#some of this is based on an older fic i wrote. on his brother

[quartermoonconvergence]

The Moon, Upright. Some Major Keywords Include: Deception, Difficult period, Fear, Hidden things, Insecurity, Mental confusion.

[ch4nb4ng]

Give it to me Straight

Pairing: Minho x afab!reader

Genre: Best friend's forbidden older brother

Word Count: 9.1 k (yeah we got carried away once again)

Warnings: Based off of inspo (here) and (here) that is also literally porn so dont click if u dont want to see you have been warned.

Also contains: smut, worshipping, angst, mentions of alcohol and intoxication, fingering (f receiving), kissing, penetration, lots and lots of praise, semi soft smut

Notes: HEY!! this is a fic i wrote hald of last year and just forgot about it and found and decided to finish it, hope oyu enjoy !!

Summary: You had enough of your best friend brother, Minho, giving you mixed signals as you grew up, but this. This was the night that you were finally going to do something about it

The night was pretty much over, or well, it should have been. But here you were, sitting on the floor of a random person’s apartment, giggling over and over as you looked at the other 8 people also sitting down in a circle next to you. There were your friends, Sana and Hyunjin, and there were the others. Actually, quite frankly, you did not know these people until tonight. There was one person that was there, that you did know, all too well.

Minho, Lee Minho. Friend, foe? You weren’t sure what to call him, but all you knew was that you were grinding on him in the club an hour ago, hands roaming across your body, lips, teeth on your neck. It was fun, one shot after another had your mind racing, thinking about the possibilities of what could happen after you went home, with him. What wasn’t helpful was the guilt that came with such excitement. 

“Fuck okay,” the stranger yelled, clapping his hands before swinging them, taking the empty vodka bottle off the kitchen bench, “let’s play a good ole fashion game of spin the bottle. Who’s in?”

“Me me me!”

The small crowd cheered in unison, but all you could do was stare at him. More guilt, more excitement, more adrenaline. The thought of kissing him did nothing but intensify the want, the need, the desire to. Wanting to hook up with your best friend’s older brother was the worst thing that you could want at this very moment.

The relationship with Minho was always strange and never straightforward. Even from the first time the two of you met. Your best friend of almost 10 years since you had been in elementary school, he was just different towards you. When you were younger, all he did was pick on you. The short scrawny boy, only a couple of years older than you. Would always chase you around the school yard, always until you fell over, or hurt yourself in some kind of way. You hated him, and had no idea why he always picked on you specifically. 

It changed in middle school, however, after puberty, well, more for him. His face changed, grew taller, much more attractive in your 14 year old eyes. You denied it though, remembering how cruel he was to you. Not much changed personality wise, he was still mean. Picking on you, your grades, his sister, her grades. He was ruthless, and it made you hate him even more. Minho’s looks were easy to overlook when everything that came out of his mouth was rubbish.

It wasn’t until he left for college, and came back for summer after finishing his first year, did things change. He had grown even taller, started working out, and had joined his college’s dance team. Holy fuck did things became different. His smile beamed as soon as he walked in and you in his house, sitting at the kitchen bench. 

***

“Y/n?”

You turned around, jaw dropping the moment you laid your eyes on him. He dropped everything, fast walking towards you as he picked you up, spinning you around with a large chuckle erupting from his chest. He put you down, eyes doing a quick check up and down your body before biting down on his bottom lip.

“Minho?”

“Wow, you look, really, really good.”

His stance was close, almost lingering over you, that was, until your best friend walked in, causing him to step away, rubbing the back of his neck as he walked to the fridge so nonchalantly. Your friend gave you a weird look, mouthing a ‘sorry,’ solely for his presence in the room. They never were that close.

“I forgot to tell you that he got back a few days ago and is going to be here for the summer.”

“That’s okay,” you scoffed, overexaggerated manner, “why would you need to tell me that.”

“Because I know how he can be,” she whispered, “rude, mean, very obnoxious and super, super arrogant.” 

The second half of her sentence was louder, looking straight at him to make sure she knew. You just laughed, nervously, unsure how to take in the interaction.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” she sighed, “please don’t bully my only friend while I’m gone.”

The man rolled his eyes, laughing as he took a large gulp from his water bottle. He walked forward, waiting for her to leave before reassessing his position. His hands leaned against the bench, body pushing forward as he leaned towards you, a smirk appearing on his lips as he looked down at you.

“I have to go, meeting a friend at the gym, but it was really, really good to see you. We should hang out sometimes if you’re free, you know, without her?”

“We should?”

“Yes,” he smirked, biting down on his bottom lip, “definitely.”

***

“Okay,” the stranger announced to himself, “I’ll go first.”

The game felt like torture. Simply watching the bottle, casting your eyes on what seemed to be an infinite amount of times, spinning on an axis. It didn’t help you at all. If anything, it intensified how dizzy you truly were feeling. Concentration was getting harder, but you refused. Refused to give up anything. You did not want to prove Minho’s point. That you would always be this little girl that is easy to pick on.

“Oh my god,” Hyunjin nudged you, “Y/n, psst, the bottle is on you.”

His knock cloaked you out of your drunken daze, bringing some sobriety back as he pointed towards the bottle, eyes opening when you saw it land on you. You looked up, seeing the stranger was already there. He was attractive, short black hair, hazel eyes, freckles. He was really cute, and your brain melted the longer he gazed at you.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you whispered, hand in front of your mouth as you giggled at his proximity. You didn’t have to look. The feeling of a pair of eyes burning into the side of your head was more than enough to know who had their eyes on you, and who didn’t. Chan did not, already ditching the game and sloppily making out with the person next to him. Hyunjin followed in pursuit, and Jisung and Sana, well, that was another story, a long time coming. The glance was brief, not long enough to focus on anybody, but well enough to know your surroundings. Enough to see the girl, who looked very familiar, but not enough to be identified by name, whisk her fingers across his inner thigh. He stayed still, not paying any mind to her as he fixated on you. The man joined in the staring contest, noticing Minho’s obviously unimpressed glare. 

He swung his head back in your direction, pushing his body weight on you in the slightest. You followed, back now adjacent to the floor as he leaned over, lips hovering over your own. You brought your index finger to his lips, curious to know more about the man before he kissed you.

“Wait.”

“Is something wrong?” His facial expression changed, unsure as to why or what made you hesitate.

“Oh, no,” you giggled, full of giddyness and intoxication, “your name. I just wanted to know your name before we, well, you know.”

The man smirked, cupping your face in adoration as he leaned closer, lips wisping across your ear as he spoke.

“Well aren’t you just the cutest?”

He pulled away, eyes back in level with your own as he spoke once more, “Felix. I’m Felix.”

That was all you needed, wrapping your arms around Felix’s neck as you pulled him in, eyes closing and mouth opening and lips attacking yours. The kiss in reality, from an outside perspective, would have looked very messy. Very sloppy as lips missed each other, teeth crashed together, and also the fact that you could feel Felix’s hips moving against your own in the slightest, already half hard member grinding against your thigh. It did feel good, you couldn’t fib to yourself. The gentle friction was delicious. It was enough to make you moan discreetly, the sound lost in Felix’s mouth as the two of you continued. 

You were enjoying yourself, but you also remembered not to lose yourself in the moment. Felix was fun, but he was just part of the plan. A simple pawn in a game of chess, of course being the queen and Minho the king. Sometimes you have to make some unnecessary moves to win in the long term. Even with your eyes closed, you could still feel his own burning into the back of your head. If sober, you most likely would have been feeling some kind of guilt. It wasn’t like you to rub things in other people’s faces. But you felt like it was only fitting. Yes, you wanted Minho, but after everything, your timeline with him, having a crush on him for the longest time regardless that he made your life hard, it only felt right to drag this out as much as possible. 

Your eyes fluttered open, empty lidded shooting daggers at him. Appraisal came to your mind when his daggers were returned, gaze still very much fixated on you, with Felix, making out with another man right in front of him. His blood was searing, reaching boiling point at a very rapid rate. He knew you were a lot of things. Sarcastic, blunt, ‘indifferent’ towards him as you got older, or so he thought. But he didn’t take you to be a tease. He was reaching the point of no return, and if you didn’t stop this act, this play scene just for him, he was going to do something he regretted.

“Hmm fuck,” Felix grumbled, pulling away from you, “has anyone ever told you that you’re a really good kisser?”

Your eyes flickered back to the man on top of you, quickly averting your gaze to avoid any deflections from Minho, Chan, or any of the others there that you knew.

“Hey man, what are you doing?”

You sat up immediately, looking up to see Minho’s friend, Jisung, standing over you. His tone was playful, but the adrenaline was kicking in. The several times you met Minho’s friends, they were decent enough to be nice to your face. Anytime you went over, you could hear them. Talking about how you look, always asking Minho about you. Just them teasing him about you. Maybe it was the reason as to why he had so much disdain for you. They were also protective, very protective of him, and probably the reason why they were standing over you right now.

“Oh hey man, you’re not her boyfriend are you?”

“Who, me?” Jisung laughed, hard, almost hysterically, bringing a hand to his chest to calm himself down, “no no, not me, but the guy over there might be a little mad that you’re making out with his girl.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing onto Felix’s arm, other hand tucking under his chin as you pressed another haste kiss to his lips. You gave Minho one more look, noticing his fists turned inwards, hard shaped as he watched your interactions with the new guy accelerating.

“Good,” He smirked, standing up, and reaching a hand out to you as an invitation, “Did you want to hang out in my room? It’s just down the hall.”

��Sure,” you replied bluntly as you took his invitation. You allowed Felix to guide you, taking one last look at Jisung. Before making your way, you were interrupted one more time. It made you scoff when Minho grabbed your wrist, finally able to do something himself, not his friends doing it for him.

“Y/n?”

“What do you want?”

“Where are you going?”

“What do you think?”

With a heavy grip, attempting to shake yourself out of his grip. There was no way you were giving up on this act yet.

“You just met the guy tonight?”

“Okay and? It’s not like that ever stopped you before. At least I’m not at home, forcing everyone else to hear you late at night.”

He looked down, knowing he had been beaten to the punch. You resisted once more, able to come out of his grip as you looked up and down at him once more, “Stop acting like you give a shit what I do.”

You watched him open his mouth, but missed out on whatever he was going to say. You laughed to yourself, the swift motion of the man from the other side, Felix, the one who was giving you the attention you needed right now. Without a word, he closed the door behind you, spare hand placed on your lower back as he lead you to what seemed to be his bed.You sat down first, Felix making quick work as he stood over you once more, index finger stuck on your shoulder as he effortlessly as he ‘pushed’ you over, torso hovering on top of yours, just like he did previously. You had to give it to him. This Felix guy was smooth. The way he looked down at you, raking your body with every single eye nerve, the gentle twitch when he noticed extra skin showing on your body for a slight moment. He definitely was contributing to your uprising arousal, but the thing that really turned you on was the mere possibility of Minho hearing this. Having his ear up to the door, curious to see what you would really do.

“Hey,” Felix whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, taking you out of your thoughts completely, “everything okay?”

“What? Oh, yeah, where were we?”

You brought a hand to his arm, rubbing up and down in a soothing motion as his own came back to your chin, pinching it forward, lips doting to reconnect with his. His lips were smooth, not a crack or dry spot in sight or in feeling. The kiss was a lot more connected, a lot more teamwork and passion. His tongue lazily slipped inside of your mouth, picking up with much brute and force as his hips charged, recreating the prior friction against your core. Felix had one hand on the side of your jaw, the one on your chin snaking around and cascading down, in between your cleavage, past your navel, brimming on the edge of your undergarment line. You gasped, immediately, not expecting things to move so quickly. A stifled whimper escaped your lips, enjoying the friction his fingers created around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Oh,” you groaned, slightly high pitched and confused at first, but once his fingers dived past your dress, underneath your core, right in the center of your sweet spot, you groaned again, a deeper, more gratifying noise bellowing in response.

“Does that feel good?”

“Mhm,” you whispered, looking up at him, “feels so good already.”

Your hand felt dizzy again, a lightheaded texture adding. You weren’t sure if it was his fingers or the alcohol speaking, but it most likely was the loud bang that came from the east part of the room. You jumped immediately, bumping heads with Felix as you quickly covered yourself, given no time to fix your hair as you were being dragged out, Minho’s jaw clenched as he walked you out.

“Sorry, uh Felix, it was nice to meet you,” you yelled down the hallway, pushed all the way to the front door.

“Minho what the fuck?”

“Shut up and get in the car,” he growled, not putting up with any nonsense that you were about to spew at him, “Jisung’s taking us all home, your friends included.”

“Ugh, whatever,” you scoffed, the digging of his fingers becoming slightly painful. You opened the door, seeing Hyunjin’s smirk as soon as he saw you, hand in hand with Minho. He never had to say anything, he always knew how you felt about him, even when it wasn’t clear to you. 

The midnight breeze was very apparent, hitting you like a truck. The goosebumps on your skin raised in an instant, shiver running down your spine as you walked. Minho let go of your wrist, removing his jump over his head, and plopping it on top of yours. You wanted to turn, scream at him for ruining your hair, not even thinking about your makeup. But honestly, you were just tired. It was late. 

***

You pushed the button down in the backseat, letting the cool breeze smack you across the face as Jisung drove down the highway. It felt nice, distracting you from the imminent pressing of your best friend’s brother inconveniently pressing up against you, too big for the middle seat. Of course he had to sit next to you. Invade your personal space, your privacy. He was still overprotective of you, even when you were by yourselves. It was annoying, and you really didn’t know why he was always like this with you after the needless torture that was gorwing up with him around. 

You decided to put the window up, a sudden drowsiness coming over you as you leaned your head against the window. Your eyes were fluttering, half lidded when you felt someone whispering, right up to your ear. His lips were cold, roughly but incidentally lingering on your lobe.

“Y/n,” Minho hushed, patting your arm lightly, “y/n, baby.”

“Mhm,” you mumbled, furrowing your eyebrows, “what is it?”

“We’re here, wake up.”

“Oh,” you sighed, releasing your weight on the window. Your eyes opened, turning from the window, which was a big mistake. You caught yourself, inches away from your face. Apart from the club, it was the closest you had been ever to him. You saw him, looking down at your lips, causing you to gulp loudly. You wanted to lean in, push away all the doubt you had in your mind, and follow your heart. To have him on your lips, around your body, caressing every crevice, every curve. It was something you had fantasized about in your head several times, whether you wanted to or not. Your hand flew to his chest, truly speechless and unsure what to say.

“Minho. I-”

He licked his lips, fingers latching onto your jaw, thumb against the subtlety of your lips. He flipped, lip bouncing back as he leaned even closer. His breath had never felt so imminent, not even the first time the two of you had shared a kiss.

***

“Did you need help?”

Your heart almost jumped out of your chest, about to lose balance on the stool. The tea bags were high in the cupboard, and you weren’t the tallest person going around. Minho put his arms out, helping you adjust yourself before stepping down and back onto the ground.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, “you know me, never able to reach anything.”

“It’s okay, they’re stored pretty high up.”

Without giving you time to move, he reached over, torso pressed against your chest, half of his body weight leaning on you as he reached up to grab one for you. Your face rose in heat as he placed it on the bench behind you, keeping firm in his position.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, still not moving, “I probably shouldn’t have done that.”

“Oh, uhm no, it’s okay” you mumbled back, pushing the hair behind your ear. He beat you to the other side, lifting his fingers, watching how delicately the fibers of your hair curved along your ear lobe. 

Faces inching closer, it felt like do or die, but you would rather get hit by a truck than make the first move. Minho was the type to flirt, hard. He knew he could get anyone he wanted. College really changed him. For the better though, even if it meant he became a mass fuckboy.

“You have a really, uhm, beautiful face.”

He had become nervous all of a sudden, and you couldn’t help but smile. Smile at both his nerves and slight awkwardness, as well as his proximity. 

“Uhm thanks,” you mumbled again, scared that if you attempted to speak at a normal volume, it would squeak, “you have a nice face as well.”

“Shut up,” he mumbled, piercing eyes boring into yours.

“Make me.”

He hesitated for a brief moment, before bringing both hands to your face, pressing his lips to yours. It was soft at first, a series of gentle pecks you wrapped your hand palms around his neck, keeping him close. His body felt good, right when close to you.

It didn’t take long for things to heat up however, Minho’s tongue begging for access as you gave it to him willfully, a gentle hum as he simultaneously rolled his hips into yours once. A soft groan escaped your lips, causing him to pull away. The smirk on his face was priceless; you knew he was satisfied with himself. His hands snaked down to your waist, lifting you up and placing you on the kitchen bench. Minho nudged your leg with his left knee, spreading them wide, allowing himself to fit into the curve. He kept his digits across your fingertips, gently tapping as he leaned back in, skipping the innocent kisses and heading straight to a heavy, heavy makeout. The noises erupting were increasing in quantity, and it wasn’t until you heard footsteps running down the steps were you snapped back into reality. Hands on his chest, you pushed him off quickly, pushing your hair back in front of your face.

“Y/n what’s taking you so long?”

“Oh uhm, I was just trying to reach the teabags.”

“Yeah,” Minho joined in, helping you cover your ass, “I just grabbed it for her, seeing as she was already in my way to get to the glasses, annoying ass.”

“Okay whatever weirdo,” she replied to him, “stop annoying Y/n.”

***

The memory of the flashback playing in spurts, ones that your intoxicated mind was probably failing to accurately recall the event. It was, however, enough for you to pull away. Saying nothing, you turned away, opening the car door, semi-stumbling onto the ground as you jumped out the car, heading towards his front door. Luckily your best friend was out of town, away on a camping weekend with her boyfriend and her parents, because if she heard you walking in with Minho, it was game over.

“Y/n,” he whispered, tone harsh like he wanted to yell, “y/n.”

It was nothing but a faint noise in the distance. You stood there, in front of the door, impatiently waiting for it to be unlocked. It wasn’t until you could feel him. He grabbed your wrist, almost having to yank you back to stop you.

“What,” you whispered back, similar in tone, “what do you want?”

He waited. It looked like he was trying to put a thought together, knowing that he needed to say something very important. It could make or break: everything. He took a step closer, that familiar feeling of adrenaline, no, some other feeling that you couldn’t describe. Made your heart race, body sweat. You couldn’t put your finger on what it was. All you knew was that it only happened when he was around you.

“I’m, I’m sorry.”

You looked up at him, adoration at how gentle his skin glowed in the moonlight. Fuck, this was annoying. Why did he have to be so hot? It would have been the easy way out to forgive him and let him do what you craved, yearned for. But it was simply too much to do so. This man had been toying with your heart for a long time. Whether he had a crush on you for the lingering amount of time that you had, you deserved better than someone who played with you for their own amusement.

“What are you sorry for?”

Your tone was calm, yet still firmly questioning him. It was easier to just deny the night events than argue about it.

***

The music was loud, deafening as Minho, dragging you by the delicacy of your poor wrist, locked in a spot right next to the speaker right beside the DJ of the club, aka pole position. At first the dancing was innocent, a bright smile of pure joy (and intoxication) plastered across your face, holding each other’s hands as you pushed and pulled them back and forth. It wasn’t until the motions of arms were not moving in the opposite directions, somehow were both pulling in his direction, right up against his waist. The music was much too loud to allow your rational cognitions to process the sequence of events. Facing him, not facing him. Appropriate distance, very much appreciate distance. It was hard to explain how you ended up with your back pressed against Minho’s chest, somehow in the monstrosity of alcoholic beverages and shots actually moving your hips in a synchronized way with his. Maybe it was the firm grip, thumb digging into the soft flesh that was hardly hidden under that dress, making sure that this was the only place you needed to be, that he wanted you to be. 

Your hands easily followed too, palms on top of this tendon illuminating the side of his hands as his lips rested on the outside of the cartilage that made up your ear. The second time you could feel the magic that was his lips. The crowd that was Minho’s friends and the new, yet very much fun strangers that would end up making the later house party were long gone at this very moment. The only thing you could remember was coming with Minho, and the last thing you wanted to do was leave with him.

“Mmmm,” was all that could be heard, well no, felt from the man behind you. The vibrations of his lips were the only indicator that he was trying to say something. His teeth soon followed. Gentle, almost kitten-like nibbles nipped at the heated flesh of the neck and shoulder, head falling limp against his own shoulder as he continued to chuckle inbetween. There seemed to be an innocence to his antics, almost like he didn’t want to hurt you. Yet knowing the downright filthy desires, things he wanted to do, for a numerous amount of time was very much ironic.

Turning around, you pulled away, eyes boring into yours and his face came closer and closer. Eyes fluttering shut like a butterfly's wings for a brief moment, desire had never been stronger.

“There he is, Jisung!”

And just like that, it was over. Reality came back and your Minho clouded fog dissipated in a matter of moments, and it must have for him. You had never seen someone take their hands of someone with such speed. The timely reaction of Minho brought you back to a realistic part of your life. The one where this was nothing but a dream, and Minho was once again out of reach, and the many barriers that were his friends, your friend being in the way, made you nothing but a pawn in his chess game.

***

You stood there in silence, the only sound that could be heard was the ringing in your ears from the loud music prior. The want for him to explain himself was one of such desperation. A sign, anything at this point. Yes, you were very much exhausted from the games but if it was all worth it for him to finally do something about it in the end, the fatigue would be easily wiped away.

“I don’t mean to be this way. So, uhm, aggressive? Or the opposite, I don’t know I-”

“Minho in the nicest way possible, I’m tired and we’ve both had a big night. We can talk about it in the morning.”

Using the spare key that your friend had so graciously given you as a symbol of how much time you truly spent at her house, his house, over the years, the door was unlocked, you ripping your shoes off and letting them laz sprawl against the living room carpet as your body heavily dragged up the stairs. Your feet automatically knew the way to her room, 4 paces straight and two to the left. To get to his it was 7 paces straight 2 to the right. The 4th step on the second floor felt unnatural at this moment, body wanting nothing more than to be pressed up against him in a deep slumber, you craved it; but you knew better at the same time.

“Y/n.”

Silence. You could feel him coming closer, but it’s honestly just too painful at this point to even wait for anything more.

“Y/n.”

Silence, again. It wasn’t until you could feel the unintentionally harsh pull at your wrist, once again pulling back and up against him.

“Y/n wait.”

“For fucks sake Minho,” you huffed, yanking your arm away from his grip, “leave me alone.”

“No, I want to talk about it now.”

Nothing but an eye roll followed, ignoring him and storming into her room. He followed in pursuit, the first time any kind of behavior like this from Minho had happened before. Sitting on the edge of the side of her bed, you turned away as you took off your jewelry, precious earring and delicate chain necklace lying on this decorative plate placed on the bedside table.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Can we please stop pretending like there isn’t something going on between us?”

He was not serious. His bold statement made you stop, turn around and face him.

“You have to be joking right now.”

“Why would I be joking?”

“Minho” you yelled, standing back up and right in front of him, “this is nothing but a fucking game to you! We don't have a problem, YOU do.”

“I don’t play games with you,” Minho scoffed, eyes wide in his own disbelief, “you play games with me.” His voice was also beginning to rise in volume.

“That’s such a fucking lie! You’ve been playing games with me for years. Three quarters of my life! I know that you hated me or couldn’t stand me for most of that but then all of a sudden you come back from college and you want to be around me and all over me?”

“That’s not true-”

“Yes it is! You couldn’t stand me!! Then the kiss in the kitchen? Tonight, you were all over me and I could tell, drunk or sober, that you were enjoying yourself. Until your friends come along and I’m nothing but a secret little game-”

“No Y/n, shut up, that's not true!”

“Explain yourself then!” 

Both of your chests were heaving simultaneously, the heated exchange taking the breath out of the two of you. There was no part of you that was wrong, and you knew better than to lack confidence, especially to someone who has kicked you around for what felt like your whole life.

“I never hated you,” he whispered, once again shifting the tense atmosphere in the room. He took a step closer, that goddamn palm resting on your cheek, fingertips pushing the baby hairs sticking to your forehead as you took him in, listening deeply to his words, “I could never hate somebody like you, Y/n.”

His tonality had become the softest you had ever heard someone speak. It was empowering to keep him on his toes, gaze fixated on him, but lips refusing to move. You could see it. The dip in his own gaze below your eye line, past the tip of your nose, and right to where you wanted his lips to be: your lips. The right thing, like your previous thoughts, was to pull away, save yourself the heartbreak.

“Let me take the time to show you how false that statement really is.” 

But god, was it it easier to just give him. His approach was gentle, but the texture of his lips felt like the key to everything. The light weight of his lips were equivalent to a tuft of feathers falling from a clear sky. Your lips tussled in return, wanting to kiss the man you were in love with so much passion, yet so much reservation. His lips, unlike the first time, had so much admiration for you, somehow the feeling was communicated in the way his lips touched yours, the way his tongue slipped into your mouth, colliding with your own. The world stopped spinning, and the only thing that mattered was Minho’s lingering touch.

His hands scrambled to find an appropriate spot. His palms spread across your waist, the pressure of his weight pushing you to the edge of the bed, a small shriek escaping your lips as the sudden knock of balance leaves you lying against the material of the bed. His hands left your sides, one coming to your face as he broke away, taking a moment to admire you underneath him in all your beauty. He lifted his fingers to your forehead, brushing the baby hairs on your skin before smiling and leaning back in for another kiss. Hands around his neck, you brought him closer, gasping into his mouth when you felt the roughness of his knee conveniently sitting between your inner thigh, spreading to make room for his own. 

You decided to take the liberty of breaking the kiss back this time, Minho rising on his own as he pulled his shirt off in one swift motion. Even the way he moved his limbs was majestic. Eyes widening for a brief moment as the shock of Minho’s body that you had seen many times, especially post-college transformation, it still amazed you how attractive this man was. The proximity all these years amounting to this moment. All the teasing, ignoring, negative behavior came as the collateral of coming to this moment; and you would tolerate all of it again if this what it would lead to. Which is why you refused to rush things, savor the moment as much as you could.

“Minho, wait.”

“Yes?”

“Can we just,” you were hesitant to ask for what felt like a silly request, “I don’t want to rush anything. Can we just make out a little longer?”

His chuckle was one of the most adored. He nodded as he got up from the bed, sitting back down at the edge of the right side. As he turned to put his leg atop of the bed, he leant on his left elbow, patting the empty spot next to him, a very adorable invitation that you simply could not resist. You shooed over, facing Minho as he pinched your chin, bringing your lips to his again. The kisses, for the moment, stayed soft, sweet. He was allowing you to take your time because he was ready. Minho wanted you so bad, but he knew better than to rush. If anything, the anticipation made him fall for you more.

However, the heat was unconsciously beginning to turn up once bodies became involved. The subtle grind of his hips against yours was sending you into a frenzy, and the friction was something you needed to chase. At first you were holding back, only wanting the generosity of his tongue and lips, but now the selfish part of you was taking over, and there was nothing more that you wanted than to have sweet passionate sex with the man in front of you. Gently pushing his chest away, he looked up, confused as you turned away from him, standing up and undoing the zip on the back of your dress.

“Oh,” was all he could say, a smirk plastered on his face as he dragged your body back toward him, now covered in undergarments, back to the bed. His hands became a lot more adventurous, taking the signal of you undressing yourself as an acceleration of what you wanted. Still facing each other, Minho placed a gentle peck to your lips as his arms wrapped around your waist, bringing you much closer to him, and exactly where you wanted to be. 

Once the lack of space was established, Minho brought the tip of his digits just above your panty line. A small gasp elicited from your lips once his fingers dipped down to your clothing covering your core. Just above the center of the folds. Minho’s lips quiver at your body relaxing underneath his touch. The more vulnerable you became, the more in love he fell with you. Each second. Your eyes fluttering almost shut, hips gently bucking underneath the pressure of his fingers had his mind screaming with adoration. His gaze was making you shy, causing you to bury your head in his naked chest. You giggled with innocence at how good his fingers felt. The other times you reminisced, romanticized what this would be like was tenfold of what you actually expected. 

“You’re so beautiful” he whispered, a soft kiss to the tip of your forehead. Your head came out of his chest, a somewhat fucked out expression already coatign your face as his fingers traveled back to the top of your panties, fingers grasping the hem before asking, “Can I take this off?”

You nodded, this time without hesitance as you turned to your front, assisting Minho in letting the thin fabric subtracted from your body. Your bra soon followed, leaving you completely exposed. Minho still had his pants on which you felt to be a little unfair, but the tent that was beginning to form in his pants was a reason enough for him to keep them on longer. 

Turning back to your side, you reached him in another sensual kiss, bodies now as close as they had even been. Minho’s fingers had much more to travel, left palm already reaching for a gentle squeeze of your best breast. His touch was noticeable enough to break away, a small groan at the digits brushing your nipple. Another chuckle escaped his lips as he watched your nipples get harder under his touch.

“Wow,” Minho gasped, gently pinching the soft flesh his eyes couldn’t help but be glued to, “you look amazing.”

“Do I?”

“More than I could have ever  imagined.”

Your silence made him giggle, fingers snaking back down to where the two of you wanted them to be. It was almost embarrassing how easily his index and middle finger slipped between your folds, already coated in your arousal as his digits swirled around your pussy hole. It was evident that he wanted his fingers coated, so when he brought them up to his lips, tongue evidently out as he licked them clean, then slid them back down to your waist once more, spreading your folds apart and pushing on your clit like a button. Your hands grabbed onto his shoulders for support, the sudden amount of sensation in comparison to before sending you into a frenzy. Your jaw had already become slick, the gentle whines and moans spilling out sound after sound. 

“Fuck,” He cursed under his breath, lips right in front of your tits, teeth grazing over the geneoristy of the skin, “you have the features of an angel.”

His shower of compliments caused a louder moan to slip from your lips. It really wasn’t something that you expected. The fantasy you had of Minho being a rough, man handling lover contrasted to the man that presented in front of you right now. But it was much better than anything you ever thought he was to be.

His fingers moved in delicate circular motions, Minho himself groaning at how pretty you looked under his fingers. He kept his curiosity peaked, fingers traveling back down to your hole before plunging them inside, tips instantly curling to bring his lips right up against his own.

“Minho oh my god,” you gasped, short breaths hinting at a rapid pace from your throat as he started to move them back and forth, “your fingers are so good.”

“Your welcome,” he smiled, wrapping his free arm around your chest to adjust for the way your torso squirmed against him. Your own hands soothing his arm that did all the work as he picked up his pace, a slight bump forming into your pussy. Minho’s pace became quickly unforgiven, a spill of curse words that made you feel extremely dirty coming from your mouth. The irony of feeling dirty from cussing and not from the two fingers being shoved into your whole was comedic. 

“Lift it,” Minho grunted, attempting to fix his position so he could get a better angle to finger you from, “lift your leg and put it on my hip.”

You did as he said, a gut wrenching moan that was bubbling in your throat bursting at the seams as your maneuver allowed his finger to enter deeper, stronger, harder. The combination of skin slapping and wetness could be heard by anyone in the house if there was anyone in there, the noise echoing the room as you watch his eyebrows furrow, bitten bottom lip in concentration. All this time, Minho wanted nothing more than to see you be happy, make you feel good. It was in half disbelief that he was present in this moment that he had dreamed of several times. And his perception of you, with his fingers inside of you, moaning his name over and over exceeded expectations to say the least. The temperature that began to rise on your cheeks was spreading to your limbs, muscles slowly coiling as the pleasure continued to build at your core. Minho’s jaw clenched, increasing his effort and strength in, with much effort, fucking you with his fingers. His pace became even quicker, desperate and motivated to make you shake under his fingers.

“Minho please,” you cried, suffocating his lips with yours to muffle the continuous noise that baffled the room, “so good.”

Your sentences, if you could even call them that, were not coherent in the slightest. Yet it did not matter. All Minho could focus on was how beautiful you looked with your lips pouted, the gentle teeth marks under your bottom lip from biting down on your precious skin too hard. The condensation beginning to cover the skin of your forehead as your eyebrows scrunched together, your facial expression could have been interpreted as anger. However, Minho failed to see it that way. He saw you as nothing but an angelic woman that he had the gratitude of being allowed to share a moment of vulnerability with. There was no judgment in his eyes as he felt your tight pussy clench around his knuckles, knowing how close to what you were, and what he wanted to achieve for your sake.

“It’s okay baby,” he whispered, wiping the moisture glistening on the nose, half of your face shimmering in the moonlight as he withdrew his fingers, rubbing the sensual juices all over your swollen clit as your legs began to shake in response to the overwhelming stimulation you were experiencing.

“Can you feel it?”

“Mhhm,” you whined, suppressing your lips together as you focused on him, analyzing to him the intricate details of your body. His lips moved with vigor, leaving a string of semi wet kisses along your shoulder, kissing every little skin contusion, beauty mark, scab, wrinkle, dimple. You name it, Minho was eager to use his lips to analyze you, analyze the way your skin felt against him. The idea increased your arousal to a level you thought would not be possible.

“I’m gonna cum Minho I-”

“It’s okay baby,” Minho hushed you, wanting to relive any pressures or expectations you may think you need to fulfill “even the way you speak such vulgar things is angelic to me.”

“I’m cumming,” was all you could cry out. You know that once this was over, you would be appreciative of how gentle and warm his presence was to you during this unguarded moment, but right now all you could focus on was the tight coil in the pit of your stomach that would give out at any second. Like your foreshadowed, your body was coming undone under him, Minho unable to give up the succulent ability that was your pussy as he reinserted his two fingers back into your hole, thumb almost ghosting over your clit in an attempt to not overwhelm your body in sensation.

Minho thought you couldn’t get any more fascinating. Even the way you orgasmed was angelic. Legs spread wide open as you let him have his way. The trust you developed in him in this intricate moment was such an attraction but mainly an appreciation. He knew that he had not been the most trustworthy person to you. His mixed signals and just overall treatment of you was simply a mind of confusion.

On the contrary, every negative moment that you shared with him melted away. The part of him having his fingers inside of you, bringing you to climax was not what you were focused on. You were focused on the attention. Solely the attention, his words held so much more weight than his actions to you in this moment, and all he did was mumble sweet nothings, adoring every single part of you that you wanted Minho to love.

“Fuck baby,” Minho groaned, finally withdrawing his fingers entirely from your core as he palmed his own arousal. But he merely wasted any time on that as he stood up and discarded his pants in an instant. A half lidded gasp came from your throat as you watched his length spring free from the suffocation of his previous undergarments. Minho laid back on the bed, back against the bed as you extended a hand in which you willingly took, enjoying the sudden rapture that Minho had tangled the two of you in. His fingertips came to your face once more, brushing those delicate strands away as he took his precious time. Willingly ignoring the fact that your very slicked up pussy was creating friction against his tip, he was more focused on your face. The crinkles underneath your eyes that came up when you smiled. The way your lips turned upwards in the slightest. The longer he looked up at you, on his lips, body pressed up against his, the more he fell in love. Both of your hands now came to his face. It felt like hours upon hours that the two of you had been looking at each other. Calmness fell over the room as you leant down to kiss him again. The taste of him was simply nor enough. You needed him. On you, next to you; it did not matter. His presence was something that you truly craved. Sexually, platonically, romantically, it did not matter. Any closeness with Minho was more than adequate. Deciding to lift your hips slightly, your hands followed, gripping him as you slowly slid onto him, a deep groan leaving his lips, a soft moan leaving yours as he stretched you out. Before you could even initiate any moment, Minho grabbed your arm lifting your palm to his face as he sent kisses up your arm, almost as if he was in complete disbelief of what was happening in this moment.

“I just want to worship you my god,” he whispered, making you giggle in the slightest.

His lips traveled just under your shoulder, arms wrapping around his torso to bring you into another embrace. It was that his strength was brute enough to lift you up, and put your back down. Hisbody almost moved with vigor, wanting to make sure the experience was an equal one. A sharp whine came from you as he established a gentle pace, your whole body being used in an attempt to pleasure the both of you. Someone may have seen this as selfish, Minho controlling the pace, but really, he just couldn’t get enough of how much he wanted you. The amount of times he had thought about this moment over the years almost derailed him. But nothing could be more perfect than the moment right now. 

Your arms were wrapped around his neck, then on his chest, across his face, you were too stimulated to be organized with your hand placements. It’s just what he did to you. Minho could tell that you were unsure, so instead he just put his head in your chest, almost wanting you to wrap your fingers though the bse of his scalp, the gentle texture of your fingers against his scalp could have honestly made his toes curl. Just like you, Minho craved your touch in any way shape or form, so the combined combainton of your closeness, tussling digits, and tight pussy was sending him into a headspin.

“Minho,” you hesitated, unsure, if he could hear you in the muffle of your chest, “Minho.”

You were desperate for him to hear you, yanking on his locks to pull him away from the darkness and back into your gaze. His eyes were glazed over for a moment, an innocent peaking on them as he looked up at you with intent.

“Yes my princess, my Y/n?”

“Yours?”

The skin slapping, volume of each time your ass landed on his hips was increasing, but no matter the crescendo, it was never loud enough to get in the way of the intimate looks the two of you had a silent agreement to fixate on.

“Mine,” he moaned, hands snaking back down to your hips, breaking this distance and once again guiding the speed of how fast he filled you up, “all mine.”

“You’re so gorgeous,” you mumbled, barely able to talk at this point, “I want you so bad you have no idea.”

“You have me,” he almost chanted, “you have me. I have you. Always.”

Your head rolled back, the intimacy of his words, rather than his cock, bringing you closer to the brink of pleasure. The attractiveness of finally putting his walls down, striking his fear of vulnerability was unmatchable. Even if things didn’t work out with Minho in the future, you knew that deep down, no one else could ever make you feel this way. Minho was a witch, and the spell he was casting on you was something that would be everlasting.

“I love you,” you cried, throwing your head back in somewhat embarrassment, “I love you Minho.”

“I love you too baby fuck,” he grunted, increasing the strength in which he filled your pussy. He couldn’t handle this anymore. Flipping you over, his body hovered, cock pressing your back into the mattress. On his knees, Minho trusted deeper and deeper, your eyes almost cloudy from how good he truly felt inside of you. Another sensuous kiss ensured, the combination of his deep moans and your vibrating whines slipped into each other 's, easily one of the most intimate things that could ever be done. 

“Mhhm,: You whined, breaking away and placing a hand on his face, “I fucking love you.”

“I fucking love you, my Y/n.”

“Oh god,” you breathe heavily, free hand gripping on his shoulder, “I love when you call me that?”

“What? My Y/n?”

“Yes,” you hissed, piercing into his eyes, this time with vigor, “it makes me yearn for you.”

“You have me baby,” he smirked, eyebrows soon furrowing as he realized his hips were getting sloppy in motion, “I’m all yours.”

You could not stop kissing him. He was just too hard to resist. His words, actions, everything, you were so in love that your chest began to hurt. That pit was developing again, and all he had to do was say the words and you were there. Minho took your hand away from his face, pinning them on either side of you as he slid his fingers in between, allowing your hand to intertwine with yours. The affection was the icing on your cake, because as you felt the swirls of his finger prints trickle onto your palm, your hips were spasming.

“Minho I’m-”

“I know baby, it’s okay, he cooed, “I can feel your pussy clenching hard.”

A little giggle escaped your lips as your body raked itself of an orgasm. Back arching, the loudest noise you could have possibly made erupted from your mouth, the unintentionally new angle allowing Minho to plunge even deeper, keeping it slow as he allowed you to come down from the high. He pulled out right after, pumping himself a few times before finishing just above your core. He fell to your side, immediately lifting your body, wanting to feel that constant warmth as he placed your head against his chest, arms wrapped around your back as he kissed the mount of hair in front of his face. His heartbeat was warm, fast, but stil, a sense of comfort felt over your body as you listened to the organ pump in his chest. The moment was silent, yet comfortable, the both of you simultaneously soaking in that delicacy of affection that you both oh so craved, longed for.

Even after all of that, you still had the energy to do so. Minho read your mind, giving you a quick peck before quickly pacing out of the room. The ache in your heart had already reappeared at his absence. The craving would never stop. Luckily he was quick, grabbing a paper towel, cleaning you up, running back to the bin, the running back and jumping onto the bed, your body flying in the air as he caught you, snuggling up to your side with his head pressed into your chest. Your hand came to his hair, letting those fingertips frolic across his scalp. A silence fell over the room as the two of you simultaneously stared at the ceiling, the dim shine of the moonlight shining through the window, lingering across Minho’s side profile.

