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asahicore · 2 years ago

Text

cherry pits - psh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact

pairing. dad!sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis. Your alarmingly empty bank account forces you to find a last-minute summer job so that you can afford a trip with your friends. The extremely handsome customer that comes into the store just happens to be a young single dad who's renovating the old house next to yours. The tension that settles between the two of you as you start helping him fix up his house soon becomes unbearable, but it's all one-sided anyway, right?

(Spoiler: wrong.)

genre. DILF AUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!, neighbors au, s2l, summer au, slight age gap (reader is 21 and hoon 26), reader is so down bad over sunghoon its actually crazy but also extremely relatable cause this is sunghoon we're talking about, fluff and smut, sex gets freakyyy ngl

word count. 12.9k

a/n. hey sisters had no time to write anything this week so i am coming back (everybody boos) with a repost yayyy!!! i actually love this story idkw i just find it fun so i hope you guys will enjoy rereading / reading it !!!! as always let me know ur thoughts.. even if they're just incomprehensible screaming (bad or good).. im happy w anything ok bye!!!

You’ve always wondered about the ratio of cherry to pit. Such a big pit for so little flesh, isn’t it? Yet that’s never stopped you from biting into the small fruit, eating what you could and spitting out the unwanted part. You actually rather enjoy this whole process. Bite, eat, spit. You could repeat this with huge bowls of cherries at a time until they upset your stomach and you had to stop for your own good.

Bite, eat, spit is exactly what you’re doing when, with a trembling finger, you finally brave to open your banking app and check your balance. It’s the beginning of summer, and after two semesters of intense studying and too-much-coffee drinking, you think you deserve three long months of doing nothing but hanging out in your childhood bedroom and eating the food your parents buy and make. You’re especially looking forward to the vacation in Mexico you have planned with your friends at the end of August.

One look at your bank account and your dreams of white beaches and seas so blue you couldn’t tell them apart from the sky shatter around you, the sad, low numbers on the screen sneering at you mockingly. You were sure you had saved enough money from part-time jobs and generous relatives, but now you regret all of those night-outs and lazy takeaways. If you had cut down on those, maybe you wouldn’t have to go through the hassle of finding a summer job at the last minute, which you would definitely have to do if you wanted to eat something on that dear beach of yours and not just starve to death under the glaring sun.

That was it - tomorrow, you’d go and get a job. Today, however, you’d enjoy your last day of respite and eat some more cherries, or maybe make some jam and a pie so your parents wouldn’t chide you for eating them all, and then go pick some more from the three trees in your backyard. You’d sit outside, enjoying the warmth of the sun while you read or, if you couldn’t be asked, while you listened to the bustle of the old and worn-down house next door being renovated. You’re surprised someone had the courage to buy it and give it a new life, but you assume that’s the kind of courage that comes with having time and money.

Yesterday night, you’d heard a little girl playing outside until her mom called her in saying it was time to go, so you made up a story of your neighbors being newlyweds that had decided they’d had enough of the city and wanted to raise their daughter in a calmer town far from busy streets and loud honks. You could bring them some cherries, maybe in jam or pie form, as a housewarming gift.

Unfortunately, the day passed and you were too busy doing nothing to actually get around to baking, so you decided to do nothing some more and then go to bed, needing rest before your big job hunt.

You’d gravely overestimated the amount of job opportunities in your small hometown, only receiving apologetic looks from the store owners as they tell you they don’t need any help, or worse, already have someone. Damn those 16-year-olds who only get summer jobs so they can blow their whole pay in a couple weeks before school starts again. You, on the other hand, need that money for important things, like sipping on a cocktail at a bar with a seaview.

The local hardware store next to the train station is your saving grace. It looks quite small from the outside, but once you step inside, rows of lamps and mirrors in all shapes and sizes along with all kinds of household needs welcome you, followed by a section for gardening and pet caretaking. The basement is where all the paints and brushes were, as well as the more technical (technical to you, at least) products, like bolts and tools or kitchen and bathroom appliances.

A lot of people undertake renovations in their homes during their free time in the summer, so it’s important for the store to have their experts helping out customers in their dedicated aisles rather than working behind the till and restocking the shelves, which is what you will be doing for the next two months. The pay is slightly above minimum wage and with twenty-one hours of work a week, you’ll earn more than enough to enjoy your vacation. You start tomorrow.

Your co-workers are happy to welcome a new face into their team. They’re nice even if they have the tendency to drone on about different types of tools and the importance of choosing the right brush for the surface you’re painting, which you don’t particularly care about, but you think you might as well learn as much as you can during your time here; it might always come in handy later.

As you expected, it isn’t the most stimulating job ever, but you aren’t bored out of your mind either. You make small talk with customers as they explain their purchases, some more defensively than others, even if you didn’t ask. You make sure to restock the shelves correctly and sometimes ask for help when you feel your arms giving out after hours of carrying heavy stuff. When no one’s in, you like to rearrange the cute bathroom decorations so that they make a little rainbow of toothbrush and soap holders.

You were daydreaming about what you would do with your friends in Mexico and all the cherries you could eat there when a man so handsome you thought he was a part of your dream walks in. He doesn’t notice (or maybe he just ignores it, you’re not sure) your gawking and smiles at you, saying “hello” before turning his attention to the map which details where everything is stored at the entrance of the shop. You manage a small “h-hello” back that probably doesn’t even reach his ears, and you curse yourself for doing a poor job of greeting a customer just because said customer looks like he’s been pushed from the heavens above onto this unworthy earth by the other angels who were jealous of his beauty.

You stay put behind the counter the whole time he’s there to avoid the potential embarrassment of running into him in a random aisle and making a fool of yourself. There isn’t much to do anyway, so you rearrange the organic protein bars and chewing-gum at the counter and count all the money in the cash register to distract yourself. He doesn’t spend a very long time browsing and after twenty minutes, you see him approach with a cart full of the biggest cans of paint the store offers. It’s mostly white paint, but there are some browns and grays, and one of pink as well.

You thank God for those twenty minutes because they allowed you to get a hold of yourself so that you didn’t gape at him like a dead fish instead of scanning his articles, which is what you are very professionally and expertly doing. “That’s a lot of paint,” you comment lightheartedly, partly just to prove to yourself that you can also speak in front of this man.

“I know,” he chuckles, and it seems unfair that his voice should be just as attractive as his face. “The previous owners of the house I just bought had terrible taste in wallpaper and wall colors, so I have to repaint basically the whole house. Everything has to go, really. The floors, the furniture, the lights.”

“Sounds like you’re going to have a busy summer. That’ll be $132.76, please.”

“I’ll pay by card,” he says as he brings his wallet out from his back pocket and inserts his card into the reader, which allows you to look freely at his tanned arms and the veins that protrude here and there. He can’t be older than thirty, so there’s probably not that much of an age difference between the two of you, but damn does he look more mature in the sexiest way possible than all of the male college students you’re used to seeing on a daily basis. If anything, he reminds you of the hot young Linguistics professor your whole department likes to drool over.

The beep of the payment being accepted snaps you out of your daze. “And yeah, it’ll sure be a busy summer. I’ll need a lot of stuff from here, so you might have to get used to seeing me around,” he says with a smile that makes your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this walking Greek god of a man is actually flirting with you, but the glint in his eyes tells you it wasn’t just an off-hand comment.

“I could get used to that,” you surprise yourself by replying confidently, your smile mirroring his as pretty dimples appear on each side of his face.

You hand him the receipt and notice his eyes flickering down to your name tag before trapping yours in his gaze once again. You don’t think you ever want to look away. “I’ll see you around, Y/N,” he says and walks out with his cart and his tons of paint before you can say anything, lest ask his name, except for “see you.”

You take a deep breath in and another out when he’s out of sight, trying to calm your racing heart. You can’t wait to rave to the girls’ group chat about this, but one of your coworkers calls you for help and you have to put the handsome stranger to the back of your mind for a while.

—

That weekend, your parents ask you to do something about the cherries slowly starting to spoil in the fridge, so you put on your headphones and listen to an audiobook for entertainment, then get to pitting. It feels wrong to listen to The Kiss Quotient and its many smut scenes when your parents are coming and going out of the room, but what they don’t know won’t kill them; you just try to keep your reactions to a minimum during the extra spicy scenes.

Pitting cherries is an arduous task that always takes longer than you think it will, but you never complain about it. You’ve found the perfect technique of cutting them in half around the pit, turning the small fruit without squeezing it, extracting the stone and making sure it doesn’t get confused and end up in the bowl with the pitted cherries, all without tiring your wrists after ten minutes. A surprise pit in a cherry pie can add to the charm of a homemade dessert, but you’d rather not have to spit out five of them while trying to eat one slice.

You prepare a crumbly dough to make two classic American-style pies and fill four jars with cherry jam that you cook while the doughs rest. It’s almost offensive how small the cherries become as they cook, the amount that fills those four jars having filled eight before, but you decide there’s no reason to take it personally since the cherries don’t do it on purpose, and put the jars away to cool down. You roll out the first rested dough and despair for a bit when it keeps on falling apart, but it just makes it more satisfying once you have it perfectly thinly rolled out and covering the tin. The second one is a bit nicer to you and you only have to try rolling it out twice.

Two hours later, as the sun finally starts to relent and a cooler breeze flows through the air, the pies are all baked, cooled and ready to be eaten. You leave one for you and your parents to enjoy later, then head over to the next house to greet your new neighbors with the other pie. You knock and wait for a good thirty seconds before getting any sort of response, making you think no one’s in.

“Y/N?” a semi-familiar voice calls out, and your head whips in its direction. If this were a cartoon or a 2012 teen show, you’d probably drop the pie tin, but thankfully, your hands aren’t that sweaty, and the shock of the man from the other day at the store being your neighbor isn’t that great, because of course, of course he’s your neighbor. You’re Y/N, after all; the almighty gods above would never let you have a boring, uneventful summer. Of course the hot new man in town is your neighbor.

“Oh! Hi! Guess we’re neighbors. Ha,” you say with a clumsy smile, holding the tin over your forearm as your other hand shields your eyes from the sunlight so you can look at him without squinting your eyes.

“Neighbors?” he repeats as he joins you on the front porch, taking off his gloves dirtied by the mud and using the back of his hand to wipe off some sweat from his forehead. The sweat makes his hair stick to his face and there are small beads of it falling from his hairline down onto his white t-shirt. You detect the slightest of stubbles on his chin and upper lip, probably from not having shaved for just a day or two. He’s even tanner than when you saw him a few days ago, and his thick eyebrows form a straight line as he frowns in what you guess is tiredness and perhaps confusion from seeing you in regular clothes and holding a pie tin on his porch. For a second, you’re scared he might think you’re some kind of stalker, but you nod and tilt your head towards your house.

“Yep. That one just over there behind you.”

He turns his upper body to take a look at your house and nods slowly as he turns back around, gaze finding yours again like the other day at the store. You have no idea who this man is - hell, you don’t even know his name - but good lord are you attracted to him, especially when he gives you that unreadable smile that shows off his dimples.

“Huh. What a coincidence,” he says, and that could mean anything in the world, but you hope he means it in a good way. “I’m Sunghoon, by the way.” he adds, extending his hand for you to take, which you do, and the simple action of shaking his hand without eye contact ever breaking is enough to send shivers down your spine. Hopefully, this goes unnoticed by this Sunghoon.

A walking wet dream. That’s what this man is. He’s walked right out of your deepest Wattpad-induced fantasies and into the house next door. Probably doesn’t help that you’d been listening to literary porn just fifteen minutes prior.

“Is that pie?” he asks as he releases your hand.

“It is, cherry pie I made myself with cherries from our backyard. A housewarming gift, if you will. Here,” you reply, offering him the tin.

He takes it from your hands, the tips of his fingers slightly grazing yours, on purpose or not, you’re not sure. He lifts some of the aluminum covering the pie and peeks underneath, then hums appreciatively. “Thanks, it looks really good. I’ve been living off of ready-meals and casseroles from the neighbors, so this’ll be really nice.”

“Well we’ve got tons of cherries, so feel free to ask whenever you want some,” you offer, and he nods. A small silence settles between the two of you and you’re about to excuse yourself so it doesn’t get awkward when he invites you in, asking if you’d like to have a piece with him.

“If you want to, I mean. I was gonna take a break anyway,” he says somewhat coyly, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. You’re surprised to see him being anything else other than confident and self-assured, but it only makes him look cuter in your eyes.

“Sure,” you accept with a smile, letting him lead you inside the house.

“Sorry, it smells like paint all over the house. That’s why I was outside, doing some gardening while I aired the house out,” he explains. “Let me just get some plates and a knife out. And something for us to drink. Do you want to drink something? I’ve got water, or some iced tea or lemonade. The grandma across the street made some for me,” he says all at once, and you suppress a giggle at his sudden nervous behavior.

“Sunghoon?”

“Yeah?” he responds almost immediately, turning to you just as you both reach the kitchen.

“Just water is fine.”

A shy smile makes his dimples appear once again as he nods. “Okay, sounds good.” You help him carry everything to the back porch and set down the glasses and a jug of water on a table with two chairs around it.

“The porches are the only parts I won’t have to fix up too much, for some reason.”

“You’re going to redo the whole house yourself?” you ask, surprised, as you pour two glasses of water and he serves you a slice of cherry pie (“there might be some stray cherry pits, so be careful,” you warn as he sets a slice on his plate).

“A lot of it, yeah, but I’ve also got some people to help out. My dad’s a carpenter so I know my way around these things, but I also know it’s better and faster to have more than one man on the job, so some guys he works with come a couple times a week.”

“Yeah, with the state this house is in, you’d need more than a summer if you did everything yourself,” you comment, and he chuckles, agreeing. “My friends and I used to make stories about how this place is haunted, you know,” you say jokingly.

“Please don’t jinx my house from the get-go,” he says, making you laugh.

“Sorry, sorry. It’ll be nice seeing it all fixed-up, actually.”

“Have you lived here long?” he asks, looking at you thoughtfully as he takes another bite of the pie. “This is really good, by the way.”

“Thanks. And yeah, my whole life. I go away when semester starts but come back for the holidays and the summer.”

“So you're a student?”

“Yeah, just at the state university a few hours away. Not too far away that it’s a hassle traveling back, but not too close that I go home every weekend. What about you, what do you do?”

You wait for his answer while he swallows his mouthful and take another bite yourself. “I teach,” he starts as he dabs the corners of his lips with a napkin. “Fifth graders, on the other side of town. I used to live in a small apartment near the school I work at but it’s nicer, having more space. I saved enough money to buy this house and fix it up, so here I am now,” he says, gesturing to the house and the garden with his arms.

You notice his use of the first person pronoun when he talks about where he used to live and his house now, which makes you wonder if it’s just him, even though you were sure you heard a woman and a young girl’s voices the other day. Surely, if he wasn’t single, he wouldn’t have invited you in or given you flirtatious looks, right? Or were you reading totally wrong into this and he was just an exceptionally friendly person?

You put these questions to the side and continue chatting with Sunghoon, letting the subject of his marital status come up on its own during your conversation. And indeed, you get your answer when he tells you about the different parts of the house he plans on having, one of them being a bedroom for his daughter.

“Oh, so you have a daughter? How old is she?” you ask as you take a sip of water, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. Considering his age, you expect that his child will be one, two years old max, so his answer makes you almost choke on your drink.

“She’s turning eight this summer.”

“Eight?” you repeat as you set your glass down, looking at him wide-eyed. So much for nonchalance. “But you’re so-”

“Young? Yeah, I know,” he interrupts with a knowing smile, probably used to this kind of reaction. “I’m 26,” he adds, then watches as you do the simple math in your head. When you turn to him with a surprised look, he answers your question before you’ve even asked it. “Yep, I had her when I was 18.”

“Wow,” is all you can say. “Can I ask what happened?”

“Sure. I mean, it’s nothing extraordinary or anything. I was in my last year of high school, and I got my girlfriend at the time pregnant. We’d only been dating four months but her parents wouldn’t let her get an abortion. They’re really religious. They took care of our baby, with the help of my parents, while I went to community college and she retook senior year since she had to drop out halfway through the year. No, we’re not together anymore, if you’re wondering,” he says, catching you off guard, as if he’d read your thoughts.

He chuckles before sighing and continues. “If none of this had happened, we’d probably have broken up before going off to college and proceeded to forget about each other. We started out living with her parents, then got that small apartment I told you about when she found a job. We’re not on bad terms by any means, but we’ve just not been in love since Chaeryeong turned 2, probably. We’ve been more roommates than a couple for the past six years. And you know, we kept on living together for Chaer mainly, but she’s found a new boyfriend and I wanted to have my own place. Which has led me here.”

You nod slowly, letting the whole story sink in. “You’re both handling this situation really maturely, it sounds like. I’ve heard of so many teenage parents fighting all the time and not taking care of their kids properly.”

“She’s already got a weird parental situation, it’s the least we can do for her to behave like adults, you know.”

“Right, of course,” you say, nodding again. Your hot new neighbor was actually a DILF, you realized a bit inappropriately, perhaps. Cherry on top.

He tells you a bit more about his daughter and you keep talking until your dad calls you, asking you why you’re not home at dinner time, and you only notice then how long you’ve been sitting there with Sunghoon, just talking. You tell him you feel bad for taking up so much of his time but he shakes your apologies off.

“It was my pleasure, really. And thanks again for the pie, I think Chaer will love it.”

He walks you to the front door and calls out your name after you’ve waved goodbye and started walking. You didn’t know you had been expecting him to do anything until you heard the hopeful tone in your own voice. “Yeah?”

“You any good with kids?” he asks, leaning against the doorway with crossed arms and a smirk that makes your heart flutter.

Although you’ve only got one older brother, you have younger cousins as well as older ones that have babies of their own, so you’re not a complete stranger to kids, but more importantly, you like them. They have the world to learn, but they say surprisingly smart things and have really cute faces.

“I’d say that I am, yeah,” you reply, a smile growing on your face, mirroring his expression.

“Good,” he says, and pauses a second for good measure. “I’ll see you later.”

“See you later, Sunghoon,” you say as you turn back and head to your house, letting him enjoy the view of you walking away.

On the short way home, you realize that you completely have the hots for your neighbor, although you probably knew that before. Is it twisted that you like him more now that you know he’s got a kid? Probably a little bit, but you’re not going to fight it. He’s single, after all. And not even thirty. A five-year gap isn’t unheard of.

Your parents ask you where you’ve been as you set the table and get ready for dinner. “Just over at our new neighbor’s house to give him some pie and say hi,” you say as you toss the salad in its bowl, spreading the dressing evenly.

“Ooh, the neighbor,” your mother echoes knowingly, wiggling her eyebrows, and steals a leaf of lettuce when it falls from the bowl because of your vigorous tossing. “We should have him over at some point, welcome him into the neighborhood. I’ve seen him a bit, you know. Out painting on his front porch or when he was in his garden the same time as me. He’s a very attractive young man,” she says, lowering her voice so your dad doesn’t hear even though he’s outside grilling the meat. “Do you know how old he is? Looks a bit young for a homeowner to me, but who knows what young people are up to these days.

“He’s twenty-six, and he’s saved a lot of money. Plus, I don’t think that house was very expensive. From what he’s told me, the renovations will basically cost as much as the house itself. He’s also got a kid.”

“Aw, must be a cute baby,” she says as your father walks in, carrying a tray of steaming barbecued steaks and potatoes.

“She’s eight,” you say bluntly, causing them both to look at you with wide eyes.

“Oh, right, then. Happens,” your mother says, bringing her glass of water to her lips and taking a sip from it. “Is he still with the mother?”

“They broke up a while ago, but they’re on good terms,” you say, and your mom nods slowly at the information.

“So, he’s single, huh?” she says, trying to hide her smile, earning herself a groan from your dad and a chuckle from you.

“C’mon, mom!”

“What? You can’t deny that he’s attractive, and he’s single. Plus, you two must get along well if you spent a couple hours talking. Sure, he’s got a kid, but you love those, don’t you?”

“Mom, you of all people would know kids aren’t pets. Dating someone with an eight-year-old isn’t the same as dating someone with a cat.

“No one’s asking you to be that girl’s mom,” she says, dishing out some meat for the three of you. “I’d go get that man, if I were you.”

Your dad shakes his head and you eat your food as you listen to them bickering with a smile. You think about what your mother said - should you go and get Sunghoon? Your heart says yes, but your brain is a bit more reluctant. Another part of your body, lower down there, is screaming ‘yes’ at you.

He does live right by, after all.

That night, you FaceTime your roommate and best friend from college and bring her up to date about ‘the hot man from the store the other day.’ She paints her toenails but listens intently as she always does when you talk about boys, humming and chuckling here and there.

“God, Y/N, I didn’t know you had daddy issues, of all things.”

You gasp fake-dramatically. “Excuse me, I do not! I was attracted to him before I knew he was a dad, I’ll let you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let me know when you guys actually hook up, I’m curious whether older men are actually better,” she says, making you scoff.

“I hope he is. I’m very much tired of those boys that don’t know where the clit is and use too much tongue.”

“You know, when I complain to my mom about guys, she always tells me to wait it out a few years. She says they get more mature and, well, she didn’t say that outright, but she very heavily implied that the sex is much, much better. Kinda gross hearing it from her, but it’s good information.”

You hum. “Well, he’s not that much older… But let’s hope that it still makes a difference,” you say, and then move on to another topic.

—

One thing that eating cherries has taught you is that if you want to enjoy eating the sweet flesh, you’ll need to deal with the pit as well. Ever the grand philosopher, you realized soon enough that this was applicable to real life and not just your favorite fruit. Wanna get a good grade on your test? Gotta study for it. Wanna go on holiday to Mexico? Gotta find a summer job and earn money.

Wanna make your way to Sunghoon’s bed? Gotta seduce him.

Over the following days, you stand behind the counter at the hardware store, elbow perched on the hard surface, head resting on your palm and vision fuzzy as you daydream about your next encounter with Sunghoon. More often than not, a customer will clear their throat to awkwardly let you know of their presence and you’ll have to exchange your imagined dialogue with Sunghoon for a quick apology and some pleasantries; more often than not, a coworker will call out your name for some help just as you get to the juicy part of your reverie. In those moments, you always feel like you’ve been caught red-handed watching softcore porn, even if no one knows the last thing about what goes on in your head, nor do they care.

Much like the first time he walked into the store, when he does again on a Thursday morning, you think your daydreams have just gone too far and you’re now hallucinating. But, lo and behold, this is the true Park Sunghoon in the flesh, and he smiles and waves at you as he strides in before disappearing behind one of the many aisles.

You spend the next fifteen minutes going over witty conversation starters that will surely make him fall for you, only for you to stutter out a “h-hi, Sunghoon,” when he finally reaches the counter.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he jokes, and you laugh a bit too hard for a comment that isn’t that funny.

“How are the renovations going?” you ask as you scan his articles - some more paint and brushes, lots of tile glue, a bunch of nails and two different sizes of turnscrews. He frowns in concentration at the snacks next to the counter until he caves in and gets a chocolate protein bar that’s more sugar than protein.

“Pretty okay,” he starts. “I’m in a bit of a rush, cause Chaer is already coming in two weeks and I need to have finished at least the interior by that time. My dad’s friends helped me get the roof done, so that’s good, but now they’re all busy with other sites so it's just me. Right now I’m redoing the tiles in the bathrooms. You need so much damn glue,” he says with a chuckle.

You think for a second, then timidly offer, “I could help out, you know. If you needed me to.”

He looks at you with raised eyebrows, halfway through getting his card out of his wallet. “Really?”

“I mean, I don’t have much experience with this kinda stuff, but I’ve picked up a few things here and there from working here. If it saves you time, I could do the easy things. This job isn’t particularly physically demanding so I’ve still got energy at the end of the day. That’s $78.96, please.”

A small smile appears on his face as he inserts his card into the reader. He punches in his code and then returns your gaze. “That could be nice, actually.”

And that’s how you find yourself over at Sunghoon’s house in denim shorts and your dad’s old t-shirts almost everyday for the next two weeks, helping him fix up the old two-storey home. He measures out the perfect length for wood planks or marble tiles that you assist him in fastening to the floors of different rooms and he fixes holes in walls that you paint over afterwards. Sometimes on your breaks, you share a bowl of cherries that you brought from your garden. (One morning, you tried to make cherry juice out of them, but when after almost two hours of pitting the liquid barely filled a glass, you decided that it was too much effort and that you’d keep on just eating them and baking the occasional pie.) You asked him to tell you what each of the rooms upstairs would be and you realized that the window of his room faced yours directly. The blinds were down as they had always been, so you hadn’t known what the room would be.

“I’ve been sleeping on the couch since I haven’t gotten around to fixing up this room yet. Guess I should get to it, though,” he says, giving you a look that blurs the meaning of his words so that you’re not sure what he’s implying, which happens a bit too often with Sunghoon.

And you’d think that spending the better part of two weeks with the current man of your dreams would be amazing, right?

Wrong. It’s unbearable.

Maybe that’s exaggerating it - it’s mostly fun, and sometimes unbearable. Usually, you’re an avid fan of sexual tension, especially with attractive men like Sunghoon. Lingering gazes, eye contacts when there shouldn’t be any, remarks with a deeper meaning that they let on, barely-there touches on the back of your hand or on your waist that manage to take your breath away. These are all very fine things that keep your heart bouncing and a blush on your cheeks, but they are supposed to amount to something more in the end. Maybe you’re impatient, but after two weeks of sending sex through your eyes to Sunghoon, you get the feeling that he doesn’t reciprocate your desire. One afternoon, you’d made sure to go and sunbathe in your bikini at the exact moment he was doing some work outside, and even then, he merely gave your body a one-over and disappeared a few minutes later inside his house. When he came back about ten minutes later, he could still barely look at you.

At the same time, there’s no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing when he stands close behind you, letting you feel the warmth of his chest against your back, big, rough hands enveloping yours as he demonstrates how to cut a plank of wood with the machine. There’s no way the way he smirks when the action turns you into a stammering mess is innocent, either.

Yet nothing happens. The tension is thick enough to be cut with a knife, but maybe Sunghoon hasn’t bought cutlery yet. The air is already heavy from the heat and the relentlessness of the sun, but this thing between you and him makes it almost suffocating, in somehow the best yet worst way possible. You’re this close to simply throwing your naked body at him, and it doesn’t help that you see his flexing, working muscles and beads of sweat on his hairline everyday. On the days he wears shorts, which is most days, all you can think of is getting off on his thick thighs, of his hands holding you tightly by the waist, of the way he’d look at you, eyes clouded over, of the words he’d whisper in your-

Your phone buzzes, interrupting you in your horny downward spiral. It’s your dear mother telling you to come home for dinner. As you pick up your phone, a second buzz. Ask Sunghoon if he wants to eat with us.

You find him in his bedroom, adding the last touches to the walls. “I think I’ll be able to sleep here starting tomorrow night. I just need to go buy a bed,” he says when he sees your figure standing in the doorway.

“We can go together if you want,” you blurt before you can stop yourself. Hoping it’ll make you seem less weird, you add, “I’ve got really good taste in furniture.”

“Is that so?” he questions, turning to you with a smile. “I’d appreciate the second pair of eyes, actually. There’s a lot of things I need to get.”

“Yeah, I didn’t wanna comment on it, but I think you’ll end up needing more than a couch, a plastic dining table and two chairs,” you tease, making him roll his eyes lightheartedly. “We can go to that huge second-hand store they have just outside of town. You’ll be surprised how good - and cheap - the furniture is there.”

“Sounds good,” he nods, and checks his watch. “Are you going home?”

“I am. My mom’s invited you over for dinner, if you’d like,” you say, tilting your head at him.

He raises his eyebrows in delighted surprise. “I’d love to. Just need to shower first.”

“That’s fine. I’ll go home, just come over whenever you’re ready.” You exchange quick see you laters and you head home, taking a shower yourself and making sure to use your best-smelling body lotion.

Sunghoon arrives half an hour later with a bouquet of roses in his hands and an award-winning smile on his face. You let him in and he greets your parents, offering your mother the bouquet. “Sorry I took so much time getting here, I wanted to pick these out as a thank you.”

You can tell your mother is pleased to the heavens as she waves him off, leading him inside your house. “That’s awfully nice of you, Mr Park-”

“Call me Sunghoon, please,” he says with a warm smile.

“Right, Sunghoon. And no worries, you’re just on time. Please, sit.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Oh, no, you’re working all day fixing up that house, just sit and relax. We’re very happy to have you over, aren’t we?” your mother says, sending a very obvious smile your way, which makes you furrow your eyebrows and shake your head lightly at her, silently telling her to shut up. Sunghoon chuckles at the exchange but says nothing and you want to bury yourself and your mother ten feet underground.

Sunghoon sits across from you at the dinner table, which allows you to stare unabashedly at him as he works his charm on your parents. He’s the neighbor, so technically, he’s not a boyfriend you brought home to meet them, but still, you can’t help but compare him to those few boys that you did bring home. None of them were a disaster, but none of them went as smoothly as this, either. There were always some awkward silences and dry chuckles with your past boyfriends, but Sunghoon clearly knows how to make parents happy. Maybe because he lived with his ex’s parents for so long, or maybe because he’s a parent himself. Either way, it only adds to your desire to take all of his clothes and let him rail you into next week. Too bad he clearly doesn’t feel the same way, you remind yourself with an audible sigh, which makes him look curiously at you, but you brush it off with a smile.

You watch as he accepts a beer, compliments the food and the house, talks football with your dad, accepts another beer, and shares teaching anecdotes with your mom, who herself is an elementary school teacher. You jump in every now and then when you have something witty to add or someone asks your opinion on something, but most of the time, you sit back and enjoy, happy that everything is going well.

You bring out your infamous cherry pie that you’d baked the previous day along with some vanilla ice cream for dessert, and smile when Sunghoon tells you how much he’d been waiting to have some of it again, trying not to blush as his gaze stays focused on yours for a second too long. Thankfully, your parents don’t notice, too busy cutting themselves a slice.

He stays for another hour or so, until the sun has set and the streetlamps and the moonlight are the only things keeping the world visible. Your mom forces him to accept tupperwares full of leftovers from the night and makes him promise to come back with his daughter. Sneakily, she tells you to help him carry the tupperwares home even though he’s more than able to do it himself, then hugs him goodbye, hurrying you out of the door.

Sunghoon hasn’t yet changed the lightbulbs to more efficient ones, so his kitchen bathes in the faint glow of the overhead lighting as you put away the leftovers in his fridge. He stands a bit to your right close behind you, closer than needed to simply hand you the tupperwares he was holding. When everything is stored, you turn around, but you’re trapped between his body and his arm that holds the fridge door open. With his free hand, he takes you by the waist and pulls you gently towards him. “Careful,” he says so quietly, it’s almost a whisper, and closes the fridge door behind you.

He’s never been this forward with you, and even though you’ve fantasized many times about this exact moment, now that it’s really happening, you don’t know what to do except to search for an explanation in his eyes. His eyes that are looking right into yours and are a bit clouded over, from the alcohol or the proximity between the two of you or both, you don’t know, but that also have the twinkle of a smile in them.

His lips are close enough to kiss, you think, and as if on cue, his gaze drifts down to your slightly parted lips. “You’re very pretty, Y/N,” he says, before sealing your lips with his own. You respond immediately to his kiss - you’ve thought too much about it to stand there and do nothing - but it’s all so slow and so soft that you’re not sure if it’s actually happening, so dreamlike it all feels.

You’re called back to reality when his other hand finds your waist, your own hands coming up to his shoulders before one of them snakes its way to the nape of his neck, tugging lightly at his hair. This seems to change something in Sunghoon, who all of a sudden tightens his hold on your waist, his arms wrapping around it to bring you closer to him. His kiss gets faster and deeper too, and, to your surprise but not your distaste, a bit desperate. You’re happy if you have on him half of the power he has on you. You taste sweet vanilla ice cream and tangy beer on his tongue, and it’s not at all unpleasant. It makes you want to eat cherries together so you can then taste them in his kiss.

A lustful sigh escapes your lips and then the warmth disappears all at once. Sunghoon looks at you like you just woke him up from a deep slumber and takes a step back away from you. You call out for him worriedly and the sound of his name seems to make him think he did something terribly wrong.

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N, I don’t know what came over me. We shouldn’t do this, it’s not- I shouldn’t have done that,” he sighs, looking defeatedly at the ground.

“Why?” you ask quietly, almost inaudible.

“You should go home,” he snaps, then closes his eyes as if in pain, cringing at his harsh tone. “I’m sorry. I think you should go home, it’s getting late,” he repeats, softer this time, but the words still sting.

“O-okay,” you say to the floor, already feeling tears well up in your eyes. You feel like you just got rejected by your high school crush, and the humiliation makes you want to crawl into a hole and die.

Sunghoon sighs again. “I’ll let you know tomorrow about the furniture shopping, yeah? Chaeryeong is coming in the morning so we can go with her.”

“O-okay,” you repeat, surprised he still wants to do that with you. “Good night, Sunghoon,” you say without looking at him and scurry out of his house.

“Good night, Y/N,” Sunghoon answers to the emptiness after you’ve left, touching his lips with the tips of his fingers and feeling the ghost of your kiss there.

—

Truth be told, you haven’t always loved cherries. Because of a heinous lie your older brother had made you believe when you were just six years old, you hadn’t eaten cherries for two summers in a row. It was the summer your parents had finally allowed you to eat cherries as they came from the trees in your backyard - beforehand, they’d been too scared that you’d choke on the pit or swallow it unknowingly, and had always prepared purées or other forms that cherries can take for you to eat, so to be finally handed the small fruit and told “go ahead, try it,” felt like an honor.

A simple “don’t forget to spit out the pit” from your mother had sufficed for you to be careful, and yet, your brother had thought a fear tactic would be more effective. “If you swallow it, a tree will grow inside your belly and make you puke out cherries,” he’d lied when it was just the two of you at the outdoor table.

“Really?” you asked him in disbelief, horror written all over your face as you looked at the seemingly harmless yet deadly fruit in your hand. You’d already eaten two and were in the middle of eating a third; your brother nodding ‘yes’ in response was all it took for you to spit out the cherry furiously and immediately start sobbing, afraid you’d swallowed one even though all three pits were right there on the table, a guarantee that no unwanted flora would grow inside of you.

Your mother rushed outside at the sound of your wailing and quickly put two and two together when she saw your brother laughing uncontrollably while you hid your face in your hands, desolately imagining your future as a walking cherry tree. She held you tight in her arms as she told your brother off and reassured you that he was just playing a stupid prank on you. Still, the simple thought of swallowing a pit had terrified you and you were unable to eat cherries for the remainder of the summer and the one after that.

This is the story you tell Chaeryeong and her dad as the three of you sit outside together, making them laugh - although, a few minutes later, when Sunghoon is gone to the bathroom away, Chaer leans over the table and whispers, “It’s not true, is it?” so you reassure her that you’ve eaten cherries your whole life and have never had one single root take life in your tummy.

It’s been a bit over a week after you shared that kiss in his kitchen, and the awkward atmosphere is just starting to fade. You’re glad he didn’t ignore you after that night, even if pretending nothing happened when both of you are very aware that something did happen is only the slightly better alternative. It’s a refreshing change from boys that sleep with you and then act like you don’t exist, for sure.

The kiss hasn’t done anything to burst the tension; if anything, it’s made it even more electric. You catch him looking at your lips more than once and you wonder why he still acts the same way as before when he’s made it very clear he didn’t think kissing you was a good idea. Catching him shirtless one night in his bedroom doesn’t help, and neither does him catching you staring at him - you’d quickly shut the curtains, but it was too late, and he’d seen you ogling his toned chest and abs.

At least, the fact that Chaeryeong is here forces a bubbly atmosphere upon you, and you hope you’re not crazy when you notice him fondly looking at the both of you interacting. Chaer is an outgoing little girl and seems to have liked you as soon as you complimented the toy puppy in her hand, saying you used to have the same and it was your favorite.

The day you went food shopping was practically hell to get through. One evening, you were holding onto Sunghoon for dear life, finally kissing him, and the next afternoon, you were browsing through the endless aisles of your local IKEA, holding his daughter’s hand and pretending like you hadn’t kissed her daddy.

When it got to the bedroom part of the store, you and Chaer decided to try all the mattresses and find the most comfortable one. You usually were never one for seating and laying on random beds in stores, but there was a kid with you, so you were sure it’d be fine. When you found the one you liked most, you looked up at Sunghoon from your position and said, “This one’s pretty good, Sunghoon.” His immediately reddening cheeks told you everything you needed to know and you quickly sat up, clearing your throat. He tested the mattress by pushing his palm against it and muttered a “yeah, it’s pretty good” before scribbling down the number of the mattress onto the small sheet of paper customers use to remember which products they wanted.

Of course, now that Chaer is with him and most of the work in the house is done, save for some minor things that Sunghoon can finish up on his own, you spend a lot less time together. You hate that you miss him so much. You miss the way he makes you feel, like your whole body is on fire with just one look or one touch, the way his stupid jokes make you laugh or how endeared he looks when he talks about his daughter. Seeing him with her only adds to your stupid crush - he’s doting, protective and caring, makes sure she has everything to be happy and manages to treat her at once like the kid that she is but also like a human that has opinions and feelings. He’s a really good dad, and that does nothing whatsoever to stop your DILF fantasies, although now, it’s really Sunghoon that you want, and the fact that he’s a dad isn’t a dealbreaker, it just makes him that much better.

You hate that you miss him, and yet being with him is somehow worse, because you can’t do any of the things you want to do. You fall asleep one two many nights dreaming about his lips and how nice it’d be to feel them again - on your lips, on your neck, everywhere. You want to feel him everywhere, and this longing lust is starting to drive you crazy. You’d never wanted anyone this much.

He invites you over for dinner one night, and the look he gives you when he opens the door sends a shiver right down your spine. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi, Sunghoon.”

He leads you into the kitchen with a hand on your waist, even though you’ve been in his house many times before and need no assistance getting there. A small, horny voice at the back of your head tells you that tonight may be the night, but you quickly shut it down, not wanting to get your hopes up all on your own.

Sunghoon serves you a glass of red wine, and you ask him what the occasion is. “Just to celebrate the house being almost done,” he answers with a smile.

Dinner would have gone as usual if Sunghoon wasn’t practically staring you down the whole time, eyes full of something you can’t quite put your finger on and that drives you crazy. His gaze lingers on you every time you speak, and he punctuates the syllables of your name like he’s trying to get a feel for them on his tongue.

Your heart is pounding in your chest when the clock strikes nine p.m. and it’s time for Chaeryeong to go to bed - you don’t know if you’ll be able to handle being alone with Sunghoon, and you might have to make a run for it, Cinderella-style.

Chaer goes to the bathroom to wash up and change into her pajamas, and when she comes back, she asks - no, demands - that you’re the one who tucks her in, and who are you to say no to the cutest little girl on Earth? She holds you by the pinky as she drags you up the stairs to her room then buries herself in her covers, tapping on the bed next to her body for you to sit there. “Okay, now we can talk without Dad around,” she says all business-like.

She tells you about the boys at her school and the birthday party she went to last week and the latest drama with her friends. The both of you are too busy chatting and giggling to hear footsteps coming up the stairs and stopping at her door, hiding behind the wall. After ten minutes, she yawns loudly and says, “Can you call Dad? I think he’ll be sad if he doesn’t wish me good night.”

“Of course,” you reply and kiss her on the forehead, wishing her a good night yourself. You’re only half-surprised to find Sunghoon at the doorway, waiting for his cue.

“Wait up for me, yeah? I’ll just be a minute,” he says, that smile still on his lips, that smile that keeps you hoping.

“Okay,” you whisper, and head downstairs, nervously taking a sip from your wine glass as you wait for him on the living room couch.

He is indeed back in a very short time, too short a time for your nerves to settle, so when he sits down close to you on the couch, body turned towards yours, you can feel your heart in your throat. He traces the rim of his glass with the tip of his pointer finger and you both watch the slow movement for a bit, a heavy silence hanging over both of your heads. You wait for him to talk because you’re too scared of what you might say if you start the conversation.

“Y/N, I’ve been thinking,” he starts shakily, “about um, our kiss, the other day-”

“Oh, we don’t need to talk about that,” you quickly interrupt, waving your hand in dismissal at him. “You made it clear you didn’t like it-”

“No, that’s the thing-”

“And that you thought it was a bad idea-”

“No, just listen-”

“So let’s just forget about it, and-”

“Y/N,” Sunghoon says in a stern voice, raising his tone just enough to make you stop in your rambling.

“Yeah?” you look up at him, eyes wide open. Expecting, as always.

“I haven’t once stopped thinking about that kiss,” he says, sounding out-of-breath. “I handled it awfully, and I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I didn’t like it, because, God, I liked it. A lot,” he chuckles. “Maybe even too much.”

There they are, the words you’ve been dying to hear. Yet all you can say is a stupid “Oh.”

“I just… I was tipsy, and Chaeryeong was coming the next morning, and I panicked. I didn’t know what to do for the rest of the week, and you didn’t say anything, so I didn’t, either. But I can’t pretend like it isn’t there.”

“Like what isn’t there?” you echo, voice almost low as a whisper.

“You know… this,” he replies, voice as low as yours. Slowly, one of his hands comes up to trace your jawline. You release a shaky breath as you set your wine glass on the coffee table and rest your hand on his knee.

“Are you sure about this? ‘Cause if you tell me that you want me… then I’ll be all yours, Sunghoon,” you murmur, hands slowly sliding up his thigh. He takes you by the wrist and puts your hand right on top of his already growing erection, letting you know exactly how he feels about you.

“God, can’t you see what you do to me? I want you so bad, Y/N,” he almost growls, and with that, his lips are on yours, trapping you into a kiss far hungrier and more ferocious than the previous kiss, your mutual intentions finally laid out in front of you for you both to see.

Sunghoon wastes no time as he grabs you by the waist and brings you to his lap, sitting you on top of his crotch so that you can feel his hardening cock against your core. The kiss turns desperate in mere seconds, and you’re relieved to see that Sunghoon seems to have been waiting for this as long and with as much ardor as you have. Your hands are fisting his hair, tugging almost harshly, while his hands roam the expanse of your back until they settle on your ass, grabbing at it to press you closer to him. You can’t stop yourself from moaning into his mouth when his erection rubs over your core in just the right way, and he takes that opportunity to add tongue to the kiss, deepening it.

You start to grind yourself against him, which he helps you do by slightly rutting his hips into yours and bringing your ass closer at every movement. Quickly, you fall into a rhythm so perfect and that feels so good, you think you might explode right then and there. Forget riding his thigh, this is infinitely better.

Needing to catch your breath, you pull away from the kiss, but your lips find his jaw immediately and you start pressing wet, needy kisses there and down his neck, sucking in some spots so that light bruises appear. “Fuck, Y/N, that feels so nice,” he breathes, eyes shut closed. His scent drives you crazy, and his small praise makes you double down on your actions, almost biting the soft skin of his neck.

As you continue kissing him there, occasionally returning to his lips for more, his hands roam your thighs and then up your back, snaking themselves under your t-shirt and finding the clasp of your bra, quickly doing away with it. He pulls away just so he can help you out of your top and takes your bra off of you, hands caressing your sides as he admires your half-naked body in all its glory. You take his hands and bring them to your chest, resting your hands on top of his as you continue grinding onto him and let him play with your boobs. “You’re so fucking hot,” he practically moans, making you chuckle. You reach for the hem of his t-shirt, because it’s only fair that you get to see him too, and you bite back a moan when he uses the absence of your hands on his to pinch your nipples lightly, then takes one in his mouth, catching you off-guard. You forget all about your plan of undressing him as his tongue flicks at the perked bud, your hands finding his hair again as you moan unabashedly.

“S-Sunghoon,” you breathe, the combined feelings of his now fully hard cock pressing against your clothed but soaking cunt and of his warm mouth around your nipples really getting to your head and making you see stars, so that all you can say is his name. “Please,” you beg, you’re not sure what for. Mercy, perhaps. Or release.

“Please what, baby?” he asks, and the nickname goes straight to your core.

“I don’t- just, please, Sunghoon, please,” you say incoherently, making him chuckle.

“Okay,” he says as if he can read your mind, and you think he actually does when he lays you down on the couch, fingers finding the zipper of your shorts. He unbuttons them and slides them down your legs along with your soaked panties. He makes sure they’re fully off of your body before running his palms up both of your legs, from your ankles to your hips.

“Don’t tease, please,” you plead, too desperate for him to take his time.

“As you wish, princess,” he smirks, and brings a finger to your folds, sliding it down to gather some slick before pushing it inside your hole. Your back arches as an instant response to his touch and you let out a small whine, already craving for more. “Fuck, so wet, and all for me, yeah?” he questions, his eyes not once leaving your glistening pussy.

“Yes,” you breathe out, mind too fuzzy to produce a longer sentence.

“That’s a good girl,” he coos, and adds another finger, pushing all three of his knuckles in and massaging your sweet spot as soon as he finds it. When he’s found a rhythm for his motions, he finally looks up at you and curses himself for not having watched your face earlier. Head tilted back in pleasure, mouth agape as your breathing gets more and more irregular and eyebrows scrunched together, you look like the definition of sex, and it takes everything in Sunghoon to not start touching himself.

He forces himself to look away from you only to focus back on your pussy and notices your swollen clit that is begging for attention. He licks it tentatively, and when your back arches at the feeling of his tongue on you, he dives in completely, licking a stripe up your folds before wrapping his lips around the bud and sucking at it like he did with your nipples earlier. The pace at which his fingers are pumping out of you quickens and you’re pulling so hard at his hair, you think you might rip some strands off. You feel yourself getting close, and you’re reminded of all those frustrating encounters with college boys where they stopped right before you came, so you can’t stop yourself as you desperately chant “oh my God please don’t stop please don’t stop,” not even noticing the way you’re holding his head down against your clit and bucking your hips into his face.

Your orgasm hits you like a truck - this is probably the first one you’ve received from someone other than your own hand or your vibrator in the past year and a half. It takes your breath away, and you’re left gasping for air for a good thirty seconds, your mind reeling from the intensity of such pleasure. When you calm down, you lift your head to look at Sunghoon who’s already watching you with a grin on his face, your slick coating his chin and mouth.

You plop your head back down with a groan when realization hits you. “I’m sor-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Sunghoon commands, hands rubbing your still-trembling thighs. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” he marvels, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Really?”

“Really.”

After another couple of seconds, you sit up on the couch and send Sunghoon a mischievous look. My turn, you think, and if his smile is any indicator then he seems to have understood. “Let me thank you,” you say, gesturing at him to sit up himself as you lower yourself to your knees on the couch in front of him.

You look up at him from between his thighs then unclasp his belt and undo his jeans. He lets out a shaky breath and says, “You don’t need to do this, you know-”

“Don’t be a gentleman, Sunghoon. I want to do this and I know you want it too. It’s pretty obvious,” you tease as you run your hand over his erection, watching in delight as his eyebrows furrow and his eyes close. “Now help me get these off of you.” He nods and raises his hips so you can take his jeans and underwear off, imitating his actions from before as you take your time to get them over his ankles and caressing his legs until they reach his crotch, watching as he takes his t-shirt off as well so that you can finally see him entirely. You’d caught glimpse of him shirtless before as he worked in his garden, but the sight still manages to take your breath away. Taut muscles and sun-tanned skin, laid bare right before you. This is what they mean by sculpted like a Greek god, you think.

You haven’t done anything, yet his head is already laid back against the top of the couch, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he gulps in expectation and chest rising visibly at every intake of breath. You must’ve saved a thousand souls in your previous life to be deserving of such an image.

You spit in your palm before taking him, starting out by slowly moving your hand up and down his shaft, then rubbing small circles against his tip, the small moan-like sighs that leave his lips letting you know you’re doing a good job. You gather some saliva in your mouth and spit on his length to add some lubricant and smirk when he lets out a low fuck. You bring your head closer and lick his balls, taking one at a time in your mouth and sucking very gently, making the volume of his moans increase. “Just like- fuck, just like that, Y/N.”

You then lick a long stripe up his cock and swirl your tongue around his tip when you reach it, humming at the taste of precum there. Sunghoon gathers your hair in a makeshift ponytail so it doesn’t get in your way, and finally looks down at you, blown away by the beautiful sight of your flushed cheeks and your mouth around his cock. He groans when you take him deeper and unconsciously bucks his hips into your throat, making you gag around him. He loves that feeling but doesn’t want to hurt you so he grabs your face and makes you look up at him, lust and worry written all over his face as he apologizes, but you quickly stop him. “It’s okay, I like it. You can do it again,” you say, and smile before wrapping your lips around him once more.

“Fuck, are you sure?” he asks and you hum, sending vibrations all over his body.

“God, o-okay,” he says, in disbelief that you’re okay with him practically fucking your throat and even liking it. And you do like it - you love letting him use your mouth to get off, just like you had earlier with him. He must have amazing core strength because he’s able to buck his hips into your mouth rapidly as he holds your head tight in his hands. The way you keep coming back for more every time he lets you breathe is enough to drive him crazy, but after a couple minutes, he stops you from taking him in your mouth again.

“I can’t- I don’t wanna cum like this,” he breathes, looking just as fucked-out as you do.

“Where, then?” you ask, kissing him all over his thighs as he trails his fingers through your hair. “Inside?”

He groans at the offer but shakes his head, eyes shut as if trying to calm himself down. “I haven’t got any condoms.”

“I’m on the pill,” you tell him, still pressing kisses on his warm skin. You’re far too desperate to feel him inside you to let a lack of condom stop you, especially when you don’t even need one.

He lets out an umpteenth shaky breath and makes you look up at him. “Are you sure?”

“Sunghoon,” you say, looking him dead in the eyes, “I’ve never been more sure of anything.” You’re relieved when he smiles and nods, bending down to trap your lips in a heated kiss for good measure. Something about being in this position, kneeling in front of his spread thighs and having to look up at him, turns you on even more.

“Okay, then,” he says, still smiling as he pulls away, holding you gently by the chin. “I don’t think I’ll be able to last long, and I want to feel you cum around me. So, tell me, what’s your favorite position, princess?”

The question takes you aback but you answer it anyway, looking at the ground. “Reverse cowgirl…” you admit shyly, a small smile spreading on your lips.

“Reverse cowgirl, huh?” Sunghoon repeats, and you don’t need to look at him to know he’s smirking. “Come here, then,” he says, and helps you up, making you turn around so your back faces him and seats you down on top of him, keeping your hips raised. He takes his cock inside his hands, pumps it a few more times before guiding it to your entrance, pressing kisses to your shoulders and nape to make you relax.

You moan at the simple feeling of his tip teasing your entrance and Sunghoon whispers “I know, baby” against your skin. “Sit down for me,” he commands gently, and you oblige, lowering your hips slowly to feel all of him stretching you out, the both of you moaning in synchronization when he bottoms out.

Sunghoon wraps an arm around your middle and pulls you onto him so that your back rests against his chest and you can let your head hang back next to his. “Let me do all the work, yeah?” he murmurs into your ear, and you hum in response. He doesn’t move for a bit, roaming his large hands all over your body until he feels your walls relax around him. One of his hands finds your breasts, playing with each nipple in turn, while the other finds your clit. It’s all so much but so good that you’re already a moaning mess before he’s even started moving. “Ready?” he asks, but you’re too far gone to answer.

His pace starts out slow, but you’re impatient and whine as you try to move your hips against his to go faster, which makes him tut. “I told you I’d do the work, didn’t I?” he asks, pinching one of your nipples in reprimand. “So be good for me and stay still, Y/N. I promise I’ll make you feel good.” You whine again but stop moving, heeding his words.

“Perfect,” he whispers and kisses your neck before picking up the pace, shushing you when your moans get too loud.

“I’m sorry, just feels too good,” you manage to let out.

“I know, but you need to stay quiet, baby,” he says, yet gets rougher with his thrusts, which does not help in the slightest. His hand that was on your breasts comes up to cover your mouth, but he quickly decides to make you suck on two of his fingers instead, muffling your moans a bit.

His fingers on your clit haven’t relented this whole time and after just a few minutes, you feel that familiar knot tying itself again in your stomach and you know you’re mere moments away from it coming undone. Judging by his rapid but clumsy thrusts, Sunghoon must be close too. He pounds into you like you’ve been wanting him to ever since you first set eyes on him as he entered the hardware store, hitting your g-spot over and over again. Tears roll down your cheeks and you whimper around his fingers, biting down on them as your second orgasm hits you.

You’re practically sobbing as he helps you ride out your high, his movements sending your body into pleasant overstimulation until he reaches his high too, the feeling of your pussy clenching tightly around him pushing him over the edge. Ropes of his semen paint your walls white, and there’s enough of it for him to become a father of two. You whine as he pulls away, and feel his cum slipping out of you and onto the couch underneath you. Before you can catch your breath, he asks, “Baby, can I do something very dirty?” and you nod without thinking much. This man could do anything he wanted to you, and you’d thank him for it.

He settles you back down onto the couch, kneels on the floor, head level with your core, and sticks his tongue inside your hole, making you yelp in surprise and overstimulation. You don’t understand what he’s doing until he comes back up and makes you open your mouth with his thumb, then spits inside it, telling you to swallow. You do as he says and taste his cum, laughing in disbelief at what he just did - and at how much you liked it. “Fuck,” you giggle.

“Was that too much?”

“God, no,” you say, and he smiles. You open your arms, gesturing for him to get back on the couch. He rests his head between your breasts, the both of you sighing in contentment as he rubs small circles on your belly and you graze your fingers through his hair. He’s so silent that you think he’s fallen asleep, but he speaks up after a while, voice soft and calm like you’ve never heard before.

“We should go get cleaned up…” he says, and you hum in agreement, “...but it’s so nice here,” he finishes, making you giggle.

“If we get cleaned up quickly now, we can cuddle in bed right afterwards,” you argue.

“You’re right. Infallible logic. You’re so smart, you know that, Y/N?” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Of course I know that,” you joke. “Let’s go,” you say, kissing the top of his head.

You take a shower together, cleaning each other and leaving kisses here and there, or touching in places you shouldn’t touch and that maybe lead to more, right there in the shower. Now that you’ve had a taste, you’re insatiable, and you warn Sunghoon that the both of you are in for a very long night, to which he answers that he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Once you do fall asleep, (which isn’t until two rounds later, and you’re surprised either of you have this much energy), however, you’re holding each other tightly, the fan on high so that you don’t feel all sticky, being so close to each other. Even if you wake up here and there because he shuffled or he snored too loudly, it’s one of the best sleeps you’ve ever had.

—

You wake up the next morning by small giggles and snorts that come from none other than Park Chaeryeong herself, who’s buried herself between you and her dad, shaking her body to wake the two of you. You’re glad that you listened to Sunghoon when he told you to put on a t-shirt of his as well as some underwear so neither you or Chaer would have a fright when she came and woke you up as she liked to do every morning. “You had a sleepover!” she exclaims excitedly when she sees you’ve finally opened your eyes, looking at her with a sleepy expression and a smile.

“We did!” you reply, trying to keep the same level of excitement.

“We did,” Sunghoon repeats, taking his daughter in her arms to hug her tightly and blows a raspberry in her neck to make her laugh.

