#this was inspired by when parents do this to their kids after finding out they like one thing and buying that thing over and over

[nerdygirlramblings]

omegaverse 141

a/n part of this once again inspired by @dragonnarrative-writes and their comment on a previous chapter. also, if you have ideas for a title, that'd be great 😂

cw: a/b/o dynamics and typical omegaverse breeding (m! and f! omegas can get pregnant) mentioned

previous

In the interim between your meeting with Captain Price and dinner with the task force you call your family pack. You know your moms and dad will give you their honest opinions, and right now you want that more than anything.

"Hey pretty girl," Dad says when he picks up the video call. "Everything okay? You usually don't call on a weekday unless we've planned it." For a moment you simply take in his smile and the way he's trying to reassure you.

You deflect. "How are you feeling, Dad?" He's carrying another litter, and after losing the last two, you know how important it is to everyone that this one is successful.

"Your moms have pretty much put me on bed rest," he says, rolling his eyes. "But you called us, honey, what's going on?"

You sigh. This is what you called them for. "Well, I wanted your opinion on something," you tell him.

"Just my opinion, or do you want the moms' too?"

You tell him you want everyone's opinion, so he moves through your childhood home to where your moms are, each room he passes drawing forth another bittersweet memory that has you missing him and your pack even more.

He finds your moms in your childhood bedroom, being transformed into a nursery, again. He sits on the rocking chair you remember, the one that floated between the three kids' bedrooms each time there was a new litter. Once your moms are standing behind Dad, you tell everyone about the offer to join Price's task force, and by extension his pack.

The more you tell them, the more your mind snags on how appealing being part of a pack is. But you can't help but be scared of the implications of that desire. Despite how Price laid things out, it's going to be hard enough to prove you're worthy of being on the 141, and if you become part of their pack, you'll never escape the talk about sleeping your way on the task force.

Your parents can tell your mind is somewhere else when you hear Mum insert your name into Bowie's "Space Oddity."

"Sorry, Mum. Wha' was i'?"

"I was just saying this - the task force, I mean - sounds like a great career opportunity. But I can't abide how much more danger this puts you in."

Mama adds, "Sounds like this alpha knew how to broach this. Didn't cock it up. And I agree with Mum, this is much more dangerous than what yer doing now. But sweetie, ya didn't see yerself when ya talked about what this would mean ta ya. And what doors it might open for other omegas like your brother."

You tear up. Both your moms see this for the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity it is. You notice no one's mentioned the other half of Price's offer. "Dad?" you prompt, "Wha' da you think?"

Dad watches you for a few minutes, smiling but sad: you can see it in his eyes. "I think you need to say yes, honey. Even if it scares us more, i's the right thing fer you." Your moms don't chime in; they don't need to. But you need want their thoughts on becoming a pack omega, Dad's in particular.

"And the other part?" you ask quietly, looking away.

"Honey, becoming pack omega fer yor moms was one of the hardest and easiest decisions I ever made. I love yer moms," you watch their faces through his declaration, both putting a comforting hand somewhere on him, "and they gave me all of you pups. If Price is as good an alpha as he is a Captain, if 'e's a guiding hand for his pack, then you couldn't have a better mate. In the end, trust your omega."

And that's the crux of the matter isn't it. Your omega has been scratching at your hind brain all afternoon because she wants to take Price up on both offers as soon as possible, but you need to be smart about optics and your career.

You tell your parents you love them and thank them for their honesty, promising to tell them what you decide before the ink dries. You end the call with a few minutes to spare before dinner and take that time to pull your emotions together.

next

[triglycercule]

oh yeah before i forget cute mttpoly headcanon because i said so: when killer finds out (through SOME way of means. he has his ways) that dust and horror like something then at every chance he can he goes and finds that thing for them :3 because I SAID SO AND IT'S CUTE ‼️‼️ (something something killer has no idea how to properly show affection and appreciation after believing his whole life was meant to cause pain and suffering to those close to him and now that he's trying he does silly goofy stuff like this hehe,,,,,,, dust is DROWNING in piles of fluffy blankets and books. horror cannot keep up with eating the amount of snacks killer keeps stealing for him 😞😞😞)

[murderdogwater]

How the Bachelors and Bachelorettes react to your child having magic:

Haley: Surprisingly, not surprised, she says she has odd vague memories of being able to breathe underwater as a little kid, but that ability was gone once she was a tween. You start to question her heritage after one of your kids runs an errand for the fish in your fish pond...

Maru: What! WHAT!? Why is the baby surrounded by small balls of light? What are the balls of light? What's going on?! You have to explain this slowly to her that those are fairies and they've taken a liking to your child. She needs to study this... is her child some kind of scientific anomaly? Should she call Demetrius?

Penny: She almost has a heart attack when your child throws a fit, and the entire living room immediately bursts into vines and leaves. She knows this isn't normal, but she wants to protect her child. So she calms them down and calls you and asks what the heck is going on. She isn't fully relieved when you explain, but at least you've explained.

Leah: When her family told her that parenting was hard, she didn't expect to be watching her child actually talk to the wood for her sculptures, and it changed in their palm. She talks to them, moves them away, and asks you for an answer. Suddenly, she starts to understand how you've made so much progress on the farm in so little time.

Abigail: Not surprised, she laughs as the baby sits on the floor in the living room and chews their way through a wood block with no issues. She seems surprised that you're so surprised. A conversation with Caroline and Pierre reveals that Abigail has always found a way to chew through just about anything, even metal. You should maybe watch what your baby is eating from now on.

Emily: Not at all shocked, spent the whole pregnancy/adoption process feeling the baby's aura, and she knew they'd be special. When the baby started glowing, she smiled with so much love in her eyes. You do have to explain the forest magic to her when you find your child being babysat by a bunch of junimos, but she welcomes them into the house anytime.

Sam: He's singing a song with your child around the farm when the flowers in the grass seem to be getting weirdly... large... the more your kid sings, the bigger the surrounding foliage gets. He's surprised that your child's little singing voice is making plants grow, doesn't fully freak out, and keeps trying it on different plants. When you get back, your field is full of giant crops you've never even seen before. He sheepishly apologies but is super interested to find out that his kid is magic

Shane: He's weirded out when your child hatches a purple ostrich after asking to help with eggs. But then again, he can't judge... he created blue chickens... but he gets concerned when your kid is having full conversations with the chickens... and seems to be getting answers back. You explain the magic in the valley, and he starts to question if the alcohol has fully messed up his brain or something.

Elliott: He's always said your child was special... he didn't think they were special enough that their tiny baby hands could bring the plants in his cabin back to life even after years of being watered with sea water. He's both filled with questions and inspiration for a new book, but questions first, he wants to know everything.

Sebastian: He finds out when your child seems to have a weird connection to your slime hutch. They keep walking over there and crying about not being allowed to go inside. Eventually, they do get inside somehow, and Seb fears the worst... but he finds your child giggling and covered in the slimes with no issues and no slime charmer ring. How? Even you don't know, but you do have to explain some of the other magic around Pelican town. He knew about the monsters and the weird animals, but he's so invested when you tell him about all the other things. He still wants your child to be safe, though, so no more slime hutch adventures for them for a while, at least not without you.

Alex: Alex has always wished his mom was still alive to meet your child. He plays his mother's lullaby every night to put them to sleep. One night, he hears the baby crying, and when he walks into the nursery to put them back to them back to sleep the music box starts playing, and when he wipes the sleep out of his eyes he swears he sees the ghost of his mother rocking your baby to sleep. He freezes, watching for a moment before your baby finally drifts off, and his mothers spirit fades. He wants to cry, but he checks on the baby and goes to wake you up and talk about the experience. You have to explain the valleys magic and how you've had similar experiences with your grandfather's spirit. Alex hugs you. He's just happy you've given your child a chance to meet his mom... even if it's just once.

Harvey: Your child is kinda sick, not anything life threatening but certainly not very comfortable for your child. Harvey was working on making some soup for your child when they called out for some water. Harvey fills the glass with water, but it's quickly forgotten when the soup starts to over boil. When Harvey finally refocused, the glass was gone as well as the medicine and the tissues. When he goes to your childs room, they're surrounded by junimos bouncing up and down with joy after helping them. He freaks out and moves then away before calling you in a full-on panic attack. You run home and have to put your child back to bed and calm Harvey down and explain that the junimos like to help. He calms down when he finds out they aren't harmful but wishes you would have explained sooner.

[itsthecline]

INTRODUCING… LONG TERM GF!READER

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ long term gf!reader who had been around forever , longer than rose , longer than wheezie even. she grew up next to the camerons , and so she always knew them— it helped that their parents were friends. she did girls days with her mom , sarah , and mrs. cameron once a month every month. after mrs. cameron passed away , they continued to do it , inviting wheezie to join them. mrs. cameron loved her , and always poked fun at her son for having a crush on her.

long term gf!reader who asked rafe out. it was fifth grade at lunch. she walked up to him and his friends at the table , standing over all of them. “do you want to be my boyfriend , rafe?” she didn’t realize that mrs. cameron saying ‘just ask him , honey’ implied not doing it at school lunch in front of everyone. obviously , a young rafe was a little embarrassed , cheeks and ears turning red , but he nodded and you skipped away happily. who knew they’d actually last?

long term gf!reader who was there for rafe for everything no matter what. she knew from a very young age that he was her soulmate , and so she also knew she had to stick it through. to be fair , it was easy when rafe lied about certain things so nothing seemed as bad. even if he hadn’t , he was sure she would go along with it anyway , but he felt better keeping her away from the dirty details as much as possible.

long term gf!reader who wanted babies and wanted them soon. after they got engaged probably when they were in barbados she kept bringing it up. “when are we going to have babies?” “how long do i have to wait for you to give me what i want?” “can we try for a baby now?” it was incessant , and rafe didn’t really mind. he wanted kids with you someday too , but he always said no. “no , honey. not yet,” he’d coo. when they did decide to start trying , she got pregnant right away. she dyed her hair back to her natural hair color , knowing it would be too much maintenance to keep bleaching it , and she went full mommy mode.

long term gf!reader who’s best friend was louisa cameron. genuinely , the youngest cameron stole her heart the minute she was introduced. she always babysat her when needed , had play dates with her growing up. she always loved babies , so wheezie was perfect. as they both grew up , she was the one to invite wheezie on the girls days. they’d have their own sleepovers despite rafe being annoyed she was sleeping in wheezie’s room down the hall rather his.

a/n okay , so this is going to be a regular series with some smau in there as well , so the fc is nicola bc she’s hot but ofc picture whoever you please for the parts that aren’t smau! this is going to be a lot of posts of them through their relationships ( and maybe some fics about the actual obx plotline thrown in every once in awhile ) but i want you guys sending ideas in as well because we all see rafe in a different light and i want to encapsulate all of that in this universe’s rafe:)

also: i was doomscrolling the other day and saw a series about high school girlfriend!reader and it inspired me to start this as well… as soon as i find that account u bet ur ass i’m sending y’all over there<3 and if y’all know who it is plssssss pls pls lmk

taglist @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account

[fairyofhee]

the space between.

PAIRING. heeseung x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS. It was a mutual agreement between you and the boy with high status and reputation to say that the kiss you both shared was a mistake and meant absolutely nothing. But while trying to win over your crush, you were distracted by that mistaken kiss from the boy who's won over your heart.

WORD COUNT. 16.3k

GENRE. smut, slight love triangle, rich!heeseung, basketball player!heeseung, flower shop worker!reader, angst, hurt, fluff, bickering, some themes inspired by f4 thailand

WARNINGS. 18+ only. MINORS DNI. profanity, kissing, fingering, oral sex (m and f receiving), protected intimate sex

—

I. THE SPACE OF HIM

Everywhere he went, his presence was distracting, almost intoxicating.

It was pretty typical to say that Lee Heeseung had an infamous reputation of being the golden boy. Taking the captain spot of your school’s basketball team, the privilege of freedom to do whatever he wanted, and a lot of money based on the fact that he came from a pretty well-off family.

He had everything you didn’t.

He tended to get everything handed to him, considering how admirable he was to other people. They looked up to him as if he was a god, and it wouldn’t be a surprise if it had to do with how rich he was. Everyone in his way stepped aside and would let him walk through wherever.

And literally everything was handed to him. A true spoiled kid, his mom hired a personal maid so he wouldn’t do a thing himself.

You didn’t live a life Lee Heeseung did. He lived easy in luxury, unlike you, who had to work your ass off. While he was out celebrating the win of the basketball game with his team, you were either studying for your exams or working your shift at the flower shop. You were a hard-worker, a perfectionist who simply wanted to please your strict parents. A life without luxury costed your social life, and it was difficult to make friends as freedom never came your way.

You were grateful to have your cousin Mina, who often helped to break you out of your shell with her popularity as one of the head cheerleaders. After much convincing to your parents, she would invite you to hangouts at her house which were merely cover ups to sneak out and attend parties.

Mina insisted that you both should attend tonight’s party at Park Sunghoon’s house. After working an eight hour shift at the shop, you were tired and didn’t want to attend. You let out a frustrated groan when Mina practically drags you inside the house.

The school’s basketball team won another game that made them advance into the playoffs — a step closer to championships. Of course, the players wanted to celebrate, or throw a rager perhaps.

The only thing that you were looking forward to tonight was seeing your crush who was one of the players on the team. Oddly enough, Park Sunghoon is aware of your crush on him because of Mina’s little slip up. It took a few weeks to forgive her but now that he is aware, Sunghoon began to initiate conversations with you and became your friend.

Based on the small interactions, it seemed like he didn’t find your feelings for him weird. It was also hard to tell if he felt the same way.

"I'm going to find Chae," Mina raised her voice over the loud music, "Go have fun."

You slightly rolled your eyes watching Mina disappear. "How fun," you mumbled after taking in your surroundings. There were a lot of people making out, drunk people running into you, and it smelt like piss. You’re starting to regret coming here.

Exploring the house, you try to find the kitchen to get a drink and hope to run into Sunghoon, but you were suddenly pushed and ended up on the floor.

“What the hell?” You exclaimed, looking up to the person who pushed you. It was a girl, someone you recognized because they were on the cheerleading team with Mina.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going bitch,” she laughed while leaving you on the floor, not bothering to help you up. You quickly brought yourself to your feet and grab the cup from the girl’s hand, throwing the alcohol towards her. But unfortunately it lands on someone else.

You cover your mouth with a hand, glaring at no other than Lee Heeseung who was looking down at his soaked shirt and already feeling a stickiness on his skin.

“Shit,” you mumbled, glaring at the boy who turned his attention to you. Surprisingly, he didn’t look pissed off — unlike the girl you wanted to cuss out who tried to drag him away. Heeseung still had his eyes on you but not one word came out of his mouth.

The crowd was beginning to build up as you scan the room, making you incredibly anxious.

“Are you okay?” announced a familiar voice who then stood in front of you blocking your view from Heeseung. It was Sunghoon, thank god, you thought. And before you knew it, he was pulling you away from the crowd of people and leading the way to the kitchen.

You finally got what you wanted tonight, a chance to talk to Sunghoon. But rather than excitement, you feel like shit. You were embarrassed about throwing alcohol into Lee Heeseung’s face. Out of all people, why’d it have to be him?

"Did you see everything?" You groaned out while washing your hands then whispering a 'thank you' when Sunghoon handed you a paper towel.

Sunghoon shook his head, "I heard there was a fight- or something going on, but then I saw the crowd with you in the middle and wanted to make sure that you were okay."

That giddy feeling was back again. “Thank you for checking up on me," you gave a smile. "Someone ran into me which made the alcohol spill.”

Sunghoon laughed, "Is that all what happened?”

“Heeseung's shirt was practically soaked." He didn't believe your half-assed story.

"No," you shook your head, holding in a grin.

"Everything's fine, Heeseung will get over it," Sunghoon declared after remembering how defeated you looked when he first found you.

Park Sunghoon was always the one to make you feel better. Even with the smallest acts from him, it was impossible not to like him.

You recall when your coding class test results were out and you failed, it was clearly evident in your face. Sunghoon noticed and approached you before giving you words of encouragement. “This is only the second test, Y/N, you’ll do better next time,” you remember him saying.

"So, congratulations on the game tonight." You changed the topic of conversation, hoping that he'll keep you company the entire night.

"Thanks," he grinned. "I haven't seen you at the games yet, you should watch us play." You sighed, "I've been so busy with work, but l'll the catch the next one. Playoffs right?"

Although it was exhausting, you were already thinking of another lie in your head to tell to your parents so that you can attend the playoff game.

Sunghoon nodded his head before reaching for the cooler in front of him, grabbing two drinks, handing a soda to you. "I'll try not to show off."

He carefully watches your reaction as you roll your eyes, trying not to laugh at his remark. You wanted to ask more about Sunghoon's position on the team, just to get the conversation flowing but he took your chance to speak.

"Someone's looking for me so I have to go. You should look for Mina," He says after finishing his beer. “Don’t run into anymore trouble," was all Sunghoon said before he left.

Your cheeks heat up watching Sunghoon leave.

The conversation was short, but it made your entire night. You don't feel so terrible anymore about the incident earlier.

You get out of the kitchen and search the entire house for Mina. She was in the living room dancing with a drink in her hand, having the time of her life. She was your ride home so you'd hope that she was sober enough to drive when it's the time to leave. You decided to wait for her outside, but before you could leave, you noticed Sunghoon standing in the corner near the DJ.

He wasn't alone. Your heart palpitates, watching as Sunghoon leans to whisper into a blonde girl's ear with a red solo cup in his hand. The girl reciprocated his action, whispering into his ear.

"If you stare too long, he's gonna notice," Mina murmurs when she catches you staring at the boy from across the room who was now dancing with the girl, bodies close and on each other.

"Is that his girlfriend?" You ask, hurt evident in your voice. Mina nudges your arm, bringing your full attention to her. "Do you want to go home?"

You thought about it for a while, "No, I'll just wait for you. I don't want to ruin your fun."

“Are you sure? We can go.”

After convincing Mina to stay, you sat on the stairs in front of house. You didn't want to make assumptions but the way that they were close and when Sunghoon was in a rush to leave makes you believe that they have something going on.

As you sit alone in your thoughts, you realize that it's getting late. You've only been at this party for an hour and so much shit has already happened. You had a feeling that Mina was already drunk so she was unable to take you home.

With this given circumstance and your parents expecting you to be home, you had to take an uber. As if your night couldn't get any worse, a couple started making out next you while you were trying to get wifi on your phone.

You walk upstairs and knock on a bedroom's door, hoping that inside was empty. Walking in the room when no one answered, your eyes widen unconsciously, looking at the one person that you didn't want to run into. Heeseung was sitting on the couch alone with a different shirt on, and the one that was soaked by you was laid out on the bed.

"Are you here to apologize for getting me wet earlier?" he broke the silence, not one hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Please don't say it like that," you scoff and cringe at the ambiguity. "And no, but if you want an apology you'd have to ask."

Heeseung paused at your response then tilted his head quizzically, "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with your boyfriend?" He teased, trying to get a reaction out of you.

"He's not my boyfriend," you walked closer, taken aback. "He's with someone else tonight."

"So you wanted to find some company?"

"I'm trying to find signal since there isn't any in this house," you peered intently at him. "Mina is drunk and I have no ride home, I'm trying to get an uber," you say while taking a seat next to him.

You weren't sure why you stayed but Heeseung was probably right, you wanted some company.

As you try to order an uber you feel his stare, "Why are you here alone?" You ask.

"Shouldn't you be with your girlfriend?" You think back about the girl who pushed you, who laughed about it then attempted to drag Heeseung away.

He let out a low laugh, "She's not my girlfriend.”

You turn your gaze to him, "Why not?" Your arms were crossed to taunt him, "Because Mr. Perfect doesn't do girlfriends?"

There was a long stretch of silence after your comment, Heeseung avoiding your eyes until he gains the courage to meet your gaze again. "If anything, you're Ms. Perfect.” He retorts.

"How?” Confusion crossed your face.

“Hmm,” Heeseung placed his hand on his chin as if he was thinking. “Perfect grades, working everyday to help your parents, and refusing to go out because you don't want lie to them."

Your brow furrowed, "How do you know all this?"

"Your cousin talks too much."

Of course Mina would tell him. Maybe it's best to not tell her anything from now on, you thought.

"My parents have given me a lot and I don't want to disappoint them," you explain the perfectionist side of you. "At the same time, they're always pushing me and sometimes I can't handle it."

"I get it," Heeseung stared at you, eyes filled with mutual understanding. You shake your head, not having a clear comprehension of his response.

"My mom pushes me to be this perfect business partner,” he starts. "I'm expected to attend these business meetings every week and listen like I understand what's going on just because I'm the son and future owner of the number one real estate company in the city."

"And honestly, I don't know shit. But I want to make my mom happy so I try my best to understand," Heeseung finishes and watches as you listen attentively without saying a word. "Sorry," he lets out low laugh while scratching his head, “You probably don't care-"

"No," you interject, "I-I didn't know that."

"You must have a lot of pressure. Especially balancing that with school and basketball. I'm sorry you have to go through this," you voice out your sympathy. You and Heeseung were more similar than you'd thought, and it was as if you were on different sides of the same coin. You felt sorry for how he has to run a huge business at a young age, but you can also relate with having to please your parents and expecting to be perfect.

"I'm also sorry for throwing alcohol in your face," you rush out, deciding to lighten the mood. He laughs, "It's fine, I should've seen it coming.”

Your phone then buzzes, it was a text from Mina.

mina: just saw park leave with a girl. i didn't see who it was but i’m sorry babe :(

Your expression flipped like a switch.

“What’s wrong?” Heeseung asked with an obvious look of concern on his face.

You shake your head and try to plaster on a fake smile, ignoring the heavy feeling in your chest, “It’s nothing, everything’s cool.”

He notices your pout and disappointed expression, “Nothing? You seem upset.”

A low sigh leaves your mouth as you place your phone on your lap. “It’s really stupid but Sunghoon left with a girl,” you shrugged while trying to forget the image of your crush leaving with someone else.

“He probably took her home.”

You try to meet Heeseung’s eyes, waiting for his reaction because you expected him to laugh in your face and make a stupid remark. Instead, he’s looking down and returning your same pout, possibly collecting his thoughts and words.

It was then too silent for a few seconds, except for the sounds coming from downstairs. You left Heeseung speechless but what was he supposed to say? He wasn’t even considered your friend.

You were maybe too open about your crush and Heeseung was probably tired of hearing it. You took his silence as a hint and decide to go back downstairs to wait for your uber. You stood from your seat and Heeseung finally looks up.

“How about we forget about him tonight?”

You return his stare, taking your seat back on the couch. “What do you mean?”

Your straight brows furrowed when he wasn’t answering. You almost flinch as Heeseung straightens his posture and moves closer to your face, training his eyes to yours then to your lips.

He’s leaning in and every second that he gets closer, you feel your heart stop. You were supposed to focus on your crush on Sunghoon. Kissing someone else wasn’t on your table.

“Heeseung, we can’t.” You shyly responded and guiltily avoid his stare, choosing to turn your attention to your hands.

“But you want to,” Heeseung softens, gently holding your hand to stop you from leaving. You look into his rounded eyes, filled with desire.

“All you have to say is ‘stop’ then I’ll stop.”

You subtly take a deep breath and study his face. Being this close was new and you can tell Heeseung wants this, he wants to kiss you so bad. You were uncertain if you wanted this too, but his look of desperation was almost too gut churning that you didn’t want to pull away and leave.

You cupped his cheek and made the move to meet your lips on his. First it was soft and languid, his lips tasting like cheap vodka. His fingertips were holding your chin as he sweetly returns your kiss. He was gentle like he wanted to take his time, but you were eager. Maybe it was the adrenaline from reading Mina’s text because you ended up on his lap with his hands on your waist.

You look into his eyes for any signs of discomfort, but his sure grip makes you continue. You reached for his nape to pull him in a deeper kiss, feeling the corners of his mouth raise into a grin. Your eyes roll knowing that he was thinking about your eagerness and how desperate you seemed. He was just smart enough to not comment about it.

A sound comes out of your mouth when Heeseung kisses you harshly before biting and licking on your lower lip, asking for entrance. His grip becomes more firm when you accept. The feeling of him on your mouth causes you to roll your hips, and Heeseung lets out a forced laugh.

