#i’m going to bitter for months fuck them

[devilsskettle]

feeling so actively antisocial rn that i can’t even feel passively happy about pride. like great we get a month where people pretend to care about us before going back to either hating us or politely ignoring our existence. but it’s so fun that people get to go out and drink and dance and go to concerts and have fun with their friends!! not me though because i’m working forever and ever. but yay our shitty cishet manager got to see chappell roan. i’m sure that was so special for her

[little-shiny-sharpies]

*through gritted teeth* don’t trust how you feel about your life after 9 pm or during your monthly hell, don’t trust how you feel about your life after 9 pm or during your-

[classyrbf]

IS THERE SOMEONE ELSE! — GOJO SATORU

SYNOPSIS...you and gojo get into a fight after realizing that he’s been hiding something about your relationship the entire time

INFO...gojo x fem!reader, angsty, arguing, breaking up(?), not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

You slam the door to the penthouse, your heels clicking against the mahogany floors with each step. You toss your purse on the couch, hearing Gojo opening the front door and shutting it quickly. “Baby, please just listen to me.” He pleads, following after you.

“I don’t wanna hear your bullshit excuse, Satoru.” You roll your eyes, plopping down on the edge of the bed to relieve your sore feet of the heels you’ve been wearing all night to your boyfriends opening event he’s been planning for months now.

“I’m not trying to make excuses. Please.” He walks over towards you and toss your heel at him. “Stop throwing shit and just talk to me!”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do!” You stand to your feet, glaring daggers at him. “Do you know how embarrassing that was for me? God, you’re a fucking asshole.” You seethe, narrowing your eyes. “I sat there all alone, while you let some woman feel up on you the entire night? Are you out your fucking mind?” You scoff.

“She’s just an old friend, y/n. I swear I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” He shakes his head at you, grabbing onto your arms tightly.

“Oh, yeah? So I when I came up and introduced myself as your girlfriend none of your friends were looking at me like I was crazy? I know we’ve been only together for a year, Satoru, but that’s fucking low.” You pull away from him. “They didn’t even know who I was. Then you got miss prissy bitch clearly flirting with you in front of me and you didn’t do a damn thing to stop it!” You brush past him, stomping over towards the bathroom.

“Slow down, y/n! Baby—”

“I’m not your fucking ‘baby’, Satoru.” You gather all of your products from the bathroom, from your makeup and skincare to your clothes and shampoo.

“Stop for just one second.” He spins you around so you’re facing him. “Don’t leave. I swear you’re the only girl for me. I know I fucked up, I know I did. I embarrassed you, made you look stupid and I am so fucking sorry. But please do not leave.” He cups your face gently and his touch feels so inviting, but you can’t forgive him that easily. “I only want you. I only need you.”

You look up at him through your lashes, swallowing thickly as you bite the inside of your cheek. “Should’ve thought about that when you let her kiss your cheek and you smiled at her. Right in front of me. Get the fuck off of me.” You push him, rushing to grab your bag from the closet.

Gojo lets out a tired sigh, following you. He wasn’t going to let you go. Not like this. “I shouldn’t have let her near me.”

“Why was she so comfortable with being that close to you, huh?” You question, furrowing your brows as you turn to look at him. “Now that I think about it. Let me guess, you two were more than just friends.” You stand to your feet, snatching your clothes off the hangers and shoving them into your bag. He looks at you, opening his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. And from the look in his eyes, you already knew the truth. A bitter laugh leaves your lips, shaking your head in disappointment.

“It was before you! Before us! We never dated it was just a small thing between me and her!” He tried to explain. “Baby, I swear! Once I met you, everything changed. I cut her off and focused all my attention on you. You’re the only who has my heart.” He grabbed your wrist only for you to pull away.

“Clearly I ain’t the only who who’s got your dick, though.” You slam the closet door shut, turning your back towards him.

“Don’t say that, y/n. That’s the first time I’ve seen her in years!”

“Yeah? Well all your friends sure know about her. She must’ve been great in bed, Satoru. Me? Well, they looked at me like I was a fucking ghost!” You scoff. “Like I was some delusional bitch who came up to you and said I was your girlfriend!” You throw your hands up in disbelief. “You must take me for fucking joke. It must be written on my forehead or something!”

“I don’t take you for a joke! You’re my goddamn girlfriend. You live with me. You have my initial around your fucking neck! I love you and you know that!” He takes a step towards you.

“Do I know that?” You ask aloud, cocking your head to the side.

“What—of course I love you. What the fuck are you saying?” He looked at you with pure confusion.

“You’re a joke. One of your friends, Shoko, pulled me aside and told me the only reason you got with me is because your little fling ended up getting a boyfriend herself around the time we started dating. You’re a piece of shit.” You revealed the truth to him, watching him stare at you blankly, lost for words. “Think I wouldn’t find out?” You ripped off the necklace with his initial, tossing it at him.

“Yes, I was upset that she got a boyfriend but—”

“So you had feelings for her. And just to cover them up, you got with me as a distraction.” You step closer towards him. “Listen to me, Satoru, don’t ever try and contact me again, keep whatever fucking gifts you bought me and return them, sell them, do whatever because I am done,” you spoke through gritted teeth.

“No, no, no, baby. You can’t leave me. Yea I liked her before, but so fucking what? I was never in love with her, not like I am with you. I was too fucking stupid. I still am! Just give me another chance to fix this. I don’t want us to end this way.” He grabs your packed bag from your hands and tosses it on the bed.

“Let me go, Satoru.”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I can’t. You’re everything to me. She’s nothing compared to you.” He sniffles, holding your hands in his. “I love you so much and I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you the truth. I’m sorry I embarrassed you. And I’m sorry for entertaining the idea that she could even come close to you. She can’t.” His hands cupped your face, his heart pounding in anticipation as he waited to hear any words from you.

You reached up, pulling his hands away from your face. “Bye, Satoru.” You walked past him, grabbing your bag off of the bed. As much as it hurt to leave, you knew you had to respect yourself. Time and space was what you needed to think. With each step out the door, you could hear Gojo’s sobs, something you’ve never heard before in the year you’ve been with him. For the strong, flashily and confident man he is, you never once thought you’d see or him break down. Especially not for you.

[darkbluekies]

In the hands of a madman 2024 ver

Doctor!yandere oc x reader

Summary: a doctor is very peculiar about his favorite patient, and senses a threat once they disobey him.

Warnings: yandere, poison, murder, cuff restraints

Word count: 2.4k

You gag.

“Yes, yes, I know”, he coos, grimacing and removes the wooden stick out of your mouth. “I’m sorry.”

You're left with a bitter taste in your mouth. Why does he always stick that thing as far down your throat as humanly possible? You thank heavens that it’s not one of the needles extracting blood from your arm, although you’re sure that’s what’s waiting tomorrow.

“Still nothing?” you ask cautiously. 

He meets your eyes and you know immediately. You sigh heavily. Your heart sinks to your stomach. 

Every three months, he’s doing all sorts of tests to see if you’re getting better — or what’s what he’s saying. Every three months, Dr Kry has to check every vital sign on you to make sure that his sickness isn’t getting out of his control. But you don’t like them. They hurt. Badly.

“Will I ever get to go home? I want to.” 

Dr Kry sighs and sits down on his rolling stool, coming over to your bed.

“I know you do, but you that’s not possible”, he says apologetically. “You know that too.”

“Yeah, because you keep reminding me”, you mutter. 

“That’s better than giving you false hope, isn’t it? Wouldn’t that drive you insane?”

It would, but you don’t say it out loud. Doesn’t need to.

“I want to go home!” you say again, louder this time. 

“Saying it louder won’t make you better or me change my mind”, Dr Kry says. 

You sigh and press your palms to your eyes, trying to press the tears back into your eyes before they escape. You’ve been here for too long by now. You’ve been isolated for so incredibly long. ALl you want is to go home. You know no one, talk to no one beside him. The proper, sophisticated man who’s stiffer than a stick. Dr Kry sighs and moves closer. 

“I know that you’re disappointed”, he says and puts his large hand on your shoulder. “But this is for the best. “I don’t want you to get worse.”

“I hate these fucking tests! They hurt.”

“I know.”

He glances towards the white air purifier on the shelf beside the bed. The poisoned air purifier. He’s always making sure it’s not too much, not too little. Just the exact amount to keep you where he wants you — weak and vulnerable, dependent on him. 

“I know it’s hard”, he says encouragingly. “I know that you’re in pain, but you’re doing so good. You can always call for me if you need me, okay? I’m available all day and night for you.”

You press forward a smile, but can’t help but feel a wave of sadness wash over you. Why did this happen to you? Where did you go wrong to end up here? How could a sore throat get you bed bound in a hospital room? If only you knew. 

“Let’s get you tucked in again”, Dr Kry says and helps you lie down in bed. “You shouldn’t be putting to much pressure on your body.”

He pushes up your pillows, having you lie in a 45-degree angle. It helps you breathe at night. He always tucks the blanket close to your body, as if you were a butterfly in a cocoon. He gives you a small smile before standing up. 

“Please don’t go”, you whisper. “I don’t want to be left here.”

The man looks at you, studies you carefully before nodding and sitting back down. He wipes your lonely tear with his finger. He looks at his wet finger, thinking. 

“I feel helpless”, you admit. “I don’t think I’ll ever get well again.”

Little do you know that’s exactly what he wants. 

“It’s okay, Y/N”, he says. “I will take care of you. I will stay with you until you’re well again.”

He has to force back a smile. 

“I don’t want to do these anymore”, you say monotonously. 

“I know you don’t, but you have to”, Dr Kry says apologetically and moves closer to the bed on his rolling stool. “They’re important.”

“They hurt …”

“I know, but you’re doing so good, okay? I’m so proud of you.”

You give him a small, painful smile. 

“I’ll sit here until you fall asleep, don’t worry”, he says. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You close your eyes slowly. He fades out. 

He takes blood tests the following day. Needles, pain.

“Now, you need to take a nap”, he says and tucks you in. 

The daily afternoon nap. You hate it, but he insists. While you sleep, he’s out taking care of other patients that are not you. He hates it, hates wasting his time and skill on people that aren’t you. Those patients are one time patients that are there for surgeries, consultations or checkups. No long term patients that have to stay in the hospital. Everyone gets to leave after he meets them. Everyone but you. You stay. 

You keep your eyes closed until Dr Kry leaves the room. Quickly, you sit up and get out of bed. After all these fucking tests, you’re deserving of something else than the tasteless cardboard Dr Kry gets you. Just one brownie. Something that has sugar. And maybe some coffee for caffeine too. 

Quietly, you sneak out into the corridor. There’s something about these sterile passageways that makes the hair on your back stand on its end. Is it the dehumanized area or the fact that you’re never allowed here? Is it nerves or excitement? Whatever it is, you decide to speed up your steps and hurry towards the elevators before anyone sees you. They’ll tell him. Just as the doors are about to close, someone stops the doors. A boy dressed in a similar hospital gown as yourself forces his way into the elevator. He gives you a rushed, apologetic smile. 

“Sorry”, he says sheepishly. “I am in a hurry.”

“What happened to you?” you ask and smile halfly. 

“I escaped from the therapist. A real pain in my ass.”

You can’t help but giggle. The young man licks his lips and runs a hand through his hair. 

“Have you met her?” he asks. “The therapist?”

“No”, you say. 

You haven’t met anyone but your stiff and proper doctor. 

“Don’t”, the young man advices you and leans his back against the wall. “She’s mental. I honestly think she should be the one getting interrogated — not me.” He looks at you, eyes narrowing. “I haven’t seen you before.”

“Do you meet others?” you ask. 

“In the lounge. Have you been there?”

You shake your head and lower your eyes. 

“Did you just arrive?” the man asks. 

You shake your head again. 

“How long have you been here?”

“A while.”

The elevator stops and the doors open at your floor. 

“Are you going to the cafeteria?” the man asks. 

“Yes”, you reply. 

“I’m coming with you. Maybe you can help me blend in.”

“Okay.”

The boy seems frantic, but happy. Running on adrenaline and excitement. Together, you walk through the hospital to the cafeteria and realize that you don’t have any money. Your shoulders fall. Did you come here for nothing? 

“Aren’t you going to order something?” the young man asks. 

“I don’t know”, you reply quietly. 

Before you have the time to come up with a lie why you can’t order anything, you recognise something in the corner of your eye. A blonde man dressed in a white robe. You feel your blood run cold. 

“What do we have here?” Dr Kry asks and you have a hard time reading his tone or facial expressions. “What do you think you are doing out of bed?”

He walks over to you and grabs your shoulder. You flinch. His grip is … tight. Painful. 

“You’re supposed to rest”, Dr Kry says shortly.

He looks at the young man. His eyes seem to go right through him. 

“Where are you supposed to be?” he asks. 

He doesn’t answer. Dr Kry gives him a cold gaze before grabbing your upper arm in a tight grip. He doesn’t say anything as he starts to pull you with him. His steps are quick, steady. Angry. 

“Doctor …”, you try.

He doesn’t answer. Dr Kry pushes you into the elevator and presses the button. He doesn't let go of your arm.

“Doctor, I’m sorry”, you say. 

He still doesn’t answer. You barely dare to look at him. There’s something about his face that scares you. It's stoic, unreadable. But he oozes anger. Like a dark cloud.

The elevator stops, the doors open. His tight grip remains as he drags you back into your room.

“Lay down”, he instructs shortly.

You do, too scared to disobey. Dr Kry walks past you, to the drawers by your bed. He rips out two leather bands that look like belts for dolls. Before you're aware of what he's doing, he's strapped one of your wrists to the bed railing.

“Wait, doctor-”, you blurt out.

“Be quiet.”

He locks your other wrist to the other railing. You tug at the restraints, and find them secure.

“Are they too tight?” Dr Kry asks, still with that short tone that sends icy needles down your spine.

“Doctor, what are you-?”

“Answer the question. Do they hurt?”

“No.”

“Good.”

He turns to his desk, ignoring you.

“Doctor, I'm sorry”, you say.

“You broke my trust”, he says without giving you any attention. “It's important, for your healing, that you do not deceive me. I need to be able to trust that you do as I say. How many times have you done this?”

“Only this time, I promise.”

He doesn't answer. You feel how your eyes fill with tears. Your body is in such a vulnerable state that your body betrays you. You didn't want to upset him, didn't want to put your own health at risk by doing this. 

“I'm sorry, doctor”, you sniffle. “I didn't mean to break your trust.”

He sighs and turns his head to look at you. His blue eyes soften and he rises from his chair, coming over to your bed. He can't stay mad at you, not when you're clearly dumb. You don't understand, he can't be mad at you for not understanding. He should — and is — mad at himself for not foreseeing these situations and making sure you don't do it.

“You know that I only want what's best for you, don't you?” he asks and wipes your tears with his hand.

“Yes”, you reply.

“In that case, I want you to never repeat this mistake. Mistakes are forgivable, but they should be minimized, do you understand that?”

“Yes. Do you forgive me?”

He has to force back a smile. You're so unbelievably cute.

“Yes, I do forgive you”, he says. 

“Can you take off the restraints?”

“No. I might forgive you, but I need you to know what happens once mistakes occur. This is the consequences that follow. If I can't trust you to be where I want you to be, I need to take precautions to make sure you are.”

You lower your gaze.

“Who was that, by the way?” he asks. “That young … man. Why did you speak to him?”

“I don't know, he took the same elevator as me.”

“I don't want you to speak with him again. If he's the one they're looking for, I don't want you getting influenced by his reckless ideas.”

“I don't get to speak to anyone, anyways.”

“And that's how it should be. We don't know why you're sick, and you shouldn't contaminate someone else.”

“What about you, then? You can get sick too.”

“I'm ready to take that risk.”

He's too nice, you think. All he wants is to take care of you and you put his selfless risks to hell when you decide to disobey him. How horrible of you.

“Now, you need to take that nap for real”, he says. “I will sit by my desk. If you need something you can just let me know.”

He walks back to his desk and sits down, starting to file some paperwork. You tug at the restraints. You're not going anywhere.

When you’ve fallen asleep, Dr Kry makes his way through the hospital. They’ve captured that young man and put him back into his room … and Dr Kry wants a talk with him. He opens the door quietly. The young lays in bed, sleeping. Dr Kry circles around him, taking a good look at him. Did you find him cute? Hot? Did you like talking to him? Did you think that he was better than him? Did you enjoy those ten minutes with him more than these months with Kry? Do you want to meet with him again? He glares at the sleeping man. Dr Kry walks over to the supply closet, an identical to the one in your room, and takes out one of the spare pillows. Silently, he walks over to the bed, lifts the pillow and presses it over the young man’s face. He widen his eyes, pulled out of his slumber. He screams against the pillow, his voice getting muffled in the fabric. 

“Normally, I’d make this easy for you”, Dr Kry grunts as the man starts to fight against him. “Out of pity, but you don’t deserve that mercy.”

He screams in confusion, fear. Dr Kry can make out words. What. No. Help. Stop.

“Just give in and give yourself that mercy”, Dr Kry continues. “If you continue to fight against me, you’ll be in more pain.”

The man cries. Dr Kry breaks out into a smile. 

“You’re going to die either way, you can choose to end it quicker.”

The young man doesn’t seem to get the memo. He continues to fight, cry, plead. He drinks it all in. The horror, the helplessness. The dear in headlight. He has seen the light in people’s eyes disappear multiple times during his job as a doctor. To see the moment someone becomes just a piece of flesh. He has never enjoyed it as much as now. The man stops moving. Dr Kry removes the pillow and takes a step back, looking at the lifeless body. He breathes out. Finally, he can calm down. 

And now, all he needs to do is to make sure he can not be traced back. 

He finds you sleeping soundly as he comes back to your room, wrists still locked to the sides of the bed. You make his heart ache. He sits down beside you, brushing his fingertips over your cheek. 

I control your life, my little one. You’re going to say with me and I’ll take every repercussion to make sure you don’t disappear. 

[so-sick-of-17]

Okay so I just reblogged that Isabella post and that made me think of the Isabella’s I know and I remembered my kindergarten best friend and this one girl I was friends with in second grade(although I think she might have been Isabelle) and I felt like I was missing someone for a second and then accepted that I wasn’t and that was all. I legit forgot about the existence of my ex best friend named Isabella who ghosted me for months before text dumping me and ending 8 years of friendship. This happened 4 months ago and caused my self esteem to drop and made me feel like complete shit and is part of the reason my depression got so bad. She made me feel miserable for months and hurt me very badly and I forgot about her existence. Oh my god that is a wonderful feeling! I’m playing I Forgot That You Existed by Taylor Swift to celebrate. She hates Taylor Swift too so that is especially awesome. Fuck You Izzy! Yes!

[prettyfastcars]

back to you | Mob!Lando

Summary: Weeks after your break up, you show up at his place to give him back the stuff he left behind at your apartment. But what was supposed to be a brief, quick interaction turns into something else… 

Themes: smut, explicit language, exes-to-lovers, fluff, daddy kink, mob!lando

He had already been alerted the moment your car pulled up to his property gates, so finding you at his doorstep was not too much of a surprise. 

But he pretended it was. “And what are you doing here?” 

You couldn’t ignore the bitterness in his voice. It was too obvious. Part of you knew you deserved it too. After all, you were the one who wanted to break up in the first place. You had no business being here again. 

“I came to drop your stuff. I’m moving into my new place and I found these.” You purposely avoided his eyes, choosing to look down at the box in your hands instead. But even then you could feel his burning stare on you. 

He didn’t say a single thing, he just opened the door wider and let you into his home. A home you’d lived in for months. It felt weird being back. You followed him from the foyer till into the living room area where you placed the box down on the closest surface you could find. 

Lando peeked into the box and scoffed, “So you came all this way just to give me my hoodies back?” 

You were quick to answer. “Well I didn’t want them in my new home.” 

He smirked when you finally looked up at him. “And you couldn’t just throw them in the trash?” 

You were quiet for a second or two. Of course you could’ve. But you were here solely for selfish purposes. You wanted to see him again. So you partially lied and said, “I’m just being polite, okay?” 

“Polite.” He repeated under his breath. 

Then he tilted his head to the side in that way which made him seem just a little unhinged. It only added to his overall dark look. Dark suit even this late in the evening, messy hair which looked like he had run his fingers through it too many times which means that he’d probably just gotten off a stressful phone call. 

“How was that date you went on last night?” He asked out of nowhere. 

Ah shit. Of course he knew. He had eyes all over this city. “You’re spying on me now?” You tried to stand your ground. 

He shoved his hands into his pockets and gave you a bored look. Even then he looked handsome. Arrogant, and authoritative, but handsome. Even when he barely tried. “Answer me.” 

You got a little defensive, taking a step back and away from him as you said, “You have no right to ask me about my personal life.” 

“Oh?” He spoke, in a dangerously calm voice. You watched how he slowly walked towards where you stood. You instinctively took some slow steps back until you hit the wall. Lando stopped only when he was right in front of you. He took the liberty to cage you in between his arms, discreetly shoving his knee in between yours to keep you from moving. “I have no right?” He questioned, “And you think you have the right to just walk in and out of my life whenever you want?” 

You didn’t miss the annoyance in his voice. Bitter annoyance, and something else you couldn’t decipher. But his voice was doing things to your brain. Bringing back memories of the days when he used that tone with you right before taking you to bed. You argued, “I’m just here to give you back your things and–,” 

“That’s it?” He cut you off. Smirking as he pointed out, “Then why are you rubbing yourself against my thigh, huh?” 

You immediately stopped. And only then realised that you’d been shamelessly grinding against his thigh the moment he shoved it in between your legs. Like a desperate woman. Your face felt hot as you tried to avoid his eyes but it was impossible since he had you trapped between his body and the wall behind you. 

“Why’d you stop?” He teased. “Keep going.” Then leaned in closer to your ear and whispered, “Be honest to yourself at least. You came here to get fucked good, didn’t you?” 

“No.” You lied. 

He saw right through it. “No?” Then chuckled, and said, “That guy from last night, did he not make it good enough for you? Hmm? Did he not take care of you how you like it?” He spoke, pressing his leg in between yours even more, pressing up against your throbbing clit even through all the layers of clothing. 

You held back a moan and explained, “We didn’t sleep together. He dropped me home and that was it.” 

“I know that was it.” He cooed. “He’d be dead if he touched you.” He said it so casually. 

His words should’ve made you want to run away. You had no business here after all. You should leave. But did you want to? Absolutely not. And you didn’t move. Your breathing deepened, as did his. And suddenly you couldn’t look away from his stare. 

The memories came flooding in. His face was so close to yours, his mouth, those lips… 

“Please.” You caught yourself murmuring, your hands roaming slowly all over his clothed chest. From his abdomen to his broad shoulders, and back down. Fuck, you’d missed him. 

“Please what?” He barked. 

You nearly whined as you pressed your chest against his, seeking his touch, his warmth. “Please,” You whispered again against his neck, his warm skin driving you insane. 

“Hey,” He whispered softly, his hand coming up to grab your face by the chin, “Look at me.” When you finally looked at him he said, “You know I can give you what you want, babygirl. Just ask for it. Use that pretty mouth and tell daddy what you want. Anything you want, baby. You can have it.” 

You blinked slowly, your brain totally foggy with lust as you whispered, “I want you.” 

“Yeah?” He cooed. “You drove all this way for me?” 

You nodded, “Missed you so much,” Your lips brushed against his as you spoke, yearning for his touch. 

“Poor baby,” He moved his mouth to the side so you couldn’t kiss him just yet. And he loved the way you whined at the denial. “Say it then. Say you want me back.” 

You obliged immediately, “I want you back. Please.” 

He chuckled. And the sound of it was like a warning. You knew you were in trouble then. 

“But didn’t you say I was too much?” He asked, throwing your own words back at you. Words you’d said to him that night you broke up with him and left this place, weeks ago. “Didn’t you say I was too controlling?” He leaned in to rub the tip of his nose along your throat, giving you goosebumps. “Too possessive? Too jealous?” He kissed his way up till he reached your mouth, whispering against your lips, “You said I was toxic, remember? That I was bad for you? And now you want me back?” He pulled away just enough to look deep into your eyes. He was pissed. 

“I’m sorry,” You said, giving him your best pleading look. 

He mocked you, “Oh? You’re sorry?”

You nodded. “Please, Lando. I’ve missed you.” 

“Or did you just miss the way I fucked you?” 

Fine. You deserved that. But you gave him your best puppy dog look and he shook his head, looking away immediately because even he knew those were his weakness. He waited for a second before looking back at you and you were still giving him that look and he sighed in frustration, “No, no, no don’t give me that look.” He reasoned. “You did this. You did this to us. You said you wanted to break up. You said you needed space.” He accused you. 

Your hands tried pulling him closer, but he resisted. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.” You whispered, pleading again. 

He scoffed, “It doesn’t work like that, you brat. If you’re truly sorry, you’re gonna have to show me just how sorry you are.” 

You found yourself on your knees in front of him shortly after. Him holding you by the back of your neck as he eased himself into your mouth, filling it with his cock. 

“This is where you belong, huh? This is my babygirl’s happy place, isn’t it?” 

You tried to nod, but couldn’t. He just smirked and pushed himself deeper into your mouth, pulling out and then back in again. 

“You missed this, didn’t you?” He asked, “You missed not having to use your little brain and instead just doing what I tell you? Hmm?”  

Damn it. You’d missed these little games. How easily he could make you forget that a whole world existed outside. How easily he could take control and give you just what you wanted and needed. 

You whined as you sucked on his cock. He closed his eyes and hissed in pleasure, murmuring how good your mouth felt, lips parted and gasping as he tilted his head back. He looked like a god. And you couldn’t stop staring. 

“Fuck, baby…” He groaned as you quickened your pace. He thrust his hips forward gently into your mouth, and the sounds which escaped his lips made you squirm. You could feel the wetness gathering in your underwear. “Make me come, go on. Be a good girl, make daddy come. Show me how sorry you are.” 

You squirmed and clenched your thighs together at the sound of the desperation in his voice. Your short dress did nothing to hide your actions. And those words were all it took for you to suck on his cock until he came undone all over your tongue. 

He came with a moan and a sigh, closing his eyes and relishing the warmth of your mouth wrapped around him. You swallowed all of him, licked him clean and stood back up. He smirked and wrapped his hand around your throat. 

“You did good, babygirl.” He murmured and finally pressed his mouth to yours as he walked you towards the nearest couch. 

He kissed you passionately, tongue pushing past your lips and stroking the top of your mouth as he pushed you down onto the couch and straddled your body. He hummed at the taste of him on your tongue, it was all too dirty, filthy, raw and it made you whimper and tremble against him. 

He slipped his hand under your dress and wasted no time in running his knuckles up and down your dripping cunt, touching you through the drenched underwear. He chuckled. “So fucking desperate, aren’t you?” his raspy voice whispered in your ear. “Drove all the way here under the excuse that you were returning my stuff back. I bet you had this whole thing planned in your pretty little head, huh? How you were gonna come here and seduce me, and give me that ‘fuck-me’ look with your pretty eyes. You knew I couldn’t possibly resist you, babygirl.” 

“Lando…” You whimpered as he pushed his fingers inside you, gently stroking your walls and stretching you out. You whined at his touch and threw your head back, and moaned. His grip around your throat tightened a little more and he growled when he felt your walls clench around his fingers. 

“Is this all you wanted?” He asked, and sped up, his fingers slipping in and out of you so perfectly that you moaned out loud. You were dripping all over his hand and possibly the couch as well, but neither of you cared. “I had a long day at work, you know,” He whispered, kissing along your jaw softly, “I had to deal with all these stupid people. I almost punched a guy because he was pissing me off, then I came home for some peace and quiet, but you don’t care about all that, do you? Hmm?” He purposely slowed his fingers down to make you whine louder. “All you care about is getting fucked by me. All because those useless boys you go out on dates with don’t do it for you, do they?” 

You whined, unable to take the sweet torture any longer, desperately trying to grind against his hand. “Please,” You begged, looking up at him with those eyes again. 

He scoffed, pulled his fingers out of you but kept your legs spread apart beneath him so he could just watch how wet you were for him. “Tell me why I shouldn’t ask you to leave right now.” He leaned down, till his face was right above yours. “Do you know how pissed I was when I found out you’ve been going out on dates?” 

“It was one date!” You clarified. Not that it did much. He was just as pissed. So you added, in a bratty tone you were certain he hated. “Am I supposed to believe you haven’t been with anyone since I left?” 

That made him tighten his grip around your throat. “Say that again, I fucking dare you.” He hissed. Not knowing that it only turned you on even more. “Come on,” He urged, “Use that fucking tone again.” 

You were breathing heavily, and so was he. By now you could feel his erection pressing against your lower belly and it was torture. “Lando, please.” You begged again. 

“You never fucking learn, do you?” He held himself above you with one hand while the other rapidly undid his trousers. You helped him in lowering the zipper and lowering his underwear just enough so his cock was free, and hard. “It’s all my fault, isn’t it? Spoiled you too much.” 

You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, your dress bunching up around your hips as he slowly slid inside you. You were gasping and moaning as he did, hands holding on to his shoulders when he began moving in and out of you. It was all too familiar. His body moving against yours, the feeling of him inside you, his warm breath against your cheek, his weight on top of you. 

His thrusts were relentless. Angry even. “I fucking missed you too.” He murmured against your mouth. “Daddy missed this little cunt of yours, and this bratty mouth.” He fucked you hard, earning more and more moans out of you each time his cock stroked your walls. 

“Fuck,” You panted, squirming under him while he toyed with your breasts through the thin material of your dress. Your back arched in pleasure as his hands grabbed you wherever he could, holding you in place as much as he could while he pounded into you. You felt so full of his cock it was unbearably good.

“Your wet little cunt feels so good around me, babygirl…” he murmured, voice low and hazy in pleasure. He groaned as he felt your walls milking him and squeezing him just right. “So good…” 

You felt like you were losing your mind. The pleasure was overwhelming, the feeling of his warm body pressing down onto yours and the feeling of his cock ramming in and out of you, stretching you out deliciously, you couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Lando…” you moaned, your mind getting foggier and foggier with each passing second. He slammed in and out of you continuously, staring deep into your eyes. Tears fell out of your eyes as the pleasure became too much to handle. His stare was too intense. His touch was too hot. But you still wanted more of him. “Fuck, I love you.” You blurted out. 

Your thoughts were a mess. You didn’t notice the moment he frowned in surprise, or how he froze for like half a second before continuing. You squirmed in pleasure as both his hands gripped your hips, keeping you in place as he filled you up each time. 

He pushed his face into your neck out of habit. “Say that again, baby. I need to hear you say it again.” He spoke, speeding up even more. Lewd sounds coming from both of you as he fucked you. 

“I…” You gasped, “I love you.” 

He chuckled. “Yeah?” 

You nodded quickly. “And I’ll be good, I promise. Just… make me come. Please...” 

He pulled away to look down at you, gold chain hanging from his neck as he said, “Come for me, baby.” 

He slowed down a little, but fucked deeper into you. Just how you liked it. Slow, deep strokes. He held you stare the whole time. Until you came undone, gasping and whimpering with your walls clenching around him.  

A few strokes later, he came as well. Filling you up, and not even bothering to pull out before he collapsed on top of you, both of you trying to catch your breath. He nuzzled your neck like he always did. 

You were both dishevelled and in serious need of some warm towels to clean up but neither one of you made a move to get up. 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, running your fingers through his now damp hair. “I thought I was doing the right thing but… I was miserable without you.” 

Lando was quiet for a moment. Then said, “I’m sorry too. I know I can be a lot to handle at times. I’ll work on that. I promise. Just don’t leave again.” 

“I won’t.” You said quickly. “I’m not going anywhere. We’ll fix this.” 

“Good. We will.” 

Then a moment later you said, “You didn’t say it back.” 

“What?” He asked. 

“I said I loved you earlier, you didn’t say it back.” 

He chuckled. Genuinely this time, sounding like he hadn’t laughed in a long time. He pulled away to look down at you again. “I love you,” He said, then quietly added, “Brat.” Then leaned in for a proper kiss. 

[whimsyfinny]

How to Avoid the Love of Your Life

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: (Y/n) had spent the last four years of her life avoiding him, but when her and Dean inevitably cross paths again it could go one of two ways - either really good, or really bad.

Warnings: Language, angst (so much fucking angst I'm sorry), Smut, PinV, Fingering, Oral (F receiving), Overstimulation, Dean being a sex God, reader being anxious, bad breakup, reader having a gun

MDNI! 18+

Word Count: 8200 (wtf I'm sorry I got carried away)

A/N: Here it is! I'm sooooo sorry @jackles010378 that this took so long. I would've had it up last week but my kid got sick and I had to learn how to solo parent hahaha. Anyway, this is the final competition oneshot, and I hope you enjoy it!

“Well well, what do we have here?”

A voice that I knew all too well reached my ears through the crowd of people in the bar. The deep tone of his voice immediately brought goosebumps to my skin and a small smirk to my lips. I straightened where I stood besides the pool table, lowering the cue and leaning on it lazily as I turned to the direction the voice had come from.

“Dean Winchester,” I let my eyes travel over his rugged form; taking in the faint new scars on his face, his weather-beaten jacket and distinctive choice of plaid and denim. He looked virtually the same as he did when I last saw him four years ago - just older. His eyes now holding more haunting memories than any man should ever have to keep locked away in the depths of ones mind.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” I asked with the tilt of my head as he took a step closer, ignoring the bustling of people trying to get past him to order more drinks.

“You know why we’re here,” he pushed his hands into his pockets as he took another step, slowly creeping closer.

“Hmm,” I hummed, reaching for my beer and taking a sip, letting the bitter bubbles sit on my tongue for a moment before swallowing them down.

“So, I take it this has nothing to do with coming for that falsely promised personal visit, and all to do with the pack of werewolves that have moved in across town?” I jabbed the beer bottle in his direction, feeling the smile on my face lose its warmth. Dean sighed and looked at his boots, and when he’d pondered on his answer, ready to verbalise it, I cut him off.

“Jody has been doing her fucking best to keep shit safe around here with the skills you taught her. The least you could do is check in a couple of times a week - visit once a month.”

“Listen sweetheart-”

“I don’t need to hear how you saved the world five hundred times this week. I don’t need to hear it second hand from other hunters. I need to hear it from you. She needs to hear that you’re ok. We all do.”

Dean looked up, his eyes meeting mine, clouded by a regretful shadow.

“(Y/n) I’m sorry. Life has been so fucking messed up and sometimes I don’t even know what fucking month it is. I’ll do better. Me and Sam - we’ll be better.”

I stared at him intently, reassuring myself that he wasn’t saying ‘he’d be better’ if he didn’t mean it. He’d fed me empty lies wrapped in colourful silk in the past and I’d unwrapped every one with a hopeful heart, disappointment following every single one of them. People live and they learn, and I was no exception.

“If you’re not better, for Jodys sake - for Claire and Alex and even Donna - then I will never forgive you.” I stared at Dean long enough to feel the frustration towards him start to simmer in my veins, reminding me why I did what I did all those years ago. I was willing to endure him for my family’s sake despite hating that stupid pedestal they’d put him on - hating how in their eyes, he could do no wrong.

If only they could see him through my eyes.

The sound of long-strided footsteps and a familiar voice exclaiming “oh shit” snapped me from my festering thoughts, and I looked up to see Sam walk up and stand next to Dean.

“Sam!” I smiled, his face the picture of apprehension as he nervously smiled back.

“H-hey (Y/n), it’s been a while. I’m surprised to see you.”

I raised an eyebrow and looked around the room incredulously before locking eyes with him again.

“Surprised to see me? Drinking in a bar, in my hometown? Where you guys know that I live? I know, right? Who would’ve thunk it.”

Sam shifted nervously, like he wanted to whisper something to his brother or simply whisk him away to a booth where they could sip beers, work a case and ogle waitresses. I sighed out a mentally exhausted breath - the presence of the Winchesters flooding my mind with memories of a better time - a simpler time. Dean was right about one thing - that life was messed up.

“Look, I’m clearly keeping you boys from your secret club meeting. I promise to behave if you do too,” I eyed them, waiting for them to accept the proposal of peace. Sam nodded, offering a few lacklustre words of poor convincing whilst Dean just stared at me, his lips twitching into a slight smirk, his eyes swimming in defiance.

“You’ve never been one to behave yourself, have you? Let's see how long this lasts.”

“Fuck you, Dean.”

Sam pulled Dean away before any more weaponised words could be fired, Deans lips forever holding that slap-worthy grin as he eventually turned his back and headed to the other side of the bar.

For the whole evening I could feel eyes on my back and a prickle on my skin. No matter what I did or how much I tried to distract myself - I was so hyper-aware that the Winchesters were sitting at a table just across the room. Every time I turned my back or walked to the bar, I could feel myself scrutinised under an unwanted observation. As I politely turned down the offer of a drink from a handsome stranger, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I reached to answer it, my palms growing sweaty when I saw the name flash on the screen.

“Hey Jody,” I fought to keep my voice steady, my previous frustrations starting to bubble to the surface again.

“Hey (Y/n)! You’re never going to guess who’s in town!”

My teeth immediately clenched and I shot a glare over to where the brothers were sitting, watching Dean tuck his phone back into his pocket and drop his head into his hands.

When I failed to utter a single word at Jody’s excited proclamation, she instantly caught on.

“Oh shit, you know already, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“You at the bar?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you spoken to him?”

“I feel like I spoke at him, which counts I guess.”

Despite knowing my inner conflictions, she chuckled slightly.

“You give him a piece of your mind?”

“Yup,” I sighed, running a hand over my face, “I think I’m going to have to keep my distance from him, Jody. Just seeing him - looking at him after all these years - it hurts. It fucking hurts and he doesn’t realise how much he messed me up with everything that he did and said,” I could feel that all too familiar burn in my eyes as I fought desperately against the tears; biting my lip to stop it from trembling. When I gave my emotions away with a not-so-discrete sniff, Jody’s more sympathetic side emerged.

“Aw sweet girl, I know it’s hard. Do you want me to come and get you?”

I shook my head despite knowing she couldn’t see me and wiped away a rogue tear.

“No it’s ok, I think I just need to be alone. Plus I know you - you want to spend some time and catch up with them, which is fine and I get it. It’s just not something I can be there for right now,” I lifted my head and looked through the crowd of people, watching how Sam talked to Dean and Dean fiddled with his beer bottle again. I looked down before he could see me, though I knew he would be able to pick me out of any crowd anywhere within a matter of minutes. I hated that he knew me so well.

“If you’re sure, you know where we are if you need anything.”

“I know, thanks Jody. And… I’m sorry for making this so complicated for you. I know you have no reason to hate him, and I don’t like putting you in the middle like this.”

“(Y/n) I get it sweetheart, you have nothing to apologise for. Just…” she paused, as though debating if her words were worth saying.

“Just what?”

“Just don't do anything stupid,” I could hear the slight amusement in her voice despite her words of caution. I chuckled slightly, wiping away another tear.

“You know me - I can’t make that promise. Bye Jody, see you later.”

After the farewell I hung up the phone, deciding some fresh air would help me to cool my head.

I'd barely taken five steps out the bars entrance and into the parking lot when the harsh sound of rowdy chatter drew my attention. Snapping my head towards it, cold blood filled my veins at the sight in the shadows - the gut wrenching sight of a small group of men huddling together and attempting to steal a car.

To steal Baby.

The cold sensation of dread quickly transformed into the heat of fury as my blood started to boil at the sheer audacity of the thieving group, now doing their best to stay out of the glow of the street lamp. They were lucky it was me that had found them and not Dean, as the latter would have dropped every single one of them by now and not left a soul breathing. I know Dean and I no longer had any sort of relationship, but when we did, this car had been witness to every moment. Baby saw every smile, laugh, and happy tear shared between Dean and I, along with petty lovers quarrels and raw moments of lust filled passion. I'd lost count of how many times we'd steamed up those back windows since we were teenagers and Dean stole the car from his old man for our first date. Then there were the long rides from case to case - Sam and I arguing over who rode shotgun - with Metallica blasting from the speakers, windows rolled down and the wind wisping every worry away as we belted our lungs out. Those were the best moments of my life. In that car. And I'd be damned if I let some dive bar fuckheads steal her.

With zero hesitation I pulled out the gun tucked into my boot and fired three warning shots to the sky before aiming my piece at them, wary that they might also be packing.

“Get away from the FUCKING car - NOW!”

The anger in my voice was a deadly warning as the group turned to me like rabbits in the headlights before turning tail and bolting - one of them dropping a hefty crowbar in the process. As I lowered my gun when they fled, I turned around at the sound of hurried footsteps thumping on the gravel behind me.

“What the hell is going on?” Dean had arrived at my side before Sam and he reached to rest a hand on the small of my back; guided by muscle memory. I turned to face him, a small crowd gathering outside the bar to witness the fleeting commotion. As Sam arrived I explained, my voice harbouring a slight tremble of adrenaline and frustration.

“Some assholes tried to steal Baby-”

“WHAT?!” Deans voice filled with horror, yet his hand remained on my back.

“But you- you're ok right? They didn't hurt you?”

“What? No, I'm fine.”

With my confirmation he withdrew his hand and doubled over, resting his palms on his knees and dropped his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Ugh thank fuck - you scared the shit out of me.”

Sam, who appeared shortly after Dean, patted him on the back and flashed me a split-second grin, the glint lingering in his eyes.

“Yeah, I don't think I've seen Dean move so fast - like… ever.”

I couldn't stop the soft, airy laugh leaving my lungs, a memory flooding my mind.

“I think the fastest I ever saw him move was when we used to hunt with your dad, and Dean took the car without permission. John ended up stranded at that god-awful motel for six hours after we accidentally fell asleep in the layby-”

“Oh god, was that the motel with those raccoons?” Dean stood up straight, the memory seeming to light up his face as he looked me straight in the eye, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin.

“Yes - oh my GOD those raccoons were awful,” I started to chuckle and I could tell Dean was holding it in.

“Raccoons?” Sam asked, looking between us with a raised eyebrow. I opened my mouth to explain but Dean beat me to it.

“In every corner of each room there was a taxidermy raccoon, however the person who taxidermied them obviously had no idea what an actual raccoon looked like.”

“Most of them had eyes that were too close together and their bodies were way too long - like some sort of ferret-raccoon hybrid,” I chimed in, the memory bringing warmth to my chest at the comical idiocy of it all.

“I remember dad turned his so they faced the wall and away from the bed,” Dean let out a small laugh, managing to pull one from Sam as well as we slowly made our way over to the car, my gun returned to the holster in my boot.

“I'm pretty sure that was the first and last thing that ever gave John Winchester genuine heebie jeebies,” I looked up at Sam's disbelieving expression.

“And your brother hid his in the bottom of the closet.”

Dean grimaced before chuckling again.

“They had tiny little ferret-raccoon buttcheeks.”

“Oh god yeah, they were so prominent.”

“So prominent.”

Stepping up to Baby, Dean gave her a thorough once over, running his large hands gently over the places most likely to have laid victim to the crowbar. After three laps and continuous scrutiny, he deemed her unharmed.

We stood together for a moment in silence, the conversation having bled out, leaving nothing but our prior heavy tension and my own dwelling sorrow. I looked up at them both, my gaze lingering on Dean.

“Look, I need to go. I can't- I can't be around you right now, Dean. I'm glad Baby is ok and I…” I sucked in a breath, steadying my voice, “I wish you all the best. Both of you. Stay safe out there.” with my final words I spun on my heel and left.

The motel room was pitch black save for the small box TV flickering in the corner, the original Ghostbusters playing through blown out speakers. I sat in the middle of the couch rocking baggy plaid pj pants and an old band t-shirt (likely Deans, much to my own dismay). With criss-crossed legs and a bowl of popcorn in my lap, I attempted to wallow, Rory Gilmore style, over a man who I would never fully get over. Mine and Deans relationship had ended years ago, yet here I was, the wound still as fresh as the day it was inflicted. Most days I get by, and sometimes even forget the pain he caused me, allowing me to feel light and almost normal. But seeing him in the flesh, catching the scent of him and hearing his voice had turned my defences to ash. I felt exposed and raw, my heart practically on a silver platter ready for another round of being ripped to pieces. I thought I would be able to handle it if I ran into him. I knew deep down in my gut that it would happen eventually, that it was unavoidable given my living arrangements. That he would likely come and visit Jody and the others, and I would have to pretend that everything was ok - that my heart wasn't still breaking over him. I'd avoided him for this long, always able to find the perfect excuse to not be around when he showed up. It was about time the avoidance streak ran it out.

The sound of his laugh earlier this evening had tightened every muscle in my chest, reminding me of every blissful moment we'd spent together - obsessed with each others company and craving nothing else on this fucked up Earth. His smile had made me want to weep, knowing I no longer got to wake up to it every morning or let it be the last thing I witnessed before sleep. The smile that got us both into so much trouble, both as teenagers and adults alike. The smile that always made arguments feel absurd half way through. No matter who I encounter in life or how many people God throws at me in an attempt to fill the void left behind by Dean, it's an incurable hole in my soul that can never be healed.

I shovelled a handful of popcorn into my mouth as I watched the movie unfold - desperate for the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man to reach through the screen and devour me along with my melancholy attitude. Too preoccupied with the film and the strange attraction I seemed to be harbouring to men in boiler suits, I almost missed the low rumble of an engine pull into the motel parking lot outside my room. An all too familiar engine. My ears pricked before reality dawned, the blood draining from my face.

“That son of a bitch.”

I scrambled off the couch and ducked behind it, popcorn flying, knowing all too well that he'd come peering in through the gaps in the blind - which my dumbass had left open so I could watch the rain. Heavy rain and self pity went together like jack and coke after all.

There were a few breaths of silence after the squeak and slam of the impala door, and I thought maybe I'd gotten away with it. Perhaps he was staying in a room further down? Fate was forever against me though when there was a loud knock on the door. I flinched, anxiety dampening my palms as I tucked my knees into my chest and held my breath, praying to Chuck himself that Dean would leave. That he'd convince himself that he was making a reckless decision by being here, or that he had the wrong room. I almost jumped out of my skin when he rapped on the window and his voice boomed through the pattering of rain and static-y TV audio.

“I know you're in there (Y/n), now open the door.”

Even if I'd wanted to move, the ability to do so had fled my body, my muscles petrified at the thought of confronting him. I jumped again when he hammered on the door this time, the cheap wood rattling on its hinges.

“Jesus Christ, (Y/n)! Your truck is parked outside and I can see your hunting gear on the table. Open the fucking door!”

“Go away!”

“Not until you let me speak to you!”

“No!”

There was a loud THUD as his boot collided with the door and I heard him growl in frustration. I could just picture him pacing in a circle, running a hand through his hair.

“(Y/n)-”

“Please, Dean, just… just don't. I can't look at you.” I felt my voice shrink as I pulled my knees tighter to my chest, unsure if he caught my words. He did.

“What- why not?” His voice was a wretched mix of desperation and confusion, cracking between words.

I was quiet for a moment, letting the silence hang thick in the air before I pushed myself to my feet, instantly missing the comfort of the upright foetal position. I wandered over to the door, my fuzzy-socked feet padding on the thread-bare carpet.

“Because,” I leant against the wood, my heart aching at the thought of him being so close yet so devastatingly untouchable, “if I open this door I'm going to undo all the progress I've made with getting over you, Dean.” His name was bittersweet as it slid off my tongue. The quiet sound of Dean sucking in a breath hissed through the gaps in the wood.

“Please, sweetheart. I need you to open this door.”

The softer tone of his voice made him infinitely harder to resist, but I had to stand my ground.

“Dean, you know I can't,” my eyes burned as the tears started to well, my voice objecting to my words with a pitiful rasp.

“Yes you can,” he paused, “you have to, otherwise I'm going to kick this piece of shit down.”

My eyes flew wide.

“No-no Dean-”

“Stand back.”

“Don't!”

“Three…”

“Stop-”

“Two…”

“Dean-”

“One-”

“Fine!”

I grasped the handle and flung the door open, my heart dancing with my stomach when I finally caught sight of him. There he was, soaked through from the rain and giving me that woeful Mr Darcy stare. The water droplets clung to his lashes and trickled down his cheeks, the breathtaking beauty of him erasing the pre-prepared sentence from my mind. Now, all I could think at that moment was to get him warm and dry. The noose around my heart tightened when I reached a hand out to grasp his, pulling him in out of the downpour. As the door closed behind him there was a pause, my quickly dissolving self restraint making it agonising to be in his presence. And Dean seemed to know that, yet he remained.

“(Y/n)-”

“Don’t,” as the cold water started to pool around his boots, I paced over to the bathroom, quickly emerging with a fuzzy towel in hand. I passed it over to him slowly, treating him like a wild, unpredictable animal that could pounce at any moment. He took it gently from my grasp, his fingers softly brushing mine. His skin was cold and damp from the outdoors. We stood in silence for a few moments whilst Dean dried his hair as best as he could, shortly after shrugging off his jacket to hang on the dining chair beside him. As he continued to ruffle his hair dry, I steeled myself, taking a deep breath and crossed my arms over my chest.

“Why are you here, Dean? What do you want?”

He lowered the towel and hung it with his jacket, sighing from the pit of his stomach.

“Me and Sam went to see Jody and the others. I was hoping to run into you again - I wanted to talk to you. But when you didn’t appear, Jody said you’d checked out for a few nights - said you wanted to be away from the house when… uh…” his voice faltered and something akin to guilt flashed in his eyes. Unable to finish his sentence he leant on the table, staring intently at the pile of hunting gear I'd dumped there.

“When you arrived,” I finished it for him, “Yeah, that’s right. And I told  her not to tell you where I was.”

“She didn’t,” he stood up straight again, holding his hands up, “I knew you wouldn’t have gone far, so I drove around until I spotted your truck,” he admitted, gaze flitting down to the floor. More silence followed, the atmosphere thickening as the seconds ticked by.

“Dean,” my voice was small as my anxiety spiked again, the question ready to spill from my mouth though no matter what he said, I knew I wasn’t ready for the answer. “Why are you here? What do you want from me? You say you want to talk, but you’re the one who ended everything. You ended our decades-long relationship out of fucking nowhere. What could there possibly be to talk about anymore. It’s been four years.” My voice trembled and he clenched his teeth, looking away from me before setting his eyes back to the floor. He dragged his gaze back up to mine, and something burned deep in those evergreen irises that took my breath away. Yet he remained silent.

“You crushed me when out of nowhere you said we were over - that we had no future. That you couldn't imagine growing old with me, like we'd always talked about. You have no idea how much you broke my fucking heart, and then you just expected me to live alongside you in the bunker like nothing was wrong? In my own room, far away from you? Why did you think that I would be ok with that?” I felt the familiar drip of hot tears and they flooded down my cheeks and rolled off my chin, the dam I’d fought so hard to contain now bursting wide with vengeance.

“You think I wanted you to leave?” Dean spoke up finally, his voice deep and gravelly, like it always was when he was upset. “You don’t think that telling you that everything was over wasn’t the hardest thing that I’ve ever had to do? That I was happy watching you pack your bags and walk out without so much as a goodbye?”

