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initialchains · 1 year ago

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would you? | luke castellan.

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: luke slowly starts to lose himself but that won’t stop you from reminding him of what truly matters.

wc: 2.6k

warnings: some manipulating and gaslighting if you squint and probably spoilers for the first book but they’re not explicitly mentioned.

a/n: HAPPY HOLIDAYS !! here’s luke as a gift <33 i’ve never written for luke before but he’s my favorite pjo character bc hes such an interesting and complex character aghh. sorry if this isnt as fluffy as you would all want, i promise i’m working on some real luke fluff.

The rays of the rising sun made the lake look far more beautiful than it always does. Sure, you were used to the warm tones that always engulfed Camp Half-Blood and it’s not like the weather ever really changed, at least not unless the gods willed it to, but the colors of the sun reflecting on the lake, the low hum of the wood nymphs singing, and the distant sounds of laughter coming from campers playing volleyball were strangely comforting.

Well, as comforting as it can be when you’re trying to find some quiet in the neverending fight that was the demigod life. It gets tiring, it always does. The fighting, the studying, the adoration of gods who didn’t even bother to give their children a sign of them caring. It was all so exhausting.

But there was peace in this small moment. You were sat in front of the lake, your legs crossed as you closed your eyes, trying to enjoy the tranquility of it all. The calm moment didn’t dare to stop your hand from finding a home in the clay beads of your camp necklace and twirling them around, a seemingly normal act to anyone who saw you, that actually was a sign of you being aware of your surroundings, a small sign of the fear you carried around, a fear that had you always prepared to draw your sword in any given moment. Not ever fully in peace. Not unless Luke was there.

“So you decided to start your morning without me? Ouch,” You turned your head at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice, “A knock on my cabin’s door would’ve been enough, you know?”.

“Yeah? And risk waking the million campers that sleep in there? No, thank you. I would like to stay alive for a few more years, please.” You replied with a small smile, looking up to meet Luke’s eyes, his scar being more prominent in the morning, a red color adorning the edges of it.

He snorted a laugh and rolled his eyes before taking a seat next to you. He was silent for a moment until he muttered softly, “This is a nice view.”

“Oh, definitely. The lake always looks beautiful when the sun hits it the right way. I need to give the Apollo cabin their congratulations and some flowers for having a talented father.” You answered, your hand moving away from your necklace to hold Luke’s.

“Of course, you make my pick-up line about the gods. Can you give me a win over here? I’m trying my best.” He said with a smirk before pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. It was a strange sort of thing he always did, even before you two started dating, he’d always find an excuse to hold your hand and give it a quick kiss.

“I wasn’t going to let you get away with using a corny pick-up line on me, Castellan. At least be original with it.” A giggle escaped your lips, “Also, everything is about the gods, I thought you’d be used to it by this point.”

His face fell for a fleeting second, but he was quick to mask it with a small smile. “Right, everything always is about the gods.” Luke’s eyes moved away from your face, nervously glancing at the lake after his statement.

You frowned when you heard the tone he used, he sounded almost.. bitter? You couldn’t even explain it. Luke had been acting weird ever since the camp came back from their annual visit to Mount Olympus on the winter solstice. At first, you thought it had something to do with Hermes being a total dick and ignoring him the entire night, not even bothering to give his son a pat on the back or a nod. But you’ve known Luke long enough to know he was past caring about what his father did, he was indifferent to what Hermes did–to what any of the gods did.

The two of you were silent, sitting side by side in front of the lake in deep thought. He was thinking about gods know what, and you were busy trying to understand what was going on inside his mind. You decided to break the silence first, “You okay?”.

“I’m fine, baby. Don’t worry about it.”

He was quick to answer. It was almost as if he had rehearsed it and had it scripted beforehand. It was almost as if someone else had told him what to answer. As if he was under someone else's guidance. Under someone else's control.

“Are you sure? Because it feels like you’re.. I don't know, keeping something from me?”

“I’m not keeping anything from you. I’m not keeping a single thing.”

“Right. Sorry for asking.”

Luke closed his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. He ran a hand through his hair and took some deep breaths, his chest moving up and down in a nonexistent rhythm, it was urgent and angry. He took a few more breaths, trying to calm himself before finally meeting your eyes again.

“I’ve told you countless times to never apologize to me if you haven’t done anything wrong,” He reminded you of the conversation you’ve had millions of times, “Don’t ever apologize to me if you haven’t physically hurt me or something, alright? You’re fine. We’re fine.”

He continued, “I’d trust you with my life given the chance. I’m not keeping anything from you, angel. You have to trust me.”

“I do.”

You didn’t see your boyfriend at all the following days. He always brushed you off by being busy with training or helping Annabeth plan for this week’s capture the flag. You weren’t the only one to notice his slight change of temper and personality, some campers from the Hermes cabin noticed it too.

He kept pushing harder on his siblings, always insisting on them doing better. He was more violent than usual during capture the flag, not thinking about it twice before proving why he is the most talented swordsman in the last 300 years.

There was also this one time he volunteered to spar with a new camper.. it didn’t go well. He kept doing new maneuvers and techniques most campers didn’t even recognize, refusing to go easy on the poor thirteen year old girl. When you asked him about it, confused at the way he went too hard on the newbie, he answered with a dry “Where’s the glory in that? She needs to be prepared for what’s about to come.” It sounded as if he knew some kind of danger was approaching. As if it was a matter of life and death for the camper to learn how to fight against him.

You decided it was enough when you saw him skipping his daily chat with Annabeth, deciding he would rather sit by himself on the steps of the Big House for a little while.

The walk from your cabin to the Big House was filled with self-doubt and twirling the beads of your necklace, you were nervous to face your boyfriend, which was stupid because he was the last person you’d ever expect to feel nervous with. When you arrived to the steps of the Big House and saw him sitting there, your mind went completely blank.

You sat next to him and asked the first thing that came to your mind, “Would you rather fight 3000 ant-sized chimeras or a chimera-sized ant?”.

An amused laugh bubbled up from Luke’s chest before he turned his head to face you, a smile taking over his handsome face. “I’ll take the 3000 chimeras, no doubt.”

You smiled back at him, ready to ask him the question you spent the last thirty minutes planning, but before you could open your mouth he said, “Would you rather not be able to consume ambrosia and nectar for the rest of your life or.. see Mr. D without a shirt?”

You threw your head back with laughter, your face going red thanks to the lack of air in your lungs due to the laughs coming out of you, “I’d rather bleed to death without ambrosia than see Mr. D with a shirt.”

“Ditto.”

You decided to indulge in this back-and-forth game, after all, you hadn’t been able to have a real conversation with your boyfriend in days... you’ll take what you can get, “Would you rather not be able to leave camp ever again or turn against the gods?”

“It would be boring to spend the rest of my life capturing a flag and growing strawberries… so I guess my answer is pretty obvious.” He answered while fidgeting with his fingers.

“You’d choose to turn against the gods?”

“Yup.”

“Huh, I guess capture the flag would be pretty hard when you’re pushing 90.”

Luke was silent, running his eyes through your face before asking, “Would you?”

“Would I what?”

He took a deep breath before replying, “Turn against the gods.”

You were silent for a few seconds, biting your lip and staring into Luke’s eyes, wondering if there was a right answer to this metaphorical question. You decided to give him an answer he’d like but also an answer you meant, “I’d go wherever you go. It doesn’t matter if it is a farm in the middle of nowhere or to the pits of Tartarus. If you’re there... count me in.”

Luke cleared his throat and a serious look took over his face, “Sure, but if the time to make a choice came… would you go against them?”.

His persistence to try and get you to answer his question was making you nervous. The more he asked you about it, the more it looked like he was genuinely considering it.

A nervous laugh escaped your lips as you nervously played with one of the beads on your camp necklace. He took notice of it. Of course he did, he knew more about you than anyone, probably even more than you know yourself.

Luke stayed silent at that, a somber look taking over his features, you could tell there was a turmoil happening inside his head. It was almost as if he wanted to let you in on a secret, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“I... um. Well, I don’t think that’s happening anytime soon—at least not in our lifetime. But like I said, I’d go wherever you go, to Tartarus and back.”

That brought a smile to Luke’s face, he looked into your eyes, probably looking for signs of you lying but finding none, and took your hand away from your necklace, lacing your fingers with his and pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “To Tartarus and back, baby.”

He brought your hands down before leaning in to kiss you on the lips. There was a sense of necessity to feel your lips against his, he kissed you like the feeling of your lips was his only shot at salvation. He raised his hand to cup your cheek and deepen the kiss, craving the heat he only got whenever he kissed you.

You stopped him before he could take the kiss any further, “Luke, we’re in the middle of camp. There are children around us, if you want to make out at least take me to our spot behind the stables. Holy shit.”

Luke took a second to steady his breathing, “Sorry, angel. I’ll make sure to keep your suggestion in mind for later, though.”

“Shut the hell up, Castellan.”

The two of you spent the rest of your day being busy working on your own stuff. Luke was still sparring with some campers who were brave enough to go against him, and you were hanging out with the Dionysus cabin while they helped grow more strawberries.

You found Chris sitting in the amphitheater and asked him if he had seen your boyfriend, he replied with an annoyed, “He’s probably in bed or something, I don’t know.” You decided to not ask Chris if he was okay and walked straight to the Hermes cabin.

A knock on the wooden door was enough to wake your boyfriend up, you were aware of it when you heard a muffled, “Come in”. You found Luke sitting on his bed, his sword in hand while he sharpened it.

So he wasn’t asleep at all, you thought.

“Careful with the sharp part of the blade.” He looked up from his sword when he heard your melodic voice, your words snapping him out of the trance he was in.

“Oh, hi.” Luke put the sword down next to his bunk and moved to lie down, leaving a space next to him for you to join him. He hummed when you laid down next to him, giving a kiss to his shoulder blade and wrapping your arms around his torso.

He turned to face you, pressing his lips to your forehead with a soft sigh. His eyes closed at the sensation while his hands traveled to your back, looking for ways to hold you closer. His features relaxing when he finally touched your skin.

You couldn’t keep this weird tension going on between you two, so you decided to bite first, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Once again, he replied in an almost scripted and mechanical way, “Talk about what?”

“The winter solstice visit, you’ve been acting.. different ever since we came back to camp.”

Luke stiffened next to you, it made your heart drop. You’ve been dating him for a year now, and he had never been this cold—this uncomfortable around you.

“I just... I think things are about to change.” He replied in a low murmur, his eyes closing again when you brought your hand up to caress his face, softly tracing his scar with your thumb in a delicate and loving way. Luke let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding when he felt your fingers on his skin.

A smirk made its way to your face, “Change? yeah, in your dreams, Castellan. Campers will keep arriving and only 5 percent of them will get claimed, and the others will get thrown into your cabin.. like things always are and always will be. That’s not changing anytime soon.”

Luke’s hand traced up and down your back in a soothing manner, “Yeah, maybe they won’t. Forget I even said that.”

“Just because they won’t change, it doesn’t mean we have to accept it, you know?”Luke's eyes snapped up from your hands to meet your gaze, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“I’m sorry?”

“We’re all on the same team here. Sure, the gods will never claim most of the campers and we will all probably die before we’re old enough to have children of our own... but is that really all that matters? We have each other. We don’t need them as long as we have the people we love with us.”

Luke tilted his head to the right to press a kiss to the palm of your hand that was caressing his cheek, “I don’t need the gods as long as I have you.”

“Good to know we’re on the same page, Castellan.”

The two of you went out for a small walk by the lake and sat together in the dining pavilion at night. Your small conversation probably made Luke feel better because he was quick to go back to being himself, he kept greeting every camper he saw and holding your hand, not forgetting to kiss the back of it whenever he had the chance.

Maybe it was you reassuring him about the love you had for him or maybe it was him being aware of you being willing to drop the gods at any time just to be with him, but he was completely normal during the following days, weeks, and months.

You were sure of it when you saw him walking around with the new arrival five months later, Luke seemed so excited to be showing him around. You greeted the new camper with a small smile when he introduced himself with a “Hi, I’m Percy Jackson.”

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson #magnolia’s fics!

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delicrieux · 6 months ago

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…TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS ! ⋆｡°✩

⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ chapter summary. some things in life are unbearable, and in yours? they’re titled gojo satoru and trying to ruin you.

pairing. gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader

genre. enemies to lovers, ‘my bully is actually in love w me,’ comedy, light-hearted romance, aged up characters (in college), gojo being touchy bcs boundaries do not exist to my king

warnings for this chapter. gojo is being particularly troublesome

wc. 3k

author’s note: HOW ARE WE FEELING JJK NATION?!

ੈ✩‧₊˚

masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | twny masterlist | next >

CHAPTER 1: imagine minding your own business undisturbed omg

tokyo jujutsu tech is big. real, real big. but no matter where you go, he's there.

gojo satoru has made it his life's mission to relentlessly annoy you for no apparent reason. it was hate at first sight, or something equally despicable as that. for three years now, you’ve had to endure jeers raging from your sorcerer's ability to the size (or lack thereof, as you’re often reminded) of your ass. yes, that does count as harassment. no, gojo does not care.

you don’t know why he can't just leave you alone. he seems to delight in your anger and misery. they say you need to stand up to your bullies and give them a taste of their own medicine, but that does not work on gojo. the angrier – the better. he wants a reaction. he wants attention. he wants your despair served on a platter for him to lick clean and mouth, “delicious, thank you, more please.”

it's the silence and ignoring he can't take. it's like a personal insult. some deep rooted fear you hope he'll choke on.

gojo claims to hate you quite loudly. boisterously, even. wears his spite like a badge of honor, keeps it nice and clean pinned to the lapel of his uniform.

yet everywhere you go, he’s there – by your locker, outside your dorm room, on every mission you’re sent on, and always in the places you frequent. it's not exactly stalking, but it's like...gojo's way of being just as clingy without getting called out. you have called him a stalker. he laughed, pointed, and said, "what kinda idiot would even want to stalk someone like you?”

out the women's showers, you waddle to the common area. there's a vending machine, and you’d like a bubbly drink to refresh yourself. first, from the moist heat of the showers and then from the humid summer just outside the window. it’s peaceful, despite the temperature. the water still clings to your skin.

you just to locate and rejoice the last bottle of cola before you feel eyes on the back of your neck. of course. of course he's here, and you didn’t even hear him. of course.

"ugh," you groan aloud, fingers stalling against the cold buttons

"your ugliest pj's?" you startle from how loud he is, right next to your ear. too close. he’s always too close.

he makes sure to whistle long enough to make you squirm away. fuck him, he towers over you. can’t see his eyes underneath those super expensive designer glasses, but you know they keen for your reaction. once, to shoko, he said he bought them because they looked cool. unprompted, uninvited, unwanted, you chirped that they looked dumb as hell.

"whaddya got there?" his fingers press into your spine, and maybe he uncovered a new technique to turn you into stone. there is absolutely no personal space in this equation. he has none, and he has no concept of invading yours. with anyone else, maybe you wouldn't mind.

keep cool. you’re cool. stone-faced, unmovable. you don’t care if he’s trying to claw into your marrow with his neatly trimmed nails.

you hesitate for a single moment before you punch in the number. the machine whizzes and thunk, “fuck off, please,” you say, bending down to snatch your drink. he hums, sounding too satisfied for your comfort.

"you're gonna fuck yourself up on all that carbonation. never thought you could get any more hideous, but alas!"

you turn to him, and he has the good sense to move back a step to avoid the mouth that’ll insult him. there's a twitch to his brow, and an ease to his smile as he regards you leisurely. the latter is almost never a good thing. it means he's really enjoying this interaction.

if you shake your cola enough, maybe you’ll be super lucky and the spray will land on his face. now that's an idea. but even if you caught him off guard, his cursed technique would likely be in motion and the soda wouldn't touch him. how troublesome. a waste of a drink. you decides against it.

gojo leans on the vending machine. his own personal attempt cower her into submission. for what exactly? no one knows. maybe getou would have an idea, if he’s merciful enough to share. when you don’t say anything or flinch away like ijichi often does, he sighs heavily.

"aw, are ya still mad about last time? that was days ago. c'monnn, kami-”

"don't say my name."

"i forgot. kawakami-chan doesn't like me, right?"

you thought about switching schools. kyoto tech is also very good. you’d be at peace there. utahime hates gojo just as much as you do, and you have already bonded closely over this shared distain.

it's likely gojo would transfer after you. just to spite you.

"don't you have anything better to do than harass me?" you question.

the most infuriating thing about gojo, and about this situation, is that he’s happy. when you’re like this – huffing, shoulders taut, and frowning – he seems to be enjoying himself the most.

"don't pretend like you don't like it, kami-chan."

this asshole has a god complex. he seems to truly believe the earth would have ended up in a heap of smoldering ruin if not for him. to be fair, he's probably right, but still. you would first bite of your tongue than admit to that. you have considered a lobotomy to get the idea out of your head, but in the joke that is your life, gojo would likely be holding the orbitoclast.

you resent him so much you find yourself burning in his presence. it's like he took a personal class to master the art of pestering.

"doesn’t this ever get boring?"

he laughs, pressing a hand to his cheek as if embarrassed, "i never get bored of you, kami-chan. when are you coming back to the field? been too busy hanging out with losers to do some missions?"

"how pathetic must you be," you snark, "to be thinking of me when i'm not there to torment."

gojo ignores you and moves to tug at your top. the audacity has you reeling, and you attempt to smack his hand away only for it to be stopped at the last second, "yup," he inspects the quality of the fabric, his teeth flashing and making his already smug features look haughtier, "cheap.”

you open the can so forcefully the contents fizzle and spray on your hand. gojo grins so hard you expect his face to crack in half. if only.

"can i have some?”

