#the life of a seagull au

[shikariiin]

"when a flower doesn't bloom we blame the flower not the environment that didn't allow it growth"

Hiro, you were a grand engine.

[melouthechalk]

Hey guys, he's seagull now!!

Cool, right??

some au info under the cut <3

In this au every winner have a prize, it can give ability's or protection but its always tiny and looks like it isn't worth it

(i didn't watch Scott's pov in Last life so only three)

If evo member have this prize, they can change their physical form into godlike, but to do it they need a key

For Watcher's its dance, Grian- Waltz with Scar, Pearl- Tapdance (bc of Curses by The Crane Wives)

For Listener's its word, Martyn in this au literally one day old, so no words for him yet

For normal people like Scott it's mostly like amulet, it can save him (like, he takes less damage and etc) and he's immune to godlike power

also Scar is win in 3rd life too, but he didn't get a prize lol

[winwintea]

tetris

PAIRING ↬ gamer!park jisung x fem!reader (feat. zhong chenle)

TAGS ↬ fluff, action, romance, some angst, hidden feelings, 80s au, video game competitions, unrequited love or so he thought, best friend's girlfriend trope, winwin shows up randomly i love you my winsung anon

SUMMARY ↬ living up to the pressures of becoming a famous tetris player might be hard for a guy like park jisung. but it's much more difficult when the girl he’s got a crush on may actually be his best friend's girlfriend.

WORD COUNT ↬ 10.1k words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ happy birthday queen @viasdreams !!! hope you enjoy as much as i had writing this (i suffered) and thank you to @polarisjisung for usual for being my beta reader <33. also i know tetris came out late 80s and was popular during the early 90s too but for aesthetic purposes im saying 80s

PLAYLIST ↬ saturday night - bay city rollers; tetoris - hiiragi magnetite; jessie’s girl - rick springfield; working for the weekend - loverboy; shoot to thrill - ac/dc; don’t play games - martin jensen; i’m still standing - elton john; cherry bomb - the runaways; hold on tight - aespa; one way or another - blondie; i ran - a flock of seagulls; choose your fighter - ava max

THE FIRST TIME PARK JISUNG PLACED HIS HANDS ON AN ARCADE MACHINE, HE WAS HOOKED.

When he felt the rough texture of the joystick, he felt a tremor in his chest. It wasn’t fear, nor excitement, but something in between. The flicker of the screen pulled him into a world he didn’t yet understand but felt desperate to explore.

The arcade around him was alive, buzzing with the electric hum of machines, the crash of digital waves, and the clatter of coins. Yet, in this moment, all the chaos faded into one singular thing: the falling blocks on the screen.

His fingers hovered over the controls, trembling. When they pressed down, the buttons responded with a slight resistance that grounded him, pulled him into the world on the screen. The joystick was smoother than he expected, gliding under his unsure grip. The first piece—a long, yellow bar—fell into place. Then another. And another.

For Jisung, the world seemed to shift with each line he cleared. These weren’t just blocks; they were each a piece of himself, shifting and rearranging to fit into something bigger. Each ping from the machine was a quiet reassurance, telling him that for once, he was doing something right.

The weight of his usual insecurities were being lifted, then replaced by an unfamiliar confidence. His heart raced, not from anxiety but from a kind of joy he didn’t think he was allowed to feel. This machine didn’t care about how shy he was, how awkward his words sounded, or how he tended to shrink away when the world got too loud. All it asked was that he see the shapes, find the patterns, and keep going.

For the first time in his life, he felt like he’d found something. A purpose.

Jisung didn’t think of himself as anything special, and most of the time, neither did anyone else. He was the kind of person who slipped into a room without making a sound, his lanky frame perpetually hunched as if apologizing for taking up space. His dark hair often fell into his eyes, a convenient shield against the world’s attention. At school, he was known only as “that tall, quiet kid.” Teachers liked him for his politeness. Classmates tolerated him for his unobtrusiveness.

His best friend, Chenle, was the exact opposite. The sun to Jisung’s shadow, always shining and dragging Jisung into the light whether he wanted it or not. When Jisung hesitated, Chenle jumped in headfirst, loud and full of laughter. Their friendship didn’t make sense to most people, least of all Jisung, but somehow it worked.

“C’mon, slowpoke!” Chenle called over his shoulder, his voice easily cutting through the noise of the crowded street. “Pixel Haven’s gonna get packed if you don’t move!”

Jisung trailed a few steps behind, his hands stuffed deep into his hoodie pockets. Friday nights at the arcade were a tradition Chenle had started months ago, and Jisung tagged along because… well, because it was Chenle. He didn’t really play the games. Watching Chenle dominate the machines or charm the employees was enough for him.

Pixel Haven came into view, its neon sign glowing pink and blue against the dim evening sky. Inside, the arcade was a sensory overload of flashing lights, cheerful 8-bit melodies, and the unmistakable clink of coins being fed into machines.

Chenle pushed open the door, holding it wide. “Hurry up, man! They got a new game in!”

Jisung shuffled inside, his head immediately dropping down to look at his sneakers. Even though the arcade was bustling with busy teenagers, he felt like every pair of eyes could land on him at any moment. He stuck close to Chenle, who bounded ahead like an excited puppy.

The arcade was Chenle’s kingdom. He knew everyone. He always high-fived the regulars, playfully bantered with his street fighter competitors, and was always trying to introduce someone to Jisung. But Jisung was content being a silent observer, finding a quiet corner to lean against while Chenle made his rounds.

Unfortunately for Jisung, Chenle had other plans.

“Hey, Jisung, check this out!” Chenle pointed to the brand new Tetris machine, it’s screen cycling through vividly colored blocks. “Bet you’d be good at this.”

Jisung blinked at the machine, his lanky frame stiffening as if the suggestion were a spotlight being aimed at him. “Me?”

“Yeah, you.” Before Jisung could protest, Chenle shoved a quarter into his hand and practically dragged him toward the machine. The crowd around it thinned slightly, making space as Chenle announced, “Alright, people, make way for my boy here. Jisung’s about to show you how it’s done.”

Jisung’s ears burned as a few heads turned toward him. He could already feel the weight of their eyes, his anxiety prickling at the edges of his mind. “Chenle, I—”

“Stop overthinking,” Chenle interrupted, patting his shoulder. “Just play. I promise, you’ll love it.”

Jisung stared at the glowing screen. The cheerful music beckoned him, the falling shapes almost hypnotic. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward, sliding the quarter into the slot. The machine chimed, and the first piece appeared at the top of the screen.

Although this was his first time, the controls felt familiar. The buttons responded with a satisfying click to his every touch, the joystick smooth under his palm. He hesitated for a split second before rotating the first piece and sending it down. It clicked into place.

Then another piece came, and another. His fingers moved instinctively, rotating, shifting, dropping. The lines started clearing, one after the other, and the game's upbeat sounds grew more frequent.

The world around him faded, the noise of the arcade blending into a dull hum. His focus sharpened, each piece fitting perfectly into a strategy that seemed to form effortlessly in his mind. Shapes became patterns, and patterns became solutions.

“Holy shit. He’s actually good,” someone murmured behind him.

“Good? Are you kidding? He’s crushing it!” Chenle exclaimed, his voice cutting through the growing excitement.

Jisung didn’t register their words, his eyes fixed on the screen. The pace quickened, the pieces falling faster, but he kept up. His long fingers danced over the controls, rotating pieces with precision and dropping them into place. A four-line clear flashed on the screen—a Tetris—and the small crowd erupted into cheers.

Jisung blinked, momentarily snapping out of his trance. He looked over his shoulder, startled by the group that had formed behind him. Chenle was at the front, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

“Keep going!” Chenle yelled. “You’re on fire!”

A small smile tugged at the corners of Jisung’s lips, the rare feeling of pride warming his chest. He turned back to the game, determined to see how far he could go.

For the next few minutes, Jisung played like he was in a world of his own, the lines stacking and clearing in rapid succession. When the inevitable “Game Over” finally flashed on the screen, a ripple of applause broke out behind him.

Jisung stepped back, his cheeks flushed, his heart racing. Chenle clapped him on the back, his laugh loud and contagious. “What did I tell you? Tetris wiz, right here!”

Jisung glanced at the score on the screen—higher than he’d expected, but the number barely mattered. For the first time, he felt like he belonged, like he’d found something he was actually good at.

And judging by the awed looks from the small crowd, they thought so too.

Jisung didn’t know much about you, other than the obvious. You worked the counter at Pixel Haven most nights, moving between tasks with effortless ease. Always handing out quarters, fixing the occasional glitchy machine, and keeping the arcade running smoothly. And, of course, you were Chenle’s girlfriend. That part was impossible to miss.

Chenle had introduced you once, casually slinging his arm around your shoulders as he bragged about beating the high score on Galaga. Jisung remembered offering a small, awkward wave while you smiled politely, your attention more on Chenle than him. Since then, you’d only been a background presence, someone Jisung saw but never really thought about.

Until tonight.

He’d run out of quarters after his third Tetris run and found himself lingering near the counter, clutching a few crumpled bills in his clammy hands. Chenle was off challenging someone at Street Fighter again, leaving Jisung on his own.

You were busy at the counter, sorting a handful of tokens while chatting with another customer. The neon glow from the sign above cast soft shadows across your face, and for a moment, Jisung hesitated. Asking you for change felt… strange. You weren’t just the person behind the counter. You were Chenle’s girlfriend. That fact alone made this simple interaction feel like crossing some unspoken line.

But he needed quarters, so he shuffled forward, his head down, and placed the bills on the counter.

You looked up, and for the first time, your eyes met his directly. “Oh, hey,” you said, your voice light and friendly. “Need some quarters?”

He froze, the words stuck in his throat. You were smiling. Warmly, like you genuinely wanted to help. Jisung nodded, sliding the bills closer to you.

You took them, your fingers brushing his for the briefest moment as you counted out the quarters. “Here you go,” you said, placing them into his outstretched hand. “Good luck out there.”

That smile. It wasn’t just a gesture. It felt different, even if Jisung knew it probably wasn’t. You were like this with everyone, weren’t you? Friendly, approachable, easygoing. It was why Chenle liked you so much.

But still, Jisung felt something shift inside him. Your smile lingered in his mind as he turned away, clutching the quarters tightly in his fist. His chest tightened, but not with the usual pang of nerves. Instead, it was with something he couldn’t quite name.

It was strange, the way that tiny moment replayed in his head as he walked back to the Tetris machine. He told himself it didn’t mean anything. You were just being nice, just doing your job.

But as the night wore on, Jisung found himself glancing toward the counter more often than he meant to. He tried not to think too much about it, but something small and misshapen had taken root in his chest, fragile but undeniably there.

You were Chenle’s girlfriend. He barely knew you. And yet, your kindness had left a mark he couldn’t ignore.

The arcade quickly became Jisung’s second home. Every chance he got—between school, homework, and the occasional group hangout he reluctantly attended—he found himself back at Pixel Haven.

At first, it was a way to pass the time, a distraction from the things that weighed him down. But soon, Tetris became more than that. The falling blocks weren’t just shapes anymore; they were puzzles waiting to be solved, challenges daring him to do better, to think faster. He didn’t just play the game—he immersed himself in it, memorizing patterns, calculating strategies, and finding a strange sense of peace in the rhythmic clearing of lines.

The change didn’t go unnoticed.

“Dude, you’re, like, a full-blown Tetris addict now,” Chenle teased one night, leaning casually against the machine as Jisung started yet another round. His hands were full of snacks he’d grabbed from the counter, and his grin was as wide as ever. “I should start calling you ‘The Tetris Wizard or ‘TetWiz’ for short”.

Jisung flushed, his long fingers hovering over the controls as the pieces began to fall. “I’m not that good,” he muttered, barely audible over the hum of the arcade.

“Are you kidding me?” Chenle laughed, nearly spilling his soda. “You’re insane at this. Like, next-level insane. You’ve got the whole crowd thing going on, too.”

Jisung paused mid-game, glancing over his shoulder. Sure enough, a few regulars had gathered nearby, casually watching his progress. Their murmured admiration sent a wave of heat to his cheeks.

Chenle clapped him on the back. “See? WizKid status.” He took a swig of his drink, then grinned mischievously. “Hey, you know what? There’s a tournament coming up. Local thing. You should totally enter.”

The words hit Jisung like a truck. No, like someone dropped a T-piece on his head. He fumbled with the joystick, sending a block spiraling into the wrong position. “What? No. No way.”

“Why not?” Chenle’s voice rose in playful disbelief. “You’ve been killing it lately. This is your chance to show everyone how good you are. Plus, think of the bragging rights. I’ll tell everyone I trained you.”

Jisung’s heart pounded, the idea of playing in front of a crowd making his palms sweat. He’d barely gotten used to the small groups that gathered at the arcade. A tournament meant real attention. Real pressure.

“I… I don’t think I can,” he stammered, his gaze fixed on the screen.

Chenle rolled his eyes but didn’t push. “Alright, alright. Baby steps, TetWiz. But think about it, okay? You’d crush it.”

Jisung nodded absently, but the thought lingered long after Chenle wandered off to bother someone else. A tournament? It seemed impossible, unthinkable. Yet, as he continued to play, clearing line after line with growing precision, a small, persistent voice in the back of his mind whispered something different: What if you could?

The flyer for the Pixel Haven Tetris Tournament taunted Jisung from his desk, its bright colors and bold letters shouting promises of prizes, glory, and recognition. He’d stared at it for days, the weight of Chenle’s encouragement and your casual, kind words tipping the scales of his indecision.

“You’d do great,” you’d said just a few nights ago when Chenle joked about Jisung’s reluctance. There wasn’t much to your comment—just a simple smile as you slid quarters across the counter. But it stuck with him, a quiet nudge in the direction he wasn’t sure he could take.

When he finally signed up, his hand trembled so much he nearly misspelled his own name.

The tournament day arrived far too quickly. Pixel Haven was louder than ever, filled with spectators and players buzzing with excitement. The Tetris machine had been moved to the center of the arcade, its screen glowing like a beacon under the dim, colorful lights.

Jisung stood at the edge of the crowd, his heart pounding in his chest. His palms were clammy, his legs stiff, and every sound around him felt amplified—quarters clinking, machines chiming, people shouting.

Chenle found him near the snack counter, looking pale and uneasy. “Hey, TetWiz,” he said, clapping Jisung on the shoulder. “Don’t psych yourself out. You’ve got this.”

Jisung shook his head, barely able to meet Chenle’s gaze. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Of course, you can!” Chenle’s voice was loud, confident, and exactly what Jisung wished he could feel. “You’re the best player here. No one’s even close. Just… pretend it’s like any other Friday night.”

“Except with an even bigger crowd watching,” Jisung muttered under his breath.

At that moment, you appeared, slipping out from behind the counter to join Chenle. Your presence was calm, grounding. “You’ve got this,” you said simply, your eyes meeting Jisung’s.

His stomach twisted. You were Chenle’s girlfriend. 

Off-limits. 

But your words carried a strange weight, one that settled the storm in his chest just enough.

The tournament began. Jisung’s hands trembled as he approached the machine, the controls suddenly feeling unfamiliar under his fingers. The room seemed to close in around him as the first piece appeared on the screen.

The opening rounds blurred together, a mix of adrenaline and fear propelling him forward. Each cleared line earned cheers from the crowd, but Jisung barely registered them. His focus tunneled in on the screen, every move a desperate attempt to keep the pieces from piling too high.

By the time he reached the finals, his nerves were raw, his breaths shallow. Chenle stood nearby, shouting encouragement, and you offered a quiet thumbs-up that somehow cut through the noise.

The final match was intense. His opponent was fast, their moves sharp and deliberate. The pieces fell faster than ever, the music speeding up to a frenetic pace that matched Jisung’s racing heart.

You can do this, he told himself, gripping the joystick tightly. He visualized the patterns, the strategies he’d practiced endlessly. The lines cleared one after another, the Tetris flashes lighting up the screen.

When the final piece fell into place, and the victory chime rang out, the room erupted into cheers. Jisung blinked, his mind struggling to catch up with what had just happened.

“You did it!” Chenle shouted, throwing an arm around Jisung’s shoulders. “First place, TetWiz! I told you!”

Jisung stared at the screen, his name flashing in bold letters at the top of the leaderboard. His hands shook—not with fear, but with something new. Pride.

You approached him, your smile soft and genuine. “Congratulations, Jisung. That was amazing.”

He swallowed hard, unable to find the words to respond. But as the applause continued and the weight of the moment settled in, something shifted inside him. For the first time, he allowed himself to believe that maybe, he was capable of more.

Jisung wasn’t sure when it started. The way his chest tightened whenever you were near, or how your smile lingered in his thoughts. Maybe it was during one of those small, fleeting moments when you actually listened to him. Not the way most people did, with polite nods and half-hearted attention, but really listened.

You never looked bored or impatient when he talked. Never when he stumbled over his words trying to explain a tricky T-spin maneuver or the satisfaction of a perfectly timed Tetris. Instead, you leaned on the counter, your eyes warm and curious, asking questions that made him feel like his passion wasn’t just valid but worth sharing.

And that was the problem.

Because as much as he admired you, as much as his chest filled with warmth during those rare conversations, there was always Chenle. Loud, confident, and so completely your match.

Jisung couldn’t deny it: Chenle made you laugh in a way that lit up the whole room. He’d see you together. Your arm looped through Chenle’s, his jokes drawing out those bright, unrestrained giggles. All of it felt like a sharp, twisting ache in his chest.

He hated the feeling. The guilt. The jealousy.

Chenle was his best friend, the person who dragged him out of his shell, cheered him on, and believed in him when he barely believed in himself. And you—kind, patient, radiant—you were Chenle’s girlfriend. That was the unshakable truth.

So Jisung did the only thing he could think of to cope. He played tetris.

Hours at Pixel Haven turned into entire evenings, his focus narrowing to the Tetris machine like it was his lifeline. The rhythm of the game, the familiar patterns and strategies, became his escape. When the blocks fell into place, clearing line after line, the noise in his head quieted.

He didn’t have to think about the way his heart raced when you smiled at him or the pang of envy when you rested your head on Chenle’s shoulder.

Chenle noticed, of course. “Man, you’re really going hard lately,” he said one night, watching Jisung rack up yet another high score. “Not that I’m complaining. You’re basically a celebrity here now.”

Jisung forced a smile, his hands tightening around the joystick. “Just… trying to get better.”

Chenle didn’t press further, but Jisung could feel his gaze shift, a flicker of concern hidden behind his usual grin.

And then there was you.

Sometimes, you’d wander over to the Tetris machine during a quiet moment at the counter, watching him play with that same patient interest that made his heart ache.

“You’re amazing at this,” you’d say, your voice soft and genuine.

And Jisung would mumble a shy thank you, barely able to meet your gaze. He wondered if you noticed how fast his hands moved on the controls when you were nearby, or how the screen blurred just slightly because his focus wavered.

He told himself it didn’t matter. It couldn’t. You were Chenle’s, and he had no right to feel the way he did.

So he buried it, block by block, line by line, throwing himself deeper into the game as if sheer determination could erase the feelings growing stronger with every interaction.

But no matter how many lines he cleared, the ache in his chest remained.

Chenle wasn’t the type to dwell on things. He lived in the moment, taking life as it came, confident and carefree. But lately, something about Jisung had been bothering him.

It wasn’t just the obsessive way Jisung threw himself into Tetris, though that was part of it. Chenle had always known Jisung to be shy and focused, but lately, he seemed… different. Distracted. Like his thoughts were someplace—or with someone—else.

And then there were the looks.

Chenle didn’t want to read too much into it, but he’d caught Jisung’s gaze more than once when you were around. At first, he brushed it off. Jisung was awkward around everyone—why would this be any different? But the more it happened, the harder it was to ignore.

One night, after another long session at Pixel Haven, Chenle finally decided he couldn’t keep quiet.

Jisung was hunched over the Tetris machine, his face illuminated by the screen’s soft glow. The arcade was quieter than usual, most of the crowd having thinned out as the evening wore on. Chenle approached with his usual grin, though this time, it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Hey, TetWiz,” he said casually, leaning against the side of the machine. “Taking over the world one line at a time?”

Jisung glanced at him, his hands never leaving the controls. “Something like that,” he mumbled.

Chenle studied him for a moment, his grin fading. “You know,” he began, his tone light but laced with something sharper, “you’ve been acting kind of weird lately.”

Jisung’s fingers faltered, and the game over screen flashed before he could recover. He let out a quiet sigh, stepping back from the machine. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Chenle said, crossing his arms, “you’ve been avoiding me, for one. And for another… I’ve noticed the way you look at her.”

Jisung froze, his heart sinking. “What are you talking about?�� he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Chenle raised an eyebrow. “Don’t play dumb, Jisung. You think I haven’t seen it? The way you watch her when you think no one’s looking? How you act all nervous when she’s around? Come on, man. You’re my best friend. If there’s something going on, just tell me.”

Panic surged in Jisung’s chest. He shook his head quickly, his gaze dropping to the floor. “There’s nothing going on,” he said, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I don’t… I don’t feel that way about her.”

Chenle’s eyes narrowed, his usual easy going demeanor slipping away. That wasn’t what he was suspecting. He actually thought you had said something to Jisung that made him uncomfortable. But having feelings for you? Chenle forgot that was even an option. He suddenly felt a surge of jealousy. “Jisung, I’m not stupid. I know you better than anyone.”

“I don’t!” Jisung’s voice rose slightly, the desperation clear. “I—I swear, Chenle. It’s not like that.”

The tension hung heavy between them, the arcade’s neon lights casting sharp shadows across their faces.

Chenle exhaled slowly, his expression softening just a little. “Look, I trust her, okay? I trust you. But if there’s something you’re not telling me… just be honest. Don’t let this mess things up.”

Jisung’s throat tightened, guilt clawing at his insides. He wanted to tell the truth, to admit the feelings he’d tried so hard to bury. But the fear of losing Chenle—his best friend, his biggest supporter—was too much to bear.

“There’s nothing to tell,” he said quietly, his hands clenched at his sides.

Chenle studied him for a long moment, his jaw tightening. Finally, he nodded, though the tension in his posture remained. “Alright. If you say so.”

But as he walked away, leaving Jisung alone by the Tetris machine, the rift between them felt wider than ever.

For the first time in years, Jisung wasn’t sure if Chenle still believed in him—or if he even believed in himself.

The state Tetris championship was a dream Jisung never dared to dream. And now, as his name sat proudly on the qualifying list, it felt more like a nightmare.

The arcade was quiet that night, the usual hum of voices replaced by the occasional beep of a forgotten pinball machine. Jisung sat slumped on a bench near the Tetris machine, the glow of the screen casting long shadows across his face. His hands fidgeted with the crumpled flyer announcing the championships, the bold letters seeming to mock him.

State Champion. The words felt impossibly big, like they belonged to someone else.

The weight of it all—the expectations, the pressure, the growing distance between him and Chenle—pressed down on him like a heavy block he couldn’t clear. His chest felt tight, his thoughts spiraling in an endless loop of self-doubt.

He didn’t even hear you approach.

“You okay?”

Your voice was soft, cutting through the quiet like a gentle melody. Jisung jumped, his head snapping up to see you standing nearby, concern etched across your features.

“I’m fine,” he said quickly, but the tremor in his voice betrayed him.

You didn’t buy it. Instead, you sat down on the bench beside him, leaving just enough space to respect his shyness. You glanced at the flyer in his hands, then back at him.

“It’s a big deal, huh?” you said, your tone light but understanding.

Jisung hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. “It’s too big,” he admitted quietly. “I… I don’t think I can do it.”

The words felt like a confession, raw and vulnerable. He didn’t know why he was telling you this. Maybe it was the way you always seemed to listen without judgment, or the way your presence felt steady and safe.

You tilted your head, your eyes warm. “Why not?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Because… because what if I mess up? What if I let everyone down? Chenle’s been calling me a ‘wizard,’ hyping me up to everyone. People actually watch me now, like I’m supposed to be… someone. But I’m not. I’m just…”

“Jisung,” you finished gently.

He nodded, his throat tight. “Yeah. Just Jisung. And I don’t think just Jisung is good enough for this.”

For a moment, you didn’t say anything. The hum of the arcade filled the silence, a soft, steady rhythm that seemed to match his unsteady breathing.

Then, you leaned forward, your voice quiet but firm. “You know, when I watch you play, it’s not just about the score or the tournament or any of that. It’s the way you light up when you’re in the zone, like nothing else matters. It’s like… you’re in your own world, and it’s incredible to see.”

Jisung blinked, his heart skipping a beat. “I… I don’t know,” he stammered.

“You don’t have to know right now,” you said with a small smile. “But Jisung, this isn’t about being a wizard or a champion or whatever anyone else thinks. It’s about you. Your love for this game, your talent. That’s what matters. Not winning. Just you doing what you love.”

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. Jisung’s heart raced as your words lingered in the air, wrapping around him like a lifeline. He hadn’t expected you to understand him so completely, let alone say the exact thing he needed to hear.

For a brief moment, he forgot about everything else. The tournament, the pressure, even Chenle. All he could focus on was you. The warmth in your voice, the way you looked at him like he was someone worth believing in.

The weight in his chest shifted, and before he knew it, his thoughts spilled over.

“I—” He paused, the words catching in his throat.

You tilted your head, curious but patient, your expression inviting him to continue.

He could feel it, the overwhelming urge to tell you. To say something, anything, about the way he felt—the way you made him feel. How his heart ached and soared all at once whenever you were near.

But then, just as quickly, reality crashed back in.

Chenle. His best friend. Your boyfriend.

Jisung swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. He couldn’t do it. No matter how much his heart screamed at him to say the truth, he couldn’t betray Chenle like that.

“It’s nothing,” he said quickly, his voice barely steady. He forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thanks. For, you know… everything.”

Your smile softened, and you nodded, as if sensing that he wasn’t ready to say more. “Anytime,” you replied, standing up to head back to the counter.

Jisung watched you go, his chest heavy with unspoken words. He let out a shaky breath, his hands clenching the crumpled flyer in his lap.

But he wasn’t the only one watching.

Unbeknownst to either of you, Chenle stood near the doorway, hidden by the dim light and arcade cabinets. He had arrived just moments ago, intending to meet Jisung and hang out like they always did. But instead, he found himself rooted to the spot, watching the two of you.

At first, it didn’t seem like much—just a quiet conversation between friends. But the way Jisung looked at you… it wasn’t hard for Chenle to see what was really going on.

It wasn’t the look of someone simply grateful for support. It was something deeper, more vulnerable. Something Chenle had never seen in Jisung before.

His chest tightened, a mixture of emotions swirling within him. He wasn’t angry—not yet. But there was a pang of something sharp and unfamiliar, like jealousy’s distant cousin.

He trusted you, and he trusted Jisung. But trust didn’t erase what he had just seen.

Chenle stepped back into the shadows, his thoughts racing. He couldn’t shake the image of Jisung’s expression—the way his gaze lingered on you, filled with something Chenle couldn’t quite name but knew wasn’t meant for him.

For the first time, Chenle felt uncertain. About Jisung. About you. About everything.

And as he walked away from the arcade that night, the unspoken tension between the three of you began to grow, pulling tighter with each passing moment.

The auditorium buzzed with energy, the hum of anticipation vibrating through the air as rows of arcade cabinets lined the stage, each boasting the Tetris logo in bright neon. Competitors adjusted their machines, the crowd murmured excitedly, and Jisung stood frozen at the edge of it all, feeling impossibly small.

The state Tetris championship. He was really here.

Jisung’s stomach churned, his nerves nearly overtaking him. He gripped the strap of his backpack, his fingers twitching with a restless energy. His mind wasn’t just crowded with thoughts of the game but with everything else—Chenle, you, the weight of unspoken feelings.

Before he could spiral any further, a voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Hey, you okay?”

Jisung blinked and turned to see a tall, relaxed guy about a few years older standing next to him. The stranger held a can of pop, his messy hair framing a face that somehow managed to look both half-asleep and mildly curious.

“I—uh…” Jisung stammered, caught off guard.

“You look like you’re about to throw up,” the stranger said bluntly, taking a sip of his pop. “Big deal tournament jitters?”

Jisung hesitated, but something about the guy’s laid-back demeanor made him exhale a little. “Yeah, kind of,” he admitted.

“Let me guess,” the stranger said, leaning against a nearby wall. “Scared you’ll lose? Or scared you’ll win and, like, your entire life will change forever?”

“Both,” Jisung muttered.

The stranger raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. “Yeah, fair. Tetris is wild like that.”

Something about his casual tone loosened Jisung’s tongue. Before he knew it, he was rambling.

“It’s not just the game,” he confessed, the words tumbling out. “It’s everything else. My best friend…he’s been supporting me, but I think I’ve messed things up between us. And then there’s this girl…” His voice trailed off, his ears burning.

The stranger tilted his head. “Oh, so it’s love and Tetris. Double whammy.”

Jisung winced. “I don’t know what to do. I like her, but she’s with my best friend, and I feel like the worst person in the world. And now I’m here, and I’m supposed to play like none of this matters, but it does.”

The stranger stared at him for a moment, then sighed, setting down his soda. “Okay, look. I’m not great at advice, but here’s what I’ve got: You’re not gonna fix your love life today. But this tournament? It’s yours. You’ve got one job—play your absolute fucking best. Worry about the rest later.”

Jisung blinked, the simplicity of the advice sinking in. “That’s it?” 

“Yep.” The stranger smirked. “Oh, and maybe stop thinking about her for like, five seconds while you play. Otherwise, you’ll never clear a line.”

Despite himself, Jisung let out a nervous laugh. “Thanks, uh…”

“Sicheng,” the guy said, giving a small wave before walking off with his soda.

Jisung stood there for a moment, the stranger’s words echoing in his head. One job. Play your absolute fucking best.

The announcement of his name jolted him back to reality. Heart pounding, he made his way to the stage, the crowd’s cheers swelling around him.

He spotted Chenle instantly, standing in the front row and waving wildly, his energy uncontainable. “Go, TetWiz!” Chenle yelled, his voice cutting through the noise.

Jisung’s chest tightened. Despite everything, the tension, the doubts, Chenle was still there, cheering him on.

And then he saw you, standing beside Chenle. Your smile was quieter, softer, but it carried the same weight of belief that you’d shown him back at Pixel Haven. Your eyes met his, and you gave a small, encouraging nod.

Jisung took a deep breath, his hands gripping the controls as he sat down.

The countdown began.

Three.

The noise of the crowd faded away.

Two.

His fingers hovered over the buttons, his mind sharpening to a single point of focus.

One.

Play your absolute fucking best.

The game began, the familiar shapes dropping from the top of the screen like old friends. His nervousness melted away as he found his rhythm, the blocks slotting into place with satisfying precision.

The crowd roared as he cleared line after line, the tension building with each level. But Jisung didn’t hear it. For the first time in weeks, his mind was clear, his focus solely on the game.

This wasn’t about Chenle, or you, or even the title. This was about Jisung—the quiet boy who found a spark of something extraordinary in the chaos of falling blocks.

Then the final round began, and the stakes had never felt higher. Jisung sat at the machine, his hands steady but his heart pounding as the screen lit up with the familiar grid. Across from him, his opponent—a seasoned Tetris player with years of experience—cracked their knuckles, exuding a calm confidence that only added to Jisung’s nerves.

The crowd quieted as the final countdown began again.

Three.

Jisung tightened his grip on the joystick.

Two.

His gaze locked on the screen, blocking out everything else.

One.

The pieces started to fall, faster than in any game he’d played before. The early levels felt manageable, his fingers moving on autopilot as he cleared lines with precision. But as the speed increased, so did the tension.

His opponent was good. Better than anyone Jisung had ever faced. They kept pace with him, their screen just as clear, their movements just as calculated. It wasn’t just a game anymore; it was a test of endurance, strategy, and nerves.

The minutes stretched on, each line cleared pushing Jisung further into uncharted territory. His heart raced as he reached the kill screen level—the point where the game’s speed maxed out, and most players couldn’t keep up.

Most players.

Jisung’s vision narrowed, his world shrinking to the grid in front of him. His fingers danced over the controls, rotating and dropping pieces with a precision that felt almost otherworldly. The crowd was a distant roar, his opponent a vague shadow in his peripheral vision.