You feel his hand slipping under the hem of your shirt and you almost freak out, not knowing what this is leading to. Before you both were able to do anything further, your phone next to you buzzes.

You broke the kiss, catching your breath to reach for your phone to check the notification.

“Ignore it,” Heeseung slurs out before trying to bring his lips on yours once more while adjusting his seated position with you still on his lap.

But you gently push on his shoulder, checking the notification on your phone. “My uber‘s here.”

It was all quick movements when you completely pull away your body and escape his grasp before standing and making yourself look decent. There was a slight delay in your thoughts, not surely processing that you kissed Heeseung.

Your flustered cheeks and beating heart causes you to hesitate, but you managed to move your feet and try to leave until Heeseung’s hand quickly wrapped around your wrist.

“Wait,” Heeseung lets out after a moment of catching his breath, his grip still holding onto you. You turn around to face him as he speaks.

“Let me take you home,” he pleads.

Afraid to look him in eye, you watched as his throat bobbled before moving your eyes to his contact on your warm skin. You’re shaking your head, refusing his offer and at that, he lets go.

“My uber’s already here and you‘ve been drinking, I can taste it,” you retaliate while licking your bottom lip, the taste of him lasting on your lips.

“What about your parents?”

You finally meet Heeseung’s gaze through half-lidded eyes, not noticing a hint of disappointment on his face. “I’ll be fine. Bye Heeseung.”

You left the party and lie in your bed, surprised that you’re not mentally cursing yourself out for initiating the kiss. It was difficult not to replay how his lips were perfectly in-sync with yours and the way he held your body.

You were in disbelief, not expecting yourself to makeout with anyone tonight — someone who wasn’t Sunghoon but let alone, Lee Heeseung.

With everything that happened tonight from Sunghoon leaving with someone else, to Heeseung practically comforting you with his surprisingly good kissing skills, it was unsure to you if what happened was a mistake.

Another notification sound from your phone interrupted your thoughts and you decided to turn off the ringer before checking the message.

Your eyes began to widen while reading Mina’s text.

What the hell? It was another moment of shock, the message confirmed that the girl Sunghoon took home tonight was his sister.

—

It was playoffs day, a few days after your kiss with Heeseung and the confirmation of Sunghoon not having a girlfriend. After finding out that Sunghoon was not dating anyone, that kiss with Heeseung long forgotten to you. It was a stupid mistake due to a rush of hurt feelings.

You were looking forward to the game tonight in which Sunghoon technically invited you to. It was also the first game of the season that you were actually attending, so tonight was going to be fun. With Mina’s help, as usual, you managed to convince your parents that you were going to study at her place.

Now you’re at your school’s gym, lining up to buy a ticket for the big playoff game. Since Mina was cheerleading tonight, you both arrived super early. Taking a seat in the student section, the junior varsity team’s game was starting which meant that the varsity team’s was after. Across from your peripheral vision, you see Sunghoon sitting near the bench. He gave a small wave which made the corners of your mouth upturn into a smile.

You feel your smile drop when you notice Heeseung taking a seat next to him. Sunghoon whispering something in his ear, Heeseung shot his head up and met your gaze. He barely moved a muscle in his face, not expecting you to be here.

You turn your attention to the game and fought the urge to not look in the direction of the two boys. However throughout the game, you didn’t miss the all times Heeseung moved his eyes towards you.

The junior varsity game was over and thankfully, they won. There was a small fifteen minute break until the next game started and the varsity team was getting ready to warm up. Walking back to your seat after taking a trip to the bathroom, you felt a small tap on your shoulder.

“Hey, can we talk?”

Your brows raised when the boy in front of you was not on the court where he was supposed to be, “Shouldn’t you be warming up?”

“We kissed the other night,” he spat out.

You’d hope the conversation that you were avoiding wasn’t happening so soon, especially now before he’s about to play. “We were drunk-“

“I wasn’t drunk- I was tipsy but you certainly weren’t,” he interjects, trying to meet you eye-to-eye but his height causes him to easily hover over you. “I remember everything.”

“Then try to forget about it,” You dismiss his words, “If you’re afraid of me telling anyone then don’t be. I don’t kiss and tell.”

Heeseung finds your remark funny as it was evident in his laugh. “I don’t care if you tell anyone,” he says, looking back to check how much time was left before the game started.

T-8 minutes until the game starts.

You sighed, “Heeseung, what do you want?”

“Why’d you kiss me?”

You feel a lump in your throat, recalling the moment when you initiated the kiss. “Why’d you kiss me back?” You asked, also recalling the moment when he was the one practically begging you to kiss him.

“Wait- you’re the one who actually started it.”

“I asked first.”

You let out a groan, “I was upset about Sunghoon and wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry that I kissed you, promise me that you’ll forget because it was a mistake and meant nothing.”

He was silent, his expression unreadable but you didn’t care to try to figure it out.

“Promise me,” You looked up at him with your pleading doe-eyes — now you were the one practically begging on your knees for a mutual agreement to forget the kiss ever happened.

“I promise.”

“Thank you,” You let out a big sigh of relief before noticing the clock had 5 minutes left.

“The game is about to start, captain.”

Heeseung left without saying another word and you head back to your seat. The game was about to start and you take out your phone to take a picture of Mina as she was cheering on the baseline in her cute uniform.

You watch Sunghoon play, or at least attempt to, since your eyes unconsciously land on Heeseung throughout the entire game. You noticed that something was off. He looked distressed and he wasn’t making any of his shots. It was probably his mother and the business on his mind, you thought. Heeseung’s look of frustration continued until the buzzer of the final second went off.

At the end, your school team won the playoff game and you can’t help but feel worried that something happened to Heeseung.

Once the team headed to their locker room, you and Mina walk back to her car to go home.

“Y/N, Mina,” a voice caught both of your attentions, and it was Sunghoon who was out of breath with sweat glistening on his forehead. He was in casual attire now, his uniform assumingly in his bag that was over his shoulder.

“You did so well tonight! How many points did you score?”

“I think it was 12- I don’t know, I wasn’t counting,” He laughs as a huge smile appears on your face. “Thank you for coming to watch. We’re going to the pizza place down the street.”

You turn to Mina, trying to hide the confusion on your face. “The team usually goes out to eat after the game to celebrate the win,” she tells. “I’m too tired to go, but I can drop you off there?”

“I can bring Y/N there,” Sunghoon murmurs to Mina before turning to you,” If you’re okay with that of course.”

“No- yeah, that sounds great.”

Fighting the urge to scream in excitement was difficult. Park Sunghoon wants to hang out with you? And he’s offering to drive you?

The drive was literally down the street, but the gesture was sweet and your heart felt warm. You weren't sure how you were going to go home but that was problem for later.

“Thank you for letting me hang out,” you say before entering the pizza place with Sunghoon behind you.

Sunghoon then catches up and leads the way, “You came to support the team, of course you’re welcome to hang. I’m glad you came to watch.”

You hold on a big grin, “I’ll make sure to watch more of your games,” your voice was surely going to crack soon.

“I’d like that,” he says before excusing himself to go to the bathroom.

You found Heeseung who was in line to fill his drink and approach him, “Hey, what happened out there captain?” You spoke to him softly after noticing the look of frustration still on his face.

But his expression quickly changed when realizing that it was you talking to him. “I think that was the worst I played all season,” he laughed.

“Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“No everything’s cool,” he shook his head, “I-I was just off today.”

“I think that you played well and helped the team advance to the championships.”

“Thanks,” He grins. “Where’s Mina?”

“She’s at home. She was too tired to come so Sunghoon gave me a ride,” you say while trying to hide the wide smile that slowly crept on your face.

Heeseung raised a brow, “He did?”

You nod. “I also forgot to tell you,” your eyes lit up, “The girl Sunghoon brought home was actually his sister. She was super drunk so they went home.”

Heeseung studied the light in your eyes, “You feel relieved?”

You nod.

“And you still like him?”

“Yes,” you nod again, hearing a breathy laugh coming out of Heeseung’s mouth.

“That’s- great,” he smiled, “I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

Heeseung quickly left the conversation and you by returning to an empty table. You watch as a girl who was still in her cheerleading uniform shows up and sits next to Heeseung. They’re in the booth laughing and you immediately recognize her.

The one who humiliated you, who called you a bitch. You feel a hint of bitterness and don’t have an exact idea as to why you felt this way.

“Who's that girl?” You turn to Sunghoon, “I remember you saved me from her at the party.”

“That’s Ji-ho,” Sunghoon says. “Her and Heeseung have always just been… friends, but I guess they’re finally dating now.”

His girlfriend? Dating? You think back to your kiss and knew how messy things were going to be if she’d ever find out.

—

A week goes by since the playoff game and the night when Sunghoon gave you a ride home, and still, no progress with Sunghoon. It’s as if everything went back to normal. Heeseung and his girlfriend seemed happy (not that you cared) and that kiss was never mentioned again.

The scent of fresh blooms enveloped you as were surrounded by vibrant petals. Working with flowers wasn’t just a job to you, it was a canvas for your creativity. You especially loved working with customers and hearing their stories, knowing that you were part of their special occasions.

It was an everyday routine to organize the cherry blossoms, and overtime, they became your favorite flowers and you hoped to visit a cherry blossom garden someday.

“Hello! This is ‘Our Happy Florists’ located in Seoul,” your voice rang through the phone. “How can I help you?”

“Hey, am I speaking to Park Sunghoon’s girlfriend?”

You jumped out of your seat, “I’m sorry, who is this?”

“The one you kissed at the party, does it ring a bell?” The voice laughs in amusement.

“Heeseung?” You raised your voice then lowered it, “I told you not to mention it again. I will end this call right now.”

“Wait- don’t hang up. Sorry, I won’t mention it again,” his laugh remains.

“Um,” you cleared your throat,” How do you know where I work?”

“Your cousin.”

Of course Mina would, you groaned. “Why exactly are you calling?”

“I need advice. Please,” he pleads.

You put the phone down for a second to look over at your supervisor who was busy putting away flowers. “I’m trying not to get fired right now, Heeseung,” you say, almost whispering. “But if it’s urgent you can stop by during my lunch break.”

“Really?” he sounds surprised, almost elated.

“I’m not gonna repeat myself, but my break is in an hour.”

You find it odd that he went out of his way to ask you advice, but you also found it odd that you accepted without hesitation.

And so exactly one hour later, you were on your break and Heeseung was standing outside with his hands in his pocket and eyes roaming around the shop.

“So why can’t you talk to me at school? Why come to my work?”

He crosses his arms, “I’m a busy person and you know that.”

You roll your eyes, “Yeah, busy at parties.”

“Ha-ha,” he says with sarcasm, “I’m free after school on Tuesdays so I’m not busy today.”

“Whatever, you said you needed advice?”

You weren’t sure if he was worth your time. Were you considered his friend? Friends don’t kiss right? Stop — Why are you thinking about the kiss?

“You’re a good girl right?”

His choice of words cause your eyes to squint and he notices while exhaling a laugh, succeeding at trying to get a reaction out of you.

“I meant that you have perfect grades and you’re a good daughter to your parents. I need help with my mom.”

“I want to work on bigger projects and show her that I am responsible enough to handle them. And maybe even speak at meetings, but she doesn’t trust me. How can I earn her trust?”

Now you furrow your brow, intrigued while also in thought.

“Be consistent and confident. If you show her you’re working hard, she’ll start to trust you.”

“But does that work? Do your parents trust you?”

You shrugged. “They definitely trust me, but they’re just overly protective.”

“That makes sense,” Heeseung replied, nodding slowly as he processed the advice.

A period of quietness hung between you two, the noise of the wind fading into the background.

“Anything else you need?” You finally asked, breaking the silence.

Heeseung shook his head. “No, nothing else. I will take your advice, thank you.”

“Sure,” you said, trying to gauge where this was heading but he simply left and you returned to the shop.

He took his own precious time to drive to your work and have a conversation about advice on how to handle his mom. Weird, you thought.

—

A cold Monday morning, you were irritated and stressed out. Assignments piled up, deadlines loomed, and the weight of expectations — both from school and your part-time job — felt heavier than ever. However, your parents seemed to leave you alone and minded their own business lately, which was a glimmer of peace amidst the chaos.

In the bustling hallway, you spotted Sunghoon leaving his locker as soon as he spotted you. He started waving and approaching you.

“Y/N, hey!”

“Hey.”

“Have you started on Ms. Kim’s project yet?” he asked.

“No, not at all. I haven’t even found my partners yet.”

“You’re friends with Heeseung, right?”

You hesitated. “We talked a few times.” And kissed, but it was a mistake and we’re supposed to forget that it happened. “Did he say that?”

Sunghoon nodded. “We’re looking for a third person to join us, and he suggested you since he says we’re all friends.”

Friends? Does he mean it?

“Yeah, sure, I’ll join you guys. We can work on it tomorrow at my place? Since I know Tuesdays are free for you guys. And my grandma will just be at the house, not my parents.”

“That sounds perfect, just text me your address! I’ll let Heeseung know. Thanks, Y/N.” Sunghoon replied, a grin spreading across his face.

As he turned to leave, you felt a mix of excitement and nerves. Taking a deep breath, you pulled out your phone and sent a quick message to Sunghoon, your heart racing at the thought of him being at your house.

sunghoon: thanks for your addy!

sunghoon: can’t wait for tomorrow!

—

Today was your study date- or should you even call it that? You stood in the living room, glancing around with a mix of excitement and nerves. The afternoon light streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the space.

You set to work, your science textbook and notebooks were stacked neatly on the coffee table, and you arranged some colorful pens nearby for good measure.

With a quick check of the clock, you raced to the kitchen to grab a plate of snacks — sliced fruit and a few bags of chips. You set everything out on a small tray, arranging it carefully to look inviting.

You were glad that your parents were away for the weekend at a work trip and that your grandma, watching you, was super chill, not minding that two boys were coming over for a project hang out.

The soft sound of the doorbell sent a jolt of nerves through you. You hurried to answer and as you opened the door, you glanced at Heeseung, who stood shifting on his feet with a tray of drinks in his hand.

“You’re 10 mins early,” you said, raising an eyebrow.

“I can leave then come back,” he replied with a half-smile.

“Get inside.”

He walked inside, peering around your home and following you into the kitchen before speaking.

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

“For the drinks? Thank you.”

“No, your boyfriend is coming over because I suggested that the three of us should work together,” he places the tray of drinks on the countertop. “And I figured that if I leave early, you guys can spend time alone.”

You shake your head, “You don’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, well, I thought it’d be nice.”

“Also your advice worked, my mom’s slowly but surely finally letting me handle the big projects and she even wants me to attend training workshops.”

“I’m glad to hear that my advice worked,” you chuckled, running a hand through your hair.

“It took a bit of convincing, but I didn’t think she’d actually take me seriously at first.”

“Well, you just need to show her that you are committed, that you could handle it,” You said, your eyes sparkling with encouragement which makes Heeseung smile.

“I have a few questions,” he suddenly says.

“Hmm let me guess,” you replied. “It’s not about the project or your mom?”

“Did you kiss him yet?”

You raised an eyebrow, confusion flickering across your face. “No, nothing’s happened between us.”

Heeseung chewed on his bottom lip and let silence pass by.

The air between you crackled with unspoken tension as Heeseung suddenly walked towards you. You could feel the electric pull of his proximity, a magnetic force that had been intensifying ever since he’d stepped inside your house. Your heart raced as you looked up at Heeseung, it felt like deja vu when his doe eyes are searching yours for permission.

You try to hide the fact that you were panicking when Heeseung leaned closer. You had nowhere to go, feeling the kitchen counter behind you. His breath was warm against your face and he licked his bottom lip. You knew he wanted to kiss you again and for a second, you would’ve let him.

“Heeseung,” you said, your voice betraying a mixture of frustration and vulnerability. “I still have feelings for Sunghoon.”

You reached out, placing a hand gently on his arm, “And you have a girlfriend.”

He laughs. “You’re trying to find excuses to not kiss me right now even though you want to.”

Your hands meet his chest as you gently push him. “You’re annoying,” the hint of a smile tugging at your lips, “You know that our first kiss was a mistake right? I don’t want to be a homewrecker.”

You watched as he took a hesitant step forward. “So you’re saying that if I was single, you wouldn’t be opposed to kissing me again?”

You try to find your voice, a simple response to reject him, but couldn’t.

“I’m not dating Ji-ho,” he shakes his head, “We’re just-“

The sound of the doorbell interrupts him.

“We’re just friends, it’s nothing serious.” He admits.

“That’s probably Sunghoon at the door,” you turn away and head for the front door, trying to keep your cool and shake off what just happened.

“Hey, glad you made it,” you greeted as Sunghoon stepped into your home.

“Thanks again for letting us come over. I think Heeseung should be coming soon,” he replied, glancing around.

“Oh, he’s here already- he’s in the kitchen,” you said, motioning toward the back of the house.

“Surprised he’s early, he’s usually late to things like this,” Sunghoon remarked with a chuckle.

You lead Sunghoon into the kitchen and he greets Heeseung. You all moved into the living room to brainstorm ideas for the project.

“So our assigned topic is biomechanics. Does anyone have ideas? Or something creative that we should do?” you asked, sitting on the floor leaning forward on the coffee table.

“I was thinking we can go the simple route with a presentation. It doesn’t have to be super detailed, but it can include our information or maybe we can show the concept with a video,” Sunghoon suggested.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” you agreed.

“Since Sunghoon and I are athletes — no offense, Y/N — we can record a video of us playing basketball while explaining the mechanism,” Heeseung added.

“That’s actually a good idea,” you said, your eyes lighting up.

As you continued to brainstorm ideas for the project, the weight of your feelings began to feel less daunting. With every shared laugh, casual touch, or agreement with Sunghoon, you found yourself enjoying it more than you should. Maybe this project would lead to something even more.

And after a while of working on the actual outline of the project, Heeseung stood and stretched, checking the time on his phone.

“I got to head out,” he said, glancing at you as he made his plan to leave early, hoping to create a moment for you and Sunghoon.

“I have to go too,” Sunghoon then chimed in, clearly wanting to leave together with Heeseung.

Sunghoon was oblivious, but by the look on your face, Heeseung could tell that you were disappointed.

“My mom is calling me to go over training, but Sunghoon, you should help Y/N clean up.” Heeseung suggested, still pushing to create a moment for you and Sunghoon.

“No, it’s okay, Sunghoon says he has to go.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind,” Sunghoon replied.

“It’s fine, there’s barely anything to clean up.” You couldn’t deny that you were disappointed, but there was no point in trying to force something that clearly wasn’t going to happen.

“I’m glad we were able to get a majority of the presentation done,” you exhaled, leading Sunghoon and Heeseung towards the door.

“Definitely. We make a great team,” Sunghoon said, looking back at you, his eyes sparkling. “We should definitely hang out again, just for fun.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. You reached the door, opening it wider, you wanted Sunghoon to stay, to prolong this moment, but he left with a simple ‘goodbye’.

Heeseung lingered for a while and and you followed him onto the porch. “Sorry, my plan didn’t work.”

“It’s okay, Heeseung,” you managed to reply, forcing your lips into a smile, but your heart wasn’t in it. “You can keep out of this, you know? It’s all too complicated, so I’d rather have everything play out without any scheming.”

He nodded, but just as he turned to leave, he paused, glancing back at you.

“Have a good night, Y/N.”

“Thanks, Heeseung. You too,” you said, your voice soft.

As Heeseung disappeared around the corner, the quiet of your home settled in around you.

You sighed, knowing that the day had been fun and special, but feeling a bittersweet sting. It’s only been two months, but longing for him has felt like forever. Sunghoon was only meant to be your friend, he has always been clear about that.

With a heavy heart, you have accepted the fact that Park Sunghoon doesn't like you back and possibly will never catch feelings for you.

—

Two weeks later and the project was over with. The presentation went smoothly and you received lots of great feedback about the video portion of the project — thanks to Heeseung for his idea.

It was honestly a great time working with both Sunghoon and Heeseung. They were both smart partners and fun to hang around. You’d wonder if things would be different if feelings weren’t involved. Would you all be best friends?

Sadly, you will never know.

Today felt like a regular Friday, but the excitement in the air was evident as students buzzed about the upcoming basketball championship game tonight. You were at the library, studying for an exam, and in walked Sunghoon, a grin spreading across his face. He was the last person you’d expected to see, but perhaps he did mean it when he said he wanted to hang out more.

“Hey, Y/N!” he called, waving as pulled out the seat next to you and sat down. Although you accepted your one-sided feelings, you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Hey, Sunghoon. What’s up?” you asked, closing your textbook.

“I wanted to see if you’d like to come to the championship game tonight,” he said, his eyes bright with enthusiasm. “It’s going to be epic, and I’d love to have you there.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Really? I’d love to, I’ve been hearing everyone talk about it.”

He nodded, a hint of relief washing over his features. “Great, I can save you a seat with my friends. Plus, I could use some support. You know, for luck.”

“Absolutely, I’ll be there cheering for the team,” you replied, trying to contain your excitement. The thought of being there, watching him play, made your stomach flutter.

“Great! See you then,” he said, standing up to leave. But just as he stepped out, he dropped something from his pocket — an old, worn-out bracelet that caught your eye.

Sunghoon!” you called, rushing after him. He turned around, his expression shifting from excitement to confusion as you picked up the bracelet. “You dropped this.”

He took a moment to process it, then chuckled, a hint of embarrassment creeping into his cheeks. “Oh, that? It’s just an old lucky charm. I didn’t think I’d need it anymore.”

“It looks important,” you said, holding it out to him.

He hesitated, reaching for the bracelet but then pulling back. “You know what? Keep it. Maybe it’ll bring you luck at the game too.”

You blinked in surprise. “Really? Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I want you to have it,” he said, his voice steady. “If you want, you can return it to me before the game. Just take good care of it.”

A warmth spread through you at his words, and you couldn’t help but smile. “Okay, I’ll take good care of it.”

“Good,” he said, flashing that charming smile again. “See you tonight, Y/N.”

Just as you thought you were sure on where you and Sunghoon stood on feelings, the whole conversation just made you even more quizzed.

Nonetheless, you were still going to give him words of encouragement and his lucky charm bracelet before the game.

T-25 minutes until the game started.

You stood outside the gym, the sounds of sneakers squeaking on the polished floor and the echo of basketballs bouncing filled the air. You glanced at the time; you were cutting it close, but you had to give Sunghoon his good luck charm.

Clutching the bracelet tightly in your hand, you pushed the door to the locker room open. The space was filled with the scent of sweat and liniment, it was empty except for one person.

It was Heeseung and he was shirtless with a towel draped around his neck.

You couldn’t help but study him, his abs were defined and taut. Each movement he made showcased the hard work he put into training — his core muscles flexing with each shot, the lines of his physique both sculpted and strong. When Heeseung noticed you, his face broke into a grin.

You felt a rush of nerves as you stepped forward. “Hey, I haven’t seen you since in a while. I feel like I only see you during Ms. Kim’s.”

“I’ve been busy. You know that.” He smirks.

“Were you looking for me?” He asked, staring at the piece of fabric in your hand.

“No, I-“

You were silenced as Heeseung suddenly closed the distance, backing you gently against the cool metal of the lockers.

“Heeseung, what are you doing?”

Heeseung was known for his teasing nature, but there was something different in his eyes today. He leaned in slightly with his arms resting on either side of you, effectively trapping you in place. He had a teasing smile on his face as your bodies were pressed against each other.

“Looking for your boyfriend?” his tone was light but laced with something deeper.

You rolled your eyes, frustration bubbling to the surface. “Shut up. How many times do I have to tell you that he’s not my boyfriend?”

He shrugged, clearly enjoying the banter. “I know. I just like to hear you say that he’s not.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s obvious that you like me. And you’ve been wanting me ever since our first kiss,” he replied, voice dropping to a softer tone with eyes locking more intensely onto yours. “Me and you have something, and you’re aware of it.”

“What?” You don’t understand his sudden change of boldness and cockiness but you give into the banter.

“What about your girlfriend?” you challenged, trying to regain some control of the conversation.

Heeseung sighed, leaning forward which causes your foreheads to touch. “How many times do I have to tell you that she’s not my girlfriend?” His expression was serious. “I told you, we’re not dating. She’s just a friend.”

“A friend that you kiss? Sounds a lot like me,” you said, raising an eyebrow while trying to push him away, but it resulted in him pressing against you harder.