“You didn’t love me, Dean, so why would you have cared? You obviously didn’t love me the way that I loved you.”

He flinched, but took a step closer. 

“You think this is because I stopped loving you? (Y/n)... it wasn’t safe- you weren’t safe in the bunker. You weren’t safe with me…” his expression turned to one of pain as his brows pinched and his eyes glistened. He took a deep breath. “I thought maybe if you just stayed in the bunker with little to no association with me, then it would be ok. I mean, I'd still get to see you, talk to you. Be in your fucking presence. I never expected you to- to…” he took another deep breath, his lungs almost stuttering. “I didn’t think you would leave.”

He never took his eyes off mine. I saw the years of hurt and heartbreak intertwine with glimmers of green and gold, the emotions I always knew he’d struggled to cope with were swimming in a pool of desperation and fear. On the outside, Dean Winchester was the strongest there was. He was an undefeated and undisputed leader of men. He was the King of hunters. The Alpha. The man who could make you wish you were dead. Yet here he was, wearing every vulnerable emotion on his sleeve as he stood before me with anxious breaths and fearful eyes. The sight made my heart break all over again.

“Dean,” his name was like a quiet prayer as he moved closer again, “I don’t think you understand…”

“Understand what, sweetheart?” the rasp in his voice pebbled goosebumps on my skin, and when he reached for a lock of my hair to twirl around his finger, I had to fight off every instinct to just throw myself into his arms and bury my face in his chest. His familiar scent floated through the air and wrapped itself around my senses, and when I breathed him in the aroma of old leather and gunpowder went straight to my brain like a hit of cocaine. The pleasant hum from my chest was involuntary. 

“I don’t think you understand that… that…” I sighed a woeful breath, looking up at him and seeing nothing but a warm, expectant gaze.

“That I’m still in love with you.”

The finger Dean had looped around my hair froze in place and I heard him suck in a breath, his lips parting. He remained unmoving, as though every thought racing through his mind had taken precedence over his body. It was a moment before he blinked, coming back down to Earth. When he looked down at me, all of the desperation, hurt and heartbreak dissipated from his eyes and in their place was the blazing heat of hope, accentuated by a small upturned twitch of his lips.

“You do?” 

“Yes.”

“You’re not fucking with me?”

“No.”

“Good.”

Before I could react Dean had scooped me into his arms and crashed his mouth onto mine. The urge to push him away and tell him to get the fuck out bubbled up inside me, however when his familiar taste graced my tongue, a taste that was home, every desire for him to leave evaporated. The years of being apart, of being unable to touch him had made every caress electric, no matter how feather-light. My hands had tangled in his shirt as he pressed his mouth harder onto mine, pulling him crushingly close. His embrace was almost suffocating before he gently slid his hands up and threaded his rough fingers through my hair, and I lifted my own hands to do the same. I took my time with the motion, reminding myself of what he felt like - not that the memory of him ever truly left. I remembered how the muscles across his stomach and chest felt hard beneath a soft layer of skin. I remembered the way they quivered at my touch, and how my touch always pulled soft moans from his lips. My hands crept up to take hold of his face, the familiar feeling of his rough stubble beneath my fingertips ever present, a reminder of how that rough stubble felt when it tauntingly brushed against other parts of my body. I cupped his cheeks, feeling my own tears dampen his skin. He kissed me in a way that said I’m sorry, a kiss that held four years of pent up emotions with a desire to be released. A kiss that I knew was designed specifically for me. Our breaths and lips became frantic, the pace in which we were now devouring each other was still not enough to soothe the wounds in our hearts that were so desperate to be healed. Dean pulled away and held my face in his hands, running his rough thumbs over the soft skin under my eyes to wipe away the tears.

“I miss you, so fucking much,” his voice was low, his words for my ears only - not that anyone else was listening.

“I miss you too,” I sniffled, resting my palms on his chest again and relishing in the heat seeping through his shirt.

He leant down and rested his forehead against mine, taking a deep breath with his eyes closed. The atmosphere shifted however when he dipped down lower and pressed a hot kiss to my cheek, then to my ear, and then to my neck - each press of his lips drawing a shiver from my spine. I gasped when he nibbled my pulse point gently and my hands flew to grasp the short strands of hair at the back of his neck, my nails dragging over his scalp. He groaned against me at the sensation, one large hand moving to grip my hair at its roots whilst the other slid to my hip - squeezing the soft flesh. A moan of his name slipped past my lips and it was like a switch was flipped as he pulled away suddenly. He turned to take a few steps across the room, attempting to put some distance between us. I stood, baffled for a moment, but when he turned back to me and his vibrant eyes were now black with lust, I almost knew what he was going to say.

“Do you really want to go there sweetheart? Do you think you’ll be able to handle it?” he started making slow strides back towards me and I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth. 

“Yes,” my voice was more breathy than I’d anticipated.

“No regrets?” he was almost within reach again.

“No regrets.”

When his hands landed on my waist again, his frenzied kisses on my lips, I was expecting to be able to ravage him equally; but when he lifted me and threw me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing I let out a shocked yelp. 

“Dean!”

He chuckled, the sound low in his chest as he strode over to the bed and threw me down, the impact on the mattress knocking a breath out of me.

“I’ve not been able to fuck you sensless for four years, there ain’t no way I’m going easy on you tonight sweetheart.” I propped myself up on my elbows and watched as he tore his top from his body. I barely got a glimpse of his rugged physique that I’d so terribly missed before he all but pounced, trapping me beneath him. My hands immediately clung to the tight muscles of his back, my nails digging in and drawing a hiss from his clenched teeth before his mouth pressed to my neck right below my ear.

“Do you remember how you used to scream my name?”

I nodded.

“I’m going to make you scream much, much, louder than you ever have before. I’m going to make all past encounters feel like a warm up compared to what I’m gonna do to you tonight.” I shivered at his words as his hot breath fanned over my skin. His hands were fast, desperately tugging on my pyjama pants to slip one inside the soft fabric, not bothering to remove them entirely. There was an urgency to his movements like nothing I’d ever seen, the air leaving my lungs on a gasping moan when his fingers grazed my underwear. He chuckled slightly, pressing a series of searing kisses down my neck to my collar bone. 

“Well, aren't you sensitive? How long has it been, darlin’? Since someone else touched you - since someone else made you cum?” The heat rose to my already flushing cheeks at his words and I tried to cover my face with the back of my hand. My attempts to hide were futile as his long fingers wrapped around my wrist and he pinned my arm above my head. 

“Well?” he pressed, a smirk on his lips.

“Four years,” I all but squeaked. He thought for a moment before his smirk evolved into a widespread grin. “Don't let it go to your head, Winchester,” I did my best to bite out my words yet my voice trembled with a mixture of apprehension and excitement. My head rolled into the quilt and my back arched when he pushed his finger against my clit through my underwear a second time, this time harder, more purposeful. His own breath was shuddering as he continued to plant hot kisses against my skin, the slight dampness from his lips cooling quickly when he pulled back to sit on his knees. My heart didn't know if it wanted to stop dead in my chest or palpitate itself into oblivion when he looked down at me. Dean eminated a dark, primal hunger, glazing his eyes with lust as he gnawed his bottom lip. There wasn't a part of me that he hadn't seen before, and despite my current lack of nakedness it was as if I wasn't wearing anything at all. He made a noise in his chest that seemed to roll up his throat, like a growl of approval as I lay like prey beneath him. Dean may be older now, but he was bigger. Broader. Larger. The years of saving the world and fighting every abomination in his path had forced him to bulk up most exquisitely. With my free hand I traced over the scars adorning his shoulders, chest and abdomen: some old and silver, some newer and pink. There were even a fresh few, still scabbed over, and he shivered at every gentle touch. His gaze, however, was unrelenting. Without uttering a word he yanked my pyjama bottoms from my legs and tossed them into the depths of the room, immediately doing the same with my underwear. Instinctively I attempted to pull my knees together despite him being planted between them and he laughed softly, dragging his dark eyes over my slightly squirming body. He clutched my hand that was touching his chest and pinned it with my other one above my head, leaning down to lift the hem of my t-shirt, to gather above my breasts with his teeth. A shiver tore through me as his hot breath dusted the soft skin of my stomach and ribs, perking my nipples instantly.

“I think your body missed me sweetheart.”

“Definitely not just my body,” I panted. He breathed over my lips for a moment, every possibility of tonight's endeavours flashing before his eyes before he dipped his head to kiss me. His mouth moved slightly slower this time, like he was desperately trying to control the beast inside and make every moment count. To make every moment memorable.

“Do you remember Oasis Plains, Oklahoma? With that fancy house we borrowed?” His voice dropped an octave, eyes hooded as he recalled the memory.

“Yes,” I practically clenched, remembering the late night escapades from all those years ago. In my mind it was like yesterday - the way his lips felt on my skin, how his strong fingers bruised my thighs, and how he brought me to total completion no less than three times. His lips twitched up as he slid down my body and off the edge of the bed to kneel on the floor. He roughly gripped my thighs and threw them over his shoulders before slowly, tantalisingly sliding his hands up the supple flesh to grasp my ass and pull my whole body towards him.

“I’m gonna make you lose your fucking mind, just like you did back then. Maybe I'll even beat that record.”

My eyes could've disappeared inside my skull with how far they rolled back, his mouth's quick descent over my most intimate area - a soft kiss placed just above my clit - had me gasping in anticipation. Without a second to gather my thoughts he pressed his next kiss to that bundle of nerves; the wet heat of his mouth sending a pulse after pulse of fire through my veins as I twitched at his touch. He was an expert. Every flick of his tongue was practised and calculated, knowing which way to swirl, to caress, and how much pressure to apply. It was only a matter of minutes before my hands plunged into his hair and I grasped desperately at the soft strands, feeling that tidal wave build, and build, and build before he daringly grazed his teeth over my clit and it sent the wave crashing down around me, my body arching off the soft mattress as I came undone in his arms at the mercy of his mouth. 

“F-FUCK- Dean-”

My limbs twitched as they relaxed on the come-down, Deans tongue softly tracing up and down my opening. Without pulling away, he spoke in a husky tone:

“Fuck, sweetheart. You have no idea how many times I've reminisced about you moaning my name like that.”

The breath from his words made me shiver, and I moved to prop myself up on my elbows. 

“Ready for round two?” His voice remained low, not waiting for my inevitable confirmation before slowly dipping a finger into my still-clenching walls. The moan that slipped past my lips pulled a groan from Dean, a second finger joining the first as they curled up to push against the soft cushion hidden in the depths of my core. He knew where to find it with zero hesitation - his fingers seemingly acting on muscle memory as he beckoned another orgasm from me. He coaxed it forward, my inner nerves dangerously sensitive as the pleasure began to pool for a second time. With every motion of his finger, again and again, I started to feel the coil twist. I was in two minds on whether to be mortified by how easily he could pull a climax from my very soul, or impressed by it. Either way, he had me teetering on the edge a second time before a single flick of his tongue snapped the coil and euphoria claimed me once more.

His name merged with the endless moans spilling from my mouth, my hazy brain struggling to differentiate the two.

“Shit, you taste so good baby. I could devour you all night.”

“I wouldn't stop you.”

He grinned.

“As much as I would love to indulge you, I need to fuck you. Now.”

He pushed on the backs of my thighs, urging me to centre myself on the bed before he climbed back over me. I could feel myself salivating at the sight of his broad shoulders flexing under his weight, his skin damp with sweat from being trapped beneath my thighs.

He leant down to capture my mouth again, a kiss fueled with raw, carnal desire as he struggled to hold himself back. He shuddered under my fingertips as I trailed them down his torso to his belt, hastily unfastening the buckle and top button of his jeans. It was a joint effort to push them off his hips and down his thighs, but that's as far as they went. The feral need to be inside me had consumed him, and I'd barely withdrawn my hands from between us when he lined up and buried himself to the hilt. 

The burn and stretch was immediate - knocking the air from my lungs as I clutched his solid biceps like a lifeline, my nails indenting his scarred skin. He had the common decency to stay still for around ten seconds before his self restraint diminished yet again and he withdrew slowly. I could feel the divine ridges on his length through the immense build up of my slick and his spit, and as he eased back in he dropped his head into the crook of my neck with a gasp and a groan. A large, rough palm glided down my thigh, goosebumps in its wake as he grasped beneath my knee to rest my leg on his hip. Another moan filled the air between us at the new angle, the top of his cock kissing the soft, sensitive cushion inside. His mouth was hot on my neck as his hips found a rhythm against mine - a rhythm that gradually increased in speed with the intense pleasure unrelenting on my over-sensitive insides. My next impending climax swiftly appearing on the horizon.

“Dean,” I pleaded, my eyes cracking open to look up at him through welling tears, “I'm getting close again-”

He lifted his head, that play-boy grin finding his lips as he saw the mess I'd become at his touch; the mascara-stained tear tracks smudging on my cheeks and the unruly sex-hair was always a good sign of a good time.

“I need you to let go sweetheart - cum for me. Please…”

His words were the cherry on the cake for my undoing yet again and I felt my whole body explode with pleasure and tense up around him. The third orgasm of the night had my vision blurring when he cursed under his breath at my contracting walls, yet he didn't let up. He fucked me through the mind blowing bliss, not letting me catch my breath as a fourth climax hit me out of nowhere, the torturous attack on my g-spot making me feel close to blacking out.

“F-FUCK- Dean- Please- I can't,” my voice was hoarse from the moans and ragged breaths ripping from my throat every other second and my whole body trembled, slick with sweat from both myself and Dean. Despite the death grip I had on Deans cock, every involuntary clench making my knees twitch, he still wasn't finished. His powerful thrusts stuttered slightly before he pulled out, causing me to suck a breath through my teeth. Before I had a chance to query his actions he flipped me with ease, landing me flat on my stomach, my face buried in the soft quilt. Much like before, he didn't wait for an invitation to push back in, the overstimulated nerves in my core sending a jolt through every aching muscle in my body. The deeper angle pulled a cry from my lips when he bottomed out, and if I didn't know any better I would've said that his cock was in my ribcage. Deans large, warm hands took up residence on the supply flesh around my hips, tugging them up so my ass was in the air.

“Shit, (Y/n), with a view like this I'm not gonna last much longer- fuck,” Deans words were strained as he picked up the pace again, albeit this time there was an urgency to his movements. A desperate desire to experience the same Earth shattering euphoria that he had hand delivered to me. With my face in the fabric I snuck a hand down between my legs, finding the pleasure of circling my clit both a relief and an amplifier for the scorching pleasure Dean was inflicting. It didn't take long for him to tear my hand away, only to replace it with his own - pulling noises from my lips that were a whole new calibre of erotic that I didn't know I was capable of. My moans had an effect on Dean, and the hand that was on my hip, that was kneading my soft skin with a bruising grip had shot forwards and planted beside my head, bracing his weight above me. I couldn't see him but I could feel his solid chest against my back, his head dipping down to place rough kisses against my shoulder, his stubble tickling the sensitive skin there. I prepared myself for the bruises I'd find on my body in the morning - his firm hold on me would have been almost painful given any other situation. That's not to forget the biting and sucking he was now subjecting my neck and shoulder blades to - the sensation setting my skin ablaze. Deans strained breaths were a tell for his own impending end, with his hips losing their strong rhythm as he panted out laboriously. The sound of him on the verge of bliss, accompanied by every other agonising ministration performed on my body had me unravelling one last time; one hand fisting the sheets whilst the other reached back, my nails brushing over Deans scalp and toying with his short, soft hair. The fluttering of my channel around his cock was all it took to bring him to his long awaited fervid finish. I trembled beneath him as he groaned into my ear, the sound something primal, something almost unhinged. We remained still for a moment, waiting for the post climax clarity to come along and make us regret our decision. He pulled out slowly, earning a hiss from both of us at the loss of warmth and intimate contact. The simultaneous feeling of emptiness and relief was an odd feeling, as I know full well he’d ruined me for anyone else - no one in Heaven or Hell could compete with that. Not that I wanted them to in the first place. Every nerve ending in my lower region fizzled with overstimulation, yet I couldn't have felt more relaxed; more satiated. For the first time in a very, very, long time, I felt complete. 

Dean grabbed the towel he'd left on the back of the chair and used it to catch the evidence of our intimacy, the wetness cooling quickly on my thighs as I pushed myself to sit on my knees. I turned and looked up at him, watching as he stood beside the bed, eyeing me nervously. I raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on my lips.

“What's wrong? Regretting the whole ‘No Regrets’ thing already?” 

He shook his head.

“Do you?” His voice held a crackle that equaled his nervous expression.

I shook my head. He looked down at his clothes on the floor.

“No, although I'm getting the impression from you that this was a one time thing,” he must've heard the disappointment when I spoke, his eyes flying up to meet mine.

“Why would you say that?”

“Because you're picking your shit off the floor like you're about to leave, that's why.”

“You…want me to stay? I thought-”

“Did I fucking stutter when I said I still love you, Dean? Because I do, and it's all-consuming and to be totally honest, I never want to leave your side again.” Heat bloomed across my cheeks at my sudden proclamation. Deans grip on his clothes slackened, letting it all fall back to the floor. From the look on his face it was like I'd just declared him King of the world; like a light switched on behind his eyes and a smile threatened to spread across his face.

“Yeah?” 

I fiddle with my fingers in my lap, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth.

“Yeah-whoa!”

I didn't get the chance to feel bashful or embarrassed when Dean tackled me onto the bed. At first he peppered my still-damp skin with small kisses that tickled with his stubble, before placing his mouth over mine. I couldn't recall a time that he'd kissed me so softly, and accompanied by the gentle embrace of his arms with his fingers carefully threading through my hair, it was enough to bring me to tears.

“I've missed you so much,” my sniffles brought an almost relieved smile to his features as he pulled back and stroked my hair with overwhelming tenderness.

“I've missed you too, sweetheart.

So fucking much.”

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

Taglist: @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200 @spndeanwinchesterlvr @mxtansy @libby99hb @magssteenkamp @redmaro86 @slut-for-evans-stan @spookyysinsanity @localjisung @king-of-milf-lovers @xshortputax @jerksbitch @multifandoms-saidwhat @deans-baby-momma @writersxxx

[annievrse]

Break Through, Break Down / Act III

Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader  Summary: When your captain, Luffy, tells you to run from Bartholomew Kuma on the Sabaody Archipelago instead of fighting, you end up on a submarine. Takes place post-time skip. W/C: 20k C/W: Fic structure: Sabaody Archipelago → Zou spoilers, canon timeline but majority canon-divergent events, she/her pronouns, no use of y/n. Content: anxiety, descriptions of injuries, blood, mentions of torture and violence, mentions of past trauma (Law), Doflamingo.

Labyrinth Series Masterlist

— Scene 1 —

You need to get to Sabaody. 

You don’t know how because Law sure as hell isn’t going back to Paradise, not when everything is going to plan. But it must be done; you must be at Sabaody Archipelago in a month. Everything you’ve done to get stronger has been to meet your family back on Sabaody. 

You feel like you’ve betrayed the Straw Hats by going to the New World before them. That was the plan after all, but you got so caught up with the Heart Pirates and helping Law that the thought of meeting Luffy at Sabaody had slipped your mind. You scolded yourself every day for it. 

Law achieved Warlord status, and as you watch him say farewell to Bepo, Penguin, Shachi, and the rest of the crew, you mull over how much you’ve fucked up the original plan. 

It’s been a year and a half since Law presented the ninety-eight pirate hearts he collected on Hachinosu and the two single hearts, one from Seamus Wells and the other from the noble on the passenger ship before the Navy Headquarters. He wore his usual smirk and callous facade while the rest of you stood on the deck of the Polar Tang with guns pointed at you from every angle. From what you remember, the Marines looked mortified, some sick, and others confused—you were used to it at that point, wearing a bored expression while Law went inside the complex to talk with someone higher up. Your anxiety that day spread like wildfire through your body, but you knew he’d get what he wanted. 

Now, you stand before the Polar Tang on an island overrun with snow and ice on one side and fire and lava on the other. You wrap your arms around yourself, the thick jacket you wear doing nothing against the frigid wind of Punk Hazard. Law stands beside you with his jacket zipped up to his chin, his katana resting on his shoulder. 

“Be careful!” Bepo yells, his paws covering his mouth to project his voice. 

“We’ll be fine,” Law calls. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Penguin laughs before coughing, the winter air tightening his chest. “When are we ever stupid?” 

“Bye!” Ikkaku yells, waving at you. 

You smile and wave back. “Be safe!”

You have grown closer to Ikkaku during your time on the Polar Tang. She no longer regards you with disdain and is grateful for another woman on the sub. It’s refreshing to have a female friendship again—and the thought makes the taste of Sabaody bitter in your mouth. 

Law clicks his tongue and turns, making his way toward the giant laboratory in the mountains. You stand there, watching the Heart Pirates shut the door and descend back into the sea, embarking on their journey to Zou. You sigh deeply and pull the beanie further over your ears. 

“C’mon!” 

You turn, your gaze remaining on when the submarine submerged. Though they aren’t going in the direction you need to go, and somewhere deep in your soul, you wish you could persuade them to go back over Reverse Mountain to Sabaody. 

Law calls your name, and you look toward him. His hand is outreached, and you rush over to him as quickly as possible in this weather and take it. You shake your head to rid your mind of the impossible. 

“This guy knows we’re coming, right?” 

He clears his throat. “He knows I’m coming.” 

“So we’re not going to get attacked?” 

“Shouldn’t.” 

You roll your lips between your teeth and huddle closer to Law. Glancing up at him, the red tint to his cheeks is mainly from the icy wind, but you know it’s also because you’re holding his hand. You refrain from giggling, knowing he’d only scold you for such trivial things, but he knows you too well.

“You better not be laughing at me.” 

You snort. “Never, my love.” 

Law rolls his eyes and says nothing, though he squeezes your gloved hand tighter. 

“While we’re here, I need you to do something for me.” 

You nod with owlish eyes. “Of course.” 

“There’s no doubt in my mind that Caesar Clown has this place on lockdown, with cameras and shit… So we need to do this here,” He pauses, looking toward the mountain. “I need you to keep my heart safe.” 

Furrowing your eyebrows, you stop, the snow squeaking under your feet. “Why?”

Law senses your worried tone and faces you. “I’m going to give my ‘heart’ to them to prove my loyalty.” 

“Your ‘heart’?” 

“I have an extra heart from Hachinosu,” Law says. “You’re going to keep mine safe while I hand over this one.” 

You purse your lips, your own heart racing. “Okay. Right now?” 

“Right now,” He urges, lifting his hand to his chest. “I should’ve done it on the sub, but I got sidetracked…” 

You feel your cheeks warm at the connotation. “Yeah, well…” 

Law uses Scalpel, and a blue cube slides from his chest. “Keep it safe for me, sweetheart.” 

You open the flap of the bag you carry on your back and wrap it in a scarf crafted with Sew. “I have been for two years, haven’t I?” 

He snorts and digs around inside his coat for the pirate’s heart. Law inhales sharply before inserting it into the empty slot, his face scrunching in agony. You place your hand on his. 

“Careful,” You whisper, your gaze running over his face as his expression evens out. 

“I’m good.”

You hum, swinging the backpack over your shoulder. The wind whistles through the barren land, and the laboratory looks further away than it did a second ago. “If you could Shamble us up there right now, I’d be eternally grateful.” 

Law gives a sidelong glance but flicks his fingers up anyway. “You’re annoying.” 

“I love you,” You tease, leaning up and kissing his freezing cheek. 

His gaze softens, and then you’re stumbling. 

Before you can complain to him, Law is at the giant door, knocking. You don’t think anyone will answer until it slides open and a cloud of gas emerges. 

“Ceasar.”

“Trafalgar Law,” The gas speaks before materialising into a figure. A ten-foot man with horns in a yellow stripy jumpsuit and a purple cape towers over you, and you let out a squeak of surprise. “Who’s this?”

“My assistant.” 

Caesar huffs and looks you up and down. “Ugh, fine! Come with me. We have business to discuss before I let you roam around here… unsupervised.” 

You glance at Law, who looks straight ahead and follows the gas man inside. There’s a bad feeling swirling in your stomach, but you pay it no mind. 

— Scene 2 —

The inside of the laboratory is unsettling, almost as much as the looming presence of Caesar as he watches over you. Law is elsewhere, performing his part of the contract, healing Caesar’s underlings while you stay in this room. You make no sudden movements and keep your breathing steady. 

“So, what do you do out here? On Punk Hazard?” 

Caesar narrows his eyes. “Experiments.” 

You nod, knowing you weren’t getting more of an answer than that. “Cool.” 

The scientist makes no sound, and you chew on your bottom lip. 

“I could’ve sworn I’ve seen your face in the newspaper. Who are you again?”

You glance at Caesar, surprised he asked you a question but nervous about the former statement. “Law’s assistant.” 

“Huh,” Caesar mused. “Maybe I’m thinking of the wrong person…” 

Your stomach flips, and before you comprehend the situation, Caesar has you hanging in the air by your throat. 

“A Straw Hat,” He growls, his gas tightening around your neck. “Trafalgar Law brought a pirate into my laboratory.” 

You struggle to breathe and claw at the invisible hand. “No, it’s not like that, please.” 

“Law and I signed a contract,” Caesar says. “I don’t remember seeing your name in there.” 

“I’m just here to learn,” You squeeze your eyes closed and squeak out the syllables. 

“Learn about what?”

“Caesar.” 

The scientist freezes, his gas turning icy against your skin. “Law…”

“Put her down. I won’t ask again.” 

You feel your feet hit the floor, and then you crumble. You inhale sharply, the oxygen burning your lungs as you gulp it down hungrily. Coughing, you rub at your chest. “Asshole.” 

“Why did you bring a pirate here?” 

Law huffs harshly, glancing at you to see if you’re okay. When you are, he cocks his head at Caesar. “She’s my assistant. If you have a problem with that, I’ll happily turn your underlings back as they were.” 

Caesar giggles nervously. “No problems. None at all. Have you finished with them?” 

“Yes.” 

And then Caesar flies from the room. Law rushes over to you and helps you stand, cursing under his breath.

“I shouldn’t have left him alone with you.” 

You smile weakly, resting your palm on his cheek. “I’m fine.” 

“You’re not,” He sits you down on the couch. “Fuck.” 

He inspects your neck; his fingers light on your skin as he traces the blooming bruises, leaving goosebumps in his wake. 

“What do we do now?” You ask, deflecting his attention. Law’s gaze remains on your neck.

“We lay low, try not to draw attention to ourselves while we’re here. I need to gain their trust.” 

— Scene 3 —

It's been a month since you and Law arrived at Punk Hazard, and it’s been nothing short of boring. But Sabaody never left your mind. The date of the meeting came and went, and you felt guilt deep in your stomach, the feeling making you sick. There’s nothing you could have said or done, though you know Law wanted you to be there—he’d apologised every day, but it just wasn’t possible. 

Most days are the same: wake up, eat a meal of potato, rice, and curry, walk around the facility, eat another serving of potato, rice, and curry, and go to sleep. It’s mundane, but Law ensures there is a means to the end—find the SAD production room. It’s why you’re required to wander around the facility all day to inspect the thousands of rooms and decipher which is the one to destroy. 

You’ve had no luck so far; there are men in yellow suits in every direction who forbid you from going certain ways, but you aren’t stupid— you know the hallways lead to where you need to go. You just don’t know how to go about it. Sure, you could use Seam, and your mind and ability have strengthened substantially since Hachinosu. Still, there’s an unknown number of people in the facility, and anything above 300 souls would send you comatose. The limitation frustrates you. 

Caesar and his underling, Monet, project clear disdain toward you, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. The winged woman is eerie, always watching you, like she knows you’re being untruthful about your intentions. There are moments when you’re walking the corridors, and there are screams, child-like wails of terror and anguish that have your hair standing on end. You choose not to ask Caesar or Monet about it; that would be foolish. Law says he’s heard it too but doesn’t know where it’s coming from—the cries echo like they’re everywhere, with no one place to pinpoint them to. It’s unsettling. 

“Located.” 

Law whispers it as he passes by you breezily. You gulp and suppress your relieved smile; the word brings you hope. 

You know Caesar’s hazmat crew hovers over you, the surveillance snails monitoring your every movement, but you neglect to care when you’ve just heard that you’ll soon be leaving. You don’t dare glance back at Law as he walks down the hallway you just came from and clench your fists tight to avoid doing so. 

A faraway scream draws you from your daze, and when it continues, you look back at Law. He’s at the end of the hall, stopped with his head tilted. You take a step, but a loud, echoing thump startles you. 

“Navy’s here,” Law calls, and then he takes off down the hall toward Building A. You sigh, perplexed as to how he could know that. “C’mon.” 

Your heart races as you do, the winter boots you wear barely gripping the slick vinyl floors. As you catch up to Law, you notice he’s taken on a leisurely stroll. 

“How do you know the Navy’s here?” You raise an eyebrow. Law huffs a laugh and adjusts his katana on his shoulder. 

“I heard chaos outside; looked in the surveillance room.” 

Your jaw drops. “How’d you get in there?” 

Law doesn’t respond since he knows you know the answer anyway. You give him a sidelong glance. 

“I’ve been trying to get in there for weeks…” You mumble, pouting. “And all I had to do was ask you.” 

Law shrugs and takes the left hallway at the fork. 

“Why are the Navy here anyway?” 

“I don’t know,” Law says, voice low. “But I don’t like it.” 

The knock is incessant, and it gets louder with each passing second. 

When you get to the door, Law huffs with irritation. He presses a red button, and the thick sheet of metal slides open a few feet. 

“Trafalgar Law.” 

You decide to hang back, not wanting to alert the Marines of your presence… besides, Law is a Warlord, and you’re not. 

You recognise the Navy Vice Admiral when he speaks, his deep timbre annoyed. “Trafalgar Law.”

Law scoffs lightly. “What brings you to my vacation home?” 

You close your eyes at his quip, his body leaning carelessly against the wall. The wind whistles harshly, and the icy air nips at your ears. It’s the only sound for a minute, the Navy seemingly shocked at Law’s presence. 

“Trafalgar! We understand you’re a Warlord, but we need to get past. Step aside!” The voice is familiar, and you comb through your memories to figure out who it belongs to. You faintly recall a woman with a sword, someone who Zoro complained about. “We already know you’re not the only one on this island.” 

You bite your tongue. There’s no way she could know you’re here. Law narrows his eyes. 

“What are you talking about?” 

Tashigi, you remember. That’s her name. When she doesn’t answer, you dare a peek at her. She holds a Baby Transponder Snail in her hand, the gastropod warbling as it gains a signal. 

“Hello?—”

Your heart stops.

“My name is Monkey D. Luffy!”

You can’t move, the icy wind blowing through the crack in the door almost tipping you over. There’s no way. You touch Law’s back, begging to look at the snail closer. 

But you physically deflate when the call goes on and realise it’s a recording. 

“He said cold and named the island,” Tashigi’s voice cuts off your daze. “Given those facts, it's almost undeniable that the signal was sent from here.” 

Law remains silent. 

“And you’ve met Straw Hat before, haven’t you?” Smoker asks, folding his arms over his chest. “You helped him escape from Marineford.” 

You gulp and back away. If they knew you were here…

“Alright then, what now?” Law sighs. “I know you Marines are good at faking those distress signals.” 

Smoker raises an eyebrow, his cigar bobbing between his lips. “If you’re insinuating that this is a trap we set, you’re wrong.”

“Is that so?” Law scoffs. “Well, I haven’t got any information for you.” 

“You and I both know that’s bullshit,” Smoker growls. “Now, let us inside that lab.” 

“It’s my vacation home, that’s all. Beat it,” Law says, his tone growing agitated. “The Navy abandoned this place, so why does it matter if I’m here? I see nobody else around.” 

You’re on the verge of sprinting. The mention of Luffy and hearing his voice through the Snail has made you feel sick. You betrayed them, and now they’re here? You don’t think you can face them.

“And if Straw Hat does come knocking, I’ll behead him for you. Now, get lost.” 

You almost stumble and glare at the back of Law’s head—empty threats. 

Smoker and Tashigi say nothing, but they aren’t leaving. You raise your hand, ready to send their souls to Seam, when there’s a rumble behind you. 

“Wha—” A collection of footsteps clamber down the stairs, and you furrow your brows, your heart clenching with fear. What is that?

Law looks at you, his eyes widening as he spots something you can’t. You slowly turn, ignoring the chatter of confusion outside, and your jaw opens in both horror and shock. 

There are children—tens of them, running toward you, all dressed in the same white gown. But what puzzles you more is that some of them are 4 times your height. 

“What the…” Law muses, his voice trailing off. Your chest heaves like your lungs are trying to increase the oxygen to your brain because… what are you looking at?

The voices that scream behind them cause a chill down your spine. “We gotta get outta here!” 

“Look! There’s a door!” 

It can’t be. You blink,  tears pooling in your eyes. 

Law’s brows tug together as he tries to figure out what the hell is going on. 

Before your eyes, a large raccoon dog throws itself past you, kicking the door wider. You recognise the hat instantly and feel your knees buckle. More people rush past, and you’re disoriented by the chaos around you. 

“Woah! It’s freezing out here…” 

“Nami…” You whisper with confusion. “Nami!” 

You turn around to face the door, your hands clasped together on your chest. You hope you’re not mistaken.

Your name falls from her lips, and it's like the world is rewarding you for sticking it out and for surviving this long. She gasps, her familiar red hair a blur as she wraps her arms around you. 

“Nami,” You cry, pulling her tighter against you. 

“We thought—”

“I know,” Pulling your face back to explain yourself, Nami brushes stray hairs away from your eyes. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t get to Sabaody. I was already here, and—”

“Don’t apologise,” Nami exclaims, tears sliding down her cheeks. “I’m so happy to see you.” 

You frown, searching her eyes for any hint of a lie—you’re sure they’re upset and angry with you for not coming back when everyone else made the effort. But she’s genuine; she’s not mad. 

Law stands awkwardly in the doorway, staring down Smoker as he grapples with the shock of seeing so many children burst from the laboratory. And as confused and irritated Law is at Caesar for keeping these kids hostage, he can’t think about that when the Navy stands before him, ready to attack. Especially when you’re here, behind him, reuniting with your crew. 

“Hey, hey, hey, Franky the Tank!” 

A stunned laugh forces its way out of your chest, and you turn. Franky is coming toward you in a form you haven’t seen, with two children and Sanji behind him. They don’t seem to notice you and Nami yet, only the hoard of kids they saved. 

“It’s the Straw Hats…” You hear Tashigi call outside. Fear clings to you, and you shove Nami toward Franky and Sanji. 

“Go!” You yell. Sanji’s ears seem to perk up at the sound of your voice, and when he mumbles your name, he’s jumping off Franky and running. 

Law grunts but is focused on the Marines. Sanji yells your name again, a broad grin on his mouth. 

“My sweet!” He brings you into a hug. “I thought I would never see you again, my love. Are you okay?” 

You leer and nod, your cheeks hurting when Chopper and Franky realise it’s you, too. 

“I’m so sorry,” You repeat, taking advantage of the Navy’s shock to talk to your friends for a bit longer.

“Luffy told us everything,” Sanji reassures. “We’re not mad at you. We could never be.” 

You purse your lips in an attempt to stop crying. 

“A severed head?” A yell echoes through the wind, and you look at Franky, who holds one. 

You’re at a loss for words, and you don’t think your heart can take this right now. Rationality takes over your emotions, and panic arises inside you. “You have to go! The Navy’s here!”

“The Navy?” Nami asks. The children are circled around Franky, who tries his best to distract them from the impending danger around them, face wet with tears from seeing you. 

“I’ll catch up,” You say, sniffling. “Go!” 

Chopper squeaks as he cries. “I missed you.” 

Nami, after wiping her cheeks, grabs Chopper and Sanji’s wrists. “She’s right. We should go.” 

You inhale sharply, watching as your friends try and quickly maneuver the kids down the hallway you pointed to. 

“Hey, wait,” Nami squints in Law's direction. “We know him.”

Chopper gasps. “Yeah, we saw him in Sabaody. What’s his name again?” 

Then Nami’s expression turns into one of betrayal. “You didn’t kidnap these kids, did you?” 

You shake your head, upset she’d even think of Law like that. But, then again, the only person who knows him is you. 

“No!” You plead. “This is the first we’ve seen of them.” 

Sanji makes a surprised sound that turns into a growl. “What’s he doing here?”

Everyone’s attention turns to the Vice Admiral, who has moved back onto the snow. 

“Smoker!” Sanji points at him. “And Tashigi! Looking good…”

Law rolls his eyes. “Are you gonna leave before they attack, or not?” 

“We should go,” Chopper whines, tugging Nami’s arm. You look between your crew and the Navy, the tension in the air growing tenfold. 

“Quick!” Sanji shouts. “We can’t get out this way. Go down that hallway!” 

The children start screaming while they run, following the direction Sanji pointed. Nami gives you one last smile before trailing after them, and soon, it’s just you and Law. 

Law takes the stairs down the ice, and the Navy backs up as he does so. You follow close behind. 

Your name falls from Smoker’s lips as a snarl. It seems he’s just noticed you. “You’ve caused us a lotta trouble…” 

Law guards your body with his own. 

“So there are others here!” Tashigi exclaims. 

Law shrugs. “Guess so. It’s a shock for me, too.” 

Without replying, Tashigi draws her sword. “Marines! Track down the Straw Hats!” 

Behind her, there’s a collective yell, the men inching closer. You peek around Law’s bicep, watching them. 

“Wait,” Smoker says sternly. “Back down.” 

But, before you or the Navy can comprehend the situation, Law sticks out his hand. “Room.” 

You gape as a phantom wind pushes the Navy back, the blue dome hardly visible through the thick cloud. “Law…”

He doesn’t hear you. “And Takt.” 

Ice cracks beyond the cloud, and you step beside him. “So, we’re doing this?” 

Law sighs. “They won’t leave…” 

Smoker and Tashigi look behind them, both frozen in place. There’s a large dark silhouette looming over the Marines. You tilt your head in wonder when you realise it’s their battleship. 

“Shit,” You murmur, glancing up at Law to see his eyes closed. “Careful…”

Law swallows, acknowledging your warning. 

“I lied to you for your own good,” He calls to Smoker. “You should’ve listened. And now that you’ve seen the truth… I can’t let you leave.” 

The chatter of the Marines is almost deafening, and you wince. 

“Stay behind me,” Smoker growls to his subordinates. He draws the staff from his back and points it at Law. You narrow your eyes. How dare he wield that at him. 

Beside you, Law reaches for his katana, pulling it from the scabbard. He smirks, his katana blade reflecting the glare of the snow. 

It could be so easy for you to just send Smoker’s soul to Seam, to watch his body go limp, to defeat him. But, since he has a Logia-type Devil Fruit, it’s dangerous for you to do so. 

“Don’t get too close to him,” Law mumbles. “He touches you with that stick of his, and it’s over.” 

“I know,” You sigh, matching Tashigi’s stance. “You, too.” 

The battleship is suspended in the air above you, the hull of the ship to the sky. The ground shakes under your feet. Law changes his position, lowering his arm. 

The Marines behind Smoker and Tashigi yell out, but you pay them no mind. 

“That was the Samurai,” Law mutters. You furrow your eyebrows and look up at him. 

“Who?” 

“The severed head.” 

“Oh,” You frown, regretting not paying closer attention. 

Law’s free hand moves up again; this time, the debris from the battleship flies around, narrowly missing the Marines. 

“Give the ship back,” Smoker deadpans. 

Law smirks. “Eh, fine. But let me make one adjustment.” 

Your lips form a straight line. “Stop playing with them.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” And then he swings his katana upwards, the blade cutting the air. There’s a collective gasp, and then the ship splits into two, and the sound of wood cracking is deafening. 

The two halves of the ship lower slowly, Law moving his finger down slightly to prompt the movement. He stares straight ahead, watching the Marines panic. You watch in awe as a giant iceberg levitates behind it, and Law quickly slashes his sword multiple times to cut the ice. 

The chunks, plus the ship halves and the debris, start falling into the ground, sending the area into more chaos, the screams and shouts echoing far past the laboratory. 

The inside of Room is a mess, like a snow globe just shaken. 

“Let’s go, Admiral!” A voice bounces off the ice.

Law scoffs. “I don’t think so…”

You do nothing but admire the control Law has over the tonnes of wood and ice as they join together like magnets. It reminds you of a game you used to play as a child. 

“Hey! You work for the government too, Bud!” 

“Wait until we tell HQ that you attacked us!”

Law’s tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, a wry laugh leaving his throat. He flips the katana in his hand, pointing the blade to the ground. “Scan.” 

He drags the blade perpendicular to the ground before propping it back up on his shoulder and closing his outstretched fist. You know the play; he’s done it hundreds of times before. 

A collective thud sounds behind you, and you don’t have to turn to know it’s the Marines’ Baby Transponder Snails. 

There’s a crazed look in Law’s eye that excites you. 

“Warlord or not, you’ve gone too far,” Smoker says, his body turning to smoke around him. And then he takes off, speeding toward Law. Your gasp is smothered by the innate response to protect Law, your body throwing itself before him. 

Law says nothing, knowing you hate when he intervenes. 

“Needles.” 

A large one materialises in your hand, and before Smoker reaches you, you swing it. Law jumps back, his katana out. He presses his back to yours, slashing the smoke that swirls around him. You work in tandem, cutting and slicing the air. You see Smoker’s top half in the sky, speaking to the Marines. It’s your cue to elbow Law. 

He faces them and swings the katana, cutting all of the Marines in half. They all scream, but you don’t take your eyes off of Smoker. He lands in front of you.

“Trafalgar Law!” Tashigi yells, sprinting at him. 

Smoker stands to his full height before you, noticing Tashigi. “Stop! You can’t win!”

She doesn’t let up, positioning her sword beside her head. Tashigi jumps, her blade over her head, and she comes down on Law. 

You take the opportunity to send the Marine’s souls to Seam, and the influx makes you lightheaded. They all slump, the halves of their bodies laying limply on the ice, and you’re grateful for the silence. 

Swords clang, and you turn to see two halves of Tashigi’s sword fly through the air. They have yet to notice their Marines are unresponsive. 

Smoker falters when he sees Tashigi’s torso slip off her hips, her legs remaining stuck in the ice. 

The wind is the only sound; it blows harshly against your face and sneaks its way through your thick coat, chilling you to the bone. You see Law standing there through blurred vision, your eyes watering at the sting of the cold. 

“Why won’t you finish me? Trafalgar!” 

Law clicks his tongue. “Weaklings like you don’t get to decide where you die.” 

The needle in your hand drops to the ground, and then Smoker staggers over to Tashigi, his voice tight and cautious. With the Marines quiet, there’s nothing to be worried about. 

Law stalks toward you, his hat-shrouded gaze darkening when he sees you shivering. Immediately, the wind stops. You inhale as he stands before you. 

“You could’ve done that before,” You say, noticing the wind blowing harder outside the small bubble around you. 

Law shrugs. “We need to get inside and figure out what the hell is going on.” 

You nod, swallowing thickly. “How are they here?” 

“I don't know,” Law whispers, knowing you’re talking about the children. “But I’m gonna kick Caesar’s ass.” 

“Law!” 

The Warlord sighs with something akin to defeat and turns. “What?” 

A cloud of smoke is heading straight for you, but Law quickly slashes it with his katana. 

“You may be a Warlord, but you’re still just a pirate,” Smoker grunts as he dodges Law’s attack. “Just like her.” 

Another needle forms in your grasp, and you jump to the side to avoid Smoker’s staff, the end dangerously close to your shoulder. “Shit.” 

The smoke cloud rises above you. Law is quick to swipe, but Smoker’s quicker. The katana clangs against the metal staff with a sharp zing; Law focuses on keeping the end of the staff away from you. 

Smoker’s hand wielding the staff stays the same, and you don’t realise the rest of his body turning to smoke. He rounds Law, and his other hand tightens around Law’s neck. 

You gasp, stabbing your needle into the space where Smoker’s body should be. 

The Admiral materialises and uses his strength to slam Law’s head into the ice. Law grunts and you aren’t quick enough to react to how fast Smoker raises his staff and slams it into Law’s face.

The impact is loud, but where you expect blood and flesh, there’s only green wood. 

“Sea-prism stone, huh?” 

You spin, seeing Law with his katana ready. Smoker meets him halfway, the metal connecting again. Instead of staying there, the katana keeps going, the momentum too fast to slow, and the mountain of icebergs and battleship Law created before slices in half. 

The Marines below are still in Seam, and you freeze at the realisation—they’re going to get crushed. 

You’re torn but ultimately choose to return their souls to their bodies. The cacophony of noise starts again, and the men flee with terror, confused about where they are. 

They run out of Room, having figured out how to stay safe from Law. A lone Marine runs for Tashigi and picks her up, taking her with him. 

Behind you, Law and Smoker keep fighting. Grunts and snarls combine with the ringing of metal on metal to create a symphony of a duel. 

You watch the Marines leave, doing nothing to stop them—your objective now is to find out why there were children inside the laboratory and how you didn’t know after being here for a month. Where was Caesar hiding them? And for what reason? It sickens you. 

Debris flies in Room; Law’s ability is perfectly altered, so nothing hits you. A harsh call of your name causes you to spin. 

Law stands behind a jagged piece of rock, Smoker’s body leaning over it—the wild look in his eye returning. 

“Scalpel.” 

You run, feet slipping in the snow. With your hands outstretched, threads weave quickly to catch the heart that flies out of Smoker’s back. The Vice Admiral heaves, his body stuck in slow motion as he realises what happened. You know the look all too well. 

You flick your finger to send his heart to Law, who catches it. Smoker falls to his knees, his cigars falling from between his teeth and extinguishing. 

“You can beg,” Law snarls. “But I don’t have to tell you a damn thing.” 

You wince when you round the rock as Smoker grunts and falls face-first into the snow. 

“C’mon.” 

You trail behind Law before catching up to him. He holds Smoker’s heart in his palm. 

“We need to find Caesar,” You say, watching him shove the heart inside his coat. “Creepy bastard.” 

Law’s jaw is set. “I’m gonna kill him.” 

You click your tongue. “You told me I wasn’t allowed to, so you can’t. Not until the plan is done. We need him.” 

“I—”

“Hey! Hello!” 

Your mouth opens slightly. “No…”

“Whatcha doin’ out here?” 

A smile breaks across your face, and you stop. Law keeps walking, only pausing because you do. “Luffy!” 

Law’s eyes widen. “Straw Hat.” 

You laugh; it’s wild and full of joy. “Luffy!”

Your Captain cackles and screams your name. “Hey!”

There’s a collective gasp, and then several heads peek out behind Brownbeard’s back: Robin, Zoro, Usopp, Brook.

You cover your mouth with your hand, the emotions you’ve kept suppressed finally exploding when they all jump down and rush you. 

Robin is the first to slam into you, her arms tight around your shoulders. “Look at you.” 

Tears stream down your cheeks, your cheeks hurting. 

“Hey, it’s my turn,” Zoro grumbles, waving Robin away before his arm circles your neck and pulls you into his shoulder. 

“Yo ho ho ho!” Brook laughs. “Isn’t it nice to see you…” 

Usopp runs into the back of Zoro, his hands clutching the sleeves of your jacket. “You’re here!” 

“I missed you guys,” You laugh. 

“We missed you!” Robin says, giggling behind her hand. 

“Get off her,” Luffy yells. “My turn!” 

Usopp and Zoro are yanked from your body, and you have half a mind to prepare for the impact of Luffy pulling you toward him with his rubber arms. 

“I’m so happy you’re okay!” Luffy exclaims, wrapping his arms around you ten times. 

You choke out a sob. “I’m happy you guys are okay. I’m so sorry I couldn’t meet you at Sabaody.” 

“Don’t worry about it!” Usopp says. “The only thing you missed on Fishman Island was Sanji bleeding out every 10 seconds.” 

You shake your head with disbelief. “Why am I not surprised?”

You all laugh together before you notice the extra legs hanging off Luffy’s lower back. Your mouth opens to ask about it, but Zoro cuts you off. 

“Don’t ask. It’s a long story.” 

You nod and point back at Law. “That’s Law.”

“I know you,” Zoro eyes him suspiciously. “You were at Sabaody.” 

Law doesn’t acknowledge it; his attention is solely on you. He won’t admit it, but his chest is full of warmth—your smile never fails to make him feel this way. 

“Thanks for helping me back at Marineford,” Luffy says, stopping his stride in front of Law. 

Law’s annoyed that Luffy pulled his focus away from you. “Don’t mention it.”

“Nami, Franky, Sanji, and Chopper were here before,” You say. “Did you get separated?” 

Robin furrows her eyebrows. “Here? They’re meant to be on the Sunny.” 

“Idiots…”

“Of course, they are…”

“They’re here?” 

“Hey, over there,” Usopp yells, his arm straight out. You turn, your attention diverted. “There’s a Marine on the ground.” 

You look to where Usopp points. “That’s Smokey.” 

Luffy’s ears perk up. “Smokey?” 

You gasp when you see Tashigi running straight for Law, tears on her face. “Damn you!”

The Marines follow close behind her, their expressions twisted with anger. 

“Really?” Law sighs. “Room.” 

He takes his katana and jabs the air several times, but it’s enough. “Shambles.”

Tashigi stumbles, gripping her chest. The Vice Admiral and his Captain stay down, their bodies limp in the snow. 

“Are they dead?” Zoro asks, his voice low. You shake your head. 

“Luffy, we gotta go!” Usopp screams. “Marines, incoming!” 

“Wait,” Your captain says, glancing at Law. “Traffy—”

“Head to the back of the lab. You’ll see what you’re looking for.”

Luffy nods and makes a sound of confirmation that he understands, and then he looks at you. “You coming with?” 

Your eyes widen, your throat growing tight. “What?”

“Are you coming with us?”

Your crew is silent, the yells of the Marines inching closer with every second. “I–uh, I—”

“Never mind!” Usopp cuts you off; his voice is full of panic. Brownbeard has already taken off with him and the others, leaving you and Luffy alone. “Luffy! Hurry up!” 

“I’ll see you soon,” Luffy says, a smile on his face. 

You don’t return it and nod. “Okay.” 

Law stands in the doorway, eyes tracking Luffy as he enters the fog. You make it up the steps with a frown, noticing the heart in Law’s grip. Smoker’s heart. 

“C’mon,” Law turns, closing the door when you’re safely inside. “You okay?” 

“I think so,” You wipe your forehead with the back of your hand. Law knows not to push further, to let you digest your emotions before he asks again. He gives you a sidelong glance when you fall into step beside him, concern swimming in his gaze. 

“What now?” You ask, pulling the ends of the fingers of your gloves. You peel them off and shove them into your pocket. 

“I need to speak to Caesar.” 

— Scene 4 —

“What have you done now, Law?” Caesar snaps. You hover behind Law, eyes darting around the room. 

“Nothing,” Law says nonchalantly. “I took care of it.” 

“Why was the Navy here in the first place?” The scientist asks, eyeing Law suspiciously. 

