie’s eyes widen, “oh, we have royalty up in here, Wheeler.” 

Nancy giggles at his reaction, more so at the look on your face. She’s not surprised, you’re beautiful and sweet. 

“You were prom queen?” 

Out of the three people around you, you least expected him to ask you anything, but just like before, the tone in his voice, his reaction leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. You slowly look up at him. 

“You sound surprised and I’m kinda offended. Am I that ugly?” you joke but he notices how your shoulders fall a little. 

His cheeks heat up and he wants nothing more than to roll his eyes at Nancy’s and Eddie’s judging faces towards him. He shakes his head at you, “I– no, I didn’t mean that… I mean it’s not all about looks anyways.” 

You purse your lips and furrow your eyebrows at his words, taking a deep breath, “...so I am ugly?”

Nancy huffs beside you, glaring daggers into Steve. 

“I didn’t say that, I’m just saying that apart from looks… people vote for nice people,” he mumbles, shifting in his seat and under your gaze. 

Nancy is back to pinching the bridge of her nose, begging him with her eyes to just shut up. 

If only you looked to your right, you would have seen the stunned and comical look on Eddie’s face. 

“So you’re saying I’m nice?” You tilt your head at Steve, growing a little satisfied with the way he is squirming around. 

He sighs, clenching his jaw and turns away from you, “I’m done with this conversation.” 

“...You were a fucking asshole in high school. You got prom king because Billy was a bigger asshole.” 

“Were?” You blurt out, making him look back at you stunned. 

Nancy hides her giggle with a cough, earning a glare from him. 

“He redeemed himself at Scoops Ahoy,” Eddie smirks, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“Scoops Ahoy?” 

Steve shakes his head at him, if looks could kill, Eddie would be lying on the floor, right now. 

“Mhmm,” Eddie nods. “He was an ice cream man, and wore a sailor outfit too.” 

“Wait, what?” You ask, stunned. You can’t even imagine that. “I refuse to picture him in a silly sailor outfit, I need proof or else I won’t believe it.” 

“Too bad. Every picture of me in that outfit is burned.” Steve declares, looking very convinced until he sees the smirk on Nancy’s face.

He clears his throat before he leans closer to the table, “Nancy Wheeler… do you have a fucking picture–”

“No, I was just smiling,” she shrugs but pulls out two pictures from the album and hands them to you, giving him a smug smile.

“No way,” you mumble as you take a good look at them. There he is, the man you thought had a serious job before all of this actually worked at an ice cream shop, wearing a sailor outfit, in the first picture he even wears a silly hat as he serves ice cream to someone not part of the picture. His hair was much shorter back then, so different from the mullet he now has. His eyes are crinkled, his smile so big and bright, his cheeks slightly pink, unlike the pale color in them now. He looked so different, he looked happy, he looked like a different person. 

You glance over at him to find him staring at you already, watching you. His hazel eyes are cold, the frown on his face so deep you are surprised there aren’t any lines on his skin yet, the light in his eyes has faded. There is nothing left of the guy he was before, at least at first glance. 

You look back down and focus on the second picture, placing it on top of the other – it turns out to be a mistake because for some reason, your eyes like what they see, a little too much. With his hands behind his back, he stands against a brick wall, wearing the same sailor outfit, though this time without the hat, his hair styled yet messy, a hint of a smile pulling at his lips. You don’t know what it is about that picture, perhaps it’s his broad shoulders, the blonde highlights in his hair, the tanned skin or the way the golden light shines on him but he looks handsome – it’s something you haven’t noticed before, you aren’t blind, he is a good looking man but you couldn’t really see it before, not this clearly at least. His rude and mean attitude made it impossible to see, you couldn’t look past it. 

Your cheeks heat up a little, your ears do too, you sink deeper into your seat, hoping that none of them notice how flustered you feel. 

But Eddie does, he notices the way your eyes are basically glued to that picture, Nancy notices as well – they both glance at each other, amused. And Steve, he notices too, of course he does… The Steve from back then would have loved it, the flustered look on your face. 

As you hold the picture, you notice that the sides are frazzled, like a part is missing, like something or someone was cut out of both pictures. You look over them, taking a look at all the pictures lying around, of the teenagers, of other people you haven’t anything about yet, of Nancy’s family, of Eddie and Dustin and it only now dawns on you, that you stepped into something, that these people haven’t found each other in this world but in the one before – a tight circle, a family. 

A family you don’t belong in, you intruded – and now even more than before, you understand why Steve didn’t want you here, it wasn’t only about him not trusting you, it was about you stepping into something he didn’t want you to be a part of. 

This is his place of comfort that he didn’t want to share with a stranger. 

You hand the picture back to Nancy and reach for the wine Eddie had poured for you earlier, you take a big sip. 

Maybe you should have left when he told you to, maybe you should have done him a favor, you shouldn’t have broken into someone else’s home. 

“Is your brother older or younger?”

It wasn’t Nancy’s voice, nor was it Eddie’s.

It’s Steve’s. 

Not only do you look at him in surprise but also Nancy and Eddie. He ignores them though, keeping his eyes on you. 

You blink, putting the wine glass back down, you lick your lips. 

“Uh… he is older, he’s twenty four.” 

“Is he with your parents?” Nancy asks. 

You nod. 

“Yeah, he was home from college when it all… started. That idiot broke his leg during lacrosse, I don’t know why he kept trying with it, he was never the most athletic,” you chuckle. 

“Yeah, me neither. I always hated anything sport related,” Eddie says with wide eyes, earning a snort from Steve. 

“You’d get along well, he’s a major nerd.”

“Are you calling me a nerd, sweetheart?” Eddie pretends to be offended. 

“Uh,” you look him up and down, “yeah, major nerd just like my brother.”  

He nudges your side with his elbow, chuckling at the look on your face. 

Steve hides the smile on his face, looking down at his hands. 

“I’m hoping to get home, see a big gate surrounding my house, and I bet that asshole has a semi-automatic somewhere and is pretending to be in a zombie movie or something,” you chuckle. “He always dragged dad and me to the theater and forced us to watch the goriest shit. I used to hate it, now I want it back more than anything.” 

“Hey,” Eddie says softly, smiling at you. “Maybe you’ll do it again someday, maybe not at the theater but you could do movie nights with your family.” 

And his smile slowly fades again, he doubts that you will see your family again, he doubts that you’ll find them how you want to. He thinks it’s wrong of Eddie to fuel your hope, he is doing more damage than anything else and it’s gonna hurt even more when you find your family dead. 

There is no hope for anything or anyone in this world, it’s a foolish thing to have. 

You shrug, a smile on your face as you get up from the table to rush upstairs. Everyone just sits there wide eyed, looking at each other, hearing how there’s some stumping and then, something falling, and then you are cursing. Two seconds later you are coming back downstairs with something in your hands.

“This is my family.” You put the polaroids on the table, the ones you took back to camp so you would not miss your family so much. “That’s my mom, my dad, and the idiot of my brother.” 

They all grab a picture each. Eddie’s picture was of the four of you smiling while camping. Nancy’s was a picture of a family trip to the grand canyon, but Steve’s picture was something that made his heart shrink for some reason. The four of you were laughing, surrounding a christmas tree. You were younger, probably a teen, and it made him think of how now your personality made sense. 

You were never shown anything but love. Something he never experienced from his own family. He was slightly jealous at your picture, and he knew you were the only one between the four of you that had a normal and loving family. Nancy’s parents didn’t seem to love one another, Eddie’s father was an abusive asshole that ended up in jail and his mother passed away, and then there was Steve. Even with the apocalypse happening, his parents didn’t even care to find him. Find out if he was dead or not.

His eyes moved upwards to find you looking at him, and he wondered why you had a frown on your face. It wasn’t a second later that he felt his eyes burning and you could see the glistening of tears forming. He can’t cry. It’s stupid to cry about his family now. It’s stupid to cry about something he knew all along. It’s stupid to cry over people that he knew never cared for him.

“Your brother looks like Eddie.” Nancy suddenly speaks, making him look at her as well as you and Eddie. The metalhead tilts his head as he grabs Nancy’s picture and– 

“Ha, ha, very funny.” Sure, it was a picture of you four in the grand canyon, but it was your dad’s birthday, and your dad has a fear of pigs. Your brother had the greatest idea to put a pig's head over his head for the picture, and your dad was simply screaming bloody murder while you and your mom laughed.

“I mean, my brother doesn’t play that game you do, but he is a fan of star wars, and he read a lot of books! He liked one called The Hobbit?” Nancy and Steve groaned loudly at your words, which made you confused for just a few seconds and then you realized your mistake when Eddie was talking your ear off about why your brother was so cool, and the reason for that was because the plot for the hobbit was incredible.

And he explained it bit by bit and you didn’t know how to escape him. He was still talking about it like a kid on christmas as Nancy and Steve started washing the dishes, and you wanted to hit yourself for your big mouth. In all fairness, you didn’t know Eddie was gonna get as excited as he did.

“Anyways, what matters is, your brother is cool, so is Dustin and the other teens and Steve sucks.” At the sudden insult, Steve turns around with his hands covered in soap.

“What?” Eddie opened his mouth to probably repeat his words, only for Steve to shake his hands on his face, making the soap fly all around as well as water, and getting into Eddie’s mouth.

“GOD–” He screeched loudly as he got up from the table, rushing towards the sink to try to wash his tongue with the water while Nancy screamed at him to not waste it. Steve was smirking and all you could do was just stare at him. He was being playful. He was being more than the grumpy self he claimed to be with you. You started laughing loudly when Eddie insulted Steve with his tongue out, trying to not taste the soap anymore.

Steve shrugged as he wiped his hands away, turning to look at you doubling over in laughter and it made him feel less guilty for his actions of before. You weren’t immature. Your world was just always filled with love and affirmations, and you just wanted people to feel the same exact way you felt. It was a lost cause for him, but he felt good for making you laugh like this. It’s been a while since he made someone laugh.

It’s a good sound.

☀︎

taglist: @prettyboyeddiemunson @thecreelhouse @tvserie-s-world @thesickestqrmydcll @crispystarfishhottub @sophal22 @definitionwanderlust @talkativecarnation @mysticalwoolenfroglegs @ariesandwolves @mortqlprojections @sattlersquarry

[starredblood]

NOWHERE GIRL

PART THIRTEEN

kang sae-byeok x fem!reader

synopsis: in a weird turn of events, sae-byeok tries to comfort those around her.

wc. 2.1k

warnings: angst followed by comfort

(nowhere girl masterlist)

Sae-byeok feels delirious. After everyone in the apartment fell asleep, only she remained awake trying to recollect the memories the events that occurred from only a couple hours ago. But they came in fragments. She mostly recalls seeing red when you and her went to Daejeon. She is aware how rigid her words can shift when she is angry or stressed and she regrets yelling at you. This is something she can’t find the pride to admit but, you’re the reason Ji-yeong was found. Not her.

She is losing her way of life. Her currently lifestyle is making her go soft and she’s still nowhere near her monetary goal to rescue her mom. And because Ji-yeong hasn’t been at work for three days now, it’s up to her to cough up a little extra money on the streets in order to pay rent next week. The money you gave her ran out, so instead of going to sleep she waits until everyone else is, throws on her jacket and heads out the door.

This time Sae-byeok made sure to pickpocket out of town.

By the time she arrives back to her apartment it was already the afternoon meaning she spent her entire morning pickpocketing. Her foot is aching and the only thing she had for lunch was a bulgogi onigiri she bought at the convenience store. She was ready to collapse in bed but she had responsibilities to take care of.

The lights in the apartment where still shut off and all the curtains are shut with little light escaping though them. You were long gone by the time she arrived back with her clothes and blanket neatly folded on the couch. You sent her a message when you departed at seven in the morning so she asked that you let her know when you made it home safe. But have yet to reply, it’s starting to concern her now.

Cheol was also sound asleep on his side of the bed, to her surprise. He also tends to wake up early like Sae-byeok, but perhaps he didn’t get a restful sleep last night because she wasn’t here.

She quietly counts the crumpled up balls of money and coins she was able to collect and stuffed majority of the money inside her drawer.

Her next stop is Ji-yeong’s room.

“How long have you been awake?” Sae-byeok asks after Ji-yeong unlocked her bedroom door and let her in. Her roommate jumps back into bed as she sits on the edge.

“I think like three hours ago but I lost track.” she mumbles, her tone more melancholic than usual.

She notices how puffy and lifeless her eyes are, clearly she was crying all night. Sae-byeok sighs, she wishes she could know the words to use to make Ji-yeong feel better. But maybe words aren’t enough in her case.

“So, what happened with your dad?” she asks cautiously and observes her facial expression to check if there’s a flicker of change in them.

Ji-yeong lets out an exasperated sigh and struggles to speak momentarily. “At first, he refused to see me so I had to wait for an hour until he finally changed his mind. Then he kept apologizing and apologizing and was like ‘I ask God for forgiveness everyday’ but when I told him it was all bullshit he went…I saw the dark look in his eyes again.” she looks at Sae-byeok in the eyes. “It was the same look he had when he killed mom. I had chills up my spine seeing him like that I seriously thought I was next.”

Sae-byeok felt a pang in her chest. A part of her feels like she pushed Ji-yeong into this mess.

“What’s with that look?” Ji-yeong asks. She doesn’t respond. “Don’t feel bad for telling me to visit him. I actually feel better—less guilty about his current state. I still need time I think.”

“Time to think?”

“Yeah, to process everything. But unfortunately, I only have today to do that because I picked up a twelve hour shift at work to make up for the days I missed.”

“Is that your way of telling me to get out of your room?”

Ji-yeong reaches to pat her back. “Look at you being emotionally intelligent!”

With a roll of her eyes she gets off the mattress and towards the door.

“Wait before you go,” Ji-yeong speaks up. “have you seen ‘her’ yet?” she wriggles her eyebrows when Sae-byeok turns around.

“What’s with that face and why did you say her like that?” Sae-byeok scoffs, feeling defensive suddenly.

“I take back my emotionally intelligent comment then.” she grumbles, shaking her head. “I saw her get ready this morning so I was wondering if you dropped her off or something.”

“No, I didn’t drop her off. I left before any of you woke up.” Sae-byeok says flatly and takes a hold of the door knob. She doesn’t like where this conversation is taking.

“She seemed off though.” she points out when Sae-byeok opens the door.

“Did she? Didn’t notice.”

When Sae-byeok is fully out the door it didn’t prevent her from hearing Ji-yeong say, “I can see right through you, Kang Sae-byeok!”

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

Later in the day, once Cheol woke up and had lunch, Sae-byeok casually mentioned the idea of seeing you. This elated the boy, who asked if it was possible to drop by your place as early as today. And because you haven’t been replying to Sae-byeok’s text, she agreed.

So, this lead the Kang siblings to stand outside your apartment door.

When you open it, Sae-byeok did notice you seem off. Your eyes were slightly swollen and tired almost like Ji-yeong’s crying ones. Maybe she came at a bad time—or bad day.

“Hi. Did something happen?” you softly, adverting your gaze down to Cheol.

“Cheol, wanted to see you.” she says plainly. “And you weren’t replying to my texts.”

“Hi, Noona.” Cheol greets you bashfully.

Sae-byeok can readily tell that you were forcing your face muscles to smile at Cheol. You bend down your knees to meet at his level.“Hey! I’m glad you wanted to stop by to see me I have some things for you.”

“Seriously?” he blinks.

You nod and tell them to enter the apartment before rushing up the stairs. Minutes later, you come back with a wooden crate full of supplies and plop it down in front of the boy.

Cheol sends you a skeptical glance. You encourage him to look inside the basket. There were full marker sets, graphite pencils of different grades, paint brushes with dried up paint, acrylic paint, and small empty canvases. Maybe there was more in the basket he missed.

“Is this all for me?” he mutters in disbelief.

“Of course.”

“Thank you, Noona.” he says, contemplating whether to reach over to embrace you but held back the urge in fear. You could sense his hesitation so you outstretch your arms and engulf him in a hug.

When you still embrace him, you look up at Sae-byeok, a flicker of sadness was in your eyes. She’s sure of it. She has a hard time grasping your kindness and selflessness during rough times like this. Your gesture made her chest get this achy feeling again.

After the hug, you encourage him to practice on your old sketchpad that had only two of your past drawings on them from high school.

Once he gets busy unloading everything you got him on the floor, you pull Sae-byeok aside. “I’m sorry I didn’t reply that is a bad move on my end knowing what we went through last night. But I also have something for you and Ji-yeong too by the way.”

“What?”

Before she could process it, you usher her up the stairs to your small bed space. Due to the space being so small she had to duck her head and sit on the mattress, watching you rummage through your piles of knickknacks you haven’t yet organized.

You plop down next to her. Right next to her. Sae-byeok wasn’t used to feeling someone’s leg brush up right against hers. You uncurl your fingers to reveal a black woven rope bracelet on your palm and reach your hand out to her.

Sae-byeok bites the inside of her cheek. She doesn’t know if she can handle so much of your tender hearted acts when she doesn’t think she deserves even an ounce of it. However, it would be cruel to turn down this gesture so she reaches to take it.

“And can you give this to, Ji-yeong?” you ask and pull out a thin necklace with a small firefly pendant. Sae-byeok sighs, but nods and takes that too.

“Thank you.” Sae-byeok says, lowly.

“I just got one favor to ask.” you say with rapid fire speed, fiddling with the hem of your shirt anxiously. “Can I paint you for my last project?”

Sae-byeok whips her head to look at you. She forgot the lack of personal space there was in between you two. “What?”

“Can…I paint you—“

“I heard you. But why me?” she asks, frowning.

“You have a unique face.” you answer simply but her face morphs into bewilderment.

“Excuse me?”

“Your eyes are sharp and cool but your face shape is soft and delicate. You have great features for a standout portrait.” you explain with ease. Sae-byeok’s lip part slightly. No one ever talks about her looks, especially not so carefully thought out. “It’s the type of unique face that’s almost—hm…mythical.”

She scoffs at the sheer disbelief she’s feeling. “You’re just bluffing.”

“There’s no reason for me to do that. I had other people as options but you stood out the most.” you say, genuinely. “So, do I have permission?”

Sae-byeok blinks at you. The idea of you having to stare at her face and think about her features for hours is an unfathomable thought. But you appear to be dead set on this decision, you didn’t laugh or mock her to convince her.

“Okay.”

She stares down at the bracelet and fiddles with it, her eyes soften up.

Sae-byeok has a hard time understanding that there is beauty in this world. Growing up in the North only taught her how to fear, and once her managed to flee South she had to became a shell of a person. Cheol, for a long time, was her only light in this new isolated world. She remembers briefly being like her little brother when she was his age, timid and quiet but showed her love. But as the people in her life either died or failed to escape the North, she forgot what it was like to feel and give love.

She never had time to figure out who she was as a person. To her, it was a waste of time. It was better to guard herself from the outside world that was so cruel and unusual.

“Ji-yeong said you looked off this morning.” Sae-byeok says out of the blue, feeling courageous to let her guard down ever so slightly.

“Oh.” is all you said to her surprise.

With another pang of courage hitting her system, she tilts her head to look at you.

You’ve proved Sae-byeok wrong time and time again. She used to be so sure you weren’t this selfless person you presented yourself to be when you came to live in their apartment back in March. But she’s ashamed to admit that she was wrong about your character. Very wrong.

“You did a lot for me last night. I won’t forget it.” she says after more and more momentary silence.

“It’s not—“

“Quit being so selfless for once.” she says in annoyance. She straightens up her posture and exhales trying to gather her words. “Can—Can you look at me?”

Hesitantly, you do as she says. Your face screams of worry and fear.

“What’s wrong?” Sae-byeok barely manages to say while looking into your eyes. “Tell me.”

She feels vulnerable under your tender gaze, noticing that you were studying her facial features carefully. It takes everything in her not to break away.

“I feel sad.” you say, shakily. “I still can’t believe my parents let me go so easily...” your chest visibly heaving. Before your lips start trembling you glance away.

Sae-byeok gulps. Before her brain could start figuring out what to do next she hears Cheol’s footsteps. You both instinctively scoot farther away from each other and compose yourselves.

“Is everything okay?” you ask the boy when he appears from the top of the stairs. Sae-byeok heard the glumness you tried terribly to mask.

“I don’t know how to work this, Noona.” he pouts, holding out a set of watercolor paint.

“Here, I will show you.” you say and hurry to get off of your bed to lead Cheol back downstairs. “This is watercolor paint. It’s dried up right now because you need to activate it with water.”

When Sae-byeok knows you’ve made your way to the kitchen she lets out a set of groans and palms her face. She doesn’t know why she is so bad at this. Comforting—a complete mystery to her.

🏷️: @monroesturnns @knfthxv @jumpedthenfell-13 @peelover25 @karli6 @kissedberries @bitchybananaflower @laurenkenss @saebyeokbliss @everly-summers-solace @we1rdth0ughts

[joelmillerisapunk]

MILLLLAAAAAA I have not known peace since reading this

First of all, the tension. The history. The forbidden desire just simmering under the surface, waiting to explode. Every single moment had me gripping my phone like it owed me money.

The fact that they had all this unresolved emotion and then bam—thrown into the most intimate scene imaginable??

This was SO intense, so raw, so emotional—and the way it all came back to them in the end??? Like, she wrote the script for him. She was always going to find her way back to him.

I am never recovering from this. EVER I am crying in the club, hiding in the bathroom, sobbing into my pillow. okay favorite parts timeeeee - and this is my live reaction so excuse every emotional rollercoaster I hit here....

-> WAHHHHHH FJSDKJSDKLJF already killing me goddamnit He closed it and took a moment before rereading the first page, with the name left blank. It could only be you. That was the only explanation for getting a script without the name of the author on it. And there was no way the scene he had just read, so familiar, so intimate, could be coincidental. Or could be written by anyone else. He grabbed his phone and sent a message to his agent, unable to contain his annoyance.that’s fucked up, Will*Will calling* -> OKAYY I SEE HOW IT IS YOU WANT ME TO CRY ALREADY HUH? “It’s… damn, Will, it’s our story, ok? Or a part of it, I don't know. Anyway I can’t play this. Can’t play me.”

-> WHAAAA I CANT DO THIS I CANT BUT I WILL IM SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP He didn’t know how Joel used to hold you firmly against the mattress, hands on your hips, lapping at your cunt to make you come again. Because he always wanted more, always wanted to give you more. He didn’t know that pushing his cock in you was the sweetest, most intense sensation he’d ever felt. Even now, years later, he never felt something like that again. Will didn't know any of that, had no idea how intense it had been. Because the only thing Joel told him was “you don’t bring her up. Ever.” -> she is so relatable omfg I would be doing the same You knew what he looked like, you watched all his movies. In need of his voice, his smile, his gestures, his laugh. In need of him. But seeing him for real- not through a screen but in the same room, not some character but Joel, the man you loved more than anyone else, the man you would still call “the love of your life” in your thoughts -, was breathtaking, almost surreal.  -> SOBBING EXCUSE ME SIR? WTF YOU DOING SHAKING HER OFF LIKE THAT NO SIR NO SIR So you approached him, without overthinking it, but as soon as he saw you he gave you a subtle but firm shake of his head. The message was crystal clear - he didn’t want to talk to you, didn’t even want you around. It stopped your hesitant steps in their tracks, and the shy smile you had the courage to build instantly disappeared, and your gaze fell to the floor. Trying to control your breathing, to fight back the tears you felt welling up.

-> my good goddddd im dying over here i am not okay sos help me He shook his head to think about something else and to resist the urge to take the script out of the drawer. Instead, he took a sleeping pill and went to bed.

->idk Milla, i think you write the most beautiful things and you really wanna make my heart fall out of my ribcage. The writing was pure and vivid and as he was reading your point of view he felt like his ribcage was suddenly too small to contain his heartbeats.

-> ooooof THIS IS BUILDING UP OMG OMG OMG SMDFKSDA “Who do you have in mind for the female lead?” he asked finally. “Well… me,” you answered, without lowering your gaze that time.

-> stab me it might hurt less than this In tears in your car, your boxes in the back, eyes fixed on the rearview mirror where Joel’s silhouette was getting smaller and smaller. Until you could no longer discern his clenched fists, his stone face. Until he was only a small dot, until he wasn't in your life anymore.

THE ENTIRE INTIMATE SCENE HOLY SMOKES IM DIZZYYYY

-> I have no thoughts just thots my brain empty but this is delicious “I can feel you clench on my fingers, you’re gonna be a good girl and come again for me?” he asked, before swirling his tongue over your clit again. “Thought about it so often,”

AND THE END AHHH IM SOBBING

Close-up

8k7 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 | masterlist Summary: Joel receives a script that takes him back to the memories of your love story. He realizes that out of protective instinct after the break up, he has not been honest neither with his own feelings nor with you Warnings: 18+ mdni. ex lovers reunited, angst, mostly Joel pov, Joel can act cold out of defence mechanism, he has trouble accepting his own feelings, pining, slow burn, pet names (sweetheart, baby), semi public sex, just the tip, soft!joel, oral (f), piv, creampie. Pic for mood only, reader has no specific physical descriptions. 

a/n:  this is written for @jolapeno 's dear-uary challenge (prompt here) thank you for this challenge Jo, and it was such a cool prompt 😍😍😍 Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing and for reading this one soooo many times 🥹😘💕 @/saradika-graphics for the dividers 🙏

I sent you a script, tell me what you think tell me more just read it, trust me

The informal messages between Joel and his agent, Will, were usual. They had known each other for a long time, they were friends, and Will had always found him perfect roles. 

So as always, Joel trusted him- even though the first page of the script, delivered to him by a courier, was not completely filled, making him wonder why. 

In the evening he put his cup on the coffee table, and lay down on the sofa, a soft light lamp behind his head. With his back leaning against the cushions, shirt, jeans, bare feet. Always the same ritual, always the same setup, when he was about to read a new script.

He started reading it, taking a sip of coffee from time to time, until his heart leapt in his chest as he got to a particular scene. 

He closed it and took a moment before rereading the first page, with the name left blank. 

It could only be you. 

That was the only explanation for getting a script without the name of the author on it. And there was no way the scene he had just read, so familiar, so intimate, could be coincidental. Or could be written by anyone else. He grabbed his phone and sent a message to his agent, unable to contain his annoyance.

that’s fucked up, Will

*Will calling*

“Yeah,” he grumbled as he picked up, without even trying to hide his feelings, then he got up to pace the room.

“Look, I know what you’re thinking, Joel. But she’s a great writer and actress, you know it. We’ve been looking for a good drama movie for a long time. This one’s perfect.”

“It’s… damn, Will, it’s our story, ok? Or a part of it, I don't know. Anyway I can’t play this. Can’t play me.”

“Joel, listen to me and think about it. No one would know. And it can be therapeutic.”

“Thera… jesus, you gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Joel sighed as he hung up and threw his phone on the couch. 

Why the fuck would Will do something so stupid and inconsiderate, giving him a script from you? 

At the beginning of his career, his agent sent him one project for a movie in which you were expected to play too. Joel confessed that you two had been together, and added “you don’t bring her up. Ever,” to end the conversation. So Will never did. 

Until today.

He sat back down on the sofa, resting his forehead on his fist, resisting the urge to throw the cup of coffee across the room. He was surprised by his own reaction, his nervousness. His anger. Barely able to control his emotions, he felt so weak, like his heart was about to tear in two again, swallowing him whole. He was affected, years later, as if it happened yesterday.

So, sure, a long time ago he asked Will not to talk about you anymore. But they might have been  friends, his agent might have known about you, but he didn’t know the details. Didn’t know how profoundly the break up had hurt Joel, how much you had gotten under his skin, back then.

And in Will's defense, it wasn't like you never saw each other again, at parties or ceremonies, under Will’s gaze who thought that it wasn't that bad, after all. It was years after your separation, now having the job that both of you dreamed about, talked about, sweaty young adults in a messy bed where he had just made you come.

Will wasn't aware that it was actually that bad. 

Because he didn’t know the way Joel looked at you, when you were together. He didn't know how sweet and caring Joel was with you. He didn’t know how much he loved wrapping his arms around you, and having you curl up against him. 

He didn’t know how Joel used to hold you firmly against the mattress, hands on your hips, lapping at your cunt to make you come again. Because he always wanted more, always wanted to give you more.

He didn’t know that pushing his cock in you was the sweetest, most intense sensation he’d ever felt. Even now, years later, he never felt something like that again.

Will didn't know any of that, had no idea how intense it had been. Because the only thing Joel told him was “you don’t bring her up. Ever.”

The first time you saw each other again, was in a place full of actors, agents, writers and directors.

You couldn't believe he was here, a few steps away from you. Of course, you knew you'd cross paths one day, but suddenly he was closer to you than he had been in years and you felt your heart racing. He was even more handsome than he was back then, if it was even possible. You knew what he looked like, you watched all his movies. In need of his voice, his smile, his gestures, his laugh. In need of him. 

But seeing him for real- not through a screen but in the same room, not some character but Joel, the man you loved more than anyone else, the man you would still call “the love of your life” in your thoughts -, was breathtaking, almost surreal. 

So you approached him, without overthinking it, but as soon as he saw you he gave you a subtle but firm shake of his head. The message was crystal clear - he didn’t want to talk to you, didn’t even want you around. 

It stopped your hesitant steps in their tracks, and the shy smile you had the courage to build instantly disappeared, and your gaze fell to the floor. Trying to control your breathing, to fight back the tears you felt welling up. 

If you had looked up right away, you would have seen guilt sweep through his eyes. But when you finally raised your head, seconds later, he was on the other side of the room. The only thing you could see was his back, which he undoubtedly presented to you deliberately, as if his glare hadn’t been enough to make a point.

All evening, you struggled to keep conversations going, to concentrate, to think of anything other than his dark stare, furrowed brows, and the way he shook his head at you without any hesitation. For years, you had been wondering what he had thought of you, after those years. You just got the most brutal answer to that question. 

The second time, a journalist had done some research and discovered that you attended the same university, graduated the same year. He took the opportunity to bring the subject as Joel was walking by. He probably hadn't seen you amongst all those people, because you were sure he would have gone the other way, otherwise. You didn’t have much choice than to kiss, feigning a friendly closeness that had never existed between you. You had been lovers, then strangers. No in-between. 

His scent, so familiar, invaded your nostrils. He always wore the same perfume, the one you had given him for a birthday. It surprised you but you didn't have much time to think about it, as he ended the hug quickly.

Joel's eyes were shifty when you looked at him, a fake smile plastered on his lips. Which could probably seem real for people who didn't know him, but not for you. Not even years later. You answered the journalist's questions as best as you could, until Joel leaned towards to give you a hug that was as neutral as his eyes on you, cutting off the questions. Then he walked away, leaving you facing the journalist who was delighted with the exclusive material and oblivious to the unspoken scene that had happened in front of him.

Joel thought back to those two evenings, after he’d hung up on Will and before he’d put the script away in a drawer. He needed to regain control of his emotions, and to do that he couldn't continue reading your words, at least for now.

