#remembering childhood makes my heart so heavy :'(♡

[sugarcandydoll]

Vintage 2000s Toycore Nostalgia

awww this toy room evokes so many emotions within meee ♡😣💕 dunno if it feels good or bad maybe bothh :(♡

[togenabi]

the promised knight

knight!roronoa zoro x princess!reader

♡— after a lifetime apart, zoro finds his way back to you

word count♡— 8.7k (screams into the void)

genre♡— royalty au, childhood friends to strangers to lovers, slow burn bc a lot of things happen, but there's fluff bc I need there to be

content notes♡— fem!reader wears dresses, mentions of death and grief, very plot heavy, kuina and mihawk are here, canon-typical violence, original side characters, no use of y/n, proofread(ish), inaccurate royalty things, inaccurate chemistry/poisons/acids, yes I got the name florentia from ill be the matriarch

also on♡— ao3

author's note♡— quick explanation!: a regent has no right to the throne, they're just someone stepping in temporarily while the next monarch is absent or unable to execute their powers. happy reading!!

Your happiest years were when everyone was together.

Those were the days you’d sneak out of your lessons to go play in the training grounds. You’d find your best friends arguing about something or other, fighting with wooden swords and chasing each other around.

Kuina and Zoro did their best to include you in whatever game they were playing. You found it all good fun, even if you were mostly being rescued or hidden away somewhere. The proud smiles on their faces when they saved you always made the wait for them worth it.

“Why do I have to play the bad guy?” A young Zoro whines, frowning deeply with shoulders slumped. His wooden sword hangs lazily in his hand, pointed to the ground. 

Opposite him, Kuina’s blade was up, stable and correct with proper posture. “Because we agreed I would save the princess today!”

You remember sending Zoro a small smile, trying to reassure him, “You can save me next time, Zoro. I promise.”

Zoro complained, but gave his all acting as a bandit out to rob you. You and Kuina would run into the meadow—hands held in each other’s—squealing and laughing. You’d always end up collapsed together; among the grass and the flowers. They would cheer and scream into the sky, happy that the great knights protected their princess once again.

But that same meadow is now covered with a blanket of melancholy. The colors aren’t as vibrant as they were back then. Flowers no longer bloom like they did. The children’s laughter has been replaced by a deafening silence.

Everything changed when Kuina died.

She was hit by a stray arrow, they said. They called it a tragic accident. 

More sadness only seemed to follow after she was gone. Zoro left without a word, abandoning his training, and you along with it. Your mother, Queen Florentia, passed due to an illness a few months after that. In a blink of an eye, you lost everything back then.

The large doors to your chambers slam shut, breaking you from your train of thought. The thud echoes into every corner before fading into noiselessness once more. 

A maid rushes in, completely out of breath and practically stumbling towards you. “Your Highness!” She gasps. Waving a hand, you gesture for her to calm down.

“Selma,” You pour her some water in a glass. It’s strange to see your personal maid so distressed. “What did you find?”

Practically inhaling the water, she places a hand over her heart before explaining, “You were right, Your Ladyship. The commander informed me that several knights had poison hidden in their quarters.”

Her eyes trail to the glass she’s holding, then to the pitcher. Selma’s face becomes appalled as it sinks in that you had poured her a drink. You cut her off before she can make a fuss about it.

“Never mind all that.” There are more pressing matters than decorum right now. “What else did Mihawk say? Have the knights been apprehended?”

“No, my Lady.” Selma retrieves a transparent vial from her pocket. “The commander said there's a chance the poisons were planted. Trustworthy men could have been framed… He discourages you from trusting any of them at all.”

The vial is small, barely larger than your thumb. To an untrained eye, it looks like nothing is there. You hold it up to the window, letting the sun’s setting rays shine through the glass.

There it is. A near-invisible, lavender sheen in liquid. The queen regent’s signature poison.

“Damn it all.” You sigh, falling into an armchair. 

It’s common knowledge that most of the people are loyal to Queen Regent Cassiopeia. Not to you, the rightful heir to the throne.

Ever since she took the position after your mother’s death, she’s been doing everything in her power to discredit you. Though she's not in the official line of succession, her goal is to become queen by any means necessary.

You’ve only been able to hold on for so long because there are still people loyal to your mother, like Commander Mihawk. However, it will take only one slip up for your standing to collapse. Cassiopeia knows this, and you suspect that she plans to completely ruin you at the upcoming knighting ceremony.

On a paneled wall in your room, encased in an ornate golden frame, hangs a portrait of Queen Florentia. The gold reminds you of the gilded dagger she gave you as a child. 

Subconsciously, your hand moves to rest over your pocket; where the dagger is hidden under your skirt. What would your mother have done in this situation?

You scan the painting as if the image would respond. It doesn’t, but your eyes settle on the necklace she’s wearing. It was her most prized possession, and she had promised to give it to you when you were older, but it’s sadly lost to time.

The vial grows heavy in your fist. Your mother would stop at nothing until Cassiopeia is defeated, so that’s what you’ll set out to do.

“Selma, get me some ink and parchment.” You order, feeling more determined. “I have a plan.”

Dracule Mihawk burned the note as soon as he finished reading it. Your idea was brilliant, if only a little complicated to execute. 

Cassiopeia will demand you choose a personal knight during the ceremony. Assuming all the knights are loyal to the queen regent, none of them would be a safe choice.

So, you asked Mihawk to hire a skilled fighter to pose as a knight. Someone whose loyalty cannot be bought. Immediately, he knew who to recruit. Though he warned you that you might not find the man… agreeable.

“I don’t care.” You replied stubbornly. “I can’t afford to be picky. Just make sure that he won’t kill me in my sleep.”

Mihawk muses that he might be killed by you in his sleep. Because in a shady, run-down tavern, he sits beside a familiar green-haired swordsman nursing a drink at the bar.

“Fancy seeing you here, commander.” Zoro spits out the title in disgust.

“It seems that some things never change.” Mihawk hums. “You’re still in the same place as you were when we last fought.”

“And your legend ends with you kissing up to that false queen.” Disappointment practically drips from his tone.

“And here you are,” There’s an amused glint in the knight commander’s eye. “...still not able to beat me, Roronoa Zoro.”

Zoro’s jaw clenches in frustration. He breathes out deeply, “What do you want, old man?”

“Join my knights.”

Scoffing, Zoro can’t believe his ears. Is this guy serious? “I’m no knight. Not anymore.”

“Are you sure about that?” Mihawk tests. “The princess needs someone not easily dissuaded.”

At the mention of you, Zoro freezes. He squints at the commander as it dawns on him, “You don’t serve that Cassiopeia bitch.”

“Obviously.”

“But why did you become commander only after Queen Florentia died?” Zoro asks. “Everyone thought you were bought off.”

“That’s besides the point.” Mihawk hisses. “I know you’ve been wanting to make it up to the princess. I’m giving you a chance to do that on a silver platter.”

Zoro stays quiet, eyes watching the alcohol ripple in his glass. He’s not drunk enough for this discussion. And he meant what he said, that he’s not a knight. That dream died with Kuina, and he chose to pursue less honorable ways to become stronger.

It’s funny how Mihawk, who was an outlaw, traded his jacket for a suit of armor. And now, he's trying to act righteous. But some things are just—

“It’s not too late to change things.” Mihawk attempts to persuade him, calmer this time. “Something tells me you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Shaking his head, Zoro can’t believe this man is talking like he knows him. “What do you know about regret?”

When the commander doesn’t respond, Zoro turns to see Mihawk’s face, a grave expression marks his features.

“I know far too much, I’m afraid.”

Zoro studies him for a moment longer, curious as to what he meant—but he doesn’t dare ask. Only an idiot would test Dracule Mihawk. 

This master swordsman, whom he’s looked up to for so many years, has changed drastically. Perhaps everyone has. It makes Zoro wonder how much you might’ve changed in the years he’s been gone.

You. He’s—there’s so much he wants to say. So much he wants to ask… but does he have the right to? 

Who is he kidding? He doesn’t. 

And yet, Zoro can’t help but wonder if he passes on this opportunity and regrets it, would he spend the rest of his life wishing he could make up for it?

After downing his drink, Zoro slams the glass on the bar counter.

“What do I need to do?”

Selma assists you with your hair and makeup on the day of the ceremony. She’s practically buzzing as she flutters around you. It’s nice that she’s still enthusiastic about things like these, even when dangers lurk in the shadows.

“You look stunning, Your Ladyship!” She gushes, adjusting the different layers of your dress so that it falls on you perfectly. “A vision, you are. Just like Queen Florentia.”

“Thank you.” You respond gratefully, despite not feeling as sure and confident as your mother was. Would that change, if you were to become queen?

A knock sounds on your door. Selma rushes to answer it, and lets Mihawk into your chambers. He steps in, but remains by the entryway.

“You look lovely, princess.” The commander bows to you in greeting. “I was instructed to escort you once you’re ready.”

Nodding, you approach him and hold onto his arm. “Let us be on our way.”

Keeping your face carefully neutral, you whisper to Mihawk under your breath, “Will you really not let me know the knight’s name? How am I supposed to know who to appoint?”

“You’ll know.” Mihawk pats your hand reassuringly. “Without a doubt, you’ll know. I just hope you’re not too hard on him.”

You side-eye him. “He’s not a convict or something, is he?”

Mihawk presses his mouth shut. This bastard, is he trying not to laugh? “You might actually prefer a convict over him.” 

That pulls a frown out of you that you cannot contain. What on earth is that supposed to mean? Is the man that bad? How are you supposed to mentally prepare with such vague warnings?

All thoughts of the mystery knight fade into the back of your mind, however, when you and Mihawk make your entrance at the throne room. 

The extravagant hall is decorated to the nines. Flags of different family crests hang from the ceiling. Flowers bloom at every window sill. You smile at it all, at your people—but it fails to reach your eyes. It’s difficult to truly smile when Cassiopeia stands dangerously close to your mother’s throne.

You curtsy when you reach the steps, one hand still on Mihawk’s arm as the fabric of your skirt dips onto the floor. You hear murmurs of approval from the ministers in the front row, pleased to see the good relationship between the princess and queen regent.

But they don’t see through your gloves, how your grip on your skirt is tense and far too tight. They don’t see how Cassiopeia’s smile is truly a smirk when you lower your head to her.

“Lovely to have you here, darling.” She says, and you fight the urge to laugh. ‘Lovely’ would be if she accepted her place and let go of her greed. 

Mihawk guides you to the smaller throne on the left. This has been your seat since you were born. If Cassiopeia had her way, it would be your seat until the end of your days.

She glides to the center of the dais, the train of her excessive dress flows like a river after her. She stands; graceful, powerful and smiling—but she will never be happy until she can sit on the throne and wear your mother’s crown.

Whatever it takes, you will find a way to stop her.

“Welcome to the long-awaited knighting ceremony.” Cassiopeia addresses the audience. “It is an honor to have the kingdom’s finest pledge to serve and protect us.”

The ceremony proceeds to speeches from several dignitaries. Mihawk delivers a short yet intense declamation about the knightage being the greatest honor; and hands the queen regent an elaborate, bejeweled sword.

“These warriors before us today are hereby called forward to receive Knighthood. The kingdom will forever be grateful for your service.” Cassiopeia proclaims.

Attentively observing the knights lined up, you keep an eye out for the one Mihawk recruited for you. One at a time, Cassiopeia announces their name before tapping their shoulders with the ornamental blade.

You grow restless as the line dwindles. Frustrated, you throw questioning looks at the commander’s direction. He skillfully avoids your gaze. The nerve.

When only about five men are left, you begin to study them all and weigh your options. Perhaps you should pick someone with a smaller build, so that you can have a better chance of escaping? You also spotted someone who appeared clumsy. If you were to outsmart him, your odds of surviving weren’t so bleak.

But then—dramatically, as if in slow motion—the great doors to the throne room opened with a loud, booming sound. Everyone turned as light poured into the hall.

A swordsman makes his entrance. His armor is unassuming, but the three blades at his side demand attention. He wears a helmet over his head, but even after so much time, you’d know those eyes anywhere.

Mihawk was right. You would have preferred a convict—or maybe some rogue, or a thief who would rob you blind. You would have preferred anyone over Roronoa Zoro.

You thought you’d never see him again, but he’s here, marching towards the end of the line. You gape at him, feeling too many emotions all at once. Why is he here? Why now?

Mihawk intercepts Cassiopeia before she can question Zoro’s identity. “Forgive me, queen regent. This young man ran late due to an errand I sent him out on.” 

How brilliant of him. Cassiopeia hates unexpected interruptions, but would never express her frustrations openly with so many people watching.

It’s amusing to see her grin and bear it. “That’s… quite alright, commander. I’m glad he made it before the end of the ceremony.”

When only Zoro remains to be appointed, you stand and call for the queen regent’s attention.

“Should he accept, this man shall be my personal knight.” You declare as Zoro’s gaze meets yours.

“What of your decision, knight?” Cassiopeia asks. Zoro nods, and the queen regent’s gaze sharpens. She understands that something is amiss, but passes the decorated blade to you without a word.

Back when you were children, you used to dream of this moment together. Kuina and Zoro would kneel before you on the grass beneath a shining sun, pledging their unwavering loyalty as you tap their shoulders with a stick.

You’re no longer children, but as Zoro kneels before you now, you still feel like a child all the same. Your clothes feel too big. The throne room is too vast; the ceiling too high. The sword is too heavy in your hands as you raise it.

“Roronoa Zoro. I hereby dub thee into the honorable order of knights as my chosen protector.” The blade lands on his shoulder—his right first, then the other. You pray to the stars that no one notices your hold quivering.

“Arise, Sir Zoro, and be recognized.”

You’re no longer children, but you’re still here. Playing a different sort of game.

Mihawk, the wise man that he is, makes himself scarce after the ceremony. You’re left to awkwardly journey back to your chambers with Zoro in tow. He doesn’t speak a word the entire time, but you can feel his eyes burning a hole through the back of your head. 

Selma is there when you get back, your usual afternoon refreshments prepared. She approaches you, but stops short when she sees Zoro.

“Leave us.” You tell her. She obeys, albeit reluctantly—looking back over her shoulder more than once as she exits.

After the door closes shut, the outside world feels a million miles away; making the air feel tense. You hastily take off your gloves, the fabric suddenly feels constricting against your skin. Every fiber of your being wants to scream at him.

Roronoa Zoro. Your best friend who had left all those years ago. You don’t even know where to start. 

Maybe throwing something at him will make you feel better. 

You throw one of your gloves. The fabric hits his chest before falling pathetically. 

“Seriously?” Zoro frowns at you, unimpressed. You throw the other one. It meets the same fate.

Grumbling under his breath, Zoro takes off his helmet. It vexes you how you subconsciously hold your breath until you see his face.

You huff skeptically, “Why are you here?��

“Mihawk said you needed help.” He answers with a shrug, causing his armor clink. 

After a breath, he speaks cautiously, “I didn’t know things had gotten this bad.”

“How could you have known?” You bite back, “You left, Zoro.”

In a sense, you understand why Mihawk chose him. You asked for someone who wouldn’t kill you in your sleep, and Zoro—at least, the one you knew—definitely wouldn’t.

Some (rational) part of your brain is telling you to keep quiet and accept his help. With Cassiopeia planning a mutiny, time is something you don’t have a lot of. 

But your heart still feels angry and hurt when you see his—stupidly handsome—face. The years just had to treat him well, didn’t they?

“I’m thankful for your help,” You admit disgruntledly. “But I’m not happy about it.”

Zoro calls your name. It makes your heart ache a bit, but you hold a hand up to silence him. 

“Please, just—I need time to process this, Zoro.” Turning away from the knight, your eyes find the window. The sunset paints the meadow in deep oranges and blues. It doesn’t make you feel any better.

“...We’ll talk tomorrow.” You promise, your tiredness evident from your tone.

Zoro lingers, hesitating. But he doesn’t push you. You hear his armor shift as he bows before he leaves.

That night, Zoro stands guard outside your door. It’s good that no one else is around, it allows him to think in peace. About you.

The last time Zoro saw you, you were a small thing, getting dirt on the edge of your skirt. When he saw you today, sullying even the path you walked on felt like a crime. 

He knew you would be mad. He had prepared himself to be yelled at. Maybe he thought you would cry. How much you went through didn’t really sink in until he saw how exhausted you were. 

All the things he wanted to say, every apology and excuse, fade into nothing. The first thing he wants to tell you is how thankful he is that you’re still alive. It doesn’t matter that you stay mad at him forever, he’ll protect you for just as long.

Footsteps sound through the dim hallway. Zoro rests a hand on his blades, ready to fight back anyone who poses a threat. A knight he’s not acquainted with approaches, his steps staggering just a bit. The man carries a bottle of alcohol.

“Hey! New guy!” The stranger bellows. “This ’ere is a little something we prepared for ya, since yous didn’t eat dinner with us.” Zoro makes a mental note that they’ve been watching him.

“Take it, take it.” The knight tries to shove the bottle into Zoro’s hands. At the last second, Zoro spots a knife the man hides behind his back.

Quick on his feet, Zoro jabs the man’s neck, causing him to stumble. The knight charges at him, but Zoro effortlessly dodges. Grabbing the knight’s shoulder, Zoro slams his head onto the stone wall.

The bottle clatters to the floor as his opponent collapses, looking up at him in fear. Picking up the glass, Zoro sniffs at its contents. It’s laced with some sort of sedative. 

Zoro pries the knight’s jaw open before pouring the drugged beverage into his mouth. The amber liquid spills. The man coughs, gurgling and struggling in vain until he slumps onto the ground.

Observing the bottle inquisitively, Zoro shakes his head before dropping it again. What kind of amateurish attempt was this? Is the queen regent testing his skills? 

If anything, all this managed to do was—Zoro starts, turning to your door in alarm—…divert his attention.

Not a second later, he kicks down your door. The elaborately carved wood falls from its hinges, dust clouds billow once it crashes on the previously spotless tiles of your room.

You’re fighting off three large strangers clad in black, a dagger in your hand. Zoro tries not to think about how your eyes softened in relief when they landed on him as he cuts down one of the intruders. Maybe you still care for him a little.

“Took you long enough!” Or not.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” He grunts back, slashing his sword at someone charging towards you. Zoro only realizes the deeper meaning to his words when you make a face. 

“Don’t make being late a habit, Zoro!” Stabbing an intruder’s side, you quip at him, “You and your dramatic entrances, I swear.”

Zoro bites back a grin. He missed you more than you’ll ever know. 

After taking down one of the intruders, you hide in your wardrobe as Zoro deals with the rest.

It would be smart to lock the door. Barricade it, so that no one can get to you on the off chance Zoro is defeated. But you don’t. You keep the door ajar to watch everything unfold. The way he fights is a captivating sight.

Look at him. Your knight in lackluster armor. Protecting you like how you always talked about as kids. He’s wielding two blades, one for each perpetrator still standing. You blink in surprise when you make out the third, sheathed blade. Kuina’s.

The more you examine him, the more you see how different he seems. He carries himself more confidently, unlike that boy who whined about roles, responsibilities and challenges. 

You also see how gruff he’s become. He’s grown stronger, for sure, but you get the sense that he’s closed himself off from the world. Perhaps the years weren’t as kind to him as you'd thought.

The last intruder lets out a pitiful cry as Zoro knocks him unconscious.

“I’ll tie them up and let Mihawk deal with them in the morning.” Zoro says, pausing to breathe for a moment before dragging the men out by their feet.

Emerging from your wardrobe, you become dismayed at the sight of your room in such a state. “Did you really have to kick down the door?” You groan.

Surprisingly, Zoro blanks, appearing sheepish. “...I didn’t know it would break like that. I just—you should get a damn better door.” He mumbles, heaving the doors up and resting them against the wall outside.

When he comes back from restraining the intruders, he stands before you awkwardly—like he doesn’t know what to do when he’s not fighting or cleaning up bodies.

No one says anything. You both just take each other in, not completely recognizing the person that looks back.

You don’t feel so angry at him anymore. When all’s said and done, everyone has different ways of dealing with grief. Your heart only grows conflicted, wishing you had been there for each other instead of being apart. Goodness knows you could have used someone by your side. You’re sure he did as well.

“I—” Zoro falters. “...I’m glad you’re okay.”

‘Okay’ isn’t how you would describe your current state, but you nod anyway. 

“You too, Zoro.”

In a secluded alcove in the royal gardens the following afternoon, you invite Mihawk for tea on the pretense of thanking him for your newly sworn knight. The story that spread was that you would have been done for were it not for Zoro. You don’t want to think about how true that might be.

“The queen regent is furious you were able to secure a knight loyal to you.” Mihawk informs you as he helps himself to some pastries. “We should avoid meeting for a while, lest she suspect anything of me.”

“Alright.” You agree. “Selma also informed me that we can gather statements from mistreated staff.” You show Mihawk a list of names. “If enough of them support us, and if we can prove Cassiopeia orchestrated what happened last night… We can take her down.”

“She will be busy attending a gala this evening. I’ll make sure no one is near her office while she’s gone.” Mihawk turns to Zoro, who is standing guard behind you, sending him a fearsome look. “Those men got a tad too close last night—”

“Mihawk.” You warn him to drop it. He doesn’t.

“Ensure that it doesn’t happen again, young man.” 

“It won’t.” Zoro replies icily. The commander only huffs in response. 

‘It won't happen.’, he said. But trouble finds you when Zoro steps on a tripwire in Cassiopeia's office. Arrows soar, launching from scattered, hidden contraptions. Zoro shoves you into a bookshelf, covering your frame with his.

“So much for her not finding out we were here.” You remark sarcastically, waiting for him to step back.

But then, as they cage your head, Zoro’s arms tense up. His expression contorts in discomfort.

“...Zoro?” Raising your hands, you cradle the sides of his face.

“Damn arrows,” He growls. “I think they’re poisoned.”

“What?!” You gasp, ducking under his arm to check his back. You find a wound where an arrow grazed his skin. “Of course you get injured when you don’t wear your armor.”

“Why don’t you try sneaking around in that thing, then?” Zoro argues, but you’re startled when the wound begins to bleed.

“We need to get you treated.” Panicking, you grab his arm and pull him along. He doesn’t budge. “Zoro, we should go.”

“No.” He refuses, hissing in pain all the while. “That bitch won’t let us find a way in here again. Let’s just be quick.”

“...Fine.” You cave, still worried, hating that he’s right. “At least stay still, search the desk. I’ll handle everything else.”

Zoro relents, opening every drawer and scanning every document in them. You turn your attention to the shelves, trying to find hidden compartments or anything that looks remotely suspicious.

It's not long before a loud crash makes you wince. Zoro found something.

A panel beneath the desk detaches, revealing an ornate box. Studying it, you hum, “It looks like we’ll need a key.” Zoro unsheathes one of his blades, cutting through the lock until it cracks open. 

You shake your head. “Or we could do that, sure.”

However, instead of the nefarious plans or blueprints you were hoping for, you find old papers. All of them yellowing with age. 

“It’s your handwriting.” Zoro points out, picking up the first document.

“What?” You lean in, reading the file over his shoulder. It’s a letter written to acknowledge a transfer of money. But the amount is astronomical, and you don’t remember signing anything of the sort.

“Look at the date.” Pointing to the corner, it reads more than ten years ago. And then it clicks, “My mother wrote this.”

“There’s more than one.” Zoro sifts through the papers, counting over ten.

“All of them are addressed to… Shimotsuki Koushirou?” He reads the name slowly. You look at each other, confused. Why would Queen Florentia be sending payments to Kuina’s father?

A tall longcase clock chimes to signal the hour. If you clean up now and review the evidence later, you can make it look like you were never here. You instruct Zoro to pack up the box.

“We should head out soon.” You say, moving to pick up the arrows scattered on the floor. 

“Be careful.” Zoro reminds you.

“I am.” You show him that you’re holding the arrows by their tail ends. “You can go ahead, if you want. Get that wound treated.”

“Do you really think I would leave you?” You can’t help the incredulous look you send his way. 

“...Forget I said anything.”

Back in your chambers, you twirl an arrow you decided to keep as evidence while examining the documents sprawled out on your carpet. 

Zoro grabs it from your hand. “I thought I told you to be careful with that.”

You think aloud as he sets the arrow to the side, “I just can’t figure out why my mother gave Koushirou so much money.”

“Maybe she felt bad about the accident.” Your swordsman suggests. “We all did.”

“But why did she have to keep it quiet…” Mumbling in thought, you read the last receipt Queen Florentia signed. It had been penned the week of her death.

The sky grows darker, and it becomes more difficult to see. Zoro strikes a match to light a few candles, bathing the room in a subtle, warm light.

Beneath the dim, flickering flames, the sharp arrow on your tea table glints ominously. 

It took you a long while to get over spacing out whenever you saw an arrow. It was one of the things that affected you after Kuina’s passing.

Sometimes, you think of how much better everything would be if she was still here. If it weren’t for that—

…accident?

“Zoro?” Your voice is unsteady, “...What do you remember about Kuina’s death?”

“It was some new guy at the training grounds.” He answers, frowning as he recalls what happened. “He misfired, and his knighthood got revoked after that.”

“But,” Memories come flooding back as you try to piece things together. “If the archers were practicing that day, what was Kuina doing in the grounds?”

“Kuina wasn’t in the grounds.” Zoro corrects you. “She was in that meadow we always went to.” 

He points to the view outside, raising a finger to trace the horizon. “The arrow flew through the fence, but it was really dangerous, even—” 

Zoro turns back to you with wide eyes. “Even the queen was almost hit! Holy shit, she was there to observe that day.” 

You blink at him in disbelief, “My mother was the real target.”

“And she didn’t want the culprit to know she realized, which is why she kept quiet about the money.” 

You collapse into a chair as you run your hands over your head. “Did anyone ever check the arrow for poison?”

“No.” Zoro’s face crumples. “She was hit straight in the heart... She wouldn’t have made it even if it wasn’t poisoned.”

“Oh, Kuina…” You choke back a sob, covering your face with both hands. “I’m so sorry it took us this long.”

“Wait.” Zoro calls out your name, taking your hand and kneeling in front of you. The strength of his grip hurts, but you don’t mind it. You need to feel that he’s with you right now; especially when his next question makes your heart fall through the floor.

“How did your mother die?” 

“She—she got sick. A lot of our people got sick that year.” You answer shakily, not liking where this is going. “Do you think…”

“Queen Florentia could have been poisoned.” Zoro whispers. “And I bet that fake bitch was responsible for it. For Kuina’s death too.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” You counter, “Cassiopeia deals with poisons, sure, but she wasn’t even in the kingdom yet then.” 

“...Someone must have betrayed your mother so Cassiopeia could be queen regent.” He suggests, rubbing circles into your palm. “Because isn’t it convenient, how she was there to bring the people together after Her Majesty died?”

It’s confusing how the world seems to have slowed down, and yet your mind is spinning so quickly, you can’t process anything. You squeeze Zoro’s hand to anchor you, but you shatter all the same. 

“I hate everything.” You cry, tears streaming down your face. “I hate how I didn’t know—but we were kids! How were we supposed to know? And, I hate feeling so powerless. What—how, are we going to fix this?”

“We’ll find a way, I promise.” Zoro moves to embrace your form, but you glare at him.

“You. I hate you too.” You push him away weakly, but he doesn’t let you go. “I—I hate that you left, Zoro… You have no idea how lost I was.”

His eyes glisten with tears. “I was lost without you too.”

Zoro feels you melt into his arms. Your strength just vanishes, and you slump forward until your forehead touches his.

“...Don’t leave me then.” You whisper. You beg.

He holds your cheek, wiping your tears with his thumb. “Never.”

The last thing you remember before falling asleep is Zoro pressing the softest kiss to your temple as he tucks you in bed.

Selma barges in the next morning, slamming the (newly repaired) doors open. As you rub the sleep from your eyes, you’re starting to feel sad for the abuse your doors have been going through lately.

“Princess! Your Ladyship! Your Highness—” She stops abruptly, covering her mouth, looking scandalized. What is she so flabbergasted by—

Only then do you see Zoro sleeping on the floor beside you. He’s leaning on the bed, using his forearms as a pillow. One of his hands is intertwined tightly with yours.

“Your Highness!” Selma gasps playfully, gesturing to your mother’s portrait. “Right in front of Her Majesty!”

“Selma,” You sit up, letting go of Zoro’s hand. “Did you have anything important to report?”

“Ah!” She exclaims, face becoming worried once more, “The commander has been imprisoned!”

You curse, shaking Zoro’s shoulder to wake him. “Couldn’t you have told me that first?”

“Forgive me, princess. It’s not everyday I see you holding hands with a man. May I ask who confessed first, Your Highness?”

“Oh my god, Selma.” You groan. “Just go prepare my clothes.”

“Shall I dress you, or will Sir Zoro—”

“Selma!”

If Zoro heard any of Selma’s ramblings, he’s excellent at hiding it. You both get ready in record time. After which, he leads the way to the dungeons; careful to make sure you don’t run into anyone. 

“We can sneak him out through that secret passage we used to play in.” You whisper, your knight nods. 

“When we get to him, break the lock with your dagger. I’ll stand guard in case someone comes over.”

But someone already beat you to Mihawk’s cell. Zoro pulls you into a shadowed corner to hide.

The queen regent paces in front of the bars, her extravagant dress and cape out of place in this gloomy dungeon. 

Mihawk is on the ground, his wrists chained with heavy shackles. Yoru is noticeably missing from his back. Seeing him like this is heartbreaking.

“I should have known you’d help that wench.” Cassiopeia sneers. “You’ll regret not siding with me soon enough, Dracule.”

“Now that you’ve found me out, I can finally ask you to stop calling me that.” Mihawk yawns. “My name always sounded revolting in your voice.” Crazy bastard, will it kill him to try to stay alive?

“But Florentia called you that, didn’t she?” 

Zoro squints at how something about Mihawk changes at the mention of your mother. It’s almost imperceptible, but the air shifts dangerously. The queen regent should watch her mouth.

“Her name sounds revolting in your voice too.”

Cassiopeia scoffs. “You’re just like her. Thinking you’re better than everyone else.”

“Aren’t you talking about yourself?” Mihawk leans back, crossing his legs. “That’s not a good habit, Cassie.”

The queen regent kicks the cell. Mihawk doesn't flinch as she snarls, “I’ll deal with the princess and that knight... I’ll make you watch as the light fades from their eyes.” Gathering her skirt, her heels clack loudly as she stomps away.

As soon as she’s out of earshot, you and Zoro run to the commander.

“Mihawk!” You call out as you stab the lock with your dagger. It crumbles to the ground after a few strikes. “What happened? What did she charge you with?”

“Treason, apparently.” He shrugs, the chains holding him rattling together.

Mihawk goes on as you break his shackles, “This kingdom should be grateful we’re trying at all. We could easily leave them to their own devices—” You frown at him. 

“...But of course, we won’t do that.”

Sneaking into the library, you regroup with Selma; who passes on vital information.

“The queen regent has the palace on lockdown. Everyone has orders to take you in.” She tells you. “But I’ve rallied the staff. We're going to plead your case to the ministers, Your Highness.”

“Thank you. Do you have my mother's letters?” She nods. “Good. Use them well. I'll make sure your efforts will not go to waste.” You say, giving her hands a firm squeeze. 

“Where’s that fake queen now?” Zoro looks eager for a fight.

“One of the butlers said that the queen regent disappears sometimes, and no one knows where she goes.” Selma explains, passing you a note from her source. “There are rumors that she smells like grass when she returns.”

Mihawk lets out a disbelieving laugh, “She must be at the secret garden.”

“The what?” You ask. That sounds exactly like something you would have loved as a child, but why haven’t you heard of it before?

“It’s a place reserved for queens. Only crowned monarchs should be allowed in there, or even know where it is.” He says. “That woman truly doesn’t know her place.”

“Why do you know about it?” Zoro asks.

After a pause, the older swordsman deflects, “I’ve been called a queen once.”

“Mihawk,” You urge him to be serious. “Can you take us there?”

Before he responds, Mihawk looks at you with something you can’t fully discern, as if he’s recalling an old memory.

“Of course. It’s your birthright, after all.”

The entrance to the secret garden is hidden in a passageway beneath the greenhouse. You imagine your mother walking along this path, to a sanctuary she could truly call her own.

But the vision darkens when you think of how Cassiopeia has been using the space all this time. You hope you're still able to recognize traces of your mother when you get there.

An iron gate stands at the end of the path. Vines tangle through the metal spirals and flowers. Mihawk holds a finger to his lips, carefully opening the gates without a sound except for the rustling of leaves. You all crouch behind a large plant that fans out, over your heads.

And then, you see it. You see what your mother left for you.

The centerpiece of the garden is an intricate pedestal, Yoru is propped up against it. On top of it, however, is a glass case displaying your mother’s most treasured golden necklace.

You almost want to run to it, but Zoro grabs your arm, warning you not to take another step. He nods towards where Cassiopeia stands in front of oddly shaped vials and strange devices containing diff chemicals. She douses a sword with an eerie purple liquid as she speaks.

“Three against one... That hardly seems fair.” She kisses her teeth. Looking over her shoulder, she glares. “Why don’t we fight on even ground?”

Out of nowhere, a large cage falls towards the three of you. Mihawk pushes you and Zoro out of the way, but isn’t able to avoid the cage himself.

“And I just escaped. What a shame.” Mihawk fusses, but you can see that he’s relieved you’re alright.

“Maybe you’re meant to be in a cell, Dracule.” Cassiopeia remarks. “I’ll have your kids join you shortly.”

There’s only one of her, this should be easy, right?

She throws a bottle at you. Luckily, you’re able to dodge it. The bottle shatters, its contents spilling over the bystanding greenery. The liquid turns out to be acid, burning through the foliage and leaving a smoky trail. 

Well, fuck.

Zoro also seems to realize how serious this fight is. For the first time since you’ve reunited, he unsheathes Kuina’s sword, placing the hilt in his mouth.

You brandish your dagger as you yell, “Really? You bite it? What would Kuina say?” He sends you a look. You try not to laugh.

And in the next second, you charge at Cassiopeia together.

It’s difficult to get close enough to land a hit. The queen regent leads you in a dance of acids and poisons. You dodge one bottle only to be met with the toxic end of her blade. It seems that your mother’s dagger won’t be enough in this fight.

“I didn't get this far to be stopped by the likes of you!” Shrieking, she lunges at you.

“You will never be queen!” You roar back.

Behind her, your eyes spot Yoru leaning on the pedestal. The blade is large and intimidating, and you’re not entirely sure if you can wield it correctly… But you might not have a choice right now.

As you were distracted, Cassiopeia’s sword almost cuts through your side. Panicking, you stumble backwards. Zoro slashes at your enemy’s wrist. Her hold on the poisoned weapon falters. It plummets with a clang.

While she’s occupied with Zoro, you rush towards Yoru. From behind the bars, Mihawk watches, holding his breath as you wrap both hands around Yoru’s hilt—but the damn thing is too heavy. 

“Dear princess, you should have learned from your mother!” Cassiopeia smashes a bottle on Zoro’s head. “Stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong!”

The glass explodes into countless glittering shards. A red gas escapes into the air, and your knight inhales far too much of it.

He falls, and for that moment, the entire rest of the world vanishes until all you see is him. Your ears start to ring. His grip loosens on his swords. 

No. Please. Not him. Not anyone else. No more.