“You didn’t invite me!” she shrieks when her dad’s left her alone.

“Sorry, sweetheart. It was just me and Y/N.”

“No fun,” she pouts, laying on her back and crossing over arms before turning back to her dad. “So, is Y/N my new mom?” she whispers even though you’re right there. You gasp at her question, making wide eyes at Sunghoon who just snorts, and you can’t tell if she’s genuinely asking or if she’s an eight-year-old with an advanced sense of irony.

“Of course not. Is Heeseung your new dad?” he asks, mentioning his ex’s new boyfriend. Chaer shakes her head.

“No. He’s Mommy’s boyfriend.”

“Exactly, and Y/N is Daddy’s girlfriend. Isn’t she?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you, smirking.

“She is,” you reply, and Chaer turns back to you, giggling. She snuggles close to you, wrapping an arm around your middle, and you’re taken aback by the sheer cuteness of it all. You look at Sunghoon with a fake pained expression, and he smiles endearingly at the two of you before sighing and joining you in your hug. He rests his arms around you and his daughter, kissing the top of your heads in turn.

“My girls,” he mutters in your hair, and you smile peacefully.

There’s a lot of things you have to talk about with Sunghoon. You know your parents - especially your mom - will be okay with the two of you together, but will his parents be? And once semester starts again, what will happen? You’ll have to go back to campus and he’ll have to stay here - will a three-hour drive be a dealbreaker, or will you make it work?

The thing is, there’s no point in thinking about all of this at this moment. You’ve got the whole summer to figure things out. For now, you’ll eat cherries and spit out the pits, and everything will be perfect.

this is a one shot, there will not be a part two!

permanent taglist: @k-ingzo @bbujiikseu @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts (ask to be removed/added!)

#enhypen x reader #sunghoon x reader #enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #enhypen hard hours #sunghoon hard hours #sunghoon fluff #enhypen fluff #enhypen fanfiction #sunghoon fanfiction #enhypen imagines #sunghoon imagines

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bitchlessdino · 2 months ago

Text

put it in writing (m)

In collaboration with @camandemstudios Pairing: college student!seungkwan x Fem!TA!reader Genre: humor, smut Word count: 7.8k tags: college au, TA x student dynamic, push-and-pull, mentions of TXT's soobin, mentions of Ryan Gosling, a lot of fucking lying, explicit content, unprotected sex, hair pulling, cream pies, oral, cum-consumption, pet names (baby, good boy), praise kink Summary: You keep things professional--as you should--even if one of your students is someone you hooked up with one night before the college semester started. Meanwhile, Boo Seungkwan is anything but honest--he's a writer after all--but if he is honest about one thing, it's about wanting to write a new story with you. a/n: thank you @highvern @sluttyminghao and @strxwberry-skiess for beta reading <3 (late note: I wanna thank @gyuswhore @highvern and @haologram for the brainstorming if I forgot to mention anyone I’m sorry. They’ve been a really big help and we’re super motivating and supportive the entire process I love yall 💕)

You don’t go out. Period. As simple as that.

Until tonight.

Summer is almost over, and once it ends, you’ll be Professor Yoo’s newest TA. You've worked hard to get to this point and despite the inevitable late-night grading sessions, you expect the experience to be rewarding and maybe even inspirational. You’re sure this achievement would make your academic-forward parents proud. Their daughter, at the top of her class, brimming with excitement and potential, jobs coming in from left and right, all while on her way to...a Writing degree.

The one downside: they didn’t believe a writing degree would lead to anything substantial. Not like Biomedical engineering or Accounting. The one degree worse than Art. You almost forgot that writing was useless in their eyes because who couldn’t just pick up a pen and paper to scribble some words down?

You down another cheap shot of tequila, muttering your grievances under your breath as your friends revel in the club's pulsating atmosphere. They are only mildly concerned with your drinking habits, accustomed to your tightly wound, studious nature. Typically, you are the one buried in textbooks, rarely venturing into the party scene. Yet tonight, you surprise them all with your ironclad liver, effortlessly downing shots without a hint of a stumble.

“You, okay?”

You scoff, taking yet another shot, “Really depends what that means. ‘Okay’ as in life or ‘okay’ as in financially, mentally, emotionally, sexually, and-slash-or physically fulfilled with proud parents that love me unconditionally?”

“Oh, boy.” Hyeri tries to tear you away from any more alcohol and lays you flat against the back of the leather booth, twisting the top of a water bottle before putting it on your lips. “Let's get you hydrated, hmm? Can’t have you hungover the next day. I’ll be the one you’re complaining to.”

“Suffer my consequences!”

“Of course, darling.”

Hyeri, your steadfast friend since high school and now a new TA from another university, is like a sister to you. She knows your every habit and inclination, no matter how shit-faced you decide to get. “Don’t look, but there’s supple skin, high cheekbones, and a pretty smile looking directly at you.”

You subtly fix your gaze and accidentally meet the young man’s eyes as he nurses a highball glass between his lips. His eyes narrow back at you with interest. You muse back at him, mimicking his action with the water bottle in your grasp. As you drink with your eyes glued on his expression, the water passes over your lips, with the excess trickling suggestively down your chin and neck, your skin glistening in its sheen.

His lips part, dropping in a smug smile–and my, was it prettier than anticipated–and tilt his head as if quietly beckoning you closer.

“I’m going over there.”

Before you could get up from your booth, Hyeri is there to immediately tug you back down, eyes full of concern. “Are you sure, hon? You had quite a bit to drink.”

Your eyes crease as you smile back at her reassuringly. “I’ll be fine.”

“He looks young, he probably doesn't even know what a 401k is.”

“Do any of us?” You leave off before striding in the direction of the pretty boy, who still can’t keep his eyes off you.

You weave through the sea of sweaty bodies, sidestepping spilled drinks and the pulsating lights of the dance floor, your eyes locked on him. His gaze trails you with every step, a flicker of anticipation in his eyes, speaking to you like an incantation. When you finally reach his feet, the distance closing with each heartbeat, his smile grows wider, more inviting. The moment your legs brush against the softness of his leather couch, he leans to maintain your locked gaze, a now more playful glint in his eyes. Your smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Is this seat taken?”

“Only by you if anyone else asks,” he smoothly responds.

You gently lower yourself beside him, lifting one leg to cross it over the other, feeling the cool leather beneath you. His eyes follow your every movement, lingering on the curve of your thigh as it presses against the other. You lean in slightly, your curiosity evident in the arch of your brow. “Why all alone? With a face as pretty as yours, I’d expect someone to be all over you by now.”

He shifts his body toward you, his eyes drinking in your appearance, savoring every detail from the whip of your hair and to glitter on your legs. Meanwhile, the subtle spicy sweet scent of his cologne mingles with the ambient aromas of the club, and you can’t even breathe the air without the desire to jump his bones. Especially one in particular.

He regains his smile, a slow, confident curve of his lips, and extends a hand toward you. “I could say the same for you. I’m Seungkwan.”

You take his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch and the gentle caress of his thumb against your knuckles. With a graceful nod, you gave him a firm handshake. You return the gesture by introducing yourself, your voice smooth and inviting, matching the rhythm of the music that pulses around you, and that seems to only grow his interest. “What a pretty name. You’ve been here long?”

“Just long enough,” you say, your voice carrying a playful challenge.

“What is it that someone like you does to want to let loose in a place like this?”

“Mmh, I don’t know. It really depends on how much you’re willing to share,” you reply, narrowing your eyes and taking in that body begging to be undressed.

“Well, if you must know, I work somewhere…uncommon,” he says, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

You lean in too, resting your elbow on the back of the couch and propping your chin on your hand, your fingers lightly brushing your lips. “Do tell, Seungkwan.”

“Don’t be surprised, but I’m a bit of a big deal, especially around here,” he brags.

You raise an eyebrow, ready to bite. “That’s very vague. Mind elaborating?”

He briefly shifts his eyes to glance around the room, the smile never leaving his lips. He leans in closer, his breath warm and tickling against your ear, making it burn. “Just know I know the ins and outs of this club,” he whispers, his voice a tantalizing murmur. “Some information you might find even surprising that no one else knows.”

You pull back slightly, your eyes locking onto his, a spark of intrigue dancing between you. “Sounds like you’ve got some secrets,” you murmur, your voice low and rich. You reach for his drink from the table in front of you, your fingers brushing against his thigh for balance as you lift the glass to your lips. You take a slow, deliberate sip, not minding that its rim has touched a stranger's lips. “How sketchy,” you dare insult with a playful glint in your eye as you set the glass back down.

“Care to find out?”

“What part of ‘ sketchy’ did you not understand?” You softly laugh.

“I promise it’s harmless,” his voice brimming with mischief, poking the inside of his cheek playfully. “Or at least, you’d have a little fun.”

You hum amused. “Define fun.”

He takes you by the hand, his touch firm yet gentle, leading you away from the pulsating dance floor to a secluded corner of the club. The music echoes softly in the background, its bass reverberating through the walls. You follow him through a maze of dimly lit corridors and alcoves, catching glimpses of other partygoers lost in their own worlds.

The air changes as you enter an empty private space, cooler and quieter than the crowded main room. Your eyes fall on a single secluded corner with windows going ceiling to floor, flooding the room with skylight. The faint scent of his cologne lingers in the air, mixing with the faint aroma of alcohol and the crisp air of a cracked open window too high to reach.

As you settle into a seat in front of the windows, you observe the city through the crystal clear glass, drinking in the scene of small tables adorned with flickering candles, and erotic artwork adorning the walls. The music from the main floor is muted here like the world behind closed doors fell silent for this moment, and only you two are left in the room to bask in it. If temptation was room, this had to be it.

There’s a subtle shift in his eyes, a flicker of something unreadable—resembling pride—before they revert back to his calm suavity. He assumes the seat next to you on the plush velvet couch tucked into a private nook that touches the light of the stars. The soft glow of ambient lights casts a warm, intimate ambiance around you, contrasting with the pulsating beats of the club music that drifts in from the main floor.

“It’s a V.V.I.P area,” Seungkwan explains in a low voice, “Some of the employees don’t even know it exists.”

“But someone like you does?” you inquire, your voice tinged with intrigue.

He shrugs nonchalantly, a hint of pride evident in his demeanor as his body dipped into the leather. “I have my way around here.��

“Really?” you tease, growing slowly more convinced.

Seungkwan meets your gaze with a playful grin. “I obviously can’t tell you everything,” he says, his tone brimming with mischief. “Just know that I’m involved in ways that keep this place running smoothly. The club would die without me.”

You chuckle softly, savoring his playful confidence, and leaning against the cushions, head turned to him. “What can you tell me?” you ask, your voice growing softer. Your finger traces a teasing path down the collar of his shirt, undoing a button with deliberate slowness. “Humor me,” you exhale, your breath brushing against his ear and your gaze locked with his.

You can hear his breath hitch, and finally, you have him right where you want him. He fixes on the way your legs cross, tracing the curve of your calf up to where they disappear under the hem of your skirt. He seems momentarily captivated by the subtle movement of your flesh as they collide against each other, giving hardly any brain capacity to cumulate words.

You notice the furrow of his brow, a slight tilt of his head—as if he were mentally dissecting his thoughts. The dim lighting cast shadows across his face, highlighting the intensity in his eyes tried to regain clarity. You can almost visualize the gears turning in his mind, each cog clicking into place as he forms a coherent story, if any.

Each word comes out in complete shambles and he is saying more nothing than anything. Whatever the truth is at this point, you don’t care. Seungkwan is just too cute to pass up.

The clearing of his throat tells you he’s finished, the tilt of his smile growing less confident and more anxious as your weight pushes against his chest. He tries to come back from his stumble, picking off strands of hair in front of your face and playing with their ends before changing the subject. “Now tell me your work. What is so amazing that you do?”

“I’m—“ a teacher’s aid in massive debt on their way to graduating with potentially a useless degree neither of their parents is proud of because, although you love it, you’re too proud to say otherwise, “—a indie movie producer with one of the films up for a reward. Super lowkey right now, but…we got Gosling.” You shrug, impressed with your own lies. “So, things are looking up.”

“That’s quite impressive.” he hums, intrigued and interested in hearing about more. “Is he as nice in real life as he is in interviews?”

“Ryan’s got a screw or two loose, but pretty okay guy. At least not into Scientology or anything.”

“Interesting,” He gaze dips towards you, being drawn to you immensely, if not locking eyes with you, scanning over your features, particularly your lips that wished to be claimed. “You call all big-name celebrities by their first name?”

You shrug, the lying coming more and more naturally than anticipated. “Only the ones I’m close with.”

His palm hugs the curve of your cheek, thumb softly brushing against your bottom lip. “I wonder what getting close to you entails.”

“Are you planning on finding out?”

You give each other a long look, one that keeps waiting and ushering the other until your lips decidedly crash into his. His lips part, making way for your presence, the heat of the kiss flushing your skin and pleased shivers running throughout your entire body. Your breath hitches when you feel his teeth pulling your flesh and a soft sigh escapes his lips before his hand creeps behind your head and muffles a moan that neither were sure from who.

You lift your body from the couch, chasing his pace, and pull him closer, kissing him deeper with all your might. You crawl over his lap, straddling his hips, hands in his hair, breath on his skin. Your chest tightens as he presses you closer by the small of your back, to which you gasp as you part from his lips.

He finds your gaze, his round and glistening eyes meeting yours in soft urgency. “You okay? Something wrong?”

You shake your head, palm clasped against your burning face. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

He lets out an amused scoff. “Keep up, Miss producer.”

Your lips reconnect, and fireworks play in your like it’s the fourth of July. Popping and popping. Your lip lock only intensifies as your tongues brush against one another, entangling deeper and soon you realize Seungkwan wasn’t one just to kiss with his lips.

You ball his clothes in fists when his hands use your hips, running them over his lap, the friction so tantalizing you could hear temptation like a devil on your shoulder. You let him take you, moving towards him replicating crashing waves against sand. Loud. Harsh. Seamless.

Clothes come off soon after, starting with the delicate unbuttoning of Seungkwan’s silk top–donning the torso of one fond of sports and sprayed in excitable perspiration–before then he levers you up and slides slacks down his thighs hurriedly. His bare legs crushed underneath yours, you readily pull up your dress, bunching at your waist as feel him unzip the back, the metal chill against your spine.

“Fuck,” he softly mutters, eagerly digging his fingers in your exposed flesh and whimpering against your kiss. “Don’t hold back with me.”

“Hold back?” you repeat with a chuckle, your fingers that threaded through his hair pulling his head back, angling his head so that he was forced to look up at you in what currently looks to be in awe. “You don’t have to worry about that with me.”

“Shit stirrer, huh? I guess that’s why you’re the one handling production.”

Your lips begin to trail down his jaw, front teeth nipping his skin. “Real question is, would you let me handle yours?”

“I’d let you do anything to me,” he mumbles, earnest in every word, every inch of his body vibrating off yours, including the hardening presence between his legs pressing against your stomach. “Just don’t stop.”

Your dress abandoned on the floor, Seungkwan claiming your tits in either hand, kneading them between his fingers as he’s rolling his hips against your plush flesh and feeling your radiating core slide against his shaft. He involuntarily moans through a bitten bottom lip, imagining you ride him just like this until the end of time, thinking he could cum from this alone until he feels you move the tip of his size towards your entrance. “Oh god,” he gives out, the head of his cock readily grazing over your slit, quickly pleased. “So fucking wet. Fuck…”

“I want you inside me,” you admit, not bothering to subdue your desires. “I want to put you inside me and make me feel every inch of you.”

“Fuck…me…” he presses into your skin flushed against one another, lips curled downward in impatience, gripping your full thighs to either of his sides. “I wanna fuck you so bad. Please give yourself to me.”

“You promise you’ll handle it like a good boy?” You tease, pushing his tip only a centimeter deeper.

“Please, please, anything. I just wanna feel that pussy choke me please.” He begs.

Your hand clamps against the couch enthusiastically, “Fuck you’re so needy. That’s so hot.” Gingerly, you reward his pleas, feeling his raw length make contact with your contracting walls, squeezing around his girth and making Seungkwan flip his eyes before he starts guiding your hips.

“Fuck that’s so good, baby.”

You lightly scoff. “Baby? A little soon don’t you think?”

“Thought we found some common ground when you decided for me to fuck you. My mistake,” he chides.

You catch a tendril of his hair between your fingers, “Maybe it’s how you fuck me that grants you such a term of endearment.”

“Better up my game then.” He lifts you up, tangling your legs around his waist before he pushes you on your back, swiftly slamming his hips against you.

Your head crashes deep into the leather, the musky scent of sex now invading your nose as you drown in heat. “Shit.”

“Making sure I get the advantage.” He folds forward to press against you, your breasts back in his hands before his lips wrap around a nipple, his tongue attacking your sensitivity before he inevitably sucks. He leaves you in an ache, your hips thrusting back into him conveniently in time for him to regain his rhythm.

“S-Seungkwan…”

His moan vibrates against your skin, teeth pulling your nipple as he thrusts deeper, grazing your deep end just perfectly not enough. Fucking tease.

You whine beneath him, squirming. Your legs tighten around him, attempting to make friction, and finding a growl in your throat as a hand of Seungkwan’s squeezes your behind. A whole ass cheek in the clutches of his well-groomed hands, squeezing and memorizing its swell, while he’s splitting you in half to deduce you to a bumbling horny mess.

“Where have you been all my life?” He mumbles with glee.

You clench your fists behind him as he heightens his pace, melting into the tender assault of his lips that burn your skin and silence your voice. He ruts into you deeper, pounding away his frustrations and when he makes it known he’s found your spot, you make it clear as day.

“Oh god,” you groan, gripping him tighter. Your jaw drops slack, silent screams coming out of you, and you cling to him like in desperation to maintain that high as you claw against his broad back.

“That’s so good. Is it right there, am I hitting your spot, baby?” he asks with an exhausted grin.

You nod, softly pleading for more, and he generously grants. In an attempt to intensify your core’s pleasure, his hand cups just above your slit, fingers finding your blossoming bud. Your breath is shot, feeling the caress of his thumb press down before rubbing your arousal around your clit. Your hips thrust into his touch, gripping him by the shoulders, feeling your combined sweat drip from your sides and squeaking against the couch fabric.

“Oh my god, oh my god…” You can’t control it anymore. Seungkwan isn’t just pushing you past the edge, he's shoving you off.

“Like that, baby. Yes, what good girl cumming all over my cock,” he sweetly praises.

You reach him by the back of his head and propel him forward, colliding lips in a fervent liplock. Your moans drowned between one another, your climax coming in tenfold as he didn’t for a second stop, even well after you came.

Yet, it isn’t enough. Seungkwan shifts and tugs your legs to border his torso. He lifts himself from the ground, his feet flat, shutting your legs tight, having the sweat of your thighs chafe against another unsettlingly. It then becomes completely overlooked with his hips, his cock starts pushing in and out of you, and folding himself into you with your closed legs as your pussy choked around his cock. Your walls pulsating around him, hot and lush, he death grips your body and watches your flesh recoil back against him deliciously.

“Fucking shit,” he groans, plunging deeper as your cries moisten your cheeks and he brings you to a foreign level of ecstasy.

His release from what you can tell is thick, warm, and inviting. Your legs find a mind of their own when they decide to lock the stranger in place, feel every ounce of pure pleasure shooting down inside you, coating you in your collaborative efforts, and residing peacefully deep, deep in your sore heat.

Your lover collapses against you, eyes barely managing to open as he guides your bodies in a more comfortable position, his cum and cock still inside you.

He’s softly pant, red on every inch of his face, residual from his raging orgasm and…fluster? “I…I don’t usually—“

“I don’t mind,” you gently reassure, brushing away the sweat-soaked hair from his forehead. “I wanted that to happen.”

“But what if—“

“It’s nothing you have to worry about,” you hint and fortunately he gets the clue, cuddling up to you closer.

“Good.” He nods, sounding off in relief.

You play with his ear, thumbing over the flaming red tip. “That was really good.”

The boy can’t help but grin, “I make good on my promises…and if you want, we can do it again.”

Your movement stops. “Oh.” Now you’re panicking. “I don’t think we should.”

His cock slips out of you with ease at your confession, both flaccid and disappointed as cum drips down the leather. “Why not? I thought you liked it.”

You begin sitting up, taking Seungkwan with you. “Of course I do! It’s just…my schedule doesn’t allow me to date—let alone see people outside of work—so, this wouldn’t work.” You offer him an apologetic pat on the back, feeling the muscles pulse against you before you regretfully pull away. “This is actually my last night in town, I was gonna leave soon for another shoot…but this was wonderful.”

You cup his cheek, flushed red and soft as can be, and kiss its fullness, letting your lips linger. “I’m so sorry.” For absolutely lying about everything about me when you gave me the most incredible orgasm I’ve had in centuries and to myself for cutting lose the hottest fucking man fiction and nonfiction you’ve ever fucking met.

“No, I get it,” he answers, a hint of sorrow in his gaze. “You got things going for you. That’s ok. Just let me know when you’re in town, hmm? We can get together again, maybe?”

His sense of hope is admirable, something you saw in yourself a few years ago before the toppling towers of crippling debt fell on you. “I don’t think so, handsome.”

He sighs. “Alright. I get it.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head with a knowing smile. “Don’t be.”

“You ended my vacation the best way you could’ve,” you egg on, “Couldn’t have ended my last night in town any better.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles, finally a light flickering back in his eyes. “Then maybe I can give you a parting gift.”

You raise an eyebrow, following his figure leaving your body and find his knees back in the ground and between your legs, “Seungkwan?”

“Can’t have you leave a mess.” His hand glides over your thighs, gaze flickering from you and your cunt oozing in cum, and his full lips kissing your inner thigh, tingling legs and garnering goosebumps down your shins.

“Are you actually—“

His tongue scraps on the skin just next to your lips, a mixture of your climax settling on his tongue, and you mewl at the sight. He kneads your flesh, his moans tickling your skin and admiring it how he knew how: worship.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” His fingers play against your sensitive folds, tension pressed on your clit. “You’re everything I could want…tasting you and pleasing you is the least I could do.”

His mouth wrapped around your lips before sucking, tongue parting what’s between, and sighing at the harmonious flavor dancing inside his mouth. Your worn walls contract around him, it feeds his desire as he pushes his face deeper inside you, and melts at your hands finding hair in soft strokes.

Your voice aches for another release. The sensation of his jaw locking and nodding in your heat as his tongue fucks his cum back inside you drives you to up a wall. You squirm the faster he flicks his tongue, legs pulling back and forward, overwhelmed by Seungkwan’s mouth until he holds either one at either side, locking it around his neck.

His eyes ooze with determination and his face falls from color. The compromising position he put himself in is not one free consequence, but for the last single of the most greatest fuck of his life, losing a bit of oxygen was worth it, and his efforts are soon proven.

When you cum this time on his tongue, Seungkwan has never tasted anything sweeter, or rather bittersweet knowing this would be the last he’d get the chance to. He’s tasting you, savoring you, worshiping you. From the scent of your body, to the face you make, from what you feed him. If he knew how impossibly decadent you just were–only for you to leave–maybe he wouldn’t have done this. Or maybe he would.

Reluctantly, Seungkwan breaks apart from your lips to reconnect with another. One last shared, heated breath of this spontaneous exchange. One that he’d remember for a long time, and think about over long nights. Tenderly, your foreheads are the ones to kiss in a silent farewell, sad smiles on both your faces.

“Thank you…for reminding me what it feels like to live my own life.”

The pretty boy softly scoffs, kissing you once more, the tingle his lips lingering on yours. “Make your stories magical as you’ve made my night. Take care, Miss Producer.”

You quickly get dressed before the sexy stranger pulls you right back in his trace and you drag your friend and club attendee all the way back home, giving you the pleasure of finally resting in bed, body still aching from the sweltering sex hours ago. Sadly, without the warm body you enjoyed so much tonight. He made a lasting impression on you and you hope maybe one day on better circumstances you’ll meet again and the lie may someday be true. If you’re so lucky.

Eventually, summer takes its final laps and you’re entering the college semester and start working closely with the professor you’re aiding. The matter that your life is slowly being sucked away becomes more real the longer you look at his lesson plan and although you love writing, you know you’re about to dread the long evenings of paperwork to come.

The first day of being a TA: get in the building by the car you have barely hanging on, meet with the professor, get in lectures and “TA”, skim through your new work for graduate classes, and sadly eat your late lunch/dinner alone because you know the ziplock of trail mix marinating in your backpack would not be enough. That’s the plan. Easy to follow.

Students start trickling into the classroom about twenty minutes before actual lecture time, some with nervous faces and excited expressions. Then a few minutes before the lecture starts, hoards of students are coming through, the classroom getting louder and louder as there is not enough space for white noise. You feel your heart beating increasingly–admittedly more nervous than anticipated–finding yourself focused on papers to avoid eyes with the other students until you can’t anymore.

With over 100 students, you start to feel like an imposter, a kid playing dress-up in her mom’s closet. Normally, you're not one to get nervous on the first day, but being a teacher’s assistant makes this situation different. You’re terrified of screwing up, whether it’s a big mistake or a small one. You tell yourself you need to get out of your head.

When roll call becomes necessary, the professor hands you the clipboard, forcing you to introduce yourself and make your presence known. Your hands tremble from natural nerves as you call out the names on the list, doing your best to pronounce each one clearly and coherently. Then your gaze lands on a name all too familiar, one that’s been on the tip of your tongue before. You can’t help but look up, eager to hear the voice that responds.

He stares at you, a look of pleasant surprise on his face, his lips curling up at the corners as his eyes gleam with intrigue—just like that night before.

You clear your throat, quickly averting your gaze, and resume roll call. You decide right then to ignore him for the rest of the day, the semester, and possibly the rest of your college career, if you can help it.

When you finish, you don’t dare look up again, telling yourself it’s because it’s the first day. You’ve done everything you needed to do for now.

As the lecture wraps up, it’s time to leave. The professor dismisses the class and exits the room, leaving you to pick up the pieces and answer any lingering questions from students. You just hope this particular student isn’t one of them.

“I had a question, Miss LN.”

You’re reminded that hope is just another word for wishful thinking. You don’t need to look up to know who it is. His voice is already etched into your memory, feeding the part of you that wants to respond, and you clench your thighs at the memory.

“Sure, what… um, what is it?” you respond, still not looking up.

“It’s about the syllabus. I was hoping we could discuss it in private?” His tone carries a hint of something familiar, something that doesn’t belong between a student and a teacher’s assistant.

“The syllabus is pretty self-explanatory,” you reply, trying to keep your voice neutral, though your pulse quickens.

“But I wanted to ask, just in case I misinterpreted anything.”

You make a show of straightening the papers on your desk, the crisp shuffle loud enough to make it clear you’re not amused. “You're a writing major. I’m sure you understand everything just fine.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to check,” he says, a casual shrug masking the intent behind his words.

You sigh, knowing you won’t easily shake him off. Finally, you meet his gaze, catching the anticipation simmering in his eyes. With a resigned breath, you gather your belongings and stand. “Fine, follow me.”

As you lead him to a tucked-away corner, your footsteps echo in the quiet hallway. You glance around to ensure there are no prying eyes before stopping. He waits until you’re both out of sight before speaking, his voice lowering in that familiar way that sends a shiver down your spine. “So, how’s the indie film coming along, Miss Producer?”

Your arms cross instinctively, a barrier against the playful look on his face. His eyes sparkle with amusement, as if this is all a game to him. As if your college career and your career career didn’t hang on the very balance of this conversation and your history. “Very funny,” you reply, glaring at him. “Just two big liars caught in their own webs of lies. How serendipitous.”

He chuckles softly, the sound unnervingly familiar and instinctively arousing. “I know why I lied, but why did you?”

You plant a hand to your chest defensively. “Excuse me, I never anticipated seeing you ever again. It’s natural I’d lie—wait, why did you lie?”

“To get laid. Duh.” He answers as if it was the obvious thing in the world.

You roll your eyes, back knocking against the wall behind you. “Of course, fucking dumbass college boys.”

“You fell for it, so who’s the dumbass now?”

“Still you? Were you even drinking age?”

“Uh, yes that’s how I got in, otherwise they never would’ve let me in.”

Your palm runs over your face in embarrassment, cringing for long nights of thinking of your student of all fucking people. “I fucking knew you didn’t own the Gemstone.”

“Yet, you fucked me anyway.”

You rush towards him, your breath catching as you pin your fingers in front of your lips and hiss, “Will you shut your mouth?”

He crosses his arms, leaning back against the wall, a smug smile playing on his lips. “Why? You’re a TA, not a professor.It’s perfectly kosher.”

“It’s still highly frowned upon to fraternize in that manner, regardless of whether I’m a TA or a professor. I grade your fucking papers,” you shoot back, your eyes narrowing as the frustration rises in your chest.

He just shrugs, that infuriating grin never leaving his face. “Hey, if it gets me a good grade…”

“Or watch me fucking fail you,” you snap, stepping even closer, your voice low and dangerous. “Don’t you ever speak a word about that night again, got it?”

His smile falters slightly, but he quickly recovers, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, geez.”

“Good.”

But he can’t resist one last jab, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “My lips—and pants—are sealed.”

“Seungkwan!” You hiss his name, barely keeping your voice down, your cheeks flushing with a mix of anger and something else you refuse to acknowledge.

He chuckles, clearly enjoying himself. “Oh, it’s been a while since you screamed my name.”

You grit your teeth and speak through harsh whispers, your patience wearing thin.

“I will drop-kick you if you don’t shut the fuck up.”

He grins wider, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leans in just a fraction. “Like I said, I keep my promises. See you on Wednesday, Miss TA.”

With that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, seething, the echo of his footsteps fading down the hallway. The air still buzzes with the tension between you, and you take a moment to collect yourself before heading back, wondering how you’re going to survive the rest of the semester with him in your class. If all your encounters are like this, you might as well quit now.

As expected, that initial confrontation isn’t the last you see of Seungkwan. While being your student, your forced interactions have become a bit of a spectacle among other students, especially considering Seungkwan stares back at you every lecture like you’re the only two people in the room. His routine of pestering during and after lectures has become something his peers have look forward to and you wonder if this kind of thing is normal for a teacher’s assistant.

It seems to have stirred up varying opinions, even among students from other classes—ones far removed from your department, who typically wouldn’t give a second thought to your work. The rumors have even reached the ears of other TAs, the ones you’ve built strong camaraderie with, turning casual conversations into whispered speculations. Some of those speculations have been harmless, fueled by curiosity and mild intrigue. But others? They’ve taken on more confrontational, and their tense gazes have you questioning just how far these rumors have gone.

But is it really a rumor if its all true?

"So, you and that Seungkwan kid, what's that about?"

You give a grand sigh, the weight of your colleague's curiosity pressing down on you as he peers at you, eyes alight with nosy mischief. His intent is clear—he's fishing for details about your relationship with one of your many students. But Seungkwan is different. Far different, even if you’d never admit that aloud knowing how your reputation would stand.

"Really not your business, bud," you reply, trying to keep your tone light, though it’s hard to miss the edge beneath your words.

Your colleague, Soobin, raises an eyebrow, completely unfazed by your attempt to shut him down. "Funny enough, I’m in the business of making things my business."

You scoff, fingers curling tightly around the handle of your freshly brewed coffee, the warmth of the cup your only source of comfort in this conversation. The rich aroma wafts up, offering a brief distraction. "He's my student, obviously, and he’s going to stay that way."

The words come out sharper than intended, the finality of your tone surprising even you. You take a long sip of the coffee, letting the bitterness anchor you. This conversation is tiptoeing too close to a line you’re not ready to cross.

Soobin raises his hands in mock surrender, though there’s a knowing glint in his eyes. "Okay, okay. No need to be so defensive. Good thing you’re keeping it professional."

"I know that. Why are you mansplaining, Soobin? Don’t you have work to do?"

"Of course. Just wanted to point out—it’d be a real problem if you did."

"Uh, yeah. Obviously."

"Good."

"I just wouldn’t want to lose anything over it."

You narrow your eyes at him. "What now?"

He hesitates before continuing, grinning sheepishly. "Okay, okay. There might be a bet going around about whether or not you and that kid sleep together again."

"What the—again? Again? What are you talking about?" You gape at him, incredulity painting your features as you struggle to process his words.

"Oh, come on, don’t play dumb," Soobin says with an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes. "Everyone knows."

You blink, your mind racing to catch up. "…Everyone?"

"Everyone." He nods emphatically, the corners of his mouth twitching as he takes in your stunned reaction.

Your face falls, and you run a hand through your hair in frustration, your shoulders slumping. "Well, fuck." The words escape you like a dismayed exhale, your voice tinged with disbelief.

"And I bet that you wouldn’t. At least, not until the end of the semester."

"You bet money on me?" You’re seething, anger now directed at him.

"Not money," Soobin says quickly, raising his hands in a defensive gesture, as if to ward off any further criticism. He leans in slightly, his tone taking on a pleading edge. "But seriously, just don’t do it, okay? Be a good TA and a good friend. Don’t sleep with the boy. Just... don't."

You glare at him, incredulous. "I oughta do it just to make you lose."

"Please don’t! It wasn’t money I bet!"

You narrow your eyes further. "What did you bet, then?"

Soobin shifts uncomfortably. "Just... test answers."

"Soobin."

"Please! Just help me win this. I’m begging you!" Soobin’s voice is desperate, his eyes wide and pleading.

“You could jeopardize your scholarships with this kind of bet.”

“So don’t let me lose this one!” His frustration is palpable, his hands clasped together as if in prayer.

“I could just hit you,” you threaten, though the words come out more resigned than menacing.

“But I’m so lovely. Don’t you think?” Soobin’s attempt at levity falls flat, his forced grin barely concealing his anxiety.

“Soobin, this is seriously messed up.”

He continues, undeterred, “The money I could win could buy me a new apartment to rent out. I’d finally be able to move off-campus.”

“This is so fucked up,” you mutter, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I know, I’m literally on my knees here, dude,” Soobin says, lowering himself as if pleading for mercy.

You run a hand through your hair, trying to stave off the growing irritation. “Fine, damn it. Okay. I hope you’ve fucking learned your lesson and won’t pull this kind of stunt again.”

You meet his gaze head-on, your patience visibly thinning. "Are we done here?"

He nods vigorously, a small, almost imperceptible smile of relief tugging at the corners of his lips. "Of course."

As Soobin walks away, you watch him go, the remnants of the conversation hanging in the air like the fading scent of coffee. You take another sip of your drink, this time more deliberately, letting the warmth seep into you. You try to channel your remaining energy into something productive, determined to salvage what’s left of your day. The knowledge of the bet and the weight of your friend’s reputation hanging in the balance makes every decision weigh heavy on your shoulders.

Despite the sprawling campus and the vast number of students, gossip is as vibrant and pervasive as ever. Seungkwan doesn’t help matters, especially with the frequent discussions you’re having about his late assignments. No matter how stern and resolute your tone becomes, he meets you with a gaze that’s both wistful and enigmatic. His eyes, filled with a mix of wonder and intrigue, follow your every movement. They start by meeting yours directly, then drift downward, lingering on your face, then lower, then lower, and finally–

"Are you paying attention, Seungkwan? Or am I going to have to talk to Professor Yoon about you finally dropping the class?"

Seungkwan leans against the auditorium chairs, averting his attention to the sharp expression on your face, a smug smile tugging at his lips. "No, nothing of the sort, Miss TA. Please, continue to lecture me about what an awful student I am."

Your eyes narrow as you cross your arms, forward on your desk, tapping your foot with growing impatience as you shuffle through to gather your belongings. "I will—and starting where your assignments have been showing up several days late. I can’t keep making exceptions for you."

"Why not? You’re so good at making me feel special," he teases, head tilted, his voice dripping with a sultry sarcasm.

Your patience snaps as you sharply tap the stack of aligned papers on the desk, the sound echoing through the room. "Stop it, will you? Your grade is sinking fast, and at this rate, you’ll be repeating the class."

He shrugs, that maddening grin still in place. "Would that really be so bad? You’d get a whole new semester with me."

You scoff, standing upright, pacing a few steps as frustration simmers just beneath the surface. "Are you seriously going to waste your tuition money just to fail? At least pretend to make an effort. Chatgpt exists for students like you I’m assuming."

He tilts his head slightly, eyes gleaming with mischief. "If only someone wasn’t so distracting, maybe I could. You’d understand, Miss TA."

You stop mid-step, spinning to face him, your voice sharp. "Enough. And stop calling me that—it’s like you get off on it."

"Oh, I do." The playful tone in his voice is laced with something else now, something heavier.

Your jaw clenches, heat rising to your face, thighs sealed against one another.. "Your assignments. On time. By the end of this week, or I’ll recommend to Professor Yoon that you drop the class."

"Fine," he mutters, his tone nonchalant, the smirk still lingering lazily on his lips as he halfheartedly stuffs his books into his bag. His movements are careless, and a few sheets of notebook paper slip out, drifting lazily to the floor without him even noticing.

You sigh, bending down to pick them up. As you straighten, your eyes unintentionally flick over the handwritten lines—only for something to catch your attention. You freeze, blinking at the words on the page. "What the...?"

Seungkwan’s demeanor changes in an instant. His eyes widen, and he lunges forward, panic flashing across his face. "Don’t read that!" His voice is more urgent, almost desperate.

But you dodge his grasp, holding the paper just out of reach, your brow furrowing. "What is this? And why is it actually... interesting?"

"Give it back," he says, his tone softer, pleading now.

"Why don’t you put this much effort into your assignments?" you ask, glancing up at him, your curiosity overtaking your frustration.

Before you can react, Seungkwan steps closer, his movements more deliberate this time. He snatches the paper from your hands, but his proximity catches you off guard. He’s standing close—too close—backing you into the edge of your desk. His face is flushed, his breath coming in shallow bursts, and you can see the embarrassment in his narrowed eyes, the tips of his ears burning red.

Your heart stutters in your chest, your breath hitching as the space between you seems to shrink. The air feels thick, charged with something you know too fucking well. For a moment, neither of you moves, your eyes locked like you’re frozen. You’re acutely aware of every small detail—the way his fingers clutch the paper tightly, how his chest rises and falls with each breath, the warmth radiating from him as he towers just slightly over you.

Suddenly, he stumbles, his foot catching on the leg of the desk, and you gasp as his weight nearly knocks you backward. Your hands shoot out, gripping the edge of the desk to steady yourself. Your glasses slip down your nose as you blink up at him, your pulse quickening, his face inches from yours.

"Sorry," Seungkwan mutters, quickly pulling away, flustered as he hurriedly gathers the fallen papers, stuffing them into his bag. "I’ll do the assignments. Just... don’t fail me. And don’t repeat whatever you think you read."

Without waiting for your reply, he storms out of the room, leaving you standing there, your chest heaving, the ghost of his presence lingering in the suddenly too-quiet space.

You try to steady your breath, ignoring how ragged it had become, and the unsettling way your blood pulsed—not just through your heart, but in places you'd rather not acknowledge. You forcefully push those thoughts aside, desperate for any distraction. Tonight, that distraction would be class assignments.

With an iced coffee marinating at the corner of your office desk, the papers in front of you blur as his face flashes through your head. You can’t help but recall the way his lips looked—full and slightly parted, the way his eyes gleamed with a mix of defiance and something else entirely. And the warmth of him—how heavy and undeniably right he felt as he leaned over you, his presence lingering even after he was gone.

You shake your head, determined to refocus on grading, gripping the red pen a little tighter. But your mind drifts again, this time to the words you’d glimpsed on that crumpled page. The writing had a familiarity to it, something deeply personal that tugged at the corners of your mind. Reminding you of how much you remembered that night. Specifically how good that night felt.

‘Her whispers, haunting, breath heavy. She gazes at me with eyes full of want, strands of hair falling over her forehead, tantalizing and wild. Her cheek is warm beneath my hand as I pull her closer, our lips meeting, tasting the sweetness of something long desired but never claimed. For this night, she is mine—even if it's only for this night alone.’

Your cheeks flush as the memory hits, the realization settling in with a mix of shock and something you can't quite name. The words were unmistakable—vivid, intimate, dripping with a desire that mirrored the tension between you two. You recognized the inspiration behind them immediately.

He’s writing his own fanfiction. And it’s about you.

Suddenly, you’re not so much thinking about the bet Soonbin warned you about.

#svthub #thediamondlifenetwork #seungkwan smut #boo seungkwan smut #seventeen smut #boo seungkwan #seungkwan #seventeen #seungkwan fanfic #boo seungkwan x you #boo seungkwan x reader #boo seungkwan x y/n #seventeen fanfic #seungkwan x y/n #seungkwan x you #seungkwan x reader #seventeen x reader

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bbybaku · 6 months ago

Text

BOY NEXT DOOR SHIG

i actually really like this one. like might be my fav thing I've ever posted lol. slow burn i fear. ends w smut. as always

follows the American academic calendar sorry its all i know and it'll make sense why at the end

5k ish words (sorry idk how this one got so long)

warnings: uhh slow burn, smut, multiple positions, make out, dirty talk, choking, dom shig, slight voyeurism, slight exhibitionism

you went to college a little over an hour away from where your parents lived.

which meant you only really went home and stayed with them on school breaks. Summer, Thanksgiving, Christmas break.

You didnt think or wish to be back at your parent's house, your whole life was at college. Your friends, your stuff, your job.

That was until your parents got a new neighbor over the summer.

He was tall and kind of lanky. He had long fluffy blueish-white hair that was a little past his shoulders and always slightly in his face.

You saw him and what looked like his dad moving in.

Their new house was the one right next to your bedroom window.

Your parents went next door to introduce themselves. They came back and told you that the boy was only a year older than you and he was also in college.

You asked more questions, what school? What is his name? Does he live at home? is he on social media?

but they said they didnt know. They told you to go over and introduce yourself but you had a better idea.

You knew better then to open your bedroom window. For all you knew the new boys dad could be in the room directly next to yours.

But you did it anyway. You took down the curtains, opened the blinds and opened your window.

It was summer after all.

You never got the opportunity to talk to the boy over the summer.

You saw him in passing.

He was akward. When you saw him in the neighborhood he would give you one of those closed-mouth smiles and lift his hand in a wave. he was so hot in one of those loser-man type of ways.

You also saw him doing yard work. He never took his shirt off but he had more muscle on on than you initially thought.

Luckily, the neighbor boy also took the bedroom across from yours and he seemed to notice your open window.

Sometimes in the evenings he would open his too.

there was a little bit of distance between the houses but you could still occasionally hear the music he was listening to, you could hear him talking while he was gaming, and sometimes you would wait until he was in his bedroom with his window open to change clothes.

you hoped he would notice. maybe even take interest.

but as the summer ended and you packed up for school you knew you had to accept that it was too soon. you knew it needed time.

as the semester progressed you tried to forget the neighbor boy. you went out with you friends, you went to class, and you lived your life but he was always there in the back of your mind.

no matter where you were or what you were doing you couldn’t help but think of him. what he was doing, where he was, his long slender hands, the veins on his forearms. when you would listen to him talk to his friends. if he had a girlfriend.

obsession is a big word but you were swiftly approaching it with how often you thought about him.

when you went home for thanksgiving in mid-november you were actually ecstatic, unlike your usual sadness to have to leave your life behind. not this time, you were going to get to see him.

even if if was in passing or if it was just listing to him play video games through his window.

something was anything.

and anything was something.

just like he did over the summer he opened his window in the evening.

you tried not to stare into his house but it was much more decorated and lived in than it had been over the summer.

he had posters on his walls, better lighting, furniture arranged to be more fung shiu, and dirty clothes on the ground.

what you would do to get a hold of his dirty laundry.

he still played video games at night and listened to music.

you still changed infront off the window.

you two saw each other in passing and he did the same thing he did over the summer.

a closed mouth smile and his hand would lift up as a wave.

but now your parents and his dad were friends so they had more to tell you about him.

you had to play it cool they couldn't know that you were obsessed, no you were asking out of morbid curiosity.

your parents told you his name was tomura shigaraki. his dad adopted him, it was just the two of them, he was a year older than you and he was in computer science.

and no it did not seem like he had a girlfriend.

you had to hide your excitement.

how much did he know about you? was he even interested?

as your excitement began to dwindle and you got ready to leave home and go back to school for the last few weeks of the semester you herd someone call out your name.

you looked up and sure enough getting out of his car was the neighbor boy, tomura.

“hey! you’re (y/n) right?”

you tried to control yourself. you knew your face had to be beet red.

“oh yeah hey”

“well i just wanted to say hello" a pause. he looked around a little awkwardly, then finished his train of thought "im tomura.”

you gave a small smile “it was nice to meet you tomura, i guess ill see you around”

he did his little wave and went inside.

you could feel the butterflies in your stomach.

you couldn’t get his devious little grin out of your head.

he had to be interested. you two were the same age and the same demographic. he was a loser and you were beautiful.

if you weren’t obsessed before, now there was no denying it.

the last three weeks of the semester went by agonizingly slow. even your friends noticed your distracted demeanor.

you chose not to tell them. you didn’t want to ruin the magic. and you didn’t want to sound delusional about the neighbor you’ve been stalking and only spoken to once.

when the semester finally ended you were practically already packed and ready to head home.

you spent the entire drive trying to calm yourself down. knowing you had to play it cool around the neighbor boy. around tomura.

you got home and pulled into the driveway, you noted that his car was in his driveway.

you walked in the front door and were met with not only your parents, but also tomura and his dad.

your eyes instantly met.

you dropped the bag you were carrying.

“oh hey” you said not breaking eye contact.

“uhh what’s up” he said sounding nervous but there was no denying that he was happy to see you.

your parents introduced the two of you. he awkwardly shook your hand. you could feel how clammy they were.

your mom announced that tomura and his father would be coming to their yearly holiday party that they throw every year.

you had to rein in your excitement.

“oh, I'm excited to see you guys there”

they left and you immediately went upstairs to scream into your pillow, with your window closed of course.

the holiday party's theme was to wear holiday-esc clothes, you knew who would be there so of course you wore a little black dress and a santa hat.

you saw tomura walk in but you didn't approach him, not yet.

he was wearing a collared shirt under an oversized dark green sweater with Christmas symbols on it that looked thrifted.

you helped yourself to the access of alcohol that both your parents and their guests provided.

you had left your window closed the last few days in anticipation of seeing him tonight.

you noticed he was drinking a beer. your eyes met from across the room. he was standing next to his dad, talking to a group of neighbors.

you were talking to a different neighbor, an old lady who was telling you to dress more modestly.

you risked a glance. he was checking you out. how little you left to the imagination in your little dress.

he caught your eyes and blushed, looking away instantly. he was back into the conversation as soon as he looked away and you looked back.

you excused your self for more alcohol.

you talked to your mom

felt the warm effects of the alcohol.

made eyecontact with tomura.

talked to some more of the party guests

more prolonged eye contact.

You were laying it on thick with your "fuck me eyes"

after what felt like an eternity of dancing around each other finally, your parents were talking to him and his dad.

you joined the circle, only a little motivated by the alcohol you had been drinking all night.

the alcohol that mad the blood rush between your legs a little more than usual.

your parents were asking him about college. he answered their question but was staring at you.

"- yeah I dont really have plans after graduation I'll probably just go wherever the wind takes me kind of thing"

he didnt take his eyes off you. even after he finished talking. he was a good head taller than you. his hair had gotten longer but it still looked good on him. you noticed the contrast of his light hair against his dark eyebrows. he was well-groomed. clean shaven. you wondered what he would look like first thing in the morning with stubble and no shirt on-

"Y/n?"

"Sorry?"

"they were asking about your plans after college"

"Oh um- Im also not sure yet, Ive been looking into grad school but I'm still on the fence,"

your eyes flicked to tomura, an invitation.

"Now, if you'll excuse me I'm gonna go get some water."

he took the bait, "I think im gonna get some water too"

he followed you to the makeshift bar on the kitchen island.

you poured yourself another drink.

he cracked open another beer

“so what are you drinking?”

he shrugged and took a sip

“doesn’t taste very good”

you simply nodded. you could feel the heat on your cheeks. all these months of thinking about him and now you have absolutely nothing to say.

“so you study-“

“can we quit it with the small talk?”

he stepped closer to you and wrapped his free a hand around your waist, he leaned down so that his mouth was right next to your ear.

he said it just quietly enough that only you could hear, “i don’t want to act like i haven’t been jerking off to you changing in front of your open window and you can’t act like you’re not the little slut who opens her window and gets naked for me.”

you flushed. your blood should be cold from the embarrassment but it wasn't.

it was the opposite.

you felt like you were on fire.

it felt like your excitement was pooling in your underwear.

you realized he was still holding on to you, he hadn't moved.

it was like you and tomura were the last two people on earth. your surroundings a blur,

"wanna get out of here"

"yes. yes please" you whispered.

"thats what i like to hear"

he took your hand and walked you to the back hallway of the party since so many people were blocking the front door and the stairs.

he stopped you in front of one of the doors.

you wanted him so bad that a drunk makeout next to the guest bedroom was enough.

your back was against the wall and one of his hands was leaning against the wall next to your head.

"do you ever think about me when you're away?" he whispers.

you run a hand down his chest. stomach. brush your fingers against something else.

something hard.

"all the fucking time" you whisper back.

he doesn't say anything.

he pins your back to the wall with his body. his hand runs through your hair.

his hand does it again.

youre looking down.

his hand grabs your jaw and forces you to look up him.

he inspects your face, eyes lingering on your lips,

and then he kisses you.

not a little gentle kiss.

your mouth is met by his wet open mouth.

your hands locked around his neck, one of his hands found your waist and the other was in your scalp.

you could feel his hard on.

you rubbed your sex on him and he sucked in a breath while kissing you.

his tongue was exploring your mouth, he wanted in while simultaneously sucking on your bottom lip and biting your tongue.

tomura was warm, he smelled like ocean and spice and laundry detergent. he was all you wanted and more.

he pulled away from the kiss and took a step away from you. he wiped your mouth with his sleeve and then wiped his.

an old man you recognized as one of your moms coworkers wandered back into the hallway.

you quickly understood why tomura just pulled away.

“this isn’t the bathroom” he said looking between the two of you.

you and tomura look at each other and fake a laugh.

his face was flushed, his hair a mess, and your there was a tint the color of your lipstick around his mouth.

"oh yeah we were just talking about college. the bathroom is that way." you pointed to where the party was happening

the man smiled and walked away.

once he was gone you and tomura went right back to what you were doing.

this one wasn’t like the first one though.

it was rougher. it was something more

tomura grabbed your jaw with one hand and squeezed your ass with the other, saying between passionate kisses,

“you have no idea how badly i’ve wanted this”

he pulled on your hair, forcing your head to angle up towards his face.

you can’t ignore his big strong hands, the length of his fingers, the veins on his arms just peeking out from under his rolled up sweater sleeves.

your santa hat must have fallen off a while ago.

his other hand on your ass kneaded it like it was bread dough.

he grabbed at your ass by the handful, pulling on the skin and fat and muscle before letting it go, occasionally feeling your waist, the swell of your hips, and then going right back in for your ass and repeating the process.

his tongue explored the inside of your mouth like it belonged to him. he sucked on your bottom lip, shoved his tongue in, sucked on your mouth with his entire mouth all in no particular order.

you pressed your hips into him and liked what you found.

with one arm wrapped around his neck, you other massaging his scalp and occasionally pulling his hair, a signal to him to come closer to you.

you moved back and into him again. grinding against him. he was hot and hard.

you removed your hand from his scalp and palmed his member.

he pulled off your mouth but not your body and let out a shaky breath.

“if we start with that i won’t be able to stop” he whispered into your hair.

“who said that’s a bad thing” you whipered back.

you could feel his smile against you even though you couldn’t see his face, “i never said it was bad but maybe we should find somewhere more private”

“can we sneak out to your place?”

this was when he pulled his body off of yours and you could see his smirk, “i think that’s a great idea.”

the two of you tried to tidy each other up as best as you could but there was no denying the fact the the two of you just did something. both of your cheeks were flushed, hair was ruffled, and clothes disheveled.

there was also no denying his excitement. you pulled his sweater down to help him attempt the hide the tent in his pants.

he mumbled out a "thanks" and looked away blushing.

he walked out into the party first, raising his eyebrows at you as he said to meet him outside in ten minutes.

you counted to 100 before entering the party so as not to look suspicious.

you didn’t want your parents old and nosy friends know yours and tomura’s business.

you found your parents and stood in on their conversation. casually looking around every chance you got to find him. you spotted him in the kitchen standing next to his dad talking to a woman.

he was standing with his hands in his pockets, slouching, his cheeks still pink, his lips a little swollen, and his his looked like someone had just ran their hands through it.

you noticed you were staring. then you noticed he was staring at you too. he gave you a small smile and he pointed his head toward the front door.

you gave him a small nod in agreement.

you whispered to your mom that you were going to go sit outside and to not worry about you.

she had a few drinks in her system and was more concerned about her holiday party than whatever nonsense her daughter was up to, so it was easy to slip away.

you instantly started walking towards the front door when you felt a hand grab yours. you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

the next five minutes were a blur.

your hand in his.

running over to his house.

his frantic effort to unlock the front door.

instantly making out against the front door once inside.

running up the stairs with him right behind you.

hands intertwined.

barely making it to his room before, once again, aggressively making out against his closed bedroom door.

tomura peeled your desss off in one fluid motion and picked you up throwing, you on his bed.

he whipped his sweater off, and climbed on top of you.

you began to undo the buttons on his white button down but he stopped you,

"ah ah, not yet. its my turn"

he pulled one of your breasts out of your bra, nipple already hard, and put his mouth around your nipple.

his right hand finds yours, interlocking fingers and pressing you to the bed.

his left hand finds your other breast and kneads on it. pulling on your nipple, grabbing the flesh with his palm and fingers.

all while milking your other.

his mouth sucking and teeth bruising there was nothing you could do to conceal the unholy wimpers he coaxed out of you.

his eyes find yours.

“look at me” he says then resumes what he was doing.

your mind couldn't form coherent thoughts.

the only thing you could focus on was the pleasure you were experiencing at his hands.

and mouth.

your hips find his.

you could feel his rock-hard member in his pants.

your free hand finds his member between the two of you and you rub your hand up and down him over his pants.

he inhales shakily.

"mmm not yet" he whispered into your breast.

he maneuvers to switch sides, his mouth now on the opposite breast and his hand cupping the breast his mouth was just on.

your back arches and you moan as his mouth makes contact.

you couldn't stop yourself from grinding your hips against his again.

he bit your nipple in response, getting a yelp out of you.

you knew for sure by now that you were soaked through your panties.

since Tomura had taken your dress off your arousal was evident but his attention was still on your breasts.

he was holding one of your hands and the other was in his hair, nails scratching circles on his scalp and occasionally pulling on his hair.

your hips still moving against his you gave a tug on his hair for his attention.

he kept his mouth where it was but stopped what he was doing, lazily looking up.

you pet his hair and whispered "can we please?" pushing your hips into his for emphasis.

he raised his eyebrows slowly.

he removed his mouth from your nipple dramatically with a loud sucking noise.

he sat up and switched the position he was in to now hold down both of your wrists with one of his hands and to hold your hips down with the other,

"I said not yet,"

and he turned his attention to the nipple he had previously been working on.

you thought you couldn't have been more aroused but with his new found control over you? you could have come just from the sight of him.

your hips struggled against his arm, seeking any form of release as you whimpered in pleasure from the love he gave to your nipple.

you came out of your trance and realized he was still fully clothed and you were still wearing your bra and underwear.

he removed himself from you slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and pushing his mane of hair out of his face.

you were breathing heavily and slightly disoriented from what he had just done.

