#she was the whole world and my whole heart

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Mine, Always

Fandom: Women’s Basketball (WNBA) | UConn Women’s Basketball

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader, Paige Bueckers x !daughter (Lex)

Tags: Fluff, Found Family, Bio!Single Parent Reader, Adoption, Protective Paige, Deadbeat Parent Drama, Soft Domestic Moments, WNBA Life, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Depth

Summary: mama P, she’s always been mama…

🏷️: @yailtsv , @starfulani , @nooooheheheheh , @sitawita , @azziswrld

I remember the first time Paige met Alexa—my little girl, my whole world. She was six at the time, still rocking mismatched socks and an obsession with dinosaurs. I was just starting to let someone new into our lives, and Lex was always my priority. But Paige? She didn’t force herself into our little world. She let Lex warm up to her, let her be the one to decide when Paige could stay.

And once she did, there was no looking back.

Paige became her safe space. From movie nights to helping with school projects, from standing in the crowd at Lex’s soccer games to carrying her up to bed when she fell asleep on the couch—she was there. She never overstepped, never tried to replace what was never there to begin with.

By the time we got married last year, I knew what was coming next.

Lex wanted Paige to be her mama.

I sat across from Lex at our dining table one evening, watching her nervously pick at the edges of her notebook while I helped her with homework. Paige was out at practice, and the house felt quiet.

“Mom?” Lex asked, looking up at me with those big brown eyes that always made me melt.

“Yeah, baby?”

She hesitated, chewing her lip before she let out a sigh, like she had the weight of the world on her tiny shoulders. “I wanna ask Paige something. But I don’t know how.”

I leaned forward, resting my chin in my palm. “Well, that depends. What’s the question?”

She fiddled with the corner of her page before finally whispering, “I want her to be my mama. For real.”

My chest squeezed. I had a feeling this was coming, but hearing it out loud? It was enough to bring tears to my eyes.

I reached over, tucking her braids behind her ear. “Lex… she is your mama.”

“But, like, legally,” she clarified, her voice small but determined. “I wanna have her last name, too. Like you.”

That was it. I was done for.

I pulled her into a hug, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “She’s gonna be so happy, baby. You know how much she loves you, right?”

She nodded against my chest. “Yeah.”

I smiled. “Then just ask her. When she gets home.”

⸻

That night, Paige had barely stepped through the door, gym bag slung over her shoulder, when Lex practically ran into her.

“Whoa—what’s up, kid?” Paige laughed, steadying herself as Lex grabbed her hand.

“I have a question!” Lex announced, determined, dragging her to the couch. I followed behind, heart already full knowing what was about to happen.

Paige tossed me a playful, questioning look before sitting down. “Alright, hit me.”

Lex took a deep breath, looking Paige dead in the eye. “Can you adopt me?”

Silence.

Paige’s eyes widened, her lips parting in shock. For the first time since I’d met her, she was speechless. Her gaze flickered to me for a second, as if checking to see if this was real.

“It’s okay if you don’t wanna,” Lex added quickly, but I could see the hope in her eyes.

Paige snapped out of it. “Are you kidding?” She pulled Lex into her lap, cradling her face. “Lex, kiddo, I’d love to. More than anything.”

Lex’s smile was blinding, and I could already see the tears forming in Paige’s eyes. “Really?”

“Really,” Paige whispered, pressing her forehead to Lex’s. “I’m already your mama, but I’d be honored to make it official.”

I watched them with my heart bursting, knowing that in that moment, we were truly a family in every way that mattered.

⸻

Fast forward to now, a year later, and Lex was officially Alexa (Your Last Name)-Bueckers. The paperwork was done, the name change finalized, and she couldn’t stop beaming when she saw it printed on her new school ID.

Everything was perfect—until Lex’s biological father, the one who had never been there, decided to crawl out of whatever hole he’d been in for the past decade.

And it all started with Paige’s radio interview.

Paige had just finished practice when she called me. “Babe,” she started, a little breathless, “I might’ve said something on the radio that’ll make headlines.”

I sighed, setting my phone between my ear and shoulder as I stirred dinner. “What’d you do now, Bueckers?”

“Well, the host asked about Lex,” she admitted. “And I kinda… called her my daughter. Like, really emphasized it.”

My stirring stopped. “Okay?”

Paige huffed. “I mean, I meant it, obviously. But I think it’s gonna be everywhere.”

I smiled. “Good. Let people know.”

That was the thing about Paige. She never saw Lex as anything less than hers. Not a stepdaughter, not just my kid—her kid.

The interview clip spread fast. In it, the host asked Paige what it was like being a WNBA player and a parent.

Paige, without missing a beat, said, “It’s the best thing in my life. I know she’s not biologically mine, but that doesn’t mean anything. Lex is my daughter. No paperwork or last name change will ever mean as much as what I already know in my heart—she’s mine.”

It was beautiful. It was perfect.

And it must’ve pissed off Lex’s deadbeat father, because suddenly, he was trying to be relevant again.

⸻

He messaged me the next day.

“So I just heard my daughter got adopted. Funny how no one told me.”

I stared at my phone, a bitter laugh escaping. Now he cared?

I typed back.

“She’s not your daughter. You didn’t even sign her birth certificate.”

He shot back.

“That doesn’t mean anything. You had no right.”

That was all it took. I went into my files and pulled up every receipt—missed child support payments, medical bills I paid alone, birthdays he skipped, the list went on.

I sent it all in one long, damning message.

“You haven’t been in her life for a single second. You don’t get to be mad now just because a real parent stepped up where you never did. If you cared, you would’ve acted like it years ago.”

He left me on read.

Exactly.

⸻

When I told Paige about it that night, she scoffed. “He doesn’t have a leg to stand on.”

I sighed, rubbing my temples. “I know, but I just hate that he’s even trying.”

Paige pulled me onto the couch, wrapping an arm around me. “He can try all he wants. It doesn’t change a thing.”

Lex popped her head into the room. “What doesn’t change a thing?”

Paige patted the seat between us, and Lex climbed up, curling into her side.

Paige kissed the top of her head. “That you’re my daughter. No matter what.”

Lex smiled, tucking into Paige’s shoulder. “I know that.”

I exchanged a look with Paige, and in that moment, I knew we’d won.

Not in a petty way—this was never about proving anything to a man who was never there.

It was about us.

Our family.

And nothing, no amount of bitterness or late attempts at relevance, could ever change that.

She was ours. Always.

---

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                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[sashayed]

watched GHOST (1990) last night and boy it is not a good movie but some people in it look so great i think they had to stop making people like that. tony goldwyn serving the kind of aristocratic Luciferian twink beauty that would make thomas mann's corpse wake up, climb out of his grave and slap himself so hard he dies again.

whoopi goldberg iconic for a reason. she is doing all the work normies do with their eyebrows with her eyeBAGS.

the ginger rogers of eyebrow acting: upside down and hairless. a trailblazer. in this post-Substance world it feels on the nose to talk about how beautiful young demi moore is (not-young demi moore, duh, also so beautiful) but golly. if you have a weakness for girls who look like the cartoon mouse waitress at the cartoon mouse sexy jazz bar (👋) Watch Out.

i'll tell you one thing about 1990, they'd be like "a very sexy thing for a beautiful woman to wear on a glamorous date? is a brocade vest."

and i think that was very brave and innovative of them. anyway you know who else has a great face? rick aviles who plays the absolutely thankless role of willy lopez.

a SUPERB face that we didn't get to see enough bc he died at 43 of AIDS-related heart failure. fucked up. apparently he was a very gifted comedian! oh also vincent schiavelli The Subway Ghost

wonderful face!! i'm not mentioning patrick swayze bc i think i have a whole post in me about his Trembling Masculine Vulnerability as a movie star and i don't want to blow my load about it. verdict: pretty bad movie. four stars

[tonysbed]

You belong with me | MV1

Max Verstappen x bestfriend!reader

Summary: Max ruins any date you go onto, claiming it was either a coincidence or the guy was shit..

warnings: idiots to lovers, swearing, crying, bit of a misunderstanding (reader is an overthinker like all of us)

main masterlist

-

You don’t know when it started, but you do know that it’s starting to piss you off.

Because at this point, it’s not even subtle anymore.

Every single date you go on? Ruined.

Not in an obvious, throw-a-drink-in-your-face kind of way—no, that would be too easy. Instead, it’s always conveniently timed interruptions, coincidental run-ins, or your date suddenly deciding he’s not that into you after one too many glares from across the room.

And the common denominator?

Max fucking Verstappen.

Your best friend—who, apparently, has made it his life’s mission to sabotage every attempt you make at having a love life.

Tonight is no different.

You had a good feeling about this one. He was nice, funny, normal—a rare find in your world. Dinner had been going well, conversation flowing, and you had even allowed yourself to relax, to think that maybe, just maybe, this time would be different.

And then, of course—

“Oh, wow. Crazy running into you here.”

You swear to God, you almost stab him with your fork.

Max stands at the edge of your table, hands in his pockets, looking like he didn’t just walk into this restaurant with the sole intention of ruining your night.

Your date glances between the two of you, oblivious. “Oh, you guys know each other?”

You grit your teeth. “Unfortunately.”

Max grins. “She loves me, really.”

Your date laughs. Laughs. Like this is all just some funny coincidence.

You know better.

Max strikes up a conversation with him, effortlessly steering things in a direction that makes the guy start to feel out of place, like he doesn’t belong in your world. By the time the check arrives, he’s already making some excuse about an early morning, giving you an apologetic smile before heading out.

And just like that, another one bites the dust.

You stay seated, arms crossed, as Max slides into the now-vacant seat across from you. “You’re a menace.”

He steals a fry off your plate. “He was boring.”

You groan. “Oh my God. That’s not for you to decide, Max!”

He shrugs. “Just looking out for you.”

“No, you’re being a controlling asshole.”

His brows furrow slightly. “It’s not like that.”

You exhale sharply, pushing your plate away. “Then what is it like, Max? Because I can’t keep doing this. Every time I start to like someone, you show up and ruin it.”

He doesn’t say anything, which only makes the frustration boil over.

“Is it fun for you? Do you get some kind of thrill out of watching me end up alone?”

Max flinches, like you actually hit him. “Jesus, that’s not—” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?” you snap.

His jaw clenches. His hands curl into fists on the table. His whole body is wound tight, like he’s holding something back.

And then—

“They’re not me.”

The words hang between you, heavy and unmovable.

You blink, heart stuttering. “What?”

Max exhales, looking almost… defeated. “They’re not me. And you deserve—” He stops, shaking his head. “You deserve someone who already knows all your little quirks. Someone who doesn’t need to ‘get to know you’ because he’s already been there through everything.”

You swallow, pulse hammering. “Max—”

“You deserve someone who gets that you overthink everything, who already knows exactly how to talk you down from it. Someone who doesn’t get tired of your rants about the smallest things, who actually likes listening to you talk, even when it’s about shit he doesn’t understand.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “You deserve someone who would never fucking leave, no matter how much you push him away. Someone who—” He looks away, voice quieter. “Someone who already loves you.”

Your heart is pounding.

The weight of his words crashes over you all at once, knocking the breath from your lungs. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

Max watches you, eyes guarded, like he’s bracing for impact.

And suddenly, it all clicks.

The ruined dates. The coincidences. The way he’s always there, standing between you and anyone who so much as tries to get close.

It was never about them.

It was always about you.

And, more importantly—

It was always about him.

Your throat tightens. “You… you never said anything.”

He huffs out a breath, shaking his head. “And what would I have said? That I’ve been in love with my best friend since before I even knew what the fuck that meant?”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “Max…”

He rubs a hand over his face. “Just forget it, okay? It’s fine. I just—”

You don’t let him finish.

Instead, you grab his face in your hands and kiss him.

Max stills for half a second, like he can’t quite believe it’s happening. Then—he melts into you, hands finding your waist, pulling you in like he’s been waiting for this forever.

And maybe he has.

And maybe, so have you.

When you finally pull away, he looks at you, eyes searching. “So… you’re not going to kill me?”

You let out a watery laugh. “Oh, I definitely am. Just—later.”

Max grins. “I can work with that.”

-

bsf!reader is the best 🧚

[classfiedyapper]

Lads scenario: VENGFUL MC. (Self aware!au)

Okay y'all hear me the fuck out and let me know if there is a fic like this siwjeje, unorganized rambling alert!!!!!!!!

Ii got this idea while writing a fic on self aware au. (Not on this idea tho)

So like sure sureee the guys getting self aware is great, personal fave. But what if MC becomes self aware. And she comes to realize the reality of her situation and she hates it, being forced to speak do and love. All against her wishes. She comes to learn of the cycle she comes to learn of the curse and she comes to learn of the fact how her whole being is being teared away, he heart blood and soul everything is being hunted by the greedy world and FOR WHAT???.

For YOUR entertainment, putting her through uncomfortable situation and forced proximity just so you could get a false sense of comfort in some pixelated men (she knows her truth she just hate it still) she hates you so much, THATS RIGHT SHE DOESNT HATE TJE GAME SHE HATES THE PLAYER.

like when she listens to you swoon over the guys or make them take pics in uncomfortable positions, or you keep changing her appearance like fuck it she doesn't even k kW what she looks like.

And the breaking points comes when you start whining.

"Oh mc has hurt them, they suffer because she keeps forgetting" and she like bitch hello I wasn't even real and nor were they?

Or when you go like.

"Oh she has it all she is so lucky I wish I was her I was in the game living her life smh I am so jealous" and oh.

Ohhhhhh she looses it.

Thats when she is like oh you want my life then come and fucking get it.

AND boom you end up in the game.

[ice-man-goes-bwoah]

Running hot||werewolf!Jenson button x vet!reader

Summary —Veterinarian Y/N is used to helping animals in need, but when a massive, heat-exhausted wolf collapses in her yard, she doesn’t hesitate to help the animal.

Word count—1039

A/n- thank you @andtheytoldustotellyouhello for the idea and @sinofwriting for indulging my werewolf fic writing addiction!

Also should I do a part two?

The wolf collapsed at the edge of the treeline, panting so hard its whole body trembled. Y/N spotted him from the porch, a massive creature with a coat matted in dirt and sweat, sides heaving like a bellows. She’d seen plenty of overheated animals in her time as a vet, but never a wolf this big. And definitely not one that had stumbled into her yard like it was begging for help.

Swearing under her breath, she grabbed her med kit and ran.

The humid summer air pressed heavy against her skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat rolling off the wolf’s body when she knelt beside it. Its eyes flickered open—sharp, golden. Unnatural. But she shoved the thought aside, focusing instead on the way its tongue lolled, dry and cracked. Dehydration. Severe heat exhaustion. If she didn’t act fast, it wouldn’t make it.

“You’re lucky I found you,” she muttered, uncapping a bottle of cool water.

The wolf’s ears twitched. It wasn’t fully unconscious, but it didn’t resist as she carefully poured water along its muzzle, letting it lap at the droplets. Then she shifted her focus to checking for injuries. No obvious wounds, no gunshot marks. Just sheer exhaustion. As if it had been running for miles, pushing past the point of survival.

“What the hell happened to you?” she murmured.

The wolf’s breathing slowed. It was still too hot, though—dangerously so. Y/N needed to get it out of the sun. With no other choice, she slipped her arms under its middle, grunting at the sheer size of it. Too big for a normal wolf. Too heavy. But she dragged it toward the shade of her porch, ignoring the voice in her head screaming that something wasn’t right.

She stayed by its side for hours, cooling its body with damp cloths, forcing small sips of water down its throat. The sun dipped low. The wolf twitched in its restless sleep, muscles rippling under its thick fur.

And then it happened.

One second, she was adjusting the cloth on its forehead. The next—

A man.

A full-grown, human man lay where the wolf had been, sprawled in the grass, sweat-slicked and feverish.

Y/N jolted back, heart slamming into her ribs. Her breath hitched in her throat, unable to form a single rational thought.

The man groaned. His skin was as hot as the wolf’s had been, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. Dark hair stuck to his forehead, jaw tight with some lingering pain.

No clothes. No explanation.

Just impossible.

Y/N scrambled backward, her mind screaming at her to run, to grab her phone, to do something. But then the man’s eyes flickered open—blue , unlike the wolf’s.

And in that moment, she knew.

She wasn’t dealing with something natural.

She was dealing with something else.

Something dangerous.

And she had just saved its life.

Y/N’s breath came fast and shallow. The world had tilted sideways, reality cracking at the edges.

The wolf—the man—shifted slightly, his brow creasing. He was still weak, still burning up. If she wanted answers, now was the time.

Her hands curled into fists to stop them from shaking. “What the hell are you?”

No response. Just the slow drag of his breath.

Y/N swallowed hard, forcing herself closer. Rationally, she should have been running, but instinct held her there. She had spent years training to heal animals, to stabilize them when they were helpless. Right now, whatever he was—whoever he was—he was still her patient.

She grabbed a fresh cloth, dipping it into the bowl of cool water before pressing it to his forehead. His skin twitched under her touch, like even that small sensation was too much.

Then his hand shot up, gripping her wrist.

Y/N yelped, nearly jerking back, but his hold was weak, barely more than a touch. His fingers were long, rough with callouses. Definitely not some wild, feral creature.

His eyes cracked open, sharp gold slicing through the dimming light.

“Where…?” His voice was hoarse, barely more than a rasp.

“You’re at my home,” Y/N lied on instinct. She wasn’t about to tell a stranger—a shapeshifter—that she lived alone in the middle of nowhere. “You passed out from heat exhaustion.”

His gaze flickered, darting to the empty space around them. No clinic. No sterile walls. Just her porch, her house, the trees swaying in the fading light.

His grip tightened just slightly. “You—” He swallowed dryly, his throat working. “You helped me.”

Y/N exhaled sharply. “Yeah, well, don’t thank me yet. I still don’t know what I just saved.”

He blinked at her. Something shifted in his expression, something tired, but not surprised. Like he’d had this conversation before. Like he already knew she wouldn’t believe the truth.

“Jenson,” he murmured. “My name is Jenson.”

Y/N hesitated. Not what she’d asked, but still… a name was something.

She pulled her wrist free and grabbed the water bottle she’d used earlier. “Drink.”

Jenson’s fingers curled around the plastic, but his hands were shaking too hard to hold it steady. Y/N huffed and guided it to his lips herself.

The moment the water hit his tongue, he groaned, tilting his head back as he swallowed. Y/N tried not to focus on the sound, on the way exhaustion made him pliant, too human for something that shouldn’t be possible.

She pulled the bottle away before he could choke on it. “You need to cool down. If I had an IV, I’d—” She stopped herself. “Never mind. Just rest.”

Jenson exhaled slowly, head tilting toward her. His eyes dragged over her face like he was committing it to memory.

“…You should be afraid.”

Y/N stiffened. “I am afraid.”

He gave the smallest, ghost of a smirk. “You don’t look it.”

“Yeah, well, I’m good at hiding it.”

Jenson let out a soft, strained breath that might have been a laugh. Then his eyes slipped shut again, his body sinking back into the grass.

Y/N sat there, watching him, pulse still pounding.

Whatever Jenson was, he wasn’t just some lost, exhausted shifter. He was running from something.

And she had a feeling it would come looking.

[elixirfromthestars]

So...originally I told myself I would treat myself to this chapter once I finished writing something...but I had a draining day at work and could use the comfort of our beloved Hangout, so now here I am 🥰

More under the cut ᯓᡣ𐭩

Liz, you already know where I’m going to start: THE WOODEN HORSE. First my heart ached reading the ptsd symptoms Scout is going through and then you hit me square in the chest with the hand carved gift. 😭🩷 The thought of Jake sitting there and whittling away at a piece of wood, carving it into a horse thinking about Scout the entire time will forever now be my roman empire. 💗 Even though I gave myself the sneak peak earlier in the week, I still sobbed reading that part again. 🤧💕 He's so smitten and I love him so much 🥹🩷🩷 He’s so soft for her and I live for that!! 🥹💖

I adore hand made gifts like they're just so thoughtful and full of meaning and ahhhhhhh!! 💗💗 And the fact that it brings her so much comfort while she deals with the trauma 🥺🥺

I have a little question though 👀 did you imagine Jake carving the horse for Scout right after the incident at the saloon or was this something he had been working on for her for awhile? 🫶🏼

The wooden horse had quickly found a home on your bedside table where you would pluck it from its perch during the late night hours, holding it to you tightly before drifting back into a comfortable sleep only to repeat the same cycle the following night.

^ I shall call him Whiskey Jr and he shall be mine 😌💖💖

The subtle coolness in the air that had been present a month ago finally gave way to a full blown chill, and you soon found yourself planting winter vegetables.

^ wait...its been a whole month?? 🫢 now where in the world did the Dagger Gang go and what are they doing?? 👀

He looked at you with a gentle expression, causing heat to rise to your cheeks. His baby blue eyes moving to closing as he began to lean into you oh so slowly. You wished they were green.

^ Levi, Levi, Levi, you do not stand a chance, bud 🙂‍↔️ sorry not sorry!! 🤷🏻‍♀️

He had then introduced the new teacher, who appeared to be a shy little thing before the reverend had dismissed everyone for the day. This was of course after word had spread that the Dagger Gang was back in town.

^ Yay for the new teacher in town and yay for the Dagger Gang's return!! ✨ I’m just hoping they didn’t get into any trouble while they were away 😅

This was news to you. You were shocked at the wave of disappointment that rolled over you. They had gotten in last night? Why were you just hearing about it?

^ Aw, she was hoping Jake would come by, wasn’t she? 🥹

You had just made it to the stalls of the market when you felt eyes on you. A couple of girls walking by stared past you, and they giggled before you heard him speak. “Mornin’, Scout,” Jake drawled.

^ Good morning, handsome 🥰

You couldn’t stop the words that left your mouth. “Not enough to come and see me when you got back yesterday, apparently.” Jake leaned his head back with a booming laugh, causing your cheeks to heat up. His laughter died down into a low chortle as he looked at you with twinkling eyes. “Is that why you’re being so cold to me, pretty girl? Y’mad that I didn’t come and see you?”

^ Oh, I just know he’s absolutely loving the fact that she’s upset over that 🤭💗 I can see that shit eating grin clear as day!! 😂🩷

He leaned down so that his mouth hovered over your ear. “I got something for you.” You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, and he let out another chuckle, turning you slowly to face him. He reached into the pocket of his pants when you were fully facing him, pulling out a long, golden chain. Attached at the end was a large, cut emerald surrounded by a halo of tiny diamonds that sparkled in the late morning sunlight.

^ He got her a necklace 👀 That’s so sweet 🥺 And I love the way it matches his eye color so she’ll always have a little part of him with her 💚✨

“How did you afford this?” you breathed, voice so soft even to your own ears. “I have my ways.”

^ Oh no...I don't like the sound of that… 😦

“I bought it, if you must know,” he sniffed, looking more than a little put out at your sudden shift in tone. “With money you earned?” “Oh, I earned it,” he smirked ruefully. You scoffed at that. “You shouldn’t lie, Jake,” you said pointedly. “It’s a filthy, disgusting habit.” “What does it matter?” he frowned. You narrowed your eyes up at him. “It matters,” you seethed, “because I only accept gifts from men who earn their money in a respectable way.”

^ I have mixed feelings here ☹️ I don’t want to believe Jake just went up and stole it, but he is an outlaw so… ☹️ And as far as we know right now, Jake doesn’t have a job, so the most likely conclusion is that he used stolen money to buy it 😕 And I understand why Scout would be uncomfortable accepting such a gift, I mean I would be too! I just hope such an expensive gift didn’t come from a place where Jake felt pressured to get her a fancy necklace because of what she might be used to before she came to the west 🥺 Because while yes jewelry is pretty and people usually love being gifted some, I have a feeling Scout treasures the carved wooden horse more 🥺🩷

You both turned to see Levi watching you two with an uncertain expression on his face. He walked over to the two of you, and he placed an arm around your shoulder. Jake stiffened at the action, eyes blazing and lips set in a tight line. “Is everything okay?” Levi asked. You flashed him with a quick smile. “Yes,” you reassured him, turning back to glare at Jake who still had his eyes locked onto Levi, scanning him up and down with a look of utter distaste.

^ Levi, buddy…you best get your hands off of Scout before Jake teaches you a little something about why they call him Hangman 🫢

“That’s cute,” you smiled softly. “I hope one day someone will feel that way about me.” “What on earth are you talkin’ about, darlin’?” she chuckled incredilously, stopping her movements to stare at you. “You’ve got that Seresin boy wrapped around your little finger.” “Hardly,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. Penny shook her head and pointed an accusatory finger at you. “You may not see it, Scout, but everyone in town knows it. That boy would eat his boots if you asked him to.”

^ Scout that man would do anything for you. Tell him to jump he’ll ask you how far? 😌 Tell him to climb, he’ll ask you how high? 😌 Say the word and that man would move heaven and earth to get you anything 😌 It’s always hard to see that stuff ourselves, but the devotion that man has for you is evident and he’s not even officially yours yet!! I can’t wait to see what he does once he is!! 🥰❤️

“I didn’t accept it,” you said plainly, earning a look. “He bought it with stolen money, Penny. How could I accept it? I can’t. I won’t.” Penny watched you thoughtfully for a moment. “What is it you want from him?” You stared at the wooden top of the bar, chewing your bottom lip thoughtfully. “I want him to make an effort to do things the right way.”

^ I get what she means 😕 I doubt Scout wants Jake to be wealthy or anything like that, she just wants to make sure he’s making his money the honest way and I agree!! Being the partner of an outlaw who gets into a lot of trouble sounds like too much to handle. I mean Cyclone mentioned hangings once and I still have anxiety over it. 😭 And then with unsavory characters like Isaac entering Scout’s life because of Jake…I would also be hesitant to be with someone who does things that would invite (albeit involuntarily & more so through consequences) such people into their life. I understand it comes from a place of survival, but I hope Jake can find somewhere to make his money the right way 🥺

You had only made it three buildings down before realizing that footsteps sounded behind you, following you. The hair on the back of your neck stood on edge as a wave of terror washed over you. You quickened your pace, and tried not to panic as the footsteps behind you matched your pace.

^ NOT AGAIN. LEAVE MY GIRL ALONE, PLEASE!! 😭

“Then you better make this believable,” he said. Your brow furrowed in confusion. Jake reached down to grip the back of your legs, hoisting you up and pinning you againt the wall. You let out a startled gasp as he wrapped your legs around your waist, and you clutched at his shoulders. Jake gave you one final look before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours.

^ AHHHHHHHH THEY FINALLY KISSED!!! GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET LIKE CRAZY 🤭💗🤭💗🤭💗

The smut was written in beautiful detail and If I were to pinpoint every single moment that made me either a) giddy with my heart racing b) giggily and kicking my kick c) blushing and smiling like a fool d) all of the above we'd be here all day, so instead I will pick highlights and attach my very accurate reactions:

“You’re so tight, baby,” he moaned hotly into your ear, pressing gentle kisses to your cheek that served as a stark contrast to the way he moved his fingers inside of you. Your cheeks grew hot as you heard the squelch that sounded every time he pumped into you. “Do you hear that, pretty girl? You’re pussy is so gready, sweet thing. She keeps sucking me back in like she doesn’t want me to leave.”

“Feels good, doesn’t it, baby? Feels good to just lean back and let me take care o’ you lke this. Nobody is ever going to make you feel like the way you do right now. Only I can make you feel this good.”

He crooked his fingers in a “come hither” motion that had you gushing around the invading appendages. He smiled. “There she is.” “Tell me who this sweet, little cunt belongs to,” he demanded. You clenched around him at his words, a strangled moan slipping past his lips at how tight you felt. “You,” you cried, more tears streaming down your cheeks, begging desperately for your release as you stared into his green eyes. “Again,” he ground out, feeling you squeeze him impossibly tighter as you neared your end. “Let this whole town know who you belong to.”

I have been absolutely ended by Jake, you can find me in a puddle on the floor 🫠💗💗💗 I need a moment to breathe and calm my heart because that was ahhhhhhh!!! 🤭💞💞💞 Liz!!! You write in amazing detail and your dialogue is so so good!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼 Everything feels so real and so right as I read and I am just in awe of you as a writer!! 🥹❤️❤️

He slowly opened his eyes to look at you, dropping his fingers back to his side. His gaze was affectionate as he leaned forward to nuzzle your nose with his. “Just as I thought.” You looked up at him in confusion. A smirk played on his lips. “Sweet as honey.”

^ STOP IT SIR YOU ARE A MENACE (affectionally) 🙈💕

You turned to him with a confused frown as he looked affectionately down at you, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear. He leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, so quick you weren’t sure he had even done it. He let go of your wrist and took one step down off the porch. “Goodnight, Scout.”

^ Not him acting all sweet after what he just did 💀 The duality of this man is going to be the death of me 🫠💗

“Just know I blame you for this.” “Benjamin, are you going to tell me what this is about or-” You were cut off as the men stopped their hammering to look at the two of you as you approached. Each one greeted you, but your eyes were glued to the newcomer. An easy grin hung on his lips and mirthful, green eyes stared at you as you gaped. “Hey there, honey girl.”