He wasn’t thinking anymore; he was flowing.

When the final piece dropped into place, clearing a line and bringing his score to a record-breaking high, the machine emitted a triumphant chime.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then, the auditorium erupted.

The crowd leaped to their feet, cheering and clapping, the noise echoing off the walls. Lights flashed, cameras clicked, and Jisung sat there, stunned, as the reality of what he’d just accomplished began to sink in.

He’d won.

Not just the championship, but something deeper. For the first time, Jisung felt the rush of pride, not just for the victory but for the journey that had brought him here.

Chenle’s voice cut through the chaos, louder than anyone else’s. “You did it, Ji! He fucking did it!”

Jisung turned to see his best friend grinning so widely it looked like his face might split in two. Despite the tension between them, Chenle’s joy was pure and infectious.

And then his eyes found you.

You weren’t shouting or jumping like the others, but the pride in your expression was unmistakable. You clapped along with the crowd, your smile warm and genuine as your gaze met his.

Jisung’s chest swelled, the mix of emotions nearly overwhelming. He stood slowly, his legs shaky, and accepted the medal from the tournament official with trembling hands. The announcer declared his name, calling him a prodigy, a champion, but none of it felt as real as the faces in the crowd—Chenle, you, and everyone who had supported him.

As the applause continued, Jisung looked back at the Tetris screen, now frozen on his record-breaking score. For the first time, he saw himself not as “just Jisung,” but as someone capable of achieving something extraordinary.

The crowd had finally begun to disperse, the cheers fading into the background as competitors and spectators alike spilled out into the night. Jisung stayed behind, lingering near the now-quiet Tetris machine. His medal hung heavy around his neck, a tangible reminder that this wasn’t just a dream.

He turned the medal over in his hands, his mind still reeling. He should have been basking in the glow of his victory, but his thoughts kept circling back to you. How your smile had stood out even among the applause. How your quiet presence had kept him grounded.

“Jisung?”

Your voice startled him, and he looked up to see you standing a few feet away, hands tucked into the pockets of your jacket. The faint hum of the arcade machines illuminated your face in soft, flickering light.

“Oh, hey,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You stepped closer, your gaze falling on the medal around his neck. “Congratulations,” you said, your smile warm but understated, as though you understood he wasn’t one for grand celebrations. “You were incredible out there.”

His cheeks flushed, and he looked away, scratching the back of his neck. “Thanks. I… I still can’t believe it.”

“You should,” you replied, your tone gentle but firm. “You worked so hard for this. You deserve it.”

The sincerity in your voice sent a wave of emotion through him, and he found himself meeting your eyes. For a moment, everything else fell away. The noise of the arcade, the lingering spectators, even Chenle.

“It means a lot,” he murmured, “that you were here.”

You smiled softly, stepping even closer. “Of course I was. I wasn’t going to miss this. You’re… special, Jisung. You have something really rare. Not just your talent, but the way you put your heart into everything you do.”

Your words hit him like a gentle but powerful wave, and for the first time, Jisung felt like you saw him, not as Chenle’s shy best friend, not as the Tetris Wizard, but as him.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but the words stuck in his throat. Instead, he reached up and touched the medal lightly, as if offering it to you.

“This… it’s not just mine,” he said quietly. “You helped me get here. You believed in me when I didn’t.”

You shook your head, your smile deepening. “That was all you, Jisung. I just… reminded you what you already knew.”

The air between you shifted, the unspoken feelings thickening the silence. It wasn’t the boisterous, high-energy dynamic you had with Chenle. It was quieter, steadier, like a river carving its way through stone.

You reached out then, your fingers brushing his lightly as you adjusted the medal around his neck. The small, intimate gesture sent his heart racing, but he didn’t pull away.

“You’re going to do even greater things,” you said softly, your voice carrying a certainty that made his chest ache.

For a fleeting moment, Jisung thought about telling you everything. Telling you how much he cared for you, and how much this moment meant to him. But he stopped himself, the memory of Chenle’s unwavering cheers still fresh in his mind.

Instead, he held your gaze and said, “Thanks. For… everything.”

Your smile lingered as you stepped back, leaving a small but undeniable space between you. “You’ve got this, Jisung. Don’t forget that.”

And with that, you turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, the warmth of your touch still buzzing on his skin.

Jisung let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, his hands brushing the medal around his neck. His feelings for you weren’t just a crush. They were something deeper, something that scared and exhilarated him in equal measure.

But for now, he would hold onto the moment, replaying your words in his mind like his favorite song.

As you disappeared into the crowd, Jisung stayed rooted to the spot, the medal’s weight now feeling symbolic of something much heavier. His fingers grazed the cool metal, his thoughts swirling in an uncontrollable storm.

He should have felt elated, on top of the world. And part of him did. But the other part felt like he was standing on the edge of something far scarier than any Tetris grid.

She believes in me. She sees me.

The thought filled him with a quiet joy, but it was quickly followed by a pang of guilt. Chenle had been there too, cheering the loudest, always his most loyal supporter. And Chenle was your boyfriend.

Jisung closed his eyes, trying to silence the war inside him. How could he feel this way about you while knowing it wasn’t his place? He’d spent years being the guy who didn’t take up space, who stayed on the sidelines, who let others shine. Was it selfish to want something or someone so badly now?

“Hey, champ.”

The voice startled Jisung, jerking him out of his spiraling thoughts. He turned to see the familiar figure of Sicheng standing a few feet away.

“I, uh…” Jisung stammered, wiping his palms on his jeans. “Didn’t know you were still here.”

Sicheng shrugged, “Yeah, well, figured I’d stick around and see how the hero handles his post-victory glow. Looks like you’re more ‘existential crisis’ than ‘glow,’ though.”

Jisung blinked, unsure whether to laugh or deny it. “It’s… complicated,” he admitted, his shoulders slumping.

Sicheng nodded as if he understood completely. “Love and Tetris, man. Both are way harder than they look.”

Jisung couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped him, the tension in his chest easing just a little. “I didn’t say it was about that.”

“You didn’t have to.” Sicheng grinned, leaning against a nearby arcade machine. “You’ve got that look. You know, the one that says, ‘I’m hopelessly in love and it’s ruining my life.’”

Jisung groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to someone as wise and experienced as me,” Sicheng said, his tone deadpan.

Jisung peeked at him through his fingers. “What would you do, then? If you were me?”

Sicheng tilted his head thoughtfully, “I’d probably mess it up completely, to be honest. But here’s the thing—you’re not me. You’ve already done the hard part. You put yourself out there tonight. You faced something scary and came out on top. Maybe it’s time you do the same with… other things.”

Jisung frowned, the words sinking in. “But what if it goes wrong? What if I lose what I already have?”

Sicheng shrugged. “Maybe you will. Or maybe you won’t. But if you keep letting fear decide everything, you’re just gonna stay stuck at the start screen forever. And trust me, that’s no way to play.”

Jisung stared at him, the simplicity of his words somehow cutting through the noise in his head. “You’re… surprisingly good at this,” he said, half-joking.

“I have my moments.” Sicheng smirked, pushing himself off the arcade machine. “Anyway, I’m out. Congrats again, champ. And, uh, good luck with… whatever you decide.”

As Sicheng walked off, Jisung found himself standing a little straighter. The stranger’s words had left him with no concrete answers, but maybe that was the point.

Jisung glanced down at the medal one last time before tucking it under his shirt. For now, he’d focus on the present. The victory he’d earned and the path it was opening up.

But deep down, he knew that the harder game was just beginning.

Jisung didn’t see Chenle after the championship that night. 

The victory should have been enough. It was everything he’d worked for, proof that he wasn’t just the quiet kid in the background. But his mind kept circling back to you—your smile, your words, the warmth in your eyes that seemed to see right through his fears.

Why does it feel like this isn’t enough?

Jisung sighed, his heart heavy with the weight of unspoken emotions. He thought about Chenle. The guilt gnawed at him. Chenle had cheered for him louder than anyone, had believed in him when he couldn’t believe in himself. And yet, every time Jisung saw you two together, it felt like a knife twisting in his chest.

He shook his head, trying to push the thoughts away. This isn’t fair to Chenle. He deserves better than this.

But the memory of your touch, the way your voice softened when you spoke to him, was impossible to ignore. It wasn’t just a crush. It was something deeper, something that made him feel seen in a way he never had before.

“Hey, Wiz.”

Jisung jumped at the voice, turning to see Chenle standing behind him. His best friend’s grin was still as bright as ever, but there was something different in his eyes, something quieter, more serious.

“Oh, hey,” Jisung mumbled, trying to mask the whirlwind of emotions on his face. “What’s up?”

Chenle didn’t answer right away. Instead, he gestured toward the exit. “Come on. Let’s talk.”

Jisung’s stomach sank, but he nodded, following Chenle out into the cool night air. The buzz of the arcade faded behind them as they walked a short distance to a nearby bench. Chenle flopped down first, his usual energy replaced by a rare stillness.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Jisung fidgeted with the edge of his medal ribbon, waiting for Chenle to break the silence.

“I saw you,” Chenle finally said, his voice unusually calm.

Jisung froze, his heart lurching in his chest. “Saw me?” he echoed, his voice tight.

Chenle leaned back, his gaze fixed on the starry sky. “You and her. After the tournament.”

Jisung’s throat went dry. “I—Chenle, it’s not what you think—”

Chenle cut him off with a small, tired laugh. “Relax, dude. I’m not mad. And I know you wouldn’t do anything. You’re too much of a pussy to make the first move.” He turned to look at Jisung, his expression softer than Jisung expected. “I mean, yeah, it stings a little. But I’ve been thinking about this for a while.”

Jisung blinked, confused. “Thinking about what?”

Chenle sighed, running a hand through his hair. “About us….me and her. Don’t get me wrong, she’s great. But... I don’t think we’re great together, you know? We’re fun, we laugh a lot, but it’s not... deep.”

Jisung stared at him, struggling to process the words.

“And then I see the way you look at her,” Chenle continued, his voice quieter now. “And the way she looks at you.” He let out another soft laugh. “I’d have to be blind not to notice it.”

“I’m sorry,” Jisung blurted out, his guilt spilling over. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I swear, I tried not to—”

“Hey, stop.” Chenle held up a hand, cutting him off. “I’m not mad, okay? It’s not like you did this on purpose. Feelings are... messy. Trust me, I get it.”

Jisung’s shoulders slumped, the weight of Chenle’s understanding both a relief and a fresh wave of guilt. “So... what does this mean?” he asked hesitantly.

Chenle shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “It means I’m stepping back. You two have something real, Jisung. Something I don’t think I could ever have with her.”

Jisung stared at him, his chest tightening with a mix of emotions. “Are you sure?”

Chenle nodded. “Yeah. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’ll probably be a little salty about it for a while. But at the end of the day, you’re my best friend. I want you to be happy.” He clapped Jisung on the shoulder, his grin returning in full force. “And who knows? Maybe this means I’ll finally have time to beat your high score.”

Jisung let out a breathless laugh, the tension easing slightly. “Thanks, Chenle. For everything.”

Chenle stood, stretching dramatically. “Don’t get all mushy on me now. Just... don’t mess it up, okay? She’s too good for that.”

Jisung nodded, his heart lighter but still full. As Chenle walked away, Jisung sat for a moment longer, staring at the medal in his hands.

Jisung’s heart pounded like it had during the tournament, maybe even harder. He clutched the edges of the medal still hanging around his neck, his thumb running along the engraved letters as if they could grant him the courage he desperately needed.

He found you sitting at the counter in Pixel Haven, a quiet lull settling over the arcade now that the evening rush was over. You were tinkering with a small machine part, your brow furrowed in concentration, and Jisung couldn’t help but feel his chest tighten at the sight.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice barely audible over the hum of the arcade lights.

You looked up, surprised but smiling as soon as you saw him. “Jisung! What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out celebrating your big win?”

He hesitated, shifting on his feet. “I needed to talk to you,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly.

You set the part down, giving him your full attention. “Is everything okay?”

Jisung nodded, but the lump in his throat made it hard to speak. He took a deep breath, the memory of Chenle’s words earlier that night giving him the final push.

“I—there’s something I need to say. And I don’t know if it’s the right time, or if I’m even allowed to feel this way, but I can’t... I can’t keep it in anymore.” He paused, his hands gripping the medal tightly. “I like you. I’ve liked you for a while now. And I know Chenle’s your boyfriend. Well, was—but I had to tell you.”

Your eyes softened, and you stood, closing the space between you. “Jisung…”

“I’m sorry if this is too much,” he continued quickly, his words tumbling over each other. “I just... you mean a lot to me. More than I can explain. And if you don’t feel the same, that’s okay. I just—”

“Jisung.” Your voice was steady but gentle, cutting through his nervous rambling.

He stopped, his breath hitching as you placed a hand on his arm.

“I like you too.”

For a moment, the words didn’t register. He blinked at you, his mind struggling to catch up. “You... you do?”

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “You’re kind, thoughtful, and ridiculously talented. And more than that, you have this quiet strength that I admire so much. I’ve been drawn to you for a while now, even when I didn’t fully realize it.”

Jisung’s cheeks flushed, his heart soaring as your words sank in. “Really?”

“Really,” you said, your smile widening. “But we’ll have to take things slow. This is all new, and I want to make sure we’re both ready.”

Jisung nodded quickly, his nervous energy giving way to a shy grin. “Of course. Slow is good.”

You laughed softly, the sound filling the quiet arcade. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

Jisung’s blush deepened, but for the first time, he didn’t feel the need to hide it.

As the two of you stood there, the arcade lights casting a warm glow, Jisung felt something shift inside him. It wasn’t just the joy of hearing you say you liked him too. He’d taken a risk and won.

And this victory? It felt like the best one yet.

This was it.

The moment he’d worked toward for months.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers, “Park Jisung is on the verge of breaking the world record for highest Tetris score! Can he do it?”

Jisung’s heart thundered in his chest, but it wasn’t fear anymore. It was adrenaline. Focus. Determination.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of you and Chenle in the crowd. You were leaning forward, your hands clasped tightly in anticipation, your eyes shining with pride. Beside you, Chenle was shouting encouragement so loudly it drowned out the rest of the noise.

“Come on, Wizard!” Chenle yelled, his grin so wide it could’ve split his face. “You’ve got this! Show ‘em how it’s done!”

Jisung’s lips twitched into a small smile. Chenle’s voice, your presence, the energy of everyone around him, all pushed him forward.

The final minutes were a blur of movement and sound. The blocks sped up to an almost impossible level, but Jisung’s hands didn’t falter. His brain worked in overdrive, every decision precise and calculated. He could feel the rhythm of the game in his bones.

And then, with one last perfect Tetris, the machine let out a triumphant chime.

The words NEW WORLD RECORD! flashed across the screen, and for a moment, the room seemed to freeze.

Then the crowd erupted. Cheers and applause filled the arcade, the sound almost deafening. Jisung sat back, his hands trembling as he let out a shaky breath. He’d done it.

You were the first to reach him, weaving through the crowd with your face lit up in a beaming smile. “Jisung, you did it!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug.

For a moment, he froze, still overwhelmed by everything, but then he relaxed into the hug, his face flushing as a shy grin spread across his lips. “I... I guess I did.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your hands still on his arms. “No, Jisung. You didn’t just do it. You literally broke a world record. That was fucking incredible.”

Before Jisung could respond, Chenle burst through the crowd, practically tackling him with a clap on the back. “That was insane, dude! You’re officially a legend!”

Jisung laughed softly, his nerves easing as the weight of his friends’ support sank in. “Thanks, Chenle. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Chenle scoffed, his grin turning playful. “Obviously. I mean, who else would’ve dragged your sorry butt to the arcade every week?”

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling too. “And who else would’ve cheered louder than the announcer himself?”

Chenle puffed out his chest dramatically. “It’s called dedication. But seriously, man.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping to something softer. “I’m proud of you. I always knew you had it in you.”

Jisung blinked, his throat tightening with emotion. “Thanks, Chenle. That... that means a lot.”

“And me,” you added, your gaze locking with Jisung’s. “You’ve worked so hard for this, Jisung. You deserve every bit of it.”

Jisung’s face burned, but he managed a small, grateful smile. “I... I couldn’t have done it without you either. Both of you.”

Chenle grinned, clapping Jisung on the back again. “Okay, enough sap. Let’s go celebrate! First round of drinks are on me!”

“Chenle, you’ve never paid for drinks in your life,” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Today’s a special occasion!” Chenle shot back, already heading toward the counter. “Besides, I’ll just borrow some cash from Jisung’s prize money.”

Jisung chuckled, the sound lighter than it had been in months. He looked between you and Chenle, his chest tightening with a strange mix of gratitude and joy.

In this moment, he realized that no matter how far he went. No matter how high he climbed in the Tetris world. He wouldn’t be alone.

He had Chenle, his loud, chaotic best friend who always believed in him, even when he didn’t believe in himself. And he had you, the person who saw him, really saw him, and made him feel like he could be more than just the quiet kid in the background.

For the first time, Jisung felt like he wasn’t just playing to win. He was playing for the people who mattered most.'

Though it stung at first, Chenle proved himself to be the supportive and selfless friend Jisung had always known. It didn’t take long for him to bounce back—literally. A chance meeting at a K-TV bar introduced him to a bubbly, energetic girl named Yizhuo, whose laughter was as infectious as his own. Their chemistry was instant, and soon Chenle was filling the arcade with stories of his new escapades. He still teased Jisung relentlessly, but it was clear he harbored no ill will.

The trio’s bond remained intact, stronger than ever, though their lives began to diverge.

Jisung, now a bona fide legend in the gaming world, found himself swept into a whirlwind of tournaments, sponsorships, and interviews. Though he remained shy and soft-spoken, his quiet charisma and undeniable skill won over fans around the globe. He still made time to visit Pixel Haven, the arcade that had started it all, but his visits were less frequent now, as his journey took him to stages he’d only dreamed of.

You, on the other hand, had left Pixel Haven behind for a new chapter of your own. Inspired by the energy and community of the arcade, you decided to pursue a career in game design. Late nights were now spent sketching out ideas for games that combined strategy and storytelling, with a little bit of heart and soul, something you’d learned was just as important as the mechanics.

Jisung was your biggest cheerleader, always eager to hear about your latest ideas, even if his input sometimes boiled down to, “As long as it’s not as stressful as Tetris.”

Chenle, ever the social butterfly, had shifted his focus to broadcasting. His infectious personality made him a hit on television screens, where he’d commentate on retro games, pull off absurd challenges, and occasionally rope Jisung into appearances. “The TetWiz and Lele Show,” he called it, though Jisung mostly just sat there, looking flustered as Chenle stole the spotlight.

Still, every once in a while, the three of you would reunite at Pixel Haven, now under new management but still holding its nostalgic charm. You’d share snacks, reminisce about the good old days, and maybe even challenge each other to a game or two—though no one dared to take on Jisung in Tetris.

And as Jisung watched you and Chenle laughing over some ridiculous bet, the soft glow of the arcade lights reflecting in your eyes, he realized that life was a lot like Tetris. The pieces didn’t always fall the way you wanted them to, but with patience, a little bit of courage, and the right people by your side, you could make something beautiful out of the chaos.

GAME OVER.

TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @yizhrt @polarisjisung @multifandomania @spacejip @peterm4rker @viasdreams @mango-bear

[love-belle]

well, i'm still in love with you !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their fall-in-love-again era is them soft launching each other while driving their friends wild.

or

for when you're still in love with them and will be for forever. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader

prequel - saw ur mom at the grocery store ·˚ ༘

warnings - language. suggestive jokes (???)

author's note - im so SORRY for not updating life is CRAZY rn like ???? so much has happened like im in LOVE im DONE with SCHOOL i have EXAMS SJSHSJSJKSKS im so sorry i hope u like this i love u all <3

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

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username rip y/n's hater girl era u will be missed 😞☝️

username i know charles is thoroughly enjoying this like

username i will get over a lot of things in life but i will never get over lando and max joining the y/l/n-leclerc vacation simply because they do not trust charles to do the sensible thing

-> yourusername actually they're all dumb

-> maxverstappen1 excuse you

-> yourusername u called grey "dark white"

-> maxverstappen1 I PAID TO KEEP QUIET

-> yourusername blocking out the haters 🫸🙄🫷

username forever entertained by this group they never disappoint

username need me a max and lando to get me a bf or whatever 🙄🙄🙄

username waiting for charles to come here and say some stupid shit before going on with my day !!!!

charles_leclerc i bet u think about me

-> yourusername nah bc no way ferrari can make u THIS delusional what's the cause

-> yourusername i am sorry i was told that i cannot say shit about ferrari clown private limited whatever corporation

-> username please never change

charles_leclerc i will make u pasta !!!!!!!!

-> yourusername no thank u i saw what happened to arthur

-> charles_leclerc THAT WAS NOT MY FAULT THE PASTA WAS NOT GOOD

-> yourusername skill issue

charles_leclerc where r u

-> yourusername why r u typing like that

-> charles_leclerc lando said it's cool

-> yourusername lando thinks birds don't have feet don't believe him

-> landonorris why am i catching strays

username WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE FACT THAT CHARLES LIED TO GET MAX AND LANDO ON VACATION 😭😭

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by carlossainz55, pierregasly, landonorris and 2,167,926 others

charles_leclerc we'd still worship this love

12,628 comments

username NAH WHO IS THIS MAN

username OH ??????

username false god lyrics imma die 🤣🤣🤣

username y/n effect is so real

username PLEASE NOT CHARLES SOFT LAUNCHING HIS EX 😭😭😭

-> username y'all put some respect on my girl's name 😭

-> yourusername i am no one's ex i will sue u for defamation

-> charles_leclerc for legal reasons she's JOKING

-> yourusername how do U know that tf

-> username i missed this

username hshshdjssjdjsjjsajjn;;;;;;;;bwywuuaj;...

username crying this is everything i've prayed for

username no one's mentioning the fact that charles wasn't even supposed to go on the vacation 😭😭😭

-> landonorris he booked his tickets and acted like it was a mistake

-> charles_leclerc you're a mistake

-> username and THAT'S how i know y/n and charles are back together 🤞🤞🤞

username i need a documentary on this vacation u don't GET it

username max and lando we trust u

maxverstappen1 you just pushed your love in water

-> charles_leclerc she told me i looked like tweety from looney toons

-> maxverstappen1 well

username crying i love every second of this

username i need to study this man's brain under a microscope like

-> username his thought process is just so UNIQUE

username i need them to confirm their relationship so i can breathe a sigh of relief thank u

username need me a man who posts like this

yourusername told u taylor swift songs slap

-> charles_leclerc highkey

yourusername i'm the most hilarious person ever idk why ur mad

-> charles_leclerc you called me tweety

-> yourusername hilarious

-> charles_leclerc my lover's got humour

-> yourusername OMGGGGG

yourusername we might just get away with this

-> charles_leclerc i told you, if you commit murder i will NOT be an accomplice

-> yourusername those are lyrics but fuck u too i guess

username i prayed for times like this 🤞🤞

≡;- ꒰ °instagram stories ꒱

charles_leclerc added to their instagram stories

≡;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, carmenmmundt and 1,972,628 others

yourusername well i'm still in love with u 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄 (❤️)

tagged charles_leclerc

comments are disabled for this post

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, pierregasly and 2,126,891 others

charles_leclerc 2 out of 262819 photos where she stole my phone and the one (1) photo with me in it like okaaaaaaaaaay (🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥💯💯💯💯💯💯🥶🥶🥶🥶🥶🥶🥶‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️)

tagged yourusername

12,728 comments

username NAHHH WHO TAUGHT HIM HOW TO TYPE LIKE THAT

username PLEASE OMG

username andddddddd we're 🔙 to having charles have a breakdown every single time y/n (HIS GIRLFRIEND) interacts with him

username god heard my prayers

username why do i have a feeling lando and max went EXTREME

-> yourusername if u call pushing us both off the yacht and not letting us back on until we said "hiiiiii" civilly to each other extreme, then yes. they were EXTREME.

-> charles_leclerc still mad about it. i said "hiiiii 😍😍😍😍🥰🥰🥰🥰😘😘😘😘" and you said "hi 😐😐😐😐."

-> yourusername sorry i was too busy finding ways to poison u then ❤️❤️❤️ im good and better now ❤️❤️❤️ (police and officials LOOK AWAY)

-> username netflix needs to leave dts and document THIS

username someone should write a book on this vacation and it should be max ☝️☝️☝️

username WAR IS OVERRRRR

username they're BACK god bless

username the way i KNOW charles is thanking max and lando on his knees like homeboy would be stuck without them fr

-> danielricciardo excuse you i was the mastermind

-> landonorris you literally did nothing except sit on ft for hours and yell at us.

-> danielricciardo tell that to all those thank you texts (money) charles sent me

-> landonorris YOU TOLD ME NO ONE WILL BE GETTING PAID charles_leclerc

-> charles_leclerc i sent him $1 because heidi asked me to

-> heidiberger_ he threatened to fly out to italy i did everyone a favour

username the y/n effect is coming back with full throttle like yeaaaaaaaaah

username i need a trilogy on this vacation like i need EVERYTHING

username the way i KNOW both of their families just rejoiced like they were going through it 😭😭😭

username everyday i wake up and thank the lord and heavens for daniel ricciardo, max verstappen and lando norris

yourusername i look so good wtfff

-> charles_leclerc yes you do 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

yourusername bébé ( baby )

-> charles_leclerc mon ange ( my angel )

yourusername soulmates 4 sure

-> charles_leclerc 👍

-> username lord i am not your strongest soldier

-> username why is he like this 😭😭😭

yourusername lowk missed taking 26271727 selfies on ur phone

-> charles_leclerc missed seeing your pretty face every time i opened my gallery 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

-> username y/n never leave him again please

-> username my man's TRAUMATISED

[esouliie]

that’s when i could finally breathe.

(wandanat x reader)

summary | you didn’t know having the best surgeons in the world as girlfriends usually meant being the loneliest person.

tags | hurt/comfort, poor mental health, hospital au, wanda is so gentle with reader, fic is inspired by taylor swift!!

Summer had always been your favourite season. The heat of the sun, the taste of ice cream melting on your tongue, and the sensation of warm sand beneath your feet—it was when you felt most alive. Your wardrobe was a testament to this: light dresses, miniskirts, and shorts that flattered your sun-kissed skin. But now, it had become your favourite for a different reason. It was summer when you first moved in with Natasha and Wanda. Their beach house was like that of a dream, larger than anything you’d ever lived in before. It stood tall and proud on the beachfront, its white shell-coloured walls and soft blue accents blending seamlessly with the surrounding environment. Inside, the house was open and airy, sunlight flooding in through the large windows, which offered an unobstructed view of the shimmering ocean. The seagulls' calls echoed in the distance, a constant reminder of the peaceful life you'd found here with your girlfriends.

You remembered how that first week had been pure bliss. The three of you had spent days "christening" each room, the laughter and love you shared echoing off the walls as you tangled in each other’s embrace. During the day, you would lounge together on the beach, Natasha daring you to swim out farther into the ocean while Wanda kept a watchful eye, her smile soft and affectionate. It was everything you’d ever dreamed of—a home filled with love, a future filled with endless possibilities.

But that summer felt like a lifetime ago.

The days passed in a blur, each one blending into the next. You went through the motions, but your mind was elsewhere, lost in a fog you couldn’t seem to shake. Natasha was out more often than not, her career as a cardiologist taking her away for long hours, sometimes even multiple days at a time. Up to becoming the next Head Chief of Surgery, she was a force of nature at work, tirelessly moving from one critical case to the next. Wanda, a neonatalogist, was around more often, but recently her presence was like a ghost in the house—she was always preoccupied, her thoughts wrapped around the delicate lives she fought to save every day. Her latest case being quadruplets with their own unique life threatening disorders that required assistance from doctors all over the hospital. You could see how exhausted she was, her eyes sunken beneath her glasses for when she’s been straining her eyes too much.

And you understood the importance of their work, you really did. They were saving lives, making a difference, and that was something you had always admired about them. But lately, admiration had been replaced with a growing emptiness that gnawed at you. The house felt colder, larger, and the silence between you three had become almost unbearable. Meals together were rare, but even when they did happen, you felt like you were dining alone. You sat at the table, picking at your food, barely tasting it, while Natasha and Wanda exchanged brief conversations about work—medical jargon that you used to find fascinating, but now only served to remind you how far apart you were growing. You wanted to speak, to tell them how you were feeling, but the words never seemed to come. Instead, you would just nod, smile when appropriate, and try to pretend everything was okay.

It wasn’t.

Tonight was supposed to be different, though. It was the night before your semester started again, and they had promised to be home early for dinner, with no work talk. You had spent the afternoon preparing a meal, something simple but special—your way of bringing back a piece of normalcy, a piece of the life you missed so much. As the clock ticked on and the evening slipped away, hope slowly faded. You sat at the dinner table, the food untouched, candles flickering softly. The silence was deafening. No texts, no calls—just empty chairs where Wanda and Natasha were supposed to be. You forced yourself to eat, each bite tasting like ash in your mouth. You kept glancing at the door, hoping to hear the familiar sound of their voices, the comforting click of the door unlocking. But the only sound was the distant crash of waves and the ticking of the clock on the wall.

By the time you realised they weren’t coming, tears were already blurring your vision. You cleaned up in a haze, your movements mechanical. You packed away the uneaten food for them when they come home, put the dishes in the sink, and blew out the candles, the scent of melted vanilla wax mingling with the salt of your tears. You didn’t even bother with dessert, your appetite gone along with the last shred of your hope for the night. This was it. Your relationship slipping away from underneath you. Heading to bed, you felt like a ghost drifting through the house. You crawled under the covers, curling up into yourself, the loneliness a cold weight on your chest. Sleep didn’t come easy, and when it did, it was restless, filled with dreams of empty spaces and silent room.

Weeks passed like this, with you becoming more and more of a shell. Your thoughts spiraled downward, a mixture of poor mental health, the overwhelming work load from school, and the crushing loneliness that came from being around the people you loved who seemed to be slipping away. They didn’t notice. Or maybe they did, but there was always something more pressing—an emergency at the hospital that had them leaving in the middle of movie night, or a case that couldn’t wait as they left you lonely at the dinner table. And so, you sank further into yourself, your once vibrant spirit now dulled by the weight of it all.

One afternoon, Wanda came home early – a rare occurrence that would have made you happy, once. She walked into the house, the usual tension in her shoulders softened by a rare quiet day at the hospital. She called out for you, her voice echoing through the silent rooms, but you didn’t respond. Maybe you were still at school she initially thought, but something tugged at her, an intuition she couldn’t ignore, and she followed it outside.

The sight of you on the beach, sitting alone with your knees pulled to your chest, caught her off guard. The waves lapped at the shore gently, a stark contrast to the storm raging inside you. You didn’t hear her approach; you were too lost in your thoughts, the tears streaming down your face as you sobbed freely, salt stinging as the wind whipped at your skin.

“Hey,” she whispered, kneeling beside you, her voice gentle but laced with concern. You looked up, startled, and quickly wiped your tears, but it was too late. She had already seen them, “why are you crying?”

You tried to find the words, but they were tangled in your throat. Wanda reached out, her hand cradling the back of your neck, before wiping away a stray tear you missed. That simple touch was enough to make you crumble. “I’m sorry,” you choked out, your voice breaking. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Wanda’s eyes softened, her usual composure cracking as she realised just how much she had missed. “Do what, honey?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Everything. All of it. I feel like I’m drowning, and I don’t know how to stop it. I know you and Nat are busy, I understand and I’m so proud of you both, but my head won’t stop telling me all these things, that you don’t love me anymore, and I’ve been so lonely, Wands- I miss you,” you hiccupped, “and Natty.”

You met her gaze finally, noticing the gloss of her own eyes as she holds back her tears. Her heart broke at your words, guilt washing over her like a tidal wave. She had been so consumed by her work, by the endless demands of her job, that she hadn’t seen what was happening right in front of her. She pulled you into her arms, holding you tightly as if trying to piece you back together.

“My baby,” she whispered into your hair, trembling as she kept her emotions at bay, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t notice you were hurting. I love you. So much.”

