#lost friends because i kept defending him

[autistook]

CW: manip. past relationship, SA

Tonight on remembering my past traumas, here are some lovely things my ex boyfriend said to me because I need them out of my system:

- Admitted he thinks I'm a whore (I showed some thigh in a photo on instagram)

- I want my ex back

- But I want you

- *slurs*

- She had better x than you

- But I love you more

- But I love her more

- I wouldn't cheat on you

- Sorry I led a double life for a year, I never dumped my ex like I told you

- I want to break up

- Nvm I wanna be together

- I kinda want her tho

- You're making that up

- I never said that

- I didn't mean it like that

- Although I did mean it in a worse way

- Its not because of you

- But I did stop having sex with you because you gained weight

- Your weight gain doesn't bother me

- You're not my type, tattoos, piercings....

- But I want to be with you

- I want children

- But I don't want them with you

- You're not as pretty as my ex

- I dont know if I wanna be with you

- Stop gaslighting me (I called him out on his behavior)

- I want you more than anyone

- I never said that (100x during our relationship)

- Your friend is a whore (has a vivid sex life, but shes a woman so its different than if it was a man)

- You had sex while we were broken up? Whore (mind you, this was while he had a whole ass girlfriend in another city and he led a double life)

- I'm sorry, I didn't think you would mind (for filming me without permission during)

- Its hot (keeping folders of every convo and picture and secret picture he has taken of me or any other exes when i found out)

- Lie part 2939383920

- Everything okay? "Mhmmm *crying*." Alright. *snores* (after I said no, I'm tired from work and he forced me anyway.

And many more. Thanks, had to get this out of my system tonight. If he ever reads this, fuck you <3

// edit ah yes forgot to add these following ones:

- Ideally I would be with the both of you so I could have both good qualities

- *crying* YOURE NEVER GONNA TRUST ME AGAIN (yeah, i ended up comforting him after he cheated on ME)

- told me he sees me as his property and object

[crookedfandomquill]

This is very situational, and sadly may not be realistic for everyone, but I need y’all to understand that a very important part of political activism is fucking talking to your conservative or moderate friends and family.

My dad voted for Trump in 2016. He’s a middle class white evangelical from Arkansas. He raised me with conservative Christian values, just like his parents raised him. When he voted Trump, he was holding his nose, but he didn’t feel too bad about it, and went on to vote red down the ticket in the 2018 midterms, as well.

But I started college in 2017. Higher education and independence changed everything for me, and I went home over holidays and summers with fire in my belly and a thousand arguments ready at the drop of a hat, to my father’s dismay.

I remember crying in my room after emotional, intense arguments with him. I told him over and over that I felt betrayed by his choice to vote for a man who admitted to sexually assaulting women, who built his platform on dehumanizing immigrants and the disabled, who spread overtly-racist rhetoric, who flouted the values of kindness and self-discipline that I’d been raised on. And my dad always had some justification about the “greater good”: fighting against abortion, bolstering the economy, getting other Christian politicians into office.

But over time, as we grew further apart and I lost my will to discuss anything with him at all, he softened. He started asking me why I thought the way I did about the things we disagreed about. He would listen to my answers without interruption, and mull them over afterward instead of expressing his own opinion. And all the while, he watched the Trump presidency become cruel and absurd and devastating.

The first time he openly expressed regret to me, I had come home for a weekend after Kavanaugh was confirmed to SCOTUS. My dad realized he had helped elect a man who preyed on women… and that man had opened the door to more predators. I can’t tell you what it felt like for him to admit that he’d made a mistake, not just in voting for Trump but in defending him for so long. We kept arguing, but it was more debating than fighting. I knew he was capable of seeing my side of things, even if it took a while, and he knew I wasn’t just a sensitive college student with shallow new ideas about the world.

And then 2020 hit. Specifically, George Floyd was murdered, and the events that followed played out on the national stage. My dad was incredibly shaken by it. He asked me if I had any books from college about racial issues. I loaned him The New Jim Crow, one of the required readings for my Race and the Law class. Then I gave him Just Mercy. Then he watched the documentary 13th. Then he joined a racial harmony group he learned about through one of the few Black families at our church and insisted our whole family come. He held up signs at a protest against Confederate monuments in our conservative southern town. In three years, he went from defending Trump’s comments about “Black-on-Black crime” to publicly advocating for racial justice and opposing the death penalty.

We went together to vote in the 2020 primaries. I couldn’t help asking who he’d voted for; I didn’t even know if he’d asked for the Republican or Democratic ticket. He admitted he’d voted for Bernie. fucking. Sanders, then made me promise not to tell my grandma he’d voted liberal. When the election rolled around in November, he voted Biden. I’m sure he held his nose to do it, just like he held his nose voting in 2016. But I know he doesn’t regret it.

I am, of course, unbelievably lucky to have a parent who loved me enough, and was empathetic enough, to choose his relationship with me over his strongly-held opinions. He kept searching for truth because, as much as he’ll deny it, he’s a very smart and curious person. No degree of intelligence or curiosity makes you immune to propaganda, especially if you were raised not to question the party line. It’s easy to dismiss our conservative, conspiracy-pilled loved ones as stupid, hypocritical, and cruel. Sometimes they are. But sometimes they aren’t. Sometimes they will bend to keep their relationships from breaking. Sometimes, if they can be made to understand that their beliefs and actions are harming someone they love, they will make concessions. And sometimes they just need one person in their life to put a foot down, to be vulnerable and assertive and argumentative, to bring the impact of their politics close to home.

As the most important election of our lifetimes approaches, do not put peace over progress. If you have someone like my dad, someone who is good-willed and smart and loves you more than their own opinions, tell them how you feel. Tell them what their choices will mean for you, for your friends, for your community. Tell them what they could lose: your trust, your affection, your respect. Don’t avoid conflict if it could be productive. Because my conflict with my dad didn’t just win him over–it won over my moderate mom and one of my conservative brothers. And it put us in community with other like-minded people and led my parents to a healthier and kinder faith.

All of this to say, there is hope in conflict. There is hope in our relationships with people who think differently from us. There is hope in exposing your fear and anger and pain to people you love. And hope is a form of activism.

[cordeliawhohung]

need mafia!simon and shy!reader pda stuff in the club and out in public

you know what anon, i need this too. in this little shot we're gonna pretend simon and reader have been together for a bit. also i went to extreme pda and made them almost fuck hope that was okay lmao

mafia!141 masterlist

warnings: HEAVY pda, a bit of sexual tension, but mostly fluff, a little smooch, Simon can't keep his hands off of you, reader is an anxious sweetheart

How you kept ending up in a place such as John Price's club was beyond you, and frankly a bit concerning. It was the last place in the entire world that you wanted to be due to how crowded, loud, and terrifying it was, yet be it because of your friend, or Simon Riley, you always made your way back there for one reason or another.

That night wasn't much different than any of the other times you had been there, and maybe you should have been grateful for the fact that the club was at least a little predictable. What wasn't predictable, though, was your boyfriend. Out of anyone you had ever met, he was a wildcard, which both intrigued and scared you at the same time. Always keeping things interesting, he was rather sporadic which was nice and yet the single greatest cause for your anxiety in most cases.

"A little more to the right," Simon prompted.

No matter where you were at, if there was a pool table, Simon was able to find it. You noticed that he always kept his hands moving like he was hardly ever able to sit still, be it checking something on his phone, or holding your hand. Pool seemed to be his drug of choice, though, which of course meant that you would always end up playing with him, where he would mercilessly beat you in every single round.

"Like this?" you asked.

"Tad too much. There, now shoot."

Despite his guidance, the tip of your cue grazed the side of the ball which sent it spinning too far to the left. Huffing, you straightened yourself up as you watched it clumsily bounce against the sides of the table before eventually coming to a stop.

"Yikes," you muttered.

"Thanks for lining up my shot for me, sweetheart," Simon teased.

Just like the last two rounds, Simon wrangled yet another triumphant win for himself as he knocked his last three balls into the pockets before slamming the last eight ball along with them. By that point you weren't even disappointed when you lost as you were very much used to it. Your boyfriend, however, never seemed to get used to how much he enjoyed gloating after each win.

"Another round?" he suggested.

"I think it'd be more efficient if you played by yourself at this point," you sighed as you rested your cue against the table.

Mirroring your actions, Simon rested his cue next to yours before he put his hands on your hips. You weren't prepared for how quickly your mouth would run dry, and you found your eyes blinking rapidly as you stared up at him. His touch was warm, it always was, or maybe you just thought it was because it always felt like your organs were boiling whenever he even so much as looked at you. But there were so many people around, too many people around.

"Bein' a sore loser, are we?" he teased.

It took a moment for the words to form in your mouth, like his touch had completely reset your brain. Eventually, your hands came up to rest on his chest as if attempting to keep some modest space between the two of you.

"Simon, there- there are people around," you said as you anxiously glanced around the area. The VIP bar had less people than any other area in the building, but there were still too many eyes for your comfort.

"What about it?" he asked. His thumbs began to glide along your hips, desperately trying to feel the softness of your skin through the fabric of your pants.

"Someone's gonna see," you defended.

Nothing you said seemed to deter Simon from his task. His hands continued to paw at your hips as his own pushed you against the pool table, trapping your legs as his head lowered into the crook of your neck. You could feel the embarrassment boil just underneath your skin, and your fingers gripped his shirt so tightly you worried it would rip.

"Let 'em see," he said, lips grazing against your neck. "They can mind their damn business if they care so much."

"Simon, seriou-!"

Your words were cut off with a squeak as he effortlessly lifted you up and sat you on the edge of the table. His hips nestled between your thighs and you were infinitely grateful that you hadn't worn a dress that time around. Still, no matter how grateful you were, it didn't change your precarious situation.

"Trust me, sweetheart," he assured you while his hands began to wander up towards your waist, "no one cares."

Every brush of his fingers and hands against you sent shivers throughout your body. It was the strangest feeling ever, enjoying his touch and yet feeling ashamed about it at the same time. Too many prying eyes, glances not actually meant for you but ones your brain convinced you were malicious. Maybe if you were stronger, more confident, more brave, you could have actually enjoyed the moment instead of worrying so much about it.

"I care," you blurted out.

Once those words left your mouth Simon's hands ceased in wandering over your waist. He slowly moved away from your neck and leaned back to look at you, where you found his expression was much softer than you had anticipated it to be. He was handsome all the time, but even more so when he looked at you like that; like you were the only person in the whole world.

With your hands still gripping the fabric of his shirt, you yanked hard on it and pulled him close enough until your lips crashed together. Everything in your brain screamed for you to stop, that people were around, that they'd think you were a freak, but it was as if something had possessed you. Surprised, but not at all upset, Simon returned his hands back to your waist as he moved his lips against yours.

To your surprise, it was actually Simon who pulled away first, and he was not at all trying to hide the slight smirk on his lips. You blinked a few times to clear your mind before you found one of your hands reaching out for your cue stick.

"A-Another round?" you asked.

Simon tilted his head to the side and you watched as a short chuckle rippled through his chest and shoulders. He reached for his own cue before taking a step back and allowing you to slide off of the table.

"I'll go easy on you this time," he claimed.

While he set the table up you stood watching him with a hand over your chest. Your heart pulsed so powerfully in your rib cage you were certain your pulse was visible in your throat. Still, you tried to shake off that trembling feeling of excitement that coursed through your body while you pretended your hands weren't struggling to hold your cue stick due to your sweaty palms.

i thought about having simon make a joke about bending you over and fucking you on the table and everyone else could just deal with it but i thought that might've been too much so i went for something a bit more fluffy instead lmao. also requests are open again so feel free to send in some if you have any ideas (:

[unluckiestmember]

can I get the main characters of blue eye samurai with a innocent fem reader? I loved your Arcane innocent reader <3

Coming right up!

Blue Eye Samurai X Innocent Fem! Reader

Characters: Mizu, Taigen, Ringo and Ito Akemi

Tags: Friends to lovers, workers to lovers, brothel, overprotective boyfriend/girlfriend, yandere themes, Ringo being Ringo, fluff, toxic(?) and open ending.

Warning: SFW

A/N: I'm so happy Blue Eye Samurai is getting the recognition it deserves! Who would you date? I'd get with Mizu or Taigen.

Mizu

“The stars are out tonight?... I can barely see them… It’s okay. At least I can see you… You’re beautiful…”

At first, Mizu found you to be as annoying like Ringo. You weren’t as annoying, but it was infuriating to travel with someone who was so fragile and couldn’t even defend themselves. She was surprised that with your demeanor you weren’t in a brothel or married to the next idiot of a samurai. She kept you at a distance, arm's length. But someway. Somehow. You slithered into her good graces and touched her heart.

When you two became a couple, Mizu began to treat you like a porcelain doll. If a man tried to touch you, their hand would be severed from their body in seconds. If someone bad-mouthed you, their tongue was cut out. Suddenly, you found yourself becoming a precious jewel to Mizu instead of a nuisance. During down time, she always checks up on you to see if you’re okay. Expect her to check if you have a temperature, if you’re hungry or thirsty. She wished deep down she could give up her mission to live a perfect life with you because that’s what you deserve. But promising such a thing is hard. At least for now, she has you and she will savor the time you both have together.

Taigen

“That was pretty cool, huh? You know I can teach you a thing or two if you say please… Haha! You’re cute when you pout!”

Unlike Mizu, Taigen found you to be a breath of fresh air on his journey to assist Mizu. He enjoyed how you were so pure in a world that was getting colder by the day. For a second, he was fearful of pursuing anything with you because of his relation to Akemi. But as the days went by and word started spreading fast of his lover’s affairs, the more Taigen lost hope in any future he could have with her. However, he gained hope in a future painted for you two.

Taigen is a mix of a man child and an amazing boyfriend when you two become a couple. He will tease you whenever you are being cute unintentionally or when you mess up doing something. It’s only because he loves your reactions to his commentary. He will also teach you how to protect yourself, preferably with a dagger. If you master using one, he’ll have you use a sword, but even then he’ll be a bit concerned it’s too much for you. On the battlefield, if he’s not showing off and winking at you after every kill, he’s quick to protect you from any harm. Let’s admit it. Taigen can be a pain in the ass. But he’s a great boyfriend.

Ringo

“You really think I can be a great samurai?! Then I’m going to train hard for both of us- I’ll be the greatest samurai for me and you!”

Ringo is a sweetheart. He didn’t expect to go on this journey to end up with a girlfriend, so when he scored one with you, you can imagine his surprise. He didn’t think much at first admittedly, but the more you kissed his cheek, nuzzled into his body on cold nights and threw him words of endearment, the more it settled. And boy did he adore having the title of being your amazing boyfriend!

With someone now to take care of, Ringo pushes himself to be an amazing samurai. He’s more persistent with his master to teach him how to use a sword and possess honor. He’ll even go as far as to ask Taigen to assist him if he can! Whenever he learns something new, he’s excitedly telling you all about it. If he finds anything interesting, he’s grabbing you gently to share it with you. If you’re looking for a ball of sunshine who’s both your friend and partner, look no further than Ringo.

Ito Akemi

“My darling. We will make our own path, away from this prejudice, these men- Everything that’s ever hurt us. That’s ever hurt you… You will never be hurt again. I swear it.”

Akemi knows all too well how it feels to be used and thrown away for your body if not your status. So when she met you at the brothel, she immediately clicked with you. She found your personality to be contagious along with your laughter. She spent every moment staring into your eyes filled with life, gently caressing your smooth skin just to make sure you were still there with her in this hell. You were the most beautiful flower she’s ever seen. You were a flower she couldn’t afford to be tainted.

She didn’t know why she fell for a woman or if it was a curse, but she loved you. She loved you enough to run away and spend as much life as she could with you until she was found by her father. But even then, nothing could hold her down. She was a princess who laid eyes on a commoner she wanted. That she needed. And no one would get in her way of having them. Of having you. She would destroy everything and bathe Japan in flames if it meant she could keep you in her warm embrace. She’d turn everyone into her enemy if you could be her lover. She’d be the villain if you were her savior… And that’s exactly what she was going to do.

If you got any requests for Blue Eye Samurai, send them my way!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3

[armpirate]

Smut

Crack

Criminal jk

Humor jk

Rich jk

The female lawyer who need to babysitting jk so she can control for being stop at ex crimrnal

Can that be a hot and funny one show or whatever you choose?

Am always your number 1 fan

Well, I hope this was what you were asking for!

Devil's law || Jungkook

pairing: RichCriminal!JK x fem!reader || Criminal x Lawyer

w.c.: 7.1k

Warnings: MINORS DNI. smut, explicit content, mention of drugs, female masturbation, oral sex, teasing, unprotected sex

Aprox. time of reading: 31 minutes

MASTERLIST

I don't give a fuck about you anyways

Whoever said I gave a shit 'bout you?

You looked at your phone, knowing that his name on it only meant bad news. Ever since your friend suggested you as his lawyer, your job became more meaningless. You went from being an upstanding lawyer, who hadn't lost a case in two years, to becoming a rich boys' babysitter only because he wasn't able to control his impulses.

Jeon Jungkook was the Antichrist made person, your biggest nightmare and, possibly, your karma for being Judas in your past life -because there was no other reason you'd deserve to go through all the headaches Jungkook had put you through in the two months you'd been working with him.

His case grabbed your attention when you were first offered the job to defend him. You hardly ever were on the wrong side of the story, but there was something in that job that kept pulling you in. It could be how his life seemed to be brought straight from a movie.

His charges went from being caught driving under the influence of drugs, exhibitionism, damage of public domain assets... even attempted murder against his father. You remember watching his story on the news, and just clicking your tongue and shaking your head at the exuberant confidence he radiated as he walked down the stairs out of court with a smirk on his face. And it was of no surprise. After he managed to prove he wasn't the one guilty of his father's death -even after he was proved, and admitted himself, he had been feeding his father poison for days-, he turned twenty million dollars richer. It was never proved his father's narcolepsy was due to the substances his son was giving him secretly, so they all decided to leave it as a death caused by the car accident he was in.

And after he managed to dodge all that -or pay his way through all the trials-, he ended up on house arrest after he was caught with his hands on tax fraud. It wasn't an easy trial. You remembered how hard you had to play for it to work out. The judge wanted to eat Jungkook alive, and he probably would if it hadn't been for you and your years of experience.

It was a promise of good money, with the easiest of the jobs you had to date. The only thing Jungkook had to do was to stay at home, behave, and just let those seven months pass.

Little did you know that man was a pain in the ass.

The first time your phone rang with a cop on the call, because his monitor beeped after he tried to leave his home, you could understand where it came from. It wasn't knew, it could've been something difficult to understand for him... But the sixth time the call made no sense. You could only sit back and see how he wasted money on paying those cops to turn a blind eye and ignore what he was caught doing.

You saved him from jail, but you weren't sure if that was what he wanted.

His smirk infuriated you. You drove through the rain and wind, worried about him getting in trouble, only for him to look peaceful and proud of having you there. Although the boil of your blood was only shown with a roll of eyes and a twist of your lips.

"Look who came to visit me, Bobby"

That sentence alone was the most surrealistic thing you had heard. Not even you knew the name of that cop, but Jungkook for sure did. He had to. It was the only way to gain the confidence and appeal to their corrupt side.

At first, Jungkook tried to escape -saving his ass by saying he wanted to visit a friend and he wasn't aware of the bracelet having to remain around his ankle-, he just wanted to outsmart everyone and be free. But when you showed up every single time after that single call, rushing inside his place while looking for him, it unlocked a new need he didn't know he had. You kept feeding his ego, making him feel important, due to your expression turning more concerned every time you crossed that door.

And your outfits didn't help either.

Those tight dresses hugging your curves, or those buggy shirts at the top that exposed some of your cleavage were driving him insane.

He was sure he was already going crazy inside those four walls, but you were only making it worse for him.

Your red leather bag was thrown lazily over the wide armchair that led the living room, strategically positioned between the entrance and the coffee table to mark the beginning of his living room.

"I thought I was clear the last time" you tilted your head, squinting your eyes in a failed attempt to intimidate him. "Is it that difficult for you to behave?".

"I told you last time not to leave me alone" he insisted.

Oh, right... that dumb idea he had of you living in his mansion.

You had enough going there whenever his monitor made the alarm jump, the last thing you wanted was to be looking after him as if he were a little kid unable to follow simple orders. Although, now that you were thinking about it, Jungkook was indeed a 5 year old inside of a playboy's body.

He hissed at the cop, whose eyes only moved away from him to sneak on the edge of your dress down your knee. The middle aged man was alarmed, quickly turning his head back to his ankle before he finally got up from the floor.

"I'm sorry" you mumbled.

"Sorry?" he scoffed, walking past you "This dude is making me rich. Every time I come here, I'm closer to buying a new car".

Those were his last words before he left you two alone again, with Jungkook's eyes possessively moving over your body, playing with his lip rings.

"Is it so bad for you to stay here?"

Your head fell back with your ironic laugh vibrating through your throat, unbelieving of that question making its way out of his lips as if it didn't have an obvious answer "I don't know if you're aware that I'm your lawyer, not your babysitter".

You wanted to say you had a life outside of your job, but that wasn't entirely true. You loved your job, to the point that it cost you several relationships -and some other friendships-, with your sexual life being a non-existent topic for months for you.

"I don't understand what I can or can't do with this thing on my ankle" he pointed at the bulky black device, with an intermittent red light, around his ankle ", but you do understand".

"Anyone would think you'd have a master degree on it after being explained so many times" your hands found a place on your hips.

"Are you saying I'm making it ring on purpose? That's a serious accusation" it was the way he faked to be offended by you, and how he smirked immediately after his own comment. "It was an idea" he shrugged.

His gasp sounded heavy when he got up from the couch, walking to you like a predator towards his prey. You were in his territory, but little did he know you weren't intimidated in the slightest.

"I'll pay 10k more" he suggested, making you chuckle with his idea. "I see... 20?".

"Whatever you pay, it's not gonna happen" you cut off any chances before they were even possible.

Jungkook stepped so close that you were sure you could smell his cologne by just breathing, feeling how it touched your brain with such care that you were convinced you were going to pass out while you struggled to keep your eyes on him.

His hand felt warm as he supported it on the backrest of the armchair, allowing himself to bend a little more towards you to leave your lips centimeters away from each other "What's not gonna happen?".

Instead of playing coy, or feeling lost at his words, you smirked back at him, mirroring his pose to only witness his smile going wider and more mischievous. Jungkook was a sexy man, there was no doubt about that. And soon enough after you started working for him, his surroundings didn't take long to find a way into your life, letting you know of all the rumors that surrounded him. You heard all the wrong, just a little of the good, and enough of the things that had you squirming in your bed just by imagining him doing them to you.

He was the type of man you'd spend a good night with -if only he wasn't your client.

"The only way to keep you still here is tying both of your hands somewhere so you don't move".

"Why don't you tie me up somewhere and make sure I don't move?".

"Good night, Jungkook" you moved away, holding onto your bag as if that would save you from losing yourself to him, while your feet tried to find a quick escape from the small espace his living room had become. "Behave, can you?".

"Are you leaving already?" he sounded sulky, pouting his lips while making his piercing stand out even more.

"Don't you see?"

"It's raining"

"You didn't think about that when you caused me to come here in the first place" your tone sounded annoyed.

"It wasn't raining as hard"

As much as you wanted to fight back, he was right. In a matter of minutes, you could hear the drops crashing violently against the big windows to the small parking lot in front of the facade. And, as much as his house was soundproof, the roaring of thunder still was heard as a background noise that made you jump unconsciously. Adding that it was two in the morning wasn't a good mix.

As much as you were still determined to leave, it seemed like the universe had other plans for you when the power went suddenly off.

"The power went off" Jungkook casually pointed out.

"Yeah, I see"

"Well, better said, you can't see" your eyes rolled with that joke, crossing your arms over your chest as you looked around, finding out that it was brighter outside with the casual lightning than inside. "Wait, does this mean it isn't working now?" Jungkook pointed at his ankle.

"It goes by GPS, and I guess you plug it daily, it's still working as if it would regularly".

It wasn't your problem, you weren't forced to stay. But something behind that question made your stomach squeak, knowing that you'd be forced back in a matter of minutes the moment you crossed the door.

"I thought these devices worked with..." his gestures among the darkness made you frown, only being able to see them waving in the air, "you know".

"Maybe twenty years ago. But you're tracked either way now" you sighed. "Can you light up the fire? As much as I like not seeing you, it's difficult to have a proper conversation like this".

Jungkook didn't fight to hide his victorious smile after your petition, walking among the darkness to the fireplace that led his leaving room to, at least, bring back some clarity in the area.

The dim lighting gave it a warm and intimate vibe, while casting flickering shadows around the room, working with the sound of rain and occasional thunder to make it, somehow, that type of aesthetic video you'd find on her Youtube feed to relax herself after a tough day at work, lying in her double bed, while ignoring the big mess her studio was. That atmosphere made Jungkook look even more attractive, while wearing his pair of baggy jeans and oversized t-shirt, that marked his hips whenever he turned enough to pick the firewood from the small basket at his left.

"Did you have a date?" he randomly asked as you approached his couch.

"Why?" you looked around, slowly sitting on the extreme of the plush sofa.

"It's two in the morning, you're looking hot as hell... I doubt you use that dress as a pajama" subtle dimples showed up on his cheeks with his smile, feeling deeper by the shadows.

"Yup, a date with thirty files I didn't have time to classify yet" you mumbled, leaving your bag at your right, over the armrest.

He was pleased with the answer, and he wasn't bothered to show it. His smile widened with your answer, and his body seemed more joyful as he got up from the floor to walk to where you were sitting.

"Do you want something to drink? Water? Wine?"

"I don't drink while I'm working" you stopped him before he could further suggest anything else.

"Well, technically, you aren't working" he tried to convince you. "You only came here because of the monitor, and it's solved. Now you're staying because of the rain, so let's say it's just a major event forcing you to stay".

You didn't confirm it because you knew it was impossible, but it almost seemed as if Jungkook had full control of his surroundings to give you where he wanted.

"A glass of wine will be fine" you finally agreed.

While looking around, you noticed the small details you had always ignored whenever you were there. Like the way the room featured a warm and cozy ambiance, primarily due to the large brick fireplace which serves as a focal point -and that was then lit up to illuminate you two-, and strategically combined with a floor that appeared to be hardwood, adding a touch of elegance and warmth -while being partially covered by a large, neutral-toned area rug. The room had the perfect balance of modern and rustic elements, creating a stylish yet comfortable living space ideal for relaxation -which was ironic, because that was the most nervous you had ever been.

His walk was confident, carrying the two glasses of wine before he sat next to you on the couch, so close that you could almost have your knees touching. You didn't move away though, thrilled by the tickles in your belly by the proximity.

"I'm not sure if I should drink this" you randomly commented when he passed you the drink.

"What I said on that trial was taken out of context" he tried to defend himself. "I said I had been feeding him pills so he wouldn't suffer, not that I was adding poison to everything he drank or ate. He knew about those pills, because they were part of his medication".

"Right... " you squinted your eyes, waiting for any signs on his body language that could give out more than what he was saying.

Choosing to play it safe, you left the drink back on the table, resting your hands on your crossed knees as you looked around.

"I don't know what's worse" he suddenly said. "Interrupting a date, or knowing you were still in the office".

"We both know you wouldn't feel bad about interrupting a date" you mumbled, letting a sided smile decorate your face.

"That's right" he didn't hide. "But I don't understand what you were doing stuck in the office, instead of going out".

"The legal sector is really competitive" you admitted, crashing a scoff before you took a sip of your drink. "Either you're born with money to buy your way to the top, or you work your ass off for it. And I'm clearly in the second group".

As much as you were in a stable position, and you earned your money, it wasn't always that way. The beginning was tough, you kept moving from one firm to another, earning as much experience as possible so you could live the way you were. Not only did you have to add double the effort, you also had to sacrifice a lot from your personal life, which majorly included those casual dates you managed to have in your uni days.

"I don't expect you to understand what that is though".

"Wow, that comment..."

"Is it a lie?"

"No, but I feel offended for some reason" you allowed yourself to giggle lowly.

"You were born with it, yet you still find a way to test life instead of just enjoying your privileges" and that was what pissed you off the most about him.

You were so harsh with him. And, for some reason, that attracted him even more to you, unaware of when he started moving forward to close the distance between you two enough to breathe each other's air.

"Well, it seems like testing life has given me the best of the chances".

His eyes shined with a spark that turned everything upside down in your head, mixing your needs with your own warnings, trying to fight how bad you actually wanted to kiss him when the lip ring was able to shine through the corner of your eye.

"Is that a line you usually use?" you fought back, lifting your eyebrow.

"I'm pretty good at that, but it's not the case this time" he admitted. "You truly drive me insane, Y/n. Ever since I saw you walk through that door to prepare for the trial the first time. I've been unable to get you out of my head" his voice sounded deep, while his eyes moved down your lips to go back to drown into your pupils. "You're one hell of a woman. Just imagining your hair being spread all over my pillows is enough to have me on a twist".

Your lip was unconsciously trapped under your teeth, holding back your breath when you imagined the scene after his words. Was it something you didn't think about before? No. But there was something in the tone of his voice, that had you pressing your thighs under the tight dress you were wearing.

"So you want me?" in an attempt to fake some control, you moved forward.

"Honey, if I answered that question, I'd have to prove it by humming it on your pussy. I'm a man of action, rather than words".

It was the first time you felt so wanted by someone, to the point of them opening up that way to confess how they felt about you. It was also the first time you felt your skin burning the way it was, desperate to take off your clothes to set you free from the blistering sensation.

It could be that all the time you had been alone played a big role in your decisions, it could be Jungkook was a hot man and you fell for his enchants. It could be a lot of things, yet you didn't mind either of them when you closed the distance to link your lips together.

His palm felt soft on your neck as he curled his fingers to pull you closer, parting his lips to suck your lower lip and pull from it in such a sensual way you thought you were melting on the spot.

No wonder there were so many stories about him all around. That man knew how to kiss.

Jungkook was surprised when you moved first, but he was completely gone when you took the initiative from him, tilting your head to slide the tip of your tongue inside his mouth. He couldn't control the groan that had been burning his throat ever since you first kissed him, feeling his eyebrows furrow and his muscles going completely tense with such a gentle rub.

"You're all I ever think about, honey" he mumbled against your lips, taking the chance to deepen the kiss when he trapped you again.

You pushed him against the couch, straddling his lap while pushing your hair away from your face to look at him in the eyes.

"Why don't you tell me what you think about?".

Your arms were on both sides of his head, your dress was lifted to your hips -enough to expose the black tongue you hid under the fabric-, yet the only thing you could care about was how hollow his voice sounded while he told all the dirty things he had imagined with you.

"You want me to be honest?"

"The most honest you can be"

Jungkook smirked when given the green light to set free all those thought he had kept as a secret ever since you crossed paths "Remember the first time you came here. You were wearing a white shirt, and a pencil skirt that molded to your body so good it made me jealous. When you started handing out that script for the trial, your cleavage showed off a bit" his groan interrupted his explanation, feeling dizzy for a second when you pressed your clothed pussy against his crotch. "I had never in my life dreamed of some tits I haven't even seen, but I promise I couldn't stop thinking about them. How hard your nipples would feel against my tongue, how tight they'd press around my cock, or how good they'd look while bouncing while I fucked you".

Your hips started rocking against his semi hard cock, feeling your juices leaking down your hole, only stopped by the thin fabric of your thong that kept getting soaked with each move you made.

"And your ass..." before he continued, his fingers dented on the skin of your ass cheeks, pressing them together as he helped you hump him. "I couldn't stop thinking of it jiggling while you rode me after I first saw you in court. I had to ask for your name and number after I saw you. Shit, I even had to send the blonde with the annoying voice to get you to work with me".

Your movements suddenly stopped, the blush on your cheeks slowly disappeared, and devastation took the main role in your features when you realized what happened there.

You didn't get that huge case because your resume was brilliant, but because you became part of the horny fantasy of a spoiled asshole who managed to get your friend to convince you. And it went deeper than that. The man in front of you went the lengths to find out who you were, learnt about your closest people and got you exactly what you wanted. You failed to follow your values, you were clumsy enough to almost go to bed with a client -when it was something you strictly forbid yourself to do-, and only because you allowed yourself to get fooled by his sweet words.

"Where are you going?" Jungkook was confused at the sudden change of opinion, watching you hopping off his body to place the skirt of your dress back to where it should have been the whole time, while walking away from the couch.

"This should've never happened" you assured him, walking to get your bag.

"But it has happened" he insisted, frowning at your denial.

"Don't touch me" you warned him, raising your index finger, before his hand could even approach your forearm to calm you down "I have a lot to think about".

Jungkook didn't insist, he knew when it was time to give someone their own space, and how distressed you were was a clear indicator of how that wasn't the time to put his needs over yours -mainly because it'd only do things worse for the two of you. He only saw you go, crashing your heels against the hardwood, until he heard nothing at all other than the door closing.

His patience didn't last much though.

A day later your phone was overwhelmed by his calls, and several of his texts, which you could only fight to ignore as you tried to focus on your work. A failed attempt, because you could only think of him.

Your range of patience wasn't too wide either after a few days, with a dry and clear text that warned him how you were considering passing his case to one of your colleagues so your personal issues wouldn't get in the way of your work.

Unexpectedly, his calls and texts ended, he stopped insisting. Willing to respect her boundaries, he just moved away from her, aiming to maintain that professional relationship you said you wanted to have. It was her choice, and he wasn't going to force her into doing something you didn't want to do.

Yet, far from being relieved, you were left disappointed with his attitude. And that confused her even more. Before that night, you didn't see Jungkook as anything else but one more of the big range of clients you had, and you thought it'd go back to being like that after you ignored what happened that night. But Jungkook worked like a drug. One try, and you were completely hooked.

Your mind replayed that night in his house several times a day, the scenes of what could've been kept torturing you. Jeon Jungkook got control of all of your senses, and you weren't even trying to fight it back. You liked those thoughts, you liked the thrill the image of him caused.

And all of it annoyed you.

For the first time in months, you left work at time to go on dates, to get rid of the remains of his toxic details, only to come back home even more disappointed than before.

And that night was no exception.

You were looking at your phone, puckering your lips at the on going sex talk conversation you had going on, balked to realize it caused you nothing. His words didn't make your blood run through your veins, it didn't give you the rush Jungkook made you feel as you grinded on his pants... There was nothing.

Your fingers worked in automated mode, sending a pic in lingerie, thinking that would change the mood of the conversation to the one you were looking for, although you were left confused when the notification asked whether you were still there.

Double checking the chatrooms, you couldn't believe what you had just done.

The phone slipped your fingers towards the bed, as you covered your mouth in surprise of how out of yourself you were to do something like that.

Jungkook: I see you're finally aware you can't get away from me.

Not only was she clumsy enough to do that when she was supposed to pretend he didn't exist, she was grateful to have been that clumsy to cause that text from him -even if she was fighting the air while whining about it.

"What did you just do, dumbass?" you cried, covering your face with one of the plushy pillows that adorned the head of your bed.

It could've been something easy to ignore. It was just as easy as ignoring his texts again, and moving on with life as if that pic had never existed, but life was a big bitch to you when you needed the most to be treated nicely.

That same route you walked several times with superiority and professionalism was turned into a walk of shame, with your lips pressed against one another and your head hiding behind your locks with every step you took.

You were left confused when you saw Alan Jones engaged in an entertaining conversation with Jungkook. He was part of one of the direct competitors to your law firm and, more specifically, he was the person you confronted the most in court, unfortunately. He made your sweat go cold, knowing that the trial would be one of the hardest in your career because of how good he actually was.