He shrugs, resting his ankle on his knee as he leans back on the couch. “Distress call, apparently.” 

Caesar’s gaze moves to you. “Are you distressed?” 

Law scoffs, clicking his fingers to divert the scientist’s attention from you to him. “Not from her. But perhaps from one of the tens of children you’ve been keeping here…”

Monet makes a sound from the corner, her wings unfurling slightly. “Watch it.”

Caesar’s eyes widen. “You didn’t tell the Navy, did you?” 

“They saw for themselves.”

“Argh! Get out,” Caesar growls. “I need to figure this out.” 

The door clicks behind you, and you bring the Earpiece Transponder Snail to your ear and adjust it. 

“I should’ve known you’d do this.” 

You wink at Law and press the top of the Snail. A crackling sound comes through the receiver. You planted a Black Transponder Snail under the couch Law was sitting on. 

The call is outgoing, and you concentrate on the voices. One is Caesar, the other, you’ve never heard. It’s deep and jesty, the tone getting harsher with every request Caesar makes. 

The call ends, and you relay it to Law when you walk down the hallway. A room moves with you, Law effectively removing all sound within the dome from the outside. It’s helped you more times than you can count. 

“He says, ‘I can kill them all. The Straw Hats, the G-5 crew, and Firefox Kin’emon. Joker will ensure the losses are officially listed as sea accidents.” 

“Joker, huh?” 

Your eyebrows tug together. “Who is that?” 

“Doflamingo.” 

Men in yellow suits run past you, and you guess they’re on their way to find your crew and the children. 

“What?” Your voice is close to a growl, stopping abruptly. “That’s who I heard… he sounds insane.” 

The voice on the Transponder Snail was bone-chilling. 

Law doesn’t look at you. “You know he is.” 

When Law told you of his childhood a year ago, within the safety of his Room, you didn’t realise just how evil Donquixote Doflamingo was. Law cut open his chest and bared himself to you, his voice raw and eyes glassy. He told you how he met Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi and found his crew. It ended with you in tears and Law’s head in your neck, your fingers working out the tiny tangles in his hair. As he calmed down, you spoke of your childhood—the girl stuck in Seam, your parents, Luffy saving your island, and you joining his crew. The night was a dark one, one you don’t wish to recall that often, but it was vulnerable, your souls intertwining with no way of undoing them. You’ve been attached at the hip since, challenging Bepo’s position as Law’s favourite—he would never tell Bepo, but it’s you. 

“What do we do?” 

“Continue with the plan.”

— Scene 5 —

Continuing with the plan went as you expected. Badly.

The sea prism chains around your body make you dizzy. They rub against your skin, leaving it raw. You curse whoever discovered the stone was harmful to Devil Fruit users. 

Someone is talking, but you can’t hear them, your head too full of cotton to comprehend anything. You know Law lies beside you, and Luffy is on the other side of him. Robin and Franky are to your left, and Smoker and Tashigi sit opposite them. The cell is small, from what you saw when your eyes opened for a moment before you fell back into the abyss. 

With closed eyes, you groan, trying to shift your hip into a different position—being like this is severely uncomfortable. 

“You shouldn’t put your trust in others, Law,” Caesar taunts, and your eyes fly open. It doesn’t make sense he would say that unprovoked unless—

“No,” You gasp, wriggling on the spot, pushing your arms out to try and break the chains. “No! Please!” 

Law turns to you quickly, seeing your panic-stricken expression. His eyes scan your body for any sign of injury, his heart racing at the possibility of you being hurt.

“I see your little assistant has figured it out, shurororo,” Caesar laughs. “If you’re worried about your heart, Vergo’s taking good care of it.” 

Vergo. The name races through your mind; where had you heard that before? 

The man stands behind the scientists on the other side of the wire, his grip around a blue cube holding a heart with an erratic heartbeat. But it can’t be. It should be the heart of the pirate Law stole it from, not his actual heart. 

But your disbelief is punctured when Law screams out in agony, his body writhing. 

“I’m sorry,” You cry, watching Law squeeze his eyes shut. “Please, stop.”

“I know you’re a rather shrewd man, but you never thought to worry about my secretary,” Caesar says, and you can’t bear to look. 

It’s all your fault. “I’m sorry.”

He moans, his body slowly lengthening back to normal. 

“It’s okay,” Law exhales, voice gravelly. “It’s not your fault.”

“Are you okay, Traffy?”

“What’s not her fault?” Robin pipes up, her head tilted. 

You don’t look at her; you focus solely on the man beside you. It's a silent conversation through your eyes, with a painful frown on your face. 

Law glares at you through his lashes; the guilt of giving you the responsibility of his heart in the first place eats at him. “It’s not your fault. I asked you to.”

For someone wrapped in sea prism stone and having his heart in the enemy’s grip, Law is oddly energetic. You eye him suspiciously; indeed, if he did have a plan, he’d have told you… 

You shake your head, not hearing him. 

“Enough domestics,” If looks could kill, Caesar’d be dead. “I thought I’d found a friend in you, Law. I’m disappointed.” 

The captain pauses the heaving of his chest, a smirk gracing his mouth. “So, it was all her, huh? Fine, I can admit that I wasn’t wary of her. That one’s on me. I just didn’t expect someone so smart to work for such a dumbass.” 

Caesar grunts, his fist swinging toward Law’s heart again. 

You shake your head, the adrenaline in your veins heightening as law keens over in pain again. 

“You’re amazing, Traffy,” Luffy says mindlessly. “He has your heart, but you’re still alive. Cool!” 

Smoker scoffs from the corner. “Pathetic… what’d you do with mine?”

Caesar breaks your staring contest with the Admiral, giggling as he raises another blue cube. “You mean this? Shurororo.” 

Smoker makes a disgruntled sound. “You son of a—”

“Uh uh,” The scientist smiles. “Who’s in control right now?”

“Master,” Monet appears behind him, and you jolt against the chains. You bare your teeth at her, pure rage coursing through you at the sight of her. She must’ve searched your unconscious body for Law’s heart since you never parted with it. The thought makes you shiver. “The feed’s ready.” 

A large white sheet dispenses from the ceiling, and a bright visual of outside the laboratory flashes on the screen. There’s a large blue-striped candy positioned in the middle. 

Caesar holds a device in his hand that you assume is connected to a monstrous number of Transponder Snails. “This is Smiley!”

You furrow your eyebrows, seeing a giant magenta slime ball moving feverishly in the snow. 

“He’s a living incarnation of the toxic H2S gas that destroyed this island four years ago!” 

A memory flashes in your mind; you sit in Law’s office on the Polar Tang, looking over photos in a book. 

“Two years ago, when Vegapunk was using the island, the island exploded when one of his scientists threw a fit with his Devil Fruit, rendering it uninhabitable…”

You gasp, using the limited movement of your hand to hit Law’s bicep. He nods, knowing what you’ve just realised. 

“That was the problem with my last test,” Caesar continues. “They were saturated with the deadly gas, but they were still able to evacuate. Boring! Disappointing! So I made a new one!” 

You cringe and look at Robin, whose usually stoic expression is slightly twisted. 

“The candy here boosts his poisonous composition, making him one hundred times more deadly, shurororo!”

“This is bad,” Tashigi mumbles; it’s the first time you’ve heard her speak since you’ve been awake. 

“Now, let the party begin!” 

On the screen, the slimy ball erupts; its face starts melting down, and the bottom of it turns gaseous. Hundreds of people are outside the lab, their bodies like ants on the video feed. 

You watch as the gas swallows them, and when there’s no movement from beyond the purple clouds, you balk. 

“This is crazy,” Smoker mumbles. 

“Everyone out there,” Luffy says. “They’re all going to die.” 

The cage jolts and creaks. Your body sways with the movement. “What’s happening?” 

“Shurororororo. Have fun!”

There’s a crack and metal on metal behind you, and then the cage swings backward. An icy wind hits you, and snow immediately starts pelting the cell. 

“Fucking hell,” Smoker grumbles as the cage starts rising. The swaying isn’t doing you any good, the ground getting further and further away.  

Luffy shivers, his teeth chattering. “I’m gonna be sick.”

“No, you’re not,” Robin says. “Enjoy the ride.” 

You feel the cage rock, but being suspended this high isn’t as scary as the impending gas.

The sudden commotion of cheering has you paying attention to the ground. There are hundreds of Marines surrounding the cage, and Tashigi gasps, throwing herself against the wall of the cell. 

The cage lowers, and the chains holding it creak under its weight. 

“No…” She whimpers, her eyes wide as she looks up. Above you, the purple gas looms. It moves fast and isn’t showing any signs of slowing. 

“I gotta say,” Franky chimes in, making you blink out of your stupor. “They really built this lab as a fortress, huh?”

Robin shrugs a shoulder. “Very true.”

Tashigi makes a sound of indignation. “How are you two so calm right now?”

“Yeah,” Luffy ponders. “How are we getting outta this?”

Law sighs, and your attention falls on him. He definitely has a plan he didn’t tell you about, and you’re secretly seething about it. “I wasn’t expecting Vergo, but no matter. Straw Hat, we’re sticking with the plan.” 

You scoff in surprise. “What plan?” 

Robin and Franky smile smugly beside you, and you suddenly feel like an outsider. 

“Time for the counterattack.” 

Luffy leers, his expression turning to one of mischief.

You shake your head. “So everyone knows about this plan but me?” 

“I didn't know,” Tashigi offers, but you huff with frustration. 

You won’t ask Law here, but the idea that you weren’t included stings. He gives you an apologetic look, but you remain deadpan. 

“We need to speed this up,” Law says. “If anyone can burn things, now would be the time to say it.” 

“Franky can burn things!” Luffy laughs. “He’s got laser beams, too!” 

“Can you set fire to that Navy ship down there?” 

“Huh? You mean half a Navy ship?”

“Whatever,” Law mutters. “Yeah.”

“Sweet. Sit back and be impressed, ladies,” Franky jumps to his feet and leans back. You roll your eyes but do so anyway, the back of your head thumping against the metal. “Fireball!” 

The heat speeds past you, warming you briefly before the cold seeps back in. Marines scream as the Navy ship behind them goes up in flames.

The smoke suffocates your lungs, and you cough, the air burning your throat. The air eventually clears, and Franky is nowhere to be seen. You furrow your eyebrows as you look around the small space. 

“Now, what?” 

Law sighs, standing. The chains around him go slack, clanging sharply to the ground. You blink.

“Are you kidding?”

“What?!”

“How did you do that?” Tashigi asks, her voice light. 

Law looks down at you, his hand rubbing his chest. “Caesar’s Transponder Snails can’t see us, so we only have a few minutes to move.” 

“How’d you get those off?” Luffy gapes. 

“I’ve been here for months. I replaced some chains about two weeks ago. I thought something like this would happen.” 

“And I didn’t know because…?”

He sticks out his hand, his katana materialising before him. “We’ll talk about this later.” 

Scoffing, you look away from him, feeling the sea-prism chains loosen around you. “And you just happened to get the normal one?”

Law tries not to take your bitter tone to heart, but he clenches his jaw and slashes his katana around the cage to cut everyone’s chains. 

Once Luffy’s free, he jumps up, screaming with happiness. You’re not in the mood to do the same. 

“Hey, Traffy!” Luffy yells, prying open the wire of the left wall. “Where do we go?” 

Law clicks his tongue. “We’ll start by—”

“Okay!” Luffy flings himself out of the hole, and you watch him freefall. You go to call after him but figure it's useless when he lands on a railing around the main building. 

“Tch,” Law scoffs, glancing at you. “Quickly.”  

“I’m going to see my Sunny!” Franky exclaims. “See ya!”

The purple cloud isn’t far away, and the sight of it causes anxiety to prickle your insides. It spills over the mountain, and Law uses Shambles to transport you, Smoker, Tashigi, and Robin inside the laboratory. 

Law directs you away from them immediately, tugging you down the hall. 

“This way.”

— Scene 6 —

Law walks beside you, his steps light. You don’t speak but are eager to see where the SAD room has been. 

There is a rattling of footsteps in front of you, and when the men in the yellow suits point their weapons at you, you sigh. Law quickly slices them down using Room, and then you look up. 

A giant door sits in the wall, and Law clears his throat. “This is it.” 

You look behind you. “It was in Building D the whole time?” 

Law says nothing as the doors creak and a siren starts blaring. The doors start sliding open, and the alarms get louder. There’s nobody behind you but the severed torsos of the yellow-suited men, and you follow Law inside when he steps inside. 

“Hm,” Law hums, a smirk on his face. You glance at him and shake your head with disbelief. This is it. This is what you’ve been working toward for almost two years. The realisation makes your heart race. 

“Law…” You exhale, spinning slowly as you take it in. 

The giant SAD tanks loom ominously over you, the bubbling sounds from within them making it all the more unsettling. Now, it’s easy. 

Law draws his katana, the blade reflecting the red lights of the tanks. Anticipation fills the space between you, and you forget why you’re mad at him in the first place. 

You open your mouth to say something, anything to quell the tension between you when a voice echoes through the factory. 

“It feels like I’ve been bitten by my own dog, Law.” 

Law exhales softly and turns, returning his sword to its scabbard while you freeze, the voice familiar. 

“It’s such a shame, Law,” Vergo says. “People like you, so smart, tend to die at a young age.”

You turn, flicking your finger up to summon Sew. A thread weaves around his neck, tightening before Vergo uses armament haki to snap it. 

“It’d be easiest for me to kill you by crushing your heart,” Vergo continues, ignoring your advances. “But that’s no fun. So, I’m going to torment you slowly. Maybe with her—”

Before you can comprehend, he appears in front of Law, slamming his chin up with a bamboo stick. You gasp, staggering away as he continues to hammer Law, pointedly ignoring you. 

It’s been a blur since then. 

The memory makes you falter, a fist knocking you to the floor, your cheek numb. He’s fast. 

Law is across the room, on the verge of passing out. 

“Vergo,” His voice is gravelly, his tone harsh as he says the name. The man watches you heave on the ground, cocking his head and ignoring Law. 

Vergo slinks toward you, his sunglasses obscuring his eyes. “Joker’s been interested in you.”

You clench your jaw tight to stop the shutter that goes through you. Vergo was the one who got Corazon killed. By some cruel twist of fate, this man led to the demise of your lover's best friend.

Law growls from where he lies across the room, slipping in and out of consciousness. 

“You and him have… similar abilities. He wants to meet you.”

“Go to hell,” You wheeze, gritting your teeth. Vergo scoffs a laugh as you cough, a metallic taste flooding your mouth; one of your molars is loose on your tongue, and you realise it just freed itself from when Vergo punched you—you must’ve kept it in place when you set your jaw. 

Law mumbles your name, his hand reaching for you. You spit your tooth out, the molar bouncing on the floor. Vergo walks back over to Law, a familiar blue cube in his hand. 

“Seems you and Law have become close. Joker’s going to have a field day,” Vergo laughs, tightening his grip on Law’s heart. You cry out as Law does. 

“Stop!” You try to yell, your body curling in on itself. The room spins, and you blink away the darkness from your eyes. 

Law grunts, his breathing ragged, and he clutches his chest. “Room.” 

The heart in Vergo’s hand disappears, and when you look at Law, he holds it. You sigh with relief, moving to try and stand. 

But he’s too quick; Vergo rushes Law, kicking him in the stomach, causing him to slam into the railing on the other side of the room. Law coughs, blood dripping from his mouth. The heart flies from the impact, and Vergo catches it. 

“No,” You cry, clawing yourself toward them, your hand flipping slightly to summon Seam.

But as the word slips from your lips, Vergo charges for you, his haki-laced fist punching your cheek. Seam falters; Vergo’s conscience controls his body, but you can feel his soul within you. It’s angry and haughty, the soul struggling against your ability.

“Wha–?”

Law goes flying backwards as Vergo hits him again, his beloved hat knocked off his head and disappearing into the depths of the laboratory. He pants, his hand covering his chest as he reaches his right hand forward. “Counter Shock.” 

Vergo freezes, his body twitches, and smoke erupts from his chest. “I have a message from Joker. He says it’s a shame it had to turn out this way.” 

You scoff weakly, pushing yourself to your feet while Law uses the railing to support himself. There’s blood dripping from Law’s lip, and you doubt you look much better. But as Vergo keeps talking, you register that Law’s attack didn’t work, and from the way his eyes widen, you know he’s realised, too. 

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” Law cuts him off, a tactic he’s used many times. It’s his favourite, you’ve gathered after being with him for two years, to throw off his opponent. “I should’ve known you were his lackey. Don’t you have better things to do?”

“Tch,” Vergo cocks his head, his hand tightening around Law's heart again. “You’re not the only one I’m after.”

You’ll never get used to the screams that escape Law, the sound motivating you to approach Vergo from behind. Silently, a needle takes shape in your fist, and you raise it, aiming for Vergo’s head. 

Around you, the SAD tanks rumble, the red light of the emergency lights casting an eerie hue. Law’s shrieks echo, and just as Vergo lets up the assault on Law’s heart, you swing, changing course at the last moment. 

Sew didn’t work earlier, and it hasn’t worked since, with Vergo using his armament haki to prevent the threads from doing any damage. But this time, instead of hitting him, you jab the needle straight into his back. 

Law moans out with relief, his limbs weak and his body taking the brunt of the pain. He slides down to the floor, hitting it with a thump. 

Vergo pauses, his head turning to glance at you. Your needle protrudes from him, just between his shoulder blades, but he’s not affected. You inhale sharply.

“Really? Now? I’m in the middle of something.” 

You whine with frustration and step back. Vergo approaches you, his nose leaking blood—turns out he is human. 

You breathe heavily, your feet slipping as you stumble backward. 

“I’m right here,” Law calls weakly. “Don’t touch her.” 

Vergo stops his advance and squeezes Law’s heart again. You falter, watching Vergo torment him. 

“Shut up. Lay there and wait until I’m ready for you. I’ve got to deal with her first.” 

“No!” Law pants, voice desperate. “I’m your opponent.” 

Vergo ignores him before vanishing. You try to even out your breathing, to balance yourself, and clear your head. You need to fight. 

“Needles,” You whisper, your head on a swivel. He could be anywhere. You move before he appears, your needle stopping Vergo from hitting you with the bamboo stick. You let out a sound of surprise, jumping back and preparing for his next attack. 

He cocks his head—he wasn’t expecting you to have observation haki. You barely notice the improvement of your haki, arms burning with each meeting of his weapon on yours. It’s fast and tiring, but you channel your ability, using Seam to suppress his soul. 

Vergo growls, his movement getting more erratic with each swing. He ducks, but another needle emerges in your other hand when he does so. You drop the one Vergo is concentrated on and clutch the new one with both hands, swinging it directly into his forehead. You unknowingly infuse it with haki at the last minute and send Vergo flying backward. 

Law laughs weakly, pride evident in the sound. You don’t let it distract you before you vanish. When Vergo’s body slumps slightly, Law sighs. 

You dodge Vergo’s attack as soon as you enter Seam; the man seems to know exactly where you’d be before you arrive. 

Letting out a surprised squeal, you point a needle at his jugular before he moves again.

“I’m in control here,” You pant, a slight grin on your lips. 

Vergo raises an eyebrow. “We’ll see about that, Dreamweaver.” 

You blink at the nickname, speechless. 

“Oh, you don’t know what you are, do you?” He laughs, using your shock as an opportunity to punch you. You swiftly avoid it, your body light inside your mindscape. “Joker has a lot to tell you.”

You scowl, holding a needle like a spear and stabbing him. “Joker’s not telling me shit. When I see him, I’m going to kill him.” 

Vergo scoffs, not bothering to check on the slash on his arm from your needle, the fluff of his white coat poking through the fabric. “I would advise against that. You are worth so much more than… this.” 

“Shut up!” You shout, continuously cutting him down with the little energy you have left—fighting inside Seam always takes a toll on you. Vergo takes the hits. 

“I’m not allowed to kill you,” He says. “Joker’s orders.” 

“If you say that name one more time…”

Vergo turns his head to spit blood. “You could be a god.” 

Shaking your head, your needle pierces his stomach. “Shut up!” 

You watch his soul go limp, hyperventilating as you process what just happened. The blood seeping onto the lush grass pisses you off. You clench your jaw to stop the emotions from overflowing and return to the material world. 

Law cries your name, his body hunched over where he sits. You rush over to him, your hands on his shoulders. 

“You okay?” 

He nods, pointing weakly at Vergo’s body. “He’s not dead.”

“I know,” You say, quickly snatching the blue cube from Vergo’s hand. “Here.”

“Thanks,” Law gulps, taking his heart with a shaky hand. “Scalpel.”

After he slots his heart back into his chest, wincing as he goes, Law brings you close to him. You wrap your arms around him and shove his face into your neck. 

“We have a lot to talk about when we’re outta here,” You whisper, a tear falling from your eye. 

Law hums. “Is this because I didn’t tell you the plan?” 

Straight to the point.

“Of course it is!” You exclaim, pulling away from him. You wipe another tear that rolls. “If you don’t trust me—”

“—you’re kidding, right?—”

“—I know you, Law. I know you want to protect me, and I know by not telling me the plan, you were protecting me from Vergo’s torture,” You look over at the man. There’s no doubt that if he got his hands on you, he would’ve tortured you for information—you’re Law’s 'assistant', after all. “I know and appreciate it; I appreciate you more than ever. But I can keep my mouth shut; I can be trusted. I’ve been with you for two years and never betrayed your trust like that.”

“It’s not about trust,” Law mumbles, tracing the bruise forming on your arm. “It’s about them.” 

“Who?” You ask, voice dangerous. “You better not be talking about Luffy.”

He bangs his fist softly on the floor. “Vergo. Doflamingo. Everyone from my past that can hurt you. You didn’t sign up for this when we got together.” 

At the sound of Doflamingo, your breath hitches in your throat. Law notices immediately. “What did he say to you? Vergo?” 

“He says Joker has a lot to tell me. He called me Dreamweaver.” 

Law makes a sound of frustration. “Fuck.” 

“You know what that is?” 

“No. But I’ve heard of legends with the same name. There’s no way…” He trails off, seemingly deep in thought.

You shake your head, focusing on the task at hand, trying to wipe the dried blood from the corner of his mouth to gain his attention.

“Anyway, I signed up for everything to do with you when we got together,” You say. “And none of those egotistical assholes scare me.”

“They should,” Law’s eyes peer into yours. “I’m scared of him.” 

“Law…”

“I can’t lose you,” He whispers, voice cracking. “If Doflamingo knows what you are to me, I’m scared of what he’ll do.” 

You reach for his arm, tugging him close again. “I get it.” 

“I know you’re strong, far stronger than me, and you can handle yourself. But I’m a selfish man.”

The only sounds in the factory are those of the tanks. You move to stand, helping Law to his feet. Having his heart back has made Law return to his usual self as you watch him summon his hat and katana back. He sighs when the hat fits smugly back on his head. 

“Ready to destroy this thing?”

“Not so fast.”

You cringe, Law’s hand tight around yours. Vergo stands there when you turn, his coat gone and body purple with armament haki. You freeze at the sight, Law removing his hand from yours to grip his katana, unsheathing it with an unimpressed look on his face—a sure sign that he knows he’ll win. 

Vergo doesn’t speak and speeds towards you, Law’s body poised and ready, like a true fighter. 

“Duck,” He says, and you do, watching in awe and horror as Vergo’s torso separates from his legs. It isn’t until you look up that you realise the room—the mountain—is split in two as well. 

You gape, tears filling your eyes. A devilish smile splits his face, and you return to your full height. 

“You’re incredible,” You murmur, not sparing a glance at Vergo’s mutilated body. Law scoffs, a hand on your hip as you search his grey eyes. 

Distant screams have you looking at the entrance and Law huffs. He casts his gaze over to Vergo, a sadistic gleam in his eye that excites you. “We have to get to Building R. But I’ve something to do before then.” 

— Scene 7 —

You stand against the mast of the Sunny, the celebrations on the ice below doing nothing to bring you out of your foul mood. A missing tooth with bruising and swelling has made you irritable and upset. 

The rest of the mission went smoothly, the only problem being Caesar and the two executives of the Doflamingo family, Baby 5 and Buffalo. Franky was attacked by them before you made it to the beach; their threats of what Doflamingo would do carried away with the wind when everybody else showed up. 

“Keep the ice pack on your jaw!” Chopper demands, lifting your arm back toward your face. You shake the memory from your head, not wanting to worsen your mood. The reindeer wears an uncharacteristic scowl, but under the guise, you see the emotions he hides. He was eager to help you when he saw you again, brushing off Law’s attempts at helping you.

“Sorry,” You mumble, pressing the bag against your face. The icy burn makes you wince, but you keep it there nonetheless. The wind picks up, and you’ve missed the salty air whipping your clothes and hair. 

“I can give you some medicine for the pain, but don’t expect it to do much if you don’t keep it iced,” Chopper says, his authoritative tone fading when he sees the ghost of a smile on your lips. 

Shaking your head, you pat his arm. “Don’t apologise, Chop. It’s my fault. I wasn’t paying attention.” 

“Bullshit.”

You look up from your friend to see Law. He wears his usual irritated, unamused facade, but his eyes shine with something akin to pride when he looks at you.

Chopper moves to stand in front of you. “She’s recovering.” 

“I can see that,” Law says, remaining where he is. “When can I talk to her?”

“Tomorrow—”

“It’s okay, Chop,” You mumble, stepping around him. He looks down at you in his human form, eyes filled with concern. “It’s just Law.”

“Did you see what he did to those children? They were screaming!”

“I was removing the poison from their bloodstreams.”

“It was terrifying.”

You smile. “He’s harmless, Chopper.”

The reindeer spins, jaw slack and eyes wide. “Harmless?! He cut all those Marines in half!”

“They deserved it,” Law says, his katana sliding off his shoulder. He leans it against the wall beside the door to the study. “Anyway, can I please speak to my girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend?!” Chopper almost faints. “I gotta go; this is too much for me. You two are crazy.”

As he stumbles away, Chopper shrinks to his usual size. “Food…” 

Law keeps his eyes on you, his gaze wavering to flicker down to the bruise on your cheek. His jaw ticks, and his face morphs into a scowl. “Tch.”

“I’m okay,” You reassure him, stepping forward and taking his hand in your free one. “We just need to get to Dressrosa now.”

“I’m sorry.”

Your eyebrows tug together. “For what?”

“I didn’t plan on you getting captured. You were meant to be with Nami and the others. That’s why there was only one set of normal chains.”

“Oh,” You whisper, looking up at him. “Law, I forgave you for that the second we were out of there. I knew you had a plan, and I was upset that you didn’t tell me, but it worked out.”

Law shakes his head. “I trust you.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

A memory flashes through your head, and you bite back a smile. “Stop saying sorry.”

Law seems to understand the reference. He pulls your hand into him, your chest bumping his. “I’ve got something to do before we set off. Want to help?”

It sounds sketchy, but you nod, sending him a grin twinged with excitement. 

—

After the ship sets sail following the Log Pose to Dressrosa, your nerves start to dwindle. Law sits beside you against the wall, snow raining down on you softly. 

You look at him. “Are you sure you want to talk to him?”

He scratches his cheek, sighing harshly. “No, but I have to at some point.”

Humming, you watch your friends dance around the deck, admiring the falling snowflakes. With another weight lifted off your chest, you sigh, content. 

“I didn’t expect to be on this ship again,” You mumble. 

Law gives you a sidelong glance, silently urging you to continue. 

“When we got to Punk Hazard, I wanted to go to Sabaody so badly,” You confess, skin tingling with shame. 

“I know.”

Your head whips toward him. “You did?”

Law nods. “You’re not very subtle, you know.” 

“I’m sorry,” You look at your hands in your lap. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”

He tilts his head. “Like what?”

“Like I wanted to leave you because I didn’t. Truly.”

“I know,” He shrugs, voice quiet. “I understand.” 

You squint at him, considering his tone and posture. “Are you okay?”

“I—”

“Hey, Law! The Transponder Snail you asked me to watch is talking!” Robin calls. “And Caesar is chained up in the study.”

“C’mon,” Law rises, his hand outstretched for you to grab ahold of. You take it as a sign he’s not bitter with you—like he never could ever be—and follow him to the study. 

The Snail starts picking up clear dialogue as you sit beside Law, anxiety pouring over you like ice water. You remain locked up in the study; Caesar Clown opposite you with his hands in sea-prism stone cuffs. 

Law leans forward and picks up the receiver. “Colour me surprised. It’s the boss. I didn't think you’d show up in person.”

“Hello, Law. It’s been far too long, hasn’t it? A real shame you didn’t choose to show your face… or that of your assistant.”

The voice sends a shiver down your spine. 

“I figure you wanna know where Caesar is,” Law says. “He’s safely in our hands.” 

The scientist jolts at the sound of his name. “Joker! Where are you? They got me! Help me, please!”

Law shoots him a glare while you threaten him with a needle pointed at his throat. Caesar gulps and whimpers. 

“Question regarding the state of my cohort’s bodies,” Doflamingo barks. “Where are they?”

Law shrugs. “I couldn’t say. Nor does it particularly interest me. Let’s negotiate.” 

Doflamingo hums down the line, and you pray he’ll take the bait. 

“C’mon, Law, get serious,” He cackles. “Quit pretending like you’re an adult, and let’s cut to the chase. Where are you? Where did you take that girl? Answer quickly, or I may get angry.”

You inhale sharply, ignoring the wide-eyed stares from Caesar. 

“Oh, you’ll get angry?” Law taunts, but his fist turns white as he tightens on the receiver. “And what about your business partner… what’s his name again? Oh! Kaido. King of the Beasts, right? An emperor? If there’s anyone you’d wanna keep from getting angry, I think it’d be him.”

Doflamingo grunts as Law continues. 

“I wonder how he might react after he finds out you can’t produce SMILE anymore. Who knows?”

“Alright,” He snaps. “You’ve carried the joke far enough. What do you want to trade for Caesar? And that girl?”

Law’s face falls, clicking his tongue. “She’s not a part of the deal. Never will be. So get her out of your sick head.”

“Pity,” Doflamingo laughs. “I was hoping to meet her, and—“

“Resign from the Seven Warlords.” 

“Hm?” Doflamingo hums, his tone dangerous now that Law is leading the conversation.

“That’s the deal for Caesar. Resign, and you get him back.”

“C’mon!” Another voice echos down the line. “If Joker quits, he’ll be forced to leave Dressrosa!”

“Yeah, well,” Law says, picking at a small hole in his jeans—he’ll have to get you to fix it for him. “Shit happens, and once you’re a lowly pirate once more, the Navy won’t be able to turn a blind eye to you any longer. You have until tomorrow. If there’s a headline in the morning paper saying that you’ve resigned, I’ll give you a call, and you can have your precious Caesar back. But, if I don’t, my offer is as good as dead.”

He reaches forward and places the receiver back on the snail, and Caesar thrashes in his chains. “What? You’re going to kill me if Joker doesn’t resign?”

“I guess we’ll see tomorrow.” 

“And what of her?” 

Law growls. “Don’t even think of her. She’s a part of no deal and never will be.”

Slamming the receiver down on the snail, who gives a little squeak at his aggression, Law stands. You follow him, leaving the study and Caesar inside. Law blinks quickly when he exits into the sun, and you’re quick to grab ahold of his bicep. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah, are you?” Law’s tongue darts out to wet his lower lip. “Fuck, that was—”

“Exhilarating,” You leer, pursing your lips to suppress your grin when he catches the excited look on your face. Sure, Doflamingo scares the shit out of you, but you can’t help the adrenaline that runs rampant through your veins at pissing him off. 

“Yeah, okay.”

You lace your fingers with his to bring him back to you. His mind is miles away, and the simple act of squeezing his hand rids him of the faraway look in his eye. “And now we wait.” 

— Scene 9 —

Salty air swirls around you. The overwhelming scent in the breeze used to make your senses sharper; now, they lull you into relaxation. The sun is harsh, beating down on your skin, but you welcome it, missing the feeling of being on open seas. 

Beams reflect off the deep blue, enticing you to jump in. The urge is irresistible, and you would, if you could, the soul of your Devil Fruit coercing you to dive in, to repent for the sin of eating it. But you hold back, strengthening the grip of your fingers on the railing. 

The horizon is vast, with nothing in sight except for the light blue of the sky and the tantalising indigo of the ocean. You wonder how long it took for the first human to venture out on the seas and if you could have waited as long as they did—the waves too mesmerising to ignore for longer than a single minute. You long to plunge into the icy water, submerge your mind, and just exist. The depths are so close you can taste it.

The steady sway of the Thousand Sunny is enough to bring you to tears, though they don’t fall. You squint at the bow of the ship, the outline of the figurehead and your captain sitting atop it, a familiar sight that sends deep ripples of nostalgia and bliss through your chest. 

Someone joins you, their forearm against yours on the railing. You already know who it is before they speak. 

“Brought you a snack,” He says, offering you a round, plump tangerine. You smirk, watching him spin the fruit in his hand. 

“Nami’s going to kill you.” 

He shrugs, using his thumbs to pierce the top of the tangerine and peel the skin away from the flesh. “Worth it if you get to enjoy it.” 

You turn to face him, watching his expressions with keen interest. Law isn’t a man who believes he wears his heart on his sleeve, but you know better. He’s hiding his true feelings, and with the negotiation with Doflamingo up in the air, you know that his furrowed eyebrows and chapped lips are the outcome of anxiety rather than whatever excuse he would tell you.

Law removes a segment of the fruit, holding it out for you to take. His grey eyes twinkle in the sunlight, and you ponder the true shade of them—you’ve never seen him like this, fully submerged in sunshine. 

You pluck the tangerine slice from his fingertips and bite into it. The juice slides down your fingers, the sweet tang of citrus fresh on your tongue. 

“Silver.”

Law raises an eyebrow slightly, offering you another piece. “Hm?”

“Your eyes are silver,” You say, licking the sticky sweetness from your fingertip. “Not grey.”

Law doesn’t reply; instead, he opens his mouth to accept the segment you press against his lips. Your eyes don’t leave his as he bites into it, juice dripping from his chin. A smile spreads across your cheeks as he wipes it away with the back of his hand, eyeing you with faux annoyance. 

“You think so?”

You nod, using your thumb to dry the corner of his lip. “I know so, and they’re gorgeous.”

He snorts and shakes his head, the tangerine peel clutched in his palm. “Yeah, okay, sweetheart…”

A frown takes over your once joyful expression, and Law sighs, looking to the sky. “Okay, they’re alright.”

You laugh, the sound falling from your lips with such furore that Law inhales sharply at the mere thought of never hearing it again. 

“You’re gorgeous,” He mumbles, clasping his palms around your fingers and keeping them against his chest. “You’re the most precious soul alive.”

You pout; his gaze is intense in the daylight. Your heart swells in your chest; the pressure is almost unbearable. A giddy squeal leaves your mouth, and you jump up and wrap your arms around his neck. 

“Who knew Trafalgar D. Water Law could be such a sap.” 

Law's stomach turns as your lips form the letters of his full name. It’s surprising and terrifying, but it’s you. And when you finish saying his real name, he closes his eyes. He doesn’t know how to digest the truth that you’re saying it from a place of love, not malice.

When he cracks an eye open to see your wide grin, his shoulders relax, the tension receding from his body like the ocean at low tide; Law’s glassy, silver eyes search yours, and you lean forward to capture his lips.

He hums in content, tightening his hold around your waist. The affection has been a long time coming, having been on Punk Hazard for a few months, and it’s more rewarding than anything you could dream of. You giggle, Law pinching your side.

“Thanks for bringing me a tangerine,” You whisper, curling your bottom lip into your mouth to taste the remnants of the sweet fruit. 

Law’s eyes flicker down to your mouth. “Always.”

A large bird flies overhead, in his talons, a newspaper. 

“Law,” You swallow thickly, eyes following the creature until the paper drops on the deck. You tug him along quickly, feet slapping against the wood floors as you rush for the main area. 

The grass is plush under your feet when you jump from the third step onto it. In Usopp’s hands is the newspaper, his fingers slightly crushing the thin pages. He holds it out to you, which you take and pass to Law. 

His exhale is shaky as he reads the headline: Donquixote Doflamingo Resigns as Warlord of the Sea. 

“We have to call him!” Luffy exclaims as he bursts from the kitchen. “He resigned!” 

But Law’s already got the ringing Transponder Snail in his hand, the receiver in front of his lips. It rings for a while, and you’re unsure if Doflamingo will answer. 

Click.

“I resigned. Happy now?” 

“Tch,” Law tuts, swerving the phone away from Luffy, who is trying to grab it. “We’re handing Caesar over to you.”

“Well, that was the deal,” Doflamingo growls. “Now, put me onto my business partner. I want to confirm that he’s right where he’s supposed to be.”

Franky pulls Caesar out from the study, the scientist’s face alight with relief. He shuffles over, his shackled hands gripping the receiver when Law shoves it in his direction. “Joker! I’m so sorry! You resigned from the Warlords all because of me!”

Law yanks the receiver away. “He’s fine.”

“Great,” Doflamingo’s voice is slimy, making you grimace. 

“We’ll meet eight hours from now, on the southeast side of Green Bit.”

Usopp, Chopper, and Luffy’s ears perk up at the mention of a new island, their fingers inching to snatch the snail from Law. 

“We’ll leave Caesar there for you at 3pm. Pick him up, and this will be over.”  

A deep, rumbling laugh emerges from the snail. “Don’t say that. I was hoping to meet your girlfriend. I hear she’s got an interesting ability—”

Law grunts and slams the receiver back on the snail’s shell. He runs his tongue over his teeth, breathing heavily. How did Doflamingo find out about his relationship with you? 

“Fuck,” He curses, tugging his hand off his head. You remain still, mind racing. “Fuck.”

The crew is silent. 

“There were no other conditions?” Sanji pipes up. You look at him, confused, your brain swimming with apprehension. You want to pay attention to what Sanji is proposing, but the sick feeling in your stomach overpowers your ability to think straight. Doflamingo knows. 

“Why would there be?” Usopp asks nervously. 

“What if he brings an entire crew with him?”

Usopp and Chopper scream, Nami looking slightly green beside them. 

“That won’t happen,” Law mumbles absentmindedly. “Caesar is a distraction. If he brings more people, that would be better for us.”

“Oh!” Like a lightbulb went off in his head, Usopp stands up straight. “If he brings more people to the tradeoff, then less people will be guarding the SMILE factory?” 

“Exactly. The only problem is, we need to find it.” 

“So, we need a plan,” You finally get a grip on reality, knowing what the word means to the Straw Hats. 

“I was thinking we just wing it!” Luffy laughs, placing his hands on the back of his head. You were expecting this, but from the look on Law’s face, he wasn’t. “Take a trip to Dressrosa, destroy the factory—ooh! Maybe we can swing by Wano when we’re done!”

“No,” Law shakes his head, and you know it’s useless. “We’re going in there blind; we need a plan.”

“Sanji! I’m hungry. What’s on the menu?” 

Law growls, and you giggle lightly when you step up beside him. “I could’ve told you that wouldn't have worked.” 

“Sandwiches.”

“Oooh! I want a cotton candy sandwich!” 

“Just a cup of tea, please.”

“Cola for me!” 

“Where’d you put the booze?” 

“Milk for me!” 

“You guys are boring. Sanji’s sandwiches are the best!”

The rest of the crew follows Luffy up the stairs and into the galley. Law stares in disbelief as they all disappear behind the door. 

“Sorry, but I don’t like bread!” Law yells after them, his expression twisted into one of anguish. You continue to laugh as he gasps at how easily the secret fell from his lips. He glances at you and tuts. “Shut up, you.” 

“I’ll tell Sanji to make rice balls,” You wink before making your way up the stairs and into the galley. Pretending like you aren’t going straight into a death trap is one of your favourite pastimes, and teasing Law is more fun than stewing with anxiety in the darkness of your room. 

Law scrunches his nose, mulling over the thought of stacks of bread before him. 

“Are you just going to leave me here to starve?” 

Law’s usual stoic facade falls back into place as he observes Caesar sitting on the grass. There’s no hesitation when he answers. “Yes.” 

And then he follows your footsteps.

— Scene 10 —

The sight of land after sailing never fails to make your chest warm. Every time you’ve done it, it’s exciting, daunting, frightening, confronting, and unpredictable—and every time, you leave feeling like you’ve achieved something bigger than you could have imagined. Being a Straw Hat pirate is honest work. 

After this morning’s feast of sandwiches, or in Law’s case, rice balls, you formulated a plan. It was shoddy at best because everyone and nobody contributed to the final idea, and while you were used to it, Law was at his wit's end. 

He watches in horror as Luffy jumps off the side of the Sunny, screaming all the way down. You don’t need to check to see that he landed on solid ground; he always does. 

“Luffy!” Usopp scolds over the edge of the ship. “Shut it! We’re in enemy territory.”

Franky is next to disembark, his voice loud as he joins Luffy in discussing what they will do on the island. Usopp is having a meltdown, his anxiety palpable. 

“Straw Hat,” Law calls when his feet land on the island. You’re not far behind, coddling a stressed Usopp. “We can go into town; just don’t take any unnecessary risks. We don’t need—”

“Oh, hey! I just had a great idea,” Luffy exclaims, running over to Nami and Momonosuke. “Let me ride you, dragon!”

Law glares at him with a frown as he runs away. “Tch.”

“I can’t fly!” Momonosuke yells, fear evident in his tone. You ignore the conversation after that, walking over to Law when Usopp has calmed down. Your friends continue their usual antics, egging each other on and arguing about who's more of a man. 

You glance at Law, who has a deep-set scowl etched on his features. “They’re always like this.”

He doesn’t answer, choosing to stand and watch them in silence. Your gaze wanders off to the centre of the island, where there is a singular, giant structure just over the tops of the trees. When you squint to get a better look, you swear there’s a building on top of it. 

“Here.”

The sound of Law’s voice brings you back to the scene before you: Sanji, Kin’emon, and Brook on the ground, injured. You don’t doubt it had something to do with Nami. 

Said woman turns when Law approaches her, and you wonder how he left you alone so quietly—you still haven’t put that bell on him. 

“Take this.”

Nami furrows her eyebrows. “Huh? A Vivire Card?”

“Yeah,” He replies. “It’ll take you to that place, Zou, I mentioned at breakfast. My crew’s there.”

Nami nods, inspecting the piece of paper in her palm. “Uh, okay?”

The breeze is light as you walk to them, and the rest of the crew is crowding around, too. 

“If anything happens to us on Dressrosa, go straight there.” 

Nami goes to ask a question when Law turns and crouches down. You take that as your cue to hand him the map. His fingers brush yours, and you can’t help the heat rising to your cheeks at the mere contact—it’s different when people are around. 

He unfurls Bepo’s map on the ground, pointing to a place at the bottom of the main blob. 

“Kinda sloppy,” Nami mumbles and you purse your lips; you can’t but agree, the familiar paw mark on the bottom right of the paper making you smile. Law ignores her. 

“This is where we are,” Law says, moving his index finger to the middle of the island. “This is where Doflamingo’s palace is.” 

You peer up at the tall mountain in the distance. There. 

“The SMILE factory could be anywhere. So just search for info and don’t raise suspicion.” 

You side-eye Luffy, who gives you a cheesy grin. 

“My team is responsible for handing over Caesar on Green Bit up here,” Law moves his finger upwards to the green blob in the top left. He's talking to you, Usopp, Robin, and Caesar; all of who nod except for Caesar, who winces. 

It isn’t ideal, you being within Doflamingo’s vicinity, but Law knows better than to argue with you about your own safety. So he was at a loss when you insisted you accompany them to Green Bit.

“I think I’ve come down with ‘Can’t Step Foot On Dressrosa’ Disease. It’s terminal.” 

You slap your hand and grip tight on Usopp’s shoulder. He pales, a forced grin pulling at the corners of his lips. “You’ll stick with me, right?”

Beaming, you nod. “Of course. I think I’ve got a similar disease.”

Usopp’s wide eyes close as he cries out. “We’re fucked!”

“As for the Sunny Security Team, be wary of enemy attacks,” Law cuts him off. “You may have to be our decoy.” 

Nami gasps. “No! That’s a thing?”

“That’s okay! We’ve got Sanji to protect us,” Chopper giggles, nudging Brook. You roll your lips inward when the cook is nowhere to be seen. Surprising. 

Chopper screams in fear. “No! You can’t leave us here without protection!” 

“Luffy’s gone, and so are Zoro, Franky, and Kin’emon.” 

Law grunts, tilting his head toward the sky. “Those idiots. This plan is riding on them.”

“Get used to it,” You sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Not helping.” 

“You’re not seriously leaving us here on our own,” Nami quips. “How are we going to protect ourselves?”

“Not my problem.”

—

After an argument or two, you, Law, Robin, Usopp, and Caesar leave the Sunny Security Team alone on the Sunny, promising not to take too long. It’s a pain, but it’s the best plan you could devise, considering Doflamingo’s presence on Green Bit. 

You start your journey, first going into the town to purchase disguises, which seems stupid now that you look at Law. 

“Cute,” You comment, mischief swimming in your eye. “Is that because you can’t grow a real one?” 

Law dodges your hand aiming to flick the end of the fake moustache attached to his upper lip. “Quit.” 

Robin comes back with sunglasses and a hat for you; the two pieces are cute at first glance. The sun is bright on Dressrosa, and the summer weather is in full effect, so donning the accessories won’t make you look out of place. 

“How’s this?” Law asks when Robin turns away to pay for your items. You open your mouth to respond, a quip on your tongue before you notice what he’s done.

With raised eyebrows, Law stands there, arms outstretched, his Corazon jacket unzipped, and his abs and tattoos on full display. You roll your lips inwards, suppressing a cheeky smile. 

“Hm?” 

You bob your head, no words forming. The apples of Law’s cheeks redden, and he goes to zip it back up. Robin leaves the vendor, joining back up with Usopp and Caesar, who already have their disguises on. Her sly laughter brings you out of your daze.

“No!” You squeal, lunging to halt his hands. “Well, yes, you’re incredibly sexy like this, but no, don’t cover up. Leave it.” 

Law gives you an unimpressed look, his nose scrunched slightly. “So, good disguise?”

Sighing, you run your hand along his chest, the sparse hairs tickling your fingertips. “Great disguise.”

Law’s eyes flicker down to your mouth, and your chest is tight with anticipation. But then there’s a horn, a high-pitched one and laughter. You jump, glancing over Law’s shoulder to see a clown standing there. 

“Come on, guys!” Usopp yells, waving at you. But you’re focused on the clown. It’s eerily similar to a toy you had as a child, unlike the humans dressed up in costumes on your island. The clown blinks, one eye closing after the other mechanically, and you yelp. 

Law’s hands enclose over your upper arms. “What’s wrong?”

You don’t say anything but blink, hoping your eyes are playing tricks on you. He pulls the sunglasses off his face and mumbles your name. 

You shake your head, and a slight uptilt of your lips have you laughing in disbelief. “I thought that was a toy.” 

Law looks to where you do. “You’re right. Weird.”

“Guys!”

You turn, your gaze on the ground, as you follow the rest of the team to the northeastern side of Dressrosa. 

— Scene 11 —

The bridge is eerily still when you stand at the entrance. There’s signage everywhere, many red with STOP and KEEP OUT printed on them, but the warnings do nothing to quash the interest you have in journeying across. 

Usopp trembles beside you, sweat dripping from his jaw. “Are you sure we need to go across this? Like there’s no other way?”

“Nope.”

He whines, covering his face with his hands. “Why am I on this team?” 

Robin fills the gap between you and Usopp. “I’m excited. The only thing to worry about is the monstrous flesh-eating fish. Think about how big they are; the bridge needs a cage to protect whoever’s on it.”

“Are you kidding me?” Usopp snaps. “I don’t need your morbidity right now.”

Robin shrugs and steps forward, her foot on the first panel of the bridge. “We better hurry, time’s ticking.”

“She’s right,” Law says, ignoring Usopp’s visible breakdown. “Let’s go.”

A hand latches onto your wrist, and you laugh, pulling your friend closer. “Together. Come on.” 

“Your disease seems to be improving,” He mumbles bitterly. Usopp takes a shaky step, the iron creaking under his weight. 

You follow suit, and then everybody is on the unsteady structure. There’s no movement in the surrounding water, and the group silently walks. The overwhelming stink of seaweed and rot is the only thing that abuses your senses. You scrunch your nose and try to focus on quelling the anxiety blooming in your chest. You’ve been walking for a few minutes, the wind howling through the iron bars.

You feel the urge to laugh bubbling in your throat, something to express the utter ridiculousness of walking on an iron bridge and being terrified of fish coming to attack you. The corners of your lips upturn as the laugh starts to escape when Law stops. 

“One’s approaching.”

You spin, the laugh dying on your tongue. “What?”

“Who?” Usopp squeaks, and his grip on your wrist tightens. You pay no mind to the pressure; it keeps your mind from thinking this is fake. 

If Law can detect the fish with his haki, then it’s a lot bigger than you thought. 

“That direction,” Law points to the left, a splash accentuating his statement. 

“There!” Caesar exclaims with his hands pressed to his chest. Your eyes dart to where he’s looking, and low and behold, there’s a giant fin skimming the water. 

The fish disappears under the bridge, and your hands move to squeeze Usopp’s arm.

Something is emerging from the water before you can say ‘go’... It’s unlike anything you imagined: thick, scarred, navy skin, mammoth, twisty horns, and rows of razor-sharp teeth widen before you. You watch as the fish flies above and over the bridge, the underside of its body just metres from your head. 

It continues its path overhead and lands with a splash on the other side of the bridge. 

Usopp is speechless beside you, his jaw slack and eyes bulging from his head. You look around at the group, everyone standing there watching the bubbles surface. 

“We should move,” You whisper, scared that if you speak any louder, the fish may hear you. It isn’t until the fin appears again, and then another, and another, and Law nods. 

“Move! Go!”

Your legs burn like they haven’t in a while, the collective footfalls of the group making the iron panels scrape against one another. 

“Watch out!” 

You veer to the right, a fish ramming its head directly into the iron bars where you just stood. Screaming with surprise and fear, you continue, Usopp a little bit ahead of you. 

The fish’s red eyes follow you, its jaw gnawing on the cage before it slinks back into the water. 

“Special Attack! Exploding Star!” 

Above you, Usopp’s bullets make contact with something, but you don’t dare look up. Sweat runs down the side of your face, and you feel useless. Seam does nothing against beasts like this. 

“Mil Fleurs.” 

You glance back to see Robin’s giant hand punch one of the fish’s heads, and Usopp load another bullet into his slingshot. 

“Skull Bombgrass!”

Law falls into step next to you as an explosion sounds above. The end of the bridge is nowhere in sight, and you feel your heart drop. 

“Are we even gonna make it to Green Bit?” You pant. 

“Usopp should be able to handle it.”

Your friend whips around at his name. “You’re kidding! You’re the Warlord! You do something!” 

Law peers back at the damage already caused and scoffs. “I can’t fight right now.”

“It’s a pack, we can’t fight them!” Robin yells. 