Mihawk calls your name. You turn to him, on the verge of breaking down. But then, he nods once, slowly. The action reminds you to breathe—filling you with an overwhelming sense of strength. You can do this.

Screaming, you attempt to brandish Yoru again. 

You swing the legendary greatsword in a perfect arc. Once it collides with the ground, the air ripples. Power surges through an invisible force headed straight for the queen regent. She tries to run, but the hit lands.

Her eyes don’t stray from yours as she collapses. In her final moments, she falls from grace, howling in agony and rage. 

As a last ditch attempt, she throws one last vial of acid at Zoro. You’re about to curse the world all over again as you run to stop it.

Mihawk throws a tiny sword like a dart, miraculously breaking the container before it lands on your knight. Your knees give out, and you pull Zoro into your arms as you gasp for air.

It’s done.

Zoro wakes up to the feeling of you checking his temperature. Your hand is warm against his forehead, making him want to reach up and hold it. He should probably wake up and check on you now.

“Oh.” He hears Mihawk speak, “I didn’t realize your relationship took a certain… turn.”

On second thought, another minute of sleep won’t hurt.

“Not you too, Mihawk.” You groan. “I get enough of that from Selma.”

“Ah, yes. I heard.” The swordsman deadpans, “Hand holding. How scandalous.”

“Alright, if you’re not going to be of any help whatsoever, please just go.”

“If you wanted time alone with him, you could have just said so.”

“Goodbye, Mihawk.”

Zoro hears you escort Mihawk out, and he takes the moment alone to open his eyes. He’s in his quarters, which is a few doors down from yours so that he can easily get to you. 

Not that he stays here often, Zoro prefers standing guard outside your chambers. It’s strange how he lasted years without seeing you, because now that you’re back in each other’s lives, he becomes restless whenever you’re not around. 

Like right now. What’s taking you so long?

The door opens. Zoro perks up, but deflates when he sees that it’s Selma bringing in a pitcher of water. 

“You could’ve at least hidden your disappointment better, Sir Zoro.” She huffs at him, taking full offense. “I’ll go get your princess.”

“Oh!” She yelps excitedly, “My bad, it’s queen anointed now, isn’t it?”

Zoro smiles, his voice raspy with sleep, “That has a nice ring to it.”

“Indeed, it does.” Selma nods, bidding him farewell. 

He doesn’t have to wait long to hear your rushing footsteps. The door opens again to reveal you, this time. Your eyes shine in that really pretty way they do when you’re happy. He’s glad that’s among the things that didn’t change.

Zoro opens his arms, inviting you, “Come here.”

Not needing to be told twice, you fall into his arms, burying your face in his chest.

“You’re okay.” You murmur.

“I wasn’t about to miss your coronation, Your Majesty.” Zoro pokes your nose. He did that a lot when you were kids, you forgot how much you liked it.

“Thank you for being okay.” Leaning down, you kiss his cheek softly.

Zoro brushes his fingers through your hair. He holds your face in his hands, tracing your features as if that will help him memorize the happiness he feels in his heart. The sort of happiness he thought was lost to him forever.

“Hey,” Zoro speaks your name with care. “I love you a lot, you know.”

He always envisioned confessing to you in some dramatic, elaborate way that you’d deserve. There could have been a beautiful sunset. He would’ve brought flowers.

But he was wrong. All he needs are the words themselves, and you—smiling the way you’re smiling at him now. 

You laugh, “I might love you more, I think.”

Zoro shakes his head, sitting up so that he can bring his face to yours properly. “Doubt it.”

The kiss tastes like magic, like you were always meant to find each other's lips. His heart starts doing something funny, and he has to pull you closer—hold you tighter. You respond eagerly, kissing him back so intoxicatingly that he’ll remember the softness of your lips for as long as he lives.

Later that week, your coronation is a grand and extravagant affair.

When Cassiopeia's misdeeds came to light, the people banded together to celebrate her downfall. Those loyal to her either surrendered or tried to escape. Although none of them were able to get away, since Zoro and Mihawk were ruthless towards those involved in the attempted mutiny.

The crown on your head will take some to get used to. It still feels like you're borrowing something of your mother's; but instead of shying away from it like you had before, you step into it openly. You're ready to become a successor worthy to carry on her legacy of kindness and strength.

Uncharted these waters may be, at least you have Zoro now, who would dive into any perilous sea right after you.

Escaping the celebratory banquet and the revelries, you visit Queen Florentia and Kuina's graves with Zoro. It's only right that you pay respects together.

You leave flowers on your mother's headstone, thanking her for everything she did. You're startled when Zoro takes one of his swords, holding it in front of him as he kneels in front of the previous queen.

“Your Majesty, Queen Florentia,” He speaks, his tone steady and sure. “I, Roronoa Zoro, vow to never leave your daughter’s side. I will protect her until I draw my last breath. I swear to cherish her, and to love her even in my next life.”

What is he doing, making you cry like this? It turns out that emotional boy you knew is still somewhere in there. Your heart feels full, knowing your mother would have appreciated the gesture.

As you're about to move on to Kuina's grave, Zoro motions for you to go ahead without him. You look at him strangely, but do as he says to give him some space. 

Mihawk emerges from the treeline when you've gone far enough.

“You look like you’re about to leave without saying goodbye.” Zoro remarks.

“Of course you’d know how that works, hm?” Mihawk challenges, raising a sharp brow. “Try even thinking about leaving and I’ll return to make sure it’s your last thought."

“Didn't you just hear the oath I made to the love of your life?” Zoro turns to Florentia's tombstone again. “Your Majesty, back me up here.”

“She would have approved of you.” Mihawk’s frown is unimpressed, but his gaze is unmistakably caring. 

“...Take care of her, Zoro.”

“Of course. I promise.”

As Mihawk walks away, Zoro asks him one last question, “How are your regrets now, old man?”

The former commander’s shoulders shake in a mixture of amusement and relief. “I suspect they'll heal, with time.”

When Zoro catches up to you at Kuina's grave, you're grinning at him. He can picture that same grin on Kuina's face if she were here. 

“We were just talking about you.” You jest, “All bad things, too.”

“You had nothing to talk about, then.” Zoro sits on the grass beside you. “I’m perfect for you.”

Appalled, you scoff and turn to Kuina's headstone. “Can you believe this guy?”

That day, you talked for hours, even after the sun had set. And on the trek back to the palace, a soft breeze caressed your skin. It felt like Kuina encouraging you, sending you off onto the next chapter of your lives.

Zoro becomes Captain of the Royal Guard once Mihawk leaves. He's teaching you about weapons and self defense when he picks up your dagger to inspect it, turning it this way and that curiously.

“Is there something wrong with it?” You ask, observing it too.

“This pattern and material.” Zoro says, tracing a certain swirl on the weapon. “I feel like I've seen it before.”

“Ah,” He says in realization, tracing a finger down your neck and making you shiver. “It’s the pattern on your necklace.”

“My mother must have had them made together.” You say, unclasping the chain before handing it to him.

There's a gap in the center of the pendant. Thin and barely noticeable, but it looks like it can be opened by something sharp.

“Do you mind if I,” Zoro gestures at the dagger.

“Just don't break it.” You say. “Treat it like my heart.”

Zoro makes a face that pulls a laugh out of you. “I would never do this to your heart.” Aw. You might have melted a little.

The tip of the blade slots perfectly into the pendant. After twisting it slowly like a key, the metal clicks to reveal: a locket.

Handing it over to you carefully, Zoro lets you open it the rest of the way. Inside, there are images drawn on two panels. You, as a child on one side… and Mihawk on the other. Now you understand why your mother treasured this so much. Tearing up, you sigh.

“You’re not surprised.” Zoro notes.

“...I think a part of me always knew.” You respond. “And, I definitely felt something when I held Yoru. No wonder why.”

Treading carefully, Zoro wraps his arms around your waist as he asks, “You’re not upset that he left?”

“But he didn’t. He’ll always be there for me, and so will you.” You smile up at him. “I’m happy I found my family again.”

Many years ago…

The grass on the meadow bristles gently in the wind. Dusk bathes the land in a dreamy, gold and purple hue. 

After a day filled with imaginary adventures, two children wave their dearest friend goodbye. The princess smiles at them fondly before returning to the castle.

Kuina grins, face eager as she points her training sword to the sky. “I’ll be her knight someday. I’ll be commander and everything.”

Zoro jolts, immediately expressing in protest, “No, I’ll be the one to protect her! I’ll be commander!”

“Oh yeah?” The girl’s smile turns knowing. She pokes Zoro’s waist with her sword. “How will you do that? Aren’t you going to marry her?”

Stunned, Zoro can only stare at her in response. A blush creeps up his neck, reddening the tips of his ears. Kuina seizes the opportunity to make a run for it.

“Princess, wait up! Zoro wants to tell you something!”

“Kuina! Get back here!”

read the companion piece / my notes / the timeline of this story (in mihawk's perspective) here : "the taste of ale"

© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added to my taglist ♡

tags: @songsofadelaide-archive @ay0nha @amitydoodlez @sweetexistentialism @murnsondock @starszns @msmisasoup @writingmysanity @hotchocolattee @dimplewonie @hearts4zoro @kenkenmaaa @appalost @commanderfreethatdust @onebatch--twobatch @rebeccawinters @gunslxtz @akakaze @lownna

[moonlinos]

A dwindling, mercurial high

♡ Pairing: Bang Chan × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Childhood best friends, angst

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), cheating, both Chan and Reader are morally gray characters, mentions of smoking, drinking, fingering, hand job, unprotected sex

♡ Word count: 10.1k

♡ Synopsis: Despite his love for you since childhood, Chan silently watched from the sidelines as you fell in love with your mutual friend. Your happiness has always been his priority, even at the expense of his own. But he can only endure the pain with a smile on his face for so long. With your growing realization that your fiancé is no longer the man you once loved, his longing to finally escape his torment and confess his feelings becomes unbearable.

♡ A/N: Based off a request by anon! Thank you for requesting 🩷 Cheating is bad, kids, this is fiction. Sorry to my boy Changbin, I used a random wheel to decide who would be the other member 🥲 I’ll focus on lighter stories now ‘cause I feel like this one turned out heavier than I anticipated lol

Chan has known you since he was ten years old.

He’s sure he has been in love with you for just as long.

He wouldn’t be able to give an exact date; loving you has simply always been a part of his life. Your smile that’s engraved in his mind, your laughter he’s memorized, your mind which still fascinates him after so many years — it all wraps around his heart like a vice, making him a willing captive to this one-sided love.

For Chan, love is selflessness; sacrificing anything for the happiness of the one he loves. He doesn’t know anything but loving you, and his unwavering dedication to your happiness has led him to sacrifice his own for years.

Unbeknownst to you, Chan has been withering away slowly as you’ve grown happier.

But your happiness and his unrequited love never truly hurt him until the age of twenty.

It was Minho’s birthday, and he played the best friend card to convince Chan to buy fake IDs from a sketchy guy at their university. Your friend group drove to a deserted parking lot after buying far too much alcohol — Chan remembers the recurring thought inside his fuzzy mind was how much that situation would validate your parents’ scorching hatred for him if they were to find out.

You had your head on his shoulder, sitting on the bed of Minho’s truck, watching as the rest of your friends suffered the consequences of their indulgence. Chan’s face lit up with a smile at the sound of your giggle when Miyeon yelled at Changbin for being so loud, threatening to destroy his beloved girl group albums if he didn’t shut up.

Chan’s emotions always mirrored your own; so long as you had a smile on your face, he swore he could find joy even in the worst situations.

Even when you unknowingly shattered his heart into a million pieces, your happiness still brought him joy.

“I never got around to finishing my story,” you told him, words slurred and voice hoarse from singing at a noraebang earlier that night. “I only said I had a crush, but I never elaborated.”

Chan didn’t want you to elaborate.

But he knew how much you loved talking to him. Be it the weight of your indecision about your path in life or the lightheartedness of your romantic endeavors, you shared everything with him. You always said Chan was the best listener because he knew when his silence was better than any word. He knew that once your heart was set on something, there was no use trying to untangle your mind from the roots of that conviction.

So he hummed, prompting you to continue. “It’s been a while since you had a crush.”

“It sounds so lame, doesn’t it?” You scoffed, “Aren’t we too old for crushes?”

“No one’s ever too old for that,” he shrugged. “I think if you don’t allow yourself these light-hearted feelings, love will only become heavy. That’s never good.”

You placed your hand in his, playing with his fingers as a smile spread across your lips. Chan always hoped you couldn’t hear the way his heart thumped loudly against his chest whenever you touched him. 

“You’re so weirdly wise for your age.”

“And you’re so weirdly avoiding the subject,” Chan pointed out. “Come on, you never hesitated telling me shit like this. Hell, you proudly admitted to your crush on that old ass teacher when we were sixteen.”

You sat up straight, groaning at the unwelcome memory, and Chan huffed a laugh at the pout on your lips.

“I know, it’s just…”

“Just?”

“It’s someone you know,” you offered, and Chan furrowed his brows.

“That wouldn’t be a first.”

He noticed the way your hands tensed up, their grip on his fingers tightening and fidgeting nervously. You were anxious, and Chan wasn’t sure he wanted to know the reason why.

“It’s someone from our group.”

The way he froze was obvious, and your hands stilled on top of his. To this day, he hates everything about that moment: how you were so apprehensive about sharing something so trivial with him, how he selfishly felt a twinge of jealousy, and most importantly, how he could tell you were upset.

Chan promptly put aside his own feelings, having mastered this skill to the point where he could effortlessly do it. You seemed happy whenever you mentioned this crush, and he didn’t want to be the reason that happiness faded away. He laced your fingers together and offered you a smile, hoping you would reciprocate the gesture. You did, and he felt his chest blossoming with a blend of relief and melancholy.

“It’s Changbin,” you confessed, and Chan’s face remained unchanged. His smile didn’t so much as falter at your words. It often scared him how easy it had become to feign something as significant as his own emotions when it came to you. “I don’t know when it started, but I just… I really like him.”

Chan had seen you go through a couple of short-lived relationships and countless crushes that usually led nowhere; the sting of seeing you infatuated with someone else was an ache he’d long grown accustomed to. He often struggled to understand why your heart had chosen to love the people it did. It was easy to tease you and cope with the hurt when Chan knew it was only a matter of time before you realized you deserved more.

But that situation was different. This time, he could understand. Changbin was one of his best friends, after all. How would he endure the hurt when he knew Changbin was practically a mirror image of your ideal type? He was always in a good mood, always fun to be around and never failed to make anyone laugh. Chan had no doubts about how he would bend his back just to care for his friends — the day he failed his first class at university, Changbin paid his bill at the bar and carried a drunken, crying Chan home on his back.

Unlike it had been with Chan for the past ten years, your parents immediately fell in love with Changbin.

As he heard you eagerly talk about your crush on your friend that night, Chan kept his facade of the perfect best friend. His laughter and words perfectly matched your enthusiasm. Among the rain of anguish, the drop of bliss that fell onto his heart as he saw you smile again, your worry thoroughly gone, was enough to soothe his aching heart.

Because Chan’s emotions mirrored your own, and so he made it his mission to make you happy.

Even if it was with someone else.

Chan never would have guessed that you and Changbin would go beyond a simple crush.

He never would have believed if he was told your relationship would evolve beyond just hooking up.

And never in his wildest dream did he imagine that you would become engaged to him.

Yet, here he sits, six years after initially finding out about your crush, helping you choose flower arrangements for your wedding.

“I think Bin would definitely want some pink flowers,” you comment with a hum, the florist nodding along with a smile. Chan holds back a sigh. “But wouldn’t that look weird with the light blue theme?”

“I think blue and pink go great together!” The florist assures you, her excitement palpable when she starts rambling about different shades and flowers that would beautifully complement your dream wedding dress.

Chan zones out, blurry eyes focused on a single red rose that rests on the wooden table. He was understandably taken aback when you chose him as your man of honor. Miyeon had always been your closest female friend, so it was only natural that he assumed you would choose her as the maid of honor. Despite disapproval from both you and Changbin’s families, you remained unwavering in your decision. Chan knew you better than anyone in the world, you argued, therefore he was the best possible choice. The sentiment was sweet, but it didn’t lessen the ache in his heart.

As if watching you marry another man wasn’t punishing enough, he now had to help you plan the ceremony.

Your laughter brings him back to the present moment, and he quickly rises from his chair, realizing you’re already heading towards the door. Chan clears his throat, shooting the florist a small smile before walking out with you.

As soon as you step onto the streets, you ask, “You were spacing out the entire time, weren’t you?”

Chan feigns offense, clutching at his chest. “What? Of course not!” He shakes his head, and you let out a chuckle. “I was totally paying attention. Blue dress, pink flowers. I got it all memorized, don’t worry.”

“So you noticed how she was shamelessly ogling you the entire time, right?”

Absentmindedly, Chan cocks his head to the side, furrowing his brows in confusion. You narrow your eyes at him, and his expression immediately shifts into a grin.

“Ah, that. Yeah, I noticed,” he shrugs. “It was your choice to have me as your man of honor.”

You bump your shoulders together, chuckling. “I guess I should’ve known. Since you’re not my fiancé, you’ll have to endure a lot of women flirting with you.”

As your words hit him, Chan clenches his jaw, suppressing the foolish pain that wells up in his chest. He is not your fiancé; he is well aware of that, but he can’t help the sharp twinge of hurt that washes over him whenever you remind him of that fact.

He silently drives you to the gym that he and Changbin opened two years ago. It was a last-ditch effort to create something that was their own rather than succumbing to a soulless office job. Starting out in a small rundown house on a sketchy street, with barely any money for proper equipment, they could never have predicted how perfectly everything would work out.

As Chan parks in front of the building, you beam while taking the notes from the florist out of your bag, eager to share them with Changbin. You two scour the gym from top to bottom, but he’s nowhere to be found. Upon asking their receptionist, they’re informed that Changbin had left a couple of hours earlier, not giving further explanations. Chan hates the familiar sight of your smile dropping, your excitement ebbing away as you carefully tuck away your notes into your bag.

Changbin has become unusually distant lately — not only toward you but everything in general. He rarely sets foot in the gym nowadays, only popping in to ensure everything is in order before hurriedly rushing off to who knows where. Chan hopes it’s only the pre-wedding nerves getting to him, and not something that will leave you shattered and heartbroken on what is supposed to be the happiest day of your life.

But that’s all he can do — cling to that hope.

Because, deep down, Chan’s mind is filled with worries that run deeper than he will ever let on. Changbin has always been an absurdly impulsive person. The fear that his friend might be regretting his decision to propose is always lingering in the back of his mind, like a persistent echo, tormenting him and gradually eroding his heart.

He doesn’t know if he can bear to see you hurt.

He certainly doesn’t want to think about what he would do if Changbin ever dared to break your heart.

Chan hates the way you easily brush off your disappointment even more, turning to flash a bright smile at him as soon as the notes are out of your sight.

“I’ll just see him at home later tonight anyway,” you simply say. “There’s no rush.”

Over the past months, Chan has seen you dismiss your own feelings regarding your fiancé countless times, so much so that he can’t even count them on one hand. From Changbin’s constant broken promises to his complete indifference toward anything related to his own wedding, the way it upsets you is evident. Still, your dismissal of it all makes him hesitant to even mention it.

Helplessly, he can’t do anything but watch, just as he has been doing for the past six years.

A week later, the sound of the doorbell jolts Chan awake at 2 a.m.

Right after getting home from the gym, he collapsed onto the couch and dozed off before he realized. All the work he had to tackle alone left him drained. It was yet another day when Changbin vanished in the late afternoon without so much as an excuse.

Chan rushes toward the door, expecting an emergency, only to find you standing alone in the dimly lit hallway. His initial reaction was confusion; you had a spare key, after all. But as the light from his apartment hits your face, red-rimmed, teary eyes meet his own, and Chan instinctively wraps his arms around you. 

You two remain in a silent embrace for a while, with Chan selfishly reveling in the feeling of your body pressed against his. Despite your vulnerable state, he can’t help but run a hand down your back, savoring your warmth and intoxicating scent that surrounds him.

You used to hold each other frequently when you were young, thinking nothing of it and simply seeking comfort in each other’s arms. But as you entered your late teens, the tension between you became almost palpable. You no longer sought his arms solely for comfort, and that was obvious to Chan. It was obvious because he was the same. Innocent hugs evolved into wandering hands and limbs tangling in ways that were anything but platonic.

At that time, he almost thought he had stood a chance.

Until graduation day, when you two hid away inside an empty classroom, with you sat on a desk and Chan slotted between your thighs, holding you against his chest as you cried. You were always terrified of change, and school ending was an unavoidable one that had been looming over your head for a while until it snapped.

That day, you almost kissed him, your lips mere inches from his as he gripped your waist nervously, his eyes foolishly fluttering closed in anticipation.

But you pulled away, pushing him back with a whispered apology.

After that day, that habit Chan loved so much slowly faded away.

Chan hates how he has every curve of your body memorized, but rarely has the privilege of feeling you this close to him anymore.

You pull away abruptly, much like you did when you were eighteen, clearing your throat and entering his apartment without uttering a word.

Closing the door behind him, he joins you on the couch, where you sit nervously, bouncing your leg.

“What happened?” He asks, although deep down, he already knows the answer. Your only answer is a half-hearted shrug, so Chan hesitantly continues, “Is this about the wedding?”

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes well up, but you swiftly blink away any tears that threaten to spill over. Once again, Chan takes your dismissal of your own emotions as a sign for him to keep quiet.

Except this time, you don’t.

“Changbin asked to postpone the wedding,” you simply tell him.

A surge of anger washes over Chan like a tidal wave, pushing him to walk out of his apartment right now just to punch his friend in the jaw. You’re sad — Changbin made you sad. No matter how hard Chan tries or how much he sacrifices, moments like these always serve as a sour reminder that your happiness isn’t solely dependent on him.

He despises these moments.

“I feel like he’s so different. Even before proposing,” you murmur, lowering your head and focusing on your nails, nervously picking at your chipped nail polish. “We hardly ever go on dates and he never makes jokes or does silly shit to make me laugh anymore. I know it’s stupid and even a bit selfish, but I miss those things.”

You let out a heavy sigh and slowly looked up to meet Chan’s gaze. He silently wishes he could absorb all the hurt you feel.

“That’s the man that made me want to stay for six years, and he’s just… gone.”

Chan nervously gnaws on his bottom lip, as if that will consume the words in his throat before they slip out. But these words have been lingering on the tip of his tongue for over five months. Ever since you gathered your little friend group in your living room on a rainy Sunday evening, beaming as you and Changbin announced your engagement.

Tonight, these unspoken words finally escape his lips.

“Why did you accept the proposal, then?” He asks softly.

You let out a bitter scoff and sink lower into his couch.

“Guess I thought that man would magically come back the moment I said yes. But he didn’t,” you shake your head. “So I ignored it, assured myself he would come back once I said ‘I do’. Now, I’m not even sure…” You trail off, pursing your lips as the sentence dissipates into the air.

He remembers the early years of your relationship with Changbin. You would call Chan just to swoon over his charming personality and jokingly scold him for keeping your boyfriend at the gym until late at night. He recalls how you used to melt at his sweet gestures, like bringing you a cup of coffee after your shift or carrying you up to your apartment when you dozed off in the car. A few months ago, he noticed your avoidance whenever Changbin was brought up, and your usual long-winded stories about him were now replaced with short answers.

But he remained quiet, like he’d always done.

A few minutes pass before you speak again, and your words strike him like an unexpected left hook, knocking the air out of his lungs.

“I thought about ending things a lot,” you confess, “When I noticed this change wasn’t wavering, I was ready to leave.”

“But you didn’t,” Chan counters.

Your lips curl into a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes as you slowly nod. “But I didn’t,” you simply say. “I was afraid of what that would do to our friend group. It’s stupid, right?” You rhetorically ask.

When your gazes meet, your eyes are devoid of any emotion, a stark contrast to the usual spark he’s always loved. It’s as if you’ve abandoned any hope you had left inside of you, and his heart sinks.

“I didn’t want things to change because of me.”

Chan sighs. “You shouldn’t sacrifice your own happiness for the sake of others,” he tells you, and the irony isn’t lost on him. He inwardly grimaces, because isn’t that exactly what he has been doing for most of his life?

But it’s different, he rationalizes. It’s different because it’s you.

“You know me, Chan,” you huff out, wrapping your arms around yourself as frustration slowly consumes you. “I hate making people sad, hate knowing things are worse because of me.”

That’s just another of the many things Chan hates — how fucking similar you and he are.

“That’s why everybody says you shouldn’t date your friends, huh?” You let out a bitter scoff. “It never works out. Just fucks everything up.”

Chan bites down on his bottom lip so hard he swears he tastes blood on his tongue.

“That’s not always the case,” he’s quick to add. “Remember when Jun and Miyeon dated? They broke up and things were awkward for a while but—”

“They were together for a few months, Chan, not six years,” you interrupt him with a scowl. “If Changbin and I had broken up, our little group would’ve been just as affected as us. People would pick sides, try to place the blame on someone, and things would inevitably change.”

“Things are bound to change at some point,” he reasons. “We’re not in college anymore.”

Chan is certain there’s something more stopping you from ending your relationship, but he’s afraid you’re also unsure of that reason.

“I love Changbin,” you suddenly say, turning your body to face Chan. “This is stupid, I’m sorry I came here in the first place. He’s just stressed, he’s gonna come back one day—”

“Stop talking like that,” Chan cuts you off, voice louder than he intended. You slowly tilt your head to the side, eyeing him with confusion. “Stop talking like Changbin isn’t here, like he’s distant because he has no choice. He hasn’t gone anywhere. He’s still here, and he’s still distant.”

You divert your eyes, focusing on a spot behind Chan, making him wonder if he crossed a line. When the seconds tick by and you remain silent, he braces himself to watch you leave.

Instead, you whisper, “I know.”

“I would never treat you like this,” he absentmindedly says, his own eyes wandering aimlessly around his living room, looking anywhere but at you. If he tries hard enough, he can almost pretend that he isn’t saying these words to you, that he isn’t essentially confessing his repressed feelings to his best friend, who is already engaged. “Would never propose to you and have you plan the fucking wedding only to ask you to postpone it,” he lets out a scoff, his face contorting with disdain. “Fuck off. Postpone it? Changbin’s a coward.”

“I feel so alone,” you admit, seemingly ignoring his unprompted soliloquy. “You know I hate feeling alone. If I were to end things with Changbin now, after all these years, I know this loneliness would kill me.”

And you’re right; Chan knows better than anyone how much you hate feeling alone. Whenever your parents had to leave for business trips or vacations, you would seek refuge at his house to avoid being alone. When your roommate kicked you out of your dorm during university, you begged him to sleep with you in the study area so you wouldn’t be alone in the dark.

The thought of you spending your days alone in your apartment and sleeping by yourself at night makes Chan feel as if his heart is being trampled on.

“You’re not alone. I’m here,” he assures you, his eyes finally lifting to meet your gaze. “I’ve been here since we were kids, and I’m not going anywhere.”

A giggle suddenly escapes from your lips, and your hand rests on his arm. Your gaze shifts to where your fingers delicately trace patterns on the sleeve of his shirt.

“Remember when we were thirteen? We promised to get married if we were still alone when we were adults.”

Chan nods slowly, and an uneasy feeling washes over him. It’s been years since you’ve been this physically close to him, toying with the fabric of his shirt and saying words that foolishly make him think you might be flirting with him. Why must you bring this up now? Now, when you’re certainly not alone, but very much engaged to one of your mutual friends.

“I feel like every childhood friend makes that silly promise,” he tries to deflect, a forced chuckle leaving his lips. Nevertheless, the small smile on your lips lingers as you dismissively shrug at his words.

“It wasn’t silly to me,” you argue. “I meant it. Especially when I realized you were the only one who always stayed, even when everyone else seemed to leave me.”

He only now realizes how you’ve inched even closer to him, your foot softly brushing along his leg and your fingertips now delicately gliding along his arms, causing goosebumps to ripple across his skin. The small voice of reason inside his already clouded mind desperately urges him to back away, but his body refuses to move.

And then you gently intertwine your fingers with his and finally meet his eyes. Chan instinctively closes the small distance between you, his shoulder brushing against yours as you shift on the couch to throw your legs over his lap like you used to do when you were kids — except now, the gesture is anything but innocent, the air almost suffocating Chan with a looming sense of anticipation.

“Y’know, my mom was so happy when I told her I was dating Changbin,” you huff out a laugh at the memory, and Chan’s lips twitch into a small scowl. Although you speak as though this is news to him, he’s fully aware of what you’re referring to. He was sitting in your bedroom with you the day you told your mom. He knows what you’re alluding to, and he knows it’s wrong, but he finds himself simply nodding along to your words. “She was laughing about how scared she was that I would pick you. She was so sure we would end up together, and she hated it.”

It was never a secret how much your parents disliked Chan, although he never understood their reasons. Your mom always treated him with just enough feigned kindness that it wasn’t a glaring disdain, but you were quick to tell him all the things they would whisper behind his back.

Chan gently brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingertips then gliding along your face, tracing a path from the curve of your ear to your cheek. His eyes carefully follow his movements, and you suck in a breath, leaning into the touch.

“I also kind of hoped for that,” he mutters, barely audible.

“I’m so lonely, Chan,” you whisper back, and he feels every corner of his heart shatter into a million little pieces. The way your eyes glisten with unshed tears in the dim lighting of his living room finally has his resolve crumbling.

“You’re not alone,” he reiterates. “I’m here.”

Before he can stop himself, Chan closes the small distance between you and crashes his lips to yours. Just as guilt begins to course through his veins, you tug at his shirt, pulling him even closer until you ultimately climb onto his lap. Chan’s lips delicately brush against yours at first, but the kiss soon grows feverish. His hunger for you has been building inside of him for an eternity, and now that he’s finally tasted you, the all-consuming desire to have you overrides any remaining rationality in his mind.

His tongue glides along the seam of your lips before slipping into your mouth, and he all but growls at the feeling. Your fingers tighten their grip on his shirt, digging into the fabric while you let out the sweetest sound Chan has ever heard.

You slowly grind in his lap, and his hands grip your hips tightly, his cock twitching even at the soft movement. A surge of clarity washes over him, and he wonders how something this wrong can feel so good. Wonders why Changbin was lucky enough to have you like this whenever he wanted, while he was left to pine and yearn for years.

“What are we doing?” He asks between kisses, and you let out a shuddering sigh, shaking your head.

You whisper, “I don’t know. Just want you.”

A small part of Chan wants to push you away, knowing you’re simply seeking solace in him, desperately searching in him for what you no longer have with Changbin. But a bigger part of him has been yearning to have you for far too long to refuse your request.

He drowns out every faint whisper of reason in his head and slots his lips over yours once more, your soft moans traveling straight to his cock. Slipping your hands underneath his shirt, your palms raise toward his chest, nails lightly grazing his skin before trailing down the tense muscles of his abdomen. Chan whines when your fingertips brush against his clothed cock, already achingly hard in the confines of his pants. It was almost pitiful how effortlessly you made him desperate, his thoughts consumed with only you.

You break the kiss to pull down the straps of your dress, unhurriedly, eyeing him with a grin while he watches the thin fabric pool around your thighs.

“Y’know I always wondered what it’d be like,” you breathe out, and Chan’s lips fall open as you gently palm him through his sweatpants. “Always thought about what it’d feel like to have you fuck me.”

“Fuck,” he rasps out, cock swelling further in your hands when you squeeze his length. “Don’t say shit like that.”

You simply giggle, and Chan lets out a low groan, grinding his hips into your hand, desperately seeking more friction. He doesn’t want to think about the weight of that statement — not when your fingertips brush against his lower stomach, teasingly toying with the waistband of his sweatpants before finally pushing it down, gripping his cock in your hand. Chan hisses, his hold on your hips tightening while you glide your hand along his length, finding a slow, tantalizing rhythm as you begin to stroke him.

He feels as if his hands are tied by silent guilt, as if touching you any more will somehow make everything too real. But you press your lips to his like it’s second nature, swirling your tongue in his mouth just as your thumb swipes across his slit, gathering a drop of precum before smearing it down his shaft. It’s too much, and Chan groans into the kiss, finally allowing himself to touch you.

Carefully, his hands travel from your hips up to your stomach, caressing the soft skin. The way you feel underneath his fingertips has him drunk with lust, like a flood of long-awaited desire and longing finally being released.

“Touch me,” you whisper, words almost muffled by his lips. “Please.”

And Chan’s never been able to deny you.

His fingers skim over your breasts, trembling hands squeezing through the delicate lace of your bra. Your body eagerly responds to his touch, your nipples pebbling beneath his hands and a soft sigh falling from your lips. It feels like heaven to know that he’s the one coaxing these sounds out of you, and it’s enough to snuff out any trace of guilt Chan had remaining inside of him. As he pinches your nipples, rolling them gently between his fingertips, a surge of pleasure shoots through your body, making you jerk on his lap, your grip on his cock tightening.

Chan grins. “I thought about it too,” he admits, words softly whispered as he leans closer and presses his forehead against yours. “Thought about fucking you so much it almost drove me insane.”

These confessions are only half-surprising if Chan were completely honest with himself. He knew exactly where his mind wandered whenever you two got tangled up in his bed when you were teens, and he convinced himself you were the same. At that time, it was merely an attempt to alleviate the guilt he felt for having those thoughts about you.

But this confirmation was all he needed to truly surrender to his selfish hunger.

His hand slowly moves down your stomach, edging closer and closer to your panties. Your eyes remain locked on his, your heavy breathing brushing against his lips when his fingers tentatively slip beneath the soft fabric.

“Can I?” He whispers, and you nod, stroking him almost feverishly as your eyes become completely lust-clouded.

Chan’s fingers slide between your slick folds, a guttural moan reverberating through his chest, his cock twitching under your fingers.

“Holy shit, you’re soaking wet,” he groaned, his thumb softly pressing down on your clit, causing you to grind your hips into his hand.

“Chan,” you breathe out.

Your once deliberate strokes fizzled out into languid touches, but Chan couldn’t bring himself to care. Not when you were this fucking wet, all because of him.

“Tell me what you want,” he hums, pressing a small kiss to your open lips. He grins when your only response is a whine, rolling your hips forward once more. “Tell me.”

“Want you, Chan,” you choke out, “Want anything you wanna give me.”

Chan bites back a growl, slowly sliding a finger inside of you, your walls greedily clenching around it while your hips begin rocking in his lap, his thumb circling your clit. He can feel your arousal coating his finger, curling the digit before pulling away only to push back in again, two fingers now gently pumping in and out of you.

Pressing his lips to your throat, Chan grapples with the overwhelming need to mark you, bite and suck on your sensitive skin until it bloomed in hues of red and purple when you moaned so sweetly for him. The thought of Changbin coming home only to find you claimed by him had Chan groaning against the pulse of your neck, his cock throbbing in your hand just as your palm languidly circles the swollen head.

“Wanna make love to you,” he murmurs against your skin, leaving soft kisses up your throat until his lips are pressing against yours. Love — as if this was anything like love. “I need to,” he all but begs, and you hastily nod, tugging his shirt over his head and crashing your lips together.