"lets get rid of these, shall we?"

he started to pull off your underwear. and you went ahead and removed your bra.

"it cant be fair that im the only one who's naked?"

you motioned to him still being almost fully dressed save for the sweater he had been wearing over his now half unbuttoned button-down shirt.

shigaraki sighed and began unbuttoning his shirt

"I thought you preferred to be naked?" he looked up at you and smirked "or are you just a show off?"

you didnt really have a good response to his call out so all you could do was stare at him.

you watched him undress making sure to emphasize one of your signature looks, the fuck me eyes.

he definitely noticed your gaze.

he smirked back at you as he stood up and shucked off his pants.

Leaving him in nothing but a pair of blue plaid boxers.

your favorite.

he crawled back onto the bed and sat on his knees in between your legs, where you lay on your back. head propped up with pillows and still panting from what his magic mouth and fingers just did with your nipples.

he locked eyes with you, hooked his hands underneath your knees, and pulled your bottom half up to him.

he pushed your legs up, essentially folding you in half as he brought his mouth down to yours.

He kissed you sweetly and deeply. with care but also disrespect like he would stop if you asked you him to but you were pulling him closer, scratching his back, and grinding against his member.

so he squeezed your thigh, groped your boob a little tighter, and explored the cavern of your mouth a bit deeper with his tongue.

his hand previously on your tit found your throat. he choked you as his mouth pulled from yours.

the pressure of his hand caused your mouth to open, searching for air and only getting a little bit of it.

he squeezed tighter as he licked down the column of your neck and back up.

kissing your mouth lightly one last time as he released your throat and started kissing down your body.

kissing down to your soaking wet sex.

his hand stroked your face at first. he kissed your jaw, your neck, your chest, booth boobs, your navel, then he found the space between your legs. he lifted your legs over his shoulders and started kissing you there too.

he kissed your clit similarly to how he kissed your mouth at first. softly. respectfully. passionately. like he was waiting for permission.

you gave it to him by grabbing a handful of hair and rubbing yourself against his face. you could feel his nose and his smirk on your sweet spot.

he took your invitation, and you could hear him inhale through his nose he grabbed two handfuls of your ass and went to work.

with his mouth on your clit you could feel him sucking on it, lapping his tongue against it, and eventually sticking two fingers into your sopping entrance.

you couldn't hold your moans in. especially once his veiny, long-fingered hand was pumping in and out.

your first orgasm didnt even build it just ripped through you, without anything you could have done to stop it.

shigaraki, satisfied enough with his handy work sat up and whipped your wet from his mouth with the back of his hand.

you could have orgasmed again from the sight of his flushed cheeks and messy hair in the ambient lighting of his bedroom.

"your so fucking hot" you couldn't stop yourself from saying.

his hazy eyes found yours "You should see yourself right now" he gave you that smirk after he said it.

there was no hiding his arousal. he pulled his boxers down and his member sprang free.

he was hung.

8 inches long and thick.

all you could do was stare your mouth slightly open and your blood pumping between your legs.

"you like what you see i take it," he says that fucking smirk on his face.

all you could do was nod your head.

he spits on the tip and starts pumping himself as he moves forward toward you.

he hooks his arm under your right leg and maneuvers himself between your legs.

"you ready?"

you hum in response

"mmm i need a yes"

"yes, I am ready"

"good girl, thats what i like to hear,"

he inserts himself slowly, you feel the familiar sting of being stretched out

tomura pauses, looking at you as if asking permission to continue.

your hand is covering your mouth but you nod for him to continue.

he does.

you look down to see that he is not even halfway in.

"oh my god" you whisper "its so fucking big"

he just smiles, not losing his focus on what he is doing.

once hes almost all the way in he pauses again, looking at you for permission to continue.

"can you start moving slowly?"

he doesn't acknowledge your words other than thrusting in and out as slowly as he can,

with each thrust in you couldnt with hold your whimpers.

tomura was slowly increasing speed and how deep he was going,

"is this okay" he asked his breath slightly shaking

"oh my god yea" you struggle to get out

he pushes the leg hooked. under his arm up higher and finally bottoms out in you,

you both moan.

"fuck, youre so tight,"

"you youre so big"

his hand hound your face and stroked your cheek before he took your jaw in his hand,

"youre so fucking beautiful"

you could feel your heart flutter in your chest as he pounded in and out of you and an unholy speed.

"lets switch positions"

you hum in response, so fucked out that you couldn't form coherent words.

he grabs a pillow and flips you over, shoving the pillow underneath your hips.

he taps the small of your back, you spread your knees and arch your back for him, grabbing one of the other pillows to hold in your arms.

tomura grabs hold of your hips and inserts himself, going in smoother this time.

just because the entry was easier did not mean the new angle was any mind boggling.

and tomura was not holding himself back in the slightest, he moaned once he was all the way in and wasted no time in absolutely fucking the shit out of you.

you didnt know it was possible for a human being to experience pleasure like this. your second orgasm of the night rips through you with an inhuman moan.

tomura gathers up your hair and pulls you toward him,

"came again so soon? thats my girl"

he wraps one hand around your throat the other finds your shoulder to use as leverage as he continues to fuck you from behind.

his thrusts begin to stutter losing speed and consistency,

"im close i wanna see your face"

"okay" you say through breaths

he once again flips you over, pumping himself as you readjust the pillows under your head and hips,

tomura heaves your legs up and enters you one last time.

your hands find the back of his head and you pull his face up to yours as he resumes his no longer consistent pace.

his hand finds your throat and your other hand finds his bicep, squeezing at the cords of muscle,

you look up at him slowly, from the sight of his cock entering in and out of you, his muscular upper body, to his big red eyes staring down at you. watching you watch him.

one last orgasm rips through you, starting in your stomach and then spreading to your core and to the rest of your body.

tomura finishes at the same time as you, pulling out and coming all over your stomach and boobs.

the two of you just sit there for a moment. both of you breathing heavy. both of you fucked out of your minds.

tomura is the first to break the silence.

he swallows and rubs his jaw,

"do you think we should go back to the party because I kind of want to do that again?"

m.list

#shigaraki smut #lov smut #mha fanfiction #mha smut #shigaraki x you #yandere shigaraki #mha headcanons #shigaraki tomura #bnha shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #mha shigaraki

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wlntrsldler · 8 months ago

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college! fratboy!luke situationship

mdni; this is for my fellow ksig!luke truther @starswillow

the idea of staying on campus for the summer almost made you want to reject the research position you were offered by one of the labs in your department, but the stipend, free housing and meals were too good to turn down. you didn’t necessarily want to go back to the middle of nowhere indiana to live with your parents for three months, which was the only other option you had, so you stayed while all your friends said their goodbyes and went off to start their summer travels or internships in big cities.

you had a plan– you were going to go to lab, go eat, and head straight home. you were going to use the summer to recharge from the stress of your first year in college. you didn’t plan to run into luke castellan, who was re-taking a class in the lab next to yours because he fucked up his final experiment so bad, even the professor couldn’t figure out what he managed to do. and you definitely didn’t plan to fall into a situationship with the newly pledged ksig brother, but here you were.

it started out innocently enough. his class ended the same time you took your lunch hour and he’d see you walking out with the rest of the future college drop-outs like him to the dining hall. luke had never seen you around before, after all the school was huge and it seemed like you’d be in classes that he was too dumb to even attempt. for fuck’s sake, he failed chem 101 and you were working in the lab of one of the most respected, tenured professors on campus. it wasn’t fully his fault, at least that’s what he told himself. he’d been sheltered away at a k-12 school in the middle of montauk for all his life and college was his first taste of independence. maybe he went a little overboard sometimes with a party every weekend, joining a fraternity, and serial dating so much that he virtually had no time to do his assignments.

around day four of running into you, luke decided to approach you. his opening line was a simple, hey, were you in my stats class last semester? again, he knew you weren’t in his class, but he needed an opening to talk to you. you turned around, blinking up at him in confusion because you didn’t take a single math class last year, and shook your head. he shrugged and introduced himself anyway.

it became a routine after that. if you got out on your lunch break before he did, you’d wait by the benches next to his lab. if he got dismissed from class before you, he would lean against the outside wall of your lab and play mindless games on his phone until you emerged. lunch hours turned into dinner requests to late-night study sessions when you found out he was struggling with chem. (his assumptions were right– you were too smart for him. you’d skipped the first two introductory chem classes because the placement test all freshmen took showed that you were way ahead of the curve.)

steadily, luke’s grades got better, mostly because of you, the two of you spent more time together than apart, and your original plan of using the summer recharging was turned on its head.

it began as the typical college fling. putting hundreds of hormonal teenagers in a confined space was a recipe for disaster. your summer consisted of fooling around with luke in the quiet of your dorm, the backseat of his car, and on occasion, the bathrooms in the chem building when one of you was feeling needy during the day. you’d heard your friends' stories of their hook-up culture experiences and you’d been sexiled by your roommate one too many times for your liking, but you never saw the appeal of it back then. but luke sauntered into your room for the first time when you invited him, with thoughts of things other than understanding covalent bonds in his mind.

you weren’t blind. you knew there were attractive people on your campus, but you’d never felt physically attracted to any of them, until luke castellan, backpack slung across one shoulder, with a backwards boston red sox cap on, gray sweatpants, and black compression shirt on. the silver chain he always wore around his neck wasn’t tucked under his shirt like usual and the diy beaded bracelet he had on his wrist was a perfect contrast to his tanned, veiny hands-- and you knew you were fucked.

luke fucked you on the uncomfortable university, twin-xl mattress, drinking in the pretty sounds you were making while his cock deliciously pistoned inside of you. all his notes and books were long forgotten on the floor of your dorm while his hips snapped against yours, teeth nipping at the skin of your collarbone while he groaned the filthiest things in your ear that had you blushing and tightening around his cock. my brilliant girl, but so dumb around my cock. you like that, baby? you take me so well, my best girl.

and all you could manage to do was babble out incoherent sentences that usually ended with you panting out his name, the only thing you’d remember through the fog in your mind. luke. luke. luke.

he loved it. he loved hearing his name leave your lips, all raw and hoarse, like how he knew his back would look with all the scratches you clawed into his skin. he’d pull out, against his primal urge to plant his cum so deep inside you, and finish on your sternum. then, he’d take his two fingers, scoop up his cum, and watch your greedy tongue suck around his digits with your big, fucked-out, eyes staring at him as if you worshipped him. luke wasn’t selfish either, in fact he was giving, which came as a shock to you.

he’d spent hours lapping at your aching pussy, eating you out until you were pulling him off with a whine from multiple orgasms, or until his dick was standing at attention again because he couldn’t imagine a hotter thing to watch besides seeing your face contort in absolute pleasure because of him.

the pillow talk and after-care were amazing too. he wouldn’t leave immediately after your long nights together. sometimes, he’d stay in your dorm even when you left to go to the lab for the day. when you came back, your room was pristine. luke would make your bed and clean up the sticky residues from the night before, just to mess it up again a few hours later.

he never shared with you was that he was in a frat that was notorious for having situationships that never amounted to anything but that. so imagine your surprise when you decided to give into your friends’ insistence and attended the first party of the school year at the ksig house and found luke castellan at the dj booth with his ksig shirt on, surrounded by pretty girls with red cups in their hands. he had his arm thrown over the shoulder of another boy, chris rodriguez, as he screamed out the lyrics to love me by lil wayne.

when luke's eyes spotted yours in the crowd, his face broke out into a mischievous smile as he raced down the stage to grab your hand. he led you upstairs to his bedroom, deadbolting the door, and fucked you like it was summer again.

it wasn't bad for your first situationship.

#frances writes #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan smut

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karajaynetoday · 9 months ago

Text

nothing's going right, and everything's a mess, and no one likes to be alone | jack hughes

author's note: don't ask me how the university semester timeline in this works. i have simply given reader a three week break in march bc why not. this is fanfiction okay, anything can happen 😂 no one proofread this for me so soz for any typos!

word count: 3.4k words

warnings: none that i can think of? but lmk if i've missed anything. soz if the ending makes you mad LOL i do love a cliffhanger

read part one here

read part two here

(This is a fem reader insert)

More writing here (soz that the masterlist is not up to date lol) | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here

Somehow, the ill feeling of waiting until summer to see Jack again began to fade with each passing day. The itch to text him every time something exciting or infuriating happened to you began to lessen. The thoughts of him when you saw a funny meme he’d like, or your shared favourite foods on special at the grocery store, quietly stopped happening as frequently.

But then there were the things that didn’t stop. The sharp pain in your chest whenever Jack’s smiling face popped up on your social media feed. The butterflies in your stomach whenever your parents brought him up in conversation, fuelled by whatever the latest updates were from their group message thread with Jim and Ellen. The joy that would wash over you when you heard about a Devils win or a Jack Hughes goal, followed almost always by a wave of sadness that you were hearing about it second or third hand, rather than from Jack himself.

You were the one who’d asked for space. You needed time, you’d said. Given the blow up of All-Star weekend, all Jack was doing was respecting your wishes; but a huge part of you not so secretly wished he’d be a bit more disrespectful and reach out. Your mind was a mess of conflicting thoughts, and your heart wasn’t sure which emotion to feel or where to go next.

Since kindergarten, you’d barely gone more than a few days without seeing or communicating with Jack in some way. Now you were nearly a month without a word, and even though you were still mad at how he’d treated you, you were craving a return to the friendship you’d become so accustomed to. Jack knew you better than anyone, could basically read your mind with a single look, and although you had plenty of friends at college and still around in Toronto from high school, none came close to the camaraderie you shared with Jack. He was someone you could talk to for hours, or sit next to in silence for the same amount of time, it didn’t matter. With Jack, you could be utterly and entirely yourself, no complications. Now it felt like you were always pretending. And it was exhausting.

It was about 9pm on a Thursday night when you found yourself pushing through that exhaustion to try and complete yet another university assignment. For motherfucking economics. You couldn’t wait until you’d completed all of your compulsory economics credits because it was the absolute opposite of your cup of tea, when it came to academic subjects. This assignment was your last one, and you weren’t sure whether to cheer or cry at the idea of hitting the submit button on the online portal. Maybe you should’ve bought a confetti cannon to celebrate. Or a box of wine. Or booked yourself a flight somewhere fun, given you had a break from classes soon.

As soon as the thought of a trip crossed your mind, your phone began to buzz with an incoming video call. A video call from… Luke. Luke Hughes.

Your face scrunched in confusion, as you swiped to answer the call, met with Luke’s smiling face and messy curls.

“Hey sunshine! Long time no see. How have you been?” Luke spoke cheerily. Almost too cheerily.

You were immediately suspicious and narrowed your eyes at the youngest Hughes.

Luke was 3 years old when you met for the first time; he could barely remember a life without you in it. Given how inseparable you and Jack were, Luke became your de facto little brother, always tagging along where he could and joining in your adventures. Later on, when he became a teenager, you were the one Luke would come to when he was having issues with his friends, or trying to build up the courage to ask out the cute girl in his math class, or missing his brothers when they moved away. You were his second call after Ellen when he felt homesick at Michigan, and you were his first call when he had fucked up something that he felt his brothers would never let him live down. Emotional support and damage control, with a healthy dose of teasing and laughs thrown in. That was the dynamic between you and Luke. It also meant you could read him to filth when he was lying to you, and your honesty radar was through the roof at this sudden video call.

“I’m fine, Moose. Just trying to wrap up my final assignment before the break without losing my entire mind.” You offered weakly, half-expecting Luke to make a joke about your mind having been lost years ago, but the joke never came.

Instead, you saw the concern flicker across Luke’s face, just for a moment, before he forced a smile.

“How long is your break for? Any plans?”

“Three weeks, and not really. I promised my mother I’d spend a few days helping her with planning for their anniversary party in June, but that probably won’t happen until right before I go back to school.” You chatted absently, hitting save on your essay and standing up from the couch, bringing your phone with you as you moved into the kitchen to make yourself a drink.

You propped the phone up against the vase on your kitchen bench, reaching up into the cabinet to retrieve a glass.

“Well, you should come visit. We’ve got like 5 home games in a row or something ridiculous coming up. It’d be fun!” Luke’s tone was cheerful, but cautious, like he wasn’t sure how you were going to react.

You hummed in response, moving slightly out of view of your phone to get some ice cubes from your freezer and a soda from the fridge.

“Besides, I heard a rumour that you’ve got an airline voucher to use. I’d hate for it to expire or something.”

You could feel your heart starting to beat faster. Luke knew about the voucher. Did that mean Jack had told him about your fight?

“The voucher won’t expire for three years. I’m sure I’ll manage to use it before then.” You deadpanned, stepping back into frame to see Luke rolling his eyes at you.

“Yeah, sure, but will I survive that long without seeing you? Absolutely not. Come on, sugar. Please? Even if it’s just a weekend?” Luke had moved into full begging mode, with puppy dog eyes and everything.

You sighed, fidgeting with the straw in your drink and avoiding his gaze.

“I don’t… we haven’t talked at all, Luke. I don’t know what he’ll do if I just show up there.” You half-whispered, feeling that all-too-familiar wave of sadness coursing through your veins.

“He talked about you tonight at dinner. Says he misses you. But he doesn’t want to push, or not give you the space you wanted. But right now, he’s on the couch watching Gossip Girl, so…” Luke stated matter-of-factly, staring you down with a knowing look on your face.

Gossip Girl was something you’d insisted Jack get into when you were teenagers, as long as he “wanted to be called your official best friend”. And The OC. And Gilmore Girls. And One Tree Hill. And basically any other teen drama series you could think of. Collectively, those shows had thousands of episodes, and you always found yourself settling down to watch them whenever you were missing Jack more than usual. You’d never realised before that he did the same.

“Should… should we tell him I’m coming? I don’t want him to get upset by a bad surprise.”

“Not at all, sugar. Book the flight and send me the details, I’ll sort out the rest.” Luke’s beaming smile made a smile of your own creep onto your face, as you nodded at him and went to retrieve your laptop from the couch to log onto the airline website.

“Now that that’s sorted, I was wondering, what does it mean when a girl asks me what my sun, moon and rising are? Should I be worried? Or is it a good thing?”

–

Two days later, you were done with your semester and on your way to the airport. Luke had suggested you book a one-way flight, “That way, you can go home whenever you like!”, but you were starting to feel like the whole thing was a mistake.

Nonetheless, you pushed through those feelings and boarded your flight. The whole ordeal took less than two hours, and soon enough you found yourself navigating the arrivals area at Newark airport. You spotted Luke’s lanky figure, clad in a Michigan sweatshirt, with his back to you. You couldn’t help but creep up on him and poke his side, cracking up with laughter as Luke jumped at least three feet into the air. He’d always been the easiest to scare, ever since you were kids.

Luke cussed you out, and then pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.

“Missed your face, sugarplum.” Luke murmured, as you pulled away from each other and he rested his hands on your shoulders, studying you.

“Aw, Lukey. I’d say I’d missed yours too, but we really gotta do something about that hair.” You poked your tongue out as the youngest Hughes brother’s jaw dropped in mock offense.

You retrieved your bag from the luggage carousel, and headed out to where Luke had parked. The two of you fell into easy conversation as Luke navigated through the New Jersey streets back to the apartment he shared with Jack.

You managed to bury most of the nerves, but they came bubbling back to the surface when Luke pulled into the parking garage at the bottom of his building.

“Is… um… Is Jack home? Alone?” You managed to squeak out, and Luke looked at you like you were crazy.

Ever since All-Star weekend, you’d been having a recurring nightmare about Jack and the girl from the messages you’d accidentally become privy to. In particular, it was a scenario where you would come home from wherever you’d been out, and opened the apartment door to find them… entangled, on every possible surface you could think of. You felt yourself starting to feel ill as the images from your nightmares started to flash back into your mind.

“He’s alone. Ever since… ever since he came home early from All-Star, he’s been alone. None of the… usual visitors have been over. And he hasn’t been going to theirs, either. Not even when we’re on a roadie.” Luke said carefully, and you could tell he was trying not to upset you.

You could also tell that he was being honest. Because you could always tell when he was lying. But your mind was running a million miles a minute. Jack hadn’t… for a month? Because of his fight with you? You loved Jack, but you also knew (despite wishing that you didn’t know at all) that it had been years since he’d gone that long without intimacy. In fact, it was probably the longest since losing his virginity that Jack hadn’t fulfilled his desires.

Your mind was starting to wander into the gutter, and you pressed your eyes closed to bring yourself back to Earth. All you could do was nod at Luke, before you both hopped out of the car and into the elevator. Luke insisted on carrying your luggage, so you found yourself fidgeting incessantly with your hands as the elevator climbed to the correct floor.

You trailed behind Luke as he strode towards the apartment door and unlocked it, stepping inside and putting your bag down. He looked back and waved you into the apartment, pressing a finger to his lips. You tiptoed across the doorway, and your heart softened at the scene before you.

You could see the back of Jack’s head leaned up against the couch, and an episode of Gilmore Girls playing on the TV mounted on the wall. In fact, it was one of your favourite episodes; where Jess comes back and shows Rory the book he wrote, and calls her out for dropping out of Yale. You smiled ruefully as you thought about the parallels between that episode and your current situation with Jack, as the argument between Jess and Rory played out on the screen.

What do you mean?

You know what I mean! I know you. I know you better than anyone! This isn't you!

…

This isn't you! This! You going out with this jerk, with the Porsche! We made fun of guys like this!

You caught him on a bad night.

This isn't about him! Okay? Screw him! What's going on with you? This isn't you, Rory. You know it isn't. What's going on?

I don't know. I don't know…

“Are we Team Jess or Team Rory this time, Jacky?” Luke called out, making you jump.

“Team Jess all the way, obviously. Where have you bee-” Jack stopped dead in his tracks as he turned to face his brother, and instead saw you in the middle of his living room.

Jack’s face was a revelation. Confusion, at first. Then the briefest flash of hurt and anguish. Then a smile. Then caution and uncertainty, as he slowly stepped towards you.

You let a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding, and quickly moved across the room, clumsily throwing your arms around your best friend. You felt Jack freeze momentarily, almost as if he was shocked at your touch, but that soon passed and you felt his hands slide around your waist and squeeze, bringing your bodies as close together as possible.

You nestled your head on Jack’s shoulder, breathing in his scent. His thumbs softly rubbed up and down your side, and you felt him press a soft kiss into your hair. You stayed like that for a minute, or maybe longer, relaxing into the embrace.

The sound of the apartment door slamming shut made you jolt, and you rolled your eyes as you realised that Luke had tried to sneak way unnoticed and failed miserably.

“Hi.” Jack whispered, pulling back from you slightly but keeping his hands locked around you.

“Hi.” You whispered back, reaching up to brush his hair out of his eyes.

“Is it still shit hair? Or better now it’s longer?” Jack teased, rolling his tongue between his teeth.

“Better. But only slightly.” You teased back, your hands slipping down to the back of his neck comfortably.

The warmth of the surprise arrival was starting to fade. The dread you’d felt over addressing your fight with Jack was starting to set in, fast. The guilt you felt for being the catalyst for over a month for not speaking to your best friend was washing over you. Your heart rate was through the roof, and your palms were beginning to sweat.

Jack sensed your change in mood, and pulled away from you to look you up and down.

“Are you hungry? Do you want to shower? Or take a nap?” He was nervous, too.

“I ate before my flight. And showered this morning. And it’s 11am, so I think I’m good on the nap front. But I do think we should… we should talk. About everything.” You were basically tripping over your words at this point, but Jack’s reassuring nod helped to calm your nerves.

Wordlessly, Jack took your hand and led you over to the couch, gesturing for you to sit. You sat down and faced him, crossing your legs and resting your hands on your knees, still fidgeting with your hoodie sleeves.

“I’m sorry - “ You both said unanimously, a gentle laughter filling the room.

“I’m sorry I needed so much time apart, J. It fucking sucked, and it was my fault, and I just didn’t -” You began to ramble, only stopping when Jack leaned over and squeezed your knee reassuringly.

“You only needed that time because I was an asshole, sugar. It’s on me, really. I had no right to treat you like an occasional friend, or something that I shouldn’t prioritise -” Jack paused as you cringed, remembering the text messages that referred to his time with you as “boring family bullshit”.

“I was thinking with my dick, not with my head, and that’s not fair on anyone.” You shot Jack a weird look, and he looked sheepish in return.

“Quinn… Quinn said that to me. After you told him to tell me about the messages. He’s right, thought. It wasn’t fair.” Jack continued, pausing to take a deep breath.

“This whole… thing, this life -” Jack gestured broadly at the apartment around you, and you glanced around properly for the first time. Framed jerseys of Luke and Jack’s adorned the walls.Various photos of the Hughes family scattered about the place. The fridge, with a gas bill stuck to it, along with a polaroid of you and Jack from last Christmas. And a photo from your senior prom. And a group photo of everyone from last summer at the lake house, Jack’s mouth open in laughter with his arm slung over your bikini-clad shoulders.

“It’s all I thought I ever wanted. And it’s amazing, and I’m so grateful. But it’s worth nothing to me, the money, the girls -” You felt yourself involuntarily cringe again. “The fame, the accolades, it’s worth nothing to me without the people that I love by my side. And if those people don’t know how much I love and appreciate them, because I treat them like shit, then that’s on me. No one else. Me.”

You sat quietly, taking in Jack’s emphatic statement. You weren’t quite sure what to say. So instead, you gently reached over and took Jack’s hand in yours, lacing your fingers through his and squeezing softly, for a moment while you gathered your thoughts.

“I know the life you live, Jack. You don’t have to be sorry for it. Playing hockey was all you ever dreamed of, and I honestly can’t blame you for… enjoying… all the perks it comes with.” You swallowed the wave of nausea that hit you, before continuing.

“I don’t… I don’t know what life looks like without you in it. The last month was such a bizarre experience, and not one that I ever want to repeat, but I also… I need to… Can I be honest?” You spoke softly, glancing up from your hands to meet Jack’s gaze, and he nodded encouragingly at you.

“I wasn’t just upset because you made me feel like I was inconveniencing you, or cock-blocking you -” It was Jack’s turn to cringe. “I think I was upset because I was jealous. Because that will never, ever be me. And I think… I think I want it to be? Maybe? Fuck, I don’t know!” You dropped Jack’s hand and stood up from the couch, and started to pace the room.

“Sugar, please sit down.” Jack pleaded, and you paused, looking back at him on the couch. One look was all you needed, and you narrowed your eyes at the smirk on his dumb face.

“Why are you smirking? I am experiencing emotional distress, you asshole.” You seethed, running your hands through your hair in frustration.

“Tell me more about this jealousy thing. I’m intrigued.” Jack’s tone was light and teasing, and washed over you like sour milk. Your head whipped in his direction and your face must’ve said a thousand words, because Jack’s smirk soon disappeared and he hurriedly stood up and walked over, reaching out to touch you.

“See, this -” You jabbed a finger into Jack’s chest. “This is why I have avoided this conversation for almost my entire life. Because you think it’s hilarious that we could ever go down that path. That we could ever be something more than what we are. Because I’m not good enough,or pretty enough, or just enough and I never will be, and I hate it. I hate it so much.” Your voice cracked on the last few words, and you felt the hot tears start to bubble out of your eyes and stream down your face.

Jack didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. He pulled you into a hug, bringing his hand up to your face and gently brushing away the tears with his thumbs.

“Breathe, sugar. You need to calm down.” Jack said quietly, willing you to calm. That just made you cry harder.

You were about to pull away, when you felt Jack cup your face with both hands, before leaning in to kiss you.

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes one shot #new jersey devils #luke hughes #luke hughes imagine #quinn hughes imagine #my writing #nhl fanfiction

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wandussyfantasy · 1 year ago

Note

May I request bottom fem reader getting tag teamed by g!p wanda and g!p nat, Wanda is a soft mommy dom and daddy nat is super rough throwing you around however she wants you. No anal though they just take turns filling readers pussy, maybe even dp.

Feeling Twenty-Two

Summary: Reader is out celebrating her twenty second birthday with her best friends when an encounter with an alluring woman changes the course of her night, possibly her life.

Paring: G!PWandaNat x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

WARNINGS:

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT READ & DO NOT INTERACT!!!

bottom fem reader, g!p Wanda, g!p Nat, fingering, oral, spanking, threesome, legal age gap, mention of alcohol, praising, degrading, cream pie, dp, and choking.

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

You are out at a club with a group of friends having a fun time celebrating your birthday. The group of you were doing a sort of bar crawl in a popular area that has bars and clubs one right next to the other. You weren't able to enjoy the strip often because of school and work which you thankfully free of both at the moment. You weren't staying for the summer semester and so you have your job notice that you would be going back home for the break in school.

Your friends are from here so when they heard you weren't going to be in town for a few months, they had to send you off properly and your birthday was the best way to convince you to go out.

You are having a lot of fun but you limit yourself. After the obligatory shot you order water and sometimes another alcoholic beverage but you didn't want to be sloppy. You wanted to have fun without being a problem for your friends later. Well, you thought you would be a problem for your friends if you didn't pace yourself. However, at one of the clubs a stunning woman grinds into your ass and you respond back happily and willingly.

You turn around and continue to dance with her, keeping her close as other bodies bump into the two of you in the crowded dance floor. It was only fun dancing at first but that's not what this woman was looking for. She grabs your leg and slides it up her body in a position that allows your middles to meet. Your eyes shoot open as you feel a familiar hardness. You look over the person to confirm that she is a presenting woman and when your eyes confirm what you're seeing, your eyes almost roll to the back of your head at the thought of being with her.

You wrap your arms around her to have her closer. You pull your chests together to feel her breasts against yours and the two of you continue to grind together. Her bulge rubbing nicely against your pussy and your thong creates a friction against your clitoris that has you screaming. Thankfully it's lost in the booming music. The woman smiles and goes in for a kiss that you hungrily reciprocate. She continues to rub against you until she wants more than dry humping.

“Come home with me,” she shouts the invitation in your ear. You're surprised you hear her through the loud music and the pounding of your heart beat. You nod desperately, having been worked up to the point that you would do anything for this woman in order to orgasm.

“I’m here with friends, I have to let someone know,” you inform her and she nods.

“I’ll wait outside, I have a red car,” she says and you give her one last kiss before departing. You frantically search for a member of your group so that you can get out of here as fast as possible.

“Kate!” You shout when you notice her grinding the back of her body into a blonde woman. She barely looks at you as you force your way through to her. “Kate! I’m leaving! I'm going home with someone!”

She scowls and frowns hearing you wrong. She stops what she's doing and looks at you like you're crazy. It's hard to see through all of the lights but you know her expressions well enough by now. “Come on! I thought you were having fun!” She shouts, frustrated.

You pull her close so your words don't get lost in translation. “I’m going to go get fucked by someone I will see you back at the apartment tomorrow,” you explain better.

“Oh!” She pulled back excited. “Yeah! Go! Go! Why are you still standing here?” Kate rushes you off and you thank her.

You run outside of the club, which isn't easy with how crowded the place is. Once you're outside your eyes search for a red car parked at the sidewalk parking spaces. Fortunately for you, there is only one. You run to it as best you can in the heels Raven told you would get you railed tonight. You laughed at her when she said it, now you're silently thanking her. You look inside the car and the woman smiles as she invites you in.

“I’m Wanda, by the way,” she says as you climb into her car. It was a nice seemingly brand new Stark 3000. You are impressed.

“I’m Y/n,” you introduce yourself with a giggle. You've never been in a position like this before. It's kind of exciting. Wanda starts the car and drives off to her house where her wife is waiting for the both of them to arrive.

Wanda and Natasha had noticed you a few bars ago and they both decided they had to know you for the night. Wanda told her wife that she would take care of getting you to the house. She knew Natasha could be a little more aggressive in her approach and she really wanted to be with you tonight.

“Full disclosure,” Wanda starts as you boldly reach over the console to give her a hand job. The woman grins, oh she was really going to enjoy you. “I’m married,” she's pleasantly surprised when your hand doesn't stop. Instead you carefully free her erection from her dress pants. She is wearing a pantsuit. The plan for the night was a simple date night. They went to a nice restaurant and we're walking around when you caught their eyes. Date night grew into something so much more. It has been a while since they invited another person to their bed. Before they were married they had quite a few threesome's. But being newlyweds and a few years out of college they thought they had to put those days behind them because anytime they tried to invite someone home with them, things would go south very fast. “And my wife and I noticed you. If you don't want to participate, I will happily return you to your friends or even drop you off at home,” Wanda offers kindly. You spit in your hand you use as a lubricant for the time being.

“I don't mind,” you say as you put your hand back on her long thick cock. Your mouth is watering at the sight. Wanda grins and sets the car's location on her home and turns on the self-driving feature. She leans back into the seat and you look at her excitedly. “May I?” She nods and guides your head to her penis. You only get it halfway in your mouth and give attention to rest with your hands. You suck and lick and kiss her beautiful cock the entire drive there until the woman is bursting in your mouth. You swallow as much as you can and lick clean anything that you couldn't prevent from leaking out. It's only then that you realize she has her fingers inside of you.

“You are such a good girl,” Wanda praises. “You’re so beautiful,” she adds a third finger and you're not used to having that many inside you at a time. You've barely had sex. You were always busy and focused with school, it wasn't really something ever on your mind. There had been a couple of guys on campus that caught your attention for the pretty much the meeting and the three minute or less duration of the sexual encounter. They quickly lost their appeal when they'd leave you frustrated. Then there were few girls that you had to set a weekend aside in order to be with. But it had been a while since the last time you've been with someone. “You’re so tight sweetheart, it might hurt a little when both get in there,” Wanda warns.

You turn your head to see her face as you were currently laying it in her lap. “At the same time?” You ask, a little afraid. This woman is pretty big in size and she had no idea what to expect with her wife.

“Yes, but don't you worry sweetheart, we'll make you comfortable before then,” Wanda promises as she strokes your hair with the hand that's not inside of you.

You nod as you relax again, you put Wanda's penis back into your mouth sucking on her until the car comes to a stop. Her semi hard penis falls out of your mouth with a pop and she removes her fingers from you. “Wow,” you say as you're impressed with the size of the woman's home.

“Come on, let me introduce you to Nat,” she says as she carefully pulls into the garage. She parks the car onto its charging station and you try to hide your amazement. You didn't want to give the wrong impression but Wanda could still tell and she found your excitement endearing. Maybe she would open her home and relationship to you. But that depends on how this night goes.

You follow her through the mansion to what you're assuming is the couples play room. There is a short hallway into the room and the walls are covered in intimidating objects. There are displays of toys and various instruments that they have collected as something just to try out. They didn't really use them or this space often or at all really. Wanda was starting to feel embarrassed, they probably looked like sex addicts to you. “I’m not sure I will be comfortable with-”

“Oh don't worry darling, we don't really use these things,” she helps the girl with her discomfort. “These are just from our experiments. We didn't really like them either,” Wanda explains the display of the whip and restraints.

“Why keep them?” You ask curiously.

“The idea of them is still a turn on, the execution isn't so much,” she says. “Come on,” she pulls you further into the room to reveal the bed with a red haired woman naked playing with herself. “Nat, baby, we're here,” Wanda calls, interrupting the woman's movements. She removes her own penis from herself and your eyes widen at the site. She was fucking herself with her own penis. And where you thought would be testicles instead is a vagina. “Y/n, this is my wife Natasha. This is Y/n, she gives really good head,” Wanda says proudly. It's only now that you realize she never put her penis away. It was standing to attention out of the fly of her pants.

Natasha sits up to look you over but her eyes aren't admiring you the way Wanda's are. Hers are more the predator to a prey. You are a meal to her. You almost cower under her gaze but you maintain your composure as you take her body with your eyes the same way. Natasha grins as she starts stroking herself. “I’ll be the judge of that,” she states and then snaps her fingers at you. “Get over here and suck my cock,” she demands. You feel a little out of place for a second. You've never been spoken to in that way before. Especially not in this context. Your eyes travel to Wanda as you weren't prepared for this. “Don't look at her. Look at me,” Natasha says and you direct your gaze back to her. “Oh look at that, you do follow orders. Now suck,” she bounces her big cock in the air. It was slightly shorter and thinner than Wanda's. But still an impressive size and you had no idea how you were going to fit both inside of you at some point.

“Nat, be nice. We have to ease her in,” Wanda softly scolds her wife. “Come here darling,” Wanda takes you by the hand and guides you to bed. You climb on and crawl to lay between Natasha's legs. Her intoxicating musk draws you closer and though you have a tentative approach, Natasha acts as if she has no time at all and as soon as you open your mouth she shoves her cock into your mouth as far as your throat allows.

“Nice, no gag reflex,” Natasha states before she pulls all the way out, leaving you in a coughing fit.

“It felt like I was being choked you bitch,” you say once you can talk without coughing.

“Oh look at that! She speaks!” Natasha says sarcastically. “Shut the fuck up,” she forces your head back down onto her cock and begins to fuck your face. Making you choke every few thrusts when she gets in there deep and holds herself there for a second.

Wanda shakes her head as she witnesses her wife abuse yours. She undresses herself as she gets ready to reward you for being so good to her in the car and not fighting against Natasha. “Oh baby,” Wanda calls as she touches the entrance of your pussy again. “She is dripping wet, she really likes it,” she's excited. There weren't many people that could handle or enjoy the way Natasha fucked. She's very pleased to find out that you were one of them.

“Of course the little slut does,” Natasha adjusts her position a little so she has a better pace and rhythm.

Wanda licks your juices on the lips of your vagina, surprising you and you moan loudly. She is encouraged to use the flat of her tongue to fall between your folds and you continue to moan your approval of the oral attention. It doesn't take you long before your whole body is shaking from an orgasm. There was so much pent up tension in your body.

Natasha stop fucking your mouth to allow you a moment to breathe. As you're gasping for air you hear some familiar noises and look up to see the couple sharing a sloppy kiss. It turns you on to see them, you hardly pay attention to Wanda lifting your hips up and breaking your thong with a snap. You whimper a little as it stung you a bit. Wanda stops kissing Natasha to apologize. “I’m so sorry darling,” she rubs the slightly red spot where the undergarment had hurt you. “I didn't mean to hurt you,” she kisses the side of your head as she slides the base of her cock through your folds.

“Don’t worry Wands, she's going to be fine.” Natasha strokes your hair and you lean into her touch. “Isn’t that right, you little whore,” she asks and uses her other hand to slap your face with her cock. “Answer when I ask you a question,” she slaps your cheek again.

“Yes,” you say, “I’m fine Wanda, I appreciate your concern,” you crane your neck to gaze at the sweet woman.

“Good, I'm glad,” she leans down to give you a kiss on the lips as she aims her cock at your entrance. You let out a sound as you experience some discomfort from her size. Wanda pulls away from your lips and trails her kisses down your neck. “It's okay, relax,” she whispers to your skin. More of her slips in as your body relaxes and invites her in. “Oh you're doing so good darling, I'm almost all the way in,” Wanda places kisses on your exposed shoulder. “Baby, can you take her dress off for me please?” Wanda requests her wife.

Natasha rolls her eyes, “I’m sure she can handle that herself.”

“Yeah, but I want to watch you do it,” Wanda admits and Natasha sighs as she complies. She grabs the fabric that has fallen down your body and delicately removes the clothing.

She shakes her head at the lack of a bra or even pasties to cover your hard nipples. “You fucking whore,” Natasha pulls on gropes your breasts. “You were planning on getting fucked tonight, weren't you?” She asks as she pinches your nipple.

“I was open to it, it is my birthday after all,” you admit and gasp as Wanda is fully inside of you now.

“Oh that's wonderful,” Wanda says, she isn't moving so you can adjust to her size. Your pussy has never been stretched this much before. You were so full from her and you could feel her cock twitching against your walls. “What year are you celebrating?” She moves a little bit out but pushes back in just as fast.

“I’m twenty-two today,” you reply. Natasha's hands leave your breasts and move back to your head and you prepare yourself.

“Happy birthday,” Natasha says, “Let me fill that tummy of yours with a present.” She guides your mouth back down onto her cock and you moan from how rough she is and how gentle her wife is with you.

Wanda begins to move inside of you, going at a slow deep pace. She isn't in any rush, she is savoring your pussy as if this is the last time she can have you because it very well might be. Natasha however is treating you as if she's just only here to get what she wants from before she licks you out of her house for good. That wasn't the plan in her mind at all but she wasn't going to let you know that. When she finally ejaculates she lets out a guttural moan as she gets deep in your throat. “That’s right you cum whore, swallow all of it.”

Picking up her pace a little in her thrusts Wanda laughs a little, “She's very good about that baby.”

“Is that right?” Natasha asks as the last of her cum inside your throat and pulls out. You gratefully swallow every last drop and Natasha is impressed. “There isn't a single drop wasted. Can we keep her?” She asks her wife as if you were some stray she picked up off the street.

Wanda laughs again, “Let's not get ahead of ourselves.” As Natasha is distracted with the conversation, you prove your useful skills as you perform cunnilingus on her pussy.

“Oh she's good,” Natasha praises as she adjusts to give you better access to her pussy. “Fuck, you found a good whore,” she moans as you slip two fingers inside of her.

Wanda is moaning above you as squeeze her cock with every thrust. Making it tighter for her. “You think her mouth is good, ohh, you should, mmph, try her pussy.”

“I will, oooh, I’m almost hard again,” Natasha is pumping her cock to help you bring it back to life as you eagerly eat her out. “Enjoy your turn while you still can.” Wanda starts to go a little faster as she lets go of her control. Everything about the situation is overwhelmingly satisfying. Her fat cock in your tight pussy, your mouth on her wife's vagina as she jerks off. She was going to lose it, her wife could see it. It got her rock hard again. “Time's up,” Natasha shouts in order to break Wanda from her haze.

“I’m almost there,” Wanda whines as she continues thrusting.

“I said stop,” Natasha moves off of the bed to pull her wife away from your hole but she isn't fast enough. With one last hash thrust, the woman is emptying herself inside of you.

You can feel every pulse of her release as her big cock explodes deep within you. It makes you moan, never having experienced such a sensation ever before. “Oops,” Wanda says to her wife’s glare.

Natasha shakes her head, “You’re such a brat sometimes.” Wanda pecks her lips as she pulls out. Her cum overflowing out of your aching pussy. Although she is grateful for the view, Natasha is still upset with your wife. “You get to sit in timeout until I say otherwise. And no touching yourself either.” Wanda pouts as she walks over to the plushy lounging chair in the corner of the room. It was set up with a perfect view of the bed so she wasn’t too bothered by this punishment. Natasha spanks her bare ass cheek as she passes by, Wanda yelps as she wasn’t expecting the action. You remain in your position with your face in the mattress and your leaking pussy in the air. You were whimpering, waiting to be filled again. “Damn, your cunt is a mess,” Natasha slaps your ass next. A moan escapes you and she smirks as she slaps you again. “You are a whore that is made for me,” she grabs you by the hips and you squeeze your pussy muscles in anticipation of having her inside you for the first time.

You don’t get what you were expecting. Instead, you get flipped and tossed so your back hits the mattress. Natasha climbs on top of you and slaps your pussy asking you what you want. “You,” you say in a whisper. She demands that you say what you want louder. “You,” your voice raises this time but it’s still not good enough for her.

“Me what?” She pokes you with the tip of her penis. “Use your words bitch.”

“I want you to fuck me! Please, please, please,” you beg.

“Since you asked so nicely,” she fulfills your request with a harsh thrust. She grabs your thighs as she pounds into your hole as if you were some toy. She slips in and out of you a little easier than Wanda had because of the natural lubricant of Wanda’s sperm and your juices. You are making noises you’ve never heard from yourself before as she slams her hips into yours. “That’s right bitch, take it. You love my cock don’t you? Yeah you do.” You nod fervently and she stops thrusting to pull your legs on her shoulders, the feel of her breasts against your legs elicits another guttural response from you. Natasha lifts your hips to get into a position that allows her legs to help hold you up. She holds onto your legs and starts to fuck you again, reaching deeper inside of you than before.

Over in her timeout, Wanda is watching her wife make you scream and she wants to be part of that so so bad. Her cock rises to a full erection without her touching herself once but oh how much does she want to break Natasha’s ruling. She wants her reward for her good behavior so she just watches as Natasha tosses you around the bed aggressively, placing you in her favorite positions. She thought about being inside of you again. Stretching you with her cock and Natasha’s. It makes her cock ache. She needed to be inside someone soon. She couldn’t just sit here being left out.

“Wanda!” Natasha calls as she has you riding her. “Now,” she says and Wand leaps from her seat and onto the bed. You are lost in the haze, gyrating on Natasha’s impressive dick as Wanda gets closer to you from behind. “Stop it cunt!” She demands and you stop immediately. “At least someone is obedient here,” she gripes.

Wanda winks at her wife as she gets into a comfortable position and holds your body against hers. “Okay, sweetheart,” she says sweetly into your ear as you breathe heavily. “It’s time now. You’re going to have both of us inside of you at the same time.”

You start to shake your head lazily against her chest. “I don’t think I can.”

Wanda nods, “Yes you can darling. You can do it.” She presses her penis against Natahsa’s and forces the thick head of her penis in between your walls and her wife’s dick. “Shh, it’s okay,” she says to your whimpers. “You’re doing so good honey,” she slides further in. “Oh yeah,” she moans as she gets most of her cock in. She stops as a point because she doesn’t want you to worry about breaking. Wanda kisses your cheek and neck and shoulder. “Thank you,” she says along the way. “Thank you so much for this,” she tilts your face to hers so she can kiss her. You are sloppy in your reciprocation because of the exhaustion you were feeling from having been tossed around and fucked harder than ever by Natasha.

The rougher woman looks to her soft and loving wife. Wanda gives her the okay to start moving and she wastes no time in moving as much as she can in the snug space. You have never in your life and never did you ever think you would experience two dicks inside your pussy. It’s messy with your juices and Wanda’s cum, but luckily the two are covering the cocks that are stretching you beyond what you once believed was ever possible.

“I don’t know how much longer I’m going to last,” Natasha warns through her teeth as she feels her orgasm near. Wanda quickly pulls out of you, allowing you to relax and she enters Natasha’s pussy. “Oh fuck!” Natasha cries out as her wife lets their lover fall on top of her so that Wanda can pound into her as hard as she had been pounding into you.

“Cum in her baby,” Wanda says as she plays with her breasts.

“Please,” you start to beg, “I want you to fill me up too. Please, Natasha.” Finding some strength in yourself again, you bounce yourself on her cock as you squeeze with your walls in the hopes of milking her for everything she has. Wanda is thrusting into her wife as rapidly as she can with the position that she is in and with the overwhelming amount of stimulation that Natasha is experiencing, cum starts to shoot out of her body without her permission. You and Wanda grin having successfully earned Natasha’s second orgasm from them.

You are shoved off of Natasha as she gets Wanda out of her as well. “I’m going to bed. You two have fun,” she says while walking out of the room.

“She has work in the morning,” Wanda explains as she crawls next to you on the bed. “How many times have you finished?” She asks as she rubs the tender red marks on your bottom left there from her wife.

“I’m so close to my second,” you say as you reach out to stroke Wanda’s cock.

Her eyes widen in disbelief, “Only your second?”

“Natasha said I wasn’t allowed to until you said so,” you confirm.

“Well, let me help you get there,” Wanda lightly pushes your shoulder so that you roll onto your back and she can climb on top of you. She meets your lips with hers for a moment. Playing with your tongue by using hers and figuring out how you enjoy being kissed. You are in heaven being with this married couple. You had no idea that you would enjoy two contrasting experiences at once so much. The two women were such polar opposites as lovers you got curious about how they interacted without sex. Curious how they keep up with each other in bed. Then a thought saddened you. What if you are only one girl in a long string of one night stands? What if this was the last time you ever spent with them? When you first agreed to this, you were fine with that idea. But now… Wanda notices your change in mood and she stops kissing your body. “What’s the matter darling?” She rubs smooth patterns along your skin.

“It’s nothing,” you shake your head and try to push your thoughts away for the moment.

Wanda tilts her head to the side as she watches your struggle. “It’s no nothing, baby. Come on, you can tell me.”

“I just, I don’t want this to be the last time,” you admit while stumbling on your words.

“I see,” Wanda crawls back up to you so that she can have you lay your head on her chest and she can hold you. She starts to stroke your hair to help calm you down, in hopes that you find comfort in her touch. “I don’t want this to be our last time together either,” she says sweetly. “I don’t think Natasha does either. You’re rare and special to us. We haven’t found someone that is as willing and compatible with us as you are.”

You look up at Wanda with a pout, “Really?”

“Really,” she confirms. “I think we can figure something out that works for all of us. Don’t you think so?” You nod your head eagerly. Wanda is happy to have cheered you up. “Now, are you ready to feel amazing?”

“Yes, Wanda,” you say and you kiss her breast.

“Okay, sweetheart, let's get you screaming again.” Wanda makes her way between your legs again and does just that.

The End.

#smut #wanda fanfic #wanda smut #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x femreader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff x you #wandanat x you #wandanat x y/n #wandanat #wandanat x reader

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littleroaes · 5 months ago

Text

To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before, tbz

PAIRING ⏵ ( 2nd pov, you ) fem!reader x lee hyunjae, lee juyeon, ji changmin, kim sunwoo, eric sohn

at the last two weeks before the semester; your younger brother leaked your old love letters. when you return to university, you work as a part time assistant for the hockey team. the charming crush of your youth has read your letter and makes a deal to not spread it if in return, you'll be his fake girlfriend for the upcoming house party. that night sets off an event with all five letters.

GENRE ⏵ FLUFF, college!au / university!au, setting around 2013 ( 2010s!au ), 2000s!au ( childhood ), to all the boys i’ve loved before!au, summer!au, some angst since we do only have one end game, childhood friends2lovers, hockey player!hyunjae, playboy (with a soft side)!hyunjae, short fake dating!au side plot, boy next door!eric, frat!eric, rich kid!eric, flirty but shy!sunwoo, old summer love!sunwoo, reader is an medical assistant, lots of pining, mutual pining, cats!!!, nerdy oblivious juyeon, literature major!juyeon, history major!changmin, changmins bad at sports (sorry bub), 3 different types of parties!, a pool party, a house party, a beach party (i don’t even like parties irl!)

WARNINGS ⏵ reader is good at sports ( volleyball ), hyunjae is a little mean/ manipulative at the start, reader gets drunk twice, sunwoo once ( oufff ), swearing a few times ( fuck, shit ), some jealousy, bad dancing (specially from reader), reader's zodiac sign is a capricorn (for a joke), kissing, pet names ( angel, princess ), proofread once ( i feel like ive forgotten something but hope not😭 )

WORD COUNT ⏵ 19 k

playlist i listened to while writing

this is my fic for @deoboyznet the love letter collective event ! if you specifically want to know which members will have more romantic storylines and who reader will end up with; i have written it out at the end of the post! ( if it being your bias is important for reading ex ). though all five will have cute/ flirty moments with reader! i changed to 2nd person pov for no reason😭 i hope you don’t mind here’s a 500 word teaser before commitment ( it’s in 3rd pov for now! )

like and reblog are highly encouraged !

01 . CHAPTER ONE

IMAGINE THIS; ONCE UPON A TIME, FATHER OF YOURS SAID THAT TO SCOUR THE EVIL THOUGHTS OCCUPYING YOUR YOUNG MIND, ONE ONLY HAS TO WRITE LETTERS. What a magical solution to all the finite problems of youth! That’s what you thought even as you started to come of age and the inevitable falls of love. Each time, when your innocence was consumed, little by little, by the harsh realities of romance; you spit it out on a piece of paper, enveloped it, stored it in a box (extra security measures) and sheltered underneath your bed.

And now, you’re in university. Back home for the last two weeks before the autumn semester. Laying against the bed–it reeks of school mornings of 2005–and still holds those letters beneath. The pink hues on the pillows are still there, maybe a little washed out. All butterflies stickers from magazines are plastered on furniture that shines, just slightly, when the sun goes down underneath the neighboring roofs, lucent through the open windows.

You’ve hung out with Eric, a childhood friend. Bicycled down the gravel paths fenced in lines through houses. Side by side, always trying to one up the other like you always did. Take a swim in the same lake, in the same spot those old pictures show. Like those days; the sun never falters until it all stands on the edge between diagonal roofs.

And amidst your childhood lies your younger cousin. Bare arms touch each other as you lie side by side with feet over the pillows, and noses –the paper box of letters. She told you about a longing crush she has for a boy in the parallel class. When overconsumed by nostalgia; you couldn’t refrain from dusting off the old box. And that’s how you ended up back with the letters you swore to withhold.

There are five of them.

The first one is Lee Jaehyun, a three year older popular student who you had a trivial crush on in middle school ( together with everyone else). In all honesty you didn’t know much about him; just that he was cute looking. There’s a sort of emotional torment in recalling the one sided adoration while leaned out the school window to see him play football. Even his name haunts you still in uni as your roommate had a crush on the shining hockey player the entire two semesters.

In short, everyone liked Lee Jaehyun.

Next is Eric Sohn, your childhood friend, the boy next door, even first love? He has many titles you realize. He lived in an impressive house north from here, one that hosts many parties every time his parents take the trip to their summer resort. At some point, it felt like he knew every kid in town. Luckily, you have never been the jealous type. Despite being each other’s ride or die since ten, you never confessed the secret ways you looked at him back in the sandbox.

Third is Sunwoo–just Sunwoo; you never got his last name–from summer camp who you even ( jokingly ) got married to. Your first summer at thirteen, away from parents, with kids the same age. When recalling it all back, that summer feels as if taken out of a movie, and you fell head first, three meters deep with the boy. Sunwoo always stood in the center ( bad and good…mostly bad tbh ). You got paired up for the kayak; it pissed rained and your coordination couldn’t take you ten meters. But you remember every word he said as butterfly inducing nonetheless. After that, at night you snuck out of your cabins to watch the stars. And when that summer too ended, you swore your heart shattered into million pieces.

The fourth is Lee Juyeon, a boy you had never seen before until his cat got pregnant by yours. Scuba Steve ( long story ) had been gone for some days until another family came up to their door with him. For half a year, it felt like you saw Lee Juyeon everyday. He was just as enchanted by kittens as you ( if not more ) and you two would visit each other just to cuddle with them. The teenage heart used to rush with the mere presence of him and together you named all the kittens–until they were sold off. Then they eventually stopped seeing each other. Though he still lurks around as a poet’s ghost around campus ( source Eric ).

The last one, Ji Changmin, the son of your mother’s friend. He teached you calculus for a while in high school. To be fully transparent, you didn’t learn much from him that year because all you did was leaning on the kitchen table while adoring him until the rims of his glasses slipped. He always scolded you endearingly when you didn’t listen ( which was the majority of the time ). Ji Changmin always wore cute polos with neat pants–now when thinking about it, mother might have approved if you got together. But it’s too late. He went to uni; and simply left you with a newfound thing for glasses ( still wearing cute polos in uni ).

