#someone pls join me in this au

[edenfire]

🚫 you will no longer be obedient 🚫

this shuake ella enchanted au has been bouncing around in my head for the past few days and I'm going crazy

[wavesmp3]

young & stupid

yoon jeonghan x reader (gender neutral)

you think yoon jeonghan is crazy when he asks if you'll pretend to date him, but luckily for him you're just young and dumb enough to agree.

genre: university + fake dating au word count: 14k warnings: alcohol, profanity, some explicit content, mentions of sex, and a very american writer who says soccer instead of football a/n: posted an unfinished version of this like 4 years ago and randomly decided one day a couple weeks ago to finish it. this is the most indulgent fic i have ever written. pls enjoy my birthday gift to myself lolol

Music bursts from every corner of the run-down frat house, chasing after you no matter where you run to escape it. Bodies endlessly spill in from the patio and front entrance, a never ending revolving door of college kids just like yourself looking for some kind of release after a long week of… well, college. But unlike most times you’ve paid a visit to Soonyoung’s frat house on a Friday night, tonight you’ve already decided that you are not going to be having fun at this party.

Soonyoung begged you to come, bribing your appearance with a promise to study with you for the next math quiz. Of course the first thing he does after walking into the house with you is ditch you. But even that, you deal with. You find some friends among the crowd, acquaint yourself with some beer, and almost start to have fun egging on a brewing dance battle. But all that ends the second you turn a corner too fast and are met with a full cup of bright red jungle juice all over your white shirt.

So now, upstairs in a bathroom Soonyoung let you in to, desperately trying to wash out the stains, you make a stubborn decision to not make another appearance at a frat party for the rest of the semester which you’re positive you’ll break by the time midterms are up.

But for now, helplessly staring at your reflection in the dirty mirror, you arrive to the conclusion that this damn jungle juice stain is not coming out. You exit the bathroom into the adjoining room and start grabbing your stuff to walk home.

“Who the fuck are you?” You jump at the voice that’s joined you in the room. You hadn’t even noticed anyone entering. You stare at the figure, mouth open. “How’d you get into my room?”

“Oh my gosh, so sorry,” you apologize in a hurried voice, packing your things up impossibly faster. “Soonyoung let me in. It was just supposed to be a quick thing–Wait no, that makes it sound like we were hooking up. Which we definitely were not. I can promise you that much, lol, not Soonyoung. But no, I just needed the bathroom. Cause this dude and his jungle juice, and…” you look down at your shirt. “Anyways, I was about to go home. I didn’t even–”

“Okay, wait, slow down.” The guy cuts you off. “You know Soonyoung.”

You nod. “Uh, yeah, we’re friends.”

He steps closer, narrowing his eyes at you, and for a moment you think the guy looks a little bit familiar. “And you’re not a stalker?”

This time you squint, jutting your head forward. “A stalker?” He stares at you unwavering. You scoff. “Um. No. Of course not.”

“Oh, okay, good.” He exhales, his previous demeanor falling entirely. “Well, in that case, let me help.” He walks towards one of the dressers, pulling the drawer open to rummage through it.

“No. That’s okay. You don’t have to–”

“Let me. Plus,” he gestures towards the general direction of your shirt without looking up from the drawer, “that can’t be comfortable. And it definitely isn’t flattering.”

You’re too stunned to say anything back. You’re not sure how you’d respond anyways to what you think counts as an insult from the dude who’s also helping you. You study him instead. You’ve definitely seen him around before, but you’re not entirely sure where or when because you probably would’ve remembered someone as attractive as him. He’s tall, soft-faced with longer hair that cuts off right under his ears, and damn is he attractive. In an obvious—in your face, weak in the knees, god this man is beautiful—kind of way. Not that you notice.

“Here.” He throws a tshirt your way, and you catch it between your arms. You both stare at each for a long moment, until he jumps on his heels a little as if he’s suddenly remembered something. “My bad, I’ll turn around.”

You stare unamused at his backside. He really doesn’t think you’re going to change with him in the room does he?

And almost as if he’s reading your mind, he says: “Don’t worry, I won’t peek.” He looks over his shoulder with a crooked, mischievous smile. “I mean unless you want me to.” Your stomach throws itself out the window.

You scoff. “I’ll just change in the bathroom.” You fully expect the guy to be gone by the time you exit the bathroom, but instead he’s still there, sitting at the edge of the bed on his phone.

You clear your throat. “Thanks for the shirt.”

“Oh, yeah,” he looks up from his phone and takes you in. You swear his mouth twitches into a half smile. “It’s no big deal.

You let out an awkward half laugh, half sigh. “So, I’ll get this shirt back to you somehow. Thanks again.”

He nods, still staring at the air around your body with that sickeningly charming half smile. You turn for the door.

“Wait!” You pause, facing the boy again who is now standing up, arm stretched out towards you. He drops it at once like it was never supposed to be there. “Are you going back to the party?”

You actually laugh at that. “God, no. I’m going home.”

“Oh.” He tilts his head, and then opens and closes his mouth as if the words keep getting lost in the back of his throat. You try not to think too hard about how endearing the action is. “I can give you a ride if you want.”

You shake your head quickly. “No, that’s alright. I don’t live that far.” You live on the opposite side of campus.

He grabs a set of keys off his desk. “Let me. I wanna get out of this party too. But sadly,” he motions to the room you’re both standing in, then leans towards you a little, “I live here.”

And you know you should refuse. You know there is nothing sensical about letting this stranger, whose name you don’t even know, take you home. But there’s something about his smile and the tufts of hair falling over his forehead, something about the way he gave you his shirt that makes you say yes against your better judgment.

It turns out, leaving the party with the mysteriously nice guy, who’s conveniently hot (again, not that you’re looking), is much harder than it looks. The only plus side to getting bombarded with people wanting to talk to him, is that you learn his name: Jeonghan. And it hits you then, of course you’ve seen him around before. Well, maybe not him, but you’ve definitely seen his picture. His face is plastered over all of the university’s promotional material. Half the school has a crush on Jeonghan, the star soccer player. Unfortunately for you and your apparently impossible wish to go home, it also appears that half the school is at this party and fueled with liquid confidence.

“Hey Jeonghan,” one person in particular slurs, appearing in front of you and him magically. Yeah, you think, if I were him I’d want to get out of this party too. Then as if the stranger has come to their senses, they jump back and clasp their hands over their mouth. A blush paints itself all over their face. “So sorry. I must’ve tripped or something…” they laugh awkwardly. Jeonghan does too. You look over at him and find that he looks incredibly uncomfortable.

“It’s fine,” he tells them, holding his hands up, “I gotta go. See you around though.” And Jeonghan’s turning on his heel ready to dash for the door.

“Wait a second!” The person calls, grabbing Jeonghan’s arm before he can slip out of the house. He turns back around begrudgingly. “I was uh I was sort of wondering if you’d like to maybe go out or something—“

You watch them ask out Jeonghan on a date, and well, it’s sort of cute. The stranger clearly harbors a massive crush on Jeonghan. They’re not being rude or pushy, and honestly, even after accounting for the alcohol, they’re more confident and bold than you’d be. You find yourself wanting to congratulate them. But then, with another look at Jeonghan’s face, you feel a burst of pity. You know that look. Jeonghan is going to turn them down.

“I, uh, I’m really flattered but I…” Jeonghan stutters through his words, shooting you a glance asking for help. You just shrug. Suddenly his smirk reappears. He grabs your hand, pulling you to his slide and lifting your joined hands up like a trophy. “I’m actually with them.”

Your teeth clench immediately to keep your mouth from falling open. You stare at Jeonghan, eyes screaming.

“Oh sorry,” the person looks between the two of you, “I didn’t know.”

You stare at Jeonghan, waiting for him to say something and failing to find any words for yourself. But instead of continuing his lie verbally, he decides to act it out even further, bringing your hands up to his lips and pressing the faintest kiss to your knuckle.

That fucker.

“Yeah,” you sigh, grasping at straws for something to say that sounds convincing with your one free hand. “It’s new.” You squeeze Jeonghan’s hand hard enough to know it has to have hurt and promptly drag him out of the house.

Once you’re in his car, safe from all his suitors. You round on him. “You couldn’t have just said no?”

“That was their third time asking me out.”

“And?”

“Turning down people is hard.” He whines, pushing the keys in the car and starting the ignition. “It was just easier to say we’re dating. Plus, you’re in my shirt so it already looks like we just had sex.”

“Or,” you gasp, exasperated, “it looks like I got jungle juice on my shirt, and you just gave me one to wear!”

He gives you a look. “Now, who would believe that?”

You have the sudden desire to dissolve into the seat.

“Anyways,” he says, putting the car in reverse, “where to?”

“East campus. The Austin Complex.”

He makes a triumphant noise while stopping at a red light. “It appears I’m not the only one that’s been telling lies tonight. Not that far you said.”

You gape at him. “My lie is not comparable to yours.”

“Actually I think it is.” He taps a finger to his chin. “In fact, I think it even makes us equal.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

He holds out his pinky as a peace offering. “I’m not moving until you agree.”

“Jeonghan, the light’s green.”

He glances at the green traffic light and proceeds to turn his hazards on in the middle of the fucking road all while keeping his pinky in the exact same spot.

“Are you crazy?”

“Most people don’t think so.”

“People will honk.”

“It’s 1 am.”

You say his name. He says yours. The light turns yellow, and you feel a rush of warmth.

“Fine.” You huff, joining your pinky with his. “We’re equal.”

He passes the light just as it turns red.

—

You haven’t seen Jeonghan since the entire incident. In truth, you’ve been so busy studying for your math quiz with Soonyoung that you almost hadn’t even thought about that night again. Emphasis on almost. However, when you get your score back the following week, the hours you spent studying appear to have been wasted. You slump into a bench outside the lecture hall, holding another barely passing grade to your chest.

And in the midst of your public wallowing, you feel a flick to your forehead.

You yelp and snap your eyes open to Jeonghan who stands before you snickering. “What was that for?”

“Payback.”

You say holding out your pinky as a reminder. “I thought we were even.” He shrugs, sporting a smirk that makes your stomach churn. It should be illegal for someone to look that good with a smirk.

“Excuse me?”

Fuck. Did you say that outloud?

“Nothing.” You quickly mutter, shaking your head. He invites himself to sit down next to you.

“Anyway, what’s wrong with you?”

You groan at the reminder. “Multi.”

“Multivariable calculus?” He asks to which you nod. “Who do you have?”

“Lubinsky.”

Defying all laws of reason and physics, Jeonghan perks up a bit. “Oh, I loved him.”

“His quizzes are impossible.”

“Yeah, but he’s funny.”

You scrunch your noise. “When did you even take multi? Aren’t you a business major?”

He tilts his head at you. “How do you know my major?” You might’ve asked Soonyoung about Jeonghan during one of your study sessions, but you definitely weren’t about to admit that now. Luckily for you, he continues without an answer. “I switched majors last year.”

“Then you must know how much I despise sketching in three axes.” You complain, throwing your head back against the wall.

“Just wait until you get to finding extrema.” Jeonghan hums. You want to shove your head through the damn wall just from the sound of it.

“May my grade rest in peace in that case,” you mutter, fishing through your bag. “Here’s your shirt back.”

He takes it. “So people kind of think we’re dating after the party.”

You can’t help it. You laugh at the look on his face. “Yeah, what did you expect when you said we were together?” He doesn’t say anything. “Don’t worry. I’ll clear the air.”

He furrows his brows at you. “What? No. That’s not what I mean. I…” he hesitates, scratching an area behind his neck. “Well, this past week has been surprisingly calm for me. Not a ton of confessions.” (“Oh, poor Jeonghan,” you murmur.) He looks at you hopefully, “So, I was thinking we keep up the charade.”

You make a noise. “Like fake dating?”

“Yes.”

“Haha, very funny.”

“No, seriously.” He says earnestly. You don’t say anything for a moment just staring at him flabbergasted. He softens, giving you a very soft, “please,” paired with big, brown, pleading eyes.

Goddamn it–those eyes.

You turn your body towards him. “What do I get out of it?”

“I’ll tutor you.” He says, pointing to your quiz grade. You flip the paper upside down. “I got an A in multi.”

“No one makes an A with Lubinsky.”

“Which is exactly why you want me as your tutor.”

You think about it for a moment longer, and, well…

Fake dating Yoon Jeonghan can’t be the worst thing in the world.

—

As you find out during your first session, Jeonghan is not what you’d call a ‘chill’ tutor. You’re both sitting in a far corner of the library, notes splayed out all over the table.

“Do it again.”

“Jeonghan please, we’ve been finding directional derivatives and unit normal vectors for so long now. Let’s take a break.”

He points to your worksheet. “One more.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

“I thought you wanted an A.”

“You know, a C isn’t sounding so bad right now.”

“Just do it.”

You groan and set up another integral.

To your complete and utter shock, you’re able to solve the problem all on your own. No clarifying questions to Jeonghan. No flipping through your lecture notes. Just you and the answer.

Jeonghan checks it over, eyes darting between your notebook and his laptop. He pauses for a minute, finger lingering by your boxed, final answer, before very quietly saying, “look at that.” He looks up to you, eyes widened and lips pursed together in a pleasant surprise.

You can barely contain yourself. “It’s right?”

“Well,” he draws out the word, sitting back in his chair and erasing his previous expression. “You still rounded wrong at this step—“

You throw your pencil down. “I’M RIGHT!”

Which unsurprisingly earns you a couple dirty looks from others.

He snickers at your excitement, offering you silent applause at the achievement.

“So can we take a break now?”

He looks at you for a long moment. You stare at him back, shaking your shoulders as if that would convince him of a break. He smiles. “Okay, fine, but only for ten minutes.”

You end up taking it on the roof of the library building, eating an assortment of snacks that you bought from the vending machine and Jeonghan brought from home.

“So, tell me,” you start, grabbing a chip from the bag, “the confessions can’t really be that bad, can they?”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean,” you sit up in your chair, stretching out your back, “enough for you to spend your Thursday afternoon doing all this?”

“Ah.” He exhales, sitting down further in his seat and popping a grape in his mouth. “Well, I like to teach.”

“And what about the whole fake dating ruse?”

He shrugs. “It’s easier than being the asshole that says no.”

You lean forward, squinting at him. “I don’t believe that.”

He cocks his head. “No?”

You shake yours. “No.”

“What about you then?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “How come I know nothing about you?”

“How come you haven’t asked?”

He swipes his tongue over his lips briefly, sizing your question up. Quietly, he says, “Touche.” Then leads forward in his seat and asks if you have an ex.

You steal a grape. “Not an official one.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that there was this guy before university, and we were…” you push the grape in your mouth, letting the burst of it give you time to find the right words. They never come. “We were something,” you settle on, “but he just ended up being more trouble than he was worth. Ask Soonyoung. He’s always hated the guy’s guts.”

“I can’t imagine Soonyoung hating anyone.” Jeonghan muses, pushing the tupperware of grapes towards you.

“Yeah, well, Soonyoung hated people who treated others like they were disposable.”

“So why’d you date him then?”

For a moment, you’re taken aback by the question. Replaying the words over and over in your mind looking for a hint of mockery or judgment. You don’t find any. Instead, you find his brows knitted together, and his lips pushed to the side of this mouth. The question is genuine. A wholehearted curiosity that feels so misplaced coming from the guy who has suitors falling at his feet at least once a day. It’s an innocent kind of curiosity that isn’t trying to pry; it’s only trying to understand. And that thought, the very idea that Jeonghan might actually be trying to get to know you, makes your entire body inexplicably shiver.

The curiosity in his voice bends over and touches yours. “What? You’ve never been young and stupid before?”

He shakes his head. “I was so focused on school and soccer when I was younger. I feel like I never gave myself the chance to just do dumb things, date shitty people, etc. etc.”

Gravely, you say. “It’s really not that exciting.”

He laughs. “I know.” His voice dips. “I just wish I had figured that out myself.”

Jeonghan doesn’t meet your eyes when he says it, but he makes this face, this sad-eyed, forced smile face that makes him look so suddenly vulnerable. Like you could tap his shoulder and watch him unravel from head to toe. You feel a rush of pity in the middle of your chest, a quiet urge to reach over and give him all the teenage regrets he never got to have. Instead, you lean towards him and say, “You’re still young. You can still do dumb things. Date shitty people.”

His eyes flit up to you. You notice what a beautiful shade of brown they are. How big they are. How sincerely sad they look. (And you know, somewhere, in a very far corner of your mind, that those eyes will be the ultimate death of you.)

“Well, I don’t know about that last part.” He starts, rubbing his hands against his jeans. “Technically, I’m dating you.”

You place your palm on your chest. “And I swear to be the shittiest fake partner you’ll ever have.”

He smiles. The sun emerges from behind a cloud. And his eyes–you swear to god–they glimmer.

—

You and Jeonghan’s first outing as an official fake couple is back at the frat house. To your surprise Jeonghan stays by your side the entire time. He takes you around the house, gets you a drink, and introduces you to his friends, but you’re quick to shoot down any shock because what else would a fake boyfriend be doing at a party. Although it’s not as easy to calm down the beating of your heart when Jeonghan’s hand finds its way into yours at some point in the night. By the time the party is in full swing, people bursting from every open door and window in the house, you’re already a little tipsy.

You’re getting a refill for your nearly done drink when another girl appears in front of Jeonghan. From the way she’s twirling her hair between her fingers and leaning into one hip, you can tell that, at least from her end, it’s more than just a friendly conversation. But even that doesn’t really explain what makes you act the way you do. Maybe it’s the alcohol, you reason. Or maybe the fact that Jeonghan’s popularity is just as contagious as the rest of him. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s that you’ve gotten a little too invested in this whole fake dating act. Either way, you swallow reason with the last of your drink, strut up to the both of them, and latch yourself to Jeonghan’s side, letting your arm wrap around his. You give the girl a snotty ‘sorry, he’s taken’ before dragging Jeonghan away, giggling into your palm with no intention to return. When you look back at Jeonghan, you find him looking quite amused as well.

“That was good!” He tells you by the time you’re both in the hallway. “But you know what would really seal the deal?”

You’re excited. Fake dating is fun. “What?”

“If we kissed?”

“Oh, please.” Your eyes do a drunken loop de loop. “I’m gonna go get my refill.”

“No, seriously.” He says with a look you can’t quite comprehend. “Look. She’s still watching.”

You look beyond his shoulder and sure enough, the girl is still watching you and him in the hallway. And she looks pissed. Maybe Jeonghan wasn’t that far off with the stalker accusation.

“You see what I have to deal with. Just one kiss. We probably won’t even have to do it again after this.”

“Probably?” You echo.

“Well, yeah, I can’t make any promises.” He shrugs except that you barely hear the words because you’re too focused on taking a tiny step back each time he takes a tiny step towards you. Eventually, the charade ends. Your heel and head meet the wall. His knee meets yours.

You’re painfully aware of your own breathing when you say, “When I said to be young and stupid this is not what I meant.”

He giggles in your face. You can smell the vodka on his breath. Is he drunk? Are you?

“Who’s going to believe we’re dating if we never kiss?”

And well, you can’t really argue with that logic. “Fine, but keep it short.”

He cocks his head to the side. “Do I look like the kind of guy to keep a kiss short?” You snort at that, and when he takes yet another step closer to you, your hands instinctively fly up against his chest. He tangles his fingers between yours and pulls your hands down, resting his forehead against yours. “Hey,” he says except that he’s so close it’s more like he exhales the word and inhales you, “can I kiss you now?”

He lets go of your hands, as if he’s making sure you know you have an out. Your eyes flit up to his, only to find that he’s watching your lips.

“Oh, fuck it,” is what you say before you fist his shirt and pull him in so that his lips meet yours.

And the moment you do all of your previous precautions are thrown out the window because—dang how long has it been since you’ve kissed someone?

Somewhere along the kiss, you lose yourself in the sensation of it, tugging on Jeonghan’s shirt. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in until your bodies are flush against each other. And when he slips his tongue into your mouth you tell yourself you allow it to happen because you’re tipsy or touch starved or both. Although none of those excuses explain why your arms snake around his neck and why your entire body turns to jelly when he moans in your mouth.

“Hey lovebirds,” you hear Soonyoung yell from somewhere thousands and thousands lightyears away, somewhere so far away you barely hear it, “get a room.” You both pull away from the kiss, faces only moving a tiny bit apart. Neither of you try to remove yourselves from the other's arms. He smiles, wide enough that his cheek brushes up against your nose, and it makes you forget where you are. Your ears betray you. You let yourself think he’s talking about the kiss and not the charade when he says, “Thanks for that.”

You throw caution to the window, laughing freely against his face. “Asshole. You knew I wouldn’t say no.”

He steps back, pulling away from your embrace. “Yeah,” he mutters, looking back to the main room, “that should do it.” You follow his eyes to see the girl from earlier whispering to a friend while sneaking glances at you two. You’re reminded of the whole reason you and Jeonghan were kissing in the first place.

He points to your cup. “Shot?”

You laugh—or well at least you try to—but it gets caught in your throat and distorted into a small cough. You swallow. “Yes.”

—

Thankfully, things aren’t awkward between you and Jeonghan after the party, although there’s no real reason for there to be other than the fact that you agreed to fake date him without really thinking about what else it would implicate. In fact, things are sort of easy with Jeonghan. He finds you around campus more often, and you find him too, walking each other to class and grabbing coffee when you both have a spare moment. In the midst of getting a fake boyfriend, you also get a new friend. With Jeonghan’s help, you actually start understanding math enough to complete the homework without having to flip back to the textbook every question. And it’s not too long after the party that you’re planning your next outing as a couple.

—

The stands of the field are absolutely packed with people. You had no idea soccer games rallied this much interest at your school.

“We’re playing a top ranked school apparently,” Soonyoung reads off a sign as you both make your way towards the student section. Luckily, he knows as little about the sport as you do. “So, why exactly did you agree to fake date Jeonghan?”

“He’s tutoring me in multi.” You explain to him, scanning the stands. While walking over to the game, you had told Soonyoung about the whole act, confirming what he already started to suspect when you first suggested going to the soccer game together. (“Drunken makeout I get.” Soonyoung had said. “But going to his games seemed like a stretch.” You shoved him off the sidewalk.)

“At least you’re getting something out of it.” He snorts. “Who are we looking for?”

You show him the text from Jeonghan, telling you to sit with his friend. “Do you know him?”

Soonyoung looks into the crowd. “Him?” He asks, pointing to a guy waving you and him over. You inhale sharply, waving back. “So if it’s fake, why is Jeonghan having you meet his friends?” Soonyoung asks as you head over.

“He has his reasons.” You offer, having asked a similar question yourself. You reach the stand where his friend is seated, crossing past the others in the row and gently apologizing as you bump into dozens of knees.

“Hi, I’m Joshua.” Jeonghan’s friend introduces himself as you and Soonyoung take your seats. You return the greeting, introducing yourself to him. Looking around the student section, you notice everyone else dressed in school merchandise. “Was I supposed to wear school colors for this?”

Soonyoung gives you a long look. Then just laughs in your face.

“Asshole.” You grumble quietly. “Could’ve said something.”

Joshua laughs as well, although much less in-your-face than Soonyoung’s. “I’m surprised Jeonghan didn’t give you like a jersey to wear or something.”

You had meant the asshole in question to be Soonyoung, not Jeonghan, but you don’t really have the heart to correct him. Instead, while waiting for the game to start, you ask, “How do you know Jeonghan?”

“Oh, we met freshman year. We both rushed the frat together, but I dropped after one semester.” Soonyoung pops in then, telling Joshua about when he rushed, and the two boys talk about other people they both mutually know. As one does.

They run out of people after a person named Jihoon. Joshua turns back to you. “How did you and Jeonghan meet? I haven’t even gotten the full story yet.”

“We met through Soonyoung, technically, I guess. At the house during a party. Soonyoung let me into his bathroom.”

Joshua nods, and with a playful lilt adds, “not a stalker, are you?”

You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth and turn back to Soonyoung on the other side of you. “I hope you know I’m never beating the stalker allegations because of you.”

Soonyoung smiles smugly at you.

“No, I’m kidding,” Joshua says through a laugh hidden behind his palm. “I just know how paranoid Jeonghan is about that stuff now.”

The wording pokes at a corner of your mind. “Now?”

Joshua nods, solemnly almost. “He actually had one last year. Didn’t end up being anything seriously endangering luckily. But he barely left his dorm for the rest of the semester after all was said and done.”

You think back to your conversation with Jeonghan on the roof of the library. You feel a familiar pang of pity bloom in your chest. He never got to just be young. Outloud, you hear yourself saying, “stupid.”

Joshua leans towards you. “What?”

You wave it off, and the crowd erupts into cheer. Everybody starts standing up, yelling and jumping and whooping. You hesitate for too long obviously. Soonyoung pulls you up by your arm. You see the team rush the field and the crowd gets impossibly louder. You look for Jeonghan among the players scanning each of them until you find him towards the left side of the field, warming up or something. You’re not really sure. Either way, you hear yourself start cheering when you find him, hands cupping around your mouth. The game starts soon enough with Joshua explaining to you and Soonyoung which position Jeonghan plays and what the hell is happening each time a player receives a card. After the first 15 minutes, you actually get a pretty good understanding of the whole thing.

The first half comes to a close with the opposing team up by one goal and Jeonghan’s team looking exhausted and dispirited.

“Hey, I gotta head out.” Soonyoung tells you once everything has settled down for halftime. “Still have to finish that chem lab due tonight.”

You grimace at the reminder of the report. “Good luck. It took me 5 hours.”

He gives you a miserable thumbs up. Then, turns his attention to Joshua. “It was nice to meet you.”

Joshua returns the sentiment. “I’ll see you at Tim’s once you’re done with the report though, right?”

Soonyoung’s lips turn to a fine line. “I, well, it’s a funny story but uh…”

“He’s banned from Tim’s.” You finish for him.

Joshua does not hide his shock. Soonyoung just shrugs and walks off. Joshua turns to you, exasperated. “But it’s the only bar in town.”

You inhale, “And Soonyoung is the type to get impulsively banned from it for the rest of college.” The answer doesn’t seem to do much of anything for Joshua’s profound confusion. “What’s at Tim’s tonight?”

“Oh, the team always goes there after games. They normally invite some friends too. Whoever can make it out basically.” You nod at his explanation, watching as people leave the stands then return, holding steaming, paper cartons of food. God, that smells good. You crane your neck to see. Are those corn dogs? “Did Jeonghan not tell you about it?”

“What?” He pulls you out of a trance of your own. “Oh, yeah, yeah. I think he mentioned it. I probably just forgot.”

Joshua chuckles politely. “So are you coming?”

Oh crap. “Uh, well…” A million lies run through your mind, chasing past one another, zigzagging in your brain. You have homework. You have other plans. You and Jeonghan aren’t even actually dating. Well—a million lies and one truth you guess. Either way, they all fizzle to nothing. Jeonghan didn’t tell you about the tradition at Tim’s. He probably doesn’t even want you there. So what the hell are you supposed to tell his best friend?

Luckily, you never have to figure that out. Fanfare erupts through the crowd, the announcer sounds throughout the entire field. “Oh the game’s restarting,” you mutter. Joshua is either genuinely disinterested in your response or just polite enough to not ask about it again. You have a crummy feeling it’s the latter.

The second half of the game is much more intense than the first. Your school’s team comes out blazing, scoring a goal in the first ten minutes in an insane effort led by the player with a 7 on his back. And the crowd, you included, absolutely lose their shit. You’re jumping up and down on the stands, screaming at the top of your lungs, voice lost among the rest. The team rushes to the right corner of the field closest to the student section, colliding in hugs and jumps and screaming maybe even louder than the hundreds of you in the stands. You watch Jeonghan in the celebration, hair matted down with sweat, mouth ajar in a soundless cheer, embracing a teammate before ditching him to literally jump on top of another. Your yells turn to laughs. And before you know it, the game is back on, all players racing across the field in a mad dash. The ball goes flying. Penalty cards flying to nearly every player at least once. The entire student section is at the edge of their seats. Time seems to fly by with unified chants filling your ears and throat. There’s only 10 minutes left. The game is still in a tie, and you really don’t feel like sitting here for the extra time. Then, someone starts singing the school’s fight song. Eventually, the whole section is singing it. You included. It ignites something in the team.

The opposing team has the ball, dribbling it across the field and passing it back and forth. Out of nowhere, one of your school’s players appears right next to the opponent with the ball. He kicks the ball out from under the other player, taking him and the rest of the stands by surprise. The ball rolls from under his knees to another of your school’s players. Jeonghan’s teammate is in action immediately, sprinting away with the ball to the opposite side of the field, feet flying faster than your mind can even comprehend. And just as one of the opposing team’s members closes in on him, he punts the ball in the air and it flies and flies and flies. Your heart lurches. There’s no mistaking it–the ball is aimed for Jeonghan. 7 minutes left. Jeonghan receives the ball perfectly, immediately racing away with it towards the goal. An opponent chases after him, forcing him to head nearer and nearer to the touchlines. It all happens so fast. The other player kicks his feet out to steal the ball. Jeonghan crosses the ball over to another teammate. The teammate receives it with his head. He dribbles it forward for half a second and then shoots. Time nearly stops when he does. The goalie throws their entire body to block the ball, and every present body watches, stupefied, as the ball blows right past the goalie’s head and lands squarely within the goal.

And if you thought the previous goal’s celebration was loud, this one’s is deafening. The entire stadium roars in pride. Your school won. Jeonghan won. And you can’t stop fucking smiling.

—

Joshua convinces you to wait for Jeonghan and the rest of the team at Tim’s with him. You do. For matters of fake dating but also because you could really use a beer. Conversation with Joshua is fun and light. By the time you’re both on your second round, his politeness dims to tease you for your drink of choice. You see now why he’s one of Jeonghan’s closest friends.

There’s commotion towards the entrance. You turn your heads towards it and watch Jeonghan’s team rumble through the tiny door, yelling at god knows what and rushing to the bar.

Joshua stands to go say hi. You follow him, walking slightly behind. Jeonghan finds you before you both find him. He tackles Joshua first, hugging him from the side, and literally ‘whooping’ into his ear. Joshua smacks at his face at first, but eventually joins him in the repeated ‘whooping’ jumping up and down in celebration. Then Jeonghan sees you. The whooping fades. He stares.

You swallow.

“Yah!” He exclaims, releasing Joshua and pointing a finger at your shirt. “I thought I told you to wear the jersey I gave you.”

Your face drops. Whatever happened to ‘hi’, ‘hello’, ‘how are you’?

Joshua says something about the bathroom and walks to the back of the bar.

You shake your head at the remaining boy. “It’s a little bit concerning how good you are at lying, you know.”

“Well, we can’t have people suspecting us.” He retorts, stepping closer to you as someone passes behind him.

“Is it okay that I’m here?” You ask, quiet enough for no one else to hear, face scrunching. “I didn’t know what to say to Joshua earlier, but I can definitely make up a lie if you want to just–”

“Are you kidding?” He grabs you by the shoulders, shaking you back and forth. “I want you here! We have to celebrate. This was the biggest game of the season, and we won it!” Then, with that same crooked smile you noticed upon first meeting, he adds, “Plus, you’re not very good at lying.”

You scoff. “Even now, you have the capacity for assholery.”

His eyebrows zip together. “I don’t think that’s a word.”

“It could be.”

Someone pats Jeonghan on the back, handing him a drink. Jeonghan asks what it is. The other person tells him to just drink it. Jeonghan does so begrudgingly. You recognize the person to be player number 7.

“Hi, I’m Seungcheol,” number 7 says to you, holding out his hand. You shake it, introducing yourself and congratulating him on the game.

“Hey, is assholery a word?” Jeonghan asks his teammate, watching your face contort through a thousand different variations of annoyance and disbelief.

Seungcheol looks between the two of you. “Uh, no. Don’t think so.”

“Ha!” Jeonghan wags a finger in your face. “You owe me a drink.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but you head towards the bar with Jeonghan anyways, where you find Joshua again ordering the three of you a round of shots. “No, no,” he insists, when you try to tell him that you’re already buying drinks, “I owe Jeonghan a drink anyways.”

And as you find out throughout the course of the night, apparently every other patron at Tim’s owes Jeonghan a drink. You lose count of how many times you’ve heard him say so after your third beer. Joshua makes his exit soon after that and conveniently right before the team starts singing the fight song again. You start dreaming of bed when a guy you recognize as number 3 gets on a chair and starts leading the crowd.

Your phone buzzes.

Soonyoung [1:23 AM]: finished the report :0

Soonyoung [1:23 AM]: finally

Soonyoung [1:24 AM]: how’s tim’s

You [1:24 AM]: did you know they had a karaoke machine?

Soonyoung [1:25 AM]: do you not remember how i got banned in the first place

You [1:25 AM]: sore subject mb

You [1:27 AM]: damn how’d you finish the report so fast

You [1:27 AM]: you only started it after the game right

Soonyoung [1:28 AM]: u know me xD

An odd feeling settles in your stomach as they start the last stanza of the fight song. You shove your phone in your pocket and ask for the check.

By 2 am, the celebration is finally winding down, and the entire team is collectively too drunk to stand. “Come on, Jeonghan,” you pull him away as he says goodbye to his friends for the millionth time. “Let’s go home.”

He finally relents, turning away from his friends and throwing both his arms over your shoulders, hugging you from the back. “Let’s go to yours.”

“Mine? Why?”

“It’s closer.” Then after a moment, he bumps his chin against your shoulder and adds, “Plus, I wanna see your room.”

“Fine,” you huff and start walking. Jeonghan releases himself from your back, electing to walk on his own until you realize he’s too much of a wanderer to be unattached, drifting off to the edge of the sidewalk or in the wrong direction every chance he gets. He asks you to carry him. You settle for holding his hand. The two of you walk quietly back to your dorm. That is until Jeonghan starts humming the fight song again. You snap. “Is that the only song you guys know tonight?”

He stops humming and apologizes. You don’t say anything back. Then, very quietly, sounding so infuriatingly innocent, he says, “I didn’t mean to get this drunk.”

You’re an asshole. “No. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m just a little… upset right now.”

He burps. “Because of me?”

The look on his face when he says it pulls a laugh from between your lips. “No. Not because of you.” You make a right onto your street, dragging Jeonghan along as he tries to take a left. “Anyway, I thought student athletes weren’t supposed to drink.”

“No, we’re not supposed to get caught drinking.” Jeonghan holds out his hand in front of him, as if to say ‘stop’ to something invisible to you. “Very different.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Either way, I don’t drink that much.”

You scoff, stopping in front of the door to your building. “What do you mean? You drank last weekend.”

He shakes his head. “That was a special occasion.”

“And the occasion was…?”

He looks you dead in the eye.

“You make me nervous.”

Then, he turns around and vomits into the bushes behind him.

Once you get him to your apartment and in your bathroom, you leave him to vomit out the alcohol. Returning after the retching sounds recede and you’ve changed into pjs. He’s seated on the floor beside the toilet, eyes closed and head resting against the wall. You sit on the other side. Thank god, you cleaned this bathroom yesterday. “How do you feel?” You ask him.

He inhales. “Much better now that I…” He gestures to the toilet.

“Here.” You hand him a glass of water.

He opens his eyes and takes it, drinking from it slowly. “Sorry I got so drunk.”

“You already apologized 30 times on the way up here.” You remind him.

“But I’m really sorry.”

“And I really don’t mind.”

He considers that for a long moment. “You sure?”

You lean forward. “I’m sure. More water?”

He shakes his head, wordlessly eyeing your pajama pants. You look down at your snoopy pants. You hadn’t thought too hard about your choice of bottoms when you changed. “Cute.” He mutters, smiling at them.

You mumble back a ‘thanks’.

“So, what’d you think of the game?”

You tell him honestly how much fun you had watching them play, giving him every reaction you had to every move made and all your unfiltered opinions on the refs. He listens intently, filling you in on all the thoughts that ran through his head while they were playing and every conversation that happened on the sidelines.

“Thanks for coming.” He tells you once you’ve both exhausted all opinions relating to the game itself. “And for meeting Joshua and coming out to Tim’s afterwards and then getting me out of Tim’s too.”

“Jeonghan, it’s really not that big of a deal. And Joshua was a lot of fun to hang out with.”

“Hey, don’t get too attached.” He warns. “I’m the one you’re fake dating.”

“Trust me, I know.”

“So, then, as your fake boyfriend,” he gulps down the last of the water, “are you going to tell me what you were so upset about?”

You exhale, flexing your fingers. “It’s stupid.”

“And here I was thinking we had made a pact to be young and dumb.” You run your tongue over your top row of teeth, holding back a smile. “So, what happened?”

“I just got this text from Soonyoung that he finished this one assignment. And, I don’t know, I just felt so ridiculous because it took me so much longer than him to do.”

“Which assignment? The chem lab?”

You don’t remember telling Jeonghan about it. “Uh, yeah. How did you–”

“Man, who cares if it took you longer? I know Soonyoung, and I know you, and I bet yours is a million times better than his. No offense to Soonyoung, but I’m pretty sure he’d agree anyways.”

“Okay, you’re drunk.”

“That may be true, but it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re brilliant.”

Something about the way he says it, how steady his voice is maybe or the way he refuses to look away, forces you to see how much he believes it. But even that, doesn’t do much to change what you think.

“What are you talking about? I wouldn’t even be passing multi if it weren’t for you.” Your voice cracks as you say the words, making it all come out sounding much sadder than you had intended it to. You hope he doesn’t notice.

“That’s really not true.” You can’t even trust yourself to respond to him. He pouts. “Are you upset again?”

“A little.”

“I’m sorry. Let’s drop it.”

“Gladly.” Then, after a moment, you laugh at how silly it all is.

“First fight of the relationship.” He gives you your second half smile of the night. “I think we should hug it out.”

Your body reacts to the words before you do. “I disagree–”

“Did you just cringe?”

“–you smell like vomit.”

“Well, do you have clothes for me?”