“Didn’t know that you were my friend.”

“Forget what I said. I’m not your friend,” you insisted, but a flutter of uncertainty crept in.

He leaned closer, the tension between you two palpable that you could cut it with a knife. You felt your resolve wavering, caught in the pull of his intense gaze that you’re familiar with.

“Yeah,” a hint of mischief in his eyes.

“You’re not my friend because you’re so much more.”

The air thickened with unspoken words. And for a moment, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you, teetering on the edge of something that could change everything.

You’re silent as your eyes follow his hand that slowly crept under your skirt and you didn’t make any effort to stop him.

“Can I touch you?” The weight of his body keeps you pinned against the lockers.

You swallowed hard, feeling a mix of uncertainty and thrill, his confession left you speechless. You could push him away, but nonetheless, you nod your head wanting to feel his touch.

“I won’t do anything until you tell me ‘yes’,” his voice dropping an octave, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Yes,” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, feeling the tension release.

“Please touch me, Heeseung.”

His hand caressed your tender skin before he lightly pressed down fingers on your core. Even with your panties still on, he could feel your wetness soaking through.

Heeseung felt proud of himself, because even though he didn’t fully touch you yet, his words and body against yours were enough to have you drenched.

You felt him move your panties to the side and his cold fingers dipping into your aching centre.

“You’re wet for me?” He murmured as he withdrew his fingers and lifted them to you, revealing your glistening slick.

You stammered, “Don’t- make fun of me.” Your cheeks flushed, overwhelmed by the way he was looking at you, his gaze intense and playful.

“You do this to me too,” he murmured while pressing his obvious bulging crotch against you.

“Why would I make fun of you?”

Heeseung reached under your skirt and dipped his fingers again into your soaking wet cunt. You moan loudly in surprise as one of his fingers enter your heat up to the first knuckle. He starts to slowly finger-fuck you with his thumb slowly rubbing circles on your sensitive clit.

The noises you’re making seem magnified because they’re all that you can hear. You feel Heeseung muttering words onto your neck but you can’t tell what he’s saying, all you know is that suddenly he’s stopped moving his finger which drives you insane.

“Need more,” you croaked desperately.

“Hmm?” he exhales, aware that he’s trying to tease you, to try to make you beg for him to keep going — and it’s working.

“Need more, Hee,” you plead, desperately trying to move your bound body to provide some sense of friction. “Please move.”

As soon as you think that he’s stopped completely and ready to leave you in heat, he suddenly thrusts two fingers deep into your cunt. “Oh my, fuck,” you clench around him with a surprised shout.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“Yes,” you nod, “Please keep going.”

It doesn’t take long for him to build you up to that edge, your body so needy and responsive to his touch, and he’s enjoying it.

You praise him by telling him how good his fingers feel inside you. You’re lost in the sensation of him pounding his fingers into you as he frantically starts rubbing your clit.

“Heeseung, I’m close,” you whined out.

You feel yourself clench around him, and he shifts the angle of his fingers a little bit to hit your sweet spot. “You’re doing so well for me, baby.”

“Let go,” he urges.

You let out a lewd moan when you back arches up sharply as you come undone around his fingers. He keeps thrusting, helping you ride yourself through it. You want the feeling to never stop but he halts his movement.

While you catch your breath, he starts to clean up the mess between your thighs with the towel that was around his neck.

“You did amazing, my love,” he praises, which causes your chest to sting. You felt this before except it was now because of Heeseung.

After he was finished cleaning you up, he helps to adjust your skirt. “My panties will be sticky the entire night now,” you laugh with a sense of worry.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles, genuinely apologizing which makes you grin.

Once you felt completely relaxed, you couldn't help but notice the prominent bulge sticking through his basketball shorts.

“Um,” you clear your throat, “Need me to help?”

He noticed you staring at how hard he is and he gives a smile to break through the tension. “No, don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

“Are you sure?” You shifted on your feet, biting your lip. “I mean, I can be quick.”

His expression softened, and he shook his head. “I appreciate it baby, but I need to warm up soon. I know the gym must be packed though, so you should find a seat to cheer me on.”

“You’re right, the game is starting soon,” you said, trying to sound casual.

“You dropped something,” Heeseung pointed to the ground. It was Sunghoon’s lucky charm that you planned on returning to him.

“It’s Sunghoon’s,” you gulped with an unknown sense of nervousness. “He dropped it so I wanted to give it back, but… I’ll just give it at the party.”

Heeseung nodded, his expression unreadable.

Before you exit the locker room, you walk up to him and give a small peck on his lips, hoping he’ll kiss you back and deeply. “Good luck, captain.”

But Heeseung doesn’t. Instead, he murmurs a quick ‘thank you’ and accepts the kiss with a hesitant look on his face, which immediately makes you leave. You don’t think anything of it, though.

The gym was electric, filled with the sound of cheering fans and the rhythmic thump of basketballs. You sat in the bleachers while waving at Mina, who was cheering at the baseline. The championship game had drawn a massive crowd, and the atmosphere buzzed with excitement. You could feel the energy pulsing around you, but your focus was entirely on what just happened in the locker room.

Suddenly, Heeseung stood near the center of the court, his jersey clinging to him as he bounced the ball, starting his warm ups.

You found him incredibly intoxicating, you couldn’t even focus on the game because the only thing on your mind were his fingers getting you off a few minutes ago.

The game clock ticked down, interrupting your thoughts, and the game started.

You could see the determination in Heeseung’s eyes, and it made your heart swell with pride. This was his moment, and you wanted nothing more than for him and the team to succeed.

As the whistle blew and the first quarter began, you leaned forward, holding your breath with every play. Heeseung darted around defenders, his movements fluid and confident. He made a quick pass to Sunghoon, who took a shot — missed. The crowd groaned in unison, and you felt a knot of anxiety tighten in your stomach.

“He’ll get it next time,” you whispered to yourself, willing him on.

The tension reached a peak when it was the second half. It was third quarter when the opposing team made a quick drive toward the basket, and for a moment, it looked like they might score. But Sunghoon slid in, blocking the shot with a perfect timing that had the crowd erupting into cheers. Your heart raced as you jumped to your feet and clapping.

Sunghoon turned briefly, catching your eye, and flashing a smile in your direction.

The final quarter ticked down and shortly, the score was tied with minutes left. The pressure was mounting, but the team seemed unfazed. Heeseung received the ball and dribbled down the court, dodging defenders with ease. The gym fell silent as he positioned himself for the final shot, and all eyes were on him.

“Come on!” you urged silently, heart in your throat.

He took a deep breath, the world around him fading into a blur as he focused on the hoop. With a quick flick of his wrist, he released the ball, and it soared through the air in slow motion. Time seemed to freeze as you watched, holding your breath.

Swish! The ball hit the net perfectly, and the crowd erupted into a frenzy. You jumped up, screaming with joy as the realization hit— there was 5 seconds left and you had just witnessed Heeseung’s winning shot in the championship game.

Those 5 seconds flew by and Heeseung turned to the stands, his face lighting up with a mixture of disbelief and triumph. As his teammates rushed to him, engulfing him in celebratory hugs, you felt a surge of pride wash over you.

As the team huddled together, you caught his gaze once more. This time, he pointed in your direction, a wide grin spreading across his face. Your heart swelled, and you couldn’t help but beam back at him. In that moment, amidst the chaos and elation of victory, you felt an undeniable connection.

The gym erupted in cheers and the team celebrated their hard-earned win, you knew this was a moment you would never forget.

You went down the bleachers and ran to Mina, hugging her. “That was insane,” you stressed.

“That game had me stressed, fuck! Are you ready to party?” Mina exclaimed.

—

The sound of music pulsed through the air, reverberating against the walls of the house, which was already packed with students buzzing from the excitement of the championship victory. Colorful lights flickered in rhythm with the beat, casting a vibrant glow across the crowd. You stepped inside, the energy wrapping around you like a warm embrace as laughter and cheers filled the space.

The living room was transformed into a party zone, with decorations celebrating the basketball team’s success—banners hanging from the walls, balloons in the school colors bobbing along the ceiling, and a table overflowing with snacks and drinks. Friends and teammates mingled, some already animatedly retelling highlights of the game, while others clinked cups in celebration.

As the night unfolded, the music thumped louder, and the laughter grew richer. You danced, celebrated, and lost yourself in the jubilant atmosphere. But amidst it all, you kept stealing glances at Heeseung, who was now animatedly recounting the game to a captivated audience. The way he lit up while talking made your heart swell.

As you scanned the room, you also spotted Sunghoon across the way, surrounded by a small group of his teammates. He looked effortlessly cool in a casual black tee and jeans, his hair slightly tousled from the night’s festivities. The sight of him made your heart stop. He was laughing, his eyes shining with excitement, and for a moment, you felt a surge of admiration.

You made your way through the crowd, weaving between familiar faces and beaming friends. The atmosphere was infectious, and Sunghoon caught your eye with a grin spread across his face as he waved you over.

“Y/N!” he called, his voice cutting through the music. “Come join us!”

You smiled back, your nerves easing as you stepped closer and noticing Heeseung also joining in. “Congrats on the win! That was so nerve-wracking, but you guys did so well,” you said, genuinely impressed.

Sunghoon shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, but the pride in his eyes was unmistakable. “Thank you! I’m glad it was exciting.”

Heeseung nudged him playfully. “Yeah, and don’t forget your lucky charm.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, but the laughter that followed was infectious, and soon everyone was caught up in the moment.

“Oh shoot, here’s your bracelet” you take the bracelet out of your pocket and give it to him.

“Y/N, I need to talk to you,” Sunghoon said, ignoring the bracelet in your hand.

“Why can’t you talk to her here?” Heeseung asked.

You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks, but before you could say anything, Sunghoon grabbed your hand and led you outside in the backyard.

You stirred your drink, lost in thought, when you noticed him fidgeting. His usual calm demeanor had been replaced by something more vulnerable, and you sensed that something was off.

“Look, Y/N,” he started, his voice trembling slightly. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“What? Why are you sorry?” you asked, genuinely perplexed.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve been leading you on. I was aware of your feelings, but got your hopes up by flirting a bit and never taking it further.”

“I realized that I’ve been leading you on, but I also realized that I caught feelings.”

Your heart raced as you processed his words. “Sunghoon- wait.”

“Before you say anything,” he continued quickly, “It’s not out of pity. I caught real feelings.”

“Y/N, I like you.”

Your mouth was open to speak but no words came out, it was a sudden confession. The boy who you liked finally reciprocated your feelings.

Before you could process your thoughts and whirlwind of emotions, he started to lean in.

His eyes searching yours and his lips approaching yours. But you instinctively recoiled.

“I’m sorry, I can’t.” You shook your head. “I- I caught feelings for someone else.”

The words hung heavy in the air. You could see the realization dawning on him, his expression shifting from hope to disbelief and disappointment.

“It’s okay,” he said softly, a forced smile creeping onto his lips. “I guess I’m too late.”

You looked down at the ground, your mind racing. You had always admired Sunghoon, enjoyed your moments together, but recently someone else had entered your life — someone who made your heart flutter in a way you hadn’t expected. You were just too afraid to admit it.

“I’m sorry, Sunghoon. You’re such a good guy,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “And I’ve liked you for a while, but I think… I’m a bit confused right now.”

He nodded, arms crossed tightly. “It’s okay, really. If you have feelings for someone else, I understand.”

The moment stretched painfully, silence enveloping you both. You wanted to reach out, to reassure him, but the truth hung between you both like a chasm.

“Who is it?” he finally asked, his tone curious yet guarded.

“It’s someone-”

“Heeseung,” he answered for you.

“I don’t know- yes,” you admitted, your cheeks flushing slightly. “It’s complicated and I didn’t mean for it to happen, but it just did.”

He nodded slowly, “Heeseung’s a good guy. I’m not surprised that you caught feelings for him.”

“Please don’t tell him,” you insisted, your voice trembling. “I still haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” he chuckled, a sign that he wasn’t too saddened about the situation and you let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“I’m sorry, Sunghoon.”

“Me too,” he said quietly. “But maybe this is just how it’s meant to be. You and Heeseung are good for each other, you’ll realize it soon enough.”

With that, you both fell into a silence that spoke volume. You realized that you had a choice now. No matter what had transpired, you still admired Sunghoon and your feelings didn't just disappear, but now your heart was also longing for Heeseung. What’s important now is figuring out your feelings.

The conversation was left after your realization and you needed time to yourself. The soft glow of the streetlights illuminated the front porch of the house. You leaned against the cool brick wall, your heart still racing from Sunghoon’s confession. The laughter and chatter of the party faded into the background as you pulled out her phone, glancing at the time. Just then, the doe-eyed boy emerged from the house and walking towards the lot.

“Hey, captain,” you stop him in his tracks.

“What are you doing? You’re not leaving, are you?” you asked. “You know this is your party, you won the game. And that last shot was insane,” you beamed proudly.

Heeseung laughed, “I’m glad you were there to see that. I played well today, probably the best I played all season. Maybe because you were there.”

“And I’m actually heading home. I have a meeting in the morning and need to prepare for it since it’s the first time I get to speak,” he replied, trying to sound nonchalant as he scratched his neck.

“Why are you outside alone? Are you okay?” He stepped before you, his expression softening. “I was looking for you after Sunghoon dragged you outside. What did he want?”

You took a deep breath, the weight of your emotions pressing down on you.

“Sunghoon almost kissed me tonight.”

Heeseung’s eyes widened. “What do you mean almost?”

“I don’t know,” you said, your voice shaky. “I just… I rejected him.”

“Why? Don’t you want to kiss your crush?” Heeseung’s tone was a mix of disbelief and surprise.

“I’m not sure anymore,” you admitted, feeling a knot of uncertainty tighten in your stomach. The thrill of your moment with Sunghoon had turned into confusion.

Heeseung stepped closer, his gaze locked onto yours. “Y/N,” he said softly, “What’s going on?”

You grabbed the bottom hem of his leather jacket and pulled him closer. “Heeseung, I need you to kiss me.”

The words hung in the air, electrifying the space between you both. You visibly see his cheeks heat up as your heart pounds louder than ever.

“You want me to kiss you?” Heeseung asked, uncertainty lingering in his voice.

You searched his eyes, feeling the pull between you two intensifying. You knew that there was so much at stake — potential heartbreak or the possibility of something new.

You nodded, your gaze unwavering. “Yes.”

Taking a leap of faith, Heeseung closed the distance, you hesitated for a heartbeat before leaning in, your lips brushing softly, igniting a spark that sent electricity coursing through you. The kiss deepened, a mix of urgency and tenderness, and for a moment, the chaos of the night faded away.

You cling to the back of his neck and pull him close, mouth and lips mixing with his tongue and teeth.

You didn’t know how bad you needed his lips on yours again — it’s something that you’ve been craving ever since that party when you first had a taste of his lips.

Before you could press your body against his, wanting to experience the same feeling as what happened in the locker room, you feel him pull apart.

“We should stop.”

“I don’t want to stop,” You desperately urged, still feeling the remnants of the kiss linger on your lips.

“I want you.”

“I want you too,” he paused, “So fucking bad, but you’re confused about your feelings.”

You shake your head, “You're the one making me confused. The things you did to me in the locker room, this back and forth that we keep doing, and the way you keep-“ you groan in frustration.

“I want this Heeseung.”

Heeseung watched as you shifted nervously, concern etched on his face. “Do you still have feelings for Sunghoon?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I don’t know. He just confessed that he liked me too, and a part of me wished I hadn’t rejected him. But I’m so glad I did because I’m here with you now.”

You process your own words, realizing that what you are doing wasn’t fair to him. “I’m sorry, I guess- yeah, I’m a bit confused right now.”

Without another word, he reached out and gently grabbed your hand, grounding you. “I’ll take you home.”

You felt a rush of warmth at his touch, the familiarity of his hand in yours bringing a sense of comfort when he led you to his car.

He opened the passenger seat and you sit down with a pang of regret.

“Heeseung, I didn’t mean to make this complicated,” you said softly, “It wasn’t fair to ask you to kiss me.”

“I know,” he replied, his gaze steady. “But whatever you’re feeling, I know you’ll figure it out. It will take time, but that’s okay. I can wait.”

“You’re willing to wait for me? Why?”

Silence passed by.

“It’s been a long night. We can talk tomorrow, okay?” He shows reassurance through his eyes, and you appreciate his understanding.

The car ride was silent, both of you falling deeply within your thoughts of each other. Every now and then, you’d glance over at him. There was something about the way he held himself — so easy and entirely present — that made your heart skip. You weren’t sure if it was the quiet of the night or the way he seemed so at understanding with you, but in that moment, everything felt still.

The car slowed as he approached your house and he stopped at the curb. He turned to you, his expression softer now, a quiet sincerity in his eyes.

“Thank you for bringing me home,” you said, breaking the silence.

His lips quirk into a smile before he kisses your forehead. “Goodnight.”

You held his gaze, something unspoken passing between you, heart swelling at the tenderness in his voice. You opened the door and stepped out of the car, but before you closed it, you looked back at him. He was watching you, his hand resting on the wheel, his expression a mix of fondness and something more, something hopeful.

The world outside was quiet, but inside your mind, it was anything but. You lay in bed, your thoughts were racing and tumbling over each other like waves crashing against the shore.

Every little moment from Sunghoon’s confession to admitting wanting Heeseung seemed to replay in your mind, each one a gentle reminder of the feelings that simply can’t be ignored. You turned onto your side, staring out the window, trying to make sense of the whirlwind inside.

The idea of something more with Heeseung doesn’t scare you anymore. You made your choice and for the first time in a long time, it felt right.

—

The gentle chime of the doorbell signaled the arrival of a customer, pulling you from your thoughts as you arranged a bouquet of vibrant daisies. The flower shop was a cozy haven, filled with the sweet scent of fresh blooms and the soft rustle of leaves. Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the colorful displays, but today, your mind was elsewhere.

You glanced out the window, lost in thought as you watched the street bustle with life. It was one of those quiet days at the shop, and as you worked, your thoughts inevitably drifted to Heeseung. You couldn’t shake the feelings that had blossomed between you.

You finished the bouquet of daisies when a familiar voice broke your reverie. “What are you thinking about?” Mina asked, plopping down on the stool across from you, a curious look in her eyes.

You hesitated, feeling the weight of your secret pressing down. “I... I need to tell you something,” you said, your heart racing.

“I have feelings for Heeseung.”

Mina’s eyes widened, her mouth dropping open in surprise. “What? Since when? What about Sunghoon?”

You sighed, “Sunghoon made me realize that I like Heeseung. Heeseung and I kissed at the party, then again last night after Sunghoon confessed to me.”

“And yeah, I rejected Sunghoon because I like Heeseung.”

“Oh my gosh,” Mina leaned back, processing your words, her expression a mix of shock and excitement. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

You glanced around the shop, ensuring no one else was within earshot. “I’m sorry, but you have a big mouth. And I needed to figure my feelings out before it turned into something bigger.”

She grinned, a playful glint in her eyes. “So you’re certain about your feelings for Heeseung?”

“I am,” you said, the confession feeling like a weight lifting off your shoulders.

Just then, the door swung open again, and you looked up, holding your breath. There he was —Heeseung, with his easy smile and a carefree energy that filled the shop. He looked around, his gaze landing on you.

“Hey, got any good recommendations for a perfect flower for a pretty girl?” he asked, leaning casually against the counter.

“It depends, who might that pretty girl be?” Your heart raced as you stepped forward, trying to sound casual despite the flurry of emotions swirling inside you.

“It’s a secret,” he says, which makes your eyes roll playfully in return.

“Sure, I have the perfect one.” You gestured for him to follow you to the back of the shop, where the blooms were arranged in an array of colors.

As you guided him through the flowers, you couldn’t help but notice how the sunlight caught his hair, the way his eyes sparkled with curiosity. “I think a pretty girl would love cherry blossoms,” you said, pointing to a delicate bunch of pink blooms.

Heeseung’s expression brightened. “Cherry blossoms? Those are beautiful. Perfect choice.”

You smiled, feeling a rush of warmth at his approval. “They symbolize the beauty of life and new beginnings,” you explained, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach. “Plus, they’re just really pretty.”

“Definitely,” he said, nodding. “I’ll take a bouquet of those, then. When are you off?”

“In about ten minutes,” you replied, trying to contain your excitement at the thought of spending more time with him.

“Wanna get some ice cream after?” Heeseung asked, his tone casual but with an underlying hint of hope that made your heart leap.

“Ice cream sounds great,” you said, unable to hide your smile.

“Perfect. I’ve been craving something sweet since the game yesterday,” he laughed, running a hand through his hair.

You nodded, feeling your nerves fade as the idea of ice cream and time spent with Heeseung sank in. “We can go right after I finish up here. I’ll just wrap these up for you.”

As you moved to prepare his bouquet, the air felt charged with excitement. Maybe this was the chance you’d been waiting for to explore your feelings with him.

“Thanks for the recommendation,” Heeseung said, watching you intently as he gave you his card.

“Just doing my job,” you replied playfully, though the compliment made your cheeks warm. You carefully arranged the cherry blossoms into a beautiful bouquet, tying it off with a simple ribbon.

“Alright, all set!” you announced, handing it to him. “I hope she loves them.”

“I’m sure she will,” he said, taking the bouquet and flashing that charming smile of his before giving them to you. You try your best to hide your big smile at his cute gesture.

“Let’s get going then,” Heeseung said, motioning toward the door.

After clocking out, you stepped out into the warm afternoon, feeling a flutter of excitement at the prospect of ice cream and a chance to spend time with him. Maybe this was the perfect way to discover where your feelings could lead.

The ice cream shop buzzed with laughter and the sound of scoops hitting cones. The sunset streamed through the large windows, casting a warm glow over the pastel-colored walls.

Heeseung leaned against the counter as he waited for his mint chocolate chip ice cream, his brow slightly furrowed as he watched you asked for a cup with a swirl of chocolate and strawberry.

“You already got me flowers, you don’t have to pay for me,” you said, glancing over as he handed the cashier his card.

“I’m the one who invited you on this date, so I should pay for it,” Heeseung replied, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Thank you,” you said, your eyes softening.

As you both took a seat at a small table, the sun warming your skin, you couldn’t help but be distressed, the memory of last night swirling in your mind.

“Heeseung, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for bothering you about my feelings. I was confused, but I’m certain now.”

“Hey, you didn’t bother me,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “I should be the one apologizing. I kept teasing you about Sunghoon and actually helped to get you with him, but then tried to convince you to get with me. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you replied, a hint of warmth in your cheeks. The memory of his playful jabs at your friendship with Sunghoon felt less burdensome now, more like a teasing lightness.

Heeseung took a deep breath, glancing around the shop as if searching for the right words. “Let’s save this conversation for later. We’re supposed to be enjoying ice cream, right?”

You chuckled, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. “Right. Ice cream first, feelings later.”

“Deal,” he said, his smile returning, a spark of mischief in his eyes. “I want to show you something at home. My mom went on a trip and doesn’t get back until tonight.”

Your eyes squint in uncertainty, “You’re making it sound like-“

“It’s not what you think,” he laughs, “I made sure to make it look clean this morning.”

You chuckle at your own ambiguous thoughts.

“But just so you know, I’m not letting this go. You owe me a proper discussion about your feelings.”

“Fair enough,” you replied, enjoying the banter.

—

You stepped through the grand double doors, your breath catching slightly at the sight before you. A crystal chandelier hung from the high ceiling, casting a soft glow on the modern art that adorned the walls. Your footsteps echoed softly as you followed Heeseung inside, feeling the weight of the place — the luxury and the quiet elegance.

Heeseung hadn’t said much since you arrived to his home, but there was an excitement in his eyes, an energy that made you curious.

"So," you said, breaking the silence, "what did you want to show me?"

He glanced at you with a half-smile, his fingers brushing against yours before he took your hand fully, his touch warm and steady. "Follow me," he said, his voice low, almost secretive, like he was leading you to something special.

You felt a flutter in your chest as you let him guide you to the back of his house. Eventually, he led you to a small archway, its intricate woodwork twisted into delicate, curling patterns.

The air felt cooler here, more peaceful, and as you stepped through it, your breath caught in your throat. It was a garden unlike anything you’d ever seen, a sprawling space filled with vibrant flowers in every color imaginable.

"Wow," you whispered, taking in the sight. "It’s beautiful."