He went to the kitchen for a fresh cup of coffee, and despite him trying, his mind wandered to lazy mornings where he would get up to make two coffees and then come back to the bedroom. He’d put them on the nightstand, before cuddling up to your warm body under the sheets, hearing you moan gently. Sometimes you would fall asleep in one of his shirts, and he loved smelling his scent on you, as if you were marked by him, somehow. It always made him feral, possessive. He didn’t know he had that side in him, until you.

You'd always grab his hand to kiss the tip of his fingers, before sliding them along your folds, feeling his cock harden against your ass and your pussy starting to drool. He would make you come with his digits, his lips against your ear, caged in his arms, then he'd slide his cock between your thighs and your soaked folds, just in time for your last spasms to squeeze his tip. Sometimes he would keep fucking you like that, lying behind you, and sometimes he would roll you on your back, taking his place between your thighs. Until he’d come, grunting, growling, his hair disheveled, and you often fall back asleep, his cock softening inside you, the cups of coffee cold on the nightstand.

He shook his head to think about something else and to resist the urge to take the script out of the drawer. Instead, he took a sleeping pill and went to bed.

The next morning he woke up groggy. He put on a t-shirt and sweatpants, poured himself a cup of coffee, and put aside his good resolutions. He didn’t need the script to think about you, anyway. Time never healed his wounds, he never forgot you or the pain he had felt when you’d left. His thoughts were always hurtful, possessive and raw.

Even years after the break up he couldn’t help but think about you when his wrist fucked his shaft. Even sometimes when he was in a relationship. He hated himself for that but couldn’t help it. He missed your cunt, your hands, everything. But he couldn’t accept the idea that he was simply missing you. 

He always thought that your bodies were made for each other, and you always breathed the same words. He knew you meant it, his cock buried in you, his eyes fixed on yours rolling to the back of your head and his ears filled with your moans, barely able to tell his name.  

Until it was over. 

He knew it could happen, you always told him that you'd have to leave for California one day in hope to live your dream, that you couldn’t do it in Texas. But he brushed it off, not wanting to believe it, not wanting to think about it. He hid it in a corner of his mind, until he had no other choice but to face reality. Until it hit him. That day, he realized that he wouldn’t get to wrap his arms around you for the rest of his life.

He lay down on the couch and started to read. And the more he read the script, the more he realized that you wrote only the moments that had really happened. 

The story, background, was slightly different, probably so that no one could ever make a connection to the two of you. But the moments were real, and it made him dizzy.

You wrote that dance in your small apartment, first for the both of you, that you rented after graduation. You worked as a waitress and Joel was a barista, and you two went to as many castings in Austin as you could, dreaming every day about being actors.

That night you put on some music and danced. He kissed your hand and looked at you. He felt warm. He loved you so much that his heart was aching. He made you spin and you laughed, and it was like a spring breeze in the apartment, filling his lungs with fresh air. When you stopped twirling you brushed his hair and then kissed him. 

The writing was pure and vivid and as he was reading your point of view he felt like his ribcage was suddenly too small to contain his heartbeats.

Over the next two days, he took the script out of the drawer regularly. Slowly touching the paper that already bore the marks of repeated handling, him  lying on his couch, taking his time before opening it. 

He read it all, and the sweetness, the sensitivity with which you described your moments moved him profoundly. The person he had loved, cherished, cradled in his arms, wrote that. 

All the intimacy, the love and care you both felt for each other were there. For several years he made everything to forget the good moments, to focus only on the ending to feed his bitterness, but the fact was that there had been so many beautiful moments. And he could read them, feel them again. Couldn’t deny them anymore.

Your words were so familiar, so true to your love story, that his anger slowly gave some place to something else: nostalgia. Finally allowing himself to miss you and what you two had. He was still wondering why you had written the script and sent it to him, but now he was ready to learn the answer. And he wanted to look you in the eye when he’d ask you this question. But he wasn't sure how he’d behave, when you met. Didn't know if bitterness or nostalgia would fill his heart.

So after two days of silence, Joel picked up his phone and sent Will a message.

Ok, set up a meeting

Because of your busy schedules you could meet only in two weeks. The delay was driving him crazy. 

He made a copy of the script, his copy, which he filled with annotations, dates. Underlining moments or words erased from his mind, out of grief, anger or self-protection.

He got hard several times, while reading some scenes. And sometimes anger would come back to creep into his thoughts, whispering to him that you never should have sent it to him, when your separation had been so painful for him. 

And Will was not the only one Joel said “you don’t…. ever.”

To you, it’d been “If you leave… you don't call me. Ever.”

That morning, as he got used to doing several times a day, he grabbed his copy of the script. He had handled it so much that the sheets were already damaged, some pages peppered with annotations. 

As he was reading, he remembered how you had loved to run your fingers over his jeans when you were watching a movie on your little couch. Playing with him, your hand going higher and higher, just to hear his breathing slow down, just to hear him murmur a needy and low “sweetheart, what are you doing?”, making you smile widely. Knowing that he would manhandle you two seconds later to be under him, pulling your panties to the side and pushing his thick length into you. He remembered the feeling of your breasts against his chest, how you whimpered in his neck while he was fucking you hard and deep. 

He was nervous the morning of the meeting. He took a shower, hoping to get rid of the fatigue and headache from the lack of sleep the night before. He put on a shirt and jeans and grabbed his car keys, put on some music when he started to drive, trying to change his mind, but it didn’t work, he was still anxious. He parked near the building. Once inside he found the meeting room and knocked on the door. He heard you say “come in” and took a deep breath before twisting the handle.

You were alone, sitting in a chair, and he quickly pushed aside the thought of how pretty you were. Joel immediately noticed your hands, pressed together nervously, before you stood up to greet him. He stopped when you walked towards him and your smile faded like that time.

“Wait,” he said, his hand raised in front of him, as he was trying to control his emotions. “I just… Why did you send it to me?” he added without any preamble, his tone harsher than he intended. 

“Oh… ok. Straight to the point, huh?” you said, sitting back down, and removing an imaginary crease on your sleeve, eyes lowered to the desk.

“I never…” you started to say, before stopping and taking a breath. “I think I needed to write our story down.” 

Joel’s sigh stopped you. You tried to keep a low and calm tone, not to show your anxiety. You knew that facing him wouldn't be easy. He had given you a glimpse of his coldness after the situation with that journalist.

“Joel, please, listen to me.” 

You looked at him, and yet you had no idea how his name, escaping your lips, tore his heart apart. He never thought he’d hear it again, and the familiar intonation made him shiver.

“I honestly think it would make a great movie,” you said. “And you must think so too, since you’re here.”

“I don’t know why I’m here, honestly. Except that I want to know why.”

“Would you have preferred to discover it once the movie was out, your role played by someone else?”

His gaze on you, dark and possessive, made you freeze.

“No, I really wouldn’t have appreciated our story, my life, played by someone else, Jesus,” he growled.

He put his hands on his hips, a stance you’d seen him do dozens of times before, searching for words, and then he sat in a chair, pinching the place just above his nose with two fingers. Trying to stop the headache that was threatening to come again. It had started off badly, and he knew it was his fault. He was too stubborn, too cold.

“Who do you have in mind for the female lead?” he asked finally.

“Well… me,” you answered, without lowering your gaze that time.

“You?” 

A part of him, that he thought was gone the day you had left, woke up with a groan. He couldn't imagine the movie being made, you playing... well, you, and him being played by another man. It was unthinkable and made his jealousy and possessiveness stir painfully in his chest.

Unlike you, he hadn't watched your movies. He tried though, when he saw your face on a movie poster for the first time. He went to the cinema, but he walked out of the theater the moment that actor leaned toward you to kiss you. He couldn't stand to see someone kiss you, when he couldn't do it anymore.

“I’m the best person to play this character, aren’t I?” you said softly, interrupting his thoughts. “Just like you’re the best one to play the male lead. Look, I know you’ve been rumored for a role like this for years. I know you’re not opposed to it. So why not?”

“Because it’s not about playing a role here,” he sighed. “It’s playing in front of a camera, things we said, did, years ago. Intimate things that belong to us.”

“I changed some things, no one has to know it’s autobiographical,” you started to say, before he quickly cut you off. 

“I know it is. And so do you.” He walked over to the window to stare at the buildings in front of him. “When you leave someone, you don’t do that. It’s unhealthy,” he said, almost softly. Resigned. He turned to you before adding, “Why stir up something that died years ago?”

He didn't expect to face the sadness that clouded your face, and once again guilt seized him. You were sad, upset, and despite the bitterness he’d been feeling for years, he didn’t want to hurt you.

“Joel… I didn’t leave because I didn’t love you anymore,” you answered, standing up and walking towards him. You stopped a few steps away to respect his boundaries, before you'd see his body stiff. “I left because I had to follow my dream, and it wasn’t working in Texas. And you wanted to stay in Austin, to take care of Tommy. We ended it because a long-distance relationship would have been too painful, because I didn’t want us to be unhappy, barely seeing each other, not being able to feel each other often enough. So I left. And I told you all that. You knew it, you knew why.”

You took a breath, after formulating what was oppressing your heart, waiting for him to answer.

“Playing with feelings is dangerous,” he said in a low voice.

“This isn’t a game, Joel. I'm not playing. I’m sure it would make a great movie. And maybe we need to express all that, even years later.”

“Do you remember what I told you that day? The last day?”

“Of course, I do. You told me not to call you. You told me that if we had to meet again… then it would happen. Well, it's happening, Joel.”

He looked at you, confused, and headed towards the door, brushing past you lightly as he passed. 

Just before leaving, without looking at you, he said in a low voice, “my agent will give you my answer in a few days.” 

Once the door closed behind Joel, you remembered the day you left. 

In tears in your car, your boxes in the back, eyes fixed on the rearview mirror where Joel’s silhouette was getting smaller and smaller. Until you could no longer discern his clenched fists, his stone face. Until he was only a small dot, until he wasn't in your life anymore.

At that moment you were wondering if you had made a mistake. You kept wondering for years. To be honest, you still weren’t sure you made the right choice that day. You followed your dream and succeeded, but it cost you the love of your life.

You didn't know what to think about the meeting. It could have been worse, he could have left after two minutes of being there, you knew it. You could have said more, too, but you didn't want Joel to withdraw more into himself. And for sure, you couldn't have told him that you always thought of him when you were in someone’s else’s arms. That you tried not to let jealousy invade you when you thought of his personal life, knowing that you had no right to be. You gave up on that when you had left.

You knew what he thought, how he reacted. Now he needed time to process everything, and you just had to wait for his agent to contact you. You couldn't do more.

Joel got to his car in a blur. He realized where he was only sitting behind the wheel, too many emotions swirling in his head. Years without seeing you and it had gone by at the speed of light. He blamed himself for being cold, blamed himself for not being cold enough, and he was even more lost than before he saw you. He started to drive, the feeling of having mishandled things weighing more and more on his shoulders.

He took another shower when he got home, as if it could wash off his remorse and regrets, the words exchanged playing over and over in his mind.

“Joel… I didn’t leave because I didn’t love you anymore.”

“I had to follow my dream. You wanted to stay in Austin. To take care of Tommy.”

“You knew it, you knew why.”

Did he really start to believe that the events had happened differently, after you left? Had he really done it, to the point of omitting certain things, because he needed someone to blame, to keep moving forward? 

Had he really been that guy? Blaming you when there was no one to blame, just life and the choices that go with it, that we all have to do?

Had he really denied for years that you had left with a broken heart, too? That he had told you to never call him, after those wonderful years together? He felt like he was waking up with a monstrous hangover, and guilt gripped him. Truth is he let you down, and reality was hitting him hard.

Because you were right, you didn’t leave just like that. He didn’t want to acknowledge it for years, kept sweeping it under the rug, but deep down he didn’t forget it. 

And you were right, he hadn’t been able to prioritize your relationship. Couldn’t prioritize himself either. He had always been protective of his brother, but it reached another level when he came back to Texas after being dismissed. Tommy wasn't the same, and Joel knew that he would have constantly wondered if his brother was okay if he had left for California with you. Worried that he could be in jail after a fight, with no one to bail him out. Or that he could be drunk in an alley, alone, spending the night there. Or worse.

“I can’t leave Tommy here alone, with all his drinking and partying,” he told you, expression determined.

“But you need to think about your future, our future too, Joel,” you replied desperately.

Joel had probably hoped that you wouldn’t have left, that you’d have chosen him, until the end. And you probably hoped the same thing, too. 

Right person, wrong time. Fucking sad, but so banal.

So to forget that he was as responsible for the breakup as much as you were, he let his pain turn into anger, and he never let nostalgia set in, or his feelings show up. 

And everything blew up when you sent him that script and he started reading it. It was impossible to continue to deny the obvious, to keep thinking that his feelings were stronger than yours and that’s why you had left. It was impossible to forget that he had told you, “If you leave… you don't call me. Ever.” That he was the one who had cut everything off, once and for all. To protect himself, of course. But still.

So once you were gone, he did what he had to do, he took care of Tommy. Except that he started going to bars with him, at night. Drinking less than him, but still way too much. He took sleeping pills when he was obsessed with your absence, tired of squeezing your pillow way too tight in his fist, his jaw clenched with anger. He moved to a new neighborhood because he couldn't stand living in that apartment anymore where everything reminded him of you. 

When they were children and then teenagers, Joel and Tommy’s father taught them to work with their hands, and it helped them to find jobs on construction sites. And that he finally pulled himself together and helped Tommy the way he had to. It took him months, but he did it, and his parents would be proud of him, of them, if they saw their sons.

He worked hard, kept doing castings when his work allowed it, and eventually it paid off, even if it took time.

He thought about it all, and realized he needed to see you again before deciding on the movie. Needed to behave normally, to let go of his mask. So he asked his agent your number, then texted you:

it’s Joel. Are you still in LA?  I have some questions about the script can we meet again?  I am. When do you wanna meet? tomorrow night, my place? I’ll cook Sure!

He took a deep breath as he sent you his address. He let his emotions take over on purpose, to dispel the bitter taste in his mouth since you saw each other. Now he had to trust them.

The next day he started to cook during the afternoon, the dish that he hoped was still one of your favorite. He knowingly chose to invite you over to his place, to keep his mind occupied at least while he was busy in the kitchen. 

Once the dish was in the oven, he did a running session on his treadmill and showered. 

Anything to keep his mind busy.

You arrived right on time, a bottle of wine in hand.

“You still like the white?” you asked.

He did. Some things never changed.

As you approached the kitchen it smelled so good that you stopped there.

“Still one of your favorite meals?” he asked.

It was. 

You tried not to show that you were moved. Acts of service had always been his way of showing that he cared, and you weren’t expecting that when you showed up.

You sat down on a high stool in the kitchen and he opened the bottle of wine. You had a few sips, silently. Neither of you really knew what to say, at first. Then everything set into place, naturally, instinctively. A little shyly at first, bringing up things from your respective pasts, or present. You asked him how Tommy was doing, and he told you he was fine, that he was engaged to a woman named Maria and that they were going to be parents soon. You were happy for Tommy, sincerely. You had always liked him.

Joel was trying to act normally, to not pay too much attention to the ease with which you were chatting. How easily he opened up to you, telling you about his years in Austin, then his first ones in LA. His first roles, his doubts.

He was glancing at your hands when you weren’t looking at him. At your hair. 

He loved to see your eyes shine when you were talking about something that was important to you.

But above all, he loved to see them sparkle the first time he made you smile, that evening. It hit him, how much he missed it. Making you smile. 

His emotions were so familiar that his heart was beating a little too fast, like a horse freed from its reins.

And suddenly he wondered how he had been able to spend so many years without you by his side, when you had always been his sunshine, liberating his grumpy, reserved nature. 

A part of his brain told him that he was smiling a little too much, but he felt more alive during those moments with you than he hadn’t been in so long. 

Whether in a relationship or not.

And then he felt the atmosphere change, felt that you got nervous, an impression confirmed when you began to scratch your thumb. A habit that dated back years ago, and he'd always take you in his arms, kiss your thumb and tell you that he was there and that everything would be okay. Today, for the first time he couldn’t do all that.

“Are you ok?” he nevertheless allowed himself to ask.

“Yeah, it’s just… listen, I know you wanted to ask me about the script, but ehm... there’s something you need to know.” You took a deep breath before adding “there won’t be any movie if you don’t want to do it. If you’re not comfortable with it. I’m not saying this to put pressure on you, it's just… I just want you to know that your choice is completely free. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do it, for whatever bad reason.”

“I appreciate that you’re telling me this, thank you,” he said, in a tone you couldn’t quite define, half defeated, half tender. “Listen, I wanted to apologize.”

“For what, Joel?” you asked questioningly.

“Yesterday. I didn’t really know how to handle all of it. Honestly, I’ve been overwhelmed by a lot of emotions since I read the script. Including anger.” He didn't expect to tell you that, but the need was too much to bear. He needed to make things right.

“I know. I expected it to be complicated, after our two previous meetings,” you said, without animosity or bitterness. Just being factual.

He raised his eyebrows, as if to apologize, before continuing. “I wanted to apologize for that too. My attitude.”

“That’s your way of handling things, it always has been, I should have known. But I appreciate it too, thanks Joel.”

He nodded, then added “do you think we’ll be able to do it?”

“To do what?”

“Work together. To be coworkers on a movie?”

He saw your eyebrows furrow slightly, as you took the time to think before answering.

“Well… the evening’s going pretty well, right? You haven't shook your head at me yet, to show me the door.”

“Ouch!” he replied exaggeratedly.

“Too soon?” you asked, lips curled into a smile.

“A little,” he laughed.

He enjoyed it, that little moment. You’d had so many of them before. 

“Aren’t you afraid of what might happen?” he wanted to ask. 

“Aren’t you afraid of reliving things, that I’ll fall madly in love with you again and that the scenes we’ll shoot, my acting, will just express the reality of my feelings?” 

But he couldn’t ask you that.

He wanted to ask you if you had sent him the script because you still had feelings for him, but he couldn’t say that either.

“It’ll be a low budget movie. I mean, if we do it,” you said. There’ll be some outdoor scenes but not that many. Not many other actors either. It won’t be a long shoot.”

He nodded and said, “can I give you my answer in a couple of days?”

“Of course,” you smiled. “Thanks for the meal, it was delicious,” you said as you stood up. “You can text me if you have any questions.”

He thanked you and you complimented him on his house as you put your coat back on. His taste hadn’t changed. The rooms were simply decorated. As you walked toward the front door you glanced inside one of the rooms, and saw a table with a wooden sculpture on it.

“Oh my god, Joel? You still do the carving?”

“Oh… well… yeah. I never stopped.”

“Can I?” you asked.

“Sure,” he opened the door and you slipped through the gap, brushing past him lightly as you passed and you had goosebumps at the familiar scent. Still the perfume you had gifted him once. Reassuring. After all these years, instantly, it was there. Enveloping you. 

You approached the table and leaned over a piece he was working on, admiring the figurine that was being carved. A rodeo cowboy on a bucking horse.

“Wow, Joel… you were already very good at this back then, but now it’s incredible. The level of detail is mind-blowing.”

You looked at the shelves, covered with other sculptures. You approached them: bears, deer, wolves, rabbits.

“This is really amazing, you’re so talented. And… Do you still play guitar?”

“Sure,” he answered, nodding at a guitar case. “I usually play in the dining room. My guitars are over there. This one needed a little TLC. I just got it back. It’s… well it’s the one you gave me.”

You looked at him, unable to hide the surprise on your face.

“You kept it?” you asked, trying to hold back your emotions.

“ ‘ course I did.”

You nodded, your throat tight.

“I should go, it’s getting late,” you said. “Tell me about the movie, ok?” You looked at him hesitantly, but when he leaned towards you and wrapped his arms around your torso, your eyes closed at the feeling, so familiar, before you pulled away, told him good night and left.

Driving your car, you replayed the images of the evening in your mind. Of course, you had felt his gaze on you several times during the evening. And sometimes you could see Joel again. Your Joel.

Did he think about you as much as you thought about him? Did he suspect that you had sent him this script in the hope of getting back in touch with him? Did he know how much you missed him, all those years?

You had wondered so many times if he had been thinking about you. You thought about the hug, as comforting as before. You missed him so much.

Two days later, he texted you

“I’m in”

He kept looking at his phone after sending the message. The read indicator appeared quickly, then the writing bubble.

“Great, I'm so glad! I’m sure it’s gonna be amazing!!”

He hoped it would be. Hoped it wasn’t a mistake. 

He had to leave LA for several weeks for a shooting, and the organization of the film was put in place.

You sent each other a few messages in the next few days. Then the messages became more and more regular, while remaining purely friendly.

Several months later, the day before the shooting started, he knocked on your trailer to say hello.

You had rehearsed some scenes with the crew, and everything was ready.

The less emotional scenes were shot in the first few days. He didn’t ask for it, but he was glad. Every night he came back to his trailer, played the guitar, and thought about you. 

Seeing you every day was a very strange thing that he had trouble to define. He was happy to see you every day, to see the person you had become. And sad that you were no longer his. Filming these moments with you was like constantly reopening a wound that had never really healed.

That night, he took out the script, and reread the scene planned the next day.

EXT. THEIR APARTMENT -- EVENING He parks downstairs at their apartment, it’s dark. He knows she’s back from a week at her parents’. He’s eager to get home and see her again, he’s missed her. He quickly climbs the outside stairs and unlocks the door. INT. THEIR APARTMENT -- EVENING He puts his keys on the hall cabinet, takes off his jacket and hangs it on the coat rack. We follow him as he walks in the apartment, until he sees her in the doorway of the dining room. He smiles, we see love in their eyes as look at other. HER Hey baby He goes to her, they kiss, he takes her in his arms. She closes her eyes. HIM I missed you, baby. He brushes her cheek with his thumb. HER I missed you too. She takes his hand and leads him to their bedroom.

He stopped reading there, before the next scene, that was the most intimate, the one that made him anxious just to think about.

“I missed you, baby,” he said the line. He brushed your cheek with his thumb, like he had done so many times before. His eyes were fixed in yours. He wondered if he was imagining what he was reading in them.

“I missed you too.”

You took his hand and you headed out of the frame.

“Cut, it was perfect, guys! Go get ready for the next scene.”

He picked up his water bottle and took a sip. He felt dizzy.

You were both wearing underwear and bathrobes. Waiting to shoot the scene.

“Ok guys, you’re ready? Great, let’s go.”

The scene was a close-up of both of your faces during a sex scene, at night. You lay down on the bed first, after taking off your robe. He took off his too and lay down between your thighs.

“Is this ok?” he asked.

“Yeah, it’s ok,” you smiled.

“Action!”

You started to kiss, tongues quickly brushing against each other. His hands cupped your cheeks as he rolled his hips towards you slowly, careful that your crotches wouldn’t touch. 

It was overwhelming to feel you against him, your breasts against his chest, with only your bra between the two of you. It was a whirling moment, to kiss you in such an intimate scene, playing something that you had lived for real before. He groaned and slid his hand to the back of your neck to hold you as close as possible against him.

He felt you shift slightly, turning your hips to face his. He wanted to ask you what you were doing but he couldn’t. He was half hard from the moment he laid against you but now his cock was hard as steel. You pushed your pelvis forward and the tip of his cock nestled at your entrance, pointing against his boxers.

He could feel your wet panties through the fabrics.

“Don’t stop, baby,” you recited your line, and he growled.

He couldn’t believe you would act like that while shooting a scene, couldn't believe you were using him.

He pulled away to look at you and you murmured an unscripted “please.” Eyebrows furrowed, he nodded slightly. His fat head found its way, and his tip pushed your panties in.

It was hot, filthy, forbidden. So unprofessional, but he couldn’t stop. He recognized your moans, and the small team around you probably thought it was perfectly faked, when it was music in his ears. The music he thought he would never hear again. 

Your hands tightened on his biceps as you came. So quickly. He felt your walls squeezing his tip and he almost forgot to move, forgot the script, forgot you were shooting a scene. He pulled out, afraid he would come too, and faked his orgasm, neck tense and veins bulging, your hands caressing his hair at the back of his neck.

You said the next line “I love you, baby. I missed you so much.”

“I love you too,” was his.

“Cut!! That was amazing, great job!!”

There was a pounding on your trailer door as you got out of the shower. You quickly threw on a bathrobe and went to open it.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” he growled.

“Keep your voice low Joel, damn… Come in.”

You closed the door behind him, searching for the right words, pressing your hands together. 

“I, huh…” you stammered.

“No! No, talk to me. Tell me. You can’t… you can’t do that and stay silent.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” he chuckled.

“Having you so close to me, against me… I couldn’t help myself. I’m sorry. It was overwhelming.”

“Everyone could have seen, what were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking, that’s the point, Joel! And they didn’t see, anyway.”

“Jesus christ you can't do that. You can’t just use me like that.”

“I know, Joel. I know, I’m sorry. It’s just…”

“What?”

You sighed, and that time he didn't try to rush you. You felt him soften, giving you time to find your words.

“I miss you, Joel.”

“No, don't…  Please, don’t say that.”

“I missed you the second I left and it never stopped.”

Hearing the tone of your voice and reading your eyes, this time he had no doubt that you really meant it. And he felt all the tensions in his body relax, as if he were freed from everything that had been oppressing him for years. You approached him slowly, eyes raised to his, and you slid your hand into his, and his large palm gently closed over it. You caressed his cheek with the other, and for a moment he shut his eyes, pressing his face against your hand.

“I miss you,” you said again and he rested his forehead against yours. He gently rubbed his nose against yours, before kissing your lips softly. He heard your breathing hitch for a moment, then you moaned slightly as you pulled away, just to look at him, Joel, not the actor, for the first time in years. He pulled you closer to him and brushed his tongue over your lips, as if asking for permission to push inside. Greedily, you slid yours to his, licking his tongue and lips, until he crashed his mouth against yours. His hands rested on your waist while yours moved up his back, pressing your bodies together. You whined when you felt his hard cock pressed to you.

You pulled away from him again, just to look at his face, and he wanted to pinch himself, just to be sure you were not some dream that would leave him disillusioned and alone when he woke up.

You took his hand and led him to your room.

“Undress me,” you said.

He pulled on the knot of your bathrobe slowly, making the two sides of the garment part, revealing the curve of your breasts that he caressed with his fingertips.

Your chest rose quickly as your eyes were plunged into each other, until he lowered them to your pussy. His heart was beating so fast that for a moment he was afraid it would explode.

He raised his gaze to yours, silently asking if you were okay.

“Yes,” you said. As if you knew he would want to hear it, that a nod wouldn't be enough.

He slipped his hands under the fabric of the robe and slid it down your shoulders. It fell to the floor, leaving you naked. So vulnerable, and yet you were the strongest woman he ever knew, following your dream by leaving for a city where you didn't know anyone. And made your dream come true.

But now you were here, in front of him. So pretty, so sure of yourself, of your desires.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said in a low voice.

He pulled you back, guiding you with his hands on your hips as he kissed you, until the back of your knees touched the bed.

“Lie down, sweetheart,” he said. The nickname was so familiar in his mouth, so normal. You did as he asked, moving back until your head rested on the pillow as he watched you, still standing at the end of the bed. Then he took off his t-shirt, unbuttoned his jeans and got rid of them and his boxers.

“Are you ok?” he asked.

“Yes,” you replied. “Haven't felt better in a long time, actually.”

“Me too,” he added, laying on the bed, his hand caressing your inner thighs that he kissed, then he spread them with his hands.

He ran his thumb over your folds, covering it in your wetness until he reached your clit and gently rolled it under his finger. You moaned, spreading your thighs wider. 

He leaned down, his shoulders taking possession of the space between your thighs, the scent of your arousal filling his nostrils. He licked a long stripe from your drooling hole to your clit, then placed his hands on the inside of your thighs, pressing your knees against the sheets, and you willingly let him do it, your hands sliding into his hair. He pushed his tongue into your cunt, growling against your folds. He never thought he would taste you again and an overwhelming feeling was running through his whole body. You were leaking into his mouth, down his throat and he pressed you against him, greedy for what you were giving him as your hips rolled towards him. His nose brushed perfectly against your clit, like it always did before. You clung to his hair as your moans were getting louder and louder.

"I'm so close, Joel," you murmured, hands lost in his curls. "Please, baby, please." 

“Take what you need, use me, sweetheart.”

“Oh my god, Joel… I’m gonna… I’m coming, fuck!”

He didn't let go of you, leaving his tongue buried in your pussy and his nose against your clit, gripping  your waist with his hands, as if they were in their natural place, your flesh welcoming them.

“Joel…” you whimpered.

“Another one, please, baby. Let me give you another one, ok?”

“I’m not sure if I can… I don’t know if I can,” you panted.

“Lemme try, ok?”

“Ok,” you whispered.

His tongue left your pussy, licking your puffy folds before teasing your swollen clit. His middle finger slid along your folds before he pushed it in you gently, immediately adding a second digit. His fingers pumped into you, making your wetness flow down to the sheets. He kept you pressed against the mattress, as he had done so many times, drunk on your taste and smell. His cock ached but he resisted the urge to grind himself against the bed, afraid of not being able to hold back and come on them.

“I can feel you clench on my fingers, you’re gonna be a good girl and come again for me?” he asked, before swirling his tongue over your clit again. “Thought about it so often,” he added, still pumping your drooling cunt with his thick fingers, then licking and sucking your clit.

“Yes, fuck yes,” you whined, just before you came on his diggits, clit pulsing against his tongue.

He crawled over to you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and smashed his lips against yours, your wimpers now disappearing between them.

“I wanna suck your cock, Joel,” you breathed against his lips, but he shook his head. 

“Sweetheart… I'd love it too but I’m gonna come the second you’ll take me in your mouth,” he said. “And I really need to feel you around my cock. All the way this time, not just the tip. You’re ok with that, baby?”

“Of course, need to feel you too.”

“Damn you’re so pretty,” he said, and kissed you.

He grabbed his cock in his hand, the tip leaking, swollen and red, and nestled it at your entrance, pausing there for a moment before thrusting in. 

“Oh fuck…” you whined, making him stop.

“No, no no, don’t stop, I’m ok. Need all of you, please,” you whimpered.

Like years ago, he would give you everything you needed from him. So he didn't stop until he bottomed out. 

“Shit,” he groaned, feeling his balls tightening, ready to explode. He was struggling so hard not to come, but his breath was hitching with every thrust since he felt your pussy around him. 

You kissed, hips rolling towards each other softly and slowly. He loved to feel you around him again, and again he thought that your bodies were made for each other. He was sure of it more than ever. He slid his arms under your shoulders and you licked his neck, right at his pulsating point, then kissed the thin and delicate skin crossed by its veins.

“I won’t last, baby, I’m sorry…” he panted.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, taking him deeper.

“It doesn’t matter, fill me, Joel, please, just like before,” you begged, making him grawl, and he placed his thumb against your clit. It was enough to give you soon another climax and you pulsed around his shaft, digging your fingers into his skin as you came once again. He thrusted in a few times before burying himself, balls deep in your cunt, and shot his cum into your core, filling it to the last drop, his forehead against yours.

“Fuck, sweetheart….”

“I know,” you breathed. “Just like before.” 