You wanted to tell her it was okay, that you understood, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you just cried harder, the weight of all the loneliness, all the pain, finally spilling out. You clung to her, the warmth of her embrace a stark contrast to the cold emptiness you had been feeling for so long. “It’s not your fault,” you choked out, “I hid it from you guys because I didn’t want to be a burden. You both have so much going on, I didn’t want to add to that.”

Wanda shook her head, pulling back enough to look you in the eyes, delicate hands cupping your cheeks. “No, sweetheart, you’re never a burden. We’ve been so focused on work that we’ve neglected the most important thing to us —you. I promise you, this stops now, okay?”

You went to reply, a rebuttal already ready at the edge of your tongue, when Wanda’s phone rang. The sound cut through the moment like a knife, and she sighed, pressing a long kiss to your forehead, before pulling away out to check who was calling. Her eyes softened as she looked at the screen, showing you a picture of the three of you together. It was one of your favorites—a candid shot of you asleep with your head on Wanda’s lap, her fingers playing with your hair, while Natasha grinned at the camera, her arm wrapped around the both of you. “It’s Nat,” Wanda said, her voice gentle. She stood up, keeping one hand on your shoulder. “Stay right here, baby. I’m just gonna tell her she needs to come home, okay?”

You nodded, watching as she stepped away to take the call, her voice low and urgent. You could hear bits and pieces of her conversation—something about coming home right now, about how you needed them both. It made your heart ache, but in a different way this time. Wanda returned a few moments later, her expression determined. “Nat’s on her way,” she said, taking your hand and pulling you up to stand with her. “Let’s go inside, alright? We’ll wait for her together.” You let her lead you back inside, the warmth of her hand in yours a small comfort. As you sat down on the couch, Wanda wrapped an arm around you, holding you close. The two of you sat in silence, the only sound the distant crash of the waves and your favourite tv show low in the background.

That evening, when Natasha returned, the three of you sat together. She listened intently as you and Wanda explained what had been happening, her eyes filled with regret as she realised how distant she had become. How she could’ve been a better girlfriend to you. She reached out, taking both your hand and Wanda’s, her grip firm and reassuring. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, my love.” Natasha said, her voice raw and broken, “I promise to do better by you. I love you. We’ll figure this out together. I don’t want you to ever feel like you’re alone in this. We’re a team, remember?” Wanda squeezed your hand, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek, before she said, “We’ll always be a team.”

And they meant it. The following weeks, they took time off from work, dedicating their days to you, to each other. It wasn’t a magic fix, the path to healing rarely is, but it was a start. You spent your days together, and when you weren’t in classes, you were rediscovering the small joys that had once been the foundation of your relationship. Walks on the beach, movie nights curled up on the couch, late-night talks that stretched into the early hours of the morning, slow kisses under the stars as you undressed each other, declaring your love to one another once again.

At night, you lay in bed between them, their arms wrapped around you, the weight on your chest finally began to lift, the crushing pressure easing as you drifted off. The path ahead was still uncertain; you knew there would be hard days, especially as they were soon to return to work, but for the first time in weeks, you felt like you could breathe again. And upon your girlfriend’s chest, you realised you didn’t have to carry the burden alone, because they were here with you.

You weren’t alone anymore, and that made all the difference.

[little-fae-hero]

Linked Universe, Hero of the Winds

My headcanons/aus

Art by Atro Avis

Colored Version.

Long talk/ideas under the cut. Warning for general game violence and kidnapping. (Note: I may add stuff overtime but I will never delete from the list).

Twilight. Sky. Legend. Hyrule. Four. Time. War. Wild.

Wind (Wind Waker/Phantom hourglass). Other Nicknames: The Sailor, Pirate, The baby (hates this), Guppy (hates this as well), Island boy, Ocean child.

Hero’s Title: Hero of the Great Sea, Hero of the Winds, Hero of the Great Sea, Holder of the Wind Waker

God that has claim over his soul: Hylia (for the wisdom to actually find the pieces of the triforce)

Part of First’s soul: Childish Wonder (smallest piece).

History:

Link lived on an island with his sister and grandmother, and had a peaceful life like everyone in the great sea. He was given a green tunic when he turned 12, much to his annoyance. However his sister Aryll was kidnapped on his birthday, taken by a bird monster and he joins up with a pirate by the name of Tetra to get her back.

Through trying to get his sister back he learns that the Gerudo King Ganondorf is back, hunting for the Triforce, the Red king of the seas asks Link to take up the mantle of the hero. To which the young boy does, to make the seas safe for his family. He later learns the man’s reason, a place for his people; however he still tries to kill the hero and the princess. They actually succeed and plan to start another hyrule.

However This plan gets put on the back burner when Tetra and Link run across a ghost ship and Tetra goes missing, causing Link to start another adventure. Link get’s the phantom hourglass and a fairy and they go through the palace of the ocean king. He saved the great seas from the parasite known as Bellum and was finally able to go back home.

Death: Unknown…

Interesting Stuff/Headcanons:

has a sailor mouth from living around pirates. Others don’t let him swear (like grandma) but Time does.

The best thing to heal him is his grandmother’s soup. The chain learns how to cook it when they visit the Great Sea.

Link has a good sense of direction, to the point of it being scary. He doesn’t even need a map; it's like the wind tells him where to go.

Wind deals with a lot of self-doubt, he wasn’t born with the triforce of Courage, he had to find it and put it together unlike Tetra. So, he often feels like a fake.

He looks up to Time, since he was the hero of Time who once defeated Ganondorf, plus he also doesn’t treat Wind like he will break at any moment.

The others have a habit of jumping in to protect him, mainly because he reminds many of them of themselves of when they first started their adventures.

Wind actually prefers sandals since he lives on an island, but that’s not considered ‘proper shoes for combat’.

Wind cannot control his expression, whether in sneaking around or in combat, he cannot keep a poker face, which of course makes him terrible at keeping secrets.

Link has no concept of ‘personal items’ he grew up sharing stuff with his sister and then a pirate ship, everything is fair game, unless said otherwise or you're wearing it.

Anything he finds is worn as jewelry until he can get back home, to which the treasure is given to Aryll and Grandma.

He is actually really good with seagulls, I mean it’s not like his sister Aryll, but he can easily feed them without them getting startled.

He’s a great swimmer; however, his legs can get tired from a lot of walking, especially rocky paths, he doesn’t tell the group this.

No concept of ‘oh that’s dangerous’ will happily be shot out of a canon for the laughs.

Wind doesn’t have any piercing even though he wants to, any jewelry is limited to necklaces and ear wraps. 

Letters are a big comfort to Wind, as sometimes he panics that Aryll is missing, or grandma is sick again. The letters remind him that everything is fine.

Wind will fall into his big brother persona; he immediately will fuss others despite bringing the youngest of the group.

Besides looking up to Time, Wind also looks up to War, he doesn’t know why.

Koroks seems to really like Wind, he considered them his friends, Time doesn’t like the Koroks staying around or Wind going after them.

He cannot stand the cold because of growing up on an island. He’s in multiple layers or stealing others' scarves to keep warm.

Wind loves music, especially sea shanties, you will not know peace if one gets stuck in his head.

He knows how to shoot guns; he has one from Tetra and knows how to make ammo for it. It’s just very, very loud and he doesn’t like it.

He is slowly getting use to them and even started to build interesting items of his own.

He will correct anyone if they refer to Tetra as Zelda, since she prefers the name Tetra.

Wind loves fruit sense you can only really get them on islands, they are his favorite thing to snack on.

Wind sometimes realizes how stupid enemies can be, meaning he will sneak around them when others are planning something.

He is the most likely to do his own thing in battle and give the others heart attacks in the process.

The soul piece of the hero’s spirit is the smallest in Wind, it was the childlike wonder of the god, something the god couldn’t have a lot of considering his first life.

Because of this Wind doesn’t get the full burning in his chest that others might. But he does get the call to adventure.

[cottonlemonade]

Epitome Of Stealth

word count: 867 || avg. reading time: 4 mins.

pairing: University AU!Tendou x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff, friends to lovers

warnings: like one mildly suggestive line if you squint

request: fluffy, skipping lectures with crush Tendou

“You are a terrible influence.” Your supposed scolding lost considerably in weight when it was accompanied by barely suppressed giggling as Tendou pulled you through the corridor past many closed doors, behind one of which you should have been absorbing a whole bunch of knowledge right now.

But your friend seemed completely unbothered, even waved it off like it was the biggest compliment someone had paid him all week.

“You’re just saying that!”

It hadn’t taken a whole lot of persuasion to get you to skip the lecture. In fact, none at all as soon as the word pizza became involved.

“Maybe we should go back.”, you said, becoming suddenly unsure of your plans.

Tendou stopped, not letting go of your hand though, “But the pizza.”

“The pizza will still be there after the lecture.”

Thinking about this for a moment he then leaned in, his face only a pepperoni’s width from yours.

“Come on, the professor is always late. He won’t even notice we’re not there because he never has time to call for attendance. Plus-“, lowering his voice he said, rather seductively, “think about how much better it will taste with the spice of knowing you’re doing something you’re not supposed to. Imagine the long strings of hot cheese and the crust, crispy on the outside, fluffy and stuffed full of even more cheese on the inside.”

You started to blush but more so from the look in his eyes than anything else.

You gulped, then took the lead and he followed suit, obviously having the time of his life.

In the second long hallway, chattering voices could be heard up ahead and with the stealth and finesse of a seagull on a French fry heist, he pulled you behind a large pillar, raising a long slender finger to his lips. When you stifled a laugh he regarded you with a frown as if you really didn‘t take this situation as seriously as you should and moved his finger from his lips to yours. The touch sent tingles through your body and you became very aware of his cologne. You hoped he would be too wrapped up in his make-belief to notice the flush of your cheeks.

The small group of students walked passed, seemingly questioning the sanity of the very obvious, very visible couple.

Only when they rounded the corner did he let you go, leaving the warm print of his touch behind.

“I think we‘re safe.“, he said after pulling out his phone to use the camera to spy around the pillar if the coast was clear.

“You know, I think they didn‘t care. Or knew that we were supposed to be in a lecture right now.“

“You never know, little plum.“, he gave you a look of lofty confidence, “You never know where the foe has their eyes.“

“Oh, of course. You’re so right.“ Shaking your head, you followed him further down the corridor.

The front door came finally into view and you were just mentally crossing your fingers that he wouldn‘t let go of your hand once you made it outside. Then he stopped in his tracks and you bumped into him.

“What?“

You looked ahead to find whatever he spotted, then saw the professor whose lecture you were just skipping walking your way, head lowered to his phone.

With your heart pounding in your chest you yanked Tendou out of the way towards a door in an alcove that you thought would lead to a bathroom but it was a utility closet - and it was locked. For a split second, you debated whether to just stand still and hope he wouldn‘t notice you or create a diversion. And so you grabbed Tendou‘s collar and in one swift move pulled him down for a kiss.

Catching on quickly, his hands immediately came up to hold your waist. But they didn‘t stay there. Apparently not knowing where to keep them, his palms roamed over your back and up to your neck to hold you as close as he could. He sucked in a deep breath through his nose, letting you take the lead in the kiss but gently squeezing your soft and squishy body all over as if he had to make sure you were really there. The preoccupied professor had hurried past long ago but you were still kissing. When you finally broke apart, Tendou leaned back into the corner you had him pushed up against, panting slightly. His eyes searched yours as he ran the tip of his tongue experimentally over his reddened lips.

“You think he saw us?“, you asked unnecessarily. You didn‘t know what else to say. The kiss had muddled your mind.

He shook his head.

“You okay?“

He nodded.

“So… uhm… pizza?“

He nodded again, his eyes flicking from yours down to your lips and up again, swallowing hard and trying to redirect his very determined blood flow back to his brain with thoughts of all the communal showers in high school.

Feeling silly if you wouldn‘t, you took his hand again to make your way out the building. He didn’t let go of you until he had to when the food arrived at your table.

a/n: request for @haikyu-mp4

I think this is the fastest I’ve ever written a request for you xD thank you for the prompt! hope you enjoy 🌟

[borathae]

↳ Index [Day 02 - Food Play]

Pairing: Good Boy!Tae + Soft Dom!Reader

Genre: married life!AU, Royalty!AU, Fantasy!AU

Kinks: public sex on a secluded beach, nudity, food play, nipple licking, blowjob, cunnilingus, face riding, orgasm control, cowgirl position, creampie, aftercare

Wordcount: 4.4k

a/n: i sadly lost the ask, but someone once gave me the idea of OC introducing Tae to chocolate and out of it, this romantic and horny smut was born 💛

The first time Taehyung tasted chocolate was during one of the many royal banquettes. It was a - what you called - chocolate fountain and before that, Taehyung had never seen such wonders. Strong candles melted the sweet delicacy until it was liquid and air pressure carried it up along a golden pipe until it trickled out of its opening to run down three convex plates, creating a fountain of chocolate. Truly Taehyung couldn’t believe his eyes at first glance and once he tasted it by being fed a chocolate tipped orange, he spent all evening by the fountain, stuffing his belly with sweet food. He left the banquette with an immense stomach ache, but that couldn’t cease his liking for chocolate. It was so very sweet and melted on one’s tongue and Taehyung loved every bite of it.

You often give him presents which are related to chocolate. These presents always brighten his mood.

Today’s mood is rather jolly as well. You are free from royal duties and therefore took Taehyung to the beach. It was a small, secluded bay which could only be accessed by natural stairs from the castle grounds. The high cliff was the backdrop and dark, rough rocks caught the ocean on each side of the sand bay. It was the only beach on this side of the cliff. The beach open to the public was south of the castle blending into the lively town. When the winds blew just right, the royal family is able to hear the laughter and chatter from the big beach.

Today no wind blows and the ocean sends calm waves. The sound of them greeting the shore mixes with the endless calls of the seagulls high in the clouds and cliffs.

You and Taehyung are sharing a thick and comfortable blanket, watching the waves dance on the sand. You are wearing but a thin robe and hat for coverage from the sun. Taehyung matches with you, safe for the colour of his hat. They were both made of golden straw, but he painted flowers on his hat brim. You and he left any and all jewellery at the castle, not wanting to soil them or worse, lose them in the ocean. Only your golden wedding bands on your ring fingers you kept. That is a piece neither would dare to take off. It symbolises your union, as much as it symbolises that your souls were one. There is no sweeter thing to be. 

You lean over to Taehyung, placing a gentle kiss onto his clothed shoulder. He shakes out of his trance, craning his neck to kiss your lips. Your hats are in the way and you end up smiling into the kiss at the funny way you knock them off your heads. 

Once the kiss was successfully stolen, you sit back again and fix your hat. Taehyung does the same, keeping his fond eyes on you. You meet his gaze, heart fluttering when he smiles at you. His raven hair is open today, falling along his back and shoulders. The sunlight brings out the golden and hazel shades in his strands. He is truly so beautiful.

“I enjoy this day very much”, he says. 

“Yes, I share your feelings. You look so very beautiful in the light.”

“I do? But.” He touches his own cheek. “My face is aflame in heat.”

“It makes you look very dashing.”

“Oh. Thank you, my princess”, he speaks bashfully, lowering his eyes. 

“Can I interest you in taking a swim with me? I feel aflame as well and would fancy the cold water.”

“Yes, I would join you.” 

“Perfect. Go ahead, I shall follow.”

Taehyung watches you curiously as you crawl to the food basket you store in the shadow of the cliffs. He takes off his hat and rope, enjoying the unfiltered warmth on his nude body. 

“What is it that you are doing?” he asks you. 

“I am preparing something for later. It will take a while, so I want to do it before the swim. You do not have to wait for me.”

“I shall at the very least walk to the water then.”

“Yes, very well.”

Taehyung can’t figure out what you are doing, wading in the lower waters from left to right. You soon join his side, nude as well and with your hand naturally slipping into his’.

“Oh, your palm is so damp in sweat”, you conclude with a fond giggle.

‘I know. Yours as well”, Taehyung agrees with a scrunch of his nose.

“The water will be a welcome help”, you say and guide him into the deeper parts. 

The day is so hot and sunny that the coldness of the water feels welcome on the body. On other days, you and Taehyung – mostly Taehyung – would whine about the temperature, but today it is dearly needed. Within seconds, you are submerged completely, swimming side by side. 

It was you who taught Taehyung how to swim. It was at this very beach during a sunny and warm day. Taehyung didn’t need to possess the skill before he married you. He came from an island queendom, but the waters were of constant icy nature. Even in summer, the temperatures didn’t go above three degrees celsius. Swimming was never an option in his homeland and therefore Taehyung never learned it. Until he met you and you spent weeks teaching him the skill. At first he didn’t dare to go deeper than waist depth in fear of drowning. Later he needed to be close to you in case he needed to hold onto you for safety. But soon he swam beside you all on his own and not long after, he ran into the waters without you to swim as if he had swam his whole life. 

You stay in the waters until you both feel properly cooled off. You leave it together and walk back to the blanket. Taehyung picks up your towel and wraps you in it, hugging you against his chest so you were sharing it. You laugh, looking at him with fond eyes. 

“If we stay so very close, all the cooling off we did will be for nought.”

“I can help you dry off quicker this way.”

“Of course”, you nudge his chest, “you merely wanted to steal a hug”, you say, stepping away with your towel now wrapped around you.

“Is it that scandalous of me to do?” he asks, picking up his own towel to dry off.

You smile, shaking your head. 

“Of course not.”

You sit down, ridding yourself of the towel and rolling onto your stomach to inspect what you laid out before the swim. 

Taehyung decides to stay nude as well, lying down beside you with his arm draped over your waist. His skin is still cool, the weight of his arm feels intimate and pleasantly familiar. 

“May I finally know what you did?” he asks. 

You open the box of chocolates, eliciting a shocked gasp from him. 

“It is melted.”

“I know, how perfect.”

“What? But. I don’t seem to understand.”

“You see”, you begin and quickly get some oranges from the basket, “you do not need fire to melt chocolate. The sun on such a hot day will do the same to it and the good thing is that it will never reach dangerous temperatures.” 

You pick up a dollop of chocolate and wipe it on his nose. 

“Oh”, he laughs, wiping the chocolate to lick it from his fingers, “I wasn’t ready.”

“Oh, I know. You looked very adorable with the chocolate on your nose.” 

“Yes? Well, I can do the same” he says and picks up chocolate to wipe it on your nose. 

You laugh wholeheartedly, cleaning it off while Taehyung laughs with you. 

You keep gazing at each other once the laughter dies down. His arm around you moves up and down in a loving caress, his fingertips trace your side. It tingles so very nicely. Especially when they dare to brush over the side of your breast. 

“Your eyes are so beautiful”, Taehyung whispers, “each time I see them in the light of the sun, I am reminded of the depth of them and their vast palette of the most beautiful colours.”

You scoot closer to him, kissing him chastely. 

“You speak in poetry, my darling. I love this about you so very much.”

Taehyung leans his forehead against your head, smiling. He is very happy to be with you and to be your husband. He couldn’t have asked for a better marriage. Sometimes he thinks back at how nervous he was on his wedding night. How he was so very scared that it would hurt and that you wouldn’t care about his well being. He thinks back at how patient you were with him, how you made him relax and feel so good that he released not once but twice because of you. You were so gentle with him despite having no knowledge of his person and Taehyung felt enchanted by you ever since. The tenderness with which you treat him only grew once you developed feelings for him. Taehyung feels insanely lucky these days, thanking the goddesses for giving him this life each morning in grateful prayer. He also prays for your health and the health of his best friend Hoseok, last he prays for the health of his people and your people. 

You pull him back from his journey down memory lane by tracing his spine with your fingertips. He shivers at the touch, looking at you. 

Your eyes are filled with love for him.

You sit up and take him by his shoulders to roll him to his back. Taehyung lets you, just as he lets you straddle his lap and pin his hands above his head. His dark hair lays messily on the blanket, your body shields the sun from his face perfectly. Your fingers are so tightly interwoven. Taehyung feels breathless. Your weight is very pleasurably good on his thighs, your warmth seeps into his skin. Your breasts are so beautiful in the sunlight, your curves look so soft and your skin so silken.

“I sometimes think that meeting you is nothing but a beautiful dream. I am so lucky to have you, my darling prince of ice”, you tell him.

“No, I am lucky. I know that as a man it isn’t my right to be picky with my marriage, but I still feared it. You are the best thing that happened to me. You are what I always dreamed of.” 

You smile and lean down. Your breasts melt into his chest, exciting him a little. Taehyung sighs and lifts his head to meet your kiss sooner. 

It feels incredibly good to both of you. It is so nice to be together and to share your connection in such ways. The place only adds to the tingles of bliss you both experience. 

You and Taehyung come to this beach alone. No guards, no servants, no other family or friends. You tell your most trusted queen’s guard to wait by the entrance of the stairs and to deny access to anyone wanting to come down. She does a very good job at her duties, allowing you and Taehyung complete togetherness. 

You use these moments not only to be completely bare, but also to connect deeper with each other. 

Yes, you and Taehyung have been intimate on this beach very often. You tasted each other, felt each other, melted into each other and you even helped him to utter bliss with the help of what is called a cock belt. Your trusted sex witch made it for you. It allows you to tie a moulded pretend cock to yourself and to use it to fill Taehyung’s hole with the help of a very slippery cream. You both loved it a lot, although you sometimes had a feeling that Taehyung loved it a little bit more than you. 

This beach has seen it all however and judging by the way your breaths were raised once the kiss breaks, it might see something new today.

“Taehyung, I…”

“I know”, he breathes, squeezing your hands, “me too.”

“You too?” 

He nods his head.

“Today is”, he begins, “it is a very good day for me.”

“I share your feelings, but I also damn my feelings.”

“Why?” 

“Because if I sink you into me, our connection is as good as over. I know we won’t last long.”

He laughs, agreeing with you by biting your lower lip gently. You let him, teasing him back with a gnaw to his upper lip. He purrs, writhing under you.

“I have an idea.” 

“Show me”, he says. 

You sit up and let go of his hands. He still keeps them above his head however, gazing up at you. You sink your finger deep into the melted chocolate. Then you pick up your breast one by one to cover your nipples with the chocolate. The rest you lick off your finger. 

Taehyung gawks with an agape mouth, finding it difficult to breath. Your nipples already looked so tempting and now you made them look like this. Taehyung won’t ever get used to your ideas nor the maddening effects they have on him. 

“Taste them”, you encourage him with an arch of your back. 

Taehyung sits up instantly, cradling your breasts to guide them to his eager mouth. He moans, eyes closed and tongue eagerly licking your right nipple. 

You sigh and roll your head back, scratching his scalp slowly. His mouth is wet and very warm, his tongue is soft and his lips softer. He is licking you and sucking on your nipple, sending comfortable pleasure through your veins. 

Taehyung breaks away with a deep moan, kissing his way to your other nipple. He cleans it with more hunger, kneading your flesh with eager hands. 

“This feels so good”, you tell him, grinding on his thigh. It spreads your nectar on his skin and feels so very good to you. Warm and ever growing. You might not have the strength to stop on your own, for the feeling was rather addicting.

“You taste so good”, he mumbles and sucks on your nipple with such eagerness that it feels fiery. 

You flinch, moaning loudly. Loud enough to make Taehyung raise his head in alarm.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks, holding you under your breasts. His hands are so big and touch you with such care. 

“On the contrary, this excited me way too much.”

“Oh. Oh my princess”, he sighs, wanting to kiss you but you push him down. 

He falls, hands naturally falling above his head. 

“It is my turn to taste.”

Taehyung is panting for air as he waits for you to cover his nipples with chocolate. He must admit that he has hardened completely by now, aching to be inside you. 

You rub the chocolate on his perky nipples, making him sigh. It feels good, but most definitely not as good as your mouth will feel like. You lift your finger to his lips. 

Taehyung takes it inside without hesitation, sucking on it as his devoted eyes are on your face.

“Is it sweet?” 

He nods, mewling around your digit. 

“You look so beautiful with my finger inside you.”

The ambiguity of your words are known to both and makes Taehyung mewl louder. You need to use your fingers on his hole when you prepare him for the cock belt. Your words bring the memory of how good it feels to the very surface of his mind. How much he craves to be loved by you.

You pull your finger free, denying him of more. You make up for it however by kissing a path from his neck to his right nipple. 

Taehyung closes his eyes, arching his back when he feels your first lick. Your mouth is so wet and warm. Taehyung feels breathless. 

“So sweet. Oh, you are so sweet”, you lull, kissing a path to his other nipple to clean it just as thoroughly. 

Taehyung sighs your name, shivering under you. To be licked is so arousing to him. You end the tasting by sucking a purple mark to his sternum. He accepts it with gratitude and a racing heart.

You smile down at him, caressing his chest. He is out of breath, face flushed and cock leaking. 

You pick up the box of melted chocolate and tilt it over his sternum. The chocolate trickles out of it slowly, allowing you to draw a steady line down to his cock. 

“Oh heavens, oh”, Taehyung lets out under his breath, skin feeling aflame in pleasure. 

You set the chocolate aside and lower your hungry mouth to clean what you spilled. You start at his sternum and slowly lick your way down to his cock. You are thorough in your clean, keeping Taehyung in a constant state of bliss. His stomach is insanely sensitive so to have you lick every inch of it, is very arousing to Taehyung. By the time you reached his cock, Taehyung begs for your mouth.

“Please, more please.” 

 But you sit up and shake your head.

“Not yet.”

He whines softly, knowing that he needs to be patient. You pick up more chocolate and spread it on your neck and shoulders. 

He sits up without being told to, pulling you into him with his fingers on your waist. His lips fall to your neck instantly, his tongue cleans you hungrily. 

“Taehyung”, you sigh, feeling enchanted. His touch is placed with such need. You are so close that his proud cock stands between your stomachs and grinds against your bundle of nerves. You know it must feel so very good for Taehyung because it feels incredible for you. 

He moans and purrs as he licks you clean, dimpling your flesh. He loves every inch of you, but he can’t deny that the inches he desires most are those of your warm, wet cunt around his cock. 

He lifts his head once work is done, gazing up at you.

“Please, I need you.”

“I need you too, but not yet”, you deny him and push him back into the blanket. 

Taehyung falls with a defeated keen, writhing under your weight. A weight which leaves him as you kneel down next to him. You pick up his cock and connect your chocolate covered finger with its tip. 

Taehyung gasps and props himself up on his elbows, tensing his stomach. Wordlessly, you open your mouth to take him inside.

“A-ah ah.”

Taehyung kicks the sand, pulling a face of shocked ruin. You are licking and sucking him at the same time, forcing pleasure so strong down his cock that Taehyung feels delirious from it. You concentrate your hunger on his very sensitive tip, making it even harder for Taehyung to remain normal.

“Stop please”, he begs, gripping your head in panic. 

You slide off of him, studying him in confusion.

“Are you not enjoying this?”

“Too much. I am enjoying it too much. I almost can’t hold back anymore.”

“Oh”, sweet laughter shakes you. You get on all fours so you could be closer to his face. “Oh my darling.”

Taehyung smiles into the kiss you share. 

“I barely even sank down on you”, you tease him, which makes him laugh.

“It isn’t my fault that your mouth is heaven.”

“You charm me, my prince”, you purr, giving him a lazy tongue kiss. 

Taehyung moans, holding your breasts safely. He would have wanted for the kiss to last forever but alas you break it. You pick up more chocolate and climb onto him. Taehyung falls, keeping his hands pinned above his head. You aren’t on his lap right now, but on his chest. You lift yourself and connect your chocolaty finger with your heat. You gasp.

“Sensitive.” 

“My darling, please”, he begs.

You move yourself above his face, looking down at him. Your finger is in your mouth as you clean it. 

“Go on then.” 

Taehyung moans and wraps his arms around your thighs, pushing you onto his face so he could lick you clean. He does a good job at it. Granted, he licks you clean from the chocolate but definitely doesn’t keep you clean. He licks your cunt sloppily and with needy hunger, leaving stripes of his drool everywhere. You taste so sweet, sweeter than any chocolate ever could, it is impossible for Taehyung to have manners right now. 

“Oh! Oh he-heavens”, you gasp, shuddering above him. You grip his head with both hands, pulling a face of complete shocked bliss. You anticipated the sensation, but didn’t expect the carnal hunger with which he would devour you. 

“Taehyung heavens just”, you convulse, falling forward. You catch yourself in the sand, back bending into unnatural positions as your body attempts to make sense of the intense pleasure.

He moans into you, flicking his tongue through your folds quickly. His fingers dimple your thighs, his lips work hard to taste what his tongue misses. 

“Heavens, will you stop?” you get out, fighting yourself free of him at the very last moment. 

You roll off of him, not daring to close your legs because of how much your heat throbs. 

“Have Morguls possessed you? Why would you lick me like this?” 

Taehyung laughs and gets on his knees. 

“I am starved for you. Please forgive me.”

“Tch, you are a gluttonous man, Taehyung of the Snow Isles.”

He giggles and blushes, “it is only because I love your taste so very much.”

You sit up, cupping his face. You are so close, sharing air and eye contact. 

“You are the very reason I am mad, Taehyung my beloved.”

You make him laugh yet again, smiling fondly at the sound of it. He has such a beautiful laugh. Especially when it is honest and comes from the heart. You peck his cheek. 

“Lie down again.”

Taehyung obeys, still smiling and giggling to himself. You climb atop of him and take his length. 

He gasps, face falling in anticipation. He is breathing so heavily. 

One lift of your hips and his cock is aligned with your dripping entrance. 

“Hold my hips as I take you.”

He obeys with a whimper of your name, moaning a second later when you sink him into you. 

His eyes roll back and stay like this, his head falls to the side. 

“That’s it. Taehyung, oh Taehyung”, you moan, sinking down until he bottoms out. Once he does, you begin moving on him. You use his chest for support, rocking your hips on him in bouncing motions and with a circle each time he is completely inside. The rhythm is insanely pleasurable for either of you. How you love being so very close. Taehyung dimples your hips to the point his strength hurts blissfully, you mark his chest with your nails as you hold him close.

“Will you last long?” you ask him. 

He shakes his head vigorously, pressing out a high-pitched “no.”

“You are so delightful, oh.” you enjoy his length in a long, good movement before you continue talking. “Touch me.”

Taehyung obeys, sliding his thumb to your clit to rub it exactly how you want it. He touched you like this countless times before until he mastered it. He is so good at it these days that it is rather difficult not to crumble with the first touch.

“Yes, Tae- aah”, you moan, clenching around him.

“Please no tight- ah” 

“It feels so good. Darling, it feels so good.”

“Heavens, oh. Ah! A-ah!”

It is difficult to speak when your bodies are lost in pleasure and so you both fall into moans and sighs and desperate mewls while your bodies chase your very close highs. 

It didn’t take long for you and Taehyung to have learned each other’s bodies. The first few weeks of your marriage were spent mostly in bed. It is custom in your land for a newlywed couple to travel somewhere foreign. Your family owned land around half a day’s ride from the royal city. You spent your honeymoon in the county estate, getting to know each other in every possible way. You talked a lot, enjoyed good food and part took in each other’s hobbies and when you didn’t do any of these things, you explored each other’s bodies in the most carnal and sensual of ways. You know that you fell in love with Taehyung during these weeks. He was everything you ever dreamed of. Taehyung knows that he fell in love with you in the second night he laid with you and he realised that you were truly that kind-hearted and gentle. You were everything he ever dreamed of.

“My darling”, you fall to your elbows and brush your lips against his cheek, “you are bringing me to paradise.”

“Please can I follow?” 

“Yes”, you moan and break around him, gasping his name as his thumb and length set you aflame. 

Taehyung wails your name, following you with an arch of his back. He chases your throbbing heat with sloppy thrusts, painting your walls white with his seed. He wasn’t even aware that he was as desperate as this orgasm lets him think. Oh how good it feels. 

You and he stay like this after your highs, hugging and catching your breaths. You are warming his length, while he helps you stay filled with his devotion. 

“I don’t know what to say”, you whisper.

“I loved every second of this.”

You smile and nod your head, “yes, yes this is a good thing to say.”

He laughs, tingling when you laugh as well and therefore squeeze his cock. You lift your head, cupping his heated cheeks.

“I love your very soul, Taehyung of the Snow Isles.”