He squeezed your hand gently, his eyes softening as he watched your reaction. "It’s a butterfly garden," he explained, his voice filled with something like reverence. "My dad had this built for my mom on their tenth anniversary."

The butterfly garden was a kaleidoscope of colors, delicate wings fluttering against the backdrop of lush greenery and blooming flowers. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blossoms and the soft rustle of leaves. You and Heeseung wandered along the winding paths, the sun filtering through the leaves and casting dappled light on the ground.

You turned to him, surprised by the tenderness in his words. "This is... incredible. I’ve never seen anything like this."

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yeah. It’s been here ever since I was a kid. Every time I come here, it reminds me of them."

You glanced around, taking in the beauty of the garden — its winding paths, the quiet trickle of a small fountain in the corner, the vibrant flowers, and the butterflies that seemed to dance through the air, so effortlessly. It felt intimate, serene, like it held memories in the air itself.

"It’s perfect," you said softly, your gaze lingering on a butterfly that had landed on a nearby flower. "It’s like you can feel the love here."

He nodded, his fingers still holding yours, his gaze not leaving you. "Yeah. It’s a place where everything feels still. You know?"

He looked at you for a long beat, his expression soft but serious, as if weighing something important in his heart. Slowly, he stepped closer to you, the world around you fading into the background.

"It’s my favorite place in the world," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "When things get hard, I like to come here and escape from everything. I wanted to share it with you."

You felt your heart flutter at the words, the weight of his honesty settling in the space between you. This wasn’t just about a beautiful garden, it was about him trusting you with something deeply personal, something precious.

"I’m honored," you said quietly, looking into his eyes. "Thank you for showing me."

A gentle smile tugged at his lips, and for a moment, it was just the two of you in that sacred space — no words needed, just the quiet, steady beat of your hearts. As you stood there, hand in hand, surrounded by the butterflies, you knew this was a memory that would stay with you forever.

“So, Sunghoon confessed,” Heeseung spoke, glancing at you.

“Yes,” you replied, your voice slightly subdued. “It was so sudden and made me even more confused. He was sorry for leading me on and I didn’t expect for him to return his feelings even if I wanted him to, but I appreciated his confession and honesty.”

“Bringing me home last night was a good idea,” you continued. “I was being messy the entire night and before I went to sleep, I thought for a long time.”

You remembered how you’d spent hours thinking about your feelings, trying to make sense of everything.

“Earlier, you mentioned that you were certain,”Heeseung began, looking at you, his expression earnest. “I’m certain about my feelings too. I’m certain about you, so whatever you tell me, I won’t be mad. I know I was an ass getting in the way of your feelings for Sunghoon, but just please be honest, and I’ll figure it out and leave you alone.”

“I don’t want you to leave me alone,” you said softly, looking directly into his eyes.

“Heeseung, I like you,” you blurt out without hesitation. The words hung in the air between you, bright and clear, like the vibrant butterflies flitting around. “I was trying to win over Sunghoon, but you kept distracting me.” You let out a playful scoff, trying to lighten the moment.

“You made me really confused and it was annoying — but in a good way. After being around you and knowing what you’re going through, I started to care for you and wanted to be there for you. And when we kissed or when you’re simply around me, I couldn’t handle it. I’ve always wanted more but was too afraid to admit it.”

“I want more with you,“ You confess,” If you want more with me.”

Heeseung’s eyes widened slightly, surprise flashing across his face before a grin broke through. He stepped closer, the warm sun illuminating his features, “I do want more with you. I’ve been wanting to tell you for a long time, but obviously didn’t know if you felt the same.”

“I like you a lot… probably since our first kiss,” he laughed, a sound full of relief and joy, before leaning over, his forehead resting gently against yours. “If you give me a chance, I promise I will try my best to be good for you, because you deserve it. And even when things get complicated or messy or when shit gets in the way, I need you to know that I’m not going anywhere."

You swallowed hard, feeling your stomach flutter. His words were beautiful, something that was never said to you before.

“I know that especially for you, things will be hard but I’m not going anywhere either,” you promise.

Unable to think of anything else to say, you found yourself closing the distance between you and him. You reached up, your hand gently cupping the side of his face, feeling his warmth beneath your fingertips. His breath hitched, and his gaze softened.

Heeseung’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, and you could feel the pulse of his heart beating in time with yours. You kissed many times but this one felt different, it was slow, tender, full of warmth and everything that had been unsaid between you for so long.

When you pulled back, you were both breathless, your foreheads resting together as you smiled.

“I’ve said this many times, but I want you, Hee.”

He nods and lets out an exhale, “You have me.”

Without thought, Heeseung led you upstairs. You both haven’t spoken yet, the desire of wanting each other too strong. The heavy wooden door swung open with a smooth, almost imperceptible motion, revealing a room that seemed more like something out of a dream than reality. Your eyes wide as you take in the sprawling space before you.

You reach out and pull Heeseung back in, kissing him fiercely desperate. You move before him, making him walk backwards until he’s sat on the edge of his bed.

When you released from his mouth and pulled back for air, Heeseung’s eyes were glowing, shifting between yours in silence. He knows exactly what you’re asking him.

“Can I?” You asked, eyes drawn upon the tent in his pants. He nods in approval, and slowly, you begin unbuttoning his jeans and kneeling before him.

Your fingers drag lightly against Heeseung’s hips before pulling his pants and underwear down.

As your breath hitches with the reveal of his cock that sprung free, you feel him studying you intently. Your eyes widened, he was thick and big, and you weren’t sure if he was going to fit.

“Are you sure you want to?” Heeseung asked.

You nod, “I want to make you feel good.”

Heeseung let out a small noise once you took hold of his cock and started stroking him slow. Then you guided it to your mouth, the taste of his pre-cum salty but sweet.

You watch his eyebrows pinch together as you lick a stripe up the underside of his cock and circle the head with your tongue without breaking eye contact.

“Oh, fuck baby,” his groan sounds strangled, almost pained. You continue to wrap your lips around the head, tongue teasing around it before tracing along the slit.

“Been wanting to feel your mouth,” Heeseung’s voice, shaky when he reverently admitted. “Please don’t tease me, you feel fucking good.”

You take his praise as motivation when you slowly sink your mouth down on Heeseung’s cock, swallowing the tip deeply into your throat, trying not to gag, and holding it there before bobbing your head and repeatedly continue the motion.

You didn’t want to stop after hearing the pretty whines and moans spilling out from him. Heeseung guides you a bit, holding onto your head and pushing it down so you can take him even deeper.

You felt his dick twitching as if he was almost there at release so you continue to move up and down, reminding yourself to breathe through your nose.

“Doing great baby,” he praises, “I think I’m close.”

Heeseung clutches onto his sheets with a hand as he grips your head tighter with the other. Your movements are getting faster, more frantic, you want him to let go already and spill in your mouth.

But he releases his grip and tries to stop you.

“Hold on, I don’t want to cum yet,” Heeseung brought a hand down to cup your face, his thumb tracing where your lips stretched around his length.

“I want to cum while I’m inside you,” he says.

You pulled off of Heeseung with a pop, an eager look in your eyes as he brought you towards him so that you’re straddling him.

“Thank you, that felt amazing,” he brought both hands back to your face, cupping your cheeks. Heeseung leans towards you and kisses you again, taking his time to savor it as he tastes himself.

He nips at your bottom lip, running the tip of his tongue alongside the edge of your mouth. You melt against him, responding in kind.

Heeseung lifts you, turning both of you around until your body is placed gently on his bed. He hooks his fingers through the elastic of your waistband and then slides down your pants and panties, leaving you naked from the waist down. You’re uncomfortably wet, all from getting a taste of him.

He pauses for a second just to admire you with a soft look in his eyes before glancing back at you, and your heart starts pounding intensely in your chest. You’re suddenly nervous, but desperate to feel him in every single way.

As you lie there on his bed, you’re unable to take your eyes away from him. Heeseung leans down to place a soft kiss on your hip bone before starting to undress, wanting to be completely naked, and you follow his lead.

Heeseung kisses your neck and drags his mouth down to your bare breast, then your stomach. He pauses for a moment before ducking down, and suddenly his mouth is on your cunt, leaving a kiss. His breath and mouth warm, wet, and, fuck, he hasn’t done anything yet but it feels amazing.

You feel him placing a hand flat against your stomach, strong and steady, keeping you still as his tongue begins to slip in and out of you.

“Heeseung,” you breathed, hands immediately darting out to grab the sheets on either side, fabric clenched between your fingers as you felt his tongue confidently lapping up and down your cunt.

“Fuck… shit, fuck,” Your words came out in soft mumbles as you screwed your eyes shut, feeling Heeseung nudging your clit with his sharp nose.

He sucks rapidly and noisily, and his grip around your thighs tightened when your hand traveled down to tangle amongst his messy locks, tugging in appreciation as his tongue rolled against your clit in circles.

You felt him let out a moan against you, which makes your vision blurry and your core clench tight — you felt yourself close.

“I’m- gonna-”

Your fingers grasp his hair tighter, and you desperately pull him closer once you come undone on his tongue. Your legs tightened around him, hips started bucking wildly which made it hard for him to stay in place.

Heeseung pressed soft kisses along your inner thighs, watching you relax under his touch. He waited a few moments until your eyes met his own, the sight was something that you wished to engrave forever.

He was too pretty, too cute. His cheeks were flushed, eyes glossy — bambi eyes glowing. You were lucky to see him like this.

“Was that okay?” Heeseung broke the silence.

You nod, trying to steady your breathing, “It was perfect.”

“I want you inside me now, Hee.”

Heeseung felt the same way, wanting to be inside you. He pressed his lips against yours before a small smirk formed.

He reached to the dresser next to his bed and opened the drawer to find a foil packet. You left a watchful gaze as Heeseung opened the packet and slowly slid the condom onto his cock, pumping it a few times until he was shifting his hips.

He began to line it up his cock with your entrance and sliding his head along your soaking slit a few times for full preparation.

“Tell me if it hurts okay?” He murmured. He takes it slow, stretching you out and allowing you to get used to the feel of him, while carefully searching for any discomfort on your face.

The feeling was unexpected, due to his girth and size. But you nodded your head and kissed him, giving him the approval to bottom you out. Heeseung didn’t expect you to feel so tight around him. Your cunt clenching his cock so perfectly that he could have sworn that he came already.

“Baby-“ he gulped. “I don’t think I’ll last,” he lets out a chuckle mixed with a soft whine.

“Me neither,” you breathlessly laugh in response.

“I’m going to move now.”

You felt Heeseung begin to roll his hips, starting a rhythm, settling a hand at your neck. All it takes is a nod and mumble of the words, “Go faster,” from you for him to pick up his pace. You don’t have too much difficulty matching it, and soon, your hips meet messily and erratically. The pace is fast and the feeling indescribable.

“Hee,” You moan out, “Just like that-“

One of your hands unintentionally makes a mess of his back, nails scratching when he snaps his hips and hits your deep spot, and Heeseung’s brows furrow at the feeling.

"Oh my fucking god," you felt the his breath against your ear as he groaned out. You were approaching your high and Heeseung can feel it too.

You continue rocking your hips back and forth, matching his rhythm while biting down on your bottom lip to try to stop the sound that's trying to escape from your throat. "Heeseung," you finally let out a whine, "I'm so fucking close."

"I know," he felt your walls clamp around him, watching your face scrunch up, unable to hold it in any longer.

His rhythm gradually gets faster, and you feel him get deeper causing you to clench even more tightly to the point where you start digging onto his shoulder with your fingertips.

"You can cum now," he grunts while bucking up his hips. Just from your face alone, he notices how much you want to let go. He removed hair out of your face before placing a sweet kiss on your lips.

"Go ahead, my love," he whispered.

You feel yourself let go and your body spasming. He carries you through your orgasm with small shallow thrusts until he follows, eventually releasing himself into the condom.

The condom gets thrown in the trash and Heeseung grabs a towel from his bathroom. He cleans you up, and you watch with a smile on your face. Heeseung rejoins you, pulling you into his arms under the covers. You curl up into him, feeling relaxed and happy in his embrace.

“What are we?” You ask, unsure of the new status between you two.

“We can be whatever you want to be,” he kisses the top of your head, “But I want you to be mine.”

“Well, before we officially become boyfriend and girlfriend,” you began, hesitating slightly, “I want to know more about you. I want to know what goes on other than basketball and partying. I just want to know about Heeseung.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. “You’re asking a lot. But I want to know everything about you too. We can start tomorrow. Let me take you out on a date.”

“Another date? I’d love that.” A flutter of excitement stirred in your chest, but reality pulled you back.

“I want to stay here forever and I don’t want to leave yet, but I promised my parents that I’ll be home by 8.”

“Okay, let’s get ready. I’ll drop you off,” he said, his tone shifting to one of determination.

You shook your head, a playful frown on your face. “No, don’t worry. I know your mom is coming home soon, so- so just let one of your drivers take me home.”

Heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair, a mixture of frustration and understanding. “I don’t like the idea of you going home alone. Just let me drop you off. I promise I’ll have you back before my mom comes.”

You could see the concern on his face, and it made your heart swell. “Heeseung, I’ll be fine. I appreciate it, really. But I think it’s better this way.”

“Fine,” he relented, but his expression remained serious. “But we’re definitely going on that date tomorrow. No arguments.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you at his insistence. “Okay, it’s a date.”

—

”This is Seojoon,” Heeseung said, his voice casual but with a hint of authority. "He’ll be driving you tonight."

Seojoon gave you a polite nod, his eyes steady and respectful. “Miss,” he greeted, his voice smooth and professional, with just the right amount of warmth to make you feel at ease.

You gave a smile, feeling a little out of place in such a world of luxury, but his quiet confidence made you relax. “Hi, Seojoon. It’s nice to meet you.”

He opened the door to the waiting car, a sleek black luxury vehicle that looked like it could glide on air.

Heeseung’s hand rested briefly on your shoulder, his fingers warm. “I’m looking forward to tomorrow and everyday with you,” he leaned closer, his voice low and sincere. ”I want to know everything about you too, and I promise to share more than just basketball and partying.”

The moment lingered, the air thick with unspoken promises and the thrill of what was to come. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you said, giving him a kiss on his lips before getting inside the car.

“Call me when you get home,” he replied, his smile brightening as he closed the door.

On your way home, the world outside was still buzzing, but the night felt different now — calmer, and more intimate especially after the day with Heeseung.

You felt happy.

—

As soon as Heeseung returns inside, a sharp voice sliced through the warmth of the moment.

“Who’s that? You never bring anyone home,” his mother demanded, her eyes narrowing at him.

Heeseung straightened, determination flashing in his gaze. “She’s my girlfriend— well, soon to be. But I like her a lot, and she’s special.”

His mother’s expression darkened, her voice dropping to a more serious tone. “Heeseung, we cannot allow this.”

“Who’s ‘we’?” Heeseung shot back, a hint of defiance creeping into his voice.

“Me. The company. Our family,” she replied, crossing her arms, a look of disapproval etched on her features.

“But, Mother, she’s the first girl to make me feel this way. I’m actually really happy.”

His mother sighed, her expression softening for just a moment before steeling again. “Heeseung, we already had this conversation a long time ago. And I don’t want to have to have it again.”

Heeseung’s eyes bore into his mother’s, a mix of frustration and desperation. “Can’t you just try to understand?” he pressed. “I know what our family’s expectations are, but she makes me feel like I can be myself. Isn’t that what you want for me?”

His mother hesitated, her facade cracking slightly. “You know how things are in our world, Heeseung. It’s not just about feelings. There are expectations-”

“Expectations that make me miserable!” he interrupted, his voice rising. “I’m not asking you to approve of her right now, but I need you to at least try to see why I like her.”

“I need time to think about this,” she said, a reluctant sigh escaping her lips.

“Then time is all I’m asking for,” Heeseung replied, his voice firm but gentle.

As the air slowly eased, Heeseung gave a glance with a mixture of hope and apprehension.

—

hee: can’t wait to see you, my love

hee: wear something warm :)

The next day was your and Heeseung’s date. He texted you that he was going to take you to a park that had pretty cherry blossoms, which is something you’ve wanted to do for so long.

As Heeseung stood at your front door, the afternoon air thick with anticipation. The soft glow of porch lights cast a warm hue over the two of you, and the world around felt still, as if it were holding its breath.

“Hey, you look cute in your scarf,” you giggle. “Is everything okay?” you asked, your brow furrowing slightly at the uncomfortable look in his eyes.

“Yes- no,” he replied, a mix of frustration and longing evident in his voice. He stepped closer, his gaze intense. “I just want to kiss you. I missed you.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his confession, feeling warmth bloom in your chest before leaning in to kiss him. “I missed you too, Hee.”

Heeseung hesitated for a moment, his hands fidgeting at his sides.

“What’s wrong?” your tone shifted, concern creeping into his words.

“I don’t want to waste any more time,” he admitted. “I know you said we shouldn’t rush into being official, but I just want to be yours already.”

Your eyes widened, the spark of surprise quickly morphing into determination.

“Can I be your boyfriend?” he asked, his voice steady yet filled with an undercurrent of hope.

“Yes, Heeseung, you can be my boyfriend,” you replied, your words tumbling out with an undeniable certainty.

A grin broke across his face, and in that moment, all the uncertainty from the past few days melted away. He stepped closer, the distance between you shrinking until he cupped your face in his hands.

“Really? You mean it?”

“Of course,” you said, smiling widely.

Heeseung leaned in, closing the gap, and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, but it quickly deepened as the warmth of his mouth sent a thrill through you. You melted into him, feeling his hands move to your waist, pulling you closer as if he were afraid to let go.

When he finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, foreheads resting against each other. With a renewed sense of excitement and belonging, you took his hand, intertwining your fingers. The future for you suddenly felt bright and full of possibilities.

As for Heeseung, he knew that whatever the future held, it was just the beginning of something even more complicated and uncertain.

But he knew that everything would be okay as long as he had you in his world.

—

© 2024, fairyofhee on tumblr

note, any reblogs and feedback is appreciated! if enough feedback, a continuation will be in the works. feel free to share your thoughts, thank you <3

[dorkszn]

COME AND GET THAT + logan howlett

SYNP — being home for the summer from school isn’t so bad. it isn’t so bad until your motorcycle stops working. and your dad tells you to call over the man that inspired you to get the bike in the first place and the closest one who could fix it, his best friend and your longtime crush, logan.

WARNINGS — masc reader, age gap ( no duh ), reader’s dad is kinda a dick, subbot reader, oral, petnames, logan’s a little mean, slight degradation, kitchen sex, hair pulling, eventual smut, porn with plot | 3.4K ( im sorry 😭 )

PART TWO ( coming soon )

Summertime. It’s such a wonderful time. You get out of school and can drive back to your hometown. You see your parents and siblings and get to flop onto the mattress of your old childhood bedroom.

But your favorite part? Getting to see your dad’s best friend, Logan. Who seems only to be getting hotter and hotter with each passing year. Only maybe you’re just getting more worked up and shy with every year that passes because each summer you can barely stand to look him in the eye or be alone in a room with him.

You’ve been home for about a week or two by this point, getting back into the comfort and schedule of your hometown life. Luckily but also somehow unfortunately, you have yet to see Logan since you returned. Hell, he probably doesn’t even know you’re home.

So imagine your surprise when you’re standing outside of your parent’s house with your dad, examining your sleek motorcycle that just wouldn’t start. You know how to do basic motorcycle care that of course, Logan taught you. He was the one who inspired and motivated you to get the damn bike anyways. So why were you surprised when your dad suggested calling him?

“Guess I’ll give Logan a call and see if he’s busy. He should know how to fix it,” your father says in a small sigh as he stands up straight.

“Wait, call Logan?” You repeat even though you know it’s dumb question and that you were just nervous to see him again since winter break.

“Yeah, Logan, you got a problem with that or something, squirt?” Your father responds slightly mockingly as he repeats your obviously odd question. You just grumble slightly under your breath.

“No, dad, just… go ahead and call em’,” you say in a sigh as the two of you stalk back towards the house. After that, it only takes half an hour before the inevitable and you see that familiar pickup pull into your driveway.

You reluctantly trail behind your dad like a clingy pup instead of a grown man to go greet Logan. You don’t miss the way he smirks with his signature cigar between his lips as he very slowly drags his eyes on your body.

“And when was I gonna find out my favorite college kid was home?” Logan asks gruffly, plucking the cigar from his lips with an outlet of smoke. His voice damn near sends shivers down your spine everytime you hear it.

You just opt for shrugging and giving him a casual smile. “Find out when you find out, I guess,” you say and of course, he lets out that little chuckle and snort that you love so much.

Logan puts his calloused, large hand out for you to greet him correctly only for him to grab your hand and pull you into him. You can’t help the small, very unmanly yelp that leaves you when he grabs you so suddenly. The smell of him hitting you so quick it damn near makes your mind spin. Cigars and ash and wood and leather and just him. Gosh, it almost drives you so crazy you barely notice the light headlock he put you in.

When you do finally notice, it definitely does not help the flare of heat in the pit of your stomach. You try to brush it off, tugging at his incredibly strong and veiny biceps with a small grin to pry him off of you. Finally, he releases you and you can’t help but take in a relieved breath.

“Still as much of a little shit as ever, kid,” Logan taunts, placing his cigar back between his lips. Lips that you wanted to feel on yours so bad. “You sure you ain’t getting smaller with each year?”

You roll your eyes for the second time that night. He knew you weren’t getting smaller. It just seemed like he was getting bigger even at his grown age. And damn, is he big. 6 feet 2 inches and 205 pounds of pure muscle. “Yeah, I’m sure, Logan,” you end up mumbling in response as you stuff your hands in your pockets.

Logan just chuckles again. “Yeah, okay,” he responds sarcastically. With another puff of smoke, he looks to your father then your bike. “So, what’s the problem, Bub?” He inquires.

You trail your father as he walks Logan over to your motorcycle. The same model he recommended years ago. You barely listen as your father explains the situation to his best friend, your eyes stuck to the man in the red flannel.

“Looks like you just need an oil change, kid. And your fuel filters clogged,” Logan says in a small grunt as he stands from his kneeling position next to your bike.

“Damn, squirt, you can’t tell when you need an oil change?” Your dad questions, pinching the bridge of his nose. You frown slightly and your brows furrow.

“I just didn’t notice, okay?” You grumble in reply.

Your father sighs before looking back at Logan. “Could ya fix it, Howlett?” Your father questions, folding his arms over his chest.

“Oh yeah, could change the oil if the kid wants. The fuel filter, on the other hand, you’re gonna have to replace the part. I’m assuming you don’t just got one layin’ around here,” Logan explains and he dusts his palms off.

“Perfect. Time for the kid to learn to do something for himself,” your father says with a grin of mock-approval. Oh, how you wish your mother was here instead. Logan just lets out a small chuckle that seems just a little bit forced. “Well, I gotta head off to work. Help Logan out, will ya? Get him whatever he needs or asks for.” Your father sighs to you.

He’s going to leave? The two of you? Alone? Does he actually want you to pass away? “Yeah, dad, I got it,” you say to cover up the way your heart almost immediately started racing. Then it was only minutes later before you were watching your father pull out of your driveway and zip down the street, leaving just you and Logan.

Logan turns to you and damn you could almost feel the way he looked at you. You nervously pull your eyes away from the street and to Logan who offers you his usual smirk when you look at him. “Get me your old man’s box, will ya?” He requests.

“Yeah, sure,” you murmur before turning and walking back towards the house to get your dad’s toolbox. And are you being paranoid or is he definitely watching you walk away?

You eventually come back with your dad’s toolbox in hand. Logan turns to you when he hears your footsteps despite them being damn near silent. He’s always so astute and aware. It scares you and somehow turns you on at the same time.

“Atta boy,” Logan says as he takes the box from you and holds it like it weighs nothing more than a bottle of water. “Thanks, kid.”

Atta boy. Gosh, what would you give to hear him say that again. “Yeah, no problem,” you respond. You can’t help but watch him for a few minutes before turning and walking back towards the house. Your father would definitely force you to stay and watch Logan so you could “actually do something right.” But thankfully and also unfortunately, he isn’t there and Logan could care less.

And for the next 45 minutes, you spend your time inside trying to distract yourself from the man outside. The man you were home alone with. You leave the door ajar just in case he needs anything which of course he doesn’t. He’s just that good, right?