And now you were seeing him laughing with one of your most important clients, who only offered a quick glance in your direction before he looked back at the suited man.

"Am I interrupting something?"

There you were again with one of your beautiful skirts, that time being a blue long pleated one, which you managed to combine with a simple white t-shirt. Even if you didn't want to, Jungkook was sure you were able to interrupt everything around you by just being present.

"No, we were actually waiting for you" Jungkook mentioned.

He silently led the way for you two, inviting you inside an improvised meeting room -that you could clearly tell it was meant for something else when you saw how off the setting looked compared to the rest of his house.

If you thought your blood was going to stop running when you saw Alan there, you confirmed it would when you saw your boss sitting in one of the extremes of the table.

"I'm holding this meeting, because I was considering working with Alan's law firm" Jungkook casually mentioned, as you took the free spot next to your boss. "That's my spot" he corrected Alan, who moved his body to the chair in front of your boss, so Jungkook could sit in front of you.

"And why's that?" you dared to ask.

"He came to me with a good offer" Jungkook shrugged.

"It'd have been great if you had told me before calling me for this meeting" you hissed, trying your best not to jump over the table to kill him.

"You've been so busy lately, I wasn't sure you'd be able to pick up my calls"

Your jaw was clenched tight after that comment, knowing of all the second meanings behind it.

"Why the change?" your boss rushed to ask. "Aren't you happy with Y/n?".

Your body jumped when you felt the tip of his shoe moving up your shin, lifting your skirt on the way while he reached your inner thigh. "I was really happy with Y/n" you gulped thick when he only teased you, moving his feet everywhere but the place where you wanted him, "but, as you know, this is a relationship of two".

After dragging your chair closer to the table to hide what was going on underneath, both of your elbows took a defensive spot on your side of the table, using your hands to cover your lips. There was a moment you went momentarily deaf when the tip of his shoe caressed you over your panties, making those known shiverings run over your body violently.

"Are you okay?" Alan managed to ask, aware of the weak blush that was starting to tint your cheeks.

"Shocked. I'm shocked" your thumb moved over your lip, before you hid your mouth again. "What made you believe I wasn't happy with your case?".

Careful not to hit your boss with your knees, your legs spread, earning a smirk from him. Adopting a confident pose, he sank his body deeper on the chair to be able to reach further, pressing his sneaker on your clit.

"I didn't see you comfortable".

It pissed you off to see him so relaxed and calm, while you were struggling to keep your shit together with every rub of his feet on your button. You could get caught, you knew that could cost you your career, yet you still played along because you liked how good it felt, you liked seeing how proud he looked when he noticed how slick your underwear was becoming.

His explanations turned into a simple move of lips, and the response from your boss was a blank noise that couldn't distract you from the knot slowly forming in your belly.

"Can we speak in private" you interrupted, before it could grow any more.

His movements stopped, and Jungkook went back to his initial pose, lifting his hands in resignation while you hurriedly got up after fixing your skirt. The other two men in that room were expecting you to either give up or insist on keeping that client, but Jungkook knew where that conversation would go as soon as that door closed.

"I thought you said you were going to respect my decision" you mentioned in a low tone. "So your solution is to call that asshole to replace me? And what's this meeting for, huh?"

"I was going to respect your decision, but then you sent that pic..." he quickly defended himself. "And since I doubt you sent it to confuse me or make me jealous, it clearly was for someone else. And I can't tolerate that" he twisted his jaw, finally getting up from his place. "It better have been a pic for me only and not for another person".

"It better had been?" you scoffed. "Who the fuck you think you're talking to?"

"Last time I sent you anything was six days ago" he slowly pointed out, "so it's a bit difficult you accidentally sent that pic to me if it was meant for someone else".

"It was a mistake".

"Is that the only word in your vocabulary?"

"When it comes to you, yes" you challenged him.

It was a mistake from you ever thinking you'd have any control on a situation that involved Jungkook. His aura was way bigger, those were calm waters for him, and he knew it, it was all over his body language and the way he looked down at you.

"Be honest with me, alright?" the way he pinched your chin to look up at him almost made your legs turn to jelly. "How did that pic end up on my phone?".

It was unfair how he was using the techniques you used in court against you, manipulating you with his insistent gaze.

"It was a picture for someone else" you admitted. "I didn't send it to him though. I ended up on your chat, and I don't know why I thought I was on his chat instead".

"You wanna know what I think?" his lip ring bulged out when he pressed his lips together. "You wanted me to see that picture. You wanted to admit you want me as bad as I do, yet you're so proud and stubborn you'd rather die waiting than correcting yourself" the truth in his words made you even more nervous.

"Jungkook, this can't happen... I..."

Your words got stuck in your throat when he trapped your mouth violently, sucking your upper lip first, and then moving onto the lower one. He moved, and you just followed. You walked blindly wherever he guided you, until your lower back hit the edge of the table.

"I'll fuck you into realizing you're only mine" he roughly said when he broke the kiss. "And, why not, let me fuck that pride out of you as well".

"My boss it's outside" you tried to stop him when his hands sneaked under your skirt.

"Then I'll need you to be really quiet".

His smirk was so addictive, that you were willing to do anything he asked you right there. The fabric of your panties slid down your legs, with the cold breeze hitting your core and making you squirm at the contrast.

Jungkook was attractive every day, his sex appeal radiated through each one of his pores, but that day he was at his peak. He knew what he wanted, he knew how he wanted it. He wanted you, on that desk, and you were going to give it to him.

His cock twitched under his boxers when he took your panties to his nose to be intoxicated by your smell, and you didn't know how to react to the way your body squeaked at the sight of his eyes turning black after that.

Your skirt was lifted over your pelvis, sticking it to your body as much as possible when Jungkook sank to his knees in front of you, turning your spine into boiling grit when the tip of his tongue pushed your swollen button with a groan. And that one was followed by another one, and another one, and another one... until you tried to move his face away from you, only for Jungkook to stick your wrist to your thigh.

"Ask nicely, and I might do it".

You tried to fight it. It was a challenge. You only had to wait for Jungkook to get tired of only sliding his tongue up and down your folds, and twirling carefully the tip around your clit. But you also weren't good at remaining patient and dealing with the nervousness it caused you to know there were two people outside.

"Jungkook, please" you tried to stop him.

"Please, what?".

"Fuck me".

"That's not enough" his lips twisted, not completely convinced with your words.

Grabbing him by the collar of his gray t-shirt, you forced him up at the level of your face, making sure he was looking at you in the eye while you spoke.

"Jungkook, fuck me right now" you demanded. "Because, if you don't fuck me here, I'll be the one fucking you on one of those chairs".

After his jeans and boxers were wrapped around his ankles, he slid his tip through your folds, feeling your warmth and wetness welcoming him, while your feet were resting at the edge of the table.

Jungkook was gentle and careful on his first thrust. First, letting his thick tip break into you, followed by the rest of his length until he was balls deep in you. And it sure felt better than he imagined, feeling in paradise when you wrapped around him tight, swallowing him in.

All your hair in your body raised as he invaded you inch by inch, feeling the fullest you had been in months, feeling the most wanted you had ever felt in years when your eyes met before he started moving again.

His big hands grabbed your thighs, spreading them a bit more and raising them up enough to leave your feet hanging in the air, completely in control of what he wanted to do with you, before he started pounding in and out of you with a, almost, relaxing movement.

"Honey, just for keeping your pussy away from me for so long I should be fucking you so rough and loud that you aren't able to keep your shit together".

And you knew Jungkook was able to do something like that.

"But I'll be a good boy for you, hmm?" you could only nod senselessly, not knowing exactly what you were agreeing on. "Just like you're being a good girl for me".

Your teeth were clenched tight when his thrusts were calm, yet so deep and harsh that you could feel your whole body bounce and move a few centimeters away, before he dragged you back to the initial position.

"You have no fucking idea of everything I will do to you now that you're mine" he promised under his breath.

"Any weird fantasy I should be scared of?" you tried to sound confident, but your shaky breathing exposed how rushed you actually felt.

"I'm spending twenty four hours inside this place. Every single day I come up with a new way to have you" he bent down to rub his lips against yours. "This is just one of them".

His thrusts changed the speed immediately after, changing the position of your legs to place them over his shoulders, hitting you deeper and strategically better when he angled his hips, rocking his tip against that rough spot that had your toes curling inside your stiletto. In that same position, you also managed to find a way to press your thighs enough to cause some friction on your clit, losing control of your body, throwing your head back and closing your eyes as the moan was burning your throat like lava.

As you held onto the neck of his t-shirt, Jungkook found a way to keep you quiet so you wouldn't have to struggle. The dorsal of his left hand blocked those moans from coming out. At first you were able to control yourself, only sucking on his hand while your watery eyes looked at him through your lashes. But as your orgasm was approaching you, the little control you had over your body disappeared, biting onto his thin skin to keep all those moans and whines only for you two.

As much as he'd have loved to hear your moans, he loved how expressive you turned while being forced to stay quiet. Pleasure was on each corner of your face, present on every feature; you showed him how good he was making you feel.

The continuous muffled moans, the tight clench you had around him, and how your eyes kept alerting him prepared him for your climax, keeping the speed just to take you there, and follow right after you when you gulped him in like you never wanted him to leave, at the same time your eyes went completely blank.

He spilled on you, painting your walls with his seed to let you know you belonged to him. As much as you fought it, there was no escape from what happened. Your days of running away were over.

While you tried to recompose, Jungkook put your panties back on, securing his load where it was before he helped you down the table. He knew you'd feel it leak out , he knew your head would only replay what just had happened, and he was sure it'd only lead to you wanting more.

He was going to deal with it either way. There was no point of rushing it, because you'd probably find out as the meeting went on and you could only fight a way to find the right posture until it ended.

You woke up in his bed, with the sheets barely covering your naked body while your head was sunk in his pillows. Ever since that day, you kept scolding yourself for fighting against what you wanted. Jungkook was the best experience you had ever had. He was sexy, but he was also attentive and sweet when you needed it. He was funny and entertaining. He was a man who knew how to keep people hooked.

You frowned when you noticed something strange around your ankle, feeling it bulky and rough, and cold, when you moved your tip toes over it.

It couldn't be...

Your heart almost dropped to your feet when you saw that red light inside the monitor, making you wonder how the hell he managed to place it there. And, when you unlocked your phone and read his texts, you could make a lot of sense out of it.

Jungkook: It'll be only for a few hours. I needed to get out of there for a few hours.

Jungkook: But it should also work as a punishment for flirting with that attorney in court, when your attention should've been only on me. Especially since the trial was ABOUT ME.

Jungkook: I'll be back before two.

You couldn't believe what you were reading. But one thing was for sure: you were going to kill him as soon as he set foot back in his house. 

[mviswidow]

in search of silence

Eloise Bridgerton x Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: r is in an abusive marriage, angst, el to the rescue, some fluff at the end

Summary: Eloise and R are childhood best friends. When a new season begins, they find themselves reunited for the first time since R has entered her marriage that was set up by her parents.

Prompt: could i request a fic with childhood bestfriends eloise bridgerton x f!reader. eloise and reader stopped talking to each other as often because reader got married and one day eloise catches reader’s husband being mean to her (this can be physically or verbally) and eloise defends reader and they rekindle their friendship/old feelings for each other.

sidenote, ive always loved your mcu women fics and im SO glad you’re taking requests for eloise now 😭😭🫶

A/N: thank you anon!! for both the request and the compliment. i love eloise sm this was so fun to write

Muffled shouting stole Eloise’s attention when she escaped from the ballroom of this week's ball that she had been forced to attend with her family. She hadn’t wandered far enough to no longer be able to hear the string quartet playing, but the sound of a deep voice yelling angrily was hard to miss as she passed what she assumed was a drawing room.

Though Eloise knew she should not eavesdrop, she found herself unable to mind her business and stopped in her tracks, gravitating closer to the commotion.

--

“I am through with you,” Your husband shouted, face red with rage.

The moment his hand had clasped forcefully around your wrist to drag you into a room with him earlier, you knew what was coming for you.

“James, please - someone will hear,” you responded in a hushed voice, thoroughly embarrassed at the thought.

“Let them! Everyone should know the bitch of a wife you are,” he spat.

You knew better than to talk back to him, and yet, “I’ve done nothing to you at all! You’ve no reason to -”

A heavy-handed slap to your face was sure to silence you. You could feel the blood rushing to your cheek, and your hand rose shakily to cradle the side of your face. Hot tears brimmed your eyes as you breathed deeply to steady yourself.

“I’m leaving.”

“Please -” you forced yourself to say, a feeble attempt to calm him down, lest his temper worsen on his way home.

“Enough from you! I-”

The door burst open and you felt as if your heart was about to leap out of your chest.

You were astounded to see Eloise standing in the doorway, her lips in a tight line. It had been long since you’d seen her last. She was beautiful, as always. For a moment you forgot your present situation until you noted the fire in her eyes. She was furious, but she kept herself composed, “Is everything alright in here? I heard quite the commotion from outside as I was passing by.”

“We are quite fine.” He turned back to you and after a moment, he spoke, “I’ll send the carriage back around for you once I arrive home. I cannot stand the sight of you at present.”

“Lady Bridgerton,” he said curtly. Eloise barely had time to register the fact that James was walking towards her and stepped out of his way just in time.

“Lord Anderson,” she managed out, deciding to forgo her polite curtsy. She had deemed that he did not deserve it.

You both jumped at the sound of the door slamming upon his exit.

Her head felt as if it was spinning. She’d recognized your voice from outside the instant you spoke. The thought of this being the reality of the marriage your parents had arranged for you devastated her. She wouldn’t let herself imagine how horrid it was for you when you were actually at home.

Your cheek still burned from being slapped and there was no doubt in your mind about it being tinged pink. You were beyond mortified and the relief of James finally having left had tears falling down your face rapidly.

As much as you wanted to take in Eloise, who you hadn’t had a moment alone with since last season, you were lost in your mind. You dreaded your impending arrival back home and prayed that your husband would be fast asleep.

After a few more seconds you pried your eyes away from the bookcase you had been staring at and settled your gaze on Eloise.

She somehow looked more stunning than you had remembered her to be and your heart squeezed painfully. Her hair curled carefully over her shoulders in such a familiar way and it reminded you of how you used to twirl her curls in your fingers whenever she would rest her head in your lap.

The Bridgerton made her way over to you carefully. The concern on her face was evident and you knew by the way her eyebrows were crinkling together that she had much to say.

She stopped when she was just a few feet in front of you. For once, she seemed unable to form a proper sentence.

You were sure she couldn’t find the right words. You weren’t sure how you should navigate this situation yourself, but you had had enough of the silence, “I’m sorry you had to hear all of that.”

Eloise shook her head immediately, “You have nothing to be apologizing for.”

There was another lull of silence. All either of you could do was look into each other’s eyes. Hers looked so sad. How you hated to see them so.

“I assure you I am quite alright.”

“There is no use in lying to me, Y/n/n.”

Your bottom lip trembles at the familiar nickname and she hurries closer, engulfing you in a hug.

She felt you trembling as she held you against her. “I’m here,” she whispered, arms wrapped tightly around you.

It was not long before sobs racked your body and all she could do was rub your back and occasionally give you a few words of reassurance. Eloise felt her heart splitting into pieces the longer you cried.

You were certain that you would give anything to stay in her arms forever. There was nowhere in the world where you felt safer. Her chest radiated warmth and you took comfort in the very familiar scent of her perfume.

Once you’ve calmed slightly, you apologize again, “I’ve missed you terribly. And I have been the furthest thing from a friend to you. I’ve allowed James to drive the people closest to me out of my life and I won't stand for it any longer.”

“I can’t have you getting in trouble because of me,” she shook her head.

“Oh, hush, El,” you chuckled wetly. “I’ve been in trouble with my Mama countless times because of you.”

She knew you were joking to make light of the situation, but she found nothing humorous about it. Especially not as she reached up to wipe away the tears on your face.

“How long has it been this way?” she inquired, speaking with a gentle voice.

“A handful of months. He’s become rather frustrated by the fact that I have yet to produce an heir for him and his displeasure with me grows stronger by the second.”

Eloise’s face scrunched in indignation, “That is ridiculous.”

“It’s fair enough - that is why he was searching for a wife in the first place.”

“It’s unacceptable behavior from him regardless of that fact,” she was quick to rebuke. She took your hand in her own and squeezed gently. The feel of your skin against hers made her heart race.

“I’d like to get out of the house tomorrow. Do you think your mother should have my head if I busied you the whole day?”

“Not at all. She’s missed you quite a lot as well,” Eloise smiled.

Your heart fluttered at the admittance.

“Will you be okay tonight?”

“I will. I’m sure he’ll drink himself to sleep the second he arrives home.”

You could tell Eloise didn’t like the sound of that, but she said nothing.

She was grateful that you wanted to spend the day with her tomorrow, not only because she would be eager to see how you were but also because she’d missed your company so very much.

--

Almost two fortnights later, you’re riding in a carriage to a ball with your husband sitting across from you. He grows tired of waiting for you to finally come to be with child. Intercourse with him is nauseating and at this point, you’re praying that your courses don’t come next month for a multitude of reasons.

The ride is sour, as you’ve just had a nasty argument, ending in you being pushed into a table. Your right arm ached still, but you were sure that nothing was broken.

You were excited to escape from your husband and find your dear Eloise the moment the opportunity arose. Your feelings for her made you ever so giddy when you were around her. You felt almost childish at your eagerness to leave your husband and find your friend, but you had been swept into this marriage on your just first season out, which was only last year. It barely gave you any time to enjoy balls with her without courting.

Running around with Eloise at the last ball felt so normal, oddly enough. It was incredibly refreshing to spend the better part of the evening with her, sipping on champagne and cracking jokes. Even though you knew it was slightly improper as you were now married and should have been at your husband’s side, listening to him boast about his fortune and how impatient he was to have an heir with whoever would listen, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It did anger him, however. You had learned so after the last ball when he reprimanded you for almost half of an hour about your behavior as if you were his child and not his wife.

You’d decided to behave for the first hour, at least. It frustrated you so to listen to James drone on to his acquaintances, but you knew it was what needed to be done since he was already on edge from his earlier outburst.

The Bridgertons arrived after you, and you spotted Eloise immediately. You couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face when you saw the way her eyes lit up when she caught sight of you.

You squeezed James’ arm absentmindedly out of the excitement you felt. When he looked down at you, you played it off by giving him a look that should have been directed toward Eloise.

That had seemed to satisfy him well enough and he returned to his conversation, allowing you to return to observing your favorite Bridgerton from afar.

Eloise’s hair cascaded over one of her shoulders and two strands of soft curls beautifully framed the sides of her face. Her dress was blue, as it usually was, and it was embellished with embroidered flowers.

You could hardly peel your eyes away from her, but you forced yourself to redirect your attention to your husband once more.

After what you deemed an appropriate amount of time, you excused yourself to find more pleasant company.

It seemed as if you had run into almost every Bridgerton before her, though. You greeted all three of her present brothers before finding Violet and Agatha in conversation and curtsying to both. Violet even extended a hand to squeeze yours for a moment, happy to see you.

As soon as you began a conversation with her and Lady Danbury, you were accosted by Eloise, who gripped your arm excitedly. You winced briefly, now bruised from your earlier encounter with the table of your drawing room.

You relaxed your expression and the pinch in your brow was gone once it settled in that you were in Eloise’s presence, she still noticed your discomfort despite your futile efforts to mask it and found herself glancing down at your arm.

Her nostrils flared at what she saw, she had half the mind to find Lord Anderson at that moment, but she looked back up to you and saw the bright grin on your face and melted, a smile of her own growing quickly.

She swiftly looped her arm through yours and began to pull you away, wanting you to herself, “If you don’t mind, I’m going to steal Lady Anderson away. I’ve hardly had any time with her all week.”

The older women chuckled and shook their heads, recognizing this familiar routine that the two of you had been accustomed to last year.

“Have a nice time ladies,” Violet smiled, not even bothering to remind Eloise to attempt to fill a few spots on her dance card. She knew how the girl had missed you, and didn’t have it in her to force her daughter away from you. Violet rather appreciated how cheerful Eloise happened to get whenever you were around, especially at balls, where genuine smiles from the young lady were scarce.

Eloise guided you to a corner of the ballroom, not failing to make a stop at the refreshment table and hand you a lemonade. You were relieved to be by her side at last. There was nothing you had desired more in the past week, where you had only been able to promenade with her once, as James had been irritable.

The longer you were around her, the more you felt the pressure on your chest relieve itself. You were able to breathe so easily around Eloise. You suddenly became aware of the fact that her thumb was passively rubbing your arm and you had to blink a few times, not sure if you were dreaming it.

You ached for her to touch you more. You’d once attempted to imagine that your husband’s hands were hers, but they were far too rough, and you gave up quickly.

Your mind wandered for a moment, but before it could stray too far, you snapped yourself out of it.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” you pointed out, turning your head towards your best friend. It was quite unlike her.

She tilted her head in a shrug, “You seem as though you could use a little quiet.”

“You know me far too well, Eloise,” a smile returned to your lips, something she never failed to do, and you shook your head. “But please, if there’s anyone I’d like to hear ramble, it is always you.”

Eloise scoffed in mock offense, “I do not ramble.”

“You do, too,” you teased. “I like it.”

She chortles in response and the two of you hold eye contact. She looks at you with a fondness that you recognize yourself often directing toward her.

Eloise breaks it for a short moment to glance down at your lips.

When she does it once more, you’re suddenly overtaken by instinct and put your lemonade on a serving tray, taking hers and doing the same.

“What-”

Eloise is interrupted by you taking her gloved hand in your own and dragging her out of the ballroom. She doesn’t miss the way you check over your shoulder for your husband, who is heavily occupied, drinking and joking happily with his friends.

You begin making your way into the gardens when you hear Eloise chirp up from behind you.

“We shouldn’t be out here,” she says, not quite like she means it.

You roll your eyes, “Then it’s a good thing you’ve never cared for rules, isn’t it?”

“I suppose so,” she couldn’t be offended, it was true, and it was exhilarating to be truly alone with you for the first time in such a long while.

You stopped when you’d reached a dead end and you were sure you were not only alone but completely hidden from anyone looking outside.

Eloise tried to stop her mind from racing. She couldn’t be sure of why you had pulled her out of the ballroom. She waited with bated breath to find out, trying to suppress the excitement she felt. You could just be in search of fresh air, or actual silence, which required you to be far enough to hear the music no longer.

Your breathing quickened as you stood in front of her. She took note of it, and against her better judgment, let her eyes flicker to your chest. Then up to your lips, which were parted slightly. Her eyes lingered, before finally meeting your own.

While you badly wanted to tell her everything on your mind, you could hardly form a proper sentence, “El…”

You could hear her breath, ragged from nerves as she took a step closer to you.

There was a question in your eyes. You were grateful that you did not have to utter it. She knew.

She told you that she knew with the glassy nature of her eyes, the parting of her mouth, and her breath fanning across your face as she brought herself closer.

You closed the distance, pressing your lips to Eloise’s. The gentle kiss did not take long to turn eager, almost desperate, both of you feeling free from the sole secret you had kept from each other.

Her lips were soft and warm. They were everything you had dreamed of.

You lost yourself in Eloise, your hands finding their way to her jaw. Your body felt as if it was being lit from the inside when she pressed you into her with a firm hand at the small of your back. Your head almost spun from the contact of her chest against your own.

Despite not wanting to, you pulled away the slightest bit to catch your breath. You did not miss the way she chased your lips.

She had never looked more beautiful. Your heart swelled as she began to smile, which turned into a breathy chuckle.

You shook your head as you joined her with a giggle and let your arms wrap around your neck, hugging her tightly.

“I love you, El. So much,” you whispered.

You felt her breath hitch and her arms tightened around your waist, “I love you too. So very much. It pains me so to watch you from across a ballroom when I want nothing more than to be by your side.”

All of a sudden, your reality came flooding back to you.

“You deserve so much more than that brute that calls himself your husband. He should be honored to spend the time with you that he does. He is a fool for not seeing how precious you are.”

Tears welled in your eyes as she spoke, “I wish I had never married, El. I’m miserable.”

“I know. I’m not sure how much peace this brings you, but you should know that I am here for you, at any time of day or night. You could barge into the Bridgerton house in the late hours of the night and I shall be ready to dissolve your worries with my charming wits and whatever biscuits we can find in the kitchens.”

You found yourself laughing, as you always did in Eloise’s presence, “Thank you.”

“It is my pleasure,” her lips quirked up.

“What are we to do now? About us, I mean.”

“We’re going to have to find a way to get you out of that house of yours however often we can. And if Lord Anderson lays another finger on you I will sic my entire family and Lady Danbury on him. We’ll see how he likes that.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’d say I’m known for being ridiculous, you shouldn’t be surprised,” she raised a brow playfully before looking over her shoulder. “I highly doubt anyone is missing us in there…”

“What might you be suggesting, Miss Eloise,” you ask, feigning innocence.

“I think you know quite well what I suggest.”

[imaginesmai]

Promises to keep (2) - Azriel

Part 1

Plot: you and Azriel try to make it out of your captivity in time. With your powers discovered, is up to you to survive enough to save him - and with your powers draining, is up to him to save you.

Warnings: blood and violence, again.

You weren’t the first one to move. Stories about your parents’ death, hunted and slaughtered for their powers, terrified you until you couldn’t force yourself to move. Safe in Velaris, you had never wondered the consequences of a power like yours in such a selfish world.

When the first fae lunched at you, it was Azriel who made her trip with his crippled leg to the ground. His years of training and war showed themselves when the woman didn’t utter another breath, her neck broken in a terrible angle. Your mate growled like a storm, promising death to whoever came close to you.

That thought, Azriel facing them hurt and defenseless, was enough to spur you into action – and everyone else. You weren’t a warrior, not like him. Hadn’t been trained in your power in fear someone would sense it and come for you. You were clumsy, untrained and tired, but you were powerful.

It was blur of blood, iron and light.

Your goal was clear – not to let them close to Azriel. He could defend himself, maybe, for a few minutes. But you weren’t stupid enough to believe he could win against trained soldiers in the state he was in. So you fought, with your power, nails and teeth.

A knife sliced through your collarbone and someone kicked your knee to make you fall. They were blasted away before you touched the ground, only to be replaced by an arm around your throat and a punch against your stomach.

You lost your breath and the light disappeared, and you couldn’t get it back. Not with the male behind you chocking the life out of you, arm and fingers pressing over your windpipe. You wondered briefly if he could break your neck, crush your throat, with just his grip, but he was pushed off you before you could wonder farther.

Azriel’s pained inhale made your light explode, and then everything was silent.

You fell to the ground and curled yourself in a tight ball, your ears ringing. It felt as if every part of your body was covered by fried nerves, the feel of the ground on your skin sickening. Old wounds reopened by the sheer force of your power, blood coming out of them.

The pain and overwhelming feelings weren’t enough obstacle to realize there were no other heartbeats but Azriel’s and yours.

You never used your power, and you were ready to never use them again. The next breath was forced into your lungs when Azriel hastily turned you over and pain wrecked your body. He had a new gash on his forehead, and was covered in blood that wasn’t his.

“Look at me” he grabbed your cheeks and only dared himself to flinch at the obvious pain in your gaze. “You need to breath. You’re not breathing – Y/N! Now!”

He physically recoiled when he moved you, knowing what it would do to your sensitive body. But he had to shake you out of your stupor before it was too late. You finally took a shaky breath and kept hyperventilating, not tearing your gaze away from him.

That was what he had always feared. That you would be forced to use it, because of him, because he wasn’t able to protect you. He had trained harder for centuries, had assured your safety after you found refuge in his court and he became your protector, your friend, your mate and lover. Watching your body rigid with pain and shock, watching you kill those fae for him, was threatening to pull him under another wave of panic and terror.

“Listen to me” he exhaled, his whole body screaming at the movement. “The male – he’s gone. He has managed to get out and he’s coming back. You need to leave. The door is open and –“

“I killed them” you stated, not looking around but smelling their blood.

“It was either them or us. You saved us” Azriel allowed himself a moment of vulnerability, pushing the spy out of him and bringing the caring mate you needed. “I know you are scared. I am scared. And when all of this is over, we can be scared together. But I need you to run, darling, because I can’t hold them off forever when they come back. Don’t look back. Listen for any sound and choose the opposite direction. And if it comes between you and them, you burn this place down”

Those words took you out of your shock, because burning that place down meant burning him with it. Yet you realized he hadn’t included himself in that certain part of the plan, because he was asking you to run without him.

Through fried nerve ends and rigid limbs, you found it in you to be furious. To want to berate for hours about him being a selfless idiot and punch some sense into him. Instead of doing that, you rose up until you were kneeling on shaky limbs. Your burnt hands were bleeding all over again, pressed against the tiles of the cell in an effort to keep you conscious.

You brushed Azriel’s worried hand off your shoulder and got up only blacking out for a few seconds. The cell rotated around you, lights and shadows behind your eyelids.

By the time you could orientate yourself, you noticed Azriel had gotten up too using just one leg, and was keeping you straight between himself and the wall.

“I’m not going to leave you” you stated.

“My love” he used that damned nickname, knowing it made you weak in the knees. “You have to. I can buy you enough time for you to go out. I can’t… you have to”

Looking down, you fixed your gaze on his leg. The sight of open, seeping wounds and sticking bones was enough to tremble your world, and if you looked at his wings, it would only be worse. But you swallowed the lump around your throat and shook your head.

“We are walking out of this cell together, or we wait here together. I’m not gonna leave you”

You couldn’t stop shaking your head, couldn’t stop your voice from trembling. Because living without Azriel would be worse than dying in that cell without him. He seemed to understand he wouldn’t be winning that argument, so he nodded softly. He didn’t protest when you used part of your power as a crutch to keep him steady, when you wrapped an arm around his waist and tugged him forward.

Azriel could only look at you swallowing down your pain and wish the Cauldron was merciful enough to keep you safe when he was gone.

He couldn’t identify where you were, because the hallways looked the same. No windows, no rooms. Just walls and ceilings and floors of stone and marble, right and left, long and short. Each step felt like a race against time, and Azriel was aware that you weren’t winning. Without him, you could move at a limited speed. He had seen what using your power meant, after you barely escaped your captors when he found you centuries ago.

Without him, you would be able to walk fast, maybe jog at certain time without rest. But you were holding onto him as if he was the one carrying both of you. You held his weight and used part of your power to keep him straight enough not to fall.

Azriel kept looking behind his shoulder, waiting to see them coming at you. His heart jumped in his throat when he heard a noise, but so far, you had only found two patrols that you had taken care of. The first one was easy – after the second, he had to help you sit down against the wall and wait impatiently for you regain conscious.

“Don’t fall back” he reminded you, even though it was pointless. Your body was slacking off and his was too. “One step at a time”

“I’m trying” your breath came in pants.

“Drop my leg”

“Shut up”

For the fifth time, you refused to let that little help go, even if that was the last remain of your strength. You could do it on your own, you could get out of there without him, but Azriel understood that he wouldn’t. Trying to convince you otherwise, trying to make you see that it was pointless, would be wasting a time that you didn’t have.

So his hope lay on the faebane.

He hadn’t eaten breakfast nor lunch, which was starting to take a toll on his already mangled body. But that meant he hadn’t had faebane in his body for a while. And now, out of that damn cell, he could try to use his powers without risking your life.

He was already starting to feel the bond back, waves of nausea and pain that weren’t his coming in steady waves. Azriel had blocked his part, but you were too busy to notice yours. So he swallowed the stinging of your burned hands, the tightness of your body and the cut on your collarbone.

You didn’t waste time either talking, nor trying to plan your escape. By the time you had escaped the fourth patrol, Azriel was the one carrying you. You didn’t argue when you were lowered to the ground once more, his scarred hand brushing the hair out of your sweaty face.

“I’m not going to drop it” you reminded him, your eyes half-closed. You had never used to much power, but were ready to see where it took you. “Nor leave you”

“Got the point a couple of hours ago. How are you feeling?” he asked, leaving his hand covering your cheek. While you got worse with each minute, Azriel had gained some of his strength and power back. “Tell me how can I help”

“It feels like I’m being turned inside out” you told him honestly, no point in lying when both of your lives were at risk. “I’m hot but shivering, my whole body vibrated and it… I’m tired”

“Let’s get this jacket off, hm?”

You noticed he was still stiff and hurt, but he managed to brush his own jacket off your body and use part of it to clean the dried blood from your face. You closed your eyes against his touch, his warmth. If you drifted far enough, you could pretend you were back in Velaris, Azriel brushing the hair off your face while you fell asleep.

Memories from your relationship filled your mind. The first time you met, how scared you had been and how kind the winged stranger had been. The weeks of healing and explaining, his presence always by your side. Moments together in your shared cabin, taken from granted. If you tried enough, you could pretend you were locked in one of them.

Azriel’s voice brought you back to the present. He tried giving you a reassuring smile, but you could see in his eyes that he had been talking for a while and you hadn’t answered. That he was beyond worried.

“Back with me?” he asked, always gentle.

“Yeah” you looked towards the end of another hallway. “We should keep going. It must end somewhere”

“Rhys is coming” Azriel blurted out, making you slightly more aware. “He must have noticed our presences without the faebane, but I sent some shadows. Just in case. He’s coming, so you just hold on, alright?”

“I can’t feel it” you frowned.

Azriel didn’t bother pointing out that with the drain of your power it was a mystery how you were still conscious. He had watched you twice now lose consciousness, only to come back moments later with your gaze a little darker. Every inch of his power was directed at his high lord, at his brother, because he knew he wouldn’t be getting you out of there on his own.

You stared at him in silence. In a matter of hours, things had changed – Azriel could now walk without your help, a little trembling, but he could manage. His wings were still useless and he almost blacked out too when he rotated his shoulder. Still, things had changed. Because now it was him who stood a chance of making it out, while you dampened in front of him.

It was pointless to turn the tables and ask him to leave, so you decided to give it a rest. You retreated your power from his leg and sagged against the wall. Certainly, you felt like there wasn’t anything left of you.

“Hold on. And that’s an order, not a promise”

“So bossy”

Azriel smiled with silver lines under his bruised eyes. He leaned forward and, for the first time since you were taken, pressed his lips against yours. The kiss tasted like blood, yours or his you couldn’t know. They were gentle and soft, despite the many times his lips had been opened by an angry fist.

He cupped your cheek, as if it was the first time you kissed, and brushed his tongue against your lower lip. Before he could deepen it, he moved his mouth to the corner of yours. To your lower cheek, then to your upper part. He kissed each and every part of your face, gathering the scared tears you were finally letting free.

Your breath hiccupped as you finally let yourself feel afraid. That you might not make it out, that the power you had used killed people with families, that your body was drained and ready to give out. That, if you blinked for too long, no one assured you that Azriel would be breathing when you opened them again.

You rose your hand and closed it around his wrist. If you made it out, you would have matching scars, but that was the least of your worries. Your burns needed treatment, and you didn’t miss how his body went rigid under your touch. Still, he pulled away and looked at you in the eyes.

“Promise me it’ll be okay” you begged him, the sight of him blurry with tears. “Just one time”

“I promise it’ll be okay” he lied without hesitation, knowing he couldn’t make you that promise. Even if you made it out, he knew it wouldn’t be fine. “You promise me to hold on a little longer”

You fell quiet, blinking slowly. Could you promise him that, though? Could you gather strength to lie to him one more time? Just as you were, he could hear the sound of footsteps coming closer. You wouldn’t get up that time. Even if you tried, all you would gather was a brief flick of light. And he would try, you were certain, to get up, and maybe would hold them for a while.

Swallowing down, you nodded and whispered your promise.