"stop touching me," you hiss, trying to slap him away again, "why are you always touching me?"

gojo sidesteps. the dodge and dash he does, coupled with his agility, is incredible. had you not seen his many victories in battle, or spent any amount of time with him, you might be enamored. impressed, even.

perhaps that lobotomy is still an option.

"just," his arms dart out to pin you to the vending machine and you immediately aim a high kick to his thigh. but, of course, his infinity protects him. bastard. he doesn't let up though, and those hands slide along the expanse of your thighs until they meet your sides, leaving a warm trail, "makin' sure i can see all of these pores up close."

gojo, as disgusting as you often think he is, does always have a bit of honesty in his insults. you want to scream, maybe, because your pores are fine. great, even, you’ve invested into a new skincare routine, and it’s clearly working. it even works on shoko’s dark circles. he’s so full of shit, it's nauseating.

"fuck off," you shove his hands away and gojo lets you, surprisingly.

"really gross," he comments.

"you're the gross one. self-absorbed stalker."

gojo, an absolutely foul looking monster if you’ve ever met one, waggles a finger at you.

"careful, kami-chan," there's no trace of warning, only amusement, "we wouldn't wanna accidentally bump into each other too many more times."

his meaning isn't lost on you.

you hold up a finger, too. right in his face. pause. take a sip of your soda. there's no reason you should indulge this maniacal sadist in any capacity. gojo has an aura. an attitude. he comes off as unrelenting, and for all intents and purposes, he is unrelenting. in and out your life, an unshakable constant, with a lopsided grin and piercing eyes. you hate him.

you try to sidestep and flee to your room, but he blocks you. step. block. step. block. step block. stepblockstepblockstepblockstepblock-

"god! you're fucking infuriating," you explode.

you want to clock him, strangle him, castrate him, kick his head through the concrete. he's ruining a perfectly nice evening. what is it about you that he just loathes to see, so much so that it drives him to see you hurt all the time? is he truly so bad off? does he live a miserable and joyless existence?

"thanks," he looks genuinely honored, "but how'd you come to the conclusion, huh? after a little brainstorming session or-"

"what do you want?"

"lately?" gojo taps his chin, his tongue poking out, "seemed like you needed some space, so i just waited around here till you were done."

christ, he really is a stalker. you’re starting to worry he's like, actually insane.

"but now we can hang out!”

"i'm going to bed," you declare.

gojo ignores your announcement. gojo always ignores whatever you have to say.

"where we heading? your place or mine?"

"you are not going anywhere with me!"

he reaches out to flick your temple. it's so juvenile it takes you by surprise. your hands immediately fly up to protect yourself.

"huh," his face softens as if you’re this small, pathetic thing. not pity exactly, but definitely a worrisome expression, "look,” he snaps his fingers, “look. look,” he snaps them again and you will tear your hair out in 83 seconds if he doesn’t go away immediately, “we both gotta take a mission, right? might as well go together."

"go with suguru,"

gojo sighs dramatically and his whole upper body collapses, like he's pretending you kicked his shin. you reel back a bit from the proximity.

"mmm, but suguru’s so uptight lately," he comments. that’s good. getou suguru, ever the diligent one, was the first person in your sorcery class who made you feel welcomed. you quite like him, but the fact that his best friend is gojo implies there's something deeply wrong with him. you really don’t want to know what.

"go with shoko then," you state.

"shoko's just..." his arms jerk violently as if he's pretending to smash a plate, "not really on board with my mission types lately. says she can’t leave our only doctor since the patients are dying before they have a chance to enter the trauma room."

sad news for shoko, but your mind works quick.

"go alone," you smile, tilting your head to the side. the motion seems to catch his interest, "and don't come back."

gojo clicks his tongue, clearly peeved. victory. you relish this tiny bit of triumph. he starts to walk away and you watch him retreat, hopefully from your life, "i can't,"

"no way you've fallen so far."

"suguru told me to check in with someone before going on my own. it'll just make him and yaga-sensei super worried!"

"oh no," you chime, "i think you should go alone. and die."

he laughs, "come on," a pause, "it'll be fun! team-bonding and shit."

team-bonding and shit is you having a cola and reading a magazine. not fighting alongside the man who torments you like you’re some sort of pet: ‘kami-chan, do a split,' ‘kami-chan, do a roll,' ‘kami-chan, how big is your cup size again?'

the most effective way to hurt him is silence. you turn your eyes away and hum. this must be done delicately. if he catches even a whiff of your intention to flee, he’ll barge right after you. get you in a headlock and make you cry, because maybe he’s grown demented and will enjoy the sight of your tears.

with as much ease as your taunt muscles can muster, you casually pad in the direction of your room. he hasn't tried to tear down your door yet, but that's likely because the senseis would have to reprimand him.

gojo won't leave you be though, will he? as if it's a struggle to keep pace with you, he follows closely and peppers you with requests:

"come with me."

"shut up."

"we can grab dinner and-"

"you can shut up."

gojo sings, "team-building exercise, you're supposed to make a comrade's wishes come true, so come with-"

"i'll kill myself if force me to go with you. stop begging. it's so lame."

he laughs so loudly and unexpectedly that you jolt. this asshole thinks your threat is baseless. it isn’t. you’ll do it, or so god help you. you aren’t one to bitch out on anything, and maybe that’s why he’s so intent about this.

you wish he'd just give up, but it's highly unlikely. he's stubborn, and you aren’t enough to bend him.

"are you implying you'd kill yourself in front of me? for what? to mess with me?"

your face is very serious when you say, "yeah."

"shit, and you expect me to not want to see that? sorry babe, i'll have to tag along," he grins wickedly and you find yourself fighting down a spring at nausea at the sickly pet name. that’s a new development.

you move to stomp away, but he's right there to cage you to the wall. no, please, you’re at your limit. you might crumble into a heap on the floor and never rise again, even if he consistently poked at you for days.

"come," his glasses slide down his nose a bit and you’re met with gleaming, impossible, revoltingly beautiful blue eyes, "on," and he leans down. this close his infinity is gone, and you can feel the hard planes of his muscles, "a mission with me."

"kill me," you bite out.

you don’t like this, nor the rising fluster or the scent of his cologne. he always smells fresh, even in the summer months where sweat sticks like second skin. the cool wall against your back has your skin prickling. maybe this is a new advanced torture method. much more effective than waterboarding, which you would willingly take if that meant he’d let you go.

why must he be so tall? the sunlight bleeding from the windows douses his hair in a halo. it’s completely deceptive to how absolutely giddy he looks. your breathing picks up. what a nightmare. you’d attempt to knee him again if your limbs weren’t suddenly immobile.

he leans forward and murmurs, "is that an invitation for some freaky shit? cuz i like where we are now."

"gross!" you lean back as far as possible.

"i knowwww," he's undeterred by your snappiness, "seriously," he tries, "what else are you doing tonight, huh?" and you wonder why he's getting closer as your neck protests, "don’t tell me," there's a lilt to his voice you don’t trust, "you afraid you can't handle me?"

"is sexual harassment on your daily agenda?" you bite.

he moves away slightly, looking perplexed, as if you’ve given the world's toughest question. his posture becomes defensively slouched. a frown pushes his brows together and for once, the smooth talker has no quip or response.

you’re not one to look a gifted horse in the mouth and scramble.

"hey, hey, you didn’t answer!” he calls out, rushing after you, "hey! kami-chan, where'd your manners go? i need a clear answer."

damn pride. damn self-respect. you’re fleeing.

gojo doesn't let you get away that easy. your path to sanctuary is obstructed again as gojo halts you by plucking at your shoulder. you shake yourself off like a wet cat and bail. yes, you’ve resorted to running, but your room is just within reach.

"why are you running?!" his whine echoes down the empty hall, "answer the question!"

just a bit more and-

he catches up with you and hauls you up by the armpits, spinning, laughing. you squirm, and there goes your drink, your damned, tasty drink. all his antics have been on the short side, but he's never done this before: cradle you against himself, as if he was going to play catch with you.

"let go, creep!"

"creep?!" his voice is scandalized but still mirthful, "for all my gentlemanliness, huh?!"

he tosses you and you can barely right yourself with a solid landing. that's new too, the physical handling. why today of all days has he decided to pick your fights with his hands? does it make you less immune? why are you wondering? you should be running.

"and anyways, where'd your manners go huh, huh, hu-uh? no thank you when a nice gentlemanly guy takes the time of his day, the greatest guy, the-"

you might go insane. actually snap and go coo coo coconuts. kill everyone. this might be the beginning of your villain origin story. your personal vendetta to kill gojo satoru.

"seriously?!" he yells, and you open your eyes (you don’t remember closing them. it's probably a last resort sort of deal. if you can't see gojo, gojo isn’t real), and gojo's much, much, closer.

"would you mind-" you hiss.

"really," he chides, not an ounce of his good humor on his face, and you’re unable to tell if he's taunting or sincere, "all those classes you went to when you were little, and you still can't pay attention to the first thing a good guy says? do i have to spell out your obligations for you?!"

"would you kindly go fuck yourself and allow me to exist in peace?!" you shriek.

a door down the hall opens, and someone, maybe a fellow student or maybe a teacher or maybe someone unrelated all together, pops their head out the crack of their bedroom. you see this in slow-motion, watch a silhouette tilt their head and stare. it's so stupid it could be considered a scene from a comedy.

"would you two keep it the hell down already!?" your would-be-rescuer screams.

gojo glances to the side, unbothered but maybe curious. you run. before gojo can pick up his wits, you slam the door to your room open, lock it, and even fumble a deadbolt for added assurance. your room is dark save for a nightlight plugged into the corner.

your legs are shaking. you feel like throwing up. you’ve never been so terrified in your entire life.

the news reaches you via a text from shoko a good few hours later. gojo goes on the mission alone.

'please die please die please die please die,' you pray.

he returns an hour later, unharmed and cheery.

704 notes · View notes

staryuee · 1 year ago

Text

LOVE TRIAL!

GUILTY AREN’T I? OF ALL MY LOVE CRIMES…

— [warnings]. [mentions of drinking (venti)]

— synopsis . . . [char] has decided to come clean and acknowledge all the facts necessary for conviction. the conviction? they’re in love with you.

(more simply, them just being hopeless losers that are in love with you hcs ๑>◡<๑)

— characters . . . venti, zhongli, tartaglia, wanderer, lyney, neuvillette, wriothesley, navia, clorinde, arlecchino

— notes . . . i can't go on the genshin x reader tag anymore bc of the amount of smut on it, i’m so loved starved rn…*sighs dramatically* i added venti & zhongli purely bc i love them (plus they’d also be on trial for war reasons so hehe)

VENTI — 温迪

love is quite similar to the wind in a way. comes quickly, randomly, it can hit you hard, it can be gentle and peaceful yet it can also be irritating and noisy.

currently, venti was feeling all the negatives: drunk, irritated, and his heartbeat drowning out any exterior noises to the degree he didn’t even hear your recognisable footsteps entering angel’s share. normally, he’d instantly perk up at the mere glimpse of you, but he just couldn’t bring himself to even bother raising his head up from his arms anymore.

“venti? someone asked me to come check up on you…you alright? (o*｡_｡)o” you gently touched his back in comfort which just made his heart swell.

“mfh…i’m—hic—okay (ﾟヘﾟ)?” he responds nonchalantly.

“yeah, you sound very self-assured don’t you...come here then.”

“drink with me… (♡´𓋰`♡)”

“nope, i’m getting you far away from angel’s share, this is bad, even for you.” you speak to him so softly it almost makes him sleepy as you attempt to lift him up. venti wrapped his arms around your neck in response, pouting at you with a hazy and dizzy look.

his hand travels to your cheek, delicately caressing it with weird concentration. he leans into what seems like a kiss before pausing and resting his forehead onto your shoulder instead. he whispers in a delicate and dreamy tone, “i love you… too much.”

ZHONGLI — 钟离

zhongli fiddled with the brooch you gifted him while out on a stroll the other day with a complaisant smile, humming a tune to himself that he specifically remembered you sung. it was such a lovely melody, something so serene and gentle it was almost like the feeling of sunlight on your skin. or perhaps that was only the case because you sung it?

he’s an ancient being with countless of prior lifetimes and ones ahead; he’s no lovesick fool, but he couldn’t deny that the giddy feeling in his churning stomach, and the swirling of his heart is a rather enticing experience, one which he cannot tire from.

his mind traced back to the short hangout you had earlier today; nothing unusual, just a walk around liyue harbour with his hand inching closer to yours, breath hitching at the minute contact before he retracted his hand to awkwardly play with his rings. oh, and that angelic smile that he loved so much…

zhongli traced his bottom lip, imagining it as your own as a silly smile graced his face at his delusion. would you lean into his touch? move away? be startled, confused, or even worried? would you look away? or…

ahh…perhaps, he’s a little head over heels for you, alright?

TARTAGLIA — 公子

“tartaglia, please. this is seriously too much!!” he crumpled another letter with that specific and significant order and threw it skillfully over into the bin. there’s no such thing as “too much” when it comes to showering someone with gifts, ESPECIALLY during important holidays and events! at least that’s what tartaglia’s delusional lovesick mind has led him to wholeheartedly believe.

he gazes over at the countless trinkets you’ve given him over the course of your adventures and vacations; i mean if you can do it, why can’t he? little does he realise that “trinkets” is much more acceptable than “gifts that pile up to your ceiling at the end of each week”.

it makes sense for you to want to spoil someone any way you can if you love them.

…love them?? did he love you? i mean, he accepts your affection like it’s a natural instinct, sends you letters and gifts biweekly, his entire family knows you, and whenever you exchange gifts during holidays he purposefully skims his fingers over yours.

but that’s all just friendly gestures…okay listen he may have believed santa clause (or the teyvat equivalent…?) was real for several years because of pulcinella but he’s not THAT horrifically oblivious (grits teeth). he absolutely adores you, and the letters he has stashed away, that could practically count as love confessions due to how descriptive they are of your character, are solid evidence.

WANDERER — 流浪者

your mind has three defense mechanisms against impactful events: repression, denial and displacement. all of which were prevalent with the wanderer.

he pushed the conscious memories of abandonment into his unconscious, he ignored the reality of his feelings for you to avoid any form of attachment, and proceeded to take out his anger onto you because of the way you made him feel.

he’s convinced himself he hates you.

hate, within the context of a romantic relationship, arises mainly from a relational betrayal. betrayal trauma can feel an awful lot like the dull and lingering pain after a swift punch to the gut. the person who hurt you isn't a stranger, yet when they leave, it certainly feels like you never knew them at all.

that’s precisely why he can’t fall for you…but he does so anyway; because how was he meant to override the childish fluttering in his prototype heart whenever you gently brushed your shoulders together when walking, or when your eyes met and you instantly smiled at him so stupidly?

and well, he isn’t really doing a good job of pretending he hates you when he lets you touch him so freely, or when he seeks your simple affections out without shame…

☆ ITTY BITTY SPOILERS ☆ for both fontaine archon quests 🐳

LYNEY — 林尼

lyney rubbed his weary eyes as the light began to settle into his view. while initially blurry, after blinking a few times, lyney realised exactly where he was; the opera epiclese. yet he’s not standing where he and his twin would be if they were preforming a magic show, rather, he was standing directly where an accused perpetrator would.

despite how hazy he felt, that tinge of anxiety managed to bubble into his stomach to ironically stabilise him. the stomping sound of a cane reverberated through the room which fixed his attention to the iudex. “order.” his voice caused lyney to grimace whatever words he’d utter next. why was he reliving this moment?

“mister lyney, i hereby declare you as guilty in this love trial.”

lyney couldn’t help but blink and tilt his head in confusion…what kind of trial? was that some sort of code? 【・_・?】

“with no further objections, the oratrice shall now deliver its final verdict.” however, before he could hear the motions of the machine in action, he awoke: sweaty, confused, and face flushed a brilliant red hue. lyney glanced over at his bedside table, his cheeks tinting even redder at the sight of a rose that he gained from your fine hands.

maybe that dream was trying to tell him something…(｡•́︿•̀｡)

NEUVILLETTE — 那维莱特

recently, the skies of fontaine have been ever so clear. every blemish of grey spotted clouds disarrayed into a flurry of white, the sun blazing out and making it the most perfect atmosphere for a pleasant summer. though…this was the middle of october, so this particular weather puzzled the fontaine citizens, albeit with little complaint.

neuvillette sat in his office with a gentle and subtle smile expressed his soft features, although he maintained that ‘air’ of professionalism as he went over a recent investigation, he subconsciously grazed his fingertips over a letter with your name on it.

to neuvillette, love is a lot like a trial (or perhaps that’s the only analogy he can conjure up to comprehend his deepening feelings for you). you put yourself out there, presenting your best case for why you deserve to be loved, just as a lawyer presents their case for why their client is innocent. it involves the same sense of vulnerability, uncertainty, and even risk: you don't know how the outcome will turn out, and you have to have faith in the process and trust in the person who is judging (or loving) you.

his judgement about you, however, doesn’t need much thought or even a confirmation of the verdict with the oratrice. he’s in love with you, devoted, if you will. and perhaps, if you’re willing, he’d be happy to make a whole argumentative case on why you deserve him.