Chan pushes your body down onto the couch, his heavy-lidded eyes dark like the shadows that covered his living room as he stares down at you. He’s wanted this for so long, dreaming and fantasizing about it to the point of pitifulness. Yet now, he hesitates. It’s almost as if everything else you have done tonight could be forgotten — maybe even forgiven — but the moment the images from his daydreams stumbled out into the real world, everything would truly be ruined.

“Chan,” your voice brings him back to the moment, his gaze softening at the way you looked up at him. “Don’t overthink this.”

He bends his face to yours, huffing out a breath. “It’s kinda hard not to.”

“Worry about tomorrow when tomorrow comes,” you whisper, and Chan smiles. He slides a hand through your hair, brushing a stray piece from your eyes.

His focus is quickly brought back to the scorching heat of his cock resting against your lower stomach, precum dripping from the tip and gathering on your skin. Gently brushing against your lower lip with the pad of his thumb, he fits himself between your open thighs, and you press a chaste kiss to his fingertip.

Chan effortlessly lifts you, blunt nails sinking into the soft skin of your ass as he watches you slide your panties down your thighs before he aligns your hips with his. He glides his cock along your folds, teasing your clit with each movement. The heat from your arousal coating him seems to sear into his skin, and he immerses himself in his desire even deeper. He carefully studies your features when you squeeze his shoulders, eyes tracing a slow path down your face, and Chan is certain he wouldn’t mind waging a war against every inconvenient obstacle that kept him from seeing that glint of bliss on your eyes every day.

His tip grazes your entrance as he pulls back, lips tracing along your skin before slowly pushing into you. As much as Chan wants to take his time, savor the experience and explore every inch of your body until it becomes seared into his memory, he knows he won’t be able to do that tonight. Years of yearning and longing finally came pouring out, consuming him with the want to selfishly chase this long-desired feeling.

When his hips meet yours, he takes your hand in his, guiding it to press on your lower abdomen. Your lips fall open slightly, the feeling of his cock pressing against your belly causing your eyes to flutter shut, and Chan’s arousal becomes almost unbearable. It was almost like a false testament, fooling him into believing you were finally one, even though it was nothing but a pretty lie.

“We’re a perfect fit. Shit,” Chan hisses, your inner muscles clenching around him at his words.

His thumb pressed firmly against your throbbing clit as he began rolling his hips, falling into a gentle and steady tempo. Your legs wrap around his body, hips rolling up and silently urging him to move faster, matching the rhythm of his unspoken longing. 

“Chan, please,” your voice chokes out. You intertwine your fingers together, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, eyes looking at him almost pleadingly. “Need you to fuck me.”

He snaps at your soft plea, pulling back and thrusting into you harshly, barely retreating from your wetness before plunging back in. Your nails dig into his skin, scoring lines down his chest while your other hand squeezes his. Chan winces at the sting but revels in the fact that you’re marking him — something he could only ever dream of doing to you.

He reluctantly lets go of your hand to firmly grasp your ass, forcefully lifting your hips to draw you even closer to him, fingernails etching crescent moons into your soft skin in an almost petulant attempt at claiming you as his. At least for tonight. Chan’s thumb rubs circles around your clit, bringing you closer to the edge of your orgasm. His grip on your skin tightens, pulling your body toward him almost desperately. His thrusts soon grow sloppy, his once deliberate rhythm long forgotten as his control quickly ebbs away.

“Got no idea what you do to me,” Chan grunts, pressing his forehead to yours. “If you were mine— fuck,” He hisses when you clench around him at his words — at the idea of being his. “I’d be so good to you. Fuck you like this every night.”

You attempt to call out his name, but the sound dies at your throat with a whine. Looking for purchase among his forceful thrusts, your hands travel up his chest and clutch at his shoulders with a tight grip.

“Then fuck me like I’m yours,” you choke out, hooking your ankles behind him to keep him as close to you as possible. Chan’s only response is a low, guttural growl, which is soon swallowed by your sighs as he crashes his lips into yours.

You arch your back, breaking the kiss with a cry, muscles tightening while Chan continues to plunge into you at a merciless rhythm. Your cunt throbs around his length, the relentless pressure of his finger on your clit sending shivers of euphoria through your entire body, drawing out your climax. Chan feels lightheaded, the beautiful sight of your orgasm enough to drive him to the edge.

As his cock twitches inside of you, he reluctantly leans back, rising to his knees and wrapping his fingers around his length, stroking himself over your body while you watch him with half-lidded eyes. A low sound rumbles within Chan’s chest as his hips jerk against his fist. His release spills from his cock and paints your stomach with milky streaks of his cum, finally marking you as his.

At least for tonight.

Even though it’s nothing but a pretty lie.

As you wake up, the unfamiliar sensation of sunlight streaming through the window hits your tired eyes. Panic washes over you for a beat as you take in the feeling of an unfamiliar bed, but a familiar scent soon envelops you, instantly soothing you. Not waking up alone also feels unfamiliar, but it’s a welcomed unfamiliarity. You turn your body towards the person next to you, and you’re greeted by Chan, peacefully asleep with a small smile on his lips. A grin slowly spreads across your face too.

It had been so long since you were this close to him, even longer since you woke up beside him. Sleepovers were common during your childhood, but they naturally stopped as you grew older. You were nineteen the last time you lied next to Chan like this, drunk on cheap beer and cramped next to him on a worn-out couch of some fraternity house. You remember how his chest slowly rising and falling somehow felt like home, and how his soft snores lulled you into sleep.

Your love for Chan has always been greater than you’ve let on.

Your vicious need to please those around you hindered your ability to express how much you loved him. Your parents hated him since you were fifteen. Catching Chan smoking with a group of boys from your school behind the mall cemented their opinion of him. Despite his ‘bad influence’, they reluctantly allowed your friendship to continue, with the condition that you wouldn’t be swayed by his bad ways.

If only they knew what you did last night.

If only they knew how you were the one to incite him, letting your own bad ways tarnish him.

As your eyes flutter closed, memories of the night before flood your mind; Chan’s hands on your body, his hungry kisses, and the way he fucked you until you felt intoxicated. But the feeling of bliss swirling in your chest quickly dissipates, replaced by the weight of guilt, crushing your ribs and knocking the air from your lungs. Your eyes snap open, and you sit up on the bed with a shuddering sigh. Even the feeling of Chan’s clothes clinging to your body makes you feel dirty.

Beside you, Chan groans, your sudden movements having disturbed his sleep.

“What time is it?” He rasps out. The sound of his voice alone nearly makes you flinch. As his fingertips graze your arm, you instinctively withdraw as if his touch scorched your skin. Chan sits up as well. “What’s wrong?”

You almost scoff at his words.

“Nothing,” you lie, throwing the covers off your body. You frantically search his bedroom until your eyes land on your dress draped over a chair.

You take off Chan’s shirt in haste, spitefully throwing the fabric on the floor as though it embodied your every sin. As if removing it from your body would somehow absolve you from what you chose to do last night. Just as you reach to undo the drawstrings of his sweatpants, his touch lingers on your skin again. You can’t help but flinch once more.

“Hey, calm down. Please, talk to me,” Chan’s soft voice only intensifies the anguish in your chest.

“Don’t touch me,” you mumble, tears gathering in your eyes as remorse gathers in your throat until it feels as if you’re suffocating. Chan removes his hands from your arm but remains beside you. “What the fuck did we do? We betrayed his trust, we betrayed…” you trail off, because you can’t even bring yourself to say Changbin’s name out loud. Finally, you turn to face Chan, shaking your head in disbelief. “He’s our friend. He’s my fucking fiancé.”

Chan stays silent. Tears stream out of your eyes, cascading down your cheeks and onto the floor. Your shoulders tremble, and each breath you take cannot fill your lungs enough to ease the weight on your chest. Chan stands in front of you, his tear-filled eyes mirroring his own heartbreak, evident in every corner of his face. He reaches out to you several times, but his hands only clench into fists and drop by his sides every time.

He helplessly watches as your tears fall over something that was a choice. A momentary bliss, a whim that has proven to be unnecessary, even though your feelings for Chan have always gone beyond platonic. How you wish you could go back in time and prioritize your own happiness instead of constantly sacrificing it for the sake of others. But you can’t, and the once beautiful love you had for Chan now only feels tainted.

He watches you silently, unmoving until you finally swallow enough tears to choke out, “Please hold me.”

And Chan does, cold hands wrapping around your trembling body as fresh tears pour out of your eyes, cascade down your cheeks and onto his shirt.

  You cry the entire afternoon, guilt becoming a ghost that haunts you as you pad around Chan’s apartment. Yet you can’t bring yourself to leave his side. Soon, his clothes stopped feeling like a vice tightening around your neck and transformed into a soothing embrace.

The only words you exchange are over cold leftover pizza. Chan says it’s best to just pretend the previous night never even happened. You’re quick to tell him you don’t want that.

“It was a mistake,” he quietly told you.

“It was a choice,” you corrected him. “And I’m happy I did it.”

And that’s the worst part of it all; you don’t regret having sex with Chan. You regret the cheating, the pain this would cause Changbin if he knew, and you especially dread the scrutiny you would face if people were to find out. But not even for a second do you feel any regret about Chan.

Before you know it, it’s already dark out. You find yourself staring out the window, pulling at the hem of Chan’s shirt that still hugs your frame.

You don’t want to go back home.

Four messages from Changbin apologizing for not coming home last night greet you every time you unlock your phone.

Changbin: hey baby, sorry Changbin: there was a huge fight at the bar, seungmin was bloody on the floor before i knew it Changbin: had to stay and take care of him after i took him home Changbin: i’m so sorry. i’ll make it up to you. love you

You ignore them every time. You don’t feel bad about it.

“I don’t wanna go back home,” you mumble to yourself. Behind you, Chan hums softly.

It feels like an eternity before he finally breaks the silence.

“Then don’t go.”

So you don’t.

Time slips away from your hands, and suddenly a week has gone by. You stay at Chan’s apartment, working from his computer, eating his food, and wearing his clothes. He makes love to you and you sleep in his bed every night.

You avoid every mirror and close every curtain as if that will shield you from your sins.

For so much time, it felt as if you were crawling through endless days, constantly brushing aside the things that upset you, things you fruitlessly wished you could change. All while forcing a smile that long stopped being sincere. This week, your smile was tightly bound to a warmth in your heart that had been absent for far too long.

Cooped up inside Chan’s apartment like a fugitive from your own mistakes, you were finally happy.

You have always lived a life driven by the desire to please others. From the university you attended to the man you chose to be with; everything was carefully thought out to ensure the happiness of those around you. Was it a wonder you were so soulless?

Is it a wonder you found bliss in doing something so selfish for the first time in your life? Every time Chan touched you, it was like a small light was ignited inside you.

Changbin’s messages sat unread in your phone; the only ones he sent you the entire week. 

  You chose to return home the day your mother called you to ask about the wedding. Chan drove you in silence while you clutched his hand.

As soon as you step into your apartment, it’s as if all the light Chan brought back into your life the past week is snuffed out. You glance around the dark living room, your eyes then traveling toward your bedroom, only being met by more darkness. Seems your fiancé still hasn’t come back.

Changbin going to that bar was the catalyst for your spiral of mistakes. He’s often gone to bars, and you never thought much of it, until he started prioritizing his time with his friends over time with you. That night, you had asked him to stay in for a change, suggesting you could watch a movie and order too much food like you used to do when you first moved in together. He said he would love that, but that night was really important. Apparently, Jisung needed help chatting up the bartender, and that was crucial in his road to getting over his ex. Apparently, that was more important than spending time with you.

You were arguing before you knew it. Although you did most of the talking, so it felt more like a helpless monologue than a proper fight. Changbin hated fights, and had mastered the art of dismissing things and never addressing them again. He was out the door right after nonchalantly asking you to postpone the wedding.

“I’m not in the right headspace to deal with shit like that now,” he’d said, and you scoffed at how he referred to your wedding.

“Flower arrangements, color schemes, guest lists… I’d rather do anything else but that right now. My friends need me,” Changbin continued after you remained silent, because you knew you would only end up arguing with him again if you were to speak. He spoke as if you didn’t need him.

“Jisung is finally taking the steps to get over that shitty ex of his and you know Chan can’t run the gym without me,” were the last words he muttered before pressing a kiss to your forehead and leaving you alone for yet another night.

The mention of his name was all it took for you to run out the door and into Chan’s apartment.

After dragging yourself toward your bathroom for a quick shower, you berate yourself for feeling disappointed in the feeling of your own pajamas against your skin. After a week of being enveloped in Chan’s scent, the smell of your clothes seems almost foreign.

Even as you lie in bed, it somehow feels even colder now than it did during all the countless nights when you were alone. Just as you had grown used to the empty space beside you, it now feels wrong not to feel the warmth of Chan’s body pressed up against yours.

You shudder at that thought.

It wasn’t just anyone you missed in your bed. It was Chan.

In a way, it had always been him.

As you drift off to sleep, the sudden shifting of the mattress jolts you awake. Changbin is home. You inwardly curse yourself, as you won’t be able to feign sleep after being startled by his presence. He chuckles softly, slipping under the covers and pulling you close, a strong arm tightly wrapping around your waist. The dim light of your bedroom hides your grimace as he pulls your body flush against his, but you can’t help but flinch.

It feels wrong.

Just as much as Chan’s body had felt perfectly aligned with yours, Changbin’s mere presence feels out of place.

“Didn’t mean to scare you, babe,” Changbin apologizes, planting a gentle kiss on your shoulder. You mindlessly nod. “Though I’m glad you’re awake. I missed you.”

His soft kisses soon travel up the column of your throat, and you bite the inside of your cheek. Changbin effortlessly moves your body so you’re lying on your back, a soft smile playing on his lips as he leans in to kiss you.

And it feels wrong.

His tongue swipes against your lower lip, soon pushing against yours, and his taste has you clutching your fists. He slots himself between your thighs like he’s done countless times, and the weight of his body on top of you has your face twisting into a scowl. He slips a hand underneath your shirt, and the feeling of his calloused fingers across your skin has you instinctively pushing him away.

Changbin looks stunned for a beat, but his lips soon curl into a playful grin.

“Not in the mood?” He simply asks, and it makes you want to cry.

Because Changbin has always been the perfect man. He was gentle, never demanding, and always so caring to you. Even after his sudden change, his only flaw was how distant he’s become.

He is completely unaware of how you callously hurt him in the worst way possible, and the weight of that realization erases any urge you had to cry. You don’t deserve that relief.

After pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, Changbin sits up on the bed. You remain motionless, focusing on how the moonlight casts shadows on the ceiling instead of how your heart twists painfully inside your chest. You only break out of this trance once he hums beside you.

“Your mom called,” he tells you, his fingers swiping across his phone screen when you face him. “Forgot to tell you. I had to tell her we chose to postpone the wedding,” he chuckles casually, and you tightly clutch the covers.

Fuck.

“I didn’t wanna tell her yet, but…” you trail off with a shaky sigh. “I guess it’s okay.”

Changbin shrugs dismissively. “Yeah, she told me you avoided the topic when she called you. She was upset, though I don’t get it,” he scoffs. “We’re still getting married, just not now.”

Those words are enough to have your heart shatter completely.

Sadly, the happiness your selfishness brought you that week is nothing compared to the sorrow that envelops you for disappointing your mother.

Chan gave you the space he knew you needed.

Even though you gave him the happiest six days of his entire bleak existence only to leave him alone and wondering, he gave you space.

The way he forgot about everything else during those days with you was almost like a fantasy. Inside the little atmosphere you created, it was just the two of you and the love he had kept hidden for so long. He needed nothing more.

And then you left, and he gave you space.

Until the days turned into weeks, and he watched as two months slipped through his fingers like sand. Even though Changbin hadn’t visited the gym in over three months, Chan’s heart still clung to the hope that he would show up, longing for the chance to ask about you. He also hoped you’d reach out, even if it meant you’d ignore everything that happened in your little world and simply talk about the weather.

Every day, his hopes are shattered into a million little pieces.

He’d take anything over your silence. He would take you as a friend over as a familiar stranger in a heartbeat, would take his heart being broken over not having you at all. He endured that for over a decade, and he would happily ruin himself for you every single day.

And so Chan finds himself knocking at your door, his shirt clinging to his chest after a relentless afternoon of punching the sandbag in his office, futilely hoping to escape thoughts of you. He eventually walked out of the gym, heart pounding in his chest as he sprinted to your apartment as if he was scared you would disappear. Because he was.

As you slowly open the door, he finally stands before you. Your eyes widen as you take in his appearance — his ruddy cheeks, labored breath, and shaky hands that fumble to fix his disheveled hair. But Chan swears you’re the sole culprit for his heart hammering against his ribcage.

“What are you—”

“I want you to pretend it never happened,” he exasperates, “Pretend we never said anything, never did anything, just pretend. We can pretend together, I don’t care. Just don’t cut me out of your life like this.”

“Chan,” you murmur, pursing your lips before continuing. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“You said you didn’t wanna pretend that nothing happened between us. You said that,” he argues, trying but ultimately failing his attempt at keeping his voice down.

Chan feels as if his mind is unraveling. Every emotion he kept nestled inside his chest for years had finally spilled out the moment your lips touched his, and trying to bury this love again felt like a cruel punishment.

“Back in my apartment, I told you we should just pretend nothing happened, but you…” his voice dissipates into a sigh, the words dying at his throat, replaced by a lump that swelled in his throat.

He feels pathetic, adverting his gaze simply to blink away the tears that have gathered in his lashes. But when he turns to look at you again, your eyes are already pouring.

“I’m sorry,” you bawl, fingers gripping the doorframe until your knuckles turn white. “Chan, I’m so fucking sorry, but I can’t do this.”

Chan gnaws on his bottom lip, his eyes fixed on you as you turn and walk away, leaving him alone by your door. As he watches your figure disappear into the hallway, he realizes he cannot bear the agony of only helplessly watching you any longer.

“You said you were happy,” he yells out, following after you like a phantom you carelessly disregard. The sound of his voice echoes behind you, ignored as you enter the kitchen and resume drying plates and cutlery. Chan continues, “You started it. You chose to cross that line, chose to stay, chose to keep letting me make love to you every damn night—”

You drop a plate on the counter with a scowl, the delicate porcelain chipping at the edge. “Love?” You scoff bitterly at Chan, shaking your head. “That wasn’t love. That was a mistake.”

“That’s not what you said,” Chan retorts, and your eyes soften. He breathes out a heavy sigh. At this point, he knows he’s gone beyond desperation. He still continues, “Tell me you weren’t happy.”

“Chan…”

“Tell me,” he insists. “Tell me and I’ll gladly pretend with you.”

“I was scared!” You blurt out, “That week with you was the happiest I had been in so long, and it terrified me. But maybe that’s love, huh? Being selfish, putting myself before everyone else and acting like a fucking teenager. That’s surely love,” you scoff, words dripping with sarcasm.

A heavy silence falls between you. Chan is back in that familiar place, watching you engage in a silent battle within yourself, distant eyes almost boring holes into the chipped plate in your hands. Deep inside, he knows you’re right. It is selfish to want you to abandon everything you built for a dormant love you both buried so long ago.

But maybe being selfish is exactly what you both need. Maybe love isn’t selflessness, maybe it’s the complete opposite.

“Maybe that’s the love we deserve,” Chan breaks the deafening silence, carefully stepping closer to you. “After all these years of stupidly sacrificing our own happiness, maybe selfish love is the kind of love we need.”

But you remain silent. Your eyes wander around, almost as if you’re taking in the life that reflects the choices you’ve made. The walls of your hallway, adorned with polaroid pictures telling your story with Changbin, from just friends to the night of your engagement. Your fridge, where colorful magnets hold up little notes from Changbin, filled with sweet nothings and inside jokes. Chan notices the date on the most recent one, realizing it was over seven months ago.

As the minutes tick by, Chan braces himself for your words. He’s ready to be called insane, for you to yell and rightfully reject any notion of continuing your friendship. He knows there’s no going back to the way things were. That possibility died the moment you stepped into his apartment that fateful night.

Instead, you gaze up at him and whisper four words that leave him completely stunned.

“Run away with me.”

And Chan’s never been able to deny you.

Before you two can even make sense of anything, you’re already in your bedroom. Chan packs your bags while you kneel beside your bed, hastily jotting down words on a piece of paper. Your sudden giggle has him biting back a smile that blossoms on his face when you wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him into a deep kiss. He sighs into your lips. Your love was unearthed, dirty and tainted, but still breathing. It was sinful and borderline cataclysmic, but it was yours.

Since you were both ten years old, it has always been yours.

Your letter to Changbin hangs alongside the love notes he’d left for you over the years; selfish words nestled between sincere ones.

Inside his car, Chan’s hand intertwines with yours, and he watches your lips curl into a smile that finally reaches your eyes. It’s the first time he’s seen that expression grace your face in years.

And Chan’s emotions mirrored your own, so he made it his mission to make that happiness everlasting.

Even if it was through a selfish love.

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist, @jazziwritesthings, @seungseung-minmin, @yourcvndx, @hynjinnnnnnnie, @vlctorriaa, @redstayrosie, @binniesbabygirl, @pynchkilledme, @chansbabygirlsstuff, @pheonixfire777, @yongbokkiesworld, @kiensecent

[l2vedive]

FROM THE ASHES w. hansol vernon chwe

supernatural horror au + childhood best friends (5.8k)

SUMMARY: in which you and hansol reunite ten years later to face the horrors of the past that left you both scarred and haunted. (reader and hansol centric)

pairing: hansol vernon chwe x fem!reader

featuring: lee chan of seventeen & lee nakyung of fromis

genres: SLOWBURN, angst, kinda horror, supernatural, action, childhood best friends w trauma, set in the 80s

warning(s): crazy amounts of lore, so much slowburn, hurt/comfort, mild descriptions of violence, character death

notes: wrote this purely for my own entertainment after replaying the game the other day. this is inspired by two games actually! it has elements of choices' book called it lives in the woods and romance club's shadows of saintfour. this has some heavy lore but i've done my best to break down most of it so you guys can understand it without playing ♡

if you liked this read, please don't forget to reblog with your thoughts and give it a like !

i. bravery.

it’s late in the evening, and the air feels heavy. you’re standing in front of the old house, the one that’s always felt both like a home and a prison. your small hands are trembling as you clutch the hem of your jacket, eyes scanning the darkened street outside, the distant sounds of the city muffled by the thick fog that has rolled in. you’ve been told not to go out past sunset, that the pisadeira—that thing from the nightmares—will get you. but your mother has been distant for weeks, locked in a room, her eyes wide with fear, always watching the shadows like they’re waiting for something to come.

you know you’re not supposed to be out here. you know the stories. everyone does. don’t go near the flowers. don’t look into the darkness. don’t listen to the whispers. but your feet move before you can think about it, the pull of the unknown stronger than any fear you’ve ever felt. you cross the threshold into the garden, the flowers there too large, too bright, almost alive. your heart races as the petals glisten like they’ve been touched by some forbidden magic, their beauty something both inviting and dangerous.

it’s then that you hear it—the soft voice, like the rustle of leaves in the wind, and you freeze. "come closer."

your breath catches in your throat. you don’t know why you don’t run.

ii. cowardice

hansol is young, barely a year older than you, but already carrying a weight in his chest that most kids his age wouldn’t understand. he doesn’t like to talk about it, the feeling—the one that makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up when he’s alone in the dark. it’s not fear, exactly, more like a sense that something should be there. a presence. a pressure. something pulling at him from the shadows.

his family has always moved around. never staying in one place too long. too many unanswered questions about his father’s work, too many late nights with hushed conversations. hansol never really thought it was strange, until that one night. the one when he was alone in his room, playing with his toy cars, and he felt the air change. the floorboards creaked under someone’s weight—someone who wasn’t there.

the whispers started soon after. he couldn’t remember when, but they were always there, following him like a second shadow, calling him to the dark corners of the house. come closer. i’m waiting.

he told no one. even when his mother came in to check on him that night, he lied, said everything was fine. but deep down, hansol knew something was wrong. there was something in the dark, something that waited for the right moment to pull him under.

iii. small

the bell rings, and you’re at the gates of the middle school, your heart thumping in your chest for reasons you can’t explain. hansol is standing at the edge of the crowd, his usual stoic expression softening when he sees you. he waves shyly, like he always does, and you can’t help but smile back.

“hey, hansol,” you say, walking up to him with a grin. “you know what’s worse than studying for a pop quiz?”

he raises an eyebrow, the faintest spark of interest in his eyes. “what?”

“studying for a pop quiz with the teacher standing over your shoulder,” you say, laughing at the face he makes. “you’d think they’d give us a break.”

he tries to keep it in, but the smile breaks out anyway, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. it’s small, but you notice. “you’re a terrible influence,” he says with a shake of his head, but you can see the fondness in his eyes. inside, his chest flutters, and it’s the kind of flutter he wants to squash. but he can’t, not when you’re standing so close, your laughter light in the air, something unspoken between you both.

iv. sleepover

the annual sleepover at your house is always the most anticipated event of the year. even now, with the haunted past of saintfour hanging over your shoulders, it feels like something that should bring comfort. something normal. but things feel different this time.

hansol is the first to arrive, as always, but this time, there’s an unease in his eyes, a look that doesn’t quite belong in a child his age. he brushes it off when you greet him with a teasing smile, ruffling his hair as he steps inside. a small girl follows behind him and you swoop her up in your arms.

"it's not funny, you know," he mutters, brushing off your hand, but the corners of his lips twitch.

“gyul thinks it is, right?” you giggle and so does she, mirroring every expression you make.

hansol rolls his eyes and takes her from you so you could go and get things settled for the others.

as the night wears on after putting the youngest attendee to bed, you and your friends, hansol included, settle into the living room. nakyung is the first to start whispering, chan and hansol are too wrapped up in their snacks and games to notice that the air around you all is growing thicker, heavier.

“hey, do you guys feel that?” you ask, glancing around the room. your voice is shaky, uncertain, but they all brush it off.

“it’s just the storm outside,” nakyung laughs, waving it off. “you’re imagining it.”

but you know what you feel. the chill in the air is different. unnatural. and then you hear it. the soft whispers again, curling around you like smoke. come closer. it’s time to wake up.

before you can react, you feel it—something cold, something sharp, dragging its claws down your neck.

“no!” you scream, stumbling back, but the pain is overwhelming. the petals of the flowers from your nightmares begin to fall, drifting like snowflakes, but the touch of them is suffocating. you gasp, trying to push them away, but it’s no use.

“help! someone help her—!”

your vision dims, everything turning dark as the pain intensifies. you feel yourself slipping, your body falling against the ground as your breath catches in your throat. and then, everything goes black.

when you wake, you find a scar on your neck—a mark of the night you almost didn’t survive. the petals, though, are gone. the whispers are silent. but you can still feel it. she’s still here.

v. whispers

it’s been ten years. a decade of silence. no phone calls, no texts, no letters. you’ve gone your separate ways, drifting through life without the familiar presence of hansol, nakyung, or the others. it’s as if the past—the horrors of saintfour—were a shared dream that none of you wanted to remember. and yet, here you are, standing in the same auditorium once again, the weight of that history pressing down on your chest.

you sit in the crowd of new and old faces, the orientation assembly unfolding in front of you like any typical college event. there’s laughter, excitement, and the usual pre-university buzz in the air. you know hansol is somewhere in the crowd, though you can’t bring yourself to search for him. you feel the pull of your past, that strange, unexplainable tug, but you push it down. this is your fresh start. you won’t let the pisadeira ruin it.

but then, the lights flicker.

it’s subtle at first, just a quick blink, a brief interruption in the otherwise seamless flow of the assembly. no one else seems to notice, but your heart skips a beat. something’s wrong.

the smell of wildflowers invades the air. not the delicate, sweet fragrance of a bouquet—no, this is sharp, invasive, almost suffocating.

not again.

your pulse spikes as the familiar voice drifts into your mind, soft, like a breath against your skin. come closer, (your name).

it’s her. she’s here.

you try to steady your breath, your hands trembling as the whispers grow louder, more insistent, more malicious. i’ve waited for you. don’t run away.

your vision blurs, the room spinning as you struggle to stay grounded in the present. you glance around quickly, desperate to find someone who isn’t caught in the same trap. but everyone else is oblivious, lost in the crowd, unaware of the danger lurking at the edge of your perception.

except hansol, who locks eyes with you. he knows.

you’re back in it. back in the nightmare you thought you escaped.

vi. reawakening

it’s the third week of college when he knocks on your door. hansol. standing in the hallway, looking exactly as you remember, but older, quieter. his eyes are darker now, shadowed by years of things unsaid, but they still hold the same familiarity. you’re caught off guard, unsure of how to react. you weren’t expecting this, not after ten years.

“what are you doing here?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper, trying to mask the shock that’s creeping up your throat.

he hesitates before answering, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket. “your parents blame me,” he says quietly, his gaze not meeting yours. “and I’ve accepted it.”

the words hang heavy in the air, a confession of guilt, an admission of the years he’s spent with that weight on his shoulders. your stomach churns, a mix of anger and sadness rising up. how could they? how could they blame him for something neither of you could control?

you swallow, trying to process everything, but all you can think of is the way hansol looks so small now, so paralysed by the memories of things that shouldn’t be real. you’re reminded of the times when you both stood on the precipice of danger, and you couldn’t protect him. you couldn’t fight back against the monsters that seemed so real.

but you will now.

a fire stirs in your chest, something deep inside you that makes you want to protect him this time. this time, you’ll fight.

you find yourself tracking him, watching from the corners of campus, noting the places he frequents when the weekend comes. you never ask him where he’s going—never question it—but you always seem to find the empty seat next to him, always make sure to sit there when no one else does.

he doesn’t question it at first, but soon, he gives you a sideways glance, his gaze sharp but unreadable. “why didn’t you ask me first?”

you shrug, a small, playful smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “didn’t think I needed to.”

and he doesn’t question how you found him, either. perhaps he’s just relieved to have you there, even if he doesn’t admit it. but his silence is heavy, and you know there’s more to his avoidance than he’s letting on. there always is with hansol.

you’re back in each other’s lives now, and you can feel the weight of what’s coming. you both know it’s not over. it never was. but maybe, just maybe, this time, you won’t be alone.

vii. dive

the party hums with energy, laughter, and loud music, but hansol is nowhere near the centre of it. you find him by the garden, crouched by a patch of daisies, plucking their petals with deliberate precision. with each one, he tosses it lightly into the nearby pool, watching as they float and swirl on the water’s surface.

“you know, that’s supposed to be romantic,” you tease, crossing your arms as you approach. “daisies in a pool? what’s the occasion?”

he glances up at you, his expression unreadable but familiar. “just thought it was nice. peaceful, you know?”

“peaceful? at a party?” you ask, tilting your head. “didn’t think you’d even show up to something like this.”

“figured it’d be less lonely,” he replies, brushing a stray petal from his hand. “knowing the people I grew up with would be here, even if I’m not exactly a part of it.”

you blink, caught off guard by his honesty, but you quickly recover. “well, you’ve got company now,” you say lightly, sitting down on the edge of the pool beside him.

the conversation shifts to small talk, catching up on little details about classes, professors, and the mundane chaos of college life. hansol doesn’t say much, but when he does, his words are careful, thoughtful. he seems more at ease out here, away from the crowd.

then, david bowie’s modern love starts playing from the speakers, the familiar beat making your foot tap instinctively. you nudge his shoulder, a playful grin spreading across your face. “come on. dance with me.”

he leans back slightly, shaking his head with a soft chuckle. “me? dancing out there? maybe you should ask chan. he’d love to dance with you.”

you roll your eyes, laughing, but you pause to search his face. there’s no hint of jealousy, no hard feelings—just a quiet acceptance, as if he’s fine watching from the sidelines. reassured, you rise and wave over chan, who doesn’t hesitate to grab your hand and spin you in a dramatic twirl that makes you laugh out loud.

soon, you’re in the middle of a lively group, dancing like you’ve known each other for years. you fit right in, your energy infectious, your smile bright.

from the edge of the garden, hansol watches you. there’s a flicker of something in his eyes.. you’re the same as you’ve always been. plucky, bold, unafraid to dive into life headfirst.

some things never change, he thinks, his lips curving into a small, almost imperceptible smile.

viii. reverse

study hall is quiet, save for the soft rustle of papers and the occasional tapping of pens against wooden desks. you’ve claimed a corner of the room, surrounded by textbooks and open tabs on your laptop—not for your upcoming pop quiz, but for something far more unsettling.

“pisadeira,” you mutter under your breath, scrolling through yet another article on the folklore.

“still on about that?”

you startle at the voice, looking up to see hansol standing there holding a takeout paper bag for iced americanos without waiting for an invitation, he sets the bag down and slides into the seat next to you.

“you’re supposed to be studying,” he says, nodding toward the pile of notes sprawled across your desk.

“and you’re supposed to avoid this topic,” you counter, narrowing your eyes. “why are you even here?”

he shrugs, taking a sip of his coffee. “figured you’d need a distraction.”

you scoff, though the sight of him flipping through your notes catches you off guard. hansol hasn’t willingly spoken about the pisadeira since that night ten years ago, and seeing him this invested stirs something uneasy in you.

“you never wanted to talk about her before,” you say, your voice quieter now. “why the sudden interest?”

he doesn’t answer immediately, his gaze fixed on one of your highlighted sections. “because she’s not just in your head,” he finally says.

you grit your teeth, frustration bubbling up. “i had another nightmare about her,” you admit. “last week. it was—” you pause, shaking your head. “it felt so real.”

“it’s just a dream,” he says firmly, turning to face you. “you’ll be ready if it happens again. we both will.”

his words are meant to comfort you, but they only add to the weight you already feel. you let out a heavy sigh, rubbing your temples. “you know, sometimes I wish I could just live a normal college life. no nightmares, no supernatural shit, just classes, lazy and terror professors in between and stupid long exams that require all nighters.”

hansol chuckles softly, the sound breaking the tension between you. “if all else fails,” he says after a moment, “you can always swing by my place in the future and help me with boring work stuff.”

you smile faintly, glancing down at your notes. “i might just take you up on that,” you say softly.

for the first time in what feels like forever, the weight on your shoulders feels a little lighter.

ix. time

the sorority house is alive with music and chatter, fairy lights strung across the ceiling casting a soft glow over the room. it’s the first party of the semester you’ve hosted, and your sorority sisters flit around the space, greeting guests and pulling people onto the makeshift dance floor. the air smells faintly of sweet cocktails and the flowers you’d arranged on every table earlier, a hollow attempt to lighten your unease.

it’s been two months since you last dreamt of the pisadeira. the quiet should be a relief, but it isn’t. not when reports have started to trickle through campus about students collapsing, choking on petals of purple flowers and other strange remains. she’s here, you know it, even if she hasn’t come for you yet. but why?

your stomach tightens, not from the pisadeira’s absence but from the creeping feeling of not belonging. this isn’t your scene, no matter how hard you try to pretend otherwise. you’re smiling, laughing, blending in, but for the first time, you feel out of place.

you force the thoughts away, telling yourself this party is meant to be a distraction. another night to blend in, to laugh and pretend like you don’t have a target painted on your back. nakyung has been doing her best to keep you entertained, introducing you to some of the boys she brought along, but none of them hold your attention. they’re polite, but their smiles are shallow, their conversation uninteresting.

“come on, smile,” nakyung whispers, nudging you with her elbow as she gestures toward a small group of guys lingering by the makeshift bar. “they’re cute, right? you should at least try.”

you force a smile, but it feels brittle. “they’re not my type.”