And that’s all. You sometimes wonder if it was a mere symptom of youth that resulted in those letters. Since uni–outside a campus crush or two-–that compelling yearning for someone has never come back.

Eventually the bird’s cease to sing once the sun swallows entirely by the horizon, and cicadas can be heard through the open windows. You leave the letters as the two of you close the door. Mother asked if you and your cousin wanted to go with the rest of the adults down to the green field at the center of the neighborhood, you said yes.

When the heavy door shuts against the frame, voices from your younger brother’s room at the highest floor seeps through the windows.

( next morning )

“Mom, you haven’t seen some letters?” You stand at the stairs to look down the kitchen counter where mother and your brother turn from the pantry light.

“Three’s blue and two pink envelopes?” You ask again.

Mom shakes her head, “No, I haven’t?”

You sigh, sprint up the second floor.

“Y/n?”

Call of your name echoes through the frame into your room. To look over the bed and see your younger brother centered at the white rectangle. His fringe like curtains reluctant to open as he looks elsewhere. You come up completely.

“What?”

“The letters…”

Your ears perk up, “You’ve seen them?”

“No, I took them…” He says guilty and starts tearing off paint from the wall.

“The guys wanted to prank you yesterday, we sent them, I’m really sorry.”

He looks up again, “But I told them to not do anything more.” He reassures, but his voice trails off as you neither alienate or sigh at this confession. Eyes, lifeless as the posture in your arms hanging off your stale corpse.

“You did what?” You ask; wishing you heard incorrectly the first time and he crashed a vase instead.

“We sent your letters..” He says hesitantly with eyebrows knit.

You close your eyes. Take your hands up your face to cup it and breathe in. Autumn semester starts in exactly 13 days and you know at least half of the letter receivers attend. And definitely all five live in the city.

To breathe out, hands fall in your lap. He cocks an eyebrow at what one could guess is a meditation session before you open your eyes.

“I’LL KILL YOU!”

02 . CHAPTER TWO

( tuesday afternoon )

The letters were out; an existential dread running on two bags of pure sugar surged within you. A sensation you were oblivious to existed. First week went, and you hoped the mail man had fallen over and left the letters on the highway, doomed to get run over til their unreadable. But those wishes perished the very moment Eric Sohn came chanting underneath the window. The characteristic bird chimes and mowers intertwined in green leaf rustle; his voice echoed through open glass. You told mom not to tell him you were here; that you had already taken the train to the city.

Destiny was in your favor for once, and your mother did lie when Eric came to the front door.

So far, none crossed fate with the receivers of your letters has ensued. Eric was the only established friend in your life, hence you held yourself far, far away from any business major hot spots. Though, just after achieving three days. The first afternoon at the start of your part time; rulers leave you forced to stare eye to eye with receiver number one.

“This is Y/n, she will work as your athletic trainer assistant for this semester.” The trainer lifts hands to his side to make it even clearer than it already was. It is damn cold beside the ice rink–which you thank god for since your face would be blistered red otherwise. As he presents for all tall men in thick layers of hockey protection, they stare; you’re left to make a timid jazz hand motion with a strained smile.

“I’m Y/n.” Hands fall back to your side and concentrate all might to look at the other eight people–not the one to the right.

“She will be helping me with equipment and aid; so you’ll see her around a bit.”

The players wave past you in turn; to introduce themselves in a mere identical manner. The last name pains deeply as you pretend to find shoelaces loose.

“Jaehyun.”

You can’t see his expression, not even when eyes come up. Only his back covered in blue jersey greets you as he steps off the plastic flooring and onto the ice.

Though, it is an immediate opportunity for breathing room when all players go to practice. The plastic walls become solid and you look over the formations on ice. Maybe you got yourself free from this one? Maybe Hyunjae also thought it was so damn awkward that it’s easier to ignore it. You hope deeply while taking off one glove, as sultry temperatures rise beside the rink.

Followed by the 30 minutes of relocating equipment around the center, the next time you come back into the ice hall, the trainer greets you with sweat outlining his sideburns. You knit your eyebrows before taking eyes off him and onto the player in navy; halting out the rink. Turns out Coach yelled two different instructions, followed after one another; which resulted in a collision of two players.

He tells you to take him, who limps to the clothing rooms. By immediate compliance you approach his silhouette; leaning on the plastic divide. You can’t make out the exact expression as he faces the ground, but when you ask him if he needs help walking. That horribly handsome face from your childhood looks up. Breathing heavily, but smiles through the fringe.

“Yeah.”

You purse your lips into a thin line. To force sight away from him. You look at the entrance to the ice hall while taking his arm over your shoulders. Come to the clothing room after taking off his ice skates. The two intentions of your own conscience fought while walking. Nothing would be more awkward than looking at him again, on the other hand, the concern over his weak state is true as the continuous breath sounds loudly beside your ear.

Hyunjae’s now on the bench before one side of the lockers. He watches attentively as you round the sport’s bags to take the first aid kit on the other side. The ventilation is the loudest thing in the room. At some point it becomes bothersome as you hold his clothing. You haven't made eye contact since the rink, but senses his gaze fixed over your scalp.

He talks suddenly.

“You know Y/n, I got your letter.” He says while looking down at your hand; securing the bandage around his ankle.

Fuck.

Fingers stale from suspension for a moment on the bandage edges. The material loses around his ankle and you force it towards you.

A sigh, still looking down, “Listen; it was my br–”

“It’s appreciated Angel, but it will never happen.” His lips curve higher at one opposite edge, leaving his eyes on you with pleasure like he knows something wrong.

You let go off his legs; weight from your hands fully on your knees as you observe–rolling your eyes.

“I know, okay.” You breathe in, “What I was about to say was; my little brother sent it, it was not meant to be seen by you.” Another sigh before you force yourself up from the floor; coming in greater height than Hyunjae.

“Also; I wrote it when I was like 11.” To turn to the first aid kit, “So don’t get your ego too high, Ice God.”

“Sure, if that’s what you say, Angel.” Hyunjae takes his palms on the bench surface; leaning against the locker. Arch of his lips might rewrite your life when he proceeds to stare.

“Why do you even call me that?” You return to the opposite side and cross arms; to perceive him roughly as if to build similar strain in him. But it leaves to no avail.

“Why?” He quotes, “You’re sitting here healing us, our team’s little angel.” He shrugs his shoulders.

You look away as to not blossom of rose pigment–instead start organizing the materials in the aid kit.

“Either way, Jaehyun. You can go now, it’s done.”

No length of his voice waves via the dead locker ocean. After eyes set on the sections of the green bag; you glance at his bench. And to make you uncertain, his white bandage leg is still in frame. After you pull the zipper and leave the kit in your lap; you stare at Hyunjae who, with the usual smile, stares back.

“I said you can go…” Quietly and tilt your head towards the door.

“I know.” Hyunjae voices in the same tone as before.

You side eyes him still and sits up.

“I have a deal. Would you like to hear it?” He says suddenly, causing a rupture across the room and stacked tension weighing on your shoulders.

“Okay…” There’s an uncertain principle, written like a formula over your expression, layered in your voice.

“You go with me as my girlfriend for Jeno’s party this Friday.” He says monotone.

The first aid kit frees from your hands. Eyes drifting between two points and you’re left looking eyebrow knit at him two meters away. Then, forced to turn when he smiles contempt. You swiftly bend down to take the aid kit before returning gaze. Hyunjae sees in center of two bags hanging; your lips sunder to shove down the offer. Right through the concrete to the core mit.

“--Or else I’m putting up your letter for the whole campus to see.”

You immediately shut sealed and eyelids folds half over the curvature. He smiles so hard it borders on comical. And with his arms crossed over his jersey, you only wait for them to fall and see him burst out laughing; tell you he got you. But the silence prevails your thoughts and you start to believe he’s actually serious.

“I don't believe you.” You look tired at him.

“No, I’m serious.” Hyunjae still nonchalantly crossed armed and slack raised shoulders.

As another passage of ventilation comes through, beckon time like the minute visor. You finally sigh and sit down at the bench again.

“Why even me? Can’t you just ask someone else?” Frustration over the seemingly complex idea for a deal when he could make it ten times easier for himself.

His expression falters for a second after the question. Hyunjae holds his lips sealed; unaltered high posture cause he hesitates to give away his shortcomings. But on the other hand, just a little empathy might do it.

“I’m actually in a bad position, Angel.” He leans forward, voice quieter.

“Everyone knows I’ve got a girlfriend, but she broke up with me before the semester. They want to finally see her, but I got none” He pauses and leans his chin on his hand and pouts a little, “--just you.”

The withered corners of your face perks slowly up as he ends his sentence. Hyunjae smiles harder, believing he a white winged victory, but it disappears the very second you laugh in his face. Your back comes against the support of the bench while eyelids close to the bottom of laughter.

“She dumped you?” Hands gather in your knees.

“Too bad, too bad.”

It’s Hyunjae’s turn giving stale eyes. Though, just as fast; he gathers himself back and leans onto the lockers again.

“Yeah, is it a deal or not, Angel?”

You breathe in and look at him still. Hyunjae is more foolish than his appearance gave off, you don't have faith in first impressions. He might as well scan your lost letter and create a chain mail across campus. Partying wasn’t on your list for the first weekend of the semester, but maybe you could get away with lurking against the wallpaper?

You swing your left foot and finally look back at him, “Okay, deal then.”

Hyunjae smirks.

“Just this, then we're equal. No grudge, no obligations.”

“Sure.” He nods.

You tilt your chin down, “...I don’t trust you, Jaehyun.”

He lets his hands up, “Look, I’m keeping my promise. I told you my dirt too.”

“Like not having a girlfriend is as embarrassing as a love letter written in 2002.”

( friday evening )

“Okay, should we go in then?” You take a step forward but get pulled by the shirt. Shoulders come up against him and the arm sleeve of his clothing folds against your nape.

From your first encounter until Friday; you were forced to persevere through charming–bordering on foolish–remarks. The weekend prophesied as projection on the glass entrance that Friday. And it shattered the very moment Hyunjae’s voice echoed from the changing rooms. That he’ll wait for you outside the women’s dormitory. With not a twitch in own expression, he disappeared behind the frame with a wink.

One of your two roommates was also invited to the house party. The thought of having someone else other than ice god settled some relief. But as you stood waiting in the summer heat of night; the first bus went and fifteen minutes later, you saw a familiar silhouette to the left of the stairs you sat on.

He didn’t say anything when you refused to sit up and just glared tired at him.

“What’s with the face, Angel?” He had asked laughing lightly, “We’ll miss the bus.”, you are forced to stand.

“You’re late, Ice God.” You muttered and started walking towards the bus stop. Hyunjae ran up beside.

Both talked while the streetlights behind the glass window became all the more distant. Though, it didn’t become hopelessly quiet, as it was a loud friend group behind. You cursed your half sleeve arms when Hyunjae didn’t know the way to Jeno's house from the bus stop. Forced to traverse between bushes when he pointed at mindless directions. Swore that he knew the “shortcut”. And ants might as well have climbed up your toes and into your underwear.

Now, as either stands before the three stairs and the entrance door in the midst of the front yard. You're pulled against his chest (still covered in leaves).

“Not so fast.”

Though he’s out of peripheral vision; the self satisfied tone at every articulate visualizes his smile. His hands like a thin veil across your shoulders–you take a step back from them, to face him fully.

“Okay then? What’s the plan, Ice God?” You cross arms to build some fence–to match his pride. But either only shares an instant of eye contact before you press your lips and look towards the sad flowers hidden in the corner.

Hyunjae has always enjoyed teasing people. Of course, a bit apprehensive to strangers, but nonetheless; he waits no time to poke at the first friend closest in sight. He himself has probably no thought about it, but he has a thrill for watching people’s reactions. You were no different. Like the sun; secret behind the trees, it’s always so obvious. You were flustered by his turns of nicknames and comments; so much that you feel to defend your blemished garden. There’s something endearingly professional about you, he thinks.

“You have a lip balm or something?” He cocks an eyebrow.

You look at your belongings; eyes looking as narrow threads when apprehensive. To wait for his signature laughter but instead nods his head. You roam around the bag; hands helping to widen your vision, but not enough to notice his fingers below the tender sprout against your head. You look up to see him with one of your two hair clips. Curious what he’ll do; you try no fence when he sets it on his fringe.

“Now I’m yours.” He smiles.

Hyunjae comes down to you slightly before returning; taking his eyes off and onto the entrance before brushing past your shoulder. Because of the evening shades, the red pigments on your cheeks withers out with skin as you look behind your shoulder to see Hyunjae’s figure let the deafening conversations from inside, out. He doesn’t look back towards you, and you knit eyebrows before taking double steps up the stairs and into the house.

With one step you push yourself off the wallpaper; feel shoulders brushing up against your own as the living room opens.

Hyunjae held your hand for the first half an hour. He then let go when something happened between the friends (you didn’t know). But even then you tailed after like some home cat. Though, as anxiety arose after seeing a group of Eric’s friends in the same room, you cautiously backed into the corner. Some stranger did the rest for you when they collided with the table and Jeno’s grandma fell lid first and shattered on the floor. It became a bit quiet when poor grandma(s ashes) laid there, all spread out.

After Jeno panicked and some helped clean up; the chamber of incomprehensible conversations started again.

There’s cliques scattered between the couches. You reach on high toes to see past all the height and hair to locate the frame you came in from. Soon you fall back to your heels, just as the chorus waves through the walls. The crowd suddenly opens up before you when two people walk away. You’re left still and see the open door to the hallway. Shoulders come down in height just as you breathe out. Relieved to take a step to finally leave; but your feet barely touch the wood until eyes widens and air asphyxiates in your throat.

At the end of the high walls; Eric stands half a meter from the door frame. A lamp shines from behind him, lightning up his half body. Like the sun; he becomes the very essence of the narrow square.

You turn in a desperate attempt for survival. This season heat and packed building; it all bends backwards through the grass field in all four directions.

Immediately you see diagonally behind, a staircase up to the second floor. You don't even look back to Eric before colliding with someone's back and sprint up. There’s no lighting up the wooden stairs, just Earth’s wailing moon through the pier glass.

All those voices–through speakers or chords–wanes like the full to crescent moon month.

There’s closed doors around. It burns pace from behind and you take the handle of the door left to the stairs. Without letting it open even half way; you slip past the glimpse and lock it shut.

You lean close to the door; feel the cold wood on your left cheek. The party’s over on this side. Like the melancholic memory of falling asleep to the adults in the other room.

When you expect nothing; a clear voice from behind reiterates peculiar sentences.

Not strong enough to take your chin off the door; you look past your shoulder to see someone in the bathtub with a damned annotated book.

It takes about three seconds from first contact until the bathtub guy flinches, “Ah!?”

“Oh my god!” Your eyes widen while your shoulders contract as wings.

It echoes between the tiles when his book lands on the bathtub floor. To face the sudden him, distressed; your hands come up in height with your wing like bone.

“Sorry.” You deadpan.

“No, it’s okay.” He answers, soft spoken. Eye contact stays fleeting as his fringe–like curtains–falls before the mirage window when he reaches for the book. He mends the awry strands into place; scour the wordy dimensions to where he left off.

You recall his soft silken halo. Hands come down to its sides and you lean off the door. Like a main character from an academic tale; he looks deeply dreamlike–always somewhere else. The guy feels your presence still as above the title cover; his eyes peeks.

At this point, you look at him with wide eyes horror; ready for him to either aristocratically roast your fourteen old writing, or condense into second hand embarrassment and hide under the bathtub.

Lee Juyeon sits in the damn bathtub of a house party.

As you’re deep in fourth dimensional torment; Juyeon speaks first.

“Oh, Y/n.”

He smiles, still holds the book before him.

You refuse to move, “Hi…Juyeon.”

“That was a long time.” He switches between your eyes and the next sentence.

The tension in your frame aids in turn for every second. Juyeon doesn’t mention any letters, but still, you eye him suspiciously.

“Yeah.” You agree awkwardly.

“Why are you here?” You ask.

Juyeon pauses in sentence once again to shift his fringe and look up. You had nearly forgotten the patterns of silence and speaking he so often followed. Back when they always met; they spent so many seconds simply waiting for him to talk.

“I would ask you the same thing.” He sort of tilts his head attentively.

With your lips pursed instead of answering, you look to the mirror above the sink. Water in delicate droplets dive in while he turns the next page.

“Escaping things?” He asks, still reading.

You nod.

“We all do.”

You see him through the mirror reflection. His eyes bent like a faint wave from shore; reassures her lone presence.

As he closes off himself again; you figure he doesn’t mind their shared space. There’s no sign of knowledge about your letter. Juyeon always reeked of innocence, so maybe you’re wishing.

But Eric’s still one floor below (taking the safe option).

You take a seat on the bathtub edge. Shoulder faces Juyeon who leans his back on the discolord cream white tiles. .

“Should I read something for you?” He asks soothingly.

You hesitate before letting your hands comfortably down the edge, “Okay.”

“You want some?” He reaches out the green glass bottle.

Your shoulders scoff when your mind affirms, “Thank you.”

Juyeon asks suddenly, “How’s Scuba Steve?”

Truly the only thing left that protects from not spitting out the alcohol is embarrassment. You do an expression tainted by drinks or unease, and let the bottle down your lap.

To wonder how in the passage of all years; Juyeon recalls your insignificant house cat that mated with his own (or maybe it’s not that weird when you think after).

There’s a sort of foolish–bordering on stupid–touch in your chest that he actually never forgot Scuba Steve. One could guess we live on, assuming we’re the only one that remembers.

“Oh, he’s dead.” You deadpan.

“Oh.”

The room reaches–what resembles closest to silence– in a house party. Both their lips are pressed in thin lines as they view the tiles above each other again.

“You then?” Silence starts to torture you briefly in your fingers.

“How’s…” Your face contracts in parallel to the ceiling when scattered bleached cuts from that black little cat sleeping on his floor.

“Mindy?” He says.

“Oh, Yeah.”

They both laugh.

“She’s still alive.” He lets the book down for the first time (excluding the jumpscare), “She’s with mom and dad. Though she's getting very old now, she eats less and doesn’t even go out anymore.”

As they sat there talking about cats and poetry; eventually the boundary past the toilet door ceases. You didn’t leave that end of the bathtub (aside from running down the kitchen with Juyeon for more alcohol).

Now they lie on opposite builds against the cold edge. It’s been sometime since you drank, specifically this much. You can’t talk for Juyeon, but he seems pretty damn wasted too. Your eyes dares to fall while Juyeon’s shirt climbs up his chin as he comes deeper down the tub.

“I can’t wake up here.” You mumble. Either to yourself or decked out Juyeon; you don't know. He answers something incomprehensible back as a bottle in the scattered line before the bathtub falls. While you grasp for the handle, you turn barely to Juyeon who has his eyes half open.

“Bye, Juyeon, it was epic.” You wave your free hand, “Tell Mindy I said Hi.”

“I’ll do.” He tiredly answers back.

The alcohol withers boundaries within your body. Turns it weak for the downstairs crowd, like poison inducing nausea. In line with poison; You walk as if zombie apocalypse smitten down the stairs without holding onto the railing. Somehow reaches the ground floor and passes through the living room.

Whatever mechanisms your mind built to defend its dignity from Eric; it took the place of the alcohol in its glass bottles. You’re in the hallway, three meters from the entrance. It’s overheating–worse than a sauna–in the house. Mere presence of tepid air has your hands trailing along the walls.

A warmth presence dividing the you and outside blocks. In a desperate drunk attempt you push against it and complain.

“Out the way, you’re fucking hot.”

“I am?”

It speaks back, in a tone rather mischievous than what your state calls for. With a shift of the inner lightning; you realize you have your hands on a uni jacket. The logo turns and you would accuse him of motion sickness.

From your face-low angle, his hands are tied between the blue pockets. You lean harder on the wall to force your chin where his head is tilted with a smile to the same degree.

“You’re still here.” You still complain and his face drops. Eyes fleet between your face, the opposite wall, and the entrance door to return.

“That wasn’t a compliment, right?” His fingers directed to his chest.

“No, Einstein.” Eyebrows knit when realizing you’ve drifted off the main mission. Two shoulders on opposite ends collide as you hastily drag along to the frame.

“Woah, woah.” The male student takes your wrist lightly, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I think it’s a great idea.” You defend without knowing.

“You’re gonna fall down the stairs.”

His voice is strangely worried which you would have been touched by, if it wasn’t for the drunk state.

Mid temperatures of night may have transpired any senses as you don't answer. He takes this to come up in line with you; one decimeter away from the first stairs.

There’s two people, solitude in a hammock to the right, and prey like shadows of two around the grass. Music from inside is still too loud, and it probably hides someone puking at the other end.

“I’ll help you, okay? I’m not a weirdo.”

You turn your head to side eye him. Either promise respect or sacrificially bow down, he throws his hand up. To then gently lie it on your shoulder, lead you down.

“That’s what a weirdo would say.” You mumble without working against him.

Gravel scratches underneath their feet and the male student takes his hand off your shoulder; though still twined by the wrist.

He starts, “I need your name, I should call–”

“Sunwoo!”

It seizes pulsations from inside, and the male student takes his head from you. Features on his face and the blue jacket is immediately recognised by the one below. The student's eyes are wide and Sunwoo’s eyebrows hold a neutral position above.

“Jaehyu–”

“She’s my girlfriend!” Hyunjae takes your wrist from him.

“Why are you still standing here?” He agitates before wandering off the gates with you.

Sunwoo shoves his hands up in height with his chest once again; not risking to start fighting with the reigning hockey player while he’s half drunk, half angry.

“I don’t think I’m allowed in here.” Sounds tense.

“It’s not like you’re here to hook up.”

“They don’t know that.” Hyunjae deadpans.

After both left Sunwoo at the stone stairs, Hyunjae coursed through the shrubbery once again. You seemed confused over the interaction; he doesn’t think you even realized the hand on your own changed. He thought you would sober up during the train ride, but you still took irregular stepping patterns down the warm lighted gravel path.

While down the glass entrance to the soaring female dormitory; Hyunjae motioned you to walk in. But as fast he let go of your shoulder, you stumbled three steps back.

“What should we do then?” Hyunjae asks, frustrated.

“I don’t know, it was your idea to go the party.” You cross arms.

“And yours to get so drunk that you can’t stand.” He spits back.

The night pulls them close when they wait lonely, as if exiled. Summer cicadas swallow their venom words and when one street lamp flickers; Hyunjae sighs and takes a seat down the stairs. You follow.

Once the peaceful moon renders all its light, leaving it to its bones; your head falls to his shoulder. While you carve shapes in its craters, your arms mindlessly pull him close. The strands of your hair accumulate on his neck, and while filed under the same sky, your breath sounds like a soundtrack to him.

Like the passage from day to night; he notices his heart like it’s vastly alive. How many eyes have looked at him adoringly, but he can’t even anxiously look down your side. It’s familiar yet strange, he refuses to acknowledge it. And still you are oblivious, can’t even see his blushing face.

“Shouldn’t you go home?” You ask softly. Tired and slow in contrast to the previous sentence.

“I can’t leave you here.” He finally looks down at you.

“Then you're going to be tired tomorrow.” Guilt visually lines your sunken silhouette.

Hyunjae smiles, “You’re gonna be too.”

He speaks gently again after silence, “Sober up a bit more and you’ll walk up.”

03 . CHAPTER THREE

( saturday midday )

Not because you thought you were immortal anyway, but the next morning came crashing through the roof. While grieving your roof (it wasn’t broken), you swore the ceiling fan was up to mock you in its circles. All while last night lingers as a supercut.

Your two roommates had woken up earlier, they were supposed to go out. Where? You can’t remember; at that point you were still trying to figure out who you bickered with outside Jeno’s stairs.

Either way, the bottom line is; you didn’t throw off your clothes, and no texts from Eric.

The campus is idyllically still in late summer. Bird whistle intertwines with the wind who walks like you through the grass, under the same gravel path Hyunjae led you yesterday. Sun drenched tree crowns and your eyes yearn through the gaps.

There’s a yellow haze over the world and when you take another step; charge in gravel comes from behind. How your legs sway towards the grass border, fleeting levels with your eyes over your shoulder. A bicycle comes half a meter before; stops it with his right foot.

“Oh–Hi, Y/n.”

“Oh, Juyeon?”

He jumps off the saddle and they fall in same line.

“You look a bit tired?” Juyeon asks in a voice, perfect sync with the bird song. Once again the world falls so dream-like behind him.

“Yeah, yesterday was…stressful.” You take a palm up to your forehead.

Juyeon’s smile falters, anxiously tilts his head, “Did I do something last night?”

“No,no–something else happened…not you.” Hand between the open space which you wave reassuringly. His eyes become concerned and yours only redder. Hyunjae’s touch still lingers on that half of your body; you’re afraid Juyeon can see it.

You ask something else instead, “You then? You’re not tired?”

He laughs softly, “A bit.” “But I’m supposed to meet a family friend.”

You nod.

Leaving the last tree behind; the blue sky opens up, just in time for his revelation. Juyeon turns to you fully. Merely one can make out the contour of a light bulb above his head.

“She bought two of our kittens; Lemon and…” He knits his eyebrows, unable to see your eyes, brilliant with curiosity.

“I forgot.” He laughs, “They’re big now, I see them sometimes.”

“Really?”

Juyeon hums, “Do you want to see them?”

“Of course!..if it’s okay for your friend?��

“She’s a lady my mother knows.” Juyeon takes one leg over the bicycle saddle and tilts his head–so that his hair too–points to the rack.

“Jump on.”

To exchange his eyes with the bicycle rack; you purse your lips and walk behind. Hands immediately cling to the metal frame, but as Juyeon weighs forward, you hold onto his shirt.

Juyeon looks back and smiles as you struggle, “Hold my waist or you’ll fall off.”

At this moment, you’re so deeply relieved he hasn’t read your letter. It eases the touch in your hands as they come to his front. Shirt folded above your clasped hands lies like a veil.

That feeling, of when a perfect alignment of past and memory presents. It washes over one as soften, melancholic, whiplash. You hadn’t thought about his scent in years, but as they chase the sun yet never pass it, his shirt touches your cheek. In his home where they used to sit on knees beside each other. It flutters your heart tenderly.

At the high end peak you felt burdensome. Juyeon reassured you while weighing onto the pedals standing. He seemed to quietly persist in breathing through his nose, even when he was audible panting.

He led the bicycle to the front, beneath the shadowed roof; you cast your eyes over the asphalt end. The wind rushes through nature up here. As such the foreground, alive, before the still concrete and bricks.

Juyeon called your name to where he waited beside the door. With a half a shoulder hidden by his own, the bell goes off. A lady opens and smiles instantly as she sees Juyeon. Her wrist in rose patterns reaches out for his shoulder, comforts it gently. Since you’re a stranger; you’re left to awkwardly observe and retell like a narrator.

“Oh, you have a girl with you?” She smiles at Juyeon, which he returns. He introduces you to the lady while she weakly widens the door gap.

She still talks when three cats come to the hallway rug. Curiously they silently circle your legs, but they too can tell you’re no threat.

An orange cat, clothed in layers of orange fur, brushes its head against your calf. You immediately bend down to pet it. To figure out if this fox-like complexion existed in your past too; you tilt your head. But your cat’s were more like crows than foxes.

Apparently something must have shown because Juyeon says from beside.

“This is Belle, they had their own kittens here. Ours are probably resting on the couch.”

You look up, “Oh.”

The old lady goes to the kitchen to take out tea and biscuits. Meanwhile Juyeon guides you to the living room where three other cats lie in the cushions of a worn down brown couch. Their socks tenderly span across the clear floor, and it must have woken them up. You smile briefly when they instantly seem to recognize him; reach their heads up for touch once he sits. All weights deeper down the material once you sit beside him. Touching shoulders to see a cat lick his finger in his lap.

Like a jet black scarf in his jeans pattern; it contrasts from the faint white mark–like a moon at night–on her head.

“She’s so big now.” You say when visions from those evenings before the TV playing Sailor Moon. You called out her name–Luna–that day when you saw her cramped between her siblings.

Juyeon also named a kitten after a TV show he watched..

“Is that Mum Mew?”

Now in direction towards the floor; a larger cat, half underneath the couch, half on your feet.

Juyeon laughs, “He’s Oscar now.” He leans closer and whispers, “I don’t think I’ve ever told her that was his original name.”

They sit there until the lady comes out again.

“It’s so lovely that you got a girlfriend, Juyeon.” She puts down the plate and the two look at her, “I’ve all actually thought about you a lot. I’ve been thinking about calling your mother to set you up with someone, I started to get a bit worried.”

The lady has an attentive x on her face. The skin on her forehead hides nothing as it folds, deeply contemplated. Only with your head down and suppressed smile, can you clearly notice the plates against wooden surfaces. Juyeon scratches his nape frantically while laughing.

"Yeah, uhh–” He stammer.

“You know, by your age, I was with many guys.” She sits down on the opposite chair.

“We got together, then we broke up. I had a guy in Paris who I really liked.” She leans forward, “Back then I was so in love I wanted to stay. I thought he was perfect! Kind, handsome, sex–”

“What’s the type of cookie?” Juyeon suddenly bursts out. Leaned over the table pointing at the brown one that’s obviously chocolate. But the lady doesn’t seem to bother.

“Oh, you see!”

You press your lips, the color might have vanished. Though it was painfully awkward; Juyeon was just adorable enough to turn the situation endearing. She still describes in detail over her mother’s mother recipe; and Juyeon from the side nods his head attentively, like he always does.

After another conversation, the topic returns.

“So when did you meet?”

Turns to exchange question marks between you. His eyes don't say much and you guess yours neither.

Juyeon scratches his nape, “We’ve been friends for sometime.”

Lady nods, “Since when?”

“Like…” He looks at you for confirmation, “...fourteen or fifteen?”

“Did you confess, Juyeon? Or Y/n?” She smiles and looks at you, “Juyeon is a bit shy, I’ll be surprised if he confessed.”

He retreats back to the couch; sinks down the heavy material. You laugh lightly at how his shoulders, swallows by waves of brown textile.

“Y/n actually liked me first back then.” He points out gently.

You freeze.

“Then I confessed in university.”

The old woman does a sweet smile; hands patterned of life lie like a cover over her heart as she looks at both.

For the longer you’re in someone’s presence; one starts to adjust to the traits. But even how many conversations went on and the sun above crossed her roof; your shoulders hardened. Like irreversible death does to your physical state, you seem unable to look to Juyeon’s side. By all stars in the universe; you’re suddenly transparent. Obvious, translucent piercing glass.

You looked out the window at the old woman’s house; terrifyingly, the sky was pink. All the world disappeared at fatal speed when they bicycled back to campus. There must be a sort of brilliant snow, in a color out of our spectrum, that rains down on Earth in summer evening. It leaves the landscape quiet and calm. Cicadas sing when everyone else ceases to.

None of you felt like going to the dorms just yet, instead; you now sit in the auditorium. Though either laugh echoes throughout the wide open space, there’s a dissolving acid in your lungs, begging to drink all air.

All those characteristics of a person reveal to the open world after all these years. Because you can’t remember Juyeon being so persistent in apologizing. They came in on the “girlfriend” incident; he smiled embarrassingly, felt guilty for forcing you in on it. You told him it was okay.

After echoing silence; it soars through the auditorium. Juyeon reaches down his backpack with all its scattered papers. There’s a velvety pulse keeping the space next to you occupied while he’s elsewhere. Once Juyeon comes out of the canvas material; your eyes widen in terror, contrasting the melodic decoration of red velvet and wood.

Your conscious runs desperately from this room, but physical state is in the same seat.

Juyeon holds out a blue letter with your handwriting on it.

“I should’ve said it sooner, I’m sorry.” He says in that gentle tone he always speaks to you with. Maybe a soft arch at the end of the sentence. Nonetheless, you imaginary stabs the mind resting in your bone cradle.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” You look at him once before turning to the empty seat and make an expression. One of deep second hand embarrassment that comes from the very narrow part of ‘me’ and sends like shivers.

“I understand.” Juyeon follows your movements, “You were not supposed to see that letter, they shouldn’t have been leaked.”

Worried you might have genuinely caused borderline trauma for the poor guy; you turn to him, “I’m really sorry.”

“No.” The corners of his lips turn into leaves of a red apple. His eyes clouds the color round the pupil and his height convulses barely as he leans into the seat.

Parts of us never veins, and in front of you, he’s the same boy who patted kittens and was deeply sad when they parted from their mother.

“I’m honestly very touched by it.” He admits.

He was back in his childhood home for the last week before semester. When folding the navy sheets of his old bed; his mother came up. A letter in her hand with turquoise color and bubble arch letters in pink ink. Already, it couldn’t be something written in ‘today’.

And Juyeon is truthful towards you. He read it on the train back home. Always oblivious but grateful nonetheless. Used the window like a passage to the time where you sat beside him on the bedroom floor.

“Really?” You say surprised.

He nods, “I’ve never gotten a love letter before.”

You would scoff and tell him he’s lying, but as his appreciative eyes blur with the blue envelope; you don’t.

“You know, I think you should join the writer��s club here on campus.” Juyeon smiles at you suddenly.

“What?” You lean away.

“Really.” His eyes shapes of honest o’s, “Like–of course there’s some grammar mistakes and you spelt ‘desperatly’ wrong, but you got the feeling!”

Still the same skeptical expression answers him back.

“I’m really serious Y/n.”

Own hands in your lap trail towards each other like opposite poles, “I’ll think about it.”

You watch how he timidly holds the edges and opens the envelope again. Lips shaped in pout like he wonders.

“Does it bother you if I keep it?” He asks.

Head shake, though still confused, “No, you can keep it.”

“Thank you.” He smiles endearingly and tucks it back between the papers and folders.

A revelation wasn’t as horrid as you thought. Hyunjae’s was deeply embarrassing, but there’s a brief space for contemptment in your heart where anxiety wandered before. Like a visual sight of the butterfly; you look up at the auditorium and ponder over the hidden connections.

You didn’t expect anything from Juyeon; that time has passed. But his now grown up presence seems to fulfill this daily life too.

“Did others get letters?” Juyeon breaks silence. Like always, his expression paints past the physical boundaries, and one could make out white lines of curious cat ears.

You figure he means the “they shouldn’t have been leaked”.

You nod and he tilts his head. Visual intrigue and anticipation from his seat, but you close off in rose pigment like tired flowers.

“I'd rather not tell you, it’s a bit embarrassing.” You laugh and Juyeon leans back, reassuring.

This anticipating silence doesn’t cease. It exists as a continuation, a ‘more’ before the ‘end’. One person can’t seem to leave the edge undiscovered, rather, you wait for the red thread to tie its last loop.

“You know Eric has been looking for you? He seems to miss you a lot.” Juyeon finally says. Tone serious than anything else that left his lips.

A stone grows between your throat, not acid. There’s no dissolving, just constant aching as you try to move.

Juyeon continues to talk as you’re silent, “I don’t know what it is, but he’s very understanding…”

He pauses, “...and you know, cause you know him better than I do.”

04 . CHAPTER FOUR

( tuesday, morning )

“Where’s the psychiatrist?”

“At the library.”

“No, I can’t talk to Juyeon anymore.” He groans.

To drift from the flat roofs outside the window; Eric looks at Sunwoo, further the beige walls. Sunwoo’s head is deep tucked beneath the bedding; Eric crawls over from his own bed to the end of Sunwoo’s. When the weight leans towards Sunwoo’s feet, he closes the pink envelope and lets the navy sheets hide it. The cover comes off Sunwoo’s head by Eric. His face like the moon causes an eclipse over the sun and Sunwoo stares unenchanted back at it.

“Y/n still haven't answered my messages, it’s been like three weeks!” Eric forces the pillow down.

“I wouldn’t answer you either.” Sunwoo pats bedding over his chest while Eric throws the pillow at his side.

They just became friends at the end of the last semester and decided to room for this year. As one’s social circles opens up in double doors whenever Eric comes; your name was one of the first he heard. Sunwoo immediately leaned intrigued at the name, but figured it was just a mere coincidence. He was bound to grow from youth and twine old names with new faces.

Either way, destiny doesn’t exist, and he won’t take a bait from the universe. Though, Sunwoo threaded over that principle the week before uni started. He worked at the old summer camp and a letter came during the closing week.

“To Sunwoo”, nothing else. Curiosity took the best of him and he opened the letter to see “From Y/n'' at the end of a massive paragraph.

The universe got him this time, he admits. In how many positions has he reread the letter and dreamt of the yellow filtered summer from when he was thirteen. In truth he reminiscenced about you those summer’s after. Once reaching adulthood, he realized there was no point in yearning, it’s been years. But this late season has turned into the car ride home from that camp, still with you in vision, so close but not here.

At this point ‘Y/n’ feels like a mere fragment of his imagination; therefore he wont tell. Keep your name from any seekers and contemplate.

After laughter; Eric plummets to the bed and looks up at the ceiling, feeling Sunwoo’s legs at his elbow.

“I just don’t understand why she can’t talk to me.” He murmurs.

“Did anything happen?”

Only Juyeon knows about the letter Eric received from his best friend. A confession he has longed for since he lived in his castle (big house), but never would be granted.

Eric thought their connection was stronger than this. Why did you send it if you weren't seeking answers? Why now, this place at this time?

He has traced every curve of your letters; stared at facebook and mail box. Even the refrigerator at night for answers.

Though everything the roommates did this summer; Eric can’t tell him, not yet. It’s the luminous memories coming to his ruins. Sunwoo is his presence.

Silent melancholia climbs above the horizon together with the bleeding sun at the football field. Lines of the goals, rigid and angular, separate the pink-orange growing fragments. Breeze from east colds your heated heart while waiting on the bleachers for Hyunjae.

You were forced to wake up; not following the united routine of the dormitory when he needed help for a training pass at dawn. But he’s not in sight.

Half asleep leaning on the backpack, center of your lap; waiting for something holy to run past.

World’s colors fade into abstraction behind the pupil and a small figure crosses the field. You don’t notice how it leaves the red tracks, closer to the bleachers. Same breeze that touched you passes through its shirt and by mere coincidence. He turns his head opposite from the sunrise and sees you lone illuminated.

Sunwoo recognises the person despite different clothing. There’s an unconscious underlying characteristic in posture. Sunwoo has been entranced by his own world, but he did think a lot of the pretty girl who fell drunk out of the entrance at Jeno’s party.

Slowly his feet take him further from the white lines.

“You’re okay?” His voice tears the plaster away from your vision.

To look up from the bleacher, a ruler higher than the green grass, they make eye contact. It takes a pattern of blinking but at last you speak.

“What?”

“I saw you at the party last Friday, I just wonder if you’re okay?” He repeats.

A sort of second hand deja vu like nausea, spreads from the visual, coming back. Forces the parallel expression to the feeling, down and instead scratches your head.

“Oh.” Eyes widen, “Yeah, I’m okay now, thanks.”

Solitude pushes down into the field with the next breeze. The two of them linger in the same place though the conversation seemed to have ended long ago. You who tie eyes on the far tower of the male dormitory, look back towards him. He stands with barely knit eyebrows, two meters away. It’s not an uncomfortable stare whatsoever, rather curious as the sun rising above the world.

You smile, “You’re trying to place me…”

Trying destiny runs through him but nonetheless he’s taken by the sudden realization. You see how the expression unravels and a single shooting star passes the brown coloration of his left eye.

“You’re Y/n; Y/n from summer camp?”

You don't react as quickly and are now left blaring into the past and present and the same time.

“We went kayaking together, don’t you remember?” He points at himself, “I’m Sunwoo.”

The star falls in east and transcends pink orange shine throughout the campus. For a second; you would have fallen from first row down the grass field with knees bruised of embarrassment, but just in time, you realized that the address written on the letter wasn’t his, just the camp.

“Sunwoo?” Your posture folds higher to come into view with his own. Truly there’s exciting nostalgia within.

“I didn’t know you went here.” You say slowly.

“Me neither.” Sunwoo laughs.

While in awe over the struck of fate; eyes momentarily drift to the right. Another shadow cuts through the horizon and appears closer while jogging across the field. All light still shines in your eyes while standing up. They come in equal footing and quietly watch each other. He looks over behind and sees Hyunjae. Sunwoo doesn’t quite feel like leaving yet; wished they were stored a moment longer.

His arms just barely lifts off his sides to embrace you, but the sharp sequence of Hyunjae and you strikes him at the spinal cord. Not wanting to disrupt your relationship again.

You’re left with wide eyes as Sunwoo runs off the direction he appeared from.

“Bye Y/n, see you around!”

It all just played as if at two times speed. One hand lifts to wave from your side of the world while the last strands disappear beyond the goals.

By peripheral vision, Hyunjae traces Sunwoo. Once more, there’s a torturous sensation growing between marrow bone and heart. When you look his way he feels your eyes held down on him only.

“You never take water with you, Ice God.”

While still a meter across, you throw the water bottle to him and he captures it perfectly. Hyunjae looks up with eye-framed windows like staring at the sun.

“You’re close with Sunwoo?”

Your bag falls to the ground, “We went to summer camp together, I didn’t know he studied here.”

Briefly nod while his bag too comes down the grass. You lucid leaning onto the bleachers again–until Hyunjae starts sprinting in one place. The end strands of his hair in parallel motions and his child-like smile shine between the pauses.

“Let’s run.” He says.

“I have a volleyball match later.” Back falls to the second and third row as you complain.

He laughs and takes your wrist, “Running helps with stress.”

White ribbons knitted along the green corners; they jog the red track field and do a few rounds. Each passage closest to the bleachers you see the shadows diagonally downgrade across the seats.

Despite having their lungs barely reaching air; Hyunjae persists in conversation. It presses from Earth towards your upper body as you unconsciously choose words before steps. But Hyunjae too seems incredibly out of breath for someone that trains as much as he does.

You won’t admit it just yet–if ever–that his company is actually enjoyable.

He lingers across the sport’s center until the shift has ended, and talks to you in insignificant states. In one way; your long shadow at the end of your feet feels guilty. An idea of a self serving dude with too much attention. In truth; he laughs a lot.

“When’s the game?” Hyunjae asks as their feet come out of synch.

They stand still catching breath.

“At three.” You sigh and start walking to the bleachers.

“Then, I’ll skip this lesson.” Hyunjae stands next to you.

He takes out the water bottle you gifted him. Presence from your side lingers on him as he drinks, and he raises his eyebrows at the long look.

“You don’t have to come though.” The lines above eyes cross in a slight perplexed X.

“You were at my game last time, I should come to.” Hyunjae smiles gently.

( tuesday, afternoon )

“Need to go to the toilet; nervousness makes me pee.”

‘21’ in bold font disappears behind the bended wall. You direct towards people in fitted shirts as patterns before the teal walls.

It’s not usual for you to be nervous before games; nor to be completely absorbed by else’s. Now you’re unconventionally a bit more dreamy. The halo in your eyes, up at the sky and shoulder’s slack as if moon-touched. Your teammates pointed it out too when you didn’t answer after ‘Y/n!’.

Sunwoo reentered your life this morning. The boy that had caused such a heartbreak it was unbelievable. And despite your time changes, you found yourself counting the star constellations he told you that summer.

This sort of unending chase starts again, that the letters dated to the old camp will find its way to him. Like a foolish child's secret.

You also wonder why Hyunjae was so persistent on going to your match. One could thread through the interactions and guess he’s become comfortable in your life too. But there’s a brief self reflection. You neither rejected him to come or encouraged. Maybe you want someone up on the bleachers shouting your name, even if it’s not Eric.

Wooden floor reflects the studio lights like water. Eyes wanders immediately from teammates up to the bleachers. Blue plastic seats on row, to the very windows where it barely collides with the roof. There’s a few silhouettes in groups up on the high rows. Everyone waving their hands to someone, not you.

When you see number 21 stop before the white line and bring her arm high up to one standing; you suddenly regret not messaging Eric. Though, just as fast; he maybe wouldn’t even have showed up?

One loud whistle comes from the left; your head directs off the green line tracing vertically. Sees teammates reach their hand out for you to the ring building at the side of the rectangular room. On the opposite, mirrors like theirs in green shirts, they gather.

Thin water like bubbles trace down the narrow row from your temples. All these bubbles that have accumulated beneath the shirt, down knees and threading your throat like a transparent necklace.

Once the last whistle soars across ceiling; you return to the corner of teammates. Someone touches your arm while running for water; a teammate smiles sincerely but exhausted.

When shoes are in line with the white painted diagonal; your name chants above all noise. From the floor, your eyes see Hyunjae coming down the blue seats. You aren’t able to reiterate his name before arms of his own wrap around shoulders.

The invincible spot of cologne sits beneath his shoulder blade. Evoking gently as your chin, supported by the broad shoulder. You hesitantly hug him back and try to look at his face but only reaches his ear.

Suddenly you feel a bit insecure.

“I’m really sweaty, Hyunjae.” You laugh awkwardly.

“Yeah,” His hands retrites without walking back.

Lips curve to gentle his face and the eyes like porcelain.

“, and it fits you.”

A strand falls before your eyes; tucked in by his hands like a dove’s wing.

Once the match heat flush red, another round of pigment paints your cheeks. There’s no hinder above your eyes left, but still you shake your head and cough; all while Hyunjae still smiles.

“Thank you, Jaehyun.”

His expression, more blinding than the long lights above. It’s impossible to not curl up before. You have a certain love for looking away when adoration blooms like spring season on him. Somehow you seemed to have missed when he came to the bleachers too.

It’s quiet, but Hyunjae still feels like hearing your voice.

He starts, “You did grea-”

“Y/n!”

A voice so deeply teared apart and assembled within your mind, that it exists stored in the furthest corners. There’s a certain nerve created just to react to that tone fall, you believe.

With eyes widened and fingers loosen from each other; you pierce towards the blue door. People still run past your double vision, but for a second the world stopped.

Eric stands with hands in the blue frame. The universe must’ve heard that wish you prayed before, and in some way, full of relief and exhaustion, you’re happy it did. Eric is visually as hesitant as you, bearing fear and soft in heart pulses.

“Sorry, Hyunjae, it’s something important.” You jog up to the double door determined. With one last glance to the bleachers, “See you later! …Thanks for coming!”

Confinement exists excruciating; you hoped it was just the sunbleached walls with square hole windows that trapped them. But not even the open atmosphere, heaven to the infinite universe could save them from what’s been left unsaid.

Eric asked while passing doors “I have messaged you for two weeks, why didn’t you answer?”. You could only look at him for a second before turning to the open field. His expression begs of confusion, but truly you think he knows why.

It’s silent. Wind from east campus brushes between the grass. You become the only thing stagnant along the heavy constructions weighing down on Earth as Eric walks up the bleachers. Blue faded denim pockets console his hands as he holds sight on his converse before white plastic.

“You didn’t even tell me you had a game today.” He refuses to make eye contact.

Head falls low; everythings to remind you that guilt is the heaviest matter on Earth.

Theoretically, it’s supposed to be useless feeling alone or unloved with a person like Eric. Sometimes you catch yourself staring in mirrors to search for another pair of eyes. But it’s hard to be miserable when Eric’s been a phone call away.

It was lonely without you, but I pushed you away.

“I’m sorry.” You finally say.

It’s the only thing you get out as you walk up the bleachers. Together on the second row; they watch the green grass and its maroon building boxes. A mellow sun on the edge of disappearing while the land continues flat forever. A wind of different temperature while the concrete still radiates warmth.

“I’m sorry for ignoring you Eric.” You speak again.

Their shoes in different font over the white row; you look at them before his side appears in the same position as you. They make eye contact in what feels timeless and it trips on your heart.

“I was-”

“It’s oka-”

There’s silence as they stare at each other; anticipating the other. Though the ink period of the passage becomes laughter as their shoulders collide like the southern and north pole. It ends up being Eric who speaks.

“You’re forgiven.” He smiles and Earth sighs of relief with you.

The two poles of their angular edge bind them gently. North and south diasporas sit in silence, whispers of the flat city come from all directions and it smells like grass or nothing in particular.

A closed connection where everything flows freely without hinder; you had nearly forgotten about that feeling.

Courage drapes whatever embarrassment was left in you. To breathe in before honest confession. That you love him deeply still, though any romanticized visions are of the past.

As you think of it; a part of the old self frees and runs with you back towards the grass field.

“I actually like you too, Y/n.”

It hitches in your throat.

“You don’t have to answer yet.” His smile reeks of cotton candy, and the hand on her shoulder before he leaves radiates in puddles like theme parks.

“I’ll wait for you, princess!” Eric shouts with his hand in his pockets before turning his back. The same nickname he’s called you since seven, never understanding why.

The stark contour of the real world fades as he disappears towards the dormitory until he’s just a mere dot.

It’s still warm, but summer has made one privileged. You feel like wearing a jacket as your old self now takes the empty space beside.

05 . CHAPTER FIVE

( thursday, afternoon )

Ji Changmin has never been great at sport, and that’s never with a big N. Last night the breaking news of a 2 day beach party got delivered by the infamous friend group, and of course, everyone would be playing the mandatory volleyball games.

Changmin took his backpack and ran, hoping Eric would be too busy arguing with someone else to notice the empty chair. But at last, Changmin walked up the dormitory corridor with Eric hanging from his left calf like chained. Desperately begging that it wouldn’t be the same if everyone doesn’t come.

One thing led to the other and every dorm heard a passing march of footsteps to the other end. Changmin was running after Eric whilst he screamed of absolute terror (traumatized from the year before when changmin chased him down the campus, drunk). In a last attempt of escape; Eric jumped Juyeon’s room and made a borderline olympic leep down the bedding before Juyeon processed the door had been opened.

Like the unofficial therapist he is; Juyeon told Changmin he has a friend in the volleyball team that can teach him this afternoon so as to not embarrass himself completely.

And that’s how you stand in the same hall; wide eyed and chills growing like rose stems it might strangle you. Though, you could’ve been more embarrassed as Changmin looks about the same.

With an aggressive tilt to your shoulder while eyelids reach your eyebrows; a firm stare directed at Juyeon. Quietly it signals “what the fuck didn’t you tell me it was Changmin?!”.

He doesn’t get it.

“...and he’s really bad.” Juyeon ends while smiling.

“I’m not that bad.” Changmin side eyes the taller one; also in search for some backup.

“Yes, you are silly.” His eyes crease in turn with the ends of his lips. From the right side, his hands come up to ruffle the sprout of Changmin’s head.

All three compiled the net up. You had no interest in bringing up the letter for either Changmin or Juyeon; therefore you rigid and pale served the first shot.

But thankful for Juyeon’s excitement and obliviousness (surprising) to the reunion he just set up; the tension wore off Changmin’s shoulder and your pigments returned.

All would rotate between the two sides of the net. You would purse lips to a thin line and turn the plastic of your shoes on the hard floor before running up to Changmin to show him how to serve. At first you stood a little less than a meter behind him; shoved gestures in the air to somehow manipulate his own body to do the same movements. But at last you went up to him, held his hand like gentle rain.

There was not a bruise or patterns of shades on his palms. Either he’s absolutely addicted to hand cream or those text books of his must enchant his skin while turning pages.

Changmin felt fragile like all ancient history when you showed him. He tried to be quiet, shyly only talking to Juyeon, but couldn’t help but let out shrieks every time he missed or won. It was just like board games at the dinner table when their parents whispered in the other room.

You suddenly shout, “Move!”

Juyeon’s on the opposite side of the two and forced the ball up to the roof with neck breaking power.

You see how Changmin doesn’t; instead glued to the floor with knees rigid and his hands come up in chest length as if it will save him. You desperately swing your shoulder to the right, but all actions are in vain when their foreheads collide. Force acts up on them and leads them to the ground. Swear it was visible stars circling both heads.

As the collision wears off and presence hits you as a second impact; terrified you watch Changmin between own two arms down the floor. Legs have his stomach tied to the flooring;

where in all directions you are. And when they both blushes of embarrassment; Changmin’s hands come a little higher up his chest.

“You’re supposed to chase the ball.” You stutter and hastily push up from him but miserably fails as the clothing material slips on the floor.

“I’m sorry-”

Changmin, just as terrified, apologizes while pushing himself off the floor. One way and two directions; they shut their eyes painfully as the point between their eyebrows hit each other again. One step further down his stomach.

“You didn’t even tell me we had started.” Changmin complains and holds his forehead, looking at Juyeon who climbs under the net.

You slide off him; knees supporting any weight while at the end of his calves. Great silence from the tunnel system in the high ceiling expands over the yellow walls. It scratches in their throats that you cough. It was enough to crack the tension layered like a glass dome.

“I don’t feel the same, Y/n.” Changmin sits up.

“Yeah, I know.” You sigh because you know what he means without asking. Fingers left racing the floor.

“Old story; you were not supposed to get it, I’m sorry.” Guiltily purse lips in, “Also, sorry for falling on you.”

Suddenly gentle, his legs come over in crisscross and he leans closer to your figure.

“Yeah…it’s fine.” He confirms in same tone, “Though, I appreciate it. The letter.”

He pauses.

“...I had no idea.” Changmin admits.

You laugh, “Really? I was super obvious.”

“You think so?” He skeptically smiles.

To bring your arms to an imaginable table and articulate, “I literally held my arms over the textbooks to lean over to you..”

“I just thought you were a bad listener.” Changmin smiles, bothered, like he always does.

They both laugh.

Another shine made by the sun outside draws with a ruler down the yellow wall. It has an angular cut in where it has a darker wooden frame just above the floor. Like the highlight is a window to the midsummers of one’s childhood; you dare to hold eyes open and watch.

They used to sit at the dining table where the pattern cloth folds at your knees. Because you were way too shy to invite him behind your room door. Sometimes, laughs loud enough for them to hear came from the living room where both their mom’s sat. Mostly they whispered; never understood why.

When they were younger, he was mostly intimidating. So much taller and just his glasses felt like a sign of great intelligence. But truly his personality held some sort of shine you believed was a leftover from some ancient spell along the yellow fields.

With their families having dinner sometimes; the two of them used to play board or card games late into the afternoon when the adults still sat along the dinner table. You didn’t want to invite your brother when you finally had time to talk to Changmin without it being about math, but he was way too nice to leave him out.

“Is your cat good?” Changmin asks suddenly, “Or is he dead?” He knits his eyebrows.

“Yeah, he’s dead.” Smiles and thinks of how Scuba Steve, in his orange white complexion used to jump into Changmin’s lap while he was tutoring. And when he talked to him so sweetly and petted him along the long fur; her teenage self used to dream about their future (delusion).

“It feels like he liked everyone more than me.” You admit while leaning into your palm.

“I’m sure he liked you too.” He laughs.

“Are you going to the beach party?” Changmin suddenly asks, “You’re close with Eric, right?” He knits his eyebrows, “Aren’t you together with Jaehyun too?”

“No, no, no, I’m not with Jaehyun.” You fall back to the floor and hands melt down your face.

“Don’t tell him I said that though.” You add, “But no, I’m not going.”

“Why not?”

Visions from the past weeks pass like a bad trailer and you close your eyes. Sunwoo and Eric run across the field in a sort of evangelical light and Hyunjae in the far corner.