“No, but I have a couch.”

He holds his index finger up. “I’ll take it.”

—

(When you wake up the next morning, Jeonghan’s gone. You open your phone and find 2 more apologies and 3 more thank you’s from him.

You try to ignore the twinge of disappointment.)

—

When the third weekend of fake dating rolls around, you admittedly are a bit tired of going to parties and getting drunk. So when Jeonghan asks what the plans are, you suggest he say that he’s taking you out on a date instead.

As such, you’ve spent nearly the entire day in bed. You’re heating up some water on the stove to make ramen when you get a text from Jeonghan saying he’s five minutes away. You stare at the text. The fuck does that mean?

Unsurprisingly, it ends up meaning that he was literally five minutes away. You open the door when he knocks and stare at him standing in the doorway.

“What are you wearing?” Is the first thing he says. You look down at your outfit. “You should’ve told me this was going to be a sweats kind of date before I put real clothes on.”

“Date?”

“Don’t look so surprised, it was your idea.” Jeonghan reminds you, strutting into your kitchen.

“No, no.” You say, returning to your boiling water. “My idea was to tell people we’re going on a date. Like as a cover.”

“Oh.” He falls down onto your couch. “Well I’m here so get dressed there’s this new ramen place I wanna try.”

You sigh, turning the stovetop off before trudging to your room to change.

The ‘date’ ends up being quite nice. You discuss a study plan to prepare for your math midterm over a much yummier bowl of ramen than you had planned on consuming today. Afterwards, you walk the streets of downtown, only intending to window shop. However, now, standing in a small boutique, Jeonghan tries to convince you to buy matching necklaces.

“Come on, they’re so cute.”

“We don’t need matching necklaces, Jeonghan.”

“A real couple would definitely have matching necklaces.”

“Good thing we’re not one.”

“Fine then. Guess I’ll just stop tutoring you in math too. You know Lubinsky’s midterms are almost as hard as his finals, right?”

You grab two of the necklaces and turn to the cashier. “How much?” You swear you hear Jeonghan whoop from behind you.

—

“Hey,” Jeonghan whispers, “we’re here.” You open your eyes slowly, not even registering that you fell asleep on the ride back to campus after the date-but-not-date. “You drool when you sleep by the way.”

And that wakes you up. You wipe whatever drool is left on your mouth, muttering a small and embarrassed ‘shut up’.

“What are you doing for the rest of your day?” He asks as you gather your things from his car.

“Absolutely nothing. Today’s the last day to rot before midterm prep starts.” You tell him, looking for your wallet. “What about you?”

“Avoiding a mixer at the house tonight.” He reaches into the center console and hands you the leather slip.

You take the wallet gratefully. “Wanna join me? We can make some tea. Watch a movie.”

He puts the car in park. “I know just what we should watch.”

And that’s how you end up on your couch with Jeonghan, two emptied mugs sitting on the coffee table, blanket draped over your legs, and the worst movie you’ve seen to date playing in the background.

“Wow, this movie sucks ass.”

“This,” Jeonghan gestures passionately to the screen, “is cinema.” You clasp your hands together as if in prayer. He takes a double take at the motion. “What are you doing?”

“I’m thanking god that your major is business and not film.” He immediately smacks apart your hands. “Don’t lie.” You say gasping for air between laughs. “This movie is objectively not good.”

His tongue peeks out between his lips, you practically see the smiling begging to emerge on his face. “Okay, so it might not be all that it was hyped up to be, but–”

“Ha!” You point a finger in his face. “I knew you hated it.” He slumps into the couch, pulling the blanket up to his chin. “Do you want more tea?” You ask. He soundlessly nods, refusing to move his eyes from the tv screen.

You stand to make some, grabbing both mugs from the table. “So, do you not have a roommate?” Jeonghan questions, as you pour water from the kettle into the mugs.

You look to the second, empty room of your apartment style dorm. “Actually, no. There was supposed to be someone there, but they moved or dropped out at the start of the year and the school never filled the room.”

“Ah.” Jeonghan clicks, nodding as if finally putting together the last piece of a puzzle “So, that’s why you’re so friendless.”

You return to the couch with full mugs. “I am not friendless.” He makes a face. “Really. I have friends.”

“Other than Soonyoung?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, name them.” You kick him under the blanket. “Fine. You have friends.” (“I have friends.”) “But how come you never talk about hanging out with them?”

You exhale slowly, sinking further into the couch. “I just didn’t do too well in school last semester, so I promised myself I would focus on classes this time around. And, I don’t know, I guess I just got so caught up in that and haven’t really been making the time or effort for hangouts.”

He tilts his head. “You know, I feel like there’s a world where you can do well in school while also maintaining your friendships. I mean we see each other regularly.”

“That’s because half of the time we’re studying.”

He gives you a look. “You know what I mean.”

You sigh, considering his point. Maybe at one point you would have thought the same. Last semester you even tried to have it all–the friends, the social life, the grades. But in the end, you dropped the ball. You can’t afford to make those same mistakes. “I just don’t think that world exists for me.”

He finally looks away from the tv and gives his full attention to you. His eyes seem to linger on every turn in your face. Quietly, he says, “So that’s what it is.” He doesn’t offer an explanation immediately. Instead, his chest deflates in one long exhale, and you smother the voice in your head that’s begging you to ask for one. And there’s this conviction in his voice, this breathtaking finality, when he says, “When are you going to believe me when I say that you’re one of the smartest people I know?” that scares the living shit out of you.

He looks at you again, and you swear to god, his eyes fall right through your frame. You swallow. “What about you?”

His eyebrows raise. “What about me?”

“Who are your friends? How do you spend all your time apart from classes, soccer, the frat, tutoring me and–oh my god, nevermind, new question. Do you even sleep?”

He takes a sip from the tea. “Don’t forget the business honor society. I’ll be the treasurer next fall.”

You squint at him. “Why?”

And like it’s the simplest, most obvious thing in the world he says, “oh, well, they asked.”

Suddenly, you’re reminded of all the times you’ve seen him get asked out on dates followed by every time he’s failed to say no. “Jeonghan,” you turn to him, setting down your mug. (“oh, this is serious, okay.”) You ignore him. “Can you not say no to people?”

He blows a raspberry. “I can say no. Ask me something.”

“Uhhhh,” you rack your brain, “how about–let’s go to the beach next weekend.”

The closest beach is 5 hours away, and yet he has the audacity to say, “Wait, that sounds like fun though.”

“I thought you hated the ocean.”

“Yeah, but maybe it’d be fun with you.”

You shake your head, muttering how impossible he is. The end credits of the movie finally plays.

“I should head out.” Jeonghan says, removing himself from under the blanket. You nod, grabbing the mugs of tea and bringing them to the kitchen. He follows you to the door. You both exchange the usual ‘this was fun’, ‘let’s do it again’, ‘I’ll see you later’ that ends every hangout you’ve had in college. But then, unlike every other person you’ve held the door open for as they leave, after Jeonghan says his final goodbye, he gives you a peck on the lips.

Did that just happen?

Your fingers touch against your lips. Oh my god, it did.

He blinks. “Sorry. I, uh, I don’t know why I just,” he points to your lips, swallowing, “lol. We’re always pretending and then now. And you. Okay, well, anyways, I’ll leave.”

He turns and doesn’t look back. You hear a ‘bye’ sound from the hallway.

And it’s only by the time he’s probably halfway home that it hits: You’ve never seen Jeonghan flustered like that.

—

The first day of midterm prep is brutal. You spend the entire night in the library, studying for hours on end. And once an hour, on the dot it seems, you hear Jeonghan’s voice in your head. There’s a world where you can do well in school while also maintaining your friendships. That very night you text your friends, asking if they want to join you in one of the library study rooms you have booked every evening this week. They do, excited to hear from you again and for the gentle encouragement to get a head start on studying. You hate to admit that Jeonghan was right, but goddammit he was. You have a blast with your friends. You had barely even realized how long you’d gone without seeing them and how much you missed them. By the time your Thursday afternoon tutoring with Jeonghan comes back around, you’re still on track with the study plan you created over ramen, and you have exciting news for him.

“A birthday party?” Jeonghan says, voice carefully devoid of the disdain you must know he feels.

“Yeah, they heard through whoever that we’re dating, and now they all want you to come.”

“But a birthday party?” He repeats. This time not trying to hide anything.

“Oh come on. I went to the game for you.”

“Yeah, but the game was fun.”

“This will be fun too!” You say in what you hope is an encouraging way.

“Fine. But promise you won’t ditch me for your friends.”

“You’re so dramatic.” You mutter. “But yes, I promise.”

That Friday night Jeonghan meets you at your apartment and the two of you head over to the party together.

Halfway down the hallway to your friend’s apartment, Jeonghan suddenly halts. “Shit, should I have brought something?”

“Like what?”

“A gift? Wine? I don’t know.”

“Jeonghan, it’s a party. Don’t overthink it.” You tell him, opening the door to your friend’s apartment.

You step into her entryway and immediately feel like you’ve been transported into another world. The lights are all off save for some LED lights wrapped around the living room ceiling. An assortment of stacked red solo cups, yak-worthy bottles of vodka, and seltzers take over all available kitchen counter space. Some old pop song from an artist you know your friend loves plays loudly from the tv, reverberating through every pair of ears shoved into this tiny apartment. You inhale. The air reeks distinctly of college. You love it.

“Oh my god, there’s even people on the balcony.” Jeonghan whispers in your ears. You pivot your head around to look at him. He looks back at you, unassuming. “What?”

This entire scene is one you’re quite familiar with, having spent many nights just like this in previous semesters. But as you watch Jeonghan gape at the amount of people fitted into the kitchen alone, you figure he might not be as acquainted with this. “Yoon Jeonghan, is this your first apartment party?”

He cocks his head to the side. “Is it not yours?”

But before you can tell him all about the life you used to live before him, your friends find you attacking you with hugs and introducing themselves to Jeonghan.

Jenny, the birthday girl in question, sloppily points at both of you and says, “I’ve been drinking since noon. You need to catch up.”

After a minute of half-hearted protest, you oblige, heading over to the kitchen area. You grab two cups, handing Jeonghan one. “There’s soda over there if you’re not drinking tonight,” you tell him, pointing to the area beside the sink where a line of mixers await.

He looks over at the bottles, then looks back at you. “Are you drinking?”

“Yes!” Your friend Daniel yells from over the music. You just shrug, reaching for one of the handles. “I guess so.”

Jeonghan inhales sharply, holding out his cup for you to pour. “I’ll have what you’re having then.”

You hesitate, open bottle hovering over the lip of his cup. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Why?”

You frown. “I was thinking about what you said after the game about how you don’t drink that much, and I don’t want you to drink just because I am. I can not drink too.”

He pushes his cup up. “What was it you said earlier? It’s a party. Don’t overthink it.”

Then he gives you that crooked half smile that you’ve come to know so well. You pour him a drink and pour yourself one too. You turn back to your friends, holding up your cup for a cheers.

“Wait, wait, what are we cheersing to?” Daniel asks, grabbing his cup from behind him and holding it up, tapping on Jenny’s shoulder for her to do the same.

It’s Jeonghan who answers. Looking straight at you, he holds his cup up high and says, “To friends.”

You bring the drink up to your lips smiling, watching him watching you. All four of you down your drinks. The drink is absolutely terrible, burning a path down your throat all the way down. Jeonghan hands you another cup, whispering ‘it’s coke’ with an equally pained expression on his face. You take it gratefully.

“God,” Jenny says, placing a hand on her chest while watching the exchange between you and Jeonghan, “they’re like an old married couple already. How have we missed all this?”

“I know.” Daniel says, shaking his head. “I can still barely believe it.”

You glare at him. “Hey, what’s so hard to believe?”

They both ignore you, turning their attention to Jeonghan instead.

“So, we’ve heard all the boring–how you guys met, first date–sort of stuff, but we want to know the juicy details–”

“Jenny, don’t you have other guests to attend to or–”

“Yeah,” Daniel joins in, “like what’s your favorite thing about them?”

You turn to Jeonghan immediately. “You don’t have to answer that.”

“My favorite part,” Jeonghan starts, ignoring your plea to not humor them and tapping a finger on his chin in thought. He must find it after a moment, pausing the tapping and stealing a glance your way. “Probably how much fun I have with them.” He says to your friends. “I feel like we’re always laughing together or just having a good time. I’ve never been able to talk to someone as easily as I do with them. Like you know how when you get towards the end of a really good book, and you just can’t put it down, pushing everything else to the side to keep reading. Hanging out with them is like that.” Turning back to look at you, he adds, “I never want it to end.”

You hold his gaze while Jenny and Daniel erupt into a series of awes and exclamations. Deep in your gut, you know that you should be focusing on the kind smile on his face or the sudden rapidity in your heartbeat, but instead, more cruelly, you wonder how much of that was a lie he made up to appease the role of your fake boyfriend.

You turn to pour yourself another drink. He holds his cup out as well. You pour for two.

“You okay?” He asks, pouring some fruit punch into both your cups as well.

You nod. You have no reason to be upset. So taking a sip of the drink, you decide you’re not. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“We should play a game,” he says, taking a sniff of your jointly made concoction.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, like…” He looks around the apartment. “We have to drink every time we see someone kissing.”

“What kind of rule is that?”

“No. It’ll be fun.” He says, scanning the apartment again. He sucks in air between his teeth. “Damn, I thought there’d be more kissing than this for some reason.”

You laugh at his cluelessness, and then lean in to kiss his cheek. “There.” You say, clinking your cup against his. “Now, we can drink.”

He taps a finger to the tip of his nose twice, then points it at you, before taking two large gulps of his drink.

The game actually does a good job of getting you and Jeonghan drunk once Jenny catches wind if it and starts giving out birthday kisses to whoever will take one. After a while, you make the executive decision that you need a break and escape to the bathroom to piss. When you exit back into the hallway off the living room, Jeonghan is there, leaning against the opposite wall, waiting for you. He hands you your cup back. “Your friends are terrible, terrible enablers,” he says, motioning for you to drink up while taking a drink himself. You whimper, leaning against the wall beside him and readmitting the dreaded liquid to your body.

“So,” you bump your shoulder against his, “are you having fun?”

He shifts his entire body to face you, shoulder resting against the wall, back turned to the entire party. He puts his face right in front of yours, narrows his eyes at you playfully, and says, “did you even listen to what I said?”

You put a hand on his shoulder. Just to have something between his body and yours. “What?”

He grins cheekily, letting out a puff of air that smells like cherry. “I always have fun with you.”

You laugh. Then in a voice sober you would be embarrassed of, you say, “And you never want it to end?”

He sticks his tongue out just barely, laughing into your neck. “And I never want it to end.”

You kiss him.

You don’t stop to think about what it might mean tomorrow or even in the next hour. You don’t stop to think about the fact that you’re too drunk to be initiating kisses or the possibility that he is. You don’t stop to think about anything, other than how much you love the sound of his laugh and how badly you want to feel his lips on yours again.

The kiss starts slowly, a shy orchestration of lips and breath. Your nose bumps against his, and he pulls away. He looks at you with those damn eyes, like it’s the first time all over again. And for some reason you can’t explain you bitterly think that it was always going to end like this.

He cups his free hand against your cheek and pulls you back in. Your lips meet in an open-mouthed kiss that has nothing slow and shy about it. No. It’s sloppy, hurried, and hungry. It’s tongue and teeth, crashing and colliding over and over again. It’s your body against his, every rise of your chest battling against his You wrap your free hand against his torso, pulling him impossibly closer. His hand moves from where it was holding your face to travel over the back of your head and your neck, sliding halfway down your back before pulling forward to run from your waist down to your hip. It lingers there for a moment before continuing further to grip the back of your thigh, pulling your knee up the side of his leg and holding it there against his hip.

A commotion sounds from the living room. “Oh shit.” You say breathlessly, pulling away from him. “I think she’s going to pop the champagne.”

“Okay.” He breathes, before kissing you again. You laugh in his mouth, whispering his name and pushing a hand against his chest. Finally, he lets go of your leg. You lead him back to the rest of the party where everyone is crowding around the balcony entrance. You and Jeonghan stand in the living room, watching from the window as Jenny struggles to pop the cork. She gets it after a moment, yelping at the sudden burst and spraying it over the edge of the balcony. Once the champagne dies down enough to not be overflowing, she brings the bottle to her lips and chugs. Everyone counts.

1! Jeonghan steps closer to you, wrapping his arms around your torso and hugging you from the back. You have to remind yourself to catch your breath.

2! He rests his chin on your shoulder. Without even thinking about it, you rest your head against his. His voice is a warm breath on your neck.

3! You recall what he said to your friends at the start of the party and again to you right before the kiss. Did he mean it? Does he really not want this to end?

4! Your eyes glance over at his. He looks happy. He looks like he’s finally given himself the chance to be young and stupid, which from the start, is all you ever wanted for him. So then why does it make you feel so suddenly grief-stricken?

5! “Why didn’t you tell Joshua about us?” You ask him quietly, voice drowned out by the counting for everyone other than him.

6! He angles his chin towards you. “What do you mean? He knows we’re dating.”

7! “No, I mean why didn’t you tell him that it’s fake.”

8! He stands up straight. Fuck the counting. You turn to look at him. “He’s your best friend, isn’t he?”

9! He looks at you carefully. “Did you tell Soonyoung that it’s all been fake?”

10! You haven’t even answered him yet, but somehow, he already knows what you’re going to say.

11! “Yes.” And even alcohol couldn’t have hidden the distinct look of betrayal painted all over his face.

12! He looks down into his cup and chuckles darkly. “Why did we just kiss?”

13! You swallow. Shit. “Someone was looking at you, like–well, you know what like.”

14! He doesn’t say anything. You recount his words back to him. “Sealing the deal, remember.”

15! His eyes bore into yours. How could you have been so stupid?

16! Please, you want to beg, say something.

17! He shakes his head, smiling emptily. “Tell your friends it was nice to meet them.”

18! He doesn’t wait to hear if you have anything left to say. He turns, and you watch him disappear from the party.

The rest of the numbers blur in your head.

—

(That night you had called Soonyoung, sobbing over the phone, feeling more drunk then, in your apartment than you had at any other point that night.

“What’s wrong?” Alarm was flush in his voice. “What happened? Are you okay?”

The only thing Soonyoung could even make out was a very sad, very quiet, “I ruined it.”)

—

You haven’t talked to Jeonghan since Jenny’s party. He hasn’t texted you either. Staring at your upcoming midterm on Thursday and the extra study session with Jeonghan scheduled for Wednesday, you feel, quite lamely, mocked by your own calendar. But more than anything, you’re mad that he’s left you to study all alone the week of your midterm. You’re mad that you’re so busy replaying that night in your head, you can barely pay attention to the practice tests. You’re mad that, right now, sitting at the spot you guys always sat at in the library, you don’t have him. And you’re terrified of the creeping thought that you never really did.

By the time the midterm does come around, you’re exhausted. Not from studying or lack of sleep, but just from the sheer willpower it’s taken all week to not think about Jeonghan. You feel oddly calm going into the exam, the usual anxious chatter of students around you and rattling of chairs and pencils, not freaking you out as much as it normally would. You take the midterm, one question at a time, just as Jeonghan instructed you to do with every homework and every quiz. And then, 40 minutes in, you finish. Astonishingly, you even have enough time left to check over your work. So you do, fixing minor rounding and calculation errors, until you’re faced again with a completed exam and 15 minutes left.

You get to do something you haven’t done since high school: you turn it in early.

—

You spend the rest of that day in between your bed and your couch, struggling even more now than before to ignore thoughts of Jeonghan and your last conversation with him. For the past several weeks, Thursday afternoons were monopolized by Jeonghan, but today, watching the sun set outside your window, you’ve spent it all alone. The finality of what happened last weekend finally hits you: you might never speak to Jeonghan again. You really did ruin it. Suddenly, the urge to weep overcomes you. You turn on the tv instead, looking for a movie to watch. And of course it must be fate's petty joke on you that the first movie that pops up is the one you watched with Jeonghan after your date. You groan into your pillow before switching to something else.

By the time the movie is almost over and the sun has fully set, your phone rings. You had been checking it obsessively earlier and had therefore set it a bit farther away from where you were sitting. But at the sound of the ring, you’re ashamed to admit that you literally leapt for it. Your mind reads the caller id and is instantly flooded with an odd mix of relief and anxiety. Jeonghan is calling. Holy shit, Jeonghan is calling.

Your voice is shaky when you answer. “Hello?”

“Hey, this is Jeonghan’s partner right?” Your mouth parts at the voice that most definitely does not belong to Jeonghan. Who is this man? Why does he have Jeonghan’s phone? Why does it hurt your heart so much when he calls you Jeonghan’s partner? You must sit in your shock for too long because the mystery caller speaks again, sounding somewhat annoyed. “This is Seungcheol from the team. This is who I think it is, right? Because your number was saved as ‘my cutie’ with like a million heart emojis, so if not, this is about to get really awkward.” You have no idea how to respond to that. Finally, Seungcheol says your name. “This is you, right?”

You inhale sharply. “Yeah, uhm, sorry yes. Is everything alright? Aren’t you guys at practice right now?”

“Yeah, well we’re about to end, but here’s the thing…” Seungcheol then explains how terribly Jeonghan’s been playing this week, overly aggressive, missing every pass, fucking up every cross. And today, halfway through practice he hurt his shoulder and the coach sat him out entirely, forcing him to sit on the sidelines and just watch. Safe to say, this did not go over well with him, and he’s been laying down on the bench head buried in his arms, snapping at everyone who approaches him ever since. Seungcheol had to use a fake emergency bathroom break as a chance to run away to the locker room and make this call. “Do you know what’s going on with him?”

Of course you know, and it’s all your fault. You really did ruin everything with one kiss. “I–”

“Fuck, I’m running out of time. Never mind that.” Seungcheol says, cutting you off. “Can you just come down and be here, when we get off practice? Jeonghan drove over so you both can take his car back, but I think he just really needs someone here with him today.”

You wince. “Seungcheol, actually, I–”

“No, no, please. You don’t understand. I think I saw him crying on the bench. He needs you. Come.” Then after a slight hesitation he adds, “If you can. Please.”

You don’t even know what to say, but it doesn’t matter because just then the call ends. You stare at your phone, considering the options. Stay here and wallow. Or go, and try to salvage everything you’ve broken. And while you are a very accomplished wallower, you know which one you have to do. You drag your feet all the way over to your room to change.

You pace outside the field waiting for them, running through every possible scenario in your head. It does nothing, only worsening the condition of your already ailing heart. You drop down onto the curb, holding your head in your hands. Maybe he won’t even see you like this. You can’t tell if you prefer or hate that possibility.

Something bumps into your back. You look up and find Jeonghan staring down at you. You stand up so quickly your head starts to spin. Looking at him, you realize that this is the longest you’ve gone without seeing or talking to each other since meeting. You hated every second of it. But you think you might hate the look on his face right now more.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, words devoid of all the little quirks that make him him.

“Seungcheol called me.”

His face twitches. “Why?”

“He said that you–” you halt, selfishly wondering if it’s too late to abandon this ship. “How’s your shoulder?”

He looks at it, rolling it out once. He shrugs. “It’s fine now.”

You nod.

He then surprises you by asking: “How was your midterm?” Your eyes widen, searching his face for… you’re not even sure what. You don’t find it anyways.

You shift your weight uncomfortably. “It went well actually.”

He nods.

“Do you want a ride back?

He scoffs quietly. You flinch. “Can you even drive?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“How would you get back to yours?”

“I don’t know. Walk. Or maybe a bus. Or I could even–”

He doesn’t even let you finish. Voice raising when he asks again, “Why are you here?”

The words come out before you can stop them, tone matching his. “Because I’m sorry!”

“For what?”

“For kissing you!” He drops his duffle bag on the floor. “I don’t know!”

He parts his lips, inhaling as if to speak, but then he looks straight in your eyes and loses every word he might’ve wanted to say. He picks up his duffle and walks over to his car. “Jeonghan, please say something. I miss you, and I hate this. I just want to at least talk about what happened before we never speak again.”

He shoves his bag into the backseat and slams the door shut. He points to the car. “You coming?”

“Where?”

“I’ll drop you home.”

You don’t even know why you let him, but you do, sliding in the passenger seat and waiting until the car is started and moving to say something.

Or at least, that was the plan. But then you lose all the nerves you built up on your walk over and keep quiet the entire drive back to your place. It’s only when he stops in front of yours, ignition shutting off, that they build back enough for you to say, “Jeonghan, I–”

“I’m not mad because of the kiss.” He finally says, voice much softer than before. His eyes stay trained on the dashboard. “The kiss was…” He chokes on the word while the tiniest of smiles breaks like light after a storm on his face. “The kiss was perfect.” Your stomach momentarily turns into a gymnast. “I’m not even mad at all. I’m just,” You lean in after the words, as if waiting to catch them in your hands. He shakes his head once and then turns to look at you fully. “I’m upset because you think this has all been fake when, if I’m being brutally honest, I haven’t been faking anything since that first party.”

Oh.

Oh.

Holy fucking shit.

He chuckles darkly, hitting his head lightly against the steering wheel. “Now, I know what it feels like to be on the opposite end of this.”

You can’t help yourself. “How is it?”

He groans. “It’s like a thousand stomach aches throughout your entire body.”

You want to take him out of his misery, but, “I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything.”

“I don’t think–”

“No, I’m serious.” He mutters. He looks pained. “Remember when you said that I can’t say no to people? This is it. I’m saying no.” He smiles at you, but you know his eyes too well and you know when there’s nothing in them. His breath catches. “I’m really happy about your midterm. I always knew you didn’t need me.”

He looks away after that, turning the car back on, an obvious signal for you to get out. Selfishly, you don’t. You take two more seconds to stare at his face, his eyes, his hair, his hands. Then you unbuckle your seatbelt and step out of the car.

He doesn’t wait long before he drives away.

You walk back up to your dorm in a stupor of sorts. You unlock the door, step through the kitchen, walk like a zombie to your room, and stare at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes travel over your whole frame, and for some reason they fall to rest at your neck. More specifically, your necklace.

You’re out of the door, running before you even know it. Breathlessly, turning onto the road that leads to the opposite side of campus. 30 minutes away. This of course turns out to be a terrible, terrible idea. You do not run. But you get there eventually. Speed walking up to the door of Jeonghan’s frat house and knocking vigorously.

Soonyoung happens to be the one that opens it. “Oh, hey! How was your–Why can’t you breathe?”

You ignore him. “Is Jeonghan here?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think he’s back from practice yet. Why? What happened? Did you guys make up yet?”

“No, but, Soonyoung, I’ve been so stupid. This whole time I kept gabbing on and on, but I was blind. It was him. It was always–”

You hear a familiar voice say your name. Not just familiar. Your favorite voice. You turn to face him.

And you can’t help it, you grin.

You’re distantly aware of Soonyoung closing the door behind you.

“How did you get here?”

“I ran.” He makes a face. “Well, partly.”

“I told you to–”

“I know what you said.”

“Fine.” He sighs. “I didn’t–well, not like this, but listen. It’s okay if you don’t care–”

“But the thing is Jeonghan,” you say, the sentences and words you had prepared on the way over blurring together all in a rush to get out of your head and into his, “I do. There was no one looking at you at Jenny’s party. I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I wanted it. I hate sports. Really, ask Soonyoung, but I went and watched your game and had fun because you asked me to and because I don’t have the capacity to actually say no to your face. I thought I hated that smirk you do, but really I just hate how flustered it makes me feel. And I’m sorry that I took the whole young and stupid thing too close to heart, but,” you pull the matching necklace out from under your shirt. “If I didn’t care, would I still be wearing this? Would I be able to stand here and tell you and I haven’t taken it off since we bought it? And that that date was the best date I’ve ever been on.” You let go of the necklace, inhaling sharply. “I care, Jeonghan.” Then, as if it needs to be clarified, you add, “about you.”

You stare at him, waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

He turns around, takes two steps away from you, and then immediately plops his ass on the ground. You hear a whimper. “I thought I was going to lose you.” You approach him slowly, like a cat you’re trying like hell not to scare. You kneel down on the pavement beside him. He wipes his tears. “Don’t laugh.” He cries, already sensing the one bubbling in your throat. You shake your head as a swear not to. Which you break a second after the fact, turning your head to the side, desperately trying to hide it behind your hand. “Bully!” He exclaims.

“No. No.” You say, composing yourself and turning back to him. His tears are wiped, but a pout remains on his face. You cup your hands against his cheeks. “It’s just really cute.”

“It’s embarrassing.” He huffs.

You shake your head. “I love it.” Then you kiss him. It’s a slow and sweet kiss. You relish in it. There’s no rush anymore. No deadline. He isn’t going anywhere. Neither are you. You have all the time in the world with him.

[satoruxx]

PARACOSM OF THE GODS.

PAIRING: gojo satoru x f!reader, geto suguru x f!reader | 11.5k words

SUMMARY: ok here we go, canon au, angst, fluff, best friends being in love, stsg being whipped but unable to express it, reader is clueless as usual, timeskips, canon compliant deaths, bittersweet, longing, mutual pining, emotionally stunted teens, dad!gojo makes an appearance, hopefully that’s it i'm tired of typing

RHEYA'S NOTE: highkey lowkey stressed posting bc this has been sitting in my wips for 4 years now. i honestly didn't have to add much to it i basically just proofread. but yeah when you maladaptive daydream and create a plot where you're a character in jjk and you're also in love with gojo and geto this is what happens. a little sad to let this go but it's time !! plus i can add more parts later. but anyways pls lmk what you think, i'm super curious to know <33

i. the unknown

satoru's first impression of you is anything but kind.  

his words come casually, free into the wind without care, and they aren't meant for you to hear. instead, they fall only to suguru's ears, evoking a deep chuckle and a slight shake of his head. his bangs swish a little with the movement, but satoru is too busy eyeing you over the frame of his shades to notice. 

you're lucky to have not heard it, because the intent with which it was said would have probably made your brow tick with frustration. he says it without a thought, as if he hasn't the slightest bit of interest in you as hints of arrogance fill his tone. 

"who's the rookie?" 

satoru and suguru sit outside against the patio railings of the classroom they had chosen for the day. it overlooks the grounds of the school, where they have a clear view of who approaches the main entrance. suguru absentmindedly clicks his lighter—shoko had gone to get another pack of cigarettes. 

it is from this higher point that they have a clear view of you. you're so obviously new to this, satoru thinks as he watches how you awkwardly stand in front of yaga sensei. 

he already wants to label you as a side character. it's mean, he realizes—cruel even, but he can barely bring himself to care. 

"yaga sensei mentioned that there'd be a new student joining us this week," suguru says, fingering the bangs hanging in front of his eyes. they roam over you with only slight interest before uttering your full name, just as his teacher had said it.

satoru repeats it with a hum. "not a big name or anything. a small-sized family of sorcerers i think." he shrugs carelessly. "but honestly i never really paid attention to all those stupid clan and jujutsu family lessons." 

suguru only responds with a good-natured chuckle, tearing his eyes away from the scene to look at his friend. "no shit." 

the two sit in quiet silence, watching yaga's lips move in structured, emotionless greetings as he shakes your hand. satoru is especially focused on the hunching of your shoulders and the way your eyes nervously dart around. 

suguru is the first to interrupt the peace. 

"maybe she's strong?" 

"are you kidding?" satoru scoffs as he stands up straight, shoving his fists into his pockets. he turns his nose up slightly. "that's not the attitude of someone who's confident in their abilities." 

ii. routine 

"can i ask you guys a question?" 

a cool breeze tickles your skin, goosebumps rising in its wake, and you suppress a shiver. the smell of the air tells you winter is fast approaching. 

"you just did," satoru hums, his snowy hair splayed out against stems of green grass. suguru's chuckle reverberates deep in his chest, and you have to push back an exasperated smile. 

"another one then," you press, leaning over satoru's face to force yourself into his view. his blue eyes pierce through yours over the dark-rimmed frames of his glasses, and even after seeing them so many times, they still feel as dominating as the first. he hums again, and you take that as your cue. 

"what did you first think of me when we met all those months ago?" 

satoru sits up quickly, and you can already feel your shoulders dropping when you catch a glimpse of the teasing smirk on his lips. he shifts so that he's directly facing you, leaning close so that the two of you are barely a palm's distance from one another. 

"thought you were an annoying little rookie~" he sings and you immediately shove at his shoulder.

"'m not a rookie anymore," you huff, and satoru laughs joyously. suguru only grins, his eyes darting between the two of you happily. satoru moves himself into a proper sitting position, digging his long fingers into your bag of chips and popping one into his mouth. you swat at his hand, even though you don't mean it, because though you complain about gojo satoru all the time, you would give him the whole world if you could. 

you and satoru take turns reaching into the bag. you wonder if the sound of crunching disturbs suguru. he's not asleep—he's just doing that thing where he keeps his eyes closed and escapes to his own land of tranquility. you'd like to give him as much peace as you can, so you stay quiet. satoru does too, but you think that's just because you aren't talking to him. 

the quiet is nice when you're with them. sometimes silence makes you feel alone—paranoid. it feels like there is some impending doom hovering over your shoulder, and all you can do is wait for it to come. but with them it is different. you know that any danger in the quiet will be caught by the two of them. maybe that's why it's so easy to let your guard down around them. you trust that they won't let you die.  

"i thought you were weak," satoru pipes up after a few minutes of silence. "you didn't seem like you were confident in your abilities, and that's a sign of weakness." 

after spending so much time with satoru and suguru, the word weak has permeated almost every one of your conversations. later you learned how much more significant it was for them to label someone as strong. you chase after the word—crave it.

"and turns out that wasn't true." suguru adds with a smile, his head leaning back against the trunk of the tree. his eyes are still closed serenely and you wonder if he can feel the way you're gazing at him. 

"yeah and now you act like some big hotshot," satoru grumbles, as though he doesn't want to admit to his old mistake, but you can hear his smile. it annoys you, the way his once degrading little nickname has now somewhat turned into a term of endearment. you would rather die than admit that you like hearing him say it. 

"well, I'm glad that i was able to prove you both wrong."

the conversation ends there. 

shoko returns a few minutes later, tossing you a can of soda and suguru a pack of cigarettes. as soon as she sits down in her spot under the tree you're forcing your head into her lap and kicking your feet onto satoru's legs. you ignore his complaints, because you know that in just a little bit he'll quiet down and his hand will rest over your ankle, fingers soft but firm. they'll occasionally drum some rhythmic tune, or draw nonsensical patterns against your skin.

shoko's fingers thread through your hair, just like they always do, and you know that in a few minutes you'll doze off in her lap, just like you always do. it's clockwork, this thing that you have with them. they make the days keep going—time doesn't stop for you. 

a part of you wishes you could freeze time at that moment. 

but you can't. 

iii. halcyon

"hey suguru?"

"hm?"

"how come you always do your hair the same way?"

suguru glances up from his book. he's seated at your desk, and for a minute, the breeze pushes your curtains so that they block your view of him. satoru groans lightly from your left, turning on his side to snuggle deeper into your pillow, and slumber overtakes him once more. him and shoko remain quiet, faces free of worry as they dream in a land that is so unlike the real world you live in.

"what do you mean?" suguru asks in response to your question. he has an amused smile on his face as he places his book on your desk, though his thumb and pointer finger keep his page.

"well…" you suddenly feel stupid for asking, but he's looking at you so intently now. "you have such nice hair. you could style it in so many different ways."

"are you saying you don't like my hair the way it is?" he frowns.

"no no!" you scramble, shaking your head emphatically. quite the opposite actually you think he's so so attractive—how on earth did you screw this up so badly? "that's not it i just—"

he laughs, tilting his head fondly. "i'm just messing with you, hotshot."

you blanch, before crossing your arms with a huff. "asshole…"

he chuckles, before lifting a calloused hand up to finger the tie that holds his hair in a bun. he glances back at you, before a michevious smile settles on his face. he gives the tie one sharp tug, and the bun falls away. black hair drops, resting on his shoulders, and you stare at him—oddly parched. wind brushes through the open window, tickling your curtains, tickling his now open hair. you had seen his hair down before, of course. in the few seconds after a sparring session when the bun had gotten loose, or when too many strands escaped the tie and fell in front of his face (he always pushed them away with an agitated huff). but now he looks different—good, you realize. he looks good.

"how should i style it then, hotshot?"

his question shakes you out of your daze. you hum in contemplation. "i don't know."

he laughs quietly, as to not wake the other two. "didn't you just say there were so many ways to style it? enlighten me then," he teases, reaching over to grab a small scrap of paper from your desk. he slots it where his fingers are holding place, and then closes the book. he swivels in the chair to face you completely, rolling over so that he's right in front of you.

"well…" you start, biting your lip in thought. "a ponytail maybe?"

suguru bunches his hair into his fist, holding it up against his head. "and? how do i look?"

you grin, eyeing the new style with a stifled laugh. "fantastic."

he laughs again, louder this time, before dropping his hand.

"it looked good though!" you laugh and he rolls his eyes fondly.

"yeah yeah," he dismisses with a wave of his hand. he looks back at you, eyes tracing over your hair before he grins wide.

"i like yours."

you blink. "mine?"

"the way you did your hair today," he points to the half up-half down style you've thrown together. a dark blue ribbon holds the hair in place—satoru had said it matched nicely with your uniform. suguru's eyes gleam as he appraises it. "it's nice. it looks really pretty on you."

something in your chest feels like it fell off a cliff.

"oh—" you stumble, before smiling at him because that's all you can do when he makes you feel like this. "thanks suguru."

"do mine like that," he says quickly.

once again, you blink owlishly and all you can manage is a stupid "huh?"

"do my hair like that," he repeats, getting up from the chair to sit at your feet, back towards you. he crosses his legs and puts his hands in his lap, patiently waiting.

"you can't do it yourself?" you tease, scooting closer to the edge of the bed.

"i can," he replies and you can hear the easy smile in his voice. "but i want you to do it for me."