WRIOTHESLEY — 莱欧斯利

he’s very tempted to make a case against you.

you’ve committed the most heinous crime known to teyvat, one which no person has had the courage to fulfil:

stealing his heart.

how long would he have you down in the fortress for to pay for your crimes? glad you asked, because he’s made an entire mental plan for whenever you visit him in the fortress of meropide (for whatever reason…let’s just hope it’s nothing TOO bad ahaha…. ._.)

your sentence would depend on how long it takes for you to fall for him too. god he’s never realised how much of an absolute loser he can be when enamoured it actually makes him angry. if you could see the way he low-key giggles and plays with his hair at even the slightest glimpse of you, he’s assured your sentence would be several years instead of his hopeful couple months (unless you’re already in love with him then…hey.)

i’m pretty certain if he could, he’d send you a letter that says “haha, what if we kissed? just kidding! unless…”

yeah, he’s THAT level of loser for you. (*´∀｀*)

NAVIA — 娜维娅

valentine’s day has become her favourite holiday! not for any “particular” reason…certainly not because she can use the day to “platonically” spoil you with food and subtle affection whenever she pleases.

“happy valentine’s day! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡” navia smiles at you and bows, presenting you a pink bag glittered in hearts, a cute bow on of one of the handles. you smiled in response and took the bag from her gently. merely catching a sneaky peek into it you could see several little plastic bags filled with goodies and sweets, ones you assumed where baked by her fine hands.

“thank you, navia! honestly, i look forward to this every year~ (∩❛ڡ❛∩)” you laugh as you unwrap one of the brownies in the bag and begin chewing on it with a complaisant and satisfied expression. your sweet and genuine look made her heart clench in her chest, she coughs into her hand awkwardly and looks away from your lips.

“uhum, i’m glad! anyways i’ve got uhh…something to do…(｡>\\<)” she replied hastily, clutching at her chest dramatically as she left, leaving you rather confused: you continued to eat her pastries regardless of the sudden change in atmosphere, because i mean who doesn’t like free shit made specifically for you?

navia’s mind and heart felt so fuzzy as she checked her complexion in her pocket sized mirror, padding at her face with powder to futilely hide her immense blush. putting away her mirror, she flipped over her hat to reveal a matching pink letter with cursive writing on it. “sorry lyney your plan was cute and all…but i seriously can’t do this today…”

CLORINDE — 克洛琳德

harbouring her position as the best champion duelist means there’s plenty of people (people who desire death at the hands of a pretty woman.) who wish to duel or spar against her purely to see her skills personally. yet, so far there’s been no one who’s stepped up to that challenge (we can ignore tartaglia for now.)

until you, that is. you have no reason to ask to spar with her, and while she has little reason to refuse you, she does reject your requests each time. however, clorinde has learnt over time that refusing your cute face and sweet smile leaves a little bit of her hollow, so alas, one day when she had a free schedule — she accepted a spar session.

thank the hydro archon that she did because holy shit. clorinde never thought she had a type, perhaps just someone who’s the opposite of her to balance her out, but now she definitely knows you qualify. the way the sweat drips down your arms and neck, your expression fixed yet amused and the subtle vein forming on your hand as you grip your weapon…shit she’s not paying attention.

as you strike a blow that leaves her tumbling backwards onto the floor, a cheeky grin adorns your face that makes her heart skip like pebbles on a flowing river. you can boast about your win against the champion duelist for all of teyvat to hear, all she cares about is seeing that side of you again…please.

ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺

ah well shit.

this isn’t going to exactly work now, will it? technically, falling in love with a subordinate isn’t against some sort of law or code, but a harbinger being bewitched is a different story.

arlecchino leaned against her desk with her hands resting behind her. an icy shiver ran down your spine as her eyes were practically piercing through you. did you mess up on a report or something…? was this the end…(,,>ࡇ<,,)? you’ve always thought you kept a pretty good and quite close relationship with the knave, but perhaps that was your downfall?

it’s not easy to ignore the deafening sound of her heartbeat, that alone made it even more difficult to concentrate when you’re just an arms reach away from her in her private study, with no one to bother you two. it’s futile to ignore the fluttering of your heart, therefore, arlecchino decides to saunter over to you with a poker face, something which only made you want to die on the spot.

she leaned over on your desk with her hands right on the edge, you instinctively peel your head upwards to question her with a meek voice, “is uhm, something wrong, knave?” you begged she didn’t notice the slight quiver in your voice.

“i believe,” she averts her gaze before staring directly at you with a much more softened expression, “i’ve fallen in love with you.”

I KNEW IT INSTANTLY, YOU’RE ALSO GUILTY…

©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost <3

#AAAAAAAAH this makes no sense but i need to push SOMETHIN’ out….#genshin x reader #genshin x gnreader #genshin x you #wriothesley x reader #neuvillette x reader #navia x reader #clorinde x reader #arlecchino x reader #lyney x reader #wanderer x reader #scara x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #zhongli x reader #venti x reader #gi x reader

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merlucide · 9 months ago

Note

PLEASEEEEE CAN YOU WRITE HEADCANONS WITH RIN, KAISER, SAE, OTOYA AND REO AND A SHYREADER WHOS SHY AROUND PEOPLE SHE DOESNT KNOW BUT CRAZZYYYY AROUND PEOPLE SHE DOES KNOW PLSSSSS

BLLK BOYS WITH A SHY BUT CRAZY S/O

Notes: OFC WIFEY. Also… this scenario, seems, a bit self insert don’t you think…. 👀 ALSO LMAO I MADE READER UNHINGED?? SO- SORRY LMAO?

characters: Rin, Sae, Kaiser, Otoya, Reo

wc: about 300ish each

warnings: nb reader, cursing, randomness + cringe lmao😭

ITOSHI RIN

Well tbh, y’all probably had to have been friends for a loooong time for him to ever considering dating you 😭😭

So Rin had a good understanding of your personality, as you had known each other pretty much since the beginning of time.

He never understood how your personality went from 0 to 1000 whenever you two are alone.

He prob thinks ur on drugs tbh

He’ll be your voice for you if you can’t seem to communicate with strangers, though he might not be the friendliest no shit.

he thinks it’s dumb that you’re shy tbh

He’s small minded about these things okay 😭

He never ever will get used to your bursts of crazy energy.

he swears he’ll turn around and you’ll have a horse mask on with a tutu around your waist

ITOSHI SAE

lmao you give him terrible whiplash.

He too, also thinks you’re on drugs.

You and Sae would like be at the airport on the way to Japan, his manager would be going over the details and precautions for going to Japan (yk fans and press or whatever etc etc).

His manager looked over to you and asked if you were alright, since you literally hadn’t spoken a word since he introduced himself a two hours ago.

You nodded and followed Sae and his manager onto the private jet(cus he’s rich-rich😌🤭)

Once y’all were settled, his manager closed you and Sae’s cabin door.

Sae looked over to see if you were alright, since traveling and yadda yadda can be overwhelming.

You were fucking giggling like an underwater hyena (that’s a thing I bc I fucking said so bitch).

You grabbed his hands and pulled back and forth giggling about how stoked you were rn.

LMAO HE WAS TOTALLY LOOKING AT U LIKE THIS

KAISER MICHEAL

lmao he was disturbed at first 💀

like “wtf happens to my shy, sweet, s/o??”

He’ll like be getting a glass of water at night and in the corner of his eye, you hold a flashlight at your face with a blanket wrapped around you. Staring into his soul, inches behind singing.

“hello darkness my old frienddd~”

He just blinked at you for a while.

“Y/N what the fuck is wrong with you.”

ANYWHOOO!

He thinks it’s funny af though

Like how nervous you get around his teammates and then when y’all are home you start cartwheeling.

You sure keep his life ✨spontaneous✨

OTOYA EITA

LMAO A MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN

YOUR RANDOM AF.

HES RANDOM AF.

= SOULMATES

he thinks it’s so cute how shy you are

He loves that bc ur shy around strangers you cling/stay close to him. He feels so sigma male bc he’s ’protecting’ you🐺🐺🔊🔊🗣️🗣️😏😏

Someone humble him please.

LMAO HE’LL GO LIKE:

“Babe watch this😏” and ninja pose really fast LIKE A LITTLE KID DABBING

And you’ll be like:

“Nah watch this😌” *does the worm*

Y’all T-pose at pidgend together 💕 #couplegoals

MIKAGE REO

LMAO HE’LL BE DAYDREAMING AND LIKE-

“My dearest Y/N! Oh they’re such an angel! They’re so pretty and kind and perfect! And amazing- is that them in a dinosaur inflatable doing the WAP in 6 inch heels?”

lmao kinda how it goes

He never really gets used to the switch up.

It makes him so happy that you feel comfortable to be yourself around him, even if that means painting yourself pink and putting googly-eyes on while blasting the Peppa Pig intro💗

He loves hearing people talk about you too.

“Oh y/n is really shy, but they’re nice I guess?” Like hah okay..

Pretty sure they weren’t crab walking in a tuxedo with a kazoo in their mouth playing Sinfonia N°9 Coral in D Minor, Op. 125: 1. Allegro ma non troppo, un poco maestoso by Beethoven 🙄🙄

LMAO I HAD NO IDEA WERE I WAS GOING WITH THIS. I WAS LIKE “wtf am I gonna do😦”

made April 21st 2024

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hannyoontify · 3 months ago

Text

casual - yoon jeonghan

member | childhood best friend!jeonghan x fem!oc

genre | fluff, angst and angst and lots of angst, childhood best friends to ???

word count | 12k

synopsis | throughout her childhood, jeonghan was the one constant in jeong-ah's life. he was her rock and she was his. but there was always an unspoken tension between the two, something that made jeong-ah's stomach flutter and her pulse race. was it casual, like jeonghan said? or was there a possibility of it being something more?

warnings | kissing, a bit of cursing, oc is insecure abt her freckles, jeonghan and oc are both lowk products of the ultimate asian immigrant ‘tiger-mom’ parenting stereotype, jeonghan smokes half a cigarette

playlist | i also ended up making a playlist for this fic too bc i was so into it so here!

notes | inspired by this post from a while back AND I KNOW. PEOPLE HATE OC’S BUT PLEASE. js hear me out for this one. pls. also a huge huge hugeeeeee thank you to the literal freaking best @fairyhaos for beta-ing this long ass fic. you’re seriously the best ilysm!! and last but not least, happy birthday jeonghan!! thank you for always bringing a smile to our faces and gracing us with your love and presence.

Was it casual when you called my biggest insecurity beautiful stars?

“Shhh,” Jeonghan pressed his finger against his lips, stopping me from reading my paragraph aloud. “I think we won. Everyone else fell asleep.”

I looked up from The Last Olympian, the latest book of the Percy Jackson series that we were reading together, to see what he was talking about. All of our younger siblings were asleep in a messy pile of tangled blankets, pillows, and limbs on the floor next to the bed Jeonghan and I were currently lying in.

“We win the bet every year. Should we make them do the dishes this year?” I whispered. Jeonghan opened his mouth to say something when we both heard footsteps in the hallway outside. We frantically scrambled for the blanket and hurriedly tugged it over our heads, just in time as a parent opened the door to Jeonghan’s bedroom.

“They’re asleep.”

“As they should be,” another voice chimed in. “They’re still kids, pulling an all-nighter isn’t good for them.”

I couldn’t hear the first parent’s response as they closed the door and retreated back downstairs. Jeonghan poked me in the rib to grab my attention and once I was looking at him, he wiggled his brows, which I immediately took as a bad sign. He reached behind and pulled out a flashlight, shining it directly into my eyes.

I suppressed a yell and raised my arm to smack him. “Don’t-” Smack. “Do that.” Slap.

Jeonghan laughed and grabbed the side of his arm where I had hit him, jutting his bottom lip out into a faux pout. “I’m sorry, Jeong-ah. Will you forgive me?”

“No.”

“Even if I let you read the rest of this chapter?”

I paused to think about it. “... Okay, fine.”

With that, I grabbed the novel and flipped through until I found the page we last left off on. Jeonghan dimmed the flashlight to its lowest setting and aimed it towards the book as I began to read aloud in a quiet voice about Percy taking a swim in the River Styx.

We were lying on our stomachs with Jeonghan’s blanket over our heads as we delved further and further into the realm of Greek gods and goddesses. Every once in a while, one of us would shift and move around to try and get in a comfortable position. Eventually, we found a position we were comfortable with–our legs on top of one another and Jeonghan’s head resting on my forearm as I read aloud.

Thank God the chapter I was reading was a longer chapter. I didn’t like it when Jeonghan read out loud–not necessarily because he was bad, he really was good and read at a good pace–but because he liked to do this thing where he had these ridiculous voices set for all the different characters and he would overdramatize everything. I didn’t know how he remembered which voice belonged to which character, but it was funny and it never failed to make me laugh(or lose concentration).

Eventually, I had to shake Jeonghan off my arm because I was slowly starting to lose feeling in my hand. “Hannie, your big, fat head is about to get my right hand amputated.”

“Ouch, that was a bit too harsh, don’t you think?” Despite acting offended, Jeonghan immediately lifted his head off of my arm, which I appreciated, and lay back down on a pillow right next to my arm.

“Sorry, but the truth hurts.” I smiled and got back to reading.

Jeonghan kept his eyes trained on my face as I continued to read about how Percy was barely able to survive an attack from Ethan Nakamura, at the cost of Annabeth’s well-being. Jeonghan’s tendency to stare at me wasn’t new, and at this point, I was pretty used to it. Most often than not, he wasn’t even staring–he was just spacing out, thinking about something I’d never be able to comprehend, like quantum physics or something.

Once I reached the end of the chapter, I looked over at Jeonghan, who was now fixated on the back of my hand. “Hannie, did you even hear anything I just read?”

“Uh-huh. River Styx. Curse of Achilles. Morpheus and Hecate. Ethan Nakamura.” Jeonghan responded in a soft voice.

“Are you-”

“Jeong-ah, I’m too tired to read. Can we just lie here?”

“... Okay.” I put the book down and shifted onto my back but Jeonghan stayed on his side, facing me.

I peeked outside the blanket. It was nearly midnight and the night sky was so clear I could nearly see every crater on the moon’s surface. A navy to black gradient night sky was the perfect backdrop for the full moon tonight. The bright, yellow glow from the moon provided enough light in the room for me to recognize all the silhouettes on the floor. I heard a small snore from the pile and smiled.

Retreating back under the blanket, I discreetly snuggled into Jeonghan’s side. Our only source of light was the flashlight, which was shining above our heads.

Jeonghan reached for my hand and I let him as he began lightly tracing indiscernible patterns onto the back of my hand. This went on for a while until I couldn’t ignore the tingling sensation anymore and I giggled at the feeling.

“Hannie, it tickles. What are you doing?”

“You have freckles?”

Oh, he was talking about the tiny freckles I had on the back of my hands. They had been there for as long as I could remember and it had always been an insecurity of mine. I remembered, when I was younger, my dad used to gently hit the back of my hands every night as a way of getting rid of those “damned” freckles. I hated it.

Because of society’s beauty standards, I learned to be ashamed of my freckles as I grew older. The longer I had my freckles, the more I grew to hate them. My mother always told me that it was because I didn’t apply enough sunscreen before going out and I was thankful for the wintertime because my freckles were less visible in the sun than they were in the summer and I learned to hide them from the sun as much as possible.

So I was surprised that Jeonghan had even noticed the freckles in the first place, especially because it was December and my skin hadn’t seen the light of the sun for a couple of days now, thanks to the rainy weather.

“Um, yeah. I’ve had them since I was young,” I pulled my hand away and stuck it behind my back. “Ignore it, they won’t disappear no matter what I try.”

“No, Jeong-ah, they’re beautiful.”

“What?”

“They’re beautiful.”

“No, they’re not.”

“Yes, they are.”

“Why?”

Jeonghan laughed in what seemed to be frustration. “Jeong-ah, those freckles signify you. Your experiences and your growth, why are you embarrassed of them?”

“I don’t know. I was always told they were ugly and something to be ashamed of.”

“Jeong-ah, this just might be my most favorite part of you.”

“Really? Not my hilarious, sexy, bodacious humor?”

“What the fuck does bodacious mean? Regardless, yes.”

“But they’re like… little moles?”

“So? I have moles.”

“But it’s like a whole bunch of them in the same area and it’s gross.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Then what is it?”

Jeonghan grabbed my hands and stared at the tens of freckles that were distributed along the backs of my hands. I hated them.

“They’re… beautiful, glowing, tiny stars.”

“... What?”

“Beautiful, glowing, tiny stars sprinkled across a wide expanse of a night sky that is you.”

A pause.

“Are you sure you’re a sixth grader because that was deeply poetic, Hannie.”

“You make me a poet.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry, was that weird?”

Not at all, I thought to myself. My heart had begun to beat erratically and I was pretty sure I knew why.

“No… I like it.”

“Good. But-” Jeonghan suddenly let go of my hands so he could reach above his head and stretch. “I’m getting tired, JeongJeong. Let’s go to sleep.”

“Okay. Good night, Jeonghan.”

“Good night, Jeong-ah.”

That night, I fell asleep with my head pressed against Jeonghan’s side as his fingers gently ran across the skin on the back of my hands, over my new favorite part of me, soothing me into deep slumber with a familiar warm and tingly feeling in my heart and stomach.

Was it casual if I still think of you when I see lemons?

“Hi, Mrs. Yoon! It’s so good to see you!” I greeted Jeonghan’s mother with a tight hug and a grin.

She hugged me back and smoothed her hand through my hair with a sweet smile. “How are you, sweetheart?”

“I’m doing great!”

“No boyfriend yet?” she asked jokingly. I chuckled along with her and Jeonghan rolled his eyes.

“Mom, don’t bother her with questions like that. C’mon, Jeong-ah, let’s go to my room.”

As we retreated further into the house, Mrs. Yoon yelled from the kitchen, “Make sure to give her a tour of the house!”

The Yoon family had moved again recently, so it was only natural for Jeonghan to give me a quick house tour. Passing by the living room, I noticed that our younger siblings had already situated themselves by the coffee table with their dolls and toys. I smiled at the sight.

The last part of the tour was his room. It looked eerily similar to his old room but at the same time, it was completely different.

“Woah, your room is so big.”

