#this playlist is maybe the longest one I’ve ever made | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

study-coffee-chicago · 1 year

Text

You Got This, Kid (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister Imagine)

A/N: I'm back! Please enjoy this imagine about what I've been going through with grad school applications and everything else these past few months. It's a long one (the longest I've ever written, clocking in at 23.7k words), so grab you might want to grab your snacks now. Finally, thank you for reading, and don't forget to reblog/like and comment!

Enjoy!

Okay, so maybe checking your email when you were out to lunch just trying to have a relaxing afternoon before taking a nap before work was a bad idea.

"Yeah?" Jay asked when he answered his phone.

"I'll know if I got into East Carolina by 6 pm today," you told him. You had been researching and applying to Ph.D. programs in clinical psychology since August and had decided to apply to five in total. It was currently January and you had yet to hear back from a single one. And, East Carolina University was your top choice.

"Oh, wow. Just take a couple deep breaths. I guess today was a bad day to have us get the new appliances put in, huh?"

"Yeah."

For Christmas, Hailey's Christmas present to herself and Jay's Christmas present to her were all new appliances in the apartment. You had no idea how they got around that since they were renting, but you had a suspicion that them both being cops had something to do with it.

"Well, the appliance people just left, so you can come home any time," Jay told you. "Think positive."

You rolled your eyes. "You know you're talking to the world's biggest pessimist, right?"

"It wouldn't kill you to be a bit more positive is all I'm saying."

"It's not like you're a ray of sunshine either, Jay."

"Fair point."

"Well, I've got two pages left of this chapter and then I'm coming home."

"Okay, drive safe," Jay told you and then you hung up the phone.

You knew you needed to get home soon because the more time you had to sleep before work tonight the better. And, you knew it would be hell falling asleep because you'd be counting down the minutes until you knew whether or not you got into ECU.

***

"This is fucking ridiculous," you muttered as you walked out of your room and into the kitchen.

"Language," Jay warned from his place at the kitchen table, case notes spread out in front of him.

"I'm 23, Jay."

"Fair point. What are you doing up anyway?"

"I can't sleep," you whined as you grabbed the kettle from the stove and began filling it with water. "And, why are you working when you're not at work?"

"I can't relax. You know that."

"Apparently I can't either," you muttered.

You felt like you were going to throw up from nerves. What if you didn't get into this Ph.D. program? And, if you didn't get into this one, what if you didn't get into the other four? If you didn't get into a Ph.D. program and a Ph.D. was required for your degree, then what were you going to do with your life?

You dug the fingernail of your pointer finger into your thumb to ground yourself. You knew it wasn't the healthiest coping/grounding mechanism, but hey, it worked.

The kettle was whistling, so you turned off the burner and grabbed a mug and a peppermint tea bag. Maybe the peppermint would help your nervous stomach settle. After all, Will told you peppermint tea was supposed to help with period cramps, so maybe it would help with this, too.

"You want some?" you offered. "I'm making peppermint."

"Sure, why not," Jay agreed.

Once your tea was finished you handed a mug to Jay. "I didn't put any milk or sugar in yours because you're a health nut."

"Now you sound like Hailey," he said and stood up to add a splash of milk to it.

"I'm gonna go read until I can't keep my eyes open," you told him. "The faster I fall asleep, the faster the time will go, so the sooner I'll know if I get in."

"Night, kid," he said.

Then, you made your way to your room and turned on a calming instrumental playlist on Spotify, turned on a lamp so that the lighting was dim, but enough that you could see, and then curled up in your bed with the book you were currently reading and your mug of hot, peppermint tea.

***

As it turns out, sleeping for a long period of time to make time go faster was easier said than done.

You tossed and turned for half an hour until your eyes were finally drooping while you were reading. And then, you woke every hour for the next three hours. The last time you woke up was 5:45 pm.

The email said you'd know your results by 6.

A knot formed in your stomach as you reached for your phone. You opened your flagged emails and located the one which had the link to the application portal. Then, with shaking hands, you clicked on it.

You took a deep breath and logged in.

You felt your heart beating out of your chest as you hit the tab that read application status.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath and opened them.

Despite the contents of your application, we are a very competitive program...please don't let this deter you from applying to other or future programs...

Tears began to prick your eyes.

"Fuck," you muttered. "No, no, no, no."

You grit your teeth to keep the tears from falling and grabbed your phone and then left your room and walked out to the kitchen, where Jay was cooking dinner.

"Hey," you said quietly.

"Hey, you didn't sleep very long—" But then, Jay saw your face. "Oh no. ECU?"

"Denied," you told him as you continued to hold back tears.

"Hey, there's still what? Four other programs you applied to? And, you just emailed a school in Florida yesterday about how to check your application status, so maybe you got in there. Did they email you back yet?"

You shrugged, Jay was always the rational one though, so you opened your phone and once again navigated to your emails. Sure enough, University of Florida emailed you back with instructions on how to check your application status.

"They emailed me."

Jay nodded, but you didn't see because you were too busy hitting the link the school had sent you and then typing in your username and password.

When it loaded, your heart dropped.

There, in big, red, bold letters after application status, it read Denied.

"No," you choked out as tears began to stream down your face. "No, no, no no! If I didn't get into either of these, how am I gonna get into Wayne State because that's the best neuropsychology school in the country? And then I only have two left and—ugh!"

"C'mere, c'mere," Jay said softly and took a step towards you and wrapped his arms around you.

"I just- I worked so hard on the applications!" you sobbed as your tears began to soak his shirt.

"I know. I know you did, kid. It's their loss. There's a school out there for you."

"But what if there's not!"

"There is." He paused and then his parental/brotherly instincts kicked in. "Now, do you want to stay here and eat or go back to sleep?"

"Go back to sleep," you mumbled.

"Okay. I'll wake you up in two hours so you don't have to set an alarm. Sound good?"

"Okay," you muttered.

When you started to make your way to your way to your room, Jay said after you, "You go this, kid."

***

It had been two days since you learned you had gotten denied admission to East Carolina University and the University of Florida. You had thought about your plan and what you were going to do next. The only options you had come up with were (1) apply to PsyD programs (more clinical, less research, but also less funded) if you could find some with later deadlines that were still accepting, (2) go to school in Europe (but that might pose issues with licensing if you ever wanted to come back to the US and practice), or (3) take yet another gap year.

You had relayed these options to Will, Jay, and Hailey the night before when Will stopped over with some I'm sorry you got rejected from two Ph.D. programs so maybe this will make you feel better coffee from one of your favorite coffee shops before your shift last night.

"Morning," Jay said when you walked upstairs later that night. Despite it being 7 pm, since you worked night shift, this was technically your morning.

"Morning," you said, your voice monotone.

"You feeling okay?" Jay asked as you grabbed the container of cold brew from the fridge and then grabbed a glass.

"Physically, yeah. Emotionally...not so much."

"Good enough to figure out your next steps?"

Luckily, you had finished pouring your cold brew and put the cap back on the container or else you knew you would have spilled it everywhere at that question. "What? I'm trying to figure it out, Jay!"

Jay put his hands out in front of him in a calm-down gesture. "I know. I'm not saying you aren't, but well, I have access to tech at the district that you don't have that might make looking for more schools easier."

"Okay...and?"

Jay muttered something under his breath about having to spell everything out for you all the time...which luckily you didn't hear. "Me, you, and Will are going to the district to do some research on grad schools."

You cocked one eyebrow. "You're trusting Will to use state resources?"

"No. God, no. He's there to research on his own laptop and then read over some of your essays...if we get that far."

You nodded. This was all just so overwhelming that despite how grateful you were for both your brothers' help, that was all you could do.

"Leave in an hour?" Jay asked.

"Yeah, yeah, that's fine. Just, give me time to shower and eat something."

And by something, you meant a piece of fruit and maybe a granola bar. Seeing how riddled with anxiety and frustration and whatever other shitty feelings you had been feeling the past two days since you got denied from the only two schools you had heard from so far, your stomach hadn't been feeling that great and your appetitive was half as much as it was before you got your results...if you had an appetite to begin with. You felt like that last complete meal you had eaten was the night you had gotten those results and Jay had dinner for you. For the past two days, you had mostly eaten what you felt like you could stomach without feeling nauseous, which was mainly smoothies, fruit, protein shakes, and snack foods. You knew your appetite would come back eventually and your nausea would go away eventually, but for now, it was here and you just had to deal with it...much like you had to deal with the fact that you had to do even more work to get into grad school than you had previously thought.

***

"I brought pizza!" Hailey announced when she got upstairs and into the bullpen. You, Will, and Jay had been researching grad schools for three hours. Jay had found two that still had deadlines open and didn't require the GRE, so you were working on writing essays to get into those.

After you finished the first one, you emailed the essay to Will and he edited it. You figured he'd be the best one to edit these essays because he'd had to write them to get into med school.

While Will was editing and making notes in the margins of your essay on google docs, you opened the links to the other schools that Jay had sent you. And, you had added two more to your list (making the total you would currently apply to four at the moment) when Hailey walked in with the pizza.

"Thank God," Will said and quickly closed his laptop. (You thanked God that you were working in google docs and that everything automatically saved so that his edits wouldn't be lost.)

"You're literally just editing," you said and rolled your eyes at how overdramatic your oldest brother was being. "I'm the one who has to look over the programs, make sure they're a good fit for me, and actually write them, and then I have to email--" you cut yourself off as your eyes widened in realization. "Oh, God."

"What? What's wrong?" Jay asked as he entered the break room with Hailey since he had been out in the bullpen because he was using one of Intelligence's desktops.

"I have to email my profs and ask them if they'll write me more letters of recommendation."

You hated doing this part because it meant that the application process wasn't entirely in your control. One of the letters of rec might not be emailed to the right email address or the application system wouldn't let you put in a certain recommender and then you'd have to contact the school and--

"Y/N." You hadn't even realized Hailey had crouched down in front of you. "You need a break."

"But I can't! I--"

"Y/N, some of those schools don't have deadlines until March or April. You can take half an hour to eat," Jay told you.

But you couldn't; your stomach was in knots just thinking about all the work you had to do.

"I'm not hungry."

Will looked you up and down. Of course, your physical appearance hadn't changed in two days obviously, but he knew how stress held itself in the body, in a person's posture; in their facial expressions. But most of all, he knew how much stress he had gone through during his med school application process and how some of his classmates could barely eat without throwing up because they had been so stressed out.

"Y/N, we know you're stressed out. But, you have to eat something. You can't write great statements of purpose that are gonna get you into a program without food in you, kiddo."

You sighed. "But I feel like I'm gonna throw up."

"It's just nerves," Will reassured. "We just want you to eat something."

You looked at Jay, hoping for once he'd side with you and not Will. "One piece of pizza," Jay said. "And then, if you still don't want to eat, you don't have to. I'll even go get you a Sprite from the vending machine downstairs to help settle your stomach."

"And, we can talk about Outer Banks," Hailey bargained. "Me and Jay just finished the new season."

"I thought you guys had four more episodes to watch!"

"Just finished it yesterday," Jay said.

"We spent half of our RDO watching that," Hailey said.

Will just looked between the three of you. "I'll go get her the pop because I have no idea what you guys are talking about."

"It's a show on Netflix! It's really good! These kids are treasure hunting and--"

"Eat your pizza, Y/N, and then maybe you can convince me to watch it," Will told you.

You took a bite of your pizza while maintaining eye contact with Will, which made Jay burst out laughing and then Will stood up to go get your pop while muttering something about you being a creeper under his breath.

"I need a John B," you said after your second bite of pepperoni pizza. "The way he held Sarah's hand all the way up the mountain, just—ugh! I love it. At first, I thought I needed a JJ because of how he broke into Kitty Hawk for Kiara, but he's a little too crazy for me."

"Uh-huh, sure, that's why you chose John B," Jay said while rolling his eyes.

"What's that supposed the mean?"

Jay grabbed a piece of pizza and took a bite without even bothering to grab a plate. This caused Hailey to gently smack him on the arm and push a paper plate into his empty hand. He took another bite and then set the pizza on the plate. "I'm just saying, don't you like brown-haired guys more?"

"They're called brunettes, Jay. And, yes. But, how the hell did you even notice that?"

"Think of all the celebrity crushes you've had over the years, Y/N."

Of course, Will had chosen that exact moment to walk back into the break room with your pop. "Oooh, we're telling Hailey all about Y/N being a crazy teenager. I love this game."

"Like you didn't have a stash of PlayBoy magazines under your bed, Will!" you shot back.

"Did you..." Will trailed off as he looked at Jay.

You burst out laughing. "He never told me anything. But you just confirmed it! Ha!"

"Y/N's first celebrity crush was Zac Efron!" Will shouted.

"Technically, it was Troy Bolton," you corrected.

Hailey just shook her head and laughed at your banter.

"And then there was Bieber—"

"No, she liked Nick Jonas before him, remember?" Jay corrected.

"Oh, yeah," Will said. "There was Nick Jonas, then Bieber, then a couple hockey players, then 5 Seconds of Summer—"

"Specifically Luke Hemings," you butted in.

Jay laughed. "You really have no shame in this do you?"

"None at all. Continue, Will."

"And...I think that's it."

"And John B, from Outer Banks," Jay said. "That's her current one."

"Is he even a real person?" Will asked.

"Nope. Now, Hailey, if you were in Outer Banks, what character would you be?" you asked and then opened your Sprite and took another bite of pizza.

She thought for a moment. "Probably Sarah. Our dads are both pretty messed up."

She said it jokingly but also matter-of-fact. Despite this, Jay still gave her a sad look but quickly recovered to his neutral facial expression. (He knew how much Hailey hated people pitying her due to her past.)

"What about you?" you asked Jay. "Wait! You have to be John B because you have to marry Sarah and you and Hailey are married."

Jay let out a chuckle. "I mean, I guess, I was gonna pick him anyway."

"Why?" you asked.

He shrugged. "He's the leader of the group. He thinks things through more than JJ. And, I'm not as smart as Pope. Will would be Pope."

"Is that a good thing?" Will chimed in.

"Yeah," you told him. "Watch the show and you'll find out."

Will just rolled his eyes.

"Who would you be, Y/N?" Hailey asked.

"Me? Oh, I'd die in the first season. I'm not the kind of person to do crazy illegal shit."

"Oh, c'mon!" Jay groaned. "You gotta pick someone!"

"Fine. I'd be Wheezy. I'd still be helping, but not in like an illegal way."

"Fair enough."

The three of you continued talking about Outer Banks as you finished another piece of pizza and a breadstick, making the total you'd eaten while you were talking two pieces of pizza and one breadstick and, seeing as you hadn't technically had a meal since you learned about your first rejection, only snacks, you considered this a win.

You pulled your laptop back out and groaned. You didn't want to keep having to write essay after essay, but you knew you needed to because that was the only going to get into a school. Despite this, you still had that nagging thought in the back of your head that all of this was for naught and you were just going to continue to get rejection emails from all the schools you worked so hard to apply to.

You rummaged through your backpack, pretending to look for your chapstick, which you knew was there. Then, you groaned and stood up and walked to where Jay was once again seated at his desk in the bullpen.

"Jay, can I have your keys? I think I left my chapstick in your truck," you lied.

Jay fished them out of his pocket. "Here, but be quick. It's dark out."

You rolled your eyes. "You know if all of this works out, I'll be in a different state in less than eight months, right?"

"Don't remind me."

You just rolled your eyes again and made your way downstairs and out the back way to Jay's truck.

You quickly unlocked it and jumped in the backseat. You just sat there as your head spun with worry, each worry connecting to another like a spider connecting pieces of a web in your mind.

Will I have to stay at my job another year or God forbid forever because there's not much I can do with a BA in psychology?

If I don't get into a program this year, will I apply next year? And, will my profs even write me letters of recommendation next year because they won't have had me in class for two years at that point?

If I have to do this for another year, should I take a couple of classes next year so that I have other professors to write me letters of recommendation and so that I can show the schools I'm applying to that I'm still learning about the field I'm going into?

When should I start looking into schools and the process of going to school in Europe if I don't hear back from all the programs I'm working on applying to soon?

What am I going to do with my life if I can't get into a program?

You jumped when someone gently tapped on the window. Then, you scooched over so that they could open the door and come inside the truck.

"Jesus, Will!" you exclaimed when he was inside and had shut the door. "Don't do that!"

"Sorry, I would've texted you, but you left your phone inside. You find your chapstick?"

"Um...about that..." you trailed off and looked away. You knew that if you started telling him your worries, you'd break down and you really didn't have time for that as you just needed a few minutes alone and then you needed to get back inside to work on the stupid essays for these stupid applications because these other stupid schools didn't want you because you needed a stupid doctorate degree for you stupid career to make stupid money and have a stupid life.

Will nodded, quickly understanding that there hadn't been a lost tube of chapstick to begin with. "You know, I didn't match for a residency at first," he told you.

You turned to face him, even though you could barely see him because it was the middle of the night. "Really?"

"Yeah, and it was terrifying."

"But you're a doctor. You have to do a residency to be a doctor."

"Mhm," Will confirmed. "I had to do the SOAP process."

"What's that?"

"It's where all the kids who finished med school who didn't match to a residency try and apply for the ones that people didn't want or are left over."

"So, you got everyone's shitty leftovers?"

Will smiled and shook his head. "Basically. I never wanted to go into plastic surgery. It seemed so..." he trailed off while he searched for a good word to describe it. "Vain," he finally said. "Don't get me wrong, there are some people who need it because of accidents and things like that, but giving rich men's wives nose jobs, that's not what I wanted."

"So, what you're telling me is to go into another specialty if it's open? Even if I don't like it," you asked. If this is what he was getting at, his pep talk wasn't a very good one."

"Sort of," Will answered. "But, there's a bit more to the story. I always wanted to go into emergency medicine, so when a job opened up at Med, I jumped at it. So, even if there's roadblocks, you'll get the career you want; you just have to be patient. You need to be a doctor in clinical psychology for your specialty, right?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, and there's a lot of things you can do with a doctorate in clinical psych, right? You don't have to go specifically into neuropsych?"

"Yeah, I'll be a clinical psychologist with the doctorate so there's other stuff I can do," you confirmed.

"Okay. Then you get into a clinical psych program and you go from there. And, if you can't do your fellowship or whatever it's called--"

"Post-doc," you told him.

"Right. If you can't do your post-doc in neuropsych, then you can do it in another specialty. Once you make some money, you can always go back and do another post-doc, this time in neuropsych, okay? This whole process doesn't have to be linear to work out. And, honestly, the application part and getting in is harder than the degree itself."

"Really?"

"Really. Now, Hailey put on a pot of coffee when I came out here, so c'mon. Let's go drink some more coffee and look at more grad schools. Jay found some options in Arizona because we know you want to go where it's warm."

"Perfect." Will opened the door to get out and you scooted over to get out of Jay's truck next. "And, Will?" He turned back to look at you. "Thank you."

He smiled and gave your shoulder a squeeze. "Anytime, kiddo."

***

"You have actual food tonight, right?" Jay asked two days later, Sunday night, when you grabbed your lunch box from the fridge to go to work. "Not just snacks?"

You rolled your eyes. "Yes, Jay." Ever since your brother noticed you weren't eating full meals, he'd been on your ass about it. But, yesterday you ate like a normal person and so far today you have, too. "Shouldn't you be finishing the game and going to bed?"

"It's at intermission. It's—"

"Don't tell me! I'll watch it at work."

"Pretty sure those sites you use to watch it are illegal, but whatever."

"Shouldn't you know for sure if they're illegal or not?"

"Well, you're not on the dark web and you're not selling anything and you're not the one uploading the games, so I'm pretty sure I can't arrest you."

"Well, that's a good thing because if I get arrested, then I can't get into grad school...not that I'm sure I'll get in now, though."

"Hey, we found what? Six programs for you to apply to? You'll get into one. But, you better get going before you're late."

"Says the man who rushes to work every morning."

"Really, it's Hailey who holds me up in the morning."

"No, it's not!" Hailey yelled from the living room. "He's the one who hogs the shower!"

"Gotta go!" you said quickly and grabbed your keys from the hook by the door before you got in the middle of their arguing.

***

About half an hour into your shift, you got a phone call asking you to come over to another building to talk to a coworker.

"I have to go talk to Tia," you told your two other coworkers.

"Tia? What does she want?" your coworker, and also one of the veteran staff at your work, Tamara, asked.

"No idea. I haven't been over to that building since the beginning of last week, so if I did something wrong, I forgot about it."

"Okay, well, see you later."

"See you," you said.

Then, you slipped on your coat and buzzed yourself out of the current building, and made the quick and chilly walk to the other building.

"Hey, where's Tia?" you asked when you walked in and saw another one of your coworkers.

"Oh, hey, Y/N," she greeted. "She's in the office."

"Okay, thanks."

You made your way into the office where Tia was sitting at the computer.

"Hey, Tia. You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yeah. What's your problem with my schedule?" she asked you rudely.

You didn't have a problem with her schedule per se, you just had a problem with there not being enough coverage with her schedule. And, since you worked at every building, you'd have nights when you worked here alone—which you shouldn't be doing, but management didn't care—because she worked long shifts for eight days straight, and then the other six, it would usually just be you or someone else working here alone and you had brought this up to your supervisor when he asked if you'd come across anything you wanted to fix.

"I- I don't have a problem with your schedule. It's just that sometimes there's only one person here and it gets hard in the mornings." Since you worked with kids, sometimes when you were by yourself, you'd have to get them out to the bus stop and that made it hard to do because you couldn't leave all the other kids in the building alone while you went to do that, so you'd have to call other buildings to see if they had a staff available to come help you. Contrary to popular belief, you couldn't be in two places at once.

"Yeah. And that happens to me sometimes, too. But we do it. And now because of what you said, my schedule might get changed—"

"That wasn't my intention, it was just—"

"Can I finish?" You nodded. "And now my schedule might get changed and this is the schedule that works for me. You only pick up here, so if you don't like it, don't pick up shifts here."

Tears began to prick your eyes. "I get scheduled here. I don't pick up." You took a deep breath. "My intention was just to figure out a way to get coverage, not to have your schedule get changed."

"Well, maybe you need to tell your supervisor that you don't want to be scheduled here anymore if you don't like the way we do things over here."

At this, the dam broke. You frantically wiped at your eyes. "I'm sorry. It's- It's not this. I just got rejected from grad school and it's just everything. Sorry."

At this, she softened. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Don't let anyone here make you cry, not even me. It's not worth it."

You nodded. "Yeah. Can I- can I go now?" You asked while trying to stop the tears from falling. You didn't feel like walking out of the office and having yet another one of your coworkers see you cry.

She nodded and you quickly wiped your eyes once more and walked out of the office, just willing your eyes to stay dry until you got outside.

You sniffled all the way until you got to one of the buildings the kids used for gym class during the day that you knew would be empty because they were all sleeping. You buzzed yourself in and then quickly made your way to the bathroom and locked yourself in a stall.

You leaned your head against the door. "Fuck," you muttered.

Everything about the past few days came flooding through you and you began to cry so hard that you could barely catch your breath. And, you weren't even an hour into your shift.

Your breath was coming out in short bursts as you pulled out your phone to text Tamara and tell her that you were in the gym bathrooms because you needed a minute and that you'd be back soon. Then, not caring that this was a bathroom, you slid down and leaned against the wall and pulled out a breathing app on your phone that you had for times like this. You hadn't had an anxiety attack or whatever the fuck this was that was prompting your frantic breathing in a year and a half, but you had kept the app because you knew you might need it one day. Today—well tonight—seemed to be that day.

You were focused on your breathing—breathe in through your nose, hold, breathe out through your mouth—for three minutes before your breathing returned to a semi-normal rate. Then, you continued the breathing exercise for two more minutes just to be safe.

When you closed the app, you saw that Tamara had texted you and asked if you were okay and if she needed to come over there. You told her you were on your way back to your building now.

Then, you pocketed your phone and splashed some water on your face, and dabbed it dry with some paper towel. Your eyes were still red, but at least you didn't have tear stains on your face. After taking one last deep breath, you left the bathroom and then the building and began your quick and cold walk back to the other building and the coworkers you actually enjoyed working with.

When you got back inside, you told your coworkers what had happened and then Tamara asked if you wanted a hug, which you gratefully accepted.

You knew a bigger breakdown over grad school rejection was going to happen eventually, you just didn't think it was going to happen at work.

And, if the first half of January was anything to go by, you were in for one hell of a month.

***

"Well, look who's finally awake," Will chirped when you walked into the kitchen after waking up for your day...which was everyone else's night.

"I went to bed at 10 am," you shot back. "And I don't like to talk to people when I first wake up, remember?"

"Oh, yeah, that's right. The one time of day when you're actually quiet."

You went to flip Will off when Jay quickly butted in. "Y/N, there's leftover pasta in the fridge for you to take to work."

"And there's loukoumades for you, too," Hailey added.

"Hailey's my favorite sibling!" you exclaimed and then began to make your coffee as you drowned out the noise of Will and Jay trying to argue about why they should be your favorite sibling...well, mostly Will because Jay knew Hailey was his better half by a long shot.

Once you made your coffee and a bowl of yogurt and fruit for breakfast, you made your way back upstairs to your room to read for a while before you started getting ready for work.

***

When you took a sip of your coffee, your lips puckered in disgust. It was way too bitter and...you had forgetter creamer.

"Ugh," you groaned and then stood up from your chair. You were so cozy with your robe and slippers on and a blanket covering your lap that you almost decided to forgo your coffee, but who were you kidding, you needed that caffeine.

You grabbed your mug of now lukewarm coffee and made your way out of your room. You started down the stairs as normal until your slipper caught the edge of one of the stairs.

***

Jay, Hailey, and Will were all still sitting at the table, each enjoying a cold beer when they heard a thump, thump, thump on the stairs above them.

Jay and Hailey's reflexes kicked in just a hair faster than Will's and they sprinted over to the steps to see you laying on the landing of the stairs with coffee spilled all over you and your head against the wall.

You swear you had never seen Jay run as fast as he did then. He cursed to himself as he bounded up the stairs two at a time and quickly crouched in front of you.

"Can you move your arm?" he asked. You hadn't noticed that your arm was placed between you and the wall. You lifted up your arm and nodded.

"My coffee," you cried.

"You can make more coffee, Y/N. Did you hit your head?"

You nodded tearfully and Jay looked back at Will. Your two brothers traded places and Jay picked up your empty coffee mug—thank God it hadn't broken—and then made his way downstairs to grab the first aid kit and some towels. Hailey followed him to give Will room to work if needed and made her way to the freezer to grab an ice pack.

"Where'd you hit it?" Will asked you and you leaned forward and put your fingers on the back of your head. Will nodded and you put your hand down and he felt around the area and looked for blood. "No blood, so that's good. There is a little bump, though. Any dizziness? Nausea?" You shook your head. "Okay, good. But, I'm still gonna have you stay home from work tonight because those symptoms can have a delayed onset, so I don't want to miss something and then have you have to be rushed to the hospital while at work. I'll write you a doctor's note if I have to."

You were about to protest because if you called out now since it was only three hours until your shift, you could get written up. But, you'd only used a single one of your sick days out of the five you had and they reset in April, so you figured you'd be fine if you explained the situation. "Fine," you agreed. "Can I go back to bed then?"

"Nope. I want you to stay up for a couple of hours. It's not good for you to go to sleep right after hitting your head even if you do feel fine. After that, you can sleep all you want. I just need to see if you puke or not."

"She good? No hospital?" Jay asked since he and Hailey had been waiting at the foot of the stairs with supplies.

"No hospital. Just stay home from work and ice her head. Doesn't look like the coffee was hot enough to burn her based on her skin and her not telling me, but if she says anything, give me a call."

"I'm right here you know!"

"Oh, we know," Will said. "But, you're still under Jay's health insurance."

You rolled your eyes and then held out a hand for Will to help you up. He did and you made your way back upstairs and to your room to quickly grab a different pair of pajamas and then head to the bathroom to take a shower to get all the coffee off of yourself.

Then, you made your way back downstairs—carefully this time—and saw that Hailey had made you a new cup of coffee and had a small plate of loukoumades sitting next to it.

"After you eat those, you need to ice your head," Hailey told you.

"Uh-huh."

"C'mon, the boys are getting the tv set up for us."

"What are we watching?"

"I may or may not have convinced them to put on Outer Banks since Will still hasn't started it."

You smiled. "Yay!"

Then, you picked up your coffee and plate of Greek donuts and made your way to the couch where Jay tried to steal one of your loukoumades, but Hailey quickly swatted his hand away.

"You already had yours. Now press play, Halstead."

***

"Y/N, hey, wake up," you heard as you felt someone shaking your shoulder. In your sleep-addled brain, it took you a moment to process that it was Jay waking you up. "Y/N, can you hear me?"

"Mhm," you answered. "Wanna sleep."

"You've slept for at least twelve hours."

This got you to roll over and check the time on your phone. 5:37 pm. You had slept for over twelve hours; Jay was right.

"What time did you go to bed?" You went to answer, but then Jay stopped you. "Wait, any dizziness? Nausea? Blurry vision? You feel like your head is going to explode?"

"I feel fine."

"Okay. So, what time did you end up going to bed?"

"I fell asleep on the couch until three, and then I woke up and went on Tik Tok until five and then I went back to sleep." You yawned. "I shouldn't be tired! What the hell?"

"Just, get up and get moving around and then you'll probably wake up more."

Then, Jay left your room, but not without turning your light on which then forced you to either get up or get up out of bed and turn off the light and go back to bed. You were already up anyway, so you figured you might as well have a slow morning before going into your shift, so you decided to just get up and go downstairs to get some food and coffee.

After making yourself breakfast and a cup of coffee, you went to the bathroom before heading back to your room and saw that you had gotten a surprise.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," you mumbled and then grabbed a tampon from the cabinet under the sink. You had just gotten your period two weeks ago, you weren't supposed to get it again! But, at least the panic attack made sense now.

You left the bathroom to once again be met with Jay.

"You didn't puke in there, did you?" he asked. "You were in there for a while."

"Jesus Christ, let me guess? Will put you up to this?"

"Yup. He told me to monitor you closely since you slept so long."

"But you still went to work today and left me by myself," you said. "And for your information, I got my period. So now I have a reason why I had a panic attack at work the other night and I'm not just crazy."

You went to grab your food from the counter but were stopped from going up to your room by your brother.

"Whoa, you had a panic attack at work? Why didn't you tell me? Or Hailey? Or Will?"

Shit. You had forgotten that you just went straight to bed after that shift and didn't tell anyone.

You sighed and sat down at the table with your food and coffee instead of going upstairs. "Because I was tired after work and I went right to bed and then I just forgot to tell you. I journaled about it though."

"That's good. Do you still want to talk about it?" he asked.

So, you launched into the story of your night of being chewed out by Tia and then having a panic attack in the bathroom.

"She had no right to talk to you like that, you know," Jay said once you were finally finished.

"I know. And she's on my shit list for it." You would've said she's on my fucking shit list for it, but you knew Jay hated when you dropped the f-bomb. A year ago, he would've hated you swearing in any capacity, but now you thought that he was finally coming to terms with the fact that you were a grown woman and would swear whether he liked it or not and whether he heard you or not.

"I knew the mental breakdown from all this school stuff was gonna come sooner or later, but I didn't think it was gonna happen at work."

Jay nodded; he honestly had no idea what to say at this moment. Did he agree? Comfort you? Finally, he settled on a mixture between comfort and encouragement while you focused on blowing on your coffee to make sure that it wasn't too hot.

"Hey, you'll get through this, alright? Just keep applying. You didn't work your ass off in school for nothing. And, it's their loss if they don't want you."

You smiled. Jay was oblivious to some things, but he always knew just what to say when you needed a pick me up.

"Thanks, Jay."

"Anytime, kid."

***

You were going to lose your damn mind. You had all this stuff to do and submit and one of the people who said that they'd write you letters of recommendation for your PhD programs said that they're really busy and they might not be able to get to the ones for the PsyD programs you were applying to. And Jay and Will heard all your bitching about this. How fucking hard was it for her to change the date and the name of the school on the letter and send it in? Unbelievable.

You couldn't think of anyone and you were running out of time to get these in.

"Fuck," you muttered.

You heard a knock on your door. "Y/N? You still up in there?"

Shit. You forgot it was Jay and Hailey's RDO today.

"Yeah, why?"

It was only half an hour past the normal time you'd be sleeping anyway.

"Me and Hailey are going out for breakfast. You wanna come? Or we can bring something back for you."

"Bring something back," you said quickly. You were not in a state to be out right now because you knew the minute that you saw lots of people, you were going to have a full-fledged breakdown.

"Okay, I'll send the menu so you can tell me what you want. Goodnight."

"Night," you answered.

***

"I'm just gonna go check on her," Jay said when Hailey asked him why he was walking towards your room instead of their room once they'd gotten home from going out for breakfast. The two had planned on having a lazy day of watching tv on the couch along with a few beers. And, instead of going to change into comfy clothes right away, Jay decided to take a peek into your room.

The sight he saw when he cracked open your door broke his heart.

You were pacing your room and pulling at the roots of your hair while your breathing came out in short bursts.

"Hey, hey," Jay said quickly as he opened the door wider and made his way into your room.

You turned around at the sound of his voice. "I- I—"

"Don't try and talk. Let's just sit down, okay?"

You nodded and he gently placed his hand on your shoulder and helped lead to your bed.

You both sat down and Jay offered you his hand for you to squeeze. You took it.

"Breathing app," you told him through your rapid breathing. "On—" Breath. "—Phone." Breath.

"Say cheese," Jay said as he put the phone in front of you, screen-facing, so that he could open it. "What's it called?"

"Ti-ide," you said and grabbed his arm.

"Tide?" You nodded. "I gotcha, I gotcha," he said and then sat down next to you and held the phone between the two of you. "In," he narrated as you watched the circle on the app expand. "Hold..." Pause. "Exhale." The circle deflated.

"It's not--"

"Just keep breathing," Jay encouraged. "Think of a bubble, just like on the app."

You continued to hold on to his arm and continued to follow the breathing on the app for six more minutes.

Jay handed your phone back to you after he saw your breathing had evened out and you confirmed you were okay.

"Is this what happened at work the other night?" he asked gently.

You nodded. "I think I need to go to the doctor. I can't keep living like this, Jay!"

"I know you can't. And I'll do everything in my power to help you. But, don't you mean therapy?"

"No, a doctor. My period's being all weird and my anxiety's bad and maybe I need to be on Xanax or something. I can't keep doing this!"

"I know. Do you know why this happened? For my PTSD, there's always a trigger, was there one for you?"

"Just all this grad school stuff."

"Still can't think of anyone else to write you a letter?" You shook your head. "Could you use your supervisor at work?"

"Probably," you answered. "Maybe I'll use my old one from when I was on dayshift though because I like her better."

"Okay, send her an email. The worst she can say is no."

"And then I'll have to think of another person--"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there. For now, just email her and then schedule a doctor's appointment. You should be able to do it online. And, me and Hailey got you some food so come out and grab it whenever you're ready. I'll put it in the fridge for you."

"Thanks, Jay."

He didn't know if you meant the help with the panic attack or the help with grad school or getting you food, but no matter which one you were thanking him for, the answer was still the same: "Anytime, kid."

***

"Okay, Y/N," Hannah said when you came to see her in the ED one day. (This was a planned appointment, but you knew she could possibly have to run out of the appointment if she is needed in the ED.) "So it says here in your online chart that you wanted to come in because of irregular periods and anxiety?"

"Yeah," you answered.

"And how long have your periods been irregular?"

"A month and a half, two months," you answered. "Around the time I started getting rejection letters for grad school."

"Yeah, Will's told me you've been applying. I bet that's really stressful."

"Yeah, it is. And now I have to apply to different degree programs because I didn't get into Ph.D. programs, so it's been a lot."

"Well, stress can play a big role in our cycle. So, what I'm gonna do is ask you some questions and then do the physical exam, see if there's anything I can find that could be causing this. I also want to run some labs just to check your blood work."

"Okay, but does it have to be fasted?" you asked. "Because I just came from work, so there's food in my system."

"I'd be concerned if there wasn't food in your system after working all night," Hannah joked. "But no, it doesn't have to be fasted. I mainly want to get your thyroid levels checked.

"Now, the anxiety, tell me about that. Is it more general? Is it panic attacks? When does the anxiety start? That kind of thing."

"Um, it's more general, I guess. I've only had two panic attacks, but I get like anxiety attacks when I see that there's gonna be a lot of people."

"A lot of people like what? Can you give me an example?"

"Like if I'm at the gym and there's a lot of people there, then I want to leave because I'm getting anxious."

"Okay, so in looking at your chart, I saw that you're on an antidepressant. So, based on what you just told me, there are two options. The first is that I can put you on hydroxyzine, which is an anti-anxiety medication that you can just take as needed. Or, I can increase your dosage of antidepressants and get you set up with one of our social workers here at the hospital who can teach you some coping skills or refer you to a therapist," Dr. Asher told you.

"Is there any way my body could constantly be PMS-ing? Because I used to get anxious around my period and now I'm having my period a lot more, so could that be it?" you asked.

"It definitely could be, which is why I want to have you get your labs done so we check your thyroid levels. But, if you don't want to do anything with your meds, we can always just have you meet with the social worker and see how that goes."

"What would you recommend? In terms of the hydroxyzine?" you asked.

"You've told me you've only had two panic attacks so far, so based on that, I think you could do either way with the medication. We could always increase your antidepressants and then when I follow up with you in a month, if nothing's changed, we can get you some hydroxyzine. It's completely up to you."

"Okay, let's just up my meds for now and if I need to go on the hydroxyzine later, I can."

"Okay, perfect, let me go get someone to get those labs done and then you're free to go."

"Thanks, Hannah."

***

3 days later

When you woke up, you saw that you had a voicemail and that it was from Hannah. You assumed it was regarding your labs.

"Hi, Y/N, it's Doctor Asher. I have some information I'd like to share with you concerning your test results from the blood panel that was done. These charts are also available in your online chart if you would like to see them. Please call me back when you get the chance. And if I don't answer your call, please leave a message with the best time that you can be reached. Have a good day."

You quickly logged into your chart to see the results yourself since you knew that your results would be there.

What you saw was something that you assumed might be the problem based on the research you had done on your own since you went to see Hannah a few days ago. (There was no way in hell you were talking to Will about this, and you had to beg and plead with Jay to convince him not to talk to Will about it. But, in the end, he agreed because you cited that he wouldn't be able to give you the check-up in the ED anyway since he was family, and by law, he couldn't do that. And, you also promised that if it was anything serious or if there was anything wrong at all, you would loop Will in yourself or that you would give Jay permission to loop him in.)

Your thyroid levels were slightly elevated, and in the notes, it said that during the physical exam, your thyroid did feel a bit enlarged. Because of this, Dr. Asher would recommend having an ultrasound of the thyroid...At least, that's what you gathered from all the medical jargon you read. And, because of said jargon, you assumed that this is why Hannah wanted you to call her back so that she could explain it to you.

You called her back.

"Hello, this is Dr. Asher," she greeted when she picked up.

"Hey, Hannah, it's Y/N Halstead. I'm calling because you told me you had my test results back."

"Yes, I do. Just give me one second to get it pulled up here..." There was a pause on the line and you could hear her typing away on the computer. "Here it is. Did you get a chance to look at your results from your online chart yet? If not, I can read the results to you over the phone."

"I looked at them," you told her.

"Okay, so what I'm going to do is just break down the results for you and then tell you the next step. Feel free to stop me at any time with any questions, okay, Y/N?"

"Okay, yeah."

She broke down the results for you and they were exactly what you had assumed from your online chart...and what was actually written in your online chart. But, you assumed that it was just standard protocol for her to have to break down the results to you over the phone or in person.

"So we just want to get an ultrasound of your thyroid to see if the thyroid is actually enlarged since your thyroid hormone levels were slightly elevated and your thyroid gland was slightly enlarged from what I gathered from the physical exam," Hannah finished.

"So, what happens now? Like, after the ultrasound?" you asked.

"If the thyroid isn't enlarged, then we just continue what we talked about, taking the increased dose of Zoloft and then meeting with the social worker and following up with me in a month about the anxiety and the irregular periods," she told you. "But, if the thyroid is enlarged, we'd put you on medication for that so that your levels can stabilize."

"Okay."

"Any more questions?"

"Nope," you answered.

"Alright, well, I'm gonna give you the number for scheduling so that we can get you scheduled for that ultrasound of the thyroid. But, feel free to call me or send me a message on your online chart if you have any other questions or concerns, okay?"

"Okay, thanks, Hannah."

"No problem, Y/N."

She gave you the number and told you to have a good day and then you said the same to her and ended the call.

You grabbed your book and started to walk upstairs to tell Jay when you thought of something: he might not even realize that you could get an ultrasound for other things besides being pregnant. Your other brother knew this, but you weren't sure if this one did.

These next few minutes were going to be really interesting.

***

At least, you thought it was going to be the next few minutes. Turns out, you had a few hours to talk to Jay because all he told you was a raid went sideways. Granted, it was mid-week, and for some reason, crime was slow during on Monday and Tuesday and ramped up a bit on Jay and Hailey's RDO, which was Wednesday, and they'd usually come back on Thursday to a full-fledged case. It was almost like criminals hated Mondays as much as the rest of the world did.

So, to calm your nerves about grad school and everything else that was a fucking mess in your life, you decided to make yourself—and Jay and Hailey—pasta salad with chicken for dinner.

You turned on one of the tv shows you had to catch up on and then started boiling the water for the pasta and took the veggies out of the fridge along with a cutting board from the cabinet and a knife from the knife block to start chopping up the veggies.

***

An hour later, you had let the chicken nuggets and the pasta cool in the fridge for half an hour and had just finished cutting up the chicken nuggets and were about to mix everything together when the door opened.

"Hey, I made pasta salad for dinner—" You turned. "Will? What are you doing here? I thought you were Jay or Hailey."

"Jay told me you had a doctor's appointment a couple days ago and I figured I'd come over and check you out, see what's the matter, and then start the Hawks game with you guys."

"And Jay knows you're coming over? Did he tell you to come over? Or just tell you I had a doctor's appointment?" you asked, stopping your stirring of the pasta salad so that you could give him your full attention...and to make sure you were making eye contact to try and figure out if he was lying to you or not.

"He just told me you had a doctor's appointment the other day and that he's worried about you. I told him I'd come and check you out, but that's all he told me." Will's phone buzzed. "Speak of the devil. It's Jay. Said he and Hailey are picking up Gino's on the way home." He glanced at the bowl in front of you. "But, it looks like you already made something, so..."

"I'll just save it for lunch for the next couple of days; I'm not passing up Gino's pizza." Will tapped his phone screen a few times. "What did you just tell him?" you asked and took the spoon from the pasta salad that you had begun to stir once again and pointed it at him.

"Just gave him a thumbs up. Now, tell me what's going on, and finish making your food so I can give you a check-up."

"Don't really wanna tell you," you mumbled.

"Hey, whatever it is, I promise you I've seen worse. Nothing will phase me. Unless you're pregnant. Then there might be some issues, more with Jay than with me, but still."

"It's the exact opposite of being pregnant."

"So, you're not pregnant?"

"No, I'm not pregnant, Will! Jesus."

"That's the same thing that Mary thought when she was pregnant with Jesus."

"Will!"

"Fine, fine. I won't push you. But, I can promise you that whatever it is, I've seen worse. Plus, If you don't tell me, I'll just convince Jay to tell me."

You sighed. Jay still didn't know that you needed an ultrasound for your thyroid, so maybe telling Will first would help so that Jay doesn't pop off on you when he hears the word ultrasound and his brain automatically goes to pregnancy.

"Just, let me stir this and cover it and put it in the fridge first."

Will nodded and sat down and you finished stirring the pesto into the pasta salad and then covered it with Saran Wrap and placed it on a shelf in the fridge.

Then, you sat down in your usual spot at the table.

"I've been getting my period a lot," you told him.

Will nodded, his eyebrows furrowing as you knew his brain was running through all the possible medical problems that have period issues as one of their symptoms. "How much is a lot? Like, constantly? And when did it start?"

So you went into the whole spiel you had already told Hannah, including the increased anxiety and what you and Hannah had decided to do about it.

"Does Jay know about this?" Will asked after you were finished.

"He knows about everything except the ultrasound. I just got those results a few hours ago."

"Do you have them on your online chart?" Will asked and you nodded. "Mind if I take a look?"

"Knock yourself out," you told him and then opened your phone and navigated to your test results on your online chart and then passed him your phone.

You sat in silence for a minute while Will looked over the results.

"So, you need an ultrasound of your thyroid?" he asked, even though he already knew that it was recommended from what he read on your chart, he didn't know if you had agreed to it.

"Yeah. I was gonna ask you to come with me though after I told Jay and Hailey tonight because I've never had an ultrasound done before," you said.

"Of course, I'll come. Just tell me the date and time and even if I'm working, I'm sure Maggie can cover for me after I explain what's going on. You want me to tell you what happens at an ultrasound?"

"I know what happens," you answered. "They put gel on me and then they put this wand thingy over top so that they can look at my insides."

Will stifled a laugh at how you described it, but he had to give it to you, you were right. "That's exactly what happens. Now, can I feel your neck so I can see if I can feel if your thyroid is enlarged?"

"On one condition." He cocked an eyebrow at you, silently urging you to continue. "You have to tell Jay that I'm getting an ultrasound because he'll flip out and think I'm pregnant if you say it."

"Deal."

***

"Anything from the doctor?" Jay asked as he put a slice of deep-dish pizza on your plate and then passed it to you.

"Which one?" you asked and looked at Will.

"I mean, did you tell him what's going on?"

"I did," you confirmed.

Now Jay's attention was wholly on Will. "So, what do you think is going on?" Jay asked Will.

"Well, I wasn't the one who examined her, but I did what I could here and read the results of her thyroid test."

"And what did they say?"

"I'm right here, guys!" you exclaimed, causing Hailey to laugh.

Jay turned to you. "Yeah, but you're not a doctor, so I want to hear it from someone who understands doctor language himself."

"Technically, it's medical terminology," you muttered and then began eating your pizza, curious as to how Will was going to reveal to your non-doctor brother that you were going to have an ultrasound and the reason for it was not because you were pregnant.

"She has to get an ultrasound," was what Will decided on.

"What?!" Jay exclaimed. "I thought you couldn't get your period when you're—"

"She's not pregnant, Jay! She needs an ultrasound of her thyroid," Will clarified.

Hailey was just laughing at how stupid her husband was while you just rolled your eyes. "I could've done that," you told Will.

"And I should've taken a video! That was priceless!" Hailey chimed in.

"And she needs an ultrasound because...?" Jay prompted Will.

And so Will launched into the details that he was better fit to explain than you were while you just ate your pizza.

"And you'll come to the ultrasound with me?" you asked Will once again, just to double-check. "I've never had one done before and what if something's really wrong with me?"

"First off, the worst case scenario is that you have to go on a medication for your thyroid," Will began. "And, yes, I'll go with you. Just tell me the time and date and I'll come and wait with you. I don't think I can go in, since the rooms are pretty small in radiology and you're not a minor, but I'll be in the waiting area the whole time."

"You promise?"

"I promise. And if it's a day I'm working, I'm sure Maggie could cover for me," he repeated.

"Okay."

"So, how's the applications coming?" Will asked.

You groaned. "Ugh, don't remind me. I've submitted all of them except I just have to resend my transcripts to one of them in Arizona because I sent it to the wrong email address."

"How do you send it to the wrong email address?" Jay asked.

"He wouldn't know because he didn't go to college," Will fake whispered to his sister-in-law who was sitting next to him. Jay just rolled his eyes.

"I sent it to the psych department, not the graduate admissions committee," you answered.

Jay nodded. "Any word from the school in Hawaii yet?"

"Nope. You'd know if there was."

"You just want to go to Hawaii, babe," Hailey said.

"Yeah, and? Beats winters in Chicago."

"And it's super expensive, so hopefully I'll get assistantships or scholarships," you said.

"What about the one in Chicago, Y/N?" Hailey asked. "I know that's bottom of your list because it's cold and because Jay would pressure you to stay at home—"

"I would not!"

"Yes, you would!" you, Will, and Hailey yelled, causing Jay's eyes to widen.

"Uh, that was freaky. How about you guys never do that again, okay?" Jay said. "I thought it was the beginning of February; not Halloween."

"Hailey, I don't know what you see in him," you told her, causing Jay's jaw to drop.

"Hey! For your information—"

"I didn't hear back from anyone yet," you said loudly, cutting Jay off before he said something that would discreetly hint at his sex life with Hailey. "And when I do, I'll tell you guys. Now, can we finish eating and watch the game? I really don't want to have to think about this more than I have to."

Hailey nodded in understanding, since she too suffered from anxiety and then she proceeded to tell the story of the antics that Adam and Kevin had been up to today in the bullpen while everyone had been listening to the wire for their latest case (which they now had a lead on and would be picking up tomorrow, hence Jay and Hailey getting home later than usual).

***

One week later

"So, Y/N, tell me about what's going on," the social worker, Marsha, asked you at 12:45 pm that afternoon as you sat in her office for your scheduled appointment on your day off (as in, you hadn't had to work the night before, but had to work tonight. Even Jay got confused with your schedule sometimes. Will, on the other hand, understood since he had worked many a night shift during his residency).

And so, you launched into the story about grad school and anxiety.

"So, I can definitely refer you to a therapist if you would like that," Marsha said. "Or, I can work with you and teach you skills to manage your anxiety."

You'd always had some anxiety, it had just increased in recent weeks because of the rejections you'd gotten and all the added stress of trying to find another program that still had open applications.

"I think I want to learn some skills," you answered. "Seems like this is just gonna be something I have to live with."

"Ok, so I want to tell you about anxiety and why it happens and how it's sometimes a good thing and then we can move on to some skills you've tried..."

***

"And I'm gonna give you some homework this week," Marsha said at the end of your session. She passed you a piece of paper. "All I want you to do is notice when you have anxiety and what the physical symptoms are. You don't have to write them on this piece of paper; it's just a list of possible physical symptoms and the anxiety pyramid that we talked about if you want to reference them if you want. All I want you to do is notice when your anxiety flares up. Then, we can figure out what to do in these types of situations."

"Okay, sounds good," you told her.

Then, she stood up and you followed her out of her office and back into the waiting room. "You know your way out from here?" she asked.

"Yup," you answered.

When in reality, you didn't. But, Will said he'd meet you outside the waiting room doors at 1:50 to go with you to your ultrasound appointment in the radiology wing, and it was currently 1:55.

"You're not in your scrubs," you said when you saw him right when you opened the doors to the hallway.

"Nope. Ms. Goodwin gave me a half day today, so we can get lunch after if you want."

"As long as we can get coffee for me to bring to work, sure." You noticed his backpack. "Can you put these in here?" you asked, holding the two pieces of paper out to him. "I only brought my lanyard with all my keys and stuff."

"Yup." He took the papers from you and put down his backpack and put the papers inside. "You ready?"

"Yeah. You promise it won't hurt?" you asked, slightly nervous.

"I promise. It might just feel a little cold at first."

***

"See? I told you it wouldn't be so bad," Will said once you were out of the ultrasound.

"Yeah. But I won't know the results for a few days so can you—"

"I'm not gonna look at your chart and tell you the results," Will stated as you exited the waiting room.

"But why not? I give you full permission so it's not against HIPAA."

"Technically, it is because I can't just go in there and look at a family member's chart. That, and I'm not a radiologist. When they send you the results, I can look them over if you let me see them. But, before then, I can't. And, I'd trust a radiologist's opinion on this more than mine."

"Fine. Now, how about IHOP for lunch?"

"Already a step ahead of you. It'll be ready for pickup in ten minutes."

"And you got me the pancakes I like?" you asked and narrowed your eyes at him.

"Yes, I got you the cinnamon roll ones."

You broke out into a smile. "You're my favorite brother...just don't tell Jay that. He thinks he's the favorite."