"okay then!" you laugh before gently parting sections of his hair out. and then you work in silence, putting more effort into his hair than you've ever done with your own.

iv. fragility

"lady riko does not have any relations. when she was young, her family was involved in an accident…since then, i've been her caretaker. so please let her at least spend time with her fr—" 

"—so that makes you her family then." 

suguru's words seem to stun kuroi, the weight of riko's situation finally making itself clear as her face crumbles. 

"…yes." 

you listen to the way her voice wobbles, and try to suppress the poisonous lump forming in your throat. 

"then we do everything we can to make her happy," you say solemnly, leaving no room for argument. suguru seems to agree and says nothing—some deeper part of you feels something more than thankful towards him. 

"you're awfully sensitive for a jujustu sorcerer, you know that?" satoru comments offhandedly. you turn to look at him, meeting his piercing gaze over dark rims. 

"maybe," you concur. "is that considered weak?" 

satoru seems to ponder his answer, before shrugging, a light smile on his face. "to some people, maybe." 

you manage to smile back, and he takes in the expression with an odd look on his face. "say what you want, satoru. but you agree with me, don't you?" 

he looks away, eyes gazing out to the distance where you know riko is currently in class with her friends, trying to live the life she wants, and something in them softens considerably. 

"we'll do things the way she wants us to." 

it's one sentence, said without a smile or laugh, but hearing it fall from satoru's lips makes you beam at him. 

that's just your kindness, isn't it, satoru?

your heart leaps when you notice the tips of his ears tinge with rouge. 

v. longing

riko's hand is warm against the coolness of your fingers. your body feels hyperaware of your surroundings, toes deep in hot sand and salty air sticking to your skin. for some odd reason, you can't seem to relax. unconsciously, you tighten your grip around the young girl's palm. she glances up at you, but when you look down at her, she's wearing the biggest smile you've ever seen. 

satoru's presence makes itself known behind you—his shadow looms over yours in the sand. "it'll be fine," he says.

you can't see his face, nor can you see suguru who stands at his side, but your shoulders drop slightly, and you find yourself smiling back at riko. 

"i'm getting in the water!" she squeals eagerly, before dragging a helpless kuroi with her. satoru laughs—a clear, pristine sound—and follows after her. you watch the three of them with a fond smile, something akin to content settling deep within you.  

"and what are you planning on doing?" suguru asks. you turn to look at him, watching the way his heavy eyes stay focused on you. 

"hmm," you quirk a brow mischievously. "build sandcastles with me?" 

suguru blinks owlishly before he breaks out into a good-natured laugh. 

"deal." he walks closer to the water's edge, where the sand is damper, and crouches down. he turns to look at you over his shoulder. "don't make me do all the work, hotshot." 

you stand there, taking him in—really taking him in. he's just as clear as the sky behind him, and the sun shining on his face makes his smile glow. you want him to continue smiling at you like that well into the future. the waves crash onto the shore, as though the ocean is chasing his radiance, and an overwhelming feeling of unfiltered affection swells in your chest. 

your feet carry you forward, and you think that they might always lead you back to him. 

the sun rises as time passes, and occasionally you spare a glance at satoru and riko, who are screaming as they splash water at one another. and then you catch a glimpse of kuroi, who stands with her feet in the water, a soft smile on her face. 

and in that moment, nothing can be ruined. 

"what's wrong?" suguru's voice calls out, and you tear your gaze away from the others to look back at him. he stands behind you with two strawberry ice cream cones in his hands. 

"nothing," you hum, a serene smile on your face. "everything's perfect."

his eyes trace your face, stopping to linger on your smile, and they soften. "it is, isn't it?" 

he turns to the ocean, watching satoru and riko, and his eyes sparkle. "i hope it stays like this always." 

"me too." 

he bends down to take his place at your side before he hands you a cone. you take it from him. suguru's eyes drift away from you to look down at his castle. 

"i think it looks great," he expresses, before taking a lick of his ice cream. 

you roll your eyes with a huff. "yeah, because you made it look so nice. you're unnecessarily good at this, suguru." 

he laughs, waving his hand dismissively. "no no, we did it together! and yours is nice too!" 

"maybe," you grin, looking at his castle. "but yours is extra pretty." 

he smiles back, before pointing at a small hole in his sand tower. "see this room? it's yours." 

"mine?" you chuckle.

"yeah, all yours," he hums softly. "this is my castle and you get your own room." 

"oh? and why's that?" 

suguru's gaze lingers on you, and his dark eyes soften considerably. "because you'll always have a place in my home." 

you stare at him, speechless—something hammers away at the inner crevices of your chest. 

"and this one—" he points to another hole a few inches away from the first. "—is my room." 

"well in that case, that room is mine too!" you declare.

"what?" he barks out a laugh. "how does that work?" 

"well…" you grin at him, the sun burning into your cheeks. "because my home is wherever you are!" 

suguru's cheeky smile fades and his eyes widen. he looks at you, mouth agape, and you're about to say something else before sticky coolness trickles down your wrist. 

"ack!" you hurry to wipe away the strawberry ice cream dripping down your skin and you completely miss the red that creeps up his neck and seeps into his ears. 

vi. ice bath

shoko's fingers are unbelievably soft. you're grateful that you were unconscious through most of her procedures on your battered body—you don't think you would've handled the pain too well. she's quiet as she works over the large wound that now covers almost half of your torso. the man with the scar on his lip had done quite the number on you, and you don't think you'll ever forget the searing ache of his blade slicing through your flesh. he had left you in a bloodied pile, isolated, and you hadn't seen what had happened to suguru after the man shot riko. you could only lay there, vision swimming as a bitter taste filled your mouth—a reminder of the life you failed to protect.

the pain had been the only thing you could focus on, until satoru was on his knees at your side and tightly gripping your shoulders. your hazy focus was drawn to his lips as he spewed curses and insults at you. 

"why didn't you run away, you little shit," he had shouted, a feral look in his eyes. there was something different about him—a change in his very being that you could see even in the throes of death. "shoko's coming, do you hear me? for fuck's sake, keep your eyes open, hotshot!" 

you swore you saw his eyes shine behind that look of uncontrolled anger. he had been talking a mile a minute and your focus had waned until you could only see his lips move, no sound reaching your ears.

you've never thought satoru looked more godly than he did at that moment.

suguru eventually found his way into your field of vision—knelt at satoru's side. his large hand had squeezed your limp fingers in a death grip. he was sweating, and his eyes were darting back and forth between your pale face and bloodied torso, something akin to guilt swimming in them. you wished that you had the strength in you to squeeze his hand in return. the last thing you remember seeing is his dark hair falling in front of his face as he turned to shout at whoever was approaching.

now you're awake. disoriented and bleary, but awake, and all you can look at is the way shoko's bangs fall over her furrowed brows. she's taken care of the bleeding, and now all that's left is a dull throbbing, reminding you of how close you had toed the line with death. you don't know this yet, but the scar will remain for the rest of your life, and that dull throbbing will be a permanent reminder of your narrow escape. 

shoko hasn't said a word since she noticed your eyelids flutter open. you want to ask her so many things. important things that cannot wait: 

where's satoru? how about suguru? i saw them both. satoru's alive, right? and suguru, too? the man—with the scar. where did he go? he said that satoru—riko….where is riko? and—and kuroi…i—i..couldn't save riko. when did you get here, shoko? and why am i the only one who's being taken care of by you? 

you want to ask her. but she's making a very odd expression as her hands ghost over your body. you've never seen it before, this odd quirking of her lips. her teeth sink into the bottom one, and she chews and bites and nibbles like it's some kind of nervous tell. 

"shoko?" 

it's all you can manage to say—all you dare. your voice is dry, shaky, and sounds almost foreign to your ears. you're going to ask more, at least one of those thousand questions you had asked in your head earlier, but you don't get to because she speaks before you. 

"shut up," she spits, and the wobble in her voice has you pinching your lips shut and feeling closer to death than you did before. 

vii. acid rain

the sound of clapping is deafening. you don't think you've ever heard a sound so horrid in your life before, and you feel as though your ears are bleeding heavily. you can faintly make out the conversation between satoru and suguru, your ears struggling to pick out the tones of their voices. 

"no…" you hear suguru say quietly. "it doesn't matter if I'm fine…"

you can feel satoru's eyes roam over your motionless body, watching the way you gaze out into the crowd impassively. 

"let's get out of here, guys."

your feet carry you numbly, and you aren't aware of anything except the way riko's arm is swinging in front of you lifelessly. there are no mirrors around—no way of catching the track of tears cutting over your cheeks. the places where the salt touches burn like acid. you say nothing. 

satoru's gaze feels intrusive. he doesn't need to ask you anything—he just knows. it's like your body is radiating the emotions tumbling around in your gut. 

you're awfully sensitive for a jujutsu sorcerer, you know that?

"do you want to…kill them all?" 

the question stuns you, and for the first time, you can shake yourself out of your daze to look at satoru directly. blood is smeared over the left side of his face, cerulean eyes dimmed, as though something had pulled the shine out of them. red seeps into the fine hairs of his restless eyebrows. 

"right now, i probably wouldn't even feel anything," he continues, staring at you listlessly.

you think satoru might be feeling just as numb as you are. you don't know what happened to him yet. the last you had heard, gojo satoru had been killed by the man with the scar. he had boasted about it to you before he attempted to kill you too. but then satoru was at your side again, completely alive as he ran your battered body to shoko like a crazed man. 

you'll find out later who the man with the scar on his lip was, and what kind of legacy he had left behind. but for right now, all you see is a teenager with the weight of the world on his shoulders, and you know your answer.

satoru could help the pain go away; he'd be able to make the clapping stop—maybe then your ears wouldn't bleed anymore. but you couldn't ask that of him. 

"forget it. it's pointless," suguru mutters, and you're glad he's on the same page as you. not because any of these people deserve pity, but because satoru deserves a break—one less burden for him to carry. 

you hear suguru say more, but you can't focus. you continue to listen to the sound of the clapping, and once again lose yourself as you stare at riko's bloodied fingertips. 

"pointless, huh?" satoru mumbles in response to suguru's answer. "does there need to be a reason?" 

"of course. it's important," suguru's voice doesn't carry the same pleasant tone it always does. instead, it sounds strained, and tired beyond belief. unsure. "especially as jujutsu sorcerers." 

satoru doesn't respond, but you know that he's measuring the weight of his friend's words. that's how it was with the two of them. they both balance each other out—their moral compasses influenced by one another. but then you feel satoru look up from riko's body and turn to you. suguru follows suit, and before you can wonder why, it hits you: satoru had asked you both. 

you suck a deep breath in, feeling unusually breathless. the flesh of your stomach tingles with a painful reminder of what might've been, and you make up your mind. 

"killing them won't change anything," you say, breaking your silence. the tears on your cheeks have dried, but they leave a rigid trail in their wake—a trail that still stings. "let's just leave it at that." 

viii. fever dreams

satoru lies next to you. 

a few nights have passed since riko's death, and you've chosen to stay holed up in your room. you're not sure why—death has always played a big role in your life. you don't understand why it's different this time. 

tonight is different as well. while you've maintained a distance from everyone since that day, save for classes and passing by people on school grounds, today you've decided to let someone in. satoru's the lucky one, mostly because he would've pestered you until you opened your door for him anyway. 

it's strange though. he had knocked over and over, and when you finally opened up with a snappy jab at his annoying personality, he had brushed straight past you and laid across your bed. he hadn't said a word since then, and you've found yourself lying next to him in silence for quite a while. 

his hand stretches out in the darkness and you can feel his fingertips brush over the skin of your arm. it's delicate, like he's testing his limits, but you understand. it's just to ground himself—to know that you're still here, with him. to be sure that you're still alive.

you think the scar that goes down your body bothers him a lot more than it bothers you. 

"'m here," you mumble sleepily. your fingers reach up to bump against his knuckles, and you hear him inhale deeply. his voice is throaty when he replies. 

"i know." 

ix. doubt

satoru learns that you've never been kissed before and he teases you for it.

not in a mean way, but in a way that has your cheeks heating and your eyes avoiding his. suddenly it feels like the gap between ages 16 and 17 is huge. he's barely even a year older than you and you're in the same year, but it feels as though he knows so much more about the world than you do. you want to ask suguru if it's bad that you've never had a kiss, but you don't. suguru rarely talks these days. sometimes he'll have conversations with you but won't look in your eyes when he speaks. 

"hey listen, hotshot. if you don't get a kiss by…" satoru hums, an eager smile on his face as he swings an arm around your shoulders and contemplates his words. "…let's say 27, then i'll give one to you!" 

there's an odd note of glee in his voice. 

"shut up, toru," you groan, heat flooding your cheeks. "quit joking around." 

he laughs loudly, pulling your cheek teasingly. "aw, i'm just playing. it's not a bad thing i promise!" 

your shoulders relax slightly as the snowy-haired sorcerer continues to speak. 

"i just thought that you would've kissed someone by now," he shrugs. "wasn't there that one guy you went on a few dates with? the one you met when we went to yokohama?" 

there's an almost sour expression on his face as he speaks, but you're too frustrated to care. "just because i went on a couple of dates with him doesn't mean i kissed him!"

a broad teasing smile appears on satoru's face. "is that so?" 

"ugh, i'm only 16!" you hiss, shoving him away from you. "besides i'm saving it for someone special!"

"good," you hear suguru speak up, and you turn to look at him. his fingers are interlocked, elbows resting on his knees, and he's staring down at his hands like they hold the answers to some deep questions he has. "it is something irreplaceable after all." 

x. shadow

satoru's grin is proud as he stands before the three of you, his loose shirt billowing in the summer breeze.

you stare at him, heart thumping as shoko lets out a confused gasp. "huh? what the hell was that?"

"did it automatically choose the target for your technique?" suguru asks.

"yep!" satoru stresses the word, spinning the pencil suguru had thrown as he explains. "though i am the target. i've pretty much automated what i used to have to do manually."

your head is spinning.

"now i can tell an object's danger levels based the strength of its cursed energy, its speed, mass, velocity, shape—whatever. i want to be able to discern poisons too but that's pretty hard right now." satoru's voice is even when he explains, though you can make out the hints of pride that permeate his tones. you think his voice has gotten a little deeper too. "basically this is gonna allow me to keep my limitless technique active all the time!"

"that's gonna fry your brain!" shoko interjects, shaking her hair out of her eyes.

"yeah but i can do it while i continuously generate energy on my own. that way my brain stays fresh."

you can't help but let out an amused scoff. "what brain?"

satoru chucks the eraser at you, and you laugh as it bounces off your shoulder harmlessly.

"i've been working on shortening my hand signals so i can activate red and blue simultaneously." he continues, lips twitching upward as he gives you an exaggerated glare. "after this the only things i need to work on are domain expansion and long-distance teleportation. which i should be able to do if we set up some training courses here at school."

you think if someone examined you closely, they would see the stars in your eyes when you look at satoru.

"shoko~" he calls out, grinning eagerly. "think you could get me some lab rats?"

shoko groans as satoru bounds over to pester her more emphatically. you watch him, thinking you've never seen a person quite so magnificent.

god personified into a 17-year-old body. and yet it is a body that stays so close to you—well within your reach. maybe there's nothing so godly about that at all.

"don't you get tired of getting stronger and stronger, jeez?" you complain, crossing your arms as you raise a brow at him. satoru wets his lips as he throws you a smug smile.

"don't worry hotshot, you'll catch up to me someday!" he gives you an exaggerated wink over the frames of his glasses, and you shake your head somewhat fondly.

"no way! i never want to be at your level," you huff. "i'm very comfortable living in your shadow, thank you very much!"

a strange look passes over his face, almost puzzled, but the dip in his brows melts away as he approaches you. "well—" he slings an arm over your shoulder. "if my shadow makes you happy then you're more than welcome to stay there."

you don't have time to reply. pale lashes flutter at you—a backdrop of cerulean. you think white and blue may be the prettiest combination of colors in the world.

"suguru?" satoru's voice is casual, yet the amusement has dropped from it. his arm is heavy around your shoulders. "have you lost weight? are you okay?"

you look up, seeing tired eyes behind dark stands of hair. suguru's cheekbones are prominent, and you have the sudden urge to reach out and trace your fingers over them.

his lips twitch upward weakly. "it's just the summer heat…"

his lavender eyes drift to your face as he says it, and he tilts his head as he scrutinizes your worried expression. "…i'll be fine."

xi. hellfire

you hear suguru before you see him.

his breaths come loud as he pushes the door to the morgue open, the metal clanging heavily. his eyes bore into your back, taking in your clenched fists and raised shoulders that seem to tremble.

you wonder who told suguru you'd be here. maybe nanami, who was here not long ago, and had sent you a text that merely said: the mission went badly.

or maybe it was satoru, who had been chatting with you near the entrance of campus when he saw the myriad of emotions pass over your face as you read the text. he had probably called suguru as soon as you left.

it doesn't matter—you can't bring yourself to care.

you can only think about the way haibara had smiled at you before he left that morning.

now that smile is covered by a dirty white sheet, and you can't tear your eyes away from it. the taste of blood and vomit is heavy on your tongue.

suguru says your name quietly. you can't even look at him—you're scared that you'll cry if you do.

you don't ever want to cry in front of him. or satoru—so weak in front of those who are so strong.

"he asked if i wanted to go with them and i said no because i was lazy," you hiss, teeth clenched as you spit out the words with venom. "if i had just stopped thinking about myself for a second—"

your fingers dig into the flesh of your palms—deep, deep, deeper.

you hear suguru click his tongue, and his hands wrap around yours. he yanks your fingers apart fiercely, thumbs smoothing over the bloodied indents you've made in your own skin. you tear your eyes away from the body to finally look at him.

"don't—" his breath catches as his thumbs still over your flesh, eyes going hard as he takes in the blood.

he blurs in and out of focus. his head whips up when he hears you sniffle, and his lips slant ruefully. "you—"

"i'm fine," you interrupt, blinking pointedly and taking a deep breath. "it's fine—i mean it's not fine—but i c—"

"stop." suguru grabs your shoulders, giving you an even stare. you don't know how you didn't notice it before, but he looks thinner, older. there are dark circles under his eyes—poison seeping into his skin. "you need to rest."

you stare back at him silently, but you don't feel like you agree. something about this is making you feel restless, like there is so much you need to make up for. his grip tightens, before he's wordlessly leading you to take a seat—he finds his place next to you.

"satoru took over the mission." he stares at the lifeless body on the table as he speaks. you lower your gaze.

"and nanami?" your throat feels like it's closing. suguru inhales deeply.

"he went back to the dorms."

"okay."

you try to figure out if there is any meaning in having this conversation. despite everything, weren't you expected to wake up tomorrow morning and head out on a mission once more? and when you return, you're sure that there'll be another faceless body taking haibara's place.

the cycle continues—clockwork. it scares you, just how replaceable you are.

haibara, nanami, you, another, nameless—interchangeable.

not like satoru. not like suguru. not like the strong.

you lean your head against suguru's shoulder, fingering the hem of your uniform skirt. the fabric is cool to the touch—it seems darker, heavier. heat radiates from the body next to you, and there's something about him that's making your stomach churn with nerves. "suguru?"

his voice sounds far away. "hm?"

"are you okay?"

he stiffens and you suddenly fear you've said too much—nosy, intruding, out of place. you stumble. "it's just, we haven't talked much lately."

"i'm fine," he answers, and you can hear a smile in his voice—whether it's real or fake you can't tell. "just a little tired."

you know there is truth to this. but it scares you, how this tiredness of his has lingered for months. you don't know how to tell him that.

"okay…" your voice is barely a whisper, heavy with unspoken words that you don't know how to formulate. somehow you find that silence has always been your only option.

but like usual, silence with suguru has never once been uncomfortable.

haibara's smile burns behind your eyelids.

"it should be a relatively simple mission. if you're not doing anything today senpai, would you like to come with us?"

his voice tickles your ears.

"that's alright! i'll get going then! oh right, today's mission is a little farther than usual, so we'll probably be back late! what would you like me to bring back for you?" 

hypoxia crushes your lungs, your blood burns. selfish selfish selfish. you've only ever cared about yourself.

suguru's arm curls around your shoulder before you even realize you're crying. his palm is warm as it smooths over your hair, and all you can worry about tainting him with your ridiculous tears.

you don't ever want to burden him—just want to quietly live in his shadow.

"i don't—" you internally cringe at the throaty rasp of your voice, swiping a hand at your nose. "i shouldn't be so sensitive about—"

"it's not your fault." he quietly hushes you, grip tightening imperceptibly. through your tears you can see him adam's apple bob, and for some reason that makes you feel worse. you're too scared to look at his expression, even though his voice is resolute. "none of this is our fault."

something has changed in the way he speaks now. something has settled, a confirmation of some idea that has been brewing for a long time now.

you don't say another word, but somehow he manages to sear himself into your very being. he's warm, and fuzzy, and he smells like sandalwood and incense. 

you don't know how long suguru let's you pathetically sob into his shoulder.

but you think you're embarrassed that he has taken pity on a wounded animal's cries.

xii. split

he looks different, but also the same. you've seen him wear that sweater before. it's plain black, no patterns, and you know that there's a loose string on the inside of the left sleeve that he was always too lazy to cut. you've always liked that sweater—always liked the way he looked in it. 

you liked it so much that you've even stolen it a few times yourself. 

but now it looks different. older and dirtier—as though soiled by some unknown curse. 

that's what everything came down to, right? curses. 

suguru stands in front of you, almost no trace of emotion on his handsome face, and his expression makes you want to turn and run. you miss the calm serenity that normally graced his features, wishing that you had some kind of cursed technique that could turn back time. but you aren't blessed like that—you wonder what sin you might've committed in a past life that made you so unlucky in this one. 

"you look confused," he comments. you reel at how casually he speaks to you, like it's just another afternoon sitting under that stupid tree. like he's leaning his head back against the trunk and watching you and satoru bicker with that fond look in his eye. 

"suguru," you speak, an odd strain in your voice. you struggle to comprehend this odd turn of events. you've had time to understand that he's now a different person than the one you once knew. you know that he's responsible for killing 112 innocents, including his own parents. you know that he's now an enemy to jujutsu society and you know that you should kill him right at this moment.

but he looks so much like suguru, like your suguru, that you can only manage to stand there, frozen in place. his eyes drift over your body, taking in your pajamas, the bath towel in your hands, and the small drops that trickle from your hair, and you can see the familiarity settle in his expression. 

"why are you here?" you choke out. you feel an overwhelming sense of danger in your gut, knowing that your family is just a few rooms over from where he stands now. 

"at your family home, you mean?" he asks casually. a small, almost amused smirk appears on his face. "you said i was always welcome." 

you did say that. sometime last year or the year before, when you had invited satoru, suguru, and shoko over to visit during one of your quick holidays. suguru had sat across from you at your dinner table. he complimented the food and your father smiled one of his rare smiles. you had chewed quietly to hide your grin.

you don't know what to say to him now. 

"everything they said about you," you whisper, taking a step toward him. he remains rooted in place, but his eyes follow your movements. they shift when he catches your fingers gripping your towel tighter. "is it true?" 

"do you think it is?" he asks, and you gulp. it feels like he's baiting you into some kind of trap. 

"i don't want to believe that it is," you answer, voice shaking. "that you would ever do something so…"

the sentence hangs in the air, and he tilts his head imperceptibly. something in his eyes changes as he focuses on the drops falling over your shoulders. 

"well i'm sorry to squash your hope," he raises his arms in a shrug. "but everything you heard is completely true." 

your head aches, but you're not surprised by his confirmation. "why would you…?"

suguru hums, a dark look falling over his face. "do you remember the conversation we had after haibara's funeral? do you remember what i told you when he died?" 

anger flares in your gut at the mention of haibara, and the bath towel crumples in your hold. "don't say his name," you hiss through gritted teeth. "don't act like he's the reason—just…don't bring him into this. please." 

suguru licks his lips, eyes going soft before he tries again. 

"everything used to make sense back then," he sighs. "back when the strong existed to protect the weak. but it's not true." 

"suguru—" 

"the reason why we suffer is because of them," he interjects evenly, though frustration is clearly evident in the curve of his brows and the volume of his voice. "we clean up their messes. they create problems and we die for it." 

you're stunned into silence, at the way he's raising his voice at you, at the way he's speaking so firmly about this horrible topic, at everything. he seems to realize the effect of his speech, and he quells his anger to speak quieter. "that's why i'm doing this. i'm going to create a world without non-sorcerers, so that sorcerers like you and i can live peacefully." 

a lump forms in your throat because god, he's right. he's so right. your life would be a thousand times better without curses. non-sorcerers were the reason curses existed. but the way he's going about this…

"suguru," your voice shakes, but you press on. "i get it. i really do—" 

"i know you do," he interrupts. "you always have. even back then…" 

he takes a step closer to you, reaching out to finger the towel in your hands. "but you don't agree with the way i'm doing it, right?" 

you bite your lip, and he smiles at the sadness in your expression. "you're so easy to read, hotshot." 

you ignore the way the nickname stings. "i just—how could you kill innocent people like that? your own parents, suguru."

he looks away from you, steely resolve in his eyes. "if i made exceptions for my parents, that would kinda make me a hypocrite, wouldn't it?"  

you don't know what to say to that. he doesn't seem to have anything else to add either. 

he looks around your old bedroom, eyes sparkling as they catch a picture of the four of you from your first year. satoru's arm is slung around shoko. the dark-haired female has her elbow resting on your shoulder, her tongue sticking out playfully. you're clinging to suguru's arm, and satoru's free hand is squishing your cheeks together. the four of you are laughing. 

nobody has laughed in a while now. 

you tear your gaze away from the picture frame to look at him. he's so unbelievably close, and he's gazing down at you with this foreign look in his eyes, the picture forgotten behind him. 

he slips his fingers into your hair. his palm is large enough that it can brush the side of your face, and you wonder why your body doesn't flinch away from those bloodstained hands.

"it's okay," he mumbles, a faraway look in his eyes. they remain trained on your hair, but it feels like he's looking straight through you. like you're nothing more than a ghost he wants to erase. he's so close—you can count his dark lashes as they brush against his cheeks. "it's difficult. i don't expect you to understand." 

his words incite a sudden flare of anger in your gut. it burns something fierce, and in that moment you hate him. 

"no, i don't," you reply indignantly. he pauses, now really looking at you, and his brows quirk upward in what seems to be surprise, because—well, he's never seen you make such an expression at him before. "you never tried to help me understand. you just left." 

a strained silence follows. his fingers twitch against your cheek.

"this doesn't concern you," he says finally. "i don't need you to understand my actions." 

you recoil, as though he's physically hurt you, and your expression falls so hard that it almost makes him regret saying it. almost. 

"if it doesn't concern me, then why are you here?" you ask again, and you see suguru's shoulders drop. "you know that i have orders to kill you. i might not be able to because you've always been stronger than me. but you know that i'll…" 

go down fighting you, is what you want to say, but the words leave a nasty taste in your mouth. but suguru seems to know what you're implying because a wry smile appears on his lips. his fingers twirl a strand of your wet hair. 

"i'm here to say goodbye," he says finally. another tense silence fills the space between you both, and suguru can see the way your fingers shake between the folds of your towel. 

"you're a little bit late for that, aren't you?" you choke out, a strange tilt to your voice as you break eye contact with him. "you left school weeks ago, and you didn't say a word to me then." 

"better late than never, right?" 

the softness in his tone makes you turn to look at him again, and you desperately want to ingrain the features of his face into your head. the gentle slope of his eyes and sweetness of his smile. he almost looks like the suguru you once knew, and you suddenly have the urge to mourn his death. 

his face becomes blurry, the edges becoming less pronounced, and you can see the way his expression falls. 

"i didn't come all the way here to make you cry." his hand drops from your face and he takes a step back. your fingers hurry to wipe at your waterline, and you shake your head. 

"'m not crying." 

suguru smiles ruefully, and his eyes suddenly look devoid of life. he takes another step back—your heart plummets.

he says your name once, quietly, and it hangs in the air as you wait for him to say more. 

he doesn't. 

"you know that I'm not supposed to let you leave alive, right?" you mumble, fingers toying with the towel in your hand. "but i can't—i mean—"

"hm," he chuckles. "still as sensitive as ever, huh? s'okay…" 

he moves toward you again and his hand gently cups the back of your neck. "i think it's your best quality. makes you better than most people in our world."

he presses his lips to your forehead tenderly, and you feel your eyes widen behind your tears. 

you probably could've stopped him, because you're aware that he's now suddenly behind you, and that he's raising his hand. you can stop him, but a part of you thinks that if it's death at suguru's hands, maybe it's not such a bad way to go. 

you accept your fate then and there. 

you'll find out later that suguru never had the intention to kill you then. perhaps he was waiting for a more opportune time, waiting for there to be a meaning behind it. you're not sure. but when you wake up tucked in your bed cozily, you'll feel the remnants of him lingering around you.

he was warm, and fuzzy, and he smelled like sandalwood and incense.

xiii. sanctify

satoru's at your door again. 

you've memorized his knock patterns. he always knocks three times, then leaves a pause, then twice more. for someone so erratic, he can be quite predictable. 

"what's up, satoru?" you call out, not looking up from your busy hands. there are a couple of empty cardboard boxes open on your bed, and you've been placing things into them all morning. things that should've been put away a long time ago. you pause on one of your old test papers, and in suguru's dark, blocky handwriting you read: 

YOU GOTTA STUDY MORE DUMBASS.

underneath it, satoru had scrawled: 

hotshot failing class now huh? :P

and shoko had added: 

both of you stfu you're failing too 

you had drawn a heart next to her name. 

"whatcha doin'?" a familiar voice chirps. "spring cleaning?"

satoru stands directly behind you, peering over your shoulder. you can practically feel his aura shift when he notices the items you're putting away. 

"cleaning of some sort," you sigh, before turning to look over your shoulder. "i've been…putting it off." 

he doesn't move—just continues to stare down at the paper in your hands. you think maybe you shouldn't have let him in. sometimes you forget that satoru might have his own sensitivities—you've always viewed him as the strongest.

a few strands of his hair tickle your cheek, and you scrunch your nose in response. he then turns to you, eyes blinding as he studies you over the frames of his shades. 

"want help?" 

"please." you don't intend to sound so needy, but the way you whisper the word has him immediately grabbing your wrist and sitting you down next to him on the bed. 

"how are we sorting this stuff?" he asks, his voice oddly calm. he hasn't let go of your arm yet, and some quiet part of you is grateful. 

"i was putting our old school stuff in that box. books, papers…" you answer softly, and satoru nods in understanding. "and in the other box…" 

you inhale deeply through your nose. satoru waits, strangely patient. you're not sure if you're imagining it, but you think he squeezes your wrist. 

"…are all of suguru's things." 

there's a moment of silence—a quick mourning for what is no longer there. 

"it's stupid stuff that he left behind, you know?" you chuckle, even though nothing is funny. "some old shirts from when you two would sleep over, his old textbooks, a few pictures from our holidays—shit like that." 

satoru hums. he's not looking at you—instead he's staring at the box, a frown on his face. 

"i guess he didn't really need those things for where he was going. or for wherever he is now," you mumble. 

"guess not." 

you're not sure what's going through his head. satoru's reaction to suguru leaving had been chaotic at best. it was so hard to tell how he felt about it. you knew he was angry, confused, betrayed. but he never showed things like that. you think it might have to do with being the strongest. you're not sure though—you never were strong like him.

you wish there was a way to tell him that he could share his feelings with you, but you can't think of a way that won't be awkward. 

a ticklish sensation crawls up your wrist and you look down to watch satoru's first two fingers tap against the inside of your palm. his thumb brushes against yours as he lets out a heavy exhale. 

"let's get started then, hotshot." 

he looks down at you as he says the words, and you think you might cry. but you want to be strong, like him, so you offer him a smile. he gives you one in return. you realize there isn't that much warmth in it, not like it used to have—you're sure that yours isn't that warm either. 

but it's enough for the two of you. 

"you look tired, toru," you chuckle wryly, reaching up to brush a few strands of hair from his face. his eyes flutter at the touch, and you honestly think this might be the most vulnerable you've ever seen him. 

"so do you." 

"i am," you admit honestly. 

"'s okay," he mumbles. his fingers tap against your palm once more. "'m here." 

"i know," you answer. you always are.

nothing more is said as satoru stands up. he makes his way over to your desk and pulls one of suguru's old sweaters from your chair. you watch him fold it neatly, smoothing out the creases with care, before placing it into the box—you smile once more. 

you think the scent of sandalwood tickles your nose, but it's gone in an instant.  

both of you work in relative silence, sorting through the things in your room quickly. you're surprised at how bare it looks as you're nearing the end, as though there's nothing more to your life than old high school recollections. 

you finish putting the last few polaroids into the box when satoru speaks up. 

"hey." 

you look up and find him staring at you, so you turn to face him completely, giving him your full attention. 

"zenin toji—" the name sends a painful tingle up your body. "—left something behind." 

you frown. "what are you talking about?" 

"a kid. he's got a kid. and i was gonna go meet him today," satoru shrugs. you try to read his emotions, but as usual, he's giving you nothing. "the old man said something about the zenin clan buying up his kid before i killed him. i was gonna go see if there's something i could do about that." 

you sigh before raising a brow, an amused lilt to your voice. "and why have you kept this a secret?" 

satoru's trademark smirk appears, and he walks over to sling an arm around your shoulders. "who knows?" he quips nonchalantly. "guess i was waiting until we were bored. we need something to do now, don't we?" 

you glance at the packed boxes on your bed, and then look around your empty room. everything is always changing, but satoru is constant. 

"i guess so," you grin. his eyes shine, and for a second you see a familiar teenager at the beach, and then a familiar teenager under an old tree. you think you hear waves, and the crinkling of a bag of chips. 

"good," he chirps, walking you to the door, the arm around your shoulder secure. "his name's megumi, and we're gonna make sure he gets strong."

xiv. idyll

it takes you a little over four months to get used to megumi's eyes. they aren't unsettling or invading, like a certain snowy haired sorcerer, but they do give you chills when you first notice them. chills and a fleeting feeling of metal slicing up and down through your flesh. you just have to steady your breathing and remind yourself that the son is not the father.

tsumiki is an angel. you didn't think that kids that age could be so emotionally competent, but she's a pleasant surprise. she had been awfully protective over megumi, fidgeting with a firm hand on his shoulder as you and satoru invaded their space and upturned their lives. even after they had settled into the humble apartment satoru had purchased, tsumiki was still so overly cautious. it was obvious she still didn't trust either of you, but you thought it was admirable of her, and you relay this thought to satoru one day.

"think they hate us?" he asks, squishing his cheeks between his lithe fingers as he eyes the different milk cartons over the rims of his glasses.

"i'm pretty sure they just don't trust us that much," you reply, placing a few packs of instant ramen into the cart. "can you blame them? we're just random strangers who came up and basically kidnapped them."

"i'd like to say adopted!" he points out with a grin, before he sighs. "but we've already proved we're just doing this to help them. but they still barely talk at all."

"they're just being careful. megumi's still a little young and he looks like he doesn't give a shit about most stuff anyway," you chuckle as you remember the expression on the first grader's face as he spoke to your cocky friend. "and tsumiki's being cautious for both of them."

"she doesn't need to be cautious of us!" satoru dramatically whines, pulling out a carton of whole milk and placing it into the cart. you shiver as the cold air hits your skin, eyeing the sorcerer with an exasperated smile. he shuts the door with a huff. "i've been such a good dad!"

you roll your eyes, shoving his arm as he starts pushing the cart down the aisle. "she definitely should be cautious of you, you creep."

satoru looks down over his shoulder, appalled, though his eyes sparkle with mirth. "and why do you say that?"

"have you seen yourself? crazy 19 year old man that kidnaps kids," you mutter somewhat sarcastically, falling into step with him like it's normal. satoru grins at that—amused.

"i think it's pretty cool of her to be that responsible though," you continue, voice going softer as you think about them, and satoru hums in what you think might be agreement. you suddenly grab his arm, stopping him in his tracks and he turns to look at you.

"you think we should get another carton of milk?" you question, tilting your head at him. "megumi's been drinking it every day after he comes back from school and tsumiki said she wanted to try making milkshakes."

satoru blinks at you, eyes widening before an amused chuckle escapes his lips. you're about to ask what is so funny but he gestures back down the aisle. "go get some."

he waits for you as you go grab another carton, leaning against the cart easily. when you make it back and place the extra milk in the cart, satoru slings an arm around your shoulders. you raise a brow, but he just continues to push the cart with his free hand and says nothing.

so you don't say anything either.

the two of you continue shopping, trying to remember the things you've noticed the kids enjoying because you know they'll be too uncomfortable to outrightly request them. for every sweet snack satoru puts into the cart, you add something that can pass as somewhat healthy, and he hides a teasing grin behind his fist each time.

when you're almost done, satoru motions to the shelves of snacks, raising a brow at you. "what do you need, hotshot?"

you look up from where you're analyzing the contents of the cart. "hm? oh i don't wanna buy anything for myself. i'm good with the stuff i have back at the dorm."

"great," he shrugs with a subtle shake of his head. "except you're not buying anything this time, i am. so pick something."

"what?" you frown, walking over to him. "we're supposed to split groceries for the kids."

"we can split next time." satoru rolls his eyes at you, as though annoyed by your insistence. "i just got paid yesterday and i wanna waste money. pick something."

you groan. "but there really isn't anything i want. if you're gonna pay yourself then let's just go. i think this is good enough."

satoru looks unamused, his eyes boring into yours—bright, dominating, mesmerizing. "oh really? nothing you want?"

you stare at him in confusion as he walks over to the frozen section and opens the door. after a few seconds of rummaging, he pulls out a box. "not even this?"

your shoulders drop. he's holding a tub of strawberry ice cream.

he casually places it into the cart, eyes trained on your expression as he bends down. "it's your favorite, isn't it?"

your voice comes out throaty, and you wet your lips nervously—his eyes follow the movement at lightning speed. "how'd you know?"

satoru scoffs out a haughty chuckle, reaching up to knock a knuckle at your forehead—it's cold. "i know everything about you, hotshot."

he moves to grip at the cart's handle, standing close enough that you can feel the energy radiating off of him. the side of his hand touches yours, still cold. "now we can go."

he sticks by your side, pushing the cart towards the counters as he casually looks around the store. you briefly realize that his shadow doesn't cover you when you're at his side like this. the thought both scares you and pleases you in a way you didn't think was possible.