Law swears under his breath and surges forward. Usopp keeps up his attacks, sending bullets of various abilities at the fish. 

“Nose!” Law yells. “Unlock Caesar’s cuffs.” 

“What did you call me?” Usopp growls. “And why would I do that?” 

You answer before Law has the chance. “So he can fly us across the bridge.”

Caesar gasps behind you. “Like hell—”

“I’d reconsider.” You don’t see what Law holds up, but by Caesar’s reaction, you know it’s his heart. 

“You bastard! How’d you get your hands on that?”

Usopp unlocks the restraints, slipping the key back into his pocket. “Hurry up!” 

“You’re all going to die miserable deaths,” Caesar snaps as he turns around. A blue hue covers the bridge in front of you, and you glance back. 

“Law, if you could use that power of yours right now, that’d be great!” Usopp yells, transfixed by Caesar’s power, too. The blue beam coming from him is so large it swallows up four fish at once. 

“I can’t!”

“Well, fuck you then!” 

Law comes to a screeching halt, and you almost run into his back. The memory isn’t lost on you,  but you throw it away when you realise why he stopped. 

“Oh, perfect!” Usopp cries. The bridge drops off into the water, the other side of the iron structure metres from where you stand. There’s no way you could jump across there unless Law uses Shambles, which he won’t. 

“Caesar!” You scream, voice shrill to hurry him up. “Get over here!”

The scientist glares as he flies toward you. “Don’t you start ordering me around!”

You’re scooped up into Caesar’s arms, the wind slapping your skin as he speeds through the iron cage and to the end of the bridge. The wind carries away Usopp’s screams, and Law and Robin remain their usual composed selves. 

“Why didn’t we do this from the start?” Usopp exclaims, his hands grappling for purchase on the allusive gas. 

“Because I’m a hostage, and hostages are meant to be treated humanely!”

—

Green Bit is exactly as you expected: green. Giant flowers, fruits, vines, and mushrooms separate the foliage from the beach, the spectacles enough to stun you into silence. As you take in the sights before you, Robin and Law discuss the abandoned Navy ship to your left, but you don’t look. The flora is magnificent, with mushrooms in colours you’ve never thought possible and vines thicker than the Mangroves on Sabaody; you’re in awe. 

Nobody notices you walking toward the foreign plants, all too absorbed with the ship. Down the beach, there’s a rose, but one that could swallow the Sunny if it wanted to. It draws you to it, and you gladly obey its song, the red of the petals so deep it parallels the deepest blood. 

Sand puffs up behind you as you walk, the boots on your feet long discarded. You haven’t felt your toes in the sand for years; the right occasion never arose for such a thing. The grains burn the soles of your feet, but you take it in your stride. 

A rhino beetle scuttles along the forest's edge, its size much larger than you’ve seen. The sight of it should scare you, but all you can think of is how much Luffy would love it. 

You shed your disguise, the hat and sunglasses dropping to the ground when you reach the stem of the rose. Looking up, it’s taller than the highest building you’ve seen, and the thorns dotting the stem mimic steps that you could easily use. You got to grip onto the slick plant tissue, its fuzzy exterior tickling your palm. 

You hear your name from down the beach, urgency lacing their tone. Tugging your eyebrows together, you look down the coast, a group of people running after you. Fear pricks your skin, and you begin to climb, panic in your veins. 

Quickly, a voice whispers, he’s coming. 

You feel your foot slip as you frantically reach out for another thorn, your body falling backwards. No noise leaves your lips as you free-fall to the sand below. 

“Room.”

And then your feet are back on the sand, the grains uncomfortable. Blinking, you look around. “Law?” 

“What the hell were you doing?” 

You peer over at Robin and Usopp, shock evident on their faces. 

“What happened?” You ask, breathing heavily. 

“You were climbing that tree.”

You glance behind you, the rose still standing tall in the sunlight. “Rose.” 

“Whatever,” Law spits. “Are you okay?”

Still looking at the rose, you sigh. “I heard voices.” 

Usopp laughs nervously, turning around to head back to the bridge. “Okay, that’s my cue to leave.” 

“What were they saying?” Robin asks curiously. 

“He’s coming’.”

Law curses. “Doflamingo is on his way.”

“How’d you get that from that?” Usopp exclaims, eyes moving to the forest warily. “Does the forest speak?”

“Not quite,” Law studies you, and you wait to ask what he’s thinking. “Anyway, we’re dropping Caesar right there in ten minutes.” 

“So that’s it? She wanders off and nearly falls to her death from a giant rose, and we’re meant to act like everything’s fine?” 

“Yep.”

“I’m okay, Usopp. Truly.” Your friend sways on his feet, the lightheadedness of panic and disbelief catching up with him. 

“You two go hide somewhere,” Law regards Usopp and Robin. “Be ready to snipe if the situation calls for it.”

Robin takes off alone, leaving Usopp to complain as he follows. 

Law says your name. “Hide in the tree line. If he attacks, it’s you and me.”

You open your mouth, but the familiar ringing of Transponder Snail pins you in place. Who could possibly be calling at a time like this?

“Take my handcuffs off.” You forgot Caesar was here. The scientist has his head on a swivel, looking unsettled. 

“Shut up,” Law murmurs, fishing a baby Transponder Snail from his jacket. You swallow thickly before raising your eyes to the head of the rose again. 

Who was speaking to you before? How did they know Doflamingo was coming?

“Law! It’s Sanji.”

“Where’d you go? Please tell me you found the factory.” 

“It’s a trap! You gotta go right now!”

Your breath gets lodged in your throat, and your eyes widen. Looking out to the ocean, Dressrosa is in the distance, and you try to understand how this happened. 

“He’s still a Warlord! Right now, you’re handing over Caesar for nothing!” 

Law stills, his body tensing as he follows your line of vision. He eyes a speck flying through the sky, and he squints to decipher what it could be. 

You whimper, your body tingling with panic. “We need to leave. Right now.” 

Caesar breaks into a fit of giggles, and you feel your eye twitch. Expletives fall from Law’s lips before he tells you to run, recognising the pink coat of the man flying toward you. “Go, now!”

The flying figure approaches at an alarming rate, and you race for the trees, only to be pulled backward, your arms thrown behind you. 

There’s a rustling in the trees, but you ignore it, focusing on the tightening of the strings around your wrists. 

“Dreamweaver!” A voice announces. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

You struggle to look at what is restraining you, but from the sharp, cocky voice that echoes down the beach, you already know. Doflamingo hangs in the air; his arms outstretched with a Cheshire grin. 

“Joker!” Caesar yells with excitement. 

“Let go of her,” Law says, his gaze darkening when it lands on Doflamingo. “Now.” 

“And you got a Navy Admiral to show up? I’m impressed,” Doflamingo chuckles. You turn your head at an awkward angle to get a glimpse of the surprise arrival of the Marines, and you can tell Law is seething. “And since I’m no longer a Warlord, I’m shaking in my boots. I’m terrified!” 

“Fuck you,” Law bares his teeth. “You’re a damn liar.” 

You wriggle around on the sand, summoning Needles in an attempt to cut the strings. Tiny prickles cover your hands and forearms in rapid succession, and when Doflamingo opens his mouth to taunt Law again, you free yourself. 

Some Marines to your left are startled at your sudden movement, shocked to be in the presence of two Warlords and a pirate with a 650 million berry bounty. They quickly compose themselves, but the grips on their weapons are tighter than before. 

“Don’t touch me again,” You shout, hands positioned to summon your power if necessary. 

Doflamingo’s stare pins you in your place, and though you can’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses, you know he sports a wild gleam. 

“I’m having some trouble unravelling this situation,” A deep voice says. “I don’t have much experience as a Marine, so I don’t want to make any baseless accusations.” 

You falter, blinking in confusion. The Marines chatter amongst themselves as the Admiral at the head of the bunch finishes speaking. 

“Fujitora!” Doflamingo interjects. “You’re the famous Admiral who got recruited in the World Military Draft, weren’t you? I’ve heard you’re a force to be reckoned with.”

Fujitora brushes him off. “It seems to me, as Warlords, you’re both doing something that steps outside your boundaries. The fellow there referred to you as ‘Joker’... a troubling implication.”

Your steps are silent as you hurry through the sand, nobody paying much attention to you as Domflamingo’s grin turns dangerous. 

“I don’t care what you think about me. As for Law, other here, what will you do about him?”

Law’s eye catches you as you skirt around the back of the Marines’ group, darting his eyes back to Doflamingo so as not to raise suspicion. 

“If you’re referring to his alliance with the pirate Straw Hat, should he confirm this, he’s guilty. But what comes after that depends on his answer… betrayal of the World Government is a serious crime.” 

Caesar makes a strangled noise. “And what of her?” 

Fujitora raises an eyebrow. “I’m unsure I know who you’re referring to.” 

“That girl, the one with the Sew-Sew Fruit.” 

The Navy Admiral mutters your name. “I see. She’s a pirate, too, and with her strong ties to Straw Hat and Trafalgar Law, I see it fit that she should be arrested as well.” 

“That won’t do,” Doflamingo snaps. “She’s coming with me.” 

“Like hell!” Law yells as his calculated facade cracks. “She’s my subordinate.”

“So what will it be, Law?” Fujitora urges, drawing his sword. 

“It’s true! The Straw Hats and I are equal in this alliance!” 

You appear beside Law, the Marines’ looking back and forth to where you were and where you stand now. Doflamingo’s lip curls as he assesses the situation. 

Fujitora leans over, and a purple halo shoots into the sky without warning. You keep your eye on Doflamingo, not risking him moving any closer to you or Law. Caesar gasps, his face stricken with fear. 

The blue sky darkens to deep indigo like the sun has disappeared and night has fallen upon the world early. The tide recedes, and you spare a glance at the water. How odd. 

You ready yourself, feet shifting into a fighting stance and hands poised before you. 

“What is that?” 

Law’s shocked whisper pulls you from your concentration, and you look up. 

“Is that a meteor?” Caesar’s neck is craned back, and you nod. 

“What the—”

Frantic chatter and gasps sound from your left, and the Marines sprint for the tree line. 

“Your title has been revoked, Trafalgar Law.” 

A red hue covers the beach, and Law shoves your shoulder. “Go!”

The blazing rock inches closer, its speed never slowing. You don’t want to follow his demand, ever the stubborn mindset, but the pure fear on Law’s face forces you. 

“Room!” 

It’s quick, and you’re almost into the forest when Law slashes his katana, the monstrous rock splitting in half. One side heads directly for Domflamingo, who swipes his hand. You watch in horror as the rock splits again, this time into ten slices and then twenty. The segments crash into the sand, throwing him off his feet. 

You don’t see where the second half goes, but you guess toward Fujitora by the way the leaves surrounding you go purple. With your gaze on Law, you shout after him, but your voice is lost in the destruction. The aftermath of the impact sends you flying backward, Caesar and the Marines following. You throw your hands out, Sew multiplying at an alarming rate to form a net that catches everyone. 

Coughing through the dust, you emerge from the trees, only to be pulled back by a Marine. Before you is a giant pit that descends into the depths of the earth. It’s an unusual sight, but your heart rate increases exponentially when you think about Law’s whereabouts. 

“Where—”

“Look!”

So you do, and when the smoke clears, you feel your shoulders relax, but only slightly. Law, Doflamingo, and Fujitora stand on their own pillars of rock; the drop below them is endless. 

The men speak amongst themselves on the pillars, and you can’t make out what they’re saying. But, without warning, they all attack at once. Your mouth is dry with fear and apprehension, and you absentmindedly move your tongue to generate saliva. Though, it’s difficult with the dust and sand coating your throat. 

“He’s mine to kill!” Doflamingo cackles, pointing his finger at Law. You scowl and leap from the bushes, your feet sinking into the sand with every step. Law dodges at the last second, and whatever Doflamingo sends his way slices his cheek. Fujitora stands there unmoving, letting them fight.

Law sees your figure running from the trees and escapes from the pit, making his way toward you. “Run.”

Doflamingo follows, and you watch in horror as the pink man flies at you. 

“Law,” He sings, his attention snagged by your sudden attack. You fling a needle in his direction, its sharp tip barely missing his face. “Oh! Dreamweaver’s come out to play, too! How exciting.”

You sprint behind Law, weaving through the giant flora of Green Bit. Law tugs your hand, and you go crashing over a vine. Shambles catches you and keeps you on your toes. A quick zip goes past your ear, and you stagger. 

“Bullet strings,” Law explains, dodging said attack. You swallow thickly, the exhaustion eating at your muscles. “They’ll kill you if you’re not careful.” 

His breathing is ragged as he speaks, and you send a needle behind you, the dark chuckle of Doflamingo letting you know you missed—you won’t dare send him to Seam without knowing the full extent of his power; he’d most likely rip you to shreds. 

“I’ve been keeping a close eye on you, Dreamweaver.”

The nickname is still foreign to your ears. You don’t want to know what it means and why it’s the same as legends past. Law snarls at him, grabbing your wrist and transporting you further away. 

“If you join me, I’ll let your little Law go free, unharmed.” 

His voice gets closer every time Law puts more distance between you and Doflamingo. The offer is enticing only because Law’s safety is the only thing on your mind. As if reading your mind, Law tightens his grip on your wrist. 

“Don’t even think about it.”

There’s no time to dwell on the emotions that rise within you when Law flies forward, his body upside down as he slams into a tree. Almost invisible strings lace over his chest, torso, legs, and arms, and you spin around wildly to face the man responsible. 

Doflamingo slows, his shoes hitting the ground as he stalks toward you.

“No!” Law yells, his voice gruff as he fights against the restraints. “Don’t you dare touch her!”

The King of Dressrosa observes you, his head tilting as he scrutinises you. You stand your ground, protecting Law from the man who ruined his life. 

“Gorgeous thing you are, Dreamweaver… tragic that Law’s been keeping you hidden from me.”

You gulp silently but are unwavering. Doflamingo stops in front of you, his two-metre frame towering. You have to tilt your head back to look him directly in the eyes—though his sunglasses make it difficult to see where he’s looking. 

“Did Law ever tell you what you are?” 

“I don’t know!” Law’s voice is strained, the strings strengthening their hold. “I don’t know why everyone thinks I do!”

“Forget Law, you could’ve been a Warlord. And if you were feeling up to the task, maybe an Emperor.”

The titles he’s throwing at you mean nothing. “Leave us alone.” 

“Love has made you weak!” Doflamingo barks a laugh as he takes a step. He circles you, his gaze piercing. “Who knew that the one I sort was so… pathetic.”

“Fuck you,” You growl, watching him over your shoulder. He makes no move for Law but sighs, his pity palpable. 

“You could be a god.”

Your finger flicks and Doflamingo makes a sound of indignation as a needle pierces his side. “Stop saying that.” 

Turning around, you glower. Law’s expression is painted in surprise at how easily you attacked him, the needle deepening with every movement Doflamingo takes. Blood drips from the wound, and Law gasps. 

“Interesting,” Doflamingo regards the protruding needle, running his finger along its shining body. “Just as I expected.” 

Behind him, needles work to free Law, loosening the strings just enough so he can use shambles to transport to you. 

You ignore Doflamingo’s wondrous tone and continue to impale him. He grunts with each needle that sinks into his flesh, but his smile never lets up. 

“Dreamweaver,” He mutters, arms outstretched and Cheshire grin widening. He looks like a pincushion. “You are the only one who can defeat me.” 

Your power halts. Why would he say that when he’s at your mercy? When you could kill him here and now? Unless you can’t.  

You don’t say anything, knowing he’s toying with you. When you glance at the tree, Law’s gone, so you keep Doflamingo’s focus on you. 

“Come with me now,” He mutters, voice brutally low. “Or I’ll slice Law’s head clean off. I know he’s sneaking around here somewhere, and I won’t hesitate.” 

Your blood freezes in your arteries, and your body feels like it's in slow motion—deep in your soul, you know he’s not lying. He killed his own father and brother, and Trafalgar Law is no exception. 

“Fine. But stay away from Law.” 

“You’re aware of our history then? What’d he tell you about that traitor, Corazon?”

Silently, your hands return to your sides. You inhale deeply, calming your nerves. Law won’t forgive you for this, but you’d do anything to keep him safe. With your glare as sharp as a needle, you put your wrists together before you and shake them. “Take me away, then.”

Doflamingo smirks and cackles, the sharp sound echoing through the trees. Law freezes at the noise, knowing it can't mean anything good. With his heart in his throat, he transports himself to your location.

But when he arrives, Doflamingo is gone, and so are you. 

Taglist:

@fandomhoe101 / @valen-yamyam16 / @chibinasuu / @xsuvs / @curiositycoven64 / @chillerkiller / @loserbee14 / @theloserqueen / @meritxellao / @mirtiell / @dreamistsblog / @notbleachtea / @doxxypoxxy / @hellavadog / @disgruntled-tortoiseshell / @anitaanita / @bi-narystars / @milkteeboba / @starlightaurorab / @newdruid / @tumdlrnewb84 / @alicee-carter / @slep-s / @zzzzzoey / @itsmekalou / @lone-ray

i think this is everyone! if i've missed you or you want to be tagged in the final part, please let me know!!

[save-the-villainous-cat]

The villain’s stare bored itself into the hero relentlessly and the hero felt - as so often - the crushing weight growing heavier. If it wasn’t for the villain, they’d be dead.

“I don’t know,” the hero whispered. Their voice was hoarse, completely breaking apart. “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t ask for an apology, I asked for an explanation.” The villain wiped some dust off their clothes and took in a deep breath. Unlike the hero, they were untouched, perfectly healthy. However, also in a scarily bad mood.

Usually, the villain wasn’t as serious as they should have been. So, this was surprising. The villain had never saved the hero.

“I don’t know,” the hero repeated. They put their head in their hands, grabbed the roots of their hair. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know.”

“Think, then.”

The hero looked up.

“I feel like I’m at a point in my life where…where I’m standing still. I can’t go forward. And if I do move, I go backwards and then, I come back to the same point. I…I don’t know what I was thinking, I knew this mission would be dangerous. I didn’t know it would be suicide. I’m, fuck, I’m…I’m stupid.”

The villain’s brows furrowed.

“Alright, enough.” They raised a hand as if to silence the hero. “Your personal problems don’t concern me, but I can’t save you every time you’re in trouble. Ruins my reputation.”

“I’m not asking you to save me.”

“It’s not much of a choice when you look at me like a sad puppy.” The villain sighed and kneeled in front of them. “You dying would kind of ruin my day, so I’m trying to avoid that.”

The hero buried their face in their hands, squeezing their eyes shut until they saw stars. They were aware that something was wrong with them. Admittedly, they didn't know if they had always been broken, or if this had developed during the last months of saving people.

Somewhere within the hero, they knew this part of them, this unlovable part they were so ashamed of, this sick and weak part that made them crumble and decay, destroyed them from the inside out. Often the hero imagined it was a tumor they could cut out of their flesh, they wouldn't even care if they'd hit bone with the blade. But it was etched into their soul and that could barely be fixed.

A sweet relationship that had turned incredibly bitter, a friend dying in front of them, their noble view of the world changing radically - all of it had tainted the hero in a way words could barely describe.

The hero didn't feel like they could see colors anymore, their taste was dull, they had become lazy. And in their mind, they were the most undesirable, most pathetic, most detestable person in the entire world.

They felt the tears, the usual stinging in their nose and eyes.

"You do know that I don't have to save you, right?" the villain asked.

"Yeah," the hero said, wiping tears away. "I get it. I'm grateful for your kindness. I'll repay you somehow."

"That's not exactly what I meant," the villain said. "I meant that you're perfectly capable of saving yourself."

They bit their bottom lip.

"I get it, some days suck. Some weeks suck. Some months suck. But someone as competent as you cannot be this reckless. Do you think you're unable to overcome what you're dealing with? You out of all people?" The villain tilted their head and let out a long sigh. "If I was cruel, I'd tell you to join me because I can make your life better. But sadly, I don't have all the answers either. And I want you to truly believe in my goals and understand me as a person."

Their eyes fixed on the hero's lips but they looked away quickly.

"Just do me a favor and don't get killed," they said. The hero closed their eyes and took in a deep and shaky breath.

"I will try."

"Good." They felt the villain's fingertips brush their arm, but when they opened their eyes, they were alone.

[critterbitter]

I'm wheezing over Ingo and Litwick's dynamic jgjbjjxjsjwkfiisiq and TYNAMO FITTING INTO EMMET'S SCARF IS SOOO CUTE!! Love how you draw the little sbubby bois, their conductor themed outfits are soo freaking cute!!!

I have so many thoughts when it comes to them it’s insane. Glad you like the characterizations!

Here’s a quick one shot under the cut, as a treat for making it this far.

Emmet finds Tynamo three months before Ingo meets Litwick. Ingo has some thoughts.

Ingo and Emmet are part of a pair.

If Emmet is the fuck around and find out, then Ingo’s been relegated amused damage control. This has always been the case, right up until Emmet found tynamo. Then suddenly, it’s “wow emmet, you’re so responsible!” “Golly gee Emmet, what do you mean you don’t want to go exploring the cave systems after dark?” “Gee whizz, what do you mean curfew for your eel puppy?” “Why in Reshiram do you get to have a whole pokemon three months before we agreed to get starters, and i don’t?”

Ingo doesn’t say the last part. He’s a bitter world-weary twelve year old languishing about the unfairness of the pokestray distribution system, but he also loves his brother. Emmet found an injured tynamo in chargestone cave and decided to help— tynamo decided to stay. It’s every child’s film plot. Ingo being a grouchy gengar makes him objectively a terrible friend.

Oh dragons, is Ingo a bad brother?

“Ingo!”

Speak of the cold, and he shall enter. Ingo swings his whole body around to better brace for the flying tackle.

“Emmet!”

“I am emmet! You are sulking.”

Ingo clicks his mouth closed and tries not to sulk harder. He fails.

“You are not being verrrry convincing, brother dearest.”

“I do not have any idea what you are going on about,” Ingo’s traitorous mouth blurts. “Be convinced I love you and am not planning dastardly plots.”

Do not think about getting a ground typed starter. Do not think about getting a ground typed starter.

Emmet shoots him a judgemental look from under the brim of his hat. Ingo glowers back, and slowly starts leaning forward, smooshing Emmet under his weight.

“Ttttell me why you look like a crushed joltik.”

“Keep this up and you are going to be the crushed joltik.”

Anyways, Emmet is becoming more bold by the day and even actively discussing electric types with the new girl in elementary prep, Elesa. Ingo thinks she’s cool, but she flinched when he blurted a once again too loud greeting so he’s… letting that cool off. They definitely don’t have anything to talk about beyond pokemon, and Emmet and her already have pokemon. Ingo feels a bit left out.

Caught in the ennui of not having a blitzle or tynamo, Ingo slips as Emmet rolls out from under him. The two go down in an ungraceful tangle of limbs.

“Tell. Me. What’s. Wrong.” Emmet gently slaps Ingo’s face like a ripe oran berry. “You want to tell me sooo badly. Ooh.”

“Emmet- aurgh. Gerroff’”

“I don’t speak denial.”

Ingo gives up. His entire body deflates. Emmet, not expecting the sudden loss of spinal infrastructure, slides sideways and knees Ingo’s lungs.

Ingo wheezes. “I’m sulking because you were crushing my spine.”

“Tell me the truth.”

Uh oh. Ingo studies Emmet’s face. It’s the same one he looks into the mirror with, but marred with concern and self consciousness. Ingo made Emmet worry. He’s not just a bad twin. He’s the worst.

“You are Emmet.”

“I am Emmet.”

“You have Tynamo.”

“Tynamo’s charging at home.”

Smart ass! Emmet knows what Ingo means. And by Emmet’s smug grin, Emmet knows too.

Ingo struggles to explain that Emmet has Tynamo, and Elesa, and… that’s only two other individuals. He is truly the worst twin in all the land. Emmet gets two new friends and Ingo’s being an infant about it.

One day, Ingo will have his own pokemon partner and team— but right now, Ingo only gets to have Emmet.

Ingo feels this is an unfair trade equivalent, but he does not want to say it in a way that sounds rude, so he stalls.

Emmet has no such prefunctures. He squints at Ingo, who avoids eye contact and squirms. “You are… jealous?” He tilts his head in visible confusion. “What?”

Ingo covers his face with his hands, defeated.

“You arrrre jealous!” Emmet cries, bewildered. “Why??”

Ingo lets out an unintelligible wheeze. Emmet remembers he still has a knee on Ingo’s chest, and hastily sits back.

“I don’t want to be jealous,” Ingo finally bursts. “I am very happy for you Emmet! You and Tynamo are a winning combination!” His voice cracks embarrassingly. Emmet doesn’t flinch at the volume, even muffled under Ingo’s palms. “I don’t want to be a bad brother being jealous.”

“You aren’t a bad brother, Ingo.”

“I am. I am angry that you found your starter and I haven’t. I’m sad I interrupted your schedule with my inane demands. I have made you feel like you did something wrong. I apologize.”

Peeking between Ingo’s fingers, Emmet’s face falls. Ingo wants to be struck by a giga impact rather than face this. He would rather be a dusty imprint. Where is Uncle Drayden’s Haxorous when you need her?

“Ingo, Ingo listen to me.” Emmet’s hands dart forward to settle Ingo’s shoulders. The pressure is grounding. Real. This is where Emmet tells Ingo he’s being stupid.

He hears Emmet exhale.

“I’m sorry.”

Wait, that doesn’t sound right. “Pardon?”

“I wanted to train Tynamo as my conductor, and I left our two-car train unmaintained.”

“Pardon??”

Emmet looks uncomfortable and sad. It makes Ingo uncomfortable and sad. “Yesterday night. When you wanted to go to the caves. For our weekly charting. I said I’d rather help Tynamo.”

Oh. Yeah, Ingo remembers that. It had stung. “You are not obligated to say yes,” he protests. “In fact, you should say no more. You always say yes.”

“Yes.”

“What did I just say.”

“No. You’re my brother. I left you out.”

Ingo slowly puts down his hands. His face still feels warm, but he feels less scared. Now he just feels embarrassed. He can’t help but let out a meek plea slip. “Don’t go where I can’t follow, Emmet. Please.”

“I would never! We are going on our pokemon journey together, yep yep. You, me, tynamo, and whoever your starter will be!”

The two sit there on the side of the dirt road. Emmet’s declaration sounds like a dangerous promise. Ingo realizes at that moment he would do anything for his brother, who’s his best friend and confidant and world, starter or no starter. He opens his mouth to tell Emmet that.

“Wwwwwait. You are trying to go back to the caves. Ingo! Are you trying to find a starter by yourself!?”

Never mind. Emmet’s gone for his soft underbelly, and Ingo’s in pain. “Emphasis on trying,” he mutters instead. The joltik are not interested in him. The local tynamo swarm fled. A curious drilbur had sniffed him once, turned up its nose, and then trundled into the wall.

“…ah.”

Nothing had felt right for Ingo— too scared, too judgemental, or too uninterested. He’s starting to accept that maybe none of the pokemon in this town area match his truth or ideals.

Emmet was quiet for a long time. He had his thinking face on, so Ingo did not interrupt. He took the time instead to look up at the sky, watching the giant puff of clouds drift by. A plume of swabloo lazily inches their way across the horizon.

A shadow falls over Ingo. Emmet dusts himself off, and helps drag his twin to his feet. The two sway, clasping hands.

“We’ll ask Uncle Drayden,” Emmet decides, and Ingo is enthralled by the sheer truth of that statement. “He’ll let us use the subway! And you can look elsewhere, for a starter who is ideal for you. Wwwwith me and Tynamo, instead of by yourself.”

“Truly?” Uncle Drayden is a scary man.

Emmet nods. It’s easy to talk to Emmet— he just says words that Ingo would spend hours ruminating on. “I am verrrry persuasive.”

“You mean staring at him from the corner until he cracks?”

“Brother, you know me so well!”

Ingo cant help but laugh. He still feels guilty and bad for feeling envious, but a world with emmet by his side is significantly less hostile. Emmet’s hand is warm in his.“Thank you!” He cheers, startling himself with his volume. “Bravo,” he tried in a quieter tone.

“Bravo!!” Emmet replies, pointedly louder. Ingo squawks as Emmet pulls him off balance. “You are my brother! We’re going to find you a starter!”

Ingo tugs back just as fiercely. “Bravo!! We are going to harass Uncle Drayden into letting us board the train!”

Emmet leans with his whole body, dragging Ingo into the fulcrum of his centrifuge. “BRAVO! YOU ARE GOING TO HELP ME WITH TYNAMO’S TRAINING!”

Ingo digs his heels in, and then stumbles. “BRAVO, I, what?”

Emmet looked distinctly patrat-esque. “We’re in this together, Ingo. No backing out now.”

Ingo thought about it long and hard. He gets to see his brother get electrocuted. But he will, also, most likely, get electrocuted.

(Tynamo is Emmet’s starter. But maybe, it can also be Ingo’s friend.)

But brother say brother do, and Ingo’s probably obligated to run damage control if Emmet decides to, say, shove a fork into an outlet for Tynamo to snack on.

(Emmet fucks around. Ingo finds out. Even two steps apart with new people between, this is the way of their world.)

“Alright,” he crumbles. When they step this time, they step in sync. “We do this. Together.” (Enjoy this? Here's the link to the rest of my rat crimes.)

[fadedin2u]

big flirt!

MDNI 18+

summary: your friends force you to go out to a gay bar with them, and ellie buys you a drink.

content/tw: alcohol mention, subtop!ellie, slightly dom/switch!reader, reader and ellie are both drunk, face sitting(r!receiving), tribbing, strap-on(r!recieving), reader is called “girl” once or twice, afab!reader, reader is neither masc nor fem, college!ellie and reader, astrophysics major!ellie

notes: i left the ending written in away that i might add another part to this fic! lmk if u want that lol

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °

“hey, 6 o’clock, there’s a certified hottie staring at you-“ one of your well-meaning friends tells you, motioning (not very) discreetly behind you.

you turn around and your jaw nearly drops. the girl staring at you is stunning, with her dark auburn hair and flannel worn over a wife-beater, sitting at the bar and sipping her drink. you make eye contact with her momentarily, and turn back to your friend, mary, with wide eyes.

mary laughs, “are you gonna go for it?”

your friends had forced you to go out to this gay bar with the intention of meeting new people after a break up that left you a complete wreck. it’d been about 3 months since your ex broke the news that they weren’t in love with you anymore, and it made any kind of romantic prospects leave a bitter taste in your mouth till this day. not to mention, you’re wayyy too drunk at this point to be on your A-game with flirting. you make a face and mary groans.

“come on, dude! she’s gorgeous, clearly interested, what else could you ask for?”

you make another face, “just because she’s staring doesn’t mean that she’s necessarily interested-“

“how about if she’s walking over to you right now? does that make her interested?”

you hear someone clear their throat behind you, and you give mary a murderous look before turning to the stranger with a smile.

she gives you a slightly awkward smile in return, “hey. i, um, i’m sorry if this is forward, but could i buy you a drink?”

your stomach is absolutely in knots, but you nod. “yeah, i’d love that.”

the stranger gives you a relieved smile in return, extending her hand to you, “i’m ellie. what’s your drink?”

you give her your name, “-and just a rum and coke, thank you so much.”

ellie’s clearly pretty drunk as well, which makes you feel a little better. she leads you back over to the spot at the bar she was sitting at, giving you her hand to help as you hop onto the excessively tall bar seats. she gives the bar tender your drink order and orders another whiskey on the rocks for herself.

“so, do you come to this bar a lot?” you ask, and inwardly cringe at yourself. ‘i basically just asked “so, you come here often?” great.’

ellie makes a so-so motion with her hand, “sometimes, not very often though. i study astrophysics so i don’t usually have the free time to deal with a hangover.”

your eyebrows raise and your drunk brain speaks before you think, “wow, smart girl.”

ellie’s cheeks flush a little, and she looks down, “i don’t know about that, but i’m really passionate about it, which is more than half the battle, i think.”

you scoff, “please, you’re literally studying rocket science. you can’t convince me that you’re not smart now.”

ellie laughs a little, “okay, then i’ll just shut up and take the compliment. thank you.”

the bar tender gives you two your drinks and ellie takes a sip of her own, “so, what do you do?”

you take a sip of your own drink, “i’m a student right now too, i’m actually studying-“

suddenly, you hear a familiar beat in the background, and you stop talking, a (likely goofy) smile growing on your face, “oh my god, i fucking love this song. nicki minaj literally cannot miss.”

ellie laughs brightly at that, raising an eyebrow, “i absolutely fucking agree. do you wanna dance?”

“really?”

ellie nods, taking a large gulp of her whiskey, “for sure. i couldn’t live with myself knowing i cheated a pretty girl like you out of a dance break.”

you giggle and nod, chugging the rest of your drink faster than you probably should. ellie takes your hand and leads you out the the dance floor where there’s a large crowd of people dancing together. you pull ellie against you, your actions emboldened by the alcohol in your system. ellie immediately goes to hold on your hips, your bodies moving against each other.

you don’t really think to much about how you’re dancing, just letting your body move how it wants to. before you even realize what you’re doing, you’ve turned around in ellie’s hold, grinding your ass back against her hips. when you realize what’s happening, you nearly stop, but when you feel the tight grip of ellie’s hands on your hips and the way she’s grinding back into you, you relax. you stand back up straight, and wrap your arm up and behind you, holding onto the back of ellie’s head, which is now tucked against your neck. when you feel her lips against your jugular, you inhale sharply, pressing more into her.

you feel her kisses trail down to your shoulder, and you thank your good luck for deciding to wear a tank top. you feel her pelvis digging into your ass, and you can’t be sure because the music is so loud, but you swear you hear her moan.

you turn back around in her arms, and before either of you realize what’s happening, you’re locked into a heated kiss. your arms wrap around her neck, and one of her hands sneaks down from your hips to squeeze your ass. you moan into her mouth, and she takes the opportunity for her tongue to explore your mouth. when you separate, you’re both panting.

“wanna get an uber back to mine?” she asks loudly over the blasting music, and you nod right away.

——

the uber driver for the ride back will likely leave ellie with a low rating, thanks to the two of you not being able to detach your mouths from each other for longer than 5 seconds, but you two eventually make it back to ellie’s apartment.

once you’re in her bathroom, you push her back onto her bed between kisses and straddle her. she kisses your neck and chest, pushing your tank top up. you take it off for her and you’re left in your bra. ellie grins and starts kissing the exposed parts of your breasts.

“god, you’re so fucking pretty-“ ellie says as she takes off your bra, immediately latching onto one of your nipples. you moan softly and hold onto her head, your fingers threading through her hair.

you feel her warm tongue smooth over the hardened bud before switching to the other to give it the same attention. as she does, her hands come up to squeeze your tits. she’s still sucking and nipping gently as she looks up at you, her doe eyes stirring the heat in your belly. when she unlatches; her lips are a little swollen and wet with saliva.

“what am i allowed to do? what do you need?” ellie asks, smoothing her hands down your waist and hips.

you shiver slightly, “anything.”

ellie starts kissing your neck again, sucking a hickey into the crook of your neck, “you’re gonna need to be more detailed then that, doll.”

you bite your lip, your tipsy brain racing, “i need you to fuck me.”

ellie pulls back, a wide grin growing on her face, and she kisses your collarbone. “jesus christ, i’d fucking love too… can you sit on my face first?”

your exhale sharply and nod. ellie lies back on the bed and you slide off ellie, kicking off your jeans, leaving your underwear on, before crawling back up ellie’s body.

ellie grips your thighs as you position yourself over her face. “fuck, you smell good… you this wet for me, babe?”

you nod again, your cheeks hot.

her smile is a little cocky as she looks up at your face, and licks over the wet fabric of your underwear. your legs jolt a little and you let out a shaky breath.

ellie shoves her face further between your legs, and you swear you hear her whimper. she pulls your underwear to the side, and licks a broad stripe up your cunt.

you moan, your eyes falling shut as you hold onto her headboard.

she pulls back, “i said sit on my face, babe, not hover-“

ellie’s hands pull on your thighs so you rest your weight on her face fully. ellie becomes borderline ravenous, her tongue lapping at your pussy, slurping you up as her fingers dig into the fat of your ass and thighs.

you bite on your fist to muffle your loud moans, but ellie will have none of that, her arm reaching up to pull yours away from your face.

after a moment, ellie sticks her tongue fully out, letting you rub your clit against it as you please. your breaths become more and more unsteady.

ellie’s hands on your ass help guide your hips, and when she moves to suck on your clit, the suction makes your orgasm hit you like a freight train, bucking your hips against ellie’s face.

when you’ve come down, ellie helps you off of your face, and rummages through her drawer to grab her strap.

you stop her, your hand against her chest, “i wanna feel you against me first.”

ellie doesn’t need to hear anymore, and quickly starts taking off her clothes as you take off your underwear. she moves so she’s on top of you, hiking one of your legs over her shoulder. the moment her wet cunt grinds into yours, you both moan, your eyes rolling back into your head.

��you feel so fucking perfect, so fuckin good for me-“ she rambles

ellie starts thrusting her hips against yours, and you watch her small, perky tits bounce with each movement. your hand trails up to squeeze one of them and she whimpers softly. when you pinch her nipple between your fingers, she moans gutturally and moves against you faster. you’re not at all in control of how loud you’re moaning at this point.

“look at you, sweet girl, so fucking gorgeous-“

it isn’t long before your oversensitive clit is being brought closer to another orgasm. you make obscene noises as you cum again, ellie’s eyes trained on your face the whole time.

“there you go- let me cum all over that pretty- ah, fucking- mmmh, pussy-“ ellie grunts before cumming a few moments after you.

you both take about 5 seconds to recover before she’s scrambling to grab the strap. once ellie has it on, you lick your lips, staring at it.

“can i ride it?”

ellie’s eyes go big, and she basically throws herself onto the bed, lying back and patting her thigh.

you giggle and climb on top of her, kissing her lips again. she kisses you back eagerly, grabbing your hips and thrusting her hips up, but you pull back.

“nope. hands off and stay still.” you order, and her already very dilated eyes look like pools of black at this point. she nods, biting her lip.

you take the strap and run the tip of it through your folds. ellie whines as she watches this, her hips bucking a little with her fists clenching the sheets below her.

“hey, what did i just say?” you ask, a mischievous smile on your face.

she takes a shaky breath, “sorry.”

you laugh a little, “so needy, ellie.”

you make eye contact with her as your hand travels down your own body, taking the time to squeeze and play with your own breasts. meanwhile, ellie looks like she’s practically salivating.

your hand travels down your stomach to your cunt, rubbing your own clit for a second as ellie watches, her mouth agape.

your fingers spread your folds and dip inside you for a moment, curling up and making you moan.

ellie is desperate at this point, “please, jesus fucking christ, i need you so bad, you don’t under-“

you withdraw your fingers, giving ellie a look. “hmmm… sounds like you need something to keep that mouth of yours busy, huh?”

you bring your slick-covered fingers up to her mouth. “open.”

ellie immediately opens her mouth and starts sucking off your fingers, whimpers muffled.

you giggle, “awww, you’re too fucking cute… now keep sucking on those, yeah?”

without warning, you sink down onto ellie’s strap and start bouncing. ellie whines, her eyes fixated on your tits as they bounce with you, still eagerly sucking on your fingers. ellie’s eyes fall shut for a moment as the base of the harness gives her clit the friction she’s craving.

you keep bouncing on her strap, watching the fucked out glaze in ellie’s eyes, half-lidded and fully dilated.

“awww… you just needed to get fucked, that’s all… look how pretty you are…” you tease and ellie starts whimpering like she’s gonna come from your words alone.

after a few minutes, you start to tire and you take out the fingers in her mouth, slowing down, “now, fuck me like you mean it, ellie.”

those words are all the permission ellie need before flipping you over and drilling her hips into yours.

“-pussy’s so fuckin- fuck, so fuckin’ tight for me, babe-“ ellie whimpers, tucking her face into your neck.

you would find it more amusing that ellie is acting like this strap is physically attached to her if she wasn’t making you feel so fucking good. you cling onto her as she fucks you, slamming into you just right, over and over.

“i need to cum, please let me cum- i can’t fucking-“ ellie rambles, and you cut her off

“i’m close too, baby, it’s okay-“ you pant, your eyes clenching shut as she fucks you into your third orgasm.

ellie’s hips bottom out and she grinds herself deep into you as she cums against the base of the harness, her moans needy and breathy.

when you both start coming down, she pulls out and tosses the strap away wordlessly, going back to cuddle against you.

you’re completely exhausted (and both of you still slightly drunk) as you let her spoon you, barely saying anything before slipping into a deep sleep.

———

“so you just… left? without even saying goodbye?” mary asks over the phone as you walk into the music building on your college campus, lugging your beat up guitar with you.

“what was i supposed to do? make her breakfast and thank her for the 3 orgasms?” you ask, holding the door open for a girl running in behind you.

the girl gives you a look and your face gets hot, realizing she overheard what you said.

“i mean… maybe? she was super hot,” mary responds, slightly agitated

you groan, “yeah, she was hot, but i barely learned anything about her and we were both drunk. not necessarily promising grounds for a budding relationship.”

you walk up the steps to the room you’re headed to, checking your phone again for the right room number.

“yeah, but still. she seemed like she would be cool,” mary justifies and you sigh.

“well, if i ever see her again while we’re not drunk and horny, maybe i’ll ask her out. but right now, that’s really not a priority.” you say, finding the right practice room.

mary starts to talk again but you interrupt her, “i’m sorry, mary, but i have to go.”

“wait, why? i know you don’t have class right now.”

“i’m taking those private guitar lessons to satisfy that extracurricular credit, remember? it’s my first lesson, so i really don’t wanna be late,“ you say, and mary sighs.

“okay, whatever. have fun, and i’ll talk to you after?”

you agree and end the phone call, looking to check the room number again before you walk in.

your forced, ‘make a good impression’ smile is immediately wiped off your face when you see the familiar auburnette playing the guitar in front of you.

she looks up at you and her cheeks go red almost instantaneously.

you say, “sorry, i must be in the wrong room- i have a lesson-“

ellie’s eyebrows raise and she lets out a slow sigh, “you, uh, you have a lesson?”

you nod, gripping your guitar case.

ellie laughs a little, like this is some sort of prank that was pulled on her:

“then you’re in the right room, because i’m pretty sure i’m supposed to teach you guitar this semester.”

you sharply exhale the breath you were holding in as the realization of what’s going on sets in, “but… you’re an astrophysics major?”

ellie chuckles again, “and a music minor, babe.”

you restrain the groan that you desperately want to make, your stomach sinking.

ellie pats the empty seat next to her, “well… let’s get started then. you know any bar chords yet?”

[jenscx]

LUCID DREAM — ning yizhuo

it’s been years without ning yizhuo in your life. it feels surreal; the day you walked out without an explanation. but just the thought of being able to see her again, it draws you back into the endless loop of loving her.

TAGS — angst, exes to ???, insecurity, model!ning, ambiguous ending, mentions of alcohol, making up, jmj wedding (we don’t actually get to witness it tho)

WORDCOUNT — 7.4k

you stare at the wedding invitation, written neatly at the top, the invitation is addressed to a ning y/n. you want to cry. the invitation clearly stating your ex’s name makes your heart clench uncomfortably. it’s a blaring reminder that your relationship ended and you’re no longer living in your childhood fantasy.

“fuck,” you swear, “fuck you, kim minjeong.” you want to murder minjeong, but who were you to ask minjeong to stop reminding you of your bitter ending? especially since it was your own impulsiveness that had ended the relationship. you could have been more understanding towards yizhuo, could have tried her best to resolve your conflict, but no. instead, you ran. ran like the coward you were.

you remember the brokenhearted look on yizhuo’s face, the devastated glimmer in her eyes before she had flipped her expression to another, like a switch. or more like a broken one, your brain offers unhelpfully. of course, the quiver of her lips had given yizhuo away almost immediately. you had known yizhuo for a third of your life, obviously you could tell when your soulmate– or in this case, ex, was about to break down.

you wish you had stayed, and simply comforted your soulmate like old times, but you couldn’t bear to watch yizhuo cry, because of you. you remember the look on your friends’ faces when you told them that you broke up with yizhuo, all the words they had yelled at her for betraying yizhuo. you remember the anger directed at you by yizhuo’s parents when you had sent them an apology letter. through the post, yizhuo had told you, letters felt more sincere than emails.

but perhaps the worst reaction wasn’t from any of them, it was simply from your own cat. meowing viciously when you had picked him up, bringing him together with you. the scratches lining your arms only serve as a constant reminder. mao, your british short haired, was desperately attached to yizhuo (and she was the one who named him too. what absolute luck.) his hostility could only be reasoned that he knew his owner had hurt yizhuo. if a silly little cat knew the extent of the breakup, what could that mean for you?

“wallowing in your grief again? that’s not good for you,” you peer up at chaewon, the only friend that somehow wasn’t connected to yizhuo. chaewon takes a quick glance at the invitation and giggles, “you’re going? i hope you survive, you haven’t paid this month’s rent yet.”

you merely sigh.

“the place’s gonna be filled with people who hate my guts, you really think i’m going? minjeong probably only sent this to piss me off.”

chaewon frowns, “you don’t seem pissed off, just sad. honey, you have to let me know if they’re bothering you, like actually. it’s not your fault, well– maybe it is, but you’re suffering too. it isn’t nice for them to do this to you.” you shrug in response. you deserve it. you deserve every stab in your heart, you deserve the tears that escape in the middle of the night.

“let’s drink tonight, okay? we’ll put on titanic or something and cry about life while eating ice cream,” chaewon offers. maybe it’s the thought of getting drunk, or titanic, or crying in your friend’s arms, but the offer is appealing and you find yourself agreeing too soon.

you can hear chaewon do a silent cheer. it makes you smile slightly and gives you enough energy to pull yourself up from the floor.

“i’ll go get the soju, just lie on the couch and relax!” you follow as your friend says and lie on the sofa you had picked out together after mao’s claws had sunk into the leather, ripping it to shreds. the cat was a brat.

doesn’t this remind you of something– or someone? the voice in your head quips. you groan, why couldn’t your head shut up sometimes? your heart drops as you recall the conversation between your parents when you had told them you broke things off with yizhuo. you remember your mother’s expression; disappointed and upset, a stark contrast to when you had told her that you finally found someone. the proud look on your father’s when you introduced yizhuo to them, god, why the fuck was yizhuo such an amazing girlfriend?

you caused this. you want to scream ‘no’. you’re the one who dumped yizhuo. who are you to be upset over thi–

“y/n? hey, stop thinking about it,” chaewon pouts, “don’t make yourself even more sad!” you blink back into reality and at the sight of chaewon puffing her cheeks out, holding two bottles of soju and a large bowl of popcorn, make you want to coo at the girl. you push the thoughts of yizhuo to the back of your head as soon as the opening to titanic appears on the screen.

you two laugh sometimes, mostly chaewon, but it’s quiet throughout the movie and you can’t tell whether you’d rather have chaewon’s comments about how cute the actors are or the silence that allows you to delve deeper into your thoughts. you take a sip whenever chaewon mentions how in love jack and rose are.

when you blink, it’s already at the part where jack allows rose to get onto the wooden door, while he stays in the freezing water. chaewon throws popcorn at the tv, apparently already drunk, screaming at rose to quote, “fucking move her ass,” for jack to get on. you take a large gulp of soju in the midst of chaewon’s sniffles.

“y/n…i can’t believe it… she just let jack die!” chaewon cries out, “the love of her life, she just let him go! how could she just let him die?!” you nod, trying to drink the already empty bottle of soju.

when you stand up, the whole room swirls and you stumble back onto the couch. “don’t let her go, y/n!” you jump at the close proximity of chaewon’s voice, “don’t let the love of your life go!”

you hum in agreement and scream, “i won’t let her go!” determined, you pick up your phone and the selfie of you and yizhuo greets her. you miss her, don’t you? of course not. you don’t miss her at all. change your homescreen then. you wouldn’t.

you roll your eyes and enter kakaotalk.

y/n [11.38pm]:

i kiss you

i miss you*

read [11.39pm]

“i did it, chaewon!” you exclaim, “i didn’t let her go!”

drunk you is apparently an idiot, since we all know, if a ‘i love you’ can’t solve a crack, obviously a ‘i miss you’ wouldn’t be able to solve an earthquake.

i miss you too. i miss you so much it hurts. but how could you say that, when you’re the one that left me first? yizhuo doesn’t cry as much anymore. she doesn’t sob into her pillow in the middle of the night anymore. the couple posts that appear on her instagram feed doesn’t make tears well up in her eyes anymore.

it still hurts. hurts as much as it did before. and yizhuo might just have to live with that pain everyday. the misspelt word makes her heart throb, in affection and pain, because she could imagine your voice in her head. are you hurting as much as she is? it doesn’t make the stabbing pain in her chest any better to know that the one she loves is suffering.

yizhuo stares at the glaring light from her phone. i miss you. really y/n? she wants to scoff. you were probably drunk out of your mind and sent that text on a whim. or maybe it was meant for another girl. the thought makes yizhuo want to cry.

is there someone else you call ‘baby' now?

fuck, you think, oh fuck. the read blaring on your phone, as if mocking you.

“shit,” chaewon groans, holding her head, “what happened last night? did we accidentally kill someone?” you wish you did. you take a deep breath, and scream. if the neighbours show up the next moment, it’s totally because of the night before, and not your scream at 8 in the morning.

you calm down. eventually. you calm down after chaewon grabs your shoulders and wiggles you back and forth, yelling for you to get your shit together. it only worsens the raging headache the both of you have. if rent wasn’t so high nowadays, you would have immediately fled and lived alone. kim chaewon with a hangover was not a good sight.

“whatever! you drunk texted your ex! whatever! hashtag yolo right— ah fuck, the room is spinning,” chaewon shrieks, “ugh, why did we drink so much?! but! your life isn’t over! so what if you texted her? it’s okay, we stay delusional and pretend things never happened!”

despite the wacky talk chaewon gives, it actually helps. texting yizhuo, while drunk, was a mistake. you nod hastily, “i get what you’re saying, but please let me go.”

chaewon loosens her grip, pursed lips as she huffs, “the most badass thing you can do now is go to the wedding.”

your eyes widen, “what the hell? kim chaewon, are you crazy? no, you’re insane.”

your roommate only grins lazily, “it came with a plus one invite, right? i’ll go with you. it’ll be okay! and don’t you wanna see your friends again?”

“i do, but most of them hate my guts,” you wince, recalling the angry messages left by aeri and minjeong, none from jimin, that probably speaks for itself what she thought of you, “they were yizhuo’s friends first, and mine second. when it comes to things like this, they would, rightfully so, take yizhuo’s side.”

chaewon whistles, “yeah it’s not looking too good for you right now.”

you flop onto the couch, sighing, “if i see yizhuo, i’ll freeze up and make a fool of myself.” your hands fly to rub at your eyes, groaning miserably, “i guess i’m not over her.”

chaewon slides into the space next to you, scoffing, “you think? having her number saved and pinned is crazy and the last time we talked before this, you were in love with her. what happened?”

your heart constricts painfully. you never spoke about your breakup to anyone, only asking chaewon if she still needed someone to split rent with. the moment you had uttered those words, you had left the shared apartment with yizhuo, not turning back to watch the love of your life collapse.