Jeonghan sprawled out against his bed. “Yeah, it’s great. Especially since I don’t have to share rooms with my older brother now,” He looked around his room with a proud look on his face. “I have a basic layout down, but I still want to move around some things and decorate.”

I jumped into his bed, joining him on his comforter. “Ooh, with what?”

“You know, pictures and posters of basketball and football.”

I hummed. “You better have a picture of us together.”

“How could I forget?” Jeonghan rolled his eyes at me sarcastically and I laughed. “But I already have a Packers poster-”

I threw my wadded up ball of socks I had just taken off at him. “I’m telling you, Raiders are better.”

“Ew, get your nasty socks and opinions away from me.” Jeonghan threw my socks back at me with a disgusted look and I laughed. “I know it’s your opinion, but your opinion is just plain wrong in this situation.”

“Whatever, Hannie. You know I’m right.” I stuck my tongue out at him and looked up at his ceiling.

His new ceiling didn’t have the glow-in-the-dark stars he had in his old room and I frowned. “Hannie, you don’t have your stars anymore.”

He looked at me, confused. “What stars?”

“Our stars. The glow-in-the-dark ones we put up at your old house?”

Jeonghan rubbed his hand along the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah… I just thought they were getting a bit childish for me now.”

My frown deepened. “Childish? What do you mean, childish?”

“I mean, we’re eighth graders now, Jeong-ah. We’re gonna be high schoolers soon and I think glow-in-the-dark stars might be a bit too childish for a high schooler.”

My face fell. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry, JeongJeong.”

I tried my best to smile and brighten up. “It’s okay, Hannie. It’s personal preference. It’s your room, not mine.”

“Thanks. Well, do you wanna get started on math?”

“Okay! You better be a good teacher.”

Jeonghan laughed as I climbed off his bed. “No promises, JeongJeong.”

For the next hour and a half, Jeonghan and I sat on the floor of his new bedroom, solving algebra equations. He was sitting across from me, and I stared at him whenever I thought he wasn’t looking. I don’t know when it happened, but something about him had changed.

His shoulders seemed more broad and his facial features had somehow sharpened. We always knew that Jeonghan had attractive facial features, but when he was younger, he was much softer and adorable. In the past few weeks I’d seen him, he seemed more adult-like. Was this what puberty did to a person?

Sure, I already knew about the effects puberty had—I wasn’t exactly a late bloomer myself. But to see Jeonghan, my best friend who used to get bathed in the same sink as me before either of us could talk, having a taller, lankier build made me feel something in my stomach.

The fact that I had a crush on Jeonghan for a while now was no big secret either. All of my friends at school knew about it (thank God he went to a different school), and even my sisters and his younger sister knew too. Just a couple weeks ago, I confided in his sister about my not-so-little crush on her older brother.

Initially, Sua was a bit grossed out by the whole thing. Her brother? Out of all people? Despite feeling weird about it, she told me that she always thought we looked good together and she had always rooted for us for as long as she could remember.

I had laughed when she said the last part, but that night, I tossed and turned in bed all night as I imagined what my life would be like if we were together. Would he pick me up every Wednesday like he always did, but with flowers instead of packets of algebra equations? Would he hug me more often instead of the awkward occasional side hug we did ever since I started puberty?

There had been so many instances where I considered gathering up the courage to tell him about my crush on him, and I always thought I had a chance, too. There was something about the way he looked at me whenever we were playing Mario Kart that told me he considered me more than a childhood friend.

Out of the blue, Jeonghan set down his pencil. “Wanna take a break?”

I looked up from my worksheet with a meek smile. “Please?”

He laughed and stood up, helping me up with him. “Come on, I haven’t shown you the backyard yet.”

My eyes widened with excitement. “You guys have a backyard?”

“Mhm! There’s a lemon tree too. It belongs to the neighbors but they told us we can take from it whenever we want.”

I excitedly followed Jeonghan out into the hallway, living room, and to the backyard. It wasn’t the most spacious backyard I’d seen but there was enough area for all of the kids to play.

I looked around, observing the trees lined up against the fence. “Where’s the lemon tree?”

“Try looking for it.” Jeonghan shrugged and walked around the backyard aimlessly.

I playfully rolled my eyes and began looking through the different trees to try and look for the lemon tree. The sun was hot and bright, making me feel sticky and gross. The forecast wasn’t joking when it said that summer was finally here, because the early July heat was making me sweat like no other.

“Jeong-ah, a little birdie told me that you have a not-so-little crush on me.”

I froze in my tracks. “What?” My heart was racing at what felt like a hundred miles a minute and I frantically searched for something to say.

“Is it true?”

I fidgeted with the hem of my shirt with a nervous laugh. “Um… it depends?”

“Depends?” Jeonghan looked at me with an unreadable expression.

“Yeah? I mean it depends on a lot of things, right? Like your definition of like and my definition of like might be different and what do you mean by little bir-”

“I like you too,” Jeonghan interrupted my rambling with a smile. “Follow me, I’ll show you the lemon tree.”

I was so stunned that I could only wordlessly follow Jeonghan to a small space between the wall of his house and the wooden fence separating his backyard from the neighbor’s.

At the edge stood a small lemon tree that hung over the fence. The actual tree itself was planted on the neighbor’s property but it had received so much love and care that its branches grew up and over the fence onto the Yoon property.

“Woah… It’s so pretty. I can see some lemons beginning to ripen,” I reached up on the tips of my toes but the closest lemon was still too high up for me to reach. From behind me, Jeonghan laughed at my feeble attempt and effortlessly reached up for the lemon, ripping it away from the branch.

My breath got caught in my throat at the way Jeonghan was looming over me. I was always the taller one when we were younger; when did he get so tall? He wasn’t that tall yet but there was a noticeable height difference that made my heart flutter.

Jeonghan handed me the lemon and I thanked him with a small smile. “Jeonghan, about what you said earlier…”

He turned around to face me with a shy smile. It was obvious he was blushing by the way the tips of ears and his cheeks were flushed with a shade of bright pink. “Yeah, I like you. And Sua told me.”

“Why, that little—” I was about to storm into the house to give his little sister a piece of my mind, but because the walkway was so narrow, I wouldn’t have been able to pass without Jeonghan moving out of the way. I took a few steps forward, expecting him to get out of the way, except he didn’t.

“Can you, like, scooch? So I can—”

“I really want to kiss you right now,” Jeonghan said seriously. His eyes held an intense and serious gaze I had never seen from him before. The Jeonghan I knew was playful and lighthearted. Right now, whatever this was, this was the complete opposite.

“You should, if you really want to,” I managed to say breathlessly before Jeonghan took a step closer and captured my lips with his in one, swift movement. He placed a hand on my cheek, gently guiding my face up so my lips would be pressed gently into his.

I’d always been a hopeless romantic for as long as I can remember. I always dreamed of the perfect first kiss with the perfect person. It would be romantic, it would be swoon-worthy, and it would be everything I had ever seen and heard of from the books and movies.

Like fireworks. I always read about the fireworks feeling a person would get when they’d kissed ‘The One’ for the first time. I’ve always wondered when I would be able to kiss ‘The One’ and what those fireworks would feel like.

There were almost 8 billion people in the world. Statistics and studies show that an average human being meets about 80,000 people while they live. That would mean one only meets 0.00001% of the world’s population in their lifetime, which means I had almost 0% chance of meeting ‘The One’ in my lifetime. How lucky would I be, if the first person I kissed would be my last, because they were ‘The One’ for me?

The moment Jeonghan’s soft lips touched mine, everything within me collectively exploded. An indescribable feeling blossomed within my chest, spreading all over the rest of my body. After what felt like years of imagining what it would be like to be kissing Jeonghan, it was finally happening. I was kissing Jeonghan and he was kissing me, and the rest of the world seemed to slip away. Jeonghan let out a small exhale and I felt the soft tickle of his breath beneath my nose, which made me giggle.

My heart felt so full but so empty simultaneously as I poured everything I had within me for Jeonghan into this kiss. I felt like floating but Jeonghan kept me grounded with the way his soft lips were firmly pressed into mine.

I eventually reluctantly pulled away to catch my breath. Jeonghan ran a hand through his hair with a dazed look in his eyes and I grazed my lips with the tips of my fingers. They were still tingling from the sensation of kissing and I secretly hoped this feeling would never disappear.

Jeonghan slipped a hand against my lower back and pulled me closer, pressing my body against his as our lips brushed together for a second time. I sighed against his lips, which made him laugh.

“Did I just witness Yoon Jeonghan and Kim Jeong-ah kissing?” We heard a loud voice yell from above us. Immediately pulling away like two similar polar charges repelling against each other, Jeonghan and I scrambled to act nonchalant but it was too late.

Jeonghan’s older brother, Jeongmin, was staring out the second floor window with an absolute shit-eating grin. “Jeonghan and Jeong-ah, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes the love, then the marriage-”

Jeonghan groaned, annoyed by the whole situation, as he ran a hand over his tired and blushing face. “At least I can say I’ve kissed someone now.” Jeonghan mumbled.

“I heard that!”

When we walked back into the house, my heart soared at the thought of having a boyfriend. Jeonghan was going to ask me to be his girlfriend and I could already imagine the look on my friends’ faces. Awe, shock, surprise, happiness? I was so excited, I couldn’t contain my joy as I bounded into the kitchen to get a drink of water.

Jeonghan trailed behind me. His steps were slow and hesitant and I turned to face him with an expectant look in my eyes. It was going to happen, Jeonghan was going to officially ask me to be his girlfriend.

I handed him a cup of water and as he took a sip from the cup, I eyed him expectantly. After almost ten years of pining—

“So, do you want to get back to practicing derivatives now?”

At that moment, I thought my entire world had just shattered and I felt the ground underneath me open up and swallow me whole. Hell, I wish it would’ve instead of leaving me standing awkwardly in front of Jeonghan who was pretending like everything that happened in the past 10 minutes had never happened.

I guess Jeonghan noticed my reaction because he reached for the back of his neck with an awkward smile. “Our placement test is coming up and I want both of us to be really prepared, you know? I really want us to go to the same school.”

I swallowed back the bitter sting in my eyes and nodded. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

Jeonghan and I went back to his room where we spent the rest of the afternoon in complete silence, only with the occasional ‘Did I do something wrong in this equation? I keep getting a decimal’ to interrupt the silence.

Was it casual when you risked getting in trouble for my sake?

When my eyes fluttered open, the first thing I was able to register in the dark was Sua’s sleeping form on her bed. As I waited for my eyes to adjust to the dark, I sat up from my sleeping spot on the floor. To my right, I was barely able to make out my sisters sleeping a few feet away from me and I felt a cold hand press into my cheek.

“You awake, squeak?”

My eyes had somewhat adjusted by now, but I was unable to recognize the squatting shadow in front of me. But I immediately knew it was Jeonghan.

I nodded and rubbed at my eyes with the back of my hands. “What time is it?”

“Five minutes before midnight. Come on,” With Jeonghan’s help, I stood up and we stumbled out of Sua’s bedroom and into the dimly lit hallway. “Follow me.”

Jeonghan grabbed my hand and dragged me downstairs. The entire first floor was fully dark, save for the Christmas tree in the corner next to the fireplace that was still up. The bright crystal lights illuminated the walls and ornaments in a whimsical, fairytale-esque light.

“Jeonghan? What are we doing?”

The taller boy didn’t respond. He simply walked to a small door on the side of the staircase we just took. The door was barely tall enough to fit a sixth grader, definitely not two high school sophomores.

“When we moved into this house, I found this room. It’s kind of like Harry’s room in the Dursley’s home,” Jeonghan said. He opened the door, and inside was a cozy nook overflowing with pillows, blankets, and… basketball posters. Of course.

I giggled at the LeBron poster that had begun to slightly peel off the wall but followed Jeonghan inside. The room was just big enough to fit the two of us, but even when we were sitting at the opposite sides of the room, our knees would probably be touching. Jeonghan situated himself on one side of the room and patted the empty space next to him, motioning for me to sit down next to him.

“What is this place?” I plopped down on the floor next to him.

“My space. When I need a break from studying or the cello, I come here. It’s pretty cozy, huh? I decorated it myself.” Jeonghan puffed up his chest proudly and I laughed.

“Yeah, it looks great. The LeBron poster with the fluffy pink pillows. Very… you.” I fingered the throw pillow next to me and Jeonghan let out a small sound of frustration.

“I told Sua I didn’t want pink but she insisted… I wanted gray pillows,” Jeonghan groaned. He rested his head on my shoulder and pouted. I gently patted his head to console him.

“It looks great, Hannie. I promise.”

“You should ask me why we’re in here instead of sleeping like everyone else.”

I let out a sigh that ended in a laugh. “Okay, Jeonghan. Why are we in here instead of sleeping like everyone else?”

Jeonghan immediately straightened up and turned his body to face me, and I mirrored his movements. The way he looked at me with shining, excited eyes reminded me of the same 5-year old who enjoyed pulling on my pigtails and showing me his Pokemon cards.

Despite growing a lot in the past decade, there were still some parts of Yoon Jeonghan that never seemed to change. For example, that mischievous look on his face whenever he was about to do something he wasn’t supposed to.

“Wait here.” Jeonghan disappeared outside and I couldn’t help but smile at his excited, almost child-like demeanor. Resting my head against the wall, I looked up and saw the sloped ceiling decorated with glow-in-the-dark stars.

The door opened and Jeonghan reappeared with a single cupcake, a match, a candle, and two mini party hats. “I know we all got in trouble by our parents today so we can’t celebrate New Year’s, but I still wanted to do something for you. I know how much you love New Year’s celebrations.”

It was true. When all six of us had gotten in trouble earlier that evening because Jeonghan convinced all of us to try and help him set up a booby trap in his grumpy neighbor’s driveway, I was greatly disheartened when our parents decided that our collective punishment would be a bedtime of 9:30 and no New Year’s celebration.

I was particularly more upset than the others because my parents had promised me a year ago that this New Year’s celebration would be the year where I finally got to try champagne.

“Jeonghan, I-” I faltered. I couldn’t find the words to describe how grateful I was to have him at that moment.

Jeonghan scrambled to sit in the empty spot next to me. “You can thank me and be impressed later, just put this hat on. We only have a minute left.” He snapped on his own party hat before sliding its identical piece over my own head.

With a shaky hand, Jeonghan struck the match and lit the candle that was stuck atop the cupcake. We had made these cupcakes earlier today, with the help of our siblings. It had always been a tradition of ours. My family would go over to the Yoon family’s house for the New Year’s and we would spend the night.

Jeonghan, his older brother, and I were the older ones so we usually resorted to playing video games, board games, and baking while our younger siblings played with toys or watched TV. Our time together was always fun and a big highlight of my winter break every year.

But two years ago, when Jeonghan and I kissed under that lemon tree, something changed. Our conversations became more stiff and awkward and he seemed to avoid me and my text messages more often.

When I consulted my mother about this situation (minus the kissing part), she had laughed and told me, “It’s because both of you are going through puberty now. It’s okay, it’s natural! Your relationship is going to return to normal in no time.”

Albeit it did take two years and a global pandemic for the two of us to be back on speaking terms again, but I was thankful to have my best friend back.

Jeonghan looked at me with a bright smile as he softly began to count down, his phone propped up against the wall so we could keep an eye on the clock. The single flame of the candle seemed to reflect the hundreds and thousands of stars that Jeonghan held within his eyes. His long lashes fluttered against his pale cheek bone and that tear-shaped mole on his right cheek that I had always been fond of.

“Five… four…” I joined him in the count down, our hands holding the small cupcake together.

I’d grown to accept the fact that Jeonghan wanted to pretend that kiss never happened. I did a lot of thinking and reflecting during our time apart to realize that it was our silly pre-pubescent emotions that had gotten the best of us in that moment. It never meant anything.

There was also a period of time when I questioned everything. He was the one who had brought up my feelings for him first, confessed to me, and brought up kissing first.

But I also knew the answer to that. The summer we had kissed was the summer before we entered our freshman year of high school, and Jeonghan was under immense pressure from his parents to get into this prestigious academy in our town. The only way a student was permitted to attend this school was by passing an admissions test that thousands of students across the state took as an attempt to attend the school.

I had also wanted to attend that school. They had an exceptional instrumental music program and I had always dreamed of being in the same orchestra as Jeonghan. Him on cello, me on violin. My idiotic eighth grade self had even imagined ourselves performing together in our senior year of high school; Jeonghan would be first chair cello and I would be concertmaster.

But those foolish hopes and dreams of mine were crushed when Jeonghan passed the admissions tests with flying colors while I received an emergency surgery the same day for an unexpected case of appendicitis. My parents and I had begged the school for a re-take, explaining that I was physically unable to come and take the test, as well as the other retake test days because I was recovering from surgery. The school said they couldn’t make any exceptions and so I didn’t have any choice but to go to my local high school five minutes away from my home instead of the state-recognized academy Jeonghan was going to attend 20 minutes away.

“Two… one! Happy new year!” Jeonghan cheered. “One, two, three!”

11 years of friendship helped me to immediately recognize Jeonghan’s intent when he began counting again.

When he reached 3, the two of us blew at the single candle and the flame flickered for a moment before it disappeared, leaving a small trail of white smoke in its wake. Jeonghan pulled the candle out of the cupcake and I dipped my finger into the frosting and smeared it across my best friend’s cheek.

Jeonghan smiled with a mischievous glint in his eyes before dipping this thumb into the white frosting and spreading it across my forehead. “Simbaaaaa.”

We both erupted into a fit of childish giggles as I tried to smear another glob of dense, sweet frosting onto his face, but he dodged my hand successfully. And because Jeonghan was blessed by the genetic gods and had much longer arms than I did, he was able to reach over and smudge another spot of white frosting onto the top of my nose.