"thanks toru," you mumble before you can stop yourself. his gives you a sidelong glance—assessing.

his lips twitch. "it's just ice cream."

"no, it's a lot more than that." you're not really sure why you say it so tragically, and satoru inhales sharply. you notice that his knuckles have turned white as he grips the cart's handles. once again, his eyes dart rapidly over your face—between your eyes and then further down.

then he lets out a hushed laugh, nudging your shoulder with his. "as long as you share with me, hotshot."

everything is always changing, but satoru is constant.

you can't help but smile. "always."

you two don't say much as you head to the counter, taking turns placing all the items on the belt. you quietly watch satoru dig into his wallet, feeling oddly content doing so. you think the stars in your eyes will never disappear.

the clerk eyes you both, and suppresses a fond grin. with your close proximity, shared cart, and satoru's easy going smile, you realize that she's probably misunderstanding, but you don't really know how to correct her. satoru says nothing—he just continues smiling, oddly pleased.

he smiles all the way to the car. you catch yourself doing the same in the rear view mirror.

xv. retribution

the first thing you notice when you kneel in front of suguru is that he's bleeding all over the place. you have the strongest urge to scramble and grip his fingers tightly, just as he had done for you so many years ago—but you don't dare. you're too scared that touching him will ruin you completely.

he says your name quietly, and yet it's the loudest thing in the universe to you—crashing over your ears until you've lost all sense of self.

and then he leans forward, his gaze heavy, and his hand comes up to tangle in your hair. his palm rests on the side of your face just like it did when he visited you at your family home. the last time you saw your geto suguru.

except this time he moves further—crosses a line. presses his lips to yours.

he tastes like blood. you don't pull away.

the feeling of his lips shocks you though, and you stay permanently frozen in place as you feel your eyes glaze over with something you can't put into words.

suguru kisses you slowly, deeply, like he's been waiting but wants to savor it. maybe you've been waiting too. you're not sure. you're so confused.

you don't even process the way his tongue slips past your lips, tasting almost eagerly like your mouth is some kind of conquest he's trying to claim.

it's intrusive, but not unwelcome. slow, but not gentle.

you whimper quietly, feeling acid sting down your cheek as he pulls away and his eyes flutter open. he takes in your expression, and a million emotions pass over his face.

a quiet chuckle. "that bad, huh?"

you shake yourself out of it and try to push away the flush creeping up your neck. "w-what?"

"you're crying," he announces, his furrowed eyebrows paired with a sweet smile that makes him look so unbelievably tragic. "the kiss was that bad?"

your face burns, and you raise a shaking hand up to your cheek—it's wet.

"it wasn't—i didn't—" you struggle. "i mean—"

he smiles ruefully. "i'm sorry. you were saving it for someone special, right?"

there's a charged silence that follows as you scour your brain for the conversation he's referencing. when you find it, your heart sinks.

"you've always been special to me, suguru." your voice comes out quiet, but he hears it all the same. his eyes widen fractionally and you can see a light pink dust his cheeks before he laughs. it's soft, hushed, and looks like it's painful, but he lets it run its course.

it reminds you of a laugh from so long ago, at a beach, with childish screams echoing against the sound of waves. you think you can feel strawberry ice cream dripping down your wrist.

his laughs die down and he's left smiling softly at you. his lavender eyes sparkle with mirth as he tilts his head. "i'm glad. that you were the one i gave a room to."

you can hear waves in your ears, crashing crashing drowning. sand is in your hands, in between your toes, in your eyes.

he coughs, and his palm shakes against your cheek. you wonder why he doesn't just let go already dammit suguru.

you inhale sharply, trying so hard to breathe because what is that stupid thing that's clogging your throat and preventing you from speaking? there's so much you have to say to him. so many questions. so many things left unsaid. your words are failing you.

but silence with suguru has never once been uncomfortable, right?

you raise a shaky hand to press against his where it lays against your neck. "do you regret it?"

he licks his lips, smiling faintly, as though he's enjoying the new taste of you on them. "no."

"why not?" you whisper. your body unconsciously shuffles closer to him, chasing his warmth because gods is he warm. he's always been so warm, even now, in the throes of death.

"my feelings are still the same. i still hate the monkeys for everything they've done, all the crap they cause." he shuts his eyes, smiling that serene smile. you wish he was leaning against a tree trunk. "i still have no resentment to those at jujutsu tech. and you, i still…"

he doesn't continue. you don't think you want him to. there's a flush crawling up his neck, the faint pink a stark contrast to the red of blood. it makes you nauseous.

another deep inhale, and his thumb slides over your jawbone, before brushing under your bottom lip. he stares at the flesh heavily, letting his finger press into it. his tongue swipes over his own lips, eyes darkening further.

and then something shifts in his face, and he smiles mirthlessly. his hand drops from your face—broken contact.

he doesn't tear his gaze away from you, committing your face to memory. it's almost like he wants to say something, but decides against it at the last minute as he slumps further into the wall behind him and shuts his eyes.

when he speaks again, you know that it is all over.

"you're late, satoru."

[saerotonins]

actor!kento headcanons

ft. nanami kento x reader

content warnings: fluff, general actor headcanons, implied nanami x reader

wc: 749

note: i really have fun doing this, let me know if you guys want more for other characters! 🫶🏻

jjk actor au masterlist

 as an actor:

i feel like he would be more humorous and laid back than his character

usually the one who starts teasing his closest castmates (probably haibara and gojo)

treats the 1st and 2nd year casts as his kids

especially the twins, yuuji and sukuna

acts like a father figure to them on set and takes care of them whenever they had a very exhausting scene to film (like fight scenes and such)

he's also the one who breaks the twins up whenever they have playful banter with each other

puts up with gojo more outside their characters and is actually tolerating his antics on set 

will sometimes have a giggle fit whenever someone makes a light mistake during filming like voice cracks and stumbling during fight scenes

believe it or not, he's really the type to join gojo and geto in creating light pranks to the other casts

when a scene needs to be filmed before the sun even goes up, he pulls up to the shoot with coffee and the casts' (even the crew!) favorite drinks

knows their coffee and drink orders BY HEART

the producers love him because he's such a sweetheart

whenever he smiles (an example is during that mahito scene where he was trapped in his domain expansion and in the restaurant with ino), the crew is literally the definition of "got me kicking my feet, giggling, and twirling my hair" LOL literally big fans of him

speaking of mahito, people are surprised to know that they're very good friends and actually went to the same middle school

he is usually the one that he practices his lines with aside from his spouse

he CANNOT for the life of him practice his lines with gojo and geto alone because they will have a giggle fit every time 😭 they can't take it seriously pls

also shares his bentos made by you to his co-stars which they really REALLY love

he also takes his physic very very seriously and works out on a daily basis but it doesn't mean he won't enjoy a good cheat meal (which is also very often because whenever filming gets busy, they resort to take outs) hence he compensates by working out more

gojo really likes to touch and squish his biceps from time to time istg this man

believe it or not, he has an instagram, but his face is barely posted unless it's a promotion or magazine shoot

most of his posts includes foods, behind the scenes of some shoots, and his spouse, you

fans are raving and gushing about it

he also has highlights that are just food, travels, behind the scenes on the shows he is in

as a husband: 

unlike his character, he stays to work overtime most of the time (not that he wants to, it's just he NEEDS to) which you understood head on before you married him and before his stardom 

you usually prepare his bentos before he goes to work 

which is most the time also appreciated by his workmates so you make more portions to satisfy their stomachs as well

but whenever his hectic schedule and yours clash that you don't have the time to prepare him one, he settles with takeouts and convenient store foods which is enough to fill him up but it just does not hit the same :((

he practices his lines with you as a form pf quality time, his schedule is so packed that he takes every single free moment with you as a bonding experience

but sometimes he doesn't because he hates giving you spoilers and wants his scenes to be a surprise for you (*wink wink* hair grab scene *wink wink*)

the kids, the 1st and 2nd year casts (and maybe even gojo), goes to your shared home to crash if they're too tired to go home from the shooting site if your house is the closest

the 1st year trio, especially yuuji, goes by your home often whenever he gets easily bored 

even though you're not the part of the crew, for how often they go to your home, you also treat them as your kids (yes, including gojo)

whenever they're around, it's always so loud and lively but both you and nanami are not complaining 

[woahjo]

The People We Became (Bakugou x Reader)

masterlist | ao3

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Summary: Zombie Apocalypse Au.

The world fell apart almost a year ago and you refused to go with it. Left alone and to your own devices in a world full of monsters, where the dead come back to life, you believe that maybe surviving isn't living.

When Katsuki finds you alone in the woods and on the precipice of collapsing from exhaustion, he decides to bring you back to the house his group calls home. Against your better judgement and hesitancy to become attached, you decide to stay. In this world, everyone has lost someone. No soul is spared the violence, and you start sleeping with Bakugou Katsuki to dull the ache. Somehow, peace finds you anyway, but not without sacrifice.

Chapter Content Warnings:  fem!reader, gender neutral pronouns, strangers to lovers, violence typical of zombies, blood, gore, romance, slow-ish burn (for the emotional stuff), angst, kissin', questions of identity, loss, grief, graphic depictions of death and/or violence, mentions and descriptions of starvation/exhaustion typical of an apocalypse setting, very slight implications of possible sexual violence typical of an apocalypse setting, derealization, depersonalization, weapons (guns, blades, and traps), loss of identity

All content warnings can be found on ao3 with the rest of the series.

Word Count: 14.4k — 53k total on ao3

A/N: it's finally done... i'm sweating. i screamed. i cried. i bled. you know the drill. i am posting this a little differently than my other fics and series. only the first chapter will be posted here on tumblr (this post), with the rest of it broken up into chapters and posted on ao3.. purely because it was originally meant as a one shot and i don't like posting chapters on tumblr. it's not built for that and im tired. anyway, im nervous this is my new baby and im pretty sure my soul is somewhere in here. if u read this, pls come tell me what you think.. it fuels me. enjoy, cry, sweat, or whatever else you do when you read. as always, thank you and i love you.

Two hundred and seventy six. It’s been two hundred and seventy six days since the world completely went to shit. You don’t really count the initial outbreak. The initial outbreak was relatively contained once people found out about it. You quarantined. You stayed inside. All it really took were a handful of idiots. Someone selfish. Someone who panicked and ran instead of facing the world honorably, and that was it. It only took days to lose almost every semblance of a normal life and a week to lose everything else. 

The light of your fire is dim, embers burning low as you sit in a foldable chair beside it. The chair is from a friend, someone you’re not with anymore and who went somewhere you couldn’t follow, and you've got a metal spatula in your hand. You're not sure why you grabbed it when you fled, but panic does weird things to the mind. You absentmindedly wonder why you’ve brought it along with you all this time. There’s no logical reason for you to tote the thing around. A friend had told you how strange it was that you thought to toss it into your bag and continue carrying it. This, along with a few other oddities, are all you managed to take from your house when the world fell to ruin. Everything else are things scavenged along the way or from people you'd met, joined, and lost. 

Maybe it’s because the spatula is somewhat normal, like somehow when you cook the game on your makeshift tin over your shitty fire, you can pretend you’re in your kitchen. A smash burger sounds good right now, with grilled onions on a brioche bun like the ones from the place by your apartment. 

The night is near silent and trees creak and crack like the hulls of great ships under heavy pressure, but the birds don't sing and nothing in the crowded wood you're taking shelter in makes a sound. Well, except for you and the gentle crackle of your fire. 

It’s easy to miss the noise that used to irritate you when the world goes quiet. You used to hate the sounds and lights of passing trucks when they’d cross on the street below your apartment window. Now, you’d do anything for the familiar comfort. The world is so dark and quiet, like it’s holding its breath and waiting for this to be over. The silence is almost too much, so loud that it hurts your ears. You huddle closer to the fire, craving its quiet sound. Focusing on it lessens the anxiety of the other noises. The ones you don’t want to hear. 

Your head is on a swivel. It has been for months. Ever since the outbreak, ever since the dead rose and began consuming and infecting the living, you've kept watch. A paranoid, never ending cycle that you suppose—if left on your own—will burn itself out. You swallow thick and return your attention to the fire, watching the tree line just in front of you for any hint of movement or monsters. 

A branch cracks just behind you. A swift sound, followed by rapid footsteps. You stand, quickly turning your head, only to see a figure a few feet away from you. They move quickly and the dancing light of the fire obscures their features from view. Their eyes, most importantly. You can always tell if someone is dead or alive based on their eyes and the sounds that their joints make. In this light, should this stranger have that milky white film over them, you wouldn't be able to tell. 

You make a small noise, something between a whimper and a shout, as the person comes to a stop in front of you and holds a flashlight directly into your face. You squint, panic in your veins as your eyes adjust as best they can to the sudden assault. It takes you a moment to realize that there is a gun pointed directly at your forehead. The living. This person is alive. You're not sure yet if encountering one of the dead would have been worse. 

"Shut up and drop your weapon," he says in a hurried voice. It's aggressive and threatening. It comes from deep in his chest, like somehow fear has gripped and mutilated it into something violent. 

You raise your shaky hands to your head quickly at the order, screwing your eyes shut in the beam of the flashlight. 

"It's not a weapon!" you shout, voice cracking. "It's a spatula. It's a spatula." 

The words are rushed and heavy, fear seizing your chest as you look down the barrel of the gun. The flashlight turns off, sending you back into the dark. Your eyes fight to adjust, catching the firelight that glints off of the barrel, and you begin to makeout the man’s features. He's big, blonde under the grime, you think. A man, not the best thing to encounter alone at night in times like these. 

You see him hesitate for a moment, eyes darting between you and the silver kitchen item in your hand. You drop it quickly, hoping to appeal to his humanity. 

"Do you have a weapon on you?" he questions, voice a little less urgent. 

You shake your head in response and then shakily look beside the chair, choking out the word “ground”. There's a knife there and a pistol with no bullets. You're a poor shot and you had run out of ammo the previous week. He glances at it, the gun still raised at you, and sidesteps to grab the two items. When he does, he cautiously lowers the weapon and you start to lower your trembling hands. 

Then, as if struck by some realization, the man stomps towards the fire and you jump as he does.

"The fuck are you doing lighting a fire this late?" he says angrily, opening the clip of your pistol. "And with no fucking bullets. Those things may be dead, but they can still fuckin' see. That's a good way to get yourself killed." 

He stomps out the fire as he talks, urgently stamping out what's left of the low-burning logs. 

"I didn't think there were many in the area," you justify, furrowing your eyebrows as you step away from him. 

"And that's a risk you want to take?" he says indignantly. You wonder briefly what business he has worrying about you. 

"What do you want?" you snap, "My food? Weapons? Life? What is it?" 

The man scoffs, "Jesus, none of that. I don’t want your shit." 

You narrow your eyes and take a step back. One thing this world has done is remove trust from every chance encounter, and that was already hard enough when the place was sane. 

"Not all people who camp out in the woods are good," he says. "But I sure as shit didn't expect to find someone like you alone lighting a damn fire. Stupid." 

"There were others," you say indignantly, like somehow that makes it better. "Force of habit, I guess." 

The man pauses for a moment as understanding passes between the two of you. It's a relatable feeling. Everyone has lost someone now. 

"Got a name?" he asks. 

You hesitate in giving it to him and the pause causes him to roll his eyes. “You want me to call you Idiot-with-no-bullets instead?” 

You give him your name and the man nods as if he likes the sound of it, turning it over in his head before inhaling. 

"I'm Katsuki," he furrows his eyebrows. "You're alone?" 

You nod, swallowing down the grief that pushes at your throat. 

"Wasn't always," you respond, "but yeah. Now, I am." 

He nods his understanding. 

"Come with me." 

"Where?" you say instinctively, a defensive edge to your voice. Katsuki looks at you as if you’re stupid, or maybe it's pity, like you're a wounded animal. Probably both. 

"Where the fuck do you think?" he retorts. "We've got a camp a little ways from here. I saw your fire from the watch post we have stationed." 

You look at him like he's a little crazy for even thinking to bring you. Kindness, especially the selfless type, is so rare now and you find it difficult to believe that he’s willing to take you there at no cost. 

He scoffs and rolls his head over his shoulder. "Look, we've got men and women," then he pauses. "Used to have children. We're not gonna hurt you. World's gone to shit, do you really wanna keep at it alone?" 

He's probably right. You've been alone for weeks now, exhausted for longer, and though your common sense tells you not to go off with a strange man in this kind of world, the promise of rest is far too tempting. You nod and glance back to your camp. A measly collection of supplies haphazardly put together. You suppose that it doesn’t look so promising. 

"We'll come back for it when it's light," he says. "I don't know about you, but I'd rather not spend longer in these dark ass woods than I have to." 

"Okay," you say. The presence of another person both sets you on edge and makes you feel the press of fatigue even more. A gun's barrel on your nose followed by the promise of safety and you're going with him? You must be stupider than a horror movie protagonist. "Do you take in a lot of strays?" 

Katsuki looks over his shoulder and you think you see him smile a little at the phrase. 

"If that's what you want to call it," he says begrudgingly. Then, with a softer tone of voice, barely noticeable with the quiet whisper you both have been speaking at. "I'm sure the others won't mind one more."

You nod a little and follow him through the wood, stepping over obstacles. Your eyes have adjusted to the dark, but you feel unsteady on your feet. Everything you’ve ever learned about this world tells you that maybe you shouldn’t go with him. What if they’re dangerous? It’s easy to lie about women and children, about a community that doesn’t exist. Or worse, it’s easy to fool yourself that where you are is good, but you don’t know yet if he’s the type to delude himself. He doesn’t seem it. 

The two of you walk for what feels like forever, even if it is only a little over half a mile. Your feet have been aching for days and every step you take feels like a blade into the heel. Katsuki seems steady, his gun secured at his hip and a large knife in his dominant hand. He doesn’t have the flashlight out, but he seems sure-footed and takes every step in stride, as if he’s too heavy to be swayed by any missed step. 

As you move, you can barely make out his back in the white tank top he wears. You use it as a landmark, following the glowing white as it catches the light from the moon. Like chasing a ghost through the trees. 

Then, the wood eases up. The trees grow sparse and the suffocating humidity of the forest eases into a more breathable, open-air breeze. Katsuki steps out into a clearing. It’s relatively small, for how large the world is, but it’s some of the most open space you’ve seen in a while. The feeling of stepping out into the tall grass, where you’re both visible to any wandering thing, sends a rush of fear through you. 

By the edge of the clearing, there’s a small house with a short steeple. It almost looks like a Christian church, but you get the sense that it’s likely a barn. That must be the watchtower and you wonder just how good the view of the forest is from up there if Katsuki managed to see the light of your fire. How many other people had seen your fires over the weeks and not made it out to confront you? How close had you come before to safety or annihilation? 

"Hey!" a girl's voice calls. "He's back!" 

In the near distance, you can see a large and dimly lit house. It looks a little worn down, but soft and hardly noticeable light emanates from it in a way that makes it seem inviting.You can’t make out its exact silhouette and night blurs just how broken-down it is, but you can tell that people live there in the same way you can tell when someone has just left a room. 

Someone runs across the field to you both. It looks like a man and a woman, maybe around Katsuki's age. They move quickly through the tall grass and for a moment, the urgency that they move with frightens you. You worry that your presence will ignite some protective sort of panic. You linger back, letting Katsuki grow a little farther from you as they call out to him. 

“Yeah, yeah," he half-shouts, no longer seeming to care about keeping quiet. Guess that's what happens when there's a group. "I found the fire I mentioned." 

The two come to a stop in front of him, resting their hands on their hips as they catch the breath they lost. 

"We started to get a little worried," says the girl. She's pretty, with big eyes and curly hair that looks like it probably used to be dyed. "You've been gone for a while." 

"Well, I'm back," he says. 

"And you brought a friend," the other man says, sounding shocked. His tone is noticeably kind. The boisterous type of kind and when he smiles, you can see that he has sharp canines. His hair is straight, sticking out in different directions, and tinged with red in this light.

"More like an acquaintance," Katsuki says. “I found them in the woods with a fire and an empty clip. Felt like their blood would be on my hands if I didn’t bring them back.” The red-haired man gives him a telling look and Katsuki scoffs in response and turns to the girl. "Get them settled, Mina, will you?" The girl called Mina nods and Katsuki takes off toward the house without another word. 

"You're lucky," she says, pausing when you flinch as she steps closer. "You're gettin' the last solo room in the place. Kirishima, is it set up?" 

Kirishima shrugs his shoulders. "You'd have to ask Izuku. He'd know all about that, but I can go check." 

Mina shakes her head and turns her attention to you, giving you a quick once over with her eyebrows pulled together.

"You must be tired.” 

When you nod, she gives you an empathetic smile and motions for you to come with her. "We'll fix that. You hungry?" 

"What do you think?" you manage, saliva pooling in your mouth. "Do you have food?" 

"Plenty," she smiles. "not quite enough for leftovers just yet though, don’t tell anyone." 

You smile awkwardly. Who on earth would you tell? 

"Sounds like a good deal," you say. 

You follow Mina up to the house. Around it, there are a few parked cars. They look like they could pull out at any moment, and through the dust covered windows, you can just make out supplies in the back seats as you pass. In the distance, you can see the fuzzy silhouette of the barn you’d assumed was a watchtower in the dark of the field and you figure that maybe it used to be a place to keep livestock. 

Mina doesn't say much to you as you pass through the field, and when you walk into the door, the first thing you notice is a large group of people seated at a dining table. They all look up at you when you enter and it's with a bit of shock that you register their faces as healthy. Well, healthier. These people live well. Something stirs in your chest, both anxiety and excitement at the thought of possibly having found somewhere safe. They blink at you for a moment, exchanging looks that all end up landing on Katsuki. 

"This is the group. Well, most of us," Mina says pleasantly and with a light huff. "That's Izuku, Denki, Ochako, Sero, and you already know the handsome guy on the end there. Kiri's probably checking to see if the room is half decent.." They all greet you with a glad murmur. "Group, this is..." 

She looks at you expectantly. When you tell them your name, you can't help but look at Katsuki who already knows it. He raises his eyebrows unconsciously and turns his attention to the glass in front of him. 

There’s an awkward pause as you stand in the doorway, suddenly conscious of just how dirty you must look. Remnants of an older world, you suppose. No one really worries about things like that anymore.

“Uhm…” you search for something to say, but your people skills seem to have left you. 

“You’re okay,” Mina says lightly. “Plenty of time to get to know you when you’ve rested and had something to eat.” 

Mina sits you down at a chair that she pulls in from the other room. It doesn't match the other ones in the dining room, but you suppose no one is really thinking of the decor in their house anymore. It's only now that you realize the house has electricity.

"You have power?" you say incredulously, looking at the center light in the dining room on its low setting. 

"Mhm," Mina hums as she sits down next to you and spoons a helping of vegetables onto your plate. "It's got a generator. We got lucky finding this place. I don't think many of us would be alive if we hadn't." 

Those listening in the group nod their affirmation. 

"It draws from well water too," she adds. "With the right care, the place practically runs on its own. Hard work but what isn't nowadays?" 

“Like you do any of the heavy lifting," Sero scoffs across from her.

"That's not fair," Katsuki adds with a slick smirk, "you know damn well none of our vegetables would be so well socialized if she didn't use them like a damn diary all day." 

The group laughs a little and Mina rolls her eyes and sits back in the chair. You avoid looking at anyone, shoveling the food into your mouth. You’re salivating an almost embarrassing amount, struggling to eat at a normal pace. There’s something about food cooked inside, about the way food tastes when you can smell it wafting in from the kitchen. 

"Don't worry," she turns to you, as if you’re at all concerned with the implication that she doesn’t do much work, "they know we’d hardly have vegetables at all if it weren't my job to tend them. I used to garden quite a bit before all of this." 

Sero tosses her a sideways glance and you get the sense that maybe it isn’t just her doing it. 

"Mina does a lot of the garden stuff," Ochako pitches in, her voice hesitant. "We all sort of just do what we can." 

You can’t really keep up with the conversation and instead just blink at her for a moment before turning back to your food. Maybe that’s rude, but you don’t have the energy to consider it. There’s food in front of you. Food that doesn’t taste like it’s been poorly slaughtered or rotting in a cabinet for months. 

The group at the table with you shifts back into what you feel is their normal conversation and you watch them through your peripheral. You can’t relax yet, maybe you never will. Always on watch with your guard up. 

They pass the dishes around the table, plates going from hand to hand over mismatched sets of silverware. The action feels strange to you. Your chest squeezes at the thought. Just a few weeks ago, you’d done this around a fire with the people you loved. You’d passed a too-hot-to-touch pot around a circle of friends, laughing quietly at the little moments of joy you could find. It feels far away now and jealousy rouses beside hope as you sit. 

“So, where did you come from?” Izuku at the end of the table asks. 

It takes you a moment to realize that he’s talking to you and there’s an edge to his voice that has everyone at the table sitting up with curiosity. You stare at him for a moment, exhausted and defeated and unable to muster the words. 

“Leave them be,” Katsuki says, looking up from his plate. “They just got here. They’re probably freaked out.” 

The table goes a little quiet, a hush falling over it. You look around as glances are exchanged before Mina stands up quickly and quietly claps her hands together. 

“I think,” she says with an awkward laugh, “it may be time for bed.” 

Mina turns to you. “I’ll show you where you can sleep.” 

You nod, standing up and turning to the group with furrowed eyebrows. You want to thank them, to tell them that you’re grateful for the meal and their kindness, but the words don’t come. Instead, you meet Katsuki’s gaze, grateful for the intervention, but suspicious at such forthcoming kindness. He scoffs a little and turns away. 

—

“It’s just up here,” Mina says as she guides you through the house.

You pass rooms with their doors ajar. They are lived in, with unmade beds and glasses of clean water on nightstands. It’s like something out of a life gone by, with a few less amenities. You can imagine a family moving through this house. Girls in school uniforms calling through the halls about a stolen hair clip. Now, you picture these people doing that. Living and not just surviving.

“The bathroom is across the hall,” she says. “You can take a shower if you want. I’ll leave a towel and some clothes in there just in case.”  

You nod. 

“No worries if you don’t,” Mina adds in a whisper. “When I first met everyone, I didn’t undress to bathe for days so… take your time. We won’t be offended.” 

She shuts the door behind her when she leaves and you stumble back onto the bed, shocked by just how soft it feels after spending weeks on the floor. It’s not much, but it’s nicer than anything you’ve experienced in the last nine months, and there's a working shower. You haven’t had a shower since everything fell apart and the layer of grime on your skin is so thick that you can feel it. You haven’t felt safe enough to properly wash since you’d lost the rest of your group, only stopping to rinse your body in streams you pass if the thought occurred to you. The idea of running water and a shower is near euphoric. 

You probably shouldn’t. It may not be wise to shower tonight. You still don’t know these people or what they’re capable of, but the temptation of being clean is too great and as soon as you hear Mina close the bathroom door and walk away, you hurry across the hall on the balls of your feet. 

The bathroom looks old and the sink is white porcelain, eggshell now with a lack of care. The shower has a bathtub in it and though it’s cloudy, there’s a mirror over the sink where you catch the first clear glimpse you’ve had of yourself in weeks. 

You don’t know who you’re looking at. The person in the mirror is nearly unrecognizable. Their eyes are wide and frightened, wild like an animal’s, and their face is covered in a layer of grime that looks like it can never be washed out. Their hair is unruly, sticking out in some areas and matted down with blood in others. This is a person you’ve never seen or met before. Someone you would have avoided only a year ago if you’d ever encountered them. 

You reach up to touch your face, running your hand over the dried blood that has made a home on the underside of your jaw. How long has it been there? Have you always looked so unwell? So sick in mind and body? The promise of a shower grows unbearably pleasant. 

The knob squeaks when you turn it, screeching as the pipes hum and clang to life. Water spits out in a few bursts before raining down from the faucet and hitting the back of the tub in a steady thrum. It sounds a little bit like music to you, constant and heavy, and it gives the impression of normalcy as you begin undressing. 

The fabric of your clothes sticks to your skin, peeling from your body in an unbearable and disgusting way. You don’t look at your body in the mirror. In fact, you avoid it entirely. Not recognizing your face was enough, but your body—a part of yourself you never really recognized—would drive you over the edge. 

Then, you pull the shower curtain back and stick your hand under the water, stepping into it fully with a deep sigh. The water is lukewarm. They probably turned off the heater to conserve power and allow the main generator to function for longer. That’s fine. Beggars can’t be choosers and everyone is a beggar nowadays. Besides, it’s warm enough outside that the water isn’t too cold as it is. In the winter, you probably wouldn’t be able to shower and the pipes might freeze entirely until the following spring. 

There’s a normalcy that you settle into as you wash your body. You return to muscle memory, running your hands over your skin and scrubbing the grime out. It’s simultaneously like the first shower of your life and as if you’ve been doing it every day. You return to a state of pleasant, familiar humanity as you wash away dirt that has built up for weeks. You feel as it pours off of you, see it run down your body onto the porcelain of the tub and swirl down the drain. It’s dirt and dried blood that has been caked onto your skin. You worry that even after washing, it will leave a permanent mark. 

The person in the mirror when you get out of the shower is in stark contrast to the person who went into it. They’re someone that you recognize. You could almost convince yourself that nothing ever changed. Your water-soaked skin is so familiar to you, that you could be getting out of the shower and dressing to go to work. If it weren’t for the look in your eyes, you could have fooled yourself. Something undefinable has changed in you, something that you will carry with you forever. You glance at yourself in the foggy mirror and think that there is no going back. 

The house is quiet when you dry yourself and open the bathroom door. You step across the hall on the balls of your feet, careful not to make any noise, and when you push the bedroom door open, you do a visual sweep to make sure that it’s safe out of habit. 

Your body is exhausted. You are so thoroughly tired that you think you could collapse at any moment, but when you sit down on the bed in your fresh clothes, you find yourself restless. This place is new to you and you’re unsure if the safe feeling is your mind playing desperate tricks on you or the real thing. The lamp by your bed is on, casting a yellow glow across the bedsheets and the dark wood furniture. Come to think of it, you didn’t get a good look at the house when you came in and the thought starts to bother you as you stare at the closed door to the hallway. 

Someone could be behind it. They could be waiting for you to lay down, to sleep, before doing something awful. You almost feel guilty for thinking this way about them. They’ve fed you, given you a shower, given you fresh clothes. Luxuries you weren’t sure even existed anymore, yet you’re sitting here doubting them, wishing you had your pistol or knife.

The bedroom door creaks as you open it. You wince, nervous that you’ve disturbed the quiet peace of the house and that everything will come crashing down as quickly as it seemed to come together. The hallway is dark, save for some light coming from under two doors at the end of the hall. One of them turns out as you creep past it to the stairs, and you hear the distinct sound of box springs squeaking as someone crawls into bed. You let go of the breath you’d been holding, straightening up as you relax into the late-night environment. 

The house looks old even from the inside. It gives the impression of having once been dirty and in near disrepair. There are dust stains and dull spots that no amount of scrubbing could get out. You can almost picture how this place may have looked when they found it and it’s entirely possible that it had been abandoned before the actual outbreak. Someone run out of their home for lack of money. What a trivial thing now. 

The stairs are sturdy, probably held together so well by the foundation of the house, and they’re made of dark wood. They’re steep too, the kind that a baby or old person might trip over, and you hold the railing to calm the shaking of your legs as you slowly feel your way down. You can see the light on in the kitchen from around the corner, spreading out onto the floor of the old fashioned drawing room. Dishes clink in the kitchen, like someone is washing them, and you jump a little at the noise as you creep around the corner. 

Kirishima is standing at the sink with his back to you, whispering something to someone beside him. The expanse of his back is broad, moving every time he goes to run his hand over the dish in front of him. Then, he turns to look at you and you see Mina pop her head around the corner. 

“Oh,” Kiri says, “did you need something?” 

You shake your head. “Not really, I just couldn’t sleep.” 

Kiri nods sympathetically as if he knows the feeling. “Well, you look like you feel a little better at least.” 

You pad over to where he’s doing the dishes and Mina offers you a soft smile and a knowing look. It all seems so normal. Doing the dishes, whispering quietly as they do. Something about it screams a kind of humanity you haven’t experienced in a long while, even with your last group. 

“Are you sure we can’t get you something?” Mina says, furrowing her brows. 

“Why are you all being so nice to me?” You ask. “You don’t know the first thing about me.” 

“Is there some reason why we shouldn’t be nice to you?” Kiri says over his shoulder. 

“No,” you shake your head. “I just think it’s reckless, that’s all. I could have been anyone.” 

Kirishima and Mina exchange a look. They glance at each other, like they’re debating on saying something, and then Kiri turns and rests his palms on the back of the sink. He looks at Mina. 

“We don’t usually decide to do this so quickly,” she admits. “We’re friendly, but nobody’s that friendly anymore.” 

Kiri nods his agreement and you listen quietly, trying to determine if they plan to toss you back out into the woods in the morning. 

“But, Katsuki doesn’t usually bring people in,” she continues. 

“He’s a little more closed off than the rest of us,” Kirishima adds. “He’s a good guy, just takes a while to warm up, is all.” 

“Mhm,” Mina says. 

“What does that have to do with me?” you ask. “This is nice and all, but I’m sure you get why I’m wary.” 

“He’s a good judge of character,” Kiri adds earnestly. “He doesn’t bring people in often, but when he does, he’s usually right.” 

You nod, not quite understanding. Sure, you don’t plan to do anything terrible. In fact, you’re content to accept their kindness and stay, if they’d let you. Anything is better than being alone, but their blind trust in one man’s judgment of character makes you uneasy. 

“He was alone for a really long time,” Mina adds. “A lot of us were. I got lucky meeting Kirishima early on, but Katsuki’s luck was a little less fortuitous.” 

“So you all just… happened upon each other by chance?” You ask. 

“Yeah, pretty much,” Mina says. “It was me and Kiri for a long time. Just the two of us. We’d found Izuku and Katsuki together a while later, but they didn’t seem to like each other all that much. We still haven’t really figured that out, especially because they’re so close now. Ochako and Sero ended up cornered together by accident. We found them just before we found this place, and Denki just sort of showed up here one day and promised to fix the generator in exchange for safety. That was months ago. We’ve been like this since.”

“So you’re all strays,” you say and Mina laughs a little and looks at Kiri. 

“Sure,” she says. “We’re all strays. There were others too. Shoji. Jirou. She was Denki’s girlfriend.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say with a frown. It feels pointless to apologize for the dead, if you get caught up in it, you’d be apologizing forever. 

“Don’t be,” Kiri adds. “But best not to bring her up. It was pretty recent and Denki’s only just started to get over it.” 

You swallow thick and nod a little. 

“Anyway,” Mina says, “we can’t really explain it. We just trust him. We trust Katsuki. That’s all.” 

“Hm,” you hum, understanding that to a degree. 

You trusted the people in your group. If they believed in someone, you were willing to as well, so you suppose you can understand a little where they’re coming from. 

“What are you talking about,” Katsuki rounds the corner, walking into the kitchen and putting his water bottle under the sink. 

“Nothing really,” Mina says. 

Katsuki furrows his eyebrows and then looks at you. He gives you a once over, taking in your new clothing before scoffing lightly. 

“Don’t you look cozy,” he says. “You get settled?” 

“When can I go get my stuff?” You ask. 

“Someone’s eager,” he says through lightly gritted teeth. “Didn’t I tell ya we could go in the morning? Besides, what’s there really to miss in that lot of junk?” 

“Katsuki!” Mina quietly chides. 

“I have things I care about there,” you say. “Things I’m not ready to lose.” 

Katsuki blinks at you for a second before swearing under his breath. “We’ll leave when you get up in the morning.” 

“You don’t have to come with me,” you say, frowning a bit at his sour attitude. 

“Like hell,” he scoffs. “What if the dead are waiting back there for you?” 

“I made it this far on my own,” you respond. 

Katsuki nods for a second. “I’m going. Come find me in the morning.” 

He walks off and around the corner. You hear him go up the stairs, followed by the distinct click of a bedroom door shutting. 

“Don’t pay too much attention to that,” Mina says. “It’s past his bedtime.” 

“You’ll get used to him,” Kiri adds. 

“Right,” you say, swallowing down your frustration in favor of trying to be appreciative of the help. You sway on your feet a little and then steady yourself. “I’m going to go to sleep. Thank you for the meal and the bed.” 

Mina and Kiri nod, but you don’t stick around to hear a response. Fatigue creeps up on you. It ambushes your senses and you go from feeling dream-like to delusional in a matter of moments. You make your way up the stairs, your body feeling heavy as lead, and wobble your way into the bedroom they’re letting you stay in. 

When your head hits the pillow, you’re out. The world around you fades to dark and just before you sleep, you swear that you can hear the sounds of cars passing on the highway. A busy night, Saturday maybe, and people go about their daily lives outside of the window the way that they always have. They live, never the wiser to just how quickly things fall apart and how little it takes for our humanity to leave us. 

— 

Mornings in this place are boisterous. The sun coming through the lone window in your room wakes you up and you can hear the calls of busy people getting to work outside. There are voices from the porch out front that your window looks over and though you can’t see them, you get the sense that they’re having a pleasant conversation. 

As you rouse, you come to the realization of just how exhausted you’d really been. They probably saved your life by bringing you to this place, feeding you, and offering you a bed. In hindsight, it’s easy to see just how little you had left in you. You get the sense now that you’d been running on an empty tank for days, slowly coming to an inglorious, gruesome, sputtering stop. 