***

One week later, late February

You got your results back. After skimming them, you figured you'd understood them, but wanted to call Will just in case. And he confirmed it. There was nothing wrong with your thyroid.

"So it's all in my head?" you asked. "My body hates me because I'm stressed? God, I can't even do basic human functions right."

"Y/N, what did I tell you? It's normal to be stressed out like this. It's a big thing," Will said over the phone.

"Don't you think I know that?! This is my whole career here! My whole life!" You took a deep breath. "Sorry. I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that."

"It's okay," he said. "You're super stressed out. But, you'll get in somewhere."

"Yeah, that's what everyone keeps saying." Then, your phone vibrated. "Hang on. That might be a school."

"They're calling you? That's a good sign, Y/N."

"They're not calling me; I put their emails as important so it'll notify me. I'm putting you on speaker while I read this."

You quickly put Will on speaker and then navigated to your emails. "It's the one in Hawaii," you told him. You held your breath as you opened the email. You skimmed it. And you stayed silent.

"What? What's it say?"

"I didn't get in," you said quietly.

"Aw, man. I'm sorry, kiddo. But, you still have five more to hear back from."

"Yeah. I just...I really wanted to go to school in Hawaii," you lamented. "I know it was a long shot to get in because I missed their priority deadline because I was still waiting on my Ph.D. application results, but still."

"Hey, look at it this way," Will began, "when you're making bank as a world-renowned neuropsychologist, you'll have more than enough money to vacation there a few times a year. Just make sure you don't forget to bring your favorite brother with you."

You rolled your eyes. "I dunno about world-renowned."

"Fine. USA-renowned."

"Goodbye, Will," you laughed.

"Bye, kiddo. Have a good night at work. Maybe drink a glass of wine before going to work. Just... don't tell Jay I said that. You've got what, seven hours before your shift?"

"That's actually a good idea. I'll swipe some of Hailey's pink Moscato. She's fine with it. She barely drinks it anyway."

"Alright, just one glass," Will reiterated.

"Bye, Will."

***

Two weeks later, early March

You woke up and checked the time. 2 pm. You still had two hours to sleep until your alarm went off. But, as was customary for the past two months, you navigated to your emails.

There, at the top, was one from Southern Arizona University.

You felt like you couldn't breathe as you opened the email.

Hello,

We have reviewed your application, evaluated your credentials and letters of recommendation, and would like to invite you to interview in person for the Doctoral program (Psy. D.) in Clinical Psychology at the SAU campus.

Your jaw dropped as you continued reading the finer details such as the date, time, location, and how to RSVP.

Today was Wednesday, Jay and Hailey's RDO.

You ran out of your room.

"Jay! Jay! Jay!" you yelled.

He immediately woke up from where he had been dozing off on the couch with Hailey next to him who had been wide awake. She grabbed her phone while he jumped up.

"What? What's wrong? What hurts?" he asked as he quickly looked you over.

"No, no nothing's wrong! I got an interview with Southern Arizona! It's in person in two weeks!"

"That's great, Y/N!" Hailey said at the same time that Jay said, "See? I told you that you'd get in somewhere!"

"I didn't get in yet, Jay," you told him.

"I know, but you're still one step closer."

You pulled out your phone. "I know Will's working, but I gotta text him and tell him!"

Hailey groaned as she looked at her phone's calendar. "Shit, Jay. We have that mandatory training that week for our detective's recertification."

Jay threw his head back and groaned. "It's not even that important. Voight and Platt will let us out of it."

"You know this isn't their call. It's the Ivory Tower that schedules this one. And it's the last one of the quarter. We don't go to this one..."

"We can't work until mid-April at the earliest. We'll be suspended," Jay finished.

"Exactly."

"Will can come with me," you said. "I can't just not go and I'm not going to Arizona by myself."

"Yeah, even if Will has to work, we'd find someone to bring you," Jay said. "Maybe Kim as a backup. No way in hell are you going to Arizona by yourself, you're damn right about that."

"Listen, we'll figure out the logistics of everything later," Hailey said. "For now, you just go back to bed so you're not too tired at work and then focus on being prepared for your interview. Just forward the email to me and Jay so we have the right place and date and time and we'll get everything figured out, okay?"

You smiled. "Okay."

"Now go back to sleep. You're going to Arizona for that interview no matter what," she reassured you.

"And, you're gonna do great," Jay added.

"I haven't even prepped for this yet."

"Still, I know you," Jay started. "You're gonna practice and know everything and then you'll do great. Now try and get some sleep before you have to go in tonight."

You nodded and turned around, still with a giant smile plastered on your face.

***

Five days later, Monday

You rolled over and checked the time. Fifteen minutes until you planned to get up, so you knew you wouldn't be able to go back to sleep no matter how hard you tried.

You immediately navigated to your emails as you had done for the past two months.

There, at the top, was one from Kansas City Health College and University in Missouri.

Hi, Y/N!

We have reviewed your application, and the committee is interested in offering you an opportunity to interview. Are you available this week or next?

Your jaw dropped and you broke out into a smile.

Another school wanted you! You might have options now!

You knew Hailey and Jay were unlikely to be home right now, so you went to your text messages and opened the group chat between you, Jay, Hailey, and Will.

I got an interview for Kansas City! you wrote.

Not even fifteen seconds later, your phone rang.

"Did you get my text?" you asked when you answered Will's phone call.

"I did," Will confirmed. "Good job! But, is the interview in-person?"

"I don't know," you answered. "I'll email them."

"Okay, just let me know. They approved my PTO request to come to Arizona with you in a couple weeks, but I don't know if I can swing another vacation. Jay or Hailey might have to go with you to this one."

"Okay, and it's an eight-hour drive from here, so we don't have to fly there if the interview is in-person."

"It seems short now, but it won't feel that way when you're driving for that long."

You rolled your eyes. "Uh-huh. Did you look up flight tickets for Arizona yet?"

"That's what I was doing before I called you. Is it your weekend off before the interview or after the interview?"

"Before the interview," you told him.

"Okay. I work a shift on Saturday, so the earliest we could fly out is Sunday morning. Then we have all day Monday to look at Pheonix and apartments and stuff and Tuesday you have to interview and we could fly home Wednesday or Thursday. How long did you take off for?"

"I have to go back into work that Thursday night."

"Okay, so we'll fly back Wednesday night, then you can sleep all day Thursday because my next shift is on Friday."

"Okay. And, I can stay at your house the night before if it's an early flight, right? I am not driving to your house at 3 am. Or you can sleep on the couch here."

"If it's early, it's probably better that you stay over here because I won't get home from work until 8:30 and then I'll probably have last-minute stuff to do. You know how it is."

"Yeah."

"Okay, well I'm gonna go so you email them and I can keep looking up flights. I'll let you know everything when I figure it all out."

"Sounds good."

Then, the two of you said your goodbyes and you emailed the school and responded to Jay and Hailey's congratulations texts.

Even if it was only two interviews out of the eleven schools total you had applied to so far, you were getting somewhere.

***

Four days later, Friday, day of virtual Kansas City interview

You opened the fridge and grabbed a hard seltzer just when you heard someone clearing their throat. You turned around with a sheepish expression on your face to see Jay standing there.

"So, we're drinking at 7:30 in the morning now, are we?" he asked.

"Your 7:30 in the morning is my 7:30 at night," you told him. "And, I have my interview later. Need something to calm my nerves before I go to bed."

"You've practiced more than enough; you'll do great. You don't need alcohol to calm your nerves."

He was right of course, on both fronts, but you weren't going to tell him that. You had researched questions you might be asked during your interview and then wrote down your answers and quizzed yourself multiple times until you were confident that you knew everything. You even had your coworkers quiz you on them last night and had Jay quiz you on them Wednesday night so that you knew for a fact that you knew everything. There were obviously questions that could come up that you weren't prepared for, but you had prepared for it as best you could with the information you currently had.

"I know," you begrudgingly agreed. "But still, let me do this. It's not like you haven't drank to calm your nerves before."

"She's got a point, Jay," Hailey said, seemingly appearing out of nowhere and maneuvering around Jay to get to the counter and begin making herself a cup of coffee.

"Why are you always on her side?" he asked.

"Technically, I'm not taking sides, just stating a fact. Let her have the drink. It's not like she's gonna get drunk. She's too smart to get drunk hours before her interview anyway."

"Thanks, Hailey," you said and then walked past Jay, who made no move to argue with you.

"Just, remember to put the can in the recycling when you wake up. And good luck with the interview later. Don't miss your alarm," he told you.

"I won't. I set one for like every minute from when I need to wake up to ten minutes after," you reassured.

And, when you made your way to your room, you could've sworn you heard Jay whsiper something along the lines of You're gonna be the death of me? You know that, right? to Hailey.

***

You felt like the interview went well. There were only two questions you hadn't practiced answering: (1) tell me about working with people from diverse backgrounds and (2) tell me about a time you had too much on your plate. How did you go about handling that?

Not to toot your own horn, but you felt like you gave pretty good answers to those questions despite being under pressure and not having practiced those beforehand.

Now though, it was time to calm down and try to go back to sleep for a few more hours before work. You had only gotten five hours of sleep before the interview and wanted to get at least another three before having to wake up again, do your morning routine, and go back to work.

So, now you needed to calm down and fall asleep without taking melatonin. So, you decided to go take a nice hot shower.

You didn't take long, only about fifteen minutes, and the minute you went and sat down in your bed to read to try and get your adrenaline to go down a bit more, your phone rang.

Will.

"Hey," you answered.

"So, how'd it go?" he asked. Honestly, he seemed more excited to talk about this than you did.

It was at this moment that you actually grasped how well you might have actually done during the interview phase.

"It actually went really well! There were only two questions I didn't know the answer to."

And then, you talked to Will about what the questions were and the answers you gave so that you could be prepared for your interview with SAU in a little under two weeks.

"Well, I'm gonna let you go so you can get some sleep, okay?" he said.

"Yeah. Hopefully reading for a bit will make me tired. I already took a hot shower to calm down, and it's calmed me just a little bit."

"It's the nerves," Will began. "You've been trying to get to this point for so long and all your adrenaline just hit you. You'll crash soon and sleep hard, though. Go, I dunno, make some tea to drink while you read or something," he suggested.

"That's actually a good idea. Thanks, Will."

"Anytime, kiddo. Now try and get some sleep. Make sure to text Jay and Hailey that the interview went well too because they probably want to know even if they're out chasing criminals all over the place."

"Doubt they could get to their phone to see the text if they're chasing people," you pointed out.

"You know what I mean. Now get some sleep."

***

5 days later, Wednesday

You woke up to someone gently touching your shoulder and saying your name.

"Y/N, you okay?"

Jay.

You grumbled, "Mhm. Why?"

"It's ten o'clock at night," he answered.

You rolled over and touched your phone, causing the screen to illuminate. Lo and behold, Jay was right. 10:02 pm.

You had worked six days straight since it had been your weekend on, and normally after these long stretches, you did sleep like ten hours, but you had never slept twelve. Granted, you did go to bed at around 10 am instead of your usual 8:30 because you had a doctor's appointment to follow up on your irregular periods (which were getting back to normal finally) and then you woke up around 1 pm for about an hour, but still, it was weird that you had slept this long.

"Guess I was just tired," you said. "I'll get up soon."

"Don't sleep all night. That's gonna mess you up for your shift tomorrow night."

"I know, Jay. I've been on nights for eight months now; I think I know what I'm doing."

"Okay, well, there's dinner in the fridge if you want some."

"Thanks."

Then, he left your room and you turned on your bedside lamp and sat up in bed, and opened your phone.

As was normal for you now, you navigated to your emails to see if you had heard back from any schools.

A few emails down was one that made your breath catch in your throat and your hands begin to shake.

From: Kansas City Health College and University

Subject line: Update KCHCU Admissions

You opened it and there was what looked to be a scanned document with the school's logo on top and the very first word was bolded and in cursive.

Congratulations!

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped. You felt your heart beating out of your chest.

We are pleased to inform you that you have been admitted *with a Conditional Acceptance* to our program of: Doctor of Clinical Psychology (PsyD) for the Academic Year 2023-2024.

We hope this is one of many achievements in your professional career as a result of your continuous efforts.

*Please be aware that this is not your official acceptance notification. Official acceptance letters will be sent out upon completion of the required documents. Please fill out the attached documents as soon as possible.*

Sincerely,

The Admissions Office at Kansas City Health College and University.

A huge smile formed on your face as you shot out of bed and ran to Jay and Hailey's bedroom.

You quickly knocked on the door. "Nobody better be naked in there because I'm coming in!"

Without waiting for a reply, you opened the door. And, luckily, the only piece of clothing Jay was missing was a shirt (and you could see this because he had quickly sat up in bed and turned on his bedside lamp just as you opened the door).

"Some of us have to work in the morning, you know," Jay said.

At this, Hailey walked out of the bathroom, clad in her pajama bottoms and a t-shirt with her hair wrapped in a towel.

"You probably laid down two seconds before she knocked on the door," Hailey said.

"Technically, it was ten seconds," Jay sassed.

"Yeah, yeah," you said dismissively. "But I checked my emails and I got into Kansas City!" you exclaimed.

Hailey gasped. "Yay! Congratulations!" Then she made her way over to you and gave you a hug.

"See, I told you you could do it," Jay said and stood up and hugged you, too. "But, your first pick is still Arizona, right?"

"Yup," you told him. "But at least I have a backup school now if I don't get into SAU."

"So, what do you have to do now?"

"Fill out some documents." You passed him your phone. "Here's the email."

Jay told you to make sure you send in the documents by the deadline, which caused you to roll your eyes.

"Don't you have to pay something to secure your spot?" he asked.

"I think so," you said. "But it shouldn't be a ton, so if I get into SAU and have to tell them I decided to go to another school, I shouldn't be losing out on too much."

"Okay, good. See, I told you you'd get in somewhere."

"And I still have another interview."

"And you better text Will before he gets mad he had to hear it from one of us," Hailey pointed out.

"Oh, yeah," Jay agreed. "You better do that."

"I'll do that right now. Get some sleep, you guys."

"Night, Y/N, I'm so proud of you," Hailey said and gave you another hug.

"Night, kid," Jay said and gave you another hug as well.

Then, you made your way out of their room and into the kitchen to make yourself some food and coffee. As you were waiting for your coffee to finish brewing though, you made sure to text Will to let him know that you had at least gotten into one school, even if you considered it your backup school.

***

4 days later, Sunday

Your alarm sounded at 3:30 am and you silently cursed Will for wanting to get out on the first flight available. You rolled over and groaned into your pillow, but then quickly decided to get up because you knew if you kept laying down, you'd fall back to sleep and then Will would have to wake you up and you'd have to rush or you'd end up missing your flight altogether.

You heard the shower running as you grabbed your overnight oats from the fridge and then popped a pod into the Keurig.

Ten minutes later, you were rubbing your eyes and trying to stay awake while finishing your coffee when Will came into the kitchen.

"Morning," he greeted.

You groaned in response, looked up, and took another sip of your coffee. "I only slept five hours."

"And, I only slept three."

"That's not healthy for you."

"Neither is five."

You glared at him and he just smiled.

"Do you have Dramamine?" you asked.

"In my backpack. You should probably take it when we get to the airport, though."

"As long as I can get more coffee at the airport."

"You and me both," Will agreed.

***

You were not happy, let's just put it that way. There were so many people at Midway (since Jay wasn't flying with you, you and Will could fly out of Midway. Jay basically had a phobia of this airport now because he was abducted from here years ago) even though it was a 6 am flight on Sunday, that you and Will couldn't get more coffee.

"I'm gonna go find a vending machine," you said. "Can I have your card?" you asked.

You had time before you needed to board your flight and by finding a vending machine, you wouldn't have to waste time waiting in line. And, Will had told you to only bring your ID and some cash because he didn't want your debit or credit card getting stolen.

So, you went and found a vending machine and got yourself a Starbucks bottled frappuccino, and grabbed Will a boring plain latte.

"Here you go," you said and handed the coffee and his credit card to him.

"I didn't ask you to get me anything."

"Well, one it's your money, and two, don't take this the wrong way, but you look like shit."

Will rolled his eyes. "Thanks. I'm so glad I'm spending money to put up with you for a couple of days."

"Nah, you love me...at least, I'm your favorite sibling out of me and Jay."

"That's debatable. But you getting me this definitely earned a couple of points in that category."

Your phone buzzed. "It's Jay," you said after reading the text. "He said to have a good flight." Why your other brother was up at 5 am on a Sunday baffled you, but you figured it had something to do with his need for a consistent schedule and structure from his army days.

"He text it to the group chat?" Will asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"I have my phone on silent and if he only texted you that, then I'd be offended."

"That would mean that I'm his favorite sibling then," you pointed out. "I'm both your favorite siblings."

"Oh, you're the favorite something alright," Will muttered under his breath. Then, he remembered something. He quickly unzipped a pocket in his backpack and handed you the packet of Dramamine. "You should probably take this now."

"And this is why you're the doctor because I probably would've forgotten."

Will just shook his head. "I know. And then you'd be miserable for the entire flight, which would make me miserable and it just wouldn't be a good time."

You just took the pill in response and handed the package back to him. "I get the window seat," you told him.

"I already planned on it," Will answered.

And fifteen minutes later, you were in line to board.

***

After waiting in line for an hour to get your rental car, you were finally out of the airport in Pheonix. Because of the time difference between Pheonix and Chicago, you got into Pheonix around 8 am, and it was currently a little past 9 am. And needless to say, you and Will were hungry.

"You sure you're good to drive?" you asked. "They said I could drive it, just that I can't be the main renter."

It shocked you that you could actually drive a rental car since you weren't 25 yet, which is the age that you could legally rent a car. But, turns out, you could be a driver, just not the one who was the primary renter.

"I was there, I know," Will said. "And, I'm good to drive. I've worked lots of 24-hour shifts running on little sleep, so I'll be fine."

"Okay. But if you need to switch drivers, let me know."

"I will. Now, what sounds good to eat?"

"I say IHOP."

"Pancakes and a pot of coffee it is then," Will agreed.

You put in the address for the nearest IHOP and made your way there.

And when you were at the restaurant, Will may or may not have taken a picture of you devouring your pancakes and sent it to the group chat that only contained him, Jay, and Hailey.

***

The next day, Monday

"I say we leave Jay home more often," you said when you woke up the next morning around 8.

Jay was always the one who was go, go, go while on vacation like he couldn't relax. He'd have had you running around Pheonix until midnight if he were here and he more than likely would've woke up at 6 to workout and then made a ton of noise rummaging around for his suitcase that he would've woken everyone else up in the hotel room, too.

"I would ask you if you slept well because you said that," Will began, "but I know you did because you were snoring. I should've smothered you with the pillow."

"I'm telling Jay if I come up dead in here that it was you," you said.

"And I'm telling him that you don't want him to come on vacation because he wakes you up early."

"He knows that! It's common knowledge!"

Will rolled his eyes. "Hurry up and get ready or do whatever you need to do so that we can go get some breakfast downstairs before all the good stuff's gone."

"Can we get coffee somewhere later? I looked up some coffee shops near here."

"Let's just get breakfast first and then we'll go from there."

***

The morning was spent looking at possible apartments, going to a bookshop that doubled as a coffeeshop (and buying a new book of course), and then going out for Mexican food for an early lunch (which had the best salsa you had ever tasted).

Then, you went back to the hotel and got ready to go to the pool.

"You can go down without me," Will said.

"You're not coming?" you asked.

"I gotta make a phone call. Work stuff," Will lied.

"Okay, see you down there," you said and grabbed a room key, and left to go to the pool.

Two minutes later, when Will was positive you were at least off the floor you were staying in, if not out to the pool by now, he pulled out his phone and dialed Jay's number.

"Everything okay?" Jay asked the minute he picked up.

"Yes, everything's okay."

"Well, if you're only calling me to brag about the chips and salsa you got, then it's in your best interest to hang up now." You had been sending pictures to the group chat between you, your brothers, and Hailey, and needless to say, Jay was jealous.

"Okay, fine," Will relented. "Everything's not okay. I don't know if I want Y/N staying here."

Now, Will had Jay's full attention. "Bad neighborhoods? What's it like? I can try and look into stuff for you, but I don't have jurisdiction there, so it might be hard to do."

"Dude, it's like Chicago, but it changes a bit faster here. You have wealthy people on one side of the street and then poverty on the other. The building her school is in is just down the street from a homeless encampment. And, she's a girl living by herself. I dunno about her living her, man."

"Well, all the schools she's applied to are in big cities, so she's gonna get that anywhere."

"I know, I know. It's just, the shit we see every day..."

"I get it," Jay agreed. "How did she react to the apartments? And the school?"

"Well, her face dropped when we saw the school. It was like in an industrial area and it's just a building. And, the apartments, the one she likes and the one she said would probably be safest would run her like $1800 a month just for the apartment, not including utilities, groceries, etc."

Jay whistled on the other end. "Shit. But, it's like that everywhere."

"I know. If she goes here, you're gonna need to fly out here and look at apartments with her because you might be able to figure some more stuff out."

"Yeah, if she gets in me and her will take some time to look at apartments out there. Maybe bring Hailey, too."

"Okay, good. And, I'm willing to pay a little bit of her rent if it means she'll be safe."

"Me too," Jay agreed. Then, he remembered something. "Hey, I think one of my old army buddies does construction for apartments out there. I'll see if he can give you some places to check out that he thinks are safer and text you if he tells me anything."

"That would be great, Jay. How's the training going?"

"Let's not talk about that when me and Hailey are on our lunch break, okay? It's a pain in the ass but I have to do it."

"Alright then. I'll let you wallow in your own pity while me and Y/N go chill at the pool. Bye, Jay."

"You're an ass," Jay laughed. "But have a good night. I'll text Y/N tomorrow before her interview and I'll talk to you guys tomorrow. I want to know how it goes." Will heard someone's voice on the other line, he assumed it was Hailey. "And Hailey wants to know how it goes, too." (Will was right.)

"I'll make sure to tell her. Have a good night you two."

Then, Will ended the call and changed, and headed down to the pool where you were soaking up the sun while reading a book on your iPad.

"Hey," Will said after he sat down next to you. "I talked to Jay. He's got an old army buddy that does apartment work around here. He's gonna talk to him and see if he can give us some apartments to look at."

"Okay, good," you said and then paused your reading timer. For the first ten minutes you were down here, you had began making a pros and cons list on your iPad. "Kansas City's looking pretty good after looking at rent prices and the cost of living over here."

"So, you're leaning towards Kansas City then?" Will asked. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't surprised. SAU had been your first choice since you had gotten the email saying that they wanted you to come for an interview.

You passed him your iPad. "You can look at my pros and cons list."

He took a minute to read it and then handed it back to you. "Kansas City has a study abroad program? You never told me that."

"Because I don't know if I'll be going or not. They have a campus in Spain and they saw that I minored in Spanish, so they said that if that's something I want to do, that it's an option. And, I had to miss my study abroad because of covid. It all depends on if I feel comfortable taking all my classes in Spanish though and how it will work out with my classes and my practicum schedule."

"That's great, Y/N! If you go to Kansas City, you should definitely look into it. And, I'm sure some of the students speak English and would be more than willing to help you if you needed it. The profs probably speak English too."

"I know. It's just, learning about the brain and psychology in my second language after not having learned much in undergrad even though I have my minor in it, is a little scary."

"Then you don't have to go. But, you have the option at least if you go to Kansas City. And, Kansas City doesn't have assistantships?" Will asked.

Assistantships are where a student does some kind of work for the university and, depending on how many hours you work, half or all of your tuition is paid for by the university and they'll give you a living stipend.

"No. But, SAU does. I just don't know if the assistantships are for the campus I'm going to or the main campus. It's more expensive here and if I don't get an assistantship, I don't know how I'm gonna be able to afford rent," you told him.

"What's the tuition cost for the programs?" Will asked.

"About the same," you answered.

"So, Kansas City: Spain, no assistantships, lower cost of living. And SAU: no Spain, possible assistantships, higher cost of living?" Will asked.

"Yeah," you answered. "Them having assistantships at that campus is gonna play a big part in if I go to school here or not."

"Let's just focus on the interview for now and make sure to ask them about that tomorrow. You got into one school for sure. Just focus on what you can control tomorrow and then decide. Okay?"

"Okay," you answered.

"I know it's hard to do right now, but just relax. Everything will work itself out eventually."

***

Tuesday, day of SAU interview

"You're gonna do great," Will reassured as you bobbed your leg up and down on the twenty-minute car ride from the hotel to SAU's south campus.

You went to open your coffee that Will bought you downstairs before you left (you weren't drinking nasty brewed coffee from the hotel and you cited the fact that you wouldn't have time to get coffee before the interview as the reason why you needed some now. Plus, you weren't going into arguably the most important interview of your entire life without caffeine in your system.) but you had to close your eyes and take a few deep breaths before you could actually open it because your hands were shaking.

"I don't know about that," you said after taking a sip of your coffee. "I could barely open my coffee."

"We practiced last night and you got all the answers right. You'll do just fine, Y/N. Did you and your social worker come up with strategies for this?"

"Mhm."

You and Marsha had talked about how to manage your nerves during your two interviews at your previous in-person session. Your plan was to remember that you had rehearsed these answers so much that you knew these answers. And to imagine yourself answering them at your desk at home with a candle and a cup of coffee in front of you like how you had actually practiced at home. Plus, the image was of a calming environment, so it might help slow your breathing and heart rate down. And, hey, you already got into one school, so why wouldn't you be able to get into this one?

"I just don't know what to expect in the group interview."

"Just be yourself while being professional. You'll be fine."

Your phone buzzed.

Jay.

You got this! You're gonna kill that interview!

Then another text came in.

Hailey.

Good luck, Y/N! You'll do great! Think positive thoughts (easier said than done, I know, haha). Love you!

You responded to each of them with a thank you and with Jay's, you added a smiley face emoji to the end, and to Hailey's, you added a heart to the end.

Fifteen minutes later, you pulled into the parking lot.

"Take a couple deep breaths," Will told you. You closed your eyes and did as he said. Then, you opened them and nodded. He squeezed your shoulder. "You practiced. Just remember that. Good luck."

And then, you stepped out of the car, grabbed your bag and your coffee, and walked into the place you hoped you'd be going to school at for the next five years.

***

Two hours later, 10:00 am

The group interview went fine. It felt just like a conversation more or less...which kind of made you nervous. Wasn't it supposed to feel like an interview? It was just sort of weird in your opinion. You basically just talked about how fucked the US mental health/foster care/social services system was and how each of you wanted to change that.

But now it was time for the part where you knew what to expect, and this part arguably had more riding it than the group interview: the individual interview.

You were interviewing with someone named Dr. Haldon.

She led you to her office and you sat down. She first asked you how you were doing and you said good, a little nervous, but good.

Then, she jumped right in.

"Your statement of purpose was a little confusing to tell you the truth," she said.

You furrowed your eyebrows. Your statement of purpose seemed pretty clear-cut and easily digestible to you. "It was?"

"Yes. You talked a lot about sports psychology, but why you want to go into neuropsychology and how you want to do more with the mental health side of things, but that you want more precision. So, explain that."

"Which part?" you asked. "The sports psych, neuropsych, mental health, or precision part?"

You swore she could hear your heart beating out of your chest.

"The precision part."

So, you went into it. You explained how you wanted to be a sports psychologist because you loved hockey and always wanted to do something with sports, but that you were also passionate about mental health. So, when you found sports psych, you thought it would be perfect for you.

But, then you took a class in sports psych and realized it was more behavior-based. Plus, it wasn't as precise as neuropsych where you'd be analyzing test results based on previous data and sometimes looking at brain scans.

You also explained how when you were little, you saw your brother becoming a doctor and, being the impressionable little girl you were, you wanted to be a doctor, too. But, then you realized you were scared of blood and weren't super good at hard sciences like chemistry.

So, when you found neuropsych after not wanting to go into sports psych, you knew this was what you wanted to do because it sort of married the two: you'd get to work in the psych field with more precision than sports psych and you'd get to work in a hospital and be on a treatment team without going to med school.

(This was all mentioned in your statement of purpose--minus the med school part--so you really didn't understand why she wanted you to repeat it all.)

"Define what you mean by precision," Dr. Haldon requested.

"Um, neuropsychologists get to look at brain scans and those are more precise than some psychological testing."

"Neuropsychologists don't look at brain scans," she told you.

"They don't? When I researched them, they did. I didn't get to take a neuropsych class though because the class was full when I decided I wanted to switch specialties."

"Well, they don't. That's the neurologist's job. And, sports psychologists get to work with mental health. Are you sure what you took was a sports psychology class?"

"Yes," you answered. It was a full-year class, not just one semester, so you knew the ins and outs of this class that you had taken your senior year of undergrad.

"Well, sports psychologists do still get to work with the mental health of the athlete."

"Oh. I was taught that they had to refer out since it would be a conflict of interest."

"No. I have my post-doc in sports psych, which is why I wanted to interview you."

There it is. That's why you weren't being interviewed by the faculty you said you wanted to work with in your statement of purpose. It was because she wanted to groom you into a sports psychologist...which made half as much as a neuropsychologist, but had the same of amount schooling required.

You just nodded.

"I think you close doors before you even open them all the way."

You just took a deep breath.

Then, she started asking you some questions, most of which you had not prepared for.

"Sorry," you started in response to one of the questions. "I'm thinking. I'm just nervous."

Without missing a beat, she asked, "So, how's your anxiety?"

You stared at her. "What?"

"Well, you've mentioned you were nervous several times."

Twice. You had mentioned your nerves twice. And, any sane person would be nervous during an interview!

You didn't know what to say, so you just blurted the truth out.

"I'm going to therapy," you answered.

"I see. So how is that going?"

You should have told her that your medical/mental health history was none of her damn business, but you wanted to go to this school, so you answered the question. At least, you thought you wanted to go to this school.

"It's going well. Helps a lot," you answered. Now you decided to take charge because, after the conversation you had with Will by the pool last night, you knew that your decision to go here would be riding on whether or not you could get an assistantship at this campus. "Do you have any assistantships available?"

"Oh, yes, I was going to ask you about that as well. We don't have assistantships available. I don't know where you found that information."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "But, on SAU's website, it said that there were assistantships available. Is that only for the main campus?"

"Yes, there are no assistantships for this campus, unfortunately."

"Oh."

There was a pause as if Dr. Haldon were waiting for you to comment further. When you didn't, she posed the question, "So, explain to me why you chose the PsyD route instead of the Ph.D. route."

"Well," you began. Did you tell her that you initially applied for PhDs and PsyDs were just the backup because you didn't get into any PhD programs?

Fuck it. She already knew you had anxiety, it couldn't really get that much worse.

"I applied to PhDs first because they're fully funded. But, since I didn't get into any of those, I applied for PsyDs. And, I like the clinical aspect more than the research aspect, so there's that," you answered.

"You were going to do research even though you don't like it? A Ph.D. is five years, that's a long time to do research if you don't like it. Why?"

"Because they're fully funded," you said quieter than you had answered all of her other questions but still loud enough that she could hear you.

"So you were going to do something you didn't like for that long because the program is fully funded?" You nodded. "I see."

You went through the rest of the questions she had been prepared to ask you and you asked her if she had any recommendations on where to live around here or where current students live, in case you got into the program.

But, during all of this, all you felt was defeat. Even if Dr. Haldon's behavior was making you want to go to Southern Arizona University even less, well you had just bombed your interview; even if you still wanted to go, there was no way they still wanted you.

***

"How'd it go?" Will asked with a smile when you got in the car.

You closed the door and scoffed and shook your head. "Shitty."

"What?" he quickly moved the car into a parking spot so that you two could talk. "Why?"

"I didn't even get to interview with the faculty I wanted to interview with! And the lady who interviewed me was bitch! She questioned my abilities and made it seem like I was supposed to know everything and- and- ugh!"

You blinked your eyes rapidly and fanned them so that you didn't cry and then have to wipe your face and smudge your mascara and foundation everywhere.

"Okay, calm down. Take a deep breath. What happened exactly?"

And so, you relayed the story of your individual interview with him.

"First off, she was wrong to question if you had anxiety or not. That was unprofessional. And secondly, if you knew everything, you wouldn't be here; you'd already be a neuropsychologist. She can't expect you to know everything. That's why you're going to school."

"Yeah, I guess," you agreed.

"And, at least you interviewed here. That way you saw this now instead of seeing it when you got in after deciding to come here. Remember, you're interviewing them as much as they're interviewing you."

You sniffled. "Thanks, Will. Sorry, I made you take time off work to just come down here and for me not to get into this school."

"Hey, no. It was a nice little vacation from the cold. And, you might still get in."

"Yeah, but I'm leaning towards Kansas City now even if I do get in."

"Okay. Wherever you want to go. It's your decision. I know you wanted somewhere warm, Y/N. But Kansas City might be the place for you."

"Yeah," you agreed quietly.

"I drove around and looked at some possible apartments for you, but now I think we should just go get some ice cream. What do you think?"

"I think that sounds like a great idea."

And then, instead of ice cream, you got the gooiest chocolate chip cookie of your life topped with caramel. It didn't fix everything, but it sure made it better.

And, when you called Jay in the car to explain to him everything that happened at your interview, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little relieved that you probably wouldn't be moving 25 hours away from him.

***

A month and a half later, early May

It was finally time for you to go to Kansas City to look at the school you would be attending and start apartment hunting. You had been apartment hunting as much as possible online, but it was really hard to know an area and know if you liked an apartment by looking online. So, you and Jay were driving down, and then Will was flying down after his shift later tonight so that he'd be with you to visit the school during the interview later morning tomorrow. (You figured he was the best bet to bring since he knew more of this stuff than Jay. And, you weren't gonna bring both brothers. You were in graduate school, not undergrad; bringing both of them would be overkill.)

You were a little over four hours into your drive and the sky had started to darken about half an hour ago. Since you were currently the passenger and Jay was driving (you planned on switching drivers when you got into Kansas City so that you could practice driving there with someone else in the car), he had you check the forecast to see when it was going to rain.

Your phone had told you in about two hours, and you hoped to be close to Kansas City by then.

And then, yours and Jay's phones went off at the same time, almost giving you a heart attack. You looked at the alert.

"There's a tornado warning near us," you told Jay.

"A watch or a warning?" he asked.

"Warning."

He cursed under his breath. "Hopefully we'll miss it. Keep an eye out for funnel clouds. How far away are we from where it was spotted?"

You went on your phone to start looking for more information, and not even two minutes later, it started hailing.

You grabbed your sweatshirt from the backseat so that in case the hail shattered your windshield, you'd have something to put over your face to protect your eyes.

The area beneath the overpasses quickly started to become full of cars and semis that were finding a place to hunker down for the time being. Jay reached down flip something and then cursed when he realized what he was looking for wasn't there.

"And, it's in your car. Great," he said.

"Why? You want a new truck if we were driving yours and the windshield breaks?" you asked as you continued to scroll through your phone for more information.

"No," he answered. "I could put on my lights and sirens and probably find us a police station to camp out at. And, I'd be able to listen to important stuff like where an accident is, from my scanner. And, my windshield and windows are bulletproof. The hail's small enough now that it shouldn't break your windshield, though."

You nodded. "And, that bulletproof glass isn't going to help much if we drive into a tornado."

"That is true," he agreed. "Can you text Will and Hailey and let them know what's going on?"

You did so and immediately got responses from both Will and Hailey.

Hailey: WHATTT???

Will: Go find somewhere to post-up.

You responded to the group, even though you were mainly responding to Will's question, by telling them that you were trying to find something to take cover underneath, but that the areas underneath the overpasses were all full, so you were gonna keep driving.

Then, Will and Hailey replied with some form of stay safe and Will told you to keep them updated. Hailey also said to tell Jay that she loved him.

"Hailey says she loves you," you told Jay.

Jay laughed. "This is arguably safer than us getting shot at every day. But tell her I love her, too. You can tell her the getting shot at thing, too, if you want."

"She'll probably send a middle finger emoji if I tell her that."

"Yeah, probably."

You texted and told Hailey that Jay said he loves her, too and Will responded asking if he's chopped liver. So, you told him that you and Jay loved him too, but that you should both be fine and that you'd stop driving once you found a place to hunker down at.

After driving for ten more minutes, the hail was coming down so hard that you and Jay could barely see, so he took the first exit he saw.

"Look for places with empty spots," he told you, referring to places with awnings over them so that you'd be covered.

You looked and there was a bank...full. A church with a small awning...full.

Then, Jay spotted a self-service car wash and did what was probably an illegal U-turn to turn into the parking lot.

There were three stalls and the last one on the right was empty. You both thanked your lucky stars and pulled inside.

Jay breathed a sigh of relief as he put the car in park. "Tell Will we're safe."

Then a thought came to mind. "You think Will's gonna be able to fly out tonight?"

Jay looked at the clock. It was almost 3 pm and Will's flight didn't leave until 11 pm. "His flight doesn't leave for another eight hours, so hopefully. If not, I'll just go tour the school with you."

"Okay."

"It's always an adventure with you, isn't it?"

You laughed and shook your head. "And we're not even to Kansas City yet."

After hunkering down for a bit, the hail had let up and you got back on the highway and continued driving. As it turns out, you had been driving the way the tornado was heading. Hail started up once more, but only kept up for five minutes. And, twenty minutes later, there were blue skies on the horizon.

You took a picture and texted it to Will and Hailey telling them you were safe and driving again and told Will to let you know if his flight got delayed or canceled.

***

The next day, Monday

The rest of the night went fine and Will's flight left as scheduled and you and Jay picked him up from the airport and then went for some late-night ice cream. The three of you got breakfast at the hotel and you bought a bottled latte from the market area—Jay and Will thought bitter and acidic hotel coffee tasted fine; you did not.-- Then, the three of you went back upstairs to your room and you and Will proceeded to get ready for the day while Jay got back into bed and proceeded to drink his coffee, call Hailey (who was on her into work), and watch highlights of last night's NHL playoff games.

You and Will went to Kansas City Health College and University and right off the bat, you already got better vibes than those at SAU. Everyone was friendlier, maybe that was just a Midwest thing, but either way, you'd take it.

You toured the school (well, it was more like a building) and you liked it better than SAU as well. They were all about their students here and it was obvious they cared about them and their success. There was a student area complete with a fridge where you could store your lunches for the day and a microwave to use, as well as some comfy chairs and a couch for students to study on and relax. There was a little bar area where students could eat or study. And, there were even two gaming consoles in front of a flat-screen tv, a foosball table, and a ping-pong table for students to use so that they can chill out and hang out with friends. The lady who was giving you a tour even said that last week, they even had a staff vs students ping-pong tournament.

Then, you went and looked at some of the classrooms along with the lab, which you would be using for your neuroanatomy lab and she went over some of the other things the school offered, such as counseling services.

Then, she gave you time to ask any questions you might have for her, you met with the program director and asked her program specific-questions, such as scheduling and the like, and then you met with the dean of students who just wanted to introduce herself and let her know that you could come to her with any concerns you might have.

The entire tour and meetings/question and answer sessions only lasted about two hours, but one thing was for sure: you had found the school for you.

(And, once you were completely finished, Will took a picture of you outside the school that you planned to post on your Instagram tonight.)

***

"How'd it go?" Jay asked when you and Will walked back into the hotel room. This time, Jay's hair was wet and you assumed he had gone to the gym and then taken a shower while you had been gone because you'd now been gone from the hotel for a total of three hours, and despite relaxing when you had left, you knew Jay couldn't sit still for three hours watching random sports highlights or shitty, unrealistic reality tv.

"She loves it," Will said before you could even answer the question.

"Really? Better than SAU, then?"

"Way better. They really care about their students." You then recapped everything you learned, including the student lounge area, how small the cohorts were, etc.

"I'm glad you like it. Ready to go look at apartments?"

That was what was next on your agenda, apartment hunting. You had used up the rest of your sick to take some time off in June to come back if you still needed to find an apartment, but you really didn't want to come back and look again if you didn't have to. You'd prefer to use that time to do things you needed to get done before moving such as going to the eye doctor to see if you needed new glasses and going to the dentist. And, not needing to use that time to come back down here to look at apartments meant that you could use those days for job interviews as well. That was another thing you needed to do after apartment hunting: job hunting.

"Just let me change first. I am not wearing dress pants to look at apartments. And, I'm putting my hair up," you told Jay.

After quickly changing into something more comfortable and putting your hair up, Will changed his clothes as well and the three of you went out to the car to start apartment hunting.

***

You had been looking at apartments online in a historic district called Regent's Circle. It looked very pretty in the photos, but they couldn't really do it justice. Once you parked and walked around, you knew this was where you wanted to live.

Since it was a historic district, it had old townhouses and cobblestone sidewalks, as well as a little coffee shop that Jay said you could go to after you looked at some apartments, a park right in the center of the area, and even a community garden.

It made you think of all the vintage cities you saw in photos and, since your grad school didn't have that old-timely Harvard/Yale feel, at least the place you were living would...if you could find an apartment here, that is.

You had three apartments you wanted to check out that you had found online, but if you found ones while walking around, you'd look at those as well.

The first one you looked at was nice, but it was really dimly lit and dark inside, which you didn't really like. You'd live there if that was the only thing available, but you didn't want to. (At least it was a loft and had exposed brick like you wanted. But, you had filtered for lofts. You wanted something like Kelly and Stella's apartment, but on a smaller scale...and something that you could afford.)

The second one you looked at, you absolutely fell in love with.

It was more expensive than the previous one, but it had a pool. And, something Jay liked was that the parking lot was gated and you needed a code to get in and you'd be on the second floor.

It was a one-bedroom and was a loft style, of course, so it was very open. There was a long marble island, so you wouldn't even need to buy a table, just a set of barstools. The main wall in the living/kitchen that faced the back of the building—as well as the dog park, so you could see cute puppies while watching tv—, was all exposed brick with some windows on it. There were also beams exposed in the ceiling.

The bathroom sink was separate from the shower/tub and the toilet, meaning someone could do their makeup while someone else was going to the bathroom if needed. But, this wasn't your favorite part about the bathroom. No, your favorite part was that it was a wide, circular bathtub/shower, a soaking tub if you will, which would come in handy for taking warm, relaxing baths after long days of classes, studying, and practicums.

And, something that Jay pointed out, the floor was concrete, so you didn't have to worry about spilling something on the carpet and staining it and getting charged for it. (You assumed Jay was speaking from experience during his bachelor pad days, but when you asked him, he said he was pleading the fifth.)

The apartment definitely gave you Stella and Kelly vibes and it was in a safe area.

Then, you finished the tour by looking at the fitness center and then gave the manager who had helped you your email address and phone number and he gave you a few pieces of paper with information as well as his business card.

"That's the one I want," you told Jay and Will when you were sitting outside at the little coffee shop a quarter mile away from the apartment you had just toured drinking a latte and eating a danish.

"It's a bit pricey," Jay pointed out.

"They're all like that if she wants it in a safe area," Will said.

"Would you rather have me be safe and live in a bit more expensive apartment? Or not be safe and live in a cheap apartment? Plus, there's an in-unit washer and dryer, which you know is a deal-breaker for me."

All the way back when you were in Arizona, you had told Will that having an in-unit washer and dryer was one of your non-negotiables for your apartment. You knew that being a busy grad student, you wouldn't have all day to spend at a laundromat or in a community laundry area in your apartment, so you needed an in-unit washer and dryer.

"She's got a point, Jay," Will agreed. "And, she's got some savings to pull from if she can't find a job right away."

"And it's five minutes away from school and I don't need to drive on the highway. I'm saving money in gas and time without all the traffic."

"And here I thought Will was the boujee sibling," Jay said, causing Will to roll his eyes.

You smiled. "I'll take that as your seal of approval."

And three days later, when you were back at work and had downtime during your shift, you applied for the apartment.

***

Two and a half months later, mid-July

Everything was in place. You secured the apartment you wanted in Regent's Circle in Kansas City, you had gotten an online tutoring job that was flexible where you could work from home, so you could work around your school and practicum schedules, and you were mostly packed up. (And you had gotten into SAU even after bombing the interview, but decided not to go because they—especially Dr. Haldon—absolutely did not pass the vibe check...and they got back to you two months later instead of two weeks like they had originally told you.) Your favorite coworkers had even thrown you a little surprise goodbye party complete with mini cupcakes and a few gifts, which included a card, two energy drinks, and a Starbucks gift card.

And now, you were leaving in two days, which was why you were very confused when Jay had made you stop doing laundry and packing up last-minute things and told you to get ready because you were going somewhere.

"Hailey, help me out here," you began, "where are we going?"

"Can't tell you that," she told you.

"Okay...how do I need to dress then?"

"Casual," she answered. "With a little bit of makeup."

You nodded. "Still didn't give me any hints. Rude."

And then you walked into your room to change and do your makeup with Jay and Hailey laughing in the background.

***

"Molly's? Really?" You asked when Jay parked on the street where Molly's Pub was located. "You couldn't have just told me that?"

"I'm just picking something up from Kelly," Jay answered. "And, I thought you might want to see Stella one more time before you leave and she's bartending tonight."

The three of you got out of Jay's truck—Hailey citing the fact that who knows how long Jay and Kelly would talk as her reasoning for not staying in the truck—and then walked into Molly's.

"Surprise!" was what you heard when you walked in.

You looked around with wide eyes to see a banner that said Farewell Y/N! and everyone from Intelligence, 51, and everyone you knew at Med. Even Voight was here and from snippets of conversation you had heard here and there, he was one step above being legally barred from entering Molly's.

You put your hand over your mouth as tears came to your eyes. "You guys."

"You didn't think we'd send you off without a party, did you?" Kelly asked.

"I wasn't expecting one, no."

Then Stella walked up to you. "Well, you got one. And all your drinks are on the house tonight." She handed you a drink. "Starting with this cherry vodka sour."

Stella knew that was your favorite.

A few minutes later, after everything had died down a bit, Voight came up to you while you were talking to Stella and Kelly at the bar.

"Congrats, kid," he said.

"Thank you," you replied.

"You've always been sort of like a daughter to me and to everyone in Intelligence for that matter, so I'm gonna keep it short." He handed you an envelope. A fat envelope at that. "For rent. And, there's the numbers of a sergeant and a couple of officers I know down there in case you run into any trouble."

"I can't accept this. It's too much." You hadn't even opened it, but by the thickness of the envelope, you knew it contained a lot of money.

"You can and you will. Justin never really used his college fund, and I wanted it to go to something worthwhile."

(This was in fact, a lie. This was money from Voight being Voight, but you didn't need to know that. And more importantly, Jay didn't need to know that...even though, after you counted out the bills, Jay would have his suspicions.)

You nodded. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Stay out of trouble."

And then, he gave you a hug and left the bar because even though he was legally allowed to enter, he knew he still would never be accepted there. And, the less time he spent there, the better.

***

After talking and laughing with everyone for about an hour, Hermann yelled to be heard over the noise.

"Okay, everyone! Listen up!" The room quieted. "It's time to give Y/N her presents."

Then, Ritter came out one of the employees-only doors, pushing a food service cart containing multiple gift bags and boxes wrapped in colorful wrapping paper.

You were just about to say something when the door opened and you whirled your head around.

You jumped off your barstool and ran up to him.

"Casey!"

He pulled you into a hug. "You didn't think I'd miss my favorite kid's going away party, did you?"

"I thought you were in Oregon!"

"Just in time," Will said.

Then, you looked between your two brothers and at all of the firefighters in the bar. They didn't look surprised to see Casey at all.

"You knew about this?"

Jay laughed. "Who do you think told him?"

"Enough with the logistics," Casey yelled. "Get this kid a drink! On me!"

"Her drinks are already free tonight!" Kelly yelled. "Which you would've known if you got here on time."

"Nice to see you, too, Severide," Casey shot back.

There were a couple of chuckles heard throughout the bar and then Hermann spoke up again.

"Open the gifts so we can get this cart out of here, will you?"

You laughed and shook your head and then opened your gifts, thanking every single person as you went.

51 got you a fire extinguisher and a Slamigan, which Kelly explained was less about opening doors and more for whacking someone over the head if they tried to break into your apartment. All the doctors and nurses got together and made you the best first aid kit you had ever seen, complete with more stuff than even Jay had in the first aid kit at home and you thought his was the best at-home first aid kit around. And, Intelligence got you a master lock for your door just for some added security. Also, Kevin and Adam got you a Taser. (They had to specify that it was just from them because Jay vetoed it for the joint gift, so they got it for you themselves.) And, Gallo, Ritter, and Violet gave you a case of their lightest IPA and a 12-pack of grapefruit seltzer so that you Jay, Hailey, and Will would have something to drink while working on moving you into your apartment.

Then, they did something that was even more unexpected than giving you all these gifts: they started chanting speech.

"Here, take this," Stella handed you a shot of what you assumed was vodka. "Liquid courage."

You took it and then took a deep breath.

"I wasn't really prepared to give a speech—I wasn't prepared for any of this since it was a surprise—so it might not be the greatest," you began. You looked around the room at everyone who had come out to celebrate you tonight, of all people. "Thank you all for coming, it really means a lot. Stella, thank you for making my hair beautiful for all my dances senior year. Sylvie, thank you for helping me with my biology homework when Will was busy at work so he couldn't help me. Thank you to all of 51 for making me laugh when I had to spend days there when I was younger when Will and Jay were busy and couldn't stay with me. Kelly and Matt, thank you for teaching me how to use a fire extinguisher and how to change the batteries in a smoke detector.

"Everyone at Med, thank you for putting up with me when I went to Med to find Will even if I was pulling you away from your jobs. I'm also sorry about that." That got a couple of laughs from some people. "Hannah, thank you for all your help earlier this year. I would've been even more of a mess if it weren't for your help.

"Trudy, thank you for putting up with me when I'd run into the district looking for Jay and for always giving me money to go get a snack and a pop from the vending machines. Kim, thank you for helping me with my Spanish. Kevin, thank you for taking me for my very first ride in a cop car when you were on patrol and Kim was pulled up to Intelligence for the day. Sorry, Trudy." She glared at Kevin, but then laughed, so you knew it wasn't that serious. "Adam, thank you for teaching me how to pick locks because Jay told me that he'd never teach me that."

Now, you turned to face Hailey and your brothers and the tears started to fall.

"Hailey, thank you for coming into my brother's life and for loving him and during that time, for loving me as well. Thank you for becoming the closest thing to a mom that I've ever had."

Hailey put her hand over her mouth and blinked rapidly to hold back her tears, but then just gave up and let a few of them slide down her cheeks.

"And to Will and Jay, God I can't even put into words how much you two mean to me. You became like father figures to me. Your both have put your careers on the line whether that be to pick me up from school on time, or to leave a shift to come to one of my academic awards ceremonies. Thank you. And thank you for putting up with me for these past six months and for being there and helping me through this process. I couldn't have done it without you both."

By the end of your speech, there wasn't a dry eye in the house.

And, despite saying that you didn't really think you'd miss Chicago and would relish living on your own, by the end of the night, you knew that in two days, you'd feel pangs of homesickness when you drove away from all these people who had become like a family to you over the years.

***

4 days later

You looked around your apartment at all the hard work you, Jay, Will, and Hailey had put in during these past two days. The four of you had hauled ass the past two days to get you completely moved in by Sunday night so that Will, Jay, and Hailey could leave and be home at a decent time in the morning so that Will could make it to his 3 pm-3 am shift on time.

"We should probably get going," Will stated. He had said that an hour ago, but there had been a silent agreement between the four of you to prolong your brothers' and sister-in-law's stay as long as possible. Even though you said you were more excited than nervous, it didn't mean that you wouldn't miss them.

You were not going to cry because you knew if you started crying, you'd want to jump in Jay's truck and go home with them, and you knew you couldn't do that.

"One last picture," Hailey said and pulled out her phone, and handed it to Will, who was the tallest of the four of you.

You all crowded together while Will held Hailey's phone and took a selfie.

Now, it was time for goodbye.

Hailey was up first.

"I'm gonna miss you," she told you.