“I love your very essence, ___ of Sand.”

You and he exchange a loving kiss, ending it with soft stub of your noses and a bashful, happy giggle. 

“I feel so hot.”

“Yes, me too.”

You and he giggle, cuddling closer.

“We could swim again and then afterwards we can peel the orange and share the last of the chocolate.”

“Oh”, he blushes, “do not speak to me of chocolate. It will take me a while to be able to look at it normally again.” 

You laugh, “oh you are so delightful, my darling.”

[softlypaintedseafoam]

the summer moon was born from the waves to be loved pt 2

synopsis. you got pregnant and satoru has to put together the pieces five years later.

pairing. gojou satoru x f!reader (afab)

word count. 7k | masterlist

content warning. 18+ (smut with feelings), college au, friends to friends with benefits to co-parents to lovers (what a pipeline), mild angst with a happy ending, use of y/n

reblogs & interactions appreciated.

and finally, part 2 is here! if you'd like to read part 1, click here if you already haven't since you will need the context to build off this one. this series is very near and dear to my heart and it's nice to have it here on this blog as well. fun fact this originally had a co-parent only ending but after writing satoru's pov, i felt so bad i couldn't commit. sorry nanami, better luck next time

o. buoy

If Satoru was forced to use some sort of ocean-related terminology to describe you, he’d say you’re a buoy.

You were the marine biology major. (What was the difference between that and oceanography? Satoru had no idea. You explained it to him at least twice though). Because of that, Satoru heard his fair share of marine terminology from you.

Buoys were those floating things at sea, the ones from Finding Nemo that had all the seagulls on it. You said they were guiding posts, gave heads up for reefs or they could be warnings for hazardous zones.

To Satoru, you were like an anchorless buoy that ー no matter how far he sailed ー he could never reach.

i. halocline

You’ve never felt permanent; not to Satoru.

You sooner felt like one of those quickly formed friendships you thought would last forever only for it to dwindle out as fast as it started. Then that person was just a forgotten name in your contacts list until you’re scrolling down and going ‘Who the hell is this? Delete’ without a second thought.

It was strange.

An oxymoron of the highest degree.

How did someone who was such a constant in his life from the moment you set foot in it simultaneously feel as impermanent as foam on the waves? One minute you were there, the next you weren’t. Satoru wasn’t sure when the fear of you disappearing entirely crept in.

When those looks started appearing on your face.

All he knew was that it started long before he started sleeping with you and it started long before you left.

One moment you’re hanging out ー undoubtedly doing something stupid. Singing the wrong lyrics to a song on the radio, putting Suguru’s hair in pigtails, watching María la del Barrio with Utahime who took one Spanish class and made telenovelas her entire personality for a month ー then you’d grow quiet and this far away look would be in your eyes. Satoru never knew where you went in those moments, but it wasn’t there.

So he’d do something to anchor you back to land. It didn’t have to be much.

A poke to the cheek,

a tickle to your side, 

calling out to you,

sometimes he’d even play with your fingers.

It didn’t matter what he did as long as you’d blink and grin and go “what’s up?” and everything would feel right in the world.

It never would feel right long enough though; the look always came back and the feeling would persist.

When you sang songs in the car.

(“I can do it fast or slow, it really doesn’t matter, though. ‘Cause I’m a pro, what you say? You wanna take me toe to toe? Uh no, dude, I think so,” you’d rap Kel’s verse flawlessly like you’d rehearsed it for hours. “My style is phat and Immature’s got my back on this funky trackー” you pointed at Satoru enthusiastically.

“You want fries with that?” Satoru would point back with way too much passion for a line that went way too hard for what he was actually saying. “Coo coo ca-choo whatcha gonna do?”

Shoko would roll her eyes but she’d still be smiling when Suguru softly brought in the chorus with rhythmic bumps of his head, “watch me do my thing, I like to do my thing, watch me do my thing, everybody sayー”

Your head continued to bump along but you stopped singing along and looked out the window. Satoru remembered he threw his arm around your shoulders loudly belting the rest of the lyrics until you laughed and joined back in.)

When you indulged Utahime’s telenovela personality change.

(“[First], quit zoning out. I’m bored.”

“Hey, unlike you, I’m actually paying attention.”

“Oh yeah, then what’s been going on?”

“Soraya Montenegro is gasping in Spanish right now.”

“Can you both shut u- OH MY GODー”

“IS NO ONE GONNA STOP THIS BITCH?”)

And at parties.

(Satoru always knew you were about to leave when you made that face. Things could start perfectly at the beginning of the night. You’d finally skulk out of your cave like you were Gollum from Lord of the Rings and wave him over. The next moment? You were in deep thought while your friends made joke after joke, rip after rip.

“Sorry gang, but my lips don’t touch anything but Don Equis and Asahi,” you’d say with an air of regality not suited for a party of college students. “Maybe Corona if there’s nothing else. I’m not drinking… whatever this is. So I’m gonna head out, there’s a 24 hour liquor store around here somewhere.”

“You coming back?” Satoru didn’t know why he asked, he already knew what your answer would be.

“Nah, I think I’m done for the night. I’ll catch you guys later though.”

“I’ll walk you back to your place then.”)

He doesn’t know why he looked at your lips that night at the park. 

You were friends, he liked being your friend. That’s all there was to it. It had always annoyed him up until that point when Suguru and Shoko joked the two of you were more like a couple than anything else. That he chased after you like a lovesick puppy, the pathetic but funny kind. He wasn’t sure why it annoyed him so much.

Maybe it was because it felt like it reduced everything about his friendship with you into that shit take that the opposite sex couldn’t just be friends.

Maybe it was something else entirely. He doesn’t know.

You weren’t permanent.

Not while you sat beside him in a park at who knows when in the morning and not even when you reassured him his life would work out the way he wanted and you touched him like he was something precious to you.

“Be careful I don’t disappear for months, spirited away by the sea folk on my Children of the Sea shit. I’ll come back to shore occasionally, mysterious as the sea itself.” You already were as mysterious as the sea itself.

“Even if you got spirited away, I’d just go and bring you right back.” Satoru meant it. Even if, more than anything, it felt more like he was making that promise to reassure himself. It didn’t matter how far off to the sea you went as long as Satoru could bring you back to the shore. “You’ve doomed yourself.” More specifically you said that to him. Maybe he should have taken it more of a warning than a light-hearted nudge.

“You said it first, remember?” You did. He remembered it as clear as day. He’d stumbled onto an unstable boat and you were a buoy far off in the distance.

“There’s no ditching me now, not even at sea.” So stay. That’s all Satoru needed you to do.

The sprinklers that decided to join in on the moment must have been a sign that he was in the middle of a prophecy that was going to be fulfilled whether he wanted it to or not. That’s why he kissed you first in the doorway of your bathroom when you just came to ask if he wanted tea.

Buoys are supposed to have anchors, right? 

Maybe he could be yours.

When Satoru woke up the day after the first time you slept together, he woke up alone.

It wasn’t until he reached out an arm lazily to your side of the bed and he patted the mattress several times that he realized no one was there. The bed had long since gone cold so you had to have been gone for a while. Yes, you called five minutes later from McDonald’s cheerily going “Yooo, Satoru, I’m at Mickey D’s, what do you want?” Still it cemented your impermanence and that was only the first of many times he woke up by himself.

You could be out the house or in; Satoru preferred when you were in. Sometimes you’d be in the kitchen humming some unknown tune, other times you’d be watching TV on the couch. Either way, he could drape himself over you with a tired ‘morning’ and hold you close.

(“What are you wa- is that the new episode of Love is Blind?”

“Um… I only just started it two minutes ago?”

“[First], what the hell!? While I was asleep?!”)

From then on when Satoru saw those far away looks, he’d kiss you since it was on the table now. Satoru put everything into those kisses and you’d kiss him back just as hard.

Don’t go anywhere. He’d thread one hand into your hair and the other would pull your waist closer to his. Satoru didn’t want or need anything else. Stay.

You kissed him like you would.

It’s crazy how easily you could just slip away from everything like a ghost that hadn’t been there at all. It was shockingly apparent that impromptu trip you took to the beach in the middle of the semester.

Everyone had been together in awe of the bioluminescent dots in the sea and it donned on him you hadn’t said anything in a while. You were gone.

He’d painted his panic in his usual bravadoー nonchalant and grinning, claiming he was gonna go bother you for a bit.

It was a relief when he found you.

It was dreadful when he found you.

Satoru couldn’t see your face clearly but he could tell your look was intent on the sea and how it shined with the glow of a billion bright lights. If there was a ghost ship calling you out to the depths, Satoru knew you’d leave in a heartbeat.

You slowly became more noticeably distant from your group of mutual friends after that trip. It didn’t start immediately, you’d acted the same as usual at first. You still sang songs in the car, Utahime had grown out of her novela phase in favor of all of you losing your shit at the editing of Indian serial dramas and in between those moments Satoru found himself in your bed again.

It was around that time you started kissing his forehead; when the kisses started, that’s when you started drifting away from his orbit. You said it was homework, your profs telepathically communicating to increase your workload.

You alright?

What kind of sadists are your professors if you’re this busy?

Just let me know if you need me to come over some kind of distraction. Sorry for coming over earlier unannounced, I shouldn’t have assumed. Just wanted to make sure you were okay.

“Do you think she thinks I’m being clingy?” Satoru mumbled as he stared at your text that you were fine just dying from homework. You definitely thought he’s being clingy. He’d always been a bit clingy with his friends. He was probably more overbearing than usual though.

“Yes,” Kenjaku replied without missing a beat. “You’re gonna get dumped if you keep this up.”

God what does Suguru see in this guy? He’s like a fucking parasite. “I wasn’t asking you,” Satoru glared. “And she isn’t my girlfriend.”

Suguru snorted, running his hands through his boyfriend’s hair, “play nice both of you,” he said lightly and Satoru rolled his eyes. “But if [First] is saying she’s fine, then just trust that she’s fine. She’ll come back around when her workload decreases.”

Satoru glared with a pout, “you’re worried too, don’t act like it’s just me.”

“I never said it was, it’s just that between the two of us I’m handling it better. I sent her a surprise uber eats delivery yesterday.” Asshole, that was a brilliant idea. Satoru wished he thought of it first. Instead he asked Shoko to check on you; maybe you’d be more receptive if it wasn’t him bothering you for the tenth text in a row.

Shoko went to check on you. Apparently you were fine and Satoru was worrying for nothing. She even said that you would come and hang out with them soon. Some people might say it’s a bit petty to celebrate the failures of others. In another universe, Satoru might even agree with them. But in this universe, Satoru was a hater first and foremost. So if he and his friends wanted to go out to eat to celebrate the fact Zenin Naoya was bitching about a failing grade on an essay, he and his friends were going to go out and eat to celebrate Zenin Naoya failing his essay.

Apparently, you were all haters.

It was also just nice seeing you again. If Satoru was more poetic, he’d probably add a bunch of other things to that statement. It was just nice to have you back.

“Karma is probably gonna come back to clap us in the ass for celebrating someone getting a bad grade,” you snickered.

“Sounds like a problem for future us,” Suguru grinned with a twinkle in his eyes.

“We go to school with the Japanese version of Ben Shapiro,” Satoru choked on his strawberry smoothie when Shoko said that. “I think we’re covered on karma.”

“Y’all are terrible people,” Satoru clicked his tongue, shaking his head in disbelief and shame.

“Hey, good neighbor, this dinner was your idea,” you nudged him with a dry tone and a smile.

Satoru nudged back with a grin of his own.

Dinner was fun, lots of drinks and jokes. It was a non-alcoholic beverage sort of night. Shoko said it was because they’d clearly been drinking too much if Satoru of all people had gotten better with holding his liquor. Her point was fair but rude nonetheless yet when Satoru turned to whine for you to come to his defense, the distant glaze was over your eyes and your smile was smaller than it had been the last time he looked at it.

“[First],” your motion to close your apartment door stopped and you hummed with a raised eyebrow. Satoru felt more dread than usual that night. Something about the air had been different. The face you made felt different than it normally did. It was always distant, you were always far away, but tonight was the worst it had ever been. “We’re good, right?”

You look at him like he grew an extra four eyes. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

Satoru couldn’t meet your eyes as he shrugged wordlessly. You’d probably say he was being ridiculous and clingy if he mentioned anything but he couldn’t find anything else to say to make himself seem unbothered either.

You rolled your eyes with a grin before stretching your arms out wide. “You’re being overdramatic, you big baby. Come here, big guy,” Satoru pulled you in close, burying his nose in the corner of his neck. Despite welcoming your embrace, it did nothing to soothe Satoru’s anxieties.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Satoru asked without pulling away from you completely.

The way you smiled at him was warm but it still somehow felt unreadable. Satoru knew all of your smiles. Your happy ones,

the sad ones, 

the one you made when Sora finally got into Smash. 

The ones you made when you were mad that he was successfully charming his way out of you being mad at him. 

Satoru didn’t know this one.

Despite that fact, Satoru let you cup his face in your hands and he let you stand on the tip of your toes to place a kiss on his forehead. “See you, Satoru.“

ii. undertow

Sleep didn’t come to Satoru after he laid in bed.

His head was too full as he kept running back through what you told him after he took you home.

You didn’t say you’d see him later.

You’re just being overdramatic, Satoru forced his eyes to close. You’re always overdramatic. It’s my best trait 30% of the time.

No one else said anything that night, it was just him who felt like this, right? It was always just him. If everyone else felt like something was off all night, someone would have mentioned it by now. With that, Satoru forced his eyes closed for all of five minutes before he decided to send, at the very least, a dumb meme. Something that’d make you laugh when you saw it and would make you reply “I’m wheezing” or “that’s so us!”

A quick stroll through his photos was all it took to find something suitable. He can’t remember exactly what it was, only that it was stupid.

It was stupid and didn’t go through to your phone.

A disconnect and reconnect dance to his wifi later and it still didn’t go through.

Satoru’s feet was on the pavement before not even a heartbeat after he calmly made sure his apartment was locked.

He just had to be sure you were okay. It was just him being an overdramatic, big baby. Your phone died or something and that’s why nothing was going through. Or maybe this was like the time you put your phone in airplane mode to narrowly avoid sending Shoko the wrong meme and then forgot to switch it back off.

You don’t answer the door when he knocks and he goes back and forth between knocking and trying to reach you on your other socials.

Twitter? Blocked.

He can’t find you anywhere else.

Instagram.

LINE.

Discord.

It’s like you were never there, gone from all the group chats and servers you once shared.

Satoru stayed outside of your apartment for the better part of an hour before one of your neighbors opened her door tired and annoyed.

“Dude, do you know what time it is?” Your neighbor asked groggily. She’s a nice girl, the reason rent was low enough in the area you could afford an apartment on your own. Apparently she wrecked shit in the neighborhood on the low to keep the rent down. Even better was the fact she was the landlord’s daughter. Not all heroes wore capes. 

“Sorry,” Satoru knew he must look like a maniac with his messy hair and wide eyes. “have you seen [First]? I’m having a hard time reaching her.”

The neighbor gave him a funny look, “she moved out tonight,” she told him like that was the fifth time she told him that her favorite color was orange. “I thought it was weird you didn’t help with moving her stuff out a few days ago. She gave me the key to give it to my dad tomorrow. Didn’t she tell you she was leaving?”

iii. la niña

Satoru didn’t know which was worse sometimesー the fact Shoko kept the fact he had a daughter a secret for five years or how he found out.

It wasn’t like Shoko approached him one gloomy night when memories of the most prominent ghost in his life began bubbling to the surface. She didn’t grimly say that she needed to tell him something and he should sit down for it. She didn’t start off with apologies, saying she felt she had no choice or that if things had gone different she would have told him.

None of that happened.

Satoru found out by accident.

Accident.

All because Shoko didn’t hear him approach her when she was on her phone scrolling through instagram. She was so focused on whatever she was looking at, she didn’t even notice how Satoru quietly snickered to himself and snuck behind her to give her spook. He was just about to say something, ready for swears and ‘you’re so annoying, what are you 12?!’s when he took an instinctual glance at her phone and he saw you.

Thoughts of scaring Shoko went out the window in a matter of milliseconds. He didn’t even feel his body move when he snatched her phone out of her hand.

“Heyー” Shoko started with an offended hiss but when she looked over her shoulder, she looked like she saw an impending storm and her jaw clamped shut.

Satoru took in the photo like it was the last thing he’d ever see. You were dressed in a blue t-shirt and cream colored shorts, some aquarium’s logo stitched into your clothes. You were holding a kid, hugging her tightly and kissing her cheek while the girl was caught mid-giggle. And when Satoru looked at the little girl in your arms, it was his eyes that looked back.

“I- she told me not to say anything,” Shoko murmured, brown eyes looking anywhere but at him. Then the secrets came rolling out one after the other.

“If I didn’t see this picture,” Satoru’s grip tightened on Shoko’s phone to ground himself to the present. “Were you still going to keep this a secret from me?”

Her answer was silence.

iv. el niño

“I have to be honest,” from the corner of your eye, you see Satoru chasing after Itsuki, Nanako and Mimiko. Suguru is watching next to you on the bench, your respective care bags for accidents and playground injuries at the ready between you. “I thought I’d be more surprised you’re a dad now. But it kinda just makes sense. You always had ‘single mom’ energy in school.”

Brown eyes flash with recognition, “you had a dream about me adopting kids once, right?”

“No, I had a dream where you were off a perk and calling people without powers ‘monkeys’,” you correct your old friend petulantly. As if he should have remembered after all these years without contact. “You just happened to adopt children in the process of all that.”

Suguru snorts, “my apologies for getting the details wrong. So you had a dream that I adopted kids once and that I was off a perk.”

“Exactly, thank you.”

A silence somewhere between comfortable and awkward settles over the two of you, save for the squeals of little girls and Satoru’s manic laughter as the evil sorcerer king.

Suguru looks nice. 

He’s still rocking the man bun but he’s opted to let some of his hair hang loose and he’s a couple hundred pounds down a shitty, parasitic boyfriend. Suguru and Kenjaku broke up halfway through the semester after you transferred. “Before you ask, yes, we had dinner to celebrate,” Suguru told you when you saw him for the first time in years a few days ago.

You’ve had your fair share of private updates on the lives of your old friends you didn’t keep in contact with. Shoko kept you up to date on everything. A surprising number of your old friends had gone into the field of educationー Utahime, Suguru and Satoru. You wonder how Satoru’s parents reacted to that information. You have yet to ask; it seemed like too much of a mood killer when Satoru happily recounted stories about his students a few weeks ago.

When Itsuki almost trips you make to stand but Satoru catches her before you can blink. 

“He’s pretty good with her,” Suguru says like he’s a mind reader. “There was this kid we used to babysit, Riko, when we were younger. He said he hated it but he’s always been pretty good with kids.”

You can believe it. There’s plenty of things you remember Satoru complaining about despite his inherent talents in them. It makes you want to cry sometimes seeing how good he is with Itsuki. Your daughter is smart enough to play neutral when he asks but you’re pretty sure your daughter has a favorite parent. Adorable little traitor, you laugh softly to yourself. You’d think five years would give someone an edge.

Five years.

“Are you… mad?” You look at your old friend from the corner of your eye.

Suguru takes his time answering, mulling over unknown thoughts in his head. Playful as you remember Suguru being, he’s always been introspective. He thinks before he acts, lets things slowly come to a boil before turning off the stovetop. “I was more worried than mad to start,” he finally speaks. “It’s not everyday an entire group of people gets ghosted. I’m a little mad you didn’t open up though.”

Your smile is small and your eyebrows knit apologetically. 

“But at the end of the day, this is nothing compared to what went down between Satoru and me in high school. So I guess I can forgive you.” You never did get the story about Satoru and Suguru’s mysterious high school turning point. The itch to know all the details is minor compared to the way your shoulders relax when Suguru shoots you a familiar smile. I missed you too. “Just don’t do anymore disappearing acts.” Smooth as they come, Suguru raises a closed fist just above your care bags. 

Smile a bit more grand, you bump the side of your fist to his. “I can happily vouch that it won’t be happening again.”

“Good. It’s nice to have you back.”

“It’s nice being back.”

v. sea state

“Did you get an undercut?”

“Yeah, a while ago,” Satoru grins. “I look nice, right?”

“Please accept the compliment normally so your arrogance doesn’t rub off on our daughter,” you shake your head but a good-natured grin is plastered on your face. “Itsuki, make sure Daddy behaves. You’re in charge as the honorary aquarist.”

Itsuki’s eyes fill with delight at the duty bestowed upon her. “I will,” she promises, chest puffed with as much pride as a five year old can produce. It’s a rare day off in the middle of the week for Satoru. Normally he’s confined to his school during these hours, but thanks to some school holiday you scheduled in advance for him to take Itsuki around your aquarium. It isn’t the first time Itsuki’s been, you’d taken her there before she could even walk. It might as well be her first visit though from how she’s beaming. “Daddy, you have to be good so Mommy doesn’t get mad.”

“As you command, general,” Satoru salutes playfully, picking Itsuki up in his arms. “Now then, if you excuse us, this father-daughter duo is gonna enjoy the aquarium while you work.” 

“Bup bup bup,” you tut before the man can take off. “At least let me get my goodbye kiss before you run off to have fun without me,” you peck Itsuki’s cheek once, twice before blowing a raspberry and she squeals. “Alright,” you place your hands on your hips. “You two go have fun. Tell Daddy all the names you gave the whale sharks, okay?”

You think that’s that until Itsuki innocently asks, “where’s Daddy’s kiss, Mommy?” You blink once. Maybe you misheard- “You’re supposed to give both of us goodbye kisses, aren’t you?” Apparently you haven’t.

“I think Daddy’s too old for goodbye kisses, Itsuki.”

Itsuki squints, unsatisfied with your answer, “but Grandma always kisses Granny and they’re ancient.”

Why do your parents have to have a long lasting and fulfilling love life?

You and Satoru share an awkward smile as you both wonder what either of you can do to get out of this situation. Kissing Satoru used to be as easy as breathing. He’s always been the more affectionate of the two of you and it rubbed off on you some time during your university days. But you’re not in university anymore and your relationship has most definitely changed since then.

Still with bated breath, you gesture for Satoru to bring his head low enough for you to kiss his forehead, “there. Now both of you go have fun.”

If you think you see Satoru’s expression dim, he’s all smiles the moment you blink. “Try not to be jealous when you see us feeding the stingrays, [First].” He’s gone before you can tease you’re the one of the employees that help with that.

Once a maelstrom, always a maelstrom.

You love your place of work, it always has a familiar noisy sort of peaceful bathed in the light of blue decorated in corals, pinks and purples. Aquariums have a special magic to them. You fell in love with the sea when you were young and never fell out. The magic somehow is renewed every time you clock in, even on the most trying days.

How can you not when you see the dozens of people that stop by with the same love?

How can you not when you see dozens of people that stop by and fall in love with it for the first time?

“Hi, Mommy!” You hear Itsuki call from a distance. You wonder how she can even see you when you look up and see she’s on Satoru’s shoulders. It’s so natural, the two of them together. She’s wearing his sunglasses, if you can really say that. They keep sliding off her face but she holds onto them resolutely and Satoru is smiling widely in front of the tank full of black tip reef sharks, whale sharks and dozens of other fish in between.

You don’t know how your heart can fill with even more affection than you thought possible but it does. “Hi, baby,” you wave back. “I love you!”

“I love you too!” I have to enjoy that before she gets old enough to start thinking she’s too cool to tell her mom I love you. You know Satoru should too when you see her lean over to plant her father an awkward kiss on his head. You can’t hear what she tells him but you can guess she must be saying she loves him. Even from his profile, you can tell Satoru is saying he loves her back from how adoringly he looks up at her.

You see Itsuki giggling and saying something else you can’t hear, looking down at her father in earnest.

Whatever it is she says, Satoru looks over at you with eyes that are wide and somehow reflect all of the blue from tank lights. Despite how it makes your heart twist, you give him another small wave. When he doesn’t wave back, you wonder what it is your daughter could have said that had him in such a stupor.

Whatever he says to Itsuki, his eyes stay on you while he says it.

vi. nearshore

“Do you still like the same brand of honey or no?” You call over your shoulder from the kitchen.

It’s unusually quiet in your apartment since Itsuki is at your parents’ house for the weekend. You only realized you’d forgotten to tell your co-parent when he showed up at your house with sweets in hand. “What Itsuki doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” you told him with a snicker when you invited him inside to eat them. 

“Satoru?” You call out again.

No response.

You turn off the eye your kettle is on and look out into the living room. He’s right where you left him. “Hey,” you sit on the ottoman in front of him. He blinks in surprise when he sees your hand waving in front of face. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Satoru smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Let me rephrase that question,” you start anew. “What’s wrong? Come on now,” you grin crookedly. “You’ve always sucked at pretending to be okay in front of me.”

Satoru’s smile falters for a heartbeat, “yeah?”

“Yes, Mr. Bravado,” Satoru might have been an expert at fooling others, but you know him. He was the guy who never took notes but passed every test because he worked his ass off in the background. The type who’d act oblivious but you realize halfway through a meal that the reason he took you is because he noticed you’d been feeling down lately. It’s one of the things you love about him. “So come out with it, fess up.”

One, two, three seconds pass before Satoru finally cracks.

“I’m mad. More at myself than anything.” Before you can reply, Satoru opens his mouth again but it feels more like he’s talking to himself. “I shouldn’t be upset anymore, right? We made up.” Satoru runs his fingers through his hair in frustration. “We made up,” he says again. “I shouldn’t still be mad about anything. Things have been going great.”

Satoru finally falls silent and he looks tired. You hate you’re the reason for it. “It’s okay to still be mad about Itsuki. I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I… I’d take it back if I could. I know that doesn’t mean anything after five years but I mean it. Even if I was scared I should have told you. I just- I don’t know, it had gotten into me. I was thinking how you couldn’t commitー”

“You thought I was non-committal?” Satoru raises an eyebrow and he looks hurt by your revelation.

“Satoru, you have never been in a relationship with anyone throughout the time I’ve known you,” you rub your finger and thumb together nervously. Five years later is as good as any time to have a conversation you should have had long ago. “You were scared when I asked what our relationship was, remember?”

“I didn’t know what the right answer was,” Satoru argues with his hands raised. “I thought you were tired of our friends always talking about us being a couple.”

“You were relieved when I said that-” you stammer over your words thoughts going much faster than your mouth could. You remember the tormented days of unrequited affection quite clearly. If there was someone who avoided romantic relationships like the plague, it was Satoru. He was a flirt, relished in the attention he received for his well-known good looks. Regardless, he’d never committed to anyone. “You said fucking someone else was a non-issue! For all I knew you were sleeping with someone else, it wasn’t like we were-”

“It was a non-issue if it meant you weren’t going to take off and start avoiding me!” Satoru snaps like you’ve grown a second head. Maybe you did judging by how he looks at you incredulously. Your mouth closes, unsure what to say next and Satoru looks away with a scoff. “It’s the other way around,” he mutters so soft you almost didn’t catch it. “you were the non-committal one.”

“Excuse me?” It’s your turn to look at Satoru like his body has magically sprung additional body parts. When he doesn’t immediately say anything, you double down. “Satoru, you don’t get to say that and then turn around and not elaborate on it.”

“You know, the first day we met, Suguru told me that I acted like the sun shined out of your ass,” Satoru says much to your confusion. But he went on, lost in his memories, “it might as well have, I thought you were so cool. I wanted you in my life so bad from pretty much the moment you said I doomed myself. I didn’t care what happened next in my life as long as you were there for it.

“But you left me,” Satoru croaks with a smile, crystal blue eyes dark and empty. “You left me.” The way he says it breaks your heart. “I’m so gone for you. I’ve always been gone for you. I just didn’t want to see it. Somehow I always knew you’d leave.” He laughs, cold and humorless and completely lost. “And you did.

“You could be right there with me and then suddenly be so far away. It always felt like you would just up and leave one day. You and Utahime always talked about intuition and trusting it. I guess mine was saying from early on ‘this girl is gonna break your heart one day, don’t fall in love with her.’”

“I knew it when you got those far away looks in your eyes. I knew it when I woke up that first morning alone. I knew it when you didn’t say you’d see me later. And just like that you were gone on that ghost ship. You left and didn’t even tell me you were going. Do you know how much that fucking hurt? I wait outside for hours and your neighbor’s the one who tells me you’re gone. I may have purposely lied to myself about how I felt but I never slept with anyone else. I didn’t want anyone else. I was the one who kept reaching out, you never reached back.

Itsuki’s the second tier on the cake and the rest of the frosting. You’ve been gone on that ghost ship for five years and when I finally catch up, I still feel like I’m drowning.”

“… I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I didn’t know.”

“I know. That’s almost the worst part. Guess I didn’t wear my heart on my sleeve as much as you thought.”

.

.

.

“It was the week after our second year midterms,” you recall when you were six years younger and the biggest problem you had in life was a professor was out to get you. Midterms had finally passed and you were on a victorious emotional high after finishing your last exam. At least until some asshole who should have covered their mouth coughed and you were coughing by the end of the day. “I got a cold and just so I could breathe better when I slept, you let me lay on you on the couch the whole time even though you ended up getting sick afterwards.” 

You’d felt so bad, coughing all the while but Satoru hadn’t let you budge an inch, proudly claiming ‘I don’t get sick, I’m built different so cough away.’ When he got sick days later, he said over coughs, ‘This has nothing to do with when you were sick. This is from Suguru.’ “That was when I realized that I’d been stupidly in love with you ever since I met you.”

Gojou Satoru has been called many things throughout your years of knowing him. But for you, the fall child has always been easy to love. He was made for it. “You were a pain in the ass but you were my pain in the ass. I never wanted it any other way.”

“Stop being mean to me,” Satoru leans forward to rest his head on your shoulder just as you wrap your arms around his back. “Don’t you know who you’re being mean to when you’re being an ass?”

You laugh weakly, “the guy I’m still gone for?” When you hear a sniffle in the corner of your neck, you tighten your grip.

“Don’t go away this time,” Satoru hugs back.

vii. ocean deep, seafoam soft

Satoru finds himself in your bed again for the first time in years.

“I confess my love to you and you try to kill me, I’m hurt.”

“Oh don’t be such a baby, I didn’t even know it was there,” you chuckle fondly after the two of you stumble into your bed after nearly tripping on a stray toy on your floor. Satoru loves that laugh. He loves how you look up at him with all the adoration in the world. “Remember that time we forgot that textbook was on your bed?”

“Please don’t remind me, my back hurts just remembering it,” Satoru whines but laughter escapes him despite his apparent trauma. It wasn’t one of your best moments during your shared years of sexual escapades in college. You pull him down kiss his lips tenderly and he practically moans, relishing the feeling. No more forehead kisses, he wants to tell you. You did that a lot before you left. 

“I love you,” Satoru whispers in awe at the words falling out of his own mouth. In awe at the fact you’re even there with him at that moment. “I love you.”

Your hands cup his face like he’s something precious and you thumbs away the tears pooling in his eyes despite the ones in your own, “I love you too.”

Satoru’s had sex with you more times than he can count. 

He memorized everything, refused to forget a single detail. It feels like the first time all over again.

The way one set of your fingernails dig into his back while he envelopes your other hand with one of his own. How your fingers intertwined tightly. How amazing you feel squeezing around him tightly. The speed of your pulse as he peppers your throat with kisses and soft nips. The ache between his legs as he rolls his hips into you gently yet persistently, chasing his high but wanting it to last long beyond the confines of this singular moment. 

It’s not just this one moment anymore though. “[First],” Satoru squeezes your hand tighter. “[First].”

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

Don’t leave me this time, Satoru gasps like a man starved for air before kissing you again desperately. Stay.

(When Satoru wakes up the next morning to you in his arms and playing with his hair at the base of his neck, he feels like could cry. He nestles into your chest with a tired grin, “morning.”)

viii. anchor

Gojou Itsuki, that’s the name staring back at him.

Satoru loves when it’s his birthday. Until Itsuki was born it was arguably the best day in the universe. The importance of birthdays tends to titter on the rope of priorities, but it’s the one day of the year when the people important to him would pop up to say ‘hi’. Even people from the past. An old teacher he used to drive crazy but always said he thought Satoru had a lot of potential.