^ JAKE IS WORKING THERE NOW?? 🫣💖 NO WAY!! 🤭💕Oh, the things that are potentially going to happen with them being around each other more often, ahhhhh I’m so excited!! 🥹💞 (But also what a rascal calling her honey girl after last night’s events 🙈😂🩷)

What more can I say about this chapter?? 🥹🩷 I feel like I have bombarded you with many of my thoughts already 😂🩷 I’m so giddy that these two have crossed that line into deeper feelings and I can’t wait to see how their dynamic and relationship evolves as they interact more now that Jake will be working at the ranch 🤭💕

Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Five

Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Five

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin is a notorious leader within the Dagger Gang of the old western territories of the United States. You, a recently orphaned socialite from the eastern seaboard, find yourself swept off to live with your older brother who has set down roots in said western territory. Determined to to make the best of your situation, what will you do when said outlaw sets his sights on you?

Warnings: Swearing, Reader being angsty, Jake Seresin (flirting, jealous), Fingering, Dirty talk

Word Count: 4,766 (oops)

A/N: I am so overwhelmed by the amount of love you all showed Chapter Four! It was beyond anything I could have every imagined!! Side note, I also love how many of you come into my inbox and leave me asks either praising the stories, or just talk about them (*hint, hint*)! I'm honestly shocked you all aren't sick of me and these stories yet with how much I talk about them. Thank you all. As always, reboots, comments and likes are greatly appreciated!! 18+ ONLY!! Find me on AO3 under arcane_vagabond!

Series Masterlist || DGU Masterlist

A month ago, you didn’t jump every time a door opened to loudly in the other room. A month ago, you didn’t bolt up in bed in the middle of the night with the phantom stench of cheap liquor and stale tobacco. A month ago, you didn’t dream about grabbing hands and cold, black eyes that stared at you with the intention to possess. A month ago, the sight of the little, hand-carved horse didn’t fill you with an instant sense of comfort and warmth.

You had found it sitting on the railing by the steps of the porch the morning after the incident at the saloon. You had walked out the front door to do the morning chores, Benjamin having already tripped out the door with a promise thrown over his shoulder to come check on you in the later morning after his meeting. It wasn’t a masterpiece by any means, but it was clear that someone had spent a lot of time whittling it down before deeming it presentable. You had walked over to it slowly, taking it in your hands gently. Whoever had carved it had made sure to add in extra details. You could see the curve of the horse’s eyes and the strands of its mane that flowed down its back. Every detail had been painstakingly carved as if the crafter had wanted it to be perfect. Your breath caught in your throat and your heart swelled when you saw the final detail on the underside of the horse’s belly.

J.S.

The wooden horse had quickly found a home on your bedside table where you would pluck it from its perch during the late night hours, holding it to you tightly before drifting back into a comfortable sleep only to repeat the same cycle the following night.

The cattle had arrived shortly after the departure of the Dagger Gang from town, and both you and Benjamin found yourselves scrambling to hire workers to help with the overwhelming workload.

“I’ll put the word out, don’t you worry,” Maverick had smiled over dinner one night. Two days later, three young, new faces had made themselves comfortable in the small cabin behind the house.

“Isaac is a mean sonofabitch,” Penny had told you once she heard about what happened in her saloon. “But I wouldn’t worry too much about him for the time being, especially now that Pete and Tom know he’s in the area. He’ll lie low for a little while to try and wait’em out.”

Her words left you with little comfort, but you slowly stopped casting worried glances over your shoulder every couple of seconds every time you left the confines of your home. An easy routine had settled on your ranch. Get up, get ready for the day, feed the goats and chickens, tend to your garden, make supper for the ranch hands and Benjamin, work on mending the various articles of clothing that were handed to you, go to bed, repeat.

The subtle coolness in the air that had been present a month ago finally gave way to a full blown chill, and you soon found yourself planting winter vegetables.

“How are you today, miss?”

You looked up to see one of the ranch hands, Levi, smiling down at you from where he leaned over the fence. He was a handsome man, maybe only a year or two older than you. Brown hair draped across the golden skin of his forehead and baby blue eyes twinkled at you.

“I’m doing just fine,” you smiled at him. “And I’ve told you a hundred times now to call me Scout, Levi.”

He chuckled, grinning at you. “Of course, Scout.”

He walked around the length of the fence and through the gate to drop down beside you where your hands were digging up the cold earth.

“Anything I can help you with?” he offered, chucking the dead plants beside you into the bucket behind you.

“No, I think I’m just about done here,” you hummed, wiping your hands on your soiled apron, smiling at the handsome man. “But, I could use some help bringing things back from the market, if you don’t mind helping?”

“Of course,” Levi grinned, offering you a hand as you moved to stand. You took it, and he pulled you up gently, pulling you into him slightly. The two of you stood in silence as he stared down at you. He looked at you with a gentle expression, causing heat to rise to your cheeks.His baby blue eyes moving to closing as he began to lean into you oh so slowly. You wished they were green.

The thought alone snapped you from your daze, and you pulled away from Levi with a clear of your throat. Resting a hand on his chest, you refused to meet his gaze, eyes darting around the yard nervously. “I should go clean up.”

“Right,” he breathed, nodding slowly. “I’ll be here.”

You gave him a brief smile before pushing past him and into the house. Minutes later you were walking out the front door towards Levi, basket in hand. He offered you a smile which you returned shyly before the two of you made your way into town. There was a distinct lack of children running around, which you were grateful for. Maverick had announced to the congregation after the church service the previous morning that the first day of school would be held in the sanctuary the next morning. He had then introduced the new teacher, who appeared to be a shy little thing before the reverend had dismissed everyone for the day. This was of course after word had spread that the Dagger Gang was back in town. You had overheard two of the girls in the pews ahead of you giggling about the different men.

“Did you hear?” giggled a red head to her friend excitedly. “The Dagger Gang is back in town!”

That had caught your attention.

“Really?” the blonde had squealed, earning several disapproving looks from the older members of the congregation. The two girls paid them no mind. “When did they arrive?”

“Just last night!”

This was news to you. You were shocked at the wave of disappointment that rolled over you. They had gotten in last night? Why were you just hearing about it? You were shaken from your thoughts when the red head continued.

“Oh, that Jake is so handsome!”

That had caused you to let out a rather unladylike snort, drawing the attention of the girl who sat a few rows ahead of you. You rolled your eyes at the other two to your left. The blond man was very handsome, but if only they knew his true nature.

“He is,” the blonde nodded with a wistful sigh. “But that Bradley isn’t so bad on the eyes either. It’s been horrible going this long without seeing all those handsome men walking around town.”

Your thoughts soured at the reminder as you fought to keep your face neutral. You weren’t even sure why you cared so much. It wasn’t like you even liked the man. He was cocky, brash, pig-headed, thoughtful, brave-

You shook your head. You would not go down that road. Mercifully, the reverend had started the service moments later and you were given a reprieve from the ridiculous thoughts that insisted on taking up residence inside your head. Jake hadn’t come to see you that day, and now here you were; standing in the market and well into the next day.

You greeted Hondo where he stood behind the counter as usual.

“Mornin’, Scout!” he grinned at you. “What can I help you with today?”

“Was just coming to see if Joel was back with any sugar.”

Hondo gave you an apologetic grimace. “‘Fraid not, honey. He should be back any day now though, so you keep comin’ by and checkin’.”

“That’s alright,” you smiled. You turned to look at Levi. “Why don’t you go on down to the feed store and purchase some hay for the horses? I’ll finish up here and meet you at the stalls by the saloon.”

“Alright,” he smiled, giving you a lingering look before turning and walking out the door. You chatted with Hondo for a couple of minutes as he filled a container with salt and packed different preserves into your basket. You waved to him with a promise to check back in the following day before stepping outside. You had just made it to the stalls of the market when you felt eyes on you. A couple of girls walking by stared past you, and they giggled before you heard him speak.

“Mornin’, Scout,” Jake drawled. You turned to see him leaning up against the side of the butcher’s shop, arms crossed in front of his chest and a cocky smirk hanging from his lips. Green eyes studied you as you stared.

“Jake,”you greeted cooly, mouth pressing into a firm line. Jake’s smirk turned into a grin as he pushed off the wall, taking slow, deliberate steps towards you.

“Missed you, pretty girl,” he hummed, reaching up to dance his fingertips across your cheek.

You couldn’t stop the words that left your mouth. “Not enough to come and see me when you got back yesterday, apparently.”

Jake leaned his head back with a booming laugh, causing your cheeks to heat up. His laughter died down into a low chortle as he looked at you with twinkling eyes. “Is that why you’re being so cold to me, pretty girl? Y’mad that I didn’t come and see you?”

“Hardly,” you snapped, glaring up at him. His smile didn’t falter.

“I’m sorry, darlin’,” he chuckled, “had I known you’d be this upset, I would have come to see you first thing.”

You ignored him, turning to walk towards the stalls. He wasn’t far behind you, and when you stopped in front of a stall to inspect the apples, he pressed up against you from behind. He leaned down so that his mouth hovered over your ear. “I got something for you.”

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, and he let out another chuckle, turning you slowly to face him. He reached into the pocket of his pants when you were fully facing him, pulling out a long, golden chain. Attached at the end was a large, cut emerald surrounded by a halo of tiny diamonds that sparkled in the late morning sunlight. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at it, recognizing it from the jeweler’s shop just down the road. It cost a fortune, and many women around town had taken turns to stand in front of the shop windows to admire it.

“You like it?” he smirked, holding it up for you to see it closer. You nodded slowly, eyes wide.

Your hand moving on its own to reach up and stroke over the precious gem.

“Thought of you when I saw it, pretty girl,” he hummed, leaning in so that his breath fanned over your face. “Thought the green would help you remember me when I’m not here.”

“How did you afford this?” you breathed, voice so soft even to your own ears.

“I have my ways.”

Your eyes snapped up to his at that. Frowning, you took a half step back to put some distance between the two of you.

“You mean you bought it with stolen money,” you accused. “Or did you just force Mr. Benson to give it to you free of charge?”

“I bought it, if you must know,” he sniffed, looking more than a little put out at your sudden shift in tone.

“With money you earned?”

“Oh, I earned it,” he smirked ruefully.

You scoffed at that.

“You shouldn’t lie, Jake,” you said pointedly. “It’s a filthy, disgusting habit.”

“What does it matter?” he frowned. You narrowed your eyes up at him.

“It matters,” you seethed, “because I only accept gifts from men who earn their money in a respectable way.”

Before Jake could reply, you heard someone call your name.

“Scout?”

You both turned to see Levi watching you two with an uncertain expression on his face. He walked over to the two of you, and he placed an arm around your shoulder. Jake stiffened at the action, eyes blazing and lips set in a tight line.

“Is everything okay?” Levi asked. You flashed him with a quick smile.

“Yes,” you reassured him, turning back to glare at Jake who still had his eyes locked onto Levi, scanning him up and down with a look of utter distaste. “We should get going. I forgot to grab the goat’s milk for Penny and we need to get the cart to pick up the hay.”

Levi nodded, looking uncertainly between you and Jake. You turned and began to walk through the crowd without a glance back at blond behind you.

Levi and one of the other ranch hands, Phillip, had dropped you off in front of the saloon with the promise that you would meet them by the bank before sunset. That had been a couple of hours ago, and you had fallen into an easy conversation with the older woman.

“She’s a timid, little thing,” Penny said as men began to make their way into the saloon. “I’ve never seen Bradley so sweet on anyone before. Calls her Birdie and everything.”

“That’s cute,” you smiled softly. “I hope one day someone will feel that way about me.”

“What on earth are you talkin’ about, darlin’?” she chuckled incredilously, stopping her movements to stare at you. “You’ve got that Seresin boy wrapped around your little finger.”

“Hardly,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes.

Penny shook her head and pointed an accusatory finger at you. “You may not see it, Scout, but everyone in town knows it. That boy would eat his boots if you asked him to.”

“I doubt that,” you frowned. “You know he tried to give me a necklace today?”

The older woman perked up at that. “He did?”

You nodded, humming at the memory. “You know that emerald pendant that’s been sitting in Mr. Benson’s window for forever and a day? It was that one.”

“Well where is it?” she asked curiously, eyes darting down to see the empty space by your collarbone.

“I didn’t accept it,” you said plainly, earning a look. “He bought it with stolen money, Penny. How could I accept it? I can’t. I won’t.”

Penny watched you thoughtfully for a moment. “What is it you want from him?”

You stared at the wooden top of the bar, chewing your bottom lip thoughtfully. “I want him to make an effort to do things the right way.”

“Alright,” Penny conceded, a knowing smile on her face. She turned to pull out some bottles from behind the bar, and stopped when her eyes caught sight of one of the windows. “Weren’t you supposed to meet your ranch hands at sunset?”

You turned to see what she was looking at and let out a low curse. It was clear that the sun had set ages ago, inky darkness resting against the windowpanes as lamp light filtered out.

“If you go now, they might still be waiting for you outside,” she said as you scrambled to your feet. You cast her one last smile over your shoulder before waving her goodbye. Practically sprinting out of the packed saloon, your warm cheeks were kissed by the cold, night air. Your breath came out in puffs as your eyes swept the street for any sign of the men you had come into town with. The streets were empty save for the few men who stood outside the saloon. Sighing, you figured they must have thought you had already gone home without them. You cursed again and began to make your way down the street. You had only made it three buildings down before realizing that footsteps sounded behind you, following you. The hair on the back of your neck stood on edge as a wave of terror washed over you. You quickened your pace, and tried not to panic as the footsteps behind you matched your pace. Your heart began to hammer as you heard more footsteps join in with the first.

You rounded the corner a few paces ahead of the group behnd you. You let out a yelp as a hand grabbed you from the shadows of an allyway, pulling you into a strong chest. You struggled as the man pushed you up against the wall, hand still covering your mouth.

“Hey, hey. Scout, it’s me.”

You opened your eyes, struggling to focus on the stranger in front of you as you adjusted to the darkness. Jake stood in front of you, eyes filled with worry as he watched you relax. The both of you stiffened when you heard a man shout from the front of the building, and Jake turned his head to look.

“She went this way!”

Jake looked back at you, seeming to weigh his options. He removed his hand from your mouth. “Do you trust me?”

“What?” you asked breathlessly.

“Do you trust me?”

You heard the shouts of the men grow closer as you studied the man in front of you. Slowly, you nodded.

“Then you better make this believable,” he said. Your brow furrowed in confusion. Jake reached down to grip the back of your legs, hoisting you up and pinning you againt the wall. You let out a startled gasp as he wrapped your legs around your waist, and you clutched at his shoulders. Jake gave you one final look before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours.

You weren’t sure what you had been expecting, but his lips were surprisingly soft against yours. Jake’s lips moved against yours slowly, urging you to respond. Slowly, unsurely, you began to move your lips against his and he let out a desperate sounding moan. His hands clutched your hips in a vice as he moved his knee in between your legs, slotting it against you. You let out a gasp at the action, and Jake took full advantage, slipping his tongue into your mouth. His tongue caressed yours gently as his right hand slid up the length of your body to rest under your left breast. Your hands moved on their own to tangle in the strands of hair that rested at the base of his neck, tugging lightly. Jake rewarded you with a strangled groan and a press of his knee into your core. You cried out at the action, feeling Jake grin against your mouth as he nipped on your bottom lip.

“Any sign of her?”

You moved to pull away and look at where the voice came from, but Jake’s hand moved up pull you back into him before returning to its spot on your chest.

“No,” came a voice at the enterance to the ally. “Just a randy couple back here.”

You heard him walk away, and the hammering of your heart in your chest was due only in part to the small fraction of relief at his exit. Jake licked into your mouth like a man starved, delving deeper with each pass of his tongue against yours. You felt your hips rock against his knee, and you let out a desperate keen when he pulled his lips away from you. He kissed from the corner of your mouth and down the expanse of your neck. Finding a spot below your ear that made you give out a particularly loud noise, he smiled against you before honing in. He left little nips to the spot, soothing the sting with his tongue before sucking a bruise into your skin.

“Jake,” you cried out, the pleasure clouding your mind. Jake pulled back to look at you, eyes blazing and darkened with lust. He studied you for a brief moment before a salacious grin broke out across his kiss swollen lips. His right hand moved to grab your breast, squeezing gently at the same time he ground his knee into your core. You let out a quiet wail, arching into his touch, desperate to have his lips back on you. He complied with a chuckle, leaning back in to bury his face into your neck. His left hand still sat on your hip, and he used it to help grind you against him. He left hot, open-mouthed kisses as he made his way from the base of your neck and up to your ear.

“I should take you over my knee, you know,” he ground out hotly, nipping at your earlobe. “Walking around here at night with no one to accompany you. Lucky for you I happened to be walking along.”

You let out a choked gasp as he removed his right hand from your chest, sliding it down and under your skirts. With expertise, he bunched the offending material at your waist before reaching his hand into your drawers. Your head hit the wall when you felt his finger press against your entrance.

“So wet for me already, sweeheart, and I’ve barely even touched you,” he murmured into your ear. “Nobody has ever touched you like this, have they, angel?”

You shook your head, too far gone to answer and certainly too far gone to care about the consequences. He pressed a finger into you, your mind going blank at the sudden intrusion. His finger felt so big inside of you, and you let out another choked gasp at the slight burn as he stretched you.

“I know, sweet girl,” he cooed into your ear, slowly adding a second finger and thrusting up into you. “Let me make you feel good, darlin’.”

Your cries grew higher pitched as he slowly began to pick up the pace of his hand, palm brushing the little bundle of nerves that had you seeing stars.

“You’re so tight, baby,” he moaned hotly into your ear, pressing gentle kisses to your cheek that served as a stark contrast to the way he moved his fingers inside of you. Your cheeks grew hot as you heard the squelch that sounded every time he pumped into you. “Do you hear that, pretty girl? You’re pussy is so gready, sweet thing. She keeps sucking me back in like she doesn’t want me to leave.”

He licked a strip up from the base of your neck back up to your jaw before giving the skin there a gentle nip.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, baby? Feels good to just lean back and let me take care o’ you lke this. Nobody is ever going to make you feel like the way you do right now. Only I can make you feel this good.”

“Jakey,” you whined, reaching down to draw him into a kiss. He moaned into your mouth, pulling back to stare at you hotly.

“Say it again,” he whispered against your lips, fingers moving faster as he chased your high. You felt an unfamiliar pressure begin to build in your lower stomach as you ground down onto his hand.

“Jake,” you gasped, but he shook his head, fixing you with a stern look. You felt the hot sting of tears kiss at your eyes, crying out when he slowed his movements down to a crawl. His eyes bore into you, and you tried desperately to move your hips against him, but his hand had you pinned. He tsked up at you with a borderline sneer at your pitiful attempts to get yourself off.

“Try again, sweet girl.”

“Jakey, please,” you cried, feeling a tear escape and roll down your cheek. Jake hushed you, once again resuming the pace of his thrusts. You clutched at him desperately, nails digging into the exposed skin of his chest. Jake let out a soft hiss and slipped a third finger into you, causing a loud cry to spill out past your lips. He crooked his fingers in a “come hither” motion that had you gushing around the invading appendages. He smiled. “There she is.”

“Tell me who this sweet, little cunt belongs to,” he demanded. You clenched around him at his words, a strangled moan slipping past his lips at how tight you felt.

“You,” you cried, more tears streaming down your cheeks, begging desperately for your release as you stared into his green eyes.

“What’s my name, sweetheart?” He demanded, focusing his fingers on that one spot inside you that had you crying out and clutching at him every time. “C’mon, sweet girl. What’s my name?”

“Jakey!” you cried wantonly, burying your face into his neck. His groans became breathless and constant as you began to press sweet, chaste kisses to the spot between his neck and shoulder.

“Again,” he ground out, feeling you squeeze him impossibly tighter as you neared your end. “Let this whole town know who you belong to.”

“Jakey!” you wailed at the top of your lungs. Your gaze flashed white as you came hard around him, biting into the juncture of his shoulder. You felt your release gush out past his fingers as he continued thrusting, riding out your high.

“That’s it, sweet girl,” he hummed into your ear, pressing soft kisses to your cheek as you calmed down. “I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

As your breathing returned to normal, Jake slowly pulled his fingers out of you, causing you to hiss at how empty you suddenly felt. Jake chuckled, holding your gaze as he brought his fingers up this lips. He sucked on them with a hum as he closed his eyes, savoring the taste of you. You choked out a breath at the sight, the fire inside of you returning with a vengeance at the sight.

He slowly opened his eyes to look at you, dropping his fingers back to his side. His gaze was affectionate as he leaned forward to nuzzle your nose with his. “Just as I thought.”

You looked up at him in confusion. A smirk played on his lips.

“Sweet as honey.”

Jake made sure your skirt was on correctly before pulling you by the hand out of the allyway. He walked you quickly to your front door, stopping you with a grab of your wrist before you went inside. You turned to him with a confused frown as he looked affectionately down at you, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear. He leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, so quick you weren’t sure he had even done it. He let go of your wrist and took one step down off the porch.

“Goodnight, Scout.”

“Goodnight, Jake.”

The next morning your brother greeted you with a scowl, chastising you for getting home so late.

“What were you even doing, Scout?” he griped. You felt the blood rush to your cheeks and you refused to look at him.

“I just lost track of the time while talking with Penny,” you answered him, quickly clearing the plates from the table. Benjamin’s scowl grew deeper at your answer.

“That was stupid,” he snapped, earning a glare from you. “You need to be more careful. Who knows what could have happe-”

“Benji, it’s fine,” you cut him off with a huff. Placing your hands on your hips, you watched him as he moved to put his work boots on to go outside. “I know last night isn’t what has you in such a foul mood, so what is it? What happened?”

He didn’t say anything as you followed him towards towards the back door.

“Benji?”

“We hired on a new ranch hand,” he said evenly, this tone worrying you more than the previous one. “Was real insistent he get a job here too.”

“Alright?” you questioned, following him down the steps and into the yard. You saw four figures hammering away at the fence posts down by the barn, and you took quick steps to keep up with your brother’s longer ones. “Do we not have enough to pay him?”

“Nothing like that,” Benjamin muttered, casting a quick glance your way before back at the figures ahead of you. “Just know I blame you for this.”

“Benjamin, are you going to tell me what this is about or-”

You were cut off as the men stopped their hammering to look at the two of you as you approached. Each one greeted you, but your eyes were glued to the newcomer. An easy grin hung on his lips and mirthful, green eyes stared at you as you gaped.

“Hey there, honey girl.”

[jincapableoflove]

the lunchbox delivery | drabble

A PART OF 'THE HOUSEHUSBAND DIARIES' DRABBLE SERIES

pairing: jungkook x (f.) reader

genre: househusband! jungkook, corporate office worker! reader, established relationship, flufff.

summary: jungkook, your soft yet badass househusband, goes on a city-wide mission—apron and all—to deliver the lunch you forgot in your morning rush.

word count: 2.1k+

warnings: flustered husband!jungkook, soft domestic moments, jungkook in a manbun (a warning in itself), office gossip, pda, shy but devoted husband, theyre so in love with each other.

inspired by: the way of the househusband (manga)

a/n: i have so many wips but i had to upload this 😭 i'm working hard on hoc and tggpp i promise. writing this reminded me of jungkook saying he'd make a great housewife while washing dishes in that one weverse live. 

the kitchen is bathed in soft golden light as the morning sun peeks through the curtains. it’s quiet, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator and the occasional rhythmic chop of a knife against the wooden cutting board. 

"when i see your face… there’s not a thing that i would change, ‘cause you’re amazing… just the way you are…"

jungkook sings along to just the way you are by bruno mars, his voice a little raspy from sleep but still effortlessly smooth. his lips curl into a small smile as he sways lightly on his feet, the melody slipping from his lips as he focuses on the task at hand.

your lunch.

he carefully scoops a mound of warm, fluffy rice into his hands, the heat seeping into his fingertips. with practiced ease, he shapes the grains, pressing and molding them until they take form—two perfect little bear faces, their tiny ears rounded just right. he sets them down gently into the bento box and tilts his head, inspecting them with a critical eye.

something’s missing.

jungkook reaches for a small sheet of gim, the dark seaweed paper crisp under his fingertips. with a tiny pair of scissors, he delicately cuts out little circles for the eyes, a small curve for the mouth. he sticks them onto the rice bears with chopsticks, making sure they align perfectly.

he grins in satisfaction before moving on to the rest of the bento. rolled eggs sit neatly beside the rice bears, their golden layers stacked just right. a handful of heart-shaped strawberries adds a pop of color, followed by small sausage octopuses lined up like tiny soldiers. the finishing touch, a few neatly arranged kimbap rolls, sliced precisely. 

he carefully closes the sanrio-themed lunchbox, running his fingers over the pastel blue lid where cinnamoroll smiles back at him. he knows how much you love this lunchbox you picked out, giggling over how cute it was in the store.

jungkook double-checks everything, making sure it’s perfectly packed before setting it on the dining table. he even places a pair of your favorite chopsticks next to it, feeling proud of his work.

"when you smile… the whole world stops and stares for a while…"

bam watches from his spot near the couch, his head tilted in curiosity.

"you think she’ll like it, bamie?" jungkook asks, ruffling the dog’s ears. bam wags his tail once in response.

jungkook chuckles. "yeah, she better."

meanwhile, in your room, everything is quiet except for the soft hum of the ceiling fan mixing with the distant chirping of birds outside. the warmth of the blankets wraps around you, and the pillow beneath your head is impossibly comfortable.

suddenly, your phone alarm blares.

your eyes snap open. there’s a beat of silence and then there’s sheer panic.

"shit, shit, SHIT!"

you bolt upright so fast that the blanket tangles around your legs, nearly yanking you back down. your heart pounds as you grab your phone, squinting at the time.

7:45 am.

OH MY GOD.

your early morning meeting.

the realization crashes over you like a bucket of ice water.

you fling the covers off and practically hurl yourself out of bed, making a beeline for the bathroom. toothpaste, face wash, a half-hearted attempt to fix your hair, it’s all done in record time. you throw on your blazer, barely managing to shove your arms through the sleeves as you stumble back into the bedroom.

jungkook, still in his apron over his pajama pants and a loose white t-shirt, leans against the doorframe, watching you with a frown. "you okay, baby?" he asks, his voice thick with confusion. 

"no," you groan, hopping on one foot as you struggle to put on your shoe. "i forgot i have an early meeting today—i’m so late!"

jungkook opens his mouth to remind you that you still have fifteen minutes but you’re already dashing past him.

you snatch up your bag from the couch, nearly knocking over the cushions in the process. your blazer is half-buttoned, your hair is still slightly damp from your rushed washing, and you’re 90% sure you forgot to put on perfume.

jungkook barely gets a chance to say good morning before you spin around, eyes wild, and grab his face between your hands.

his lips part in surprise just as you press a quick, rushed kiss to his mouth.

"i love you—BYE!" you say in a single breath, already turning toward the door.

jungkook blinks. "wait, baby, did you—"

but you’re gone.

the door slams behind you, the sound echoing through the apartment.

for a moment, there’s silence. then, with a small sigh, jungkook resumes his everyday tasks, putting on gloves before turning to the sink. once the last plate is set on the drying rack, he moves on to the laundry, gathering the neatly folded clothes into a basket. 

woof!

bam, lying on his stomach near the couch, lifts his head and barks toward the dining table. his ears twitch, and his gaze flicks toward jungkook as if expecting him to do something. 

jungkook follows his dog’s line of sight.

and there it is.

your cinnamoroll lunchbox, still sitting exactly where he left it. untouched. forgotten.

for a moment, he just stares at it, blinking in disbelief.

then, panic sets in.

"oh, shit."

without wasting another second, jungkook moves. he grabs the lunchbox with one hand and snatches his helmet with the other, practically sprinting toward the door. 

within seconds, he’s outside, straddling his harley davidson, the engine roaring to life beneath him. the wind tugs at the loose strands of his tiny man-bun as he pulls his helmet on, securing it hastily before gripping the handlebars.

the city blurs past in streaks of neon and morning sunlight as jungkook speeds through the streets, the deep rumble of his harley davidson cutting through the early rush hour buzz. he leans into the curves with practiced ease, the sharp black of his leather gloves gripping the handlebars as he weaves between cars. the wind tugs at the loose strands of his hair, his tiny man-bun slightly coming undone beneath the helmet. he looks every bit the part of a street racer, dangerous and intense.

except.

there’s a pink apron still tied snugly around his waist.

and strapped to his back? a cinnamoroll lunchbox filled with rice bears and heart-shaped eggs, all carefully prepared for his wife.

the contrast is almost ridiculous but jungkook doesn’t care. his only mission right now is getting this lunch to you before your day gets too hectic and before you end up skipping your lunch due to your deadlines.

a few pedestrians stop to stare as he flies past, some doing double takes at the sight of a broad-shouldered, tattooed man speeding through the city with a pastel-colored lunchbox clutched under his arm. at a red light, an older woman on the sidewalk squints at him, eyes flitting from his dangerous-looking bike to the cute apron still tied neatly around him.

jungkook pretends not to notice.

but when the guy in the car next to him rolls down his window, giving him a once-over and raising an eyebrow, jungkook lets out a slow sigh before muttering under his breath,

"it’s for my wife, bro."

jungkook strides into the lobby of your corporate office, the heavy glass doors sliding open as he steps inside. the sleek modern interior, polished marble floors and employees in crisp suits moving with purpose make him stick out like a sore thumb.

not because he’s out of place.

but because he looks like the world’s softest yet baddest househusband all at once.

the contrast is undeniable. his back boots echo against the floor, tattoos peeking from under the sleeves of his t-shirt, his posture confident. but then there’s the pink apron still tied snugly around his waist, its soft fabric a stark contrast to his sharp jawline and leather gloves stuffed in his pocket. in his hand, a cinnamoroll lunchbox, clutched almost too carefully as if the very fate of the world depends on its safe delivery.

the receptionist, bright-eyed and clearly entertained, has to stifle a giggle the moment she looks up.

jungkook notices.

his grip tightens slightly around the lunchbox as his ears start burning, a telltale shade of pink crawling up his neck. he clears his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and raises a hand to awkwardly push back the loose strands of his man-bun.