“I was being serious, you know.”

“About what?”

“Hating you.”

Minho turned onto his chest, wanting to make sure that you were staring at him when he said this.

“I could never hate you Y/N, my Y/N.”

He crawled up to your side, tall enough to press one more kiss, lips lingering across yours as your eyes fluttered shut from his touch. Lifting the cover, Minho invites you under after climbing in first, turning to the side to hover over your now very tired frame. Lips nudged behind your warm Minho kept mumbling, a combination of kissing you and whispering, the tiny vibrations from his voice tickling the bare skin.

“You’ll have to kill more before I ever let you go.”

[pjflmga]

chicago, alessia russo x reader

summary: story based on the song chicago by louis tomlinson. angst and no happy ending. stream chicago it’s banger🔥

a/n: english is not my first language and i’m dead tired + wrote it in the middle of the night, so sorry if the grammar and stuff is shit at times🥲 also it’s like my first fic writte so yea:o ig if you have an idea of a story or smth send them in :)

wc: 1,8k ish

enjoyy

——————————————————

alessia was sitting on the coach of her apartment in north london, as she scrolled through instagram… or stalking through your instagram to be precise. your last post being a picture of your now 18 month(🥲) old baby.

“my baby girl olivia is now 18 months old🥹❤️” the caption said.

a tear formed in her eye as she thought of the name. the name that her and you had come up with together, at the age of 13. the name she thought you would name you little baby together. the name that you now used for your own baby, without her.

————

alessia and you had been close friends since middle school, when you both were 9.

it had been a normal school day where alessia sat daydreaming about going professional in the thing she loved the most, football, when the blondes friend lisa came running towards her.

“lessi!!! giorgio and peter are at it again.” she said while breathing out.

“huh?” the young girl answered as her head jerked up.

“they got into some argument and it’s getting heated.” lisa answered as the two began running towards the fight. “i think you can talk him out of it.” she continued.

“GIORGIO!” she yelled.

“PETER!” someone else yelled at the same time.

alessia saw how her brother and the other boy looked towards her and the other voice quickly. at that time teachers had arrived as well and told the boys off. so instead of parenting her older brother, the blonde looked over to the other voice and caught your eyes, as you were looking at her with curiosity.

“wow” she thought to yourself “she has the coolest outfit ever” so like the 9- year old she was, she walked over to you and introduced herself. “hello, my name is alessia, but my friends call me less or lessi and i think your outfit is so cooll!“ she said.

“hi alessia, i’m y/n, my freinds call me y/n/n. ” you answered excitedly. “thank you, your eyes are so, so pretty.” you continued, entirely mesmerised by her blue eyes. “oh and that potato head over there, is my brother peter.”

“the boy who fought with your brother is my big brother gio. he usually is the best, we play football together all the time!” alessia laughed.

“no way? i love football too!” you screamed excitedly. “would you like to play with me sometime?”

and just like that a wonderful friendship blossomed out between alessia and you. years passed and the bond the blonde shared with you, only grew stronger. as the two of you turned 16 she realised she might be feeling something else than normal friendship for you. little did she know, you felt the same about her.

as the weeks past the two of you became a bit more and more bold and flirtier, and then all of a sudden you started dating. both of your families loved the other girl. even your big brothers had become friendly and only bantered up a little now and then, but more as a joke of course.

after a few months, on alessia’s 17th birthday, you officially asked the blonde to be your girlfriend. she answered more than happily with a “yes!”. the other present from you might have been even better though. it was your black nike hoodie, that smelled just like you.

both alessia and you loved football, but it was clear as a day who was actually going for it and who wasn’t, and had it more like a side hobby.

alessia was thriving and was currently playing for chelsea’s academy team as well as playing for england’s youth team. you were more than happy for her and watched as she smashed in goal after goal week in and week out.

alessia was so proud of you who were doing quite good as well, playing for the local team in kent. ruling the midfield and scoring some nice goals yourself. of course, when she didn’t have training or her own games, she was there to watch.

everything between the two of you was just perfect, you went to school, played football and had each other. and that weekly routine worked perfectly well for you.

but as they say, all good comes to an end.

the blonde striker and you had only one month left of school before graduating and you were buzzing. you had told your girlfriend that you weren’t too sure of what to do now. sure, you had applied for some courses at a university in london. but other than that your plan was to chill a bit, playing some football and so on. it was no real rush anyways.

alessia on the other hand, had big plans coming up. the striker had applied for different collages in the usa to be able to play football on a higher level, as well as studying. but these great plans of hers weren’t anything you were aware of.

so graduation came, you were celebrating with your friends from school, as well as had a graduation party with each other that your families had planned. everything was just perfect. a few days later alessia had to leave for camp, and that’s when she thought it was time to break the news to you.

“uh, y/n…” she started as she felt a big lump in her throat. “i uh- i, i have a applied for some collages in the usa for the upcoming years. and i uh, i got accepted for unc in north carolina.” she stuttered out nervously.

“oh.” was all you got out, as she saw tears threatening behind your eyes. “less that is great for you.” you forced out with a weak smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“i’m so sorry i didn’t tell you sooner, i really am.” the blonde whispered out. “but i just, i just didn’t know how to tell you and then time passed and you kn-“

“i get it alessia.” you said bluntly. alessia frowned a bit at the usage of her full name, instead of one of a nickname she knew you had, on your never ending list.

“but i thought we could make it work anyways. i’d come back when i have breaks, and maybe you could do the same and we call and text each other all the time. i mean we can do that yeah?” she started to ramble.

“i… i have to go.” you said and left, slamming the door in her face a little too hard. with the sound of your steps leaving, alessia broke down on the floor and cried. this was not the way she had thought it’d be.

sad and slow alessia went to camp, as she put on a smile on her face. this time it didn’t quite reach her eyes though. when game day came around, the lionesses were playing in london. the blonde excitedly looked towards the small crowd to see if you were there, like you had planned. but to her disappointment, you weren’t. she saw her mom looking at her with sad smile, confirming what she feared.

after camp, alessia went straight to your house, only to be met by your mom, who didn’t look oh- so happy.

“please let me talk to her, i need to speak to y/n.” the blonde pleaded.

“alessia, she is broken, she doesn’t want to see you right now.” your mom answered with a stern face. “and you know why.” she added quickly.

of course alessia knew all this was her fault, but she also knew this was something she had to do for her career. so when august came around, she packed all her stuff and flew to her new home for the upcoming years.

the two of you hadn’t spoken since before her england camp, despite her texting and calling everyday, with no success of reaching you. as the blonde forward landed in north carolina, she sent yet another text message “i’m in the usa now. i miss you y/n, please call me<3 i know we can work this out”. to her big surprise you this time gave her a short reply “i miss you too, good luck with everything.”

maybe, just maybe this bitter end of yours, would turn around? maybe that could be the case for you two.

—————

the years past and alessia was now in back in england, more specifically in the red side of manchester. she had also gotten her first call up to national team. her time at collage had been an absolute blast, but not one day went without her thinking of you.

thanks to social media, she knew you lived in central london now. she knew you studied at queen mary university to become a journalist, a dream you had had as you grew older. and she knew you had a new life, that didn’t include her.

the years flew by and right out of nowhere alessia was the front face for the lionesses having won the euros, gotten a silver medal in the world cup and was now settled in north london. but still, not a day went by without her thinking of you. not a day went by without her wishing she could tell you about all her adventures and experiences she’d gotten the past years. not a day went by without her wishing to have you in her life. she wondered if you kept up with her life, what you would’ve said and if you were proud of her.

it had been a tough game for arsenal against their blue london rivals, chelsea. the blues had beaten the gooners with a comfortable 3-1 win at stamford bridge. despite the loss, she bid her thank yous to the fans, as well as signing some autographs and taking some photos. just as she was about to walk away into the dressing rooms, she spotted a face she would recognise anywhere. was it you? it couldn’t be? she blinked, and just like that you were gone.

as the striker got home she burst down in tears, putting on the hoodie you once gave her, thinking back to all the times you had been there and comforted her. especially after a loss. you always knew what to say and what to do, to make her feel better.

alessia replayed the day she told you about her heading off to collage over and over again, and thought once again, what she could’ve done differently. so the arsenal player grabbed her phone and typed in your contact, because of course she still had it saved with a red heart next to your name. but she quickly came to her senses and closed her phone. she couldn’t be that selfish.

she knew you were happy and had a baby. she knew that her name was olivia, just like the two of you had planned. what alessia didn’t know was whether after all these years, you had forgiven her or not. because believe her or not, even if it didn’t work out, the years you had together ever since you were 9 years old were the most meaningful and important to her.

but, maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

[justabigassnerd]

Unexpected Visitor and Revelations

Pairing - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Bradford!reader

Word count - 4,843

Warnings - swearing, angst, fluff, Jake almost punches Tim, Tim's a bit of an ass at first (and potentially OOC), alcohol, brief mentions of military

Summary - one evening at the Hard Deck, your brother decides to visit, meaning you and Jake have to confess your relationship status

A/N - hey y'all. sorry it's been so long since I last uploaded a fic, my motivation took a divebomb so finishing this took longer than expected. it's been a hot while since I wrote for Jake but I had fun with this! as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

Much like your older brother, Tim Bradford, you had grown up in a rough household. You had wanted out the first chance you had, so when Tim joined the Army after moving out, you had wanted to do a similar thing a couple of years later when you finally turned eighteen. Only you found yourself more drawn towards the Navy, and instead of wanting to throw yourself on the front line the same way your brother did, you decided to go to college, get a medical education and become a nurse within the Navy and funnily enough, it led you to meet your boyfriend Jake Seresin.

After a few years of moving around from base to base, even helping on certain deployments, You found yourself getting a permanent position in Top Gun’s medical centre, and one day a rather handsome aviator had been brought in after an ejection during his training session. You had heard him outside your office insisting he was fine and didn’t need any sort of evaluation but the second he walked in and locked eyes with you, he never wanted to leave the room. He started coming to your office complaining of various minor things like headaches and stomach pain so that he could have a ten-minute conversation with you. You had somehow unknowingly made Jake uncharacteristically nervous, and it took him a few unneeded visits to your office to get the courage to ask you out for drinks.

And from there your relationship blossomed.

Two years later and you still hadn’t yet told your brother of your relationship with Jake. You truthfully didn’t communicate enough to warrant telling him such information. You knew he was busy with his career in the LAPD and you were always up to your eyeballs in various Navy personnel and their ailments. But part of you wished that he’d respond to your texts and calls instead of only contacting you when he saw fit.

“Hey, Darlin’. I was thinking we could head to the Hard Deck for some drinks tonight.” Jake muses from where he is lounging on the couch, his eyes flicking up from his phone screen to look over at you as you enter the house, kicking your shoes off at the door.

“What did Bradley challenge you to this time?” You ask with a laugh, entering the living room as Jake gets up from the couch, meeting you halfway, sweeping you into his arms and pressing a delicate kiss upon your lips.

“Why do you always assume Bradshaw challenged me to something?” Jake asks lightly, his hands coming to rest on your hips as he pulls you ever so slightly closer.

“Because you either go to the bar straight from work. Or you get home and start texting the Daggers and then one thing leads to another and you’re asking to go to the Hard Deck because someone, usually Bradley, has challenged you to something and you’re incapable of saying no.” You say with a smile, watching as Jake rolls his eyes jokingly.

“It was a pool match,” Jake reveals, smirking at you.

“Told you.” You say, raising an eyebrow as you pat Jake’s chest.

“So… are you coming?” Jake asks with a raised eyebrow, testing the waters.

“Of course, I’ll come. Can’t support my boyfriend from home can I?” You say, smiling at Jake before he leans in for another kiss.

“Perfect. Because I need my good luck charm.” Jake whispers against your lips softly both of you smiling as you pull away.

“I better get changed.” You say, pressing one last kiss to Jake’s lips before heading upstairs to shower and change into something. You pick out one of your favourite outfits, put it on and admire yourself in the mirror with a smile before you finish getting ready and heading downstairs to join Jake who smiled widely.

“Lookin’ gorgeous, Darlin’.” He says, already grabbing the keys to his truck and gesturing for you to come with him, letting you take his hand with a grin. Jake leads you out to his truck, opens the door for you, and lets you get comfortable in the passenger seat before closing the door after you. He then rounds the truck and gets behind the wheel to begin the drive to the Hard Deck. As soon as Jake pulls out of the driveway, one of his hands naturally comes to rest on your thigh, and both of you are unable to stop the smiles widening on your faces.

Pulling up at the Hard Deck always filled you with excitement. The nights were never repetitive and you loved watching the aviators and their friendly competitions as they’d attempt to win free drinks from each other, only stopping when the familiar sound of the bell rang out, signalling a free round from the person who ignored Penny’s rules. As you entered the familiar bar, you smiled at the familiar patrons, giving them friendly nods as you passed them by before you made your way over to where the rest of the Daggers were hanging out by the pool table.

“So, you didn’t run away then?” Bradley teases from where he was leaning against the pool table, pool cue in hand as you and Jake approach the group.

“In your dreams, Bradshaw.” Jake retorts, scoffing lightly as he takes the spare cue from Javy’s outstretched arm.

“I’m going to grab us some drinks. Do you want a beer? I’ll drive tonight if you want.” You offer, resting your hand on Jake’s shoulder and giving it a soft squeeze as he smiles at you.

“You sure you’re okay driving? I can go one night without drinking if you want a couple of drinks, Darlin’.” Jake then says, his eyes scanning yours for answers as you nod.

“I’m fine to drive tonight. I’ll have just as much fun without the alcohol.” You say reassuringly, shifting your hand to pat Jake’s chest before turning on your heels and heading over to the bar, greeting Penny with a smile and ordering a drink for yourself and Jake. Once you get both drinks, you make your way back over to Jake who is beginning to set up the pool table with Bradley, both of them exchanging friendly teasing as they prepare their game.

“Just on time. Are you ready to see me kick Bradshaw’s ass?” Jake boasts, taking the beer bottle from you as Bradley rolls his eyes behind Jake’s back.

“Two years of dating and you can’t make Hangman less of an asshole?” Bradley asks, glancing over at you as you shake your head with a shrug.

“It’s a work in progress.” You reply, a teasing tone to your voice as you briefly glance in Jake’s direction.

“You love it, don’t lie Darlin’,” Jake says with a wink, making you giggle lightly before you lift your drink to your lips to take a sip.

“Can we quit the yapping and start the game? I’ve got good money on this.” Mickey complains, gaining joking glares from the Daggers as Reuben reaches over to slap Mickey on the back of the head lightly.

“Did you really bet on this?” You ask in a hushed tone as you sidle up alongside Mickey, your eyes fixed on Jake as he takes his first shot.

“Yeah. Coyote came up with the idea and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to get some money out of him.” Mickey replies, glancing over at Javy who was studying Jake’s moves carefully.

“I take it you bet on Bradley winning then?” You muse lightly, taking another sip of your drink as Mickey nods sheepishly.

“Yeah… sorry,” Mickey admits, making you chuckle and shake your head.

“Don’t apologise. I won’t be the one having to pay up when Jake wins.” You joke, nudging Mickey lightly as he laughs.

“Wanna bet?” Mickey says, raising an eyebrow as you scoff lightly.

“I’m good. I don’t want you to lose too much of your money.” You tease before shooting Mickey a quick wink and crossing over to Jake.

“Hey, Darlin’, what were you and Fanboy talking about?” Jake asks, leaning back against the wall while Bradley readies himself.

“Oh, nothing much. Just finding out about the bets going on.” You reply nonchalantly, leaning into Jake’s side as he wraps an arm around your middle, pulling you close.

“Bets, huh? Are you not getting involved?” Jake asks, looking at you, one eyebrow cocked in amusement.

“I already know you’re going to win. I’d feel too mean taking people’s money on top of that.” You say with a soft smile as Jake lets out a soft chuckle.

“You’re too good, Darlin’. I’d be taking advantage of my incredible skills to win all the bets I could.” Jake jokingly brags, kissing the top of your head as you laugh, lightly elbowing Jake in his side.

“Hey, Hangman. If you’re done flirting, it’s your turn.” Bradley calls over to Jake, watching your interaction with an amused grin.

“And he has the audacity to call me an asshole when he’s the one disturbing my time with my girlfriend,” Jake whispers against the shell of your ear, his breath tickling your ear as he squeezes your waist slightly, manoeuvring around you and stepping up to the table to take his next shot as you watch with a smile. You continue to watch the game with a smile, taking small sips of your drink as you watch the game progress. As time passes, you begin to feel flushed, the heat of the bar beginning to feel suffocating so you approach Jake once more, taking his hand softly to get his attention as he smiles at you softly.

“I’m going to step outside for some air.” You say, not missing how Jake’s expression quickly became concerned.

“Are you feelin’ okay?” Jake asks worriedly, his eyes searching yours for an answer.

“I’m fine. It’s just a little hot in here so I just need five or ten minutes outside.” You explain as a cheeky smile makes its way across Jake’s face.

“I knew I was good-looking, Darlin’ but I wasn’t aware I was making the whole bar hotter.” Jake teases, making you roll your eyes as you laugh.

“You’re insufferable.” You joke, making Jake’s grin widen.

“Yet you love me,” Jake says smugly.

“That I do.” You admit quietly, giving Jake a soft kiss before taking a step back and heading out onto the porch of the Hard Deck, the cool air hitting you like a ton of bricks as you sigh in relief. You quietly watch the waves crashing against the sand, taking in the beautiful views of Miramar. After ten minutes of enjoying the cool evening air, you hear the door swing open behind you before a pair of arms wraps around your middle.

“Guess who won, Darlin’?” Jake asks, a large smile on his face as he presses repeated kisses to your cheek.

“Was it Bradley?” You say teasingly, turning in Jake’s arms and smiling at him as he raises an eyebrow in challenge.

“Where did all that faith in me winning go, huh?” Jake replies, his teasing tone matching yours as he pulls you a little closer.

“You know it never went anywhere.” You reply quietly, winding your arms around Jake’s neck as his smile widens, leaning to meet you halfway as your lips connect. One of your hands finds its way into Jake’s hair, running through the short hairs on the nape of his neck as he pulls you impossibly closer, squeezing your waist slightly as he deepens the kiss.

“y/n?!” At the sound of a shocked voice saying your name, you pull away from Jake, looking over in the direction of the voice, and quickly notice your older brother staring at you with a look of absolute shock.

“Tim, what are you doing here?” You ask, moving away from Jake slightly as you turn to face your brother.

“I wanted to come and visit. I thought I could surprise you when I saw you were here and I find this happening?” Tim says, eyes wide as he gestures between you and Jake who subconsciously tightens the arm he wrapped around your waist.

“This is your brother?” Jake whispers, putting two and two together.

“Jake this is my brother, Tim. Tim, this is Jake, my boyfriend.” You say, deciding now was the best time to introduce them.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Jake says, a friendly smile on his face as he holds his free hand out towards Tim who glares at the outstretched hand before focusing on you.

“How long have you been together?” Tim asks, an almost accusing tone to his voice as his gaze flicks between you and Jake, watching Jake’s hand slowly drop, returning to his side.

“Two years.” You state proudly, leaning closer to Jake’s side.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” Tim questions accusingly, his glare hardening by the second. You were aware of the side eyes you were on the receiving end of from the other patrons of the bar that were out on the porch but with Tim’s accusing tone you couldn’t help but stoop to his level and continue to argue.

“I’m a big girl now Tim. I don’t need to tell you everything. We barely talk enough as it is. I don’t expect you to tell me when you get into a relationship-”

“If you were newly dating him I’d understand why you weren’t ready to tell me, but two years? I thought you’d at least have the decency to tell me by now.” Tim interjects, his anger rising.

“Would you have even cared to pick up the phone if she rang? I may not know the ins and outs of your relationship but every time y/n calls I’m the one watching when her face falls when she gets no response.” Jake says angrily, dropping his hand from your waist so he can take a protective step forward, manoeuvring himself in front of you slightly to shield you from Tim’s lethal glare.

“Did I ask for your input? This is between me and my sister.” Tim says lowly, stepping closer to Jake who clenches his jaw, his hands balling up into fists but holding himself back.

“When you’re being an asshole about something that has quite frankly been none of your business, I’m going to have an input.” Jake snaps, feeling the urge to punch Tim grow stronger and stronger until he feels your hand gently grab his wrist, stepping alongside him.

“Hey, Jake. Why don’t you step inside and hang out with the others and cool off? I think Tim and I are overdue a conversation.” You say softly, your hand drifting from his wrist to his hand, gently prying his closed fist open and interlocking your fingers.

“Are you sure?” Jake asks, his voice quickly becoming soft and gentle as he faces you.

“I’m sure.” You confirm with a nod. At your confirmation, Jake nods softly, pressing a soft kiss upon your lips.

“Get me if you need anything.” Jake then whispers softly, shifting his gaze to give Tim one final warning glare before making his way back into the bar.

“Let’s sit over here.” You say quietly, leading Tim down to one of the benches sat just by the sand. Both of you settle onto the bench, watching the ocean quietly for a moment before you let out a small sigh.

“So why are you here? How did you even find me?” You ask, struggling to believe that Tim came just purely for the reason of it being a surprise visit. That just wasn’t in Tim’s character.

“I still have you on that phone tracking app. I check on it sometimes… I also wasn’t lying about it being a surprise visit. But… someone did push me to visit. She said something about not distancing myself from you. You’re the only family I have left and I was wrong to barely communicate with you.” Tim says, glancing at you, a soft expression not many get to see on his face.

“I’ve missed you. It used to just be us against the world but that stopped so quickly I don’t think I was ready for the change.” You whisper softly, a ghost of a smile on your face as you look at your brother. 

“I’ve missed you too. I’m sorry for the way I’ve been handling communication with you over the last few years.” Tim apologises, already prepping himself for you to reject his apology.

“It’s okay. I can imagine life in the LAPD keeps you on your toes.” You say softly, reaching out and resting your hand on Tim’s shoulder.

“It’s not an excuse. What if you had needed me? Did you need me at all?” Tim asks, concern all over his face as you nod lightly.

“Things get a little lonely while Jake’s on deployments. But I can handle it.” You assure softly, frowning lightly when Tim shakes his head.

“I should’ve been there for you,” Tim says apologetically as you take your hand off his shoulder, resting it in your lap as your frown becomes a soft, reassuring smile.

“Well, you can start now, right? We can make more of an effort to meet up and talk.” You offer gently, watching as Tim nods, a small smile of his own making its way onto his face.

“We can. So… how did you and Jake meet?” Tim asks, smoothly changing the subject as you roll your eyes jokingly.

“If you must know, he came into my office after an ejection for a check-up. I heard him from a mile away complaining about how he didn’t need to be there in the first place but he changed his tune as soon as he came into my office.” You explain, chuckling fondly as you relive the memory of meeting Jake for the first time.

“And he’s treating you well?” Tim then enquires, wanting to make sure you were happy with Jake.

“I’ve never been happier with anyone than I have been with Jake.” You admit with a smile, watching as Tim nods, clearly happy that you were happy.

“Have you got anyone?” You then ask curiously, not missing the way your brother’s eyes widened slightly and a slight blush crossed his cheeks before he nodded slightly.

“I do yeah… her name is Lucy. She’s actually the one who talked me into coming to visit. You’d probably love her.” Tim admits, a small smile gracing his face as he talks about Lucy.

“I might have to come to LA so I can meet her. It’s only fair since you’ve met Jake.” You say, your smile widening as Tim lets out a breathy laugh.

“Hey, I feel like I owe Jake an apology. I was pretty rude to him and I’d like to meet him properly.” Tim then says, becoming more serious as you nod and get to your feet.

“Come on. We’ll head in and you can properly get acquainted with Jake.” You say as Tim stands up alongside you, following you into the Hard Deck, and you expertly manoeuvre your way through the various patrons until you find Jake with the other Daggers by the pool table. Upon noticing you approaching, Jake lights up, swiftly crossing to you and bringing you into his arms, noticing Tim over your shoulder and fighting back a frown.

“Is everything okay with you guys?” Jake asks quietly, pulling back to look you in the eye.

“Everything’s good. We’ve talked it out and Tim wants to get to know you so make an effort please?” You ask, your hands moving to rest on both of Jake’s shoulders as his hands drift to your waist.

“I was willing to make an effort at first but then he was a dick to you,” Jake says with a slight frown, his gaze flicking to glance at Tim who was awkwardly mingling away from the group before focusing on you.

“Tim knows he owes you an apology. Just meet him halfway.” You request softly, watching as Jake sighs lightly before nodding.

“For you, I’ll try. But if he’s an ass to you again we’re heading home.” Jake says before you give him a soft reassuring kiss, hoping both Tim and Jake are able to form some sort of friendship. After pulling away from the kiss, Jake heads over to Tim, as you follow behind.

“y/n said you wanted to talk?” Jake says, folding his arms across his chest as Tim nods.

“I wanted to apologise for the way I acted earlier. It wasn’t right of me to be so rude to you for no reason.” Tim apologises, studying Jake’s expression, briefly glancing at you as Jake remains stonefaced.

“It wasn’t just me you were a dick to.” Jake states simply, making you speak up.

“He’s already apologised to me, Jake.” You say quickly, defending your brother from Jake’s potential anger.

“You’re right. I was rude to y/n too and that wasn’t okay either. We’ve talked it out and we’ve agreed that we’ll make an effort to communicate and meet up more.” Tim explains, his gaze flicking between you and Jake who nods slightly.

“I better not find out you stop talking to her after this,” Jake says, watching carefully as Tim shakes his head.

“I won’t let myself. I don’t want to lose my sister.” Tim says, looking over at you and smiling softly which you mirror, the action finally getting Jake to soften.

“Okay. Fine. Let me buy you a drink and we can talk properly. Darlin’, are you good to stay with the others while we talk?” Jake says, at first directed to Tim before he turns to face you, watching you carefully as you nod.

“I’ll be fine. You go and talk with Tim.” You assure Jake softly, waving him off and watching as Jake leads Tim over to the bar, both of them sitting on a stool as Jake orders drinks before you turn to join the Daggers.

“Here you boys go,” Penny says, placing the two beers down on the bar counter, watching as they each take a beer with a nod after they pay for their drinks before focusing on other customers.

“So, y/n said she met you after you went through an ejection. That makes you an aviator, then?” Tim asks, after taking a sip of his beer, watching as Jake nods.

“Yeah, I am. That group over there with y/n is my squadron. We’ve been a permanent squadron just longer than I’ve known y/n.” Jake replies, glancing over at you laughing with the Daggers.

“I used to be in the Army. I served on a couple of tours myself.” Tim says as Jake turns around to face him, smiling.

“At least you had the sense to get out of there. I’m glad y/n was smart enough to join us in the Navy.” Jake says teasingly, chuckling as Tim quirks an eyebrow.

“If that helps you sleep at night,” Tim says with a laugh, lifting his beer bottle to his lips and taking a sip.

“I mean I sleep very well at night. Especially considering-”

“You know what, you can end that sentence there.” Tim quickly says, holding his free hand up, grimacing at the thought of what Jake was going to say.

“Alright, alright,” Jake says with a laugh, holding his hands up in surrender as Tim rolls his eyes.

“You know. y/n told me how happy you make her. I’m glad she has someone like you.” Tim admits quietly, but somehow Jake hears him, instantly softening, his eyes flicking across to you as the corners of his lips tug up in a small smile.

“I don’t deserve her. She makes me so unbelievably happy. So I’ve made it my mission to make her as happy as she makes me.”  Jake replies, his voice quiet as he turns back to face Tim who nods in some semblance of approval.

“I can tell you both love each other. But if she ends up telling me you did something to break her heart I won’t be afraid to hurt you.” Tim says, suddenly becoming serious as Jake nods.

“Well, the same can be said for you. If I find out you’ve cut communication with her again or are just being an all-around shit brother, it won’t just be me tracking you down. It’ll be those guys too. They love her just as much as I do.” Jake says pointing over at the Daggers who were all far too busy chatting with you and playing darts and pool to notice Jake pointing them all out as a warning to Tim.

“You’re very protective over her. I appreciate that. And I won’t fuck up. I won’t let myself lose my sister.” Tim says, nodding when Jake glances back over at him.

“Of course I’m protective. y/n is the love of my life. But I also know she can hold her own if she needs to. I know what you mean though. I’m an older brother as well, it would be hard for me to handle seeing my sister with a partner because well… she’s my little sister I want to make sure she’s safe from any heartbreak.” Jake admits, thinking of his younger sister and how he’d react if he went to visit her one day and found out she was dating someone.

“You’re a good guy, Jake,” Tim says, offering a hand out towards Jake who smiles before grasping his hand, shaking it firmly.

“You’re not bad yourself Tim. I think we’ll get along.” Jake says, releasing Tim’s hand and moving to hold his beer bottle up in an act of cheers. Tim gently taps his bottle against Jake’s before the two men exchange a nod, solidifying a friendship.

“How has it been going over here?” You ask, getting the attention of both Tim and Jake as you stand alongside Jake.

“I think we’re going to get on well, Darlin’,” Jake says with a reassuring smile, his free hand grabbing yours and squeezing softly, pulling you a little closer.

“Good, I’m glad. I didn’t want to have to break up a bar fight or something.” You laugh as both men’s jaws drop in mock shock, both of them insisting that they’d never do such a thing.

“You picked a good guy, y/n,” Tim says with a soft smile, nodding in approval as you smile gratefully in return.

“Thank you, Tim. I’m so glad you came to visit. Even if it was a surprise and we argued at first.” You admit with a soft laugh as both Jake and Tim nod with laughs of their own.

“I’m glad I came too. Look, as much as I’d love to stay longer, I might need to head home. I’ve got an early start tomorrow and I don’t want to get caught in traffic.” Tim says, noticing how you frown slightly before you nod, understanding why he needs to go.

“Okay. Text me when you’re home. I’ll have to find time to come and visit you in LA.” You say as Tim stands up, moving to hug him tightly.

“I’d love to have you come visit me in LA. I’ll keep in touch.” Tim says, squeezing you softly before releasing you. When you step back, Jake shakes Tim’s hand.

“I’ll see you around, Tim,” Jake says with a smile.

“Definitely,” Tim replies, releasing Jake’s hand, both of them nodding at each other before stepping back, letting you lead Tim to the door to say one last goodbye, watching as he gets into his truck and drives off to head back to LA. After Tim has driven off, you make your way back into the bar and over to Jake who sweeps you up into his arms, holding you close.

“Thank you for everything tonight.” You whisper only audible to Jake who moves to kiss your temple softly.

“You don’t need to thank me. I did nothing. I’m just glad you and Tim have been able to make amends.” Jake says with a soft chuckle, hugging you a little closer.

“You supported me and tried to get to know my brother even if you almost punched his lights out earlier.” You say, pulling back enough so you could look Jake in the eye, your hands gliding up to his shoulders and winding around his neck, fingers playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck.

“For you, I’d do anything,” Jake replies softly, leaning in closer as you mirror his actions, leaning in until your lips connect, kissing softly, not caring about the things going on around you.

“We definitely need to plan a trip to LA. Tim told me he has a girlfriend and I need to meet her.” You mumble as you pull away, hearing Jake hum lightly in response before the reality of what you said sinks in and his eyes widen.

“Wait. Tim has a girlfriend?”

Top Gun tags (comment or ask to be added):

@malindacath @kmc1989

[nolita-fairytale]

bad moon rising | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader

summary: in another lifetime, you meet mikey berzatto by chance one halloween night in nyc.

or, the fic based on this headcanon

warnings: angst, use of she/her pronouns, no use of y/n, second person pov, drug usage, high mikey b, swearing, family drama, depression, not a happy ending

wc: 3.7k

a/n: i wrote about grief again. shocking, i know. thank you all for your interest based on the headcanon it came from and thank you for your patience. i wanted so badly to post this around halloween and have been sitting on it since the better part of last year as one of my wips. finally, finally, it's here!! i took a slightly different approach than the headcanon, but i think it still does it justice. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the carmy taglist.

this what-if fic takes place october 2021 because it's make my heart surrender-canon that mikey and reader never met; reader x carmy are best friends and colleagues but it has not gone further than that.

masterlist

Halloween, in another lifetime:

“Can I get hands, please!” Carmy shouts out to the entire kitchen, only to be met with a strong chorus of ‘hands’ in response.

His team works together like a well-oiled machine; a tight run ship, led by a captain near-suffocated under the weight of the chip on his shoulder. 

“Chef!” you hear the sound of your general manager’s voice ring through the kitchen, causing many a-heads to turn. She rarely comes into the kitchen during dinner service unless it’s serious. Her eyes lock with Carmy’s as he looks up from his expo, as if she’s about to deliver bad news. 

His mind races through the possibilities, preparing to solve the next oncoming crisis. Could it be an undercooked steak? An overcooked duck breast? Another complaint of ‘too salty’ or ‘underseasoned?’ 

“Chef, you uh… you have a visitor,” she says instead–the last thing he expects to hear. 

A visitor? 

“Wh-?” 

“Someone’s here to see you. Says he’s your… brother??” Carmy’s ears begin to burn, as he searches for your face amidst the chaos, your gaze there to catch him even from across the kitchen. Your presence feels reassuring, like a strong man in a storm. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s knee deep into service and he cannot get the sound of tickets being added to the expo out of his head. He opens his mouth to say something but he’s uncertain any words come out of his mouth, unsure of what he’d even say. You send him a reassuring nod, and it’s as if in one look, you’ve made the decision to go. 

“Chef, you good?” Carmy hears you ask the head pastry chef. 

“Yeah, we got it. But don’t take too long,” she answers with a curt nod of approval. 

He watches as you nod again, this time in recognition of your boss’ answer, as you pull the food-grade nitrile gloves off of your hands, discarding them in the nearby trash can. Without a word, you follow Kate closely behind, exchanging a few words with her as the two of you disappear to the front of house. There’s a war inside of Carmy as he watches you go–a pang of guilt and a feeling of relief–that whatever it is, you’ve agreed to take care of it. 

In all of the years that he’s been in New York, no one’s come to see him–the possibility of it happening now, let alone as a surprise, feels improbable. 

Must be a prank or some shit…. 

It couldn’t really be Michael, could it? 

As you seek out the answer, your feet carrying you faster than you anticipated, you realize that you’re searching for a face you’ve only seen in photographs. Kate follows closely behind while you push through the front door of the restaurant only to find a man pacing just outside of the restaurant, a ghostface mask in hand. You can tell he’s been sweating, the circles under his eyes just as dark as the ones you’ve become so familiar with in Carmy, with an anxious look in his eyes as his gaze turns towards you. 

He’s certainly not the larger-than-life older brother you’ve seen in the sparse amount of pictures that Carmy’s shown you.  

“I got this, Kate,” you mutter over your shoulder with a confident nod, letting your general manager know that you’re good on your own. “You sure?” she asks you quietly. 

“I’m sure,” you answer, watching as a disappointed look spread across Michael’s face as soon as he sees that: 

“You’re not Carmen.” 

“Uh… no. I’m not,” you reply, hearing the front door to the restaurant close behind you. The man swears under his breath, and you watch as face changes from disappointment to annoyance quickly, as you try your best to come up with an explanation that may satisfy him. “He uh… he can’t come out. Not right now. So he sent me.” 

Michael scoffs with a shake of his head, his eyebrows quickly rising and falling incredulously as he takes another drag off his cigarette. 

“Shit... the guy can't even make time to see his big brother?" he asks, the annoyance obvious in his voice this time. 

You take a step towards him, your arms folded across your chest. 

“I’m sorry. I-, I don't think he was expecting you,” you answer, much more compassionately this time. 

“Right,” Michael mumbles, barely loud enough for you to hear. You watch as he throws the butt of his cigarette down on the pavement, before stamping it out. 

“It’s just-. He would if he could. I know it. It's just a busy night. I-... we're doing 200 covers tonight and uh... well, he runs the kitchen so,” you try again, and you can practically feel the disappointment (and resentment) burying itself deeper in Michael. 

“Yeah, no thanks, lady. You don’t need to explain it to me. Jagoff can’t even make time to say ‘hi’ to his brother. Sends you to do his dirty work instead,” Michael dismisses you, bitterly. 

He takes a beat. And then another, as if he’s accepted that he’s not going to see Carmy after all. 

“Why don’t you come inside? I’m sure-,” you offer, taking another step towards him. 

“‘S alright, sweetheart,” he dismisses you again, this time gentler. “You don’t need to make up for his bullshit.” 

You open your mouth to say something—anything in defense of Carmy—but you’re certain that nothing you have to say will be enough for your best friend’s older brother (save for Carmy coming out here himself).

With a nod, you accept defeat, turning to go back inside. But there’s something that stops you—like you just can’t just go back inside without trying to remedy the situation one last time. This time all you say is:

“I don’t know how long you’re in town for but… we should be off by midnight.”

Michael only offers you a sympathetic smile before you slip back inside. 

—---------------------------------------

It’s not until you and Carmy are packing up your things to head home that he brings it up—his mysterious visitor—hesitant to ask the question that’s been eating at him all night. 

“So uh… was it really him? Michael?” he asks you, cautiously, as he watches your face carefully for any kind of reaction. 

“Uh… yeah. I mean, at least the guy I recognized from your pictures,” you reply, hoping that the answer (or the fact that he missed his brother) won’t break his heart. 

A beat.

“What’d he want?” Carmy asks, trying to mask his curiosity as best as possible. 

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “Seems like he found himself in the city. I didn’t ask. I didn’t… know if you wanted me to.” 

Carmy tries again. 

“Oh no. It’s-, no I didn’t-, no, it’s okay.” 

He takes his time, making up his mind about what he wants to say next. 

“It’s weird, right? Guy can barely pick up the phone to say hello but… he can show up unannounced and just like-, expect me to drop everything?” he asks you—the look in his eyes telling you that his mind is miles away. 

“I- I don’t know, Carmy,” you reply, heavily. “Are you… do you wish you had gone instead of me?” 

Carmy’s quiet as he follows you out of the back door of the restaurant, thinking his answer over. 

“I don’t know,” he answers slowly, a lack of confidence as the words fall out of his mouth. “Maybe?” 

He’s not sure how he’s supposed to feel and right now he just feels… ambushed, which only makes him want to shut down. 

Instead, Carmy changes the subject back to your post-work plans, the two of you debating what kind of post-shift late night meal you’re going to have before settling on a few slices of pizza on the way back to your place. You and Carmy cut through the alley to the front of the restaurant so that you can begin your late-night sojourn, and it’s only when he spots something odd that he stops you. 

“What the fuck?” Carmy cuts you off, holding an arm out in front of you to stop you from walking any further. 

You follow his line of sight right over to a figure moving towards the both of you. In the brief glimpse you’ve gotten of the person moving towards you, all you can see is a quick flash of the ghostface mask they hold in their hands as a bus drives by, obstructing your view. 

Carmy’s heart stops, fear filling his chest as the bus speeds by, the person getting closer and closer until…

“Michael?!” Carmy shouts, squinting as he sees the man approach. His expression of pure shock leaves his jaw agape, rendering him speechless as he scrambles to try to find better words that: 

“What-, what the fuck are you doing here?” 

“Shit,” Michael scoffs playfully, with a chuckle, his breath uneven from the light jogging pace he’d kept. Michael takes note of the arm his younger brother’s extended, shielding you from him. “What? Can’t your big brother come surprise ya in the big city?” 

Carmy shoots him a look that says, ‘when have you ever done that’ and Michael nods knowingly, his eyebrows quickly raising, then lowering as he makes peace with the fact that he’s never been that guy. 

“Me and Deb… we came up for the weekend,” Mikey admits with a heavy sigh. “Tried to do something nice for her but, you know, broad’s been a real bitch-.” 

“Mikey,” Carmy warns, taking a tone you recognize—the kind he uses when he’s going to yell at the saucier for a broken mornay. 