You lean against your kitchen counter, feeding your cat, James, a blonde cat who is somehow more accident prone than you are, blueberries. Your mind is practically running on autopilot out of boredom. But you’re acutely aware of the sound of the front door opening and shutting. As well as the heavy footsteps coming towards the kitchen.

Logan turns the corner, his flannel gone, leaving him in just a tanktop and jeans. A tanktop that practically put all of him on display. The muscles and veins in his arms, the firmness of his chest. Specifically that vein on his right biceps that runs all the way down to his forearm.

There’s a few oil marks staining his skin, on his neck and arms and chest. A little on his cheek. How the hell did he get that dirty? Hell, not like you’d know. You hardly touch the inside of that motorcycle, willingly.

His dog tags hanging perfectly in between his pecs. How you would love to trade places with those things right now. “S’all done, Bub,” Logan tells you as he steps further into the kitchen.

“Right, yeah, thanks,” you say, reluctantly stopping your ogling to grab him a water from the fridge. Logan flicks his hands as he finishes washing them and takes the water from you. He leans against the counter across from you.

“How’s college treatin’ ya?” He inquires, watching as you feed James another piece of fruit.

“It’s okay, nothing special. I mean don’t get me wrong, it’s a nice school but it’s not like it’s Ivy League or anything,” you answer in a small shrug as you pop a blueberry into your own mouth. Logan can’t help but watch your lips and throat as you do so. His eyes shamelessly trained on you.

“Well atleast you got somethin’ going for ya,” Logan murmurs, finally looking away as he folds his arms over his chest. “Got a boyfriend waiting there too?” He asks. You give him a look. He chuckles. “Or a girlfriend.” Logan adds.

You just roll your eyes which contrasts the smile on your face. “Answers no to both,” you answer, watching James pluck the blueberry from your fingers. And Logan feels a little too happy to see that little smile on your face again.

“Really?” Logan replies, raising a brow in response. “Those little college kids to stupid to see what’s in front of em’ or something?”

You look over to him and see his little eyebrow raise, a quiet snort leaving you. “I don’t know. I just don’t talk to people like that. Hard to be seen when you’re acting invisible, y’know?” You say nonchalantly.

“Gotta put yourself out there one day, Bub,” Logan sighs. “Can’t keep comin’ back to this place and just hoping for it.” You watch him as he speaks and you can’t help the way your eyes repeatedly drop down to the soot on his muscles. You gotta get those stains off before you go nuts.

“It’s more of a choice than anything,” you tell him as you turn and grab a clean rag from one of the lower cabinets. Logan’s sharp eyes follow you as you move around the kitchen. “People there just don’t really “impress” me.” You add as you wet the rag with warm water.

“Oh, boys there ain’t good enough for you, huh?” Logan questions teasingly, that grin returning to his face. You step in front of him and hold out the damp rag to him. Logan silently gestures to his skin in response.

You swallow and suddenly, your heart is beating a million beats a minute. Your eyes fall from his to his chest and neck as you slowly reach the rag to his skin. “Nah,” you finally answer lowly as you begin to gently scrub at his skin. “All the way in university and still ain’t mature enough.” You mutter, watching the oil stains fade away under the rag.

Logan’s eyes are low as he looks down at you, his eyes trained on your face and lips as you speak and wipe him down. “Oh right, not mature enough f’ya,” Logan murmurs. “Need an older guy to take care of you… don’t ya?”

Your hand pauses on his chest and your eyes move back up to his. A swirl of desire and need mixing in his dark eyes. His gaze alone almost makes you shutter. “Yeah… think I do,” I say in a slightly hoarse whisper.

Not knowing what else to do, you let out a barely there breath and raise the rag, going to swipe at some of the stains on his cheeks. Your heart almost stops in your chest when he grabs your wrist instead. His other hand comes up to grab your jaw, forcing you to keep your eyes on him.

“And what would your old man think about that, huh?” Logan questions lowly, his breath fanning your lips. You part your lips to answer but your words get caught in Logan’s rough lips. Your whole body tenses up for a moment before immediately melting into him.

You let him hold you, you let him push you back into the other counter behind you. You let him slip his tongue into your mouth, the taste of his earlier cigar still lingering. But it only serves to make you weaker. You groan into his mouth as his large hand suddenly slips from your wrist to your crotch, squeezing you through your sweatpants.

“School got you all pent up, yeah?” Logan asks in a huff of a breath as he just barely pulls away from your lips. Once again, he steals your lips before you can answer. Palming you through your sweatpants while his tongue explores every inch of your mouth.

He’s not wrong. It’s been just you and your hand for months now. And somehow Logan just barely touching you through your sweats is better than any night of you fucking your fist.

You can’t help but whine into his mouth when he pulls away, his hand running over your hips and waist instead. But the feeling of him pressing himself against you in his jeans quickly silences your whines. His half-erect cock grinding against your as he rolls his hips. Logan pulls back in a low groan, a thin shiny string of saliva connecting your kiss-swollen lips.

“Been thinking ‘bout you since winter, Bub. Y’know that? Pretty ass been on my mind for fucking months,” Logan says to you in a heavy breath as he swipes his thumb over your bottom lip. You just look up at him, still in slight shock at it all but your mind falling prey to the pleasure and want.

“What? You wanna do something about that?” You question quietly, your voice not matching your smug and suggestive words.

Logan smirks down at you a bit. “Damn right,” he answers, his hand on your chin shifting to your hair as he grabs a fistful of it and tilts your head to the side. His hips rolling against your again as he sinks his teeth into neck. His name falling from your lips in a whimper.

Your hand subconsciously falls to his belt, weakly trying to still his hips against yours which of course doesn’t work. Logan pulls his teeth from your neck while simultaneously guiding your hand down from his belt to the growing bulge in his jeans.

“Feel that, pretty boy? Feel what you’re doing t’me?” Logan mutters against your bruising skin. And you do feel him. A lot of him. It made you lose your breath further while shooting sparks of further arousal to your gut. “Wanna help me out, Bub? Little favor for changin’ your oil?” He requests as he sucks at your flesh, hungrily and greedily.

You move almost immediately to your knees. Breath shaking as he backs up just a bit to look down at you. A devilish grin covering his face. “Well, aren’t you just an obedient little thing,” he comments as one of his hands finds his belt, the other still in your hair.

Your heart pounding in your ears as you watch his belt unbuckle, as he unbuttons his jeans and zips them down. Your mouth damn-near watering as he tugs down his pants and boxers just enough for his dick to spring free. And oh, your jaw is going to be aching for hours.

“Look at you, all cock-thirsty. Nobody been givin’ you any attention, huh?” Logan says as he pumps himself a few times, gently guiding your head to his already leaking tip. He doesn’t have to ask before you part your lips. Maybe it was a little pathetic how quickly you dropped for him. But you couldn’t care less at the moment.

You let him sit himself on your tongue and he just basks in the view. A bit of his pre dripping onto the pink muscle. That sight alone pushed him further, pushing his hips forward until he was almost buried in your throat to the hilt. “Damn, pretty boy, you done this before or something?” Logan groans before he’s moving.

His hand in your hair keeping your head still as he begins fucking your throat. You try to keep the tears from glossing up in your eyes as he hits the back of your throat but you can’t. He doesn’t mind.

“Fuck, how has nobody claimed this perfect throat yet? Taking me so fucking well,” Logan grunts, staring right down into your glossy eyes. You let out a choked whimper around him in reply, the vibrations of the sound going straight to Logan’s cock, making his eyes fall shut as he sucks in a sharp breath. “Right, can’t answer with your mouth full of dick, can you?”

Another muffled whimper which results in him tugging on your hair. “Guess your old man was wrong, huh?” Logan pants over the sound of his balls lewdly hitting your chin, a mix of his pre and your own drool slicking the skin. “You did learn to do somethin’ useful. Damn good cock-sucker.”

Your hands hold onto his thighs as he repeatedly stuffs your face to the hilt, his fat tip kissing the back of your throat. Your nails dig into his skin through his jeans only for his eyes to roll in response. A hoarse and gruff “oh fuck” slipping through his teeth. “Been doing this for those college boys? That how you brought your little grade back up?” Logan questions roughly as he looks down to you.

Such a pretty sight you are. Eyes watering, lashes glistening, mouth full, and your lips a wet mess of your fluids.

“Mmm,” your denial doesn’t leave as words, just muffled choked sounds. A small smirk grows on Logan’s face.

“No? Ain’t that a shocker. You’d— shit— you’d make some good fucking money. Sucking cock for cash, clearly doesn't take much to get you to anyways,” Logan says, almost taunting you with his words. Taunting how fast you got on your knees for him.

You can only respond by pressing your tongue flaccid against his cock, feeling his veins pulse over the muscle. Only for him to tug on your hair when you swirl your tongue over his tip. “Fine by me,” Logan says, his voice breaking into a breathy moan. “Pretty little throat is all mine.”

You feel your own hard-on twitch in your pants at that. The idea of being all his. Even if it’s just for the summers and winters. Logan doesn’t miss the way you take him in more greedily, the way you keep letting him glide across your tongue, the way your breathing just barely steadies when you finally find a rhythm.

“Yeah? You like that idea, Bub? Being all mine?” Logan says strained, the snap of his hips growing sloppy and stuttering. All you can do is let out a muffled groan around him, staring up at him with your big eyes as the tears finally slip over. They only worsen their streams as Logan pushes your head down, giving you hardly any room to breathe as his cock twitches and he cums down your throat.

He doesn’t let you go until you’re digging your nails into his thighs again and he finally lets go of your hair. You pull away and practically gasp for the breath you lost. Coughing and heaving and sniffling as dribbles of his release rolling down your chin, followed by your tears.

“You okay down there, Bub? Too much?” Logan asks as he chases his own breath.

“No, no, i—i'm okay,” you manage to get out as you wipe at the tears and your slick chin. Logan’s low eyes drop to the tent in your sweatpants between your legs. His eyes then pull back up to yours.

“What time does your old man get off?”

[rinnstars]

types of love trope!

type of love tropes of bllk guys <3

featuring: nagi, reo, sae, ness, yuukimiya, rin: short drabbles, fluff & angst, + likes and reblogs are appreciated! <3

school romance: nagi seishiro

perhaps it’s equivalent to a string of fate - every year no matter what class, both you and nagi sit right beside each other at the left third row of the class without fail. you think it must be the universe showing signs that you two were soulmates if it wasn’t clear enough - both of you napping behind you textbooks, both of you liking and playing the same games at the same time, both of you chatting in an empty classroom every break time. its love, you think, his eyes dilates the same as you do to him, his face is uncharacterically painted with pink the same yours does when you lean in, and that same butterfly feeling erupts in his stomach the same way yours does. and its the same after school too, a routine unbreakable to the both of you - everyday after school you’d get lunch with him at the nearby school cafe, then you’d spend hours together at a nearby arcade whether it be playing rhythms games with matching gloves or even playing claw machine getting each others favourite sanrio characters matching your phone case, then you’d spend the remaining of your time at his place lazing around until your curfew to run back home with his voice chatting about anything and everything in your ears through your headphones decorated with stickers and parts bought by him. he thinks you might be the only thing waking up for - youre his morning alarm whenever you call him as youre waiting at the bus stop, youre his sunlight that he usually dreads to see but nowadays he runs down the stairs to catch a glimpse of you, youre the fire that inspires and ignites him to try new things or at least try a little more in life. and you think he’s the reason you haven’t ripped your hair out in the school - he’s your coffee to waking you up sweetly in class, poking your face as he stares at you with his big eyes, he’s your pillow that you sleep on and feel comfortable being your real self in a cutthroat academy, he’s your medicine that you kiss whenever you feel too overwhelmed behind the books that hides you from the teachers. and you hope, with all your heart, that he’ll stay forever even after the two of you graduate.

heartbreak: itoshi rin

a cycle of hurt you think - travelling from his older brother that shattered his heart that has led rin to break apart your heart with his bare hands reminiscent of the days where he broke apart pieces of lego in your room as a kid. you think its unfair how you’ve faced heartbreak this young - you’ve heard about it, talked about by relatives, seniors and parents, but never at fourteen. fourteen - you should be out having fun with all your friends playing games from the arcade, chatting about and meeting new people, trying new skills and hobbies and finding your passion. yet youre sitting here all alone eating the lunch you used to with rin, the rice now tasting salty and bitter with tears soaking it, youre here unable to enter any shops because you see rin’s ghost in there where he used to accompany you to every trip you’ve made after school, youre scared to find new people because you know, you just know it’ll be a repeat of you and rin, and youre too drained to even think of trying new things. you want to stay the same, to hope that one day if your rin comes back, he wont feel left out that you know he always feel, you want to be the constant, the earth that he can orbit around anytime as you have promised. but you know, deep down in your wounded heart, that its over. its over, no matter how much you pray to the universe, no matter how hard you sob and cry over rin, no matter how much you lock yourself in the room with his scent barely here anymore - itoshi rin will never come back. and at just fourteen, you learn of grief, you learn of abandonment and you learn of heartbreak because of him.

childhood sweetheart: alexis ness

you think you and him are two peas in one pod - always seen as a little weird for our interests. he’s always been fascinated with spells and magic and you alike, and you hope one day somehow you’ll be able to travel into the magic world inside the countless mangas you’ve read together at the playground. everyone thinks you two are silly, that you guys are just kids, but you were so sure back then that you were gonna be a fairy alongside him with the countless of spells learnt from shows. now you think a little different - maybe growing up meant having to let go of those childish dreams of waking up in a fairy world by closing our door and spraying those scam-like perfume, having to let go those now dusty fairy wands your parents keep in a cardboard box that you remember every spring cleaning season, having to let go of your fantasy to being with him. yet, you can’t bear to throw them away despite your parents insistence in doing so, that it takes too much space in their house. but, that would mean that there will be no longer any physical reminders of ness, your first childhood play buddy. and youre not sure if he ever got to keep those, especially when you see his family’s garage sale selling all his toys including those fairy mangas. you never met ness again, you think the universe is cruel for giving you a mere three years to be with him. yet you know all his quirks, you know how he has the tendency to be clingy, hugging and tugging at you mid roleplay, you know how he has the tendency to cry a little too easily at the slightest slip of his feet, you know how he has the tendency to believe things too naively. and you wonder if his family ever knows him, those tall and grown adults like slender men haunting his house that yells at him. but maybe, you hope, that one day he’ll come back to your house for one

in every lifetime: reo mikage

he’s too used to changing every aspect of himself - being the golden and perfect heir to his fathers empire, being the charming and friendly prince figure in all of his classmates vision, being the best at everything from academics to sports to the arts. there’s no room for him to fail, for him to stop the charades, for him to remove the mask he’s been wearing all his life. but with you, its like his walls are broken down, its like he isn’t just the heir or just the majestic prince - that he’s just reo. you think its silly for him to try so hard, you melt the walls of his heart before you know it to see the real him underneath the chameleon skin that wraps him and restrains his real self. you adore his real smile that is a little crooked, you adore his clumsy skipping that it’s clear he’s never tried, you adore his long talks about his interests in the cafe that is far from his usual taste. and he thinks you’d like him in all the versions of him - whether that be a jester in the court to the princess he’s sure you are, or the bee to you the prettiest flower he’s ever seen, or like barbie and ken he thinks maybe after rewataching the whole series and movies on your bed during the holidays. and you think the same too, that you’ll find him in every lifetime - whether that be a thief in the night accidentally stumbling a rebellious prince, be a cat stumbling into a wolf, be a bee stumbling across the flower that is him too. you think you and him are connected by a red string that stubbornly ties around both of you, leading to you guys to knock against each other each step you take, pulling you guys together from two worlds to collide together, for you guys to love each other despite the uncertainties and thorns that are ahead of your journey. but you know, in every lifetime, you’ll always be reo’s and reo will always be yours.

first love: yuukimiya kenyu

every spring, you get reminded of your first love - reminiscent of flowers that bloomed by the walls on your way to school, reminiscent of the colourful butterfly that landed always on him, reminiscent of the smell of sweet and floral spring that you would wake up to every morning. he was the spring to your winter, always brightening up your day with his bright smile and shining eyes. you think he’s changed you for the better - he’s made you used to waking up early in the morning so you wont ever be late for school missing half the things in your bag, he’s made you much more optimistic seeing everything in colours rather than the colourless world you were used to, he’s made you much more outspoken always encouraging you to speak up in class and every aspect of your life. he was the first epitome of love, sweet and warm embrace of personalisation of love he was. red love that melts right into your skin with each touch that leaves an everlasting print on your body, red love that reflects light that kisses your skin he same way he used to, red love that travels through your body and explodes in your chest, heart pumping full of love for him. he was your first everything - your first kiss, your first sleepover, your first boyfriend. but sometimes you wish he wasn’t just your first love that you wish that he was the love that lasted your whole lifetime - that he didn’t have to leave so soon with a broken heart that can never heal with that same sugary sweet smile that you fell in love with.

the one that got away: itoshi sae

somedays, you look at the polaroids of you and sae and you wonder what could’ve been. you know hes doing well in spain, youve heard about it on social media, from ex-classmates, from your parents. they ask you about him, how he is, how hes doing - but you dont want to admit that youve lost him a long time ago. you smile tightly and nod, laugh along and whatnot, but theres a drowning feeling in your heart that swallows you a little inside in a black hole at each question posed at you. you don’t want to admit that he’s far gone away somewhere else, somewhere else without you, somewhere else better than you - just holed up in your room, studying and studying. you’ve dreamt of staying with him, to receive him from the airport that night and every other times he’s come home, to have him stay in your room just like back then - just him and you lying on your bed with yours and his playlist on the record tape that has long become outdated. you’ve dreamt of just being with him, nothing changing between the two of you - where he still looked in your eyes, where he still visited your house, where he still shopped at that same run-down convenience store you used to go after school before he picked up his little brother. sometimes, you understand rin - both byproducts of sae’s filmsy and broken promises, both never moving on from the one that got away - and perhaps in another life, you hope, you plead, you wish to the universe or even god, that in a parallel universe, that he never left you heartbroken in the rain at the doorsteps of your house, that you selfishly wished he never left for spain in the first place, that he wasn’t the one that got away.

[woodland-gremlin]

Ancestor's Fury AU

( Inspired by @glow-in-the-dark-death and @vixen-uchiha )

The Infinite Realms are, well, Infinite. They are the doorway between dimensions and contain every after life. This includes the Krypton one.

When Danny learned that the Infinite realms contained the afterlife for aliens he didn’t stop gushing about it to Jazz for days. He was awestruck. Not everyone would stop to talk to this excited child, especially when they don’t know that he is the King, but some would, like the Kryptons. They were quite happy to talk to the boy king, especially when they could get updates on the last of their kind in the Living Realm. When they learned about the Anti-Ecto Acts and the role the Justice league and the last of their living had in it they were angry and confused. To learn about why the Justice League didn't do anything about the Acts they traveled into the Living Realm to find out. This is how they found out about how Superman treats Superboy.

When Danny first told them about Superboy they threw a party, after all they gained a new family member. Look at the baby, isn’t he adorable?! Traveling to the Living Realm and finding out he was a clone didn’t change that fact. Learning how Superman treats him for being a clone however opens the floodgates of their fury. They were already weary because of the inaction with the Anti-Ecto Acts and now he is calling the baby an “it”! Not happening on their watch.

Then they remember the boy king. The one who brought this to their attention in the first place and who has a clone he treats as family. So they decided to bring this to his attention.

Danny, when he learns of this, is furious. He knows what it is like to be cloned by your worst enemy in an attempt to replace you, but that is on the fruitloop who cloned you not the child who was dragged into their scheme and is as much of a victim as you are. He could never treat Ellie the way Superdouche does. For Ancients sake he was barely a teenager when it happened and yet he handled it better than a full grown adult superhero (not that he should be called that after what he has done).

In conclusion no one is happy with the news, especially Ellie. She is furious with how her fellow clone is treated and is definitely planning Superasses demise, though silver lining, clone buddy!

All of this leads to Danny putting a blacklist on Superman. No one from the realms can help him and are welcome to beat him up as long as no one else gets hurt. So when the JL Dark gets called to help because Superman keeps getting targeted by supernatural beings they refuse and explain the black listing. The JL then bullies John Constintine into summoning the Ghost King, who is his nephew, not that they know that, to retract the blacklisting.

Danny: Yeah no, can’t help you there. The ghosts hunting you down are not very happy with your parenting, and neither am I for that matter.

Superman: ??? I don’t have a son.

Danny: *sarcastically* So the kid running around with the moniker Superboy is someone else’s Krypton kid? Sorry, didn’t know there was another Krypton that survived the destruction of their planet.

Superman: It’s a clone, not my son.

Danny: *pissed* He is not an it! You may not consider him your son but the ghosts of Krypton do. Your parents thought the Kents raised you better than that.

Meanwhile, elsewhere:

Ellie: *tackles Superboy* Clone Buddy!!

Superboy: *surprised Pikachu face*

[lovemaybankk]

sweet - part 1: rafe cameron x kook!reader

pairing: rafe cameron x kook!reader

read part 2 here!

inspired by lana del rey's song, "sweet" ♡

summary: growing up with your protective older brother, topper thornton, has been challenging yet comforting. until recently, have you been starting to see your older brother's friend, rafe cameron, in a new light and your relationship with him starts to change.

word count: 2,324 words

author's note: thank you so much for reading this new series!! i sincerely hope you enjoy :)

p.s. next chapter includes smut!!

warning: cursing, mostly fluff!

"topper!" you called out, your voice sharp as it bounced off the walls of your large kitchen. "topper, where are you?!" frustration bubbled up as you roamed through your house, checking room after room. the faint thrum of loud music reached your ears, pulling your attention toward the home gym.

with a deep breath, you shoved open the door to the home gym, the music instantly blasting at full volume as if it had been lying in wait.

"topper!" you yelled, your voice barely cutting through the pounding bass that seemed to vibrate the very walls.

dumbbells, resistance bands, and foam rollers were scattered across the floor and in the center of it all, topper was doing bicep curls with his dumbbells, completely immersed in his conversation with his two friends, kelce and rafe. you had absolutely no idea how they could even hear each other with that loud of music playing.

"topper!" you shouted again, louder this time. he froze mid-curl, finally noticing you, and a little startled yet annoyed at his younger sister for barging in.

"what do you want, y/n?" he barked, as though you were the one intruding.

you marched straight to the speaker and turned the volume down to a level that wouldn’t have the neighbors filing noise complaints. the music dropped to a faint hum.

behind you, kelce was pumping through incline bench presses, his grunts in rhythm with his reps. rafe, meanwhile, was bent over a barbell, effortlessly pulling through a set of deadlifts.

"are you kidding me?" you snapped, spinning around to glare at your brother. "topper, you ate my food in the fridge! that was mine!"

he rolled his eyes, tossing the dumbbells onto the floor with a loud thud. "god, y/n, relax. it’s not a big deal. i'll give you cash and you can buy another one that's freshly cooked anyways."

"you’re so selfish, you know that?" you said, folding your arms.

he snorted. "chill out, y/n. here..." he pulled out his phone in his pockets and started frantically pressing the screen. you felt a vibration in your pockets and brought your phone lit up to your face to see a notification,

"'top' sent $100"

"that should be more than enough. go get yourself snacks if you want too. whatever will make you shut the hell up."

growing up, topper had a habit of finding ways to annoy you whether it was stealing your food when he knew you’d been saving it, blasting his music in the middle of your movie nights (with yourself), and even leaving behind his messes for you to clean.

and yet, in his own way, he cared about you. like the time in elementary school when you scraped your knee during a particularly bad fall on your bike. you’d been crying, more out of frustration than pain, and instead of teasing you for being "soft," he had come back minutes later with a band-aid, your favorite snack, and an awkward pat on the back.

there were moments when he let his guard down to be a good older brother. moments when he’d pick you up from sports practice, or buy you a bag of clothes after a long day, or cover for you when you accidentally broke the vase that one summer.

since then, topper had continued to care for you in his clumsy older-brother way. sure, your parents mostly favored him but their expectations for him still existed. they expected him to excel, to lead, and to be a perfect role model for you, especially since he was (exactly two years) older. topper carried the weight of their demands, which often translated into him pestering you with the same energy he’d picked up from your parents. like now.

"why don’t you just go and hop on your bike now, huh?" he said, cracking open his water bottle as though the solution was obvious. "go grab something to eat, chill out, and leave us alone."