For a few minutes both of you were panting loudly, waiting to catch your breath.

Then you caressed his cheek and he kissed you until he pulled away and lay down facing you.

“Come here, baby,” he said, welcoming you against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, the way he always liked it so much. You stayed like that for a few minutes without talking. He just wanted to feel you against him, to hear you breathe slowly, to feel your skin against his. 

“I should have left with you,” he said suddenly.

You straightened up to look at him then said softly, “hey, no, don’t… Don’t hurt yourself by thinking that. You did what you had to do, and so did I. And we met again, like you said back then,” you added, and kissed him, then curled up in his arms again.

“We did,” he agreed, brushing your hair delicately. “So, that script?” he asked. “Was it to… like… get me back?”

“Of course it was,” you smiled against his torso, and he kissed the top of your head. 

“I’m happy you sent it to me, sweetheart.”

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[minkieater]

EIGHT FIRST DATES ꨄ︎

006 》 PARK SEONGHWA

maybe starting back at square one is what you needed. during a night out with two of your girlfriends you haven’t seen since your nights out at the frats, a particular bartender has perked your interest. before the question of will he accompany you at thanksgiving, will he let you have him so easily?

wc 21.7k i told y’all its getting juicy | smut minors dni, drinking, mentions of death, hwa’s situation is a lil fucked up

your bed was warm— warmer than usual, warmer than it should be. it felt comforting, relieving almost, you didn’t want to open your eyes and face the day, instead relish in the unending solace your bed was feeding you. you groaned, stretching your body out, half awake and eyes still shut, not expecting your arm to be stopped halfway in its reach. 

your eyes fly open, adrenaline shooting through you. you don’t remember leaving with jisung, and who the hell else could be in your bed? 

dark brown hair laid over his sleeping face, knotted and frizzed to oblivion, his face buried in one of your pillows. on his stomach, his arms were tucked underneath the pillow, face hidden behind his bicep, only a fraction of his face was visible to you. the last person you’d ever expected was asleep next to you, radiating over six feet of body heat. you can feel your heart pounding against your chest, racking your brain for any memory of the night before. you remembered being in the car, san carrying you inside, but after that was darkness— nothing. 

you’d definitely gotten more drunk than intended, but this drunk? to wake up next to yunho? your hand comes up to clutch your chest, checking for clothes on your body— a big tee hung loose on your shoulders, but as you rubbed your legs together, they were bare, which means the possibility is there. 

you erupted in flames, there’s no way. 

“yunho.” you whisper yelled, but he didn’t so much as stir, muffled snores coming from his nose. you shook his shoulder once, twice, voice getting louder, “yunho!” 

one of his eyes peeled open, looking at you for just a moment before his eyebrow curled up in question. his eyes slowly moved as he took in his surroundings, as realization set in– he didn’t seem as taken aback as you were.

“morning,” he grumbled as he untangled his arms from beneath your pillow, flopping onto his back. he stretched his arms behind his head and you watched as his chest puffed outward, the muscles in his biceps flexed, how his fingers scrunched to fists. 

you swallowed, still whispering, “why are you in here? yunho, there’s no way we—”

he looked at you as if you had three heads, answering your question before you asked it, his neck snapping to the side and eyebrows hung so low above his eyes you felt stupid for even considering the fact you might’ve done something. a sound of amusement left his nose and his face softened, his voice deep and mangled with sleep as he said, “you were drunk and asked me to stay with you, i didn’t really have the option to say no. plus, i was kinda scared you’d choke if you got sick again or something.” 

your cheeks flush again, the embarrassment growing worse. you bring your palm to your forehead, trying to rack your brain of events from the previous day, groaning. “i’m sorry, thank you for staying with me.” 

he laughs, a deep chuckle, one you’d never heard before, “do you know how fucking insane you sleep? hitting me, throwing your entire body on top of me, i woke up at least four times.” 

a smile grows on your face, some of the embarrassment washing away— he was being normal about it, you had no reason to not be. “good, you deserve it.” 

“hey,” he warns, then yawns, speaking through it, “you said you were tired of being mad at me. no take backs.” 

“i don’t remember saying it, so it doesn’t count,” you sit up in your bed, and your head pounds. you groan, palm returning to your forehead, a slew of curses flying from your mouth. 

yunho audibly stretches again then sits up next to you, “let’s get you meds and food.” 

you frown, “what if i just go back to sleep?” 

“at least brush your teeth,” his nose scrunches up, “you got sick last night, like, all over the parking lot.” 

your eyes nearly bulge out of your head and you gasp in shock, the remnants of your embarrassment showing in your flushed cheeks. “you didn’t at least flush my mouth out with mouth wash?”

he gives you a look that says are you kidding me?

“you’re right, you did more than enough. thank you for taking care of me,” you nod in defeat, tone genuine despite the humor laced behind your entire exchange so far. you take a second getting out of your bed, bones cracking as your legs bend over your mattress, you slept like shit. 

while brushing your teeth, memories of yesterday flood your mind like flashbacks, going through the hours of the day from start to finish. you groan with a mouth full of toothpaste, hand coming to hit your forehead again, embarrassment washing over you again. from almost falling off of jisung’s shoulders to kissing him in front of everyone, you think maybe you should just pretend yesterday never happened. 

when you come out of the bathroom, yunho is still in your bed, laying on his back, typing away on his phone. you pull on some sweatpants and turn to him, “are you cooking breakfast?” 

his phone hits the bed, eyes pointed, “you should at least help.” 

your lips pulled into a line, but you couldn’t argue. “fine.” 

you followed behind yunho all the way down to your kitchen where vivi was sitting at the kitchen island, passing your mom and matt in the living room on the way there. they all mumbled different versions of good morning, your house smelling of freshly brewed coffee and whatever candle your mom had burning. 

“morning vee,” yunho greets as he comes around the corner of the island, picking up her coffee mug from the granite. he takes a sip and grimaces, “needs more cream.” 

“we don’t have any,” she complains, not batting an eye at yunho for stealing her drink, “only tiny’s oat milk.” 

“hey,” you frown, “i need that, don’t waste it.” 

“i’m not wasting it if i’m drinking it,” she bites back, then plants her palms on the counter to stand, slipping off of her chair. 

“we’re about to make breakfast,” yunho says, and she stops in her movements, “you should stay and help, or laugh at tiny when she tries to cook.” 

a smile spreads across vivi’s face, blue hair laying over her cheeks. she climbs back into the chair, setting her sweatshirt covered elbows down on the counter with her chin in her palms, “good thing you’re here yuyu, she’ll burn the whole fucking house down if she tries to cook on her own.” 

“hey!” you plant your hands on your hips on the opposite side of the counter, “i am more than capable of making eggs and bacon.” 

vivi raises her eyebrows in amusement, “yeah, okay.”

you let out a huff and make your way to the coffee machine, grabbing your mug from the cabinet above the machine, pouring yourself a full cup. after adding oat milk and taking three ibuprofen, you were ready to cook— behind your back, yunho had already begun laying out all the ingredients. 

footsteps came slowly down the stairs, getting louder as they hit the platform and you know the others are awake. you turn to vivi, “when’s ace coming home?” 

vivi doesn’t look up when she answers, “some time this morning, pretty sure.” 

your lip lifts in dissatisfaction. you raise your voice, head turning in the direction of the living room, “mom, when’s ace coming home?” 

“his location says he’s twenty minutes away, i don’t know if he’s dropping reia off,” your mom yells back from the living room, and san winces at the volume as he enters the kitchen. 

yeosang follows behind through the threshold, san has a hand raised up to the side of his head. with a bare torso and sweatpants, he frowns, “it’s too damn early for you to be yelling.” 

“i dare you to go say that to her,” you jutt your chin out in the direction of the living room, smirking at san. he rolls his eyes, but takes your challenge to your surprise. 

“mom, it’s too damn early to be yelling,” san says just loud enough for her to hear. 

“tiny yelled first!” your mom argues, completely dismissing san calling her mom— she’s used to it. you hear her footsteps before you see her as she makes her way into the kitchen, hair and makeup done already. “take some ibuprofen, i know you all got trashed yesterday.”

“tiny got the most trashed out of all of us,” yeosang defends himself, taking a seat next to vivi at the counter. in a white tee and basketball shorts, definitely clothes he keeps in the guest room dresser, he looked exhausted. 

your mom stands at the entrance to the kitchen, taking in the sight of all of you. she looks you up and down, popping an eyebrow as she said, “i can tell.” she walks further into the kitchen, taking a seat at the table off to the side, “who drove?”

“yunho,” you answer, pointing in his direction with your thumb, then slid the bottle of ibuprofen across the island to the two boys. you didn’t even look at yourself when you brushed your teeth, too consumed with embarrassment from the day before— you couldn’t imagine what you looked like. 

“good boy,” your mom smiles with affection in her lens-covered eyes, she loves yunho— every parent does. “how was it? did you see who you wanted to see?” 

yunho turns on the stove, grabbing a pan from one of the cabinets beneath the kitchen island. he places dairy free butter on the pan as it heats up, and you grab for the eggs beside the stove. 

“it was so good,” yeosang answers for you, turning around in his chair to face your mom, “we saw everyone we wanted to. tiny’s friends were really cool too— oh, guess what?” 

your mom leans forward, “what?” 

“i met a guy.”

you tune them out as you crack an egg over the heated pan, grateful yeosang took over the conversation. vivi watches you and yunho, her chin still in her palms, you had mere centimeters between yourself and the boy you slept next to. the thought brings heat to your cheeks and you crack the egg a little too hard, some of the shell falling into the pan. 

“teens,” vivi whines, “it’s the first egg and you already fucked it up.” 

“she’s gotta warm up,” yunho waves a hand in your sister’s direction, “let her cook.” 

you fight a smile, tightening your lips as your eyes lead to vivi’s. she rolls hers in annoyance, “if i taste one shell in my eggs i’m suing you.” 

“suing me?” you say a little louder, the nerve. “you’re so dramatic, make your own damn eggs.” 

“yun, where did you sleep last night?” san asks from across the island, sat next to yeosang at the island. he’s leaned over the granite, cheek in his palm, looking half asleep. “your bed was basically untouched when we woke up.”

your eyes widen and your head snaps up to look at yunho, who’s quick to answer. “on the couch.” 

your mom directs her attention to yunho, her head turning to squint in his direction. before san could get a word out, she interrupts, “i was down here at five and you weren’t on the couch.” 

yunho’s eyes look at you for a split second before he sighs in defeat, he was too tired to lie his way out of this. you held your breath as he said, “i slept in tiny’s bed.” 

the entire kitchen snapped to look at you and yunho with something between shock and confusion. too similar to a sitcom, all four of them in the same tone asked, “what?” 

yunho shrugs, and as if he’s done it a million times before and it was no big deal, he says, “i was scared she’d get sick again.” 

yeosang lifts a single eyebrow, “i think we should put a pin in this conversation until ace gets home.” 

simultaneously, vivi lets out a loud chuckle as she says, “you got sick?! at a music festival?”

you scoff, “yes, i got sick— and what’s ace gonna do?” 

vivi has a wicked smile on her face as she mumbles under her breath, “that’s so embarrassing…”

“i just feel like he should be here for the discussion of tiny and yunho sleeping together,” yeosang says and then turns to san, “don’t you think?” 

san is staring at the two of you, still in complete surprise. you feel like maybe everyone is overreacting just a bit. yunho had taken over cooking the eggs long ago, you planted your hands on the counter beneath you and stared down your two friends. “first of all, don’t say it like that, you guys act like we’ve all never slept beside each other before. do you not remember all of our slumber parties in the basement? you only took over the guest room like, a year or two ago.” 

“that’s different,” san counters, “that's all of us together.” he turns to yeosang, a grin growing on his cheeks, “i wonder what ace will say.” 

you shake your head with a look of disgust on your face, then you turn to look up to yunho, “why are you so quiet? defend my honor here.” 

yunho shrugs like he doesn't care at all, “they’ll stop once there’s food in front of them.” his nonchalance was going to be the death of you. 

“yuyu, when will the food be ready?” vivi’s cheek is in her elbow now, laying on the countertop as if she’d fall asleep within minutes. “i’m so hungry i'm going to die.” 

“i told you already,” you snap, “make your own damn eggs.” 

vivi picks her head up, pointing her gaze at you, “you aren’t even doing anything! yunho’s cooking the eggs and the bacon!” 

“vivi,” your mom warns from the kitchen table, she stands up and makes her way towards the island. “be nice to tiny or else yunho won’t give you any of the food he made.” 

you look up to your mom who was wearing the craziest smirk. vivi snaps her neck, “what does that have to do with anything?” 

your mom doesn’t answer, she simply shoots yunho a wink before walking back to the living room. she yells over her shoulder, “make sure you clean up!” 

you slowly turn to look up at yunho, giving him a questioning look and mumble under your breath, “that was weird.” 

“whatever, let’s eat,” he brushes you off, putting eggs and bacon onto plates. “damn, we should’ve made toast.”

“wait, i can do that!” you exclaim, whipping around your kitchen to grab the toaster from another cabinet and a loaf of bread from the pantry. this was easy— you couldn’t mess up toast. you steal a piece of bacon from the serving plate, keeping it hanging out of your mouth as you put bread in the toaster, turning it on. 

you hear the front door open and everyone’s head turns. ace’s groggy voice calls from the foyer, “i’m home!” 

“we’re in here,” you call back, eyes back on the toaster, awaiting your toast to pop from the silver appliance. 

ace and reia make their way into the kitchen and yunho is back behind the stove, heating the pan once again, “you guys hungry?” 

“yes, please,” reia smiles, standing around the island. ace kisses her cheek before moving around the countertop, stealing a piece of bacon from san’s plate and eating half the strip in a singular bite. 

the toaster pops and you pull out two slices of bread, throwing them down at the two boys at the end of the island. you pop in two new pieces of bread and push down on the lever, then ask your twin and his girlfriend, “how was your weekend?” 

“so good,” reia gushes, leaning onto the counter now, her elbows on the granite. “we had a gorgeous cabin, a hot tub on the balcony, it even snowed.”

“damn, how far away were you?” san asked, biting into a piece of bacon, his mouth already full. “it wasn’t even close to cold enough for snow here.”

“like three hours away,” ace answers, “long ass drive, it only flurried, didn’t stick or anything. how was the music festival?”

“don’t even ask,” you put a hand up, “save me the embarrassment, i beg you.”

ace smiles, “did you at least get to see jungle?” 

“yes!” you exclaim, the thought bringing a smile to your face that matched his exactly. “it was incredible.” 

“wanna know something?” yeosang turned to ace, a cocky smile on his face, only turning to you for a split second to smirk before he brought his attention back to ace. your twin nodded, mindlessly chewing on a piece of vivi’s bacon that he’d stolen while she was checking her phone. “tiny and yunho slept together last night.” 

“gross,” ace grimaced, then looked up to yunho, eyebrows raised in a way you couldn’t place, unusual for the person you shared DNA with. 

“finally,” reia answered simultaneously, a smile spreading across her face. the kitchen went silent, six heads staring up at reia, all wearing different expressions. you didn’t have time to read every one before you were doing damage control.

“finally?” you ask, eyebrows twisted in confusion, face wearing something between shock and disgust. you whined, “why’d you say it like that, yeo? we slept next to each other.” 

reia’s posture shrank, her lips pursing, she quickly looked away from you and to ace instead, probably for him to do his own damage control for what she just said. you put your hands on your hips, “you’ve never been silent once in your lives, speak. what do you mean by "finally?” 

reia stumbles over her words and ace cuts her off with a nonchalance he’s been practicing for twenty years, “finally as in you’ve been looking for a boyfriend for almost six weeks now, and we all know yunho’s a keeper.” 

yeosang and san nod in agreement, san even using his thumb to point in ace’s direction with a mouth full of eggs. you scoff, “if i was that desperate, i’d just bring yeosang.” 

yeosang fist pumps the air, “i’m special.”

“definitely special,” you mumble under your breath as more toast pops from the toaster, and you keep a piece for yourself before handing out the other. 

“are you gonna call mingyu today?” san asks from the end of the island and your head snaps up, staring at him in surprise. you must’ve said something about it last night. 

“why the hell would she do that?” ace asks, upper lip lifted in disapproval. “don’t do that.” 

“she talked about it last night,” san shrugs, “she was crying in the car like, ‘i miss him, jisung was nothing like him.’ i was just wondering.”

ace sucks a breath in and your face flushes, out of embarrassment and guilt towards jisung. you hoped he didn’t know how you felt, you had a great time with him, he didn’t deserve to feel a fraction of sadness because of you. 

“moment of weakness,” was your answer, reality seeming to wash over you again. that’s right, that was your whole intention behind yesterday– getting drunk, forgetting about mingyu, getting better. except what happened was the exact opposite. “no, i won’t call him.” 

“good,” yunho answered with a heavy hand on your shoulder, “no more getting drunk to forget about him, either.” 

you looked up to him with a weak smile, “will do.” 

──────  ꨄ︎

you hadn’t seen any of your girl friends in ages. the last time you went out together was months ago, a weekend at the frats that you barely remembered, time that you barely spent together. you’d brought the boys along that night, you spent half the time getting a handle on them and the other half up in heeseung’s bedroom– you were overdue for a night out, and actually spending it with the girls this time around. 

giselle and julie, two girls you’d met your freshman year of college, you were in the same pre-rec classes. you got together well, but you were never super close– you had your hands full with your boys, maybe that was your fault. to make matters worse, maybe vivi had a point when she said the only girls you hangout with are your cousins, you had to prove her wrong, the sixteen year old can not and will never be correct. 

sat around a table at a bar near campus, the two girls were talking your ear off, asking you for a list of life updates. julie’s smile reached ear to ear as she sipped her fruity drink, “there has to be a guy, it’s been months!”

“there’s been,” you lifted your hand, counting on your fingers– hyunjin, chan, mingyu, jisung… “four guys, actually.” 

“what?” they exclaim simultaneously. giselle continues, “four? and we heard about none of them?” 

she’s right– and to think a few weeks ago you ached to talk to a girl who didn’t know anything about mingyu, an unbiased opinion, to hear you out. you had two girls sitting right in front of you that you could have talked to the entire time, could have spilled every detail and every emotion to. you physically relaxed, shoulders dropping, your jaw unclenched. you missed them. 

“the first one was hyunjin,” you began, and the entire story unraveled. you told them everything– you didn’t need to hold anything back. from the lie you told to your cousins to the age gap between you and mingyu to almost falling off of jisung’s shoulders– they heard every detail. 

“so, hyunjin was an asshole, chan is still your friend, mingyu is the love of your life, jisung was a rebound situation,” giselle pondered after you finished, twirling her straw in her drink. “who the hell even are you?”

“what happened to our baby who barely looks at anyone other than heeseung?” julie teases, and giselle giggles at her question. 

“heeseung was never anything serious and you two know that better than anyone,” you shake your head, “he just wanted to fuck, and i just wanted to fuck him.” 

“i always thought there was more there,” giselle counters with a shrug, “i can’t believe yunho slept with you.” 

“and the way–” julie forces a repulsed shake throughout her entire body, “–ace’s girlfriend said finally? what the hell does that mean?” 

“you need to get over that, jules,” giselle comments, “he’s literally her brother.” 

“every time i look at her i’m reminded of him, it’s not my fault!” julie puts her hands up in defense then brings her eyes to you, “back to the real problem here, please, yunho and the word ‘finally’?” 

“i agree, the finally thing was weird, but ace said it was just because yunho’s a keeper and if it came down to him being my boyfriend– oh.” 

“oh?” the two girls ask. 

“that motherfucker was lying,” you gasp, looking at them with wide eyes. “that finally totally meant something else.” 

“in what way?” julie asks. 

“in a they’re rooting for you and yunho kind of way?” giselle leans closer, holding her glass between both hands. “he is hot, and he’s tall as fuck. what school does he go to again?” 

you cringe, “ew, ew ew ew, i can’t think about him that way. before all of this, ace even suggested that i choose yunho, san or yeosang, but i think he was just saying it so i’d get our cousins off my back– i don’t think he realized that i actually wanted a boyfriend out of this. maybe i didn’t either when i first did all of this.” 

“so ace is rooting for you and yunho and reia’s heard all about it,” julie says in a matter-of-fact kind of way, like she’s putting together puzzle pieces. 

“plus, vivi was being a bitch to me the other morning when we were making breakfast and my mom said that yunho wouldn’t give her any food if she was mean to me,” you raise your eyebrows, as if you were putting together puzzle pieces now, too. 

“so ace and your mom are rooting for yunho,” giselle gasps, then her and julie share a look. 

you bring your surfside up to your lips as giselle asks, “well, how has yunho been during this whole dating situation? has he been supportive?” 

you tilt your head, “at first, i mean, he drove me to my date with hyunjin, but once mingyu came around it was like a total 180– he was not happy about mingyu. then he was supportive again with jisung.”

“mingyu seems to be the only one that would’ve really worked,” giselle lifts her brows, sitting back in her chair. “i’m realizing things that i’m not sure should be realized.” 

you bring a palm to your forehead, sighing. “we should get drunk.” 

“hammered,” julie agrees, setting her now empty glass down in front of you, giselle following suit. 

“i’ll get us another round,” you say and hop up from your chair, taking a deep breath. 

this is all too much– you have never looked at yunho like that in your life, not even when you were in high school and in your horny phase, with a crush on anything that walked and had a heartbeat. you’d be damned if you talked yourself into it now, not even knowing if yunho felt the same way. it made sense, but it made so much sense that you felt that it had to be planned, set up– made to convince you. you weren’t sure if you were even making sense at this point– all you knew was that you and yunho would never happen. 

you were going to drive yourself insane. 

as you made your way up to the bar, it was busier than when you got here. familiar faces surrounded you, being so close to campus, but none that you’d actually say hello to. you found one spot open as if it was meant for you to take, and you stood with your upper half slightly leaned over the luster deep oak, hopefully so the bartender would notice you. 

the bartender… you knew him from somewhere. dark as onyx, straight hair that touched his strong looking shoulders, a slender figure, sharp jaw and curved nose that was nothing short of stunning– is he really just a bartender with a face like that? you really hoped he’d notice you, and not just for drinks. you wish you styled your hair neater this morning, applied your makeup with more care, you didn’t think you’d be scouting tonight on top of getting drinks with friends. 

“what can i get for you?” he asked, flashing you a blinding white smile, a set of perfect teeth on his perfect face. his eyes were as dark as his hair, skin a deep golden, almost reflective with the heat he was no doubt feeling behind the busy bar. 

you stuttered as you told him your drink orders for the table, internally smacking yourself for the mishap. as he cracked your can, you watched his fingers grip the bar key with practiced movements– it triggered your memory. you lifted a brow, “by chance, were you working the music festival across the city this past weekend?” 

“i was, yeah,” he said with a small chuckle, handing three drinks to you. “here you go.” 

“thank you, i knew i recognized you from somewhere,” you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear with a smile, “funny you work so close to my campus.” 

“campus? should i be ID’ing you again?” he wore a lazy smirk, standing with his weight shifted onto his right leg. 

“no, i’m a senior,” you waved your hand, “no need.” 

“tab?” he asks, already making his way back to the computer. 

“han,” you call after him, “han julie, i think it’s under.” 

internally you slam your fist against the bar… han julie is so close to han jisung. you set it up with chan earlier today in class to meet with jisung tomorrow, you needed to get your jacket back, but you also needed to tell jisung it wasn’t going to work out– if he even thought it would after you left in such a mortifying way. impending doom loomed over you.

seonghwa shoots you a thumbs up without looking back at you and you scurry back to the table with heat on your cheeks. as you sit down, you immediately spill, “that bartender worked the music festival last weekend, isn’t he hot?” 

“seonghwa?” julie pops a brow, “he’s been working here since before we started coming here.” 

“i’ve never been here, i had no idea,” you answer, immediately taking a sip from your can. 

“as regulars of this establishment, we still know absolutely nothing about him,” giselle says with her lips pursed, making you giggle. she continues, “the other bartender though, belle? we know all the drama,” she smirks.

“there’s bartender drama?” you question, getting more comfortable in your seat. the music is louder now as people start to file in, for a wednesday you didn’t think it’d get busy– you supposed in a college town any night was like a friday. 

“of course there’s bartender drama– you see that guy over there? shaggy brown hair, red shirt, big lips, super cute,” julie points to the end of the bar, “that’s jake, they’re hooking up, have been for a few months now. see the guy next to him?” you nod and julie giggles, “sunghoon, also hooking up with belle. they’re friends, have no idea they’re both sleeping with her.”

you gasp, “how do you pull off something like that?” 

“belle is a bitch,” giselle shrugs, “neither of them get special treatment. easy.” 

a hand comes over your mouth as you laugh harder, “how do you know that?” 

“see that other guy sitting at the table over there? yellow beanie, hoodie, jeans. that’s jungwon, he knows everything, is friends with both of them, but doesn’t tell them. he told us, though,” julie laughs and giselle high fives her, both of them erupting into a fit of giggles. 

“you were not kidding about being regulars here,” you say through a breath, “aren’t they in the same frat as heeseung?” 

“yes,” julie nods, “but hee never comes here, don’t worry.”

“i’m not worried,” you shake your head, “i am curious about seonghwa, though. you guys really know nothing about him?” 

julie leans into the table, leaning her chin on her palm, “he’s more closed off, doesn’t fraternize with the girls who throw themselves at him. keeps to himself, doesn’t get into the usual local bar drama.” 

you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, contemplating. he’s gorgeous, not one for drama, keeps to himself… you could get behind that, put all your worries behind you– how is the question. 

“don’t tell me you’re thinking of making him,” giselle pauses, counting on her fingers like you had earlier, “man number five.” 

“why not?” you say with a smile, “he might fix me.”

“girl, you don’t need to be fixed,” julie counters, “investigate the yunho situation.” 

“i will be forgetting the yunho situation from here on out, actually,” you say, then take a sip of your surfside. an idea comes to mind, and with a wicked smile on your face, you ask the two girls, “does anyone want a shot?” 

“jesus, who even are you anymore?” giselle asks jokingly, a smile growing on her face. she points her index finger in the air, “yes to the shot, though.”

her question sits with you as you walk back to the bar– you supposed you were different now, after all of this, experience changes a person. you should’ve kept in closer contact with them, kept them up to date on your life– you wondered if they’d like chan’s friends, too… 

“you’re back,” seonghwa says as soon as your ribs hit the bar, perfect teeth hidden by a tight smile of plump pink lips, “something wrong?” 

“not at all,” your cheeks flush, for some reason you can’t scrounge up a hint of confidence with him. he’s intimidating, not at all soft, or open– even if you wanted to crack that wall he put up, you couldn’t find it in you to try. “can i get three shots of tito’s?” 

seonghwa nods and grabs a bottle of ketel one from beneath him, then lays out three shot glasses. your brows furrow– did he hear you correctly?

“um, i’m sorry, i meant tito’s–”

“i heard you,” he doesn’t look up as he pours the clear liquid into three glasses, then slides them your way. “on me.” 

you cock your head to the side, it’s like he was feeding you an opportunity. “then can i have another round on me? and an extra for you.” 

his smile grows, “you want to buy me a shot?” 

“if you’ll let me,” you nod, trying hard not to bat your eyelashes at him. you didn’t want to be like the others, one flip of your hair and expecting to get your way– even if that’s what you were used to. if you were going to get him, it needed to be in a way that was appealing to him. a challenge. 

you call the other two girls over, taking your first round of shots with sour faces and deep exhales to get the taste out of your mouths so you can stomach another. seonghwa clinks his shot glass with the three of you, saying cheers as the glasses hit the bar again before you shoot them back. verbal exhales and sour faces again, seonghwa was the only one unaffected– you pulled your card out of your mini purse that was slung over your shoulder, “put the shots on this one, please.” 

“yes ma’am, thank you very much,” he nods, walking over to the computer again. “don’t go anywhere,” he calls after you, and you pause your turn back to the table, staying at the bar instead. the girls shoot you surprised looks over their shoulders as they scurry back off to the table, and you give them the same look back– it couldn’t have been that easy, right?

he returns with your card and two receipts, “you didn’t say leave it open.”

ah– no, not that easy, you’d have to work harder than that. an airy giggle leaves your throat as you pull out your phone’s calculator, and he picks your brain. “what’s so funny?” 

you look up after leaving a hefty tip and signing your name, “nothing, just thought you were keeping me here for another reason.”

he lifts a brow, “another reason, like what?” 

you suck on your bottom lip– it was now or never. “maybe to ask for my number or something, i don’t know.”

a sound of amusement leaves his lips and he looks down for a moment, it hits you right in the gut. you lift a brow as you slip your card back into your purse, “what’s so funny?” 

“i know those two girls, they must’ve told you i don’t fuck around with people who come to the bar, right?” he lifts his eyebrows, using his chin to point in the direction of your two friends who sat back down at your table. 

“they did,” you nod, the alcohol buzzing through you must have made every ounce of confidence return to you as you asked, “did you notice it was my first time here?” 

seonghwa nods. you keep your gaze on him, so straight faced as you answered you couldn’t believe it came from your lips, “then i’ll gladly never return if it means you’ll fuck around with me.” 

his lips curve upward, “that’s a new one. i’ll think about it.” 

you let the smile through as you turn on your heel, you’ll take that– it feels like progress, even if it was his way of getting you away from the bar. when you sat back at the table you kept your body language nonchalant just in case he watched you from behind the bar, he didn’t need to see you squealing to your two friends like a teenager, even if you were fighting for your life to keep your voice down. 

as you put your phone down on the table, you noticed notifications filling your screen– you were quick to unlock it and read. 

👨‍👨‍👦‍👦 (and tiny)

9:34 pm

yeo: helloooo what are we doing yeo: are we doing anything tn??

twin: im w reia

sannie: my boyyyy sannie: back in shawty’s good graces

yunho: thanks to me

twin: i’d like to think i had a hand in it as well idk

yeo: mainly thanks to yunho tho yeo: he’ll prolly plan ur engagement

you giggle to yourself, and type back. 

you: nah that's prob where i come in you: im at the bar by campus w giselle and julie you: im free after if someone wanna shcoop me

yeo: oh bruh ur drinking again  yeo: on a WEDNESDAY

sannie: no crying or getting sick this time pls

you: no im being casual and normal tn you: bouta get my claws on someone new you: imagine me laughing all evil rn

yeo: oop

sannie: oh

you: wish me luck ladies !!!

yunho: good luck be safe yunho: let us know when to pick you up

you loved the message and put your phone down, then shake it off as ease rushes over you. if yunho was seriously into you, he wouldn’t have interacted with that message at all. 

“who was that?” julie asks, sipping from her straw. 

“the boys,” you say with a wave of your hand, “they asked what we’re doing tonight.” 

“did you tell them to come here?” julie’s face lights up, eyes bright and eyebrows high, hope clear in her expression. 