His mom still sent him a birthday text even if most of their exchanges are dry the rest of the year.

Even his students will tip in to get him a card and some sort of celebratory gift on December 7th.

December 7th lost a bit of its shine when you exited from his life. With you and Itsuki both in it, it shines tenfold.

It’s just the light is too blinding when Satoru takes out his last present of a plain envelope and he sees Gojou Itsuki written in bold and clear text.

Gojou Itsuki

Father: Gojou Satoru

v. sea state private ver.

"Daddy, do you love Mommy too?”

“Yeah. Daddy loves Mommy.”

[shikariiin]

And now, Diesel!

If anyone's curious I'm planning to expand the class for diesels

Type 1 is for trucks/moving stuff

Type 2 is for folks like D10, which I made him the engine specialized in Terraforming :3

I'll explain more in future post.

Note : all Diesels are >70

[thecheshireprincess]

The Game Itself

Chapter VIb: Through the Cracks the Darkness Seeps

A Chishiya x childhood best friend reader (Niragi's sister!) AU Series

Content Warning: Canon-typical violence, mentions of killing, threats of murder, curse words (like a lot this time), your abusive father is here and he is a menace, Niragi and his thoughts are a chaotic mess here

A/N: A short chapter-let akin to chapter IIb to give you a small glimpse at what's going on with Niragi at this point in our story. This chapter is curated chaos, intentionally. I want it to feel like you're in Niragi's head, fighting back and forth with himself as he starts to descend into madness. It's confusing and crazy, but I hope you love it anyway.

Previous Chapter The Game Itself Masterlist

The spray of the ocean tickles his skin, blue waves lapping gently at his feet. The funny scream of the seagulls flapping overhead, waiting for a child to drop a fry so they can feast. The gritty sand making its way between his toes, grounding him into the Earth. The serene feeling of freedom, of wholeness that being there brought him.

He could almost feel every sensation. Things will be okay, as long as you hold onto the good thoughts. That is what he'd always told you - was it still true, even for him? Even now?

Niragi finds himself blinking blearily in the heavily air conditioned lobby of the resort, the chill sinking into his bones as he stood without the shirt he'd aggressively wrapped around you. Trying in vain to return back to himself after what had just happened between you. He needed to calm down, to take back control. He looks around at the now nauseatingly familiar seafoam green walls, adorned by fake plants and coastal art pieces you had proudly carted in here from all over Tokyo. He had known that you would jump at the chance to bring, well, the beach to The Beach if Hatter gave it to you. It reminded you of the story; the one that never failed to help you feel calm and safe in the aftermath. It reminded Niragi, too. Reminded him that he has spent his life protecting you; is still trying to protect you. That every move he makes is one to keep you safe.

Except tonight.

Tonight, he hadn't kept you safe. Tonight, he had hurt you. He had somehow become something that was equally terrifying to both of you.

Niragi had lost control.

He had lost control of the darkness he had spent weeks strategically allowing to pulse through his veins at opportune moments, using it like a secret weapon to push through the fiery gauntlet that was Borderland. You'd unknowingly fractured his carefully crafted militant persona the night that you cried silently in your bed about seeing Himari die in front of you; it had taken all of Niragi's willpower not to scoop you up and hold you in the darkness. Even now, he felt sick with himself for giving you only enough to not break entirely, offering just to hold your hand when you needed so much more. He shouldn't have even allowed himself to see you that night, low contact was a major factor in this game of his, after all; but Aguni's words had shaken him. Your sister was soaked in blood after the game. She's definitely not okay, she needs you. How those words made his heart soar, sickly, you still needed him. Wanted him.

But you shouldn't want him. Because even then, he'd been upset with you, hadn't he? He had gripped your jaw and dug in with his fingers tightly, berating you in frustration because you simply weren't understanding how endangered you all were. He had spent his life being cautious with you, ensuring you never received touch from him that you weren't expecting or didn't want. Carefully earning your trust so that you wouldn't flinch away from him. Over the course of just a couple nights, he'd ripped through that trust and destroyed a very painstakingly laid foundation. Like a fucking hurricane.

This was not how things were supposed to go.

Niragi had to get the fuck out of here. He couldn't stay trapped in this cage, where all four walls reminded him of you because you, in all your sweetness and creativity, had tried to make this prison a cozy home you could curl up in. This hellhole where he was forced to commit violence against strangers first just to ensure his place - your place - at the top of the hierarchy and then because he found he actually enjoyed it? It was worse than even before in that first game, it was too easy for him to kill. To torture. To be cold and calculated and cruel. To be like your father. He couldn't breathe. Panic.

Like being held captive by the ocean, caught in a never ending rip current he was too weak to fight against. He was going to drown.

And so he ran. As far as his legs would carry him from The Beach. From you. Niragi had left marks of his anger imprinted on your skin and on your mind. And especially on your heart. Hell, you should be the one running from him.

Niragi didn't like being too far from you, even in the middle of this game he was forcing the three of you to play. He wanted to be nearby in case something happened. In case some dumb asshole tried to take advantage of your drunk and vulnerable state. He wanted to be there to fix it.

But really the man should have kept his distance; should not have let you get too close to him while he was like this. Cracking under pressure, his inner monologue a constant warzone between two opposite sides. Things would simply be better for everyone if he stayed far away. He was different now, he could feel it. Could sense the glare that your best friend gave him as he looked contemptuously right through him, knowing the truth. Chishiya was too damn smart. And now, he was certain that you knew the truth, too. This was not just a game, anymore. This was who Niragi was.

How could he have let it spill over onto you?

The scene at the pool had been the worst of his offenses thus far; Niragi had been swallowed whole by the endless pit that was his trauma. It was like he'd taken a backseat in his own body as soon as Aguni demanded that Arisu be punished for intervening with Usagi. He didn't think he wanted to hurt the man, did he? The lines were blurring between the trauma and the true him, and he really wasn't sure anymore which thoughts were his and which were just a side effect of allowing this monster to assist in his cruelty. Why had Aguni even asked for Usagi? He'd known that the ex-SDF officer was up to no good. He was glad that he'd told him to stay the fuck away from you.

But why had you stepped in to help the newcomers? Flouncing around in that tiny bikini, showing everything off. It had enraged him, red clouding the edges of his vision. He was so disgusted, but not with you. With himself for bringing you to a place that forced you to walk around half naked, unarmed. Unsafe. And he'd known that those things would be true from the beginning, that this would be a dangerous place for you to be.

He'd still forced you to come to The Beach; you'd been correct in saying that. Because Niragi was selfish. He needed you. Without you, there was nothing left of him. Your brother should have left you alone.

Because if he was really honest with himself? You didn't need him, you hadn't for a long time. You thought you did now because he'd made you feel that way. Because he made Chishiya make you feel that way. But he was not yet ready to address that level of his manipulation. It was all just an excuse, really. Using you as a reason to keep turning to his dark side. To tell himself that he wasn't really a bad person, as long as it was just a game to keep you safe.

And maybe it was. Maybe that is how it all started, with good intentions. Until it wasn't. Until he started losing control of the monster. Until he found himself yelling at you, grabbing onto your face, intimidating you. You, the only person he's ever loved and cared about. You know what they say, the path to hell is paved with good intentions.

Niragi was on that fancy brick laid path to hell. Maybe he himself was hell. He was certain that more than a few people in this place would associate his name with it. He was quickly losing his own game. He'd watched as Hatter quickly drove himself mad with power until he lost himself, then watched as Aguni had to follow along and pickup the pieces.

And now, he was following a similar destiny. He just hoped it wouldn't be you following along and picking up the pieces.

Because now that raw, awful fearful look in your eyes that he'd had to comfort and coax away for so many years had been directed at him. You had been afraid of him, for good reason. He had broken the most important promise that he'd ever made you.

Koko, I'm not Dad. I will never be like him.

He had spoken those words gently into your ear, holding you close and combing his fingers through your hair as he did. It was only a few weeks ago, but it felt like several lifetimes. Those hands that had so gently held you over the years, had rocked you to sleep more times than he could count, had braided your hair every morning for years had now caused chaos and turmoil. He can't imagine being that gentle with anything anymore.

Because Niragi was different now. And somehow, you were too.

Your shared trauma caused a similar darkness to lurk under the surface of your skin, Niragi could see the shadow of it flickering mockingly in your eyes on occasion. It met with the darkness in him, kindred spirits dancing in a toxic tango.

But you, you were careful. You kept your walls up against it, certainly afraid of what it would mean to let it take over. Niragi knew you were scared. Not of the darkness itself, but of what people would think if they saw it come out. Of what he would think. Of what Chishiya would think.

And Niragi was proud. Proud that you didn't rely on it to get you through these death games. You were stronger than your trauma and strong enough to not need it, even here. You were stronger than him. Because Niragi was weak. Weak to fight against his trauma. Too weak to even face himself without hiding behind his little sister.

Niragi holds his throbbing head in his hands, sitting dejectedly with his back pressed up against a brick wall in a darkened alley. Despite gaining some distance from the resort, he still felt trapped by the rip current of these thoughts swirling darkly around him, threatening with every breath to pull him under for good. This is truly chaos.

He had hurt you; an impossibility in his mind, he could never. Would never. But he had. And it could get much worse than that. He'd done much worse than that to others. Enjoyed doing much worse than that to others?

He was sick. He had really really fucked up.

And what was worse? It was too late to turn back now. He couldn't stop playing this game because it was already in motion. The plan was already in motion.

Niragi would get you home if it was the last thing he did.

The man stays out until the sun peeks out from behind the horizon, its rays attempting to penetrate his chilled body with warmth. Niragi knows that no one would be looking for him overnight. He'd created such a persona for himself that even the mention of his name instilled fear in most citizens of The Beach. It would be a treat to most of them if he disappeared forever.

That was what he'd wanted, honestly. For people to fear him, to fear what he might be capable of. He'd thought it would keep you safe to have an insane brother - how could he have known the one that you'd need protection from was him?

Niragi walked slowly in the direction of The Beach, dragging his feet along the still cool pavement. He hadn't sorted out his emotions or his mental state in the slightest. Was there even any hope left for him?

The resort was uncharacteristically quiet and calm this early in the morning, the players still too drunk or already hungover to continue partying for several more hours. The man slunk quietly to his room, hoping like hell not to run into anyone. He needed a shower and a few minutes of sleep before facing anyone, namely your best friend.

♤ ♡ ◇ ♧

Niragi stands by the large picture window in his room staring down at you sitting hesitantly on a chair by the pool. His heart twists as he notices that you have a long, flowing cover up wrapped tightly around your figure. His cruel words from last night had caused you to falter from your usual confidence. A hooded figure enters the room stealthily, well-practiced by now in doing so. Niragi doesn't turn his head to acknowledge his presence, continuing to study your form at the pool with your friends.

"We need to leave Kuina out of the plan," the blonde speaks coolly, tone condescending. It was clear that Chishiya was less than impressed with the older man at this point, no doubt having spent the entire night picking up the pieces of your shattered heart. Niragi whips his head to look at the shorter man, examining him through narrowed eyes.

"What?" is the only word that Niragi can grate out, exhaustion still radiating through his body, having slept only for an hour or two albeit fitfully.

Chishiya blinks slowly up at your brother, irritated that this is such a hard thing for him to grasp. He speaks again, "You've taken enough from her. I'm not going to just stand by and let you take this too."

After a moment or two, Niragi finally sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers, "I'm not trying to take anything from her, but this -"

"This is how it has to be, I know. So you've decided for all of us," Chishiya snaps, cutting the older man off. Niragi raises an eyebrow, surprised by the outburst from someone who is usually so emotionless and level-headed.

"Are you doubting me, Chishiya?"

"I'm starting to, yes."

"You little . . ." Niragi starts, getting agitated with the conversation. But your best friend is tired of it too, cutting your brother off again, "It's starting to not feel like a game anymore. You're out of control. I hope you realize she has lost her trust in you completely after yesterday."

Chishiya walks over to the window, joining your brother in watching you. His breath catches in his throat seeing you there with Kuina and Usagi - a girl's day. Something you deserved to have, but wouldn't if the plan continued on its current trajectory.

Niragi sighs, not fighting back on that point. He knew he'd hurt you, knew that he was no longer just playing a game. He'd spent all night fighting himself over it.

"We brought Kuina here with a specific purpose, Chishiya. We can't just leave her out of it because my sister grew attached. You shouldn't have let that happen."

The blonde scoffs, rolling his eyes, "It wasn't my intention for them to meet at all, they found each other and got close. There was no stopping it, and I wouldn't have done that to her anyway."

Though he hadn't explicitly stated it, Niragi knew the true meaning of Chishiya's words - I'm not like you. It wouldn't matter, though, that your best friend wasn't like him. Once you found out what was really going on, you'd be very unhappy with both of them. It was risky, Niragi forcing Chishiya into his plan. It could damage your relationship before you ever left the friendzone. It was a risk he had to be willing to take - so you could be safe. So he could try to fix what he had broken in the first place.

The two men stand in silence for a long time, several minutes creeping by slowly in the strained environment. Chishiya watches as you walk away from your friends and towards the bar, the corners of his lips lifting upwards as he remembers the last time you drank.

"You're still right about one thing, even if you're the worst brother alive. We need to get her away from The Beach before everything crumbles."

Niragi side-eyes the shorter man, saying nothing but willing him to continue talking.

"We leave Kuina out of the plan. Arisu can take her place." Chishiya seems confident in his ability to manipulate Arisu, that the latter can even be trusted. That's good enough for Niragi - though you and Chishiya don't trust him anymore, he still trusts both of you with his life.

The taller man nods slowly, no longer really caring to talk about the plan as he becomes drawn in by a figure slowly creeping along the pool deck. Approaching you. Niragi's eyes widen, then narrow, then widen again in panicked realization - he knew that man. Very well.

"Motherfucker. . ." Niragi growls, rage and fear mixing and simmering within his chest, "this cannot be fucking happening. Absolutely not."

Chishiya snaps his head to study the older man, certain he has finally lost it entirely. But then your best friend follows his line of sight, eyes locked on the same thing. Niragi is shaking, terror and violent fury seeping out of his pores as he draws his rifle, ready to shoot out the window.

Chishiya jumps to push the gun away, "Idiot!" he snaps, "You could hit her!" The blonde turns on his heel and sprints down the hallways of the hotel, trying to get to you as quickly as possible. Niragi, still stunned and speechless is stuck about five seconds behind.

The man's mind races - how had your father gotten to The Beach? Why was he here? Who the fuck gave him a weapon?

Chishiya and Niragi burst out onto the pool deck just as glass shatters at your feet. You knew who was standing behind you without turning around to look, and no doubt you were terrified.

As always when Niragi enters a scene, the place got quiet. People who had previously been dancing or splashing around in the pool now smartly avoiding his gaze or stupidly gaping at him, depending on the level of drunkenness they were working with.

Niragi didn't give a fuck about them right now. He cared about you. Currently facing away from him, stood stalk still in your place standing in front of your friends, definitely shaking. Just like him. He knew what look was on your face, because he'd seen it himself just last night. He'd caused that look too, and he would never forgive himself.

But now, things were fucked beyond oblivion. The reason for his and your lifelong turmoil and trauma was standing here on the pool deck, armed right behind you. Niragi had always assumed your father's threats to kill you were empty words. Something that psychotic people say just to instill more fear in their victims, to entertain themselves.

Niragi's stomach sinks as he realizes how much he'd underestimated this man. With a weapon perched and ready to shoot, he knew that he would do it. Would definitely do it here, in Borderland where there would be minimal consequences. Was getting ready to do it right this second. In the middle of the day, at a fucking pool party.

Except your father had miscalculated one thing - that where you are, your brother would be sure to follow. And that brother of yours, was no longer sweet and kind and loving. That brother of yours would pull the trigger of his own rifle on your father without hesitation, if only you weren't standing in the same line of fire.

The atmosphere surrounding The Beach has grown tense, everyone seemingly noticing what was going on. More family drama! Just wait until they realize that the man aiming his gun at you is your father, and that the man's son is aiming his own gun at him. How's that for soap opera?

When Niragi is finally close enough to the man to have the muzzle of his rifle pressed against the nape of his neck, he finally snarls, "Get the fuck away from her. Now."

The man only laughs, not moving an inch or lowering his weapon. You don't move either, still standing and staring straight forward. Terrified and further traumatized. "Niragi! If this isn't just one big, wonderful family reunion!"

Niragi can hear his pulse in his ears, barely breathing. Family, his ass. "Get your fucking gun away from my sister's head," he manages, somehow keeping a level tone though he's stressed beyond any stress he's ever known before.

"You wouldn't shoot your father," the man mocks. Niragi had almost forgotten how good the man was at getting under his skin.

Niragi clicks his tongue in annoyance, "You don't fucking know me anymore, or what I'm capable of. And you aren't my father. You certainly aren't hers." The thought of him even considering taking credit for being a decent parent to you makes your brother's insides burn hot with rage.

Your father cackles at this, finally turning around to look at his son, Niragi's rifle now pointed directly between his eyes. "Oh, so let me get this straight. YOU think you're her father now, right?" Niragi narrows his eyes at the man, breathing deeply to maintain control. He cannot afford to fuck up in front of you again.

With your father distracted now, you flee to Chishiya, who gratefully grabs onto you and pulls you close to him. Short lived relief. Niragi's eyes flick briefly to take in your appearance, are you okay? You do look scared, standing there looking tiny with tears in your eyes. He recognizes this version of you, just like when you were a child. He looks back to your father as the man speaks again.

"How sweet! Chishiya, it's good to see you here too! Tell me, son of mine, if you've done such a good job as a father figure, why did she run to Chishiya and not you, hm?" His falsely cheerful voice made Niragi want to throw up. An outsider would no doubt be fooled by how sweet and excited he sounded when talking to his children, but everyone knows that not all things venomous look or sound like a hazard. That was very much the case here.

Realistically, you ran to Chishiya because he was in your line of sight, and you would have to cross your father's path to get to Niragi. But still, your father knew what he was doing - that comment still stung. Niragi doesn't take his gaze off the man, doesn't falter for a second. He couldn't believe that he was facing the source of all the pain and trauma in your lives again. The person he was now no different than.

Niragi could easily pull the trigger, right here and right now. But then you'd be forced to watch your father die right at your feet, at the hands of your brother who you already didn't trust anymore. Could your relationship ever recover from that? At the very least, he couldn't subject you to that trauma.

And so, without taking his eyes off your father's cold glare, twin sets of blackened eyes staring like mirrors at one another, Niragi speaks to you, "Sweetheart, go inside."

You were quick on the uptake and you knew exactly what your brother was asking. From his periphery he could see you shaking your head rapidly, lower lip trembling, "No," you mumble weakly. Niragi blinks slowly, willing his frustration to not drown him again. No, don't do what you're thinking of doing.

"Chishiya," the man warns in a cold voice, eyes still frozen in a standoff against your father, demanding the blonde to get you out of here. No additional instructions required.

"I'm sorry, baby," Chishiya whispers to you, grabbing onto your wrists and pulling you with him inside as you try to squirm and kick away from him. Your brother felt a little bit bad exploiting your relationship with your best friend, but to hell with it at this point. Whatever kept you safe.

"Niragi! Don't. Please don't do it, it will ruin you! He's not worth it!" You shriek at the top of your lungs, now almost across the pool deck as your entourage follows you and Chishiya back into the hotel. "You're still a good person, Niragi. Don't let him take that from you, please!" You sobbed, pleading with your brother. If the citizens of The Beach weren't looking, they definitely were now. It doesn't get much more entertaining than this in Borderland.

Niragi hesitates at this, lowering his rifle slightly in consideration of your words. You didn't care about your father's life - how could you? With the things that he had done, he deserved to die. No, it was Niragi that you worried about, that you didn't want to see destroyed by killing him. The man very nearly heeded your words, wanting desperately to follow you and your friends into the hotel too.

But Niragi was already ruined. And it was worth it for him to lose you completely if it at least meant your abuser would never be able to touch you again.

And so he raises his rifle again. Your father laughs, an ironic, dead sound rattling in his chest. "Like father, like son, then huh? You're just as bad of a person as I am," he barks out almost gleefully. Was he? He was.

And Niragi was okay with it.

Because he could save you. He could end the life of your abuser, then keep himself away from you too. You'd finally be safe, from both of them. Chishiya would keep you safe. You would keep you safe. You'd proven your strength and resilience time and time again, you would be okay.

Pointer finger on the trigger, he's made his decision. This is worth throwing himself into the depths of the darkness for, this is worth losing you for. It will ensure your safety, finally. Your father just grins sinisterly, accepting his fate. Likely he knows that even his death will cause suffering between the two of you, so that's enough for him. One last fuck you before he goes out.

"Niragi! I see you've met Katashi!" Hatter's obnoxious voice slices through the tension at the pool like a knife. The man strides confidently up to the two, placing a hand on one shoulder of each. "Katashi here saved my life in a game, much like you did weeks ago!" Hatter laughs, looking curiously at Niragi's rifle, which he had lowered a tiny bit. "You're not trying to kill each other, are you? Katashi is quite important to me, you know. He's going to make a fine militant for The Beach!"

Niragi feels his chest tighten and stomach sink, "Fucking hell," he mumbles under his breath, looking away and attempting to step away from Hatter's iron grip. How could they have possibly felt your father was fit to be parading around the resort with a weapon?

Your father smiles toothily, now directed at Hatter. "We were just getting acquainted," he assures, "Right, Niragi?" The man felt his eye twitch, FUCK this. More impossible people, more impossible games.

Things were truly going to hell in a hand basket, variables starting to stack up against him. It was too soon to initiate the plan and get you out of here, but the man felt his hands being tied.

You would both be living with your abuser at The Beach for at least another week, and the man was armed. He was already prepared to kill you at the fucking pool, for fuck's sake. Niragi would be forced to change his tactics, to up the ante of the game he was playing. Though he was certain you wanted nothing to do with him right now, it didn't matter - you wouldn't be out of his sight again. What else could he do?

Niragi huffs, quickly pushing out all of the anger and terror that had built up over the last couple of minutes. He cradles his rifle back against his shoulder, attempting to look as nonchalant as possible. Prepared to walk away, your brother pauses only for a moment to say one last thing to Hatter.

"You have absolutely no idea what you have done, do you?"

This would all but ensure the collapse of The Beach. There were a lot of dominoes that were about to topple over in this chaos. After all, it was either you and Niragi, or your father. You wouldn't all make it out alive.

♤ ♡ ◇ ♧

Previous Chapter

The Game Itself Masterlist

The Game Itself Tag List: @moonchild323232 @princesskatxo @lovelygias @carlgrimesfuturegf @audiiix @maxinehufflepuffprincess @aeristocrats @unhinged-sorcerer @potato-vagina @kimsrie @mocchii-writes @rillianeswife @baizhumylove

Please don't hesitate to let me know if you want to be added to (or removed from) the tag list! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter-let/dive into madness with Niragi 🤣 Hoping to release Chapter VII this weekend as well 😘 ILY guys endlessly 💕

[clairesblouse]

Whispers of the Sea │Chapter 12.

│Chapter 11・Chapter 12・Chapter 13

│Masterlist of "Whispers of the Sea" (Not finished)

│rafe cameron・Social Media AU / IRL 5.5k words.

│summary・"Whispers of the Sea" breathes life into forgotten memories through wistful poems and hidden truths. Drawn to it's words, Rafe finds himself chasing echoes of a past he can’t fully recall. The anonymous blogger is the childhood friend forgotten in time. Rafe searches for the pieces of a forgotten puzzle, trying to make sense of the storm brewing in his mind, while his heart fills with the poems of the girl he once adored.

│pairing・Ex-childhoodfriend!Rafe Cameron x Poet/Blogger!Female oc/reader

Her soul and mind longed for the old days. She could still hear the echoes of her laughter in that empty house. It was as if life had lost its color. Sunsets looked colder, the cereal she ate every morning had no taste. Maybe this was what growing up felt like.

No one had prepared her for life, and maybe she never would be ready for it. It felt like walking along a path lit by candles, only for a sudden gust of wind to snuff out her guide. Just the thought that, at some point, she might end up alone made her chest tighten. Watching her parents go through this, seeing people who didn’t deserve to suffer in that way, broke her heart. It wasn’t just her family’s constant fight to stay afloat, it was everyone in Outer Banks, at the mercy of the rich, begging for scraps of stability.

Normally, she would go out for a walk, write, talk to her friends. But now, it felt like a train had run over her, leaving only an overwhelming nostalgia in its wake. She could feel the sun on her face through the curtains, untouched for days. A dull ringing in her ears reminded her that the house was anything but silent. Her parents’ indifferent voices had filled the space since early that morning. Now, the sun was setting. She was hungry. Too hungry. With almost no options, her feet carried her to the kitchen.

When her mother saw her, her expression shifted into something unreadable, a mixture of surprise, relief, and something else. Maybe sadness. None of them were okay.

“Honey” Her own voice came out sluggish, sticky. “I’m hungry.” If she hadn’t said it herself, she wouldn’t have understood the words. “Are you feeling alright?” her father asked. Their eyes met, and in his, she saw exhaustion. In hers, anger. She didn’t mean to, of course she didn’t. The last thing she wanted was to make him feel guilty for something beyond his control. But she wished he had told her sooner. She could have helped.

"Fine"

For the next five minutes, her presence became the center of attention. She walked to the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water, filled her glass to the brim, and sat on the other side of the kitchen island. She drank in silence.

"I thought you were hungry."

"I am." She closed her eyes for a second. "I think I’ll go for a walk."

"Where?"

"The beach." She said nothing more.

"I'll give you money."

"Mom, n—"

"Shut up." Her mother stepped closer, one hand on her shoulder, the other brushing against her face. Behind those tired eyes, she could still see her little girl. "Stop doing this to yourself. We know you. Go for a walk, eat something nice. Don’t worry about it. Everything’s going to be alright. We’ll be alright."

What if they weren’t?

She left as quickly as she had arrived.

The beach wasn’t far. In a blink, warm sand slipped into her shoes. She could hear the distant cries of seagulls blending with the laughter of children and the steady crash of waves, sounds she could listen to for the rest of her life. She lived right at the dividing line between the Kooks and the Pogues. That meant the beach was rarely a safe place. When families were enjoying their day, problems felt distant. But on surf afternoons or party nights, showing up there was a guaranteed visit to the police station. Because, of course, the Kooks were never the problem.

A ball rolled past her feet. And speaking of the devil, a group of boys she had gone to elementary school with ran by, shoving each other, throwing playful punches, laughing. Rich laughter. White, rich teeth. She hated them. Hated how their lives were planned out and secure. How just by existing, they never had to think about anyone but themselves.

She hugged herself. She had brought her small bag with only the essentials, her Polaroid camera, her journal, a pencil. But nothing felt worth writing about. She didn’t even have the energy to try. Only the sun disappearing behind the waves seemed worthy of capturing through the weak lens of her camera.

The first picture was blurry. The second, too bright. The third—perfect.

She waited for it to develop.

Not perfect.

Rafe.

Rafe?

She lifted her gaze.

And there he was. In her picture. And in front of her eyes. As if he had stepped straight out of a movie. His presence filled the space, just like always. Like he was the king of the world. He was smiling. And suddenly, the rich laughter and white teeth didn’t bother her as much. But something did. The sharp sting in her chest.

Had she, without realizing it, followed a silent plan to avoid him? To wait until their lives went separate ways, so that in the future, his existence would only be a vague memory. Something hovering between imagination and desire? A daydream to fill the emptiness in her life?

But he was real. Too real. Flesh and bone that would haunt her.

Without thinking, she took another picture. Two seconds later, Rafe was gone. She clearly was nothing but an invisible ghost in his world. His eyes. His important and ambitious eyes. She gathered the broken pieces of her heart from that beach and walked home, more shattered than before.

With a single shout, she let her parents know she was back. She dropped the money her mother had given her on the entryway table and took the same path she did every day, to her room. She laid the photos from that afternoon on her bed. Studied them. Picked up her phone, which had been charging. Opened the camera. She captured the moment.

In the center of it all was Rafe’s picture.

Like a star at the heart of a solar system.

And in the blink of an eye, the photo of the boy who ruled her poetry was now eternalized on her blog.

jo's notes: hey haha. let me know what you think about whispers!! (the song has nothing to do with the chap, i just like it)

│whispers of the sea has a taglist! if you want to be added, let me know and keep interacting with the posts to stay on it!

taglist: @pinkyqily @frankoceanluvr11 @urbrunettebombshell @angelicameron @lovepaleandying

@littlefreak-liz @rafeswhoooreee @inthelibrarybtw @c1gsafterwhat @rafecameronswifeyy

[mins-fins]

remember summer days !

"i love summer because i love you.."

synopsis: forever going beaches, aggressive seagulls, brain freezing ice cream, many many shots, summer vacation is simply two months where you can be as reckless as possible without scathing schoolwork and the crushing feeling of student loans on your back, your two months to be an idiot without the worry of missing your morning classes due to hangovers, but there's something different about this summer. why didn't anyone tell mark that he could've possibly fallen in love with his best friend over the course of two months? who knew that you were really the one the whole time?

pairing: mark lee x male!reader

genre: university au, summer romance, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, light angst, humor(?), mutual pining, kinda sort of kinda suggestive, mainly mark pov

warnings: swearing, explicit language, sexual jokes, implications of sex but no smut, mentions of sexual harassment, smoking & alcohol consumption, complicated feelings, pathetic best friends are in love with each other but are dumb and don't realize until 15 years too late

word count: 15.9k

notes: the way i convinced myself i was never going to finish this and itd just become send in the clowns pt.2 😭 after the trials and tribulations of life, and hospital visit after hospital visit, i have finally posted something above 10k words!! applause!! (crickets) this has been in the drafts for FOUR MONTHS.. since march 10th ive been pressuring myself to finish, i literally finished endless nameless before this.. what kind of work ethic is that? also this was supposed to be sooooo much sadder and the og ending was supposed to bring tears BUT i am a saint and decided to not put you guys through torture bc most of my mark works are angsty anyway and because user junjiie would block me if i ever put him through another mark angst fest again 😁 speaking of user junjiie, thank you for listening to everything that i spout in your inbox.. your the best 🫶 and if youve ever wanted to kiss mark, your in the right place 👍

THE RUSHING OF THE OCEAN BEFORE him is all that's present in marks ears. the sand in his shoes don't register in his mind, nor do the seagulls eating bread right in front of him, just the ocean. the ocean is beautiful, a serene endless reservoir, one mark wishes he could just jump into and never leave. he can't focus on anything else around him, not the upcoming sunset, not the squawking birds, not the people muttering about the eventide, not even how beautiful his surroundings are, the ocean is his main center of attention, and mark spends so much time admiring it. the ocean is beautiful, it's monumental, mark can't exactly put it into more words, he might run out almost immediately. in moments like these, it doesn't matter the words he uses, it's just being immersed in the scenery that matters.

"hello? earth to lee minhyung!"

mark flinches, but his shoulders quickly relax when he sees who the yeller was. it's just you. annoying, absentminded, angel faced you, a small smile makes itself present on your features as you finally catch the formerly spaced out male's attention.

"thank god, for a moment there i thought you were gone".

mark doesn't find himself snickering at your words, he instead gives you that 'really?' stare, it's not that your joke wasn't funny, he just doesn't have the energy to laugh. "why are you even yelling? were on a public beach, idiot".

mark mutters the last word, but he knows you heard it anyway because you put your arm around him and pinch him in his shoulder as payback. he winces at the pain, you and your unusually strong fingers, you just smile in victory.

oh you, always so eager for revenge.

"you were staring at the ocean like it was your one true love, what? were you imagining hyuck or something?"

mark doesn't even know when the two of you began walking, but he isn't exactly focused on that, or your teasing words which hint at something that is completely false, he's more focused on how breathtaking you are.

mark would never say it's..anything not platonic. sometimes, though, he can't help but focus on just how amazing your features compliment you. you always look beautiful like this, in lightings like this is what he means.

mark isn't an idiot, he can acknowledge how attractive you are, even if you always tease him whenever he compliments you.