Azriel was all you could feel and see for a moment. His hazel eyes, filled with worry and sorrow and guilt, so much more guilt that any person should carry. His soft freckles, that were covered by stains of blood. Dark locks of hair fell over his face, greasy and tangled, but they couldn’t cover the beauty of your mate.

He still held your face on the palm of his hand and you still gripped his wrist. If you had to die, you guessed, you didn’t mind doing it staring at him. And he must have thought the same, because his shoulders sagged in relief and his eyes softened.

His mouth moved, saying something. I love you seemed worthy of the moment, but you didn’t hear it. Only white noise and static. His smile dropped and his eyebrows scrunched when he repeated himself and you didn’t move.

You must had been worthy in any other life, because suddenly there were two beautiful copies of your mate in front of you, both of them equally worried. Before you blinked one last time, you saw Azriel’s face scrunching in horror, a kind hand making him step sideways.

Worried violet eyes were the last thing you remembered before blacking out.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

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[girls-alias]

Hi I love your work, any chance of an frenimes to lovers smut fic with dean x reader. With lots of sexual tension arguing then hot smut please? Maybe up against bunker wall can’t keep their hands off each other.

Frenemies - Dean Winchester

Title: Frenemies - Dean Winchester

Words: 6,303

Relations: Dean Winchester X Reader.

TW: Arguing, strong language, smut.

I sat at the table in the main room of the bunker, Sam and I had been searching for a new case while Dean was out doing God knows what. Dean and I, like usual had an argument this morning. If it wasn't for Sam I would have left long ago. He was my rock during college and my closest friend. We bonded quickly as he noticed my doorway covered in salt, as he was walking through the dorm rooms. We became best friends instantly. Often disregarding studying to exchange hunting stories. I was called back to the hunting life but kept in touch with Sam. Recounting my hunts to Sam as we often called once a week and always kept in touch even after years.

When Sam went back to hunting we often had many stories to exchange and hearing how Dean hadn't changed his ways only infuriated me. Sam had a lot to say about Dean even when we were in college. Dean was a copied and pasted version of John, his father. I tried defending Dean, assuming he must have some issues too but as soon as Sam was back on the road with him again and Dean was still acting like a prick I couldn't make any more excuses.

Dean and I, much to my dissatisfaction, met. I noticed Sam in the bar when I was on a hunt, I'd just arrived but once I caught up with Sam he had been here a few days and we were here for the same thing. Sam invited me to join him which I was over the moon about, until I remembered he hunts with Dean. I pleaded with him to give Dean the time off, Sam was considering it when Dean walked in, instantly approaching our table.

"Wow, little Sammy's on the prowl," He commented as he took a seat beside me. Facing his chair straight at me. I rolled my eyes sucking my teeth as I quickly glared at Sam for letting his brother in the same room as me. He's a pig. "You want to abandon him and have a good time with me?" He asked but I scoffed. I sat forward, closing the distance between Dean and me. He smirked thinking I was interested. I smirked, happy that I would soon ruin his mood.

"I'm not you Dean. I wouldn't abandon Sammy just because John - sorry I mean- You, told me to." I replied, glaring at him annoyed but smirking as his face dropped. He was instantly irritated. I raised an eyebrow waiting for a snarky remark Sam had often told me he was great at, but Dean sat back in his seat looking at me angrily. I smirked wider knowing I had silenced him.

Something I wish I could do more often, now he just acts childish and if he doesn't have something smart to say he just mocks my voice and pulls faces at me like a 5-year-old. Prick! If it wasn't for Sam I would have killed him. The only reason I started hunting with them full-time was because Dean called me to take care of Sam while he was recovering from drinking Demon's blood. I wasn't going to ignore Dean's plead for help when it was to help Sam.

I didn't look up at the sound of the bunker door opening as I knew it was Dean coming back. I rubbed my forehead, my headache coming on instantly, preemptive of the argument Dean and I always have when we're in the same room. He's just infuriating, I would have killed him a thousand times over if I didn't feel bad for Sam. Sam describes us as 'frenemies' we hate each other all the time but if someone threatened him I would kill them. Dean has done the same, I think we both recognise that it would hurt Sam if he lost either of us so we're simply protecting what Sam loves. Sam finds entertainment in our arguing half the time, it's probably the only reason we don't do it secretively.

Sam doesn't mind us bickering but if he saw us hit one another he would freak. Dean and I often punch each other, body shots, if Sam's leaving the room or he's not around. My favourite was when I lightly punched Dean in the balls as I passed him, following Sam out of the room. I turned back to put the finger up at him, watching satisfied as he hunched over in pain. Dean's favourite was probably when I was having a drink and he pulled my hair so I choked and got covered in my drink. I'd pulled out my gun when he did it but Sam walked in, he must have timed it.

I ignored the conversation as Sam asked where he had been. Dean grunted something in reply. I was getting better and better at not actually listening to him. His voice just sounds like groans to me now. God, I hate him more than I've ever hated anything or anyone.

“I was out. What’s it got to do with you?” Dean snapped at Sam. I instantly raised my gaze to glare at Dean slightly shocked and slightly annoyed. He rolled his eyes, groaning that he had got my attention.

“I know you’re not talking to Sam like that. Try again,” I demanded. My tone showed my short patience for him.

“I’m so sick of you picking fights with me, you hated me from the second we met,” he groaned, clenching his jaw as he noticed my angered expression. It wasn’t as intimidating as my look was of pure rage. I had done that expression to Dean before and he was terrified but he knew if he kept arguing back I would soon have that expression plastered across my face. He just gets under my skin like no monster ever has.

“Yeah, it was a great judgment call. You think you’re god gift but the perfect gift would be for you to be out of my life. Dean, you’re so infuriating,” I retorted. My voice raised and anger raised my heart rate. He rolled his eyes at me. I felt the rage coming up as he diverted his gaze slightly before huffing hot air from his chest and not backing down this time. “Roll your eyes at me again and I will blind you,” I threatened through gritted teeth.

“I don’t think you will.” He tested but I chuckled dryly. I stared at him for a second as he looked at me expectantly. I grinded my teeth slightly as I recognised he had finally grown a pair.

“Sam, leave,” I instructed. Not taking my eyes off Dean. He instantly looked a little hesitant but from the rate of his chest rising and falling, I knew he was almost as angry as me.

“No, I’m-“ Sam started.

“Get out,” Dean shouted. I instantly rose from my seat. I have killed many monsters that raised their voice or even glared at Sam. I have no shame in doing the same to Dean. I’m done with him now. There is no way I can put up with him anymore. I’m done. My chair clattered as it fell behind me. I couldn’t take my eyes off Dean. My vision turned red as my breathing became erratic.

“Don’t you dare shout at him!” I practically screamed at him. He clenched his jaw looking at Sam annoyed.

“Take baby,” he explained throwing Sam the keys. He hesitated to leave but as soon as the door closed behind him Dean looked at me. “Come on then. Blind me, punch me, stab me. Whatever it takes for you to get off your fucking high horse and stop being such a bitch.” He spat. I scoffed, tucking my teeth slightly as I nodded.

“Dean, you’re a pain in my ass. You’re such an idiotic, insensitive and obnoxious dick. You have no idea all the things I have dreamt of doing to you. I have dreamt of killing you so many times, if it wasn’t for Sam you would have died the day I met you.” I screamed now moving around the table to approach him. He scoffed. He may be taller but I’ve never been intimidated by height. If anything it motivates me more. If we’re ever fighting a group of vampires I always go for the biggest and baddest.

“See you say that but you’ve never even made me bleed. I’ve seen you overpower three demons at once when I was hurt. You care for me and I’m sick of you acting like you hate me,” he argued. I chuckled dryly shaking my head as my hands started to shake from the rage. He’s purposely trying to piss me off.

“Oh yeah, says the guy that cried in the back seat while you pulled the bullet from my side and thought I was dying,” I shouted but he clenched his jaw.

“That’s different,” he tried but I scoffed.

“You’re right it’s different, you cried like a bitch because you were going to lose me but when it was you I was angry. Angry that you’d have an attitude,” I retorted. He rolled his eyes. He rolled his eyes at me! Again! My fist connected to his cheek before he even finished rolling his eyes. I moved closer swiping his legs from under him and pushing his chest down as he fell to the floor. He wheezed clearly winded. “What have I told you about rolling your eyes at me?” I asked through gritted teeth. He looked at me furiously. With a swift movement, he elbowed me in the face, overpowered me and was now pining me down. I spat blood from my mouth, aiming my face away from him because I would kill anyone who spit on me, it's disgusting. Well, if they did it maliciously I would kill them.

"Not so big now, are you?" He smirked, thinking he had gotten the better of me. I bucked my hips up, hitting his side so he stumbled over my head. I hurried out from under him wrapped my legs around his and pinned his arms above his head so he was unable to move. He grunted, trying to free himself from my grasp. I smirked seeing how defeated he looked.

"Should have kept that pretty mouth shut," I exclaimed with a smug smirk. His eyes wandered as he thought. He quickly moved up, pressing his lips to mine. Instincts kicked in before I could think as I let go of his hands and moved away from him. He took this opportunity to push me backwards and follow me. He now pinned me and I glared at him as he chuckled.

"If you didn't want me to kiss you, you shouldn't be such a tease," He commented but I scoffed, I tried kneeing him in the balls but his legs kept mine in place, he chuckled at my attempt.

"In what universe am I a tease?" I asked, buying some time to think of how to get out of this. He scoffed as if my question was obvious.

"You mean to tell me, you don't do it on purpose?" He asked genuinely. I could see from his expression he was confused and was no longer speaking with venom in his tone. I stopped struggling beneath him as I looked at him confused. He's being serious. "You really don't know?" He asked, his grip loosening on me. I should take this as my opportunity, he's messing with me. He has to be.

I bent my knee, planting my foot on the ground before pushing off and rolling us. He seemed to not fight it as he was still genuinely confused by our conversation. He seemed to study me as if looking for a hint of me lying. He didn't fight back when I pinned him now. I rolled my eyes as he continued watching me. "What?" I asked annoyed wanting him to come out with it. He looked dazed, blinking a few times and lightly shaking his head.

"Nothing, forget I said anything," He tried, looking awkward and called out. My eyebrows furrowed as I recognised he seemed disheartened or upset.

"What?" I asked again, my tone slightly raised.

"Forget it," He shrugged. I rolled my eyes, my anger evaporating as I was stumped by what he was thinking about. I gave him a final jab to the ribs before getting up. I have to make sure he doesn't attack me when I stand up, this is probably a trick and I'm stupid enough to fall for it. I got up as he groaned in pain. I instantly left, sick of him. We finally fight and he does shit like that. He kissed me and called ME the tease. What is he smoking?

I stormed to the bathroom, checking my reflection as I noticed he had busted my bottom lip when he elbowed me in the face. I ran it under the water, cleaning it as I thought. What did he mean? He called me a tease and was confused that I didn't understand. He asked if I was serious about not knowing. When have I ever been a tease? I make it apparently clear that I hate Dean.

Yeah, there was a time on a hunt when I had to pretend to be his girlfriend but as soon as we were alone I punched his arm for grabbing my ass. He didn't hear the end of it for weeks as I constantly called him an opportunist prick. I rolled my eyes, knowing he was just trying to get in my head because I was winning.

I walked out of the bathroom, swiftly making my way to my room. I walked a few steps before Dean approached me from behind. I groaned showing I was not interested in his arguments right now, or gloating that he got in my head. He seemed to walk with purpose, I turned my head to look at him but he spun me around and pressed me against the wall. I looked at him confused and annoyed as he seemed angry. I pushed my foot away from the wall so he was now pinned on the opposing wall. He groaned at my movement, he started rolling his eyes but quickly stopped himself knowing how much it pisses me off.

"You haven't been teasing me?" He asked, almost as a statement. My eyebrows furrowed.

"Dean, I have made it abundantly clear that I hate you," I explained but he scoffed.

"So, you walking around in my t-shirt last week was an accident?" He asked but I chuckled.

"Yes, I thought it was Sam's," I argued but he shook his head.

"You continued to wear it the rest of the day," He tried but I scoffed.

"Well, I wasn't going to take it off in front of you," I scoffed, he sucked his teeth annoyed.

"Okay, what about when you give me those eyes you do, or when you bite your lip? There are thousands of times when you've teased me," He urged but I looked at him like he was crazy.

"That's called wishful thinking," I groaned but he shook his head.

"No, that's me being observant," He argued. He pushed against the wall so he was pinning me again, this time pushing his whole body against me so I couldn't move. I huffed as I recognised it would be difficult to get out. "You look at me like you want to fuck me, your heart rate increases and you struggle to speak unless you're shouting at me. You bite your lip at more things I say than Sam. You make pornographic sounds when I enter a room and you avoid being alone in a room with me," He explained but I chuckled dryly.

"All those things are me being angry with you. I don't look at you like I want to fuck you, I look at you like I want to kill you. I groan when you enter a room because it isn't pleasant being around you. I don't want to be alone with you because one day I actually will kill you," I explained through gritted teeth but he smirked.

"Then why did you hesitate when I kissed you?" He asked but I scoffed, slightly laughing in his face.

"Because I didn't expect it," I retorted but he smirked.

"Okay, then here's your warning. I'm going to kiss you," He said before quickly connecting his lips to mine. I didn't move my mouth, trying to bring my hand up to punch him in the face but he caught my wrist as he pinned it to the wall above my head.

I decided to kiss him back, figuring I could distract him long enough for him to let go of my wrist. I moved my lips against him, recognising his smile as I did. His tongue entered my mouth unexpectedly. I played along, giving him access but not allowing myself to enjoy it. He moved my other wrist to his other hand, pinning both of my arms in one of his hands. He moved his free hand down my side before pulling my body against his by my waist. I gasped softly at the movement. He smirked against my lips. I begged myself to stop enjoying it. I hate this man! I hate Dean Winchester!

And yet, he's kissing me and I want more. His free hand danced on the hem of my shirt, moving up to feel the skin on my side. His hand grazed my scar from the bullet he pulled out of me with purpose. I grew weak as my tongue fought his, my mind begging me to fight this but my body craving his touch. He grinded his hips against mine, his hard bulge making me moan as I craved the touch. I'm not the type to sleep with random people so my natural instinct was to get my sexual frustration satisfied. His grip on my wrists loosened as I moaned, my hands falling free. He started pulling away from the kiss expecting me to punch him. Even I expected to punch him.

My hand moved to the back of his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss. My brain frazzled as I recognised that I needed this. I need him. His tongue reentered my mouth as he grinded his hips into me again, smirking as I moaned into his mouth. His left hand moved to my thigh, pulling it to his side as he pushed his hips against me so my back was flat against the wall again. My eyes rolled to the back of my head at his movement. He moved from my lips, kissing down my neck as he began making out with my skin. Open-mouthed kisses were sure to leave hickeys. I breathed deeply, moans escaping me as he pushed his hard erection against my wet and ready pussy.

I gasped as he bit my skin, his grip tightening and nails digging into my skin. "You still irritate me, Dean," I explained, still moaning from his touch. He chuckled softly against my skin.

"Then, tell me to stop," He teased but I didn't have it in me. I need him and he knows this. Maybe I always did need him but didn't want to admit it. I caved way too easily. It would explain why he frustrates me so much. He took my silence as a cue to continue. He kissed my neck with more purpose. His hand on my waist moved to the bottom of my back. "Jump," He explained before leaning back. I jumped slightly. I wrapped my legs around him as he released my thigh and held my ass to hold my weight. I hastily connected our lips.

He moaned against my lips as he walked me down the hall. He kicked open the first door and came down with me as he lay me on the bed. I moaned, knowing instantly we both wanted more than just this. I rolled my hips against him earning a moan from his lips. He kissed me with more passion, his hands travelling to the bottom of my shirt, pulling it up and over my head, his mouth reconnecting with mine as his hands explored my bra-covered breasts. His hips seemed to grind against me out of instinct. He pulled away to pull his shirt from over his head with my help. He grinned widely before his lips found mine again. He's clearly happy we're doing this.

I moaned, my head pushing into the bed as my eyes rolled to the back of my head. He took the opportunity to kiss my neck. His hands moved behind my back to unclasp my bra. I stopped his movements as he started pulling it from my body and leaving me exposed. He pulled back to look at me a little confused.

"Lock the door," I instructed but he looked at me like I was stupid.

"We're the only ones here," He retorted but I rolled my eyes. He's too irritating why did I want to do this? I rolled my eyes, shaking my head as I recognised my mistakes. How on Earth was I stupid enough to believe he wouldn't irritate me? He groaned, getting up and walking to the door. I half expected him to leave but he shut the door and locked it. Turning back with a defeated expression. "Happy?" He asked, his tone showing his disappointment.

"Dean, I swear to God-" I explained as I sat up, arms covering my breasts as I glared at him as he approached me.

"Shut up," He simply stated as he came back on top of me and reconnected our lips.

"You piss me off," I explained against his lips.

"Good," He retorted only making my heart beat quicken and it was unclear if it was because I hated him or needed him. He gripped the bra which was still unclasped but on my arms. He ripped it away from my body harshly. I chuckled, against his lips before his tongue entered my mouth. Our tongues dance in the middle. I rolled my hips into him, and he moaned into my mouth. I smirked slightly.

Dean got up, he watched me with hungry eyes before gripping the top of my leggings and harshly pulling them down. I gasped but smirked at his eagerness. I was dragged down the bed slightly so he could rid me of my clothes. My heart beat so fast I worried he could hear it. I watched intently as his chest rose and fell rapidly, at least I knew he was excited too. He unbuttoned his jeans, his eyes never leaving my face as I bit my lip, watching his hands. I gulped, as he pulled the edge of his jeans apart so the zip came undone. I gulped, biting down harder on my lip as I waited impatiently for multiple reasons, I haven't had sex in probably close to a year, I have no idea how big he will be and I am too wet to think straight.

Dean pulled his jeans down, his boxers purposely staying up to make me wait. I rolled my eyes slightly as I looked into his smiling eyes. He chuckled seeing my annoyance but he soon smirked. He watched me intently as he pulled down his boxers. I looked down, my eyes widening as I clenched my jaw knowing it would have dropped open from the shock if I didn't. Holy shit! His cock is huge. He continued to smirk smugly as he slowly started stroking himself.

"Looks like I've found a way to shut you up," He commented, his tone riddled with sex. He's a slut. I finally looked back at his face, his smirk, the way at me, his eyes. All of it was pornographic and all of it made me even wetter.

"Where are you putting that?" I asked seriously. His eyebrows furrowed slightly. "That's way too big, it isn't going to fit," I explained but he laughed, moving back in. I lay down as he guided me down. His lips curled into a smile as he connected our lips. I pulled away to look at him but he moved his lips to my neck. I moaned from the sensation. "Dean, seriously though. I haven't had sex in a year, be gentle at first," I managed through my moans. He smirked against my neck.

"Y/N," He practically moaned, his tip pressing on the inside of my thigh making me whimper. "You're in charge, tell me when it hurts and when to go for it," He explained between kisses on my neck. I gulped nodding quickly knowing I was ready and almost to the point of begging. My hands quickly found his neck and back as he moved up to connect our lips. I kissed him pleadingly, passion seeping from our lips as our tongues danced. He pulled back to look me in the eyes, his eyes appeared darker in the shadows of the light. His fast breathing came out as something close to growls. "Ready?" He asked genuinely. His voice was deeper and full of desire. I bit my lips, legs clenching for a second as a reaction from his voice. I nodded. He didn't move, he just continued watching me.

"Yeah, yeah. Dean I'm ready," I gulped, wanting him to hurry up so I could feel him inside me. He smirked, and he sat up moving to align his tip with my entrance. I gulped slightly.

"Tell me if you want to stop," He instructed. I smiled softly knowing he didn't want me to feel uncomfortable. I've never felt so safe having sex with someone for the first time. He pushed his tip in softly. His hands on my waist and thumbs rubbing my skin softly. I bit my lip. Whimpering slightly. It didn't hurt yet but I was getting scared of the pain that was about to come. Dean smiled comfortingly as he leaned forward to continue kissing me. I smiled against his lips knowing kissing him would give me a bit of distraction.

I gasped slightly as he slowly pushed in. As soon as the gasp left my lips he stopped, looking at me concerned. "Sorry," I chuckled a little awkwardly.

"You want to stop?" He asked, his hips hesitating to move back. I shook my head with a smile.

"No, It just felt good," I blushed. He chuckled with relief. I placed my hand on the back of his neck to pull his lips to mine. I moved my hand to his back, pulling him closer. He took this as a hint to slowly push inside me. I whimpered, my head dropping back as he entered me. I could feel Dean watching me intently. He stopped the second my eyebrows furrowed, wincing from the stretch. I breathe in through gritted teeth. The pain a little sharp but

"You're doing so good baby," He commented, kissing my cheek as I smiled at his words. Hearing him call me baby seemed to flick a switch inside me, my insides turned to mush and I suddenly had no idea how I'd ever disliked him. "Either you're ready to continue or you like it when I call you baby," He commented, I giggled softly, my eyes finding his as he licked his lips.

"Both," I smirked, he groaned slightly just admiring me. I grinned, leaning up to kiss him. His lips devoured mine, his tongue entering my mouth as if he owned it. He slowly pushed his hips into mine. My moans were muffled by his lips, he hesitated to continue but I wasn't moaning in pain, it was all pleasure. My hand on his back pulled him in, and he smirked against my lips recognising my want and need for him to continue.

His hips continued, my hard cock reaching places inside me I didn't know were reachable. A small fragment of my brain wondered if he was abnormally big or if I had only been with guys who had smaller dicks. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as his hips finally met mine. He groaned, his jaw loosening as he pushed deep inside me. My head pressed into the mattress, my moans coming out soft and slow.

He waited, letting me adjust if I needed to. He started at an incredibly slow pace. His forehead resting on my shoulder, his breaths staggered as he moved agonisingly slow. My nails dug into his back, the feel of his dick slowly gliding in and out with long strides making me weak but his tip hitting my G-spot made me moan animalistically. His strides seemed to be precise and measured, his moans melting with mine as his pace picked up a little.

"This okay, baby?" He asked, his pace never faltering. I nodded quickly, humming a yes as a reply. He kissed my shoulder gently, his smile pressing on my skin. I smiled, simply knowing he was smiling. "Fuck, baby." He groaned as I rolled my hips into his, his cock reaching deeper inside me and almost making me scream instantly.

He bowed his head, bending his neck and adjusting his upper body to suck on my nipple as he continued to fuck me. My eyes rolled to the back of my head from the new sensation. My moans escaped me as if they were expelled from my soul and not breaking through my lips. Dean seemed to take my enjoyment as a challenge to please me more. His hips moved faster, his strides not any less precise and his breathing became more laboured as he too enjoyed the sensations. My pulsing walls clenched around his hard cock making it near impossible for him to not build up.

He sat up, holding my hips in one hand while his other hand moved to where we were joined. I inhaled harshly as his thumb came in contact with my clit. A small chuckle escaped his lips as he watched me, entertained by my reactions and clear enjoyment. I moaned, a little louder than I'd ever moaned before. His thumb rode my ball of nerves and gave me sensations I didn't think possible.

"Fuck, Dean. Don't stop," I moaned, a knot in my stomach tightening and causing my brain to envision fireworks.

"Wouldn't dream of it, baby," He commented, his voice laboured as his breath was quick. I moaned from his voice, the sexy voice that I used to zone out but now know that it's capable of making me almost squirt. I moaned at the thought. I never imagined Dean would be this good in bed. Each push inside kissed my G-spot with force. His thumb works on my clit as if he knows all the things I want without knowing I want it. His voice sent shivers down my spine and clenched my walls around him. "Where's those beautiful eyes?" He asked, deep desire in his tone. My eyes are rolled to the back of my head. I opened my eyes, and instant eye contact had me rolling my eyes again. His green eyes, sharp jaw, light stubble, amazing hair. God! Everything about this man is making my orgasm grow closer and closer.

"Show me your eyes baby," He commented, his breathing almost coming out in growls. I hummed, my orgasm tightening and tensing my muscles. I found the strength to open my eyes, watching as he looked down at me with a dirty smirk. He knows exactly what he's doing to me. I struggled to maintain eye contact as his dick slammed into my G-spot, my orgasm dangerously close.

"Dean, I'm so close," I whimpered, my moans escaping my lips hastily.

"Good, baby. I want you to cum. I want to feel you cum around me," I gulped, my moans escaping more breathlessly. The knot is my stomach almost reaching capacity. "Cum for me, baby. I'm so close," He struggled. Knowing he was close, his sweat beading down his bare chest, his strained expression and unquivering pace sent me over the edge. I gripped the bedsheets beside me, my whole body seemed to tense as the orgasm hit me like a truck.

"Fuck, Dean," I moaned, I gasped before a scream escaped my lips. I hummed as Dean hurried to kiss me. Silencing me as he continued fucking me through my orgasm. My vision darkened, my eyes squeezed shut and my brain turned to mush. My hands found his back, nails digging in as I moaned into his mouth. He pulled back a little, his face scrunched up slightly as he fought off his orgasm wanting to finish mine before he came.

"Fuck. Fuck," He erupted, pulling out of me. His hand pumping his cock as he came up my stomach, I breathed deeply, legs shaking as his thumb never moved from my clit. He groaned, cum spurting out of him as he rested his sweat-covered forehead on mine. I bit my lips, my orgasm subsiding as I watched his orgasm overtake him. His thumb stopped working on my overly stimulated clit. Now resting on the bed beside me. His other hand slowed as the last pump of cum left him and fell onto me. His warm liquid drawing pattern on my skin.

Our breathing was rapid and from Dean's swaying, I knew he wanted nothing more than to lie down. I smiled, admiring him before his eyes finally opened to meet mine. I bit my lip watching as his expression lit up at the sight of me. His lips curled into a smile for a second before he leaned in to kiss me. The kiss was sloppy and slow. Humming as he pulled away, I smiled at him. He chuckled softly as he bit his lip.

"I don't think I've ever cum so hard," He commented quietly, almost whispering. I giggled as I smirked, my cheeks blushing as I admired his details up close. Wishing I could take a mental picture of this moment.

"Me too," I chuckled, he smiled but soon winced with a sigh. I looked at him concerned, wondering if he was in pain, figuring it was a cramp.

"I'll get you a towel," He commented sadly, I chuckled knowing he didn't want to leave this moment as much as I did. His hands holding up his weight seemed to wobble as he was tired.

"Who's room is it?" I asked, not wanting to take my eyes off him for a second. He looked at me a little confused before looking to the side of the bed.

"Yours," I smirked at his reply.

"I'll change the sheets," I shrugged, he instantly understood. Kissing me quickly before moving beside me to lie down. Is it too weird to cuddle? Dean's hand found my shoulder pulling my body in. I chuckled happily as he pulled me into a cuddle, relief overcoming me. I rested my head on his shoulder, my leg draping over his as my arm came up to lie on his chest. My fingers automatically draw patterns on his warm skin. I watched as he smiled brightly. He turned to look at me. Kissing my forehead before admiring me.

We lay in silence for a while, happily catching our breaths and enjoying each other's company. I smiled, just remembering what we had just done and all the emotions that came with it.

"Hey, baby?" His tone was curious. I looked up at him with a smile. He's still calling me baby. "Do you still hate me?" He asked genuinely. My eyebrows furrowed as I shook my head.

"No, I don't think I ever did," I explained, my hand moving to his cheek. He smiled at the contact.

"I'm sorry for everything I've done and every horrible thing I've said to you and Sam when I was angry," He explained, sadness in his tone. I smiled softly.

"I'm sorry too, I promise from now on I will be nothing but nice," I tried but he winced. I looked at him puzzled as he smirked.

"Maybe not all the time. You're really hot when you're angry," He commented, I chuckled as I shook my head. He kissed my forehead with a bright smile. He seemed deep in thought as he played with my hair. "I do want to make this a regular thing though," He commented, his tone showing sincerity. My smile beamed as I nodded.

"Me too," I commented biting my lip as I watched his lips curl into a smile.

"Good, if that's what my baby wants, that's what my baby gets," He added, I blushed as he moved his hand to my chin. He leaned down, and I leaned in the rest of the way to kiss him. His hands played with my hair as our kiss was slow and meaningful. Passion radiates from us. "Can I keep calling you baby?" He asked against my lips. I hummed a yes as I continued to kiss him. His lips smiled against mine, never breaking contact. "Can I take you on a date?" He asked, his lips pushing into mine as if he didn't want words, just actions. I blushed wanting nothing more than to scream a yes. I hummed yes again. I pulled away to smile at him.

"Of course, Dean," I smiled, his lips curled to a smirk. He hummed happily, tucking some loose hair behind my ear.

"I've always loved the way you say my name," He commented, connecting our lips again. I melted into the kiss knowing I would give anything to stay here forever.

Masterlist

[kiachiako]

stars, moons, & other celestial bodies | j.jh

pairing | jaehyun x female!reader

synopsis | With your fizzy drinks and vinyls in tow, you’re determined to make the most of your summer before the start of your first year at university. Everything’s seemingly perfect; humid afternoons with your closest friends, late-night mixers at your local alumnis' estates, and sleeping in to ungodly hours. What you didn’t predict, however, was your brother making the early trip home to surprise you with a certain someone — namely, his best friend since childhood — following closely behind. His unexpected appearance throws you off, and suddenly, your summer is filled to the brim with his presence. You’re finally able to taste the idea of mature love, but is it really all that it’s made out to be?

content | brother!taeyong, retro-themed au, angst, fluff, coming of age, language warning, suggestive, mentions and consumption of alcohol/drugs

wc | 26.7k

song | delicate — taylor swift

a/n | for @hyuckmov and @rrxnjun, who kept me sane while writing this monster :D

...

The first week of summer before your freshman year of university is defined by sticky ‘n sweet cherry cola, rides around the abandoned carousel with your friends, and “borrowing” quarters out of your brother’s Cadillac to insert into the jukebox of the local diner; break has been this way since as long as you could remember. It's a familiar itinerary, one that plays back routinely every school break.

You’ve grown up without even realizing, your teenage days spent juggling academic work and getting into stupid situations with Mark and Chaewon trickling down to a close. This conclusion really hit you during an epiphany on a sweltering night after high school graduation. 

It occurred in the midst of humid sepia air, the three of you still in your graduation caps and gowns as your bodies lay splayed across the asphalt leading down to your street. With the absence of cars coming down the wide road, it was perfectly rational to lay side by side in the middle of the cul-de-sac. The ground was simply the best place to ponder your thoughts and get lost in swirling memories now that university lay too close on the horizon; the sheer size of the sky seemed to mock your trio as you watched the clouds roll on by in their mismatched shapes and harrowing wisps. 

A cigar — one comically too big for his face — hung between Mark’s fingers as he pushed his body to flop over your arm, the thing no doubt “borrowed” from the bottom of his father’s office drawer.

“Thank the Lord I’ll never have to see you bitches again,” he had sighed in pretend relief, blowing a tunnel of smoke into the side of your face as you pushed his warm skin off of yours. Chaewon snorted from beside you.

“Please, as if you’ll last a day without us at uni,” she retorted, rolling over onto her stomach and pulling a face at Mark’s teasing words. “I can’t even count the amount of times I’ve saved your life over this past month alone.”

“Yeah?” Mark grinned, supporting his upper body with his forearms as he turned to look at her over your relaxed figure. “Enlighten me.” She subsequently raised her eyebrows at him.

“Might I remind you of the time you got stuck at the drive-through cinema at 2am because you had locked yourself out of your car? And guess whose asses had to haul yours back home two hours away,” Chaewon pointed an accusing finger at Mark, her tone joking as she glared at said boy. He opened his mouth to say something but she held up a finger to her mouth in a shushing motion, stopping him. “And. Let’s not forget last week,” Mark furrowed his eyebrows, as if trying to recall which out of all the dumb decisions he had made was about to be relived, “when Kang Yujin pushed up on you during that one house party, you got a hard on from just that, and we had to cover for you-”

Mark shot up abruptly, leaning over you to slap a hand over Chaewon’s mouth before rushing to defend himself.

“But she was so hot, Chae, you wouldn’t understand,” he whined at her, frowning at you to do something and sympathize with him. It was expected by now, the regular petty and half-assed arguments making your friendship that much stronger.

As they continued bickering back and forth, you couldn’t help but let your mind drift away back into the clouds, the setting sun soaking them with a blazing, burnt umber. You would be going to college soon, and that meant no Mark, no Chaewon, and no parents to keep you sane. It was strange to imagine not spending every waking moment with your two best friends, and even stranger to think that going to different schools would mean no more daily drama fill-ins and midnight convenience store runs.

But after all, you had done it once, and you hoped you could do it again.

When your older brother Taeyong left for university a few years ago, it had practically shattered you. Sure, you found him incredibly annoying at times (still do) and had a constant vendetta against the man, but when the moment came to hug him goodbye, you just couldn’t bring yourself to let go. He had shown you the ins and outs of adolescence and given you the attention you craved when your parents couldn’t. He taught you how to take care of yourself, how to look in the mirror and recognize your worth, how to know your own limits, and how to realize that high school boys weren’t shit. He was always the first to get to the hospital when you had gotten hurt at school, and most important of all, he was with you throughout the highs and lows growing up.

If Taeyong leaving home had taught you anything, it was that time moves too fast — and it’ll only move faster as you get older. You know that your life is about to enter Round 2, and this time without anyone to hold your hand as you enter an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people.

But it’s not over just yet.

Your best friends would never let that happen, and you recognize this now as your golden trio sits in your town’s local record shop, with ceiling fans whirring above you as the cool storefront protects you from the blazing summer heat.

It’s after-hours but the sun still burns bright into the late afternoon. You recline in the cashier chair as Chaewon flips the 'open' sign closed and makes her way back to you and Mark, the latter sitting against the wall with a variety of bottles surrounding him on the checkered floor. 

He’s in an odd position, and you just know his mother would flip if she saw him with this much alcohol on a wednesday afternoon (at least it’s not a Sunday after mass, but she definitely doesn’t need to know that he’s been there, done that already). Mark tests out new concoctions every week, using the record store as his work space; the owner’s never in town and barely any customers come in to buy records these days, so there’s no one to stop him. Chaewon raises her eyebrows as she eyes the newest addition to his special menu.

“I’m not even gonna ask,” you say as he swirls the amber liquid around in a clean whisky bottle. Mark whistles at his creation, impressed, before holding it up to you and shaking it tauntingly. It smells slightly floral, the sharp flavors of absinthe and cognac making your nose scrunch.

“You’re just mad that your mixes don’t hit as hard as mine, baby.” With another swirl, he lifts the drink up to his mouth to taste. “And because you so nicely asked,” Mark smirks at you, “it’s Peychaud’s Bitters, cognac, syrup, and anise, and I give you my permission to borrow the recipe to impress your future uni friends. You’re welcome.” You shove Mark’s shoulder with your palm as he laughs at your baffled expression, body shaking with amusement while he sips away at his newest pride. 

It’s only when Chaewon reaches over to steal the bottle away from him that your phone starts ringing, startling all three of you as the name of your older brother flashes across the screen. Mark looks at you inquisitively, but you just shrug in response and press the receive button.

“Tae?” you inquire, surprised at the sudden call. “Everything okay?”

He hums at the end of the line. 

“More than okay. Guess whose plans just changed and is actually coming home today for break,” he reveals right away, and you know he’s smiling by the way his tone of voice is lilted in true Taeyong fashion.

“No fucking way,” you breathe out, eyes widening. Taeyong’s back? “Today, right now? For the entire summer? You’re actually lying- wait wait I’m coming home right now. Wait. Wait for me.”