Tears sprang to your eyes. "I'm gonna miss you, too. Make sure Jay doesn't get shot, okay?"

"I'll do my best. You know he's a bullet magnet."

"Unfortunately."

Then, you gave her a big hug. She knew how much she meant to you and vice versa, so there wasn't a need for a long, drawn-out goodbye between you two.

Next up, was Will.

He pulled you into a hug and told you he'd love and miss you and then pulled away and put his hands on your shoulders.

"You call me if you need anything, okay? And I mean anything."

All you could do was nod because you knew if you said anything, you'd just start crying.

Last but certainly not least, was Jay.

He gave you a bone-crushing hug, during which you tried not to sob.

But, when he pulled away and you saw him trying his best to hold back tears, that's when the waterworks started.

"I'm gonna miss you, so much!"

Jay hugged you again. "And I'm gonna miss you, too. But I am so, so proud of you."

You nodded and wiped your tears. "I love you, Jay Jay."

"Love you, too, kiddo."

Jay took a deep breath to steady himself. "We need to go, but if you need anything at all, I'm only eight hours away, about five or six with lights and sirens."

"I know. Voight might kick your ass for using them all the way to Kansas City, though."

"That would probably be Platt, which is arguably scarier."

Then, you walked the three of them to your door and watched them leave.

Hailey sent you the picture and you posted some highlights of these two days including another picture in front of your school of the four of you that you had a passerby take and some funny videos you took while moving in, one of which was Jay and Will arguing over how to build a couch because Jay refused to read the directions.

Then, you posted all of these on your Instagram with the caption Onto the next adventure.

Jay and Hailey both reposted the post on their Instagram stories with Jay captioning it Not a dad, but I think this is what being a proud dad feels like with a heart emoji at the end, and Will posted the picture of the four of you in front of your school on his account with the caption Soon, there will be two Dr. Halsteads.

And, little did you know, Jay, Will, and Hailey did not have to be back tomorrow because Will had to work. That was a lie. They were getting a hotel room to make sure everything went okay on your first night alone in your apartment.

Because even though you were living on your own and would be a state away, they would do anything to help you succeed, whether that be helping you with applications, going with you to an ultrasound, or telling you a white lie so that they could make sure you were okay.

You wouldn't trade them for the world.

And, Jay had been right: you got this.

A/N: If you made it this far, congratulations! You finished my longest imagine ever! If you liked it, don't forget to reblog/like and comment because I love hearing what you guys think! As always, if you want to be added to my taglist, just tell me and I’ll add you!

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @911ls-tarlos @iamasimpingh0e @i-like-sparkly-things @herecomesthewriterwitch @liampayne88 @glitterquadricorn @luvreading67 @smoothdogsgirl @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff@actlikesummerr @lcothr523 @star-wars-lover

133 notes · View notes

shatterthefragments · 4 months

Note

8, 14, 22 and 25 for those music asks from hours ago haha

No worries at all for it being from hours ago!!! They’re still fun to get!! 😁

8. Is from an artist I’ve listened to for a while

FIRST THOUGHT IN HEAD IS MARIANAS TRENCH’s Skin and Bones

Like. I remember getting their first CD and playing it and just Fix Me indeed 😌 (disclaimer that I did not get it as it first came out. I don’t know for sure but I feel like I saw their music video probably for shake tramp or celebrity status or cross my heart on MTV and idk convinced mum we should get their cds (they’re canadian after all!) and so we did? I think mum liked ever after? I don’t really remember very well anymore. It’s definitely a bit of a nostalgic band for me and I adore them (even if my honest opinion is that he’d probably sound a bit better live if he stopped jumping up and down all over the stage so much. Still an amazing experience though)) i am now taking this and running with it (i am listening to Marianas trench rn)

Alternatively I mean. Nickelback has been around for longer than I’ve been alive. And by virtue of Canadian radio having to play a certain percentage of canadian artists on radio I’ve been listening to them as long as we’ve driven places. My immediate thought is Just To Get High or the entire The Long Road album but of my liked more recent songs I would choose Sister Sin.

14. I’d make everyone listen to

Ok ok so. Once upon a time [2021 I think] I was driving to [camping spot] and played Polyphia the ENTIRE DRIVE (it was only like 2-3 hours but the longest drive I’ve ever done at the time so I NEEDED the Polyphia to do this (my longest is now 4-5 hours? And I’m still amazed I am fucking amazing for being able to do this I didn’t think I’d ever be able to drive and here I fucking am?!?!)) and uh. Apparently my cousins can’t tell the difference between songs despite me actually playing through their discography instead of looping one song over and over like I usually do. So. Technically,, I already have made everyone in my vicinity listen to:

The Worst Polyphia 😘

Except. Except. It’s actually Abelha Emily Hopkins 😘 like??? On a HARP?!? If I had time and money she makes me want to learn the harp and collect a ridiculous amount of effects pedals 😍💖🥰

22. reminds me of a character

Gosh …I really want to say the entire Sleep Token discography and the characters they play on stage haha ✌️✨

I also can’t help but think of Afraid by The Neighbourhood bc it was on a Sam Winchester 8tracks and launched me into loving them after hating how overplayed Sweater Weather was (I love it now btw) (I saw them live maybe 2019 and it was great but I was much more paranoid about getting a secondhand high/weed induced psychosis off the weed there than I am now)

Also Citizen Soldier’s Scarecrow and the characters we all play in our day to day lives.

…and also the Marianas Trench Masterpiece Theatres where “this is just a part I portray” and other lyrics are just EXACTLY IT.

25. I want to hear in a grocery store

As somebody that works in a grocery store: literally anything that’s not on the fucking playlist they use haha

…actually Love Shack is on the playlist and it may stay bc it is JOYFUL and a reminder of my first and so far only pride parade where I was with all my friends in the shade on the float. So may the Abba songs. And a couple others that I’ve been surprised to hear. But generally I don’t notice the songs very much unless I hate them or the oven is off and I can actually hear.

But I’d love to hear literally any Sleep Token song. Most of them even have no swears or explicit sex references which makes it better than some of the stuff our clientele/coworkers are scandalized by!!!

Or like. Any instrumental math/jazz rock would be AMAZING. also thinking of Polyphia and Ichika Nito here, but I am NOT picky about it give me the good good sounds 🤩💖

Because I start before we open for an hour or two I just play my own music from my phone out loud from my pocket (not allowed to wear earbuds which is kinda fair since I’m fresh food) recently it’s just been looping Nazareth. But I’ve also played sleep token and bad omens albums as well. As well as looping just whichever song I’m vibing with. Notably Abelha and I’ll See You When The Night Comes.

I frequently sing parts of Jaws or Euclid to myself when I’m alone. 🥰

#music #ask games #ask game #thank you!!! these are so much fun to ramble on about!!!#shatters’ fragments #long post #drug mention

3 notes · View notes

onlyswan · 2 months

Note

OH ART YOU HAVE COMPLETELY DESTROYED ME WITH THIS ONE 🤕🤕🤕🤕💔💔 but thank you for not giving a happy ending even tho i wish it was it’s okay bc most of the time i find myself wanting a sad ending like 2521 🥲 or queen of tears i would’ve preferred a sad ending

i did want to suggest a song too! i thought of “i do” by renee rapp during the part where oc was sleeping on his shoulder :( when he didn’t want to move even though he had to use the bathroom bc he feared that’d be the only time he’d ever be that close to her 🥲

ALSO ty for releasing it when you did! luckily for me i had a 1.5 flight to portland so i read it while waiting to board and during the flight and just finished before heading to bed. your writing is truly one of my favs and this couple is now yet another one of my many favs. if this is the complete and finalized version, then i will imagine that they will meet again and that they’ll be old and married with their fish pond 🥹🥹🥹

lastly, i was yelling at him for not trying to convince yn to stay but also i understand. he only wants what’s best for her and if going to milan is what will be best then so be it. although i know he is hurting so bad he will definitely endure it but he’ll never get over yn or find someone else. he was wrapped around her finger, even when she lashed out at him and told him she used him, he still protected her when she was vulnerable or being (verbally) attacked.

i think this is the longest message i’ve ever sent you and idk if it makes any sense but i’m literally in shambles right now 😭 i’m going to miss this duo and hoping they’re both happy somewhere whether it’s with each other or not 💔

i also destroyed myself writing it so i had to drag you all down with me 😔🤞🏼 omghdjdhfjhf 2521 gave me ptsd i was delusional to the very last second waiting for a plot twist LOL i agree with qot though 🤧

listened and added this to the playlist as soon as you sent this ask and let me tell you… i’m not okay until now… feels like my heart is being ripped out of my chest damn 😭😭😭 idk what to tell you maybe bc of where i’m at in my life rn this couple made a very big impact on me somehow 🥺

omg that’s so cute happy dreamboat!jk and oc were able to accompany you 🥹🩷

no bc ofc he wanted to but ultimately he knew how miserable she was there and it kills me bc he felt like he wasn’t reason enough for her to stay!!!!!! </3 he loved her so much… goodbye world

i love reading long messages in my inbox 🥺🥺🥺 thank you for sharing your thoughts and making me smile :") even though i prolly made you cry. hehe. love you and i hope you’re having a great daaaay <3

#spoiler alert #art’s post office ☁️#inosukei <3 #feedback: dreamboat <3

1 note · View note

blackbearcollective · 2 years

Text

Sweet Jams: 600mg

I think this is the longest playlist I’ve ever made. Or maybe I made one really long one like a decade ago that I forgot about. I’ve dreamt about playlists this long, but it’s only been in dreams until today! It was even longer for a second, but I gave it a trim. Pretty fun mix of total bummers and hyperpop. I think it works.

1. Swish Swish - Swet Shop Boys

2. Ante Meridiem - Men I Trust

3. Chalk Tablet Towers - Gorillaz (feat. St. Vincent)

4. Rock and Roll - Gap Dream

5. Bahia - Prince Rama

6. L.A. - Crumb

7. No More Shubz - Klein

8. Show Me the Sun - Belle & Sebastian

9. Night Walk - Dirty Beaches

10. Upset My Girlfriend - Metronomy

11. Pronoia - Carly Pearl

12. Black Flowers - Yo La Tengo

13. Sweet Dew Lee - Belle & Sebastian

14. Four Years and One Day - Mount Kimbie

15. Swish Swash - Crack Cloud

16. Invierno (Remix) - Vesica Piscis, Techno Para Dos, Alondra Maynez

17. Fighting Is Futile - Matthew Dear

18. Don’t Go - Yes

19. XTQ Idol - Trevor Powers

20. Seven of Cups - Wombo

21. Human Condition - Pretty Sick

22. Tonight’s Episode - Yo La Tengo

23. Green Apple - Guerilla Toss

24. Officer Telephone - Youth Lagoon

25. Take Me - Sisyphus

26. O Green World - Gorillaz

27. Turning off the Rain - Magdalena Bay

28. Honesty - Yves Tumor

29. Lifetime - Yves Tumor

30. Anything New - Bibio

31. Home - Phish

32. Been To The Mountain - Margo Price

#hard rock #delightful #music #playlist #mixtape #fan favorites #indie #alternative #fuzz #spooky scary #pretty long #one confusing remix #like is that just the band or was it remixed by a few people?

0 notes

poifect · 2 years

Text

frustrated 12/4/22

let’s go backwards

I just got home from going bowling with my family and their friends...

I saw my best friend’s story of her and other girl friends going out in their cute ass fits and make up and the only thing I wanted more than anything was to look as good and hangout with the hot girl group :’( But I couldn’t because I was with my family and we were going home and that was that. I don’t have the option to do things at my own choosing. It has to have had consultation from everyone I’ve ever met in my life and their grandmothers blessings.

I thought about if I had no rules and no one’s opinion to consider, the only thing I wanted to do was to go out with my bestie and her friends and be a hot girl and have jun flaunting being a hot girl.

Yet, here I was in the back of the family SUV almost at our one way road and I knew I had no choice. I had no control. If it wasn’t my mom, it would be my boyfriend. Which is the perfect segue to transport us to a conversation a few hours ago...

“Okay I have to tell you something and uhhh **** called me at 6 in the morning today because she was in the hospital from being drugged at Ricks last night. Of course I wasn’t awake at that time to answer the call, but she texted me and said she was hospitalized. I hope you’re not mad.”

Here’s a question for you reader: Would you have thought that entire situation would have made me mad? Do you think I would be mad about that? Why the fuck would I be mad about that? Unless you fucking roofied the girl yourself.?

I said that exact sentence to him and he said why am I acting like this? My voice and tone are being mean. “Bulgan, why are you being like this?

Excuse me, what do you mean, sir?

So I try to pull myself together and just mutter things like okay and sure. After quite a few roundabouts in the conversation world, we seem to be making headway for wrapping this conversation, and I say “ I am glad she’s home and I’m glad she’s okay”. “Are you sure?”

Another question for the reader, would you have answered that as “Yeah, me too” rather than “Are you sure”. SO you’re probably thinking holy shit she wouldn’t want this girl to be okay? Jesus something really bad must’ve happened and this girl wants revenge.

(Un) Fortunately nothing of that sort has happened. Although maybe it has. It is pretty unclear.

But because I’m writing this, I’ll tell you my side. This girl who’s 7 years younger than my partner has been in love with him and has wanted to use every single use to contact him and to have him by her side. He has. Because they’re good friends. But I think her motive is much more than just friends. But my partner apparently just doesn’t see it. In his eyes, it’s just this nice friend needing his help for the most ridiculous things like borrowing a pencil for her exam that she’s running late to or having him create a playlist blend together because he simply did not enough about metal rock!!! “WHAT? YOU’RE 27 AND DON’T KNOW ABOUT ROCKKK???? NO WAY I AM SO YOUNG AND I LOVE ROCK. IT MAKES ME SUPER FUCKING UNIQUE AND I AM JUST SO DIFFERENT FROM EVERYONE ELSE! WE SHOULD WATCH BREAKING FUCKING BAD CAUSE IT’S THE LONGEST SHOW ON EARTH WHICH MEANS I CAN SPEND AS MUCH TIME WITH YOU AS FUCKING POSSIBLE.”

“uh ok yeah sure dude whatever I’m high”

That is a snippet of how I imagine their interaction goes. But also I have no fucking idea and perhaps my partner lets go on things more than he says he does.

Final question, but in 2 parts.

1. Would you be reaching out to a guy friend you haven’t really talked to in a few months who has a gf, at 6am, saying you’re at the hospital?

1.a. If so, why would you? unless...?

1.a.b.If you’re the author’s partner, what do you make of this? Would you not be suspect that this girl really needs and likes you? Wouldn’t you want to make it clear that is not the case since you’ve clearly found your soulmate that she shouldn’t really think of him as her emergency contact???

1.a.b.c LOL idk how the sub labels work but idgaf. Wouldn’t you be updating your partner as these messages and calls are arriving? Not continuing talking to this female (lol I purposely chose female smd) and then telling your partner 8 hours later and somehow still making it her fault?

2. I don’t remember.

I am sad and I feel trapped without any choice in my life.

Goodnight, strangers.

My bf is asleep and not talking to me in the evening hours because somehow he just accidentally goes to bed without knowing how tired he is.

Fuck this shit.

I am drunk and high writing out my feelings. yay.

go 25 me :P

suck my fucking asshole and suck my fucking clitoris.

#smh

1 note · View note

paper-pixies · 2 years

Note

Pestering you with ask game questions teehee!

8 for Mata-Shali, 32 for Ahad, 22 for Remy, and maybe a 23 for Opal if we’re feeling a little silly

Thank you for the ask game questions teehee! Deepest apologies that they took so long to be answered

8. A song that fits them, and do you think they would enjoy it? [Mata-shali]

Okay so I’ll admit that not once but twice did I read this question, listen to the entirety of my Mata-shali playlist, and then get distracted and forget to actually come back and answer it. It’s hard to pick just one since her playlist is one of the longest character playlists I’ve made (lots of brainrot for this girlie), but I think two that fit her experiences the best are Dig the Crazy - Faith Marie and In The Next Life - Kim Petras. As for whether or not Mata-shali would like them… she probably wouldn’t care much either way. She tends towards either very discordant “music” or folk dance music, and I doubt she’d really pay attention to either song enough to draw any sort of connection between herself and them.

32. Pet peeves? What's the one (or more) thing(s) that someone could do to instantly piss them off? [Ahad]

The real question is what doesn’t piss off Ahad honestly. He’s the grumpiest person you’ll ever meet in your life, so just about anything will get a glare or an annoyed sigh from him, but there are definitely some things that will instantly get under his skin. Any attempt to lecture him about his drinking or cut him off for the night will instantly have him pissed at you. Alcohol is the only semi-comfort this man has left and you better pray some other god helps you if you try and take it away from him. Another huge pet peeve is just. Any sort of PDA. Maybe a bit ironic given his history as a deity of love, but in recent years he’s come to absolutely despise seeing happy couples flaunting their relationships. He is… still extremely bitter after his own failed relationship.

22. Any embarrassing tattoo/scar stories? [Remy]

Every scar story is an embarrassing scar story for Remy! Or, they would be if he ever got embarrassed about them. They’re certainly always from some stupid stunt he pulled or fight he accidentally got into, but easily his dumbest scar is his missing finger on his right hand. I mean, in fairness to him the mafia that he was a part of is known for being extremely unforgiving of mistakes. And it’s really not his fault that the caravan of goods he was supposed to help protect was outnumbered and stopped by city guards on the way to one of the mafia safehouses. And sure, maybe Remy was supposed to pretend to be the only one who knew about the drugs and take the fall for it but he forgot and instead almost ratted out the leader of the caravan, so after they finally managed to escape the guards he ended up losing a finger as punishment. But easily the worst part is that it’s only after they had chopped off his finger that he realized they were a literal mafia group and he was a part of it.

23. The story they'd only tell when drunk off their ass? [Opal]

Opal would rather pick fights than swap stories while extremely drunk, but he’s definitely got some good ones if you can get him to focus enough to tell them!

Definitely one of the sillier (and more embarrassing) ones would be the time Opal [extremely drunk at the time] got extremely jealous and challenged Ace [also extremely drunk] to a fight for Jabari’s affection. Except Ace is too drunk to get through a proper incantation to cast anything more than a cantrip and Opal doesn’t have his arcane focus on him, so the two spend several minutes unsuccessfully “fighting” (aka insulting each other and making an occasional grab) before Ace finally manages to get one of his fire-based spells off at the exact same time that Opal decides the only valid weapon nearby is a rather large bottle of alcohol. Long story short, Ace lights the bottle as it’s being thrown at them, which sprays flaming alcohol all over the place and nearly burns the entire tavern down. Jabari ends up dragging them both out after apologizing profusely to the owner for the idiocy of her two companions, both of whom have already been dating her for several months and had absolutely no need to compete in the first place.

#these were so silly and fun i appreciate them #i hope you find the story ones as silly as i do #ask game answered!#opal #remy #mata-shali #ahad

1 note · View note

frostedfaves · 4 years

Text

Dark Paradise

Masterlist

Pairing: dark!WandaNat x fem!reader

Summary: You meet the infamous Avengers on spring break with your best friend Peter, and two of them seem to adore you more than expected. Requested here by my lovely 🐞anon.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY!!! dark themes, manipulation, mind control, blackmailing, age gap (reader is 21), dubcon (saying this just to be safe because Wanda uses her powers for evil a lot here), smut: oral, fingering, penetration/sex toy use, voyeurism (kinda), edging, overstimulation (if I forgot something please let me know!)

A/N: hi this is 6k words, which is the longest single fic I’ve ever written/posted here haha. also the end is not technically the end, if you know what I mean. anyway this took forever to write so enjoy this super far from canon fic and please tell me what you thought!! (also if you’re on my taglist and you weren’t tagged it’s because your age wasn’t in your bio)

“Here, let me take that for you,” Peter offers when he notices you headed toward the car, and you hand your suitcase to him with a smile.

“Thanks, P.”

You close the car door behind you after getting in on the passenger side, instantly reaching for his phone resting on the dashboard once you were buckled in. The two of you had an unspoken rule that you controlled the music whenever you traveled together, so his library was filled with various playlists you’d created simply because you didn’t trust him not to listen to the same five songs for the rest of his life.

“This is different,” Peter comments as he gets in on the driver’s side and catches the opening notes to an upbeat song. “I thought you were going to go with something calmer to help you sleep, like you usually do.”

“Well, I’m not usually going to meet the Avengers, so I’m too nervous to sleep.” You turn to pout at him as he drives off. “Is it too late to cancel?”

“Don’t even think about it. If I show up without you, everyone will think you’re imaginary.”

“Do they think you can’t make any friends outside of Ned?” you question as you open a bottle of water. “Because they’re not wrong.”

“I can make friends!” Peter whines and a quiet snorting sound escapes you.

“You can’t use me as an example.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re not actually friends.”

He picks up on your teasing nature and rolls his eyes, causing you to laugh as you lean back and settle into your seat more. You had well over three hours to stress about spending a week with the world’s most popular superheroes, and you’d rather be comfortable while you do so.

“Wake up, we’re here!”

Your eyes fly open at the sound of Peter’s voice, and any of the nerves that left long enough to let you sleep made a U-turn and hit you again, full force. Sitting up straight in the seat, you practice breathing properly while stretching and taking a look around as he pulls into the garage.

“Are you okay?” Peter asks once he parks, placing a hand over yours as he meets your gaze and you smile.

“I’ll be fine, P. I’m not gonna miss out on hanging out with you just because your super family is super intimidating.”

“Good. Besides, it won’t even be that bad! I’m willing to bet $1 million that they’ll love you.”

“I appreciate your optimism,” you tell him as the two of you get out of the car. “But you’re going to regret that bet when I use your money to retire early in some faraway rural town.”

Peter carried both suitcases as you made your way to an elevator, and you jumped when you suddenly heard a male voice.

“Welcome, Mr. Parker and Ms. L/N.”

“What is that?” you questioned as you faced Peter with wide eyes and he chuckled.

“You’re hearing Jarvis, Mr. Stark’s AI. Hey Jarvis, can you take us to the common room, please?”

“Right away, Mr. Parker.”

“This is so cool,” you comment as you look around the suddenly moving elevator. “How does it know my name?”

“Knowing everything is kind of its job, I guess.”

“Underoos!” a voice calls as soon as the doors open, quickly revealing itself to belong to Tony Stark as his gaze lands on you next. “So she is real.”

“I told you!” Peter defends as you step off the elevator together. “Mr. Stark, this is Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, kid,” Tony greets you with a shake of your hand. “I’m glad he found you. I was starting to worry that he’d build a robot to spend the rest of his life with.”

“I’m just his best friend, so it’s still possible.”

“Is this your friend, Peter?” Steve cuts off Peter’s response as he enters the room, moving to shake your hand next. “I’m Steve. Nice to meet you.”

“Okay, I’m going to show her to our rooms and then we’ll be back for dinner,” Peter tells everyone once you’d been introduced to Pepper, Bruce and Clint as well, and you’re about to head for the elevator again when someone interrupts.

“How about we take her down to her room instead?”

Your eyes widen as you watch none other than Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff enter the room hand in hand. Natasha’s hair seemed much longer than the last time she’d been in the public eye, but her all-knowing smirk was just the same and her green eyes were even more piercing in person. You noticed a bit of red glowing in Wanda’s eyes, which faded as she probably realized you’d seen, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that meant she hated you already.

“I know what you’re up to, Red.” Tony seemed accusatory as he pointed a finger at the pair. “You can’t bribe her into helping you cheat tonight.”

“Maybe I planned on giving her tips for surviving this testosterone filled tower.”

Natasha steps forward and grabs your hand with her free one, and with a flick of her wrist, Wanda has your suitcase floating in front of you as they lead you into the elevator.

“Sorry to whisk you away like that,” Wanda apologizes as the doors close with her head tilted to see you past Natasha. “We’re just excited to meet a new woman here.”

“No, it’s okay!” you insist breathlessly, your nerves slowly returning as Natasha lightly squeezes your hand. “I’m actually really excited to meet the two of you.”

“You know who we are?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that I know you personally, but I know that you’re one of the original team members.” You make eye contact briefly with Natasha before turning to Wanda. “And because the news stations somehow get ahold of everything, I know you joined after you helped everyone stop Ultron before he could create that indestructible body and destroy the world.”

“Yes, that’s true. Although I wish I could’ve saved my brother, too.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you lost him...or that you even had a brother.”

“It’s okay,” Wanda assures you with a smile as she lets go of Natasha, shifting to the other side of the elevator to grab your free hand. “I asked Fury to keep Pietro a secret because I didn’t want to see or hear any negative opinions from people that never even met him.”

“And we have plenty of time to get to know each other,” Natasha chimes in as the doors open to reveal a new setting. “This is our floor. We set up a spare bedroom here so we can spend time together away from the boys...when you’re not with Peter, of course.”

“Yeah, that’d be great!”

They lead you past their living room and kitchen, and you shamelessly admire the simple decor with little personal touches spread about. Turning into a hallway, Natasha walks ahead of you and Wanda to open a door to a bedroom.

“What do you think?” she asks with a smile that widens upon seeing your expression. “I’m guessing it’s good, then.”

“It’s perfect!” you cry out as you walk past to enter the room, immediately noticing the eggshell colored walls trimmed with your favorite color along the borders. “Wow, this is four times the size of a normal bedroom. Wait a minute.”

“Do you like it?” Wanda asks when she sees you pick up the glass figurine on the nightstand. “Peter mentioned your love of this animal and I have a whole collection of them from different places.”

“Like it? I love it! I have the same one in my dorm room!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I can get you a different one.” She steps forward as she brings your suitcase to the floor beside the bed and you hug the small object close to your chest.

“Like I said, it’s perfect,” you assure her with a grin, which brings one to her own face.

“Well, I’m glad you’re happy with the set up. When you’re ready to head up to dinner, we’ll be waiting by the elevator. Also, if you ever need anything, our room is right across the hall.”

Natasha points to the closed door a few feet away, and you acknowledge her statement with a nod before they leave the room, closing your door nearly all the way behind them. You flop down on the bed with a dreamy sigh as you gaze up at the ceiling with a night sky painted on it.

“I don’t think I’ll ever want to leave this place.”

On the elevator ride up to join everyone for dinner, Natasha and Wanda take turns asking you questions about your classes and any friends you’d made, what you liked to do when you weren’t studying. You had to admit that the level of interest they had with you was shocking but flattering, especially when they insisted you sit between them at the table to continue your conversation.

“You don’t seem to be nervous anymore,” Peter acknowledges as you sit down, and Wanda faces you immediately.

“Were you nervous about meeting us?”

“Well, yeah,” you answer timidly, avoiding catching anyone’s curious glances by directing a glare toward Peter. “You might be normal people in here, but to the rest of the world, you’re portrayed as powerful and untouchable beings.”

“Maybe when they’re not talking about how much damage we’ve caused,” Bruce mumbles under his breath as the elevator doors opened again.

“I’m here, I’m here!” a voice calls as footsteps hurry toward the dining area, and Sam Wilson is revealed as he rounds the corner. “Sorry, I’m late. I was--”

“On a date, we know. You only told us that 500 times.”

“Don’t be jealous, old man. You’re married.” Sam grins at Clint as he sits next to him before his attention turns to you. “Do we have a newbie?”

“No, Mr. Wilson. This is my best friend, Y/N.”

“Call me Sam, kid.” He smiles at you as he goes for his silverware, and you’re just about to acknowledge him when his expression suddenly turns serious. “I’m sorry. You’re not a kid. You’re an independent and capable adult, and I should address you as such.”

“What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know.” Sam clears his throat and shakes his head as if he was clearing his mind. “I just suddenly felt the need to correct myself…You have any powers we should know about, Y/N?”

“No!” you quickly respond with widened eyes. “I wasn’t going to say anything, actually. I’m pretty used to older people calling me kid by now.”

From your left side, Natasha asks Clint to recall an embarrassing tale for you and the table livens up again, but you can’t seem to move past the unsettling way Sam shifted gears from calm and casual to uptight and disciplined. The image stayed with you through the rest of dinner even after he seemed to fully recover, until dishes were cleared away and replaced with games, and you suddenly had a lot more to focus on.

“I just don’t think it’s fair that he gets to be on your team again when I haven’t had him once.”

“Is anything fair with the guy who could use his personalized AI to cheat for him?”

“Could I do that? Yes. But have I done that? Maybe.”

“Wanna grab some fresh air with us?” Natasha suddenly asks you, causing you to frown.

“Aren’t we about to play another game?”

“It’ll take them another half hour before they finally decide something,” Wanda assures you as her fingers thread through yours gently. “We have plenty of time, and they won’t even notice we’re gone.”

They lead you by the hand to the elevator once more, going up a few floors before leading you out onto a balcony. Because you were so much higher than most of the surrounding buildings, there was an incredible view of the sun that was probably minutes away from disappearing to the other side of the world. The air is chillier than when you’d arrived, but you had to admit that standing in the cool breeze is worth a few goosebumps on your skin. Your hands are released as you reach a bench near the ledge, and you climb over it to sit as the other two women settle on either side of you.

“Why did Peter decide to share his secret with you?”

“Technically he didn’t,” you recall with a laugh. “He’d gone out to deal with something that activated his spider sense or whatever and I came to his dorm room to sleep after an exam because I was too tired to walk all the way to my place. Anyway, I walk in at the same time he’s coming back in through the window, and I swear we both sat there for a full two minutes before either of us could think of anything to say.”

“It’s still very nice of you to keep such a big secret for him,” Natasha praises, and your laughter quiets down as you take in her words.

“I guess I just know what it feels like to not want your life to change drastically because of one thing.” Your gaze shifts between the women for a moment. “That reminds me, I wanted to ask--”

“Wait, look at this!” Wanda quickly cuts you off with an enthusiastic grin. “You’re about to witness one of my favorite things about living here.”

She directs you to lean over and look at the streets as the sun finally disappears over the horizon, and you can’t help the small gasp that escapes you. Street lights begin turning on at what seems to be the center of the city and quickly spreading, increasing the radius of well-lit neighborhoods by the second. It was a mesmerizing sight that--until every lamp was on--nearly made you forget the question you were building toward.

“That was so cool!” you express honestly before clearing your throat awkwardly. “So I wanted to ask if the two of you were dating...or in a relationship or whatever. I mean, I don’t want to assume anything of course, just wondering because you share a room and floor, and you seem to be really into holding hands.”

“Well, I’d never really been into holding hands or a lot of other forms of affection before I met Wanda, but she seemed to flip some switch inside of me.” Natasha admitted with a bashful chuckle as she glanced at Wanda before turning to study you. “And your hands are so perfect to hold.”

“To answer your question, we are together.” Wanda rests a hand on your thigh and casts a sweet smile in your direction when you face her again. “Natasha was the first to give me a chance after everything with Ultron, and initially I thought I was just feeling grateful to receive some type of positive attention from someone other than Pietro. It wasn’t until Tash called me out on staring at her lips that I realized I wanted more than friendship.”

“The only reason I did was to confirm she was feeling the same things I’d finally come to terms with myself.” Natasha chuckles as Wanda sends over a bit of red mist to squeeze her own thigh. “What about you, love?”

“What about me?”

“Do you think you’re feeling more than friendship for Peter?”

“Oh no,” you quickly denied with a chuckle. “He’s the perfect example of a great boyfriend, but not my boyfriend. Plus I’d rather not have the same experience as MJ did.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, the ‘close friends to a relationship that ends with each person pretending the other doesn’t exist’ experience. I’d rather not.”

“Yeah, that does sound messy,” Natasha sighs as she subtly rests her hand on your other thigh. “So you’re not looking for a great boyfriend. What are you looking for then?”

“Nothing really, at least until I finish school, but having a girlfriend would be nice. I’d like to be with someone that respects me and can take care of themselves when I’m not around, because I tried the ‘caring for someone’ thing and it sucks when they don’t put in the same effort that you do.”

“Maybe you should try someone older, more mature,” Natasha suggests as she shifts to squeeze your knee lightly, and you start to feel a bit nervous about where she’s going with this. “Maybe two people that already have their shit together and would go to the ends of the earth to please you.”

“Okay, um…” You push both of their hands away with a bit of difficulty. “You both seem great and you’re incredibly attractive, but I’m not really interested.”

“Don’t worry about it, detka.” Natasha pushes your shoulder down as you try to get up, and Wanda cups your cheek with her hand.

“You may not be interested now…” She stands with Natasha and leans in to kiss your forehead, letting her lips linger on your skin as she continues. “But you will be.”

She pulls away and winks before lacing her fingers through Natasha’s as they leave the balcony, and you gasp in air as the tension they’d built seems to exit behind them. You finally decide to head back once you’ve taken a few minutes to catch your breath and calm your shaking limbs, but you wonder how long the calm will truly last.

You found yourself waking up suddenly and practically flying into a sitting position as if someone had pulled you up, but luckily the room is empty. You sit for a moment to catch your breath and survey your surroundings to assure you’re truly alone, and you notice your door is cracked right before you hear an unidentifiable sound.

“Fuck.”

Despite every fiber of your being screaming at you as one would do to a character in a horror film, you decide to climb out of bed to investigate what you were hearing, justifying your actions with the excuse of seeing if your floor-mates were in danger, as if you could save them. A few seconds after opening your door fully and peeking out made you realize that they were more than okay.

“Fuck! Right there, please don’t stop.”

“Such a dirty mouth, malyshka.”

You’re quick to return the door to its cracked position, leaning against the nearby wall with wide eyes as you attempt to process the image across the hall. The bedroom door sits wide open, giving you the chance to examine every inch of bare skin of the two women spread across the bed, Wanda resting on her arched back with her hands in Natasha’s red hair buried between her legs. Her moans seem to raise in volume, pitch and frequency as she’s brought closer and closer to the edge, and you ignore the warm feeling in your lower abdomen as you hurry back to bed and throw a pillow over your exposed ear.

“Good morning.”

Your free hand quickly shoots upward to catch your water glass as it slipped through your fingers in your moment of shock, and you try not to make a deal of hearing two sets of footsteps headed toward the kitchen.

“How’d you sleep last night? I know how scary it can be to rest your eyes in a new place.”

“I think I did pretty well,” you answer quietly as you step away from the fridge and lean against a section of the counter that faces out into the rest of the room. “The bed’s really nice.”

“You’re lying,” Wanda accuses as she crosses the room, eyes turning red and hands lifting toward your face.

“What are you--”

“Couldn’t sleep because of us, right?” She chuckles when you go limp under her touch, and Natasha ducks between the two of you to save your glass for the second time. “Did you enjoy hearing us that much?”

“You did sound really good,” you tell her with a drowsy smile as she pins you against the counter to keep you from falling.

“I bet you wish you were in my place, don’t you?” Her tone is light and teasing at first, becoming a bit stern as she shifts to push her thigh between your legs and you instantly roll your hips against the pressure. “Or maybe you want to taste me while Natasha fucks you?”

“No.”

“No?!” she fires back immediately, leaving a red mist around your temples as she grabs your waist with both hands to keep you grinding against her. “You mean you don’t want to cum right now?”

“Well, now that you mention it…”

A breathy moan escapes you as your eyes flutter closed, and if your head wasn’t being forcefully held in place, it would’ve tipped backward. You feel what must be Natasha’s fingertips grazing along your jaw and tracing a line down the side of your neck and toward your shoulder, repeating the gentle motion as goosebumps appeared all over the exposed skin.

“Is everyone decent?”

The fog behind your eyes seems to clear in seconds, and you blink in confusion when you open your eyes to see Natasha and Wanda making coffee nearby. You try to recall even coming into the kitchen, but everything from the moment you stepped into the bathroom to get ready is a blur, so you shake your head and reach for your glass of water on the counter as Natasha responds.

“Come in, Peter.”

“Morning, everyone,” Peter greets cheerfully as he enters the kitchen, his grin falling when his eyes land on you. “Are you okay?”

You open your mouth with the full intention of telling him that you are not okay, not when you were missing at least an hour of memory, and bits of last night were slipping away from you too. But before you could speak, a cold feeling seems to pass through the back of your skull to slip into your brain, and a switch flips.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you respond with a chuckle. “You worry too much, spiderling.”

“The world’s a stressful place,” he grumbles when you playfully ruffle his hair. “Anyway, are you ready to go soon?”

“Where are you headed?” Natasha quickly asks with a frown. “Y/N hasn’t even had breakfast yet.”

“We’re meeting Aunt May, so we’ll eat with her.”

“I just have to grab my bag,” you explain before heading down the hall to your temporary room, feeling the chilly sensation leaving you as you get further away from the kitchen, and it thankfully doesn’t return when you head back. “Ready.”

“Have fun!” Natasha calls as Peter heads for the elevator again, quickly grabbing your wrist once he’s out of sight. “See you tonight, printsessa.”

Her hand quickly shifts to grip the back of your neck as she leans in to kiss your cheek, and the two women are wearing sweet smiles as you turn away from them to catch up with Peter, attempting to shake the shell-shocked expression from your features.

“You sure you’re good?”

“I’m fine,” you insist as the doors close, in hopes that you really would be fine.

Meeting Peter’s aunt was much more of a pleasant experience than you expected, and it was obvious she adored you by the way she spoke to you, although part of you felt she was just happy Peter had more people around to love him. Your day was cut a bit short when MJ unexpectedly approached Peter, requesting to talk to him, and Aunt May offered to drive you back to the tower so you both could escape that awkward mess of a conversation.

“It was so great to meet you today,” you tell her with a grin as you take off your seatbelt.

“Likewise, honey. You have my number so just call me if you ever need anything, okay?”

She pulls you into a hug over the middle console and you thank her again for the ride as you get out of the car, trying not to seem too nervous when you notice Natasha and Wanda standing in the lobby. Your plan was to walk past them without speaking, but you should’ve known that wouldn’t work.

“Why was she hugging you?” Natasha asks coldly as you enter the building and you sigh.

“She was just saying goodbye--wait. Why am I explaining myself to you?”

You keep walking until they’re no longer in your peripheral, stopping abruptly as a red mist surrounds your legs, and your eye-rolling is cut short when Wanda appears in front of you and grabs your chin harshly.

“If Tash asks you a question, you answer.”

“Without attitude,” Natasha adds, which makes you want to roll your eyes again.

“Sorry, I didn’t get the rules handbook when I arrived. Can I go now?”

“You know what?” Wanda cuts off Natasha’s angry response with a smirk. “You can go.”

The red mist surrounding you disappeared, and despite the suspicious feeling that washed over you, you continued on toward the elevator with your head held high. You refused to let them get to you.

It was subtle at first. A slight tingling between your legs that you couldn’t seem to get rid of. In the very beginning, you were worried that something was wrong until you realized where the feeling was coming from when it turned into slow circles around your clit as you caught up with Peter in his room. By dinner, there was the added sensation of fingers curling inside you at a steady pace, and you hoped no one would notice your hips slightly bucking under the table as you attempted to repeatedly chase a release that never came.

A movie follows dinner today, and you make sure to cover yourself with a large blanket because you were still being edged and you couldn’t stop moving at this point. You even try to slide your hand into your sweatpants to finish the job yourself, and your jaw clenches in anger every time your fingers lock up because you know who’s responsible.

“Okay, you win!” you announce as you walk into the kitchen on Natasha and Wanda’s private floor, not missing the look shared between the two women. “I’m sorry I was rude earlier. Can you please just stop teasing me?”

“How about we help you finish instead?”

You should decline. You should just say ‘no’ because letting them finish you off tonight will turn into an attachment that you know you don’t want, nor are you ready for. Inviting them in will be equivalent to selling your soul, and you’re not sure you want to put a price on it. But the ache below your stomach is persistent, and if they won’t let you touch yourself, someone has to do it.

“Fine.”

“Don’t be so grumpy about it,” Wanda teases as she grabs your hand and starts leading you toward their bedroom. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

She pushes you back onto the surprisingly large bed as soon as you’re close enough, instructing you to take off your shirt and bra while she watches. Once your top half is completely exposed, she leans forward to run her hands from your shoulders down toward your nipples, circling them with her thumbs until they harden.

“I don’t like being teased.”

“Oh, you don’t?” she asks in a mocking tone as she reaches for the band of your sweatpants and pulls them down, placing her palm over the wet spot in your panties. “Then what’s this?”

“Please,” you beg through a quiet moan, bucking your hips again when she presses her thumb against your clit through the fabric. “Please just fuck me already.”

“Patience, detka.”

You watch with wide eyes as Natasha and Wanda both strip away their own sweatpants, revealing the toys tied to their legs. Natasha goes to untie hers while Wanda uses her powers to rip away your ruined panties in one fluid motion.

“There she is.”

Natasha puts her hand on Wanda’s back and forces her to bend over, and you bite your lip as her eyes flutter closed and mouth falls open while Natasha thrusts into her. You’re just about to grab Wanda’s hand to lead her where you want, when her eyes open suddenly with a glowing red surrounding her pupils, and your wrists are bound together over your head by an invisible force.

“Did you forget who’s in charge here?”

“Don’t get too cocky, malyshka,” Natasha reminds her as she grabs a fistful of her hair and slams into her, causing Wanda to moan and giggle at the same time.

“My apologies, Tash.”

You couldn’t help your sigh of relief as Wanda finally slid two fingers inside of you, her thrusts deepening each time as Natasha fucked her toward you with her hands on her hips. The sounds coming from your mouth and between your legs were embarrassingly loud, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as she brought you closer and closer to the edge, until a loud whine escaped you as she removed her fingers and delivered a slap to your glistening folds.

“Tell me who this belongs to,” she orders through her own moans, holding you down when you begin grinding into her hand. “I’m gonna cum regardless of what you do, so you’d better answer. Be a good girl like I know you can.”

“Yours!” you cry out finally, sighing when Natasha leans into your line of sight with a brow raised. “It’s yours and Natasha’s.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

She slips back into you without warning, and your back arches off the bed as she finally brings you to orgasm. She continues to thrust into you as you whine and squirm away, luckily slowing down and finally stopping as Natasha makes her cum a minute later, leaving the strap inside of her as they both catch their breath. Wanda pulls out of you and sits up to lean against her, holding her hand up between them as they both clean your cum off her fingers with their tongues, and you sit there clenching around nothing as you watch.

“You seem tired,” Natasha comments as her eyes land on you again.

“Too bad we’re not done.”

Wanda flips you onto your stomach with a quick motion of her fingers, using her hands to pull you by the waist until you’re on your knees at the edge of the bed, and she holds one side of your waist as she delivers a slap to your ass this time. Her touch lingers as she pulls away to free her own strap, and you nearly fall over when you feel the tip of the toy rub against your clit.

“Wait, let me fuck her this time.”

You hear their soft laughter as they switch places, sharing a kiss in the process, and you gasp when a hand wraps around your neck and pulls you up against Natasha’s chest.

“I like having you this close to me, printsessa,” she whispers in your ear, chuckling when you melt against her as she pushes the tip of her strap into you. “How many times do you think I can get you to cum?”

Her grip on your throat is loose as she allows you to adjust to the size, tightening suddenly when she slams into you once, twice, until every thrust is at a rough pace that you wouldn’t be able to handle if she wasn’t holding you against her by the waist. You feel that same tingling circling your clit again, occasionally traveling upward to tease your nipples as well, and it wasn’t long before you were releasing a strangled scream as you climaxed.

Natasha eventually stops thrusting into you as your legs shake, and you breathe out another sigh of relief when she allows you to fall onto the mattress. However, the relief is short-lived when you realize that she only paused to let Wanda push into her from behind, and it wasn’t long before the two of them found a rhythm that was pleasing them and ruining you.

Your wrists are freed as Natasha pulls out of you some minutes later, and you collapse onto one side of the bed with your body aching a bit from a third orgasm, your eyes only halfway open as you watch the pair. They remove the straps from their waists and set them aside, and you become a bit more alert when you notice Natasha grab what seems to be a double-ended dildo.

“No more. I can’t,” you mumble tiredly as your wrists are bound by Wanda’s power again.

“One more, and you can,” she tells you as she flops onto the bed beside you, and that red mist surrounds her fingers again as she guides you onto your knees to hover above her face. “You wanted to cum, so you don’t get to run from this.”

Her hands grab your waist and pull you closer, and you release a shuddering moan as her tongue runs past your hole and over your clit, teasing it a few times with the tip of her tongue before diving in to wrap her lips around it. She alternates between sucking your clit and slipping inside you as Natasha climbs on the bed behind you to position herself with the new toy.

“Fuck,” Wanda attempts to say once Natasha begins thrusting, and you fall forward as the vibration of her moans become too much, whining when Natasha slides her hands over your breasts and pulls you back up again.

“Take it all like a good girl.”

She keeps pulling until your head drops against her, and she moans against your neck while she kisses and sucks on your skin, bouncing faster on Wanda who groans loudly in response as she attempts to match each thrust. The hums of her voice has you grinding against her tongue, and you yelp when Natasha bites down just as Wanda brings you over the edge. She keeps going despite your protests, managing to get you to cum once more before they finally do.

You lie there with your bones feeling like jelly as you’re covered with a blanket minutes after everyone’s bathroom trip, too tired to even fight for sleeping in your own bed as Natasha and Wanda slide in on either side of you.

“You did so well tonight, detka,” Wanda praises as she strokes your cheek with a loving stare. “I can tell you’ll be a great addition to our relationship. I knew it from the moment I saw you.”

“I’m not doing this again,” you insist as the smile fades from her expression. “I’m not getting in a relationship with two women that don’t take ‘no’ for an answer, and I’d prefer sleeping in my own bed.”

“You’re already in a relationship with us, printsessa,” Natasha growls as she shoves you back down when you try to get up, and you push her hand away.

“There’s nothing you can say that’ll make me want to be with you.”

“It’s not about what you want to do. It’s about what you have to do.” She grabs your phone from the nightstand, and you’re somehow not even surprised when she unlocks it on the first try. “Because it’d be a shame if someone was to tell Peter about all the nudes you have of him.”

You snatch the phone from her grip, eyes widening as you scroll through your camera roll, finding naked pictures of Peter scattered throughout it. You check the date on the oldest one and began to feel nauseous when you saw it was taken not even a month after the two of you met.

“Don’t think you’ll be deleting those either, because we can replace them and make things worse.” Her smile was falsely sweet and troubling as she grabbed your chin to force you to make eye contact. “We’ve gone this long without having you, and we’ll do whatever it takes not to lose you.”

Tags: @cordeliaswhore @egotisticalstoner @muralskins @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @madamevirgo @teenwonder @honeyvenable @slut-for-nat

2K notes · View notes

wonjaekook · 4 years

Text

Residual Starshine

Pairing: Soccer player!Yuta x fem!reader

Description: You’ve experienced plenty of irritations in your life. For better or for worse, none of them are quite like Nakamoto Yuta.

Word Count: 19.3k

Genre: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers ; fluff, smut, touch of angst

Warnings: my first published full blown smut scene (only one towards the end, nothing crazy), sexual references?, swearing, mentions of alcohol

A/N: Mingyu appears as a somewhat bad character in this, but I absolutely don’t think of him that way. As always, this is entirely fictional. If you want one song to vibe to while reading this, I was listening to Everybody Talks by Neon Trees a lot :-) this is the longest fic I’ve ever written and the first one containing smut that I’ve ever published, so please let me know what you thought!

Taglist: @junglewoos @insomni-writing @neowritingsnet

This is my contribution to @/leesmrk’s sports collab, but she deactivated (Dee I miss you) so @lucas-wongs has compiled the masterlist in her stead! The link to the master post with all other submissions is in my masterlist.

You didn’t expect to be spending your first morning before classes with your face smashed into your pillow, pressing the cotton over your ears. Yesterday morning had been perfectly lovely - you slept a solid eight hours and you only awoke to the beautiful morning sunshine greeting you through your blinds. All things considered, it was a very natural wake-up. However, the loud J-rock blaring through the floor from the apartment below you is the exact opposite of natural. Perhaps the music isn’t as loud as you perceive it to be, but you happen to take things quite personally when you’re woken up an hour early.

Except, you don’t take it personally enough that you force your body out of bed. Instead, you allow yourself to let out a loud groan of annoyance before you pull your covers over your head. Thankfully, the music shuts off about five minutes later and you drift back off to sleep.

When you awaken again an hour later, the sunlight coming into your room doesn’t seem nearly as friendly as it did yesterday. Still, this time you do force yourself to get up. You go through your usual routine - bathroom, change into your running clothes, and stretch. You hear no sounds of any stirring from your roommates as you get ready. It’s somewhat of a relief to have the apartment to yourself in the morning. You put your headphones in and step out of the apartment, trying to get yourself in the zone with your workout playlist while also doing a quick look around to see if anyone is out. One set of stairs and you’re at the door leading out of the small complex - a building with four apartments, two on the first floor and two on the second floor. Outside on the step leading to the sidewalk and there’s still no one around. Without a second of hesitation more, you’re off at a light jog. Half of the apartments in this area of your campus are dedicated to student athletes and there’s nothing you dread more than running, quite literally, into someone who’s by far your superior at this activity and who would judge you. As you run, the thought of your lower neighbor comes to you. You wake up early to go run - but they woke up earlier. At that thought, a frown subconsciously makes its way to your face. Shooting a quick prayer to the heavens that you don’t run into anyone, you continue on.

Though you hadn’t started running until this summer, you know your campus well enough in the years you’ve been here to find a nice path. That also means that, when you see pairs of runners ahead of you, you can make unexpected turns to avoid passing them. At one point, you veer out of the way of a pack of people who you assume is the running club. About forty five minutes later, you’re sweaty and more physically exhausted than when you had left, but the energy thrumming in your veins leaves you with a deep sense of satisfaction. You had successfully avoided every person you had come across on your run and-

You nearly open the door of your complex into one of your neighbors. Acting on reflex, you step back and dip your head, avoiding looking at him. “Oh, sorry.”

“That’s alright.” His voice is a smooth rumble and you look up, briefly forgetting about your sweaty and near-unpresentable state. He looks freshly showered, his skin smooth and just slightly sunkissed. Based on his physique, you would have guessed that he’s a student athlete, but his hair seems a little too long to match the stereotype. It’s a bit of a mane, a dark mop sitting atop the throne of his handsome face, and you think it suits him. As your eyes drift from his hair to his eyes to his nose and finally to his mouth, which has been set into the crooked angle of a smirk, it dawns on you that you’re checking him out very openly. Your face, already warm from exercise, turns blazing hot. After all of the hard work you went through to avoid embarrassing yourself this morning… “You’re cute, too, don’t worry.”

Several very intrusive thoughts come to you at once. By his very specific phrasing, he thinks you’re attractive. He also knows he’s attractive. The warmth of the complement fades to indignation at his cockiness. You press your mouth into a thin line and lower your head again, not making eye contact with him as you slip past him through the door. You’re not sure if his gaze follows you as you march back up the stairs to your apartment.

“One of our neighbors is a total ass!”

One of your roommates, Sowon, is lounging on your sofa as you sit at the small table in your shared living room, grinding the pen in your hand into your planner in frustration. It’s well into the afternoon now, the sun casting lines of shadows through your blinds, and you’re still hung up on what happened earlier. Sowon is also perfectly aware that you’re exaggerating, but she encourages you to continue. “The soccer neighbors or the volleyball neighbors?”

“Of course it’s one of the soccer neighbors! The volleyball neighbors would never do this to me.” You huff, eying the nearly empty container of cookies on the table.

“You’re aware that Johnny just brought those over so he had an excuse to hit on Yein, right?” Sowon releases a strand of hair that she had just idly wrapped around a finger, watching it twirl in the air. Your second roommate only sighs at the mention of her name, but doesn’t deny it.

“And Doyoung was the one who actually made them. So, by association, I am entitled to an equal share of cookies.” You consider Doyoung a friend - you shared a chemistry class with him once and he seemed to tolerate your presence, even enjoy it at times. He even sends you the occasional text still. “That doesn’t mean Yein isn’t going to be the one to give the container back, though.”

Yein frowns and opens her mouth but Sowon raises a finger to stop her. “Y/N is correct.”