“uh—” he clears his throat again. “i—i’m here for my wife.”

the receptionist blinks, amused. “your wife?”

jungkook nods, shifting uncomfortably. “yeah. y/n, she, uh… forgot her lunch.” he holds up the lunchbox like it’s exhibit a. “can you, um… call her?”

the receptionist definitely giggles this time, eyes flicking between jungkook’s sharp features and the adorable lunchbox in his hands. she doesn’t even bother to hide her amusement when she picks up the phone.

"of course, sir. one moment."

jungkook exhales slowly, standing there, trying so hard not to fidget. his fingers twitch against the strap of the lunchbox, his gaze flicking around the office, avoiding eye contact with passing employees who definitely noticed him.

he swears this is the longest minute of his life.

the moment your receptionist notified you, you practically sprint to the lobby, your heels clicking sharply against the floor as you weave through your coworkers.

jungkook stands near the reception desk, looking utterly adorable despite the fact that he should look completely out of place. his man-bun is slightly messy from the wind, a few strands escaping to frame his face. his fitted shirt clings to his frame just right, tattoos peeking from the sleeve. but then there’s the apron, still snugly tied around his waist, the soft fabric completely at odds with the harley davidson keychain dangling from his fingers.

and in his other hand? your cinnamoroll lunchbox.

your heart melts on the spot.

"jungkook," you breathe, slowing down as you approach him. his big, round eyes lift to meet yours, relief flickering across his face the second he sees you.

"you forgot this," he murmurs, holding out the lunchbox like it’s the most important thing in the world.

something about the way he says it makes your chest ache with warmth. without thinking, you grab the lunchbox and then, before he can react—

you kiss him.

right there.

in front of everyone.

jungkook stiffens instantly, his brain short-circuiting as your lips press against his. it’s quick but firm, filled with gratitude and affection, and when you pull away, his expression is priceless.

his ears are so red.

actually, scratch that—his entire face is red. his doe eyes blink rapidly, mouth opening and closing like he wants to say something but can’t.

a few feet away, the receptionist giggles. several coworkers definitely noticed. someone even lets out a low whistle, murmuring, “damn, wish my wife loved me like that.”

jungkook malfunctions.

“i—y-you—” he stammers, gripping the back of his neck. “y-you didn’t have to—uh—”

you grin up at him, amused by the way he’s physically incapable of forming a proper sentence. “i did have to.” you shake the lunchbox playfully. “you came all the way here just to bring me this. what kind of wife would i be if i didn’t thank you properly?”

jungkook sputters, still blushing furiously. “b-but—”

you kiss his cheek this time, just for good measure.

his soul leaves his body.

the moment jungkook steps out of the office, the gossip erupts.

“oh my god, that was adorable.” “who knew your husband was such a softie?” “damn, does he have a brother?” “i swear, that was straight out of a drama.”

you shake your head, grinning as you make your way back to your desk, ignoring the knowing looks and teasing winks from your coworkers. no matter how much they tease, you don’t care because honestly? you love how much they saw. you love that they know just how sweet your husband is.

as you sit down, you run your fingers over the lunchbox, warmth blooming in your chest. jungkook had woken up early just to make this for you, chased you down just to deliver it. it wasn’t just about the food, it was about him, the way he always thought of you, always made sure you were taken care of. 

at lunchtime, you carefully open the box, and the sight of the tiny bear-shaped rice makes your heart clench. he even arranged everything neatly, just how you liked it.

with a giddy sigh, you pick up your phone and type out a quick message.

you: you are the best husband in the world i love u sooo muchh 😭💖

a few seconds later, your phone buzzes.

kookie 🎀🐰 : damn right i am. you better eat all of it.

you roll your eyes, chuckling to yourself as you take your first bite, savoring the meal he made with so much care.

yeah. you were so lucky.

taglist open!! lmk ur thots <3

[satinprose]

The vampire Ellie thing changed my whole life I'm begging you ok my hands and knees for vampire Abby PLEASE

VAMPIRE!ABBY. CW ; DARK CONTENT. MENTIONS OF PANIC ATTACK AND BLOOD, KIDNAPPING. ( 18+, MDNI ) —  ۪  ׂ   ۪ ۶ৎ vampire!abby is worlds away from vampire!ellie—ellie is a loner, so to speak, who plays with her food, whereas abby is of a high rank within her coven. abby is over hundreds of years old and believes that she is too precious to stain her lips with a human's blood like some petty fledgling. think similarly to carlisle cullen, abby's father is a well respected surgeon. no staff in the hospital ever seem to question where all of the blood in the bank is disappearing to.

vampire!abby was never interested in finding her own prey. couldn't care less—watching members of her coven describe their attacks in grimacing detail had turned her off completely. she never understood it until she came across you. appearing by the hospital, on the outskirts of the forest, on a rainy day. you were shivering and soaked and begging for directions. she looked trustworthy, so you shared that you were only trying to see a family member who had been in an emergency.

abby didn't hesitate to share her umbrella with you, large hand comforting you with a shoulder rub. you hadn't sensed danger until you looked into her eyes. she was sure to haunt you forever. she isn't someone you can forget—her eyes icy blue, skin white as snow, hair light and silky. something felt so off. abby could feel it too; she didn't feel like herself anymore. she felt like she understood the others in her coven now.

she was struck with sadism, pulling you back in as you tried to run. your safety was right in front of you, the hospital just a few feet away. and you missed. unable to make it any further with her hands' grasp on your waist, your thrashing only met with firm resistance.

when you woke up next, your life had suffered a severe change. you were in her home. the basement was cold, not in temperature but in aura—there had clearly been an attempt made to make it seem homely, but it was lacking in heart. you were a human blood bag now. abby had you secured safely, and she would tell you none of her coven were going to find you, so you had nothing to worry about. she was the nice one. she wouldn’t be cruel to you like they are!

a friendly vampire, that’s all. just a friendly one who is obscenely stronger than you, with a chilling touch, and the longest, sharpest teeth. holding you captive to forever keep your delightful flavour.

🏷️ @absfemme @abbyslvrrr @cowgirlvi @valeisaslut @eriiwaii @s0phi3w4lt3n @ellieshothousewife @piercedome @therealhexstrap @jinxedbambi @heyimrye @rhian88 @g4ys0n

[ficsbylexi]

Kindly Calm Me Down — Blurb

Aitana Bonmatí x OFC

Shot warnings: crying, swearing

Author’s note: My first request, hope you enjoy it and I’m sorry it took me so long. I swear I wanted to make it longer. Vaguely inspired by Meghan Trainor’s song. Also I think there’s a sentence at the beginning that, grammatically, it only makes sense in my head? idk. I wrote most of this in the middle of a mental breakdown💀

Word count: 849

Summary: Losing against Levante affects Aitana more than expected, but nothing some cuddles and kisses and a warm dinner can’t fix

Mireia had not been able to attend the match. She wasn’t even in Barcelona until after it started.

Having been chosen between the five siblings by her dad to be the one to eventually inherit the company had her traveling between her hometown and where her heart lived now quite a few times a year. She wouldn’t trade it for anything though.

By the time Mireia arrived home from the airport, the match had ended, she had watched it on the way home on her phone.

“Fuck”.

Saying that her girlfriend was competitive would be the understatement of the century. Two times Ballon d’or winner, three times Champions League winner, World Cup winner and a very long etcetera corroborate just how hardworking Aitana Bonmatí is.

Mireia ran to the supermarket just under the apartment she shared with her girlfriend. She picked just about any and every snack she knew Tana liked, and ingredients to make something comforting for dinner. Something warm and filling. “Vegan meatballs and mashed potatoes could be nice”. She mumbled while checking the vegetables.

Mireia set the snacks on the coffee table and got started on dinner without even playing any music on her speaker.

The clinking of the keys behind the door gave away the footballer’s arrival. Mireia turned off the stove and wiped her hands on a towel before turning to the door just when Aitana opened it.

Aitana slammed the door behind her, letting out a long breath as she dropped her bag to the floor. The match against Levante had been a disaster—one of those nights where nothing worked, where the team felt disconnected, where she felt like she was dragging the whole damn squad by herself. It wasn’t just the loss. It was the frustration, the exhaustion, the weight of it all pressing down on her shoulders.

She blinked, confused for a moment, before stepping into the kitchen.

Mire was there, standing at the stove, her cherry red hair tied up messily, looking at her with her arms open, dinner halfway done behind her, and something in Aitana snapped.

The exhaustion. The frustration. The anger. The relief.

A strangled sound left her throat before she could stop it, and Mireia engulfed her in her arms.

Aitana didn’t answer. She just buried herself into Mire’s arms, pressing her face against her shoulder, shaking.

Mireia wasted no time. She picked Aitana up effortlessly, lifting her like she weighed nothing, and carried her to the couch. She sat down with Tana still curled up against her, wrapping her arms tightly around her, one hand stroking her back.

“Talk to me,” Mireia murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Tell me what’s going on in that brilliant head of yours.”

Aitana sniffled, her fingers clutching Mire’s hoodie. “It was awful,” she whispered. “We were all over the place. No structure. No fight. And he—” She let out a frustrated huff. “He doesn’t get us. He doesn’t understand how we play. How we work. He doesn’t rotate, not properly. His tactics, everything feels like it’s not right for us. And I—” She hesitated, voice cracking. “And I needed you.”

Mireia exhaled softly, tightening her hold. “I’m here, mi amor.”

“I know.” Aitana’s voice was small. “That’s why I’m crying.”

Mireia chuckled softly, rubbing circles on her back. “You never have to hold it in with me, okay? Whatever you feel, let it out. I’ve got you.”

“I know it wasn’t your fault, I know you had to be away. But I couldn’t help it, I needed you. I wanted you to hold me after the match ended. Right then and there, while Olga was hugging Alexia and Mapi was hugging Ingrid and Marta was hugging Caro. I know it’s not fair for me to ask you to be on every match and that you couldn’t have known we were gonna lose but I needed you and you weren’t there and I got angry at you for a moment and then at myself because I wasn’t being fair nor rational”.

The frustrated ramble only made Mireia tighten her hold around her girlfriend. “Amor, it’s okay. It’s normal that you felt like that. Everyone was getting some sort of comfort from their partner and I wasn’t there. You needed me there and I get it. You don’t have to be angry at yourself for feeling something completely normal.”

They sat like that for a while—Tana melting into Mire’s warmth, the weight of the night slowly slipping off her shoulders. Mireia kissed her forehead, then her cheek, then the corner of her lips, until Tana finally let out a small, tired giggle.

“There she is,” Mireia whispered, smiling against her skin. “There’s my girl.” Aitana’s stomach grumbled loudly, making her blush in embarrassment. “Dinner.” Mireia tucked a loose strand of hair behind Aitana’s ear. “You’re starving and I just have to make the sauce and the mashed potatoes”.

Aitana whined, pressing her face back into Mireia’s neck. “Just stay like this a little longer.”

“As long as you need, baby,” Mireia whispered. “As long as you need.”

[bruthaewwwww]

sharp shooter 4

A/N : Guys im getting kind of bored of this story please give me some inspo anything ill write it fast i swear.

-----

Azzi leaned against the railing of the park’s gazebo, her eyes trained on the horizon as the last rays of the setting sun cast a golden hue over everything. The evening was peaceful, and she could hear the distant laughter of children playing on the swings. It was a quiet moment, one she shared with Paige, who stood next to her, a little too close, but Azzi didn’t mind.

The two of them had been walking for a while, the world around them moving in its own rhythm, but they remained in their own little bubble, the connection between them growing stronger with each passing day. But, for all the comfort and ease they felt together, there was still one thing Azzi couldn’t shake.

Paige had suggested they “make it official”—out in the open, for everyone to see. But when Azzi thought about telling the world about their relationship, she felt a knot tighten in her stomach.

“What do you think?” Paige asked, her voice softer than usual. She turned toward Azzi, her eyes meeting hers with that familiar vulnerability.

Azzi glanced at Paige, a slight hesitation creeping into her chest. “You really want to tell people?”

Paige frowned, taking a step closer. “Well, yeah. I’m proud of what we have. I don’t want to hide it anymore.”

Azzi chewed on her bottom lip, uncertainty swirling in her mind. The idea of telling people made her nervous—what if things changed? What if the whole world suddenly had an opinion on their relationship? The thought of dealing with the outside world’s judgment felt overwhelming.

“I don’t know,” Azzi admitted, her voice quiet. “It feels... risky. We’ve been so comfortable just being us, you know? And I don’t want to mess that up.”

Paige’s eyes softened, and she reached out, her hand brushing against Azzi’s. “I get it. But it’s not about making it public for the sake of it. It’s just... I don’t want to keep looking over my shoulder, wondering if someone’s going to figure it out. I just want to be able to hold your hand without worrying that people are going to ask questions.”

Azzi squeezed Paige’s hand, her heart fluttering in her chest. She loved Paige’s honesty. Paige never hesitated to say what was on her mind, even if it was something difficult. But Azzi wasn’t sure she was ready for that kind of exposure yet. The thought of facing the judgment, the whispers, and the expectations of others felt like a lot.

“I know,” Azzi said slowly. “But what if we don’t need to tell anyone just yet? What if we keep this between us a little longer?”

Paige raised an eyebrow. “You mean, like... continue being a secret?”

Azzi winced at the word. “I don’t want to keep it a secret. I just don’t know if I’m ready for all the... questions. You know how people are. They’ll want to know everything. They’ll make assumptions.”

Paige sighed and leaned back against the railing next to Azzi, her gaze distant. “Yeah, I get that. But don’t you think it’s a little unfair? To both of us?”

Azzi looked at her, a twinge of guilt hitting her chest. “I’m not trying to hide from you, Paige. I promise. I just... I need more time. I’m not sure how to handle all the attention that might come with it.”

Paige turned to her, her expression soft but firm. “I’m not asking you to jump into anything. We don’t have to tell the whole world right now, but I just want us to be honest with the people close to us. We can ease into it, take it slow.”

Azzi met Paige’s gaze, searching her face for any sign of frustration. But there was only understanding there, a quiet patience that made Azzi’s chest tighten. Paige wasn’t asking for anything unreasonable; she just wanted to stop hiding.

“I just... I don’t want things to change, Paige,” Azzi confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want people to see us differently. To look at us and think we’re... different.”

Paige smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair out of Azzi’s face. “Azzi, we already are different. But in the best possible way. I don’t care about what other people think. I care about you. I care about us.”

Azzi’s heart beat faster as she looked at Paige, her hand still resting in hers. The sincerity in Paige’s voice made her want to believe that maybe, just maybe, they could navigate this on their own terms.

“I know,” Azzi said, her voice quiet but steady. “And I care about you too. I just need some time to get used to the idea. It’s not that I’m scared of being with you. I’m scared of what people will think of us.”

Paige leaned in, her forehead gently resting against Azzi’s. “I get that. We don’t have to rush it. We can take it slow, figure things out as we go.”

Azzi closed her eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of Paige’s touch wash over her. When she opened them again, she was met with the same calm, unwavering support that had made her fall for Paige in the first place. Paige wasn’t pushing her to make a decision right now—she was just there, accepting Azzi’s hesitation and giving her space.

“Okay,” Azzi said, a small smile forming on her lips. “But just... let’s not hide forever, alright? I’m not saying we need to tell the whole world. But I don’t want to keep it to ourselves for too long.”

Paige’s eyes lit up with relief, and she nodded, her smile wide and warm. “Deal. We’ll take it slow. One step at a time. Just... as long as we’re together, that’s all that matters.”

Azzi squeezed Paige’s hand again, feeling a new sense of calm settle over her. “Together.”

The rest of the walk home was quiet but comfortable, as if the weight of their conversation had lifted a little. Azzi still wasn’t sure when—or if—they would tell people about their relationship. But she knew one thing for sure: Paige was right. They didn’t have to rush it.

And for now, just being together, navigating this new chapter at their own pace, was enough.

As they reached Azzi’s apartment, they stood by the door, the air cool against their skin. Paige looked at her with a softness that made Azzi’s heart flutter again.

“So,” Paige said, her voice playful but a little nervous. “What do we do now? Do you want to keep this between us a little longer, or...?”

Azzi smiled, reaching for Paige’s hand. “Let’s just take it one day at a time.”

Paige leaned in, brushing her lips against Azzi’s cheek in a gentle, fleeting kiss. “One day at a time sounds perfect.”

***

Azzi’s heart was still racing as she stepped onto the field for practice, the familiar scent of grass and the hum of the team buzzing around her. Despite the thrill of being back out there, her mind was still occupied by her conversation with Paige last night. They hadn’t exactly made any huge decisions, but there was something unspoken between them now, a quiet understanding that felt like a promise.

She was trying her best to focus, to block out everything else, but it wasn’t easy. Every time she caught Paige’s gaze from across the field, her stomach fluttered. It felt like there was a secret between them—one they weren’t ready to share with the world. It wasn’t just about the physical connection, but the emotional one that felt so much stronger when they were alone. And for now, that’s how Azzi wanted to keep it.

As the team gathered for warm-ups, Azzi took her usual place at the edge of the group, trying to blend in. But as she looked around, she saw KK and Ice exchanging curious glances from the other side of the field.

"What's going on with you two?" KK asked, her tone casual, but Azzi could see the knowing glint in her eyes.

Azzi froze for a moment, her heart skipping a beat. Ice, who had been more observant than Azzi gave her credit for, tilted her head and raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on something. “You two have been a little... off lately,” Ice remarked, folding her arms as she took a few steps closer.

Paige, who had been tying her shoelaces, looked up and shot Azzi a quick, almost imperceptible look. Azzi’s stomach did a little flip at the unspoken communication between them. It was like they were trying to keep everything under wraps, but her friends were way too perceptive for that.

Azzi laughed nervously, shrugging it off. “What do you mean? We’re fine.”

KK raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “You guys are always glued to each other now, and don’t think we didn’t notice how you were both acting at the bar last night. You were practically attached at the hip.” She gave Azzi a teasing smile, but there was a subtle hint of suspicion in her tone.

Ice leaned in, her eyes narrowing as if trying to catch Azzi in a lie. “Seriously, you both act like there’s some... tension between you. Like, more than just being friends. Don’t tell me—”

Azzi quickly cut her off, her voice a little too defensive. “There’s nothing going on, okay? We’re just... close. That’s all.”

But KK wasn’t buying it. She crossed her arms and glanced over at Paige, who was now standing beside Azzi, her face an unreadable mask. KK’s eyes shifted back and forth between them. “You know, we’ve been around you two long enough to know when something’s going on behind the scenes. You can’t hide everything from us.”

Paige shifted uncomfortably, clearly not enjoying the scrutiny. She shot Azzi a quick glance, trying to gauge how much she was willing to reveal. Azzi felt a wave of panic rise in her chest. This was exactly what she had been trying to avoid—the suspicion, the questions, the attention.

“We’re not hiding anything,” Azzi said quickly, but the words sounded hollow even to her own ears.

Ice’s lips curled into a sly smile. “You sure about that? ‘Cause, you know, it’s pretty obvious when you start finishing each other’s sentences and look at each other like that.”

Azzi’s cheeks flushed, and she looked away. “We’re just friends, okay? Can we drop it?”

KK and Ice exchanged another glance, one that was equal parts amused and skeptical. KK raised her hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. But don’t think we haven’t noticed. We’ll leave you two to your ‘friendship.’” She gave them a wink before turning back to the rest of the team.

But Azzi could feel their eyes on her and Paige, a lingering weight in the air as the practice continued.

Later, as the team ran drills, Azzi couldn’t shake the feeling that KK and Ice weren’t buying it. Every glance they shared, every whispered conversation seemed to involve her and Paige. And Azzi hated that they could see through her so easily.

She glanced over at Paige, who was in the middle of a drill, her ponytail bouncing as she sprinted across the field. Azzi’s stomach did that familiar flip again, and she couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of protectiveness.

Paige caught Azzi’s eye and gave her a small, reassuring smile. The subtle curve of Paige’s lips made Azzi’s heart skip a beat. It was the same smile she’d given her last night when they’d talked about taking things slow, and it made Azzi feel like she wasn’t alone in this—whatever “this” was.

But when KK and Ice came into view again, their eyes sharp with curiosity, Azzi couldn’t help but feel like everything was about to unravel. How long could they keep pretending like nothing was happening? How long could they hide something so big, something that felt so real?

She was lost in thought when Paige jogged over to her, her hands on her hips as she caught her breath.

Azzi glanced at her, trying to shake off the nerves that had settled in her chest. “What is it with them?” she asked quietly, gesturing toward KK and Ice, who were standing on the sidelines, clearly watching the two of them.

Paige rolled her eyes. “They’re like hawks. It’s like they’ve got a radar for when something’s... off.” She gave Azzi a small, teasing grin. “But they’re not wrong, you know. We’ve been pretty obvious lately.”

Azzi looked over at the two of them, her stomach knotting. “I don’t want them to know, Paige. Not yet. It’s too soon.”

Paige sighed, stepping closer to Azzi. “I get it. But how much longer can we keep pretending like nothing’s going on? I think they’re already figuring it out.”

Azzi bit her lip, the weight of the decision pressing down on her. “I don’t know... I just... I don’t want everything to change. What if it makes everything weird?”

Paige nodded thoughtfully. “I get that. But we can’t hide forever. Eventually, people are going to start asking questions.”

Azzi exhaled slowly, frustration and nerves swirling inside her. “I just need a little more time. Okay?”

Paige smiled softly, a quiet understanding in her gaze. “Okay. We’ll take it slow. Together.”

[tenessee-walker]

Could we have some headcanons of reader and papa arthur with a toddler! pls I love u 🤲🤲

ofcccc!

father!arthur who absolutely melts the second his little girl, Madeline, calls him “Pa.” Like he could be in the middle of cleaning his guns or chopping wood, but the moment she toddles over with her tiny hands raised, he immediately scoops her up, pressing a big ol’ kiss to her forehead.

father!arthur who lets Madeline do whatever she wants to him. Like she’s got him wrapped around her little finger. She wants to braid his hair? Go ahead, sweetheart. She wants to put a lil’ flower crown on his hat? Of course, darlin’. She wants to paint his nails with the berry juice she found? Sure thing, Maddie. (He wears it proudly too.)

father!arthur who has no idea how to say no to her. You tell her she can’t have candy before dinner? She runs to Arthur with big, teary eyes, and suddenly he’s like, “Well now, Y/n, maybe jus’ one piece…” (HE’S TOO SOFT FOR HER.)

father!arthur who somehow gets roped into the most ridiculous games. You come back to the cabin and find him crawling around on all fours, Madeline on his back, giggling, “Faster, horsey!” And he’s just huffing, but still going, muttering, “Your ma’s gonna think I’ve lost my damn mind…”

father!arthur who gives the most dramatic bedtime stories ever. Like he sits beside her little bed, spinning some wild cowboy tale, using different voices for every character, waving his hands around for emphasis. Madeline is completely enthralled, clutching her stuffed rabbit like it’s the most exciting thing she’s ever heard.

father!arthur who pretends to be all grumpy when Madeline wakes him up at the crack of dawn but immediately softenswhen she climbs into bed with him. She’s all cuddly, curling up against his chest, mumbling, “Love you, Pa.” And Arthur just melts, holding her tight, murmuring, “Love you too, little lady.”

father!arthur who tries to teach Madeline how to fish but she keeps getting distracted by the frogs. He’s standing there, explaining how to hold the pole, when suddenly she gasps, drops everything, and runs after a frog. Arthur just sighs, hands on his hips, grumbling, “Well, guess we’re catchin’ frogs now.”

father!arthur who is her absolute hero. She gets scared of the dark? Arthur’s right there, lighting a lantern, checking under her bed like, “Ain’t no monsters in here, sugar. But if they try somethin’, they gotta go through me first.” (SHE TRUSTS HIM WITH HER WHOLE HEART.)

father!arthur who will fight a damn bear if it so much as looks at Madeline the wrong way. You two take her on a little nature walk, and the second Arthur spots so much as a rustling bush, he’s got his gun halfway drawn, narrowing his eyes like, “Ain’t nothin’ touchin’ my little girl.”

father!arthur who is the biggest, proudest sap when she does anything remotely impressive. She draws a wobbly little picture of a horse? Arthur’s holding it like it’s a priceless artifact, showing it to everyone like, “Look at this, look how talented she is, my girl’s a damn artist.”

father!arthur who acts all big and tough in front of the gang but the second Madeline comes running up to him, his entire demeanor shifts. He goes from grizzled outlaw to softest dad in the world in an instant, crouching down to pick her up like, “What’s up, darlin’?”

father!arthur who absolutely cries the first time Madeline calls him “her best friend.” You walk into the cabin and find him just sitting there, staring at the floor, looking emotional as hell. When you ask what’s wrong, he just sniffs, rubbing the back of his neck, mumbling, “Nothin’, just… she called me her best friend, Y/n.”

[mangooes]

Welcome Home Staryus!

(Name) stretched her arms, yawning as she walked down the grand staircase of the manor, guided by her husband's hand circled around her waist. It was their first wedding anniversary, and although she had a feeling Sylus had something planned, she didn’t expect to wake up to—

“...What in the world?”

She blinked.

Then, blinked again.

Then, she let out a tiny gasp as she clutched Sylus’s sleeve. “Sysy… is that—?”

Standing in the middle of their lavish living room, a fluffy Siberian Husky puppy wagged its tail excitedly, staring up at her with striking blue eyes.

ZOOM.

The Husky bolted straight toward her, tail wagging wildly.

“OH—” Before she could react, a bundle of soft fur launched itself onto her, knocking her onto the couch. She burst into laughter as warm, excited licks covered her face.

Behind her, Sylus leaned against the wall, arms crossed, smirking at the chaos he just unleashed.

“Happy anniversary, sweetie,” he drawled, the bouquet of datura flowers in his hands temporarily forgotten, watching with amusement as She tried to dodge the enthusiastic puppy kisses.

She let out an excited squeal. "You got us a dog?!?"

"Mmm," Sylus hummed, letting the puppy lick his jaw. "You always talked about wanting one, so I figured I’d get you something more lively than jewelry this time."

She gasped between giggles, pushing the fluffy menace off her slightly,

“Our new family member,” Sylus confirmed, a tug of smile on his lips, kneeling beside her and ruffling the Husky’s fur. The pup immediately tackled him next, nipping at his sleeves and growling playfully.

(Name)’s heart melted as she sat up, brushing back her messy curls. “He’s so adorable! What’s his name?”

Sylus gave her a knowing look. “I thought you’d want to name him, kitten.”

She paused, tapping her chin as the puppy licked her fingers. "Hmm… it has to be something special. Something meaningful."

Sylus tilted his head. "How about—"

"No, you don’t get to name him something dramatic, like 'Kitten number 2' or 'Mephisto number 2."

Sylus put a hand to his chest in mock offense. "Sweetie, I would never—"

She gave him a look.

He sighed. "...Fine, maybe I would."

She bit her lip, thinking for a moment before her eyes lit up.

“Staryus!” she exclaimed.

Sylus raised a brow. “Staryus?”

“Mhm! It almost sounded like y'know the starry night sky we always watch back when we were still dating—” she reached out, cupping Sylus’s cheek playfully, “—under the datura fields, it brings back alot of memories!"

She paused for a second before continuing.

"Andddd i wanted to make it ryhm! So that two of my most favourite person in this whole world has the same name."

Sylus chuckled, grabbing her wrist and kissing her palm. “Clever, aren’t you?”

“Always,” she teased before turning to their new puppy. “What do you think, Staryus?”

The Husky barked happily, as if approving his new name. Then, in the most dramatic fashion, he flopped onto Sylus’s lap, belly up, demanding pets.

She bounced in place, hands on her cheeks. "He’s so cute! Look at him! Look at his little face!" She reached out, and the puppy immediately wiggled into her arms, covering her face in enthusiastic kisses.

Sylus chuckled at how she completely melted, rubbing her cheek against the puppy’s fur.

"Ohhh, you’re just the cutest little thing, aren’t you? Yes, you are! Yes, you—hey!"

The pup suddenly grabbed the end of her sleeve and began tugging at it.

Sylus smirked. "Fitting. Seems like he takes after me."

"Hey! That’s a bad habit to inherit!" She whined, but she was still giggling as she tried to gently pry her sleeve away.

She snorted. “Looks like he’s already taking after you, acting like a spoiled prince.”

Sylus narrowed his eyes in an offense manner. “Excuse me?”

(Name) beamed and nuzzled the puppy—now officially named Staryus.

Sylus, meanwhile, pulled both his wife and their new furry companion into his arms, pressing a kiss to her temple.

She squeaked, trapped between her husband and a fluffy ball of fur. “Sylus! At least let me cuddle Staryus first before you get all possessive—”

“Hmm, no,” he murmured, nuzzling into her neck while Staryus now laying in between them happily wagged his tail.