“‘Wait wait wait,’ I’m not going anywhere sis,” he grins as he mocks you, noises of shuffling sounding out over your phone speaker. “Mom’s gonna pick me up from the airport in 30, I think. See you then?”

“Lee Taeyong! How could you not tell me,” you frown into the receiver, “I need at least three business days to prepare before seeing your face.”

“Oh, shut up would you. I have literal voicemail receipts of you crying about how much you miss me,” Taeyong retorts, topping your sarcasm. 

You sigh, rubbing your temple when you realize that Taeyong’s never gonna let your sad-drunk voicemails go. “Fine, but you better spend every single day with me.”

Taeyong protests jokingly before giving in, promising you that he’ll make up for the time you’ve missed together. With a little, love you, and more of his usual unsolicited comments, the two of you say your quick goodbyes and you turn back to your waiting friends. 

“Damn, Taeyong’s really back?” Mark looks at you in awe, his eyes shining with admiration. “He never stays for long, that’s crazy. You gotta let me come over at least once,” he pleads, hands grabbing yours. You know that your best friend looks up to your brother a ton, so you nod at him. “Sick, imma finally be able to talk music with him.”

“Wait, if Taeyong’s coming home for the entire summer,” Chaewon pauses, a knowing smile growing on her face as you groan, knowing exactly what she’s about to say next, “that means a certain Jeong Jaehyun will probably be following him back as well. And likely other kids in their year too from SNU… holy shit, the parties are gonna be literally insane this summer.” She throws her head back in elation as the realization strikes the three of you at once.

“You’re so right,” Mark covers his mouth to hide the smug grin taking over his face. He makes a heart with his hands as he observes you. “I can’t believe that I forgot Miss Y/N over here had the biggest crush on Jaehyun in high school.” You hit him on the chest in response as he absolutely loses it over your misfortune. 

“Lovergirl,” he sing-songs, adding fuel to the fire while you shove your face into your palms. Your cheeks warm on their own when your mind flash-backs to your second year of high school, your insufferable crush on your brother’s best friend surfacing memories that you had buried after they both had graduated two years ago.

“I’m leaving,” you mumble into your hands, “all you two do is make me suffer.” 

Chaewon grins at you before pulling your figure into a tight hug, tugging Mark in too by his shirt to join your little group. 

“It’s out of love,” she giggles before kissing your cheek with an exaggerated muah. Turning slowly towards Mark, he lets out a, “nope nope nope,” before scrambling away from Chaewon’s outstretched arms.

Smiling at their antics, you collect your few belongings and tuck some new records under your arm before heading out of the shop. Saluting your friends goodbye and opening the front door, you cringe at the wave of heat that seeps into the cool space. 

“Say hi to Taeyong for me, Y/N! We’ll lock up for today,” Chaewon calls out from behind the counter, sending you an air kiss when you step out into your town’s center square.

The streets buzz with life as you make the quick walk back to your house. With a brilliant sunset soaking the streets in tangerine tones and a line of quaint shops’ wind chimes fluttering beside you, you can’t bring yourself to care about the heat. The alleys you stroll down are comfy, lined with the latest pastel DeLoreans and colorful paper garlands tied along their telephone lines. It’s a complete memory lane, and your comfy suburb — filled with traditional gaewa roofs and terracotta neutrals, clay-red stained roads and gated hanoks — hold a familiarity that no other could replace. It’s the more cramped side of town, and you might envy Taeyong’s thrilling city life that you see through his social media, but nothing will ever beat home.

Your lace camisole sticks to your skin with fervor as you finally get to your own address, letting out a sigh of relief when cool shade encompasses you in the juniper-tinted light of the mudroom. Setting your brand-new records onto the kitchen floor, their faded titles peeking over thin paper sheaths, you make yourself comfortable on the floor as you hum to yourself. The house is quiet.

You put one of the new records into your player before your gaze drifts over to a stack of pictures on the tabletop, filtered evenly between stray letters and tacky postcards that your older brother has always had a knack for. 

In addition to texting and calling home every month, Taeyong made it a habit a few years ago to send you the little magazine cut-outs and mini posters that he sees on his escapades, trinkets that remind him of you. Your little kitchen-counter-collection has thinned out in the past months as your brother got increasingly busier with school and his modeling jobs, barely coming home for a few days before rushing back for castings and elite functions. Nonetheless, a little orange package addressed to you would appear at your doorstep with each change of the seasons, tinged with your brother’s cologne and topped with his messy handwriting.

Just as you place the needle on a shiny black record with Missy Elliot’s face plastered across its front, you hear the front door creak open before noises of rolling luggage and playful shouting fill the house's interior. 

“Mom, I’m not ten anymore,” you hear Taeyong whine in the higher-pitched voice he reserves solely for family, the telltale sign of his embarrassment, “I can carry my backpack myself. Promise.”

You can imagine the scene before you even see it: your brother looking away to the window as he tries to fight the smile creeping on his face, your mother on her tip-toes as she musses with her son’s hair even though he’s a head taller, and of course, your father leaning against the door with a content grin as his watches his wife’s face light up with happiness that the family is together again.

When you hear their footsteps near your seated figure on the kitchen floor, you feel your brother’s presence before you even see him. 

Taeyong stops a few paces away from you, dropping his bag carelessly on the ground before standing with his arms outstretched and eyebrows raised. With his messy hair and airport clothes still hanging off his shoulders, your brother looks like a favorite uncle at holiday dinners when he hasn’t seen his favorite niece and nephew all year.

“Aren’t you gonna come say hi to your best friend before you abandon me for your vinyls again,” he teases before crossing the threshold in three steps and embracing you fully. “It’s been a while, hmm rockstar?” 

You hum at the familiar term of endearment, sinking into his figure as your brother rocks you back and forth. You look up at him, his face looking more mature and sharp than when you saw him last.

“You gotta catch me up on that crazy life of yours, yeah? We have all summer.”

Nodding contently, you follow your brother and parents into the dining room for dinner before settling back into the feeling of having four people at home again. Just like the old days, before Taeyong left, where your worries were limited and you allowed yourself to be childish.

…

If anything makes you glad you’re alive, it’s being able to wake up at 2pm in the afternoon on a Thursday and feeling you just gained ten years. It’s truly a blessing, and if you were a bit more religious, you’d be thanking God right now for no school and black-out curtains.

Quickly getting ready, you give one last glance at yourself in the mirror before rushing downstairs to see if anyone’s home still. To your surprise, you catch Taeyong right as he’s opening the door to the basement. 

“So she’s alive,” he calls out with an approving nod, surprised that you actually managed to wake up before the sun sets once again. You roll your eyes as you pull cereal in front of you on the kitchen table. The two of you are back to your old ways in a matter of hours, making fun of each other at every chance you get.

“It’s not my fault you don’t know how to enjoy life, Tae,” you shrug, grabbing leftovers from the fridge. He simply tsks at you before walking over to affectionately ruffle your hair, drawing a complaint from you about messing it up.

“Anyway, some of my old friends are coming over today to catch up. We’re probably gonna be downstairs for a while so just let them in the front when they come,” your brother relays, moving back towards the basement when you throw up an okay sign. He gives you a knowing look. “You’re always welcome to join, you know. They all love you.”

You crinkle your nose at the idea. Sure, you’re pretty familiar with most of Taeyong’s high school friends, but you really aren’t too keen on the idea of spending your afternoon with a bunch of older boys when you could be hanging out with Mark and Chaewon.

“I’m okay. You guys have fun, though.”

Resuming your attention on your food, you open the front door a couple times over the next hour for said boys. Their features chiseled, styles changed, and voices a bit deeper, they’re all caught by surprise when you open the door for them (Yuta’s inability to recognise you at all really takes the cake). You suppose that a lot can change in two years.

After the seventh ring of the doorbell, you sigh in exasperation before making your way to the front once again. You grumble under your breath before opening the door, the bitter expression wiping right off your face when you see the two figures in front of you.

“Johnny!”

“Y/N,” the familiar boy exclaims, his towering stature enveloping you in a warm hug before pulling back and examining your growth. “Look who’s all pretty and grown! You look so much like Taeyong now that it’s scary,” he beams at you while turning your face side to side with his hands, and you can’t help but return it. If anyone was as much of an older brother figure as your real one was, it would be Johnny. 

“Hey,” a voice sounds out besides him after a few moments of Johnny’s compliments, startling you, and your eyes finally flick over to the subject of your teenage years’ daydreams. Your heart floods with a jittery feeling when he reaches out to give you a hug. “It’s nice to see you again, Y/N.” 

Jeong Jaehyun hasn’t changed a bit since you last saw him at your brother’s graduation. 

His hair is a bit longer now, dark brown curls shimmering gold in the sunlight and his ears now adorned with more silver studs and rings. But the sun-kissed freckles dusting his nose, the deep-set dimples, the starry eyes — they’re exactly the same as you remember.

He’s still breathtaking.

Johnny bursts your little moment as he grabs your arm to lead you back into your house, pulling both you and Jaehyun along with him to the basement entrance. 

Even though you’re painfully aware of your fingers nervously playing with the bracelets on your wrist, it’s true that these boys practically watched you grow up. Even when you look at a certain brown-eyed boy, your whole world feels like it's stopping. Even when your stupid childhood crush on your brother’s best friend was supposed to be gone by now. You know them, and they know you.

After Johnny and Jaehyun disappear down the stairs with a small goodbye and the invitation to join them once again, you head back up to your own room, collapsing onto your bed and staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars plastered across your ceiling. 

You remember your brother and Jaehyun setting them up for you many years ago, their young figures using your bed as leverage to stick them on when you were still too short to reach. You had handed each star carefully to the boys, making sure the adhesive side was up before telling them where to place each one. They waited patiently for you to give them every star until the whole box was empty, the three of you high fiving before you had thanked them enthusiastically. Taeyong had simply pinched your cheek and said, “anything for my baby sister,” before pulling Jaehyun away to play another video game in the living room. 

Taeyong was a kind older brother, never complaining when your mother told him to bring you with him and his friends on their little adventures. Occasionally he found you annoying, but his friends never minded your presence, so he couldn’t find a reason to either. You were integrated into their daily outings, the boys taking turns talking and playing games with you as the days progressed.

You think your liking to Jaehyun started then: when your young mind easily confused admiration with puppy love. Your brother’s friends were the nicest boys you had met, certainly nicer than the boys in your class at school. Jaehyun specifically always made sure you were comfortable, making silly faces at you when your eyes met across the room and remembering to bring you snacks from across the street when he got some for his best friend. He was perfect in your eyes.

When you started hanging out more with your own friends as you got older, things never really changed regarding your feelings for the boy. Your secret crush was still as prominent as ever, eyes following his mess of hair whenever he passed you in the hallway at school; it didn’t help that his name was passed around no matter what year you were. Jaehyun this and Jaehyun that, you were definitely not the only girl whose heartbeat stopped whenever he looked their way. He was polite, confident, and undeniably charming, your school’s beloved basketball team captain and a favorite of teachers: the kind of boy everyone wanted to be out of envy, but couldn’t. He was truly untouchable. Your classmates would stare at you in awe when he waved at you through the classroom entrance, telling you how lucky you were that your brother and his group were so cool and how you had guys like Jaehyun over all the time. 

But it wasn’t like it was any different at home, where he would smile at you just the same as you worked on your homework in the kitchen before retreating back into the basement with Taeyong. 

Even though fifteen year-old you thought your feelings were pretty damn strong at that time, the age gap felt a bit too gaping where kids two years older felt worlds away. By seventeen, they were already off driving and taking weekend trips, your brother’s license making leeway for nights when he and his friends wouldn’t return until sunrise. It felt a little bit like you had been left behind, and yeah, it sucked, but you decided right then and there that you could have fun without them. Taeyong’s friends weren’t necessarily yours in the first place, and you came to the realization that it might have been strange for you to be so close with them at an older age anyway.

If you were sad about not seeing Jaehyun in particular too much anymore, you tried not to show it. Your best friends — Mark and Chaewon — had always known, teasing you relentlessly when the older boy was around, but the idea of him was only a lingering thought at the back of your mind when he graduated. Your ears still perked up hearing his name in passing, but you had your own problems to consume your thoughts and started getting into a new genre of trouble with your friends; the idea of Jaehyun was supposed to be dead and buried six feet under.

So then why was he plaguing your mind like this after years of successfully not thinking about him?

You groan and throw an arm over your face.

Shit.

…

“My little film-maker,” a voice pops up from above you, the grinning face of your brother accompanying it as he surprises you into oblivion. You make a face up at him and offer a reluctant little wave before returning back to your camcorder, zooming in on Chaewon beside you.

You’re on the asphalt outside your house again. The air’s cooler today, a gray sheet of clouds blocking any of the sun’s rays from reaching your golden trio. With your head on Mark’s legs, he strums his guitar gently as Chaewon hums along to the familiar tunes. Her hands are busy on their own, one arm out while her other uses markers to draw a garden into her skin with washed-out blues and oranges. 

You turn the camera around to point at Taeyong, the said boy poking his tongue out before plopping down beside Mark.

“I feel like I always find you guys on the ground,” he mutters, observing the way Mark strums his instrument with care and experience. Your friend looks a little intimidated with the proximity of Taeyong leaning towards him, but he plays on nevertheless.

You shrug. “It’s more comfortable.”

“And we’re a little closer to Hell down here,” Chaewon adds on with a grin, pausing from her flesh-art to look up at Taeyong. “We’ll all be heading there soon anyway.”

“Smart girl,” he laughs out, throwing his head back to stare into the sky. He stays there for a good moment before jumping back up onto his feet and twirling a shiny set of car keys around his fingers. “Anyway, I’m afraid I’ll have to steal Y/N for a bit,” your brother fakes a trail of tears down his cheek with his fist. “Don’t miss her too much.”

“Never,” Mark smirks at you, reaching out to pat your arm affectionately when you let out an offended, Oscar worthy sob at his words. 

“Don’t have more fun with him than you do with us, babe,” she calls out as Taeyong drags you off. You salute her back before she turns back to her painting.

Stumbling behind your brother to catch up with his long strides, your eyebrows raise when you catch sight of his infamous red Cadillac parked down the winding road. You grip on tighter to your camcorder before jogging up to the passenger side, ready to swing your legs over the side of the convertible. 

“Not so fast,” Taeyong calls out, amused, as he strolls up casually to the driver's side. “We’re picking up some of the guys and Johnny already called shotgun yesterday. Take it up with him, rockstar.”

You splutter indignantly before crossing to the backseat with a huff, sinking into the car’s tan, leather seats and crossing your arms. “Not fair, Tae,” you complain at him before he starts the engine, starting off in the direction of an area you’ve never been before. “Where are we even going?”

He doesn’t answer.

Soon enough, three more bodies crowd into your brother’s car after dropping by Jungwoo’s condo, the boy squishing into the back with you as Jaehyun of all people slides into the seat on the other side of you. They offer smiles and quick greetings to you before the car takes off once again. 

His proximity hits you far harder than Jungwoo’s, and you know exactly why. You keep your head tilted away from him as you try to focus on Johnny in the front seat, who’s passionately retelling an encounter he had at the supermarket this morning. It’s incredibly hard when Jaehyun moves and his thigh touches yours, fifteen year-old you coming back to life within you and screaming all sorts of insane things at your brain. You can physically feel his warmth radiating off his skin. 

“—so we both reach out at the same time, and luckily, I snatch the crate right before her hands do. But,” Johnny pauses to look through the rearview mirror for dramatic effect, his shades glinting as the Cadillac speeds through dusty roads. “You won’t believe who those hands belonged to.”

He stills with the skill of an A-list actor, reaching up to pluck the sunnies off his face and stare right into Jaehyun’s eyes through the silver glass.

“Lim Saemi.”

Everybody has a different reaction to the name-drop, with Jungwoo and Taeyong’s gasp and your muffled noise ringing out as your eyes widen in the slightest. You try to glance at Jaehyun subtly, and his face doesn’t flicker a bit from its usual stoic expression, but you can feel him tense up next to you before relaxing a few seconds later. He appears seemingly unphased, and if you had not been watching carefully from out of the corner of your eye you would have fallen for it.

You know better, though.

“Oh? Is she back home for the summer too?” Jaehyun throws out casually, tucking his chin in his hand as he looks out through the wind. 

“Wait Jae… you didn’t know? I thought if anyone would know first, it would be you,” Jungwoo leans back, surprised at this new development. “Even I knew, and everyone knows I don’t catch onto shit.”

“It’s whatever,” Jaehyun mumbles, deflecting the weird looks he receives. He ends the conversation with two words, and the car falls into silence with the only noises being those from tires against gravel. You glance at him before staring straight forward through the dash.

You know Lim Saemi.

Who doesn’t, in all honesty. Saemi is Saemi, and you’d be the weird one if you hadn’t heard her name at least once throughout your school years. She was like straight out of a Dior catalog. With as much impact as your older brother and his posse had left, she was everything all the girls in your year wanted to be: too pretty to be unnecessarily shallow, too smart to use her looks irrationally. 

You remember Lim Saemi.

She’s two years older, like Taeyong and Jaehyun and Johnny. She was the girl who was occasionally over at your house during parties when your brother would force you upstairs, her bleached hair and delicate features drawing in everyone immediately. You remember watching from the top of the stairwell as her figure still captured attention in the darkness of winter’s pitch black nights. From your outside point of view, it was like she was the center of a spindling web that stretched throughout the bottom floor of your house; people just couldn’t help but be lured to her.

You wanted to be Lim Saemi.

Just for one day. You needed to know what it felt like to be the center of a certain boy’s affections, even though she attracted every other person’s along the way as well. She was a different type of suburban it-girl, one that everyone was sure would get snatched up into the celebrity world sooner or later with the way she carried herself.

You knew that Jaehyun and Saemi had always been “just friends” — or at least that was what they told everyone — but you could tell he had liked her throughout their high school years. How could you not, especially when you looked at him the same way he looked at her. Back then, it was more curiosity about their complicated relationship than hate fueled jealousy for you. You still couldn’t help but imagine him treating you with the affection he did with her; even as a teenager, you understood why. And ironically, as you sit in the backseat of your brother’s car with the very boy right beside you, the bubbling feeling of envy is uncomfortable in your gut.

Shaking your head out of your retrospective thoughts, you look around in confusion when the convertible starts to slow on a thinning road, towering evergreens blocking the sky from view.

Leading the car through another winding path, it emerges on the other side within acres of grassy fields and wildflower paths that circles a grandiose, central estate home. Marble blocks stretch across its stone ledges like ivy — an intimidating facade if you’ve ever seen one. Taeyong looks at you through the rearview mirror. His eyes crease in pride when he sees the wonder in yours, enraptured by the sight before you. 

“Remember when Johnny said that he’d always wanted to go to a local car show?” your brother starts, grinning at his friend beside him. “Well, yours truly saw an ad at the record shop yesterday for one just outside of town. Someone compliment me, I feel like I just made all of our afternoons a thousand times better.”

“This is actually insane, Yong,” Jungwoo breathes out, eyes widening at the unfamiliar setting. 

Retro cars of all brands and models are parked across an acre, their shiny coats glinting in the sun as masses of people linger near and talk amongst themselves. The white pillars of whoever’s home is hosting the car show serves as a gathering place for lovers to mingle, precariously held champagne flutes an ironic contrast to the grit and dirt of the event itself.

Johnny lets out a low whistle before resting his weight on the center console and lowering his sunglasses, observing the scene. 

“This is exactly my type of place. Old, rich people and hot girls.” 

“Oh my god, Johnny,” you laugh out, not at all surprised that those words came from his mouth. 

You tear your gaze away from the outside view to look at Jaehyun after hearing his embarrassed groan at Johnny’s words. To your surprise, he’s already looking at you. With his piercing gaze on your face, you look away, flustered, playing it off with a small cough.

Taeyong parks his timeless Cadillac besides others of the same nature before leaving to roam around with Johnny and Jungwoo, buzzing with excitement. It’s no surprise that they make their way over to the group of girls huddled around a vintage truck model first, their giggles ringing out across the field as they throw sly glances to the boys headed their way. You catch sight of your brother leaning towards one in particular before deciding you’ve seen enough and turning to explore by yourself.

Thrilled to be left to your own devices, you follow your own little path off to the side towards a pastel-colored Corvette that had caught your eye earlier. Circling it for a few minutes and capturing it slowly through the lens of your camcorder, you smile happily to yourself while replaying the footage in the shade of a lonely willow tree. The cool breeze brings tangs of clementines and vanilla — from where, you don’t know — as well as the unmistakable scent of petrol and cigarettes as it picks up pieces of your hair before rustling the leaves of the willow.

“Can I see?” a familiar voice startles you. You look up to see Jaehyun’s lean figure making his way over to your crouched one, gesturing to your open camera with his head tilted. “If you’re comfortable, of course,” he adds, the corners of his lips quirking up. Mouth agape slightly for a few seconds, you shake yourself out of your momentary funk and nod, thrilled at his interest.

“The colors show up really well with this lighting, especially ‘cuz I just changed my saturation settings,” you mumble, stopping yourself when you realize he probably doesn’t care that much. Tucking your knees to your chest, you wait nervously as you hand the device to him.

You think your heartbeat just about stops when he replies with a “that’s so cool” under his breath.

Jaehyun holds the camera carefully to his chest before sitting down beside you, leaning against the tree trunk before flipping through your gallery. He takes his time watching every little video clip and picture, giving you a little noise of approval every few clicks. 

You’re caught off guard when he sighs and puts the camcorder back in your lap, turning to you with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen grace his features. 

“Y/N, you seriously might be better at this shit than the literal mixed media majors at my uni,” he deadpans. Taken aback, you can’t stop the rosy warmth that creeps up your cheeks. “I’m being so for real right now. Don’t ever stop.”

You pause.

“Do you know how reassuring that is to hear, especially from you?” you say with sincerity, holding eye contact with him.

“Hmm? Really, me?”

“Yeah. It feels like I’m doing something right, like I’m not wasting my time on a fruitless hobby.” Confessing one of your biggest fears to someone who’s familiar to you but not, close to you but not — now that’s probably one of the craziest things you’ve done this week, and you do a whole lot of crazy things in a week.

Jaehyun’s expression changes with your words. He doesn’t reply for a while, just seeming to take in the world around him with only his eyes. Looking from the drooping branches of the willow to its dirt-ingrained roots, his face is cast downwards with a faint, melancholic smile.

Now the mood is ruined, you think to yourself, bitter. Why do I always do this?

Before you can change the subject and move on from your awkward burt-out, he clears his throat. 

“You know, I admire you a lot Y/N. You and Taeyong,” he starts, the slim chain around his neck glittering in the afternoon sun when he turns back to you. “Both of you have always been unafraid to pursue the arts, even though I know how your strict parents are about future careers and all that. I wish I had the courage to just… do what I like instead of being a pushover with my dad. Maybe I would be doing music with your brother instead of barely living day by day in pre-med.”

His usual confident eyes are tinged with regret and a little vulnerability as he ruffles his hair in the wind. You tilt your head at him, trying to come up with comforting words when you aren’t so sure if you’re qualified to give him advice in the first place.

“Well… I admire you a lot, Jaehyun. You’ve always been that one person who consistently looks like they have their life in check, someone who’s able to put their all in everything that they do. It’s really a quality to be proud of,” you say to him honestly. “I think you’ll do well wherever you end up. So don’t worry too much, okay?”

The boy stares at you like no one’s ever said that to him, and no one has; even if this might be a passing comment for you, it’s something that he feels relief to finally hear.

“Thanks.” He says it so quietly that you almost miss it, but you can hear the gratefulness in his voice nevertheless. You both look away for a few seconds when a brilliant yellow bird flutters past the two of you, settling on the ground in front to peck at a white speck in the soil. “Pretty,” he mumbles under his breath, blinking at the animal.

And with that, Jaehyun shakes his head a bit before resuming back to his relaxed demeanor. He lets out a breath of air and runs his tongue over his teeth. 

“Sorry for getting so deep all of a sudden,” he apologies, sheepishly rubbing his neck as you let out a little laugh.

“No, it’s nice to hear that the Valentine Boy has troubles too,” you tease lightly, recalling the God-like aura he used to carry 24/7 when you were younger and the nick-name that followed him around as a result. Jaehyun visibly cringes at your words, no doubt getting high school flashbacks.

“Not that,” he replies, embarrassed. “Anyway, I feel like I haven’t gotten the chance yet to ask you how you’ve been these past few years.” You glance up at him in surprise. He sounds strangely sincere for someone you weren’t that close with out of your brother’s friends, and the confusion must show on your face because he finds it in himself to clarify. “Oh come on, Y/N. I feel like we’ve known each other since forever but I’ve missed a crucial part of your growing up. You’re like a whole different person now.”

“I’d hope so,” you lament, fiddling with your camcorder. “I’ve gone through too much shit to be the same as sixteen-year old me.” Jaehyun laughs out loud at your answer, knowing exactly how you feel as someone who was once a fresh, high school graduate.

“Yeah? Well it seems like just yesterday when you were complaining about being bored after school from not having enough homework—” he stumbles over his words when you push his body with a light shove, the boy barely able to get breaths in with how much he’s laughing at your past cluelessness of how hard high school would really be.

“None of you guys warned me about the horror of calculus, so that is not my fault Jaehyun,” you pout, shaking your head at him.

“So it’s my fault?” he smiles, questioning your statement.

“Yes.” A lie.

“And I’m the reason why you almost failed second semester math?”

“Yes.” Another lie. Wait. “What— how do you even know about that?” You demand, incredulous. Jaehyun just raises his eyebrows and hides his growing grin behind his hand. “Fucking Lee Taeyong.”

He looks overjoyed at your seething, playfully poking out his bottom lip in a mock-frown before getting up and dusting off his pants. Offering a hand to you, Jaehyun uses his strength to pull you to your feet; you’re hyper-aware of the warmth of his palm as your hands linger for a millisecond before he pulls away. 

I’m so screwed, you think to yourself, blinking at the sky with fervor. Shaking your head, you tuck your hand to your side and try not to think of his skin on yours.

“They’re finally done flirting,” he notes with a hum, making an acute observation as you both spy the three other boys heading back to the car, their reluctant forms obvious when you see one girl hold up her hands in a ‘call me’ sign.

Smirking, you skip ahead of Jaehyun before turning back and waving your wallet at him.

“25000 won that we’ll see one of those girls walk out of Tae’s room tomorrow morning,” you chant as Jaehyun jogs to catch up with you. Chuckling, he pushes your wallet away.

“Nah, that man doesn’t give a fuck about the time of day. 25000 that she’s gonna be at your house in twenty,” he counters, snorting when you gag at the thought.

You can’t help but light up at his content face; this feels like this is the first time you’ve ever had a real, honest to goodness, conversation with him as a young adult.

And you’re in trouble, because you think you like it more than you should.

…

“I did it,” Chaewon confesses over the phone, the sound of a knife against a chopping board from her end revealing her current position.

“What,” you inquire, “you finally passed your license test?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Never.” You flash a wicked grin at the sheet music in your hands, shuffling through the never-ending leaflets. 

When Taeyong had said he’d pay you to organize his papers, you clearly weren’t thinking straight enough to be saying yes to this hell. He’s been out for an hour already and not even a third of the pile is sorted through. You slump forward on the couch and shake out your tired hands, groaning when your knuckle hits the coffee table with a painful thump.

“For your information, I don’t need to drive. Hot girls take public transportation,” she retorts with a humph.

“Can’t argue with you there, passenger princess.”

“Oh please, I can literally feel the sarcasm dripping from your voice.”

You laugh, a “you know me, Chae” accompanying the sound ringing out through your empty house. Gathering Taeyong’s work into your arms and dumping the rest on the table, you slide onto the carpeted ground with a sigh. Your bones are overly sore from sitting for too long and the couches seams have made painful, little white imprints on your thighs. With a click of your tongue, you inwardly curse your brother for offering such good deals to a minimum wage paid, about-to-be uni kid, or else you wouldn't be spending a perfectly good Saturday afternoon on whatever this is.

“So,” you prompt, “what did you do this time.”

“Ha,” Chaewon starts.

“I’m scared.”

“Ran into Jaehyun today.”

“Aaand that’s my cue to hang up now,” you sing, slipping the phone between your shoulder and ear, the warm device tucked neatly in the crevice of your neck before you hear the sound of your doorbell ringing out. 

“Wait—”

“Hold on for a sec, Chae. Someone’s at the door.” 

You will yourself to get up from the carpet before making your way over to the front of the house, preparing yourself for a blast of hot summer air to hit you. The silver knob twists under your hand as you swing the door open slowly, expecting the mailman or a delivery on your front porch. Certainly not—

“—Hey.”

Your eyes flick up in surprise.

“Oh shit,” Chaewon whispers over the phone. “That’s not who I think it is, right?”

It’s been a week since you last saw Jaehyun face to face, and your conflicted inner thoughts have been battling in your conscience for the entirety of it. Well, this isn’t great.

“Hi Jaehyun,” you manage to sound out, mentally chastising yourself for sounding so nervous.

“And that’s my cue to hang up now,” the voice at the other end of your call snickers, the long beep of it ending blaring into your ear. 

Your arm drops to your side, phone in hand, as you stare pointedly at Chaewon’s contact info lighting up the screen, her eyes mocking you through her profile picture. Jaehyun lifts an eyebrow as he looks between your phone and your face, seemingly questioning if you’re currently busy through his eyes alone.

“Umm…” your gaze flits around in flusteration, looking just about anywhere but him. “Taeyong’s not home right now, if that’s why you’re here.”

“Oh? Do you know when he’ll be back?” he asks, relaxed as he leans his body against the doorframe.

“He’s picking up stuff from Johnny’s across town, so like,” you glance up at the clock, “an hour? I could uh… call you when he gets back if you want.”

Jaehyun simply pokes his tongue into his cheek in contemplation before tucking his hands into his pockets.

“Nah, it’s okay. I’ll just stay.” With a small smile, he adds on, “if you're okay with that, of course.”

You peer past him to see his shiny black Mustang sitting in front of your house, before returning to your original position and shrugging at the foyer. Losing your shyness momentarily as you let out a puff of air, you follow Jaehyun in before deciding to answer.

“My company is a blessing in itself, isn’t it,” you think out loud, displaying a cheeky smile when Jaehyun turns around to playfully scoff at you.

“Now that’s a sure thing, Y/N.” 

The boy seats himself on one of the kitchen barstools and places his chin in his hand, leaning over the counter to stare at you as you busy yourself with the fridge.

In all honesty, you weren’t prepared to see him again. He’s already been occupying your mind a little too much for your liking during this past week, the idea of his return to your life teetering you on the edge of insanity. You didn’t know high school crushes hit that hard two years later, and it certainly doesn’t help that his golden skin and constellation of tawny freckles have made an almost daily appearance in the Lee household — just like the old times.

“I think we still have that special glass-bottled lemonade from the farmer’s market last weekend, unless,” you pause, sifting through the multitude of items in the ice box. “Yup. Nevermind. Taeyong finished all of them.”

Jaehyun snorts, already familiar with his best friend’s midnight tendencies of clearing out the fridge whenever, wherever.

“We also have water? And um… milk. And Vodka.”

“This sounds like Yuta’s fridge, and that thought alone is like, genuinely terrifying,” Jaehyun observes from behind you. You shake your head, recalling the first time you saw the said boy’s freezer stash of condiments and liquor at a house party a few years ago. Only condiments and liquor.

“Oh! And cold noodles,” you hold up the container with a little shake. “I remember you liking my mom’s version of them,” you mumble quietly, willing yourself to turn around when the cold air from the fridge starts to sting your eyes.

Jaehyun observes you curiously, a question at the tip of his tongue. You remember?

He stops himself from blurting it out when you seat yourself across from him and push the container towards his direction.

“You practically live here anyway. Help yourself,” you say a bit louder, embarrassed about the fact that you remember such a miniscule detail about him.

You squint at the countertop — which you honestly wish would swallow you whole — as Jaehyun moves around you to pour himself a glass of water. His muscles strain against his loose t-shirt as he moves around your kitchen with familiarity, and you turn away with wide eyes when you realize you’ve spaced out while staring at his back.

It’s a situation that younger you would have never imagined; you had simply never been left in a room with him alone. Your brother and his other friends were always there, a subtle reminder of the distance between you two and the fact that he was probably still worlds away.

But you’re an adult now, and it’d be a lie if you said that you don’t want Jaehyun to notice you in that way.

Feelings are too complicated to think about sober. You grimace to yourself, pressing two fingers against your temple as you lean your cheek against the cool, hard marble of the countertop.

“Y/N?” you lift your head up at your name, flinching back in surprise when Jaehyun’s face appears at the edge of your vision, his figure buzzing with excitement as he gapes at you. “This is yours, right?”

Your eyes drift to the black canisters in his palm. My film.

“Oh yeah— wait. I forgot to develop those ones,” you make your way over and take the undeveloped film rolls into your hands, the boy observing you with wide eyes.

“That’s sick. Do you develop them yourself?” 

“Hm? Nah, I bring them to the camera store downtown. Left them in the fridge to preserve for a while so they should be good to go now.”

It’s only when you look up from the canisters that you spy his expression, the pure giddiness painted on his features catching you off guard. Jaehyun’s body language tells you that he is unnervingly thrilled about his new discovery.

“You were never into this kind of stuff when Taeyong and I were still here in high school,” he brings up slowly, letting the words sit on his tongue before following you when you head towards the stairs. “If I had known…” he trails off, pursing his lips to the side so that his notorious dimples show.

You peer at him over your nose bridge curiously. If he had known, he would've what?

Jaehyun pokes his tongue into his cheek and furrows his brows, thinking about the times when he was over at your house after school and you would be nowhere to be seen. Is the dark room where you were, or were you out taking pictures at the rink and shooting short films with your friends? Maybe at the park with your old camcorder and skateboard? The fact that he never knew about so many of your hobbies is almost troubling considering how long he’s known you, and it makes him shift in place. He supposes he never really took the time to know his best friend’s little sister, but looking at you as you stare back, you’re so much more than that. 

Had you always shared so much in common?

“Well, imma go upstairs and watch a movie,” you resume your climb before pointing upward. “You can come up until Tae comes home, if you want?”

The boy glances at the door momentarily, contemplating how Taeyong would react if he found him in his sister’s room. Would he kill me? Maybe.

He shrugs. Fuck it, I could totally beat him in a fight, Jaehyun reasons, smiling to himself. He doesn’t know how he reached that conclusion, but he thinks he’s joking. Mostly.

“The real question is, what’re we watching? If it’s some romcom shit I’m leaving,” Jaehyun raises a challenging brow with his smirk as he follows you nonetheless, hand following yours dangerously close on the wooden handrail.

“Not my problem you’ve got no taste.”

“Oh please,” he rolls his eyes, pushing his body into view as you push open your bedroom door, “I might actually die if I see DiCaprio’s face one more time, and you can’t tell me it’s not you that has all of his movies in the living room cabinet, ‘cause they’re definitely not your brother’s.”

“That seems a bit of a personal issue between you and him, Jaehyun,” you let out a laugh with your words. Turning around to flick on the light switch, you’re met with his face closer than it was before. “What.”

“What?” he repeats, almost mockingly. “Oh, sweetheart. You think this face isn’t DiCaprio level?”

Your face heats up without your consent, flustered at the sudden proximity and the fact that you most definitely think Jaehyun’s better than all of your favorite actors combined. You would never admit that to him for the life of you, though.

You swallow before pushing him lightly, making your way into the center of your bedroom.

“Admit it,” he sings, not giving up as he relentlessly parks himself in front of you with his legs set further apart so that he can look at you at eye level. “I bet even Ji Chang-wook’s got nothing on me.”