“ace is with reia, sorry jules,” you frown, shaking the liquid around in your can. she immediately pouts. “they’ll pick me up later.” 

you look out onto the small dance floor where people have already begun occupying the space, dancing along to whatever pop song played through the speakers. with warmth flooding through you from the shots, the idea seemed almost appealing. you popped a brow as you looked at your two friends, who were already following your idea. 

you follow behind a head of pink hair as the head of black hair leads the way, the three of you falling into a triangle in the middle of the tiny dance floor. the group of you are all giggles and shitty dance moves, more swaying your hips than anything, heads thrown back in laughter and more than a drop of liquor fallen to the ground. it reminded you of the frats, being covered in a sheen of sweat in a dark living room, red solo cups in everyone's hands, the room so loud and hot it didn't take long before it started spinning. for a moment, you forgot why you stopped going– you almost missed it. 

“this makes me miss ENA,” you pout as you look at the other two girls, “are they still throwing?” 

“i don’t think they’ll ever stop throwing,” julie laughs, sipping her drink, swaying her hips. she stops dead in her tracks to give you a look, “does this mean you want to go?” 

“you haven’t stepped foot into ENA since you and heeseung…” giselle turns her head slightly as she stares you down, furrowing her eyebrows. 

“i know, i know,” you shake your head, “i don’t know, all that talk about the members tonight just has me thinking about it, i guess, and i haven’t seen you guys since our last night there.” you look over their heads, jake and sunghoon still sat at the bar then to jungwon in the corner, you let out a sarcastic laugh. “unity my ass.”

“i’m not against it,” julie shakes her head, “i’ve had my eye on sunghoon for a minute, i’ll make him forget all about belle.” 

you throw your head back in laughter, “we’ll go soon, then.” 

when you make it back to your table, your surfside wasn’t quenching your thirst in the way you needed it to. your legs were tired, you had loads of homework to do tomorrow, plus you missed your bed. before you sat down, you said, “i’m gonna go get water, then i think i’m gonna have the boys come get me.” 

“boo,” julie frowns, throwing a thumbs down in your direction. you smile, you did that same exact thing to yunho at the music festival. 

“i’m sorry,” you say in the same tone, “i’m tired.” 

you scurry off to the bar and seonghwa was even quicker to approach you this time. “more shots?”

“water, actually,” you nod, putting your elbow onto the bar, propping your chin on your palm. 

“dancing got you all tired out, huh?” he smirks as he scoops glass into a cup, pouring water from the soda gun. 

“you were watching?” you quirked a brow, taking the cup from his hand, muttering a thank you after you took a sip. 

“it might’ve caught my eye,” he shrugs, “you leaving?” 

“hope you enjoyed the show, then,” you smile, and a singular bat of your eyelashes cuts through your defenses. can’t win them all. “yeah, about to get picked up.”

“boyfriend coming to get you?” he asks, and he looks entirely serious when the words leave his lips. your top lip lifts in disgust as your eyebrows furrow. 

“have any of our interactions tonight made it seem like i have a boyfriend?” you bite, words unintentionally sharp. that was a stupid question on his part, even more so when you think of who’s picking you up. 

he simply shrugs and leans his arms against the bar, the muscles in his bare biceps tensing all the way up to his shoulders, pecs pushing against the cotton of his black tank top. you fight to not salivate. “who knows.” 

“i have half a mind to be offended right now,” you stand straight, propping a foot up on the step of the bar. “do you accuse every girl who flirts with you of cheating?” 

“not typically,” his entire demeanor bleeds not giving a fuck, “just can’t imagine a pretty girl like you is single.” 

“oh,” the word is weak as it slips from your lips, cheeks flushing again. “well, i am, and if you have any ideas on changing that i'll be here for another…” you look down to the nonexistent watch on your wrist, “...twenty minutes.” 

he chuckles, a genuine one, and you feel like you’ve won. “i don’t have time to date, if i did, i’d be like belle here.” 

belle passes behind him as he says the words and a brow quirks on her face, but she doesn’t say anything. that wouldn’t have made any sense to you if giselle and julie hadn’t given you the run down. you smile and counter, “i’m flexible.” 

“i’m not,” he says, and then he turns on his heel, giving you one more sentence over his shoulder before helping another patron. “hope to see you again, though.”

you stood dumbfounded for a moment before you were back off to your table, texting the boys to come pick you up immediately. rejection hurts no matter who it is, but to work up to something all night and have it pulled from beneath you is criminal. frustration sits on your face until your boys are outside to pick you up. 

after bidding the two girls goodbye with kisses on their cheeks and leaving a wad of cash on the table to pay for your part of the bill– and then some, probably, you didn’t count– you were in yunho’s car, ranting up a storm as soon as the backseat door snapped shut. 

“i’m not?!” you exclaim, you were sure you looked like a toddler throwing a tantrum. “that’s ridiculous.”

all three boys are wearing small smiles, amused by your rage. your eye twitches. “what is so fucking funny?”

“it’s wildly entertaining when you don’t get what you want,” san says, trying not to break out in a full laughter. “when it’s anger and not crying, specifically. a crying tiny makes me want to commit the rumbling.”

you pause, looking at san for a moment before your lip lifts upward, you couldn’t hold in the full laughter that erupts from you. after that the entire car is consumed in laughter at san’s statement, and just like that, all your anger is forgotten. what else are these three losers for?

──────  ꨄ︎

thursday had you weak. after getting drunk the previous night plus classes all morning, you were running around campus, under the dark looming cloud of jisung and what you had to do in a few minutes. you guessed you just had to feel him out, maybe he’d take it really casually, hopefully he didn’t even want anything further with you. hopefully he really meant lets just have fun.

on the way to the coffee shop on campus, the one you hung out at with chan not that long ago, you ran every single scenario through your head. what you’d say, what he’d say, if he’d take it well, if he didn’t, you quickly realized you didn’t know jisung very well. getting hammered with someone, sitting on their shoulders and mindlessly making out with them numerous times does not make for getting to know someone well. it was fun, though– until it wasn’t. 

if under different circumstances, that could’ve been one of the best nights of your life, and it very well still might be if this conversation goes well and you can let go of your embarrassment. 

with all intentions of ripping off the bandaid, no time to waste, you rip open the door to the coffee shop and rush inside, your adrenaline quickly fading at the sheer volume inside the coffee shop. or, you should say, lack of volume. 

you weren’t sure if all eyes were on you or if you made that up as you look around, avoidant of all eyes until you see the ones you came here for, chocolate and covered in big, thin frames. a smile spreads across your face as you walk toward the mop of curly hair just sticking out of a booth, slipping in the leather seat across from him. 

“hey,” his smile is shy, nervous. your jacket is folded neatly beside him, two cups of coffee in front of him. “i wasn’t sure what you like, so i got you an iced americano.”

“oh my god, jisung, you didn’t have to get me anything,” you say, shaking your head, but the smile hasn’t left your face. “thank you so much.” 

“no problem, i have your jacket, too,” his own smile grows as you take a sip of the coffee, no trace of discontent on your face. “are you feeling better?” 

“so, so much better,” embarrassment creeps up on you, “i’m so sorry for leaving how i did.” 

“it’s totally okay, i hope it wasn’t anything i did?” one side of his face scrunches, and you want to pinch his full cheeks. 

“no!” you exclaim, probably a little too loud. you quiet your voice, “it had nothing to do with you, it was self sabotage, really. i had such a good time with you, i wish it was under different circumstances. i know that doesn’t make sense.” 

“i feel like i kinda put the pieces together,” he purses his lips, fingers wrapping around his coffee cup, and you know that means please explain. 

you sigh, “i’m gonna preface by apologizing, i’m sorry if this is shitty, but it’s true. i was seeing this guy and i ended things with him, but it wasn’t on good terms. i figured getting drunk at a music festival would be my best bet to forget all about it, to make myself feel better, but clearly that wasn’t very smart.” 

jisung lifts a brow, “so the older guy that chan told me you were seeing…”

you cringe, “yeah, that would be him. that wasn’t smart of me, either.” 

jisung nods, “i understand. you knew i was interested in you though, right?” 

“yeah,” you breathe, “chan told me.” 

jisung sits back into the booth, his lips pursed again in thought. you bite your lip in the silence, waiting for him to say something. “hold on, i just want to make sure i’m understanding. you knew i was interested in you, and you came onto me, knowing that your heart was broken already and it wasn’t going anywhere.” 

you deflate, guilt rising in your throat like bile. your head drops forward, “again, jisung i am so sorry, i know it’s so unfair to you. if there’s anything i can do-” 

“i still like you,” he says simply, “which is stupid, but i do. i had a really good time with you on saturday and i thought we clicked really well, was that the alcohol? were you faking? just doing what you had to do to get over some other guy?” 

you stare at him, eyes widening, stumbling over your words. “what- no, jisung, i wasn’t faking it, i did have a really good time with you.” 

“you didn’t even ask chan for my number,” he argues, folding his arms over his chest. “i know i sound like a brat right now, but i genuinely feel kind of played. used, even.” 

“jisung, i thought you at least had a semblance of what was going on… you said let’s just have fun,” your voice was weak, nearly trembling as guilt and embarrassment made a carbonated cocktail in your gut.

“you think i agreed to be a rebound?” he raises his eyebrows and they sit higher than the frames of his glasses. “who in their right mind would agree to that?” 

you let out a breath of defeat. “jisung, i am so sorry, genuinely. you’re right, it was a shitty thing for me to do. if there’s anything i can do to fix it, please tell me.” 

“there’s nothing to do, i’m just sad, yanno?” his mouth stretches to one side, “all of our friends got along, it sounds stupid but i felt like i was looking into the future with just that one night.” 

that had tears welling in your eyes, but you kept them there. for the sake of your pride and not wanting to come off as manipulative– what the hell else could go wrong for you? 

“it doesn’t sound stupid,” you sigh, “and thank you for being so honest with me. i am so, so genuinely sorry for making you feel used and played, that was not my intention. can i tell you something?” 

he nods, then picks up his coffee to take a sip. you clasp your hands together atop the table and take a breath, “the tall one, yunho, told me that i should be twenty two and just live, to do whatever i want because i almost started dating a thirty year old. i was being selfish, the only thing i was thinking about was me and what i wanted, i wasn’t thinking about anyone else.” 

“this isn’t me making excuses, or defending myself in any way, but i haven't been dating for long, like barely six weeks, and i’m trying to navigate the whole idea of it. who i want, what i want, how i should act, what i should do– saturday isn’t how i’d normally act, i’ve never made out with someone i just met that day, i’ve never acted like that in front of so many people. i am so, so sorry you got that side of me, jisung. i am still learning, and i know at my big age that’s something i should know already, but unfortunately it’s not and you got hurt because of it.” 

you take a deep breath, “i know it’s not fair to you, and it’s wrong that i hurt you, i am not making excuses for myself. again i am so sorry, but thank you for telling me, for your honesty. you’re teaching me with this conversation.” 

jisung stares at you for a moment, before his lips twitch upward ever so slightly. “my first impression of you was that you were hot and untouchable, for some reason i feel a lot better after hearing all of that.” 

you stare back in shock, completely taken aback for a moment until a sound of amusement rips from your chest. “what the hell does that mean?” 

jisung giggles, “you’re just like me, you loser.”

“loser?” you gasp, “i am not a loser. go back to being mad at me immediately.” 

he takes another sip from his coffee, “thank you for apologizing, and owning up to all of that. this dating shit is not for the weak, i can understand where you’re coming from. does this mean i get a second shot?” you open your mouth to speak, but he interrupts, laying a hand on your jacket. “before you answer, i can hold this jacket hostage easily.” 

“i’ll make a deal with you,” you smile, “if i get my shit together and learn how to act right, then it’s me who will get a second shot with you. no need to hold my baby hostage.” 

he nods, “i’m not mad at that deal, but only come crawling back if you learned a lesson or two.” 

“maybe even three,” you nod, “are we okay?” 

“more than okay, tiny. next music festival we go to, you’re back on my shoulders again.”

your cheeks flush at the nickname, “no place i’d rather be.” 

after a few more minutes of conversation and an awkward goodbye, you left the coffee shop with an iced americano and your jacket in tow. you pull your phone from your pocket, a few unread messages on the screen, the first one catching your eye. 

4:06 pm unknown: is this who i think it is lol

you raise an eyebrow at the screen as you sip your drink, immediately responding. 

you: um idk you texted me dawg you: who is this

your walk back to the parking lot was slower than usual, your adrenaline was long gone, you were sure the conversation you just had only aided in making you slower. when you sat in the driver's seat of your car, the number still hadn’t responded, so you checked your other messages. 

3:12 pm yeo: want ramen yeo: craving ramen bad rn

you audibly say fuck to an empty car, if you’d gotten to answer just an hour earlier... 

you: YES you: am i too late you: pls tell me u didnt get already

you stare at your phone, waiting on an answer, tapping your foot along the floor of your car. 

yeo: got u spicy miso yeo: and extra egg yeo: u should be home by now

you: i love u soooooo hard you: ill kiss u  you: omw you: han jisung just read me for FILTH

you turned your car on and booked it out of the parking lot, forgetting all about the unknown number that texted you. the drive was quick, jungle playing through your speakers from start to end, your driveway filled with cars belonging to your friends. you saw ace’s closest to the garage, and reia’s parked right beside him– do any of these people ever have class?

“i’m home, give me my ramen immediately,” you say as you walk through the door, kicking your shoes off in the foyer. 

“hi to you too, teens,” matt answers from the living room, and you look up, everyone was sitting on the couches— matt, your mom, yeosang, ace, reia, yunho, san and vivi. 

“jesus christ,” you say, horrified at the literal army staring at you, “didn’t realize i had such an audience, were all of you waiting for little ol’ me?” 

ace snorts, digging his hand into the bag of chips between him and his girlfriend, “we’re watching episodes of america's funniest home videos on youtube.”  

“oh my god, pause it?” you yell, sprinting through the hallway to get your hopefully hot ramen from the kitchen. in all its glory, your ramen was still hot, in the middle of the island in a red to-go container, chopsticks still untouched laid on top of the lid. 

“how was class honey?” your mom asks from the living room as you damn near ripped the chopsticks apart and flung the lid off the top of the bowl.

“class was class,” you answer as you sip your broth, making sure the temperature was just right. you smiled in delight, it's perfect. “got my jacket back, han jisung ripped me a new asshole, though.” 

“what the hell does that mean? who’s han jisung?” your mom asks as you made it to the living room, her expression was nothing short of horrified.

you chuckled at her expression as you neared the couch, “chan’s friend, he basically said i was fucked up and the worst person to ever exist for playing him and using him at the music fest.” 

“what?” san asked, a bewildered expression on his face. “all you did was kiss the guy, that’s an insane accusation.” 

you shrug, facing the couch. “i kinda get it, i didn’t ask for his number or anything, i just kissed him a bunch and let him buy me drinks, then i didn’t speak to him again until i needed my jacket back.” 

you look at the seating arrangements on the couch and blink twice, silently telling the eight of them to make room on the massive sectional. matt interrupts and your shoulders tense, “that doesn’t sound like you, tiny.” 

vivi moved to the end of the chaise and san pivoted to the corner, leaving space between himself and yunho. you ignored the feeling in your stomach as you sat between the two, “how would you know, matt?” 

he sighs as you pull your legs under you, mixing your noodles around in the bowl. “i know you, whether you want to admit it or not, and playing around with some random guy’s feelings doesn’t sound like you at all. what happened to that nice guy? mingi?” 

“mingyu,” you correct him, “he just didn’t work out, and it wasn’t my intention to play with his feelings, i was just taking yunho’s advice.” 

“let’s not throw me under the bus, all i said was that you shouldn’t date a thirty year old because you’re still young and inexperienced,” yunho defends himself from beside you, and you smirk in response because you totally did just throw him under the bus. 

“yunho,” your mom whines, “we liked him, he was great!” 

“yeah, but what if tiny was engaged in six months? at twenty two years old? would we all be team mingyu then?” ace counters, “yunho did teens a favor if you ask me.” 

“no one is asking you,” you grumble, then take a massive bite of your ramen, shoveling it in your mouth. that iced americano did nothing to curb your hunger. 

“tiny, i don’t think you should be dating anymore,” matt shakes his head, speaking in his best parent voice, and you point your gaze at him from across the couch, shooting daggers with a mouth full of ramen. “it’s clearly bringing nothing good to your life, you can tell your cousins that you and your ‘boyfriend’ broke up.” 

“that’s like, the worst thing she could do,” vivi speaks up from the end of the couch, “karina and sakura will have a field day with that information, she’d never hear the end of it.” 

you give vivi an appreciative look the best you could with a mouth full of noodles, you think that’s the first time that’s ever happened. 

“you’re going to end up with irreparable damage done to you, like an STD, or something worse,” matt says, flailing his hands around as he speaks. your irritation grows as if it was being shot directly into your bloodstream.

you finally swallow your noodles, “do you think i’m going around fucking anybody and everybody?” 

“language,” he replies, “no, i don’t. but i think you should be careful—”

“i think you should keep your opinions to yourself,” you bring your bowl down to your lap, licking the broth off your bottom lip. “i’m an adult and i will do what i want with who i want, if i end up with an STD i’ll take my adult self to the doctors with my adult license and my adult car.” 

“with your adult insurance that isn’t mine?” matt counters, his voice raising. “because as much as you think you’re an adult, you’re still a child living under my roof.” 

“oh no,” ace mumbles under his breath, his forehead going into the space between his thumb and index finger. he’s heard this argument before. 

you let out a dry laugh as the heat grows exponentially, “your roof?” your laugh gets louder and your vision turns red, “you still really think it’s your roof? it’s my dad’s roof, my dad’s money that pays for all of this. i’ve seen the checks.” 

your mom scolds you from across the couch with your name, your actual name, and her voice is loud, laced with a tone you only hear when you argue with her husband. “you do not speak to him that way.” 

“why not? it’s not like he’s my fucking father,” you bite back, venom on your tongue. 

“you still speak to him with some fucking respect,” she was always best at giving back what you gave in the first place tenfold, “we were all just fine down here until you got home.” 

you lurch forward, “until i got home? how about until he opened his big mouth? you know what,” you stood up from your spot, bowl of ramen still in hand, “i’ll eat in my room since i’m the problem here. enjoy your show.” 

you stomp up the stairs, steam shooting from your ears. it felt immature, the pang of feeling fucking stupid was the only thing that followed you up the hardwood staircase, not a pair of footsteps came with it. good, you hoped they were all enjoying themselves down there, without you. 

no matter how idiotic it felt to fight with your mother’s husband in a room full of people, you couldn’t help it. something about matt, his incessant need to parent you, to get under your skin, to act like your father when he wasn’t him– it drove you up a wall. nothing else in your life triggered your short fuse, nothing else set you off the way he did. it happened all the time, you couldn’t stop it, you couldn’t fix it, you didn’t want to. 

it didn’t take long eating alone at your desk until your eyes caught the framed picture of your dad, and the cogs in your brain came to a full stop and your anger completely dissipated, replaced with a sadness and an ache only he could fill. 

──────  ꨄ︎

12:07 am unknown: that girl from the bar weds night? unknown: ur friends left ur number on the receipt when they closed out, i assumed u told them to lol

you curse yourself friday morning for not staying up later. 

8:21 am you: ohhh this is seonghwa? you: i did not ask them to do that lmaooo but they're real ones you: hey <3

to your surprise, he’s quick to answer. you blink back exhaustion and yawn, sitting up in your bed– you need full brain power to play the game. 

seonghwa: damn and i actually texted when u didn’t even want it seonghwa: im sick

you: LMFAOOOO you're up early you: didn't stay out late?

seonghwa: nah, working first shift at my other job seonghwa: could say the same about u seonghwa: except u didn’t text me back so im guessing ur well rested

you: omg two jobs a hardworking man! you: i have class so im up early either way 

you didn’t get a text back within a few minutes, so you got up a little earlier and went downstairs to make coffee. it was already brewing on the pot as you reached the kitchen, so you got your mug and oat milk out, ready to pour when the pot allowed you to. 

“you good?” ace asked as he walked into the kitchen, shirtless and in flannel pajama pants, scratching his clearly slept on head. 

you nodded, back pressed against your island, staring at the pot as if it’d make the coffee brew any faster. ace walked to your side, “you don’t have to get so defensive with him, you know.” 

you looked up at him through flattened brows, “fuck off.” 

“i’m serious,” he argues, “he means well, only has your best interest in mind. let him in sometimes.” 

a sarcastic smile plays on your lips, “like i said, fuck off.” 

“alright,” your twin shrugs, “i tried. don’t come crying to me when you’re over this immature bullshit and vivi and i have a relationship with him and you don’t.” 

“it’s too fucking early for this,” you groan, your head falling back. “i don’t need to hear this from you, anyone else is fine, but from you? keep your nose out of it.” 

“okay, tiny,” he shakes his head as the coffee pot dings, letting you know it’s ready. you make your regular cup and head back up to your room, sitting at your vanity with your phone face up. as if on cue, it lights up. 

seonghwa: i keep forgetting ur a student thats crazy seonghwa: with the tip u left me i feel like i owe u something. meanwhile ur a baby

you smile at your screen. 

you: im 22, not a baby you: you don’t owe me anything but if this is your way of saying you wanna see me then i’ll take it

seonghwa: im 26, thought i was gonna have to soft block u

you: that’s a hard block, how do u even know what that is? you're basically prehistoric

seonghwa: prehistoric is craaaaazy

you giggle, at least yeosang’s insult was good for something. you gather all of your products to do your hair and makeup, setting them up in the order of use in front of you.  

you: anyways, about seeing me?

seonghwa: still on the fence seonghwa: still not flexible 

you: only one of us has to be

seonghwa: im free after my shift tonight, but i work early in the morning so i'll be kicking ur ass out early if need be

you: i wont lie, that was easier than i thought it'd be you: give me a time and a place and im there

as you got ready for the day, your body was on fire with excitement, a wide grin on your face. he put up such a front on wednesday— who would’ve guessed how easily you’d tear his walls down?

classes went by with a breeze, you were inching closer to the short but much needed thanksgiving break, then the lengthy winter break when the real fun began. the only looming thought was the closer you get to thanksgiving break, the closer you get to thanksgiving. you, still boyfriendless– you let the thought pass by without rattling your nerves. you’d be getting one step closer tonight. 

seonghwa still hadn’t answered with a time or place after classes ended, even if it was only around three pm, you tried to not let it bother you. were you going to his place? then technically it’s not a date. 

it could be a date– it depends what you’d be doing at his place. you wondered what it looked like. you know he has two jobs, he clearly takes care of himself well, you imagined it looked similar to hyunjin’s apartment. dim, cozy, spacious, decorated well, maybe a bit on the more editorial side of furnishing a place, taking in seonghwa’s overall vibe. 

you began floating again, once more in dreamland, excited to get to know seonghwa. someone new, not in the bubble of people you’ve somehow created, someone on the outside. you didn’t meet him on a date with someone else, he isn’t a friend of a friend, he’s someone fresh, that no one knows. well, except julie and giselle, but for the sake of the moment, they don’t count. you convinced yourself into having high hopes– now he just needed to text you back. 

after class, you busied yourself with homework, even going into next week’s workload– still no text back. you were stumped, and no one else was even home to cure your boredom. you cleaned your room, changed your sheets, did laundry– took an everything shower, ate dinner, you were trying not to lose your mind by the time it hit seven, and still no one was home. 

why is no one in your house when you’re going crazy, but it’s a full house every other damn time?

he said he was working a shift tonight, was that at the bar? was he closing? that meant he might not be off until midnight. you sat on your bed, fully lotioned in your robe, with your index finger pressed to your lips. this was starting to look more and more like a booty call situation, and that was not what you were interested in. you had half a mind to text him first. 

you: i guess not then… 

no, that seemed too desperate. 

you: hello??

what if he thinks you’re clingy already and calls off the whole ordeal? 

you: if you want me to come over just to fuck i can tell u rn im not interested

now you just look flat out insane. you sigh, falling back against your bed, towel flying off of your head with the force you pinned yourself down with. you pulled your phone back up to your face. 

7:48 pm seonghwa: hey sorry i ran late for my other job i didn’t have time to answer seonghwa: im not closing tho so i should be okay for like 9:30?

a shriek leaves your lips and you sit straight up again, thank god you didn’t send any of those messages. you take a deep breath, beckoning your heart rate to slow down before typing out a response. you’d think after going on so many dates you’d be a little more casual… 

you: ur totally fine, are u sure ur not too tired? we can do another night

seonghwa: i don’t have another night unfortunately lol unless you wanna wait another week seonghwa: i get it if that’s too late or whatever

you pop a brow, he doesn’t have another night? what the hell does he do with all of his time, or lack of? 

you: no that’s fine, just lmk when ur off

seonghwa: [location:attached]

you hear the front door open downstairs and roll your eyes, fantastic timing for people to get home. your issue has already been solved. you supposed if he didn’t have any free time, it wasn’t a booty call situation, but really the only time he had to spend with someone else– your curiosity was more than sparked. at least you’d have things to talk about. 

you weren’t on edge getting ready, maybe you were getting more seasoned at this dating thing than you thought. you were grateful for it, though, especially since you assumed you were going to his place, most businesses were closed after nine except bars, you figured it was safe to assume he didn’t want to go to one after just leaving one. 

in the same lounge set you wore to see hyunjin, when seonghwa texted you that he was off his shift you were already ready to go. you assumed your parents were in bed already when you went downstairs, and you could hear the boys yelling from the basement, that meant they were on the game. a part of you ached that you hadn’t seen them since last night, but you brushed it off, you were leaving the house in stealth mode. if they didn’t know, they couldn’t meddle. 

seonghwa didn’t live far from the bar he worked at– which wasn’t far from campus at all. it was a quick drive, and parking was easy in his development. that was a weight lifted off your shoulders. 

the complex was mid-sized, three massive apartment buildings in a straight line. each building had the same makeup from the outside: gray siding, a black patio, two black front doors on either side of a staircase. the cement staircase led up to the next floor, which had two more doors on either side of the platform, and then one or two more floors that repeated. you’d never been here before– you wondered if you knew anyone else that lived in the complex, maybe someone that went to your school. 

seonghwa opened his front door before you made it up the cement walkway, a small smile on his face, “you were quick, i literally just walked in the door.”

your cheeks flush as you walk through the threshold into his apartment, “i’m a fast driver.”

“you look put together,” he says as you make your way in, and you whip your head around to look at him, not exactly sure how to take the comment, but his back was to you. 

“is that a compliment, or?” you trail off, slipping your boots off your feet. he let out a noise of amusement through his nose as he closed the door behind you, but he didn’t answer your question. 

“sorry, i had my siblings this week, they just went back to my mom this morning,” he ran a hand through his hair as he walked past you, “excuse the mess.” 

“not at all,” you looked around– the mattress from his bed was on his living room floor, if you could call it a living room, blankets and pillows thrown everywhere. “your place is adorable, it’s homey.”

it was also the last thing you expected from his place– far from hyunjin’s, far from anything you imagined. 

“i brought home food from the bar before the kitchen closed, if you’re hungry at all,” you followed him to his table that was just outside of the kitchen, the only place that was enclosed by a wall beside his bathroom, “it’s just chicken tenders and fries, there’s drinks in the fridge.  i’m gonna go take a shower.” 

he didn’t even look back at you before he slipped into the bathroom that was off the side of the kitchen, the only actual room in the whole place. you took a breath and pulled out a chair, cringing as it scratched against the light hardwood floor, cringing even more as it creaked when you sat down. before you pulled apart the to-go boxes, you took a moment to really look at seonghwa’s place.

it was clearly a studio apartment– almost a fully open floor plan, which you didn’t think was common for a complex like his. behind you was the kitchen, small but functional, it had a white stove with criminally old burners– you wondered if stoves that old still passed inspection these days– and beyond was a light wood countertop, save for a silver sink stuck directly in the center of the slab of wood. next to the stove was a washing machine which popped an eyebrow from you, you’d never seen one in a kitchen before. above was matching cabinets, one was missing a handle, the other two were a faded brass color. his fridge was small and white, a freezer beneath it, covered in little pieces of paper with drawings in crayon, streaks of red and blue across the pages, held up by alphabet magnets.  

how old were his siblings? 

you almost got out of your seat to look at the radiator, you’d only seen them in movies, it was like you had stepped back in time. the massive windows above the radiators that opened in the middle were breathtaking, you could only imagine cleaning on summer mornings, opening the windows to let fresh air in, music playing throughout the space.

the small table and chairs you were sitting at were placed more towards the common area, or living room you supposed, to tie the areas together. a wall separated the kitchen from the living room, which was openly connected to his bedroom, only a desk between his couch and bed– that didn’t have a mattress on it. 

his mattress was laid out in front of the couch, a mess of pillows and blankets thrown on top, his coffee table moved to the end of his bed. his wardrobe hung on clothing racks against the wall at the end of his bed, with a tv to the right, facing the couch. 

everything was so condensed into such a small space, you wondered how the hell he lived like this. you were positive you couldn’t even fit all the contents of your bedroom into a space this small. there was closet space directly next to the front door, and you wondered what he kept in there if all of his own clothes were out on display– a pit in your stomach grew, you felt bad for him. 

you unpackaged the to-go containers from the plastic bag, laying them out side by side, one box for chicken tenders and the other for fries. would it be rude if you checked his fridge for ketchup? 

you bit into a fry, feeling a little awkward with the only sound in the whole place coming from the bathroom. the muffled noise of running water should be more comforting than it is, but you couldn’t find any comfort in the situation you were in. you tucked your feet up onto the chair, wrapping one arm around your knees, the other grabbing another fry from the container. 

after what feels like hours, you hear the squeak of the knob until the water finally shuts off, and seonghwa walks back out into the open space in nothing but a towel tied around his waist. you tried your best not to gawk, but his body made it impossible– lean and muscular with droplets of water cascading down his skin, you almost felt wrong for looking. 

what made you actually turn your head was when he walked over to his clothing rack and dropped the towel. you gasped, wide eyes focusing on the to-go containers instead, blinking rapidly. he just got fully naked in front of you without saying more than three sentences to you, you think you either got yourself into a weird situation or he was just really comfortable with himself. 

maybe you should’ve told the others where you were going. 

barely a minute went by before he was next to you at the table, black sweatpants hung low on his hips as he sat backwards on the chair beside yours. he bit into a chicken tender, running a hand through his wet hair, shaking it out ever so slightly. 

you blinked at him, wondering if you were invisible. you cleared your throat, “i saw the pictures on your fridge, did your siblings draw them?” 

he shakes his head, face completely serious as he says, “i drew them, what do you mean?” you blink at him twice, honestly believing him before he smiles. “yeah, they drew them for me in school. cute, right?” 

you return the smile, a semblance of warmth returning to your body. “so cute, how old are they?” 

“four and six,” he says, and as if he was beating you to asking the question yourself, he adds, “my mom had me stupid young, had them stupid late.” 

“those are fun ages, though,” you grab another fry, “do they stay with you often?” 

“they are not fun ages, and they’re with me during the week, they see my mom on the weekends,” he shrugs as if that’s normal. your chest aches, you wonder about their situation. 