“You’re mine first, sweetie, I'm the father of the pup so you should be giving me my well earned anniversary gift too.”

She smiled, melting into his embrace as Staryus yipped happily between them.

With her husband, their mischievous new pup, and the warmth of their little family, she knew this was the best anniversary gift ever.

HEYYY so another chapter, since i feel like sylus would have such a cute dynamic with a siberian husky (since huskies are dramatic <3) and hey i feel like adding a new addition to the fam (other than mephi and the twins ofc) would be amazing! Staryus is taken from "Stayrus" Sylus's myth name and dont forget the datura flowers haha-

[sunnylyly]

Bewitched ｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

Pairing: Scaramouche x Reader (fem)

Genre: social media au, modern au, kinda past friends to lovers

Summary: In the dazzling world of content creation, [name] and Scaramouche are two stars on parallel yet conflicting paths. She is Teyvat's beloved vlogger, known for her sincerity and warmth, while he reigns as the most influential streamer, a sharp-witted force impossible to ignore. Once childhood friends, now bitter rivals, their past remains a mystery—buried beneath a year of unspoken words and unresolved emotions!

"Bewitched" is a journey through love, betrayal, and self-destruction. It’s about falling for someone who was never supposed to matter again—and the painful, beautiful process of rediscovering what was lost.

Because even the strongest hearts can be bewitched.

Side ship: Slight mention of Navia x Chlorinde, Venti x Xiao, Lumine x Yoimiya (I think that's all but if it needs changes I'll update it)

Warnings: Angst (obviously) Mention of drinking alcohol, Swearing (Idk I'll update before every chapter)

Status: Ongoing

Author's note:

• Hi !! I didn't make an introduction but if y'all need one you can ask ! Just know for now that my name is Célénya!

• Also I'm French so I'm sorry if there's some grammatical errors and all...

• I already planned all of the chapter so it's normal if there's already all the name of them and 100 chapter..

• Also let me know if you want a playlist for each Song <3

• I don't really know what to say but there will be a sequel inspired by Epic the musical btw !

• Written chapter will be marked with a ✿⁠ (will add them there if the chapter added is written)

• And I hope it's to your liking, don't hesitate to give feedback!!

Profiles:

Delusional people ([name]'s friends)

Mentally unstable gang (scara's friends)

Dreamer*⁠.⁠✧

1- Let me be a dreamer 2- I can see the whole world from my own little cloud 3- you can't pin me down 4- Boys just make me cry 5- I'm giving up 6- I'm moving up into a cloud 7- No boys gonna be so smart as to try and pierce my porcelain heart 8- Some might call me mad 9- I fell right down the rabbit hole 10- And no boy's gonna kill the dreamer in me

Second best*⁠.⁠✧

11- I'll never forget how stupid in love I felt 12- I'll always regret how I couldn't tell 13- Left me behind 14- Kissed with somebody else in my mind 15- I loved you so much I settled for less 16- You were my everything 17- You swung me around in that midsummer dress 18- Held me in close as you thought of your past 19- But I'm still in love with this mess 20- I'm just your second best.

Haunted*⁠.⁠✧

21- One more kiss, wine stained lips 22- I don't want to go to sleep yet 23- Pale moonlight, misty eyes 24- I'll allow him to have him tonight 25- I hold on to every ounce of of sin 26- I know he don't love me quite like I love him 27- I swear at myself when he leaves at dawn 28- this will end, 'til he haunts me again 29- Rose perfume, low-lit room 30- And I hold on to every ounce of skin

Must be love*⁠.⁠✧

31- Time's moving so much later lately 32- It's like the world's playing a joke 33- Laughing at me for falling foolishly again 34- But something's different with you 35- Traffic on sunset doesn't phase me 36- that is until I touch you and I can't pretend 37- I lose myself again, I do 38- I'm all in, I'm fallin' 39- Can't get back up, can't think right, too tongue-tied 40- It must be love

While you were sleeping*⁠.⁠✧

41- I still can't believe that you noticed me an ocean away 42- The heavens would say it was meant to be 43- I'll never forget the first time I saw you then 44- Primrose at three, you had all of me 45- Without saying a word 46- I don't recognize myself 47- I'm dancing down street, smiling to strangers 48- Idiotic things 49- I trace it all back, three-thirty AM 50- That night something turned in me

Lovesick*⁠.⁠✧

51- Floorboards creaking in my home, deathly silence when alone 52- Oh, I wish that you were here now 53- So unlike me, somehow I fell in love in just 3 nights 54- Those November days still haunting me 55- When the gold ray fell on your skin and my hair got caught in the winds 56- The choir sang a melancholic hymn 57- In the morning you would be gone 58- I'd be mourning, tryin' to hold on to the memory of your lips 59- God I'm so lovesick, what have you done to me ? 60- Let me in your atmosphere

California and me*⁠.⁠✧

61- Should've figured out that you'd go back to New York 62- Don't consider me when you run back to her 63- You don't have to hide it, I know why you went 64- Said you needed space, I know better than that 65- Could've fought for you but I just let you leave 66- Hurt too much to consider that you didn't love me 67- The mountains of LA will weep through the night 68- Driving through sunset is a terrible sight 69- Left me and the ocean for your old fame 70- Holding back my tears, I couldn't make you stay

Promise*⁠.⁠✧

71- I made a promise to distance myself 72- took a flight, through aurora skies 73- Honestly I didn't think about how we didn't say goodbye 74- just see you very soon 75- It hurts to be something, it's worse to be nothing with you 76- So I didn't call you for sixteen long days 77- And I should get a cigarette for so much restraint 78- No matter how long I resist temptation, I will always lose 79- I broke my promise, I called you last night 80- It hurts to be something, it's worse to be nothing with you

Goddess*⁠.⁠✧

81- It always goes like this, could've predicted it 82- I'm so naive to think you loved me for me 83- Guess you're still growing up at thirty 84- I'm a goddess when I'm on stage 85- Human when we're alone 86- you took a star to bed, woke up to me 87- I am not your Aphrodite 88- You took me for a fool 89- You watched me rise then killed my light 90- I'm not your fucking goddess

Serendipity*⁠.⁠✧

91- I won't pretend I've been desolate 92- I won't pretend I've been blue 93- It happened so quickly, one second it hit me 94- I've fallen quite hard for you 95- Four-leaf clovers and lucky dimes 96- Coincidences and cosmic signs 97- Have proved that I'm quite naive 98- I'm falling fast, failing gravity 99- I swear that, this time, it's serendipity 100- Hope that you're still mine

The taglist is OPEN:

@skyoverkill1 @sesamemin @zuhahearts @scaraenthusiast1

[azari-31]

All my secrets away - Joaquin Torres x fem!OC

Summary: When Joaquin was transported to the hospital, Izzy found herself at a crossroads. Would she run, as she always had? Or would she finally admit her feelings and stay?

Word count: 2700

Warnings: none :) maybe a little ooc Joaquin

A/n: First, see the hashtags. Second note - Secrets by OneRepublic was playing on loop while writing this. Also, I wrote another version of this part. Feel free to check it

Part 1 - Back to you

Part 2 - The one who left

Part 3.2 - What have they done to us

Enjoy!

Izzy Deveroux sat on the bench outside the hospital, unmoving. Bag with Joaquin’s clothes laying beside her. Brutal reminder of his last mission. She had been there for a while now, staring at the ground, trying to convince herself to walk inside. But she couldn’t. He was awake now, and with that came the inevitable confrontation — with her feelings and the weight of their last argument.

Her mind was consumed by Joaquin. His last mission played in an endless loop — their fight, the moment the missile struck, the way his body plummeted into the ocean. She had been frozen, paralyzed by fear. Even if there had been something she could do, she hadn’t moved. After that, everything was a blur. The helicopter transporting him. The emergency surgery. But when the doctors had to restart his heart… she broke.

At that moment, she regretted being only human. Regretted every harsh word she had thrown at him before his mission and ever leaving him. Joaquin was a hero, with or without the suit. And she… she was just an agent. A scared, pathetic excuse for one.

With shaking hands, she unlocked her phone, scrolling until she found the photo from three years ago. It was the last one she took before leaving. The only one she saved after her escape. Memories from that night flooded her mind instantly.

A club, dimly lit and buzzing with music. Joaquin’s arm draped lazily around her shoulder, both of them flushed from the tequila and the warmth of laughter.

"Come on, Quino!" Izzy giggled, leaning into him as she held up her phone.

Joaquin groaned, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. "Iz, you already have, like, dozens of pictures of my stupid face."

"Yeah, but this one’s gonna be my favourite. Come on! You're the Falcon now!"

The camera clicked just as he rolled his eyes, dimples showing, while she grinned like she had the whole world in her hands.

She had laughed, tequila warm in her veins, as she leaned into Joaquin’s side. He hugged her and smiled. The bar lights flickered gold and red, casting shadows over his sharp jawline, the playful glint in his eyes. The camera clicked again.

And then it hit her.

It wasn't the tequila. It wasn’t the rush of the night or the music vibrating through the floor. It was him. The way he looked at her, like she was his favorite story. The way his arm stayed around her shoulders even after the picture was taken and how it made her feel. How he made her feel. The way her heart tripped over itself when he laughed, completely unguarded, completely him. 

She was his friend, nothing more. But she wanted to be more than his friend. And yet she couldn't bring herself to say something out of fear of rejection. 

That was the night she left him. To protect their friendship and her heart. Because in the end, someone would be hurt and Deveroux couldn't afford to lose him. 

She had spent years calling him her best friend. But in that moment — staring at the photo, feeling the warmth of him beside her — Izzy knew.

From that moment on, Joaquin Torres wasn’t just her best friend. He was more. And instead of admitting it, she locked those feelings away.  For her, their friendship meant more than her own feelings.  

"—You okay, kid?" Izzy jumped, startled by the familiar voice. Sam Wilson had appeared beside her, sinking onto the bench with a weary sigh. He looked just as exhausted as she felt. Joaquin was his friend and Sam almost lost him the same way he lost Riley.

"Kinda." she murmured. "I think."

Sam studied her for a beat before shaking his head. "Nobody will say it out loud, so I have to. I know you care about him. Probably more than you want to admit."

A dry chuckle escaped her lips, but it didn’t stop the tears. She swiped at them quickly. "Nothing gets past you, huh?"

Sam just pulled her into a one-armed hug, letting her lean into him."I saw the way you looked at him," he said gently. "You love him."

Izzy swallowed. And then she spilled her heart's darkest secret. 

"I love him so much I would leave if his happiness depended on it."

"But do you love him enough to stay?" Sam's question left her speechless. He saw her internal turmoil. "Tell him."

She let out a shaky breath. "I don’t think he’d want to talk to me after… you know." She twisted her fingers nervously. Sam sighed. 

"Izzy, that kid loves you. Last fight didn't change that."

"He hates me, Sam. You didn't see the way he looked at me on the ship." 

"Trust me, Izzy. Tell him everything, no half truths, no lies. You both need each other now. More than ever." 

===⭐===

As the conversation about his new wings wrapped up, Joaquin leaned back in his bed, arms crossed. Sam could tell there was something else on his mind.

"So," Sam started, watching him carefully, "what is it?"

Joaquin hesitated for a moment, then exhaled. "You said you’re putting a team together."

Sam nodded slowly. "I am."

Joaquin exhaled slowly, his gaze unwavering. "It’s not about that. It’s about getting someone who can get the job done, no matter what. The team could use her skills."

Because having her in his life, even as an enemy or a stranger, was still better than those three years without her — better than the silence, the unanswered questions, the hollow ache of missing someone who was still alive but was impossibly out of reach. 

At least with her close, he could learn how to love her in silence, keeping his feelings hidden in a way that wouldn’t make her uncomfortable being around him. At least she would be close, near him. But those years without her? That kind of loneliness was something he never wanted to feel again.

Sam let out a thoughtful hum. Wilson knew his partner was lying, but he decided to play along with Torres, just to see his reaction."She’s got baggage."

"Who doesn’t in this line of work?" Joaquin shot back. "If you trust me to be part of this, then you can trust her too."

Sam smirked, shaking his head. "You’re really vouching for her, huh?"

"With my life."

Sam exhaled, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "Alright." He stood up, giving Joaquin a knowing look. "Good thing she’s already waiting outside."

Joaquin stiffened. His heart stuttered for a second, but he forced himself to keep his expression neutral.

"I thought she had somewhere else to run." he muttered, more to himself.

Sam barely smiled. "She didn’t run this time."

Silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts. A little spark of hope ignited in Torres’s heart. Then, softer, Sam added, 

"She wanted to, hell, she was close to do this. But she stayed by your side every day."

Joaquin’s breath caught, his gaze flickering to the door. The weight in his chest shifted, something uncertain yet undeniable settling in its place.

She was still here, to Joaquin's shock, fighting against every instinct telling her to run. Maybe that meant he should fight too—not just for her, but for them. For whatever future they still had. He just wanted her to be close to him, whether if she was his girlfriend, friend or just a stranger.

Joaquin’s jaw clenched. "Last time we talked, she made it pretty damn clear she didn’t want to be my friend anymore. I wasn’t without fault either."

Sam hesitated, then spoke carefully. 

"I won’t say much, but… she cares about you, kid. So much that it scared her. Let her explain."

Wilson silently opened the door and left Torres alone. Deveroux looked up at him and stood up in a second. 

"You can do this." Sam said and left her all alone with her thoughts. Deveroux took a deep breath and wiped away her tears. And then, she made a first step towards Joaquin's room.

When Izzy finally stepped inside, her heart lurched.

Joaquin looked pale, weak — but he was alive. Burn marks scarred his neck and possibly some parts of his body too. Barely breathing, she sat beside him, her fingers gripping the hem of her shirt.

"How are you feeling, Quino?"

His eyes flickered toward her, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. "I felt better, but it’s good for now."

“I brought you clothes, so you wouldn't parade in this hospital gown.” Deveroux pointed at the bag she put down beside his bed. 

“Thanks.”

"You scared the shit out of Sam," she said, trying to keep her voice light.

Joaquin exhaled, wincing as he shifted. Even now, he smirked. "Yeah, but you can’t kill the cockroach."

A strangled laugh escaped her. But then — silence came. Thick, suffocating. Izzy swallowed hard, trying to steady herself, to find the words that had been clawing at her for years.

"Joaquin, I'm sorry for—"

He cut her off with a tired shake of his head. "You don’t have to apologize. I’m the one who screwed up. You warned me I could die, and I almost did."

"That’s not —" she exhaled sharply, frustrated. "That’s not what I wanted to say."

Joaquin scoffed, looking away. "Maybe not, but I saw it in your eyes."

Her stomach twisted. He thought he knew. Thought he had her figured out. And maybe, once, he did. But not now. Not like this.

She opened her mouth to speak, but Joaquin beat her to it.

"Sam’s planning to reactivate the Avengers." His voice was steady, casual — like this was just another conversation, like nothing had shifted between them.

Izzy blinked, caught off guard. "He is?"

Joaquin nodded. "Yeah. Said the world needs a team that can handle the impossible again." He hesitated. "I told him about you."

She stilled, fingers curling slightly against her jeans. "You — what?"

"You’re one of the best fighters and agents I know, Izzy." He let out a breath, studying her. 

Her heart pounded. There was a time she would have run from this. From him. From everything. But not anymore.

Still, she wasn’t ready for what came next.

"I figured you’d say no, though," Joaquin added, forcing a smirk. "You always did have a habit of walking away."

It was meant to be light, maybe even teasing, but Izzy felt the weight beneath his words. Her stomach twisted.

"That’s not fair," she muttered.

Joaquin exhaled sharply, his smirk fading. "Isn't it?" His voice softened, but there was something raw beneath it. "Tell me something, Iz. If I hadn’t gotten hurt, would you have even come back?"

Izzy swallowed hard, looking away.

"I don’t know."

His jaw clenched, his eyes dark with something unreadable. Anger? Hurt? Maybe both.

"Of course you don’t," he murmured, shaking his head. He let out a humorless chuckle. "That’s all you ever do, isn’t it? Run when it gets too real?"

Her breath caught in her throat.

"I—" She hesitated. What was she supposed to say? That he was wrong? That she hadn’t been running for years? Deny that everything told her to run? 

Because they both knew the truth. Noone said it out loud, but they knew because of Sam. Izzy fought through her thoughts, grounding herself onto the floor. 

Joaquin watched her carefully, his expression unreadable. Then, his voice dropped lower, quieter.

"How long?"

Izzy frowned. "What?"

His gaze didn’t waver. "How long did you hide that you loved me more than a friend?" His voice was steady, but his fingers curled against the sheets like he was bracing himself.

Then, softer. "Don’t even deny it. Sam told me."

Her breath hitched. Joaquin knew — and it terrified her.

"Three years. Since the night you got the Falcon suit."

Joaquin exhaled harshly, shaking his head. "Why?"

Izzy clenched her jaw. "I was scared, Quino. That’s why I took the offer S.H.I.E.L.D. gave me. I knew being close to you would finally destroy our friendship. And I didn't want that."

"So you ran?"

She let out a shaky breath. "I needed to," she admitted. "I thought if you weren’t close, my feelings would disappear. If I kept my distance, it wouldn’t hurt."

Joaquin scoffed. "That’s some messy logic."

"It was the only logic I had."

Joaquin stiffened.

Izzy forced herself to meet his gaze. "You were the only constant in my life. The only person who had my back, who was there with me every step of the way. You were my friend, and I didn’t know what to do." Her voice broke, but she pressed on. "I love you, Joaquin. I just—I needed you to know that. Because I know I won’t be able to say it again."

Joaquin stared at her, his chest rising and falling with each uneven breath. Then, slowly, he reached for her.

Before she could even process it, he pulled her in — closer than she had ever let herself imagine. And then he kissed her. Something she had dreamed of, hoped for — prayed he would do one day. One day, when she finally would find the courage to stay.

It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t hesitant. It was years of silence crashing down all at once. A mixture of anger, relief, and every emotion they had suffocated until now. His fingers tangled in her hair, gripping like she was something he couldn’t lose again. He had wasted enough time pushing this down. He wasn’t about to waste another second.

Joaquin’s fingers brushed against her cheek, his touch featherlight, as if he was afraid she might disappear. Izzy melted into him, her hands gripping the front of his hospital gown like an anchor, grounding herself in the reality of him—of this.

When they finally broke apart, their foreheads rested together, breathless and unsteady. Izzy let out a choked sob, tears slipping down her cheeks. 

Joaquin cupped her face, his eyes dark with something raw, something desperate. “Promise me,” he murmured, his voice trembling. “Promise me you’ll never leave me again. That you won’t run.”

Her breath hitched, fingers curling tighter into the fabric of his gown. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He let out a shaky laugh, brushing away her tears with his thumb. “I’m sorry it took us so long.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “Te amo, princesa.”

The moment the words sank in, something inside her cracked open. The weight, the fear, the wasted time — it all suddenly disappeared.

Joaquin exhaled, shifting against the hospital bed. His fingers trailed down her arm before finding her hand, his thumb tracing slow, absentminded circles against her skin. Izzy swallowed hard, the warmth of his touch grounding her, steadying the whirlwind of emotions still settling inside her.

For years, she had kept this love locked away, too afraid to want it, too afraid to hope for more. But now, with his hand on her and his voice still lingering in the air, there was no more running, no more denying. Joaquin loved her. He had always loved her.

And finally — finally — she could love him the way she had wanted to for so long.

Her fingers tightened around his, a silent declaration of everything she felt, everything she had never been able to say.

Joaquin smiled softly, as if he understood. His grip on her hand firmed, but he didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.

Instead, he kissed her again.

This time, it wasn’t desperate or reckless. It was slow, lingering—filled with everything they had been too afraid to say. A silent promise woven between them, stronger than words.

Four years of Joaquin’s aching silence. Three years of Izzy’s pretending. And now, finally, it was over.

Joaquin was hers.

And Izzy was never going to run. Not when she was finally home.

"So tell me what you want to hear

Something that will light those ears

Sick of all the insincere

So I'm gonna give all my secrets away

This time, don't need another perfect lie

Don't care if critics ever jump in line

I'm gonna give all my secrets away

All my secrets away,

All my secrets away"

[dawngyu]

I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS TRYST FOREVER, AND I KNOW IT'LL BE BEYOND WORTH IT. TROCYJ IS IN MY TOP THREE OF ALL TIME, SO MY EXPECTATIONS ARE THROUGH THE ROOF!

beware of spoilers below the cut, i did some pretty silly live reading/feedbacks because this is what this deserves.

first of all, choi beomgyu's story in trocyj feels kinda… unfinished. and you’re a genius for writing this. i was literally just lying in bed, but the second i saw this posted, i jumped up and ran to turn on my laptop (silly).

how could i not leave feedback after the very first paragraph? that opening scene about the change yeonjun went through—boy, that is love. and because beomgyu doesnt know it, he thinks it’s stupid, like it’s for the worse. (shaking)

The CHOIs. god again, you did such a good job on building the world on trocyj and this fic is reaping it!!!

But why him? Beomgyu wasn’t the one who’d changed, they changed, not him.

SERENE. I can't. T^T

how is it possible that every reader/mc you write is such a well written character? i love how you introduce her in beomgyu's perspective. this gives the tension for me istg.

Without that tall friend of his, looming behind his back, or Yeonjun’s authoritative status, Choi Beomgyu was really nothing.

i screamed. sorry. this is masterpiece.

TAEHYUN. a taehyun mention. i can finally rest easy. LMAO I’M SO NORMAL ABOUT THIS, I SWEAR. but seriously, i love you for making this even better. the convo between her taehyun and beomgyu really builds the tension (once again) and i'm getting kinda…. scared???

I SCREAMED. SHE MET HIM AT THE FIRST DAY AND NOW IM GETTING SCARED. And the sweet flashback???

the irony of choi beomgyu thinking change is stupid… when he was the first one to change. (silly me for getting emotional over this, but stories about change—and the pain of being left behind because of it—always get to me. and you nailed it.)

I saw the tag and yeah. MEAN BEOMGYU. GOD HE PISSES ME OFF.

His attention suddenly shifts from the device in his hands and you follow its direction, eventually landing on a table not far from his. — Occupied sparsely by a mere three students, three students whom you easily recognized. Choi Yeonjun leans forward, his arm wrapped around a girl you recognized as his girlfriend. He looks to be in deep conversation with the third of their small party, Choi Soobin.

I SAW THIS AS A TEASER BUT I STILL SCREAMED. THE OGS. THE SOULMATES.

It felt almost surreal. Two years of being strangers in the halls, two years of constant insults, two years of hatred. Yet here he was, so close to you, just like he had been before everything changed, before he changed. But now, the two of you were doing something so mundane together.

I feel for the reader. It's really really hard to feel that you're left behind. :((((

A FRIENDSHIP BRACELET CHOI BEOMGYU HOW DID YOU FUCKED THIS UP.

“It’s more like..” He hesitates, biting the inside of his cheek as his gaze strays by the bracelet in your hands: “Like a piece of me.” Your eyes widen when he suddenly takes a step forward, reaching for the accessory as he plucks it from your fingers. “So that, in a way, I’ll always be with you”,

SERENE OMAYGOD. HOW CAN HE CHANGE SOMUCH.

You keep it for two years, tucked inside the top drawer of your bedside table where it resides, waiting for the day where you might finally be able to look at it without bursting into tears.

don't mind me… i'm just crying here.

The silence that follows echoes through your small dorm. And you remain on your bed, motionless, staring ahead as your fingers reach up to touch your lips. — Still burning with the fire he’d igninited.

The fact that I was silent the whole time till I reached this part was because it was intense and I couldn't breath the whole time??? What the fuck did just happened. god-tier writing pls.

OH GOD KAI MENTION, I STILL HAVENT MOVED ON. taehyun is the best boy, no questions asked. i love him, i’d give him my whole heart. HE’S NOT JUST A WANT, HE’S A NEED.

the conversation between beomgyu and yeonjun… idk, it feels so ugh!! i know i should be focusing on the story, but i can’t help getting emotional over how defensive yeonjun is for the trocy mc. it’s so reassuring, like solid proof that he’s still so fucking in love with her. and honestly, that healed something in me because i know how badly she was bullied and everything she went through. (what are you doing, baby???)

Tomorrow he would not speak of this. He would act as if it never happened, he would bury it as deep as he could. He might think that this is his only solution today, that this will be his solace for whatever might’ve set him off. But it isn’t, and when this night morphs into dawn, he will realize that. — You don’t want him to.

I FEEL SO BAD FOR THE READER OMG. SHES STRONGER THAN ME.

“I love you.”

this is what i’ve been piecing together since i saw their flashbacks—the bracelet, her craving for revenge. it’s all because she loves beomgyu. :((((

The bed was empty that following morning. The only trace of Beomgyu were the rustled sheets where he’d slept. And you spent nearly an hour tracing their patterns with the tips of your fingers, following every crease of duvet carefully as you memorized the shape of him.

Girl if this is not love I've lived in a lie my whole life.

“Hey uh..” He scratches the back of his neck rather awkwardly, his eyes darting around the empty hallway. “You don’t happen to know if there’s someone with keys to classroom 017? - My girl forgot one of her books in there before the break you see..” —

MY GIRL. CHOI YEONJUN TROCYJ PLEASE, I’M STILL THIRSTING FOR HIM!!! AND YOU WROTE THIS SO VIVIDLY, I CAN SEE HIM BEING ALL AWKWARD AND SHY??? THE FACT THAT HE’S CAREFREE AND SMILING—UGH, LOVE LOVE LOVE. 😭💖

My heart hurts so much that to this point Yeonjun completely given up on… Beomgyu. :(

“It changes everything, alright?” His chest heaves when he exhales, his eyes flaring with the same fire they had that night, the night when he wasn’t thinking straight. He probably wasn’t right now either. — “Because”, he swallows, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he regains his composure. “Because I don’t know how else to change things.”

MOM I CAN FIX HIM. crying

“I fucking hate the fact that you’re always on my mind, much more do I hate that I never even try to will those thoughts away.” Beomgyu bites his bottom lip, chewing on it for a good five seconds before letting it go as he sneaks a glance your way. “But I…” He sighs as he finally comes to a conclusion after his long battle with himself. — “I don’t hate you. I want to, but I can’t”

I can breathe now. I wanna sob (still).

In the pale winter air it became clear. Beomgyu was lonely, just as lonely as you.

how can you write something this… beautiful?

WHAT'S WITH YOU AND BRACELETS??? FIRST A MOMMY'S BOY AND NOW THIS??? I WAS NEVER EVEN A FAN OF BRACELETS, BUT NOW I CAN’T THINK ABOUT THEM THE SAME WAY. THE FACT THAT HE KEPT IT ALL THIS TIME—LIKE HIS OLD SELF WAS STILL THERE, TUCKED AWAY. THIS IS IT. THIS IS EVERYTHING. I’M HONESTLY SOBBING. THE BEST WAY FOR HIM TO REDEEM HIMSELF. 😭💔

and just so you know, i cried during the scene where he and yeonjun reconciled. you did it again. the emotional impact you left on me here… i can’t even put it into words. i love this fic so much. i love you. and i’m just so, so happy that beomgyu’s troubles are finally resolved.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈 𝐁𝐄𝐎𝐌𝐆𝐘𝐔

𝓓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝓔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 ⸝⸝ And you don’t know why you took a step forward, why you let your hands brush against his, why you didn’t stop when you saw the bewilderment on his face. You don’t know why you leaned in closer, when you should be pulling back. — And you don’t know why you couldn’t look away, why you couldn’t tear your gaze from the flames dancing across his eyes. 

You don’t know why you kissed him. ⸝⸝

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ wc, 25.5k ་༘࿐

𝓹airing bully!beomgyu x fed-up!reader (f) 𝔀arning friends to enemies to lovers, bullying, implied violence, violence, beomgyu's a dick, reader's also mean at times, college au, kissing, fingering, mutual masturbation, unprotected sex + pullout, angsty confessions, hmm um um what else, I have no clue..

#serene adds ✎... HAPPY BEOMGYU DAY !! (because it's still the 13th here) ⎯ and oh my god have you guys been waiting for this fic... how long has it been, 6/7 months? maybe even more... I have no words. I feel like this fic is a little all over the place, you might notice the inner monologue changing and so on, but that's because I've been writing it over 6 months roughly, my view on the story has changed with each month... I hope it'll still be worth your while >.< happy gyu day, my love <33 - rain says I need to mention her

This story is a sequel to, The Redemption of Choi Yeonjun ⎯ It's advised that you read said fic beforehand !

People change for the stupidest of reasons. At least Beomgyu thinks so. He’s been told that his view of the world is narrow, that change is something good, something that everyone goes through. That change is important. What a load of bullshit. Look what change had done to his best friend. — Ever since Yeonjun had gotten together with that stupid nerd he’d changed. Changed for the worse. And it seemed as if Beomgyu was the only one who could see it. 

He glares at his classmates, but his once sharp gaze seems to have lost its touch. They whisper, talk, murmur, gossip, they speculate about him. Because everyone knew that something had happened between The Choi’s, that something was no longer the same. — But why him? Beomgyu wasn’t the one who’d changed, they changed, not him. Yeonjun was the one who…He was the one who became infatuated with that good for nothing nerd, and Soobin he…he just accepted it? 