“i…” your throat dries up, “i was in love with her, i guess i still am. i don’t doubt that she felt the same for me, but maybe not anymore. our relationship was the best thing to ever happen to me. the happiest years of my life were when i was with yizhuo. she made me feel alive.”

tears prick at your eyes involuntarily. chaewon’s gaze is full of pity and comfort. sympathy. no one else gave you that.

“she wanted to get married, chaewon,” you whisper, “she was ready for marriage. i wasn’t.”

“oh.”

“i saw her looking at engagement rings one day and god, it was like, how have i never noticed before? she always shows me videos of weddings and how she would want her wedding to be like, but i never stopped to think whether i wanted marriage. i didn’t know what i would say if yizhuo just proposed. would it have hurt less for her if i said no rather than breaking up with her?”

chaewon presses a comforting hand to your shoulder, sighing, “i’m sorry, i literally see two of you right now but i’ll try to articulate this as best as i can.” her words draw out a hollow laugh from you. “you just weren’t ready yet, and yeah, you should have communicated that to her before jumping in to break up, but have you ever thought that you weren’t ready because you didn’t love her enough?”

you swallow, tears flowing down your cheeks freely, “n-no, i love her. she’s my favourite person. i love her so much, too much even. but getting married? that’s a lifelong commitment. i just didn’t know if she was sure that she really wanted to spend the rest of her life with… me. she has her whole life figured out. she’s a rich model who could have anyone else. we were childhood friends first, before girlfriends. and now she’s certain that she wants to marry me? what if there’s someone better for her out there? she’s only been chained to me because we got together so young. i just… had to let her go.”

“commitment issues,” chaewon states, “you have severe commitment issues.”

“i guess so,” you let out a watery laugh. your roommate chuckles, “you want her back?”

“yeah, i’m desperate.”

“let’s go to the wedding.”

you send a small smile to chaewon, “thanks, roomie.”

“i saw the invite by the way, and damn, are your friends rich? don’t get me wrong, i’m going as your moral support but the free buffet too—”

“i’m literally going to strangle you.”

yizhuo twirls the pen in her hand, watching it glide across her fingers and abruptly landing on the wooden table with a thud. she couldn’t stand seeing all the wedding preparations and chose to hide in jimin’s study. the door creaks open, a figure stands by the doorway.

“hello jimin unnie, aren’t you meant to be looking over the finishing touches of your wedding?” yizhuo asks, her smile dimming as she thinks about marriage. jimin frowns, “minjeong’s doing that. she told me to come check up on you.”

“me?”

“i know how you feel about weddings. we all do,” jimin says bluntly. yizhuo’s lips fall into a thin line. of course her friends were aware. they helped pick out the ring for god’s sake. the weight of a velvet box lying in her bedside table haunts her dreams.

yizhuo stands up from her desk, inching closer to jimin, a faux smile on her face, “you don’t have to worry about me. it’s your special day after all.”

“not yet, but let me worry about my friend for a while more before i get married,” jimin mutters, “minjeong sent an invite to y/n.” yizhuo’s whole body tenses up. a blurry image of you appears in her brain. she immediately shuts that down.

biting the inside of her cheek, yizhuo turns away from jimin with folded arms, “and? did she say she was coming?”

yizhuo hears jimin’s hesitance.

“just say it.”

jimin clears her throat, “she’s coming with a plus one.”

a distant thought forms. a plus one. your new girlfriend? did you find someone else? were you coming to the wedding to flaunt your new lover? yizhuo wasn’t dumb, she knew that her friends disliked you, heavily. minjeong most definitely sent out that invitation with disgust. jimin told her what minjeong had said to you. aeri had barely brushed it off, saying you weren’t worth her time scolding, despite the chain of messages she sent. she knew that you were aware they hated you. why would you come to the wedding?

“i-i’m not sure what’s their relationship, but her name is kim chaewon and oh my god, minjeong’s gonna kill me, y/n requested for a shared hotel room,” jimin utters out nervously. yizhuo’s eyes turn into slits. a shared hotel room?

“i see,” yizhuo says indifferently, contrasting the feelings bubbling inside her, “that’s good to know.”

jimin places a hand on yizhuo’s shoulder, “hey, it could all mean nothing, i don’t want you to get hurt again.”

“does it matter when i’m already like this?” yizhuo retorts back.

“i hope you don’t do anything stupid. before everything, you’re still my friend. if y/n showing up makes you uncomfortable, i’ll tell her she’s not invited,” jimin says softly, “minjeong will understand. you come first.”

“it’s your wedding, jimin. i won’t be a burden to you guys. it’s your day,” yizhuo mirrors jimin’s frown.

jimin’s shoulders slack.

“it’s not about that,” the older girl retorts, exasperated.

“what is it about then?”

“i don’t think minjeong will stay neutral and be calm when she sees y/n,” jimin groans, “she’ll probably pick a fight with her and i don’t want my wife to be stressed and angry on her wedding day.”

yizhuo can’t help teasing jimin, “wife, huh?”

jimin smirks, “yes, wife. you know last week, minjeong called me—”

“oh kay! i think you should go!” yizhuo yells, saving herself from the details of her friends’ intimate lives. jimin cackles maniacally as she leaves the study. yizhuo sighs and leans her head against the wooden door. jimin’s footsteps can be heard as she walks downstairs, along with the voices of her friends. they’re all scattered and anxious, she hears the distant shouting of minjeong and aeri. despite the noise around her, yizhuo feels somewhat at peace. for now. she doesn’t know what she’s going to do the moment you come to the wedding.

because despite what everyone else says, yizhuo cannot move on. you were literally half of her life and more. when you had uttered those words of devastation, it was like the world had ended. a terrible nightmare that tortured yizhuo every single day. was she too overbearing? sometimes— well, last time, you had mentioned that she was a very affectionate and clingy girlfriend. was that the sole reason? yizhuo frowns. no, that couldn’t be. you were equally as physically needy as her.

maybe you had found someone new? the plus one that was coming? that didn’t seem plausible either. if you were cheating, yizhuo would most definitely know and you abhorred cheaters anyway.

as she wrecked her mind for reasons, a common past time she developed after you had left, the constant rewinding of the conversation had been engraved in her brain eternally.

(yizhuo had just gotten off work, a smile on her face as she entered the house, heels clacking against the floor. the thought of you waiting at home impatiently for her only brought her smile to widen. maybe you would run up to her and embrace her warmly, complaining about how long she took. yet, neither of those happened and she’s left staring at you, hunched over, at the dining table, a suitcase packed by your side.

“what are you doing?” she had asked curiously. were you going on a trip? begrudgingly, you had gotten up, a sombre look on your face as you whispered, “yizhuo…”

that ticked yizhuo off. you never called her yizhuo. it was always baby, honey, sweetheart. but never yizhuo. it sounded so foreign and cold coming from your lips.

“what’s wrong? is everything okay?” she asked.

your face contorts into one of utter desperation and heartbreak, “i think we should break up.”

yizhuo’s mind had gone blank. she had never anticipated hearing those words from you. break up? that wasn’t in her future with you. her heart clenched uncomfortably against her ribcage and her throat constricted, to the point she couldn’t mutter a single word.

taking advantage of her silence, you run your fingers through your hair, the hair that yizhuo would so lovingly comb through every night as she whispered words of devotion into your ear, “i want to break up.”

“no.” is the only thing yizhuo can say. wide-eyed and stupefied, “no.”

you look as stunned as she is, yet the stark difference between the two of you, are the tears that threaten to tip over at every passing second in your eyes.

“yizhuo,” you pleaded, “i’m sorry. i can’t.”

“why are you doing this?” she croaked out, demanding an answer. the weight of the velvet box in her purse felt like it was dragging her down to the darkest pits of hell. she couldn’t imagine something like this ever happening. you were meant to be her happily ever after.

“i—”

yizhuo couldn’t stand it anymore. “tell me why you want to break up!” she yelled, the confusion and fatigue of her body overwhelming everything.

“i… please… don’t make this harder than it already is.”

“you don’t love me anymore? you found someone else?” yizhuo accused. of course, none of these were the true reasons. you couldn’t even look at yizhuo in the eye before murmuring an apology again and grasping the suitcase in your hand.

“i love you,” you had whispered at the door, “i’m sorry.”

yizhuo doesn’t even respond. pure shock overtaking her as she watched you leave. the moment the door had closed, sobs took over yizhuo as she collapsed on the floor, heartbroken and devastated at losing the love of her life.

if you truly loved her, you wouldn’t have left so easily.)

that statement plagues yizhuo’s mind for the next few years. it replays in her head repeatedly, like a broken mantra. she knows that it’s unhealthy; to be thinking of you every night before she succumbs to a dreamless sleep. yet, sometimes, yizhuo prays that she might be dreaming, and when she wakes up, you would be right by her side. jimin thinks she should get a therapist. but yizhuo doesn’t want to get over you. she fears that you might just become a hazy memory, lost in anger and grief. she doesn’t want that to happen. because despite everything, the pain you have caused her, she still loves you.

it’s strange, the way love works. yizhuo hates you for doing this to her; ruining her for anyone else because if they even bore a similar trait to you, she would just break down. like the blind date aeri had set her up on long ago. fresh out of the breakup, and with extreme bribery and convincing, yizhuo had met shen xiaoting, one of aeri’s friends, over dinner. aeri had said that maybe yizhuo needed someone closer to her culture, and with the homesickness she felt constantly, the lack of comforting words that you provided, yizhuo agreed.

that date was the whole reason aeri stopped asking yizhuo to go on blind dates, for when xiaoting had mentioned that she liked cats, yizhuo had started bawling, the memory of you playing with your own pet cursing her mind.

it was embarrassing to say the least, and even more embarrassing to explain to xiaoting that it wasn’t her fault. the poor girl had thought yizhuo had something against cats. aeri apologised endlessly as yizhuo cried, with an awkward xiaoting patting her shoulder. at least they became friends.

maybe, with the support of her friends, yizhuo would be able to stand the sight of you at the wedding. it would be totally fine! and if she sees you with someone new, maybe, just maybe, it would give her the motivation to finally get over you.

honestly, screw everything. you literally hate chaewon right now. thankfully, jimin and minjeong had provided a one night stay at the hotel. your apartment (and mao) was being taken care of by sakura, one of chaewon’s friends. there was apparently a party before the actual day. you assumed they would just want a shared bachelorette party. however, your self-proclaimed wingman was cozying up to one of the guests. by her straight posture and gentle expression, she was probably nakamura kazuha from high school. yizhuo was friends with her, you remember.

you couldn’t believe that all those words of encouragement had flown out the window the moment chaewon locked eyes with the ‘love of her life’. you roll your eyes, already annoyed with your friend. somehow, you still hadn’t spotted yizhuo amongst the crowd.

most of them, you didn’t recognise. some, from high school and college. the rest, probably family members. maybe some faces stood out, like shin ryujin from history class or jang wonyoung, the valedictorian. but mostly, unrecognisable. from the various mops of hair in the crowd, you spot uchinaga aeri’s infamous smirk. you wonder where the rest of the group are.

you sigh, taking a lonely sip of the champagne they provided. at least it was good.

chaewon’s obnoxious laughter fills the area. it’s loud and irritating, or maybe you’re just easily annoyed right now. kazuha just stares at her, all confused. it’s a little funny.

“y/n.” a steely voice rings out from the crowd. you whip your head, heart racing at the familiar but dreadful tone.

“oh,” you whisper, horror-stricken. you weren’t prepared to meet them now!

the older girl merely stares at you, before you bow your head hesitantly, “congratulations on your marriage.”

jimin visibly loosened up, her eyes twinkling and shining with adoration, “thank you.” perhaps out of all of yizhuo’s friends, jimin was the one who hated you the least. she didn’t bother scolding you or cursing you out, only choosing to glare at you.

“i think we should talk,” she finally says after a moment of silence. you wholeheartedly agree with her. if you were meant to see yizhuo tomorrow, you definitely needed another friend that wasn’t chaewon.

she brings you out of the function room, the starry night sky being the only company outside. jimin takes a long gulp of her champagne.

“why’d you really break up with yizhuo?”

the patiently and dedicated stitches of a sewed wound are ripped apart, directly exposing your bleeding heart and emotions. everything comes falling apart the moment she asks. you can only stare at her.

“i… i made a mistake,” you shake your head, “i wasn’t ready.”

jimin, patient as always, hums, urging you to continue.

“she wanted to get married. i didn’t,” you say, with grief and regret lacing your every word, because everything would be fine if you had just talked to yizhuo.

“we helped her pick out the ring,” jimin adds. you only feel more guilty.

“i can’t give her the life she wants, unnie,” the endearing term of intimacy slips out, a cry filled with desperation, “she deserves the world and i can’t give her that.”

“you were her world. it’s that simple. she only ever wanted you.”

hurt gnaws at your heart, it’s palpitating with raw stabs that echo of your heartbreak.

“i don’t deserve her,” you sigh, “i had to let her go. i couldn’t bear to see the look on her face if i refused her engagement.”

jimin nods, “i understand your fear. but i hate the fact that this could have been solved with an explanation.”

you groan, anger coursing through your veins. you were so upset and narrow-minded at the time. the only solution was to seemingly break up with yizhuo. it would spare her the everlasting pain from a rejection of her proposal.

“i know, i just couldn’t at that time.”

the older girl tries to smile. it’s akin to one of those encouraging ones she would give right before an exam or test. it sparks a shiver of nostalgia.

“jagiya, where are you— oh.”

jimin quickly straightens up, swiftly turning around to face minjeong with a grin, “hey, mindoong.”

you tense up, your fingers wrapping around the glass tightly.

“glad you could make it,” minjeong’s eyes flicker up and down your body, venom evident in her tone as she hisses, “y/n.”

nodding, you reply, “thank you for inviting me.”

the tension is overbearing; with minjeong’s glares, jimin’s beaming smile and your awkward shuffling, you couldn’t wait to retreat to the comfort of your hotel room.

“where’s your girlfriend?” minjeong suddenly asks. you stare at her, confused, “my what?”

jimin’s eyes widen as she hastily pulls minjeong aside, frantically whispering in her ear. but like the past, jimin has never been a good whisperer. you catch phrases like ‘she might not be her girlfriend’ and ‘what if yizhuo hears?’. a looming sensation brews in your stomach.

“kim chaewon? is that her name?” minjeong asks harshly, “didn’t take you to like korean girls, i thought you liked chinese girls instead.”

you’re visibly taken aback. what was minjeong saying? chaewon? your girlfriend? since when was chaewon your girlfriend?

“uh,” despite your fear of minjeong yelling at you, your words come out firmly, “chaewon isn't my girlfriend.”

minjeong falters slightly before scoffing, “yeah right. you don’t have to lie now. we all know that you left yizhuo for some other girl.”

your heart stops. what?

what was she saying?

leaving yizhuo for another girl?

“i— i would never… that’s—”

“minjeong unnie, that’s enough.”

you’ve thought of this moment forever. every single day after the break up. you’ve thought of running back into her arms, apologising endlessly for even thinking of breaking up with her. you’ve thought of how she would accept you graciously with murmurs of comfort, because that was just how she was. a gracious and generous girl who deserved the world. you’ve thought of her bright smile and gleaming eyes.

you’ve never thought of her staring at you, a dull and saddened look on her face.

“ning—”

“minjeong unnie,” she pleads, “please.”

the watery gaze must have swayed minjeong over. you would know, having fallen prey to her puppy eyes before. yizhuo slides the door open, watching intently as minjeong and jimin leave.

“good luck,” jimin whispers just before she steps away. you think you need all the luck in the world right now.

yizhuo lets out a heavy sigh once the door slides closed. she gazes at you for a second. you’re taken back to your younger days, where every day was spent just staring at yizhuo. you had proclaimed confidently that yizhuo was the most gorgeous girl on earth. you aren’t wrong. the years you spent apart from her had done her generously. it had only been two, yet, yizhuo looked more mature and sure of herself.

“did you really find someone new?” she whispers, shattering the glass of ignorance. you swallow, shaking your head, “no.”

yizhuo thinks back to the drunken message you had sent.

“was that on purpose? that text you sent,” she asks, eyes wide and afraid of your answer.

you shake your head again, “i was drunk. i’m sorry.”

“i hate you, you know that right?” yizhuo says. before, you had imagined the piercing stab of pain that came with those words. you had thought it would be the end of your life, with the girl you loved the most saying she hated you.

it’s understandable now, and inevitable.

“i know,” you whisper.

yizhuo continues to stare at you. somehow, this all feels like a fever dream, one that she’ll wake up from soon. it feels unreal to have you in front of her again.

she takes in the sight of you, memorising every detail for if you leave again.

“why’d you come then?”

there are many reasons that you can say, with varying degrees of truthfulness; to congratulate jimin and minjeong, to see your friends again, to just visit your hometown.

“i wanted to see you.” it’s the truthest thing you’ve ever said.

“you can’t,” yizhuo inhales sharply, “yo-you can’t just show up like this.”

“i know, i’m sorry.”

your head hangs lowly.

“tell me the real reason why you left.”

you had expected this.

she would want closure.

your throat constricts uncomfortably.

“i… yizhuo…”

“tell me.” it feels similar to your past.

yizhuo looks as beautiful as ever. she’s the only thing you can think of right now. her lips are moving, yet you don’t hear a single thing.

“i didn’t want marriage.”

oh.

the girl’s eyebrows furrow. her eyes turning into slits of anger as she takes in a deep breath. you know she’s about to start tearing up. maybe you should quickly explain yourself.

it’s your only chance.

“i saw you looking at engagement rings and i knew i wouldn’t be ready if you got down on one knee. you’re a model, for god’s sake. you had a prospering career, being tied down to someone like me wouldn’t bring you any benefits,” you finally say. it’s not the full reason why, but you hope yizhuo would understand even a semblance of your choice.

“i know that it’s a shitty excuse. i know that i’m a coward. but what else was i meant to do?”

yizhuo huffs.

“talked to me. you could have talked to me.”

you resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“would that stop me from breaking your heart?”

the love of your life stands before you. yet, it seems like the only words of devotion you’ll exchange is how devoted she is to hating you. yizhuo crosses her arms, frowning, “yes. i’d much rather have a minute of heartbreak than years of it. you’re such a prick.”

“yizhuo—”

“no, you don’t get to do this,” she points a finger at your chest, prodding the area where your head resides ferociously, “you can’t just come back, explain yourself with an extremely stupid reason, and expect that i would be okay with it. you sent me a drunk text, saying you missed me. how come i don’t feel anything?”

“i love you, yizhuo. i just did what i thought was right in that moment—”

the only thing you can hear is your heart shattering into pieces at the sight of tears falling down her face. yizhuo sniffles, her voice becoming shrill as she adds on, “you’re an asshole. you think you’re the only one in this relationship? you didn’t even explain yourself properly. you think you’re making the right choices for us? for me?”

you continue to stare at her blankly.

the next words come out like a gunshot, “then you don’t know me at all.”

it snaps onto your skin, leaving a scathing burn and engraving ning yizhuo’s name into your body. your insides coil up painfully. hearing yizhuo’s cries as you left years ago had been torturous, but nothing beats her breaking down in front of you right this instant. you’re overcome with a striking urge to pull her into your arms and whisper words of affection into her ears, promising her to never leave. the pet name leaves your mouth quicker than you can think.

“baby—”

a sharp stinging sensation sears in your right cheek. you can feel the affected area heating up, scorching hot and red. yizhuo’s handprint is evident, singed in your skin.

an onslaught of tears rises, but you’re determined to not let them fall.

“okay,” you whisper, unable to say anything else to the equally stunned yizhuo, “i’ll leave. i’m sorry.”

the girl just stands outside in the cold, her eyes bloodshot and cheeks rosy from the wind. before you go, the slight shiver that runs through her body makes you hesitate. the comfort of your jacket feels like a heavy burden now.

maybe you would get slapped again. but at least yizhuo wouldn’t be cold.

gently taking it off, you encase yizhuo in your jacket, biting your cheek (which still hurts!) to resist a smile at how it covers her small figure. she gazes at you like a deer caught in headlights. you sigh and try to move your legs, but they feel like jelly. with much difficulty, you finally make it to the door, using the frame to stabilise your wobbly walking.

when you turn back, yizhuo isn’t staring at you, but she’s staring at the night sky, more specifically, the moon. you take one last look at her. the weight on your shoulders is gone now. and all that is left is a longing feeling to have yizhuo back in your arms again. but maybe, you could live with that.

sliding the door open, you go back into the function room. the crowd had dispersed, leaving just a few people chatting around. you spot jimin and minjeong talking while drinking. aeri’s at the bar, engaged in a conversation with a waitress. chaewon, god bless her, is relatively nearby, while kazuha is nowhere to be found.

“chaewon,” you breathe out, relieved. she turns to you, startled, “oh damn, what happened to your face? you look a little…”

“i know,” you laugh dryly, “i think it’s time for us to leave and go to sleep now.”

chaewon doesn’t argue and instead nods, her eyes drawn to the reddening mark across your cheek. even in the dark light, she could still notice the imprints of someone’s fingers.

“she slapped you?” she asks while you head towards the elevator.

“yeah,” you scratch the back of your neck, “we kind of… argued.”

chaewon laughs heartily at your misfortune. you’re glad at least this brings someone joy. maybe minjeong too. she would love to see you in pain.

“i think you should get some rest buddy,” she pats your back. you nod, feeling as if sleep was just an arm’s reach away.

the conversation with yizhuo had drained you significantly, both mentally and physically. and maybe you should put some ointment on the red area too. you might wake up with a bruise or something tomorrow.

the urge to flop into bed is too strong as chaewon slides the keycard into the slot. the door opens, revealing a luxurious hotel suite with a king-sized bed. you remember requesting for a shared room. it was to mainly prevent yourself from doing anything reckless when drunk. you’d have chaewon to keep you grounded.

“did you get kazuha’s number?” you ask as chaewon throws her face cleanser at you. the girl giggles, “yeah. she’s so cute.”

you subtly cringe at the lovestruck look in her eyes.

groaning, you head into the bathroom. your eyes widen as you prod at your cheek, shocked that yizhuo landed such a heavy hit. damn, has she been going to the gym lately? the yizhuo back then barely had any strength to resist your tickles. there wasn’t any surging hot anger left from yizhuo slapping you, just a dull and yearning hope for her. maybe you should calm yourself down by taking a cold shower.

after dowsing yourself with water, you padded out of the bathroom, only to discover that chaewon wasn’t hunched over her luggage anymore.

you check your phone.

chaewon [10.27pm]:

zuha texted me, staying w her for the night

there’s ointment on the bedside table

for ur stupid face

bye :p

wow. chaewon had managed to do that within a day. staying at a girl’s hotel room? you whistle lowly. maybe she was onto something. but with her departure, the hotel room feels too quiet now. only the breezing and fluttering sounds of the airconditioning accompanying your thoughts of self-loathing. collapsing onto the bed, you reach out for the ointment.

just as you unscrew the cap, the doorbell rings. you don’t recall ever ordering room service. maybe it was chaewon and she forgot something?

you turn the door knob, not bothering to check who it was.

“chaewon—”

ning yizhuo stands before you, glassy eyes and a look of desperation that you’re familiar with.

“oh.”

she shuffles awkwardly, gesturing at your cheek, “are—is it okay? does it hurt?”

gulping, you shake your head.

“can we talk?” she asks, in the quietest voice ever, her words coming out shaky and breathless.

you open the door wider.

yizhuo mutters a soft, “thank you,” as she enters the room. you quickly send a text to chaewon telling her not to come back.

“did you put any cream on it?” she asks.

“no, not yet. i was just about to,” you reply quietly. the tension from the heated argument from before had disapparented, only leaving a strained relationship behind.

“can you sit down?”

you follow her instructions dutifully, sitting right at the edge of the bed. yizhuo lifts the ointment up, squeezing a bit on her finger before gently rubbing it into your cheek. it hurts, but the softness of her touch heals the area.

wincing as she applies more pressure, you can only stare at the girl.

“i’m sorry,” she whispers.

“it’s okay.”

you want to pull her into your arms.

you want her to lean onto you.

you want the feeling of her skin against yours.

“i was really hurt.”

“i know.”

yizhuo sighs, her hands dropping.

“i can’t believe you left me so easily.”

your chest tightens at the devastated tone in her voice. it wasn’t easy, you want to say. but it doesn’t feel right to defend yourself now.

“i thought it was the right thing to do.”

yizhuo lifts her head up, “why didn’t you just tell me you didn’t want to get married?”

“i don’t know,” it comes out in a hushed murmur, “i didn’t want to tie you down. you had a lot more things to accomplish.”

“i’d rather have you and nothing than losing you and having everything.”

the confession goes unsaid. because you’re her everything.

“i’m sorry. you just had your whole life in front of you and i was in the back. i… i didn’t fit into your life.”

the girl takes everything in. you were just so afraid then. scared that once you said yes to her proposal, yizhuo might realise that you weren’t the one for her. you’d rather be away from her, than be with her and make her unhappy. you didn’t want to live a miserable life where you hated each other.

“you don’t get to make that choice for me.”

“i know, yizhuo.”

yizhuo’s eyes are brimming with tears. her raven hair covering her face partially, but you can feel the pain radiating off her.

“you know that i would have been happy just being with you?”

“i know.”

“god, you still left like it was the easiest decision of your life.”

no it wasn’t, you again want to protest.

“you know that even in another life, i would choose to just have you by my side, even if i lose everything else? don’t you understand the extent of my love for you?”

it’s so surreal— the way yizhuo is practically begging for you to realise that leaving her was the worst possible choice for you to make.

“i love you too much.”

“then why’d you leave?” she asks.

through tears, you shakily breathe out, “because i love you too much.”

the lack of past tense doesn’t bother you, nor does it bother yizhuo. it’s a given that you’re still madly in love with the girl, and vice versa. it only leaves the question of what will happen now. yizhuo doesn’t say much afterwards. it’s the truth. you love her too much that you couldn’t bear to see her suffer because of you.

“i was so ready to marry you, i bought a ring,” yizhuo mutters, shedding tears. her sniffles aren’t concealed by the low humming of the air conditioning. it feels too real.

“forgive me, please,” you say.

“i can’t.”

the hotel room goes quiet.

“that’s okay,” it’s hard to say. you want to protest against everything, beg yizhuo to take you back and you could live your happily ever after with her.

it doesn’t happen. you don’t fall to your knees and plead.

you only stare at yizhuo in a mix of fear and longing affection. it pains you to see her so broken, and it only drives the knife further into your heart to know you’re the reason why.

“i’m so tired, y/n.”

you nod, feeling the fatigue seep in.

“me too.”

“can i sleep here tonight?” yizhuo asks softly.

you nod. there were still things to talk about, but you think you’ve done a decent job so far. pulling the covers over your bodies as yizhuo slides into the bed, you relish in the warmth and comfort of having her beside you again.

she turns her head to look at you, uncertainty filling her voice, “let’s talk more in the morning. i’m tired now.”

you agree with her wholeheartedly, inching closer to fit against her back.

as yizhuo’s eyelids flutter shut, you caress her skin tenderly. your index finger writes against her back, strokes lining her skin.

我爱你.

i love you. it’s one of the many phrases you’ve picked up throughout the years of being with the girl. she only taught you silly words and swears, but yizhuo had insisted you learn how to say and write those very words.

it’s fitting, because it’s all you ever feel for her.

because of yizhuo, you’ve had the opportunity to experience having a soulmate for almost your whole life. because of yizhuo, there’s no lingering doubt of being unlovable. because of yizhuo, you get to spend your days filled with happiness.

because of yizhuo, you understand what love is.

you just hope she understands you too.

[jensettermandu]

birthday wish - jennie kim

genre; smut, slight angst, fluff, smut with some plot

pairing; jennie x g!p reader

content; breeding kink, oral (reader giving), spanking, rough sex, degrading, humiliation, creampie (?), brattiness, probably missed something

synopsis; it's her birthday and she only has one wish

wc; 17k+

masterlist

a/n: this was written in two days, sorry if it is not up to standard with my usual writing. i forgot about the bday since i don't usually write for anything special for them

Loud music, drinks (many free ones), dancing, and partying in a way she hadn’t been able to do in a couple of months. She was finally able to party like a teen which had been hard. Jennie had turned 28 and was reaching her peak yet at some point everything had turned sour and bitter in her life. It wasn’t unusual, things would always go up and down and she was old enough to accept it.

What was a lot harder to accept was the break-up she had with her ex-girlfriend about four months ago. The concept of not being good for each other, that loving wasn’t enough if they brought out these bad sides of jealousy, possessiveness, and the fights it would cause. It was a tough fall to break up with someone who she had started seeing when she was in her early 20s–22 to be exact and broken up with later on. That was someone she had spent half of her tweenies with.

That person who she had been at a peak with, who always made her feel like a teen in love. Who flew her through the sky, into a new universe and now had her crash back down to earth after a high that lasted for five years. Five years had been bumpy, but it didn’t matter if they had been trying all the time. There was only so long they could go off of feeling like teens when they were adults. At some point the fun had to be limited, or did it have to be? Did she have to grow up? 

It was her Birthday.

Jennie and her friends had pre-gamed before they went bar hopping.

The idea?

They couldn’t wait for Jennie to get laid now that she was over her ex-girlfriend who they liked to call an asshole. Jennie would argue about that because she wasn’t an asshole. She just loved too hard and so did Jennie. An asshole wouldn’t be able to give Jennie the best years of her life despite having many more to come, nor would an asshole be able to give her mind-blowing sex.

The sex.

Jennie had found herself horny for the past month.

Jennie had found herself pathetically wasting money on sex toys that sufficed for the moment, but not long term.

All that, but she hadn’t been able to go out and meet someone to hook up with.

She was scared she would get disappointed and feel like only one person could satisfy her truly.

The woman wasn’t supposed to be running back to her ex after crying for two months straight, and then managing to slowly start functioning normally on the third and now was the fourth and she was out partying–looking to get laid and fully forget her ex by finding someone who could fuck her good enough.

Fuck it out of her mind, leave her memories a blur.

It was the third place they had been to.

“Anyone hot yet? We’re not leaving until you leave first because you’re going to drop your panties for a stranger.” Lisa was right by her ear as she spoke, shot still in her hand as the dozen girlfriends that Jennie was with had just been served another round.

“You have to lose your post-breakup virginity, babe.” Jisoo came from the other side and spoke into her ear, making Jennie giggle at the slurred words of the drunk woman.

“I’m literally on it, I’ve been standing and looking pretty the whole night,” Jennie argued as she wasn’t the one to walk up to someone.

“To sex!” Lisa’s words earned squeals and shouts from the other girls, Jennie drowned herself in yet another shot. Her world was slowly starting to spin, knowing that in three more shots, she would be perfectly drunk. That type that left her euphoric and not blackout drunk.

“I will be back.” Jennie found herself making it to the bathrooms, there was no line fortunately for her as she walked in. The music was still making her body vibrate despite being muffled in the bathroom that was filled with the chatter of girls in the cubicles and by the sink.

She was trying her best, but it was difficult to just throw herself back out there. There were plenty of fish in the sea, but the deep waters would always be scary and she had just managed to dip herself in it.

She reached into her purse after finishing her quick business as her phone had started to buzz. Her eyes squinted to read the texts that were a tinge blurry, all she could tell was that they were from her friends who had spammed the group chat and made it hard to understand what the topic was or why they were texting incoherent words to begin with.

“Jesus!” Jennie exclaimed at the bang that came on her door, making her shut her phone off right away. Her heart jumped at how scared she got and she planted her hand against the door for safety even if there were other people in the bathroom.

“Knock knock.” Her heart jumped much higher now.

“Y/n?” She questioned the voice that was all too familiar and made her whole body feel like jelly from the second she heard it.

“Hey, sexy.”

“No, definitely not, Y/n–get the fuck away from me.” It was like a disease if Y/n touched her. She would get infected right away.

Fun fact: Jennie lied to her friends when she said that she was over Y/n.

“Happy Birthday, Jen–”

“Please, we’re over, I do not want to see you and you know it, Y/n.” Jennie was desperate for the girl to leave. Her night had been perfect and now that Y/n had appeared from nowhere, she knew what mistakes she would make and how the night would get better because she missed Y/n. The easiest fish to catch for Y/n was Jennie, she reeled her in with ease.

It never was a messy breakup as they agreed on it, but it still took a toll because despite knowing that they at times were no good for each other, they still loved strongly. They loved each other stronger than anyone else, even their families didn't get that kind of love and Jennie loved her mother dearly. Which also made it an easy decision that was hard to go through with.

“Do I? I know that I want to see you, Jennie. I am quite sure you want to see me too.” Jennie heaved a sigh, staring at the stall door while fighting all these urges. She wanted to convince herself that she would stand in this cubicle until her death just to avoid Y/n. That if she walked out of it she would walk right past her and not look back because they were supposed to be looking at their future.

This was the woman Jennie had planned a future with.

She would let Y/n spit that addicting poison right back into her mouth, there were still remnants of it left as she hadn’t moved on.

She unlocked the cubicle.

God, Jennie was weak, as in literally and metaphorically.

Y/n blocked the way as she stepped inside the cubicle and closed it before locking it too. She leaned back against the door and her eyes took in Jennie to the fullest.

The brunette widened her eyes and looked up at the girl who was younger by a few months as she had that usual enigmatic smile that always made Jennie curious about what she was thinking. That always drew Jennie in and made her cling to her and ask about it all, the answers were always the best. Her face was still as perfect as when they met, those eyes that would always gaze with adoration, perfectly plump lips, upturned nose, her slim figure, and all that Jennie always was attracted to when it came to her looks. Although, it had always been far more than just her looks that Jennie was attracted to.

“Sexy was no joke–” Y/n stopped talking, realising that she hadn’t seen her in four months after seeing each other every day for the past five years and living together for the past three and a half. The cubicle was getting Jennie’s scent trapped, the one that made it possible to sleep at night and Y/n had to spray her sheets with it unless she wanted more sleepless nights. The woman was dressed simply yet she made it look complicated with her beauty, a backless top, and black cargos, her figure shown off. Black had always been her colour and Y/n had always loved her in black, from clothes to lingerie.

Neither of them was over the other.

“Y/n.” Jennie said and her hands came up to plant themselves against Y/n's stomach when she stepped closer. Y/n smiled, her hand brushing over Jennie’s bare arm and it was enough to send shocks of familiarity and longing through the kitten's whole body. It was like it was shaking her from how electric it was, it was as if her body was charged right back up and coming back to life.

She sighed and suddenly took the few steps back that were needed for her back to touch the stall and make her somewhat squirm at how cold it was against her shoulder blades. It was overwhelming to have Y/n so close to her, their eyes stuck right together, those emotions of longing, and sadness, yet so much happiness at the back of it all of seeing one another again.

“It was so different waking up today with an empty bed and no Jennie to spoil from morning to night—it was more than an empty bed.” Y/n’s tone fell, one that was loud enough just for Jennie to hear. The slender fingers reached up to the face that held home on it, fingers running along Jennie’s jaw. It was still the same woman, the one Y/n fell in love with.

This was so bad for the Jennie who had lied about moving on.

This was so good for the Jennie who never wanted to move on.

Jennie grabbed hold of Y/n’s hand and removed it from her face, although she didn’t let go of it. It felt too good to hold her again. “How did you know I would be here? You weren’t looking for me, were you?” A sly and cheeky smile graced Y/n’s lips at the question. Out of the whole nightlife of Seoul she still somehow managed to run into her. It was the popular area in Gangnam, one they used to head to all the time, but still.

“No, not much better to do on weekends than to go out with friends now that I don’t have you. I knew it was your birthday, so all I did was hope that you would show up at this club at some point.” She had hoped she would at least catch a glimpse of her. It was shot in the dark as Seoul was big and it had been hours since they went out, but all she did was hope that Jennie would head out for her birthday–hopefully without anyone new.

“I’ve missed you–a lot.” Y/n was the first to admit it, her fingers intertwined with Jennie’s as she had never let go of her hand. She raised it before pinning it beside her head, taking that small step that left them dangerously close to each other. Jennie gripped Y/n’s black sweatshirt, unsure if she wanted to push her away or drag her closer.

“I’ve missed you too.” There wasn’t a single nerve in her body that could make her hold back on those words. Jennie looked down at Y/n’s lips as she had licked them. God knew how much she had missed her. It couldn't have been healthy. It made Jennie act out in way she hadn't done before. It made her feel crazy. 

“Are you here with someone?” Y/n knew the question could have many answers, she was praying for one that didn’t involve someone who had replaced her. Could anyone replace her?

“With–” The answer came before Jennie could utter it herself.

“Jennie?” It was Jisoo.

Followed by Lisa. “Are you here?”

“You think she just left?” Chaeyoung questioned.

“Check the stalls?”

The two looked at each other. It would be bad news for Jennie if she was seen with Y/n in the same cubicle right now. There was no way she would be able to explain herself and even if she would be able to–was it bad that she didn’t want to leave just yet? Maybe the best gift she could have received on her birthday was to fill that hole that had been left after an important part of her life had left. Even for one night.

Their silent communication worked wonders still after being away for four months. Y/n stepped back, grabbing hold of the top of the stall as she got on top of the toilet seat while helping Jennie up by pulling her by her hand. The two somehow managed to squeeze on that seat, holding onto one another to not fall.

Even if it was just for a night, it would still make it another memorable birthday.

Jennie didn’t have to tell her friends about it.

“I swear to God if she left with her.” The two looked at each other at what Chaeyoung said.

“Are you sure it was Y/n?”

“Yes, I could recognise that little shithead from miles away.”

“What did you tell them–” Jennie covered Y/n’s mouth so they wouldn’t be heard by accident. It was baffling to the girl to hear Chaeyoung talk about her like that. Had they both agreed to a breakup if Jennie had talked bad about Y/n to relieve her gloom and anger?

“She’s over her.”

“Who knows anymore? It’s like she’s someone completely different without her and it’s not even in a good way.” Y/n’s eyes softened at the words that left Jisoo and Jennie hid her face in her arm as she was still covering Y/n’s mouth.

“Maybe she found a hookup and forgot to text–just send another message because she’s not here.”

The two waited for a good minute before they climbed down the toilet seat and Jennie opened her phone to see the text in the group chat. This time she scrolled up to see that they were all saying how Y/n was at the bar and they were waiting for Jennie so they could leave for a new one. She decided to text them about finding a hookup.

“What did you tell them to hate me so much?” Y/n questioned again and Jennie put her phone away.

“I was pissed okay–cut me some slack if you were the one to walk out the door,” Jennie grumbled and opened the stall as she walked out of it at last. Y/n followed right after her, picking up in her pace as the shorter girl took quick steps until she got to the countertop with the sinks.

“Hey, hey, I thought it was a mutual agreement to break up.” Now Y/n was confused because despite it feeling almost impossible to leave they agreed on it. She thought they both left with the same intentions and the same mindset. They loved each other, but at times it felt like they did love too much and it held them back.

“Yeah, it felt like I had no other choice but to agree when you suggested that we break up.” Jennie had tried to force that mindset on herself, to be on the same page because she knew what the problem was of being together and still living in the past. They needed to grow up. It was stupid, she did want to grow up, but she didn’t want to grow apart. It caused her temporary depression, anger, and frustrations which she took out by bad-mouthing Y/n to her friends. It hurt her to see the woman she had spent five years with just walk out the door as if Jennie hadn’t been a major part of her life.

“Are you angry at me because you didn’t tell me how you felt?”

“Yes, I am because what would it change if I said no? I thought you knew me well enough to understand that I didn’t want any of this, Y/n.” The latter was in disbelief at the words as she stood behind Jennie who was furiously washing her hands. It went quiet between the two of them, the only thing filling the silence was the muffled music and chatter of people around them. No one around them mattered though, they never did when they were together. It was like they were in a different world with each other.

Jennie stopped and held onto the counter, a frown on her face as she looked at Y/n through the mirror. She felt like a fool for being the only one, for thinking that Y/n would be able to read her mind. She knew that it was her fault too because it had been a suggestion and she agreed when she felt like there was no other choice. There was a reason why she had suggested it and Jennie knew that it was valid. She just didn’t want to go through with it and stupidly expected for Y/n to read her mind like some idiot. 

“Come on.” Y/n didn’t answer the question. She couldn’t answer it because she didn’t want to hurt Jennie by making her realise the time they wasted away from each other. Y/n would have stayed. She only suggested what she thought would benefit them both, it did in one way as it let them realise what they truly needed. 

They needed each other.

She grabbed her hand and Jennie was led through the club. She just let her steal her away. It was how they met and she would always let Y/n drag her anywhere like the first time they met at a party where Y/n dragged her away from it only to give her the most memorable night of her life by showing her how to let go.

“Jacket, why do you not have a jacket?” Y/n questioned as they stepped out of the bar and were met by the cold night of January with snow lying around.

“I left it in the car we came in.” Y/n shook her head while exhaling through her nose and removing the oversized leather jacket she had on.

“You’re being stupid–What’re you even planning to do?” Jennie questioned, Y/n was now left in the black loose sweatshirt as she moved behind Jennie. The girl looked back while putting her arms through the sleeves. She was confused, but she couldn’t just walk away. She had no idea what Y/n was planning on doing. They weren’t together, they were supposed to live their own lives, and she had no clue why she had stayed. What was the plan if they were broken up?

“It would feel wrong to run into you and not give you a gift on your birthday,” Y/n argued, coming back around and bending her knees slightly to grab the ends of the jacket to zip it up. Jennie was drowning in the warmth that Y/n had left after her together with the scent that she wanted to bury her face in. It felt like she would maybe regret it afterwards because she was quite sure they would go back to their new lives right after parting ways again. It would feel like the break-up all over again.

“I do not expect anything from you if we aren’t toge–” Y/n didn’t seem to listen to Jennie when she grabbed her hand and made her walk beside her. She didn’t hold her hand like they always used to do, but her palm rested against Jennie’s lower back to make sure that she wasn’t getting lost anywhere.

It was crowded with people, they were flooding from everywhere and Y/n kept walking without a stop. She was stuck with her gaze on Y/n who looked down at her with a small smile. It was enough to make Jennie’s world blind and her heart bounce in a familiar beat. Had she just broken Jennie’s walls down once again, but even quicker than she did the first time? It was frustrating. She let Y/n in so easily when she should lock her out, put up millions of walls, higher than the sky, with no way in or out. 

“Y/n?”

There was so much she could tell her right now and she couldn’t tell how Y/n would respond to any of it.

“I know it’s a lot to ask for after everything, but could you do one thing for me, Jennie? To just forget everything for two hours, three tops.” Y/n interrupted all the questions Jennie would like to ask. She felt horrible to know the truth that they both agreed to something they thought the other wanted. Y/n never wanted to break up with her, but neither did she want to be an obstacle in Jennie’s life. The stupid little fights they had still hurt them both, the last thing Y/n ever wanted was to hurt Jennie, but she still somehow did. 

She knew that she should have known, and maybe she did at the back of her head since she had known Jennie for over five years. Things sometimes just didn’t go as planned.

It wasn’t hard to forget when she was with her again. Y/n made everything bad go away.

“Fine, Y/n,” she still trusted her with her life. She'd jump right back into those deep waters where her only safety was Y/n. 

“Okay, sit down right here and do not run away,” Y/n said after they had entered a convenience store. She pulled the stool out and guided Jennie to sit on it who was still busy figuring out what the girl was doing and why they had to pass so many other stores and stop at this one. With no other choice, Jennie sat and only glanced back at Y/n who disappeared between the shelves. There was slight anticipation growing in her the whole time, she stayed fiddling with her fingers as she rested her hands atop the table.

She stopped for a moment, grabbed the collar of the jacket that was oversized and pulled it up to her nose. The scent had washed off of her clothes at home, the clothes Y/n had left behind had been worn to where the scent no longer lingered on them and she had to wash them. It made Jennie curious how Y/n went through it.

Had she also been pathetically looking through endless photos in her gallery?

Drowned herself in Jennie’s scent?

Had Y/n finished the season finale of the series they had been watching together, but broke up right when the finale came out. Jennie had been waiting even if they weren’t together and would never get to know the end.

Had she been dwelling in all their plans for the future that now only was a past?

Had she been hurting just as much?

Jennie heaved a sigh and let go of the collar, reaching her hands up to her eyes as she knew that she wasn’t over Y/n. She was holding on, she was even out with Y/n even if it would feel like the break up all over again once Y/n would leave. Her fingers gently patted away the wetness that had warmed in her eyes. How did she let go of something that was securing her from falling off the ride?

It was time to stop dwelling when Y/n sat down right beside her on the vacant stool.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” The girl sucked air through her teeth and quickly put the noodle bowl down that was steaming. Jennie looked at what more she somehow managed to carry when she leaned over and dropped the things on the table.

“Since I am no chef, this is the best I could do and the ramen is how you like it.” She started while taking the ice cup and opening it. Jennie slid it over to herself and peeled off the lid fully. It was just ramen with Y/n making it fancier and better by adding more toppings; Jennie was desperate as she could never get it right since Y/n always made it for her the way Jennie loved it. It was just instant ramen, but it was her comfort food which hadn’t been the comfort she had been looking for. It would somehow suffice for now.

“Thanks.” She was a bit more than thankful, but she wasn’t sure how else she should thank her.

“Don’t thank me, it’s your birthday.” Jennie chuckled at that as she grabbed the chopsticks and looked at Y/n who poured the mango-flavoured iced tea into the cup with ice.

“Very thoughtful to drag me to a convenience store.” Y/n shook her head and picked up the cup, taking two big gulps before placing it back down.

“Yeah, God forbid I drag you to a fancy restaurant–don’t worry though…” Y/n trailed off and Jennie moved back slightly when she reached over to her. She smiled at Jennie, her face just a few inches away from Jennie’s as she reached over to the other side. Y/n’s hand reached into the right pocket of her jacket that Jennie had on while sitting on her left.

Jennie wasn’t sure what she wanted when Y/n was so close to her. One thing she was certain of was that she missed all of Y/n’s loving and caring touches, the ones that always touched her soul. Jennie missed being held in her arms, falling asleep with them around her. She missed the safety, the security that came from being in them, and the feeling of not having to be afraid to be herself because she trusted Y/n so much.

She grabbed what she was looking for with a sly grin as she pulled away. “If you celebrate, you have to celebrate right, don’t you?” Y/n let out in a more hushed tone that was still honeyed and Jennie could listen to her talking all day. That was something she had done because Y/n always had something to talk about.

The kitten parted her lips at the flask Y/n had taken out of her pocket, taking the cup down and placing it between her thighs. “Since when do you carry a flask around?” Jennie questioned, the last time she had seen Y/n with one was when they were still in college. It kind of worried her that maybe the girl had started drinking. Y/n let out a breathless chuckle, unscrewing the steel flask before filling the iced tea back up to the brim, but this time with tequila.

“Only today.” She reassured Jennie and lolled her head to the side to look at Jennie. That smile did not leave as she put the lock on, the flask back in the left pocket instead and she put the straw through the lock before mixing it up. 

Jennie rolled her eyes as she, at last, started to eat the instant ramen that tasted better than most things she had ever eaten simply because it was made by Y/n. It also was something that killed all her cravings that were caused by the alcohol and food had simply never tasted better. Y/n always knew just what Jennie needed by looking at her. Yet she had somehow missed how Jennie never truly wanted to part ways.

“Just don’t inhale everything, I want a bite before you do.” Y/n laughed when Jennie elbowed her, making Y/n squirm away. “God, you’re rude.”

“Stop being a little piece of shit, Y/n.” Jennie seriously said and looked at Y/n who was already looking at her through her lashes with the straw in her mouth. “Not cute.”

“I tried.” Y/n said in defeat and handed the large plastic cup to Jennie who slid the ramen over to her with the chopsticks. “Oh, my bite is gonna come with extra flavours since there are Jennie germs in it.” Jennie hurt her throat when she swallowed the lump of iced tea with tequila before she could spit it out because she felt that huff before she giggled.

“Stop acting imbecilic.”

“Imbecilic, big words for a 28-year-old. I can say that I’m proud of you.” Jennie rolled her eyes and watched Y/n slurp up a bite of noodles with a hum after. “So good–”

“Don’t.” Jennie stopped her before she could say something stupid again and pulled the ramen back to herself. It was all coming right back, just being with Y/n for a few minutes, starting a conversation, and she was reminded all again why she loved her so much. How she made her feel so good about herself, how she cut Jennie slack by being herself which let Jennie drop all her guards down right away and be herself too. How she was back to feeling ten years younger and like she could just be herself for the night or whenever she got back home to Y/n–used to.

“Here, the monster is coming for your mouth, Jennie.”

“You did not just say that out loud Y/n.” Jennie giggled, the younger girl holding the gimbap and guiding it towards her mouth as it was still in one piece. Y/n gasped and looked at Jennie in disbelief. “Ew, why are you being dirty-minded, Jen.” She slapped Y/n’s shoulder, her cheeks hurting from how much she had been smiling and giggling. It didn’t matter if Y/n had asked her to forget everything for a few hours, Y/n automatically made her forget everything.

“You are, I didn’t say that I had something dirty in mind.” She defended herself. The two did not care about the rest of the people who went in and out of the store, or the people passing by the window. The radio played the most recent K-pop songs to fill the store, but all they could focus on were each other's words, giggles, and stares which were numbing all the pain.

Y/n grinned and shot her eyebrows up in a manner that suggested that the next words to leave her mouth would be far from appropriate as she still held the gimbap up ready to feed the feline. “Well, you can surely open wide enough for it to fit–” Y/n squeaked at the pain when Jennie this time hit her thigh, hitting a nerve because the pain made her hunch over.

“Not fitting at all.” Y/n chuckled at the words that came from Jennie and she looked up at her as she was still hunched over. “Is the joke not fitting or the gimbap?” Jennie groaned at that and Y/n sat up straight.

“Okay, here comes the train–Better?” Y/n asked.

Jennie hummed and opened her mouth as Y/n went back to trying to feed her a bite after they both devoured the noodles together. She grabbed hold of Y/n’s writs to make sure she aimed right and at last managed to bite off a piece. The latter reached over to Jennie’s face whose cheeks were fluffed out from having her mouth full.

Her finger brushed the corner of Jennie’s lips who only turned her head more to Y/n as she was used to it. The girl always fed her, always wiped her mouth, always knew what to order, what was needed in which mood. She scooped up the grain of rice and licked it off her thumb before poking Jennie’s cheek who whined.

“You’re still as cute when you eat, God I could squish the literal life out of you until there’s a bloody explosion.”

“That raises many warnings, Y/n,” Jennie mumbled as she swallowed the food at last and watched Y/n take a bite herself while Jennie took a sip of the iced tea that they had drunk a third off. It had made Jennie more than just a bit tipsy now, the drunk slowly incoming, but she didn’t mind as she could tell that Y/n was in the same state.