“Right,” Mike course corrects at the volume of a mumble, heaving a heavy, yet disarming sigh. 

Carmy nods slowly as he allows some part of him to relax, his arm falling away from you as the two of you exchange a look. 

“We uh…. Got into another fight. She’s on her way back to Chicago now,” Mikey explains, the disappointment evident in his voice this time, almost as if it were an apology. 

“Sorry,” Carmy mutters quietly, as you exchange a look with him. 

“Nah it’s-, she’ll get over it,” Mikey brushes off with a shrug, his tone shifting as he extens an arm out to you.

“Fuck, where are my manners? I never properly introduced myself earlier. I’m Mikey. Mikey Berzatto,” he grins with a charm and confidence that’s been absent in both of your interactions with him till now. The smile that spreads across his face is contagious as he looks from you to Carmy, then back to you. “Shit. I’m sorry. ‘M fuckin’ jagoff, interupting your night like this. I should probably get-.” 

“No!” you protest, almost too quickly, earning a look from Carmy. “We weren’t-, we were just getting off work and were gonna grab a bite. Maybe even… a drink?” you suggest, a hopefulness in your eyes as you turn towards Carmy. 

“Yeah?” Michael asks, his interest piqued. 

“Uhm. Just gonna grab a bite actually,” Carmy forces out, sending a glare in your direction. 

“You know what’s crazy? I know a spot. With food. And drinks,” you challenge him, silently begging him to just go with it. 

“You cool with that, Carm?” Mike asks this time, looking from you to his younger brother once more. It’s the first time that Carmy thinks Michael’s ever looked to him for approval. 

Carmy’s quiet for a moment, torn between wanting to burn it all down or declare a gleeful ‘yes’ because at least Mikey wants to spend time with him. 

“Um. Uh. Yeah. Yeah okay,” Carmy finally agrees. 

“Alright, let’s fuckin’ do it!” Mikey rallies. 

And as he turns to go, your voice instructing him that it’s only a few blocks from here, you and Carmy fall into stride, just a few steps behind Mikey. 

“I’m gonna kill you,” Carmy threatens you—though there’s no weight to it—through gritted teeth. 

You shove him playfully, bumping your shoulder against his side as the two of you walk, answering with a promise that: “You’ll thank me later.” 

—---------------------------------------

You sit on one side of Carmy, Mikey on the other, and you can see why Carmy looks at his older brother like he hung the sun, the moon, and the stars above. There’s something different about Michael—something different than when you met him just hours ago outside of the restaurant—as he corrals the three of you into a round of shots. 

As the shots of tequila arrive at the bar, Carmy dismisses his, his attention fixed to the still-full whiskey on the rocks he’d ordered earlier, just to appease his older brother. He watches you carefully as you and Mikey clink glasses before throwing back your own respective shots. 

“Carm?” Mikey asks, nodding towards the third, untouched shot glass. 

Carmy hesitates. 

“It’s fine. I’ll take his,” you jump in, half as an attempt to give Carmy the out he so desperately desires, and half because, admittedly, meeting the great Mikey Berzatto makes you a little nervous.

Before anyone can protest, you reach out, picking up the shot glass, before tapping it down against the bar top, fearlessly throwing it back. Michael watches you with a sense of amusement, as your face crinkles in response to the sting of the liquor and the bitterness of the lime you chase it with. 

He smirks, sharing a knowing look with his younger brother that says, “I like this girl,” which in turn only causes Carmy to blush. Before Mikey can say anything more, the song that blares through the speakers changes, earning his attention as he hears the familiar words:

“I see the bad moon a-risin' I see trouble on the way I see earthquakes and lightnin' I see bad times today”

“Alright, alright. Think it’s a little too on the nose if I admit that I love this song? On Halloween? C’maaaaaahn,” Mikey asks, almost as if it’s a confession in reference to the easily recognizable Creedance Clearwater revival hit. 

“No! No, I love this song,” you’re quick to assuage his hesitation as your eyes light up in response to his recognition. 

“You got good taste, kid,” Michael notes confidently, winking in his brother’s direction. “I like this girl, Carm.”

Only this time, he says it out loud. Carmy only shakes his head, the blush already running across his cheeks taking a deeper shade of red. 

“Yeah, yeah. Uh. You both uh.. Like music,” Carmy smiles, gesturing from you to his brother. At least this is going a lot better than he expected it to, he reminds himself. 

“Oh yeah?” Michael asks, clearly intrigued. 

“Oh that’s right!” you exclaim, simultaneously. The excitement that brews within you has you stumbling over your words as you manage to get out:

“You’re-, oh my god! The Lennon jacket!” 

“What?” Mike asks, shooting you a funny look. 

“I’m sorry. I just-. I realize I’m not-,” you stammer over your words, trying your best to explain your earlier exclamation over your own excitement. 

“You gave Carmy the denim jacket – the 1950s selvedge Wrangler!” 

“Just like the-,” Michael starts, the two of you finishing his sentence at once with: 

“... just like the one John Lennon had!” 

“Marry this girl, Carm. Marry her right now. Tonight! Or I will,” Michael encourages, slapping his hand down against the bar. He speaks with so much bravado and conviction that you can only imagine that there was none left for Carmy. “Fuckin’ christ. I never should’ve let you two meet,” Carmy groans on an exasperated exhale as he shakes his head once again. 

“Oh c’mon, Carm,” Mikey rouses him, with a playful eye roll. 

“It’s totally my favorite jacket of his! I-, well, it’s a long story but we actually became friends over the jacket because he spilled a drink on me and-,”

“Ahhh real smooth.” 

“No! No, it was okay, I promise. I-, I don’t know if we would’ve gotten to know each other if he hadn’t so-. Call it a lucky jacket, I guess,” you smile, stealing a look in Carmy’s direction. He shoots the smallest smile back to you, cognizant of the fact that Mikey’s observing the entire interaction. 

As you begin to tell Michael the story about the aforementioned Lennon jacket, it could be minutes, hours, or days that pass, once you and Mikey finish trading facts about music like they’re trivia cards. It’s almost as entertaining as watching Mikey and Carmy go at it, bouncing facts about the history of denim like you’re at the French Open. 

You excuse yourself to the restrooms—partially because you really have to pee and partially because it seems like this evening is going well—wanting to give both brothers some time alone. And as soon as you’re out of earshot, Mikey’s on Carmy like an FBI Investigation. 

“This your girl, Carm, or what?" he asks with a casualness to his voice that sets off alarms in Carmy’s head. 

"Mikey, stop it,” Carmy dismisses him, hoping more than anything for this to be the end of the conversation. 

Instead, Mikey scoffs, shaking his head as he downs another shot. 

"Then at least tell me you're hittin' that." 

“Michael!" Carmy hushes his brother, a warning and protectiveness in his voice this time. 

"Are you fuckin' serious right now, Bear?” Michael pushes further. “What, you're telling me you're not when she’s walkin’ around in your jacket, talkin’ about wearing your clothes to your big brother and I’m supposed to think-?" 

"She's not!” Carmy cuts him off. “She doesn’t do-, she’s.... my friend. Jus’ give it up alright.” 

"Shit. Wish I had a friend like that. Ya friends, kid, or are ya... you know... friends?" Mikey smirks, earning a venomous glare from his younger brother. 

Carmy shakes his head in response, jaw clenched, as he stares down at the bar top, a feeling inside of him that he doesn’t like when he even thinks about Mikey looking at you like that. 

"Shit, I thought I taught you better than that, Bear." 

There it is again.

That feeling. 

He’s not sure how to name it, but it’s enough to make Carmy want to deck his brother right then and there as it rises inside of him. 

"I'm serious, Mike. We’re just friends,” Carmy spits out. He’s much more serious this time. “Cut it out." 

But Michael’s too quick, his voice growing louder as he interjects on the tail end of Carmy’s insistence.

"Oh come on! The chick's smokin' fuckin' hot. And I can tell that you like her. I'm not blind, Carm. I see the way you-."

And if it’s as if something snaps inside of Carmy as he exclaims: 

"Don't talk to me like you know what's going on in my life! Fuck!" 

"Carm-." 

"Can't even pick up the damn phone and then you just... waltz into town acting like everything is okay?!” he fumes, standing up out of his chair. 

His face grows redder with each word, and it only confirms Mikey’s suspicions: that his little brother is absolutely a goner for you. He’s not sure he’s ever seen Carmy like this and he’s torn between feeling proud of his kid brother or pissed that the kid’s turning this around on him. 

"Well, if you ever bothered to come home. You know mom's been askin' about you since you never fuckin’-,” Mikey roars, eager to relinquish the hotseat here.

“Oh don't bring mom into this!" Carmy protests.

It’s your voice that snaps him out of it—brings him back to earth as he hears you ask:

“Everything okay?” 

Carmy can practically hear his heart pounding away in his ears; can feel the blood rushing through his head as he takes a deep breath. He swallows, takes a beat, then turns to you. 

“Yeah uh. I think we should go,” he states, his voice uneven and tense as you try to get a read on either brother. 

“Uh… yeah, I guess we can-, um,” you stammer out, wondering how things went from good to hell in a matter of minutes. Carmy mutters something about getting your stuff as you try your best to put the pieces together. 

“It was uh, nice to meet you, Mikey,” you say softly, as soon as you get your coat on. 

“Yeah. You too, sweetheart,” he nods, something distant in his voice. Carmen scoffs at his brother’s usage of the word before tugging on your arm. 

You wait a beat, in anticipation of some kind of goodbye between the brothers, but there is none as you follow Carmy out of the bar. 

—---------------------------------------

Halloween, again — in this lifetime:

When Carmy comes to, he can hear the faint sounds of an episode of Pasta Grannies in the background, uncertain of what time it is. 

“Hey, you. You fell asleep on the couch and I didn’t have the heart to wake you up,” you say, as he begins to sit up. Carmy blinks his eyes a few more times, watching as you make your way from the kitchen island over to the couch, taking a seat at his feet. 

“Did you still want to watch a scary movie? You know, in the spirit of the holiday?” you ask him with a soft chuckle. 

All Carmy can remember before falling asleep was what he was thinking about: what it would be like if you had met Mikey. It’s something he thinks of often, especially as the two of you grow closer—as your relationship gets more serious—and it’s something he hates that he’ll never be able to give to you. 

“This was his favorite holiday,” Carmy manages to get out, the sleep heavy in his voice. 

You’re not all that surprised. Carmy’s been on edge lately and you assumed it was because Mikey’s birthday’s coming up. But this… this makes sense too. 

“I wish I could’ve met him,” you smile, reaching out for one of his hands. 

Carmy nods. 

“Yeah. Uh. Yeah. Think he would’ve loved you.” 

Maybe a little too much, he thinks to himself. 

“You think so?” you ask with a vulnerability and a desire for reassurance that catches Carmy off guard. 

He nods with much more confidence this time, offering you a soft, sympathetic smile.  

“Yeah, sweetheart. I know so.”

[strawberry-seob]

I'll Go ✩ kjs

🍓pairing: afab!reader x jongseob, and afab!reader x intak

🍓genre: au, fluff, age gaps (reader is older), slight hurt/comfort, minor love triangle, caregiving/caretaking elements/moments, slow burn, falling in love with your sibling's best friend

🍓rating: teen & up audiences (but please see author's note below)

🍓 summary: jongseob is your younger brother shota's long-time best friend and now that you’re all adults, you begin to see him differently

🍓warnings: alcohol use, smoking (cigarettes), swearing/language, mentions of menstruation/menstrual care, accidental head injury/hospital visit

🍓word count: 35.1k (split into multiple chapters within this post)

🍓author's note: i wrote this fic as a series on ao3 so that readers could have a choice to read the smutty parts or avoid it, based on their preferences. i probably won't format a fic like this again but since that is how i did this one on archive, i will be posting the other two nsfw parts separately (they will be a progressive continuation starting from the end of this story's last chapter)

Chapter 1: I'll Go

It had only been a year, but so far, being adult roommates with your little brother Shota had proven to be nothing if not interesting. From his terrifying sleep walking, to the “science experiments” in the kitchen, and his habit of staying up all night playing video games with his best friend Jongseob, there was never a dull moment. It was way more interesting and fun than living alone ever would have been. This was especially true, given your age difference: at nineteen, Shota was wild and crazy in a way that you remember being several years prior. You had chilled out, but you affectionately doubted whether he ever really would.

Despite the messes around the apartment, living with Shota was a generally positive experience. On a certain afternoon, however, a scheduling mishap on his part turned into one of the more awkward situations you’d encountered, and you were still trying to figure out how you felt about it.

Early that Saturday morning, you’d woken up with a heaviness in your belly that only meant one thing: that time of the month.

Although usually very careful about tracking your periods and keeping the house stocked and ready for when it was supposed to come around, life had gotten chaotic enough lately that Mother Nature had brought your monthly gift mostly by surprise. You hadn’t started bleeding yet but you knew you would soon, so you swallowed a couple painkillers on an empty stomach (a bad habit you’d picked up due to your debilitating cramps), slapped a pad in your underwear, and crawled back into bed in the fetal position.

You woke again later that morning to the sounds of obnoxiously high-pitched giggling coming from the living room. Ugh. Another thing you’d forgotten was that Shota had invited Jongseob over to hang out for the day to work on homework (which would inevitably end up being 99% video games, and 1% homework). They were both attending the same college and thus had the fortune of taking some of the same classes and being able to help each other with homework. Jongseob was the kind of person to whom school came naturally, while Shota needed quite a bit more help most of the time, so you were at least glad he had a friend like Jongseob who was willing to help him so much.

From the sounds of it, however, it didn’t sound like much homework was actually getting done. You groaned and crawled out of bed, barely able to stand up straight due to the cramps. You gave yourself a cursory glance in the mirror and almost jumped at the sight of yourself. You were used to Jongseob being over all the time and didn’t really care about what he thought, but you decided to run a quick brush through your hair anyway and throw on a sports bra under your t-shirt. Actually, nope, fuck that, the sports bra was coming right back off. Way too tight.

You shuffled into the kitchen and started the electric kettle, pulled out your favorite pottery mug, and a raspberry leaf teabag. You’d always been told that it was good for menstrual symptoms and couldn’t really tell whether or not it helped, but it certainly couldn’t hurt. Jongseob walked into the kitchen and jumped, letting out a hilarious yelp, his hand over his heart dramatically. As much as your stomach hurt, you couldn’t stop laughing.

“Cut it out, y/n,” he whined, “I didn’t even hear you come out here. Wait… you okay?” he asked, his voice taking a slightly more serious tone. You realized you were gripping the counter with your other hand as you poured the steaming hot water into the mug. “Ah, yeah. Just don’t really feel great this morning.”

“Ah shit, you better not get me sick,” he replied, making an X with his arms in your direction playfully, then turned to pour himself a bowl of Shota’s cereal. “Don’t worry,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Not contagious.” He raised a confused eyebrow in your direction but didn’t press the issue.

You looked over at him again. “I like your hair, by the way. It suits you.” You could see the back of his neck tinge ever so slightly pink, as he reached a hand up to one of his wavy bleach-blonde locks and tugged on it self-consciously. The color contrasted nicely with his light pink hoodie. “Oh. Uh, thanks,” he muttered, not looking at you. You smiled to yourself and looked down at your tea, still steeping. As you’d gotten older, one of the things you were trying to work on was sincerity. But you were usually so sarcastic and Jongseob was so shy that it just probably ended up coming off as weird or even teasing. Oh, well. You had to start somewhere.

You heard Shota’s phone ring from the living room, and he answered. “What do you mean, where am I? Noooo that wasn’t today, was it? Okay, yeah. No, I’ll be right there, sorry!” and as he hung up, you and Jongseob flinched as your brother let out a dramatically shrill scream. He then leaned into the kitchen casually, hands on either side of the doorway, as if nothing had happened. “Uh, so! That was Jiung. I didn’t realize I had dance practice today. Haha! Well I did, but I didn’t realize that today was today, y’know?” he smiled sheepishly, trying to look as cute as possible.

Jongseob smacked his arm playfully, scolding him, “Dude, you can’t keep doing this to me, I have so much homework to get done and nowhere to do it. And I don’t wanna have to go to the library again!” Jongseob lived in the university dorms with a very rowdy dorm partner who cared way more about hooking up, smoking weed, and blasting his shitty music than about anything academics-related. Not that Shota was the quietest person in general, but he knew when to be quiet, and Jongseob appreciated that.

“Wait, you guys,” you interrupted. “Jongseob, why don’t you just stay here?” you offered. Jongseob and Shota both looked back at you, their eyes wide. Jongseob opened his mouth to say something, but Shota was quicker. “That’s a great idea! Welp, that settles it, buddy. You’ll be fine without me, you’re here often enough that you basically live here anyway.” Jongseob let out a little yelp as Shota pinched his side, and he smacked his arm again, trying to ignore his friend’s flippant response.

“Y/n, are you sure you’re okay with that? I don’t want to impose,” he complained, scratching the back of his head self-consciously. Shota butted in, “They’re fine, they would have never said anything if they didn’t mean it.” You were ready to argue when you realized he was actually being serious. Like now, every once in a while your brother said something that shocked you because it made you realize how well he actually knew you.

“He’s actually right. I really don’t mind, I’ll probably just be in my room, but just let me know if you need anything. Plus, you do basically live here half the time.”

“Okay, I will. Thanks, y/n,” Jongseob smiled, his crooked canines showing for a moment. You remembered him getting bullied for them when he was younger, but as an adult, they were more charming than anything. He and Shota had both resolved to not get braces when they were younger, and even though you would never tell them to their faces, you thought their smiles were adorable.

Shota hurriedly changed into some joggers and an oversized t-shirt, grabbed his wallet and phone, and rushed out. “I’ll be back in a few hours!” he yelled without looking behind him as he slammed the door. You sighed with a smile, looked at Jongseob and shrugged. He smirked and headed to the table to start on his homework. You removed the teabag from the mug, tossed it in the trash, and you’d almost made it to your bedroom when you were hit with a devastating wave of cramps across your low abdomen that radiated into your back and down your legs. You hissed in pain, bracing yourself in your door frame, and heard the faint squeak of the dining room table chair on the hardwood. “Y/n? You good?”

“Ah… yeah. I’m fine,” you replied with gritted teeth, trying not to let your voice sound as strained as it felt, but to no avail. You cringed as you heard a louder creak from the chair sliding on the floor once more, and soft footsteps approaching. “You don’t sound fine– o-oh my god!” Jongseob exclaimed as he rushed towards you, reaching out to steady you but hesitating, his hands hovering, not quite touching you. You cursed inwardly, realizing what you had to do.

“Okay listen, I know this looks bad, but–”

“Are you kidding? You can barely stand, y/n! Do you need me to take you to the hospital? Shota took my car to practice but I can order an uber or something, or–”

“Jongseob, you really listen to me. I’m fine,” you responded firmly. He looked back at you like you were crazy, his hands still hovering, unsure if you were about to collapse. “It’s my fucking period, okay?” 

“Your–” Jongseob started, then paused, realization coloring his face a bright shade of pink. Here we go , you thought to yourself, already exasperated. He pulled his hands back, looking to the side, then back at you. “Okay, but. I mean… are you okay , though? You look like shit, no offense.”

You laughed, stiffly walking into your room and curling up on your bed, as he remained in the doorway. You looked up at him sideways. “You know what, if you’re offering… would you mind heating up my heating pad for me? I think it’s in the hutch, and it just needs two minutes in the microwave, and you gotta flip it halfway through.”

“You got it, dude,” he replied with a mock salute, rushing back down the hall and nearly killing himself tripping over his too-baggy jeans. You giggled quietly and rolled onto your back, legs bent for comfort, and slapped both hands over your face, sighing deeply. This was weird. Right? You guessed it could be worse. But with that thought, another cramp crashed through your body, wracking your hips with pain, and you turned your head to the side, moaning into your pillow as Jongseob walked in. He hesitated for a moment, not used to coming into your bedroom, but seeing the way you obviously weren’t about to stand up and take it from him, he walked over and handed it to you. “Here you go. Sorry about your, uh. Sorry you gotta deal with all this,” he said awkwardly.

“Just one of the many blessings of having a goddamn uterus, my friend!” you replied, laying the heating pad across your lower abdomen and sighing at the relief it brought. You looked up at Jongseob and he glanced to the side as soon as you made eye contact. There was a pause of silence as he looked down at the floor, fidgeting with his oversized hoodie sleeves. “Yeah. Um. Is there anything else I can do? Like, to help?” he asked. 

“Yeah, go get a gun and shoot me,” you responded, your voice monotone. He laughed, his voice bright and slightly raspy. “Okay sure, will do,” he said, shaking his head and closing your door as he stepped out. Before the door closed completely though, he paused. “I’ll be in the dining room. Seriously though, let me know if you need anything. ‘s the least I can do since I’m a guest. ” 

“You’ve way surpassed guest status, dude. But okayyy, thank yooouuu,” you replied, dragging out the words and trying to sound annoyed, when you were in fact relieved that he couldn’t see you smiling. Living with Shota, you didn’t really know what it was like to be taken care of in any way. That guy was such a baby that you were constantly in parent-mode. 

This wasn’t bad. It was a little weird, but it wasn’t bad.

After about an hour or so, you dragged yourself out of bed and into the bathroom. Opening the bottom cupboard, your face fell. No. This cannot be happening. You rummaged through the space, knocking everything over, opening every drawer and cupboard imaginable in the bathroom, with no luck. Your pad and tampon supply had completely run out. Why the fuck hadn’t you just started using a diva cup? You cursed yourself inwardly. 

You rushed out into the living room, hand on your lower back (which was still on fire), and rummaged through your bag, because surely there had to be a stray hiding somewhere, right? Right?! 

You sighed, frustrated. Jongseob looked up absently from his textbook at the table. “Whatcha lookin for?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know!” you retorted, a mischievous smile on your face. He frowned, quickly realizing. “Ah, sorry,” he replied, looking back down at his book, his ears tinged red.

“Nah it’s all good. I just really didn’t want to have to go to the store today, but that’s what I get for not paying attention, I guess.”

He looked back up at you, worry pulling at his features. “You’re going to the store? In your condition?”

“Not like I have much of a choice! Motherfucker. When it rains, it really does pour. You want anything while I’m out?”

Jongseob stood up. “I’ll go,” he said. 

You burst out laughing. “You? You’re gonna go to the store and buy my tampons? Don’t make me laugh, Jongseob. I appreciate the offer, but it’s all good. I got it.”

His face reddened at your response, but he stood his ground. “Y/n, look at you. You can barely walk. Just let me go, it’s not a big deal.”

“You don’t even know which ones I need!”

“Just… text me a photo of what the package looks like,” he replied quietly. Your face softened. He was really serious about this. And this shouldn’t have embarrassed you this much, but it did. Plus, he was right. You’d been determined to go to the store on your own but you were literally bracing yourself on any surface you could find, just to be able to walk around the house. Plus, you felt like you might have an accident any moment. Whatever happened, it needed to happen soon. 

You dug around in your purse some more, pulled out your credit card, and handed it to him. And for the first time today, you felt your own face heat up. “Okay. Thanks, I really owe you one. I’ll text you what I need.”

“Cool,” he responded, a triumphant smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth but not quite making it. You assumed he was more excited about winning the argument than doing the task at hand. He grabbed his phone and keys and was out the door before you knew it. You headed to the bathroom to take photos of the empty packages of pads and tampons in your cupboard, then walked out into the hall and stood in the empty, quiet apartment for a moment with mixed feelings of warmth, relief, and embarrassment. But then, feeling another wave of pain and nausea coming on, you headed back to your bedroom to lay down.

About half an hour later, you heard the apartment door open, the sound of what could only be Jongseob removing his clunky shoes, and the muffled sound of a plastic bag. Your body relaxed in relief, as you’d become more and more uncomfortable as the time passed. You heard footsteps, followed by a couple gentle knocks at your bedroom door. 

“Come in!” you yelled weakly.

“Hi, um, here’s the stuff,” he began timidly, peeking in. “Do you want me to put it in the bathroom, or–”

“Can you just bring it to me?” you whined. “I’ll put it away, don’t worry about all that. And thank you again, so much. You really didn’t have to do this. I feel weird,” you slapped a hand over your face, peeking up at him. 

“Ah shit, please don’t. I don’t wanna make you feel weird. It’s really okay,” he replied, walking cautiously up to your bed and setting the bag on the floor. “I feel it’s the least I can do for just kinda hanging around here all the time. It’s no big deal at all.” There it was again, that flush spreading across his cheeks. You thought about how you’d been trying to be more sincere, less of a shithead to both him and Shota; and you wondered if he’d been trying to do the same. This softness that he was showing you, it wasn’t totally out of the realm of possibility, but it just wasn’t something you were used to. Not from him.

“Well… thanks. You’ve really made my life a lot easier today,” you responded. He smiled, bowed his head slightly and rushed out, shutting the door softly behind him. You opened the bag and your jaw dropped at the sight. Not only had he gotten both the pads and tampons you needed, but he also grabbed your favorite chocolate and jelly candy. Your eyes watered. When had Jongseob grown up to be such a sweetheart?

You pulled out your phone, not feeling like walking all the way out to the dining room:

y/n: seob!! the candy, are you kidding me? :’)

js: hehe ur welcome

y/n: i know i said I owed you one, but like… for reeeeal. This is fucked up

js: meh, it was your money. I just saw it at the checkout and thought you might want some

y/n: [cry emoji] [heart emoji]

js: [salute emoji] [tongue sticking out emoji]

You went to the bathroom to take care of things, then returned to your room. Feeling much more relaxed than before, you laid in bed once more, snacking on the candy lazily. You could feel your pain medication wearing off, but were too tired to get up and take some more, so you kept scrolling on your phone until you drifted off to sleep.

Your nap was perfect, until suddenly, it wasn’t. Crushing pain in your lower abdomen and back cast waves of nausea throughout your body. You curled up onto your side in the fetal position, trying to find some semblance of comfort, but nothing you were doing was helping. The pain was becoming severe, but you felt like you would scarcely be able to get up. Barely awake, you began to groan in pain, tears threatening to spill, and that’s when you heard the knock on the door. 

“Y/n? You okay?” 

Oh, great. In the haze of your nap, you’d almost forgotten that Jongseob was still here. You moaned a weak response that didn’t really come out as words.

“I’m gonna come in, okay?”

“Kay!” you yelled, eyes squeezed shut. Jongseob walked in a little less cautiously than before. “What’s goin on? What do you need?”

You tried to answer, but were dealing with a cramp so severe it had taken your breath away. You groaned into the pillow. 

“Do you need medicine?”

You nodded, eyes still squeezed shut. 

“Heating pad?”

You nodded again.

“Okay hold tight,” he replied, rushing out. He came back not long after with the heating pad all warmed up, a couple painkillers, and a glass of water. He gave you the heating pad first, so you could lay it across your abdomen, and handed you the painkillers and water. As soon as you took them, you laid back down on the bed, wincing in pain. You hadn’t had a period this bad in a while, and although you’d technically be fine, you were in so much pain you couldn’t think. Your breathing was rapid and you held onto the heating pad for dear life, when you felt a light pressure on your back. 

You hadn’t noticed that Jonseob had sat himself on the bed next to you, but there he was, rubbing gentle circles into your back. At his touch, the tears that were threatening to spill finally came. Not surprisingly, this caused Jongseob to panic. 

“Oh… oh my god I’m sorry, I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked frantically, pausing his movements. You shook your head “no,” and realizing that this situation was way beyond the weirdness of before, just decided to give in to the comfort that was being offered. You grabbed his hand and moved it down to your lower back. 

“Right here. It hurts so bad. Please don’t stop,” you hiccupped pathetically. He hummed gently and began hesitantly, most likely because your shirt had ridden up to expose the skin of your lower back. With the agony you were in, you couldn’t be bothered, but he pulled the back of your shirt down to cover your skin and continued the gentle motions. Your breathing slowed a little, and you leaned into his touch. 

He began humming softly, and as the pain meds started to kick in, your body started to relax more, and, grateful as could be, you felt like you might drift off to sleep again. “Seob?” you said drowsily, your voice wet with barely dried tears.

“Yeah, y/n?” he asked quietly.

“You’ve been so sweet today. But please don’t tell Shota about this. I’ll never hear the end of it. You probably won’t, either,” you said with a wry laugh. Jongseob laughed heartily in response, breaking through the tension in the room with a breath that he seemed to have been holding. 

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on it.”

Chapter 2: Don't Go

Over the next several weeks, you noticed Jongseob coming over a little more often than usual, if that was even possible. He’d started spending the night most weekends and even some weeknights. You’d have to start charging him rent, you thought, laughing inwardly. As if you could ever do that. He constantly complained about how broke he was, and every time you asked him why he moved into the dorms instead of trying to move in with you and Shota, he always offered some lame excuse about the requirements for his financial aid or not wanting to burden you, or he would just change the subject entirely. You really didn’t mind him coming over so much, you just wondered what his thought process really was. It didn’t make any sense.

Meanwhile, winter was coming to an end, and with it, winter term at Jongseob and Shota’s university. One Saturday morning as you were all in the common area, Shota blurted out, “We should do a movie night. To celebrate the end of the term.” You looked up at him from your oatmeal, and Jongseob, sitting next to him on the couch, just replied, “Okay dude, let’s do it. When?”

“Tonight!”

“Tonight?” you and Jongseob both blurted out at the same time. Shota appeared completely unfazed, his eyes glued to the first-person shooter game that Jongseob had been playing with him all morning. “Yeah! Tonight. I’m pretty sure the guys from school should all be available. I’ll text them.” You and Jongseob glanced at each other and smiled. He shook his head and looked back at the television screen. 

“Do the guys from school include Keeho?” you asked, and Shota hissed underneath his breath as his character suddenly died. Jongseob laughed triumphantly at his victory, causing you to restrain your own laughter. His laugh was so funny and shockingly high-pitched, and when it was loud, it almost always caught you off guard. Shota looked over at you. “Yes,” he said blankly, his eyes showing zero understanding of the nuance of your question. You nodded. “Cool. He’s really funny. So I was just wondering.” 

“Yeah, he’s funny. Do you like him?” Shota responded dryly, pulling out his phone nonchalantly. Oh boy, that backfired. “No!” you replied immediately. “Not in that way. I thought. I mean…” you hesitated, suddenly wanting to be swallowed by the floor. “Don’t you?”

“Don’t I what?”

“Like… Keeho?”

Shota looked over at you, dark eyes huge and round, face blank. He was so damn cute, but you wished he was able to pick up on subtext a little better. “Yeah, of course I like Keeho. We wouldn’t be friends if I didn’t.” You looked at Jongseob, but he was just scrolling on his phone, clearly tuning out the both of you. 

“That’s not what I…” you sighed. “Nevermind,” you said with a chuckle, “just let me know if there’s people coming over tonight so we can get ready.” At that, Shota’s phone chimed and he held up an index finger obnoxiously, still looking at his phone. “There is indeed, people coming over tonight!” he yelled, jumping up excitedly and tackling Jongseob on the couch, eliciting a string of screaming and profanity that had you laughing uncontrollably. 

“Alright you little freaks, my only request is that you help clean this place up before everyone comes over,” and at this, they reluctantly stopped their play fight and got to work.

Several hours later, you heard the first knock on the door, and you opened it to find Intak and Jiung, each armed with a 6-pack and a bag full of snacks. You welcomed them in warmly, and before you had a chance to shut the door, Keeho and Taeyang darted up the steps and made their way in as well. 

Shota made a beeline past the other guys towards Keeho and hugged him, laughing and hanging around his neck long after a normal hug would have been over. Yep, here we go , you thought to yourself. Keeho didn’t seem to mind the attention, you noticed, as he kept one hand firmly on Shota’s back and the other free to gesture dramatically while he talked to the others or to sweetly fix Shota’s bleach-damaged bangs when they got tangled over his forehead. You smiled at the affection shown in this group, but made a solemn decision to keep an eye on Keeho. Shota was the most important person in the world to you, and you wouldn’t be able to bear seeing him get hurt.

“Hi,” a voice beckoned behind you, and you turned to look up at Jiung, smiling at you sweetly, his dark, sharp eyes contrasting fiercely with his blazing copper locks. “Sorry, is it okay if we put these beers in the fridge?”

“Of course!” you beckoned him and Intak towards the fridge, helping them move things out of the way to make room for the drinks. Taeyang was still talking and laughing with Keeho and Shota near the entryway, but you noticed that Jongseob was still on the couch, joining in the conversation every now and then but mostly scrolling on his phone and looking a little out of place.

Most of Shota’s friends at school were in dance or some other music-related field (all of the guys who came over tonight were on his dance team), but Jongseob was an English major, making it so that he had some overlap with Shota’s classes but certainly not as much as the other guys. You knew Jongseob was mature and didn’t get jealous too easily, but something about the sight of him being the only one on the couch tugged at your heart, so you took a seat next to him, plopping down with so much force that it jostled him. 

“Sup,” you said, opening a not-yet-cold beer. “Sup,” he half-said, half-laughed, shoving his phone back into his pocket. You offered him your beer and watched out of the corner of your eye as he took the first sip, wincing a little at the bitterness, but recovering quickly. He took another drink, this one a bigger gulp, and you smacked his thigh playfully. “Agh!” he yelled, rubbing his leg, as you got up to fetch another. As you sat back down next to him and opened the second beer, he offered you a sheepish smile. “Sorry. Thanks.”

You rolled your eyes at him playfully, sipping your drink, as the rest of the guys started to congregate closer to the living room. It had been a while since you and Shota had had people over, and you were reminded of how small your place was. With just the couch and loveseat, there probably wasn’t enough room for everyone. 

“Ah shit, do we need to grab some floor cushions or a chair from the dining room?” you started, but Intak and Jiung urged you to sit, reassuring you that everyone would fit just fine. 

Shota sat Keeho down on the loveseat next to him, while the other three guys squeezed onto the couch next to you and Jongseob. Jongseob had been seated at the far left side of the couch, so to your right sat Intak, Jiung, and on the very right side Taeyang, who was squeezed so tightly against the arm of the couch that he ended up sitting on the floor between Jiung’s legs. You began to stand up again, stressed about the hosting situation and kicking yourself for not preparing better.

“Taeyang, can I please get you a pillow, or–” 

“Ma’am!” he screamed too-loudly, eliciting an eruption of laughter from the rest of the guys. Taeyang had such a pretty and elegant face, that it contrasted hilariously with his near-constant ear-shattering yelling. “Please sit down,” he demanded. “My ass is cushion enough. I’ll just lay on top of all of you if I get uncomfy.”

“Okay, okay, suit yourself” you laughed, holding your hands up defensively and realizing you were no match for the most diva-esque of Shota’s dance friends. You didn’t love being referred to as “ma’am,” but Taeyang was so funny that you could let it slide.

Shota turned on the TV and started scrolling through the movies when you realized you didn’t even know what movie he’d planned on making everyone watch, but when he landed on an incredibly disturbing horror movie and started it gleefully, you realized you wouldn’t have even needed to guess. Despite looking like an actual cherub, your brother was obsessed with all things horror, to the point that you weren’t even sure if he watched any other genre.

The movie started and you tried getting comfortable, but found it embarrassingly difficult to ignore the seating situation. Despite Taeyang’s gracious decision to sit on the floor, you were still squeezed snugly on the couch with the other guys, tightly enough that your thighs and arms were pressed against Jongseob on your left and Intak on your right. The contrast between the two was distracting: Jongseob on your left was not much shorter than Intak but he was so much smaller. He was wearing a cozy gray sweatsuit but you could feel the smallness of his body underneath it, his arms thin from spending all his spare time reading and writing. You could also tell that he was trying to make himself small, to give you as much space as possible – despite how futile that was.

Intak, on the other hand, was large, solid, and muscular, dressed in fitted jeans and a boat-necked black t-shirt that dipped slightly to display his defined collarbones. He wasn’t quite manspreading, but he certainly seemed to feel comfortable taking up space, his hand resting on his thigh, and consequently touching yours passively. Once you’d noticed this, there was no paying attention to the movie. You tried your hardest, but ever since Jongseob had rubbed your back when your period cramps were about to kill you weeks before, you’d realized how embarrassingly touch-starved you were. 

You figured, however, that Jongseob probably just saw you as an older sister. Intak, on the other hand, had flirted with you on more than one occasion, and he was absolutely stunning. Still, something about the situation had you feeling slightly uneasy, a feeling that went away gradually with each beer. 

The movie ended up devolving into everyone taking a drink every time Keeho or Taeyang screamed (which honestly just sounded like an excuse to get really fucked up really fast). You’d been taking tiny sips, but it didn’t seem like the others had, since Shota was basically laying on Keeho at this point, Taeyang was screaming at Jiung to rub his shoulders and Jiung was clearly about to snap; plus, Intak had started to brush his hand up against your thigh a little more carelessly, and Jongseob… wait, where was Jongseob?

He’d gone to the restroom but that had seemed like a little while ago. So either he was shitting his brains out, or…

You got up from the couch quickly and headed towards the bathroom. Knock knock knock , you tapped on the door quietly, trying not to alert anyone else back in the living room. “Seob? You okay?” you asked quietly, your face pressed to the door. The only thing you heard on the other side of the door was slurred murmuring, which was concerning. You tried the door handle and it was unlocked. Cracking the door just a tad, you announced, “I’m gonna come in, okay?” The only response you heard was a defeated-sounding groan, but it didn’t sound like a protest, so you carefully tiptoed through the door and latched it quietly behind you. 

The sight you saw next was one of the most pitiful you’d seen in your entire life, and it made your heart lurch painfully in your chest. Jongseob was hugging the toilet bowl, sitting with his legs to one side. He had stripped down to his white undershirt; he’d lost his sweatshirt and it was hanging halfway out of the bathtub. You could see a thin sheen of sweat on his arm, on which was resting his head, the ends of his hair sticking to the back of his neck uncomfortably. 

You walked over to him and got down on your knees, your legs a little wobbly, as you realized that you were a little drunker yourself than you’d realized. “Sorry Seob, I should have made sure you were drinking water. You okay?” He nodded into the toilet bowl and groaned, still not looking up. But in the next moment, he retched, and seemed to only be dry-heaving; you realized he’d probably already vomited everything in his stomach. You felt a sudden surge of melancholic protectiveness, and began rubbing his back. You could feel his shoulder blades poking out; he was so small, and as it dawned on you that he was probably a hopeless lightweight, you made a mental note to yourself to never let him drink around you again without you keeping an eye on him.

Bang Bang Bang!

The sound of someone pounding on the door made you jolt. “Occupied! Use the one in my room!” you yelled, and heard sloppy-sounding footsteps headed towards your room. That must have been Shota. You turned your attention back to the mess before you. Jongseob hadn’t moved from his position, his head still resting on his arm. You wondered if he was asleep, and with your other free hand, you began to run your fingers through his hair gently, pushing it out of his face. His hair wasn’t yet long enough to “hold up” while he puked, but you figured this was some kind of equivalent. 

After doing this for a few minutes and making yourself sleepy in the process, you got up, grabbed an empty glass from the counter, and filled it with tap water. “Okay buddy, are you ready to sip some water?” you asked, to which he answered with a vehement shake of his head “no.” You sighed. “What about rinsing your mouth out, at least?” It looked like he was about to shake his head again but he paused and turned slightly towards you, accepting the glass of water. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes glanced at you for a moment to accept the water before taking a sip and spitting the water into the toilet. “There you go,” you encouraged, taking the glass from him. 

He put his arms back up on the toilet seat and rested his head there again, but this time turned towards you. He made eye contact with you and started giggling, which made you giggle back, but you didn’t know what you were laughing at. You were just still a little drunk. “Y/n,” he whined, his voice low, raspy, and tired, as he closed his eyes again. “Yeah?” you replied, smiling and ruffling his hair. “Thisis… ssoo embarrassing.” You couldn’t help but laugh again, at his slurred speech, but also at the situation. “Eh, it happens to the best of us, don’t sweat it,” you reassured him, patting his back lightly. 