Things seem a little clearer, like the sunlight is somehow less bleak than it had been the days previous and you feel a little bit like you have a new lease on life. There are no big emotions, no swells of hope or humanity just yet, and you dread the moment you are rested enough to let grief consume you. Right now, you can’t feel it, but there is a fear in you that as you get to know these people who live relatively beautifully in an ugly world, it will weigh you down so much that you’ll never be able to outrun it. 

You wonder if they’ll let you stay. They very well may not, even with the way they were talking last night. Strangers are more dangerous than they’ve ever been and if they ask you whether or not you’ve killed someone, you refuse to lie to them. Sitting up on the bed, you mull over the very real possibility that you could be back out there on your own again in a matter of days and you don’t even have that many good acts under your belt to plead your case. You’re just a person and you’ve done what you needed to in order to survive. Now, you’re not sure if that’s enough. 

You swallow thick, wandering over to the mirror on the dresser. It’s fogged, though less than the bathroom mirror, and you can make out your features a little better than you could last night. You feel a bit more sane, though you still don’t recognize the frightful and distrustful look in your eyes. Like a wounded animal. Inside your head, you acknowledge that you are completely different from the person you were two hundred and seventy seven days ago. 

The voices grow louder as you climb down the stairs, more secure on your feet than you felt last night. You can hear them talking about the generator, as well as a name you don’t recognize. 

“He should be back by now,” a woman says. “Shoto’s never gone longer than a day or two, max.” 

“We shouldn’t jump to conclusions,” another woman says with a worried bite in her voice. Mina, maybe? “We’re only a few hours into the day. He probably got holed up somewhere.” 

“Someone needs to go look for him,” a man says.

“And what? Risk getting yourself killed?” the first woman says. “No, it doesn’t make sense. We need you here.” 

“You’d rather we leave him to die on his own?” 

“No one’s fuckin’ dying.” 

You recognize Katsuki’s voice. 

“He’s perfectly capable of going on a gasoline run,” he continues. “He’s done it before.” 

“I should have gone with him,” says the same woman. 

“On that leg? You wouldn’t have made it halfway to town, let alone there and back,” his voice raises a little. “Don’t be stupid. He’ll be back.” 

You clear your throat and step around the corner. The group turns to face you quickly at the sound, their eyes wide for a moment before relaxing. You can’t sneak up on anyone nowadays. 

“Sorry,” you say, “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Is everything okay?” 

It’s not your business, but you ask anyway, wondering for yourself about the safety of Shoto. 

“Fine,” Izuku says, shaking his head. You recognize him to be the one who'd vouched for going after their friend. Katsuki takes a step away from the broad man as he says this. “Nothing for you to worry about. Did you rest?” 

Izuku smiles gently at you, his chest inflating a little at the question. The movement broadens his shoulders and you realize that he stands almost a head taller than Katsuki. You look briefly between the two of them before nodding. 

“I did,” you say. “Thank you.” 

“Nothing wrong with a little hospitality now and then,” he smiles and you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows at the distinct hesitance in his voice. 

“I don’t think we’ve met,” the woman standing across from Izuku says. “I’m Momo. Sorry I wasn’t there to meet you last night. I’ve been a little under the weather.” 

You introduce yourself to her and glance down at her leg. Her ankle is swollen and wrapped in a bandage. Her sneaker laces are untied at the top to make room for the swelling and you can see that she’s guarding that side of her leg. 

“Is it…?” you grimace, taking an instinctive step away from her. You almost feel bad for it, but sometimes good people make bad decisions when loved ones get bit. 

“No,” she says quickly, “no, it isn’t. Caught an edge in an old chain link fence on the property a couple days back.” 

Momo smiles slightly at you as if to reassure you. She’s really beautiful, with thick dark hair pulled back into a somewhat messy ponytail. Her eyes are bright, like she’s engaged in lively conversation, and you find yourself feeling a little sad for her. She’ll need medicine soon, if they can get it. Infections set in easily these days and you get the sense that even she knows that she may not have long without it. Maybe that’s something else their friend Shoto set out to find. 

“I assume you’ll be wanting to go get your supplies?” Katsuki says, cutting the conversation short. Maybe he could sense the sour turn of thoughts. 

“Ready when you are,” you respond with a nod. 

Katsuki glances at Izuku, who gives him a slightly disapproving look. 

“Someone get them something to eat,” Katsuki says. “...I’ll get my shit ready.” 

“Fig jam…” Mina mumbles as she motions for you to follow her to the kitchen. 

You oblige her, not exactly jumping to turn down a meal. She walks you into the kitchen and opens up a cabinet, where she pulls out a jar filled with a dark and seed filled paste. It’s a jam, sealed in a jar that looks older than what’s inside of it. The seal breaks open with a pleasant pop. 

“This stuff is so good,” she says to you over her shoulder, pulling out a package of crackers that have likely gone stale. “You won’t believe it.” 

She spreads the jam on a few crackers and sets it in front of you on a plate, pushing it across the counter towards you. 

“It’s fig jam,” she says with a smile. “Homemade.” 

You look down at the plate, your mouth watering at the prospect of something sweet like this. It’s been so long since you've had fresh jam. It could be as long as 10 years. You don’t think you’ve had it since you were a kid, when jam came easily and you preferred the processed brands at the supermarket to the ones your mom used to make sometimes. 

You raise the cracker to your mouth and stuff it in with little grace. The sweetness spreads across your tongue as soon as you bite into the stale cracker. It fizzes and pops almost, the sugar melting across your tongue as the seeds crack softly between your teeth. The smile that hits your face is completely involuntary and though you know that nine months ago, this jam wouldn’t have been much, today it is something extraordinary. 

Mina nods a kind of girlish agreement, like the way people used to when they had their friend try something at their favorite restaurant. 

“We got here in the fall. I want to say late October or early November?” she offers. “We were starving and there wasn’t enough food to feed all of us. By that time there were like… nine of us.” 

You listen as you eat your crackers. 

“This place was in such an awful state,” she laughs. “I mean, really terrible. But, it was big and there was a fig tree in the back. A little thing, probably only a few years old and it had fruit on it. We ate so many of them that if the world were normal, we’d have sworn off of them forever. When we realized that the house actually had some old food in it,” she interrupts herself “-nothing good, canned stuff mostly- we decided to jar up the rest of the figs so that they didn’t rot.” 

She smiles at you like it’s a pleasant memory, but you can only think about how hungry they must have been. Your stomach growls as you eat. 

“I know it doesn’t sound like much,” she says, “but for some reason it’s a really nice memory. Honestly, we’re lucky we didn’t die.” 

Mina laughs a little. 

“I mean,” she continues, “we didn’t even clear the area before we started pulling at the figs and throwing them into our mouths.” 

You tilt your head at her and furrow your eyebrows with a small smile. 

“You’re really forthcoming with information.” 

“You just seem a little hesitant, is all,” she answers. 

“Can you blame me?” 

Mina shrugs her shoulders but doesn’t really offer an answer. You assume it’s because she can’t, because Mina has the same doubts everyone carries with them in this world. All of the what ifs people would think about before they slept have become more prevalent than anyone would have ever liked. 

“The jam is good,” you say, trying to be friendly in the same way she is. “Even if it is months old.” 

“Things keep well in jars,” Mina defends softly, smiling a little as she gets another out of you. 

This place feels like a little slice of paradise. A blessing from whoever lived here before and kept a garden stocked with vegetables. From someone who lived in an old house with stables and well-water, who kept canned food past its expiration date. It feels almost too good to be true, like these people live in a bubble bound to pop. 

“You ready?” Katsuki thuds into the kitchen with an empty backpack slung over his shoulder. 

You turn, startled by his sudden appearance and nod as you quickly finish chewing the last cracker. Katsuki furrows his eyebrows as he watches the way you scarf it down. 

When you stand from the table, Katsuki turns on his heel to make for the front door and you follow with a light step. Mina says something about staying safe, but you don’t respond, glancing once over your shoulder at the girl. 

It’s strange, the world has made you wishy-washy and uncommitted. You never used to be like that, never so distrusting as to second guess someone’s kindness the moment your back is turned to them, and you’re certainly not the type to be friendly one moment and closed off the next. Now though, you find that doubt creeps in easily through cracks and any foundation that didn’t exist before, seems to be swallowed before you can finish building it. 

Katsuki leads you back across the small clearing you’d come through the night before. It looks different in the day, almost romantic, and it lacks any of the ominous feeling it had the previous evening. He steps over mounds in the dirt from moles and gophers that have made lawns their new home and you try to mimic his steps, sinking occasionally into a particularly soft patch of dirt. Every now and then, Katsuki glances behind him to check that you’re still there and you offer him a forced smile that he never returns.

You catch up to him when you hit the trees, sticking close at his side like something will come and take you away if you’re not. It’s unintentional, but you don’t have a weapon on you. Your knife is back at your makeshift camp, along with the unloaded pistol and your trusty spatula. 

“How do you know where we’re going?” You ask in a whisper. 

Katsuki tosses a look at you over his shoulder. “I’m good with directions.” 

His tone is clipped, like he’s pissed about something, and your expression sours at it. Sure, you get it but it irritates you to some small degree. You hadn’t asked him to come along. In fact, you’d have been fine getting back here to collect your stuff on your own. You’d have asked for a knife and set out without a second thought, if only because being alone in the woods with some guy was less preferable than doing it by yourself. Of course, some guy also probably saved your life, but you’re not quite ready to relinquish your trust completely. 

“Thanks for coming,” you decide. A peace offering. 

Katsuki doesn’t answer and you furrow your brows a little bit. You wonder if he’s always been like this or if the end of the world brought on the loss of his manners. 

Then, he stops, taking you by the arm and pulling you down beside a bush. You gasp and he puts his hand over your mouth to silence you. There’s the urge to bite him, to catch the fleshy bit connecting his thumb and pointer finger between your teeth and bite down till he bleeds, but you stop when you catch what he’s looking at. 

Two of the living dead crouch by a tree, clicking their tongues as they eat something just out of sight. You furrow your eyebrows, eyes widening at the horror of it. For some reason, seeing them always brings about a round of momentary shock. You’ve yet to let go of the hounding thought that they used to be people and sometimes have to reorient yourself to the world you’re in now. 

You catch Katsuki’s eye behind you, his calloused hand still clasped over your mouth, and nod your head. It’s a silent communication that you’ve seen what he has and he removes his palm from your face to grab a knife tucked into his belt, passing it to you quickly. 

The two infected haven’t noticed the two of you yet, but they will soon, if only by the smell of your flesh which has yet to rot. You hear Katsuki let out a breath, as if to calm his heart, and do the same. There’s time to look at them like this and you’re struck by how human you can pretend they are in your head. Well, you suppose they were human once, now they’re a disease using someone’s skin as a mask. 

Infected people aren’t quick, that’s one thing to be grateful for. Back when the outbreak first started, the CDC had released information on what to look out for in those who might have contracted the virus. The first was obviously a bite wound from another infected person, but you can tell from other symptoms. Early symptoms are average. Body aches, fever, lethargy, and delirium. All things you might see with a nasty flu. Then, infection of the wound site, twitching, foggy eyes—like low-grade cataracts—that develop within a matter of hours or days, severe disorientation, aversion to food, insomnia, with the final symptom being a coma that no one ever wakes up as themselves from. 

These are the symptoms that people are conscious for. The ones they feel. The sickness that people tried to nurse others back from. There is no coming back though, not alive at the very least. The virus attacks the nerves throughout the brain and body, that’s what causes the twitching and convulsions. It’s what ultimately kills us, and it's what they think causes the bodies to come back. 

Most infected will crack when they move. It’s the cartilage breaking down as the bones grind together and crack as they’re weakened from the marrow out. They twitch like rabid animals, unable to keep masterful control of their bodies because they are run like puppets from the brain stem. You don’t know if they think. If somehow the people they used to be are still in there, unable to stop themselves from consuming and spreading the virus to others. All you really know is that they twitch and click, functions of the brain that still remain. Tiny impulses sent through the synapses. You imagine it to be like the way you twitch when you sleep, an arm here or a leg there, the way someone might call out with their voice to a room with no one in it. 

Maybe the infected think they’re dreaming. A nightmare that they never wake up from, like those of us who have to put them down. You could see it as a mercy from that perspective. You have an easier time rationalizing putting a knife in someone’s skull if you convince yourself that they’re silently begging for it. 

Katsuki shifts his weight and looks at you. He mouths the words no guns and you nod, briefly wondering where the fuck he thinks you could have gotten a gun from. 

Then, you kick off and run with Katsuki towards the infected. They don’t really have time to begin moving towards you both. You’re faster than them, but you hear the crack of their legs as they stand from their crouched positions, pulled in at the idea of their next meal.

Katsuki takes the farther one, sinking the knife into the soft spot of its temple with relative ease. You switch yourself off and take the one closest only a few moments later, sending your blade through the top of its skull. That happens to you when you have to do this. You turn yourself off for a bit, just so that you don’t have to remember the way it feels to hit the soft part of someone’s brain. You didn’t used to do that, only starting when you realized that there’s no going through this world anymore without it. 

Katsuki wipes the blood on his pants. It’s brown, no longer oxygenated, and the area around you begins to reek. You notice, but for some reason the smell of decomposition doesn’t register in your brain and you continue on behind him. 

There are a few beats of silence, save for twigs breaking under your feet, before Katsuki speaks up. 

“You okay?” It’s barely above a whisper and you wouldn’t have caught it were you not listening for the distinctive crack of human bones. 

“Yeah,” you say, continuing forward. 

The campsite rounds into view and in this light, with your full night’s sleep under your belt, you can see just how pitiful it looks. A tent that you’d hastily put up before nightfall, the remains of your stamped out fire, the folding chair which has since been knocked over, and your weapons on the floor covered by a few leaves disturbed by the wind. 

You snatch them up and move to grab your backpack out of the tent. The inside is shitty too and your torn sleeping bag hadn’t even been rolled out yet. You pick up the bag, returning to the folding chair as Katsuki begins to take down the tent. The polyester and nylon blend zips together as he makes quick work of folding it. Then, he kicks some dry brush over the remains of the fire, like he’s covering your tracks. 

“The next person that comes through here might not be alone,” he says plainly. “And they may have more bullets than you did.” 

“Right,” you respond. Your voice sounds a little far off and you settle your backpack on your shoulder in one quick motion. 

“Got everything?” 

You nod, following him as he heads out in the direction you both came from. The two of you pass the bodies of the infected you’d killed. The smell has permeated the air, lingering like how it does in cities, only less pungent. Their fogged eyes stare blankly at nothing, expressions plain and unreadable. You pass and try not to think much about it. 

Katsuki is a few feet ahead of you and he doesn’t glance back to make sure you’re following. You could leave now and never get attached to these people. You could head off in another direction and never have to think twice about it. No more worrying about who you could lose, about who’s next to become one of the sick masses. Just you by yourself. Then, when you finally kick the can, someone else can put you down the way you did to those strangers. 

Is there really a point to it anymore? To community or living in general. No one is as they once were. Does that make it fantasy to live in their beautiful bubble? Could you even find it in yourself to pretend again, to make nice and play house in that place? They saved your life, sure. They fed you, clothed you, bathed you, but for what point? Tomorrow, you could end up back in the woods, lighting fires with twigs you found in the brush, paranoid that someone would find you or the fire would spread. 

You watch Katsuki’s back as he moves, shoulders shifting with each step. His shirt is stained, white turned eggshell from the wear and tear of time. It seems so off to you that he looks relatively clean, like he lives well. 

Fear strikes you as you realize that your rambling thoughts have merit. Anything you fear now has become real and loss is so tangible to you that you can squeeze it in your hand. They could turn you out. Tomorrow night you could begin the starve and step all over again, moving from place to place, talking to yourself, filling your hours with paranoid thoughts like these that plague you when you’re alone. Is that worse than loss? If you’re alone long enough, you’d probably forget what you’re missing. Losing anyone else could make the wound fresh. For now, the hunger wins out. 

Katsuki jogs ahead of you to get to the house. Momo is on the porch waving him in and he hurries up the steps and bursts through the front door. As you approach, you can hear voices, some of which are relieved, others hurried. When you enter the room, you find a man standing there whom you’ve never seen before, Shoto maybe. 

“A plus one,” the man looks up, tilting his head at you in an odd way. 

“Katsuki’s,” Kiri says with a low smirk. 

Shoto’s eyes widen as he peers at his friend, clutching what looks like an injured shoulder. Katsuki just huffs his irritation. 

“Well, that’s rare,” Shoto says. 

“What’s rare?” Katsuki spits. “They were in the woods with a fire. What was I supposed to do? Let ‘em die?” 

“Maybe,” Shoto says, a light smile creeping onto his features. Then, he turns to you. “What’s your name?” 

You give it to him and he nods his head, tilting it at you again. 

“How long are you staying?”

You’re not sure how to answer that question. In fact, no one is, and it feels like more of a test than it does a genuine inquiry. Kiri and Mina exchange a glance and Katsuki tosses a somewhat dirty look towards Shoto. Ochako gives Shoto a knowing glance and Sero and Denki shift uncomfortably on their feet. Then, Momo clears her throat, spurring Izuku to say something. 

“Shoto,” he says. “You’re probably hungry, you should eat something and lay down. Ochako? Could you take a look at his shoulder?” 

“Sure,” the girl says softly, giving a closed mouth smile to Shoto as she takes him by the arm. 

She glances at you as she passes, almost like she’s too embarrassed to look at you fully in the face. You suppose this is what happens when people are forced to think about whether or not they will potentially leave someone else to die. It’s like the trolley cart question and though in this case there is always the possibility of a better outcome, it’s not likely in this world. 

“Just until I’m rested,” you add with a small tilt of your head. “A few days.” 

Shoto looks at you over his shoulder and gives you a small smile. It’s funny, you can see kindness there. His actions aren’t kind, but you can feel that he has kindness in him, though his rudeness stems from something different than Katsuki’s, you think. Like he’s strange in some way. 

“I’ll start on dinner,” Sero says. “Kiri, give me a hand.” 

The group disperses and you head upstairs without speaking to anyone else. A few days to rest and then cut the first people you’ve spoken to in weeks loose. What sort of idiot gives up something like this to avoid a little awkwardness? Not that you necessarily had your mind made up. You wonder briefly if you’ve just sealed your own tomb. 

—

After dinner, you go upstairs to sleep after eating as much as they would offer you. Your stomach has ceased its constant growling and the shakiness that comes with hunger has receded almost entirely into the background. The bed is soft, with a slight dent in it from whoever slept in here before. The thought unsettles you that they’re probably dead now, but you try to push it from your mind as you steel yourself for what comes within the next few days. 

You had volunteered yourself to leave. To what? Save yourself the embarrassment of pleading? Did you even want to plead? Why are you regretting not asking to stay? These people don’t know you, what trust can you have built with them in only a few days? Your skin crawls at the expanse of possibilities in front of you after so many weeks without any. 

You think that if you let yourself walk away, you’ll probably die. You’re out of bullets and don’t know where to find any food except by luck. You can try to catch prey, but prey hides whenever infected are around, and they’re everywhere nowadays. It’s spring, water wouldn’t be a problem, but running water has its clear comforts. Then, there’s the possibility of loss. You’d come to care for these people if you stayed, you know it. 

You furrow your eyebrows and look at the ceiling. There’s really no choice to be made. You’ll let them make it for you, even if you don’t know them. It’s their house and you won’t walk in uninvited or try to take it. You’re not about to become a monster just because the world is full of them now.

The darkness grows and your eyes drift to the dim light wandering in under the crack of the door. Hushed voices whisper in the living room, you can hear them. It’s a heated discussion, lively, but deliberately quiet. It’s been hours since everyone went to bed, yet you get the impression that many people are chiming in. You’re too nosey to leave it be. 

You open the bedroom door silently, turning the cool knob with a wince as it clicks out of place. When you peer into the hallway, every upstairs bedroom door is open with the room empty. The light is coming from down stairs and around the corner, and you can see shadows move as you inch closer to the source. 

You pause at the top of the stairs, knowing that they creak, and crouch by the bannister to listen. You’re out of sight. The only way they’d know you’re listening is if you made a sound, but you won’t. You’re good at being quiet. 

“We don’t even know them,” someone says in a rushed whisper. “We don’t know what they’ve done before.” 

“Everyone’s done things they’re not proud of now, Shoto,” a woman adds. It’s Mina. She’s spoken enough to you that you recognize her voice. 

“I agree with Shoto,” says another woman, her voice higher pitched. She sounds guilty and her voice is tight as she speaks “We have no clue who they are. They could be dangerous.” 

“You mean like me, Ochako?” A man adds. “I could have been dangerous.” 

The group grows quiet for a moment. 

“No,” Momo says. You recognize the cadence of her voice. “Shoto might be right, Denki. It’s been nearly six months since you got here and the world has changed a lot. We don’t- we can’t know for sure.”

“Can we really know anything for sure?” Another man adds, Kiri.

“What about you guys?” Shoto says, presumably to the rest of the group. 

“I don’t know.”

“I’m hesitant, but I don’t know either.”  

“Jesus,” another man with a baritone voice, harsher than the rest. That’s Katsuki, the first voice you’d heard of the group. “You guys make me a little sick.” 

“That’s not fair,” Ochako says. 

“No,” he interrupts. “It is fair. You guys want to… what? Send them back out there to die?” 

“It’s not like that,” Shoto says.  

“It is like that,” he says, raising his voice and then lowering it back to a whisper. “You didn’t see them when they got here, Shoto. They- they didn’t look… shit. The rest of you, you saw them. You really want to send them back out there to fuckin’ waste away? I don’t know about you all, but I won’t do that to a person.” 

There’s a pregnant pause.

“Katsuki’s right,” Izuku says with a bit of conviction, like he’s finally made up his mind. “Sending someone out there alone is a death sentence. How does doing that make us any better than the people we’re trying to protect ourselves from?” 

“What if there are more of them?” Ochako says quietly. “What if they’re not alone?” 

“Trust me,” Katsuki says, “They were alone.” 

“But what if they’re not?” She insists at a whisper, a bit of shame creeping into her voice. “What if people come for us?” 

“See?” Shoto says gently. “There are so many what-ifs.” 

“That works the other way too,” Mina adds. 

You don’t listen to hear the rest of their conversation. They’re going to run themselves in circles debating about you. They’ll go around and around and land on whichever argument ends with the most votes. They’ll convince each other of one thing and it will happen totally out of your control. 

The bedroom door shuts with a low click that makes you wince again. You think about the people who went to bat for you and the people who didn’t. You don’t blame those who opposed. You’d have probably reacted similarly if your old group were still alive and you understand very clearly why they do it. One person’s stupid reaction can be catastrophic and they don’t know enough about you to be certain that you’re not one of those stupid people. It’s how the world went to shit in the first place and though nine months ago you’d have surely condemned someone for making the same decision, you know that fear has warped humanity beyond comprehension. You didn’t get it until you lived it. 

Still, Katsuki’s humanity feels intact somehow, more so than yours at least. His response is something you probably never would have said under the same conditions and you can’t help but feel some sort of fondness bloom in you for him. Call it connection, gratefulness for his willingness to stick his neck out for you, a trauma response. You still feel it. Mina and Kiri had said that Katsuki was a good judge of character and that’s why they were willing to back him. You wonder briefly if maybe Katsuki sees something in you that you don’t recognize in yourself anymore, or maybe something you don’t expect other people to recognize. What is it that he wants so badly to protect? 

Someone stomps down the hallway, heavy boots against the old creaky floors. You hear the steps recede down the hallway, maybe a door or two down, before it shuts quickly. The sound makes you wince and you listen as the house grows quiet and then hums quietly with the sound of others coming upstairs a few moments later. Someone pads to the end of the hall, pushing the door open. 

You hear a woman’s voice, so muffled that you can’t make out what she’s saying. Then, you hear the sound of a man’s affirmation before the bedroom door shuts and the visitor moves back down the hall to a separate bedroom. Information passing through the house. 

Someone is moving around in a room below you and you figure that there are probably bedrooms downstairs as well. From the outside, you’d never guess that the place could house ten people. Inside though, the bedrooms are small. That’s probably why so many can fit. You’d guess that the place used to have multiple generations living in it, or maybe even rented out rooms to people for a few months. It sort of has a boarding house feel to it, like many people have come and gone even before people stopped staying in one place. 

That’s a good thing to call it, the boarding house. It certainly has that sort of feel to it, many of its spaces undeniably communal. 

You turn over in the bed, facing the bedroom door. The lights have gone out completely now and the house is quiet save for the occasional creak or thud from someone preparing to sleep. It’s been a long while since the sounds of living have been so prevalent near you. You’re eased by the sounds of the house settling, a familiar reminder of what living used to be. Your group had been on the road long before you lost them and the comforts of an interior are almost overwhelmingly nostalgic. You’re better rested to notice it now and shutting your eyes, you savor the feeling. 

—

“Need some help?” You say. 

Denki turns around, grease smeared across his nose where he likely wiped it with his dirty hands. He’s holding a wrench in a glove so tattered that it hardly counts as a glove anymore. He looks startled, amber eyes widening before he uses his forearm to brush stray hairs out of his face. The rest of it is pulled up into a messy ponytail, revealing the moist back of his neck. 

“Oh, sure,” he says, a bit surprised. “Do you know how generators work?” 

He crouches back over the machine and you step up behind him. 

The machine is rusted near the bottom and between the exposed winding pipes. Its paint has chipped away, leaving the weather-damaged metal open for you to see. On the side, a fan-like piece spins slowly in circles and the machine whirs and sputters softly as it… generates power, probably. 

“Not quite, but an extra pair of hands is always helpful,” you say softly, passing him a tool he’d been reaching for. “Did it break?” 

“No,” Denki says, “but it’s probably on its last legs. The thing’s almost as old as we are, probably older, so it’s good to tune it up a bunch.” 

You hum your agreement, tilting your head as you stand and watch him work. 

You’re not necessarily comfortable with Denki, but he feels like a safe person for some reason. Maybe it’s because he’s got a sort of ditzy, non-threatening vibe to him. You can almost distinctly picture him tripping over his own feet and something about that makes you feel considerably safer than someone who wouldn’t. That and he was the first person you’ve come across this morning who you don’t think distrusts you too badly. 

“Are you dodging something?” Denki smirks up at you from his crouch. 

“Who on earth would I be dodging?” you snort a bit defensively. 

“Shoto,” he says with a light smile. “He put you in a tight spot the other day.” 

“Yeah, well,” you say, glancing over your shoulder. “It wasn’t anything he didn’t have a right to ask.” 

“Right, but it sure was rude, huh?” 

Denki laughs to himself a little and you’re surprised by how easygoing he is. You subconsciously begin to categorize him with Mina and Kiri. The dichotomy of this group baffles you a bit, but you can certainly see all nine of them as a collective. Tightly knit and well acquainted with the habits of others. 

“Oh!” He exclaims, “I have something you can do for me.” 

You tilt your head. 

“There’s a bucket over there,” he says, pointing absentmindedly to a shitty plastic bucket against the side of the house. “We use the water from the creek as coolant. It’s not factory grade, but it does the trick. You wanna go fill it up and bring it back for when I’m done tuning this thing up?” 

You furrow your eyebrows, not sure where the creek he’s talking about is. 

“The creek is just over there,” he points behind the house to the edge of the treeline. “I know you can’t see it from here, but if you walk in a straight line, you’ll hit it. Katsuki should be down there too, so you can use him as a landmark.” 

When you don’t immediately answer, Denki whines a little. 

“I mean,” he says, “I’d go myself, but-” 

“I’ll do it,” you laugh a little and Denki seems surprised that you do. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” you shrug. “I’d like to pull some weight at least while I’m here. Plus, I offered.” 

Denki mumbles his pleasure and you walk to the bucket without another word and set off in the direction Denki pointed. You’re much more willing to go out to the treeline now that you have a knife back at your side. 

The walk to the trees is longer than it looks, like how sometimes the horizon looks like something you could reach out and climb up onto. The walk stretches with each step you take and you become a little more understanding of why Denki didn’t want to do it himself. But the walk is actually pleasant, the warmth of mid May collecting evenly on your skin as the humidity grows more intense with the sun. 

You wonder what Katsuki would be doing by the creek. Maybe he’s fishing, or crouched over himself sharpening an arsenal of knives that you think he might keep in a roll attached to his belt sometimes. You’re not sure why, but Katsuki sort of has that expression to him. He’s handsome, but the scowl projects something hostile that makes him seem unapproachable. 

As you cross through the middle of the clearing, you could almost imagine that this is a normal day. Humidity collects on your skin, making you sweat a little as you dodge gopher holes and soft spots of dirt. It almost feels like summer camp, if it weren’t for the looming idea that you’re contributing to something you may not be a part of. Denki’s attitude though, has you hoping for a more favorable outcome, if you want to call it that. 

You’re only a few steps into the line of trees when the earth dips into a sand-lined ravine. The trees leave room for the sun to beat down on warmed rocks, making the area seem brighter with their subtle reflection of the light. The noise of the creek drowns out the sound of your footsteps and you shuffle toward where the earth flattens just before the water starts. A little ways to your right, you can see Katsuki sitting on a rock in the sun, his hands dipped into a large bucket. You narrow your eyes as he pulls what looks like a cloth out of the water, rubbing the fabric together before dipping it in the cool water of the creek.

As you approach, you realize what it is that he’s doing. It’s laundry. On the other side of him, you can see a bin of what look like dirty clothes and water-soaked clean ones. Talk about misjudged character. 

“Katsuki,” you say as you approach him, the bucket still empty in your hand.

He squints up at you, shifting his face so that it's in your shadow. 

“You’re still here,” he says plainly, returning to his task. 

“Clearly,” you respond, watching as he runs his fingers over the next piece of clothing in the bucket. 

“Why are you down here? Did Denki pawn the generator water onto you?” He says, like he’s somewhat frustrated. “He does that shit to anyone he can.” 

You shrug your shoulders and continue to stare at him. 

“Are you just gonna stand there?” He huffs out. 

“You’re doing laundry.” 

“Yeah?” he furrows his eyebrows and looks at you. “So?” 

“Nothing,” you say. “I just didn’t expect that.” 

“Yeah well,” he stops for a moment like he’s struggling to find the words. “It needed to be done. Figured I might as well.” 

“How progressive of you,” you joke with a straight face. 

He looks at you out of the corner of his eyes and sighs, not justifying your comment with a response. You find yourself smiling a little bit. 

“If you’re going to linger, sit down and do it,” he says. “You’re creeping me out.” 

You oblige him and sit down on a rock next to him, far enough that you’re not touching, but near enough to hear him if you speak in a low voice. For some reason, you feel a sort of kinship with Katsuki. You’d thought longer than you’d like to admit about his willingness to vouch for you and find that you want to live up to his expectation of your goodness, even if it’s not what you believe yourself to be anymore. Maybe it’s because you’ve slept well the past few nights and feel more like yourself, but there’s a certain casualness to conversing with him that you enjoy. He’s not looking at what you could be, but rather what you’re showing him that you are. His lack of doubt in that is something you find relatively attractive. 

You watch his arms out of the corner of your eye in between gazing at the treeline and the sky. Your field of vision catches on them, his sleeves cut short to expose his biceps, a bit muddied near the elbows where the mud has begun to stick. 

Katsuki doesn’t seem all that bothered by your presence, but now and then you’ll catch the sideways glance he gives you, almost like he’s trying to figure out exactly why you’re lingering. 

“How long have you been with them?” You ask, more as a way to fill the silence. 

Katsuki’s hands pause as he thinks about answering, then, they continue their steady pace. 

“A decent amount of time,” he says. “I met Izuku first, probably in November just before Mina and Kiri. The rest came later.” 

You furrow your eyebrows. 

“No offense,” you start, “but you don’t really seem like the group type.” 

“And you don’t seem like the type who’d be alone,” he retorts, like your statement was stupid. 

You press your lips into a tight line, not really knowing how to respond. 

“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head a little. 

“Were you?” 

“What? Was I sorry?” He furrows his eyebrows at you. 

“No,” you shake your head. “Were you alone? Before Izuku.” 

He goes silent. You’ll take that as a yes, but you regret asking a little. It had just slipped out. If someone were to ask you something like that, you’d probably react the same way. That’s just as well, you don’t really need to know him like that anyway. 

You wonder briefly if anyone does. He seems closed off, but Mina and Kiri spoke about him a few days prior like they knew him well. Well enough at least to allude to a history you’ll likely never be privy to. Then there’s Momo, who whispers little things to him that he answers in kind. Curiosity gets the better of you, if only to tease. 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” you ask and Katsuki’s response is to rest his elbows on his knees and let out a dry laugh. 

He turns his head and looks at you from the side. “And what the fuck are you asking me that for?” 

“Just curious,” you say. “Is it Momo?” 

“Momo?” He makes a sour face at you. “Yeah, right.” 

“She’s pretty,” you say. 

“Sure is,” he responds dryly. “If you’re into the mom type.” 

“What? You’re not into moms?” You grin a little and Katsuki furrows his eyebrows at you. 

“So you do have a personality,” he scoffs a little. 

There’s a pause. You haven’t felt this in a while. The feeling of bonding with someone new, compatibility on the human level that feels nearly instant. 

“I’m kinda serious though,” you say, tilting your head down to catch his eye. “Do you?” 

You’re leaning a little closer to him now.

“You seen any nice restaurants to take a person out to these days?” he questions, clearly a little frustrated with you in the way someone gets when they’re a bit amused. 

“You don’t have to take someone out to a restaurant to fuck them, you know?” You laugh a little. 

Katsuki’s lips part and he swallows like his mouth has gone dry. 

“Yeah, well,” he starts, looking away from you. “I’m a romantic. Sue me.” 

He’s just full of surprises, isn’t he? You find that you’re captivated by this feeling, this humanity, that exists in him. It’s something alive between you both, something left behind from the old world, and you crave it the same way you crave food. 

Katsuki continues scrubbing the clothes, rubbing the fabric together and then dunking it in the bucket before plunging it into the freshwater creek. You’re not sure why you do it, but the next time he looks at you, you kiss him. 

It’s not as if you like him, but it’s something to feel. Some remnant of the butterflies you used to feel on dates and the kiss makes you feel like you could be close to human again. You pull away almost as soon as you put his lips to yours and you can tell that the expression on your face is one of surprise.

Katsuki blinks for a second, looking at you with his brows knitted together. The expression doesn’t leave him as he places a wet hand on the side of your face to kiss you again. It’s an anxious kiss, confused and slow but—like someone riding a bike for the first time in years—it quickly becomes something familiar. Muscle memory that you both let yourselves sink into. 

You can feel his expression as he kisses you, something between confusion and desire, like his own actions are perplexing. You feel the same way, hesitant, but reaching in the dark for the promise of some sort of normalcy. You want to feel like a person again. You haven’t felt it in so long and you push yourself against him as the ache swells in you. 

The two of you continue like this for a moment, Katsuki’s fingers pressing lightly into the skin of your neck. You moan softly as his tongue slips into your mouth, taking a sharp inhale at the sensation of skin on skin. The sound of the creek drowns out the clicking of your mouths, but you can feel the way he hums into your mouth. They’re little sounds, involuntary ones driven by the nervous, desirous feelings inside of you both. 

Then, Katsuki pulls away, swallowing thick as he takes his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment. You appreciate the way they look. They’re swollen, anxious to continue and keep forgetting where you really are. He drops his hand from your face with a sigh and almost seems like he comes back to himself. You do the same, moving back into an upright position. 

“Denki will want that water soon,” he clears his throat and motions to the empty bucket by your feet. 

“Oh,” you say, laughing a little. “Right.” 

You stand, dusting off the back of your pants and dunking the bucket into the water. It sloshes, the liquid hitting the back of the plastic with a satisfying elastic sound. You begin to walk away without another word, heading down the way you came to climb up the gentler part of the slope. 

“Hey,” Katsuki calls softly. “You should stay. We talked it over last night. You can if you want to.” 

The last part, he says facing the wash, his hands moving as if he hadn’t said anything at all. You don’t respond, knowing that the obvious answer is already yes. 

Dread settles in your stomach. It’s an icky, swirling feeling that threatens to make you double over. You climb up the bank, the water in the bucket sloshing as you move through the trees and enter the clearing. The feeling doesn’t dissipate, growing as you leave the cover of the trees. You probably wouldn’t have kissed him if he’d asked you that earlier. 

The boarding house comes into view and you can see Denki sitting beside the generator, conversing with who appears to be Shoto. They turn and Denki waves you down, Shoto turning away and starting around for the front of the house. 

Denki jogs to meet you, taking the bucket from your hand. You flex your fingers as the weight is removed, wincing a little at how stiff they feel. 

“Jeez, what took you so long?” Denki laughs and with your new information, you understand his willingness to be friendly with you a little better. 

“I asked Katsuki for his life story,” you respond dryly, following him back to the generator. 

Denki looks over his shoulder and laughs at you. “Did he tell you?” 

You pause for a moment, watching as Denki unscrews something and pours the water in. 

“Nope,” you say. “Not a thing.”

Click Here to go to the second chapter and find the rest of the series on ao3. The remainder will not be posted on tumlbr, but please feel free to reblog!