"it’s literally freezing outside, topper," you shot back, already regretting coming into the gym.

"you’ll be fine,” he said, smirking as he leaned back against the bench.

and before you could deliver your next scathing comeback, rafe came in, setting down his barbell with a clang. "i’ll drive her," he offered, shrugging casually as he wiped his hands on a nearby towel. "it’s too cold for a bike ride, and she looks like she’s about to bite your head off, dude."

truth be told, you’d always kind of liked rafe cameron growing up. unlike most of topper’s other friends, who barely acknowledged your existence, rafe was the one who always made an effort to be friendly. he’d always greet you when he came over, ask how school was going, and sometimes even share a laugh at topper’s expense with you.

and then there was that one memorable time, back during the ninth-grade, when you’d gotten stood up for your first high school dance. you’d spent weeks picking out the perfect dress, building up the courage to say yes when a boy you liked asked you to go. but when the night came, he’d never shown up. you had sat on the couch, trying to hide your disappointment as topper and his friends teased you about your "special night".

rafe had been different, though. he’d walked into the room, taken one look at you sitting there all dressed up, and without missing a beat, said, "i’ll take you." you’d blinked at him in response, a little stunned. "what?"

"i’ll take you to the dance," he repeated, a faint grin on his face as he shrugged. "you’ve already got the dress and everything, right? might as well go."

topper had rolled his eyes and laughed, but rafe had ignored him. twenty minutes later, he was in a suit jacket, standing by the front door, waiting for you like a proper date.

that night, he made sure you didn’t feel out of place, even though you were nervous and embarrassed at first. he’d danced with you, cracked jokes until you were smiling, and even pretended to be your date when your friends asked questions.

when the night had finally wound down, rafe hadn’t dropped you off and gone home like anyone else would. he’d offered to take you out for a late-night snack. so, the two of you had ended up at a diner near the city, picking at plates of fries and sharing stories while the neon lights flickered outside. and for a brief moment, it made you forget all the times you felt like an afterthought in your family, while your older brother was the center of attention.

that night had turned into one of those memories that stuck with you dearly. and though rafe was still the same cocky, laid-back guy, he had an empathy that maybe only you saw. and by the way, your older brother made the decision to gather himself and his friends, including rafe, to "confront" that same boy who stood you up.

topper groaned, rolling his eyes. "fine. go, whatever. just let me and kelce finish our workout in peace."

luckily, rafe was already grabbing his keys.

"c’mon," he said, his voice low but firm. "i could use the break anyway."

as you climbed into rafe’s car, you glanced around the messy interior: empty water bottles, a stray jacket, and a faint scent of mint and cologne. he turned down the music as he started the engine, his movements smooth and unhurried.

"you okay?" he asked, glancing over at you as the car warmed up along with the slightly loud noises of the air conditioning. his tone was casual, but there was an edge of sincerity in it that comforted you. "yes," you muttered. "thanks for this."

he smirked, his eyes briefly meeting yours. "don’t thank me yet. topper for sure owes me for this one."

you couldn’t help but laugh a little, the tension from earlier melting enough to make the ride bearable.

as rafe pulled into the familiar parking lot, you realized where he was taking you: the same diner you’d gone to after the dance. the neon lights flickered outside, casting a soft glow across the empty lot. a wave of nostalgia hit you, and you couldn’t help but smile at the memory of that night.

inside, the warmth of the diner greeted you, and the smell of greasy fries and fresh burgers filled the air. you both slid into a booth, and rafe didn’t waste any time before he ordered. you hesitated, but eventually chose something simple, the kind of comfort food you knew would hit the spot.

"you know, this place actually isn’t half bad," rafe said as he looked over at you, his voice light. he gave you a quick smile before shrugging.

you laughed, feeling a little lighter. "it's actually really good!"

as the food arrived, rafe handed you his jacket, noticing you shiver. "here, you look like you could use it." you blinked in surprise, but his easy, nonchalant gesture made it feel completely natural. you draped it over your shoulders, grateful for the warmth.

the ride back home was quiet, the sound of the car humming as you leaned back against the seat. the warmth from the jacket and the full stomach made your eyelids heavy, and before long, you were drifting off, your head lolling against the window.

when the car finally stopped, you felt a gentle nudge on your shoulder. "hey," rafe said softly, "we’re here."

you blinked awake, your body delaying to respond. you looked like a complete mess with a little drool coming out and your hair bunched up, but he didn’t say anything. instead, he gently slid the seat back, helping you out of the car.

before you could protest, he had already scooped you up into his arms, carrying you with surprising ease toward the front door.

"rafe, what the....?" you mumbled, still half-asleep and confused, but he didn’t answer. he just chuckled quietly and continued up the stairs to your room. when he set you down on your bed, he tucked the blanket around you, his movements careful as if he were trying not to wake you completely.

"get some sleep y/n," he said softly, pausing at the door. "you’ll need it."

your eyes fluttered closed again, the warmth of your bed and the comfort of rafe’s care wrapping around you. you barely registered when the door shut, but you knew, even if you couldn’t thank him properly, he’d done something more than just drop you off.

you felt a sudden tug at your shoulders, and your eyes slowly blinked open to find your older brother standing over you, shaking you awake.

"oh my god, what do you want, topper?!" you groaned, trying to push the blankets over your head in a futile attempt to block out the morning.

"it's 10 am y/n," he said, his voice more annoying than usual, "you remember breakfast with our grandparents, right?"

you blinked a few times, still trying to shake off the fog of sleep. the memory gradually crept back into your mind, and you groaned again, this time more out of frustration than sleepiness.

"ugh, i forgot about that," you muttered, rubbing your eyes and sitting up. "why did you have to remind me? it's too early for this."

topper shrugged, unfazed by your groggy attitude. "because mom wants us there by 11, and you know how she gets when we’re late. i also know you take forever to get ready and clearly, you're not even close to ready."

you shot him a glare, already thinking about how this day was shaping up to be like every other which was full of reminders about family obligations. "fine," you grumbled, throwing off the covers and getting out of bed. "i’ll go. but this better be worth it."

"no wonder you're so tired," he said, clearly annoyed. "i bet staying out late with rafe last night did you in, huh?"

you groaned, sitting up a little, now fully aware of the teasing tone in his voice. "it wasn’t that late," you mumbled, trying to sound convincing, but you knew he wouldn’t let it slide. "and maybe if you didn't eat my food, i would've slept at a decent time. and your friend actually had the decency to help me get that food back."

topper raised an eyebrow. "sure..." he paused and gave you a concerned look.

"and i’m not exhausted because of that, topper," you snapped, rubbing your face. "i’m just exhausted because you woke me up too early."

he let out a little laugh, walking toward the door. he shot you a teasing grin before he left. "you know, if you didn't stay up snacking with him, maybe you wouldn't be like this right now."

"you’re a pain in the ass," you muttered under your breath as he disappeared, but you couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped. you knew he was just being his usual protective yet controlling self, and maybe, just maybe, there was a hint of concern underneath the teasing regarding his friend's relationship with his little sister.

you heard the door suddenly open again, with topper lingering by the hinge, his hand hovering over the handle. "by the way," he said, his tone still calm, "we go in thirty minutes. so be ready and at the car."

"i got it," you grumbled, not looking up from where you were half-draped over your bed.

topper didn’t wait for a response. he just turned and walked out, leaving the door wide open.

"topper, are you serious?!" you called after him, your frustration mounting. "close my door!"

but of course, he didn’t. typical of him.

you sighed in annoyance, getting up to close the door yourself. and with the door finally shut, you hurried to get ready. you took a deep breath, grabbing your belongings and heading downstairs, ready to face whatever the day had in store.

[viennakarma]

My dearest friend and enemy

Part 1 | Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: You and Fernando always dreamed of the day you'd get into Formula 1. Unfortunately, the competition, the pride and the stubborness, get in the way of a beautiful friendship.

Word count: 7.8k

Tags: female!reader, driver reader, coming of age, ups and downs of a friendship, brocedes coded, very very angsty, cursing, anger, fights, overuse of flavio briatore as a plot device, lots of low blows, sprinkles of romance, kissing, making out, happy ending, not beta read

Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Note: Someone requested this, with this very detailed request, and it has consumed my every thought for the past week or two. I had to tweak some things from the request here and there, hope it's ok. It's heavily inspired by brocedes. Obviously we don't have all the facts with whatever happened to Lewis and Nico, but I have my own theories, that I tossed around this story here and there. (There is a lot of info that is wrong or inaccurate, I did this on purpose to fit my narrative, if you catch them, please ignore)

I'm sorry if it feels rushed, this was getting way too long and I just wanted to follow my heart. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx

[If you have never listened to Tamino, or never heard this song, please do a favor to your brain and heart, and listen!]

Find me on Twitter!

PART 2 (END)

You wouldn’t cry. You wouldn’t cry.

You repeated those words to yourself as you stared at your fucked up kart, it wasn’t even starting. You didn’t have any more money to repair it, and if you didn’t, then you wouldn’t be able to keep going in the competition.

“Hey, are you alright kid?” Someone stopped you, and your tears fell down. You used the sleeve of your overalls to wipe your face.

“I won’t make it to the final round of the competition,” you pointed to your kart.

The boy knelt down beside you, taking a look at your kart. It was the first time you really looked at him. He was a bit older than you, probably two or three years, since you had seen him in the next category, and you knew he was one of the best from what you could see.

He walked away suddenly, but came back a minute later with a tool box. He knelt down and started tinkering with your kart.

“What- what are you doing?” You asked crouching beside him. He only hummed, seemingly concentrating on his work.

After a few minutes of silence, he asked you to test to see if it would work, and you started your kart, and it did work.

“Oh my god!” You smiled, leaving the kart, “how- how much does it cost?”

“Don’t worry, I wanted to help,” he shrugged, putting back his tools.

“Are you sure?” You asked again.

“Yes,” he stood up, and as his eyes found yours, shining under the sunlight, you smiled at each other.

“Thank you so much!” You said, offering a hand for him to shake.

“I’m Fernando,” he said, and as you said your name back, he smiled a little shyly and just said, “I know.”

“You know?” You whispered.

“Yeah. I’ve seen you in your kart. You’re good.”

You bashed under his praise, cheeks warming and stomach full of butterflies.

From then on, you and Fernando became friends, always meeting up in karting competitions, despite being usually in different categories, since he was a bit older than you. But you’d always be seen together on those occasions, or either of you on the stands, cheering for the other. Your parents knew you were close friends, and after a while, your parents would take turns at taking you two for competitions, usually going together.

You met again when you got to the Spanish Junior Championship, it was your first time at that competition and it would be Fernando’s third. Your rivalry was mostly playful in that competition, you were still the best of friends, even when you got close to his score, you still managed to leave the rivalry on the track. When it ended and you stared up at Fernando from the second place podium, you felt proud of him, happy even. You understood that he had more experience than you, winning that competition three times in a row, and you always would have next year to catch up to him.

That day when he took your hand to walk back to his dad, he held your hand tight. And when they dropped you off at home, you winked at him.

“I’ll catch you next year.” You walked to the door hearing him and José Luis laughing back in the car.

You didn’t manage to catch him next year. Fernando reached new heights as he moved up to world championships. Life took you apart, and without your greatest opponent in the championship, you took it home for three years in a row.

The next few years, you and Fernando were mostly apart. The distance was eating you thin, even when you two managed to talk for a couple of hours on the phone, or whenever he sent you letters talking about his biggest achievements. You still saw each other over summer and winter, which was what mostly kept your bond strong. You also managed to kart for fun sometimes, or go for ice cream, or just sit on the porch of your house, talking about life. You two always shared an ice cream on your birthdays, a tradition that was born ever since you were 13, and you and Fernando gathered together every coin you had to be able to buy one ice cream cone that you happily shared sitting on a sidewalk.

“We’ll make it to Formula 1 one day, Nena.”

You laughed. Despite being the greatest dream of them all, by that time, it had been twenty years since the last woman had been in a Formula 1 car, really competing. You wanted to, so bad, but you didn’t want to get any hope for it to be crushed later on.

“You, most likely, Nano. You’re brilliant, I’m sure you’re going to be a world champion one day,” you said, playful, “just don’t forget us peasants when you’re rich and famous.”

“You have too much faith in me, Nena,” he shook his head.

“No, I just know stuff. When you get your world championship, I hope you will hear my voice in your head telling you I told you so.”

He laughed it off.

Fernando extended you a bottle of cheap wine, it was his way of celebrating your 18th birthday, now you were of age. The wine warmed you up, leaving a pretty stain in both of your lips. 

“What about that girl you liked? Are you dating her yet?” You asked to break the silence.

“No…” he shrugged then took the bottle from you to take a chug straight from it, “she’s not for me.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, even though he didn’t look particularly unhappy about it.

“Don’t be. It was just a silly crush,” his lips turned down, “The girls don’t find me attractive enough,” he shook his head, feeling shy for having this conversation with you, “and I don’t know, I’ve always been a little shy, I guess. I don’t have much experience in romance. None, if I’m being honest.”

“None?!” You sounded shocked at his lack of romance. He just shook his head. 

At eighteen you had your fair share of teen love, having crushes here and there, sometimes even sharing kisses under the bleachers at school. Fernando was your best friend and you knew him like no one, and you could see that he was lonely and feeling embarrassed, up until that point, his life had been school, karting and work to fund his karting.

“Would you like to?” You asked, suddenly turning to him after drinking a sip of courage from the wine bottle.

“Like to what?” He frowned.

“To be kissed?” You whispered, and looked behind you, inside your house, where your parents were inside.

Your heart raced faster than you ever did, his pretty eyes looking for your face, trying to find any sign of joking, like you were just being silly. But you were serious, looking at his face intently. You were about to back pedal when he nodded softly.

“What-” his voice failed, and he gulped nervously, “what should I do?”

“Just follow my lead, and you will feel what to do,” you said, extending a hand and holding his face, “close your eyes.”

He did, and you just closed the distance quietly, but when you had barely touched his lips with yours, he bursted out laughing, leaning back. You also laughed at the strangeness of the situation.

“It’s ok, we don’t have to, Nano” you recovered, but he shook his head, giggling.

“No, sorry, sorry! You’re my favorite person, I trust you,” he sighed, closing his eyes again.

You held his face, trying to get closer again, and this time he let you. With a soft press, you pecked his lips for a couple of seconds. You felt butterflies in your stomach, and they pushed you to push into his lips, mouth opening a little and him following your lead. One of his hands found your face, and you deepened the kiss. He was inexperienced but surprisingly patient, letting you lead and slowly picking your pace and moves. Your kiss turned into an almost make out session, lasting long minutes, with Fernando getting the hang of it with every passing second. When you parted, his cheeks and lips were red, and you two smiled nervously at each other.

“Was that ok?” You asked, suddenly insecure.

“More than ok,” he whispered back, “I think we-”

A loud noise from inside your house made you two jump away from each other, and a second later, your mom’s voice boomed through the door, reminding you of your curfew, and checking your watch, you noticed it was almost eleven.

“Sorry, Nano. I have to go,” you stood up and he followed you.

“See you Saturday to go karting?” He asked just to confirm the plans you had made earlier.

“See you,” you waved awkwardly before sprinting inside your house.

Skipping to your room, you locked the door behind you and pressed a hand to your lips, still warm from kissing your best friend. Going to your window, you pulled on the curtains and watched through the gap as Fernando left, calmly walking down the street.

You never talked about it. And when you met again at the end of the week, none of you mentioned the kiss, things quickly went back to normal as you two pretended it never happened. Over a few months, your heart never let you forget about the kiss you shared with your best friend, and whenever you laid in bed to sleep, your mind would wander back to that specific night. You spent months building up the courage to confess you had feelings for him, and you wanted to be more than friends. Your choice was to tell him on his birthday, when you usually would go for a birthday ice cream.

“I need to tell you something-” You said at the same time he muttered, “Can I tell you something?”

“Go ahead,” he said, gesturing to you, but at that point, your bravery quickly faded.

“No, you first. You’re the birthday boy!”

“Uh, I’m dating a girl. I’m going to introduce her to you and my family at the birthday party tonight.”

That moment, with a smile frozen on your face, a small part of you was ripped forever. The excitement and fear of a young love turned into stone at the pit of your stomach. To this day, you don’t know how you managed to not burst into tears that very moment. Instead, you kept smiling, asking Fernando for more details so he could get distracted and not notice the pain in your eyes.

Managing to bury what you decided to call a silly teen infatuation after a few months, your friendship with Fernando became even stronger everyday that passed. 

You made it to the international and European competitions, winning the former twice in a row, and the latter once. You were in the Euro Open when Fernando made it to Formula 1.

He told you personally, when he signed with Minardi, and you were so happy you jumped on his arms, hugging him tight and screaming.

“I told you! I told you!” You shouted, as he carried your feet from the floor, “My best friend is in Formula 1! Oh my god, Nano!” You let go of him, your smile barely fitting your face, “I’m gonna be insufferable! I’m claiming bragging rights right now!”

He only laughed at your happy ramble.

You balanced your competitions with working double shifts for almost two months, so you could afford to go to the Spanish Grand Prix the year of his Formula One debut. He didn’t win anything that year, but he still had your immense support every step of the way. When waves of self doubt came and left him shaken, you’d hug him and whisper softly how he was just a rookie, how he would still have time to prove himself.

“You’re gonna be one of the best there is, Nano.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

He also would show you support whenever your schedule at the Euro Open didn’t coincide with his at Formula 1. It was one of the best feelings to get to the podium and see your best friend as you held the trophy. When you finally found him after the podium, he hugged you for a moment, commenting on his favorite moments from your race. As you stood, he gestured to someone, and a beautiful girl came closer.

“Nena, this is my girlfriend, Lucia,” he pointed. Your smile froze for a second. Another one, since the girl from last year couldn’t handle the distance of dating someone who was constantly traveling the world.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” You shook her hand, suddenly self conscious of your frizzy hair and sweat damp overalls. She was so pretty. So much prettier than you. 

Lucia was pretty and kind, a little bit clingy, but she treated you very well, and wasn’t jealous of your friendship with Fernando, different from the last one. All your flings never went as far as becoming boyfriend or girlfriend, so you decided to focus more on racing and trying to make a name for yourself.

“Fernando,” you called one of the rare days you two were both free and could laze around, this time, sitting on the ground of the garden, staring at the clear sky and sharing a pint of ice cream.

“Hm?”

“I talked to your dad, and you’re going to be free the day of the last race of the Euro Open, so I was wondering if you will come to see me become the champion?” You turned to him, a smile adorning your face.

“Confident, are you?” He teased your certainty that you would win the competition.

“Not confident, just focused,” you corrected him, and started explaining the date of the race, but as you talked, his smile quickly faded and you stopped.

“I’m sorry, Nena. It’s Lucia’s graduation that day, I can’t miss it.”

You swallowed, thinking it would matter so much to you that he’d be there, but at the same time, you didn’t want to be selfish or make it seem like you’re competing with the girl he loved. You tried to disguise the disappointment in your face, but he noticed. At that point he knew you for half of your lives, he knew very well when you tried to mask your sadness. And unfortunately, he had been on the receiving end of that sad face one too many times.

“Oh,” you nodded, “Don’t worry, I totally understand.”

Fernando pressed his lips thin, your meek voice doing nothing to soothe the squeezing in his heart.

The day you won the Euro Open, you could barely contain your happiness as you stood on the podium, showing your trophy to your parents, who were watching you all emotional. As the podium ceremony finished, you walked back to your parents, your mom wiping her tears and your dad the happiest. Then, you finally noticed Fernando was with them.

“Nano!” You hugged him.

“Congratulations, champion!” He said. Your heart was so full you thought it would explode, so all you managed to say were two words.

“You came.”

“You called.”

Later you found out through your mom, who found out through Fernando’s mom, who found out from Fernando’s dad, that Fernando and Lucia had broken up. They said it was because of the distance and the relationship didn’t last more than seven months. You couldn’t blame her, you as his best friend barely saw him that year either.

You became a reserve driver for Renault in 2003, meeting Flavio Briatore yourself after you won the Formula 3000 two years in a row. You knew that, by that time, Fernando had ties with Flavio, but the man assured you it had nothing to do with Fernando, and everything to do with you being extremely talented.

Still, that same week you found Fernando, to inquire if he had anything to do with Flavio’s invitation, but he assured you that you’d achieved that with your own merit. The unexpected chance to race came when by the end of the following year, Fernando’s teammate was fired by the end of the season. So you had to replace him for the remaining three races of the season, the team fighting for P2 in the constructors championship. The first two races you went alright placing P7 and P5, but still not where you wanted to place.

“Hey, you’re doing great, Nena,” Fernando told you right before the race started. He knew you were upset, frustration practically emanating from your body.

“Not as great as I can do,” you shook your head.

“Just do your best, ignore everything else.”

You nodded, before closing your overalls and gettin ready to get in the car. That race, you and Fernando managed to race just like in your karting days, with a silent partnership never seen before coming from Fernando. You placed a 2-3 podium, him ahead of you.

When you got out of the car, you jumped straight into his arms, screaming and celebrating. Your first ever podium in Formula 1.

During post race interviews you accidentally let out to the media that you and Fernando were childhood best friends, which they took as a personal reason to go digging into your lives.

Next season, Flavio signed you with the team. But before anything, he sat you down for a talk. He explained how Fernando would be top priority this year, you were a rookie, and they would offer you all the support but you had to help Fernando first.

“You will gain experience, work together with your best friend, and we can achieve great things this year. And depending on how good of a performance you show this year, next year you will be able to race for the championship, yes?” Flavio explained.

And you were fine with that, Fernando would be the main priority while you took the year to get used to the car, to being in an entirely new category, while helping your best friend reach his peak. It was the dream, finally. It was the thing both of you had daydreamed together, nothing could get in the way of that.

So you did just that. You kept your head down, fighting fiercely against your rivals, and keeping yourself out of the way whenever you and Fernando were close in a race. Your time would come, as Flavio had promised. That season you managed good results in the points, and even got five podium finishes, which landed you fourth in the drivers’ championship and managed Renault to win the constructors.

That day in Interlagos, during the Brazilian Grand Prix, you woke up knowing Fernando would become world champion. You didn’t tell him to not put any more pressure on him. He only needed a podium to mathematically become the champion of the world.

He finished P3, and you finished P7. Seeing Fernando radiantly happy, dancing, shouting and jumping was etched forever in your brain as one of your happiest memories. The way he eventually found you, holding you firmly against him, the both of you crying happy tears became headlines all around the world.

“I told you, didn’t I?” You broke the hug so you could stare into his red rimmed eyes.

“You did. You’re right more often than not, I’ve come to realize.” He whispered. When someone tried to put a mic in your faces, Fernando pushed it away.

“This is your moment, go.” You gestured to the other side, where he had to go before the podium.

Looking up from the ground to Fernando, you were so happy you thought your heart would burst open. And you couldn’t wait for it to be your turn, to feel this happiness the other way around.

That night, you, Fernando and the entire team got ready to party, to celebrate his championship. You dressed up to the nines, putting makeup and spending a good half an hour styling your hair. When you left the elevator, meeting the whole team at the lobby, they shouted and whistled saying you were pretty. It made you a bit shy but you liked the attention.

You and Fernando danced and drank like crazy that night, going strong all the way into the morning. When the party ended and you two sat on your suite balcony, watching the sun rise, you bought out an ice cream pint you had kept in the room minibar.

“How do you feel, Mr. World Champion?” You sat cross legged in front of him.

“Like a dream come true, sometimes I don’t even believe it’s real,” he said, staring into the horizon.

“Remember when we would talk about this moment?” You took his hand in yours, as he nodded, “Wow. This is great. I’m so happy for you, and happy for fifteen year-old Nano, the bright eyed boy that fixed my kart charge free.”

It’s barely a second after you finished speaking that Fernando leaned into your space and just kissed your lips. It took you a second to understand what was going on, but when his hand found your hair, you reciprocated. His lips, that had been cold from the ice cream quickly became warm under your ministrations. You held his shoulders and let him pull you closer, until you were straddling his lap. The kiss was messy, all over the place, clanking lips, teeth and tongue. You moaned softly as he squeezed your ass, and you pulled his hair at the nape, grinding down on his lap, making him groan too.

“We should not,” he said, breaking the kiss. You nodded, panting.

“Yeah, totally, we-” you tried to speak but he nipped at your neck and you lost all train of thought.