Head still resting on his arms, he opened his eyes and looked at you sideways again, but this time he didn’t say anything, he just stared, a goofy smile on his face. You noticed that the flushing in his face brought out his freckles, and this realization made your throat a little dry for some reason. You took a sip of the water and cleared your throat. You looked back and he was still staring at you. You made your eyes dart to the left and right, then shrugged. “What?” you asked him, feeling more and more self-conscious by the moment. He giggled. “Nothing,” he replied, still smiling. 

“Okay funny guy, I think it’s time to get you to bed,” you announced, motioning towards him but generally unclear on how you were going to make this happen. “Just leave me here, y/n,” he argued. “I’ll sleep in the tub. Plus, I might throw up again.”

“You are not going to sleep in the tub, dude, you’ll wake up unable to move your neck and it’ll be my fault for letting you. C’mon, you’ll be way more comfy in a bed. Here, hold onto me,” you instructed him as he slung an arm around your shoulder to help you half-walk, half-carry him out of the bathroom and towards Shota’s room. But when you arrived at his doorway, the door wide open, you found Shota in bed, limbs tangled with none other than Keeho’s, both of them fast asleep. It dawned on you that if anyone else had stayed over, they’d likely be taking up the couches.

You sighed. “Okay change of plans,” you said, leading him to your own bedroom instead. You opened the door, led him inside, and plopped him down onto your bed. You helped him get under the covers and were about to go back out to the living room when Jongseob wordlessly grabbed your hand. 

You paused and bent down towards him. “Seob? You need anything else?”

“Don’t go,” he responded sleepily, eyes closed, clearly half-asleep if not fully asleep at this point. You’d been so stressed out seeing him this sick for the first time that you were nearly powerless against his request. You ran your free hand through your hair, weighing your options and unsure of what to do, when Jongseob yanked you into bed. 

There was no way he knew what he was doing, you thought, and you were a little worried about what would happen in the morning, but right now you were tired, still buzzed, and not in the mood to fight, so you got under the covers and let him cuddle up next to you. You laid on your back as he turned towards you, slung his arm around your waist, and pressed his face against your arm. You stared at the ceiling, stifling laughter at the absurdity of your situation, while trying to ignore the way your heart rate sped up. It was probably just the alcohol, you thought, as you drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 3: Waking Up

You woke up the next morning to the sensation of your head pounding. You opened your eyes, looked at the ceiling, glanced to your left and nearly jumped out of your skin. Jongseob was curled up towards the wall away from you, his hair sticking out in all directions, lightly snoring. You looked down and you were fully clothed; he was too. You clutched your chest, letting out a huge exhale of relief, as the previous night’s memories started to come back to you. 

You gingerly crept out of bed, trying not to disturb him. Thinking back on how sick he'd been, you figured he would be asleep for a while. You grabbed a glass, filled it with water from the bathroom, and quietly set it on the nightstand with a couple aspirin and a piece of ginger candy. You left the bedroom, latching the door gently, and headed out to the living room, passing Shota’s room on your way. You glanced in as you walked by: sleepy Shota, but no Keeho. The rest of the place was empty too, so you figured the guys had all gotten up a little earlier and headed home; it was late in the morning, after all. 

As you started picking up beer cans and prepared to make breakfast, Shota wandered down the hall, looking at you sleepily. “Good morning, party animal!” you teased. He groaned and smiled, rubbing his face. “So… you and Keeho? Last night?” you inquired carefully. “What about us?” Shota responded, confused. You gave him a look. “Dude. You guys went to bed together.”

“Oh yeah, that! I was in a cuddly mood – you know how I get when I drink – and there was no room for him in the living room since Jiung and Intak took up the couch and Taeyang took the loveseat.”

“Oh. So… just… friend stuff?”

Shota looked at you, more confused than ever. “Y/n, you get so weird whenever you talk about Keeho. Are you sure you don’t have a crush on him?”

You laughed, annoyed at how dense he was. “Trust me, I’m good. I don’t think I’m his type.”

“You never know!”

“Oh, I think I might…” you muttered under your breath, quietly enough that he couldn’t hear you. “Oh, about last night. Shota, I’m gonna tell you something… and you have to promise not to get all weird about it.”

“No promises, but what’s up?” Shota asked, his curiosity piqued. At that moment, you heard your bedroom door open, and you both looked in that direction. Shota looked at you, his brows furrowed inquisitively, and before you saw him, you both heard Jongseob yelling down the hall, “Y/n? Why was I in your bed?”

Shota’s eyes widened. “You did not ,” to which you exclaimed “I swear it’s not what it looks like!” and as Jongseob entered the common area, Shota gave him a horrified look, which was all the false confirmation he needed to start panicking. “O-oh my god, don’t tell me we–”

“You slept with my sister , dude? Really?” Shota demanded. He didn’t look mad, just in abject shock. Jongseob’s face looked like it was burning up, and this nightmare of a conversation had moved so quickly and chaotically that you hadn’t been able to get a word in, but you were fed up.

“Both of you shut the fuck up!” you yelled, a little louder than you meant to. Shota’s head snapped towards you, his eyes large and focused. You immediately regretted your volume; he hated it when you got angry. Jongseob looked in your direction but couldn’t seem to make eye contact with you, his face still on fire. 

“Jongseob, listen. You got really sick last night. I was going to put you in Shota’s bed but Keeho was there – I know, I know, stay focused, that is not what we’re talking about right now,” you snapped as Jongseob stifled laughter and glanced in Shota’s direction before turning his attention towards you again. “So I put you in my bed and I was gonna go find somewhere else to sleep, but you yanked me into bed like a clingy little monkey. Nothing weird. We just slept.” 

Silence hung in the air for a few agonizing moments. “Y/n, why didn’t you just say that?” Shota asked innocently, a guilty smile forming on his face. You darted over to him and put your hands on his neck, mock-strangling him, as he screamed and pretended to be murdered by you, and Jongseob’s laughter broke the tension in the room even more. 

Once you’d wrestled Shota to the floor and then forced him and Jongseob to begin cleaning up the rest of the mess in the living room, you started on breakfast burritos for the three of you. As Jongseob bent over to pick up one of the cans, however, he held his hand to his head, grimacing. You tried not to notice, but felt yourself watching him a little more closely since last night, feeling a little more protective than usual. “Seob? Did you take the aspirin I left on my nightstand?” you asked. His eyes darted towards you, looking embarrassed. “Ah, um, no, I didn’t realize that was for me.” You smiled, rolled your eyes and waved him off in the direction of your bedroom, and he shuffled off down the hall. 

You pulled a bag of frozen hashbrowns out of the freezer and poured some into a preheated pan, stirred it around with some cooking oil, and popped a lid onto it to let them soften up. Shota headed to the bathroom as Jongseob came back out. To your surprise, he took up the space next to you and started helping with the prep, chopping the block of ham that you’d pulled out. He didn’t normally help you cook breakfast when he was over, so this was a nice change.

“Hey,” he began.

“Uh, hey?” you said, looking over at him with a confused smile. He didn’t look at you, and kept his eyes on what he was doing. “I wanted to thank you. Y’know… for taking care of me last night. I feel really bad about it, and pretty embarrassed. You shouldn’t have had to deal with that.” You could see the tips of his ears reddening, and grabbed one of them playfully, eliciting a surprised yell from him. “Back it up,” he yelled, “or I’ll touch you with my ham hands!” he held his hands out to you menacingly and you put your hands up in surrender, laughing. 

“Listen, don’t feel bad. It’s fine. I said this to you last night, and I’ll say it again, but… it happens to the best of us. I’ve been there before, so I know how nice it is to have someone looking after you,” you reassured him. He looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite place, his melancholic brown eyes filled with a mixture of gratefulness, shame, and something else that took you slightly off guard. “Plus,” you continued, deciding to step out on a limb with what you were about to say.

 “You’re pretty cuddly. It could have been worse.”

Jongseob’s jaw dropped and he looked like he was about to say something, but just covered his face and dropped into a squat, a low scream muffled by his hands. You laughed triumphantly, ruffling his already-messy bleach-damaged hair. However, although you’d meant to tease him , you felt your own face heating up, and felt grateful that he wasn’t looking at you.

You went back to cooking, as Shota came out and sat on the couch, started up the gaming console, and yelled at Jongseob to come join him. Jongseob squinted his eyes at you and you stuck your tongue out at him teasingly, before he left the kitchen. 

The rest of the day went as normal, the three of you just hanging on the couch, until Shota heard his phone chime and let out a small gasp. You wondered if it was finally Keeho’s confession.

“Y/n?” he looked over at you.

“Yeah?” you answered, raising your eyebrows at him and smiling expectantly.

“Intak… wants to know if I can give him your number.”

You stared at him. Jongseob looked at Shota, then at you, brows raised. You glanced at Jongseob, then back at Shota, whose eyes were wide, waiting for your response.

 “U-uh, I mean, sure? Why not, right?” you replied. You couldn’t think of a good reason to say no. You were single, and apparently he was too (you’d hoped so, based on the signals he was putting out last night), he was attractive, really attractive. He seemed nice. 

“Yeah, I mean, it’s up to you entirely,” Shota responded, his face a blank slate. You furrowed your brows, annoyed at his lack of emotion on the matter. “Well, you know him better than I do. Do you think it’s a good idea? Are you comfortable giving him my number?”

Shota looked down and bit his thumbnail for a moment, appearing to be deep in thought. He looked back up at you and smiled brightly. “Yeah. He’s a good guy. I don’t see why not.” You glanced at Jongseob, whose face seemed to fall ever so slightly at Shota’s endorsement. But he looked away right as you caught this. “What’s the problem, Seob? You think he’s too young for me?” you teased. Intak was a couple years older than Jongseob, but still several years younger than you. 

“No!” he insisted, his ears turning pink as he scrolled on his phone casually. You eyed him suspiciously, then looked back at Shota. “Alright, just give it to him I guess.”

“Okayyy,” Shota sang, texting Intak back furiously. 

The remainder of the afternoon dragged on lazily, with the guys playing video games on the couch, and you restlessly moving from the living room to the kitchen to your bedroom, wanting to be productive but feeling too tired from the alcohol the night prior. Later that evening as you scrolled in bed, you received a text from an unknown number. You smiled and opened it, a gentle flutter in your stomach as you’d guessed correctly: Intak. 

You texted back and forth with him for a while, just light smalltalk at first. He asked how you were feeling after last night, you asked how he got home and apologized for disappearing in the middle of the movie. You left out the part about Jongseob getting sick and sleeping in your bed, wanting to protect his privacy, so you made it sound like you were the one who wasn’t feeling well. He said he thought you were really pretty, and that he’d love to take you out sometime, causing you to blush and hide under the covers even though you were completely alone in your room. 

As you drifted off to sleep, you felt giddy, but slightly off. You assumed it was just the nervousness at the prospect of talking to someone after so long. 

Yes… that had to be it.

Chapter 4: Settling Down

You and Intak had continued texting almost nonstop since that evening, and had settled on going to see a movie the next weekend, Friday night. He’d asked which movie you wanted to see – you said you didn’t care – and the both of you therefore ended up settling on an action movie that you really didn’t care for. It was, however, fun. Intak was a perfect gentleman: he picked you up, paid for and carried the snacks, and when he dropped you off, he didn’t ask to come inside. At the front door of your apartment, he did, however, lean in to kiss you. 

This caught you by surprise, but it wasn’t totally unwelcome. You closed your eyes and leaned into it. His lips were slightly chapped but soft nonetheless, and the kiss was over before you knew it; chaste, and quick. You smiled at him, your face warm against the cool spring night air. He smiled back bashfully, looking to the side and biting his lip. “Text me?” he asked. “Yeah,” you responded quietly. He touched your arm briefly before heading down the stairs, as you walked into the apartment. 

You stepped inside, the smile still plastered on your face, but the moment you walked inside, you regretted not controlling your face better: Soul and Jongseob immediately started to roast you. 

“Oooooooo, who’s got you smiling like that?” Soul yelled from the couch, wiggling all his fingers at you teasingly. Before you could control it, you could feel all the blood rush to your face and Soul started laughing maniacally. You made eye contact with Jongseob and he gave you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, but he didn’t say anything, just looked back at the TV and giggled quietly next to Soul. 

“Leave me alone ,” you groaned, unable to stop smiling, now thoroughly embarrassed as you opened the fridge door aimlessly, mostly to make yourself seem busy. You collected your thoughts and your body suddenly noticed the constricting sensations of your date night outfit, which you couldn’t wait to get rid of. You hurried to your room and changed, coming back out in baggy sweats and a tank top, headed to the fridge, and opened a beer. 

You took a long, cold gulp of it in the kitchen, then walked over and sat down on the couch next to Jongseob who was sitting cross-legged, his loose olive-green shorts bunching past the knees, and an oversized black band t-shirt pooling in his lap. You’d noticed his dark roots had started coming in, and thought the contrast against the blonde actually looked nice. 

“So?” Jongseob asked, catching you off guard, as you turned to look at him and he was giving you a mischievous smile, his eyebrows raised. “So what?” you responded, sincerely confused. “What movie did you guys see? How was the date?” he asked, looking at you like you were crazy. For some reason, Kim Jongseob asking you how your date went made you feel strange, as butterflies threatened to break through your ribcage and you felt your face heating up again. You recovered quickly, though. 

“It was good!” you answered, trying your best to look and sound casual. “We saw that new Godzilla one, I can’t remember the name of it. Lots of carnage and explosions and mayhem, Soul would have loved it.” Soul’s eyes stayed glued to the television screen, his fingers working furiously at the video game he was playing, and whined loudly, “Dammit y/n, I really wanted to see that one!” 

“Just because I saw it doesn’t mean you can’t also see it, you little weirdo. Don’t worry, I won’t spoil it,” you responded, laughing at his immature reaction. Jongseob’s eyes went back to the TV, his questions stopping there. You felt like he wanted to ask more, but didn’t want to press. Something in his demeanor tonight was confusing, and you couldn’t quite figure out what it was. But something seemed off.

The next morning you came out to the kitchen in your pajamas and saw that Jongseob was already in the dining room doing homework. It didn’t look like Soul was awake yet. “Good morning!” you greeted him cheerfully as you started the electric kettle. “Morning,” he responded, sounding heavily distracted, his back hunched as he typed furiously on his laptop. 

You knew he must be in focused-writing mode, because he was usually much friendlier when you came out, so you decided to leave him be. You popped a couple slices of whole wheat bread in the toaster and continued making your tea. Jongseob sighed audibly, catching your attention. You looked over at him, his chin propped in his hand, expression looking displeased. “Everything okay over there?” you asked cautiously. 

“Yeah,” he replied, unconvincingly. “Actually, Y/n, would you mind doing me a huge favor?” he asked, turning towards you inquisitively. You looked back at him, wondering what it could be. “Uh, I guess? What’s up?” you answered hesitantly, bringing your breakfast to the table as he angled his laptop in your direction.

“It’s this piece I’m working on for my poetry class. I keep going over it again and again, but there’s something off about it. I don’t like it. It felt different in my head, and I’m not sure what the problem is. Will you read it and let me know what you think?”

“Oh yeah, for sure,” you replied, relieved that it wasn’t really anything serious. You did a quick scroll through the document and it was pretty long, about a page and a half. You scrolled up to the top and started reading. About halfway through, you realized it was a poem about unrequited love. Something in your chest tugged. The idea of Jongseob longing for someone and them not returning his feelings made you feel a little sick to your stomach. Did this poem come from personal experience? Or was he just drawing on other inspiration, trying to come up with something for the class?

Realizing you had stopped paying attention to what the lines said, you subtly started over, but not subtly enough to avoid alerting Jongseob. “Ugh, is it that hard to get through? See, I tried to make it flow well but I’m worried I keep overthinking it and–” 

“No it’s not that,” you interrupted him, “I think I’m just still waking up. I don’t read a ton of poetry so I gotta get myself into poem-reading mode. But also…” you hesitated for a moment, “..this piece is kind of a bummer. Don’t tell me someone’s got you brokenhearted, dude.”

Jongseob flushed deeply but played it off immediately, clearing his throat and immediately replying, “Oh it’s just for the assignment, I’m drawing on a bunch of different stuff, don’t worry ‘bout it.” You laughed in response, noting how pink his face got. You weren’t convinced, but decided against pushing any further.

As you started over and continued slowly through the poem, you reached the end and realized you knew what he meant. The last bit of the piece fell a little flat, like the emotion throughout didn’t quite carry through to the end, or like something was being left out. You read the last third again, and rested your chin on your hand, fingers drumming on your cheek thoughtfully. “Okay, I see what you mean. It’s totally this last chunk. It almost feels… dishonest?”

“How do you mean?” he asked, scooting his chair next to yours, brows furrowed and angling the laptop towards him slightly and studying the screen as he strained to read the section you referenced. You tried not to react to his face suddenly being so close to yours, as you used the trackpad to highlight the beginning of the part that seemed off.

“Like, starting right here. It kinda feels like it switches to something a little too analytical. Like, I dunno, like the poem is trying too hard?” You scroll up to the beginning of the poem. “See, the way it begins and the way it flows into the middle, you’re describing a feeling in a way that feels very emotional. Like the reader can really feel what you’re feeling. There’s a certain rawness to it.” 

“Mhm, okay,” Jongseob responded, nodding his head as he continued listening to your feedback.

“But right… here,” you continued, hovering the cursor on the second page near the end, “it’s like you back away emotionally and start getting a little too smarty-pants about it. Don’t get me wrong, the writing is still really good but it just suddenly becomes so much less personal-feeling. Like in the first part of the poem you’re describing the feeling of falling in love, but then in the very last part you try to be clever about the unrequited feelings, instead of continuing with that vulnerability. And… I dunno, I guess that could be intentional and still make a lot of sense artistically, even more so, but it just doesn’t flow. It loses that rawness and just doesn’t feel as honest.”

“Mmmm,” Jongseob hummed in response. He rested his face in his hand and leaned back in the chair, crossing one leg over the other, still staring at the screen. He ran his hand through his unstyled hair, barely achieving anything as it flopped right back down into his face. “Okay, yeah, that’s good. I see what you mean. That’s super helpful. And uh, sorry to bum you out so early in the morning,” he added with a shy smile, canines peeking out just barely as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Hey, no worries, happy I could help. Your writing is, like, really good. I know I’m not great at compliments and I basically just tease you and Shota nonstop, but… you are seriously talented.”

Jongseob smiled, bowing his head shyly. “Thanks, y/n. That means a lot coming from you.” 

You fought the urge to come back with a sarcastic response and just opted for ruffling his hair and getting up from the table. In the kitchen washing your plate, you paused and turned back towards him again. “Hey, Seob?”

“Yeah?” he asked, not looking up from his laptop.

“You know you can.. Uh… like, if you need to talk about anything. Or whatever. You know I’m here, right?”

Jongseob looked up at you, his eyes wide and filled with a mixture of embarrassment and affection. “Thanks. Yeah, I guess. I appreciate that.” You smiled back at him, finished up in the kitchen, then headed to the couch to read a book. But not long after, Jongseob joined you, gently plopping down on the couch next to you. Wedging one foot on the couch to get more comfortable, he opened up a book of his own and started reading. 

Your throat felt tight and you found it difficult to focus on the words on the page, having to read the same paragraph over and over. Something about the scene made your heart feel so… full. And warm. You managed to calm down and savored the moments of peaceful parallel reading before Shota woke up to start filling the house with playful noise.

Chapter 5: Let's Go

The next couple months were mostly a blur, with Intak (and the rest of the guys, really) coming over nearly every weekend to do everything from watching movies to playing video games or board games, or sometimes just sitting around with some beers and talking shit. 

Even though spring term had begun and everyone had a mostly full course load, they all still made time to have fun on the weekends, which you respected. It’s not something you had found yourself doing when you were working on your undergrad (which led to some serious burnout), and like your past self, there was only one person in particular who ever missed these hangouts: Jongseob. 

As the year had progressed, you’d noticed that he’d become increasingly diligent with his coursework, constantly typing away on his laptop, or laying on the couch with his nose stuck in a book. On the weekends, he was the first person up and the last person you saw before going to bed, his face always lit up by his screen – which, you’d noted, had the brightness turned all the way up and would probably result in him needing glasses before he graduated. 

Meanwhile, you and Intak were casually dating at this point. But despite the dates, the constant texting, and the few late-night flings, you found yourself not feeling particularly intimate with him. You hoped he’d feel the same, because you’d hate to make things weird in the friend group. Not that Shota wasn’t already doing that with Keeho – whatever it was that they had going on; you tried not to think about it too much. But with Intak, he was such a romantic, and for now at least, you wanted things to stay casual and simple.

At the same time, you’d noticed that Jongseob had started to become a little more distant. It made sense, since he was so busy with school, and since you’d started seeing someone. But for some reason you couldn’t place, for a reason that eluded logic and that you felt deep in your gut, you didn’t like it. You’d felt like the two of you had become closer for a bit, and then he had started to withdraw. He didn’t smile as much. And he seemed so overworked. 

For that reason, on a particularly sunny Saturday, with Shota gone at an extra-long dance practice with Intak and the others, you decided to take Jongseob on a surprise picnic. 

On one of the nights that Jongseob had surprised you by staying up with everyone, you were all playing a drinking game which included a mini version of “never have I ever,” during which it was divulged that Jongseob had never gone on a picnic before. Everyone started babying and teasing him the moment he divulged this information, lamenting that his youth had been wasted on studying, although he hadn’t seemed to mind – he didn’t realize what he was missing, after all.

You’d gotten all the supplies the night before, complete with food and snacks, drinks, playing cards, and a frisbee. You didn’t own an aesthetically pleasing picnic basket and even considered buying one, but they were so expensive and you already had a cooler and other bags to carry the supplies in, so you decided to be frugal and skip it.

After taking a quick shower, you threw on some light makeup and a comfortable outfit and headed out to the living room. But shit , your heart was racing. You suddenly felt incredibly dumb, staring Jongseob down as he lounged on the couch in his pajamas, reading a book for one of his classes. He looked up, glanced down at your outfit, and blinked a couple times before saying, “Morning, Y/n. You look nice. What’s up?”

You fought the heat that crept into your face as you responded, “Get dressed, bitch, we’re going on a picnic.”

He blinked a couple more times, his mouth hanging open, then closed, before he burst out laughing. You put a hand on your hip while you waited for him to finish; you acted annoyed, but it was nice hearing him laugh so hard after how quiet he’d been lately. 

He looked back down at his book and then glanced up at you, your hand still on your hip, your eyebrows raised expectantly. “Oh shit, you’re serious. Uhh, sorry, I don’t think I have time to–”

“Yes you do,” you interrupted him, walking over and snatching the book out of his hands, making sure not to lose his place. He made a low whining noise of annoyance and threw his head back on the couch, defeated, staring back at you from under his too-long bangs. He stuck his bottom lip out and tried blowing upwards to get them out of his face, but they just landed right back in the same spot, covering up his eyes again. 

“Seob, you’ve been working yourself to death lately. I know you have a lot to do, but you’ve gotta take a break every now and then.”

“I do take breaks!”

“Doom scrolling on your phone in between homework sessions isn’t a break,” you retorted, and he rolled his eyes. You continued, “You need to go outside. Bring your work if you have to, but you’ve gotta get some fresh air and relax at least a little bit.”

At this suggestion, his face softened as he appeared to realize you weren’t going to let him get out of this. “Okay, fine,” he moaned, standing up from the couch as he headed towards Shota’s room to get dressed. “Hurry up,” you yelled down the hall at him as you started packing everything into the cooler. 

He came back out after just a minute, dressed in a white oversized long-sleeve button-up, some denim shorts so baggy and long that they might as well have been pants, and a pair of white high-top sneakers. Your eyes drifted downwards and noticed nearly half the bottom buttons on his shirt were left undone, and narrowed your eyes, wondering if it was on purpose or if he’d only half dressed himself amidst his morning sleepiness. Before you had the chance to interject, he pocketed his phone, sweeping a portion of the shirt aside, clearly aware of its unbuttoned state. Weirdo , you thought stubbornly, shouldering the cooler. 

“You ready?”

“Let’s go,” he responded with a sweet smile, his book bag slung over his shoulder. He’d left his hair mostly unstyled so it hung limply around his neck and nearly covered his eyes. You envied him for how effortlessly cute he looked – now, and all the time – especially when you always had to make an effort to look put-together. 

As the two of you got into your old reliable Honda and started heading to the park near your apartment complex, your mouth went dry as it dawned on you that you and Jongseob never really went anywhere together without Shota. You took a nervous sip out of your water bottle. You’d been so confident about it before, so adamant in your mind that it wouldn’t be weird, but you found yourself struggling to come up with what to talk about, so you turned on the radio and both of you listened together in silence. Jongseob stared at his phone for most of the drive casually, and you wondered if he felt as awkward as you did. Probably not, you thought, as you breathed a sigh of relief once you approached the parking lot for the park. 

“You ever been here?” you asked him as you pulled the cooler out of your trunk. “Nope, never have,” he responded as he scanned the area, taking it all in. The park was well-maintained, boasting multiple healthy and shady trees, lush green grass, and even a duck pond off to one side. There were picnic tables scattered about, and a walking path, but you decided to spread out the patterned blanket underneath one of your favorite shady trees. 

He plopped down cross-legged on the blanket as you set down the cooler, opened the lid, and started setting everything out. In just a few minutes, you had a fully stocked charcuterie board ready to go, along with sparkling strawberry lemonade and a variety of sweets on the side. You knew Jongseob didn’t like bread very much, so you’d skipped the baguette that you normally would have gotten and opted instead for crackers, cheese, cured meats, pickled vegetables, and everything in between. 

As you set it all out, you felt a sudden rush of shame at the lengths you’d go to prepare something like this just for Jongseob, and realized that it would probably be best not to tell Shota – he’d be way too jealous. You reluctantly looked up at Jongseob and his eyes were wide and shining, glancing from the food up to you. “Y/n, this is crazy. I mean, it looks so good though. You should at least let me pay you back for some of it.” 

“Nah, bro, you’re good,” you responded as nonchalantly as you could, avoiding eye contact and filling a mini plate with food. You poured him a clear plastic cup of lemonade and handed it to him, and once your eyes met his, he continued. “Why, though? Why are you doing this for me? Please don’t get the wrong idea,” he immediately added as you opened your mouth to respond, and he continued, “I just feel bad. This is really nice. Thank you.”

“It’s really okay, please don’t feel bad. I just wanted to have a picnic,” you lied through your teeth, “and I knew you’d be laying around at my house so I wanted some company.”

“Oh, so I’m here to fulfill your own selfish purposes, huh?” he laughed, sipping the lemonade. You grinned arrogantly, but couldn’t keep up the charade fully. “Well, yes, partially. But it also seems like you’ve been under a lot of stress lately. I know you’re busy, but the way you’ve been so withdrawn this past month… it just…” you thought for a moment about what you were going to say next, his eyes on you curiously as you rubbed the back of your neck and looked out to the pond. “The way you’re constantly working and rarely taking a break these days, it makes me think of my more stressful undergrad days. I didn’t have anyone looking out for me and I got really burnt out. I didn’t know how to rest without feeling guilty.” 

At that last comment, Jongseob’s face flushed slightly pink and he tried to suppress an embarrassed smile. You could tell you’d struck a chord, so you continued as he shoved an entire macaron into his mouth, seemingly now comfortable with being spoiled. “I understand the pressure of feeling like everything you do has to be your absolute best. But trust me, it doesn’t. And I know that seems so backwards, but it will pay off in the long run if you make some small sacrifices to protect your sanity.” He chewed quietly, contemplating your words. 

When he looked up at you, you gave him a reassuring smile and you both relaxed into a comfortable silence while you ate. After a few minutes, Jongseob said, so quietly you could barely hear him, “Thanks, y/n. I don’t really have anyone else looking out for me like this. I don’t say it often enough, but I appreciate you, so much.” Your throat went dry at the compliment and you started coughing and reached for your drink. Your coughing fit died down and when you looked up at him, he was staring at you, holding back a laugh. You both burst out laughing in that moment, and you felt his barriers come tumbling down. 

“Why the fuck are we so bad at sincerity? I swear to god, every time I’m around you and Shota I feel like I have the emotional maturity of a middle schooler,” Jongseob admitted, voice raised, and you started laughing harder, feeling relief as the tension of the situation began to melt. 

To further get the jitters out, you felt like now would be a good time for frisbee so you pulled it out of your bag, pulled Jongseob up to his feet, and started throwing the disc back and forth. The game eventually ended prematurely when Jongseob accidentally threw the frisbee into the duck pond, far enough into it that there was no way of retrieving it. He apologized profusely and insisted he would buy you a new one as you both threw yourselves onto the blanket in the shaded area once again. 

“Damn, Jongseob, I knew you weren’t much of an athlete but I didn’t know it was that bad,” you teased him relentlessly, since every time he had thrown you the frisbee before losing it in the pond, you had to run every which way to retrieve it since he was hopeless at throwing it straight. He laid back and lifted his arms to cover his face and groaned, pushing his bangs upwards and out of his face, which was now coated in a light sheen of sweat. He took a deep breath, apologizing again. 

He then turned onto his side with surprising quickness, his head propped up on his fist, and trained his eyes on your face. “So, you and Intak? How’s that going, if you don’t mind me asking?” His face lost confidence with each moment of silence you spent thinking about how to reply. “Oh also, you can tell me to fuck off since it’s none of my business and you are in no way obligated to–”

“Oh my god stop , it’s fine,” you said with an appreciative smile and pushed him gently. “Uhm, me and Intak,” you mused, looking away thoughtfully, crossing your legs the opposite direction and snacking on some of the leftover food. “Things are going fine, I guess. No complaints. Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” he replied swiftly, his mouth downturned and shaking his head nonchalantly. “Was just curious. So he’s a good boyfriend? You’re happy, right?”

For some reason these questions knocked the breath out of you and despite how normal they were, you suddenly felt conflicted about how to answer them, so you just replied automatically, “Oh, yeah, he’s great. We’re great. Everything’s great.”

“Cool! Yeah, that’s good” Jongseob answered, pressing the issue no further, his eyebrows raised inoffensively, attempting to show you he truly didn’t want to be nosy. He rarely asked you stuff like this, so it had caught you off guard, but you were particularly disturbed by the fact that your first instinct was to feel conflicted, rather than confident, when answering his questions in the way you had. 

You truly had no complaints about Intak. He was kind, funny, and very thoughtful. He did everything right, he was considerate, and he never made you feel uncomfortable. So why, why , did you start to feel that funny feeling in your gut when Jongseob asked you about it?

“Hey, I didn’t mean anything by that, I was just trying to make conversation, are you okay?” Jongseob asked, concern straining his features. You realized you’d started staring off into nowhere and biting the inside of your cheek nervously, and felt immediately regret that you’d probably made him feel like he upset you. “Oh shit, I was just zoning out, you’re totally fine,” you responded, shaking your head vehemently, waving your hands back and forth erratically. 

“Okay bro, as long as you’re sure,” he said, not looking convinced, but picked up one of his books and started reading, one arm up under his head for support. You’d brought one of your own books as well because you knew he’d probably want to spend part of the picnic getting at least a little work done, and laid on your stomach parallel to him, propped up on your elbows. 

It had been only around ten minutes before you heard a faint snoring coming from right next to you. You smiled, turning quietly to find Jongseob’s book resting on his face. You took a moment to take in the scene, noting the way his shirt had ridden up just enough to show his belly button, the tan skin of his stomach smooth and soft looking. One hand rested on his chest and you were surprised that it, too, looked very soft, his fingers long and delicate.

You stifled a giggle. The guy probably hadn’t done a day’s labor in his entire life. No, his work was all done with that wrinkly brain - his hands completely callous-free. But it wasn’t just that. They were so…pretty. He was pretty. You were only just now realizing this, only just now seeing him as more than your little brother’s friend. You felt oddly guilty entertaining these thoughts, but there was no harm in looking, right? 

You decided to ignore your conscience as you laid on your side facing him and stared at the way his chest rose and fell with each soft snore. You felt warmth deep on your body, spreading through each limb. You were glad he’d agreed to come on this picnic with you. You were glad that the two of you seemed to be becoming actual friends, connected by more than just Shota. You were glad. You were…

… waking up to the calming scent of a bright, botanical, masculine cologne, your face touching something, your arm around someone, you were …

…

…

… you were waking up turned on your right side, your face pushed up against Jongseob’s arm, your left hand resting on his chest. You sucked in a sharp breath and sat up in a panic, accidentally pushing on his chest for leverage and eliciting a fit of coughing from him as he laughed at your reaction. Your stomach hurt and your heart was racing. 

You sat up, disoriented, and looked around. It was still light out, but you couldn’t tell what time it was. You turned back towards Jongseob and he was in the same position lying down, eyes trained on his book, but now suppressing a devilish smile. “Jesus, I’m sorry,” you apologized, feeling a shameful heat rise to your face. “How long was I out for?” 

He looked over at you, his face neutral as he looked up to think for a moment. Eyes back on you, he responded, “Not that long, but I’m not 100% sure since you were sleeping when I woke up. Don’t worry about it. You’re pretty cuddly, so it could have been worse.”

Your jaw dropped in shock, flabbergasted that he would use your own line against you, and he laughed, a positively evil twinkle in his eye and his crooked canines on full display. He was such a little shit sometimes, but you guessed it was karma for teasing him that one time he drunkenly slept in your bed. Your face got warmer at the memory, and you did your best to suppress it as you smacked him playfully in response, pretending to be mad. He didn’t fight back though, bunching up his shoulders and cringing away from your attack as he continued reading.

Not long after, the both of you packed everything up and headed back to the apartment. The drive home was quiet, but comfortably so. You were surprised at how peaceful you felt, even after the embarrassment of falling asleep on him in the park. Jongseob was so different from Shota, especially when the two of them weren’t together, and it dawned on you that you deeply enjoyed his company. Being around him was just so easy and comfortable. 

The two of you walked into your apartment to find Shota back home, and your stomach did a little flip as you saw that Keeho and Intak had come over as well. Intak immediately jumped up to help you with the cooler, fussing enough that you couldn’t fight back, while Shota interrogated you from the couch, demanding to know where the two of you had been.

“Oh, y’know me, just got done taking Jongseob’s picnic virginity,” you responded flippantly, and as soon as the words passed your lips, you desperately wanted to put a gun in your mouth and pull the trigger. Intak’s face fell in confusion, contorted in grief, Shota looked at you, completely disgusted, and Keeho burst out with an ear-piercing string of laughter. You looked at Jongseob, whose face was unreadable but visibly embarrassed, and as Keeho’s laughing slowed down he said “Aww, baby’s first picnic! Cute!”

Intak’s face relaxed in relief as he said “Oh, that’s what you meant?” You shrugged, and said “Yeah, sorry,”  feeling just as confused about it as he was. Why did you say the dumbest shit sometimes? You looked over at Shota with pleading eyes and he just shook his head at you but was finally smiling, as he turned his focus back to the video game that he had been playing when you walked in. “Well, did you have fun?” Intak asked as he put his arms around you and pressed his lips to your forehead. You should have found the gesture sweet, but for some reason it felt oddly territorial, the vibes not quite feeling right. You slid out of his hold and smiled sweetly. “Yeah, the weather was great today. It was super relaxing. How was dance for y’all?” you replied, making smalltalk as Jongseob settled on the couch next to Shota, his face still unreadable. 

You kept your eyes on Jongseob and as he looked over at you and offered a weak smile that didn’t reach his eyes, Intak put his arms around you once again from the side this time, and kissed the top of your head. “It was good, just exhausting,” he said, leaning into your body. 

You kept your eyes on Jongseob’s, and he stared back at you for what felt like the longest moments of your life, and then he was looking back at the TV, and Intak was showing you the moves they went over in dance practice that day, and your heart felt weird in your chest.

Chapter 6: Please Go

Knock knock knock!

The sound jarred you from your concentration, nearly causing you to poke your eye out with your mascara wand. “ What ?” you screamed in the direction of your closed bedroom door. “Can I come in?” you heard Shota yell. Weird, you thought, since he rarely tried coming into your room. 

“Sure?” you responded, confusion in your voice, and you heard the door open and latch gently behind him. He shuffled through your bedroom to where you were standing, leaning towards your bathroom mirror and working on your eye makeup. “What’s up?” you asked him without taking your eyes off your own reflection, face probably looking ridiculous as you made that ugly expression everyone makes when putting on mascara.

“Would you, uh… can I… um… well, I was just thinking…” Shota stumbled over his words, and sounded unusually nervous, which caught your attention. You paused and looked over to see that his cheeks looked hot, and your protective instincts took over. “Hey, man, what is it? You okay?” 

He laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head. “Yeah I’m fine, it’s nothing bad. I just wanted to know… if you would mind… helping me with some makeup?”

Your expression went from momentarily shocked to a devious smile, and you couldn’t help walking over and hugging him. “Of course I wouldn’t mind,” you responded, arms wrapped around him tightly. “Go grab a chair from the dining room.”

That night, you and the guys were going clubbing. Clubbing , of all things. It had been Intak’s idea, an idea that Shota and Keeho were both fond of, but you were surprised that Jiung, Jongseob, and Theo had agreed to go. They were much more reluctant to go out, preferring to stay inside most of the time, away from large crowds. You found your own preferences falling somewhere in between the two groups, but despite your nervousness about going dancing with a bunch of, well, dancers , you were excited to see what the night would bring. 

Shota dragged a chair into your cramped bathroom and sat down in it, his hands resting in his lap, looking up at you with the most pitiful puppy eyes imaginable. Your heart melted at the sight. “So,” you began carefully, not wanting to scare him away, “what did you have in mind?”

“I dunno,” he replied, shrugging and looking at himself in the mirror.

“Are we thinking full face, or something more natural, or something more grungy–”

“That one. Grungy. Just maybe some dark stuff around the eyes,” he responded, quicker than you expected. You smiled, pulling out some eyeliner, brushes, and a couple other things you wanted to possibly experiment with. 

Not long after, Shota was looking in the mirror at his fully smoked-out eyes and trying in vain to suppress a smile. Your reflection smiled at his as he made eye contact in the mirror with you. “Not to toot my own horn, but you look really good,” you said with a wink. “But there’s one other thing I want to try if you’ll let me.” He sat down eagerly, awaiting the next step. You rummaged through your makeup and found a pinky-nude lip stain and some thick, glittery gloss, and applied them to his lips in that order. 

When he looked in the mirror this time, his eyes widened in shock. “What do you think?” you said quickly, “we can remove it if it’s not really the vibe.”

“No no, I love it,” Shota responded, angling his face back and forth in front of the mirror to catch the shimmer from the lip gloss. “It feels weird, but I like the way it looks. Thank you,” he said with a smile that was uncharacteristically shy. “No need to thank me, dude. You’re so damn pretty though, everyone’s gonna want a piece of you.” He laughed, pushing you gently, denying it adamantly. “Whatever… now go get dressed!” you demanded, and he scurried out of your room, a smile still plastered on his face.

You finished your makeup and threw on a pair of mid-rise baggy jeans, the waistband of your briefs peeking out of them, and paired it with a white crop top and oversized leather jacket. Maybe a little heavy for spring but you could take the jacket off if it got too hot. You looked yourself over in the mirror, and, as satisfied as you were going to be, headed out to the living room; it sounded like someone had arrived, anyway. 

Everyone had agreed to meet up at the apartment, and the first person who arrived was Intak. He was dressed in black jeans and a black fitted t-shirt tucked in, a silver belt buckle adorning his hips. His hair was styled immaculately, as usual. He looked, in a word, perfect. You greeted him with a hug and a quick peck on the cheek. You exchanged compliments and had begun to casually talk about the day when Jongseob came out of Shota’s room, dressed in an outfit that was simultaneously so inherently him , but also seemed like it might have been outside his comfort zone? You wondered about this, fighting the blush that crept into your cheeks.