“It should because if I were to use enough pressure to squeeze you, you’d die.”

Jennie widened her eyes and slowly turned her head to the side to glance at Y/n.

“Why are you saying these things?” She questioned and Y/n fed her another bite.

“I don’t know, they are just these impulsive things that leave my mouth so be careful if they become actual gestures.” Jennie shoved Y/n who was laughing yet again.

The girl always did the most random gestures of affection towards Jennie. Say these words that were somewhere between cute and concerning, but Jennie loved it all. The way she would do more than just buy her flowers, all these small things Jennie had always taken notice of. She’d go as far as to perfectly place Jennie’s slippers beside the bed so she could slip them on right away when she woke up. Now Jennie’s slippers were mostly discarded messily because she always kicked them off when getting into bed with no Y/n to fix them.

“Hold on, or we will get there next week.” Y/n stopped and let go of Jennie’s hand that was clasped with hers, the older one swaying them back and forth as she was walking in a mix of steps, skips, and whatever else she was doing with her feet, dancing her way to the next destination which was slowing them down. Y/n needed to be there on time. 

“You got me drunk.” Jennie sang out, shuffling in place with her feet.

“We’re in the same boat, Miss Kim.” The said girl giggled as she had been slowing them down by doing everything but walking. Y/n pulled Jennie to her by the jacket and she crashed into her.

“Where are you taking me?” Jennie questioned and Y/n turned around.

“Get on my back first.” She ushered and bent her knees.

“Want me to mount you like a stallion?” Y/n snorted at that.

“Who is dirty-minded now?”

“It’s a disease carried by you,” Jennie replied and grabbed hold of Y/n’s shoulders with her hands. She huffed and Y/n stumbled a step before managing to stabilise herself with her arms wrapping around Jennie’s thighs. 

“Now I’m carrying a parasite–ouch.” Y/n winced when she got gently bonked at the top of her head before she looked to her side. Jennie peeked in with a smile on her lips, her arms loosely wrapped around Y/n’s shoulders whose eyes were creasing from her smile. 

“Well? Walk, horsie.” Jennie ordered and gently nudged Y/n with her heel as if she were an actual horse.

She did start walking, making it out of the Gangnam district much quicker despite her legs needing some stabilising to not fall as her coordination was slightly off and she was carrying Jennie. The girl on her back rested her cheek against the side of her head, snuggling closer to Y/n to keep her warm as she still had her jacket on. She had already planned how to end up with the jacket at home because she knew that Y/n would walk her to the entrance of her apartment building at the end of the night. She never let Jennie walk alone at night, she’d always pick her up with the car if Jennie didn’t drive, or she’d walk with her. It didn't matter if Jennie was with friends or if Y/n was busy, she would always get there. 

“Y/n…” Jennie mumbled, looking ahead as they continued to walk, Y/n adjusted the girl on her back as they were close to the destination. She hummed, glancing down at Jennie’s fingers to see the girl tugging on them and she could tell that whatever it was it was something that made Jennie worried or uneasy. “Did you–did you try seeing anyone during these four months?” She asked, dreading the answer because she had no clue how Y/n had spent these past four months. If she had spent two whole months crying, a month trying to leave the house without bags under her eyes or if she skipped all of it.

Y/n chuckled, giving her thigh a squeeze that made Jennie whine at the ticklish sensation. “God no, I’ve been staying with my mum at this big age and working from home. I didn’t leave the house and just stayed with mum even if she continuously scolded me.” She admitted. She hadn’t even thought about another woman aside from Jennie. Y/n couldn’t tell how many hours she spent in bed crying while listening to the 'Disintegration album by The Cure'.

Jennie felt relief wash over her to know that she hadn’t been the only one. It made her feel less of a fool and made her feel better. It was confirmation that they both took it hard because they both loved each other.

“What was she scolding you for?” She curiously asked.

“Not obvious for your little pea brain?” Y/n questioned.

“Never mind then,” Jennie grumbled, rolling her eyes and Y/n stopped walking.

“Get off me now–” Y/n wiggled Jennie off of her, the girl sliding back down onto her feet, her hands letting go of Y/n’s shoulders when she was fully off. It felt cold and if they were both honest neither of them wanted to pull away. “She scolded me for leaving you and said that I would never get the family ring to propose to the next girl I would meet because you were the only right one and worthy of having it.” It made Jennie’s heart drop as Y/n grabbed her hand in hers, intertwining their fingers. It hurt, it hurt them both badly to know that the planned future was in the past.

They had both agreed to wait for marriage and a family until they were at a perfect place in their lives. There was no such thing as a perfect place in their lives when it had been perfect ever since they met. The only thing they had to wait for was to finish studying and have stable enough jobs to start a family. Nothing could have been more perfect and they had waited long enough for a perfect moment to never come now.

Jennie sighed and looked down at her feet as she walked in sync with Y/n. The realisation of actually being 28 now hit her, and if she would ever move on, she’d be too old to start that family of two kids. Unless she would rush into it all. The anxiety started to eat at her as she had never processed what being 28 meant. What did it matter if she was working her dream job if she was earning money that let her live comfortably, if she was in a stable place in her life? When she wasn’t even close to stable in her love life that was dead.

“We’re here.” Jennie looked up from the void under her that was ready to swallow her as it had started to drag her down and had invited her to suffer with endless anticipatory fear. Over the five years she had spent her birthdays with Y/n, she had managed to forget how depressing they were. How anxious they had always made her. Another year had just passed by and there were things Jennie had yet to do. She had forgotten how much she hated birthdays.

Y/n took out her phone and looked at the time it was 11:09 P.M. and Jennie gasped when Y/n tugged on her. “Quick before it’s too late.” Jennie found herself running towards the Banpodaegyo bridge whose neon lights were glowing. People were walking along the bridge, but Jennie and Y/n were running like their lives depended on it.

“I’m gonna fall,” Jennie whined as her legs were barely keeping up with Y/n’s longer ones, to add she was still under the influence and her running felt bumpy and very unsteady. They made it onto the bridge, Jennie tried to slow down, but Y/n did not let her and continued to run. “Y/n!” The girl let out in panic, making Y/n look over her shoulder at Jennie who was doing her best to keep up. The two were too occupied to care about anyone who would glance their way. Her shorter legs were messily trying to run and she was sure she'd run into something if Y/n wasn't guiding her as she felt herself leaning to one side more. 

It soon turned into giggles and Y/n finally stopped, letting Jennie crash into her when she turned around and yanked her into her. Her arms wrapped around the panting girl as they made it to the middle of the bridge. “I could have died.” She tiredly complained, heaving for breath as she was not the best athlete after drinking. Y/n chuckled and grabbed hold of Jennie’s waist, gently pulling her away and looking down at her as she looked up.

“You’re being dramatic–” Y/n said and turned Jennie to face the Han River, the kitten leaned against the railing and looked over the dark river where the moon was being illuminated. She let out a sigh, taking in the scenery while fog left her mouth from the small pants of air. 

The younger one busied herself with digging through the pocket of her loose jeans. She got nothing and put her hand into the left one and finally stumbled upon what she was looking for. “Okay, here–you have to throw the coin into the water and make a wish, it’s about to be 11:11 and it’s your birthday so whatever you wish for has to come true.” Jennie turned her head and looked at Y/n with some confusion before letting her eyes fall onto the coin in Y/n’s palm.

“Y/n, I’m not five–” She was cut off by Y/n who took Jennie’s hand and put the cold coin in her hold.

“You are never too old for wishes, I have never heard of that law.” The younger seriously said and Jennie sighed as she turned back to the river. She looked down at the coin in her palm before she clutched it in her hand while Y/n leaned beside her and waited patiently. “Make sure to close your eyes, it’s 11 now.” She reminded her and watched how Jennie closed her eyes and bit her lower lip. Despite trying to protest at first she seemed to be in deep thought as her brows creased slightly and she was focusing hard.

Jennie threw the coin and opened her eyes as she stood on her toes to follow it with her eyes, but lost sight after a second as it got swallowed by the darkness. “When will it come true?” She asked and looked to her side at Y/n who was also looking over the railing too.

“You have to wait and it will come, could be in the next hour, day, week, or years, but at some point, it will come true.” Y/n reassured her before she pulled away from the railing. This time she took out her earphones, putting one in her ear.

Jennie frowned as she now was invested in the whole ordeal and wanted to see if it really would come true. Would she have to wait years?

“Come on,” Y/n grabbed hold of Jennie’s hand and the girl was somewhat hesitant to leave now that she had made a wish. Scared it wouldn’t come true if she left.

“But it will come true, right?” She asked to make sure while taking the one earphone that was handed to her.

“It’s the best day to make a wish since it’s your birthday, so obviously yes.” Jennie took one last glance before she clung to Y/n’s arm.

‘L$D - A$AP Rocky’

The two walked in silence through the rest of the bridge, rather admiring the moment in silence than filling it with chatter while listening to the music. The peace still managed to create memories as Jennie felt nostalgic and she wasn’t sure if it was because she was walking with Y/n again or not. Her side leaned into Y/n who put her arm around her shoulders as they walked instead. By the time they made it to the end of the bridge, the next song started playing and Jennie was so familiar with them that it confused her.

‘As Long as You Follow - Fleetwood Mac’

“You won’t mind if I take you to one more place?” Y/n questioned and Jennie looked up at her with docile eyes. She blinked them as they had glossed over and there was a lump in her throat for whatever reason. God, she did not want it to end. Jennie wanted this night to last forever. If she could somehow make it last forever she would do just that. Everything to not have Y/n leave her by the end of the night. Jennie shook her head as Y/n could take her to the edge of the world and she wouldn’t mind, she could drag her across all continents and she would be content.

The song was warming Jennie's soul, the lump pushing itself in her throat and she couldn't get over it. She almost wanted to curse Y/n out for playing Fleetwood Mac as they always listened to the band together. Y/n especially loved them. It was as if Y/n wanted to make her cry by playing this song and Jennie was forcing the tears back despite a few strays falling only to what she thought was her knowledge, forgetting that Y/n noticed everything about her. Her lips quivered and her heart thudded heavily. 

Y/n hauled a cab and opened the door for Jennie who was citing all the songs.

‘Wot’s…Uh the Deal - Pink Floyd’

All of them weren’t necessarily songs Jennie listened to, but what Y/n listened to as she had a wide range of music tastes. She could still remember how excited Y/n would get to play them to Jennie on the guitar, acoustic or electric, it didn’t matter. She would sit down with Jennie and teach her how to play certain songs and help the girl get better at the string instrument. Sit right behind her and teach her each fret, tab, and chord that had to be played. She would always be so patient. 

‘10:37 - Beach House’

Her eyes gazed through the window as she held onto Y/n’s hand who had her arm around her shoulders. The night slowly passed, people still roamed the streets, and lights turned red before turning green, Jennie only watched how the time passed while the car moved through the streets of Seoul.

‘Five String Serenade - Mazzy Star’

If she couldn’t make this night last forever, she would like time the time to pass by slowly. To make it last as long as possible, or for the road to never end and sit in Y/n’s arms her whole life. That way all her worries about her uncertain future would disappear. She would disappear in these songs while loving whatever simple things came to her as long as they were from Y/n. 

‘What kind of love - Childish Gambino’

“Where are we going?” Jennie asked at last as she hadn’t heard where Y/n was taking them. She just followed. Y/n gave her a cheeky smile as she looked down at Jennie. Her hand untangled itself from Jennie’s two and she used it to brush away some of the hair that was falling in her face before letting her hand fall back down as it was resting around Jennie. The girl clung back onto it, playing with Y/n’s fingers. “You will see in a second ‘cause we’re almost there.” Jennie pouted at that and rested her head on Y/n’s shoulder.

‘Teenager - Deftones’

She started to feel like she had been thrown in a time capsule as the view of the Seoul tower was much more clear now. Jennie moved from Y/n’s hold and looked closer at where exactly they were heading. Her sight was somewhat blurry from the alcohol that she had consumed, but she knew that she wasn’t drunk enough to be this delusional.

‘Bel Air - Lana Del Rey’

“Why are we stopping by the cable cars?” She questioned and looked back at Y/n who paid the man who had driven them from the bridge to the cable cars that went up to the tower. Jennie wouldn’t be questioning it all too much if it hadn’t been for the fact that it was closed.

“I rather take a cable car than walk a dark trail at night, Jen,” Y/n said with a chuckle and opened the door before getting out. She held it open and Jennie got out with the girl’s help, bidding one last goodbye to the driver before closing the door to the car. With that she led the way, still dragging a confused Jennie with her.

“It’s closed though.” She deadpanned. It closed at 11 P.M. and it was 11:45 P.M. and Jennie’s birthday was almost over. She was starting to feel like Cinderella and soon enough she’d leave and leave everything behind her. Maybe this would be her last time with Y/n. It didn’t add up in her head and she didn’t want it. Although she felt like she wasn’t the one to make this decision, she was too scared to do it. What if she would get rejected?

“I helped a client invest and win a lot of money. He’s connected to the news Channel who owns it and since he was going to give me a bonus I asked if he could instead fix this for me.” Y/n explained and the girl frowned.

‘When the Sun Hits - Slowdive’

“Okay, and how did you time it all so well that it happened to be now that you ran into me?” Jennie questioned with some suspicion. Y/n chuckled, the kitten looking at her to see the dimples showing and she squeezed her smaller hand.

“Hey, I told you that I hoped I would run into you earlier and so with that hope, I picked this date and if I hadn’t run into you, I would have gone with one of my friends or alone.” Y/n shrugged it off as she knew that Jennie would realise soon enough as the strongest effects of the alcohol had slowly started to subside. They were approached by a guard and Y/n confirmed her identity as Jennie was digging in her blurry brain for what it exactly was.

It wasn’t long until they had made it up the stairs and the cable car was open and waiting. Y/n let Jennie get on first before getting on after the door closed. It was in queue when the next song started playing and Y/n laughed.

‘How You Remind Me - Nickelback’

“It doesn’t count if you aren’t screaming the lyrics Jennie—And this is how you remind me.”

“Y/n…”Jennie shied away like she always did.

“Come on, it’s just us—” Jennie looked unconvinced for a second as they sat in the cable car that was riding up over the dark forest, over the empty road. She giggled as Y/n pulled out the invincible guitar as the pre-chorus started. It was somewhat between childish, but also freeing as Y/n turned up the volume. “Sing or you are flying out.” Y/n threatened.

There truly never were any reasons to hold back when she was with Y/n and they always screamed songs until they lost their voices.

“It’s not like you to say sorry!”

Maybe it was because she was still under the influence, but it could be Y/n’s influence or the alcohol. She found herself singing the whole song with Y/n, knowing every word of it while sharing the invincible microphone with Y/n. The second Y/n laid her eyes on Jennie the girl had that big gummy smile that she adored so much. It was a smile she always wanted to be the cause of and she knew that it wouldn’t be possible if they were away. Unless Jennie still smiled this big whenever she looked back at the memories they had made together.

It was that feeling of being back in college, of being back together with Y/n. Screaming songs, wandering nights, getting lost in what love was for them. It was overwhelmingly good and it was sentimental whenever she looked back at those times. They had never been lost as she knew that Y/n let her live it all over and over again, but that was when they were together. Love was something only Y/n could make her feel on this type of level. The one that healed all the time, surely forgetting all the suffering she had done the past four months. 

“All we need to do now is start a band together,” she found herself giggling at Y/n’s words, burying her face in her shoulder as they took out the earphones. She wrapped her arm around Jennie, rubbing her back and unable to even try to let the smile fall. Compared to the Jennie she first cornered in the bathroom, it was like seeing the Jennie she left, being able to bring her right back to life. The Jennie she never should have left even if they both agreed that it would be better. At times there is no such thing as the right thing to do, but possibly people could forgive the mistake when all she had in mind was the best for the girl.

Jennie heaved a sigh and suddenly, as if lightning struck her and woke her up, she realised what it was. Her lips parted, but before she could say anything they had reached the top and their fingers intertwined as they walked out. With a man from staff, they were led to the tower and then to the elevator.

Y/n looked down at Jennie, she kind of figured that the woman had figured it out by now. She looked almost devastated as her gaze was on the floor.

She felt like crying, she wanted to hate Y/n for doing something like this to her, but she couldn’t. This was probably the best gift she could have received, but the biggest problem was that she didn’t have Y/n. They walked out of the elevator, it was silent with just the two of them and Jennie let go of Y/n’s hand as she walked over to the windows. The whole thing was overwhelming as she was keeping her tears at bay and bit her lower lip, taking in a shaky breath as she looked over the view of Seoul at night in the tower that was closed to everyone but them…again.

Y/n put her hands in her pockets to warm them and stood just a step behind Jennie, being able to catch the woman’s reflection in the window. She had realised and Y/n had been expecting Jennie to get emotional because she was always a soft and emotional kitten.

“Those were all the songs we listened to that night in the exact order.” Jennie pointed out as she realised why the songs brought her so much nostalgia and why the order of them rang so many bells in her head. She wouldn’t have noticed otherwise, but the order was just right and now they had screamed the lyrics in that cable car once again while reaching the top. It all came rushing to Jennie.

“I know,” the taller girl simply replied, but she had hoped the whole night that Jennie would realise.

Now it made sense why they walked past so many convenience stores before they at last walked into that specific one.

“But you said that you put on shuffle with over 5k songs in your liked ones,” Jennie mumbled and lifted her head to catch Y/n’s reflection. The view was mesmerising, but what Y/n had done, what she had given her as a birthday present was much more meaningful and mesmerising than the view. It made Jennie turn around to look at her, a pout resting on her lips as her cheeks were stained with a few tear streaks.

“I made sure to put them all in a playlist until we stopped listening, which was when we left the cable car back in 2018, January 16th when we first met and I stole you from a club.”

Jennie jutted out her lower lip as Y/n had always been thoughtful, had always done small gestures that meant the world to her, and had been loving and caring. She hated that she had to be all those things when they weren’t together. It wasn’t fair. “Why?” Her voice cracked and her nose pricked before the tears won and spilled over her eyes.

Y/n gave her a soft and gentle smile, taking her hands out of her pockets. Her hands came up to Jennie’s face as she cupped her cheeks which were cold and soft in her hold, wet with tears that were warm on her cold skin that was tinted a light pink like her nose. She leaned into her hold with a sniffle, the ice on her skin melting at how good it felt to be in the warmth that was home.

“I kind of figured out that night that I would marry you and you seemed to be in bliss because of the night—so I thought that if I were to mess up big along the way I could replay the night for you and make it good again by doing exactly what I did the first time we met and then got together shortly after.” The girl admitted. She had regretted every moment away from Jennie because what she thought was right truly wasn’t. Her last hope was to show Jennie what they were together and hope that even if she suggested it, Jennie would want her right back. It was a stupid mistake, but everyone made them. Y/n just hoped that it wasn’t too late to fix what was broken.

She at least didn't want Jennie to hate her, hoping all she could leave were good memories after her. 

Nothing was broken though. They were only broken away from each other, but it was like kintsugi the second they were right by each other again.

“I regret even suggesting it but I was thinking of you—” Jennie didn’t want to hear it, she didn’t blame Y/n. She had seen it from Y/n’s point of view and she knew how she always put Jennie first.

“I know that you were. I think we needed to be away from each other to truly realise how much we need one another to never take the other for granted or do anything to lose each other. To remember how much good we brought each other.” Jennie mumbled and Y/n huffed in relief through her nose as Jennie had always been understanding of her thinking and how she didn’t mean to make things more complicated than needed. It was enough for Jennie to forget the bad and only remember how much good they had brought, how much that had changed their lives in only good ways and she would forever cherish that.

She let go of Jennie and pulled her in for a hug, the shorter girl wrapped her arms around Y/n’s waist. She shed her last tears into her shoulder while Y/n soothed her, kissing the side of her head, and rubbing her back while holding her firmly. Jennie couldn’t tell what she was crying over anymore, but the relief made it impossible not to cry. She was still trying to comprehend how they after six years did everything they did the first time they met on Jennie’s birthday.

How Y/n somehow convinced Jennie to leave the club with her (she forgot safety the second she saw the girl).

She had dragged Jennie to that exact convenience store where they ate the same things, and Y/n mixed mango iced tea with tequila that they shared.

When they left and got to the bridge where Jennie made the wish and threw a coin in. A wish that came true because her drunk self wished for Y/n to ask her out despite meeting just an hour prior. 

How they listened to music after (those exact tracks) and took a cab.

The only difference was that Y/n had managed to lie their way into letting them take the cable car and be in the tower for just a few minutes.

After that, Y/n walked Jennie to her college dorm and got her number before they parted ways.

They had taken a cab back to the place they used to share where Jennie stayed alone now. Y/n took the elevator up with Jennie who was now opening the door and as she did– “My baby boy.” Y/n cooed as Kuma ran out barking and jumping at her legs as she hadn’t seen him in four whole months. She picked him up, moving her face away as he tried to lick at her.

“I feel bad for even saying this, but he stayed every day whining by the door and waiting for you,” Jennie admitted as she stood in the door frame, removing her sneakers and pushing them aside. She looked at Y/n who was crouched on the floor with the dog going crazy in her arms. The little puppy they had gotten together because they had still been young and wanted some kind of family together. 

“I am so sorry, Kuma.” She apologised, feeling almost just as bad for leaving him as she did with Jennie.

Jennie bit her lower lip, watching the two as Y/n put him down, but he started to run around her and barked some more. Kuma wasn’t letting Y/n go, just like Jennie didn’t want to let go. “You could come in, Y/n…” She suggested and Y/n looked from the floor, a glint in her eyes as they trailed from Jennie’s legs, over her whole body before they got to her eyes.

“Nightcap?”

“Yes, just get inside.” Y/n chuckled and picked up the dog before stepping inside the familiar apartment. It was a home, it used to be at least, but what made it a home was Jennie. She slid off her shoes as Jennie walked further inside. Her feet led her to the living room that still looked the same and the other woman wasn’t there yet as she trailed to another part of the apartment. She slumped down onto the couch and put Kuma in her lap.

Her eyes landed on the marble coffee table and she leaned closer while petting the dog. She chuckled at the thought that came to her mind. “Jennie?” She called for the woman, and the sound of her light footsteps came from behind as she left the kitchen. She hummed and Y/n turned to her, taking the whiskey on the rocks that Jennie handed her. “Did you manifest this?” She questioned and looked back down at the Polaroid photo of her right by the candles.

Jennie groaned at that as she saw how it looked. “No! I did not. I like candles and it just happened that I left it there before leaving the apartment.” She explained in her defence. The photo had been behind her phone case for all those months until she left today with the plan to hook up with someone. God forbid one of her friends would see her still carrying that picture after she purposely made Y/n look like she was a jerk behind closed doors—she wasn’t. Now it was lying by the candles and looked like she had been sitting and manifesting all of this.

“So, I’m the only one?” Y/n questioned as she took out her phone and placed it upside down on the coffee table. A polaroid of Jennie in the case and she took a sip of the cold hard liquor while glancing at Jennie who walked around to sit on the couch. The jacket she got to borrow was discarded as she left it in the kitchen just to make sure that Y/n would forget it.

She rolled her eyes and pulled her knees up to her chest before taking a sip of the golden brown liquid that hit her taste buds. It made her somewhat wince as she was always between liking and hating whiskey depending on the brand. “First of all, I took it out today, second, I'm not obliged to carry it around,” Y/n gave her a look as she knew that Jennie was trying to get on her nerves. She loved playing those little games where Y/n would piss her off and she’d do it back. Part of why she told her friends things that weren’t true.

Jennie loved being petty like that and was getting back at Y/n right now.

“So, you’re not going to put it back?” She questioned, taking sips from the crystal whiskey glass, the ice clanked around in their glasses while they looked at each other.

“Nope, it would get in the way, wouldn’t it?” Y/n helped Kuma down on the floor before she reached back for her phone. Jennie watched the girl with intensity and felt something boil in her when she saw Y/n open her case. “What’re you doing?” She seriously asked. Through the months just the thoughts of Y/n seeing someone else made Jennie kick and scream in emotions that were green and red. She was ready to pay people to stay away from her and hire people to pull every person Y/n would try to be with apart. 

“Your picture will get in the way.” She shrugged, quickly taking yet another sip of the whiskey and putting the glass down. It let her use both her hands and Jennie found herself placing her glass down too. It was boiling inside Jennie and she wanted to strangle Y/n for even uttering those words.

“No, you don’t get to do that.” Her tone went into that angry one that Y/n knew. Not angry even, emotions she only felt when it came to Y/n who she couldn’t stand thinking about being with anyone but her. She would be jealous, she’d die in jealousy, she lost it when she saw Y/n being approached by women who had clear intentions of flirting–she knew that Y/n at times gave in to the flirting just to see Jennie jealous and angry.

“I think I do if I want to find someone to hook up with–” Jennie clenched her jaw and moved onto her knees as she faced Y/n. She tried to reach for her phone but the girl held it away from her, making Jennie crawl to get closer and try to reach for it. “Weren’t those your intentions tonight when you went out and took out my picture? Oh, I clearly remember what Lisa said in that bathroom.”

“Stop that.” Jennie snapped as Y/n was reaching to remove the polaroid. It made Jennie grab hold of her arm with both hands and tackle it down onto the couch.

“You little bitch.” Y/n grumbled as Jennie snatched the phone out of her hold, lying across her lap. She tried to reach for it with her right hand since Jennie was lying with her upper body on her left one. The kitten bit Y/n’s hand when she tried to take it, busy adjusting the picture so it would be back in place. She hissed and pulled away to see a bite mark on her skin right under the knuckle of her thumb.

“Hey!” Y/n exclaimed.

“Hey.” Jennie mocked and tried to open Y/n’s phone only for her face ID to not work. She gasped as her face ID had been removed, she tried the pin, but it wasn’t working either.

“Jennie.”

“Jennie.”

“Give me my phone before you block it.”

“Give me my phone before you block it. Who do you have on here that you changed your PIN and removed my face ID?” Jennie continued to push Y/n’s buttons who had been pushing hers. That brattiness came right out as she was ready to give her attitude because she couldn’t phantom that Y/n had done these things. Furiously, she continued to guess the pin with all the important dates and numbers Y/n liked.

“I told you something.” Y/n tried to reach for it again while trying to wiggle out her other hand that Jennie had in a death grip. It only got smacked away.

“I told you something. How ‘bout you do something about it?” Jennie pushed and looked over her shoulder with a frown to ask about the pincode. “What’s–Ahh, Y/n.” She whined when the palm collided against her ass making her squirm at the pain. Jennie had almost forgotten about how horny she had been until that pain shot to her clit instead. She felt somewhat embarrassed and her head fell as she kicked her feet with another whine. It was so unexpected that she had no clue how to react or feel. 

“Stop being a pain in the ass.”

It went silent and Y/n waited for what Jennie would say or do. That smack just came naturally and she hadn’t controlled it. Whether Jennie was pissed or not, that spanking wasn’t something she could take responsibility for when Jennie worked her nerves so well.

“Stop being a pain in the ass.” She mocked once again, imitating Y/n who groaned. The little giggle that came from Jennie who lifted her head didn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you laughing?”

“Are you laughing?” Jennie knew exactly how much Y/n hated it when she would imitate her without an end. The thoughts made her lift her ass slightly, wriggling in Y/n’s lap as she pushed it out. There was a tension between her legs and she wanted it gone.

“You’re so annoying.”

“You’re so annoying. Cry about it, Y/n.” She hissed at the girl. It was soon followed by something that was between a groan and a moan as Y/n spanked her ass once more which made Jennie raise her hips and writhe into the couch cushion. That sensation made her cunt throb and slowly start leaking as she clenched her thighs for some relief. It was hard to control as her ass purposely tried to invite Y/n for more as it was turning her on.

“Tell me what it is, Jennie. Why do you need this?” Y/n questioned and looked at Jennie who was still clutching the phone. She huffed and lifted her head, looking over her shoulder and at Y/n. A little smile on her lips, one that was mischievous.

“I did some things you wouldn’t be happy about–been a very bad girl.”

Y/n gripped at the underside of her thigh just under her ass, squeezing it and making Jennie squirm at how ticklish it was on her sensitive thighs.

“You have?” Jennie bit her lower lip and nodded her head.

“What did you do?”

Jennie purposely lifted her hips and arched her back, being on her knees with her hands stretched out in front of her, chest pressing into the couch. She let go of the phone, Y/n’s eyes on the ass that was in the air and she moved her hand up to it. The kitten jutted her lower lip out in feigned despair. “I’ve been out the whole night looking for someone who would fuck my needy little pussy because the toys haven’t been able to satisfy me…” She looked even sadder now as if she's been having the hardest time of her life because of these things and what she said after seemed to be even more devastating for her. “There hasn’t been any cum in me for so long, no one to fill me, breed me, no cum for me to clean up–I’ve been feeling so useless and empty.” She mumbled, with tears brimming in her eyes.

“So, it’s not my fault for looking for someone to do it,” Jennie added in her defence. The heat shot right to her clit again, her ass burned in the best way possible as she could only moan when Y/n spanked her again.

“Y/n, it’s not fair!” She cried out despite enjoying it. The latter was growing hard, thinking about Jennie’s snug and pink pussy that she’s missed being inside of. The one she missed abusing, filling with cum, if not her other holes. Jennie loved it all, she especially loved cleaning up the cum that leaked out of her after.

“How is it not fair? I’m not the one who's been walking around like I’m in heat and looking for strangers to fuck me.” Her hand ran over Jennie’s inner thighs before she made it to the girl’s pussy which was covered by the black cargo pants. It was enough to make Jennie whine and try to rub her throbbing cunt against the hand that cupped her heat. Y/n’s other hand stroked along Jennie’s bare spine which was warm and arched to show off her ridges.

“It’s my birthday.” Jennie slyly pointed out.

“I’m supposed to give in because of that? Give you a free pass?” Y/n asked, gently rubbing Jennie’s clothed cunt. The girl desperately tried to push her hips more into the hand that removed pressure every time she tried. It was keeping her on the edge as she pathetically continued to try and hump at Y/n's hand.

“Yes. Please creampie my pink and tight little pussy and make me a mommy tonight.” The erection was now straining against Y/n’s jeans as the offer was one she did not want to pass on despite it giving Jennie a free pass. Her brain cells reasoned with each other, agreeing on it being Jennie’s birthday even if it was past 12, but it didn’t count until they went to sleep and woke up. Her eyes gazed into Y/n’s, practically daring her to do it.

“Get up,” never in her life had Y/n seen Jennie get up so fast. The girl always liked to take her time simply because she wanted to or because she wanted to annoy Y/n. The giggly and horny Jennie ran towards the bedroom with Y/n taking long strides right after her.

The bedroom was also the same with Jennie on the bed unzipping her pants. “Hey, hey, slow down,” Y/n complained and the feline pouted when her hands were pushed away from the fly of her cargo pants.

“I’m so horny though.”

“I can tell that much,” Y/n commented with her hands pulling Jennie up to sit. Her arms wrapped around Y/n’s shoulders and she pulled her down, hands gripped at her waist and she got her breath taken away. Jennie melted and healed when she finally had Y/n’s lips against hers again. She didn’t want to wait when she tilted her head and opened her mouth for the tongue to push against her. It tasted of whiskey, it was just as intoxicating and was washing over her body, injecting itself deep within her veins.

One person could only satisfy the other.

Jennie couldn’t even satisfy herself when she was horny. Y/n knew just how to eat her out, stuff her with cock, fuck her, make her orgasm and beg for more.

She swallowed Y/n’s tongue, sucking on it and the girl groaned when Jennie’s hand came down from her shoulder and rubbed at her cock through the pants. It was making Jennie’s clit throb painfully, just feeling Y/n’s cock was making her try to clench her thighs that Y/n stood between. Both her hands went to the bulge, rubbing at the outline while undoing the zipper with her other while Y/n threaded her fingers through Jennie’s hair.

“Please, please–” Y/n cut Jennie off who pulled away and was about to plead for her to start fucking her.

“I will, but you have to show off for me first.” She pried Jennie’s hands away from the hem of her jeans and pulled her up onto her feet. “I know it’s your birthday, but you said yourself that you were a bad girl, so this is the least you can do.” Y/n ushered and smiled at Jennie as the girl squinted her eyes.

The girl was determined to show Y/n exactly what she walked out from. Her eyes were laced with seductiveness even if the girl was stalling her orgasm. The girl reached into the pocket of her pants and took out her phone, Y/n smiled bigger and leaned back against her palms as the smart home speakers started to play Champagne by The Weeknd . Jennie turned around and tossed her phone onto the dresser.

Her eyes watched Jennie’s every move and her fingers grabbed hold of the small piece that was tied at her side to hold the shirt against her body. She pulled it, slowly, Y/n’s eyes stuck on the slim back and just watching her was enough to make Y/n’s chest heave even more. Jennie undid it, her hands running over her body, tugging up the open-back shirt with her before letting go as it fell back down. Y/n waited in anticipation, almost regretting it as she couldn’t wait for Jennie to remove the shirt and turn so she could see her chest.

Her body gently moved to the music, her fingers ran over her arm and over to the one strap before she gently tugged it down. The other hand ran under her shirt towards the other strap. She made sure to let out a light hum to let Y/n know that she ran over her breast before she reached the strap. Jennie slid them down her shoulders, the shirt fell with a soft thud to the floor.

She had yet to turn around though.

Instead, she finished undoing her pants and proceeded to bend over with her fingers hooked around the hem. It couldn’t have gone slower, the way she slowly started to pull them down her ass, revealing more and more of the flesh and lacy material of her black cheeky underwear. They went up her ass as she got the pants under her cheeks. Her ass was plump and pushed right out with her puffy pussy, the woman’s back arched and her eyes coming to peek over her shoulder. Her feline eyes were clouded by lust and she looked back in front of her as Y/n looked hypnotised.

She pulled them further down, revealing her creamy thighs inch by inch while making sure to show off how agile she was by slowly bending herself in half. It wasn’t until they were resting by her calves that Jennie started to get down on her knees to the music. The girl was holding back from dragging Jennie to bed now. She got on her knees, her back straight and showing off her perfect posture as she slid into a side-sitting position with her legs on one side (left), the pants fully discarded now. Her hand came over behind her and dragged her hair to one side of her shoulder, looking to the side while doing so. The movements were soft.

She moved her legs further, taking them in front of her and spreading them open. Her palms planted behind her and slowly slid against the rug, reclining herself back. It was hypnotising, her chest at last coming into view, more and more until she was lying on her back. Jennie loved showing off her body, especially to Y/n and no one else. Her body was just for Y/n and whether it was her birthday or not, a striptease was just as satisfying to her as it was to Y/n. (She was also aware that she had to pay for what she did when trying to look for someone else.)

She couldn’t begin to explain how much her clit started to throb when she caught the look on Y/n’s face. The wetness was gushing as she loved being admired by Y/n. It was almost enough to get off for Jennie. Her hand came between her legs, her hips moved in a fluid wave like motion when she whined them into the fingers that brushed over the slick material, fingers threading into the rug as her eyes closed. She continued to run her hand up her body, fingers feather-likely running over her skin which made her chest heave and body move. A soft moan slipped past her lips when she brushed over her nipple until she reached her throat.

Jennie was quick and agile in the way she smoothly turned from her back and onto her stomach. Her eyes were almost predatory the way she looked up at Y/n while slowly pushing herself up, ass coming up first with hands stretched out in front of her until she pushed herself forward and was standing on all fours.

Slowly she crawled the small distance like a cat over to Y/n, her hips moving, her back still arched. Jennie reached the girl and got on her knees while looking at her through her lashes, her hands grabbed hold of Y/n’s knees, pulling her legs apart to get between them. In one smooth motion, like waves, she slid up, getting on her feet and coming face to face with Y/n, her hands holding onto Y/n’s shoulders.

“Am I excused for being bad?” Jennie questioned, her chest heaving, as if she ran a marathon, but the arousal was just getting overwhelming. She could feel how sticky it was between her legs, everything spilling and smearing on her inner thighs. The underwear piece was ruined. Y/n licked her lips and grabbed her hips, looking down at Jennie’s chest, her nipples perky, her breasts plump.

“More than excused—you deserve to not only get your pussy stuffed but also eaten.” There was that vocal fry in Y/n’s voice that Jennie knew so well. It meant that she would get her pussy messily devoured. She squealed when Y/n got up and put Jennie on the bed, she pushed her back and leaned down. Fingers threaded into her hair when she attached her lips to Jennie’s chest first.

It was eliciting small whines and gasps, the tongue swirling her nipple, teeth gently tugging, the other being roughly groped the way she liked it. Y/n wrapped her mouth around as much soft flesh as possible and sucked before licking. Jennie’s hips were pathetically bucking at the heat that was bubbling in her stomach because of it. “Y/n!” She cried out at the way her nipple was pinched between Y/n’s fingers, the girl tugged on the bud after and started to kiss down to Jennie’s cleavage.

“Please, I promise, I taste so good,” Jennie begged as Y/n was kissing down her stomach. The kitten squirmed when her nipple got flicked, the bud more swollen and red now as Y/n had abused the sensitive nub that was stiff.

“Have you been cleaning up your messes lately?” Y/n asked with a smirk, glancing up at Jennie who had her head thrown back with her back arching, hips desperately pushing into Y/n. She whined, not wanting to answer the embarrassing question as she had been feral trying to fuck herself right only to make a mess but not orgasm hard enough. This time she cried, slightly kicking her feet when Y/n twisted the same nipple again.

“Answer, Jen.”

“I lick my fingers clean because they get so messy.” She admitted in a whine, her cheeks even more flushed as it was now just flowing out of her. Jennie always got so wet, and someone had to clean it after. Y/n was well aware of how Jennie would always leak with juices. The videos she’d send of playing with her pink pussy when Y/n wasn’t there to eat her out, making sure to show how she would lick up the sticky mess of her fingers after getting as much as possible on them. She loved sucking Y/n’s cock, especially to have cum shoot into her mouth that she’d swallow.

“You want me to taste you?” Y/n continued to tease as she was on her knees and Jennie pushed herself up. A look of desperation on her face, tears welling in her eyes as it was hurting now. “Yes.” She watched Y/n who hooked her fingers around her underwear and she started to tug them down. They clung to her wet cunt, pulling a sticky mess with them as Y/n peeled them off and dropped the ruined material on the floor.

“All for you.” Jennie surely invited the girl who was on her knees in front of her by spreading her legs, her hand coming in between her legs. She bit her lower lip as Y/n watched her use her fingers to spread her glistening and puffy folds. Her hole was clenching in greediness as her arousal was slowly leaking out of it, running down her ass and onto the sheets. She ran them over to her clit, showing the swollen bud by pulling back the hood. Y/n smiled and gently removed Jennie’s fingers as she had shown off her cunt enough.

The girl waiting, finally in the only suitable outfit on a day like this, in her birthday suit.

“I will make sure to take it all.” Y/n reassured her and Jennie’s hand gripped onto her hair while Y/n moved Jennie’s leg to wrap it around her shoulder. The girl groaned as Jennie forcefully pulled on her hair and shoved her face fully into her cunt. She gasped, squirming and grinding her hips into Y/n’s face when she licked right up along her slit, tongue spreading her lips. The taste washed over Y/n’s tongue, it was addicting and she moved back down, her tongue flat against the heat as she licked up from the sopping hole, bringing it all up to her clit.

Jennie’s lips stayed apart, breaths desperate and the sounds falling from between them as she couldn’t control it neither could she control the squirming into Y/n’s face. “Fuck, Y/n–more, I want more,” she whined, her eyes falling closed and her back hit the mattress as she couldn’t hold herself up.

Y/n sucked onto her outer lips, sucking them in and teasing with her tongue, dipping down and nudging the grasping hole with her tongue, swirling it which made Jennie gasp and writhe for more. However, she would feel bad if she teased Jennie for too long as the girl had been all ready since they entered the bedroom. Her hand gripped Jennie’s hip to ground them and control their whining as they weren’t controlled by the nymphomaniac that Jennie was.

“Oh God, I’ve missed you so much, the way you fuck me.” Jennie cried out when lips wrapped around her clit, the tongue firmly flicking at it at a perfect angle. Y/n ran her other hand over to Jennie’s hole, her one finger teasing around the hole while she continued to flick at her clit. Her tongue moved quickly, harshly flicking back and forth as it always made Jennie’s thighs quiver, trying to close around her head and leave the girl unsure of what to grip onto or how to act.

Her juices were smearing over her chin, running down and creating a mess and Y/n couldn’t help but dip down for more. The pleasure didn’t stop for Jennie who gyrated her hips into Y/n’s nose while the girl lapped at her hole, gathering the stickiness on her tongue before bringing it back up. She swirled around her clit before she wrapped her lips around it and suckled hard enough for Jennie to moan louder and arch her back off of the mattress. The birthday girl had always been vocal and sensitive to all touch when it came to Y/n. She was quite sure it was because of how many chemicals her body released around her, the oxytocin overflowing.

With ease, Y/n pushed two fingers into Jennie who sucked them in right away. Her walls were warm and throbbing, continuously clenching around the two slender fingers that started to push into her. “So close, I want it,” Jennie mumbled, a few coherent words coming from her now and then as she was lost in the firm and slick muscle that worked her swollen and pulsating clit while fingers pressed against her g-spot. She could feel it coming, the way her stomach started to drop and heat up.

“How bad do you want it?” Y/n gruffly questioned by pulling away for a split second before going right back.

“So bad, I will cry if I don’t get it–play with my pussy until it hurts. All yours.” The words flew out of her blabbering mouth, gasping and falling out of breath. She had been longing for more than Y/n and her love, but this type of love too.

“I love it, you fuck me so good with your tongue. Oh God–” Her chest heaved, her fingers tangling themselves in Y/n’s hair who groaned at the pain while eating at Jennie’s cunt. The mess ran down her chin, down Jennie’s ass, staining the sheets. The sounds were lewd, Jennie moaning, gasping, and whining, and the way Y/n was eating her pussy was making the wet sounds bounce off the walls in the room from the licking and sucking. The younger let out her moans and groans at how much she enjoyed having Jennie squirm while eating her out.

Her thighs shook while clenching around Y/n, her voice strained, her body spasming as she arched off the bed with her hips bucking into Y/n. Jennie lost control of her voice, cries flying out as everything disappeared, her ears ringing and her vision dying out. Her hand flew to her breast, grabbing hold of it as she had no clue where else to grasp. Her walls clasped around Y/n’s fingers, thudding around them as the orgasm crashed through her. It went on for a good few seconds as Y/n didn’t stop and continued to flick at her bud.

It wasn’t until Jennie was panting for breath and instead of pulling her into her pussy she was pulling her away that Y/n stopped. She slowed down, gently cleaning up the mess that Jennie’s cunt was, the girl wriggling under her from the kittenish licks lapping up the juices. Her body relaxed at last, slumping into the mattress and closing her eyes, her pussy palpitating from aftershocks.

“No…” She whined, convulsing and closing her legs with her hands flying between them as Y/n was no longer between them. A heat ran over her at the painful slap that landed against her swollen pussy, the sound wet and harsh.

“Don’t you want my cock too?” Y/n questioned and the girl opened her eyes, looking at Y/n who was using her black sweatshirt to wipe at her chin and mouth. It made her pussy clench at how it was missing Y/n.

“I do.” She dragged out and pulled herself up, her hands grasping at Y/n’s sweatshirt and pulling it up. The latter helped her by fully pulling it over her head and discarding it to the floor with kittenish hands pawing at her slim stomach before they dropped to her pants. Although Jennie didn’t pull them down, she instead moved onto her knees. “Hurry up, my pussy is waiting for your cum, baby.” She purred out while turning around and getting on all fours, showing off her ass and dripping pussy while looking over her shoulder at Y/n. Her ass pushed out for Y/n as she arched her back to further the invite.

“You’re so bad.” Y/n groaned and fully undid her pants, letting them pool around her ankles before she kicked them to the side with her boxers. Jennie bit her lower lip, eyeing the thick and long member, the tip bulbous and red, leaking with precum, the long vein dragged on the underside and Y/n’s slim and veiny hand came over to it. She stroked herself, her other hand caressing the plump outline of Jennie’s ass who only pushed more into her.

“Such a bad girl after not getting my attitude fucked out of me…I get so mean when I don’t have your cum stuffing my pussy.” Jennie agreed, drawing her words out while lowering herself until her chest pressed against the mattress.

“I need–” Jennie stopped Y/n who was about to get to the bedside drawer where she knew condoms were. They always hit it raw, but she wasn’t sure if Jennie had continued with her birth control after four months of being alone.

“No condom,” it wasn’t an ask, but more so a demand. Y/n didn’t mind condoms while Jennie hated them.

“You’re on birth control,” Y/n concluded and went right back to place, guiding her tip between Jennie’s folds who let her head drop at the feeling that sent shivers through her spine.

She bit her lower lip, forcing the smile to not get too big as she couldn’t wait longer as she confirmed Y/n’s conclusion. “Yes.” A sigh followed when the stretch came, Y/n’s tip pushing inside her, spreading her open, splitting her folds and disappearing into her sopping and snug heat. It was squeezing her cock as a moan slipped from her mouth. The warmth of Jennie was so familiar, it was leaving her cock to throb the further she slipped inside the confines of her pink cunt.

The brunette whined, her insides twisting at how good it felt, the cock too big for her smaller body as it was always a tight fit and a big stretch for her to take the girl behind her. Y/n stopped as her pelvis met Jennie’s ass, filling her to the hilt with her hands gripping Jennie’s hips. Her lips parted at the feeling as she stalled any movement and got lost for a second in just the feeling of having Jennie around her.

However, Jennie wasn’t nearly as patient. “Are you going to fuck me or act like a virgin who wet their dick for the first time?” It brought Y/n right out of her drowning thoughts at the rude tone of Jennie who sounded annoyed.

“What?” She breathed out.

“Fuck me or I will find someone else to do it.” Jennie loved digging her own grave. At least she got buried with her back being blown.

“Who else will fuck you this good?” Y/n didn’t wait for an answer as she pulled out almost fully before Jennie was sent flying forward when she slammed her hips back against hers. It drew gasps and moans from Jennie as Y/n proceeded with the deep and hard thrusts. The thick cock dragged along her tight walls, and the wet and squelching noises got louder as Jennie's pussy was a mess. Y/n’s pelvis slapped against Jennie’s ass and started to fill in with moans, groans, whimpers, and gasps. All occupying the room.

Jennie bunched up the sheets in her fists, her face buried in them. She could feel the curved tip abusing her g-spot as it continuously dragged along the soft and spongy spot in her. The cock was hitting deep in her, filling her and hitting the right spots that she wasn’t even able to hit when fucking herself with all kinds of toys.

Her moans were erotic, they fueled Y/n on who was going carnal as Jennie’s pussy, body, voice, and everything else always had that effect. The brunette's hips started to meet Y/n’s thrust, clenching and helping her drag her cock in her pussy.

“Fuck, your cock is so big, it hurts so good.” Jennie moaned as the pain always mixed with the pleasure.

Y/n huffed, biting her lower lip as she moved one hand and landed its palm against Jennie’s ass since the girl was pushing it out for her so much. It was followed by a mewl from the birthday girl.

“Are you going to take all my cum?” Y/n groaned out, the answer taking a second too long and earning Jennie’s bright red ass cheek another spank. The heat only shot right to her clit and she couldn’t feel embarrassed about it as she loved every second of it. “Everything, I’m going to keep it all inside and be a mommy,” Jennie whined, the words only made her clench more as her own words fueled her.

“You look so good with cock in you, your slutty pussy takes it so well.” Y/n complimented, her eyes falling on where her hard cock was disappearing. The wetness was running down Jennie’s thighs, and her pink folds spread because of the cock that was drilling into her cunt which was growing sore. She was sucking Y/n in, doing everything to milk her and get her cum as she forgot about wanting to orgasm. All she wanted was to be creampied and keep it all inside for as long as possible because it made her feel full.

“Only you can play with it so well, fuck it until it hurts–your cocksleeve, for you to warm in and empty into.”

“You love being used.” Y/n threw her head back, her fingers digging into the flesh of Jennie’s ass and hips. The thrusts were hard, the bed squeaking with every stroke inside the snug sleeve that Jennie was for her cock. The smaller girl moved with each thrust that was throwing her forward, making her grip harder to stay in place. 

“Yes, yes, yes.” Jennie spewed out, the tension in her stomach started to grow and Y/n could feel how much tighter her walls started to get around her. Her hand dropped from Jennie’s ass and went right under her, pushing onto her lower belly, able to feel herself bulge the small brunette's stomach. It was making Jennie dizzy, the pressure grew and she was getting sent right back into floating.

“I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come so hard around your cock, Y/n.” Jennie cried out, writhing in the sheets as she pulled on them with her hands. Her jaw fell slack, the moans going up in pitch and the heat flashed over her, the cries slowly coming in breathless as the control was lost and she couldn’t tell what was going on.

Y/n continued to pound her, the tension slowly easing from Jennie, although her mind remained clouded. Her body was warm and covered in a sheet of sweat. “I’m so close.” Y/n groaned, her tip twitching.

Jennie could feel the cock grow harder in her. “Fuck, breed my cunt, Y/n–shoot it into my womb.” She intentionally clenched her walls and Y/n’s hips stuttered, Jennie, pushing her ass flush against her to get it all shot deep in her. It filled her even more, Y/n and Jennie both moaning. Rope after rope of thick and creamy cum painted her walls white, making her hum at how good it felt to be filled so well again.

“So good,” Y/n mumbled, her body collapsing onto Jennie’s who slumped down on her stomach. Her chest heaved as she peppered kisses along Jennie’s warm shoulder. The kitten hid her face in the sheets, the cock growing limp in her throbbing cunt as she tried to get back on a normal breathing pattern.

“Happy birthday, Jennie.” She let out a breathless chuckle and Y/n slowly pushed herself up.

“It’s not my birthday anymore.” The brunette mumbled, turning onto her back and raising her knees, trying her best to keep the cum within her walls. Her soft eyes fell onto Y/n, dreading it as she was scared that she would leave. The night was over, and so was her birthday.

“It’s the 16th until you go to sleep.” Y/n reminded her and she smiled, biting her lower lip while Y/n reached for her boxers, pulling them back on.

“Y/n…” The latter looked up at Jennie who was already looking at her. She looked like she was on the verge of tears. “Please don’t leave.” She mumbled.

“Jennie–” She cut Y/n off right away.

“Please, even if it’s just for the night.” She begged and Y/n chuckled

“Why on earth would I leave?” She questioned, baffled that Jennie thought she would just leave her, especially after having sex. Maybe they said it during sex, but she would never just use Jennie and leave her behind after.

Jennie felt a weight fall off of her, there was a lightness in her chest. She at times hated how sensitive she was as her lower lip jutted out and her breathing picked up to hold her tears back. Y/n heaved a sigh and got on the bed, with ease she pulled Jennie’s limp body with her as she kicked the duvet down before pulling it over them. The girl hugged around Y/n’s slim waist, burying her face in her shoulder as she couldn’t help but cry.