“oh,” you want to smack yourself across the face– you have so many questions, and all you can muster is oh? at the same time, you’re a little scared to pry, you don’t usually have trouble navigating conversations with anyone, but seonghwa was more than intimidating. you try a different route, “i have two siblings, too, a twin and a younger sister.” 

“you have a twin?” he raises his eyebrows, “is she hot, too?” 

“she is a he,” you correct him, “but if that doesn’t matter, we do look freakishly similar for being fraternal twins, yes.”

“how old is your younger sister?” he asks, grabbing a few fries from the container closer to you. you try not to get distracted by his fingers as they pass you. 

“sixteen, that’s the age that’s not fun. after thirteen, girls are insane until they’re in their twenties,” you joke, stretching one leg back to the floor. 

“girls are still insane in their twenties,” he doesn’t even look at you when he says it, his voice completely flat. “the six year old is a girl, nari, she’s an angel, it’s jun that’s a fucking menace.” 

“a menace?” you giggle, “how so?” 

“look at my living room,” he looks over to the mattress, blankets and pillows strewn about the floor. you cringe. “they usually sleep in my bed and i sleep on the couch, but he insisted we have a sleepover, and didn’t stop scream-crying until i moved the mattress to the living room. that was three nights ago and i still haven’t been able to move it back without him flipping out.” 

“aw,” your heart warms at the thought, you wish vivi wanted to spend time with you, too. your relationship could be so different. “he just wanted to be close to you.” 

“he wants to live inside my skin,” he doesn’t sound happy to say it, but you could see the faint smile on his face. “i’d let him, if i could. they’re growing up too fast.” 

“pretty soon nari will be the one whipping you into shape,” you lean onto the table, resting an elbow on the surface. “my sister does not let me breathe– everything i do is a problem. she makes fun of me for being single, for being lactose intolerant, for being mad at her when she steals my clothes. when i tell her to get off my back, she tells me i need to see a therapist.”

“sounds like typical sibling shit,” he pops a fry in his mouth, “it’s cool that you guys are close in age, though, at least she doesn’t slip up and call you mom.”

the ache in your chest gets worse– you can’t help but pry a little. “they call you dad?” 

“they’re four and six and see their mom eight days out of the month,” he lets out a dry laugh, “we don’t even share a dad and somehow i am their dad. we don’t have to get into it.” 

with that sentence, a part of you wants to get into it. he didn’t mention his dad once, and it could be the one thing you have in common– you keep it in your back pocket, not wanting to push him further. you sit in a beat of silence before you ask, “what’s your other job? you said you work two?” 

“three,” he corrects you, bringing a hand to rub his eyes. he did look tired. “i’m a bartender, an electrician and i pick up shifts at another restaurant downtown on the weekends sometimes.” 

you wonder where his siblings were on wednesday night. “damn,” you say under your breath, “i almost feel bad for being here.”

“don’t be, i invited you,” he shook his head once, “wouldn’t have done that if i didn’t want company. what do you do?” 

god, it felt so wrong to say you didn’t work one job compared to his three. “uh, i’m a student. full time.” 

“ah,” he nods without a single reaction to you being unemployed, “what are you in school for? wait, let me guess.” 

“psych major.”

“no.” 

“communications?”

“no.”

“damn. nursing?” 

“no.”

“damn!” he laughs, and the sound is music to your ears. finally, some emotion. “i’m stumped.”

“education,” you laugh with him, “i want to be an elementary school teacher.” 

“is there a story involved as to why you want to teach? or you just like kids?” he finishes off the plate of fries, looking at you like he was fully interested in what you had to say. it helps ease more of the tension you weren’t sure was one sided.

“no story, i just like kids,” you nod, and cross one leg over the other. “i’ll start student-teaching soon, so maybe i’ll see jun or nari in my classes.” 

“i’ll tell them to bully the fuck outta you,” he gets up from his chair, closing the to-go containers and stacking them on the table, a smile on his face. “tell junie to do all of this to your classroom.”

“none of my business as long as i’m student teaching,” you counter, “i’ll encourage him behind the real teacher’s back. maybe even give him new ways to make forts in your living room.” 

“speaking of my living room,” he says as he walks toward the mattress, stopping just before it with his hands on his hips, looking over his shoulder at you. “should i move it back? or should we ignore it and sit on the couch like it’s not even there?” 

“we could always lay on it,” you offer, “i’m not too old for a sleepover if you’re not.” 

he smiles, then without answering, bends down to sort out the blankets. you get up from your spot at the table and pad over the hardwood floor to where he stood, helping him lay out the blankets a little nicer– even if you’d ruin them by getting onto the bed, anyways. it scratched an itch you didn’t realize needed scratching. 

as you get comfortable on the bed, sitting at the top so your backs are leaned up against his couch, you ask, “why did you invite me over, anyways?” 

he looks at you inquisitively, an eyebrow raised as if he didn’t understand your question. you rephrase, “you said you don’t hook up with people from the bar, i’m wondering why you said yes to me.” 

he faces forward, thinking about it for a moment before he answers. “if i’m being honest, it was circumstantial. you texted me this morning, and i was in the mood to say yes.” 

your jaw drops, “i feel like i should take offense to that.”

he shrugs, “if you want to, go ahead. i don’t hook up with people from the bar because all it does is create drama, and my hands are full enough as it is. i haven’t seen you there before, and i have a feeling i won’t see you there again, and somehow your number ended up in my possession, so… here you are.”

you blink up at him, you don’t think you’ve ever spoken to anyone so blunt, so careless as him– no, it’s not that he doesn’t care, it’s that his priorities are elsewhere. women and relationships are not at the forefront of his mind, it’s his siblings– his family. the ache in your chest gets heavier. 

“your silence is freaking me out,” he interrupts your thoughts, “don’t think i just invited you over here to fuck you, i don’t care about that. it was really your persistence, and not the dimwitted kind of persistence that fawns over me and how i present myself– sorry if that sounds cocky.”

your smile grows as he speaks, but he shows no signs of stopping, “this sounds corny, but i have a lot of shit in my life, and for some reason i feel like you might… understand some of it, i guess. there’s a look on your face that tells me you aren’t just how you present yourself.”

you tilt your head, curious about his analysis of you, “what does how i present myself tell you about me?” 

“rich girl,” he says, adjusting himself so he’s facing you, his arm laid over the couch behind you both, “pretty, pretentious rich girl like every other girl at that bar who’s never had to work a day in her life. daddy’s money is my guess.” 

you can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face. “you’re not entirely wrong.” 

you can’t read his expression, his eyes are pointed in a way that makes you think he can see through you. “but that can’t be all there is, you might walk around with your tiny purse and matching outfit and perfect hair, there has to be something else. something wrong.”

you cock your head to the side, “you think there’s something wrong with me?”

he smacks his lips, “poor verbiage. not something wrong, but you aren’t like the others who fling themselves over the bar in hopes that i’ll look in their direction, then curse me out when i don’t– i could definitely see you throwing a fit if something doesn’t go your way, which is half the reason i initially shut you down, by the way– but i have a hard time believing that your life has been all flowers and rainbows.” 

“ah,” you nod in understanding, “i get what you mean. so you invited me over to unpack all of my trauma and confirm that your theory is true?” 

seonghwa smiles from ear to ear, head rocking forward with a hearty laugh, you can’t stop yourself from laughing along with him. you continue, “i mean, no one’s life is all flowers and rainbows, everyone has their own shit they’ve had to work through. how can you tell all of that about me from meeting me one time?” 

“i work with the public,” he says as if it's self explanatory, “i meet a lot of people, especially being a bartender, i hear a lot of shit, and i’ve learned what shit looks like on different people. i remember you from the music festival, too– you were with that brown haired boy and you looked fucking miserable despite smiling and giggling with him like a teenager.” 

that takes you by surprise, your smile fades quick and your eyes widen under his gaze, but he holds it. “you were pretending to be happy, for your sake or his, i’m not sure.”

you gulp. “a little bit of both, probably,” you shift uncomfortably despite being on a literal mattress, feeling more seen than you were comfortable with. it seemed like he had a superpower, or maybe a curse, being able to read people so well– to see deeper than what others want you to see. 

“so, to answer your question,” he rests his head against his hand that was propped up by the couch, “the idea of you understanding me and my life is what intrigued me, and a fateful series of events caused me to say yes to seeing you again.” 

you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding, seonghwa may be twenty six but you think this has to be his eighth or ninth life on this earth just from his wisdom. you’ve never had anyone read you so fast, so clearly– be so blunt and honest without being hurtful. 

“you could’ve just said you thought i was really pretty, you know,” you joke, and he laughs again, then pats around the bed in search of something.

“there’s that pretentious rich girl coming through,” he jokes back, his voice light and airy, but that edge returns as he pats the mattress down a little harder, “fuck, i can’t find the remote.” 

“i don’t mind just talking,” you reach out to put a hand over his, and he physically relaxes, shoulders drooping, looking at you through black strands of hair that have fallen over his face. it made the shadows of his face deepen, the color of his eyes look somehow darker, he looked younger– different. 

“i’m used to background noise,” he shakes his head, then slips his hand out from under you to run it through his hair. “the quiet is so… quiet.” 

“is quiet okay?” you tilt your head, bringing your hand back into your lap. always having to entertain, feed and bathe two little kids on top of working three jobs was sure to be exhausting, you wondered how much quiet he actually got to experience. 

he nods, “yeah, quiet’s more than okay.” you couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto your face, how soft he looked in that moment with his hair half dried, eyes a little more hooded than they were before. you wonder how often he has people over his apartment, if he ever gets the chance to just talk, or let his frustrations out.

in that moment, you felt like you could understand him, at least a little more than before— he wore a hard exterior, made himself out to be a tough shell to crack, but it was in protection, preservation for what matters to him most. it made you look inward. you wished you looked at your family differently, you wished you thought of your siblings with more care, you wished at least a part of you sought to protect them at all times, like seonghwa did his own. 

they’re the only other two people in the world that have gone through everything you have, the only two people that could understand that part of you. they didn’t need to understand you fully, not when it came to your relationship problems, or why your room needed to be clean at all times, but what’s at your core? all your pain, all your grief, your loss, the very things that make you who you are? they understood that easily, when no one else could. 

instead of being jealous of vivi, for how young she was when your father passed, you wish you protected her childhood a little more. preserved her innocence, her naïvety, you wished you ushered her toward welcoming another father figure in her life instead of keeping her away. it’s a privilege, a strength, not everyone gets a second one, not everyone gets a first. ace had always been better at seeing the bigger picture than you.

you lay down on the mattress, sinking under the blankets, letting your head rest on the yellow pillowcase. “tell me more about your siblings.” 

seonghwa looks down at you, eyes full, heavy, shaped like the moon— he didn’t hesitate in telling you everything about them. their favorite colors, their favorite subjects in school, little stories about them growing up. his entire face lit up when he said their names, he told you funny stories about hectic mornings getting ready for school, a scary one about the one time his grandma forgot to pick them up from the bus stop. it was heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time, especially when you realized how little he spoke of his mother. eventually he moved down on the mattress, laying beside you on his back, only his head turned toward you in conversation, so comfortable on the topic he got physically comfortable, too.

“can i ask you a personal question?” you asked, both hands under your cheek, body turned on its side. it was cozy between you two, laying here, talking like this. sharing personal stories with someone you’d just met was never your cup of tea, but with seonghwa, you haven’t talked about anything other than personal topics.

“only if i get to ask you one in return,” he replies, and you shoot him a lazy smile— you could’ve bet money on that answer. 

“deal, but you don’t have to answer. why do you have them during the week, and your mom on the weekends?” 

he sighs, turning his head straight, looking up at his ceiling. the lights in his apartment were dim, cascading a faint yellow over his skin, over his living room. he didn’t seem hesitant to answer, instead choosing his words carefully. “it’s not court ordered, it’s our own kind of system, i guess.” 

“i was twenty when she had nari, she was thirty six. i was twenty two when she had jun, and she was thirty eight. after she had jun, their dad fled, just like mine did right after she had me.” 

you took a breath, heat rushing to your face. you knew it’d be personal, maybe hard to talk about, you didn’t expect him to share it so openly, without hesitation. 

“she was sixteen when she had me, so my entire upbringing was a little fucked up— i was like her friend growing up more than i was her son, my grandma raised me for the better half of my life. she was a wreck after he fled, we couldn’t reach him, couldn’t find him, she couldn’t believe it had happened again. she fell into a pretty deep depression, especially postpartum, and i didn’t trust her with the kids, nor did my grandma,” he used his hands as he spoke, but he didn’t look at you. he kept his face upward, staring at the ceiling, but he kept going. 

“my grandma and i took shifts, she watched them while i was at school, at work, then i came home and took over— that’s kinda the system we still have to this day. when i moved out and brought them here, my mom actually started to get better. she’s medicated now, more stable, but she’s not really the same, and i’m not sure she ever will be… so they ended up being my responsibility. i think they might always be,” he finally looked over to you, he didn’t look uncomfortable. he didn’t look sad or angry, but instead content, like everything that happened in his life was for a purpose. “i trust her enough now to have them on the weekends, and she’s never fought me on the ordeal. i couldn’t imagine my life any differently, it’s hard, but i wouldn’t want it any other way.” 

you didn’t realize there were tears in your eyes, let alone falling down your face until seonghwa hopped up on one elbow, his other arm swinging over to wipe a tear off of your cheek. “don’t cry for me.” 

“i’m sorry, i can’t help it,” you sniff, hands coming up to rub beneath your eyes. “just not what i expected.” 

“yeah?” he teased, “did you think i was just some hot bartender who invited you over to fuck your brains out? instead i’m sitting here talking about my sob story of a life?” 

you laughed through the tears, “kinda.” you both fell into laughter, but he stayed propped up on one elbow. “i’m happy that i asked, and thank you for sharing that with me. you’re incredible, i wouldn’t be able to handle half of what you do.” 

“i’m sure you do a fine job for your hot brother and annoying sister,” his voice was still light and teasing, his hand coming back to brush a hair out of your face. 

“ace has all of the strength, he’s the one who’s always looked out for me and vivi. i’m the coward,” you admit, shaking your head. 

“it’s my turn,” he says, and you don’t give him an answer. instead, you hold your breath, a small part of you was nervous for what he’d ask. “if you could go back in time and change anything, what would you change?” 

without missing a beat, you said, “i’d stop my dad from leaving the house the morning he passed.” 

“i knew it,” seonghwa said excitedly from beside you as if he had cracked the code, “i wasn’t expecting you to also be fatherless, but i knew there was something.” 

you couldn’t stop the snort before it happened, a fit of giggles taking over you so hard you fully turned over on the mattress. “fatherless—” you said through a laugh, “—is terrible!”

“well, am i wrong?” he was laughing too, small chuckles that he couldn’t contain, either. 

“no,” you turn back over, shaking your head, breaths of giggles still pushing through your words. “i do have a step dad, but i don’t like him.” 

“why not?” seonghwa asks, and instead of being propped up on one elbow, he shifts so he’s lying on his arm, his palm holding his head up, still on his side. 

you sigh, “he wants to be my dad. he’s been with my mom since i was thirteen-ish, my dad died when i was twelve. i guess i got it in my head when i was little that he was trying to replace him, and i haven’t gotten myself out of it.” 

seonghwa makes a face, one that doesn’t look pleased with your answer. “you realize how fucking stupid that sounds, right?” 

“you don’t know him,” you bark in defense, “he drives me insane. he always has something to say— about what i do, who i date, where i go, what i wear, what i’m eating? it’s ridiculous.” 

“sounds like he’s trying to be a father,” he deadpans, but his tone wasn’t malicious. “isn’t that what he signed up for? when he married a widow of three kids?” 

“i never wanted another father,” your voice was quieter now. you’ve heard all these words before, but they sounded different coming from him, from someone who doesn’t have half of what you do. 

“but you’re lucky to have another father figure, and it sounds like he’s still trying to be one after almost ten years of you pushing him away. take it from someone who’s dad never gave a fuck about him, if he wants to be in your life, you should let him,” he says, his voice harsh, but you can hear the truth in his tone. 

it's different from when your mom says it, different from when vivi or ace says it, too. taking seonghwa’s situation into account, he’s had it harder than you have— his father left, abandoned him and now he’s trying to be a father figure to kids that aren’t his own, without having had that parental figure in his life. with no one to learn from, and with much less resources than you have at hand. his advice holds heavier weight. 

“be grateful for what you do have,” he adds, his voice softer now, likely from reading your expression which you don’t doubt has gone completely sour. “your mom, your siblings, your stepdad, the privilege you have to live your rich pretentious girl life. don’t take anything for granted, trust me.” 

“i don’t know how to stop,” your voice was near a whisper now, “hating him— being this way, pushing him out, it’s all i’ve ever done, all i've ever known.” 

“what do you mean, you don’t know how to stop?” he lifts an eyebrow, “that’s an excuse. what do you do when you argue with your friends, and then you make up? you go back to normal, like nothing happened.” 

the thought of going back to normal with matt— normal is this, the fighting, the yelling, the insults, the wedge you stuck into your relationship almost ten years ago. you think about the night you asked him about whiskey, when you were excited to show off your skills to mingyu. how excited he was to show you his collection, to teach you all of his knowledge on whiskey, he probably thought that was a bonding moment for the two of you. did you even thank him for it? have you ever thanked him for anything, once in your life?

“if ace is the strong one and you’re the coward, then lean on him, let him be your strength.” he moves another piece of hair out of your face, trailing the back of his knuckles against your cheek. “sorry if i’m overstepping, i wasn’t planning on giving you a therapy session tonight. i couldn’t help it.” 

“no,” you shake your head, then bring your hand up to grab onto his, the one that was just against your face, holding it there. “you didn’t overstep, your advice— your perspective on it, all of it, i appreciate it a lot. thank you.” 

he smiles, it was tight lipped, but it was genuine. “i charge one hundred an hour for my sessions, by the way.” 

you let go of his hand, throwing it towards his chest with a laugh. “way to ruin the fucking moment, hwa.” 

“hey, i wouldn’t get anywhere in life if i handed out freebies to the rich, would i?” 

“and when you say i have daddy’s money, did it occur to you that it was dead daddy’s money all along?” 

“don’t matter to me as long as the bills are blue, baby.” 

the two of you exploded into laughter again, it was comforting sharing your dark humor with him, even more comforting that he shot it right back at you. you’d made plenty of dark jokes in your life which usually met with weird stares or awkward chuckles— but with him, the flow was different, it was raw and real. if you let yourself think about it for too long, it might even scare you how easy it felt with him. 

to know barely anything about one another and immediately jump into heavy conversation, to talk about such deep, dark things… that isn’t a connection you make easily. maybe seonghwa really did see something in you on wednesday, and if it was a fateful series of events that brought you to his bed today, maybe you should start praying more often so the gods would share more of their luck with you. 

you lay there for a minute longer after your laughing had subsided, remembering that the two of you were in an empty apartment, on a bed, and this is what the two of you had decided to do with your friday night. trauma and therapy. you supposed there wasn’t a proper time to get horny from the moment you walked in the door. 

you let out a huff of amusement through your nose at the thought and seonghwa turns his head to you, you missed when he moved to lay on his back again. “what’s funny?” he asks, a smile still playing on his lips— there was humor in the air, if you weren’t careful you’d both catch the giggles again. 

“you know the deepest shit about me and you haven’t even kissed me yet,” you turned your head to face him, your grin still stretched from ear to ear. 

“wanna know what else is funny?” he asks, and you nod. “you know the deepest shit about me, and you don’t even know my last name.” 

you think about it for a second, you don’t know his last name— but you can’t claim defeat so easily. “do you even know my first name?” 

he smacks his lips, looking at you as if you were insane. “do you think i’m a fucking monster?” you raised your eyebrows, unimpressed, because you never told him. “it was on the receipt from the bar, you paid with your card.” 

“you paid attention?” you ask, surprised. 

he smirks, then says your full name, and then starts reciting your entire credit card number from memory. 

you gasp, shooting up from your spot on the bed, sitting straight up. “seonghwa! that has to be illegal or something, how do you remember that?” 

he sits up too, shrugging, his demeanor turning cocky, “i have a good memory. what’s my last name, baby?” 

with that one question, with that name, the energy of the room shifted. you stay silent, keeping your lips pursed— you didn’t want him to know he was right. his smirk grows, head tilting to the side, his arms stretching behind him. you watch the muscles in his abdomen flex and curve, how the muscles in his shoulders became more defined with the movement. 

“come on, you wanna kiss me, don’t you?” his tone was taunting, inflection dipping and rising just to egg you on further, “work for it.” 

your eyes flickered to his mouth as he spoke, those devastatingly pink lips— “is this going to be another tease about making me work for something, for once in my life?” 

his smile grows, “you know me so well.” he uses his arms stretched behind him to haul himself to the top of the bed again, his back hitting the end of the couch as a makeshift headboard, then looks over to you, head tilted in thought. “i’m surprised you’re not running for the hills.” 

“why would i be?” your eyebrows furrow, expression clearly confused. “thought you scared me off?” 

he shrugs, as if to say maybe a little. you shake your head with a reassuring smile, “it takes more than a sad story to freak me out, seonghwa.” 

his head dips back, body shimmying down so he could rest it on the cushions of the couch, jughular on full display to you. you nearly lick your lips. he thinks out loud, “i can’t tell you the last time i had someone here.” 

your eyes widen— surprised at the realization he isn’t hooking up with people weekly, even more surprised at the sheer honesty. you crawl up next to him, wanting to touch him in some way, scared to make the first move. 

“is it still okay that i am?” you wonder, reality looming above you again, it wasn’t just you that had the option to run for the hills. as much as he shared with you, you shared with him, as shallow as your issues seemed compared to his own. you shared a similar darkness, but his reality was still much different than yours. 

he lifts his head back up, face inches from yours and you hadn’t realized how close you’d gotten. his features are so sharp, it makes the simplest gaze in your direction feel intense. you don’t shrink under his eyes, instead you stare back with a question in your own, awaiting his answer— patiently. 

“if you left right now, i’d be more disappointed than i’m willing to admit.” 

you smile, eyes drifting down to his lips again, then back up to his eyes. you wanted to feel his lips on yours, you wanted him, whatever he’d give you, you’d take greedily. your voice was quieter now, huskier, a blanket of lust making it sound velvety when you replied, “i’m not going anywhere.” 

he leans in, a faint ghost of a smirk on his lips, his entire attitude changing. “figured out my last name yet?” 

“if i say no?” you reply, playing into the game he had started with you, holding his gaze with his mouth centimeters from yours. you could feel his breath hot on your lips, god you wanted to close the distance, you needed it after all you’d just shared with each other. 

“i’ll have you spelling it out for me before i’m done with you,” you might’ve moaned at his words if he didn’t take your lips with his own after he said it. 

sweet yet heavy, seonghwa kissed you like he’d been waiting hours to do it. he had you on flat on your back with no time to waste, your head hitting the yellow pillowcase once more, the pink blanket you had covered yourself with still between your bodies. you arched up into him, hands immediately roaming his skin, feeling every dip and curve of muscle on his abdomen, his chest, his shoulders. you were panting into the kiss before you knew it, legs trapped beneath the blanket, beneath the weight of his body, you were more than eager. 

his mouth moved to your jaw, placing hot, wet kisses along the skin before his tongue trailed along the bone from your chin to your ear. you let out a noise you knew you’d be embarrassed about later, abdomen clenching as your hands fled for his hair– it all happened so fast, your brain was fogged over before you knew it, a cloud of sheer lust and an adoration for him sweeping you under. 

he ripped the blanket from between you with a grunt of frustration, throwing it to the side, likely onto the hardwood floor beside the mattress. his hands finally touched you and you all but melted into him, whimpers and mewls leaving your throat as his fingers danced over the space between your top and pants, body reacting far too much when you weren’t doing anything yet. 

“here i thought i was touch starved,” he teased, lips right under your ear, he had just finished harshly sucking a spot into your skin. “listen to you, making all those pretty noises for me.” 

“shut up,” you say through a breath, your eyes closed, head digging into the pillow beneath you. your legs hooked over his back, desperate for friction, for anything. “just touch me.”

“is that any way to ask for what you want?” he pulls back, arms holding him up, he looked so good above you. with that question, you knew all too well what game seonghwa liked to play, what made him tick. luckily for the both of you, you were into it too. he smirks, “as much as i love how desperate you are for me, you didn’t even say please.” 

you whine, but quickly reel it in– you know this game, you’ve played this game before. “i’m sorry,” you quickly gushed out, “please touch me, seonghwa.” 

“seonghwa, what?” his tongue peeks out of his lips, his smirk turning devilish. you could feel your panties dampen at the action. “what’s my last name, baby?” 

you take a deep breath, words coming out like a moan, “i don’t know.” 

he chuckles, it sounded saccharine. his head dipped down again, taking your lips between his, letting the weight of his hips crash into you. you moaned at the contact, hips immediately hooking around his, your core grinding up into him. 

you weren’t expecting him to moan too. a fire set ablaze from your head all the way down to your toes, every inch of your skin burning. so mindless, guttural, like he needed release just as much as you did– it pulled you under even deeper. 

“let me taste you,” you mumbled into his lips, and his tongue swiped against your bottom lip, messy and hot and nasty. “please, let me? wanna suck your cock.”

his head fell into the crook of your neck with a groan, stilling himself for a moment before he flipped you both over. sitting with his back against the couch again, he looked down at you through flattened brows, his expression not here nor there. he was just as gone as you were. 

he lifted his hips for you to pull his sweatpants down, just far enough for his cock to spring up, slapping its heavy weight against his stomach. your mouth filled with saliva, you could feel your eyes glaze over– long, veiny, not too thick– an angry red tip with precum smeared around the top half of him… if you opened your mouth, you’d drool. 

“so hot, fuck,” you mumble under your breath, sitting between his legs, then dip your head down to spit the contents of your mouth over his length. you spread it over the length of him, slow strokes with a heavy hand, seonghwa keeled. 

abdomen clenching already, his head dipped forward with a long groan, right from his chest. a smile spreads across your face at how sensitive he was– “you want me to take care of you, baby?” 

he looks up to you with wide eyes before his eyebrows furrow, your words sending him into a whole different headspace. “come on, don’t be shy, tell me what you want.” 

you didn’t know where your words were coming from, you weren’t usually the person doing the dirty talking. as his eyebrows knitted further together and his jaw went slack, you felt an edge, almost a high from how your words made him react– this was new, but you loved the power it gave you. it was too easy to switch roles with him.

you squeezed the base of him, “words, hwa. speak.” 

“fuck,” he moaned under his breath, “want your mouth on me, please, make me cum.”

“there you go baby,” you smiled, and your hand began stroking him again. “that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he only moans in response as your head dips down, licking his tip once, twice, three times before taking him into your mouth fully. 

his hand flies to your hair, gripping it right at the root, and you couldn’t stop the moan from leaving your lips. he kept you there, at the base of him, with your nose touching the patch of hair on his skin, his limbs locking up– you wondered if he was trying not to cum. 

he definitely needed this more than you did. 

when he let your hair go, you popped off of him with a quick intake of air, catching your breath for just a second before taking him in your mouth again. you kept your hand at the base of him while you worked his tip, tongue swirling along the underside, lips sucking harshly around the width of him. he was mewling, small tuts of air leaving his lips accompanied by other noises of pleasure, all which made you want to please him further. 

you finally worked into a rhythm, hands moving at the same pace as your mouth, twisting and sucking, the only noises audible were the wet squelches of your mouth and the moans he couldn’t stop feeding you. 

“fuck– ngh, gonna cum, wait,” but you didn’t listen, no, he needed this. if he was going to fuck you the way you wanted him to, he needed this first. your hand gripped him harder, mouth working him faster until he was spilling down your throat, releasing a long, languid groan that you were sure had you soaked through your pants.

his head fell back again as you popped off of his length, after swallowing every drop of him and licking him clean. he let out a long exhale, “that was borderline demonic.” 

you let a noise of amusement slip past your lips, “seemed like you needed it.” 

“more than you know,” he replied, then picked his head back up, looking you up and down. “you’re still wearing clothes?”

“someone forgot to take them off,” you tease, crawling onto his lap.

you attach your lips to his again and he takes them greedily, quick to slip his tongue between your lips, probably tasting himself on your own. he breaks the kiss, but your eyes stay shut, his voice is deep and husky again as he says, “i’m supposed to putting you in your place, ruin that pretty little display you put on for me.”

you remember what he said earlier– you look put together. you smirk, “we still have all night,” back arching into him, your arms going around his neck. he tucks his legs beneath him and flips you over, putting your heads at the foot of the bed, your legs hung over his thighs as he bends down to keep his lips attached to yours. 

his hands travel up your waist, slipping beneath your top, hands coming up to cup your chest over your bra. you release a sigh of contentment into his mouth as his lips move to your jaw again, breaking away as his fingers come down to the hem of your top to pull it over your head. your top meets the pink blanket on the floor somewhere as seonghwa’s eyes widen at the black lace adorning your chest, his hands coming up to grab, pinch, squeeze. 

you whimper, hips bucking up into his own, silently begging him for more. “i love this,” he comments, tugging on one of your straps, and you gasp as it snaps back against your shoulder. “almost wanna leave it on.” 

“get the full picture first,” you whisper, and he’s quick to understand– leaning back so he can tug your pants down your legs, groaning when he’s met with a matching thong. his jaw goes slack again as his hands run up your thighs and you push them apart, back arching up involuntarily. 

“please,” you beg, barely above a whisper, laid out almost completely bare for him. he looks up to you and his eyes look impossibly darker, onyx eyes reflecting nothing, you were both far past gone. 

he slips his middle finger beneath the lace and pulls the fabric to the side, then lets out a whistle when he sees just how wet you were for him. “you’re soaked, baby, want me that bad?” 

“you shouldn’t be talking, based on how fast you just came down my throat,” you bit back, hips twitching as you felt the cool air of his apartment breeze over your center. 

“watch it,” he warns, “don’t forget i choose whether or not you cum.” 

you smirk because the threat feels empty with the way his eyes haven’t left your core, how his face is growing closer, you were sure he didn’t even realize he was moving. enjoying the fight for power, you push him a little, “if you can make me cum.”

his eyes flash up to you, that darkness laid within them showed a whole different purpose. he raised his eyebrows, “if i can make you?” 

you nod, smirk still wide across your cheeks, and the smile that grew on his face was wicked. he laid flat on his stomach immediately, not bothering to take your panties off before his tongue was diving straight into your center. you choked out a moan, hips grinding into his mouth, grateful  yet still begging for more. 