He was wearing a white fitted t-shirt with red accents, low-rise dark-red baggy pants, and white sneakers. However, the pants were so low-rise and the t-shirt was so small that it exposed the tan skin of his tummy, just above his waistband. You knew he was usually fond of baggy clothes and had never seen him wear a shirt that was so, well, revealing. The sleeves hugged his small arms and the rest of it accentuated his narrow waist in a way that felt so feminine, and contrasted with the masculine confidence with which he walked up to you, hands shoved in his pockets casually. His hair was wavy and disheveled, no doubt an effortless-looking style that, in fact, had to have taken a considerable amount of effort. 

“Nice fit, bro!” you said, trying to act normal. He gave you a blank look in response, and just the shadow of a smile. “Thanks bro, you too,” he responded, his voice flat. You tried not to care, but it hurt. Jongseob had been distant since the picnic, which confused you, since it had seemed like you’d grown closer at that time. The image of him making eye contact with you while Intak kissed you flashed into your mind but you shoved it away. The distance could be caused by anything, and for all you knew, he was going through something that had nothing to do with you.

The rest of the crew finally showed up, including Keeho, who absolutely fawned over Shota’s makeup, hyping him up in a way that made you realize why he’d asked for it. Your heart swelled, and you were suddenly aware of how excited you were for the night out with everyone.

The club that Keeho had chosen was loud, colorful, and chic. The decorations were beautiful, you could feel the music in your gut, and the drinks were concerningly strong. You made a mental note to pace yourself, but didn’t hesitate to take a couple warm-up shots with the group before you all headed to the dance floor. You danced with Intak, embarrassed at your lack of any real skills, but encouraged by the warmth of the alcohol that had loosened both your body and inhibitions. He was incredibly easy to follow though, despite how fluidly he moved. 

Meanwhile, Jiung and Theo had started a dance battle in the middle of the floor. Jongseob was watching them, drink in hand, fully entertained, and Shota and Keeho were … well, you thought you’d known where they were, but it took you a moment to spot them. They were off to the side of the crowd, and your jaw dropped at the way Shota was grinding into Keeho; you looked away and laughed to yourself. You were glad that they were clearly having a good time. 

After a couple more songs, you told Intak you were tired and went to sit at the bar, and he went to join Jiung’s and Theo’s dance battle. Not long after, Jongseob came to sit next to you. “Hey, stranger,” you yelled over the music at him, and he winced, giving you a tight smile. “Hey. Are we good?” you asked, abandoning the hesitation that you might have had a couple drinks ago. 

“Yeah, we’re fine,” he responded, shrugging. “Why?” 

Your eyebrows knit together, slightly frustrated at his aloofness. “You just seem, I dunno. Like you’re avoiding me, lately. Did I do something to piss you off?”

He sighed, looking at his drink. “No, it’s not that,” he responded, without offering further explanation as he continued staring into his drink.  

“Aw, c’mon, you can tell me” you urged, pushing his shoulder gently, but he shied away from your touch. “Hey y/n, knock it off. I’m not some kid that you can just push around,” he snapped back, but immediately looked horrified. “I’m sorry, I didn’t–”

“Is that how you think I view you?” you interrupted, unable to mask the hurt in your voice. 

“No!” he replied immediately, then continued, “Well, fuck. I…” he sighed, rubbing his face, clearly exasperated. “I dunno… I guess after the way everyone babied me when they found out I hadn’t been on a picnic, and then the way they responded after you took me on one, it kinda left a bad taste in my mouth.”

Your face fell, and you felt yourself sobering up immediately as you realized exactly what he meant, and why he felt like this. How could you be so stupid and insensitive? You opened your mouth to reply but Jongseob’s face went from sadness to panic as his gaze focused on something past you and he started to stand from the barstool. You looked behind you but didn’t see anything, and snapped back towards him. “What? What’s wrong?”

“It’s Shota, I swear I just saw him rushing to the bathroom, I should–”

“Yeah, please go,” you responded as he abandoned his drink and jogged briskly around the corner. You sipped your own drink, feeling your heart sink. Not only was Jongseob mad at you, but now Shota was probably sick and you’d have to take care of him tonight. You groaned, pounding the last of your drink and promptly ordering another.

“Damn, long week?” a familiar voice asked from your other side, as you looked over to see Theo joining you at the bar. He looked gorgeous tonight, which was really just his baseline. He’d worn a pair of fitted black jeans and a beige sweater that showed off his defined collarbones; he’d also been growing his black hair out this past year and it reached his shoulders at this point. He definitely intimidated you the most out of all of Shota’s dance friends, you thought, his dark eyes piercing into you as he awaited your response. 

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” you replied dryly, sipping your drink as you noticed a text notification pop up on your phone, which was sitting on the bar. “Ah shit, sorry Theo, I’m not trying to be rude but I need to check this,” you said as he waved, dismissing you. 

js: hey, it sounds like something might have happened with shota and keeho? idk the details yet, he won’t tell me which is p weird. :/ but he’s crying. i’m tryna comfort him but he won’t let me in the stall :(

You pocketed your phone without another thought. “Goddammit, I gotta go see what’s going on with Shota. Would you mind watching my drink?” you asked Theo, to which he wordlessly replied, pulling your drink towards his. 

You speedwalked around the corner, stressed beyond belief. Shota was crying ? About Keeho? What the hell happened?

You burst into the men’s bathroom past the urinals to where Jongseob had his face up against a stall door, trying to coax Shota into talking to him. But Shota just continued saying “Please, go.” You heard sniffles coming from behind the stall door and ignored the looks you got from a couple of the men at urinals; you didn’t give a shit about anyone or anything at this moment, other than what had happened to your little brother.

“Shota? It’s me, can you let me in, buddy?” you asked as softly as you could, your voice strained with worry. The sniffles paused for a couple moments, then the door quietly unlatched, opening up to reveal Shota’s tear-streaked face, his makeup an absolute mess. His lip quivered as you stepped into the stall and pulled him into a hug and held him while he sobbed quietly. You looked over at Jongseob who gave you a knowing look, as he shut the door behind the two of you and, you were sure, stood watch.

“Shhh,” you cooed, stroking Shota’s disheveled hair. “You’re okay, you’re okay.” He whimpered in response, and after a minute or two of being held by you, his breathing finally steadying, he said, his voice still shaky, “I’m so stupid.”

“Shota, don’t say that, you’re anything but stupid. Annoying, yes, chaotic, even more so, but stupid… not even close,” you retorted, pulling away and wiping his tears away but smudging his makeup even more. “Do you want to tell me why you feel like that? Will you tell me what happened?”

He looked to the side, clearly embarrassed, and his lower lip trembled again. His shoulders slumped, as he explained the way he’d been dancing with Keeho until Jiung and Intak found them and commented on the way they’d been dancing together. 

“Yeah, he’s all over me, it’s so cute; he must like me or something,” Keeho had told them, laughing it off casually, likely not realizing that Shota was just barely in earshot. This was all Shota had needed to hear to know that not only did Keeho not return his feelings, but to add insult to injury, Shota had made a complete fool of himself.

“I thought… that I’d read the situation right. Why would he dance with me like that if he didn’t feel the same?” Shota asked, face crumpling again, and you pulled him into another embrace as he cried. Meanwhile, your stomach was in knots, and a hot rage burned in your chest. You squeezed him tightly, eyes starting to wet. “You stay here, I’ll be back,” you said with a scowl that you couldn’t hide, and Shota immediately knew what was happening.

“Wait, y/n, please don’t – I don’t want to –” he pleaded, but that’s all you heard as you stormed out the bathroom door and back into the noisy club. You were disoriented, the stress of your earlier conversation with Jongseob entirely eclipsed by the protective wrath coursing through your body at the knowledge that someone, Shota’s friend , of all people, had made him feel so rotten. Had laughed at him, humiliated him.

As you stormed towards the dance floor, you heard Shota far behind you. He was clearly trying to catch up to you and stop you, and it sounded like Jongseob was following close behind him, but you were too angry to care. Shota had always been such a pacifist. You had to protect him, because he wouldn’t protect himself. You wouldn’t allow him to be treated this way, even if he didn’t have the strength to fight back.

You spotted Keeho casually dancing with the others. “Hey, asshole,” you yelled at him, and he whipped around towards you, face full of confusion, likely not even entirely sure you were talking to him. But before you got within enough range of him to really let him have it, you felt your foot go out from under you as you accidentally stepped into someone’s spilled drink, and everything went black.

Chapter 7: Don't Go (pt. 2)

You woke to the beeping sound matching up to your heartbeat, and immediately noticed a dull ache in your head as you slowly opened your eyes. It took a few moments for the room to come into view but the first thing you noticed was Shota draped over the left side of the bed, seemingly asleep… not your own bed, though. A hospital bed? You looked to the other side of the room and saw another familiar figure sitting in a chair, staring at his phone, blonde curls shading his face as he slumped forward. 

You sighed, groaning quietly as you slightly adjusted your position on the bed and his head snapped up to look at you, eyes looking exhausted. In less than a moment though, he was on his feet, hovering over you but clearly unsure of what to do. 

“Y/n, hey, how are you feeling?” Jongseob said, his eyes wide, full of fear. “Do you need anything? Water? Are you in pain?”

You smiled at his concern. “Nah, my head hurts but I think I’m okay. What the hell happened?”

“You slipped,” he replied, mouth downturned. “Your head hit the floor. Hard. Be careful of the left side of your forehead, they had to give you some stitches.” You instinctively reached your hand up and gently touched the bandage covering the wound, wincing at the sensitivity. “H-hey, I said be careful,” he said, snatching your hand gently away from your head. 

In that moment, the door opened quietly and Intak peeked in. You looked back at him and smiled, releasing Jongseob’s hand, and Jongseob stepped away from the bed, allowing space for Intak to come closer and see you. 

“Oh my god, hi baby,” he said, his face marred with worry as he brushed your hair back gently and kissed the side of your head opposite the bandage. “How are you feeling?” 

“Head hurts but otherwise I feel alright,” you replied, noting out of the corner of your eye that Jongseob jolted like he remembered something, and rushed out of the room. “What happened?” you asked, trying to remember what had led up to your head hitting the dance floor. 

“Well, it looked like you were on your way to kick Keeho’s ass,” Intak began, and at the mention of his name, it all came flooding back to you and you stopped hearing the rest of his words. Jongseob being upset with you, then Shota crying in the bathroom. What Keeho had said about him to the others. The blind rage you’d felt as you marched out to confront him.

“Where is that fucker?!” you demanded, sitting up a little, but moving gently enough not to wake Shota. Intak grabbed your shoulders and rubbed them in an attempt to calm you, looking worried that you were going to leap up out of bed. You glanced at the IV in your arm and considered removing it. “Don’t,” Intak interrupted your thoughts, giving you a pitying but understanding smile. “Everything’s fine, we got it worked out. Keeho’s been, uh, spoken to,” he said, giving you a nervous smile. 

“What? How? No, it needs to be me, I need to—“ 

“Jongseob did it,” he cut in. You blinked once. Twice. “I know,” he said with a smile. “I was shocked too, but damn. I didn’t know he could yell that loud.” Jongseob had yelled at Keeho? You asked Intak to explain from the beginning, and he told you that while Shota had ridden in the ambulance with you, Jiung had driven everyone else to the hospital. 

The moment Keeho, sitting in the front seat, had made a comment about you being clumsy, it was like something had cracked in Jongseob. He had immediately started laying into Keeho, telling him that this situation was his fault, that if he hadn’t been flirting with Shota and then talking shit about him behind his back, you wouldn’t have come rushing out like that to confront him. 

Your heart swelled as you listened to Intak’s story. You couldn’t remember a time when you’d ever heard Jongseob shout in anger. The fact that he’d done it for Shota’s sake didn’t surprise you, but for your sake? You felt the edges of your psyche softening and your muscles relaxing. 

Intak continued, recounting that after they arrived, Jongseob ordered Keeho to make it up to Shota, which had apparently happened. Once it had been confirmed that you were safe and stable, Keeho admitted to Shota in front of everyone in the empty hospital waiting room that he’d had a crush on Shota and that he was just trying to look cool in front of them, and he asked Shota’s forgiveness. 

“I’ve never seen Keeho do something like that and honestly never thought I’d see the day, but I think he legitimately thought the little guy was going to kill him,” he said, laughing, and inwardly you winced. Little guy. Baby’s first picnic. You reminded yourself to have a conversation with Jongseob later and apologize, realizing much too late that he probably hated people talking about him, and to him, like that. 

“Yeah, well that ‘little guy’ has bigger balls than the rest of that group if he’s the only one who stood up to Keeho like that,” you replied, your tone sharper than you’d intended. Intak looked taken aback and a little embarrassed, despite the fact that he wasn’t even involved. “Yeah, of course, I agree,” he said, flushing slightly. “What Keeho did… that was really messed up.”

“Is Shota okay? How did he respond?” you asked, looking down at his sleeping form affectionately. Intak replied, “He seemed really embarrassed at first and the whole thing was painfully awkward, but they went off to talk privately and came back hand in hand, so I think he’s okay.” He winked. You smiled and sighed, feeling conflicted but relieved. 

The next moment, there was a knock on the door and a doctor walked in with a nurse and started asking you questions, so Intak backed out of their way. You noticed Jongseob had come in behind them. Did he leave to tell them that you’d woken up? 

Intak squeezed your hand before stepping out of the room, wanting to give the medical team space to work. Your doctor began a neuro exam, explaining that it seemed you’d sustained a mild concussion but that your scans had otherwise been normal. After completing the exam, the doctor left the room, but before the nurse left,  she gestured towards Jongseob, and said, “You should be grateful to have people like this in your life. This young man stayed by your side constantly, making notes about any activity he noticed while you were asleep. Any time your vitals seemed the slightest bit off, he came running out to us and asked us to check on you. Plus, he knew all your allergies and even some of your meds. He’s a keeper,” she said with a wink, exiting the room. 

Jongseob looked at the wall, face clearly burning up at the mistaken suggestion that he, rather than Intak, was your boyfriend. “Seob…You did all that? For me?” you asked, feeling your throat tighten with emotion. He fixed his gaze on you, face full of a mixture of emotions that you couldn’t place. Sadness? Relief? Affection? 

“Of course I did,” he said, offering no further explanation, eyes still boring into yours. 

You cleared your throat nervously. “I also heard what you did for Shota. What you said to Keeho.” 

“Yeah. It needed to be said,” Jongseob replied, a hint of anger in his voice that didn’t reach his eyes. 

You reached a hand towards him and he raised an eyebrow inquisitively, but placed his hand in yours, and in the next moment, you were sitting forward and pulling him towards you into a tight embrace. His arms hovered for a moment before wrapping around your back gently. You buried your face in his chest, eyes squeezed shut, and held him there. 

“Thank you,” you whispered after a long pause. He didn’t respond for several moments and you started to worry, but finally he replied, his voice low and soft, “It was nothing.” 

As you released him, Shota began to stir. He looked up at you with sleep still in his eyes, face looking ghastly, makeup smeared even more than before. “Y/n, you’re awake,” he said with a sleepy smile. “How are you feeling? Are you doing okay?” 

The questions were getting repetitive but you couldn’t say you minded. You’d felt very loved since the moment you awoke. “Yeah, I’m doing fine. Just a mild concussion, but otherwise all my tests apparently came back normal,” you replied, giving him a reassuring smile. 

“Good, you scared the shit out of me,” he said, leaning over to hug you. “Is everyone still out there?” he asked, looking at Jongseob. “Yeah, I think so. I know Intak’s out there and last I checked, the rest of them were as well.” 

“Wait, what? Tell them to go home and get some sleep!” you insisted, not realizing that Jiung, Theo, and Keeho were all outside the room as well. Jongseob laughed. “They’ve all been too worried to leave; plus, they feel horrible about the entire situation… especially Keeho.” You narrowed your eyes at this last comment and looked at Shota, who blushed and looked down sheepishly. “Yeah, you’d better bet he’s on thin ice, Shota,” you scolded, to which he nodded, understanding. “But if what Intak said was true, I’ll withhold my judgment. For now! If he hurts you again, it’s game over.” 

Shota nodded again but couldn’t control the shy smile that had overtaken his face. “Okay, enough, go see him,” you said, giving him a little push from the bed, and he blushed, walking out of the room. You turned towards Jongseob, who suddenly looked like he felt incredibly out of place, and he turned to leave. “I’ll, uh, go see if Intak wants to–”

“Don’t go. Please,” you argued, grabbing his hand and stopping him in his tracks. He stared at you for a moment, before pulling his chair up to the side of the bed and sitting. “Okay,” he replied quietly. You cleared your throat. “About what you said to me earlier at the bar–”

“Just forget it,” he interrupted you, firmly but not rudely. “I feel like such an asshole for moping so long the way I did. It’s just stupid. It doesn’t matter. You just need to work on feeling better, so please don’t worry about me.” 

You could tell he’d been ruminating about this, the way it all came spilling out. “Okay, I hear you, but I’m still gonna say this,” you replied, grabbing his hand and forcing him to look at you. “You are one of the coolest, most intelligent, and most thoughtful and talented people I know,” you began. His cheeks turned pink and his eyes darted to the side, but you continued, “It is never okay for you to feel like anyone around you is belittling you. If you ever feel like that again, I am begging you to please tell me.”

His eyes searched the room, looking anywhere but yours, before finally making eye contact. “Okay, fine, whatever you say,” he responded reluctantly, and you gave his hand a firm squeeze before letting it go. You laid your head back and took a deep breath, suddenly feeling drowsy. You looked at the clock and it read 4:18am. “Dude, you should get outta here, go get some sleep. I’ll just get a taxi when they release me” you insisted, feeling the heaviness of his fatigue from where you laid. He didn’t say anything, just shook his head adamantly, then propped his arms on the side of the bed and rested his head there. It wasn’t long before sleep took him, the room soon filled with nothing but the sound of the hospital monitor beeping and the sound of his light snoring. 

Before you knew it, you were being woken up by the nurse with your discharge paperwork; you were finally getting to go home. He went over the instructions with you and made sure you understood that you needed to take it easy, get lots and lots of rest, and come back to the hospital if you developed any concerning symptoms. Jongseob was awake at this point as well, no doubt listening intently to the nurse’s advice. 

You sat up and sat on the edge of the bed carefully, hospital gown bunching uncomfortably around your lap, and you looked around the room as Jongseob grabbed the plastic bag with your belongings that he’d stowed underneath his chair and handed it to you. You thanked him and went to stand, but felt a little dizzy when your feet touched the ground and needed to brace yourself on the bed. He held his hands out for you to steady yourself and you laughed, embarrassed. “They said this would be normal at first but damn, how annoying.” 

“Yeah,” Jongseob responded, face concerned. “Wait here, don’t move,” he said as he left the room in a rush. You held onto the edge of the bed for support. A few moments later, Intak came in, eyes wide as he approached you. “Jongseob said you… needed some help?” he said, blushing slightly, and that’s when you realized: he’d asked Intak to come in and help you get dressed. You laughed, face turning red, and nodded. “Yeah, sorry… I got up to get dressed but it looks like I’m still a bit wobbly on my feet.” 

He nodded agreeably and helped keep you steady while you got dressed, taking special care not to stare; truly, such a gentleman. As he walked you out, his arm hooked in yours, you took in the sight of the waiting room: Jiung was sleeping in a chair, head leaned back and arms crossed; Jongseob was showing Theo something on his phone; and Keeho and Shota were sleeping in each other’s arms, Shota straddling his lap like a baby. Entirely inappropriate for a medical setting, but it was the middle of the night and nobody’d come to make them stop. You figured they routinely saw much worse than this.

Jongseob and Theo awoke the others once they saw you walking out and they all started fretting over you, Keeho standing back nervously. Once you made eye contact with him though, he bowed his head deeply. “I’m really sorry, y/n.” Keeho was usually so goofy and unserious that it made you uncomfortable seeing him so serious, but you let him continue. “I feel like this was partially my fault, so I really wanna make it up to you. Whatever I can do, whatever you need, I’m–”

“You’re fine, just be good to my brother, or else you’ll find out what I was gonna do if I’d made it across the dance floor,” you said with a wry smile. He gulped, nodding and bowing his head again. “Yeah yeah, I hear you. Understood,” he responded as Shota subtly grabbed one of Keeho’s hands in both of his own, and snuggled up against him. Your smile softened. You were just relieved that they’d finally figured out their bullshit.

Back home, Intak tried convincing you to let him stay the night but you insisted you were fine; Shota would be there and Jongseob already planned on spending the night as well. Intak seemed disappointed but didn’t push the issue. “Text me in the morning, okay? I just need to know you’re okay,” he pleaded, and you agreed, kissing him sweetly. 

You thanked Jiung for driving everyone home in his exhausted state, and thanked him, Theo, and Keeho for staying at the hospital to make sure you were okay. You’d never felt so cared for in your whole life and although you felt incredibly guilty, you couldn’t deny some buried part of yourself relished the attention. 

Shota and Jongseob helped you up the stairs, Shota to your side and Jongseob behind both of you. Once inside, they followed you around to the point that it was almost becoming too much to bear. You were starting to feel more steady on your feet and less nauseous, but they insisted on seeing that you made it to bed safely. Once you were in your pajamas and under the covers, Shota and Jongseob came in and made sure your phone was plugged in and charging, painkillers with water on your nightstand, and told you to make sure you left your door cracked so they could check on you. 

You rolled your eyes at how pushy they were, but it was truly so sweet, so you just went along with it. As they headed out, you asked Jongseob to hang back for a second. Shota gave him a questioning look but left your bedroom as Jongseob came over to your bed and you patted it, inviting him to sit down. You sat up, sleep shirt draped over you much more comfortably than the hospital gown had been, and pulled him into another tight hug. “Thank you again, for everything,” you spoke into his chest. 

A few seconds passed and you waited for him to let go, but he didn’t. More seconds passed, and as your heart sped up, you could feel his racing as well. He rested his chin on your head and stroked your hair a couple times, making you feel like your bones were made of rubber. Uh oh , you thought, as your body screamed at you to let go, to end contact, to push him away. 

He let go before you were able to, his face flushed a pretty pink. He looked down and then up at you. “I told you. It was nothing,” he said softly, then promptly sat up and before shutting your door, said “Sleep well, y/n.”

The door latched and your body was throbbing; your head from the concussion, and your heart from…whatever that was. You decided it would be a question for your tomorrow self as you drifted off into a fitful sleep.

Chapter 8: I'm Gonna Go

The rest of the weekend went by without much drama: you’d texted Intak in the morning, as requested, to let him know you were alive, Keeho took Shota on their first date (complete with showing up to the door with a dozen roses – he was keenly intent on making it up to him), and Jongseob had taken to cooking for you and doing mostly everything around the house since Shota was a little distracted by his new relationship. 

When the week began, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to go to work, but you managed just fine. Jongseob was back at his dorm, Keeho was over nearly every night, and before the following weekend came, Intak asked to come over. This was unusual for him, since you usually only saw him on the weekends, but you certainly didn’t mind. 

The two of you decided to use the living room to watch a movie while Shota and Keeho hung out in Shota’s bedroom. “No Jongseob today?” Intak asked as you scrolled through the streaming app looking for something to watch. “Nah,” you responded, “he doesn’t actually live here, believe it or not,” you said with a laugh. “Definitely here every weekend though. Our place is way better for studying than his dorm, since he’s got noisy roommates.”

“Ah,” Intak responded thoughtfully. “So… he just comes here to do homework?”

“I mean, yeah. And to hang out with Shota, a mix of both. They’ve been best friends for years so this is kind of a second home for him. He’s a good guest and a sweet guy, so I don’t mind.” 

“Makes sense,” he said, and as you turned towards him, his neutral face shifted quickly into a sweet smile, his brown eyes shining. You smiled back at him and the both of you descended into a comfortable silence as the movie started. It was an intense romance, full of drama, passion, and steamy sex scenes. 

However, about halfway through the movie, you felt your phone vibrate. You glanced at it out of habit and would normally ignore it, but you saw that it was Jongseob, asking how you were doing. It probably could have waited, but you worried that he’d get concerned if you didn’t respond quickly enough, so you pulled up the text to respond to him, your stomach doing something weird. You pushed away the feeling, pushed away the memory of the long hug the prior weekend, shoved it all deep, deep down without a second thought. 

js: hey y/n, how are u feeling? have u needed to take any painkillers lately?

y/n: nah, i’ve actually been okay. thank u for checking on me! you’re the best.

js: whatever dude, just stay away from slippery floors :P

y/n: u don’t gotta tell me twice… lol

You slipped your phone back in your pocket, looked back up at the movie and felt Intak’s eyes on you. You looked over, and he looked… sad. Sadder than you’d ever seen him, his mouth unsmiling, eyes larger than usual. “Hey,” you said, turning towards him. “Are you okay?” 

“No, I’m not,” he replied, turning away as he sniffled loudly. Fuck. What could be going on? you wondered. You put a hand on his shoulder and rubbed it reassuringly. “Baby, what’s wrong?” you asked, horrified at seeing Intak upset like this for the first time. He was usually all smiles, his demeanor relaxed, without a care in the world.

Intak swiped a stray tear and looked down at his lap, then over at you, lip trembling, then got himself under control. He took a deep breath and smiled bitterly. “Sorry,” he said with a nervous laugh. “I don’t really know how to say this, but I’m just gonna go for it.

“Y/n, I don't think this is going to work out. You and me, I mean,” he blurted out, and you felt like you’d been slapped. “I can tell that you’re not as into me as I’m into you, and that was fine at first, but I don’t think I can handle being second best in your world.” Second best? you thought. What was that supposed to mean? 

“I’m sorry for just ending it like this but I need to protect myself before I fall too hard for you. I like you more and more each day and I can tell it’s not the same for you. I’m not mad, just disappointed. It’s not your fault, it’s just how shit goes sometimes,” he said, another stray tear slipping out. 

You felt frozen, a lump in your throat, and although you wanted to say something, needed to say something, anything…no words came. The worst part was that you knew he was right: you had known early on that this relationship would need to stay casual at most, but you were still disappointed that you’d hurt Intak in the process. You didn’t anticipate it ending this way, but you weren’t sure what you expected in the first place. You supposed that you just selfishly wanted the attention, and the companionship. 

You finally snapped out of your self-pitying trance and swallowed the lump in your throat. “Intak, I’m really sorry. I think… you’re not wrong,” you began, and he nodded, face sullen but understanding. “I really like you, but it’s true. I do think something’s missing, and it’s not your fault in any way, so please don’t beat yourself up.” Your head throbbed and tears wetted your eyes. Why was this so hard?

You pulled him over to you and he laid his head in your lap, sniffling quietly. You ran your fingers through his dark hair gently, trying to soothe his pain. “For what it’s worth, you’ve been an absolutely perfect boyfriend,” you said, grasping at any attempt to make him feel better. He laughed wryly, responding, “I appreciate it, but that doesn’t really help.” He sat up, and continued, “I’ll be fine in a little while, and I hope we can still be friends if you want. But right now, I think I’m gonna go.”

You nodded, understanding, and he grabbed his jacket quietly and left. You remained on the couch, and stared at the wall blankly, the movie still playing quietly on the TV screen. You weren’t sure how you felt. Numb? Sad? Relieved?

In that moment, Shota and Keeho came out of Shota’s bedroom, laughing, and asked nonchalantly, “What’s up? Where’d Intak go?”

You wiped your eyes roughly and gave them a weak smile, and said, “I think I just got dumped.”

Chapter 9: Don't Go Pt. 3 (Please Stay)

You woke up Saturday morning with that familiar ache in your lower belly. Recovering from a concussion, got dumped two days ago, and now my period comes? Great, real fucking great. A lazy ray of light came through the bedroom window, illuminating the walls, the piles of clothing on the floor, the clutter that had built up over the past two days while you wallowed in self pity. You ran your hand across your stomach gently. It wasn’t clear whether the weekend coming was a good thing, or a bad thing. On one hand, work had sucked ass. But on the other hand, it had at least kept you distracted.

You still couldn’t quite tell how you felt about your relationship with Intak ending. Your brain still felt fuzzy about it, and you couldn’t tell if it was the concussion, your emotions, or both. You laid and stared at the ceiling, taking a deep breath and blowing it out, long and slow. It hurt, but this was probably good. 

The situation with Intak was supposed to be casual from the start, but it had sounded like it had become more complicated for him. You felt relieved, but sad. You’d enjoyed the date nights out (and in), the long conversations, the way he always checked on you and was interested in what you had to say about, well, everything. You hadn’t deserved him, and he deserved more; someone who would love him. Maybe he’d started falling in love with you…

And with that agonizing thought, a wave of pain and nausea rode through your middle, forcing you out of the comfort of your bed. You pulled on a pair of boxer shorts and an old t-shirt and hobbled out into the kitchen. You pulled out your mug and started prepping the raspberry leaf tea, leaning against the counter and sighing. You fought the urge to just go back to bed but worried that it would just make you feel worse. You figured you should at least get something in your stomach, get some painkillers going, get the heating pad, all your routine comforts.

You looked around and noticed the dishes had been done and the house had been decluttered. The work of Jongseob again, no doubt. Ever since your hospital visit, something between you and him had shifted. He’d come over Friday night as he usually did, but like the previous weekend after your accident, he’d come over with groceries and forced Shota to help him cook dinner for you. Most of the time, Shota was pretty awful about chores, so you found that you had to take care of most of it or kick his ass trying to get him to help. However, Jongseob had basically begun to take over completely – funny, because he didn’t even live there, but it was nice nonetheless.

He didn’t know about you and Intak yet, and you weren’t really sure how to tell him. Maybe Shota already did? you wondered idly as you flipped the heating pad and added another minute to the microwave. As you pulled out the teabag and threw it in the trash, the door to Shota’s bathroom opened up, and out walked Jongseob, freshly showered. His hair, bleached and straw-like, stuck out in most directions, and he wore a black tank top with his usual gray oversized sweatpants. He didn’t wear tank tops often, and it struck you, like it usually did every time he wore anything form-fitting, how tiny he was – the bare skin of his arms soft-looking and tan, and his collar bones prominent above the hem of his shirt.

“Oh hey, good morning y/n,” he said, seeming slightly startled at your presence in the kitchen and beginning to fix his hair self-consciously –but  to no avail; it just ended up getting more and more tangled and he gave up, smiling awkwardly. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, cutting in front of you to grab the heating pad out of the microwave as soon as it went off. Okay bro, calm down , you couldn’t help thinking.

“Uh, thanks,” you said as he handed it to you. “Been better, but at least it’s the weekend. Sometimes when it rains it just pours.”

“What do you mean? Are you having any headaches? Is your vision okay? Have you tried calling the doctor, or do you need to go back to–”

“I’m fine, I just don’t feel great is all,” you butted in, suddenly feeling surprisingly impatient with the conversation. “I do have the headaches from time to time but they said it was normal. I just didn’t need mother nature to arrive at the same time, if you know what I mean.”

He looked at the tea and the heating pad and a look of realization dawned on his face. “Ah, shit, sorry. Yeah, I guess I should have realized.”

“No worries,” you said with a smile as you sipped your tea. “Not your job to keep track of my cycle, dude.”

Heat crept up his neck into his face as an awkward silence hung between the two of you, the refrigerator making a low humming noise.

“Um, is.. Shota here?” you asked, attempting whatever you could to break the silence. 

“No, he spent the night at Keeho’s last night,” Jongseob answered. “Is… that okay?”

You didn’t follow. “What do you mean? Is what okay?”

He swallowed. “Like, that I stayed here last night. You were already sleeping when he decided he was going over there, so we didn’t have a chance to ask if that was okay. You know, like, me staying over here overnight without him,” he said, hands in his pockets, looking down at his feet, then to the side, anywhere but your face.

“Jongseob,” you began, catching his attention and finally getting him to look you in the eye. “You’re my friend too – not just Shota’s. I don’t give a shit if you stay overnight, with or without him. In fact, I’d just as well switch the two of you out, given the way you’ve been helping out around here lately. Hell, tell him to stay at Keeho’s forever and you can have his room,” you retorted with a mischievous smile, rolling your eyes, and he burst out laughing, the thick tension dissipating from the room.

“It’s more than just that,” he said, swiping a tear from his eye after finishing his laughing fit, “I don’t know how to say this without making it sound strange, but I didn’t want to… make things weird for Intak. Like, I dunno if he’d have a problem with something like that.”

You had just taken a sip of your tea and started coughing at this statement, your cramps acting up in response to the abdominal contractions, and you felt like you’d die for just a moment. Jongseob waved his hands apologetically, saying, “Sorry, I dunno what I just did, but I’m sorry!”

You laughed bitterly and waved your hand dismissively, sipping some tea to quell the burning in your throat. “No, it’s just that uh… there’s no need to worry about that. Intak and I are done.”

The finality of the statement burned in your throat and you took another sip of your tea, studying Jongseob’s face as you divulged the information, curious to see if it would look like he already knew, if Shota had gossiped about it to him already. But the shocked look on Jongseob’s face indicated that he had not; that this was news to him.

“Shit, um, I didn’t know. Sorry,” he said, crossing his arms and looking down at his feet.

“It’s all good, just still a little fresh,” you responded, and he nodded sympathetically, then looked back up at you. “Are you… okay? Do you like, want to talk or anything?”

“I’m good, thanks though. Think I probably need to just lay down for the time being.”

“Okay, well you know I’m out here just working on homework, so whatever you need, just let me know.”

“Thanks Seob, I will,” you responded, nodding appreciatively.

You headed back to the bedroom and felt a swirl of emotions as you crawled back under your comforter and placed the heating pad across your lower belly, sighing at the relief brought by the warmth. One moment you felt elated, the next you felt guilty, and the next, you felt like you wanted to sleep for 72 hours and wake up a whole new person with a new life. None of it made any sense. 

You opened up your laptop and started watching a random movie, but the first hint of anything sad in the movie pushed you to tears, and you pressed pause. You wiped at your eyes and took a few steadying breaths. What the hell was wrong with you?  

You scrolled on your phone for a little bit, trying to distract you, but the feeling gnawed at you.

  Loneliness. 

This was the first time you’d really spent any alone time in many weeks; since the accident, since the breakup, since before you even started dating Intak… and it felt absolutely terrible. When did you become so needy? 

Knock knock knock!

“Come in,” you said, feeling defeated, as Jongseob poked his head in. “Hey, just checking in. Does your heating pad need re-heated?” 

You smiled. The guy would make someone a very happy girlfriend someday, you considered, but immediately, your stomach felt funny at the thought. You tried to ignore the sensation as you stared blankly at him, noting the way his almost-dry hair hung across his forehead, the curve of his mouth. Had his lips always been that full?

“Hey… you good?” he asked, concern marring his features as you realized you’d just been staring at him like an idiot. You blushed fiercely. You’d just been looking at him, really looking at him. Were you so lonely that you were at risk of crushing on your baby brother’s best friend?

“Nah, but I’ll be fine,” you forced out, trying your best to choke out your disturbing thoughts, horrified at the state of your own mind. “But yeah, if you’re offering, this thing has definitely run out of heat. Thank you,” you responded, pulling the heating pad from out of the covers and offering it to him. “Sorry about the mess,” you said as he walked in, trying to avoid stepping on the scattered piles of clothes, shoes, trash, and everything in between.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s your space,” he responded matter-of-factly. “Do you need help cleaning, though? If you want, I can–”

“Dude, you’re not about to clean my room for me,” you responded with a shocked laugh, appreciative but embarrassed. 

“I’m just saying, if you needed me to, I would. You’re hurt,” he said, equally matter-of-factly, and walked out of the room with the heating pad in hand.

You’re hurt. 

You rolled the statement around in your mind, chewing on the inside of your lip absentmindedly. You supposed he was right, in more ways than one. Maybe you should just stop bitching internally and accept the pity, you wondered. Tears pricked behind your eyes. Stop, stop, stop , you demanded of yourself, hearing his footsteps approaching down the hall and rubbing at your eyes fiercely. 

He walked in cautiously and crossed your room to hand you the heating pad, and before he left, you swallowed the lump in your throat and managed to say, “Hey.”

He stopped in his tracks, turning towards you, eyes inquisitive. “Yeah?”

This was so embarrassing . Were you really going to do this? You needed to grow up, needed to stop relying on others so much for comfort, needed to give yourself space to be alone, to be single, you needed to–

“Please stay,” you said, in the form of a statement, rather than a question. 

“Oh I’m not leaving, I’ll just be out here, okay?”

You covered your eyes with a hand, embarrassment threatening to swallow you whole. “No, what I mean is… will you stay in here? With me? I really don’t wanna be alone right now.” You peaked through your fingers at him.

His eyes widened as he looked around the room, no doubt looking for somewhere to sit and do his homework, when you scooted over to the wall, leaving a space on the bed for him. 

He blinked a couple times, seemingly frozen for a second. “Um… yeah, sure. I can do that,” he responded, and backed out of your room, presumably to grab his stuff. You began to regret your request as the moments passed but once he came back in, your nerves settled down, and you reflected on the way Jongseob had become a surprisingly comforting person for you.

He sat on the edge of the bed and it squeaked quietly as he bent over to sort through his books. Setting his coffee mug on your nightstand, he scooted back against the wall and crossed his legs, getting comfortable against your too-many pillows. I should really get a headboard, you thought.

“Thanks, and sorry,” you muttered, feeling bad but inwardly pleased that he’d agreed to join you. “Oh, it’sno problem at all,” he replied, giving you a warm smile. You proceeded to open your laptop and popped your earbuds in to resume the movie that you were too much of a baby to finish beforehand. 

But for some reason, it didn’t make you as sad, now. You watched in silence as Jongseob read through one of his many textbooks, his body shifting frequently to stay comfortable. However, his position eventually devolved into laying down, and as you took out your earbuds, the movie finished, you looked over to find him near the edge of the bed, turned towards you, fast asleep. 

You reflected on the fact that he seemed to have a habit of sleeping near you, and your heart warmed. You wondered if that meant that he was as comfortable around you as you were around him. With that thought, you pushed your laptop forward on the bed, past your feet, and laid down on your side to face him.

He held his arms against his chest, his head propped up on one of your pillows. You scanned his face, listening to the calming, steady sounds of his breathing. His hair had finally dried and flopped across his forehead, unstyled and messy. His dark brows were relaxed, and his eyes occasionally darted under his lids, his lashes long, dark, and pretty. You studied the texture of his cheeks, noting the way his mild acne scarring had faded over the years. His nose, however, was still small and cute like it always had been. And his mouth…

Your heart quickened as your eyes followed the plump lines of his mouth, his lips a soft shade of pink; it hung open slightly but he was breathing through his nose, so he wasn’t snoring. Not this time , you thought to yourself with a smile. You watched the way his bare shoulder rose slightly with each relaxed inhale, blinking away sleep from your eyes. 

You just needed a few more moments of this, you thought, but in that moment, Jongseob’s sleepy eyes blinked open lazily, momentarily startled to see your face so close to his. His brows knit together, but he smiled. “Y/n, you’re being so creepy.”

You giggled quietly and poked his stomach, causing him to jerk into a protective position and yell harshly. He held up his hands in defense, laughing. “Hey, hey, if you’re gonna force me to do my homework in bed and then let me fall asleep, you can not tickle me. That’s where I draw the line. Especially because I can’t fight back! You’re too fragile right now!” 

You smiled evilly, not sure what had taken you over, and reached toward his ribs, but he was too fast – he grabbed your wrists tightly and despite your every attempt to break free, he maintained the firm grip and laughed as you struggled. He was much stronger than he looked, and your stomach did a little flip. Jesus, you said to yourself, get ahold of yourself, you pathetic loser.

As you had these thoughts, the energy in the room shifted, and soon, the only sound that filled it was the sound of heavy breathing, both yours and his, as he loosened his grip on your wrists and you surrendered, putting your hands up. His breathing slowed to normal, and as you both lay there facing each other, he broke the uncomfortable silence.

“So. What happened with you and Intak?”

You blinked a couple times, looking past him to organize your thoughts, not expecting him to ask so bluntly. “He, uh, didn’t think things were going to work out,” you said, your smile turning to a frown as you remembered the tears in Intak’s eyes as he broke things off with you. Guilt flooded your conscience.

“Why not?” Jongseob asked, his eyes fixed on you. You were surprised at how nosey he was being, since he usually didn’t pry. But you relished in the closeness that you seemed to have regained with him. You hadn’t really been able to talk to anyone about it, at least not in detail. 