"i was just admiring it, why does there always have to be something more with you?" his quick rebuttal doesn't make it past you so easily, but you decide to go easy on mark, you can't just tease him the whole time, or you'll just start going back and forth.

"because, you're always so extra, there's no reason you should be staring at the ocean like you want to kiss it or something".

mark rolls his eyes, you're so stupid, you always have something to say, your mind must be so full of things, considering you constantly have a reply for mark locked and loaded, ready to go. "you can't even try to go easy on me?"

"nope, you know me, annoying you is the best part of my day!"

mark does know, it's like you've made it your life mission to never let him live anything down the moment you two met at a random park in vancouver when you were just little kids trying to figure out how to navigate the world. whether it was you following mark home, teasing him after beating him at basketball, or you were making fun of the way he styled his hair that day, you've never allowed mark lee to exist peacefully since you two decided to cross paths.

even as adults, adults who are studying to get bachelor's degrees, who pay their own bills, who can now legally drink, and who don't need parental consent to do anything anymore, you'll still never let mark live anything down.

it's fun to annoy you! you always tell mark, a tormenting on your face as giggles escaped your lips.

"i wish i didn't know you".

you manage a gasp of fake offense, placing a hand on your chest in pure shock. mark seems pleased, he shakes out of your hold and begins walking forward, leaving you and your dramatics behind.

you snicker, raising an eyebrow. you quickly catch up to him, hands shoved into your pockets as you give your best friend that familiar taunting smile, the one you know that he can't stand. "you're so mean to me, minhyung".

mark just scoffs, trying his best to ignore you. you don't take that, though, instead walking right up to him and lacing your fingers together. "don't ignore me".

please, mark wishes he could.

"you're annoying".

that familiar taunting smile comes to your lips, a soar of victory in your chest. "i know" you reply simply, squeezing his hand. "now do you wanna watch the sunset or what?"

it's only now that the realization dawns on mark, the sunset, how could he even forget?

to be fair, it's hard to focus on the sunset when your gorgeous best friend is holding your hand staring at your lips—

"you dummy" you say almost immediately. "you were the one who kept pestering me about the sunset and you forgot?"

"i was focused on other things.."

"let me guess" you pretend to think, fingers still intertwined with marks as you pull him and the two of you begin walking back towards the beach you'd walked away from. "you were too focused on my alluring beauty?"

mark shoves you with his shoulder. "you wish".

"i don't have to wish, you think i'm the prettiest boy in the world".

you do have a knack for the dramatics. mark doesn't know how many more eye rolls he can do before you realize he isn't exactly lying about finding you attractive, he just would never admit it to your face, one: because he doesn't want to stroke your ego, and two: he truly doesn't have the balls to.

"please, get over yourself".

"it's not my fault you want to kiss me so bad, you have the perfect opportunity to anywa—"

mark immediately shoves your face away when you pucker your lips and try to lean closer. "ew no, you probably taste like cigarettes".

mark finally snakes out of your hold, walking ahead of you and back towards the beach. his face is red, only heating up more as he hears your tormenting giggles.

how do you even have an affect like this on him? he'll never know, but he'll continue standing his ground.

mark lee will never admit to your face that he's attracted to you, or that he wants to kiss you, or that you're probably the prettiest boy he's ever met.

mark lee doesn't have the confidence to admit any of that to your face.

MARK ALWAYS MAKES THE MISTAKE OF UNDERESTIMATING your alcohol tolerance. back to back drinks seem to be your thing, and he has no idea how you can even do that without even feeling like you're going to throw up. mark feels nauseous just watching the whole thing go down, but he's gotten used to the unpredictability of your character, so the idea of you being this "crazy drinker" isn't exactly a far fetched kind of claim, you don't even get offended when people say it anymore. you seem to enjoy fully embracing the insults you get from people, it's kind of admirable.. in a sense? mark doesn't know how to explain it, because it sounds stupid when put into words.

"sir can i have one mor—"

"oh no! no no no! no more drinks for you" mark immediately cuts you off, putting his arm around your shoulder to support you. he smiles politely at the man behind the counter, and he helps you stand up, ignoring your disagreeing whines. "my apologies, we'll be heading out now".

"mark!" you whine, stretching the letters of his name whilst letting your body fall against his. "you can't do this to me, i wasn't done yet" your drunken complaints fall deaf on mark's ears, and he pulls you back up once again, your arm coming up to wrap around his waist. he's basically supporting your whole body, as you can barely even walk yourself.

"it's two in the morning, y/n" mark states, but you don't really care, you just pout. "you can't afford to drink anymore, you're going to die if you keep drinking like this".

"if i die at least i'll die beautiful".

your words slur together in an idiotic way, and you laugh like you're the most hilarious person in the world. you lean against mark, letting him carry you through the streets of jeju, closing your eyes. "yeah well, if you think i'm letting you intoxicate yourself to the point of blacking out, you're out of your mind".

"because you are so in love with me?"

"no, because you're my best friend".

and maybe i am just a little in love with you, but that isn't important right now.

"sure, keep telling yourself that mark lee".

mark hates when you get drunk like this, because it's like the moment the alcohol sinks into your system, you become a mind reader. you can always seem to tell what's going on with mark when your drunk out of your mind, like you just reach into his brain and pull out his biggest secrets.

he never knows how you do it, or how you just magically forget everything you say when your sober (he's actually grateful you do, because the kind of stuff you say when your drunk should stay like that, drunk remarks).

"i can walk on my own, you know.." you mutter, clearly very out of it. the words only make mark's arm tighten around you, he cannot afford to let you go, because you're going to collapse onto the street and never be able to pick yourself up. he doesn't care about your complaints, your whining, or how you're trying to separate yourself from him, he only has one goal, to make sure you get back to the house, and get to bed. "you don't need to carry me".

"your legs are practically useless right now, y/n, don't argue with me" mark somehow manages to hold you up with one arm as he rummages through his pocket, looking for the keys to the house. you clearly want to argue with him, but you can't, instead slumping to the side and pouting.

finally, mark finds the keys to the house and unlocks the door, hoisting you up and helping you step in. "you're like my prince charming, you know that markie?"

you sound like your going insane, you always get like this when your drunk. mark thinks he doesn't mind that much, your extra hilarious when drunk, even with how annoying you are when your wasted (not like you aren't also annoying when sober).

"that's nice, y/n" you whine once again when mark lets go of you, but you let yourself fall back onto the couch, curling onto it and wrapping your arms around your own waist, suddenly chilly.

"are you cold?"

there's a certain tone of disbelief in mark's voice, and you guess he has a point. it's mid-july, the two of you are on an island, and all temperatures are high right now, how could you even be cold?

"just kinda chilly.."

"in the middle of july?" mark questions, focused on his mission of searching for cups in the kitchen cupboards. he needs to help you sober up, or maybe he'll just let you go to sleep like this (actually he can't, you'd complain all morning if you woke up with such a hangover).

"i can't control the random chills i get, mark" you seem to enjoy whining about stupid things. you tighten your own hold around your waist, as if trying to heat up your own body yourself. "it's like elsa's living here or something".

"okay you big baby" mark responds, walking up to you and handing a glass of water. you stare at the cup for a good minute or so before finally taking it, though you can't exactly stomach water at the moment, you appreciate how much mark is doing for you. "get better and go to sleep".

you still feel just a little nauseous, and you realize back to back drinks for hours probably wasn't the best idea. you cover your face with your hands, yet another complaining whine escaping your lips. "it's not as easy as it sounds, minhyung".

"you could at least drink the water, appreciate my efforts".

"i do appreciate your efforts, i just feel like i'm about to throw up".

"that's what you get for doing all of that drinking".

you have no more energy to argue with your best friend, instead turning over and making yourself comfortable on the couch, your head placed on his lap. "yeah yeah, whatever smartass, now let me sleep.."

mark chuckles. "you don't want to go to your room?"

"no, your my pillow now, you legally have to stay here".

mark raises an eyebrow, amused by your sudden change of heart. "legally?"

"yes legally, now be quiet and let me sleep".

mark shuts his mouth, not only because he doesn't want to argue with you, but because you did really need this sleep.

he doesn't mind this, he decides.

"WHAT ARE YOU WATCHING?" MARK LOOKS UP UPON hearing your inquiry, his eyes finally moving away from his computer and focusing on you. your hair is messy, he assumes from the roughness you used when drying it, and your clothes look comfy. it's that pajama set yuta got you for your birthday that you swore you hated and would never wear ever. he laughs in his head at the fact, but then he focuses back on you, realizing he indeed does have a question to answer. "grey's anatomy" he answers just as unnaturally as he thought he would, he internally cringes at the fact. you raise an eyebrow, clearly questioning the show choice, but you make your way over to him anyway, the closer you get, the better mark can see you, your features practically glow in the dimly lit room.

"grey's anatomy? i didn't even know you liked that show.." you make space for yourself beside mark and prop yourself up on your elbows, eyes narrowing at his laptop screen. mark just lets you, it's been a long day, despite it being summer, mark still has so much to do, he never truly gets breaks.

"i don't really like it, it's kinda just a guilty pleasure" he replies, gesturing towards his computer. "cristina's the best character.."

"your just saying that because she's the only characters name you remember".

mark snorts, lightly nudging you. "are you really going to stay here with me?"

you give him a dumbfounded look, as if that was possibly the dumbest question he could've asked ever. "why would i not? would you prefer for me to ignore you while we're on vacation together? i wanna spend time with my best friend.."

mark hums, clasping his hands together. your words have an unchecked effect on him, a small red hue spreading across his cheeks. the words are so simple, so they shouldn't be having him react like this, he feels like he's going insane.

why do you make him feel like this?

mark never gets it with you.

you're just his best friend, you two have been together since you were six, it's crazy how even through all the crazy stuff that's happened in your lives, the two of you have somehow managed to survive, even with all odds stacked against you.

mark has to admit, you two aren't the most.. normal of a pair? there are times the two of you didn't talk for months, times where you couldn't even stand each other, but then are also times like this, times where you two are just regular best friends who do regular best friend things.

best friends hold hands.

best friends match jewelry.

best friends occasionally share a bed and wrap themselves in each other's arm whilst sleeping.

and best friends look at each other with the same kind of love admiration mark looks at you with.

when have you ever been anything more than friends? there has never been a romantic element there as far as mark knows. yeah you always make stupid jokes about the two of you being a couple, but you've never said anything which could imply that, and even if you are in love with him, you've never tried to act on those desires, not physically at least.

mark's never seen the way the two of you act to be weird, he could never get why other people always looked at you weird, like they knew something the two of you didn't.

and it's even weirder because your guys' other friends do the same thing, the shifty glances, the unnecessary eyebrow raising, and the stupid giggles.

mark remembers this one time jungwoo said this thing, and it's stuck with him ever since.

"what's with you and y/n?"

the question came out of nowhere, mark had been focused on some writing assignment he'd left to the last minute, sitting at the kitchen counter as he tried to figure out what huge words he could use to make himself sound sophisticated. "what do you mean?"

"you and y/n, you guys are weird, i can't tell if you're trying to look your dating or are actually a couple".

the statement came off as shocking to mark, why would he even begin to think that? when have you two ever come off as a couple? he has no idea..

"you're ridiculous, y/n and i aren't trying to look like we're dating".

mark said those words with confidence, but he doesn't even know if he's genuinely sure about that.

"yeah, sure" jungwoo scoffed, he has no faith in mark at all. "maybe you think you aren't, but he's surely trying to, he's literally so in love with you it's insane".

mark paused, thinking about it. maybe he just doesn't pay much attention to it, or maybe jungwoo was just making stuff up, he does really enjoy lying. "you might be crazy".

"i'm not! excuse my language, mark, but it is so obvious that y/n likes you, he wants to fuck you so bad it's disgusting!"

marks eyebrows furrowed, and he gave jungwoo that familiar 'are you serious?' look.

"y/n wants to fuck me?"

"oh he definitely does! he isn't even trying to hide it".

mark thinks all of your guys' friends must be crazy, experiencing a shared hysteria or something. you two don't act weird, your just how you always are.

"so?"

mark remembers this other thing as well, it was about a month before school ended, and he was sat on johnny's living room floor, flipping through the boring tv channels, trying to find anything interesting to watch. "so what?"

"what are you doing this summer?" the older asked, there was a clear annoyance in his voice, mark guesses it's because he had to ask the question like seven times. "any good plans?"

mark's fingers continued to click the remote, he doesn't remember what channel he was looking for, but he remembers shrugging in response to johnny's question. "not sure yet, y/n said he wanted the two of us to go somewhere together, but he hasn't really gotten back to me on that".

at the mere mention of you, a small laugh sounded from johnny, and mark noticed it enough that he paused his channel flipping. "y/n?"

"yes y/n, as in my best friend y/n, whose also your friend?"

"jesus that guys like, obsessed with you".

the words caused for mark to respond with his signature weird glance, he looked at johnny as if the older had just placed a curse on his entire family. "where is this coming from?"

"i just have eyes, mark, are you two really best friends? or have you just not discovered how you actually feel for each other?"

that was so strange.

mark immediately wanted to deny all of it, his eyes moved away from johnny and back to the tv, but he wasn't really focused on the tv, trying to find a response to the words that struck him like a punch to the gut. "i have no idea what your talking about".

"well i'm just saying what everyone else is saying".

and yeah, maybe mark's an idiot for not taking any of those words into account, but he doesn't really have to! if you were so in love with him like everyone assumed, you'd tell him, right? you two always tell each other what's going on in your lives, and that's to like, a concerning rate.

if you were in love with mark, you'd tell him, because what use is there in keeping such a big secret?

there's a lot of them, actually, mark, but you know y/n would never do that to you, he'd never.

MARK IS SLEEPLESS, LIKE— VERY. for the past few hours, all he's done is toss and turn in the same direction for who knows how long. his blanket is on the floor, but he doesn't exactly remember putting it there. he probably threw it off his bed during one of his many tossing fits a good couple hours ago. he groans, just accepting that he's not getting any sleep tonight. after hours of refusing to leave his bed, mark stretches his limbs, finally sitting up and swinging out of his bed since he got into it like four hours ago. no one whose on vacation sleeps early, but mark had assumed the exhaustion in his body would aid in helping him doze off, but his body is a weird one, so he hurriedly makes his way out of his room, suddenly craving water.

mark regrets choosing the room with the huge window right in front of the beach, yeah it's nice and everything but in the middle of the night, waking up the sound of the rushing ocean is just the slightest bit anxiety inducing, especially when he's in the middle of some horrible nightmare.

mark's feet take him directly where he wants to go, the kitchen, he needs a glass of water, maybe two, maybe three, heck— maybe seven. he doesn't think much about not seeing you, he just assumes you had better luck than him in the sleep department.

he only gets distracted on his walk when he hears a small sound, the sound of something hitting against the wall. he pauses in his steps, listening in to see if what he was hearing was actually real. it's silent for a few seconds, but then mark hears it again, the sound of something slamming against the wall.

it's coming from your room.

mark furrows his eyebrows, puzzled. now totally unfocused on his current goal, mark turns around and heads in the direction of your room, anxieties amping up as his mind begins thinking of horrible things.

god please don't be hurt please don't be hurt please please please please—

when mark peaks his head through your door, he's met with a strange sight. a clearly asleep you, muttering nonsense to yourself as you continuously weak into your dresser, bumping against it, then causing for it to bump against the wall. oh, mark gets it, your sleepwalking.

he sighs in relief, at least you aren't injured or something. he steps into the room, making his way towards you, he makes sure that he doesn't make too much noise walking, he doesn't want you to have some visceral reaction.

he gently taps your shoulder. "y/n".

no answer, you just walk into your dresser again.

"y/n" mark calls out again, but you don't answer him, just continue muttering to yourself as you walk into your dresser again, bumping roughly against it, causing for mark to wince, as if he was the one to collide with the dresser. he places both hands on your shoulder, turning you around to face him.

"y/n".

that seems to do the trick, because you startle out of your state, a gasp accompanying your actions. your startled state startles mark as well, whose hands quickly remove themselves from your shoulders. "okay okay, calm down, it's just me" his voice does calm you down, nothing else can be heard in the room besides the breathing of you two and the faint running of the ocean outside.

"oh, holy shit, what did i— what was that?"

mark has been through this with you many times before, he knows how to deal with stuff like this, he's gotten very in tune with your habits. "you were sleepwalking, y/n" he replies, and a look of disappointment settles on your face.

"again? ugh i thought i got rid of that stupid habit" you cover your face with your hands, stressed. "i didn't do anything crazy right? like.. turn on the oven? start the car? unlock the door?"

"no no, none of that" mark is weirded out. seeing the usually energetic, playful, joking you be so stressed, your voice so low compared to your usual shouting. he worries about you, a lot, so he puts his hand on your shoulder again. "seriously it's fine, you were just walking into your dresser and mumbling some unintelligible shit, that's all".

you don't seem to enjoy the sound of that, seeing as how you freeze at the words, only frowning once again. mark, like always, notices your change in behavior, and he instinctively carts his hand through your hair. he originally doesn't know why he does it, but you don't seem to mind, you settle into the touch even, comforted by it.

"do you?.. maybe we should go on a walk on the beach? just to clear your mind, you know.."

he continues to run his hand through your hair. mark loves your hair, it's pretty, soft, and you never really dye it, so it always looks as good as new. you consider his words, taking in a breath. "no i just— i just need water".

water, that's all you need.

mark can do that, it's not like your asking him to bring the stars to you (but mark would, he would go thousands of miles, travel galaxies to make sure you were happy), you just want water. mark stops his hair caressing, his hand moving down to yours, where he intertwines your fingers. you give a small smile as he does so, but mark doesn't see it, he's much too focused on making sure you get your water.

you stay silent, which is so strange to mark. you talk a lot, you love talking, talking mark's ear off is on the list of things you have to do during your day. "just water? that's it".

you frown when mark lets go of your hand, missing the small act of affection. "yeah" you whisper. "just water".

mark gets you exactly that, water, and the two of you sit in a comfortable silence at the kitchen counter. none of you talking. the sound of the ocean waves crashing against each other meet both your ears, but none of you say anything, just sit there with a now empty cup between you two.

"everything good now?" mark asks, he just needs to make sure, seeing you like this is so unfamiliar, it makes him overly anxious.

"yeah yeah everything is fine".

"you sure?" mark needs extra confirmation, extra reassurance from you that you're okay, he wants for you to talk to him, tell him what's going on with you, because mark is your best friend, and he has to help you with these things. "you can tell me anything, you know".

"mark" you say softly, and mark doesn't know why, but his stomach flips. the way you say his name suddenly makes his cheeks go red, eyes widen, and lips part lightly. you shouldn't be affecting him like this, but you do, because it's you, you always do this to him. "yes i'm sure, if something was going on with me, i'd tell you".

of course, because the two of are best friends, you would never hide something serious from him, you know he can always help you, he will always help you.

"alright, i'm holding you to that".

you hum at his words, picking at your nails. "you better".

"THAT GUY IS CUTE" THE WORDS MAKE MARK'S HEAD shoot up, and the moment he glances at you, that uncomfortable feeling comes to his stomach. you aren't looking at him, making mark assume that you weren't saying the words to him, but to yourself. like you meant to say them in your head but ended up muttering them out loud. mark's eyebrows immediately furrow, trying to figure out what guy you're talking about. when he looks in the direction you're looking, he notices the guy your referring to. he narrows his eyes at his figure, and while he can agree, the guy is what he would consider conventionally attractive, he has no idea why you're calling him cute in the first place. "which guy?"

you deadpan at him, lightly smacking his arm. "the guy right there mark, the one wearing the white stripes shirt".

mark blinks, rubbing the place in his arm where you hit him. he doesn't know why he feels so weird, this has never happened to him before, you talk about cute guys all the time, this shouldn't be shocking to him at all.

but for some reason, the guy is really starting to piss him off, just even staring at him is irritating mark. the guy isn't that hot, he isn't even that attractive, his hair is messy, mark thinks that's gross.

"yeah yeah, he looks okay".

"okay?" you stare at mark like he just personally offended you with that statement, and you get furrowed eyebrows as a response. "he's gorgeous! a ten out of ten guy!"

"i mean— i guess he's kinda hot?" mark says those words in that questioning tone he always uses when you show him guys you might be into, he never gets your taste in men, because they're all either crazy, or they all look they just crawled out of a ditch. call him shallow or whatever, but he can't tell why a guy like you likes guys like that, you deserve someone more.. fitting.

someone like him preferably.

when his mind whispers the thought to him, mark struggles to jump from his chair. now why would he even think that? why couldn't he suppress that thought? why does he think he could be the perfect fit for you? it's not like he likes you or anything, so why did he even conjure up that thought?

"you have a horrible taste in men" you respond, but you don't even try to look at mark (which upsets him much more than he wants to admit), your attention is focused on the quote unquote, cute guy across from you, who seems to catch your eye, because you loudly gasp, hitting mark in the arm again. "did you see that!? he looked at me!"

no mark did not see that, he was much too focused on trying to calm down his flipping stomach. he hates that he feels like this, it's always with you isn't it? you don't pick up on how uncomfortable he is, though, because you're too busy freaking out over a "cute" boy glancing over at you.

"so what? you're overreacting".

mark realizes how harsh his words must've been when he sees your face fall immediately at his irritated tone. you finally look over at him, eyebrows furrowed together, and mark feels like he just committed the worst of crimes. there's an awkward silence that spreads between you two for a moment, but if you were upset, which you clearly looked like you were, you didn't say anything, you just shook your head and let out a snicker. "okay, fuck you, i'm freaking out because a cute guy just looked at me and—"

"that same cute guy whose checking you out?"

"HES WHAT!?"

your screech is enough to make mark almost fall out of his seat, he says those words with distaste, but you don't catch his tone, fortunate for him. you begin slapping his arm like crazy, excited out of your mind over this random guy staring at you. the idea annoys mark much more than it should, because why are you focusing on him so much? he isn't even that good looking, he hates it.

"oh my god! oh my god, mark! can you believe this? i might actually have some potential for an important romantic connection this summer!"

mark raises an eyebrow at the comment. "is that all you cared about when deciding to come on vacation with me?"

you look oddly offended at the inquiry, clearly weirded out by mark's sudden change in attitude. you tilt your head, mind immediately swaying away from the guy you'd been rambling about. "no! hey what's with you?"

oh no.

"what do you mean? i'm fine".

"no, you're using that tone with me".

mark curses you for knowing him so well, he knows exactly what you're talking about, his certain tone of irritation is one you'd grown accustomed to when you were children, as mark would use it all the time when he got especially annoyed by your antics. still, he gives a chuckle of disbelief. "what is that tone?"

you pause for a moment, thinking about your words, but then you straighten in your seat, lightly scoffing. "that tone of irritation you use when your annoyed by me, what? you hate your not the only guy who has my attention?"

mark prepares another snappy response to that, but he can't do that because you lean closer as you say those words, a smug grin playing on your lips as you do so. mark allows for himself to get engrossed in the sight of you close up. he then narrows his eyes, trying his best to act like he's unaffected by your stare. "no, oh my god get over yourself!"

mark is quick to push you away, stubbornly crossing his arms as he hopes you don't notice how pathetic those words sounded. you snicker, clearly feeling victorious as you were able to get a shout out of him. mark would punch you if he wasn't so distracted by your pretty laughter.

"uh huh, sure, you dream of me".

"you're so annoying, if you think the guy's so cute just go talk to him".

mark regrets saying that.

why did i say that? why the fuck did i say that? 

he doesn't want you to go talk to him, why would he even bring that up? he sees the expression on your face change, and mark immediately knows he messed up because you seem to be very on board with that idea. you look back over at the guy you'd been staring at prior, a smile coming to your face as you catch him looking back at you, watching the whole thing transpire just makes mark stomach flip uncomfortably.

"fine then, you told me to do it myself".

mark wishes he hadn't.

"good luck" he croaks out, trying his best to steady his voice as you blatantly ignore him to continue staring at the guy you're seemingly so infatuated with.

mark wants to throw up.

MARK TRULY UNDERESTIMATES HOW MUCH CAN happen in a week. life has always surprised him, strange things constantly transpire that he can't exactly explain no matter how much he tries. he also made the mistake of underestimating just how much you were into this "cute guy" (mark learned his name is kunwoo, a name he feels uneasy about), because after he stupidly told you to go over and talk to the guy you had been making eyes at, you two hit it off, a fact that made mark want to claw his own eyes out, to his very own confusion. he can't figure out why he's feeling so.. weird? it's not like he hasn't watched you hit it off with several guys during previous summer outings, or just in general, so why is it different now? it shouldn't be different now, nothing should be different.

but it is different now, for some unknown reason that mark can't think of no matter how much he tries to conjure it up in his mind, he doesn't like the guy you've now found yourself parading around. even with how into him you seem, mark can't help but gives his best tight lipped smile every time you bring him up.

mark won't tell you anything, he doesn't want to upset you, you genuinely seem so happy talking to him, who is he to tell you to not like a guy that he feels weird about? you're an adult, you can make your own decisions, he can't make you do anything you don't want to.

so what if mark has bad vibes about this guy your into? he's not going to tell you that or anything. he knows better than to spoil your fun, you deserve to have fun after your train wreck of a school year.

he doesn't want to be a bad friend.

"y/n? where are we going exactly?"

the minute the clock struck 12 (in the afternoon, mark has to clarify), you told him to get up because you were going to take him out. "out, mark, i told you this thousands of times already".

mark's eyebrows furrow, he has no idea why you would just drag him out of the beach house for no apparent reason. hand intertwined with his, merely muttering something about going out.

"so abruptly?" he inquires, your hand squeezing against his, lurching him closer towards you with a small tug.

"yes, take it as my apology for leaving you in the dust for all these days".

mark pauses at your words, they take him by surprise. it's not that he expected you to not notice he was down, you usually notice something's off before mark himself does, but he assumed you'd be so blinded by love that how he feels would be the furthest thing from your mind.

but who is mark kidding? you know him like the back of his hand. if he was upset, even if you were miles away, you'd be able to sense it. no matter how many men you attempt to court and date, none of them could really get you to forget about him.

your hand against his is soft, your tugs are nothing short of playful, and your smile is hidden, but it's there. "won't kunwoo be pissed?"

you narrow your eyes, face twisting into a puzzled expression. the look you give mark makes his stomach drop, but you don't pick up on that, because your focused on the mention of your newest boy toy. "why would he be?"

mark pauses, throat going dry as he feels your thumb grace his palm. "i don't know, he doesn't really seem to like me.."

your eyebrows furrow, then you giggle. "are you kidding? everyone likes you".

the words make mark pause, and he stares at you as if you healed all of his injuries with just your voice. maybe you couldn't see what he saw, but it was such a genuine response that he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. "i mean i guess you do have a point about that.."

mark looks down at the cemented ground, and you snort, nudging him with your shoulder.

"don't think about stuff like that, i have a date tonight anyway".

a date. mark's jaw almost clenches. that's terrific! he couldn't be anymore happier for you! his eye isn't twitching because he's pissed! it's not!

"oh" he croaks, suddenly feeling the need to squeeze your hand. if you suddenly notice his heightened emotions, you don't say anything. "a date, that's nice".

"mhm" you merely hum, lips pressed together as you turn around and again begin walking with mark by your side, hand in hand.

"where are you going?"

you scoff, playfully rolling your eyes. "enough about the date mark, it's just us now, let's focus on that okay?"

see? this is why mark lee doesn't get you.

you can't say things like that then just expect him to be fine. you can't stare at him like he's your entire world and not except for him to think you harbor something romantic for him. you can't just do all of that and just expect for mark to be okay.

because he isn't, and it's all because of your soggy looks, your pretty voice, your pretty smile. you make mark feel things he shouldn't feel for someone whose just his 'best friend'.

he looks down at your intertwined fingers, listening to your silent humming as you swing your laced hands back and forth. "alright, i can get behind that".

you snap out of your little zoning out session, your lips turning up at the reply. "good, now make me some guesses".

"what?"

"where do you think i'm taking you?"

mark again pauses, a soft breeze rushing past you two as the crashing ocean waves sound in your ears. "to some forest to murder me?"

you scoff, you'd give another roll of the eyes if not worried for seeming like a broken record. "no, stupid, if i wanted to murder you i would've done it ages ago".

mark responds with an incredulous gasp, tone full of feigned offense. "you would murder me? your best friend in the whole entire world with no pushback?"

"i don't know, guanheng seems adamant on stealing that spot.."

mark again gasps, but this time there's a little more genuine emotion there, floored at the idea of you replacing him. "hendery? really?"

"don't say that! he's cooler than you!"

a frown tugs at mark's lips, and he nudges you much harder than he intends to. you grunt in just the slightest, childishly sticking out your tongue. "you get jealous sooooo easily".

"shut up".

and of course, you don't.

MARK CAN BARELY FALL ASLEEP THAT NIGHT KNOWING your going on a date. the look in your eye really communicated to him that you weren't about to change your mind, when you're determined, you're determined, and nothing will ever deter you. he could barely control the bile threatening to force it's way up his throat as he wished you good luck, but he found it much easier to contain his feeling of irritation when he saw your smile, your smile is so pretty, mark wanted to become kunwoo in that moment, because the idea of him being the one who got to see it for the rest of the night was just ridiculous. oh right. he had no idea how long you were going to be gone for, what if you come back and he's already asleep? what if you stayed over at his place? what if you—

never mind, he doesn't want to think about that.

when you say bye for the night, you unexpectedly step forward and wrap your arms around mark. it's not like hugs between you two are rare or anything, it was just a tad bit surprising how sudden the embrace was, but it was still special, mark almost wanted to fall asleep in your arms.

"how long are you gonna be gone for?" he asked after you pulled away, brushing your hair out of your face as you thought about it for a moment.

you shrugged, lips pressed into a thin line. "i'm not sure, but you can go to sleep without me around, can't you?"

mark's face went red at the question, he looked guilty as a charged. "yes i can, i was just wondering".

you hummed, grabbing the keys from the kitchen counter, not saying another word to him as you began whistling a tune he couldn't exactly recognize. "be safe".

you blinked at him, eyebrows furrowing. "i will, mark".

"swear?"

"i swear".

mark smiled at you, taking a needed breath of relief. "okay, i love you".

those words came out of nowhere, mark still has no idea why he decided to say them, why he decided that would be the correct thing to say at the moment, but you didn't question it, simply snickered. "i love you too".

mark will forever keep that response in his dearest heart.

he tossed and turned for a while, the large window behind his bed greeting him to the harrowing sounds of the ocean. he doesn't remember how long it took for him to slip off into his slumber, but all he remembers is that he was still thinking of your smile when sleep took him away.

he must've been having an insanely good dream, because he didn't even hear the resounding whispers.

"mark".

nothing.

"mark".

mark grunts, but doesn't open his eyes. his lips part slightly as he feels a small tap land on his shoulder, he still doesn't answer though.

"melk".

he looks so into dreamland, you feel bad for trying to lift him from consciousness. he stirs, settling into the feeling of your nail dragging over his arm.

"markle" you drawl. "markie, mark".

cracking one eye open, mark finally looks at you without turning his head. "is the house on fire?" his words are sloppy, syllables all shuffled around.

"not yet, but i can keep trying if you want".

mark's mouth twitches, suppressing a smile, and you let out a sigh. "what time is it?"

"just past one".

"hm" mark rolls over with his eyes barely open, bumping into your sitting figure. he again opens his eyes, scanning you up and down. you're still in the outfit you left in, your thin sweater simply removed, eyes a noticeably red color that has his brows furrowing. "how was the date?"

you chuckle, and it's bitter enough to have mark's eyes now fully open, his body barely rising from his laying position. "fucking terrible".

mark blinks, rubbing his eyes as the exhaustion now doesn't seem to matter. "woah, what's that supposed to mean?"

you roll your eyes, somehow successfully hiding your sniffles along the way. "the guys i'm into always turn out to be such.. bastards".

mark is going to kill kunwoo.

"what did he do?"

"nothing, that's the problem" you reply, but then you laugh again. what exactly do you laugh at? your circumstances? your situation? the fact that you hate everything?

mark pauses, letting his exhaustion fester elsewhere as he sits up. "y/n.."

"i don't know, i guess i shouldn't have expected much from some cute guy i met while on vacation" you humor yourself with those words, snickering at the look you receive from mark. "don't look at me like that, i'm okay".