With a shake of her head, Yein turns her attention back to you. “You were talking about the soccer neighbor?”

After you explain the situation as truthfully and dramatically as possible to them, they look at each other once before looking back at you. Sowon speaks first. “He’s definitely flirting.”

“Or he’s just like that naturally.” Yein counters. “Who flirts at eight in the morning?”

“You’d be surprised.” After you say that, her words sink in. You ran into him at eight in the morning, when he was looking refreshed. He’s a member of the soccer team, meaning he probably exercises in the morning. He also has pretty stereotypical rocker hair. “Holy shit, he’s the asshole who was blasting J-rock through the floor this morning!”

“Okay, never mind. He is a jerk.” Sowon wrinkles her nose.

“Was it at least good J-rock?” Yein prods.

You shrug. “It was alright, I guess. But that’s besides the point!” You slam your planner closed. “I’m giving him a piece of my mind the next time I see him.”

For several days, as classes start, you still get in your morning run and, each day, without fail, you’re woken up by the boy’s J-rock about an hour early. You fail to catch him at any time of the day until, finally, you’re on your way out of the apartment one morning. As you pull open the door, you nearly ram into him once again, though the situation is reversed. He’s the one who’s sweaty and warm, headphones firmly in his ears. That changes as he smirks, popping them out at the sight of you in the door. “So, we meet again.”

“Uh-huh.” You take the position of a displeased mother about to lecture a child, your arms crossed over your chest as you block the door. “You know, I have words for you.”

“Wow, already? People usually don’t have words for me until at least the third time we’ve met. Well, at least not more than a few choice ones like-”

You cut him off before he can inflate his own ego more. “Stop playing music so loud at six in the morning.”

He tilts his head like he’s confused, but the way his lips are quirked up tells you that he knows exactly what you’re talking about. “Baseless accusations. Maybe you should take this up with Jaehyun or Kun. I would never do such a thing.”

“Come on. I know it’s you.” The look you give him is entirely unamused, so he relents slightly, the smile falling from his face.

“What are you gonna do, report me to housing?” Before you can reply that, yes, that’s exactly what you’ll do, he continues. “I’ll tell them about the parties you and your roommates have. I’m sure they’d love coming out here at 3 AM one day just to tell you to keep it down. Almost as much as they’d love to come to my door at 6 to do the same.”

He starts walking towards the door and you turn your body inward, allowing him passage while silently fuming. “You-”

“My name is Nakamoto Yuta. You can say that if you need something to scream.” He gifts you a sly wink as he unlocks his door and lets himself in, leaving you so bewildered that you can’t think of a response at all.

“Stop messing with the soccer boys.” Sowon immediately reprimands you after you recount what happened. “You know the school will punish us before they punish them.”

“Yeah, and if this is your way of flirting, you need to think of something better.” Yein adds from the connected kitchen, tossing the stir-fry in her pan. “I’m not risking getting kicked out because you decided to mess with the soccer team’s star player.”

“To be fair, I don’t think he was really upset about the interaction. He seemed amused by my reaction.” You slump down, your forehead resting on the table. “And I didn’t know who he was until he said his name.”

“Well, he doesn’t know who you are-”

“And I don’t want him to.” You cut off Sowon. “I’ll just… deal with it.”

You get one more peaceful morning of running alone before, two days after you had first talked to him, Nakamoto Yuta comes jogging up to you. You don’t hear him at first. Music blares in your earbuds, drowning out most of the background noise of the morning, and your heartbeat in your ears fills out the parts of your internal sound profile that your music doesn’t quite reach. He comes up behind you, nearly making you jump out of your skin when you see the figure of another person jogging in your peripherals. Your pace falters, but you immediately try to right yourself and regain momentum, praying he’ll just pass by you without saying anything. Except he doesn’t leave. With an internal sigh, you turn your head towards him. He offers you a grin and air-taps over his ear. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you pull out your headphones. “What?”

“Great morning, isn’t it?”

You contemplate shutting your eyes so that you can purposefully trip and eject yourself from this conversation. “I guess.”

“It’s soccer season. You know that, right?” You narrow your eyes at him, but nod. “Our first game is coming up soon.” You don’t like where this is going. “You should come.” “You must be hard-pressed for attendees to be randomly asking your neighbor to come to your game.” You reach for your earbuds again.

“Hold on, hold on.” You pause, then immediately wonder why you’re even giving him the time of day. Still, you relent for a moment. “If you come to the game this Saturday, I’ll stop playing music so loud when I wake up.”

“If you were a kind and courteous neighbor, you would just do that without having to threaten me to go to one of your games. And,” you state flatly, “I’ve already been to enough soccer games for the rest of my life, thank you very much.”

As you jog away, he doesn’t try to stop you again, but you could swear that he seems the slightest bit disappointed.

The next morning is more of the same as usual. The same loud J-rock that wakes you up an hour early, your same run, your same shower and breakfast and classes. You consider shifting your sleep schedule so that you wake up at the same time as Yuta, though you dismiss the idea because why should you change your lifestyle to adjust for his? You’d rather suffer the early wakeup.

Except, two days after he asks you to come to one of his games, the music stops. That first morning, you wake up at your usual time. You’re prepared to be upset at Yuta waking you early again, but when your foggy morning brain processes that you had woken up to your own alarm and not his music, you lie there confused. When you go out for your run not long after, you almost hope that you’ll run into him. There’s no way he’s just being nice is there? He has to be sick or something. To your disappointment, you don't run into him and you’re just stuck in your confusion. This goes on for three more days and each day you become more perplexed.

As you’re returning to your apartment after your classes that Friday, someone holds the door for you as you approach. “Thanks-” you start, then see who’s holding it for you. “-oh! Jaehyun!”

“Hey, uh, Y/N, right?” You smile at him, nodding firmly. You’re almost surprised that he remembers your name because you’d only chatted once before, back when you were moving in. He’s perfectly polite, almost shy-seeming, and completely different from his roommate. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, I’m just getting back from classes.” Thinking of his roommate… “I was actually wondering, um…” He gives you a confused look, waiting for you to continue. “Is Yuta doing okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. Why?” Jaehyun hadn’t been aware that you were at all acquainted with his roommate.

You appear equally as confused as he does. “Oh, I… never mind. If you don’t mind me asking, where’s your next game?”

He brightens up at that. “It’s a home game. Tomorrow at six, don’t miss it!”

You return his smile. “Great, thanks, Jaehyun! I’ll see you around?” He sends you off with a wave before you go your separate ways, entering your respective apartments.

Should you actually go to his game? You don’t owe him anything, you never agreed to his deal, but he did stop playing his music so loud. You’re not really doing anything on Saturday either… maybe you’ll bug Sowon and Yein so that they’ll come with you.

That evening, the apartment below yours is particularly busy. All of the soccer boys are home - Yuta, Jaehyun, Kun - and the volleyball and art boys are also over - Johnny, Doyoung, Jungwoo, Taeyong, Ten, and Sicheng. After all, as Johnny says, Friday nights are for the boys. Conversation flows from school to girls to boys to soccer, upon which Jaehyun shares a very interesting observation with his friends.

“By the way, it seems like you have another admirer, Yuta.” Jaehyun says as he takes a swig of his soju, recently acquired from the nearby Korean market and grossly overpriced.

“Sure,” Yuta responds, rolling his eyes, “who would that be?”

“You know that girl from upstairs? Y/N? She asked about you today and then asked me about our next game.”

“We haven’t even had our first game and you’re already collecting fangirls? Come on, Yuta,” Kun chimes in this time, breaking away from his conversation with Sicheng about their shared organic chemistry class.

“That can’t be right,” Yuta says, leaning back into the couch, “L/N Y/N? I’m pretty sure she hates my guts. I tried to make a deal with her to get her to come to the game and she just brushed me off.”

Doyoung narrows his eyes at his friend. “Y/N doesn’t just hate people for no reason. What did you do?”

Yuta raises his hands defensively and half-glares at him. “I didn’t do anything! I was just being myself and she decided to hate me.”

“The star-player, cocky version of yourself or the normal version of yourself?” Doyoung says, looking entirely unamused.

Yuta thinks back to all of the encounters he’s had with you and cringes slightly. “Listen, she was the one who was checking me out first-”

“Stupid.” Doyoung shakes his head before taking a sip of the water he’s drinking. “Some people take well to forwardness, but not her.”

“Are you sure? Because if she’s asked after me, I think that means she likes it.”

“I am going to spike a ball into your head, you-”

“Guys, calm down,” Sicheng says with a rather flat tone. Instantly, the two bickering boys stop, resorting to glaring at each other. Jaehyun gently shoves his roommate to get his attention and the room quickly returns to normal. Later, Doyoung passes Yuta a new bottle once his has run out, so he knows that the younger was never truly angry at him. The small party doesn’t go long into the night - tomorrow’s the first game of the season, after all - and, surprisingly, there isn’t much noise from their upstairs neighbor either.

That is mostly thanks to you. You had convinced your two party-addicted friends to attend someone else’s get together instead of hosting their own, so you ushered them out of the house at around ten in the evening. You know that they’ll come back fine in a few hours, rumpled and with their makeup half sweated off, buzzing with alcohol and the blaring music of whatever houseparty they were invited to, but you still tell them that your phone will be off of silent in case they need anything. Previous semesters, you might have gone with them, but, now, you just want to sleep so you can wake up early and go on your usual run.

The morning comes with your sleep uninterrupted by your roommates. After you awaken, instead of lying in bed and contemplating life for a while, you drag yourself up and to their rooms, where you find each of them peacefully asleep in their beds. Yein bothered to change out of her party clothes and into pajamas while Sowon didn’t, her dress half off of her shoulder and bunched up under her butt. Both of them are snoring away, hugging pillows and blankets.

The relief of seeing your roommates in good condition adds a spring to your step. A few minutes later, after you’ve stretched on the floor of your bedroom, you’re halfway out the outside door of the complex when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You know who it is even before you turn around.

“Y/N,” Yuta says, grinning much too brightly for how early it is. He doesn’t seem like he’s been out yet, which is strange. “Good morning.”

“Is it?” You lift an eyebrow.

“Perfectly!” As he talks, you begin to move farther out the door. Down one step. Down two steps. On the sidewalk. “Do you want to run together?”

“Shouldn’t you be just coming back from doing that?” You pull out your phone.

He quickly matches his stride to yours. “I decided to start running an hour later on the weekends. You know, sleep in a bit since I have the time.”

“I’m happy for you.” You select a song and put one ear of your headphones in.

“Are you coming tonight?”

“Didn’t I already answer that?” In all honesty, you feel like you should be more irritated with him than you actually are. He’s at least amusing to talk to. Plus, he stopped waking you up an hour early without you even promising to come to his game.

“Yeah, but then you asked Jaehyun about it.”

You stop moving, turning to look at him. He has another one of those infuriating smirks on his face and all of your previous enjoyment flies out the window. “Maybe I’m a huge fan of his.”

“What position does he play?”

“I don’t have to answer that!” Now, your face is already warming and you haven’t even begun your exercise. You turn away from him again and begin to slowly jog. “Bye, Yuta.”

“He’s a midfielder! And I’m a forward! You can see today at the game!” He calls after you as you get farther away, his voice getting more distant. Part of you feels bad for your neighbors - the windows aren’t exactly soundproof. You just wave a hand back at him in dismissal. A minute later, you look behind you. To your great relief, and mild surprise, he isn’t following you. He went the complete opposite direction.

“Will you guys please come with me? I promise some of the guys on the team are hot.” You tug on Sowon’s sleeve like a child does to their mother when they want something.

“I thought you hated college soccer because of your brother.” She flips a page in her textbook, scribbling down something in her notes.

“I don’t think this one will be so bad. Our team is supposed to be really good this year, right?” You look hopefully at her.

“How am I supposed to know? How is anyone supposed to know? Today is their first game.” She stops attempting to study, looking at you. “Also, I’m messing around. I’ll go with you.”

You look at your other roommate, who is in the middle of the very exhaustive task of sitting on your sofa and scrolling through her phone. She gives you a thumbs up. “As long as I can put on face paint!”

A couple hours later, you find yourselves in the bleachers surrounding the soccer field. It’s a modest stadium, not a stadium at all but just a normal soccer field with bleachers on either side and some decently sized flood lights for night usage. Not too far away is a moderately sized building that is a shared locker room space for all of the school’s athletic teams. Your school never invested much of its funds into soccer until recently, largely thanks to Yuta and some of the other members who are in their third or fourth year playing who made a name for your university in the sport. You also suspect that they probably talked the ear off of the provost so that he finally agreed to give them more funding, but that’s just a personal guess.

From your place on the home side of the bleachers, you have total vision of the field. Both teams are running warm-up drills and it’s easy enough to spot the people you know: someone from your physics class named Mingyu, someone you remember from a party named Baekho, and your lower neighbors, Jaehyun, Kun, and, of course, Yuta. His hair is pulled back from his face in a small ponytail at the back of his head and a small version of your university’s lion mascot stands out proudly on his red jersey.

You purposefully make a point to look for him last, only to find that he’s completely focused. Though it’s just shooting drills, he seems like he’s entirely in the zone, his eyes sharp and calculated. From what you can tell. The physical distance between you isn’t huge, but you can’t read his expressions that well from this angle.

The sharp scream of a whistle being blown indicates that there’s five minutes until the start of the game. The teams both do a bit of last minute stretching as they gather around the coach, a man you recognize as a biology professor. Finally, just as the clock hits six, they squeeze closer together, arms slung over each others’ shoulders in a tight circle, and do some sort of indistinct chant that ends in something like “Go Lions!”

After they break away, you can see the shift in atmosphere. Everyone is completely serious. It’s the first game of the season and they aren’t going to destroy the reputation they’ve built up for the last three years. You watch as Jaehyun moves to his position as a midfielder, Kun moves to his position as defense, and Yuta lines up in the position of forward center. A coin flip gives the kick-off to the away team, a school with a hawk mascot. Everyone shifts slightly on their feet and, for a moment, the world seems to be silent. The crowd leans forward in their seats.

Then, the whistle is blown.

The game gets to a roaring start. From how cautiously the other team is playing, they seem to know the reputation of the Lions - a team that shot up out of nowhere and suddenly has one of the best forwards in college soccer. You find yourself grinning as the ball barely makes it past your team’s defensive midfielder Mingyu before it’s in the Lions’ metaphorical hands. Your midfielders carefully juggle the ball between them, passing and passing and passing, before it reaches Jaehyun at center midfield. He does his job quickly and efficiently, making it almost look easy, and the ball meets the half-tip. From there, the ball is stolen by one of the Hawks’ defense at a failed pass to the second striker, Baekho. The ball shoots all the way to midfield.

For a few tense minutes, you watch the players run back and forth across the field, their eyes never leaving the target. The game pauses every so often when the ball gets kicked out of bounds, but it always resumes with just as much vigor. About a quarter of the way through the game, Yuta finally has his breakthrough. Jaehyun lands a kick directly in his direction, giving him the perfect opportunity. The strike is clean and so fast that you would have missed it if your eyes weren’t glued to the movements of the ball. All of the people on your side of the bleachers launch to their feet in roaring cheers as the ball sails past the opponent goalie’s right side and into the net. You’re standing alongside everyone else, your hands cupped around your mouth as you yell in excitement. It’s not often that you see such a well done shot from a college team.

The boil of the crowd’s blood dies down a bit as the game continues, but soars back up whenever something particularly exciting happens. In the third quarter, the Hawks manage to land a goal on your team, but Yuta comes in clutch a few minutes later and scores two easy goals almost one after the other. The final score is deeply satisfying at 3:1.

The opposing team try to be good sports about it, but they’re obviously sulking when they shake your team’s hands. After they break away, they’re all gloriously sweaty, which you’re sure Sowon is excited about. Some of the spectators immediately rush out of the stands and make their way down, friends and significant others of the players, you presume. Part of you wants to go down there and be a part of the excitement. Luckily enough, a distraction comes in the form of some of your other neighbors before you’re forced to make any decisions.

“Hey, Yein, Sowon, Y/N!”

When you turn, you see Johnny and Doyoung approaching. Yein stiffens slightly and you nearly start laughing at your friend’s embarrassed behavior. Sowon greets them first. “Hi, guys.”

“I didn’t know you guys were into soccer?” Johnny asks, his eyes shifting easily from Sowon to you to Yein, where they remain.

“Not really! But Y/N wanted to go today.” In her nervousness, Yein easily exposes you.

“I wasn’t the only one who wanted to go,” you huff, crossing your arms. Doyoung and Johnny exchange a look that makes you want to change the subject. “I guess you guys are here to support some friends?”

“Yup, Yuta, Kun, and Jaehyun,” Doyoung says, looking towards the field, where some of their other friends are already gathered around the star player. “They played really well. It’ll be a good season.”

“I hope so,” Sowon says, also watching.

“Well, we don’t want to keep you guys from them,” you say, wanting to eject yourself from the conversation before it turns in a different direction. To your displeasure, Johnny is a master of knowing exactly what you don’t want and then doing it anyways. You’ve never really talked to him before, but it seems that he’s similar to Yuta in that way.

“Why don’t we all go say hi?” The tall boy says, grinning. “You guys can tell me how those cookies were, too.”

There is no escape. Now, as you follow them down the bleachers, you reflect Yein in a way. She no longer looks quite as nervous, eagerly chatting with Johnny, while you grow increasingly more fidgety. It’s not that you don’t want to talk to Yuta. You just don’t want to give in to whatever game the two of you silently decided you were playing.

Then again, it is much more fun to play along than it is to outright reject him. Plus, today’s actual game was good. You’ll give him that.

Trying to seem as nonchalant as possible, you join the small crowd surrounding Yuta. If you thought he glowed normally, he absolutely shines now. There’s something about him being in his element at the very top of his game that makes you forget your irritation with him for a moment. In that instant, he’s a star. In that instant, he reminds you of your brother. Then, he spots you and opens his mouth.

“Y/N!” As he calls out to you, the girl he was talking to before you arrived seems perturbed, but he ignores her, pushing his way closer to you. “You actually came.”

You turn your nose up at him slightly. “No one ever said it was for you.”

“Of course not. You and I both know the truth, though.” The wink is nowhere near subtle or sly and you scoff at him. He seems unbothered. “This was your first Lions game, right? Did you enjoy it?”

You nod hesitantly. “I heard you guys were good, but I didn’t know how good. You played a near perfect game.”

The self-satisfied smile drops from his face. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“What do you mean?” Tilting your head, you match his somewhat grim face.

“There’s always better plays to make, better places to have been. You know.” He quickly tries to play it off like he’s uninterested rather than deeply bothered. You’re not sure you know what the truth is. You haven’t talked to him nearly enough to know. This is the first hint of something serious that he’s shown you. It almost makes you want to talk to him more to find out.

“Dude, shut up, you’re good.” From the side, Johnny butts in, elbowing his friend. You’re glad for the interruption, as you once again didn’t know what to say. The mood raises, with some of Yuta’s friends reenacting the best parts of the game, joking about his long hair, betting on what next week’s game will look like. A few minutes later, the Lions’ coach shouts for all of the team members to go shower and get changed, so the crowd slowly disperses.

After you’re alone with your roommates, Sowon and Yein can’t help but give you playful shoves as you walk home. Sowon is the first to verbalize her amusement. “I thought you hated him?”

You grumble under your breath, not saying anything in particular.

“You played a near perfect game.” Yein mimics, making your face burn.

“I do not sound like that! Also, I know a good game when I see one and I know when to admit it!” You kick your shoe against the pavement as they giggle at you.

From then on, it seems like you run into Yuta far too often for your own good. Every few days, you bump into him when you’re either about to go run or when you’re coming back from running. When you go with Yein to return Johnny’s cookie container, Yuta is in his apartment, lounging on the sofa and chatting with Jungwoo, your third volleyball neighbor. Once, when you’re studying at the school library because you need a change of scenery from your apartment, he runs into you. That time, you snap at him.

“Are you stalking me or something?”

He places a hand over his heart, pretending to be offended. “What do you mean? If anything you’re the one stalking me. I come here every Thursday after practice to study.” He huffs. “If you’re talking about when I was in Johnny’s apartment, I was already there before you even arrived. Unless you’re accusing me of being psychic, too.”

Your shoulders slowly lower at the guilt you feel. Cringing slightly, you raise your hands in apology. “I didn’t mean to imply…” You sigh. “Sorry. Can I buy you a coffee or something to apologize?”

Only after Yuta’s mock hurt shifts to a triumphant look do you realize the implications of your words. You’re really on a roll with implications today. He grins. “If you really want to.”

As you pack up your things, Yuta tells the few teammates he had come to study with that he’s going, and you walk out of the library side by side. Luckily, he actually makes for easy conversation and good company. You don’t know why he insists on the flirting and cockiness in your shorter interactions. As you walk to the campus coffee shop, you learn that he’s a studio art major. He learns that you’re a physical therapy major. You learn that he’s taking a statistics class that you had already previously taken - he put it off while you got it done in your first year - and, without thinking, you offer to help him if he needs it. After you order both of your coffees, finding out that he likes a lighter roast, you sit at a table in the shop with him. Silence comes and goes as both of you do some of the studying that you intended to do at the library. Every so often, he asks you a question. Usually, you answer him. You always return with a question of your own. You find out that his favorite of the bands that he used to blast through the floor is One Ok Rock.

“Sorry,” he finally says, appearing genuinely remorseful with the sheepish look on his face, “I didn’t have upstairs neighbors last year. I didn’t know you could hear it through the floor.”

“It’s fine. Sorry I snapped at you back then.”

It’s very strange to be on perfectly good terms with Nakamoto Yuta.

A few days later, when your brother sends you a ticket for the local professional soccer team, the Ravens, you almost feel like you should ask for a second so you can bring Yuta. Figuring it would be too much to ask, you plan to go by yourself, thankful that the game falls on a day the Lions aren’t playing. Plus, you can’t imagine what your roommates would say if you chose to go out of your way to take him with you.

You’ve taken to hanging out with the long-haired center forward, helping him with his math when he needs it and just… generally enjoying his company. That doesn’t mean you’re all sugar and smiles to him - it’s much more fun to mess around a little, make him think that you don’t like him quite as much as you actually do. The only thing you can think of that would personally offend him would be to say you’re going to one of his games and then failing to do so.

On the bus ride over to the stadium where the Ravens are playing, you’re thankful that you don’t recognize anyone from your school. You’re in the team’s colors, silver and forest green, and it would be clear to anyone where you’re going. Only after you get off of the bus do you realize just how many came to watch. The stadium is full, packed to almost capacity. That’s probably why your brother hadn’t gotten you tickets earlier - all of them were taken. He probably gave tickets to the earlier games to your parents. They would have thrown a fit if he had only invited you earlier, even if you are his favorite.

As you make your way to your seat, you remark on how strange it is to see your last name printed on the backs of the shirts of a bunch of strangers. The vibe of the crowd is completely different from that at your school’s field. While college students are excitable and energetic, these spectators are rabid. At any moment, there’s one hundred people yelling, someone trying to start a chant, someone screaming just for the sake of it. The air is buzzing with the anticipation of the crowd.

There’s a moment of sudden thick silence, like the moment before a dam is about to burst, where the crowd is silent. Then, both teams are stepping out onto the field and the stadium explodes. In the middle of the line of the eleven Ravens players, like he’s trying to blend in even though half of the crowd is chanting his name, is your brother. There’s a coin flip and it’s decided that the Ravens will start. He gets into his position, forward center, and the audience takes another breath.

You’re on the edge of your seat. Half of the game you’re standing. There’s a thrill about the experience that makes you so invigorated and proud beyond belief. If it had been strange seeing your last name on the backs of fans’ jerseys, it’s just as weird hearing the announcer say your brother’s name as he scores. If Yuta had been residual starshine, your brother is a shot of pure gold. He has long given up trying to make himself small where he glows the brightest, smiling as the whistle is blown for halftime. His teammates slap each other on the back when they go for water. Just as the game is about to resume, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket once. You figure that whoever is texting you can wait.

The other team makes a comeback in the second half, scoring on the Ravens and tying the score. You feel a bit bad for the goalie, a guy you know as Kim Yongsuk, who your brother had introduced you to in the past. He’s probably beating himself up over it. Still, the team doesn’t falter, doesn’t repeat their mistakes. It’s a hard game - from how close you are, you can almost see everyone breathing hard. Finally, with just a few minutes left to spare, the ball travels smoothly from the Ravens’ defensive line, to the midfielders, to the offense. Once it’s in your brother’s possession, it’s over. He shoots and he scores.

To be fair to the other team, they try to recover, but it’s just not enough. Time is called and it ends 2:1. The Ravens have won. You find yourself clapping and cheering with the other fans, shouting your elation to the huge stadium. As things begin to wind down and the teams shake hands, people begin to trickle out of the stadium. A satisfied hum is in the air, leaving a smile on your face, too. Perhaps soccer games are the reason you like parties, too. The warm, excited atmosphere, the noise, forgetting about the outside world to become absorbed in something else.

Finally, reality calls again after all of the players filter out to their respective locker rooms. You pull out your phone, about to send a text to your brother. However, when your phone comes to life, the first thing you see is a text from Yuta.

NaYu: Are you at the Ravens game??

An instant later, right on cue, you hear his voice. “Y/N!” Upon looking up, he’s bounding down the aisles towards you, also donning forest green and silver. Watching him weave through the rest of the people trying to leave, you wouldn’t be surprised if he would have slid down the railing if there weren’t other people there. Nonetheless, it doesn’t take long for him to reach you. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Why not?” You tilt your head, smiling slightly. You’re in too good of a mood to outright lie to him.

He blinks. “I thought you hated watching soccer.”

You hold your hands behind your back, swaying playfully. For once, he’s the confused one. “I don’t know what gave you that impression. I really enjoy seeing the Ravens play.”

“But… you said…” He furrows his eyebrows. “Didn’t you say you’ve seen enough soccer games to last your whole life already, or something?” “I changed my mind.” Your phone buzzes in your hand.

B/N: You still in the stands? I’m coming up.

At that, you freeze. Yuta nudges you. “You okay?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine.” You’ve kept the fact that your brother is the Ravens’ star striker away from everyone, besides your roommates, and you can’t even begin to imagine how Yuta would react if he found how. What would he think of you? “You can head out without me, Yuta. I’m waiting for someone.” The concerned expression doesn’t leave his face. “Are you sure? It’s kind of late-”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine, I’m-”

“Y/N!”

You turn just in time to see your brother jumping the gate blocking off the entrance to the field from the stands. Most of the stadium has cleared out by now, ushered out by staff, leaving very few people. Your brother has a hoodie on with his team’s colors, the hood up and partially blocking his face from distant onlookers nonetheless. You cringe internally as he jogs up to you, not seeming tired at all, and you greet him as he engulfs you in a warm hug. “Hi, B/N.”

“I’m glad you could make it. It’s not often that I get to play for my favorite sibling.” You’re looking at your brother, but you’re sure that Yuta has a shocked look on his face as he connects the dots. Now that your brother has directly stated who he is to you, there’s no avoiding it. He looks past you and realizes that you’re not alone. “Who’s this?”

“I…” Now that you’re actually looking at Yuta, you realize he’s entirely starstruck. He looks like he’s stuck in one place, his eyes wider than normal and full of awe.

You take over for him. “This is Yuta. He’s my friend from school and our team’s center forward.”

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m B/N! Since Y/N finally decided to show her face at her own team’s games, I heard you guys are doing well this year. Go Lions!” He raises a fist, giving Yuta a sunny smile.

Yuta blinks hard, looking almost like he might pass out. “Y-yeah. We’re doing alright, I guess. Thank you for your support.” He reflexively dips into a shallow bow, making your brother chuckle.

“You don’t have to be so formal. Any friend of Y/N’s is a friend of mine.” He elbows you not-so-gently. “Y/N! Tell me next time you want to bring him. I’ll throw in a second ticket.”

Yuta unfreezes a bit and looks at you. “You don’t bring Yein or Sowon?”

You shrug. “I don’t like to bring only one of them. It feels unfair to the other.”

“Still, I’m glad to see that you’re not lying about having at least one friend.” Your brother gives you a wicked grin and heat fills your cheeks.

“I have friends!” You insist, clenching your fists at your side.

“Do you?” Yuta teases, making you press your lips together in a look of indignation.

Before you can counter him, your brother interjects. “I hate to part with the two of you, but I have to leave.” He steps back, waving a hand at the two of you. “See you!” “I hope you stub your toe on the way out!” You shout back at him as he retreats.

“Hey, this toe is worth a lot of money! Love you, too!”

There’s a period of silence as you watch your brother disappear. Yuta clears his throat. “Do you want to go back?”

“Yeah.” You follow him wordlessly for a while, making your way out of the stadium. He walks by your side, his hands in his pockets. He doesn’t seem upset, just a bit shocked still. As you approach the bus stop, you finally speak up. “Did you come with anyone else?”

“Some of the guys from the team. I told them to go ahead without me so I could talk to you.” Of all the things he’s ever said, that makes your heart feel strange. A tiny flutter of a butterfly’s wings, if you will.

Then, as you make it to the bus shelter, you turn to him, grabbing onto the edge of his sleeve. “Yuta, promise you won’t be weird after this?”

He blinks, not fighting your grip. “Why would I be weird?”

“Just… I don’t really tell people about my brother. I don’t want you to think any differently about me because of it.” This level of vulnerability isn’t something you usually show and it feels foreign, unfamiliar. When you told Sowon and Yein about it, it didn’t feel this way. Yet, standing under the shelter with Yuta, his deep green sleeve in your hand, his eyes on yours, the light of the city falling faintly on your faces, you feel your heart pound even harder in your chest.

“I already liked you before I ever knew that.” He reaches up oh so slowly. You don’t know what he’s going to do. Touch your cheek, pat your head, kiss you? Before you can find out, the bus pulls up with a loud exhale, spewing exhaust. The doors open and the driver looks at you expectantly as you turn and get in. Yuta follows you, silent. Both of you pay your dues and sit down, side by side, his sleeve brushing yours.

You know exactly what it is about him that drives you insane. At the same time, you have no idea. While you don’t want things to be different with him after tonight, you also desperately wish for the opposite. You’re tempted to slap yourself in the face to try and wake yourself up from whatever strange dream you’re happening, but you don’t know how the boy next to you would react.

The ride passes excruciatingly slowly, as does the short walk back to your complex. Finally, as you’re standing in the stairwell, about to part ways with him, he speaks. “Do you want to study together tomorrow?”

At that, such a normal suggestion, you smile. “Sure.”

He reflects your expression. It’s a familiar look on him, which you’re grateful for. “I’ll text you. Goodnight, Y/N.”

The next day is entirely ordinary. It’s like the previous night never happened. Yuta is perfectly normal, perfectly flirty, perfectly infuriating. In fact, the entire week after is normal. You go to the Lions game, cheer on your neighbors, and pretend to be difficult with Yuta after the game. He’s always so hard on himself after his games, remarking on what he believes are the many things he could have done differently to play a better game, despite scoring all of the team’s goals and securing wins every time. You hope that you talking to him afterwards raises his spirits just as much as you enjoy it.

Then, one Saturday, you’re out running when Yuta jogs up to you. Once again, he scares the shit out of you, making you nearly trip. “Hey, Y/N.”

You tear out your headphones, giving him a look. “Have you tried not jumpscaring me?”

The shrug he gives you looks strange, as he’s jogging slowly next to you when he attempts to emote. “It’s kind of funny.” You grumble under breath about showing him what’s funny, and he continues. “Do you want to run together on the weekends?”

“This again?” You say, frowning.

He rolls his eyes. “Listen, I know you’re lonely. Since you come out to my games, I thought I should do you some sort of favor in return.”

“I also help you with your statistics homework.”

“Anyways, you’re in luck because I also don’t have a running partner. It’s a lot easier to set a pace and keep moving if you have someone with you.”

You know he’s right, but it doesn’t make you feel any better. When you’re running, you’re at your most vulnerable - sweaty, tired, out of your element. There’s plenty of reasons you shouldn’t want him to run with you. “You have to run so much faster than I do. I would just slow you down.”

“Not really,” he says, looking at your feet as you jog next to him, “see? We’re both doing fine right now.”

You realize that he’s right. You keep moving wordlessly for a minute, until you speak quietly. “Would you really not mind?”

You focus on his hair bouncing as he takes each step for a while before you look at his face. In the morning sunlight, he gives you a pure smile. “Not at all.”

On Saturdays and Sundays, he’s waiting for you just outside of the complex at seven in the morning with his hair tied up to keep it out of his eyes. He easily matches his pace to yours. He’s always much more awake at that hour than you are, but the quiet encouragement he whispers whenever you slow down help perk you up. It takes you a little while to realize that he’s doing something very similar for you to what you do for him after his games.

It’s a cloudy Sunday morning. Usually, you don’t talk a ton while you’re running together, but it seems that his curiosity has gotten the best of him. “What made you want to start running?”

“Hm?” You hum, snapped out of the world that was just your feet thudding against the ground and the sound of your breathing in your ears. “Do I have to have a reason?”

“People usually don’t just randomly start doing it. Maybe they want to get stronger or lose weight. Maybe they want to impress someone.”

“It’s not about impressing anyone. I’m doing this for me.” You say it firmly, confidently. His pace stutters and he watches you continue forward. There’s something in your voice that makes him incapable of moving, and all he can do is stare at you for a moment, his heart speeding up in his chest for reasons other than the running you’re doing. When you realize he isn’t following, you turn towards him, jogging in place. The way your face is illuminated by the sunlight being cast upon it makes him sure he’s never met someone as incredible as you before in his life. “Are you coming?”

You don’t know what’s up with him. His expression is something you’ve never seen but can’t quite place. He catches up in a few bounds and you resume your run.

The next Friday, you receive a strange text.

Unknown Number: Hey, is this Y/N?

You contemplate whether or not you should respond, but you get a second text.

Unknown Number: This is Mingyu from physics

Now, that’s strange. You start to type out a reply.

Y/N: Hi! What’s up?

Kim Mingyu: I was wondering if you could help me with the lab report from last Friday? I’m having some trouble

Y/N: Sure, do you want to meet in the library later?

Meeting up with someone who you’ve never really talked to before is strange. Mingyu tries to joke with you, but something about them falls flat. You try your best to laugh and help him anyways, figuring it’s just stiffness from interacting with someone new. Though it’s nice to finally have a physics buddy, you’re almost relieved when you go home.

As you approach your complex, you see a small group formed on the lawn outside. Sicheng and Ten are standing on one leg, holding the other leg up and trying to knock each other down. A small smile comes to your face when you realize that Yuta is in the group, cheering for his friends. Around the same time you see him, he sees you and his eyes light up. He’s quickly getting to his feet and bounding towards you. Taeyong calls after him with a frown. “Yuta, you’re next!”

Still, he sidles up next to you as you walk closer to the circle. “Y/N! Where are you coming from?”

“Just the library. Actually, I was meeting up with one of your teammates, Mingyu. We were working on physics.”

The smile he wears twitches downwards for a moment. “I didn’t know you had a class with him.”

“It wasn’t worth mentioning. I never talked to him before today.” You shrug, shifting the backpack on your shoulders. “What are you guys doing?”

“One-legged fight. You should join.” He suddenly has a sadistic gleam in his eye and you take a tiny step away from him.

“And give you an excuse to push me on the ground? No thanks.”

“Aw, Y/N, I’m hurt. You don’t think I would just push you if I really wanted to?” At his proclamation, you shake your head, trying to force down a smile but failing miserably. “I’m kidding, of course. I would never.”

It’s almost sunset and he looks glorious in the golden light, the sun reflecting off of his dark hair and making his eyelashes cast long shadows on his cheekbones. If you were bolder, you might say something about it. Instead, you let out a snort of laughter, looking away from him. From the circle a few yards away, cheers erupt. Ten is curled on the ground, dramatically bemoaning his loss to Sicheng, who stands proudly over him. Taking that as his cue, Yuta gives you a small wave and rejoins his group.

When you enter your apartment with a small, content smile on your face, Yein looks up from her cooking. “Good day?”

“You could say that.”

The next morning, thankfully, is a Saturday. Yuta is waiting for you, looking just as fine in the morning sun as he did in the evening rays. He’s stretching as you approach him. “It looks like it’ll be good weather for the match today.”

“It better be.” He says it lightheartedly, but you can really imagine him threatening the weather. He’s told you that he hates the rain, partly because it makes it unpleasant to play but also just because it dampens his mood. The team is lucky they’ve gotten good weather for the season so far.

As you’re running, you remember what something you needed to ask Yuta about. “Hey, are you free on Wednesday night? My brother offered me two tickets for his game.”

His eyes light up. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah?” You tilt your head, trying to keep your pace steady. “He said he would pull through, so he did. You made a good impression on him.”

“I am totally free. Completely. Did I tell you how free I am that day?” The child-like excitement in his voice makes you smile in return.

“Wow, with how not free you are, I guess I should invite someone else,” you tease and he lets out an uncharacteristic whine.

“Y/N, I know you’re messing with me, but if you take someone else after asking me, I will never forgive you.”

Now it’s your turn to pretend to be offended. “I see how much our friendship means to you, Mr. Nakamoto.”

He sighs dramatically, bringing a hand to his forehead as he acts like he’s going to faint. “You’re so serious.”

You stick out your tongue at him. “You’re such a fanboy.”

“I can’t help it. Your brother is just so cool. I don’t know how you don’t try to hang out with him literally all the time.”

That gives you pause. You feel your feet connect with the earth repeatedly for a minute, thinking about your brother and your complicated but not complicated relationship. You trust Yuta with so many things, so you may as well tell him. “A few weeks ago, when I said I was only doing this for me, I lied. Just a little.” You say, not looking at him. You’ve never really admitted it out loud before. “I want to get good enough to run with my brother. I almost never see him these days, but if I can start getting up to run with him sometimes… it’ll be like when we were kids. Or something. I don’t know.”

“He’s important enough to you that you want to change something about your life to spend more time with him,” Yuta says quietly, keeping pace with you. “I hope he knows how much you care about him.”

“You don’t always need to change to show you love someone. That’s why it was only partly a lie when I said I’m only doing this for myself.” You flash Yuta a smile, which he returns. Though your lungs burn and your legs ache, the air you breathe in is cool and fresh. “I’ll race you back.”

His eyes flash. “Challenge accepted.”

The next time you see Yuta is later that day, at his game. He’s serious, as usual, in the zone. As the season goes on, the bleachers fill up more and more with students eager to see the Lions throw sparks. The games continually get harder, but they manage to clutch this one out with a final score of 3:2.

Despite the win, Yuta still seems somewhat down. Afterwards, you’re about to go up to him to describe the glorious moment when he slid between two of the opponent defenders and scored, but you’re stopped by a heavy hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, Y/N.” To your surprise, Mingyu is the one approaching you. He doesn’t take his hand away.

“Oh! Mingyu, hi.” You try to smile at him, but your eyes wander over to Yuta briefly. “Good game today! You guys played solidly.”

“Ha, thanks. Could’ve been better on my part, I’m always looking to improve, you know.”

“I get it,” you respond, nodding.

“Are you possibly free on Wednesday night? We have a lab due on Friday and I just think it would be easier to do if we can work together, ya know?”

“Oh, um, I’m actually busy then.” You force yourself to not look at Yuta. “Does Thursday night work instead?”

“Sure, whatever. I’ll see you then.” The way he squeezes your shoulder once before stepping away to talk to some of his own friends makes your stomach turn. Why is he being so… weird?

Shaking your head, you turn back to who you had intended to greet in the first place, only to find that he had been looking at you already. What’s with the look in his eyes? Why is everyone being so weird? Ignoring the feeling, you join his circle. Yuta moves closer to your side, his arm looping around your waist as he does so, pulling you in slightly. The touch is brief but intimate, sending a bolt of electricity through your body. You swear that you can almost feel the heat of his skin through your clothes. Then, his arm is back at his side like nothing happened. You want to speak up, say what you were planning on saying before, get your mind back on a normal track, but you find that Johnny, Ten, and Jungwoo are already recreating the scene, making Yuta smile through the veil of whatever emotions he’s experiencing right now.

When the entire team heads over to the locker rooms to clean off the shine of sweat and dirt that had been accumulated through the game, you can’t help watching him. As he goes, you catch flashes of his smile while he congratulates his teammates. Something stirs in your heart.

That night, you dream of healing smiles dressed in a lion’s mane of black hair. That same visage is waiting for you the next morning when you go out to run but, here outside of your head, he’s solid, real, more than heated touches and soft caresses. At the same time, he is those things. Or, so you wish him to be.

When you study with him the next night, he is as he usually is, theoretically. Sometimes it feels like his eyes linger longer than usual, his hand rests a little closer, he smiles a little wider. It’s nothing you can confirm because, to any normal gaze, he seems entirely the same. Perhaps you’re confusing yourself into imagining things. Has his flirtatious nature finally tricked your brain into thinking he likes you?

Sometime that evening, you go to the bathroom and stare at yourself in the mirror. You pat your face rather harshly to try and drive some sense back into your brain. You should tell him. This new boy who has become so close to you. Why are you afraid of it going wrong? You emerge from the bathroom with the same feelings that you entered it with and, there he is, looking up at your return.

The next day, Tuesday is a brief reprieve from the torture of trying to figure out his feelings through his actions. Then, your brother’s game comes. Your chatter fills the space between you on the bus ride to the stadium, him telling you about the anime he’s watching, you talking about the drama you’re watching in response. He jokes about culturing you by getting you to watch a show with him.

Watching your brother’s game with Yuta at your side is an entirely different experience. While you think you normally have pretty good commentary on your own, he provides an extra edge, excitedly explaining why some players choose to do some things or making observations about small moves that you ordinarily wouldn’t notice. Both of you absorb the atmosphere of the stadium, bursting into cheers whenever something incredible happens, screaming extra loud when your brother scores.

During halftime, when the roar of the audience is less deafening, you realize that you’ve never asked Yuta about his background with soccer before. You nudge him. “Hey, Yuta? How long have you been playing?”

He taps his chin, trying to think back. “Probably since I was five?”

“No wonder you know so much,” you say, “I’m talking to an expert right now.”

“You know too much for just a casual viewer,” he says back, snorting, “don’t tell me you don’t have some experience.”

“I only played a bit when I was younger, but I wasn’t any good. It was always more fun to watch B/N. I ended up just taking care of him whenever he pulled something or fell and scraped his arm… you know.” A wistful smile forms on your face. “It started off as just kissing bruises like my mom would, but then it turned into intense Googling whenever I couldn’t immediately figure out what was wrong with him.”

“Maybe you can kiss my boo-boos whenever I get hurt, too, then.” He’s smirking, the ever-familiar gleam of mischief in his gaze.

You force yourself to roll your eyes at him, ignoring the feeling of your heart jumping in your chest. “You’d better not get hurt, Nakamoto.”

“Only because you asked so nicely.”

A few minutes later, the game resumes. This matchup is considerably more difficult than the game you had attended before. Each time the Ravens seem like they’re close to scoring, the opponent defense sends it back towards your end of the field or the goalie successfully blocks it. All the same, your defense and goalie do their jobs, too, leading to a brutal back and forth. By the time the game is over, the only goal that had been scored was the single one your brother got in the first half.

“Ah, that was tense. They almost took it back there for a second.” You stand, stretching your arms behind your back to loosen them up a bit. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, sure.” Yuta gets up as well, following you as you begin to climb the stairs. “Is your brother not coming to see you this time?”

“He told me he has some press deal after this.” Once you’re in a more open area, Yuta walks next to you instead of behind. You can now see that he’s frowning.

“Does he keep you a secret on purpose?”

“I asked him to.”

“I can’t imagine keeping someone like you hidden like that.” At that strange comment, you stop, looking at him. He seems to be taking the issue very personally.

“It’s easier this way. No one prying into my life, no one asking me for autographs from him all the time. People know who our parents are. What’s so important about an unknown sister?” Is there something else he wants you to say? The look on his face is something you’ve only seen maybe once or twice. He’s in a strange mood, that’s for sure.

“I get it, it’s just…” He sighs, looking at the ground with his hands shoved in his pockets.

“Yuta.” He finally meets your eyes. “It’s important to me that what people think about me is what I show them first. I don’t want to be a reflection of my brother, no matter how much I love him.”

“Is he the reason you didn’t want to talk to me at first?” There’s amusement in Yuta’s voice again, that strange seriousness gone.

You start to walk again and he keeps pace. “No, that was just because you woke me up at six in the morning.”

“I guess both of us have experiences that precede our reputations then, huh?”

The bus comes not much later. The previous reminder of how you met has him offering you one side of his earbuds, saying that this would be a better introduction to J-rock than the one you had before. As you listen, you’re tempted to lean your head against his shoulder or take his hand, which is resting oh so close to yours. Instead, you just sit still and look out the window.

After you get off of the bus, the topic of shows you both like makes a return.

“I will take it upon myself to expose you to great art. Are you free tomorrow? We have to start immediately.” Yuta begins to pester you, practically bouncing as you walk.

“Actually, I’m busy tomorrow. I’m working on physics with Mingyu again.” He doesn’t initially not react to your first statement. However, when his teammate’s name comes out of your mouth, he frowns.

“Of anyone…” The sudden change in his attitude catches you off guard. “Why him?”

“I don’t choose who’s in my classes. What’s wrong with you? I thought you got along with your teammates.” You’re nearing your complex at this point. The lamp posts bordering the sidewalk cast long shadows on the ground as you walk.

“In a team context, they’re fine. Usually. Just, that guy…” He’s scowling now, making you frown deeply in return.

“What about him?”

“I don’t know, Y/N.” He pauses, but then his feet stop moving a moment later. “Fuck it, I do know. He’s not a good person. He’s a manipulator. He’s a good manipulator, but he’s bad at lying when you actually confront him-”

“Yuta, you’re being ridiculous. Even if he is, I’m strong enough to take care of myself.”

“Y/N, he was with me at that first game! The one where I found out about your brother? What if he saw? He’s the type to use information like that to get what he wants. What if he-”

“What if he what, Yuta?” You glare at him, anger muddled with some other hurt now filling you. “He hasn’t done anything. He isn’t going to do anything. Our ‘secret’ isn’t going to get out. I can take care of myself.”

With that, you brush past him, into the complex, into your apartment. Thankfully, your roommates aren’t in the common area, so you safely make it to your room. Once you’re there, you shove your face into your pillow. You consider screaming into it, but you know he’s probably in his own room, where he could hear you. Instead, you just heave breath after frustrated breath.

You don’t know why you snapped at him. Actually, you do. It’s the fear that he’s actually doing what he accused Mingyu of. After every word you’ve exchanged, every conversation, you should be confident that he’s not like that. But, you’ve never been in this situation before. What if he…

It’s a stupid notion and you know it. That’s just the surface. Another layer of your feelings peels away. You hate when people are too protective of you. You want to make your own decisions, to learn for yourself. You hate when your brother is too protective of you and you hate when Yuta is.

That’s not even all of it. Finally, you reach the root of your aggression. What right does Nakamoto Yuta have to try and be protective of you when you aren’t even together? Was that the concern of a friend or the concern of a jealous lover?

You curl in on yourself even more tightly, breathing through the pillow under your face. No one has ever flirted with you as much as he has. You’ve never been so ridiculously on and off with someone before. Still, neither of you are willing to answer the question. You’ve never actually fought like this with him before.

Perhaps he hates you now that you’ve thrown his warnings back in his face.

The next day, after your classes, you force yourself to go to the library to meet Mingyu, Yuta’s words heavy in your mind. As you work, you can tell he’s still trying desperately to get on your good side, even emanating Yuta in a strange, off-balance way. It’s not amusing when he does it.

Finally, the subject you’ve been dreading comes.

“Are you a fan of the Ravens? I think I saw you at one of their games once.”

You swallow back disappointment. Mingyu is the worst fear of your insecure self and you finally have to come face to face with it. “I guess you could say that.”

To your surprise, he doesn’t take it farther than that. If Yuta’s right about him, then it’s probably just one piece of a larger goal. Though you never cared much for Mingyu, it doesn’t feel good to see things begin to unfold.

Not seeing him for two days in a row brings your mood down more than you’d like to admit. At the same time, you’re not ready to apologize yet. You don’t know what exactly is happening on his end, you never know, so when you go outside to run at your normal time on Saturday, you half expect him to be there.

He isn’t. And you don’t run into him on your way back, either. The game it is, then.

As the day progresses, the sky gets increasingly cloudy. In the evening, when the Lions and their opponent team are out on the field running final drills, it’s easy enough to tell that a good number of people had looked at the forecast - the crowd in the bleachers is much thinner than usual. The sky could open up and pour its soul out onto all of you at any moment.

You don’t even bother pretending that you’re not watching Yuta. As he steps off the field for their usual pre-game pep talk and chant, you swear he makes eye contact with you. Normally, he wouldn’t even bother looking, because he’s usually confident that you’re there. You’re not sure what the look in his eyes is now.

The coin toss decides that the other team will start with the ball. That might have been the first omen about the game. Then again, maybe the other team is just… better. Their defense is at least tighter than yours. At halftime, they have a point up on the Lions, 0:1. Yuta seems to take this very, very personally. Within ten minutes of the game restarting, they tie the score back up.

At about three quarters of the way through, it begins to rain. The referee deems that they’ve played far to stop, so the match continues. Almost like they take the poor weather as a sign, the rival team scores nearly immediately after.

You pathetically huddle under a single umbrella with Sowon while Yein shares one with Johnny. The ball slips rather than flies around the field, back and forth, back and forth, until, finally, with barely any time to spare, it’s at Yuta’s feet. The world seems to move in slow motion, then. His right foot moves backwards. It swings forwards. He makes contact.

He misses.

You try not to gasp. Yuta himself seems to be in shock, with how he goes stiff for a moment. Then, he’s back in action, targeting where the goalie had thrown the ball. This time, it’s not enough. A minute later, after another brutal back and forth, the scream of the whistle soars above the sound of the rain. It’s over. The Lions have met their first loss of the season.

The two teams barely wait around to shake hands before they’re rushing off to the locker rooms, away from the rain. Yuta moves slower than the rest, seeming to drag his feet through the muddying grass. Ahead of him, all of his teammates are moving quickly, but moping nonetheless. From your position, you see Mingyu kick the shins of someone you recognize to be one of the younger players. You see Kun’s mouth move as he tells him off, but they’re far enough away and the rain is loud enough that you can’t hear. If you hadn’t been displeased already, you are now.

Might as well kill two birds with one stone, right?

“You guys can go back,” you say, taking a step out from under the umbrella after you’re out of the bleachers with your friends. When Sowon tries to shove her umbrella in your hands, you push it back. “I’ll be fine! It’s only a short distance.”

She narrows her eyes. “You’re going to catch a cold.”

“Don’t worry.” With a sigh, she turns, reluctantly walking back behind Yein and Johnny.

You take off running, trying to outpace the raindrops pelting you. By the time you make it beneath the slight sheltered roof of the locker room building, you’re damp, but not entirely soaked. It’s enough to be an annoyance, your clothes sticking slightly to your skin.

You wait outside for a good few minutes. Small groups of players from either team leave, the opponent players giving you strange looks as you lean against the wall and shiver, Baekho and his group giving you an awkward acknowledgement, and, finally, Mingyu emerges.

“Y/N?” He seems confused, but somewhat excited. As if you’re there to meet him.

“Mingyu. Answer one question for me.” You say it wearily, expressing it like the chore it is.

“What are you acting so weird for?” The excitement you glimpsed before dies.

“Were you going to use me to get in good with my brother?”

The rain is the only sound you hear for a couple solid heartbeats. “Y/N, listen…”

“He was right…” You grumble to yourself. You glare up at him. “You can do your physics labs by yourself. Delete my number.”

He stands before you for a moment more before he realizes that you’re serious. He turns and walks away, into the haze of the downpour. A minute later, Jaehyun and Kun emerge from the building.

“Oh, Y/N,” Jaehyun says, seeming surprised. “Are you waiting for Yuta?”