[cannellee]

TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE (mythological au! #2) ☆

୨୧ medusa! alpha! tokyo rev x blind! omega! reader (pairing : chifuyu, mikey, mitsuya, baji, izana)

— you meet medusa, whose stare can turn people into statues of rock. but you're actually blind so it doesn't affect you! what are their reactions?

cw : yandere!izana, baji is sweet++ and probably not representative, SA (mitsuya's one, it's not him though), deaths

(they don't have snakes hair, just the curse) + (it's sooo badly written pls don't mind the quality) + (baji's one is criminally short even though it has sm potential sorryy)

my masterlist : ☆

ALPHA! CHIFUYU (love at first sight)

you really simply wanted to pick berries for the pie you planned to cook this afternoon. you would call for your friend to come with you as it's so much more amusing when you're not on your own, but she couldn't today.

still, you went to your usual spot, experienced feet strolling along the path you grew to recognise by heart. you bent down, gathered a few fruits and other sweet things while searching deeper into the forest until you heard the soft sound of water dripping down.

you walked closer, senses alert and nose breathing in the fresh air around you. once the lapping of the gentle waves hugged your ankles, you put away your basket and sat down on a rock you found while navigating through your surroundings.

you let the sun hit your skin and sooth your worries away, calmly closing your eyes.

when chifuyu was alerted that someone had crossed his territory thanks to the mouths of the tiny magical beings he took under his protection, he promptly made his way to you.

chifuyu valued his space, but most and foremost, he hated humans. he hated the way they would cower under his gaze, how they pleaded for their lives and tried to harm him any chance they had.

if his life was to be painful and lonely, he at least wanted some peace. foolish people who wandered into his forest didn't know their fate, or at least took it too lightly.

he first heard soft hums, and the unnatural splash of water you made with your feet immersed in the lake.

chifuyu was prepared to scare you into running away, to growl and yell at how impudent you had been for trespassing.

but upon witnessing your small frame and catching a taste of your sweet scent, chifuyu wasn't so sure anymore of what he had to do. although he was a huge hater of humans, hurting another soul bothered him. you looked harmless and defenceless, definitely not a threat.

you most likely lost your way, chifuyu thought. he expected a hunter or something among the lines, some gross alpha who came here to bring harm to the sacred place that was the forest.

but a peaceful omega like you surely would just go back to were she came from without any trouble. he sighed and turned around, already ready to leave. that was until his foot walked on a branche, making a loud "crack" sound for the both of you to hear.

"who's there ?", chifuyu hurriedly turned his head the other way, suddenly conscious about his eyes and what they could bring to you.

"you're alone and lost. you shouldn't be there", you laugh a bit at the man's answer, not feeling threatened one bit.

"how would you know whether I'm lost or not ?", he frowned when you kept your eyes shut, never sparing him a glance. when he didn't answer, you invited him to join your side.

"I can safely say you wouldn't want me to sit next to you if you knew who I am"

"you would've already hurt me if that was your intention. as you said, I'm alone", chifuyu eyed you up carefully before taking up on your offer, smelling the fresh berries you tempted him with.

"are you always this reckless that you would invite an alpha you don't even know to chat with you ?", he quickly took his place beside you, eyes locked on the floor and hands already digging inside the basket you put between the two of you.

you simply shrug, finally opening your eyes and turning your head his way before he could even react.

"I'm y/n", he looked in your eyes before realising and felt his heart drop upon doing so, fearing you would change into a statue in front of him.

but you didn't. your delicate scent he tried to ignore kept making him light-headed and feeling calm, your smile didn't freeze and only grew wider in a sweet way he found particularly cute.

he took his time scanning your features. a real flesh and blood person's face was looking at him. well not exactly, chifuyu now understood why you had seem so fearless despite aventuring yourself in a forest known for inhabiting a dangerous monster.

he couldn't recall the last time he looked at someone so intimately, without the disgusting feeling he had the first times he realised he no longer belonged with other humans. he didn't remember when he had the opportunity to admire such a pretty face like yours, without immediately changing them into marble.

chifuyu was deeply looking into your eyes and no parts of your body turned hard and grey.

he felt normal again as he introduced himself as well, his eyes never leaving your face, paying attention to the smallest details of your expressions, the way your eyes looked around and reacted to the sound of his voice.

you didn't fear him, you didn't beg him to spare your life and never once did you turn your head away from him, refusing to look at him as if he was the most horrendous thing in the world.

chifuyu didn't want to tear his gaze away from you, not even for a second. for the first time in years, he had someone he genuinely enjoyed being with, with no other emotions inhabiting hin than calmness, anticipation and a merry scent circling around the both of you.

he didn't believe someone he met a few minutes prior could make him have so much hope for the future, and such a growing urge to stay near you, the only one who would never ostracise him.

                                     · · ୨୧ · ·

ALPHA! MIKEY (a sacrifice for the prophecy)

you were beyond scared shitless, tears running down your trembling jaw. you clutched your white gown in the biting cold, slowly walking up the hill with dreadful steps.

you relied on the men escorting you for guidance, eyes covered with a silky material which would have prevented you from seeing anything if it wasn't for your blind eyes.

they told you you were doing this for the greater good, to save another innocent and indefective soul from perishing to the hands of the beast who pressured your tiny village to send him a person each year. what their fate turned out to be was a mystery, but it was evident that it wasn't anything good as none of them ever returned.

the tradition was old from centuries ago, your ancestors carefully choosing a bride to send up the hill you were currently on. they never missed a year, scared of the wrath of the monster.

they did try rebelling some hundred years ago, refusing to send another one of their comrade to their fateful death. after this day, they never once disrespected the wish of the beast as they coldly remembered the terrified looks of the thousands of teenagers who were turned to stone in a single night. frozen by the gaze of the man they now obeyed without a fault.

after this came a prophecy ; upon hearing the sad news, an oracle visited them to deliver the truth from the gods above. they listened attentively as the woman spoke, affirming that they were to perpetrate the ritual if they wanted to keep their people alive, until someone with a similar curse came into this world. only then, will the circle of atrocities come to an end.

today was your turn, no reasons were given to you as you marched, the lack of familiar surroundings was enough to put you into such a distress state you didn't know what to do with yourself.

"we'll leave you here. enter the cave, you'll find your way if you follow the walls." they pushed you forward, promptly leaving you here after threatening you to keep going. you had no choice but to do so, unable to decipher where you even came from, the walk was long and tiring, you knew you wouldn't make it back.

so you followed the path, fingers running on the wet and rocky walls, silence engulfing you totally with only the soft sound of your footsteps around. the floor was soft though, almost inviting and comfortable and you soon understood you arrived to your destination.

your heartbeats accelerated, scared and disoriented when a new scent hit your nose, yours emitting a stressed one.

"an omega ? they usually keep them to themselves" you jumped at the foreign mumbling voice, deep and low. you said nothing and kept your right hand on the wall, for a semblance of control of your surroundings.

"it's not like I care anyways. you can keep the blindfold, I'll guide you to the garden" and with that, a cold hand grasped your shoulder, forcing you away from the wall which kept you steady.

you whimpered at the sudden touch, musky scent invading your privacy. he dragged you gently to an open area, you could tell it was with the way the wind caressed your skin and the shivers it sent you.

"stay here. you'll look perfect with the others. I never had such a pretty one being sent my way", his breathe fanned over your ear, you felt his face dangerously close to yours and you kept wondering how the beast could actually be an alpha and not some faceless furry thing, instead he smelled and seemed just like any villagers you met.

you were scared. you felt small and defenceless. but you remained there, unmoving and ready to undergo any treatment. what would a blind omega like you could even do against the terrible beast you've heard countless of atrocious stories about ?

"it'll be over quickly. just don't move", and with that, you felt his big hands leave your arms and instead reaching behind your head for the neat knot the other betas women of the village had done while preparing you.

your nails dug into your flesh and left red marks, you hoped nothing of it hurt. you knew you would be changed into a statue and you hoped it was as painless as he told you. you trusted his words, despite him being the one inflicting such a deplorable fate.

the blindfold fell off your face and you opened your eyes in a blink, looking up despite not seeing anything.

and he looked at you, right into your eyes, shocked and confused. "you're blind ?", he asked you with a voice void of any confidence he had earlier, it came in a whisper, almost as a vulnerable affirmation more than a true question.

you nodded, unsure of what was happening. "my curse only works if you can look at me in the eyes. but you're blind.", he repeated, as if trying to convince himself it was real, that you were real.

the man drops the blindfold to his feet, looking at your face, your eyes, impressed by how much cuter you looked when he could see your whole face.

"you're... I can't turn you into a statue then"

"what will you do then ? if the ritual doesn't work they'll have to send someone else ? are you going to hurt my people ?", your stressed out scent hit him in the gut ; he didn't want to make you feel distressed.

"don't worry about anything at all. this place is perfect. nobody will be coming here anymore, you can relax"

he was enjoying the pleasure of finding someone resistant to his curse, surely you weren't leaving at all. you were his new companion.

you're right, he hadn't felt a human touch in so long, but that's exactly why he will be extra careful with you. even after centuries he still knows how soft and fragile omegas are, he'll take great care of you. it'll be just the two of you and mikey's undefeated power. you're the only one immune, he'll scare people away like he always did, turn them into statues without even lifting a finger, keeping you in his arms while he only has to lift his gaze to erase the threat.

and he'll also get rid of all of the old statues in the garden! it's your garden now, so there's no need for such frightening decorations...

mikey is so ecstatic, he didn't feel such bliss in a while. he's already anticipating all the things you're both going to do together !

but despite his excitement, mikey still is an alpha born in such old times, so he's old-fashioned : he loves you, provides for you and protects you, and as such, he doesn't tolerate outbursts from you. he likes respect. he's an alpha, so you need to listen to him. he's doing that for the both of you! just keep making happy and he'll keep you away from those terrible people you call your family, who deliberately sent you here, even while knowing what would become of you...

but regardless, he's just so happy to be cured from his usual loneliness that he unknowingly becomes more and more lenient, accepting anything from his new omega. you're such a joy to his normally gloomy and silent day. keep talking to him, keep asking him to show you around, he loves it.

                                    · · ୨୧ · ·

ALPHA! MITSUYA (a strange saviour)

you cursed yourself under your breath for being such a dumb person while gripping tighter a wicker basket filled to the brim with freshly picked flowers.

they only bloomed at night during the full moon and they just smelled so good you couldn't help yourself from going out once a month to snatch them from the tricky path where they grew.

it was risky and dangerous, not only because you were aventuring yourself in such a desolated area, but also because your sweet aroma seemed to get even softer the longer you walked to your house.

you hurried along, feet stumbling through the hard floor and occasional rocks all because of your precipitation. distinct voices and irregular steps were following you close behind, getting closer with each times you missed a step while scurrying down the stairs and met with a wall you didn't remember was there.

"y/n ! hurry and get your ass back there, you know I don't like chasing a blind omega around, just come here and stop making things harder for the both of us !", you shivered from the strong authoritative voice, calling you back in an annoyed growled while his friends snickered by his sides, enjoying way too much this little tantrum you were pulling.

your tears came running down your face, feeling so helpless with how little you knew your way and how merciless you knew your fiancé would be once he got his hands on you.

you never agreed to such proposal, but you came from a poor family and they were just too desperate to marry off their defective daughter. you were handed off to a same-age alpha, a spoiled idiot who liked to torment you even though you weren't still officially his wife.

if you knew you would've met him during your outing, you would've kept your basket neatly away in a closet and sat down near the fireplace.

when he caught you walking all alone at night, the alcohol in his brain and lack of respect for your dignity led him to a pervet shout your way.

he said he simply wanted to introduce you to his friends but with the way they were all looking at you was enough to tell you otherwise. so you ran, not sure where you were heading to.

in a second, you stopped abruptly in your tracks, a forceful hand grasping your arm and pushing you to the wall before you could even react. the force was such you felt light-headed, and the horny scents of the little pack of alphas made you nearly gag.

you pleaded and cried for him not to touch you, both being the only thing you could do. "oh come on, you're making me look like the bad guy here. isn't it my right to touch you as your fiancé?"

you cried harder, shaking your head and asking him to let you go. you felt such distress it was hard to control yourself. you were disoriented and lost, absolutely confused as to who exactly was before you excepted for your fiancé. would anyone save you if you screamed ? you doubted it, considering how his family was respected and felt sick in your head to know nobody would take the side of an omega like you.

you were wriggling again the grip he had on your neck when you felt it. cold and hard on your skin, rough to the touch and barely alive anymore. silence fell upon you before you could breathe again and a loud shattering noise was heard. tiny pieces of rocks hit your feet and your eyebrows furrowed when you heard the panicked pleads of the once so arrogant alphas.

you stayed put, unaware of the crime scene before you and the lavender-haired man who had just emerged from the next street upon catching your screams and sour scent.

you tried to catch your breathe, a serie of "please no!" escaping their throats, but you never relaxed, even when the deafening silence engulfed you once again after the similar shattering sounds were heard.

your eyes were wide open, frantically searching around in the obscurity. you gathered your hands to your chest in hope to make you appear smaller than you were, to appease whoever was pissed off.

"I'm sorry they did that to you", you jumped at the calm tone of his voice. you instinctively turned your head towards him, your pretty eyes catching his unknowingly.

he felt himself tense under your stare because of how unusual it was for him to be face to face with anyone.

"go home for tonight and don't wander alone like that again", there was some distance between the both of you, his voice was far away and let you relax a little at his warm and gentle intonation.

despite his initial excitement, his eyes softened when you seemed to trust him, taking slow and careful steps toward him, his voice guiding you.

he watched as you stumble on one of the statues and mitsuya approached you with cautious steps, alerting you that he was coming closer. "tell me if you want me to leave you"

you reassured him with a soar and soft voice, sounding oh so fragile. he offered you his hand in a silent reassurance and with a gentleness you didn't expect. you took it hesitantly and he guided you out of the dark alley you found yourself in.

"are you alright now ?", he asked after a while. none of you seemed to want to let go of each other's hand. he felt strangely scared to leave you alone and the foreign sense of security he gave you forced the two of you together.

"yes, thanks to you"

mitsuya was a sweet man despite the initial fear everyone seemed to arbour every time they met him. he took his sweet time getting to know you, and you didn't expect to have him by your door the next day, your basket of flowers put back together in one piece after being torn apart yesterday night.

you kept having little dates together, secretly hiding away in the deep forest mitsuya knew by heart. he made sure to take you to the best spots, while reassuring you with soft hums and a comforting scent every chance he got.

the connexion he felt with you was refreshing and sparked in him a protective instinct he didn't think he had in him.

he wanted to make sure you felt safe and would be willing to go on another date with him afterwards so he behaved correctly while assuring you nobody would be mean to you if you remained by his side.

                                    · · ୨୧ · ·

ALPHA! KAZUTORA (a fateful kidnapping)

bloody screams and desperate attempts at escaping drove each one of you mad. you ran without knowing where, only trying to chase away the yelling of your people.

you tripped against the statues littered across the floor, scratching your knees and hurting your hands in the process. you tried not to think of your dead loved ones, only focusing on your survival.

he was mad, completely crazy and thirsty for revenge.

your people had failed to give him a satisfying enough offering like you always did and here were the consequences.

a real massacre.

you found your way to a deserted house and pushed the door open, you scurried under the small space of the stairs, not having enough strength to drag yourself anywhere farther.

you heard him not long after, slow steps as if teasing you. you both knew you weren't winning and it amused him.

"where are you hiding little one ? if only you could smell yourself, only a fool would walk pass such a sweet scent"

you tried to muffle your pitiful cries, eyes shutting themselves with force. you couldn't calm your breathing down when he came closer, knowing exactly where you went but wanting to see you give yourself to him willingly.

"so cute", he whispered that more to himself than you, a smirk stretching his lips.

he bent down right next to you, inhaling deeply your scent. he took a lock of your hair in his hands, a satisfied look in his eyes.

"oh come on omega, just open your pretty eyes for me to see. listen to me while I'm being nice"

when you refused he persisted, keen on to see you give in. "you're the only one left omega, better make this quick for yourself don't you think?", your breath was cut short at the revelation, growing more and more distressed at your predicament.

"calm down, just breathe for me okay. don't want you fainting on me, it would be no fun right?"

a strange fondness made his way inside kazutora's heart while he helped you reach a calmer state. your head was still kept low, and tears kept running. but you managed to slow down your heartbeats thanks to him spreading calming pheromones all around you, your instincts reacting to them without your consent.

"that's right, just like that. you're doing so well"

and slowly but surely, everything felt calm again. you reached for his hands now gently cradling your face and forced them away from you.

you felt desperate, his proximity kept your thoughts going as just how fucked up your situation was, how inescapable it was. so you took advantage of your more relaxed state to pry your eyes open, guiding them up to meet his.

he watched you silently, almost regretfully but did nothing to stop you. he was eager to see your whole face and in the mere second when you lifted your face, he swore your statue would be the only one he took with him. he wouldn't let you rot away with the others. such a scared and fragile little thing...

and yet, he fell silent as he took in your soft features.

"your eyes...", he trailed off, shocked.

you were just as confused. why wasn't he doing anything? why was it taking so long? he mirrored your confusion, was your blindness enough to stop his curse from working on you?

a wave of relief washed over him and for the first time in years, kazutora felt at peace.

he didn't have to carry with him your dead body, he could simply ask you to follow him, or even better! he was going to court you, just like he dreamed of doing. he could look at you in all the angles and you wouldn't be harmed !

how sweet life was to finally smile at him and gift him a precious omega.

                                    · · ୨୧ · ·

ALPHA! BAJI (a gift from aphrodite)

desperately lonely. that's how baji felt for hundred of years now, since he was struck with his curse.

he ostracised himself from society, scared of bringing harm to anyone who would do just as much as look at him. he was feared and hated, despite never wishing anything bad on anyone.

one night, he found himself on the temple of aphrodite, the goddess of love, and begged all he could to grant him his only wish. the only desire he ever had.

upon hearing his cries, the goddess sent her child, cupidon, and charged him with a mission to bring her faithful devotee the perfect match for him.

you didn't know how you found yourself here, laying down on that same altar baji was praying on just about a few minutes ago.

all your senses were alert, trying to catch any familiar scent that would indicate where you were.

but you didn't smell anything, except for the cold marble floor and the strong and intimidating scent of what could be nothing else, if not an alpha.

"w-where am I? and who are you?" your voice bounced on the walls of the immense temple, and it sounded just like honey to baji's ears.

he couldn't believe his own eyes. had his prayers finally been answered? after a hundred years all but begging for the deity to let him find a precious omega who would come to love him and who wouldn't be harmed by his deadly curse.

and there you were! from the way your doe-eyes were looking around you, never settling on anything, he knew he had nothing to be scared about.

you won't crumble under his gaze, and baji could keep and love you to himself, just like he always dreamt.

he carefully went up to you, sweet words and kind purrs. and as if you were destined, you felt nothing but comfort emitting from the stranger, trusting him fully after just a few minutes.

"hey there, that's it I'm right here. you can stay up there while I come to help you down, okay?"

baji's instincts were screaming, blissfully looking at his adorable omega. he didn't know how to thank aphrodite, but one thing was for sure, he was going to cherish you to show just how grateful he was.

ALPHA! IZANA (sick love)

izana couldn't believe it and he'll keep spending his whole life trying to ignore the deadly weapon he has in his eyes.

it wasn't always like that, it was only the result of a deity's punishment after he had accidentally profaned his temple.

and the day he witnessed the first ever person falling to his death for simply looking at him was a nightmare burned inside his memory.

he hated the curse and hated how isolated he became afterwards, how his village, his friends and even his family chased him from his hometown, refusing to even take one last look at him.

but luckily he had you. his sweet childhood friend who stayed with him through thick and thin while never feeding the thought of abandoning him like all the others.

you were blind and resistant to his curse, so your relationship never changed. at first.

the usually kind alpha you knew quickly turned bitter and tried to drive away anybody trying to come to you, just like they all avoided him.

if they thought his curse was going to make it easier for them to court you, they were dead wrong.

izana developed a growing obsession for you and a sick jealousy which ruled your entire life now. you thought it would pass once he recognised your loyalty and eventually came to terms with his own cursed eyes. but he never did and only worsened with the time, growling at you to never leave him, that you would lose your way without his guidance, that people would try to steal you because of how naive and innocent you were. he wanted to force this codependency on you and break you down to make it sure you would always need him.

none of it made sense and you tried to reason him. even when people started to yell at him to get away from here, only you stood by his side, knowing that the charming boy you once knew wasn't all gone.

but this situation only made it easier for him to keep you for himself, your people not caring if you left alongside him as long as he left the village immediately.

he comforted himself at seeing your similar treatment and grew overly possessive, only allowing you to breathe and stay pretty next to him, occasionally patching up his wounds if he had to fight someone for your safety.

"y/n, you know how much I love you right ? those people only wish the worst for us, that's why I had to do that, you understand? I just need you, my sweet omega, you'll stay with me, right?"

and you don't have a choice but to mutter a kind "of course!" with a fake enthusiasm, knowing full well that even though he can't force you to stay put by turning you into stone, he can and will physically restrain you enough that you'll never even foster the idea of running away and leave him alone.

you're the only flawless being he ever met, izana wishes for things to stay that way. you offer him stability and if you were to be gone, he'd completely lose it.

[dumbseee]

she’s everything and he’s just ken.

f1 au: in which, well basically the title. carlos and y/n have been dating for a few months, and carlos can’t stop showing off his beautiful girlfriend to the world.

carlos sainz jr x singer!reader.

fc: becky g.

liked by y/n, landonorris, danielricciardo and 2 008 008 others.

carlossainz55: i love seeing you on stage princesa 💙

_

y/n: seeing you in the audience is what gives me strength mi amor

liked by carlossainz55.

danielricciardo: i literally thought that was a y/n fan page

fan1: the fact that he goes to all her concerts even if he’s busy

fan2: i saw him there he was so sweet! and he was wearing blue to match with her :(

fan3: y/n and carlos are so barbie and ken coded

fan4: he took a whole camera with him to take pictures of her omgg

fan5: carlos is literally a book boyfriend, he can’t be real

landonorris: omg are you joining the jpg gang?

alex_albon: @.landonorris please he’s going to call it y/n.jpg

fan6: but why was he in the audience and not backstage?

carlossainz55: @.fan6 to have a better view ;)

liked by y/n, charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 1 800 087 others.

carlossainz55: congratulations princesa on your first ever american latin music award! (in my opinion you deserved to win all the categories) your voice is my favorite medicine.

_

y/n: omg i love you so much stop

landonorris: you guys are insufferable

carlossainz55: @.landonorris i’m blocking you.

fan1: i want a carlos in my life

fan2: « your voice is my favorite medicine » what if i was sewcidal?

fan3: brb im going to throw myself out of the window

fan4: pls he also went with her at the ceremony 😭

fan5: just get married already

liked by y/n, alex_albon, charles_leclerc and 1 789 097 others.

carlossainz55: i fall in love with you a little bit more everyday.

_

y/n: girls i’m officially head over heels for this man

landonorris: guys i’ve done the maths and out of 3 posts carlos make every week, 2 out of 3 are about y/n

y/n: @.landonorris i can’t believe you can count omg

danielricciardo: this is officially a y/n fanpage

fan1: y/n deserve that level of love tho her last relationship was a disaster so i’m so happy to see her being treated like the princess she is

carlossainz55: @.fan1 queen* but period

fan2: y/n please where did you find him i need a bf like him

liked by carlossainz55, francisca.cgomes, lilymhe and 3 789 821 others.

y/n: i know that we joke a lot about how obsessed this lil guy is, but i thought that it was time for a little carlos appreciation post. first of all, thank you for loving me, we met when i was in a very dark place but you still picked me up from the ground and helped me heal. i’ll always be grateful for that. i love all your little intentions like the flowers you send me every 5th of the month because we met on that date. or when you cook my favorite meal when i’m not in the mood. you’re my bestfriend, my guardian angel, my anchor, my inspiration, my everything. thank you for being you carlos and thank you for loving me the way you do ❤️

_

carlossainz55: you deserve the world and more y/n, the way i’m treating you is the way someone as amazing as you should be treated. i love you more princesa <3

danielricciardo: get a ROOM

landonorris: there is kids on this app!

y/n: @.landonorris you’re past your bedtime lando go to bed.

fan1: i want what they have :(

fan2: these two never fail to make me feel depressed about being single

fan3: i don’t even want a boyfriend but it must be nice to be loved like that

fan4: romeo and juliet who? i only know carlos and y/n

fan5: their relationship is so pure seriously they’re so precious

fan6: they better get married and have kids because if a couple like that ever breakup it’s over for us

[ashtxrie]

oh no... am i falling in love? (sunoo)

PAIR. high school!sunoo x gn!reader GENRE. fake dating au, high school au, best friends to lovers, fluff WORD COUNT. 2.2k WARNINGS. none! NOTES. first post kinda nervous!! <//3 i need a sunoo irl he is truly the greenest of green flags

you and sunoo are those friends

you’ve got that type of friendship where something clicked and suddenly you were both attached at the hip for years

because apparently having the same clear muji pencil case with the holy grail 0.5 black muji pen at the beginning of middle school meant best friends ride or die in seventh-grade culture

like, someone who prioritized aesthetics in notetaking as much as you did? even in the confines of this crusty campus? crazy.

but anyway, with you being absolutely intent on making friends, sunoo couldn’t get rid of you if he tried but pls he could never survive without you anyway... who else would he trust enough to exchange his top-tier notes with?

and since then you’ve both been best friends for life! well, ever since the +6 with the introduction of sunoo's other friends [read: the rest of enhypen...]

and at first you were super happy because new friends!

but then they kind of stopped hanging out with you in the middle of sophomore year or so and went off into their own little world

and you were a little sad

ok maybe a lot sad. devastated, even.

but that was okay because that meant you were able to meet new friends and expand your horizons! you even got the chance to focus on yourself and join some new clubs, too!

who even is sunoo anymore lmao you don’t know him

but anyway

it was junior year and you were so tired of your friends bugging you to get a s/o

“[name], why don’t you date someone?”

“you’d really hit it off with so and so, don’t you think?”

“just put yourself out there”

ರ_ರ

ayo... excuse me

so one day you just can’t take it anymore

and maybe you should’ve thought this through but... nope

you don’t pause to think things through

because life is for living in the moment hell yes yolo gang

“umm guys i’m already dating someone!”

needless to say your friends go INSANE

like who tf is [name] gatekeeping from us they’re so fake /j

so like any sane and mentally adept person, you say the first name that comes to mind

“hahaha … sunoo!”

your friends stare at you. flabbergasted, shocked, stunned beyond words.

blink blink

“but … weren’t you guys just friends”

“NO”

you’re panicking but

trust

“we’re in LOVE”

ur friends are really like ok whatever, but go off

and that is how you find yourself dragging yourself over to sunoo's fifth period and placing your hands on sunoo's shoulders

“promise me you won’t freak out”

and ofc sunoo is already freaking out

bc why are you standing in front of the ap lang classroom with this crazily determined face and forcing him to listen to you

and this is how you get into this situation

with sunoo having a literal double take and you doing your best "pls help me out i beg of you" impression

“i can’t DATE you”

what

you give sunoo your best professional face even though inside you’re ???

bc um is it that bad to date you??

you are confused???

you’ve saved sunoo thousands of times in his high school career in both academics and social standing he can afford to pretend to date you ONCE

“WHY NOT”

“BECAUSE”

...

is he being fr rn

obviously you’re not getting anywhere and you turn around to walk away, kind of annoyed

“fine then, i’ll just find someone else to date me.” shrug (dies inside).

as soon as you say that, it’s like you’ve flipped a switch and suddenly sunoo is very concerned and almost a little upset

and when you don’t notice him contemplating something, he runs in front of you and nearly knocks you over

“second thoughts?”

sunoo scowls

although it looks more like a lil pout pushing at his lips and he crosses his arms

lmao who is this and what’s happened to sunoo

you shrug and start to leave for real until sunoo reaches out to tug at your arm

“NO, NO WAIT … I’LL DO IT”

you whirl around immediately and you are needless to say, very relieved!

｡◕‿◕｡

“perfect!”

but apparently sunoo hasn’t recovered from his fall from before

bc he can’t stop rubbing his hand against his neck and his face is all blotchy and pink

kinda cute, but in a best friends way.  like wowie my best friend looks kinda adorable look at that boy go

but ofc sunoo has to ruin the special moment because he offhandedly says, “shouldn’t we have rules or something?”

rules???

RULES???

this is fake dating sunoo wdyfm rules? that's so silly goofy

“huh?”

“like … things not to do? maybe one big rule is not ruining our friendship???”

ʘ‿ʘ

oh

he kinda smart for that

“ok easy then, just don’t fall in love with me”

apparently this is the WRONG thing to say?

sunoo is RED like boy is not pink anymore his cheeks are burning red

“you can’t just say that?”

????

you are confused bc what does that even mean

“why not?”

“that’s like ...  y-you you can’t just say that.”

you are, if possible, even more confused?

“okay and?”

sunoo blinks

pls this boy has the audacity to just shrug

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN

u are dumb af sunoo bout to throw hands here

but he won’t bc he loves u <3

so fifteen minutes later you guys decide to make three big rules

sunoo had a whole list of like twenty but you narrowed it down to these:

1. don’t ruin ur friendship

2. no kissing

3. and ur paying for three rounds of mint choco ice cream after this is over

honestly you think this is kinda rude considering sunoo is richer than ur entire life but whatever, at least he’s not leaving you out to the wolves

so when it’s finally time to put this fake dating thing to the test, you tug sunoo over to your side of the table during lunch and make sure to swing his hand

which actually feels kind of nice??

like you’ve never actually thought about this before

but sunoo is comforting

his hand fits right in yours, and he’s so warm

and i mean haha it’s not like this is a new thing, you two hold hands all the time!! but adjkaldjkfl not in a dating way

ur friends are shocked. bamboozled.

like they never thought you’d actually show up with a DATE

and bc they’re all RUDE they grill sunoo

but sunoo is best boy

best bf

and answers all their questions like a pro

that's my man

i mean what???

ur so proud

you let ur head rest against sunoo's shoulder and BITCH

sunoo presses a kiss to ur forehead

YO........................ insane.

why are u so happy? what is this??

it’s just so gentle and soft and you feel your heart getting all mushy and warm

your friends all give a big collective aww because one, they’re annoying af and yes y’all are cute cute and this is cute

but ur going through some existential crisis

and later when you’re walking with sunoo to all your classes, you can’t stop thinking that hey, this fakedating thing isn’t that bad

but whatever it’s just cause u miss spending time with sunoo!

yes, that’s it!

you’re just sad that sunoo always hangs out with his new group and you don’t get to see him as much

so this is nice!

you’re just going through some bff nostalgia rn... it's just gonna take some time for [name].exe to start working again

anyway now bc of this fakedating thing, you and sunoo just spend so much time together

like you guys have always been best friends, but this feels different

sunoo will run over to you when he sees you and wrap his arms around your waist

the first time he did it, he had the cuteness to go “is this okay? are you okay? is this too much?"

and YOUR HEART WENT !!!!!

you might’ve blushed

okay you did

but you convince yourself it’s just because ur touch starved and bitchless

c’mon... get it together

but whenever you call sunoo and wave at him, his face just LIGHTS up

and you’re pretty sure yours does too

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *ヽ(◕ヮ◕ヽ)

needless to say, you kinda don’t want this all to end

because somewhere in the middle of all this, your head has gone from calling sunoo your fake boyfriend to your real boyfriend

and you don’t really want to go back to just being friends if you’re honest

wait hold up

uh oh

UH OH CODE RED

INTERPOL INTERPOL.....

did you just admit you liked sunoo?? in a FOR REALS way?

UMMMMM

so like the only way you know how to deal with things, you avoid it!

you start to act really distant

and now whenever sunoo wraps his arms around you, you stiffen up

and sunoo like the angel he is pulls away so quickly bc ?? is his best friend upset? uncomfortable?

did HE make his best friend for life, his 4lifer, uncomfortable? omg this isn’t ok what is happening

everyone can tell something is up

ofc they can, what with you going to the extent of running away whenever you see sunoo and sunoo reacting like the entire light got blown out his life

and bffr sunoo may be innocent but he ISN'T dumb

he knows your schedule he KNOWS you’re ignoring him

and baby is upset

because lately you’ve been starting to feel a lot more to him

and now you’re just gone??

that’s not okay and sunoo isn’t just gonna sit around and be sad

if there’s something he can do he’s gonna do all he can to try to fix it!

he corners you one day and holds up an angry piece of paper

“excuse me but you broke rule number one which is, in case you forgot, don’t RUIN OUR FRIENDSHIP”

“oh haha uh sunoo! hi uhh i gotta go 👉👉 ”

sunoo's face falls

and that was it

you just wanna hold his cheeks and tell him things are fine and that you love him

wait WHAT

but sunoo is still staring at you with that wounded look

like you’ve just ripped up his heart and torn it to shreds

bc that’s kinda what you’re doing

omg what’ve you done

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE

“sunoo…”

his eyes lock onto yours so fast that you’re afraid he’s got whiplash

your mouth goes dry, and for a few moments it’s hard to talk

but you finally manage to tell him that “i don’t think we should fake date anymore.”

sunoo's face breaks

his eyes go wide, and it looks like he wants to stagger. and he almost does, just a little bit

“is it something i did?”

WHAT

this boy

kim sunoo is really gonna be the death of you

you’re shaking your head back and forth so fast because NO of course not of course this isn’t his fault

sunoo is Not Okay, and he looks so, so concerned for you. “because i swear i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. if i screwed up just tell me and i can fix it, [name], please”

you shake ur head, already starting to panic.  “of course not.  it’s not YOU sunoo. i just can’t fake date you because--”

you clamp your hands over your mouth

“because?” sunoo prompts, his voice careful

you just shake your head, already starting to turn and run back to somewhere, anywhere because this is stupid and you’re scared

terrified, actually

but sunoo just takes your hand and tugs you backward a bit, almost like a scene from a movie

you do that little twirl back and are face to face with the one and only

“do you … do you like me?” sunoo asks

that’s it

it’s out

you’re ready for your entire friendship with sunoo to come crashing down

“do you?” he repeats softly

you try to pull away but sunoo isn’t having it

he’s still holding onto your hand, gently, of course, and his eyes are boring into yours

you’re too scared to look because you’re afraid of what you’ll find

but when you can’t take it anymore and finally tilt your head up you realize something important

because his eyes aren’t full of disgust

in fact, that’s further from the truth

kim sunoo is staring at you with the biggest heart eyes you’ve ever seen and you’re confused as to how you’ve never seen this sooner

it’s almost like you’re his whole world, and now you can’t fucking breathe

is this real? chat is this fr rn??

your heart’s pounding in your chest so fast and there’s something bursting at your lungs

you nod faintly.  “yes. i like you”

the huge grin that spreads across sunoo's face is everything

he rushes forward to pull you into a gigantic hug, even lifting you up a little as he spins you around and lets out a little happy noise

“i’ve liked you forever, [name], i can’t believe this is real”

what

so u could’ve been dating sunoo before??

“you dork why didn’t you tell me?”

“because you didn’t like me like that!”

BITCH WHAT

“well maybe i was confused” you pipe back

sunoo just laughs, burying his head in your shoulder.  “i’m so happy right now.”

and honestly ?

so are you !!

[cheolaholic]

ring of love; csc (05)

summary; agreeing to join vernon spectate an underground boxing match wasn't how you'd expect to spend your friday night. you also didn't expect to see seungcheol, someone you've lost contact with for years, become a part of the ring.

modern! au • boxer! au • hhu focused • multiple kinds of tropes • fluff, angst, smut

a/n;; omg, i'm alive????? jkjk, work's been piling up lately and i'm honestly drained by the time I get back home so I couldn't do much writing or even qc the draft before yoinking them into a tumblr draft 💀 but anyways, hope yall enjoy this chapter !! uri boo makes a small little cameo in this chapter :D a part of the angst in this fic has also arrived, pls be prepared (it’s not that heavy tho).

You were 15 when you experienced your first ‘heartbreak’. Though, you call it a ‘heartbreak’ solely because it was a “for the lack of a better word” situation. A week before summer break, your parents had announced that the three of you would be flying off to Jeju to visit your grandparents.

You adore your grandparents, and they adore you just as much. Before you started middle school, you remember constantly flying off to Jeju, or even taking the ferry, to visit them every holiday and school break possible. Even during the initial stage of your move to the small town, your parents had sent you off to your grandparents as they sorted out the heavier parts.

Your grandparents had brought you to the beach, taught you how to make kimchi and even brought you to one of the fireworks shows during your stay. But, when you started middle school and were bombarded by a shit ton of schoolwork, you weren’t able to visit them as often.

So, you were ecstatic when your parents announced the Jeju trip. Both Aki and Seungcheol could see the excitement and happiness in your eyes as you told them about your plans.

Aki asking you questions about Jeju while Seungcheol listens to both of you with a small smile on his face. “how long will you be there, pup?” he asks, cheek leaning against the palm of his hand.

“Uhm… I think maybe for two weeks? I’m not really sure… Dad did ask mom if she wanted me to tag along with them to London afterwards…”

“Oh? What are they gonna be doing in London?”

“They have a business meeting that lasts at least two days. But, they decided to stay back a week for a mini vacation.”

“Do you want to go?” Aki asks as she pops a piece of strawberry into her mouth, stealing a glance at Seungcheol, noticing the way his shoulders are slumped at the mention of you thinking of joining your parents overseas.

Dude looks like a puppy not wanting its owner to leave it alone… she thought to herself, finding the scene in front of her amusing.

“Well, whether or not you want to join your parents, I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself regardless!” she spoke.

“Take good care of yourself, pup,” Seungcheol added as he reached out a hand and patted your head, sending a faint blush spreading across your cheeks and a teasing smile on Aki’s lips, “If you ever need anything, call me, okay?”

“Or me!”

The older male rolled his eyes at Aki’s words, smiling when you nod your head.

“Seungkwannie!” you squealed out in happiness as you ran up to your cousin who was standing out at the gates of your grandparent's house, engulfing him in a big hug. “I can’t believe you’re here! Mom and Dad said that you’d be in Biyangdo!”

“And miss out on the chance to spend time with my favourite cousin? Never!” Seungkwan proclaimed as he pecked your cheek. “I haven’t seen you in years, ___! There’s no way I’d pass off the opportunity to spend time with you while you’re here!”