"your eyes are red" mark snaps his head towards you, almost pointing at your face with his finger.

a frown tugs at your lips. of course he noticed that, you were hoping he wouldn't bring it up. "it's fine, i'm alright".

you give your best smile, and though it would usually make mark smile, his face instead drops at the display. "don't say that, please give me a real smile".

the reply gets a small laugh out of you, which also gets a genuine smile out of you. a few giggles slip from your lips at the words, which, in turn, make mark's lips turn up. "okay okay, you got me".

oh mark loves seeing you smile.

mark hums, reaching his hand over to tuck your hair behind your ear. "you have a pretty smile".

you pause, lips threatening to turn up again at the words. it's not like mark doesn't say this all the time, he always compliments your smile, it just feels.. different now. you snort. "says you".

"let me compliment you".

"you do that all the time already".

the two of you slip into silence, mark's fingers still busying themselves in your hair. you stare, and he stares back. his eyes glance everywhere, you've always been pretty up close, your features are striking, mark could stare at your face for hours, ticking off each of your little facial features in pure admiration.

the tension in the air could be cut with a knife, but you two stay silent, as if in a competition to see who'll break and speak first. 

then, in an uncharacteristic move, you speak up.

"what do you want to do mark?"

"hm?" he glances down at your lips before his eyes quickly snap back up to stare into yours. he guesses that you're intently watching the movement of his eyes, something that mark probably would've noticed himself if it was you doing it.

"you want to do something".

mark sucks his teeth. "i want to kiss you".

the words fall from his lips much too quickly, and mark almost feels like a robot saying them, but he couldn't contain his honesty anymore. you raise an eyebrow, cheeks dusted red. "do you?"

your smiling again, and mark can't decipher what might be going through your head. he nods, suddenly rendered speechless. "..yeah, so much" his voice almost trails off into a whine, god how pathetic is that?

you hum, shoulders slumping. "what's stopping you?"

mark's mouth feels bitter, and his tooth sinks into his bottom lip. "kunwoo".

you snort, rolling your eyes as you scoot closer to mark, your hand graces his arm, and mark is quick to relax into the touch. "you shouldn't care about that".

your whisper festers into the air, and mark simply watches the movement of your lips.

then mark leans in, fulfilling his newfound itch of the night. he feels you smile against his lips, his hand moving up into your hair. he lets out a small sigh of relief, a sigh that makes you chuckle.

maybe mark had originally wanted to start slow, but then a switch seemed to have flipped. his fingers tangled in your hair, he can't get over how your lips feel. they're soft, plush, his frenzied presses driven by his pure eagerness, want, desire.

how did it take him this long? how couldn't he realize this is what he wanted the entire time?

you two break apart to breath, but it's only a few seconds before mark leans forward again to chase after yet another taste. his aggressiveness makes you go down, your back softly hitting his mattress as he crawls on top of you, a small giggle leaving your lips at his enthusiasm.

you scale your hand up his arm and under his shirt, drawing shapes into his shoulder as the tiniest hint of a whimper leaves your lips. his hands were still messing with your hair, maybe that's one of his favorite hobbies.

you chuckle again, bringing your hand up to hold his jaw, and you keep your hand there when you finally pull him off you. "oh, how long have you wanted to do that?"

mark can barely control his bated breaths, cheeks a rosy red and lips kissed the same color. "like forever— fuck i can't.. i can't believe i actually got to do that".

you hum, thumb caressing the underside of his jaw. "ah, you were thinking about it".

mark's words get stuck in his throat, and his blatantly red face must be embarrassing. he stares at you as if your the only person in the world, splayed under him in all your gorgeous glory. yes, he did think about this, it got to a little bit of an unhealthy rate. "i thought about way more than just kissing.."

"woah, slow your roll there, lee, what are you implying with that?"

mark stares down at you, cheeks red, hair messy as you begin humming. it makes no fucking sense. you look pretty doing everything, and he rolls his eyes. he responds to you with yet another kiss, except there's less of that prior aggression and more of gentleness.

mark tugs at your bottom lip, your hands slipping down towards his hips, keeping him in his place. he gives a slight squeak of response, obviously not expecting that.

"you gonna tell me what you were implying?"

"can't i just show you?"

"ooooo" you can't contain your snicker, your best friend is sort of pinning you down on his bed, the crashing ocean waves make a red color spread across your face. "i see, look at you being bold".

mark merely hums, diving down to begin sucking bruises into your neck. "you need to be quiet".

"and what are you gonna do if i don't? hm?"

mark sends you a look, the kind of look you expect to see in situations like this. "i won't tell you, i'll show you".

"you're doing much more telling than showing right now".

mark glares. "brat".

"you love it".

mark eyes the bruises he sucked into your skin, purple blemishes that stand out against your empty neck. "you're so pretty.. so pretty".

you are also about to lose your sanity if he doesn't do anything more, you're quite literally about to snap his neck if he doesn't just fucking do it. "as you say all the time.."

mark clicks his tongue, finger ghosting your collarbone. "it's deserved".

mark is going to make sure you hear everything he had to say tonight, he's going to show his appreciation for you through and through, he'll get his point across through any means.

maybe he'll figure out his feelings in the process, too.

"YOU KNOW, YOU KIND OF REMIND ME OF DONGHYUCK.." THE moment mark utters those words, you snap your head towards him, eyes narrowed and lips parted. he takes your reaction as a bad one, your judging look washing a weird sense of fear onto him. you can be strangely scary at times, and the look mark receives just strikes the weirdest amount of fear in him. "what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" you ask, a hint of offense in your tone. you are clueless as to what he could possibly mean by that, and mark realizes those words seem pretty vague in hindsight. he stares at you, your messy hair, the same pajamas he changed you into after you two had finished your.. activity. you look adorable, mark can't help but giggle as he observes you, and you scrunch your nose at his actions.

"you two are kinda the same, like twins".

"twins?"

"yeah, you're both insanely annoying" mark says, walking past you and ignoring the other look you share with him. "and besides, you two are both my best friends, your bound to have some similarities, you guys even share some moles in the same place".

you trail behind mark, lips turning downward. "so you just.. usually make out with your best friends?" you ask, hands naturally trailing down towards his hips.

mark turns around just fast enough to meet your eyes, leaning back against the kitchen counter as your hands stay steady on his hips. he hums, staring at your lips. "no, it's just you".

"oh? am i the exception?"

"mhm" mark sees the way your eyes seemingly light up at the words, a small squeeze to his hips. you get giddy so easily, he has to resist the urge to giggle. "it's only you i have my eyes on".

your cheeks flare up, and you chuckle as you look down. you really like the sound of that. when you look back up, mark is quick to press his lips to yours. you squeak out of surprise, but your quick to melt into his touch.

mark's newfound obsession is kissing you, your lips are always so fucking soft. how much chapstick do you use? or are they just naturally like that? he'll have to kiss you more to find out (that's his new excuse).

"you're so enthusiastic, where was this energy when i flirted with you before?"

"that was different".

"was it?" you lean away when mark goes back in for another kiss, smiling at the way his face drops. he scrunches his nose, tongue poking against his inner cheek. "how different was it?"

mark sucks his teeth, hand coming up to the back of your neck to pull you closer. "see? you are annoying".

"you didn't answer my question~"

"can't i just kiss you as my answer?" he breathes against your lips, unsuccessfully fighting a smile.

you pretend to think about it, tilting your head to sell your bit. "you just want to kiss me more".

"is that so bad?"

you stare down your best friend, but then you sigh, you can't resist him. "no".

and that's all mark needs. he pulls you back down towards him, sighing in contentment as he feels the soft plush of your lips against his. you lose your composure rather quickly, pulling mark as close as he could get, as if you'd die if you weren't touching every single part of him.

small (but intelligible) whimpers spill from your lips, sounds that have mark wanting to giggle and kick his feet in joy. he is doing that to you? oh he feels so proud of himself.

mark lee might just be addicted to kissing you.

"okay okay enough, your kiss amount is up".

"what? hey!"

your hand slips from his, and mark blinks, absolutely dumbfounded. you smile, expression full of cheek as you watch mark's drop. "since when did we have kiss amounts?"

"since about two seconds ago!" you yell as you make your way over to your room, mark for being from where you left him desolate at the kitchen counter. "you lose control too quickly".

"as if you don't like that.."

mark crosses his arms over his chest, following you to your room to give you a piece of his mind. "but i love kissing you dude!"

you give a weird look. "you can't call me dude after we just made out!"

mark scoffs. "what do you want me to call you then? baby?"

you pause, a bright red color spreading across your cheeks. you also like the sound of that. for some reason, it feels so right. you can already hear the word 'baby' fresh on mark's lips, and in reference to you to?

it sounds pretty cute.

"yeah no i think i prefer dude.."

you don't notice how mark's face drops at those words, he knows they're feigned, but the fact that you felt the need to lie just makes his stomach hurt. that's nice y/n, that's fine, i can totally get behind that, my feelings for you aren't complicated at all!

mark hates his thoughts.

but he doesn't disclose any of them, he gives a fake smile and forces out a strained chuckle. "fine, dude, don't get mad with me again though".

you can't even fight your smile anymore, because it comes to full force when you face mark, who is busy staring at the marks he sucked into your neck. maybe those are too obvious, you'd have trouble trying to cover them.

you snap your fingers in front of mark's face. "hey, you alright?"

mark blinks, locking eyes with you. he thinks he's dreaming, did you two really get to this point? mark assumed he'd wallow in his own jealousy forever, never getting the opportunity to really feel these things around you. "yeah, sorry.."

"mhm" you press your lips into a thin line, and mark steps closer to bury his face into your shoulder, an action of affection that is now regular for you two. "no need to apologize, what's going on in your head?"

mark doesn't answer that, simply lets out a deep breath. "don't wanna talk about it".

"that's fine" you whisper, you can wait until he's ready to talk about it.

MARK'S EYES PRACTICALLY BURN BY THE TIME he can finally see again. he almost inhales a gallon of ocean water, he can still taste the salt of it on his tongue. how you managed to convince him to get into the ocean with all of his clothes still on? he has absolutely no idea, but it had no right being so fun as it was. he wipes his face as best he can with his hands, and he hears your titular laugh sounding close by, so loud that not even the rushing ocean water can keep it silent. he shivers, jumping when he feels your wet hand grace his shoulder. "i'm never doing that with you ever again" he scolds, unable to sound serious with the way his lips refuse to turn down. you giggle, quickly grabbing a towel for you two to share, wrapping it around both you and mark as you sit on the other towel you brought to the beach. "i'm sure i could convince you easily enough if i tried" you reply, resting your head onto mark's shoulder.

"that's only because i let you get away with things" mark responds, pressing closer to you, as close as he can get with the lack of space already between the two of you. you let out a sigh of contentment, feeling good in the current place you are.

it's always been comfortable like that with mark.

"keep telling yourself that".

"it's true" mark bites back, and you hum as you again let out a sigh. "you only get a pass because you're my best friend" he drags his finger down your arm, smiling as you relax into the touch.

"aww, is it not because i'm so cute?" your lips turn downward into a pout, and you lean into mark as you feign sadness at his previous words.

"nope" mark pushes you back with only his pointer finger, and you chuckle against his touch once again.

the beach wasn't your original destination, but it's much too difficult to avoid the beach, and by proxy, the ocean. mark didn't really want to swim, because you two weren't planning on going to the beach, but you were somehow able to convince him to get into the water, he has no idea how you even got that to happen, but you did, your striking smile is much too difficult to ignore.

you two spent so much time just messing around, acting like the idiots you were supposed to be when you originally decided to go on vacation together. yeah all the drinking, seagull chasing, and cooking attempts were fun, but just being idiots on beach? this is what going on vacation is about.

you couldn't have stifled so many of your giggles today, and mark, mark just made it so much better. you feel so much around mark, you don't know how you hid such feelings for so long. "you really are something.."

mark blinks, admiring your smile, he's cut off by a sudden rush of wind, which sends a shiver down both your spines. you snicker, grabbing his hand. "let's go back, yeah? it's getting cold now".

mark nods, wrapping his arm around your waist as you wrap your arm around his, the two of you laughing as you trip over your feet to make your way back to the beach house. "tomorrow, we need to check out that ice cream parlor".

mark gives you a look. "the one with the.. what is it? fucking amazing waffle cones?" he inquires, recalling jungwoo's words when he was telling you two about the place awhile ago.

you snort. "that one, yes".

mark simply gives a small smile, you think he looks especially cute with his wet hair. blue was really the move, you love it.

"you gonna pay?"

"woah! why do i have to pay?"

mark nudges you, almost rolling his eyes. "you made me deal with kunwoo for a whole week, that man did not like me".

"that's ridiculous".

the other look you receive from mark is full of the incredulity you except, mark looks at you as if you just punched him in the gut and spat on him as he doubled over. "ridiculous? you should've seen the way he stared at me, you would've thought i robbed his mom or something".

"it's ridiculous how he didn't like you".

mark scoffs, a cold shiver running down his spine as he thinks of his next response. "think it was pretty obvious why.."

it's a simple mutter, but you know what he means by those words. you hum, getting out the keys and unlocking the door, mark feels a sense of déjà vu as he lets you take him in, letting him rest half his body weight onto you.

you suck your teeth as you hear mark yawn. "don't get so sleepy, we still have to dry our hair".

mark hums, looking up at you.

and mark can't exactly grasp why it's so romantic. why the giggles are full of much more love, why the acts of affection mean so much more, why he doesn't want all the lingering touches to stop. he rolls his eyes at your complaints when he cleans the sand out of your hair, and he smiles softly at the sight.

you look mesmerized by everything mark does, your eyes tracking him and every single action he performed like he was the single most important being to ever grace the earth. your eyes held a love you had never once showcased for another human being before. it couldn't just be platonic.

you practically stay glued to his side the whole time, an act that isn't as surprising to mark, it's kind of your whole thing to become super affectionate so randomly. he just likes it more this time, maybe it's the way you fingers grace his waist that make him feel safer.

you giggle when mark changes into those cute pink pajamas you usually never see him wear, but he only gives you a dirty look, one which makes you stop talking in fear of pissing him off.

and that is how you end up here, listening to mark's heartbeat as he runs his fingers through your hair, his eyes closed, but him not yet being asleep. sharing beds have never been unusual to you two, it's just.. different now.

"i can still taste the ocean water, dude".

you chuckle, feeling the rise and fall of mark's chest. you are so comfortable here, a sense of warmth easily envelopes you with mark. nothing could ever compare to how you feel around him. "maybe you shouldn't have done that dive then, dude".

mark narrows his eyes at you, taking in the tone of sarcasm in your words. you lift from your place on mark's chest, leaning your elbow onto the bed, and your head against your hand. you use your free hand to take mark's and intertwine it with yours. you stare at him from your place above him, lips turning up by just staring at his face.

"you are so fucking cute".

mark rolls his eyes, a small smile showing on his face. "are you really saying that? look at you".

"don't try to flatter me".

"dude, have you met yourself?"

"don't call me dude, dude" you argue, eyes shining with feigned rage when you hear a correspondent giggle from mark.

"you said you prefer dude!"

"okay well— i lied! don't call me dude, you call random men on the sidewalk dude, not me".

"what do you want me to call you then?"

god you're frustrating.

"anything but dude".

mark sighs, watching the way your cheeks dust red at just having to disclose this information to mark with pure honesty. he stares at your intertwined fingers, leaning forward and pressing a kiss onto your knuckles. the act is much too simple, but it leaves a lasting impression.

"i hate you".

"okay dude".

you snap a glare in mark's direction, but you also can't hide your budding smile. he's just so hard to be mad at, he shouldn't be allowed to harbor such beauty while simply lying down. "fuck you".

"i'm sure you want to" mark teases, leaning his head against the pillow, his hair falling down prettily behind him.

you choose to not answer that, instead letting go of mark's hand to grab his jaw and pull him in. your first time being the one to initiate, and it's just as messy as mark expected for it to be.

you can taste the remains of mint toothpaste on mark's tongue, and there's a certain frenzy that puts you on, your hand sliding down to the middle of mark's chest, again feeling the beating of his heart. you allow for your hand to journey under his shirt, exploring the warmth of his bare skin.

"slow that hand down dude.."

"if you fucking call me that again—" you grit your teeth, an empty threat dancing on your tongue. mark doesn't try to move your hand, just lets you do your thing.

mark stares up at you, waiting for the eventual threat, but it doesn't come, that's strange for you. he smirks, and you glare as you catch it. "come on y/n, threaten me".

you suck your teeth, instead pulling a mark by shutting him up with a kiss. it's again messy, a clash of the teeth and a mini fight in between all the chaos.

give me your best shot, mark says, tugging your bottom lip to truly sell his words. of course you bite, not hard enough to draw blood, mark finds it funny how you hold back during this moment out of every other one.

your hand again ventures, seemingly having a mind of it's own. you fiddle with the buttons of his pajama shirt, caressing the soft fabric between your fingers. when you pull away for breath, you simply stare, an indecisive look in your eyes.

"can i?" you ask, simply dragging your finger across what's exposed of his neck.

mark presses his lips together, staring at you as if  ppl you're the only person in the world. he then gives you a lazy smile, a hand carting through your hair. "you're sacrificing sleep for sex?"

you snicker. "but it's good sex".

"and how are you so sure?"

"just let me prove it to you" you sing, tapping a finger onto his cheek. "and besides, we could always sleep in.." mark closes his eyes, humming as he feels your other hand press onto his chest, it's such a strange feeling, but it's foreign in a nice way.

"what about the ice cream?" mark's question is breathy, but he still finds a way to give you that tormenting smile. how annoying.

"you can't possibly be thinking about ice cream while i'm on top of you in your bed right now" you quickly counter, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt.

"i like ice cream, though".

"and me?"

mark opens his eyes, smile lazy and expression soft. "maybe you're just a little better than ice cream".

"a little?"

mark decides not to answer that one. "knock yourself out".

you roll your eyes at how he decided to grant you permission, but you chuckle anyway. "might knock you out after were done.."

"i'm looking forward to it".

you swear your going to wipe that smile off mark's face (that's a lie, you actually really enjoy seeing it).

"THE AMOUNT OF SPRINKLES ON THAT SHOULD BE illegal" the remark makes you choke around the tiny plastic spoon you tried to chuckle into. you purposefully bite down on the sprinkles to piss him off, lips turning up as you catch his eye twitch. it's so easy to rile him up, annoying him really is one of your best qualities. "how do not like sprinkles?" you ask, looking at him incredulously. mark takes a huge bite of the waffle cone in his hand, ignoring your question and instead replying with an interested hum. "these are fucking amazing waffle cones.." he mutters, and you scoff, shoving his shoulder. he gives a satisfied giggle at your irritation, your face dropping immediately when you see how joyful he seems. "what?" he asks, feigning idiocy as you scowl, crossing your arms over your chest and rolling your eyes. he can't even stifle his laughter anymore, barely containing his chuckles behind his hand.

"i fucking hate you".

mark seems pleased by your annoyance, grimacing as you eat yet another scoop of those sprinkles. "okay you sprinkle enjoyer, they're too sweet anyway".

"but i like sweet things".

"yeah cause you're basically a toddler" your lips turn down at the words, and mark runs a hand through your hair, suddenly very interested in the soft strands. "don't get mad, i'm just saying".

you scoff, looking down at your chocolate ice cream, your sprinkles are running out anyway. "i am mad, and i'm going to go get more sprinkles" you grumble, but your smiling as you walk off to go ask the person at the counter if you can add more sprinkles to your ice cream.

mark again laughs when he remembers the sight of your irritated face, you always look so cute when you're mad. he can practically hear the scowls from you when you realize he's been laughing.

he just can't help it.

"oh, you".

mark glances up, letting go of his spoon and letting out a strained chuckle. the one person he did not want to see. fucking kunwoo of all people.

"hi" mark tries his best to be civil, but all kunwoo does is scoff.

"cut the bullshit, what? do you think you can just influence y/n's actions now?"

mark scoffs, so much for being civil, all he wants to do is get more waffle cones, but of course someone has to ruin his fucking day, and of course it has to be the guy he was wrongly jealous of. "i have no idea what you're talking about".

"y/n isn't texting me back, and i know you have something to do with it".

mark almost rolls his eyes. "i don't influence y/n's decisions, if he isn't talking to you, than he's probably doing it on his own accord".

kunwoo laughs. what's so funny? mark inquires in his head, his ice cream is beginning to melt. "do you really expect me to believe that? you've always been such a jealous prick—"

"see? told you i got more sprinkles" you pause when your eyes gaze upon the scene before you. "oh! hi.. kunwoo" you grit your teeth, eye twitching in the slightest, mark almost laughs at the sight.

"oh you've gotta be kidding me, you two? give me a fucking break".

"oh please, don't start".

"i will, actually! you never seem to stop y/n, how long until you go off to the next guy—"

"you can't just say that.." you place a hand on mark's shoulder, making him go quiet.

"are you still angry with me for yelling at you?" you question, tone suddenly growing much more irritated. "sorry i don't enjoy when people try to force themselves onto me".

kunwoo scoffs, and mark has to bite his tongue, he might say something he isn't proud of. "for the last time, it was a joke, he always acts like that—"

"well then maybe you can see why i don't want to talk to you!"

mark sighs, clearing his throat. "anyway, i don't exactly appreciate the company of someone like you.. and my ice cream is now melting, maybe sort things out with your.. friend first".

and then mark is being dragged back into the ice cream parlor, his hand being tugged by yours. you sigh as you make it inside, peaking to make sure kunwoo didn't follow you in. "bastard".

mark blinks, noticing the way your shoulders slump. "y/n.. are you okay?"

you suck your teeth, immediately displaying a fake smile. "of course i am, kunwoo just sucks, he doesn't deserve my time".

mark scoffs. "if you really think i'm gonna believe that, you must be crazy".

you knew mark wouldn't believe that in the slightest. you drop your smile and simply hum, taking in a deep breath. "i just don't want to think about what he said, it'll take away too much of my attention and then i'm gonna start taking it personally which will never get us anywhere!"

mark is about to open his mouth again, but you cut him off. "can we get more ice cream now? ours has become like.. liquid by now".

"get as much as you please" mark shrugs. "i don't really want anymore".

you glance at him, narrowing your eyes. "come on, get as much as you want, i'm paying!"

mark can barely stop his lips from turning up, the interaction with kunwoo is still rubbing him the wrong way, but he guesses he can let it go for now. "your sprinkles look sad, good for them".

the comment gets a flurry of giggles out of you, you get nothing but absolute amusement from those words. "what is it with you and sprinkles? why do you hate them?"

"they're too sweet".

"oh, so you hate me?" you rebut, scooping chocolate ice cream into your cup and laughing at something in your head. "sprinkles are my pride and joy".

"i'm not your pride and joy?"

"you don't compare to sprinkles".

mark gasps, sticking his tongue out at you. now he's the one that's irritated, how funny. "i can't believe i'm losing to sprinkles, i feel insulted".

"it's the truth, sorry".

mark frowns, you know he isn't genuinely offended by that, because he keeps fighting his life whenever he glances over at you. "see? i hate sprinkles".

you lick your spoon again, nudging mark with your shoulder. "stop pouting, can you forgive me?"

you gently take his jaw and turn him towards you, a red color spread across mark's cheeks as he stares you in the eye. he avoids your gaze, cheeks still dusted red. "i guess so.."

you smile.

"just don't compare me to sprinkles again, i mean much more than they do".

"okay mark, i'll make sure not to do that next time".

and maybe mark smiles much too widely at that.

MARK REALLY LOST TRACK OF TIME AFTER YOUR GUYS' first kiss, because he feels like he blinked and it's suddenly his birthday. the best thing about summer birthdays is that he can party to his heart's content, drink till he passes out and wakes up with a terrible hangover. sometimes he forgets birthdays exist, because it feels like his birthday takes ages to come around with the amount of stuff he's busy doing during the school year. you neglected to mention what you'd be doing for his birthday, but you usually do that every year, you love to simply announce surprises out of the blue, you do that with all of your friends. mark has always thought he's good at reading you, but reading you as the second of august steadily approaches has become much more difficult.

mark already knew everyone was coming, he had mentioned it in passing way before you two decided to go on vacation, but he still finds himself startled when the doorbell rings and there are two giants standing on the doorstep (jaehyun's look of offense at being called 'giant' really brightened his mood).

"y/nie!" jungwoo surges through the front door and practically lifted you from the floor when he wrapped you in a tightening hug. "oh i thought mark would've killed you by now".

"trust me i tried".

your face falls at the words from mark, jungwoo attacking your cheeks with kisses. "he loves me too much to actually kill me".

"why are you lying?"

"he's probably telling the truth! knowing you anyway.."

mark's jaw drops, it's always donghyuck going after him isn't it? he crosses his arms, grimacing. "you can't insult me, it's my birthday".

"it's not insulting if it's true!"

mark again frowns, but then he snaps his fingers as soon as you're released from jungwoo's grip and stumble towards donghyuck. "johnny, dude, don't they look like twins?"

johnny blinks, narrowing his eyes. "woah! no they kinda do!"

"see!?"

jaehyun tilts his head. "i see two donghyuck's.."

you and donghyuck exchange glances, both displaying the same emotions on your face. "i do not like this comparison, hyuck is not that great—"

"hey fuck you!"

"no fuck you actually! how do you think i'm anything like him—"

"okay okay, calm down" mark steps in between you two, but his touches linger on you more than they do on donghyuck. "not on my birthday, please".

you don't say anything more, simply snicker and look away from mark. donghyuck stares at you two strangely, but he doesn't comment on what he sees. "i'm going to be singing for you, though!"

"oh god not again".

you snort, and donghyuck frowns. "i will pierce your eardrums—"

"okay! let's not threaten anyone! mark is twenty four! let us celebrate!"

mark couldn't have heard too many piercing shouts that day, which quickly turned into night. by the time the clock strikes eight, jaehyun is passed out on the couch, but mark can't figure out if it was the alcohol or simply the exhaustion from being endlessly dragged around by everyone.

where the fuck did all the booze come from? mark has no idea, but he can't push down the sudden anxiety he feels. it's nice to be around everyone again, though he would never admit it, he missed renjun and donghyuck's annoying fights, missed jungwoo's drunk escapades, missed the annoying complaints from yangyang, yes he missed his friends.

but mark suddenly has a realization when he doesn't see you around. that's strange. you should be on your fifth cup of shitty alcohol by now. it isn't time for presents yet, but he still misses your presence anyway.

it's hard to not miss the person you've been spending pretty much all of the past month with.

"xiaojun, have you seen y/n?"

dejun blinks, patting yangyang's back, the younger sobs about something mark can't exactly get. "uh.. no, sorry".

mark smiles. "it's fine i.. whatever thanks".

"you really haven't told him yet?" dejun raises an eyebrow, and mark immediately gets what he means, face going bright red.

"i'm working on it okay? i just.. you know what, thank you dejun".

dejun giggles, simply muttering a small 'your welcome' and waving his hand forward.

mark sucks his teeth, he avoided drinking in case no one sober was left, but the only thing he's focused on is making sure you're alive. you're much too impulsive, maybe you'll fall off the roof or something without anyone knowing, or maybe a bunch of aliens are going to come abduct you and no one will be there to witness it.

mark drags his feet everywhere, trying to catch sight of you, but you seemed to have disappeared. he almost calls out your name, but he stops himself in fear of sounding like an idiot drowned in desperation.

"there you are" make startles, but relaxes the moment he catches sight of you. your eyes light up when you see mark, and you extend your hand forward, offering it for mark to take. he sighs in relief, intertwining it with yours.

"you aren't drunk".

you chuckle, caressing the soft of his skin. "is that surprising to you?"

"..kinda".

you roll your eyes. "okay fuck you, i just don't feel like it today".

mark stares at you for a moment, then tightens his grip on your hands and tugs you forward, taking you away from the loud music of the hallway. "woah, where are we going?"

"somewhere.."

you don't get the meaning of that, which makes your nose scrunch. "slow down, do you not want to be around other people?"

"we just.. can we talk?"

mark leads you outside, anxiously picking at his own skin as he awaits your response. he doesn't turn around to see your smile, but you give him a squeeze of the hand. "of course, that's what i'm here for".

you don't often go on the balcony, because you two spent so much of your vacation out doing random things, but it's a good place for privacy when the rest of the house has everyone else in it.

"you know.. um— i'm confused, on what we are? i don't want to just be.. i don't know your kiss buddy? i want to be more than that and i know you sometimes dislike labels but i've literally been in love with you like— forever and oh my god it pains me to think about it because then i think you don't feel the same way so i.. overthink everything".

you blink, and mark covers his face with his hands to avoid your eyes. you laugh, looking down at the rushing ocean, it appears beautiful from this view. "hey, look at me please".

mark groans. "don't say please".

"mark".

mark doesn't fully remove his hands from his face, but he lowers his hands in order to see you. "what makes you think i don't feel the same way?"

mark sighs. "i know you".

you nudge him, that same pretty smile tugging at your lips. "not well enough, i thought it was obvious?"

mark bites into his inner cheek, he feels just a bit stupid right now. "i don't really get how you think these days".

you look down at where your hands stay laced together, and you abruptly tug him forward, eliciting a yelp from mark. "i'm just as in love with you as you are with me".

"tell me you're not joking".

"mark".

"sorry" he's quick to squeak. "i'm just trying to grasp this situation but i really can't because.."

mark pauses, letting out a well needed breath. "because?"

"you love me too" mark whispers, as if he couldn't believe such a thing could be possible. you laugh, so amused that you'd probably fall over from how hard you were laughing.

"mark, was that confession last week not an indication?"

"well some people just randomly do that during sex i didn't really think about it like that! i just thought you were being.. you".

you roll your eyes. "my god i love you".

mark pauses, those words striking him in a way only your words can. "say it again".

your lips turn up, tease on the tip of your tongue, but you giggle softly and take his other hand in yours. you lean closer, eyes laser focusing on the curves of mark's own. "i love you, mark, so much".

mark is about to jump off the balcony in pure joy. "you should kiss me".

you feign confusion, tilting your head. "should i?"

"yeah, it's my birthday, don't withhold something like this from me".

you hum, rolling your eyes at the words. how funny, you guessed he was going to say that. you feel his hands squeeze against yours, and you simply snicker. mark can't stare at you without exponentially heating up, but you don't say anything, just sigh.

mark lets go of one of your hands to gently take your jaw and press his lips to yours. your lips are always so soft, and they still taste like cherries. mark isn't the biggest fan of cherries, but he can't get over the taste when it's on your lips.

"you're lips are always so soft" mark chuckles against you. "you stack up on chapstick?"

"no mark i literally apply it regularly".

mark snorts.

"hey, ask me".

"what?"

"ask me out, stupid".

mark rolls his eyes. "will you be my boyfriend, y/n?"

you pretend to think about it, whistling as your thoughts run in circles around your brain. "sure, i guess!"

mark punches you in the shoulder, making you squeak and jump back, avoiding his touch. "you guess? i'm breaking up with you".

"we've been dating for two seconds! take me back, please!" you wrap your arms around mark and rest your head against his back, lips turned downward in feigned sadness.

mark can't even stifle his laughs anymore. "fine, but only because it's you".

you giggle in joy, taking mark's hands and turning him around. "it's probably time for gifts now, come on, before jungwoo starts thinking the worst".

"the worst?"

"he probably thinks we're fucking up here or something".

mark scrunches his nose, not even making a noise when you lurch him forward with a tug of his hand. "how would that be bad?"

"he'd probably like.. scream and then make a big show out of it".

mark stares at you incredulously, and you stop to ruffle his hair. "you're going to like my gift the best".

"oh? how are you so sure about that?"

"i know you".

mark doesn't respond to that one, because he can't deny the fact that you do.