“Ewww!” I cried loudly.

Jeonghan tried to shush me but it was too late. We heard a door upstairs opening, and a pair of footsteps moving down the stairs. Jeonghan and I held onto each other with bated breaths and when we heard the footsteps slowly fade away, we let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“Maybe they’re just grabbing water or some-” As Jeonghan whispered into my ear, the doorknob of the small door rattled and opened, revealing Mrs. Yoon, half disheveled with a face mask.

I clamped a hand over my mouth to suppress the giggle that was threatening to spill as Jeonghan fumbled to find the right words. “H-hi, mom. We were just-”

“Out. Both of you. Now.”

Uh oh.

(We ended up being grounded by our respective parents for the rest of the winter break but it was okay because that was the best new year’s celebration I’ve ever had because it was with Jeonghan.)

Was it casual when you said you believed in fate because of me?

“Do you believe in fate?”

My sudden question must’ve startled Jeonghan because he flinched in his desk chair before adjusting his glasses to look at me. He was busy studying for the SAT so I decided to keep him company by lounging around in his bed with a book since I had passed the SAT on my first try.

“Why do you ask?” Jeonghan responded, returning his gaze back to the workbook laid out in front of him.

I shrugged, even though he couldn’t see me. “This book that I’m reading right now, it’s talking about fate and how it’s real because there’s some incidents in the world that simply can’t be coincidences.”

Jeonghan hummed in thought but didn’t respond. Comfortable silence filled the room as the question and possibility of fate hung heavily in the air, before he spoke again. “I think fate exists.”

“Really? Why?” I lifted my face to face him and this time, it was Jeonghan’s turn to shrug.

“I think some things are simply meant to be. Everything I’ve experienced, the people I met, and the lessons I learned all have a profound impact on my life and my sense of self. I think everything in my life happens because I need it to happen in order for me to fulfill my life’s purpose, whatever that may be.” He pressed his pencil against his lips. “Okay, then riddle me this. Why shouldn’t fate exist?”

I tapped my finger against the cover of the book in thought. “Hm, I guess you’re right. I think fate exists in the world, just not in my own life.”

Jeonghan set down his pencil this time, which meant he was fully invested in the conversation. “What makes you say that?”

I flipped over onto my stomach and looked at my best friend who was watching me intently from the other side of the room. His recently bleached hair was a tousled mess from all the different times he had wrangled his hair in frustration with wrestling the SAT problems in the past two hours. The black square glasses I bought him last Christmas sat neatly on the bridge of his nose. He looked good.

“I don’t know. Nothing really ‘fate-worthy’ has really happened in my life.” I made air quotes with my fingers as I spoke. “There hasn’t been a coincidence where I was so shocked, I thought, ‘This can’t just be a coincidence.’” I guess something I said had amused Jeonghan because a corner of his lips curled up. “What? What’s so funny, Yoon Jeonghan? Mr. Valedictorian?”

He threw his eraser at me. “Don’t call me that. I’m not going to be the valedictorian.”

“Helloooooo, you were literally called into the counselor’s office during summer break so she could tell you the final requirements you needed to fill to become valedictorian. What do you mean you’re not getting it? If anyone deserves that title, it’s you.” I caught the erase he threw at me and tucked it into the book I was reading to save the page for later.

“You don’t actually mean that.” Jeonghan fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. “I- I failed the SAT three times already, and even you passed-” He paused and glanced over at me. “Shit, sorry, Jeong-ah. I didn’t mean it like that.”

My eyes narrowed at his words. Although we’ve always been friends and never had any sort of rivalry except for the lighthearted competitions we did to motivate each other, there was always an unspoken tension between us when it came to academics.

When I was younger, people called me a child prodigy. I never needed a tutor or extra lessons to stay on top of my classmates and peers. My parents also never pressured me to study or have a thriving academic career. Their philosophy was that as long as I found joy in learning, that was enough for them. I was my own catalyst, rather than my parents. I wanted to push myself further and further to see how far I could go, how much I could achieve on my own.

Jeonghan was the opposite. He didn’t find studying or school fun; he preferred to play basketball outside with friends or take a nap. On his own, Jeonghan didn’t struggle to keep up, but he also wasn’t one of the best. Much different from my parents, Jeonghan’s parents considered education the most important thing to a person. I witnessed them ridiculing Jeonghan countless times for his ‘poor’ grades and performances and made constant comparisons to me and his brother.

He initially tried to fight back their expectations, but after his older brother was given special admission to Harvard as a junior, Jeonghan accepted his fate and began to focus on his studies. While I began to neglect my studies from an academic slump stretching along the past few years, Jeonghan was thriving and he was able to easily surpass me within a short amount of time.

As for my slump—the cause of it was unknown. My parents and I struggled for years to find some kind of reasoning for the sudden drop in my grades and my lack of motivation. I dropped all my honors classes because I struggled to keep up and I was soon dropped from the list of contenders for valedictorian’s for my graduating class. I was disappointed in myself and beat myself up for it, but Jeonghan always encouraged and consoled me with that smile of his.

Although all my academic prospects seemed to no longer be in reach for me, seeing Jeonghan receive recognition from his school and parents made me happy. He had always wanted to make his parents happy; seeing him glow from all the praise from his parents was more than enough for me.

The possibility of Jeonghan considering me his competition had never crossed my mind. I always thought this competition was something that was forced between our parents. I never deemed him as an opposition, but did he?

“Even I what? Even I, the more stupid one out of the two of us, passed the SAT on the first try? Really?” I sat up on the bed and threw the book down incredulously.

“Jeong-ah, you know I didn’t mean it like that.” He ran his hands through his stupid, gorgeous-looking hair again.

“Yes, you did,” My voice was biting and laced with venom as I pointed an accusatory finger at Jeonghan. “Did you always see me as competition, Jeonghan? Another opponent for you to beat so you could look good to your parents and win a sliver of their favor? I think you and I both know that Jeong-min is always and forever going to be their favorite. He got into Harvard as a junior, for Christ’s sake.” Harsh and angry words that I didn’t mean began to brew like a storm within me and slowly started spewing out of my mouth.

“I’ve always been willing to lose to you if it meant seeing you happy. I’ve noticed the way your parents reacted whenever you did something better than me. I’m not dumb, but I’m willing to let go of my ego and pride and lose to you every time if it means getting to see you smile more. Because we’re friends and because I care for you. You’re important to me and seeing you happy is more than enough for me.” I swallowed a shaky breath and the next words came out weaker than before. “Even if that meant, although I’ve been in love with you for the past at least decade of my life, pretending that the kiss we had in eighth grade and whatever the fuck that happened during the winter break of our sophomore year and any other moment that kept me up at night in our 15 years of friendship, never happened. Even when we’re able to find each other in a big crowd and lock eyes and be able to understand what the other person is thinking with a single glance. Because you seemed more comfortable that way.

“I pretended like nothing ever happened. I even dated a more than decent guy to try and get over you. I broke a good person’s heart because I was trying to forget you. Do you know what Seungcheol said to me when we were breaking up? He said that the way that he looked at me was the way that I looked at you.”

“Jeong-ah...” Jeonghan stood up from his chair but I raised a hand to stop him.

“Don’t do that thing where you soften your voice and look at me with the most gentle and caring eyes because you know the effect that it has on me and even though I know you don’t mean it, I’ll soften up again. No.”

Glancing down, I fidgeted with the fraying hem of my shirt. The thinning threads of fabric rolled between my fingers, similar to the thin, invisible string within me that was stressed and twisted, ready to snap, and I was suddenly painfully aware of how silent the room was. I wanted to leave.

When I looked back up, Jeonghan sighed and took off his glasses to set them down on his desk.

“You asked me if I believe in fate.” My silence served as a ‘go ahead’ for him to continue. “I believe in fate because you’ve been by my side for almost 16 years now. The moment I gained consciousness as a baby, you were in my life. Hearing you call my name in that sweet voice of yours and giggling because of how similar our names were, even though I was too young to understand the concept of love, I knew we were going to stay by each other’s sides for a long time.

“Our names and personalities, we were made to balance each other. When I went too far with my pranks, you were the one to knock some sense into me and I was the one to always teach you the rules of video games. I taught you how to play Minecraft on the Xbox and I was your first (and only) kill in Fortnite and Valorant because your parents refused to let you play games. I don’t know when or how it happened but I slowly began to believe that I was made for you. I was breathed into existence in this universe to be yours. We have nothing and everything in common, and I think that’s exactly what we’re supposed to be.

“The moment you kissed me under that lemon tree six years ago, from then on, you’ve owned my heart. Not a single minute or second after that moment, have I ever not belonged to you. Every inch of me is yours. My heart is yours. I’ve always been yours.”

At some point during his speech, Jeonghan had begun to cry. Tears were streaming down his face as he silently took a step towards me. When he noticed that I wasn’t stopping him, he took another.

I didn’t respond and simply searched his face for any signs of deceit or lies. There were none.

“You don’t mean that…” I whispered. Jeonghan took another step towards my direction, my heart. The string loosened. “Then why did you pretend like nothing happened after we kissed? I was waiting for you to ask me to be your girlfriend. I was so happy but you never brought it back up so I thought you thought it was a mistake or—”

“I was scared. Scared about what that kiss meant for us and what would happen in the future. I missed my timing and I was planning to ask you the next time I saw you, but before I could, my brother ratted us out and told my mom about our kiss. Obviously, my mom went ballistic and asked me how I could even think about girls during such a crucial time. She pressured and pushed me more than before so I wouldn’t get distracted.” I don’t know when, but Jeonghan had somehow reached the foot of the bed. He was merely inches away and I found myself craving for the comfort of his touch.

“Oh my God, so it was all my fault. I’m so sorry, Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan reached out and grabbed my hands with his own. His cheeks were wet from his tears and his hands were cold, as always, seeking the warmth and comfort from me as he always did for the past 15 years.

“None of this was your fault, Jeong-ah. My mom didn’t blame you, either. She thought I was the one who had gone crazy and thought I was going to throw away everything that I had ever worked for and built, for you.”

I held my breath.

“And I would. Every single time, in every single lifetime.”

I felt my own tears welling up. “Jeonghan…”

“If you ask me to fail this SAT and go to community college or whatever college that you’re going to, then I would do it without any hesitation. I don’t care about being the black sheep of the family or constantly being compared to my brother. I’m willing to do anything and everything for you.”

“Jeonghan…” At this point, the tears were spilling out of my eyes with no thoughts of stopping. “Hannie…”

From a young age, Jeonghan got cold easily. Whenever our families went camping together, he would be the first to put on an extra layer of clothing and shiver in the chilly evening weather after the sunset. Jeonghan made it a habit to seek warmth from two sources of heat during these times: the fireplace and me.

He always insisted on sitting next to me in front of the bonfire even though my younger sibling needed help sticking their marshmallows onto their roasting stick. Jeonghan would always swiftly help them with shivering hands before nudging my side of the chair with his and asking for my hands with a gentle, pleading look in his eyes.

As we got older, I often pretended to be annoyed and rolled my eyes at this gesture but never said no. How could I say no to the one boy I’d always loved?

I’d never known what it was like to not love Jeonghan. He had a playful and silly nature from a young age. He constantly played tricks on me and our younger siblings but he was also really gentle. Jeonghan loved animals and would handle any kind with the utmost gentleness and care I would see exhibited from a human.

He also had a really soft side. Jeonghan cried often. We both even had matching tear moles on our right cheeks, right below our eyes. In Korean traditional beliefs, it was said that tear moles meant the person would cry or shed tears easily. That was probably why Jeonghan and I cried so much together when we were younger.

If I fell down and hit my head, Jeonghan would start crying before I did. We were only three years old. Our parents had always laughed and joked that we were somehow spiritually connected from how in sync our emotions were from the moment we had met.

I couldn’t remember the very first time I’d met Jeonghan since I had been too young, but I heard stories. We were barely two years old when we met and at the time, there was a blanket that I was attached to. And even at that age, I guess Jeonghan had a mischievous side because he snatched up my blanket at the first opportunity and crawled ran away with it to hide it somewhere.

I immediately became one with the activated sprinklers out in Jeonghan’s front yard and began crying non-stop. Jeonghan, who was barely three years old, started crying with me before he disappeared behind the couch and brought back my blanket. And according to our parents, that marked the beginning of our friendship.

Here we were, 15 years later. I was kneeling on Jeonghan’s childhood bed and the owner of said bed currently had his knees pressed up against the wooden frame. This was the bed where we had napped together, read together, shared countless stories together, cried together, and laughed together. This rickety, worn-down furniture alone represented our countless years of friendship and companionship together.

“Do you-” I choked back my tears. “Do you love me?”

Jeonghan let out what sounded like a heartbroken sigh. He let go of one of my hands and rested his cool palm against my hot and still-wet cheek. “Jeong-ah… There hasn’t been a day where I haven’t loved you. My earliest memory of my childhood was you, in that yellow rubber duck swimming suit in our backyard, playing with the sprinklers. I think we were five?”

I smacked him in the arm with my free hand. “Seven. It was the summer break before second grade.”

Jeonghan grinned the same exact grin that had made me fall in love with him a hundred times over. It was lighthearted and boyish and it reminded me of summer. “Right. You were always better with time.” It was innocent and it made his eyes crinkle and curve into crescent shapes. “Do you remember Inside Out? We bawled our eyes out to that movie.”

I smiled at the memory. We did. During the scene when Bing Bong died, Jeonghan and I were holding onto each other and sobbed like newborns in the theater.

“As we left the theater afterwards, I remember thinking that if there was an alternate universe where our brains worked the way it did in the movie, you would have your own island and core memory in my brain’s headquarters.”

A brief pause.

“I love you, Jeong-ah. I’m sorry it took me so long to say it. You’re my first love and I will never stop loving you. To me, you’re the water for my desert, the warmth I crave when I’m cold, and the syrup to my waffles.”

I was still crying. “Pancakes are better.”

“You’re wrong, but I’ll let this one slide because the point is, I have loved you and I will continue to love you with every fiber of my being, even if you’re wrong about pancakes being better. Every atom and every cosmic dust that I am composed of belongs to you. I love you.”

If my tears were a trickle before, they were a pour now.

“Do you love me too?” Jeonghan’s voice was so gentle and soft, I almost missed his question over my snotty tears.

I nodded vigorously, afraid that my voice would fail me, as his thumb gently wiped away my tears.

“Can I kiss you?” Jeonghan’s bright eyes searched my bleary ones and I nodded again.

With almost no hesitation, Jeonghan dipped his head to press his lips onto mine. Despite his hands being cold, his lips were warm and full of love.

6 years later and I was finally able to kiss the same boy I had been in love with for most of my life, once again.

Our kiss was wet from a mixture of both of our tears. If our first kiss was rushed and awkward and passionate, this was the complete opposite. Everything about it was slow but it also felt like everything was moving so fast at the same time.

We moved as one. There was no need to come up for air when the oxygen that I’d been missing was back. Right there, in front of me, with his eyes closed and tears running down his cheeks.

It was a short kiss that only lasted about 15 seconds, but within those 15 seconds, all of our unspoken emotions and feelings and love from the bottom of our hearts were poured out from the deepest parts of our souls to the other.

My tears had stopped at some point and I placed a hand on Jeonghan’s shoulder to balance myself when we heard a loud thud from downstairs.

We jumped from where we were and reluctantly pulled away from each other. “What was that?” I asked shyly.

“I’m not sure…” He looked just as confused as I was but there was an unmistakable look on his face that told me everything that I needed to know. Jeonghan loved me and he meant it. That kiss under that lemon tree meant the world to him, like it did for me.

“I think we should go make sure—” My words were abruptly cut off by a sudden ringtone. I reached for my phone and saw that my mom was calling me, which was weird, since she was downstairs. “Hey, Mom. Is everything okay? We heard a loud noise—”

“Pack your stuff and tell your siblings to hurry up. We’re leaving.” My mom’s voice was different from what it usually sounded like. It was strained, as if she was going to burst into tears at any moment.

“Okay… but are you okay?”

“I’m okay but we have to leave. You have five minutes.”

“Oh, okay,” I ended the phone call and shrugged at Jeonghan who looked just as confused as I was. I was secretly disappointed that our time together was cut short. “I need to go. I think an emergency came up.”

I guess Jeonghan could sense my disappointment because he lifted my chin with his fingers and pressed a quick kiss to my forehead. “It’s okay. We have plenty of time, and I do really need to study for the SAT.”

I nodded and climbed off the bed. After quickly gathering my siblings and bidding good-bye to Sua and Jeong-min, who all seemed as confused as we were, my siblings and I left Jeonghan’s house in a huff and a hurry.

My mom’s face was a bright shade of red as she hustled over to our car, mumbling under her breath angrily about something.

Once we were all in the car and the engine was running, my youngest sibling asked the question we were all currently thinking: “Mommy, are you okay? Did we do something wrong?”

My mom forced a strained smile through the rearview mirror as she pulled out of the parking lot. “It’s nothing, darling. The adults were talking and we had a bit of an argument.”

Her grip on the steering was dangerously tight and I rested my hand on top of hers. “Mom, I’ll drive. I think you need to decompress, otherwise you’ll land all of us in the hospital.”

She let out a shaky breath and nodded.

As we drove back home, I couldn’t help but glance over at my mom. She was a strong woman and knew how to stand her ground. I began to wonder what had happened between her and Jeonghan’s mom for her to get so shaken up. I shook it off and told myself to ignore it since it was none of my business.

After that day, a bright sunny day during the summer before our senior year, my family and I would never again step foot inside the Yoon family’s home. Jeonghan would mysteriously block my number and we would never contact each other again.

Epilogue.