Beomgyu almost snorts at the thought. Fine. If they wanted to give everything up just like that, they could, why should he care? But the lingering glances he receives as he pushes through the crowded hallways are near impossible to shake off. So what if he was walking alone? He didn’t need his friends, they weren’t his friends anymore, they were just side pieces in a much bigger pictur– 

“Hey! Watch where you’re going freak!” He seethes as a small boy crashes into his chest, a freshman probably. Beomgyu’s eyes narrow as he seizes the kid. The younger male swallows as he scrambles to gather his belongings, clearing his throat awkwardly as he pushes his glasses further up on his nose. — “I-I’m so sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going and I..” 

What a pathetic being. Beomgyu grimaces at his petty apology, “stay out of my way next time, alright? You weak piece of–” 

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” 

The voice is familiar as it pierces through the crowded hallway and suddenly the previous buzz of students surrounding him diminishes as Beomgyu’s gaze flickers past the small boy in front of him. — You. 

His teeth grind together at the sight of your cocky figure, that smug grin you always wore, as if you were better than everyone else, as if you were better than him. What a joke. Ever since him and his friends broke apart, you seemed to have been actively plotting against him, singling him out now that he was alone. — Beomgyu would die before admitting that your schemes ever proved successful. Because if there was one thing he hated, it was people who meddled in his business. And you seemed to know nothing else. 

The young freshman scurries off before Beomgyu has the chance to grab him and he bites back a frustrated groan. Instead his attention shifts to your approaching frame. With the small squeak of your sneakers against the floor, you stop inches from him, your eyes near level with his. — Blood rushes within his body like never before, anger soaring through him at the mere sight of your pestering face. 

“Pick on someone my own size? And that would be what, you?” He scoffs, eyeing you with disdain. The grin on your lips only widened further and he refused another grimace. Then it clicks, and Beomgyu has to hold himself back as he feels his jaw twitch. — “You.” The acknowledgement is a short huff of air, it hits your face and you squint as your eyes pierces his. “You’re the one who’s been running their mouth about me all week.” 

Suppose you had been mentioning his name a little here and there. A few comments, nothing crazy, nothing that wasn’t true. It wasn’t exactly unwarranted either. Choi Beomgyu was a nuisance. And without his friends to protect him, you were finally able to sharpen the knife that had been so diligently resting behind your back for three years. — You had longed for an opportunity to get back at him for all the shit he caused you through freshman and junior year; and finally, the universe presented you with one. 

You glance over at him, it would merely take a small raise of your heel for your eyes to become leveled perfectly with his. Without that tall friend of his, looming behind his back, or Yeonjun’s authoritative status, Choi Beomgyu was really nothing. — That didn’t change the fact that you absolutely loathed him. And you would be sure to have him know. 

“Why, has something interesting caught your ears?” You drawl, feeling the grin on your lips threatening to bloom into a smirk. Beomgyu’s face morphs into a scowl, undoubtedly familiar with the rumors of him you’d conducted during the past weeks. — “You must think you’re so smart, sitting on your ass all day and spewing nonsense”, he grits as he takes a charging step forward, chest colliding with yours and you almost stumble backward. 

It takes some effort but you manage to remain fairly unfazed as you eye him with indifference. It only serves to make him angrier. Beomgyu was like an open book, a book in which you only had to read the paragraph on the very back to understand exactly how it would end. He was predictable, and without his friends, he was an easy target for someone who’d been studying him for so long. 

“I do”, you chirp, hands clasping behind your back as you sway on the spot. Beomgyu scoffs, giving a small roll of his eyes before his firing gaze centers on you again. “Just stay out of my way.” — His attention drops to the uniform you wore, the one school handed out at the beginning of each year, much different from the designer one he had tailored each semester. It was subtle, but different, and Beomgyu’s grin widened as his eyes raked across your worn out shoes and old bag. “Think you’ve got other things to worry ‘bout.” 

Without another word, he continues down the hallway, though not before giving your shoulder a harsh shove. — Your lip twitches into an uncomfortable grimace and with a small huff you readjust your backpack. Fucking asshole. Your tongue prods against your teeth, tsking slightly as you watch him disappear. 

⸝⸝ 

“Oh come on, do you really think it’s that bad of an idea?” You whine as your cheek rests against your forearm, eyes trained on the words being written out on the paper before you. — “I do”, Taehyun states without lifting his pencil from the sheet, brows slightly furrowed as he focuses on his work. 

With a small huff you peer up at him, the glasses on the bridge of his nose are crooked and you resist the urge to snatch them from his face. “And what does Mr. Class President presume I should do then?” You sarcastically wonder; though the question makes him raise a disbelieving brow as he glances toward you. “I suggest you stay out of trouble.” — Just as you open your mouth in objection, does he cut you off; “and not spread rumors about him.” 

Your expression contorts into one of disagreement but you remain silent. In a way, you suppose you should feel thankful for him. Taehyun was your only friend, if friends were even what one could call you. — The mutual acquaintanceship consisted of you sharing the latest events of your quite dull life, recapping the drama you’d picked up on your way to the school cafeteria, and most importantly; Choi Beomgyu. 

Though he was originally opposed to the friendship, Taehyun had begrudgingly come to accept your persistent presence as you lingered by his desk between classes. And by your senior year, he knew everything that was to know about Beomgyu and why you so loathed him. — “Shouldn’t you let go of him? We’re about to graduate next year”, he states, his voice monotone as always but you could clearly decipher a hint of pleading as he urged for you to stop fawning over the guy. 

“Let go?” You scoff, sitting up a bit straighter as you eye him with a frown, “I do not need to ‘let go’, I need revenge, besides, Christmas break is coming up, I need to act fast.” — Seemingly unimpressed by your enthusiasm, Taehyun merely shakes his head as his focus returns to the piece of paper in front of him, scribbling down a few lines before he sighs; “and how exactly do you plan on doing that?” 

The way your face lit up was unmistakable and you could practically see him regret his words as you shuffled closer. “Well, I happen to have a plan–” But before you can finish, the classroom door swings open and your professor enters. With a small scowl, you lean back in your chair as Taehyun immediately disregards you, turning his full attention to the lecture about to take place. Jeez, what a try-hard.

History was far from your favorite, but the mention of a group project sparked your interest. Your professor was old, a tall and lanky man, and as he announced the presentation you were to hold regarding a historic event, the class groaned. — Immediately turning to Taehyun with hopeful eyes, you’re met with a small glare before he sighs and nods, announcing that the two of you could partner up. With delight you open your mouth to thank him when your history teacher’s raspy voice suddenly interrupts you. 

“Though seeing as your parallel class is taking the very same course, I thought it’d be a good idea to merge the two of you. – It’ll save me some time when grading as well”, he huffs as a small grin tugs at his wrinkled lips. — It doesn’t take long for the room to be drowned in a chaotic murmur. Your brows pull together in a confused frown and you twist in your seat, “what’s that supposed to mean?” — Taehyun merely shrugs as his eyes flicker between you and your professor by the board, and for once he seemed equally lost. 

A quiet cough makes your gaze snap back to your old teacher as he rummages through his bag for a small piece of paper. “Now I know you aren’t too acquainted with the other class, so I’ve taken the liberty of pre-arranging partners for you.” His statement is met with another wave of complaints and displeased groans as students leaned back in their chairs and shook their heads. 

“Wait, does this mean we won’t get to work together?” You wonder to which Taehyun gives a small nod, “most likely.” — You felt your heart drop at least ten floors as you watched your old teacher fasten the small piece of paper to the board. The sound of chairs scraping against the hard floor fills the classroom as everyone scurries toward the front, eager to see who they’d been partnered up with. 

Without thinking you, too, rise from your desk as you pull Taehyun by his arm, yanking him toward the board. It takes a few shoves to get through the crowd that had formed, but soon enough, you’re standing in front of the list. — Your eyes fervently scan the names, going over the rows at least twice before you find yours. It was as if all air had been sucked from your lungs, your throat uncomfortably dry as you eye the jagged scribbles. Next to your own name was ‘Choi Beomgyu’. 

Behind you, Taehyun lets out a short huff, his lips pulling into a menacing smirk as he eyes your expression. — “Was this also part of your ‘plan’?” 

⸝⸝

“I’m doomed!” You exclaim, hands feverishly tugging at your hair as you cling onto Taehyun’s shoulder. Met with a shrug from your friend who trudges forward, you pout, jutting your chin out as you whine in his ear. “What do I do?” — Taehyun sighs, pushing his glasses further up on his nose as his eyes scan the nearly empty hallway. “This is exactly why you shouldn’t have gotten on his bad side”, he scolds and you huff. 

“Come on now”, you mutter as you release your grip on him, “a rumor here and there has never hurt anyone.” — “Besides, aren’t you supposed to be taking my side?” You finish with a small frown, the crease on your forehead only deepening when he doesn’t say anything. “You told everyone that he threw up in one of the school bathrooms”, he then states and you snort, a small grin seeping onto your face. “So? He might’ve.” 

Taehyun shakes his head, “my point is, you’re already off to a bad start.” — His statement makes you slow down, the shift in your pace causing him to nearly stop as Taehyun turns to you with a confused look. “You’re talking as if I’m the one who should watch myself. – Tae, he’s an asshole, if anything, he should feel ashamed.” 

Your friend bites his lip as his gaze flits between the floor to the books in his hands, and you wondered if you had said something wrong. Choi Beomgyu had earned himself quite the infamous reputation at your college along with the other Choi’s, everyone knew that they were bad news, so why did no one speak against it? — Why did Taehyun cower at the name? 

You couldn’t possibly understand their unreasonable fear. 

But you don’t have to ponder for long, because mere moments later, an all too familiar voice calls out. — “Hey, class president!” Beomgyu’s nasty drawl echoes off the desolate walls as he nears you. His hands are shoved in the pockets of his expensive uniform, and he walks with an allude of confidence. 

Upon hearing his name called, Taehyun freezes beside you as he hesitantly turns to face the source of the voice. Stopping mere inches from your friend, Beomgyu leans forward with a smug smirk and Taehyun hastily blinks under his glasses. You watch their small exchange with a puzzled expression. — “You got my essay?” Beomgyu asks as he quirks a brow in the shorter male's direction. His essay? 

Taehyun nods as he reaches for the bag swung over his shoulder, undoing the zipper as he rummages through its contents. Beomgyu watches him with a look of nonchalance, seemingly unaware of your presence as he focuses on your friend before him. — “Here”, Taehyun murmurs as he hands him at least four pages worth of paper, neatly stapled together. 

Beomgyu scans through it leisurely before giving Taehyun’s shoulder a harsh pat, making the shorter wince. “What’s the meaning of this?” You spit, unable to help yourself as you witnessed the person you so loathed go after your only friend like that. Finally, he seems to acknowledge you as Beomgyu’s eyes snap in your direction, his hand falling from Taehyun’s shoulder as his face contorts into a small scowl. 

Despite the lack of his friends, he still made do with the reputation he had left. Your rumors seemed to have made an insignificant dent in the power he held. But…Taehyun? Of all people, he wouldn’t possibly… Your gaze flits down to the essay in Beomgyu’s hand and over to your friend who avoided your gaze as he urged for you to come with him without causing a bigger scene. 

“Why don’t you stay out of my business.” Beomgyu sneers as he eyes you with distaste. “Business? You call this business?” You frown as you shrug Taehyun’s hands from your arm, stepping between your friend and the menace before him. — Your nose could practically graze his as you let out a short breath of air, meeting his furious gaze with one of your own. 

“Bullying people into doing your work? How do you expect to make it outside of college?” The comment makes his already angered expression flare up and you catch his hands curling into fists by his sides. — “Worry ‘bout yourself won’t you?” he scoffs, ready to push past you.. until your next words catch him off guard. 

“Well that’s going to be difficult, seeing as we’re partners now.” 

He stops, dark eyes snapping back to yours within milliseconds and you feel Taehyun’s hand urgently tug at your arm as he silently pleads for you to back down. — “What?” The word comes out as a mere hiss and you can’t help but feel a triumphant grin pull at the corner of your lips. Ah, so he didn’t know yet. 

“Haven’t you heard?” — You let your head fall to the side, an amused expression flashing across your features as you take in his puzzled and angered state, so predictable. “Mr. Brown’s class, the history project, we’re partners, you and me.” The dread that had previously consumed you seemed minimal when you with satisfaction watched Beomgyu’s face practically explode in a multitude of enraged questions; none of which you were planning on answering. 

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” He spits, a look of disbelief presenting itself across his otherwise arrogant face. You shrug, letting Taehyun pull you back as you send him a small wave, “that we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other I suppose.” — Before you can get another word out, your friend has pulled you down the hall in a most hurried manner; scurrying to get away from Beomgyu's piercing gaze as he leans against the wall with a small huff, eyeing you with a mixture of fury and intrigue. 

“What the hell was that?” Taehyun grumbles as he drags you along, walking with determined strides. You merely roll your eyes as you let yourself be swayed down the long corridors. — “I should be asking you that”, you counter, still not over the fact that he had written an entire essay for the scumbag. 

Not late to catch on, Taehyun bites the inside of his cheek as he fiddles with the glasses on his nose. “Nothing you should worry about”, he mutters, intent on disregarding any further questions. “Nothing I should worry about? What are you, his slave?” — “Don’t say it like that”, he groans and you frown, stopping completely as you break yourself free from his grasp. 

With an exasperated sigh, Taehyun turns to you as he runs a hand through his short hair. “Listen, it was a one time thing and..” — “That’s how it always starts”, you huff, rolling your eyes as you shake your head. “Soon he’ll be asking you to write his exams for him as well”, you exclaim, throwing an accusing finger down the hall. 

But Taehyun only shakes his head as he waves his hands in front of him in denial. “I’m just helping him out..!” — Your gaze narrows down on your friend, helping him out? Sure Taehyun was many things, friendly? – was not one of them. And to think that he was willingly helping one of the Choi’s with something so trivial… 

“Does he have something on you?” You ask, watching as Taehyun’s eyes widened, “is that why you’re slaving away like this?” — “No I..” He begins but quickly seals his lips in a tight grimace, “you don’t understand.” Like hell you didn’t. Why on earth would anyone stoop to such a level. For over two years you had watched as the Choi’s ruled your school, and to say that you were sick of it would be an understatement. 

Perhaps your hatred for the small trio was rooted deeper than your peers. Especially your hatred for Choi Beomgyu. — Because you hadn’t always hated him, in fact, at one point, you think you might’ve even liked him. 

⸝⸝ 

“Hey, is this seat taken?” 

The voice is warm, kind and friendly. It makes you blink as you tear your gaze from the small pile of nail polish that had accumulated on your desk, your nervous habit of picking at the paint evident. — First day of freshman year, first day of college, that had been the day. 

With a small nod, you motion toward the chair next to your own. He takes the seat, grinning from ear to ear as he studies you with curiosity. “Nervous?” He wonders as he tilts his head to the side. “Yeah..” Your quiet whisper is near inaudible but he still seems to pick up on it as his lips stretch further. “Me too”, he says and you can’t help but frown, he didn’t look nervous in the slightest as he comfortably leaned back in his chair, fiddling with the collar of his shirt leisurely. 

He was way out of your league. — Yet he reaches a hand out, eyes darting from yours and down to your own intertwined fingers. His palm is soft and warm against yours, his grip unwavering as he shakes your hand. “I’m Beomgyu, Choi Beomgyu”, he smiles, it’s a kind smile, and your heart flutters at the sight. 

Choi Beomgyu. What a pretty name. 

You spend your first week with him, it was nice to have someone you could call a friend. Someone who made you feel less alone, and Beomgyu did, the two of you were friends, you think. 

You ate lunch together… 

“Tofu’s the best when grilled”, Beomgyu hums as he shoves a forkful in his mouth, barely swallowing as he loads yet another one. You giggled as your gaze returned to your own plate, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. The cafeteria was both crowded and loud, you had dreaded the days you would spend alone in here. 

But as Beomgyu found a nice and secluded table for the two of you, even pulling your chair out with an over exaggerated bow to which you rolled your eyes, you felt hopeful. — Perhaps college wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

And you studied after school…

“If 9 is the value of ‘x’ then all we have to do is replace the variables with such”, you say as you scribble across his notebook. Beomgyu’s frown was nearly dented into his forehead, his bottom lip caught between his teeth in concentration. “But how does nine become ‘x’? Isn’t nine a number and ‘x’ a letter?”He wonders to which you shake your head. 

“Not in this case”, you state before drawing a small ‘x = 9’. Scratching the back of his neck dumbfoundedly, Beomgyu gives a deflated sigh as he slumps against his chair. — “I’m never graduating.” 

You even saw one another outside of school…though only once.. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been here..” You quietly mumble, eyes flitting across the expensive looking furniture. The restaurant was small but reeked of wealth, the meals here were surely out of your budget but Beomgyu had insisted on you joining him one friday evening. — “What?” He exclaims in bewilderment, “Are you kidding? This is the best place in town!” 

True to his word, he paid for your meal, not hearing you out on trying to pay him back in the near future. — “Spending time with you is more than enough”, he says as a matter-of-factly, arm wrapping around your shoulders as you walk down the empty streets. 

Not to forget that one time he’d asked for your number… 

“I mean it’s just… I think you’re cool and..” He clears his throat, sending you a sheepish smile before continuing. “Just y’know, for staying in touch and things..” — The timidness of his request made your heart flutter as a grin spread across your lips. 

“Of course I’ll give you my number, silly!” 

The relief immediately flooding his face was palpable as he sighs, eagerly fishing his phone up for you to put the digits in. He made sure to add a pink heart next to your name, promising to be at your every beck and call should you ever need him. 

It was friendship, right? 

Doing stuff together, noticing things about each other, like the cute little mole on his left cheek, accentuating his already endearing grin. Or his habit of pushing his hair from his face with the help of his pinky, carefully touching up the dark strands, almost absentmindedly. 

You wondered if Beomgyu noticed things about you too. Did he see things you didn’t, and did he like them? Did he like you? Perhaps you would’ve gotten answers to all of those questions, had things turned out differently. 

It was inevitable, of course, you were all enrolled in the same class after all, they were bound to bump into one another soon enough. But things changed when Beomgyu met Choi Yeonjun, changed for the worse. And it didn’t take long for him to become someone completely different, someone unrecognizable. 

Slowly he stopped showing up to your study sessions. More often he’d make excuses to not walk you to class. You began eating lunch alone, and before you knew it, Beomgyu was no longer part of your life. — Except he was, just as someone else. Someone cruel, someone who didn't care about what others felt, someone who only lived to make others suffer. 

His new friends were no different, and together they earned themselves an infamous reputation as the school’s bullies. It hurt. Seeing them act so nonchalantly when toying with others, with people who’d done nothing to upset them. — And as you catch him in the hallway one day, a much smaller student hoisted up by the collar of his shirt, Beomgyu’s grip unwavering as he spits insults in the younger’s face. 

It was then you grew to loathe Choi Beomgyu. 

⸝⸝ 

Your finger hovers over the block button as you lay in bed that night. Back then, just as you applied to switch classes, as you tried to get as far away from him as possible, you had rid yourself of his number too. Part of you thinks you should’ve deleted the old chats along with blocking him, but something held you back. It felt…oddly comforting, re-reading the old messages between the two of you, a glimmer of what you’d once had, of what he’d once been. How pathetic. 

With a small groan you let your phone fall down onto the mattress next to you, shifting to lay on your side as you prepare to let sleep overtake you. He would have to bring it up, because there was no way in hell that you were unblocking and texting first. — “Fucking piece of shit”, you tiredly murmur, letting yourself fall into a very uncomfortable slumber, plagued by the thoughts of your upcoming weeks. 

Beomgyu did not text you first. In fact he didn’t text you at all. The whole weekend goes by, and not a single word. Taehyun on the other hand, had been paired up with some stuck up bitch, he’d told you her name, something on M…M, M, M… Ah yes, Mimi. She’d dated one of the Choi’s, until he left her for that shy nerd, served her right. — But even the two of them had already gotten together to get working on their presentation. 

You had until Christmas break, but that was a mere three weeks away, and at this rate, you’d be lucky to get done by graduation. — Finally, your gloomy reality sets in, and you heave a loud sigh as you drag yourself down the hallway. History classes had become optional, and without your partner, there was little to be done. You spend the hour roaming the third and second floor, sneakers squeaking against the uneven tiles. 

Upon passing that one peculiar little red door, your ears are met with the muffled sounds of what could only be someone getting their guts absolutely plowed. Your nose wrinkles in disgust, ‘room 291’, you could only imagine how many girls had lost their virginity in there. — Shaking your head, your gaze returns forward, but instead of continuing your eternal journey down the long corridors, you freeze. 

The object of your affection was standing right there. You thought he’d skipped. Anything to avoid the project at hand you’d supposed. But Beomgyu’s eyes meet yours, and though he’s all the way down the hall, you still catch the disgust lingering in them. His lip twitches, jaw clenching for a split second, and then he’s turned on his heel, marching down the hallway faster than you could blink. 

You scramble to catch up, upping your pace to a light jog as you call for him. “Hey asshole!” But he isn’t listening, nor is he stopping. In fact…Was he walking even faster? What a dick. “Hey wait up!” Fuck, was he really going to make you chase after him? How immature. — Thankfully having made the girl’s football team in seventh grade seemed to have paid off, and you managed to reach him soon enough. 

Fingers clasping around his forearm, you yank him backward, making him spin around on the spot as he collides with you. The crash makes you wince and you retreat, blinking to regain focus before turning your attention to him. Beomgyu was already watching you, his lips curled into a nasty scowl as his brows furrowed. “What?” He spits, his voice barely above a hiss.

Suddenly, you realize just how close the two of you were standing, chests nearly grazing one another, and the scent of his cologne invades your senses; it was the same one he’d worn for all of college, at least that hadn’t changed. — You clear your throat, quickly scanning the empty hallway before you turn to him, plastering on the sternest of expression you could muster. “The project”, you say, subtly straightening your back. Beomgyu raises a questioning brow as his hands dig into the pockets of his uniform.

You frown, and only when you add the word “history” does he seem to catch on. “Oh yeah, that one”, his features relax, lips pulling into a small grin, “how’s it coming along?” Your mouth opens and closes again. “Excuse me?” You huff, the anger in your words palpable. Still running with his act of obliviousness, Beomgyu shrugs, it was clear that he enjoyed the easy rise he was getting out of you. How you would practically explode over his mere existence. You think he liked making you like that, perhaps it made him feel in control. 

Well he wasn’t. Not anymore. 

“It’s a group project”, you state, folding your arms across your chest, “there’s no way I’m doing this alone.” — Beomgyu looks almost as if he's considering your words, his lips pursed and head tilted to the side. “So ask your little friend to tag along, I’m sure he’d be more than happy to”, he jeers, flashing you a nasty smirk. Was he talking about Taehyun? Your Taehyun. The same Taehyun that he’d made write his essay. 

Your feet move on their own as you take a quick step forward, jabbing an accusing finger to his chest and Beomgyu’s face contorts into a small scowl at the action. “You’re hilarious if you honestly think I’d let you off the hook this easy, that I’d just let you sit back and take credit for my hard work.” You move to shove him backward but his hand is already clasped around your wrist, restraining any movement. 

“Get your fucking hands off of me”, he spits, yanking you from his chest with a force that was near bruising. — “Why? Scared that I’ll dirty your expensive attire with my grimy hands?” You retort as you gesture toward his clothes. Beomgyu sneers as he shakes his head, his long hair falling in front of his face before he pushes it back again. “You’ve already tarnished my reputation with that dirty mouth of yours”, he barks, eyes flickering with malice, “got nothin’ better to do than spreading shit about me, do you?” 

He shifts on the spot, his gaze wandering down the hall briefly, as if checking for witnesses before his attention returns to you. “I’m not stupid, I know it’s you, and I know you’re behind this whole group project too.” — Woah there, way to get ahead of himself. You scoff, arms falling to your sides as you regard him with disbelief. “You think I set this up on purpose? As if I’d want to be anywhere near you-”

 “Well you sure act like it”, he cuts you off, gesturing toward the two of you and the empty hallway you were currently occupying. “Chasing after me like this, trying to get me alone, and the rumors”, his face flashes with something akin to contempt, a spark of his usually crude and mean demeanor simmering through his facade of hate. “I mean come on, it’s obvious.” 

Your jaw could practically sweep the floor at this rate and you almost wanted to laugh at the near comical situation. “Whatever it is you’re implying, I can assure you, you’re way off”, you huff, quick to defend yourself. His fingers are still locked around your wrist, an almost tingling sensation spreading through your arm. Upon trying to tug yourself free from his grasp, Beomgyu’s hand only tightens around yours, dark eyes boring into your own as he scoffs: “Cut the crap. You’ve been chasing after me for years.” 

The blunt accusation makes you pause, and for a moment every single comprehensive thought completely evaporates from your head. Chasing after him? No. You’d been trying to make his life a living hell, so what if that included knowing his entire schedule and who he hung out with? It was all part of a much bigger picture, a picture his tiny brain failed to comprehend. — But then again, Beomgyu had always had an ego made out of steel. It wouldn’t be the first time he would twist and turn a situation entirely in his favor. 

“What’s it that loser friend of yours said? To let me go?” He chuckles, warm breath hitting your already flaring face. How did he know about that? Just how much had Taehyun told him when doing his essay? — Your usually sharp mind can’t seem to conjure a single witty remark, and you’re left biting the inside of your cheek as you send him a bitter glare. 

His hand lets go of your wrist, and Beomgyu takes a step back. “Perhaps you should listen to Mr. Class Pres, it might do you good.” With a final cruel smirk, he shoves past you, shoulder slamming against yours as he ventures down the hallway with his hands leisurely stuffed into his pockets. 

You want to scream, throw something at him, possibly advocate for murder, but you do nothing, nothing but watch his retreating figure as he disappears down the corridor. Fucking asshole. 

⸝⸝

That night left you in a flammable state. Anger gnawed at your very being as you paced the small space of your dormitory. Who was he to speak to you like that? And how would you ever make this project work? Talking to him was useless, a complete and utter waste of time. — Then it hits you. Like a small lightbulb being turned on over your head. Talking to him was pointless, you knew that. But what if you just didn’t speak? 

The cafeteria is as packed as it could get that following Tuesday, and you have to paddle through the large ocean of students, all eager to find an empty seat. You, on the other hand, couldn’t care less for today’s plain lunch menu, and instead of searching a clear table, your eyes scan for the most crowded one. 

It doesn’t take long for you to spot him. Surrounded by a heap of what you could only assume to be acquaintances, Beomgyu sits perched on a table in the center of the room. Conversation flows around him but his gaze is glued to his phone in his hand, mindlessly swiping across the screen in a bored manner. You wondered if he even knew the names of those surrounding him. You guessed not. Beomgyu had a.. unique way of making friends, if friends were even what they were. They looked more like tokens, perhaps he used them to appear less alone. 

His attention suddenly shifts from the device in his hands and you follow its direction, eventually landing on a table not far from his. — Occupied sparsely by a mere three students, three students whom you easily recognized. Choi Yeonjun leans forward, his arm wrapped around a girl you recognized as his girlfriend. He looks to be in deep conversation with the third of their small party, Choi Soobin. 

They used to be friends, Beomgyu and them. You remember it clearly. The harsh words, the glares, the distaste on their faces whenever they passed you by in the hallway. But something had obviously happened, a small rift in an otherwise unbreakable circle. And you’re not late to pick up on the way Beomgyu continues to glance their way, even when surrounded by at least a dozen others. You recognize the look in his eyes, the longing. It was the same way you’d been looking at him for the past two years. 

Perhaps he had a weakness after all. 

Your fist slams against the firm surface of his table, making everyone around you snap their heads in your direction. Their eyes boring into you suddenly made you waver, but you shake it off, turning your attention to your target, now only inches from yourself. — Beomgyu glances up from his phone, brows immediately furrowing as his lips part. Surely he had an insult waiting on his tongue, but you cut to the chase by shoving a small piece of paper in his free hand. 

His confused gaze flickers down to the note as he begins unwrapping it, only to be stopped by your hand on his as you shake your head. You mouth the words “not here”, and he scoffs, though shoving the paper in his pocket. — His token friends all burst out into “oooo”s as they wiggle their eyebrows suggestively. 

Beomgyu pays them little mind as he rolls his eyes, instead he watches your retreating figure as you push past the crowd in which you had emerged from. A subtle smirk playing on his lips as he mindlessly fiddles with the note in his pocket. 

⸝⸝

You had no idea if your plan was even going to work. Would he show up? Or had he thrown the paper in the trash at the first opportunity he got? — Running a frustrated hand through your hair, you sigh, casting a quick glance at the time on your phone, 5:27 pm. He still had three minutes. 

Gnawing on the inside of your cheek, you start to reconsider the choice of bringing him to your dorm room, was it really such a good idea? Though it was hardly like he’d show up anywhere in public with you. This was your best bet, you think.. 

The minutes tick by and your anxiety levels only rise, heart hammering in your chest as you pace the small space of your dormitory. By 5:47 you realized that he was a no-show. A weird mixture of disappointed relief floods you, it’s strange, you had expected the disappointment but why did you feel relieved? Did the idea of spending time alone with him scare you? No. That was impossible. 