“Is it that obvious?”

The two of them exchange looks and smile. Kun speaks next. “He’s probably not coming out for a while. He usually gets all depressed when we lose a game, but I’ve never seen it this bad. He’s been standing in the shower for like fifteen minutes.”

You glance at the door. Jaehyun nudges you. “He’s the only one left in there. I wouldn’t tell anyone if you, say, went in right now.”

“A bonafide cupid right here,” Kun says, swinging the bag he has slung over his shoulder around so he can dig through it. He produces something, offering it to you. “Here.”

“What is…” You trail off as you take it from him, your face warming as you realize exactly what it is. “Kun, what is this?!”

“I don’t want any miniature versions of him running around. I’m always prepared.” You stare at Kun incredulously a beat longer before you shove the condom in your damp pocket.

“Good luck!” Jaehyun calls back to you as they begin to walk off, leaving you standing under the overhang. Taking a deep breath, you push open the door and walk inside.

Unsurprisingly, the place has a somewhat sweaty smell to it. The rows of lockers are labeled with names and a little image depicting the sport the owner plays, as all of the school’s teams use the same locker room, and the occasional miscellaneous socks, gloves, and other things are scattered about. A row of sinks is against one wall and past the sinks is an entrance into the shower area. You make your way there.

As you get closer, the distinct sound of one shower running gets louder. The only curtain that’s closed is a middle stall, all of the others open and empty. Parallel to the shower stalls is a long wooden bench. “Yuta?” You call out. He doesn’t respond, so you try again. “Yuta?”

“Go away.” This time, the response is sharp and harsh. He certainly is in a mood.

“Yuta, it’s me.”

“Y/N?” His voice is significantly less negative now. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to you.”

You can barely hear him sigh over the sound of the shower running. “You couldn’t wait until after I was done?”

“No.” When you say that, the water shuts off. A hand sneaks out to grab the towel hanging from a hook affixed to the partition between the stalls. You don’t see anything revealing, but you look away anyways. The scraping of the rings being drawn back tells you he has emerged from the stall.

“You can look at me, you know.”

“I didn’t want to be rude.” You look back, greeted with the sight of his gloriously wet hair and bare torso. He emerged quickly enough that he didn’t have time to dry much of the water dripping off of him. The only part of his body that’s covered is his waist and thighs, though the towel still reveals a tantalizing v-line. You forcibly swallow your thirst.

“Blatantly checking me out again? I get it, but would it kill you to be less obvious?” The comment throws you back to a simpler time, when you were just irritated with him for his cockiness and blasting music through the floor.

“Speak for yourself.” You cross your arms. It was obvious enough that he was enjoying the sight of you in a wet t-shirt and shorts.

“Why didn’t you wear something warmer?” He says, frowning. He steps closer, leaving little space between you.

“I didn’t think it would cool down this much.” You look away, not able to face his bare chest quite yet. The room still has a certain steam about it from the hot shower he was taking that makes it a little harder to breathe. Then again, maybe that’s just him being mostly naked in front of you. He reaches out, touching the hem of your shirt.

“You’re soaked,” he says, rubbing your shirt between his thumb and index finger.

“You’re just making me wetter.” Your face burns something fierce as you say it, contrasting the chill that had settled over your skin from standing outside. “You would think you’d dry yourself off more before getting out of the shower.”

“I was just eager to see you, I guess.” You finally have the courage to meet his eyes again.

“I missed you this morning.” You almost pout while saying it, feeling small under his gaze. It’s not an uncomfortable smallness, but one that makes you feel closer to him.

“I figured you didn’t want to see me.” He reaches out, brushing his fingers softly over the side of your face. His touch is blissfully warm. “Or, I think that you did want to see me, but you would only be angrier if I showed up.”

The thought almost makes you laugh. It would be one of the few times he’s been wrong about your feelings. But, if he always knows so much… “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. I talked to Mingyu a few minutes ago and you were right. I should have trusted you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t let you handle it on your own.” He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead. “You’re strong enough to deal with assholes like him. You don’t need me.”

“I might not need you, but I do want to keep you around.” The small confession has your bottom lip quivering. “Did I mess up your game today?”

“It was mostly the rain.” He sounds so nonchalant, but you can tell he’s still bothered. “Not you. But, if you do feel bad about it, Miss Physical Therapy, there is something you can do for me.”

His eyes have shifted away from their darkness into a different sort of moodiness. You step closer. “What is it?”

He moves back, taking a heavy seat on the bench. “I’m quite tense. Give me a massage.” His eyes bore into yours. “If you so choose.”

You step behind him. The thrill of what you feel like he’s implying thrums in your veins. The muscles of his shoulders and back are hard under your fingers, showing years of training and toning. You’re almost surprised at how well built his upper body is for a soccer player. His skin is beyond perfect too, and the little droplets of water from his steamy shower that settle on his skin glisten temptingly in the low light of the locker room.

“Sorry my hands are cold,” you practically whisper.

“It’s fine. Feels nice.” He wasn’t lying when he said he was tense - you can feel the knots leaving his muscles as you press down on them, dissolving into smooth flesh that’s soft to the touch. As you work along his back, one particularly tough knot has your thumbs pressing harder into him, drawing a low groan and a curse from his throat. “Fuck.”

The sound turns you on more than you’d like to admit. As you finish his back, you become even more hyper aware of the little noises he’s letting out, the space between you becoming noticeably warmer. Slowly, reluctantly, your hands leave his skin and you circle back towards his front, not quite wanting to look him in the eye. “Is that better?”

“Much.” The air feels heavy. “But you’re not done, yet.” Ordinarily, he’d be smirking so hard you’d be able to hear it in his voice, but there’s only a low command to his tone now. He reaches out, guiding your dominant hand forward so that it’s resting on the front of his shoulder. There’s no hiding from his eyes now. You decide then - if you’re going to do this, you might as well go all out. Sliding onto his lap, your knees pressing into the wooden bench on either side of him, makes you feel both powerful and small at the same time. His face is only a breath away from your own. You swear you can see his eyes flicker to your lips. Trying to play innocent, despite the fact that you can basically feel his dick hardening under his thin towel, you shift slightly, putting your focus on his shoulder and pectoral muscles. Every so often, you readjust yourself, purposefully bouncing slightly on his lap, almost grinding down on him. He doesn’t crack, remaining still and keeping his expression flat. The only signs he gives of being aroused are the slight shiver to his breath and the prominent bulge you’re now certain you can feel. That, and the hands he has on your body, one on your hip and one on your thigh, fixing you in place.

The process is slow, arduous, but you eventually finish with his pectoral and shoulder muscles. You pull your hands away, placing them in your lap and then sitting back, unmoving on his lap, reveling in the way you’ve very clearly made him feel. “Is that all?”

His eyes flicker down to your lips again before boring into your own. “You missed one spot.” Wordlessly, he reaches up, tapping his own lips.

You could walk away right now. His hands aren’t so tight on your body that you couldn’t just get up and leave, go back to your apartment and forget this ever happened. But why would you want to? You’ve been dreaming of his lips for weeks. Finally, you’re about to get a taste. Still, there’s an edge of apprehension digging slightly in your gut.

You’ve sat in silence for long enough that he’s opening his mouth, an apology about to leave his lips, when you swoop forward, pressing your lips to his.

Where he had given you the choice to initiate, he’s the one who really leads. He almost instantly deepens the kiss, dragging you even farther up his lap, pressing you hard against his barely-shielded dick. You feel his fingertips against your skin, under the hem of your top.

“Do you want this?”

“Yes, but-” Where his hands had stilled under your shirt they begin to move again. “Yuta, wait.” He freezes once more, looking up at you. If you didn’t know better, you could swear you see a little bit of fear in his eyes. A shaky breath leaves your lips. “I won’t fuck you unless you tell me you actually have feelings for me. Did you mean what you said back then? After the games?”

“Is that a requirement for all the guys you sleep with or am I special?” You can feel his cock throbbing under you and your own insides ache in response. Of course, he’s delaying what both of you want by being coy. The frustration building up in your gut and in your heart makes you feel like you’re going insane.

“Yuta…” You mean it to sound admonishing, but your tone is more akin to a whine as you lightly drag your nails down his chest. His breath stutters slightly in his lungs at the motion, but in that moment, a sort of gentleness you’ve rarely seen takes over his facade.

“You’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met,” he breathes out, eyes locked with yours, “how could I not have feelings for you?”

You kiss him, sweetly, desperately. His hands begin to move once more, his fingertips digging ever so slightly into your skin. When his hands make it to the edge of your shirt, giving you a suggestion, you cover them with your own, guiding him to take it off. As soon as the garment is out of the way, his lips are on your neck, your collar, the soft skin of your chest. He can feel the hum of your voice through your breast as you speak. “I really like you, Yuta. More than I’ve ever liked anyone else.”

His fingers nimbly unclasp your bra and it falls to the ground somewhere. As his touch ghosts over your breasts, you arch into his hand, drawing a warm chuckle from him. “That’s good,” he says, thumbing slow circles over your nipples, “because I feel the same way about you.”

You pull him back to your mouth, pulling him as close as you possibly can, breathing him like he’s air, tasting him like he’s food. His tongue is slick against your bottom lip, against your own tongue. Almost unconsciously, you rock your hips against his bulge as you move. Impatiently, he tugs at your shorts, pulling you out of the kiss.

“These have to come off.”

“It would kill you to go slow for once,” you laugh, getting off of his lap on shaky legs.

“I go slow for you all the time,” he responds, shifting the towel at his waist, which you realize is barely holding onto him from all the grinding you were doing on his lap, “I’ve been going slow for months now. Isn’t it time to speed things up?”

You roll your eyes, but shimmy out of your shorts, leaving you in your panties and him in his towel. From this angle, he can truly appreciate you. Every curve, every beauty mark, every fold and crease on your body. He leans back, his hands bracing him against the bench. Then, he shifts forward abruptly, taking the opportunity to snap the elastic of your underwear against your skin.

“Yuta!” The cry is half an admonition, half a laugh. You move to push his shoulder gently and he catches you by the hand, pulling you on top of him and kissing you once again. Before you realize it, he has a sneaky hand slipping into your panties, touching you where you’re most sensitive, making you jolt against his hand.

“Is this okay?” He murmurs the words against your lips and you nod, trying to focus on kissing him through the pleasure of his fingers. It’s been far too long since anyone has touched you like this and you’re not used to it.

“Mm,” you moan back, “more than okay.”

He had said he wanted to go faster, but it seems like he’s just going so slow, making you fall apart on his hand, first with just a thumb on your clit, then two fingers pushed more deeply inside of you than you could ever reach yourself. At some point, you’re no longer kissing him and your cheek is pressed to his instead. You nip at his ear, which you now realize is pierced, and the damp spikeyness of his hair rests against your temple.

His free hand rests over your breast, rhythmically squeezing it as you ride his fingers. Oddly enough, you feel like he predicts your climax before even you do, working you carefully through the release of pleasure as you shudder against him and clench around his fingers. Before you can fully regain your senses, he’s kissing you again and removing his hand, wiping his sticky digits against the towel slipping from his waist. You figure you’ll finish the job, reaching down to untwist the cloth so that it falls open against the bench.

You continue kissing him as you take his dick in your hand, your thumb sliding over the precum beading at his tip. It’s his turn to shiver, his cock twitching in your hand. Giving it slow, purposeful jerks, you watch him become perfectly uncomposed under you and you grin, leaning closer to press a kiss to the juncture between his neck and shoulder. He’s stiff, but remarkably soft to the touch, veiny and thick enough that your mouth waters. A couple minutes pass before he’s encasing your hand in his own, slowing your movement.

“I don’t want to come in your hand.” You stop, looking at him with faux-innocent eyes. He blinks desperately at you. “Please.”

“Can I suck you off later?” The words leave your mouth unexpectedly. You hadn’t even really been thinking about the later, but you figure you’re safe to assume that there will be one.

“Of course, pretty girl.” He strokes your hair and you can just think about him holding it back in the future as he-

Trying to distract yourself from the later and focus on the now, you slide off of his lap once again. He almost seems confused, made lonelier by the tiniest distance you put between the two of you. It’s almost a funny image, him half pouting at you while his dick is out, standing up against his abdomen and completely exposed. You let out the smallest exhale of a laugh. “You showed me yours, so I figured I would show you mine.” Your panties fall to the ground, where you kick them in the general direction of the rest of your clothes. The sight of your shorts reminds you of another important thing. “Oh! Also!”

You scramble over to them, reaching into the pocket and producing the little foil packet. Yuta stares at you. “You’re… prepared? I didn’t even think this far ahead and half the time my brain is controlled by my-”

“Kun gave it to me before I came in here,” you say, waltzing back over to him. He takes the packet from your hand, tearing it open. You… give him a hand as he rolls it on. “He’s awfully ready for a great many situations, isn’t he?”

“I think he was expecting this to happen a lot earlier than it actually did, honestly,” Yuta responds, pulling you back on top of him for the third time. Once again, your knees rest on the hard wood bench. “Can we not talk about my roommate, please?”

“I can agree to that.” You smile, kissing him. “Can we talk about how much I like you instead?”

“We can always talk about that,” he says, one hand on his dick, one on your hip, “are you ready?”

The mood dips, making your body shiver in anticipation again. “Yes.”

The way he positions his cock and begins to push into you makes both of you let out noises of relief, a groan from him and a sigh from you. You sink down onto him further until he’s fully sheathed inside of you, hard and pulsing and ungodly warm. He gives an experimental buck of his hips, pulling a moan from your lips and shaping his into a cocky smirk. “Already feel that good?”

“Shut up,” the complaint dies in your throat as you lift yourself up on your knees and sink back down again, bouncing on his lap slightly. You focus on the feeling of him inside of you, the sensation of him hitting your G-spot, the touch of his fingers on your clit again. His breath mingles with yours whenever he takes a break from kissing you. Your hands wander the smooth planes of his chest, your thumb briefly ghosting over his nipple, your palms getting sweatier as you hold onto him. It’s not long before you let your head fall back, your thighs tense as you hold onto his shoulders and move up and down on top of his cock.

His lips are hot as he mouths your neck. You’re not usually the type for marking, but, honestly, the thought of wearing his hickey on your skin sounds beyond appealing. He introduces the slightest bit of teeth, grazing them over your pulse as you ride him. The trail of tiny nips goes down past your collarbones to your breast. Your heart beats loudly in your ears and the desperation of chasing your orgasm makes the passage of time feel fuzzy, but in the sweet, bubbly way a soda does rather than the heavy, blurry way a cold would.

“Yuta,” you whine, the knocking of your legs against the bench growing painful, “can you…”

“I got you, baby.” With a grunt, he stands, lifting you by the thighs. You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him close. A breath later, your back is pressed to the wall and he’s pushing into you once again. The new angle is a change, and it’s a good change. Every one of his thrusts hits exactly right, pushing you further and further until-

“Yuta, you’re gonna make me...” you pant against his mouth, breathing the same air as him. At some point, after he had picked you up, you had reconnected your lips, and he swallows the little noises you let out hungrily. You clench and unclench your fists behind his back, as your arms are slung over his shoulders.

“Mm, good. That’s my girl.”

All you can think as he pounds into you is Yuta, Yuta, Yuta. You come undone with a final swipe of his thumb and a choked cry of his name. Once your own orgasm has stopped burning quite so bright, lowering to a comfortable simmer in your gut, his hips slow with each thrust until he pushes into you and stays there. You can feel him throb inside of you even through the condom.

Your skin feels like it’s glowing in the aftermath of his love, warm like coals after a fire has just ceased to burn. Warm with the promise of more flames in the future. You lean your face in the junction of his shoulder and neck, breathing love onto his skin. His deep, uneven breaths slow over time as he presses gentle kisses to the exposed flesh of your shoulder. The silence between you is only interrupted by the ambient sound of water flowing through pipes hidden in the concrete walls of the shower part of the locker room. That’s enough of a reminder for you to groan, clutching onto him tighter. “I can’t believe we just confessed and fucked in your sweaty locker room.”

“From my perspective, it’s more ‘wow, I can’t believe we finally confessed and fucked, even if it was in my sweaty locker room.’” That, at the very least, makes you smile. Slowly, he begins to pull out, separating from you with a sticky, wet sound. He backs up, turning so that he can place you gently on the towel still lying on the bench. He disposes of the used rubber quickly, throwing it in a trash can at one end of the room.

Now that he’s no longer touching you, it feels so much colder. “I feel bad for whoever has to clean this place. I hope they don’t find that.”

He shrugs. “I’m sure they’ve seen worse.” He makes his way back to you, naked body still on full, glorious display for your eyes only. “Wanna shower while we’re here?”

You groan. “Yuta, I’m tired. No funny business.”

“Who said anything about any ‘funny business?’ I just suggested we clean off the sweat from all that physical exertion.” He’s smirking, not even pretending to be innocent.

“You’re insatiable.” Still you get up, joining him in the shower stall that he holds open for you. If any follow up activity happens while you’re in there, the only way anyone on the outside would be able to tell would be from the quiet sounds that are mostly drowned out by the noise of the shower.

As you finally redress, accepting the hoodie that Yuta had in his locker so that you don’t have to put your wet shirt back on, he can’t seem to keep his hands off of you, like he’s afraid you’ll go away. The environment between you feels different, but the same. After you’re both fully dressed and start walking out the door, you reach out to take his hand. He accepts the action, interlocking his fingers with yours. Both of you stop under the overhang of the building. By now, the sun has set and a few street lights shine along the walkways of the campus through the haze of rain. “Yuta, are you my boyfriend?”

He blinks a couple times. “Wasn’t that implied?”

You turn away, suddenly shy. “I mean… I just… wanted to clarify…”

“You’re too good for me.” He laughs, then kisses your cheek. Both of you stare out of the rain, as if it’s going to suddenly stop just because you’re politely waiting for it. “I meant it. Every time.”

“Hm?”

“Every time I said I liked you, or that you’re amazing. I was just afraid of- I don’t know. That I’m not honest enough or nice enough, or even good enough at soccer. I just-” He seems so tired as he says it, so brutally truthful, so terribly self-doubting.

You squeeze his hand. “Yuta, it’s okay. Honestly, all this time, I thought you’re too good for me. You’re so much more than the things you say you are. You’re a star.”

“I’m not. I can be an asshole, and jealous, and not serious even when I should be-”

“Yuta, if you like me despite all of my ridiculous bad qualities, I’m pretty sure I can deal with a little jealousy. You’ve shown me who you are and I still like you. You’re loyal and funny and romantic and so many other things. I like you.”

He sighs sweetly, like he was holding in a breath for so long and is finally letting it out. He’s holding your hand so tightly, it feels like he might never let go. Right now, you think you might be okay with that. “Sorry. I’ll never get tired of hearing that.”

You peer into others’ eyes for a long time, content to just look. Then, the cold finally gets to your legs and you shiver, scooching slightly closer to him. You look out. The rain isn’t getting any better. “Do you want to run? To make up for us not going together this morning?”

He doesn’t even respond. He just glances at you, winks, and tugs at your hand, starting to go. The rain pelts you as you go, utterly soaking you, getting in your shoes, darkening your borrowed hoodie. His hair sticks to his forehead, making him look a bit like a wet kitten. Maybe a lion, more accurately. Still, in the passing lights and the sheen of the rain, he glows.

“Yuta?” You say between shallow breaths.

“Yeah?” He keeps going, keeps tugging you along. You have to work to keep up with him, pumping your legs hard.

“Do you want to go professional?”

He looks back at you quickly, but then turns forward. “I would.”

“I really think you could do it!”

Then he’s laughing, truly, mirthfully. “That’s the second best thing you’ve said to me today!”

At that, you’re laughing too, though it slows your pace, though it makes your lungs burn, though it helps rain water run into your mouth. When you make it to your complex, soaked through, looking like you just took a swim in your clothes, you don’t want to let go. Reluctantly, both of you part ways to change clothes in your respective apartments with the promise to meet soon and start Yuta’s effort to culture you with anime.

Sowon and Yein tease you relentlessly, both when you enter your apartment leaving puddles on the ground and when you leave again ten minutes later completely dry. They tease you for the next week whenever they catch you leaving if they know you don’t have classes. The next Friday, you end up staying up far too late watching one of Yuta’s shows, which you admit are at the very least fun, and you fall asleep in his bed. You’re sure you’ll never hear the end of it from your roommates, even if Yein has been staying in the volleyball boys’ apartment every other day for the last month.

In the morning, a mere three hours after you and Yuta went to sleep, you wake up in his arms to a strange blaring of J-rock. He reaches over you to slap his phone and shut it off. You stay awake just long enough to comment on how strange it is hearing the music next to you and not through the floor.

When you wake up around noon to Yuta staring at you, his bangs half covering his eyes, you flip over, checking the time so that he can’t see the absolutely embarrassed look on your face. “You’re so weird.” “Why are you being all shy? I’ve seen you naked. There’s nothing more to see.”

“There’s plenty more of me to see, thank you very much, Nakamoto Yuta.”

“I know there is, darling.” His arm is still slung over your torso like it was when the alarm went off and he tries to wrestle you back around to face him. You squirm in his hold.

“Darling? You’re so weird. Why are you so weird?”

“Weird? I thought I was romantic and funny and-”

“And weird!” You wiggle more until he flips you onto your back, straddles you, and pins your hands to the bed. It’s quite an incredible sight, him pinning you down with his raven hair a complete mess and no shirt, where you can faintly see marks that you may or may not have left on his chest earlier in the week. “No fair. Home ground advantage.”

He leans in, looking ever so charming despite his disheveled appearance. “You know what makes for great morning exercise?”

“You’re weird and a horndog and-”

“Running! Let’s go.” He suddenly rises up, taking one of your hands with him and pulling you into a sitting position.

“Yuta, it’s noon! There are going to be people out everywhere.” He tugs on your hand and you move so that you’re sitting on the edge of the bed. “And it’s Saturday, so there’s going to be even more people…”

“You don’t need to worry about people judging you. If anyone gives you any funny looks, I’ll-”

“You’ll what? Punt a soccer ball at their heads?” You’re standing now, looking at him uncertainly.

He shrugs. “Sure. But, seriously. I promise that you have nothing to be self conscious about. You also have me. That part most importantly.” You would smack him if the smile he gives you doesn’t have you reluctantly agreeing.

He’s right, of course. The run is completely fine. At least, you’re distracted enough by your boyfriend for it to be fine. When you return, you split off to take showers in your apartments. After you emerge from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around your body, you find him waiting in your room. You register him saying something about the tables turning and “great afternoon exercise” before he practically pounces on you.

Afterwards, through your sex-high haze, you hear a loud knocking on your front door. Groaning, you move only so much as to press your face into Yuta’s shoulder. “Don’t wanna get up…”

“Did I make you feel that good?” His voice is a warm rumble, teasing, though full of the same tiredness that yours has. You’re about to jab him lightly in the side when his hand shifts down, two of his fingers running through your folds. Shivering at the suggestion, you wiggle closer to him, hiding your face even more.

“Let me rest, you sex-fiend.” Before he can reply, there’s a few more insistent knocks at your door. “Ugh…”

“Were you expecting someone?” You shake your head against him. He reaches over and grabs your phone. “I heard this going off earlier while we were busy.” You make no move to take it from him, so he turns it on, his eyes scanning the recent chain of texts you’d just received. “It’s your brother.”

You immediately bolt straight up. “What?” Your mind ticks back to the previous day before you’re scrambling out of bed. “Shit, shit, shit, I forgot he was coming today!” As quickly as you can, you try to throw on the various items of clothing that had gotten scattered around the room in your - Yuta’s, more accurately - haste to move them off of the bed, where you had laid them out for after your shower.

Yuta stretches lazily. “Glad I could remind you.”

“Asshole, get clothes on! He’ll kill you if he figures out what we did!”

“Ah, to be killed by L/N B/N. You say ‘what we did’ like it’s a bad thing.”

“He’s my older brother, for God’s sake!” You throw a shirt at him, smacking him in the face. “He will murder you! If he doesn’t murder me for forgetting our plans first…”

“And your plans are?” He slips his arms through the sleeves of his shirt, slipping it on.

“I’m taking him to see your game. Maybe meet the team. Who knows? You won’t be able to see it if you don’t move your ass.” You finish putting your jeans on.

“I’ve never escaped through a window before, but it sounds fun.” He’s still smirking, clearly amused. You’re certain he would actually do that if you let him.

“On second thought, just stay here. I won’t let him into my room.” Your phone lights up with your brother’s face and number and starts to buzz. You pick it up. “Sorry, I’m coming! I was napping.” You hang up. “Please, Yuta?”

He steps into his own jeans. “That’s what I was planning on. Don’t worry, I’m not trying to incapacitate myself before the game.”

With that reassurance, you close the door to your room and head for the apartment door. Your brother, clad in a hat, hoodie, and jeans, weirdly normal for him, is standing in front of your door, his phone in his hand. He narrows his eyes. “Hi, Y/N. For a second there, I really thought you forgot about our plans. Who takes a nap on a Saturday afternoon?”

You step aside, letting him in. “I was just tired today for some reason. Sorry.” “You’re lucky you’re my favorite.” He walks in, sliding off his shoes next to yours. “Are your roommates home? It’s been a while since I’ve seen them.”

“No, but they’ll be at the game later. You won’t miss them.” You stand there, swaying somewhat awkwardly. You’re sure that he’s noticed that you’re acting strangely. “Who let you into the lower doors?”

Your brother steps inside casually. “Your neighbor Jaehyun. Nice kid.”

“Y-Yeah. He’s one of our midfielders.”

“I guess I’ll get to see him in action soon, then. Where near here is good for something quick? We only have an hour and a half until the game.”

You’re thankful for a change in subject. “Depends what you want to eat! Think about it while I run to the bathroom?”

As you head there, you glance at your closed door. You feel kind of bad for leaving him in there, but it’s for his own protection. When you get back to the door, your brother is in the same place, staring at the shoes around the entry. He points at a pair of men’s shoes, which you realize with dawning horror are Yuta’s.

“Y/N? Whose shoes are these?”

“Oh! Those are, um, Johnny’s. Yein’s boyfriend.”

He deadpans. “Johnny. Your neighbor. The one who lives right across from you. Who is dating your roommate who isn’t here right now.” When you don’t respond, he sighs. “Y/N, it would be a lot easier to lie to me if you didn’t tell me so much in the first place. Who’s in your room? I know you hate closing your door if you’re not sleeping.”

Reluctantly, you walk to your room, cursing observant soccer players. Yuta looks mildly surprised to see you, and you walk over to where he’s sitting on your bed, grabbing him by the hand and tugging him over to your brother. If he’s afraid of your brother, he doesn’t show it.

“Yuta, was it?” He’s still expressionless. “I’ll have you know that there’s a few rules.” Before Yuta can even ask about the rules, he’s launching into a detailed explanation about consequences, saying something about maiming and making it look like an accident.

“B/N, you’re a professional now. You should really try not to say such scary stuff. Also,” you say, frowning, “I can handle myself. You know that by now.”

Yuta breaks his silence. “She really can. She’s strong enough to deal with anything.”

“You really believe that?” Your brother’s gaze is unyielding.

“I do.”

“Well, then.” He suddenly lightens up, smiling at the two of you. “Want to join us for dinner? I’m thinking noodles.”

“I actually have to get to warm-ups soon…” Yuta says regretfully.

“That’s a good boy. See, Y/N, I trust your judgement. We best be off, then.” Abruptly, your brother turns, putting his shoes back on. You scramble to join him, grabbing your things and putting your own shoes on.

“I’ll see you later?” You say to Yuta, who’s simply staring, somewhat shell shocked that he survived the encounter.

He blinks, then gives you a sort of smirk. “How about a kiss for-”

“Don’t push it.” Your brother cuts him off, standing in the doorway. He starts down the stairs. When he’s not looking, you lean over, pressing your lips to Yuta’s cheek. Before you can turn around, he sneaks one of his own onto your lips. You run after your brother.

He thoroughly grills you about Yuta during dinner, but you don’t mind. You keep out the parts about sex and the specifics of the relationship coming to fruition and he seems satisfied. You barely make it to the game in time because of your brother’s interrogation, but you still get there early enough to see some of the drills. In work mode, he crosses his arms, making approving comments about Yuta’s footwork. Your boyfriend is in a similar mood, already focused in.

Then, the game starts. The other team starts with the ball, but it makes no difference. The Lions take it back, sending it back and forth across the field, gaining and losing it, until Yuta, as usual, scores, redeeming himself from the previous week. Your brother says something under his breath about potential and skill. Through the game, the Lions make great plays and you find yourself cheering for all of them, even Mingyu. The rival team stands no chance - not for lack of skill, but simply because your team is determined. By the end of the game, the score is a solid 3:0.

You’re one of the first onto the field after the teams break away from shaking hands. You meet Yuta in the middle, jumping on him in a hug when you reach him. You can’t stop the outpouring of praise, telling him how well he played, how brilliant he was. He just laughs, telling you he did his best. It’s the most positive thing you’ve heard from him after a game.

When you let go of him, willing to let the rest of his friends surround him now, you step away in search of your brother. To your surprise, he’s chatting up the Lions’ coach, who seems somewhat flustered by the Ravens’ striker speaking to him. Before you can get close, the coach blows the whistle he has around his neck, getting the attention of everyone around him, but particularly the team.

“Boys! Gather round, we have someone here with something to say to you.”

It doesn’t take long for them to recognize who your brother is.

It’s funny seeing the team rush to your brother, some pretending to be cool, some openly fawning over him. But, there’s one person who isn’t looking at him. From across the mob forming around your brother, you make eye contact with Yuta. And, in the midst of the stars shining in the form of the Raven, the Lion’s light falls on you.

#yuta smut #yuta fluff #nct smut #nct fluff #neowritingsnet #nct angst #yuta angst #nct one shot #yuta one shot #nct fanfic #nct fanfiction #yuta imagine #nct imagine #yuta fanfiction #yuta fanfic #sports collab #i hope everyone enjoys this :)#apologies for lateness #wonjaekook

579 notes · View notes

wincore · 4 years

Text

act iii, incomplete | ten

pairing: ten x reader

summary: it’s the same vivid dream every time — you, a feline constellation that keeps smiling at you and a boy who won’t ever forgive you. autumn, spring and everything in between come to save part of that but the truth is this: no amount of time spent at your small town theatre with your once best friend is going to speak the words for you.

alternatively,

best friends aren’t meant to be lovers and ten, despite the millions of roles he’s played, keeps trying for the one role he won’t ever get.

genre: childhood best friends to lovers, slight theatre au, reincarnation themes, fluff, angst

warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of injuries, mentions of death

words: 23.9k

a/n: hello i’m so glad i actually completed this !!!!! i’ve never written something like this before !!! also longest fic let’s gooo ahaha special thank you to miss cat for reading this and making it at least infinity times better i am in indebted to u <3. playlist here.

part of the almost collab by @hyucksie !! (thank you for hosting this, it was lovely to be a part!!)

ACT I: HOMESICK

act i scene i.

For the first time in years, you hold your breath at the local theatre, the walls more and more debilitated each year. It’s the only place, perhaps, that is so vibrant in its dull shades. The key is memories. Memories keep you alive in a way death and life and sickness cannot interfere.

A single drum beat resounds through the theatre. A second one follows before a tune from a flute sets the mood. A voice speaks out, that of a woman, and it strikes you as somewhat sad. In that moment, you believe Ten would have pointed out to you that she is meant to do that, she is meant to play the part of someone sad. The curtains stare at you as undulating as a calm sea of red and you hold your breath.

This is a modern play and you’ve only kept up with them for the sake of watching Ten play a part in them. As for other plays, high school Shakespeare was the most formidable text you’ve ever read and you’d rather not fight for your life again.

“Has the world ever seen a woman’s love unrivalled?”

A projector displays a flower, peonies, on the curtains.

“She once fell sick, dreaming of a lover; and once sick, she grew worse. Love is not love at its fullest if one is not willing to die for it.”

You don’t think that’s quite right. The curtains are drawn right then, their velvet sheen accentuated under the bright theatre lights and two characters appear on stage.

Your first thought is that he’s grown far too much. The second is that he hasn’t changed much. Ten stands in the character of a play you haven’t finished reading yet, in clothes that accentuate his dancer’s figure and with the look of someone that isn’t him. You had tried to read the play earlier but you might have gotten a little too excited to complete it.

You bounce your legs in anticipation, the music and his voice fading out—it’s not like you can focus much with the high school kids giggling and making out in the seats right behind yours. You could always make a scene but it’s not like you to steal the spotlight away from your dearest friend. Besides, you need to reiterate through the list of things you have to help him catch up on since he’s been gone. Ten wouldn’t want to miss out on some spicy gossip. You chuckle to yourself, pressing your palms to your cheeks to cool yourself.

Ten likes overwhelming responses. You like to be overwhelming. You’re the perfect pair.

The play ends in a way you can’t tell if it was a tragedy or a comedy. You could have if you paid more attention but this isn’t literature class. You can do whatever you want now and you’re a little preoccupied with your own thoughts. Ten. Your best friend is back from Broadway after a year of barely talking. You can’t wait to hear the stories.

You get up as soon as the lights are on but when no one else does, you sit back down. The curtains part now and the cast comes on for their final bow. You shift around to see if Ten is looking at you, the older people beside you grunting in annoyance and muttering something about the youth. He’s not but Sicheng is and when you send a wink his way, he shakes his head.

You pout at the lack of attention but it’s time to make your way backstage now. The crowd is exiting and you need to get there before Ten leaves.

Once outside, you make a beeline to the back of the theatre building and mess up Sicheng’s hair as he leaves for home.

“He’s inside,” he informs curtly and makes as much distance possible between the two of you.

“Oh, don’t be shy, Sicheng,” you coo to annoy him. “You performed so well. Not as good as Ten though.”

Sicheng rolls his eyes. “Were you even paying attention?”

You cross your arms and push him onto his track. He shrugs and you watch his figure disappear behind the corner before taking a deep breath. With anticipation, comes a little unrestrained droplet of anxiety. You shouldn’t be worried, you tell yourself. This is Ten, after all.

The crows sing a song to themselves under the purple evening sun and you feel annoyed at the sound. It’s a song for ghosts. You hate the sound of it.

You rub your temples, trying to hush away the headache. You can’t wait to see Ten.

You swing the door open in an attempt to sneak up on him. However, you take a few moments to see him barefaced, the stage makeup washed off and a red undertone running through his nose and cheeks. That dark mop of hair sticks out every which way, and no attempt has been made to rectify it. It was once your job, actually. He rubs at his sleepy eyes, a yawn escaping his lips as he stuff his belongings into a worn-out satchel bag. You gave it to him when you skipped prom night. You smile.

“Ten!” you yell at the top of your lungs. You’ve missed him so much—an old greeting should warm him up. This town started feeling more like home once you heard the news Ten’s back.

He looks at you so cold that you stop dead in your tracks. You freeze up, the words suddenly collapsing into themselves like wilting flowers. You don’t recognize Ten all of a sudden. He wears a deep frown and empty eyes, something you cannot understand no matter what angle you look from. Everything’s changed now, hasn’t it? You truly understand what that means when you meet his eyes.

“Ten,” you repeat at a more respectable volume. “Hey. I… I missed—”

“Hey,” he responds a little too quickly. Eyes less sharp than usual, he averts his gaze. “I- I need to get home early.”

Ten grabs his bag and leaves the room, his shoulder brushing against yours. You stand there for a few extra moments, breaths shallow and quiet. When you regain the sound of your heartbeat, you leave the practice room, throat dry and a frustrated sigh on your lips. Consequences, every time it’s the consequences biting back.

The crows’ song goes unheard.

act i scene ii.

“So… you want me to get Ten to talk to you?”

Sicheng looks at you in disbelief, the ice cream in his hand starting to melt. You’ve never met anyone who enjoys ice cream in mid-autumn as much as he does. Sore throats are foreign to him.

You nod, crossing your arms. “I don’t know why he’s avoiding me.”

Sicheng scoffs, choking on the ice cream and taking a few moments to regain his composure.

“Thanks,” he says when you rub his back in pity. “But… you really don’t know why he’s avoiding you?”

You shake your head. It’s a lie. But the only thing you can think of is the summer he left, when he confessed his feelings and you rejected him after a few seconds of contemplation. You had good reason. You just can’t tell him that. You’re still young and there’s so much to look forward to.

"You obviously have feelings for him!"

"Yeah, anger! Why would he just ignore me like that? We've been friends for, uh…"

"Stop counting, you suck at math."

You punch his shoulder and his ice cream almost falls off. He looks at you with a glare so strong, you have to take a step back.

“Sorry,” you mumble. “I thought we were like any other pair of best friends.”

Sicheng snorts. “Yeah, best friends in love with each other. Didn't you suggest getting married once?”

“As a joke,” you interject, feeling heat on your cheeks. “Actually, do you know how useful a marriage of convenience is? It's got convenience in the name. Think of all the tax benefits.”

Sicheng rolls his eyes. “The way you looked at each other wasn’t a joke—you know what? I’m not going to be the supporting act to your whole romance charade. You figure this out.”

You pout. “So you’re saying you won’t help?”

He shrugs. “Maybe. You won’t know if I did.”

You furrow your eyebrows, groaning in exasperation. This was supposed to be a happy reunion and yet, you’re here moping to a theatre kid, hoping he helps you. You expected Ten to not take it well but right now, you wish you weren’t so blunt. You could have said it nicer.

You’re joking, right? Haha, nice one. Best friends don't fall in love.

Oh, this is all your fault. You knew him better than anyone else. You should’ve known the consequences too—you could scream right now. In your defense, you thought college made him lose a few brain cells. You still have to make it right.

“Fine. Whatever you might do, better do it soon.”

Sicheng shrugs, turning back to his ice cream and browsing lazily through one of the magazines. He’s supposed to be watching the store—he gets paid for it but he couldn’t care less about this place. Sicheng is something of a theatrical actor too, traveling around and performing with his theatre group. He never cared for Broadway as much as Ten did.

However, you’re all here now. This autumn is going to be spent with your best friends no matter the cost. You smile as you think of the time you and Ten surprised Sicheng with a whole bag of ice cream and he cried although most of it ended up melting. Sicheng raises an eyebrow at your expression but doesn't question.

“There’s a reunion party by the woods,” he announces. “Next week. Saturday. You have to make up before that. You know they’re going to be brutal.”

You shudder. Your classmates certainly won’t let go of the idea of your relationship with Ten. Teasing aside, they’re going to be making either one of you uncomfortable. All your excitement drains itself. Your shoulders slump and you think that perhaps, asking for forgiveness would be a better out. You recover quickly though. This has to work out, Ten has to be your best friend again—what choice do you have? You missed him and you’re going to let him know.

The first attempt begins right in the evening. Sicheng texts Ten after his shift, asking him to get some snacks. Lucky for you, you work at the local snack store, also called the convenience store. There’s nowhere better to get snacks. There’s also nowhere else to get snacks.

You stand behind the counter, fiddling with the drawstrings of your hoodie while your eyes trail to the hands of the clock on the wall. Sicheng texted him half an hour ago. Ten might not be the most punctual but you know he listens to Sicheng, even if it’s reluctantly.

Your impatience gets the better of you and you leave the counter to peer out the glass door. Unfortunately, someone pushes open the door right then and you clutch your nose, eyes watering at the painful impact.

Ten looks petrified for a moment before turning around and leaving. You furrow your eyebrows, tears brimming from the pain in your nose and mixing into the exasperation from getting so bluntly ignored. Come on, Ten. You curse on your way back to the lonely counter. There goes the only thing you were looking forward to this evening. Sicheng walks in a while later, a sour look on his face.

“He actually gave me a mouthful,” he mutters angrily. “Can you believe that? Me. Who’s listened to all his lovesick ramblings about y—theatre.”

You slump onto the counter further, the bright orange background of the store more headache-inducing than optimistic.

“God, this is so much more difficult than I expected.”

“What happened between the two of you anyway? I thought you promised to call him every day.”

“I tried, okay? He wouldn’t pick up.”

Sicheng raises an eyebrow. “Woah. Haven’t heard about that one.”

He places the single pack of Lays onto the counter. You get up to pull the chocolate ice cream from the cooler.

“Don’t bother. It’s so depressing getting shut out like this.”

Sicheng mutters something under his breath you don’t quite catch. It’s his complaining voice though, so you don’t question him.

“He’s going to be at the Bridge tomorrow,” Sicheng notifies. “Something about getting fresh early morning air. Now, there’s no way you can run into him and call it coincidence. So don’t do that.”

You cross your arms. “So what do you suggest I do?”

“I mean, if you’re accompanying Mr. Yang to the dahlia fields for flower shop business… that’s a different story.”

Your eyes brighten and you sit up. “You’re a genius!”

“I’ve been telling you guys since—”

You hug him and he chokes, almost dropping the Lays pack. The door opens and you hurriedly wave at Yangyang, who’s here for the next shift before running out the door in a hurricane of bad decisions and good intentions.

“I hate being the middleman,” Sicheng mutters to Yangyang who offers him a pitiful look. The evening returns to its pink skies and you race your feelings to your destination.

“Mr. Yang,” you whine. “You don’t need a single dahlia? I’m offering to help.”

The older man scratches his spotless white beard and looks at you in confusion. “I gathered a whole cartload just three days ago. There’s no way I need more. You know this place—no one buys flowers anymore.”

“I’ll buy them! A whole cartload.”

“And where will you get the money, child?”

“Uh.”

Mr. Yang shakes his head at your immaturity. “If you’re so eager, get me some chrysanthemums from Mrs. Leong’s sh—”

“No. It has to be from the other side of the Bridge,” you interject.

Mr. Yang is further perplexed but you’re glad he doesn’t ask further. Having to explain your love and friendship troubles to a senior citizen has never been an ideal situation. You make a face at the thought.

“Alright,” he says and takes a few moments to ponder. “You want an errand to run, right? Could you get me some sunflower seeds from Goodwin Park?”

“That far?”

He sighs. “Do you want to go or not?”

You nod reluctantly, checking your phone to see the time. It’s early as fuck and the only person you’d wake up this early for doesn’t even know you’re doing all this.

“It’s to feed the birds, isn’t it?” You raise an eyebrow.

Mr Yang nods.

“You know, you don’t have to do all that to get Mrs. Leong to notice you.” You offer him a cheeky grin.

“I’m assuming it’s also a person you’re doing all of this for,” he hums in reply.

You drop your grin and take the errand money, heat rising in your cheeks. Exiting quickly, you check the time again. Ten better not have left early.

Shortcuts are better when there’s someone with you, you decide. You have gained around five long scratches at five different places on your body trying to best the hill beside Maple Street in order to get to the Bridge faster. If Ten were here, he'd laugh at you for being so graceless.

The Bridge is empty when you arrive and you sigh deeply. You’re not sure if you’re early or he’s late or you’re astronomically late. The grass is still a golden green in colour, for autumn never truly comes in when you’re expecting it. The little stream below the Bridge is almost dried up but the wooden structure stays. You remember Sicheng broke his leg once, trying to catch Ten’s family cat pawing at fish in the stream when it used to be fuller.

You greet Mr. Santello at his garden and buy the sunflower seeds. Your errand is complete but the rising agitation in your chest makes you kick a rock on the way back to the Bridge. This side of the town is bleak except for the garden and the only fun you’ve had here is when a beehive dropped on Yukhei’s head (he poked at it himself with no provocation from your side whatsoever). The scenery is much prettier with someone to appreciate it. You, on the other hand, cannot wait to leave this town. You walk back with certain memories playing in your head, the smell of nostalgia rising with the sun. You’ve always hated early mornings; but you did have fun in them when you had to wake up for school trips. You hold your breath, stopping right before the beginning of the Bridge.

Ten leans against the wooden rails of the Bridge, Starmill Bridge, with eyes gently closed and white earphones plugged in. You smile to yourself. When the sunlight draws across his cheeks, he seems brighter than golden skies and softer than late afternoon clouds. You see the boy from your childhood, messy unbrushed hair and his favourite grey sweater. He’s so full of colour. You wouldn’t mind staring at him for as long as you can.

You take a step and your hoodie catches onto a stray nail, making you stumble onto the wooden floor of the Bridge. You look at your scattered boxes of sunflower seeds with horror but not before finding Ten plucking out his earphone to look at you. He’s so pretty even in a daze.

“Hi?” you offer. “I was on an errand, promise. Not stalking you and trying to get you to talk to me or anything. Hah.”

Ten shakes his head at you and quietly stares for a few more moments.

“I don’t want to talk to you right now,” he answers finally. “Stop trying.”

You look at him with a flickering guilt though you’re not sure why. He sighs and walks toward you, frowning. He takes out the cloth of your hoodie stuck in the nail with tentative care. Gathering the boxes of sunflower seeds scattered on the floor, he glances at you once before getting up.

You grab his hand before he can walk away again.

“Ten,” you say, your voice coming off more pitiful than you would like.

He turns back at you with lips pursed and a sorrowful look in his eyes.

“Sorry,” he whispers. “I need to work some things out.”

Ten leaves you hanging for a third time in your life and you pull yourself together enough to stand up. You can’t imagine—you don’t want to imagine how much longer this’ll go on. Ten used to be an amenable boy; it shouldn’t be taking this long.

Somewhere the wind comes tumbling in, whispering the words that everything has changed and everything is still changing.

The third and last attempt is outside his house. Ten’s mother is bound to notice you at some point, right? Considering you’re camping out like a homeless man from the nearby gas station, that is. You hope she’s out for grocery shopping and you can just pretend you were on your way home and ‘accidentally’ bumped into her. Being the kind soul she is, she’s going to invite you to dinner since it’s late already. And where else can you spend your time while she cooks but in Ten’s room? It’s perfect and there’s no way he can avoid this.

“(name)!” Ten’s sister yells in glee.

“Tern!” You smile at her.

“Mom’s sending me for grocery shopping. Do you wanna come help?”

You want to go inside the house but patience is quite possibly a virtue. You haven’t tried it out yet.

“Sure.” You grin. “I’ve got time to kill.”

So, you are aware that Ten’s sister tends to shoot off at the mouth with the right person but you somehow cannot get her to talk about Ten. Apart from his life in New York, that is, which you had hoped to hear from him.

“So… how come you’re not in our house already? No offense, it’s just you and Ten… you know.” She looks at you with an inquisitive quirk of her eyebrow.

Ten must be a really good actor. Not like you ever doubted him but for his sister to be so blissfully unaware, he must have put on quite the show. Either that, or he really has forgotten you. You try not to feed fire to that thought.

“Uh, you know, been busy with the snack shack. We’re redecorating. Mr. Kim is going to boil me alive if I slack off.”

She giggles at your expression. “I heard it from Yangyang. He said the redecorations are ugly though.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Ten let you talk to Yangyang? A boy?”

She crosses her arms with a disbelieving laugh. “He can’t tell me how to live. Besides, he doesn’t care.”

You laugh. “Right. You have no idea how overprotective he can actually be. Older brother instincts or whatever.”

She suppresses a laugh. “And you must be facing the boyfriend instincts.”

You stammer out a response but it doesn’t make any sense. It’s alright to get laughed at, you suppose, if Tern is in fits beside you.

The rest of the conversation is about things less important. It would be rude to not engage though so you talk with enthusiasm all the way back. Part of you sees Ten in his sister. How terrible of you to see someone else in a person right beside you.

“(name)!”

Ten’s mother looks pleasantly surprised.

“Good evening, ma’am!” You curtsy in an exaggerated manner, and she laughs, patting your arm.

“How come it took you so long to visit? You hardly ever came over these few years, and I’m a little upset about that by the way, but I thought for sure, you’d be in the house the day Ten came back.”

You scratch the back of your head sheepishly. “You know. Work and stuff. Mr Kim is redecorating the store.”

She exhales in annoyance. “Is that man exploiting you children again?”

“I’m—uh… I’m an adult—”

“Hush,” she instructs, voice strict and you zip your mouth immediately. Never question a mother’s statement.

“Ten’s in his room, by the way. Should I call him?” she asks, after a minute of complaining about Mr. Kim, which you would have loved to join but there are other matters at hand. She has all the gossip in town and yet, she’s somehow blissfully unaware of the silence between her son and his best friend. Are you not as important? It makes you pout but you quickly neutralize your expression.

“Ten!” she shouts when you don’t respond, a little lost in your own thoughts.

“Uh—oh no, you don’t have to do that!” you say quickly. “I’ll just go to his room.”

You hurry up the stairs, just in time for Ten to open his bedroom door and jump back in fright.

“Oh my fucking god,” he mutters, like the soul has been kicked straight out of his body. In any other situation, you would’ve loved to give him a scare.

You walk into the bedroom and lock the door behind you.

“Ten. We need to talk.”

“I don’t wanna talk,” he says, furrowing his eyebrows. You notice the change in his features—his hair has grown out, his face is more chiseled and he has an angry quirk to his brows. “I told you I need some space. You never know how to listen, fuck.”

His voice is a low whisper, in the short space between you. You don’t move from your spot, with your back against the wall and feet nervous. You shift from foot to foot and look him in the eye before looking away. You’ve never felt this way around him. You’ve never actually pissed him off this bad. You don’t know what to do.

“Just leave. God. I can’t believe you think you can just walk in!”

You frown at his words. “Ten. I just wanted to talk to you again. We’re friends—”

“How does it matter if we are? Everything’s changed. This whole place has changed. I’ve changed.”

“But… that doesn’t mean we have to pretend we’re strangers—”

“Leave. Please.”

His voice is so low and odd that you don’t recognize it anymore. You sigh. You can’t convince him when he’s so defensive. You open the door to his bedroom to find Ten’s mom and sister in the hallway trying very hard to pretend they weren’t eavesdropping. You offer them a sad smile and thank his mother for the dinner before taking your leave. You feel too ridiculous to cry.

How do people put in all that effort in romantic comedies? You don't even know where to start. Maybe you should follow the King's advice from Alice in Wonderland.

Begin at the beginning and go on until you come to the end; then stop.

No. No, you can't be thinking of ending scenes right now. There's a much bigger problem at hand. Saturday. You better brace yourself for the unpredictability of former prom queens and class presidents, and the predictability of this small town that never changes.

act i scene iii.

High school reunion parties here aren’t exactly mawkish affairs. There’s alcohol, people who are meant to be adults but haven’t quite grown into it yet, the looming woods, and more alcohol. There's no room for sentimentalism when your former classmates, seniors and juniors—those who could be here, at least—are back together and it feels like nothing has changed at all. However, college-age boys always pose problems.

“Look, if Johnny can do it, so can I,” Yukhei tells you.

Johnny smacks his shoulder encouragingly, and a few of your friends giggle at the two lanky men, looking like they’ve discovered something priceless beside the campfire light.

“This beer tastes like crap,” you mutter before returning to a regular volume. “But go ahead and try chugging two bottles in under a minute if you want.”

Your backhanded statement backfires almost immediately because he does exactly as you said. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you try not to peek at Ten, sitting beside Johnny and looking rather sleepy. It’s the bedhead, you think to yourself. It’s cute.

“Alright, who’s next?” Yukhei asks, voice booming enthusiastically.

Yeri sighs beside you, tired from the late night and not so much from the alcohol. Speaking of which, the alcohol table is somehow still stocked and Sicheng stands beside it, looking sour from being forced into guard duty.

“Tell him to pipe down,” Yeri mutters, pressing her forehead against your shoulder and you look at her apologetically.

“(name) hasn’t answered anything yet!” Sooyoung pipes up and you shoot her a look she ignores. “Neither has Ten, by the way.”

A bunch of “ooh”s pass through the crowd of roughly twenty people, and you would bury your face in your hands were it not for that stubborn pride of yours.

Truth or dare is quite possibly the worst game in the history of mankind. Ten looks somewhat flustered under the attention but he just sighs.

“Get it over with.” He looks at Yukhei expectantly.

“Kiss (name)!”