“yes, yes,” the word was a chant on your tongue as he licked up and down your folds, lips sucking around your clit, tongue massaging circles into the nerves. his mouth followed your hips as your hands dug into his roots, hips twitching and bucking into his face, back arching off of the mattress. 

oh, there was no discussion about whether or not seonghwa could make you cum, it was about when. with how fast you made him cum, he wasn’t too far behind you in time, tongue making easy work of your core. you felt the heat build, the muscles in your abdomen tighten, clenching as you could feel your orgasm growing. 

seonghwa ate you as if he hadn’t tasted pussy in years. it was messy yet precise, his tongue made a rhythm that was perfect for you– your moans grew higher in pitch as you let the feeling in your core build, build, build– 

at the peak of your orgasm, when you just began to feel euphoria wash over you he pulls away, ripping the high away from you, leaving you empty, untouched. you shrieked, gasps leaving your lips as your hand flies to your center, “no! please, no, no no.” 

he caught your wrist, letting it ride through you, the utter incomplete feeling of your orgasm being ruined. he still wore that same wicked smile, “if i can make you cum, right?”

you stumbled over your words, stuttering as he smiled down at you, “that– i- why did you– no one’s ever–”

“pretty rich girl, always gets what she wants,” he teases in a sing-song tone, and the words begin to feel cold. it makes your head even fuzzier, the clarity and shift in power you felt when you made seonghwa cum in your mouth was gone. his index finger trails up and down your folds and you twitch, gasps leaving your lips as remnants of an orgasm you didn’t get to fully feel rack through your body. 

back into submission, where you were comfortable being, where you enjoyed being– that’s where seonghwa brought you to. you wondered if he liked you or hated you until his index finger slipped inside you, curling upward, sliding across that spot that had you keeling again. 

“fuck,” you cried as he began to pump his fingers, your hands coming up to squeeze your chest, pinching your nipples over your bra. you missed the way he took a quick intake of air at the sight, you were a vision to him, so beautiful and so eager for him, he could bring you to orgasm over and over all night. 

he added another finger, continuously curling them against that one spot, hooking them there and pumping them into you. your neck craned forward to look at him and he could see it all over your face, that you were close, that you were hiding it from him– or trying to, so he wouldn’t take this one away. 

as you were about to reach your peak, he slipped them out of you, and you let out a prolonged whine of frustration. seonghwa couldn’t help his smile, even after all this time he still had it. 

“seonghwa please let me cum,” you begged as he slipped your panties down your legs, but he ignored you. he reached behind you, unclasping your bra with one hand, throwing the matching set wherever the rest of your clothes were. you were incessant, your voice strained, weak as you begged further, “please, i need it, i’ll be good. please.”

“i told you i’d ruin you, baby,” he barely looked at you as he slipped off his sweatpants, grabbing the condom he stored in the pocket earlier. he ripped it open with his perfect teeth, slipping it over his hard length with ease, “you ready for the other thing i told you?” 

your face was red, splotchy, your eyes glassy and not all the way there, but your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. his heart warmed at the sight.

“park,” was all he said, and you swore you were trying to make sense of his words, too overstimulated without any stimulation. he slipped inside you, met with no resistance as you both moaned while he pushed himself all the way to the hilt, the stretch was tantalizing– the size of him was perfect. 

he stayed there for a moment, for you or for himself you didn’t know, but it took him a minute to look back at you again. when he did, he almost came from the sight of you, but he needed to find his resolve– he took your chin in his hand, “my last name. spell it.” 

“what?” you questioned, you were too cloudy for this– he was balls deep inside you, and he wanted you to spell? 

“my last name is park, spell it.” he used the same tone on you as you used when you told him to speak– it made you dizzy. he pulled out all the way, only the very tip of him poking at your entrance, and naturally you obeyed. 

“P.”

your voice was weak as he pushed all the way in, softly this time, his cock curving perfectly upward. 

“A.” 

you basically whined the letter as he thrusted into you a little harder, thank god it was only four letters. 

“R.” 

your head flew back into the mattress, eyes screwed tight as reality set in that his cock might be anatomically perfect. 

“K!” 

you screamed it, you couldn’t help it, the strength behind his thrust had you seeing stars. 

“goob job, smart girl,” he gushed as he worked himself into a rhythm, letting his hands come forward to cradle your cheeks, rubbing the pads of his thumbs over your skin. you released babbles of utter nonsense as he picked up his pace, pistoling his hips into you. 

“‘m not gonna last,” he huffed, eyes falling shut above you, and tears filled your waterline. you needed to cum. 

you reached a hand down to your center carefully, and to your surprise, he let you– you worked quick circles over your clit, your breath getting caught in your throat, his cock hitting that spot inside you over and over. 

“yes, gonna cum,” you moaned out, thighs spreading impossibly wider, fingers moving quicker on your clit. it didn’t take long before you felt on the brink of your orgasm, the tears at your waterline spilling over your cheeks. 

“cum with me,” he breathed, dipping down to attach your lips again, all teeth and spit. the reprieve you felt as your orgasm crash over you was blinding, and seonghwa wasn’t far behind, hips stilling inside you just as you started to ride it out. he pumped you both through it slowly, with nothing but heavy breaths in the air and your skin pressed against his. 

you laid in silence for a few minutes, breathing into each other’s skin, feeling the rise and fall of each other’s chests as seonghwa laid on top of you. you finally broke the silence, “do not ever do that to me again.” 

he let out a deep chuckle, exhaustion clear in his voice, “don’t taunt me and i won’t have to.” 

he finally rolled off of you, keeping you close to his side, you cuddled up against his hot skin as the cool air of his apartment danced over the both of you. “i haven’t had sex in a long time, i know i didn’t last long. i owe you.”

“you don’t owe me shit,” you said groggily, your eyes closed with your cheek pressed to his chest. “if you wanna fuck again i’m game, but never apologize for that. i enjoyed myself thoroughly.”

he got up much to your dismay, tying off the condom and throwing it in the trash in his kitchen, returning with a water bottle that he opened before handing it to you. “at least let me make you cum properly.”

“how can i say no to that?” you give him a toothy grin, then take a sip from the water bottle. “i know you’re tired, though, we can literally just go to sleep, hwa.” “we’ll go to sleep after,” he bends down on the mattress, planting a kiss on your knee, all exhaustion that was in his voice moments ago was gone. “i want to make the most out of tonight. don’t think we aren’t talking again before bed, either. ooh, maybe we can order takeout from that twenty four hour spot by the campus, too?”

8fd masterlist | main masterlist

tags :p @chimivx @emmxxsworld @alisonyus @livixcore @skzswife @dawn-iscozy @yusalterego @velvetring00 @minvxq @moonlightgrleric @unicornwhisperer666

[mayrose713]

Beautifully Cruel World-Chapter 18

Series Masterlist | Previous | Next

ABO Non-Idol Stray Kids Universe Poly OT8 x Reader 18+ MDNI

Warnings in the Series Masterlist as well as any other information needed

I have a question for you guys. How do you guys read Innie? Because I saw someone on TikTok read it as I.N-ie where I've always read it as in-ie, like Jeonginnie. I'm just curious as to how people read it.

Chapter 18

“Are you sure you guys don’t need any help?” Y/n asks as she watches Minho and Felix move around the kitchen making dinner. 

“We’ve got it, baby.” Felix smiles at her before booping her nose causing her to scrunch it up. “Go relax a little.” 

The omega sighs before turning to see where everyone else is. She knows Jisung and Jeongin are out walking in the neighborhood. She then spots Changbin standing outside the back door and walks out to join him. 

“Hey pretty girl.” He smiles looking up from his phone.

“Is that your omega?” A female voice asks from his call.

“Oh, sorry Binnie.” Y/n frowns a little for interrupting his phone call. “I didn’t realize you were talking to someone.” 

“It’s okay baby, it’s just my sister.” He holds his hand out for her to join him. “She’s been wanting to meet you anyways.” 

She takes his hand and he brings her close to his side, wrapping an arm around her waist as she looks at the phone seeing his sister on a video call.

“Hi Y/n, it’s so good to finally meet you.” The older girl beams on the phone. “I’m Jaehee.”

“Hi.” Y/n waves shyly. “I didn’t know Changbin had an older sister.”

“That's just like him, not to mention me.” Jaehee rolls her eyes. “He’s told us a lot about you though. You’re even cuter than he described. Not sure how you ended up with someone like my brother though.” 

“Yah!!” Changbin yells, causing the girl to lean away from him a little at his loud voice. 

“Don’t make the poor girl deaf, Changbinnie.” Jaehee scolds. “God you’re so loud.”

“If I had known you were just going to make fun of me the whole time I wouldn’t have answered your call.” He grumbles causing his sister to laugh.

“I’ll be nice.” Jaehee smiles then looks at the omega through the camera. “So Y/n, how are you liking Jeju Island? Changbin said it’s your first time being there. Do you like our beach house?”

“It’s very beautiful here. And the house is amazing.” Y/n smiles. “I can understand why Jisung and Felix wanted to come here so badly.”

“What have you guys been up to so far?”

“All together we’ve only done a beach day. Though I think we’re all going to the drive-in theatre tonight since Felix and Minho are making an early dinner.” She looks at her mate for confirmation who nods yes. “And they’ve each paired up and have been taking me on dates as proper courting.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet.” The older female gushes. “What did my brother do for his date?”

“We haven't gone yet. He and Ji are my last date tomorrow.”

“Changbin, you better treat this girl right on your guys date tomorrow.” She scolds. “I expect princess treatment, you hear me?”

“Trust me, all she knows at this point is princess treatment.” The alpha defends making the girl next to him blush as he pulls her closer to him and nuzzles her cheek.

“Y/n, if he ever does anything to upset you, call me okay?”

“Will do, Jaehee.”

“So what did the others do for your dates?” Jaehee places her chin in her hand. 

“Chan and Seungmin took me to some shops to get a swimsuit and we got desserts.” Y/n smiles as she thinks about her dates. “Felix and Jeongin took me to a gaming cafe and Minho and Hyunjin took me to the farmers market and craft fair.”

“Ooh Changbinnie, you’ve got some competition.” 

“It isn’t about which pair takes her on a better date Jaehee.” Changbin looks annoyed with his sister now. “This trip is about all of us bonding and getting to know our girl better.”

“Alright, alright.” She puts her hands up in surrender. “I’ll stop being a pest and let you guys go. Have fun on the rest of your vacation. And Y/n, we’ll have to figure out sometime when you and Changbin can come over to our parents so we can meet in person.”

“Sounds good.” The omega smiles. “I know we’ll have to figure that out for everyone's families.”

“Tell everyone else I said hi. And we’ll talk again soon.”

“Bye.” Y/n and Changbin say at the same time before hanging up the video call. 

“Sorry about her, pretty girl.” 

“Don’t worry about it, I like her.” Y/n smiles up at him. “I can’t wait to meet her and your parents in person.”

“We’ll definitely have to figure out with everyone when we can finally introduce you to all of our families.” 

“Do you think all of your guy’s family will like me?” The omega scent starts to sour as she starts to get into her head.

“Look at me, pretty girl.” He places a finger under her chin to lift her head up so they are making eye contact. “Our families will love you. They’ll have no reasons not to.”

“You sure?” 

“I’m positive.”

“Dinners ready.” Jeongin pokes his head out from the sliding glass door but then frowns when he sees the alpha and omega. “Jagiya, you okay?”

“She’s good, pup.” Changbin grabs her hand and leads her into the house and ruffles his hair as they walk past. “Let's eat so we can get ready to head out.”

Minho and Felix place the last of the food on the table as they all start taking seats. Jeongin quickly takes one of the seats next to Y/n. He’s been worried about her since she had asked him to help her slip into subspace, hovering around her a little more. 

“So there are two movies playing tonight.” Chan says as everyone starts eating. “One screen will be playing Jurassic World. And the other screen will be playing Five Feet Apart.”

“We have to see Five Feet Apart.” Felix sits up straight, eyes wide with excitement. 

“Isn’t it a sad sappy movie?” Seungmin scrunches his nose. “At least Jurassic World has action.”

“Like always, we’ll put it to a vote.” Changbin eyes the two in warning not to start arguing. “If you want to see Jurassic World, raise your hand.” Changbin raises his hand along with Seungmin, Jeongin and Chan. “And Five Feet Apart.” Felix, Jisung, Hyunjin and Minho raise theirs.

“Y/n, you didn’t vote.” Chan looks at her with a frown. 

“Why do I have to be the one to decide?” She looks at all of them, scared that depending on which one she picks, the four who picked the other movie will be upset and grouchy the whole time. 

“You get to have a choice in this too, babygirl.”

“And now that we have nine people we actually have a better voting system unlike before.” Jeongin places his hand on her thigh. “We would have so many ties with there being an even number of us that we would have to flip a coin to decide most of the time.”

“What if we see both?” She mumbles not looking at any of them. “We’re already planning to take two of the three cars right? So everyone that wants to see Jurassic world goes in one and everyone who wants to see Five Feet Apart goes in the other and everyone is happy.”

“No we’re not.” Minho shakes his head. “We’re supposed to be doing this as a pack, so we all see one movie, not split up to see different ones, it’s not how it works.”

“But I don’t want anyone who was wanting to see the other movie than the one I pick be upset and unhappy the whole time.”

“That won’t happen, pup, I promise.” Seungmin gives her a reassuring smile. “As long as we’re all together we’ll enjoy it.”

“Yeah, the plan is to put all the pillows and blankets in the bed of the trunk and we all get in it to watch the movie and cuddle.” Jisung smiles brightly, already excited for what's to come. 

“So which do you pick, princess?” Hyunjin folds his hands together and rests his chin on them while waiting for her answer.

“Ummm…” She looks at all of them for a moment before taking a deep breath reminding herself that she actually has a say in things now and that no one will be upset with her for what she chooses. “I wanna see Five Feet Apart if that’s okay?”

“Of course it’s okay.” Changbins eyes soften at her. “Five votes for it makes it the winner.”

“Yes.” Felix and Jisung high five each other. 

“Kitten, why don’t you go change into something comfier and grab whatever extra pillows and blankets are in the closest that we can set up in the bed of the truck.” Minho stands up to start cleaning. “We’ll get everything cleaned up so we can head on out as quickly as possible.”

“Okay.” The omega stands and quickly goes to her room to change as she hears the sounds of plates and dishes being handled. 

“Why’d you send her off like that?” Jisung frowns as Minho takes his and Felix’s plates. “I thought what she was wearing was just fine.”

“Because I wanted your guys' opinions on something I had bought at the craft fair.” Minho places the plates in the sink before pulling the collar with the amethyst compass rose pendant out of his pocket showing it to all of them.

“Is that?” Chan moves closer to look at it while everyone sits there gapping at it. 

“The booth was run by a nice alpha and omega couple, everything is handmade.” Minho gives Chan the collar so he can look at it and they can all pass it around. “I just felt that the compass rose was a good symbol for us and the omega said that amethysts is a symbol of faithful loves and a popular choice for those seeking a soulmate. Or something like that.” 

“I think you put more thought into this than you did for my collar.” Felix says as he looks at the pendant. 

“Lixie, you were determined to pick out your own collar, you didn’t give us a choice.” Chan nudges the omega.

“Because I’m picky with what I wear.” Felix pouts, handing the collar to Jisung before placing his hand on his own collar around his neck. “But I do love mine and I think Y/n will love this one.”

“So is this the one we’re gonna collar her with?” Hyunjin admires the pendant. 

“Does everyone agree?” Chan asks and they all nod in excitement.

“I think it’s perfect.” Changbin hands the collar back to Minho.

“Chan, as pack alpha it’s only right that you give it to her.” He hands it back to the oldest male.

“But you were the one who found it.”

“And Felix found his own collar but you were still the one to collar him.” Jeongin speaks up.

“We all agree as pack alpha you should do it, Channie.” Seungmin forces him to fold his fingers around the collar before moving his hand to his pocket. 

“I’ll do it tonight while we’re all in the bed of the truck. That way everyone is there.” Chan nods as he places it safely in his pocket. 

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Felix, Y/n and Jisung move around the bed of the truck situating the pillows and blankets almost making a form of nest for everyone. Chan and Jeongin watch over the three of them as Minho, Changbin, Seungmin and Hyunjin went to the snack bar to get drinks and snacks. The second car is parked right next to the truck, the trunk open, back seats down and also set up with some blankets and pillows in case anyone gets too cold and wants to move inside the vehicle. 

“You guys are just so cute.” Jeongin gawks at them which results in him getting hit in the head with a pillow by Jisung gaining a laugh from the omegas.

Jeongin grunts and his eyes show that he’s about to put the beta in his place but Chan stops the young alpha. “Not in public, Innie.”

“But hyung, he started it.” 

“Don’t give me that tone, pup.” Chan asserts his dominance causing Jeongin to pout a little, making Jisung laugh. “Ji, you have no room to laugh, you did start it, don’t push it.”

“Alright, we’re done.” Felix announces hoping to defuse the situation between the three of them.

“And just in time.” Changbin calls out as he rounds the truck holding popcorn and a drink carrier, Minho, Hyunjin and Seungmin following behind with more drink carriers and popcorn or candy. “We’ve got the food.”

Jeongin gets in the truck and takes the food from them to place around. Felix and Jisung claim a corner of the truck and start cuddling as Minho gets into the bed of the truck and grabs their snacks and drinks, handing it to them. Changbin and Chan help Seungmin and Hyunjin get up into the truck before climbing up themselves.

Chan moves over near the two already cuddling and pulls Y/n along so she can lay against him. Hyunjin follows wanting cuddles from his alpha too. Changbin sits down before manhandling Seungmin into his lap and the beta allows it. And Minho moves over to pull Jeongin to him from where he’s kneeled, still watching the female omega like he’s been doing since their date. 

“She’s okay, pup, relax.” Minho whispers into the youngest alphas hair as he’s pulled to his chest. “I’m proud of you for being observant of her but you’re hovering too much. Has she seemed to be actining any differently or on edge, more than normal?”

“No.” Jeongin shakes his head.

“Exactly. I know we were all worried because of her asking you to scent her into subspace but I genuinely think she was just wanting to experience it after she and Felix talked about it.” Minho reassures him. “You should be proud that she trusts you to do that for her. Be happy, okay.”

“Hey, babygirl, we’ve got something for you.” Chan says pushing on Y/n and Hyunjin a little so he can sit up.

The omega looks at him confused before looking at everyone else who are watching with excitement before turning back to Chan as he pulls something out of his pocket. Her eyes widen as she gasps when she sees the pendant necklace.

“Is that?” She covers her mouth in disbelief.

“We want to collar you if you’ll let us.” Chan smiles at her, his eyes filled with nothing but love. “Even though we all haven’t claimed you yet, we wanted something to show to you that we’ll be yours forever.”

“We know that not all omegas enjoy being collared, and it’s okay if you don’t want to be.” Hyunjin speaks up when she still hasn’t said anything. 

“But we still wanted to give you one just like we did with Felix when he came out to us.” Changbin explains and Y/n looks over at the other omega and he shows off his collar he’s wearing. 

She takes it from Chan to get a closer look. “It’s beautiful.”

“Minho hyung picked it out.” Jisung nudges her leg with his foot and the girl looks over at the second oldest alpha whose ears are burning red. 

“I felt that the compass rose was a good representation of how we came to be.” The alpha watches her lovingly. “We were lost without you, you were lost on your own, and we managed to find each other, as if you were meant to run out of gas at that park because your true north was there or something.”

“Hyung, you’re getting sappy on us.” Seungmins groans, gaining a pinch to the side from Changbin who's still holding the beta in his lap. 

Y/n starts to tear up and she quickly wipes her cheeks. “I love you guys.” She finally admits to all of them, her lip still trembling a little with overwhelming emotions, and her tears just keep coming.

She gets a chorus of “we love you too” as they all sit up to give her a group hug and they tell her not to cry. 

“It’s happy tears.” She tries to laugh a little as they all hold her. When they all eventually pull away, she turns to Chan and gives him the collar. “Can you help me put it on?”

“Of course baby girl.” He kneels behind her and puts it around her neck as she holds her hair out of the way. 

Once it's clasped in place she puts her hand over it and smiles before showing it off, everyone admiring her. They all still can’t believe that the beautiful omega in front of them is theirs.

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@pineapplekitty3-16 @straykidslover2024

[rosedustdreams]

if you do angst, could you do walker and you having a miscommunication (him thinking you rejected his confession or are dating someone else) and dont talk for a bit but then make up?

Only You

Walker’s confession had hit you like a lightning bolt on a clear day. You’d been standing together during a break on set, joking about how much Percy Jackson seemed to mirror him in real life. But then he’d suddenly gone quiet, shuffling nervously before blurting it out.

“I like you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Like… more than a friend.”

You froze. Completely blindsided, your mind raced to catch up with his words. Walker Scobell, the guy who could make you laugh so hard your stomach hurt, liked you? You opened your mouth to respond, but your brain failed to produce anything coherent.

Before you could figure out what to say, a crew member appeared, calling your name and gesturing that you were needed for the next scene.

“I—uh—” you stammered, glancing between Walker and the person waiting for you. “I gotta—”

“Go,” Walker said quickly, stepping back with a strained smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, don’t worry about it.”

You wanted to stay, to explain, but the urgency in the crew member’s voice pulled you away. You didn’t look back as you rushed off, though the weight of Walker’s words clung to you the entire day.

----

The days that followed were agonising. Walker wasn’t just avoiding you—he was practically a ghost. The easy banter you’d shared was gone, replaced with stiff nods and short, polite answers when you tried to talk to him.

You tried to corner him during lunch one day, only for him to grab his food and walk off before you could even sit down. Another time, you found him at craft services, sipping on a bottle of water.

“Walker, can we talk?” you asked, your voice hesitant but hopeful.

“Sorry, can’t,” he mumbled, not even glancing your way. “Busy.”

And just like that, he was gone again, leaving you feeling like the ground had crumbled beneath you.

You didn’t understand. Sure, you hadn’t given him an answer, but it wasn’t because you didn’t like him. You just needed time to process, to figure out how to tell him how much he meant to you.

The breaking point came a few days later when you overheard him talking to Leah in a quiet corner of the set.

“It’s fine,” Walker said, leaning against a chair with his arms crossed. His voice was bitter, a tone you’d never heard from him before. “She’s obviously into someone else. Why else would she just leave after I told her how I felt?”

Leah frowned, clearly trying to console him. “Are you sure? Maybe she was just caught off guard.”

“She didn’t even answer me,” Walker said with a dry laugh. “That’s answer enough, right? And I get it. She’s amazing—way out of my league. I never should’ve said anything.”

Your heart shattered at his words. He thought you didn’t like him back. He thought you’d rejected him.

The next morning, you decided you couldn’t let this go on any longer. You found Walker sitting alone in a quiet corner of the set, scrolling through his phone. He looked up briefly when you walked over but quickly averted his gaze, his expression unreadable.

“Can we talk?” you asked softly, sitting down beside him.

“Not much to say,” he replied, his tone cool. “I get it.”

“Walker.” You reached out and placed your hand on his arm, forcing him to look at you. “You don’t get it. I overheard what you said to Leah.”

His eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of embarrassment crossing his face. “You… you heard that?”

“Yes,” you admitted. “And you’ve got it all wrong.”

He frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I didn’t leave that day because I didn’t like you,” you explained, your voice trembling slightly. “I left because I was shocked. You caught me completely off guard, and then I got pulled away before I could say anything. And after that, I didn’t know how to bring it up again.”

Walker’s brow furrowed as he processed your words. “So… you’re not into someone else?”

You shook your head. “No. I’m not. Walker, I like you too. I’ve liked you for a while now. I just never thought you’d feel the same way.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, as if trying to decide whether or not to believe you. Then his face softened, and the corners of his mouth lifted into the boyish grin you’d missed so much.

“You like me?” he asked, his voice filled with disbelief and cautious hope.

“Yes,” you said, smiling despite the nerves swirling in your chest. “I like you.”

His grin widened, and he let out a soft laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Wow. I… I really thought I’d blown it.”

“You didn’t blow it,” you assured him. “But I swear, if you avoid me like that again, we’re gonna have problems.”

Walker laughed, the sound light and genuine, and it made your chest feel warm. “Deal. No more ghosting, I promise.”

“Good,” you said, nudging him playfully.

“So,” he said, his tone turning shy again. “Does this mean I can officially ask you out?”

“You’d better,” you teased, your smile growing.

“Okay,” he said, leaning closer, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. “Would you like to go out with me?”

“Yes, Walker,” you said, your voice soft but steady. “I’d love to.”

And just like that, the tension of the past few days melted away, replaced with something warm and hopeful. It wasn’t perfect it never is but as Walker smiled at you, you knew it was the start of something amazing.

A/N: love this so much my first kinda angst thanks for the request

Tags: @izzystylinson, @sophand4n4, @kaiwrites092, @shellsarepretty, @cheoriemoawa, @prettiesteyess,  @vintagewntr10, @hecallmebigpurrr420, @killualovbot, @iloveneilperry

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Marriage Problems Chapter 3

Summary: They’ve been married for 19 years, their 20th anniversary coming up soon.  Older, busier, and stuck on the repeat of their daily lives, Y/N and Bucky are struggling.  Their marriage is good, but feeling rocky the last few years as they’ve settled into this stage of their lives.  Can they get their spark back?  Or is it better to do the unthinkable, and move on without each other?

Warnings:  language, forced kiss, eventual smut

Previous chapter Next chapter

Bucky was putting his lunch in his lunch box when a rumble of footsteps came thundering down the stairs and he looked up as Y/N burst into the kitchen looking frazzled.  “Why didn’t you wake me up?” She asked him incredulously.  “Where are the kids?”

“On the bus,” he answered nonchalantly.

“What?” she sputtered.  “H-how…what do you–”

“They got themselves ready, lunches packed, homework done, and I made sure they were out of the house on time,” he said, smirking at her.  He grabbed a plate of food next to him and slid it toward her on the island, accompanying it with a mug of her favorite drink.  “I wanted to let you sleep.  Now sit down and relax.”

Y/N stared at him, the surprise evident in her expression.  She glanced at the plate of food then slowly walked over to the island, pulling out the stool chair and sitting down.  She grabbed the toast and took a bite.  “Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome,” Bucky smiled.  He rounded the island and stood next to her, his fingers pulling her chin to make her look up at him.  “We need to talk about what happened last night,” he said, and her eyes fluttered in sadness.  “But, not right now.  I’m about to leave for work, but I want you to take today to do nothing.”

“Nothing?” Y/N frowned.

“Absolutely nothing,” Bucky nodded.  “Don’t you dare cook or clean, just rot on the couch and get caught up on your shows.  I’ve already got dinner set up for delivery later.  And we’ll have a good, long conversation about everything over ice cream.”

Y/N still looked surprised, but a small, happy smile crept up on her lips.  “Sherbet ice cream?”

Bucky huffed a laugh.  “Whatever my pretty mama wants,” he said.  

***

That night after the kids went to bed they sat on the couch downstairs, a gallon of rainbow sherbet ice cream between them that they took bites from as they talked about everything.  Bucky felt like they had come to a good understanding with each other, and they agreed to actively work towards reigniting their marriage.  

“Well, I have a work party next weekend that you can come to,” Bucky said.  “We’re celebrating that presentation going well and getting that client.”  He hadn’t told her about the bonus yet, wanting to keep it a surprise.  

“Oh you know I’m not a huge fan of work hangouts,” Y/N waved him away.  “As much as I love Steve, it’s just a lot of awkward moments for me being the odd one out on everyone’s work inside jokes and what not.”

“Okay, okay,” Bucky smiled and nodded.  “Then how about the next day?  We’ll go out together, just the two of us.”

Y/N smiled.  “That would be nice.”

“It’s a date,” Bucky smiled back.  

***

That next Friday he found himself in a bar downtown.  He felt too old to be there, just keeping a watchful eye on the younger employees as he nursed his one and only beer for the night.  He and Steve took the time to catch up with each other, since they were both married, family men who didn’t get to hang out as often as they used to or would have liked.  Steve stood from the small table they were at to get himself another drink.  Bucky finished his beer, setting the bottle aside when someone else sat in front of him.

“Hey boss,” Natasha greeted him with a flirtatious smile.

Bucky inwardly groaned, but politely smiled.  “Nat,” he greeted her.  “Hope you’re having fun with the rest of the team.”  He had to tread carefully with her.  Natasha was young, beautiful, and had made it clear a while ago that her conversations with him were her attempt at flirty banter, sliding in sexual innuendos and compliments towards him.  He’d tried ignoring it, not playing into it with her at all, but she was nothing if not persistent and ambitious.  That was what made her a great part of the team.  He just wished she would take the hint.

“You look ridiculously hot, as usual,” Natasha said, maneuvering herself to sit closer to him, leaning forward on the table to show off her cleavage.

“Oh, um, thank you,” Bucky said, trying to lean away from her.  “You look nice.”

“Just nice?” Natasha laughed teasingly.  “Looks like I’ll need to up my game next time.”

Bucky’s lips tightened as he tried to subtly look for Steve to save him.  “Well, I don’t want you to waste your time with me—”

She reached a hand out and slid her fingers across the back of his hand.  “Oh there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than right here, sir,” she purred.  

Bucky pulled his hand away and frowned.  “Nat, I’m not sure how else to say this without it sounding mean, so I’m just going to say it.  I’m married.  Happily married–”

“No you’re not,” Natasha smirked.  “You’re having marriage problems.”  She leaned forward again so she was close to his ear, the alcohol on her breath making him scowl.  “I can help you feel better.”

Bucky pushed away from her.  “Where did you hear I was having marriage problems?” he asked angrily.

“I could just tell,” Natasha shrugged.  “And Peter likes to gossip.”

Bucky rolled his eyes then closed them as he rubbed his face, and she took the opportunity to corner him against the wall, her hand holding the back of his neck and pulling him forward, kissing him right on the mouth.  Bucky froze in shock for just a moment before he pushed her away and stood.  “What the fuck was that?” he yelled.

“Hey, woah, what’s going on?” Steve asked, finally coming back over to the table with a new beer in his hand.

“She just fucking kissed me!” Bucky replied, wiping his mouth.

“Natasha,” Steve groaned, looking at her with deep disappointment.

“What?” she pouted.  “I’m drunk.”

Bucky shook his head incredulously as Steve sighed.  “Okay, it’s time for you to go home,” he said, pulling her up by the arm.  “I’m calling you an Uber.  And we’ll be having a discussion with HR on Monday.”

“What?  No!  I’m not ready to leave!” Natasha whined, pulling against his hold as he directed her toward the front door.  Bucky stood there in shock until Steve came back a few minutes later.  

“She’s gone,” Steve said.  “I’m sorry, Buck.  I knew she was flirtatious with you, I just didn’t think she’d do something like that, even while drunk.”

“Y/N,” Bucky whispered, his eyes wide as he looked at Steve.  “I have to tell her, Steve.”  Steve’s eyes widened with him.  

@cjand10 @sebastians-love @sherwoodforesttales @shanksstrawhat @sagexsenorita @abaker74

[chlobliviate]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62725594

Wolfstar Microfic - Lover

Words: 508

@wolfstarmicrofic

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

Sirius threw himself on James’ bed and groaned. Not an altogether unusual occurrence, but James knew from the lack of words that this was serious.

“Don’t tell me you struck out with McKinnon again?” James said, not looking up from his magazine.

“McKinnon? Don’t be disgusting, Prongs!” Sirius scoffed. “I have no interest in Marlene.”

“Then what’s got you throwing yourself around like a 19th-century maiden on a fainting couch?”

Sirius frowned at him. “I am not— Shut up.”