“you don’t have a type,” she retorts, rolling her eyes. “you’re just being stubborn.”

as nakyung drifts off to entertain someone else, you take a deep breath, your stomach knotting tighter with every passing second. the truth is, this isn’t your scene. it never has been. tonight, you feel the weight of that reality more than ever.

you glance around, catching sight of hansol by the snack table. he’s pouring himself a drink, looking more like a ghost than a guest.

he’s been here for five minutes, maybe less, and already he’s drifted to the edge of the room. across the hall, hansol is doing his best to blend into the wallpaper. chan had promised this party would be fun, nudging him along with a grin as they arrived. but as soon as they entered, chan was gone, disappearing into the crowd to charm strangers.

hansol doesn’t join him. he never does. instead, he hugs the corner of the party, his fingers curling nervously around the rim of his glass. his stomach churns, not from the punch but from the persistent tug of unease that’s been gnawing at him all evening. the music thrums against his chest like a second heartbeat, and yet he feels like he’s the only one moving in slow motion, the clock dragging its hands with agonising patience.

he’s by the snack table you meticulously laid out earlier, his shoulders hunched. hansol feels like an afterthought here, a placeholder for a party that doesn’t need him.

he glances at his watch, willing the minutes to pass faster, his chest tight with unease. it’s not the party that’s getting to him, though. it’s the clock. it feels like a countdown to something you can’t name, but every second that ticks by only makes him feel sicker.

he looks in a hurry. like he’s chasing time, trying to outrun something.

and then, as if sensing your curiosity, his gaze finds yours across the room.

you’re across the room, framed by the warm glow of fairy lights, your expression distant. for a moment, he wonders if you’re as uncomfortable as he is. when your eyes meet, it’s like the noise of the crowd fades into the background.

you smile—a small, fleeting gesture, but genuine.

he wants to smile back, to walk over, to say something, anything. but the moment stretches too long.

he doesn’t move, and neither do you

instead, you turn away, letting the crowd swallow you back up. hansol stays rooted to the spot, watching as you slip back into the crowd, a forced laugh on your lips as nakyung waves you over to meet another new face. hansol watches as you disappear into the sea of faces, his grip tightening around the cup in his hand.

somewhere in the corner of your mind, you replay the brief encounter, wondering why your heart clenched in that strange, familiar way. for a second, you’d felt tethered, but now the party feels lonelier than ever.

maybe he could’ve walked over, said something, done anything, if he didn’t already know what was coming.

but he does.

he looks at his glass, his reflection faintly visible in the surface of the drink. for a moment, he swears he sees something ripple beneath it, a flicker of purple that disappears the second he blinks.

x. pisadeira

the ruins reek of blood and decay, the air thick with the copper tang of the pisadeira's end. your dress clings to your skin, sodden with sweat, dirt, and her blood—so dark it looks black under the moonlight. your breathing is laboured, each inhale a desperate attempt to find clarity, but there is none to be found.

"leave them," hansol says, voice sharp as a whip, pulling you away from the remains of her carnage. the “dogs”—summoned guardians nakyung had managed to control—snarl and lunge at the creatures spilling into the ruins, their teeth gleaming like moonlit steel. "we have to go."

"we can’t just—" you start, but he grips your arm, the pressure of his fingers like iron.

"there’s no time!"

the urgency in his tone silences you, but the unease in your gut only grows as he pulls you, nakyung, and chan into the woods. branches claw at your ruined dress as you stumble after him, feet numb from the cold. the shadows seem alive, writhing like snakes in your periphery. hansol moves with a singular purpose, his jaw tight, his eyes flickering with something unreadable.

you glance back at chan and nakyung. chan’s face is pale, his usual easygoing charm replaced with grim determination. nakyung looks shaken, her lips pressed into a thin line, but she follows without question.

"hansol," you say, your voice trembling. "what’s going on? where are we going?"

"somewhere safe," he says, but there’s a crack in his voice, a crack you don’t miss.

"safe?" nakyung repeats, her tone laced with suspicion. "what do you mean safe? safe from what?"

"just trust me," hansol says, not looking back.

you want to trust him. god, you want to trust him. but something about the way he moves, the way his hand keeps brushing the pocket of his jacket, makes your heart pound with something other than exertion.

the forest thickens, the trees closing in around you like skeletal fingers. the air grows colder, the smell of wildflowers creeping into your nostrils. your steps falter.

"hansol," you whisper, panic threading your voice. "she’s here, isn’t she? the pisadeira’s not—"

"it’s not her," he cuts you off, his voice low and haunted. "not anymore."

you stop in your tracks. "what do you mean?"

he turns to face you, and for the first time, you see it—the torment, the guilt, the unbearable weight he’s been carrying.

"hangyul," he says, his voice breaking. "it’s my sister."

the world tilts and you feel like the wind’s knocked you off of your feet. "what?" you breathe, stepping back.

"she’s the one," he says, his voice trembling with the effort to stay steady. "the one who’s been hunting us. the one who’s been killing them."

"no," you say, shaking your head. "no, that’s not—she’s dead, hansol. she’s been dead for ten years."

"because of you," he snaps, the venom in his tone slicing through you. "because you failed to save her. because you let pisadeira take her."

the accusation hits like a physical blow, and for a moment, you can’t breathe.

"that’s not fair!" nakyung interjects, stepping forward. "you know it’s not her fault."

"isn’t it?" hansol says, his eyes locking onto yours, sharp and unyielding. "she was the one who insisted we stay in that house. the one who convinced us it wasn’t real. and now my sister—she was innocent ! ” hansol turns to you, exasperated and eyes blurred with anger. “you turned her into a monster."

"she wasn’t your sister anymore," you say, your voice trembling. "not after what the pisadeira did to her. you know that."

"and you think that makes it easier?" he shouts, his composure shattering. "you think that makes it any less my responsibility to save her now?"

"save her?" chan echoes, his voice sharp with disbelief. "by doing what, hansol? what are you planning?"

silence falls, heavy and suffocating. hansol’s hand moves to his pocket, and when it emerges, it holds a knife.

"no," you whisper, your blood turning to ice.

"i’m sorry," he says, his voice hollow. "but this is the only way."

"you’re not making any sense!" you scream, backing away. "hansol, stop ! "

but he doesn’t stop. he steps forward, his grip on the knife tightening.

"i can’t let her keep suffering," he says, his voice breaking. "and i can’t let her come for you again. if i have to end this—if i have to hurt you to save her—then so be it."

"you’re insane," nakyung spits, stepping between you. "you think killing her—killing us—is going to fix anything? you’re just as much a monster as she is!"

"hansol, please," you say, your voice cracking. "don’t do this. we can find another way."

but he shakes his head, tears streaming down his face. "there is no other way. i have to end this. i have to end her."

and then he lunges.

your survival instincts take over, your body moving before your mind can catch up. you grab a fallen branch, swinging it with all your strength. the knife slices through the air, grazing your arm before you manage to knock it from his grip.

"traitor," you hiss, your voice filled with betrayal and heartbreak. "you brought us here. you led us into this."

"because i had to," he says, his voice breaking. "you don’t understand—"

"then make me understand!" you scream, the weight of ten years of pain and regret crashing down on you.

but he doesn’t answer. instead, he stumbles back, his hand clutching his side where your makeshift weapon struck.

"hansol," nakyung says, her voice trembling. "don’t make us do this. please."

he doesn’t respond. instead, he looks at you, his eyes filled with an agony you can’t begin to comprehend.

when the knife finally finds your back, the betrayal hurts more than the sting of the blade.

xi. bravery

the room is a warzone of exhaustion and regret, every shadow crawling with the remnants of what had just unfolded. nakyung and chan lie unconscious but breathing, their bodies splayed across the cold stone floor like broken dolls. the silence that follows is heavier than the chaos it replaced. the spirit of the pisadeira looms ahead, a gnarled figure of fury and vengeance, her form almost too grotesque to look at directly. but your eyes are drawn instead to hangyul’s ghost—her face streaked with spectral tears, her cries thin and keening, a sound that seems to reverberate inside your chest.

your body is screaming at you to stop, to lay down and give in to the pain radiating from your back where hansol’s knife had found you earlier. you clutch the wound with trembling fingers, sticky with blood, but your legs stay steady beneath you. barely.

hansol moves towards you like a puppet with its strings cut, dragging his feet as though the weight of his guilt has made it impossible to walk properly. his face is pale, streaked with sweat and grime, his eyes hollow and faraway. when he finally stands in front of you, you see a boy unravelling, a man drowning in the consequences of his choices.

he whispers, “i’m sorry,” but the words fall into the abyss between you, too light to matter now.

you can feel the fury bubbling in your chest, threatening to spill over. “sorry?” your voice trembles with anger and anguish. “you think that fixes this? you think that fixes her?” you gesture to hangyul’s ghost, to the weeping figure of the sister he’s chased after for so long.

his head dips low, his shame radiating like heat. “everything I did… was for her,” he says, his voice cracking. “i thought—i thought if i gave her what she wanted, if i made it right—”

“you betrayed us,” you cut him off, your voice sharper than you mean it to be. “you betrayed me, hansol.”

the words land like blows, and he flinches visibly.

but then you see it—the way his hands shake, the way his lips press together as though holding back a sob. he doesn’t want to fight anymore. he doesn’t want to keep running.

and despite everything—despite the knife in your back, the blood on his hands—you see the boy you grew up with, the boy who once handed you the last piece of bread during a sleepover, who once told you your laugh was louder than the cicadas.

“you can’t fix this by throwing yourself into it,” you say, softer this time. “don’t you see? the pisadeira doesn’t want justice, hansol. she wants suffering. she’ll take you, and it’ll never end.”

he looks at you then, truly looks at you, and you can see the cracks in him deepening. “then what am i supposed to do?”

you glance at hangyul’s ghost, her ethereal form flickering, fading in and out like a candle struggling to stay lit. your mind is racing, calculating the options. the pisadeira’s form trembles, growing impatient, her sharp, distorted voice rasping through the air.

“one soul,” she hisses. “one soul to replace the one lost. a fair trade.”

hansol starts to step forward, his movements deliberate, but you stop him with a hand on his chest.

“no,” you say firmly.

“(your name), please,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “this is my fault. let me fix it.”

“if you want to fix it, you stay alive,” you snap, your breath hitching from the sharp pain in your back. “you stay alive, and you remember this. you live with it. and you make it mean something.”

he stares at you, wide-eyed, as you step past him. your body feels like it’s made of lead, every movement torturing him, but you don’t stop. before he can stop you, you turn and step toward the pisadeira, the wound in your side burning like fire, your legs trembling but unyielding. the creature watches you with a twisted smile, her skeletal fingers outstretched. hangyul’s ghost weeps behind her, mouthing a silent plea for you to stop.

“no!” hansol lunges forward, grabbing your arm, but you wrench yourself free. you feel hansol’s scream more than you hear it, but you don’t turn back. bravery is all you have left.

"let her go," you say, your voice clear and strong. "take me instead.".

“don’t make me watch this again,” you hear hansol plead, his voice desperate, tears streaking his face. “please, (your name). don’t—”

“it has to end. you told me yourself. this happened because of me.” you say, your voice steady despite the fear coursing through you. “so it will end with me too.”

you step into the circle at the centre of the room, where the ritual had been poised to complete with hansol’s sacrifice. the pisadeira snarls, her twisted face splitting into something that might have been a grin.

you glance back at hansol one last time, your eyes meeting his. you see the devastation there, the love, the regret. and for a brief moment, you smile. “be brave and live well, hansol,” you tell him. a tear falls and you can’t bear the thought of looking back and seeing him broken.

you see hangyul’s ghost move closer, her lips forming the words "thank you." before she vanishes like a light. at the same time, the pisadeira’s grin widens as her claws pierce your chest, the pain white-hot and all-encompassing. as the darkness closes in.

and then, nothing.

xii. cowardice

when the silence falls, it is not the peaceful kind. it is the suffocating quiet of loss, the heavy weight of a world newly broken. hansol’s knees give out beneath him, and he crumples onto the cold, uneven ground. his head falls into his hands, shaking as sobs tear from his throat.

"no," he whispers hoarsely, his voice trembling and thin. "no, no, no…"

the ruins are bathed in an eerie stillness, illuminated only by the dim glow of the moon. nakyung and chan stir on the floor, groaning faintly as they start to come to, but they are not awake enough to witness the wreckage left behind. hansol feels the briefest flicker of relief that they’re alive—alive, because of you—but it is fleeting, swallowed by the sight of you lying motionless, your body crumpled on the stone floor, your skin pale and cold to the touch.

this is his doing.

"it wasn’t supposed to be this way," he rasps, his hands trembling as he cups your face, brushing his thumb against your clammy cheek. he pulls you close, his tears falling onto your lifeless skin. "you weren’t supposed to—" his voice breaks, and he clutches you tighter, as though holding you close might bring you back.

the sound of sirens pierces the distance, their wailing cry growing louder with each second. hansol freezes, his chest heaving as panic sets in. he can’t be seen here. not like this. not holding your body, your blood on his hands, his knife discarded somewhere in the wreckage.

they’ll blame him. they should blame him.

"no, not like this," he whispers, his hands shaking as he gently lowers your body back onto the ground. his fingers brush your hair away from your face, his breath catching in his throat as he takes in every detail of you—the softness of your features, the way your lashes rest against your cheeks, the faint traces of the bravery you wore so fiercely etched into your expression.

a daisy lies nearby, untouched amidst the chaos, and he picks it up with trembling fingers. carefully, he tucks it into your hair, his movements deliberate and tender, as though this small act might undo the horrors of the night.

"i’m sorry," he whispers, his voice breaking. "i’m so sorry."

the sirens are close now, too close. hansol’s heart pounds in his chest as he looks at you one last time, memorising every detail, every part of you that he couldn’t save.

and then he runs.

— please do not copy , translate or repost any of my works anywhere.

© l2vedive on tumblr

[jaquemuses]

i’m an angst comfort GIRL so if you would be interested in writing anything maybe about childhood friends enzo and reader where it’s right people wrong time for years ( definitely mutual feelings, maybe reader always thought enzo was too good for them so they never really thought they had a chance but is oblivious to the fact that enzo was head over HEELS for them but was worried about dragging them into the spotlight as he grew more famous) until they finally end up together i’d be thrilled!! ofc no matter what thank you so much!! have a great day/night!!❤️❤️

GIRL ME TOO !!! so glad you requested it, i wrote this, hope u enjoy it ♡♡

Starry night | Enzo Vogrincic

Synopsis: Sharing feelings has always been challenging, but under the starry sky, sitting right beside his childhood friend on the eve of his movie premiere party, Enzo confesses a love that has lingered his heart since he was seven.

Word count: 1.5k

Content: Enzo Vogrincic/Reader, mutual pining, childhood friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluffy overall, no explicit content, focus on emotions, and strong affection for Enzo, references to ghibli's movies.

a/n: hi there !! i hope you guy enjoy this i pulled an all nighter just to write it lmaooo so bear with me if there's any typos or such; english isn't my first language, but I hope it's a good read!

- xoxo Kara ♡

Time slips away so quickly.

Beneath the starry sky, the weight of its passing moments engulfs you like a fuzzy tidal wave, heavy and suffocating. Sinking beneath its weight has become your routine.

A soft, resigned sigh escapes your lips, the midnight air crisp on your tongue, turning into vapor in the summer night. Beyond your sight, stars burn in tandem, the cosmos vast and immersive. The moon, tonight, is a big blob of reflected sunlight, smiling tenderly, casting a soothing glow like a mother's voice.

In the familiarity of the sight, there's comfort. The moon, always there, in crescents or hidden by clouds, a constant in a changing world. What a peculiar and lovely thing it is to be under the celestial dance, where even the moon, with its timeless presence, seems to join the ever-moving cosmic ballet.

As you lay on the rooftop, the distant melody of music from the house below reaches your ears. It's a reminder of shared laughter, playful banter, and the bond you once had with Enzo. The thought of losing him, not just as a childhood friend but as this life partner makes you wanna cry right there.

Another second lost, as you gaze into the nothingness of space. Time keeps passing you by, never stopping —seconds turning into minutes, minutes turning into months. that incessant moving of the hands of the clock; tick, tock, tick, tock. over and over again.

and, really, it's a little bit scary. you think you might be terrified of time. you're so afraid, afraid of being left behind, afraid that the world will turn its back on you and then walk away. afraid that everyone and everything will change shape before you know it

The music serves as a soundtrack to your memories, a bittersweet symphony echoing through the night. Enzo, your companion through the years, feels like he's slipping away, and the weight of that potential loss is heavy against the backdrop of the starlit sky.

But even in this always-changing, turbulent mess of a life

one thing remains the same;

"Ah, there you are," Enzo's voice, honeyed and familiar, breaks the silence. A small smile graces your lips at the sight of him.

That voice...

honeyed and smooth, but still rough around the edges, just a little husky. Deep and familiar, etched into your brain; even if you were to forget everything else, you're sure you'd still remember it. That familiar voice. It sounds like moonlit nights, and sunkissed kitchens.

it sounds like coming home.

A turn of your head. it's a subconscious reaction, as natural as the beating of your own heart, memorized down to the very marrow of your bones — muscle memory, to seek him out after hearing the low timbre of his voice. You do it as if it's the only thing worth hearing.

And Enzo is smiling, when your eyes meet his. That gentle upward tug of his lips, small yet sincere. The one that always puts your mind at ease.

"How'd you know I'd be up here?" you tease, a playful glint in your eyes.

"Lucky guess," Enzo replies, his grin revealing the comfort of shared moments.

Of course, he knew. Tracking you down was his thing, always has been. Like that time when he found you concealed under a table at your twelfth birthday party or the time he discovered you teary-eyed in the woods during your school field trip.

Finding you always comes easy to Enzo. Almost like he's always seeking you out, subconsciously or otherwise, always paying attention to your movements. You go south, and he follows, you go north, and he's already waiting up ahead.

"Damn, how'd you know?" you playfully pout, looking into him.

"I always know, silly" Enzo confesses softly, his eyes holding a warmth that speaks volumes. "I've known you since we were seven"

A gentle inhale passes between you as the silence settles, the moon casting its glow on your shared history.

"I thought you might be too busy with, you know, the whole famous actor thing," you admit trying to make it a joke but insecurity creeps into your words. "Congratulations on that, i always knew you'd make it"

The whole party underneath you both was for Enzo, you felt kind of stupid for leaving so suddenly, after all tonight's was Enzo's night. But before he realized it, you had slipped away, seizing the chance as soon as others grew too drowsy to take notice.

But he always notices you.

And he's worried. just a bit, is what he tells himself but truthfully it's more than that.

You look small, enzo thinks, curled up with your knees to your chest. Sitting all alone up on the roof of his home, a place you'd always go to on nights when you couldn't sleep. Together, sharing whispered secrets and hushed laughter until the sun began to rise again. Back then, it felt like the two of you were the only ones awake in the whole world.

(the safest world he's ever known.)

The distance between you grows narrower, as enzo makes his way over to you - and it always does, at the end of the day. No matter how much time you spend apart, that uncomfortable distance always, always ends up broached. One of you always moves closer. As if it's unavoidable, two planets spinning around each other's orbit.

Enzo sits down right next to you, crossing his legs and leaning back. his knee bumps against the side of your shoe, and his shoulder grazes yours. It's natural, as natural as the glow of the moon, this closeness between you. It reminds you of the gentle lapping of the ocean waves of Punta del este at your bare ankles; on mellow summer days when you were 10 and went to a trip with your parents and Enzo's, comforting and familiar. A warmth that never goes away.

The moon bathes the rooftop in a gentle glow as Enzo chuckles in response to your teasing remark. "Busy? Yeah, it gets a bit crazy, but it's moments like these that remind me of what truly matters. And you know im never too busy for you." He shifts, a thoughtful expression on his face, as he gazes at the city below.

A brief inhale, and your heartbeat settles into a tender rhythm again. The scent that always lingers on Enzo's skin drifts throughout the air, mingling with your own — it can be hard to distinguish between the two, with how often you end up wearing each other's clothes, but you could never mistake it for anything else. Cedarwood and earl gray, with a hint of coconut-scented shampoo enveloping every single one of your senses, grounding you in a way nothing else can.

Leaning just a little closer to him, subconsciously, youet a fond exhale slip from your lips. Barely audible. And Enzo mimics it.

The silence between you is a comfortable one. Always has been. A little fickle, always shattered by one of you before long —usually you, though enzo isn't much better. But this time, he stays silent.

He's waiting. You know he is, because he always does.

He's waiting, waiting for you to break the silence first. Waiting for you to say something, tell him what's wrong, explain why you're up here instead of celebrating with the others. Waiting for you to explain why your eyes have looked so tired, this past week.

Enzo is nothing if not patient. So he waits, unbothered by the silence. Admiring the stars, and the flicker of their light. A vague worry simmers in his chest, however, and he can't stop himself from glancing down at you every now and then.

An insatiable yearning to soothe you gnaws at his heart

—but he can't, not unless you let him.

A sigh drops from your lips, suddenly. Deep and heavy, ike a rock thrown into the depths of a lake. The silence breaks.

"En...?"

The guy stays quiet, just humming inquisitively. He avoids eye contact, showing respect. He figures you'll spill what's on your mind more comfortably without him staring.

Your fingers lightly tap the rooftop tiles out of habit. You take in a bit of the midnight air—it's got that summer taste. "Remember how we first met?"

Enzo glances at you, surprise flickering in his eyes. He can't resist the urge to peek at your face, savoring your expression. Then, a chuckle escapes him. "Are you feeling sentimental?" he teases, a playful note in his voice, light and airy like seafoam. "Did you come out here just to reflect?"

The corners of his lips lift when he hears you huff, pulling your legs closer with a furrowed brow. Cheek pressed against your kneecap, you meet his gaze.

"Come on," you whine, pouting childishly, a trick you know will make him give in. "Just indulge me a little."

Enzo smiles, soft around the edges, radiating unmistakable fondness. He always indulges you. "Of course I do," he assures you.

The quiet settling between your words holds a tender understanding, a silent agreement.

"Of course, I remember. How could I forget? You broke into my backyard."

A sigh, weighty and pointed, escapes your lips. Enzo fights back a grin; his eyes dance with teasing mischief in the darkness as you shoot a glare his way.

"Okay, first of all," you begin, "I didn't break into anything. I climbed over the fence. Peacefully."

Enzo raises a brow. "That literally doesn't matter; it's still trespassing."

"I was seven years old!"

"Damn! Some of you criminals start young."

Another playful huff escapes you as you halfheartedly attempt to sound annoyed. Unsuccessful, you hide your growing smile by tucking your face into your knees. "Whatever."

Then your gaze shifts, drawn to the expanding starry sky, the vibrant flicker of the moon like a moth to a flame, helpless to its charms. It resembles a giant sponge cake, reminiscent of the ones you and Enzo used to make when that was the only recipe you knew – you'd eat from the batter, and he'd scold you. Then he'd do the same when your back was turned.

A smile graces your lips. In each star, a new memory unfolds, and the warm nostalgia surrounding you makes your heart feel exposed. "I just wanted to pet Ada" you reminisce, softly rememberig how little the cat was back then.

Enzo nods, his gaze directed at you, reveling in the expression on your face – tranquil and at ease, a bit more of yourself. Effortlessly lovely, bathed in moonlight. "Yeah, I remember."

He lets the memory carry him away for a moment or two, recalling the sight of you all those years ago, an unfamiliar child in his backyard. It was as if you had fallen from the sky – quiet and shy, yet with an excited glimmer in your eyes as you looked at his cat.

"You just pointed to her and expected me to understand," he continues, a grin blooming on his face, hopelessly endeared. "You were so shy back then."

A raise of your eyebrow. "Um? I'm still shy?"

Enzo gives you a look. He doesn't have to say anything – it's written all over his face. The classic Vogrincic look, the kind where you can tell he's itching to say, "Oh, really now?" The kind where he tries to appear judgmental but never quite manages to hide the amusement in his eyes.

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, and Enzo smiles once more, utterly captivated by your joy.

"Then we watched movies at my place,"

You hum. "It was fun."

"Yeah," he agrees.

Another spell of silence descends, tender and incredibly precious. The air is cool but not enough to make you shiver – a mild summer night, gentle on your skin and light on your heart. A soft breeze tousles your hair, and in the distance, cicadas buzz – a familiar, unchanging sound.

(If only everything else could remain the same, too.)

"Do you remember what movie it was?"

A lazy smile graces Enzo's lips as he turns to look at you, one eyebrow raised.

"Is there a point to this, or are you just trying to make m–"

"I just wanna reminisce."

Enzo pauses, observing your gaze as it wanders across the landscape, from the moon to the distant city lights. Absentmindedly fidgeting with the strings of your hoodie, you seem a bit lost, your eyes forgotten within the depths of the endless night sky.

No more teasing, he decides, choosing a more delicate approach. He answers your question softly, as if each octave of his voice could potentially cause you harm. "Whisper of the Heart," he reveals.

A little nod follows your hum of agreement. "Thats a top-tier one."

Enzo shifts his gaze away, muttering something under his breath. Still audible, though. "Spirited Away takes the cake..."

Catching a glimpse of your unimpressed look, he suppresses a soft laugh. His teeth graze his lip gently, just enough to avoid any sting.

"You're so basic," you playfully grin.

"You just want to feel special," Enzo retorts, quick on the uptake. "And you only like it because of Seji."

"You're only a Spirited Away fan because of Haku!"

Enzo closes his eyes, leans back a bit, crossing his arms in a somewhat childlike manner – a move aimed at drawing out laughter. "I don't know what you're talking about," he pretends.

"Oh, come on," you scoff. "Do you really think I've forgotten your sudden "enlightenment"?"

"Hm? What's that?" Feigning confusion, Enzo puts a hand to his ear, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "You'll have to come closer; I can't hear you from here."

Another unimpressed look accompanies your exhale, a mix of a scoff and a chuckle. "If I get any closer, I'll be in your lap, goofball."

Enzo bites his cheek gently, holding back the words that almost slip off his tongue.

(He wouldn't mind)

"Sorry, can you repeat that?" A playful nudge meets his shoulder as you roll your eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

The banter fades away as quickly as it came. Then, smiles break out across both your faces simultaneously, the atmosphere shifting into something more sincere. Doesn't it always when you're gazing at the starry sky with the one you love most?

As Enzo continues, his voice takes on that softer tone once again—the one thats only reserved for you. "I always liked imagining us as them," he confesses. "Me as Haku, and you as Chihiro."

A soft blink, and your smile sweetens like syrup. "...That's amusing," you cross your legs, palms flat against the roof, knee comfortably leaning against Enzo's. "I always thought of us as Seiji and Shizuku."

There's a distant look in your eyes, something Enzo can't look away from. Tentatively, his fingers press into the skin of his palms, and he speaks, absentminded and a bit uncertain. ".. they get married at the end, don't they?"

A pause, then your gaze locks onto Enzo's, suddenly mischievous – and he regrets opening his mouth.

"Oh?" you purr, almost beaming, closing the distance like a

predator sizing up its prey. "Oh, really? Is this a proposal, Mr. Vogrincic?"

"I'm just stating facts" he quips, hands raised in defense, hoping you won't notice the red tint creeping up his neck, hidden by the night.

"Incorrect facts," you grin. Whether you catch the blush or not, you don't mention it. "They get engaged, not married. Big difference."

Enzo huffs, small, trying to suppress a smile. The beat of his heart is faint, a gentle rhythm stirred by every move you make. He pushes back the words he longs to say. "I wouldn't mind that, either."

Once again, silence envelops you, weaving around the space between you. It's comforting, just being like this; you and your best friend under the moon's soft glow. As if you're the sole inhabitants of an otherwise vacant universe, free from space and time.

Like the night could pause and stretch on forever.

Yet, there's an unspoken question lingering. One Enzo is still waiting for you to answer. One you won't address until he does the same.

Both of you have noticed, even if no one else has – the turmoil in your eyes, the fatigue under his. Those subtle signs of stress as everything around you keeps twirling on, as the future approaches with every passing day.

"Remember how school felt like it would last forever, and now... it's all just a blur."

Enzo's eyes light up with nostalgia. "Yeah, the days when we believed we could conquer the world. Time goes by so quickly." He pauses, a wistful smile playing on his lips. "But hey, we had some pretty great adventures."

A soft laugh escapes you. "Adventures, mischief, and a fair share of detentions. I miss those days."

Enzo grins, "Our secret base, the pranks we pulled, and the dreams we shared. Life was simpler back then."

You sigh, "Simpler, but full of possibilities. Now everything feels like it's rushing by, and I can't keep up."

Enzo reaches for your hand, offering a comforting squeeze. "You're not alone in feeling that way. I miss the simplicity too, but some things haven't changed." He looks into your eyes, his gaze holding a depth of emotions.

"Yeah, your talent and that dream that's not a dream anymore En. Its now your reality, and I'm so proud of you, I'd always knew you'd make it" You said with a nostalgic smile on your face.

Deep down, you knew you'd end up losing him; he had everything to succeed in the industry.

Enzo meets your gaze, a hint of gratitude in his eyes. "Thank you, sweetheart... It means a lot to hear that from you."

As Enzo utters the endearment "sweetheart," a fluttering sensation courses through your stomach, a delicate dance of butterflies that seems to synchronize with the newfound warmth in your chest. With a surge of emotions enveloping you, you can't help but wrap your arms around Enzo's body, hugging him tightly and feeling the size difference between the both of you. A murmured "of course" escapes your lips.

The moonlight paints a soft glow around you both, and the distant sounds of the party create a gentle background melody. Enzo takes a moment after the hug, collecting his thoughts, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand.

"There's something I've been wanting to tell you for a long time, You know?" He starts, catching your eye. "Oh look who's reflecting now" You say as you laugh softly. "What is it?"

"These moments, right here, remind me of the times when life was simpler, and we were just two kids dreaming under the same sky." He pauses, searching for the right words.

"You know, when we were younger, I used to take you to the cinema, to the lake, even on your 15th birthday... Each time, I wanted to tell you something important, but I never found the right moment. It's been on my mind, and I'm tired of postponing it."

Your heart quickens at his words, confusion mingling with anticipation. Enzo's expression shifts, becoming more serious yet tender.

"Do you remember those times? I was trying to say that..." He hesitates a little, his eyes looking straight into yours, noticing how every single star can fit on your gaze "I'm in love with you. From the days of our childhood adventures to now, you've always been the girl of my dreams. I wanted to share my success with you because you've been my constant, my anchor."

The weight of his confession hangs in the air, and your mind races to process the revelation. Enzo continues, "I know that recently the world sees me as this actor, but to you, I just want to be Enzo. The boy you've known since we were seven. I'm tired of hiding my feelings, and I didn't want to lose another moment without letting you know."

Silence stretches between you, the memories of your shared past intertwining with the present. You're caught between the familiarity of nostalgia and the unexpected confession, yet, suddenly, some things start to make sense.

Enzo's eyes search yours, vulnerable and earnest.

"En, wait... what do you mean? In love with me? Like, as a friend or...?" Your words trail off, searching for clarity.

Enzo takes a deep breath, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. You can feel him shaking. "No I mean, romantically in love with you. Since we were kids, I've tried to tell you, but I never found the right moment."

Your eyes widen, replaying moments in your mind. "Wait, are you saying all those times – the cinema, the lake, my 15th birthday – you wanted to confess your feelings?"

Enzo nods, a mix of vulnerability and sincerity in his eyes. "Exactly. I kept hoping for the perfect moment, but life just kept moving too fast"

Your mind races, grappling with the revelation. Enzo continues, "What im trying to say is you've been the girl of my dreams since i can remember. I wanted to share my success with you, not just as an actor but as the person who's been my constant through it all."

Silence envelops the rooftop, the city of Montevideo below seemingly hushed in anticipation. Enzo looks at you, his expression a mosaic of hope and uncertainty.

After a moment of processing, you break into a soft laugh. "Enzo, this is... I... i just never saw this coming... oh my god"

With a warm smile, Enzo pulls you into a hug, and you reciprocate, embracing the familiarity of his presence. "Its okay if you dont feel the same... but I... I've just been carrying this for so long; it feels good to finally share it with you." He says with a sad tone.

As you're held in Enzo's embrace, the vulnerability of the moment encourages you to share your own feelings. "Enzo, no... Its not that, its just that I... I never thought you'd see me that way. I always felt like you were way too good for me, like I'd never be enough, so i always thought it'll be pointless to confess because you'll end up leaving me... And its just the thought of losing you as a friend and now knowing you've felt this way for so long, it's just overwhelming."

Enzo loosens the hug, gently holding your shoulders as he looks into your eyes. "You were always more than enough. I never wanted to risk our friendship, but holding back these feelings became harder as time went on. Our friendship means the world to me, and the fear of losing you kept me silent."

Tears glisten in your eyes as you continue, "I spent so many nights up here on this rooftop, wondering if I was just another friend among many for you. I never thought I could be the one you'd be in love with."

Enzo wipes away a tear with his thumb, a tender smile on his face. "You were never just another friend. You were the one who understood me, laughed with me, and stood by me through it all. And I've been in love with you since we were kids."

The weight of unspoken emotions finally laid bare, you share a bittersweet laugh. "Guess we were both too scared to ruin what we had."

Enzo nods, his hand now resting on your cheek. "Maybe, but holding back feels like a bigger risk now. I don't want to waste any more time, not when i don't know how much of it we have left"

As the moonlight bathes both of you, you take a deep breath and finally say, "Enzo, I've always been in love with you too."

A shared understanding and a newfound honesty linger in the air as Enzo leans in and his lips meets yours in a tender kiss, a culmination of years of unspoken emotions and shared moments. In that intimate exchange, the rooftop becomes a sanctuary for a new beginning, and just for that moment: time seems to stand still.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook/Taehyung/Jimin

L♡ve Triangle | TEASER

What happens when you put a painter, a dance teacher, and a personal trainer in one house with the person they all have a crush on?

Tags/Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Romance, so much bickering, Teasing, (heavy) flirting, Adult Themes (Aka you're all gonna be edged until the fic hits its climax towards the end oops), poly!AU, don't like it don't read it

Wordcount: ???

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━🐯🐰🐣━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

"All is fair in the fight for love." Taehyubg smirks from his corner, as Jungkook rolls his eyes.

"Well, be sure to remember your words then because I won't be holding back." He challenges, crossing his arms. "I'll win her heart in no time. You both can stay here and enjoy Yoongi's free vacation or something." He almost jokes, making Jimin frown.

"You act like she's already yours." He mumbles. "What if she doesn't choose you?" He asks, earning a look from Taehyung.

"Then obviously she'll choose me." He says.

"You don't know that. She knows me the longest-" jimin defends himself, causing Jungkook to click his tongue.

"Childhood friends to lovers almost never works out Jiminie, give it up." He hums towards his friend.

"Well, just because she chooses one doesn't mean she can't spend time with the other anymore. So it's not like I'll lock her up in my basement and never let her see the light of day again." Taehyung reassures.

"But, guys.." jimin sighs, running his hand through his hair. "You do know that we talked about already- and she said she can't choose." He says.

"Well,..." Jungkook mumbles, but for once doesn't have anything to say to this as he knows that his friend is correct.