Your heart drops and you glare at Yukhei. You should have expected it. There is no one more unimaginative than drunk boys. His cheeks are flushed when he grins at you, encouraging you with a thumbs up gesture.

“He doesn’t have to do that.” You cross your arms. “Consent is important even in fun and games.”

The sentence is so didactic of you but you hope the seriousness in your voice makes him back off.

“But you guys are, like, in love with each other,” Yangyang blurts before covering mouth as if he said something scandalous.

A bunch of chuckles follow, though Johnny shows some concern towards Ten. You remember why you hate high school reunions now. Apart from the fact that almost everyone gets to tell their stories of big cities and big dreams they get to live in, everyone turns into a child again when at a reunion. Perhaps it’s the burst of memories or the vivid glow of old connections returning but you can’t stand childishness. Even if you’re the one to act like a child sometimes.

“I’m gonna go drink,” you say. “That’s the punishment, right? I’m not playing anymore.”

Yukhei groans. “Come on, (name). You wouldn’t be such a bore.”

“I would,” you snap and get up from your seat, Yeri muttering in annoyance before leaning onto Sooyoung’s shoulder.

Ten is glowing in the cheeks, you find when you look at him. He meets your eyes once and looks away, playing with his fingers.

You pour yourself some beer into a cup and lift it up to show to Yukhei before striding off to a place farther than the warmth of people and the campfire. The giant log is a nice enough seat by the edge of the woods. It is cold and mossy though, and you hug yourself, sticking your hands into the pockets of your cardigan.

The sound of footsteps over dried leaves catch your attention and you look up. Ten takes a seat beside you in silence. You move the cup of beer so that it doesn’t spill from any sudden movement. It’s quiet for even longer, your pulse the only rhythm to follow.

"Ten." You smile, looking away from him and into the ceaseless stretch of woods. He hums in response, as though a habit yet to get rid of. It makes you bite down your lip to prevent the smile from turning into something sadder.

You miss him. You miss the years you spent with him. You're drawn into him, into something old, familiar and safe.

No one can save you when you’re homesick.

However, you do not give up easily. What is broken can be mended with enough love and care.

Ten sighs, taking the cup from you right before it touches your lips. "Don't drink that. You hate the taste and it makes you go crazy."

You pout, but can't really find something snarky enough to say. Not when he looks like that—with dry, still-red lips and tired, apologetic eyes.

“Your forehead is so oily,” you mutter.

Ten looks at you, furrowing his eyebrows. He proceeds to hesitantly wipe at his forehead with the sleeve of his sweatshirt before shaking himself out of it. Instead he just glares at you.

“It’s not oilier than your nose,” he shoots, annoyed.

“At least my nose isn’t titan-sized.”

“My nose is perfect. Do you- do you know how many people fall in love with my perfect nose every day?”

You laugh, covering your face. His features soften and he returns his gaze to the comfort of the endless forest. It does have an end, at the fences by the railway tracks but in believing that something can be infinite, you find comfort.

"New York treated you well. Too well. But then again, you were always a narcissist."

You smile smugly at him and he gives you an unamused look.

"I'm… I'm glad we're talking," you offer after a few moments of unacknowledged silence.

He tenses ever so slightly, running a hand through his already messy hair and looks at you. He looks away again as if in an internal debate.

“You rejected me, (name),” he says, exasperated. “How do I recover from that? Don’t answer. It was so embarrassing.”

You close your mouth. If only you could tell him the truth. You had to reject him or your sentimental boy would never leave for acting opportunities. He doesn’t have to know that. You’re fine with loving him quietly. You’re fine with loving him quietly.

But the truth is, it’s too scary to think about. You’ve been refusing to look at your feelings for a long time now. It’s only a cliche; it doesn't happen in real life. You’re too good of friends to be in love. Isn’t that right? It certainly couldn't have been you to fall in love with Ten. There were a million other people to do that in your stead. You feel shy all of a sudden.

“That was pretty embarrassing,” you mumble, pressing down your smile and he rolls his eyes.

After a few moments in silence, a sigh escapes his lips. “I’ve had enough time for closure though. I can’t believe I actually said that. Oh, the over-sentimentalism. Yikes.”

He makes a disgusted face.

You giggle. “I can’t believe it either. You do look cute blushing, by the way. You find any lover in the big, scary city? Any rebound?”

Ten rolls his eyes. “Too busy. And are you going to tease me forever about this thing?”

You laugh. “That’s the Ten I know. You’re always working. Sometimes you should have fun.”

“I have plenty of fun. You’re the one that used to cry at birthday parties.”

“I was six years old and it was one time, holy shit.”

The two of you break into laughter. The cold makes you draw nearer to him.

“Hey, wanna go to the mall this weekend?” you suggest.

“Wait, it’s still there? Wasn’t it supposed to get knocked down?”

“Yeah but the townsfolk didn’t want that so they delayed it. There’s, like, barely any employees though. It’s like a ghost mansion at night.”

Ten makes a face. “The afternoons there were so bright, like, there was so much sunlight, remember? I remember you always drinking my banana milk at the food plaza.”

You laugh. “I miss skipping class to go there. Now there aren’t any classes to skip.”

“Oh my god, remember when Mr. Wilson actually caught us?”

You laugh louder. “We had to pretend we weren’t his students. Which was futile acting because he knows every student.”

Ten sighs.

“I missed you. God, I’m so fucking sorry—I was in over my head. I thought I ruined everything.”

“Hey.” You scoot closer, wrapping your arms around him. “I missed you too. Besides, it’s not you if you’re not being a bit of a drama queen.”

Ten elbows you in the side at the comment and you yelp, moving away and glaring at him in response.

“Just because I’m in theatre doesn’t mean I’m a drama queen.” He mocks the tone of your voice and you giggle.

“So any special Broadway stories you have in mind? I wanna hear something funny.” You rest your head on his shoulder comfortably.

"Well, one time this actress' dress caught on fire—"

"That's not funny, that's horrifying."

Ten purses his lips. “Okay. Uh… I got told to fuck off by an eighty year old man in drag after I threw raw steak at his window?”

You snort, eyes widening and Ten throws up his hands in exasperation. "How is that remotely funny?"

"I'm pretty sure that's as funny as it gets with you."

"I can't believe you're pretending I didn't carry our sense of humour on my back for all of middle school and high school."

“I missed you," you say quietly, and he flusters, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

"Really? You're not just saying that?"

You sigh, inching closer. "Yes. I did miss you, you know? I called."

"And I didn't pick up. I know. I'm sorry."

"I think you've apologized to me more times now than you have in our first twenty years of friendship."

Ten rolls his eyes. "And I mean it. It's not the 'sorry I ate your cookies' apology."

"I fucking knew you were the one eating stuff from my bag back in high school."

Ten presses his lips, making a zipping motion and you push him in exasperation. The two of you laugh, loud and clear, before Johnny's voice comes in, telling the two of you to "stop fooling around near the woods" and that it's "unhygienic".

Seasons change but people don't. You walk home with Ten for the first time in a year and suddenly, you’re in love with the idea that things can just lie in complete peace once they fall back into what was always meant to be. Perhaps it’s the writer’s utopia, but you think it’s much more meaningful this way. Ten's hoodie smells just like home.

prologue.

It was a sunlit morning when you first met Ten, but it was only a sunlit morning. There were no birds chirping or faceless adults on that sidewalk or even your friends because you don’t recall them. You recall a child with two very important teeth missing and your sudden urge to run to his side. You’d pulled his cheek with a huge grin on your face because, and you still stand by this, they were too cute and plump and red to resist.

You were three and a half years old when you met Ten and you parted when you were twenty. One year later, you're back to linking arms, joking about each other and talking about life as though it's a passing stream.

You were six years old when you cried at Ten's birthday party because no one was talking to him. It gave you an evening's worth of attention and a huge smile on Ten's face. You still think kids are mean as hell but they care for things like they have never cared before.

You were eleven years old when you started to lose a little bit of touch with yourself. You talked less, you looked at people more. Ten's face was still the most comforting out of all. He said he liked to listen no matter how annoying you sound. Somehow, by the time sixth grade was over, when you were almost twelve—you talked at least twice as much.

You were fourteen years old when you dated a boy out of curiosity and left on an awkward note when he moved away. You weren't sad for some reason. The idea of life passing meaninglessly by was engraved into you, like the waves that carve the beach. Ten was distant the whole time, with a scowl and more sarcastic remarks than usual, only warming up when you showed up at his door with a homemade cake. It tasted horrible and had the texture of a mossy pebble but you laughed over it anyway. Suddenly, life wasn't meandering but a river full of vigor in spring, beside a garden of fresh crested irises.

You were sixteen when you were pushed to audition in a play by your best friend. The play was about life and death and love, and it didn’t make sense to you the way it did to him. You had good fun backstage with the costumes and the makeup, and it was all that mattered to you. However, some part of you didn't like it, hated it even when he kissed the female lead of the play with eyes full of adoration. You looked on as Villager B and you hated every part of it.

When you were eighteen turning nineteen, you decided to save up for college. It would take time—years perhaps but you would get there. You would get an apartment with Ten in New York City or any city full of bustling, busy life and you would tend to your rooftop garden. Small town dreams, however, die and they die and they’re buried in unloved, unplanted soil.

You finally understood what your tenth grade English teacher meant when she said everything is theatre.

The night he left, you had a nightmare. It was a play and you were the protagonist. You couldn’t make it in time for the night of the performance, anxious and afraid as you arrived. You’d been replaced. You hated to see him on stage with someone else. You hated it. You hated it. You hated it so much.

Of course, you knew it would be a showstopper the moment that fight broke out between you and your replacement. You were cruel in that dream—almost as if you were someone else. But you felt comfortable in that skin, like you were meant to play that part after all. As if you were the villain all along and not the sweetheart of the show. You felt comfortable and it scared you so much that you woke in cold sweat and cried for an hour straight.

It hurt how lonely you felt. It hurt without Ten and you hate that you let him go. Something took shape inside the cavity of your chest, the shape of a weed sprouting in the pulsing garden of life—you won’t make the same mistake again. You’re going to hold on with all your might, till your hands ache and till your heart has had enough.

ACT II: YOUTH

act ii scene i.

“Have you ever actually shoplifted in your life?”

“Oh, shut up.”

Ten tries to suppress his smile and fails, moving so that his back covers you from view instead. A conversation about New York subways led to a conversation about anarchy which led to… this. You’ve been trying to swipe the butterfly pin from the display for the past half an hour. You weren’t actually going to steal it—you just need to prove you can.

The mall is always eerily empty. It shouldn’t be this big of a hassle. Ah yes, apart from the fact that the souvenir shop has stationed the most number of employees for some goddamn reason. You’re not even sure why it’s there; a souvenir shop for your town might as well be a forgotten relic.

“What? No,” he says quickly. “I’m not doing that. Causing trouble is your thing.”

You snort. “Right. Because everything we got into trouble for was done completely by me.”

“That’s actually true.”

You elbow him, giving him your most offended look.

“You can’t be serious about never causing trouble. You broke Mrs. Leung’s famous ruler, remember? And you always stole your mom’s Halloween cupcakes. Those were for all of the theatre crew, by the way.”

“That doesn’t sound right, darling.”

When you look up at him with eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, you find him smiling in somewhat tranquil thought. It has been rather long.

“Yeah, I helped you way too much,” you respond, distastefully.

The two of you straighten at the cashier’s call. Responding that everything’s fine, Ten turns to you with a pointed look.

“If you’re going to do it, better do it before she gets suspicious.”

The hint in his eyes reminds you that he is indeed the devil you know, and you quickly pocket the little butterfly hairpin. This is not ethical in any way and even so, you feel the childish exhilaration. This is to prove a point to your dear friend.

“See?” you whisper to him, exiting the shop. “I could totally pull this off.”

“Not if I start screaming ‘thief!’”

“Did you ever get to play a villain at Broadway? It’s closest to your personality,” you jab.

He sends you a sardonic smile before sticking his tongue out. You should always beware a childish man and his childish smile. You never know if he’ll take you seriously. Ten is the absolute worst and you love him all the more for it.

“Are you actually not gonna pay for it?” he asks, tilting his head.

“And let all those proceeds go to our corrupt overlord mayor? Nuh-uh.”

Ten laughs. “We should go vandalize his campaign posters again.”

The mayor has had, you don’t know how many, little scandals accusing him of embezzlement and every time, he’s escaped easy as pie. All the things you can do with money and you decide to hoard more money; you will never understand people like him. Besides, you won’t have to worry about that any time soon.

“See? You’re the troublemaker. I can’t even vandalize good enough.”

“It’s not my fault you have zero artistic talent.”

You place your hands on your hips. “I’m sorry? I’m pretty sure I taught you how to paint.”

Ten rolls his eyes, a sneaky smile on his lips. “Yeah. You taught the whole class how to paint when you smacked Mr. Cheng with that paintbrush.”

You can’t help the laugh that comes to you, despite trying your best to hold a serious expression.

“You’re a disaster,” he adds, staring incredulously at your fit of laughter.

You look at him and start laughing again.

“Oh my god, what’s so funny? I wasn’t even trying to be funny.”

“Okay, emo boy,” you say, finally straightening and messing his hair.

“I was going to get a haircut.”

“Don’t. You look pretty.”

Ten hums, raising an eyebrow. “But I wanna look hot.”

“That’s going to take a lot of effort.”

Ten grabs you in a chokehold, messing your hair with his hands in the most obnoxious way possible. Finally able to loosen his grip on you, you look at him with your most fearsome glare. He has to stop treating you so gracelessly.

It’s not unusual for him to behave this way; in fact, you welcome it when he’s warm and much lovelier than the usual. But something feels amiss, something dangerous like the passage of time.

“Ten?”

“Yes?”

“I thought you’d be talking much more about New York instead of our boring old town.”

He hums, eyes scanning the vicinity of the mall’s first floor. There’s an ice cream shop opposite to the souvenir shop, unvisited due its lack of variety in flavours, and a spacious marble floor with most of the shops closed for renovation. The other two floors are closed off completely but you’re sure that with enough effort, you could sneak in. The glass ceiling at the centre allows for sunlight to wash in as gentle waves, settling on your heads like golden crowns. There are little potted plants lining the walls to make the mall space look less dilapidated but it gives off the same effect as that of something abandoned, left alone and waiting.

“You want me to brag about it?” He addresses you with a slightly cocky grin.

You roll your eyes. “Never mind.”

The mayor wanted to turn this place into some sort of religious campus but you detest the idea of that man getting his way. He’s the very same man to reprimand little girls for their outfits and to say “dancing is not manly” so you do owe his nauseating sexism for your distaste for him. That, and he has absolutely no sense of aesthetics. You would die before you let him remove the gardens or the livelier buildings blessed with the only colours you can bear to look at.

“Hey, (name)?”

“Yeah?”

“I think Angry Cashier is making her way towards you.”

You snap your head to the souvenir shop and the cashier is indeed eyeing you suspiciously. You reach to pat your pocket but you’re stopped by Ten.

“You are, by far, the stupidest thief I’ve ever known.”

You puff your cheeks in annoyance, crossing your arms instead. Just when you think the cashier is going to call you out, the two of you sprint over to the mall exit with a plausible enough speed.

“We didn’t have to run, you know?” Ten complains as soon as you’re out and a street or two away.

“What’s the fun in committing a crime if we don’t get to run?”

“I don’t know, it could be a brain exercise—oh wait. You don’t have one.”

You stick your tongue out at him, walking faster to get away from him.

“Hey!”

He jogs up to you, eyebrows furrowed and ready to spit some sass at you, no doubt.

“I thought you’d be more athletic. Dancing and all.”

“Yeah, no.”

You fix the hair in front of his eyes as he leans over on his knees, a look in his eyes as though caught off guard. They’re a lovely shade of honey, his eyes. They look at you with emotions you can't quite fathom and with the innocence of a love borne between friends who have been forced to endure the mediocrity of this town together. It’s a good reason, you believe, to be friends. Friends are meant to help each other, to save each other and to be there at the lowest. You can check all the boxes. It might have been a while but you’re friends and friends that grow up together stay together. The idea is naive but you cannot possibly look into a future without Ten. There must be a reason behind everything that is given to you. Even right now, as the silence starts to nip at you, you believe you were meant to make full circle. Fate is a funny thing and you wouldn’t believe in it ever, even for a surprise twenty dollar bill vending machine miracle, but it’s comforting enough to let settle on the two of you.

The lead actors go hand in hand.

“Are you going to keep staring at me? I know I’m tragically beautiful—”

“No, you’re beautifully tragic. Your face, that is.”

“I stopped listening after beautiful, so I believe you agreed with me there.”

You roll your eyes.

“You and your unyielding confidence can go fuck itself. I’ve seen you cry over a cat movie.”

Ten sputters out a response. “But- but Garfield saved that dog despite every fiber of his being telling him not to. He could’ve lived a happy, peaceful life but he saved him. How is that not incredibly touching?”

“You’re weird. Garfield’s cute though.”

“Like me.”

You wrinkle your nose. “What are we, twelve?”

“I was having my rebellious punk phase then, so no. I would never have said that when I was twelve.”

You laugh. “God, you looked so funny back then.”

“I thought we agreed to not bring up stuff from our teenage years.”

You press your lips together in an attempt to stop the laugh but a tiny giggle comes out anyway. The sun is going to set in an hour. You better make use of your time.

“Ready to go vandalize some posters?” you ask, grinning.

“You know what? I have a better idea. We should go pick some flowers.”

You blink at him. “That’s not remotely punk or rebellious.”

“Shh. You like picking flowers. Remember how we used to joke you should be hired at weddings instead of the flower girls?”

You make a face. “Why on earth would I fling flowers in the air at weddings? That’s not even a respectable job.”

“It suits you.”

“We should be kinder to our arboreal friends.” You cross your arms. “I’d rather tend to a garden than pick flowers for stupid occasions.”

“Tree-hugger.”

You pull up your middle finger and he laughs, fixing his hair right back into the messy waves.

“Why do you hate weddings?” he asks all of a sudden.

“Oh, you know. Icky stuff.”

“No one’s having sex at the wedding.”

“That’s not what I meant by icky stuff. It’s that gross feeling in the air. What’s it called?”

“Love?”

“Please, there’s hardly any love at weddings. It’s all pretend.”

Ten rolls his eyes, chuckling. “You think all the brides and bridegrooms in the world are pretending at their own weddings?”

“If you say it like that…” You grumble. “I don’t believe you need to celebrate love, that’s all. It’s always there, you know?”

You look up to see Ten pressing his fist to his mouth to keep himself from laughing and scoff in disbelief.

“What’s so funny? Seriously, stop laughing—oh for fuck’s sake.”

Soon enough, Ten is crouching by the sidewalk in a fit of laughter which causes a hot flush rising over your neck. You weren’t trying to be cheesy. Now, your best friend is hellbent on making you feel embarrassed.

“It wasn’t that cringe. Come on. Get up, asshole.”

“You were- you were just so—” He takes a moment to catch his breath, a few short laughs erupting from him nonetheless. “You looked so serious when you said that.”

Your face is hot enough for you to look away now. “Whatever,” you mumble.

“It was cute. You looked really cute,” he continues, somewhat sobered up. “And brave. You always say things with so much confidence that it’s brave. I’m glad you are the way you are.”

You look at him, slightly dazed before your cheeks puff up to prevent yourself from laughing.

“I regret saying that. You are the big, hideous regret of my life.”

“I thought I was cute?” Your snickers turn into laughter again.

“Fuck off.”

“Thanks, Ten. You’re really good to me.”

Ten shakes his head before walking away, leaving you to call after him in phrases of ‘wait up!’ and ‘when did you get so fast?’ as you try to catch up. You sometimes wonder if he likes being chased. You reach the busiest crossing in this town, with about four cars waiting at the stop sign. You’re not sure why anyone follows the traffic rules if there isn’t even any traffic.

Looking up, you gasp at the moon peeking over a still young sky. You're suddenly reminded of those afternoon naps you had in Ten’s room, the both of you fascinated by the idea of waking up and seeing the sky a whole different colour. The idea that time changes everything was still fresh in your minds then, the impact gentle if not loving. It’s quite late you found that time can steal just as much as it gives.

“Remember when we dyed your hair red?”

“I will, and I shit you not, physically assault you for saying anything about that.”

You laugh at the memory of his awkward hairdo. “No, the other time. When we were seventeen.”

“Oh yeah, I received like eight love letters for that.”

“No, you didn’t.”

He did look pretty, and just in time for Valentine’s day’s theme of red roses and nauseating pink hearts.

“I have proof.” Ten leans his elbow against the street lamp, missing it completely and stumbling backwards till he regains his balance. He gives you an impish smile, running a hand through his hair and breathing out.

You roll your eyes, ignoring his words. “I think we never took pictures of that.”

“So… what are you suggesting?”

“One good picture,” you answer, pulling out your phone and taking a picture of him off guard. Looking at it, you pout. It’s so unfair that he gets to look nice even in a hazy evening picture.

Ten rolls his eyes, snatching your phone. “Let me show you how to take good pictures. Not whatever crap you have going on.”

You cross your arms, huffing but agree nonetheless when he forces you to pose by the street light. He blabbers on something about composition and colours that goes straight over your head but you can’t deny that the picture came out ridiculously well. You might have to change all your socials with a new profile picture.

“See? You can thank me with a kiss,” he says, a cheeky smile across his face.

You press your lips to his cheek in a swift motion, a smack sound resounding from it. It was uncalled for, you think, because Ten freezes for a few seconds in an uncharacteristic manner. He shakes his head, a scream dying in his throat before turning to you with the most scandalized look.

“Oh my god, what did you do that for?” he says, rubbing at his cheek in a teasing manner.

You wrap your arms around him, furthering his protests although he ends up smiling wide. “You asked for it, honey.”

“Nicknames are my thing. Stop trying to copy me, it’s embarrassing.”

"Okay, now let's take a picture together," you suggest pulling him closer.

He clicks his tongue and takes the phone from you, and when his hand rests upon the small of your back, you try to freeze up. His face is near yours, not unlike the usual but you feel your heartbeat hike up. It's a strange feeling.

"Now, can we go home?" Ten asks, handing you your phone. "I can't believe your background is rilakkuma."

"I'll change it," you respond, voice strangely quiet. You're only half smiling but Ten's smile is full and bright, eyes honey-pure. "To us."

Ten hums in satisfaction and offers his hand like a gentleman from another century, something you tend to exaggerate and you take it with a laugh. The two of you walk with entangled arms and playful skips over the pavement, getting the same old looks from passersby as you did as children and teenagers. The traffic lights glow a gentle hue below the mature blue evening sky, fading easily. You realize as gently as waves lapping at the shore that you missed Ten so bad it still hurts in the hole he left.

act ii scene ii.

Any weekend in a boring little town of flowers starts with the news of parties. It used to be Johnny sending invites but now it’s mostly just Yukhei calling people for impromptu college parties. Now, you are aware that college parties are horrendous in every shape and form; you are also aware that the two hour car ride to the city college isn’t safe. But it’s easy to ignore hackneyed advice to stay away from parties and alcohol and weed when you’re young and have a ridiculously large group of friends.

The drive isn’t the worst part. At least the drive to the party isn’t; the drive back is usually too hazed to be memorable. Sicheng’s driving this time and with a lot of grumbling but he gets enough pitiful pats to the back and cheek to stop it. Ten has his feet up on the dashboard, having called shotgun before you by one fucking second. You’re stuck with Sooyoung and Johnny in the backseat, sandwiched uncomfortably at that, but you lean forward enough to nag Ten the whole time.

“(name),” Sooyoung calls in a sing-song voice. “Your overly affectionate looks for Ten are showing and it’s not even eleven yet.”

You furrow your eyebrows, stammering out a response and regretting it immediately. “You’re- You’ve been teasing me about this forever.”

“No, she’s right,” Johnny joins in. “Come on, there isn’t even alcohol involved. Yet.”

You roll your eyes, shrinking into yourself as the two of them laugh on either side of you. Sicheng says something along the lines of ‘nauseating’ and ‘idiotic’ but he gets an elbow jab from Ten.

“I’m driving,” he hisses.

“Into every sidewalk we come across?” Ten shoots back.

Another bout of laughter rings through, and this time you can smile too. It’s not that you’re particularly bothered by the teasing; it’s just uncharted territories you have no desire to chart. You always thought you’d meet Prince Charming on a balcony in a summer evening, and this is optional, but it should happen with ‘Love Story’ by Taylor Swift playing in the background. It’s quite inane to assume it would be your best friend, whom you have spent countless summer evenings listening to old Taylor Swift songs with.

Before you were aware of college house parties, you thought things like these would be more of a less-people-more-booze sort of situation. Turns out, the alcohol to people ratio is nearly the same. Stumbling out of the entrance to the frat house, Yukhei greets the lot of you with a dazed smile before promptly throwing up into the bushes. Rolling your eyes, you pat his back while Sooyoung gets some water from her purse.

“How many drinks was it this time, Yukhei?” Ten teases. “Half? Three-quarters? No wait, that’s a stretch.”

“Very funny,” Yukhei mutters, somehow still upbeat despite his continuous retching. “I bet you’d be drunk after a shot of whatever the hell I had too.”

Adjusting his jacket, Ten narrows his eyes at Yukhei with an incredulous look. “Okay, you’re on. Let’s go.”

Sicheng raises his hands alarmed, but Ten has disappeared into the swarms of people before any sound can leave him.

“He was supposed to drive on the way back,” Sicheng complains. He opens his mouth in sudden realization and then turns to you. You look from him to Johnny and Sooyoung who share a look and walk briskly into the party with a thumbs-up gesture.

“Oh. Oh no,” you say.

“No, yes,” Sicheng responds.

You shake your head and laugh before sprinting inside, Sicheng’s yells of protest fading out.

Yukhei wasn’t kidding when he said his frat hosts the craziest parties. There’s far too many people here, at least far too many for Ten to have fun. You like the energy of the crowd though, all in their own zones and dancing to old party pop songs. The smell of alcohol hits you so strong at first that you have to take a breather in the little garden space they have. It’s more of an overgrown shrubbery instead of a garden but any green will do. Walking back in, you feel much more comfortable when you take a shot of vodka from a girl passed out on the couch. Laughing, you look around for familiar faces. Parties, however, are not the place to look for faces at all. You think you just spotted a fur neck warmer tied around a dude’s waist while he performs some Neanderthal variant of belly dancing.

You bump into a guy of fairly tall stature, a polite apology tumbling from his lips.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you chuckle in amusement. “You’re not a party kind of guy, are you?”

He stares at you with a placid expression, intrigued. “And how would you know?”

“First, you’re not drunk. Two, you look grossed out by those dudes on the bar table. Three, you’re making conversation with me instead of dancing.”

“So you’re saying I can’t make conversation and dance at the same time.”

“I’m sorry, Mister, but you look like you’d rather not dance at all.”

He laughs. “That’s your way of saying I have a stick up my ass, isn’t it?”

You shrug, giving him your friendliest smile. “I prefer talking to drinking too. What’s your name? I need to know the name of the only sober guy in here.”

“Doyoung,” he answers. “Something tells me you’re not going to give me the same pleasure of knowing your name.”

You smile, pressing your index finger to your lips. “Names at parties are better left unknown.”

Something about him is inherently attractive, and you find yourself drawing nearer. Perhaps you could have a more fun night this way. “It’s much more fun to guess. Now, I’m guessing your party-loving best friend dragged you in here so you could get laid.”

He sighs, smiling at you. “I’m actually part of the frat.”

You gasp, hand covering your mouth. “No way.”

“Someone sober has to oversee whatever the hell’s going on here.” He shrugs. “Now, and this isn’t a guess, but you’re not from our college.”

“Nope. I’m from that little flower town nearby.”

“Ah, I heard there’s a lovely dahlia field there.”

You nod. “And me. Just as lovely.”

You bite your tongue. That was certainly not sexy enough flirting. Ten has been rubbing off on you with his lame comebacks. Doyoung, however, laughs really loud at that. He must have a worse sense of humour than you thought.

You turn sharply at the sound of your name. Ten seems to be waving at you from a table of beer pong, looking rather distressed. You wave back with a bothered look on your face, aggressively signaling for him to handle his shit alone. He pouts and signals more desperately for you to come. Sighing, you turn to Doyoung.

“Sorry,” you say. “My friend seems to be in a pinch. Either that or he’s attention starved again in a record time of eight minutes.”

Doyoung laughs. “I liked talking to you.”

“I liked talking to you too, plot twist.”

“Is that what you’re calling me now?” Doyoung smiles at you. "Ah, I tend to forget but someone always comes along and shows me how friendships are made."

With one last smile, you leave him and walk halfway through to Ten before realizing you forgot to ask for Doyoung’s number. It’s too late to turn back now for the crowd blocks your version and you begrudgingly make your way to Ten. So much for your fun night.

“What was so important that you had to pull me away from the only attractive dude in this party?” you say, crossing your arms.

“Who, Doyoung?” he asks. “I’m at least six times hotter. And anyway, help me win this.”

You roll your eyes. If Ten knows Doyoung, you can somehow finagle your way into getting his number.

“I suck at this game,” Ten mutters. “How the hell is it supposed to hit its mark when the cup is so far away?”

“You have shitty aim,” you say, taking the ping pong ball and throwing it right into the cup. Smirking at the dude who’s already wasted on the other side, you turn back to Ten.

“That’s how you play.”

“Maybe you just have magic hands. Kiss my balls for good luck—wait, fuck, I didn’t mean that.”

You throw your head back and laugh at the disgusted look on his face. Sometimes Ten forgets to think before he opens his mouth and it might be surprising, but he does think before most things he says. He’s always been careful in the subtlest ways.

“I hate this game,” Ten says after missing the cup again.

“Let me teach you,” you say, moving behind him and taking his hand holding the ball. He stiffens before letting you guide the angle of projection as you throw. It lands right in despite the wobbly beginning and you grin at him.

“I’m so done with this party,” he whispers, hands on his hips and stretching much like a cat after a nap.

You giggle. “I didn’t drink enough to forget everything that’s ever hurt me though.”

“You’re hurt?” he asks, before clearing his throat. “If you wanna stay, I’ll stay too.”

“I’m not a child, you know?” you say, smiling incredulously. “I don’t need you babysitting me.”

“I don’t need you talking to any more Doyoungs. You know his body count?”

“That guy?” you ask, jaw dropping.

“It’s not that much actually,” Ten continues, smiling deviously. “More than what you expect from a guy in law though. You can shut your jaw.”

You huff. “How do you know though? Did you sleep with him?”

Ten wrinkles his nose. “I would rather eat your baking than sleep with him.”

“Hey.”

Right then, the two of you are approached by a now-sober Yukhei. He must have vomited enough alcohol out of his system by now. Johnny stays beside him with mild worry across his features. Sicheng on the other hand looks like his social battery has drained out already.

“It’s time for a drinking game!” Yukhei tells the two of you. “With the… uh… not so drunk people.”

“So just the five of us? Where’s Sooyoung?”

“Doting over Yeri,” Johnny answers.

“Ah.”

“Let’s play something if you guys actually want me to stay and not die of boredom,” Sicheng mumbles in annoyance.

"Truth or drink?" Yukhei suggests.

"Hell no," you mutter. "I've had enough of that."

"What, no dare this time," he insists with a wide smile and arms outstretched.

You hum. "What are you curious about anyway? I know you wanna know something."

Yukhei scratches the back of his head before glancing at Ten. "Well… have you two ever… I don't know, experimented with each other? Like you're best friends, right, so no hard feelings."

Ten furrows his brows, a gaze that's somewhere between a glare and a confused look.

"Experiment…?" He asks, almost afraid to.

"In bed," says Yukhei bluntly.

Ten turns a few shades darker in the face, noticeable even under the multi-colored party lights. You, on the other hand, pray your stunned expression isn't mistaken for the embarrassment you feel. You're not sure why the feeling arises.

"(Name) wishes," Ten jokes, playing it off.

You roll your eyes. "You wish, asshole."

Yukhei pulls a face and raises a hand to interrupt. "Please don't start another lover's quarrel."

Sicheng snickers at the side, although you thought he wasn't listening. How on earth does this joke not get old to them?

"Anyway, my question is answered," Yukhei says. "Best friends who are in love with each other cannot sleep together but friends who are not… they can right?"

Sicheng hums in response, a teasing smile already on his lips. Ten groans and places his hand to the back of Sicheng's neck, almost threatening.

"What would you know about sex, Sicheng?" He bickers. "You're like virgin supreme."

You narrow your eyes. "And what would you know?"

Ten opens his mouth then closes it promptly. Sicheng and Yukhei on the other hand break into laughter, mentioning something about digging graves before taking their leave from the two of you. You really don't think either of them should be drinking—considering Yukhei's a lightweight and Sicheng is supposed to drive.

Ten smacks the back of your head and you yelp, smacking his shoulder as hard as you can.

"I was trying to help us there," he complains. "You're so unfun."

You mimic his statement and he tries to pinch you in the cheeks, which you expertly avoid.

"So tell me," you say. "Have you or have you not had sex?"

Ten sighs. "Okay, yeah fine. Guilty. Whatever."

"What happened to no flings in New York?"

"Didn't feel like telling you."

"Oh, I'm so hurt."

The two of you look at each other and burst into laughter, easy to forget the scores of people around you in the moment.

“So you definitely had a few flings in New York,” you say, crossing your arms with a smug smile.

“Like three, yeah,” he answers, shaking his head. “What does it matter?”

Some part of you is satisfied with the way he doesn’t look too interested. It’s the ridiculous part of you. The clementine light over his features make them seem even gentler than usual and you smile, pressing the back of your hand to his cheek.

“Wha—”

“Mhm. Your cheeks are so warm.”

“Oh, so now I’m your personal heater.”

Ten places his hand over yours and your heartbeat hikes, and so easily too when he looks at you with his honey eyes.

“You know what, you’re right. This party’s getting boring.” You look around, as though pretending will help you any better. But then again if Shakespeare was onto something and all the world's a stage, then you never stop pretending, right?

Ten looks at you for a suggestion and the moment pauses, contemplation on both of your faces.

“Let’s just get Sicheng to drive us back,” you say finally. It’s not like you can stray too far for fear of Sicheng leaving behind the two of you (he’s done that before).

Sicheng jumps at the idea of going back and all of you have to participate in dragging drunk Sooyoung into the car and away from a slightly worn out Yeri. Thanking you and fixing her disheveled hair, she walks back into her own corner to what seems to be aggressively coding on her laptop and flipping the finger to any dude who approaches her. When work calls, you simply cannot hang up.

You and Ten are forced to sit together in the backseat now for Johnny sits shotgun, massaging his forehead from whatever hellsent concoction he made for himself and his friends. The drive is mostly quiet and you lay your head on Ten’s shoulder while Sooyoung snores beside you. It’s quiet like the laps of water between ripples. It feels so secure to stay like this, like the world cannot interrupt. You’ve missed your best friend. You’ve missed him so much.

You and Ten part ways with the others at the crossing and you don’t skip over the path as you used to, with the jovial youth you contained then. No, your steps are slower and perhaps more mature but still in pace with Ten’s just as ever. A cat waits by the entrance to your door, the same calico that has won over your mother’s heart and now waits patiently for treats. In a way, you kept feeding it because you thought of Ten whenever you did.

It seems these days, the only way to get kisses from Ten is to be a cat. He pets the cat with tender strokes and presses his face to its forehead with no fear of cat-borne diseases.

“Hey, Ten. What about me?” You pucker your lips at him and he presses his palm to your lips instead, snickering.

In these short moments, moments that barely last, do you feel the three years he’s been gone. It’s funny how people change and never realize they do. It’s funny how you’re in awe of every person he becomes.

“I missed your rooftop the most in New York,” Ten says.

You chuckle. “You hid there when your mom was mad at you.”

“Do you know how many slippers your rooftop has saved me from? I think your rooftop is more of a best friend to me than you are.”

You place your hand over your heart in mock hurt and he shakes his head, grinning.

“Well, let’s prove I’m more worthy of the best friend title then,” you say, grabbing his hand, the skin so soft to you, and dragging him into your house in quiet tiptoes. You remember coming up here back when you pretended to be pirates, when you acted out Shakespeare and when you wanted to forget the world, the terrible, cruel world you found yourself hating often. This is your hiding spot, a safe place. Ten makes it more so.

Lying down against the rooftop, you trace the sky from star to star. The good thing about small, dimly lit towns is the clear view of the stars. So far from troubles, it must be easy to play the audience.

“That looks a little like Felis,” Ten says, taking your hand and tracing a particular arrangement of the stars.

“Is that a… cat?”

“Yeah. It’s not a constellation anymore,” he tells you. “But I like to think it is.”

“I wish things never end too,” you mumble. “Like Brooklyn Nine-Nine. Or that new Taylor Swift song. I wish some things went on forever.”

Ten laughs airily. “I wish too.”

You turn to look at him. The curve of his nose is pretty as ever, eyelashes hanging close to the skin of his cheeks as he breathes with eyes closed. There’s a significant number of words you haven’t exchanged yet. There’s so many words you’re holding back.

“You seem tired,” you note.

He hums in response.

“Was New York that hard?”

He opens his eyes to look at you. “A little… tiring, yes.”

“Well, I’m glad you can rest now.” You smile and he returns it.

“I’ve been running for so long and telling myself I’m still dancing,” he says, a sigh escaping afterwards. “I don’t even know where I am anymore.”

“You’re with me,” you respond. “Right here. On my rooftop.”

“Watching the stars again,” he completes, laughing aloud. “God, I wish we were kids again. All I cared about were the flavour of my cereal and how many constellations I could memorize.”

“The stars don’t give a shit about you, Ten,” you tease, repeating the line you used to tell him.

“The stars might not give a shit about us,” he agrees, “But that’s why I’d like to watch them a little longer.”

“Me too,” you say softly.

You take a deep breath and let it out. These are the moments between the bloom of a flower and when it is picked. These moments are serene and warm and gentle, however ephemeral they may be. These are the moments between the flapping of a butterfly's wings—times when you and Ten fell asleep in detention in fifth grade for something that was very much your fault, or when he pets your head with the biggest grin after pissing you off on purpose or the proximity of the baby blue sky after your latest shopping mall mischief. But the flower will be picked someday. To live is to live in fear, and no matter how you try to buzz out the idea of it, it will come and it will prove itself.

“Sometimes I wish I were an angrier person,” you say quietly.

“What for?”

“They just seem so much more driven.”

“You’re driven enough. I think you do everything right already.”

“Working at plant nurseries, maybe. I’m not even a good enough cashier.”

“Flowers suit you.”

“You know, I could spend my life picking flowers and arranging them if I could,” you say, sitting up. “Everything moves so fast that the garden’s gone by the time I get to smell the flowers. You get me?”

“Yeah,” he replies. “I wish time could stop. Sometimes it does. When I’m on stage.”

“What’s that like?”

“It’s very beautiful,” he whispers, eyes fixed on you.

It's quiet, the sounds of the night filling the space between you and him.

"You know, in dance," he starts, "the most powerful thing you can be is still. It's also the most difficult."

You hum in response. "I find it easy to be still with you though. It's like I don't have to perform anymore, you know?"

Ten laughs. "I know. I wish I could say that about my ambitions."

You place your palms against his cheeks, holding his face gently. You're not sure if it's because you're a little tipsy or Ten's lips that are driving you crazy, but you smile wide.

"You are like a flower," you begin rather wisely. "And spring hasn't arrived yet."

Ten blinks before snorting and then laughing like you just said the stupidest thing ever.

The downside to getting along like a house on fire is that the house is still on fire and you don’t know what to do about it. Your heart is burning and you want to tell him the words you’re holding back. But if they escape your mouth, the wind might carry it away and leave you with a heavy response. You can’t say anything yet. Not until you’ve mustered enough courage to leave this town behind with him. Not until you have enough financial confidence to fall in love.

“Hey, Ten.”

“Hm? Don’t ask me something stupid and ruin the night.”

You giggle. “Will you stay with me wherever I am?”

“A little overdue but yes, until death do us part.”

The two of you laugh, shoulders shaking and eyes brimming with an unsaid emotion. This is how you fall in love. You fall in love like flowers blossoming and withering, like you have only each other to withstand the test of time.

“Should we dance?” Ten offers. “This time, maybe you’ll finally learn to not step on my feet.”

“That just makes me want to step on your feet more.”

It's so easy to fall in love that you fall asleep to the feeling—like the nights after you watched cartoons well past bedtime and thought that Ten was the prettiest boy you'd ever seen, after reading illicit internet horror stories in seventh grade that only made you huddle closer, after creating a pillow fort in the name of memories the night of your graduation when you couldn't say out loud that Ten really is the prettiest boy you know. The feeling slips in like you slip on your night clothes and you forget they were ever off at all. Comfort is a fleeting thing but in that moment, it felt forever.

act ii scene iii.

Halloween is undoubtedly the greatest time to spend with friends. There’s spooky stories shared, an abundance of favourite candies and if you happen to be friends with theatre kids, there’s most certainly a fun play going on. The crisp autumn air is vaguely nostalgic, brimming with memories in this town.

Evening creeps in and once you’re done with the day’s chores, you get dressed with such speed that your mother has to convince you to slow down. It’s like you’re a kid again, and you'd like to enjoy this morsel of your childhood before you're forced to grow up.

Greeting Ten’s mother as you rush into the house, you run up the stairs and into Ten’s room, opening the door with a loud bang. Somehow, Ten’s scream is louder than that. He’s wearing a towel around his waist (only a towel), hands covering his chest with a horrified look on his face.

"Stop screaming," you say, hands on your hips. "We've seen each other naked, what's the big deal? Actually, do that pitch again, you sound like Meryl Streep from Mamma Mia."

Ten chokes, covering his mouth with his knuckles while he coughs.

"We were like four and a half! How does that count?"

You giggle, turning around. "Change. Quick."

"I mean, you can see if you like, darling," he calls, liltingly. "I know you can't resist me. Ugh. Can't stand all this pining from a friend."

You make a gagging sound and he laughs. It seems like he’s gotten over the initial shock of you barging in. The sound of the wardrobe opening and Ten shuffling through clothes follows. You are glad, however, that he can't see the look on your face. You must be looking ridiculous. You wonder if he can see how tense your shoulders and torso are. This is not the way you wanted to start the evening. Can he tell apart the distinct nervousness in your voice? It's suddenly difficult to play it cool. And isn't playing it cool something you do in front of a crush?

You catch a glimpse of his naked back and it makes you shake your head violently to get rid of the thought. How ridiculous. You can’t be lovers yet.

“Alright, you can turn around. What the fuck are you even supposed to be?”

"Say hello to the wicked witch of the West!" You exclaim, grinning ear to ear when you jump around.

"Oh, you don't have to dress up for that."

Your smile turns into a pout and you pull hard at his still-soft cheeks. He lets out a pained whine, grabbing your wrists and gently tugging them off. His skin turns red easily, however, and you're left with an image of rosy-cheeked Ten just like when you first met.

“You’re a demon spawn,” he hisses, rubbing his sore cheek.

“No, that’s definitely your thing. Can’t borrow that,” you say, crossing your arms and smiling smugly. “Why aren’t you dressed as one? Actually, why aren’t you dressed as anything?”

Ten shrugs. “I have to wear some ridiculous ghost outfit for the play so I decided I’d rather play the part of a sexy pirate ghost.”

You snort, looking at the half-buttoned white shirt tucked neatly into black trousers. “You? A ghost? A poltergeist is the word you’re looking for.”

Ten rolls his eyes. “If I were a ghost, I’d definitely haunt you for the rest of your life.”

“Okay, ghost boy, let’s get going.” You loop your arms through his and pull him out, leaving in just as much a whirlwind as you walked in. You do walk back in though—to stuff a few of the cookies Ten’s mom baked in your mouth and walk right out with a muffled ‘thank you’ and your hand still around Ten’s wrist.

Arriving at the theatre, Ten catches his breath though he tries to not look worn out before squinting and making a show of searching for something.

“What are you looking for?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows.

“The train you thought we were going to miss.”

You stick your tongue out and finally let go of his hand. He pulls it to himself, rubbing at his wrist with an exaggerated look of pain.

“Oh, it’s still intact. Thought I’d have to bid farewell to my dreams of being a professional calligrapher.”

“Eat ink, Ten.”

“Ooh, it’s the rare PG-13 (name). Nice.”

A loud bang emanates from the back entrance, Sicheng looking like a rather mortified Count Dracula (which is strange because Dracula is immortal, right?) with fake blood splattered across his jaw and two little fangs poking out. Ten no wastes no time in complimenting them, making Sicheng rather flustered.

“It was bad enough having to listen to your flirting through the door,” Sicheng mutters. “Get in. Quick. Sooyoung pulled out and we need someone to fill in.”

Your eyes light up and Sicheng is about to deny your wishes when Ten intervenes.

“(name). You get to play a slightly deranged witch with a most definitely existing bloodlust. You in?”

“You bet I am! I was born ready. Except in sixth grade when I had that meh phase and I wasn’t born ready. Then I was born ready again!”

Sicheng makes a face. “Yeah sure, just get in.”

“Aren’t you glad I’m dressed for the occasion?”

“Not really, no.”

Ten whistles when he walks in. “How much fake blood did you guys get?”

“Enough to re-enact Red Wedding from Game of Thrones,” Johnny answers from a corner, in a costume which you can’t tell if it’s a werewolf or just a fursuit. You can never seem to guess when it comes to Johnny.

Ten laughs before turning to you, the sound tuning out. “I have never watched Game of Thrones.”

You pat his shoulder, laughing. In the next moment, Sicheng pushes a script towards you, expecting you to actually read.

“Sicheng, you know I’m going to improvise.”

Sicheng groans. “Shakespeare was right. Hell is empty and all the demons are here.”

Throwing a pointed glare at you when he says the word ‘demons’, he crosses his arms. It’s easy to convince him though—he’s quite amenable when he’s stressed out about details and both you and Ten know he just needs some reassurance and good, gentle shove.

You and Ten sit on either side of him on a really, really worn out couch that you’re not sure can hold the weight of the three of you.

Sicheng holds up his hands in both of your faces before you can open your mouth.

“I feel like the child of a really immature couple who is forced to grow up at a tender age because his parents are so immature.”

“Uh,” Ten starts. “That’s very specific.”

“The character I’m playing has daddy issues,” Sicheng responds casually, and a little out of it. “Actually he’s got mommy issues too. Why am I playing an eight year old?”

“Because children are crap at acting,” Ten answers and you reach your arm to smack the back of his head.

“What? Ow, that hurt.”

“Sicheng, it’s our stupid Halloween play. We do it to have fun,” you say, placing your hand

“You going all motherly is freaking me out,” Sicheng says, wide eyes staring at you.

“You’re right,” you say, dramatically sighing. “Motherhood changed me. I can’t do evil black magic anymore. Aha! That’s a good dialogue, isn’t it?”

“Harrowing, actually, but I guess that’s what you’re going for.”

You and Ten share a fond smile, laughing to yourselves till Joohyun calls you and gives you basic stage direction. She’s almost never home except for Halloween and it makes the holiday even more exceptional.

“Ready, Wicked Witch of the West?” Ten nudges you before he has to go on stage.

“Wait, is that actually my character?”

“No. No, it isn’t. For the love of cats—the animal, not the musical—please just keep speaking and make it worse on stage. I need a recording to laugh at.”

You roll your eyes and push him on. He looks so at peace there, the conversation from that night coursing in remembrance. It’s like everything is still, the lack of motion driving him to move.

You never understand it yourself, however, when you’re on stage. You blabber like an idiot, as Ten says, and the audience laughs and that is it. You don’t experience what he does and it sometimes drives you a little crazy. Of course, you adding a pregnancy narrative to your witch does throw the rest of the cast for a loop but they handle it well. You just have to make sure you run as fast as you can from Joohyun after the play is done.

“Good job there,” Ten snickers after you duck behind a curtain as Joohyun passes by with furrowed brows and a frown.

“I know right? I’m literally Oscar-worthy,” you whisper-yell and Ten shakes his head.

“Come on.” This time his hand grips your wrist. “I know the best way to sneak out of this theatre.”

Taking a flight of stairs that you were previously unaware of, you plunge into the darkness of what seems to be an attic. Ten turns on the flashlight of his phone and you yelp, the lighting not helping his already spooky makeup. He laughs before navigating through a bunch of boxes.

“I heard they used to use this room as an execution chamber,” Ten whispers.

“They did not. Get the fuck out of here.”

“Okay fine. I did cry here though after reading an internet article about ill-fated lovers in ancient Asia.”

“Ugh. Truly horrifying.”

“Yeah, yeah. Emotions terrify you.”

“They do not.”

Ten stops walking.

“Oh yeah? Got any proof?”

You stop yourself before you can do something embarrassing. The first thought that came to you was to kiss the smug look off his face and it does terrify you. The bastard is right.

“I… cried at your birthday party.”

“You were six. Everyone cries when they’re six.”

“Alright, fine. I cried after you left.”

The silence makes you look up and for once, you don’t really want Ten to be so speechless. You punch his shoulder lightly.

“I missed you a lot,” you say quietly. “Is that so surprising?”

He opens his mouth but no sound comes out.

“Hello? Anyone inside?” You knock at his forehead before holding his face between your face. “You’re shivering. It’s pretty cold here.”

“I’m not cold,” he says quickly, the red rising in his face.

“Of course, you’re cold. Your cheeks are aflame, that’s how cold it is.”

Ten shuts off the flashlight and you scream at the abrupt darkness.

“It’s not from the cold,” he mumbles.

Now left with only Ten’s warm hand around your wrist, you let him guide through wherever the hell it is you are before emerging onto the second floor of 1075 Building.

“What the hell?” You gasp. “Why wasn’t I aware there was a secret passage here? Is this what archaeologists feel like? ”

Ten smiles, in some sort of victory. “You don’t know a lot of things.”

You walk into the empty room, or rather wiggle in through the window—this building used to be some sort of housing apartment before being torn down halfway for renovation. Some ghost stories spooked the workers too much to continue. However, having been here long enough, you know that the only thing haunting this place is the abundance of cats. In fact, you can see a few eyeing the two of you from the other windowsills. The room is fairly well-lit and maintained so you guess the renovation will start again soon.

“You got us pizza?” you exclaim at the pizza boxes and cans of cola resting over a little picnic blanket.

“Yes, I did. Wait, crap, I forgot the candy.”

“Nah, that’s okay.” You show him the Reese’s peanut butter cups and Snickers you had pocketed from some unsuspecting children. They get way too many anyway. This is completely morally justified—you’re doing this to save them from cavities and poor health.

“I can’t believe you’d ever want to escape a theatre,” you say before humming at how good the pizza tastes. Pizza is always better when you’re having it someplace you’re not supposed to be in.

“Sometimes, it’s suffocating.” He finally bites into his pizza, an unreadable look over him. You don’t like it. Shifting closer so that your knees touch, you lean in a little.

“Oh, really? After all that talk about how beautiful it is.”

“It is. It just wears me out sometimes. Like you.”

Ten flushes red immediately. “I didn’t mean it—I, I… uh.”

“Aw, you think I’m beautiful.”

“Gah, I knew you’d say that.”

There’s a pause.

“I got kicked out, actually,” he says quietly.

“What?”

“I had some disagreements with the writers and… and here I am.”

You look at him in stunned silence. “They did fucking what? I’m going to kill them.”

“No, (name). I was at fault. I overstepped. I guess city air made me a little greedy.”

“You were always greedy though.”

“If that’s your example of sympathy, you are horrible at it. Never try again.”

“Well.” You smile reassuringly. “You’re quite beautiful on stage. Too. Like me, as you said.”

“I’m a performer,” he says, a hint of satisfaction in his voice when he leans in. “You can’t beat me at that.”

“Then put on a show for me, darling.” You raise an eyebrow, a cocky smile over your lips.

Ten’s cheeks colour. It’s silent for a few moments and you take notice of the lack of distance between your noses, your lips. He seems to lose touch with reality when he gently cups your cheeks and presses his lips to yours. A soft gasp escapes you, not quite ready for the contact.