You sort of lie, “It’s complicated. I don’t want to meet Eric.”

Changmin stands up, “I’m only going if you do.”

“Don’t do this.” You complain.

“No, whatever’s going on, we’re fixing it now.” He takes your shoulder and forces you up. You whine again and try to make the weight fall back to Earth.

“I’m fighting volleyball and you’re fighting Eric, great!” He cheers.

There was a lot more than Eric you had to fight this weekend.

The ball goes flying in their direction again. It lands on Changmin’s head and forces his glasses to the floor. They both look to the right and see Juyeon stand awkwardly upright, hands hanging like leaves as he longs for the ball.

“I missed.” He deadpan.

You take the ball and look at Changmin. He smiles knowingly before you both rush at Juyeon.

( friday, morning )

“Do you want some?”

Your head turns to the right where the sun shines through the glass brighter. It ceases through the back of his loose strands like the tree crowns from summer camp.

When you came down to the bus station, Changmin waved at you from a stack of backpacks piled like a mountain. Juyeon stood slightly behind and followed the shoerter’s movements. You asked them if they plan on moving with that; Changmin answered it was Juyeon’s and Eric’s bags. He had–while straightening his posture–just taken the necessary.

When all had arrived, you got a third row seat at the back beside Sunwoo. You had met again on campus. It turned out between all those words that both were going to the party this weekend. You mentioned how you’re mainly here as Changmin’s emotional support.

Sunwoo– a little horrified– told you he’ll have eyes in the back of his neck for this trip. Hyunjae, Eric or anyone else for that matter could come up from behind and throw hsi poor body in the water. With both in desperate situations, they jokingly built a pact to have each other’s back on this trip.

So when you sit beside Sunwoo, and look down the space created against the armrest where he reaches out a pink package. He shakes it and you smile before taking a hand off the backpack.

“You stole my pocky?”

Tearing away from that space; they look behind the red seat to see Eric leaned over the two. He pierces down at Sunwoo with a dumbfounded O of his lips and starts pointing at the roots of Sunwoo’s hair which he ducks away from.

“I didn’t steal it.” He defends.

“It’s mine, I bought it this morning.” Eric looks at you, begging for sympathy, “Now I have no snacks.”

“You said you weren’t going to eat them.” Sunwoo hides them.

“They’re mine!” Eric hangs down the seat. Immediately you take the edge of his sleeve as if he’ll fall on you.

“You’re gonna eat them now?” Sunwoo taunts, “Take the jelly grapes.” He throws out a plastic package from his bag while still chewing.

“Let’s split it.” Eric deadpans while holding out his palm.

“I’ll buy you one later.” Sunwoo repeat.

Eric laughs from above, “You literally just asked Y/n!” He points.

Sunwoo gets quiet for a second; looks up et Eric, before back at Y/n.

“Can’t you just eat the grapes?” He shakes the package up in Eric’s face.

Feet fall back to the floor, the row behind them and Eric, still dumbfounded, points at Sunwoo while stunned searches for assent in you.

“He’s shameless.” Eric sits down.

Where the dense complexes only ends when shore starts, the bus ride isn’t long. Despite constant traffic, conversations over the unconscious roaring of the bus engine; you resisted the falling weight of eyelids but at last, gave in. The last minutes when blue hues start to form between the windows and houses lined up against the sand. Head falls onto Sunwoo’s shoulder.

Changes surprises him, but just as immediately he gently falls back into his seat and your head comes between his neck like the last piece of a 100 puzzle. How could he describe the violent but gentle flutter that grows from a part in his chest and blooms into all directions. And when each stem leaves its youth and creates rosen petals at his fingertips; the playlist in his headphones changes song.

A melody of 80s slow paced rhythm and a voice soft like silk; lies over the muted woven chorals and yellow of the beach houses. Tiny flowers in perfect composition, like a trail across each street and when he sees the roof of the largest beach houses, just below the shore; Sunwoo wishes the bus would take one more round.

He dares to look down. He has seen this image before. All those movie nights in the dining room at summer camp evening. When he rushed to take the seat beside you before anyone else. And towards the end of the long hour you couldn’t keep your eyes open and leaned just like now, on his shoulder. It’s been so long but it doesn’t feel like a season has passed since that summer when he sees your hand lightly touching his own.

“You need sunscreen, Jaehyun!” You wave the blue plastic tube while slipping down the sand. Hyunjae looks over his shoulder, smirking questionably to her while you come closer.

“You’ll get skin cancer.” You squint when the blue sky shines behind him.

“You do it then.” He smiles.

Holding hands above your eyes, hoping it’ll cease all rosen blushes, “I’m not your mom.”

“Please, Y/n.” He shakes your forearms, pouting. At first your own hands come up to his chest to force him off, but retrites like touching a hot stove as he’s shirtless.

“Okay, okay.”

Overarching sand, up to the wooden porch, frees from the rest when they walk up. Hyunjae quickly takes the lead when he jumps up on fixed ground and takes a seat on the edge of the porch. How he wiggle his legs like an excited child while smiling so brightly; you didn’t know he could. You fall to knees behind him and awkwardly look over his hair.

“Can’t you just do it yourself?” Sun highlights his skin from above. The sharp points of his shoulders, down to his arms, seem soothing against the sharp sand. That specific smell of sunscreen, so deeply ingrained into summer, trace along the porch. Your palm hesitantly moves back and forth between the flexed spot of his shoulder.

“Just do it, Angel.” Hyunjae looks back at you encouragingly, but you quickly lie the cold sunscreen on his skin to divert him. In the clear summer sun spotlight, your cheeks luminates of struck pink.

“Ah, it’s cold.” Hyunjae’s shoulder rises up and you continue soothing it in one hand.

“Don’t complain.” You try to sound normal.

They got along more than you originally thought. Hesitant to calling people friends, but you guess that's what they are. Though, friends shouldn’t blush of nervousness from innocent touch, right? Especially when Hyunjae leans back further into your hand, and you wonder if it’s wrong.

At the same time; Eric peeks from the doors to the beach house. He tries to convince himself he’s longingly looking at the open shore, but it’s merely a background to Hyunjae and you.

It’s not that you’re lying, he thinks. You looked more than authentic that day, he asked if they were together and you denied. It’s not a competition, but still he feels a burn coming from another direction than the sun when your hands go to his neck and Hyunjae laughs from tickling.

“Y/n!”

You turn from Hyunjae and see Eric coming closer. All that in one motion, you forgot about the painfully obvious red of your face. It isn’t until Eric’s eyes widens and he falls in height to take your left cheek.

“You’ve burned yourself, Y/n.” Eric traces with his thumb the rose colors of your essence and to feel it coming off your skin, embarrassingly paint your soul. At this point, nervousness would leak out from your skin, but by Eric’s and Hyunjae’s wide eyes and open mouths; they’re completely oblivious to their work.

“N-” Stuttering out the beginning of a no; you stop suddenly as there’s no good excuse for the color.

“Let me help you.” Hyunjae reaches for the tube down the wood and you immediately try back from Eric’s gentle palms.

“No, no, no, it’s just heat.”

“Water.” Eric wants to get you on foot, take you to the kitchen.

“You need a cold bath.” Hyunjae says quickly after and without looking at Eric takes you in bridal style. Hand lets go of Eric’s and he’s left standing as you in panic tries to convince Hyunjae to turn away from shore. Hyunjae laughs while shouting that you’ll overheat.

It’s a dark seemingly normal, but guilty jealousy Eric watches the older one throw his best friend down the water. You’re quick on your feet again, and start chasing Hyunjae further down. Laughs come from that side while Eric tears his eyes off the new waves; clench his fist because frustration might visibly leak out his skin, and turn back to the house to take his mind off.

It was only a limited amount of sups, you shared one with Changmin. They had agreed to alt the paddle in interval, but it was you who ended up dragging them both along the surface while Chnagmin sat behind, criticizing the solo sups.

His victim was mainly Juyeon who traversed the first ocean layer for a good minute playing God until he lost balance. The entire group laughed while he tried to climb up. At the same time Sunwoo laughed so hard he was second to fall in.

Changmin did well, all things considered, when it was beach volleyball. Juyeon and you cheered on him. That brought him enough confidence to stand at the front. Which wasn’t his greatest moment as he fell head first into the net.

Sun’s, fleetly asleep above the horizon. All those hours of shine still left like a memory in the sand while four of them still play, the rest swimming, taken a seat with the group who grills or in the house. Laughter with the waves collide, creating a divide of foam. Breeze ensues their hearts.

It smells of garlic smoked marinade from behind once the ball comes over again. Though at first refusing to go, you’re still thankful for Changmin who desperately forced a game over either way.

Soon there’s food and you sit on the porch once again. Sunset like a filter over the shore and its houses, maybe the heart too.

“I have some for you.”

You look up at who you thought was Eric, with a brightly printed paper plate, gathered of the same choices since childhood. But you blink once, realize it’s Sunwoo. He takes the space beside where only vague music accompanied earlier.

“Oh, thank you, Sunwoo.” You smile and take the second plate.

“No worries.” He bends down to eat a bite of his own food.

A scenery in fleeting composition, scattered of dust passes through the peripheral.

“I remember you used to take food to me back then too.” Unconscious of the tender light you hold while tracing the oil leaking across plastic shine.

“Yeah,” He looks at his chicken, “Cause you were always busy sorting stones.”

You scoff, “Why? You’re judging my hobbies?”

“No,” He answer truthfully, “It was cute.”

“My stones?” You tilt.

“You.”

Sunwoo’s voice is monotone like it wasn’t supposed to blemish your heart like the orange and dark blue sky divide. The bones across your shoulders and hover over chest convulse in like wings of the delighting butterflies.

Sunwoo looks up from the food, “I don’t really remember how your stones looked.”

You smile and take a bite, “I guess that’s why I married you back then.”

Still confined between your own frame to prevent any sheer wings of escape; you miss how his ears perked up together with his horrible posture. Him in his sharp complexion becomes adorably curious.

“You remember that?” He says surprised.

“Of course.” She says as if it’s obvious. Sunwoo looks down at the sand as if to see the smitten reflection of his face in them.

“I actually didn’t think you’d remember.” He says quietly.

Another song on the playlist comes on and a group of people rush beside them. Jumping off the porch; their silhouettes darken in pink contrast as water evaporates on their burnt arms.

Sunwoo dares to look to your side; still eating and it further reminds him of times in circles when they sat next to each other. Something absurd with seeing you again like this. For some nameless reason you have lived all these years as a little girl in his memories, constantly visiting when summer’s approaching. Now you're here, finally at the same age.

He knows he shouldn’t advance, shouldn’t take a step closer on the porch. Since behind him just some meters further, Hyunjae sits. How adoringly he thinks of Hyunjae because he has you unconditionally by one side.

“I remember you told me about the stars.” You suddenly say.

Sunwoo looks at you then the skies, vaguely guilty that there's nothing's left to see yet.

He smiles, “Damn, I can’t see them, otherwise I would’ve told you about them again.”

You hold head tilted at his side while his eyes still squint for a light away to hit them, “You can show me later.”

You don't know what has crawled into you lately, but it’s dependent and has zero abstinence.

As if the hangover from last week wasn’t enough to convince you; you’re drunk once again (this time in the kitchen). Juyeon worriedly came over, asking if you’re always this bad with alcohol. In turn you took his shoulders dramatically and said no, shaking him.

And you weren't the only one. In the same vein, at another window by the house; Eric found Sunwoo staring dead into the reflection. When asked what he was doing, Sunwoo simply replied he’s staring at bird shit and laughing like it was the funniest thing.

Most people are still outside. Fairy lights might look like fireflies in this state as it cradles lightly from night weather. As people cross the sand it changes patterns. It lays a plastic cup further away which Eric runs to pick up. You don't know what song is playing when the high frame expands as walls in all directions, but you think it’s good.

“Can you dance?” You look at Sunwoo. He turns confusingly with bad posture from the bird shit. An awkward beat drop passage muffled by the walls takes the silence.

Suddenly you jump up to him in another rhythm than the beat. Smiles wholeheartedly while waving arms.

“I can’t.” You answer your own questions and do a spin.

Sunwoo’s hangs down its sides like towels over the branches. You reflect in highlights by his porcelain eyes. He must look extremely out of it as the pupils can’t concentrate on the shifting lights and his amused smile. But you couldn’t tell.

You force his tired arms up in an awkward rocking-back-and-forth swing. He laughs that his teeth show when you start complaining how he’s stiffer than the expensive couch behind them.

“Let’s tango.” You take his arms and they start circling around the room with either hand on their shoulders and next in each other’s clasp, straight forward. Sunwoo’s laugh overpowers the music as they nearly collide with the couch. Through the window frame they must look like a middle school couple.

And as if galactic alignment was truly divine; the next song on the playlist slows to a vintage soundtrack as if from an old romcom. They’re still laughing when the circles haste and all weight stills on the carpet lining.

They’re so drunk, Sunwoo can’t hold himself when your face comes so close.

“You know…” He starts.

“No.” You deadpan.

“Don’t speak.” Sunwoo complains and you fall one step backwards from laughing.

“You know, we’ve reached our 11th marriage anniversary.” He smiles drunkenly, “I think I deserve a kiss for surviving our long distance.”

“You haven’t even shown me the stars yet.” You whine and curl his hand in a weird way.

“I know, I know.” He screws his eyes, it looks like it hurts.

“Just give me a kiss and we’ll go outside.” He purses his lips out.

“Can you even name the constellations still?” You knit your eyes.

“Of course, there’s Little bear.” Sunwoo points at your nose. You contract your head and watch his finger tip with big eyes.

“I’m actually a Capricorn.”

Sunwoo’s lips curve harder as his head falls between the space created from their chests. You watch the root pattern of his hair before he comes up again.

“You’re really cute.” He smiles.

You can’t help clasp his hands and twine fingers even harder, “Really?”

He nods that his fringe follows.

“Am I cute too?” Sunwoo asks, leaning in.

You think, rolling your eyes slowly, “No.”

He pouts with big eyes.

“Again,” He flicks your nose lightly.

“Me or the flowers?” Sunwoo points at a vase beside the couch. You turn over your shoulder to see the arrangement of pink blemishes with white roots.

You pretend to think, “Hmm.”

There’s a anticipation like a butterfly on the last leaf, flickering its sheer patterned wings before taking off. Just like that, it pulses of thousand wings in both your hearts. All as Sunwoo lean in closer. Fingers laced through the other like silk and he pulls you closer by them. When the heat accumulated in the chests collide, with your lips merely touching his own. The tension weighs heavy, it might impend on the room.

The door from the kitchen beside them forces open.

Both Sunwoo and you loosen the lace and throw yourself onto the couch. A painful thud erupts from the back rest when Sunwoo crashes nape first. Your condition is in dangerous state, therefore you land about 10 centimeters too short and glide off the couch to the floor.

When the outer door closes and Eric passes by the frame, he sees Sunwoo decked out; arms hanging lifelessly and his mouth opened, supported by the backrest.

The cup in his hand nearly topples over when he rushes to stand it on any flat surface. It pulses through the floor when Eric comes down to you. A cold hand from all the ice soothes your forehead and you look up to see Eric’s fringe like a sheer curtain before his eyes.

“You’re okay?” He asks worriedly, “How much have you drunk?”

Eric takes your arm and scolds you gently. As you stand up you incoherently try to defend yourself, but quit abruptly as Sunwoo comes into the story.

Eric guided you up to the bedroom’s at second floor, leaving Sunwoo to die.

“Eric?” You lie down.

“Mm?” He flatten out the sheet above you.

“I forgot.”

Eric snorts, “Really?”

“Mm.” You insist.

Two essence divided between the mattress line in the mit; still staring at the same ceiling. Eric never leaves your side; instead insists on talking about nothing and everything while time wraps in a 4th dimension of one's mind until you can’t rhetorically answer “Mm?”.

Eric finally ceases to babble when shifting his head to your side. The pillows bud like a flower on his cheek when his body completely draws to your field. He knows you will probably feel like shit tomorrow morning, but for now you lie neatly above the creases like white flower of a heaven’s cross field.

The incredible magnetic field of your essence seems to draw in more admirers than just himself, Eric understands. He barely convinces himself that the letter is an eventual sign of their destined love, but just barely.

I can’t know who you dream about as you sleep soundly right now, he thinks while admiring. A face or two flashes before him and Eric sits up. Quietly look at the framed picture on the wall before back down at you.

For now, he’s in denial.

Eric takes one hand off your side to lay on your stomach. His bare fingertips dare to soothe out nothing’s on the cheek just to feel your warmth. He hesitates for a second, but before fully walking off the bed and closing the door; he bends down to kiss your cheek, just gently.

06 . CHAPTER SIX

( monday, midday )

The day has finally come–or not come as in an anticipated date set in stone from the past–rather Hyunjae woke up and felt courage. The last weeks they’ve seen each other nearly every afternoon, and for each time he imagines himself having persuaded you a little closer. And the last beach party seems to have been the silver lining for his confidence to finally confess how he feels.

This afternoon they will meet on the track field for some regular training, but what you don't know is that he will be asking you to be his girlfriend, seriously this time.

Though, between the lecture times, staring at strangers from the row tables; he consciously realized he doesn’t quite know what you like. Or of course, he knows you like astrology, biology, cat’s, exercising but just enough that you can walk guilt free home to the bed. That you always walk around with a first aid kit, and like a mother bandage burnt skin or wrecked ankles.

But none of that is of use when your heart is supposed to flutter at his mere sight this afternoon.

So at a table in the cafeteria; Hyunjae takes the opposite chair of a round table where Eric sits alone. Enticed in his own world; he jumps when the chair creaks of his weight.

Hyunjae figured it was just to ask Eric, your best friend for advice. The older may stand a ruler inferior in emotion to Eric than Juyeon, but nonetheless they have spent many house parties together, jumping off the high roof or throwing pillows at the third.

Eric always looks at him with a smile, nearly identical to his own. But right now, the red blisters' contours wave lower than what it usually does. His eyes adverts between the sad glass divide over the sandwiches and Hyunjae. But the older forces it in an identical manner to the left.

Eric nonchalantly told him he doesn’t know what you would romantically like from him. Hyunjae complained saying he should know since they’re best friends, but Eric reiterates his line, “Yeah, just friends.”

Hyunjae doesn’t cease from the chair, neither his voice. Eric looks at the sandwiches again and guilty bruises his fingers underneath the table. In Eric’s eyes; Hyunjae could win over anyone by just slowly articulate every crook of their name.

It’s not to admit that he’s threatened, Eric thinks. To rationalize the frustration he theorize Hyunjae hasn’t taken enough of a time to get to know you.

Eric’s never been evil. His moral compass holds him on the sane lane; even when emotions begs to pull the other way. But right now, while in silence, the magnetic field of the Earth pulls on the arrows.

“Okay.” Eric puts down the drink. Hyunjae leans in attentively.

“She wants a big, HUUGE confession. You know, those in rom coms where the guy comes out with a huge boombox and gives her flowers and has a big sign.” Eric takes his arms up in the, above his chest in height with his hair. To visually stun him he waves his hands down like confetti and shakes a hypothetical boombox. All while Hyunjae’s expression all visually gets more nervous.

“Okay.” He walks up without looking at Eric. Head deep down the floor as if thinking.

( monday, afternoon )

The white streaks wrapped as a present lining across the field is the same as every time he walks past. But even when the scenery is familiar to his conscious, the heart anxiously breathes in quick patterns. It causes invincible scratches at the inner side of his hands while his eyes can’t hold a scene for longer than a second. There’s a couple walking past the fields down the west campus; Hyunjae’s head follows them until their backs are a mere blemish along the sidewalk.

With his hand tightly knitted behind his back he looks at the grass growing up from under his shoes. Suddenly he looks up again.

Like the world just ended; the sun’s growing, tearing all the accessible and it rounds the golden halo. You’re just left in trance watching how it all beautifully collapses. That’s what your presence does to his troubled heart when your upper body comes up the staircase.

You wave with your free hand as you see him at the center of the rectangular land. Hyunjae doesn’t mirror it, instead refuses to change any position. You tilt your head in wonder for a moment, but nonetheless carry on towards his figure, until there’s just a meter across.

“Hi, Jaehyun.” You say gently.

“Hi, Y/n.” He shifts his head so that a part of hsi fringe falls forward.

You turn to see his side profile, as if he’s sick. With concerned woven shape of your face, you ask, “Are you okay?”

An awkward tenderness in his fronting psyche. To touch his shoulder might cause it to splinter in its frozen preserved state. Hyunjae clasps his hands that’s still behind; gaze your face as if though you were the first he’s ever seen.

Silence insists to frustratingly exist after your question.

When a scene of the entire world, flipped in your eye; he breathes in and falls with one to the grass. His hand trails as if cold to the pocket and takes out his phone, turning the speaker outlet in your higher direction.

“Will you make me the happiest man in the world, Y/n?”

A bouquet in pastel silk tightly concealed in a ribbon of a darker shade.

“Hold on.” Hyunjae drops the mobile to the ground; the music practically disappears as it swallows by the grass.

All eyes on the thin space of his front pocket as he struggles to let loose the bits of red paper. At last some gather in his palm and he throws it up in the air as enthusiastically one can without a canon. The flowers now fully extended as the last bits of craft paper adorn his head.

A sore spot on his left knee aches under this weight. The teeth of his smile, slowly together as he bear witness to your expression, blinking cause your lips are opened but stunned. Though he can’t read good or horrible. As he starts tilting from instability he clenches the flowers tightly.

“I didn’t find a boombox, and the party store was closed.” Hyunjae looks behind you instead of up. Embarrassingly wonder if you would have wanted a grand confession in the college cafeteria. He won’t say it, but in all honesty he didn’t have the guts for that.

It feels like you’ve seen this scene before; in some movie lost to time, you’re sure it has crossed you once. The sad petals taken by the wind, fallen on his shoulders or thread beneath your feet. But still might be the most soft of all thousand interactions of your life.

Hyunjae seems embarrassed, you can’t fully tell; he looks at you from passages but sways towards the right at the end. How the past and present crashes at once to see him fully and clearly without cover. He’s such a vision that this should flutter all the lonely parts in the arch marrow body, but nothing goes off.

It’s like standing on the fourth of may, but no fireworks light up.

You finally smile gently, still eyes on Hyunjae. His expression waits for even a whisper, but instead a hand crosses between the fragile space. Yours takes his wrists, behind where the fingers cross the stems. Gently tugging him up from the grass as the last bits of paper rock down his shoulders.

“It’s really lovely, Jaehyun.” You smile and he’s finally up.

The space opens again.

“But I can’t.” You look at him as both lips synchronize withers.

“I’m sorry.”

A heavy wind brushes past; lies a weight on your hearts. Hyunjae, who has never once been the one pushed away, hears lone footsteps echo in the boned structure. It’s a bit embarrassing, it’s a bit sad; he feels like he maybe shouldn’t have said anything.

You see in full vision how his mind travels elsewhere. Still with flowers and the barely audible mobile that now has changed track to a mellow love song of 80s nostalgia. How depressing everything suddenly became.

“I still like you, Jaehyun,” You break the silence, “You were honestly a lot nicer than I originally thought.”

He looks up.

You smile weakly, “When I saw you on campus I thought you flirted with every woman and acted all big.” You gesture with your shoulders and Hyunjae laughs slightly.

“But you’re actually very kind.”

He reaches out the flowers once again. You look up at him with eyes, x-ed expression.

“It’s still your flowers, I want you to have them.” He says gently.

You hesitate but he shakes them in front of you. Once loosen on the tensioned shoulders; you take one hand out for the stems and look at them closely. Deeply pink with faded inner circles.

( wednesday, afternoon )

That table at the cafeteria where they always meet has been occupied two days in a row. You come by between classes and yearn through the window, but at last; there’s always a shirt in a color Eric wouldn’t wear sitting in his place.

At the changing distance through the evening, at the lone table beside your bed; all those papers in painful yellow highlight, tire sore eyes and vision yearns for the computer at the other side. Watch the letter box they communicate through everyday, but is now quiet.

You’ve messaged Sunwoo through facebook; asked him why Eric ceased from Earth. He answered through digital letters that he’s busy, but truthfully Sunwoo knows better than anyone Eric scatters to avoid you. Eric won’t fully admit why; the closest to a confession Sunwoo got was a bleak understanding of inner guilt over something.

“You’re sad.”

You turn to the left where Juyeon sits with curious eyes before the library shelves. Side by side at the communal computers; he has watched you stare at the search page for four minutes without intervention.

“Do you want to go and see the cats?” He asks gently.

You sink down on the table. Hands curl up at the keyboard while the wooden surface catches your chin.

“No, but thank you, Juyeon.” You say tired.

“Is it Eric?” He asks, leaning down.

You nod.

“I don’t want to hurt him, I’m afraid we won’t be friends anymore.” You pause, “I don’t want to hurt anyone else.”

“You should tell him that.” Changmin peaks from behind the computer, opposite you and Juyeon.

“Honesty is always valued.”

“You know, whatever it is..” Juyeon speaks from the right side, “at least having it said will lift the weight off. You have an assignment next week, right?” Juyeon points at the screen.

“Eric would make fun of you for worrying about boys instead of studying.”

You smile weakly.

07 . FINAL CHAPTER

( saturday, evening )

Edges of sharp stone scratches against your old bicycle. Those few streetlights with meters in between emits across the gravel. On the path from your old house, it was quiet like it always is in family neighbourhoods. But as you come closer to Eric’s old house; ruptures in form of music and laughter leak out the open windows.

You had to stay longer in the library working. Time passed like it never does when one’s bored, and suddenly you had missed the first train and waited for the other. It isn’t too far out your old neighbourhood, just a few stations that with each passing minute gets dimmer and dimmer because of lack of lining lamps.

Running the last passage to your front door to take the bike, and now you’re standing at his post. The same sign that hangs on the door, rusted of all year’s weather, intimidates you serenely.

At last, with one foot you force down the supporting metal where all other bikes stand. Close eyes on the handle while the laughter is still muted.

It has never felt so hard knocking on his door.

The blurred window at the roof of the door; you stare at it when finally knocking. Anticipation hugs your knees painfully as you take a step back. Look at all places except the white door. Drag your hands along the clothing fabrics as if it’ll obscure you.

Speakers frees from the door while you feel like running towards the woods.

“Welcome in!”

You don't recognize the man holding this door you’ve walked through since five. His expression contrasts your neutral one. There’s a red cup in his hand, he asks if you want some; you thank him, but reject.

As you come in line with each other through the hallway with mountains of shoes, you look at his back, insecure, before speaking.

“Do you know where Eric is?”

He turns, “Hmm..” Scratching his nape and leaning toward the opening frames of all the different rooms.

“I think he’s in the living room?” The guy points further into the apartment, you thank him.

Despite all open windows and meters of space; the air is horribly suffocating. People sit two and two, talk in five’s, and a path like pattern goes through the crowd. You let it take you, hoping it somehow brings you to Eric.

Your feet, that still have shoes on, cease to motion diagonally towards a large couch group. Between all those mere strange faces you’ve may seen once; a face so deeply dissected and remade sits in between. He’s at the center like the sun itself, and people gravitate towards him.

Somehow you would go back to your corner, sink down quietly. But you’ve been running for too long. Hand behind your back, wrists rope tied while your conscious threats to slaughter from behind, push you forward.

“Eric?” You say above the laughter, and his couch group turns towards you.

You swallow when his expression changes to something calmly unreadable, “I need to talk to you.”

A filter falls like a sheer cover of snow when he closes the door. They’re alone behind the house, blue illumination like an upside down universe highlights you from below. Neither Eric or you had said something, but it wasn’t noticeable until the world ran out of sound too.

Eric’s silhouette leaves your side and sits by the edge of the pool. With his barefoots into the galactic mirror, his face shades and colors like the moon. You too walk to the edge, sit by his side and see his legs make waves throughout the water.

He’s unfamiliarly quiet; similar to when you know something someone else doesn’t.

“I think I like someone, Eric.” You say gently without wasting.

He looks at you, soft and tender, “You do?” He smiles.

You smile too and nod.

His feet make water soar before becoming whole again. Your fingers tear at the concrete lining the pool.

“...and I’m not sure he likes me back…therefore it can’t be you.”

Heavy silence like the Universe itself weighs over them. World’s full of life, yet there’s an empty echo in the marrow arch of your cathedral body.

Eric gazes at the transparent surface of the water, smiling weakly because it’s the only thing right to do.

“Though, I still love you, Eric.” You lean towards his shoulder. Tear his side profile like you beg it is not the last time you see it.

“So much as you can possibly love someone, and a little more.”

He looks up, fringe falling, “It’s okay, I know.”

Voice fragile, so heartbreaking against the smile that could light up the entirety of the solar system. He’s like the pool beneath, a galactic universe tightly compacted into a pond.

His mere existence makes your eyes glisten and words frail, “I’m sorry.” You whisper.

He smiles and takes your wrist, “Why are you saying sorry, princess.”

They both sit there for a moment. The constellations pass a centimeter above the bended celestial before you walk up. Half disappear behind the wall while Eric is left at the pool edge. You can’t bring yourself to leave; having one eye on his back as if it'll fall when you go.

Eric looks back to your wall suddenly, like he knows.

“I’m sorry.” You say it again, nails exhaustingly tearing at the house.

Eric shakes his head, waving you off gently before speaking quietly, “Go get your prince.”

Stones shatter beneath the weight of two tires. All houses are drowned in nightshade glistens of warm lighted windows like the stars above, that is childhood.

Grass divided into squares lined with fences; streamline, down the gravel path until it opens up in a wide circle. You know this place because here’s where everyone always met.

All those gravel paths, identical to the one you just left maze down to a grass circle. The very heart of all these houses, a meter lower than the rest. You pass the path contouring it and all these strokes of green nature hinders you down. You stop with one foot off the pedal and lean your weight while standing up.

Where all distance creates a perfect cross; a boy much familiar to you lies. His own bicycle stranded a meter or two from his still body. Laying on his back with his head tilted on its forearms. Sunwoo’s completely still like midnight around him. It calms you just how water drains from head down after sunshine, but heart tears at its veins.

You found him.

To let go of the bicycle; forcing down the metal to leave it standing. Eventually you walk towards him, slowly as if you’ll scare him away.

About three meters from his feet; Sunwoo suddenly looks away from the star fields and up to you.

“Oh, hi Y/n.” He says like he always does.

You cease to stop, “Hi, Sunwoo.”

He can’t quite place why you’re here. You seem to come up in unexpected moments; take him by heart like a sudden season though he’s been admiring the trees for an eternity. It begins with your hair; how it seemingly floods down on your shoulders. Just like the jewel reflection like glitter under your eyes .

“You’re crying?”

You’re taken back by his question; taking a hand to the cold skin beneath your vision. Liquid dried tight to your complexion.

“It’s a long story,” You stutter; head turns to the ground before your expression becomes decrepit, but poetical.

“I’ll tell you later.”

After silence, you sigh; lending a bit of your worry to Earth. All the heavy mountains, all heavy oceans.

You start, “I have something to tell you.”

Grass stands in between his fingers when they lie flat against the ground. Sunwoo forces himself up while observing your expression. You neither walk closer or further; chin falling in patterns as pupils pierce onto the sight behind him or the grass beneath his feet. Only in mere passages eye contact lasts.

You open your mouth to speak, but realize you have a bad habit of coating everything in a thin layer of sugar as if feeding your words to a child. But there’s a certain bitter aftertaste in being honest.

“I love you, Sunwoo.” The words free from a deep part within. Tears off the inner skin and momentarily aches the body cathedral. He doesn’t say anything. Sitting in place, whether it’s of shock or horror, one can’t tell. To expand the details of his expression, but there’s always two possibilities to his wide eyes and space between lips. Hurriedly you continue.

“I really like you Sunwoo, I’m sorry.” You look down to the left, “I just needed to say it.” You open your arms, not like a hug, rather an impediment.

“So do what you want, Sunwoo.” You breathe in heavily while searching for the world reflected in his window.

“Just break my heart if that’s what you have to, please, just–”

“I love you too.”

“...do–what?” Your arms fall to their sides and the pupil without dimensions expands across the pearl, reaching the far edge of its colorization.

“I love you too.” He stutters more this time.

Every cosmic mass bulging on your shoulders and tearing your back convulses from behind. It like everything eventually does; changes form and frees for the roof without limit. It has compressed your lungs into tiny pulses, you didn’t even notice. Yet the milky way’s worth of celestial bodies frees from you; only eyelids show movement.

You breathe heavily while looking at Sunwoo with parted lips. He looks just as cosmically affected as you.

“But aren’t you together with Jaehyun?” He suddenly says.

You’re quiet for a second before bursting out in laughter.

“No…no.” You take your hands up before your chest and smile “You’re still there?”

Sunwoo’s still crossed brow of confusion. Neither laughing nor speaking.

“I was his fake girlfriend for the parties, but we’re not like that.”

You pause.

“We could never be like that…” You hold your arms behind your back, titling your head when a star aligns with his position.

“Not when you exist.”

He admires you deeply in the same way, one layer below. Knees have come up to his chin and he hugs them slightly while hypnotized following the last season’s breeze across your face.

You’re not sure what is supposed to happen now. But truthfully, you could live adoring the opposite like this for an eternity longer.

Though, Sunwoo has other plans.

The surface of his shoes bend down the grass as he stands. The last meters dying to collapse cease from existence; all before you even lift your head from your shoulder. Just as your eyes widen he’s against you gently. Sheer touch of his fingers across your lower face before he tilts. At last you touch and love-soul bitten sensations fill two hearts.

You look at him again after the kiss; his face so beautiful you believe he could overthrow the world.

a/ n : i kind of broke my own heart by writing reader and juyeon just being friends 😭 it took all my will power

love spectrum spoiler

have flirty/ cute dynamic in the beginning but becomes friends : juyeon, changmin

romantic storylines but do not end up with : eric, hyunjae

end game : sunwoo

tagging : @darcymariebraun-blog @sungbeam @tbzhub @sanaxo-o

237 notes · View notes

m1ckeyb3rry · 6 months ago

Note

i just read your sae fic and it was absolutely amazing, gorgeous, life-changjng! and when i went on to check your masterlist for bllk, i was shocked when you were the one who wrote the nagi x reader x kira fic bc I've been following it for a while and then i immediately tapped the follow button :x but if you can (only when you have the time and energy), can you write rin whose family is a host for exchange student! reader from another country? it could be hs or college, depending on whichever you're comfortable with. thank you <33

── CHERRY TREE

Synopsis: You are one hundred percent convinced that Rin Itoshi hates you — and he does, but not exactly in the way you think.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Rin x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 6.2k

Content Warnings: cheesy and cliched asf, otoya and KARASU <3 make brief appearances, rin is rude ngl but reader is as well, rin does not know what a “crush” is, he’s probably ooc as well atp i should just include that on all of my works jic

A/N: i can’t believe i started bllk because of a rin edit and yet i’ve never written for him…also i’m glad you liked seabird and peregrine anon!! thank you for following 💖 sorry it took me a min to respond to this

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

If you didn’t know that your parents would probably put you in an early grave for wasting their money, you would’ve caught the next flight back home from Japan in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, you were far too afraid of their ire, which meant you were stuck in this hostile environment until the end of the semester — assuming, of course, that you managed to survive for so long.

Over the summer, applying to your university’s special first-semester-abroad program had seemed like a good idea. You were already going to be traveling far from home to stay on campus regardless, so your reasoning was that you might as well experience a different culture while you were at it. Besides, the program claimed to pair participants with a host family that would be good fits for their personalities and needs — based on a survey, which in hindsight you really should’ve lied on — so you would be living in relative comfort, at least compared to the ancient dorms on the main campus that probably had thirty different species of mold growing on their walls.

Or, well, that had been the plan. Maybe it was even a reality for the rest of the people in the program, who had no doubt been placed in normal homes, with normal people, who had normal children and normal lives. For you, though, it could not be further from the truth — because you had had the great misfortune of being chosen to live in the same house as Rin Itoshi for the duration of your stay in Japan.

To put it simply, he hated you. He had started hating you from the moment you stepped foot into his house and put your things in his brother’s old room, and he had not stopped since. If you happened to cross paths with him, he’d scoff at you, and considering the fact that the two of you lived in the same house, this was a frequent occurrence. Whenever you tried speaking to him in Japanese, he’d wrinkle his nose and respond in English, telling you that you were so terrible at the language, you might as well give up now and move back to your country early. Once, his mother had suggested he take you to hang out with his friends, as you were all roughly the same age, and he had rolled his eyes so hard that it was a surprise they didn’t get stuck in the back of his head.

There was no doubt about it: your mere existence was a burden to Rin. You couldn’t explain it in any other way; after all, how could he have decided he disliked you before you had even spoken? So you did your best to be as helpful and kind as possible, keeping the house neat, cooking food whenever the elder Itoshis had to work late, staying silent if he happened to enter the same room as you, and offering nothing but slight smiles if you were forced into an interaction with him.

“You know,” Mrs. Itoshi began one day, as you were eating the dinner she had made for all of you. Rin was on your right, and Mr. Itoshi was across from him, his jovial face such a contrast to his son’s dour look. “Rin’s on the Japanese soccer team.”

“Wow,” you said noncommittally. You hadn’t known that; you had assumed that Rin’s hobbies involved throwing stones at unsuspecting children and tripping old ladies as they crossed the street. Soccer had been the last thing you expected, though it did explain his admittedly splendid physique. “Very impressive.”

“Not really,” Rin said.

“Why don’t you take her to watch your practice over the weekend?” Mrs. Itoshi pressed.

“She’s not interested,” Rin said. Of course, you really weren’t — why would you want to watch Rin and his friends kick around a ball for a few hours? It would be a waste of time, time that you could spend working on homework or clearing your ‘to-be-read’ list. But you also weren’t fond of people speaking for you, especially not him. He was the last person who could claim to know anything about you, so by what right could he say that you weren’t interested?

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind going,” you said, batting your eyelashes at him innocently when he glared at you out of the corner of his eye, his expression one of utter disgust and incredulity.

“There you have it! Be sure to introduce her to your teammates. I’m sure they would love to show her around,” Mrs. Itoshi said. Rin snorted.

“Oh, I’m sure they would,” he said, though when he did, it sounded different than what Mrs. Itoshi had surely meant. But you were obviously the only one who picked up on it, and you didn’t want to make dinner unpleasant, so you could only ponder what he might’ve meant in your head instead of asking him outright, as you really wanted to.

Although it was the weekend, Rin’s practice was early in the morning, before the day could really heat up and make exercising unbearable. That meant it was before even the sun’s rise that you were following after him, your books clutched in your arms as you waited at the bus stop.

“Why’re you bringing all of that?” he said when the awkward silence grew to be too much for either of you to bear.

“I’m planning on getting some homework done while I’m there,” you said.

“Why didn’t you just stay home if you wanted to do homework?” he said as the bus pulled to a stop in front of you and the doors flew open. Due to the early hour, there was almost no one else on the bus, but given your unfamiliarity with the route, you still followed after Rin, sitting across the aisle from him and putting your things on the seat beside you.

“I dunno,” you said. “I guess I wanted to meet your teammates. Since they would just love to show me around.”

“Stay away from them,” he said. “They’re a bunch of NPCs. All of them are probably the worst people you could ask to show you anywhere.”

“NPCs?” you said. “That’s pretty harsh to say about your own peers.”

“It’s not like we’re friends or anything,” he muttered, crossing his arms petulantly. “I’ll call them what I want.”

“Sure, whatever you say,” you said, massaging circles into your forehead to ward off your impending migraine. Rin raised his eyebrows.

“Got a headache?” he said, in that same clinical, detached voice he always used.

“Yeah,” you said. And you’re making it worse. You wanted to add that, but you thought it probably wouldn’t be prudent, so you kept your mouth shut.

“Don’t stay up so late on your phone, then,” he said.

“It’s the only time I can call my friends and family. They’re in a different time zone,” you explained before pausing. Why did you feel the need to justify yourself? It wasn’t like Rin particularly cared either way. He was just giving you that advice because he wanted to boss you around and be rude to you. It was a symptom of dislike, not worry.

You had imagined Rin to be an obsessively punctual person, but to your surprise, it seemed like you both were actually some of the later ones to show up. Perhaps the rest of the team was even more concerned with earliness than him, or maybe you had somehow caused him to be later than he typically was, but either way, by the time you walked onto the field, the others had already gathered, chatting amongst themselves while they waited for their coach to arrive and start the practice.

“There he is! We were beginning to think the world might’ve ended,” a boy with dark, styled hair and a beauty mark beneath his left eye said with a grin. “Nothing less could get you to miss practice, eh, Rin?”

“It still might have,” another boy said. His pale hair was streaked through with green, and he wore an inviting smirk as he pointed at you. “Yo, girl. What kind of blackmail does he have on you? Blink twice if you need help. We’ll get you out of there.”

“Um, he’s not blackmailing me or anything…” you said, glancing at Rin for aid before remembering that he would probably rather jump off of a cliff, backwards and into the jaws of a dozen waiting sharks, than help you out.

“So you’re hanging out with him willingly?” the pale-haired boy said. “Yikes. You can do much better.”

“I kind of have to hang out with him,” you said. “I’m staying with his family for the semester.”

“Oh, you’re the exchange student!” a third boy, this one with icy blue hair and wide, pretty eyes said. “We’ve heard a lot—”

“All of you, be quiet and leave her alone,” Rin said, finally, thankfully speaking up. “Otoya, don’t even look at her, or I’ll make sure you’re benched for the rest of the season.”

The pale-haired boy — Otoya? — held his hands up in the air and whistled innocently, shooting you a wink when Rin turned to address the rest of his team. You raised your eyebrows but suppressed your giggle, not wanting to condemn him to further rebuke from Rin.

“This is Y/N L/N. She’s the exchange student my family is hosting. She wanted to come watch our practice because…actually, I don’t really know why,” Rin said shortly. “But she’s just going to be doing homework on the bench, so if any of you were planning on showing off to impress her, then you can give up on that idea now.”

Otoya noticeably wilted at this, but the others didn’t seem to mind. The first boy, the one with the beauty mark and the strange hairstyle, gave Rin a thumbs up.

“Don’t worry, Rin, we’ll leave the showing off to you. It’s about time you—”

“Shut up!”

They must’ve begun practicing at some point, but you hardly took notice, too busy typing up the outline for an essay you had due in a couple of weeks to care much about what they were doing. Occasionally, someone would shout out a particularly creative insult, and you would have to pause your work to identify the trash talker in order to be able to congratulate them later, but for the most part, you were lost in your own world.

“Hey.” Just the sound of Rin’s cool voice was enough to send shivers of fear down your spine, and you hastily closed your laptop as you looked up at him. “Practice is over.”

“Okay,” you said. “Will you introduce your teammates to me now? I know you told them who I was, but I’d like to at least meet some people my own age.”

“Nope,” he said. “Let’s go.”

“Hold on, I only even came because I wanted to meet them!” you said. “Outside of school, you’re the only one I know. I get that you don’t want me infiltrating your friend group or whatever, but you literally said you don’t like these guys, so why’s it a problem if I become friends with them?”

“They’re so dull and half-baked that your opinion of this country will actually fall if you interact with them further,” he said. “This is just my national pride talking. Come on.”

You stomped after him. What was his problem? He didn’t want to be nice to you, but he also didn’t want anyone else to, either. Was he that determined to make you miserable? Why couldn’t you have been placed in a family with children who weren’t so weird and annoying? Which question had you answered incorrectly on the survey that had resulted in your match-up with the Itoshis? You wished you could retake that stupid quiz and end up somewhere else. You wished that Rin had been the one sent to Spain instead of his older brother, who was certainly more well-adjusted. You wished that you hadn’t chosen to study abroad at all, that you had instead stayed at home with your friends and had a typical first semester like everyone else.

After that day, you stopped even pretending to be polite to Rin. Both of you were cold, hissing insults whenever you passed in the hallways of the home, leaving the room if the other happened to enter, and generally doing what you could to make each other’s lives difficult. It was only in front of Rin’s parents that you maintained some semblance of civility; after all, making Mr. and Mrs. Itoshi choose sides in your silent war would be unethical and wrong.

“I really don’t get it,” you said to your best friend one night, the covers pulled up over your head, your phone screen dimmed so that you were not blinded by its light. “He’s such a jerk, and for what?”

“Boys suck,” she said, hunched over a calculus problem set. The time difference meant that sun streamed in through her window as she wrote, illuminating the shining graphite of her neatly penciled answers. “Did his teammates mention anything suspicious the one time you met them? They’d probably know better than you or I why he’s acting the way he is. Maybe this is just how he is with everyone — if that’s the case, then you can be reassured that it’s not something you’re doing wrong.”

“Not really,” you said. “He forbade all of them from talking to me. Which, by the way, is a real tragedy, because some of them were super cute.”

“Really?” she said.

“Want descriptions?” you said.

“As much as I would like to say yes, I need to focus on this problem set, and anyways, it’ll just make me jealous, so no,” she said.

“Jealous? Let’s trade places, because at the moment, I’m jealous of you. Maybe all of the guys at your school are ugly, but at least you don’t have to deal with Rin!” you said.

“Is Rin attractive?” she said.

“No — actually, yeah, I can see why a person would think he is,” you said. Personal biases aside, Rin really was very handsome, and that combined with his aloof arrogance afforded him the aura of a YA novel’s male lead. There was no doubt in your mind that he was popular with girls; however, you doubted he himself was aware of this fact. “He’s such a dick that it cancels out, though.”

“Personality is important,” your best friend said. “Oh, fuck!”

“What?” you said.

“I’ve been forgetting to add the integration constant to my answers. Easy fix, no worries. You can keep talking,” she said.

“Thanks,” you said. “There isn’t really much else to say.”

“Well, if you couldn’t get anything out of his teammates, why don’t you try talking to him?” she suggested. “Ask him to his face why he doesn’t like you.”

“Isn’t that kind of uncomfortable?” you said.

“Not like things can get much worse than they already are,” she said.

“True,” you said. “But the thought of confronting him is actually sickening. I’ll pass. This is character building, isn’t it? I’m going to come back home as an entirely new woman. You won’t recognize my mental strength and fortitude.”

“Sure, looking forward to it. I miss you,” she said.

“Miss you more, but it’s pretty late here, so I’m going to have to hang up,” you said, yawning.

“Goodnight, Y/N, and sleep tight. Don’t let Rin Itoshi bite!” she said.

“Oh my god. Go do your homework,” you said, hanging up before she could respond and almost immediately passing out as the moon rose higher and higher in the sky.

Things between you and Rin continued on in that tense manner for the next few weeks, until you became convinced that your heart might give out from the stress. You couldn’t continue to live in this way. You were supposed to be enjoying your time abroad, not counting down the days until you could finally go home.

Rin was watching a horror movie on the computer when you barged into his room. A woman screamed in sync with your entrance, and you jumped at the jarring sound. Rin did not react, clicking on the mouse to pause the film and then turning in his chair to face you.

“What?” he said.

“What? What? What do you think?” you said.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I had the faintest clue why you were storming into my room in the middle of the night,” he said coolly, crossing his arms. “The movie was finally getting exciting, too. So, what do you want? Hurry up and say it.”

Your eye twitched. “I want to know what your problem is.”

“Huh?” he said.

“Why do you hate me? What have I ever done to you that’s made you so determined to ruin my life? I could even understand if you didn’t want to hang out with me, but you brought me to your practice and then refused to let me talk to just about anyone! What’s the big idea? I just want to enjoy my semester!” you said.

“Oh,” he said. “That’s easy. You’re ruining my soccer career.”

“I’m ruining your soccer career,” you repeated dubiously.

“Yes,” he said.

“Care to elaborate on how I am accomplishing that, exactly?” you said, your hands on your hips. “I went to one practice, and I didn’t even speak the entire time. If your career can be ruined so easily, then it isn’t much of a career in the first place.”

He huffed in aggravation. “I keep thinking about you. It’s messing with my head. I need to focus on soccer and getting better, but for some reason, I can’t stop my thoughts from wandering to places they shouldn’t. It’s worse because I can’t escape you. If I could have just one day to clear my mind, I could forget about you and get back to considering more important things, but you’re always there, worming your way back in.”

Now it was your turn to be confused. “What?”

“I don’t get it, either. You’re not that special, so why can I quit it? Even my teammates have begun to notice. The other day, Isagi told me to go home early because I was ‘bringing nothing to the team.’ Isagi said that! Yoichi Isagi said that I was useless!” he said.

“That would be a lot more impactful if I knew who that was,” you muttered.

“You’re only here for a few more months, right?” he said. “After that, I can get back to my earlier performance and things will return to usual. Just leave me alone until then.”

Confronting Rin had the opposite effect that it should have. Instead of making things better, they actually became worse. What did he mean by saying that you were ruining his soccer career because he couldn’t stop thinking about you? What a stupid excuse! You weren’t that tiresome, so for him to claim that you were taking over his mind because of that was an offense.

“Y/N, Rin, will you be alright by yourselves for the week?” Mrs. Itoshi said when, once again, you all were gathered to eat dinner. The Itoshi parents had thankfully not yet noticed the enmity between you and their son, so family meals were a regular occurrence — meals in which you and Rin were made to sit by one another and act kindly, lest you make things awkward for Mr. and Mrs. Itoshi, too.

“It’ll be fine,” Rin said, answering for the both of you, the downturn of his mouth daring you to argue. “You guys should have fun in Spain.”

Apparently, Sae had invited his family to visit him in Madrid for the week that he had off from training, but unfortunately for the both of you, Rin was unable to go due to his practice schedule. It was unfortunate for Rin because it meant he couldn’t see his older brother, who he had the world’s most complicated relationship with, and it was unfortunate for you because it meant you couldn’t get a break from Rin’s dramatics.

The week started off normally enough, which meant that you and Rin did not speak, leading your lives with as much separation as was possible. It was actually easier than you were expecting, mainly because Mrs. Itoshi had left you both enough food to last the week, so you could eat when you wanted to instead of having to sit with one another. Gone were the days of turbulent coexistence at meals; now, you could finally enjoy eating without worrying about the boy beside you! You almost wished his parents would never come back, just because of that rare peace.

The fourth night was when it all went wrong. You were video calling your best friend as a storm raged outside, ranting to her about your professors and the heaps of homework you received every day, when the lights flickered.

“Is something wrong with your wifi?” she said. “You’re breaking up.

“It’s raining,” you said. “Pretty hard. The power’s kinda spotty, but I’m hoping it holds—”

The universe must’ve heard your words and decided to play a joke on you, because in that moment, the lights turned off and your call disconnected with a sad beeping sound, alerting you that your poor connection was what did you in. Pouting, you set your phone aside and stared up at the ceiling of the room, deciding you might as well try to fall asleep, given the late hour. Even if the power was out, you wouldn’t be able to tell with your eyes shut, so it was really the best option.

There was a scratching sound on your window, causing you to jolt into a sitting position once more. Rin had watched a horror movie just like this the other day. You remembered it clearly because you had turned on a rom-com once it had finished, and he had called it lukewarm, which made you so mad that you had turned the TV off and gone to take a shower instead.

What had been the plot, again? Oh, right. The power had gone out, and the victim thought that it had been because of a storm, but it had actually been a serial killer taking advantage of the weather to mess with her house’s fuse box. He had done it so that the cameras didn’t catch him as he climbed into her house through her unlocked window and stabbed her in her sleep. The resolution was that her neighbors saw him and called the police right before he killed them, too — yeah, it was a pretty gory film. Lots of blood and knife wounds. You weren’t sure what enjoyment Rin derived from watching it, but you figured it was another one of his irrational attributes that defied explanation.

Another scratching sound. Had you locked the window? What if the power outage wasn’t due to the storm at all? What if Rin had accidentally manifested the same ending for you as that stupid movie? And you were home alone, too, the scenario was just so similar…

This time, the scratching sound was more like an eerie drag of fingernails against the glass, and you couldn’t help yourself. Squealing, you turned the flashlight of your phone on to guide your way as you sprinted out of your room, racing towards the only other inhabited place in the entire lonely house.

“Rin!” you shrieked, convinced that the shadows were actually ghosts come to haunt you and strangle you and bury you alive. “Rin, wake up! We’re both going to die!”

The door to his bedroom banged open, and you pointed your phone at him, the harsh white glow sharpening the angles of his features, the awkward hang of his pajamas off his body, the way his normally neat hair stuck up in every direction.

“What are you talking about?” he groaned, using his hand to shield his vision from the blinding radiance of your flashlight.

“Do you remember that movie you were watching the other day? The scary one, with the fuse box?” you said.

“Yeah?” he said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and yawning. “Point your flashlight at the ground, stupid, or you’ll blind me.”

You did as he directed, belatedly remembering that the two of you very much did not like each other. But beggars could not be choosers, and it remained that at the moment, Rin was your best chance at survival, so you had to stick close to him.

“It’s happening,” you whispered. “It’s literally happening to us right now, as we speak. The serial killer already cut our power, and now he’s trying to break in through my bedroom window, and then — and then he’s going to kill us!”

“I cannot believe you woke me up for this,” he said.

“I’m serious!” you said.

“Seriously dumb,” he said. “Why would somebody try to kill us?”

“Don’t you have any rivals that hate you? Maybe they’re taking advantage of the storm to do you in while they have the chance!” you said, creeping closer to him.

“I play soccer. I’m not in a gang,” he said dryly. “No one’s going to come murder me for being better than them, trust me. Or else I’d already be dead.”

“Go see for yourself, then!” you said. “Wait. But I’ll go with you. People who split up in horror movies always die. There’s real merit to the ‘safety-in-numbers’ theory.”

“How many horror movies have you watched, to make you such an expert on them?” he said.

“You always have them playing, so of course I’ve learnt by osmosis!” you said, inching along behind him as he trudged towards your room. He gave no response bar a click of his tongue as he yanked open the door you had slammed shut in your haste, striding in authoritatively, grabbing your phone and lighting his own way with it instead of relying on your shaky hands.

He pulled the curtains open with a flourish, and you cringed, using his broad back to hide yourself, expecting to see some grotesque face and keeping your eyes screwed shut so you didn’t have to be met with the visage that would spell your death.

“Hey. Y/N. Open your eyes, dumbass. You made me get up because of a damn tree,” Rin said, shaking you by the shoulder.

“A what?” you said, opening your eyes against your will and then blinking properly when you saw there was nothing there but the boughs of the cherry tree planted in front of Sae’s room. The frenzied wind caused the branches to rub against the window, and this, you realized, was the source of the sound you had been so afraid of. “Oh. A tree.”

“I’m going back to bed,” he informed you. “Wake me up again and you really will be dead, but it’ll be at my hands, not some imaginary serial killer’s.”

You tried. You really tried to stay asleep — you were an independent woman, weren’t you? You had gotten full marks on all of your midterms. You had flown to a different country and learned to live there without much trouble. You had shared a house with Rin Itoshi for the past couple of months, and he was more like a creature out of a nightmare than anything else ever could be. Sleeping alone when the power was out was a piece of cake. You could do it.

It was not, in fact, a piece of cake, and you could not, in fact, do it. Tip-toeing to Rin’s room, you knocked as lightly as you could, half-hoping that he did not hear. You doubted he had made his earlier threat lightly, after all, and there was a real chance that this action would be your last.