"So what do we do if she chooses no one? Then we'll all lose her." The oldest of the group tries to reason with them, when Taehyng suddenly looks at both of them from his spot on the couch.

"What if we don't make her choose?" He proposes.

Everyone frowns, unsure what he's getting at.

"What if we just.. share?" Taehyung proposes. "Not in some.. weird kinky way. But I mean, genuinely." He says, trying to explain his point. "She already made it clear she can't choose. She also gave each of us very clear signs that she holds deeper affection than what one would have for 'just' a friend." The young man offers. "What if we share?"

"You mean a triangle-relationship?" Jungkook wonders, and Jimin laughs.

"It would be more of a square, Kook." He corrects his friend who draws a shape of a triangle, before Jimin interrupts by holding his hand. "Taehyung-" he points to one point in the air. "Me.." he moves his friend's hand to another. "You-" he moves it again until he looks at his friend with raised eyebrows.

"Oh right! We're four then.." jungkook exclaims, and Taehyung can't help but laugh with everyone in endearment for a second-

Until all of them look at each other, silently agreeing to the plan. If neither of them can have you because you refuse to choose, then why not do this?

Sharing is caring, after all- and yoongi never said how they were supposed to solve their love triangle at the end of this vacation, after all.

[d0llcuries]

Hey beautiful! What do you think it would be like to have a childhood love with Neteyam? I would love to see this written by you, your writing is impeccable❤️

TWO FLYING FAN LIZARDS

pairing(s): neteyam x fem!na'vi reader

summary: alongside a boy destined for greatness only, you suffer

author's note: my first ever request i am geeking out rn!!! ◝(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) ◜♡ this was such a delight to write and i truly hope it lives up to ur expectations :3 also pls send more requests i begggggggg. second also,, to gain the most out of your reading experience i recommend listening to “let you go” by clara la san

(i would link it but it doesn't work for sum reason ( ˶•ᴖ•) !!)

edit: oh wait nvm i figured it out :p

your earliest memories of neteyam are filled with the fond experiences of your shared childhood. you remember the days when your mothers would gather under the open sky, their laughter ringing out like music while you sat beside neteyam. he was the boy with golden eyes, always grinning, always curious, and with him, even the quietest moments seemed to hold something special.

you were shy, clinging to your mother’s side, too nervous to speak or even meet the gaze of others. but neteyam, with his patient nature, never made you feel awkward or rushed. his presence had a quiet sort of assurance, like he knew you'd come out of your shell when you were ready. all he had to do was wait. he was oh so patient and gentle with you in fear that by even speaking too loud he might scare you away from him. you didn’t have to say much, anyway; he’d simply be there, drawing you into his world without a single word.

one day, when you were no older than six, the two of you sat by a small stream, its crystal-clear waters bubbling softly as they wound their way through the lush, bioluminescent foliage. nearby, a pair of glowing fan lizards darted between the trees, their wings shimmering as they moved through the thick, humid air. neteyam pointed them out to you, comparing them to your friendship with him. “that would be us if we were kenten.” you laughed softly at his silliness. he always tried to make you laugh, being the one to make you smile brought him immense pleasure, even then.

“come on, let's go fishing.” he said, turning to look at you with that smile of his, the one that made your stomach feel fluttery and warm. you had only blinked at him, unsure of how to answer, you didn't know how to fish. but that didn’t stop him. he stood up, pulling you gently by the hand. “come on, i will show you how.”

and that’s how it was with him. he didn’t push you to speak when you didn’t want to. instead, he’d offer you his hand, his patience, and his unspoken promise that whatever he was leading you toward would always be safe.

you and neteyam shared countless quiet moments like that. together, you wove crowns from soft vines, his strong hands clumsy at first while your nimble ones worked with natural ease. when his attempts would unravel, he’d laugh, his cheeks flushing the faintest shade of blue, but you’d always fix it with a smile and a flower tucked behind his ear, then everything would be okay again.

as you grew older, you noticed that things began to change. not so much between you and neteyam—no, he was always the same, always there—but the world around you shifted. neteyam was growing into his role, becoming more of a warrior, more of a leader. he spent less time with you, not because he wanted to, but because he had to. training demanded long hours, and when he wasn’t training, he was surrounded by other boys—future warriors, like himself. there were fewer afternoons by the stream and more days where you’d find yourself watching him, your heart oddly heavy with despaira sickening feeling that made your nose burn. they laughed loudly, joked around in ways you couldn’t quite relate to. eywa.. the way your heart would twist when one of the girls would playfully shove him, her eyes bright with something you didn’t want to name. you didn’t like feeling jealous. it wasn’t something you were used to, and it made you uncomfortable. but there it was, that little knot of jealousy, always sitting heavy in your stomach whenever you saw him with someone else. maybe there was something wrong with you. while neteyam was the easygoing, confident and popular warrior, you were still the quiet one. the shy one. the one who couldn’t quite shake the feeling of being on the outside looking in.

you told yourself it didn’t matter, that this was just the way things were supposed to be, but it hurt. a lot more than you were willing to admit. you’d tell yourself it didn’t matter, you had your place in his life, but the ache in your chest told you otherwise. you couldn’t help but feel out of place, as if you were being left behind, still sitting on the sidelines while everyone else moved forward without you.

you missed him. you missed the quiet connection you shared, the way he’d look at you like you were the only person in the world. you missed having him all to yourself.

you wondered if he missed that too.

you couldn't even wallow in good conscience, either. he wasn't doing anything wrong, he hadn't hurt you intentionally. and it wasn’t that neteyam ignored you. he never did. whenever he saw you, his face would light up in that way that made your heart skip, and he’d always make time for you, even if it was just a brief moment between his training sessions. but it wasn’t the same. you weren’t the same.

you weren’t blind to the fact that some of the other boys teased him for it—hanging out with a girl, the way he always seemed to make sure you were okay, even when you were off to the side. they’d throw comments his way, playful jabs meant to make him feel embarrassed, but neteyam never let it bother him. he’d shrug it off, flash them that confident smile, and maybe toss back a joke of his own. but he never let their teasing get in the way of the way he treated you. you were his friend, his closest friend, and nothing anyone said would change that.

what you didn’t know was that neteyam never let their words change the way he saw you. no matter how much they teased or questioned why hung around you, he would always defend you, though he never told you as much. to him, you were more than just a childhood companion. you were the one who knew him in ways no one else did, the one he could always count on, even if the two of you had drifted a little. you were his person. the one he could be quiet with. the one he could just be neteyam with, not the future olo’eyktan, not the skilled hunter. just him. he’d speak of you in ways that made their words fall flat. he’d tell them about how skilled you were with weaving, how you had a way with animals that no one else did, how your quiet nature wasn’t a weakness but a strength. he’d say all these things with such conviction that eventually, the teasing would stop, and some of his friends even began to speak to you with a newfound respect. not that you ever knew why. no, neteyam never told you how he stood up for you, how he made sure everyone knew just how important you were to him.

he thought about you more than he should, really. even when he was training, his mind would wander, wondering what you were doing, if you were sitting by the stream like you used to, if you missed him the way he missed you. he never said anything, though. not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t know how. neteyam was a leader, a warrior—he wasn’t supposed to get caught up in feelings like this. but when it came to you, he couldn’t help it.

sometimes, he’d catch you watching him, your eyes soft and sad in a way that made his chest ache. and on those days, he’d find a way to slip away from the others, to find you and remind you that you still mattered to him. he’d sit with you in the quiet places, just like you used to, and you’d talk about everything and nothing all at once. or sometimes, you wouldn’t talk at all, and that was okay too. because being with you, even in silence, was always better than being anywhere else.

the years went on like that, this quiet dance between you. a push and pull that neither of you acknowledged but both of you felt. neteyam would go off and train, surround himself with the others, and you’d watch from a distance, feeling that familiar sting of jealousy. but then he’d come back to you, in those small stolen moments, and everything would feel right again.

in the stillness of the night, when the village had quieted and the stars blinked softly above, you would often find yourself beneath the great tree, kneeling before its glowing roots. with trembling hands, you’d reach out to the sacred tendrils, allowing them to intertwine with your queue, the warmth of tsaheylu forming a direct connection to eywa herself. as soon as the bond was made, a soft hum filled the air, a rhythm of life, and the world seemed to fade away. you would close your eyes, letting the sensation of eywa’s presence wrap around you, offering comfort to the ache deep within. through the bond, you would silently pour out your heart, sharing the loneliness that had taken root, the hurt of watching neteyam slip further into the world of others while you were left behind. you missed the days when he was yours—if only in the quiet ways no one else saw—and the memories of those moments felt like threads slowly unraveling in your hands.

as you made tsaheylu, eywa would listen, her presence gentle yet unwavering, and you could feel her understanding pulse through you, as if she too mourned the shifting tides of your life. you sought her wisdom, asking why it was that neteyam’s laughter with others felt like a knife to your chest, and why you no longer felt enough in his eyes. in that sacred connection, though, eywa offered something more than answers—she gave you peace, a quiet reminder that your worth was not tied to neteyam’s presence or absence. though your heart still ached, there was a growing strength within you, a stirring realization that you, too, were part of the balance of this world, and it was time to let yourself grow. the bond with eywa whispered gently, nudging you forward, reminding you that while you could not control neteyam’s path, you could choose your own, and in that, there was a power you had long forgotten.

it was clear that the great mother had heard you.

as time went on, you changed too. slowly but surely, your once-soft voice became stronger, more assured. you spoke up during gatherings, your words thoughtful and careful, earning the respect of those around you. your smile seemed a little brighter, your laugh rang out a little louder. even the other girls began to take notice, welcoming you into their circles in ways they hadn’t before. the quiet, shy girl he’d known since childhood was beginning to take up more space, stepping into her own.

the older women would often call on you, noticing the quiet grace with which you handled tasks. your hands had become deft at weaving intricate patterns into cloth, your fingers swift and sure, and soon enough, your skill was sought after for more than just small adornments. you became a familiar presence in the community, helping gather herbs for healers or assisting with the intricate beadwork on ceremonial attire. the elders would smile as you passed, offering words of praise, their eyes warm with approval as they watched you grow into yourself. in their gaze, you no longer felt like the shy girl trailing behind—there was a new respect, one you had earned for all by yourself.

neteyam was so proud of you. maybe now that you weren't so painfully uncomfortable in public settings, he could spend more time with you! you were more vibrant now, more seen. it was like the world was finally catching up to what neteyam had always known—that you were special. some of his friends, the very ones who used to tease him for spending so much time with you, began to gravitate toward you. they were curious, drawn in by the way you carried yourself now, with a grace and confidence that was undeniable. he’d catch glimpses of them laughing with you, their eyes lingering a little too long, and it stirred something in him that he didn’t quite understand at first. it was a strange, uncomfortable feeling—one that settled deep in his chest, coiling tight and hot.

his now, increasingly annoying, friends admired you, spoke of you in ways that made him violet with discomfort. neteyam didn’t like it. he didn’t like the way they looked at you, as if they were seeing something new in you, something that had always been his to see. he wasn’t used to sharing you like this, wasn’t used to watching other people discover the parts of you that he had cherished in private. it didn’t sit well with him, though he told himself it was just because things were changing, and change was always hard.

the realization hit him one afternoon, as he watched one of his friends catch your attention, making you laugh in that bright, easy way of yours. neteyam felt a pang of something sharp and uncomfortable, something that burned hot in his chest. jealousy. it was jealousy. and with it came the sudden, undeniable truth that he’d been avoiding for far too long.

you weren’t just his childhood friend anymore. you weren’t just the girl he’d spent years playing with, weaving crowns by the stream and catching the light in the water. you were more than that. you were special in a way he hadn’t fully understood until now, and the thought of someone else seeing you like that—of someone else making you smile the way he always had—made him feel like he was losing something important.

in that moment, as he watched you laugh, so vibrant and full of life, neteyam realized what he had been denying for far too long. maybe you weren’t just his closest friend. maybe you were more than just the girl who had always been by his side. maybe, just maybe, he liked you in a way that made his heart race and his thoughts stumble. it was a slow realization, creeping up on him like the setting sun, and by the time it fully settled in his chest, he knew. this wasn’t just friendship anymore.

lmk if this whole “shy yn” bit is annoying or uncomfortable, it feels like the most comfortable thing to write for me but i can swing in any direction u guys preferrrr

[llitaahue]

another year... 🍮🎀📖

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 written 19.7.24, 8:11 a.m.

it has come to the end of this school year and i find that though it's only been one academic year, i have experienced the biggest era of change throughout this past year than i have ever in my entire life. since last year, i have grown indescribable amounts, having met new people, developed a new mindset, found new interests, started new projects, worked so hard, learnt so much to aid in my academic and personal life that i have become a completely different person.

at the beginning of this year, i resented who i was in the year prior. i hated who i was before and i wanted so badly to be different, to feel different, to be anything but what i was. i was motivated but depressed and hopeful but anxious, flitting back and forth between emotions and feelings and ideas on what i wanted to do.

my only main goal for this year was to become the girl i want to be. i know for a fact i've definitely got what i wanted, even if it is not to the extent i wanted it just yet.

i was crawling back up the ladder from rock bottom at the beginning of this year and now i'm over halfway up the ladder, and writing this i've come to the realisation i don't give myself half as much credit as i should. i have done so well. i am so proud of myself, and as i should be. as human beings, we automatically hyperfocus on our failings and shortcomings, and fail to give ourselves the amount of credit we'd give anyone else. but i have done freaking amazing for where i was a year ago. well done to me from last year!!! ♡

the word surprise doesn't even scratch the surface of how utterly shocked i am that i am halfway through high school already. mentally, i'm still in primary, playing with my friends and drinking orange juice and eating pretzels on the playground at break, but i know that can't be the case forever and i'm slowly coming to accept that nostalgia and anemoia are just feelings i have to not overcome, but learn to live with and treat with kindness and fondness, just as i would any other emotions.

as much as i miss primary days when i didn't have the fast approaching, low looming fear of exams and jobs and finances and The Future as a whole, life is evermoving and everchanging in its fluidity and therefore i must be the same and yearning for a past i can barely remember as the days go by and a fragile, dreamlike childhood i'll never get back. in the end, there is nothing we can do but move forward.

so, another year comes, and i do all i can ever do; move forward, another step closer to the future. even as you grow, your heart will always stay the same, and that brings more comfort than any wistful memory ever could. i'm going to enjoy this break as much as i can, and i look forward to this coming year and making it something beautiful i can recall with a fond yet heavy heart, just as i do with the years already passed. ♡

[subskz]

hi ms. rin!! long time no see ☺️

i was always reading your works & all your amazing posts but i realize today it was a long time since i sent an ask >< i hope you’re doing great!

i wanted to ask if you’re still writing the childhood friends to lovers with lee know? ever since butterfly bandage i was craving to read another longfic from you cause you write so beautifully :< & with minho being my bias i think i’ll die if you make a story for him..! not to pressure you of course 💕

-🧸

hello hello omg it really has been a while!! it’s so nice to see you again my dear i hope you’ve been doing well and taking care since we last spoke ♡

you’re too kind thank u so much for your lovely words!! it’s so sweet that u even remember i was writing that lino fic i’m really glad you’re looking forward to it 😭 it’s still very much a wip so i’m not exactly sure when it’ll be out, but i work on it all the time! here’s a few lil sneak peeks just for u hehe

also please note that a lot of this is subject to change since i’m still working on it 😽 these snippets are still a bit barebones

ᓚᘏᗢ — snippet 1

You stared at the crumpled nest; abandoned, with what was left of it quickly being carried away by the wind. Straw by straw. You felt like crying.

Don’t be so sensitive. You told yourself. It's just a stupid bird.

“Wow,” a familiar voice, soft and brusque and not sounding very wowed at all, came from behind you. “That’s amazing, isn’t it?”

You lifted your head, whipping around to find its source. Not that you really needed to, anyway. You knew that voice better than your own, by now.

“Huh?”

“They were just babies, but they already flew away.” Minho crouched down next to you to examine the remains of the fallen nest. His small fingers brushed over it, so delicately that the grass barely shifted under his touch. “Like they know exactly where they’re supposed to go.”

You rested your hands on your knees, unconvinced, refusing to look at him. Your eyes were stinging. You didn’t want him to think you were dramatic. You didn’t want him to make fun of you. He’d put just as much care into looking after them, if not more. He’d stayed with them even longer than you had. How could he be so accepting of it?

“Birds are so cool,” he continued. A gentle breeze ruffled your hair, like it was summoned by his airy lilt. “They can go wherever they want.”

“Why do they have to go?” you muttered.

“Cause the world’s so big, dummy,” he said it like common knowledge, like he’d consulted the birds himself. “And they’re so small. So they gotta start seeing it early before they die.”

You puffed out a half-hearted laugh.

“You’re like a bird,” you decided.

“Mm?”

“You do what you wanna and go where you wanna.”

“I can’t be a bird,” Minho sniffed. “They fly too high. I'm more like a cat, ‘cause no matter where they go, they always know how to find their way home.”

“Like Soonie,” you said.

“Like Soonie,” he agreed. “Remember when he was gone for three days? But then he showed up again like nothing happened?”

“You cried a lot,” you giggled.

Minho huffed, looking away. “I knew he’d come back.” 

It had been one of the only times you’d ever seen him cry in your four years of friendship. He might’ve completely denied crying altogether if the subject were anything other than his beloved cat. His little brother.

“So you’ll always come back, too? Like Soonie?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “I'm gonna be here ‘til I'm at least 100, or else someone will take our spot under the maple tree.”

ᓚᘏᗢ — snippet 2

Minho’s hand reached for yours. It was shaking.

“If you're scared, I can stay with you,” he offered. You could tell he was trying to sound casual, but there was an undeniable tremor there. Not breezy, not carefree; thick and heavy with apprehension. It weighed down your conscience. “It’ll be embarrassing if you’re the only one in class left behind, right?”

You remembered how he’d reacted when you traveled up to the mountains last summer, how he’d turned away from the window when the car drove along the edge of the road, with nothing but a flimsy, rusting metal barrier standing between you and several thousand foot fall. You remembered how much trouble he’d had walking straight when you first arrived at the campsite, strangely quiet, muttering to himself about how high up it was. It was too high, the air was too thin, the world was too far away. 

Those were the issues, of course. The issue certainly wasn’t that he was terrified out of his mind. A cat stuck in a tree, longing to accept help without sacrificing his pride. Unsure whether to hiss at whoever came near, or leap into their arms. He’d grabbed your hand the exact same way, back then. 

“Okay,” you replied.

He perked up, features flashing with a hopefulness that was almost enough to break your facade. 

“Hm?”

It would’ve been so easy in that moment, to tease him. To call him out, gain the upper hand on him for once in six years. But looking at those eyes—round and bright and gleaming under his glasses with an innocence that effectively wiped away every annoying thing he’d ever done from your memory, you just couldn’t bring yourself to. 

“Let’s skip the rollercoaster,” you said plainly. “I’m scared.”

You weren’t, strangely enough. You wondered if Minho knew that. Of the two of you, he was undoubtedly the risk taker. His mind was too capricious to not explore every possibility there was, to not absorb everything the world had to offer until he found himself in it. It was almost exhilarating for you, to be the adventurous one, for a change. To be the one who didn’t hold yourself back.

You wanted to be bold. You wanted to be fearless. You wanted to impress him. 

But more than any of that, you wanted to stay with him. You didn’t want him to sit alone on the amusement park bench, watching his classmates have fun without him as he fumbled with the wrapping of a snack he couldn’t eat, because the anxiety had made his stomach hurt. 

“Seriously,” his grin was weak, but as he laced your fingers together properly, you could feel the quiver in his hand begin to calm. “What would you do without me?”

You simply grunted, allowing him to tug you along to the bench. You didn’t want to think about it. It was playful, not really seeking a response, but that didn’t stop his question from lingering in the back of your mind. Like a part of you knew that, sooner or later, you’d have no choice but to find the answer.

[ranhaitanisgf]

Can I request "childjood friends to lovers + dancing in the rain" fluff scenario with Jyugo?

For example: here they are going to the roof together and suddenly it starts to rain. (Y/n) invites him to dance together and after that they confess their feelings to each other.

And maybe during the dance they will remember common moments from the past and confess? If it's too tricky, you don't have to add it.

Also congrats on 2k! You deserve it

(*˘︶˘*).｡*♡

— jyugo // childhood friends to lovers // dancing in the rain

[𖤐] hello anon!! thank you for requesting for nanbaka I APPRECIATE U!! also i loved this omgggg. it's not ENTIRELY fluff but trust its stillf fluffy okay. i just added in a smidgeon of jyugos self doubr cause thats how he be. anywho. enjoy my lovelies !! xoxo

wc: 1.1k+

masterlist || 2k masterlist

“oh…” opening the door to the balcony revealed the heavy rain that was falling, the droplets hitting hard as they created a downpour. “well i guess we’ll just go back then.” jyugo started to close the door to head back downstairs, but you stopped him, keeping the door open. 

“why don’t we just go anyways?” 

“huh?” 

“you heard me! let’s just go anyways!” you giggled. it wasn’t something that was out of the ordinary for you; ever since the two of you were kids, you would want to do things that baffled him. and of course, this was no different. 

“i guess we can, but you could get sick, (y/n)...”

“life is meant for living, jyugo! c’mon, let’s go!” before he could protest, you had already grabbed his hand and dragged him out into the rain. he let out a yelp at the cold rain, the heavy downpour almost immediately soaking his clothing, as well as yours. as he stood there, already shivering, you started twirling around and…dancing? there wasn’t even any music, so what were you dancing to? 

“hey, dance with me?” 

“what? there isn’t even any music??” 

“okay, and? i’m not seeing your point. don’t you just wanna dance with me?” you asked him, a bit of a frown playing along your lips as you held your hand out to him. even though he knew the frown was just for you to get him to dance out of guilt, he still couldn’t help but feel the twinge of sadness in him at seeing the sad expression on you. 

“...fine.” as soon as he hesitantly grabbed your hand, you pulled him with you, making him almost stumble over his feet in surprise. 

there was no rhyme or rhythm to your dancing, and even though he was rather clumsy with accompanying you, you didn’t seem to mind at all. 

as he watched you, he noticed a lot of things. 

your hair was plastered all over your face, the wet strands sticking onto your skin in all different kinds of patterns. the droplets of water that were falling on you slowly slid down your cheeks and down onto your neck, soaking into your clothing. your lips were upturned into a joyous smile that made his heart feel all warm and fuzzy. 

the cold stone floor of the cell had long since made his legs numb. counting all of the different bricks in the wall had grown boring once he reached 1,000, so he had just been staring at the wall ever since. it was times like these that ate away at his mind. 

“jyugo? are you awake?” looking to the side, he saw you in the cell to his left, sitting right next to the bars. 

“i thought you were sleeping.” 

“i was, but i had a bad dream. will you keep me company over here?” you asked, a slight quiver to your voice. it was obvious you didn’t want him to think you were weak, but you couldn’t help the fact that you had been spooked. 

“...sure.” scooting over to the partition, jyugo leaned his back against the bars, his head slightly turning to face you. as he got a closer look, he noticed that your eyes were a bit bloodshot and that you had some slight under eye bags. it seemed like you hadn’t been getting a good sleep lately. 

suddenly feeling a warmth in his hand, he looked down to see that you had clasped onto his hand with yours. the warmth from your hand seemed to travel throughout his whole body, making his once cold body warm. 

“goodnight, jyugo.” he kinda liked the way you said his name. 

“yeah, ‘night…” 

“do you know how to waltz?” 

“uh, no…” 

“haha, it’s fine; i don’t know either. i always kinda wanted to learn though, you know?” you suddenly got a whole lot closer to him, making him want to take a step back. he doesn’t though; he just swallows a bit and tries to act calm. 

“why do you wanna learn?” 

“‘cause i think it would be nice if we could dance to a waltz one day…i don’t know, it just sounds very lovely.” you sighed, a small smile on your lips. “can i slow dance with you?” 

“what- uh- i mean…i don’t know how to…” the question took jyugo by surprise; is that what you were intending to do? 

“it’s okay silly, you just sway back and forth!” you took his moment of silence as a ‘yes’, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning in close to him. 

jyugo froze, unsure of what to do and where to place his hands. all he knew was that you were close, so close, and it was messing him up a bit. what was he supposed to do again? 

shakily, he put his hands near your hips, his fingers hovering over your figure and just barely touching you. although he was still very stiff, he started to move the same way you were. even though the two of you were getting soaked by the rain, the warmth of your body against his was making his whole body warm. he hoped you couldn’t hear the way his heart was beating right now. 

“jyugo?” 

“uh, y-yeah?” 

“...” 

“...(y/n)?” 

“i like you.” for a second time, jyugo froze up, his limbs going stiff at your words. “i really like you. i’ve been so scared to ruin our friendship, but i felt like if i didn’t tell you now i never would, and i had to tell you or else i would explode from just wanting to tell you. i don’t know.” you buried your face further into his chest, taking his silence as a not good sign. “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have said anything. this was a mistake, so please just forget it happened.” 

it was only when you started to think it was a mistake that jyugo finally unfroze. 

“wait, no, i’m sorry. i was just…i just…i didn’t know what to say. it…it’s not a mistake. you’re too good for me though; if you stay with me, there won’t be good things for you.” at his words, you suddenly looked up angrily, seeing the pained look on his face as he looked away. 

“jyugo, can you shut up about that and just tell me if you like me back? i want to be by your side forever, even if that means that there will be bad things.” 

“but, (y/n)-”

“do you like me too?” 

“...yes.” in an instant, the smile that always made his heart skip a beat was back on your face. 

“see, it wasn’t that hard!” you leaned up, pressing your lips against his cheek, wet from the rain. “just let me be by your side. that’s all i ask.” 

jyugo’s heart almost exploded.

[chryblossomjjk]

bts fic recommendations | 01.17.23

→ hi friends! this is a little segment i do every tuesday (reviewsday get it, aren’t i funny, pls tell me how funny i am) where i read and review two-three fics. as a content creator, i know how big of a role other creators play in your growth, therefore, i want to do my part in making sure everyone gets the recognition they deserve! so with that being said, please check out the amazing fics listed below. make sure to like, reblog, and leave feedback! ♡ #reviewsday #kikirecs

motor head - @jeonjcngkook (jjk x reader | fwb, angst, smut, pwp)

summary: jungkook doesn’t like seeing someone else have your attention, so he decides he’s gonna do something about it.

feel like ive been here since the conception of this majesty?? like i was here for the horny discord chats n edits about motorcycle jk, therefore, it's only fair that i can gatekeeper him... mine. ALSO NOT U STARTING IT OFF W GETTING SANDWICHED BETWEEN MY BIAS N BIAS WRECKER?? THE DISRESPECT OF IT ALL!!!

^the feminism leaving my body when sav writes about jk manhandling oc n having her use his bike as a vibrator

^^me regaining the feminism when she whips a whole tape measure at him theme shits is HEAVY LMAO

also like... your brain w this fucking smut bro?!?! it's literally one of the hottest smuts ive read in a v v v long fucking time?? THE JUMPER CABLE HANDCUFFS LIKE GTFO??? SHAKESPEAREAN OF SMUT REALLY!! and i completely get where oc is coming from bc some of the things he said had me side eyeing like... repressed feelings maybe? but then is he just super possessive and his anger/hurt came from ego n not emotions... genuinely love when the characters are hard to read like thats everything. n she better fuck taehyung >:( BUT RUN DONT WALK TO READ THIS UGH IT WAS SO GOOD BBY LIKE NO WONDER SHE WAS DOING ROUNDS IN THE TAGS!!!!!!!

tales of broken hearts - @taegularities (kth x reader | ex2l, childhood sweethearts, fluff, angst, smut)

summary: when a work trip brings you back home, you don't expect for anyone to await your return or remember you. but despite the time apart, taehyung still does - still looks at you the same way he used to five winters ago.

rid, im not joking when i say this is everything i want in a fanfic. like ex2l always gets me, and you legit mastered it with this one. something about right person wrong time just does it for me. that opening line was so simple but so so so beautiful:

"Love doesn't bloom during frigid winters."

and your ability to fully write in the pov of the character that you've crafted is nutty. like on the outside, it seems like a simple thing to do, but ik from experience that it's really not. like the way you perfectly represented oc's bleakness in the beginning through the word choices, that only shifts when taehyung is being discussed, is a1 storytelling. and same with him, like even when things are falling apart, the metaphor compares oc to a star, n that's how he sees her despite the circumstances. IM EMOTIONAL!!!

and idk dude i think i feel so strongly about this piece bc i relate to this oc sooo much. like the way ur desire to get out of ur current situation bleeds into every aspect of ur life n ruins relationships n u end up even worse than u started off in a lot of ways- NOT THIS FIC BEING A WHOLE HIT PIECE RID LMAO >:(

they deserve eachother sm and oc deserves a happy easy love and THE ROUNDABOUT MOMENT IN THE END LIKE ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME I LOVE WHEN EVERYTHING TIES IN AND UGH I FUCKING CAN'T THIS WAS A MASTERPIECE LIKE I NEED TO SEE THIS ON FILM BBY THE BIG SCREEN!!!!!!!

posting this a lil early but who gaf :')

[hinatastinygiant]

4 | The Risky Notion

Pairing: Naoto Tachibana x Fem!Reader

Shameless Masterlist

A little while later, Naoto enters the room with another officer by his side. You look up at him with a blank expression on your face. The atmosphere feels heavy with anticipation, and you can't help but wonder what he's here for now. You ask, devoid of all emotion, "What is it this time?" Although, what you really want to ask is Did you delete all the evidence?

Naoto clears his throat before speaking. "The arrangements have been made for you to be transferred to a holding cell." 

Your eyes widen in disbelief as you blurt out, "You're transferring me?!"

He nods, his expression stern. "Yes, I'm done questioning you. In fact, your trial will be expedited, so it should be a quick process."

Frustration surges within you, and you stand up, feeling a mix of anger and helplessness. The other officer beside Naoto chimes in, "Don't make a big deal about this. It just makes my job harder, is all."

You shoot him a defiant look and retort, "Lazy, that's what you are."

Naoto glances at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Thanks, Officer Gullivan," he says, addressing the other officer.

Your heart sinks as you realize who he is- Sam Gullivan- the same person you mentioned earlier, the one who tried to kiss you at your tenth birthday party. The memories flood back, but you force yourself to look away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he affected you.

Gullivan unlocks your cuffs, and you hear him say, "C'mon, Y/N, let's go."

One last time you call out to Naoto, hoping for some form of help or even a bit of acknowledgment. However, he makes sure to completely ignore you, leaving you feeling abandoned and frustrated.

As you're pushed toward the door, you shout, "This isn't over, Tachibana!" But it falls on deaf ears as you're taken away, unsure of what awaits you in the holding cell and the impending trial.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

NAOTO'S P.O.V.

I'm not sure why, but after Y/N was escorted to a holding cell, I was called up to the front lobby. There, I notice a vaguely familiar-looking man, and as he extended his hand, introducing himself as Mr. L/N, it clicked. This is Y/N's father, the man I haven't seen since I was about thirteen years old. My heart sinks, knowing I will have to be careful with my words.

"How's my daughter holding up?" he asks, concern etched on his face. I gulp, not sure how to respond. Memories of our childhood flash before me as he finally recognizes me 'from when Y/N was little'.

He then pulls something out of his pocket and, as he does, I notice how similar some of his and Y/N's features are. It's definitely him. And then, he pulls out an old, weathered photograph of Y/N and me as children, arms wrapped around each other, beaming with smiles. "That's you, isn't it?" he asks as the image begins to bring back a flood of memories of the bond we once shared. I nod at him.

Mr. L/N,'s voice quivers with regret as he then says, "I remember when this was taken... on her tenth birthday, right after she punched some twerp in the face." His words strike a chord as I recall how Y/N always stood up for me, braved everything, even though I always tried to make it seem like the other way around.

"She's not just a criminal; she's a troubled soul who needs a chance to change her path," he then pleads. "I don't want her to end up like me."

"How did you know she was here?" I then question as he hands me the photograph.

"Y/N's mother called me, hoping I could do something to help. Keep the picture," he nods at me.

I feel torn, knowing how stupid it is to even have to be in the position I've found myself in. "I can't promise anything, Mr. L/N."

"You like her, don't you," he then blurts out. How the hell did he figure it out that quickly? "I'm pretty sure you always did. I know it seems like the right thing to lock her up but c'mon, man, don't blow your chance with her."

"Sir, I-" I then begin to protest. However, he puts his hand up to stop me and it honestly is relieving. I didn't really know what to say next anyway.

"I get it, no promises, right? I'm just glad she's got you so she doesn't feel totally abandoned. I know from experience how it feels," he shakes his head and looks as though he's about to turn and leave before saying, "Oh, and please don't tell Y/N that I was here. I don't want to burden her any further."

After he leaves, Officer Gullivan approaches me with his usual crude remarks about Y/N. "Man, he's a fucking creep. Still kinda pissed he never approved of me tryna get with Y/N, but hey, since he's not really around anymore he can't in the way, right?" he grins like a fucking asshole.

Frustration and anger swells inside me, and before I knew it, I couldn't hold back anymore. I punch him square in the face, unable to tolerate his disrespect toward Y/N. What can I say? The guy deserved it.

After that, I walk off, needing some space to process everything. I head to the bathroom, washing my face and hands. As I dry them off, the photograph falls out, catching my attention once again.

Y/N's father's words echo in my mind, and I can't shake the notion that he was right. I knew Y/N made mistakes, but something about his plea lingers in my thoughts.

"I know she is guilty," I admit to myself as I pick up the old photograph, "but I can't let her rot in jail. Especially not if she has feelings for me, too."

I curse to myself as I wander back to the lobby and swipe a set of keys from off the receptionist's desk.

Shameless Masterlist

[tojisbbg]

✭ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 ✭

❝i just wanna see you shine ‘cause i know you are a stargirl.❞

♡ shinichiro sano ♡

pt.1, pt. 2 

a/n: this is my first time writing on tumblr so i decided to write about shinichiro first cuz finding fluff/smut about him is so rare. i hope you enjoy! let me know your thoughts in the comments. <3

➢ content: childhood friends, fluff, romance, friends to lovers, shinichiro is whipped for y/n, smut, not checked for grammatical errors.                                  

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶  ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶     ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

“what’s wrong?” you asked the driver, watching the man grunting in frustration as he kept on trying to churn the ignition key to get your car started again, but the car refused to budge. 

“not too sure, ma’am. it was working perfectly fine this morning when you sent me out to pick up your luggages. maybe the cables aren’t working too well or something. sorry, i’ll try to fix the car up as soon as possible.” he slightly stuttered, getting a bit nervous as he thought that you’d be like one of those cruel bosses that fire employees for things that they’re not responsible for. 

“hey, don’t get so worked up, it’s okay. i think i have a solution.” you grinned, making your driver look at you with pure confusion. 

“you know how to fix cars?” the look on his face was priceless, as he stared at you dumbfounded. 