Flopping down onto your bed, you emit a small sigh, letting your eyes flutter closed as you replay today’s scenario in your head. Scared? What a joke, Beomgyu didn’t scare you, he was nothing but an immature, selfish, rude piece of–

Knock knock. 

Your body jolts forward, flying off the bed like a deer in headlight as your head snaps in the direction of your door. He came? He actually came. You didn’t know whether to cry or laugh as you gingerly got up. — As you head for the door, you stop by the small mirror by your clothes drawer to check your reflection. Quickly running a hand through your hair, your eyes scan for a lip balm. You catch yourself mid-act, almost cringing at the way you tried to appear presentable. What the fuck were you doing?

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you twist the handle as the door glides open, revealing no other than Choi Beomgyu on the other side. He’s still wearing his school uniform, and his gaze quickly lands on the loose t-shirt and plain sweatpants you’re dressed in, a glimmer of distaste overshadowing his otherwise expressionless face. You ignore the silent insult as you clear your throat, “You’re late.” 

Beomgyu scoffs, his eyes darting down the hall either side of him before pushing past you as he steps inside. “You’re gonna nag me about that too?” He drawls, hands digging into his pockets as he saunters about, taking in the small space you resided in. You notice that he hasn’t brought along any study materials, and you internally groan. “Yes, I am. If this is going to work out then we’re going to have to work together”, you state, folding your arms across your chest as if to prove your point. 

Your partner merely hums as he fiddles with the papers scattered across your desk. “Cute room you’ve got”, he comments as he points to the entirety of your dorm. Your jaw slacks as you blink dumbfoundedly. Did he just give you a compliment? No, you catch the smugness in his voice, and the small glimpse of a smirk as he turns back to your desk. Asshole. 

“I’m serious”, you huff, “this project is important to me, we need to do well on it.” One thing you couldn’t afford to screw up were your grades. Not that they were anything spectacular of the sort, in fact you were flunking French. But as long as you did well in a few of your best subjects… History being one of them. 

Shoving the pen he was previously twirling between his fingers back into its container, Beomgyu turns to you with a sneer. “If it’s so important then I reckon you’d do better by yourself, I might just slow you down.” He regards you with an apathetic expression, almost as if he was waiting for you to snap, to lash out on him and to yell. You suppose it must surprise him when you instead only shake your head, dragging yourself over to your bed as you flop down with a heavy thud. 

“Let’s just get started”, you mutter, pulling your computer out as you power it on. Beomgyu cocks an eyebrow in your direction but doesn’t say anything as he leans onto your desk, hands returning to their default position in his pockets. — “How about one of us gathers information and the other one writes it down onto a powerpoint?” you suggest. He looks to be considering your words as he scratches his chin thoughtfully. 

“Fairs.” He shrugs as he pushes himself off the table and before you know it, the mattress dips next to you as he sits down. Your whole body tenses up, your eyes remaining glued to the computer screen in front of you as you avoid as much as peeking his way. You weren’t scared of him. But a part of you felt so oddly on-edge whenever he was around, you couldn’t quite place the feeling. 

His body radiates warmth, a warmth that spreads over to your own, a bead of sweat accumulating on your forehead as you swallow. You weren’t scared of him so why did your heart feel like it was going to beat out of your chest? — The smell of his expensive cologne, usually sickly strong as it tickles your nose, now only feels nostalgic as you breathe in. He’s so close that your hands are on the verge of touching, his pinky inches from yours. 

Beomgyu on the other hand seems unfazed as he peers over at your screen. “I’ll do the research part”, he states as he leans back against the headboard, “sounds less demanding.” You silently exhale in relief as he creates a safe radius of distance between the two of you, nodding as you hum in response. 

The two of you work like that, side by side in silence for a good while. At first you’re so engrossed in your work, doing anything to distract yourself from the fact that Beomgyu was quite literally less than three inches away, on your bed, in your dorm. But as time goes by, you finally dare to tear your gaze from the screen in front of you, and sneak a small peek at him. 

It felt almost surreal. Two years of being strangers in the halls, two years of constant insults, two years of hatred. Yet here he was, so close to you, just like he had been before everything changed, before he changed. 

But now, the two of you were doing something so mundane together. 

Your gaze lingers on him, even though it probably shouldn’t. But you can’t help the way your eyes trail across his seemingly relaxed expression. From the small, almost unnoticeable, furrow of his brows, the subtle pout of his bottom lip and the natural flush of his cheeks. Your attention strays by his dark eyes as they move along the words on his screen when reads. If you tried really hard, you might’ve been able to forget about everything that had happened, if only for a few minutes. 

Maybe. Just maybe. 

Suddenly, you want to reach out and touch him. To run your fingers through his long and unkempt hair, feel the skin of his hand in yours. And you almost do. Until you remember. — Things weren’t like that anymore, they hadn’t been for over two years. You almost recoil at the slip of your thoughts; for having allowed yourself to fantasize like that when reality was far from it. The Beomgyu before you wasn’t the Beomgyu you knew back then. No. You didn’t know this Beomgyu, and it’s with a bittersweet taste in your mouth that you accept said fact. 

You think half an hour might’ve passed when you notice that something’s off. Thirty minutes of radio silence from his otherwise enthusiastic mouth. And as you peer over your shoulder, you find him leisurely swiping across his screen, eyes glued to something that looked far from the information he was supposed to gather. — “What’re you doing?” The question slips from your lips without you actually thinking it through. Beomgyu’s head turns in your direction and he watches you with an expression that said, ‘what the fuck does it look like I’m doing?’

“I thought we agreed on working on the project”, you say as you point a finger toward your open laptop. Beomgyu merely shrugs, his eyes flitting back to the phone in his hand. “I’ve done my part”, he sighs and your brows knit together in confusion. A small tap of your finger leads you to the first slide of your powerpoint, in which he’d copied and pasted in what could only be pages worth of information. 

Seemingly noting your flabbergast expression, Beomgyu huffs, “Why, you can’t expect me to seriously read all of that?” — “So you’re saying we should just cheat our way through it?” The disbelief in your voice is palpable but he doesn’t seem to pick up on it as he gives a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “It’s not cheating. The information is out there to be used, doesn’t say how to use it”, he states. You have to bite your tongue in order to not let your words slip as you stare back at the computer screen with a puzzled face. 

He did have somewhat of a point. But you’d rather die than admit that. Besides, his ways would surely land you a ‘barely passed’ at most. And you wouldn’t have that. — Grumbling out a quiet, “whatever”, you turn back to the powerpoint as you begin sorting through the paragraphs pasted in there. You quickly become immersed in your work, and fail to notice how Beomgyu discards his phone on the bed as he glances around your room with curious eyes. 

You swallow a groan as you re-read the same paragraph for a third time, seemingly unable to focus with him around. Perhaps he was right, perhaps you should’ve just bit into the lemon and done this project on your own. — “Fuck, you kept this?” Beomgyu’s almost taunting voice snaps you from the text you were so close to giving up on, and you turn to him with a confused frown. 

Though your eyes quickly widened as they landed on the bracelet Beomgyu was holding between two fingers. Suddenly your heart is racing and your breaths are coming in short. The already thick air feels even heavier and you emit a shaky exhale. The brown leather, interlaced with streaks of blue, immediately sends your mind to places you hadn’t allowed it to wander for nearly two years..

⸝⸝

“A friendship bracelet?” you question as you eye the small piece Beomgyu had just handed you. The fine leather felt expensive and you wondered just how much he’d spent on this. It was braided together with a thinner blue thread, the cold shade a stark contrast to the warm brown leather, and your thumb slowly traces its outline as you bring it to your face. 

Beomgyu coughs into his hand, shaking his head as he rocks back and forth on the sole of his shoes. “When you put it like that it sounds childish”, he mutters, the tip of his ears radiating a warm pink and you feel your lips tug into a grin at the sight. — “It’s more like..” He hesitates, biting the inside of his cheek as his gaze strays by the bracelet in your hands: 

“Like a piece of me.” 

Your eyes widen when he suddenly takes a step forward, reaching for the accessory as he plucks it from your fingers. “So that, in a way, I’ll always be with you”, he says as he wraps the leather around your wrist. — It’s impossible to refrain from smiling and your cheeks heat up as he carefully fastens the bracelet around your arm. — Then your curious eyes suddenly fall on the leather around his own wrist, a darker and cooler brown intertwined with a warm red. 

A weird and tingly sensation spreads throughout your stomach as you swallow. And before Beomgyu can withdraw his hand again, do you stop him, fingers clasping around his wrists as you bring them together. — The blues and the reds, they remind you of the friendship necklaces you wore back in elementary school. Two halves of a heart, a childish but sweet promise to be what makes the other one whole. 

Was it childish? Probably. But it was Beomgyu, and you found that you did not care for such matters when he was around. In fact, you think you might even like it. — No, you did like it. You liked everything Beomgyu did, you liked everything about him. And though you were too shy to even admit it to yourself, you probably liked him too. 

“It’s okay right?” 

His sudden question snaps you from your train of thought and you blink as your gaze returns to his warm eyes. He looks…nervous? You’d never seen him like that. Beomgyu was always so adamantly prideful, and you don’t think you’d ever seen him waver. But you decide that you like this side of him too, the bashful and almost cute one. 

“I love it.” And you do, you really do. You love it so much that you keep it even when he stops wearing his. Even when he no longer represented your other half. You keep it for two years, tucked inside the top drawer of your bedside table where it resides, waiting for the day where you might finally be able to look at it without bursting into tears. 

⸝⸝

“Where did you get that?” Your tone is harsh and snappy but it barely makes him flinch as Beomgyu leisurely twirls the bracelet between two fingers. — You reach for it, but you’re too slow, and can only helplessly watch as his whole fist envelops the leather. “I expected a lot from you, granted that you’re still running your mouth about me and all”, Beomgyu drawls as he leans back against the pillows. “But you even kept this piece of shit?” — “I mean come on, it’s pathetic.” 

His words stung. Pathetic? Did he really think of your time together as that? Did he think of you as that? Of course he did, you idiot, get that through your thick skull. You hate Beomgyu. One half-successful study session in the privacy of your dorm didn’t change that and it never would. 

He probably threw his out, it would make the most sense if he did. Perhaps you should’ve too. You switched classes, blocked his number, and avoided him as best as you could in the halls. So why had you kept that? Why did you cling to something so insignificant? Why did it bring you comfort to feel the cool leather against your palm? 

“Just give it back”, you groan as you meekly try and pry his closed fist open. Beomgyu looks as if he’s going to put up a fight, say something nasty back, but he doesn’t. Instead he lets you untangle the bracelet from his fingers, watching as you snatch it back before throwing it on your bedside table once more.  — An uncomfortable silence falls over the two of you, weighing down like dark clouds on a previously sunny day. You wait for him to say something, but he never does. He only watches you with that nearly permanent half-smirk of his, brows tugged slightly upward as his eyes flicker across your flustered frame. 

“I think we’ve done enough for today.” The statement sounds monotone and gray as it falls from your lips. And even now, you expect a reply. Foolishly so, for Beomgyu merely shrugs, swinging his legs over the mattress as he gets up from your bed. — You don’t dare look up as he rounds your bed, your gaze stays by your discarded laptop. The sounds of his footsteps suddenly vanish and you carefully crank your head in the direction of your door. 

With one hand on the handle, Beomgyu looks back at you, his eyes glimmering with something you can’t quite decipher. His lips twitch into a full smirk, and for a moment, you think he might spit another insult on you. He doesn’t. — “See you in class, yeah?” Is all he says before twisting the doorknob and vanishing down the hall. 

And as the door slams shut behind him, you’re left in an unbearable silence. Carefully you reach for the bracelet, only to find it torn in half.  

⸝⸝

Beomgyu shows up to class after that. It takes you by surprise, and apparently everyone else too as heads turn in his direction when he pulls out the chair next to you. And though his work effort is minimal, he’s still there. You hate the satisfied feeling that blooms in your chest at the accomplishment. And you hate the fact that a small part of you has started looking forward to history class. But you would never tell him that, you would never tell anyone that, not even Taehyun… 

“Come on, it’s just one tiny little essay!” You complain in a distraught tone, dramatically kicking at a few stones on the road in front of you. The small rocks clash together as they roll down the gravel pathway that takes you around campus. — Taehyun squints against the bright sun that shone despite the cold December air. He shakes his head, exhaling a small cloud of condensation.  

“It’s less than fourteen days until Christmas break”, he argues as he shoves his hands deep into the pockets of the large coat he wore. “Well that’s exactly why I need your help!” You whine, throwing your frozen hands in the air. — “With everything going on, you know the history project and all, I’m going to seriously flunk French at this point Tae..” You sigh, turning to him with the biggest eyes you could muster as you stick your bottom lip out into a pathetic pout. 

“Please Tae, isn’t that what friends do?” 

Taehyun merely spares you a quick side glance before his focus returns ahead. “You can’t pull the ‘friend card’ whenever you’re falling behind”, he huffs. Biting the inside of your cheek, you think of another way to persuade him. “But if we study together? Then I’m bound to learn!” You suddenly exclaim, causing Taehyun to flinch due to your unanticipated outburst. 

“Fine..” He begrudgingly agrees, though quickly groaning as you wrap your arms around him in a tight hug. “I knew I could count on you!” You cheer before carefully letting him go again. — It’s when you pull back that you notice the figure by the benches a few paces away. You frown, gaze narrowing down on its hunched posture. It was odd for any student to be outside between classes during the cold and harsh winter months, let alone sit perched on one of the usual summer hangout spots. 

“Who’s that?” You question, your footsteps coming to an abrupt halt on the rough gravel. Taehyun groans as he turns to see where you might be looking, a small noise of disapproval passing his lips. “No one important, let’s go back inside”, he says as he pulls you along once more. — But in the bright light of the early afternoon-sun, the black hair atop the lonesome shadow’s head seemed awfully familiar. 

“Is that…Beomgyu?” Your inquiry is met by yet another groan from your friend. Taehyun tsk’s as he shoots a sneer in the direction of the lonely figure. “Wouldn’t that be even more reason to go back inside?” — Despite his greatest efforts, you ignore him as you venture off the small path and over the grass. Taehyun calls out for you, conflicted as his gaze flits between you and the entrance not far away. 

With a small roll of your eyes, you stop to wave him over. But Taehyun promptly shakes his head. “Fine, then go on inside, I’ll be right with you”, you say as you readjust the bag on your shoulder. He looks puzzled for a moment, lips pressed into a thin line as he regards you with a concerned frown. “What are you going to do?” He asks, albeit somewhat hesitant. You merely smile, and though it didn’t quite reach your eyes, Taehyun chooses not to pry further when you say: “I’m just going to ask about the project.” — He gives a curt nod before disappearing down the graveled path, hands still stuffed deep in his pockets.

Your footsteps crunch against the frosty grass and they fill the crisp winter air. The closer you get the more certain you become. It was Beomgyu. Sitting on the wooden table, his feet rest on the accompanied bench. He’s not wearing a jacket, only the blazer he had gotten personally tailored. If he was freezing, he didn’t let on to it as he remained still, his eyes focused on the ground below him. 

The real question was, why was he out here alone? Surely he should be spending the lunch break in the cafeteria with his friends, and not on a cold bench outside in the middle of the winter. — You stop in front of him, so close that your worn out shoes break the circuit of his limited vision. He knows that you’re there, you can tell by the subtle twitch of his jaw, and the way his fingers curl against one another as his hands mold together. 

“Hey.” 

You greet him. It’s polite, and when you think about it, you can’t recall ever uttering the word ‘hello’ to him, not for the past two years at least. It takes him a moment to finally look up, and when he does you immediately notice how sunken his eyes are, the almost grayish color of his cheeks and the pink tint to his nose. — He looked like shit. 

Part of you wants to say something about it, to finally jab back at him for all the crude comments he’d made about you. But you can’t. And suddenly, you don’t know what to say at all. Why had you even approached him in the first place? The two of you hadn’t spoken in private since… Well since the bracelet incident. Thankfully he had yet to bring it up again, but you didn’t know if you could trust him not to. It was already awkward between the two of you. 

Had you just made things worse? 

Beomgyu looks too tired to bite back himself as he lets his gaze leisurely drift across your frame. “What are you doing out here?” — Fuck, that wasn’t the question you were supposed to ask. Fucking idiot. But you couldn’t deny the curiosity that lingered around you. What was he doing out here? 

“That’s none of your business.” He spits, lips curling into a small scowl, but you can tell that it’s taking him a great deal of effort. And for some reason, you care. You hate that you do. Because you should feel anything but concern. You should be celebrating his downfall. This was what you had been waiting for. So why did it feel so bittersweet? 

You think it must have something to do with the afternoon spent on your bed. Almost an hour of complete silence, no bickering, no insults thrown. You blame yourself for getting too caught up in the moment. For letting yourself view him in a different light. — You hate Choi Beomgyu. And he hates you. That’s how it was supposed to be. 

When you don’t reply, he lifts his head once more. His eyes are dark, lifeless. He frowns, and for a second he looks almost irritated. “Why do you even care?” He grunts, a flicker of disgust tracing his features, as if the mere thought of sympathy from you was enough to have him gagging. It was nice. It felt familiar. It felt like the Beomgyu you knew. 

“I don’t.” You simply shrug, letting your bag fall from your shoulder as you heave yourself onto the bench next to him. He doesn’t move, but you can feel his gaze on you as he studies you intently. — You don’t dare look at him, instead you keep your eyes set forward. Despite the cold and chilly temperatures, snow had yet to fall. And the naked trees now only looked dystopian as you glance around the campus grounds. 

“Where are your friends?” You suddenly ask, the question coming out light, just like any other. You don’t expect an answer, not from him. In fact you’d prepared yourself for him to get up and leave. But he doesn’t. — Beomgyu is silent for a second, you hear him draw in a slow breath, holding it for a moment before letting go. “What friends?” He then says, and this time he actually sounds tired. 

Your stomach twists in an uncomfortable way, a way that was nowhere near satisfying. “What about the ones from the cafeteri..” — “Don’t be daft”, he cuts you off, his voice gaining a sudden sting. “You’re not stupid. Don’t pretend that you are. It’s unattractive.” He jeers, fingers twisting against one another, as if he was trying to crawl out of his own skin. 

“Isn’t that why you’re here?” He huffs, shuffling to the side as he creates a cold metaphorical wall of distance between the two of you. “To poke fun at me? To shove it in my face?” He sounds almost distressed, and before you can reply, he turns to you. “You think it hasn’t been already?” — For the first time since you approached, he’s looking entirely at you. And when you return his wide gaze, it feels like you’re looking at a shell of who he used to be. 

You tell yourself that it’s the cold air. That it’s the already depressing surroundings of the dying nature around you. But Beomgyu looks just as malnourished as the trees, as pale as the sky and as beat as the frozen grass you walk on. It was easy to take pity on him like that. It was almost like he was begging for it. Begging for someone to sympathize with him. You can’t imagine that anyone ever did. 

“That’s not why I’m here”, and your statement is true. You don’t know why you’d come here, but you knew that it wasn’t out of malice. Because even if you did hate Choi Beomgyu, you don’t think you could ever say it to his face. — He didn’t know that of course. Part of you wished he did. Beomgyu scoffs, his gaze returning to the frosty ground as he bites the inside of his cheek.

You’re scared that you might pity him forever. That things might never change. That the two of you might just be stuck in an eternal loop of hatred and unspoken feelings. — You don’t know what you want, but you know that it is not that. Perhaps this history project was the start you had been looking for. Maybe… 

“Are you free friday?” 

⸝⸝

Your study sessions became regular after that. Beomgyu appeared to have nothing better to do with his time, and to be frank, neither did you. And though you were far from friendly with one another, none of the insults lingered. You studied in silence, him by your desk and you on your bed, as far away from each other as you could get. It was quiet, so quiet that you sometimes forgot that he was even there, save for the occasional sigh or click of his tongue. 

At first, he would bring his phone, checking it every other second, like he hoped for something, for someone, to be there. But after four days, he stopped. And your curiosity only grew. 

Now a mere week remained until christmas break. You and Beomgyu had been studying together for the past six days, without fail. Your presentation was nearly completed, and part of you thinks this might be amongst your last sessions together, if not your very last. — It felt strange, almost melancholic. Would you miss him? Or would you miss the company? Taehyun was your friend, sure, at least that's what you called him. But as soon as the bell rang, as soon as class ended, it was only you again. 

So was it really so wrong to look forward to a bit of company after school? Even if said company was a grumpy and quiet Beomgyu who did his best in ignoring you whilst he was there. Maybe. — Maybe it was the slight urgency of losing the temporary comfort these quiet hours had provided you that led to the act of stupidity you were about to perform next. 

The sun had set hours ago, casting your room in a dim glow provided by the small lamps on your bedside table and desk. You and Beomgyu had been working quietly for the past while. Now that the information was gathered and all that remained was for you to edit the last paragraphs, he used his time to decorate the powerpoint, adding relevant pictures and messing with the fonts. It wasn’t hard work, but the fact that he did something, made your stomach flutter in an unfamiliar way. 

“Are you busy next week?” You wanted to ask him if he would like to practice the presentation together. But Beomgyu kills your last glimmer of hope with a small huff, “Yeah.” He doesn’t turn to look at you, his eyes steadily fixed on the computer screen in front of him despite the fact that he was now only aimlessly flipping through the slides. 

Biting the inside of your cheek, you refrain from asking if he was busy all week. You would most likely only receive a half-hearted ‘yes’ anyway. Instead your gaze flickers down to your keyboard, your nails quietly tapping against the keys as you think of something to say. Every second spent in his presence only seemed to pull even more questions from your already curious mind. There was so much you wanted to ask him about, even though you knew it wasn’t your place. 

Just let him go. 

You can hear Taehyun’s voice in the back of your head, pleading for you to not pry, to keep your eyes down and mind your business. It wasn’t that easy. He didn’t understand. He didn't know. He didn’t know Beomgyu like you did, like you thought you did. 

“Are you sure you don’t have time to come by and practice?” You can’t stop yourself, the question slips out anyway, and you watch as Beomgyu’s shoulders tense before relaxing again. “I told you I’m busy”, he repeats in the same monotone and tired voice he’d been using for the past week. — “Right…” You hold your tongue, fingers brushing over the keys on your keyboard, hovering above the space button. Your lips part, then they close, and then they part again. 

“Are you meeting Yeonjun?” 

You shouldn’t have asked that, you know it. Yet you did. Perhaps you wanted a reaction from him, perhaps you wanted to hear him raise his voice for the first time in over a week, perhaps you wanted him to get angry, to insult you, because it was the Beomgyu you knew. 

His shoulders go rigid this time, and though you can’t see his expression, you can still catch the twitch of his jaw. He’s stopped swiping through the presentation slides, now stuck on the first one as he gazes ahead. For a minute, everything’s quiet, you think he might not say anything at all. But when he speaks up, he doesn’t raise his voice, instead he lowers it, until it’s nothing but a low drawl of his tongue. 

“You think this is funny?” The cold words send a shiver down your spine, and even though he isn’t looking at you, you felt as if you were being judged under a microscope. “I… I’m sorry..?” You squeak, your voice nearly inaudible but Beomgyu catches it. — He chuckles, pushing his chair back as he turns to you. 

The fiery brown in his eyes is long gone, replaced with an ashy looking color, like he was drained of all life. His lips, usually pulled into either a scowl or a menacing smirk, remain just as unreadable as the rest of his face. — “Do you enjoy this?” He asks, but it hardly sounds like a question. 

You gulp, fingers pressing so hard against the keyboard that you have managed to insert a whole paragraph of nonsense onto the powerpoint. Quietly shaking your head, you think of a way to salvage the toes you’d accidentally stepped on. “No I, I’m sorry…” You swallow once more, “I just…I don’t know what happened between you…I..” 

Beomgyu’s loud scoff cuts you off, and you watch as he gets up from the chair, kicking it back against the desk. With two long strides he reaches you by the edge of the bed. Though he was barely an inch or two taller than yourself, he somehow managed to appear menacing as he loomed over you. “Has it ever crossed your mind that it might not be any of your fucking business?” He says, his tone remaining indifferent as he glares down at you with those empty and dying eyes. 

You bite your tongue, refraining from intervening and saying that practically everyone at school knew it. Though you were sure he already knew that too. — Beomgyu huffs out a sharp exhale, shaking his head. “Every single fucking day”, he mutters, his eyes narrowing as they linger by your slightly sheepish expression. “Every day, people like you, stick their nose where it doesn’t belong.” 

The way he spoke, grouping you together with the other students, it shouldn’t have made your chest churn the way it did. “People like me?” You repeat the words, tasting them on your tongue, and finding that you don’t like them. Beomgyu, on the other hand, merely sends you a small look of distaste, the only emotion that had managed to pass his features in a whole week. 

“What? You think you’re something else?” He jeers, frowning when you get up from the bed, straightening your back as you come face to face with him. — “I know I am”, you say, forcing your voice to remain steady. You knew that you weren’t the only one who’s thoughts lingered in the past. You knew that he must still think of the two of you from time to time, even if only for a brief moment. 

Beomgyu finally seems to catch on, his brows rising on his forehead when he does. He looks like he’s about to burst into laughter, you think that he might. “Oh that’s right”, he muses, “You think you’re special because I was nice to you back then, because I took pity on you.” He pushes a strand of dark hair from his face with the help of his pinky, “Bet it was the first time something like that happened.” 

You didn’t want to admit that he was right, that it had been the first time someone had ever gone out of their way for you. That it had been the first time someone had ever gifted you something, apart from your own family, that it was the first time someone willingly sat with you during lunch. But your mind gets caught on that one word he’d used. Pity. 

Was that all it was to him? A game of play-pretend, a chance for him to play hero? You shake your head, it couldn’t be, it wasn’t. — For two years, you had blamed Choi Yeonjun. You had blamed him for taking Beomgyu away from you, for turning him into someone you couldn’t recognize, for ruining your only chance at an actual friendship, perhaps even something else. 

It was easy to blame Yeonjun, you didn't like him, you never had. But you could never bring yourself to actually blame Beomgyu himself, because that would mean he was a bad person, and you didn’t want him to be. You wanted him to remain the perfect version you had created in your head, the version you thought you liked. It became clear now, that he wasn’t. 

“You’re a liar.” 

You state, fingers twitching by your sides as you resist the urge to wrap your arms around yourself. Beomgyu’s expression morphs into one of confusion, then he scoffs. “A liar?” He asks, his voice hollow: “Do you hear yourself talk? You sound fucking crazy.” — “If you think for a second that what we have is different from any other piece of shit person in this school, you’re wrong.” He spits, eyes flaring up for the first time in so long, a small fire igniting within them. 

He continues to list reasons, reasons to hate you, reasons to hate him, reasons to hate everything. You weren't listening. All you see is his eyes, burning with rage, with life. 

It’s unexplainable, the feeling that surged in your chest, that pounds against your ribcage and pulls on your lungs as it sucks the air from them. And you don’t know why you took a step forward, why you let your hands brush against his, why you didn’t stop when you saw the bewilderment on his face. You don’t know why you leaned in closer, when you should be pulling back. — And you don’t know why you couldn’t look away, why you couldn’t tear your gaze from the flames dancing across his eyes. 

You don’t know why you kissed him. 

But you did. 

And now it was too late to ever go back. — Though you're not sure you want to. 

His lips feel soft against yours, not that you had ever stopped to think about how it would ever feel. Yet this somehow seemed right. You don’t open your eyes to look at him, you don’t think you could bear that. Still, you’re surprised when he doesn’t immediately jerk backward, when he doesn’t push you away. — Beomgyu hesitates. You think it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him do.  

The moment lasts forever, and somehow it seems to have vanished within the blink of an eye. The bed squeaks when you crash against the mattress, you can still feel the flat of his palms on your shoulders as the force he’d used to shove you away from him lingered. 

When you peer up at him, you find him already watching you. The flames in his eyes seemed to burn even brighter now. His jaw clenches, fingers curling into fists by his sides as he struggles to keep his composure. — Your lips part, but no words come out. What was there to say? Sorry? But you weren’t. I hate you? But you didn’t. 

Beomgyu speaks before you get the chance to, his nostrils flaring as he takes a deep breath. “You’re fucking insane.” It’s all he says, not waiting for a response as he turns back to your desk. He shoves his laptop in his bag with such force that you thought its seams might break.

Then he heads for the door, reaching it in four long strides. He doesn’t turn to look at you, not like he had that day. He rips it open, ignoring the squeaking sound it made when he slammed it shut behind him. 

The silence that follows echoes through your small dorm. And you remain on your bed, motionless, staring ahead as your fingers reach up to touch your lips. — Still burning with the fire he’d igninited. 

⸝⸝

That night was a quiet one, your dorm room basked in the eerie glow of the moon. Nothing but the soft sounds of your hushed sobs filling the confined space. Your pillow is wet, stained with your tears as you cry into the cotton. It was pathetic, really. In fact, you didn’t even know why you were crying. — But as soon as the door had slammed shut, and you had been left alone with nothing but your lingering thoughts, everything had become too much to bear. 

The events of the past few weeks finally catching up to you, breaking the dam of pent of tears you’d been so carefully keeping at bay. It felt as if it would never stop. You didn’t know whether you felt humiliated, rejected or just straight up insulted. Part of you just felt stupid. What the fuck were you even thinking? Kissing him like that. The image itself makes you grimace, and with a heavy sigh you pull yourself into a sitting position. 