You sighed. “I guess, put as simply as possible, we just weren’t right for each other.”

Jongseob scrunched his nose up at this explanation, clearly unconvinced. You sighed again. “If I’m honest, he was really great, but, you know that feeling you get when you know someone is just the person for you? Like you know it, deep in your gut?” you looked at him for signs of understanding and his face was unreadable for a moment so you quickly added, “well, maybe you haven’t experienced that before. You’re still young,” you added with a teasing smile and he frowned slightly, blushing furiously. 

“No, I know what you’re talking about,” he said, his usually high-ish pitched voice taking on a softer, more husky tone. Your mind raced for a split second, but you didn’t give it the opportunity to get away. 

“Okay, yeah,” you continued, pushing a lock of hair out of your face. “So that feeling, I never really had it with him from the beginning, and we even agreed to keep things casual. I think,” you chewed on your lip for a moment, contemplating, “I think I kinda knew. Like, I knew there was an expiration date for us.”

Jongseob blinked at you, looking mildly surprised. “Oh. Did he know that?” 

The question felt like a sucker punch, even though you knew he didn’t mean it like that. He was just straightforward, and it was a reasonable question to ask. “Well no, but I also think I wanted to just wait and see where things would go, you know? Shit, I feel like this is making me sound like a complete asshole, and maybe I am—“

“That’s not what I’m thinking right now, don’t worry,” he cut in, and you appreciated it, nodding in understanding. 

“So, the other night, Intak just kinda dropped the bomb out of nowhere, and said he felt we needed to split up. Said that he felt that he liked me more than I liked him, and… something about not wanting to be second best to me? I can’t remember exactly how he worded it, but I’m still unclear on what he meant.”

Jongseob eyed you thoughtfully, then said, “Did you ask him to elaborate?”

“I didn’t get the chance. He left pretty quickly after that… it seemed like his mind was made up.” 

Jongseob hummed in response, looking at the wall for several seconds before propping himself up on his elbow and looking back at you with a serious expression. “So what you’re telling me is that you’re a cold, evil heartbreaker.”

Your mouth dropped open as you prepared to defend yourself, the words stinging momentarily, before he couldn’t stop holding back his smile and started laughing at you teasingly. You pushed him abruptly and he almost fell off the bed, flailing his arms to keep his balance and laughing even harder. 

“Hey,” you scolded, “it’s not funny!” But you started laughing in tandem and the bitterness, sadness, loneliness, and pain began to leave your body as you doubled over in laughter. Or so you thought, as tears started spilling down your cheeks uncontrollably, much to your surprise. Jongseob’s smile turned to horror as he automatically put a hand reassuringly on your shoulder. 

“Hey dude, knock it off,” he pleaded, shaking you lightly, which made you cry even harder, unable to control the sobs that wracked your body, your hands covering your face. And before you knew it, he was pulling you towards himself awkwardly. 

Unable to get his arms around you while the both of you were laying down, he dragged you up into a sitting position as you wept, holding you to his chest and shushing you softly. Your hands remained in front of your face as the tears continued, more slowly now, your breathing starting to regulate. Meanwhile, you felt one of his hands flat against your back, while the other petted your head soothingly.

“Sshh,” he whispered, and as he released you and you wiped your face with your t-shirt, you laughed shakily. “Jesus christ, sorry. Dunno where that came from… guess I just needed to release some pent-up emotion or something.”

“Probably karma for tickling me,” he responded with a sly grin, and you pinched his arm, eliciting a yelp as he slapped your hand away and sat across from you, legs hanging off the bed.

“And I’d do it again!” you yelled, laughing weakly. 

His face sobered slightly. “You sure you’re okay, though?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. It’s weird, I guess nobody really did anything wrong, but I still feel like an asshole because he’s the one who got hurt.”

He nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense. Intak’s solid though, I’m sure he’ll be okay. Hell, I heard that before he started dating you, he was a little bit of a whore, so hopefully he’ll be back in the game in no time.”

It dawned on you that you hadn’t really known that side of Intak. Not that you cared, but it had just never really come up. You smiled, hoping Jongseob was right. “I hope so, I just want minimal weirdness, you know?”

He nodded, and turned his head towards the door as you both heard the front door unlock and open and the apartment flooded with noise from Shota and Keeho. “I’m gonna go say hi. You need anything from out there?”

You shook your head and got under the covers as he grabbed his stuff and exited.

Oddly enough, you felt that one weight lifted from your chest, while another settled there in its place. You sighed and laid there, mustering the energy you’d need to venture out and join them.

Chapter 10: I'll Never Leave Your Side

“What the hell is up with you?” your boss scolded, leading you into his office. You sat down in the chair across from his desk and ran a hand through your hair and sighed, frustrated and not looking forward to this conversation. “I’m sorry Jeremy, I think I’m just still moving a little slowly after my accident a couple weeks ago.”

“Well I can’t afford for you to be moving slowly. Figure it out, y/n. This isn’t acceptable and you know it,” he snapped back immediately, staring you down. You hated the way he cared more about money than the human beings doing the work. 

“Or get a doctor's note. I don’t care, just don’t show up like nothing’s wrong, expecting everyone else to pick up your slack,” he said as he stood up, motioning towards the door. Tears threatened to spill but you kept your composure, refusing to let him see you cry. 

“Sorry, okay. I understand. I’ll do better,” you responded dryly with a curt nod, and left his office, hands shaking. You had about half an hour left in your shift and could barely get anything done, your brain more a mess than it usually was. 

You loved almost everything about your job: your clients, the flexible scheduling, your co-workers – you’d spent most of your adult life thus far dreaming of a career like this. You even enjoyed having to dress in business casual: your normal wardrobe tended to be much more on the casual side of things, so you enjoyed experimenting and seeing how much of your own personality you could inject into the drab dress code. 

However, the one thing that you hated about your job – and it wasn’t a small thing – was your boss Jeremy.

Jeremy was the kind of person who loved having authority. In some ways, he was great for the job – always taking the lead and being able to make difficult, split-second decisions. But in every other way, he was a thorn in your side, always nitpicking, never giving his team the benefit of the doubt. He seemed to be exceedingly comfortable correcting and scolding others, in a way that made your skin crawl. 

You wished that he didn’t have so much power over your emotions, but the way he treated you like some expendable machine, especially when you were getting over a head injury, hurt. Badly.

After clocking out and holding everything in, you cried the entire drive home. In the parking lot for your apartment, you sat for a while and dried your tears, trying to get your eyes not to look so puffy before grabbing your bag, slamming your car door shut, and heading up the stairs.

“Hi, y/n!” Jongseob greeted you the moment you walked through the door, catching you off guard. Normally it wouldn’t have been so jarring but your shitty day had made everything overwhelming. “Hey,” you replied, throwing your stuff down and grabbing a beer out of the fridge. 

“Tough day?” he asked, and as you looked over at him for the first time today, you softened just a tiny bit. His hair hung in limp waves and he wore a purple long-sleeved t-shirt with black pajama shorts, and was sitting on the couch, perfectly cozy, his eyes wide in concern as he waited for your answer. 

“Yeah, you could fuckin’ say that,” you replied, a little more curtly than you meant, and took a long sip of the beer. “My boss is getting on my ass for how much my performance has dipped since my concussion, and I’m so sick of it. I don’t understand how I’m expected to work at exactly the same level while I’m dealing with all these headaches and random episodes of dizziness and fatigue. Sometimes my vision even gets all wonky and I have to take a break from looking at my computer screen. But of course, he doesn’t give a shit about that, he just cares about money.”

Jongseob stood up. “Wait, you’re still dealing with all of that?”

“Yeah but that’s not the–”

“Y/n, when’s the last time you talked to a doctor? You should probably have someone check you out just to be safe,” he interrupted, a concerned look on his face that you ignored.

“I’m fine, I’m sure it’s normal, I just wish people would be patient with–”

“But how do you know it’s normal if you don’t get checked out just in case? I dunno, it just seems like–”

“ Enough!” you yelled with enough volume it made him visibly cringe, and you immediately regretted it, but your frustration was overwhelming and you didn’t know how to stop. “I’ve had a shitty enough day with one man breathing down my neck, I don’t need another.”

Jongseob’s eyes widened in shock and he looked taken aback for a moment, then hurt. Shit, shit, shit , you scolded yourself. “Jongseob, I’m sorry, I didn’t–”

“No, I get it. I’m sorry. Heard,” he replied quietly and picked up his stuff, heading to Shota’s room and closing the door quietly. You realized that, like last weekend, Shota was likely at Keeho’s again, so his room would be empty. You took a long drink of your beer, sat at the kitchen table, and sighed into both of your hands. 

He was the last person who’d deserved that, and you needed to apologize, but you would also have understood if he was mad and didn’t want you around at the moment. You sipped your beer, disappointment and regret souring your stomach and forcing you to stop drinking it. 

You took a couple long, deep breaths. You’d been frustrated by Jeremy’s blatant disregard for your health, and then came home to get frustrated by Jongseob’s obvious concern for it. It was completely backwards, and you knew it. 

You supposed you just wanted to be listened to, and that was fair, but it didn’t excuse the way you’d yelled at him. The expression on his face as you’d shouted flashed into your mind, and your chest tightened. You’d felt like you’d been in some sort of trance, blinded by your frustration and exhaustion; and now that you’d had a moment of quiet, you were nothing short of horrified at your behavior. It had been so unlike you.

The apartment became eerily quiet, filled with nothing but the ambient sounds of the traffic outside and the low hum of the refrigerator. You stood up, walked over to the kitchen sink and dumped the rest of your beer. Setting the empty bottle on the counter, you ran your fingers through your hair and groaned, squeezing your eyes shut. He probably needed space, he probably wanted to be left alone, he probably didn’t want to see you right now: all thoughts that ran through your head as you walked down the hall and lightly tapped on Shota’s door.

“Seob? Is it okay if I come in?” you asked, softening your voice as much as possible to be less threatening. God, how could you have been such an asshole to him of all people?

He didn’t answer, so you cracked the door just barely. “I’m coming in, okay?” you said, and as you opened the door wider, your heart shattered in your chest. 

He was sitting on the edge of Shota’s bed, face in his hands, bent over slightly. Fuck, what have I done? you thought as you rushed over and knelt on the floor in front of him. “Oh my god Jongseob, I’m so sorry for yelling, I was such a complete and total asshole,” you insisted, rubbing one of his arms, unsure of what to do. You’d never seen him like this before, and you wanted the floor to swallow you whole. You didn’t deserve him. He hadn’t deserved this.

But he shook his head adamantly and took his hands away from his face, wiping the tears from his eyes with a couple efficient swipes. “It’s not that, I just… fuck –” he began, but tears started to spill again and he wiped them away as well as he was able. He took a deep, shaky breath and exhaled, closing his eyes, then opened them and looked at you, his face looking determined, all the while his lower lip still trembling.

“You have no idea how fucking scary it was to see your head hit the floor like that, y/n. To see the ambulance take you away and not know if you were going to be okay, if you’d wake up, if you’d–”

He paused, voice cracking and tears brimming at his eyes again, and your hands found themselves on his thighs, rubbing reassuringly. “Hey, hey, it’s alright. It all turned out okay, right? I’m fine, okay?” you kept repeating, but he was inconsolable at this point. 

 You stood up onto your knees and pulled him forward into an embrace, his thin body clutching onto you desperately, chin resting on your shoulder. You rubbed circles into his back with one hand and began stroking his hair with the other. He continued shakily, “I was so relieved when you woke up at the hospital, I– I never realized until then how much you mean to me. I dunno what I’d do if anything happened to you, I just don’t know how I would cope.”

Your heart felt like it had stopped, and it suddenly became clear to you – the reason he’d resorted to taking care of you the moment you left the hospital, the way he kept obnoxiously doing trivial tasks for you, all the overbearing comments and questions about your symptoms. He’d been traumatized, seeing you get hurt. He was doing all this because he cared for you, not because he thought you were weak, not because he wanted to make you feel bad about yourself, but because he was worried about you. Truly, sincerely worried.

Soft sobs escaped his body as you held him firmly. “Seob, listen to me,” you said softly into his ear. “I’m so sorry for not listening to you before, but you have to trust me. No matter what happens, I will be fine. I’ll go to the doctor, I’ll get some more scans or something just to be safe. I promise, I’ll never leave your side. Do you understand me?” 

He nodded gently, hugging you even tighter.

As you pulled away slightly, not knowing how he would react to this gesture but feeling you had no other choice– you pressed your lips to his cheek, letting them linger there for a moment, trying to instill in him at least a fraction of the calmness you were trying to give him. Without a word, he kissed your own cheek in response, and pulled you ever closer to him, arms wrapped around you again tightly. Your heart beat wildly in your chest, feeling like it would burst. Before now, you’d never experienced affection this intense, this protective, this overwhelming before. 

And then it hit you. That feeling… it was love . 

You’d fallen in love with Jongseob, and you would do absolutely anything to keep him from feeling pain like this, even if it meant swallowing your pride and letting him fuss over you. Tears stung your eyes as you pulled away from him slightly and swiped your thumbs underneath his eyes to wipe the tears away, your mouth trembling. And then, it happened. One moment, he was looking deep into your eyes, and the next, his lips were against yours. His mouth didn’t move –  he just stayed there, mouth barely pressed to yours, his hands making their way to either side of your face, holding you gently. So, he must have felt it, too , you thought, as you closed your eyes, a tear slipping out of one of them.

Chapter 11: Please

Your hands gripped the loose fabric of Jongseob’s shirt at his sides. He pulled back from the kiss slightly, the taste of his tears wet on your lips, his hands still cupping your face gently. You opened your eyes to look at him and his eyes were shining, filled with a mixture of apprehension and desire. He sniffled quietly. “Can I… try that again?”

You nodded. With one shaky hand, he pushed a lock of hair behind your ear and with the other, he guided your face up again to his, knees parting to allow your body to come between them, closer to him. Your grip on his shirt loosened and you flattened your hands against the sides of his waist, putting less distance between your body and his, your stomach doing somersaults as he kissed you a second time. You wanted more, wanted to throw all caution to the wind, but you held it together, not wanting to overwhelm him.

This kiss was less anxious, his lips parting to press against yours more firmly this time, his breath quickening as you kissed him back, mouth moving in tandem with his, noting the way his lips were even softer than they looked. Your head felt light. Your hands slid around to his back and as you pulled away from the kiss, you pulled him into a tight hug. 

Shota’s room was silent other than the sounds of both of you breathing. Your heart was still racing and your mind had gone completely blank, so you just held onto him for dear life, scared to ruin the moment, scared for what it all meant, scared for what came next…

The moment was cut short, however, as the sound of the front door opening shocked the two of you apart and you looked at him, horrified. What is he doing back home already? you mouthed to Jongseob. I don’t know, he whispered, equally disturbed. 

You sat back on your heels on the floor and Jongseob put his feet up on the bed, both of you trying your hardest to look like nothing weird was going on, like you hadn’t just been hanging out in your little brother’s bedroom, locking lips with his best friend. 

Footsteps approached the cracked bedroom door and Shota took one step inside and froze, staring at Jongseob, then at you. He raised an eyebrow. “What are y’all doing in here?” he asked, not angrily, just confused.

You stepped in to save the day, laughing nervously. “Sorry Shota, Jongseob was just hanging out in here and I came in to ask him about a book I’m reading. Are you home for the night already? Thought you were going to Keeho’s for the night.”

You cringed inwardly, hating the way that last part sounded, like you’d been hoping to have the house to yourselves. He eyed you thoughtfully, then said, “Yeah, I just forgot to bring a change of clothes,” he responded, walking over to his dresser and digging out some joggers, a t-shirt, some underwear, and socks. 

“What, you mean you’re not gonna just borrow his clothes?” you asked, sticking your tongue out. He grimaced at you, responding, “Not a chance, you know how much I hate sharing clothes.” You did know, fully, but had decided to joke about it anyway to keep the focus on him. Since you weren’t the best liar, you didn’t want him to ask any more detailed questions about what you’d been doing.

After Shota left, you forced yourself to look up at Jongseob and he looked worried, gaze fixed in his lap, fidgeting with his fingers restlessly. You stood up on your knees and climbed onto the bed to sit across from him, legs crossed, and grabbed his hands, thumbs swiping over them soothingly. 

He kept his eyes cast downwards, and said in a quiet voice, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” and your heart sank. The sting of rejection started to spread through your body as you prepared yourself for the worst. 

“Why not?” was all you could muster in response, your throat tight. He glanced up at you, looking surprised, and his eyes softened but you could see pain, real pain, in them. His voice firmed, as he said a bit louder, “You just got out of a relationship.”

“So?” you responded, keeping your eyes on him. He needed to understand. 

“You probably think I’m too young for you,” he said a little more quietly.

“If that was true, do you think I would have let you do that?” you asked, voice serious.

He looked to the side thoughtfully, a frown still marring his features. “I dunno. Maybe. You’ve been lonely and I–”

You silenced him by leaning forward immediately, kissing his mouth softly, just once, and sitting back down. He froze, his cheeks colored scarlet, and looked at you with questions in his eyes. 

“Jongseob. This is kind of unfamiliar territory for me, and I don’t really know how to navigate it any better than you do.” You paused, shocked at the way this was just starting to spill out. This buried part of you that you’d denied, pushed down, never explored. 

“I care about you. More than as a friend. And I think you feel the same way,” you blurted. 

A shy smile appeared on Jongseob’s face, breaking through the anxiety and doubt. “Well that second part is pretty obvious,” he replied, blushing again. You couldn’t help smiling back, relief spreading through your body. His hands were still in yours and you held them up, kissing them one at a time, then setting them back down in his lap. 

“This could get complicated, though. I don’t really know how anyone would react to… us. If you know what I mean. You being Shota’s best friend, the age gap, all that stuff.”

Jongseob’s face sobered. “Wait, back up. Us? As in… like, you wanna date me?”

“You dummy, what else would that mean?” you teased, and for the first time since you’d gotten home, you heard his laugh, bright and adorable, the tension visibly leaving his body as he covered his mouth with both hands. 

“Unless of course, you don’t want to,” you said with mock seriousness. “I would understand. I mean, there’s plenty of girls your own age at college, it would be easy enough to–”

“No no, I want to,” Jongseob cut in, putting his hands up argumentatively. “I mean. If you do, too. I don’t care about the complications, it doesn’t matter. Let me be your boyfriend, y/n. Please.”

Please.

You were glad to still be sitting on Shota’s bed, because if you’d been standing up, your knees probably would have buckled. 

You realized after probably too many seconds had passed that he was staring at you, waiting for your response, fear clouding his eyes with each passing moment. Your face was already burning up so it wouldn’t be convincing, but you decided to look up and pretend to think about your response.

“Hmm,” you hummed in a sing-song voice, then looked back down at him. “Okay, deal,” you replied, holding your hand out to him. He rolled his eyes and grabbed your hand, not shaking it. 

“You can be a real asshole sometimes, you know that?” he said unconvincingly, a lovesick smile plastered on his face. You smiled back, heart feeling like it could burst. “I know, but I can be very sweet, too,” you replied, and pulled him in for another kiss.

Chapter 12: It Was So Simple in the Moonlight

“Where did you say the green onions were?” Jongseob asked, crouched in front of the fridge, searching behind plastic containers and all your various sauce bottles. “Produce drawer. Might be under some stuff, though,” you replied as you massaged marinade into diced pieces of chicken. 

After you’d talked a little more, Jongseob had agreed to cook dinner with you. It felt so suddenly domestic. He’d helped you cook plenty of times before, but this time was different. The shy smiles, the way he’d linger closer to you than usual. 

As you rinsed the rice in the sink, his arms made their way around your waist from behind and he rested his head on your shoulder. You let out a small surprised gasp and stiffened at the touch, then tried to relax, still getting used to it. He giggled, kissed your cheek, and went back to the counter to chop the veggies. You continued, unable to hide the smile glued to your face, but in all honesty, you didn’t want to hide it. Not anymore. 

Once the meal was finished, you both had decided to eat in the living room and watch a movie. Jongseob’s pick was Notting Hill , which surprised you. “Didn’t know you were into rom-coms,” you said, inquisitively. He shrugged, responding, “Usually they’re not my thing but this one’s different. It’s sort of a comfort movie of mine, I’m not sure why. We don’t have to watch it if you’re not into it, I just–”

“We’re watching it,” you said with a smile, and he smiled back sheepishly, and you both ate at the coffee table, sitting on the floor before finishing your meal and moving up to the couch. 

About a quarter of the way through the movie, Jongseob turned towards you and stared at you for a moment. “Y/n? Can I hold your hand?” You replied by immediately slotting your fingers between his, your hand enveloped in his and resting on his thigh. Your positions devolved from him fidgeting with your fingers in his lap, to you leaning on his shoulder, until eventually you were sat up straight with him laying on his side, his head nestled in your lap while you played with his shaggy blonde hair. 

You couldn’t remember your heart ever feeling this full, in your entire life.

As the movie ended, Jongseob stretched his arms overhead in your lap and yawned, twisting to lay with his face up to look at you. You pushed his bangs out of his face. “Nice forehead, bro,” you said, and bent over to kiss it. He smiled, canines showing. Cute. 

“Are you gonna keep calling me bro even when we’re dating?” he asked, eyebrow raised accusingly, still smiling. You considered for a moment, then responded, “Yeah, probably. Was there something else you wanted me to call you, though?” 

At this question, his face blanched and he shook his head adamantly. “Nah, I was just messing around.” But you were like a shark with blood in the water. “No, you bring up a good point. I should probably call you something else sometimes, at least to mix it up. Sweetheart? Darling? Angel?” You looked at his face to monitor his reactions, but he maintained a stubborn pout, arms crossed. 

“Hmmm, okay. Baby ?”

Jongseob’s eyes widened and his face reddened but he tried to maintain his expression, and you knew you had him. “Mmm, okay, noted,” you responded with a conniving smile, and he rolled his body towards you and pressed his face against your belly, groaning. You ran your fingers through his hair playfully, beaming at your success. 

As you laid there, his body relaxed and you leaned your head back on the couch, fingers still in his hair, thoughts and emotions swirling erratically. You were glad that just for tonight, Shota was gone, and the two of you could exist like this in peace. Before reality set in, before you had to have the conversations, or lack thereof – you weren’t sure yet how things would happen. You laid there in silence, various thoughts, ideas, and worries running through your head, and eventually you realized how late it had gotten. How long had you been sitting here like this?

“Baby,” you whispered, waking Jongseob from half-sleep. He inhaled deeply, then turned his head up towards you, opened his eyes and smiled lazily. Your heart swelled. “Let’s go to bed,” you said, and his sleepy smile turned to an anxious expression. “Y/n, I dunno if I’m ready to–”

“Sleep,” you cut him off, laughing quietly but understanding his concern. “Just to sleep. Is that okay?” 

His gaze softened, his relief obvious, and he nodded his head and smiled. 

Jongseob headed to Shota’s room to change, and you headed to yours and threw on some loose black boxer shorts and a baggy gray t-shirt. You finished washing your face and brushing your teeth and when you came back into your room, Jongseob was sitting on the edge of the bed, similarly dressed in plaid boxers and an oversized ratty t-shirt. You felt your body heat up, suddenly wondering if this had been a good idea.

Although you were dressed basically the same, you felt surprisingly self-conscious, wondering if you should have worn a tank top instead, or some cute pajama shorts, but as you were having these thoughts, Jongseob looked up at you and smiled. You felt your defenses go up and immediately resorted to sarcasm. “What are you lookin’ at, buddy?” you asked, fists up playfully.

“You,” he replied without skipping a beat, and your stomach did a flip. “You’re so beautiful,” he continued, “and I’ve wanted to tell you for so long.” 

Your jaw dropped and your brain floundered, searching for something, anything to say in response, but you just covered your eyes and mumbled, “Thanks,” then joined him on the bed. 

You got under the covers with him and you faced each other, smiling dumbly. “So are you,” you finally said to him quietly, feeling incredibly lame. You wanted to tell him how perfect, how stunning he was, all the time, every moment of the day, but you just didn’t have the words right now. 

“So,” you began, knowing this conversation would have to come sooner or later. “So?” he responded.

You sighed. “Obviously, Shota is the first person I’d want to tell about this, and I assume it’s the same for you.” He nodded in agreement, and you continued, “But I’m not sure I want to tell him just yet.”

“Why not?” he asked, not argumentatively, just curiously.

“I just,” you began, trying to find the words. “I guess I just don’t love the way it might look. Shota’s like, the least judgmental person I know, but I still worry. Like you said, I just got out of a relationship, and I dunno, it might look like… you’re taking advantage of me? Or vice versa? Ugh, I don’t know if this is making sense or if I’m making too big of a deal out of it.”

“Nah,” Jongseob responded. “If it’s important to you, it’s not trivial. I don’t really care either way, but if you wanna wait, I’ve got no problem with that.” You smiled. It didn’t surprise you at all how patient and sweet he was being, but it still made you incredibly happy.

You spent the next hour talking about anything and everything: shared memories, childhood nostalgia, your shitty boss, his current classes. At some point, however, his eyes started getting heavier and heavier, and you could tell he was forcing himself to stay awake. 

“Okay sleepyhead, which spoon do you wanna be?” you asked.

“Which spoon do you wanna be?” he replied.

“I asked first.”

“This is your bed, you should choose.”

You scoffed. “This is my bed so I should be able to make you choose.”

“Y/n, if I confess to you how badly I want to be little spoon, you can not make fun of me or I will become a fork.”

You slapped your hand over your mouth, stifling laughter – not at his confession, but at how dramatic he was being. “Oh my god, turn over,” you ordered, and he flipped over away from you with a huff. 

You shifted towards him and rested your face behind his head, inhaling the scent of his shampoo as you wrapped an arm around his waist and rested your hand on his chest. He put his hand over top of yours and gripped it tightly as you pushed your body flush against him, your bare legs intertwining with his. 

Well, this isn’t very relaxing, you thought as you laid awake, heart pounding, body burning up. You wanted to be closer to him, wanted to flip him around and kiss him deeply, wanted to–

At that thought, you began hearing soft snores coming from him, and you could have melted. You smiled into his hair, kissing the back of his head, the side of his neck, the part of his bare shoulder that was exposed by the loose collar of his t-shirt. Eventually, you drifted off as well, face pressed up against him, happier than you’d ever been.

Chapter 13: Brother's Blessing

Over the next couple weeks, you and Jongseob narrowly escaped being discovered by Shota and Keeho as you try to keep your new relationship undercover. 

Shota and Keeho had started alternating weekends spent with each other, so the following weekend, Keeho stayed over, which made the apartment fairly crowded with Jongseob staying there, too. Jongseob had discussed the arrangement with Shota and said that he didn’t mind staying at his dorm, but Shota insisted that he stay like he always did, since Keeho would be sleeping in his room anyway. 

Both Friday and Saturday nights, you’d wanted so badly to have Jongseob stay in your bed, but it had been your own idea to keep the relationship a secret for the time being. You knew it was a good idea, but as nighttime descended, you were kicking yourself. 

The best you could do was wait until Shota and Keeho had gone to bed, then go out to the living room to hang out with Jongseob on the couch. It was nerve-wracking since Shota’s bathroom was next door to his room and both of them had to enter the hallway anytime they needed to use it; they could come out and catch you at any moment. 

Although you yearned for the time that you’d be able to stop hiding, part of you loved the thrill of it – cuddling, talking, and making out on the couch with the constant threat of discovery looming. You couldn’t deny that it was at least a little bit fun. 

On the second night of that weekend, you stayed up with Jongseob on the couch until nearly two in the morning, both of you getting carried away with whispered conversations, heated touches, increasingly needy kisses. It was such a relief to be able to spend time with him like this after pretending all day, even if your eyes stung from staying awake. 

You were laying your head on his shoulder as you both watched a movie quietly, talking all throughout it, when Shota’s door opened, causing you both to jump and separate in one dramatic movement. You hoped he hadn’t noticed, as he walked out to the kitchen and froze, noticing you two on the couch through sleepy eyes. “Y/n? Whatchu doin out here?” he asked, speech slurred and sleepy. 

“Uh, couldn’t sleep,” you lied through your teeth, and Jongseob snickered quietly. Shota scowled, eyes barely open as he filled a glass with water from the tap and gulped it all down at once, then belched. “Jongseob couldn’t either, huh? Okay, weirdos…” he mumbled as he shuffled back to his room and shut the door. 

You looked at Jongseob and made a face somewhere between a smile and a grimace. “Oops,” you whispered, and he giggled quietly, his face lit up by the soft ambient lighting from the TV. You loved seeing him laugh. “You have the absolute best smile,” you told him. 

“Ah, you like these bad boys?” he replied, hooking a finger into his mouth and baring one of his sharp, crooked canine teeth. You laughed at how funny he looked. “Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do.”

He took his finger out of his mouth and gave you a shy smile. “Ah… Well, thank you.” Affection for him flooded your body and you tackled him, slapping a hand over his mouth when he started laughing too loudly at being tickled. Eventually, neither of you could stay awake and when he began to drift off on the couch, you kissed his forehead and returned to your bedroom. 

Just one more week, you told yourself. I can make it at least one more week.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Over the next week, you took some time off work to go to the doctor for a follow-up appointment to make sure your ongoing symptoms weren’t anything to worry about. Jongseob insisted on going with you, and you weren’t sure which one of you was more embarrassed when the medical assistant asked if he was your little brother. 

Fortunately, you were able to get some repeat scans within the same week and everything checked out normal. You’d texted Jongseob the moment they came in.

y/n: guess whose noggin is normal and brain bleed-free?

js: oh my god that’s so good to hear

y/n: [sunglasses smiling emoji] [finger gun emoji]

js: y/n i swear to god

y/n: yeah i guess it is good news huh

js: i’m literally in class about to cry happy tears

y/n: :( wait stop, are you for real??

js: yes!! sorry that i care about your fucking wellbeing and that you’re incredibly important to me!

You sat in the break room, smiling so wide at your phone that your face started to hurt.

y/n: you are the absolute sweetest. i’m sorry for worrying you

js: whatever dude. thanks for getting it checked out. i know you probably did it to shut me up but i just feel a lot better

y/n: [sunglasses smiling emoji] [finger gun emoji]

js: sigh

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the next weekend approached, you knew Shota probably had plans to stay at Keeho’s, so you tried to catch him on Thursday night. You texted him to make sure he was free, and told him you wanted to hang out and have dinner. He agreed, no questions asked, and as soon as you sent the text finalizing the plans, your stomach started to hurt. You figured it would probably go fine, but it didn’t make it any less nerve-wracking.

You came home from work and walked in to find him already working on dinner. “Hey, thanks, Shota, you didn’t have to do that,” you said, secretly pleased that he’d already gotten started since you were starving. He looked over at you from where he was chopping vegetables. “Y/n, you really baby me a lot, you know that?” he said, an accusing smile on his face.

You smiled back in shock. “You’re goddamn right I do. You know what, you can finish this on your own, right? There’s actually this video game I really wanted to play–”

“No no, you can still help!” he replied immediately, laughing nervously. “That’s what I thought, punk,” you said with a sly smile as you washed your hands and joined him.

Once you’d both gotten settled at the table, your heart started to pick up pace. You cleared your throat as Shota took his first bite. “So… this thing with Keeho. How’s it going?” you began. Although it wasn’t the primary reason for your request to sit down and talk, you had still been meaning to check in with him about his new relationship as well.

“It’s good,” he replied, mouth full of food. You smiled fondly at him, glad he’d been able to find a boyfriend despite his ass-backwards manners and many, many peculiarities. He chewed and swallowed. “Yeah, he uh, he’s really great. I’m glad I gave it a chance.”

You nodded, happy with what you were hearing. “Good, that’s good. So he’s a good boyfriend? No regrets, right? You know I have a low threshold for kicking that guy’s ass,” you said, clenching your fists dramatically. He laughed and covered his mouth cutely. “Yes, he’s a really good boyfriend,” he replied, looking down and smiling thoughtfully. “I feel like ever since the incident at the club, he’s been spending our entire relationship trying to make it up to me.”

“Good! He should!”

He giggled at your honesty. “Yeah, if I’m being completely honest, it makes me feel a little bad but I do kind of enjoy it. Is that fucked up?”

“Not at all,” you replied immediately. “He should be treating you like royalty every single day. If he doesn’t, you’d better let me know.”

Shota smiled and nodded shyly. He was usually so sassy, and it was adorable seeing him be this vulnerable, talking about his boyfriend. You still had your doubts about Keeho, but as long as Shota was happy, you couldn’t really complain. 

And now, for the elephant in the room, your brain announced intrusively, and you picked at your food, suddenly nervous.

“So, Shota. There’s something that I wanna tell you, and, I’m open to whatever you have to say about it.”

He looked up at you from his food, eyebrows raised curiously, waiting for you to continue. You cleared your throat. “I’m, um. I’m seeing someone.”

He nodded. “Okay? That was fast.” His bluntness stung, but you expected it, and you knew he wasn’t saying it to be rude; he was just speaking his mind. “Do I know them?” 

“Him. Yeah, you do.”

Shota stared at you, growing impatient by the moment. “O…kay? So?”

Your hands began to sweat and you rubbed them on your work pants, avoiding eye contact with him. “What, are you back together with Intak or something?”

“No…”

“Y/n just tell m–”

“It’s Jongseob.”

He blinked once. Twice. Silence hung thick in the air and the room felt stuffy. You looked down at your plate, waiting, waiting, dreading Shota’s response, his scolding, his objections.

But the sound of his laughter split through the air and you looked up, confused, as Shota started cracking up. “No way,” he wheezed. “You and Jongseob? For real ?”

You sighed. “Yes,” you replied blandly, feeling a blush creep up your neck as you fought an embarrassed smile. He fell into another fit of laughter and you wanted to roll your eyes but didn’t; you were simply relieved that he didn’t seem mad. 

“Damn, I knew you were a cradle robber but I didn’t know you were that much of one,” he blurted out, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. You must not have been able to control the look that you made at that comment, because his face immediately sobered. “Shit, that came out a lot ruder than I meant it. I was just teasing, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Nah, it’s all good, I kinda deserve it. Well. I mean, I dunno. I definitely didn’t develop feelings for him on purpose. Feels like something that just happened to me,” you said, and hid your face into your hands, letting out a muffled scream. “God, why is this so embarrassing?”

Shota giggled. “Because you’re dating your little bro’s best friend, you pervert.”

Your jaw dropped, horrified, but he was laughing again. Okay, this could have been a lot worse, you thought. You could handle the jokes, and they were at least expected. 

As Shota’s laughing subsided, however, he took on a more serious tone. “You don’t think this is a rebound situation, right? Like, after your thing with Intak?”

“No,” you replied immediately, and he seemed relieved at the quickness of your answer. “No, not at all. I think I’ve been in denial about this for a minute, but I haven’t really explored it that much. One thing I know for certain, though, is that this has nothing to do with the situation with Intak. I promise.”

Shota nodded. “Okay. Okay, that’s good. Because… shit, I actually don’t know if I should tell you this.” He thought about it for just a moment longer, and then continued, “Ah, fuck it. He’d probably end up telling you anyway. When we were all kids, he had a pretty huge crush on you. I thought it was just a childhood thing, but now I’m wondering if, maybe… it never went away?”

Your throat went dry at this information, and you just nodded, thinking. 

After a few moments of silence, Shota sighed and cleared his voice. “Okay, serious talk time. I’m only gonna say this once, because you know how much I hate being confrontational.” You nodded, encouraging him to continue, his intense eye contact burning into you. 

“Just know that …you need to be really careful. Jongseob looks up to you, and you’re in a position where you could probably hurt him pretty badly.” You winced at this comment, but you knew he was right. “With Intak, I honestly couldn’t care less, and I’m sorry if this is blunt but I figured that wouldn’t really last long since the two of you don’t have that much in common, but with Jongseob? I dunno that he can really do casual, when it comes to dating. Especially not with you.”

You felt tears prick at the back of your eyes as you felt the pressure of the situation, but there was one thing you were certain of.

“Shota… I… love him,” you said, tears slipping out of your eyes. His face dropped at your change in demeanor, eyes round and shining as he nodded, listening to you intently. “Okay, okay. Good. I mean, shit. I’m sorry, did I say something to hurt your feelings? You don’t think I’m mad at you, right?”

You shook your head adamantly and wiped the tears away. “No no no, don’t worry, it’s not you. You’re being the best friend possible right now, and the best brother. It’s just… hearing you say all that, it just made me realize how much I really do love him. And, I haven’t told him this yet, so please don’t say anything, but…” you rubbed your eyes again, taking a deep shuddering breath. “It’s just overwhelming, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so protective of someone before, other than you of course. I can’t imagine messing around with him, you have to understand I could never, ever even imagine doing something like that to him. You have to understand,” you said and began to cry again, and he reached across the table and grabbed your hands. 

“Okay yeah, I hear you, I understand. I’m glad, y/n. It’s okay. Please stop crying,” he said with a nervous laugh. You and Shota didn’t cry in front of each other often at all, so he didn’t seem to know what to do other than pat your hands awkwardly.

After talking a bit more, Shota brought up something that you knew would come up. 

“So, I know I said I didn’t really care about the situation with Intak, but… I still think you need to tell him. Before you tell the other guys.” You nodded, agreeing with him. 

You wiped the remnants of tears at the corners of your eyes and pulled out your phone immediately to text Intak. “Wait, don’t tell him over text! That’s so uncool, y/n,” Shota scolded, and you showed him the text that you had just sent him, asking him if you could meet at a coffee shop to talk some things over. 

You rolled your eyes at him. “C’mon Shota, you know me better than that,” you said, and he shrugged. “Sorry, just had to make sure.” 

The next moment, Jongseob came through the door, having just gotten out of a late weekday class. This wasn’t one of the normal days he would have come over, but since it was the day you had wanted to talk to Shota, he’d made it work. 

“Hey guys,” he said with a strained smile. “Hey,” Shota responded. “Hi,” you said, elated to see him but feeling the tension in the room suck out all the air. You cleared your throat. “I’m gonna…”

“Sure, okay,” Shota responded knowingly as you made eye contact with Jongseob, gave him a reassuring smile, and headed to your room to give them some privacy to talk. About half an hour later, you heard a knock on your door, and you answered it to find Shota on the other side. “C’mon,” he said, nodding his head in the direction of the common area. You complied and walked out to find Jongseob on the couch, staring at his phone while the TV played some video that Shota was forcing him (and soon to be both of you) to watch. 

You looked at Shota, and he gestured towards the couch. “Oh my god y/n just sit down and chill.” You looked at him, confused. “Wait, so that’s it?” 

He plopped down on the couch and grabbed a handful of Doritos, shoving most of them into his mouth. “Unless y’all have any more secrets, yeah, we’re good. Just don’t be weird. Hold hands, do whatever you need to do, I’ll get used to it.” 

You sat down on the couch next to Jongseob and he gave you a sweet smile, melting any remaining anxiety that you had. He pecked your cheek lightly and took your hand in his, as Shota proceeded to show both of you his latest YouTube fixation.

As the evening continued, you couldn’t help thinking about what Shota had said, and taking his words to heart. Every time you looked at Jongseob, you felt a renewed sense of protectiveness towards him, the love nearly pouring out of you. It took so much self-control not to say it. You knew you couldn’t tell him now, so soon. Your confession would have to wait. 

But it didn’t make it any less real.

Chapter 14: Clearing the Air

Later that night as you cuddled in bed next to Jongseob (who had decided to stay the night, even though it was a weeknight), your phone lit up on the nightstand, and you reached over him to grab it. 

tak: hey, y/n, thanks for reaching out, i hope you’ve been doing good. i’m down to meet up and talk, just let me know when and where

y/n: great, i really appreciate it, and likewise. how about this Saturday at 10am? that coffee shop we used to go to? 

y/n: or wait, is that weird :/

y/n: shit, nevermind, you choose

tak: lol it’s all good, that coffee shop is fine. see you then

y/n: ok!!