“no, but i know someone who does. i’m gonna uber there, meanwhile, you stay here and have the car towed at this location. i’ll see you then.” you suggested, making your driver shrug as he went along with your plan. 

you arrived in tokyo early this morning, not even having the time to get some sleep at your own house. 

well, new house, to you at least. you brought your parents a huge place a few months back, which wasn’t too far away from where you lived before. but, it’s been about five years since you’ve last stepped your foot back in japan. 

you’ve been studying in the states, getting cast in for movies and tv shows during your rookie years, which surprisingly shot you straight into fame. you’ve been quite busy with your acting career, not even having the time to tend your own needs, such as making time to focus on your mental and physical health. 

you’ve shed off a couple pounds, probably a little more than just baby fat. either way, you were happy and satisfied with the way you looked before and now. after all, a certain someone would always remind you of how gorgeous you’d always look in his eyes. 

you felt really guilty for losing connection with all of your friends and families, barely even having the time to speak with your own parents. which is why you were happy that you were back home. hopefully, everyone would cut you some slack. 

your uber finally came to a stop, politely announcing that you’ve arrived to your destination. you grabbed your purse and thanked the uber driver as you got out of the car. you looked in front of you, the huge shop that had many motorcyles lined up, glistening from the bright lighting from inside as you beaked from the glass windows. 

s.s motorcycle shop.

unknowingly, your lips curled upwards into a smile. happy was an underestimating term to describe how you were feeling right now. you just felt so proud of shinichiro for being able to make his dream come into reality. you always knew that he could make it, and you weren’t wrong. 

he’s just too fucking amazing.

for some reason, your knees felt heavy and your heart pounded inside your chest from anxiety. you felt it a little difficult to breathe, turning away as you tried to decide whether you should step in or not. 

would he still remember you? is he mad at you for not calling him for thanksgiving or on christmas? what about mikey, will he ever forgive you for not calling to wish him a happy birthday? 

the question that bothered you the most was, what if shin had a girlfriend? were you too late?

the mere thought of that made your eyes water, as you quickly tried to shoo it away, not wanting to ruin the eyeliner that took you ages to perfect. 

fuck it. 

you breathed out before pushing the glass door, hearing a small chime of little bells on top of your head, indicating that someone came. 

“inupi! could you take that for me?” you heard someone in the back yell, immediately recognizing who owned the voice. to your surprise, his voice didn’t change much, aside from getting an octave deeper. 

“yeah, i gotchu, shin!” the other person responded, to which you soon saw a fairly tall man walking towards your direction from the back. he was in an all blue jumpsuit, wiping his greasy hands on the rag as he inched closer. 

he had shoulder-length blonde hair, a huge scar covering the upper left side of his face. 

“welcome to s.s motorcycle shop, what can i help you with?” he asked, offering you a small smile. 

“uh, can i talk to shinichiro?” you fiddled with the rings on your fingers, getting a bit awkward from the conversation. the guy thinned his lips, shaking his head. 

“sorry, he’s a little busy right now. but, i got him covered at the moment. so, what seems to be the problem? flat tire? oil change? engine leaks?” this inupi guy tried to insist you on allowing him to help you with your services. 

“i don’t think shin’s gonna mind sparing a few minutes of his time to catch up with his childhood best friend.” you bluntly responded, catching him off guard as inui looked at you with a face of slight disbelief. 

“huh?” he blurted out.

“oh, by the way, i’m y/n. the tow company is bringing my car here in a bit. my driver should be there too, so just give him my name. thanks, inupi.” you patted his shoulder before walking off to head towards the back of the shop, leaving poor inui confused and flustered. 

you turned the corner and saw a small room where a beautiful lavender colored motorcycle was currently being worked on. you leaned on the doorway, watching shinichiro tighten some screws with a wrench as his back was turned towards you, him being completely unaware of your presence. the surrounding ground was littered with different tools. 

“you think you could squeeze in some time to look at my car for me, sano?” you asked, a smirk dancing on your lips as you saw shinichiro’s movements coming to a halt. his head turned to look at you, his eyes widening to the size of two full moons. 

“what the fu.. y/n?!” he frantically yelled, dropping the wrench out of his hand as he quickly got up, rushing over to you as he caged you in a hug. you chuckled in his embrace, feeling his arms tightening around your waist as he dug his face in the crook of your neck, as if he was afraid that you’d run away from him again. 

the familiar smell of gasoline and other vehicle parts filled your nose, a strange form of comfort to say the least. you remember the days in your middle school and high school days where you’d spent the evenings in front of shin’s garage as he fixed his grandpa’s car or mikey’s old worn-out moped while your deftones playlist was on shuffle in the background. 

“i missed you so much, y/n.” his voice came out as a muffled croak, as you soon felt something wet on your shoulders. shinichiro sniffled, a little embarrassed to pull away and have you see him crying to you like a baby when he was supposed to be a grown man. 

but, he couldn’t help it. 

he still remembers as clear as day, waiting for you in front of your house patiently so that you both could walk to school together as per usual. he had big plans for that day, wanting to try out the new noodle place that opened up down the block. after some time had passed, he realized that it was pretty unusual of you to be this late. 

so, he went up to your door and knocked. your mother soon opened it and saw the boy look at her with a concerned face, quickly asking if you were okay. she tried to explain the situation as calmly as possible, not wanting to hurt him as she knew how close you both were. 

the woman saw how his face dropped, eyes becoming glossy as he tried to avoid making eye contact. your mother felt bad for him, but she tried to reassure him that you’d be calling him soon and that your return would also be soon as well. she told him to come over for dinner that night with the rest of his family. 

shinichiro walked to school alone that day, for the first time ever. the days where you couldn’t make it to school would be if you were sick, to which shin would miss school as well in order to nurse you back to health. so, walking alone to school felt weird and wrong, but it was something that he would get used to as many years passed by.

to shinichiro’s dismay, he never got a phone call or text from you. he tried many times to reach out to you, leaving so many voicemails and emails to your business and private numbers and emails. he even tried to contact your manager, to which she told him that he should hear back from you shortly. but of course, with the sea of emails and voicemails from directors and fans, shin’s methods of trying to get a hold of you would go down in the drain. 

“i missed you too, shin. i’m so sorry for not calling.” your voice broke, eyes stinging with tears as you felt him crying a little harder in your arms. you stroked the back of his head, mumbling so many ‘sorry’s’ to him. 

he suddenly pulled away, looking down at you with a pretty smile. he was still as handsome as ever, even if he was just wearing a simple white t-shirt and black jeans. shinichiro wiped away his tears before cupping your face between his warm calloused palms, a pout forming on your lips as he squished your cheeks slightly. 

“i can’t believe my stargirl is back. woahh, look at that gorgeous face that i missed looking at every day. damn, y/n. i missed it all so much. those pretty doey eyes staring at me while fixed a tire or something, this cute little nose, squishy cheeks and your cute litle lips. fuck, i really missed you, y/n.” he breathed out, leaning forwards to place a loving kiss on your cheeks, a small tint of pink now painting them. 

“you’re still smooth with your words, sano. you’re making me feel like i’m in high school all over again.” you giggled, ruffling his hair as he chuckled. 

“hey, tell you what. i’ll leave the shop early today so that we could have dinner together with mikey and emma. mikey will most likely have a stroke, but i can’t blame him, he missed you so much for the past five years. in the meantime, i’ll have your car fixed up by tomorrow morning.” shinichiro smiled, looking at you with the most gentle eyes known to mankind. it set your soul on fire, to have a man look at you with such love and adoration. it was like you never left, he never changed, always being as generous as he could. 

“sounds like a plan, i’ll see you at dinner then.” you excitedly beamed, going on your tippy-toes to press a soft kiss on his cheek. he stood there, awe struck as he looked at you with hearts in his eyes. 

you waved him goodbye before leaving the small room as you walked to the front of the shop. you pulled the glass doors to exit the shop, seeing your car parked on the side, you driver attentively watching the blonde who was examining the condition of your car’s engine. 

“miss y/n!” your driver called out. inupi now redirected his attention to you as you walked closer to them. 

“thanks for getting my car here, you could go home for today.” you dismissed the driver as he thanked you before leaving. 

“you famous around here or something, miss y/n?” inupi asked, slightly mocking you which you found to be quite amusing. 

“uhm, something like that. i’m an actress.” you replied, seeing him cock an eyebrow. 

“that’s pretty cool, never knew shin had famous people on his friends list.” he mumbled to himself, trying to connect some of the cables that were latched onto your engine. 

“i’m not as famous as angelina jolie or something. still pretty much a rookie, so i have a long way to go.” you added on, trying to not come off as an arogant person.

“i see, well, i’ll be sure to search you up later on and watch some of your movies for sure.” inupi chirped, making you laugh as you both waved each other goodbye before you went your own separate way. 

...

the clock struck eight in the evening and you just finished spraying on some perfume. it was a simple dinner at the sano’s, just like the olden times, so you decided to keep it simple and casual with a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. 

you made sure to grab the three gift bags that you prepared with care all evening, your room now a huge mess from how messily you rummaged through your luggage to pull out these presents. 

“y/n, give this to shin for me, please.” your mom gave you a foil pan that you knew was filled with her famous tirimisu. 

“will do, ma’am. i’ll see you later, mom.” you said, opening the door before closing it behind you, deciding to walk to shin’s house since it was two short blocks away. 

you arrived shortly, ringing the doorbell as you waited for a couple of seconds. the wooden door opened, revealing your best friend who was in a very cheezy apron. 

“y/n! i just finished setting the table, come in.” he scooted to the side, giving you space to get inside. there was a particular smell in the sano residence that made you feel at home, the scent of comfort and memories. 

not a single thing has changed about how his house looks like, it’s exactly the way it looked like five years ago on the night where you last had dinner with them. 

“i brought tirimisu, my mom made it.” you informed him as you walked into the kitchen, nearly bumping into his back. 

“really? damn, how did she know that i’ve been craving for her tirimisu recently.” shin chuckled, taking the foil pan from your hands to put it in the fridge. 

“where’s mikey and emma?” you looked around, eyes scanning the living room but the both of them are nowhere to be found. 

“emma’s at hina’s house and mikey is at one of his toman meetings. but, i called them both a few minutes ago, they’re on their way.” he answered while reaching his hands back to untie the knot of the apron. you saw his eyebrow furrow as he ‘tsked’ in annoyance, he accidentally pulled the wrong string and tightened the knot. you saw him struggling, going behind him to offer your help. 

“here, let me help.” your hands brushed against his, a small electrical current running between the brief touch, as you soft fingers began to untie the knot. 

for absolute no reason at all, this strong urge to hug the man in front of you overwhelmed you. you couldn’t register nor process why.

was it because he smelled like home? how his touches bandaged all the wounds littered on your body? his voice like some kind of drug to calm down your nerves? 

without thinking twice, you closed the distance between both of your bodies. you wrapped your arms tightly against his waist, snuggling against the muscular clothed surface of your back as you breathed him in. 

shinichiro froze on the spot, not knowing how to react at all. it’s been five years, and it felt like time was going a little too slow for him. all those days where he stayed awake late at night, thinking about how you were doing and why you didn’t talk to him in any form of communication. 

for the longest, he thought that maybe you forgot about him. shinichiro wasn’t a hard man to read, in fact, he was like an open-book to be honest. there’s no way that you could miss the flirty comments, or how his cheeks and the tips of his ears would go red when he got flustered, how he dressed extra nice when you both would go out to eat after school and even much smaller actions. 

making sure to have you walk on the sidewalk where you weren’t near the road, holding your hand while crossing and looking both ways for you when you were too busy reading the upcoming play’s script, making sure to remind you to eat and drink water, and just to breathe and relax. 

you were just a little too slow to realize. 

shinichiro remembered breaking his own heart with the mere thought of you getting into a relationship with another man. of course, he would support you and cheer you on no matter what. but, it would be hard to always give you a bittersweet smile and pretend that everything was okay. 

he saw the way you helped him raise his siblings, envisioning a life where the two of you would date, get married and start a family. whenever he had a bad day, dreaming about that would instantly make him smile. 

he only wished that it was reality. 

“i’ll never leave you again shin, i’m so sorry for not calling or texting. when i came back to japan and saw you for the first time in five years, i felt like a piece of me was finally restored. god, i can’t explain to you how much i missed you and how much i yearned for you. you’re home for me, shin.” your voice came out a muffles as your embrace tightened a little with each word, not wanting to ever let go of him. 

“i’m so happy you didn’t forget me, y/n. i was so scared to lose you, holding onto the little bits of hope left inside my heart and mind that one day you’d come back and surprise me in my shop. but back then, it was only a scenario that i would think of before going to sleep.” shinichiro turned around, stroking your hair before leaning down to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. 

the little moment you both share would soon be interrupted as a series of doorbells rang. 

“it’s them! you could hide in my room, y/n. go, go, go!” he exclaimed, pushing you towards the stairs in a hurry. he waited for your footsteps to reach all the way to the top, hearing the sound of his door closing before heading to open the door. 

“what took you so long, shin? i thought i was gonna die from hunger.” mikey complained the second his older brother opened the door, quickly entering the house as he kicked his shoes off. 

“this little brat made me wait ten minutes in front of that hina girl’s house because of some silly fashion show they were having in her room.” grandpa sano mumbled under his breath as he followed in after mikey. 

“any complaints from you, emma?” shinichiro chuckled, but the blonde simply shook her head. 

“i’m not overdramatical like them, i had a pretty good day. what about you, shin?” she asked as she was the last one to come inside, shinichiro locking the door behind as emma sat on the couch to open her shoes. 

“that’s good to hear. my day was pretty okay, a little busy at the shop.” he smiled, bending down to help unbuckle her heels. 

in the span of just a few minutes, all three of the sanos that just arrived home freshened up and were ready to dine in together to the freshly home-cooked meal prepared by the elder sano sibling. 

you crept up behind a wall, seeing all of them slowly being seated, mikey being the one faced away from you. 

“if only y/n was here then you wouldn’t have been so lonely all the time, big bro. she needs to come back soon, i still miss her. she probably forgot about us.” mikey sadly said, lowering his gaze towards his food as he suddenly felt a loss of his appetite when he glanced at the empty space between him and shinichiro where you would sit during meals. 

your heart shattered to pieces when hearing his words, no longer being able to hide away. you tip-toed towards him, your presence catching emma and grandpa sano’s attention as they both looked at you with wide eyes. 

emma was nearly ready to scream but you quickly place a finger on your lips to signal her to not make a sound. 

“what’s the matter? you seem like you saw a ghost, emma.” mikey laughed. 

you covered his eyes, the pair of chopsticks in his hands dropping as he tried to take your hands off of his face. 

“the hell?! emma, is this one of your stupid friends from school again?? listen here, i’m not hanging out with you after school alright!” the blonde said through gritted teeth, making you bite back a laugh. 

you slowly release you hand as you craned down you face to meet his eyes. 

“not even me, ‘jiro?” you said and he stared at you blankly. 

“i think i’m going nuts.” mikey stammered out. you gave him a warm smile before pulling him into your chest. 

it took him a minute to finally realize that it was really you. 

“y/n? OH MY GOD, Y/N!!” he screamed on the top of his lungs, nearly popping your ear drums before pulling you into a hug that made it difficult to breathe. 

“you grew up so much, little sano. oh my, look at your hair!!” you squealed while ruffling the long blonde locks, the boy in your arms sobbing as he refused to let you go. 

“i missed you so much, y/n. you big fat jerk, how dare you not call us!! i waited every birthday for you to wish me, trying to predict a lucky day that would come where you would return.” mikey hiccuped as you rubbed your hand on his back, trying to soothe him as you apologized.

shinichiro looked at you lovingly, his eyes sparkling at how tenderly you treated his siblings. the way you gently caressed mikey’s hair while patting emma’s back as she sobbed into you chest. 

you were perfect. 

you’ll always be his stargirl, shining brightly even through his darkest times. 

he never realized how madly in love he was with you, not until you were thousands of miles away. shinichiro still sometimes felt that feeling of his heart sinking at the thought of you never coming back. 

but you did and he never wanted to let you go again. 

[lunaevangeline]

Hydrangea

Happy birthday Oikawa Tooru my beloved ♡ Here's a tiny birthday present from me: a childhood friends to lovers trope with him.

If someone asks you what your favorite thing in the summer transition is, it would be hydrangeas; leaving you in awe before summer heat strikes.

The memory is still so vivid in your mind. You and your best friend were catching each other, stomping on the puddle, splashing the water unto the blue-purplish color flower crowns. Both of you were laughing carelessly during your last summer as high school students. As if he won’t go to the other side of the world next year, as if he will stay here forever.

Oikawa realized you were no longer a little girl he used to know as he successfully caught you. Circled his arms around your waist, a winning grin plastered on his face. He pulled you closer, hugging your figure from behind. His lips almost stumbled upon your ear leaf. Your heart was pounding a bit faster when you felt his warm breath against your skin.

He was enticed at the moment, gazing at your frame softly and whispering a phrase that can dangerously change the state of your friendship. Fortunately (or unfortunately) it was muffled by the heavy rain that suddenly fell to the ground. He loosened his embrace and took your palm instead to run with you, heading to your house nearby.

The poor summer uniform with a simple pale blue shirt and a maroon bow was totally drenched, only to enter the washing machine as soon as you came home. Of course, the moment the washing machine started you could hear the noise not only from the motor but also from your mother's mouth. A one-hour lecture, yours truly from your beloved mother, while your best friend was sitting peacefully in the corner of the room. He looked really comfortable, already all warm because your mom lent him a set of your brother's clothes, holding a mug of hot chocolate and sipping it religiously. You can feel he occasionally glanced at you, to which you automatically replied with a glare.

You were cursing in your heart, protesting why Tooru didn’t get the same treatment. An argument from your mother would be because you’re the one who’s her only precious daughter. But you know your mom, or even your entire family members, love him a little too much. He’s really good at captivating one's heart, you guessed. He smiled sheepishly at your mother, confessing that it was his idea to drag you in the middle of the rain and just that your mom finally stopped her lecture.

You dragged him to your room, doing the same ritual as you both usually do; playing video games, snacking, then talking and lying on your bed while staring aimlessly at the ceiling. You were oddly quieter than usual and he wondered if you were still mad. So he tried to make amends by saying 'sorry' and promising to treat you.

You rolled over, propped your head and turned your gaze to him, "You only feel sorry for today?"

He let out a soft chuckle and grinned, “Okay, I made so many mistakes to you and I really am sorry.”

You moved your body nonchalantly, sitting on his abdomen and pointing at his chest. “Yes, you must feel sorry, for so many things,” you gestured your hands exaggeratedly.

You started counting on your fingers, “For taking too much of my ice cream portion.”

“For breaking my favorite console.”

“For not coming to my birthday because of the tournament.”

“-and for leaving me really soon.”

The tone is moving so quickly from being dictatorial to melancholic. He reached for your cheek and cupped it with one calloused hand, caressing softly.

“I don’t want to leave you.”

You stared at his doleful eyes, you can't argue because you already knew the answer.

He pulled your head into the crook of his neck and positioned you to cuddle, you gave in easily. Engulfing his clean scent, your lips almost met the skin on his neck and your embarrassed soul preferred to hide more in his chest. He held you tight, you felt so comfortable and that was the last thing you remember before you fell asleep that day.

They said the heart knows what it wants.

Today you wake up and found that the hydrangea flowers blooming on the sidewalks smell just like him, serene and content. A beautiful cold metal circling both of your ring fingers, you smiled in realization.

“Are you already awake, beautiful?” You find the man in front of you propping his head, a duvet covering half of his naked torso. He watches you with adoration.

Your smile grows even wider, “Good morning, mi amor.” You reach for his locks and pull him in for a kiss.

“What were you dreaming about?” he asks curiously.

You giggle, giving a peck on the tip of his nose, it flushes a bit.

"It’s a secret.”

He is your hydrangea and you are the rain drops who give him the first kiss on every morning drizzles.

masterlist

taglist: @hyeque @passionateuchiha @crystal-lilac @ohtobiors @pklm10 @aizumie @miya-dynasty @satisfactooru @wolffmaiden @wayyen @justheretoaskandread @simp4ren @filledasaf @momochimo @simpforerenn @sweetkoshi @suckerforsugawara @tjjjrsj @i4tsumu @snowcoveredkiss

[xiaojunsmintchoco]

Puppy love - osaki shotaro

sooo...i'm finally done with this piece for @tenderfrailty's nuevo comienzo collab! i'm so thankful to every other writer who helped me while i had writer's block to get ideas rolling. thank you to all my followers for supporting my writing on tumblr, i'm so grateful! also, big thank you to @mintkims for helping me make the banner! appreciate it so much!! i hope you'll enjoy this fic, it's quite long (sorry about that). do leave comments if you can! i would really appreciate the feedback!

pairing: osaki shotaro x reader

genres: fluff, romance, slowburn ; childhood friends to lovers, highschool au, animal shelter au

synopsis: as the school year drags on, you find yourself developing new feelings for your childhood best friend, Shotaro. Meanwhile, he goes through a breakup, and while recovering from the fresh heartbreak, he's trying to decide if he should start a new chapter of his life by finding someone new or staying single. while you're both figuring out the confusing feelings in your hearts, school responsibilities pile up. However, the both of you realise your feelings for each other through persevering through school together, volunteering at the animal shelter, a kinda annoying bunch of friends, and two very special dogs.

Word count: 17.6k (this was supposed to be 16k at most…bye)

Warnings: descriptions of toxic relationships, anxiety attacks, mentions of food, kinda mention of a gun?

a/n: this fic starts in about July 2021, and progresses chronologically until January 1st, 2022. (it’s long overdue…sorry about that y’all.)

»»————-----------------------　♡　-----------------------————-««

"Jeez, i'm already sick of school," you whine, dragging your feet that feel heavy as lead behind Shotaro as the both of you walk to the multi-purpose hall, where the weekly student council meeting would be held. "It's only been half a year, but there's so much to do. Student council, band, schoolwork, tuition...the list goes on!" You finish with a sigh of resignation as you walk into the room.

Shotaro chuckles softly after hearing your complaints, but you can tell he's exhausted too, from the dark circles around his eyes, resembling a panda. He has about the same hectic schedules as you, after all. "So am I," he admits while pulling out chairs for both of you. "But we've got each other to go through this together, and that makes it easier," he adds, his characteristic eye smile gracing his features.

You look up at your best friend, and seeing his smile is enough to boost your mood. "Yeah," you say, sitting down and waiting for the meeting to start. "That's not so bad". He then flashes you a wider grin as he turns back to the front.

There was one thing you'd always envied about Shotaro: even if he's not feeling good, he always finds a reason to smile. You'd been best friends with him since childhood, but his personality has never changed; shy and bashful, but optimistic and compassionate to everyone. You liked that about him, it was what made him so precious. Even now, as you're thinking about it, you feel a flutter arise in your heart.

Wait what? What is this feeling? You think to yourself. You tried your best to push the feelings aside as you knew that you guys were just friends. Besides, he already had a girlfriend. It shouldn't be a surprise, with a personality as lovable as his, any girl would fall for him.

Kim Miyoung. Pretty, smart and popular, she was the one every boy in school pined for. Some would follow her around with heart eyes (disgusting, I know). Others dropped small gifts and notes in her locker, hoping to win her heart. Yet, in the end, she fell head over heels for your closest friend, out of every other boy she could have chosen. You remembered when Shotaro first brought you to meet her, he'd introduced you to her as "my best friend". To many people, this was a bombshell as they'd always thought that you and Shotaro would date, if you guys weren't already dating. Yes, that's how close you both were.

As you remember that, a fresh pang of jealousy and sadness comes out of nowhere and stings at your heart, causing you to let out a sigh involuntarily. He's just my friend, so why am I jealous?

You feel someone poking your shoulder. "Y/n? you alright?" Shotaro's soft whisper sounds next to you. Turning, you see him looking at you, worry apparent in his eyes. "I don't think you've sighed this much in one morning before".

You snap out of your daze and put on another smile. "Yeah, I'm fine...just more tired than usual," you half-fib. It was kind of true, after all.

Shotaro nods understandingly, pulls out two sweets from his pocket, and passes one to you. It was the exact brand and flavour that you liked. He always kept some in his pocket specially for you, in case you were in need of a mood boost. That was just one of many habits he had that you found endearing. "Eat this before Mrs Jeong comes in," he mouths as he unwraps his sweet and pops it in his mouth. You do likewise and stuff the wrapper in your pocket just as Mrs Jeong walks in. The councillors stand up, bow, and greet her. She gives us a brief nod in return.

The council president, Taeyong, steps up, along with the council vice-presidents, Kun and Doyoung. "The meeting will please come to order," he declares, and Kun begins to take everyone's attendance. Just like that, another boring council meeting has started.

»»————------------------------　♡　-----------------------————-««

"Hey, congrats Taro!" You heartily congratulate Shotaro after the meeting ends, referring to him by the nickname you'd given him since you were kids. The new members of the student council executive committee had been announced at the meeting, and Shotaro was one of them, which meant he would be running for the position of council president along with four other people.

He beams back at you, returning the high-five. "Thanks," he says. "I'll do my best to serve in whatever role I'm given. I wish you were chosen too though".

You dismiss him with a wave of your hand. "Heck, I'm grateful that I wasn't selected! No extra responsibilities for me," you reason with him.

"Good point," Shotaro muses with a small laugh as you both stroll into the classroom. "Less responsibility, more time for other things".

You take your seats at the assigned desks. "My place or yours later?" you ask as you get your stationery out. Every day after school, you would go to each other's house to study and do homework, and just hang out and chill when you were done. It had been a custom for the both of you since elementary school, unless one of you had after school activities. On weekends, the others from your friend group would join. Sometimes, you'd even have sleepovers with them, which always resulted in lots of laughs together.

"Mine's open," Shotaro replies as you continue digging for your worksheets in your file. As soon as you find your homework, Mr Moon arrives, and greets the class before beginning lessons.

"Before I start, I want to announce this to the class," Mr Moon said, flashing a notice onto the projector. "The school has started a new initiative to give students the opportunity to lend a helping hand to others. In two weeks' time, everyone will have to begin doing volunteer service".

Audible groans fill the classroom. "I understand that you all already have a lot on your plates, but try to take this seriously, okay?" Mr Moon continues, attempting to empathise with the class. "Take this as an opportunity to practice compassion. Also, the more volunteer hours you serve, the more points you'll have when the hours get converted to points. The points will show up on your portfolio, and they will come in useful when you apply to other schools in the future, or when applying for a job. I encourage you all to find a few friends to volunteer with for causes you're passionate about, that will make it more enjoyable. Remember, a few hours of volunteer work on your part could mean so much to the beneficiaries," Mr Moon concludes. "Okay, now that's out of the way, let's get to the lesson. Today we will learn about..." however, you're barely paying attention. Instead, your mind is wandering, thinking of places to volunteer at. That is, until Shotaro kindly brings you back to the real world, forcing you to focus.

»»————-----------------------　♡　-----------------------————-««

"Do you want to volunteer together?" you ask Shotaro as you're waiting for your orders to be finished. You're both at Starbucks after school, ordering coffee to fuel your study session later. Year-end exams are happening in a few months, and you both cannot afford to fall asleep while studying.

"Of course! Miyoung will be volunteering with her friends anyway". He answers. At that moment, the barista calls your names, and you go to collect your orders. Meanwhile, for some reason, you're secretly celebrating that Miyoung won't be volunteering with him.

Shuffling out of Starbucks, Shotaro sips his coffee thoughtfully. "Is there any particular cause you have in mind?" he asks.

Tilting your head to the side, you give it some thought. "Not really," you admit. "I'd be happy to volunteer anywhere".

Shotaro falls silent for a while, and you swear you can hear the gears in his brain beginning to turn. Suddenly, his eyes light up. "I know! What about the animal shelter?" he proposes, turning to you, eyes wide with excitement. He knew that you both liked animals, and that animal welfare was something you're both passionate about. After all, he'd adopted a dog from the shelter before, and you'd rescued a cat from the streets before.

"Sure, let's go!"

The both of you skip to the shelter together like children, ignoring the stares from strangers. You'd done so many crazy things together throughout your friendship, this was nothing new.

When you reach the animal shelter, Shotaro pushes you in front. Knowing this is your cue to step up, you walk up to the counter. Realising that no one is there, you ring the bell. "Coming!" a male voice answers, and seconds later a boy with the thickest eyebrows you've seen rushes out. "Hi, how can I help?" he enquires with a friendly smile, and your eyes land on his nametag: Xiao Dejun.

"Hello, we would like to volunteer at this shelter," you say as politely as you can, gesturing to Shotaro.

"We'll be able to do so weekly, every Saturday morning". Shotaro finishes for you.

"Oh! That's fantastic, we really do need more volunteers," Dejun replies, clearly thrilled at the prospect of having new members onboard the team. "How old are you guys?" he questions further.

"We're 17," you respond.

"Okay that's great! You're old enough to volunteer," Dejun confirms with you as he gets out two application forms and a pen, and hands them to us. "You just have to fill this up, and you're good to go!"

As soon as you're both done scribbling your details on the form, you pass them back to Dejun, who briefly scans them and nods approvingly. "Great! I'll just have to get this approved by the shelter owner, and if all goes well, you guys can start this Saturday!"

Thanking Dejun, you both leave the shelter and proceed to Shotaro's house. "This Saturday! I can't wait," you squeal excitedly, thinking of all the adorable animals you'd get to work with.

"I know right! It's gonna be such fun!" Shotaro responds with equal enthusiasm, looking forward to the experience as well.

The two of you continue to banter on the way to his house. Upon arrival, you greet his mum and siblings and make your way upstairs to his room.

"Do you both want lunch?" His mum knocks the door, enters, and asks the both of you. You'd been coming over so often, his family was used to it already. His mum would even cook lunch for you whenever you came.

"Yes, please," Shotaro answers. "For both of us". She nods and leaves as Shotaro tells her "thanks".

"What are you gonna start on first?" You ask him, taking out your stationery and books.

"I'll start with Mathematics first. Get the hardest subject over and done with," he makes up his mind after a few seconds of thinking.

"Okay, I'll do that too then. We can help each other out," you add as he nods.

A few hours pass, and you look up to see Shotaro on his phone, typing busily on his phone, a small smile on his face. "Is it Miyoung?" You ask, and he nods, still typing. Usually, when you asked him questions about his girlfriend you would genuinely smile together with him, satisfied that he is happy with the girl he is with now. But today, your smile felt slightly manufactured, and mixed with the feelings of joy was a hint of sourness.

"Yep, it is," he replies, fingers still furiously working their way across the screen. "She's asked me on a date tomorrow," he explains.

"That's nice," you respond as the sour feeling seeps through your heart, further contaminating the joy that it now holds. "Where are you guys going?"

"We'll be at the park near school, having a picnic". He answers your question, then puts down his phone, with the same smile on his face. "I can't wait. It's been a while since we've been on a date together, so I'm glad we finally get to have one again".

"Didn't you ask her out many times previously?" you raise an eyebrow, finding it suspicious. She'd never rejected his invitations to go on dates, and if she had something on she'd always do her best to get it rescheduled, whether by hook or by crook.

"She said she was busy. I didn't want to bother her, so I told her to contact me when she's free," he says.

"I see," you hum, wanting to dismiss it as just that. Yet, for some reason, you can't seem to silence the alarm bells going off in your head. Shaking your head to try to ignore them, you look down at your assignment again, trying to get back to work.

However, you didn't realise that his smile was just the slightest bit forced as well, with a tinge of uneasiness in it.

»»————-----------------------　♡　-----------------------————-««

Saturday finally arrives, and it's time for you and Shotaro's first day of volunteer work, following Dejun's message to you both saying that your applications had been accepted. You'd agreed to meet Shotaro at his house at 7: 45 AM and head to the shelter together. Bounding up the steps, you press the doorbell and wait for him to open the door. "Coming!" Sure enough, you hear his voice from inside the house, and the thumping of footsteps. Following a "bye" to his parents and siblings, he opens up the door and greets you with his usual cheery tone, and you both are ready to set off.

There's a spring in both of your steps, instead of the usual tired dragging of feet. "I hope we'll get to play with them!" Shotaro gushes excitedly.

"I hope we'll get to walk the dogs!" you chime in, your own exhilaration taking over you as you continue down the path faster.

Upon arrival, Dejun is already waiting for the both of you at the counter. "Hi! Shotaro and y/n, correct?" You both nod eagerly. "Nice! I'm Xiao Dejun, but you can call me Xiaojun". He introduces himself. "I'll give you a tour of the shelter, brief you on your responsibilities for today, and you'll be good to go. Before that, do change into this". He tosses two volunteer T-shirts to both of you, and directs you to the washrooms to change.

When you both are done, Xiaojun gives you your volunteer badges before leading you both on a tour of the shelter. After that, he gives instructions on your different duties, such as how much food to give, how to clean the animals' living areas and how to properly handle the animals. "I think our first duty is to walk dogs together," he informs you both. "Let's get the leashes, and then we can go!"

With that, you all locate the storeroom and get the leashes, and then make your way over to the "Dog Dorm" to get the dogs. You successfully clip the leashes to every dog's collar, except for one, a shy Maltese, whose dog tag reads "Cloud". "Cloud, hey, over here". You try to coax the dog over again, but it walks forward a few steps, and then shies away again, whining.

A bark rings through the enclosed space. Turning, you see that a Samoyed puppy Shotaro is holding is gazing at Cloud with its boba eyes, tongue hanging out of its mouth. It barks again, as if beckoning her over. The Maltese trots to the Samoyed and nuzzles against him. "Hey Cloud, come here," Xiaojun calls softly. You turn around, and see him gesturing to the dog, treats in hand. She slowly goes over to him and eats the treats gently. "She's quite shy. She needs time to get used to strangers," Xiaojun explains. "She was like this with me at first too. But you should be able to bond with her after some time, pets and lots of treats. She's actually really sweet," a fond smile makes its way onto his face as he ruffles her fur affectionately. "Let's go!"

Xiaojun strikes up a conversation with both of you, and you all get to know each other better. You find out that he's in his final year at high school, wants to study veterinary medicine after graduation, and that his mum owns the shelter, and has a degree in veterinary medicine. Meanwhile, he found out that you wanted to study (insert course), while Shotaro wished to study to become a dance teacher, and he encouraged you both to work towards your dreams as well.

You get back to the shelter after the 1-hour walk, and get the dogs back into their enclosures. "Will you both be able to handle the dogs' baths yourselves?" he asks, ensuring that you both would be okay with the next task. "I'd stay and help, but another volunteer needs assistance with an injured rabbit".

"We'll be fine," Shotaro replies, and gives a thumbs-up sign. "We should be able to handle this".

"Okay, if you need anything, just text or call me, okay?" Xiaojun instructs, and then rushes off in the direction of the Rabbit Run.

Heading into the storeroom, you both get out a tub, the dog shampoos and volunteer smocks (because you both know most dogs shake the water out of their fur like there's no tomorrow after a bath and you'd rather not be drenched), and bring the stuff out into the backyard, then connect the hose to a tap nearby. You both work like a factory line, with Shotaro shampooing the dogs' fur while you dry them off, you get the dogs clean faster than you expected. All except Cloud.

"What do we do?" you sigh exasperatedly, looking to Shotaro for help since he's more experienced with dogs. "I can't coax her over".

Shotaro brings out a few treats, and slowly approaches her the way Xiaojun did. "Hey," he softly calls, stopping a few feet away from her and holding out the treats. She cautiously trots to him, sniffs at the treats in his hand, and gently nibbles at them. He lets her sniff him a bit more before petting her. "Good girl," he whispers to her.