Seungkwan is your cousin from your mom’s side of the family. Before the age of 5, you don’t remember much about meeting Seungkwan other than the stories both your parents would tell you over family dinners. For example, when you asked them about the scar Seungkwan had on his chest, his dad said you were the one that left it on him. They proceeded to tell the story of how you had scratched Seungkwan because he had refused to let you watch Pocoyo on tv when both of you were just 3.

Or when his mom would ask you if you remembered Seungkwan hiding in the closet to scare you, but you ended up crying because you had thought he went home. So, instead of scaring you, he came out of the closet and both your parents found the two of you cuddled up on the floor the next morning

After Seungkwan helped you and your parents move the luggage into your grandparent’s home, Both of you sat on the porch, drinking the lemonade your grandmother had prepared. “How’re you, aunt and uncle doing?” he asks, “I heard from Uncle Lee that you’re starting high school soon! probably in a few months, right?”

“Things have been the same, besides the whole mom and dad having to go overseas occasionally and I had to stay with either Aki or Seungcheol.”

“Speaking of Seungcheol, how’s that little crush of yours on him going?” Seungkwan asked with a teasing smile, nudging your sides, “Ever thought of telling him before he graduates? There’s a chance he might head off to the big cities or even abroad for college.”

You were silent for a moment.

You have thought about telling Seungcheol your feelings, but you never thought about the timing. Now that his graduation is nearing, you still haven’t told him. As you were still stuck in your thoughts, Seungkwan places a hand on your shoulder, “Well, whatever happens, I wish you happiness.“

“You say that as if I’m leaving you forever.”

“Hey, let me be sentimental!”

Just as you rolled your eyes, you felt your phone vibrate - you had gotten a text from Aki.

aki: did you make it to Jeju safe? ___ bestie <3: yeap! ___ bestie <3: i’m with my cousin rn ___ bestie <3: [sent an attachment] aki: ooh, he’s cute ___ bestie <3: want me to introduce you? aki: gurl aki: don’t try to matchmake me when you’re struggling to tell Seungcheol about how you feel aki: and besides aki: your cousin is cute, but he’s not my type ___ bestie <3: wow ___ bestie <3: you really just did me dirty aki: i’m just saying ___ aki: better tell him before you lose the chance aki: besides your romantic struggles aki: have fun and take lots of pictures! aki: can’t wait to see them when you get back <3 ___ bestie <3: i will!

“Are you gonna stay here with grandma and grandpa while Aunt and Uncle Lee fly out to London?” Seungkwan asks as you set down your phone, refilling his glass of lemonade. You shrugged, still debating on whether or not you wanted to join your parents. “I’m honestly stuck in between… On one hand, I want to see what other countries are like. On the other, I haven’t seen grandma and grandpa in years…”

Your mother who was on her way to give you both a plate of strawberries overheard the conversation and tried her best to help you with your indecisiveness. “___, sweetie,” she began as she set the plate on the wooden porch floor, “you can always travel in the future when you’re all grown up.”

“That sounds like you just want her to stay here in Jeju so you and uncle can enjoy yourselves without her presence,” Seungkwan teased, earning a forehead flick from your mother.

“Well, she’ll be in your care too, Seungkwan. I hope I won’t return to a sassy, diva daughter after leaving her here with you.”

Seungkwan gasps dramatically, placing a hand over his chest at your mother’s statement. “Aunt Lee, I’m hurt and offended.”

“You’re just further proving my point, Seungkwan.”

“Hey, the sass could end up helping her in the future!”

cheollie: hey, pup cheollie: mom said you and your parents made it to Jeju safely cheollie: how are you feeling? cheollie: did you get motion sickness during the flight? cheollie: did you eat dinner yet? sweet pup: ehh, the motion sickness wasn’t that bad sweet pup: grandma made lemonade :D sweet pup: and yes, i ate dinner! sweet pup: grandpa grilled some mackerel sweet pup: [sent an attachment] sweet pup: and look at how fat the strawberries are :0 sweet pup: [sent an attachment] cheollie: wow cheollie: those look good cheollie: hey, do you think it’s alright if we have a call? sweet pup: like, right now? cheollie: yea sweet pup: oh sweet pup: um, let me head out to the porch cheollie: take your time, pup

As you quietly exited the room you were staying in and out onto the porch, you picked up Seungcheol’s incoming call, feeling the butterflies in your stomach intensify when you heard his deep, “Hey, pup.”

“Hi, Cheollie! Have you had your dinner?” you asked, getting a small hum as a response. “Dad got a deal with a big client so he bought steak for us. Mom also cooked calamari.”

“Wow, it must’ve tasted amazing…”

“Yeah, it was. But, tell me about your dinner, ___. I’m sure you had more than just grilled mackerel.” Seungcheol chuckled, a blush spreading across your cheeks as you mentally cussed at how the older male still has an effect on you despite being 2 hours away and talking to you through a phone.

“Well… Mom made raw crabs and seafood soup!”

“Looks like my little puppy is eating well... That’s good.”

“Is there another reason you wanted to call, Cheollie?”

There was a moment of silence on the other end, making you slightly anxious. You hear a faint rustling, thinking he must be lying on his bed as he’s talking to you. A sigh was heard before Seungcheol told you his motive for calling you - and to say it had you on the floor was an understatement.

No, this man had you envisioning a future with him.

“I miss you.”

When you didn't respond, Seungcheol got worried, calling out your name on the other end while you remained stunned at his confession.

“U-uhm, yeah?”

“Did that make you uncomfortable, pup?”

“No, no, it just… It just caught me by surprise…”

You hear Seungcheol chuckle, and more rustling can be heard before he speaks again. “Well, I’m used to having you around me, twenty-four seven, ___. It feels weird when you’re not.”

“I’ll be back in two weeks, Cheollie. You’re being dramatic!”

Maybe he was, the older male thought to himself. But, he pushes that thought to the back of his head as he finally tells you the real reason he’s calling you.

“My parents are thinking of bringing me to Seoul this weekend to check out a few unis… I just thought that I’d let you know since, y’know… I’m graduating soon…”

Your heart sank at the mention of him graduating. You knew it was bound to happen - you even told yourself to not be too sad when he does end up moving out of Daegu for college. But, to hear it coming from Seungcheol himself, the reality hit harder.

“Oh… Well, I’m happy for you!” you tried your best to hide the sadness in your voice, though he still picked it up. “Pup, I’m not going away forever. You’ll still see me when I come back during breaks and when you leave for college, you can come over to Seoul, too!” he assures you, chuckling to himself as he continues, “Maybe our parents might even have us share an apartment so I can watch over you.”

Humming, you stared up into the sky, mesmerised by the stars that were scattered along the blanket of the night sky.

“___?”

“Yea…?”

“Remember what I taught you during our taekwondo sessions?”

“What about it?”

“Don’t forget how to use them, okay? Can’t have my little puppy all defenceless now, can I?”

you bit your lip as Seungcheol went on with his words, how he wished he could stay in Daegu longer so he could spend more time with you. How he wanted to explore the bigger city in Daegu with you (where he implies it being just two of you and without Aki who would often nag at him for having a bad taste in things).

“I’m gonna miss you…” you muttered quietly, not knowing how or what else you were supposed to say. You weren’t going to tell him about your feelings, that’s for sure. but, a part of you wished you could.

Who knows? Maybe you both could end up being something.

“It’s getting late, pup. you must be tired from the flight and settling in. Goodnight, ___.”

“Goodnight, Cheollie…”

When the call ended, you stared at the screen of your phone, a million thoughts racing through your head. You couldn’t put a finger on it, but you had a sinking feeling in your stomach. perhaps you were overthinking the whole situation or something wrong was bound to happen. Whatever it was, you quietly got back into your room and crawled into bed.

Something didn’t feel right.

It was the weekend Seungcheol was due to head to Seoul to have a look at the city and attend a few of the education fairs - and not once, had you gotten a single message from him.

In fact, in the days leading up to that weekend, he had been quiet too. His replies were either short, took too long or there weren’t any replies at all.

It makes you feel uneasy.

“Still no updates from loverboy?” Seungkwan asks, glancing over your shoulder and peeking at your phone, seeing the wall of texts about how the past few days have gone down for you. When you sulkingly shake your head, Seungkwan’s heart aches as he sees his favourite cousin down in the dumps.

“Hey,” he calls out in a gentle tone, throwing an arm around your shoulder and pulling you close. “Maybe he’s just caught up with those college things. Sooner or later he’s bound to update you, right? Besides, you should be busy having fun here in Jeju!”

Looking at your phone one last time, you shoved it back into your pocket and let Seungkwan drag you to a food street, saying how they added more delicious treats since the last time you visited.

By evening, there was still no news about or from Seungcheol. You’ve tried calling him multiple times, but they all end up going to voicemail. It was starting to affect you and your parents began to take notice, but decided to not question it for fear of triggering an episode. After dinner, you decided to call Aki in an attempt to get some form of comfort.

“I just don’t understand, Aki,” you told her, “I texted him, even called him but I got nothing! What if something bad happened to him?”

“Hey now, you’re probably overthinking things. He might just be sorting those uni documents out - you know how lengthy and taxing they can be. Maybe, he’s just tired and needs some rest!”

“You think so?”

“It’s just a guess, ___. whatever it is, I’m sure it isn’t anything serious.”

Oh, how you wished it really wasn’t anything serious.

When the time came to send your parents off at the airport for their trip to London, you had sent a message to Seungcheol and yet again, you got no response. One thing you came to realise in recent years, was how big of an over-thinker you are. It was something you hated and while your family, Seungcheol and Aki have done whatever they can to help you lessen your overthinking, that still doesn’t stop it from creeping up on you from time to time.

Seungkwan does his best to cheer you up. Bringing you to more food streets, a maze field, and even the seaside to take your mind off of Seungcheol but alas, it was as if Seungcheol had taken over your mind just like the virus in ‘The Last of Us’. One evening as you sat on the sand of the beach, staring off into the horizon, Seungkwan came up and sat next to you.

“I know this might not sound nice, but you can’t let something like Seungcheol not responding to you ruin your trip, ___. Sure, it’s upsetting having someone you’ve known for years and care for go ghost on you, but it’s kind of… pathetic, to let it ruin what could be a fun summer vacation.”

As much as those words hurt you, Seungkwan was right.

You hadn’t seen your family that lived in Jeju for years and now that you can, you’re letting something like your crush not responding to you ruin it. “Then, what should I do, Kwannie…?” you asked, wiping the tears that were starting to stream down your face, “I don’t wanna leave Jeju knowing I didn’t get to spend time with you and our grandparents…”

“How about you try calling him only once? If he doesn’t pick up, we’ll forget about it and move on, okay?”

You give it a thought, minutes passing by before you pick up your phone and dial Seungcheol’s number, placing it near your ear.

“We’re sorry, the number you have dialled cannot be reached.”

Seungkwan noticed your body shaking as you redialled the number, your breathing starting to grow shallow.

“We’re sorry, the number you have dialled cannot be reached.”

“___?” Seungkwan calls out, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. When you began to cry, he pulled you into a hug, rubbing your back as you cried your heart out. “Shhh, it’s okay, ____. it’s okay.”

When you got back to Daegu, your heart dropped at the sight of the empty house next to yours. the entire house looked as if it were fully emptied (which it was) - the potted plants Mrs. Choi had displayed on the gates were nowhere to be seen, the shoes that were neatly arranged on the shoe rack weren’t there anymore, and the Choi’s family car wasn’t parked in its usual place.

“I guess they must’ve moved since Seungcheol is going to start college soon…” your mother tells your father who hums in response as he unloads the luggage from the trunk of the taxi. When she notices the sadness and tears in your eyes, she immediately starts comforting you.”Oh, sweetie… Does it upset you that much?”

“I… I couldn’t even say goodbye to him…” you sobbed out, “I couldn’t even see him one last time before he left…”

“Oh, princess…” your father coos after bidding the taxi driver goodbye, hugging you tight as your mother does the same, “I’m sure he feels sad for not being able to do the same, hmm?”

“Will… Will I… Will I be able to see him again?” you asked through hiccuped sobs, wiping your tears away as more kept spilling. Your mother nods, giving you a pat on the head. “I'm sure you will, honey.”

“He said he’s thinking of joining University of Pledis, right?” your father asked, a small smile on his face when you nod, “Then, you just need to study hard and get in there too! That way, you can finally be reunited with prince charming!”

despite your tears, you still manage to laugh at your dad’s tease. “Dad!”

“Ah-ah, don’t think we didn’t know about your little crush on Seungcheol, ___.” he responded, chuckling as he gave your arm an assuring squeeze.

“Whatever the future has in store, I’m sure the two of you will meet again.”

taglist (unable to tag a few ㅠㅠ)

@yoonclip @1004luvangel @catjunhui @mystikha @spk93 @tinkerbell460 @yoozuku @dnylwoo @christinewithluv @limbomoon @plutoxxxworld @i-give-up-1234 @m1ngyuc0re @yunloyal @leclercloverbot @bettybeako @billboard-singer @ocyeanicc @krupyadoorrahe @seobinnieshi @xcynthiaaa @k411z @disneyprincesshuri @sunnyapp @khxsh @staygenezy @loufi8iepuff @ursweetener @noisypapergalaxy @wonwootakemyheart @sugainpinksweater @leah-rose03 @thisisnotthelastofus @yearnoclock @kwonhoeshi @minhui896 @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @ru-lin @deobiforever @belladaises @cheoliekkuma @duskunt1ldawn @hyneyedfiz @marshmallowshouse @ak6ko @chwevernonlover @jejuboo-s @tsukinluv @atinytinaa @gyros-cum-sock @soupbinlily @jungwoos-luvr @ener-energy @watermelon-sugars-things @cyberpunkhwx @ddaengpotate @nightwingsrobbinhoods @chaerrylov3r @joshuaahong @wonussmile @uliceeeeeeee @wonwoo24 @shinetogether17 @simplejihoon @luvkpopp

[gortashs-skidmark]

Tieflings DnD - variations for the fanfic writers and artists!! -

There’s a lot about tieflings on the internet. THESE ARE CANON, except for one thought i put in.

If you’re gonna do BG3 fanfics about Tieflings, please please please consider adding some spice with origin lore and CANON facts about their race :) it would be SO fun!

Pls I need more zevlor fanfic too.

PLS READ: I don’t believe in censorship or ignoring the subject of people who are oppressed, but be mindful of how you write and use oppression of dnd races on your tav pls.

- Orange; Canon Historical Events, Abilities, Bodily Facts, and Bloodlines. It means i think you should look into it.

Pink: I think it's cute. Red; Warning, Comment Purple; Headcanon (only one of them)

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- Tieflings are prone to bad luck, because of the Curse of Aasimar.

- Planar Proverb “don’t ever make a bet with a Tiefling” hey I already made one with Lakrissa.

- They’re arcanally gifted, most of them. Zariel Tieflings are much better melee fighters.

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- Tielfling Blood; is tainted from the hells so they could have human parents. Be descendants of demon, devils, evil deities, night hags, and succubus!

- i know y’all love aphrodisiac fanfics, succubus spittle is exactly what you need dawg. Someone make me a fanfic including succubus heritage.

- along with that, Tieflings are unable to breed with anyone except humans or other Tieflings. Literally. They can be Tiefling or human.

- Usually there is some tell to if they’re Zariel, Asmodeus, Mephistopheles by birth mark, or traits like cat eyes, or night hags bloodlines have red eyes without pupils or scelaras

EDIT: I thought the flaming pupils were cat-like slit eyes in the game, but Karlach does indeed have regular slits!

- Tieflings can be male, female, or without gender. It is a canon fact. A win for my gender struggling homies.

- They can have green, blue, purple, pink, yellow, red skin tones. With dark hair colors only like black, purple, dark red and blue. I don’t care for this, genes be gene-ing so have any color you want.

Mephestopheles is recorded as to having blue skin, pale blue whites and red eyes, soot black scales, with large wings in the 2nd Manual. BUT in a 3e version he is described having red skin, bat wings, being 9ft, with white eyes, and slick black hair. Both of these are present in Mephestophic Bloodlines in BG3. Raphael is the son, though cambion, is red.

Asmodeus rules the Nine Hells. Mephestopheles being his archduke, only rules the 8th layer. Asmodeus has a humanoid, and a scale-fiend version of himself. He's red, slim, 13ft tall, horned, vibrant red eyes, and a neatly trimmed beard. He is Lawful-Evil.

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The Blood War (where Karlach escaped) is described as a "philosophical war" and which kind of evil would rule. Asmodeus plays a part but didn't start it, it's rooted in ancient Hell conflicts. Asmodeus claimed it was a senselessly bloody conflict from a militia standpoint. He really hates it, he's not a fan of it. INFERNAL POLITICS ARE FUCKING COMPLICATED. look into it :)

Zevlor was a Hellrider or Rider of Elturel! a Cavalry unit for Elturel during the 14th and 15th century. They ride horseback, and use spears and bows. They're well reguarded!! Zevlor should have more pride in himself for his service, being a refugee isn't his fault, or The Descent.

In the late 1400's striving for Paladin Knighthood in the Order of Companion was a rank of Hell rider. Before and after the year 1494, you could be a Paladin and join freely.

The Order of Companions was an Elturel, of Western Heartland, theocratic realm of Paladin Knighthood. It's just a region of Paladins that are highly reguarded. They typically worship Tyr, Torm, Helm, and Aumanator.

They kept order in the high capital of Elturel, preserving local civilization from outer destruction. They're super Lawful Good.

Typically an Oath of Devotion or an Oath of the Crown.

"For a City Guard, they outmatched the armies of the Whole Realm" - Forgotten Wiki Realms

They guard general land, they aren't really police, and can escort as far as Waterdeep if privileged to. It is a job they hold for life. I FUYCKING LOVE HELLRIDERS.

Shortly after Elturel’s descent into Avernus, the Tieflings were blamed for the fall, and expelled from the city entirely. Zevlor and any tiefling hellrider’s title has been stripped from them. Any hellrider’s were arrested at The Gate. And the reputation of tieflings sunk even lower.

Badlurian’s are Elturian’s rivals but Duke Ravenguard was tricked into coming to Elturel for politics and ended up helping and sending in troops to help fight. He’s extra important! I might find Wyll, all though lovely, useless, his father is very brave and noble and amazing for what he does.

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- Tieflings can have feathers! Although rare. They can have fur, scales, or be bald like humans. They can be any variation of sorts!

- A more common portrayal of tieflings, is having solid colored eyes, whites and irises the same color. They can be black, red, silver, gold, or white.

- Tieflings are technically minorities and don’t live in the highest neighborhoods. It gives them an even worse reputation.

- Most of the Tieflings with famous status, also give bad reps. Climbing their way to the top in corruption.

- When Tieflings get nervous, experience anxiety, or are upset. They’re known to wrap their tails around their leg!! Super telling.

- They can use their tail like a monkey, very dexterous about it. It’s about 5-6ft long.

- Their ages, weight, height. All similar to humans. Idk how logical that is with 5 extra feet of meat behind them. Sometimes they can live longer, to about 120-150 years old.

- Tieflings can look just like humans. Though they can have their hellish features, those with strong hellish features are often killed at birth out of disgust.

- They can also have legs of a goat, tail akin to a horse or a lizard.

- Tieflings can be really good at thieving, hiding, and deceit.

- their diet consists of meat, marrow, gristle, fat, and bones. They’re highly carnivorous. They even eat roasted insects.

- Many worship Besheba, the goddess of bad luck, finding similarities in them and their goddess.

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- Tieflings are as sensitive as humans, same hearing. They usually have dark vision. And their body temperatures can be colder or warmer than humans depending on their type of tainted blood. --Mephistopheles blood lines are from the frozen layer of hell, maybe their blood is colder.

- They don’t purr, sorry girlies. They’re closer to humans than Tabaxis or Driders.

- Tieflings don’t regrow horns unless they’re still young, though they do tend to file them down.

- They have a natural unsettling aura about them. Even if their heritage is unknown to others, it makes people uncomfortable. They also can smell of sulphur.

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- There are so many Tieflings bloodlines. I love the Babau Tieflings bc they’re already known as uncanny creatures-- Babau Tieflings are gaunt and skinny, darker skin, and a small horn coming from the back of their head.

- Marilith Tieflings are known to be seductive- more than they already are, and have dark hair. They have snake-like half-bodies and have grey tongues.

- Succubus Tieflings! They’re like the ones you see in bg3, often have a small set of wings.

- Tieflings can have so many fucking variations it makes me dizzy.

- Tieflings can have bat-like wing shaped ears, that perk up and shit. I know yall think about ear movements. <zevlor has this>

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Edit: Ya'll loved this :) I can do another on Tiefling politics if ya'll want. Or more bloodlines and fun facts if you want.

I have built another list of Canon facts about Driders and Kar'niss Headcanons if you monster fuckers are interested!!

Currently in the works; He Who Was Headcanons and Shadar'Kai canon facts and events.

[mrsnancywheeler]

i know places // finnick odair x f.reader

request: Hiii, for the celebration could you do a soulmate au with Finnnick? Maybe after reader has won her games? Fluff pls but I don't mind some angst sprinkled in too. Thank you and I love your writing <3

masterlist

3k words

warnings: soulmate au, matching scars, closed off and guarded!reader, nearly instant love, attempted fluff, some angst, hurt/comfort, self-destructive behavior, trust issues, lovesick finnick, cocky finnick, unreliable narrator reader, unedited, no use of y/n, no sight of a slowburn anywhere, mentions of blood/violence/death

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You didn't win with your charm. Before the games there was no popularity because of your interview with Caesar, the only semblance of any likeability was from your somewhat impressive training score, a 10. Regardless of what Panem wanted, your survival skills had come into clutch and brought you straight to the crown. A rare underdog winning the games. According to your mentor though the press had begun spinning you as meek when they'd realized you were in the top eight. You hadn't been the only tribute who tried it lone wolf and it conflicted with another story, so you were instead supposed to be quiet, gentle, and that's why you kept to yourself. Not because your district partner had attacked you night two, after claiming he would take watch, only for you to overtake him instead.

So now, post your victory they expected you to lean into the role, which didn't come naturally. Not when all you wanted to do was stop performing, scrub off your skin which still carried the weight of dirt and blood even if you'd taken plenty of showers since your return, and under the warm blankets of your bed. Maybe if you didn't feel so guilty and numb it would be easier to play at, but now everyone wanted a piece of you. You'd much rather they get bored of you.

Instead you'd been dragged out to a Capitol celebration before your return back home. The interview, the crowning, apparently hadn't been enough because no matter how they tried to make you seem, you were too guarded for them to get a good read on who you were. You didn't want them to know who you were, they'd already stolen you from your home, dolled you up, and forced you to fight to survive against the other dolls. Leaving your hands forever bloodstained and the screams ringing in your ears. Yet the dollhouse had not burned down when the cannon went off, they'd just deadbolted the doors. Who knew what other demented games they'd force you to play if they were given a chance to see inside your brain. So the walls stayed firmly up as you planted yourself firmly in a nook somewhere and the bustling of the party.

The dress was itchy, the shoes pinched at your feet, the way they'd styled your hair had every nerve on your scalp screaming for freedom, and the drink smelt too sickly sweet for one to even fathom sipping on. People would be looking to hound you, to find a reaction, and hopefully you could just disappear into the brick. Although fate seemed to have other plans.

“Mind if I join you?" You looked up, dreading having to talk to someone. What would you even say without revealing too much? Then of course you hadn't expected it to be the Capitol darling, Finnick Odair, himself.

He was an attention grabber. Too beloved, too shiny, wherever he went the moths were soon to follow. Which was the last thing you needed, curse Finnick Odair if he brought attention to you. “Yes, I do mind." ‘Leave. Let me see how long I can sit here until anyone approaches, let them be distracted by the wealth around them so they leave me be.’ Your brain, foot tapping the cobblestone.

He laughed, that swoon worthy smirk taking over his face. Warmth, an inviting aura radiated off of him, but you despised it at this moment. The audacity he had felt unmatched when he slid into the nook anyways. You'd met him less then a minute away and he was already being nothing less than cockily malicious. Although you shouldn't have been surprised, that's how people described him. Maybe the worst part was that some deep part of you said that it was okay, that it was right. Which was a ridiculous thought, it had barely been anytime at all.

“Do you scowl like that whenever people try to talk to you, honey?" Finnick took a bite out of whatever pastry he was holding, something extravagant, brushed with flakes of gold. He held it out, “You should try it, it's sweet like you're supposed to be."

You said nothing, if he was going to insist on being here then you certainly weren't going to reward his efforts. No, you weren't going to even look at him, your arms crossed as you kept tapping your foot. He'd get bored of you and leave eventually, if what they said was true he was bound to find someone sparklier to play with. Even if some part of you would've been okay being his shiny new toy, no that was ridiculous, however you could make the allowance that everyone had hormones so it was only natural to be feeling like this. Of course he'd be this way, the man who supposedly had no soulmate, who could play with as many hearts as he wanted because in the end there apparently was no one out there for him. What a sad existence. Thinking about it almost made you feel bad for him, but you couldn't feel that much pity when he was so close to leading the vultures right to you.

“They're gonna find you eventually, you can't hide out here forever." He was terrible, insufferable. You glowered at him and his smirk widened. “There's no point in being miserable when they're going to do this until the next games. Might as well make the most of it.” Then like he had the right to be the most entitled man in the world took the glass right out of your hand and took a drink. You hated it here, hated how people acted, that you had no one, and most of all hated the way it made you feel. Like he was the only person you should've ever paid attention to. “Didn't seem like you were gonna drink it, you can still have some if you change your mind." You didn't make a move to grab the glass, “Didn't think so." Damn him and his attitude, and his perfect teeth, and the way it made your soul feel fulfilled for some odd reason. Which was nothing less than outrageous since all he'd done in the past couple minutes was drive you up the wall. Then the voices of chatter outside got louder, ‘Shit, shit shit,’ you thought. His magnetism was going to guide them straight to you. He could seemingly tell that this put you on edge because he put a single finger on his lips, a ‘shhh.’ This only served to irk you more, of course you knew to be quiet, this was his fault.

Soon enough the voices began fading again and you were ever so grateful. “Get out." You muttered, burrowing yourself further into the corner.

“This is where I usually take my breathers, not my fault you found it too." He shrugged. How a person managed to look so perfect you'd never know and didn't want to if it made them act like him.

“You've taken more than enough breaths, so you can go now."

"Honey, being a victor is all about who you know. You need good connections or your reputation will eat you alive.”

You glared,"I'll make good connections when they finally find me, but not right now.”

He looked at you with pity, you despised that he felt the right to pity you, but it felt so nice for someone to finally look at you like you weren't in need of congratulations."It takes most of us a couple months to start hating the attention, the realization hit you quicker didn't it?” There was no way he expected you to open up to him, yes you wanted to, but you couldn't. Nobody could be trusted, that was the first lesson the arena really taught you. “Being standoffish isn't going to stop them, it'll only make them see you as a problem victor, and I promise you that's the last thing you want."

Your voice unintentionally softened,"What do you want?”

"To make sure you're gonna be okay, everyone needs someone backing their side in this arena.” This arena. A different, more social one, because you'd never be able to escape. For someone who ticked you off in every sense within a minute, just as fast he'd begun chipping away at your walls.

"You don't want to back my side.”

"Yeah, I do.” Your face was still stony, even if you felt like your stomach was less anxious about being caught and more butterflies. Of course the first man who gave you attention would make you nearly lose resolve. No, he had to want something, be playing some game.

"No one wants to bet on the losing dog.”

"Good thing you're not losing, honey. And believe it or not, maybe there's just something about you.”

"You don't know me.”

"I know and that's what's weird about it.” There was a crease forming on his furrowed brow. “Come on, you should go make an appearance."

There was no way to step back, but you tried. Heel pushing out of the shoe, but you made no move to push it back in. You were too defensive, as long as you could hide you would. “No." You shook your head.

He sighed, “You don't even have to be you, make up a persona, but you have to do something or things will get worse." No, you couldn't bear to let people peer into you, it was terrible that Finnick was even getting a taste of it. You'd only make them hate you more anyways, they'd only grow to realize it would've been better to have anyone but you. “I'll go with you, take the attention off." Maybe that would work, but then what might people think? That you were the type of person easily won over by charming looks and cocky smirks, maybe you were, but that wasn't the point.

However, you did let yourself contemplate it. You couldn't reasonably hide here all night, and his charisma could make up for what you lacked. Plus, even if you hated to admit it, if there was anyone you'd want to stick by you, to tell you everything would be alright, it would be him. It didn't make sense why you felt this way and you almost felt guilty for how crazy it made you sound. It was a miracle he even wanted to stick around when you were being so bitchy, but he was an ass, so it must have evened out.

“I don't need you to stick around me." You lied through your teeth, it was better than making him think that reliance was a vulnerability of yours. Even if it was. Even if it looked like he had the kind of arms you could cry into, you hadn't cried yet, but this was all so overwhelming it felt like you might.

Finnick looked a little wounded, but there was more pity. Like he knew you were biting to try and keep yourself safe, like you were still in survival mode. “I get it, if you change your mind, just look my way." Yet he stood still like he was waiting for you to move first, making sure you didn't just hide away the whole night. Which you would've, if it could become part of the wall you'd thank it for the opportunity. You stared back until finally the tension of the silence became so palpable that you forced yourself to move. Rather unceremoniously as you'd forgotten the way your heel was still sticking out of the shoe and tumbled right out of the rest of it.

“Fuck!" You quietly exclaimed and Finnick was quick to assist you. You wished he hadn't because the moment he touched you it was as if rays of sunlight were buzzing through your veins, like your soul was ascending.

“Oh, I got you!"

“I'm fine." You pushed him off, so the feeling would stop. It was awful, it was weird, there was no plausible reason you should feel like this. Unless…no that was ridiculous.

“Sorry." But sorry didn't make up for the residual waves of electricity, or the way your heart pounded. Or how terrible it was that you wanted to feel it again. "Here let me get your shoe.” Then his nice dress pants were on the dirty cobblestone and you felt bad thinking about how they could get ruined.

"It's okay-” But then he was pausing at your foot, and the sunlight in your blood was back even stronger as his fingers began tracing something on your foot.

"What's that?”

You tried to pull your foot away but his fingertips chased after it, "It's nothing, just the stupid soulmate scar." It wasn't stupid, never had been to you, but it was better to protect your feelings. Finnick laughed, “What?" You asked, finally pulling your foot completely away.

“Oh my god, I'm an idiot. Of course I wanted to talk to you." He kept laughing and then was abruptly pulling off his shoe.

“What are you doing?" He didn't respond as he finally pried the shoe off and the sock.

“Look, they're the same. Oh my god, I found you!" His laughter was certain to alert someone with the way it carried with the breeze, it should've annoyed you more than it did, but it was like music when it passed through your ears.

“What're you talking about?" He playfully rolled his eyes and then his hand was pulling you down on the ground with him. And despite the dirt that would get on your dress, the electric sunshine felt too good to pull away. So you sat in the pile of your dress on the ground and let him guide your feet together.

“Look at that, honey. Look at that." You would've asked what he wanted you to look at, but it quickly became obvious. Two scars, in the same place, the same size, you shared that scar with Finnick Odair. He, the Finnick Odair, who you'd just met and had already pushed you through an array of emotions, was your soulmate. The part of you that had been gnawing in the back of your brain was celebrating in ‘I told you so’s.’

“Oh.” You traced over them slowly, trying to let it sink in. Suddenly you had a soulmate, well you always had, but he was right there. Suddenly things would be alright, and maybe the universe wanted to spite you because you'd always imagined that was the person you'd finally have to open up to. Here he was, the man you'd been actively pushing away the help of.

"Is that a good, oh?” He asked and you felt bad for how you could feel a slight worry in his voice.

"I thought you didn't-”

"I lied, the nick on my foot was from swimming, and it helped the people who wanted to fawn over me. Almost convinced myself it was true though, but here you are.”

"What're you trying to do here?” You couldn't trust him, even if it felt right, even if he made your heart swell. No, this wasn't right, you were just you, and he was Finnick Odair.

Now though it was as if he could read you like a book, like all your guarded insecurities were on a display. It was a horrendous and gratifying experience to be known, to be perceived. "I'm not trying to do anything, honey, we're just meant to be. Not playing at anything, promise." So you sat there in the pile of fabric on the floor, cold stone giving you goosebumps as you stared at him. This was it, there was no need to be cautious because it was meant to be. Why would someone betray their own soulmate? He definitely didn't seem like the type.

“Okay." You finally exhaled and he smiled so wide that it made it worth it. Your walls have been somewhat successfully picked at because you let him embrace you. In fact, you let yourself relax in his arms.

“You're real, you're really real." He held you like you might slip away in a dream. “So pretty, so smart, and real!" He buried his head in your shoulder. It felt good to let someone care about you like this and it made you feel better about how instantly attracted you'd been. You'd probably look back and hate yourself for it, but you felt yourself crying. "Hey, hey, what's wrong, honey?”

You shook your head and he wiped one away, letting you hide in his chest. He was so warm, it felt so right, like the sunshine feeling would never go away. "You meant what you said earlier right? You'll stick by me?"

It felt so right when his hands traced up and down the back of your neck, “Of course, honey, won't leave your side. I got you."

God, this was embarrassing. "Sorry.” You pulled away and he shook his head.

"You're okay, don't worry, that's what this is for. We're here for each other.”

You nodded slowly, sinking into his deep eyes, you'd never seen the ocean, but you imagined that's what it would look like. "I should go make my appearance now.” Before you said another thing he had your shoe back on your foot and his on as well. Pulling you up to help you stand. "Promise to stay?" It felt pathetic, but also like he was the one you were supposed to turn to.

“Promise. I'll never leave your side, honey." Finnick squeezed your hand and maybe you could now face the world. The universe had gifted you, at your lowest point, your soulmate in a matter of minutes. Someone who could already seemingly read you like a book and made your heart beat like there was a racket happening, and you knew that you'd finally be able to just truly be you with someone. Through thick and thin, through the highest highs and lowest lows, suddenly you knew you had each other.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you so much for reading, I tried to make this fluffy but honestly it's kind of a struggle so I hope it's up to standard. as always if you enjoyed feedback, comments, reblogs, likes, are all very, very appreciated. asks and requests are both open and I love you all 💋

@wowzabowza69

[soaplickerrr]

╰┈➤ How I feel like SKZ would reveal your relationship!!

Felix

Bangchan, Lee Know, Changbin, Hyunjin, Jisung, Felix, Seungmin, I.N

Go show some love to “Stray Love”, It's an Idol!Hyunjin x FemReader fic, first part is out!

Warnings~ FemReader | Established relationship | Idol Au | kinda ooc | I can't write very accurate personalities so pls forgive me for that 😔

Ps: These will be accidental moments when a fan notices something and the member can't help but just reveal it.

Summary: Felix gets a call from you during a live.

Felix was having a great time on a live stream with Chan, answering fan questions and chatting with Stay. They were having a lighthearted conversation when Felix's phone started ringing. The sound caught both of them off guard, and Bang Chan raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

Felix immediately recognized the caller ID as yours, and he panicked. He didn't want to let your relationship slip on a live stream, so as he picked up the phone, he frantically started repeating, "I'm on a live, I'm on live, I'm on live," hoping you would understand the message and hang up.

As Felix continued repeating the words, Chan couldn't help but chuckle at his panic. "Who called, man? And why is your phone not on DND" Chan asked, still amused by the situation. But Felix simply gestured to his phone, still facing away from the camera, signaling that he couldn't reveal it on the live stream.

Fans in the chat quickly noticed the interaction and started speculating about who had called. Theories about secret girlfriends and other scenarios flew through the comment section. Some even joked that it could be a ghost calling him. Chan couldn't resist joining in the fun and playfully teased Felix.

"Sounds like someone very important, huh?" Chan teased, a smirk on his face. Felix rolled his eyes but couldn't help but laugh at the situation. He quickly composed himself and got back to answering fan questions, trying to distract himself and the fans from the phone call.

Shortly after, Felix felt his phone vibrate with a notification. He discreetly checked it and saw that you had understood his signal and hung up. He quickly texted you a message, letting you know that he was on a live stream and would call you back later. He breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that their secret hadn't been discovered.

The rest of the live stream continued without any further interruptions. Chan and Felix continued to chat and interact with Stay, unaware of the whirlwind of theories and speculations they had caused with the brief phone call. However, the incident lingered in the backs of their minds, a reminder of the secret they had to keep.

A few days later, JYP Entertainment briefly broke the news that Felix had been in a relationship for the past year. Fans reacted with shock and excitement, many expressing happiness for the couple.

A couple weeks later, Felix uploaded a picture on his Instagram Story of him dressed up in a stylish LV suit, you sporting an expensive, captivating, LV gown beside him, attending a Louis Vuitton event together. The picture confirmed the rumors and speculation that had circulated after the live incident.

Fans were both surprised and elated to see the revelation. They praised the couple's secretiveness and wished them happiness.

Stray Kids' members were supportive of Felix and you guys’ relationship. When Lee Know was asked in a live stream about the situation, he chuckled and responded, "Oh, I already knew. I was the one who found out, anyway."

Stray Kids fans reacted with amusement to this revelation. They knew how close the members were and how they often shared each other's secrets. The fact that Lee Know had been the first to find out about the relationship only added to the bonding and connection among the members.

Fans praised Stray Kids for their supportive friendship and the strong bond they shared. Many commented on how Lee Know's statement showed the close-knit relationship within the group, where they supported each other through thick and thin.

The incident further strengthened the fans' adoration for Stray Kids. They admired the members not just for their talent and music, but also for their genuine care and support for each other. Stray Kids' authenticity and loyalty to each other resonated with the fans, making them even more endearing in their eyes.

WRITERS BLOCK IS TRYING TO GET ME, AND ITS FAILING 🥳

[potatoplace]

Mastermind

Dark!Feysand x Reader Modern AU

Part 2 | ACOTAR x Reader Masterlist

Story Summary: Your friend of a few months, Feyre, invited you out for a celebratory drink over your new job, and of course her husband Rhys joins you. The night doesn't go quite as planned, and you end up back at their place with very few wits about you.