You sighed and put your phone back on the nightstand. “Everything okay?” Jongseob asked in the dark, rubbing your side. 

“Yeah, just made plans to meet up with Intak Saturday morning and talk.”

“Mmm,” he responded and kissed your shoulder. “Are you nervous?”

“Nah, I think it’ll go fine. Just something that I need to get over with, I guess.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

A long silence ensued, and something flickered across your mind.

“You don’t feel weird about this, right?” you asked.

“About what?”

“Oh, you know what. About me going to get coffee with Intak and tell him about us. That doesn’t make you uncomfortable, right?”

“No!” he said a little too loudly and you smiled. “Just… don’t go falling for him again, or whatever,” he muttered, and you burst out laughing. 

“When I have you to come back home to? Not a chance,” you replied, kissing his cheek over and over again.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey, y/n,” Intak said in a friendly tone as he approached your table. “Hi Intak,” you said with a nervous smile as you stood up and hugged him. He looked good, like he always did, but you were relieved that he seemed happy, nearly glowing. What a relief , you thought.

Once you'd both ordered and sat back down again, you took a deep breath and began.

“Okay, first of all, I wanted to apologize for…” you looked down and chewed the inside of your lip, thinking of how best to phrase what you wanted to say. “For, I guess, just not being very emotionally honest when we were together. I think I knew, deep down, that things between us wouldn’t last – nothing to do with you, just a gut feeling – and, I guess I didn’t really know what I was doing with you, or why.”

He raised his eyebrows, brown puppy-dog eyes widening in understanding, as he nodded, encouraging you to continue. “Nothing about it was your fault, though. You have to know that. You’re attractive and sweet and attentive and you absolutely deserve someone who will fully appreciate you. But anyway, I’m sorry for how things ended up, the last thing I wanted was for you to get hurt.”

Intak smiled sweetly and nodded again, his eyes full of compassion and empathy. “Hey, it’s really okay. I’m doing fine. Nothing to apologize for.”

You let out a huge sigh of relief and smiled back, bowing your head slightly and taking a sip of your drink. “There was… another thing I wanted to talk to you about today,” you began tentatively.

He sipped his drink casually. “Okay? Sure, what’s up?” he responded, looking curious.

“I’m, uh… I’m dating Jongseob.”

His expression didn’t change. Shit, he’s mad, you thought immediately. He looked to the left, then the right, then back at you. “Yeah. Okay? And?”

You blinked at him a couple times. “Um. Okay wait, what do you mean?”

He stared back at you, confused. “I mean, I guess I just don’t understand what you wanted to talk about. Are you guys doing okay? Is something wrong? Like, do you need anything?”

This got more confusing by the second, and you took a deep breath. “I wanted to let you know because of how recently we broke up. And, you know, he’s someone that you know. I just wanted to be open and honest with you about it, and let you know before the others found out. Because… I know how it looks, and I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

He furrowed his brows together and smiled. “Y/n… I honestly assumed you would get together with him the moment I dumped you. Felt like I was doing you a service, actually, by breaking things off… so you could finally be with him. I figured you didn’t have the guts, or something, to tell me.”

Your face went hot and that last comment offended you, but he quickly added, “I know, I wasn’t really giving you the benefit of the doubt. It’s just, I saw the way you looked at him, and the way he always stared at you, and it was just… so obvious? To me, at least. And to Theo. Especially after the hospital. If I’m honest, I felt like boyfriend number two in that situation. Not that you shouldn’t have people who care about you and want to take care of you, but damn, he kinda made me look bad. Not that I can fault him, but still.”

He laughed and ran a hand through his hair, leaning back in his chair a little. Your stomach churned at the thought of him and Theo talking about you like that but you knew you couldn’t fault them. It’s not like they’d technically been wrong, but it still made you feel so stupid.

“I also want to make it clear that I didn’t necessarily think you were cheating or anything, but I could just tell your heart wasn’t really with me, and it got too difficult to deal with,” he added, face taking on a more serious expression.

Your chest panged with guilt. “Yeah, that makes sense. That’s totally fair. I’m really sorry.”

“Hey, it’s all good. Obviously I was disappointed but I’m not going to try to force something that isn’t meant to be. You’re a really cool person and I’m glad you’ve uh, finally figured out who your person is,” he added with a chuckle. “I have a tendency to get a little involved when I start dating someone so, even though we had agreed that things needed to stay casual, I think I just got too invested and that’s on me. Not your fault, it’s just the way things happened.” You nodded, a smile of relief tugging at your lips.

After talking about something other things and catching up in general, the conversation becoming much lighter and more comfortable, a thought occurred to you, and you blurted:

“Wait, so you’re telling me that I was one of the only people who didn’t know that I liked Jongseob?”

“Seems to be that way,” he replied with a kindhearted laugh, sipping his drink. “Wait,” he added, “I even told you that I didn’t want to be second best in your world. What the hell did you think that meant, y/n?”

Your face burned up. “Honestly, I didn’t know and I was too afraid and in shock to ask, so I just let it go without a second thought. This just gets more embarrassing, huh.”

He laughed heartily as you put your elbows on the table, covered your face with your hands, and groaned. As you smiled, and finished your drink, he cleared his throat.

“So…on this topic, I should mention. I’ve actually got a date with someone tonight. So I really mean it when I say, don’t worry about me. I’m cool if you are.”

You smiled and your mouth dropped open in momentary shock, eyes wide, then you fist bumped him and he burst out laughing as he returned it. 

“That’s great. I’m happy for you,” you said, voice taking on a more serious tone.

“For us ,” he added, and you nodded, standing up from the table and giving him another hug before you parted ways amicably.

Chapter 15: Going Places

You walked through the front door of your apartment with Shota, arms aching from all the heavy plastic bags cutting into them.

“Y/n, we are a one trip household , he’d screamed at you outside the car as he piled more bags onto your wrists, his own arms flexing under the weight of the ones he was already holding. Once inside, you lowered them to the ground as carefully as possible, but you were unable to avoid the loud clank of the glass bottles as you set them down. 

It had been Shota’s idea to host a party for the end of the school year, with your usual group (which you hadn’t seen since you and Jongseob had started dating). Your household was supplying the drinks, Jiung and Theo volunteered to bring snacks, Keeho was bringing chicken, and Intak was bringing his new girlfriend. 

After you’d both set the bags down and Shota had gone to his room to change, you looked around and noticed the house looked immaculate. You turned the corner into the kitchen to find Jongseob finishing up the dishes and hugged him from behind, smiling into his back and hooking your hands around his waist. “Thanks for cleaning,” you said, voice muffled by his shirt.

“No prob. Do we need anything else before tonight?” he asked, turning off the water as he put the last dish on the drying rack.

“Nope,” you replied, releasing him so he could dry his hands, then pulling him in for a hug, rubbing his back briskly. “I’m gonna go get ready, come on.”

He held your hand as he followed you to your room and you both got ready; you changed into baggy blue jeans and a white short-sleeved button-up, while he put on a pair of black baggy cargo pants and a fitted baby tee with pink text. As soon as you saw him, your mind went blank and your hands made their way, completely outside your control, to his tiny waist. 

“ Damn, ” you whispered as he giggled and pushed your hands away; you went to the bathroom to start on your makeup, fully in a daze. He joined you about halfway through to do his hair, putting it up in little half pigtails (using some of your tiny clear hairbands), and you truly could have disintegrated at how cute he was. 

After fighting weakly and losing rapidly, he let you dab some pearly eyeshadow on his inner corners and headed out to the living room as people started to arrive.

Taeyang and Jiung arrived first, arms fully loaded with bags of snacks that they set on the counter. As you pulled out large bowls to put them in, Taeyang leaned his ass against the kitchen counter next to you, arms crossed, and looked down at you with a piercing gaze. He was so beautiful, hair even longer than last time you saw him; he looked positively vampiric, with his dark hair, pale skin, and dark pink lips. Was he wearing makeup? You wondered, but then realized he’d just asked you a question.

“Hello, Earth to y/n?” he yelled over the music, and you smiled, embarrassed. “Sorry, what?”

“So? You and blondie?”

Your smile dropped. “How did you–”

“Intak told me because he’s such a little gossip, but I just wanted to verify it with you because I’m nosy.”

You laughed, dropping your guard a bit. “Ah, I see. Well, the rumor’s true,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders. 

“Cool,” he responded, leaving to go join the others. That was it? You sighed in relief. You weren’t sure why you were expecting Taeyang to be mad, but you were just relieved he wasn’t. Or else, as far as you knew, he wasn’t.

Keeho arrived next with the chicken, which everyone started to dive into without waiting for Intak, and shortly after, Intak walked in with his girlfriend and introduced her to everyone, beginning with you. Her name was Lily, and she had dark round eyes, full lips, and beautiful dark hair; she was drop dead gorgeous, and you weren’t surprised. The two of them were a match made in heaven, a bisexual dream. 

An hour or two later, everyone was at least a few drinks in, and getting rowdier by the minute. Shota wouldn’t get out of Keeho’s lap, Jiung and Taeyang wouldn’t stop screaming at each other over Mario Kart, and you and Lily had basically become best friends. 

At the end of one of the Mario Kart matches, Shota jumped off of Keeho and started dancing, which made Jiung get up and started dance battling him, which resulted in your downstairs neighbors calling the cops because there was so much screaming that they couldn’t tell if you were hosting a party or if a mass murder was taking place.

After the cops left, Shota took off his shirt and started showing everyone the wall run that he’d perfected, adding to the footprints that already marred your white walls. You pulled out your phone and added magic erasers to your shopping list before going outside your front door with Jongseob to smoke. 

Neither of you were smokers but you sometimes couldn’t help yourself when you’d been drinking, so you always kept a pack on hand, just in case the feeling struck (like it did, now). You lit a cigarette, sucked in the acrid smoke, then leaned towards Jongseob’s face to allow him to light his from the tip of yours. Your head felt light and pleasant, and he looked so impossibly sexy, cheeks flushed from alcohol, pigtails a mess, the skin of his lower belly showing. 

After his next exhalation, you leaned in and kissed him, sloppy, needy, and slow. He leaned against the railing outside your door while you pressed into him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders passively, body feeling heavy. He giggled into the kiss, and you felt his smile against your lips, as he pulled away slightly and murmured something. 

“What?” you asked, voice barely a whisper, and he flushed more deeply, kissing you again. You pulled back again. “Baby, what did you say?” you asked again, becoming worried.

He giggled again, looking down. “I love you?” he said quietly, his tone raising at the end of the statement, almost making it sound like a question. But his face fell immediately as you stared at him blankly. “Sorry, I’m drunk, I shouldn’t–”

“I love you too,” you blurted out, eyes brimming with moisture as you kissed him again, more softly this time. You felt like your body was melting into his as he held you there, lips pressed to yours, hands dangerously low on your hips. You kissed him again, again, and again, then pulled him into a tight hug, burying your face in his chest as he kissed your head. 

You jumped as the door flung wide open and Taeyang screamed, “Oh my god, ” and made a gagging noise as he came out to join you. You separated slightly, giggling uncontrollably. He scowled at you both. “Y’all look like a coupla high schoolers. Give me one of those,” he said, holding his hand out, and you handed him a cigarette and a lighter. 

Taeyang was somehow both friendlier and sassier with the alcohol in his system, and proceeded to very casually talk with both of you in a way that he hadn’t done before. He asked you about how you’d been feeling since your injury and you were happy to report that you were finally feeling mostly like your old self again; you then used that opportunity to bitch about your shitty boss. He and Jongseob talked about finals and everything school-related. 

The conversation flowed from smalltalk to deeper topics, and soon the three of you were multiple cigarettes in, drunkenly rambling about ethical, political, and social issues. As Taeyang was on a particularly fiery rant, the door opened and out walked Intak and Lily, who jolted slightly at Theo’s volume.

“Hey guys, we’re taking off,” Intak said, bowing his head slightly and smiling at the three of you. He and Lily hugged you one by one and headed down the stairs. You glanced at your phone and realized that it was late . 

The three of you went back inside and Jiung was laying on the living room floor, eyes closed. Taeyang pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Goddammit Jiung, don’t make me carry you out of here.”

“Keeho and Shota went to go have sex or something. Everyone else abandoned me,” Jiung said, eyes still closed, his voice completely deadpan. The three of you felt bad but couldn’t help laughing as Taeyang helped him up and headed out the door to catch their ride. 

You shut the front door behind them and hopped on the couch next to Jongseob. The house was a disaster, but that would be a problem for tomorrow. You leaned on his shoulder; it had been a while since your last drink but you were still pleasantly buzzed, your throat mildly sore from the cigarettes.

Jongseob took your hand in both of his and cleared his throat. “Hey, y/n, I’m sorry about earlier, if what I said was… if it was too much. I was drunk, and not really thinking.”

Your heart sank, and you turned to face him, face crestfallen. “Wait. Did you mean it, though?”

He glanced away and nodded, looking ashamed. “Of course I did. No doubt about it. But, I just don’t want you to feel obligated to say it back,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding eye contact with you.

You guided his face towards you gently, forcing him to look into your eyes, his own eyes looking vulnerable and nervous.

 “I love you, Seob, so much. And I would never say that if I didn’t mean it. Do you understand?”

He smiled wide and nodded, leaning into your hand on his cheek as you brushed your thumb against his face affectionately. 

“Okay,” he said quietly, and you pulled him in for a gentle kiss, feeling more excited for your future than you’d ever been before.

[vagabond-umlaut]

it's easy to ferry souls, not carry them

deep down in the realm of the netherworlds, there exists a rower who transports deceased souls from the land of living to the land of dead-

and occasionally lends an ear and a hand, in the event of yet another collision between their weary queen and her just as cheery suitor...

[uraume deserves a raise.]

▸gojo satoru x fem!reader; the tale of kore!gojo & hades!reader w a guest appearance by charon!uraume; uraume is a very nice parental figure to you [ooc!uraume but ehh]; the reader is honestly so sweet and hot-tempered...; the cutest doggy cerberus too is there!!!!; gojo satoru must be his own warning...; uraume does not like gojo [no parent [blood-related or not] actually wld]; fire hazards; 2k wc

▸ i've nvr read percy jackson and wtv i wrote here is based on my shaky knowledge of greek myths and stuff 😁😁 anyways, this header's from pinterest, these dividers are by @benkeibear and the characters used ain't mine. pls do not plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

▸ belongs to series 'wreaths of asphodel' – same universe as the work 'hey, where is the pomegranate tree?' — but you can treat this as a stand-alone fic if you wanna!

"why is kore so set on marrying me, uraume?"

it isn't the ask itself which causes the rower to nearly lose grip of their oar– but the way it is spoken: soft, solemn and faintly tense. they look away from the endless expanse of the styx before, to find you staring at your reflection in the inky waters, features unnaturally crumpled.

uraume holds back a frown. "has her majesty considered asking the god the same?"

"i have asked him," you mumble, "but i did not receive any conclusive answer in return. the imp was being too vague– must be a trait learnt from those shifty nymphs always sticking to his side."

if your faithful follower detects anything except dislike in your words, they make no mention of it. merely humming as they continue to row the boat, "and may this servant know the question her majesty asked the god?"

"two," you mumble even more clumsily now; they take a beat to grasp it, too concerned by the way you drape yourself over the edge, nearly falling into the water as you say, "i asked him two questions— one, if he loves me; two, if he wants to have children should we get married."

shock must not be uraume's first reaction to these queries, yet it is— and for a moment, it isn't you sitting there anymore.

instead, it is a little girl, no older than seven or eight years, cherubic face fixed in a look of deep concentration and fascination while the rower narrates to her stories from times millennia ago–

only for the child to morph into a young lady– no, goddess– the very next beat... slouched under a regal cloak too heavy for her shoulders, under a royal crown too large for her head... that sweet innocence of childhood nothing but traces now, having been withered by the foul, dirty politics of those damned deities high up on that mountain—

"what answers did the olympian offer her majesty?"

"he said he would love me and sire my children if that is what i want— i asked if he wished anything out of our union— he said all he wanted is to be my husband–"

something between a frustrated sigh and an exhausted scoff erupts from you, becoming an opaque fog the moment it hits the frigid air of the underworld. uraume plucks the oar out the water to come sit next to you, letting the boat be driven by magic.

"you're worried," they state, forgoing all formalities in favour of giving you some much-needed comfort. you never much cared for stations anyways, quite unlike your elder brother, the former king.

"an unfamiliar friend poses more risk than a familiar enemy, uraume," you mutter, resting your head on their shoulder, "why do you think kore wishes to marry me so much, if not out of love or the prospect of the powerful offsprings we might beget?"

"marriage is not solely for love or for procreation," the rower starts to explain, mildly amused before it grows into sympathy at your baffled expression.

ah, they muse fondly, not unlike a parent watching their child witness the world seemingly the first time ever since they learnt to walk, you who presides over something as profound as death yet knows not of the trivialities of life...

"it can also be for many other reasons like–"

the remainder of the words skitter away from uraume— cerberus is playing with gojo.

the fierce guard of the netherworlds, the three-headed hound, loyal and dutiful to a fault: hades' dearest canine companion is frolicking with the god of life in a green meadow, that most certainly was not there so close to the stygian marsh, when they last—

"gojo is laughing," your remark draws them away from their musings, only to find a changed shadow over your countenance— pensive yet not thinking at all; almost as if you too are floating in the stale air of your kingdom akin the soft flower petals...

another ring of raucous laughter pierces the silence, mingled with a delighted series of barks— cerberus is busy licking gojo's face now, the olympian reduced to a puddle of giggles as he scratches behind the dog's ears.

his happiness so clear in the stretch of his grin and the crinkle of his eyes, very much the jarring contrast to the last time—

oh. oh, oh, oh–

"escape," the word leaves uraume in a sudden moment of realisation, as quiet as a breath but loud enough for you to whip your head back to face them, confusion engraved into your scowl. "escape?? what is that supposed to mean, eh?"

the rower feels their lips lift into an infrequent smile. "the god of life wishes to marry you to escape— from his mother, or from his many suitors, or perhaps from mount olympus itself."

"wha– how– hah," you breathe out a disbelieving little huff, "that is simply ridiculous. have you even heard yourself? that is ridiculous."

used to such resistance from yourself, even more from your brother, they move to state their points, only to beaten by you as you persist to speak.

"no one in their right mind will decide to come live in the underworld, no matter how overbearing their mother or insistent their suitors are. have you seen this place? it's too, too unlike the lushness of the earth or the grandeur of the heavens he has experienced. and–" you add, a harsh laugh accompanying it. "gojo satoru is a god. a fish might leave the water— but a god never steps a voluntary foot down that horrible mountain. never."

"but the olympian never truly lived on mount olympus," uraume says once they're sure you've completed your tirade, "and you are a goddess as well. why do you speak so ill of the heavens then?"

"why?" you echo the word. they nod, hoping you take the bait they've intended for you. you do.

"why, because that place is nothing but a shining apple with a rotten core!! everything is polished marble and glittering gold there. people constantly wave at each other, lavishing smiles and praises like there is no tomorrow. everything is so warm and bright— what a bunch of lies and liars!"

familiar fire burns in your aura, the immense heat making the waters erupt into boiling— uraume uses their powers to cool the river down, lest anything disturbs you.

you're too far gone in your rage to be shaken, however, continuing:

"but it never can hide the grime and dirt accrued beneath such shine and sheen. nor the vicious minds and crooked hearts of those deities up above– what lame excuses of gods and goddesses, hah. and you might think me to prefer the light and warmth up there— you will be sorely wrong, my dear uraume!! i much prefer the genuine darkness and frigidity of my beloved kingdom to the faux comfort of the awful mount olympus—"

"is there no possibility the god of life too despises mount olympus for these same reasons, milady?"

you open your mouth and close it, then open it again to let out a very aggrieved whine– momentarily transporting uraume to your younger days. the rower merely chuckles when you punch their arm lightly.

"you're the worst, uraume," you cry, getting up and moving to sit on the other end of the boat. the rower too rises but only to resume rowing the boat by the oar.

"you never spoke this way when sukuna was the ruler— only because his baby sister is the ruler now, and you think she is very stupid—"

"as much as i respect and revere lord sukuna, he wasn't one to listen to anyone else," uraume interrupts gently, "you do, though– which is why i spent so much time telling you this. i hope you did not mind."

"hey, no," you immediately wave away their concern with a wide grin, eliciting a smaller one from the latter, "i could never..."

another peal of laughter and barks rings through the otherwise-quiet. you abruptly trail off, the same conflicting expression from before on your face yet again. though not without a spark in your eyes, uraume notes, almost as if you're slowly learning how to solve the puzzle who is repeatedly offering himself to you.

uraume keeps the silence you initiate, choosing to row the boat while you keep staring at the assortment of hues near the stygian marsh...

until you call their name and declare, an odd firmness in your smile, "well then, it is decided. i shall allow gojo to stay here for as long as the god so wishes to, escaping whatever or whoever he is escaping. and i shall protect him from the latter, should it ever come for him."

a beat. your smile falls into something graver. "would it be better if i swore by the dread water of styx, uraume?"

"uh, um," the rower finds themselves at a loss of words, the first time in seemingly forever, and they have been around since titanomachy– but before they can recover themselves enough to formulate a proper reply, a giggly voice joins in—

"well, if my rose does that, i would consider myself the most blessed amongst all mortals and immortals!"

— and the waters surrounding the boat shoot upwards in a scathing geyser-like jet and steam— the ferocious queen of the netherworlds visibly torn between remorse and terror, as they offer uraume a stiff nod and gojo a horrified look, before vanishing in a wisp of fog.

the boiling waters of the river styx calm down only after a twenty-minute-long struggle by uraume, joined at the very end by gojo.

the latter looks positively delighted, when the former collapses to the bottom of the boat, exhausted beyond belief. "hey, charon. was that a result of your queen getting flustered by me, huh?"

yes, it was. it very much was, the sentences nearly slip past the tired rower's crumbling defences... until it hits them– who they serve, and who they don't.

uraume decides to throw back a glare and a lie. "her majesty was not flustered, lord kore. she was enraged at how you invaded the privacy of her weekly boat ride, intended to make her relax."

"oh, puh-lease," the god makes a face. the rower is certain he would have been punished in the pits of tartarus for all eternity, then some more were he to pursue you this way during your brother's reign, let alone disrespect you thus.

ignorant and insolent, he continues, "in few days time, i'll be allowed into the privacy of her living quarters; what is the privacy of her boat th—"

"you're lucky you did not make such outrageous remarks in front of the queen," uraume cuts him off, none too kindly nor gently, "if you did, her majesty would have certainly burnt you along with the boat to a crisp–"

"i know," comes the defeated reply within the instant. and while gojo is still not in uraume's good graces, the latter decides to notch him a level higher, considering the god of life accepts their queen's powers.

not many do.

he strikes a pathetically pitiful figure, uraume reckons, seeing him sit then slouch on the bench. "was she serious when she said she would protect me?"

your loyal subject nods, certain and solemn. "yes, she was. the queen is never careless when it comes to making promises."

"oh, that's reassuring," gojo says quietly— only to recline even further in the very next beat– an anguished, grating wail tearing from him to the stifling silence looming near the stygian marsh. uraume wonders if it is worth it to steer the boat towards acheron... then push him into its waters of woe...

they decide against it on catching the desperation worn by the god.

for all it is, it might nothing more than a ploy. yet something tugs at their mind to pause and listen when gojo howls, "why does my rose always scurry away after tilting my world on its axis? why does your queen always torment me like this, charon?"

uraume stares pensively at their face in the sacred waters of styx for a while. then heaves a mighty sigh.

certain, this exchange between the goddess of the dead and the god of life will impact not only your and gojo's respective worlds— but the general world and everyone else in it, as well.

did you know, in the actual greek myths, persephone was never called so before her marriage to hades? she got it only after, w the name meaning "bringer of death". her initial name was kore, referring to her being a maiden & the spring goddess.

the river styx was called the "dread river of oath" by homer– in both the iliad and the odyssey [greek epic poems], swearing by its waters is the "greatest and most dread oath for the blessed gods" -> this shows how serious the reader is towards ensuring gojo's safety and freedom, and how deeply this affects gojo as well [source: wiki 😇]

also: the reader is totally ready to jump into the water to swim away when she realises gojo was listening in on her conversations- but then she remembers she can js vanish away and so she does js tht— the queen of the underworld, and of escaping, hehe

also also: the reader is slightly jealous when she is talking of the shifty nymphs always sticking to gojo's side. [uraume identifies it; you think it is js your usual dislike to such frivolous things and ppl as flowers and nymphs etc.] [hades is emo imho 😊]

▸ masterlist

[swift-creates]

category: Gen

fandom: Batfamily

characters and relationships: Dick Grayson and Jason Todd - platonic, some batfamily

warnings: blood and injury, fight scene, mention of gun and knives, minor swearing, a bit of unhealthy thought processes but mostly bc he’s dazed and out of it, present tense

Summary:

@ailesswhumptober Day 31: Panic attack, facing a phobia, “You need to get out of here!”

Jason is injured during a battle, but Dick can’t protect him forever.

notes: fucked around and wrote a fic based on this drawing by @ashrayus as one does (I didn’t really know how to end it so just. have this lol) (also sorry if it’s OOC)

—

Dick has always been scared for Jason. That’s his baby brother, his Little Wing, the shadow at his back. Save for the broken time where he’d abruptly become an only child, Jason has always been there, and Dick has come to expect he always will be. Jason is older now — he’s the Red Hood, Gotham’s most feared crime lord, and is capable of single-handedly taking down some of the worst rogues in the gallery — but he will always be Dick’s little brother. Dick rarely has reason to be scared for Jason these days. 

Except for the times when he watches Jason stumble and finally fall to seemingly endless hordes of enemies, bleeding from a bullet to the gut. 

“JASON!” All strategy and codenames get thrown out the window, and he fights his way to his little brother, throwing a smoke bomb for cover and pulling him to safety. “Jay, look at me.”

“Ngh… Don’t need you to save me, Big Bird.” Jason tries to glare at him, but the effect is somewhat dampened by the way he doubles over in pain and leans into Dick’s arms. “Y-You need to get out of here.”

“Yes you do, and I’m not leaving you behind, dipshit.” He half-supports, half-carries Jason out of the alley, ignoring the strangled sound of pain he makes (or attempting to, anyway). He leaves the fight behind, and keeps going until the distance is between them is enough for him to feel comfortable setting Jason down against a wall. 

Jason’s black-and-white curls stand in stark contrast to the grimy grey-red as he grimaces, head tipped back against the brick. Dick smooths them back from his face more by habit than anything else. “Shhh. You’ll be okay, Little Wing.”

He knows it’s bad because Jason doesn’t object to the nickname. 

“Jay?” His brother’s eyes are fluttering closed, and he’s slumped against the wall, the hand held over his wound starting to loosen. Dick clamps one of his own in place of it, swearing. “Jay, if you die again without paying back the ten bucks you owe me I’ll resurrect you just to kill you myself.”

“Mmh…” is the only reply, and Dick can feel him slipping away — not again not again not again God please — despite every attempt to rouse him. Making this situation even worse is the slowly increasing volume of the mob catching up to them. He grabs a roll of gauze from his belt and quickly wraps Jason’s torso with it, then stands with both escrima sticks in his hands. 

There’s blood leaking from a cut on his cheek, and he’s pretty sure his nose is broken, but he’ll die before he lets them hurt Jason again. 

They come on in a rush, almost falling over each other in their attempt to reach two weakened vigilantes. He sweeps one aside, slams another into a wall, hits the first one with a stick and lets him fall to the ground, unconscious. The movements become instinct, strategy turning to survival, as they flood the alley, reaching to him, past him, their guns and their knives all hungry for blood. He barely dodges one bullet, feels another graze his thigh when he turns to swipe at a girl with white-blonde hair and a switchblade in her hand. He can’t go on like this forever. He has to. 

He’s reeling from a hit to the side of his head, about to lose his balance, when white smoke rises around them. Dick almost collapses to his knees in relief, but he makes himself stumble back to stand over Jason as familiar figures drop from the shadows and create a circle of safety in the chaos. 

“He’s here,” he whispers to Jason. “You’re safe now.” He curls up next to his brother, exhausted and bleeding, and pulls him close. 

Of course, that’s when a man with a gun decides to level it straight at Dick’s forehead. 

He grips Jason tight and glares at the guy, one stick left in his hand, trying to remember where he’d dropped the other one sometime during the fight. When, not if, the guy shoots, he’ll twist to shield Jason with his body, just in case his aim is wildly off. One bullet each seems to be fair. 

His finger tightens on the trigger, and Dick tenses, ready to move. 

Then a black shape slams into the man, sending the bullet careening into the darkness and the guy careening into the ground. Few have seen the Batman’s fury unleashed, and even fewer experienced it, but this unlucky sap will most likely remember this for the rest of his miserable life. He’s tossed to the side like a rag, and B makes a beeline for his boys. 

“Dick. Jason.” His hands search for injuries even as his eyes flick anxiously up and down them, the only outward sign of his worry. 

Dick melts gratefully into the embrace. “We’re okay. Barely.” All he wants to do is sink to the ground and be cuddled and carried back to the Batcave, but he can’t rest yet. “Jason — he got hurt. Bullet wound. I bandaged it, but…” 

“We’ll get him home.” Bruce kneels by Jason’s side, gently calling his name, but there’s no response. So what does Bruce do? Obviously he goes and scoops up all two hundred pounds of Jason into his arms and carries him away to the Batmobile like he weighs no more than Damian. Cass appears out of nowhere to support Dick, and he leans against his sister with a grateful smile. 

[annawayne]

Hi Anna!! I hope you're having a wonderful day!!! And that you have been well 🩷 I wanted to ask you about what your favorite AOT alternate universe is! And if you were to make your own, how would you write it? Sending you hugs!!

Oh, Stella, hello-hello!

Thank you so much for asking, and I had so much fun while answering and thinking about it, so I might accidentally wrote an outline for a fic...

You know, I really love canon-compliant and canon-divergent scenarios, but I have a very weak spot against the historical AUs or mythology AUs. In general, I really love AUs which take canon and transform into AU, without changing the main topic/character arcs too much, but adapting it into the new scneario. And I really love Medieval AU, Ancient Greece AU, 1900-1920's AU, but now, I want to stop on another AU which was sitting in my head for a while, and with your ask, I gave it more thought and structured all these ideas into something more proper, so here I present you -

Here, I want to make a quick disclaimer that I took as a base the whole period as a whole and in my AU, there's the fictional geography which is based on original AoT, but some events are inspired by real historical events and the whole vibe of the epoch. Plus, I focused on some general points of this plot without too much details and it's written more like the outline, rather than some fic (so sorry if it's not very good...)

Far away from home she never saw, Annie is raised by the man who is in slavery, among others people from the conquered lands - but there, in complete secret, they raise their children as Warriors - someone to give revenge for the King bloodline, who sent them there and who conquered their lands.

They worked from a very young age on the fields, and at night - they train, they are raised to be weapons and with the solo goal - to buy themselves freedom and then, to use for the killing. So when times comes, Bertholdt, Reiner and Annie are sent to Paradis Kingdom.

They know that the King is quite not sane - by age and illness he gained by various sexual connections, and he has three children: the oldest son, Erwin, twins Historia Armin, the youngest son. Erwin is an heir, a talented warrior and promised leader; meanwhile, Armin is much younger and not so strong, but his intelligence, bravery and the desire for knowledge is enormous. However, their father didn't really favor Armin, and always neglects him, sending him to battlefields, which are already meant to be lost. Erwin, on the contrary, recognizes Armin's talent and they are close; he, as an older brother, teaches him a lot and they like spending time together. Historia and Armin are close too, not only as twins but as allies: Historia isn't really loved by their father as she's a daughter and can't heir the throne, and by gossips. she has love affairs with one of her guardians, Ymir, which is also not approved by their father - but Armin always supports his sister and her lover, trying his best to cover Historia's missing for nights.

Annie, Reiner and Bert, when they arrive to Paradis Kingdom, they join the Warriors who didn't belong to any village, gathered only by desire of fight and war, the legendary order of Viking mercenaries. There, they meet Zeke, Pieck, Porco, Marcel, and many other people, who was informed of their arrival, and so starts the years of the battlefields. Endless, endless battlefields, full of blood to prepare themselves for the King killing.

Until one day they learn the news from their spies: Erwin, the heir, should be on the battlefield not so far away from their location, and they decide to capture him to manipulate the King, that will eventually lead to his death, but... Instead of Erwin, they find Armin and his army. Armin at the age of 17 is already an excellent strategist, however, his subordinates mocked him for being too merciful, kind and coming up with strategies that save lives, so commanders didn't obey his orders that led to almost his own capture. Annie, Reiner and Bert and their order used this situation, and they helped Armin to win, but... They caught him as a hostage. Not Erwin, but Armin is still an heir.

Firstly, there was an obvious tension, but Annie couldn't miss that Armin was different from what she imagined him to be, how... Royal should be. He is kind, smart, very attentive, and yet, he is manipulative and he never choose to opt to violence, only as a last resort when he could save someone important to him or when he realizes that there's no other choice. It's strange, Annie thinks, and she doesn't understand him. He is the first person in this cruel world who is so unconditionally kind - and yet, not without venom in him, and she couldn't just wrap up her mind how to understand him. She always thought she was nice at reading people. But with Armin, she realizes that she never was.

After some time, Armin and Annie start to speak with each other, and Annie hates that she starts craving these conversations. She hats that this boy should paint his hand - beautiful hand, maybe, more suitable for some crafter or painter - with blood. So when she hears Armin speaks with Marcel that he wants to train to become stronger and more capable in fight, Annie bursts in anger. At this moment, she was practicing with her daggers, and so she throws one of the daggers to the tree trunk, just a few inches away from Armin's face, cutting a few strands from his locks. She hopes it would scare him. She hops he would just step away and refuses to train to become a Viking. To become a Warrior.

She hopes.

But Armin looks directly at her, with his hazel eyes, so deep, like the autumn foliage in the sunset, and the determination in his gaze chokes her with the tight grip.

"Teach me.".

"Me? To teach you?" Annie snorts, trying her best to stay indifferent. "You're helpless. Don't even try."

"I know I am now," Armin nods, taking a step to her. "But with your help, I can become stronger."

"And? What benefit is it for me?"

"I'll teach you reading and writing. And I can also pay you. For you being my guard. When we come back to the capital, I can make you my guardian."

Annie looks at him, and she couldn't fight against his gaze. It's beneficial for her mission, isn't it? It is. And so-

She agrees.

Their training starts, they stay together, since she's now his guardian and his teacher. Armin struggles at first,, failing and failing miserable, but after every fall, he gets up with no complaints, the same determined fire in his irises, and... In one year, he really becomes stronger.

And they become closer. Annie learns about his twin-sister, how close they are, about Erwin, about their crazy father, about all the intrigues and horrors happening in the royal court. She learns that Armin loves to read, that his dreams - not to conquer lands but to see them, experience every single land with respect and admiration, that he never really wanted to be a King. She learns that he knows how to braid hair exactly thanks to Historia: she did it to him, and he did it for her, and now, he does it to Annie's hair too. She learns so many things about him, and she learns another thing, that braided hair by his hands looks so beautiful on her. So beautiful and she doesn't deserve this beauty.

One day, Armin cuts his hair, and Annie suddenly realizes that he grew up. And so she is, too.

And so grew up something in her heart she didn't know a name.

Reiner, Bert and other Warrior pressure her that she started losing her head and betraying them, but she always fight back., defending herself and always dismissing their accusations.

Until, one day, both she and Armin train on the cliff, the sea shimmers at the horizon with molten gold, and just at the very end, their bodies suddenly pressed so closed, caught between the daggers and their battle stances. Eye to eye, torso to torso, their jagged breathes wash each other with warm waves.

"Don't be so cocky," Annie says, her dagger stops inches away from his neck, . "If you think that you can win easily in the battlefield, someone will kill you faster that you can even imagine."

"I wouldn't be so sure," he whispers, and it sent shivers down her spine.

Confusion furrows her brows, and Armin nods down, somewhere to her abdomen. When she looks down, she sees Armin's dagger pointed right into her gut.

Something coils right in her abdomen - impression, surprise, pride and something else. Something she is afraid to name our loud.

"Not so bad for a dead man," Annie whispers, and instead, with the effortless maneuver of her hands, perfected by years and years of war, she flips him.

Armin falls on his back, right into the long grass, but instead of groaning or insults, he smiles, starting laughing.

"You're honestly amazing," he says and looks at her with so much joy and tenderness, and it just makes her blush intensely.

That day she realizes that she can't run away any more from her true feelings. She realizes that she really loves him. And it terrifies, and excites her at the same time.

Weeks later, their hands touch for the first time longer than a sudden brush, and decided to stay for a few minutes longer interwined. Months later, their first kiss happens. A few more - their first intimacy.

But time goes on, they're closer to the capital. And once they arrive in the capital, the King is not really happy to see Armin having his own subordinates. He feels that he's not safe anymore - and he plans to kill Armin after the celebration of his return.

Warriors plan to kill the King, some high-ranked vassals and King's advisors plan to kill Erwin because they see that Armin his more powerful army with him now, and King also has his own plans - none of the sides know what the other plan, so during the celebration, the total mess happens. Both the King and Erwin are killed: King when everything happens, he orders to kill Armin right away, and Annie protects him by killing the King; and Erwin - is killed by Zeke.

Armin becomes a King.

But since Annie killed the former King, she should be now executed, and it's Armin who should ordering since she killed the King in front of his vassals and subordinates. If he wouldn't do it - they wouldn't recognize him. She understands that she failed. She put her feelings first, and now, when she sees Armin in blood and with bloody crown, his eyes so terrified and so... Broken, she sees his heart broken in his gaze when she realizes that she was lying all this time, she just realized that she failed something that was more important than her mission.

She succeeded in her mission.

But she failed him.

"Since when... You... Started to look at me with these eyes, Armin?"

She mumbles, as the hands of soldiers dragged her away. Armin is devastated, but to save her life, he orders to sell her to slavery - he couldn't leave her with him, and he couldn't execute her either. He asks only for one condition - to find a farm where she can work with not so grave conditions.

Then, 4 years pass.

Armin was immediately dragged into wars and he won them, by his excellent mind and strategies. But all this time he was utterly depressed and totally alone, the weight of the crown and responsibility killing him bit by bit, and all this time he was searching for Annie - when he asked the farm of the slaves where he ordered to sell her, his vassals lied to him and told him that she died, not wanting to see her near the new King. Armin was devastated, but searched for her for 4 years, not leaving this hope that she was alive.

Until one day, they met again, on the random market place, when Armin was with his guardian Connie, eating a pie.

And so she was. Alive. And so beautiful, even with the stuffed cheeks and startled gaze, but for him, she was the most beautiful and strong woman he ever met.

And so... The new story begins. But, this is completely another story :D

[centralperkspoison]

I Can See You - G. Way

PAIRING: Gerard Way x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: sexual references, a little fluffy.

SUMMARY: You and Gerard have known each other for years. When you finally confess to him, everything works out! But how do you keep it as a secret? (Based loosely on I Can See You by Taylor Swift)

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

OTHERS: me posting? whattttt?! this was highly inspired by the song I Can See You by Taylor Swift, so I recommend listening to that while you read. Also, I haven't posted a fic in like a year this is crazy. also!!! not my usual work, not that much fluff just more back story. idk i have wrote in a while so im sorry!

---

YOU KEPT EVERYTHING PROFESSIONAL. You and him only showed your true emotions behind closed doors. You'd brush past each other in the hallways most of the time ensuring to not let anyone catch on.

Of course, you and Gerard were friends to the public eye. You and him were the two lead singers of My Chemical Romance, but what happened behind closed doors stayed there.

You'd moved next door to the Way family when you were fairly young, quickly becoming friends with the two brothers despite the slight age differences; Mikey was three years older than you and Gerard was six years older, which is why in the beginning everything had to be quiet. But of course, you had kept your feelings for the nerdy older brother hidden since you were six, so that wouldn't be too hard.

When the band began recording for Bullets you had just turned eighteen and Gerard was almost twenty-five, which is when it first started.