“Woah woah woah,” you gasp in offense, throwing a hand up to your chest. “Now that’s crossing the line, buddy. Ji Chang-wook’s got something on everybody.”

“I bet,” Jaehyun drawls out sarcastically, eyes flipping to the ceiling ludicrously slow. He seems to glitch for a few seconds, mouth open but no words coming out. “Especially with the way his face is plastered… on… your ceiling? You fall asleep to that?”

Your eyes widen when you have the sudden realization that Jeong Jaehyun is in your room, in your personal space, looking at your things. And that most certainly includes the poster of Ji Chang-wook next to the plastic stars above your bed, glassy, plastic-y eyes staring down at your ruffley bed sheets and everything. In your defense, it was the result of a lost dare — but he doesn’t know that. Wow, you think to yourself, regretting all of your life decisions, I’m just so good at first impressions.

“Yes,” you give up somewhat dejectedly, offering him a (hopefully) confident smile before pulling a projector from under your bed and setting it up on your bedside table.

Jaehyun just shrugs and seats himself on your bed, muttering a little “cute” that you miss before observing as you give the machine a few good slaps so it’ll turn on. Settling against the wall, he lets his eyes flutter over your decor and multitude of things plastered across every inch of your space. If anything, the way your room’s changed since the last time he was in it gives him an outlook into your life that he wouldn't have known otherwise. 

From the blockbuster movie ads on your door to the unfiltered sunlight reflecting off your mirror, the shoelaces tied around your closet door to the origami threaded around your ceiling fan, he feels like he’s falling. Maybe, just maybe, he even finds a bit of himself in the painted shoe boxes shoved under your desk and your circular record shelf. Even the stars he and Taeyong stuck on years ago are still there too. He recognizes bits and pieces here and there, but thrown together in one place, a cohesive picture forms in front of him. It’s suffocating — in a good way — as if he’s been thrown into the unknown and is hit with a new side of you at full force; everything, everywhere, all at once.

“Ha!” you exclaim, holding out a fist for Jaehyun to bump when your projector flickers on. With a bright grin, you flop onto the bed beside him and wait for the whirring of the projector to start with a hollow click.

The beginning few seconds of the film you’ve chosen roll onto your makeshift movie screen, a white sheet hanging by its threads from your vanity, as the bright images light up your figures with a burning white.

Jaehyun figures out what you’ve done just as a familiar face blurs into view, the moving calligraphy of The Great Gatsby scrawled across your bedroom wall while you poke out your tongue at him, high off of the mere fact that you’ve gotten your way. You hear him let out a defeated sigh from beside you, his knee hitting yours as he settles into your comforter nevertheless.

“Sharp as hell, aren’t you. I should’ve known DiCaprio would show up in my sight sooner or later.”

…

Summer tastes like melted sugar crystals in cherry garcia  — or rather, summer tastes like Mark Lee’s Strawberry-Rouge Extravaganza, the latest, state-of-the-art item on his Record Shop menu. When you ask why the random French is thrown in there, he defends himself adamantly, claiming that his three years of secondary French language classes have practically made him a local.

“It’s like a metaphor for saying, ‘I love you,’” Mark claims with sass, even though you don’t make the connection (“That’s not what a metaphor is…?” you mumble quizzically under your breath). He ignores the weird look you throw at him and goes back to his mixing on the counter of the cashier station. “And it feels like a warm hug, because what better to express that than sparkly, drunk goodness.”

“Wow,” Chaewon deadpans, not even looking up from her nails that she’s painting right next to him. The mix of nail polish and liquor makes you scrunch your nose as you organize the main display, a rotating shelf that headlines Blondie. “You should be a poet. You have such a way with words.”

“I don’t need your negativity in my life, girly.” You almost choke on air when you hear a sharp snap of Chae’s gum in retaliation, her icy glare making Mark wilt under her gaze. 

Their intense, non-verbal argument is saved by the dinging of a customer opening the door to the shop. You whip around to greet them only for your words to die right in your throat. Two silhouettes step in, their tall stature and familiar features blocking the sun from shining through the entranceway.

“…Jaehyun, Jungwoo! How are you guys?” Mark offers when he sees you fall silent.

The two greet happily right back, sliding past you to pat him on the back and exchange handshakes. Jaehyun lingers by your side for a little, holding his fist out for you to tap like you did just the other day in your room.

“We knew we’d find you guys in here,” Jungwoo laments, looking around the shelves before his eyes land on Mark’s… setup. You have to admit, this one looks a bit more pleasant than his past drink recipes, and you can tell that Jungwoo agrees wholeheartedly. His hand lingers on a bottle of sparkling vanilla wine as Mark slices red fruit ardently with a plastic, cafeteria knife. A paper cup holds the rest of his special ingredients: rock candy on wooden sticks, shattered candy hearts, and star-shaped ice cubes. You’d be lying if you didn’t admit that it looked delicious, like something you would order at a beach-side bar. 

Jungwoo seems to find the situation amusing, a trio of barely-adults passing slow, withering days in their own little makeshift paradise. Leaning against the countertop like he’s on the cover of Parisian Vogue, he nicks his baseball cap up a bit higher to look into the three of yours’ eyes better.

“Johnny’s throwing a party.”

That’s all anyone needs to say before Chaewon’s attention is snagged, her eyes gaining an undeniable gleam.

“We’re going,” she speaks for everyone in the room, especially looking you square in the eyes as if saying, you’re not escaping this time, young lady.

“Mhm,” Jaehyun confirms, a hand rubbing at his pulse as he swings an arm over Jungwoo’s shoulders. “A fancy mixer, kinda, the day after tomorrow. We’ll have all the booze, so the only thing you need to bring is yourself.”

“And,” the latter chimes in, “it’s at Johnny’s countryside estate, so y’all can do whatever illegal shit you kids get yourself into without worrying about anything.”

Chaewon lets out a small scoff at his words, mumbling a “we still do here it anyway” under her breath and throwing a knowing look at the alcohol in front of Mark that’s very blatantly in every passerby’s sight.

As Jungwoo relays more information about the plans to them at the front of the shop, Jaehyun turns to follow your path as you diligently place records back in their places in the depths of the store. 

“Do you wear silver or gold?” 

You jump at his appearance out of nowhere, glancing at him with a certain hesitation at his question. Your confusion as to how this topic appeared so suddenly is painted blatantly across your face as you close the last turntable with a click. 

“Why?” You pause. “But both. Depends on my mood.”

“Because this is yours now.”

He reaches into his jeans’ front pocket, pulling out something in his fist before reaching for your hand and dropping a small, plastic ring in the middle of it. 

It’s neon orange and ugly as hell, like something you would find stuck to gum on the underbelly of a school desk. But hey, who are you to complain when Jaehyun looks so pleased at himself as he looks between your face and the ring, trying to gauge your reaction to his surprise gift. And, you’re definitely not complaining when it’s a gift from Jaehyun himself.

“Thank you…? Also,” you squint, picking up the ring to slide onto your pointer finger, “this isn’t silver or gold.” He shrugs half heartedly.

“Sucks to suck.”

You kick the tip of his Converse as he laughs with his whole body, the boy’s deep voice filling the small space. 

“It’s from the coin toy machine outside,” he explains. With a broad grin, he pulls his other hand from out of his pocket and waves it in your face. The whole rainbow has found its home on his fingers, all silly swirls and squiggles of nylon with glued on googly-eyes half falling off.

It’s the pure childish elation you share which makes you unknowingly sink deeper and deeper into the ocean that is Jeong Jaehyun, and you would have felt the metaphorical gasps of air your lungs so desperately need if not for the momentary distractions he provides. 

You suppose all of this is your own doing anyway. 

…

It feels as though Autumn has made a reverse pit-stop in the middle of summer. 

If not obvious by the way the seasonal trees are drooping with a sudden dewy chill, it’s the sudden absence of people in general that serves as a telltale sign. There’s almost no cars on the road, fewer students out and about, and less frequent public transportation. 

The last one in particular really speaks to Jaehyun.

Scrunching his nose at the crisp air, he exits the hole-in-the-wall café he usually frequents when he’s bored, the biting coldness of a mid-August day unfamiliar to him. The boy spent almost the entire day inside; switching between staring at the weather app on his computer and deleting emails from his overflowing inbox for two hours wasn’t the way he thought he’d spend the afternoon, but alas, waiting that long at the crumbling bus stop wasn’t ideal either. He much prefers being warm, caffeinated, and pretending to read a scientific journal than freezing his ass off on a metal bench. 

Anyone would think the same, Jaehyun shrugs to himself… at least until he starts nearing said bench.

Jaehyun stops mid-step when he spots something strange, side-eyeing the undeniably familiar blob crouching at the bus stop approaching on the right.

Why? Well, it's swathed in an oversized hoodie, has a keychain-ful backpack hanging low on its shoulders, and is suspiciously Y/N-shaped.

And if that doesn’t tell him anything, well, the way your eyes go comically wide when you turn to the right and coincidentally meet gazes with Jeong Jaehyun of all people definitely does. It’s the way he’s standing there like a runway model with his hood over his head, dimples on full show as he raises his eyebrows at you and his expensive-looking leather bag hanging off of one shoulder that almost causes you to fall over. Luckily, you pull yourself together before something embarrassing happens, like losing your balance and crashing into the road (not that it’s happened before, of course…). You’re well aware that you tend to get distracted easily, and you’re definitely in trouble because that man is one hell of a distraction.

Getting up quickly and dusting the invisible dust off your legs, you offer him an embarrassed wave as he approaches you.

“How long have you been sitting there? It’s fucking cold outside,” Jaehyun calls out, concerned, glancing down at your skirt and the way you hide your hands in your hoodie sleeves. Sidling up next to you, he bounces on the balls of his feet a little before stuffing his own hands in his pockets.

“It’s okay,” you smile down at the way your shoes match next to his on the sidewalk, “I’m used to the bipolar weather. Plus, it’s not that cold when you’ve got these!” Tucking your lip between your teeth, you rustle around in your sweater-paws before popping out your hands proudly in front of you. Nestled in your palms are old hand warmers, their heat fading but worth their purpose nonetheless.

“Only you would have hand warmers in stock during the middle of summer, Y/N,” he shakes his head in disbelief, but the smile threatening to take over his face makes his eyes crinkle up in amusement.

“Mhm,” you say, distracted as you see the bus pull up to the sidewalk from down the road, “I’ve got a whole box in my backpack. Who knows, maybe an ice storm will hit one day and I’ll be the only one with hands while everyone else’s freeze off.” 

He pauses in place, speechless at your comment. You simply shrug at him, as if saying that’s the way life goes, before nodding to the bus driver and climbing up the vehicle’s steps. “Don’t worry, I’d share mine with you.”

Jaehyun lets out a breath in disbelief. 

Your attitude is truly refreshing, and he can’t even begin to describe what a breath of clean air it is to talk to you everyday; he’s used to girls coming up to him with hidden intent, their eyes tinged with lust as they disguise their interest with false pretenses and flowery words. Flattery is what it began with, but after years of receiving nothing from their end while he found himself aimlessly hoping for someone genuine and it was disappointing that he couldn’t find even one. He’d wish they would just treat him normally and act like themselves, a person not afraid to be genuine with him and let their inner child show. 

It’s as he observes the way you hum as you climb up and give a playful salute to the driver that he realizes you’re the perfect balance of both, the maturity in you shining admirably at the times when it is needed while never acting like something you’re not.

Jaehyun blinks at your figure before tugging on your arm to move around you, swiping his bus pass twice before you can even register what’s happened. He lets a smug grin take over his face before pulling you to the back of the bus and plopping down beside you.

“Thank you for paying for me,” you tilt your head at him, tucking your card back into your pocket. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to, though.”

You give him a grateful smile before remembering something that you had meant to show him, pulling out the walkman you found in your grandmother’s cellar yesterday from your backpack, a dusty old thing that still works perfectly fine. Looping its built-in headphones around your neck, you tilt the player towards him before offering him the small device. Turning it around in his hands, he gapes in undeniable awe as he taps the plastic cover with intrigue. 

You knew he’d like it.

“I haven’t seen one of these in so long. Whose grave did you raid to get this, the hell?”

“Found it yesterday in my grandparent's cellar, and before Taeyong got his hands on it. I thought that you’d find it interesting so I was planning on showing you later this week, but hey, look who I happened to run into today.”

He simply shakes his head before bringing the machine up to his eyes and popping open its cover, a finger coming up to trace the dust out of the inside of it.

“Do you have a cassette to put in it or…?” he begins, looking up at you. You shake your head. “We can go to the vintage shop downtown later to get you some, if you want.”

“Really? You’ll go with me?”

“Yeah, Y/N. You’ve always got the coolest things to play around with, and we can go shove this in Yong’s face too. He’s gonna be so jealous.”

“You just wanna annoy my brother,” you snort, nudging his arm.

“You’ve got me there.” He holds up his hands in mock surrender before poking his tongue inside his cheek, eyebrows furrowing in thought. “Or… I could make you a personalized mixtape?” Your jaw drops comically, no words coming out of your mouth as you just stare at him.

“Are you being serious right now?”

“So, so serious.”

“If you did, I would actually lose my mind,” you finally close your mouth in amazement. “You’d probably be my favorite person ever.”

“Well, then that would be well worth it. I’ll work on it when I’m back in the studio at uni,” Jaehyun smiles genuinely, handing you your walkman back before swinging his leather bag back onto his shoulder as the bus pulls to a halt. With a parting pat on your shoulder, he mouths a goodbye before descending the aisle.

“This is my stop. See you at the party, Y/N.”

… 

When you had received the call on a quiet Saturday afternoon from Mark that he and Chaewon would be leaving earlier to help set up for Johnny’s weekend party — the one that Jungwoo and Jaehyun had only told you about just a few days prior — the possibility of not having a ride to bring you hadn’t even struck yet. You were too busy thanking your friends that they had granted you two more hours for an afternoon nap, and an extra 60 minutes to get ready; a truly ideal day in your opinion. 

It’s only when you’ve given yourself a final look in the mirror, admiring the new dress that you’ve donned at the last minute, do you hear the undeniable honk of a car outside. Brushing aside the curtains and trying to get your eyes to focus in the dark, you make a noise of panic when you spy Jaehyun’s car outside your house. 

What’s he doing here?

You'd spent far more time with Jaehyun in the past few days than you have in your entire lifetime, running small errands with him when Taeyong's not there and browsing through retro stores in nearby towns for old cassettes. With every hour more spent together, it felt like you were getting closer to knowing his feelings, and that in itself excited you to no end. He'd end every drive together with a knowing look and some sort of physical touch, and each goodbye left you in anticipation for the next time you'd see him.

Sprinting down the stairs and grabbing your shoes as fast as you can, you rush out into the street where the Mustang’s tinted windows prevent any passerby from making out any faces from the outside. 

As you approach the driver’s side, the window rolls down to reveal the owner of the car. 

“Hey,” Jaehyun grins at you, his pupils dilated and the faint smell of smoke lingering on his breath. 

It feels like forever since you’ve seen him, even if it’s only been a few hours since you last saw each other. You can feel your head fog up when you fully take in his appearance; with his hair slicked back and his button-up undone to reveal sharp collarbones and a dangling, silver cross, he looks godly as the moonlight basks him in a paper-white glow. 

“Chaewon and Mark had to stay later to help set up more and Taeyong’s been pregaming since six, so he sent me to pick you up. You can get in the back.”

You hum in understanding before climbing into the backseat, tucking your hands under your thighs before looking up at the front of the car. 

Your heart drops. 

“Hi,” the girl in the shotgun seat lilts, her bleached hair falling into wavy ringlets against Jaehyun’s leather seats. “Y/N, right? I remember you! You’re Yongie’s baby sis.”

You itch to fill the silence that follows, even though you assume she would have no trouble clearing it with her well-known, extroverted dynamic. There’s an unnamed tension in the car between the two people in the front seat, and it’s so intense that you could cut it with a knife.

You take shallow breaths, not sure what to make of your position. I’m sitting in a car with my crush and his former situationship— holy. How did we get to this point? She’s literally—

“—Lim Sae-mi,” you attempt to give her a genuine smile, flashing your teeth in what you pray isn’t an awkward expression. 

Saemi simply twinkles in the rear view mirror, her delicately painted lips stretching up before she twists around to observe you. 

“You do remember me! Look at how pretty you are too,” she exclaims, reaching back to pat down a strand of your hair, her voice laced with sticky sweetness. “You could be a model, just like Yongie. And your hair is so healthy, I’m jealous. Isn’t her hair so so nice, Jae?”

Jaehyun snaps to attention at the mention of his name, seeming to be in some sort of haze with the way he looks like he’s holding his breath for as long as humanly possible. 

“Yeah.” You find yourself wilting in the slightest at his monotone voice. Looking out the window as he starts driving towards the outskirts of town, you try not to let yourself be too disappointed at the way he loses such distinctive qualities when around the girl sitting next to him. 

Jaehyun freezes up when Saemi turns to him all doe-eyed, flashbacks flitting through his mind of the days when he’d anticipate the moments he’d see her again when they were younger. Strangely enough, the effect that she used to have on him — palpitating heart, nervous ticks, rosy cheeks, uncanny attraction — seems to have dissipated. Now, highschool-Jaehyun seems so far away, and their memories even further.

What’s changed?

“Um,” you start as you watch suburban lights zoom by less and less frequently, your brain working just as fast to eliminate some of the weird, awkward tension happening in the car. You don’t really know enough to make conclusions, but something must have happened in the past for them to react to each other like this. “How’s SNU? Do you guys run into each other often on campus?”

Jaehyun chuckles lowly, a tinge of uncertainty lining his tone as he waits for Saemi to answer your question. 

“Right, you’re going to uni next year right? Hmm… we don’t really see each other on campus at all, now that I think about it,” she simpers, frowning at the road in front of her before brightening up in less than a second. “But that's because Jae’s so busy, preparing to be a future doctor and all. He was always the smartest one out of all of us.”

You watch as he falls silent, knuckles tightening on the steering wheel as his jaw clenches ever so slightly.

“Hey, we should catch up sometime Jae,” she adds on with a tone like she doesn’t really mean it before turning her gaze to him, tacking on a noise of agreement with herself as if she's already decided that they will. 

She knows they won’t.

You watch their eyes meet briefly before Jaehyun breaks it to turn the steering wheel left onto a never-ending stretch of a lone, empty road.

Saemi’s a hard person to figure out. You know that she’s charming when she wants to be and firm when she needs to be, but you also know from Taeyong that she has a personality she can flip on and off like a switch; it’s almost as if mind games with the people around her are amusing, and it’s up to the other person to figure out what her true intentions are. It’s understandable why so many people find her alluring. 

Glancing up at the back of her head once more, you observe as she leans back with a faint frown before swallowing something in her hand that looks like a bottled shot. She looks uncomfortable as she shifts in her seat every few minutes, and you’re not sure if she’s more put off by the alcohol or by Jaehyun. Your guess would be the latter, even if her voice makes it seem like she’s the most confident person in the world.

You don’t even attempt to start another conversation, instead opting to roll down the window so that you can watch empty land flash by, an occasional plant breaking the smooth ground. The car picks up speed on its own with no other vehicle in sight, the only light coming from the rising crescent moon and a solo gas station situated further down the road.

The three of you perk up as you approach the oil refill and the only other car at the station, a big pick-up with dressed-up figures leaning out of its windows and sitting around the back cargo bed. You assume they’re heading to the same place you are with the way they all shout at each other as they pass a dark bottle back and forth. A boy gets out of the driver’s seat to walk over to Jaehyun’s car and lean through Saemi’s side of the window, shades pushed up into his hair and beads and cuban links dangling out of his shirt. You don’t recognize him, but you’re not surprised when Johnny knows just about every young person in the world.

“Jaehyun, man! And Saemi, damn, I haven’t seen you guys in a while. Headed to Johnny’s?” he exclaims with a loud voice and wide smile, reaching in to pat a long-lost friend on the shoulder. Just like that, the extroverted Jaehyun and Saemi are back, conversing with him as if their awkward energy and off demeanors didn’t just dictate the ride over. 

The guy notices you in the back when your eyes meet accidentally, both of you taken aback.

“And who might this be?” He smirks at you, gaze never leaving yours as he directs the question to the other two in the car. You smile back just to be friendly, but with the way he’s staring at you, you’re not sure if that’s the right way to go about things.

“Lee Taeyong’s sister,” Jaehyun speaks up, glimpsing back at you with an unreadable look. A look of recognition flashes over the stranger’s face as his mouth opens in surprise.

“So this is the sister. Shit, is that why I’ve never seen her around?”

“Yeah.” There’s a bitter undertone to his voice, expression faltering before he raises his eyebrows with a smile. “And that’s why she’s off limits, man. I know that look all too well.”

You look at your brother’s friend in question, leaning forward, but Jaehyun doesn’t even glance at you. Both of you know that Taeyong isn’t really the overly protective type, so why would he say that? Maybe he knows that this guy is bad news, so he’s warning me. You nod to yourself, satisfied with your quick thinking. That sounds about right.

You’re about to offer a comment yourself, but you’re stopped by a—

“Lim Saemi! No fucking way, is that really you?” another shrill voice calls from across the expanse of the gas station, a former classmate stalking across the black cement in teetering heels as she waves dramatically at the girl in front of you. “It is you! I can’t believe we ran into you like this, you gotta join the party truck now!”

Saemi seems to recognize her, waving dramatically out the window to her friend. In a matter of seconds, the girl has pulled her out of Jaehyun’s car as she laughs at her friend’s antics of tugging on her wrist to string her along, drunk. Saemi throws you and Jaehyun a look that seems to say everything and nothing at the same time; if you were to interpret it in your own language, it would spell out: So sorry I’m ditching you guys! I love both of you to pieces but I’d honestly rather drink bleach than get back in that car. Hope you understand. Muah.

And with that, you watch Saemi switch cars in a matter of moments. The boy follows them back to their chaotic ride to Johnny’s after waving goodbye at Jaehyun, who’s watching them without any emotion bleeding through his stoic face. You can’t even begin to guess what's going through his mind as his eyes flick back to his dashboard, spaced out.

You pause.

“...and then there were two.”

Biting your bottom lip when you realize you mumbled that out loud, and you’ve genuinely never wanted to be six feet under more because the man hasn’t even said a word since she left you two.

Jaehyun freezes at your voice, almost as if he forgot you were in the car. Letting out an airy laugh after a moment, your shoulders relax when you sense that his weird, Saemi-caused demeanor has faded with her sudden absence.

“Wanna move to the front? It’s lonely up here.” You perk up at his belated response, excitedly getting out of the back to slide into the shotgun seat at his invitation. The man next to you seems to visibly relax, stomach releasing and shoulders drooping with less tension as he starts the car and turns back onto the stretch of empty road. 

The silence doesn’t bother you this time when Saemi’s absent; it’s pleasant and full, as if both of you needed this momentary break from nonstop life to collect yourself. Staring at the dust picking up along the wheels while the needle on the speedometer rises up and up, you find the scene before you therapeutic in unexplainable ways.

Jaehyun feels the same, his eyes spacey as one hand rests languidly on the steering wheel with ingrained muscle memory. The vehicle coasts past blank acres and rolling hills, the burning moon engaging in hide-and-seek as it appears and disappears behind their peaks. He doesn’t even feel the need to turn up the stereo as he usually does when your audible, light breaths are sufficient enough. It’s comforting in ways he didn’t know he needed.

You recognize how close you are to Johnny’s estate when you see the road before you thin into dirt and pebbles, a grandiose silver gate barely visible in the far distance. Behind the gate is the unmistakable gleam of polished stone, no doubt the road that leads up to the party and an onslaught of cars. If you concentrate hard enough, your mind can even conjure up the deep bass of the music that the host prefers at his mixers, their heavy resonance flowing through the thick soil to the bottom of Jaehyun’s car and all the way up to the soles of your feet.

You’re just about to point your strange observance out when Jaehyun makes a sudden swerve, pulling off to an edge of mangled weeds and tree roots, the car rolling to a shuttering stop just before a barren field of dead plants. Your body lurches forward a bit with the movement, the boy apologizing profusely when he sees you adjust your seatbelt with confusion written all over your expression.

“Fuck, sorry sorry sorry,” he mumbles, moving his hand in front of you as if you could fall out of your seat at any minute. “I just… the stars are stunning right now, we gotta stop for a sec. You don’t mind if we…”

He trails off, distracted, as he pulls the car door open hastily, rushing out to take in the night sky in its full glory. It’s as if he doesn’t move fast enough, the stars will pull a disappearing stunt on him.

It’s endearing to see Jaehyun like this, a smile subconsciously finding its way onto your face when you spot him bouncing on the balls of his feet lightly. His eyes are completely enamored with the sight above him, neck craned up at an odd angle to see everything; from the way his fingers dig into his palms in excitement to the cold flush on his cheeks from the biting evening chill, it’s like he doesn’t know what to do with himself when encountering such a beautiful product of mother nature. 

The thought of Johnny’s party evaporates from both of your minds as you find yourself mirroring Jaehyun’s position. 

After a few minutes of stillness, he looks at you with the very stars from the sky in his eyes.

“Can we stay here for a bit?”

He beams at your “of course” before hoisting himself onto the cool hood of his Mustang and offering a hand out for you to grab. Pulling you up onto the spot beside him with a huff, he pulls your wrist to shift your body closer to his before smiling contently to himself. 

You try not to let your mind spiral at his warm touch, instead focusing your attention on the blanket of constellations that greet you from the inky stretch of night sky. The cold metal of the hood cools your burning skin as your legs stretch out in front of you, skin ghastly as your arms support your weight from behind you.

When he hears your faint intake of breath, Jaehyun allows his eyes to leave the pretty view above him to the pretty view beside him for a few seconds, letting them linger on your side profile as you stare up in awe. They fall from the slope of your nose to the open curve of your lips, circling around your neck and raking over the ornate gems decorating your skin. You’re breathtaking in 1001 ways, and it’s such a pressing realization that he blinks away in shock when your gaze suddenly meets his. 

“Do you do this often?”

“When I need to get away for a bit. All of my best ideas come to me at night, I think. There’s just something about darkness and non-artificial light which is curiously inspiring.”

You nod, leaning back on the windshield and resting your head against its glass. Nighttime lets you think in the abstract, where the shadows don’t take shape and remind you to think in a direct and methodical way. 

“I get that,” you empathize. “After Taeyong left, I used to climb onto my roof after dark and just sit there alone for hours. I wouldn’t know how much time had passed until I got back into my room, and to be honest, that was my favorite time of the day. It took my mind off things, even if it was only for a few hours.”

“You know, Yong and I used to do that when we were younger. You were too little to remember I think, but we’d go up after your parents fell asleep and throw basketballs down the side of your house to see how far they would bounce up… we probably hit your window too a few times. Only a few.”

“That was you?” you jut, incredulous.

“Oh, so she does remember,” Jaehyun laughs under his breath, playfully avoiding eye contact when you scoff at your brother and his' antics. “Anyway, I wanna go up there again someday.”

“Our roof? I’ll bring you.”

Jaehyun turns to face you.

“Promise? I’m counting on it, Lee.”

You don’t hide your bashful smile this time, looking away when the boy flashes his dimples at you. Your insides flood with warmth as you secretly bring the back of your hand up to feel your cheek, scared of its betrayal of your feelings. 

Jaehyun sighs, content, after a few moments, his neck lolling at the joint to stargaze once again. He feels entirely relaxed at this moment; there’s nothing that Mother Nature can’t fix. 

“History revolved around looking at the stars and just talking, you know? I wish I could stay here forever and never grow up.” 

You tilt your head curiously.

“Why, you don’t like being an adult?”

“Not that,” he shakes his head. “It’s more of, I pretend to be collected and mature and all-knowing, but the feeling of having no control over life magnifies as I get older. My head and heart haven’t grown up fast enough to catch up.”

“Jaehyun.”

“Hm?”

“You don’t ever have to pretend. It’s… it’s okay to not know what you’re doing or what the future looks like, and it’s okay to let yourself go at times too. Being an adult doesn’t mean always knowing the right things to do or figuring out every little detail right now,” your words stumble a bit as they spill out, but he seems to catch onto every word perfectly. “I’m scared too, so it’s kinda ironic that I’m giving you this advice when I can’t follow it myself.”

“We can trade words of wisdom,” Jaehyun offers more lightheartedly. “It’s so much easier to give advice to other people than to yourself.” You can’t think of a better way to phrase it than that. 

“And I think simply moving forward with what you can muster is the best we can do,” you add on. Jaehyun just stares at you as you talk, chin in his palm as he takes in your advice with sincerity. “Things will just come and go naturally as we go on.”

“You’re right. Time tells, Y/N. And frankly, you’re so much more mature than me.”

“Me?” You frown, surprised at the fact that he thinks you are. “That’s so strange to hear, because I feel like I’ll never be independent in the way that you and Tae are. Even though we’re not that far apart in age, I’ve always thought you guys were from a different galaxy, like fear wasn’t a word in your dictionary and maturity has always just come naturally.”

“It’s all in the way we carry ourselves, but maturity itself doesn’t come from this,” Jaehyun waves his hand around to outline your body in an imaginary circle, “but from this.” You watch as he taps a purposeful finger against your temple. “And you have more of it than anyone my age. You have a mind that people would die for, and I think that’s something to be very proud of.”

The wind whistles soundly as the two of you take in the world with new perspectives, sitting up a little straighter and legs just barely touching as he moves closer without even noticing. You don’t say anything for a while, and you don’t need to. He recognizes how you need a few minutes to let his words soak in, and that’s what makes you so you. Jaehyun knows you won’t just take his words on a whim and forget them ten minutes later; you’re the kind of person that internalizes everything he says with genuine feeling and gratefulness, and that quality is what makes you, in his opinion, celestial. 

“You always know just what to say,” you finally whisper, and he almost doesn’t catch it.

You receive no reply except for the most adoring look in his eyes as he smiles fondly at you. The breeze blows wisps of your hair around your face, and Jaehyun can’t help it when he reaches out to tuck a stray strand behind your ear. His fingers linger — longingly, if you dare say — before he makes himself pull away.

You’re scared to let yourself believe that you might have a chance this time; everything floods back and hits your heart at full power, and you think that your newfound connection you’ve found with the boy over this summer has trumped all of your past memories. Your feelings are fragile, and the way he looks at you is terrifying. He makes your heart race violently; your feelings from when you were fifteen don’t even compare.

“It’s too chilly for a summer month,” he speaks up suddenly, rubbing his arms and trying to lighten the mood. You shake your mind out of its storm of complicated emotions before offering a small smile back.

“Always speaking the truth, aren’t you?” You tease, playing with the hem of your short dress. Jaehyun makes a noise of agreement before a boyish grin stretches across his face. 

“Yeah, which is why Leonardo DiCaprio is not—”

“—UH,” You stop him mid sentence, shushing him. “Let’s not finish that sentence.”

“—peak acting which is why—”

“La la la lala,” you sing, covering your ears with your hands childishly and squinting so that you don’t have to see Jaehyun raising an eyebrow at you, amused. “I can’t hear youu.”

“I take back the part about you being more mature than me.” Only one boy is capable of making your moods flip like this, and he’s sitting right next to you as your laughs ring out in tandem through the night. 

Eventually, after a few more back-and-forths under the dark sky, Jaehyun takes it upon himself to teach you some astronomical terms. You doubt you’ll remember them, but he promises he’ll make it easy for you to hold in your mental library.

“You need to be prepared,” he stresses, “if you’re gonna come with me next time.”

“Next time… stargazing?”

“Yup,” he answers matter-of-factly. “Let’s see… there’s a triangle of importance in my opinion. The true triune, holy grail of astronomy.”

You watch him sink into his element, musing upon the milky way above.

“Stars,” he air-traces the Orion constellation slowly. “Moons,” he continues, moving his arm in front of you to point at the claw of the silver crescent moon. Jaehyun lets his hand fall, the tip of his finger grazing your skin in the slightest as it hovers in front of your heart. “And celestial bodies.” 

…

You mentally prepare yourself to get an earful from Chaewon as the drive up to Johnny’s resumes…

…two hours late.

In your defense, it wasn’t completely your fault. Jaehyun says you can blame it on him when she throws her fit at you being late — and boy, do you know she will — but you also know that when you recount what happened to cause your tardiness, she’ll excuse it. Partially. Maybe even throw in a sushi dinner and smoke sesh, then all of your sins would be forgiven in her book.

You try to distract yourself from Jaehyun’s sweet actions just a few minutes earlier by thinking about where you might find Chaewon and Mark when you get there; maybe the drink-stocked kitchen, where Mark will surely be… or outside, where people like Chaewon usually go with their ziploc bags and scratched-up lighters.

Where would Jaehyun go?

You groan inwardly when you catch your brain drifting to the idea of the man next to you once again, said man driving with a dopey expression on his face as Johnny’s estate comes into full view. You can’t tell if it’s because of a well-needed down-time with the stars (and time with you, if you dare to think optimistically) or because it looks like there’s strobe lights flashing out of every window of the ground floor—

“—holy shit, they really went all out,” Jaehyun gapes, hands slacking on the steering wheel as you both take in the scene before you. “Johnny’s fucking insane. Maybe even like, should-be-checked-into-a-facility insane.”

Your eyes widen as the building unfurls itself before you, a mansion so grand that it’s comparable to Gatsby’s in every way. It’s got a certain vintage charm to it, something you assume Johnny’s parents built in homage to their roots with veiny, marbled stairs and towering Roman columns. The chaos that’s happening in and around the home itself, however, is a different story. You can see the drunk bodies already as they move around to invisible music, and waves of people climb spiral staircases up to the upper levels as they fumble drinks around. Silhouettes of the party-goers are littered across the vast, arched windows, stone trims decorating their sills with impeccable detail; the estate is truly a needle that shines brilliantly in a haystack of country homes, the nearest house being a whole 20 minute drive away. You’d been to his countryside home only once with Taeyong when you were younger, but seeing it in all its glory during the nighttime is a whole different experience.

“Nah,” you grin when he puts the car into park behind a train of assorted automobiles that cover the driveway. “He's that special kind of chaebol-insane. I propose not eating the rich, because what would the world be without Johnny Suh.”

Jaehyun simply chuckles lightly before getting out of the car and walking around to your side, opening the door before helping you out. You’d be lying if you said that the butterflies in your stomach didn’t just seize at his actions.

But nothing good lasts forever.

Just as soon as the butterflies come, they die off when you notice the immediate, uncanny switch in Jaehyun’s disposition.

You’re not sure if it’s the deafening bass-boosted music flooding into the air or the multitude of bodies in front of the house alone as the two of you approach the open door, but he seems to be pushed into a different element the closer you get. You recognize it as the one that you’d only heard of in high school, the one who frequented house parties on school nights with your brother, the one who shone in a room full of people, the infamous heartbreaker Jaehyun.

You can see the shift in his eyes, the way his pupils dilate slowly as they gain that undeniable gleam. You can feel his muscles lose a tension you didn’t even know was there, especially when he swings his arm around your shoulders casually, letting his hand rest against your collarbone. You can hear the calls of his wicked name already from both females and males alike, their shouts pulling him away from you as multiple people are drawn to him right away.

You recognize a few of them, hometown names that make their presence known as they clap Jaehyun on the back and reach out for intoxicated hugs. It’s also now that you realize the sheer amount that the boy you practically grew up with — the very one who spent his school day afternoons playing in your living room — changes when with other people. His popularity was never a mystery to you, but seeing it in person like this… he acts like he’s finally at home. A true socialite who flourishes when surrounded by people.

And you would never hold that against anyone, except until—

“Hey, Y/N, I’ll catch up with you later, okay? Promise.”

Ah.