I nervously tapped my fingers against the steering wheel of my car. Next to me, my graduation cap and gown was in a rumpled up pile in the passenger seat and the weight of my hoop earrings felt eerily similar to the heavy weight in my heart.

Jeonghan always liked it when I wore hoop earrings.

Last night, I had received a text message from an unknown number with an invitation to Jeonghan’s academy’s graduation. Attached to the invitation was a screenshot of a QR code that would be used as my admission ticket into the ceremony. The message read:

‘Jeonghan got valedictorian. I was barely able to convince my mom to get a spare ticket for you. It would mean a lot if you showed up.’

Initially, I thought it might be a scam but my friends managed to get me to snap out of it. The message was too detailed and personal to be a scam, and there was nothing the unknown number would gain from me attending this graduation.

So here I was now, in Jeonghan’s prestigious, state-recognized academy’s parking lot. The sun was beginning to set and I still hadn’t gathered the courage to get out of my car. My graduation was in the morning and I had dinner plans with my family at 8 pm. Why was I wasting my time here?

I bumped my head against the steering wheel and let out a loud groan. What was I doing here?

I let out a deep breath. “Okay, Jeong-ah. You’re here because Sua invited you. Jeonghan’s graduating and he’s giving a big speech as the valedictorian. You’re here to support him as an old childhood friend. Nothing else.”

I forced myself to get out of my car and make my way towards the stadium. The seats inside were already packed, and after being waved through by security, I searched the seats for an empty spot. Eventually, I found an empty seat at the very top of the bleachers, hiding in the shade of the press box. The ceremony had already started when I entered, so the football field was filled with navy gowns and various skin-tone colored dots.

As different superintendents and student leaders made their way to the front to make their speeches, I tried my best to focus but there was a trembling within me that I couldn’t withhold.

When it was finally Jeonghan’s turn to speak, it seemed as if the entire stadium had erupted into cheers for him, but all I could manage was a feeble clap or two. As he took center stage, seeing him on the big screen at the end of the football field made my blood run cold and I felt the muscles and guts inside me squeeze and tighten with anxiety. He looked the exact same, but better.

He had dyed his hair back to black and it was cut short again. Gone were his days with a mullet, and as he spoke, I felt like I had gotten kicked in the stomach. His voice was the exact same as I imagined it. My friends called me over dramatic earlier today, saying that it had only been a year since I’ve seen him; he wasn’t going to be that different.

But they were wrong. That was one year of absolute no contact. The last time we hadn’t gotten that far without seeing each other was during the pandemic, but even then, we were constantly calling or texting each other. This was the first time we had absolutely no contact since we first met.

Jeonghan was the most decorated student out there, and there was no doubt about it. Despite being in a school full of high-achievers and students who did more extracurriculars than I could count on my fingers and toes combined, Jeonghan had somehow managed to do it all.

There was a slight breeze, which was unexpected since it was late May, but the breeze helped me cool down as the sun began to further set beyond the horizon. The stadium lights began to turn on, one by one, as Jeonghan began to wrap up his speech.

Shit. I had completely missed the speech. I was so busy reminiscing and thinking about Jeonghan that I had missed his entire speech. I racked my head to try and see if I could recollect anything but all I could remember was him talking about the Eagle Scouts.

Goddamn it, Jeong-ah. I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my palms. I was sure Sua had invited me to the graduation because she wanted me to hear his speech and celebrate her older brother becoming valedictorian.

The rest of the ceremony was a blur. As hundreds of students crossed the stage in the same cap and gown with a bright smile on their face, I blankly sat through it, trying to stay strong until the end so I could say hi and congratulate Jeonghan. The bouquet of flowers in my lap rustled in the wind as the night grew colder and the sun disappeared. The stadium lights lit up one by one, and the ceremony was done.

The principal of the school stood from his seat to congratulate the students and present to the audience, the class of 2024. Everyone rose from their seats to applaud and I followed suit. As the recessional began to play from the band, fireworks lit up the sky and everyone cheered in celebration at the sight of the students throwing their caps.

I teetered my way out of the bleachers. My feet were aching and wobbling from the pain of wearing heels all day. I should’ve brought spare shoes.

The crowd was slow and unmoving but I was eventually able to leave the stadium and look for Jeonghan and his family. His school’s campus was vast and every square inch of the school quad seemed to be littered with different students in the same cap and gown congratulating one another, crying, and taking photos with their loved ones. I felt awkward in my white dress, black heels, and limp bouquet of flowers. I was practically dressed identically as this one girl who had just walked past me. The only difference was the cap she had on her head, the tears in her eyes, and the robe she was wearing.

I spent the next 45 minutes scouring every area of the campus. I wasn’t necessarily unfamiliar with Jeonghan’s school since I had visited a couple times for youth orchestra rehearsals and the different times I had picked him on Thursdays so we could go get frozen yogurt and study together afterwards.

Jeonghan was nowhere to be found. My feet were crying out in pain, similar to how my heart yearned and cried for the love of my life who had disappeared on me a year ago. My right heel had already begun to blister and I could feel the back of my dress digging into my skin uncomfortably. I limped across the quad again and noticed how much more vacant it had become. Most families had left after taking pictures, so there were a lot fewer people than before.

I felt something within the pit of my stomach and I prepared myself to turn on my heels and return to my car when my phone rang with a new notification. It was from the same unknown number that had sent me the invitation, and this time, they had sent me their location. That must be where Jeonghan was.

I practically sprinted across the campus, following the blue dot on my screen to try and get to him as fast as possible.

I heard him before I saw him. Before I turned the corner into a secluded hallway, I heard Jeonghan’s laugh, the same laugh that haunted me every night in my sleep, echo through the empty corridors. Was this what it might’ve been like to go to school with him? To be able to recognize him in the hallways solely based on his sounds?

Fixing my hair and dress, I tried my best to look presentable before stepping forward and seeing Jeonghan smoking with his friends.

Jeonghan? Smoking?

My brain short-circuited as I tried my best to connect the two dots. Jeonghan was smoking? He was always the one who made faces when he saw people smoking on the streets and swore to never touch nicotine or tobacco in his life.

He seemed to recognize me right away because he dropped his cigarette butt on the floor, squishing it with the heel of his shoe before walking towards me.

As Jeonghan got closer, I could immediately smell the pungent scent of the cigarette that wafted off of him and I tried my best not to gag.

“JeongJeong?” His voice was impossibly soft. The cap that was on his head earlier was gone and his dark hair was a tousled mess, much different from what it looked like during the ceremony. “You came?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Of course I came, Hannie. You were valedictorian, how could I miss that?”

Jeonghan seemed to visibly swallow. He opened his mouth to say something before closing it again and whipping around to face his friends. “You guys go ahead first. I’ll catch up.”

After a collective chorus of goodbye’s, it was just the two of us. Jeonghan eyed the bouquet of flowers that seemed to have wilted in the past 2 hours. “Is that for me?”

“Uh, yeah! Here you go.” I handed the flowers to Jeonghan with mannerisms similar to a kindergartner giving her favorite crayon to her first crush to share. “Congratulations, you deserve it.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, thanks…” He trailed off with his eyes trained on the floor.

“So…” I started as an attempt to fill in the awkward silence. “What are your plans now?”

Jeonghan shrugged. “I got a full ride to John Hopkins University. I’m going undeclared but I want to be an anesthesiologist when I’m older.”

I couldn’t help it, my jaw dropped open. “John Hopkins? Full ride? Holy shit, Jeonghan. Congratulations. I knew you could do it.”

The boy in front of me grew shy and rubbed the back of his head with a hand. “Yeah… I wasn’t expecting it either. I got lucky.”

“Lucky? No, you earned that, Jeonghan. Seriously. I’m really proud of you.” I smiled at him and Jeonghan smiled back.

“Thanks, Jeong-ah. It means a lot coming from you,” Jeonghan smiled shyly and looked at me with an expectant look in his eyes. After a beat of silence, he opened his mouth to speak again. “So… what’d you think of my speech?”

Speech? Oh, God. I opened my mouth and closed it again, searching for the right words to say that were general enough to compliment him but not too general so he wouldn’t notice that I had completely spaced out thinking about him during his speech.

What did valedictorians usually talk about during their speeches? I racked my brain for ideas. Usually, a particularly sad story from their childhood and how that motivated them to pursue education. No, that wouldn’t work. Jeonghan was a highly private person, he wouldn’t expose his deepest, darkest secrets and traumas to the entire school like that. Different difficulties and setbacks they faced during high school? No, I can’t think of any examples on the spot. How much have they grown and changed as a person over the course of four years in high school? Perfect.

“I thought it was really good! I really resonated with the part where you talked about growth and change. We all make mistakes when we’re younger but the best thing we can do is bounce back from that by learning from our mistakes and moving forward.” I smiled at him again. “It was great.”

Something about Jeonghan’s demeanor changed, almost as if his facial expression darkened. “Really?”

I nodded, maintaining that same smile on my face. “Mhm. I resonated with it a lot—”

Jeonghan cut me off. “Not a single objection? No notes? I left a few mistakes in there on purpose to see if you would notice them.”

“Nope, it was great!”

Jeonghan squinted his eyes at me. He took a couple steps back and glanced at his phone screen. His current attitude and his attitude from a few seconds ago were completely different. What happened? Did I say something wrong about his speech?

“Well, I need to get going now…” He took another step back. “Thanks for coming today, and um, have a great life, I guess.”

Great life? I thought we were going to make up and be friends again, or maybe even more than friends. I still had to ask him why he blocked my number and contact on every single platform possible.

“Wait, Jeonghan—” He stopped in his tracks and turned back around to face me. “Shouldn’t we talk about what happened? About us?”

Jeonghan scoffed. “Us? There is no us.”

It felt like my heart was stabbed with a kitchen knife and twisted around at hearing those words. “What?”

He rolled his eyes. “Can you not speak English? I said, there is no us.”

“No, no. The last time we talked, you—you told me you loved me. And I told you that I loved you too,” I shook my head in denial. “You professed your love for me with such beautiful words, what do you mean—”

“It didn’t mean anything, Jeong-ah.” Jeonghan’s voice was cold. It was nothing like I had ever heard before. His voice was usually soft and gentle, almost angelic with every word he spoke. Even when he yelled in the past, his yells were docile.

“What?”

“What don’t you understand? It was just casual. We had a casual thing going on because it was convenient and we were both lonely.” Every word Jeonghan said felt like they were being spat out. Like they were dirty and he couldn’t believe he had to say these words out loud.

“Casual? No, no, Jeonghan. None of it was casual. What we had was—”

“It was casual, Jeong-ah. That’s why nothing happened between us for 16 years. It was casual and it was convenient. Last time we talked, I got swept up from the overwhelming stress of studying for the SAT and college applications. I apologize if I led you on in any way, shape, or form.”

“Jeonghan…” I struggled to find the words to speak. “I don’t understand—”

“I said everything I needed to say. I don’t know if there’s any other way for me to convey what I said so you can understand, but I really hope you have a great life. You were a really good childhood friend. I think I’ll be able to hold onto a few good memories of this shithole thanks to you.”

Jeonghan walked away, further distancing himself from me in the empty corridor we were standing in. When he reached the end, he glanced over his shoulder. “I hope you have a great time at a community college.”

That was the final blow that had shattered my heart into a million pieces. He disappeared in the moonlight as he turned the corner, leaving me all alone in the dark.

Jeonghan knew how much I hated the dark.

I walked back to my car, heart numb and feet heavy, as I stumbled every few steps from the pinching pain of my heels. On the windshield of my car, I noticed a small envelope addressed to me. I tore it open to see what was inside.

To. Jeong-ah

Hi, Jeong-ah! It’s been a while... I hope you're doing well.

I’m sure you were surprised when you first received my text. Sorry if I scared you, I got a new phone a couple months back but even then, I know we never had the kind of relationship to privately contact each other, that was more a Sua and Jeonghan thing.

I invited you to Jeonghan’s graduation because of his speech. He worked really hard on it. I probably shouldn’t tell you this but he even cried on some days because he missed you so much. I know it’s not your fault, but cutting contact was almost one of the hardest things he ever had to do. Jeonghan wasn’t himself for a while after that.

I know Jeonghan’s my brother and he’s like really gross and disgusting and stuff, but you guys always seemed so happy together, even when we were younger. I remember Sua once told me that her future relationships were going to look like whatever you and Jeonghan had going on. (And so far, she hasn’t even come close LMFAO)

I invited you so that the two of you could try and make amends. You’re both adults now so whatever happened between our parents shouldn’t affect our own relationships.

Thanks for coming, Jeong-ah. I know for a fact it meant a lot for Jeonghan too.

I’ll see you at the wedding, I guess? (lmao i’m just kidding)(unless…?)

Warm regards,

Jeong-min

reblogs and feedback is always appreciated! ^-^

tags: @fragmentof-indifference ; @minvxq ; @straykidsstanforeverandever

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deanbrainrotwritings · 1 year ago

Text

— GIMME HALF

REQUEST : “hi!! I was wondering if you could maybe write an age gap (legal obv) with female!reader × dean winchester where the reader is like in her 20s and dean's in his 40s :) just some rough smut with choking and hair pulling and spitting (if you're comfortable with it) and dean being like super "hungry" for her, like he's waited a long time for it to happen. also lots of dirty talks cause i absolutely love them hahah :) anyways im in love with your writing and all your stories! thanks a lot! <3” — anonymous

PAIRING : dean winchester x professor!reader (f.)

CHARACTERS : miracle, sam winchester

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), angst, enemies to lovers, age gap, voyeurism, smut, oral sex, p in v, praise kink, choking, hair pulling, dacryphilia, rough sex, spitting

WORD COUNT : 8.4k

A/N : devil wears prada song title. @spnkinkevents : #12daysofspnkinkmas2023 — chair sex and food play. I wrote this half-asleep while listening to ASMR, like… that’s how I write most of my stories, plus, they’re always written between 00.00-02.40. Doctor Who references, ‘cause I’m a nerd. I got carried away…. Cliffhanger bc I’m cruel.

There were countless pros and cons to having houses built so close together with windows facing the same direction.

Pros: Accidentally seeing your hot neighbour walk around naked in the living room and kitchen. Accidentally catching your hot neighbour jerk off when they think that everyone’s asleep.

Yup, she’s seen all of that and more. All from that nameless, freckled, green-eyed man next door.

Even wholesome things, like him playing with his cute dog, babying the little rascal and spoiling it. Him cooking and baking, being wholeheartedly content with feeding it to the tall, Hazel-eyed puppy dog of a man, the tall man’s gorgeous deaf wife, and his tiny adorable son; the blue-eyed, dreamy dude in a trench coat; and that endearing young boy with blue eyes who looked like a combination of all three of the men.

There were times where she’d seen the green-eyed man dressed as a cowboy and even a princess to entertain the little baby boy—his nephew. For sleepovers with him, he’d read him bedtime stories while being completely animated. He’d build a bunch of forts, with sheets, the couch, pillows, and some Christmas lights. He'd talk to the little boy and hold serious conversations despite neither of them being able to understand each other. He’d teach the young boy and the baby boy how to fix cars—at least he tried to. He’d pack his best friends' lunches every morning with his hair unkempt, half asleep, while sipping on some coffee. He’d even take naps with the baby, treating him as his own son.

He’d do ridiculously endearing things, too, such as baking bread at night when he couldn’t sleep. He'd read books only when he was alone, as if he’d be made fun of by his friends, and she finally understood why. They were either romantic, erotic, or completely nerdy and abstract. He had range. He’d watch cheesy soap operas and rom-com k-dramas when he did chores. He loved to collect things such as Pokémon cards and even legos.

There were a million things he did that she thought were cute. The windows into his house were like the screens of a television, like her favourite character, she got to see him when he’s relaxed and surrounded only by those who love him

As for the cons, we’ll get to that…

When they first moved in, it was about three and a half years ago. She’d been visiting her family in Kansas City for her oldest brother’s birthday in June.

When she returned to Lebanon, they had already settled down. There was a brown and beige Ford pickup truck, a black Subaru—both parked in the front, and a sleek black Impala in the driveway.

The youngest, Jack, waved at her one day when he returned with Cas after buying groceries. Then, Cas awkwardly introduced himself and Jack, and gave her the names of the other two men who were brothers, Sam is the tall one and Dean was the freckled one.

Sam was the most social one. He’d spark up conversation with her whenever he saw her, dropping bits and pieces of information about himself, his brother, his fiancée, Cas, Jack, and Dean’s loyal dog, Miracle.

After seven months of living together, Sam moved out with his wife, Eileen. They’d just gotten married, and they both invited her. She’d gone, the wedding was pretty, cute, and modest. Y/n had spoken to a few of their close family and friends. Dean, however, kept to himself the whole night as if he were grieving. He’d smile occasionally if any of his friends came to him, he was enthusiastic, and then he'd go back into himself.

Four months later, Sam and EIleen returned; she was pregnant. It was a boy, he’d planned on naming him after his big brother, which Y/n thought was adorable. He hadn’t told his brother, but planned on telling him the day his son was born.

Y/n could tell Dean had mixed feelings about his brother’s departure, mostly negative feelings. He loved Eileen and his nephew. But when it was just him, Cas, and Jack, he'd often drink, despite concerned, useless interventions with Cas. Unless Sam, Eileen, and his nephew were there. He’d never even glance at that top-shelf cupboard.

The good thing was that at least Dean was a happy drunk.

The first time she interacted with Dean was a few weeks after she’d returned from Kansas City, she assumed two things: his heart was closed off to new people, and he’s one hot, irritating, grumpy, sour, old man.

It was the spring semester at Kansas University. Y/n was grading her students’ creative, personal essays in the office downstairs. She was perplexed by the small percentage of her students and their inability to use proper grammar or follow the thorough, detailed checklist she created to get them to pass easily.