-

"Why don't I understand basic song structure," You groaned. "You clearly have it down."

Gerard scoffed, "I do not have it down whatsoever, I just actually ask for input unlike someone who's stubborn as hell." He laughed. 

It was only the two of you on the bus, the rest of the guys were inside a restaurant buying breakfast while before you traveled four hours to only record half the album for Bullets.

"Here, bring it over so I can look at it." He said, sitting up on the couch on the bus. You slowly walked towards him, hoping he wouldn't realize who it was about. You silently hoped he couldn't tell, then sat next to him and handed him the lyrics you had written so far. He began analyzing them and handed them back to you.

"It's good, but the bridge should have more meaning. You've described this person in such a beautiful light, then the bridge is just happily ever after? Include some of the struggle in the relationship." You nod, beginning to write. He watches you closely from over your shoulder causing you to face the other way and lay down on him so he could get a better view. This was nothing unusual for you two, it was normal for you to lay on him or anyone else in the band.

You took his words into consideration, then started writing lyrics along the lines of 'If only he knew,' and 'I could see you being my addiction, you could see me as a secret mission.' along with some more context.

"Hey, (Y/N)?" He called, you could feel his heart speed up from your spot on his chest. "Yes, Gee?" You say, looking up at him. "Who is this about?" He asked quietly, playing with your long hair. You dropped your pencil and sat up, facing him. "Is that really important right now?" "I mean not really, I'm just a bit curious." He says with a slight smirk across his face. You just shrug and walk to where you were sitting previously to the whole song structure conversation. Once you sit down, he began speaking again.

"I mean of course the description sounds a little similar, short black hair, hazel eyes, crooked smile," He says, walking behind your chair and gripping it and looking down at you from over the back of the tall chair. "I would say Frank, but his hair doesn't exactly fall under that category anymore, and when you think about it, I'm the only one with short black hair now." He smirks. He already knew, but he was just trying to play around and have a little fun before he had to make his own scary confession.

"God, okay Gerard, the song is about you." You roll your eyes trying to make it come out as if you're not afraid to say it. "Wait, you're actually admitting it?" "Yes, I have a big fat crush on you, now can you please just turn me down already so I can get over it sooner." You sigh, and he walks around your chair so you two are facing each other now. 

"(Y/N), I'm not rejecting you," He smiles. "C'mere." He says, opening his arms for a hug, and you quickly throw yourself in his arms. You two linger in the hug for a while before you take a step back and look up at him. You two were so close your noses were touching. 

"May I?" He asks, moving his hand up so he's cupping your jaw. You lean into his touch and nod.

-

After you two established your feelings, your situationship turned into a relationship that ranged from sweet moments to insanely sexual ones, not that you had a problem with that, of course. It was just difficult keeping it from your best friends.

Eventually, fans began sniffing the two of you out. How you would always sit next to each other in interviews, when you were on stage you would always seem as if you were singing to him and he was singing to you, when they watched Life On The Murder Scene every time there was a video on the bus you'd have your legs sprawled out on top of his or you'd be laying on him, and even away from the bus he'd always send you looks.

You started seeing the fans reactions on Twitter in the two of your comment sections.

(Y/N)(Y/L/N): Day off with my boys! &lt;3

mcrlover616: OMG R U AND GERARD DATING

frerard4li4e: Gerard belongs to Frank, girl. Back off.

bugmomma24356: You and Gerard are so cute ug! &lt;3

After trying to cover up everything to the best of your abilities, nothing made them believe you, even your own band mates started thinking the two of you were together, so you two had to act more distant. 

No more laying on him, no more lingering hugs, and definitely no more making out on stage just to "make the crowd go wild". 

-

The two of you had to be entirely secret for almost a year now, and it was the first night of your new tour, Rise Against the Black Parade. 

Gerard brushes his shoulder against yours in the hallway while you two walk into the dressing room, shooting you a look. "Oh sorry, (Y/N)." He says quietly and slides his arm across your back before sitting two seats away from you in the dressing room. 

Makeup took a while, but you and Gerard were the last to finish. Once your artists left the room he sprung up to lock the door, and quickly met you in the middle of the room. 

He rested his hands on your hips and you hand your arms on the back of his neck, while he pressed his lips to yours aggressively. You parted from him for a moment, "Now don't go messing up our makeup," You smirked. "We can fix it ourselves." He grunts, picking you up and placing you on the counter.

The two of you were in there for a total of five minutes before someone started knocking on the dressing room door, causing you to jump like two teenagers caught by parents. "Hello? Who's in there, we need to change!" You hear Frank say from the other side of the door. The two of you quickly check your makeup to make sure it wasn't messed up, then you walked to the door to unlock it before turning to Gerard.

"You know, if stopped hiding... it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world." You said and he began to shake his head. "The age difference, (Y/N)." "It's six years, Gee. At least it's not like twenty or thirty like some other couples." You say, causing him to shrug. "I guess it's not the worst thing in the world." 

You walk over and unlock the door allowing Frank to come in with the costume cart. Once he realized it was the two of you he gasped. "You?" He said pointing to Gerard, "And you?" He said pointing to you. You turn to Gerard and tilt your head. "Yeah yeah, big deal." He said walking over to wrap an arm around your waist.  That night was one of your best shows yet. You two started showing affection on stage once again, you put your emotion back into your lyrics, and you even got a chance to preform the song you wrote for Gerard that started the whole relationship.

[the-s1lly-corner]

creepypastas of your choice being new parents (reader can be included or not, or the reader can BE the kid. either works)

Eyeless Jack, Slenderman, and Jeff as dads/dad figures

getting silly with it. last request in the inbox, might write some other stuff later today for myself but idk we'll see, admins feeling a little sleepy RAAAAAAH no real mentions of reader i think, just the characters being dads but there might be vague mentions of partners so you can imply that is reader. shrugs. i tend to write these notes before actually writing the post this was originally going to have laughing jack but then i got bummed out when i realized that jack would not make a good solo parent simply because hes too chaotic accidentally swapped from saying "the kid" to "you" midway through writing this but im too tired to fix it so uhuh im making it everyone elses problem/j

SLENDERMAN:

by default i think slenderman can be an okay dad and im purely basing this on the fact that i grew up on the 2010s era of the fandom where quotev quizzes and fics for the fandom were peak. i think in the beginning he would be a little lost, especially if hes going to be raising the kid alone. i mean hes a solitary creature that rarely connects with others, he knows knowing about raising a human child. and thats assuming the kid is even human. if he has a kid with a human reader, are they more human or more... creature..? are they a hybrid? how much of slendermans genetics carry over? can he even have children since admin personally thinks he was made by zalgo like all other demons in this timeline? many questions. protective and strict dad, makes sure the kid does their work and chores, but makes sure he doesnt raise a pushover... definitely hostile towards anyone who harasses the kid, be it bullying or generally just being a douchebag. i think if hes the sole parent he raises them in the woods and teaches them things himself. doesnt bother with putting the child through schooling, theyre a child of the woods now babey!!/hj

look at it this way the kid is really self sufficient and can survive in the wilderness for an extended period of time and they know how to kick butt, assuming they also grow up with his proxies. yeah.. thats going to be interesting... would they see them as uncles or as sibling or family friends? its anyones guess. bonus father figures!!

EYELESS JACK:

also does not know what hes doing. i think i wrote somewhere that jack would put the baby in a carrier and walk around with them in the woods. maybe even showing them different animals and plants even if he knows that the kid cant understand him. definitely a case where hes going to need someone else to help him, be it his partner if theyre still around, or someone else... naturally its going to be harder to find someone to help him if his partner is out of the picture for one reason or another. main reason because that jack is... oh you know, literal man eating demon who sometimes goes into blind feeding frenzies if he gets hungry enough + he tries to put off feeding for as long as possible because it literally means taking a life and he still has his humanity in there. not going to say it out right but i think you guys can put two and two together and understand why jack is wary about having a small child hanging around his cabin. also he wants the kid to be able to grow up around other people. its unlikely, since the other person is likely going to be another creepypasta character because any normal person would rat him out... but he might also want the kid to have a 'normal' upbringing. lots of feelings here for him. kind of like a tired dad, between juggling the child and the things going on with him is really going to do a number on him. giggling at the idea of him trying to get slender to help him esp since i hc they have weird territorial beef going on

JEFF THE KILLER:

actually has a decent grasp of how to treat them but thats because he had liu/was an older brother. the dynamic is less father child and more so older brother younger sibling. probably lets you have a fair amount of free reign; he doesnt really strike me as a strict guardian. probably forgets to pick you up from soccer practice/j ....actually wait no i can kind of see him actually doing that on accident. tries to make it up to you by giving you treats because he does kind of feel bad for leaving you behind. you remind him a lot of his brother. im still torn on whether or not liu is still alive in my silly au but imagine hes not and he kind of. tries to raise you good and treat you well to make up for everything that happened. jeff with some level of mental clarity after the height of everything hits me in a weird sad way i can quite describe. like dont get me wrong hes still the knife wielding dude hes usually written as, but hes a little.. just a tiny bit mellowed out. just a tad.. side note i fully blame the idea of jeff being remorseful over murdering liu from a fic that had a chokehold on me in middle school so oooo... you probably know/interact with ben through jeff since theyre good friends. jumping into my personal hc/au jeff carries ben around in a phone since bens usually confined to electronics and they grew up together. obviously jeff outgrows ben because. you know ghosts dont grow up. so imagine you start becoming best friends with ben and ben is just. SPILLING so much old stuff on jeff, mostly dumb stuff jeff did and him being a jackass. idk i just think thats funny. its like when you suddenly get dad lore but instead of getting it from your dad you get it from dads ghost best friend

[ladythot]

i so badly NEED mumon content in my life. if it’s possible, can you make a drabble or anything about him? NSFW is very welcome 👀

Mumon katsuragi x F!reader

☇ tw: childhood crushes(fufu), NSFW, fuck at first sight, clothed fingering, no proofread we die like men

☇ word count: 3.1k

☇ been awhile since I wrote an entire fic dedicated to some underrated anime boi. Here's a reddit post about mumon so you get to know how epic he is

Meeting you after a decade was the most crucial part of the day.

Ever since your body was still on the point of nurturing at the age of nine, his days of doubting you no matter what benefit a day would give you much time to nourish would remain solid. No matter the count of years on ages it would take you to burgeon—just your body to his very eyes was nothing more than a precarious shape. It never convinced him once that you're even capable of holding a pocket knife to your best defense, nor did it assure him you are very well capable of fetching a healthy body anytime soon. That's the elder mumon you knew from your early years of hankering eagerly after him and katsumi's knack for a natural talent in which you didn't understand.

You were persistent to your own self—where punching the wall and bruising your skin became your regular base on challenging his prudence about you. Katsumi was on the same page as his brother about your case but he was much much more careful with his words and actions. In your best consideration he was your favorite. Much like the people you hung out with the most, his older brother mumon wasn't one. He was always out of your sight until you try to look for him despite how much you hated his raw insults, you still consider him a good friend—he's as good as an inspiration to your ambition anyway.

"Don't try to look for me any longer." Were the words that held an empty hope to your heart. It didn't matter how young you were to realize he wasn't capering at your assumptions about him leaving literally but you had hoped he was. He stood high on top of an old rattletrap where two of you would prattle and share everything that had happened in your day. But right then, he was merely standing on top of a memory filled clunker that was enough to remind him everything you two had given each other. He looked down, his eyes glinting sincerity that also flickered with sorrow—his hands tucked at his hoodie pockets.

"I'm fleeing." He says with sole resolveness. Narrowing his eyes a bit when he saw you scrunch at your gritting teeth—"what..what about katsumi..?" Your timid voice breaks "Don't you care about him?" Furrowing your brows, you slowly balled your hands into tightening fists while you looked at him with the same fierce look you give him when he'd make fun of your weak physique.

He shakes his head, squatting carefully on top of the rattletrap. His eyes heaving into a soft gaze as he looks down at you with a faint smile.

"There's a man waiting to take him in. What's there for me to look after?" He says this with a soft chuckle followed by a wider smile. This didn't help with your temper and you knew better than what lies ahead of his excuse. You narrowed your eyes at him that's about close to tearing up from being upset—he notices this and hops down with ease, now standing before you.

"I figured…." He gently places his hand on your head "it's best if I leave." Your fierce gaze hefted into a softer look once you paid attention to how he handles this. Rubbing your head he continued while he played with your hair.

"I..made a grave mistake, never had I thought of running away from my own problems until now because of how heavy it was for me…" he eyes you with the softest look you've ever seen from him. The way he was behaving towards you made you open your eyes at his situation. "..Y/n" your eyes widen when he calls out to you.

"Do me a favor and don't tell a soul. Treat it as if I never existed nor am I worth being in anyone's memory about my flee."

His face had a hint of sorrow engraved in but his hand at the side of your cheek was tender and lively. He caresses it in a way you'll have to remember it as your last contact with him—you placed your hand on top of his, softening your look. He smiles at this, pinching your cheek suddenly.

"Well, I dunno if we'll meet again in the near future…" He chuckled silently, pulling your cheek just about an inch. He seems to be enjoying his contact with your skin since he never thought about how delicate your skin really was other than him taking it in a feeble way.

"But if we did, make sure you kept your promise to me." He says before pulling you into a tight hug then burying his face into your hair, whiffing it as if he'll be keeping it as a mere collection of you. This made him feel nothing like any of the times he felt desperate for something, the body that he had always considered weak was stronger than his need at the moment as you pressed up against him. He couldn't let go just yet, not until he's ready to live a day without seeing you again. If running away with you was an option he'll gladly do so but that was just a mere idea to him.

He stayed nestled against you until one of your playmates came to your concern as it was getting late. Mumon pulls away with a smile, kissing your forehead before he quickly elopes, one last bye-bye and he disappears. You could almost see tears beading in his eyes but you don't blame him, you came to understand the hidden fact he actually had no one else he considers a true 'friend' other than you.

A decade has passed since your last encounter—you both were all grown up to the point of glowing up. Your entire presence had changed into a well nourished one under Katsumi's care and you were more than the lady he deemed 'defenseless' once. He's quite proud of himself to be at your service if it wasn't for his adoptive father giving you a chance to shoot your shot and he wasn't wrong about your burgeoning. You agree to that when you look at the mirror with glee next to a baby picture of you. Whenever you look at it, it makes your doubts about reality And judgment back then subside, you did look awfully weak. And this drifts your mind back to one person that spoke the truth; mumon.

You wondered how he was and where he is, what does he look like now, has he forgotten about you? These were the first questions that would always pop at your slightest bit of recollection about him and you would always end up shrugging it all off.

Mumon had considered himself dead to all the places he flew from since the past years. He didn't care what anyone thought about him anymore as long as you kept your promise to him. He never considered showing up to you again out of pure hesitation—from the looks of his situation you'll probably think he became a bad guy and he's aware of it.

That was until he heard a certain voice in the midst of a festive herd, distinctive yet unclear, but just about enough to piece out an original part from his childhood. And even the name it was calling out to was someone he definitely knew.

"Katsumi!! Katsumi!!"

The tone-the melody and the pitch, seemed all too familiar. He was certain—no, he was right. His eyes finally had the opportunity to envelope your form into his thinking as soon as the crowd gave some space and he couldn't help but let his incredulity get the best out of it.

"Improbable…." He mutters to himself. Hunching his back a little until he was at the level of your height from afar then narrowing his eyes at your form. He gives himself some time to register your figure in a theory he made a mental image of, but more clearly he was just being pessimistic of all things he could possibly make of you. He straightens up, his lips curving into a smile before walking towards the crowd.

"Katsumi..where are you…" your eyes frantically moved from one place to another, you could feel heaps of anxiety shiver down your spine when the crowd tightens with more people at your dismay. You tried walking to a nearby free space when a hand suddenly taps at your shoulder and immediately you turn around.

"You look quite troubled, dear lady" his tone was nothing threatening but gentle. His hat blocking half his face that made it seem impossible to recognize who he is. "May I help..?" He smiles, offering his hand before chuckling a little. You looked at his figure up and down before completely turning to him with a puzzled expression. It seems unknown to you why someone in a tight crowd would help especially with the kind of attire he had.

"No..i-i'm good..thank you.." You bow your head to him before turning your back at him, you could hear him chuckling to himself as you started to walk towards the only free space. He pulls his hat back, his hair dropping to his shoulder length as he smiles. "Y/n L/n." You immediately stopped. Turning back once again only to be met with the one who ushered you to make a promise in favor. Your eyes widened at this, you could tell just how much he's changed since the past decade but he still kept the natural feminine touch.

"Did you keep your promise?"

He closes the gap between the two of you as you remain stilt in front of him. He was tall, and you fail to reckon the last time he walked this close. His body was more slim than katsumi but you could almost see his muscles, enough to tell you what he's all capable of. He scans you up and down, his smile never left when he finds how amusing you looked at him. He laughs, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"It's getting pretty tight here, let's talk somewhere else." The way he looked at you was like the first time he gave you the softest look he could never let you see back then, and you could tell he's still the same person he used to be despite how much he did to change himself. "Katsumi can wait later." He assures you before walking away outside the crowd as you follow right after. Silence prevailed until the sound of people subside in peace as he takes you to a place where cherry trees are present, along with the moon shining down at the nearby river.

He had gathered as many questions he can when he meets you but right now, only one thing concerns him. An idea he's been thinking of since you both were away from each other and what possibility it had on his long journey.

"So…" You turn your head to him. He looks ahead, quite nervous yet curious. "You two…together..?" He smiles to mask the sheer brittle of anxiousness he has while he waits for an answer. The only girl he was really planning to hit on was you, nobody else and if this turns out to be a yes he isn't sure what to make of it.

"Huh..?" He looks down at the ground, appearing nervous but he keeps a cool facade.

"You and katsumi..I mean." His hat hid his expression and you couldn't really make out what he meant and why he'd even ask a question like this that's far to be concerned about.

"No..w-why?" Your eyes would lay on his face as soon as he threw his head back to stare up at the night sky in relief, smiling as he looked down at you. "That's great, thought I wouldn't have a chance with you after all these years without me by your side." "Wha-" before you could say anything else he'd pin you under a cherry tree with a thud from his hand. All you could really do is stay stiff against him as he kissed you, both of your hands pinned against the rough branch while he eagerly bit at your soft lip. Your eyes would flutter close as the kiss would gradually turn into a slow one, just enough to match your pace.

He pulls away with a faint smirk as he pants. You could see how long he's been yearning for something like this, by the way he acted, you couldn't deny how much he missed you even if he flew as a 'friend' and nothing else more than that. Despite this taking a turn on your expectations, you were not complaining.

"Did I scare you there?" His smile widened as he kept his hands on both of your wrists. His voice was light and gentle, hearing it made you melt. When he leans into your neck, you slowly look up at the moon behind him while he whiffs out your scent—his knees weaken. He closes his eyes, taking one more whiff at your scent before placing his thumb on your chin with a satiated look.

"Mumon.." You huffed out with your cheeks beating red as you stared up at him. The moon behind him illuminating everything he had caused you to make this expression out of him—he smiles at this, leaning in for another kiss. The way you said his name didn't help with his urges. His tongue would skillfully roll above and under yours in your mouth while you gasp between kisses, and at your most effort you couldn't really meet with his tongue's pace. All of this was sending you into a pleasurable daze, something you wish two of you had done sooner if that was possible.

He pulls away with a heavy gaze, as if he's lost himself between your moist lips. He gives you a faint smile before laughing quietly. "You look adorable right now, I can't believe it…." His eyes traveled down at your chest—down to your hips, then back to your bashful face. He takes the view all in as he burns the image in his head.

"I should teach you how to kiss.." He chuckled before diving in for another make out. This time, more tongue. You'd moan at this, quivering from the bump of his knee between your legs as he started rubbing it sensually against you—he makes sure he's kneeing rightfully at your clothed weak spot as you moan into the kiss, making him lap and suck at your tongue with a determined face to pleasure you and make you haunt for more once he leaves again for maybe another year. Once he gets bored with the padding of his knee, he would slide a hand down to your thigh as he hoists the hem of your dress over your waist—squeezing the side of your thigh before dragging it upwards your clothed wet clit. He pulls away only an inch to your face, his forehead resting against yours as he smirks. You could feel his hot breath fanning at your delicate skin when he spoke in a low husked voice.

He'd cruelly fondle two fingers at your clothed wet slit, watching every bit of your reaction intently while he holds both of your hands just above your head—making you completely meek and vulnerable at his touch. You look away, biting your lip with your cheeks completely red and wet with sweat. Your thighs would squish themselves together against the hand that was pleasuring you and it made him smile with glee.

"So delicate- like a cute damn doll…" he pinches your clit—making you cry out as you threw your head back against the tree with a thud along with a loud stifled moan. He grins, he doesn't let any of your reaction slip away out of his sight now that you came. He has to eat up all of this, he needs it.

"You came already? That's cute." He chuckles as he watches you pant before him. His hand still working on you to get down your high and once you're finished, he'll slowly take it out and hold two fingers close to your lips. You were still in a daze but you could clearly see how wet you were at the evidence before you—you let out a small moan when he gently slides it down your mouth as you tasted yourself at his fingers, soon followed by him sucking at your tongue once again before he pulls away with a trail that consists of your juice and saliva.

"Good girl…" The sound of his voice was enough to get you weak at the front of your knees. You stare at him, almost as if you didn't want him to leave anymore. You purse your lips that were still glossing from the previous act and he watches intently. Before you could even say anything you could hear katsumi shouting your name from the distance, the tree mumon picked hid you both very well so you took your time to recover quickly before katsumi finds you.

"Aww I'm disappointed" he laughed as he freed your wrists with care. Smiling down at you, "let's meet each other again, not for another decade though.." Your eyes lit up from this as you watched him rub the back of his head.

"Now don't let them see you like this-" He fixes your dress, tidying you up which made you widen your eyes along with a flustered touch at your expression. You could see him blushing a bit when he sees the handprints he left behind your supple skin and the trail of hickeys at your neck, it made him feel content even if he didn't really get to do more—the experience was enough to cover his yearning. Your body still quivered lightly and he noticed this and a feeling of pure joy washed over him. Maybe it was a bit too much pleasure but he was glad to serve you that much, maybe enough to crave for more.

"Mumon..come back..safe?" Your tone of voice was quiet and your breath was still shaky but he nodded at your question nonetheless.

"Yeah, I'll do. Far as I know we're gonna do more than this when we meet again and I can't pass up that opportunity" he joked. His smile curving into a wide one as he places his hands on your shoulders. "I'm sorry I rushed it..I just had to.." A faint blush grew on his face out of shame. He could've really talked you out to get you in the mood but he chose to rush. He sighs When he hears another round of katsumi shouting your name like you're a missing child—he then kissed your forehead just like back then when he was about to flee.

"See ya 'round, babs"

[g-kat423]

If Alcina being a lesbian is so important to you why does she have an ex husband in your fic

I’m going to assume this is a genuine question without malicious intent so I will provide a real answer.

This could actually apply to 2 of my fics, but I’m guessing you’re talking about Something Sweet since it’s the one that I update more frequently.

Gonna plop this under a read more since it’s gotten long

Alright, so, the reason for her having an ex husband has been stated throughout the fic. She felt she had to be closeted and to meet certain expectations set for her both by society and by her parents. Sure, people are more accepting now, not that there isn’t still bigotry or pressure to conform, but with the fic taking place in 2022(I started it in 2022 and only a few months have passed in fic time and while I never explicitly stated the year, that’s what everything is based off of, giving Alcina a 1978 birth year and the reader 2001) that means Alcina got married in 2008. Idk if you were around during that time, but homophobia was rampant, being gay was a punchline. It’s not something you would talk about, there’s no way to know if your friends would actually stay your friends and not spread vicious rumors about you. Marriage equality in most states, not a thing. Again, bigots still exist, but it’s generally not this life ruining thing for people to find out you’re queer. Alcina would have come of age in the 90’s which would make that even worse.

That aside, I tend to explore themes of coming out later and families not being being accepting because it’s all I know. I tend to process my trauma through my writing. That and I’m sure it’s no secret that I’ve taken heavy inspiration from Carol only with a sugar baby twist. I also wanted her to have younger, biological children since I felt that would be fitting of a 44 year old divorcee rather than having adopted adult children like she does in canon. Sure, they could have been adopted or older, but there needed to be a reason for her to stay with Kurt for the amount of time that she did. I needed her connected to Karl in someway too. Heisenberg was originally supposed to have a twin brother so I went off of that and now Alcina has her annoying ex brother-in-law(who actually isn’t so bad in this universe, but Alcina won’t hear of it)

As for The Fall of the House of Dimitrescu. I’m sure no one is asking, but in that case Alcina was weak from her hereditary blood disease and didn’t have the energy to be defiant the same way she was as a child. Her father had lost his wife and he had no desire to continue caring for Alcina so he set her up with somebody who she reluctantly went along with. In that case, Alcina wasn’t even aware of her attraction to women yet, she just didn’t understand why she didn’t feel a spark with her soon to be husband. She also assumed it was normal for sex to be an unpleasant “wifely duty.” Once she finally made the connection and had an affair with a woman, turns out she liked sex quite a bit lmao.

Idk, all this aside, I know I’m not the only one who has given Alcina a husband in some context yet still fully believes shes a lesbian. I also have plenty of fics where she’s never had one. The first multichapter fic I wrote she literally left her home and privileged life behind to struggle until she made it as musician rather than marry a man. I don’t think it’s a crime to explore other possibilities. I have so many different headcanons for Alcina and all are universe dependent whether that be modern AU, the canon compliant timeline where she never marries, the canon compliant timeline where she does, and all the other in between stuff that diverges from canon. She’s one of my favorite characters of all time and I love fleshing her out.

[peeves-gurl]

Fic based on this request!!

Here we go!! This was the first time I got a request, and the first time I wrote a fic based on a request, so I hope you like it!!

Warnings: My weird imagination, fluff, family argument, use of Y/N, idiot Ron

“You look beautiful Ronnie!” The twins said in unison as they walked into the common room.

The place was nearly empty, except for a few first and second year students, who weren’t yet allowed to go to Hogsmeade on weekends. The twins, on the other hand, had been banned from going to Hogsmeade for a month as a punishment from their mother for the a recent prank that McGonagall had written to her about.

“That’s literally not funny,” Ron moaned, covered in tiny porcupine quills that he grew after eating a cookie his older brothers offered him.

“We think it’s hilarious,” Fred smirked back.

“Bloody comical,” George supported.

“Fuck you! You’ve always used me as some kind of lab rat for your experiments.” Ron said, his temper rising.

“It’s because you didn’t let us use good old Wormtail,” Fred mocked.

“Oh shut the hell up George! Get this rubbish off me, and keep your worthless experiments limited to yourself.” Ron shouted, turning a few heads in his direction as everyone in the common room became interested in this fight. “Do you think it’s funny, troubling others for your entertainment? You’ve always done this to me, right since I was a baby!”

“No we haven’t. And I’m George, not him.” George corrected. “We only got into pranking after we turned seven.”

“C’mon mate, at least own up! You were the one who turned my Teddy Bear into a spider when I was three, weren’t you?”

“Are you actually still mad over that?” Fred asked amusedly.

“I’m actually mad over the audacity that you have, to think you’ll make a living out of this.” He said, pointing to the still growing quills. “I’m bloody sure you’ll end up as nothing, probably having to marry rich girls like Y/N to have a decent life!”

“Stay within your limits Ronald.” Fred scolded, and George quickly stepped in between his brothers to put an end the argument.

“Move, Fred, or George, whichever one you are!” Ron shouted, trying to shove George out of the way.

“What do you mean ‘whichever one’? Can you actually not tell the difference between your own brothers?” George said, immediately forgetting that he was trying to maintain peace.

“How does that matter? You’re both exactly the same, pathetic and useless.” Ron rolled his eyes. “Now get these stupid quills off me before I stab you with them.”

“No,” George said angrily.

“No?” Ron repeated.

“No. Not until you apologize for what you said about my girlfriend,” Fred agreed.

“I will not, because it’s true.” Ron said back.

Fred pushed George out of the way, angrily stepping up in front of his younger brother, towering over him. Unbeknownst to the three of them, Y/N had walked into the common room, having just returned to the castle from Hogsmeade. She paused in her steps, shocked to see the Weasleys fighting in this way.

“Do you know how much it hurts us to realise that our own family can’t tell us apart? None of you lot, not even Mum and Dad know us as anything other than ‘the twins’.” Fred shouted, and Y/N’s heart broke when his voice cracked with emotion.

“Y/N is our best friend Ron,” George said. “She’s the only one who’s ever been able tell us apart. You don’t know what your saying when you tell us Fred’s with her for the money. We love her because she makes us feel like we’re individuals, like we have a personality outside of just being twins.”

Before things could get worse, Y/N walked up to the boys, intending to end the debate. She marched up to them quickly, engulfing Fred in a hug, and she could feel the anger ebb out his body as his shoulders relaxed. She reached up to slightly peck his lips, before stepping away to hand a bag of his favourite sweets from Honeydukes.

She moved towards George next, giving him a little squeeze and handing his bag of sweets to him.

“Ron,” she said calmly yet strictly, finally turning her attention to the younger Weasley, “It’s really not nice of you to not be able to tell your brothers apart.”

“It doesn’t matter, love. Let’s go outside.” Fred insisted.

“Just give me a minute Freddie.” She said, continuing to look at Ron, who was now beginning to get nervous.

“Can you guess the sweets in those bags, by any chance?” She asked.

“Treacle Tart, Chocolate Frogs and Pumpkin pie.” Ron replied, slightly more tensed than before.

“Yes, but whose bag has which ones?’ she asked again.

“I don’t know,” Ron said meekly.

“I’ll give you another chance, Ron. Everyone knows these two love Purple and Orange,” she said, pointing to the bright ‘Weasleys Wizard Wheezes’ logo on a flyer lying in the common room. “But do you know who added which one?”

“No,” Ron said again, his ears turning red with embarassment, and there were a few snickers passed around the others in the room.

“Do you lot not have homework?” she said, addressing a younger students, who immediately ran off at being addressed by a prefect. “You don’t know anything about them individually, do you?” she asked, turning her attention back to the guilty Weasley boy in front of her.

“I’m really sorry,” he said softly, and his voice did indicate the truth behind those words.

“You should be,” Fred said finally.

With a quick swish of her wand, Y/N made the quills disappear, and began to lead the twins outside the common room.

“I’m sorry,” Ron repeated, this time to his brothers, “I should have made an effort to know you both better.”

“I suppose it’s not too late,” George said, giving Ron a small smile.

“And don’t you dare talk shit about my girlfriend again.” Fred warned.

“I won’t, sorry!” Ron smiled back, and Y/N quickly dug out a bunch of chocolate frogs from her pocket for him.

They walked out of the common room together, before George bid them goodbye and headed off in the opposite direction to look for Angelina.

“Thanks love,” Fred whispered, placing a quick peck onto her lips. “I really appreciate you, have I ever told you?”

“Yes, but keep going.” She whispered back, stealing another kiss, and it felt much better when she finally felt him smile against her lips.

[marcskywalker]

merthur au/prompts I can't stop thinking about (@ fic writers)

arthur being magic positive and hiding it from merlin. I spoke more about it here and @neupulman wrote this amazing fic based on it but omg this idea lives in my head RENT FUCKING FREE and I'd love as many fics written on it as possible

merlin being cursed (or wtv) and temporarily loses his magic. He grows insanely controlling of arthur cause he feels like he can no longer protect arthur from danger if he doesn't have magic and is constantly trying is order him around. no, you're not allowed to go there, no you can't say that, no you're not allowed to accept food from him. and arthur is just ?????? tf is wrong with my best friend?? but doesn't read much into it because it's merlin and merlin's always been a little weird and bossy. merlin keeps getting into so much more trouble (cause again, his usual way of staying out of trouble is magic) so arthur's put in position to protect him more often and both of them are ???????? "why THE FUCK ARE you putting yourself in danger for me??" and "WHY ARE YOU getting into so much trouble??" until they figure out that "oh you're in love with me and can't bare to see any harm come to me" and "oh you have magic and someone already hurt you by taking it away"

Arthur meeting Merlin's family for the first time and being accepted. Idk how clear I can make this but I hate Arthur's family and how is he is treated by them (except you ygraine, you're dead and lovely) so ya someone give that boy loving affirmations

One of them is brainwashed/mind controlled/possessed and beats the shit out of the other person who refuses to fight back. I LOVE this trope. It slaps all the time. Look at destiel. Look at stucky. ALL THE TIME

another au that I've spoke about before AND I'LL SPEAK ABOUT IT AGAIN: I took that scene where Arthur says "I'll give up my crown just see her smile again" or something like that about morgana, and ran with it. There is only so many assassination attempts a brother can go through before he wilts and does another to have his sister back. In Arthur's case: he willingly hands over the throne for a chance at having a chance at his pesty, loving, older sister (I AM A YOUNGER BROTHER ARTHUR TRUTHER) look at him with something other than endless hate. what I Love about this prompt is that it could go so so many different ways. @mobycotton was lovely enough to write this amazing fic for me that I LOVED. In my head, Arthur is really shaken up by another one of Morgana's attempts at killing him. He doesn't know what's saved him and at this point he wishes whatever it is would stop. He goes down a spiral thinking of his family; the mother that he killed, the father that he let down, the uncle he betrayed and the sister he never deserved. What good could he be for Camelot when he wasn't even good enough for his flesh and blood. So he announces his truce; gives it over to morgana and leaves Camelot and everyone he knows behind. The knights and merlin have to eventually hunt him down and convince him otherwise (and he meets random people along the way who are stans of King Arthur just like me and he gets some sort of self esteem back)

Protective BAMF merlin. Basically merlin overhears someone talking shit about his prince and starts a fist fight. Arthur finds out

Mid s1 merthur where Arthur knows he's in love with Merlin and he shoves it DEEP inside, sticks to pining after his manservant like the pathetic (lovingly) puppy he is. All Merlin knows is that, for whatever reason, he would rather eat his own feet than let anything happen to Arthur. Which is why when brave, stupid arthur walks towards a stranger light source in the forest; he follows without hesitation, only to see...... arthur and himself snogging against a tree? Basically a pining, repressed prince Arthur and Merlin I don't know what this weird feeling in my tummy when I see him is Emrys accidentally walks through a portal into an alternatively universe where they know how to communicate well and have been disgustingly in love. The four of them have to work together to get Arthur and Merlin back where they belong.

Merlin makes a deal with his king cenred: for protection of his village, he will infiltrate Camelot's castle and bring them down. He just wishes someone had told him that prince charming of Camelot would make him fall in love with his pouty lips and gooey eyes. I don't know if yáll have noticed this but Arthur pouts A LOT. I can't take him seriously smh

[nights-flying-fox]

It's Not Pain (It's Applause)

So!! I learned today is one of my fav albums' anniversary, and of course i had to write something quickly based on a song in the album!! I present you this Dimension Hopper Leo AU fic, which is just Hop looking through his adventures and thinking at late night hours. I didn't check it for any mistakes, so i hope everything is correct haha!! The song that the fic is heavily inspired is "Battle Cries" by The Amazing Devil :]

(Also Null belongs to @noxvee6 and Twin-Sync AU belongs to @little-banjo-frog ^^ )

Tagging @tmntaucompetition because it is mentioned here too, even if not very detailed hehe

《 words and ao3 link will be added later, I don't think there are anything that needs warning, but if there is please tell me so I can add!!》

☆ ☆ ☆

 He had never thought he would see an older version himself from an outside view, let alone himself. But fate had surprised him. Perhaps it wasn't fate at all, but his choices.

 Turning the pages of the notebook he wrote his discoveries in, he sighed. He looked at the pictures of Neon. He was one of the future versions of himself that he had met. He had ended up being a great friend to him, teaching him some basics. He smiled at the picture of him being busy as a leader. Neon had given him hope, maybe one day he could be like him. He was afraid of the possibility and the responsibility, but those were just a few details next to many good possibilities. 

 He still regretted not asking him some things, but who knows, maybe one day he would. And maybe one day he could annoy the heck out of him, tell him he met a Leo with hair, pointing out his lies. (He was aware he could never know about that possibility, but it was worth teasing the old man.)

He also was one of the people who had proven he wasn't alone. When alone, at night he thought about how without his family he wouldn't go far, he would remember him just like others. He would answer the question of who would save him if he fell (but could they save him when he fell in the deepest part of it all, when he would accept he wouldn't be able to go back home?).

 Leo shook his head. He didn't want to think of any possibilities about the future. He had found a moment of relaxation, a calm hour. Who would've known it would be so hard to rest while visiting almost every timeline that exists? Somehow, trouble never stopped finding them. Make it a villain, a plot twist, or a war. There always was something to do, even if he didn't belong. Even if he had his own war to win, a home to reach.

 He turned the page, humming at the image of the four turtles who had recently discovered they were a family. Honestly, they  must've been idiots to not notice they were related. Or maybe it felt like that to him because these faces belonged to his family as well. Whatever, he was happy to have met them and to know fate had reunited them. They had a lot to catch up to, just as Leo would when he would reunite with his family. 

 Turning pages he came across the picture of younger Big Mama and Lou Jitsu. He cringed, remembering the way he ended up in the past. They sure had an interesting love story, but it definitely was not Leo's cup of tea. 

 He turned the page quickly. After a short while he ended up seeing the grumpiest Leo in the universe. Null's big frown was visible in the picture. His smile returned, big and genuine. Who would know a version of you who wanted you dead would end up being as close to you as your real family? Leo hoped to see him soon, tease him by calling him his big brother. He was sure Null didn't mind, but the guy would do the favor of rolling his eyes and going along with it. He was proud to know him, seeing how he grew to be a better person. He hoped he was proud to know Leo as well.

 And then there were the pages dedicated to the competition he had found himself in. Various alternative versions of his family were all over the pages. He wasn't even sure if he knew all of them. He still grinned, it was fun. The other Leo and Donnie– they were team Twin-Sync–  had become great friends of his, and multiple pictures of them together decorated a single page. He had also gained a new fear towards mushrooms, and had found a new fun game to play. Who would know Muppets could be so bloodthirsty? Game nights were wild…

 He closed it and sighed, so many memories. So many dimensions and timelines. He was happy for all of them. Everything he had learned, everything that helped him become someone better. Everyone he had met and knew and helped. Every time he hopped somewhere new, it felt like restarting a new work of art– at least a Mikey had used that metaphor once he explained to him his adventures. And so many times he was told to hop away once he could, but so many times Leo refused. He couldn't stand to see his family in danger (again). And no matter the pain, it was worth it. Everything was worth for any version of his family. With them he felt like he could summon the Gods and the stars. Heck, he even felt like they were Gods. (He pushed back the memory of an older self of his saying that they were just kids.)

 And there were times he had trouble with those versions. Some that didn't trust him, and some that he had to not trust. There were bitter moments, but there were good ones too. (He swallowed down the pain of the words he had heard from some. The way some wield them as if he was an enemy.) They tried to get rid of him, sometimes. They must've forgotten Leo was stubborn. They could say goodbye, but he won't.

 Leo took a deep breath. It was crazy how he had ended up here. Everywhere. Whatever. It was as if he was walking in the darkness searching for light, but the darkness grew. (And he was afraid he was sinking so deep it was too late.) But he wouldn't give up (even if everything felt like going against him). He wouldn't turn his nights into them, especially when he was about to hop again. 

 Maybe one day he would do everything. Enjoy the calm, or show his skills in a fight. Maybe he would make a season finale, find the right portal. The smiles of others that he reflected would be truly his family's. (And no longer his mask would hide the tears.) Instead of staying, he'd keep hopping as much as he would keep hoping. (He would hide his fears with every new beginning.)

 And he would take a sigh. (And the battle cries in his mind would be buried deep.)

 And every time, it will be worth it for them. It can't hurt him if he'd have people he loved with him.

 (He wouldn't scream. Maybe he was at the end of all the things. It wasn't the time to ask himself how he was.) As long as he believed, he was okay. He was fine.

 Maybe tomorrow was the day. And finally, maybe everything would be over.