“No, we won’t ruin-” he tried again but you pulled his hair, forcing his head up so you could kiss him.

“You’re right-” you muttered against his lips, right before smashing it when you kissed him again. You stayed there, kissing, making out like you were teenagers again, too scared to reach for each other's clothes and take the next step.

When the sun was fully up in the sky, and whatever was left of the ice cream had melted, your alarm rang, and you and Fernando parted. You were about to invite him to sleep with you for a few hours when he paused, his face worried. Fernando took one of your hands.

“This is a one time- thing, right?” He frowned, and you swallowed before nodding.

“Yes, of course.” You don’t correct him with memories of your eighteenth birthday.

“I just, I don’t want anything to ruin our friendship,” he stared at you, visibly scared for your friendship, and you didn’t have the heart to ask for more.

“It won’t ruin, I promise. If you want, we can forget it ever happened,” you said, hoping and praying he would change his mind. But he looked relieved at your words.

After he left, you sat down on the bed, disheartened, knowing that these scraps of affection would have to be stored in a safe spot inside your heart, and would be nothing more than memories, and what-ifs you’d only dare to look at late in your sleepless nights. You wondered how many times he would have to undervalue your romantic affections for you to understand he didn’t want you and never would. That was the second time you shared a moment, and the second time he had dismissed it. It’s not meant to be, you whispered to yourself.

When the new season started, you had gotten a grip over your feelings for him, focused on moving on. Being in love with your best friend for around a decade was pathetic enough.

Fernando was great during the start of the season, scoring two wins within the first three races. And despite not being the results you wanted, you placed top ten in all of them, even managing one podium finish.

When the fourth race came, though, it was when you and Fernando started to collapse. It was a very carefully plotted race for you and your team, and after managing your tyres with care, you didn’t have to pit twice. And you won, for the first time ever, you stood on the top of the podium. Unfortunately, Fernando didn’t get a podium. Holding your trophy, you looked down from the podium looking to your team, and searching for Fernando.

He wasn’t there, and your heart shattered a bit with his absence.

Maybe he had a problem and couldn’t be there for you. Maybe he was busy.

You went down to speak to the press, happily talking about strategies, how you and your team masterminded it, how you managed to preserve your tyres for longer than expected.

“How do you and Fernando manage to balance your friendship out of the track with the rivalry happening inside the track?” Someone asked. You were caught by surprise, taking a few seconds to actually compute the words he said.

“Well, I haven’t seen Fernando yet, but I believe he’d be happy for my good result as much as I’d be happy for him,” you told him, but immediately regretted it as the reporter had a gotcha expression on his face.

“Well, actually, this is what Fernando said a few minutes ago when he gave an interview-”

The man gave you a tape recorder attached to a pair of headphones, and your stomach filled with dread as he pressed rewind and play.

“Fernando, today’s win puts your best friend as a contender for the championship, what do you say?”

“Well, I believe she is talented, but too young and not yet ready to face me and actually compete for the championship.”

His voice was bitter, like he didn’t see you as nothing but a bug under his shoes. Instead of making you sad, it only left you seething in anger, but as you removed the headphones, you controlled the urge to smash the headphones on the nearest wall and smirked coldly to the camera that was waiting for your reaction.

“What do you think about Fernando saying you’re still not ready to become world champion?” The reporter urged, waiting for a beef that he would successfully get.

“Well, I guess he feels threatened by me, so I’ll take that as a compliment,” you shrugged, not caring about adding more fuel to the fire. If Fernando thought he could go running his mouth and you’d be fine or not jab him back, he was in for a surprise.

After wrapping up the interviews, you finally managed to go to your room and take a shower. You were getting ready to leave when Fernando found you again, walking into your room without bothering to knock. You didn’t even look at him, just kept packing your bag.

“Nena…”

“Don’t fucking talk to me,” you shook your head, holding on to the anger instead of allowing yourself to be sad. How he was able to ruin your first ever win in Formula 1, you couldn’t know.

“Nena, please, just-” He tried again, blocking your path to the door.

“No! Fuck you, Fernando!” You took a step back, letting your bag fall to the floor, an accusatory finger pointing to his face, “How dare you do this to me? You know how many times I cheered for you? How many times I wasn’t even on the podium and still, I was happy for you? Huh? I was there for you every step of the way, and you can’t be there for me once? Now you go out there and disregard my win in front of the whole world? What did I ever do to you for you to say that shit about me?” Your voice trembled, but you refused to cry in front of him, “I’d never do that to you, you selfish asshole.”

“I shouldn’t have said that, but I was pole and didn’t even manage to turn it into a podium? I was upset, the strategy fucked me up! I know I should not have said that! You’re right! I was selfish and an asshole-”

“Damn right you were!” You shouted, then picked up your bag, “I don’t want to see you right now.”

You walked past him, leaving at once.

That night, you went to celebrate with the team and without your teammate, you got pretty wasted, dancing and drinking like you had never done before. You refused to let yourself feel down because of Fernando’s big mouth. Dancing the night away, you didn’t stop even when people on the team asked you to, since you were getting out of hand. You were grinding on a stranger, dancing to reggaeton when you felt a hand on your arm.

“Let’s go,” the voice said and you turned, seeing Fernando in front of you. He looked like he was dressed in pajamas and hair all disheveled.

He was asleep when someone on the team called him because they wanted to leave and you were being difficult, so they hoped that your best friend could come pick you up and convince you to leave.

“Excuse me?!” You pulled your arm from him.

“We’re leaving!” Fernando said, pointing to where your team was, seeing it empty, “you’re not going to stay here alone.”

Begrudgingly, you let him lead you outside, one hand in your arm, and the other one on your back. You stumbled in your heels, and Fernando pressed you against the wall, kneeling to remove your shoes and help you walk better outside. Silently, he drove you back to the hotel, while you were with your arms crossed and sulking.

He walked you to your room, helping you change into pajamas, then tucked you into the bed. He stood there for a second, pushing your hair away from your face as you closed your eyes, letting his knuckles run over your cheek softly.

“I wish-” you mumbled, sleepy, “I wish you were happy for me.”

His eyes filled with tears, seeing just how awful he had been to you. A dream was coming true and all he could think of was himself.

“I am, Nena. I’m so happy for you,” He said, but you didn’t answer, already asleep, due to being tired from the race and heavily drunk.

You woke up with a pounding headache and a stomach churning hangover. Still, you showered, drank tea and got ready to go home. When Fernando knocked on the door of your hotel room later that day to apologize, you were already on a flight to Spain. Your birthday would be later that week and your family wanted to throw you a dinner party. 

Your birthday was nice, despite obviously feeling Fernando’s absence.

You were sitting alone on the porch, after the party, when he showed up, late in the night. You didn’t say anything as he walked up to you.

“Peace offering?” Fernando showed you a small ice cream pint “I’m so sorry. I never meant to undermine you. I was a jerk, and you didn’t deserve any of it. I’m so, so sorry.”

You hesitated for a second, but his eyes were so gentle, remorseful, that you couldn’t help but give in. You jumped into his arms so suddenly he almost dropped the ice cream, but he managed to balance it and hug you back with the other arm.

“Happy birthday, Nena,” he whispered, 

“Thank you,” you said, without letting him go, “I’m sorry too. I apologize for implying you felt threatened by me.”

“You should have called me worse things,” he whispered.

You ended up sharing the ice cream once again, talking about life.

Deep down, you hoped things would go back to normal, but a part of you knew that things would never be the same. You two were too much alike for anything to work. Too proud. Too stubborn. Too competitive. When you were good, it was great, but when you were mad, your words were daggers.

The both of you tried to stay normal the next couple of races, but it was strained, forced, especially when you were racing each other. You supposed Fernando was used to you backing down for him, since it was all you had done the year before when you were a rookie. But now you were used to the car, to explore all the possibilities while pushing your tyres to their maximum, while trying insane strategies and making it work. You were a risky driver, just like him, often seen as reckless.

All the while, the media started catching up to it. They went digging to find pictures of you and Fernando when you were kids, in karting and junior competitions, finding out people to interview, old classmates, people you two had met over the years, telling everyone about your close friendship, about you growing up together. Despite you both refusing to comment on your past, the journalists would always find a way to learn more and more about you.

Eventually, it got to your nerves, harsh words were often said whenever questions were thrown at you. You were in a press conference, where Fernando was also there along with a few other drivers.

“It is noticeable that you and Alonso’s driving style is very similar, would you say that he taught you everything you know?”

You didn’t like his tone, you hated whatever he was implying, not because of Fernando, but because it meant to reduce your efforts and abilities.

“No, Alonso has no part in my racing,” your tone was firm against the mic, and you could feel Fernando’s eyes on you, two chairs away on your left.

“But you grew up together?” The man insisted, and you loudly sighed, exhausted from everyone trying to make you talk about it all the time.

“And that doesn’t mean anything!” You said with gritted teeth.

There was a moment of silence right after your outburst, and you didn’t dare to look anywhere besides ahead. When the questions moved on to other drivers, you breathed again. Finally sparing a glance to Fernando, he only looked at you for a fleeting moment, but you knew him so well, you could recognize his teary eyes. Only then it dawned on you how badly you fucked up by insinuating he didn’t mean anything to you.

When the conference ended, you watched as Fernando left really quickly, not even looking in your direction. You ran, trying to find him, going to his room that was right beside yours.

“Fernando-” You walked inside, not even bothering to knock.

“So, our friendship means nothing!” He shook his head, looking disappointed.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Nano!”

“Now I’m Nano again?” He scoffed.

You wanted to cry and plead, to explain that you never meant it this way. You were just tired of people trying to attribute your success to others. You were tired of people comparing the two of you, and saying everything you were came from him, just because he joined the category five years before you. 

“Fernando, please-”

“Leave.” His eyes were cold, almost detached when he pointed to the door.

“Please, Nano…” You whispered, feeling your own eyes welling up with tears. He just shook his head ‘no’ again.

You walked out quietly, not allowing your tears to fall down as you got into your room, inhaling and puffing your chest. You didn’t let up, trying to talk to him again, because it was just a misunderstanding.

Three days later, you tried to find him again, after the race ended, hoping he would have calmed down after a good result, a P2 in that race. You knocked on his door and entered. He was changing clothes as you walked in, he finished dressing a shirt.

“What?” He said, barely looking at you, as he sat down on the sofa, brushing his hair.

“I wanted to talk about what I said during-” your words were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Come in!” Fernando said, and soon, two pretty girls walked in, wearing pretty dresses, one blonde and the other brunette, “pretty girls!”

You recognized they were grid girls, and they looked familiar from this weekend.

“Can we talk?” You said, trying to make him at least send the girls away for a moment.

“I’m listening,” he smirked, and you gulped as the blonde ran a hand up and down his chest. The brunette leaned into his ear with a seductive smile, whispering something.

“Fernando, please…” You asked again and he didn’t even look at you, laughing at something the girls whispered to him, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, before turning in your heels and leaving his room.

Shame and jealousy burned inside you.

He started giving you a silent treatment from then on and three races later, your silent strain came to a head, once again.

You were right behind him at the race, you P3 and him right ahead, but you had enough speed to outpace him soon, maybe a couple more laps and you’d equal him enough to try and overtake, you rode turn 2 smoothly, but as you two kept going, Fernando half a second in front of you, he suddenly hit the brakes, making you hit his rear.

“What the fuck? He brake tested me!” You shouted into the radio, reassessing, you gulped, noticing the damage to your front right tyre, “I’ve got damage!”

You called into the box to change your tyre, which fucked up your entire strategy, and made you go from the P3 to P9 in the grid. You managed to recover a little bit, but still ended P5 and out of the podium.

The rage was burning your chest as you went to the garage absolutely fuming. After all the podium proceedings and celebrations, you waited for Fernando, but he just walked past you without a care in the world. That made you even more pissed, and nobody managed to hold you when you tossed your helmet aside and marched up to him.

“That was really fucked up, Fernando!” You cut his path, making him stop short. Suddenly a bunch of people started gathering around you two, everyone ready for a show.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He shrugged, but you knew him like the palm of your own hand, and you knew that condescending smile he showed you.

“You are a fucking coward if you have to brake test me just to get a podium,” you said, venomous, feeling your dad trying to pull you away and dissipate the commotion. But you weren’t done, “you’re pathetic, Fernando.”

“That’s enough!” Your dad said, pulling you back.

“Or maybe you’re just not good enough, have you thought about that?” Fernando said back, and you jumped on him, trying to get close enough for violence, but your dad held your waist, removing your feet from the ground and pulling you back.

“Man up, Fernando! You fucking asshole!” You shouted as your dad dragged you back into the garage.

Your dad placed you inside your room, grabbing water so you could drink and calm down. When he turned back, a sob broke from your throat, and you covered your mouth with a hand, trying to muffle the sounds of your crying. You shook as you cried again, your dad hugging you close and murmuring to you to let it all out.

You never thought your friendship with Fernando would ever come to this. You weren’t even sure of how the buildup happened that led to this.

“I don’t recognize him anymore, Papá. I don’t recognize my best friend anymore,” you shook your head, your voice breaking in hiccups. You pressed the plant of your hand to your eyes to try and stop the tears falling down, but it was useless.

“It’s ok, bebé. You’re both hotheaded, you need to talk calmly, try and fix it.”

You didn’t try to talk to him. He was wrong when he brake tested you, and if he couldn’t apologize for that, and for the hurtful words he said, then it was better to stay that way.

It only got worse as the season went on, the team tried to force you to give him advantages, but you refused many times, making the competition for the World Drivers Championship be between the two of you.

“We need to talk,” Flavio called you a day after another one of your wins, one that Fernando placed third, one that he didn’t even look at your face when you were up there.

“What happened?” You sat down in front of him by the table.

“You have to follow team orders. When we say you have to switch places with Fernando, you switch. You are deliberately going against orders, what is going on? You and Fernando are now in a cold war, the media caught up, the other drivers caught up too, why-”

“Am I the only one getting lectured?” You crossed your arms, seeing Flavio getting red in the face, angry.

“No. I want answers from both of you, and the way you’re being aggressive with each other, we believe it’s better to talk to you separately,” Flavio sighed, “What is happening? Before it was interesting, a beautiful rivalry, but now you way past that. You’re harming your own races and the team.”

“You talk to Fernando. He thinks because I won’t back down he needs to use every dirty trick in the book to damage my race. If he can’t handle competition like an adult, then he shouldn’t be here.”

Suddenly, the door opened, which made you jump. Fernando walked inside, fuming.

“So that’s what you think of me?” He raised his voice.

“Yes, you have been acting like a fucking kid,” you stood up.

“Me? You told the whole world our friendship means nothing to you! Have you any idea how that made me feel?!” Fernando got closer.

“Do you know how many times people disdain my career to pin it to someone else? To attribute my successes to you, or to Flavio, or even my dad?! You’ve got no idea what it's like being a woman here!”

“Power got to your head! You think you have to walk all over everyone to get what you want!”

“Power?! Literally every man here does that! You do that too, Fernando!”

“Funny you say that since you wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me!” He shouted, pointing a finger to the ground.

“Fernando, stop.” Flavio muttered, coming closer to where you were face to face with Fernando.

You frowned, your anger completely dissipated and what was left was dread. And a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“What?” You hated how your voice was nothing more than a vulnerable whisper.

“Fernando, enough!” Flavio commanded out loud, gesturing with a hand.

“What do you mean, Fernando?!” You asked again, ignoring Flavio trying to pacify the fight.

“I was the one to ask Flavio to sponsor you. I asked him to take a shot and invest in your career!” Fernando’s words were poison and in his eyes you couldn’t see anything left of your former best friend.

“Is it true, Flavio?” You asked but your eyes never left Fernando’s.

“Yes, but if we calm down, we can talk like adults.”

You couldn’t even come up with words, speechless not only from what Fernando told you, but from the tone he used. It was like he had punched you straight in the gut. You couldn’t contain your tears anymore, the lump in your throat threatening to suffocate you. You wanted to jump on him, to push him to the ground and punch his face. You wanted to scream in his face and call him all the dirty names you could think of. You tried to hold onto the anger but your limbs were still, and the pain expanded inside you like wildfire. He had lied to you, in the biggest step of your career he had lied to you. Even when you pressed for answers, he lied straight to your face.

You stared into his eyes one last time. It was the first time he had seen you really cry. He had seen you teary eyed or even emotional before, but it was the first time he had seen you truly cry.

“You’re dead to me, Fernando.”

Was all you managed to rasp, fat tears streaming down your cheeks. Flavio called your name as you walked away, but you never looked back and didn’t stop until you were inside your car, wailing like a baby. You sobbed all the way back to the hotel. You cried as you packed your bags, and tried but failed to contain your tears all the way back home, until you were at your parents’ door, sobbing on their sofa.

They didn’t ask anything until a couple of hours later when you managed to stop crying.

“I hate Fernando, so much, Mamá,” you whispered.

“Honey, don’t say that. Don’t do or say something you might regret later on,” She told you. You shook your head.

“I’m done with him. Done.” You bit back a sob, “he was so cruel, you had to see it.”

“He’s your best friend, dear. I’m sure it will be alright later on.”

“You should’ve seen the hate in his eyes, I don’t know him anymore. That’s not my Nano.”

So, your racing career was a lie. You didn’t make it because of your talent or your efforts. You were in Formula 1 because of Fernando. That was the cruelest thing someone ever said to you, not only because he was mean in the way he said it, but because with a few words he diminished your entire career. And what could you come up with to contest? He was right. You would never be there without him.

You wanted to give up so badly at that moment. You wanted to stay home and never come back, but you knew you couldn’t, your sense of duty was loud and you had to make it work. You had to prove that you deserved your spot in Formula 1, that all of Flavio’s forced investment on you was worth it.

You had to prove to Fernando you were more than a friend he pitied, more than a charity case he took so he could throw it at your face later.

It was one of the hardest things to realize and accept, the fact that he wasn’t your friend anymore. Maybe he never was. Despite all the disagreements the past couple of years, and all the beautiful history you had before the pinnacle of motorsport, maybe he never saw you as a friend. You thought you’d never treat a friend the way he treated you.

So you had to prove Fernando wrong.

NOTE: If you want to be tagged on part 2, please let me know in the comments!

[moonsgemini]

cinnamon girl - rafe cameron

summary: hating rafe cameron was easy to do when you were both teenagers, but after years a part and time spent thinking about one another one thing leads to another. Secret rendezvous between kook prince and kook princess ensue, finding any spare minute to be with each other without the judgey eyes of outer banks.

warnings: 18+, minors dni, fem reader, she/her, p in v, praise kink, semi public sex (a bunch of people are downstairs), fingering, oral f receiving, dirty talk, sneaking around, secret relationship, cussing, alcohol, enemies to lovers kinda

wc: 3.5k

an: another smutty smut. I have had this in my drafts for a bit & I just needed to finish it. It started out as being inspired by cinnamon girl by lana but I like don’t know what happened. also two posts in one day ???? who am I.

masterlist

In high school when y/n read Romeo and Juliet she fell in love with the tragic romance. She was astounded that love could be so intense and passionate. So much so that they were sneaking around behind everyone’s backs and the miscommunication ultimately leading to their deaths.

When she was sixteen she met Rafe Cameron. When her father introduced her to the tall blonde she didn’t think he would eventually be her Romeo. Especially not since he didn’t even smile or show the slightest interest in her. Their fathers had recently worked on a business deal together and had got along so well they wanted their families to get together.

She knew who he was and what he was like. Rumors run rampant on the figure eight. He constantly had snarky comments and remarks to make at her. Whether it be about her outfit, her likes, and especially about the boys she dated. y/n would be talking to Sarah about the boy she just went on a date with and Rafe would butt in with his two cents. He was a year older than her and he always made sure to act like he knew better because he was older.

“Fabian? You do know he like has dated half the cheer and volleyball teams,” Rafe scoffed as he stood in front of her and Sarah who were sat on the pool chairs outside. He had overheard y/n talking about the new guy she was seeing and Rafe couldn’t believe who the guy was. He also couldn’t believe she was dating at all.

Y/n looked at him with a glare, “I don’t remember asking for your input.”

“You could really use it though. Seems like you’re pretty fucking clueless at the fact that you’re a lot better than that asshole,” He rolled his eyes annoyed at the fact she couldn’t see how this escapade will end in heart break. He was only looking out for her so he doesn’t understand why she was so annoyed.

She chuckled bitterly, “Yeah like you care, besides I can find out for myself Rafe. I don’t need you telling me what’s good for me or not.”

Rafe rolled his eye because to him he did know what was good for her and Fabian was not. “Well when he ends up hurting you I’ll be ready to tell you I told you so,” He smirked taking a sip of his beer and walking away.

Sarah scoffed muttering, “Hate him.”

Y/n sighed watching him walk away and talk to her dad, “Couldn’t agree with you more.”

The first few years she knew Rafe she hated him. As much as you could hate him. He had always been extremely handsome, something she definitely noticed, and as he got older he became even hotter. In front of her parents he was charming and they interpreted his cocky demeanor as confidence. Whenever she complained about the Cameron boy being a prick they said they liked that Rafe knew what he wanted and always went for it, something that y/n could learn from him.

After she went away to college these family dinners became much smaller with only the parents and younger siblings. The kids having grown up and gone their own ways. Rafe was always on the mainland taking care of his dad’s business. Sarah had gone off to college so it was practically an empty nest. Occasionally during holiday breaks Sarah and y/n would join them for game night or dinner but Rafe still wasn’t around much.

She couldn’t lie and say he didn’t swim in her thoughts every now and then. Okay maybe more often then she’d like. Especially when he’d post on instagram and his bright smile would infect her mind on the nights she couldn’t fall asleep. She wondered if he ever thought about her but she doubted it since they never liked each other.

Rafe thought about her every day. Whenever he’d see her dad he’d find a way to bring her into conversation. He knew she was coming back soon and he made a note in his calendar to free his schedule on family dinner day because he wanted to see her. He needed to see her. Even if she probably didn’t want to see him because he remembers her hatred for him when they were teenagers. It makes a smirk appear on his lips as he thought about y/n rolling her eyes and sending witty comebacks his way.

-

It was winter break of her junior year of college when she made if back to the outer banks.

Y/n was surprised to see him drinking a glass of scotch with her dad and Ward as she walked downstairs. Her family was hosting dinner that time. Her first thought when she spotted hime was person he was even more handsome. His boyish look almost completely gone now that he was a man. She noticed he had been working out because his chest and shoulders seemed broader. Could have even gotten taller?

“Hey there she is,” Ward said as she made it all the way down the steps.

She smiled politely and joked, “Here I am, hope you didn’t miss me too much.”

Rafe smirked taking a sip from his glass. After Ward asked her more questions about college and the internship she was starting on the mainland that following summer. She could feel Rafe’s eyes on her as she talked to his dad. Seeing him had felt different that time. There was something different in the air.

During dinner they both stole glances at each other. Sometimes when she’d catch him staring at her he wouldn’t look away. Locking his eyes with her smirking and sipping on his second glass of scotch. His long fingers wrapped around the glass grabbed her attention. She watched his adams apple bob as he swallowed. No guys she knew in college drank scotch, because none of them were men like him.

He couldn’t believe how much more beautiful she had gotten in the last three years. She was a woman now and she held herself with so much more confidence than when she was seventeen. Rafe liked that.

“Oh honey give Rafe a tour of the new wine cellar. It is so magnificent our architect is amazing, maybe you’ll like him for a new Cameron employee,” Y/n’s mom said to the young adults who had been eye fucking for the last forty minutes. Y/n’s mom had been feeling her second glass of wine now which led to her being all giddy and generous. It’s always what her mom did. So whenever they went to charity events her mom just needed a glass of wine to sign a check for $10,000.

She was also an avid wine collector so for the last year they had been building a wine cellar under the house. It turned out beautiful. All wood and the lighting was moody. There were racks of wines all around the room and a few in the middle creating ailse. There were also a few big wooden support beams.

“Sure mom. Follow me,” Y/n said nodding her head towards the back. He smirked standing up and following her a few paces behind so he could stare at her back side. She led him out to the side of the house where the entrance was. If her mom knew what she ultimately helped happen she’d kill the both of them. Mostly for committing such a sin next to her most prized possessions.