After fumbling in the dark for a few moments, your fingers manage to grasp your phone. The bright light of its screen blinds you, and you squint as you scroll through your ridiculously short contact list. — The line rings for almost a whole minute, all the while you anxiously bite on your short nails, chopping the last bits of green polish from your nail beds. And when he finally picks up, it’s silent, save for the deep breaths he emits as he waits for you to speak.

“Taehyun?” 

Your voice comes out a lot more hoarse and strained than you had anticipated, causing you to immediately clear your throat. Taehyun groans, and you hear him shift slightly as he mutters something incoherent. “Do you know what time it is?” He finally asks in a groggy, sleep-laced tone. A spark of guilt blooms in your chest, and you throw a quick glance toward the time on your phone, showing that it was well past midnight. 

“I’m sorry…I just”, you bite your lip, hesitating for a moment. It wasn’t like you didn’t trust Taehyun, it was just different. You and Taehyun were different. Part of you thinks he won’t understand, that he might judge you, no you know he will. Still, he was the only one you could turn to. — “Taehyun, I think I messed up.” 

He doesn’t answer right away, but you know he’s still there. You sit in silence for a while, just listening to his breaths, and for a moment you wonder if he’s fallen back asleep. But then he speaks, this time he sounds more awake. — “How bad?” He asks, and somewhere in the background, you think you can make out a light being flicked on. 

“Really bad..” 

⸝⸝

You had never been to Taehyun’s house before. Two years of so called friendship and you would think that you’d progressed further. But as you heave the last step leading up from the subway, you stop in order to relocate yourself. The neighbourhood looked average, yet inviting. Its quaint little houses, lined up along the dimly lit street, all reflected one another. 

Number 14, that was the one you were looking for. Your worn out sneakers hit the asphalt with heavy thuds, and a small cloud forms when you exhale out into the cold December air. With your fingers stuffed deep in the pockets of your duvet jacket, you make a slight turn, coming face to face with house number 14. 

It looked just like the rest, a small mailbox by the fence gate, its white paint chipped in places. You push it open, stepping up the small graveled path taking you to the doorsteps. Taehyun told you not to ring the bell, but to quietly knock. He didn’t live alone, you knew that much. — He shared the small flat with one of the juniors, you think his name might be Kai. 

You knock once, proceeding to wrap your arms around yourself as you wait anxiously for him to open. It takes him a mere thirty seconds, and when the door swings aside, you're met with the still sleep-laced figure of Kang Taehyun. — He’s dressed in nothing but a pair of checkered sweatpants and a black t-shirt, the glasses he always wore nowhere to be seen. He looked far different like this, it takes you a moment to even recognize him. 

Your silence must’ve been unusual, because he soon cocks an eyebrow, stepping aside as he motions for you to get in.  

Taehyun’s place looks nothing like you’d imagined it. It was far messier. With clothes hanging off the kitchen chairs, lecture material spread over the round table and piles of books crowding the already small countertop. Still, he doesn't seem to mind the slight chaos as he reaches up to fetch two glasses from the cabinet, not saying anything as he fills them both with water from the tap. 

This eternal silence covers you both like a thick blanket, enveloping you in a false sense of ignorance, like the fact that you were currently in his kitchen, at 3am no less, was completely normal. — Taehyun remains quiet as he walks past you and into the joint living room, you trail behind him, eyes lingering on the discarded guitar that rested against the wall. 

The large green sofa takes up a good third of the room, and Taehyun sets your glasses down on the wooden coffee table in front of it as you take a seat. — “Do you play?” It’s the first thing that comes to mind, not a ‘Hello, sorry for bothering you so late at night and barging into your home.” But you can’t help yourself, somewhere in the back of your mind, you hear Beomgyu, clearly remembering the day he’d told you about his love for music, no less the guitar. 

But Taehyun merely shrugs, and when he speaks, his voice is groggy. “Kai does.” The statement doesn’t leave room for further questions, and you thought it was probably wise to not bother him with more small talk. 

Reaching for the glass, your fingers wrap around its cold surface as you bring it to your lips. You sip slowly, prolonging the inevitable confession you were to make. And as the refreshing water slides down your incredibly dry throat, you sneak a glance in his direction. It felt odd, seeing Taehyun outside of school like this. 

Your gaze lingers on his bare arms, something his uniform never allowed even as much as a glimpse of. He leans against the soft cushion of the couch, mindlessly fiddling with a small string which you had no idea where he’d gotten it from. — It might’ve been the late hour, or the change of scenery, hell it might’ve even been the fact that you’d probably made the biggest mistake of your life not even eight hours ago. But had Taehyun always looked this… Good wasn’t the right word… At least you didn’t think it was. 

You suppose he looked… Ordinary. He looked far more relaxed than he ever did at campus, in class or in the cafeteria. This Taehyun resembles little of your class president, right now he just looks like, well him. 

“Why are you here?” His sudden question snaps you from your trance and your eyes immediately snap toward the water in your glass, the clear liquid swirling around slowly. Why were you here? Because you were alone, because you were scared, because you didn’t have anyone else to turn to. — “I… I messed up”, your deflated sigh rings out in the living room. 

Taehyun continues to fiddle with the small string, twisting it around his thumb. “The presentation?” He asks, but you can tell that was not what he’d actually meant. Still, you nod. “Well that one too, that’s for sure..” You didn’t even want to think about having to face him next Tuesday, much less going through with that presentation together, in front of everyone. 

“It’s about him, isn’t it?” 

The question was hardly needed, and you mumble out a quiet ‘yes’ as you set your glass down. Taehyun hums, his eyes trained to his hand. You wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t. Biting the inside of your cheek, you inhaled slowly. It was better to get it out right away, wasn’t it? Besides, there was no way you could sugarcoat it, no way for you to lie yourself out of this. You wanted to be honest with Taehyun, because it was easier to be honest with him than with yourself. 

“I kissed him.” 

There. You said it. So why didn’t the lump in your throat ease? Why did your chest still feel tight and your palms sweaty? Why couldn’t it all just go away, you did what you were supposed to, you confessed. Was that not enough? — Taehyun doesn’t look surprised. In fact he looks almost amused. As if he was betting with himself, ultimately ending up winning as you said what he’d already expected you to. 

“I think he hates me even more now. No - I know he does.” You can’t stop the words from flowing, all your pent up emotions rolling off your tongue in one swift motion. “I don’t think he’s ever going to talk to me again. And I’ll probably have to do the presentation alone. But I don’t reckon he’ll tell anybody, I’m sure he’s embarrassed about being associated with me. Fucking entitled asshole.” The last part comes out with slight distaste. 

“Don’t you agree?” You turn to Taehyun who’s been listening quietly. Finally, he glances up from the string he’s fiddling with. He sighs, “I think you should’ve stayed away from him just like I told you to.” — His words made your chest tighten even further, but they were not surprising. You knew what his response would be, you had known before you even picked up the phone to call him. Still, you did it. Because even if he told you what you’d already heard so many times before, it was something, and something was better than nothing. 

“Why did you do it?” You quietly ask him, your question coming out nearly inaudible. “Hm?” His dark eyes, the ones you used to watch behind the thick lens of his glasses, shift over to you. — “Why did you write his essay?” Your sudden change makes him pause, his fingers stilling around the thin thread he’d been twirling for the past minutes. Taehyun looks at you, but you can tell he’s not actually looking at you. 

“What do you mean?” It takes him almost a whole minute to reply. That had never happened before. Holding your tongue, you consider your next words carefully. You’d been wanting to ask him about that day in the hallway for so long now, it had been pestering you for weeks, like an itch you couldn’t quite scratch. Because if it was one thing you couldn’t understand, it was why someone like Taehyun, would do something like that, for someone like Beomgyu. 

“Does he have something on you? Is he bullying you?” 

Taehyun shakes his head, his jaw clenching as he discards the thread between his fingers. “No”, he finally states, his voice firm. He was lying. He had to be, right? — “Then why?” You knew you were pushing far, too far, but you wanted, no, needed answers. But he only averts his gaze, his attention fixed on something far ahead. You try to follow his line of sight, your own eyes landing on the crowded bookshelves. 

Books. Your lip twitches at the sight of pages worth of study material. But as you survey the shelves closely, you find that they’re neatly organised, unlike the chaos that spread through the rest of the house. From different subjects, all neatly categorized, yet one book remained alone, separated from the rest. You didn’t recognize its cover. 

“Latin.” 

Taehyun’s thoughts seem to align perfectly with yours as he, too, eyes the lonesome book. “I didn’t know you took latin..” You murmur, still not tearing your gaze from the shelf. Beside you, Taehyun hums before going silent once more. That silence lingers for another thick and heavy minute. The darkness of his living room closing in on you, the sounds of your quiet breaths remaining the only signs of life. 

“Hardly anyone picks latin”, he then adds, nodding toward the book on the very edge of the shelf. You nod, even though you don’t exactly understand where he’s going with this. Taehyun sighs, and he sounds tired, “Picked it ‘cause I felt bad.” — “The professor would hardly have a class to teach this semester if it wasn’t for me.” 

You frown, shifting back to him as your lips part in an unspoken question. But Taehyun doesn’t need to look at you to know what goes on inside your head. — He shrugs, “You asked me why.” 

The silence that follows his last words did not feel as heavy as the others. It merely felt…confusing. Your gaze drops to your hands, placed neatly on your lap. Exhaling through your nose, you begin picking away at your already chipped nail polish, watching as the red flakes fell to your knees. Latin… He picked it out of pity? Not because he enjoyed it but because he felt bad? 

But what did Latin have to do with… 

“Did you want to do it?” Taehyun suddenly asks, and it felt weird, because he hardly asked questions about you, and especially not about Beomgyu. — The lump in your throat bounces back twice as big this time, and your fingers still. “Yes.” If there was one thing you were sure of, it was that. You wanted to kiss Choi Beomgyu, and you had.

“I don’t…” You begin but quickly trail off. Taehyun is patient. He waits for you to continue, he waits for two whole minutes, until finally, you say: “I don’t regret it.” — “And I wish I could tell him that.” 

Taehyun shifts on the green cushion, turning so that he’s now facing you. His gaze isn’t the narrowed and sharp one you’d grown so accustomed to. This one’s gentle, almost soft. — “So why haven’t you?” 

⸝⸝

“What the fuck is your problem?” 

The voice is sharp, and you think you might recognize it. It makes you halt, stopping just as you were about to round the corner taking you to the dormitories. With your back now pressed against the cool wall, you freeze, listening to the conversation taking place. You had mindlessly been returning to the place you called home after a long day of classes, when suddenly two arguing voices caught your attention. 

“My problem?”, Beomgyu spits, his tone harsh and defensive, “Fucking hell man, have you even seen yourself lately?” 

The other voice, which you now recognize as Yeonjun's, cuts back with an equal bite. “Oh come on, just admit that you have something against her. – It’s not like you’ve ever tried to hide it.”

Beomgyu remains quiet, the air feeling dense and heavy with unspoken feelings. “I don’t have anything against her.” He pauses and you wonder what his face might look like right now, furious, deflated? He exhales, “It’s you, okay? You’re the issue here.” 

You could almost hear the surprise as it radiated off of Yeonjun, and you manage to get a glimpse of one of his arms as he shifts on the spot. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” He sounds confused, agitated almost. 

“It means..” Beomgyu begins, though quickly cutting himself short as he inhales. “It means you’ve changed, alright. — And I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you but you..” He trails off, the frustration at not being able to say what he wants, what he feels, is palpable and you shift uncomfortably against the wall as you hold your breath. 

Yeonjun scoffs, it sounds almost like laughter. “Oh, so I get a girlfriend and suddenly can’t hang anymore?” — “Yes.” Beomgyu immediately responds. “You and that fucking good for nothing ner-” 

Thud. 

It sounds almost as if one of them had shoved the other against the wall and your eyes widened as you resist the urge to take just a single step forward, to round the corner and see for yourself. — Yeonjun is the first to speak. “You fucking watch your mouth!” He snarls and you can make out Beomgyu’s low groan as he splutters against what you presumed to be Yeonjun’s chokehold on him.

“Or what?” He counters in a strained voice, the teasing edge evident, the one he used to mask how hurt he was.

The sound of Yeonjun’s fist connecting with what could only be Beomgyu’s face echoes through the otherwise empty hallway and your heart drops to your stomach. But Beomgyu merely chuckles. “She ruined everything”, he grumbles, merely adding fuel to the fire. 

“Shut your mouth.” 

Beomgyu snickers, and Yeonjun’s frustration bounces off the walls. You’d heard enough, and you certainly weren’t going to risk staying and ending up in the middle of it. So you turn around, and just as quickly as you had come, you retreat again. 

⸝⸝ 

You nervously pace your room, mumbling the words to yourself over and over, trying your hardest to memorize them. It had dawned on you that you would be doing this alone, and now what remained was to learn everything. But no matter how many times you circled your bed, you always found yourself off track, needing to double check your laptop over and over. 

You were slowly becoming desperate. Nothing seemed to work in your favor. — You curse yourself for letting your feelings get the better of you. For being naive, for thinking that he actually felt something, anything for you. Had you just restrained yourself, had you just held back… You wouldn’t be in this situation right now. 

Anxiously gnawing on your nails, your teeth scrape their beds as you re-read the paragraphs written on the powerpoint for the fifthteenth time. The sentences had started to blur, the words merging with one another slowly. — You shake your head, willing yourself to stay focused, to not let your emotions get the better of you, again. 

But then there it is. A loud, almost frantic, knock at your door. — Knock! Knock! 

Your head jerks in its direction, the presentation long forgotten about as your eyes narrow on the dark oak. You throw a glance at the time, 8:29 pm, what could anyone possibly want you at this hour? — But the knocking persists. 

Knock! Knock! Knock! 

It’s loud, flaring like thunder through your dormitory and it makes you jump. Naturally, you do the only thing that comes to mind; you approach, with both curious and wary steps. Your hesitant hand reaches for the handle, the other one twisting the lock as you pull the door open. — The sight that greets you on the other side is nothing you could’ve ever imagined. 

Beomgyu looks even worse than he had a week ago. The bags under his eyes were a permanent look now, dark and sunken in. His long hair falls in uneven sections down the sides of his face, a few strands sticking to his forehead, covered in a sheen layer of sweat. Even his expensive uniform was messed up, tie hanging loosely around his neck and his white shirt torn by the seams. 

You can only make out half his face, the rest shielded by his unkempt and dark hair. But what stood out was the large and angry bruise covering his cheek. Its blue and purple hues were a stark contrast to his honey-like skin. You knew where he’d gotten that. His breaths come out ragged, shallow, like he’d ran here. Perhaps he had. Your lips part, but before you can get the question out, he’s barging inside, slamming the door shut behind him. — “Beomgyu what..” Your words fall short as he pushes his hair from his face, revealing his dark eyes to you. 

They were burning with the same fire they had been that night, the night you kissed him. The flames dance across his bottomless irises. You think that if you got too close, you’d end up burning yourself. Another part of you thinks it’s too late to take cover. That you had already walked inside and sealed the door shut behind you, and now you would burn with him. 

He takes a step forward, the fire drawing in closer and you squint against its flames. His chest heaves, it clouds your narrowed vision as he backs you up against the nearest wall. Something had happened, something had made him like this, because this was not the Beomgyu you knew. The Beomgyu you knew would be repulsed to even as much as near you, to even breathe the same circuit of air as you. 

He is not the Beomgyu you know. Because the Beomgyu you know would never kiss you. 

But this one does, and it’s without hesitating that his hands reach for your face, cupping both cheeks in his blazing hot palms as he brings your face to his. — Your eyes widen, alarm bells going off in your mind, screaming for you to push him back, to demand answers from him. So why don’t you? Why do you let him kiss you, why do you let him toy with you like this? 

Beomgyu did not like you. He hated you. That was a fact. Not because he’d said so himself, or because he treated you like he did. But because it was the reality you had been feeding yourself for so long. It put you at ease, knowing that he hated you, because if he did, then he at least felt something for you. You weren’t just another face in the halls, your time together wasn’t just a figment of his or your imagination, it had been real. The two of you were real, and the resentment and hate was a confirmation of just that. 

So when his lips press against yours, warm and wet, his tongue slips inside your mouth without waiting to hear your startled yelp.. The reality you had built for yourself suddenly starts to crumble. Everything was wrong, this was not how it was supposed to be. — You had allowed yourself a slip up last week, a moment of weakness. You had kissed him. For a brief, short and awfully painful moment you had let your own desires consume you. And you had paid the price. 

This time Beomgyu was acting on his desires, not yours. And that scared you. 

His chest is flush against yours, his grip on your face unwavering as he forces your lips to meet in a searing kiss. You don’t understand. You thought you had him all figured out, this wasn’t supposed to happen, why is he… — “Beomgyu, stop!” Your nails dig into his shoulders, tearing him off of you with all your might. He separates from you, if only an inch, the kiss coming to an abrupt stop as you’re left panting. 

His lips are coated in saliva, a small string connecting the two of you before it breaks just a second later. You barely recognize him. “What’s going on?” The question is accusing, your voice laced with confusion and anger. 

Beomgyu remains silent, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he exhales a final heavy breath. His jaw clenches when he swallows, and his dark eyes flicker down to your lips once more. — “Shut up.” It’s all he says, but there’s no malice in the way he does. It sounds almost like a plea. And the fire within his eyes seems to burn even brighter as his gaze meets yours. “Please just shut up.” 

You did not want to shut up. You wanted to ask what the fuck he thought he was doing. You wanted to show him just how it felt when he rejected you just days prior. You wanted to tell him that he was ‘fucking insane’ and slam the door shut in his own face. — You did none of that. 

The next kiss is initiated by you, not him. It’s soft, and it reminds you of the one you’d given him last week. Slow, hesitant, but tender. And Beomgyu’s hands reluctantly drop from your face, gently sliding down your arms and sides before settling on your waist. — You had known for a long time now that you felt empathy for him. That you pitied him. Perhaps it was why you let him use you. 

Tomorrow he would not speak of this. He would act as if it never happened, he would bury it as deep as he could. He might think that this is his only solution today, that this will be his solace for whatever might’ve set him off. But it isn’t, and when this night morphs into dawn, he will realize that. — You don’t want him to. 

You should tell him to stop right now. He’ll only end up hurting you, not that he cares, he never had. But you, you should care. So why don’t you? 

Your fingers tug his already loose tie off, letting it slip from his neck before you work on his shirt, hastily unbuttoning it. Beomgyu follows in your tracks, letting you shrug the torn garment from his shoulders before he reaches for the pajama pants you wore. — You stop him, your hand on his wrist. “On the bed, please”, you whisper against his lips. 

His nod is barely noticeable before he hoists you into his arms. The sudden action startles you and you cling to him in shock as he gently places you down onto the mattress. He just about bothers to shove your laptop to the floor, muttering something incoherent about being able to get you a new one if it broke. You can’t find it in you to care, not when he climbs on top of you, the bed squeaking beneath his weight as he does. 

You feel warm, fuzzy, intoxicated even. Bleary eyes finding his as he hurriedly presses his lips against yours again. It was almost as if he was trying to drown out whatever thoughts plagued his mind as his hands grabbed at whatever part of you he could access. — His fingers hook around the waistline of your pajama pants, attempting to tug them off once more, and this time he succeeds. 

The air of your dormitory is cool against your naked skin, causing goosebumps to flare across it as Beomgyu slides your clothes down your body. He was moving fast, almost too fast. For some reason you let him, even though you know you probably shouldn’t. He was being selfish right now, wasn’t he? Using you like this, only to quiet his own worries, to soothe his own pain. He didn’t care for your feelings and he never would, not even now as his hands hover above your panties, fingers tracing their lining with eagerness. 

Or perhaps you were the selfish one? He clearly wasn’t thinking straight. The Beomgyu you knew would never stoop to this level, he would never go for someone like you, and you would never allow it.. Right? — Were you selfish for using him in this state, for egging him on even when you knew that the two of you were to regret this in the morning? 

Maybe. 

You don’t care. 

His fingers slide beneath the fabric of your pantines, running between your folds, circling your clit once as he pulls a shaky gasp from you. Your hands are still gripping his shoulders, nails digging into the skin there, leaving crescent like shapes in their wake. — He doesn’t wait, doesn’t drag the process out. You can tell that his mind is set on one thing. That’s okay, so were yours. Right? 

You cry out when he pushes two fingers inside of your aching cunt, curling them meticulously as his lips trail down your jaw. Your hips arch off the bed, meeting his movements as you wordlessly beg for more. — “Beomgyu, we… we should..” You didn’t even know what you wanted to say, the feelings swirling within your chest were difficult to convey. 

But he won’t have a word of it. “Shut up”, he grunts, the palm of his free hand pressing against your pelvis as he shoves you back against the mattress. He’s rough, surprisingly so. You’d always taken him for a little bitch. But his strength startles you, as well as sending a shot of heat through your stomach, making you clench around his fingers. 

If he notices it, he doesn’t bother to comment, which is unusual for him. Something bad must’ve happened, that’s all you can think. Something so bad had happened that his only resolve was you. The thought of him using you to get over whatever had hurt, it should upset you. It should make you feel small and insignificant, but it never did. 

Beomgyu tugs your panties down, throwing them over his shoulder as he parts your already spread legs. — Your hands glide over the apex of his shoulders, and you blink up at him expectantly. He doesn’t return your gaze. That hurt. 

Instead he focuses on the zipper of his uniform pants, undoing it with a harsh tug before slipping hand down his pants. His low groan pierces the thick and hot air, the sound is one so sinful, one you could have never imagined coming from his lips. — Your eyes dart down to his cock when he pulls it free, tongue subconsciously darting out to wet your lips as you regard the way he languidly strokes himself.

“Touch yourself”, he says, his voice low and gruff as he eyes your dripping cunt. — Surprised, you hesitantly comply as you reach a hand down between your thighs, fingers experimentally dragging across your core. The small moan that slips off your tongue makes your face heat up as you avoid his gaze. 

You push two fingers inside of your pleading cunt, not even bothering to put on a show for him as you let yourself become immersed in how it feels, how good it feels. In fact everything felt good, a little too good, when you know it shouldn’t. — You watch him through the corner of your eye, catching the bead of precum that slid down his veiny shaft. And your stomach flutters uncontrollably when he squeezes around himself, letting his head tip back with a strained moan.

When he’s evidently had enough, he pushes your hand away, ignoring your cries as you lose any semblance of pleasure. Though your loss is soon replaced by the head of his cock as he slides it between your folds. It bumps against your clit, making you shudder as your fingers twist in the bed sheets. — Your lips part, but Beomgyu’s hand covers them again. 

“Don’t.” He grunts, his attention focused on the way his thick cock gently eases itself inside your warm cunt. Your eyes widen, a small and muffled noise of pleasure leaving you as you squirm beneath him. — “Don’t say anything”, he nearly pleads, his dark and burning gaze flickering to your face for a brief moment. 

Your chest contracts, you didn’t understand.. Yet you complied, sealing your lips off to anything that wasn’t a cry or a moan. — Beomgyu’s pace is rough, leaving no room for you to argue as he snaps his hips against yours. The bed frame rattles against your wall, and you briefly worried that the sound would carry into the next room. Beomgyu doesn’t seem to care. 

His hand slides off of your lips, resting on the mattress just inches from your face as he hovers above you. — Stifling a small whimper, you reach up to touch him, any part of him that you could. This was your chance, no? 

You can feel every twitch of muscle as you drag your fingertips along his arms, letting your hands glide across his tense shoulders. Beomgyu shudders when you reach the nape of his neck. — He complies when you pull him down for another kiss. This one starts out slower, but quickly morphs into something that could easily match the pace he was keeping. His teeth pull your bottom lip into his mouth, biting down with a force that startles you, a surprised moan ripping from your throat. 

He made you feel nearly delirious, like you didn’t exist, nothing felt real. But at the same time, you could feel everything at once. He was so close, closer than he'd ever been to you. Not even back then, back when you considered him your friend. Not even then did it feel like this.. Raw, scorching hot, burning and most importantly, alive. 

Your chest is already hurting, already mourning the loss of him that was to come. Why couldn’t you just allow yourself to live in the moment, to give in to your desires completely, even if they were beyond what you knew to be possible. This was real, he was here, with you. For now, for tonight, everything was different, and you should let it be just that. 

“I love you.” 

The confession slips past your lips. It carries out into the dim room, bouncing off the walls, ringing in your ears and pounding against your ribcage. Beomgyu stills inside of you, his dark eyes immediately landing on yours as they narrow. — Fuck. You shouldn’t have said that. Did you even mean it? Or had you let your flimsy emotions get the better of you once again. 

But this wasn’t just a small peck on the lips. Something you could pull back from, something you could wipe off your mouth and forget about. This was you baring your heart to him. This was you showing your most vulnerable self. — This was you being selfish. 

Beomgyu’s face twists into a scowl, the way it did whenever he tried to mask how hurt he was. Because that’s what he was tonight. Hurt. It’s why he’d come here. To use you. To let himself forget. He’d begged you to be quiet. — And you had done the exact opposite. 

“You don’t.” His statement is cold, and it sends a shiver down your spine. “You don’t know what you’re saying”, he grunts. And his expression hardens when you insistently shake your head. 

“I do”, your lips press into a thin line, determination flickering across your features. That was a lie. You did not know if you loved him. But you knew that you pitied him, that your heart ached for him. It was like every punch to his gut went straight to your heart. — Perhaps the hurt was so strong that you had confused it with love. Maybe your empathy for him got mistaken for real feelings in your mind.  

How should you know? It wasn’t like you’d ever felt it before. 

And he hadn’t either. You were sure of it. 

“I know what I’m..” — “I said you don’t know anything!” Beomgyu’s voice cuts you off, it sounds like a scream. Ear-piercing and deafening. Beomgyu was yelling at you. And it scared you. 

He shifts above you, elbows digging into the mattress and you suddenly remember that his throbbing cock is nestled within your cunt. You think he might pull back, that he will get up and leave. That’s what he should do. But he doesn’t. — Instead he jolts back into action, snapping his hips against yours with newfound force, his jaw clenching as his dark eyes bore into you. 

“You’re confused”, he jeers, and you choke back a wanton moan when his thumb circles your clit. “Lot of girls get confused when they’re stuffed with cock”, he scoffs, “And you’re no different.” — Beomgyu was back to his old self, the cruel and menacing one. The Beomgyu that fronted whenever he tried to hide his true feelings, when the real him was feeling weak. You should’ve seen it coming, really. But his words still hurt, they always did. 

He rams himself into you, making your thighs quiver as they meekly wrap around his chest, drawing him even closer. You screw your eyes shut, not wanting to see him for as much as another second. He doesn’t seem to care, in fact he hardly seems to care about anything at the very moment. 

His fingers are harsh against your clit as he drinks in every moan you emit. And when you finally finish around his cock, your cunt fluttering around him, he doesn’t say anything. You pant, still refusing to look at him as you catch your breath. His thick cock makes you wince as it continues to push into you with demand. 

Beomgyu pulls out wordlessly. Hissing out into the quiet air as he cums all over your spread thighs, his sharp intake of air pounding in your ears. His release is warm, a sickening contrast to the cold sweats that had broken out on your body. It nearly makes you shiver. 

A new kind of silence follows after that. One full of knowing. Because you both knew that what had transpired tonight, was not something you would ever talk about again. The unanswered questions would never be brought to discussion. And you were supposed to be okay with that. You were supposed to be okay with this. 

You don’t know if you ever will be. 

���⸝ 

The bed was empty that following morning. The only trace of Beomgyu were the rustled sheets where he’d slept. And you spent nearly an hour tracing their patterns with the tips of your fingers, following every crease of duvet carefully as you memorized the shape of him. 

You knew that this was how it was going to end, as nothing more but yet another mistake. Another reason for him to hate you, and you him. Which is why you shouldn’t feel this melancholic. He sure as hell wasn’t. So why should you suffer? Yet it takes everything in you to drag yourself out of bed that day. 

The water is scorching hot against your skin, and you lean against the cool tiles as you close your eyes. But no matter how hard you scrubbed, how many layers of soap you covered yourself beneath. The feeling of his hands never went away. You almost thought you could see them, the faint outlines of his hands, all over your body. And as soon as you let your mind wander, even for just a second, you could feel him on you again. 

With a shudder you shake your head, promptly turning the water from flaming hot to an icy cold. The warmth reminded you of him, of the fire in his eyes and the burn of his touch. Cold water did not remind you of anything, that was better. 

Part of you had thought, almost hoped, that he would come to you, that he would beg of you to keep quiet, to not utter a single word about the night that had been. But he never did. Presentation day comes, and it passes again. It wasn’t very dramatic, in fact, it was like nothing had changed at all. 

Beomgyu showed up. He didn’t look you in the eyes when he took his papers from you. He didn’t look at you during the presentation, he kept his gaze ahead, fixated on the rest of your joint classes. He didn’t speak to you before, during, or after it. Not even a simple, ‘well done’ or even a ‘thanks’ when you’d offered to take his papers and throw them away for him. 

His indifference hurt the most. Perhaps the night had meant nothing to him. It had been just as you suspected, a way for him to forget. Forget whatever it was that had happened with Yeonjun that afternoon. — It had worked. Beomgyu seemed to have forgotten, but you remembered, you remembered far too much. 