“Will you leave tomorrow?” She asked through her tears. The younger clicked her tongue and ran her fingers through Jennie’s hair. The both of them drowned in the warmth they shared. 

“Do you want me to?” She had a good feeling that Jennie did not want her to leave. She wouldn’t be crying otherwise. Y/n was right as Jennie shook her head, tightening her grip around her to make sure that she would stay. It made her pull her small body closer to her and she kissed the top of her head.

“If you want…” Y/n trailed off and Jennie lifted her head, her eyes exhausted and filled with tears. Y/n wiped her cheeks with the pad of her palm before she leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I could stay forever.” She suggested and Jennie closed the little gap between them. This time the kiss was soft, neither of them wanting it to rush into anything else than the adoration and love they still and always would have for each other.

“Yes, please.” She mumbled and Y/n smiled against her lips, pecking them.

“I love you, Jennie.” To hear those words again healed all those empty and torn parts in her. They were eager to say them again and wanted to say them a million times more to make up for all the four months that they hadn't said them.

“I love you, Y/n…” She cleared her throat and looked down a little guiltily and Y/n hummed confused. Jennie mumbled something under her breath, her eyes avoiding Y/n’s as she lay in her arms.

“You have to stop mumbling.” Y/n seriously said as the guilty look on Jennie’s face was starting to worry her. She sighed at that and lastly spoke up.

“I’m not actually on any birth control,” Jennie admitted as she had lied. She didn’t care when she hadn’t been sure if Y/n would have stayed. If she had to force Y/n to get back together then she would do so by trapping her. It only made sense to try and get pregnant if she was ovulating and wanted nothing more than Y/n to stay and to have a baby with her.

“You’re evil,” Y/n whispered and Jennie gave her a haughty little smile, showing that she wasn’t as guilty as she pretended to be.

“I don’t care, I only want you.” She pecked Y/n’s lips before she laid her head on her shoulder, nuzzling her face in her neck, drowning in the comforting scent of home that Y/n was to her.

“I only want you too, Jen.” She couldn’t find it in herself to be angry with the kitten. Y/n loved her too much and neither would she mind having kids with her. All she did was pull her closer and hug her, holding her in a way that would lull Jennie right to sleep and at last let her wake up well-rested after so many bad nights of sleep and crying.

“Start preparing to be a parent and do not forget the ring before I get pregnant.” Jennie pointed out and lifted her left hand, showing the empty fingers to Y/n who leaned in and pecked her ring finger. She giggled when Y/n gently bit it and she quickly hid it after.

“Don’t worry about any of it, I still want to marry you and have a family.”

Jennie’s wish did come true once again.

[tonicandjins]

learning languages | lee donghyuck

pairing: lee donghyuck | nct haechan x reader word count: 18.5k genre: university au, getting together, smut, fluff, angst summary: in which you're an exchange student and donghyuck teaches you the essential korean phrases you need, and eventually how to fall in love with him tag list: @smwhrinthehaze @byungbyungbaek @sundamariis @thiccfullsun @yesohhsehun @haechoshi @najmnluvr @liz-zo @heyitsconysstuff @magicastle @novawon @gaeulswrld author’s note: I’m so sorry it took so long, but here it is! I imagine conversations with everyone in Korean, except for Mark! 😊 I imagine the conversations with Mark in English. I also have 0 knowledge with the Korean language except from the common phrases every Kpop fan knows lol. So please bare with me and feel free to correct me! ^^ Please also consider tipping me if you want to! NCT Dream is coming to my country this April and I’d love to see them if I could :) TIP ME HERE.

날씨가 추워 (nalssiga chuwo) – the weather is cold

The rain is pouring when you arrive in Incheon. 

It’s not as harsh as it is where you come from, but the February breeze still makes you shiver and curse under your breath, and while you’re wallowing and pouting over the fact that your first day in South Korea is not going as well as you wanted, Mark is chirpy—a little too happy for your liking. 

Of course, Mark is happy. Your bitterness over the weather is not going to spoil his energy, the exact same one—maybe stronger—he has had over the past couple of weeks, counting down the days he’d be back in Seoul, finally. Mark has told you that it had been over a decade since he last visited South Korea, and the Student Exchange Program from your university had been the best opportunity for him to come back after so long, too long. The stupid smile on his face somehow makes you feel better, especially when he jumps from his seat when he sees his childhood friend walk towards your area. 

Renjun is handsome like the picture that Mark sent you a week before your flight to South Korea, but it feels a little unfair that he’s even more attractive in person. His voice sounds like honey and the corner of his eyes crinkle when he smiles as he approaches you and Mark. 

They jump into a tight, dramatic hug that makes a few other people in the waiting area look, but the boys don’t care. Mark lifts Renjun up from the ground, it’s almost embarrassing. The sight makes you feel warm. You wonder how Mark feels. 

It must be amazing, you think, to finally meet someone you’ve been longing to see. Mark had always expressed his yearning for the place—the people, the friends he always had to leave behind when visiting during summer—and it makes you wonder how it feels like to have friends and family away from you. 

Evidently, this is your first time to be away from home. You live (or used to at this point) in a dormitory, a two-minute walk to the campus, a good hour away from home, but you always went home whenever you craved for your mother’s dishes. You’ve never considered living away from home. Sure, you had plans to move out eventually, but not in a different time zone, not in an entirely different culture. Mark, on the other hand, is frequently moving around, dragging his suitcase from place to place, leaving people behind and promising he’d come back when he can.

Born in Canada, Mark had been to more places that you could count, but he has told you many times that nowhere else feels like home, like Seoul. He’s told you many stories of the time his family lived there for a few years before going back to Canada, of his annual visits in the summer, and of his devastation when life had caught up with him that he had to stop visiting when he turned eleven. 

You remember his voice, its tone and emotion, when he called you a couple of months ago, informing you of the exchange program that the university’s administration had posted on the students’ corner, and how fucking amazing it would be if you could sign up with him. 

“It would be a good addition to your credentials,” he had told you. “It’s not going to be for a long time, a semester at least. And we have the option to stay the whole academic year if we wanted to! Plus, I already know a lot of people there. We’ll be fine!”

“I don’t know, Mark,” you had answered, feigning hesitation, even when you knew deep down that Mark had already convinced you by the tone of his voice when he revealed the news. “I’ve never been that far away from home. Remember when we went camping in ninth grade? I cried. For three whole days. I’m not going to survive a semester. Besides, I know not a single Korean word.”

“Come on, Y/N,” he had begged. “Think about it. You’ll be with me the entire time. If we pass the screening, the program will sign us up for free Hangul lessons—though, let’s be honest, I don’t really need it.”

“Why do you have to bring me anyway?” you had asked out of curiosity.

“Because I know you’ll love it there,” he had answered. “Your obsession with studying culture and languages will be satisfied because there is no better way to learn a culture than experiencing the whole thing with your best friend!”

You remember humming in response, as if you’re thinking deeply about it. Mark sighed on the other line, his words making you laugh and finally agree. 

“The chances of Mom letting me go is bigger when I tell her you’re coming with me,” he had admitted. Mark, upon hearing your agreement to his proposal, began listing out the places he would take you. The phone call lasted for three more hours and it had seemed like Mark already had an entire plan in his head before he even asked you if you would go with him. 

Passing the program had been easy and so was acquiring your visa. What was truly the pain in the ass, you admit, is learning the damn language. You salute Mark for being able to speak Korean so fluently, but he’s shit at teaching you and you had to rely on the free lessons you had taken every weekend and your favorite language mentor, Lee Minho in Legend of the Blue Sea. Your Korean is awful. Your tongue is a little too short, too stiff, for said language, and the situation almost makes you back out of the entire program and ditch Mark. 

But here you are, still shit at Korean, but standing among hustling people and waiting for your best friend to wrap up the moment he’s sharing with his long-time friend. Renjun finally catches your eyes as you awkwardly watch them on the side, your backpack becoming heavier each second you’re standing on the airport tiles. He pulls away from Mark, smiling, beaming towards you and offers a handshake. 

“Hwang Renjun,” he introduces. You remember their last names go first here. “Nice to meet you.”

It almost startles you when he speaks English. Mark forgot to mention his friend is fluent, you think. 

You tell him your name, voice smaller than it usually is, and express your relief that he speaks English. 

“I’m originally not from here either,” he explains. “I’m Chinese. My family had to move here before I could even properly pronounce words for my Dad’s work. Went to an international school, where I met Mark back in second grade.”

So, he’s cute and multilingual. How unfair.

“And I’d love to chat longer,” he says, switching to Korean now, before you can even respond. “But Hyuck is waiting in his car. We could talk on our way to your dormitory. For now, let’s go. Hyuck hates waiting.”

“Hyuck drove? What happened to your car?” Mark asks, helping you with your luggage and pushing the cart himself. Renjun insists to carry your backpack, and he had already gently pulled it from your shoulder before you could refuse.

Mark and Renjun talk about Hyuck, both switching to speaking Korean now, on their way out of the arrival area and it doesn’t take long for them to spot their friend’s car outside. The rain had stopped pouring by the time you’re settling yourselves inside their friend’s car. The second you settle yourself on the leather seat, you sigh in relief. Traveling is a lot more exhausting than you had initially thought. 

Renjun sits on the passenger seat, right beside Hyuck, you assume, and Mark settles himself beside you.

“Mark Lee,” Hyuck greets, looking at Mark through the rearview mirror. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”

It takes you a second to understand what he said. It’s only then that you realize you really are in Korea. 

“Lee Donghyuck,” Mark responds in the same tone. “You’re real. I’m happy to see you in person and not just through Facetime. I want to hug you.”

“Am I better looking in person?” Hyuck teases. “Hug me when we’re at your dormitory. I’ll even kiss you on the lips if you want to.”

“Disgusting,” Mark grimaces. “By the way—” He turns his attention to you the same time Hyuck begins driving. “This is Y/N.”

Hyuck only smiles, nodding a little to you through the rearview mirror, brushing his brown hair using his fingers to fix it up. Renjun begins to ask how the flight was and Mark replies. All three boys strike up a conversation in Korean and it was all too much, too fast, for you to catch up and understand anything, so you stay quiet on your seat, leaning against the window, and begin to wonder how things will go for the entire spring semester you’ll be spending in this foreign city. 

Mark never told you that the drive from Incheon to Seoul is long, so far that you didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep.  When you arrive at the dormitory, it’s past six in the afternoon and Mark’s friends ask kindly if you want to go out for dinner. Politely and quite incoherently, you tell them that you’d like to stay. Mark insists on staying home with you and unpacking your belongings, but you urge him to go, spend some time with his friends and walk around. Mark hesitates, but agrees nonetheless, promising he will come back in an hour.

The place the program had picked for you and Mark is not that bad. It’s nothing like home, but it’s not bad. It makes you wonder how Mark does it. You remember not being able to sleep on the first few nights on your dormitory’s bed when you were a freshman. Mark had never told you if he’s had trouble adapting to places he’s been. Maybe you could ask him in the morning. 

The exhaustion hits you again upon entering one of the rooms. Room assignment is yet to be decided, but Mark wouldn’t mind if you sleep on one of the beds while he’s out. And so, you sleep. 

You don’t remember what you dream of. And Mark wakes you at seven in the morning, reminding you that you had to unpack and go grocery shopping. Momentarily, you forget where you are. It hits you the same way it does in his friend’s car. You’re in a different country. A different language. A different time zone. 

It doesn’t feel like home at all even though it’s cold. But you guess you’ll have to make it work. At least until the semester ends. 

약속해요 (yagsoghaeyo) – I promise

When Mark told you he knew a lot of people in Seoul, you should’ve known he was bluffing because he literally knew only seven people.

Mark Lee’s friends are warm and loud and somehow you feel out of place when they all decide to hangout where you and Mark are. It’s the first week of the semester, and you have completed all the orientation and tour you need; Mark, on the other hand, is still catching up with everyone.

By everyone, he meant Kevin Moon, a senior who is also Mark’s cousin’s long-distance boyfriend who happens to be studying in SNU too, Hwang Renjun from Natural Sciences, Lee Donghyuck from Music, Lee Jeno and Na Jaemin from Engineering and Architecture, Zhong Chenle from Humanities, and Park Jisung from Business Administration. Which is why every day, for the past five days, you’re at a place called Arcade, with Mark and two or three people from their group.

It turns out Huang Renjun and Na Jaemin were Mark’s friends from childhood, the others are friends by extension.

Huang Renjun, you understand why Mark is closest to him among all. He’s soft all over but sharp in the mouth. Renjun, you learn, likes to talk about life and likes to give people advice when they need it. He’s reserved with other people but is the complete opposite when he’s with his friends.

Lee Jeno is shy. He normally joins the group after his internship at a construction corporation in the outskirts of Seoul, which is why you haven’t really seen him much—only twice. You haven’t had that many conversations with him yet, but he’s kind enough to pass you the ketchup when he sees you staring at it from the end of the table.

Zhong Chenle and Park Jisung are best friends. There’s not a day that you have not seen either without the other, kind of reminds you of how you and Mark are. They join whenever one is available—two peas in a pod.

Na Jaemin is the closest with Lee Donghyuck. You see them talking in their bubble more frequently than the others. Jaemin is mysterious and a little cold—the complete opposite of Lee Donghyuck.

Lee Donghyuck, well, you’ve got a lot to say about him.

It isn’t necessarily an uncomfortable feeling, because Mark’s friends are kind enough to slow down when they talk to you and are quite protective of you, especially when a random stranger bravely comes up to you to introduce themselves. Lee Donghyuck, in particular, who’s as warm as the sun touching your skin at nine in the morning and whose voice is careful and assuring, ensures that you’re never out of place—even when you feel it all the time. From the day the semester started, there hasn’t been a day when Donghyuck isn’t hanging out with you and Mark at Arcade.

Mark normally picks you up from class because thank God your schedules are aligned to each other despite having different majors. The College of Social Sciences is quiet, unlike the building right beside you, College of Music, and Mark usually takes five minutes to find you, because you can’t trust yourself to walk around on your own—at least not yet. But today, Mark asked if you could meet Kevin first because his girlfriend had something for him from Canada.

“Hyungseo!” You hear someone call, making you look up from your phone to see Kevin walking towards you. He stops and turns around, a girl you’ve seen around the college of social sciences once or twice running towards him.

“Don’t forget to bring the laminated cards we need for Friday!” the lady shouts. Kevin gives her a thumbs up and turns back to you.

“Y/N, right?” he asks in English. You nod. He offers a hand. “I’m sorry we haven’t met personally yet. But I’m Kevin.”

“She called you Hyungseo, though,” you trail off, accepting the handshake anyway. “I’ve seen your pictures from Giselle’s phone, so I knew it was you.”

He laughs. “Hyungseo’s my Korean name. You should’ve packed her with you.”

You reach for your bag and hand him the box that’s been sitting in your backpack all day. “Here,” you say. “No plans on visiting sometime soon?”

Kevin sighs. “I wish I could,” he answers. “It’s not as easy as we thought.”

“You guys sound okay though,” you comment. “I mean, Giselle always sounds so happy when she talks about you back home.”

This makes Kevin smile. “Oh, she does?”

“Why would she think of getting you a gift all the way from home if she’s not?” you ask, biting your tongue as soon as the words come out. “Sorry, I shouldn’t ask.”

“Let’s talk about this over some soju when you find a dude you want to spend the rest of your life with here,” he jokes. “Thanks for bringing this. You and Mark have been so busy; he’s been declining all my invitations to hangout.”

You sigh, “Yeah. It’s only the first week and there are lot of things we had to do. I’ll ask him if we can hang out on the weekend?”

Kevin agrees and hands his phone to you, asking to put your number so he could call you. You do and tell him you’re grateful you could talk to someone in English aside from Mark and bid him goodbye when he leaves. You shoot Mark a text, telling him you’ll be waiting for him and that Kevin’s dropped by to get his gift from Giselle.

Hence, you wait outside, busying yourself with your phone, trying to avoid any interaction as much as you can, and you don’t notice Donghyuck standing beside you until he taps your shoulder and gives you a warm smile.

“Mark is running late,” he says slowly. “Let’s go to Arcade together.”

You smile at Donghyuck’s attempt to pronounce Arcade how you would and nod at him. He leads the way out of the building, his backpack on one shoulder, and asks you how your classes are so far.

“It’s okay,” you answer because it’s all you can think of. “Thank God my professor in Psychology speaks English.”

Donghyuck hums. “It must be difficult for you.”

“It is,” you confess.

Among everyone you have met so far, Donghyuck gives you the feeling of comfort; you’re not exactly the most outgoing person nor the least—you were in between. You were okay with that. And you were okay that Donghyuck is okay with that, too. He doesn’t push you to speak more (probably because he knows you most likely do not know how to say whatever you had in mind), but can be very persuasive when there’s a hint that you’re relaxed.

Lee Donghyuck is bold and charming and amiable like nobody you’ve ever known. Normally, or at least with how you’re used to, people are a little more reserved around people they just met. And culturally speaking, you didn’t expect Donghyuck to be so forward and already so comfortable hanging out with you, what more with having conversations like this.

“Don’t worry, though,” he assures. “You’ll be fine. You’re here for about six months, anyway. I promise it’ll be the best six months of your college years.”

He’s also bright like this—optimistic and kind and assuring. You’re glad Mark is friends with people like him, with Donghyuck.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you try to say, a phrase Mark taught you the other night. “Did I say that right?”

Donghyuck giggles, stopping and reaching up to ruffle your hair. “You’re absolutely adorable.”

“That, I am,” you joke back, more comfortable around him now.

“I promise,” he says. “It’ll be so good; you wouldn’t want to go back to Canada.”

한국말 잘 못해요 (hangugmal jal moshaeyo) – I don’t speak Korean well | 죽을래 (jug-eullae) – Do you want to die?

Donghyuck turns out to be a better teacher than Lee Minho and Mark Lee combined. He gifts you a small, pocket-friendly notebook, asking you to keep it for the rest of your stay, notably commenting that the material’s size will allow you to bring it everywhere you go. Hence, the tiny, brown faux leather notebook is safely tucked between your necessities inside your bag.

The first sentence he teaches you turns out to be the most essential: I don’t speak Korean well.

Donghyuck takes you to a café called 7 Days, an entirely different vibe compared to Arcade. You don’t question Donghyuck when he puts an arm on your shoulder as you walk together inside the café, but he asks you right away when he must have felt you stiffen from the touch: “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” you answer quietly.

Donghyuck smiles warmly at you. “Here, have a look around and I’ll get you something to drink before we decide what we want to eat. I have the perfect drink for you!”

He goes before you could say anything. You look and realize that the café is not so bad. Its aesthetic is the complete opposite of what Arcade’s going for—cozy, serene, almost like a good place to study or sleep in, whatever you need to survive the day—and the Biscoff latte is bomb, you don’t think you can drink latte differently now.

Conversations with Donghyuck could, well, unfortunately, go only where your limit is. He’s fun and likes to tell a lot of stories, but it’s always interrupted with you asking what a word means and him pulling up his phone and have his translation app say it for you. He makes jokes that you regrettably do not understand, but Donghyuck doesn’t take it to the heart and only says: “By the end of the term, you’ll be saying these jokes to Mark Lee.”

Donghyuck excuses himself to go to the toilet about an hour later and allows you a few minutes by yourself, which you happily spend taking pictures of the interior of the café. You sigh when you realize you didn’t take a picture of the Biscoff latte when it was full and pretty. Someone taps you on the shoulder, and it could only be Donghyuck, so you turn with a smile.

“I forgot to take a picture of the drink—Oh.” It’s not Donghyuck. “I’m sorry, how can I help you?” you ask politely.

The man towers over you and he smiles warmly. Your cheeks flush when he does, because you probably mispronounce each syllable from that sentence. “I’m Sanha.”

You bow courteously, still have 0 idea why the man is talking to you.

“I don’t see you around often,” he says. “And I’m here, like, almost all the time unless I have a class. My dad owns the place. How do you like it so far?”

“It’s… okay,” you say. Sanha chuckles, and your face is hot you probably look like a red potato now. “I mean, not just okay, I just can’t find the words to—”

He takes Donghyuck’s seat. “I can teach you,” he offers. “We can meet up here, and—”

Donghyuck calls your name, voice firm and monotonous like never before. “It’s getting late. Mark texted me to take you home early because Chenle’s making dinner at your place.”

You look at Sanha apologetically, still unable to reply properly so you only say, “I’m sorry.”

Donghyuck doesn’t give you the chance to say anything more because he’s already helping you out of your seat, turning you around so you could start walking towards the door, pushing you until you’re out of the café.

You hear him sigh as you walk away from the café, arm around your shoulder like how you entered the place.

“Y/N, my sweet pea,” he softly says. “Please don’t to talk strangers.”

You shrug, “It’s not like I could just ignore him when he was already taking you space.”

He scoffs. “When strangers start talking to you and being all brave and upfront, you tell them: I don’t speak Korean well. Then just start hitting them with English words and exaggerate your accent. That’s how Mark Lee tries to avoid conversations with girls sometimes because he’s a loser and women make him nervous.”

“I don’t speak Korean well,” you repeat, slowly pronouncing each syllable.

“Where’s the notebook I asked you to bring everywhere?” Donghyuck asks. “Write that down.”

You nod and tell him you’d do it later. Donghyuck leads the way towards the stop just in time for the bus that’s about to leave. You and him hop in, taking the seats in the back, giggling when Donghyuck almost topples over as soon as the bus starts to move. He lets you sit by the window and starts telling you about how his sister always fights him to get the window seat and he’s never won so he naturally just gives people the said seat.

You’re nearby the next stop when you ask him: “Donghyuck, what if I tell people I don’t speak Korean well and they wouldn’t stop bothering me?”

Donghyuck looks nice in his brown, fluffy jacket, face bare, his eyeglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He looks even nice whenever he smiles like this.

“Y/N, do you know how cute you are?” An answer you don’t expect. “You’re so cute when you ask questions like this. I want to put you in my pocket.”

“Donghyuck,” you sigh, expecting a serious answer.

He reaches up to pat your head. “You won’t have to worry because we won’t let you be on your own unless you ask us to stay away. Especially me. Not me. I’ll make sure to take care of you and Mark while the two of you are here.”

You nod, still not satisfied with the answer. The Sanha situation awhile ago makes you realize how helpless you’d be if you weren’t with Mark or any of his friends. Donghyuck probably notices your dissatisfaction when he feels like you’re sulking, which you definitely are, because he chuckles and pokes your cheek to get your attention again.

“If it makes you feel better,” he says. “You could always ask them if they want to die.”

“That’s mean!” you gasp.

“Or tell them to fuck off,” he shrugs.

“Donghyuck!”

“What?” he asks. “It’s not like I don’t hear you and Mark say ‘fuck you’ to each other every day.”

You laugh at that. “Saying it in Korean hits different.”

“Right!” Donghyuck agrees. “I’ve been telling people saying fuck you in Korean has more impact than in any other language. I can say the word fuck every day.”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” you joke.

Donghyuck coos. “Oh, I’m so proud of you. You’re cracking jokes now.”

The bus halts at your stop, and Donghyuck helps you up by taking your hand the way he’s helping you learn the language. It’s only when you’ve reached the street to the apartment you share with Mark that you realized you’ve been holding hands all the way from the bus stop.

저 알러지 있어요 (jeo alleoji iss-eoyo) – I’m allergic

“Do you not understand what you just did, Mark Lee?” you ask in disbelief.

It’s only a month into your stay in Seoul, and Mark does the dumbest thing ever. Mark Lee comes home with a pet cat.

There were three rules for the spring semester, three very specific and very easy rules: one, to always text each other’s location as soon as you step foot outside of the apartment (which you and him are constantly compliant about; you love Mark Lee for that); two, to never skip a class unless you’re sick (you’re only here until July; Mark decided he’s not wasting a single day in Seoul, even if it means going to classes on time and by schedule without fail); and lastly, don’t keep things you won’t be able to take back home.

Mark had said that these rules are specifically for you because rule number one ensures your safety, rule number ensures you get the real Korean education experience, and rule number three apparently ensures you’re not leaving anything important at the airport when you leave—which now you think is bullshit. The rules are more for him than you, but you love Mark Lee, and it’s not like the cat isn’t cute.

“But, Y/N,” Mark pouts. “She kept on staring at me with these eyes when Renjun was busy comparing brands of dog treats. It was like her eyes were calling me, asking me to take her home!”

The calico cat is a baby; Mark said it’s not even five months old yet. It’s the last from seven siblings, the last one to be adopted (and you think Mark is only telling you this to convince you this is a good idea. She jumps out from Mark’s lap and goes to you, staring at you first before settling herself on your lap.

“She loves you already!” Mark comments.

You sigh. “Mark. You know we can’t take her home, right? We’re leaving in like, five months.”

“Which means I have five months to convince our friends to adopt her while I’m in Canada!” he answers enthusiastically, his eyes almost sparkling with the way he’s talking. “I couldn’t just leave her there. My heart wouldn’t allow me to leave without her!”

“Fine,” you give up. “Don’t cry on me on the plane back home when we leave her.”

Mark chuckles. “I think I should be more worried about you crying on the plane back home.”

Someone knocks on your door before you can ask what he means by that. It’s Mark who stands and welcome the person, and of course, it’s Donghyuck.

It’s Saturday. Saturday means Donghyuck comes and hangs out at your place because he no longer has to work in the university library on the weekends. He’d quit, saying his big mouth isn’t fit for the library, and had asked the school administration to reassign him to another facility. Part of his scholarship is to work at least 16 hours a week in one of the university’s facilities. He’s paid, of course, but Donghyuck says he’s not paid enough to keep his mouth shut for 16 hours a week. The admin asked for a week to figure out where he’d be assigned next, so he had this entire weekend all to himself, which, to how it looks like now, he’d decided to spend with you and Mark.

Mark lets Donghyuck in. The latter’s smile falters when he sees you; he only gives you a curt nod. And it’s not like you’re expecting Donghyuck to cuddle you on the couch, alright? It’s just that, you’ve known each other for a month now, and have hung out together a handful of times—just the two of you—and he called you yesterday telling you he’d come hangout with you and Mark for the weekend, even said something about teaching you to play Apex if you have the energy for it. And it’s not like he’s obligated to come sit beside you as soon as he enters your apartment, but you’re confused when he sits on the single couch far away from you, stance uncomfortable and his face looking like he’d rather be elsewhere.

Mark’s voice fades away when he asks Donghyuck what their plans are, to which Donghyuck answers: “I’m actually just here to say hi. I’m leaving in a bit.”

“No way,” Mark protests.

“Or we could go out?” Donghyuck offers.

“Uh-uh,” Mark refuses. “Y/N has been excited all morning to see you. You’re not going to disappoint her today.”

“I didn’t say anything—” You try to say, but couldn’t translate what you want to say quick enough. “Donghyuck obviously doesn’t want to be here.”

Over the course of a month living in Seoul, you and Donghyuck had grown closer more than anyone. It would be ridiculous to deny Donghyuck’s seemingly unceasing affection towards you, and in the same manner, it would be a lie if you’d say you’re not enjoying all the attention he’s been giving you. Above the flirty and friendly advances he makes (but never crossing the line), Donghyuck has grown to be a good friend. During the first couple of weeks, you would refer to him as Mark’s friend; it’s safe you say you’re friends with him now.

Donghyuck’s decided to pick you up from the college of Social Sciences, convincing Mark that his building is literally next to yours and that a ten-minute walk to Arcade with you is not going to hurt him—Mark’s been walking with you for many years anyway, he would mumble under his breath, close enough for you to hear but distant enough for you to understand what he truly means. Hence, with the growing friendship you have with him, you wonder what you had done this time.

“It’s not like that,” Donghyuck answers the question you had in mind, both hands raised in defense. You raise an eyebrow. “That.”

Donghyuck points at your lap, Mark’s unnamed cat sleeping soundly now. Oh.

“I’m allergic,” he explains. “I can’t be around one within like a five-meter radius otherwise, I would, like, you know, die.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Mark comments. “Are you really?”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck confirms. “The allergens are getting to me. My throat is starting to close up. I have to leave now.”

This startles you and Mark, the latter quickly taking the calico cat from your lap and quickly taking it to his room. You reckon the cat’s allergens are all over you so you sit as far away as you can from Donghyuck.

“It’s fine,” he assures, but he already looks like he’s choking. “It’s not that serious. They usually just give me allergic rashes and kind of triggers my asthma. So, we’re good.”

“But you have a dog!” you remark. “You never told me you’re allergic to cats!”

He chuckles, “Well, you learn something every day.”

“There are some anti-histamine tablets from the cupboard,” you point out, still seated where you are. “I probably have allergens on my hands; please go get yourself one.”

Donghyuck does what he’s told, taking one and opening the fridge to get himself a bottle of water. You tell him you’re changing your clothes and ask him to wait up, offering to go out and have a meal with him instead.

Mark knocks on your door a couple of minutes later, finding you dressed up, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Donghyuck said he’d wait outside. You look nice.”

“I know I look nice,” you say as you go back to your vanity to throw whatever you’d need for the day in your small dumpling bag, including a box of Benadryl. “You’re not coming with us because you have cat all over you.”

Mark chuckles, leaning against the doorframe. “Donghyuck literally told me the same thing. He’s growing on you,”

You only hum in response, checking your bag for the last time before walking towards the door where Mark Lee is still leaning on, the same smirk playing on his lips still plastered.

“What?” you ask.

Mark doesn’t say anything, but he raises and shows you his right hand, sticking three fingers up.

먹었습니다 (meog-eossseubnida) - The meal was good.

Seoul National University’s library is as quiet as it can be; it’s almost scary how the only sounds you’d only hear are the faint sounds of pages being flipped and pens gliding on notepads, and the eerie echoes of the tension coming from students who are either cramming on an assignment or jumping from one subject to another in hopes of getting everything they read retained in their head.

Donghyuck used to tell you this is the exact reason why he didn’t like working at the library. It’s too quiet but too loud at the same time. You chuckle at the memory of him telling you anecdotes of his short-lived employment in the library and wonder how different it is being the soccer team’s laundry guy. He’s probably pouting all the way from the beginning of his shift until the end.

“Here,” Jung Sungchan disrupts your thoughts, keeping his voice as quiet as possible. “I found these, maybe it could help bridge the gap we’re struggling on.”

You and Sungchan are paired up for a two-week long assignment for one of your major subjects. The objective was to present a summarized and substantial report on the welfare state, and you think Sungchan must have tripped on all the bad luck in his life to have been paired up with someone who couldn’t speak Korean that well, because, well, the books they had are mostly in Korean. If speaking and understanding Korean is a struggle for you, reading the damn language is hell.

“This is a good thing,” Sungchan assures. “There are resources online that are mostly in English. We can combine everything we find and construct the report from there!”

You nod and hand over the book you’re reading before he arrived, explaining that you found a chapter that could be very helpful. The boy fires up his laptop and starts accessing the website your professor had recommended you to use.

Sat side by side, you and Sungchan study in silence, except for when he asks you to read an article for him and explain what it means. The session lasts for hours, thank God you and him didn’t have classes for the rest of the day, and within those hours of studying with Sungchan, you can’t help but notice the looks you were getting anytime someone passes by the two of you.

It’s no secret that Jung Sungchan is probably one of the most attractive men in the university. He’s tall and has skin that’s as clear as a day in summer, smile that could swoon a lot of people off their feet, broad shoulders that’s probably carrying the entire hockey team for this year’s season—and yes, it doesn’t help the fact that Jung Sungchan is the most popular jock at the moment, apparently for hard carrying the team to win last year’s trophy, ending Seoul National University’s 10-year drought and awakening the school’s love for sports back. And you think it’s quite unfair that people like him exist. Because you would expect that he’s an asshole who doesn’t care about his grades because he’s essentially SNU’s hero at the moment, but he’s not. Jung Sungchan, you learn, takes his degree in Social Sciences very seriously.

And it’s evident with the way his eyebrows are furrowed as he reads the tenth book he found from the shelves.

“I think this part makes more sense now,” he points out, leaning closer so he could show you the article he’s reading. “In residual regimes, welfare-seeking units are primarily family and market. On the other hand, in the institutional welfare regime, the function of providing welfare belongs directly to the state.”

“But countries with different social conditions and lifestyles should have differed in terms of welfare states,” you argue. “We have to consider that the development of industrialization and production growth could be very different from one country to another.”

Sungchan hums. “Good point. Perhaps we can find more of that from Wilensky and Lebaux’s work. Do you have the book over there?”

You nod and hand him the book. Just as Sungchan flips the book open, Mark occupies the seat across you.

“We’ve been calling you,” Mark whispers to you, then turning to look at Sungchan. “Hey, man. Mark. Y/N’s best friend.”

Sungchan gives him a polite nod before going back to the book. You raise an eyebrow at Mark and slip your phone from the pocket of your backpack and find all the missed calls from him, Renjun, and Donghyuck.

“My phone’s been on silent for like, I don’t know, four hours,” you tell him, slipping your phone back to your back. “And I texted you I’d be at the library.”

“Yeah, like four hours ago,” he answers. “I didn’t think you’d really stay here for four hours. Anyway—” Mark pulls out a lunch bag and slides it across the table. “Donghyuck made this for you. He figured you’d be hungry.”

It’s only then that it hit you. The last meal you had was that bagel you had for breakfast on the way to school, which you had seven or eight hours ago.

“My sweet Donghyuckie,” you coo, thankful for his thoughtfulness. “Thanks, Mark. Sungchan and I will share because we’ll be here until we finish at least the structure of the report.”

“It’s getting late though,” Mark points out.

Sungchan clears his throat. “I can drive you home.”

“Great!” Mark exclaims, which earns him multiple shushes from the other students studying. “Sorry. Great!” he says again, in a whisper this time.

Mark bids goodbye to you and offers a handshake to Sungchan, telling him he’ll see him often in the next two weeks or for as long as you and him are paired-up on your major subjects. Sungchan gives him one last assurance you’ll be home safe.

You ask Sungchan to take a break and open the lunch bag. Inside it are two bento boxes full of food, too much for one person, and you don’t take another minute to wait. Sungchan must have been hungry too, because he doesn’t refuse when you offer the other half of your meal to him.

You’re not really sure how much longer you and Sungchan stay in the library, but as soon as you’ve finalized the structure of the report and have agreed on assigned topics, he suggests that you and him go home and meet up again on Friday so you can start assembling the presentation. And as promised, Sungchan drives you home, glad when he realized your apartment is only ten minutes away from his.

It’s already ten in the evening when you reach home. Mark’s probably already sleeping, you think when you don’t see any light peaking from smallest of the small space between his door and the floor. It’s late anyway, and you don’t really have much energy to tell him about your day like you always do. In fact, you don’t even have the energy to shower anymore, and because you don’t like sleeping on your bed with your outside clothes, you opt to sleep on the couch tonight.

The last thing you do is shoot Donghyuck a text message: “The meal was good.”

삼각관계 (sam-gak-kwan-gae) – love triangle

Jung Sungchan invites you watch to one of his preliminary games the day after you completed the report with him. Mark teasingly tells you that you have boys wrapped around your finger not even two months living in Seoul. You deny the claims, of course, because Sungchan is nothing but a good friend and you don’t see him as anything more.

Donghyuck is the first person you think of when Sungchan gives you two spare tickets for the game, and you like to think that it’s only because you don’t want Mark teasing you and accusing you of romance all afternoon, and also because Donghyuck has a car and Mark is a shit navigator so you can’t trust him to commute with you from the university to the indoor arena where the game is being held.

SNU’s team wins, of course, and you proudly cheer for Sungchan, which earns you a side eye from Donghyuck. You shrug it off and pretend that you didn’t see.

“Can we go now?” Donghyuck asks, bored, when people start leaving the arena.

You shake your head. “Sungchan asked me to wait for him after the game.”

“You know that barbecue place I told you we’d go to?” Donghyuck reminds. “We can go there—“

Your phone rings. It’s Sungchan. Donghyuck sighs.

“Congratulations, nerd!” is the first thing you tell him. Sungchan thanks you, laughing from the other end of the call, and apologizes that he can no longer meet you because the team’s been hogging him the second they won the round.

“It’s fine,” you assure. “I’m with Donghyuck, anyway. I’ll see you at school?”

“No, no,” Sungchan answers. “There’s a small celebration party at Shotaro’s house. It’s a twenty to thirty-minute drive from your apartment. I’ll send you the location. Go there.”

Sungchan hangs up, and not even a second later, you receive a text from him, a location pinned on the message. You show the message and pout at Donghyuck, and he’s looking at you all bored, rolling his eyes, before nodding and taking your hand so you and him could leave the arena.

The drive to the place takes about an hour from the arena, and you spend it singing along to Michael Jackson’s songs.

“You have a really nice voice,” you comment. Donghyuck laughs.

“Baby,” he says. “I wouldn’t be pursuing a career in music if I had a shitty voice.”

The nickname gives you a flush, and you could only hope Donghyuck wouldn’t notice.

Almost two months into meeting Lee Donghyuck, you find yourself unable to keep your heartbeat down whenever he does things like this—calling you nicknames, randomly showing up in places where you are just to say hi, holding your hand, texting and calling you every day, spending his weekends and times off with you, and doing simple and domestic things for you—and your heart tells you it’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with a whirlwind romance in Seoul. Donghyuck doesn’t ever hesitate, and the fact that you’re holding back means you really like him. But the rational part of you says it’s not really a good idea to be in a situationship with someone who will most likely forget you as soon as you go back to Canada, and you can’t afford a heartache from miles away. Besides, Donghyuck probably isn’t that serious with whatever that’s going on.

Rumors say (by rumors, you mean Chenle and Jisung) that Donghyuck is the type of guy who dates one girl after another. Because he’s bold and charming and amiable and likes to expand his choices, and he finds that there’s nothing wrong with dating as long as he doesn’t date multiple women at the same time. You haven’t really seen him out on a date since you had met him. Rumor (Chenle) says that he’s been single since fall of last year and had committed to stay single this year because of the messy breakup and also because he’s on his last year of college, he’d need to focus on stepping up his game if he wants entertainment companies to fight over him as soon as he starts looking for agencies after graduation. Another rumor (Jisung) says he’s rejected many women who have tried to sleep with him since news broke that Lee Donghyuck is newly single. The rumor says he’s as popular as Jung Sungchan when it comes to women, which, if you’re being honest, gives you some kind of pedestal to walk hand-in-hand with him in the university grounds. You realize now that you get the same look from women when you’re with Donghyuck like the stares you got whenever you and Sungchan are stuck in the library for hours of studying.

The only difference is that, well, you like that people stare at you with a hint of jealousy whenever you’re with Donghyuck.

“Why haven’t you invited me to your gigs?” you ask before you could even think about it. “Sungchan’s only been friends with me for like three weeks and he already got me tickets to his game. You, on the other hand…”

The car halts to a slow stop, Donghyuck’s phone telling you that you’ve arrived at your location. Donghyuck doesn’t switch off the engine though. He chuckles licking his lips, then poking his tongue on his cheeks, fucking with your heart and hormones in the process. He keeps his hand on the steering wheel and turns to look at you, eyes hazed in attraction like he’s pulling you in.

“Baby,” he says in a whisper almost. “I don’t like love triangles.”

“Love… triangles?” you repeat.

“Love triangles,” he says in English. “I fucking hate it. And we’re not about to go through that trope in our love story here. So, let me make it clear before we go inside and before you even think about sticking to Sungchan all night.”

You gulp.

“There’s no Sungchan in the equation,” he states like a command and you find yourself nodding, agreeing. “It’s only you and me. Tonight, there will be a lot of people and none of them will be in the equation. Tonight, you’re sticking with me and we’ll talk about this tomorrow. Have fun with me and see if you want to take this to another level, because if you ask me, I’ve been dying to fucking kiss you since the semester began.”

This territory is new, and this Donghyuck is new, too. He’s always been affectionate and he’s never held back, but this new level of honesty is astonishing. Damn attractive if you’re being honest.

“Come here,” he says, ridding himself from his seatbelt. You do the same, leaning closer to him. Donghyuck holds your cheeks with both hands, smiling down at you before leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I’m not giving you mixed signals. This is me giving you a clear, direct sign that I like you and I like what we have, but I’d love to take another step. I’ve been thinking about it, and I don’t really want someone to enter the equation while I’m trying to woo you.”

You giggle. “You already successfully wooed the romance out of me the second you started holding my hand, Lee Donghyuck. And no, there won’t be love triangles.”

Donghyuck’s honesty fires up some courage in you, and you like the feeling of watching him falter when you lean in, hand on the back of his neck, and kiss him for the first time. The man melts in your kiss and in your touch, but doesn’t wait for another heartbeat to kiss you back. And despite of the bottled-up and eagerness from both sides, the first kiss is soft the first time, featherlike and sweet. His lips are even softer than they look and his lips already look plump as it is, and when Donghyuck licks your lips and invites himself in, God, he makes sure you taste the sweetness from his mouth and in a minute you’re addicted and you kiss and kiss and kiss, lips locking, tongue gliding, breaths gasping.

It’s him who pulls away, leaving you with dazed eyes wanting, wanting, wanting more.

Donghyuck gives you one last kiss on the forehead. “Let’s go.”

이렇게? (ireoke) – Like this?

You don’t end up seeing Sungchan at all in the party, and you don’t mind because Donghyuck keeps you glued to his side. The party is fun, but you and Donghyuck decide not to drink a single drop of alcohol. To him, it’s because he has to drive. To you, it’s because you want to be entirely sober to remember whatever happens tonight.

Donghyuck makes out with you in the corner of the living room where people are crumpled, and you like that he doesn’t care that people see. He holds you by the waist and on your neck, and you get it now. You get why women are lining up to sleep with Donghyuck, because if he can kiss like this, what else can he do with his mouth?

You shoot a message to Sungchan with a selfie of you and Donghyuck, thanking him for inviting you to the party and telling him you’ll see him on your next class together (Donghyucks suggests you send Sungchan a picture of you and him making out.) and prompt to leave. Donghyuck says goodbye to a few people he knew, holding you by the waist all the way from the house to where his car is parked.

Donghyuck drives you to his apartment and tells you he’s told Mark you’d be sleeping at his place tonight. The drive itself was intense enough and Donghyuck’s doing an amazing job keeping his cool while you’re practically sweating from the passenger’s seat.

You don’t even get a good look at his apartment when you arrive, because Donghyuck’s already kissing you as he rids himself of his jacket. Donghyuck doesn’t kiss you softly this time; he kisses you like he’s leaving a mark on your mouth, almost like he wants to bruise his presence inside you. He helps you get slip out of your jacket, pulling away quickly to kick his shoes off, before carrying you bridal style and bringing you to his room, kicking the door behind.

Despite the roughness of his kisses, he puts you to bed gently, ridding himself of his shirt and kneeling on the floor so he could help you out of your socks. He leans up once he’s done, one hand on your jaw to pull you down for another kiss, the other caressing your thigh.

“Please tell me this is okay,” he whispers. You nod. “I need your words, baby.”

“Yes, Donghyuck,” you answer, breathless when he starts kissing your neck. “This is okay. Please touch me.”

Donghyuck pushes you a little so half of your body is lying on his bed, your feet flat on his carpeted floor, tugging the loops of your jeans, urging you to lift your hips so he can rid you out of the material. He pulls you back up to take your shirt off from your torso, then he’s helping you back up from the edge of the bed towards the headboard as he crawls on top of you.

“Donghyuck,” you gasp when he goes back to kissing you. You realize that Donghyuck like kissing with the way he’s using his mouth to imprint his presence in you, his tongue licking everywhere it can reach inside your mouth, and he tastes like mint and the soda he had at the party, and he’s everything that you want. “Touch me, please.”

“Like this?” Donghyuck reaches down to rub your clit through the material of your underwear. He rubs slow, teasingly, and kisses you on the mouth when you groan. He dips his head lower and kisses your neck; he bites and nips and sucks and you’re sure it’s leaving a mark you’d have to conceal the next day. “Want me to touch you like this, baby?”

A moan elicits from your throat, and Donghyuck doesn’t waste any more time. He slips his warm hand between your skin and your underwear, really touching you, rubbing your clit gently, his digits dragging itself on your slit slowly, gathering your wetness then going back to rub your clit again, more roughly with the pool of wetness his fingers have now.

“Like this?” he asks again, pushing a finger inside when he finds your hole, urging another moan from your lips.

“Oh my God, Donghyuck,” you gasp when he fingers you gently, your wetness making a sound when he adds another finger. Donghyuck takes his time, biting his lips as he watches you writhe underneath his touch.

“Pull your bra down,” he breathes out, and you do. When your breasts are out on the open, Donghyuck doesn’t waste time and locks lips with your nipple, sucking and licking as he fingers the sanity out of you. He alternates from fingering you with two digits and rubbing you using his thumb, and you’re all putty and messy under him, and you want more, more, more, more.

“Baby, please fuck me,” you beg. “Please, Donghyuck. Please fuck me”

Donghyuck hushes you. “I will, baby. I’ll fuck you so well, you’ll come running back to me tomorrow and the day after, and the day after.”

But he doesn’t. He pulls his fingers out, hold you by your jaw so you could lock eyes while he licks the proof of your attraction to him from his fingers, sucking and showing you just how well he could use his tongue. He doesn’t fuck you get but he rids you of the last garments from your body and does the fucking impossible.

Donghyuck eats you out like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have. He swirls his tongue on your clit as he pushes his digits back in your hole, fingering you like it’s all he’s ever wanted, and he’s got you chanting his name like a prayer when his tongue laps your sex, even more when he replaces his fingers with his tongue. You’re writhing and screaming and Donghyuck’s holding your legs apart while he pleasures you with his mouth and hands.

You don’t want to cum yet, but Donghyuck’s so, so good, and it looks like he’s not stopping anytime soon. He tongues you back to your clit and fingers you with three digits, fast and rough.

“Donghyuck, I’m going to—” You see white and stars and you stay still when Donghyuck continues fingering you, moving all three fingers in an upward motion, reaching where you want him the most, mouth sucking your clit as you ride the first orgasm you’ve had in months.

Donghyuck lets you have your moment when it’s done, taking the time to lick the slick wetness from his fingers down to his wrist, kneeling between your legs. You push yourself up so that you’re sitting with your legs wide open, your palms flat on his sheets, head tilted for a kiss. Donghyuck leans over and kisses you again, and you never thought you’d like tasting yourself in his tongue. You guess everything tastes sweeter when it’s in Donghyuck’s mouth.

“Off, please,” you murmur, pulling the loops from his jeans. Donghyuck obeys, removing all pieces of clothing until he’s naked.

You marvel at his beauty, licking your lips when you finally see him bare and clean. His golden skin looks like honey and you want to kiss the fuck out of his collarbones and leave your mark for everyone to see. Your eyes travel from his chest down to the trail from his tummy down to his erect cock. He’s hard and red and you salivate from how big he looks and feel yourself getting even more wet at the thought of him fucking you. Before you know it, you’re reaching out, moving so you could kneel, and taking his hardness in your hand. Donghyuck moans for the first time tonight, and you plan to elicit that sound from him all night.

Stroking him slowly, you feel a rush of satisfaction when Donghyuck pants your name. “Oh my God,” he moans when you bend over, a palm flat on his sheets, your other hand stroking him as you take him to your mouth. He gathers your hair and watches you from above, and you purposely stick your ass up higher when you feel him twitch as you take more of his cock into your mouth. When you’re about halfway, you stroke the rest of what you can’t take and start sucking and licking, and Donghyuck makes the absolute best sound ever. You like his voice when he sings, but you don’t think anything could compare with how he’s whining your name as you suck his dick thoroughly, licking and jerking off whatever your mouth couldn’t fit. A part of you wants to ask Donghyuck to fuck your mouth, bruise your throat with his dick and cum straight down your fucking stomach if he wants to, but that could be arranged next time. This time, with his dick hard and wet from your mouth, you want him to fuck you.

You suck him one last time before you pull away, a string of your saliva following when you look up at Donghyuck. “Now, will you fuck me?”

Donghyuck looks fucked out, eyes dazed with lust, and you want nothing more than for him to ruin you. And Donghyuck doesn’t need to be asked twice.

He crawls back up until you’re lying on your back, legs wide open for him, and kneels between your legs. “Ready and sure?” he asks for the last time, stroking himself.

“Pull out when you cum,” is all you say and Donghyuck goes for it. He gives you a kiss and rests one of his forearms beside your arm, massaging the head of his cock on your opening until he’s stretching you out.

“Fuck,” Donghyuck groans when he feels your tightness. “God damn, Y/N, when was the last time you got fucked?”

“I—I can’t remember,” you say. “None of them were worth remembering.”

“And me?” Donghyuck asks as he pushes deeper until he’s fully stretched you and his pelvis is leaning against your clit. “Will you remember me?”

“Ask me next time,” you breathe out. “I think you’ll have to fuck me every day so I can remember.”

Donghyuck gives you some time, kissing you softly. “When was the last time you fucked anyone?” you ask in return.

“I can’t remember,” he parrots. “None of them were worth remembering. All I know is that this is the first time I’m feeling someone raw.” Then he bottoms out, gives you only half a second before he’s thrusting back and out and back and out and back and out, slowly but surely fucking you well.

Donghyuck fucks you like he means it. His hips snap roughly but makes sure you feel all of him before he thrusts out and he’s everywhere. His tongue is in your mouth, then on your neck, his free hand is caressing one of your breasts, playing with your nipples, and he’s making you feel so, so good and you’re not sure how you go back from here. You’re not sure how you could go on with life knowing how well Donghyuck can fuck you. He’s got you squirming and reaching your second orgasm only minutes into fucking the life out of you.

When you’re close, Donghyuck pushes himself up so that he’s kneeling again, and lifts both your legs, resting your calves on either side of his shoulders, hugging your legs so he can fuck you deeper in this angle. The precision makes you chant his name over and over again and he takes one of his hands down to rub your clit. You try your best to hold back from cumming because the way he’s fucking you now feels so damn good that you want it to last for a long time. He thrusts in and out quickly, his balls hitting the bottom of your ass again and again.

“Come for me, baby,” he says. “Let go.”

So, you do, and Donghyuck keeps on fucking you through it. Donghyuck lets you finish, before he’s pushing the back of your knees down so your thighs are pressed up against your stomach, chasing his own orgasm, and fucks you hard, without rhythm, until he is moaning your name like praise and he’s pulling out so he could release on your stomach. You reach up to caress his cheek as you watch him in awe as he finishes, his face contorted in pleasure, lips wet and eyes closed.

When it’s done, Donghyuck kisses you on the forehead and helps you clean up. He leaves to go to the bathroom for a minute to grab a warm, wet towel, cleaning your stomach, and carries you back to the bathroom with him. The shower is warm, and Donghyuck is gentle and sweet when he cleans you up, giving you kisses when he pats you dry once he’s gotten rid of the shampoo and body wash from your hair and skin. Donghyuck tells you there’s a spare toothbrush on behind the mirror and washes himself as you brush your teeth, naked but warm.

Donghyuck tells you to that the right side of his closet is where you can find the clothes he uses at home and you follow as he finishes cleaning himself up. You take the liberty to take one of his shirts that are still too big for you despite Donghyuck’s frame and slip a pair of cotton shorts.