Ten pulls apart immediately, a look of horror in his eyes.

“I- I’m sorry… I got caught in the—I’m sorry.”

He gets up abruptly and you still sit there in shock. When your senses are back, the room is empty and you hug yourself, feeling colder. God, you’re an idiot. For the first time in your life, you’ve come to your senses and you decide to let the only person you’ve loved walk out the door.

Your texts to him that night aren’t even left on read but you know he’s read the notifications. He always does when he’s avoiding someone. You feel the weight slithering in, pinning you down and making it hard to sleep that night. You have so many things you want to say to him and this time, you’re ready. Even if fate doesn’t let you, you will speak the lines you should have chosen much earlier.

act ii scene iv.

You don’t have anyone to show it to but the news broke you.

The idea of him keeping it all to himself, bearing burdens that are better shared makes your heart collapse its walls into itself. You’re supposed to be there. You were supposed to be there from every pitfall to the top of the world. You were supposed to be at every stage, at every afterparty and for every bout of performance high. You didn’t mean to leave the seat empty.

You were supposed to be there at every rejection and every failure, making fun of all the troubles.

You get a text from Ten two mornings later to meet up at the new cafe everyone’s been talking about. It takes you the rest of the morning to practise what you’ll say, what you won’t and how you’ll say it. You’ve never done this much for actual plays. But you’re not acting—you just need the words to come out right.

The wall of the cafe is covered in ivy, but you cannot waste time admiring it. Your nerves have the best of you. You stop at the entrance, backtracking to say your entire speech in your head once again. The most important friendship of your life depends on this stupid monologue you came up with a night before in front of the mirror.

“(name).”

You jump, finding Ten behind you. His nose is a little red from the cold but he looks fine apart from that. You can’t believe you’re early. This might be the first time in your life and you breathe out, slightly more confident.

“Can you… uh, not block the door?”

“Right. Sorry.”

The two of you walk in, a nervous tremble over your fingers but you clasp your hands together tight. He still remembers your favourite drink and you take a moment to try and understand why it’s surprising at all. You wish he never left.

“Ten,” you begin. “If you want to talk about that kiss—”

“Stop. I’m sorry. That was so out of line.” He lets out a distressed sigh, leaning back in the chair.

“It’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be,” you say quickly. That was not in the speech.

He sits up. “I… Am I taking things too seriously? You’ve been my longest friend, (name). You should tell me.”

You frown. “I didn’t mean it in a harsh way. You just think it’s bad because you kissed your best friend and—”

“No. What do you think?”

You gulp.

“See, (name)? I lied because it fucking hurts right now. I don’t want to play this part.”

“No, Ten. I wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell you so many things but there’s the city, your job—oh. I- I don’t mean to bring it up if the wound is still fresh. Ten—”

“You don’t understand,” he cuts. “You’ve always been happy here. You’re happy wherever. I’m not… like… that.”

There’s a pause. You pull your jacket closer, the temperature dropping despite the smell of warm baked goods and hit coffee.

“I thought you knew me,” you whisper coldly.

Ten looks away. “I don’t. I don’t know. I don’t know anything about you. I don’t know anything about anything.”

You breathe sharply. “Ten, I know the city was tough but it’s all you ever wanted.”

“I don’t know what I want,” he whispers. “I don’t know where I belong and- and it just keeps getting harder.”

Your eyes soften. “At least, you were there at Broadway. You took the first step and maybe… maybe you can make a priority list, you know? Work things out.”

“(name), stop. You keep trying to cheer me up in the wrong way.” He dips his face into his palms, rubbing at it and sighing.

You purse your lips. This conversation is going nowhere and you’re holding onto the last shred of your empathy. You just want him back with you.

“You got to go out there, Ten. You went to college, you went to New York. You got to go out there and live your dreams, for whatever it was worth, while I’m stuck in this nothing town. Forever.”

“That’s… that’s not true,” he says, voice breaking. “You were saving up for college. We would live in the same city, in the same apartment with the cats and the hot pink curtains and a coffee maker—oh god, I’ve ruined it.”

It’s painful. You don’t know what to say. If this were a movie, the beautiful, romantic kind, you’d be confessing your long-kept feelings. But you don’t know. You don’t know anything about anything. It’s been a year and he’s changed in a way you don’t know and you can’t throw it onto him like this. This isn’t a movie, and you don’t have a script. Your practised words are forgotten as soon as they reach the tip of your tongue.

People change, and you’re holding onto someone he’s already buried. He’s not in love with you; teenage love is shaky, wobbly at the foundation. He misses the years, not you. You’ve known him your whole life and yet a year’s difference makes you see things differently. You were lonely without him. You were lonely when you had to keep yourself from calling him, when you finally decided to stop sending daily texts, when you couldn’t find the same comfort in any of your other friends. You hurt him and now, you have to face it.

You pick wilting flowers at an overgrown garden.

No, even if it isn’t you, you want him. You want him and him only, the years be damned. The past pales in comparison to what is now.

“I’m in love with you,” you blurt. “I was just shocked last night because I didn’t think you were in love with me.”

“You’re not in love with me,” he counters. “You’ve been in love with so many people but none of them were me.”

“You. It’s you—oh my god, it was always you.”

Ten glances at his untouched cup, yet undecided on what to do with his fingers when they stop tapping against the bright red plastic table abruptly.

“So what? So what if it was me? I don’t know what it’s like to play that part.”

You breathe out. There’s a silence between the two of you, one which you remember hanging stars upon. Now it's quiet in a way that has nothing to do with astronomy, or art, or music or anything, really. It’s empty. Like every other silence.

“I loved you,” you whisper in an attempt that is more delirious than for closure. “Do you really not know what that’s like?”

Ten shakes his head. “I… I don’t.”

The memories of him smiling under the sun, only memories keep your tears from brimming up. There was meant to be closure. There was meant to be an explanation. You were supposed to be closing that door you opened into each other. Ten looks at your shaking hands and for a moment, you think he might even reach out and warm them up with his sunlit ones. You press them to your face and breathe into them.

“You brought me all the way here to lie to me?”

Ten furrows his eyebrows.

“I’m not lying—I can’t care about you. You know that, right? I’ll ruin your life. Like I’ve ruined mine.”

You laugh, partly in exasperation and partly as an attempt to alleviate the pain in your chest.

“You’re my boy. I know you better than anything else I know.”

“Don’t- Don’t do that. Don’t make me want something more.”

"Why would you kiss me?" You bite down your lip to stop yourself from crying.

Ten seems at a loss for words, looking at you with parted lips and guilty eyes.

"I love you. I'm sorry."

With your eyes downcast, you take a shaky breath. It's now or never. Never, never, never. The word chimes like wedding bells and you think for a moment, to lie. If you pretend, if you act, you'll live it out. He cannot stay and you cannot leave. What a ridiculous pair you are.

You squeeze your eyes shut, get up and lean over the table to place a kiss against Ten's mouth. You pull away with reluctance, looking at the quiet surprise in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," you whisper. "I got… I got caught in the moment."

Ten stares at you soundlessly, mouth moving and yet no words come out. Instead, he runs his fingers through your hair before placing his hand on your cheek and leans in again. There's a red flush over his cheeks and it makes you feel at ease.

"I didn't want to hold you back," you say after parting. "Or at least, that's what I told myself. But this year without you has been so painful."

Ten doesn't say anything.

"I… I didn't know what I felt and- and I was so scared… I didn't mean to hurt you. I hate that I did."

“I was afraid,” he says, breathing out like he was holding it in. “I was so afraid you wouldn’t care if I came back.”

Time treats everything poorly. This time, you’ll try your best to win against it. Ten breaks into a wide, relieved smile and you laugh, rubbing at the tears that collected. God, you were so afraid you wouldn't ever be able to talk to each other anymore. Every room you’ve been in without Ten has been so empty that you had stopped opening doors at all. The coffee is hot and tastes better than ever.

You dream of something as ridiculous as the love you feel for Ten.

There's a cat in the sky, made of stars and with a booming, deep voice—and you, you are little and insignificant on a forgotten rooftop. It is serene, in quiet contemplation, and you are looking at it like a neglected child at its mother. You ask something without words and it responds without words.

All of sudden, the image disappears and you find yourself in a garden, picking flowers. The clothes you wear are not yours, the face you wear is not yours. But Ten, you'd recognise him anywhere, any time, in another lifetime.

You could see the clear distinction between the two of you however. You wore robes of royalty, the auspicious gold embroidery glistening, and he, that of a performing artist in quiet sage green. The blue irises that grew around you paid no heed to your colours and you had the thought that you should be like them. Vivid, smiling and never alone.

Ten greets you with a smile first and then stretches out his arms. You run to him, with enough force to knock the two of you onto the soft, grassy ground. No one will find the two of you here, in this flower bed. You remember thinking that royalty puts on just as much a show as theatre actors.

You didn't have to remember all of it to know that the story was a tragedy, carefully crafted by divine writers and painters. It was cruel, as is every writer's hand. You see him last under a beautiful sunset before an execution, the words ‘please’ on his lips and no hint of resentment in his smile. It was unlike him. It was so unlike him.

You hug yourself. He shouldn’t have forgiven you so easily. It takes you a few moments to come back to your senses; this is not you. That person in your dreams wasn’t you—why did you have to feel all that pain? That person in your dream watched their lover die—no, let their lover die as though discarding a messed up sketch. Cruel. It was so cruel.

The burning idea sprouts in your mind that it was the original script. That perhaps you were cruel and he was not and it’s been that way since forever. That if you don’t do something about it, you’ll be the villain once more. It's as scary to be young as it is lively—and not for once, did you ever think that villains were children too.

ACT III: HAPPINESS

act iii scene i.

If the world were to end tomorrow, Ten would spend tonight dancing with you. He says it so easily that you forget to tease him about it.

“Not like that,” he instructs, eyebrows furrowed. “Do this.”

“I am doing this.” You huff, crossing your arms.

“No, you’re not—holy shit, your arms are made of lead.”

You punch him in the shoulder and he stumbles, losing his balance. He sits down on his bed, leaning back on his arms and laughs. You join him and sit down on the fuzzy rug. He gets off immediately to sit beside you.

“I mean, you’re not that bad,” he says with a shrug.

You mimic his statement, rolling your eyes and he attacks your side with an unannounced bout of tickling. The last time you did this, you were a foot shorter and no high school dating rumours were flying around. The last time you did this, you didn’t end up kissing, limbs entangled with each other. December feels like June.

Ten pulls away from you, hovering over to kiss you once again before kissing turns into giggling which turns into laughter.

“I like this," you say quietly.

"Kissing me?" He asks with a sly grin.

"It's actually a little disappointing. Thought you'd be a ten at kissing."

"Atrocious. Disgusting. Vile. Never say that to me again."

You stick your tongue out at him and he does the same, the afternoon torpor settling in heavy as you cuddle into each other. It’s nostalgic almost but at the same time, so very new. You want to talk to him for hours and hours but when the hours end, it never feels enough. An ending is what you despise. Your thoughts meander.

“I had a nightmare,” you confess suddenly.

There’s a very brief pause. Before Ten even says anything, his arms reach out, pulling you into him. It’s warm and you smile.

“Was it your own face you saw?”

“Fuck you. You ruined the moment.”

“We were having a moment?”

You elbow him in the gut and he lets out a grunt of pain, the two of you moving away from each other just to glare. Ten caves first, sliding closer to you and placing his palm against your cheek.

“Can we resume our moment?” he asks, eyes crinkling when he smiles.

You press your forehead to his, your breathing in perfect coordination. This feels easy. This feels right. You pull away and look at him, the silence encasing your moment with him.

“I saw you in it. I… I lost you in it.” You bite your lower lip, avoiding his gaze.

“Hey. It was just a bad dream. I’m right here.” Ten draws closer, his breath mingling with yours and the warmth seeps into you just enough to forget the cold night.

“You know what would cheer me up from a nightmare?” You nudge him.

“If you say visiting the graveyard—god, fuck, you’re gonna say visiting the graveyard. My suggestion is that you see a therapist.”

“I would if I had the money,” you retort.

Ten shrugs before furrowing his eyebrows. “Are we actually going to the graveyard? You know there are like graves there.”

“That’s… why it’s called a graveyard.”

“Don’t get smart with me, you failed seventh grade English.”

“You failed sixth grade math, Ten. Sixth grade. They teach you like fractions and shit then.”

“Do I look like I need to add three-fourths and one-eighths ever in my life?”

You shake your head before getting up with a burst of energy, and pick up your jacket from his bed.

“Let’s go! Let’s go!” You start to chant at Ten until he reluctantly gets up. The sun is quite far from setting down yet and everyone knows the perfect time to visit a grave is twilight. Maybe the stone will give your life enough perspective to ease your anxious thoughts.

The town cemetery is located by the bed of dahlias which have withered in the seasonal cycle of life and death. There’s a light breeze and your jacket is just enough to withstand it. The sky is orange and pink and the graveyard doesn’t seem as looming as it does in the dead of night (which you know because you’ve visited at two in the morning on a stupid bet with Johnny and somehow Ten was the one scared shitless). You’ve heard stories of the soldiers who were buried here, the women who led the first revolution and everyone else who never got to grace history books. You’ve never enjoyed history much but you can’t gainsay that it puts everything into perspective.

Nothing else matters at the wedding altar and at the grave.

Ten makes a face at the iron gates of the cemetery. “Okay. We’ve had our adventure. Can we please go get our evening snacks?”

“I love it when you’re antsy, Ten.”

He gives you a sardonic smile. “And I like it better when we’re in my bedroom.”

You gasp dramatically, placing your hand in front of your mouth lightly. “That’s quite scandalous of you, good sir.”

He smiles, eyes crinkling. “I consider myself something of a modern man, you see?”

You skip over the steps to the gates and do a curtsy before gesturing to the entrance. He complies with a sigh of reluctance and lets you take his hand as you pull him in.

A loud voice startles the two of you and Ten smacks his mouth before he can scream and embarrass himself.

“What business do you have here, trespassers?” The voice echoes through the graveyard.

You look around at the trees and squint at what seems to be some children wearing masks and giggling to themselves. You roll your eyes. Johnny told you some of the town kids were mucking about near the graveyard to spook passersby.

“You really should get back home for dinner, kids,” you say, crossing your arms.

“Silence, trespasser! You will answer our questions to pass.”

Ten bites back a laugh. “Alright, kids. Shoot.”

“Are the two of you criminals married?”

Ten wrinkles his nose. “Do we look that old?”

“Okay! Next question. Did the two of you ever… do it?”

“What?” you ask, tilting your head.

Ten groans. “You can say sex, you know? Don’t be pussies.”

You elbow him in the side and he yelps.

“Those are kids,” you whisper.

“I think they’re old enough if they’re asking,” he whispers back.

“No,” you answer the same time he answers “Yes”.

“What?” You look at him in surprise.

He shrugs, somewhat guilty. “New York,” he responds in a meek voice. “You know?”

You snicker before it turns to laughter. “Why do you look like that? It’s not a crime to have sex—how the fuck did you even get some though?”

“It’s called having sex appeal. Ever heard of it?”

You roll your eyes, opening your mouth to say something when one of the kids clears his throat.

“Okay! You may pass.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “You really just the wanted to ask us about sex, didn’t you?”

“Let’s go, boys!” The kid declares before stopping abruptly. “And girl.”

A group of kids emerges from behind the trees and flock to a hole in the stone wall, laughing amongst themselves as they run out.

“Wow. Kids these days, huh?” Ten says.

“When we were their age, we convinced Yukhei to poke a beehive.”

“Okay, we were asshole kids but no one ever really told us bees were deadly.”

You walk further into the graveyard, beelining towards the same graves you visit often. They’re unnamed but they died sometime in the nineteenth century. Time passes in a way that is hard to comprehend—all these people and stories are never remembered and time is the only witness. Perspective is a luxury to those who have the time to look.

“Why do you like coming here?” Ten asks quietly, eyeing the gravestones with an unreadable look in his eyes.

“For perspective,” you answer truthfully.

He hums, a somewhat understanding note in his voice.

“They only lived for twenty-four years,” you note.

“The world ends too soon sometimes.”

“Kind of sucks.”

“Really sucks.”

The wind is cold when it passes the two of you by. Ten shivers and zips his jacket before checking up on you, fixing your jacket to cover you better.

“When I leave this place, I hope I have a nice farewell,” you whisper.

Ten raises his eyebrow. “Don’t you want it to be an awful, everyone’s-crying sort of affair?”

“No,” you respond, giving him a confused look.

“I want at least one person to be crying,” he replies, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“That’s kind of—wait a minute.” You glare at him. “You don’t have to use that against me. I wasn’t crying crying.”

“I’m not! I mean it. Like, I want to mean something to someone.”

You draw near enough to link your arms, sighing at the warmth emanating.

“And you’re lying. I know you sobbed right into the pillow like a dramatic ass Disney princess.”

“You’re the one with a flair for drama.” You chuckle.

Ten makes a reluctant sound of agreement, crossing his arms. As he looks at the graves, there’s an expression on his face you can’t quite fathom. It could be mourning—but the graves are nameless, or it could be pity—but he believes that pity is not a positive emotion to feel. You want to ask but something keeps you from it. Something tells you that the answer won’t be pleasant for either of you.

“I hope I cry too,” he whispers. “When I leave and the curtain falls and the world ends.”

You look at him, pondering.

“When I leave,” he begins again, “I want it to hurt. When everything changes, I want it to hurt bad. Then I know it meant something.”

You slip your hand into his and squeeze. “If it means anything, you know I’ll cry if you leave.”

Ten laughs. “Yeah. So when you cried, was it the ugly snot cry or the silently sobbing kind of cry?”

“Fuck off.”

He opens his mouth to retort but gets a full kiss on the mouth instead, good enough to make him forget it. It’s a nice thing to get used to. If time permits, you could do everything together forever.

You return at twilight, grabbing some snacks and arguing whose Netflix account to use and the sun sets before you come to an agreement but it’s not winter anymore inside his room. In fact, it doesn’t feel like winter at all till you look outside and see the naked trees and darker skies, and you remember when you decided last year that you don’t like winter.

Before you can have a change of heart, you turn to him with sparkling eyes.

He smiles before you even say anything, reading your face as easily as the back of his hand. “You have good news? Or, like, a gift?” Chuckling in breaks, he runs his fingers through your hair.

“I just wanted to talk about our future.”

“Hm?” He seems a little surprised.

“I’m sure we’ll work something out for the both of us. I have faith in you. And in us.”

Ten’s smile falters but he doesn’t let it fall. “I’m glad you do.”

His ringtone startles the two of you just as you lean in, Ten muttering curses at the device. Pausing for a bit when he takes out his phone, he signals you that he needs a minute and leaves you alone in his room.

Nothing much has changed. There's his cluttered ash wood desk with sketchbooks of varying sizes and colours, shelves with small plushies and, you notice carefully, the butterfly pin you stole. Beside it is the panda soft toy you had found at the side of the road walking back from school and felt so bad, you had "adopted" it. You let out a chuckle.

“Ten?” you call, holding the little panda soft toy.

Ten paces outside his room, speaking in a hush. His features are tense, shoulders stiff and eyes focused when he talks to the caller. Noticing you, his eyes soften for a bit and he makes his way towards you.

“I’ll- I’ll talk to you later,” he speaks sharply into the phone.

“Who’s that?” you ask, walking up to him.

“Sicheng,” he replies briskly.

“Oh.” You remember the doll in your hand and pick it up to show him. “Remember how we got this?”

He smiles but something is amiss in his eyes. “Of course I remember.”

Whatever it is, it must not be important. After all, he’s your best friend and best friends tell each other everything. Morning will come and everything will be alright.

The night is cold and the moon is missing. The clothes you wear are not your own once again. This dream begins when the sun has just set and you can taste bitter defeat, but of what battle you don’t know yet.

All you know is that there is a war and you are caught in the crossfire. It hurts; you can’t feel your limbs anymore and another injury won’t matter anymore. Maybe this is the only life you won in.

No one dies in a way that matters. No one dies for anything at all. It just happens and that is a truth lying within the reach of the universe. Yet then again, when you find your last breath escaping you as you hold hands with the love of your life, you think there must be some meaning to it. You’re only twenty-four and you will be buried in a nameless grave for a war that was the fault of neither of you.

It dawns on you the moment you wake up, brushing away the tears on your cheeks. The universe is forgetting you, and the universe is being forgotten, until there is nothing left to be remembered.

All you can think then is that you will miss Ten in the next life, and in the next and the next.

act iii scene ii.

Ten has to tell you. He knows. He knows how the story ends.

But he’s afraid. He didn’t know how long he’d been walking facing forward till he’d turned around just to find you gone. New York was fun and he made new friends but it’s difficult to be anywhere without you. You’ve been attached at the hip for so long, it’s become strange to be apart.

Ten thinks about the call. The director was very particular about his role and chances come by as rare as diamonds. Ten breathes out heavy in annoyance, covering his eyes with his forearm. He loves sunny winter mornings and this is the worst one he’s ever experienced. He can hear his mom cooking downstairs, the sound soothing and he groans, running his fingers through his hair.

He should tell you. He knows he should tell you. But fear never walks in on stage with full gusto, it creeps in, slithers in till he feels a shadow behind him on stage and suddenly, he can’t see the lights anymore. Ten is afraid. He is afraid of losing his sense of self to the millions of people he’s played, and to your vibrant world of flowers and colours. You are always front stage centre. You are at the bottom of everything and he can’t let himself fall deep enough. He’s not enough.

Ten turns to face the collection of DVDs on his shelf, untouched since he'd left. What did he start performing for again? Was it the time you and him pretended to be pirates in his room, his bed your gallant ship, or the time he watched his first movie on a sweltering hot summer day, or the time he sang to you the first time (it was a birthday song remix, made by Ten himself). Surely, it was for something beautiful and not for something like greed. At that time, he thought that maybe if he stole enough lives and stuffed it into the gaping hole, it would sate his envy of the people around him. The bright vibrant colours, he made his own and yet still, he feels like a thief with his nimble feet and a stash of paint bottles in his arms. He's not satisfied at all.

It was a sunlit morning and Ten thought to himself, wouldn’t it be nice if he could paint with all the colours of the rainbow? You, who are so full of vibrance, couldn’t understand this epiphany of his.

"You keep getting on my nerves," he mutters in this empty room of his. "Everything you do gets on my nerves."

Ten decides that he’ll tell you this evening. After all, best friends tell each other everything. The theatre means the world to him but the whole world is out there, ready to be his stage. Eventually, this loneliness will turn into a performance and he’ll be grasping at identities trying to find familiarity. He will take his masks off over and over again, and he knows he’ll still be wearing one. He wants to greet you with his real face.

The world spins at the rate of a thousand miles an hour. It never stops, and that must mean everyone on it can’t stop either.

The crows are singing a song, or talking amongst themselves. You can never know. The song is dyed red as the evening, and with a splash of purple. It’s the season to miss flowers and warm hands and the sweet taste of ice cream. You don't know why but the "let's go to the gardens" text from Ten gave you the most awful feeling, much like the morning after your nightmares.

“I have to go back to New York.”

You look up at Ten from the park bench beside the dahlia fields. The flowers are asleep, not in bloom until next autumn.

“What?”

“I got a call… from someone I know.”

Your first reaction is to smile wide and jump up. “That’s great! You’re not jobless anymore.” You laugh.

But then the corner of your lips twitch and your smile drops. The word ‘goodbye’ hangs at the tip of your tongue and you look at him, slightly perplexed. Ten, who looks at you with so much kindness, will never understand this envy of yours.

“When… when do you come back?”

“I don’t- I don’t know. It depends on how well I do.”

You laugh despite the heavy feeling settling in your chest. “That- Let’s hope your acting is shitty then, hm?”

Ten frowns. “This isn't a joke. For once in your life, can you look at me with sincerity?”

You grit your teeth at his words.

“I’m trying to lighten the mood, god dammit,” you murmur bitterly.

“And I’m saying you don’t have to.”

There’s something looming over the top of your heads, something eerie like a clock that never stops ticking or a clock that never ticks.

“Can I kiss you?” you ask, surrender in your voice already.

If you kiss him where you hurt him, will everything be alright? Can you grow the flowers he likes over his scars? Flowers… flowers—which were his favourite again? Irises or daisies? It must have been the prior; you’ve glanced over a hundred times at the endless fields of sleeping blue irises in his sketchbook. And yet, you doubt. Were those flowers chrysanthemums? You’re grasping onto memories and your knuckles are starting to hurt.

Ten looks at you with a gaze that is of the past. He looks at you like he’s mourning, like he’s keeping something grave from you. So you lean in, your lips brushing against his before you can kiss him fully. You want to feel him and for him to feel you, the idea of a relationship foreign and close to you as ever. Even so, you feel like a ghost as you run your fingertips over his skin and through his hair. He knows how to kiss you, how to hold you—and he’s known you for years.

Ten pulls apart for a few moments, breaths weaving into each other. It’s only five centimeters between your lips but it’s still five centimetres. You don’t know if you were meant to be apart or if you were not. The show must go on.

You brush the hair from his face, a lingering smile on your face from the kiss and the way his features align so perfectly. It’s easier to avoid his gaze that way.

“I’m tired,” he whispers. “I’m so tired. I feel like my skin is losing its grip on my bones. Everything’s falling apart.”

You hum, choking up at the sound of his voice. Soft and yet, so heavy.

He takes a sharp, shaky breath. “I don’t want to go.”

Forever is the sweetest lie you’ve told each other.

“You’re going to go,” you pronounce the words into realization. “You’re going to go away again. And I’m going to be right here.”

Your broken heart is making it much more difficult than it should be.

“Don’t go,” you whisper hoarsely. Maybe if this time you didn’t lie. Maybe you’ll be his number one, his lead finally.

His breathing gets erratic, and he takes a step back to cover his face with his flushed hands. It’s painful to watch him this way and you want to take your words back. But you knew. You knew what the words would result in, what the words would grow into. You feel cruel.

“I… I can’t give up,” he says finally, “I can’t- I can’t. I’m sorry, oh god. Why can’t you come with me? Why do I have to go back alone?”

You swallow, your eyes downcast.

“I’m not going to wait,” you say finally. “We should… we should stop now. It’s been long enough for us to go our own ways.”

Ten doesn’t move, at a loss for words.

“You… I'm sorry,” he says, choking on his own words.

Your lips tremble and you wipe at your eyes. He cups your face, thumbs swiping away the tears before you can muster enough strength to push him away. You’re a complete mess, in a way you haven’t been before. Even now, he’s the only one you can face.

“We’re not,” you say, regaining some control over your tongue, “We’re not supposed to be like this. Do you think we would even be friends if we didn’t grow up here together?”

“What- What does that matter?” He furrows his eyebrows, drawing nearer.

“I’m saying that everything could just be a coincidence and maybe… maybe things should just end sometimes.”

You just want to kiss him, in the way a romantic story ends in a sweet kiss and it’s a happy ending.

“You don’t mean that,” he whispers. “But if you want distance, I’m giving you thousands of miles of it.”

You clench your jaw. “Don’t blame me for pushing you away.”

Ten throws up his arms in exasperation. “I’m not blaming—why are you so defensive all of a sudden?”

“You made me that way,” you answer, pitch low. Your throat hurts.

Ten looks at you with disappointment in his eyes, baby pink lips in a frown you hate. "I'm sorry. I have to leave."

You nod and let the words 'see you tomorrow' slip the same time 'goodbye' slips his. He turns his back and walks forwards as he always has, and you look in from the same place as you always have.

Eventually, you get the energy to go home. You greet your colourful room with the same look you always have before something catches your eye. The colour of your room mostly comes from the polaroids stuck to your wall—you and Ten at your high school graduation dancing to Nicki Minaj, Yukhei and you looking done holding the caricatures Ten painted of you, Sicheng and Ten and you after your first theatre performance together. There are so many smiles that you end laughing, a little crazy with the sound. Perhaps spring isn't as far as you think it is. Perhaps you will be okay.

Everything has an end. You know that. It hurts so fucking bad.

Ten was right. Because it hurts this bad, you know it meant something now. It meant the whole world to you. Winter tumbles upon you at full force even as you hold autumn dearly in your arms.

This time, you close your eyes to find yourself in a field of dahlias. The dream is meandering with colours and sounds so quiet that you feel like you’re stuck in time. Then a loud vibration resounds throughout the field; it is not a field at all.

You are sitting atop a bed of stars, in the belly of something much larger than you are. There is a place in the universe for everyone but you cannot find yourself in it.

So you sit at the places you’ve always known, at gardens and children’s parks, waiting till your hair turns grey and your skin starts to wrinkle. Time flows around you, faster with each second but you sit so still that you're not breathing anymore. You're so jealous of those who move, dance and play. Does it have to be this painful? You don't want to be all these people in your dreams. You want to paint your own mask.

The world is so busy and you are completely still. You think of sunshine in New York and how he must be loving it and for a moment, your plastered lips quirk upward.

When you wake up, Ten is on a flight to New York with a text that reads: "I'll come back. I promise." The sunset after a farewell—even you understand the beauty of it and so, you watch him chase his dreams into the sunset.

act iii scene iii.

You know an ending scene when you see one. It’s the only scene you didn’t end up sleeping through. But this doesn’t feel like one, no matter how deep the despair runs through you. This third act love was never supposed to work out and yet, something is amiss.

Ten doesn’t come back even when the billboards proudly show his face and he’s the star of the show. In your opinion, he always has been. But people get comfortable in the present, sink their feet into it, and when they do, they forget the past.

The world spins at a thousand miles per hour but nothing seems to move for you. Everything stops and life goes on.

epilogue.

Your youth starts to run out.

Sorrow grows into anger, then into resentment. You’re not sure what you hate so desperately but you hate it nonetheless. You’re pissed and you don’t know what to do with yourself except wake up shaking and wanting to shout and cry at the world. You were supposed to have Ten by your side even then. Even when you’re against the world, he was supposed to be there. Now you’re all alone in a world that’s crashing and burning, in a world of your own making and in a world that is no longer in the palm of your hand.

You wish you were an angrier person, you wish you could curse and scream and fight as easily as they do in movies. At least he didn't make a villain out of you when he left first.

You don’t really have nightmares anymore though. When you have nothing to lose, you start to fear less. You tend to a little garden of your own making after Mr. Yang passes away. There’s a quiet funeral and a will written with your name on it. You did spend most of your time there after Ten left. It’s your flower shop now and you can tend to whichever flowers you want to keep alive.

Sometime in your late twenties, you get a call from an old friend. You meet Doyoung at a coffee shop near the college he went to, and he tells you he got your number from Yukhei that night you met. He says he’s glad your number hasn’t changed in all these years—he found it going through his contacts. You find it cute the way he becomes flustered when trying to explain himself. He’s a lawyer now, finished all those tough years to complete his dreams.

It makes you smile. You think that dreams shouldn’t be kept in a bottle but your shelves are full.

You go on dates at the cutest new cafes and the most ambient restaurants, sometimes to amusement parks so you can laugh at his fear of scary rides. It feels like having a friend once again and you cheer up for the better.

But Doyoung doesn’t understand history the way you do. He doesn’t understand a lot of things—but it’s not something you expect anyway. He’s rich and he doesn’t know what small towns are like. You think you can be in love again. He proposes to you on a yacht and you nod, paralyzed from your fear of the ocean. Your parents are so happy for you that for a brief time, you feel happy too in the shadow of their joy.

You don’t visit your hometown anymore after the wedding. You don’t visit theatres at all.

Sometimes you remember the night at the rooftop after the party with Ten and smile. But it was one night, one thing you did in a lifetime of nights and things you did. It dawns on you just then that loneliness makes you fragile, fragile enough to push people away instead.

Every time you close your eyes, you’re still dancing with him on the rooftop below the stars that are yet to fade from your memory. You now pick wilting flowers at a wilted garden.

“A play?” you ask, confounded. Doyoung has never been one for theatre.

"Your mom said you liked theatre," Doyoung answers, eyes inquisitive.

"Did she now?"

He smiles. "If you've grown out of it—"

"No. No, I've always wanted to watch a show on Broadway."

"That's settled then."

You start to understand the meaning of this place to Ten. You haven't called him in years and you didn't keep in touch after the first year. Life was as busy for him as it was still for you and you understand some of it now. After all, who would ever want to leave this place?

Being a part of the audience runs a chill up your back, with certain memories drawing to the surface of your thoughts as you sink into the seat. It's a popular musical but you can't say you've ever heard of it. Time runs differently in your little bubble.

It hurts just about as much as you expect it to. Watching Ten on stage hurts so bad you almost look away. The nostalgia scratches at your throat, filling your head with memories you shouldn't be entertaining anymore. You should've kept in touch. You should've done something. You were friends before everything else.

All you want from him now is forgiveness. You’re fine with loving him quietly. You’re fine with loving him quietly. You’re fine with—

You start to cry before you can do anything about it. Doyoung doesn’t notice beside you, dozed off already to the soft orchestral music.

You must seem delirious, mourning as though you’ve buried a loved one. With a shaky breath, you force yourself to look. It is the tombstone of your childhood love that stands on stage. You were rash. You were so, so young and rash. Your lips tremble again and you cry, chest rising and falling as you remember something so forgotten that it seems a dream, something so warm that’s now six feet under in the cold ground. You mourn.

But he seems happy—and that's all you ever really cared about. That's all you should have cared about.

The play ends on a wonderful musical note and you find yourself in better composure. Shaking Doyoung awake by the shoulder, you look at him expectantly. He seems partly embarrassed to have dozed off and partly apologetic.

"You want to meet Ten?" Doyoung asks quietly.

You blink in surprise.

"You grew up in the same town, right?"

"Yeah… Yeah, we did."

Doyoung smiles. "We went to college at the same place."

"Oh, I know. Most everyone from my town goes to college there actually."

Doyoung hums.

"He invited me, actually," he says after a while.

"Oh."

It hurts only a little that he didn't invite you first. Did all those years mean nothing beyond a little romance? If you were years younger, you could be chiding him for it. If he were years younger, he would greet you with a Cheshire cat smile.

Backstage smells of sweat. A little perfume and powder but mostly sweat. You know that already. It's just that even the backstage here is grand.

Ten looks as pretty as ever, even with half the makeup off his face. He looks as pretty as billboard posters, where he was meant to be, and in smiling Instagram posts and articles about how perfect his smile is. He's pretty but in a different sort of way.

Ten doesn't seem surprised. In fact, he greets the two of you with a poster smile.

"Doyoung," he says first. "(Name). I hope, no wait. You guys better have liked that."

Doyoung laughs. "You'll bully me into liking it even if I didn't."

Ten rolls his eyes. "Law makes you so boring. Or maybe you were always boring."

Doyoung sighs, shaking his head. "Not everyone wants to be the life of the party. There's quite a bunch of wild stories about you on the internet."

Ten snorts. "I don't know why but you saying 'the internet' makes you sound thirty years older."

"There's no arguing with you, is there?"

"Learnt from the best."

You clear your throat. "If the two of you are done with your homoerotic banter…"

Doyoung chokes the same time Ten makes a gagging sound. What the two of them have in common is that they easily become flustered around you.

"I'm going to go wash my face." Doyoung excuses himself, exiting the backstage.

In any other time or place, it would be fine being just the two of you.

"Ten," you acknowledge. "You look good."

"I always do."

You roll your eyes. "You don't have to mask everything with humour."

"Like you did?"

You fall silent.

“Does it hurt?” you ask.

“It does,” he whispers before raising his voice something more audible. “When I look at your—our old pictures, it does.”

"You've kept them?"

"Of course."

You look at your feet. The reality settles. You’re not going back to the way things were. You’re married to another man. Ten’s not in love with you anymore. If you had taken the step forward back then, if you had kissed him before he took that step back—would things have turned out differently?

The stars will now gaze at lonely rooftops and empty flower gardens—an audience you never wished to entertain. But now, you're glad to have been part of his play, part of the play you made together.

“Are you happy these days?” he asks. There is no malice, no resentment in his voice.

“Almost,” you answer. “There’s just one thing missing.”

To ask for forgiveness does not mean erasure. You can't move on by letting it go and pretending it was never in the palm of your hand.

“I’m sorry it wasn’t me,” you say quietly, rubbing your forearm.

Ten smiles. “We were a little confused, I think. We wanted to be loved, appreciated and found the easiest way.”

You smile back. “Yeah. It was always easiest with you.”

Ten pauses, looking around with a familiar feline look in his eyes before whispering, “So, Doyoung? Really?”

You straighten, crossing your arms. “He’s really nice. And he’s always asking me how I am, what I ate, and he buys me all the soft toys I want. And he’s a better kisser, by the way.”

Ten places a hand over his heart in mock indignation. “Now, we both know that’s not true.”

You roll your eyes before a short giggle turns into chuckling into laughter, and the two of you find yourself with smiling eyes, the look of childhood on your faces and memories unkempt.

It is better to grieve than to never have loved anyone enough to.

It doesn’t hurt anymore but maybe it stopped hurting a long time ago. But it meant something to you, meant so much to you and that's all that makes sense now.

notes.

the words to the play at the beginning of act i scene i is taken from tang xianzu’s preface to his own play, the peony pavilion, however they are not exact quotations. the graveyard scene and the “when everything is gone, i want it to hurt” dialogue are inspired by indie game night in the woods by infinite fall studio and i love that game pls check it out if you have the time and money!!

238 notes · View notes

morkleemelon · 4 years

Text

off the ice || chapter 7: finish strong

previous || m.list || playlist

pairing: college hockey player!mark x college figure skater!reader

genre: fluff, humor, college au, sports au

word count: 5.5k

warnings: swearing

author’s note: it’s finally here, the final chapter :’) I’m both sad and relieved as this is my longest written work ever. huge shout out to my beta readers @skiimmiilk and @writing-frog for sticking with me and making this story SO much better. also, please watch this clip which is the choreography being performed in this chapter. I own none of it or the song it is being performed to! with a full heart, I hope you enjoy chapter 7, finish strong (copyright morkleemelon, all rights reserved)

Soft clusters of snowflakes drift all around, brushed up from their pine-tree-seats, swirling a playful circle around the couple sitting by the lake side before settling in their hair. The early morning cold doesn’t seem to bother them as they sit still, mitten in mitten. It’s picturesque, pristine.

You don’t have to be able to see yourself to know this.

“We should head down to warm up soon,” Mark whispers, cozying into your side.

You hum, leaning your head on his shoulder, feeling the stray snowflakes melt against your cheek. The two of you had come out to your favorite spot to calm your pre-competition nerves, agreeing to stay until the sun reached the tip of the frosted trees. Undoubtedly, from any angle you so choose to look from, that point has been far surpassed and the happy sun beams gold upon the winter landscape.

Bob Ross would have loved this.

“We should,” you agree reluctantly. Giving him a peck on the cheek, Mark shudders at the cold feeling of your lips on his skin. He crinkles his reddened nose, but doesn’t move to stop your second, your third.

Laughter carries across the frozen expanse as the two of you race back to his car.

One hand on the wheel and the other in yours, Mark does his best to strike up different conversations to distract you. You squeeze his hand in appreciation - if anything, he’s the one who should be more nervous for tonight, being a first time performer and a hockey player and all.

You guess it does make sense since he’s used to being in the spotlight all the time, especially from having biweekly games in front of similar crowds. You weren’t exactly a stranger to being in the spotlight either, but the winter festival at Seoul University tends to be a huge commotion, gathering crowds from all around the city. Families, children, recent graduates to senior alumni all come to fill the campus to the brim and there’s no doubt you’ll have quite the audience to impress.

But it’s thanks to Mark that you have fortunately developed a healthy sense of self-confidence, perhaps even enough to convince yourself that there’s a fifty percent chance your performance will go without catastrophe. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll finish the routine without breaking your face in front of 15,000 people.

You managed to sneak a look at the competition sign-ups earlier, and unsurprisingly, are the only participant who will be competing with a non-figure skating partner.

Nonetheless, you study your boyfriend’s face unbeknownst to him. The eyes you grew to love so much, trained on the road in front of him. The slope of his nose and the way it connects to his pouty lips, everything, all the way down to the natural determination rooted in his soul makes you have faith in him despite the disadvantaged odds.

Night after night, practice session after practice session, you worked your butts off to perfect the pair skate choreography the best you could.

After the night that Hillary and her accomplice, Seojung, were caught and sent to jail, the two of you had several deep talks, ultimately vowing to keep no more secrets from each other. Whatever it is, good or bad, you agreed that the other would want to know.

Your relationship flourished as you were no longer held back by your anxieties. Public dates, hockey games, sleeping over at each others’ dorms, you let yourself fall one hundred percent into happiness, unfazed by the rest of the world.

Like a dream, the rest of your life slowly fell into place too.

Yuna is doing a lot better. She’s abandoned the crutches, opting to power walk around in only the boot and cast. Ten follows her around like a puppy, carrying her bag and her crutches in case she ever wants them. You’re so proud of her and you’re really glad she has someone like Ten around to dote on her. Every girl should have a simp.

Lisa and Hope were not happy (to say the least) that they did not get to join the gang at ‘the police station party’. Their words, not yours. Lisa threatened to go to the Seoul Police Department to throw hands with Hillary only to find out the two Lovelee’s presidents have been moved elsewhere, to a more isolated confinement, for ‘bad behavior’.

Not my problem.

The court date approached quickly and the jury ruled the two girls would spend their lives in prison without bail. Additionally, the school dean, more afraid of a lawsuit than anything like student lives, abolished the Lovelees fanclub and updated school policy to criminalize such stalking behavior. The eight of you celebrated the amazing news with lots of champagne (without salt this time) and whilst incredibly tipsy, Jeno told Lisa that he liked her.

You don’t want to get into how loud the screaming was in the suite as Lisa grabbed his face and kissed him. The most efficient thing to do is to reveal what all of you received afterwards: four noise complaints.

Mark pulls into the athletic center lot before you know it. He senses your persisting nervousness and turns towards you, enveloping your other hand in his larger ones.

“You are,” he states, shaking your joined hands up and down with every word, “the most beautiful, wonderful, talented woman I’ve ever met”.

You flush in embarrassment, dropping your gaze, but Mark dips his face down to keep eye-contact. He looks so goofy and you can’t help but laugh.

“I’m serious, babe,” he says through a smile, “nobody else here deserves to win more than you do. You made our choreography all by yourself and even taught me, a guy who can’t make eggs, how to figure skate. We’ll do our very best, y/n, so whatever happens, know that I’m proud of you and I love you very much”.

An ‘aw’ draws from your lips and you lean forward to press them sweetly against his.

People walk past your parked car, but you don’t pay them any notice.

Actually-

“Mark, I think we really have to go warm up”. You motion to the other skaters entering the open stadium doors.

Grabbing all of your gear, the two of you rush inside to start warming up.

“There are eight pairs and we’re going fifth,” you report to Mark, checking the performance schedule expertly.

“Uh, okay. Yes… is that good?”.

“It’s whatever. We just need to show the audience everything we have,” you say while smushing his cheeks in between your palms.

“Okay”. His voice comes out adorably from his face being sandwiched in your hands.

Other skaters look on judgmentally, but you stare calmly back until they look away. The music from the routine of the current skaters on the ice ends.

“Calling pair five, Mark Lee and y/n to the ice for rehearsal. Mark Lee and y/n to the ice for rehearsal,” the overhead announcer repeats.

“That’s us”. You take a deep breath and grab Mark’s hand. He gives you a reassuring squeeze as you skate out from the benches onto the ice.

It’s only a rehearsal, so only a few people, coaches and other skaters, were watching. Even so, you blink nervously as you run through the routine in your head.

“Are you ready?,” Mark questions with a smile, pulling you into the starting position. Your heart races against your chest, but you take a deep breath to calm it down. After everything you’ve been through, this is not the hill you’ll die on.

“I’m ready”. You nod to the staff members and the familiar tune fills the stadium.

It’s a song that Mark picked out himself. It’s ‘his contribution’ to the group project as he joked when you were contemplating your music choice. Playing the simple song on his phone, one earbud for you and the other for him, he explained that it says everything that he feels for you. And it’s absolutely perfect.

“Twenty minutes and you’re up, group five! Please be on stand-by,” a staff member peeps her head into the locker room as you touch up your hair and makeup.

All around you, skaters bustle around, frantically stitching last-minute sequins back on their dresses or brushing on copious amounts of blush, surely to stand out to even those seated in the back row.

Pair four is about to go out on the ice, meaning you’ll be out there before you know it.

Mark is in the men’s locker room, of course. He must feel odd being the only one there right now. You texted him asking if he needed help with his costume, but he insisted he’d handle it just fine. It’s more you worrying than anything.

Taking your hundredth yoga breath of the day, you peer into your reflection in the water-stained mirror. Your long, dark hair is half-up and half-down - loose enough to flow with your skating, but also pinned back so you don’t completely choke on it. Natural makeup adorns your eyes and lips. It’s a much different look than what’d you’d usually go for when skating, but after a lot of careful consideration, it would be much more meaningful both to the performance and to you to go out like this.

Your dress is a stunning royal red. After Uncle Joe told your parents about the competition, they all chipped in to buy it for you to wear tonight. You insisted that it was okay, that it was far too expensive and you could just wear your old one especially since money is so tight, but they wouldn’t let you get another word in.

So now it’s on your body with the price tag cut off. You trace a finger over the intricate sequins of the bodice down to the flowy silk skirt. Trusty white skates already laced up, it’s time to go out and meet Mark.

You start to make your way into the hall.

“Hey y/n, you’re getting a call,” one of the other skaters calls out.

Stopping in your tracks, you hop awkwardly back in your skates, thanking her as you grab your phone from her outstretched hand.

It’s a Facetime call from Yuna.

You pick it up, the screen skipping a few times as the signal struggles to connect.

“y/n!”. Metallic voices on the other side come out distorted and the images are no higher quality than 240p at best, but you recognize instantly that your closest friends are all there sitting in the bleachers.

“y/n, you look so beautiful! Are you next?,” Lisa calls over the other voices.

“No, there’s someone going now, but Mark and I will be right after,” you reply, a smile blooming across your face.

“Markos! Markos! Markos!,” the boys start chanting, evicting laughter from your chest.

“y/n your parents are here too! And Uncle Joe”. The camera pans around, revealing the blurry faces of said loved ones.

“No way! Mom? Dad? Joe?,” you gasp, “how’d you come all the way out here?”.

“Honey!,” your mother greets, beaming at the camera, “of course we came! You worked so hard, your friends have been telling me all about it!”

“And we want to meet this Mark boy too,” your father adds.

You scoff, rolling your eyes playfully.

“You’re a good one, kiddo,” Joe chimes in, “and I have a feeling we’ll be seeing something spectacular tonight. From the skating I’ve seen so far, you won’t have much trouble at all getting that prize-”

“Joe!,” you hush, “I’m still in the locker room! Don’t say that!”.

Looking around nervously, thankfully nobody seems to have heard Uncle Joe’s criticism.

“Listen everyone, thank you so much for coming tonight, it means the world to me. We’ll definitely talk after, but for now, I really gotta go”.

“Okay babe, just wanted to let you know we’re all rooting for you!”. Yuna pulls the camera back to reveal everyone cheering and waving to you. Your heart tingles with butterflies at the gesture. “You’re gonna kill it tonight! Love you!”.

Relaying your affections back, you hang up the call and head out into the hall.

It’s dark. All the lights have been turned off for the sake of the icy stage to stand out more. The curtain less windows provide almost no illumination due to the winter evening nature.

Through the wall, you can hear roaring applause greeting the fourth pair of skaters as they enter the ice. The whole university and more must be here by the sound of it.

“y/n”. Mark’s voice guides your eyes to your right. Squinting through the dark, his familiar form approaches out of the shadows.

“Mark,” you greet back quietly, resting a hand on his arm.

Even in this lighting, your breath draws thin at his appearance. His blonde hair is slicked back instead of tousled in a cute fringe like you’re used to. It’s nothing crazy, but it somehow changes his vibe completely. Your hand feels at his billowy white shirt, tucked neatly into black pants.

“Okay, keep looking at me like this and we’re not making it out there,” Mark mumbles under his breath, smirking slightly as a few stagehands pass by.

You remove your hand only to smack him in the same spot.

“Shut up”

“You love me”

“Yeah, and?”

His familiar giggles tickle your ears.

“Are you Mark and y/n? Pair five?,” a staff member interrupts.

“Oh, yes, that’s us”

“Please head down this way to be on standby. When it’s your time to enter, there will be someone at the gate to usher you in”

“Okay, thank you”. Slipping your hand into Mark’s, the two of you hobble in the direction of the rink entrance. It’s nerve-wracking, but the feeling is so easy to ignore when you’re together with him.

The music of the current performance becomes suddenly louder as you open the door to enter the main part of the stadium. From where you stand (in a random corner by the bleachers), thousands of audience members fill the stands.

The pair on the ice dance together playfully to their energetic piece. Your two teammates, you recognize.

“They’re really good,” you breathe, watching them spin oh-so-synchronously together without missing a beat.

“That doesn’t mean we can’t be good too,” Mark states matter-of-factly. You look up at him to meet his gaze, giving his hand a small squeeze in agreement. “And now is as good a time as ever to tell you that I was- and I’m not shitting you- I was standing right here when I saw you for the first time”.

“What?”. You look around at the dark underside of the rink bleachers. The best two adjectives to use for a place like this are ‘dank’ and ‘gross’.

“Yes, I know. Fall of last year, you were practicing at night and I came to do drills. I saw you here and… that was it for me. I dropped my bag and you turned towards me so I completely panicked. I ran away and couldn’t grow the balls to ask you out for a whole year. That’s the truth”.

Mark’s expression is oh so cutely shy and it makes you curl your toes in your skates.

“You complete loser,” you gush over the music, “You should have stayed, asked me out right then and there. Then we would’ve had an extra year together”.

“You’re right,” Mark groans into his hands jokingly. He spreads his fingers to peer through their gap. “But what’s one year of forever, right?”.

“What’s one year of forever,” you echo.

Applause erupts from above you as the skaters finish their routine. The announcer goes over the rules for voting once more, sending them off as they exit the ice.

“Group five, you’re on next. When they announce your names, you’re gonna go through this gate here and when you’re ready, they’re gonna start the music. Any concerns?,” the staff member directs.

“No, thank you,” the two of you shake your heads.

“Okay, this is it,” you state. It’s unclear if it’s directed to yourself or for Mark. In all honesty, it’s to the world.

“This is just one thing, y/n. It’s just one of the many things we’re gonna do together. Let’s just do it how we always do”

He’s always right.

“And now, please welcome our next skaters, sophomore, y/n and her partner, junior, Mark Lee!’.

In the matter of seconds, you’re out of the dark and hit with blinding spotlights from every direction.

Your own thoughts drown out as unseen crowds past the light roar animatedly at your arrival. Raising your arms in the air, hand still laced with Mark’s, the two of you circle around the ice to greet the audience.

“Holy shit, I didn’t get a good look earlier, but y/n, this dress…” Mark remarks, eyes glued on your figure.

“I look beautiful,” you confirm confidently as you stop naturally in the center of the ice. “Are you ready?”.

It’s always like this, rapid fire. As nervous as you are, it's time to go.

Inhaling and exhaling deeply, the junior hockey captain moves into the starting position.

“I’m always ready for you”

And just like that, the soft strumming of guitar chords overcome the audience ruckus and all you can see is the man in front of you.

I found a love for me

Oh darling, just dive right in and follow my lead

Well, I found a girl, beautiful and sweet

Oh, I never knew you were the someone waiting for me

Your bodies move on autopilot, muscle memory from countless nights of practice amounting to the flawless execution of your first lift. His hands are strong against your body and you put your full trust in him to catch you every time. The crowd could be screaming right now and you wouldn’t hear it, only focusing on how much the lyrics of this song mean to you.