His voice rings out flippant and unfamiliar, arm slipping from your shoulders like deadweight, and his fingers don’t linger on your skin longingly this time. Without looking back, he’s swept away by a myriad of high school friends as they drag him off to only God knows where. They hand him drinks and jostle around with each other between heated bodies, his silver rings glinting under the lights as he throws his head back for a bitter shot.

You watch as their forms retreat into the depths of the party until the shadows swallow him up and your eyes can’t follow him anymore. 

Left to hover awkwardly by yourself at the door of Johnny’s house with no drink in hand and a bewildered twist in your expression, suddenly, all the moments that have led up to now feel like a fever dream. Everything just happened so fast. One minute he’s next to you, and you’re sure you’ve fallen again. Hard. And the next moment he’s gone with the wind, like a figment of a dream flickering in and out of consciousness. Sure, you hadn’t expected to spend the whole night with him, but you thought that after your many little talks he would want to stay with you a little longer than three seconds.

At least he promised to find you later, but you’re still left feeling unsure about where you stand with him in contrast to the bubbling feeling of affection you had felt earlier in the night. The way he acts is giving you emotional whiplash.

I have to find Chaewon and Mark, you think to yourself suddenly, trying to shake your head of Jaehyun-related thoughts. The way he’s plagued your thoughts far too many times these past few months terrifies you, and it feels like you’ve lost your mind for real this time. You’re charged with a new determination to not think about the boy until he comes back to you himself. It’s not worth ruining your night over maybe’s.

Weaving through sweaty figures and waving instinctually at the people who happen to recognize you, you find yourself in a sort of trance as you strain to catch a glimpse of one of your friends. The bass-boosted music fills your ears with a heavy buzz as you make your way through what feels like hundreds of people.

A cold hand abruptly reaches out to grasp your wrist when you approach the closed off kitchen, causing you to cautiously glance back at its owner with your other arm ready to push them off.

“Babe, what are you doing here all alone?”

You jump slightly before giving him a childish slap on his arm as a grinning Mark reaches out to embrace you, and the strong smell of twisted tea pungent on his breath. His hand comes up to tuck your head into his neck familiarly, an old habit from when you were young that tends to come out in his drunk endeavors.

“You scared me,” you mumble into his shirt, voice muffled by the fabric. “I was trying to find you, but there’s literally thirty million people in this damn house.”

Feigning hurt, Mark pulls away to put a hand to his heart. “You can’t recognize me from a house away?” His sarcasm makes you squint at him, your hand reaching out to tug him along with you.

“No, Mark. I actually can’t recognize you from a house away,” you bite back, mumbling an extra, “surprisingly too, because I could probably hear your loud-ass laugh from another country if I really wanted to.”

“Literally shut up.”

“Never. Come find Chaewon with me?”

“I-” Mark sighs, giving in to your pleading eyes. What can he say, he has a self-destructive soft spot for his best friend. “Fine. But only if you get her to play one of the drinking games with me, ‘cause you never want to,” he tsks. You offer him an innocent smile before turning towards the back balcony. Gripping Mark’s arm tightly as the two of you make your way through clusters of people, you glance back every so often to make sure he’s still with you. You don’t want to be left alone again.

Again. Like Jaehyun just did when he said he wanted to spend time with me…

He seems to sense your uneasiness when you pause for a moment to look down, the fluorescent lights that lead to the back glass doors making your eyes sting as your fingers tighten their grip on his wrist. 

“Hey hey hey,” the boy pauses to move in front of you with worry creasing his brows. “You good?”

You blink away from him, mumbling an unsure “yeah,” before clearing your throat. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just got dizzy for a sec.”

Mark puts his hands on your shoulders carefully, eyes scanning the way your face looks more apprehensive than usual and your head isn’t held just as high as the Y/N he knows would. He’s had almost his entire life to study your moods and the rises and falls of your expressions, and he knows that something heavy is bothering you to the point where you’re letting him see it bleed through your normal, carefree facade. It’s something serious, and he also knows you’re not gonna tell him until you’re ready.

So for now, he simply smooths down any invisible tensions in your arms and straightens your posture for you like he would in your younger school days, gentle and nimble fingers adjusting the straps of your dress like a parent figure would. 

“I like this number on you. You should wear it more often.” 

“Thank you,” you smile gratefully at him, forcing your feet to move forward once again. It's not unusual for Mark to compliment you, but it feels particularly comforting tonight after so much of your confidence in yourself has been built up and torn down in a matter of hours.

You don’t let your gaze take in anyone except a potential Chaewon as the two of you finally make it outside, scared of potentially seeing someone you don’t want to see. Out of the corner of your eye, Mark gestures animatedly to the lit up garden, far fewer people mingling in its flowering, winding paths than inside. 

“Oh! Chaewon’s right there,” he pushes you lightly in her direction, a poised figure leaning, relaxed, on one of the ivy-slinked marble balconies. “I’m not gonna go far, but I’ll get some drinks from the kitchen for us and be right back, okay? I won’t leave you guys for long.” You’re silent for a moment.

“I’m sorry.” 

“Why are you sorry, Y/N? You’ve done nothing wrong, but whoever or whatever’s bothering you should feel ashamed for making you apologize for nothing,” he chastises immediately, indignant towards the fact he has an inkling of who’s made you feel this way. It pains him to see his best friend hurt silently.

You nod before he gives you one last pat and nudges you in the direction of Chaewon. She turns on her heel just as Mark leaves, face lighting up when she spots your form heading in her direction.

“Took you long enough!” She calls out over with a hand reaching out for you, her other occupied by a flute of some mysterious fizzy liquid. “I’ve been waiting so that we can try the colorful shots in Johnny’s fridge together. I know you secretly like those.”

You snap yourself out of your thoughts before managing a grateful smile as she pulls you into a side hug. “Sorry, the uh… drive took longer than anticipated,” you mumble, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. 

“Who’d you come with again? I feel so bad that we couldn’t pick you up, but the setup literally took the living energy out of me.”

You bite your lip nervously, eyes flicking to the night sky in reassurance.

“I came with— I came with Jaehyun,” you spit out quietly, already predicting her reaction in your head. 

“Damn, for real? I told your brother to call one of your other friends, but this is so much better. Did you guys get time to talk or what?” Chaewon lifts her drink to her lips as she waits with wide eyes, anticipating an answer that you know you can’t give her. If anyone has always rooted for the possibility of him liking you back, it’s her. 

“I don’t know,” you finally whisper, giving up as you tug your fingers through your hair. “It’s just… he’s a confusing person. Like yeah, we talked, but I can’t figure him out at all. He goes back and forth from being the closest I’ve ever felt to a boy to an almost distant stranger in a matter of seconds.”

Your friend’s face falls at your words, clearly noting how much you’re beginning to get stressed out over him. It kills her to see anything but a smile on your face, and the fact that it’s because of someone who you’ve pined over for so long is detrimental to watch. 

“Y/N…” 

“It’s fine. I’m making a big deal out of nothing, probably.” Your voice cracks slightly in the middle of the sentence, but you mask it with a quiet laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a real chance with him to begin with, so try not to expect much.” Chaewon’s bitter smile reflects her inner confliction as she reaches out to take your hand in hers.

“Stop, don’t think like that,” she mutters. 

“But don’t worry, there’s still,” you whisper, putting your pointer finger and thumb up to approximate the size of the tiny moon in the sky above you, “a little hope. There’s always been.”

You nod to yourself, almost like a subtle reassurance. You’ve always had faith and confidence in your own feelings, and a little hope has never killed you. If anything, it’s brought you closer to Jaehyun than you’ve ever been, and getting to know him in ways that you were never able to has been a silver lining in itself. Just maybe… deep down, not in the way you know you wish you had.

“I love how you’re always been so sure of what you want,” Chaewon confesses. It’s both a blessing and a curse. “But tonight’s about having fun, okay? No use wasting time on a boy that can’t get his own shit straight.”

With a giggle, she pulls you towards the house once again. “I want to see you get wasted. His name is not allowed as far as I’m concerned.”

“Jaehyun’s name…?” 

“Who?”

You shake your head with a smile as she feigns confusion with an innocent expression. I don’t deserve my friends, you think to yourself, heart warming at how much they try to make you feel better.

“Come on, Y/N. Look around at all the people,” she laughs out in the tone of a true socialite as she tugs you towards where most of the partygoers are congregated, littered across every corner with their short dresses and sweaty skin. Noticing that your mouth is still tinged with a hint of apprehensiveness, she stops in her tracks and turns to you. “You’re telling me that you’re gonna let him do this to you? This night is for us, not waiting for a stupid boy that’s had the chance of a decade to love on you, pretty girl.”

She fiddles with your dress and smoothing down its invisible wrinkles as you nod along with her, mind willing itself to focus on yourself and your friends instead of—

Right. He doesn’t exist right now.

“And you look so good right now that anyone would be stupid not to feel lucky for having your attention,” she affirms, shiny hair tumbling under fluorescent lights as she beams at you. You can’t help but wrap your arms around her, the comfort of her mere presence and consoling words making your heart burn. 

“Love you, Chae. I think we should just date instead,” you mumble into her shoulder, her signature, bright laughter ringing out at your words. 

Her eyes brighten even more when she spots Mark appearing back behind you with entire bottles of liquor in his hands.

“Where the hell did you get those, my god,” she ooh and aah’s at him as your face lights up at the appearance of the boy.

“Johnny’s hidden stash in one of the guest bedrooms. He thinks he’s slick,” he snorts, putting a finger up in a shushing motion when Chaewon gasps dramatically. When you giggle at your best friend’s antics, he turns to look at you with a hint of worry on his face. 

You seem to have cheered up a bit since he left you to get drinks, but he also knows how good at hiding your true feelings you are. From poker faces to fake laughs, you’ve got it all under your belt. He just wishes you would just let go sometimes, but it’s understandable when he thinks about you as a person. It’s simply in your nature to be selfless, and ever since the two of you were young, you’ve never been one to bother anyone with your own worries. No wonder he’s worried as you crinkle your eyes in elation at him, a complete 180 from five minutes ago.

Glancing at Chaewon, she nods at him discreetly, seemingly having a conversation with just their eyes. You’re okay now.

Letting out a short breath of relief, Mark loops his arm with yours before pulling you into the lion’s den of a party haven. 

“Let’s get fucked up, hmm?”

…

You don’t know how much time has passed as you trudge through the garden with your heels in one hand, Chaewon’s fingers laced with yours in the other. 

You’re sure it’s been at least three hours since you arrived. No, two. Maybe four?

To be honest, time isn’t even a concept in your book as you swing your arm with your friend’s, a drunken-dopey smile on your face as you relish the feeling of the dirt and grass against your bare skin. 

Maybe you would’ve known when Mark had handed you the first shot, eyes flicking absentmindedly to the mounted clock in Johnny’s spacious living room — but you hadn’t cared enough then to figure out the numbers and read the time properly. In fact, you don’t think you were even thinking about anything except getting a bit of alcohol in your system. Forgetting was the first thing on your mind.

And boy, did everything spiral from there.

You recall vague bits here and there, from getting too close with familiar faces to being handed funky glasses with sparkly liquids. It was all a blur of overdue laughter and shots after shots, and you have to admit, completely letting loose for the first time in a while felt numbing in the most beautiful way.

You remember Mark drunkenly laying his head down in your lap at one point, tapping the hard liquor in your solo cup and mumbling a happy, “water fountain?” up at you. You weren’t seeing double just yet, but you certainly weren’t thinking straight enough either to comprehend his words fully. So, with absolutely no hesitation and a tipsy giggle, you poured the rest of the contents in your cup into his open mouth as carefully as you could (read: not careful at all). He had sat up with a cheeky smile, wiping the surprisingly dark, bloodred liquid from his bottom lip before it dribbled down and stained his skin.

Everything after that moment felt muggy, like a heavy blanket was wrapped around your head and knotted twice around your neck. You suppose that the alcohol added up at some point, pushing you past the point of clarity.

And suddenly now, you’re here. In the grass with Chaewon, doing only God knows what in a freezing night chill with your short dress and absence of a cozy summer jacket. You don’t even know how you got outside in the first place.

The cold air is good for you, however, as you can feel the blurriness start to fade away bit by bit. You’re not stumbling around as much anymore, but your grip on your friend’s hand is as tight as ever as you make your way through pretty flower bushes and onto a stone path.

“Oh no, someone dropped their phone,” Chaewon laments with exaggerated sadness — no doubt the alcohol talking — before leaning down to pick up the shiny device. Dusting it off with her fingers, she traces a frowny face into its glass, causing it to suddenly turn on.

“Jesus,” you squint into its blinding screen, mentally cursing the person who had the brightness turned all the way up and causing tiny white dots to appear in your vision. “What time is it?”

“You have eyes, look yourself,” Chaewon turns her head towards you dramatically, words slightly slurred as she throws you an unimpressed look. “But it’s 2:43 am. I can’t believe we’re still conscious.”

You groan, rubbing lightly at your eye before she’s talking again, swaying slightly as she speaks. Letting your gaze wander, you let yourself linger on the few people either passed out on messy lawn chairs or calling their friends for late night rides. Some are standing around like you and Chae, heads hanging down and clearly not in their best condition. There’s people with their arms thrown over the shoulders of their friends too, providing obvious support for their less coherent counterparts.

A couple half hidden behind the edge of the balcony catches your eye, your muggy mind inwardly gushing at how cute they are. You want a relationship like that. Their figures are hidden by the shadows of the house, but you can still see how the boy holds her forearm with care as he leans against the stones with her, head tilted impossibly close to the girl’s to display his full attention on whatever she’s telling him through her hushed whispers. 

“—it’s okay ‘cause we’re sleeping over at Johnny’s tonight anyway. And, he has like a thousand guest bedrooms so we can choose any one of them—”

The couple lean into the wall more, the light repositioning as they shift their bodies closer, obviously very comfortable with each other. The girl moves further into the light, shiny hair catching onto the glow as she turns in place. He chases her movements, following her into the beam of the balcony lights as their faces are lit up under the sudden absence of shade.

You breathe out.

No way.

“—and I’ve always wanted to stay at Johnny’s and experience that rich kid life, you know? I wonder what it’s like to—”

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You think that your heartbeat physically stops as you take in the scene before you. Like a thin arrow slicing right through the flesh and tissue of your heart, and it’s violently humbling. Bruising, even.

Stop.

There’s Saemi. And there’s Jeong Jaehyun too in all his glory, looking at her with the stars glittering in his eyes as she tilts her head up towards him.

Your mind goes blank.

“Hey, Y/N, I’ll catch up with you later, okay? Promise.”

That was what, four hours ago?

Ha.

You sober up immediately, like your head has just just been ruthlessly plunged into a bucket of ice cold water. Like God himself is telling you to face the fucking music and come back down to reality. And if you concentrate hard enough, you can even hear your soul shattering, its pieces clattering down and settling at the bottom of your stomach because you actually feel like you might throw up.

I should’ve known, is the phrase that repeats like a mantra in your head, manically getting louder and louder as you blink in pain. Your eyes refuse to leave them for some reason, watching the way his hand comes up to rest on the junction between her neck and shoulder with a delicate touch.

A bitter taste floods your mouth. You feel like you’re playing a one-sided game of push and pull, and it’s worn you out; it’s not disappointment, or even jealousy that fills your body, but fatigue. It’s tiring to let yourself hope, and then get let down time after time and you feel stupid. Disgusted at yourself, even, for attempting to appeal to a boy who had never given you the time of day in the past even though everyone was aware of how blatantly obvious your crush on him was.

You’ve always prided yourself on how true to your own character you are, but in this moment, you feel like a child watching real adults in the real world. Two years' age difference isn’t much in retrospect, but at this moment, Lim Saemi seems like a whole generation above you. Her maturity shines through every part of her — from her gait to the way she dresses to the way she leans into Jaehyun — and you can’t help but let your worst insecurity get to you as they get impossibly closer.

It hurts, because he’s not even mine.

“Y/N, are you listening?”

You don’t answer.

And when the soft plush of his lips come down to place a gentle kiss against her forehead, you decide that you’ve seen enough.

…

Your mouth feels like paper, your head feels like it’s about to split open, and you feel like shit.

Blearily blinking one eye open and then immediately shutting it after getting a glimpse of an unfamiliar ceiling, you groan out loud before stuffing your face into your arm.

Somehow, the little bit of willpower left in you forces your body to get off of the bed you’re on, stumble through the darkness (you think you accidentally trip over a stray body on the ground too), and feel your way to the hallway. Your brain has completely shut off, but you’re also fucking parched and nothing will get in the way of you and water right now.

Your feet miraculously lead you to the empty expanse of Johnny’s kitchen, little sunlight reaching its pristine tiles at such an early hour. Glancing at the red clock numbers on the oven, you blanch when it displays a mocking 6:04am. You’re lucky that your hangovers don’t hit too hard. Pouring yourself a glass of water, you can finally swallow and lean back against the counter in relief as you take a deep breath.

And that’s when it hits you. That’s when everything hits you.

You almost choke on your water as your mind pulls last night from the depths of its sleepiness, from the drinking to the unwanted feelings to the sensation of blacking out. You remember it all.

Taeyong taking a body shot in front of you (scarred). Johnny making out with one of your close school friends in front of you (scarred x2). Mark handing you drink after drink. Chaewon leading you into the garden for fresh air. And… and seeing the boy you like with a girl you thought he had nothing to do with anymore.

Like a floodgate of torturous memories, your mind automatically replays every little interaction without warning as you throw your head back against a cabinet in regret. It’s as if you have no control over what you get reminded of and what you don’t, because of course, the first thing that flashes before you is the feeling you felt when you saw Jeong Jaehyun in the courtyard. 

His arm wrapped around the shoulder of Saemi’s as your best friend desperately vied for your attention, the girl finally following your line of sight to eventually see the scene you were watching in chilling silence. And Chaewon had noticed it all, from the way he smiled down at her to the very moment he looked up in your direction.

“Y/N…” she had whispered, the pity clear in her tone. You’d turned your head away quickly, not wanting her to see the tears gathering on your lash-line, but she couldn’t help but notice the way you reached up to wipe them away. Your body had gone into autodrive, quickly moving to the side to get away from the two as fast as you could. Chaewon reached out for you before turning back to glare at Jaehyun, surprised to see him already staring right at you.

He seemed unfairly distraught and guilty in her eyes, his gaze conflicted as his hands fell from Saemi’s face in a flash and hovered in the air in shock. A few seconds later and he snapped out of it, leaving her standing alone and rushing over in your direction, seemingly trying to reach you before you got lost in the mass of people inside the mansion. 

As he passed Chaewon’s lingering form, her hand flew out to latch onto his shoulder. 

Shaking her head at him — as if saying, you lost your chance ages ago — it was then that she truly felt awful about the inner turmoil her best friend was constantly subjected to when liking a boy like that. 

Wincing, you press a cheek to the cold marble countertop of the kitchen as all of your thoughts flitter through your consciousness at once. You wish the dull throbbing in your head would stop, and even thinking about it makes you shift uncomfortably in place, itching to just get outside and clear your mind with fresh air.

Fuck it, you decide, no one’s awake anyway. I need to get away, even if it's only for a few moments.

Pushing your hair out of your face, you finish your water before heading out. There’s an unusual smell of artificial roses as you move through the hallways and descend the grand staircase; it’s eerie to walk in a silent house, all of the hallways dark and stoic. Johnny’s mansion looks like a mini natural disaster with the way decorations and bottles are strewn across its marble floors, almost like savages making use of a castle. It’s like a presentation of physical evidence of what took place last night.

Finally making it outside into the crisp morning air, you relish in the chirping of the songbirds and empty expanse of a dew-tipped garden. Taking a deep breath, you shiver slightly before heading down a small hill behind the garden. You recall there being a lake behind the property that Taeyong and Johnny used to bring you to when you were younger, one with a small dock that retreated far enough into the water that you could be alone without having the urge to constantly look towards the house again.

You don’t expect anyone to be awake — or even outside — this early, but it comes as a surprise when you almost trip over a figure sitting on the bottom-most stone step. Putting a hand to your heart, your eyes widen as they turn to look up at you.

“Oh… hi. I didn’t expect anyone would be awake this early.”

“Yeah, I just needed some fresh air,” you say, nervously playing with the hem of your shirt. “So I’m going down to the dock…”

“Ah. I see… um. You- you wouldn’t mind if I joined you, right?”

…

Life is funny sometimes.

As you swing your legs gently above the light waves, you can’t help but think about the irony of the situation you’re in. You bite your lip before turning to the person next to you, their knees pulled up to their chest as they stare out into the water. 

“Saemi…”

The girl turns to you, a hesitant smile on her face as she reaches out for your hand.

Lim Saemi takes your fingers between hers before letting out a deep sigh, the talkative persona she normally holds, gone, as she looks between each of your eyes. The hesitance between the two of you is awkward in a way. You’ve never had a full conversation with her and you’ve always assumed things about her based off of others’ recountings, but she couldn’t be more different now. 

The little imaginary devil on your shoulder shakes her pitchfork at you, as if saying, “you should be hating her, remember?” 

You look down to hide your slight frown.

“I think we have a lot to talk about,” she starts, voice tentative and slow as she purses her lips in contemplation. You still. Nodding your head, you let her move closer to you on the wooden planks of the dock before she makes eye contact with you again.

“You know, sometimes it scares me how alike you and Taeyong look. It’s like staring into a mirror image, and I feel like I see memories in you that I associate with your brother.” 

You cock your head at her words. “...we’re pretty similar people too, I think,” you whisper back, an automatic smile reaching your face as your mind finds its own way to him.

“I think so too,” she grins. “Actually, Taeyong and I have been friends for a long time, and he’s always speaked of you so fondly that I couldn’t help but anticipate meeting you. I would see glimpses of you here and there, and he would constantly mention his baby sister and how much he worried about her. He was the best older brother, and anyone could see it.” She pauses, taking in a deep breath. “Yet he treats his friends the very same way, with the same adoration and care. It doesn’t matter how much Taeyong will grow in the future with his escalating popularity and growing talent in music, he’ll always have the kindest soul in my eyes. I’m genuinely so thankful for him, Y/N.”

To hear someone speak about your brother like that triggers an emotion in you that you didn’t even know you had, gaze curious as you wait for her to continue.

“I don’t really know how to start this conversation to be honest, but- I bet you know how hard high school is.” You nod, grimacing at all of the particular more negative memories you have. “You’re balancing on that fine line between feeling too adult to be in school and feeling too childish to live your own life yet, and I, for one, most definitely didn’t know how to deal with such a sudden change in my social and academic surroundings. I think I changed physically a lot then, too. My face, my body, everything. I started morphing into someone that I couldn’t recognize in the mirror, and I came to the realization that boys liked me first for my appearance, not my personality. And… and you know what I regret the most? I learned how to use my body as a weapon.”

“I learned how to change the way I talk, how to talk to boys so that I could get them to do what I want, and suddenly, everything changed even faster. People flocked to me, which is what I had always secretly wanted, but the person that they wanted wasn’t me. I had flown a bit too close to the sun and now I was stuck with this facade that I couldn’t get rid of. It was never just ‘Saemi,’ I was always simply the object of their desires, something to be acquired. And I had brought it upon myself.”

Recalling the Saemi you knew and recognized in high school, you have a bit more of an understanding of her now. She held up a front in order to protect herself, and as a result, she lost touch with her own self. Your heart hurts for her as you hesitate to reach out and offer comfort. 

“Your brother was the first one who understood me right away. We met in detention during our second to last year, and he saw right through me in the first ten minutes. Sat me down in the teacher’s empty chair and told me that I was a bitch for breaking one of his friend’s hearts.” She closes her eyes as she recalls that very afternoon. “Taeyong gave it to me plain and straight that day: I shouldn’t have promised false love to so many boys if I wasn’t planning to give it in the first place. Your brother may have been a player too, but the boundaries he always set with his girls made him a thousand times better than I was.”

You place your hand on hers, Saemi giving you a grateful smile in return. 

“I thought hard about myself and my decisions after that, and I decided that if I wanted to enjoy the last years of my secondary schooling, I needed to take back control of my own actions. After I apologized to his friend, he offered me genuine friendship in the weeks following, one without the jealousy and lust that I was always caught up in before. I had always been surrounded with so much toxicity, and he was able to pull me out of it so easily that I finally felt seen for the first time.” 

She pauses, glancing at you briefly before staring up at the sky. 

“That was also… the first time I met Jaehyun.”

You shift, staring down at your shoe laces as they sway lightly with the wind. 

Ah, you smile sadly to yourself. We’ve gotten to this part of the story.

“Your brother brought me along with him one day to one of his parties, and I had truly never been enamored with a boy that quickly before.”

You can tell that Saemi’s choosing her words carefully with you, and they hit a lot harder when you relate to what she’s saying. You’re certainly no stranger to his charm.

“We started talking that night and Jaehyun had somehow broken down all of the walls I had carefully built up within the first month of knowing each other. It was new for me. My personal mantra had always followed the lines of, ‘if they like what they see and feel, I might as well use it to my advantage.’ But it was different with him. I didn’t want us to be a one time thing, and I certainly did not want him to think of me as something who couldn’t do that kind of serious relationship shit. I wanted him to like me so badly without thinking about if I had genuine feelings towards him in the first place.”

She takes another deep breath, as if she’s collecting her thoughts, before leaning forward with an airy laugh and sadness clear in her eyes. 

“Have you ever mistaken love for dependency, Y/N?” 

Have you? 

You think back to all the people you’ve liked throughout your teenage years, ranging from hallway crushes to… well- Jaehyun. Your pupils dart to the water as you think about the idea of depending on a person. Do I depend on the people I like, or do I know when to distance myself?

You shake your head. 

“Jaehyun and I… we jumped into everything too quickly. It wasn’t even a right person, wrong time situation; we simply weren’t ready. We tried putting our all into this lone spark that we felt without stepping back and really looking at our relationship.” She stops to observe the rising sun above the lake, its golden reflection casting a healthy glow on her skin. Saemi’s beautiful like this, her feelings bare and raw before you as she lays out her emotions so vulnerably. 

“I guess I never really loved Jaehyun in the way he loved me. He was looking for something tender and real, and younger me was not in the capacity to give that to him. I tried to convince myself every single fucking day that I liked him in that way, but even I knew deep down that my I would never convince myself. I still had this lingering, detrimental mentality of seeing boys as something I could win over, and my fascination with him intertwined with that in ugly ways.”

Saemi’s face falls a little before she takes both of your hands in hers, eyes sincere as she peers at you. 

“The reason I’m telling you all this is because… I saw you,” she whispers carefully, watching your reaction. “Last night. When Jaehyun and I were together in the garden… I saw you watching before you walked away.”

Your heart drops as you look down at her hands holding yours so carefully, her pretty fingers encompassing your wrist as you unwillingly recall the worst emotions you had felt in a while. 

She saw. 

You only manage to get out a small, “oh,” before she squeezes your hand reassuringly. 

“Hey hey hey, look at me,” she leans down slightly to put herself at eye level with you. The edges of her lips quirk up in the slightest, her hair falling elegantly against her face as the wind picks it up and puts it back down again. “I don’t want you to misunderstand. Why? Because all those years ago, Jaehyun misunderstood, and I misunderstood, and it was all of these assumptions and forced feelings that drove our relationship to its grave. We were shit at communicating with each other properly, and that eventually hurt both of us too deeply to heal the right way.”

You nod at her hesitantly, taking in what she’s saying with a newfound understanding. Saemi sighs before smiling again at you. 

“I’ve hurt a lot of people in the past,” she says, forlorn, her eyes crinkled as she sniffs in the cold of the morning. “And I never got the chance to apologize to them properly. But last night, I finally worked up the confidence to revisit our high school days with Jaehyun.” She stops, leaning back onto the dock with her hands behind her. Her eyes close as she soaks in the morning sun, and you can’t help but mirror the position as your heart warms for her. “We finally got our much needed closure last night, and I was feeling a bit down afterwards so he was simply comforting me. And I won’t weigh you down with all the nitty gritty details, but we were able to see our ending all the way through without letting our emotions get in the way.”

You can’t help but reach out and hug the girl, your arms wrapping comfortably around her shoulders to express your awe and gratitude. With a little noise of surprise, Saemi pauses for a few seconds before embracing you back. Everything makes more sense now, and you can’t help but feel a little ashamed for jumping to conclusions so easily. 

“I’m so grateful that you shared all that with me,” you mumble into her shirt, her chuckle ringing out into the lake as she rubs your back like an older sister would. 

“Of course. If anyone deserved to hear all of this, it would be you.”

“Why?”

Saemi snorts, pulling back from your hug before lifting an eyebrow at you. 

“Oh please, Y/N, you should see Jaehyun from everyone else’s eyes. We can all see the way he looks at you.” Your mouth drops open slightly, tilting your head in confusion. 

“He looks at me a certain way?”

“God, I have never met two more stupid people in my lifetime,” she groans, bringing her fingers up to her temple. “And I say this lovingly, of course.”

With a fond look on her face, she nudges your shoulder. “But I’m really glad Jaehyun has someone like you.”

You bashfully look down at the water, a rosy blush creeping up your cheeks at her words. You were never 100% sure of where you stood with him, but that familiar feeling of hope has started to creep up once again. Could I go through that again, though? That same push and pull?

Seeming to sense your sudden aversion, Saemi loops her arm through yours in one smooth motion and sets your hand in her lap.

“Hey. Promise me you’ll go talk to him?”

You hesitate to reply, mouth dry as you think about everything she’s poured out to you. You think about your own feelings, and you think about the possibility of having something more with Jaehyun. You think about his history with Saemi, and how this issue of communication has ruined your confidence so many times. But what is it all worth if you don’t try?

With a slow nod, you offer her a reassuring smile before dusting off your clothes and standing up. “Promise.”

Saemi grins at you.

“That’s my girl.”

“Jaehyun?” she asks, putting a hand out on his arm as he looks behind her, distressed. She’s never seen him like this, a nervous jitter in his hands as his eyes dart around at the scene behind them.

Turning around, she just manages to catch a glimpse of a girl rushing towards the back of the house, her head downturned but not masking the obvious face of discomfort in her features. Her friend turns around to glare at them before following close after.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, chewing on his lip as he hesitates to run after your escaping form. “I fucked up so bad, Saemi.” Running a hand through his hair in frustration, he lets out a noise of exasperation as he watches you get farther and farther away. 

“What?”

“She’s leaving, Saemi. What do I do, what do I do,” he mumbles under his breath. “I just know she’s gonna think I hurt her on purpose. I always fuck it up somehow.”

“Woah, let’s breathe first,” she holds him steady at the shoulders, grip strong as she turns his body to face hers. “Breathe slowly.”

After a few panicked breaths, he looks back at her and attempts to inhale at a slower pace. A few seconds pass and he’s calmed down already, but a worried crease still flits across his features nonetheless.

“Listen to me, Jaehyun. Don’t leave her in the dark.”

His body loses tension bit by bit as he nods back a little, a heavy look in his eyes.

“We both know how that feels, better than anyone.”

…

Twenty-three missed calls.

That’s how many you’ve accumulated over one day.

You do the math on your bedroom ceiling as you lay splayed out on the mattress like a starfish. Each glow-in-the-dark, plastic star represents a missed call, and they swim across your vision as you point up at them with your hand to count them. 

There’s seven from Mark, another seven from Chaewon, four from Taeyong, one from Johnny, and the remaining four? Mentally moving the glowing stars across the solar system of the ceiling, you pick four of the brightest glowing stars before keeping them hidden in a little group at the corner of your eye.

4 missed calls from Jeong Jaehyun, your phone reads from beside you on the mattress, the screen habitually lighting up throughout the day.

Your hand itches to grab it and just call him like you so desperately want to, but you exercise self-restraint as you roll over and stuff your face into your pillow. It’s unfairly hot tonight — the sticky, humid type —  and being surrounded by all of your fluffy blankets and pillows does nothing to help your condition, but you don’t want to move out of your room. Letting out a muffled scream into the fabric, you groan to yourself when you realize that all of the problems floating around in your head won’t just magically disappear.

A normal Sunday would have gone like this: waking up mid afternoon with an abnormally large appetite, eating the entire contents of your kitchen to your heart’s content, and then going back to bed. Unfortunately, today was a bit different.

For the entire day, you’ve been busy. Busy thinking.

You had quickly left Johnny’s estate after your talk with Saemi early in the morning, borrowing one of Johnny’s cars from his garage and leaving him a little note that you’d return it soon (to be honest, you doubt that he’ll even notice). You’ve been in your room ever since. 

With your eyes trained out the window, your record player ran through entire sets of albums as you lay on your bed in contemplation for the entirety of the afternoon. The fan in your room barely kept you cool as it picked up the fabric of your sundress every few minutes, marking another block of time that had gone by without you getting up and doing something about your position. 

You let out a humph before throwing an arm over your eyes and retreating back into deep thought.

I’ve been distancing myself from him the entire day, and that’s the opposite of what I want to do, right? I’m turning into exactly what Saemi warned me not to.

Biting your lip, you turn your body over to stare at your motionless phone. But what should I do?

In a single impulsive movement, you reach out to grab the device before you can change your mind. Your fingers lead you to your contacts before your brain can catch up.

You can’t even fully register what you’ve just done, but Jaehyun’s name flashing across your screen certainly makes it all very much real, your phone waiting for him to pick up on the other side of the line. Your face gets hotter and hotter as the seconds tick on, the beeping of a no-caller reply heightening your nerves.

Finally, with a little click from your hand, he picks up. Your eyes widen. You really didn’t really think this through; now you had to actually talk to him.

“Hey,” Jaehyun sounds out, his voice breathless. “I- are you okay?”

“Yeah.” At least I think I am, you add on to yourself, grimacing. “Um… are you free today?”

“Am- am I free today? Yes! I mean yes, yes I’m free today.” 

You can’t help but smile at the way he trips over his words a bit, his nervousness bleeding over your speaker. 

“Well then, rooftop at mine at 10?”

“For real?” Jaehyun exclaims, checking the time on his alarm clock. That’s in twenty minutes. “Wait, I’ll be there. I promise.”

And with that, the two of you hang up with a million unspoken words and unfinished sentences. You let out the breath you were holding in, because you genuinely thought you would pass out when you heard Jaehyun’s voice again after finding out all that you did. Throwing yourself against your bed, you let yourself indulge in your feeling of hope again.

“He’ll be here,” you sigh in happiness to yourself. You relax into your pillows before springing up immediately, a look of horror taking over your face. “Oh my god, he’ll be here.”

Rushing around your room with a newfound energy, you make sure you don’t look like you just rolled out of bed (although you technically did just roll out of bed, but he doesn’t have to know that) before unlatching the window of your bedroom and carefully climbing out onto your roof.

It’s well past dusk now, and the sky is abnormally clear with not a single cloud in sight. The moon shines brilliantly in its place as it casts an eerie glow on the panels you’re sitting on, their bumpy texture making it seem like the material is constantly shifting. 

You let yourself go for a moment, resting your head in the palms of your heads before staring out at the roofs of your city. They create a complex, urban terrain: a mix of timely balconies and rooftop gardens, orange lanterns and fairy lights alike. 

The beeping of a car horn brings you out of your daze. Peering down into the street below you, a familiar, classy black car is visible through all of the telephone lines. 

Okay Y/N, deep breaths. 

Jaehyun gets out of the front seat, immediately looking up in hopes of catching a glimpse of you before you notice he’s there. However, when his eyes follow the length of your house up, he finds that you’re already staring at him with an unreadable expression. 

He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this nervous in his life. With cold hands, he lifts himself onto the electrical box beside your house before climbing up onto the slope of the roof, climbing over to you with an uneasy smile on his face. 

“Hey.”