You gawk at him. "Are you some dog whisperer or something?" you ask incredulously, blown away by his ability to get Cloud to approach him. "Because I swear, I don't know what magic you use to get Cloud to come to you so easily". You'd tried tempting her with treats earlier, but that failed.

"I'm just better with dogs than you," he jokingly brags as he settles Cloud into the bathtub and begins to shampoo her fur gently.

"Tsk, showoff," you scoff.

His only response is to laugh, which you've grown to find music to your ears as you find it adorable. He's so cute when he laughs, a thought enters your head, slowly causing a smile to spread across your face.

Focus on the dog! A voice in your head chides you as Shotaro hands Cloud to you. You look down and pretend to busy yourself with drying her off, hoping that he doesn't pick up on your flustered state. But you don't realise that he quickly busies himself with packing up the cleaning supplies to avoid you seeing his pink-tinted cheeks.

"These might be useful". He taps your shoulder, takes some dog treats out of his pocket and hands them to you. Sure enough, they come in handy as you distract her with the treats while towel drying her fur. You're actually glad that she's more docile and tame than the other dogs, or else you would be having a very hard time right now. And although you didn't mention it, you were really glad that you had Shotaro to help you - maybe more than just glad.

Finishing the cleanup, you check your phones, referring to Xiaojun's message to see what else is left for both of you. Your next task is to refill all the animals' food bowls and water bottles. Simple yet time consuming, considering the number of animals that were living in the shelter.

"Xiaojun's in the training area," Shotaro tells you as soon you're finished feeding the animals. "He says we can head over and observe the training sessions".

Both of you sprint to the training area, where Xiaojun is giving commands to the Samoyed Shotaro was walking earlier. "He looks like Jeno," Shotaro points out, making you laugh as you begin to see the uncanny resemblance between the dog and your mutual friend. You snap a picture of the dog, reminding yourself to send it to the group chat and tease Jeno later.

"Very good!" Xiaojun compliments the puppy, giving it a treat and scratching it behind the ears. The pup gives a happy bark, panting excitedly with his tongue hanging out of his mouth, and the sight is enough to make everyone's hearts melt. Xiaojun then looks up, beckoning you both over. He hands Shotaro a clicker, and gives you a bag of dog treats. "This is Jake. He's a five month old Samoyed," Xiaojun explains. "You can try giving him a few simple commands, like 'sit', 'stay'...you know, the usual. If he does the tricks correctly, you press on the clicker and then give him a treat. If not, repeat the command and see if he does it right," he instructs. "Give it a try! Jake's very friendly," he grins.

"You can go first," Shotaro passes you the clicker.

"No, you go first," you say and push the clicker back into his hand. "I'd like to see you demonstrate first before I try," you reason. "Who was bragging about being better with dogs earlier?" You take the chance to tease him, and he groans.

"Alright, alright," Shotaro concedes and takes the clicker. "N-no need to remind me".

Was that a light blush you saw on his cheeks?

And was that a stutter?

You dismiss the fleeting thought, watching as he proceeds to give Jake all sorts of simple commands, which he has no problem following. "Your turn," he says, passing you the clicker and treats.

You take the items from Shotaro and get ready to train the pup. "Jake, sit". Jake immediately gets into a sitting position. "Roll over". He drops to the floor and rolls over. As you give him more commands, he obediently follows them all, and you realise how well-trained the Samoyed puppy is. "Good boy!" you compliment Jake wholeheartedly, patting him on the head.

Xiaojun smiles at the sight. As you're about to go through another round of commands with Jake, a whine sounds from not far away. Turning, you see Cloud run over to Jake, who barks excitedly upon seeing Cloud. She nuzzles up next to him as he sniffs her all over. "Oh yes, I'll have to train Cloud; she needs more specialised training so I'll have to spend more time with her. Have fun training Jake!" he waves and gestures to Cloud to come with him. "Remember to check out when you leave". You say goodbye to Xiaojun and continue playing with Jake, until it's time for both of you to leave.

On the way home, you both continue making small talk with each other until you're at Shotaro's doorstep. "Wanna come over later?" he asks you. "Miyoung cancelled our date plans. I can ask the other guys to come as well".

You frown. "This is like the millionth time she's cancelled a date with you. What's up?" you question, feeling like something was up.

Shotaro shrugs in response. "She said she's busy again".

"What's she so busy with?" you press for answers.

"I'm not sure," Shotaro replies. "But I don't blame her, we're all getting busier anyway," he adds, and you know that he's got a valid point.

"Alright then. I'll go home, freshen up, and then come over," you say.

"Okay! See you guys later," Shotaro waves to you with a bright smile, opening his door and stepping in.

He's so cute and pure, you think to yourself. Miyoung better be treating him right. At the same time, a dull ache in your heart makes itself known, and you can't seem to shake it off.

»»————-----------------------　♡　-----------------------————-««

"So, we'll all be part of the band committee together!" Donghyuck exclaims excitedly, putting his drumsticks into his bag and hurrying out of the band room with you and Renjun as soon as you've all finished tidying up the band room. "I can't wait to start!"

Both of you laugh at Donghyuck's enthusiasm. "Me too," Renjun admits, packing his euphonium into its case. "I think we'll make a great team!"

"We do have really good chemistry, after all," you chuckle in agreement with them, slinging the flute case around your shoulder. You were merely feigning excitement; in reality you wished that you did not have to take on this role. So much for not having extra responsibilities! At least you were given the least stressful role, the Band Major Admin (BMA). Poor Renjun got the most stressful role, Band Major Music (BMM). He would have to know music better than all his bandmates and serve as the main communication channel between the band and the conductors. Donghyuck would be Drum Major (DM), in charge of the band's welfare and discipline (to be honest, neither you nor Renjun can visualise him keeping the band under control).

"That's why our ensemble performances together are always outstanding!" Donghyuck adds. "We're the best team! With us leading, NCIT Band will never fail!"

You and Renjun continue to laugh at the pumped-up Donghyuck. Once out of school, all of you turn on your phones. Renjun and Donghyuck immediately begin celebrating in the groupchat you have with Jaemin, Jeno, Yangyang and Shotaro. In order for them to not be suspicious of you, you leave a few celebratory messages of your own in the group chat as well. Sighing, you exit the group chat and private message Shotaro.

You: shotaro

You: i really don't want this role 〒_〒

Shotaro: why though? it's a good thing!

You: i didn't want extra responsibilities and stress remember

You: now here I am with this stupid role

You: at least renjun and donghyuck can suffer with me

Shotaro: hahaha yeah, i saw you guys celebrating in the group chat

Shotaro: you celebrated too cuz you didn't want them to suspect that you were stressed over the role amirite

You: omg you know me too well

Shotaro: ofc i've known you since we were literal babies pls

Shotaro: but anyway always remember that you've got ppl to fall back on in times when you're troubled or stressed

Shotaro: myself included ^-^

Shotaro: and since renjun and donghyuck are leading with you, i'm sure they'll be willing to support you too!

Shotaro: and i'll do my best to help you out too <3

You: thanks bro <3

You look at the text conversation, smiling to yourself. Why is he so cute? You begin screaming mentally as your heart rate increases to about 160 beats per minute.

"Hey! Earth to y/n!" Haechan waves his hand in front of your face as you're jerked back to reality.

"What?" you snap. "Oops, sorry, I didn't mean to snap," you quickly put your hands over your mouth and apologize. "I was startled".

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. "You and Shotaro must have been flirting with each other again," he clucks disapprovingly and shakes his head. "Anyway, wanna get bubble tea with us? We're heading to the shop nearby".

"I was NOT flirting with him! He has a girlfriend," you raise your voice defensively at Donghyuck. "I was just texting him. We're just friends. And yes, let's go".

We're just friends, the words echo in your mind painfully, as if mocking you and reminding you that that was all that you and Shotaro would be.

»»————-----------------------　♡　-----------------------————-««

Back at the shelter, you and Shotaro have finished with your duties, and you're sitting in the yard, playing with the dogs again. You'd met many animals, all lovable in their own ways, but two particular dogs found themselves a special place in you and Shotaro's hearts: Jake and Cloud. Not only were their individual personalities adorable, their friendship together was something you found precious as well.

You're watching them play in the backyard after volunteer duties are over, as Jake tackles Cloud to the ground. Cloud growls back playfully, trying to get back up and fight back against Jake. The sight reminds you of how you and Shotaro would play fight (with boundaries of course) at times, putting a smile on your face.

"You know, Jake reminds me a lot of you". Shotaro states out of the blue.

"And why would that be?" you query, genuinely curious as to why Shotaro thought that way.

"You're both naturally very outgoing, and enjoy the company of people," he says as both dogs come over to you both, with Jake gravitating towards Shotaro and Cloud to you. "Not only that, you're both very sweet," he finishes, lovingly patting Jake on the head and giving him a treat.

"Really? You know, Cloud reminds me of you too," you say softly, reaching out to pat the dog in question.

"Eh? Why?" His dark brown eyes widen in surprise, and you giggle at his astonished expression.

"Remember how shy Cloud was?" you ask as he bobs his head up and down earnestly. "You were the same," you remind him, referring to the memory of your first meeting. You recall when you and your mum went to greet the new neighbours. There little Shotaro was, clinging on to his mother's leg, peering at you as his inquisitive eyes shone, reflecting curiosity and nervousness.

"Oh yeah, I remember when I first met you when my family first moved in. I was hiding behind my mother because I was so scared to come and meet you," he finishes for you, chortling at the memory. "You had to come take my hand and invite me to play with you".

"Isn't that similar to Cloud? She was super shy, and she needed Jake to bring her out of her shell," you point out.

Shotaro's mouth forms an "o" as he realises what you mean. "Like how you had to bring me out of mine," he adds.

"But," you continue. "She's really sweet once you get to know her. Cloud ignored me initially. It's like how when I first talked to you, you barely even gave me a reply!" you recall more memories of that day as Shotaro's face flushes red at the memory of how he'd unintentionally ignored you. "I have to admit, I thought you were rude at first. But you turned out to be one of the sweetest people I've ever met," you say to him honestly, stopping to tease him about how the tips of his ears had turned a shade of red at the compliment, which only serves to make him more flustered. Since young, he'd always get embarrassed when he received compliments, and you found it adorable. "When Cloud finally opened up, I found her absolutely lovable. She's just like you, shy but sweet". You turn to Cloud and pat her as she whines, then pick her up and place her on your lap.

He smiles wider, pearly whites coming into view as you continue. "Dare I say, we've become as close as Jake and Cloud".

"We really have," he agrees as Jake climbs onto his lap, tongue hanging out of his mouth. He then touches his nose against Cloud's, and the both of you can't stop the "awws" that come out of your mouths at the heart-melting sight. "It's been so long since we've known each other".

"Yeah it's been like, twelve years?" you splutter with uncertainty, trying to recall when you'd first met him. "We've been friends for so long".

"Yeah, best friends," he adds, smiling softly. "I'm so grateful to have you as my friend".

"Me too," you manage to stutter out. You know you should be happy and satisfied with the fact that you had managed to build up and maintain such a precious friendship for twelve long years, yet your heart yearns for more. To bring your relationship to the next level and let it grow into something more. To be more than just his best friend. However, you know that another girl has his heart now. Even if that wasn't the case, would you even have the courage to tell him how you felt? To get all this off your chest?

You let out an inaudible sigh, knowing that the answer was no. You weren't his, neither was he yours.

»»————-----------------------　♡　-----------------------————-««

It's been a while since you'd been volunteering at the shelter together with Shotaro. Throughout the course of the volunteer programme, you've both grown a lot closer, and you found yourself catching butterflies more and more around him. However, you don't know what to make of it.

Gosh, why do feelings have to be so confusing? That's the only thought resonating in your mind as you're playing with a beagle in the backyard of the shelter. "Fetch, Bella!" You command, throwing a red ball to the other end of the yard. Bella yelps, jumps up and runs off in search of the ball, before returning it to you. "Good girl!"

Further off, Shotaro is playing with Jake and Cloud, who are playing tug-of-war with a chew toy, while Shotaro seems to be very immersed in watching the mini competition. His pearly whites are in clear view as he laughs, while his eyes, which are riveted on the dogs, are slightly squinted into the eye smile you'd grown to find so familiar and lovable. The sunlight bounced off his hazel brown irises, turning them into pools of honey. Cute, you think to yourself, a smile growing onto your face.

Bella's whining snaps you out of your daze. "Oh sorry!" you exclaim, knowing what she wants. Picking up the red ball, you hurl it to the other end of the yard again, and off Bella goes again, in pursuit of her ball.

"That's the dog Yangyang wants," Shotaro's voice sounds next to you. Turning around, you see him approaching you, both dogs by his side.

"Oh, so this is the dog he kept talking about during lunch yesterday," it dawns on you. Yangyang had been gushing about a dog he was looking to adopt yesterday at lunch, talking about how cute it was and how his parents loved it too. He'd agreed to let all of you play with her from time to time.

"Speak of the devil," you say as you both swivel your head towards Yangyang, who is being led over to the backyard by Xiaojun.

"Hi!" you both heartily greet your close friend with a high-five and fist bump.

"You guys know my cousin?" Xiaojun asks, watching the interaction between the three of you take place in front of him.

"Wait, you're his cousin?" Shotaro asks, surprise taking over his features.

"Didn't I tell you I have a cousin who volunteers at the animal shelter?" Yangyang reminds both of you. "I was referring to him".

"It's a small world," you say, still letting the information sink in.

"Yangyang's in our friend group at school. We're all close friends," Shotaro answers as he gives Yangyang a side hug enthusiastically.

"Yeah, though I think y/n and Shotaro act more like lovers than friends," Yangyang adds, lips twisting into a playful smirk as Xiaojun bursts into laughter.

"We're not! We're just friends!" Both you and Shotaro shout in unison, denying what Yangyang just said about the both of you. Unknowingly, by doing so, both of you shot arrows of dull pain through each other's hearts as you left the other wondering if that was all you both were.

"Sure," Xiaojun replies, rolling his eyes jokingly. He'd grown close enough to you guys to tease you too. "I'll believe that when you stop flirting while doing volunteer duties".

"What did we do?" you groan.

"For starters, when we're training the dogs, I always catch the both of you staring at each other," Xiaojun begins.

"We do that?" Shotaro blurts, a light hue of pink beginning to cover his cheeks. However, you don't notice.

"Yeah you do! They're always staring at each other in school too!" Yangyang pipes up. "Even when our friend group goes out! Like they can't keep their eyes to themselves!"

Xiaojun laughs again. "And then, when we walk the dogs, I always hear you both discussing plans with each other," he continues with Yangyang's loud guffaws in the background. "As if you guys are planning dates". He ensures that he emphasises on the last word, wiggling his bushy eyebrows.

"Best friend dates," you add on to what Xiaojun said. "We've been so close since childhood, of course we'd hang out together more often," you argue as Shotaro nods emphatically.

Yangyang rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Anyway, you can't convince me that there's nothing between you guys". He folded his arms, as if to prove his point, and you watch with mild irritation as Xiaojun does the same.

"He has a girlfriend". Pointing at Shotaro, you remind Yangyang of that fact.

"Doesn't mean much," Yangyang shrugs nonchalantly.

"Whatever. Let them figure things out themselves, okay? You still have adoption papers to sign," Xiaojun says with a dramatic eye roll, clipping the leash to Bella's collar and leading Yangyang away to sign the adoption papers.

As you and Shotaro say goodbye to them, you're both left shaking your heads in disbelief. However, their words make you realise how you've felt towards Shotaro for so long. You make a mental note to set a time to talk to your cousin and ask her for advice on what to do in this confusing situation.

»»————-----------------------　♡　-----------------------————-««

"Like, I seriously don't know what's wrong with me!" You huff, using your legs to gently push yourself on the swing, while your cousin, Hyojung, listens to your rant patiently. You managed to get her to meet you at the park to talk through your confusing feelings. "I've been friends with Shotaro since childhood, but never in the course of our friendship have I ever felt this way! I'm probably going crazy".

Hyojung listens attentively, grunting sympathetically from time to time. "y/n, I need to ask you something, and I want you to answer honestly".

You sit upright, looking straight at Hyojung, who's on the swing next to you. "Have you ever thought of him as more than a friend? Or wished that you could be something other than friends with him?"

The question catches you off-guard, and your heart skips a beat. "Wha-"

"y/n." Hyojung gazes at you with her classic motherly look and says your name with an equally motherly tone to match. "You can be honest, I won't judge you".

You fall silent again, thinking of all the times that you've felt that pang of jealousy when Shotaro mentioned Miyoung, when you watched them go on dates and wished that you were Miyoung instead, or when you prayed that Miyoung and Shotaro would cancel their dates. When you recall all the times that you wished it was you instead of Miyoung going on a date with him, you know the answer to your question. "Well...yes," you answer, slightly embarrassed as you look down, scratching the back of your neck.

Hyojung nods understandingly. "You're probably crushing on him then," she concludes casually, and your heart almost stops again.

"Wha- I can't- he's dating someone though!" you protest, wide-eyed.

"You can," Hyojung points out, and you freeze momentarily and go back to listening to her. "You can't control feelings, can you?"

You nod slowly, uncertain of the point she's trying to prove.

"What I'm saying is, feeling this way is completely normal, especially since you've known him for so long," she continues, giving her swing a light push again. "Plus, he's really sweet and gentlemanly, it won't be hard to fall for him".

You almost forget that Shotaro was so close to you, he'd met practically your whole family. "I guess," you sigh as your face falls.

"y/n, it's okay to have these feelings," she reassures you gently, squeezing your shoulder comfortingly. "What I'd suggest is to keep them to yourself for now. Observe his next steps carefully. If he shows signs that he's returning your feelings as well, then go ahead and tell him. If not, try your best to move on," she advises, and you slowly nod, taking in all the information.

"Alright, thanks Hyo," you answer and shoot her a grateful smile.

"No problem, y/n. Don't worry about it, the universe has it all planned out," she says, winking at you. "Now, wanna go get milkshakes? We could go to my house to hang out after this".

"Sure!" You'd never say no to a refreshing, sweet milkshake any day.

The universe has it all planned out. Hyojung's wise words echo in your mind as you let them sink in while walking to the milkshake shop with her. If you were meant to be with Shotaro, then it would come to pass. If not, you'd somehow find a way out of this sticky situation you were in.

»»————-----------------------　♡　-----------------------————-««

As the year progresses, stress begins mounting due to the increasing workload dumped on you by frantic teachers and your new responsibilities as BMA. Moreover, the butterflies inside of you that would go crazy around Shotaro do not serve to help at all, instead adding to your increasing stress and throwing you into confusion.

You're aware that the year isn't getting any easier for your friend either. Ever since he'd been voted in as council president, his responsibilities multiplied faster than any of you had expected. On top of that, his schoolwork and tuition classes had increased (due to his somewhat paranoid parents), and he also had responsibilities as student choreographer in his dance club. Not to mention, he had younger siblings to look after too.

Because you're both aware of the increasing amounts of stress each other face, you try to share each others' burdens, as any best friend would. Shotaro tries his best to help you with subjects that are not exactly your strong suit. You're kinda grateful for the stressful period, as it allows you both to form a stronger bond, whether it was while helping each other out with assignments, complaining about the amount of work you had to do, or listening to each other vent about their stresses. Of course, playing with the animals at the shelter every week also helped you both to unwind, especially Cloud and Jake. Their sweet friendship was really the spitting image of the one between you and Shotaro. They'd be wholesome one moment, and then playfully teasing each other the next. Xiaojun had also kindly allowed you and Shotaro to drop by anytime you felt overly stressed. Not only would he allow you to play with the animals to destress, he would also lend a listening ear as you both vented about the stresses you were facing, and provide encouragement and advice after. Even if he was feeling stressed over finals, he'd assure you both that it was alright to rant to him. You'd both grown closer to him, and you trusted him just like you trusted Hyojung.

However, though all of this was good, it also intensified the feelings you had for Shotaro, as you still struggle to tame the butterflies in your stomach at the way he thanks you when you help him plan a composition, or the palpitations of your heart when he shoots you that adorable smile.

When you couldn't handle the stress and fell sick for three days, he still dropped by your house with food, homework and notes he'd taken for you, although you'd protested against it as you didn't want him to fall sick too. If you were feeling up to it, he'd give you a short tutoring session. Before he left, he'd nag you to take your medicines again.

You were immensely grateful to him, knowing that without his help, you'd be seriously behind the rest of the class. In return, you try to help him with student council matters and babysitting. Whatever you were able to help with, you'd jump in and help him, and he did the same for you too, willingly.

You also knew that his relationship with Miyoung had hit a rocky patch. Though you were admittedly still jealous, you did your best to support him through the trying time. However, what you weren't aware of was the extent of how bad it had become. Shotaro realised that Miyoung never really texted him as much anymore. While he understood that she was busy, he noticed that she was only texting him when she needed something from him, be it help with a subject or extra money. Adding on to that, she'd grown harsher with him. If he'd unintentionally pissed her off, she'd use the harshest of words to scold him. Most of this stuff wasn't anything anyone would scold their friend for, and it wasn't even like he'd made a mistake either. Heck, she'd scold him for being an uncaring and selfish boyfriend just because he said he was stressed out or busy, and would get back to her later. It really bothered him.

In addition to that, he didn't know why his heart would flutter nonstop around you too, or why he'd sometimes find himself getting flustered when you spoke to him, even if you'd just asked him something simple like where both of you should go to eat lunch. It threw him into confusion mixed with a twinge of guilt. After all, he did have a girlfriend.

He didn't want to burden anyone, so he didn't share much about this issue with any of his friends, even you, and tried to keep it to himself. However, it was affecting him quite a bit, and you and your friends are eagle-eyed to spot the changes in his mood.

"Bro, you alright?" Donghyuck asks at your lunch table one day, directing the question to Shotaro, who seems more down than usual. The bags under his eyes seem to have been inked out with a pen, and his eyes have lost their usual cheerful glow. Not to mention, he's clammed up a lot more.

"Yeah," he replies, looking up and managing a half-smile. However, that does little to ease any of your worries. Where was the bright smile all of you loved so much?

"You seem so down lately, Taro," Jaemin points out, concern reflected in his gaze.

"I'm just stressed, that's all," he answers back.

"You know that you can come to us for help anytime, right?" you say, putting a hand on his shoulder.

He nods weakly, smiling half-heartedly again. "I will, thanks," he whispers.

However, the stress soon catches up to him, and soon after you've recovered, he announces in the group chat one day that the flu bug had bitten him too. You owe him one after he took such meticulous care of you, so now, it's your turn to do the same for him.

"Wow, y/n and Shotaro are so close, they share everything. Even germs," Renjun jokes at the table, causing everyone to cackle loudly, when you bring up Shotaro's illness, and the fact that he'll be off school for a week.

Rolling your eyes, you scoff. "Very funny, Jun," you spit, tone laced with sarcasm.

"Seriously though," Donghyuck whines from his end of the table. "When will you tell him how you feel? It's been ages, y/n," he complains.

You feel your heart stop at the question. "W-what do y-you mean how I f-feel?" you stutter, failing to keep your cool.

Yangyang rolls his eyes and sighs dramatically. "Come on, y/n," he groans. "Don't think that we're unaware of your little crush on your childhood best friend".

"What crush?" You continue trying to play it cool, feigning indifference. "It's not like I-"

"Don't lie, y/n," Jaemin cuts you off. "We've known each other since high school started, we can read you like an open book".

"The signs are so obvious, even I can see it," Jeno speaks up. "And we all know I'm the most oblivious here". It was a fact, given that he didn't even know that his past crush, who is now his current girlfriend, liked him until she confessed two years later, despite so many obvious signs from her. "I don't know how Shotaro hasn't picked up on them".

You raise up your hands in surrender, knowing that there was no point in arguing with the friends you'd known for so long. Not as long as you'd known Shotaro, but still long enough to forge a bond thick as thieves. "Okay, okay, fine, I do like him," you admit as you feel your cheeks burn. "But I don't plan to do anything about it. He probably doesn't even like me back". You shrug, trying to feign indifference when in reality, it felt like you'd gotten the tiniest paper cut on your heart. So small, but it stung so much.

Jeno groans and throws his hands up, exasperated. "Oh please, the way he stares at you? Do you really not notice?"

"He has a girlfriend…" you remind them, thinking that they had forgotten.

As soon as you mention his girlfriend, groans and yells of protest go up around your table, starting a mini uproar. "Kim Miyoung? Really?" Renjun scoffs.

"She's been treating him like shit!" Yangyang adds passionately, eyes burning with rage.

"Who in their right mind would scold their boyfriend just for saying he's stressed?" Jaemin continues, brows furrowed in fury.

"I don't think he's even in love with her anymore," Jeno adds. "We've been trying to get him to break up with her, but he's still with her only because he's too scared to break up".

The boys continue to each give a piece of their mind about Miyoung, but Donghyuck remains dead silent throughout. "Um...I'm not sure how to tell you guys this, but...you've gotta see this".

A hush falls over the usually boisterous group at the table, and all five of you crowd expectantly around Donghyuck's phone. He draws up a picture, and as he zooms in, all of you gasp in unison. "Don't tell me that's-"

"That's Miyoung". Donghyuck confirms as he cuts Yangyang off, nodding his head solemnly. "I was passing by, and so happened to witness this".

"Is she- kissing another guy?" Jaemin asks, jaw dropping in disbelief.

"Wow, she was shitty, but I never thought she'd stoop so low and cheat on him," Jeno says scornfully as he rolls his eyes.

"That's low even for her," Renjun agrees.

Meanwhile, you're boiling inside. How could she do such a disgusting thing? You knew that if you'd managed to get with someone as sweet as Shotaro, thoughts of cheating would never, ever cross your mind. "That's not cool," you deadpan, trying to stay calm despite the raging storm inside of your heart now.

"I think he's been so stressed because Miyoung's been manipulating him for so long," Renjun guesses. "Adding on to that, he's got school, student council, dance club, tuition and the animal shelter".

"We've gotta force him to break up with her, before his relationship gets more toxic than it already is," you declare. You're not about to watch your best friend get sucked deeper into a raging whirlpool of a toxic relationship only to be taken advantage of, stepped on, and eventually drowned.

"I don't know how we're gonna do that though…" Jaemin's voice trails off.

"Look, we have a whole week to think about it. Let's use the time wisely," Donghyuck decides as grunts of approval sound all around the table.

»»————-----------------------　♡　-----------------------————-««

A week later, Shotaro returns to school, visibly much more well-rested. You'd been popping by his house every day throughout the week with his homework and warm food for him, filling him in on what he'd missed if he felt well enough, or simply keeping him company. "Hi guys! I've missed you all," he chirps as soon as he sits down at the table with your usual clique. Soon, your table is back to its usual chaotic state, as everyone seems to be in a good mood. That is, until…

"Shotaro...I'm really sorry but, you need to know this". Donghyuck interrupts the cheerful banter, pulling out his phone.

"Is it something serious…?" Shotaro questions as an uncomfortable silence once again falls over the table, and the atmosphere becomes tenser than a stretched-out rubber band.

"Well, yes," Jeno states, having caught Donghyuck's drift.

Without saying another word, Donghyuck shoves his phone under Shotaro's nose. You catch the way his jaw drops to the ground, and how his hand flies to his mouth. "No way…" he whispers, shock written all over his face.

"Hyuck caught her cheating in 4K," Yangyang says as Donghyuck lowers his phone. "You have to break up with her, Taro. She's gone too far".

"Please take into account all the times she's treated you like shit," Renjun cuts Shotaro off as he's about to protest.

The six of you observe as Shotaro's eyes gloss over with dismay, and you swear you can feel your own heart shattering into pieces as you watch his smile fade, instead being replaced with a frown as the corners of his mouth turn down. "I…I can't believe this," he whispers sadly, blinking a few times. "She wasn't being very nice, but I never thought she'd cheat".

"'Not being very nice' is an understatement at this point". Jeno huffs, indignation written all over his face. "She's been nothing but toxic".

"You have to confront her, Shotaro". Jaemin states, giving him his signature motherly stare. After all, he wasn't the "mom of the group" for no reason.

"I don't know…" Shotaro responds, shifting in his seat uneasily as he turns his eyes down.

"It's the best thing for you to do right now," Jeno adds, trying to coax Shotaro to initiate the breakup, since Miyoung wouldn't willingly do so and knowing him, he probably wouldn't be brave enough to do so.

"But…" his voice trails off slowly.

"Look Taro, it's time you let go of her," you speak up. "It's been so long since you've been trapped in this toxic relationship".

"I…" he stutters again, not sure of what to say. "I...kind of don't want to…"

"And why's that?" You do your best to sound patient, but the first arrow of jealousy shoots through your heart as you speak.

"I'm scared to do so, honestly," he confesses, voice barely a whisper.

"We'll all be here to back you up," Jeno encourages him.

"But still…" Shotaro continues on, still unsure.

“Shotaro… you know we love you, we’re your friends, we’ve been through so many things together, you really think we’d ask you to do this just to mess with you?” Renjun says, tone laced with concern.

“…”

“Taro, listen to me: we’d never want something bad to happen to you, much less stand back for long as we watch how a person drags you down, becoming a shell of who you used to be," you add, hopeful that this would convince him to make the first move to breakup.

"But I'm scared…" he protests weakly.

"Really? That's the best excuse you have?" you scoff, the jealousy you were suppressing so well earlier slowly seeping through the walls of your heart, like water from a leaking dam.

"It's scary, okay? Don't talk like that when you haven't been in a relationship before!" Shotaro replies, clearly a little irritated.

"It's not that hard!" you snap back. Jeno, ever the sensible one, nudges you trying to calm you down, but jealousy had just about completely taken over you by then.

Everyone at the table watches as Shotaro draws in a deep breath. "If what you're saying is true," he begins, “then why haven’t you said anything before, huh?! She told me you’d try this, you know? That you’d get jealous when I didn’t spend as much time with you as I did with her, but that’s not my fault! I’m allowed to have a relationship!” he argues back. "I don't discount the possibility of what you said being true, but I'm not ready to break up now!"

“We did, Taro! We did! So many times, and you brushed it off, or chose to ignore us, when all we wanted was to let you see for yourself how she was hurting you!” you shout back. By now, the entire canteen's eyes are riveted on the scene.

“But she isn’t hurting me! She loves me!” he protests. His tone sounded more like he was trying to convince himself, rather than like he actually believed what he just said. You swore that you saw a glistening layer over his eyes.

“No she doesn’t and you know that!” you fire back, sounding as heated as you feel.

"Well how would you know?" he demands, sounding more annoyed with every word he spoke. "You're not her".

"When the fuck will you stop being so stubborn and actually listen to what we're saying? Gosh, Shotaro. Aren't friends supposed to listen to each other? Then why are you still stuck in your own stupid corner, refusing to see things from our perspective? Who do you think you are, God?" you spit, tone containing traces of venom. By now, every emotion you felt - jealousy, anger, heartache - they swirled together in your heart, creating a tempestuous storm which raged on fiercely.

"Then why don't you believe me when I say I'm scared?" he questions, a stray tear escaping his eyes. "Why don't you understand how I feel?"

"It's. Not. That. Hard!" You're screaming your head off now, with the rest of your friend group standing around, not knowing how to react. "I can't believe you're still so weak, even after so long!"

"I-" Shotaro tries to say, but you hold out a hand.

"Whatever. If you're going to continue being stuck wherever you are, I'm not gonna bother. Go on being the fucking blind coward you are". You declare, slamming your hands onto the table with a thump of finality, before strutting away from the table, huffing as you exit.

»»————-----------------------　♡　-----------------------————-««

That day, you and Shotaro go separate ways, because he had to meet Miyoung and also partly because of the argument you'd both had earlier. You head straight home, take a shower, and try to get to your homework, but your mind isn't focusing. Instead, it keeps jumping back to the argument you and Shotaro had earlier.

Why was I so upset over it earlier? That's not me.

Realising that you won't be getting anything done, you pick up your phone and send Xiaojun a text.

You: hey, can i come over?

Xiaojun: sure! i'll be a while though, attending to an injured guinea pig

Xiaojun: you can go play with the animals first! the dogs are in the backyard

You: okay

You pack a few things, then leave your house for the shelter. Making a beeline for the backyard, you catch sight of Cloud, who's lying next to a sound-asleep Jake. It seems that she's spotted you too, because her ears perk up and she immediately leaves Jake's side and comes trotting to you. "Hey Cloud," you say, feeling some of the gloom in your heart dissolve as you pick up her favourite toy and begin playing fetch with her. As usual, she's a ball of energy, running after the toy no matter how far or where you threw it, barking as she does so.

After a while, she grows tired, and she settles down on your lap as you sit on the grass and stroke her smooth, white coat. "You came," Xiaojun's voice sounds from beside you as he emerges from the shelter.

"Yeah," you reply lamely.

"Something bothering you?" he asks, voice showing concern as he sits next to you. Jake comes up next to him, and lies down again. Xiaojun begins running his hand over Jake's fur.

"Well...me and Shotaro, we kinda had an argument," you admit.

"What was it about?" Xiaojun asks again.

"My friend group and I were trying to convince him to break up with his girlfriend, since she's been nothing but manipulative and toxic to him. Also, she cheated on him. We have photographic proof," you begin as Xiaojun nods, beckoning you to go on. You show him the photo, and he tuts disapprovingly at the girl, shaking his head.

"But he kept saying that he was afraid to do so, and...I don't know why, but I lost my cool. I said some things I shouldn't have. I called him blind and a coward, and I know that the 'coward' one would hurt him really badly. I regret it now. I don't even know why I did what I did," you sigh, regret beginning to hit you like a ton of bricks. "It's not like me to react this way".

Xiaojun hums in understanding as he purses his lips for the right words. "I get it," he says finally. "I don't know if I'm right, but...maybe you're feeling jealous".

You consider denying it for a few seconds, but decide against it, letting your shoulders sag in defeat. "Okay, maybe I am," you admit.

"So that's why you lashed out when he said he didn't want to break up with Miyoung, besides the fact that you were concerned for him," Xiaojun adds as you nod meekly, knowing that the truth was out. You found that Xiaojun was trustworthy, so you trusted him enough to tell him how you truly felt about Shotaro.

"It was partly the reason, but not the main one," you add. "Oh, how do I get over these stupid feelings?" you groan, more to yourself than to Xiaojun.

Xiaojun nods again. "Sometimes, you just let them pass. Other times, you act on them," he tells you truthfully. "They might be there for a reason. If they're not, you'll find a way," he answers.

He seriously sounded like Hyojung. "Okay," you reply, letting out another heavy sigh. "Do you think I've ruined our friendship?" you ask, petting Cloud dejectedly as she falls asleep.

Xiaojun thinks your question over, before turning back and giving you an answer. "No. Shotaro's very sweet and forgiving. You're his childhood best friend, he'd definitely forgive you, I'm sure".

You nod slowly, processing what Xiaojun is saying.

"But I think you both should apologise to each other," Xiaojun continues on. "Both of you definitely exchanged hurtful remarks, and everyone's feelings were hurt in the process," he says truthfully. "I hope you both can fix things. I don't want to witness your friendship crumble".

You nod. "I hope so too".

Xiaojun gives you a warm, reassuring smile. "I've got stuff to attend to now. My project group wants to call," he informs you. "I might be back later. If I am, I'll say hi to you again," he informs. "I hope you're feeling better.