“What now?” Rin said, answering the door a few seconds later. You crossed your arms and stared at the floor obstinately, your pride not allowing you to say anything. He waited for a moment, and then he pinched your upper arm. “Are you sleepwalking? Hello? Wake up if you are, so that I can get to bed myself. I have practice tomorrow, and I need to be well-rested!”

“I’m not sleepwalking!” you said. “I can’t.”

“You can’t sleepwalk? Okay,” he said. “I didn’t really care either way, so there was no need for you to tell me.”

“I can’t sleep at all!” you said. “It’s because of those dumb movies you always watch and those creepy games you play. I keep thinking that something’s going to happen, even though I know that those things aren’t real.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, like he was trying to discern whether you were telling the truth, and then he ran a hand through his hair.

“You have problems,” he said. “They aren’t real, but whatever. Come in.”

“Uh, what?” you said.

“I’ll take the floor, and you can sleep in my bed,” he said, rolling his eyes like you were the ridiculous one for being taken aback by the offer. “That way you can be less nervous.”

It was the kindest thing he had ever done for you, and you almost called him out for it, but then there was another crack of lightning, so you opted not to argue, darting into the room after him and diving into his bed without a second thought.

“Hand me a pillow,” he said, settling on the ground with a blanket he pulled down from the top shelf of his closet. You were about to throw it at him before wavering, considering what he was truly doing for you. Rin Itoshi, who was so careful with his body, who was a pro athlete that required an exact amount of sleep and the perfect balance of nutrients, had woken up in the middle of the night twice and was now offering to sleep on the floor, all because you were afraid of a power outage.

If only there was electricity! You needed to call your best friend and get her opinion on this. You had avoided telling her the results of your confrontation with him, believing that she would just make fun of you, but for some reason, you thought she might be interested in this development. You thought that she might be the only one who would understand it, because obviously, neither you nor Rin did.

“Um, you can have the bed, if you’d like,” you said, pushing the blankets away reluctantly, your neck protesting at the mere prospect of spending the night on the hardwood. “It’ll be bad for your back if you’re on the floor.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he said. “At least, it won’t be, if you give me that pillow.”

You caved, giving him the pillow and rolling to the opposite side of his bed, which was even larger than the one you were used to. He grunted out a thank you, and then both of you were silent, but it was obvious that neither of you were asleep.

“Rin.”

“Yes?”

“We could share. Your bed is pretty big, so if we put pillows between us, it won’t be weird. Anyways, it’s only until the power comes back, and then I’ll go to my room, so it won’t even be for that long,” you said. The suggestion was met with sputtering from the ground.

“You — me — what — share? No way! No way, terrible idea, why would you suggest that?” he said.

“I just feel bad that you have to be on the floor, that’s all,” you said. “Especially because it’s your room and you’re doing me a favor.”

He didn’t say anything for so long that you were certain he must’ve fallen asleep. “I don’t mind sleeping on the floor for you.”

“Really? I thought you hated me, though,” you said. The bed creaked from an unexpected weight dropping on it, and when you shifted, you saw that he had settled beside you, fluffing up a pillow to serve as a barrier, his face a light pink as he lay on his side to face you. You did the same, peering up at him over the pillow and swallowing when he did not avoid your gaze.

“I do,” he said. “A lot. But I also don’t.”

You furrowed your brow. “I don’t get it.”

“I’ve never been distracted by anyone or anything before,” he said. “That’s why I hate you. I hate things I don’t understand, and I don’t understand why you’re constantly on my mind.”

“Am I that annoying?” you said.

“Yes,” he said flatly. “You’re annoying every time you smile or laugh or say something — say anything, and you’re especially annoying when you act friendly towards my shitty teammates, especially that ninja bastard Otoya. You’re annoying whenever you talk to me, and you’re annoying when you do your homework instead of watching me at the practice you asked to go to. Your lukewarm movies are annoying, and so is your hatred of anything horror-related. It’s annoying that you’re nice to my parents, and it’s even more annoying that you’re better at coming up with insults than I am. You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”

You didn’t need your best friend to translate this for you. Despite what Rin liked to say, you weren’t that stupid — you had been selected to study abroad out of hundreds of applicants, after all, and for the first time, you were so grateful for that fact. Because the thought of somebody else being here, in this bed, hearing these things from rude, haughty Rin Itoshi, was unbearable.

“Do you have a crush on me?” you said. He immediately stiffened, his eyebrows drawing together, low and heavy over his half-lidded eyes.

“No,” he said.

“Sure,” you said. “That’s good, because I’m going to leave soon. It would be problematic if either of us liked one another.”

“Exactly,” he said.

“You’re annoying, too, just to be clear,” you said. “The most annoying guy I’ve ever met in my life. Super annoying.”

“Uh-huh,” he said.

“I’m telling the truth. Once I go back home, I’ll be incredibly bored. No one back there could ever hope to irritate me even half as much as you do,” you said.

“Good,” he said, and at that you smiled into the softness of his sheets, hiding the expression from him. “They’re not allowed to. You’re the only one who makes me feel like this, so the reverse should also be true.”

“I won’t be able to come here again for a while,” you said after a bit. “Likely years. I’ll be busy with school and work and my friends and family, so it’ll probably be goodbye forever when I go.”

Rin’s voice was sleepy when he spoke, reminding you of the late hour and how early he had to wake up daily.

“Then I can finally focus on soccer again,” he mumbled. “That’s a relief.”

You reached across the pillow to pat him on the cheek. “Yes, you can.”

“After I retire, I’ll come and find you,” he said.

“That long?” you said. “What if I forget about you by then? Because I might.”

“Don’t,” he commanded. “Wait for me. Let me win the next World Cup, and then…and then…”

His words trailed off into a soft exhale as he finally succumbed to sleep. You allowed your hand, which still lay against his face, to trace his jawline before retracting it and holding it close to your heart.

He was definitely still a jerk, but maybe you did not hate him quite as much as you had thought You did. Actually, maybe he wasn’t that bad at all, and maybe you could not imagine what an existence without him, which you had craved so desperately only days earlier, might be like.

You weren’t sure what would happen if that day he spoke of came, if he did fly across the world to find you after the next World Cup. Would he still be himself, or would he be some gentler version? And what of you? Would Rin Itoshi still be someone you paid any mind to, or, by then, would he just be a not-so-fond memory? The strange boy who may or may not have had a crush on you, who was obsessed with soccer and horror movies, who argued with you constantly and made you more infuriated than you had ever been…well, if you thought about it, then there really was no chance of you forgetting him at all. Not so quickly.

So you sighed, turned away from him and let your own eyes shut as well. The house was dark and still, the familiar hum of the refrigerator silenced, the crushing of the ice-maker temporarily halted. Only Rin’s steady inhales and exhales cut through the blackness, lulling you to sleep despite the atmosphere you had previously found sinister.

“I guess I have no choice, huh?” you said as you, too, drifted off. “Brainless, rude, pesky Rin Itoshi. Fine, then. If that’s how you want it…I’ll wait. Just until the next World Cup, I’ll wait for you.”

#rin x reader #rin x y/n #rin x you #itoshi rin #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #reader insert #canon au #m1ckeyb3rry milestone #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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stariiesz · 5 months ago

Text

୨⎯𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝙰𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 ⎯୧

Chapter 3

Authors note: Satoru is actually becoming likeable! Also this isn’t proof read again hehe

Tw: Alcohol consumption

August 20th 2017

After a long summer of rest, fun, and heartbreak, it was finally time for the back-to-school season. And for you, it was time to start your first semester at Kyoto College. You were excited of course, it was a fresh start and a chance to meet new people. But somewhere in the back of your mind, you were still a little hurt about what happened at the festival but you were trying to get over it. That wouldn’t stop the thoughts about how Satoru was supposed to also be going to Kyoto College but had changed his mind a few months beforehand.

Now you think it’s better he doesn’t come. Running into him would most likely go a lot like it did at the festival. There was no universe in which he’d want to see you and potentially be friends. Those were all hopes of the past and you’ve learned to accept it. You would be lying if you didn’t say you weren’t a little mad at Satoru. I mean, after all, he hated you for no reason. He was rude and he made it clear he wanted nothing to do to you. You wish you had gotten the hint earlier in high school so you didn’t look like such a hopeless romantic. Now that you think about it, maybe Alina wasn’t the only one with an obvious crush on Satoru.

More importantly, you were moving out of the only home you’ve ever known for the year. You were dorming on campus with what you hoped would be a good roommate. You packed everything you needed for the time being. You took one last look at your room before heading out. You lived an hour and thirty minutes away from Kyoto University, so you wouldn’t be going home daily. More like once a week or two. It wasn’t too bad a schedule, but for you who aren’t used to being away from home for so long, it would be a little difficult.

Your parents helped you load up the car and you drove to the campus. After finally arriving on campus you had your parents help you load stuff in your dorm. The dorm was average-sized. Your roommate wasn’t coming until tomorrow so it gave you some time to adjust and have things the way you wanted them. You said goodbyes to your family and there you were. Sitting in your empty dorm room with boxes of stuff packed around you. You sighed and laid down on your bed staring straight up at the ceiling. Classes started tomorrow and you were taking the writing class you wanted to take. That was something to look forward to, right?

You explored the campus and got a feel of where you would be dedicating the next four years of your education. You got some ramen at a local ramen shop on campus and went back to your dorm where you would eat in silence. Your roommate decided to come a little earlier and came later that evening. So far you liked her.

Her name was Ayaka. She was 18 and was really interested in majoring in arts. She seemed like someone you could make friends with so that was good. She was super optimistic and she wore bright clothes and had bright room decor. She was the solar opposite of you but it was nice to have the company. You two talked for a while and you realized you weirdly had a lot in common. You botched like reading books, especially manga, you both strive to do good in school, and you both didn’t have any friends. You were just glad to have a good roommate and a nice person to talk to. So far college life was good, even though you hadn’t actually started classes.

So there you were the next day standing in front of your mirror wearing an outfit that wasn’t you at all. You just wanted to make a good impression on your first day, but you figured it would be better if you dressed like yourself. Wearing a mini skirt and a crop top was unlike you, so you changed to the usual hoodie and some sweats. Much better and much more comfortable.

“I like your outfit, Y/N,” Ayaka said from her top bunk as she dangled her legs and played with one of many charm bracelets. You gave her a smile and adjusted your ponytail. “Thanks.” You said putting the last notebook into your bag. Even though you hadn’t even known each other for 24 hours, you were becoming friends. You had a fresh start indeed.

You two went your separate ways as you had classes on opposite sides of the campus. You walked to your first class which was mathematics, a subject you didn’t like but you did decent in it. The class wasn’t too bad. You got to know your professor and some other nearby seatmates. After that, you had social science. You actually made good friends with a friend group consisting of three people. They were all super nice and again you had a bunch of shared interests. This college thing wasn’t so bad after all.

After three classes, you had a break for lunch where you sat with your new-found friends, including Ayaka. You talked about the professors you liked the ones you didn’t and the classes you wanted to take and the ones you didn’t. It was going great until Ayaka mentioned something that piqued your interest immediately.

“Yeah so, in my art class this morning there was this really pretty boy. He seemed popular already too! He had white hair and the prettiest shade of blue eyes you’ve ever seen. He was soo cool. He had these piercings and-” Ayakas voice faded into the background. White hair blue eyes, white hair blue eyes. Surly it couldn’t be him. You heard yourself that he was going to the University of Tokyo with Alina so why would he be here? What could have changed? Then again, maybe it’s not him. His hair could have been a super light blonde instead of white right? But those eyes, you couldn’t mistake those eyes.

Your mind was running wild with thoughts about the mystery man who was possibly Satoru. It was only confirmed when:

“Yeah he was so pretty, I think his name started with an S or something. Sawyer? No that’s stupid. Sa...Ugh, I can’t remember.” She was cut off by you mid-sentence.

“Satoru. His name was Satoru, right?” You asked. You had to be sure it was him. And even if it was, why was he here, why did he change schools last second? You had so many questions, but on top of all of that was the slight bit of hope that maybe things could be different this time.

“Yeah, yeah! That was his name, Satoru. Do you know him or something?” Ayaka said as she took another bite of her Mac and Cheese. Your stomach felt like it was making knots. So it really was him. Satoru Gojo was at your school after all, but why, and did that mean Alina was there?

“Yeah actually, we used to go to the same high school, long story.” You said snapping out of your daydreaming. Ayaka looked surprised at your comment.

“Really? I figured he was a model or something. You must have been lucky to have him at your school.” She said. The rest of your friend's conversation faded into the back as you pondered. Ok so it was confirmed to be him, but now what? There was a likely chance of running into him, but what would you do if you did? Ignore him, smile at him, hell maybe even try to talk to him? But would he even be interested in striking up a conversation with you? Probably not. It’s probably best for you to ignore him like he's done to you right?

After the lunch break ended you headed to class. This one you were pretty excited about because it was the writing class. You got there a bit early so you could get to know the professor. You may have seemed like a teacher's pet to others but you were excited for this professor's class. You took a seat in the middle row of seats and pulled out your supplies. As class officially started students started to flood in, you were looking to see if a certain white head of hair had entered but you hadn’t seen anything yet. Thank god. You weren’t sure if it would be a good or bad thing if he were to come into this class. But if he were to come, you’d try your best to avoid him.

The class filled up rather quickly and there was one seat left which was right by you. As you were waiting for the class to start, you had your head down lost in the fantasy of the book you were reading, you only looked up when you felt the presence of someone sitting next to you. You only looked up when they had dropped their pen and you grabbed it for them. That's when you locked eyes with those eyes. Those beautiful ocean eyes. His eyes. No other than Satoru Gojo sat beside you. You were shocked it really was him. He mumbled a quiet thanks before taking his pen back and looking up at the board. You closed your book and paid attention to the board, not that you were really paying attention though. You kept getting the occasional glance at Satoru and he did the same even going as far as to smile at you. It was like the first day of high school all over again.

Things felt different like he was being maybe even nice to you. Did you change that much over the summer that he couldn’t recognize you or something? The only thing you really changed about your appearance was getting bangs over the summer but unless Satoru’s blind, he would still know it’s you. Unless he was just being genuinely nice for some odd reason. You were so lost in your thoughts that you basically missed half the first lecture, but it didn’t really matter to you now.

After class, you were both packing up when your professor called you up.

“Since you two are the last ones here, can you do me a favor and clean the board and sweep the floors? There’s a board meeting in here next and I haven’t had the time to do it, I have to grab the snacks for everyone.” Your professor asked in a hurry. Normally it would have been an immediate yes, but again it wasn’t just you, it was Satoru too. But you couldn’t turn down your clearly stressed professor just because of a boy so you agreed and so did Satoru.

“Thank you both, I owe ya!” He said walking out of the class and closing the door behind him. An awkward silence fell over the room as you and Satoru stood there for a second before you took the broom and began to sweep. You didn’t care at this point. You just wanted this awkward interaction to be over with. Satoru took an eraser and ran it over the chalk writing on the board. There had been an awkward silence for a few minutes before Satoru finally broke it.

Satoru cleared his throat “So, how did you like his class?” He asked, eyes still preen on removing the chalk writing on the board.

You were silent for a second, still not completely sure he was talking to you. “Uh, I liked it, it was interesting.” You replied focusing on sweeping like it was the most important thing ever.

“Yeah.” He said. He stopped erasing and turned to look at you. You looked up at him and you two made eye contact for what felt like forever. His eyes focused on yours and the same with yours. You cleared your throat before looking back down and sweeping, but Satoru was still looking at you, you could feel it.

“Y/N, I want you to know I’m sorry for being such a douchebag in high school, you didn’t deserve that.” He said rebreaking the silence. Your mouth almost dropped to the floor. Satoru was apologizing to you? Now? Why was he doing it now? Was he dying and he wanted to make right before he passed or something? You stopped your brain from jumping to crazy and stupid conclusions like that and thought of a way to respond to all this.

“It’s.. ok, I guess.” That was all you said as you continued to sweep up the floor. You couldn't stop yourself from asking the next question though. “Why now are you apologizing?” You asked finally looking up from the floor again. He was looking down at you.

“Because we're in college now, there's no need to hold stupid grudges from high school, so let’s have a fresh start, yeah?” He said with a smile. The first ever genuine smile he’s given you since that day in freshman year. You were very surprised, but what he said made sense. Even though it had only been a month since you last saw him, he seemed to grow over such a short period of time. But there was another question eating at you. Where was Alina, and why did he not go to the University of Tokyo with her?

Since Satoru was being honest with you, you did the same.

“So, what happened to your girlfriend?” You asked as you set the broom down, finally being done with your small side quest. A flash of confusion crossed Satoru’s face for a moment as if he was totally unaware of having this so-called ‘girlfriend’.

“Who?” He asked as he finished wiping up the last bit of chalk on the board. Now it was your turn to be the confused one. Just a month ago, Alina had made it very clear that she was with Satoru now. It was confirmed by your own eyes when you saw them kiss in the parking lot too. So why is he now acting like he isn’t dating her? The thought that they may have broken up popped up in your mind as well.

“You know, Alina. She told me you two were together back at the festival, and I saw you guys kissing in the parking lot.” You told him as you sat and spun in the professor's chair right in front of him. Satoru giggled a bit.

“Me and Alina? No, I bet she was just pranking you, we’re not dating. And that kiss was just her trying to make some boy jealous, so I went along.” Satoru said clearing up the misunderstanding.

Maybe the kiss made sense now but you remember very vividly Alina telling you that the two of them were together. It made you a little happy to know that she tried to make you jealous but lied the whole time. And it was clear by Satoru’s tone that he saw her more as a close friend than a girlfriend. But another part of you felt a little bad for Alina. Crazy, right? But the poor girl was so desperate to keep other girls away from him that she would lie and ruin other girl’s reputations one of those being yours. Wait, maybe you don’t feel so bad after all. So they weren’t together, that was kind of a relief. You seemed to note that Satoru probably didn’t want to talk about your little confession, so you didn’t bring it up.

You two were interrupted by the professor coming back in with a tray of snacks and napkins in his hand.

“Thank you, you two. I will pay you back somehow. You can go now, I gotta set up.” He said ushering you out of his classroom. This was the last class of the day so you had nothing but time. You and Satoru awkwardly stood outside the door of the class before he spoke.

“Uh wanna head to the dorms now?” He asked rubbing his undercut. You nodded and you both headed in that direction. The dorms weren’t on the same floor due to the gender-separated dorm system, but they were in the same building. The walk there was silent, it wasn’t as awkward as it would have been before but it was quiet. You finally decide to ask him another question as you enter the building.

“So why’d you not go to the University of Tokyo with Alina?” You said as you both stood at the beginning of the stairwell which would lead to different floors. He took a long pause before speaking.

“It’s gonna seem stupid but, it’s cause my father used to go here and… I don’t know I guess I wanted to carry on his legacy and make him proud.”

Right. You had heard that Satoru’s dad had sadly passed when he was still young and it affected him greatly. He didn’t like talking about it either. So it had to mean something for him to tell you about it.

“Yeah, I thought I wanted to go to the University of Tokyo because a bunch of my friends were going there like Alina and the rest, but, I thought about it and I wanted to come here again. Alina thinks she might transfer here next year, but I don’t think she will.

That made sense now. Satoru always wanted to come here for his dad but was temporarily persuaded by his friends to join them at the University of Tokyo. You were kind of glad that he came to this school. This felt like it could be the beginning of a friendship between the two of you, or something like that.

“Oh, that’s nice I guess.” You said holding on to the straps of your bags. “Well, I’m that way.” You said pointing to your dorm level.

“And I’m that way.” He said pointing to the level of his dorm. “I guess we'll see each other another time, bye Y/N.” He said heading up to his dorm. Maybe Satoru wasn’t so bad after all. He was just misunderstood by you, and Alina didn’t help with that image. He was pretty chill, you see why people wanted to be friends with him so bad.

August 21st 2017

You were woken up bright and early by a text message on your phone. It was six am and you were staring into the bright light of your phone. What stared back at you was a notification saying that Satoru had started following you on Instagram. Your eyes widened for a brief moment as you clicked on his profile skimming through the photos. He had a very active social life, there was no doubt about that.

He had a lot of photos of himself with friends, and family, and traveling to different places. He also had a lot of photos with Alina, who was tagged in each one. You clicked on her user and checked out her page. Half of her pictures were ones with Satoru. You blocked her before hitting the ‘follow’ button on Satoru’s profile. You put your phone down and went right back to sleep.

Later that morning you woke up and started getting ready when your phone dinged again. This time it was a DM from Satoru on Instagram. You opened it and read what he had said. “I was just looking through your profile and I didn’t know you liked manga. I have a big collection myself.” He said. You smiled at that because, under his popular boy image, he was just as much as much as a nerd as you.

“Yeah, I like reading One Piece, what about you?” You texted back as you resumed getting ready.

“Same!” He said. This brought another smile to your face.

After finally getting ready, you started walking onto campus with your friends but their conversations faded to the back as you thought about things with Satoru. Things were going great so far, and it indeed seemed like the beginning of a friendship.

“Yeah, there’s a party there tonight, wanna go? Y/N?” Ayaka tapped your shoulder and you snapped out of it. “What are you pondering about?” Ayaka asked.

“Nothing, what were you asking me?” You said brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

“I was asking if you want to go to a party with me tonight! It’s for the freshman and like everyone is going. Ayaka said nudging your shoulder. You had other academic things to focus on that night so you declined.

“Nah that's ok, you guys have fun though.” You said as you pulled out your phone and checked for any DM’s. Nothing new from Satoru. You wonder if he’s going to the party, but then remember it’s Satoru, of course, he would be there with girls swarming all around him.

After classes that day, you went to a coffee shop on campus and did a little reading there. You were at the climax of the book when you felt a tap on your shoulder. You took out your headphones and turned around to see Satoru with some books in his hands.

“Can I sit here?” Here said with a few strands of his snow colored hair in his face. You nodded and he sat down. You took out your headphones and closed your book.

“So are you going to that freshman party thing tonight?” Satoru asked taking a sip of his expresso.

“No, it doesn’t really interest me.” You said playing with the rim of your novel. “Are you going?” You asked as you stared at him. You were tempted to move those strands of hair out of his face as you paid attention to him.

“Yeah, I figured it would be a chance to get, hang out with my friends, and meet new people,” Satoru said. “You should come though, you never came to one of the high school ones so the least you can do is come to college ones.”

You sighed. He was right about that, but did you actually want to go to a party tonight? No, that was the last thing you wanted to do. But he and your new friend group were all going too. Sure you didn’t really like parties but, it was college, it was time to step out of your comfort zone for a bit.

You hesitated. ‘I’ll… think about it.” Satoru smiled at your words.

“Great, so I’ll take that as a yes!” Satoru said taking another sip of his drink. He gave you a lemon muffin which he had bought for you at the front of the coffee shop. Lemon was your favorite flavor, so it was cute how he got you a lemon muffin most likely not even knowing.

After you and Satoru left the cafe you went your separate ways and you dashed up your dorms staircase. You went to your dorm and asked Ayaka for help on what to wear, how to do your makeup, hair all of that. She laughed a bit

“Y/N, It’s not a dinner date, it’s a college party, you don’t have to dress up so much. Just wear a tight short dress, leave your hair down, and a little makeup.” She said laughing at your frantic state of panic.

“Why did you change your mind? I thought you didn’t want to come.” Ayaka said as she put her hair in a bun and ate her instant ramen from the cup. You sighed.

“Well I didn’t but now someone I like is going and he wanted me to come so, I’m coming.” You said looking through your wardrobe for anything somewhat cute. Unfortunately, you didn’t own any tight dresses, so the best outfit you could put together was a short top and a skirt. Ayaka did a light amount of makeup for you and did your hair as well. You looked good, and it didn’t feel like you were being a fake either.

You and Ayaka walked to the party which wasn’t too long a walk. You met up with a few other friends too. Now you were standing in front of the door, the sound of loud music playing in the room.

“Are you guys ready for our first college party?” Ayaka said excitedly as she opened the door and you all entered.

It was loud and smelled of booze, there were a lot of people and you kept bumping into people. It was pretty overwhelming. The whole time you were looking for Satoru as your friends went off to grab some drinks. You had never been drunk before and you didn’t want to start doing stuff like that now. Instead, you took a seat in the kitchen where it was more quiet and people would occasionally come in and out for the alcohol.

You sat at the kitchen table suddenly regretting coming to this god-awful place. You’d much rather be cozy at your dorm reading a book or watching a movie, but here you were trying to step out of your comfort zone and do something new for a change. You decided you should probably just head back to the dorms and let your friends have fun. Right before you were about to leave the kitchen a guy with long black hair, ear piercings, and sweats on entered. He dug around the fridge which indicated he probably lived there with some other roommates. You got up about to leave before he stopped you.

“Hey, why are you leaving so soon?” He asked not batting an eye and pouring beer into a cup. It caught you off guard. Why did he care if you left, he looked like the type of guy to have a bunch of girls waiting for him.

“Uh, it’s not really my scene.” You said with an awkward chuckle. He closed the fridge and turned around to face you. That's when you got a good look at his face and he was hot.

“Want some?” He said holding out the red cup of beer. You politely declined before he took a seat across from you. “So if it’s not your scene, why’d you come in the first place?” He said staring at you as he started sipping some of his beer. You didn’t want to tell him that it was because of a boy, so you told him the partial truth.

“Because my friends are here and I wanted to check out the party.” You said as you sat back down. “What about you? Why are you here?” You said returning his question.

“Just came for the drinks and a few friends as well.” He said gulping down the rest of his beer. A moment of science passed before you got up.

“Well, I’m gonna head out now.” You said before you felt a strong grip on your shoulder. It was his.

“Wait, I just wanted to know your name.” He said putting his red cup on the table. You told him your name and he told you his name was Suguru.

“Have a good night.” He said walking back to the pile of drinks for his next one. You left the kitchen and navigated through the noisy party. Right before you left you heard a familiar voice call your name behind you. It was Satoru’s. You turned around and there he was with a red solo cup in his hand.

“I didn’t know if you’d come.” He said a little out of breath likely from chasing after you. “Here follow me, it’s too loud in here.” He muttered taking your hand and leading you somewhere. It was to the backyard where a few other people were, mostly the stoners. You two Sat down on the sofa and he smiled. “I’m glad you came, it was starting to get boring around here.” He said as he offered you his drink. You declined.

“Oh, I keep forgetting to ask you, can I have your number Y/N? It’s easier to text than DM on Instagram, you know?” He asked you. You were a little surprised but you gave it to him nonetheless.

“Great, now we can keep in contact.” He said as he smiled at you for the thousandth time that day. But that smile made you feel like you had butterflies in your stomach every time. “Uh so I stopped by a manga store after school and I got this one for you. I saw it was one of your favorite series and the latest volume just dropped. I hope you don’t already have it.” He said in a somewhat shy tone of voice as he rubbed the back of his head. You found it sweet that he had found one of your interests and bought it for you.

“No, actually I haven’t gotten the new volume, thanks!” You said giving him a small hug as you took the book. He smelled good was the main thing you noticed when you hugged him. Hugging him felt nice, and comforting. It was awkward when you stopped hugging and sat on opposite sides of the sofa. You tucked your hair behind your ear. It was clear Satoru was a little drunk but nothing too bad.

“Y/N, your confession didn’t mean nothing to me,” Satoru said suddenly breaking the silence. Confession? Right, you had almost forgotten that you had poured your feelings out to him before graduation because you thought he wasn’t coming to Kyoto, but now he’s here and it’s awkward.

Your eyes widened. “Oh.” That was all you managed to say as you locked eyes with him. You quickly looked down feeling the heat rush to your face. “Yeah about that-” He cut you off.

“And I think I like you too.”

Authors note: each chapter keeps getting longer and longer:p

5.0k words

<-previous Next chapter coming soon!

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gyll-yee-haw · 10 months ago

Note

Your age gap writings are so good! Can you write something where the reader is in her 20s in college and Jake protects her from hate from fans or maybe one of his friends is like 'She's way too young for you and she isnt famous or trying to be famous so why are you with her???' and Jake just shuts them down

Thank you so much, babyy <3

I've got a taste for men who are older, can't help it.... 😔

Warnings: age gap, misogyny (not from Jake obv), cockwarming, pool sex, size kink, oral (f), creampie, soft!dom Jake, daddy kink, so many pet names, a hint of innocence kink

Like 3.2k words

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It was a hot summer day. You were outside by the pool, book open in front of you as the sun burned your skin. You were finally relaxing after an exhausting semester in college.

Poor Jake, though, couldn't join you. He had a lot of things to solve about upcoming projects... you weren't complaining, you were extremely proud. And why would you even complain? Most days he worked from home. He sat with his laptop at the kitchen table, which was separated from the pool area by a glass door, that allowed him to enjoy the view of you in a bikini, living your best life. Well, you earned it, college can be really rough.

More often than not, you would tease him. Like when he was taking an important call and your bikini top would accidentally fall off... or when you (also accidentally) made eye contact with him while enjoying your popsicle a little too much... and all that would lead to him delaying his work just a little bit.

But tomorrow would be different. A few people on his team would come over for a meeting. So you told him you would just hide in the bedroom until they were finished. He insisted that the meeting shouldn't stop you from enjoying your time however you liked, but you said you preferred it that way. Not only you wouldn't feel comfortable having foreigner eyes on you, but you also didn't want to embarrass Jake... you knew by the comments you've been reading the kind of things people called you. You didn't want to give anyone any evidence that you were irresponsible or bad for his career.

So, by the time everyone arrived the next day, you were comfortably snuggling on your pillows, searching for something to watch on tv. Or some background noise for you to nap to.

Meanwhile, Jake was downstairs, discussing important things with his crew.

The meeting itself didn't take too long. But as everyone was saying goodbye, one of his oldest friends, who worked on his image's management asked him if it was okay for him to stay a little longer, so they could speak privately. Jake didn't mind and didn't think much of it... after all, they knew each other for a very long time, and would often talk about non-work related things.

"Hey, man." Jake greeted him as soon as the last person walked out. "Sit down, want something to drink?"

"No, I'm okay, I won't take too long, actually." The man replied in a very serious tone. "There's just something that a few of us been talking about and... we really didn't want to bring it up during the meeting, because it's quite delicate."

Jake's face fell. He had been so happy these last days... and the meeting was so successful, he didn't expect to have any trouble soon.

"Actually..." The man continued, as there was no response from Jake. "No one really wanted to bring it up, but... I'm your friend, am I not? I knew I had to."

"What's going on?" Jake asked, trying to get him to go straight to point, instead of explaining himself over and over again.

"It's about Y/N." He said at once. "Listen, man... I know you, I know you're in love and you're happy, but..."

"Hey, don't start." Jake felt his blood boil as he brought your name up. "I know what people say about her. But they don't know her. And neither do you."

"Jake, man..." he shook his head, hands on his waist as he tried get into Jake's head. "Come on, we all know how much shit starts with you don't know her, she's different..."

"Well, and you know that people on the internet are just waiting for opportunity to misinterpret something... at least you should know, since it's your job." Jake shrugged. "I mean... how many times did we have to deal with this?"

"Jake, I'm not talking as someone worried about your career. I know that these comments will die when they find someone else to cancel." He explained. "I'm talking as someone who's worried about you. You know how these girls are... maybe she finds a richer guy before the comments die, you know."

"Get out of my house." Jake closed his eyes and counted to ten, trying to keep his voice low.

"Come on, man..."

"Get the fuck out." He repeated. "If you leave right now, you're just fired. If I have to ask again, I'll make a few phone calls just to make sure you won't be getting another job anytime soon."

"You know what?" The man raised both hands in the air and chuckled. "You do whatever you want, I'm just trying to warn you..."

The look on Jake's face made him walk through the door without saying anything else.

Jake's body felt heavy and he allowed it to fall on the sofa. His heart ached. How could anyone talk about his princess that way? People didn't know how sweet and caring and kind you were. People didn't know how happy you made him.

"Fuck it." He rolled his eyes.

He was stressed and decided to take the rest of the day off. Take the day off to enjoy your company. You relaxed him like nothing else and nobody knew shit about you.

The eager manner he opened the bedroom door made you jump.

"Sorry, baby." He spoke as he climbed up the bed, resting his head on your chest. He left out a frustrated sigh.

"Oh no, what happened?" Your arms automatically wrapped around him. He looked exhausted.

"Just had to fucking fire someone." He replied, feeling his skin crawl. It made him even more angry to remember that asshole's words now, while he was being comforted by you. "Sexist piece of shit."

"Why?" Your eyes widened. He told you it would be a simple meeting... you would never expect things to end this way.

"I don't really wanna talk about it right now." He knew that if he told you, it would ruin your day. It would hurt your feelings, you would get insecure and maybe even feel a little guilty, which you absolutely didn't deserve. "But you could make me feel better, pretty princess."

Your face visibly lit up at the possibility. And that sparkle on your eyes made Jake regret not punching that guy on the face.

"Why don't you put your bikini on, darling?" He suggested. "Wanna spend the rest of the day by the pool with you, how does that sound?"

"Really?" You smiled at him, warming up his heart. "Just you and me, no work?"

"No work." He promised, returning your smile. "Hurry up, angel. I'll be downstairs waiting for you."

You didn't waste any time. You ran to the bathroom to put on your cutest bikini. One Jake himself bought you. You loved it when looking pretty for him could solve his problems. You felt so powerful.

When you were ready, you wrapped a towel around your body and went downstairs. From the kitchen, you could see him inside the pool. His hair was wet and the way he was breathing indicated he had swam a few laps already. You bit your lip. The roles were reversed at that moment. Now you were the one who was appreciating how the sun hit his wet skin so beautifully. His breathtaking body. God, no man your age looked like that.

But his beauty wasn't all that caught your eye. He also looked so stressed. And he tried to hide it as soon as he noticed you approaching the pool.

You tossed your towel on a chair and sat on the edge of the pool, feeling the water cover the lower half of your legs. He swan closer to you and placed his hands on your knees, which you took as sign to spread your legs. As soon as you did, he stood between them and cupped your cheeks with both hands, placing a sweet kiss on your nose.

You shivered as drops of cold water rolled down his fingers through your neck.

"I love you." He said, out of nowhere. "You make me so fucking happy."

"I love you too." You smiled, placing your hands on top of his, still on your face.

His hands went to your waist and he caught how your body reacted, letting out a laugh.

"What? Water is so cold..." you felt relieved by seeing him laugh.

"It kinda is." He admitted, and you knew that look in his eyes. He had an idea. "Why don't you come here and keep me warm, huh?"

"Alright, but give me a minute." You took a deep breath.

"Take your time, baby, I'm yours all day today." He leaned down, spreading your legs a bit more so he could place little kisses on the inside of your thighs, dangerously close to what your bikinis barely covered. "In fact, I'm yours all the time. Everyday. Even when I'm not here, you're all I think about."

"Yeah?" You bit your lip, bringing your hand to the back of his head, grabbing his hair very gently.

"I do." He continued his trail of kisses as he wanted to make sure not an inch of your thighs wouldn't feel loved. "If I could have my mouth on you all day I would, princess. For the rest of my life..."

He grabbed your thighs, making you move foward a bit. Then he used two fingers to pull your bikini panties to the side before getting his tongue on you. He licked your folds up and down slowly, like he was trying to discover what you tasted like. Like he didn't have you for breakfast that very morning. And the way his tongue began to work afterwards, hungrily, in and out of your hole, indicated he liked it very much.

He used his other hand to finger you, one finger in and out slowly, until he felt he could accommodate two, and as your moans got louder, he began curling them inside of you, all while he licked and sucked on your clit with passion.

Your hips bucked against his face and you pulled his hair, trying not to fall inside the pool, since you were dangerously close to the edge.

"Jake!" you gasped loudly. "Gonna cum, gonna cum..."

His mouth was working too hard on your clit and no force in the universe could make him stop at that moment, so he wasn't really able to reply, but you took that as a sign that he really wanted you to. And you did. You screamed his name, pulling his hair hard enough to make him moan against your core. When you were finished, you had to push him away, cause he didn't want to stop.

"Please... it hurts, too sensitive..." you begged.

He separated his mouth from you, wearing an unbearably gorgeous grin. Then he removed his fingers, immediately sucking them clean.

"Taste so fucking good, baby, can't help it, want more..."

"Fuck, Jake, I..."

"It's okay, princess. Won't you join me?" He helped you fix your bikini as if nothing had happened.

"I will, turn around."

He immediately understood what you meant. He turned his back to you and you hopped on it like a koala, gasping as you felt the water involving your whole body, arms and legs wrapping tighter around Jake's body.

"Easy, baby, you'll get used to it." He chuckled, moving around the pool with you in his back.

He was right, soon enough you felt your body relax against his.

"See, I'm keeping you warm." You said, kissing his shoulder.

"Oh, sweet girl..." he laughed. "That's not what I meant."

Your eyes widened at the realization. "Oh... I'm sorry, I'm so stupid."

"You're not stupid. You're my sweet, innocent little girl, aren't you?" He comforted you.

"I guess..." you felt your face grow warmer.

You untangled yourself from him, feet touching the floor. He turned around to face you.

"You're so pretty." He murmured, touching your face softly.

"Wanted to look pretty for you." You smirked. "Make you forget all your worries."

"You did it." His hand wrapped softly around your neck. "You're such a good girl for it."

"Hmm..." you started feeling him through his swimming shorts. "You're so hard."

"Yes, pretty girl. You did this." He brought his lips to yours, brushing softly as you reached inside his shorts.

His hands went to your hips and he kissed you to distract you from the fact he was getting rid of your bikini panties, then threw them somewhere outside the pool, keeping an eye contact that was enough to make you clench around nothing. He pulled his shorts down just enough to free his cock.

"Ready, baby?" He asked sweetly and you nodded. "Don't move, okay? Stay very still and relax."

You wrapped your legs around him and he entered you slowly. When he was all the way in, he stopped everything, just held you tightly.

"Just wanna relax with my pretty girl today." He said, giving your forehead a kiss. "Cock buried deep inside her, where it belongs."

It was the way he spoke the dirtiest things in the sweetest tone that always drove you crazy. That made you wanna bounce on his cock like no tomorrow. That made you moan under your breath, but he always, always heard you.

"What's wrong, princess?" He mocked.

"You're so fucking hot..." you almost cried as you watched him lift your bikini top and pinch your nipples.

"So cockdrunk and I didn't even fuck you properly." He kept playing with your tits.

"Please..." you whined.

"Y/N, it hasn't been 5 minutes." He kissed your neck. "Be patient, I thought you were a good girl... I just need a break, can't you see that?"

"I'm sorry." You moaned. "But... but you can take a break, and maybe I could move, just me?"

"Come on, you can do better than that." He laughed at how incoherent you sounded. "I know you know how to beg, baby. Just say the words, you have to be more clear."

He pinched your nipples again as he saw you hesitate.

"Jake, fuck!" You moaned in pain, feeling your pussy squeeze him. "Let me sit on your cock, PLEASE. I will be good, I promise..."

"That's better." He removed himself from you, earning protests. "Calm down, baby, I'm gonna do what you asked, unless you wanna be a brat..."

You bit your lip, to keep quiet.

He fixed his shorts and got out of the pool, signaling with his hand for you to follow him, and you did, like an obedient puppy obsessed with it's owner.

He sat on a chair, beside the pool, legs spread, waiting for you. You had to take a moment to appreciate his body again. His hairy chest, with a matching beard. He was so big... his thighs, his posture so masculine. The way he looked so intimidating, but was the softest when it came to you... he was perfect.

Soon enough you were standing between his legs. He kept eye contact with you as he got rid of your bikini top, directing his mouth to your tits as he grabbed your ass with both hands, hard enough to leave a mark.

"You're so fucking gorgeous." His voice was filled with lust as he spoke. "Gonna be a good girl and sit on my cock now?"

"Yes, fucking love your cock..." you agreed, feeling dumb as you saw it throb when he pulled it out of his pants.

"You're such a dirty girl, saying things like that... I mean, I know you love my cock, but jesus..." he mocked you with a smirk, helping your straddle him.

"Don't like it when I talk dirty, daddy?" You asked innocently.

"Fucking love it, baby, can't you see my cock throbbing? Come on, angel, make daddy cum like you promised, be good to me..."

He didn't even finish his words before you managed to get it inside of you, moaning at how good he stretched you.

You started moving up and down at a nice pace, knowing both of you were just too horny for games. Knowing that you only had the illusion of being on control because you were on top... but he could make you regret the smallest teasing.

"Fuck..." he moaned both at your movements and the sight of your tits boucing.

One of his hands cupped one of your breasts as the other one went to your hip, a sign that he wanted it harder. And you gave it to him harder.

"You're so good to me, such a pretty baby... you're gonna make me cum."

"Need you to!" You already looked and sounded like a mess, boucing on his cock as fast as you could, feeling your pussy start to squeeze him. "Need to you to cum inside, daddy..."

"Of course, baby, you deserve it, yeah?" Both his hands were now on your hips, handling you like a doll. "All of daddy's cum belongs to this pretty pussy..."

You cried out as you came again. So much harder. And he just kept thrusting hard, his thighs hitting your ass made a sound so loud you could barely hear him.

And then he came too, as deep as he could. He rested on the chair, breathing heavily and you collapsed on his chest. A few minutes of the most absolutely perfect peace he felt in days filled the air, and he breathed it in.

Not even your whines and protests when he pulled out could interrupt it, he just chuckled.

"Shhh it's okay, little one." He said sweetly. "Just wanna take care of my princess."

You accepted, feeling safe as he wrapped a towel around your body and stood up with you still in his arms. He carried you bridal style to the bedroom.

"Waaait! No!" You laughed as he tried to put you down on the bed. "We're still wet!"

"That doesn't matter, we'll change the sheets afterwards, come on..." he rolled his eyes. "Just wanna look at you for a second."

"You've been looking at me a lot these days..." you mocked him. "Watching me through that glass door, I see you pretending to work..."

"It's just hard to believe you're mine." He admited, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I'm afraid you'll disappear if I look away."

"That's right, I'm yours... and I'm not going anywhere." You promised, placing a soft kiss on his lips. "I love you, Jake."

You had no idea how much he needed to hear that. Of course he knew it, but having moments like this, so intimate, even more than the sex they just had, gave him strength to face all the bullshit people said about you and him. Cause in the end, this is what he was coming home to. He felt safe.

"I love you so much, my princess."

#jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal fanfic #jake gyllenhaal smut #jake gyllenhaal x you #jake gyllenhaal x y/n #jake gyllenhaal imagine

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elleloquently · 1 year ago

Text

[ ellie still fucking hated coffee.

but she finished off the drink, just because you made it. ]

| a/n : this has genuinely been in the works for months and im so excited to finally be posting it, so please consider leaving a comment/reblogging! it took ages but im very happy with the end result. over time i had a bunch of requests for coffee shop/college barista au's so i kinda mashed them together. please enjoy! <3

| c/w : swearing

coffee talk - ellie williams

the late summer air might've subconsciously motivated ellie's walk that day, her relaxed demeanour acted as a foolish guise from her anxious thoughts. she usually waited until the last possible minute to leave for class, but something today was different.

maybe she hoped that if she walked around for awhile, her body and mind would tire themselves before class, leaving herself sleepy with concentration instead. maybe she hoped that her early start would somehow prompt a late arrival to class, giving her an excuse to just not go.

ellie sighed, squinting in the sun. it was too early in the semester to start that bad habit.

she came across a little campus cafe on her wander, quickly recognizing it as the one that dina had frequented. she hesitated briefly, trying to peer through the glass windows in a not obvious way. it looked relatively empty, compared to the usual crowd, so ellie dragged herself inside.

the air conditioning instantly hit her warm skin, causing goosebumps on her arms. a small group had claimed a table by a window, chattering away with laptops covering the table top. ellie wasn't exactly sure what she was looking for, and the line was pretty short, not allowing her much time to think. ellie lingered in the doorway, wondering how strange it may appear if she turned on her heel and immediately exited the establishment right after entering, until she heard possibly the sweetest voice to ever hit her ears.

"have a nice day," you regarded softly, handing someone their drink with a quick smile.

you were still relatively new at the job, fumbly and awkward with the interactions. your previous job had sucked. your co-workers were mean, you were paid basically nothing, and you were left with little time to complete assignments. your final straw was getting yelled at over the phone by your manager after calling off of work with the flu.

finally gathering the courage to quit, your friend had rallied you up to work at a campus cafe alongside her. the idea of that sort of work scared you, talking to customers, making drinks, but the pay was good and the hours were flexible. you put in an application and by the end of the week, you had started the training process. it was relatively comfortable, until your friend had suddenly decided to quit and left you alone.

"sorry," she had apologized weakly. "i think i might pick up doordashing or something instead."

you pushed out a quick sigh, drumming your fingers on the counter before plastering a smile on your face, moving to greet the next customer.

ellie craned her neck, trying to see the owner of the voice above the heads of the people that stood in line. once her eyes landed upon you, ellie sucked in a breath. she moved wordlessly into the line, no plan of action in mind.

she watched, dazed, as you entered orders and nodded. when you turned around to grab something and ellie spotted the bow that you were wearing in your hair, her palms began to feel warm. she strained her ears, desperate to hear your voice again above the sound of conversation and the typical coffee shop music.

ellie didn't even notice that there was another person, some guy, also behind the counter until he switched spots with you, greeting a different customer.

fuck, ellie thought, rapidly looking around to watch where you were going. you disappeared into the back, behind a set of secretive doors. ellie's heart sank. she would be up soon, and she didn't even know what she was doing. she didn't want to talk to some random guy.

she just... wanted to talk to some... random girl?

fuck.

someone else wandered into the cafe. ellie contemplated making that person's day, wondering if she should just leave the line. of course she should, this was stupid, but then you reappeared. you were carrying a small brown box, and huffed at a strand of hair that had fallen into your face.

ellie was almost up, and she rapidly began praying to any type of higher power that would listen. please don't let it be the guy, please don't let it be the fucking guy-

"hi," you greeted automatically, restocking a small display of reward punch cards. "what can we get for-" you finally dragged your eyes upwards, freezing at the sight of ellie.

your gaze widened and you mentally cursed yourself for having a horrible poker face. the girl standing in front of you was extremely attractive, to say the very least. you felt trapped in her green-eyed gaze, hand hovering above the cards that you were previously toying with.

ellie cleared her throat, shifting awkwardly on her feet. if anyone's voice matched their appearance perfectly, it was yours. you looked doe-eyed, caught off guard, and ellie's face flushed.

you blinked at the slight cough, snapping back into customer service mode. "what can i get for you?" you asked, pointedly changing the we to i. she had freckles. the smile you offered wasn't forced, but genuine.

fuck. fuck fuck fuck. she had to actually order something, not just stand there and stare at you. it was ellie's turn to be wide eyed, as she scrambled to pinpoint something from the menu. god. she really didn't want to be that person. you had all that time waiting in line, just pick something for christ sake!

you stood awkwardly, smile wavering as you waited for a reply. at least while the cute stranger was distracted by the menu, you could use the opportunity to stare.

mentally, ellie was a mess. she had held the skill of reading for the majority of her life now, but ellie couldn't make sense of a single word that was displayed on the menu. everything blurred together and she could feel your eyes on her as she scrambled for something to say.

"uh, what do you recommend?" ellie questioned, meeting your gaze. her cheeks burned when she noticed that you had winced. ellie wasn't being cute or friendly, she was being annoying. the last thing that you probably wanted was to rattle off a list of seasonal beverages you had been asked to promote. ellie mentally cursed herself, but you were stuttering for an answer before she could take her inquiry back.

"oh! um, well there's the..." you glanced over your shoulder at the seasonal drink specials, and ellie held back a grimace. poor fucking girl, she thought.

your face burned. you were still pretty new to the job, and honestly, penny pinching. despite the few that you've snuck during your shift, you hadn't tried many of the drinks yet. you so badly wanted to have a quick answer, something to impress her with your amazing taste. instead, you faltered, taking too long to answer.

"sorry," you laughed, shaking your head sheepishly. "i'm pretty new to this," you explained, ignoring the stare that you were getting from your co-worker. please don't ask to help me, you silently pleaded. despite the awkwardness of the interaction, you didn't want it to be cut short. you wanted to know if her freckles were always that visible, or if they popped out more due to the summer sun.

"that's okay," ellie said, a little too quickly. she looked down at the nametag that you wore on your apron. your name was written neatly, in your own style with a mix of cursive and regular letters. you had drawn a little flower next to your name.

"that board has some of our summer features though," you explained, finally regaining your footing. you nodded in the direction of a display board. "they're super popular, people really like them. i've tried the lavender one actually, it's super good. uh, we unfortunately don't get the pumpkin spice stuff in for... two more weeks, i think? so... i'm sorry about that," you quietly rambled, wringing your hands.

"pumpkin spice? it's barely september," ellie commented, wrinkling her nose. her attention was drawn to your nails, painted perfectly and neat. she wondered how big of a fool she would be making herself out to be if she attempted to flirt with you.

you shrugged, grinningly bashfully. "it's good," you resigned.

noted, ellie thought. i like pumpkin spice now. ellie opened her mouth to ask about the lavender thing, but the girl behind her in line obnoxiously cleared her throat.

ellie's eyebrows raised and you glanced apologetically at the other girl, who was tapping her foot.

"i'll be right with you," you commented. the girl scoffed and ellie's lips twisted at the sound. you were so sweet, wasting one of your pretty smiles on someone who didn't deserve it.

"yeah, no big deal," the girl replied sarcastically. "it's not like i have a class to get to or anything." she looked around the room, trying to garner support for herself, but no one was paying attention.

"i'll be right with you," you reiterated with a harsher tone. ellie fully blushed, feeling guilty for delaying the interaction. now you were getting backlash and your co-worker was completely eyeing you up, and ellie felt at fault for it. you met her eyes again, apologizing with a sad smile. ellie's grip on the strap of her bag tightened.

"sorry," ellie mumbled as her cheeks burned. "i'll get, um-"

the girl in line sighed again and ellie lost her train of thought, noticing that you were holding back your frustration with a tight smile. finally, a good idea emerged in ellie's head. she knew dina's order by heart. dina was certainly a creature of habit, at least when it came to her food and drink orders. ellie had heard dina order a million times.

ellie confidently allowed dina's coffee order to roll off of her tongue. you blinked in surprise as she gave specific directions, a direct contrast to how clueless she had seemed just a moment ago.

you frantically entered the order into the system, scared of making a mistake and looking dumb. "hey," you called softly, gaining the attention of your co-worker. you recited the order to him, to which he nodded in understanding.

"what's your name?" you asked politely. you grabbed a sharpie, waiting.

ellie's heart skipped a beat and she thought maybe she would have stood a chance, until she realized that you were asking for the drink and not because you genuinely wanted to know.

except, really, you did want to know. having to ask was just a perk.

"ellie."

"ellie," you repeatedly warmly. it was the best thing that ellie had ever heard. "i like it," you mumbled, grabbing a cup from a stack.

"thank you," ellie mumbled, watching as you wrote her name on the cup. your teeth pulled at your bottom lip in concentration, determined to use your best writing. once you had gotten to the second L, you looked up.

"oh," you realized sheepishly. "you can go wait at the end," you gently instructed her. ellie could've facepalmed herself for her stupidity, but didn't want to drag herself away from your presence. ellie wanted to say something more, but failed. she did, however, feel as though she had caused you enough trouble for the day. ellie gave you an awkward smile, as genuine as she could manage, before moving to step away.

once ellie had turned away, you realized your mistake.

"oh! wait!" you called, your voice louder than it had been all day. ellie froze, wondering if she had done something wrong or maybe you wanted to ask for her number.

the girl who was supposed to be next groaned.

"i'm so sorry," you whispered once ellie's body was in front of you again. "i forgot to have you pay," you muttered your confession, humiliated as your co-worker made a tsssk sound.

ellie thought that after this, she might drop out of college and move somewhere, maybe the country. somewhere far away from civilization.

"fuck," ellie swore under her breath, quickly rummaging through her bag for her wallet. "sorry," she said. you gave her the total, eyes lingering on ellie's tattoo while she swiped her card.

"um, do you want a reward card?" you asked, your voice sounding more robotic compared to before.

ellie was ready to automatically say no, but she took in the sight of your rounded cheeks and bashful smile.

"i would love one," ellie replied, and she felt as though her body jolted when your fingers grazed hers, handing over the card.

"if you buy nine drinks, the tenth one is on us!" you chirped, clearly haven gave this spiel before.

"jesus, nine?" ellie grumbled, and to her horror, your smile dropped.

"that's a great number!" she exclaimed awkwardly, scrambling to fix her mistake.

you nodded. "have a good day," you dismissed, and ellie's stomach lurched.

as ellie made her way to the end of the counter, she heard an exasperated "finally!" before you began to mumble apologies. ellie rolled her eyes. asshole.

when her name was called and she was handed her drink, ellie froze. her name, written pretty in your handwriting, punctuated with a doodle of a smile. her pulse quicked, and ellie wondered if she had always been this pathetic or if she had just gotten soft.

before she left, she turned around to give you one last look. you saw her heading for the door, and strained your neck to look at ellie once more before she was gone. you made eye contact, and ellie almost did an awkward half wave that certainly would've kept her up at night, cringing.

you tore your eyes away from ellie, mentally cursing yourself. but god, she was cute.

ellie shook her head discouragingly, once again met with the warm breeze of the afternoon as she stepped outside. she stared down at the little smiley on her cup. ellie frowned. she didn't really like coffee, but she also didn't want to throw it away. she heaved a sigh, holding the beverage as she began her trudge to class.

the doodled smiley carried ellie on a high throughout the entire day.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

ellie had come to find out that maybe, she wasn't particularly good at rationalizing with herself.

she figured that she would have a pretty good chance at seeing you again if she were to visit the cafe on the same day of the week and at the same time that she had previously seen you. she also figured that purposefully seeking out a stranger at their place of employment was pretty damn creepy.

when ellie passed by the cafe on her newly adjusted route to class, she craned her neck each time in hopes of catching a glimpse of you through the window. unfortunately for herself, ellie hadn't been so lucky.

if she had seen you, would she go inside?

mentally, ellie told herself no, but the answer was lousy.

maybe ellie would have, but only to try that lavender whatever drink that has been advertised on the chalkboard sign outside of the cafe. the flowers decorating the board looked a lot like the one doodled on your nametag and... did you draw them? was it your handwriting in purple, swooping letters that she saw now, nearly every day?

will power strong, but her delusion even stronger, ellie did not revisit the cafe and she did not have a crush on a barista that she met only once.

it was purely coincidental that exactly a week later, ellie left early for class again. she accidentally found herself walking the path to the cafe, and since she was so early anyway, ellie found no harm in stopping inside to get a break from the early september heat.

it was practically empty inside, so ellie's gaze quickly found its way to you.

you appreciated a slow day. the campus starbucks had finally staffed up enough to open for the semester, consequently stealing a lot of the little cafe's business. your coworkers complained and groaned about the matter, but you didn't mind. you sort of preferred it like this anyway.

the door chiming drew your attention instantly, and you were quick to recognize the auburn haired girl from the previous week. the sight of her made you grin, teeth on display before you had a moment to overthink it.

ellie's eyes were on you from the moment she stepped inside, and you noticeably faltered.

you weren't smiling right, so you straightened up your posture and dropped your eyes. you didn't want to smile too much, in a way that would be strange to greet a customer that you had only once before.

you pressed your lips into a tight smile. more formal, less i'm glad to see you again. i totally wasn't keeping an eye out for you during every single shift.

there was no line to restrain ellie today, and she sort of wished that there had been. a handful of seconds felt like ages as ellie shuffled to the counter. you were fidgeting, looking at ellie and then looking away.

ellie thought that she might be able to be confident today, swift and suave and just flirty enough to let you on to the idea that she could potentially be interested.

interested in what exactly, ellie wasn't so sure. she had girlfriends before, of course, and had admittedly flirted with her fair share of girls through time. obsessing over somebody random after one encounter though, that was new.