You tuck your chin into your arms, leaning forward to look at him curiously. “You could’ve taken the window, you know, but that works too.”

“What’s life without any risks, hm?”

As he settles himself, you can’t help but think that there’s a double lining to his words. “That’s the most Jaehyun-esque thing I’ve ever heard.”

His laugh warms your heart in a way you didn't know it could.

The first few moments are quiet, just two pairs of eyes looking up at the stars before Jaehyun breaks the silence with a small cough. 

“We got lucky, there’s no clouds tonight. Pure stars.” You look over in his general direction, his gaze not even directed towards the sky anymore. 

He pauses, so you turn and happen to meet eyes at the same time. Both of you open your mouths to talk, prompted by the invisible tension between you. 

“Let me just say that—“ 

“I just wanted to tell you—“ he starts at the same time you do, eyes widening when you both go quiet once again. “You go first.” Giving him a grateful smile, you think a bit about how to express yourself before twisting your body completely so that you’re facing him. 

“I just wanted to apologize first,” you start, holding up a hand when Jaehyun starts to protest. “Wait. I really want to tell you this before I get too nervous to.”

“I know everyone was worried when I went kinda off the grid this morning, but I needed some time alone with my thoughts. I shouldn't have ignored you like that, especially when things seemed so off between us. This is really hard to say to your face but,” you glance away from him as he waits patiently for you, “I always feel this rush of different emotions whenever I’m around you. And sometimes it’s confusing, but other times—“ stopping to exhale, you notice Jaehyun’s grin from the corner of your eye. 

“Hey, why are you laughing? I’m trying to be serious right now,” you whine. He simply puts his hand up to his mouth to hide the elated expression on his face. 

“You’re just too cute, that’s all,” he replies adoringly, his eyes creasing behind his hand. 

“I can’t take this,” you mutter in embarrassment, stuffing your face into your arm to hide the blush of your cheeks. “See! Stuff like that. You make me experience, like, thirty different emotions at once.”

He simply giggles at you, throwing out a little “my bad,” but he doesn’t sound very sorry at all. You nudge him in the arm.

“Sorry sorry, Y/N. Wait, I’ll be serious now.”

Both of you taking deep breaths, you put your hand up to your heart to calm its erratic beating as Jaehyun composes his expression back to normal. 

“I really wanted to apologize too.”

You glance at him in surprise as the words leave his mouth, sincere and heavy. 

“I’ve been pretty shitty to you, and I recognize how confusing it must have been for you to watch me constantly go back and forth between different personas. Honestly, being back home forced me to face the people here, and suddenly I was thrown into this internal conflict between my high school life and my present self. That’s still no excuse for how many mixed signals I gave you these past few months, but I want you to know that it was never my intention to hurt you.”

Reaching out to brush a small leaf off your shoulder, his hand trails down your arm until he’s taken your hand in his. You can tell how much he means it by the way he’s looking at you — like you hold the entire galaxy in your eyes. You think that you finally see a replication of how you look at him yourself; after all, it’s being reflected back to you right now. 

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I hope you can tell, but I really like you,” he whispers, bringing your hand up to his chest. He wants you to feel how much his nerves are racing just as fast as yours. 

You think that your heart just about stops. You’ve dreamt of this moment since you were younger, and now that it’s finally coming to life, it’s unreal to think that he feels the same.

“I think you know how I feel,” you reply back quietly, looking down at your hands entwined with his. 

“Say it?” he asks with a pleading face, the corners of his lips quirking up when you roll your eyes. 

“Jeong Jaehyun, do you really think I believe that you didn’t know that I’ve liked you ever since we were kids?” Shaking his head innocently at your suspicion, he pouts in a manner that’s very unlike him. 

“Fine,” you give up, unable to hide the smile creeping up on your face. “I like you Jaehyun, I like you so much that you don’t even know how happy I am right now.”

“Oh, I know. Come here,” he scoots over before tapping the side of his shoulder with his finger. Not getting the memo, you tilt your head inquisitively before he reaches over himself and puts your head on his shoulder himself. If your heart was skipping beats before, it’s probably failing to beat at all now. 

“I want you to trust me,” he murmurs under his breath, his grip tightening on your hand. “I know I don’t have the best track record right now, but I’ll prove to you how much I like you.”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “You don’t have to prove anything…“ You wholeheartedly believe and trust in his feelings, but with the way he’s looking at you right now, you decide to humor him and raise an eyebrow prompting him to go on. 

“Wait, you’ll do anything?” You ask, looking up at the stars to hide your telling grin. 

“Anything. Even suffer through another one of those awful DiCaprio movies.”

“Suffer?” you exclaim, your head lifting off of his shoulder with his words. 

“Shit- no no not suffer. Who said suffer? You must’ve misheard me, I most definitely said enjoy.”

“You’re on thin ice, Jeong.”

He snorts at your threatening expression, an arm snaking behind you to wrap around your waist protectively. 

Turning his head to look down at you, you’re met with his nose almost touching yours. You can see every eyelash, every freckle adorning his skin as neither of you make the motion to move away. 

Jaehyun loses his breath at the sight of you so close. He keeps his teasing eyes on yours before taking that extra step forward to bump your noses together. Glancing down at your lips, he steadies himself so that his voice can sound as confident as he envisions it in his head. 

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please, Jaehyun.”

With your consent, he pulls you forward by the waist before slotting your lips together carefully. You’re not sure if it’s the pressure at which he’s holding you, or the fact that you’ve waited for this moment for almost your entire youth, but kissing Jaehyun is glorious. 

He moves a hand up to cup the back of your neck before pushing forward impossibly closer, tucking your hair behind your ear in one smooth motion as his mouth moves in tandem with yours. 

You make a noise of surprise when he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, giving you a little nip before licking over the skin carefully. The passion and lust that seeps through his tongue is made clear as the minutes pass, and your reactions only spur him on.

Th mix of his skin on yours burning its way across your body and the delicacy at which he touches you makes your heart alight for a completely different reason. Threading your fingers through his hair, you're delighted to find that that particular motion makes him shudder under your hands, and kiss you more like his life depends on it.

After a while of marking each other's skin and exchanging sweet nothings between his kisses, you tap his chest to pull apart for air, your breathless mien making him grin smugly. 

“I’m that good, huh?”

“Shut up, Jaehyun.”

…

The rings on your fingers clink with his as you hand him a metal camping cup, its silver surface hot to the touch even at night. Glancing up at Jaehyun, you laugh when you catch his skeptical expression. 

“The hell is this…” he asks in borderline horror as the liquid in his cup sloshes around. 

“Mark’s gonna love hearing that,” you remark, putting your own cup to your lips as you bring your knees to your chest.

It’s the most comfortable when you’re with Jaehyun like this, sitting on the hood of his car in the dead of the night to stargaze into the early hours of the morning. 

It’s been a few weeks since that night on the rooftop, and you’ve never felt more alive. From long drives with Taeyong to mini adventures with Mark, and from jukebox diners with Chaewon and constellation hunting with Jaehyun, you finally feel at home in a place you’re about to leave. University is close on the horizon, but that doesn’t mean you can’t spend your last free evenings with the people you love the most. 

“Is this your recipe?” Jaehyun asks, pulling up your legs so that they rest over his lap. You shake your head with a cheeky smile. 

“Stole it,” you whisper, scrunching your nose at the distinct smell. 

“And what did Mark’s creative ass come up with this time,” he laments back, taking your cup to compare it with his in confusion. 

“Our cups hold the same exact thing, Jaehyun. I didn’t secretly poison your drink if that’s what you’re thinking, and I know you are.” You take back your cup before taking another sip and taking a little piece of paper out of your pocket to read from. “But anyway, it's ‘orange liquor, orange juice, lime juice, maple syrup, sliced jalapeño, and agave blanco sugar in the rim.’ You can steal the recipe too, but don't tell him that I gave it to you. He’d murder me.”

“Mm,” he muses, nuzzling into your neck. “I wouldn’t want my girlfriend dead.”

You freeze in mid-air, mind turning the title over and over again in your head. “Girlfriend?”

Jaehyun sits up immediately, looking at you with the most mortified expression on his face. “Fuck, I never asked you to be my girlfriend, did I?”

With a small giggle at his antics, you simply lean against him and pat his arm in consolation. “It’s okay, I don’t need a label to know how you feel about me.” Jaehyun hums contently before suddenly wrapping his arms around you, your delighted shriek ringing out as he pulls you down with him and falls back against the metal roof of the car. 

“Can we just stay like this forever?” 

You sigh in satisfaction as your body follows the rises and falls of his chest. The stars above seem to blink happily at the two of you as they make their way across the sky, the little, twinkling lights of overpassing planes highlighting their presence.

Intertwining your fingers with his, he gently kisses the side of your face before closing his eyes.

Even if the two of you hadn’t realized it yet, it had always been like this: two childish souls crafting the idea of mature love. Two blooming young adults, with fizzing feelings and cherry picked lips, daring to love one another like the grownups in black and white colored movies.

Your summers are defined by sticky ‘n sweet cherry cola, rides around the abandoned carousel with your friends, and “borrowing” quarters out of your brother’s Cadillac to insert into the jukebox of the local diner. They’re tinged with the taste of Mark’s special drinks and Chaewon’s sweet words, with Taeyong’s cheery voice ringing out throughout your house and your parents’ weekly sitcom reruns. And most of all, summers are made of Jaehyun’s lavender cologne and the way he holds you close when you need it the most.

“Don’t be surprised if the moon calls you by name, Y/N, because I tell her about you all the time.”

…

<3 you can find their character profiles HERE.

[ for Y/N, mark, chaewon, jaehyun, taeyong, and saemi ]

…

xoxo

2023 © kiachiako | all rights reserved.

[nikethestatue]

How the Mating Went

(In celebration of the impromptu Elain Archeron Week, because I can)

There were things that Elain Archeron preferred to keep a secret. Her family was nosy and everyone liked being in each other's business. Yes, it was cute at times, adorable even, but also annoying and intrusive.

The things that she kept secret varied in terms of importance. For example, she didn't like that restaurant that Rhys insisted they go to. The restaurant itself was fine, and the atmosphere was lovely, but the food...Elain couldn't stomach the food. But she pretended that she enjoyed it. That was a small thing. A bigger thing was that she knew how to winnow--but she hadn't told anyone. Not her sisters, not her friends. She wasn't sure why that was exactly. Perhaps, she wanted to keep a bit of freedom for herself. The other small thing was that she really didn't like anything with cinnamon. When she made spiced cakes in the fall, she usually omitted it, and it didn't seem like anyone noticed it. Well, maybe he noticed it. But he never said anything. He never said anything to her anymore. It hurt her. It hurt her heart not to hear from him, not to hear his voice, not to have him address her. It hurt.

That was, perhaps, her greatest secret. A secret that she kept deep inside her chest and never dared to speak of. Not even to the twins. It was simple, really. She was in love.

Elain Archeron loved a man. Well, a male. She never wanted a male, and didn't think that a day would ever come when she'd desire one. She didn't want a mate or a male. But this one--he was the one she loved. And if he was her mate, she wouldn't have minded it. But he wasn't and he wouldn't be. She loved him in secret. She loved him in silence. She loved him through unshed tears, with a smile plastered on her face. She loved him into the void.

Lastly, another thing that she kept a secret, was her newly discovered obsession with nightball. It was Prythian's premiere spectator sport. Where she came from, there were sporting tournaments, and tennis, and jousting, especially among the wealthy noblemen. When she was young, she and Nesta and their parents would go to the races, watching and even betting on ponies. Once, she even won six gold coins. Her mother had said that it would go towards her dowry. Elain was seven years old.

Nightball was a simple game, played between two teams--the objective was to throw a ball into a net. it was basic enough, but magic could be used, so each team had two winnowers and two racers, who ran like the wind. There were two defenders, who could erect walls of fire and air, and two fliers, who were winged Fae.

Elain would sneak out to go to the stadium to watch the games. She lied to Feyre, telling her that she was going to help elderly Fae in the city. She didn't. Well, sometimes she did--but she also had purchased tickets for 24 season games and when her favourite team was playing--the Golden Dragons--she winnowed wherever they played and attended the games. She'd scream herself hoarse, sweat through her tunic, and have the time of her life.

Today, the game happened to be in Day Court--it was her second favourite Court, after Summer. Day was beautiful, and its citizens certainly took their games very seriously. Their stadium was magnificent, made of white limestone and with the capacity to house many thousands of occupants.

The game was nerve-wracking. The Golden Dragons were playing the second best team in the League, the Dark Knights. The score was up and down the entire game, with one of the winnowers being taken out, and both fliers being ejected from the field by the referee. Elain was stress-screaming so much, she'd lost her voice. But the Dragons won and she was blissfully happy.

Now, she was walking down the marble promenade which overlooked the sea. It was warm and couples strolled alongside her, most carrying banners and insignia of their respective teams.

"Elain, wait up."

She turned around so swiftly at the sound of his voice, she almost fell over. His hand clasped around her upper arm and he steadied her, but not before she bounced against his chest, face first.

"What are you...how do you...why? How did you...you know..." she began babbling incoherently.

"I watch you," he said simply.

"What? Why?" she exclaimed, completely flustered.

He wrapped his long strong fingers around her fist and walked next to her. An Illyrian Shadowsinger was an unusual sight here, in Day Court, and he was stared at. He didn't react.

"Why are you here?" she repeated.

"Because I can't look away."

"What...what do you mean?" she murmured.

"Just that. I can't help but watch you. And when I can't watch you, I worry about you. That you know how to winnow makes it even harder for me. So I watch you when I can. And when I can't, I am tormented by the worst thoughts."

"What thoughts?"

"That you are with another male," he admitted. "Or that you are hurt and I cannot help you."

"I don't want any males," she huffed irritably.

He smiled sadly.

"I know."

They walked in silence for a long time.

There wasn't anything to say.

But he didn't release her hand.

Once out of the promenade, they stepped out onto a plaza where food stalls sold everything from fried fish, to fruit pies, to drinks and ale.

"Buy me a sweet ice," she requested.

"Alright," he nodded, "what flavour would you like?"

Elain stopped to read the offerings--raspberry, cherry, lemon, orange, coffee, almond, pistachio.

"Cherry," she said. "What's your favourite?"

"Hmmm, I am not sure," his eyes scanned the sign. "Caramel, I think."

"You like sweet on sweet."

"When you aren't allowed even a dab of honey on your lips for the length of your childhood, sweet on sweet sounds very good," he told her.

She blushed. She shouldn't have said it. She shouldn't have said anything.

"So cherry then?" he confirmed, counting some coins in his palm.

He hadn't let go of her hand though.

"No, I changed my mind," she shook her head. "I want caramel."

"Oh, so sweet on sweet then?" he teased.

Once he paid, he handed her the sweet ice and they walked towards the sea. The sun was setting. Dusk. The sea was calm, the surf smooth and quiet, like soft brushes of paint on canvas.

Elain stopped, admiring the view. It was endless ocean and endless sky in front of her, and next to her, the only one she wanted to stand with. Endless life. Endless love.

He was quiet. As always.

She exhaled. The words fell from her lips.

"I think you are my mate'," Elain said clearly.

Then she handed him the sweet caramel ice.

Sweet on sweet.

"So eat."

He ate.

[zoetekohana]

Ruby deserved better.

She deserved proper closure from Otis. She so very obviously still loved him, and was heartbroken when he ignored her texts because of Maeve. It's like Eric said, "When Maeve is involved, Otis doesn't care about anyone else anymore."

I kept waiting for Otis to go up and have a genuine talk with her, sincerely apologizing to her, but it never happened. The only thing was, "Want to be friends?" I'm so happy she turned that offer down because girl deserved better.

(I was rooting for them, though, ngl. I just really love their chemistry and interaction.)

I wish she would have had more interaction with the rest of the cast. Maybe her and Eric discussing how awful it feels when they're being neglected by Otis because of Maeve.

I wish she would have had a little more growth shown, actually on screen, where she acknowledged that her having been heavily bullied made her a bully herself as a means to protect herself. Just a bit more than just that little speech she gave at the end of wanting to become better. I mean, it was all implied very well, but I wanted her to have more screentime to have fleshed that out more. But good for her for saying condolences to Maeve about the latter having lost her mom, and not defending herself when Maeve brushed her off because Maeve had every right to do that.

Also, there should have been a mention that she's such a political powerhouse (she got Connor elected for therapist in two or so weeks, while the other two candidates have been therapists for years) and she would want to pursue a career in that. I could easily see her become a softer version of Jen Barkley from Parks & Rec.

Honestly, Ruby really deserved better.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for outing my mom when she didn't defend me against my dad? I'm 17NB, and my parents M52 and F49 are transphobic and homophobic. I thought this was fact for the majority of my life, so when I realized i'm bisexual I was terrified. I told my mom privately when i was 15 that I was questioning my sexuality because I knew she was the less violent of the two, and i was really emotional and crying the entire time. I was sobbing pretty hard when she told me to calm down and confided in me that she was also bisexual. she wasn't actually homophobic, but she married my dad despite the fact that he is and just never told him she was bisexual. before she married him she had even only ever dated women, but she told my dad she was a virgin.

anyway, for like two years i kept her secret, even when she agreed with the homophobic and transphobic shit my dad said. about two weeks ago, i talked to her about coming out to my dad as nonbinary. she was like "i'll back you up, i won't let him hurt you" yadda yadda. fast forward to three days ago, i sit my dad down and tell him i'm nonbinary.

immediately he starts yelling, calling me slurs and insulting me and all this shit. my mom isn't saying anything, just sitting there, even when my dad whacked me across the back of the head really hard. (i'm AMAB, so this was actually pretty normal for me growing up).

anyway, after his tirade, he turns to my mom and is like "can you believe this, honey?" and she called me the t-slur. she said "i won't have my son as a tr*nny" and crossed her arms and let my dad keep yelling.

after that i just lost it, i told my dad "you're calling ME a f*g, but you're the one who married one". i told my mom "tell him about all the girlfriends you had before him. tell him about how you're bisexual just like me" and both of them started telling me to get out, and they kicked me out of the house.

this morning, my mom sent me a message that said that i ruined her life and that my dad is filing for divorce because he doesn't want to be "married to a f*g".

i'm staying at my friend's place, because obviously i can't go home, but i feel like shit for turning my shitshow into my mom's shitshow. shitshow squared.

AITA???

[apas-75]

I know a lot of people got attached to a lot of ideas about how the Vader scene would go and are wondering what the point of it was if he didn’t even speak, and so my answer to that is: because it’s not about him.

That moment is not about Anakin Skywalker, his feelings about Barriss Offee, or Barriss Offee’s feelings about him. Anakin-as-Vader does not give a shit about her, which is to say he hates her the same way he hates everyone he meets. He puts the blame for Ahsoka leaving him squarely at Ahsoka’s feet, and hates her for it, wants her dead for it. Barriss doesn’t matter to him any more than any other Jedi he knew before the purge does. (If there’s any tinge of personal feeling, it’s more adjacent to satisfaction at seeing her stuck in the same despair trap as him than anything else.) And Barriss doesn’t have a clue who he is.

So: The point of that moment is that Barriss sees that she’s kneeling to a Sith Lord. She sees that things are so much worse than she had ever feared. She sees that she’s completely lost control of her life.

And in that moment, she cannot see the way out. She feels small and afraid and everyone she loves is dead and the entire oppressive structure of the Empire is bearing down on her and saying: If you want to live, this is what you have to be. This is all you can ever be. If you step a foot out of line you’ll be dead and it won’t even do anything to help anyone.

Later, when she gets back out in the galaxy and sees again the effect she can have on people, she’ll rekindle hope within her and see the way out. There was simply NO universe where Barriss “friend to all children” Offee could ever have been an Inquisitor past the moment where she actually had to fulfill the duties of one, and the whole point of this failed attempt to force her into the Inquisitorius was to show that was true; whether she ended that first mission dead or as another rogue Jedi on the run, she never would have been what the Grand Inquisitor wanted her to be.

But right then? Now? Kneeling to Vader, knowing that she’d be dead before she could even draw the new red lightsaber on her back—the one that she hates and that hates her back because she was forced to profane it herself?* When the Grand Inquisitor has kept her isolated and provoked her over and over again so that when she finally lashes out to defend herself he can tell her that’s who she really is? There’s nothing she can do. There’s nothing she can do.

That’s her lowest point. That’s the only moment she ever really was the First Sister.

(*Kyber crystal bleeding is the kind of thing that only really hits if you're a huge turbonerd about the star war lore and know how it works, so I get why they skipped over it onscreen when it's really just a more abstract metaphor for what she was forced to do in the pit fight, but given that we know Iskat and Reva both made theirs themselves there's no way they didn't make Barriss do it too.)

[gallusrostromegalus]

So, how exactly was the Gotei 13 formed in AEIWAM?

(The original gotei-13 captains might have canon genders but I'm going off vibes tbh.) (Here's a collection of Kubo's art of the original 13 so you can see what everyone looks like)

-----

It had started with the Clans.

Actually, it had started when Shigekuni Yamamoto was mugged for the fourth time in as many days, by agents of The Great Noble Houses, trying to influence the tide of their endless petty wars. You could hardly blame him for reacting as he did, somewhat literally blowing up with rage, and upon his return to his home office, rallying his fellow distraught men into a fighting force to stand up to the clans.

It had been quite a popular manuver for him, with the equally distraught and downtrodden citizens of the central rukongai threw their support behind him in short order. He was already well-known to them, and respected for his work. In a few short years, his meager forces had grown to rival the clans in power.

Then the Quincies had invaded the Spirit World, lead by some horrible creature known as Yhwach, seemingly Hell-Bent on conquest- which is where all of them would end up if The Archery Bastards kept shooting everything that moved and upended the balance between the worlds.

Now-General Shigekuni Yamamoto, the unfortunate bastard to whom the task of defending the largest city in the Spirit world from invasion had fallen, needed some muscle.

Why me, of all people? Surely there were others more qualified? He wondered, staring at the latest round of reports from the meager handful of his men that remained. Or perhaps everyone smart enough to actually do this is also smart enough to realize it was a lost cause and had thrown their lot in with one of the Noble Houses, and I am on a fool's errand.

Even just a handful of warriors with sufficient strength could break the leading edge of the Quincy line, and let the small army that remained slip behind them in to cut the Quincies off from their supply lines. It was just that breaking the wall of archers required at least a dozen of him.

"Word from lieutenant Sasakibe!" Shouted one of his soldiers, sprinting in the door and thrusting a letter at him. "Sorry sir I just remembered how important it was that you heard from him as soon as possible."

"You did as I asked." Yamamoto nodded, opening the letter. He had needed to stay- both to recover from his injuries and because if the Quincy got much closer, using Ryujin jakka to create a wall of fire around the city might be the only way to hold them off- and he had tasked Chojiro Sasakibe, his Longest and Dearest friend, with finding him the strongest warriors in Soul Society.

He took the scroll and opened it, reading the neat but excitably slanted handwriting within-

Dearest Shigekuni,

I am relieved to report I have found a dozen extremely powerful warriors per your request! I went on a hunch a friend of mine had, and found a concentration of MANY powerful warriors that would be willing to aid our cause, but twelve among them are particularly standout candidates. Given the rapid advance of the Quincy Army, I have included a teleportation spell to their location at the end of this scroll so you may meet them immediately.

"Incredible!" Yamamoto laughed. "Is there nothing this man cannot do?"

I do beg of you though- Please, reserve your judgement of them until you have seen their capacity.

"Ah." Yamamoto sighed. "...of course there's a catch."

Their circumstances are... complex, and this has made many of them rough and peculiar to speak to, but I swear we will not find better warriors, at least not before the Quincy advance reaches Seireitei.

I await your arrival, Chojiro

Yamamoto unfurled the scroll a bit more to see the edge of the teleportation spell that would activate when exposed to sunlight. "Sir?" asked the young soldier.

"It seems Sasakibe was successful in finding me the assistance we need, but they are apparently a queer lot." Yamamoto rumbled, thinking. "There is a teleportation spell- How close did you say the Advance was?"

"Not more than a week out, sir."

"Hopefully less than two hours then." he grunted, standing up and carrying the scroll to the courtyard of the building he operated from- it was a place used to the many comings and goings of a large and complex organization, though the little Shrine to the God of Messages and messengers had been somewhat neglected of late. Yamamoto took a moment to sweep the leaves out of the shrine and bowed to the statue within, thanking it for delivering Sasakibe's message and asking for help delivering him to his friend.

"Any orders while you're away, Sir?" The soldier asked.

"Someone clean out that shrine and make it a proper offering. The last thing we need is for communications to go down." The General nodded.

"Yes Sir!" the soldier saluted.

Yamamoto unfurled the scroll and with a flash, vanished from the courtyard.

---

With the same flash, he appeared somewhere... foggy.

"Shigekuni?" a familiarly crisp voice asked somewhere in the ether.

"Chojiro?" Yamamoto called back, and the vague shape that might have been a rock in front of him stood up, arms open. He laughed, and embraced his friend. "Good job! How did you find them so fast?"

Sasakibe's warm smile suddenly stiffened into a grimace. "...Promise you will not be angry?"

"Chojiro?" Yamamoto frowned.

"See, I was asking my friends- only the most trusted of them, I swear- how to even go about finding warriors with everything scattered to the wind of late, and well- One of them suggested that only things that are powerful are widely feared, so look where fearsome things are to find powerful ones."

Yamamoto squinted at his friend, then around them at the dense fog, the strange rocky cliff beside them, and the distant sound of angry voices.

"Chojiro." Yamamoto asked, hands on his shoulders. "Where are we?"

Sasakibe pointed up behind Yamamoto where characters had been carved into the stone cliff.

The Nest Of Maggots

"Chojiro."

"Yes, sir?"

"This is a prison."

"Yes, sir."

"This is a prison for the kind of filth that even the most bitterly factious clans agree is a danger to have wandering around. The kind that they already tried and failed to weaponize against each other. This is a prison for Monsters."

"...Yes, sir." Sasakibe sighed. "-But, is is not monsters we need?"

Yamamoto was silent for a time, thinking of the swathes of pointless destruction- salted fields and burnt villages- of the senseless loss of life- slaughtering soldier and civilian alike down to the last man, woman and child- of the cruel and twisted powers of the chosen favorites of Yhwach.

"Monsters to fight monsters." He shook his head. "What is this world coming to?" Yamamoto sighed.

Sasakibe looked away, unable to meet his friend's gaze. "Still, beggars can't be choosers." Yamamoto nodded. "Show them to me."

--- All twelve "Most Dangerous" of The Nest's prisoners had been herded together into something approximating a straight line in the middle of the rocky cavern that housed the prisoners here, though some of them were already beginning to meander, and one woman near the end of the line had, rather rudely, decided to remain seated in Yamamoto's presence. The lineup was... less than impressive. Two of the women looked like they belonged on pinup posters rather than death row. One of the men looked like a washed-up Sumo, another like an ashtray that had been cursed to roam the afterlife as a human. On one end of the line was an ancient and decrepit old man, and on the other was a- Yamamoto wasn't actually sure if they were a man or a woman, but in another life, they had definitely been a cat.

"These are the most powerful fighters in the Spirit World?"  He muttered to Chojiro.

"These are the most still-alive-est fighters in the Spirit World." Chojiro clarified.

"...Fuck it. " Yamamoto sighed under his breath, before stepping forward and addressing them properly.

"I am General Shigekuni Yamamoto of The Seireitei. I don't know how long you've been in this hole-" Yamamoto paused, sensing that something was off.

None of the Prisoners were looking at him. In fact, the all seemed very dedicated to looking everywhere but at him. Some were inspecting the stalactites, others were examining the grit on the cave floor, or staring into the metaphysical abyss somewhere just over his shoulder, and one man had pulled his very silly straw hat down in front of his face.

"-Alright, what the hell is going on?" Yamamoto growled.

There was a general unenthusiastic sort of shuffling and a distinct lack of answers.

"Remember everyone!" The man next to the cat-in-human-form spoke up while examining his fingernails. He looked more like an accountant than someone who belonged on Death Row, but the others perked up and paid attention. "-We are not to speak to any guards of visitors until our representative arrives and has given us permission to do so." The others nodded and resumed looking anywhere but at Yamamoto.

"...Representative?" Sasakibe lightly growled at a guard, whose complexion went from 'ashen' to 'deathly'.

"They um. Well. They've gotten rather close to one of the other prisoners, but she's no good in a fight, so we left her-" The Guard sputtered under Sasakibe's withering glare.

"-Miss Tsubaki was waiting at the Primary gate last I saw her." continued the man who looked like an accountant and that Yamamoto was becoming increasingly sure was armed, despite allegedly having been searched and denied any tools in his confinement. "...I say to no-one in particular." He added.

There was a moment of silence.

Yamamoto struck the tired-looking, gray-haired young woman beside the accountant, sending her stumbling back, but the accountant and the sturdily-built blonde man beside her stepped in to catch her, the rest of the line snapping to attention, eyes fixed on him with utter rage.

"Now that I have your attention-" Yamamoto started again, the gray-haired woman coughing as the sturdy blonde helped her back to her feet. "-As I was saying, the Spirit World is being invaded, and you're all being conscripted to-"

"Yachiru!" Snapped a young woman behind them.

Yamamoto turned to glare at the interloper, but instead found that the gaunt-looking woman that had remained seated had somehow apparently teleported and tackled Sasakibe to the wall behind them, one arm pressed to his throat, slowly choking him. Apparently-Yachiru's other hand had put some substantial holes in his abdomen and she paused from where she was about to stark licking Sasakibe's blood off her fingers to look at who had spoken.

"Don't eat that! You don't know where it's been!" Said a waifish young woman in threadbare prisoner's robes who could not have been taller than 4'10". She was quite striking, with large, dark eyes, sharp cheekbones, and a long aquiline nose. She took Yachiru's bloodied hand and dragged her back to the group. Yamamoto tried to keep his pace even as he walked over to check on Sasakibe, who immediately sat up and waved him off.

"...Thirsty." Grunted Yachiru- She might also have been beautiful, with her pale, round face and smooth black hair, were it not for the haunted, carnivorous look in her eye and her apparently literal bloodthirst. She stopped halfway back to the group to give a wet, hacking cough that made Yamamoto's skin crawl, and spat out a gob of bloody phlegm on the floor.

"You'll feel better when you get Minazuki back." the young woman reassured her, helping Yachiru sit back down, the others taking seats on the stone floor as well, in two neat lines behind her, the Human Cat behind one shoulder, the Accountant behind the other. "Is everyone else alright?"

"Kinroku definitely did not tell the guards to go get you." announced the man from behind his straw hat. "Also the mean old man hit Chigiri."

"I understand. Do you need assistance, Chigiri?

"The Old Goat has a sucker-punch like a rocket but I'll live." grunted Chigri, rubbing her abdomen and waving her hand interrogatively at Yachiru, who shrugged in reply.

"Despicable Behavior, hitting a medic." the human ashtray sniffed disapprovingly. Yamamoto could feel the Reiatsu of the group now, previously held in check, now starting to unfurl and growl and snarl at him.

"You BASTARDS-!" Yamamoto snarled, lunging towards the young woman, who instinctively made a fist in front of her chest, grabbed it with her other hand, and swung her whole body around, slamming her elbow into his eye socket and nose, and he stumbled, falling to his knees. It wasn't that hard a hit, not compared to what he was used to, but there was genuine killing intent behind it, much like the heel she struck into the side of his head, knocking him over the rest of the way in surprise. Miss Tsubaki's large, dark eyes were full of rage as she glared down at him, grinding his head into the floor under her toes. "Ah." He said, finally recognizing her from images in the intermittent news bulletins. Tsubaki was a middle daughter of one of the most powerful of the Noble Houses who had suddenly vanished from public view the year before. The rumor was that she had been imprisoned by her father for dangerous activities like 'Going Places' and 'Writing Letters' or even 'Having Opinions'. It was apparently true, but if she'd managed to organize the dirtiest dozen of the Maggot's Nest, he was beginning to understand her father's choice of internment. "Miss Tsunayashiro, I presume."

"I am her, and I am here in my capacity as their Union Representative. This means you do not talk to them. You talk to me." She lightly snarled, removing her surprisingly sharp-heeled foot from his temple and sitting seiza in front of the group. "Now what is it that you have brought us here to discuss?"

"Your friends are getting conscripted." he glared, slowly getting up and standing to address her. Returning the blow to a civilan, no matter who her family was or how hard she hit, was beneath either of their dignity, but a little looming was alright.

"We're getting hired." She corrected him. "With proper contracts and compensation."

"Shut up or else." He snarled, reconsidering the value of his dignity.

"...Or else what, exactly?" She asked.

Yamamoto bristled, and slowly drew his sword. Tsunayashiro's gaze flicked to the blade, following it's gleam as he brought it up to her throat, tipping her chin up with the point. "-Or you will all die right here." Tsubaki closed her eyes, sighed deeply and opened them again, gaze fixed on his. He could feel her pulse through Ryujin Jakka's blade.

...Steady as a rock.

"Alright." She spoke evenly. "Strike me down."

Yamamoto blinked.

"We are already on Death Row, General." She explained slowly as though speaking to an idiot. "None of us have families to speak of, or to speak to, for you to threaten. We're already cold and barely allowed to sleep and starving and in constant pain from broken bones or missing organs or untreated injuries. We are all already doomed to die or suffer gross abasement. You, however-"

She slowly stood up, neck sliding a bit on Ryujin Jakka's blade, drawing a trickle of blood.

"-I've been in here for the better part of a year, I believe, but news trickles in. Guards leave to replace soldiers fallen on the battlefield. Rations dwindle as farmland is overrun or destroyed. Political prisoners are freed and returned home as more popular heirs and scions are killed. You, General Shigekuini Yamamoto, need help with this war, and need it badly, to come here for it." Tsubaki continued, stepping forward and pressing a bit more into the blade, the trickle running more strongly, down her throat and into the folds of her thin Yukakta, staining the fabric bright red.

"So go on. Strike us down." She spoke softly. "Spare us the Humiliation of a Public execution or the horrors of a lobotomy, and doom yourself."

Yamamoto, quite possibly for the first time in his life, hesitated.

"If you cannot do that, sit down and negotiate like a civilized person." She said. The blood stained her entire breast now, but she did not flinch or waver.

Slowly, glaring and refusing to break eye contact, he withdrew his blade, wiped it down and sheathed it. Teeth gritted and heart unexpectedly racing, he sat. Lady Tsunayashiro followed, head still held high, though that may have been so Chigiri could lean forward and press a pad of torn robe to her throat, stemming the bleeding as she bandaged it, muttering curses.

"We're being invaded by an army of mutant humans called "Quincy" who can shoot arrows made of pure reishi, which can obliterate a soul entirely. They're lead by some monster called Yhwach, who seems hell-bent on conquering the entirety of the Living and Spirit worlds, and is apparently capable of killing small gods and Kami." Yamamoto explained, trying to stress the depth of the situation. He'd never been in a labor negotiation before, and was hoping they'd be more reasonable if he made an emotional appeal. "Kill enough of the archery bastards and live, and I'll have all your crimes pardoned."

"What a shame, what a shame." clucked the old man at the far end of the lines. "You young people just don't know how to handle things..."

"Hmmm..." The person who was definitely at least spiritually a cat pursed their lips. "Oh, uh- Chika Shihon." the bowed their head. "-It's a good start, but I'm gonna need a hell of a payday, seeing as nobody will hire an ex-criminal, even a pardoned one, and about forty more people need to die before my family will consider taking me back in."

"As well as some form of protection from political reprisals, or there won't be an opportunity to spend any of that payday." said Kinroku the Accountant, rubbing his nose like he was going to push up a pair of glasses he wasn't wearing.