Just when she thought she’d gotten great at making their lives easy, they return the shittiest, half-assed essays. She felt bad for the bad grades, but since the rest of her students managed to get perfect scores or at least proficient scores, she couldn’t just let them pass.

Loud banging on the door startled her from reading an impressive essay. Her blood ran cold and she scrambled up from her rolling chair, ignoring that she pushed it halfway across the room.

Her socked feet were quiet on the wooden floor, making her way quickly down the hallway until she got to the shelf where she kept her gun. She pressed it against the door and looked through the peephole, then relaxed when she saw Dean.

She was irritated by the loud knocking, though, regardless of how cute he looked when he was clearly pissed off. She opened the door and set the gun down on the table where she usually placed her keys.

“Lady, have you seen the mess you made outside?” Dean asked her, pointing behind him. She stared at him, stunned by how much prettier he looked up close. Her cheeks turned hot, but she looked past him trying to see whatever he was pointing at.

She looked at her red Mustang parked in the front as a reminder to restock the kitchen, then looked close to where his house was. She winced at the mud and the running water from her hose going into his nice lawn.

“Shit,” she murmured, toeing her socks off before moving past Dean to turn the hose off. She got distracted by the mud and the puddles as she pulled the hose, and coiled it back where it should have been. It’s been a while since she last let her bare feet feel this beneath, the smell of wet dirt was amazing, even when it wasn’t caused by rainfall.

“Do you always do shit like this?” He asked from behind, his tone harsh.

She frowned when she turned to look at his furious face, careful to not touch her forehead with her muddy hands when she used her wrist to move hair away from her face.

“I’m sorry,” she apologised, tilting her head at him. He just rolled his eyes at her, then he stared at his lawn, and ran his hand down his face. “Did I do somethin’ else to piss you off?” She asked, looking around to see if there’s anything else she may have forgotten.

“One, your cat’s too damn loud, crying and meowing for my damn dog when you let him out,” he started, which made her blink in confusion. She didn’t expect something like that to get on his nerves. “And B, why the hell do you have cameras facing my place?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, her ego being injured fueled her anger and defensiveness. “Okay, listen, Doctor Who, I said I was sorry, okay?” She could tell her words stunned him by the furrowing of his brows in bewilderment, disarming him and shutting him up. “It’s not my fault your dog likes my cat, too. And the cameras are off, they’re there to scare people, so fuck off,” she snapped before she stop herself.

Dean scoffed at her, “fuck you.” She rolled her eyes at him this time, staring daggers into his back when he turned around to get to his home.

“If you’d fuck me, maybe you wouldnt be such an asshole.” Her snide words made him freeze. He laughed dryly and he turned to face her once more, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Pretty sure I’d still hate you, sweetheart,” he chuckled, crossing his own arms. That stung, even if she didn’t know him personally and half the time she spent romanticising him based on the little bit of information she had. “And I’d rather go fuck some other chick.” She clenched her jaw and breathed in slowly, angry heat began rising up her neck the faster her heart started to beat.

Entirely unintended, she venomously spat, “according to your brother, you haven’t been lucky enough, and you’re not going to be.”

“You talking to my brother about my sex life?” He stepped closer to her, his nostril flaring in anger. Betrayal and hurt crossed his features and she realised her mistake.

“No, just overheard him ‘cause you’re an overbearing douchebag,” she lied smoothly. Truth was, Sam and Eileen did accidentally—drunkenly—tell her how hard it was for Dean to maintain a serious relationship for more than three months. They don’t remember sharing that information. It was easy for her to casually ask about Dean’s love life and availability, masking her attraction to Dean as mere surprise as to how the younger brother got married before the older one. “Makes sense now why no one will sleep with you,” she laughed mockingly, stepping closer to him defiantly.

His face was red now, too. Angry, offended, he rolled his eyes at her smug face and body language. “You don’t know shit about me.”

“Sure, yeah, if that makes you feel better,” she snorted, patting his very nice, broad shoulder with her muddy hand as she made her back into her house. Preoccupied by the small mud-print on his beige Henley, he couldn’t get the last word in or stop her from leaving him flustered in her swampy driveway.

That was the start of a horrible relationship with her neighbour. The neighbour she had a crush on.

He found all kinds of reasons to complain. Big and small. And she secretly did things to piss him off, occasionally sabotaging his plans.

The thing was that deep down, she still liked him, but he made her so angry and frustrated. And it felt good to see him angry and frustrated by things she caused either on purpose or accidentally. Any attention was better than no attention.

Eventually, that all changed. The fun, the it’s-better-than-nothing feeling, it didn’t last. Fourteen months later, she stopped the cruel games and decided to avoid him completely.

When her friends offered to take her out, she agreed, even if she wanted to stay home. If Dean was home, she made sure to never say no to them, and sometimes she’d offer to take them out. Wherever.

She’d started to grade at the cafe, library, or the diner, even if Dean went to all those places often. At least he wouldn’t say anything there around all those people.

When she grew closer to Sam, Cas, and Jack, she’d find excuses not to go over to Dean’s when they offered either food, game nights, movie nights, or random hangouts. They started to notice too—the tension, the avoidance, the hostility—and they’d go over to her place instead, often without Dean, who’d choose to go out to avoid staying home alone.

It was awful. The rejection started to hurt, yet, he had her heart in the palm of his hand. Deep down, she knew that Dean wasn’t a bad person; he just didn’t like her.

Eventually, Dean ended his animosity, too, and everything went back to ‘normal’. She slowly started to reject offers from her friends to test the water, stayed home to grade, and didn't permit her cat to leave even if it cried for an escape. If she took him out, it was with a leash she eventually got him to get used to.

They ignored each other when they crossed paths—in the driveway, at the grocery store, at diners, at the cafe. They acted like complete strangers. She’d keep her curtains closed, at least she did for the windows that face his house. She made her presence as unnoticeable and as invisible as she could to prevent causing more damage to each other.

Then, about two months ago, on Halloween, Sam, Eileen, Cas, and Jack went to her house to collect candy. Sam made a point of staying back while the rest of them walked to where Dean was waiting—looking anywhere but at her house—to convince her to go to his and Eileen’s place for Thanksgiving.

He was honest, cute, wide hazel eyes attempting to convince her to try and make amends with Dean. She didn’t doubt it, when he told her that Dean felt guilty, but her pride was bruised, and her heart was broken. She told Sam she would be visiting her own family for that holiday. She omitted that she’d be going to her mother’s house a few miles away, still in Lebanon. And she easily convinced her mother to let her stay the rest of the week until she had to go back to work.

Now, Christmas was near—in four days, to be exact. It wasn’t the holiday spirit that made her change her mind, it was the hurt and the exhaustion of planning her life around avoiding Dean.

So, she called Sam, she asked if he could do anything to get Dean alone tomorrow.

For the rest of the day, she would start to prepare everything—even though it was Dean who created the mess—she was willing to make the first move and hopefully meet him halfway.

She couldn’t lie that she felt embarrassed by how excited she was to see Dean. She couldn't even differentiate the meaning of the butterflies in her stomach, but she powered through her fluttering heart and her shaking hands as she prepared everything before going to see him.

She considered not doing it at all, calling it quits—but the consequences of that quickly made her miserable. That would just mean more avoidance, more hiding, more changing everything about herself to make him happy.

All of this over one little misunderstanding. One bad day where her mouth ran without consulting her brain first ruined what could have otherwise been a good friendship—perhaps even a romantic relationship.

She was twenty-six and just like Dean, she hadn’t had a serious relationship since… Well, ever. The last time someone convinced her to date them was in highschool, and even before that, it took her a month—or less—to figure out she wanted nothing to do with them. She didn’t like the people she dated. She realised quickly that she didn’t even want a future with them, she didn’t even allow them to kiss her or touch her. So she figured that if she didn’t want to marry them, what was the point of wasting her time?

For so long, the first thing she thought of when she felt attracted to someone was: can I stand the thought of their touch? Can I see myself kissing them, letting them kiss me? Can I stand the thought of the fights and staying with them through thick and thin? Can I picture myself with them in the future, permanently?

The answer was always ‘no’ and the attraction died immediately after the realisation.

With Dean, the answer was different. Not for some stupid reason, like fate, or the boy-next-door trope. No. This was reality, and the real reason was the fact that she got to see who he was before she was attracted to him.

It was the selflessness, the love in everything that he did, the gentleness of his heart, the kindness that radiated from him, and the ease in the way he did chores, the way he made his friends laugh, his playfulness, the loyalty, the way he was clearly protective.

It was the open windows of her house into his open windows that let her see through him, down to his very beautiful core. It was the lack of hidden things, the openness of his soul because he felt safe, unwatched. It was real because Cas, Jack, and Sam were proof that even though Dean wasn’t perfect, he was worth it.

The Doctor did say once: the good things don’t always soften the bad things, but vice-versa, the bad things don’t necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant.

For the first time, she was willing to take a chance.

She smoothed down the silky emerald-green dress. It was pretty, flowing down her body perfectly, stopping at the middle of her calves…. Actually, now that she looked at herself in the mirror, her curls perfectly maintained, the light touch of makeup, the heels… was it too much?

She ignored those anxious thoughts and made sure she had everything she needed and everything that she prepared before stepping out into the cold.

The spaghetti straps didn’t stop the cold, but the heat of her nervousness at least did something as she walked up to his door and waited after knocking gently.

When he opened the door, he was stunned to see her.

“What?” He asked bluntly.

She could tell that the way she was dressed caught him off guard. His eyes moved from her face, up to her hair, back down to the boxes in her hands, and lower to her feet.

“I’ve got pie,” she said the first thing her mind thought of. Yes, it was blunt, yes, it disarmed him further… It was not smooth, but Dean looked behind him, and then he looked at her once more while biting his lip before opening the door wider, and stepping out of the way for her to enter.

She exhaled shakily as he scratched the back of his neck. Out of habit, she slipped out of her heels before stepping inside his home, planting her bare feet on the soft, long rug he had. He kindly, wordlessly, took her heels from outside and placed them on the shoe rack he had inside before shutting the door behind her.

She felt so… warm. Finally, she was inside the place she longed to be in. Right where Dean was. Along the walls there were dozens of pictures, but she didn’t go too far, she waited for him.

She felt his presence behind her and it made her shiver, but she couldn’t bring herself to look back at him. Instead, she stared at photos of him with Cas, Sam, Jack, and other people she hadn’t met. Women and Men. Dean was smiling in all of them. And in a large majority of them, they were looking at him while he looked at the camera.

What a funny thing.

“Here,” he said from behind her, his deep voice sounded soft, gentle, unlike the last time they spoke to each other. It made her shudder. “Let me help.” She slowly braced herself when she turned around, staring into his beautiful green eyes, illuminated magically by Christmas lights.

“Thanks,” she whispered, carefully loosening her grip on the objects in her hand for him to take what he wanted—which was everything.

She stepped to the side when he murmured, “no problem,” and started to walk off to the kitchen. She followed him slowly, took a look around, respectfully, curiously, just when she heard the clicking of nails and the thump of paws on wooden floors, and the bark of his dog headed in their direction.

“Miracle,” Dean grunted, setting everything down on the table, “not inside.” While the fluffy dog did stop its excited running, his enthusiasm was not lost as he wagged his tail, and playfully got down on his stomach in front of her feet. Still on his belly, Miracle approached Y/n slowly, paws and tongue at her toes, as if testing the waters.

“Hey,” she greeted softly as she squatted slowly and laughed quietly, gently scratching Miracle’s head as he nudged her hand with his wet nose, staring up at her with adorably wide eyes—much like Sam did. “You’re so cute,” she cooed, her heart warming up when Miracle barked quietly.

He then jumped up and turned towards Dean, who was watching them—perplexed, happy, conflicted.

“You were asleep,” Dean scolded, but sweetly took Miracle’s head in his hands and kissed him between his ears. Miracle whined and stepped away, sitting in front of Dean as if saying ‘I’ll be good if you let me stay’. “Whatever,” Dean groaned with a smile, which made Miracle happy, because he laid his cheek on his paw and stared up at Dean, resting.

Now, it was awkward.

Dean caught her staring at him, her expression inquisitive. She cleared her throat awkwardly, but she couldn’t form words. She only now noticed that he was wearing a faded black shirt and hotdog pyjama pants.

“So…” Dean began instead, “pie.” It wasn’t any better, but it’s as she always said: it was better than nothing.

“Yes,” she confirmed, “strawberry… you weren’t getting ready for bed…?” She inquired, tipping her chin in the direction of his attire.

“Not to sleep,” he reassured her, taking a few steps toward the cupboards to pull out two plates, glass cups, and then some utensils from the lower drawer. “Why are you doing this?” Dean asked quietly from where he was across the kitchen, everything still in his hands.

“I deserve better that’s why,” she snapped. He blinked at her, guilty, but she paused and took a deeper breath. Careful to not smear her eyeliner, she rubbed her temples instead. She reached behind her to wrap her ankle around the leg of a chair to pull it out and sit down. “Sorry, I don’t like… being angry,” she breathed out, looking out his kitchen window into her dark living room. She switched the Christmas lights off. “It's very stressful because I…” She turned to look at him and forgot her words as he came closer.

He looked cuter in person and prettier, still. Three years and nothing has changed, he still had her heart right in his hand.

“Why?” He pressed, placing everything down on the table in front of her. Looking up at him felt intimidating, so she averted her gaze. He was much older than she was… it made her… feel dumb. See-through. Like he could figure her out in seconds.

“Because I’m friends with your friends,” she admitted without looking at him, then she reached out to arrange the plates, cups, and utensils. He sat down thoughtfully, and watched her unstack the small boxes she brought over.

“You’re doing this for them,” he laid out flatly, but he took a seat next to her and stared at her. His eyes on her made her self-conscious, flustered. She bet he could see everything, all the ugly and the weird in her.

“I’m doing this for me,” she corrected him gently, “I just want to be happy,” she sighed, removing the plastic wrap she placed over the pie she baked. “Is that selfish?” She wondered out loud, taking the knife, she stared at it.

“No,” Dean sighed, wrapping his hand around hers to take the knife. She inhaled sharply at the warmth of his touch, his calloused palms brushing against the back of her hand, sending warmth over her chest, pressing into her wrist with her heart excitedly pounding against her ribs.

She released the knife into his hold, trying to hide how much he affected her, but she doubted she could fully do that with the Christmas lights exposing the blush she could feel on her face. She could feel her veins pumping blood faster, caught up with the heavy beating of her heart. If he looked down at her neck, he could probably see it in her veins.

She looked away, down at Miracle who was still peacefully laying on his belly, and Dean looked away towards the beautiful pie to start slicing into it.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, taking her plate to give her the first slice. She looked up at Dean, taking the plate with a generous slice of strawberry pie.

“I wanted to be the first to say it…” She complained playfully, trying to maintain eye contact with him, but his beauty was intimidating, forcing her to look away, “soon as my ego stopped being sensitive,” she added.

Dean laughed softly, placing his own slice on his plate. The sound of his laugh made her smile, her stomach flipped with elation, at the crinkles by his eyes. Her breathy exhale made him look at her.

“Well, I’m forty-four, my ego’s been bruised enough times,” he told her, “I don’t care much for it when…” he trailed off and chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully. She bit her lip, too, trying not to stare too long at his pretty mouth.

“Well, thanks,” she murmured, her jaw twitching as she looked away from him.

“I’d consider all this an apology,” he told her, gazing at her as she opened two rectangular boxes. She smiled, shaking her head. She pulled out a bottle of homemade eggnog along with a decorated jar filled with white frosting, and a small container with crushed peppermint candy. “This isn’t… poisoned, right?” He teased, still watching her while she opened the bottle of rum eggnog, she tilted her head at him, amused. “Just making sure… you did make all this…” he trailed off, impressed.

“Taste the pie,” she encouraged as she started making the drinks.

“You’re just trying to shut me up,” he chuckled gruffly, but he picked up his fork and started to dig in. The strawberry filling barely touched his tongue when he moaned, she watched him not even begin to chew. His brows furrowed and he closed his eyes, savouring the pie.

It made her blush, but she focused on covering the rim of the cups he brought with the whiskey frosting she made and the peppermint candy shavings before filling it with eggnog.

“You made the frosting, too?” He asked, tipping his head towards the jar. His mouth was full, some strawberry filling dripped down the corner of his mouth, but he picked it up with his tongue. She licked her lips, trying to stop herself from breathing airily, and passed him the eggnog with a nod and slid the jar of frosting towards him to serve herself some eggnog.

Dean dipped his finger into the frosting, collecting a large amount before wrapping his lips around his finger to suck the frosting off. She forced herself to look away from how hot he looked and ate her own slice of pie instead.

“I’ve seriously been missing out,” he murmured regretfully. “I was real childish,” he told her, “I never should’ve gotten pissed over… everything-”

“Dean,” she interrupted him, giving him a sheepish smile, “you already apologised and I forgive you. Besides, I did things, too.. on purpose… so, I’m sorry.” She pursed her lips and took a sip from her eggnog, swiping her tongue along the sweet frosting.

“You did things on purpose?” He repeated, a smirk on his face. She breathed out a laugh and nodded bashfully. “Why?” he wondered, leaning into her curiously, subtly moving his plate of food towards her. She considered being blunt, but she chose to test him instead.

“Probably the same reason you got pissed at everything I did and didn’t do,” she laughed, pulling a piece of strawberry out of the pie to put it in her mouth.

“I doubt that,” Dean muttered, picking up his own drink, and taking a large gulp. She eyed him closely, her eyes becoming hooded when he licked across his lips after drinking to collect the thin layer of sweetened alcohol on his mouth.