“So what is it? Detention? Did you tear your leather jacket? Your fags got wet? You know you can do a drying charm, right?” James laughed.

“No, it’s none of that…” Sirius sighed, having no idea how to phrase this and somehow coming out with “I think Remus may have... taken a lover.”

James’ eyes almost popped out of his head, and then he threw his head back and laughed. Sirius covered his face with his hands as James roared for a good few minutes. “You are not beating the 19th-century lady accusations, mate. ‘Taken a lover.’!”

“Come on James, you know what I mean!” He grumbled. “Why else would he not comment on my earring?”

“Wait, you haven’t actually seen him sneaking off or walking in on him in flagrante delicto with some stuffy Ravenclaw? This is all because he hasn’t commented on your earring?” James’ shoulders started shaking again.

“It’s a moon!” Sirius snapped.

“I can see that.”

“I thought it might be a nice little discreet way of… I don’t even know.” Sirius slumped back onto the bed. “Am I being an idiot? Wait, you are absolutely not the person to give perspective on that. Do you think he’d ever… you know, after the thing with Snape? It really felt like something was building before that, and I know it’s been a year, but sometimes I get flashes of that glorious tension, and fuck me, I want him, Prongs!”

“Have you told him?” James asked, already knowing the answer.

“Don’t be ridiculous!”

“Padfoot…” James was interrupting by the door to the dorm opening quietly. Remus looked at them both on James’ bed and raised an eyebrow, then he looked at Sirius for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“Do you have a new earring?” He crossed the room and Sirius’ heart started to pound in his chest. He nodded, and Remus reached out to brush his hair back so he could see it properly. The moon pendant dangled just below his earlobe, and goosebumps rose on Sirius’ arm as Remus’ thumb ghosted over it, and then his earlobe. “I like it. It suits you.” His face broke into a slightly wonky grin as he looked down at Sirius.

Sirius could feel the bed shaking slightly from James’ silent laughter, but couldn’t bring himself to look over his shoulder and glare at him. Not when Remus’ eyes were boring into his own like that.

“Thanks. It reminded me of you.” He said, uncharacteristically quietly.

The blush that rose up Remus’ neck was all the response he needed.

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: More Than Enough

Marshall had been deep in album mode for weeks now, and you understood. You always understood. When he was in that space, nothing else existed—not time, not sleep, not food unless you physically put it in front of him.

But what you hadn’t expected was how his team would start leaning on you.

At first, it was small things—grabbing coffee, handling small errands, answering calls when Marshall was too busy. You didn’t mind helping. But then it became more.

"Hey, can you run out and grab lunch for everyone?"

"Mind handling the studio schedule? Paul’s swamped."

"Can you make sure the deliveries get sorted? We’re behind on inventory."

And it wasn’t just errands—it was the dismissive way they spoke to you, like you were supposed to do these things. Like you were just there to help them.

Like you weren’t his wife.

The first few times, you brushed it off. It wasn’t a big deal, right? Marshall was in his creative zone. You didn’t want to bother him with stupid complaints when he was making something brilliant.

But after a while, it started to weigh on you.

You weren’t just being helpful—you were being used.

And the worst part? Marshall didn’t notice.

He barely even looked at you most days, too caught up in the music, scribbling in notebooks, pacing the room while he worked through lyrics. You were just there, silent and waiting.

So you stopped going.

You didn’t make a big deal out of it—you just found excuses. Told him you had things to do at home, or that you didn’t want to get in the way. And at first, he didn’t seem to notice.

Until today.

Marshall came home earlier than usual, his hoodie slung low over his face, his hands in his pockets. He found you curled up on the couch, watching some random show you weren’t even paying attention to.

"You mad at me?"

You blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

He sat down on the armrest, facing you. "You’re mad," he repeated. "You haven’t been at the studio all week."

You shrugged, looking away. "Just needed a break."

His eyes narrowed. "Bullshit."

You sighed, your fingers tightening around the blanket in your lap. "It’s nothing, Marshall."

"Obviously, it’s something." His voice was sharp now, frustration creeping in. "Talk to me."

You hesitated. "It’s just… your team. They—" You swallowed, feeling stupid for even bringing it up. "They kind of use me for shit."

His brows furrowed. "What?"

"Like, I get it, you’re busy, but they just assume I’ll do things. Errands, scheduling, handling stupid crap they don’t want to deal with. And I didn’t say anything because you were working, and I didn’t want to bother you with—"

Marshall stood up so fast the armrest shook.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

You flinched. "Marshall—"

"Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?" His voice was low and dangerous now, his fists clenching at his sides. "They’ve been using you?"

You bit your lip. "I didn’t want to be a distraction."

His head snapped toward you, eyes flashing. "You think you’re a distraction?"

You looked down. "I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it."

Marshall let out a sharp breath, running a hand over his face before crouching in front of you. He reached for your hands, prying them away from the blanket.

"You’re my wife," he said firmly. "Not their assistant. Not their goddamn secretary. Mine."

Your chest tightened. "I know, but—"

"No." His grip on your hands tightened. "No buts. You don’t hide shit like this from me, you hear me?" His voice softened, but the fire in his eyes didn’t dim. "You don’t just deal with it alone."

You swallowed, guilt creeping in. "I didn’t know how to bring it up."

He exhaled, shaking his head. "Baby, you don’t gotta know how. You just gotta say it."

You nodded slowly, and Marshall stood, pulling you up with him before wrapping his arms around you.

His chin rested on your head, and his voice rumbled against your hair.

"They’re gonna learn real fucking quick who they’re dealing with."

You smiled into his chest, feeling the weight of the past few weeks lift off your shoulders.

Marshall wasn’t just listening now—he was handling it.

[demigodsanswer]

What's the new au???

It's another modern/non-demigod au, with Tattoo Artist! Annabeth, who is also a single mom working hard to coparent her five year-old. The story starts when she meets her friend/mentor's cousin, who's only just moved back the New York City after getting Ph.D. out in California.

Here's a bit of the draft. Not sure if this will ever actually be something I finish though.

~

There were already a few people lined up on the sidewalk when Annabeth stepped through the door. Sundays were walk-in days at Electric Tattoo, but it was first come, first serve. She still had half an hour before she needed to serve anyone though. 

Electric was a basic street shop that boasted artists who could probably work somewhere more impressive, but didn’t have the energy to deal with the Instagram of it all. Annabeth herself had a decent following, and her books were usually full, but she still appreciated the spontaneity of a walk-in. And Sunday’s were good money. Sophia spent the day with her father, and Annabeth spent the day sticking needles in strangers. 

She’d built a pretty robust portfolio in the last few years; she could do just about anything. Geographic tattoos and linework were her favorite though; it was the closest she got to using the architecture degree she finished mostly out of spite in the end. But she’d always like the drafting process, even if she couldn't stand her internships or the industry in the end. 

At least, as a tattoo artist, she got to stab the shitty men she dealt with with needles. 

“I booked your six o’clock spot already,” Thalia said to her before anything else. 

“Good morning,” Annabeth said back. “Who is it?” 

“My cousin. I’d do it, but you know how I feel about doing family,” Thalia said. Annabeth didn’t know why she phrased it like that, but she wasn’t in the mood to tease her about it. “I’ve told you about him, I think? Percy? Lived out in Berkeley?” 

Annabeth shrugged. “Probably, but I don’t remember,” she said as she walked over to their shitty coffee maker -- the machine and the coffee it produced were sub-par, but it would do. 

“You’ll like him,” Thalia promised. 

“Last time you set me up with someone you thought I’d really like, I didn’t fall in love, and I got pregnant,” Annabeth reminded her. 

“I told you to abort the little crotch goblin,” Thalia teased. 

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “That crotch goblin is your goddaughter.” 

“And I love her very much,” Thalia promised. 

Thalia had been her mentor through her tattoo apprenticeship, and then, a fast friend. And for all of her jokes, she was a reliable aunt and baby sitter for Annabeth’s now-five year-old. 

Really, Annabeth needed the distraction of a Sunday walk-in day. Sophia spent Saturdays with her father, slept at his house, and didn’t get dropped off to her again until six thirty Sunday night. It wasn’t even a full forty-eight hours, but Annabeth spent just about every Saturday night missing her, whether she stayed home or went out. 

She wiped down her station, got her ink, tools, and stencils ready. And then she checked her phone again. Nothing from Luke. Not that she was worried. He was a good and responsible father. But she appreciated a photo here and there, an update. 

Annabeth decided to just text him instead: “I have a 6pm, bring her to electric” 

Luke just thumbs up reacted. 

Things between them had never been particularly romantic. A few okay dates, and some decent sex had really been the extent of it. Until Sophia made herself known to Annabeth a few weeks later. 

Annabeth knew she didn’t exactly look like a mom, with arms and legs covered in tattoos, a piercing in her eyebrow, and an undercut (really, her hair was simply too thick to deal with in its entirety), but she had always wanted a baby. And this one was hers. She didn’t expect Luke to want to coparent or be around at all. He made things easier -- financially especially -- but … 

Well, there wasn’t really a but. That was what annoyed her so deeply. They could be the perfect family. Mom and Dad just didn’t love each other. Luke had proposed to her when she told him. But Annabeth had just laughed and turned him down. It was more stable for Sophia this way. The less time they spent together, the less likely they were to hate each other in the end. 

But Annabeth still looked forward to six thirty. 

~ 

Thankfully, no one asked her to tattoo any genitals today. Closest she got was some side boob -- laurel wreaths, one on each tit. They came out pretty nice. She might have stolen the idea for herself if her tits still sat up like her client’s did. Breastfeeding had left her flatter than she was used to. But at least she could usually go braless these days. 

Annabeth cleared off her bench, disinfecting the surfaces and the equipment as Thalia’s voice got louder and closer to her. 

“I can have Hazel re-pierce your ear, if you want,” Thalia offered, tugging on some man’s ear. 

“Ow,” he complained. Annabeth stood still and looked at him. He must have been the cousin. Percy, she remembered. He looked more like Thalia than her brother did -- dark hair, strong jaw, just a few inches taller than her, and devastating green eyes. 

“This is Annabeth,” Thalia said, gesturing towards her. Annabeth gave a small wave. “She’ll be ruining your arm today.” 

Annabeth laughed, insulted. “You taught me. If you think my work is that bad, it’s your fault.” 

“It’s not about your work,” Thalia promised. “This idiot,” she pointed to the man, “lost a bet and now gets whatever dumb tattoo my brother picks out.” 

“I’m hoping he’s kind to me,” Percy said. 

Annabeth forced a smile and looked at Thalia. “I really don’t want to give you a tattoo you don’t want,” she said. 

“Bets a bet,” Thalia said. 

“It’s really no worries,” Percy said. 

“Is it your first tattoo?” Annabeth asked. 

“Nope,” he promised her. Then he rolled up his tee shirt sleeve to reveal his shoulder. It was covered in dark linework of waves, with a ship on the sea. The lines were incredibly clean, but for a moment, Annabeth panicked. It was shaded in with reds and purples that for a moment made her think it was painfully infected. 

It didn’t take long for her to realize it wasn’t infected at all. It was a very well-healed image of --

“The wine dark sea?” She guessed. 

“Yeah!” Percy said. “Thalia told me you were smart.” 

“She went to Harvard,” Thalia offered for her. 

“Smart enough not to bet on a tattoo,” Annabeth said to him. Well, anymore. 

Thalia walked back to her station, leaving Annabeth and Percy relatively alone. Frank had a man on his bench next to her, but they weren’t talking.  

“It’s really okay,” Percy promised her. “I knew I was going to lose.” 

“What was the bet?” She asked, inviting Percy to sit on the bench while they waited for Jason to make up his mind. 

“I’m working on my first book, he just finished his dissertation. Race to the finish. He was way ahead of me, though, just needed a final push to finish before his funding ran out. So, I figured I could sacrifice my forearm to keep him on track,” Percy explained. 

Annabeth asked a few more questions and Percy offered answers. He and his cousin were both classicists, he was Greek, Jason was Roman. Jason was at NYU, Percy had been out at UCLA, but then did a postdoc at UC Berkeley. But he’d finally gotten a job at Hunter College. He’d only just moved last week. 

“Are you from California?” Annabeth asked. Jason had finally made up his mind, they’d gotten the paperwork signed, and now Annabeth was applying the stencil. SPQR. Easy enough.  

“No, no, from New York, although,” he pointed to the New York Yankees logo she’d tattooed on herself just above the knee, “a Mets fan.” 

“I really don’t have strong allegiances. I just did this to piss off my Bostonian family more,” Annabeth said.  

“Rebellious,” Percy teased. “Thalia told me you’re from San Francisco?” 

Annabeth nodded. “Well, sort of. The family is from Boston, but my dad is also a professor. I grew up near West Point, then we moved to Berkeley when I was thirteen.” She pulled the stencil paper away. It looked straight. “There, check out if you like the placement.” 

Percy examined it in the mirror, twisting his arm in different positions to make sure he liked it. 

“Yeah, looks great!” He said, laying back down. “So, wait, your dad teaches at Berkeley?” 

Annabeth nodded. “History department. Twentieth century military stuff, though, you probably wouldn’t have --” 

“Is your dad Fred Chase?” 

Annabeth pressed her lips together to hold back a sigh before saying, “the one and only.” 

“He’s a …” Percy paused, studying her face to see what he should say about him, “very boring man,” Percy said. Annabeth laughed. 

“Yeah, yeah, all research, no fun,” Annabeth confirmed. 

Percy was looking at her in a new way, like he was trying to piece something together. “You’re his only daughter?” 

“Yep,” Annabeth confirmed. His eyes glanced at her chest, and Annabeth knew he figured it out. Her daughter’s name, the first three letters at least, poked through the V neck of her black tee shirt. “He’s mentioned me?” She asked. 

“Oh yeah. I mean, I haven’t talked to him a lot, but I mentioned I was from New York. He said he had a daughter and grandkid in the city.” 

Annabeth nodded. “Sophia.” 

“Where is Sophia today?” Percy asked. 

“With her father,” Annabeth said, trying to communicate through tone that Sophia’s father was not someone Annabeth was romantically attached to. “He’ll bring her around later,” and then for good measure, “he gets her on weekends.” 

Percy nodded, and then got comfortable, offering her his arm. “He gets her all weekend? Nights too?” 

Annabeth turned on the tattoo gun and picked up some ink. “Yeah, why?” 

“Just … if you’re single --” the needle made contact and shut him up. 

“You’ll still need to pay for the tattoo even if you ask me out,” she said with a teasing smile. 

Percy relaxed a bit as he got used to the sensation. Annabeth had it on good authority that she was a very gentle tattooer, actually. Men were just babies. 

“Yeah, I assumed,” Percy assured her. “Do you date? I mean, are you single?” 

“Am single, and I guess I date.” Truth be told, she didn’t date often. But she wasn’t opposed. Her arrangement with Luke would easily allow for a date here and there, she just … hadn’t dated much. Even before Sophia. Thirty in one month, she wasn’t exactly itching to join dating apps. 

“Cool,” Percy said as she finished the first pass on the S. “Are you free next weekend?” 

Annabeth smiled. “Let me finish this tattoo and then you can decide if you ever want to see me again,” she said. 

~ 

As always, her linework was clean, and the tattoo sat straight on his forearm. 

“How much?” Percy asked, after it was sanitized and wrapped. 

“One hundred,” Annabeth said. It should have been closer to $120, but she’d give him a friends and family discount. Percy handed her his card. 

Annabeth turned to the register. 

“So your daughter --” Percy started. Annabeth didn’t look up from what she was doing, worried about what he might say or what her face might reveal. “She’s what? Five?” 

“Yeah, she turned five in April.” 

“Blonde?” 

“So, so blonde,” Annabeth said with a faint smile. 

“Big fan of Beauty and the Beast?” 

Annabeth looked at him. “Did my dad talk about her that much or are you psychic?” She asked. 

Percy just pointed to the window. Six thirty. 

Luke was holding their daughter as Sophia waved her arms around, trying to get Annabeth’s attention. She was in a new Belle dress up dress. Annabeth had to appreciate that Luke doted on their daughter, but it was hard not to resent him. He got to be the fun gift-giving weekend parent, while Annabeth was stuck with the bath time, nap time, daycare, chores parent. Sophia was starting Kindergarten in the fall. Soon Annabeth would be the homework parent too. 

But her building resentments fled her for a moment. She put Percy’s card down and walked quickly towards the front door. Thalia had locked it at six after the last clients had come in for the day. 

“Hello beautiful,” Annabeth said as Luke handed Sophia over. She was starting to get too big to be picked up, but Annabeth was still doing her best. “I’m just finishing up,” she said to both of them, letting them inside. 

Percy and Luke seemed to recognize each other, and offered some warm words. 

“It’s been a while,” Percy said, glancing at Sophia, then back at Luke. 

“What? They don’t have Facebook out in California?” Luke asked him, as if to say this wasn’t a secret. 

“You know I don’t bother with all that,” Percy said. But Annabeth thought he looked a bit guilty and apologetic for missing … all of this. 

“Can I see your tattoo?” Sophia said, pulling on Percy’s shorts leg. Percy squatted down to her height and held out his arm. Sophia stared at it for a second before announcing: “That’s not a word!” 

Percy just laughed as Annabeth told her daughter to be polite, before adding, “really good reading, though.” Sophia beamed. 

“It’s Latin,” Percy explained, offering her the meaning in Latin then English. Sophia seemed genuinely inspired by the new information, and Annabeth wondered if she’d, despite it all, birthed a tiny scholar. 

When he finished his explanation, though, there was a long awkward silence between the three adults as Sophia ran off to find Hazel. 

Percy started to excuse himself, realizing that he was the odd man out now. He signed his name on the receipt, leaving Annabeth a more than generous tip. She watched him try to shield the receipt from Luke as he wrote his phone number for her. She hoped this wasn’t some bro code nonsense. Legally, Luke had partial custody of their daughter; he did not have authority over her Saturday nights. 

“See you next Saturday?” Annabeth asked as Percy started to leave. 

He looked sheepishly at her, but his smile betrayed him. “Yeah, let me know what works?” He said before leaving her alone with Luke. 

“You’re going out with him?” Luke asked as he handed over Sophia’s bag. 

“Maybe,” Annabeth said, tucking the receipt into her pocket. 

“I mean, I’m fine with it. It just … he’s a college professor,” Luke said. 

“What, you think I’m not smart enough for a college professor?” 

“No, I think your dad is a college professor,” Luke said. 

“Don’t be an asshole,” she warned. “How was she this weekend?”

“Great,” Luke said. “She read a bunch of books to me, we watched Beauty and the Beast twice, and we went to the park. No accidents, no injuries, no melt downs.” 

That was her girl. She was a bit injury-prone, as she inherited some of Annabeth’s impulsive fearlessness, but otherwise she was a smart, well-behaved girl. She was more than Annabeth thought she deserved. 

“Great, and the dress?” Annabeth asked. 

“Couldn’t help it. It was too cute,” Luke said. “It makes her happy.” 

“I’m not mad about it,” Annabeth promised. “Thank you. It’s sweet. I’ll be in touch about next week. Her Pre-K graduation is on Thursday, don’t forget,” Annabeth said. 

“Don’t worry, we also practiced singing ‘God Bless America,’” Luke said. The Pre-K kids were all singing that during the ceremony. 

“Well, I still need to clean up here. Feel free to hang out, or take off, whatever,” Annabeth said. 

Luke said hi to Thalia, goodbye to Sophia, and goodbye to Annabeth and was gone within a few minutes. “I need to talk to you about something this week,” Luke said. “An idea I had. A surprise for Sophie.” 

Annabeth nodded. “Alright, call me whenever,” she said, waving him off. 

“Tell Percy I said hello,” were his last words to her before leaving the shop. 

Annabeth found Sophia in the back with Hazel, who was marking where Sophia would get her ears pierced with a marker. Annabeth told her she had to be seven to get her ears pierced, but she still insisted on getting the little purple dots on her ears every time she saw Hazel. 

“Ready to go, nugget?” Annabeth asked. Sophia nodded and got Hazel’s help getting out of the big chair. “Say thank you,” Annabeth reminded her. 

~

Bay Ridge was decently close to the shop, and not too far from Park Slope where Luke lived, but it was still a long way on the R train. Sophia spent the entire ride asking Annabeth a series of ear-piercing related questions that Annabeth answered honestly, logically, and with as little audible annoyance as she could manage. 

But three stops from home, Annabeth suggested they play the quiet game. Her daughter was as competitive as she was smart, and stayed quiet the rest of the ride. 

Annabeth’s first words were: “Come on,” when the subway pulled into their stop, and Sophia’s first words were a boastful: “Ha! I win!” 

“Princesses don’t brag,” Annabeth said, taking her hand. That might have been a lie. She had no idea what princesses did or didn’t do. 

When they finally got back home, Annabeth popped some chicken nuggets in the airfryer, got some steam-in-bag veggies out of the freezer, and wrestled a tiny human out of her new princess dress. 

“Come on, you don’t want to get food on it,” Annabeth said as Sophia pouted. 

After many chicken nuggets, and a reluctant forkful of vegetables came the bath. Then the bedtime story. Then tucking her in. And kissing her goodnight. 

“Love you to the moon and back, sweetie,” Annabeth told her. 

“Can I wear my Belle dress to school tomorrow?” Sophia asked. 

“No, but I promise you can put it on as soon as you get home, okay?” Annabeth offered. 

“Okay.” 

“Good night,” Annabeth said. 

“Night night,” Sophia offered back. 

Annabeth shut her door. It was only nine. A bit late for her bedtime, but Sophia wanted a few extra chapters of The Hobbit, and Annabeth did love that book. 

Annabeth unpacked her weekend bag. Sophia’s favorite toys had already come out of it, and her favorite blanket. All that was left were the dirty clothes. One outfit was shoved in a plastic bag, covered in brown goo. Annabeth groaned. 

“For fucks sake, Luke --” He’d told her no accidents. Sophia had never even had a poopy accident before. She barely had accidents at all. How long had he ignored her for her to --  

Mud, it was mud, she realized when she opened the bag. Sophia had somehow gotten covered in mud. She took a deep breath and let her shoulders relax. 

Annabeth took out her phone and texted him anyway. 

Annabeth 

You could have told me about the muddy clothes 

Luke

Shit, sorry, I forgot. 

Happened this morning. 

She jumped off the swings and landed in a puddle 

I keep telling her not to do that

She typed out: no reason to leave it for me to clean but deleted it, in no mood to start a fight. 

Annabeth

I know, I keep telling her too. 

Maybe we take swings away from her until she stops next time

Luke

I don’t want to be the bad guy 

Annabeth

You think I do? I’m proposing a united effort here. I just need to know you’ll back me up. 

Luke 

Alright, I will. 

She just went to the bathroom and dropped the dirty clothes in the shower and started to rinse them out. Her apartment had a washer and dryer, one of two blessings in her life (Sophia, of course, the first one), but she didn’t need it getting covered in Brooklyn mud. She let that wash down the drain. 

With the clothes rinsed she started the wash, stripping off her own clothes from the day to throw in with them. 

Her hand slipped into her pockets, checking to make sure she didn’t wash another pair of headphones. She found Percy's receipt. She smiled. She typed the phone number into her contacts, before putting the receipt in her bag. The shop would actually need that to charge him and make sure she got her tip. 

Annabeth

Hey, it’s Annabeth

He’d texted back by the time she got out of the shower. 

Percy

Hey! 

Annabeth

I’ll be honest, I was hoping for a better pick up line 

Percy

Shit, okay hold on let me think of one 

How about: you are an SPQ-T?  

Annabeth 

It’ll do 

They didn’t talk much. She asked about his tattoo; he confirmed their dinner plans. He asked about Sophia, if she had a good weekend, that sort of thing. 

Percy

She’s adorable. Looks just like you

Except blank 

Annabeth laughed. 

Annabeth

She’s constantly in trouble at school for drawing on her arms and her friends’ arms. 

Percy

She’ll be a great artist one day I’m sure 

Annabeth

Her dream career is artist princess mommy

That’s exactly what she’ll tell you if you ask

Percy

Not a bad collection of jobs 

Annabeth finally asked the question she did need an answer for before anything else went forward. 

Annabeth 

Do you like kids? 

Percy

I love kids 

Can’t wait for my own honestly 

Annabeth

So you’re alright with me having a kid? 

Percy

Yeah for sure

It’s not like she’s going anywhere anyway. Wouldn’t have asked you out if it wasn’t okay. 

Annabeth 

Were you and Luke close growing up? 

Percy

Eh, he was always Thalia’s friend. He mostly tried to pressure me into stealing candy and shit. 

Us going out wouldn’t be weird to me

Is it weird for him?

Annabeth

He hasn’t really said anything about it 

Percy

Is it weird for you?

Annabeth

No

Percy

Good, that’s all that matters to me 😁

[andre-and-cal]

I NEED ANDRE AND CAL HCS!

Sure thing !! Hope you like! :3

General Andre and Cal Headcanons,,

Calvin tends to “tune out” Andre’s words whenever he’s explaining instructions to him— whether it be related to their Zero Day plans, board game rules, or other related topics. He frequently goes “Huh?” or “Hmmh?” when he’s not paying attention, to which Andre has to remind him about the topic and repeat his words over again. But he knows that Calvin can’t help it, and he generally doesn’t mind reminding him about different things— like homework, tests, etc. considering he has a better memory than Cal.

Andre and Cal watch malware-infested gore videos to further desensitize themselves to death and to sort of mentally prepare for Zero Day, and for the sake of watching people die. With the lack of concern yet interest in Cal’s eyes, Andre is both a little surprised, yet mostly unsurprised that Calvin reacts so indifferently to shock videos. He’d be a hypocrite if he labeled it as unsettling, after all. Their repeated pattern of watching these sorts of torture videos— especially when Cal can find “good ones” (in his words) at least— stemmed from the discovery of a website that showcased the aftermaths of car accidents. And after doing a little digging, Cal stumbled upon the leaked cartel videos section. He introduced the videos to Andre, and the other teen found himself getting intrigued by such graphic matter. Calvin describes the grislier videos as the “good videos”.

Calvin can definitely be a bit emotionally manipulative during arguments. Whenever Andre is provoked, grows visibly enraged, and blurts something out he doesn’t mean, Cal uses this to somewhat control Andre. And when he definitely wants to win the argument, he threatens to tell Andre’s cousin, his absent brother, or his parents about what he said. Andre may or may not care, since it really depends on why they’re bickering. But usually, he does care, and even though he tries not to let Cal influence his behaviors, especially during these negatively-charged moments, he doesn’t want anyone to find out about what he said— and definitely not family. Because in his eyes, this may raise suspicion and could result in their peers finding out about Zero Day. When he does decide to grow quiet, Cal is like, “Yeah, so shut the fuck up.” But his exploitative tactics don’t always work, and they could further influence Andre’s emotions.

Andre rarely apologizes when he means it. He kinda just says “Sorry,” after bumping into someone out of habit. He was taught to be respectful, but 90% of the time he doesn’t care about what he did wrong. Even during arguments, when Calvin is trying to state how he fucked up, Andre will tell him to get over it. Most of the time, he does care about aspects of their dynamic that do matter. But in some moments, he won’t, and he’ll just kept doing whatever it is he’s doing. To elaborate, if Cal told him to control himself and to stop being “dramatic”, Andre wouldn’t take him into consideration and would turn the tables by criticizing him about something he cares about and Cal doesn’t.

Calvin and Andre share clothes sometimes. To Cal, seeing Andre in his clothes is quite flattering. Andre thinks rings are cool, too, so he’ll wear them occasionally. Also, he likes to wear Cal’s bracelets and necklaces to feel closer to him, on top of matching dog tags with him.

Andre is an energy drinker. His favorite is Red Bull. Cal drinks a lot of soda and prefers Coca-Cola or Mountain Dew over anything else. While Calvin does enjoy having an energy drink sometimes, often sharing a Red Bull with Andre as energy drinks contain a lot of caffeine, he doesn’t really drink them on his own time.

When Andre and Cal first started planning Zero Day, as they began to practice handling their guns and shooting, they would frequently argue about the correct order and anatomy of the firearm parts they were using. Chris had to step in a couple times to calm them down. Cal insisted that he was right, while Andre insisted that he was right. In general, they have a hard time accepting that either one of them could be right— about anything, really, with the two determined to prove the other wrong and to “get on their high horse”. However, it isn’t uncommon for both boys to end up being wrong, especially if the conflict is similar to their gun-related issues.

[valenteal]

Ok so I know we all wish there was more reaction in canon to the revelation of Dazai’s past. But I think there’s more of a reaction than people realize. It’s like the entire dynamic shifts after the meeting with the mafia. And it’s easy to attribute this to things getting more serious, more dangerous, because no one mentions Dazai being the reason for it. But I think it’s important to understand about these characters that the not saying anything is extremely indicative of their feelings on the matter. I think the tension is mostly glossed over because at the end of the day this is still Atsushi’s story and he’s kinda oblivious to it. But Dazai and Kunikida aren’t really partners after that, their interactions go way down, their banter is no longer a staple of the series. And Dazai wasn’t really close enough with anyone else to see major changes in his relationships with them, but we can guess based on what we do know.

For one thing, anyone thinking Fukuzawa already knew, sorry to burst your bubble but Taneda didn’t tell him jack. In fact Dazai made up a story about randomly meeting him at a bar and Taneda offering to find him a job if he won a bet or something. Dazai lied to Fukuzawa just as much as anyone else, he had elaborate cover stories. Fukuzawa told Kunikida to shoot him if he showed a hint of malicious intent but Dazai managed to worm his way out of that disguising it as his solution to the case/a suicide attempt. He pretended to be the bad guy to put on a show for the people listening in, and create an excuse for the listening device to be destroyed and gave Kunikida enough hints that he’d think twice about actually shooting him and pretended he wanted him to do it. It’s a very masterfully done scheme really, because Kunikida was so wrapped up in how it affected the case that he miss took Dazai’s innocence in the case for a lack of hidden evil. Kunikida definitely saw a side of Dazai that would make the President say “shoot him” but he didn’t even realize it because it was connected to solving the case. And when he lists off all the things he has problems with about Dazai it’s all about his unprofessional behavior and laziness and he doesn’t even mention that Dazai was so incredibly good at playing the bad guy that it didn’t feel fake. He didn’t mention the chilling aura. Dazai distracted him with all his other bad behavior.

But Ranpo must have known right? Well he certainly knew something was off about Dazai immediately after meeting him even without putting his glasses on. But I don’t think even he could have deduced Dazai’s past with the information he had. Because you have to remember that Dazai’s crimes were erased by Mushitaro’s ability and that Ranpo specializes in understanding crime scenes, not psychological profiling. Ranpo uses physical evidence for the most part and he needs knowledge of the crime to find the perpetrator. I don’t think it works the other way around. Not to mention that Fukuzawa trusts Kunikida and Kunikida said Dazai passed his entrance exam so Ranpo probably didn’t choose to look too closely at Dazai.