Donghyuck finds you half-asleep when he’s done showering; he sleeps shirtless, you reckon, because he crawls to bed only in sweatpants. He cuddles you from behind, kissing the clothed shoulder, and the last thing you hear before you drift off to sleep is him humming a song your mind can’t recognize and a promise that you’ll talk about this the next day.

You wake up to the smell of Spam, an empty space beside yours, and the sound of Donghyuck singing a song from BOL4, which you learned is one of his favorite musicians.

Donghyuck smiles warmly at you when you find him in the kitchen, just about to finish pan-frying the last piece of sliced luncheon meat. He’s still shirtless, but is wearing a cute pink apron, and he gives you a quick kiss on the lips like it’s the most natural thing ever. The second his lips pull away from yours, you reach up and touch where he kissed, lips tingling—in disbelief that what happened last night is real.

“Good morning,” he hums. “Just in time for breakfast.”

“Donghyuck,” you trail off. “Can we talk first?”

Donghyuck nods, offering that you sit on the high stool across the small kitchen island. He sits next to you, turning the seat so that you’re face to face, knees touching. “What do we want to do?” he asks.

“You know I’m leaving in like, four months, right?” you start.

Donghyuck whistles. “We just started and you’re already breaking up with me?”

“No, no,” you say, exhaling. “This… this. I like. You. I like.”

“Baby, construct your sentences properly,” he laughs.

“I like you,” you confess. “And I like this. I like holding your hands. And kissing you. And what we did last night. I’m just worried because—”

“Because you’re leaving,” he finishes for you. “I know, but I also like you a lot. More than you probably think. And I don’t want to miss my chance getting to know you more just because you’re leaving in a few months. I don’t know what you want, but here’s what I want, you let me know if it works for you, if not, then I’ll still be a friend. Who might cry for two weeks straight if you reject me.”

You laugh but urge him to continue.

“I want to date you, and get to know you even more. Your quirks, the things that make you angry, your comfort food, the movies that give you the ick,” he continues. “Your family, how you were raised, if you like Marvel or DC more, what Hogwarts house you belong to, if you like pineapple in pizza or not, whether you pour milk or cereal first, if you ever kissed Mark Lee, if Mark Lee’s ever had a crush on you.”

“What does Mark have—”

“Shh,” he stops. “It’s my turn. Talk later. Anyway, I want this—” he gestures the space between you and him. “And I want you. I want to keep teaching you the language and I know what’s ahead of us is scary, and there’s only two things that could happen: this is going to be either the biggest heartbreak of my life or you’re going to be the greatest love of my life. It’s a fifty-fifty chance, Y/N. Let’s just say I’m willing to risk whatever if it means I have 50% the chances of having you as the greatest love of my life.”

Oh. You don’t realize you’re staring quietly until Donghyuck holds your hand.

“Now tell me,” he asks slowly. “What do you want?”

You don’t hesitate. “I want you, Lee Donghyuck.”

일어날 수 있는 최악의 상황은 무엇입니까? il-eonal su issneun choeag-ui sanghwang-eun mueos-ibnikka? What’s the worst that could happen?

It doesn’t come out as a surprise to anyone when you and Donghyuck arrive at Arcade holding hands, a shy smile playing on your lips, a proud one in Donghyuck’s. You were thankful that there were no teasing remarks coming from your friends—that they were taking this so well, like it’s normal. Like it’s meant to happen anyway. There’s a knowing smirk on Mark’s stupid face, but you love him and you can’t wait to tell him all about how you feel towards Donghyuck. “Okay, so my birthday falls on a weekend,” Jeno announces. “And I think it’s the best time to go to the amusement park. Will you have work then, Renjun-ah?”

“Most likely,” Renjun answers, mouth full of food as he chews on a bite of pizza. “But I can have Yerim cover for me. I’ll just return the favor if she needs me one day.”

“Sweet!” Jeno exclaims. “So, it’s decided then. We’ll go to the amusement park on my birthday.”

As you and Donghyuck play footsie under the table, Mark stands, turning to you. “I’m going to get another milkshake. Come with me?”

You nod, kicking Donghyuck one last time and standing to follow your best friend. Somehow, you feel bad for not saying anything about your growing feelings for Donghyuck, considering that Mark is your best friend in the entire universe and you’re his. If it were him, he would’ve told you the second he caught feelings to anyone. But Mark knows you’re not the kind to admit feelings like this as soon as it starts inflating in your chest; he knows you’re the type to hold it in until you can’t anymore. Having had terrible relationships in the past, Mark has always known that you’re the kind to be careful.

“I didn’t think you’d actually go for it,” Mark says as soon as you and him are out of earshot. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy for you. I just didn’t expect this to happen so quickly.”

“Me neither,” you mumble under your breath. “Sorry for not saying anything.”

Mark chuckles. “You didn’t have to. I mean, we all kinda always known this would happen. I just couldn’t imagine how you and Donghyuck sealed it so quickly, like considering how shy and quiet you always were whenever he was around.”

“I was shy and quiet with everyone around,” you remark. “Donghyuck taught me all these slangs and now I can’t stop talking.”

The woman in the counter asks you what she can help you with when you reach her. Mark tells his order alongside some sides Renjun had asked him to get. He leans on the counter, turning back to you. “Anyway.”

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re serious serious.” Mark clears his throat. “Like, I’ve known you for so long and you’ve always been hesitant to do shit. I’ve always been the spontaneous and reckless one between us, and you’re the careful one. The one who thinks everything through before deciding on it—this trip to Seoul included on the long list.”

“Your point is?” you ask, even though you know exactly where this is going.

Mark licks his lips before continuing: “What I’m saying is, you’ve never been this certain so quickly.”

That’s right. Not to be cliché or whatever, but this is normally how it goes for you. Relationships used to be difficult for you—from the pining to the confession to its climax to its end, until the bargaining and acceptance—and you’d never been the type to go through things so quickly and easily. With Donghyuck, you’d somehow done it backwards (and Mark doesn’t need to know that you slept with Donghyuck before you even sealed the damn relationship) but for some reason, you had forgotten how you’re supposed to act around people you like romantically. It scares the shit out of you, the connection between you and Donghyuck, but you’ve always been a firm believer that if it doesn’t scare you, it probably isn’t something worth doing. It feels like jumping from a cliff, to the bottom of the unknown, and it’s new, but it makes your heart pound like never before.

“I don’t want to get ahead and say something that’d make you change your mind somehow, because I also like you and Donghyuck together,” he explains when you only stare at him. “But, as your best friend, with the best intentions only, please don’t go breaking your heart before we leave, yeah?”

You nod, understanding and appreciating Mark’s sentiment. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Mark shrugs. “We won’t really know. Take care, yeah?”

You smile stepping closer to hug Mark. “I love you, you know that, right?” he asks. You nod, your face buried on his chest. “Good. I’ll beat Donghyuck’s ass if he hurts you in anyway.”

“I sure hope you do,” you reply, just in time for the staff to call Mark’s attention, the tray of his order ready for him.

Donghyuck is pouting when you return, asking why you and Mark took too long because the seat beside him is all cold now. You kiss him on the cheek and tell him Mark just told you he’s beating his ass if you’re hurt in anyway.

“Mark can’t hurt a fly,” Donghyuck remarks. “What makes you think he can hurt me, huh?”

Mark scoffs. “You’ll be the first.”

계절과 계절 사이 (gyejeolgwa gyejeol sai) – between seasons

When the seasons start to change—from the rainy, cold spring transition to a warm, sunny summer—you and Donghyuck change, too.

From the euphoric blooming of your relationship—the playful dates, the passionate moments in his bedroom (because ever since Mark adopted that cat, Donghyuck could never stay at your place for longer than an hour), the heart-warming feeling of seeing him waiting for your after your class—to the warm, comfortable attachment stage, you feel like you know Donghyuck in a deeper sense now.

The small notebook he’d given you at the beginning of the term is halfway full, its pages messily scribbled with phrase and sentences you had learned—likewise the memories those words carry—and soon enough you find yourself more comfortable with the language, and eventually with Seoul. You find yourself enjoying, and not in a way that makes you think you’d want to visit again soon.

The journey with Seoul was initially a play to learn the language and its beautiful culture: a detour. A diversion from your plans. A stop while you figure out what you want in life. Your last year in university is supposed to be the year you finally decide what to do next. Visiting Seoul was an opportunity for you to really get to know yourself beyond your comfort zone, to really challenge your capabilities, to learn beyond what your hometown had in store for you.

But these days do not feel like Seoul is a place to visit.

In a way, liberating albeit frightening, you find yourself thinking that perhaps Seoul is a place to build a home in. The home is built from arms that hold you on days when it’s extra cold, your nose red and hands frozen, and its shelter is made from Donghyuck’s warm smile and the assurance of him being there for you. And right now, while you sit closely together at the back of your friend’s car, their obnoxiously loud voices singing to some pop song along the radio, you feel it: home.

Jeno likes the phone case you had customized for him, and he gives you a big, bear hug as soon as he take a peek of what’s inside your present.

“I love you. I literally love you with all my being,” he dramatically says as he squishes you.

“That’s my girlfriend, you idiot,” Donghyuck complains, pulling Jeno’s arms away from you. With the way you three are seated at the back of Renjun’s car, you sitting in between them, it’s uncomfortable and Donghyuck insists on taking part of the little moment you’re having with Jeno.

Jeno whines, “Let me love her. This is the best gift ever!”

Donghyuck ends up puffing air out of his mouth, pouting and leaning back so Jeno could hug you. You’re laughing and Jeno whispers how easily they could make him sulk these days because you’re around.

Mark, who’s sitting on the passenger seat beside Renjun, announces you’ve arrived at the amusement park, just as Jaemin’s car halts to a slow stop behind you.

It’s the first time you’ve ever visited the famous amusement park in Seoul, and Mark looks excited with the way he’s jumping as you line up for the tickets. Donghyuck has his arm around you, taking pictures with his other hand. The rest are chattering, talking about the rides they’d love to try.

The secretly group decides to stick together for the entire day to celebrate Jeno’s day, despite the birthday boy himself telling everyone they can go wherever they want to. You could see how much they really care about one another and they all just hide it in their mean, vile jokes. For example, the man who has his arm wrapped around you likes teasing Jeno like it’s his full-time job, but is hiding a birthday present inside the trunk of Renjun’s car (and would most likely give it before you all head home, act like his best friend’s birthday isn’t that much of a big deal).

Most of the day is spent following Jeno around, whatever ride he wanted to try and your ears ringing because of how loud Donghyuck is screaming. The temperature has gone from freezing cold to warm, the humidity making it a little harder for everybody to move around under the warmth of the sun.

“I never realized how much of a scaredy cat you are, Donghyuckie,” you tease as soon as you walk out of the roller coaster ride. “Not much of a tough guy now, huh?”

Donghyuck whines, “I liked you better when the words you spoke were only yes and no.”

Mark laughs, slapping Donghyuck on the back. “Oh man, that was really good.”

“Yeah?” You rebut. “And I liked you better when you weren’t screaming like a kid.”

Donghyuck smirks, “And I like you better when you’re screaming my name.”

Renjun and Jisung cough in disgust, and Mark just straight up slapped the back of Donghyuck’s head. “You two are disgusting. I can’t believe I live with you, Y/N.”

Donghyuck laughs, turning to you. “It’s pretty hot. Want me to go grab you a can of soda? Ice cold water?”

“Water, please,” you say. Donghyuck nods and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling Chenle with him and walking to the opposite side where a small shop is. In the meantime, the rest of you occupy the benches under a shade, Jeno asking which ride to go next.

Donghyuck and Chenle return in a matter of time, bottles of drinks in their hands. They give everyone their preferred drinks, Donghyuck sitting beside Mark and extending an arm so he could hand you your drink from his side.

“Fucking summer,” Donghyuck curses. “I hate summer.”

Renjun raises an eyebrow. “Suddenly?”

“It’s not even summer yet,” Jaemin points out. “What happened to you? You’ve always been so excited about summer.”

“It’s so hot. I can’t stand this fucking temperature,” Donghyuck mumbles.

Renjun scoffs. “You start planning our summer getaway as early as March.”

“It’s already April and you have nothing yet,” Jisung points out.

“Yeah, what the hell, man. I hate your ridiculous ideas, but we can’t survive summer without you,” Jeno adds, then looks at Mark. “Yo, Mark, what about you? What are you doing this summer?”

You and Mark freeze, looking at each other for a second, before the latter speaks for you both: “We’re, uh, we’re supposed to go home.”

It seems like Jeno didn’t know the weight of his question because he apologizes as soon as he realizes it. The group falls into silence, no one says anything, or perhaps nobody could think of anything to say, not even you or Mark.

With your days in Seoul numbered, you realize now that you haven’t really talked about it—not you and Mark, not you and Donghyuck—and it never really felt real. You had always told yourself you’ll cross the bridge when you get there, and the bridge is nearby.

Donghyuck clears his throat. “The sun’s going to kill me. I think I saw a burger joint that has an air-conditioning system down the corner of that street. Shall we go there?”

Everybody agrees and stand to leave. Donghyuck holds your hand, pulling you close and steals a kiss on your cheek. The gesture makes your heart flutter. Donghyuck is warm, but not in the way the sun is hot right now—in a way that gets you thinking: can this warmth reach Vancouver?

Your skin hurts when the sunlight hits you. You hate summer.

 오해 하지마 (ohae hajima) – Don’t misunderstand

Donghyuck had a face that looked like what an artist would draw in a whim—spontaneously—like it was done in a rush, like a portrait from a park done by a street artist, something done with a pencil. Ink stains are harder to wash off, and anyway, figments aren’t mean to last—and he’s almost unrecognizable in this light.

You can’t recognize him on the night of his birthday.

His Mother had gone above and beyond and invited all of their closest relatives and family friends for his 23rd birthday, and it’s also your first time meeting them.

It’s nerve-wracking to say the least, but his Mother smiles at you kindly when she greets you from the entrance of the restaurant they rented for the evening. You could tell his family was wealthy, and it makes sense because Donghyuck got the most bare minimum job he could find, and it’s most likely because he doesn’t need to get one; he probably only got one so he could talk about work, too, just like the rest of his friends.

The birthday party is a surprise and it was Renjun who connected with everyone to make sure they attend here tonight. You had to make up some excuse to Donghyuck when he asked why you can’t join him for dinner with his family tonight and had promised to make it up to him the day after.

You’re sat in the same table as Mark, Renjun, Jeno, and Jaemin, a bit far away from Donghyuck’s family’s table, as you wait for the birthday boy, your present sitting on top of the round table. Mark talks about his cat, letting Jaemin watch snippets of his pet from his phone, and Renjun is narrating a story about his “ridiculous and absurd encounter with Liu Yangyang (and you and Jeno can’t pass up the opportunity to tease him about it).

Then, someone comes sit beside Jaemin, the boys gasping when they see her.

Karina is beautiful, and even saying that isn’t enough to describe the woman’s beauty. Soft-spoken and brilliant, Karina naturally allows everyone to gravitate towards her. All, including yourself, are pulled like magnet when she arrived. Jeno introduces you and you allow yourself to throw a quick and inaudible “hello” when she reaches over and asks you how you are.

Donghyuck’s Mother almost screams when she sees Karina, excitement filling up the air as she hugs her and thanks her for attending.

“I wouldn’t miss Hyuckie’s birthday for the world, eommoni,” Karina answers, and before you could ask Renjun how she’s related to Donghyuck, Jisung, who’s seated in another table with Donghyuck’s younger siblings, announces that the birthday man himself has arrived.

Donghyuck enters the hall, surprised and happy when he sees everyone, a dramatic cry leaving his lips as everyone greets him happy birthday. He feigns complaint, whining that he’s no longer eight years old, but hugs his parents anyway.

His parents thank everyone for joining a precious day and celebrating their eldest son’s birthday with them. Donghyuck bows and starts to go around to thank people.

You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he finally reaches your table and he gives you small smile, hugging you quickly before moving on to the next person. You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he goes to Karina, lifting her as he hugs her tightly, and thanking her for being able to come. You don’t recognize Donghyuck when his Mother joins the little reunion and he laughs when his Mother jokes about them missing each other too much.

“She’s the one who left me all alone here in Seoul,” Donghyuck pouts. “We wouldn’t have missed each other this much if you had stayed!”

“Don’t be such a drama queen, Hyuckie,” Karina says, rolling her eyes. “You visited me in Tokyo literally six months ago.”

Six months ago, which means, it was right before you arrived in Seoul.

You want to be anywhere else but here, and you don’t want to listen any further, but the scenario runs like a comedy show and the punch line is you.

“You two better decide whatever the hell you want to do with your lives by the end of the year,” Donghyuck’s Mother comments. “I mean, no one’s stopping you from moving to Tokyo, Donghyuck. You and Karina can rekindle whatever light was burnt last year. I’m glad you stayed best of friends despite the long distance. You’ve always made a great couple.”

Your breath hitches like your lungs had just been punch. Donghyuck, it seems, finally remembers you’re watching this unfold. Mark holds you, and bless him because your legs feel like they’re about to give up. You and Donghyuck make eye contact, but you don’t recognize him at all.

“Eomma,” Donghyuck clears his throat. Everything else he’s said come out like a blur, and Mark is just holding you close.

“Don’t misunderstand,” Renjun whispers closely. “They’re just friends.”

You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he watches you leave.

천천히 말씀해 주세요 (chun-chun-hee mal-sseum-heh ju-seh-yo)  - Please speak slowly | 집 (jib) - home

Karina turns out to be the one that got away. The one true love. The greatest love. The childhood best friend who’s always been there. The leading woman. She turns out to be the protagonist in Donghyuck’s story.

You learn all of these from Renjun. Even when he refused to say a single word and had begged for you to talk to Donghyuck instead, you learn the truth by asking Mark to ask Renjun.

Donghyuck and Karina. Karina and Donghyuck. Two peas in a pod. A tight knit. Knowing each other like the back of their hands. A buy one, get one kind of deal. Where one is, the other would follow. And everyone and their moms know that it has always been like that, will always be like that.

Donghyuck and Karina, born on the same year, grew up in the same small village in Jeju island. Having been inseparable since, they ended up moving to Seoul together in high school. Donghyuck’s parents were supportive of Donghyuck pursuing a career in music, and they believed that moving to Seoul was the first step for their beloved son to find his spotlight. Karina’s parents, however, couldn’t afford moving alongside the Lee family despite wanting to support their daughter, too. Donghyuck begged his parents to have Karina move in with them so her parents would only worry about paying her tuition and allowances. The Lee family agreed, of course, because Donghyuck and Karina were fifteen, and they were the best team the world has ever known.

Karina is a talented dancer, and with a face like hers, it would be a shame to keep her in a small town in Jeju island. Her moving to Seoul had been the first step to her early success, because as soon as she reached puberty and had gained a butt and a pair of breasts, agencies were scouting her, creepily waiting for her outside of hers and Donghyuck’s high school. She’d declined, of course, with a promise to Donghyuck that they’d go to stardom together, but Donghyuck wanted to study and make music, and he felt as though he needed to go to college for that.

Karina eventually moved to another dormitory when she started training. Donghyuck moved downtown to start college. They were in different places, but they were still inseparable.

Pretty much every day Donghyuck would meet up with Karina when she started training; if not, then he’d be on Facetime with her during the hours when she’s not working. He had brought her to SNU many times, and they had started dating by the time Donghyuck is in his second year. All the other guys know Karina and her place in Donghyuck’s life. Somehow, a bitter part of you feels betrayed that none of them ever mentioned about Donghyuck’s great love, but you can’t really blame them for not saying anything.

They broke up on the latter months of last year because Karina had to move to Tokyo. There was no big fight apparently, just the decision that it’s most likely not going to work because—listen to this; this is the biggest punch line of this comedy show—Donghyuck can’t handle long distance.

You had answered one of Donghyuck’s calls by mistake. He’s mad for some reason, perhaps angry of the fact that you’re ignoring him and he doesn’t have much control like he normally does.

“Y/N, for fuck’s sake, why haven’t you answered?” he had cried out as soon as you answered.

“I was busy,” was all you could come up with. You brain had not been working good enough to translate things to Korean.

“What do you mean you were busy?” he had asked, voice loud and angry. “You literally disappeared on me! On my fucking birthday! And I’m done playing nice and cool because this is unfair. Whatever the fuck you’re doing is unfair you’re not letting me in. If you could just let me explain, things—”

“Please speak slowly.”

“—would be easier for the two of us. Whatever Karina and I had, it’s been over since last year. It’s over way before I met you. I never thought of her, not even for a goddamn second since we got together. I wouldn’t fucking betray you like that—”

“I can’t understand you.”

“—and I can’t believe you don’t trust me enough to let me at least tell you what happened! I never mentioned her because I never even thought about her! My Mother doesn’t know anything! I’ve wanted you to meet my Mother for a long time, but given our situation, a fucking time bomb ticking, I didn’t know if it was too early to go to that stage.”

“Time bomb?” you had asked, repeating the syllables slowly. “What’s that?”

Donghyuck sighed on the other line. “The thing that explodes at a predetermined time.”

“Oh, a time bomb,” you asked in English, chuckling. “That, we are.”

“Huh?”

“We’re a fucking time bomb,” you said, again in English, because if Donghyuck could keep talking in his mother tongue without considering if you’d understand a single word, so could you. “We’re ticking and we’re just waiting for this shit to explode. And I can’t wait and watch myself burn, Donghyuck. I can’t.”

“Please speak slowly,” he pleaded in Korean. You don’t.

“This isn’t going to work,” you responded, still in your mother tongue. “Maybe this is a clear sign for us, Donghyuck. Goodbye.”

Mark finds you crying on floor of your living, your back leaning on the feet of the couch, two weeks after Donghyuck’s birthday.

The first week, you had convinced your friends you were fine and that you just needed time. Donghyuck’s been reaching out to everybody, and Mark, being the best friend he is, lies regarding your whereabouts every time Donghyuck visits.

You don’t know how many calls Donghyuck had tried to make and how many text messages he’d left because you had completely abandoned your phone for the last couple of weeks and only relied on your computer to check any e-mails from your professors.

“I’m sorry,” Mark says, and you feel a rush of relief when he talks to you in English. You’ve had enough of Korean and Korean men these days. “It sucks, man. I don’t even know what to say. I’m so fucking disappointed with Donghyuck.”

“Shouldn’t you be more disappointed with me?” you sniffle. “I should have listened to you. We were moving too fast.”

Mark shakes his head, pulling you closer so that your head is resting on his shoulder. “I couldn’t blame you. Donghyuck’s charming, and I genuinely thought he was in love with you. I mean, I could say is, because I really think he’s sorry about everything.”

“We didn’t even get to properly break up,” you cry. “Our flight back home is in like, two weeks. I was supposed to talk to him and decide what we’d do with our relationship. For his birthday, I made a stupid mixtape that he could keep in his car and a very expensive and fucking cheesy set of touch lamps I found online for whenever he would miss me. And I keep making stupid letters like a fucking idiot so I could leave him with a bunch of poorly constructed letters just so he knows how much I’ll fucking miss him.”

Mark stays silent as you sob your heart out.

“And can you believe I actually thought it’d work?” you say, exasperated. “I’m so fucking sorry to myself. I’m just glad it’s over before I did shit I’d regret later on.””

“Shit like?” Mark asks.

You sigh, sniffling and screaming internally because the tears would stop. “I was already looking into internships here. For my last semester in college. I had already decided to decline the internship they were offering back home—thank God I haven’t sent that e-mail from my drafts—and I’ve found really good companies here. And if I’m lucky, I was thinking of moving here after college.”

Mark clicks his tongue. “All because of Donghyuck?”

“Because he feels like home, Mark,” you reason out. “He’s warm, and I can’t believe I’m admitting this now, but I love him. I love him so fucking much.”

“Oh, Y/N.”

“And we would have been happy. I would’ve done everything I could,” you confess. “And this fucking language barrier will be the death of me, but I would’ve learned more. I’d be an expert by the end of the year. And now, this whole Karina thing made me realize how much more I need to know about him.”

Mark holds you closer as though holding you would make things better. “When we were kids,” he starts. “Whenever I told you stories about how much I miss all the people I had to leave behind whenever we had to move from one country to another, one state to another, you’d always tell me to never build houses out of people.”

You remember. You always admired how Mark could move from one place to another, his suitcase and the ghost of the friendships he made following his trail, and he’s always told you about the loneliness it comes with.

“You used to tell me shelters aren’t supposed to be made of arms wrapped around you on a cold night, or hands that hold you when you’re feeling lonely,” he continues. “And I can’t blame you, because humans are known not to follow their own advice. But I hope you find home in things you’d never lose.”

You nod. “I’m sorry for breaking rule number three.”

“You’ll get over him,” he assures. “If you decide to really end things here, I mean. I’m sure you can get over him. It’s easier to get over people when you don’t see him.”

You nod, “Let’s go home, Mark.”

“Back home?”

You smile. “Yes. Back home.”

갈망 (galmang) - longing

It’s Giselle who picks you up from the airport.

You reunite like old friends, but Giselle really didn’t change that much. Even the weather didn’t change much. The same old. You wish you could say the same to yourself.

The flight to Vancouver was the most painful ten hours of your life, both literally and figuratively. It was hard watching your friends bid you goodbye, and you could tell they were dreading your departure as much as you and Mark were. Mark assures them you and him would save up to visit them again this year and as much as you’d wanted to stay, your student visa would allow you only six months. Mark promises he’d work on a tourist visa or whatever because despite being 100% ethnically Korean, but legally, he can’t just visit whenever he wants.

The pain from your breakup with Donghyuck is nothing compared to seeing Mark leave his friends again. You know how much they mean to him, and by extension, how much they mean to you regardless of what happened before your departure.

The head of student exchange program sends you warm greetings through text, followed by a series of messages from your friends and family. You’re glad Giselle had decided to pick you up from the airport, because you don’t think you’re in a good state to pretend like you’re okay, and Giselle knows.

Of course, she knows.

Giselle’s been your anchor during your last weeks in Seoul. Mark reckons that if anyone would understand you best during this time, it would be Giselle. After all, she’d gone through the same thing.

Like Mark, Giselle moved to Seoul with her parents for a few years. She had a similar experience with Mark, considering that her parents are constantly moving around—from Japan to South Korea then to Vancouver. Giselle was only in Seoul for two years before her parents moved back to Vancouver again, and in between those years she had met Kevin Moon, the love of her life.

They have been dating for almost four years now, two of those years, they dated long distance.

“How’d you make it work?” you had asked Giselle over Facetime once.

“It wasn’t perfect,” she admitted. “We broke up a couple of time because it was really difficult. And neither of us were willing to move for each other. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Kevin and I, we love each other. Truly we do. But I wouldn’t want to plant my entire life in Seoul for him. In the same manner, I don’t want him to move from Seoul to Vancouver for me when we both know for a fact that he’d be more successful in Korea than here. I guess, I don’t know, I don’t have an advice I could give you.”

“I’m not asking for advice,” you denied. “I mean. Donghyuck and I have only been dating for like, two weeks. I wouldn’t think that far at this time.”

Giselle had laughed at the other end of the line. “Let me tell you one thing, though.”

“Mhm.”

“It’s all a matter of choice,” she had said slowly, like she wanted to imprint the words to your brain. “Your heart isn’t made of diamonds. Your lungs aren’t made of steel. Somehow, inevitably, you’d grow tired—tired of timezones and how you never get the timing right, tired of not having someone to hug when you need it, tired of having to compromise—and it’s not an easy game.”

Giselle was smiling when she’d said the rest: “But Kevin is so worth it. I’ll grow tired of the baggage long distance comes with, but I don’t think I could live without him, you know? And it’s exaggerated, I know, and neither of us know what the future holds, but we’re choosing us. We chose to stay.”

It would have been beautiful, you think, if things worked out between you and Donghyuck. You would have written poems and prose in places about how you chose to stay. You would have learned about time zones and the best time to call, could have learned how to purchase the cheapest flight tickets to see each other, would have learned love and compromise together.

But you’re here, back in Vancouver, the voices of Mark and Giselle all blurred out from the backseat, and all you could think of is how much you miss Donghyuck.

예기치 않은 (yegichi anh-eun) - unexpected

The head of the student exchange program asks you to write an article about your experience in Seoul and gives you until the fall semester begins, just in time for the university’s own publishing house to produce this year’s school paper. You’re stuck at two hundred words and a stupid title Mark came up with: “Learning Languages”—and you’re thinking about withdrawing from that spot in the newspaper but Mark keeps calling you a heartbroken loser and you’re not about to let Mark Lee get the last word.

You’re eating cereal and watching an episode of Suits to prepare to write again (yes, a 30-minute preparation time is needed for such task) when someone knocks at your door.

You know how, in movies, the main character would see things in slow motion as soon as the love of their life enters the scene? That’s exactly what happens when you open the door and find Lee Donghyuck standing outside your dorm room, a too-large for his body backpack on one shoulder and his heart upon his sleeve.

미안해 (mianhae) – I’m sorry | 사랑해 (saranghae) – I love you

“I’m sorry,” are the first words that Lee Donghyuck comes up with, and truthfully are the words you needed to hear from him. He says it in his mother tongue and you feel his heart in his voice.

“Mark?” you ask, knowing full well it’s Mark who helped him.

“Yes but no,” he answers. “He said he’d only give me your address but he’s not picking me up or helping me. My flight landed literally six hours ago and I’ve been looking for you since.”

Donghyuck sits across you on the small table you own inside your small room. His backpack is sitting on his feet and his shoulders are slumped. Donghyuck allows himself to look small compared to all the times you were with him.

“Y-you look good,” he comments, eyes glued on you. “I’m glad you’re healthy, at least.”

“You, too,” you mumble. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Water would be fine, please and thank you.” You reach over to hand him a bottle. “And who are you kidding? I look awful.”

He does. He looks exactly what he said he had done to get here. Look for you for six hours after a ten-hour flight from Incheon. Donghyuck downs the bottle of water. Poor guy probably hasn’t eaten.

“Why are you here, Donghyuck?” you ask as soon as he’s done drinking.

Donghyuck clears his throat. “I don’t really know what I want out of this trip.”

You keep your arms crossed over your chest.

“And I’m not about to beg you to take me back,” he continues. “I just wanted to explain. I just want you to know what happened. I can live without you, but I can’t live with you thinking I had betrayed you.”

“Donghyuck, there’s really no need to explain. Renjun has told Mark all I needed to know.”

“No, let me say it please. I spent a fortune to come here, and I’m going to make you listen if it’s the last thing I’d do. After this, I’ll leave. I have a ticket back home tomorrow, and I’ll leave.”

Ridiculous. Who would spend a fortune on a set of roundtrip tickets only to leave a day after? Of course, only Lee Donghyuck.

“Karina and I go way back,” he says. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. And she’s not someone I could just get rid of just because our relationship didn’t work out. We’re better off as friends, and that’s a fact we had come to learn when we tried dating. And it was painful, but I couldn’t lose her just because we didn’t know how to date, how to play boyfriend and girlfriend to each other. That’s the first thing I need you to understand.”

“Like I don’t know that already?” you remark sarcastically.

“Karina is a part of me.” Shit’s painful.

“But now like how you are a part of me.”

Oh.

“She’s my best friend, almost like a sister now, and my parents care about her,” he continues. “It was a mistake that we even tried to date just so we could relate to everyone dating everybody. It almost ruined us, and Karina and I, we can’t afford to lose each other just because of that. The person who I am now, part of it is because of Karina. But Y/N, the person I’m about to become, I want it to be because of you.”

He clears his throat again. You look at the bottle of water he finished drinking because you really can’t look at Donghyuck now. Not when he’s vulnerable and out in the open. Not when he’s exactly the way he was when you fell in love with him.

“And I had plans. For the long run,” he says like a promise. “I had started looking up how to get a tourist visa to Canada and how to get you a tourist visa to Korea. I’ve been saving all my allowances and the money I’ve been earning from work so I could book a ticket to Vancouver for the summer and spend it with you. And I was supposed to tell Mom, but I haven’t had the chance yet—that one I have no excuse for. But the timing was off and she met you before I could tell her. She had no idea and she’s genuinely sorry she made it seem like she wanted me to end up with Karina. If she had known I was already in love with someone else, she wouldn’t have said that in front of you. She would have loved you.”

Donghyuck pauses. You look up to see him wiping his tears from his cheeks. “And I’m sorry that the timing didn’t go well for us, but I promise you I had plans. I just didn’t want to spend the rest of your weeks in Seoul thinking about you being gone as soon as the semester is over. I wanted to seize the moments with you and make you—I wanted to make you feel that I love you.”

Your breath hitches. Donghyuck locks eyes with you.

“I love you. I love you and I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I didn’t,” he confesses, bursting into tears and you do, too. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t try hard enough to make you stay. I’m so sorry that I talked to fast that time I finally got you to answer my call; I should’ve explained more calmly. I’m so sorry that we’re here, in Vancouver, hearts broken. But I love you, and I wish I could say all of these in English if that’s what would make you believe it’s real and it’s true.”

But he doesn’t have to.

“I love you,” you say in your mother tongue before switching to Korean. “I love you. And I know you love me. And I’m so sorry for jumping to conclusions and not trying hard enough. Just like you, I had plans to. For the long run. And I can live without you, too, but I can’t live without you knowing how much I love you.”

Donghyuck giggles through his tears and reaches out both hands to wipe off yours. “Let’s not live without each other.”

It’s him to moves, standing a little, so he could kiss you.

The kiss says everything the language barrier can’t. I love you. I missed you. I’m sorry. This is everything I’ve ever wanted. You are everything I’ve ever wanted.

Donghyuck spends the night tracing your body with his mouth like he’s writing a love song and he needs to taste you first before he could write the first melody. You spend the night underneath Donghyuck’s love, whispering his name like praise, taking, taking, taking everything he’s giving you.

You wake up to arms around you and the love of your life kissing the back of your neck. You and him spend the entire day (or at least, the seven hours he had until he had to take the flight back home) talking about your plans and making a list of thing you have to talk about over the phone, but today, you’re taking him out on a date under the warm, sunny skies of Vancouver.

And you do. You and Donghyuck have the best day ever together. Donghyuck gives you the other pair of the touch lamp you’d given to him as a birthday present—you’d forgotten you left it when you ran off; you were supposed to watch him open it so you could show him how it works—and makes you promise to touch the lamp whenever you missed him. He thanks you for the mixtape and confesses he cries whenever he plays it inside his car. He also gives you your small notebook of learning languages back (because you had dramatically left it to Renjun before you boarded the plane), saying you’d need it again.

Mark refused to come because he wants you and Donghyuck to talk and spend the day creating a game plan to make your relationship work. At the end of the hours you had with him, you don’t come up with a solid game plan.

Because Giselle was right, after all, it all comes down to the choices you make. There was no formula on how a long-distance relationship would work. Neither you nor Donghyuck had survived one, but you knew one thing:

Today, you and Donghyuck choose each other.

It’s only the beginning, it seems.

The sun is out and bright when Donghyuck boards the plane.

It’s a lot warmer than the rest of the year, but you don’t really mind.

[cherryobx]

Turn up the music okay any fletcher song for rafe but these two together undrunk and bitter

Undrunk and Bitter

a/n: love both of these songs sm!

pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

summary: you and Rafe broke up but some feelings still linger

warnings: suggestive themes, language

wc: 1.4k

How long will it take for your feelings for someone to go away? How long does it take to stop loving someone? Even if that someone is so bad for you.

You and Rafe broke up almost a month ago and you feel like every day is worse than the last. At first it was easy. You cried, got all of your sadness and anger out of your body. But then arrived the longing and loneliness. 

You miss him. You miss waking up in the same bed, his arms around you. You miss going on dates with him. You miss him giving a ride on the back of his bike. The little things.

But the relationship between you ate you up inside. You loved him but also knew you deserved better. You deserved more. That’s why you broke up with him. It was probably the hardest decision of your life. Because where do you find the strength to let go of the person you love more than anyone else?

“I can’t watch you mope around anymore.” Your friend Grace sits at the edge of your bed where you’re currently lying, staring at the ceiling deep in thought.

“Top’s throwing a party tonight. We’re going.”

You know you don’t have the energy to go but you also don’t have the energy to argue with her. And that’s how you end up at Topper’s house a couple of hours later.

You know he’s here even though you haven’t spotted him yet. Rafe. You can feel it in your bones. 

“I’m gonna get a drink,” you tell Grace who’s engaged in a conversation with Kelce about who knows what and she dismisses you with a wave. 

You sigh and try to find your way to the kitchen. Passing the living room, you see Rafe on the couch with a pretty girl on his lap. His eyes meet yours for a second before someone addresses him and he turns his attention to them.

Yeah, you definitely need a drink now.

How is it so easy for him to move on? It makes you wonder how much you really meant for him. How much the relationship and later the break up affected him. Did you really mean so little to him?

You finally find the kitchen. The counters are filled with various types of alcohol ranging from light stuff to hard liquor. You head for the latter. You down shot after shot and soon enough you feel your head start slowly spinning and your worries floating away. It feels nice. It helps you forget about him for a second.

“Rough night?”

You turn around and some guy is leaning against the counter, a red solo cup in his hand.

“You could say that.” You give him, what must be, a sad smile.

“What’s got you drinking like that?” he asks as he scoots closer and takes a sip of his drink.

“Life.”

“Fair enough.” He laughs. “I’m Trevor.”

“To you, Trevor.” You salute him and take another shot, grimacing at the taste of vodka in your mouth. He offers his drink as a chaser and you happily take it and down that too.

You introduce yourself to him and the conversation starts flowing. The alcohol keeps flowing too. Soon enough his hands are everywhere at once and you’re making out in the secluded hallway.

It feels nice. You feel wanted again. You haven’t felt that way in a while and crave it more than anything. There’s a little voice in the back of your head that keeps nagging at you that it’s wrong to use someone to get over Rafe. But it feels so good and you can’t help but want more.

“Y/n.” You’d recognize that voice anywhere. Rafe.

You break away from Trevor and see him approaching. His fists are balled and even the way he walks indicates that he’s angry.

“Get the fuck away from her,” he snarls.

“But-”

“Step the fuck back!” 

Trevor backs up with his hands raised in defeat.

“Walk away.” Rafe instructs him and he doesn’t argue. So much for that.

“Are you okay?” he asks almost softly, his hands on your upper arms on both sides of your body.

You shove him away. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What the fuck is wrong with me? You’re the one hooking up with strangers in the fucking hallway.”

“So? You can swap spit with girls all night but I can’t do the same?”

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’? We broke up, Rafe. I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

“You’re drunk. You’re not thinking clearly. Let me take you home.” He takes a step closer but you take one simultaneously back.

“Fuck you. I’m thinking more clearly than I have in a while. Why can you move on but I can’t?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m not moving on anywhere with anyone.”

“You’re trying to tell me you didn’t fuck that pretty thing before you came here? Nice try. I need space from you, Rafe.”

“First of all, I haven’t fucked anyone since we broke up. Second, I’m taking you home.”

“Yeah right. I don’t believe you. She was all over you.”

“Like that guy was all over you?”

You shut your mouth. “That’s none of your business.”

“It is. You’re still my business whether you like it or not. Now, you can come with me willingly or I will physically drag you out of here.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” You cross your arms on your chest and stand your ground, which in a literal sense is difficult because you’re too drunk for your own good.

“Stop being difficult.”

“No.”

He sighs before he makes a quick move of picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder. You’re like a sack of flour. Absolutely helpless and pathetic.

“Put me down!” You hit his back with your fists but that does nothing to help. He’s unaffected.

“I’m gonna throw up all over you,” you threaten. It’s actually a real possibility due to the fact that your head is furiously spinning and you can’t make your left from your right.

“I don’t care.”

People stare at him weird as he carries you through the house, while you’re kicking and screaming, to the driveway where his car is parked.

Very surprisingly to everyone around Rafe, he’s sober tonight. He didn’t plan on staying sober but when he saw you enter Topper’s yard through the living room window his heart made the decision for him.

He drops you in the passenger seat and buckles you up before walking to the driver’s side and hopping into the seat. In the few seconds he was outside the car you managed to unbuckle your seatbelt but he pulls it across your body again and locks the doors so you can’t escape. 

“I hate you,” you snarl at him and cross your arms once again, angling your body towards the car door on your side.

“Don’t care.” He backs out of the driveway and starts driving towards your house.

You rest your head against the cool window of the car and stare at the passing scenery. 

“Why do you care so much?” you ask.

“What?” He looks at you for a second before turning his gaze back towards the road ahead of him.

“Why do you care?”

“About what?”

“About me. We broke up and here you are, taking me home after cockblocking me.”

He scoffs. “I can’t stop caring about you overnight, Y/N. That’s not how it works. And even if I wanted to I couldn’t.”

“You looked like you could. Plenty of girls throwing themselves at you. Take your pick.”

“I don’t want any of them.”

The rest of the ride passes in silence. He helps you out of the car, into your house and to your bedroom. He even tucks you under the covers. 

“Why don’t you want other girls? You can, you know.” 

He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead which makes you instantly close your eyes for a moment of bliss. For a second, you’re thrown back in time when you were together and he used to kiss you goodnight every single night, even if it meant driving over from his place to yours to do so.

“I’m waiting.”

“For what?”

“For you to love me again.”

You open your mouth but no words come out.

“If you remember this in the morning, text me. We’ll talk.” With that he stands up, turns off the lights and leaves, softly closing the door after him.

[grapejuicestyless]

Wishes Do Come True

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summery: It was just a legend, something out in place to make people believe in something that couldn’t be true. But when fate has its way, JJ learns that sometimes, wishes do come true. CONTAINS SEASON 4 SPOILERS!!!

Ryan shot the gun first. He shot it because Ward was charging at him, his teeth bared and his arms spread wide. How fitting that he would go out as a somewhat decent father, a man who took three bullets and threw himself over a cliff to save his daughter and her Pogue best friends.

JJ remembers the feeling of the earth bending beneath his feet as he practically sprinted over to the edge, looking down past his feet to see where the Kook and the henchman lay. JJ thought it was strange, how someone could be so crumpled up, he knew bones weren’t made to bend that way, so seeing the way his body twisted made him a little sick.

He can hear Sarahs soft cries and echoing hiccups clearly, how Kiara seemed to grab onto herself to steady her breathing. He remembers seeing how tightly John B’s arms were woven around Sarah’s body, as if he were afraid she would jump next, as if her body could save his. There was no saving that, as sick as it was.

But what he really remembers, is the softness of her voice calling out for him, the way her voice shook like it was hard to get out. Only then did the sounds of his friends stop ringing in his ears, and through some champagne party effect, he could focus in on just the quietness of her. Only then did he realize as he tried to wrap his arm around thin air that she wasn’t at the ledge.

A stray bullet, it’s a funny thing. The shots fire, four, the last four bullets the man has, and only three reach the sacrificial lamb. The last one reaches one of the seven targets behind it.

Her hands shook over her upper stomach, gripping her skin just below her ribs. Even with a shaky focus, he could see the tint of red beginning to seep past her once light blue nails, now chipped and digging into the cloth of her shirt.

“JJ, I…I don’t…” She stumbled forward, her eyes flickering from his to some distant thing over his shoulder. She could barely focus her vision. He remembers the weight of her head hitting his shoulder as he caught her, the feeling of an extra warmth seeping into his own clothes, something wet and sticky that shouldn’t be drenching the two of them, but was.

“No, no, no. Come on cupcake, come on.” He gritted his teeth, trying to hold her up, but his need to keep her up was wavering at the look of agony on her face. She laid in his lap, his hand holding hers as they both pressed down on the wound, though, it was no use because they had no way home, and the nearest hospital wasn’t for miles. They had no idea where to even begin to search for one in the middle of all the greenery.

JJ rambled in a panic, a habit he’d always done, but she couldn’t make sense of it anymore. Her hearing was fuzzy and her vision came in and out in waves of darkness. She tried to look at her friends, but her eyes wouldn’t tear themselves away from her best friend’s face.

She had just gotten him, their love was still brand new, discovered on an island they were sure they would never find again. It was barely a month since they had shared a kiss under the stars, one both had been dreaming of for years. They went back and forth for what felt like centuries and now none of it mattered, because JJ was holding his love in his arms as she helplessly spat up blood and tried to focus on the blue of his eyes and not the tears on his face.

“It’s gonna be okay, you just gotta fight, you can fight. You fucking…” JJ broke out into a bitter laugh, one he didn’t mean as his palms messily wiped away the blood that trickled down her jaw. Red smeared everywhere, sticking to every crease in his skin. It burned, and so he kept smiling because his laughter, as disingenuous as it was, brought a weak smile to her face. “You saved my life, when I fell off that boat. You kept me alive, and I’m gonna keep you alive, so don’t give up on me.”

The sight of the tears finally spilling from her pretty eyes would forever haunt JJ, because he knew as her chest caved in against his lap, that the pain was too great to make her stay and suffer through, when they both knew she was as good as dead as soon as the gun was fired.

“It doesn’t hurt so bad anymore.” She had told him weakly, the initial throbbing turning into an intense burning, a mix of the powder and the blood that pooled around her, soaking his skin through his pants.

“N-no, come on baby…baby, cupcake, please.” He pleaded. “I love you, please.”

Her ears seemed to clear at his heavy confession, and a sweet smile, the sweet smile he had fallen for back in the third grade, graced her pretty, tired face one last time.

“I love you JJ.” She promised, blinking back the tears. Somehow, she found the strength to lift his hand from her wound and press her bloodied lips to his sticky palm.

He had to watch the way her eyes fluttered shut, one last choked breath that sounded similar to what Pope would later explain as death rattle breathing, escaped her mouth, and that sweet little smile faded into nothing as she laid dead in her best friends arms.

JJ was never quite the same after that. He still loved his friends, he was still reckless and loud and impulsive, but he seemed to do it all for her.

When they won their money finally, he thought of all the things he would’ve bought for her, all the beaches they could’ve surfed across. When he finally found a place to call home, he placed her pillow on her side of his bed, fluffed it up for her and swore some nights he could feel her head resting on his heavy chest.

He thought of how much she would have loved Poguelandia 2.0. It was bittersweet to see the flag because all he could think of was their first kiss under the white flag that waved proudly above them.

He missed their matching P4L stick and pokes, he hated that he had to look at his forever and know it no longer matched with anyone. He hated that everyone else around him had someone to lean on, a lover to come home to, when he knew he would never be able to love again. But most importantly, he hated how young she was. She was only nineteen.

John B told him it wasn’t about the time we had with those we have lost, but what we make of it, but JJ was too angry to care. He didn’t care, it was easy for John B to say when he had lost a best friend, but JJ had lost so much more.

He wore her charm bracelet on his wrist, even though it was tight and caused a lot of noise. He loved the charms on them because they were old and made of clay and they matched his rings and necklace. She made them when they were ten because they were too young for their tattoos.

He swore to never go after treasure again, he couldn’t risk it, but with the promise of a singular wish, JJ followed along like a duckling to Morocco, blood on his shirt and a new father to betray him.

“You know, they say the crown grants a wish.” Kiara broke the silence between them in the heat one day, looking up at the sky to avoid the awkwardness of eye contact. She didn’t have to ask to know he would wish for her back in a heartbeat, but she did anyway because truthfully she liked the way JJ talked about her. It made her feel like her best friend was still alive.

“Yeah?” JJ scoffed with a smirk. “What would you wish for?” He asked, leaning over the unstable ledge, bricks dusty and the cement breaking apart. It wobbled under his forearms.

“I’m not saying I believe it but…I’d wish to go back in time maybe. I’d try not to rush into everything.” She said calmly, her eyes finding JJ’s.

“What about you?” She asked softly, and JJ hummed.

“The thing about wishes is, they don’t come true if you say them.” Kiara laughed breathily at his words.

“Yeah?” She questioned for confirmation.

“Yeah.” He breathed out. “And I really want this one to come true.”

That phrase, “be careful what you wish for,” was made for people like JJ Maybank.

There’s this old game called “Monkeys Paw” that Y/n and JJ both loved when they were younger. One person would make a wish, and the goal of the game was to make that person regret that wish.

They would stay up for hours laughing about it.

If JJ wished for a pizza, the pizza was poisoned. If Y/n wanted a dog, it was rabid. They’d spend hours at a time waking up the neighbors just laughing at how outrageous they could make the faults.

Now that they were older, and now that Y/n was gone, JJ seemed to forget about the rules of the game.

He stumbled back, all air caught in his throat. He lost the crown, and he’d lost his girl, and now, here his biological father was with a knife twisted deep into his abdomen, pulling it out with a sickening crunch.

Kiara pleaded for him to keep fighting, her hands on the wound in a way that reminded him of the way he desperately pressed against Y/n’s all those weeks ago. Her cries were just as desperate, and they were just as fuzzy.

JJ now felt thankful he let her go peacefully, because living through the pain was insufferable, and he knew it would have been cruel to make her fight it any longer.

He cried a little, but he wasn’t sad. No, he was happy, even as Kiara screamed for Pope and John B, begging for help that would do no good because just like his precious Y/n, there was no way home and no help in sight.

He let out a hiccup, and his eyes focused on her brown ones as his vision cleared for a moment, the sting turning into a familiar burn.

“Kie, I never told you my wish.” He smiled, and she shook her head.

“No, Jayj, come on, you gotta fight it. I can’t lose you too.” She pleaded, and it was like he wasn’t even listening as he kept choking out words.

“I already got what I wished for.” He smiled.

All he ever wanted was a home, and though every sacred place he ever had to call that were short lived and destroyed, he had found it in the people who loved him, and the people he loved.

JJ wished for so much more than anyone thought, and he’d gotten all of it.

He had you at one point, and he was eternally grateful for every hug he ever received from your loving arms. He had Pope and John B, who made him laugh like no one else ever could, his ribs sore and his stomach shaking. Kiara and Sarah kept him grounded. He was grateful for how much they cared, how safe he felt around them. He knew he would miss his best friends more than anything else, he would miss them like family, because thats what they were.

The Pogues were his family, and his family was his home.

JJ wished for one last thing with the crown as the darkness took him. He slipped away from his body, his head lulling to the side as Kiara shook him, but he wasn’t there anymore, and he wasn’t afraid because there she was.

Kneeling beside Kiara and she didn’t even know, there she was, her sweet smile and her pretty eyes. She was holding both Kiara’s hand, and his hand, nothing more than wind to them on the ground, but now JJ could see her, and now he could hold her.

“Y/n? Cupcake?” He breathed out with a smile, the luckiest man in the world, even if his toes didn’t physically touch the dirt or the sand anymore.

“Jay…” She smiled back, a sweet sound falling past her lips, and it was simply half of his name.

As his arms wrapped around her tightly, his nose buried into her shoulder. It felt good to know that he would never have to let her go again, and that someday, his friends would have the same pleasure of holding him again too.

JJ’s wish had been a little greedy, because in addition to what he was already granted, he wished to be with Y/n again.

He guess he never really specified how but hey, wishes really do come true.