"uh, hey," ellie coughed. off to a fucking strong start, moron.

"hi!" you chirped, wringing your hands behind the counter. if you remembered her, and acted as such, would she think it was weird? what if you pretended not to remember her, but she did remember you, and then she thought that you were rude?

the sound of your voice filled a void that had been left within ellie since the previous week. the reaction it prompted within her was so fucking ridiculous that she deemed herself to be an idiot.

ellie did not have feelings for a barista that she saw once.

well, twice now, but still. no fucking thank you.

"what can i do for you?" you questioned, customer service manners causing your voice to raise in pitch.

there's a few things that you could- ellie scrunched her eyebrows with a pained expression, tearing herself away from the disgusting thought. jesus christ, what was actually wrong with her?

your smile never wavered as you waited, but your heart was racing. why on earth was it so awkward?

c'mon, fucking pull yourself together. if it goes wrong, you never have to show your face in here again, ellie thought.

"i actually wanted to try that drink you recommended last time," ellie said smoothly.

surprise registered clearly across your face, along with one blaring thought. she remembered you!

the second thought, the always displeasing afterthought, dropped like a weight in your chest. you were pretty sure the cafe didn't have the ingredients you would need.

you smiled anyway, (she remembered you!) giddy and nervous.

"the lavender one, right?" you questioned, and ellie was so in. you remembered the interaction, which might not mean anything at all, but it was better than being forgotten.

"right," ellie confirmed, nodding once with an easy smile.

"right," you repeated, and ellie instantly noticed the uncomfortable expression on your face. shit.

“um so,” you winced as you started, really not in the mood to receive the lashings of an unhappy customer. “i believe we are actually out of the lavender, i can go check in the back just to make sure if you want…”

ellie wanted to say no, that’s totally fine, you’re beautiful and don’t even worry about it, but her mouth tended to work faster than her brain.

ideally, she wouldn’t be opposed to a moment alone to compose herself, so ellie mumbled a quick “sure, that’s fine,” and tried not to be a creep as you turned and quickly walked away, disappearing behind a set of doors into the back.

you already knew there was no possible way that you could make the drink, and you already knew that there were no extra ingredients hidden in the back. you wondered if you could stay hidden and just not go back out.

"i am so sorry," you began, voice high and apologetic as you made your way back to your standing place. "unfortunately we don't ha-"

"that's fine!" ellie squeaked, crimson patching its way onto her cheeks. ellie thought that maybe she should buy you a drink, since it seemed like she only showed up to cause extra trouble for you.

ellie pictured it so clearly in her mind, asking whatever your favorite drink was and ordering it, only to give it to you instead. was that smooth, or lame? she imagined telling jesse and dina about it later and pictured them giving her praise instead of wincing in second-hand embarrassment, so it was game on.

"is there anything else i could get you?" you questioned, tugging at your bottom lip with your teeth.

"actually-"

"hey, excuse me, can i get an ice water to go?"

ellie quickly snapped in the direction of the person who interrupted her. a guy stood near a table in which he was previously sat, packing up a laptop and notebook.

"of course!" you turned away from ellie and she would have sworn that she felt her heart burst. "what size?"

ellie watched intently, jealous as you prepared the simple water cup. why couldn't she be an easy customer like that? what the fuck was wrong with her?

"sorry about that," you muttered sheepishly. your hand hovered over the cash register, still waiting to take ellie's order.

your nails were painted the same color as last time, ellie noted, but they were starting to chip.

"it's all good," ellie breezed, and suddenly remembered that she actually had a class to get to. she recited the previous coffee order without a second thought, thanks dina, and you nodded along intently. you weren't really great at remembering faces and their orders, but something in you made you want to memorize ellie's.

ellie paid (you remembered this time, but no co-worker was around to see it) and she held back a snort when you pulled out a little pink stamp pad.

"do you have your reward card?" you questioned, leaving ellie to look dumbfounded.

"my what?"

"the reward card? buy nine drinks, the tenth is on us?"

"oh! oh, shit," ellie fumbled for her wallet, making a sound of recognition as she pulled out the card. "of course i do," ellie remarked. you swallowed a giggle.

you stamped her card with the pretty pink ink and then began to make the drink. ellie mentally cursed herself for once again ordering something that she didn't like, but it was too late now.

"here you go!" you presented. you had wrote ellie on the cup, even though you technically didn't need to since no one else was around. ellie appreciated it anyway.

"thanks," she murmured, failing to meet your gaze.

"have a good day, okay?"

"you too," ellie remarked, holding up her cup in parting.

when she was outside and the fresh air began to clear her mind, ellie forbid herself from ever going back to that cafe. it was painfully and unnecessarily awkward, especially considering that she didn't know you.

still, her heartstrings were tugged as she stared down at the drink in her hand. last time, your co-worker had actually been the one to make the drink, so ellie didn't feel any guilt about pouring it down the sink.

however, you were the one to make it today. and you were so sweet, and ellie couldn't bear to just throw it away.

ellie gulped, staring at the cup with a grimace. she took a fast, quick sip, and then coughed into her arm so she wouldn't gag.

ellie still fucking hated coffee. but she finished off the drink, just because you made it.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

the next morning, ellie was up early with a mission. a study session with dina wasn't exactly the best thing to motivate ellie to wake up early, but an excuse to see if you were working definitely was.

ellie had no clue of your schedule except for the one day of the week that she had already seen you. it might have been a long shot, but fuck it, the least she could do was get dina a coffee on her way.

campus was quiet when it was early. ellie certainly preferred it that way. it was peaceful, the way the morning light projected a certain softness onto her surroundings. she knew the cafe was open this early, ellie had googled it about seven times the night prior and twice more in the morning to be safe.

to confirm the information once more, ellie could see the glowing lights through the window. it appeared empty, and ellie couldn't even tell who the person was inside until she entered.

"hi," you said almost instantly, and your tone made it clear that you were surprised.

"hi," ellie repeated, not being able to believe her luck.

you had been wiping a table, but you placed the rag down and moved to the counter as you continued to speak.

"you're really determined to burn through that reward card, huh?"

your joke caught ellie off guard, and her feet were carrying her before she told them to. ellie didn't even feel like a person yet, how were you making jokes so early?

"i'll be getting my free drink by noon," ellie retorted.

"ambitious, i like it," you laughed.

ellie was going to have a good day.

she didn't really give a fuck about the reward card, honestly, ellie would only use it if you were around. she was prepared on the off chance that you would be working, and caught you by surprise as she slapped it on the countertop.

"so what'll it be? your usual?" you questioned, tilting your head to the side.

ellie mentally cursed herself for hitting rock bottom, because receiving basic customer service shouldn't be having that effect on her.

"yeah, actually," ellie confirmed, looking flustered as her face dusted pink.

"perfect," you murmured, fingers dancing along the order screen. shit.

"um, shit," you laughed awkwardly, face burning. "i promise i know it but also could you like, remind me?"

ellie laughed because everything about you was so endearing and also because she didn't want you to feel embarrassed.

"for sure," ellie enthused, going through the steps of the order. as you tapped the screen, ellie noted that your nails were painted a different color today.

you were a little slower at making the drink today, not that ellie minded. it was peaceful, watching you hum as you did every step so delicately. ellie felt lucky to be the only person there with you, and then hoped she wasn't weird for having the thought.

the song playing quietly through the speakers above caught ellie's attention once she had noticed that it was the one that you were humming along to. the sound of the acoustic guitar got stuck in ellie's head like a daydream, your absent minded mutters filling the spaces of silence.

"oh man, i love this song," ellie gushed.

"yeah?" you looked up with a grin, pleased by ellie's comment. "me too."

perfect girl. ellie watched as you picked up a sharpie, turning your back to her.

"what other stuff do you guys play here?" ellie questioned, craning her neck to try and see what you were drawing on her cup.

"uh," you didn't think that you had ever been this concentrated on decorating someone's cup before. "anything, mostly. we play our own playlists, like, whoever's working, you know?"

ellie nodded, even though you couldn't see her. "this is yours?"

"my playlist?" you turned back around, immediately caught in ellie's green eyed gaze. "yeah! i don't play my own stuff much though, unless i'm here alone."

"i get that," ellie murmured, watching as you once again made yourself busy.

it was quiet just for a moment, until you handed ellie her drink. your fingers touched for just a moment but your pulse quickened. you hoped you weren't making things weird, but worried that you were by the way ellie dropped her eyes after the small touch.

ellie was silent while she payed, but only because she was trying to think of something more to say.

"hey," ellie said suddenly, causing your eyebrows to raise. "you didn't stamp my card," she complained.

"oops," you said, reaching for your stamp.

"i can't believe you're trying to cheat me out of a free drink," ellie stated, feigning fake shock.

"yeah, guess you'll just have to come back more," you responded through a laugh.

your joke sobered ellie's expression. the brief change made you freeze, and you couldn't decide whether or not the joke was incorrect. oh my god, you barely knew her. then again, it could have been passed off as just a joke about getting more business.

"guess i will," ellie agreed quietly, and your breath caught in your throat. was she joking or flirting? was there something, or were you sleep deprived and crushing on an extremely attractive girl that you barely even knew?

ellie felt satisfied with herself, though was determined to leave before she could manage to fuck anything up.

"thank you," she concluded, moving towards the door.

"anytime. see you soon for that free drink, right?"

ellie scanned your features and cracked a smile. "definitely. have a good one, okay?"

"okay," you sighed and then coughed awkwardly. "have a good day!"

after ellie had left, you slid down to the floor and covered your head in your hands. what the hell were you doing?

ellie quickened her pace to get to dina's, but after one glance at her cup she stopped short.

in black sharpie, you had drawn a flower and a little bee. and then, ellie's name in cursive.

fuck.

ellie looked back towards the direction of the cafe, wondering how creepy she might come off as if she were to march back in there and ask you out.

the doodle on the cup quite literally made her heart ache, and she stood indecisively on the sidewalk.

ellie had gotten this coffee for dina to be a good friend.

ellie also could not fucking stand the idea of passing this cup off to dina and then seeing it be thrown in the trash.

"fuck," ellie muttered.

whatever, dina could use her own fucking cup.

ellie would explain, sort of. maybe.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

"ellie, what the hell is wrong with you?"

dina's shoes slapped heavy against the pavement in a rushed attempt to keep up with her best friend. her hand reached for ellie's arm, a little aggressively, as ellie nearly shoulder checked some guy zooming past on a skateboard.

"huh? nothing," ellie dismissed, blinking around her surroundings as if she had never been on campus before.

"yeah? nothing? since when do you ever want to get a coffee," dina mocked the way ellie had proposed the plan earlier, earning a frustrated sigh from the auburn haired girl.

ellie shook her head, fixating her eyes on the little cafe that she was growing quite familiar (and fond) of.

"change of scenery would be nice," ellie grumbled. "come on, i'm being a good friend. you love this place."

"you're being so weird," dina muttered, stepping ahead of ellie to open the door.

the sudden chill of the air conditioning was a shock to ellie's warm skin. she tried not to look at you as she trailed in after dina.

"i'm gonna get-"

"let me," ellie interrupted, causing dina to raise an eyebrow. "how about you find us a seat and i'll order drinks, yeah?"

the environment was loud with orders and chatter, leaving little room to set up and study. ellie straightened her posture, appearing a lot more confident than she felt.

dina nodded, rolling her eyes with a grin. "i'll grab a table."

ellie waited until dina's back was turned to take a shaky breath as she pivoted to the ordering counter. there wasn't much of a line, only one person, though a gaggle of people waited off to the side for their names to be called.

you didn't notice ellie until she was in line, shifting on her feet and stealing glances that she probably assumed you wouldn't catch.

"hi," you chirped, gaining her attention.

ellie's gaze snapped upwards. she felt surprised to hear your voice, even though you were the sole reason for her even coming inside in the first place. the smile that graced your lips made her head spin, and she was suddenly all too aware that dina was probably watching her now.

"hi," ellie repeated, a little too meekly for her own liking.

"how are you?" you questioned, dropping any trace of your customer service voice.

"good now," ellie replied.

you raised a curious brow but smiled anyway, the presence of your ever growing favorite 'stranger' was exactly the type of break that you yearned for on a day like today.

there was no denying the silly way that ellie made you feel, no matter how much you argued it with yourself.

it wasn't typical of you to get butterflies while customers were ordering.

you relaxed your posture, grateful that there was a lack of impatient people lining up behind ellie. your co-worker was making drinks so you were free to chat, even just for a minute.

"what can i get for you?" you forced yourself to meet ellie's eyes, which you realized quickly was a difficult task.

looking in her eyes for too long made your head whirl. her gaze was so steady, so intentional, it honestly threw you for a loop.

when ellie began to recite the coffee order that you were expecting, you laughed a little and tapped away on the ordering screen and ellie's mouth felt dry with nerves.

"-and uh, a water. please," ellie finished, resting her hand and wallet on the counter.

"switching things up on me now?" you joked, shaking your head with a tsk. "just as i was starting to memorize it."

"gotta keep you on your toes," ellie quipped. if she leaned in closer, just a little, she could smell your perfume. "surely all your other customers don't give you enough of a hard time."

you smiled knowingly with a quick laugh, grabbing the card that ellie was now holding out to you. your fingers touched just briefly and ellie flushed instantly.

"you're totally the most difficult customer we've ever had," you deadpanned.

the humor was on ellie's caliber, and she had started it, yet your sarcastic remark instantly had her feeling guilty.

"right," ellie muttered, and she felt stupid because she knew it was a joke and you were only playing along and what did she expect, a fucking compliment?

"i'm kidding," you rushed, sliding ellie's card back to her. "you're like, the best one."

now ellie really felt like an idiot. she fumbled to return her card into her wallet and tried to ignore how warm she felt.

you smiled awkwardly and ellie wanted to believe that you were being sincere on a personal level, not just reciting some customer service bullshit. completely aware of the fact that she was overthinking it, ellie choked on a laugh. maybe she was just scarred from the trader joe's shopping experience.

"you say that to everyone," ellie recovered, her voice a lot smoother than she felt.

"oh," you disagreed, wide eyed. "pinkie promise. i like when you come in 'cause i don't have to worry about potentially being yelled at or like, verbally attacked."

ellie briefly contemplated making a stupid joke, but your twitchy smile made her heart ache and she wished that she could hang out in the cafe all day, ready to defend you from any asshole that comes in with an attitude.

"never," ellie responded, finally catching your eye. "i would never."

"i know," you replied softly, and immediately felt your face grow warm with embarrassment. why were you being so earnest? you didn't ACTUALLY know, anyway. but you wanted to trust those green eyes, so you did.

this is good, ellie thought. she wanted to say something else, maybe ask a question, but you pushed off the counter and clicked your tongue.

"i'll get you the water while you wait for your coffee," you said quickly, turning away and making yourself busy.

ellie's mouth snapped shut, her racing thoughts stopping dead in their tracks. she noticed that the bow you wore in your hair matched the color of your slouchy sweater and she had to get to know you.

pouring a water obviously didn't take as long as preparing a coffee, so ellie didn't understand why she seemed so caught off guard when you handed her the water.

"thanks..." ellie murmured. talking was usually pretty easy for ellie, considering how long she's been able to do it, so the fact that her mouth and words were drying up now had her about ready to tug at her hair in frustration.

"sorry," you smiled sheepishly. "i would totally make your coffee so you wouldn't have to wait, but i'm on register duty.. so..."

ellie noticed as you tapped your painted nails on the register and oh my fucking god, your nails matched your bow and sweater. how the fuck?

"that's okay, i don't mind waiting," ellie replied smoothly, and the words left her mouth before she could even process them. "as long as i can wait over here?"

here was referring to exactly where she was standing, at the counter with you. your cheeks burned and you nodded once, a silent reply.

"sure," you finally managed to choke out. "i don't blame you, it gets overwhelming waiting in crowds like that..."

fumbled. fumbled fumbled fumbled.

"uh, yeah."

as awkward as it was, you hoped it took a while longer for ellie's drink to be finished. she was cute, there was no sense in trying to deny yourself from acknowledging it. it's not like you were going to say anything, and if it made five minutes of your day more interesting, so what?

"don't tell me you forgot about the reward card," you teased, an easy fall back.

"never," ellie replied, but her eyes widened as she struggled to find it in her wallet. "shit."

you shook your head in disapproval. "and to think i just called you my best customer?"

"ouch," ellie mumbled. "i'll find it, i swear," ellie rushed, taking the idea of a stupid card much too seriously. she was well aware of the fact, but still. you were the one to give it to her after all.

you giggled at her strained expression and rose colored cheeks. "don't worry about it. hey, have you been to that coffee shop downtown?"

ellie's heartbeat quickened, and she wondered if you could tell based purely upon the look on her face. she was nearly ecstatic that you were genuinely talking to her, asking her something, and she wanted to deliver. it was a little deflating though. ellie didn't really love coffee shops, and she didn't want to provide you with an underwhelming answer.

"which one?" ellie inquired, loving the little smile that appeared on your lips before you answered her question.

"it's on the corner of main, on the inside it has this super cool v-"

"vinyl store?" ellie finished, beaming with excitement. "dude, i fucking love that place. i'm there like, every week."

"yeah?" you enthused, butterflies swirling your stomach. "me too! maybe we like... saw each other there before."

"i don't think so," ellie said instantly.

"i mean, you might've, maybe you just don't remember," you offered.

"i would've remembered," ellie replied seriously. she quickly wondered if her response was too cheesy, but you drew your eyes downward and tried to suppress a smile and ellie felt fine.

"fair enough," you mumbled, tracing shapes on the counter.

"so, do you collect vinyls or do you just-"

"did you forget my drink order or what?" dina joked, coming up behind ellie.

ellie shook her head, shifting awkwardly on her feet. shit.

"just waiting," ellie mumbled. she didn't know why she felt uncomfortable, maybe the idea of crushing on the barista at her friend's favorite coffee shop when she didn't even LIKE coffee but was suddenly spending all of her free minutes there, was, odd.

you recognized the girl next to ellie, dina. she came in pretty frequently.

ellie's name was called by your co-worker as her, no - dina's drink was placed on the counter.

"well, wait no longer," dina laughed, playfully shoving ellie away.

ellie glanced at you briefly before grabbing the drink, handing it off to dina with a cheesy grin.

oh.

the smile dropped from your face just as it felt as though your heart dropped into your stomach. you felt so stupid. especially considering all of the effort you had put into trying to make ellie's cups look cute, and they weren't even for ellie.

you watched as they sat down together and huffed out a sigh, startling as your co-worker tapped you on the shoulder to inform you that they were going on break.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

ellie couldn't stop thinking about you. she had avoided the cafe for a few days following your last interaction. she didn't understand why, but it made her feel guilty.

it's not like she even had a reason to feel that way. but hey, she was a loyal girl. if she decidedly had a secret crush on a barista that she barely knew, it was sacred!

the way that your demeanor had changed was stuck in ellie's head, and honestly, maybe it was making her a little too hopeful. the look on your face had to have meant something.

on the other hand, this was coming from someone who's idea of flirting was smiling while somewhat remaining eye contact.

seriously. seriously? fuck it.

ellie didn't like coffee anyway.

if she completely humiliated herself and ultimately freaked you out forever, she just wouldn't go back to the cafe! easy!

the sunlight covering campus was soft. it would be dark soon, and ellie felt exhausted after a long day of classes. she was well aware that this was definitely a long shot, but she had to try. she had been buying a lot of coffee lately.

please, please let it be worth something.

the sky was fading blue when ellie appeared upon the cafe. the sign on the door said CLOSED! but the lights were on and ellie could've fallen to her knees and screamed thank you to the universe because she could see that you were inside.

you didn't flinch when the bell on the door chimed, signaling its opening.

"we're closed," you stated without looking up, powering off a small machine.

"i know," ellie breathed, standing in the doorway.

you blinked, suddenly feeling flushed. you straightened your posture and waited, unsure what to make of the situation.

surely she wasn't secretly one of those people who were like, i don't care if you're closed, give me my damn coffee now!

you silently pleaded to the universe for that to not be the case. you already had a rough day as is.

"what do you want?" you asked, a hint of exhaustion in your tone.

everything in ellie's body wanted to backpedal. maybe she really did misread everything.

"um, i wanted to say.. uh-"

oh for fuck's sake. just say it.

"i wanted to say sorry?" ellie offered, false confidence leading her to the counter.

"sorry for what?" you questioned, wrinkling your nose.

"i don't like coffee," ellie blurted out. the absurdity made you laugh.

"that's.. okay?" you crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow at the green eyed girl.

"i've just been buying them for my friend," ellie continued, adding more emphasis than necessary to friend.

you pretended not to be delighted. "that's okay. it doesn't matter who customers buy their drinks for," you pointed out.

ellie swallowed a sigh. being referred to plainly as a customer (even though that's exactly what she was) was possibly the most devastating thing to ever happen in her life.

"i know," ellie replied, really amping it up. "i just wanted you to know. that i was buying them for a friend."

your heart was beating so quickly, you felt like a hummingbird.

"oh," you muttered, feeling stumped. "it doesn't matter what i think," you said quickly, looking at the floor.

"it does. i liked the bee. and the little flower. they were cute," ellie explained. her cheeks were completely red and yours were certainly warming up as well.

"thanks.. i thought they were cute too," you said softly, kicking your shoe at the ground.

"great. can i have your number?"

as the words left ellie she blinked heavily, startled by her own actions.

your brain turned to mush. you wanted to laugh but nothing came out so you just stared at ellie in silence.

"mine?"

ellie nodded.

"sure," you breathed, walking to pull out a pad of paper by the register. you retrieved a pen and wrote your number, followed by your name in cursive.

ellie waited in silence, holding her breath. you very easily could've just typed your number into her phone, but ellie found it incredibly endearing that you actually wrote it down instead.

"it's really nice of you to do stuff like that," you murmured, handing the paper to ellie. "buying coffee for a friend and all that."

"not entirely," ellie disagreed, forcing herself to meet your eyes.

you raised your eyebrows in question, and ellie shook her head.

"it wasn't exactly selfless."

"why?" you asked, a curious smile embellishing your features.

"i was only buying stuff so i had an excuse to come in."

you bit back a grin and leaned against the counter. "it's still nice of you to get something for someone else if you didn't like coffee... but why didn't you get like, a smoothie or tea or something?"

ellie didn't have an answer, you could tell by the look on her face and it made you laugh.

"what do you like?" you asked.

"i don't know? tea's fine. hot chocolate?"

you rolled your eyes, pointing to the menu above you that clearly had hot chocolate labeled as a menu item.

"so what? it's september." ellie wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"oh, you're one of those people," you observed, watching ellie's features contort into confusion.

"one of what people?"

"people who only drink seasonally appropriate drinks," you pointed out.

"i... guess?" ellie tried to hold a decent conversation, but she was still buzzing about getting your number and the way your perfume was the best thing that she had ever smelled.

"want me to make you something?" you questioned suddenly. "i bet that i can make you something that you'll actually like, and it won't be coffee."

ellie nodded immediately, but her words conflicted her. "aren't you closed?"

you shrugged, grinning at the girl standing opposite of you. "it's not a big deal. plus, it gets creepy at night. it'll be more fun closing up with some company."

ellie nodded once more, and she would absolutely stay for every single closing shift you ever had if you wanted her to.

you paced back and forth a bit, pulling out some supplies and flipping on some machines.

"what kind of tea do you like?" you inquired, peering over at ellie. "black? green? white? oolong?"

"the... fucking, brown kind?"

your eyebrows raised as you scanned her features, trying to determine whether or not she was joking.

ellie cracked an uneasy smile.

"do you like matcha, or do you think it tastes like grass and dirt?"

"uh-"

"right! i got it," you said decidedly, making yourself busy as ellie watched in confusion and wonder.

the tea that you made was simple, but not plain. it was earthy but not too bitter or dark, and it was a brighter flavor compared to coffee.

ellie chatted with you while you were busy, about majors and assholes on campus that drag their feet and take up entire walkways.

she was actually really easy to talk to, and funny too.

ellie was just glad that she didn't need an excuse to talk to you anymore.

"okay," you announced with bravado. "try this."

you placed the cup in front of ellie, and she hesitantly took a sip.

"it's totally fine if you hate it, there's zero pressure," you clarified.

ellie popped the lid off of the cup, smelling the tea before she took another drink. "it's actually really good," ellie enthused.

"really?" you beamed, feeling quite proud of yourself.

ellie frowned but her heart soared. it was, to ellie's taste, the perfect drink.

"really," ellie confirmed. "how much do i owe?"

you swatted her away, smiling slyly. "consider it your tenth."

ellie faked a gasp. "is that allowed?"

"for you, yeah." you thought for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip. "but will you please bring your reward card back sometime so that i can stamp it? i bought a bunch of cute stamps and i don't really get to use them 'cause no one ever-"

"absolutely," ellie replied seriously, eyes flicking over your face. this would possibly, definitely, be her best fucking semester yet. ever.

and her favorite cafe. and her favorite drink.

and her favorite barista.

ellie stayed with you while you finished closing, which was sweet.

together you made plans to go to the vinyl shop, after ellie asked if she could ever see you when you weren't on the clock.

you made ellie another tea for the road, but you spent extra time decorating the cup with frilly flowers, little animal characters, and ellie's name in your very best handwriting.

ellie would hold on to that cup, too.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams college au #ellie tlou x reader

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yoonmetogether · 3 days ago

Text

Part 1 – Play Nice

pairing: bodyguard!Yoongi x CEO!fem reader - brother/mob boss!Jin, brother/mob boss!Jungkook

genre: mafia, e2l, sloooooow burn, age gap

summary: As you and your brothers finalize the plans for the next chapter in the family business, you end up discovering things that you didn't expect. And upon meeting the man assigned to guard your life, you think the universe must really have it out for you. And you don't like it. Not one bit.

warnings: angst, arranged marriage, drug addiction/rehab, family drama, parental loss, age gap, alcohol, smoking, mentions of speed racing, crime, drugs and weapons trading, night terrors, ptsd, guns, reader has a knife (and an attitude), character death

minors pls dni

wc: 19k buckle up, folks!!!

teaser l prologue l part i. play nice I interlude: strangers l part ii. I

You make a mocking face at your phone, specifically the social media app that shoves pictures in your face of your university friends opening up their architecture firm that you were meant to be a part of. Good for them, you think sourly to yourself. You would be happier if you were there with them, before your dreams and plans to settle down in one place were foiled.

It’s been almost a year since they were, right before you finished up your second to last semester of grad school when your brother called to tell you that your father had died.

Your father, who never looked you in the eye. Your father, who you spent too much of your childhood vying for his attention, especially as a teenager, around the time he started to pay more attention to Jungkook. Like when you purposely flunked classes, hoping he’d care enough to yell at you to do better, only for Jin to show up to teacher meetings in sunglasses and a mask but the disappointment wasn’t hidden underneath. Or when you went around shoplifting with your friends and got caught by mall security, wishing he’d be the one to show up and get you out of trouble. But yet again, Jin came in another disguise, and the disappointment was the same. He knew what you were doing, but didn’t have the heart to tell you it wasn’t worth it, because your father would never care. He barely acknowledged your existence.

So, at the news of his passing, you felt nothing. That was until you realized that it meant everything would fall on your brothers’ shoulders. And suddenly, you became a part of the very thing Jin worked so hard to keep you away from. Your duty and prospects became that of carrying out your father’s legacy. Before you knew it, you were set to be engaged to the son of a casino owner, so that you would take over the casino in the city your brothers ran, streets filled with crime and money fueled by Crow blood.

Kim blood. Dirty blood. Your blood.

Over the summer, you finished up your last semester, rushed through six classes in order to complete all of your credits. You honestly don’t know how you pulled it off. Three weeks before you were scheduled to graduate, Jin called, bearing the bad news that Jungkook had relapsed and was back in rehab, so you needed to come home right away. You didn’t get to walk the stage. And you certainly couldn’t give the school an address to send your diploma to. So everything was lost in the wind.

Jungkook was still in rehab by the time you got a ring shoved on your finger. None of your friends know about the engagement. Granted, none of them can even be invited to the wedding. You can’t even tell them where you’re living now.

You probably will never speak to them again.

Locking your phone and dropping it in your lap, you sigh dramatically as you look out the window at the cloudy weather, the rain that pours on the windshield, the thunder that rumbles from above. It’s been cloudy a lot lately. Or maybe the gloom that’s been sitting in your chest ever since you got married has made everything around you seem dull and gray. Even your house is decorated without color, thanks to your minimalist husband who has no taste for style. He thinks as long as things are expensive, they’re worth having even if it’s all fucking ugly. Your husband didn’t care for your opinion when he picked out the house and furniture, despite the fact that you just graduated with a minor in architecture.

You’re just glad he picked a spot in the woods, right outside of the city.

You’ve always had a talent for decorating, handing it off to the fact that you’ve moved so many times throughout your life, having to buy new furniture since you couldn’t drag it everywhere you went. You became the queen of thrifting. As long as you had your keyboard, favorite posters and plushies, you were good. You took care to make your place your home, a reflection of you and your interests in order to keep you grounded, help you feel like you belonged somewhere, even though you never stayed in one place for too long. Jin preferred it that way, felt it was safer. But it meant you couldn’t have normal friendships or relationships because they wouldn’t keep in touch if you dropped out halfway through the year to transfer to a university in an entirely different place, sometimes a country. It was very destabilizing, and it made things equally lonely, and your brother tried to make up for it by wiring you substantial amounts of money for you to use freely, but responsibly.

You never touched that money. Because how could you as a college student, who worked part-time, low wage jobs, explain the luxuries that your brother’s money could afford? The money that could pay for a few hundred thousand parking lots of the most expensive and rare cars, at least five cities worth of houses, maybe even feed a small country, much less your tuition and rent. No, you would get by on your own. Sometimes you found yourself at a poker table, often dabbling in an underground gambling ring because that’s where you could make the most of your money. (You couldn’t bring yourself to go to a casino. It would make you think of Jungkook and how much he was struggling). Who would expect a young girl who looked like she got lost on her way to a club to be any good at placing bets? It’s not your fault you grew up around brothers and friends who taught you how to play cards, molding you to have phenomenal skills in seeing through people and their tells, that they gave themselves away through their eyes. You learned how to pull off the perfect poker face, faking being naive and innocent, got them to fall in your trap and leaving them in shock when you walked away with fat wads of cash in your pocket. You guess that made you a hypocrite.

But there were times when you ran out of money and had to choose between paying a light bill or buying groceries, and you found yourself considering withdrawing from those offshore bank accounts, but you knew once you started, you wouldn’t stop. So, you would end up eating the best meals of your life in a dark and cold apartment, sitting alone with the guilt of knowing your brothers would be hurt to think you were ashamed of them.

That guilt still lingers, especially now that you’re riding in a tinted SUV, lavish seats and custom interiors, materials and technology not found in cars of the average citizen. You're well out of the bounds of average by now. You don’t feel like you belong even though your brothers are in the exact same boat.

“Is everything alright?” Mr. Han asks from the driver’s seat.

“Yeah, just..." you sigh, each breath you take doing the opposite of calming the anxiety racing in your veins. "I was supposed to be managing this architecture firm with my uni friends by now, working on biophilic design that connects spaces with nature and all that.”

You hope you're hiding your bitterness better than you think, remembering how excited you’d been to finally do something you were passionate about and how quickly the ball was dropped on that.

"That sounds interesting. Maybe you can incorporate some of that at the casino when you’re doing the renovations."

"Mm. But I don't know if my future father-in-law would be down to have a bunch of plants all over the place." Mr. Han laughs. "Well, if you're the one in charge once you’re married, I don't see why not."

You smile, grateful for his support, but you know as a female CEO among a board of directors and investors that are majority men, you will only get so much leeway. But you'll have to make do with what you have. You’re an expert at this point.

"You've done a good thing by coming back to your brothers now that things are complicated." "I just... I don’t know if I can do it. Y’know. The other part."

That part being the real reason you're getting involved at the Stay Gold casino: to take care of business that belongs to your family. Not just supervising the renovations, or overseeing the slot games, blackjack and roulette tables, but keeping a tight chokehold on the money that flows in and out of all that gambling. Money that serves as a front to what you'll be taking care of behind the scenes. Essentially, you'll be a loan shark. And that's what's been keeping you up at night, knowing what comes with ensuring certain associates make their payments in timely fashions, especially if they're buying protection. At least you’ll be putting your business degree to use. "You are just as smart and tough as your brothers, if not more. You'll be able to handle it, I have no doubts, Miss Jeon."

But I’m not like them, is what you want to say, but shouldn’t because it would be a lie.

"Thanks, Mr. Han. And you know you can call me Angel.”

"Of course. I'm always here if you need anything."

And you know he means it but it's a small comfort. Mr. Han has been your brothers’ driver for as long as you can remember, always so kind and considerate, making you wonder how a man like him ended up in a job like this. When you found out you were going to have to be chauffeured around, you weren’t exactly ecstatic because you love to drive, love the freedom that comes with it, but you figured with Mr. Han, it wouldn’t be so bad.

The SUV drives through an underground tunnel, leading into a narrow road surrounded by a forest that takes you to the gated driveway of your brothers’ extravagant mansion. Mr. Han cracks open the window to speak with the armed guard who then waves to someone you can’t see and the iron-gates buzz open. The tires slowly rumble over the cobblestone, past the grand and meticulously landscaped lawn with many guards littering the property, up to the roundabout in front of the house where there's a tall, sharp-jawed, and suited guard waiting for you. Yeong, the (devastatingly handsome) man who’s been assigned to escort you whenever you show up to meet with your brothers. He opens the door and greets you politely as another guard appears from the back of the car. This one doesn’t say anything as you get out, and you’re glad because you’ve never seen him before and you don’t like interacting with any of your brothers’ men whom you haven’t met. You remind yourself and your constricting throat that these men work for your family, and you’re safer with them around than not. But still. You hate being followed and made to feel like you can’t go anywhere by yourself.

Before you can make it to the porch, your brother enthusiastically swings open one of the large double doors, quickly beckoning you in and shutting the door. As you step in and shuck off your shoes, you notice the indiscreet way he gives your outfit a onceover, like he’s never seen you in sweats before.

“Well, you didn’t have to get all dressed up just for us.” You glare at him, lifting your middle finger.

“Shut up, Jin. Just because you sleep in your suits.”

“That’s Jinnie to you,” he says through puckered lips, squishing your cheeks. “C’mere.”

He pulls you into a strong embrace that you weakly pretend to fight off.

“Missed ya, kiddo.” Taking your coat, he kisses the top of your head, and you mumble similar sentiments into his chest with a small smile that quickly turns into a scowl when he roughly rubs his knuckles into your hair.

You push him away and scurry towards the dining room, stomach growling at the wonderful smells emanating from the kitchen. If there’s one thing you’ve missed now that you’ve moved out (again), it’s Jin’s cooking. Your brothers too of course, but that’s a given.

Jungkook is there sitting in his spot, to the left of the head of the table, already eating. It looks like today is one of his good days, and you find yourself smiling. He's eating his food and not just picking at it, the bags under his eyes aren't as prominent, and his hands are steadier than usual.

"Hey, loser. You couldn’t wait for me?" you say to Jungkook as you sit across from him.

“You’re late,” he mumbles, mouth full of food, glancing at you as he chews. “Is that why you look like shit?”

“Funny, ‘cuz I dressed up like you today.” You stick your tongue out at his glare, becoming distracted when you notice something at the corner of his bottom lip.

“What is- oh that’s a stud. I thought it was a big ass zit.”

“Piss off.” He waves your hand away when you tease poking at the metal ball.

You live for bullying your brother, even though he’s two years older than you. He was pretty mean to you as a kid, so this is just payback. Sure you were annoying, but what are little sisters for? At the end of the day, you know he’s your ride or die, just like you are for him.

“It’s cute. What’s next, a tongue piercing?”

“I draw the line at tongue piercings,” Jin intervenes, calling out from the kitchen. Him and his supersonic hearing. You snicker and Jungkook just rolls his eyes.

“Any new tats?”

He shows you the additions to his full sleeve and you marvel over the designs that he created, asking the inspiration or story behind each one, always fascinated by his talent. You have a knack for drawing yourself - you wouldn’t have the passion for architecture without it - but it’s never been on the same level as Jungkook’s. Dude can paint museum-worthy landscapes and portraits within an hour. He’s annoying like that.

When you’re done examining his arm, you sit back in your chair, snatching a morsel of his food on the way and he grabs your wrist in an attempt to stop you but instead stares at your sleeve.

“Wait, this is my jersey,” he says, ignoring the way you fight to wrestle out of his grip. “I’ve been looking for this!”

“So what? It looks better on me.” You rip your arm away and you’re already halfway out of your chair just as your brother lunges over the table to grab at the jacket. You spring up and out of the dining room, a shrill laugh escaping when you look back to see Jungkook dashing after you.

You may have grown up with him, done taekwondo and thrown loads of rounds in boxing gloves with him, even gotten him into a headlock once or twice, but now he’s built like a bus, and he could bulldoze you down in two seconds flat with no regrets. And it makes you want to scream your head off.

Sprinting into the living room, you clamber over the back of the couch, knowing Jin would kill you if he saw you with both feet on the cushions, but you’re much more worried about Jungkook closing in on you.

“Go away!” you shriek when he leaps over the couch with ease, like he’s a damn gold medalist in Living Room Olympics.

“Give me my jacket!”

“I’ve had this for like three months, how are you just now missing it?” You point out as you attempt to use the coffee table as a barricade.

“I told you to stop stealing my clothes.”

“It’s only because you have such a cool style.”

He pauses to look at you like he won’t fall for your bullshit compliment. You take this lapse as an opportunity to make a run for it into the kitchen where Jin is filling a carafe of water with fresh-cut berries, rushing to hide behind him at the counter like you used to do as a kid. Jin acts unbothered, barely noticing the way you’re gripping the back of his sweater like a lifeline, only looking over his shoulder when you make a noise as Jungkook jogs towards you.

“Cheater.”

"Yah, come on, you two," Jin admonishes as Jungkook tries to grab you, making you hurry to Jin’s right, grabbing his bicep as if his big guns will protect you.

"He started it."

"Did not!" Jungkook exclaims, and you childishly stick your tongue out at him.

“Give your brother his jacket,” Jin says in a parental tone. “But I like it.” Turning around, your oldest brother levels you with a look that mirrors the one Jungkook gave you a few minutes ago and you know not to argue anymore, begrudgingly shrugging off the jersey and throwing it at your brother who catches it with a victorious smile.

“Come on, kids, let’s go eat,” Jin says as he picks up the carafe and three glasses.

Both hands on your back, Jungkook pushes you and you stumble forward.

“Ow, don’t push me. Jinnie!”

“Big baby," Jungkook mumbles through his teeth.

“Big bitch," you fire back.

Jin clicks his tongue and mutters something under his breath, something about how is it that he has two siblings in their mid-20s who still act like children. And it is pretty interesting, considering you and Jungkook are about to assume control of the fucking mafia. But it’s been years since you’ve played around with your brother, and now that he’s about to take over for Jin, who knows if you’ll ever be able to do this again. The thought creates a bit of a hole in your heart, like digging a grave for something that isn’t gone yet.

Once Jin turns his back, leading the way into the dining room, you and Jungkook exchange various gestures that all silently mean “fuck you.” Jin shoots a knowing glare over his shoulder that makes you both hide your offensive hands behind your backs, forcing yourselves not to laugh.

“Are you two ever going to grow up?”

“No,” you both answer simultaneously. Jin huffs and looks between you two with a shake of his head.

“Sit down and eat before the food that I put my blood, sweat, and tears into gets cold.”

You and Jungkook share an eyeroll at Jin’s drama, digging in so he won’t try some dramatic monologue about cooking.

"So, how are you doing?" Jin asks you a few minutes into the meal. "Fine," you shrug, too focused on the food to give a more complex answer.

"You’re all settled in at the house?"

“Mhmm,” you hum indifferently, feeling your appetite slowly start to slip away. You were hoping you could have a nice, normal night with your brothers, pretending that you aren’t dreading going back to the house, to a fiancé you know next to nothing about and all of the work and unpacked boxes you have waiting in your wing of that big ass, bland ass house.

“How are you two getting along?” Internally sighing, your shoulders deflate.

“He’s not horrible, I guess. But he’s just… I don’t know. Boring. And lame. He thinks his tattoos make him look cool.” You glance at Jungkook and gesture to his sleeve.

“Which is something the two of you have in common.” Jungkook’s lip curls and he points his chopsticks at you and flinches. You blow him a kiss in return that you change to a middle finger.

“He also acts like he’s never been to the grocery store. And I very seriously doubt he can tie his own shoes. His butler does pretty much everything for him.” Just the word ‘butler’ makes you want to throw up, not to mention the fact that you’re about to marry a guy who needs one.

“But things are going okay?” Jin asks just as you shove more food in your mouth. Can’t a girl just eat?

“What is this, twenty questions?”

“I’m just checking in.”

“Okay, but can we not do this right now? Please.” You ignore the way your brothers share a look.

“If things aren’t going well, you need to tell us.”

“Things are going as well as they can for an arranged marriage. We might live on opposite ends of the house, but we’re cordial. You’re not really expecting me to actually like this whole situation, right?” Jin regards you carefully.

“No, but you do need to make sure it all works out.”

Suddenly, you've completely lost your appetite. You scowl and drop your silverware, sitting back in your chair with your arms crossed, refusing to look at them both staring at you.

“God, Jin. I agreed to marry him, didn’t I? Picked up my entire fucking life to come back here and help out even though you promised-” You point harshly at Jin who looks at you with a small frown as his fingers rub on the edge of a napkin. You know it’s not his fault but damn, it hurts that he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

“That I would never have to do that. What more do you want? An heir or something?”

They both wince. “No, of course not.”

“Then lay off my ass about it. I’m fine, okay? Don’t be a helicopter.” “Honey, I just want to make sure he’s treating you right.”

“What does it matter? I’m stuck with him either way. Besides, I can take care of myself.”

“Of course you can. I’m only-” But you don’t want to hear anymore. With a grimace, you pick up your plate of unfinished food, scoot back your chair and stand up to head into the kitchen.

Jin leans forward with a heavy sigh, steepling his fingers, resting his forehead against them and closing his eyes.

"Way to go, hyung," you hear Jungkook mumble as you storm out of the dining room.

Stewing, you put away your leftovers and start to clean up the counters, knowing you’re the one being dramatic now but you can’t help it. This is supposed to be your safeplace, here with your brothers, especially since time with all three of you together is running out. Right now, you want to forget about all your responsibilities, all the things you have to step up to that you never imagined doing, and you wish your brothers would just go along with it. But they’re more realistic than you, it seems.

You hear dishes clink in the dining room, and soon you’re joined by your brothers, all silently working to clean up the kitchen. You pay no mind to their attempts at getting you to lighten up by nudging your shoulders, flicking water in your direction, and taking over the dish scrubbing, and it isn’t until Jin shoves a glass of sparkling cider in your hands just as you try to make an escape to the living room do you lose your resolve.

“I’m sorry, kiddo. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Jin says as he and Jungkook corral you towards the couch.

You huff, fingers rolling on the stem of the glass, swirling the red content inside, and sit on the plush cushion, your brothers on either side of you.

“I’m not. Just- I can’t remember the last time all three of us have been in one place and I didn’t want to talk about any outside stuff. I just wanted to pretend that things are how they used to be. Because what if-” A lump forms in your throat.

“What if this is actually the last time?” Jin reaches forward and grabs your hand, a serious line knitted through his eyebrows.

“It won’t be. I promise.” “You’ve always told us to never make promises.”

“Well, I made the rules so I can change them. I am going to come back,” he says, squeezing your hand. “I don’t know when and I don’t know how, but-”

“You know something’s starting right now? Okay, Ariel,” Jungkook cuts in, grinning when you snort and Jin shoots him a scowl, leaning over to roughly ruffle his hair. You laugh at Jungkook’s dirty look when he thinks Jin just messed up his hair and Jin tries to fix it but ends up making it worse and a small hand-slapping fight ensues. This is what you’ll miss. This dynamic, where no matter how hard you all try, you can never be serious.

“Do you think we can go on a trip?” you ask out of the blue, casted by a nostalgic wave longing for memories that make you feel normal.

“Y'know, to the cabin? Just for a couple of days.” Jin smiles, but it’s small. Jungkook doesn’t look at either of you.

Ever since you can remember, any spare time Jin had, he whisked you and Jungkook away to a cabin somewhere in the mountains, never going to the same spot twice. You waited for the days that Jin would show up at the boarding school, make up some excuse to get you both out and drive up to a cabin where he would let you both run wild. In the woods was where you learned how to ride your bike and climb a tree, legs swinging from a branch with Jin standing underneath you, arms held out like you’d fall any second. You were too busy yelling at Jungkook to stop throwing sticks and leaves at you from a few branches above. A cool summer sunset by a river was where you caught your first fish that Jungkook ended up chasing you around with for a good five minutes. You screamed at the top of your lungs, Jungkook cackled maniacally, and Jin did his best not to laugh, only grabbing the fish out of his brother’s hands once you began to run around him like a maypole. Later, you got your revenge by shoving the chopped fish head in his face after Jin started cooking. Jungkook cried all throughout dinner and, in your stubbornness, you refused to apologize so Jin made you hold hands for the remainder of the night until one of you caved.

As you got older and Jin got busier, he would allow you to make plans with your friends to go to a cabin in a discreet location, whether that was in the woods or by the beach. You loved your friends, but you always found yourself missing Jin, wishing he was there to cook and make lame dad jokes, play guitar by a fire he started and act out ridiculous stories until you and Jungkook were rolling on the ground with stomachs that ached from laughing so much.

It wasn’t until you were much older that you realized those trips to the cabin were the only times the three of you spent together where Jin wasn’t constantly looking over his shoulder. Sometimes though, he wouldn’t speak for a while, a blank yet morose energy surrounding him that he could only shake himself out of if you and Jungkook poked and prodded him enough. In the woods, he never wore a mask or sunglasses or a variety of hats like he did when he came to pick you up from school. Later down the line, Jungkook had to do that too and that’s when everything started to change. You could no longer see each other unless the location and meeting times were planned in advance, and there were always some men in suits, sunglasses, and dark coats with wires hanging out of their ears accompanying you.

A year after Jungkook graduated from secondary school was when things fell apart. Jin made you promise to never speak about either of them to anyone, and helped you come up with a pseudonym. By the time he shipped you off to study abroad once you started university, you never used your real name and neither did they. From then on, you only spoke to your brothers on the phone, one that you had to pick up at a convenience store and dispose of once you were done. The calls were typically short - Jin asking if you were doing well in school, if you ate enough, had enough money. You rarely spoke with Jungkook, as he spent a lot of time going in and out of rehab, and when he wasn’t doing that, he was learning the family business with Jin. You missed him, your partner in crime, and you wished you could take him with you, keep him away from your father so maybe he could have a chance at healing, but that wasn’t in the cards. Jin explained time and time again, that this was how things had to be. He may have raised both of you, been the reason you were alive and thriving, but he had no control over the circumstances at home. You couldn’t go back, he wouldn’t let you, and for a while, you thought you’d never see your brothers again.

(There was a time when you did go back, but they never knew about it. When you were feeling homesick, you took a ferry to Jeju to visit the beach where you spent a few summers with your brother and your friends. You spent a few days reminiscing about old times, old friends. It was nice to get away, to feel something familiar for a moment, hang on to memories that you would give anything to relive. But you don’t like to think about that trip anymore. And sometimes you wish you’d never gone back.)

Now you just want to go to the cabin to cling onto the past, of how things used to be, because you know nothing will ever again be the same.

"We can't, Angel. I'm sorry. I have to leave in a few days." And just like that, the wave crashes onto the shores of despair.

“What? You said you had until next month.” Your brothers share another look, another tell that they’ve been keeping you out of the loop of something.

“I do, but I think it’s best to leave earlier so it won’t be glaringly obvious that I got tipped on my arrest warrant.”

“Yeah, probably,” you agree dejectedly. “It was just hard not being home all this time, so I wanted us to hang out. I guess I like you guys or something. Weird, right?” “Totally. ‘Cause we hate you,” Jungkook teases. You scoff and grab a pillow to whack him with over Jin’s head. Jin laughs and lets you get in a few hits before tugging the throw out of your hand, whacking the side of your head, and tossing it on the other end of the couch out of reach.

Silence sits between you for a few moments until Jungkook stands, tugs you up on your feet, and shoves his phone into your hands.

He tries to teach you dance moves from Tik Tok trends, laughing a little too hard when you mess up, and Jin ultimately has to break up a small wrestling match. After you finish filming one video that will forever sit in drafts, Jin gets out the game console and wipes the floor with you and Jungkook on Super Mario. He brags loudly, enticing you both to tackle him, but despite your conjoined efforts, he somehow gets you and Jungkook into simultaneous headlocks, not letting go until you profess that he’s the unmatched master of Mario.

Jungkook then puts on his favorite movie, to which you and Jin stifle groans as you’re made to watch Iron Man for what has to be the millionth time. Jungkook just claps giddily when the Avengers theme song blares through the speakers and neither of you can deny this small happiness. It’s good to see him smile. But throughout the movie, you shoot him small glances out of your periphery when you notice him biting his nails and you know he’s zoned out, and that it’s not a good place where his mind wandered off to. You gently grab his hand and push it down, and he goes to cross his arms like he’s ashamed, but you keep hold of his hand, folding them together and resting them between you. Giving your hand a squeeze, he offers you a tiny smile and goes back to fully engage with the movie.

When the credits roll, you tease Jin for immediately yawning and stretching as he announces he’s turning in. You ask Jungkook if he’s up for a game of Overwatch that he starts up without a word and passes you a console.

After a few minutes of playing, Jin emerges from the kitchen with a couple bowls of snacks and bottles of your favorite drinks that he sets down in front of you on the carpet. You both thank him in unison without taking your attention off the game and he huffs an endeared laugh.

“Don’t stay up too late,” Jin murmurs from behind you both, ruffling your hair. “Crazy kids.”

“Night, grandpa,” you smirk, laughing when Jin pushes your head.

He goes upstairs and leaves you to play the game. But every now and then, you glance over to Jungkook, wanting to check in on him. It’s been a minute since you've had a one-on-one.

“You look like you’re doing good.”

“I’m trying,” he mumbles a bit stiffly, eyes unmoving from the screen, and you take in his tense expression.

“That’s all that matters, bro.” You lightly punch his bicep, and he playfully tips sideways. “You know you can talk to me anytime.”

“Yeah.” It doesn’t seem like he wants to, at least not about certain things, but you need him to know that of all the things that are changing, the fact that you’re his kid sister who he can lean on will stay the same.

“I wish I had been home more often,” you say tentatively. “I know Jin couldn’t always be around.”

He shrugs, nose scrunching. “S’alright, I wasn’t alone. D was there.”

You’ve heard about D. How he had Jungkook’s back in a jail fight a few years ago when Jungkook had a habit of lashing out and starting fights to prove he was tough. Which he was but that didn’t matter if he was outnumbered. When he was booked for a DUI (riding on his motorcycle half-drunk like a dummy) and forced to go through withdrawal, it increased his violent tendencies. After accusing a burly man twice his size for looking at him the wrong way, he found himself getting beat up on by three grown felons in the middle of the yard. He would’ve ended up with a cracked skull if it wasn’t for D. And from then on, he became your brother’s guardian angel of sorts and eventually began working for them.

“You’ll meet him tomorrow at dinner.” You hum, mildly disinterested.

Joy. Spending an evening with your brothers’ capos and guards is just how you wanted to enjoy your last weekend with the both of them. Not.

“And, um, we workout at the boxing club every Friday. Maybe you could join us.”

You look over at him incredulously. There was a time when your brother acted like you tagging along with his friends was a punishment worse than hell.

“You mean you want me to box with you?” He shrugs.

“Gotta make sure you can still fight.”

You roll your eyes. Of course you can still fight. You’ve just been able to get out of precarious situations before you had the need to throw hands. For the most part. That’s the difference between you and your brother - he goes looking for trouble while you do your best to avoid it. But neither of you will be backed into a corner and made to stay there. You won’t go down easy.

“So you down?”

“I won’t be getting in the way of boy time with D?” Smiling, he shakes his head.

“Nah. But you could stand to learn a thing or two from him; he’s a damn good fighter.”

“Better than you?”

“No one’s better than me,” he smirks.

“I guess I’ll have to see for myself.” He chuckles and fakes a slow punch on the side of your head.

“You still have that knife I gave you a few years ago?” You think for a moment. Right before you went abroad for college, Jungkook gave you the blade he carried with him everywhere, one that was sheathed in your favorite color and had a strap attached to it. You cherish it, but you’ve never had to use it. But you figure that’s about to change.

“Oh, yeah, it’s somewhere. I didn’t have a lot of time to really organize when I was packing. Why?”

“You should keep it on you from now on. Just in case.”

“You mean you’re not gonna be around to protect me, big brother?” you tease. He shoots you a little smile but when his eyes focus back on the screen, you notice him squint and nibble on his bottom lip for a second. You can’t help the feeling that he’s keeping something to himself.

“Not always.”

You frown. There was a small comfort in thinking that you could rely on him when for years you’ve been apart, but now as new circumstances arise, you don’t know if you’ll be able to see each other as much as you want to. Definitely not enough to make up for lost time.

Just as you’re about to tell him not to worry because you’re a big girl, more of an assurance to yourself, he clears his throat to change the subject again.

“D is really cool, I think you’ll like him.” You offer a mostly sincere smile, thinking to yourself that it sounds as if your brother is trying to sell you on D’s character. You don’t think you’ll care much for it, since he’s Jungkook’s security and all and you won’t be interacting with him much. But you’ll try if it means something to your brother.

“If he’s anything like you, then I doubt it.” His head snaps in your direction and in a fraction of a second, his arm hooks around your neck and pulls you into him, forcing your face into his shoulder so you can’t see a thing.

You fight your way out of his headlock, exclaiming when you notice that he’s beating your ass on the game, and lean on your elbow to press your foot on his cheek in an attempt to distract him, but he only laughs. You complain and cuss him out as he starts winning and reach over to wrestle the controller out of his hands. As you tussle loudly, Jin’s upstairs bedroom door opens and he calls down the hall,

“Keep it down! I need my beauty sleep!”