THE FINAL DAYS OF AUGUST STEADILY APPROACH, AND with that also comes the end of your summer vacation. mark's birthday was as enjoyable as it was magical, maybe birthday love confessions are tacky to some people, but mark giggled over it for so long that by the time he stopped giggling over it, almost three weeks had passed. the weeks after mark's birthday were filled with idiotic love adventures that you can only describe as purely out of this world. kissing in the ocean is one thing, and drunkenly sobbing over stray cats is most definitely another. mark writes infinitely obscure sentences into that journal of his, and the bed sharing becomes much more regular. it only started growing normal after sex started growing a little normal, you two couldn't even make excuses for falling asleep in each other's arms anymore.

you two don't even really sleep most nights though, you spend them walking the beach and daring each other to jump into the ocean, knowing full well it's too cold to be doing that.

there isn't much of a change, even with the boyfriend titles being bestowed upon you two. you still go on dates, attempt to cook (mark really needs to work on that), belt exo songs at midnight, and dance in the living room.

wine nights and journaling make themselves regular guests in your daily routine, paired with you chiding mark to take care of himself. the romantic connotations may have been hidden before, but they're bright as day now with how unashamedly mark stares at your lips while you literally do anything.

the pure domesticity of the whole thing makes you feel warm, mark relays his true thoughts to you in the cool whispers of the night, you remind him it's important to talk about how he feels, and you always manage to coax him into it with tickles to his stomach, practically making him die with laughter so he gives into your incessant demands.

it gets to the point where you almost run out of things to do, spending every waking moment together just makes the act of leaning against each other enough to pass time. you don't even have to talk to have a good time with mark, just being around him is fine.

the door to your room swings open, and mark steps in, falling directly on top of you, no words said. you sigh, turning off your phone. "well hello to you too, baby".

mark almost freezes, he doesn't know how long it'll take for him to get used to being called that, but he really likes the sound of it. "y/n.."

"yes?" mark rests his head onto your chest, listening to the sound of your heartbeat, smiling as he feels your hand beginning to go up and down his back, the ministrations bringing him a feeling of solace.

"my mom called" he begins, his words merely a low mutter. "i told her about us and.. well, i was thinking we could go to vancouver this coming winter break?"

you snicker. "you planned ahead?"

"i always plan ahead, and besides, my mom misses you! you aren't about to deny an opportunity to see my mom are you?"

you roll your eyes. "no mark, i love your mom she's an angel, i'm just a bit surprised".

mark takes your hand, intertwining your fingers. "it'll be a good trip, like.. the nostalgia and stuff? that's where we met!"

he's so excited about it, his pure giddiness makes a smile form on your lips. "i love the idea of that, mark, and i also miss your mom too".

mark narrows his eyes. "okay well now you're steering off track".

"seeing your mom is like a plus one! what do you mean steering off track?"

mark frowns, rolling off you and landing right beside you on your mattress, a small thumb accompanying his movement. the faint sound of the ocean rushing begs a smile out of you. "can't believe summer vacation is over, i've become attached to this place".

mark slings an arm over your waist, and he tucks his face into your neck, pressing a small kiss to the skin. "you like living by the beach?"

"yes! i'll miss my stupid room with the huge window in front of the water!"

you snort. "you baby".

mark turns over, resting his arms onto your chest and staring down at you, biting his bottom lip. "you look so.. easy like this".

"is that how you tell me you want a kiss?"

mark presses his lips together. more or less is his silent answer, and he leans forward to capture your lips, fingers caressing the skin of your collarbone. "no more kissing while swimming, huh?"

"we could always just hijack chenle's pool".

mark stares at you, and then you both burst into laughter. "chenle would never!"

"it's funny to think about, though".

mark clicks his tongue, taking your bottom lip in between his teeth. he's never going to get tired of this, it's insane how addicting your lips are, they fit perfectly with his, as if you two were molded for each other.

there's only a few seconds of pulling away for air before he's on you again, and your hand slides up his shirt, feeling the bare skin of his side. he gives a breathy chuckle against your lips, as if amused, but he's gotten used to your tricks by now.

"you are so unbelievable" he remarks, nipping at your jaw then slowly starting down your neck, taking the skin between his teeth and giggling as he feels you suddenly grip his hip.

you scrunch your nose, successfully hiding your whimpers by holding in your breaths instead. "mark, we have to go watch the sunset".

your voice is raspy, wrecked from the assault on your neck. you feel mark's lips turn up on your skin, his resounding chuckle sending vibrations through your body. "you just remembered that.."

"yep".

mark frowns, pretending to think it over. "sunset doesn't matter right now".

you feign shock at the words, widening your eyes. "so you're just disregarding our evening plans now?" you inquire, hissing when he again latches himself onto your neck, god he really does like doing that.

"this is better, trust me" he whispers, and you close your eyes, a small sigh escaping your lips as you bask in the feelings mark gives you.

"you totally sound untrustworthy when you say that".

mark again laughs, his nail scratching at your thin shirt. "just.. let me do this for you, okay?"

you pause, finally shrugging as mark smiles, it's just a little addicting, his smile. he then leans down and kisses you again, unable to contain his excitement when he got yet another taste of that cherry chapstick.

ocean waves crash against each other faintly outside your window, but all you can think about are mark's lips on yours.

[cakesunflower]

lovelorn (and nobody knows) [rafe cameron au fic] chapter 8

Summary: Isla Carrera had planned for the summer before college to be focused on three things: helping out at her family’s restaurant (the helpful daughter), preparing for college (the good student), and having fun with the Pogues (the loyal friend). But one fateful night, where her car breaks down and her rescuer is none other than Rafe Cameron, seems to send her summer down a path she didn’t see coming–one teeming with a secret, illicit romance with the last person she expected. And if her friends and sister found out, Isla isn’t sure they’ll be so understanding, no matter what her feelings are.

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

A/N: Slightly shorter chap, but I promise the next one makes it worth it hehehe

The sun is bright in the cloudless sky above, the occasional seagull soaring and squawking by. With sunglasses covering her eyes, Isla gets away with gazing absently at the sky, the sounds of her friends around her bleeding into the background as she basks in the warmth of the sunlight, letting out a breath. Except Isla can’t bring herself to enjoy much of anything, at the moment, because her mind has been preoccupied with her conversation with Rafe back at the country club. It settles in her stomach like a rock, unmoving and sending a bad taste to her mouth, and she knows the only way to make it better is to talk to Rafe and apologize to him.

As expected, when she and JJ showed up to the Chateau, their friends had been indignant at the sight of his black eye, demanding to know what happened. To Isla’s secret relief, JJ had told them the truth about his dad, but she did note the hint of shame that weighed his tone when he spoke. She hates that he feels as though he needs to be ashamed of the abuse he suffers from because of Luke, and more than anything, Isla hates Luke for laying a finger on JJ. Anytime he gets hurt at the hands of his dad, JJ just laughs or brushes it off, never wanting his friends to worry. But they’re family, more than they are friends, and of course Isla and the others are pissed on his behalf. There’s a reason JJ has his own room in the Chateau. JJ is a lot of things, but he will never be abandoned by his friends.

And Isla is certain if she ever lays eyes on Luke Maybank again, she’s going to call the cops on the spot.

Sighing, Isla props herself up on her elbow, grabbing the can of beer sitting on the floor of the boat and taking a long sip of the cool drink. Pope sits at the front of the boat, reading, while the others are in the water, swimming around the boat.

She lays back down, the surface warm under her back, loosening another breath as she lets her eyes fall shut. Except Pope suddenly says, “That’s the third time you’ve sighed in two minutes.”

Isla raises herself up on her elbows again, arching an eyebrow at him. “Why are you keeping track of my sighs?” she counters.

“Why is your vibe so melancholy?” Pope shoots back without hesitation, pulling a glare from Isla. He puts his book down on his lap, the brim of his cap shielding his eyes from the sun. “Seriously. You’ve been a little off since you got here. Everything good?”

Isla’s chest tightens because she knows Pope means well, but she also knows she definitely can’t tell him about why she’s been so in her head. Her lips part, trying to think of something. “I—”

“Is it because of Luke?” Pope carries on, not hearing her, but it’s the perfect excuse for Isla to latch onto—especially because it’s partially true, anyway.

“Yeah,” she nods, clearing her throat lightly as she sits up, back to the water as she leans down to grab her beer. 

Pope shakes his head, his gaze drifting towards the water. She follows his gaze to watch JJ, Kie, John B, and Sarah playing chicken in the water as Cleo both referees and records it on Sarah’s small pink digital camera. “Is it too much to ask for him to disappear out of JJ’s life for good?” Pope mutters as they watch the grin spread on JJ’s face, his hands gripping Kie’s thighs as she sits on his shoulders.

“Probably,” Isla mumbles into her next sip of beer, her gaze dropping to her phone sitting next to her.

Her fingers itch to reach for it, to send a message to Rafe. But what could she even say? I’m sorry for assuming you punched one of my best friends? She is sorry, but from the way Rafe had looked at her—with disappointment, hurt, and maybe even a little resignation—Isla has a feeling that simply words weren’t going to work. With the way her and Rafe’s relationship was rapidly changing—hell, from going to being nonexistent to whatever it is now—it never should’ve even been a thought to cross her mind. But it was, and she feels guilty about it and makes a mess of her already befuddled feelings.

One thing is for sure: Isla doesn’t want this budding change between her and Rafe to be ended before it even has the chance to begin.

“Hey—don’t stress out about it,” Pope says, cutting into her thoughts. His words have her blinking rapidly behind her sunglasses, bewildered, before quickly realizing he is, of course, talking about JJ and his dad. Because that’s what Pope thinks is bothering her. Pope shoots her a smile. “JJ’ll be alright. He’s got us, right?”

Isla smiles, somehow both forced yet not. “Right,” she agrees, and it might be the only purely honest thing she’s said in this conversation that doesn’t have a braid of lies hidden underneath.

Because, of course, her situation with Rafe isn’t one she can talk about with any of her friends. This is one problem she’s going to have to solve on her own. 

Finishing the rest of her beer, Isla gets up and walks to the other end of the boat, opposite of Pope, and steps up on the ledge. The water glitters under the afternoon sun and a second later, Isla dives in, the water blissfully cool against her skin as she is submerged.

When Isla breaks through the surface with a gasp, she wipes the water away from her face, slicking her wet hair back as she stays afloat under the warm sun. Unfortunately, the cooling dip did nothing to wash away the thoughts of Rafe and how she no doubt upset him, and Isla sighs as she floats on her back, arms treading water as she slips her eyes shut. 

All she sees is the hurt in Rafe’s eyes, and Isla knows she needs to figure out how to make things better sooner rather than later. 

*****

Isla fiddles with the thin chain of the gold bracelet around her wrist as her mom’s SUV pulls into the parking lot of the country club, tall lamps illuminating the area under the night sky. The blast of the air condition raises goosebumps on her arms, the skin exposed due to the gown she has on. It’s satin, like Kie’s, except while Kie’s is a pale lavender with spaghetti straps, Isla’s is a dusty pink with a sweetheart neckline and is off the shoulders, the thick straps hanging around her biceps, and a slit going up her right leg. And while Kie’s hair is done up and a flower crown adorns her head, Isla’s hair is styled down in waves, locks of hair threaded together in a braid to pull them back behind her head with tiny white daisies woven into them.

It had taken her and Kie a few hours to get ready for Midsummers, but while Kie had bemoaned looking like a bourgeoisie pig, Isla had quite liked what she saw when she looked in the mirror. For the first time in a few days, she actually felt good and her sister’s hatred of Midsummers wasn’t going to dampen her mood. 

Because for the past couple of days, Isla hasn’t gotten the chance to talk to Rafe, and that had fucked with her mood more than she had expected it to. Her messages to him remained unread, and she hasn’t seen him around that much, either, over the course of the last few days. The whole situation is strange because, God, only a little while ago if she had insulted Rafe, she wouldn’t necessarily care; she definitely wouldn’t lose sleep over it. But embarrassment and guilt constantly have her up in knots, unsure of what to say to Rafe other than apologize to him. Which she has, multiple times, in their messages, but he hasn’t responded. 

Isla hopes that he’s going to be at Midsummers tonight and somehow, someway, with Kie and Sarah and Pope all there, she can find a way to get Rafe alone and talk to him. Face to face, so he can’t ignore her.

The back garden area of the club is decorated beautifully for Midsummers, with string lights illuminating the place, waiters wandering around holding trays of flutes of champagne, and a live band set up on the side playing music that doesn’t overwhelm the atmosphere. The first half an hour or so is spent mingling with the other guests while Isla’s eyes keep darting around in search of Rafe yet never catching sight of him, disappointingly enough.

Even when they meet with the Camerons, it’s only Sarah, her dad, and step-mom that Isla sees, and she tries not to frown too obviously at the fact that Rafe is still missing. Holy hell, why is it so difficult to track him down when she needs to? They’ve been constantly running into each other, and the one time she needs to talk to him, he’s nowhere to be seen. Frustration mounts, but Isla pastes a smile onto her face, even when Kie grabs hers and Sarah’s arms and pulls them along to go to Pope.

The grass is soft beneath Isla’s heels as she lets her sister pull her, though that doesn’t keep her gaze from wandering, searching. “Don’t you three look snazzy,” Pope comments once they get to where he’s standing, grinning at them.

Kie’s face scrunches. “We look like sacrificial pigs,” she drolls with a roll of her eyes.

Trying to focus on the conversation, Isla bumps Kie’s hip with her own and says, “We do look snazzy, shush.”

“And it’s the one time we can drink without our parents giving us shit for it,” Sarah adds with a twinkle in her eye, grinning.

“Speaking of which. . .” Pope says, smiling as he looks over their shoulders.

Isla and the girls turn, watching JJ approach them in a classy waiter uniform that he no doubt refers to as a penguin suit, carrying a round tray of champagne flutes. Despite his own Kook related irritation, JJ grins, his bruises fading, and holds the tray out. “Drinks for the ladies?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Isla mutters, taking one of the glasses and immediately taking a long sip, only becoming aware of her friends’ surprised and amused expressions when she pulls the glass away from her lips. “What?” she asks, slightly defensive.

Pope arches an eyebrow. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Isla says with a laugh, hoping it doesn’t sound as forced as it feels. “Just here to enjoy the night.”

“This feels so pretentious,” Kie remarks, eyeing the glass she holds in her hand.

Isla rolls her eyes. “Just enjoy the free alcohol, Kie,” she says, her patience wearing thin as she takes another sip.

Fortunately, her sister merely shrugs and drinks as prompted. The group of them stand and chat for a few minutes, before JJ has to get back to work and Pope’s dad returns and they need to work on the oysters. Isla sticks with Kie and Sarah for the most part, more often than not tuning out of their conversation as she searches for Rafe. She can’t help it, and it’s driving her crazy. Part of her wonders if Rafe is pointedly ignoring her, which she wouldn’t blame him for. But then the other part tells herself she’s likely giving herself too much significance in Rafe’s life. Maybe the reason he hasn’t talked to her is because he doesn’t want to; maybe he already grew bored of whatever the hell had been brewing between them and moved on.

Admittedly, the thought of that makes a knot form in the middle of Isla’s chest, her grip on her emptying champagne glass tightening in response. A pit of dread even forms in the bottom of her stomach, like she is on the verge of losing something that’s slipping through her fingers too quickly. There’s a nagging voice in the back of Isla’s mind telling her to let it go, that cutting off whatever had been happening between her and Rafe at the legs, before it even had a chance to begin, is the right call. Less complicated when it comes to her friends. 

And yet, the idea of it leaves a bitter taste in Isla’s mouth.

As she finishes off her champagne, her gaze catches on some people walking out onto the porch across the dancefloor, and the breath hitches in Isla’s throat when she finally spots Rafe. He’s dressed in a summery, beige suit with a white button down underneath, a no doubt expensive watch on his wrist as he chats with Topper and Kelce. Rafe leans one elbow against the porch railing, holding a glass, and it’s as though in that moment, he can feel Isla’s gaze on him, because his head turns just so until their eyes lock across the way.

Isla’s heart launches itself to her throat as she watches him watch her and even from where she stands, she sees that mask of his break. The indifference cracks for a split second, but her sharp eyes catch it, the way his gaze softens and lips part before he forces himself to school his features. But Isla caught it. Even from where she stands, with all of these people in between them, she caught it, because it’s impossible to look away from him. And she has been thinking about him too much, these last few days, to not take note of every single detail about him.

She watches as he opens his mouth, free hand reaching up to massage his jaw as he cuts his gaze away from her, but Isla can see the sudden rigidness of his shoulders. Seeing her is having some kind of effect on him, possibly the same effect seeing him is having on her, and she knows that without a doubt, she is going to find some way to get them alone so she can talk to him.

Because there is a truth that dances on the tip of her tongue, and the first person Isla wants to admit it to is Rafe, not even herself. He is, after all, the first one who should hear it.

Isla knows it’s not going to be easy to try and find a moment alone with him—not with her friends, and his, around. She’ll need to find the right opportunity, and hope that he isn’t intent on avoiding her.

[ncillary]

Self Aware AU (Rafayel)

Summary: You have the lowest Affinity with Rafayel. The reason is because you hate being the destroyer of everything he loves. His kingdom. His people. His life. Maybe he is better off without meeting you.

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Masterlist Self Aware AU

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|  1  |  2  |  3  |  4  |  5 [current]  | 6 |

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He sauntered gently towards an elderly lady who has been staring at one painting for the past 30 minutes.

"Greetings, madam. If I may suggest you to have a seat nearby while you can still enjoy the painting." He offered his hand.

She turned to him and chuckled, "My my... what a young gentleman. Apologies. My heart already belong to someone." She teased.

He laughed to it, "Shame. But it looks like the lucky guy found his muse."

She turned back towards the painting, "I hope so."

Her replied didn't sit well with him.

"What has taken such interest in you for this one simple painting?"

"The calm before the storm."

He faltered but regain his composure second later, "How sure are you, madam?"

She breathed out, "How sure are you, Mr. Flame."

They turned to each other at the same time.

"I think I'll take your offer to rest my ailing feet."

He gestured his arm but she remained her hand on her purse. He reluctantly lowered it and gestured towards a private room.

Once they both have seated. He started.

"I'm not interested."

"How sure are you?" She asked again with a knowing face.

He sighed, "I don't know how you figured me out," he smiled, "but that move was brilliant to bypass my assistant."

"I accept the compliment."

"How my arts can assist you, madam..."

"A name only can be uttered by its true beholder. Unfortunately, you are not mine."

He looked at her in a new light. A colour he couldn't quite place her in.

"Very well, madam."

"I need your assistance on a mobile game my company has been creating. Please give it life with your superb artistic skill in anyway possible."

He looked at her. She was serious.

"I'm afraid technology isn't exactly my way of approaches, madam."

"I also would like to ask your assist to be the model of one of the characters. I think I got one that suits you well, Mr. Flame."

"As you may know, I'm a very private person and I enjoy my morning walks along the beach without being swoon like a sandwich that has been eyed by hundreds of seagull."

She gave a hearty laughed to that, "Mr. Flame, I may not be able to assure you that it won't happen but I assure you that you can find something else in this deal."

He was starting to get bored, "And that is?"

"The true beholder of your name, Rafayel."

He immediately stood up, eyeing her dangerously.

"We don't play around with names, madam." He called her a bit rigid to seethe his anger.

"I got your attention, didn't I? Now. How sure are you to reject this deal... Mr. Flame?" She gave him a calm smile.

They have a stand down, staring at each other, unmoving.

He relented first.

"You sure know how to play your card, madam."

"Experience is the key to stabilize yourself."

He was amused at his loss this time.

"Lay it out to me, madam. You've lit a flame in me."

+---------------------------+--------------------------+

That flame dimmed quickly in the course of a month. It hasn't died out yet but it looks to be soon.

"How many players do I have to care for? This feels like a scam. Madam CEO sure knows how to bait people."

He laughed at remembering their deal a month ago. He also has a few touch ups to the game that he's definitely seeing it through until the end.

Just... having lost his interest in the players.

+-----------------------+---------------------------+

He was assigned to a new player again. This was probably the last one since he wanted to have no qualm in taking care of the players anymore. He'll need to renew his deal with Madam CEO when this one is done.

He soon realized that it was not a new player judging from her level and cards collection.

What was so interesting about her was, the Affinity between her MC and the love interests.

He quirked an eyebrow, "Do you hate me that much?"

Although it was just his counterpart in the game, he somehow was hurt by it. His counterpart was the only one with Affinity in a single digit.

How did she manage to do that?

At the very least, the new player could reach as low as below 20 with his counterpart.

She was in her own league.

+-----------------------+-------------------------------+

"Mr. Flame, our team noticed you haven't been exiting the game for quite sometime. Say... for a whole 24 hours. Care to share anything?" Madam CEO asked calmly but he could sense mirth punctuated.

"There's nothing worth mentioning actually. I'm just curious."

"Careful, Mr. Flame. Curiosity kills the the cat."

"You know very well that I'm not a cat person. Besides, you left the second half on purpose."

She gave a quiet laughed, "It seems satisfaction lit the flame back."

He sighed, "You are clearly enjoying this, aren't you, Madam CEO."

"Indeed, I am."

+------------------------------+-----------------------+

"Your appointments for today are as follow. Please don't run away."

He chuckled, "Miss assistant, you are supposed to assist me and not join the other party against me."

"I would if you would just-"

*Bling*

"Hn? Oh. Apologies. I'll make this quick."

He heard the familiar song and smiled lowly. Didn't think his faithful assistant would play the game too.

*Bzzt* *Bzzt*

His gaming phone, given specially by Madam CEO to oversee the game, alerted him. He peaked at it in secret. She was in and out just for Stamina. Her daytime was always elusive compared to her activeness during the night.

"Nice song." He commented loosely.

"Oh. I agree. My little sister has been playing this one game on my phone. Don't get me wrong. Her current phone was not in the best shape and she was adamant on getting a new one with her own money."

"You seemed proud of her."

"Only pride for her." She smile gently.

+--------------------------+--------------------------+

"Say, Miss Assistant. What do you think of the game?"

"The one from that day?"

He nodded.

"It's interesting when she told me about it. Never played it myself. I'm just helping her with day log in. Oh, I noticed something."

"Elaborate."

"There's three characters in there but she rarely mentioned the third one. Wonder why?"

"Which one?"

"The purple hair one. She mumbled something about being a destroyer- Wait? Did you play it too, Mr. Flame?"

"You didn't know? I designed some of the things in there especially the paintings."

Her eyes widen, "No wonder it looks familiar. Oh right, the purple haired one is a painter. Wait. Is he based on-"

He put a finger to his mouth, "Miss Assistant, you're my ally in this, right?"

She sighed, "Of course. Your privacy matters most."

+----------------------------+--------------------------+

"You should be at the venue an hour before the event started."

"Let me see where is it?"

She handed her phone over, "When will you learn to have your own navigation system?"

"When-"

*Bling*

Both turned to the phone on his hand.

"Let me get it. I know a thing or two about it."

"Please don't touch anything else."

"Who do you think I am?"

"My nossy employer." He looked at her, unimpressed, as she stared at him, unfazed.

He log in.

*Bzzt* *Bzzt*

Hm?

He pulled out his gaming phone on the other hand. Both phone showed different point of view but it was the same shared scene.

Eyes unblinking. Disbelief setting in. His hand tapped the Stamina icon and exit the game. His own phone also showed the MC just exited the game.

"Interesting."

"What?"

"Apparently, your sister dislike my game counterpart."

+---------------------------+--------------------------+

He sent a second notification. Trying to test something on her, the capturer of his attention these days.

She claimed the Stamina and complained a bit. As usual.

He smirked.

He chose a prompt to see the level of loath she had for his counterpart. Akin to a challenge to tease her.

( I don't want wanna leave this place. I hope today doesn't end. )

He wondered how she would react if he kept spamming her and bothered her in-game with a lot of prompts until the game crashed on its own or she crashed first.

She chuckled. A beat triggering in his chest. Something never happened before with all this time he heard her voice.

"Me too. But you're better off with someone else than a destroyer like me."

The screen showed an empty cafe a second later.

He stared. Mind reeling.

"She didn't mean me as a destroyer. She calls HERSELF the destroyer."

Cupping his hand on half of his face, laughing rose steadily from his throat. Funny, misunderstood, annoyed.

Very annoyed because he finally realized, she hasn't called his name once.

He needed to hear it. Let himself be trapped in the trance of her supple melody.

Her gentle face ghosted the empty space he was staring at.

"Someday you'll see. Me getting through your negative thinking so that you'll only see the beauty you deserved, cutie."

His flames flickered, "Say my name."

+---------------------------+--------------------------+

She was watching the new memory. HIS memory. The first kiss. He would be delighted if not for her eyes staring away from the phone.

He pouted, "Where is she looking at?"

Her beautiful orbs should only stare at him and it did. Not without a cost.

She was hyperventilating, not breathing properly until he guides her to catch her breath to finally calm her sudden shock.

"Ra...Rafayel?"

"Yes, cutie?" Immediate response. Lips pulling without noticing.

His heart?

Being doused by fire. Crackle after crackle made it more alive than ever with every breath she took after she uttered his name in the chaos.

His heart was THE chaos now.

And she strategically ran from it by exiting the game. That does it.

His calm was over.

Let the storm brew in.

+------------------------------+----------------------+

He succeeded in catching her offguard but he hated the way she was fidgeting with her eyes looking down as if he enslaved her.

It was the opposite.

He tried to diffuse the tension. Everything was going well by having a leisure hang out.

Until it wasn't.

She exited the game with extra threats this time. To delete the game and never play it again.

Face pale, chest heaving, terrified of the thin string from his heart to her was severed.

It didn't happened. Yet.

Mind pulling and pushing puzzles on ways to let her notice him once again. What's better than using everything he had. His art and his assistant.

+-----------------------------+----------------------+

"I'm not fully convinced but I saw her spiralling down as if nothing. You better give me my sister back or else."

He gulped. Never had he seen this calm rage from his assistant, also known as his muse's older sister, before in the years they had been working together.

He gave her a reassuring smile, "She'll be fine. I know she will. We just need to wait for the perfect timing from her side."

+-------------------------+---------------------------+

He booked the whole floor of where her muse was staying.

He dressed up as a bellboy to look inconspicuous. Room service was the perfect opportunity for this.

*Bzzt* *Bzzt*

His eyes widen. Her room door was inches away from him. Stepping back, he opened the game. Glad to see her. Worrying she'll do something rash.

"...My Rafayel..."

Dolphin bit his heart and jumped out high on the open ocean. The rush he felt was surreal.

"...again..."

He was breathless. Feeling glee. Cheeks hurting.

The teasing start.

"MY RAFAYEL. GIVE HIM BACK."

This is it. He needs her. Now. In front of him. In his arm. Enslaved him all she wanted.

It's showtime.

*Knock* *Knock*

Her face between the gap of the door, how he just wanted to...

"Did you order one Rafayel, cutie?"

He angled his head to get a better look at his muse.

Let the raging sea be subdued by a touch of pure hearted maiden

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|  1  |  2  |  3  |  4  |  5 [current]  | 6 [final...] |

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Masterlist Self Aware AU

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[toppamplemousse]

f1 fic rec list

inspired to make my own fic rec list. decided to choose some of my fave fics that are under 5k hits just for those who might not have seen some of these!

please be warned - some of these do not have happy endings. it wouldn't be a list from me if there wasn't some major suffering.

lestappen fic recs:

even a Mouse by ficster28 / @ficster28 | 19.7k words | G

Charles was fifteen when his dæmon settled. It was a perfectly average age to settle, and it happened so quietly and naturally that neither he nor Moira even noticed at first. They had other things to think about: today, they were aiming to beat out Ben Barnicoat and Max Verstappen at Val d’Argenton. It wasn’t until they were getting into the kart that they realised. Moira normally transformed into an insect to race, something small enough that she could crawl inside Charles’s race suit and be protected as he drove. Today, she didn’t even try to change; they both just looked at each other, and knew. “A mouse,” he said. genuinely a fic like none other. so painful. so beautiful.

The Tides of Fate by crimsonmidnight / @mvlionheart | 14.5k words | M

When they break apart they’re both breathless and laughing, forming a symphony with the seagulls squawking nearby and the shouts of men dragging logs past the gatehouse. The world feels like an infinite expanse and nothing more than the space between them, somehow simultaneously. "You’re pretty good at that,” Max comments, hand brushing over the back of his neck “Kissing?” Charles asks. “I’ve never done it before.” “No,” Max teases. “You’re rubbish at that, but you’re a good jailbreak. Thanks for the assistance. I’ll see you around." heed the tags. prepare for heartbreak. the most beautiful tragic story.

Your Name is Charles by joesboilingpoint / @tylersayscool | 45k words | M

After running into a soldier following the burning of his commune and maddened by grief, Charles aims to shoot the man down, only to be taken down himself, waking up later on and remembering nothing of his previous life, now a soldier himself. - M is very practical about his work, seasoned in combat and skilled in spotting targets. C has seen the man in practice, seen him sweat and grunt and keep himself in shape. He’s seen him routinely climb ropes and train for ruck marches, seen him demolish his target boards. But it’s one thing to see the man train in the comfort of their home base, where it’s safe and sheltered and familiar. It’s a whole other experience watching him in action. this author nails an AU like no one else. the world building is unparalleled and the story is just incredible. ending has me in a CHOKEHOLD

blowing smoke by gurlznboyz | 7.5k (unfinished) | E

“What is it like?” “What is what like?” “Being with men,” Charles gestures. He means for it to be derisive. Cutting. His hand flails a little limply. “Is it different than with women?” “Yeah, mate,” Max says. “Fucking a guy is totally different than fucking a girl. That’s kind of the whole point, is it not?” Charles shrugs, bringing his own beer bottle up to his lips. “I would not know. I have never had sex with a man.” when charles catches max verstappen, his mortal enemy since they were all but seven, kissing a man, he tries to be normal about it. when they start falling into bed together, he becomes decidedly not normal about it. BEAR WITH ME when i say that this is one chapter so far and i think about it all the time. something just so delicious. ill be here always.

here's to all the mistakes i never made by ncr1pted / @3ncr1pted | 4.9k words | E

Charles is twenty-eight–almost twenty-nine. He's not stupid either. He knows people; knows how to play them, how to get what he wants, how they act. He can recognize the starstruck look in his teammates eyes whenever he and Charles talk. The way he follows Charles around, half a step behind. He used to look at Seb that way. when i say. the fact this is under 5k words and yet i went thru every emotion on the planet. few people understand the sebchal of it all like aries does.

love & much worse drugs by indras | 5k words (unfinished) | E

It was the night of the twelfth of December 2021. Now, if you know anything about Formula One, then you probably know the earlier events of that day. Those, we won’t get into. This story isn’t about racing. It’s about sex. In Max’s eyes, sex and racing had always been opposites. Racing for a finish line during sex would make one a selfish partner. And Max had never thought himself a selfish partner. Nor would one want to fight their partner in bed, least of all in the way that Max fought his opponents on the racetrack. And that is exactly how Max managed to compartmentalize his relations with Charles Leclerc, his longtime opponent, into two categories – sex and racing. Or, Max is a fresh world champion with an increasing alcohol-habit, and now, an image problem. like. they fucking in ch 1, they're bitching by ch 3, the hottest fic with tormented alcoholic max. sign me UP.

ok these two have more than 5k hits BUT i still think they're underrated and would implore EVERYONE to read:

on top of the world (looking down on creation) by eaurouge_sangnoir / @eaurouge-sangnoir | 67.3k words | E

Nothing came close to winning a World Championship. Nothing. Not even sex. Not that Max would know. Or; Max won his first World Championship at the age of twenty-four, still a virgin. He's finally ready to do something about it. On the other side of the hotel room door, there was Charles.

could easily my favorite fic ever. the most beautiful heartbreaking story by an author whose way with the english language is beyond compare. it's hot, angsty, sad, beautiful, i cannot cannot cannot recommend this enough. every chapter so incredible.

balaclava lines by richardmarie75 / @cornerofacry | 10k words (unfinished) | E

"He will never be yours." She freed herself from his hold. Wiped her face with her palms. "Charles. He will never be yours," she continued, gaze traveling to the trophy that stood next to his sim, gargantuan and gold. Blood and sweat in the limelight for a place in the sun. Max stared at her, immobile. or Max and Charles dump their girlfriends and find each other during the winter break. this summary barely scratches the surface of what is truly a breathtaking three chapters. this fic will never leave me. the agony and pain and the desperation and the LOVE the author conveys in such ornate, beautiful ways is beyond words.