"I am," you say. It wasn't a lie. Xiaojun's advice had given you some comfort compared to earlier. As he walks away, you fail to see Shotaro come in from the corner of your eye. That is, until Jake perks up, brown eyes gleaming excitedly as he lets out a happy bark, then gets up and rushes towards the gate.

Shotaro must have seen you too, because you watch as he quickly averts his gaze from you, choosing to focus his attention on Jake instead as he showers him with lots of love and pets. A pang of guilt arises in you as the events of the earlier argument replay in your mind. Way to go, snapping at him over something dumb and possibly ruining your friendship.

You're so focused on moping, you don't realise that Shotaro has come to sit next to you. "I'm sorry," his voice suddenly cuts through your thoughts, and you sit up with a start.

You turn, and suddenly you're staring into his brown eyes, which held so much emotion in that moment. "For what?" you ask listlessly, mindlessly stroking Cloud's fur.

"For snapping earlier. I should have kept my cool and controlled my emotions better. I know I said insensitive things," he says quietly, turning his eyes downwards again. Jake seems to have sensed that he wasn't feeling good, because he's now started licking Shotaro's hand comfortingly. "I'm really sorry. I should have thought before I spoke".

"Why are you apologising? I should be the one saying sorry," you blurt out. "I blew up at you first, and -" you pause, scrabbling in your mind for the right words, before finally giving up. "I don't even know why. It's a dumb reason, I know, but it's the truth".

"It's not dumb," Shotaro answers. "We've all been there, haven't we?" A chuckle of amusement escapes him.

"It's still not an excuse," you protest feebly, your last brain cell having long given up on you. "I'm truly sorry for lashing out on you earlier".

Shotaro smiles reassuringly. "I forgive you. I hope you'll forgive me too".

"Of course I will," you reply, squeezing his shoulder to comfort him. "We're still friends, right?"

You wish to slap yourself right then and there, for randomly blurting out every thought that was on your mind.

Shotaro giggles, sending waves through you again. "Of course! Do you really think I'd throw twelve years' worth of friendship away like that?" he asks.

You smile, knowing that you could finally stop worrying about what would become of you and Shotaro's friendship. Just then, you catch sight of his tear-streaked cheeks, and the fact that his eyes are slightly red and swollen. "Did something happen?" you inquire, genuinely concerned for Shotaro now as your brows knit together in concern. "You can tell me anything," you reassure him. You'd gone from insulting him a few hours ago to comforting him when bad stuff happened.

Shotaro's face falls. "About that..I broke up with her". He quietly says.

Your eyes widen in interest. "You did? She initiated it?"

He shakes his head. "No. I did".

You place an arm around him in silent comfort, preparing to listen to his story. "I thought about what the friend group said today at recess, and decided that yes, as much as I was scared, I did have to end the toxic relationship. So I showed her the picture Donghyuck took as proof, and let her know that I felt disrespected that she'd gone and cheated on me, instead of telling me that she had feelings for someone else so that we could work things out together, or have a closure".

Nodding, you urge him to go on. "I was just hoping for an apology from her so that we could end things peacefully, but she slapped me instead".

"Ayo what-" at his statement, your jaw drops, and your mouth is so wide open that a cow could probably fall into it. That explained the faint purple bruise on his cheek. You had expected her to get angry, but to slap him? Was she insane?

"She said that it was my fault that we didn't work out and-" his eyes swim with tears again as he pauses, and you feel your own eyes water at the heart-wrenching sight. Choking on a sob, he continues. "She said that she should have known that I wasn't good enough for her". Both dogs seem to pick up on the change in mood, and immediately snuggle closer to him, as if trying to cheer him up as he pets them gratefully.

Hearing this, your blood begins boiling. "Not good enough for her?"

"She said that I was too ugly for her. That I was too sensitive. That she would have liked me better if I was tougher - and I quote - because she wouldn't want to date a pussy," he sniffs, feeling himself break down again. "She also said I was selfish for all the times I replied to her late because I was busy. That I didn't put any effort into the relationship".

"Liar," you spit, voice dripping with venom. "Who is she to speak?" Your volume increases in a crescendo as your voice rises to fever-pitch. Unable to hold in your fury, you begin swearing your head off while ranting about Miyoung, spewing profanities a mile per minute. By now, both dogs are also barking their heads off, as if angry with Miyoung as well.

Shotaro has calmed down a little, and is now looking at you, unsure of whether to stop you or let you go on raging like a bull. "Um...y/n...please calm down," he says softly, tapping on your shoulder.

You stop midway through the freestyle diss track you were on, realising you'd said some things you probably shouldn't have said. (Then again, who holds back when defending their best friend?)

Shotaro sighs, eyes still glistening with tears. "It's just...what if she was right? What if I was less selfish? What if I was tougher? What if I-"

"I'm stopping you right there!" You cut him off as you gently nudge him, unable to watch him keep blaming himself for the failure of the relationship. "It's not you, you know. It's her".

He looks you in the eye for the first time throughout the conversation. "They say it takes two hands to clap, though".

"Look, if she can't accept you for who you are, that's her fault". You state your point clearly, gazing at him in a firm yet comforting manner. "And she took advantage of you, didn't she? She manipulated you to get what she wanted!"

Shotaro nods, knowing that what you said was true.

"And you were the one always checking in on her, listening to her rant. Not once did she care to ask how you were doing. She'd just go straight on and rant about her problems," you continue as more of her flaws continue coming to your mind.

"Yeah…" Shotaro muses.

"Weren't you the one who asked her out most of the time? What does she mean by 'you didn't put in effort'? And not to mention, she was the one who cheated, not you. You were loyal even to the end. The same can't be said about her," you add, still in a huff over what she had done to your friend. Jake and Cloud cuddle up next to Shotaro as he pets the dogs.

"That's true I guess…" Shotaro looks away again, contemplating what you just said.

"How did you hold on to such a toxic relationship for so long?" you question Shotaro, narrowing your eyes as you silently wonder how he was still able to love someone like her.

"I guess I was just scared of breaking it off. She was really nice at first, and we were truly in love with each other," he begins, turning his eyes downwards again. "But over the course of our relationship I realised that she was becoming more and more manipulative, and I found interacting with her becoming extremely draining. I think at that point, I fell out of love with her, but I still stuck around, knowing that I didn't have the courage to cut off the relationship".

You nod encouragingly, patting him on the shoulder. "I'm glad you found it in the end".

"Yeah, I feel so much more relieved after ending the relationship, to be honest," he admits, much calmer than he was before. "I feel so dumb for crying over this now," he adds with a small laugh.

"No," you shake your head. "Don't feel that way. She said stuff that really stung". You knew that she'd attacked his insecurities and guilt-tripped him during the confrontation, so he would no doubt be feeling very hurt about it. "Besides, there were feelings attached for a while, especially at the beginning of the relationship".

Shotaro hums, knowing that that was true.

"And don't change a thing about yourself. You're great the way you are," you encourage him, smiling at him reassuringly as you put a hand on his shoulder.

"Really?" he looks at you, expression betraying his disbelief.

"Of course! If not, you wouldn't be my best friend!" you reply, smacking him playfully as he begins laughing.

Unbeknownst to you, Xiaojun watches the scene from afar, a smile on his face, feeling happy that the storm clouds had cleared and your friendship was restored.

»»————-----------------------　♡　-----------------------————-««

The rest of the week progresses as if the argument didn't happen at all, and Shotaro and you are back to being the best of friends. Saturday arrives, and after a quick drink of a vanilla latte the both of you are ready to head to the shelter for another day of volunteering. Today, there seems to be less duties than usual, and both of you have about two hours left to train the dogs and play with them.

You enter the Dog Dorm, and both your eyes light up immediately as soon as Jake and Cloud run over.

You've forged a strong bond with these two dogs, and it is evident from the way they follow you around like the lamb in the nursery rhyme. When you both leave, Jake's whimpers and whines would tug at your heartstrings as he tried to follow both of you out, while Cloud would just gaze at both of you, sadness evident in her large puppy eyes.

"They're so cute," you say as Cloud is sitting in your lap as you pat Jake. "I want one of them".

"Me too," Shotaro says, reaching over to feed Cloud a treat. "I miss having a dog around the house".

"Why don't you adopt them then?" Xiaojun asks as he enters the area with a golden retriever, who'd just returned from a grooming session. "They'd suit you".

"I've discussed it with my parents, actually," Shotaro speaks first as Jake runs up to Xiaojun. "They said that Jake sounds like a really sweet dog, and that they'd be open to the idea of adopting him".

"I have yet to talk to my parents, but I believe they'd be alright with adopting Cloud," you mention after Shotaro. "Besides, Pebble gets along with dogs well". You smile at the thought of your fluffy, but slightly chonky, grey cat you keep at home.

"That's great!" Xiaojun enthuses, unable to hide his happy smile as he . "Jake and Cloud do need forever homes, but they can't be separated for too long, so we thought you'd both be great candidates for potential owners since you're both next door neighbours. They've been best friends since they were puppies," he explains. "Like the both of you, childhood best friends".

You both laugh at the statement, but neither of you pick up on the hints of bitterness in both of your laughs. Best friends? Why did your relationship have to stay like that?

Was that all both of you would ever be?

Little did you know, Xiaojun had picked up on it as he went on talking, informing you about the adoption process, which involved paperwork and a house visit.

As he had hoped, you'd both convinced your families to let you adopt the dogs. Sending the dogs off with you both, he silently prayed that your new pets would help you both get closer than you already were.

And they did.

You'd both meet up even more frequently now to let the dogs play with each other. Today, he’s at your house, enjoying a cup of hot chocolate as Cloud, Jake and Pebble chase each other around the house.

"Your cat is really friendly with dogs," he comments as he watches Pebble play wrestle Cloud to the ground.

"Yeah, she's used to them," you reply. "Actually, maybe more than that," you add with a laugh as Pebble allows Jake to gently bite one of her ears, conceding defeat.

"Oh yeah, I trained Jake to do this," Shotaro says, perking up as he remembers.

"Hmm? What is it?" Your curiosity is piqued as Shotaro calls Jake over.

You watch as Shotaro holds out his fingers in a gun position in front of Jake. "Bang!" he says, flicking his hand upwards as if he'd just shot Jake. The Samoyed falls over with his eyes shut as he remains motionless. His mouth is slightly open with his tongue lolling out, for an even more realistic effect, and you can't help but laugh at the sight.

"Jake learns so well!" You marvel as the pup gets back up, wagging his tail excitedly as he eyed the treats in Shotaro's hand. Cloud barks, as if egging Jake on and telling him he did a great job as Shotaro feeds the treats to both dogs.

"It took him a while to learn, but he got it in the end," Shotaro tells you. "He does learn quite fast".

"Faster than you," you reply, taking the chance to roast Shotaro.

"Hey!" he says with a small pout, obviously caught off-guard by your sudden roast. However, he can't resist the urge to laugh as well when your own contagious laughter fills the room. As such, that afternoon ends with laughter and smiles.

»»————-----------------------　♡　-----------------------————-««

"Oh no," Yangyang whines, dejectedly tossing his pen onto the floor. It clatters as he runs his fingers through his hair in frustration and turns to the paper again. "I still don't understand this!"

You're all at Shotaro's house for your weekly study session together. Yes, the whole group only met together for study sessions and occasional sleepovers on Fridays, but you had the privilege of going over every day. Childhood best friend and neighbour privileges.

"Exams are fast approaching, and then soon...we'll be in our final year," Renjun comments, glancing up from the history textbook he'd been studying. "Time really flies".

"Yeah…I hope we'll all do well," Jaemin answers, not looking up from his English notebook. "We've all worked hard".

"We will," Shotaro adds with certainty. "Even if it's not up to our expectations, we'll all still do well".

"As long as we've done our best, we can be proud of ourselves," Jeno reminds all of you. "Don't beat yourself up. What's more important is that you learn from your mistakes".

"Thanks for the advice, Jeno," Yangyang states as he picks up his pen and sighs again. "But I still really need help with this part".

"I'll help, " Jeno responds, taking the book from Yangyang and studying the question.

You're stuck in about the same position as Yangyang as you're left gawking at your history paper as if it were written in Greek. However, unlike the boy, you didn't voice your concerns. You continued to stare at the page, trying to process the question. However, the words seemed to dance around the page, and before you know it, you're zoning out.

"Need help?" You snap out of your daze as Shotaro's soft voice rings next to your ear, and his hand appears on your shoulder.

"Yeah...I just can't seem to understand this source," you say, pointing out one of the questions to Shotaro.

"Oh! I understand it, I finished this yesterday," he says, grinning excitedly as he finishes studying the question. "I'll help you with it!"

"Thanks…" you try your best to sound cheerful and energetic, although the pressure weighing down on your heart prevents you from actually feeling like it. You were sure that the others also felt stressed, but they weren't saying anything, so you shouldn't either.

"...y/n? y/n? Earth to y/n…?" A hand waves in front of your face, and you're brought back to reality.

"Ah...sorry, I spaced out," you admit, a blush creeping across your cheeks. Whether it was from embarrassment or something else, you didn't know. Maybe both.

Shotaro's brows knit together. "Are you anxious?" he asks, knowing that you tend to space out when you're anxious. "Let's go, we can talk it out".

He excuses the both of you and leads you to the kitchen. After pouring you a glass of water, he sits you down at his kitchen table. "How are you feeling?" he asks, putting the jug back.

You shake your head as your heart rate seems to double, your breaths become faster and shallower, tears threatening to fall. "I...I…" you stutter, brain unable to form sentences and words at the moment.

Shotaro picks up on your distress, and sweeps you into a hug. You don't resist, instead reciprocating it. "Let it all out. I know you've been stressed," he tells you as your tears fall onto his shoulder. You sniffle quietly, the floodgates opening as you stay enclosed in his embrace for a few minutes, letting the tears freely flow.

"I- I'm stressed," you admit. "The exams are coming soon…and what's more, all the new responsibilities of the student council, band…"

He grunts sympathetically, lips pursed as he searches for the right words.

"What if I fail and get retained? I won't be able to live that down," you sniffle as you recall the dreadful sense of failure after you didn't do well in your exams last year.

All is silent for a moment as Shotaro thinks of his next words. "You won't. You're bright and smart, and you've worked super hard. Besides, no matter what the outcome, I'll always be here for you," he mumbles, unsure of whether what he is saying is helpful.

You look up at him. "Really?"

"Yes, really," he replies, giving you a warm smile, the smile that always brought you comfort, yet made you get a nervous rush at the same time. It's at this moment that you both realise you've probably been hugging a little too long, and you abruptly pull out of each others' hold.

Wish it lasted longer.

"Thank you so much," you whisper, feeling a lot less anxious than you were a few minutes ago.

"Glad I could help," he answers as he rubs your back comfortingly. "When exams are over, we'll do what we used to do as kids and have sleepovers, just you and me, okay? Of course, we'll also have one with the others, but I'd like to just hang out with you first".

"I'd love that," you nod. "Thank you, Taro. I love you".

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you're stunned by your unexpected confession. Oh no! What an idiot, he's gonna think you're weird now! You think, a small wave of panic washing over your mind again.

A light blush forms on Shotaro's cheeks as his mouth forms a stunned "o". "You mean it-?" he asks, unable to believe his ears.

"I- of course I do! But platonically! Platonically!" Painful as it was to say, you still had to add the fact that you meant it platonically and not romantically.

It feels as if someone lightly cut your heart with a small shard of glass when his giggles reach your ears. "I love you too," he replies. "Platonically". The last word is so soft, you barely hear it.

"Woi! Are you both done?" an impatient shout and a few knocks sounds outside the door. "You've both been gone so long!" Renjun's voice continues.

A panicked look simultaneously crosses your faces as Shotaro rushes to open the door and usher you out. "Yes, yes! We're ready!" he exclaims, dragging you out of the room

Oh, how I wish I wasn't such a chicken and told him I meant it in some other way.

»»————-----------------------　♡　-----------------------————-««

"It's finished!"

"We did it!"

Cheerful shouts and screams echo through the corridor of the level as students celebrate the end of their exams, and of course you and Shotaro just had to join the impromptu celebrations as well. "We did it, Taro!" you enthusiastically shout, slinging an arm around his shoulder as you both skip out of the classroom.

"Finally! Good job, y/n," his melodious laugh finally sounds out again after so long, due to him feeling too stressed to be happy. Relief washed over your heart as you saw an adorable grin appear on his face, complete with his signature eye smile. He gives you a high-five to congratulate you.

"The exams were quite alright, actually," you say to Shotaro as he bobs his head up and down in agreement with you.

"They weren't that bad. The only subject I'm kinda worried about is Biology, but it wasn't too hard," he agrees. "Our mugging sure paid off!" he adds, excited that his hard work had paid off.

"Now that it's over, we should celebrate together!" you suggest, excitement still bubbling out of you. "We should hang out!"

Shotaro's eyes sparkle at your suggestion. "We should! Oh yeah, I said that after exams, we'd have a sleepover together," he reminds you.

"Right, you did," you recall. "So when?"

"Tonight? 7 pm?" he suggests. "You alright with that?"

You think for a few seconds before replying. "Should be. If I can't make it, I'll text you," you add.

He nods, still grinning so brightly, he could rival the sun. "Alright then, I'll see you later! You can bring Cloud and Pebble if you want".

True to your word, you arrive at his house at 7 pm sharp. He appears at the door as soon as you show up at his doorstep. "Y/n!" he greets cheerfully, seemingly delighted that you'd get to have a sleepover with him again after forever.

"Taro!" You return his greeting before pulling him in for a hug.

Soon, you’re both in the comfort of his room, sitting on the carpet on his floor. “So…what do you wanna do?” he asks, uncertain. “We could watch Netflix, or we could play a game, or we could do something else…”

“Let’s play Mario Kart. I’ll beat your high score this time,” you smirk, confident that this time you’d win. The last time you both played, it didn’t go well for you, with you losing terribly and Shotaro celebrating his victory in front of you.

“It’s on”. Shotaro narrows his eyes into slits and stares at you for a while before moving to set up the game consoles. Soon, you're engaged in an intense battle of Mario Kart together, with both of you trying to distract each other to win the game. Meanwhile, Jake and Cloud watch at the side, barking. It’s a close fight, but just at the end, you overtake him and win by one second.

“Hey! You cheated!” Shotaro protests. He was referring to the way you’d made so many weird noises and faces in front of him just to distract him - which apparently was successful.

“Did not,” you say in response. “You tried distracting me too!”

“But I didn’t even do that as much as you!” he argues.

You roll your eyes and sigh dramatically. “I still won, fair and square”.

Sighing, he shakes his head and gets up, tackling you to the ground. You panic a little as you’re unable to overpower him, as he towers over you with his height.

At that moment, an idea strikes you. There was one strategy that you hadn't used against Shotaro since your childhood. But you remember that it was very effective, with him surrendering within minutes. You're unsure if it will work again, but you try anyway, reaching up with your free hand to poke his side lightly. You can't stop the smirk that forms on your face as he withdraws and lets out a small squeak.

You grin the most evil grin you've ever grinned in your life, and soon the tables have turned, with him desperately trying to squirm away from you and block your attacks while you simply laugh at his predicament, continuing to tickle him. The heart-melting smile you'd always loved appears on his face, his eyes lighting up as laughter and occasional squeals pour out of him. You soon find yourself laughing with him as you watch him smile and laugh brighter than a ray of sunshine while you chase him.

"y/n stop!" he repeatedly begs in between laughs. He tries to tickle you back, which fails since you're not ticklish.

"No!" you resolutely declare, and keep up the attack. That is, until a loud thump sounds and Shotaro lets out an "ouch", prompting you to stop.

"Oh my goodness, are you alright?" you ask him repeatedly as you check on him. While struggling to escape from you, he'd rolled all the way to where his study table was and hit his head on the leg of the table. "I'm so sorry, Taro," you apologise, feeling genuinely concerned for him.

He sits up, rubbing his head, still laughing. "It's alright, y/n. That was actually kinda funny," he giggles. It seemed as if his smile had never faded by the slightest bit.

Seeing that he's alright, you let out a sigh of relief, and before you know it laughter fills the room as you both share a laugh over what had just happened. Looking into your eyes, in that moment, Shotaro could feel something warm and fuzzy bubbling up inside of his heart - maybe even something fluttering inside of him. Memories of the times you'd had together run through his mind, almost as if he was reliving them. The first time you'd met, the first playdate you'd both had, the smiles of elation shared during middle school graduation. The countless laughs shared together, the times you'd cried with each other, the times you'd helped each other through school while complaining together. You were the one who'd been there with him, come hell or high water, since childhood. At that moment, he realises that you're truly his other half. Not someone like Kim Miyoung, who'd just used him like her puppet, manipulating him for her own purposes and trampling on his feelings. He realises that the fluttering in his heart, the giddy feeling, the blush that would find its way to his cheeks whenever he was around you - there was a reason why he felt all of those.

He knew that you were just the right one for him. But what was stopping him? On one hand, he desired to spill all his feelings to you. To hold on to that small sliver of hope he had that'd you'd return his feelings, let you know how he realised he felt about you, even if he'd just ended a relationship gone wrong. Though technically, it had ended long ago, with the hell she'd put him through.

On the other hand, something stopped him. What was it? He couldn't pinpoint it either. All he knew was that the right time was not now. Besides, his freshly wounded heart wasn't ready for another relationship. Yet.

He sighs inwardly. Why are feelings so complicated? He questions. If only it were simpler. Maybe I'd have an easier time...

"Whatever. Good game," your voice permeates his thoughts and brings him back to reality. "What do you wanna do now?"

"We could watch Netflix," he suggests, turning on the TV. "There's this new show I wanna watch".

Soon, you're both engaged in the movie. Jake, Cloud and Pebble have long fallen asleep, sharing the big dog bed. You don't know when you realise, but at some point your head ends up resting on his shoulder. His arm is slung around your shoulders, and you're aware of his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand. You look up and you're met with the sight of him focused on the screen, his eye smile in full view as he focuses on the scene playing in front of you. The scent of his sakura shampoo wafts into your nose.

Is this really what just friends do? You question internally. Before you know it, you've drifted into dreamland.

"Every day...I fall for you harder," Shotaro confesses quietly as he caresses your hair gently. His whisper is snatched away by the gentle night wind as it goes by unheard by you, as you're sound asleep.

»»————-----------------------　♡　-----------------------————-««

“Fetch!” Shotaro’s voice resonates in the evening air as he hurls the rubber ball some distance away. All three animals jump up and race after the ball. To your amusement, Pebble comes running back with the ball in her mouth, the other two animals hot on her heels.

“Looks like letting Pebble befriend dogs was a good choice,” you remark, taking the ball and patting Pebble on the head. “This is the most active she’s been!” Both of you laugh, knowing that before both dogs were adopted by you and Shotaro, Pebble had spent most of her days lazing around in the house. When she wasn’t eating, she was either sitting or sleeping.

A few more rounds of fetch later, when everyone is tired out, all of you find a big tree to sit down under and rest. That’s when Shotaro gets the idea of showing you the item that the dance club is going to perform for the upcoming New Year’s Countdown celebration, that is held yearly by the town council, featuring performances from residents, young and old alike. The school had sent the dance club and the symphonic band to perform, so the both of you would be performing. Earlier that day at the shelter, Xiaojun had revealed that he had been chosen to emcee for the celebration.

“And…that’s it!” Shotaro does the ending pose as you burst into applause. He then walks off, smiling shyly as he makes his way back to sit beside you under the tree. “That’s about it,” he says.

“That was so good, Taro! I can’t wait to see the dance club’s performance!” Even after he was done, you were still marvelling over the complexity of the routine, which stood out even more due to his beautiful technique. You were blown away by the fact that your friend had helped to choreograph such a difficult piece, and was also able to pull it off perfectly.

“Thanks! I can’t wait for the symphonic band’s performance as well. Especially your piccolo solo, I loved it so much,” he comments as your face heats up a little.

“Thanks, I’ll do my best!” you say, looking up at him and doing the “fighting” gesture.

“The year is ending so fast, don’t you think?” Shotaro asks, looking up. Ahead, the sky is painted with pinks, purples and oranges of every hue, a sight for sore eyes indeed. Yet, you find your eyes being drawn to your best friend.

“It is,” you say. “Before you know it, we’ll be in our final year of high school,” you answer, the reality of everything seeping through like blood on a white garment.

“I hope that the friend group will stay together, I really love everyone there,” Shotaro admits, eyes glistening a little as the sad possibility of the friend group separating runs through his mind. “We’re all planning to study different college courses and we might not see each other anymore”.

“Nah, I bet Hyuck will initiate a meetup as soon as he gets the chance,” you say. Most of the meetups the friend group had had been planned by Donghyuck, being the extrovert he was. If there was any hope for the friend group to stay together, it would be Donghyuck. “However busy he is, he’ll definitely plan something. Mark my words”.

“Yeah, he will,” Shotaro finally lets out a sigh of relief. “At least there’s still hope for the group to meet up again. “I know I’ll definitely see you around, though”. He turns to you, hope reflecting in his gaze.

“We’re neighbours, after all. And plus, Cloud, Jake and Pebble are gonna wanna see each other,” you reply honestly, giving Cloud a sip from a water bottle. You wouldn’t admit this to him out loud, but you’d feel like a part of you would be gone if you both stopped meeting up.

“I’m glad I’ll still see you around,” he says as he wraps his arms around your shoulders. You subconsciously return the hug, relaxing in his grip. Sure, the hug felt a little longer than those you’d usually give each other, but neither of you complained, staying in each other’s hold until it was time to go home.

»»————-----------------------　♡　-----------------------————-««

Time continues to fly by, and soon the New Year’s Countdown has arrived. The symphonic band had just delivered their performance and received a standing ovation, much to your pleasant surprise. You, Renjun and Donghyuck return to the picnic mat that you and your friends had laid out on the grass as Xiaojun returns to the stage.

“That was an outstanding performance by NCIT Symphonic Band! Next, we have NCIT Dance Club, bringing us a piece titled ‘New Beginnings’. Let’s put our hands together to welcome them!” he recites off his cue cards, before walking off again as the lights dim.

The lights come on again, revealing the dancers on stage in their starting positions. Though there are so many of them, your eyes immediately locate Shotaro, standing at the left side of the formation. “Shotaro! Jaemin! Jeno! Yangyang!” you and your friends cheer as loudly as you can for your friends who are onstage, so much that you thought your lungs would explode. You only quiet down when the dancers start. Though your other three friends were amazing, for some reason, your eyes keep being drawn to Shotaro as he dances with both the grace of a swan and the power of a deer. The three of you are unable to hold back your cheers when the other dancers move to the side of the stage, leaving Shotaro onstage as he begins his solo, executing his moves cleanly as he exudes confidence and charisma. You’re so enchanted by his every move that you’re positive that you didn’t breathe for the entire solo.

All too soon, his performance draws to a close, and the audience gives the dancers a thunderous round of applause. “Yo y/n, my parents are looking for us. We’ll be back!” Renjun informs as he and Donghyuck get up and leave the mat.

“Alright, see you later!” you answer, thinking nothing about it.

A few minutes later, Shotaro arrives. “You guys were amazing!” you immediately gush as he sits down beside you. “Your solo was amazing!”

“Thank you,” he says quietly, happiness radiating off his smile. In that instant, you feel your heart flutter again.

That’s when you register that Yangyang, Jeno and Jaemin are nowhere to be seen. “Where are the others?” you ask Shotaro.

He shrugs. “Don’t know. Said they’ll join us soon though”.

“Alright then,” you answer and turn back to face the stage.

The programme progresses, but you’re barely focusing on it. For some reason, three words kept echoing in your mind, distracting you from the performances in front of you. Words that you wanted to say to Shotaro so badly. They were always hanging off the tip of your tongue, yet you sorely lacked the courage to say them to him. What if I ruin what we already have? This thought haunted you like a monster that lurked in the depths of your mind. It only appeared whenever you had made up your mind to tell him how you felt, effectively breaking down all the confidence and composure you'd spent days, even weeks, building up.

Plus, next year will be the final year in high school for both of you, meaning a heavier workload as teachers scramble to arm students with knowledge for the final exams, hoping for them to get into their dream universities. You didn't know if you both could commit to a relationship now, considering the workload to come. So much to think about…

"y/n? You've been quiet, you alright?" Shotaro's soft, sweet voice brings you back to the real world.

Shaking your head gently to bring yourself out of your daze, you turn to him and whisper, "I'm fine, I was just thinking about something". He then nods and turns back to the stage where the emcees are waiting for the final countdown.

"y/n...there's actually something I want to tell you". Shotaro speaks up from next to you.

"Hmm?" you hum, still distracted by your train of thought.

"I...I really like you. W-wait, nevermind, scratch that, l-love you. Like, non platonically love you”.

Your heart skips a beat, and your head snaps in his direction. Your eyes behold the sight of a very flustered Shotaro, his cheeks tinted a shade of pink. "Wait, can you repeat that?" You reckon that your eyes must be as wide as grapefruits, but you don't care.

"I love you," he repeats, with more confidence this time. "It took so long for me to realise. But even after I did, I was so afraid to tell you, y/n".

You look down, trying to hide the blush creeping up your own cheeks as well.

"I didn't realise how I felt towards you. But when we spent more time together through volunteering, studying together and just hanging out, that's when I realised that I felt more than just platonic attraction to you. I was so afraid to confess, because I always feared ruining the many years of pure friendship we've had". Shotaro rambles on like a bullet train, mumbling so fast you can barely hear him. "And I was afraid of getting my heart broken again…" he adds, remembering the pain of his first ever relationship, which ended in lots of tears and pain for him.

"Shotaro…" your voice trails off.

"It's fine if you don't feel the same way towards me, y/n. I just wanted to get my feelings off my chest. Thanks for hearing me out". He says, before looking away from you slightly and blinking a couple of times.

"No, Shotaro, hear me out". After his brave confession, it was your turn to tell him how you felt too. "I love you too".

He turns back to you quickly, eyes holding the tiniest hint of hope. "I've had a growing crush on you since school reopened after the holidays, but I didn't dare to tell you how I felt," you chuckle, realising that you both were stuck in the same situation. "I feared destroying our friendship too".

"So...we're in the same boat, huh". He responds after a silence that seemed to last for eternity.

"Yeah…" you look down, lost for more words. "So now that we know how we feel towards each other...do you wanna...perhaps give things a try?" you blurt out, before facepalming mentally.

"But...we're going to be preparing for our finals next year, and there'll be so much more to do. We'll be focusing on our studies, I'm not sure if we'll have time…" Shotaro trailed off, an uncertain tone lacing his words.

You silently mull over what Shotaro said, knowing that you were thinking of the same thing, and that he had a point. Yet, in your heart, the tiniest voice was nudging you to just give it a try. It was as if some angel was reassuring you that the heavens would take care of it, and that destiny was now taking its due course. "Like someone wise once said, it's much easier when you've got someone by your side. Sure, we might be busier than ever, but we'll have each other, right?" you speak up, looking up at him hopefully. "We've made it since childhood as the closest of friends through thick and thin, I'm sure we can go further as lovers as well".

Shotaro giggles hearing his own words being quoted to him. "Then let's go for it". He agrees, turning back to look at you. "I believe we can do it if we try. So...be mine?" He gazes at you, eyes glimmering with hope.

You smile wider than ever, so wide that you could probably eat a whole banana sideways in one bite. "I'd love to," you respond.

His eyes adorably form crescent moons again. "May I…?"

You already know what he wants. "Yes, you may".

With that, his hand travels to the back of your head, and he pulls you in for a sweet kiss as a spectacular display of fireworks makes its way onto the star-studded night sky, marking the start of a new year, which would mean new responsibilities for the both of you. But none of you held fear in your hearts, only pure love for each other, because for you and Shotaro, you knew you'd have each other as the fireworks also marked a new chapter of your journey together, this time as something more than friends.

»»————-----------------------　♡　-----------------------————-««

if you made it all the way here, thank you so much! i hope you enjoyed it, have a nice day :D

tagging: @bangchan-fairy @moonsclover

[starlitheaven]

𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨’𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠♡

♡ Brief headcanons on what he likes, how he feels about your tastes (I chose YA because it’s a genre that’s seen as childish or immature. I wanted to show that he isn’t a judgmental person), and how he’d enjoy it with you!

edit: I got carried away once again wow good thing this man isn’t real. I'd lose my mind

He personally enjoys philosophy, classic literature, nen theory, non-fiction, and mythology. He’ll literally read anything though. This guy doesn’t judge books by their cover. 

Due to his childhood in a harsh place like Meteor City, he appreciates being able to retain any knowledge or type of book. 

Surprisingly, the only thing he’s picky about is manga. (I think it’s canon that he reads manga, I just can’t remember where I read it lmao). Manga involves commitment, and he won’t pursue this unless it’s worth it!!

Now, when it comes to you, most of your first date would be discussing your book preferences. 

Even though this man has refined taste and is clearly well read, he won’t judge what types of books you like to read. 

You have many favorite genres in common, but some stick out to him.

YA novels? He’d ask you what makes this genre specific to young adults and how it’d compare to “adult” books. 

It’d kind of throw you off to be asked something like that, because it seems obvious to you. Yet you’ve read this genre since you were, well, a young adult. How to explain it?

He often tends to have this small teasing smirk that’s intimidating yet playful enough to lure you in. So you think he’s joking, but…

You look up from your contemplation and he’s looking at you with his eyebrows slightly raised, head tilted like a puppy, and eyes wide with curiosity. 

You explain to him how the topics aren’t usually heavy and if they are they’re subtle enough to sell while being understood to those who soak it in. The main character is also often going through some sort of change that is personal but specific to adolescents. Then, there’s almost always romance, but it’s a slow build and never graphic which is what you appreciate. 

At this, that small teasing smirk would appear on Chrollo’s face, “So no plastic covered gas station books for you? Those are quite graphic.” 

It doesn’t occur to you until later how he would even know that. 

In an established relationship, he’d enjoy reading to you and having you read to him. You both love hearing the others voice read poetry. IMAGINE this mans soft and deep voice reading to you omfg

Let me just paint a picture here:

Your wanderer of a lover has come back to you (early in the relationship you wouldn’t know where he goes, later in the relationship you know it’s a “job”). He doesn’t stay for very long, so you enjoy your time with him.

You’re having a picnic by the lake in a secluded part of Central Park in Yorknew, and sitting on a soft gingham blanket. The sun is setting, an orange halfway dip into the horizon. You’ve both finished your passionfruit panna cotta (you got him an extra one which he appreciated), and now Chrollo is sitting against a large oak tree with your head resting on his lap. 

You’re comfortably full and gazing up at him as the incoming dusk paints him in a warm light. The soft breeze and his calloused fingers delicately brushing your bangs away from your face soothes you into closing your eyes. 

His fingers softly trail from your forehead down to your cheekbones and end at your jaw. They instinctively curl to cradle your face and his thumb draws slow circles over the bottom of your cheek. He lingers like that for a moment, and before you can feel self conscious about it, he lets go and you hear him pick up a book of poetry. 

He only reads one poem to you that day and its transparency makes your heart swell:

𝘐 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳. 𝘚𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘐 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘴. 𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘮𝘦, 𝘥𝘢𝘸𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘳𝘶𝘱𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘦, 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘐 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘴.

𝘐 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘴𝘵, 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘴, 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥.

𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘯 𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴,

𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘺, 𝘴𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘶𝘮𝘢 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘘𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘦.

Love Sonnet XI - Pablo Neruda