‘Cause we were just kids when we fell in love

Not knowing what it was

I will not give you up this time

But darling, just kiss me slow, your heart is all I own

And in your eyes, you're holding mine

You dance in unison, your bodies so familiar with each other. Jumping easily into his arms, you know he can see the love in your eyes as he holds on to balance you by your waist. Hair billowing in the breeze created by your movement, Mark improvises to tuck it back behind your ear.

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark with you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song

When you said you looked a mess, I whispered underneath my breath

But you heard it, darling, you look perfect tonight

Well I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know

She shares my dreams, I hope that someday I'll share her home

I found a love, to carry more than just my secrets

To carry love, to carry children of our own

This is the man you want to spend the rest of your life with.

We are still kids, but we're so in love

Fighting against all odds

I know we'll be alright this time

Darling, just hold my hand

Be my girl, I'll be your man

I see my future in your eyes

And somehow, by the luckiest of stars, he wants to spend the rest of his with you too.

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark, with you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song

When I saw you in that dress, looking so beautiful

I don't deserve this, darling, you look perfect tonight

The song winds down and you express every ounce of romance you have for everyone to see. The two of you aren’t aware, but everyone in the stadium is silent with awe.

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark, with you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song

I have faith in what I see

Now I know I have met an angel in person

And she looks perfect

I don't deserve this

You look perfect tonight

Completely in a trance, the world fades back into your awareness as you kneel down across from each other, out of breath. Mark’s eyes sparkle like stars under the lights and he brings you in for a kiss. You’re exhausted, but you stand and melt into his hug, hardly noticing the standing ovations from all around.

Roses, plushies, and paper planes come raining down. You pull away beaming, heart bursting with joy. Hand-in-hand, you take a bow, waving to the crowd as you catch your breath.

“y/n, you were so amazing,” Mark exemplifies as the two of you exit the ice. Everything passed by so fast. Months of hard work and roller coaster emotions accumulated to the last five minutes, over before you knew it.

“Me? Look at you, mister hockey. I’m so amazed at you,” you commend.

As you enter the hall again, you are met with congratulations and praise from teammates and Mark’s many admirers. Although the Lovelee’s may have been banished already, the crowd of cooing girls never went away.

“You were so good, Mark”

“Yeah, totally, Mark. That was so hot”

Your day was far too great for you to be annoyed at their blunt flirtatious attempts (despite your obvious presence by his side). Before Mark could muster out a flustered ‘thank you’, you decide to rip off the band aid.

“He says thank you!”

With no intention of hearing their replies, you lead him further down to where your friends told you they’d be to meet you.

“y/n”. Coach Tanya makes herself known.

“Coach!”. You bow to her.

Much to your surprise, when you come up, the older woman pulls you into a firm hug. Your shock is apparent at the warm gesture and you hesitate before hugging her back. Never has she ever expressed anything more than terse compliments to you before. This is like drinking ice water on a hot day.

“That was absolutely excellent, y/n,” Tanya pulls away to shake hands with your boyfriend, “and you, Mark is it? You were wonderful for a beginner”.

“Thank you ma’am”. He nods politely.

“But y/n,” your coach turns back to you, “I am stunned at your artistry. The emotion, the technique, you’re one of my best. How would you like to go to nationals in the spring?”.

Your hand shoots up to cover your gaping mouth. Tears spring to your eyes and you nod vigorously to confirm your obvious answer to Tanya’s question.

“No way!” Yuna’s voice sounds from behind your coach’s figure. The blonde emerges shortly after, followed quickly by the rest of the gang. The boys waste no time in tackling Mark with congratulations and sharp jabs at his ‘dumbass’ hairstyle.

“You’re here!”. You wrap your best friend in an excited hug. “Coach is sending me to nationals!”. Lisa and Hope join in squealing as the four of you hop up and down at the news.

Tanya chuckles at the scene, “Yes, indeed. And it looks like you’re getting a lot better, Yuna. That’s a relief”.

“I don’t care what the doctor says, I’m gonna make sure I’m on the ice again one day,” Yuna attests.

Coach Tanya leaves you to celebrate as your parents and Uncle Joe come bearing flowers. Many pictures and one uncomfortable interrogation from your parents for Mark later, you get changed and go out to enjoy the rest of the winter festival with your friends.

The results of the competition are to be announced at the end of the night and you elect to not worry about the outcome. What you’ve earned from this journey is more than money could buy. Anything that happens after… happens. You’ll always find a way to make it through and have a great time doing it too.

All bundled up, you hop around the food trucks lining the city streets. Every restaurant in Seoul seemingly sent all their best foods for the festival: spicy rice cakes and burgers to lava cakes and hot cocoa. Live music creates a perfect ambiance to take away all the tension from the day.

The night sky is pitch black, but the whole city campus bustles with life. You swear you’ve seen this exact scenery in a Hallmark Christmas movie - all the cars and buildings wear their fluffy white snow caps, the sparkle of fairy lights in trees reflecting off their glass windows. Nobody cut the cameras because it’s pure magic.

“Guys they’re having fireworks on the roof of the science building. We can watch them announce the competition winners from there too, let’s go!,” Haechan pleads with a mouth full of steaming fish cakes.

“What do you say, you want to?,” Mark asks you, brushing a bit of sauce off the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

“Sounds great,” you smile. Fireworks are always a win.

You weave your way through the crowded street together, heading up the hidden stairwell only students would know to reach the designated rooftop. The whole time you can’t help but let your eyes linger on Jeno and Lisa’s interlocked fingers. The sight sure brings a smirk to your face, but man are you not used to it.

Mark notices your fixed gaze, following it to the odd couple’s joined hands. Snickering, he nudges you to stop staring.

“Sorry, it’s just so… unexpected,” you whisper to him as you head towards the rooftop railing to overlook the campus.

“I know, I didn’t see it coming either,” Mark agrees, tossing an arm over your shoulders as you moon over the breathtaking city line. Your breath makes clouds in the cold, winter air, but you feel warm as ever inside.

Out in the horizon, each blinking, twinkling light is a person living their life. Thousands of stories all at once, blissfully unique and their own. They’re different colors and intensities, some are from windows and some from cars. Overhead, an airplane soars on by. In reality, they’re moving at an incredible speed. But from where you admire, the little red wing lights inch on by, slow to leave your sight.

The world is full, so full. What looks like a tiny red light is a plane full of people and what must look like a speck of gold to them is the whole city of Seoul gathered together. Everything is different when you understand perspective, you realize, and it becomes so much more meaningful.

“Hey, I think that’s the dean! He’s gonna announce the winners of the skating competition!,” Hope taps you excitedly from your other side.

“Oh my god it’s happening”. You grab her hand and shake it around.

Mark’s grip tightens around you as the Seoul University dean steps in front of a podium set up in the school yard. A crowd gathers around, excited whispers travelling all the way up to your rooftop perch. The microphone screeches with feedback causing everyone to groan and cover their ears.

“Sounds like Haechan’s singing voice,” Mark whispers under his breath.

“I heard that!,” the younger boy retorts indignantly. You bite back your laughter as the dean begins to speak.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming out this cold night to celebrate what Seoul University is about: unity and…,”

“Blah blah blah - tell us who won!,” Yuna whisper-yells, exasperated.

“You’re so hot when you’re bratty,” Ten coos.

“I know”.

This couple I swear. I’m trying to be nervous, but I can’t even do that when I’m laughing.

“... first annual skating competition here at Seoul University. Our students not only excel in academics, but hold a variety of astounding talents as you folks may have seen tonight at the University rink. Each student did a phenomenal job preparing for this competition, so let’s give a round of applause for all the skaters who performed tonight and the staff who made it happen!”

You clap your hands together nervously, bouncing slightly at the knee to fight the cold.

“One pair, by your vote, will be winning a grand prize of ten thousand dollars for their exceptional performance. After I announce the winners, we will wrap up the night with our famous annual firework show!”.

The crowd whoops and cheers excitedly.

“Without further ado, by popular vote, the winners of the first annual Seoul University skating competition are…,” the dean slits open a closed envelope, unfurling the contained page with excruciating tardiness. Pausing for dramatic effect, the excitement builds in the air, “y/n and Mark Lee!”.

Your names ring triumphantly through the whole city as you’re immediately crushed by seven hugs. The festival-goers roar in congratulations and you can’t hold back the tears of joy that spring into your eyes. Jumping up and down, your friends surround you in a cocoon of screaming and yelling.

Mark snatches you up, pulling you into his arms and twirling you around. Pressing a frenzy of kisses all over your face, you squeal in disbelief as he sets you down.

“You did it!,” he yells, sandwiching your cheeks between his hands.

“No, WE did it!,” you yell back, jumping up and hugging him close. Your friends waste no time to shuffle into a group hug, enveloping you like a love-flavored bao.

“y/n! No fucking way! Actually, we all saw it coming,” Yuna smacks your butt as an I-told-you-so gesture. You don’t even mind right now.

“I can’t believe it,” you cry into Mark’s fuzzy, black coat, “I can’t believe it. I- this means I can come back to school next semester”.

“Hell fucking yeah you can,” Haechan whoops.

The freezing air is knocked out of your body as a firework cracks across the sky, the booming sound resonating deep in your bones. Everyone’s attention is turned towards the brilliant shower of purples and pinks as they light up the darkened sky.

Mark sets you down, swiping his sleeves carefully over your cheeks to catch your fallen tears.

“My baby, always crying,” he jokes softly. You breathe out a short laugh as you sniff down your running nose. “But they’re happy tears, right?”.

“The happiest,” you nod, resting your ear to his chest as the two of you marvel at the shimmering sky. An especially big firework sets off, smaller ones following all around, drawing awed gasps from all who see.

“I love you,” you mumble.

“I love you too,” Mark hushes into your hair.

“I love this. I love today. I love this school. I love Yuna. I love Hope. I love Lisa. I love Jeno and Haechan. I love my parents and Uncle Joe. I love Coach Tanya and I love skating”.

You pause your rapid-fire declaration as you turn to face him. In his eyes, you can see the whole firework show.

“I love these fireworks and I love everyone who came to see us skate. I loved meeting you all those months ago by the basketball courts and I loved getting hit on at Yangyang’s party so we had our almost-first kiss by the lake”. You choke back a happy sob as you continue.

Mark has his eyes closed with a wide smile spread across his lips as he recollects the memories.

“I love going to church with you and I love when you pick me up from work. I love how you always zip up my jacket without asking and how you never wake me up early in the mornings because you know how much I hate it. You’re always there for me, Mark Lee”.

Fresh tears dribble down your chin and although he remains in pensive silence, shining streaks adorn his face too. You don’t notice it, but your friends have stepped back to let you have a private moment.

“Oh, y/n”. Mark’s voice comes out thick, swallowing back tears. His hand caresses at your face and it’s ever so warm. Moments pass before he’s able to continue. “Always”.

And you don’t need a fairy tale narrator to tell you that his promise is true for you to believe it with your whole heart. You’re here with him, fireworks all around, and it’s as true as the plane in the sky and the lights in the horizon.

You’re surrounded by friends, new and old, and most importantly, friends who are here to stick around.

You were wrong in the beginning: this wasn’t a story about how two souls come together.

It wasn’t only two, you see. It was you and Mark and all your friends and the professors you say ‘thank you’ to after class and the man who sells you green tea in the morning. It’s your parents and Uncle Joe and the stranger girl who fell in love with your skating tonight, sure to beg her parents for a pair of skates. The first of many.

It’s all of them and so much more.

And god, you’re so in love with who they’ve shaped you to be.

163 notes · View notes

reniqt · 2 years

Text

i know i say this a lot but ohmygod RANT COMING

i reallt love heeseung :((

so i’m currently studying rn listening to this hee playlist right RIGHT?? U SEE WHERE THIS IS GOING?? doing my shit ahaha procrastinating UNTIL eyes off you comes on. EYES. OFF. YOU. i literally had such a big fat fucking phase with that song and just imagining hee w this song playing has literally changed my whole entire life IM?? HEARTBROKEN?? makes me realize how much i miss him ohmtgod :(( the thought of it makes me wanna cry !! thinking back to how quiet he’s been ever since he’s been getting hate and i’m LITERALLY SO KAKDJ ???!/$/$ that man has made me feel loved for the longest time and he’s been my PURE motivation i need each morning :(( like just thinking about him makes me wanna cry myself to sleep like i rlly rlly love him and i’m sososoosos proud of him for making it this far</333 i hope he knows how perfect he is like ??? hands DOWN. he’s so lovable and sweet i rlly wanna cry now AHHAHA THINKING BACK TO THE TIME I CRIED OVER HIM AT A SCHOOL NIGHR. can u believe it. going on tiktok then suddenly shifting tears at him SMILING?? LIKE?? but ohemgee why do i miss him so much listening to these hee playlists ARENT!! HELPING!! no but the comfort i get when i’m downstairs in pitch black listening to my tv playing enha has gotta b one of the most comforting things i’ve done?? now that i’m watching hee content in the middle of the night the urge to cry rn is RLLY STRONG. i love him sosoosososmuch did i say that already 💀 but i do :((( like i rlly do :((((((( hes been so quiet lately i just hope he’s okay :((((((((( anyways off topic ORETTY MUCH AND HEE??? THINKKKK abt it. mans is so bf material he’s literally gonna make me go insane bc of how perfect he is like i’m not even joking he’s so fucking talented AKAKSNNS HIS GOCALS?? HIS VOCALS??? HELLLO? SO DAMN TALENTED AND FOR WHAT???? MANS IS GOOD AT ANYTHING HE DOES:(( that’s a lotta sad faces in one post AHA not the point im a strong hee stan and that’s been lasting for MONTHS. ILAND……..iland was just the start of it. man i love his vocals smsmsmsm thats literaly the whole reason why i bias him so hard like??? THE MOMENT HE SANG BOOM I KNEW I HAD TO BIAS HIM. THE WAY HE TWISTS THE WORDS BEAUTIFULLY IS SO UNIQUE TO ME?? he’s always had such a talented voice i’m so. i’m wasting my studying time rn but atp idgaf cuz its abt HEE. HEE IN THE MIRNING HEE AT NIGHT HEE IN THE EVENING AND HEE AT SCHOOL jk its not that deep maybe i am delulu but u get what i mean !! do i regret making this !! no !! the strong urge to rant abt the loml was so strong to the point this paragraph became long asf i’m literally so MSMDMSN EYES OFF U AND HEESEUNG AAKSKA now that urge to write a fic abt him is here like i could stay up till 3 writing abt him if i wanted too……./hj heeseung, the loml, my one and only, my everyrhing, my happiness, ETC i love u vvvvvv much !! its so hard to study now, now that i’m writing this shit paragraph but it’s ok. its OK. conclusion i love heeseung so damn much and i miss him…like…a lot…………fuck the sad playlists that r making me cry i genuinely cant do this more am i allowed to sob :(( HELP NOT TALKING TO THE MOON COMING ON?? watch me scroll through hee pics after this cuz i miss him sm and i crave hee pics!! this is a rlly hard time for me guys pray 4 me why am i crying over a man at a school night. SCHOOL NIGHT. IS IT EVEN THAT DEEP…yes. its rhat deep. i rlly canr thank him enough for making me smile sm i :(((( atp what would i do without him ???? ROT???? yes. he genuinely makes me feel like the happiest person ever i’m not even joking there something abt him:(( mans gives off such a comforting and safe feeling i love sm UUGMDJS how do i tell him hes perfect ??? like ??? god hes so perfect i dont even know what to say antmore :((((( hes literally the DEFINITION of perfect. AND I STAND BY MY POINT!!! he’s always been perfect wtaf he’s not even real. HES NOT REAL. THERES MO WAY. this is all literally just my imagination. JUST LOOK AT HIS NAME. HEESEUNG?? fuck even his NAME sounds perfect too. he’s so ethereal i’m not even joking how could i love a man so much i

FUCK THE PARAGRAPH IS TOO LONG

ok well.

i’m so incredibly in love w him i’m literaly rotting inside

#heeseung :(((#lee heeseung :((((#= literaly my entire world !!#im not okay im rlly not i want to CRY.#r.rants🐾#r.moots🐾

6 notes · View notes

ghostedgwen · 3 years

Text

𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻 𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑷 𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻

note : here is a compilation of writing prompts I’ve made, scattered throughout old blogs I’ve abandoned, and I thought why not steal them from me and compile it all in one big list?

↪ 𝒒𝒖𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕;

taken from songs in my ‘quarantine playlist’

1. “A girl like that would never go for a guy like me.”

2. “I don't know how you keep stealing all the air from my lungs.”

3. “Just wait and see, they're gonna notice me.”

4. “I'm tired of falling in love.”

5. “I guess you’re all the same/”

6. “I could see my whole life with you, baby.”

7. “I hate to love you.”

8. “Darling, I fancy you.”

9. “But we were something.”

10. “I never expected to find someone like you.”

11. “What if we run away?”

12. “I knew I’d curse you for the longest time.”

13. “My heart is so invested, I don't wanna face the truth.”

14. “Nobody will notice, let's get out of here.”

15. “I'm not happy and you know it.”

16. “I knew you’d miss me once the thrill expired.”

17. “Don't be afraid, our little secret's safe in here.”

18. “Just one mistake, you say you're not in love no more.”

19. “Let's not give the game away.”

20. “You say you're numb inside but I can't agree.”

21. “There's no forgetting you.”

22. “Is it too soon to do this yet?”

23. “I’m not your problem anymore.”

24. “Save your apologies.”

25. “What do you do with a broken heart?”

26. “What if we never met?”

27. “You know that I am yours and you are mine.”

28. “I’m sorry that I hurt you.”

29. “Maybe I should've noticed that you were just half in love.”

30. “All I do is make you cry.”

31. “Should’ve known I’d be the first to leave.”

32. “You had to kill me but it killed you just the same.”

33. “’Cause you were never mine.”

34. “This is the last time I’m asking you this,”

35. “What they know bout us doesn't make a difference.”

36. “I don't know how to love”

37. “I'll never trust you again, you can just be a friend.”

38. “I could fix the broken in your heart, you're worth saving, darling.”

39. “My love should be celebrated but you tolerate it.”

40. “You deserve better than me.”

41. “Where did we go wrong?”

42. “I kinda liked the way you numbed all the pain.”

43. “Doesn't mean my heart stops skipping when you look at me like that.”

44. “Deep down, you know I ain't even worth it.”

45. “I won't stop until I make you mine.”

46. “I never needed you like I do right now.”

47. “I'm gonna miss this when it's over.”

48. “I’m not being pessimistic, just being honest with myself.”

49. “I'm just not sure my heart is working.”

50. “Put your hand in mine.”

51. “I’m not ready to be just another of your mistakes.”

52. “Take it easy on my heart.”

53. “You’re all I ever wanted, I think I’ll regret this.”

54. “Haven't you had enough of loneliness?”

55. “You keep tearing me apart.”

56. “Do you know what it is to be the one to fix you, and all you do is run back to him?”

57. “I know who you pretend I am.”

58. “It's hard to act like I don't think about you.”

59. “I can feel your blood pressure rise.” “Fuck this tension.”

60. “So tell me to leave.”

61. “Be more specific, I'm here to listen.”

62. “I had a really bad feeling you've been lying to me.”

63. “You should know I don’t blame you for it.”

64. “I’m highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you.”

65. “I can make you happy, make your dreams come true.”

66. “Tell me how I'm trash and you can easily replace me.”

67. “If one thing had been different, would everything be different today?”

68. “Hold me so I'm not falling apart.”

69. “Tell me how you hate me.”

70. “But I just can’t prove it.”

↪ 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 ;

71. “You should’ve told me! I could’ve done something.”

72. “Then I guess there is no one else to blame.”

73. “This is really it for us, huh?”

74. “It’s better this way. We’re better off like this.”

75. “How is this all my fault?!”

76. “I’ll take all the blame like I always do.”

77. “Did you even miss me?”

78. “I wish I could believe your lies right now.”

79. “So I get replaced? Just like that?”

80. “I should’ve known someone like you don’t know how to love.”

81. “Gave you my all but it’s not enough.”

82. “Because you keep taking and taking!”

83. “I have nothing else left to give.”

84. “You left me and now you’re gonna act all worried?”

85. “Take one more step towards me and I will hurt you.”

86. “Don’t make me do this.”

87. “Was it worth it?”

88. “I don’t get you at all, your heart is too confusing.”

89. “Make up your mind before you lose me forever.”

90. “I get more scared of you everyday.”

91. “I don’t wanna lose this but. . .”

92. “I should’ve never trusted someone like you.”

93. “We were doomed from the beginning.”

94. “I’m so sorry I never asked for this to happen. Please.”

95. “I don’t care . Go on and run to him.”

96. “I can’t lose you too.”

97. “Help? Do I look like I’m in need of your help?”

98. “It’s a shame you don’t know how to trust.”

99. “You’re a liar and you’ll never change.”

100. “My friends were right.”

101. “Just let me help you!”

102. “You have no idea how much I’m holding back. Stop this.”

103. “This is no accident. There’s no redeeming you.”

104. “I can’t even look at you anymore.”

105. “You’ve completely lost me. Are you happy?”

106. “You were just a very crucial detail to my grand plan.”

107. “So when were you planning to tell me?”

108. “I suppose the joke’s on me, right?”

109. “I hate you with a burning passion.”

110. “I hope we never see each other again in this lifetime and the next.”

↪𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟/𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦;

111. “I can’t help it when you look at me with those eyes.”

112. “What do you say we take a stroll?”

113. “You’re the only thing that matters.”

114. “I can feel you holding yourself back, just let yourself go.”

411. “I know what that look means.”

116. “Care to dance with me under the stars?”

117. “I don’t have an umbrella.”

118. “Kissing in the rain is a bit too cliché.”

119. “Aren’t you my knight in shining armour?”

120. “I don’t deserve you, but thank you for choosing me.”

121. “Waking up to that pretty smile of yours feels like a daydream.”

122. “You’re my home ___, I’ll always find my way back to you. Always.”

123. “Losing you would be losing myself.”

124. “You’re the only good thing in my life.”

125. “Years spent all alone were all worth it now that you’re here with me.”

126. “I promise to never leave your side.”

127. “Call my name and I’ll be there.”

128. “Why are we baking?”

129. “Are you lonely?”

120. “We can just stay here like this forever.”

↪ 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒌;

possibly taken from my siblings and I’s interact or videos I found funny on the internet. (under maintenance - i’m funnier now)

121. “ ”

122. “ ”

123. “ ”

124. “ ”

125. “ ”

126. “ ”

127. “ ”

128. “ ”

129. “ ”

130. “ ”

That’s it for now. Take note I stole some on these from my other prompt lists that I’ve posted before on wattpad and tumblr so if some of them are familiar then. . .déjà vu.

#miko prompts #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter x reader #tasm! peter parker x reader #james fleamont potter #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black #remus x reader #remus lupin x reader #regulus imagine #regulus x reader #peter pettigrew #andrew!peter #tom!peter #tobey!peter

15 notes · View notes

inevitably-johnlocked · 3 years

Note

Hi Steph!

I’m sorry it’s my first time sending you an ask, so I dunno which button I clicked man. Sorry about that.

Ok, so what I wanted to request! I love your blog. You’re really kind and genuine, and I’ve found some great fics to light up my day from here. But sometimes, the posts are suuupppeeerr long, and I may not be looking for this info exactly? Like it clogs up a lot of my dash. So I wanted to request if you could use a “read more” feature after a brief, at least for the fic rec posts.

I hope I didn’t offend or anything. Thank u for all the kindness you put into the world each day. Have a good day fren!

Hey Nonny!

Ahh, okay, you’re not going to like what I am going to say, but you are very respectful and were smart and sandwiched your issue in compliments, so Ahhhh, I feel conflicted now.

With all due respect Nonny, this is my blog and I get more engagement on my lists if people can see the full list; many people prefer it that way, and honestly I get crapped on either way, so I’ve made the executive decision to not cut my posts. The only time I do is on “second” reblog on super long LONG lists so that I have a “cut” and “uncut” version of the post, but even those I’ve been reducing.

I’ve tried both ways, and full posts get better notice. All I want to do is share my love of fics and content with y’all, and the best way to do that is to just have it all there so people know what they’re getting.

Plus, am I to just “readmore” every single reply on my posts? A lot of the reason my blog has stayed as long as it has is because I’ve always been a very interactive blog. People LIKE seeing their replies added to a comment thread on my post, and it helps smaller blogs get noticed. It’s not much on the surface, but I’ve had smaller blogs come to me DELIGHTED that their name is now attached to one of my posts that are going through a “popular reblog cycle” (that is, a post that is being interacted with for a good few days before I actually finally add it to the month-reblog queue). It helps create a sense of community, I feel, and that’s one of the things I am very honoured to be: a starting place for community.

And this is just in a general sense and NOT directed at you, more at the people who shit on me in the notes of my long posts, but I don’t GET people getting upset about my TEXT BASED POST WITH NO IMAGES IN IT, but not on any of the image or playlist posts I reblog, which take FOREVER to load on mobile. I GENUINELY don’t get it. I don’t even use the app on my phone, I’m logged into the browser on my phone, because the app is garbage.

The problem is the app, in my opinion. That’s the gist of it. It loads slow, it scrolls terribly, and the UI is annoying, but instead app users blame the bloggers and not the fact that Tumblr staff ignore every suggestion we make. And because more of the newer people use their mobiles these days, us old-time Tumblr users are expected to microblog like the shitty sites that are Twitter or Facebook. Tumblr is a blogging platform, like LiveJournal, laid out all nicely and clean and honestly, (the royal you) you’re getting exactly what you signed up for: long posts, opinions, and interaction. If one wants shitty layouts, shitty comment threads you can’t follow and reactionaries, go to Twitter. Call me a boomer, whatever, I just find Tumblr so much more appealing now more than ever.

Sorry, I’ve needed to get this off my chest for awhile now. I don’t know. Maybe I’m being pedantic. I don’t care, really. My thoughts on this: if (the royal) you don’t like the content, or find stuff annoying, don’t follow me.

Because you know what a lot of my longest posts are? Helpline numbers at the bottom of posts. Useful links. And just stuff that make people happy. People in despair are not going to click on a read more of a post. People who want links to resources aren’t going to click on a read more. People who just want happiness after a stressful day are literally just scrolling to smile, and they ain’t gonna click a read more.

YES, there are reasons read mores are good, absolutely. I just PERSONALLY don’t like them because I like engagement. I don’t get much of it anymore on my posts, EXCEPT the fic rec posts, and THOSE work better as a full view.

BUT NONNY PLEASE KNOW I AM NOT UPSET AT ALL WITH YOU, and you’ve given me a great opportunity to discuss this thing that I’ve put off for awhile because the other people were less-than-kind, and it only made me NOT address it out of simple spite because I’m nothing if not a passive aggressive old lady.

So, here are a few ideas you can implement:

If you like my posts but not the longest ones, I always tag them “long post”. Tumblr finally has its own tag blocking feature, so just block “long post”. All of my very long lists will be blocked, and you can decide if you want to click on them based on what the additional tags are. I try my best to tag all my lists appropriately.

Similarly, you can “tag block” my username, and only click on the posts you like the tags for.

DON’T TAKE THIS THE WRONG WAY, PLEASE, this isn’t a “so there!” comment, I promise!!: You can unfollow me if you’re only following me for the fic lists, and instead follow me on Twitter at @inevitablyjohn1, which is used only to promote my new lists and art. Every Wednesday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday I post up the Wednesday Reblog, Five Fics Friday, Fic Rec Roundup, and Fic Rec Sunday, with a link to each post :) Then you’ll get all the lovely full lists I post 4 times a week. OF COURSE, this is the option I don’t want to happen, because I love all my lovelies and you’ll miss out on the random fics, insightful asks, and suggestions I get throughout the week, BUT I want you to enjoy your time on Tumblr, and if my blog is causing you stress, it’s the last thing I want to happen. I love all of y’all too much to see that!

THAT ALL SAID, Nonny, I’m really sorry to disappoint you, and I hope you understand my POV on this. I just don’t see any benefit on my part, for MY blog, which I run for MY happiness which has the side effect of making other people happy. I also hope you will still stick around regardless, but I care about your well being and I understand if you have to leave.

AND everyone, please don’t be harsh on this Nonny! They asked a question respectfully and deserve our respect in kind.

I truly wish you the loveliest of days, Nonny, and have a great week! <3

#steph replies #my blog #blog things #tumblr things #ironically:#long post #Anonymous

57 notes · View notes

ryvgvji · 4 years

Text

Surprise! | Eijirou Kirishima

Happy late birthday to my baby boy Kiripima!!❤️✨

genre: fluff with slight smut

warnings: lap dance? light cursing, suggestive writing (this falls into the fem.reader region, but all are welcome to read. i tried my best to not make it steer toward writing for women alone)

summary: you decide to throw your boyfriend a surprise birthday party and invite some old classmates and friends over to celebrate all together.

this is probably the longest post i’ve ever made. i really hope y’all enjoy

(apologies for any grammar errors)

today was a special special day. it’s your boyfriend Kirishima's birthday. for your boyfriend of many loving and happy years, you decided that you wanted to show him your appreciation for him. with him being a pro hero and you working as a first responder, you never got to celebrate special events like this with him because he’d often be caught up with patrols and saving civilians. but this year you were determined to change that. last week you contacted your old classmates and close friends of you both and let them know you wanted to throw him a surprise party, instantly they said they will be there. so you rented out a VIP section in the most famous club in Japan and contacted the club’s manager to let them know about the event and asked if you could give a playlist to the DJ. it was an easy process and everything was set.

you had woken up early enough to make Kirishima and yourself some breakfast. you made waffles with bacon and sausages. almost finished with breakfast, you heard someone’s feet dragging across the floor from around the corner. you saw a messy-haired Kirishima rubbing his eyes yawning with a slumped over posture. “‘g’ morning baby, how come you up so early?” he walked into the kitchen, coming up behind you placing his head on your shoulders kissing your cheek. “good morning handsome. i’m just making breakfast for the best birthday boy in the world.” you say as you place the food into plates and turned off the stove. turning around you faced your boyfriend who still had some drool on the corner of his mouth. you placed a kiss to his lips and smiled. “y/n you didn’t have to do that.” he pouted. “but i wanted to. come on, let’s eat.”

picking up your plates, you guys walked over to the dining table and took a seat beside each other. no wasting anytime Kirishima picked up his fork and started to eat. he hummed out in approval as he swilled down the food. you smiled at him before picking up your fork. “i’m glad you enjoying it Kiri.” you guys are together, occasionally having small talk about work and such.

“you know, i almost forgot that today was my birthday.” he laughed as he gulped his orange juice. “man you're getting old, baby.” you teased him. he laughed leaning his head back slightly, “please, don’t remind me cutie.” you smiled looking away feeling butterflies flutter in your stomach. Kirishima notices this and turns to you taking your face into his hand so you look at him. “what’s up cutie?” his eyes focused on your face. you smiled once again. he was so breathtaking that you couldn’t help it. “what?” he’s also smiling showing a couple of sharp teeth. “your amazing.” you sighed looking into his crimson eyes. a light blush spreads to his cheek and he leans in only inches from your face. “not as amazing and perfect as you though better half. you make everything better in life since you walked into it. you make me feel like the best man in the world. you make me wanna work hard, be the best version of myself, y’ know? i love you cutie.” you could see your vision getting more and more blurry with each word that he whispers to you. you let the tears slip down your cheek as he quickly wipes them away with his thumb. “Kiri, i’m supposed to be sweet talking you, not the other way around.” you chuckled holding your hand on top of his. he kisses your lips, laughing. “oh please. go and fresh up for work, i’ll take care of the dishes.”

you now at work you were working on some paperwork as the day started to slowly end. many patients are seen and a few lectures with your colleagues are held. you had received a couple of cards from the small kids that came in for a check-up to give to Kirishima. it was such a cute interaction with them. it makes you smile when you think about all the little kids your boyfriend has inspired and encouraged to do their best in everything. he was just perfect. simple as that. the alarm on your apple watch went off signaling that it’s time for you to go back home. at the same time, you received a call from your good friend Mina and your best friend. “girl, we’re about five minutes away.” your best friend spoke. “okay. i’m just logging out now. i’ll be there soon.” “okay, cya, much!” you hung up that phone then packing up your stuff and exiting your office. “bye guys, i’ll see you next week!” you called it to the others in the office. “bye y/n!” they chimed. “be sure tell Kirishima happy birthday for us and give him a treat.” one of your acquaintances said. “sure will!!” you laughed and waved hopping onto the elevator.

you walked out of the establishment saying goodbye to the security guards. you saw your best friend’s car right in the front and hurriedly walked over. “y/n!!” they exclaimed. “yes?!” you giggle, mocking their tone of voice. “you ready to surprise your man?” “yes, i am!!” “then let’s go!” Mina cheers. your friend put the car in drive and start your journey home.

arriving at your apartment building, you park at the front and get out of the car. straight through the front entrance into elevators, you press on your floor number and go up. you open your apartment door, stepping inside and turning on the light with your friends close behind. “okay lemme go and take a shower. you guys can do whatever you want.” you put your keys and bag down on a chair nearby then proceeding to your bathroom.

after a nice good shower, you walk into your shared room to see Mina and your bestie sitting on the bed watching TV while chatting. “you guys know what are you wearing?” you asked them as you apply lotion to your body. “yeah i have it with me in my bag.” Mina spoke as she looked through her phone. “same here. lemme go get it.” your friend exits the room before turning with all your bags at hand. “your bags were out there so i just picked them up.” she hands Mina her bag and places yours on the stand by your TV. after putting on undergarments you went through your bag to see a message from Kiri. you slide it open and read it.

My Hero 💫❤️ - hey cutie, i’m almost finished with patrol i’ll be home in an hour and a half ❤️

you smile and text a quick “okay❤️” then shutting off your phone. “y’all it’s time. he said he’s leaving work in an hour and a half.” “alright! let’s get this show on the road.” your friend unpacks her bag taking out her clothes and takes out some makeup. Mina does the same. you go into your closet reaching for your outfit. for a little more fun you turn on your TV to YT and play some music while getting ready. you tell Mina to shoot Bakugou a text and tell him to get ready and your friend starts on your makeup. “yes ma’am!”

as your friend put the finishing touches on your eyebrows and lips, you hear your phone ring. Mina reads you the caller ID telling you that it’s Bakugou. you take the phone and answer. “hey Bakugou, wassup?” “yo y/n, i just finished my patrol and i’m in the office. Kirishima is still on patrol so i’m waiting for him. you guys almost finished?” he questioned you. “i just finished my makeup so now i’m going to get dressed. do you know how longer Kiri will be patrolling?” on the other end Bakugou let’s out a sigh. “i don’t know maybe about 20 more minutes.” he grumbles. “but I'm gonna go and take a shower and change. i guess you lemme know when you guys are finally finished painting your faces with clown makeup and are going to leave.” you laughed. “it’s not clowning makeup! aight bet i’ll text you.” “m’kay, bye idiot.” “bye nasty.” the call ended and you got up from the chair to go look in your mirror. “this is good! you should do this for a living!” you praised your best friend’s work of art. “oh stop it. i’m glad you like it.” you nod and smile. “okay now i’m going to do my makeup, you go get dressed up.” she rushed you. you took your clothes and entered your bathroom.

“are y’all ready?” you come into the room in your outfit. you had on a deep blue, almost black like a strapless dress that was open through in a V shape with a string looped in it. you paired that with a denim distressed crop jacket, some black heels, and your rhinestone purse that had a strap. to top it all off you wore the matching earring and necklace that Kirishima had gotten you for your anniversary gift. “damn girl!! looking like a million fucking dollars!” your friend exclaimed checking out your outfit. “thank you.” walking over to look in the mirror you spray some good smelling perfume on and touch on up your hair. damn, you do look good. “alright. we all ready?” you asked your best friend. “mhm, Mina is all ready and is in the living room talking with Sero, Kami, and some others.” “okay, let’s get going now. Kiri should be finished with patrol now so im gonna text Bakugou and tell him that we’re leaving. you guys can go along, i’m gonna take my car cause i still gotta pick up the cake.” you reassured her. “alright. see you in a bit hon, bye.” she leaned in and gave you a hug then leaving.

you just picked up Kirishima’s cake and was on your way to the club now. you’ve been calling all the guests and let them know that they should be at the club now and answered any questions that. as you are a few blocks away from the club, you get a call from Bakugou saying that Kirishima got out of the shower and changed into new clothes. “okay, i’m just pulling up to the club. you gonna drive here?” “yeah. also, i’m gonna pick up the extra idiots Kaminari and Sero on the way.” he explains to you. “bet. i already told Denki and Sero that when you guys are getting close to blindfold him.” “okay. see you in a bit.” with an approving hum you hung up the phone. after shutting on the car, you got out and walking into the club. instantly music fills your ears and your eyes slightly strain from the lowly dim room with different colored lights. moving deeper into the club by the VIP, people start acknowledging your presence cheered and wooed for you.

“you're finally here y/n, i was wondering what was taking you so long.” your best friend comes and takes the cake from you set it on the big table in front of you guys. “sorry, it was but if a drive.” you put your phone in your purse and onto your shoulder. walking closer you see many familiar faces. Midoriya, Todoroki, Iida, and Uraraka were chatting when they saw you and waved to you. you saw Tokoyami, Tsuyu, Jirou and Hagakure sat next to each other on their phones. glancing around more you notice Shinsou, your old teacher Aizawa, Hawks, Tetsutetsu all spread out minding their own business. walking into the booth to say hi to everyone, you see two people who you haven’t seen in so long. you other two besties. you grinned and slightly jogged over to them pulling them into hugs. “it’s been way too long. i’m so glad that y’all could make it!” you smiled. “of course!” one of them spoke. “anything for you y/n.” the other said. “i think this is gonna be a great night. this was a good idea y/n.” “i know right, this night is gonna be legendary.”

after a long chit chat and catching up with your besties and classmates, you moved to talk to the manager about the situation and thank them once again for this being able to happen. “sure thing Ms. y/n. Mr. Eijirou is a very lucky man. i hope he enjoys his time.” you thanked them before ending the conversation and walking to the DJ to make sure that they had your playlist set. once they started to play the music you headed over to the bar to order some drinks for everyone. you return to VIP with two trays of multiple mixed drinks. “thanks.” they each mumbled as you passed them their drinks. “y/n.” you turn around and see Momo and Aoyama walking in the club. “hey!” you walked over to hug them. “how’s life been treating y’all?” “amazing. as you can see i still look good.” Aoyama playfully winked at you making you giggle. “yes, i can. what about you Momo?” “i’m just here. i recently got engaged to the love of my life.” she smiled revealing to you the ring on her finger. “oh my god, congrats girl. i hope i’ll be invited to the wedding.” you poked her sides. she laughs, “yes you are dear, don’t worry.” “okay. well, go ahead and settle in the booth over there with everyone else. i’ll take care of drinks.” “thank you y/n.” they walked to the booth and took a seat.

after a couple of minutes and you were now dancing with some of your friends, your phone went off in your purse and you took it out. it was Bakugou calling you. “hey Bakugou.” “we’re here and he’s blindfolded.” he told you. “okay. you guys can come in now.” “alright. bye.” the called ended. you hurried over to the DJ requesting that you could have the mic. “hello, everyone. Bakugou is here with Kirishima. do you think we could be extra quiet and surprise him?” you questioned everyone in the club. they all cheered and stopped their chatter. the DJ turned down the music as you gave them back the microphone. just then the door for the club opened letting in the cool breeze of the evening as four men walked in all laughing and slightly pushing each other. they quickly silence themselves due to enter the room.

“bro, what the hell. where did y’all bring me?” Kirishima spoke. you walked over to him. from your heels clicking on the wooden tiles he could tell somebody was around. “who is that?” he asked. smiling you reach up and pushed the makeshift blindfold that around his head up to on his forehead. immediately his eyes widen. “y/n?” “surprise!” you shouted along with everyone. Kirishima was so astonished. “w-wha- how?” he looks around seeing familiar faces. “this is for you baby.” you reach and wrap your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. he wraps him around you at the same time kissing you back deeply. pulling away you could see tears on his cheek as he looks you in your eyes. you use your thumbs to wipe them away. “baby doesn’t cry. it’s okay.” you softly massaged his cheeks. “y/n i wasn’t expecting this. y-your too good for me.” “aww, Kiri. come on, some people want to see you.” you lead him over to the VIP booth to see everyone.

so far the night was going great. many drinks and shots were ordered, some people already slightly tipsy. others just enjoyed the free chips that were passed out. you though. you were celebrating yourself. a whole lot. you and your besties along with Mina and Hagakure were all on the dance floor. y’all are dancing around having fun. then the song Instruction challenge that was on your playlist, starts to play. you get so hype and your besties know what’s about to happen. because you guys were being loud, you guys earned the attention of a couple of other people on the floor and they started to spread out making space for you. you also caught some of your friend's eyes like Todoroki, Iida, Hawks, etc.

as the beat played you slowly removed your jacket as you move your hips slowly whining before going into position to twerk. Mina and your best friend took their phones out to record. you also removed your heels and handed it to one of the girls. this drew even more attention from people and including your boyfriend. “what is she doing?” he eyed you in curiosity. “oh i know.” Momo and Aoyama laughed to themselves. even more confused, he moved closer to get a better look.

when the song said “just sit down, just bounce pon de dick.” everyone's eyes went wide, some people face like Midoriya, Kaminari and Shinsou got a bit red. they were not expecting that. to make circumstances even worst for them, you started to twerk. you moved your ass up and down to the beat of the song. your dress moving against you adding that extra jiggle from the slightly loose fabric.

your friends sang along to the lyric hyping you up so much. “so manage it, manage it!” they cheered as you threw it in a circle. “pon de one side, pon de one side, kotch pon de one side, one side.” you bent over bending your right knee to support yourself as you stretch your left leg. you reach for your left ankle to grip onto it as you moved left ass cheek. you moved it to the beat of the song.

at this point Kirishima was at a loss for words and a bit turned on the least to say. this was new to him. you could move like that? then straighten your leg so your bent over, you shake your ass when the song said “move de batty jaw now.” one of your friends started to throw money onto your ass and smack you on your ass. “oh my god y/n.” Sero laughed, totally unfazed by what’s happening. when they thought it was the end, “knock de pussy pon de damn concrete.” played. you went into a split and did exactly what they said, you knocked it on the concrete. twice. when the song ended your friend cheered for you and the other on the dance floor clapped. you smiled and thanked them before beginning to gather your stuff together and walk over to the booth.

“whew, that was a lot.” you breathed dabbing your head with a napkin before taking a sip of the water Kirishima was drinking. “you have no idea.” Shinsou spoke scratching the back of his neck with raised eyebrows. you laughed knowing exactly what he meant. “my bad. that’s just my song.” you shrugged with a smile. you look at Kirishima who was watching you. “yes Kirishima? your staring” you taunted him. “huh? oh, uh. nothing.” he frantically explained. laughing at his cute response you place your hand in his hair giving him little pets. “come on, let’s have some fun!” Mina exclaimed to everyone. Uraraka, Tsuyu, Aoyama, Momo, and Kaminari get up with no hesitation, following over to the dance floor. others like Todoroki, Shinsou, and Tokoyami stayed sitting down and watched. “would you like to join me, birthday boy?” you smirked as you outstretched a hand towards Kirishima. he accepted. “yes i would!”

you’ve been dancing for a while now with everyone and having the time of your life with your boyfriend’s arms around your waist, not letting up. dancing from songs like the Cha Cha Slide and teaching Kirishima how to Kontrol by Maleek Berry and whining into Kirishima as he matched your movements going low to the floor anytime you got lower. you even danced to La Romana by Bad Bunny with the Latino king himself Sero. you even caught one of your friends going crazy throwing it back on him as he caught it. everyone went crazy videoing them and hyping them up. the club was hype, and the excitement was far from ending as you had something planned for Kirishima at the end.

now back at the booth, telling Kiri that you need to go to the bathroom you excused yourself and went for the cake that you had bought. with the help of Todoroki, you successfully got to bring the cake to the table. you had placed the candles on it and lit them with a lighter. you placed the cake in front of Kirishima and placed a kiss on his cheek saying the words, “happy birthday baby.” he smiled as everyone cheered for him and wished him well. “go on! make a wish!” Aoyama urged him. taking your hand in his, he closed his eyes then blew out the candles. “thank you.” he kissed your hand. you smile, “anything for you baby.” “alright let’s have some cake!!” Tesutesu cheered. you feed Kirishima the cake, teasing as you smeared icing on his nose.

it’s been a while since you guys been sitting and chatting. you decided it was the best time for your surprise now as it was well close to 3 am. some people like Bakugou, Shinsou, and Deku were sleeping. some chatter was still going on but it was minimal. so you inquired of Mina and Kaminari to help you out with setting up. you told Mina to take care of the song with the DJ and Kaminari to place a chair in the middle of the dance floor for Kirishima to sit in. you woke up those how were sleeping and explained to everyone that you had something in store for Kirishima. “what else is there to do idiot?” Bakugou grumbles, upset that you woke him up from slumber. “promise me, you’ll want to see this.” you walk to the bathroom to get yourself ready and wait for your cue.

“what’s happening?” Kirishima asked his friend Kaminari as he was nudging him to the chair on the dance floor. “sh, just enjoy bro!” he gave him a thumbs up and went back to where everyone else was. “can i please have everyone’s attention.” Mina called through the mic by the DJ station. Kirishima landed his attention on her. “Kirishima, today’s a very special day. and we all have that we were able to spend it with you.” she started. Kirishima leans back in the chair with a smile on his face mouthing a ‘thank you’ to her. “and as the night is coming to a close, your sexy ass girlfriend named y/n has a show for you right now.” now everyone has their phones out at recording. “performing to Ride by Ciara, the big booty, big titty, make you cream your pants, y/n y/l/n!!!”

the song starts and you walked out of the bathroom that was by the bar. Kirishima turned to see you slowly walking out. your hand grazing against the counter as you seductively watched him walking down the bar. taking a strawberry that was in a cup, you placed it in your mouth bit sucking on the juice that was in the fruit. you placed the stem in the glass before slowing walking over to Kirishima, right leg in front of the other. the sound of your heels against the floor echo in the room with music.

reaching to Kirishima, he looks at you with wide eyes. you go behind him, you move your hand to grip his face in place a kiss to his lips then walking around in front of him. “i can do it big. i can do it long. i can do it whenever or however you want.” you lip-sync the song as you parted Kirishima’s leg placing yourself in between them. you continue to sing. “i market it so good, they can’t wait till you try me.” knelt, lean your face dangerously close to his crotch and roll your body before standing up straight. you turn around to face the crowd and you walked a few inches from him. you bend over with your back arched and your hands on your knees. you whine your hips being sure to slowly move in circles occasionally toking your hips to the side. sliding down to the floor with your ass in the air you continue to circle your hips. “they love the way i ride it. they love the way i ride it.”

Kirishima watching your every move, feeling very hot now having a full view of your ass in his face. his bottom lip found their way between his teeth as he didn’t let his eyes off you like your hip land flat on the floor in a fast motion causing your ass to jiggle. you turn around on your back, slowly moving your upper half off the floor until you sat up. with your arms grazing over your body brushing over your breast. you give them a slight squeeze and made a lewd face that makes Kirishima’s head loll back to the side as he made a pained expression showing his desperation. you stood to your feet and took your shoes off as a part of the dance. “i do it to him right, it’s like mmh-mmh good.” you bend your knees going down so you're on your toe and open your legs so Kirishima can see. you go into a split from here and move up and down.

“yes y/n!!!” Mina cheered for you. your eyes stay on Kirishima as you blew him a kiss. he smiled and motions you over to him. you crawl on all fours you stop before Kirishima. you move your hands up his body to his neck as he tilts your head up and looks at you. “baby, i need you.” you settle both your hands on his arm and take his fingers into mouth humming around them. “shit.” he swears.

pulling away you inch away a bit before putting your head down to the floor. using your arms to brace yourself, you use your legs to push off the ground so that you are on your head. you open your legs and move them gradually making them wave. leaning back you rest your legs on Kirishima’s thighs. he comes down positioning a hand behind your head and one around your waist pulling your body up. you encircle your arms around his neck having him extra close to your face. “Woo!!!” Kaminari and Hagakure shouted for you two as everyone roared as well.

“he love the way i ride it. he love the way i ride it.” you sang to Kirishima as you move your hips against him. you grind onto him. Kirishima lets out a groan. “holy fuck baby.” he pulls you closer by the arm around your waist and bucks up into you, using the hand on the back of your neck to pull you into a needy kiss. you kiss him back moving your tongue against his. you could feel his dick cock hardened through his jeans. it pressed right against your now soaked panties under your dress.

you move legs so that your feet were also set on his thighs. moving your lips down to his neck you still grind against him. you hear him let out a breathy moan and lean his head back, eyes squeezed shut. “y/n... i-i can’t.” he whines and moves his hand down to your ass. you twerk your ass against his hand. he smacks your ass and grabs it, using it as leverage to grind you harder down on him and buck up into you.

“you like this?” you could hear him whimper out a ‘yes’ as he still grinds your down onto him you pull away so that you sit upright on his hard member. you twerk your ass and smile at him. you lightly bounce on him causing him to slightly set off his quirk. pulling you back into him, he places your head on his shoulder and moves his hands under your dress.

without even thinking he moves your dress up so that your ass is on full exhibition for all to see. “YESSSS Y/N!!!!” Aoyama cheers for you. Kirishima lands a hard smack to your ass feeling the skin jiggle and you flinch in his lap with a moan in his ear. he bunches your panties and pulls it between your ass. “this is all mine. tonight you’re gonna get it.” he says. you lean into his lips giving him a faint kiss.

you fix yourself and moved so that you were standing again. swiveling around you strut away before coming to a stop. you reach under your dress and removed your panties. you threw it towards Kirishima and walked away. everyone went wild. then the music ended. “give it up for y/n!” Mina spoke through the mic. everyone clapped for you and you gleam taking a bow. “thank you all for making this night a memorable and happy night for my sexy warrior Eijirou Kirishima.” you direct toward Kirishima who hand your panties in hand and watching you with hooded eyes. “i love you baby.” you said to him.

“y/n that was fricken amazing! look.” Hagakure showed you her phone. you watched as you and Kirishima grind against each, kissing and moaning. you felt your face heat with embarrassment. “oh my god. i did that.” you laughed and hid your face in your hands. “girl there’s nothing to be afraid of, we all know what goes on behind the close door.” Aoyama leaned in his hands and winked at you. “and from the looks of it, Kirishima appeared to be enjoying himself as well.” your friend implied at the phone to when Kirishima had rolled your dress up and slapped your ass. “by the way, nice ass.” Mina winked at you.

“Kirishima bro how does it feel?” Kaminari and Sero surround Kirishima as he walked back to the booth. “you have no idea bro.” he smirks looking at you as you talked with your friends. “dude you were going all out. grabbing her ass like it’s no one’s business.” Sero shows him the video. he watches as his hands grabbed on your ass grinding into you. he could feel his dick twitch against his thigh from the view of your ass. “you look a bit excited there shitty hair.” Bakugou spoke suggestively. Kirishima moved his hands to cover his prominent boner. “oh, he’s ready.” Jirou laughed. “Kiri’s gonna get some tonight!” Tetsutetsu chimed.

“babe, you ready to go home?” Kirishima came up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist. you shiver as his teeth rake against your ear. “oop, y/n. looks like you won’t be able to walk for days.” your best friend wooed. you only laugh, jokingly telling them to shut up. “yeah. you ready?” you replied to Kirishima. he nods his head nuzzled into your neck. “okay. lemme get my panties to put back on.” you ran your hands through his hair. “no i’ll think i’ll keep it. makes things more interesting.” he says to you. your friends hear and squeal. “y/n is getting fucked senseless tonight!!” Mina hollers. he looks at her from your neck. “you have no idea.” turning you around his arms, he picks you up and wraps your legs on his midsections. he slaps your ass and kisses your neck. he gathers your belongings and says goodbyes and goodnights to everyone, walking out the door with you.

you all know what happened after that

part 2

177 notes · View notes