“You sure do!” Jungkook shouts back, sending you both in a fit of giggles when you hear his door slam shut loudly in response. You come to a truce, if only to save yourselves from facing a grumpy Jin in the morning.

You play and talk into the wee hours of the sunrise, until you slump next to each other and pass out, bellies full and faces covered with evidence of Jin’s snacks that you demolished.

The sky is a gray-blue hue when you’re stirred by your brother talking in his sleep and his incoherent mumbling makes you coo. But just as you go to cover him up with a blanket, he yells out nonsensically, leg kicking over a near empty bottle and sending the rest of the contents into the carpet. His arm shoots up into the air and panic begins to set in when he thrashes around on the floor. After getting the dishes and consoles out of the way, you run up the stairs to Jin’s room, barging in without knocking so you can quickly wake him up. Shaking his shoulder, you stutter out his name and he groans upon being disturbed.

“God, what-” “He’s having a night terror.” Without a second missed, Jin flings himself out of bed and races out of his room and down the stairs, with you following close behind.

Once back in the living room, Jin rushes to Jungkook’s side, who’s now flailing his limbs and shouting but still fast asleep. You watch as your oldest brother gets on his knees, not hesitating to grab Jungkook’s arms, pin them to his abdomen so he can pull him up and against his chest, all while calling his name to try and wake him. Jungkook’s eyes fly open with a gasp and his body reacts violently against Jin’s who almost ends up with an elbow in the chin. But Jin is an expert at handling Jungkook’s episodes, and he knows just what to do to keep them both safe while he gets him to calm down.

“Shh, bunny,” Jin hushes as Jungkook’s body fights him, rubbing his chest and shoulders to soothe. “It’s okay. I’m here, your sister’s here, you’re alright.”

There are visible tears streaming down your brother’s face and you have to sit on the step and cover your mouth with your hand to stop yourself from crying. It hurts so fucking bad to see him this way. It’s been years since the last time you’ve witnessed this, but you know he’s had many in between that Jin has been around for.

“Honey,” Jin calls to you softly above Jungkook’s sobs. “Go up to my bathroom and get out the lock box that’s under the sink. His medicine’s in there. Grab my wallet too, on the dresser.”

With a solemn nod, you stand and turn around as Jungkook slings an arm over Jin’s shoulder to hide in his neck, and your foot freezes mid-step when you hear him loudly wail again and Jin hushes him, rubs his back, and you hurry up the stairs again to grab what you hope will let Jungkook get some rest, some escape, some peace. You come back down with the lockbox and wallet to find Jin sitting on the couch, Jungkook curled up under a blanket with his head in Jin’s lap, chest heaving as he lays on his side. You approach them slowly, and Jin quietly instructs you to get out a small key from his wallet to open the lockbox, which carries Jungkook’s medicine that helps with his anxiety and parasomnia. You head into the kitchen to grab a glass of water while Jin encourages Jungkook to sit up and by the time you return, he seems to be breathing a little easier. After he drinks down a pill, he lays back down and you hope he’ll be able to sleep without another disruption.

You and Jin watch him for a few moments, and when it finally seems that he’s settled, you share a collective sigh of relief. But still, you’re worried. It scares you to see him that way.

“When was the last time this happened?” Jin looks so tired as he tries not to frown.

“More frequently now that you’re back home. Usually he does better when you’re around but. He feels bad that you’re doing this. He thinks if it weren’t for him and everything that happened, you could’ve stayed abroad and made a life for yourself.”

It’s true. You would never say it to their faces, but it is the truth.

“But… then I would never see you guys again.” Your throat tightens.

“And now that you’re leaving,” you sniff, tears threatening to prick your waterline. “I don’t want him to be alone.”

In the dim light, Jin beckons you over, soft affection in his eyes, and you squeeze in between him and the end of the couch. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and kisses the top of your head.

“You’re a good kid, honey. Even though I never wanted this for you, for either of you, I feel better knowing that you’re going to look out for each other.”

“Me too, Jinnie.”

He pats your arm and you sit quietly for a few minutes with your head on his shoulder, starting to feel sleepy again, safe and assured by Jin’s embrace. Jungkook is snoring now, the meds must’ve kicked in. He won’t talk about this in the morning, and neither of you will ask him to.

"And, about Jay,” your eyes blink open at his gentle tone. “I was thinking maybe what we can do is send him out on business trips so he's not around as much.”

You smile, arm curling around his thick bicep. “Thanks, Jinnie.”

“Just play nice, okay? It’ll all work out.”

You nod, too tired to let that potential burden add to your stress. Pretending to be completely fine with the engagement is the least of your worries right now.

The venue that Jin chose to host the small get-together of you and his men sits on the private top floor of one of the many skyscrapers he owns that you’ve had dreams of designing. Yeong walks at a comfortable distance behind you, quiet but gentlemanly. Stoic, which seems to be a uniform demeanor among your brothers’ men, one Jin expects you to replicate. You know that’s really your father’s expectation, but he’s gone. You would find it difficult to respect him anyway.

Striding into the dining hall, you pay no mind to all of his henchmen in the room, only giving focus to the one who stands out among them all, and not just because of his looming height and broad shoulders. Nor are you intimidated by the commandeering authority that follows him wherever he goes.

“Jin!” you call, making all heads turn to you but you act as if no one but your brother is here. He twists to face you with that shining smile of his that you know is reserved for a select few.

When you walk over to the table, air hazy with cigar smoke, liquor, and low conversation, you keep your expression polite despite the heat that spreads through you when all eyes fall on you. Yeong is close behind and reaches out for a chair once you approach the head of the table, greeting your brother who stands up from his proverbial throne to welcome you.

“Hey, sis. You look nice,” he says warmly, leaning in to welcome you into your seat and you smile, thanking Yeong who pushes in your chair once you sit. Just as you do, Jin leans in to whisper in your ear,

“You’ve got to get used to not using real names here, Angel.” Pulling away, you cringe and mouth your apology that he dismisses with a singular nod.

“Uh, where’s bro? He always gives me shit for being late.” Jin smiles as he sits back down.

“He’s on his way. He was at the gym with D.”

You nod and take a look around the room, noticing that you’re the only woman. Since your brother is here, you’re not worried, but it does feel suffocating. Is this how it’s always going to be from now on?

“How you doin’, Angel,” a deep voice says on your right, and your demeanor brightens when you glance over to see Namjoon pulling out the chair next to you.

“Oh, hey, Moon! Aren’t you sick of me by now?” You tease as he sits down, heart blipping at the beautiful smile on his face. You’ve been working with him these past couple of months, Namjoon preparing and training you for your role at the casino. Extremely intelligent and well-versed, he’s not your brother’s right-hand man for no reason. He knows all of the Crow’s business dealings like the back of his hand, and you feel confident having someone like him to guide you. That paired with his easy-going and wholesome persona, and the fact that you could chat with him about books and music for hours, you can’t deny your itty bitty crush on him. If only you weren’t engaged and he didn’t have a girlfriend. At least one of you is in a happy relationship.

“Of you? Never.” You ignore the mild warmth in your cheeks and playfully nudge him with your elbow. Damn him and his natural charisma.

“So, are you ready for next week?” Ugh. You don’t like the anchor of dread that sinks in your gut at the thought of finally becoming an official member of the family business.

“No,” you mumble because there’s no reason to lie to Namjoon.

“Oh, come on. Yes, you are.” Your palms start to sweat and you put the menu down so as to not ruin it.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready,” you say quietly, stealing a glance at Jin to make sure he’s not listening, glad he’s too busy accepting a top-off on his drink.

“You have a mentor as amazing and smart as me, you’re more than ready.” You roll your eyes at his cheeky grin.

“You’ve been hanging around Jin too much,” you mutter and he laughs.

“Well, just know that no matter what, I’ll be right there with you so you don’t have to worry.” That fact makes you breathe a little easier, but there’s still a layer of anxiety underneath your skin. Just then, a slender, unfamiliar man walks in and heads straight for Jin who does a double take, immediately holding out a welcoming handshake that lingers a little too long once the man accepts.

“Who’s that?”

“Jung,” Namjoon answers with a single glance. You hold up your menu to hide your face as you whisper,

“Agent Jung?” He nods and turns his cheek to utter another reminder.

“Just be careful where you say that.”

Right. You never know who could be listening, so it’s probably not a good idea to mention the man’s real identity in all this. The CIA agent posing as an informant, but really he’s in cahoots with your brothers, covering up their dirty tracks with the occasional bribe of public officials.

“He goes by Hope, but close friends call him Hobi. You could probably get away with calling him that.”

“What’s he doing here?” You can’t help but watch closely the way your brother engages with Hope. His body language is rigid and fidgety, like he’s nervous, but his eyes are soft and wide. Small indications that there’s definitely something going on between the two of them and you’re excited to gossip about it with Jungkook. Because you know all too well how good Jin is at lying.

“Well, your brother wanted you both to be acquainted because the feds might take an interest in you once you take over the casino. He’ll come back to work undercover again if that happens.”

You still as realization takes over, muscles in your face hardening as your heart does a somersault.

“Is that the big secret?”

“What?”

“They’ve been keeping something from me.”

“Um, I’m- I don’t know,” he says in an uneven cadence, and, looking over at him, you notice a slight purse of his lips and realize he’s a terrible liar.

You just got here, but you already need a breather. The cigar smoke isn’t helping either, so you excuse yourself to the bathroom to get some fresh air.

As you rise, Yeong habitually appears next to you, but you place a soft hand on his shoulder, shaking your head to tell him it’s not necessary to escort you out. You internally scream when he looks over at your brother, as if needing his permission to let you go without accompaniment. Jin waves two fingers with a nod, silently dismissing Yeong’s duty and you try not to let that small interaction visibly bother you as you turn away from the table.

The bathroom is empty, thank god, but now you just feel isolated. Especially when you pull out your phone, eager to call up one of your friends and vent, but even if they might pick up despite being on another part of the hemisphere, there’s no way you could tell them anything.

You blink and a face you haven’t seen in a long time spawns in the forefront of your mind, heart sinking when you know he would be the one to call at a time like this but you haven’t spoken to him in years. Not since he had a falling out with your brother and left town shortly after without a word, cutting you deep because you thought you were more important to him than that. Even though it hurt, you understood why he left the way he did. You just sometimes wish he could’ve taken you with him.

With no one to call and nowhere else to go, you finish up in the bathroom with a deep breath and a practiced smile in the mirror, rolling your eyes at yourself and heading for the door with a huff at how fake you look.

When you emerge, your attention is buried in your phone, and you end up bumping into someone in the hallway.

“Oh, sorry,” you blurt, feeling two hands hover on your shoulders when you stumble back from being caught off guard. You don’t look up right away, gauging from the black fitted suit and long trench coat that this is one of your brother’s men.

“No, my fault,” he says and the gravelly timbre in his voice tickles a part of your brain. Normally you’re good at reading people, sometimes from just their aura, but there’s something about him that you can’t quite place. So you keep your head down.

“Excuse me, ma’am.”

Ma’am? Yeah, he definitely works for your brothers. Everyone who knows who they are, calls them ‘boss’ or ‘sir’ and as their sister, you deserve the same title and respect that comes with it. Another thing you’ll have to get used to. But it still fills you with an odd feeling that you don’t really like, and you excuse yourself, not waiting for him to step out of the way so you can head back to the dining room. As you pass him, you catch the earthy musk of his cologne mixed with underlying traces of mint and something woody and it makes you involuntarily look over your shoulder to see what kind of man wears such a scent, only to find that he’s not there. He disappeared just as quietly as he’d approached.

Back in the room, you smile upon seeing Jungkook sitting to the right of your brother, and you can’t help but go up behind him, playfully smack the back of his head with your clutch, and sit beside him like nothing happened.

“You took my seat,” you say, feeling his glare on you.

“Children,” Jin grits through a smile just as Jungkook opens his mouth to argue. “Let’s not do this in front of company.”

Jungkook huffs in annoyance and opts to pinch your leg under the table, and you hold back a squeal, not daring to retaliate when Jin glares at the two of you over the brim of his glass.

As you turn your attention to the menu, you notice in your periphery Jungkook looking over his left shoulder, lifting his hand to someone behind him. When you look back as well, your heart palpitates at the sight of a tall, lithe man with black hair that reaches his neck, slicked behind his ears, and eyes hidden by tinted shades striding towards the table.

“Hey, D,” Jin says to the man as he steps up next to him. “Good to see you.”

So, this is the infamous D.

“Boss,” he acknowledges, and turns to Jungkook to tap his bicep with the back of his hand. “Sorry I brought him late.”

“No worries, you’re just in time to order. Take a seat.” D nods and you watch him slightly lift his chin over Jungkook’s head, no doubt taking a glance at you that lasts a mere second before moving to walk behind your brother and consequently you. Time seems to freeze as he starts to pass you, and although you can’t see his eyes, you feel them lock on you, and your heart does gymnastics before stopping completely.

No way. No fucking way. The man who stands above you can’t be the same man who you shared a night with, years ago. A night that creeps back into your memory after you think you’ve forgotten. And a face that haunts your dreams and makes you miss something you never really had. At least, not long enough to count for something.

As he passes, you catch the smell of the cologne that matches exactly to the scent of the man you bumped into in the hallway. Nausea creeps up from the pit of your stomach and you quickly look away, but to your absolute horror, your brother stops him in his tracks right beside you.

“Oh, D. Meet our sister, Angel.” On your right, he swivels on his heel and your breath catches in your throat when he tips towards you in a respectful bow.

“Good to meet you.” He holds out his hand to offer a kind greeting, but it only makes you sick. You swallow thickly, wanting nothing more than to ignore his offering, but you know you can’t purposely be rude, especially not in front of Jin. You have to be polite to him, no matter how much it might kill you, because you can’t let your brothers catch onto something that shouldn’t be there. And after years of playing poker, you’ve learned how to perfect hiding how you really feel. For the most part.

So, swallowing your rage, you muster the courage to turn in your seat to face him, plastering on the fakest smile you can manage and reach out to roughly grab his hand, breath catching in your lungs at the lightning you feel at his warm, soft but slightly calloused touch because you remember them so, so well.

Sometimes in your loneliest, darkest moments, you close your eyes and conjure up the memories of the way those hands once ran over every inch of your body, just like those lips, those eyes, and other parts of him that graced you and lit up your skin, sunk into your bones in a way that made you ache. And that ache lasted, in your heart, in your gut, in between your legs ever since that morning when you woke up expecting to see him next to you, only to find cold and empty sheets. Like he was never there. And you found yourself wishing you could rip out the ghost of his touch from beneath your skin, but it was practically etched into your soul, like it was meant to be there forever.

“Pleasure,” you say through a sickly-sweet smile, wishing you could see beyond his shades for any sign that he knows who you are, or if he’s just forgotten you. It has been three years after all. You catch a light, but noticeable scar slashed vertically on his right eye, partially hidden by his dark glasses. Your heart pangs when you don’t remember that being there the last time you saw him, but he hurt you, intensely, and now he’s acting like he doesn’t know you so fuck him. The sight of that scar compels you to look down at his hand clasped in yours and, in a flash, turn it sideways so you can see the diagonal scar that starts at his knuckles and ends by his wrist, which you do remember. You let go of his hand as if it scalded you and turn your attention back to the table, your mind and pulse racing at this feeling of yet another situation being out of your control. You want to tell your brothers right now about everything, get him off your back and out of your life, but knowing what consequences he would face stops you. He’s lucky Jungkook considers him a friend. Because otherwise, you’d have him thrown into the bottom of the Han river.

Jin calls for rounds of wine and whiskey as the group of men engage in small talk, and you appreciate your brothers who include you as much as possible. You hear conversations of Jin asking Namjoon how it’s going with your onboarding for the casino, and you do your best to contribute, but it’s hard to do it through the static going on in your head that you can’t quell, brought on by the man sitting across the table a few seats down, next to Hope who’s chatting his ear off. He has not looked your way once despite your many stolen and partially involuntary glances, only adding fire to the flame.

Two hours pass for everyone to finish off their meal, drinks, and conversation about work and other things that you tune out. Eventually, Jin starts to hint that he’s ready for the dinner to come to an end, and you sit quietly as he thanks his friends for coming. They all bid their goodbyes and most offer handshakes and arm taps as they wish him well. When they turn to go, Jin’s eyes linger on their backs until the next friend comes up.

As you wait for your brother to end the night for you as well, all who’s left is D, Namjoon and Hope, and they move closer to the head of the table once the rest of the room files out. A pit settles in your gut when D sits directly across from you. Those goddamn shades. You can’t even tell if he’s looking at you.

“Thank you all for staying after,” Jin says after he returns to his chair, knocking back the last of his drink. He gestures to the table. But you speak before he can continue, pretending to check your manicure when Jin looks over, so he doesn't catch the way you were just staring down the man across from you.

“Isn’t it rude to wear sunglasses inside?” You ask your brother. “I thought you were all about respect.”

Jungkook nudges you and whispers behind his hand, “Why are you being a dick?”

You don’t respond, acting as if you didn’t hear him. Because you can’t answer that. Jin sighs and there’s a subtle squint of his eyes at you before he gestures to the man beside him.

“D, if you wouldn’t mind.”

D says nothing (you want to scream that’s not his real name but you’re not sure if your brothers even know that) and raises his hands to remove the sunglasses, expression remaining blank. Once they’re folded and slipped into the inside pocket of his blazer, he finally lifts his bare gaze to you, scar on full display, and your heart slams in your chest. Because those eyes that seem to look right through you, are far too cold and vacant, void of everything that made you once believe you had a shot at something real.

“So, since you’re starting at the casino next week, I want to discuss security. I’m assigning you new detail.” You look at him with a puzzled expression.

“What's wrong with the team there?”

“I'm talking about your personal guard." Your eyebrows furrow. So this is what your brothers have actually been hiding from you.

“Isn’t that Yeong’s job?”

“He doesn’t have enough experience to handle your protection around the clock.” “Around the clock? You’re joking.”

“I’m not."

You huff and cross your arms. “And if I don’t agree?”

“That’s not an option.”

“Fine. Who did you hire to basically stalk me?”

“D will take on as your guard and driver.”

Ha. Haha. This isn’t real. What kind of joke is the universe playing on you? And why are you the punchline?

You turn to Jungkook. “Isn’t he your security?”

“Yes,” Jin answers. “But since you’re going to be dealing with the public and crews and potential feds at the casino, D has the knowledge and experience to help with everything, so he’s being reassigned to you.”

How can it be this fucking coincidental for the man who dug a crack into your soul, filled it with light, and crushed it when he left with no warning become the new head of your security? Complete and utter bullshit.

"Angel,” Jin mutters, urging you to say something.

“Fuck this,” you spit, eyes darting to the man you speak of to see if your words affect him but when he doesn’t give anything away it only makes you angrier.

“I’m not doing it.” You stand up to head for the door, but your brother's loud, bellowing voice puts a halt to your escape.

“Yes, you are. This is not a game; you don’t have a choice.”

Your head spins. This is too much too fast. All of your control and independence is being ripped out right from under you, and you already feel weighed down by it. Seething, you glance between him and his men, and you don’t want it to look like you’re throwing a temper tantrum. You wonder if this is why your brothers chose to tell you here, in front of everyone, testing you to see if you’ll control yourself.

“I already can’t drive myself anymore, and your guards have to be up my ass when I come here. Yeong has to check in with you to make sure I’m allowed to go to the fucking bathroom alone, your dirty cop is gonna pretty much spy on me at work, and now you want this goon to follow me around everywhere?”

“Look, I know you don’t like this, but-” “No, I don’t.”

“But,” he continues sternly, glare on you growing harsher. “I don’t think you realize the calamity of the situation you’re about to be in and I have to take all the necessary precautions to ensure your safety.” “Meaning I have to be fucking babysat?” you spit with vitriol, and Jungkook puts a hand on your elbow in an attempt to pull you down a notch now that Jin’s expression is contorting into one that shows he will not entertain this conversation for much longer as your brother. Being the boss in front of you has never been something he wanted you to see, but right now you’re pushing the limits. You don’t care so you rip your arm out of Jungkook’s grip who resigns with a sigh while you keep your fiery stare on your oldest brother where there’s a likeness in his own.

“Don’t speak to me that way, Angel.”

“Don’t treat me like I’m a little kid, Jinnie,” you sneer, using his nickname un-endearingly.

“I told you about not using real names,” he booms, fist falling on the table. You don’t flinch.

“You’re one of us now, you need to start acting like it. And you’re going to start by listening to what I say and showing some respect. Otherwise, we’ll have to have an entirely different conversation, and I really don’t want us to go there.”

You’re not sure what he means by that, but you’d be stupid to fuck around and find out.

“As a woman in this business, you are much more vulnerable and at risk and it’s my job to protect you. That’s just reality. So you need to have security in place, especially by tomorrow. Am I being clear?”

You grind your teeth. “Yes.”

“Thank you.”

“Can I go home now?”

“I’m about to go over the plans for tomorrow. Sit down.”

“Please, I want to go home; I have a lot of things to do. You know I haven’t even unpacked everything yet? I’m practically sleeping in that office.”

You do your best to keep out any expletives, even though you have many to fire off, so you don’t show more disrespect, but your mild lack of control has you muttering under your breath, “No thanks to you.”

Beside you, Jungkook presses his hands together in front of his face like a prayer while Jin shakes his head, eyes closing, and rubs a hand over his forehead like you’re giving him a migraine.

“I’ll get you some help, I’ll get whatever you need. But right now, I need you to stay so we can talk everything out because shit is about to get real. Please sit down.”

You do so with extreme reluctance, the concoction of conflicted emotions swirling in your chest making it increasingly difficult to pay attention to any of what he says. As parts of your mind and body drift in and out of your subconscious, you’re startled out of a staring contest with the edge of the table by Jungkook nudging your shoulder. Relaxing your jaw that was painfully clenched, you lift your head to notice that all eyes are on you, minus one particular pair.

“Sorry, what?”

Jin sighs and gestures to the other side of the table. “Hope was asking if you’d be willing to meet with him in a couple of weeks to check if you have any problems to report.”

“Sure, whatever. I mean, I don’t have a choice either way, right?” you mutter, throwing your brother's words back in his face. You feel Jin’s eyes burning a hole in the side of your face and you know you’ll get an earful from him later.

You glance over to see Hope looking at you with a half-smile and there’s a bit of guilt at how you just came across. You really want to disappear.

“Is that all? May I be excused now?” you ask Jin tersely. He rubs a hand over his mouth like he’s preventing himself from further calling you out. Keeping his stare locked with yours, he raises a dismissive hand.

“D, can you escort her down to the garage? Mr. Han will drive her home.” You close your eyes in relief. “And exchange information on the way; you’ll be picking her up tomorrow evening.”

“Yes, boss.”

You turn around before he stands up, making a beeline for the door because you’re boiling up like a tea kettle. The room seems to be chasing you, closing in on you, like a hand around your throat that you can’t fight off. By the hairs raised on the back of your neck, you can tell he’s coming up behind you so you pick up the pace, jamming your finger into the down button on the elevator. You silently thank it when it only takes a few seconds to arrive, the one thing on your side tonight, so that you can step in before he reaches you. You rapidly press the close button, your eyes narrowed in the harshest glare at his face as he sticks out his hand but he’s too late, the doors rumble shut, sealing him out.

Alone in the elevator, there’s so much going through your mind that it hurts to think. So many emotions and feelings are swirling in your chest that you have no idea where to start to pick apart and process. All you know is that you want to get as far away from him as possible. How the tables have turned.

It’s freezing down in the garage, and Mr. Han has yet to arrive, much to your chagrin. The bubbling beneath the surface of your skin grows to a rage when you hear leather shoes pad onto the concrete.

“Angel-”

Oh, hell no! He doesn’t get to be casual. He doesn’t get to say your name. It’s not your real one, but it was real to him.

You twist around. “Don’t be informal."

Expression unchanged, he apologizes and corrects himself then steps forward with a hand held out, carrying your coat that you forgot upstairs.

You give it a side glance and snatch it away, tucking it under your crossed arms, because you prefer to be stubborn and cold. You refuse to face him, even when he clears his throat and takes another step towards you.

“Let me give you my number,” he says, reaching into his inside pocket to pull out his phone. An indignant laugh bubbles in your throat, too painful to let out.

Now… Now you get his number?? This is the universe laughing at you right in your face. You say nothing, not even acknowledging what he said, as if you didn’t hear him at all.

You just stare at the curb, desperately waiting for Mr. Han to pull up and take you away. In this moment, he’s your only friend in the world.

Seconds go by, and the man beside you reaches back into his jacket, trading his phone for… a pen? He then plucks out the white handkerchief folded neatly in his chest pocket, spreads it on his palm, and flicks the pen over it before passing it to you.

You stare at the handkerchief, at the numbers messily stained on the fabric, and crumple it in your hand, balling it into a tight fist.

Acting on autopilot with a question that’s been spinning around your mind since you shook his hand at dinner, you whip around to face him, faltering slightly when he’s closer than you realized.

“Did you know?” you snap. “This whole time. Did you know about me?”

His face remains emotionless and even though he’s not wearing his shades, you can't see any kind of reaction in his eyes.

His adam’s apple bobs. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

Oh. So he wants to play games. And he’s a fucking coward.

"Then let’s get one thing clear,” you grit, holding up your pointer finger. “If you think I'm gonna be nice to you, think again. And since you couldn’t give a shit about me, don't pretend to be nice to me either."

You get right in his face, but he doesn’t react or move away, and you wonder what it would take for him to stand down.

“Cross me in any way, I’ll tell my brothers who you really are.”

You stare, unblinkingly, in his eyes, searching, waiting for any sign that he’s the least bit intimidated by your threat. But there’s nothing. Just blank, soulless eyes. And to think they once set your heart on fire. Now they’ve turned it to ash.

How you ever fell for them, you’ll never know.

Clearly, you’re a fool.

“We’ll see how long you last, Min Yoongi.”

When you get home, you decline all calls from your brothers and march into your room, not bothering to change, and dig through all of your unpacked boxes searching for an old plastic bag containing a hoodie and a chain that you’ve been carrying around with you for years but you don’t know why. You find Jungkook’s knife, but not the bag and now you’re left with the aftermath of a tornado on your bedroom floor. You spend all night putting everything in its place until the sun rises and your mind is numb, anything to ignore the swarm of angry wasps buzzing in your head because the man you’ve been trying so long to forget just somehow stuck himself in your life, like a knife in your chest.

For the rest of the day, you throw yourself back into the plethora of files you’ve poured over with Namjoon for what seems like hundreds of times. You go through all the budgets, contracts, blueprints, and black books until time bleeds into the late afternoon. But you can’t rest, for those harsh, dark eyes will come back to haunt you in your dreams. You’ll have flashbacks of that night, of him and it will only cause your chest to collapse into a black hole and swallow every last drop of color in your soul.

Jay saunters into the foyer, wolf-whistling upon seeing you and an unsettling feeling takes over when he walks up to you.

“Well, aren’t you just a dream come true?” he muses, shamelessly checking you out and you shoot him a fake smile.

“Thank you,” you say politely, borderline sarcastic, and focus your attention on your reflection in the mirror as you fix your hair and earrings, putting your best poker face on now that your fiancé is standing a few feet away.

“You’re having dinner with your brothers again?” “No, we’re meeting with the commission tonight.”

“Ah. Scary,” he says, a teasing smile on his face. You have a feeling that he actually thinks that, hence why he hasn’t offered up an opportunity to show you off, even though the commission consists entirely of men.

“Will you be alright?”

You don’t know how many times you’ve internally rolled your eyes since you’ve met him. Do you have ‘I’m helpless’ tattooed on your forehead or something?

“Yep. I shouldn’t be out too late.”

“Then I won’t wait up for you.” His tone is light like he’s still making jokes but you are in no joking mood so you bite your tongue. You weren’t expecting him to, nor would you want him to do that. Your phone pings and a rush of heat floods you when you know who it is, announcing his arrival.

“Okay. I think my ride’s here, so I’m gonna head out.”

“Let me walk you.” You want to argue that it’s not necessary, the less time spent interacting with him, the better.

Play nice, Angel, Jin's voice rings in your head. Play nice.

So, you let him accompany you down the hall, help you on with your coat, and open the door for you that you politely thank him for.

In the driveway, a waxed black palisade with tinted windows is parked parallel to the main entrance, exhaust running, and your nostrils flare when you see Min Yoongi - oh, excuse you, D - standing next to the passenger's side, waiting for you with his hands clasped.

“Who’s that?”

“The security my brothers hired,” you say nonchalantly, even though there’s a burning rage in your chest.

“Huh. I thought you had an older driver.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t have any security experience, so.” You notice that your fiancé seems to be somehow bothered by that information, but you don’t press it because you really don’t fucking care.

“Well, have a good-” But he interrupts you, tearing his attention away from the car you’re dreading having to ride in.

“So, my dad wants us to have dinner with them. Maybe you can make some time next weekend? He’ll want to know how things are going at the casino.”

Oh, god. That is the last thing you want to do. Jay’s parents are extremely conservative and traditional, and you can’t imagine what they’ll have to say to you now that you’re living with their son. But again, you have to play nice.

“Sure, I’ll let you know my schedule.”

“Sounds good,” he nods and just as you start to turn, he grabs your hand, the one with the oversized diamond sitting on your ring finger, his head quickly moving from the driveway to lean in and kiss right on the jewel and it makes you feel a bit icky.

“I’ll see you later,” he says from your knuckles with a noticeable grin. You plaster on a tight smile and subtly retract your hand.

“Have a good night.” He nods and lets you go, watching as you make your way down the marble stairs, thinking to yourself this would be the time you might appreciate his help, considering you’re in heels and it’s freezing outside. But you don’t really want him to touch you again so you rely on the railing.

“Take care of my fiancée for me!” Jay calls out as you make it off the porch. Your eyes roll back so far in your head you have to close them and walk blindly for a few seconds. As you approach the car, you keep your head down, refusing to see how D responds to that. Although you don’t think he would, since he’s given you no indication that he even has emotions anymore as of yet.

From one man that pisses you off to the next. To say you're fuming would be an understatement.

Wearing a sleek black suit, a long winter coat to match, and, since it’s still light out, those dark sunglasses, he bows to you in greeting before opening the door, gesturing for you to get in.

"Good evening," he says as you approach, and you don’t reply, don't even look at him. You hate him, you really do, so why is it that his dark, quiet yet thunderous voice makes your heart skip a beat?

You feel his gaze on you as you reach for the back door, completely ignoring him, and slide into the warm car, slamming the door shut before scooting to sit behind the driver's side. You don’t want to be tempted to look at him in the rear-view mirror.

The passenger door closes and you whip out your phone, refusing to stare at the man swiftly striding around the front of the car. As he does, you wonder why the fuck he thought you would want to sit next to him. You’ve never felt comfortable treating your drivers like chauffeurs but this driver is a special case and you hope that he’s gotten the message.

When he gets in and shuts out the cold, you're suddenly overwhelmed by the loud, attractive scent of his cologne and aftershave, a certain musk and mint to it that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head for a split second. Fuck, he smells good, even with a hint of a cigarette. And expensive. You can only imagine the type of salary your brothers smuggle into his wallet, especially now that your safety is his sole responsibility. Protection like that doesn’t come cheap.

You dare him to say anything else, so you get out your case of earbuds with the intention to blast music and drown him out. But before you can shove them in, a stack of manila folders hangs in front of your face, held by long, thin fingers decorated by chunky silver rings, and for a second you want to ask him what the fuck he’s doing, triggered by the fact that you’re so fucking over looking through files, even more so for him to be dumping more on you.

“What’s this?” you grumble, teeth clenching as you reluctantly accept the folders and draw them into your lap.

“Your brother wanted me to find you an assistant, so these are five candidates,” he explains, voice slightly muffled by the engine and from speaking to the windshield. “Take your pick and I’ll set up an interview.”

You can’t help your genuine surprise as you look over the spread he handed you, each file neatly organized with resumes, backgrounds, references and head shots. You wish he fucked something up so you'd have an excuse to call him incompetent, but he did his homework. And if he got all of this together since last night, then he’s more diligent than you want to give him credit for.

You swallow a scoff. "I'm allowed to choose? I didn't think I got a say.”

"If you didn't, I wouldn't be giving you options."

"Are you sure?” You snark, face buried in the files. “I know you answer to my brother, and you wouldn't want to get in any trouble."

A beat passes. "He's not my boss. You are."

Well. That is... the last thing you thought he would say. And you never would've considered yourself his boss.

Oh. You're going to have fun with this.

“These are all men,” you scowl after you flip through all of the resumes.

Yeah, just what you need.

You lean forward to toss the files on the passenger's seat, papers scattering onto the floor. Your instincts urge you to apologize and offer to clean up the mess, but your pride has you sitting back with your arms crossed, looking out of the tinted window indifferently.

“You could’ve saved yourself a lot of trouble if you’d just asked me what I was looking for. But I guess you don’t really care what I want, do you?”

You spare a glance into the rearview mirror, the top half of his face clearly visible, but… you still can’t tell if he’s looking at you. You don’t wait for a response, not thinking there’s anything he could say anyway, and let your earbuds do the job of shutting him out.

It isn’t until you’re halfway to your destination that you realize you didn’t text him at all until an hour before you had to leave, so how could he have contacted you before that? That’s beside the point.

He should know what you’re really throwing in his face.

The car barely pulls to a stop in front of the warehouse when a small group of guards swarm around to flank the doors. Taking out your earbuds, you stare out of the tinted windows at the suited men looking all around to make sure you’re in the clear. You feel anything but assured.

One guard is standing right in front of the door, essentially blocking you inside, and D gets out, apparently needing to be the one to open it for you and assist in your exit.

The air is crisp and cold when your heels hit the gravel, and you don’t miss the way D’s palm flips up as you start to stand, playing it off when you intentionally ignore the gesture by lifting his wrist to his mouth to speak into the mic connected to his earpiece that runs under his sleeve.

You shiver when you step out and D shuts the door, holding an arm out to signal you to walk forward, pressing a finger into his earpiece. The guards fall into formation around you, one in front, one on either side, and D right behind you. This level of protection feels a bit too much as they escort you into the maze of shipping containers, you aren’t the president or some A-list celebrity, but you’re about to walk into a den of wolves, so you can’t go without a pack of your own.

They lead you through the arid warehouse, filled with shelves of boxes ready to ship out on the harbor, some legal, most illicit. In the very back is a steel door, and the leading guard opens it, takes a look down in the stairwell, and beckons you forward. You step into the hallway and catch a glimpse of the emergency exit, door wedged open by a… silver cigarette case? That looks very much like the one you saw your brother slip out of his coat this morning and sneak outside before Jin came down for breakfast. You head for it and a guard puts a hand out to stop you, but you push past him, D calls for you, but you pay no attention and pop open the door, hesitating when Jungkook flinches and whips back his jacket, hand reaching for something in his waistband.

“Jesus, Angel,” he grumbles, letting go of his jacket to cover the handle of his gun, and takes a heavy drag of the cigarette. You bend down to pick up his silver case and the door doesn’t close and you don’t doubt that D is the one holding it open.

“Relax, it’s just lil ole me,” you say, eyebrow raising when he shoots a glare your way. "What's up, bro?"

“What was last night about?" he asks, a hot start. He leans over to snatch the case out of your hands.

“Hey!”

"Are you done being an asshole? You were pretty rude to hyung last night. And D and Hope.” His tone is testy as smoke pours from his lips.

Crossing your arms, you prop yourself on the wall with a huff and an eyeroll.

“Well, that depends. Are you done keeping things from me?” He sighs and scratches the wrinkle between his brows with his thumbnail.

“We knew you wouldn’t like it, so that’s why we waited to tell you.” “What about any of this do you think that I like?” You blurt in a raised voice that gets lost in the frigid breeze. He stares at you for a moment before looking away to take a drag, a tick in his jaw. You aren’t being fair, you know. Your brother is in the exact same boat. Neither of you signed up for this, but at least he wasn’t thrown into the fire at the last minute with little to no time to process anything. And his life isn't being guarded by someone who broke his heart.

"You can't be that way in there."

“I know. I'm sorry,” you try to recover. “It’s just-” As you stare out at the run-down docks, you can’t think of a way to explain what you’re sorry for. Instead, you swivel to face him and step up with a beckoning hand in the air.

“Can I have one?” Flicking ash on the brick, his expression changes to level you with a hesitant look.

“Since when do you smoke?” You don’t really, hating the taste and the smell, but the kind of cigarettes that your brother buys isn’t as pungent and disgusting. Sometimes a little nicotine helps to take the edge off.

“Since I found out I’m about to become a criminal.”

He rolls his eyes. “What do you mean ‘about to’? Haven’t you been arrested before?”

“Not recently!” you exclaim. He’s one to talk! “And besides, that was for petty theft and I wasn’t even charged.”

“Don’t forget the time you spent a night in jail when you got caught speed racing. Hyung was so pissed he had to fly all the way out there to bail your dumb ass out.” Jungkook tilts forward, crossing his ankles as he chuckles out a puff of smoke.

“Well, it’s your fault I even know how to race.” He opens his mouth to argue but you shut him down. “Do you want me to go ahead and list out your rap sheet too? We would be here all night.”

“Go to hell.” You laugh at his disgruntled scowl.

“I’ll meet you there. Give me your lighter or I’ll tell Jin you started smoking again.”

He shakes his head, both of you knowing damn well that Jin would not approve of the two of you chain smoking.

“Don’t be a tattletale.”

“Don’t be a hypocrite.”

“No,” he grumbles. “You shouldn’t be smoking.”

“You shouldn’t either!”

“I know. I’m quitting soon and I'm not about to let you start.”

With a reluctant huff, you lean back against the wall, watching smoke billow out into the night sky. The both of you shiver in silence. It’s quiet out here, save for the sounds of a ship horn blaring in the distance, and the wind whistling into the alley from the docks that carries the smells of fresh water and the old rotting wood of the piers. Scents like these usually bring a sense of calm into your soul, but tonight, anxiety overrides them all. You doubt even nicotine could do anything to ease the disquietude in your head.

“I’m scared,” you confess. You glance over to see him staring down at nothing in particular, not blinking as he smokes and you want him to tell you that he is too, but he’s in no position to be. Not anymore. It used to show in his jaw, in between his brows, the rapid blinking of his eyes, but there’s none of that now. Looking at him now, gone is the boy you grew up with. And you know that’s because of how hard he worked to rid himself of all that fear, just like Jin, and what you have to do too.

“There’s no reason to be.” You look away with a frown, clearly not what you needed to hear, but his hand on your shoulder forces you to turn back.

“Listen. No one can do anything to us once they find out who we are.” You shrug off his hand. He takes a drag and blows it away from your face.

“Who’s to say they won’t?”

“Me. After tonight, I own this city and everything that belongs to us. That includes you, Angel. We’re not the ones who should be afraid.”

“Boss, it’s time to go.” You glance over your shoulder where a single, flickering light above the door shines down on D’s head as he holds it open with a flattened hand. You turn back to your brother as he sucks in a final drag before dropping the butt and squishing it under his heel. Exhaling smoke up to the sky, he hooks an arm around your shoulder and begins walking you to the door, not letting you fight your way out of his hold.

“We got this, sis.” You roughly push him and he finally lets go, clicking your tongue when he laughs at your glare.

“You do,” you mutter, straightening out your coat and smoothing down your dress. Nervous habits. He stops and grabs your elbow.

“It’s us now. We’re in this together, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe through a scared smile.

You keep your head up as you walk past D who slides against the door to put distance between you, yet still close enough to catch another whiff of his cologne. One breath and you’re aggravated that it’s him, another breath and the scent filters into your senses, leaving an undeniable calm.

Back inside, Jungkook claps a hand on D’s shoulder as the guards return to their formation to lead you down the stairs and into the den. Before you enter, you can tell just how crowded it is from the sounds of chatter and laughter that drips exorbitant wealth, and the accompanying stench of thick illegal cigars that makes your nose itch.

Jungkook walks around you to be the first one in the room and a wave of anxiety skids your heels to a stop. A presence that you’re coming to know all too well looms behind you, like he’s your shadow. More like a demon. Your eyes close to quell the drum pounding in your chest.

“After you,” he mutters, the sinful thunder in his voice mere inches away from your ear sending a shiver down your spine, eyes flying open and feet moving on their own accord to get away from it.

Fuck. That.

The ringing in your ears that stems from his voice and low-spoken words rumbling in a loop through your mind aids you in your ability to shut out the room and the way it quiets down as you walk to the head of the table where your brothers stand in wait for you. The rest of the men are also already standing and it just makes their intense, collective stare on you that much more stifling.

You remove your coat and a hand stretches out beside you that you silently allow to take your coat. Jin gestures for you to sit on his right, across from Jungkook, and waves for the commission to take their seats as well. Behind you, the doors close and one glance to the side shows D getting into place with your brothers guards by the adjacent wall, holding your coat.

With a polite, reserved expression, you take a sweep of the room and observe that these men are an assortment of strange faces and ones you’ve seen in Namjoon’s files. They’re all young and old. Father and son. Leaving you as the outlier. And that causes a lump in your throat.

Jin launches into introducing you and Jungkook, and all you can do is keep your back straight and hands on the table, respectfully paying attention as he explains how now that he’s going on the lam, the family heads will defer to Jungkook, and their crews and associates will report to you for any and all financial endeavors at the casino. As Jin speaks these plans into reality, you finally begin to feel the full pressure and burden of your impending responsibilities.

And this time your brother won't be there to bail you out.

The members offer your end of the table diplomatic nods of acknowledgement and subtle darting eyes between you and Jungkook.

But just as Jin gives Jungkook the floor, a deep, condescending laugh resounds from across the table, belonging to a smug, rugged man wearing thick chains and even thicker rings. All attention snaps to his interruption and your skin crawls when he fixes you with a leering, patronizing stare.

“I’m sorry, but with all due respect, do you really think your junkie brother can handle being in charge?”

Your eyebrows cross at the audacity. He’s speaking as if Jin is not the reigning top boss of this entire room and Jungkook is not about to step in and fill his shoes. There’s a slur to his words and the near empty decanter next to his glass indicates that he’s imbibed and probably incognizant. Because who in their right mind would dare to provoke the kingpin of the city’s mob syndicate like this.

You look over to Jin, expecting him to call out the man’s blatant disrespect, but both him and Jungkook are staring the man down with darkness and anger that you’ve never seen before. Perhaps they’re just giving him the chance to dig himself into a hole so deep he’ll have to stay there.

“And what about her?” the man with a greasy mustache points at you. “I don’t know if I can trust her capabilities with dealing business at the casino. I mean, what does she know?”

He’s underestimating you and you’re sure he’s not alone in that. Everyone else is just smart enough to keep their mouths shut. You feel the urge to pull your hands into your lap to frown at, but you just lean back in your chair, maintaining a cool expression as you wait for him to spew more of his bullshit.

“Yeah, sure they were born with the purpose of serving your father, but we all know they weren’t raised like you. So how can they possibly be prepared to take over in your place?”

“Because they’re my blood,” Jin finally says, voice steady and reasonable. But his narrowed eyes and blown out pupils tells you he’s anything but.

“Only by half,” he sneers. “Wasn’t their mother some low-life maid?” You feel choked by the mention of your mother and wonder just how much this man and the rest of the commission know about you beyond what they’re entitled to. Your chest squeezes when you catch eyes with Jungkook as he furiously picks at his fingers, probably not realizing he’s even doing it.

“See, that’s where the don went wrong. Choosing a peasant to procreate his back-up heirs with. Their blood doesn’t really count, at least not in my book.” Lee looks around as if to see who else is on his side, but no one takes their attention off of Jin as he rises and digs a hand onto Jungkook’s shoulder.

“He is the don now.”

Lee scoffs. “He’s a junkie! Just like your father.” Your fingers clench into a tight fist, the urge to stand up for your brother sending a violent rush through your veins.

“Watch your fucking mouth, Lee,” Jin growls in a malicious tone. “You’re forgetting your place. Don’t make me remind you.”

“My place,” Lee chuckles bitterly, shaking his head. He picks up his glass and bangs it on the table with a thud. “My place should be at the head of that fucking table with my son, not these little children. We should be the next in line now that you’re resigning!” “I’m not resigning,” Jin barks, fixing the entire room with a dead serious glare. “I’m leaving to avoid prison. Because if I go down, I’m taking everyone with me. Do I make myself fucking clear?”

Jin’s power reverberates off of the walls and it carves away some of your anxiety. He points a stern finger at Lee.

“They are the rightful heirs, just as I am, and I won’t throw away all of what I’ve built just because you don’t accept that.”

“What your father built,” Lee spits in contempt. Jin bends down with a heavy slam of his hands on the wood surface. “What my family built. And what my brother and sister will continue to build because it’s theirs now.” “Do they know that’s the only reason why they were born? Well, him at least.” Your face contorts in confusion when he points at Jungkook. Jin lifts his hands from the table and the tension in the room grows thicker as he stands tall. “Excuse me?” “It’s a fair question. Does she know that when there were rumors that Don Kim had a daughter, he adamantly denied it?”

Your heart pounds in your ears when Lee slides his beady eyes to you, fingernails digging into your sweaty palms.

“You were a mistake, sweetheart,” he lilts with an ugly, crooked grin. “What use would he have with a girl? All you’re good for now is playing trophy wife to appease the son of your father’s biggest investor. You’re just a pawn in his business plan, you have no real value.”

“Lee, that’s enough-” Jin snarls.

“Lee Dong-wook, right?” you starkly interject, staring unwaveringly at him and his rising eyebrow. “Didn’t you lose your business in the east harbors when you failed to keep quota and you couldn’t control disputes between the local gangs? I can’t remember exactly how much money and how many men you cost my brothers but I know it was a lot.”

Lee’s jaw drops, rendered speechless. A raging vein begins to bulge on the side of his forehead, turning his face beet red now that you’re doing the job of tearing him down from his high horse.

“But at least you still have this side of the harbor so you can trade paraphernalia with other parts of the coast. Like these.” You reach forward for a box of cigars in front of Jungkook, only to find it empty. To your surprise and everyone else's, you stand and move to pass behind your brothers, ignoring Jin’s hushed, “What are you doing?” as you walk over to Lee, hoping to exert some intimidation by standing your ground over him. You try to disregard the fact that he is twice your size and far more muscular but Jungkook’s words from earlier remind you that no one can hurt you now. The shadow that follows you will ensure that.

You spot another cigar box next to Lee and another older man, and no one says anything as you lean in between them to take one out, snatching up one of the lighters as well. Holding up the cigar beneath your nose, you inhale the strong flavored mix of coffee and leather.

“Hmm, not bad,” you reflect, analyzing the stamped label before you unravel the plastic. “Kind of cheap, but I guess the tobacco isn’t what your customers are actually after. It’s smart, smuggling amphetamines in these. Just ironic that you move rock for a living but have the nerve to call my brother a junkie. I don't doubt you take samples.”

The wrapper you crumple and the lighter you flick open to fire up the cigar become the only sounds in the room. After disposing of the metal and plastic on the table, you place the wrapped leaf between your teeth and brace yourself as you take a smooth drag.

“And you must be stupid if you think I don’t know that my father didn’t want me,” you say, blowing smoke up to the ceiling while you do your best to pretend that the strong hit isn’t scratching the hell out of your throat. You glance back down to Lee whose eyes are on the brink of bulging right out of their sockets.

“But you see, I’m not here for him. I’m here for them,” you point the cigar over your shoulder at Jin and Jungkook.

“You sure they’re not forcing you?” Lee challenges, tongue thick with rage causing specks of saliva to catch on his mustache. Gross. “No one can force me to do anything,” you reply calmly. “I’ll do whatever it takes for my brothers.” A moment passes, and then another, with no response and you think you’ve made your case. But just as you’re about to give up the facade that you’re enjoying this piss-awful cigar, Lee harshly gruffs out, “Would you kill for them, little girl?”

Tilting your head, your mind races as you imagine all the ways you could show him how far you’re willing to go for both of them. A small smile creeps onto the corner of your lips around the cigar.

“Do you want to find out?” His mustache twitches. You blow smoke in its direction. “Are you threatening me?” “You tell me,” you shrug. “If anything, I’d be doing you a favor.”

“Pardon?” You lazily tap the cigar, unphased when the ash falls to the floor, some of it on Lee’s lap, earning a menacing glower.

“It sounds like you have a death wish. Coming in here and disrespecting my brothers even though you can’t do a goddamn thing without their say so. They own you and, now, so do I.”

Lee doesn’t break your stare but by the curl of his fist on the arm of the chair and his cheeks that tinge an even darker red, you’ve severely pissed him off. “You don’t have what it takes to kill me.” Taking that as a challenge, you reach down, lift the hem of your slacks, and snatch out the knife nestled in the strap around your calf. In a flash, you bring your sharp silver blade to the vein on his thick neck, smoke from the cigar dangerously close to his sideburns. “Wanna bet?”

A commotion erupts around you as one of Lee’s men move to defend him at a moment’s notice, weapon threatening to withdraw and your pulse glitches for a second at the potential danger. That is until a figure behind you pushes away Lee’s guard and you know without looking that it’s Jungkook coming to your aid. And next to him is that dark and menacing man smelling of mint and musk and intimidation.

“Well, I bet you’d hate to get killed by a girl. So I’ll save you your dignity.”

Lowering your knife, you lean away but pause when a goading sneer grows on his ugly mug.

“You’re weak. Just like your brother who can’t even man up and take responsibility for the casino because of what happened to his little-” Before he can finish that sentence that would have Jungkook flying off the handle, you stab the burning end of your cigar on the back of his hand, twisting a sear into his skin until he leaps up with a shriek.

“You bitch!” The cigar plants itself on the side of his neck, until your wrist is grabbed and ripped away, tobacco falling to the floor, just like the man who dared to put hands on you. As you’re pulled back by your brother, off to the side is D manhandling Lee’s guard into submission, face pressed into the wall with a gun shoved into the side of his head. Your brothers’ guards surround you and there’s a standoff with Lee’s men, the rest of the room watching on in shock, no one else daring to move lest they get caught in impending crossfire.

“Weapons down, now,” Jin’s terse voice booms. The guns slowly lower but the fierce glares remain pinned on opposite sides.

“Lee. You’re dismissed.” You think that’s code for, I’m not going to kill you in front of my sister. You’re positive if you weren’t present, this night would’ve ended in bloodshed.

“Have fun getting whacked,” you grin devilishly at Lee who can’t decide which burn hurts worse. “I hope your last thought is of my pretty face.”

In brazen stupidity, Lee steps forward but before his foot can even touch the ground, he’s sent flying back with your brother’s fists in his collar. A hand on your elbow tugs you away from the chaos you created, but you can’t look away from it, like it’s a car crash. But D steps in front of you just as you’re dragged to the front of the room by your brother. Your coat is swung around your shoulders and suddenly you’re facing Jin who guides you to the door. D appears right by your side.

“I knew you had it in you, kiddo,” Jin says with a proud glint in his eyes. On the other side of the room, your brother’s guards are doing their best to keep Jungkook and Lee apart as they usher him to the exit.

“D, take her home.”

The backseat of the car is warm on the ride home. Your hands are shaking, surely from the adrenaline. That’s when it hits you, what you just did. Fuck. You’ve never acted that way before, never purposely hurt someone because you didn’t like what they said.

But you liked it. The power you had, and the confidence it gave you. And that scares you.

“Are you okay?” D asks tentatively. It’s then that you realize you’ve been crying. You flick a defiant tear from your cheek and wrap your arms tighter around yourself.

“What do you care?” you mumble bitterly. The rest of the drive is spent in silence. If you were sitting up front, you would’ve seen the way his fingers flexed on the steering wheel.

When he pulls up to your house, you quickly get out even though he starts to say something, desperate to be inside, away from him and the cold and everything that happened.

You don’t know why your office has become your safe haven, but you return there and collapse into one of the armchairs, weighed down by tonight, and what’s in store. Not to mention the extra weight added on your chest because of D.

So you cry. You cry until you're practically dehydrated, but you don't think that could stop you with how much you're hurting. That is until you hear a knock on your office door. It startles you, you’ve never expected anyone to check on you, especially not your fiancé. Were you crying so loud that he could hear you all the way across the house? You don't think that much of it, too busy getting a hold of yourself to look presentable before cracking open the door.

His face is overshadowed by the hallway light, and you can't see his eyes that well. You try to hide your swollen, tear-streaked cheeks from him, but he peers over the door with a small yet gentle smile.

"What's wrong? Did things not go well with the commission?”

You quickly wipe away any stray tears, putting on a brave face as you open the door a little further.

"Ah, well. It was just a lot, y’know?” You scramble, because you can't actually tell him what's wrong. Obviously. You don't think you'll ever be able to tell anyone. And you definitely don’t want to admit that you’re being weak.

"I do. Everything will be okay. It'll all take some adjustment." Huh. That's... comforting, coming from him. Like he understands.

"So, I was just in the kitchen, raiding the pantries for some snacks. Would you care to join?"

“Sure. You, uh,” you tug your sleeves over your hands, clenching them with cold fingers. “You couldn’t hear me from all the way out there, right?”

He turns his back to you with a laugh, leading you down the hallway.

“No, but I noticed you came home late and, well, I just wanted to see how things went. But I wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk to me.”

“You said you wouldn’t wait up.” “I was joking, but I guess it didn’t land well. You might have to get used to my sense of humor.” That was humor?

Damn. When did you get so mean?

On the island counters in the expansive kitchen, he sets out some bowls and fills them with snacks as you take a seat on one of the tall stools.

“Do you like any of these?” “Sure,” you shrug, reaching for one of the bowls.

“If there’s anything you want, put it on a list and I can send it off to be picked up.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I can do my own shopping. Thanks, though.” You’ll have to text your brothers later to tell them how right you are about him.

“Alright, well let me know if you change your mind. I’m just trying to help out.”

You nod, chewing pensively, and he shakes his head to change the subject.

“Anyway, can you tell me what happened tonight? That made you so upset.”

You carefully retell bits and pieces of the meeting, leaving out the part when you stabbed an old man twice with a cigar. You give him the gist of how the family heads might not entirely back the idea of you and Jungkook gaining control of the syndicate, to which Jay tells you they’ll have to get over it because you’re just doing your family duty.

For a while, you chat, finding that conversation with your fiance comes a little easier than you thought. You guess you just had to give it a chance. He gives you his support for some of the plans you have for the casino renovations and even offers to take a look at the blueprints. He cracks corny jokes every now and then that you have to force a bit of laughter because sometimes they don’t make sense, but you don’t entirely loathe this whole interaction.

He is very charming; you'll give him that. But you still have a prickly feeling that it’s all just an act to be good to you in order to impress your brothers and get on their good side. And once they’re out of sight, no longer around to look out for you, he’ll show his true colors. Maybe you’re just jaded and bitter.

But you don’t think you should let your guard down just yet.

You won’t make the same mistake again.

lmaoooo originally i was aiming for a 12-14k word count. whoops. but it's finally here! this has been a whirlwind. I've been wanting to get this out for a while but i've been kind of nervous about it. honestly im glad i waited because so many things came together for this part that i didn't have before. sorry for the wait.

xxx - claret

thank you for reading 😊

let me know what you think!!! <333

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