"Paying criminals? Surely, you can't be serious!" Sasakibe scoffed.

"I am serious, and my name is Tsubaki, not Shirley." The representative quietly smirked at him. "Well, General? What price are you willing to offer for the salvation of all of Soul Society?"

"I want to see some proof before we talk price." Yamamoto glared at the Death Row From The Dumpster before him.

"Fair enough." Nodded Tsubaki, turning her head to address the group. "After me, who would you all say is the weakest fighter?"

The group considered this for a moment.

"Strongest is easy, its Yachiru, even with the missing lung." waved the pinup girl with the eyepatch and pigtails.

"Give Uhin some credit!" Protested the other pinup girl with the tits that were individually larger than her head.

"That's sweet of you to say Batsu-" Uhin the Giant in the back row laughed, patting the second girl's head. "-But also holy shit, no. Yachiru could disembowel me and strangle me with my own intestines before I could get off the mark! No offense little man, but I think it's Furuoki." He said, patting the straw hat of the man in front of him.

"Really?" Tits McGee pondered. "I was going to say Nobutsuna."

"I was gonna say me too." announced the human ashtray with a rough and reedy voice. "I hate fighting." "Yeah, but you hit like a fuckin' rockslide. Yeah, it's Furuoki." Agreed eyepatch.

"Mr. Otogawa-" Tsubaki addressed Furuoki the hat man. "-It's rather dark in here, would you please let in some light?"

Furuoki blinked at her, confused.

"Show the old man you can punch a hole in the ceiling." Yachiru translated for him, wetly.

"Okay!" Furuoki chirped happily, getting up and walking a few feet away.

"MORE!" yelled the group.

"Over by the guard tower!" Encouraged the large and rather jolly looking man, save for how he seemed to have lost both his lips and most of the front of his mouth, but had only bothered to replace his missing teeth with gold ones, giving him a permanent lipless grin.

Furuoki walked over towards the guard tower until the guards approached him and told him to back up, paced a bit until he found a suitable middle ground, and squinted up at the ceiling.

"Sir-" Sighed the head guard walking towards Furuoki as frowned at the ceiling. "Sir that's half a mile of solid rock and twelve different magical wards above you. It's not gonna work."

Furuoki instead dropped down on one knee, aimed, and-

A dazzling blue-green light and a noise like the roaring fires of Hell Itself erupted from his fist as he punched up towards the ceiling, vaporizing the stone above him and making all 12 wards chime and tinkle like glass as he broke through them. As the mushroom cloud of dust dispersed, sunlight began to filter in through the hole, at least 100 feet in diameter. The top third of the Guard tower seemed to have evaporated as well, and the guards were scrambling to try to control the panic.

"Is that enough?" Furuoki called.

"...Is it, General?" miss Tsubaki asked.

"...Ten Thousand Kan?" Yamamoto tried.

"That's fine dear, please come sit back down." Tsubaki waved.

"I am surprised, general." She smiled at Yamamoto in a way that reminded him uncomfortably of they way the post office cat would smile at the mice. "Ten Thousand Kan annually per individual is a very reasonable offer."

"A one-time payment of Ten thousand Kan to be split between the group." he growled.

"No." She shook he head. "You're offering us annual salaries, individually."

"The hell I am."

"Then we will enjoy watching the collapse of civilization through the new Skylight Furuoki made us." She replied, unconcerned. "You may have noticed, General, that there is a war on, and this is an exceptionally safe and secure place to be. Make it worth leaving."

"-Two minutes ago this was a frozen hellhole you were all starving in." he glared.

"Ah, but the view and property value has improved substantially in the last two minutes!" She smiled, unconcerned with his complaints. "There is no punishment you could mete out that is worse than remaining here, General, but you are not an advancing army of superhuman mutants, and there are MANY things the Quincy can do to us that are worse than remaining here. You are in a most unenviable position."

Yamamoto grimaced. "You're sure this is the best there is?" he muttered to Sasakibe.

"We could also try swearing loyalty to one noble house and hoping the other four don't try to kill us before the Quincy do." Sasakibe grunted, hand over the puncture wounds in his guts. "I don't like it either. but I like our other options even less."

Yamamoto sighed. "...Five thousand Kan Annually per individual."

"Ten thousand." replied Tsubaki.

"Seven thousand."

"Ten thousand."

"That's not how this is supposed to go." Yamamoto grumbled.

"And yet, this is how it's going." She smirked. "There is also the matter of the political protections!"

"DAMMIT!"

---

Half an hour later, terms had been reached.

Full pardons, Ten Thousand Kan, annually per individual (plus expenses), and political protections in the form of employing them as commanding officers on the condition that they "-Don't get killed, and prove you're smarter than a sack of hammers and at least half as useful."

"No for real, I'll forgive the old man the gut punch, lemme do something so you're not bleedin' all over my contract?" Chigiri sighed, watching Sasakibe write up the contracts.

"I'll trust my body to keep my guts on the right side of my skin over someone's dirty socks." he sighed. "Or do you have something else on hand?"

"Minazuki." Muttered Yachiru, leaning heavily on Chigiri.

"Oh right! I keep forgetting she does the fish thing." Chigiri perked up. "Yeah tell the guards to go get her sword, it turns into a... fuckin' whatsit, the big flat fish? Turns into one of those that can heal anything."

"Again, I trust my own faculties over any sort of Healing Halibut." Chojiro groaned.

"Stingray." Yachiru muttered, wheezing a bit. "Minazuki is a stingray."

"Alright, back in line everyone- I need you all to confirm your identities and what crimes you need pardoned, and to sign your contracts." Sasakibe sighed, standing up with the contracts and handing the first to Yamamoto.

"Shigekuni Yamamoto, Dereliction of duty and Mail-tampering, among other assorted sins." He said, smirking a bit at his own joke as he took the contract.

"Thank you sir." Sasakibe sighed, shuffling the pile of folders containing the files of the dozen criminals, and stepping up to the first one.

"Chika Shihon-" He read off, matching the drawn portrait to the person in front of him- Chika was a rather handsome young thing, with warm bronze skin and short, soft white hair. It was the gleam in their yellow eyes that made Sasakibe worry. "- Sentenced to lifetime imprisonment or death for staging a clan coup, twelve counts of fratricide and... dabbling in forbidden Kido?"

"Oh, like you've never had a family dinner that got out of control!" Chika huffed, indignant.

"I'm more curious about the Kido, actually." Yamamoto said, peering over his file.

Chika beamed and Sasakibe got as far as a choked "NOT HERE-!" before they vanished in a cloud of smoke. When it cleared, they were still wearing the same excited expression, but now as a small white house cat.

Sasakibe and Yamamoto stared at the cat for a moment, then at each other in a mutual expression of I can't believe we've been reduced to asking these freaks for help.

"Well, when you've got thumbs again, please read your contract, then sign and initial all the indicated areas, and swipe your blood across the bottom." Sasakibe sighed, bending over to hand the kitty their contract. "Remember, these contracts are legally and magically binding. Betray us, and die immediately."

"Next is- Kinroku Izuhara-" Sasakibe was interrupted by one of guards appearing with the confiscated personal belongings of the prisoners, including an entire bundle of swords under his arm.

"I understand not giving us our weapons until the contracts are signed and the seal is placed upon us, but may I have my glasses back?" Kinroku asked, voice crisp and arch. He was certainly the least ragged-looking of the group, his graying hair still neatly trimmed and face clean-shaven.

Yamamoto held out a hand and the guard placed the appropriate glasses in his palm. "Trade you for whatever you have that's kept you so clean-shaven it's making my mustache itch." Yamamoto glared.

Kinroku smirked, and produced a piece of bone that had been exquisitely sharpened into a razor's edge.

"This is a human bone." Yamamoto observed.

"Unfortunately, poorer quality than the bones of pigs or cattle in terms of holding an edge, but it's done it's job." Kinrku nodded.

"...This says you're on death row for ...Tax Evasion?" Sasakibe glared at the file as the blade was traded for the glasses.

"Yes. I made an unfortunate miscalculation regarding the loyalty of my men, so I am glad you are taking adequate precautions." Kinroku muttered, cleaning his glasses on his robe, holding them up to the dim sunlight filtering through the hole, and frowning, disappointed.

"Men?" Yamamoto asked. "You've had experience commanding armed forces before?"

"After a fashion." he said, signing the contract and biting into his thumb to finish the deal. "You've heard of The Vipers of the southern reaches?"

"The decentralized bandit gang that disbanded a few years back? I thought their leader had died?" Sasakibe frowned.

Kinroku smirked at him.

"...Oh, for fuckssake." Sasakibe groaned.

"Chigiri Shijima." Yamamoto read off, having already moved on. "...What the hell kind of charge is Aggravated Medical Research?"

"Can't make an emergency field medicine manual omlette without breaking a few bones. And causing a few disembowelments. And poking out a few eyes." She explained.

Yamamoto slowly arched an eyebrow at her.

"I PUT 'EM ALL BACK!" Chigiri protested. "...Eventually."

"Read. Sign. Blood." Yamamoto sighed, handing her the contract.

"For real though, your man okay? I can have those stitched in under a minute." Chigiri pointed her thumb at Sasakibe.

"That's some fast-acting painkillers." Sasakibe noted.

"What painkillers?" Chigiri asked, genuinely confused.

"...I'll take my chances with the halibut." Sasakibe winced, turning to the next man in line. "Danjiro Obana?"

"Yeah!" Grinned the sturdy-looking blonde man, all smiles and friendliness now that an agreement had been reached. "Lookin' forward to workin' with you guys!"

"...Imprisoned for cannibalism?" Sasakibe asked, horrified.

"IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!" Danjiro hollered, voice echoing around the cavern.

"How do you accidentally consume human flesh?" Yamamoto glared.

"Well- okay it wasn't an 'accident' per se, but look, that Ise Clan guy locked me in the family mausoleum to die, and understandably, I got the munches, and the coffins were fulla, eh... post-sapient jerky?" Danjiro explained. "I really don't know what he expected to happen. Really surprised when he opened up the door a month later and I gut punched his spine out though. I don't regret that one bit."

"You know? That's fair." decided Sasakibe, handing him a contract. "Read, sign, blood."

"Yessir!" Danjiro saluted happily.

"Furufoshi Saito?" Yamamoto asked the young woman with the purple pigtails and eyepatch that was next in line.

"I DID NOT 'KIDNAP' HIM, HE'S MY HUSBAND AND THEY'RE ALL A BUNCH OF PRICKS!" She roared.

Yamamoto blinked at her, then leaned over to read "Accused of Abducting and 'Deflowering' the eldest son of the Kuchiki clan' on her file. "...Care to elaborate on that?"

"I found poor Kyoga-kun half-dead on my doortstep after the battle of River Bo- he still had spears in him, the poor thing! So like a sane and reasonable person I took him in and nursed the sweet thing back to heath and- well, a beautiful man in my bed, grateful to me for saving his life and offering me his eternal love and gratitude- How could a girl resist?" She sighed, hearts in her remaining eye.

"-and since I'd carried him over the threshold into my home we were basically married already, so it wasn't wrong of me to ride him like a pony or violate his warranty like that! He loved it! He loves ME! AND I LOVE HIM! It's just that the rest of the Kuchiki clan are a bunch of snobs with no sense of romance." She sighed, melancholy, then looked up at him, chewing her lip in nervousness. "...You haven't. heard anything about him?"

Yamamoto considered her story, and the few times he'd met Kyoga Kuchiki- a delicate young man with a sense of romantic grandeur and when he'd seen the boy recently, he had been lying facedown on the floor and sobbing, in quite some distress over being separated from his beloved-

"...Daddy Bear?" Yamamoto asked, bewildered.

"MY LITTLE BABY BEAR REMEMBERS ME!" She shrieked with joy, "Is he alright? I've been so worried, he still wasn't over that septic infection and the war keeps getting closer-" She demanded, grabbing Yamamoto by his Kosode and shaking him for answers.

"-As of last month, he was distraught over your absence, but otherwise hale. The sooner the Quincy are dead, the sooner you can see him again. Read, sign, blood." Yamamoto said, detangling himself from her and putting the contract between them.

"Ah, Ever-turbulent but true runs the course of Love." sighed the charred man beside her. "Nobotsuna Shigyo, at your service." he introduced himself, bowing politely.

"I'm Batsu'unsai Katori- We were arrested and imprisoned for roughly the same incident and it may help to be introduced at the same time." Said the woman with the exceptionally large breasts beside him. "Um, I'll need my glasses back too- Oh, thank you!"

"The sight of sunlight is so strange after such time." Mused Nobotsuna. "Even before our imprisonment, the Lady Katori and I were leaders of a secret underground society!"

"It was less of a society and more of a Polycule that got out of control-" Explained Batsu'unsai. "Once I discovered by spiritual powers, I moved in with the great sage Shou Dokutsu, and began hanging out with and then dating other people with spiritual powers and they started bringing their partners to my district and pretty soon there were so many of us that the easiest way to house everyone was to start developing the extensive underground cave systems in the area."

"We manufactured many fine magical artifacts, so called ourselves The Under-Wares!" Said Nobotsuna.

"We actually called ourselves The Kido Union, because in addition to the magical tools, we formed a united labor front to keep the clans from exploiting us." She explained, and Yamamoto began to understand her interruption.

"I am the wise Loremaster of our people!" Said Nobutsuna.

"He's a stablehand." Batsu'unsai smiled.

"But the clans did not like that they were no longer able to exploit and abuse us now that we had allied in great numbers, and war came to our peaceful nation of Shou's Hole!" he said, with genuine sadness.

Yamamoto and Sasakibe looked back at Batsu'unsai.

"It actually is called Shou's Hole." she sighed. "He just wanted it so badly."

"I wore them down!" Notbotsuna grinned.

"Still, the clans did not like that they now had to pay to have magical labor done and that we would outright refuse their more barbaric requests, and eventually I think it was the Shibas that mounted an all-out assault on us. Last I heard, most of the Union made it out through the other exits from the caves, but Dokutsu-san and most of our heavy hitters stayed at the primary entrance to buy time. Nobotsuna and I were the only ones to survive the assault, and Hiraku Shiba had us thrown in here." Batsu'unsai sighed.

"Prick." Spat Nobotsuna. "Oh sure, when a head of one of the so-called 'Noble' houses goes around decapitating people and burning them alive it's considered 'honorable combat' and 'keeping the peace', but when I, a man whose family tree isn't a fucking wreath of incest, retaliates in a decidedly less lethal fashion suddenly its 'treason' and 'making up a spell called Penis Blast is a war crime'!!"

"-What kind of blast?" asked Sasakibe.

"He can demonstrate it for us on The Archery Bastards. Read, sign, blood." Yamamoto said, thrusting contracts at them.

"Entetsu Kumoi." Read off Sasakibe as they came to the bald man who was nearly as wide as he was tall, with the exposed gold teeth. Entetsu looked up from where he'd finished putting his glasses back on and arranged his hairless brows into something that indicated that he'd be smiling politely if he had lips. "Imprisoned for your participation in the riot at the Windroad House, where you..." Sasakibe frowned at the file. "-Attacked and killed one hudred fifty-seven town guards with a brick, and mounted an assault on the local Dyamo?"

"Always morally correct, hittin' cops with bricks." Nodded Entetsu. "-Specially ones comin' t' kill just because some people are out havin' a good time, doin' no harm to no-one."

"The Windroad House is a Bar in the 3rd district famous for it's ah. Exotic. Cabaret performances." Sasakibe explained to Yamamoto, who didn't get out much.

"You were. At one of these performances?' Yamamoto asked.

"Ah, nah- just gotten off the job and had nipped down to the pub across th'way for a pint when I saw the pigs kick in the door an' start dragggin' the ladies out and I thought 'well that ain't right', so I started throwin' bricks until I were on me last brick and then I hunted them down wit' that last brick until there were none left." he explained. "Then I thinks, 'well, there's only none left until more come from the station', so's I made me way up the road to the station wit' me brick and had me a little hogslaughter up there too, see?"

"...And you just. kept going?" Sasakiba asked.

"So's I did! Right up to the head hog's trough, though by then it were well early in the mornin' and I were tired an' had some dozen spears in me back and me brick had fallen apart, so's I dinna get hims haunches fer ham." Entetsu sighed.

"Persistence! Very good quality in a captain!" Grinned Yamamoto, handing him the contract. "You know what to do by now."

They turned to the rather comely young man with the straw hat. "Furuoki, was it?" Yamamoto asked, feeling something that wasn't hopeful, per se, but these were strong people, and deeply insane and they were agreeing to help him, something that made his heart race with a delirious sort of mania.

"Yes. I am Furuoki Otogawa." he nodded.

"-And you're imprisoned here for- ecological terrorism, defiling holy a holy site and creating a dangerous magical device?" Sasakibe asked.

"What?" asked Yachiru, getting back to her feet and leaning heavily on him. "You told me you were in here for Jaywalking?"

"I thought I was?" Said Furuoki, frowning and tipping his head with confusion.

"It says here you constructed a device over the Tenjo no Ganbo waterfalls to, ah- 'suck up the carp in the pool at the base of the waterfall and launch them, at speed, up and over the waterfall'." Sasakibe read off and looked up to see Furuoki staring into the distance, eyes watering.

"They wanted to get to the lake at the top so badly they were swimming up the waterfall, but they kept falling down and getting hurt!" he sobbed, overcome with emotion. "I just made a chute to safely carry them to the top and gently toss them in the lake! how is that a crime?"

"-because when a carp makes it to the top of Tenjo no Ganbo falls, IT TURNS INTO A DRAGON! YOU MADE HUNDREDS OF DRAGONS SUDDENLY APPEAR! THOUSANDS BEFORE THEY COULD DISMANTLE THE DAMN THING!!" Sasakibe shouted.

"Ohhh." Furuoki said, nodding. "-I'd wondered where all the dragons had come from. I still don't see why that's a crime though?"

"Gods help us." Groaned Yamamoto.

"Dragons tend to be. Kinda destructive." Yachiru spoke slowly, her voice still rough and hollow-sounding. " 'specially to little villages."

"Oh." Furuoki said quietly, horrified.

"Don't worry, I'll deal with them once I get my lung back and bust outta this joint." Yachiru reassured him as Sasakibe handed Furuoki his contract.

"You wont be 'busting out' of anywhere, miss-" Sasakibe suffled the papers to open her file. "-Yachiru Unohana! You're obligated to serve General Yamamoto in exchange for your freedom, seeing as you're imprisoned for- for-"

Sasakibe froze, staring at the file. "-That has to be a Mistake."

"What?" Grunted Yamamoto, sizing the woman up. According to the group, if Furuoki who could rip this heavily fortified prison open like an ant's nest was their weakest fighter, this sickly-looking woman was their strongest.

"The file says she's imprisoned for killing ten thousand people!" babbled Sasakibe.

"Oh, no, that isn't right." grunted Yachiru, and Sasakibe sighed with relief.

"-Should be closer to twelve or fifteen thousand." She clarified, and Sasakibe went white.

"Read, sign, mark with your blood at the bottom." Yamamoto sighed, thrusting the contract at her.

"Uhhh... can't." She said, staring blankly at the contract, then slowly looking up at Yamamoto.

"What do you mean 'can't'?"  he growled.

"I can't read." she said.

Sasakibe hid his face in his hands, groaning with pain, while Yamamoto turned on his heel and threw his hands in the air, silently beseeching any available Gods for help.

"You get what you pay for, General." Called Chika, having changed back into the clothes they'd arrived in- garish red-orange and black ninja garb of the Shihon clan- and tying their sword back onto their gaudy belt.

"I am paying all of you a frankly OBSCENE amount of money, I don't think it's unreasonable to expect basic literacy!" Yamamoto snapped.

"It's okay girl, I'll read it to you and then you can have Minazuki back, okay?" Chigiri volunteered, wrapping an arm around her illiterate compatriot and walking her back to some seat-height rocks.

"Let's just get this over with." Yamamoto sighed, glaring at Tsubaki, who only smiled serenely back at him. "Uhin Zenjoji?"

"Present, sir." Beamed the enormous man who looked like a professional Sumo wrestler- there was fat, lots of it, but underneath, an unsettlingly steady grace and power to his movements.

"Your file says you're imprisoned for Smuggling, Murder, Bootlegging, Murder, Trafficking, Murder, More murder and... one hundred seventy two violations of The Migratory Bird Act?"

"The only two I will dispute are the trafficking and migratory bird charges-" he said, delicately holding up two fingers. "-firstly, it's not trafficking to move refugees from the clan wars out of danger without giving the aforementioned clans a cut. I'm no pimp."

"And the birds?" Yamamoto glared, intrigued more than anything.

"A man may have his hobbies and his charitable works!" Uhin said, touching his hand to his chest in faux-impassioned speech. "I collect and breed rare and endangered birds- the world would a sadder place without their songs. So I have- well, had- an aviary up in the mountains where they could be propagated in peace." Uhin sighed.

"Huh. Something nearly bordering on sanity." said Sasakibe said, offering Uhin his contract.

"Got any of them- whatsit- the big kicky bitches?" Danjiro asked.

"Cassowaries?" Uhin asked. "But of course! Delightful little creatures."

Yamamoto decided he didn't hear that, actually, and turned his attention to the final member of the dirty dozen.

"Hello young man!" the decrepit old man creaked cheerfully. "I am Saizo Sakahone." he was bald, liver-spotted, missing teeth and had a spine that bowed like a fishing rod with something much too large for the boat on the end of the line.

"Sakahone like the province?" asked Yamamoto, remembering the western area he'd traveled through recently.

"...In a manner of speaking, I suppose?" Saizo grinned. "Though it's rather the other way around- my lovely wife, may she rest in peace, managed to bear me no less than sixteen beautiful daughters, and they bore at least a dozen granddaughters and so on- Why, by my one thousand one hundred and eleventy-eth birthday, I had somewhere over fifty thousand descendants! So I am not so much named after the province, as the province is named after me!" he chucked.

"...by the Gods." marveled Sasakibe.

"Look, I love my sword too but at least I take it out of the scabbard sometimes." sighed Yamamoto. "What're you in for, family man?"

"O-ho! Now that was quite rash of me, I'm afraid. Yes-" Saizo nodded, rubbing his gnarled-oak hands. "-but as you say, I am a family man and there is nothing I despise so much as someone who does violence to children. No, no, nothing more vile in the world than that..."

Yamamoto felt Sasakibe go stiff beside him, and glanced over. Sasakibe tipped the file closer for his friend to read.

"-The total annihilation of the Uchimaki clan?" Yamamoto asked.

"I was born a shepherd, my boy. My people have been herding cattle over the hills of my province since there were cattle and hills to herd them over. When rot and madness like that turns up in a line- you need to cull backwards at least three generations or it'll set root and spread through your whole herd." he sighed. "What a shame, what a shame, but it had to be done, or they would have learned to turn a profit, treating children like that, and then we'd never be rid of it."

"I saw the crater. Half a mile deep and three times as wide." Said Yamamoto, mustache trembling. "I thought the wrath of the Gods themselves had descended upon them."

"Hm." Saizo nodded, jaw trembling a bit with palsy. "Hm, yes. That's what it felt like."

"Would you like to feel it again?" Yamamoto asked.

"No." Saizo shook his head, but slowly straightened up as much as he could- he must have been close to seven feet tall before the scoliosis set in- flexing his hands and rolling his neck, the power held withing that body starting to come off him in shimmering golden steam. "-but if that's what it takes for me to go home again, then I will be the tool of the Gods once more."

Yamamoto offered him the contract, and did not need to give him instructions.

Behind them, there was a quiet but extremely invasive wet noise and Yamamoto turned to see Unohana unsheath her... well, it lived in a scabbard but it was a muddy green and unusually gooey for a sword. Minazuki bubbled forth from her scabbard, trilling faintly as she solidified and formed into a mottled green cyclopean stingray, large enough to swallow a man, nuzzling at her human affectionately.

"Huh. She does seem to have an exceptionally intimate bond with her Zanpaktou..." Sasakibe noted, then flinched as Minazuki's mouth opened to reveal a fleshy interior of writhing tentacles and strange glands. Without hesitation, Unohana shed her prisoner's robe, which was apparently the and stepped inside to be swallowed with a sigh of relief.

"Very intimate!" grinned Chigiri at Sasakibe's shoulder. "My offer to stitch you up is still on the table, unless you want to develop a similarly intimate relationship with a fish."

"Never did care for seafood..." Sasakibe muttered.

"What about Tsubaki-san?" Furofushi frowned. "Where's her contract?"

"I came here for fighters." Yamamoto shook his head, turning to Tsubaki. "But you are right that The Maggot's Nest is a secure fortress in it's own right. The war is no place for a pri-"

He stopped, staring. Tsubaki had sat down and was rubbing her feet, fingers laced between her toes. She glanced up at him, then down at her feet, smirked, and sat back, wiggling her toes. "No, I agree, the front is no place for a Princess, but it is very much a place for a Diplomat, isn't it?" she asked.

Yamamoto blinked. "I have been thoroughly disinherited from any political position I may have inherited, so I am no princess." She explained, rolling her ankle with a smirk. "-and you are, if I may make an estimation based on my training as a Lady Of Society and now that all of our contracts are signed and bonded, terrible at negotiations."

Yamamoto shook himself, trying to pretend he hadn't been staring at her arches. "...I thought it went fine? Nobody lost a hand."

She smiled, and walked up beside him, lacing her arm with his and gently patting his hand. "My dear. If bookies had been allowed to lay bets on this encounter, the odds of me losing my head would have been considered a sure thing, and the odds on my being able to convince you to properly hire us and pay us, I agree, an 'obscene' amount of money so slim that anyone who took my side would now be a very rich idiot."

Yamamoto squinted at her, trying to translate that in his head.

"...You've conned me." He glared.

"Quite badly, I'm afraid." She smiled.

"You've conned me, but you can con say, that idiot that runs the Omeda clan or the obnoxious boy with the cock's comb that follows Yhwach around even worse." He tried.

Miss Tsubaki smiled, and laced her fingers with his.

"I'm going to have someone much smarter than me write up your contract." he nodded. "Sasakibe? Can you get us home in a-"

Yamamoto turned to see his friend, standing with his robe open while Chigiri knelt before him. Yamamoto blinked in bewilderment, and then realized the woman was stitching his wounds up at speed, her face close to his navel to focus on her work.

"...Hurry?" Yamamoto asked.

"Boss if I go any faster I'm gonna sew his bellybutton shut." Chirigi replied, not looking up.

"She is almost done, sir." Sasakibe winced. "Please don't interrupt her work?"

--- It took a good half hour to get everyone together to leave- clothes changed, signed out of the Maggot's nest and their custody turned over to Yamamoto, Nobotsuna trying to smuggle his "pet" Salamander out, several other prisoners saying tearful goodbyes to Tsubaki and her taking their information down 'for later', Minazuki trying to eat the salamander, and further mayhem while Sasakibe finished drawing the teleportation circle but soon they were lined up, and as the spell activated, Tsubaki gripped Yamamoto's arm rather firmly.

But in a flash, they were returned to Headquarters, Tsubaki blinking from the bright sun.

"General!" the soldier saluted. "Good to see you again! No news from the front, but we have received word the Shihon clan has made an alliance with the Fon clan as the advance approaches their homeland."

"HAH!" Shouted Chika. "Either cousin Genki pulled his head out of his ass or whatever cousin they're on now has good taste! Mingyan is a BABE and a half."

"Nice digs, very nice." Nodded Danjiro, looking around the courtyard. "...Looks really familiar for some reason. Never been to Seireitei, but I swear I've been in a building just like this?"

The other criminals looked around the courtyard, frowning and muttering about how it DID look familiar, and not at all like barracks.

There was a distressing hurgling sort of noise behind them and Minazuki spat out Yachiru Unohana, who tumbled out, nude and covered in slime. She rolled to the foot of the shrine, and sat up, blinking at the statue inside.

"Hey-" She called, voice still low and a rough but the hollow wetness had gone. "-Why's the military got a shrine to Yatagarasu?"

The others looked at the shrine and then around the building again. The orderly layout, the way the men were fit and professional but not precisely military, the extensive filing and sorting system visible through the open doors, Yamamoto's confession to Mail-tampering, the shrine to the Messenger of the Gods...

"You know, I did think it was rather strange that you were able to rally a small but apparently quite fast and very loyal army without the aid of any major clans." Tsubaki sighed. "How very industrious of you, Postmaster-General Yamamoto!"

[shiorilizzy]

My thought about yandere Wriothesley

My thought about yandere Wriothesley

I swear he has SO MUCH POTENTIAL!!

He may look like a gentleman, you can see him as a gentleman and he can even be a gentlemen

But be aware of how far he took to get revenge on his foster parents. He will do anything to get what he wants.

Well at least to you, he will be gentle and easy, not that brutal and bloody.

I have a feeling that Wriothesley will have eyes on good girls. You may be noisy or sassy, you may be silent and shy, but your eyes, your heart… They are so innocent… So pure… It’s utterly beautiful like crystal to him. The way you help others, the way you are not scared of his appearance.

He may notice you when you two are in the shop, both buying a big bag of tea, milk and sugar. He is surprised at that amount of tea and your shining aura.

His heart goes BANG when he sees you help a homeless boy, you defend him against those bad people.

You’re… kind… and brave. He loves your slight tremble, trying to act tough.

He is jealous of that boy. He is so lucky to have you protect him. Wriothesley wishes he had someone like you in the past, maybe his life would be a little sweeter.

Like a hunter set his eyes on the prey. He will find a way to approach you.

Even if you have a boyfriend or husband already, it doesn’t matter to him. Remember his material for talent upgrade? He need “Order”, not “Equity” (or Justice to me). And it’s right for you to become his lovely and only treasure.

Wriothesley is actually very human. He will not just snatch you into his place.

At least, he tried to be a normal boyfriend, a perfect lover to you. After all, he really wants an ordinary life like everyone else.

But later, things got ugly. He struggled so much to believe you or everyone, everything around you.

He suspected the man talked to you on the street that day. He thought your family, your friends were trying to separate you from him. He is scared that you’ll leave him someday, that he will lose something he treasured so much again.

That’s when he decided: You need to be placed somewhere he can watch, always.

Things got even worse if you wanted to break up with him. You’re done. There is a high chance that you will wake up with your leg broken, or cuff, depending on how bratty and cold-heart you were.

Well, he will bring you down with him no matter what.

If I have to describe Yandere Wriothesley in one word, I will say: manipulation.

I believe Wriothesley is hella good at manipulating. Do you see how he cornered Lyney till he lost control? This big shit will gaslight you to believe fish can walk.

He did say that he would feel bad if he kept a pet in the fortress because they could not see the sunlight. But he could train you to accommodate to the environment. That’s much easier.

He will act like he was not the one who kidnapped you but “just a little bit forceful invitation to live with him”.

He will be a gentleman, respect you, listen to you, even argue with you if you are too “fussy”, told you that you can be nicer to him.

Why he is doing those? Because he knows you’re a “good girl”

Sooner or later, your kind heart will make you doubt yourself that maybe you were too harsh on him.

Your innocent soul will soon feel guilty because every “hassle” you cause others to deal with.

Wriothesley, unlike most of yandere who just lock his darling in a room the whole day, he makes you busy all day, let you roam around the Fortress on your own. You’re his darling, his cute little pet, not his prisoner.

He needs to create a playground for you, so you don’t have time to be sad, angry, miss the upper world, or even think about escaping.

Luckily, he is the Duke, the Warden, and the fortress is out of Fontaine’s control. So technically, he is the King down here.

So darling, what do you want to do? Just name it and he will give you.

A baker? Prisoners will smile happily when receive your delicious food every day. A teacher? Those people will express how grateful they are to gain more knowledge thanks to you. An accountant or secretary? Wriothesley himself will gladly have you on his side, helping him with paperwork.

Even if you want to be a slut. You will be promoted from part-time slut to full-time slut. But only for him.

Whatever you want, name it and he will find a way.

See? Life is really good down here, right? You have a dream job, delicious food, pretty clothes, lovely people, and especially, a man who is loyal and loves you unconditionally. What could you ask more?

Slowly, even if you can escape, you will not do that because you’re having so much fun and peace in here.

After all, the Duke really wants to be loved, as much as he loves you. But being a skeptical person because of his trauma, he needs you to stay where he can watch you.

Sometimes, he will show you his weak side. That will kick your mother hen instinct, just like that day when you protect that weak boy.

Oh this sly wolf, he will do everything to get you.

But do not think you can get away with everything. You definitely don’t want to see him get mad ever again.

Let’s say, you escaped and got caught by him.

That man will let you sit and watch he torturing your partner in crime (of course you cannot do all the work yourself), let you hear their loud agony, see their body slammed hard on the ground.

The more you beg for them, the more torturing he will give them. Until you are trembling in fear and tears and whimpering.

Does the guiltiness eat you? That’s his intention. He just knows you too well.

That is just one of his tricks. He has plenty to use. After all, he lived for quite some time, and most of them were in the Fortress.

He usually hugs you in sleep. Don’t hesitate to put your head on his arm or sleep on his body. He LOVES those pressures.

I have a feeling he will hug you like a teddy bear. And when he needs to switch to the other side, he will just “move” you along with him.

Even when you guys are in a “bad term”, he will sleep and hug you no matter what. Wriothesley even snug his head in your neck, like a poor boy.

As if you WERE the one at fault!

Overall, Wriothesley will make your relationship become “normal” sooner or later. You will think that this is just a little “special”, a little extraordinary, a bit of spice in love that everyone has.

That staying here forever is normal

That his love is totally normal

That you love him

That you want to have a family with him.

Wriothesley is smart, he knows what he wants, and doesn’t really care about morals.

So it is impossible for you to escape since he set his eyes on you.

I would write about him in bed another day

[etoilesbienne]

q!etoiles is such a character to me because he's so loyal he's loyal to a fault he's the defender of the island but he didn't necessarily want to be the defender he just got saddled with the responsibility because he kept picking fights with the code like a scrappy guy looking for an adrenaline rush. someone just tossed him an impenetrable shield while they were at it.

but he's SO terrified of loss he cannot lose things, like its the grounds for his loyalty he doesn't want to lose a friend he's practical but he's a romantic at the same time in his own words can't a warrior's soul also be a lover's soul? where does the line start for one or the other? aren't those lines arbitrary? the only time i feel like ive seen qetoiles even vaguely described as anything similar to "hurt" (i cant even say angry he just seemed saddened in a way) was when he lost the election and almost went total isolationist. the loss matters to him he cannot accept an L for the life of him even admitting q!kameto is gone is admitting a loss in its own way

but his fear of loss and his friends of course he can't push badboyhalo too far to ask what he's really hiding he doesn't want to push him away he has to move goalposts of what he qualifies as important each day a little bit further inch by inch badboyhalo can be an exception, why wouldn't he be? he helped etoiles start his life on the island after all! etoiles knows how violent he is! etoiles knows bbh is doing something bad, and he knows bad is cagey and weird when confronted too far but will also refuse to answer, i mean "Be careful, Badboy, because if you kill everyone, then they will want to do bad things to you. And I don't want them to do bad things to you. I mean, I won't let them, but—" like ? even if you kill everyone, i won't let them do bad things to you? i don't want to hurt you badboyhalo but i will defend you? you'll defend the island but you'll defend your friend first? he just gives in so easily too like "badboy you can hide anything you want just promise you won't betray me" like he gives up ! he gives in. of course he does he doesn't want to lose his relationship to bbh. of course being told his trust was only 85% was a loss. of course it was.

where is the line crossed when do we go too far etoiles i'm dying to know what the breaking point is when your morality is whatever makes the most amount of people you care about currently near you happiest at a given moment