Winter break began a mere three days later. 

A different kind of excitement lingered in the air. No matter how old you got, the joy of Christmas never seemed to dull people’s spirits. Almost three weeks to spend with family and friends, three weeks away from the tortuous hell that was college. Except you would stay right where you were. 

This would be the third Christmas you spent on campus. And while the school offered the remaining students to gather in the cafeteria for present unwrapping and long movie marathons, it was never the same as the warm embrace of home. — But home has long since lost its meaning to you. And Christmas no longer felt like a holiday. 

Taehyun had left as well, leaving you with nothing but your own thoughts to reconcile with. Suppose it was during the holidays you realized just how lonely you were. That hurt, of course. — You would spend your days doing mundane things, like reading, writing, drawing… Anything to get your mind off of the almost depressing reality you faced. It usually only worked for an hour or so. It was like a constant loop of distraction, one where you chased the comfort that slowly slipped from your fingers. 

But you were tired of chasing. 

⸝⸝

Your worn out sneakers make an awful squeaking noise against the polished floors and the sound rings in your ears. It’s all you can hear, which serves to quiet your thoughts for a moment, proving to be quite the distraction. 

The long hallways are eerily empty and quiet, it gives them an almost uncanny feeling. Campus no longer felt like campus, more like a shell of its former self. You knew that it would change as soon as break was over of course, but for now you were forced to make your way down the vacant halls all alone in order to get to the cafeteria and have dinner. 

It was for these exact reasons that the sudden tap to your shoulder made your heart drop. 

With a quick spin of your heel, you come face to face with the person you’d least expected to see. — His dark hair is nicely done, and his eyes glimmer with a kindness that two months ago would have had you doing a double take. Snow had melted on the shoulders of his jacket, and the tip of his nose was a bright red. An almost gentle smile is splayed across his rosy lips, and he gives a nervous chuckle. You almost didn’t recognize Choi Yeonjun. 

“Hey uh..” He scratches the back of his neck rather awkwardly, his eyes darting around the empty hallway. “You don’t happen to know if there’s someone with keys to classroom 017? - My girl forgot one of her books in there before the break you see..”  — You remain silent. You don’t think you’d ever had a decent conversation with Yeonjun, ever. It had all been mean and crude comments, nasty smirks and awfully childish pranks where you became a laughing stock. 

So to say that it felt a little weird to be approached by him like this, well that would certainly classify as an understatement. Your first instinct was to walk away, to leave him hanging like he deserved or perhaps you should belittle him on his obliviousness, did he not know all keys were held in the lobby? You refused an eye roll. — For the first time since your night with Beomgyu, a different kind of emotion blossoms within your chest. 

Anger. 

Your mind easily recognizes Yeonjun as the one who’d taken Beomgyu from you two years ago. It was him who you’d blamed for the way Beomgyu turned out, it was him who was at fault. It was him… He… 

You swallow, giving him a small nod, “Think there should be someone up by the lobby.” The polite words sting on your tongue, your fingers itching as they clenched and unclened. Yeonjun on the other hand, smiles, his grin stretching wide as he thanks you. What had changed? 

“I best head there then.” With his hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his jeans, he turns and begins his journey down the lifeless corridor. You watch him, eyes trailing over his figure for a moment before you call out. — “Hey, wait!” 

He pauses, turning back to you with raised brows. You march forward without giving yourself the chance to think it over once more. The sounds of you sneakers squeaking against the floors becomes almost deafening but you disregard it as you come to a halt before him. Straightening yourself up, you hold his confused but intrigued gaze. 

“You were friends with Beomgyu, right?” It wasn’t a question, but you phrased it like one anyway. The smile immediately falls from his face upon hearing your words, and for a split second, the old Yeonjun, the face you recognized in the halls fronted. His lips twist into a small scowl and his dark brows furrow. “What’s it to you?” His voice had grown sharp, almost snappy, perhaps you’d hit a sore spot. 

Something had happened. 

Yeonjun studies you for a moment longer, his brown eyes drinking in your frame. His tongue prods against the inside of his cheek, and he looks almost thoughtful. Then he huffs a short breath, it sounded almost like a laugh. — “Oh, yeah that’s right. I know who you are.” He stated it like it was an insult, like your name weighed heavy, and for all the wrong reasons. 

You can feel the confusion evolve on your face, he can too. “Why, I bet he’s told you everything. Bet he came running to you like a bitch.” Yeonjun’s menacing sneer is far from unfamiliar and your chest twists at his words. What was that supposed to mean? — “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It was true. You had no idea what had happened between the two of them. 

It’s silent for a moment, and Yeonjun studies you closely, as if searching for lies. When he finds none his shoulders visibly relax. He lets out a short breath, averting his gaze, as if the confrontation of the subject made him uncomfortable. — “He’s an immature bitch, what do you want me to say?” He doesn’t hesitate as his eyes snap back to you, this time with something akin to fury. 

“Couldn’t accept my girl so why should I accept him. – But come on now, he’s told you that already.” 

You don’t answer. Your fingers nervously fiddles with one another as your hands rest by your sides. What was he talking about? What was there for you to know. — Your silence seems to make the pieces fall together in his mind, finally assembling a large puzzle and Yeonjun’s face lights up. “Oh shit”, he huffs, “He hasn’t told you anything at all.” It’s a statement, one that makes your heart drop. 

He runs a hand through his dark hair, a near sinister grin playing on his lips. “Fucking hell.” — He glances down the hall, which was ironic considering how blatantly vacant it was, then he turns back to you. “I thought– I mean I”, interrupting himself only to clear his throat, Yeonjun looks to be fighting back yet another laugh. “I mean I thought you guys were…” 

Shaking his head, he drags the flat of his palm across half his face. “Fuck, I guess not. That’s sad. Really.” — You want to object, tell him that whatever assumption he was currently making was wrong. You wanted to tell him that you and Beomgyu were exactly that. But that would be a lie. And you’d had enough of those. 

“Do you not miss him?” 

The question takes him by surprise, and Yeonjun pauses as he glances back at you. For a moment he looks offended, taken aback by your bluntness. His lips curl into a small scowl, the one he used to wear in the halls, not anymore though, now it was reserved for only one person, Beomgyu. — “Don’t think that’s any of your business, no? – I mean you guys aren’t even..” He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth in a disappointing manner. 

“Just stay in your own lane”, he then adds, giving you a quick one over. “You’re better off without him anyway. – He’ll only bring you down with him.” 

Without another word, Yeonjun walks away. And you don’t stop him. For some reason, his words hurt. They were never directly targeted your way, so why did it hurt to hear him talk bad about Beomgyu? — Why did you feel the need to take on his pain as well, why did you feel the need to carry a burden that was never yours. 

The walk to the cafeteria feels even heavier than usual, and you barely get any food down that evening. 

⸝⸝

The days sort of blend together when you have nothing to do. They’re rolling on a loop, one after the other, and each one would follow the same mundane pattern. With only a day to spare before Christmas, you finally drag yourself off campus grounds, determined to at least make an attempt at lifting your spirits. 

Stores are beyond crowded, and you get shoved left and right as you swim your way through the large masses. God, had none of these people done their Christmas shopping with at least a little margin? — Supposedly not. 

You didn’t know what you wanted, hardly anything seemed to catch your eye. Still, you scour the near empty racks, even when nothing appeals. A small cry to your right diverts your attention in said direction where a young girl clings to her mom. — “I want this one!” She whines, her tiny feet stomping against the hard ground. Her mom sighs but eventually complies, shoving yet another toy in their already full cart. She looked exhausted.   

Your gaze lingers on the tired moms who rushed about with bags stuffed full, on the dads who checked off lists, on the workers who wiped sweat from their forehead as they tried to get through the long line of customers waiting to pay. 

All this commotion for a single day of the year. As much as the thought itself made you want to snort, there was also an undeniable sense of longing that filled your chest. You, too, wanted to rush about, you wanted to have to worry about what to get people for Christmas. You wanted to stay up late and wrap presents, you wanted to see the joy on their faces, hear their laughs. 

You didn't want to be alone. 

Walking was nice. But it becomes tiresome after a while. With your coat wrapped snugly around your body, you stroll the campus grounds absentmindedly. The cold air made your nose freeze and your cheeks sting, but you refused to return to your dorm just yet. There was something so comforting about being swallowed by the shivers running down your spine, or perhaps it was just numbing, like medicine, only it would never cure you. 

The frosty grass crunches beneath the sole of your shoes, and you trudge forward with heavy steps. There was but a thin and crisp layer of snow, one that could be erased with the swipe of your foot. So much for a white Christmas, you thought with a bitter scoff. — Your fingers are on the verge of falling off, but you clutch the small bag in your hand anyway, swinging it back and forth in tune with your casual strides. 

You pass a most familiar bench, now coated in a thin blanket of white but undoubtedly the same. Without thinking twice you come to a halt, feet melting into the ground as they force you in place. Furrowed brows press against your narrowed eyes as you peer over at the very same spot where you had seen Beomgyu sitting not long ago, all by himself. 

Everything seemed to remind you of him, even when all you wanted was to forget his mere existence. You look away, blinking the hurt from your eyes as you glance toward the entrance leading back inside, leading to warmth and to safety. You should go, you should go there now. But it’s impossible to get yourself to move forward, your legs refuse to carry you and you feel your knees buckle. 

With one harsh shake of your head you pull yourself from the small trance. And finally you move, but it is not the entrance you approach. — The old bench squeaks under your weight, and with the help of a gloved hand you dust the worst snow off. 

Sigh. Everything looked different now, yet it was as though nothing had changed. You close your eyes, and for a second you could almost imagine him as he sat beside you, sharing a laugh and perhaps even melting the cold away with your hand in his. The image pains you just as much as it warms you. 

Had it not been for the cold, the moment out on the bench might have even been tranquil. But the harsh winds soared through your body, chilling you to your core as it forced you to huddle in on yourself. You suck in a sharp breath, the cold air slicing down your throat as you force your almost numb lips together. 

Arms wrapped around yourself and fingers digging into your forearms, you’re so busy keeping the cold out that it takes you almost a whole minute to recognize the soft patter of frozen grass crunching beneath feet. But when the sound does reach your ears, your head jerks in its direction. 

There, on the other side of the once grassy field, without as much as a uniform or school bag in sight, is Beomgyu. You’re taken aback by his casual appearance, much so that you almost completely disregard his even more unusual visit. But only almost. — What was he doing here? He had a lot of people to spend Christmas with, no? What business did he have on campus? 

You shift on the old bench, the squeaking noise of the wood however, catches his attention. You swallow when his dark eyes find yours, even from across the field. For a split second you think that he might just keep on walking, to continue his act of nonchalance, as if nothing had ever happened between the two of you, and that you were crazy for even suggesting such a thing. 

But Beomgyu’s gaze doesn’t harden, nor does it lessen. In fact his expression remains completely impassive, though his actions speak for him. He puts one foot before the other, and it’s not until he’s gotten about halfway across the field that you realize where he’s headed. Your stomach drops as you watch him push his hands into the pockets of his jeans, his shoulders slumped as he approaches. Your gaze flickers to the bag in your hands, swallowing nervously as you tune in to the sound of his footsteps nearing. 

Beomgyu doesn’t say anything when he sits down beside you, and you listen to the squeaking noise the bench makes in protest to yet another element of weight. You peer at him through the corner of your eye. His hair was shorter, the dark strands no longer reached the nape of his neck but stopped just below his ear. Even the bruise on his face had begun to fade, now it was a mere light purple, with splotches of red coating its edges. Lastly, the tip of his nose, which was an uncharacteristic shade of pink, one you found to be almost endearing. 

Your attention travels to the clothes he wore, the jacket looked expensive, undoubtedly more than you could afford even if you saved all your money’s worth. Funnily enough, he doesn’t seem to care for it as his fingers lazily pick at its seams. Beomgyu took a lot of things for granted, you could tell. — Things you could only dream about. 

The silence surrounding you is thick, hugging you tight and keeping you from moving. Your lips part as you attempt to break said silence, despite how dry your throat feels. Beomgyu however, is quicker than you as he heaves a sigh. 

“Why are you out here?” He asks, his gaze still fixed far ahead as his fingers give his jacket a small break. You had expected a ‘hello’ perhaps even a ‘how are you?’, maybe you would even have been content with a sharp glare or a ‘fuck off’. But Beomgyu leads the conversation in a completely different direction. 

When your silence becomes deafening he turns to you. His eyes are filled with something you can’t quite place, something unlike his usual self. He searches your face, as though looking for clues with the help of a magnifying glass. “It’s cold”, he then adds, as if the obvious could not have been made any clearer. 

You scoff, shaking your head as you fiddle with the bag in your hands. “I’m dressed for it”, you mutter without looking at him. Beomgyu hums, and for a second it sounds as though he’s about to say something else, only to stop himself. — The thick silence returns, this time it feels almost claustrophobic. You wanted to ask him about that night, you wanted to ask him about Yeonjun, you wanted to ask him about the two of you, you wanted to ask him…

“Why are you out here?” Your quiet whisper is nearly swallowed by the whirling wind but Beomgyu manages to catch it as his attention jumps from the naked trees and back to you. There were a thousand thoughts swimming within his eyes, things that were just waiting to be said. So why didn’t he? 

“It’s Christmas”, you add, watching as his lip twitches in amusement. — You could not remember the last time you’d made Beomgyu laugh. He shakes his head, tongue prodding against his cheek. “It is”, he nods in agreement, his gaze dropping to the bag clutched in your hands. “Present?” He asks to which you slowly nod. 

Pulling your lip between your teeth, you exhale a deflated sigh, “A stupid one.” You didn’t want to admit that you had bought it for yourself, considering the fact that it would be the only gift you were to receive this year, again. It’s quiet after that and you desperately hoped he would drop the subject again. 

Beomgyu shrugs, “Isn’t that the whole point of Christmas?” When you only frown, he continues, “I mean, wrapping things up and giving them away.” He scoffs as he runs a hand through his dark hair, “Using gifts as condolences, it’s quite materialistic don’t you think?” 

You wanted to argue that it was not, but as your gaze flickers over the expensive clothes he wore, you realized that he didn't seem even a tad grateful for them. Perhaps they had been just that, condolences. — Your thoughts are interrupted by Beomgyu as he shifts on the bench and his hand reaches into the pocket of his coat. 

“I’m not much better”, he murmurs when pulling out a small box. It fit perfectly in his palm, enveloped in silver wrapping with a tiny bow on top. You eye the tiny present with intrigue, your stomach flipping at the sight. — He inhales sharply as he twists the box between his fingers. “Reflecting, repenting all that bullshit..” He mumbles as his brown eyes meet yours, “Suppose that’s what I’m trying to do here.”

Confused, you open your mouth to speak but before you can get as much as a word out, he hands you the gift. His eyes look near pleading as he silently begs for you to accept it, as if it would mean you accepted his apology. Perhaps it would take the guilt off his shoulders if you did. — The frown on your face only grows, but you set your own bag down before reaching a hesitant hand out to grasp the present. 

It feels light in your palm, almost weightless. “Open it”, Beomgyu encourages beside you, his warm breath ghosts across your cheek and you hadn’t even realized just how close he was. — Shrugging your mitten off, your free hand carefully plucks the lid from its container. You can feel his gaze on you, watching intently as you gently tug the rustling paper aside. 

Your breath catches in your throat and your eyes widen tenfold when they fall on the familiar piece of leather. It was the same warm brown, and the contrastingly dark navy blue. The bracelet which you had cherished for so long, the one you had clung onto in the hopes that his matching part would still exist somewhere. 

“I…” You breathlessly begin but Beomgyu quickly cuts you off. “I.. I’m sorry, yeah, that’s what I was…”, he trails off, shrugging as he averts his gaze sheepishly. It’s weird to see him like that, it reminds you of a time long ago, a time before everything. 

The reality of his words slowly sank in, Beomgyu was apologizing. 

You had spent countless sleepless nights, tossing and turning in bed as you prayed and hoped for a time like this. Was it selfish for you to wish for things to be the way they had been? You wanted to bring back someone who no longer existed, a version of him that was but a mere memory, remembered and kept alive only by you. 

Yet here he is, doing just as you had hoped, and for so long. But you hate Choi Beomgyu now. That was a fact. And he hated you too. So this didn’t make sense, no, it wasn’t right. He shouldn’t be apologizing. He should have brushed it off, acted as if nothing had ever happened and given you a shoulder cold enough to bring back the ice age. 

“This is wrong.. — I mean, you can’t just-” Biting back a frustrated groan, you twist uncomfortably in your seat as you avoid his reluctant gaze. You can sense his confusion, and it only fuels your frustration. Did he not understand that he couldn’t just undo everything with a simple ‘sorry’ and a gift. 

Beomgyu swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing against his throat. “What?” He asks, his gaze dropping to the untouched gift still in your hands, “Do you not like it? — I can get you something else.” 

You shake your head, “It’s not about the gift, Beomgyu.” — He frowns, “Then what is it?” 

“Everything.” 

You’re looking at him now, your heart hammering in your chest as you fight your nerves. “It’s everything, okay? You, me–” You motion between the two of you, “Yeonjun, the presentation, us.” It wasn’t just something you drew a line over, something you blurred and pushed back in the depths of your mind as you tried to forget it. 

“But, why does any of that matter?” He wonders with a confused frown, his bottom lip slightly jutted out as he regards you with caution. You have to hold back a scoff, your fingers curl around the small box, knuckles turning white as you resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Because it does! You might not get that, but it hurt me.” 

Beomgyu groans as he runs a hand through his short hair. “Fuck, I already apologized what more do you want from me?” His anger matches yours in a way that instantly reminds you of just how bad you could be together, of how deeply he made you feel. — “What difference does it make?” You snap, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill. 

“Everything.” 

“It changes everything, alright?” His chest heaves when he exhales, his eyes flaring with the same fire they had that night, the night when he wasn’t thinking straight. He probably wasn’t right now either. — “Because”, he swallows, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he regains his composure. “Because I don’t know how else to change things.” 

He drags a hand across his face, like he didn’t know what else to do with himself. “You act like I’m the biggest asshole to walk this earth and next thing I know you’re kissing me. It confuses me and it angers me. But even when you’re mean you’re nice, and I hate how it makes me feel. — I hate that it’s you I want to go to when shit goes wrong, and I hate that I did. I hate how you let me use you that night.” 

He’s barely taking breaks to breathe in between sentences, and you catch the subtle flush to his cheeks as he speaks. “I fucking hate the fact that you’re always on my mind, much more do I hate that I never even try to will those thoughts away.” Beomgyu bites his bottom lip, chewing on it for a good five seconds before letting it go as he sneaks a glance your way. “But I…” He sighs as he finally comes to a conclusion after his long battle with himself. — “I don’t hate you. I want to, but I can’t” 

You swallow, your hand still hugged by the mitten feels clammy and sweaty. Your heart races and your mind jumps between his jumbled words with little coherence. You don’t think you’d ever heard him say so many things at once, and certainly not like that. His usual mean and crude self had completely drained from his system and left was a shell of the Beomgyu you thought you knew. 

It was then, you think, that you realized Choi Beomgyu wasn’t so different from you after all. Your gaze drops to the small gift still in your hands. What had once weighed so little now felt heavy in your grasp, like you were holding all of him, all at once. The bracelet fills you with hope, something you’d long since given up on entirely. 

You glance toward him. His jaw is clenched tightly as his narrowed eyes peer ahead, intent on avoiding you it seemed. His apology was complete and total shit, his reasoning even worse. But Beomgyu was quite shit at most things. So were you. — Your gaze lingers on his pink nose, bitten by the cold. Your own nose stings too, for the both of you had been out here far too long. 

In the pale winter air it became clear. Beomgyu was lonely, just as lonely as you. The slump of his shoulders and the defeated look on his face surely matched your own. You imagine how the two of you must look from afar. It would have to be quite a pitiful sight. How could one be lonely in the presence of someone else? Only two jackasses must manage something like that. 

But you didn’t want to be a jackass anymore, and neither did he. — So you shift on the bench, ignoring the squeaking noise it makes as you turn to Beomgyu. “Do you want to watch a movie?” 

⸝⸝

It’s awkward at first. 

The soft rustle of bed sheets, the untouched bowl of popcorn between you, the flimmer coming from the Tv screen as a cheesy romcom movie plays. Beomgyu, who was usually more than at home in your dorm, was now stiffly sitting on his side of the bed, his back straight as he pressed against the headboard. He appeared almost nervous. 

You weren’t faring much better, in fact your hands were dripping sweat as they remained tightly clasped together. Neither of you had touched the large bowl of popcorn, and they had long since gone cold. — Despite the freezing temperatures outside, your small dormitory seemed to be burning up. 

None of you had said a word since the movie began playing, and before that you had been communicating with fast and hushed murmurs as you avoided each other’s gaze. — Never had you imagined that you would be spending Christmas with Beomgyu, much less on the small and squeaking bed in your dorm. 

Did this mean that things were starting to look up between the two of you? 

Your heart practically leaps to your throat when you feel him shift on the mattress. Everytime he moved, even if it was just a mere centimeter, you tensed up. But the dramatic beating of your fluttering heart was only increased when he suddenly appeared even closer to you. His body feels warm, scorching hot inside the already airless room. 

He doesn’t say anything, and when you steal a glance his way, you find him watching the Tv. His expression would be relaxed if it weren't for the subtle twitch of his jaw when he felt your eyes on him. — Your attention drops to his hands, they were placed on the bed either side of him, his fingers moving absentmindedly against the sheets as he fiddled with them. 

Your lips pulled into a small smile, and oh how you had missed smiling. 

Beomgyu frowns when you suddenly climb off the bed, leaving behind an empty spot that radiates your sweet scent. He looked as though he was about to say something, one of his hands reaching out before stopping himself again. — He watches as you reach for the same bag you’d been clutching so tightly out on the bench, the one that had been completely disregarded in the end. 

You clear your throat, standing awkwardly by the edge of the bed as you hold it in two hands. “I…” Your throat feels parched and your lips dry as your tongue wets them, “I want you to have this.” You reach the bag out toward him and Beomgyu's frown only deepens. — “But it’s yours..” He murmurs as his eyes flit between you and the bag in your hands. 

“I want you to have it. — Besides”, you shrug, “You’re not the only one who’s been an idiot here.” 

His brow raises at your words, a small grin tugging at his lips as he gratefully accepts the token of an apology from you. You take the moment of him peering inside the bag to retake your position next to him on the mattress. Eagerly you watch as his frown deepens, only for it to ease up as he realizes what he was looking at. 

“This is..” He begins, one of his hands reaching into the bag as he pulls out the small bracelet. Beomgyu’s jaw slacks as he turns the cool and brown leather in his fingers, thumb caressing the warm and red embroidery. “You…” He cuts himself off, whether that was because he did not know what to say next or did not dare to. 

Your gaze flickers to the small box placed on your bedside table, perhaps you weren’t complete jackasses after all. 

“Why did you…” He swallows, and though he never finished his sentence, the question swirling within his eyes was obvious. — You shrug, nibbling on your bottom lip as you regard the bracelet in his hand. “It just… felt right.” 

There was no other way to explain it. For as you had trudged forward on tired feet, with heavy and droopy eyes, you had stumbled upon the very thing that had haunted you for so long. 

It has been a small stand, hardly making itself known amongst its competitors. The handmade jewelry however, immediately caught your eye. You recognized the leather, eyes widening even further as they caught glimpse of the warm red braided into it. 

Your stomach had dropped, just the way it would on a rollercoaster before its drop. That was undoubtedly the very same bracelet he’d worn, the one that had wrapped around his wrist so delicately, a constant reminder of what you had once lost. 

“That one,” You had said as you pointed to the accessory. Why? Because it felt right. Words would never even come close to describing the pull you felt, the immense need to have it. — But now, as you watch it lay in Beomgyu’s open palm, his lips parted as he regards the very bracelet, you understand perfectly. 

Things were exactly how they were supposed to be. 

Beomgyu’s hand suddenly drops, and he twists in his seat as he turns to you. The touch of his fingers against your cheek makes your eyes widen, the subtle reaction not passing him by unnoticed as a sly grin pulls across his lips. “What are you doing?” Your brows knit together, the soft confusion on your face only amusing him further. 

His breath is warm against your lips as his own hover above them. The tip of his round nose brushes against yours, the small contact sending a jolt of electricity through you. “What I should have done from the start”, he murmurs before pressing his lips to yours. 

⸝⸝

The agonizing noise of violent video games fill the open spaced living room. Continuous shots are fired, easily drowning out the sound of the doorbell. Completely immersed in his game, Yeonjun doesn’t look up until he feels the cushion beneath him shift as somebody takes the seat next to him. He doesn’t turn his head and look, he already knows who it is. 

“How did you get in?” He asks in a somewhat monotone voice, his eyes still glued to the Tv screen in front of him as he taps the controller in his hands. Beomgyu, who occupies the other half of the cough, shrugs as he spreads himself out on the soft furniture, just like he had so many times before. — As though nothing had changed. 

“Your girlfriend let me in”, he simply states as he, too, tunes in on the violent game. Yeonjun on the other hand frowns, his face morphing into confusion as his thumbs slow down on the buttons. At last, the game comes to an end and he tears the headset from his ears. — “Oh, so you talk to her now?” He retorts, his tone snappy and sharp as he tosses the control onto the coffee table. 

Beomgyu bites the inside of his cheek, his gaze still fixed to the ‘New Game’ flashing on the screen. “I do”, he hums, fingers absentmindedly toying with one another. Yeonjun scoffs as he throws a glance in the direction of his supposed friend. — “Any particular reason?” He queries to which Beomgyu swallows. 

There’s a momenteral silence following his question as the two of them remain quietly seated on the couch. Neither of them move, the air feeling heavy yet filled with a sense of anticipation. Finally, he clears his throat as his anxious fingers come to a halt. “I’ve been acting like an asshole..” Beomgyu murmurs as he pushes a hand through his now short hair. 

Yeonjun looked as though he was biting back a snarky remark, his gaze flickering between the other and his own hands. “No shit”, he mumbles under his breath, unable to hold the comment back as he sucked in a sharp breath. His gaze jumps from his hands and over to Beomgyu’s as he nervously fiddles with the seams of his jeans. He can’t help but notice the oddly familiar bracelet around his wrist. 

It takes him a good minute, but soon the pieces fall into place. His lip twitches as his eyes stray by the bracelet. — “I’m sorry”, Beomgyu quietly adds. It seems apologies were becoming a new habit of his. It took Yeonjun by surprise, making his eyebrows rise on his forehead, all the while Beomgyu avoided his gaze. 

“I haven’t been too good either, I suppose.” Yeonjun reluctantly admits as he gives a small shrug. Beomgyu doesn’t reply but still nods as he purses his lips. Another thick silence follows, it’s not uncomfortable, but it’s not one either of them want to linger in. Yeonjun is the first to break it when he clears his throat. 

“I missed you man”, he says, his words light and filled with sincerity. 

Beomgyu finally finds himself looking at his friend, his eyes widening just a fraction. “Yeah?” He asks, the ghost of a grin playing across his lips. Yeonjun scoffs as he leans further into the couch, “Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it get to your head.” But it’s already too late, for Beomgyu was smirking as he leaned over to grab the discarded controller. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it”, he drawls as he presses ‘New Game’. 

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The One Ring vs Galadriel theory

Binding

Sauron initially sought to bind himself to Galadriel, yet ultimately chose to bind himself to the One ring.

Power and strength

Both Galadriel and the ring appear to be sources of Sauron's power and that made him vulnerable, as they also represent his greatest weaknesses.

Furthermore, Sauron wanted to share his power with Galadriel willingly, much like he did with the One ring.

My precious

The One Ring took Galadriel's place of the 'precious'. I am pretty sure this is how Sauron was going to call her, had she joined him.

Obesession

After losing the ring, Sauron embarks on a quest to reclaim the ring and he is restlessly trying to grope Galadriel's mind for thousand of years. He is obsessed with getting the ring and Galadriel back because without them, he is nothing.

Gif credit

Means of control

If Galadriel had joined him, he wouldn't have needed to create the One ring. The primary purpose of forging it was to gain control over the Elven rings. With Galadriel by his side, he would have had one of the most powerful elves as his ally and that will allow him taking control over the elven realm.

Gif source

A remedy for a shattered heart and ego

Sauron’s decision to forge the One ring after Galadriel tells him to f*ck off heal himself is like him saying 'Fine, if you won't be by my side, I'll just find someone (something) else who will help with achieving my goals'.

Created to appreciate beauty, Sauron developed an insatiable thirst for world domination and became obsessed with the most powerful and beautiful of all the elves whom he envisioned as both a wife and the means to achieve his goals.

When he failed to possess Galadriel, he didn't feel complete. She was the only one who made him feel truly whole, the one who held the key to his deepest desires and the fulfillment of his ambitions.

Without her he remained fragmented and that is why he was searching for a way to restore what he had lost. Sauron substituted that longing with an obsession with a beautiful and powerful torment he forged. This 'torment' would always be his and would never resist him.

Not to mention the theory that Morgoth's crown infused with Galadriel's blood was melted into the One ring. In Sauron's eyes the One ring became not just a symbol of power but an 'embodiment' of Galadriel herself. It held a piece of her essence, further binding his obsession and belief that through the ring, he could possess what he truly desired—her.