“What was your reason then?” She wondered flirtatiously, her voice low and seductive. She pushed her plate away with her arm., and mimicked his body language, scooting forward in the chair.

She watched as his eyes darkened and his jaw clenched, his hand tightening around his fork before he dropped it. She’d never quite been stared at that way before, but it suddenly—almost, made her laugh. Her legs felt weak, her stomach heavy, almost fooling her into thinking she couldn’t get up, but she did.

With a rapid heart and shaky knees, she pushed her chair back, and Miracle lifted his head in alarm. Dean leaned back in his chair, sliding his palms up his thighs, and watched hungrily as she lifted her dress up her legs, squeezing in front of him and part of the table to sit on his lap.

“Seems like we’ve both been missing out on a lot of stuff,” she whispered, her stomach fluttering for a variety of reasons, but mostly from excitement. He bit his lip, eyes twinkling as he placed his hands slowly on her thighs. She sank her teeth down on her lip, too, breathing heavily when his hands began sliding up her thighs, lifting her dress higher, and higher.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, continuing to move her dress up until his hands were wrapped around her hips where he could realise she wasn’t wearing any underwear. “I thought I should tell you, before I ruin you,” he rasped, tightening his hold on her hips.

“Fuck,” she moaned, moving forward in his lap until their hips were pressed together. She brought her hands into his hair, and pulled it gently, bringing her mouth close to his, but she never kissed him. She breathed against his lips and when he leaned forward to kiss her, she pulled back teasingly.

“You’re seriously gonna make me wait?” He whispered, slowly rolling his hips up into her, his hard cock pressing into her wet core. She gasped softly against his mouth and laughed breathlessly.

“You feel good,” she praised, flushing as she ground against him harder.

“I’d feel better inside you,” he smirked, sliding one of his hands farther up her dress, his warm palm flattening up her stomach reverently, stopping beneath her breasts..

“I bet,” she moaned, arching into his touch before finally pressing her tinted lips against his. Dean moaned softly against her mouth, pressing against her hungrily, then lifted her up, carefully moving his plate and cup aside to lay her down on the table.

“Miracle, bed,” Dean ordered when he pulled away from her lips. The dog obediently stood up and excitedly made his way to where Dean’s room was. Dean kissed her once more, drawing her attention away from Miracle and back to him.

She’d never been kissed the way Dean kissed her or touched the way Dean touched her. His hands were everywhere, testing, learning, skillful. He scratched her skin sending sparks down to her already soaked core, kneading her body roughly until she moaned against his mouth. He squeezed her and made her wet. He dug his blunt nails into her and made her nerves ignite. His hands smoothed across her, sailing over her body like she were an ocean and he was a sailor.

He was desperate, devouring her mouth with his tongue and his teeth, putting his all into the kiss, licking her lips, teasing the inside of her mouth, brushing against her warm tongue. He yearned to memorise the taste of her mouth, to feel close to her, pressing and moaning against her the way he’d done when he ate the pie and frosting. He nibbled on her lips, tugging, biting, claiming, taking the air from her lungs and pulling away at the perfect time.

He rolled his hips into her frantically and finally started to move away from her now-swollen lips, the colour of her raspberry tint robbed and replaced by the redness of his kiss.

He dragged his teeth teasingly along her jaw and licked his way down her neck, pressing his stubbled face into her neck, kissing and sucking softly, searching. She rolled her head to the side, giving him all the access he needed, until finally, she moaned loudly when he sucked into her sweetspot. He smiled against her throat, feeling her take handfuls of his shirt, her hips wiggling impatiently beneath him.

He kissed lower still, then back up to the other side of her neck, and bit her collarbones, kissing every inch of her skin, her shoulders and her sternum. She loved every second of it and slipped her hands beneath his shirt, touching and scratching his skin, pulling him closer as he bucked into her bare core.

“Did you know your shirt was see-through when we first met?” He whispered into her cleavage. She laughed and replied with a breathless ‘no’. “Well.. your tits on display, legs bare in those tiny shorts, all pissed as hell… it was hot,” he chuckled, lowering the thin straps of her dress until the top started to reveal her breasts.

“Is that why you jerked off that night?” She asked, gripping his hair and tugging hard. He grunted and laughed, staring into her lustful eyes.

“You saw?” He teased, bringing his hand to her breast, squeezing roughly. “The answer’s yes.. And everytime after that, it was also ‘cause of you,” Dean confessed, “couldn’t stop thinking about you, every day and every night. I thought I hated you, but I guess I just needed to fuck you.”

She chuckled, gripping the hem of his shirt, dragging it up his body as he latched onto her nipple. She hummed softly, tugging hard at his hair, in complete bliss as he wrapped his mouth around the bud, licking, sucking, and biting until she whimpered for him to give her more—which was impossible. He moved onto her other breast, savouring her warm skin with his hotter mouth, tugging her neglected nipple with his fingers, twisting and pinching.

“Please,” she moaned, yanking his hair so he’d pull away. Dean growled against her flesh and bit down hard on her breast, before pulling away, drawing a mewl from her of his name.

“You could be nicer,” he muttered, allowing her to lift his shirt up off his body, but he continued to kiss her breasts, sucking gently around the flesh to leave red marks. He lifted her feet up on the table and pressed her thighs close to her chest, opening her up to admire her soaked sex.

“We’re long past nice, pretty boy,” she teased blushing and biting her lip when he stood up straight. She didn’t look at him, too insecure to watch him as he brought his hand to the inside of her thighs, teasing her vulva.

“You think I’m pretty?” He grinned, circling her entrance, moaning at copious amounts of arousal on his fingers. “So wet… you that needy for my cock inside you?” He asked smugly.

She looked at him now, heat flooding up her face at his obscene words. Before she could say anything about it, the tattoo on his chest drew her attention away from the adorable pride on his face.

“You’re a hunter,” she stated, stunned, blinking at him with a smile. He looked down at himself then at her, speechless. She lifted her hips and hitched her dress up higher to reveal her ribcage where she had the same tattoo, twice as small.

“You’re a professor,” he remarked with arousal on his face, pushing his finger into her. He lowered himself down her body and wrapped his arm around her legs, holding her open as he breathed warmly against her wet cunt.

Before she could close her legs to him demurely, Dean dove in, his mouth hot on her pussy. He ate her out the same way he kissed her, teeth making her whimper, his tongue parting and tasting, picking up the flavour of her wetness as she moaned.

He salivated on her, humming in satisfaction while he sucked her clit into his mouth while he fingered her. Her hands found his hair once more, pulling hard and almost painfully, but his cock jumped each time inside the thin material of his pyjamas. Dean added a second finger as he moaned against her swollen clit, knuckles deep, pressing against the front of her textured walls, drawing silent moans from her, making her squirm more and more.

“Fuck,” she panted, “you’re so good,” she praised, flexing her hand above his head before gripping at the honey strands. He slurped lewdly, devouring her pussy, squeezing her hips desperately holding her close to his face while she pushed him harder against her cunt. “Dean… I’m close,” she moaned, closing her legs around his head.

He moaned again, adding another finger, shoving deep as he circled her swollen clit with his tongue, drawing figures on her clit possessively. She gasped loudly and cried out his name, tensing up when she orgasmed, her walls clamping down on his three fingers. The rapture of her orgasm seemed endless as he continued to tongue at her clit, it made her writhe uncontrollably, and he smirked against her pussy.

Her whiny laugh and the way she squeezed his head to stop him made him chuckle, and he tapped her thigh once he pulled his fingers from within her pulsing walls. She released him, melting into the table while he licked his fingers clean of her release.

“You taste good,” he told her earnestly, “so fucking good.” She bit her lip, giving him a look of disbelief. He narrowed his eyes at her, leaning down to lick a long stripe up her pussy, then down, pushing his tongue past her clenching, wet hole.

“Dean, fucking…” she moaned, “oh, God, why does that feel good?” She snickered, then he pulled away hovering above her. She opened her eyes to his smug face, his clean fingers squeezed her cheeks roughly until she opened her mouth. She furrowed her brows, whining out with her hands around his wrist so he’d release, but she shut up when he spit in her mouth.

“Taste yourself,” he ordered, licking his lips. Her pupils dilated as she looked into his eyes, the tangy taste of herself made her mouth water and she swallowed. “D’you know how hot you are?” He asked rhetorically, kissing her roughly once more, ravenous and stopped only when he felt her hands pushing his pants down his legs.

“I want you, Dean,” she whispered against his mouth, biting his lip before returning the passion of his kiss.

“Where?” He asked teasingly, wrapping his arm around her waist, he sat her up on the table and gently held her face in his hands, before releasing her to strip completely.

“I want you inside me,” she told him coquettishly, hopping off the table to slowly let her dress pool around her feet. “I want to ride you, to feel you stretch me open…” she walked towards him, watching him completely aroused, a look of pleasant surprise on his face, “I want you to fill me up, and make me cum on your cock…” she licked her lips, staring down at his cock, erect and leaking precum. “... I’ve never seen a dick this nice,” she told him, wrapping her hand around the base and stepping closer to him.

He grunted, “suck it then.” She laughed through her nose, releasing his cock to fondle his balls. He moaned, stumbling slightly. “I’ve been wanting to shut you up with my cock in your mouth,” he told her, a smirk on his face, “now, I’m just thinking how pretty you’ll look with your lips wrapped around me.” Dean reached up and curled his fingers around the back of her neck.

She looked behind him, removed her hand, and tipped her head to the chair, “sit.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he grinned, kicking the chair towards him like she had earlier, then he sat, legs wide and tempting. “You’re sexier than you were in my imagination,” he told her, watching her get down between his legs, kissing his thighs while looking up at him through her curled lashes.

“Keep talkin’,” she grinned up at him, taking his heavy cock in her hand once more. Dean gave her a sexy look, smug and aroused.

“I wanna finish in your mouth,” he told her, “want to see you swallow my load.” Pleased, she moved forward and began kissing and licking the length of his cock, teasingly and experimentally feeling the velvety, veiny texture against her hand, tongue, and lips. “I want to hear you choke on my cock, and see what you look like with tears in your eyes as I fuck your pretty face.” She moaned softly, intrigued by the description of his fantasy.

She dipped her tongue into the slit, moaning at the taste of his precum, drooling over the soft head of his cock before sucking him into her mouth.

“Fuck,” he moaned, tangling his fingers in her hair. She slowly took him deeper, pulling him out of her hot mouth teasingly, then swallowing inch by inch of his hard cock. “You’re so good at that, baby,” he panted, letting her take her time at her own pace, but he gripped her hair tightly. “Don’t stop,” he moaned, staring into her eyes as she continued to take his cock, bobbing her head, not stopping until he hit the back of her throat. She swallowed around him, and he bucked his hips up, releasing a whispered curse, attempting to keep his eyes open to watch her suck him off.

She got comfortable between his legs, taking his freehand to put it in her hair. He took her hair, put it together, and waited for her permission before slowly lifting his hips, pushing his cock slowly into her throat. When she gagged, he slowly pulled back, then pushed back into her, lips parted, releasing quick breaths.

Eventually, he started to fuck her face in earnest, lifting his hip up off the chair, pulling her hair hard to guide her on and off his dick. Her spit dribbled down her chin in a mixture of his precum. She swallowed as much as she could, moaning and blinking tears that tickled her eyes and her jaw.

“You look so fucking…” he chocked on a moan, “so damn sexy.”

She ignored the soreness of her jaw, relaxing it as best as she could as he fucked her near mercilessly. Her pussy throbbed with every sound of his pleasure, clit aching for attention at the way he gazed down at her with burning desire, but she refused to touch herself, enjoying the build-up, the desperation for another orgasm, for his touch.

He throbbed in her mouth, turning to mush beneath her mouth. He even began to whimper and moan her name, praises and dirty words becoming scarce in attempts to hold back his orgasm, edging himself with her mouth. It didn’t take long for him to hold her with her nose against his pelvis breathlessly.

He pulled her off his cock, and released her hair to wipe tears tenderly from her hot cheeks with his thumbs, trying to get his mind off the near-pleasure of her mouth around his cock while catching his breath.

“Yummy,” she rasped, pulling a breathless laugh from him. She wiped her chin with her shoulder and smiled up at him, slowly getting up on her knees to get rid of the ache of sitting on her legs.

She got up, leaning back against the table, admiring him in his red, flushed, somewhat sweaty state. His hair was a mess from her hands and he had a blush around his neck to his ears. She knew the hardness of his body accounted for the fact that he was a hunter, as well as the scars she felt beneath her soft hands, bite marks, bullet wounds, and healed slashes.

“Come closer,” she told him and he laughed, bringing himself and the chair closer, stopping when she sat on his thighs, fixing herself over his strong thighs. “Gonna cum if I tease you?” She asked, tapping the head of his cock. It twitched instantly and he moaned.

“Depends,” he replied breathily, sliding his hands up her body. She hummed softly, spreading her legs, positioning his cock near her soppy folds.

“On what?” She cackled playfully, parting her folds with one hand, circling her clit with her fingers. He watched her lustfully, the wetness that made her pussy shine coated her fingers.

“How wet and warm you feel on my cock,” he replied truthfully. He grabbed her hand and moved it out of the way anyway, taking his cock to push it between her folds, pressing the tip against her clit.

“Fuck, Dean,” she moaned softly, grasping his shoulders, “you feel… I need you,” she whimpered, rolling her hips along the length of his cock. He moaned with her, moving her hips closer to him, her wetness coating his cock.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, sweetheart…” Dean moaned, watching her lean back against the table, positioning the soft head of his cock to her entrance. Completely enthralled, he watched himself slip inside her, and she watched him, biting her lip hard in concentration, the stretch of her walls around him almost painful. “Fuck… I can feel how bad you need me… I need you just as bad,” he panted, flexing his hands on her thighs, desperately trying not to thrust up into her warmth. He dug his nails into her flesh, his head tipping back, his hips rolling up.

“Dean,” she moaned again, starting to lift herself up and down his cock, reaching up to cup her breast. “Shit, you feel amazing,” she breathed out, grinding her hips against his until he was fully inside her.

“You okay?” He asked, one of hands drifting up to knead her breast comfortingly. She nodded, buried her fingers in his hair and brought him in for a kiss as she bent her knees, and tucked her feet in between his thighs.

“I could cum like this,” she mumbled against his lips. His chuckle rumbled through his chest and he shook his head, her pussy clenched at the sound and she started to lift herself up again.

“Don’t worry,” he told her, sucking on his lip momentarily. “I’ll make you cum so hard…” He paused to moan, thrusting up into her slowly, meeting her hip. “...you’ll never want to fuck anyone else,” he promised her, building up the pace of his thrusts until she stopped moving with him altogether, letting him fuck up into her needy cunt.

“You’ll only wanna be fucked by me,” he continued, watching her lean back with her elbow on the table, her hands roaming his warm body, “and I’ll be there, ready to fuck you hard.” He looked over her shoulder, at the jar of frosting. “Pounding into your sweet cunt,” he swore breathlessly, reaching behind her, dipping his fingers to gather frosting, “makin’ you beg, makin’ you impossibly wet.” He smeared frosting over her nipples, over her collarbone, her sternum, until he had no more while she moaned his name needily.

“Makin’ you feel things you’ve never felt before.” He gripped her hip with frosting-coated fingers, leaning forward to lick and suck the whiskey frosting from her body. “I’ll fill you up as many times as you want,” he vowed, smoothing her hand up her back, into her hair once more, pulling until she whined his name. “I’ll fuck you wherever you want.”

Her pussy continued to gush over Dean’s cock the more he talked—his breathless, husky voice taking her over the edge. Each rough pull of her hair made her mewl and whimper as she rolled her hips desperately against his.

“Dean, please,” she whispered, scratching down his back, digging marks into his skin the harder and faster he thrusted into her. Loud skin slapping, the wet sound of her pussy being penetrated, with every push of his cock in and out of her, squelching and driving her crazy. She dug her nails into her palm, making obscene sounds that made her self-conscious.

“I’ll fuck you all over your house, all over mine.” Another moan of his name, another rough pull of her hair. “I’ll fuck you in my car, in your car, anywhere and all over town.” He pulled away from her sticky chest, licked his lips at the sight of her, so she screwed her eyes shut. She felt a warm pool of wetness on her pelvic bone, opened her eyes to him spitting between their bodies, watching his saliva drip down her folds to her clit.

She’d never heard of or experienced sex quite this raw and dirty.

“I’ll make you scream my name, make you forget how to talk, how to walk…” She leaned back into him, panting into his ear, keeping him close while rubbing her clit. He yanked her hair, forcing her to look at him.

“Dean…”

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he whispered, closing his eyes, he breathed against her lips, “and I want you forever.”

As he promised, she cried out his name when she came, squeezing his cock hard, coating him in her release. He grunted her name, cursing loudly as he came inside her, his hot seed spurting into her, filling her as he said he would.

He circled his arms around her as she writhed once more, releasing her hair as she put her arms around his neck, panting and catching her breath until the pleasure subsided.

“I want all of that,” she murmured after a few moments of silence, kissing his cheek. He squeezed her and moved back, bewildered. He moved hair from her face and tilted his head at her, drawn to her nakedness, her flushed beauty. “First, I want to shower…” Slowly, carefully, she climbed off his lap, her legs shaky, her pussy releasing the mixture of their pleasure.

“That’s a good start,” he told her softly. “Son of a bitch,” he mumbled when he stood up from the chair and looked around at the mess in the kitchen. “No one’s coming home anytime soon… thanks to Sammy…” Dean trailed off, smoothing his hand over his head to fix his hair.

“Thanks to me,” she came clean with a shy smile, bringing his gaze up to hers. His eyes twinkled and he laughed loudly, tugging her towards him again by her arm, his lips pressing against hers.

➥ sempiternal

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