Warnings: Drugging, dub-con / non-con, abduction, smut

Words: ~3.8k

Author's Note: so uhmmmm. This idea. Got me to write. Uhhh. Yeah. Enjoy. I sure did hehe 🤭 the chokehold feysand has on me recently is. Very strong. Near irresistible. There might be future parts to this, I'm not sure yet. Read the warnings please!!

18+ only pls

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

Tonight was supposed to be fun.

Your friends Feyre and Rhys had offered to take you out for a drink at Rita’s when she heard about your new job, doing remote work as a graphic designer for a marketing firm.

Feyre’s had suggested the job after all, knowing that your dream lay beyond the coffee shop that you currently work in- well, used to work in, you had quit earlier that day.

That, plus your new, upscale apartment that you rent at an amazing price had made your year considerably better than the last few.

And tonight was supposed to be fun, you had worn your smallest black dress, with tiny straps just barely holding it onto your body.

Yet here you were, being driven home after only two drinks, sitting in the backseat of Rhys and Feyre’s car in Feyre’s arm. You felt dizzy, and heated all over.

It was the type of drunk you rarely felt- overwhelmingly needy and aroused.

You just needed to make it home, and thankfully Rhys and Feyre live in the same building, so there’d be no problems with getting you into your apartment.

This building has way more security than your last apartment, there you were lucky to have never been broken into, with how many times your previous neighbors had been stolen from.

The car came to a slow, smooth stop, and you heard a car door open and shut. Then, one of Feyre’s arms moved from your body, causing you to whine as she opened the door on her side.

The door on your end of the car opened, and you were quickly pulled into the arms of someone warm and solid.

Keeping your eyes open was a struggle, but you managed to tilt your head up, gaze passing over a strong jaw, high cheekbones, and finally locking briefly with intense violet eyes. Rhys smiled down at you, eyes darkened with-

Something.

You were just tired and dizzy and you- oh, you need a shower. The water could drown out your noises, just in case the state you’re in makes you louder than usual. Your thighs rubbed together slightly as your mind wandered, already set on having the feeling of warm water hitting your skin and your hand between your thighs.

Your eyes closed as the three of you passed through a doorway, and a few dings of the elevator later Rhys is walking once more, gentle movements only making you sleepier.

He sets you on the floor gently once you’re in your apartment only-

It’s not your apartment.

“We didn’t think you should be alone right now, darling, with how you’re feeling,” Feyre explained softly, one of her hands already wrapping around yours. “Did you need anything?”

“A shower,” you blurted out, more than ready to have the smell of the club, however faint it was, off of your skin.

“That we can provide, darling,” Rhys said, smacking your ass as he walked away from the both of you. You turned to say something to him, but Feyre was already moving, leading you by the hand.

You passed though a luxurious bedroom, with a California king bed draped in black silk standing out most to you. You could see chains attached to the posts-

“Here we are, Y/N. Did you need help with anything?” Feyre asked, waving her hand to the large bathroom she had taken you too. The shower was open, no curtain or door to close it off from the rest of the room.

You simply shook your head. You could manage a shower on your own, surely, you were already feeling a little better than in the club. “Thank you, Fey,” you said softly, taking her in for a hug.

“Oh, it’s nothing sweetheart. Absolutely nothing,” Feyre replied, pushing the hair away from your face and gathering it into a bun for you, securing it with the scrunchie she’d gotten while you weren’t paying attention. She started the water for you before leaving the room, shutting the door behind her.

You used a makeup wipe to rid yourself of your makeup, feeling far too greasy to not wash your face, then quickly stripped off your dress and your panties and slipped into the stream of water, sighing when the warm water hit your skin. It felt just as good as you imagined- and then your thoughts went back to what you’d thought of on the way up the elevator.

Your hand slipped down, landing between your thighs as water poured over you. Your fingers dipped between your folds, your cunt already thoroughly drenched even without the water running between your legs. You swirled your fingers around your clit slowly, letting out soft sighs every now and then. The pleasure in your gut grew as you moved them faster-

“Y/N? Did you need help with anything?” Feyre asked through the door, and you quickly moved your hands from between your thighs.

“No, Fey, I’m alright,” you said, cheeks blazing with heat.

“Rhys had a nice idea, would you like to go swimming?” Feyre offered, and you turned to your right to see that she’s in the room with you. You covered your chest, keeping as much of yourself hidden as you could.

Swimming could be nice. And you’d seen their pool, it had such a pretty view, and you’d never gone in it before. You nodded your head, eyes taking note of the bikini in Feyre’s hands.

“Good, you can wear this, darling. I’ll be waiting for you outside, don’t take too long,” Feyre said, blowing you a kiss before she closed the door behind her.

Your cheeks heated even further, you’d never had such a nice and friendly female friend before, let alone such a pretty one. Your thoughts strayed to what Feyre would look like in a bikini- absolutely perfect, you were sure. Fingers dipped back between your thighs, rubbing quick circles over your clit, you just needed to cum once, once then you could go enjoy the rest of your night with your friends-

A knock at the door, right as you were about to finish.

Feyre entered without waiting for you to respond, this time without the stunning black dress she’d been wearing before. Instead, she was completely naked.

You blushed profusely, turning your eyes away from her.

“Oh, darling, you can look all you like. I just thought, since you’re taking so long and I need to shower, I’d come in and just get mine done at the same time.” Feyre paused. “I could leave, if you’d like,”

Your brain was short circuiting, being so close to your incredibly beautiful, incredibly sexy friend of a few months. “Oh, that’s, uhm… that’s fine, Fey.”

Feyre smiled, getting a bit closer to you. “Good. Did you need help getting clean, sweetness?” Feyre asked, her chest nearly touching yours, still covered by your arms. She already had a cloth filled with soap in her hands and began running it across your shoulders soothingly. Your arms slowly feel from your chest, and Feyre took the opportunity to step closer, arms practically wrapped around you as she used the cloth to clean your back, her breasts pressed against yours.

You could hardly breathe, this woman, your friend was so perfect and naked and-

The cloth slipped over your cunt, Feyre’s deft fingers quickly rubbing it over your clit, and a quiet moan escaped you. The cloth was gone a second later, two of Feyre’s fingers sinking into your cunt as the other hand came to rub circles on your clit. You came shamefully quickly, already having worked yourself up so high before your friend entered the room.

“Good girl,” Feyre whispered against your ear before pressing hot kisses down your neck, only pulling away to grab the cloth off the floor of the shower and begin washing you once more. Once she was finished, she pushed you back into the stream of water, rinsing the suds off of your body. “Help me out?” Feyre asked, hands already pushing the cloth into yours. When you hesitated, she made puppy dog eyes at you. “I helped you, pleeease Y/N?”

That was all you needed, body moving of its own accord as your hands used the cloth to clean her body, trying not to linger too long on her breasts, ass, and her sweet looking pussy that at the moment you knew you wanted nothing more than to bury your face in. Feyre rinsed herself off, her hands lingering over the spots you’d wanted to touch longer. You were on the verge of getting on your knees and begging when Rhys’s voice came from the doorway.

“You ladies are so gorgeous,” he said, walking further into the room, and it was then that you noticed- he’s naked, his long, thick cock bobbing invitingly at you, already hard and waiting. You managed to snap your eyes away from him, only to land on Feyre’s chest.

Fuck, it should be illegal for these two to be this hot, you thought to yourself, thighs pressing together as you tried to look anywhere but at your two friends.

“Thank you, Rhys,” Feyre said, walking out of the shower and pulling him with her into it. “You can shower, the two of us will get in the pool. Right Y/N?”

You nodded, letting her grab your hand and lead you over to the towels. She dried you off, lingering over your sensitive areas longer than necessary, then helped dress you in the bikini she was lending you- if you could even call it that. It was practically strings, with small stars of fabric to cover your nipples and a slightly thicker strip of fabric to cover your cunt.

But, if your friends had already seen you naked… what’s the harm?

Feyre was dressed similarly, her bikini in black instead of your silver set. She pulled you out of the bathroom, through their bedroom and out onto the patio. Feyre sat at the edge of the pool, patting the ground next to her, and you joined her a moment later.

You sighed, then leaned your head onto Feyre’s shoulder.

“Feeling better yet, darling?” She asked, her right arm coming up to circle around your shoulders. You nodded against her shoulder, kicking your legs gently in the water. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“Would either of you ladies like another drink?” Rhys asked from behind you.

“Yes please, Rhysie,” Feyre responded. “She’ll have a soda, I think. Hmm, baby? Does that sound good?” You nodded your head in confirmation. In no world do you need another drink at this point, for gods sake your friend already made you-

“Let’s get in the water, darling.” Feyre slipped in the pool, water coming to just under her barely covered breasts. “Join me?” She asked coyly, and you couldn’t help but follow her in, making your way to her immediately. The water came up to your collarbones, your height difference feeling so pronounced as you looked up at her, half expecting her to make another move.

“Here we are.” Rhys’s voice cut through the bubble you and Feyre had been in for a moment. You turned to look at him and saw that he was already sitting at the edge of the pool the two of you had entered at, two drinks in hand.

You and Feyre made your way to him, happily taking the drinks from his hand and watching as he slipped into the pool. The height difference between the two of you took your breath away slightly, you felt so small next to him. You took a few greedy sips of your soda to cover up how flustered you are around the couple tonight, every little thing about them seems to be turning you on more and more.

Feyre had taken a sip of her drink and set it back down, choosing to follow Rhys a bit deeper into the water.

You could see as he cupped her ass in his hands, her legs wrapping around his waist as they kissed passionately in front of you-

And you wanted, no, needed to be a part of that, your body already moving towards them before you were able to stop yourself. You turned back to the edge of the pool, feeling hot and dizzy with need like you had been earlier at Rita’s. Quickly, you set your drink on the smooth stone at the edge of the pool and took a few deep breaths.

These are your friends. They’re married. Stop being a whore-

Arms wrapped around you, and Feyre’s soft chest met your back. “Hi darling, not getting too lonely, are you?” She asked lowly in your ear, then pressed a soft trail of kisses from behind your ear all the way down your neck and onto your shoulder. You were leaning back against her by the time she came back up to your ear, lightly tugging on it with her teeth. “Turn around for me, sweetness,” she told you, hands helping move you where she wanted. “Perfect,” Feyre said breathily, before leaning down and pressing her lips against yours softly. The feel of her plush lips on yours was perfect, so gentle and warm. After a few seconds her tongue darted out, and you let her take control of the kiss, dominating your mouth with hers as she pushed you back against the wall of the pool.

When the two of you came up for air, you were filled with need so great you thought you might burst. You noticed a strong, tan pair of arms caging the two of you against the pool wall, and looked up to meet Rhys’s gaze. His violet eyes were filled with lust, matching the grey blue eyes of his wife that were also locked on yours. “What do you say darling? Be ours?” He asked, eyes darting down to your lips.

You tried to think about it, really think about it, but one of Feyre’s hands was between your thighs again, pushing past the tiny bikini and playing with your clit. Your eyes fell shut at her touch, a moan already making its way past your lips.

“Please,” you whined, not fully sure what you were begging for, you just knew that you needed more.

One thick finger slid into you, nearly as big as both of Feyre’s were earlier, and another moan fell from your lips, this one going into Feyre’s shoulder where you’d collapsed into her, unable to hold yourself up any longer.

“Oh, sweetness, I think it’s time,” Feyre said, disconnecting herself from you. “Get her into the bathroom, Rhys,” she ordered, already pulling herself out of the pool.

You were barely keeping yourself up, but Rhys moved closer to you, pulling you in to his chest. His kissed you gently, drawing a sweet sigh from your lips before he stopped and pushed you up onto the ledge of the pool, then followed you up. He helped you stand, and picked you up after you nearly fell after three steps.

“Silly girl, don’t worry, we’ll have you all nice and comfy in bed soon,” Rhys said, carrying you into the bathroom, where Feyre was already naked and rinsing off. “You got to dress her, I get to undress her,” Rhys snapped at Feyre when she tried to come over to you. She rolled her eyes, but stayed under the stream of water, waiting for both of you.

Rhys slowly peeled the bikini off of you, taking his time to squeeze your breasts and pinch your nipples hard enough to make you gasp, and grazing his fingers over your sensitive clit teasingly a few times. As soon as you were bare Feyre came over and pulled you back into the shower while Rhys rid himself of his swim trunks.

The warm spray felt nice on your skin again, especially paired with the gentle touches of the couple surrounding your senses. One of them gently guided your face under the spray of water, and the other cleaned your face with a familiar smelling soap. They rinsed your face carefully, then shut the water off and four hands began drying you off. Once your face was dry you opened your eyes to see Feyre’s pretty ones staring back at you.

“Let’s get your skincare done, sweetness,” she suggested, leading you over to the counter after Rhys had finished drying your body. Feyre applied a toner, moisturizer and eye cream, all of them the same ones that you used daily.

“That’s funny…” you said, trailing off.

“What is, darling?” Rhys asked from where he was stood behind you, arms encircling your torso. You stared at his thick arms, how muscular they are… then you realized that you could feel him- hard and pressed against your lower back. “What’s funny?” He whispered in your ear, and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out what he was talking about.

You didn’t respond. More like couldn’t, when his lips started sucking a deep, purple mark onto your neck and Feyre’s lips covered your own hungrily.

You were nothing but a quivering, needy mess when they pulled away, but luckily for you it was just to move you into the bedroom, onto their massive bed.

“Finally,” Feyre groaned at the sight of you spread out in the middle of their bed, your legs kept apart by their hands. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to taste this sweet pussy?” She asked you, looking expectantly down at your face. “Hmm?” She tapped her thumb on your clit twice, making your hips twitch. You shook your head. “Since the moment I met you. I knew that I needed to have you, that I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you weren’t mine and Rhys’s,” Feyre explained, now rubbing small, even circles on your clit. “And luckily for me, well, Rhys has a pretty big breeding kink and once he saw you…” Feyre grinned down at you, eyes soft.

“I knew I had to have you as well,” Rhys finished for her, his head already dipping down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. Your back arched as he teased it with his tongue, and between that and Feyre’s fingers you came quickly, breathy moans escaping your lips until Rhys’s mouth was over yours again. “Fuck, you are absolutely perfect,” he groaned.

Feyre fingers had moved away from you, and you were about to whine at the lack of stimulation before her mouth, warm and wet, began devouring you. She lapped up the slick that had leaked from you greedily before moving up to your clit. Feyre slowly licked at your sensitive bud, building up your pleasure once more as Rhys kissed you and played with your breasts, swallowing up the endless moan leaving you. When you were finally able to lift your head an look down at Feyre, you saw that she was grinding her thighs together as she ate you out with her eyes closed, and the sight of her so focused on your pleasure bringing you to the brink once more. You could hardly think when she climbed over you and kissed you, before moving up your body again and seating herself over your face.

Without a thought you flicked your tongue out, moaning at how wet she already was- for you.

Your arms came up to hold onto her thighs as licked at her center hungrily, sure that you had that same expression on your face that she had worn just moments before. You were happily sucking on your clit when you felt your legs being parted by-

Rhys was pushing in to you, the movement of his cock eased by how slick you were, and you moaned into Feyre’s cunt.

“Fuck, Y/N, don’t stop,” Feyre ordered breathlessly as she ground her hips down onto your face, forcing you to give she needs. She came on your face right as Rhys fully seated himself inside of you, all of the breath leaving your lungs as he did.

“Fey, she feels amazing. So tight and hot, I don’t know that I’ll ever leave the house again,” Rhys remarked as he began moving in and out of you slowly, letting your cunt adjust to his size as much as it could.

“Good thing we don’t have to for the next week,” Feyre said, still working her hips over your mouth, keeping your senses entirely filled by herself and her husband. Rhys started picking up the pace soon, letting one of his thumb graze over your clit every few seconds, your walls gripping him tighter in response. “Mm, fuck,” Feyre moaned, cumming on your face again, letting her hips twitch over you a few times before climbing off of you and sliding down so she could kiss your swollen lips. “We have plenty of time to train our new little pet.

“Train-?” You started to ask, but Feyre covered your mouth with hers once more, using her fingers to take over for Rhys’s thumb on your clit.

Moans were spilling out of you again whenever your mouth was unoccupied, which wasn’t often. Rhys has figured out just the angle to hit to make you see stars, barely even needing Feyre’s fingers to topple over the edge before Rhys followed you, slotting his hips tightly against yours as he emptied his cum into you.

After he pulled out he kissed you tenderly, fingers pushing as much of his cum back into you as possible as he did so. Your cunt fluttered around the tips of his fingers, so sensitive to every little touch now.

Feyre had disappeared, but came back into the room from the bathroom, a wet wash cloth in hand, and she carefully cleaned off your face.

“I guess we could have waited to do the skincare, hmm?” Feyre asked amusedly, taking in how wrecked you looked already.

“It was just a different kind of facial, darling,” Rhys said, humor in his voice. “Besides, her face is bound to get dirty again before the morning.”

“I suppose that’s true, her mouth is like magic Rhys, I’m sure with a little training she’ll be just as perfect at it as you are,” Feyre said, her thoughts already drifting to riding your face once more.

You were nearly asleep by the time Feyre was done cleaning your face, barely registering the feeling of something being wrapped around your throat and a gentle snick of something latching shut, but you were too tired to think about anything as Feyre and Rhys settled in around you, keeping you secure between their arms.

Lemme know if you guys want a part 2 🫣

[writingstoraes]

part two of charles leclerc/fem!verstappen!reader pls your first one was so good!!!

red vs red 🚥

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!verstappen!reader

type: instagram imagine/social media au

notes: thank u for loving the first, anon! hope u like this one 🤍 and thank u for requesting heheh, also formatting may look weird in ios devices idk this app wont let me fix the errors in bold letters 😭

summary: no peaceful race when there's banter between your boyfriend and your own brother, might as well just join the ruckus they cause!

reading the first part isn't necessary, just provides context! but if you want, read part 1 here!

ynverstappen

liked by lilymhe, charles_leclerc, pierregasly, and 870,445 others

ynverstappen happy race week, everybody! glad to be back in the paddock supporting my favorite driver ever ❤ goodluck, my baby love charles_leclerc! will be waiting for you after quali with lots of kisses and hugs :)

ps. spending quali in ferrari because i am on redbull duty tomorrow 🙏

charles_leclerc Always happy you're by my side, amoúr. Je táime 😘

maxverstappen Will never get used to this 🤮

ynverstappen we've literally been together for 3 years

maxverstappen And by favorite driver ever, you mean me, right?

charles_leclerc Are you the one in the picture? Then no 🙂

scuderiaferrari Red is your color, Y/N! ❤️

redbullracing Absolutely not, we do not think so!

scuderiaferrari Respectfully, no one asked you.

lestappen16 Love how even the team admins are in their own playful feud 😭

pierreluvr someone give y/n a break from dealing with charles and max lmaooowjwjsjsj

maxverstappen Why are you making it sound like supporting me at redbull is a responsibility and not something you want to do? 😔

charles_leclerc Because it's not.

ynverstappen jesus i just want one peaceful race is it so hard to ask for

ynverstappen

liked by maxverstappen, arthurleclerc, isahernaez, and 780,223 others

ynverstappen watching today's race from the redbull garage! wishing my dearest brother the best today, please stop believing the rumors he spreads re: me hating red bull. he is overdramatic. anyway, here's a selfie of max and i at quali yesterday! 🤍

tagged: maxverstappen

charles_leclerc You're not in our garage? Okay that makes me sad then 💔

ynverstappen will still root for you, don't worry 😁

maxverstappen Not under my watch you're not

maxverstappen My own sister wearing a ferrari jacket beside her brother who races for red bull. The betrayal is just so.

charles_leclerc Deserved.

f1fann NOT CHARLES SAYING DESERVED?@?@*@*

redbullracing We love having you here, Y/N 🖤

scuderiaferrari 😒

ynverstappen

liked by pierregasly, redbullracing, scuderiaferrari, and 450,221 others

ynverstappen my boys have done it again! congratulations on the podium, men who continuously pester me at every race weekend ❤️

tagged: maxverstappen & charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc My biggest fan ❤️ Je tàime, baby!

maxverstappen That's literally my sister

charles_leclerc She's literally my girlfriend

maxverstappen #1 supporter! Love you to bits, sister 😄

ferraredbull LESTAPPEN WINS ONCE AGAIN

vers166 y/n should get an award for dealing w charles and max everyday

ynverstappen amen sister 🙏

landonorris Leave them and support me at McLaren!

charles_leclerc ??

maxverstappen No.

----------

tagging: @slytherheign

notes: ig imagines take sooo long 😭 lmk what u guys think!

[robinbuckleysfringe]

paper rings.

a joseph quinn social media au

pairings: joseph quinn x keery!reader

warnings: pronouns for reader vary between she & they, I've tried to keep it as gender neutral as possible even tho I do use female faceclaims

part 1 | part 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*yninstagram has posted*

tagged strangerthings, joekeery, maya_hawke, nattyiceofficial, gatenm123 & charlie.r.heaton

liked by tomblyth, josephquinn, millybobbybrown, rachelzegler and others

yninstagram breaking my insta hiatus to tell you all that we're back for another adventure into the Upside Down 🦇🫶🏻💕

View comments

joekeery why'd you have to crop half my face out like that

> yninstagram to make room for nat's face, obvs

> joekeery so you're saying you love her more than me???

> yninstagram of course, duh 🙄. you should know this by now

maya_hawke reunited bby!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

> yninstagram missed youuuuu 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

madelyncline not you trying to crop joe out the picture 💀

> yninstagram there's already too much joe content on my page, the people need more nat

josephquinn very excited to join the upside down with you all!!

> yninstagram aw joe!! we're so happy to have you join our stranger things family 🫶🏻

madisonbaileybabe the 80s look great on you but I miss our beach vibes 😭🫶🏻

> yninstagram thanks hun!! I miss filming with you 🫶🏻🫶🏻

rudeth not you finally posting

> yninstagram as if you're online more than I am

rachelzegler don't die this season pls

> yninstagram I can't make any promises 😭😭😭

> user Y/N WHAT DOES THIS MEAN????

user obsessed with these bts pics!!!

user ahhhh, so excited for this season!!!

user omg they finally posted!!!

user love of my life. cannot wait to have you back on my screen!!!

☆☆☆

*yninstagram has posted*

tagged rachelzegler, tomblyth & hunterschafer

liked by josephquinn, maya_hawke, joekeery, madisonbaileybabe and others

yninstagram my best friend made a movie 🫶🏻🕊🐍

View comments

rachelzegler it was amazing to have you at the premiere angel 😇💕

> yninstagram love youuuu and everything you do ever 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻💕💕💕

> rachelzegler love youuu bby ❤️

madelyncline you always understand the assignment with the outfit

> madelyncline slay queen 👑😍

> yninstagram thanks bby 🫶🏻💕

joekeery it's criminal that you didn't invite me smh 😤

> yninstagram excuse me?? we're literally going to see it this weekend??

> maya_hawke do our plans not matter to you joe?? :((

josephquinn so this is why you weren't on set this week 👀

> yninstagram oops, did ya miss me? 😂

> josephquinn course not

sadiesink OMG SLAY!! 😍😍😍

user the fit is everything omg!!!

user now y/n is a person who would 100% understand the met gala themes every year

user omg pls tell me you've got a small cameo in the movie!! that would be everything!!

☆☆☆

*yninstagram has posted*

tagged marvel & florencepugh

liked by florencepugh, tomblyth, rudeth, josephquinn and others

yninstagram booked and blessed baby!!! our new series Hawkeye drops on disney+ this december 🏹💜

View comments

yninstagram can't keep a secret to save my life, so if you heard about this beforehand- no you fucking didn't 🫶🏻

*yninstagram pinned this comment*

joekeery proud of you!!!

> yninstagram thank you

> joekeery tho I will say I'm gonna take some credit for your success because I ran all your audition lines with you

> yninstagram 😡🖕🏻

florencepugh dream come true to work with you!! 💜

> yninstagram aww, love you flo!! 💜

tomholland2013 welcome to the MCU y/n x

> yninstagram thanks spoiler man

> tomholland2013 heyy, uncalled for!!

> yninstagram shouldn't have spoiled your movie for me then 😤

> tomholland2013 I'm sorry :((

hichasestokes congrats on being booked and busy. idk how you do it 🐝

> yninstagram i love all these projects, but really I just wanna nap

tomholland2013 wait. THEY GAVE YOU A DOG?? unfair :((

> yninstagram someone sounds jelly lol. sucks to be you I guess 🤷🏻‍♀️

josephquinn not you posting this like you didn't tell me on set 2 days ago. congrats tho, you deserve it :))

> yninstagram thanks joe 🫶🏻

> josephquinn also can you give me my guitar back now? please. I need to practice

> yninstagram you'll have to find me first haha 🤪

> nattyiceofficial they're in their trailer

> charlie.r.heaton just follow the sound of pure chaos and you'll find them 😂

user SHUT. UP

user is this real??

user omg can't believe you're bringing Kate Bishop to life!!! so excited for this!!

☆☆☆

I'm aiming for this little series to have about 6 parts to it, like my tom blyth one. but feel free to comment anything you'd like to read/see in this (or any future) social media aus 🩷

[catsfor2]

hit me, pt 1

word ct.: 2.3k, largely unedited gen: boxer!ellie x med student!reader au!!!, reader is a barista, ellie is mean (she has her reasons), reader is a pretty princess femme because i said so, also ellie says dyke (because i said so)(but not in this chapter lol) warnings: swearing/language, age diff (reader is 19 ellie is 23), drug use (alcohol), eventual smut, angst

a/n: this chapter is a kinda slow start, i mostly just wanted write some establishing dialogue type stuff. i want this to be a medium length ish fic. definitely nsfw in the future. i’m also going to (attempt) to have a more organized pov switching order? idk maybe each part switches between ellie and reader or maybe 1 switch per part? idk. lmk what u think. if you like my writing pls interact on this post or even visit my blog to submit a hc, drabble, or fic idea! requests are open

a/n 2: also, thank you sm to everyone who voted on the poll!!! will totally be doing more of those in the future

part 1.5

You were so drunk. Like, so fucking drunk. Legs wobbling and cheeks flushed, an idiot could notice how intoxicated you were. Hanging off of your friends and approaching strangers. A mess, is what you looked like. You'd learned to restrict yourself over the years, as your friends have informed you of all of the humiliating behaviors you exhibit drunk.

You weren't too worried about anything, though. It's your first night drinking in a while—you're up at university now. Rarely do you get to join Dina and her friends by actually consuming the alcohol—you usually just pass. However, tonight, you wanted to get fucked up. You wanted to forget. Fortunately Dina's a good host, and an even better friend. If anyone was going to be holding your hair back at the end of the night, it would probably be her.

The very first thought you had was holy shit, this is not Dina holding my hair. You shouldn't say 'holding', really. Whoever's hand was in your hair was gripping, hard.

"Shut up, you're fine. Here—drink. No, not sip, drink." A voice directs, bringing a cold cup of water to your mouth.

The first sip is disgusting, the stale tastes of alcohol on your tongue washing down your throat.

Oh Christ, is this one of Dina's friends? How do I not remember her? And her...huge shoulders?

"Seriously—fuckin' drink or I'll make you." The same voice says, meaner and harsher. This person talked to you like you were an animal.

The hand that clutches your hair lets go, and surprisingly gently, rakes over your head a few times to smooth it out. You absentmindedly lean into the touch, too far past the threshold to stop yourself.

The hand moves to your nape as you start to drink, cradling. Her fingers just barely reach around the sides of your neck.

You hesitantly gulp about half the glass of water before the brunette puts it back on the counter.

"Ewwww, is that sink water?" You whine, your face scrunching.

"What, it's not good enough for you? You want Fiji? Fuck is the problem?"

Her tone sobers you up for a moment, locking your eyes to the tiles. You couldn't look at someone while they yelled at you.

Slouching on the floor while she hovers over you, you pull the edges of your dress over your folded legs, only just now feeling the bareness. Your hands stay clutched in the fabric.

"Are you done now?" She says. Rudely, you think. She could've meant 'done' with your vomiting or with your complaining, you weren't quite sure.

"Yeah...I think so. Thank you. Um, really, thank you." You try to say, still feeling stuffy and weighted from all the liquor in your system. She looks at you so intensely you turn your head to escape her gaze.

"Dina asked me to." She takes a damp towel and wipes around your face. "Plus you're so drunk it's a fuckin' liability."

"I'm—m'sorry. Who are you? I've never seen you at one of Dina's...things...before, I don't think."

Her hand stills, wet rag still in it. Her eyes hold yours for a moment, closely and intensely, before darting away again.

“Yeah, you haven’t.”

She rolls up her sleeves before wiping over your collarbones and you spot her tattoo. It takes your gaze up the length of her arms, and you simply let your eyes wander over her figure for as long as you want.

"You should probably throw that dress away. Y'got shit all over it now." She states.

Well.

You look down and see that the moisture on your dress has made it completely see through. Your arm moves to drape across your chest to cover your vibrantly patterned bra and your breasts awkwardly spilling out of it.

"Come on, that's jus mean," you complain. "...ignoring me like that. Please, please, pleeease tell me your name..." Your voice is drunken, high-pitched, and definitely annoying. The woman in front of you grimaces.

"No."

"Why not?" You giggle a bit. "I'll tell you mine."

It was kind of your specialty. Annoying people. Her eyebrows shift downwards. No response.

"Hm, ok. I'll ask Dina." You say, a tiny smile trying to break through your face.

"Do it. See if I give a fuck."

"Woooaahhhh, somebody's got a bee in her bonnet! Who peed in your wheaties?"

"You did. And you're at least sixty-fucking-years-old for even saying that," She tosses the rag behind her and puts her hands on her knees to stand all the way up. "y/n."

Your face lights up an in instant. You scramble to your feet.

"How--how do you know mine? But I can't know yours!?"

"Just how it is. I have to go now." She says, throwing her khaki jacket on her back.

"But--hey, hold on, I don't have a ride home anymore! Everyone's left by now!"

"Not my problem. Call your fucking boyfriend or something." She barks, hands now defensively in her pockets.

A laugh promptly bursts out of you, and you impulsively reach out to grasp her shoulder. Your fingers brush over the collar of her jacket.

"O-kay," you quip, "hold on--cause, I don't have a boyfriend, silly," Her eyes bore into yours as your face draws even nearer. "I'm a lesbian..." You whisper giddily, as if it's something only she gets to know.

Her eyes flit away from you as her mouth purses and flattens, like she's contemplating on how to deal with you. In a moment her pupils are locked with yours again.

"Wow, so fucking special, aren't you, princess?" Her last word is a little less bold, less certain than the rest, like it wasn't entirely intentional. You blush, full body and wholeheartedly.

Princess. Princess?

Your grin widens uncontrollably, and you feel yourself giving in to the hazy pleasure of the alcoholic buzz in your blood. Your hands palm your own thighs as you speak.

"Oh...princess? I like that. I've never—I've never been...called that, before. Before now." You breathe out, eyes fluttery and tired.

She didn't snap at you immediately this time. No, instead, she begins to smile. A lazy, smug, confident smile that burns your stomach.

"You're gonna be real fuckin' embarrassed when you remember this tomorrow. Fuckin'—prissy bitch like you acting all shameless."

“You don’t know who I am,” You mutter, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. "and this? This is not shameless. Do you wanna see shameless? What that actually looks like?" You ask, voice quiet on purpose.

"...No. Fuck no." She denies, that microscopic crack of a smile still evident on her face.

She's very pretty when she smiles. Sooooo pretty.

"You swear way too much, you know that?"

"No, I didn't fucking know that."

Her eyes don't leave yours, like she's waiting for something. Finally, something breaks.

The hand that was resting on the doorknob jiggles it open and she stands in the frame for a moment, just staring. Her compelling eyes force your words out.

"Ok but before you go. One question. Just—just one question.”

"What."

You freeze. What did you want to ask her? You remember it being something about her age.

“Well fucking spit it out. I’m trying to leave.” She urges.

Before you can even recall, another thought appears in your head.

"Okay, okay. Call me princess again? Pleeease? Just once before you go. I don't even want a ride anymore.” You take a glance at the bathroom. “I'll just...sleep… here." You whisper, a little upset thinking about how after this woman leaves, you'll be standing in this bathroom, alone.

"..."

She steps forward, mostly expressionless, pulling up the straps of your dress to cover some cleavage you didn't realize was showing. Your face heats shamefully.

She lets out a sigh.

"Dina has a pull-out in the basement. There's another bathroom down there too if y'need it. Go to bed," Her eyes scan you up and down so quickly you almost miss it. "and finish that glass of water."

With that, the door shuts behind her.

And she's gone.

_____________

You did end up talking to Dina about the person you met last night. Around noon, of course, as you both had slept through the entirety of morning.

"Wait...that's Ellie? Are you fucking serious?!" You clamor, barely comprehending what she’s saying.

The person who helped you out last night knew you, and it also happened to be Ellie. You wanted to hit yourself. Knock yourself out. Be unconscious.

"I thought you knew! She doesn't look that different."

"Dina. I haven't seen her in four years, cut me some slack. And she has like—a whole new energy now. It's....different."

She smirks at you. "...Different?"

"I—yes, different. I know I'm not wrong. I'm not."

The last time you saw Ellie, she was 19 and you were 16. You hadn't come out yet, and hung off of your asshole boyfriend's arm for as long as you could when he was around. Ellie hated the guy. You were insufferable, but Dina must've seen through it enough to befriend you. You’re eternally grateful.

Ellie is a family friend of Dina's, so naturally your paths crossed pretty frequently back then. Until two days before her 20th birthday, when she ran away only with plane tickets and a plan to 'elope' with her girlfriend of three months. They broke up a month later.

You haven't seen her since—excluding last night, of course.

"Oh—oh, fuuuuck. Dina, I know why she was so mean to me last night." Your hands reach up and you drop your face into them.

"She was mean? You didn't say that, the hell?"

"Yes—she was mean, Jesus Dina, keep up. Listen I didn't even recognize her. Like, at all. I kept asking for her fucking name, like, over and over and over again! Oh god, she probably thinks I'm such an asshole." You sulk, rerunning the things you said and did last night in your head.

"Yeah, she totally does."

"No! shut up! You're not helping. How was I supposed to--? She has these arms now, she didn't have those three years ago! And her shoulders? They're so much...wider!" You exclaim, bewildered by this entire situation.

"Hah, ok--"

You cut Dina off.

"And the tattoo, oh my god the tattoo! She's basically unrecognizable!"

"Calm the fuck down, perv. She got a new job three years ago and it just changed her a bit. She does a lot of...physical stuff, now. But she's basically the same, I swear."

"Yeah? Ok. That's...reassuring, I guess..." You say, half truthful. Dina looks at you with something you can't identify. "so...what job."

"Uhhhh—well, not my place to say. You'll...definitely have to ask her. Yourself." Dina winces, trying her best to not let out more info than she should.

"Hm. This is getting...less and less reassuring as you go on. But, thank you Dina."

"So you want her number?" She grins, holding up her phone.

"Are you kidding me." You reject. "I do not text first. You know that."

“You freak, not for that,” Dina shakes her head. “but so you guys can fucking make up and not hate each other, maybe?”

She laughs before getting right on her phone and looking for Ellie's contact.

"I'll just send your number to hers then, jeez."

"No, don't do that either. If Ellie's all upset I couldn't tell who she was, she can be a big girl and tell it to my face. And I don't even care if you tell her I said that. Honestly."

Dina looks up at you. Eyes unmoving and apathetic.

"Both of you are so fucking dramatic. Don't think I'm on your side or her's at this point. I’m completely out of this.”

She throws her phone on the couch before tossing her whole body on it as well. She grabs the remote to turn on the TV.

“Oh shit,” Dina laughs.

“What?”

“Ellie’s gonna fuckin’ flip when she finds out you’re gay now,” Dina says with an acute smile.

I already, accidentally, drunkenly told her. Problem fucking solved, you think.

“Ok? Why’s that?”

“Oh, no reason. Just, pure shock, probably.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” You respond lightly. “…I guess she still pictures the me from highschool, right?”

“Is that your way of asking me if she still hates your ex-boyfriend? Cause yeah, trust me, she does—”

An impeding stream of knocks cut her off. You both whip your heads towards the sound.

The door swiftly opens and in steps Ellie.

Nobody speaks for a few seconds.

“…I have coffee. Thanks for leaving the door unlocked, morons,” Her leg kicks backwards and loudly shuts it. “I hope you get fuckin’ robbed one of these times.”

She walks ahead and hands a hot cup to Dina, and then, to you.

Her thumb rubs along the inside of the carabiner clipped to the loop of her jeans. There’s a smidge of silence before she looks up, only really looking at you.

“I need to show you something.”

And that’s all she says. No context, no elaboration.

“Uh—now?” You question, still in the beat up makeup from last night and hair sticking in all different directions. You couldn’t go out in public like this.

“Uh, yes, now.” She unclips the carabiner and spins it around her pinky. “Let’s go.”

“But what if—what if I have plans?”

“Do you?”

“Well no, but I’d like to at least—”

“Jesus Christ both of you are like this? Here: your hair looks great, your makeup is perfect, your boobs are huge. Can we fucking leave now?” She tells you, completely causing you to forget anything you were saying.

In a moment of panic, you glance at Dina.

Her eyebrows and shoulders only give a limp shrug, as if to say, ‘I don’t know what this is about, but you’re on your own!’

Naturally.

“Yeah, we can leave,” you take a sip of your coffee. “…Ellie.”

The second you say her name, her head is turned to you. Her eyebrows creasing and eyes unwilling to break your gaze. So now you know what the stare was about.

You wonder if your cluelessness last night genuinely hurt her. Made her feel unwanted. Unknown. You felt like shit. You just hope she doesn’t feel similar as you do right now.

She says nothing.

And in that silence, with Ellie cutting in front to get the door for you, you leave.