Anyway, the point is no one at the agency knew Dazai was in the mafia until the Guild arc. And Dazai’s interactions with the rest of the agency changed after that revelation. I think only Atsushi, Kyouka, and Kenji don’t change how they see him, because Atsushi is Atsushi, Kyouka probably already knew from when she captured him and his pep talk made her more comfortable with the idea, and Kenji is Kenji. Everyone else though? It’s a shock. And a lot of them probably just don’t know how to handle it. It helps that they got Kyouka around the same time it was revealed but Dazai had been lying to all their faces for two years at that point and he showed absolutely no remorse for that. Dazai doesn’t make a big deal of it, doesn’t try to make excuses for himself, doesn’t try to justify anything. Without him starting the conversation none of them have a way to comfortably bring up the subject. And because none of them (except Kenji) knows how to communicate in a healthy way, they just end up stewing with the information without fully processing it or acknowledging it. They’re stuck in this limbo of doubt and discomfort. It’s actually incredibly nuanced and I bet it’s all going to come to a head at some point in the near future and it’s going to be that much more satisfying for the wait.

[heliosunny]

Hello! Would it be possible to request something for Gallagher in your lucky egg series?

He is one of my favs and I hardly see any content for him nowadays Q v Q

LUCKY EGG

Yandere!Gallagher x Reader

The machine wasn’t supposed to work. You had only stopped at the dusty, neglected egg dispenser on a whim, something about the faded, peeling label caught your eye. The instructions were barely legible, save for a single phrase that stood out: "Hatches in three days."

It was probably a cheap gimmick, a leftover relic from some forgotten event. You hadn’t expected much when the smooth, palm-sized egg rolled into your hand. Still, curiosity got the better of you.

And now, three days later, you stood frozen as the egg in your hands cracked open. You were scared so you dropped it. It wasn’t a creature, not in the way you expected. No fur, no scales, no small, alien features. It was a man.

Tall, broad-shouldered, and curled up in a fetal position as if he had been compressed inside the egg for too long. His shaggy brown hair was damp, strands clinging to his forehead, and a faint stubble shadowed his jaw. The muscles in his arms and torso flexed as he exhaled for the first time, taking in a slow, measured breath. Then, he opened his eyes.

A pair of sharp, molten-red irises locked onto you, and something clicked. Before you could react, he reached for you, his large, calloused hands gripping your wrists with an almost desperate firmness.

"Found you."

Then, his arms pulled you closer, pressing himself against you as if he had just found an anchor in a storm.

"Mine."

You told yourself it was just instinct.

Gallagher—as he introduced himself, almost offhandedly, had just hatched from an egg. He was likely confused, disoriented, latching onto the first person he saw like some newborn creature imprinting on its caretaker. It made sense. Logically. But the way he watched you didn’t feel logical.

He followed without hesitation, trailing after you through the station like a shadow. His presence was heavy, impossible to ignore. You’d glance over your shoulder, and his red eyes would already be fixed on you, sharp yet strangely relaxed, as if he had no reason to look at anything else.

You tried reasoning with him.

“You don’t have to follow me everywhere, you know.”

Gallagher tilted his head slightly, as if you had spoken in a language he didn’t understand. Then, a slow, lazy grin tugged at his lips.

“Yeah, I do.”

There was something deeply unsettling about how comfortable he was. Despite his apparent inexperience with the world, Gallagher acted like he belonged. He moved with a lazy sort of confidence, his shirt messily half-tucked, the sleeves rolled up as if he had been wearing them for years instead of a single day. His deep maroon pants were slightly wrinkled, his vest layered haphazardly, yet he made no effort to fix them. It was like he had no concept of discomfort or, rather, it didn’t bother him.

The only thing that did seem to bother him?

Distance.

The moment you tried to slip away, even for a second, he noticed. It wasn’t dramatic at first. Just a flicker of red in the corner of your vision. A subtle shift in the air. But when you tried locking a door between you, just for a moment of solitude—he knocked.

"Why are you shutting me out?"

You hesitated. “Gallagher, you don’t need to be with me all the time.”

"But I belong to you."

The way he said it, so casual, so certain—made it impossible to argue.

You woke to the sensation of warmth.

The weight of an arm draped over your waist. The slow, steady rhythm of breathing close. Your bed was not meant for two.

You turned your head, your pulse spiking as your gaze met Gallagher’s, already open, already watching.

"Morning." His voice was low, smooth, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

Your heartbeat slammed against your ribs. “Gallagher—what are you doing in my bed?”

He blinked slowly, his red eyes laced with something unreadable.

"But this is where I belong."

His fingers curled into the fabric of your sleeve. He was close enough that you could see the faint glow of old scars on his right arm, the way they pulsed slightly, like embers waiting to reignite.

"I don’t get it" he murmured. "You took me in. You’re the first person I saw. The first person who ever touched me, spoke to me, looked at me."

"You’re my world now" he whispered, forehead barely brushing yours.

His grip on your sleeve tightened, just enough to make your skin prickle.

"I won’t let you leave me."

The opportunity came when he finally let his guard down.

Gallagher almost never left your side, not when you walked through the station, not when you ate, and certainly not when you tried to sleep. He was always there, hovering in the periphery, watching you with a lazy sort of amusement. There are moments when he went out but it was not enough to get yourself some freetime.

But tonight, you got lucky.

It was the first time he willingly separated himself from you, and you weren’t about to waste the chance.

With shaking hands, you scribbled a note and left it on the table.

Gallagher, I need some space. I’ll be back. - [Y/N]

You slipped out the door. The bar was the safest place you could think of. It was packed with people, loud and chaotic, a perfect place to disappear. You tucked yourself into a corner booth, nursing a drink you barely touched, keeping your head down.

Minutes passed. Then an hour.

Maybe… just maybe, you had gotten away.

A glass clinked against the table in front of you.

“Long night?”

The voice was smooth, deep, and far too familiar.

Slowly, your eyes lifted and met his.

Gallagher stood there, behind the bar, sleeves lazily rolled up, his white vest slightly undone. He looked every bit the part of a bartender, blending into the dim atmosphere as if he belonged.

Panic surged through your veins. You tried to move, but his hand was already there, resting on the table beside yours, cutting off your escape.

His lips curled into a slow, lazy grin.

“Funny thing” he murmured, voice as smooth as the whiskey in his hands. “I was just about to take a break. Why don’t we catch up?”

Your throat was dry. Your body tensed, every nerve on edge as Gallagher leaned casually against the bar, his red eyes never leaving you. The low hum of conversation and clinking glasses surrounded you, yet all you could focus on was him.

“How…?” You barely managed to get the word out.

Gallagher tilted his head slightly, as if amused by your reaction. Then, with an easy, almost lazy shrug, he responded “Wasn’t hard.”

“Left a trail, y’know? Like a pup wandering too far from home.” His lips curled into that familiar, relaxed smirk. “You might as well have whistled for me.”

Like a hound on a scent, like he was born to follow, he tracked you.

Gallagher let out a quiet chuckle, reaching for a nearby glass and wiping it down, pretending as if this was just another slow night behind the counter.

“You ready to come home, or do I gotta carry you?”

The bar was too crowded, too loud, too public. You couldn’t cause a scene here. So, you forced yourself to nod.

“…Let’s go somewhere quieter.”

The lake shimmered beneath the glow of the artificial sky, ripples forming as a small group of ducks lazily swam across the water. The quiet was a stark contrast to the bar, the air felt lighter, almost peaceful.

You sat on a long white public bench, arms crossed as you watched the ducks bob along the surface. Gallagher sat beside you, stretching out like he had no care in the world.

“You’re quiet.”

Your fingers gripped the fabric of your sleeves. “…Still trying to wrap my head around everything.”

Gallagher hummed, resting an arm over the back of the bench. “Mm. Take your time.”

You exhaled slowly, watching as one of the ducks dunked its head underwater before reemerging with a shake of its feathers. It was strange, watching them swim so carefreely while you sat beside a man who had imprinted on you. Beside you, Gallagher shifted. Before you could react—his hand slid up, fingers threading through your hair.

A slow inhale. You stiffened. He was… sniffing you.

The act was slow, deliberate. His nose barely brushed against the crown of your head as he took in your scent like it was something he needed to commit to memory. Heat crept up your neck, but before you could pull away, Gallagher’s hand moved again, this time, gently pushing your head onto his shoulder.

“You can rest” he murmured, voice low and steady. “Not going anywhere.”

Despite yourself, the exhaustion of the night weighed on you. His warmth, the steady rise and fall of his chest, it all felt… lulling.

Before long, your eyelids drooped.

You barely stirred when Gallagher lifted you into his arms. The lake shimmered behind him, the ducks continuing their gentle glide across the water.

Gallagher exhaled softly, adjusting his grip.

“…Mine” he murmured under his breath.

His fingers curled around you a little tighter as he carried you through the quiet streets, each step slow, measured, like he was savoring the moment. When he finally reached home, he set you down carefully, tucking the blankets around you, brushing stray strands of hair away from your face.

Then, without hesitation, he slid into bed beside you.

His arm draped over your waist, fingers loosely curling into the fabric of your clothes.

His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer.

You woke up in a panic. The sun was already streaming through the window—too bright, too late. The weight of an arm draped over your waist.

Gallagher.

Memories of the night before crashed into you all at once. Your heart lurched as you realized he was right there, still sleeping soundly beside you, his grip on you loose but present.

Work.

You needed to go to work.

You were late.

Panic shot through you like electricity. You moved to sit up, only for the arm around you to tighten.

“Mm… where ya goin’?” Gallagher’s voice was thick with sleep, rough yet relaxed as he pulled you back down.

You sucked in a breath. “I—Gallagher, I need to”

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply as if to silence you.

“…Stay” he muttered.

You were late. You needed to move. But Gallagher wasn’t letting you go.

And judging by the slow, satisfied smirk tugging at his lips, he liked watching you struggle.

Gallagher’s grip didn’t ease, even as you tried to squirm away. His red eyes cracked open just slightly, peering at you with that lazy, amused expression—like a cat watching a trapped bird.

“Relax” he murmured, voice thick with sleep. “No need to rush.”

You groaned, pushing at his arm. “Gallagher, I’m late. I need to go—”

“Mm.” He blinked slowly, then let out a deep sigh as if your panic was inconveniencing him. “You’re worried about work, yeah?”

You stopped struggling.

“…What else would I be worried about?”

He let out a low chuckle, finally loosening his grip enough for you to sit up—but not without keeping a firm hand on your wrist.

“Guess I should’ve mentioned,” Gallagher drawled, stretching lazily. “I farmed some points from a dungeon for you already.”

You blinked.

“…What?”

He yawned, scratching the back of his neck before finally sitting up properly.

“Your workload. Figured it’d be a hassle for you, so I handled it.”

You stared at him.

“What do you mean you handled it?”

Gallagher tilted his head slightly, as if confused by your reaction. “Like I said—I farmed points. Easy stuff.”

Your mind raced. That wasn’t something people could just do for others.

“You… went into a dungeon. For me?”

Gallagher grinned, rubbing his thumb over your wrist absentmindedly. “Yeah.”

“Gallagher,” you started, trying to keep your voice steady, “you can’t just do that.”

“Why not?” He raised a brow, expression as casual as if he were talking about making breakfast. “Didn’t take long. Just had to crack a few skulls, grab some loot—y’know, the usual.”

You hadn’t even realized he could enter dungeons, let alone farm points for you. And the way he spoke about it—like it was as effortless as breathing.

“You—You can’t just go out and fight for me, Gallagher.”

He blinked.

“Why not?”

His voice was completely genuine.

“…Because that’s not normal.”

Gallagher let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Not normal for you, maybe. But I was made for this, sweetheart.”

His red eyes gleamed as he leaned in closer, voice lowering into something almost coaxing.

“You’re mine to protect, aren’t you?”

That wasn’t the problem. The problem was how easily he accepted this—how quickly he had taken over something meant to be your responsibility.

“…You didn’t have to do that.”

Gallagher smirked. “I wanted to.”

His fingers brushed against your knuckles, his warmth bleeding into your skin.

“Now” he murmured, voice smooth and unwavering, “why don’t you take the day off?”

The first morning after your forced day off started peacefully.

You heard screaming. Not the dangerous kind. Not the kind that sent your heart racing in fear. No, this was the high-pitched, chaotic kind that only came from kids.

You groaned, rubbing your temples as the shrieks and laughter rang through the walls. The new family next door had moved in just yesterday, and you hadn’t even had the chance to introduce yourself before their children had taken over the neighborhood with their relentless energy.

And, unfortunately, you were horrible at handling kids.

You stared at the door, debating whether you should go out there and try to quiet them down, only for Gallagher to step past you, rolling up his sleeves.

“I got this.”

“…What?”

He didn’t answer. He just walked out.

You peeked through the window, watching as Gallagher strolled right up to the group of kids who were currently playing some sort of game that involved a lot of shouting. You expected them to ignore him. You would’ve ignored him at that age.

Instead, they stopped. Gallagher crouched down slightly, resting an arm over one knee as he talked to them. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, but whatever it was—it worked. The kids actually listened.

Within minutes, they had gone from wild gremlins to an organized little squad. Gallagher handled them like a pro. You watched in stunned silence as he ruffled a kid’s hair, gave another one some kind of strategy tip for football, and even managed to stop a fight before it started.

When he finally walked back inside, rolling down his sleeves, you could only stare.

“…What was that?”

Gallagher smirked. “Kids are easy. Just gotta talk to ‘em right.”

You crossed your arms, still processing what you just witnessed.

“…You’re good at everything, aren’t you?”

Gallagher blinked, as if the thought had never occurred to him.

Then, he shrugged. “Guess so.”

You exhaled, slumping against the counter. At this point, you figured as long as he wasn’t causing problems, maybe keeping him around was fine.

“…Gallagher” you started, tilting your head slightly, “what would you do without me?”

For the first time, he paused.

Then, ever so slowly, his red eyes slid toward you.

“…Why?”

The casual drawl in his voice was still there, but something about the way he looked at you, the way his fingers idly tapped against his arm—felt off.

You swallowed. “I was just wondering.”

“Well” he murmured, stepping closer, “I don’t plan on findin’ out.”

Gallagher had been sneaking out.

You didn’t notice at first, he was good at covering his tracks, slipping out after you fell asleep and returning before sunrise. But today, when he strolled through the front door like nothing happened, you caught the faintest shift in his movements.

A subtle wince. The way his right arm hung just a bit stiffer than usual.

“Gallagher.”

He blinked at you, then gave his usual lazy smirk. “Mornin’, sweetheart.”

You ignored the greeting, stepping closer. He let you, watching in amusement as your fingers reached for his sleeve.

“You’re hurt.”

He sighed dramatically. “It’s nothin’—”

You rolled up his sleeve anyway.

There—just above his wrist, was a deep scrape, dried blood crusting over the edge. A bruise was already forming along his knuckles, dark and ugly against his pale skin.

You frowned. “Did you go to a dungeon?”

Gallagher didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he watched you, as if gauging your reaction.

“…Yeah.”

You exhaled sharply, grabbing the first-aid kit.

He didn’t protest as you sat him down, kneeling beside him as you cleaned his wound. His eyes never left you, red irises gleaming with something unreadable.

“…You don’t have to do this, y’know,” he murmured, voice quieter than usual.

You dabbed the wound gently, refusing to look at him. “Then don’t get hurt.”

A low chuckle. “Fair enough.”

As you wrapped the bandage around his wrist, a knock echoed from the door. When you opened it, the kids next door stood there, grinning up at you.

“Hi!” one of them chirped. “Our mom made extra food, so she told us to give you some!”

Your eyes softened. “Oh—thank you.”

They handed you a neatly wrapped container, bouncing slightly on their heels before glancing past you. And straight at Gallagher. Their faces lit up.

“Mr. Gallagher!”

You turned back, only to find Gallagher already leaning against the counter, smirking.

“You been doin’ alright?” he drawled.

The kids nodded enthusiastically, chattering about their day as if they had completely forgotten about you.

You sighed.

Even children liked him more than you did.

Later that afternoon, you decided it was time for Gallagher to get some proper clothes. His usual attire, messy, half-unbuttoned, and constantly stained with alcohol—was starting to draw attention.

He, of course, didn’t care.

But you did.

Which was why you ended up dragging him to a store, sifting through racks of shirts while Gallagher lazily trailed behind.

“Oh. It’s you.”

You turned, already feeling your mood sour.

Standing there, with a smug little smile, was a woman you hadn’t seen in years. An old acquaintance—one you hated.

She worked here? Great.

“You actually shop here?” she laughed, crossing her arms. “I thought this place would be a bit too pricey for you.”

Your jaw clenched. “I’m just looking.”

She gave a slow, exaggerated nod, as if she didn’t believe you. “Right. Of course.”

Gallagher’s eyes flicked between you both, his smirk fading slightly.

“…Friend of yours?” he asked casually.

Your old acquaintance barely spared him a glance. “Hardly.”

She turned back to you, smiling sweetly. “Well, I should get back to work. Some of us have careers to focus on.”

Then, with one last condescending glance, she walked away.

Your fingers curled into a fist.

Gallagher, however, said nothing.

Not until much later.

That night, while you were asleep, Gallagher left the house.

He didn’t go to a dungeon this time.

Instead, he waited.

He waited outside the store, watching as your old acquaintance finally ended her shift and started walking home.

She didn’t notice him at first.

Not until the quiet, measured footsteps behind her became too persistent. She turned. And there he was.

Leaning against a lamppost, smiling.

“Long day?” he drawled.

She blinked. “Do I know you?”

Gallagher tilted his head. “Nah.”

She frowned, stepping back. “Then why are you—”

He took a slow step forward.

The street was empty.

“…Y’know” Gallagher murmured, voice barely above a whisper, “I don’t like the way you talk to my sweetheart.”

The color drained from her face.

And then she ran.

Gallagher watched her go, red eyes gleaming in the dim streetlights.

Then, with a low chuckle, he turned around— And walked home. The door creaked open in the dead of night. Gallagher stepped inside, movements slow and deliberate. The street lights outside cast faint shadows across the room, illuminating the lazy smirk on his lips as he shrugged off his coat. His red eyes flicked toward the bed.

There you were. Curled up beneath the blankets, your breathing soft and even. The faint glow of the night drifted over your face, highlighting the peaceful rise and fall of your chest.

He exhaled quietly, rolling his shoulders.

Another peaceful day for you.

He liked it that way.

Silently, Gallagher approached the bed. His movements were surprisingly gentle, careful, almost like he was afraid to wake you. He sat on the edge first, watching the steady rhythm of your breaths.

Then, slowly, he reached out. His fingers brushed against your hair, smoothing it back. His thumb ghosted over your cheek. A quiet hum rumbled in his throat as he finally slipped beneath the blankets.

You stirred slightly, a faint mumble escaping your lips. Gallagher stilled, watching as you shifted, then, instinctively, gravitated toward him. His smirk deepened. Your subconscious already knew where you belonged.

Carefully, he pulled you closer, pressing your head against his chest. His arm draped over your waist, securing you in place. He let out a slow breath, his body relaxing for the first time that night.

This was nice.

Just the two of you. No noise. No interruptions.

His eyes fluttered shut.

Another peaceful day would come tomorrow.

And the day after that.

And the day after that.

Because as long as he was here, you weren’t going anywhere.

---

Visit - Lucky egg series

[Phainon] [Adventurine]

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

october 1, 2021 4:15 p.m. grant's house

[juhani] hello? grant, can i call you tomorrow? it’s late.

[grant] no, you can’t. i know it’s 11 o’clock where you are right now, and i don’t really care. you answered, so you’ve trapped yourself.

[varpu, faintly] juha, if you don’t talk now, he will never call you back.

[juhani] i want to speak with you, of course i do, it’s just–

[grant] fantastic, because that’s what we’re doing. we’re talking! i have 30 years of stuff to get off my chest, and i'm sure you have your own piece to share. not sure where to start, but.

[juhani] may i ask you a question? what did you overhear at dinner the other night? are you upset i'm moving? is that it?

[grant] i mean, that stung a little after the whole “i’ll be around to build a relationship with you,” thing, but i gave you my express permission to go home, so it’s whatever. we are both adults, so i am not going to fault you for making adult decisions that improve your life. i'm more upset by you claiming you didn’t tell me about your plans or include me in the moving and wedding stuff and whatever because i'm difficult.

[juhani] that’s not what–

[grant] oh, come on. don’t kid yourself. you said it yourself, anything involving me is like pulling teeth. i heard it loud and clear.

[juhani] well, when i tell you things, you never react well. it always goes precisely like this conversation is going.

[grant] really? never? because i remember being pretty positive about your proposal and about you contacting me in the first place and about coming to dinner to acquaint myself with varpu’s kids and about meeting varpu a while back…

[grant] what i react poorly to is you leaving me out, you calling me difficult, you complaining about me in front of impressionable people, etcetera.

[juhani] i don’t want to leave you out.

[grant] that’s what varpu said, too, but i didn’t believe her, so why would i believe you?

[juhani] i have no idea how to interact with you. i've apologized to you, told you i regret the events of your childhood. nothing works.

[grant] do you regret it? because it kind of just feels like you’re doing the same shit again. abandoning me for your own self-interests. oh, and this time you’re replacing me with a brand new family you treat better.

[juhani] i'm not repl–okay, what would you prefer me do when you push me away? you told me i was difficult.

[grant] when did i say that? i mean, that's true, sure, but i would not say that to you. what i probably said that you’re misconstruing is that talking to you is hard because i'm not comfortable around you.

[juhani] and how long will it take you to be comfortable around me? i don’t know what else you want me to do. truly, i don’t, and it is not pleasant to be rejected endlessly.

[grant] well, i'd have to forgive you, but i don’t. if forgiveness was meant to happen, it would not be instant. you’d have to keep trying with me, even if i piss you off, even if i push you away. you’re my fucking father, it’s your job. you show up for your kid even if they’re horrible or annoying. you never turn your back on them. but, you know, you didn’t show up for the first 22 years you were around, so you’d have to try extra hard now to change my mind.

[grant] but honestly, i will never be comfortable around you. i've realized that over the last few days. i did actually think if you just kept trying, i'd relax and be less on edge, but nope. you could become an honest-to-god saint tomorrow, and i'll still be furious because nothing will make me understand why you couldn’t have been a decent person when i was a kid. like, when i needed you.

[grant] and i don’t get why you weren't. i don't. i'm serious. i can’t comprehend it. clearly, you have it in you to be a decent person. you love varpu's kids. you're fatherly towards them. you take them on vacation, you invite them to house and wedding venue tours, you tell them about and include them in your hobbies, you remember details about them, you smile at them without being forced, you go to their weddings and don’t flip out about them being queer even though you were viscerally disgusted with me when you found out–

[juhani] you shouldn’t bring them into this. it isn’t fair. and i've taken you on vacation before, for one.

[grant] i am being petty, but i think it's fair because i'm not shitting on them specifically. and yeah, okay, you took me on vacation once. you took me to finland exactly once, but i never met your family, and i remember nothing other than the plane rides.

[grant] and you shouldn’t do this. we don’t need to split hairs. you don’t need to crawl through that list of grievances and “well, actually” me as many times as you can manage. one vacation changes nothing. that does not erase all the times you sat there like a lame duck and ignored me or mocked me or let my mother abuse me. there is nothing for you to pat yourself on the back about.

[grant] nothing.

[juhani] so, what are you upset about now?

[grant] why?

[juhani] why what?

[grant] why are you like this? why were you a terrible father? why have no heart for me or my sisters? why did you save all your love for someone else’s kids?

[grant] oh, and how about cerise? you sure didn’t care about your bastard kids either, did you?

[grant] shit. i'm sorry. that just kind of came out. that’s not how i wanted to, you know, pepper that into this conversation. i was going to save that for the end.

[juhani] how do you know about her?

[grant] doesn't matter. it's a long story.

[grant] on that note, what is up with the secret daughter? how’d that happen? is she the only one, too, or should i be on the lookout for any other siblings? and hey, you only divorced my mother in the last few years, so you were cheating. how many times did you fuck around on her, and why would you? you wouldn’t divorce her because you were afraid of her, but apparently it's no big deal to cheat.

[juhani] grant, how can i answer you if you don't allow me to talk? cerise’s mother michelle is a doctor. your mother and i were both at a conference in detroit about healthcare outreach, and…

[juhani] i know it seems contradictory, given how long i stayed with your mother, but i was unhappy in the marriage. i met michelle there at the conference, and she was kind and intelligent, and i suppose the rest of the story should be obvious to you.

[grant] goddamn, man. i hate my mother, but that’s bold: sleeping with another woman right in front of her face.

[grant] did she ever find out?

[juhani] eventually. you remember how she was with the finances. she tracked all the money going in and out of the household. you couldn’t have one cent go missing without being accused of something, and she’d always blame it on some incident with her brother and start ranting about him.

[juhani] look, the agreement with michelle was that i'd stay out of her life and send child support, and she wouldn’t interfere with my family either. i used to lie and tell your mother the child support funds were going somewhere important, but she didn't believe me very long. she did finally question me and find out the truth.

[grant] and?

[juhani] in hindsight, her reaction reminds me a lot of the one she had when you lashed out at her during your graduation dinner. very little left her speechless, but that did. initially, i should clarify. she would go on to never let me live cerise’s existence down.

[juhani] and to answer your question, as far as i know, cerise is the only other child.

[grant] as far as you know?

[juhani] i cannot rule out further surprises.

[grant] jesus christ. my grandmother is right, all men are dogs, but you most of all.

[juhani] does it upset you that much?

[grant] again, i don’t like my mother, but if i needed any more proof that you’re more spineless than a sea sponge, this is it. you were so unhappy with my mother that you’d cheat on her, but you’d not divorce her when your kids were vulnerable.

[grant] you disgust me. you slept around and thought with your dick before you spared a single thought for the kids you let my mother abuse. or for yourself! fuck you. if you’re going to be that selfish, at least be selfish enough to prioritize yourself and leave the woman making you that miserable!

[grant] and now i don’t believe you when you say you wouldn’t leave her back then because you were scared of her. do you seriously mean to tell me it’s less terrifying to cheat on her than to just walk out of the house and never come back?

[grant] i did that, you know? when i'd had enough of my mother, i told her as much and then never spoke to her again. and guess what? wouldn’t you be so stunned to find out she’s never tracked me down, never tried to call or email to reel me back in? she left me alone after i told her to go fuck herself!

[grant] and technically, you know it's possible to leave her, too. what did you say about the divorce? that she just rolled over and let you do it and was fine with you just coughing up all the assets and dipping?

[grant] exhibits A, B, and C that she’s a coward, too. she thinks she’s the boss, but if you fight back hard enough, she gives up. you could have left her at any point in time.

[grant] god. oh my god. you stupid, spineless motherfucker. i thought i'd maxed out on anger. apparently not!

[grant] you really could have been a better father. you could have had your whole little life overhaul decades ago, and you could have saved the entire family so much pain. you, me, elizabeth, kelly…

[grant] i should have suspected as much, and i guess i did, but it's shocking to realize over and over just how useless you are as a father. i think it can't get any worse and then it does. you are a complete and utter failure as a parent.

[grant] this is why i can’t forgive you. you didn’t have to mess up so badly. but no. whatever you got out of the relationship was enough to convince you to sit there and watch my mother ruin all of us, and even thought you weren't happy with her, you got by with fucking other women and only regretted staying a billion years later when you noticed you had nothing of substance left in life but my mother. and that’s a pretty depressing way to live, isn’t it?

[juhani] i stayed because i thought we deserved each other.

[grant] with that attitude, maybe you did.

[grant] listen, i'll admit this, no problem. it’s no one’s fault that she is the way that she is. it’s not even yours. she’s abusive, and what she does to other people is her fault and her responsibility. she’s excellent, too, at convincing you to just go along with it and never question her. it's not that hard to get caught in her trap at first, and she will try her very best to break you. but at some point, you have to question anyway. at some point, you have to recognize you deserve better and do something about it.

[grant] but you didn’t. not until it was too late for it to mean anything.

[grant] i would never think i've done everything right, but in the end, i've respected myself enough to make better choices and do something about the situation i was in, and i've had to do that because the adults in my life weren’t responsible or organized enough to fix things before responsibility fell into my hands.

[juhani] you are a braver and a better man than i.

[grant] i'm glad i am, but do you know how exhausting it is to be brave all the time?

[grant] i am because you weren’t. it is entirely because you failed. you weren’t brave enough to give a fuck about yourself or your kids, so i've had to be brave my entire life. brave enough to survive my childhood, then brave enough to leave. and guess what? i don’t want to be brave. i just want to exist. and back then, i just wanted to be a kid.

[grant] just a kid.

[grant] i wanted to come home from school and play with my pokemon cards and hear my mom and my dad say, “hi honey! how was your day? we love you!" i didn’t want to live in fear of what horror would befall me each and every day.

[grant] fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. you stole my childhood. you stole elizabeth’s childhood. you stole kelly’s childhood.

[grant] you and my mother, but you could have done something. you could have given us our childhoods back. you could have done something! you should have done something!

[grant] you didn’t have to do everything right even. parents mess up, i know that, but you could have at least tried. the bar was on the floor. i would have over the moon living in a single parent household with a father who at least showed up to my hockey games if he wasn’t busy at work and gave me a hug every once in a while.

[grant] and you know what, you did more than steal our childhoods. because you couldn’t stand to sacrifice your comfort long enough to take care of your kids, we all have to live in permanent hell. i have to spend the rest of my life freaking out when someone walks up behind me or speaks too loudly or–god forbid–touches me! it took me years to finally learn not to flinch when someone high fives me! and kelly–i don’t know what she deals with, but i know her life can’t be peaceful.

[grant] again, i am not blaming you for what my mother did–i know she was not kind to you either– but i do blame you for not even trying to stop her or get away from her. you were an adult with power, and you didn't use an ounce of it. actually, you did use it, just not for good. you threw me specifically under the bus because it was easier to let my mother use me as a punching bag than you.

[juhani] you’re right.

[juhani] you’re right, grant.

[grant] i have nothing else to say, short of "fuck you" again. i think i'm done yelling at you.

[grant] no, wait, one last thing. what did you even see in my mother in the first place? what was so enticing about her that you’d stay with her so long and ditch your college sweetheart for her?

[juhani] i don’t know. i don’t know anymore.

[grant] i guess it was two people drawn to each other's misery.

[grant] great. well, that’s all, folks.

[grant] good luck with the new family. maybe you can make it right with someone else and enjoy a totally fresh start because you will never make it right with me, and i will never let you forget what you did to me and my sisters. and don’t lose varpu again, by the way. she is, like, far out of your league–so far it's not even funny–and you are lucky to have this second chance with her and to have a good relationship with her kids.

[grant] also, just so it's clear, i don't want to speak to you anymore after this. don't call me, i won't call you either, except in one circumstance. i'll consider it on the day my mother kicks the bucket. we can toast to the end of that chapter of our lives and hope that the haunting ends. because surely you have to feel a little haunted, too, right? i have a sinking suspicion that’s why you reconnected with me. you don’t care about me. you care about that fresh start, about making yourself feel better about wasting your life and fucking up everyone around you.