Ten minutes into the tour Rafe had y/n pinned against one of those wooden beams. Her legs wrapped around his waist with her hands in his hair tugging whenever he’d hit that spot she could never reach on her own. No college guy she had been with was ever able to hit that spot either. Their breaths mixed together as their faces were close together, y/n’s skirt bunched around her waist. One of his hands was under her shirt tweaking her nipple.

His dick inside of her smoothly sliding in and out as he fucked her. Rafe knew he would never forget this moment. Never forget just how wet she had been, all the noises she was making sounding heavenly.

The first time was erotic. Years of built up sexual tension was finally getting released and it felt so good. His hands, his lips, his body felt better than she could ever have imagined.

When they were done Rafe kissed her, lips slotting naturally with her like they always belonged there. She was worried it was a one time thing but he wasn’t acting like it. That bubble of anxiety in her chest popping as he continued to be sweet to her. He had slowly pulled out and set her down gently. Tugging her skirt back down and helping her step into her panties he had tugged off in a frenzy. He fixed himself as she fixed her hair and makeup.

“That’s not the last time that’s gonna happen,” He said breaking the silence, “I like you too much to let you go.”

-

Since the first night they hooked up they have been sneaking around behind their families backs seeing each other. Rafe flew and road tripped to her apartment more times that winter and spring than he can count. When she came back for the summer he was practically living at her house. He’d sneak in at night like they were teenagers and he’d sleep over or stay up talking with her until she fell asleep then he’d sneak out. Or sometimes (a lot of times) they’d be doing something else that involved rafe’s mouth on her.

When y/n got her internship he’d meet her for lunch. They’d hangout in secluded areas on the beach and whenever they wanted to have a nice date night they’d stay a few cities over for the weekend to be alone and be a couple in public. For her birthday Rafe took her to the Amalfi coast for a few days where they spent most of the time on a boat, in a pool, or in bed having amazing sex. Y/n told her parents she was going to the lake for the weekend where she’d barely have service. Somehow they believed it.

They kept it a secret not because their families would be upset. It’s the opposite actually, they’d be too excited. Then there would be all this pressure on their relationship. The mom’s and Ward would be urging Rafe to propose because their families merging would make them look incredibly good and powerful in the developing industry. They’d want a huge wedding with a bunch of people they don’t know. There’d start to be talk about grand babies. All of figure eight would be talking about the kook prince and princess dating and on their way to live off their trusts. It would just be too much.

It was the last dinner party of the summer and Y/n was giddy. She hadn’t seen Rafe in two weeks because he had gone away on a business trip with his dad and then she had gone on to see her grandparents in New York. It was the most time they had spent a part in the last four months.

Tonight would be the last night they see each other for another couple weeks while y/n moves into her senior year apartment and settles into school. Rafe knew how important school was to her so he wanted to give her space to settle which she was grateful for because pre law was not easy. It would also be too suspicious if he randomly showed up to help while her parents are there.

This was a big dinner party so it was perfect. Y/n’s parents were hosting so it was all perfect. Every big family on Figure Eight, even the ones who only summer there, was at her house. The house was filled with many distractions since her mother also loved collecting art. No one would see them sneak upstairs to her room, especially with all the wine that’s being consumed.

Rafe had been dreaming about touching her since he last saw her. Oh and when he saw her he didn’t even waste a moment. As soon as he saw an opportunity to drag her upstairs to her bedroom he did. It was when appetizers were brought out and everyone had gathered outside. Y/n smirked the whole time knowing he wanted her as bad as she wanted him. Her short dress definitely did the job it was supposed to when she spotted his hard on when he first grabbed her.

His eagerness showing when he practically slammed her against the inside of the bedroom door. His lips on hers with fervor. They moved expertly against each other. Immediately finding their rhythm, no matter how many times they have each other it’s never enough.

His hands sliding down her waist and slowly going under her sundress. That’s when he feels nothing. She wasn’t wearing any panties. He instantly got harder and groaned into her mouth.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” He mumbled as he began trailing kisses down her neck.

Her hands tugged at his hair, “I missed you Rafey,” she whined not even feeling the slightest bit embarrassed about her eagerness. She had missed him so much.

He began walking her towards the bed. His lips still latching onto any exposed skin on her chest. They kicked their shoes off in the process, Rafe undid a few more buttons of his shirt. His tanned broad chest making her breathing uneven. When her knees hit the end of the bed she sat back crawling backwards towards the pillows. He followed her his knees spreading her legs.

“I missed you baby,” He gently cupped her face and stroked her cheek softly, “I can’t wait to make you cum.”

The soft gesture with the dirty words made her cheeks feel hot. That devilish smirk appearing on Rafe’s face like he knew that would happen. And that’s because he did know. Rafe knew her body and he knows just what to do to make her squirm. He looked too hot for her to even care how dirty he sounded. Sometimes she’d shy away but other times it made her putty in his hands. Y/n reached forward kissing him not so gently. They’d have time for the lovey dovey stuff later.

He began kissing down her body. Her chin then her neck, paying attention to that spot that made her hips jerk up for relief. His hand were gliding up her legs pushing her dress up around her waist in the process.

Rafe kissed her shoulders as he pushed her straps down in a teasing manor. He kissed her collarbones then her chest. Finally moving to her stomach and her pelvic bone. Oh had he missed this. His hands moved to her knees spreading her legs wider.

Y/n’s hands were in his hair already tugging. Giving an even harder tug when he reach forward giving her a teasing lick. She had to cover her mouth with one hand to not be loud.

Rafe wanted to tease her but he just couldn’t resist. He dove right in. His tongue finding her clit immediately, moving his tongue in circles. He alternated between that and licking down her slit. Tongue teasing her entrance. It was all so euphoric.

Her back arched off her bed. Y/n tried her best to keep quiet but a few moans slipped out. She hoped the chatter and music playing downstairs was enough to cover her noises. Rafe hummed against her core making the feeling even more intense.

“Oh god Rafey,” She sighed dreamily, “I missed your mouth. Know just what to do.”

He lives for the praise. It boosted his ego and encouraged him to do better and outdo himself. Hearing her breathy wins and moans muffled by her own hand were making him impossibly hard.

As he sucked and licked her clit he reached around and abruptly slipped a finger into her wet center. Her thighs practically suffocating him as he moved in and out of her touching that perfect spot inside of her. He always made her cum and he always did it fast. Before she met Rafe she had only ever finished with her own hand or vibrator.

“I’m gonna cum!” She whisper shouted.

Rafe moaned, “Cum for me baby.”

It felt like electricity was going through her body as she came. His movements relentless until he knew she was satisfied. He began to slow down as she came down, leaving her with one final lick. He kissed the inside of her thighs softly before crawling up to her again. She pulled him forward needing his lips on hers. She moaned at her taste on his tongue.

“I need to be inside you,” Rafe groaned as he felt one of her hands reach down and palm him through his pants.

“Please fuck me,” She batted her eyelashes at him knowing it always got her what she wanted.

He groaned again before sitting back on his feet so he can unbutton the rest of his shirt. Y/n sat up pulling her dress all the way off. Rafe made quick work of his pants pulling them down his legs.

His member slapped against his stomach, her mouth watering at the sight. Rafe was created with care, everything about him was perfect to her. He grabbed his length pumping it a few times before he rubbed his tip through her folds. Spreading her wetness around, his eyes rolled back at the feeling.

“Oh please please put it in,” She whined, “I need you so bad Rafey.”

“Baby your wish is my command,” He smirked and thrusted into her slowly pushing in inch by inch.

“Yes yes yes yes,” She chanted in pure bliss. Y/n didn’t care how desperate she sounded.

Rafe sighed as he began moving slowly. She was so tight and warm, even better than he remembered. He knew he wasn’t going to last long but he would make sure she came again before he did at all. He hit that spot inside of her that made her eye’s roll back and toes curl.

“Taking me so good my love,” Rafe encouraged as he picked up speed.

He grabbed one of her boobs and brushed his thumb over her hardened nipple. He leaned down and placed the other one in his mouth sucking and licking gently. All of the stimulation had her body feeling like it was on fire. He released it with a pop and went back to capture her lips in his. Y/n’a hands gripped his hair and clawed his back

“I’m gonna cum babe,” She moaned, “Yes right there, oh oh god.”

“Yeah baby cum for me,” He sighed, “Fuck I’m gonna cum too.”

Her eyes rolled back at his words, “Please cum in me, fill me up please please,” she blubbered feeling overwhelmed by the orgasm that was about to take over her body. The sounds of his deck sliding in and out of her wet pussy made him reach the edge. Everything about her was so sexy from the noises she made to the way she looked sprawled out below him.

Her words made him pick up his pace pounding into her. He felt her clench around him knowing she was coming. She moaned and scratched his back as she came. Biting her lip to not let anymore loud noises slip out of her. He came inside of her with a groan. Rafe continued to pump in and out of her slowing down as he came down from his high.

He swore he could cum again just looking at her all fucked out. Her hair all over the place, lipstick smudged and probably all over his face.

After a few minutes of catching their breaths Rafe pulled out gently. A whine leaving her lips at the empty feeling. Rafe got up going to her bathroom to get a towel to clean her up. When he came back he dabbed her center cleaning up.

“I missed you so much Rafe,” Y/n said breaking the silence.

He leaned forward kissing her knee, “I missed you more my love.”

“You think anyone heard?”

He shrugged, “Don’t think so. If they did then oops.”

She laughed, “Don’t say that Rafe, then we will get caught.”

He smirked as he laid next to her again opening his arms as an invitation that she gladly took. Resting her head on his chest and he leg wrapped around his waist. One of his hands stroking her hair and the other rubbing up and down her body slowly feeling all her exposed skin.

“Lets lay a few minutes then get back to hearing my dad talk about business for hours,” Y/n said savoring the feeling of laying with him.

“I love you,” He kissed the crown of her head a few times.

She smiled, “I love you. Sneak over tonight?” She asked looking up at him hopefully.

“Read my mind,” He smirked.

[latetaektalk]

love to hate you | jjk [viii]

“when obnoxiously rich and spoiled frat boy jeon jungkook comes up to you one day and asks you to fake date him for money, you definitely should have said no. because before you knew it, you were going on insta dates with him and having lunch with his equally obnoxiously rich and spoiled friends.”

— genre: sexual themes, angst, fluff, fratboy! AU, fake dating! AU, college! AU, rich kid! AU, enemies to lovers! AU

— pairing: jungkook x female reader

— word count: 18.351

— warnings: swearing/cursing, communication skills nowhere to be found, chronic overthinking, emotional rollercoaster, confusingly set during christmas <3

— a/n: and just like that we've crossed 100k !! its here, the big one. by far one of my favourite chapters that ive written so far!! hope you guys enjoy it!! praying yall wont hate me for this one haha once again, this is inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before by Jenny Han!

You didn’t miss the look Chaeyoung and Jisoo exchanged, or the way Hoseok longingly looked after Jimin as he quickly walked away to get everyone some food after you sat down, or how Jimin muttered something about how someone clearly needed something to eat. The comment didn’t bother you because he was right and you could admit as much.

The mall had never been your favourite place to go, and even less so today. The Christmas decoration put up around you seemed overly tacky and in bad taste, and you could have ripped off your ears, sick of listening to the same three Christmas songs over and over again. You closed your eyes that ached from the bright colourful lights, and scrunched your nose when your arm bumped into one of your shopping bags. Your patience hung by a string, the fibers breaking with every passing second. Everything hurt, from your head to your arms and your feet.

Nothing was right, and there seemed to be no end to it.

“Fries?” 

Jimin specifially offered them to you, placing two medium plates of golden fries in the middle of the table. You took him up on it, taking two and throwing them into your mouth. The fries were bland and not salty enough but you took three more pieces, shoving your face full. As if the grease and carbs would fix anything. 

“Do you wanna try the thrift store that Ji suggested?” Chaeyoung asked, choosing her words carefully, and you cringed, shaking your head. 

“No.”

The silence continued, and you didn’t miss the looks your friends exchanged. There was clearly a conversation going on over your head, but you didn’t care, reaching for one fry after the other.

“Y/N, it’s gonna be fine,” Jimin said in the end, putting his arm around your shoulder. Bold, but when was he not. “Don’t be so down. That one dress- the beige one looked great on you!”

“Yeah, but also, they don’t care about what you wear,” Jisoo continued, not allowing you to even begin to disagree.

“And you still have time to find the perfect thing, right? If you do decide that the dress isn’t up to standard. Didn’t you get some stuff online too?” Hoseok asked, trying to get you to look at him, but you just closed your eyes and pulled your lips into a line.

They didn’t get it. But telling them that would be of no use, just like how their words didn’t encourage you the slightest bit. 

“I promise you Kook’s parents are really the sweetest people I’ve-”

“Yeah, maybe, I don’t know,” you mumbled, cutting off Jimin. You rubbed your eyes until you saw black spots. With a sigh, you leaned back. “I’ll figure it out, I think.”

There was no confidence in your words. To you, it seemed like your life was about to end, all over a stupid outfit you couldn’t put together. The thought almost made you laugh and cry at the same time. This was as ridiculous as it could get. 

“What did Kook say?” Chaeyoung asked, and you frowned.

“About what?”

She blinked at you, her brows creasing together. “Well, have you talked to Kook about any of this? How you’re worried about meeting his parents?”

You pressed your mouth into a line, and you didn’t even know where to begin. It seemed futile to you to explain that you possibly couldn’t tell Jungkook about all of the thoughts suffocating your mind. You would look stupid, like an absolute fool. You would look like you cared, and really, you didn’t. It would weird him out—how much you stressed about it, how much it was on your mind. But then again, really, actually, you didn’t care at all. You just were… especially irritable these days. Hormones were raging—your period, of course, greeting you just a day prior.

“No,” you exhaled, shaking your head. You didn’t know what exactly you were denying—you being stressed about meeting his parents, or you not talking about it to him. Probably both. “He’s busy with his stuff. He’s got a paper to finish- it’s fine.”

And even though you closed your eyes, you knew your friends were looking at each other. There was a carefulness with which they spoke to you, and you did feel bad. Just nothing seemed to lift your spirits.

“I’m sorry. I haven’t been in… a good mood these days,” you told them, getting more annoyed at yourself for being the way you were. You hid your face in your hands. “I don’t know what’s up with me.”

“It’s fine,” Jimin assured you. “We know you’re stressed.”

Jisoo placed an arm around you, leaning her shoulder against yours. She opened her mouth before closing again, ultimately she decided to speak. 

“What if… you don’t go?” 

“Ji,” Jimin whispered, looking at her as if she had just suggested something criminal.

“I’m just saying— it’s stressing her out so much, maybe she shouldn’t go.” Jisoo shrugged, believing her suggestion to be rather harmless. “She can meet his parents another time, right?”

You looked at her. She grimaced, apologetic, about to backpedal, taking your expression as offence. But you waved her off. Her suggestion was meant well, you knew that. It would also be more than a lie to say you hadn’t thought about it too. Of course, you had. But you couldn’t do it. Not when the image of Narae popped into your mind every time you did consider it. 

“Okay, fine,” Jisoo sighed, relenting. “But I’m just saying he’ll understand if you don’t want to go. It’s not like you guys are getting married.”

Chaeyoung mumbled something to her, but you couldn’t hear it. If you had to guess she told her to lay it off, which you were admittedly thankful for.

“I don’t even have gifts,” you groaned, remembering that your outfit wasn’t the only issue plagueing your mind. “Do I bring an actual gifts? Or just wine? Flowers? Something more personal? I don’t fucking know.”

“Do you have to bring them anything?” Hoseok asked, frowning. “I mean yeah, I guess it’s Christmas and you’re meeting them for the first time, but I don’t know, I’m not sure if you have to bring them anything.”

“I don’t think you do. They’re just happy to meet you, I promise,” Jimin said, squeezing your shoulder, but somehow, his answer annoyed you even more. Because what if he was wrong? And they use it as a reason as to why they didn’t like you because you showed up empty handed? Poor and rude? You wouldn’t even take a single step in their home. And even if Jimin was right, that they were just happy to meet you—it seemed even worse. Because all you had to show for yourself to Jungkook’s parents then would be…. yourself. 

And what if that wasn’t enough?

You groaned, leaning back again. Everything was making your situation only worse, giving you an even bigger headache, feeding the heavy pit in your stomach. And as you spiraled, you didn’t notice the rather obvious text Chaeyoung send, or the even more obvious way Jimin’s phone lit up on the table to display it, just for him to quickly grab it and start typing. Jisoo leaned over to look, and Chaeyoung quickly mumbled something into Hoseok’s ear. You wouldn’t even notice the way Chaeyoung jumped when you spoke suddenly again,

“Let’s just finish eating and go home. I wanna go home.” 

No one protested.

By the end, the fries were gone and the grease had eaten through the recycled brown paper plates, and your mood wasn’t much better, still the same level of annoyance always buzzing in the back of your mind. Grabbing the bags from the various shops you had walked in and out of with your friends today, you made your way out of the mall. Stepping outside, you hugged yourself, the wind harsher than the past few days. 

“What way is your car again?” you asked, teeth gritting. Your question was aimed at Chaeyoung, but you didn’t have the nerve to look at her. With the tip of your boot, you scraped against the concret, enjoying the way it rolled back and forth. You lifted your head when no one would answer, confused by the silence.

“Oh, uh,” Chaeyoung began, glancing at Jimin who was typing away on his phone. “Give us… a minute.”

She said it as if it was a question, gesturing for you to wait. You looked over to Jisoo and Hoseok for some sort of explanation, but they both kept their mouths shut.

“Where’s your girlfriend’s car?”

Hoseok blushed, and you knew he still wasn’t used to the development of his and Chaeyoung’s relationship. It was cute, and it did make you smile a little.

“Just tell me.” 

You tried nice. Nice didn’t work.

“I-I don’t know.” 

You sighed, your hands on your hips, shopping bags knocking on your legs. The cold wavered your voice.

“Ji?”

But rather than even say anything, or make an attempt to stall you, she waved you off, flicking her wrist back and forth. At least, Hoseok and Chaeyoung tried to dismiss you subtly.

“Oh my God, what are you guys looking at? Can we just go home, I’m really cold here and I just wanna-”

“Ah, yes, he’s here!” Jimin exclaimed before slapping his hand over his mouth, eyes wide. “Oops.”

You stopped, not needing a second to understand. Jisoo punched his arm. 

“You texted Jeon?”

If you were upset and annoyed before, you were even more so now. You leaned forward, as if the reality weighed down on you and physically pushed you. Your eyes darted back and forth between your friends before ultimately landing on Jimin, who was shrinking in on himself.

“Are you guys for real?” you hissed, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. You could have ripped out your hair. “But why?”

Everyone looked to Chaeyoung. “We- we think it’d be good if you talk to him. You’re clearly stressed about meeting his parents, so why not talk about it?”

She added on a smile, and you closed your eyes, groaning. 

“Guys, I’m fine.” You dug your hands through your hair, looking over your shoulder, relieved to see that he was nowhere. “Where is he? Is he here already? Tell him to go home. He has a paper to-”

An arm wrapped around your shoulder, and you didn’t need to look to know who it was.

“Go home.”

“Damn, hi, it’s nice to see you too, cabbage,” Jungkook laughed, grinning at you even as you frowned at him. He pinched your nose, and you didn’t even have it in you to swat his hand aside, closing your eyes instead. 

“You guys weren’t kidding. She’s in a bad mood.”

Your frown deepened, mouth setting into a thin line. Jungkook squeezed your shoulder, quietly apologising to you for his comment, but his smile remained on his lips. 

“Alright, I think—” Chaeyoung hooked her arm into Hoseok’s. “—it’s time to go.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, I’ll take her home,” Jungkook said, nodding to confirm his own words. “Get home safe.”

“Great, text us when you get home,” Jisoo said, waving at you. “We love you, Y/N! And oh, nice scarf!”

Jungkook laughed, thanking her.

“Yeah, good luck, Kook! Also love ya, Y/N!” Jimin laughed before taking off, sprinting ahead, scared you might just throw one of your bags after him. (Which you were strongly considering) The others waved you goodbye, and even though you were more than ticked off, you did the same, mumbling a goodbye their way. God knows they had put up with your attitude with enough grace today already. You sighed once they left your sight, shrugging off Jungkook.

You looked at him and your gaze softened, if only a little. Even more so when you saw it, wrapped around his neck so prettily. There was something very messy about him today—his hair not done in its usual way, hanging into his eyes, getting longer each time you saw him, the collar of his coat not folded down properly. If you had to guess, he had walked out the moment he got the text from Jimin. But he had thought of your scarf, looped it around his neck carefully. Looking at him now, out in the cold, you were glad you had invested the time into learning how to knit. The scarf suited him, the red matching him well. You were almost tempted to knit another one, one in every colour.

“You’re wearing the scarf.”

“Of course,” he returned, smiling at you, and you wondered if his cheeks hurt, red from the cold. 

The thought embarrassed you. You looked down, returning to rolling the tip of your boot on the conrete, back and forth, back and forth.

“Go home.”

“Okay, yeah, let’s go home together.”

He reached to take the bags from you, but you pulled away, lifting your head. “No, Jeon, go home. I’m fine.”

Jungkook shoved his hands into his pockets, shaking his head. This wasn’t going to be easy, he realised. “And how will you get home?”

His question made you frown, as if that was the issue at hand right now. You almost scoffed.

“I’ll walk-”

“Right, because walking in the cold is such a good idea, hm?

“Fine, I’ll take the bus.”

“Do you even know where the next bus station is?” 

“I can look it up.”

“Or you can just, you know,“ he leaned towards you, and you couldn’t back off, “not be so stubborn and let me just give you a ride home.”

You pursed your lips, shaking your head. Why was he being oh so frustrating? Why couldn’t he make this easy for you? Why wasn’t he at all discouraged by your behaviour? It didn’t make any sense to you. He should be annoyed with you and your attitude, infuriated because you were being difficult for no real reason. And yet, he smiled and laughed at you, showed you patience. It was strange to you, unexpected.

“I never asked you to pick me up.” 

It was like you were a goddamn teenager, fighting with her parents, trying your very best to tick them off. It was like you wanted him to be mad at you, and in some ways, in some real ways, maybe you did. You felt sorry for your friends about your attitude, but not with Jungkook somehow. For some reason, you couldn’t extend the same empathy to him. At least not in this moment.

He didn’t say anything, hesitated, his brows creasing together. His eyes darted to the ground before ultimately finding you again, tongue in his cheek, nodding. For a moment, you thought you won, did it. 

“Yeah, you didn’t,” Jungkook said, taking one two three steps in your direction, slowly prying the shopping bags from you. “But I’m still here to pick you up.”

And when he met you with a smile, you knew there wasn’t anything you could do. You let your head hang, as tears shot into your eyes. It had never happened before, you were never one quick to cry, but right now you felt like it. You blinked them away, not allowing Jungkook to know.

He took your silence as a sign of defeat, which it was. Very much so. He had won, and you had to admit that you were actually relieved. That he had proven you wrong, that he hadn’t just left after you had repeatedly insisted he should, or gotten annoyed and sick with you. 

Jungkook shifted all of the shopping bags into one hand, using his free one to grab yours. Like he would, of course he would, he placed a kiss on the back of your hand before putting your hands into his coat pocket to keep warm, together. You could have begun crying again.

“Be a good girlfriend, alright?” he told you, leading you to his car, and you scoffed, hoping your voice didn’t sound as unstable and shaky as you felt.

“Be a good girlfriend?” you repeated, raising a brow. Jungkook was quick to see his mistake and correct himself,

“I mean, let me be a good boyfriend to my girlfriend and pick her up after a—” He hesitated, squinting as if he was searching for the right word. “—fun, right?”

There was something inherently cheeky and smug about Jungkook. But you couldn’t quite take offence to any of it, nodding, even if you knew that today wasn’t the funnest day. (And you were to blame.)

“Fun day at the mall with her friends.”

You pressed your lips together. “But what about your paper?”

He paused and looked at you before shaking his head and laughing. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m almost done. I’ll finish it at your place.”

His hand squeezed yours, and you hated how warm he made you feel. How the warmth spread from your chest to the the tips of your ears and feet. How even if you tried, he remained patient with you. You hated it because it made it so much harder, for you not to fall for him again and again. You hated it because you almost believed him that you could be one of those stupidly in love couples that held hands in their pockets and made each other scarfs.

Jungkook opened the car door for you, and you climbed inside, thankful for the few seconds you had to yourself as he loaded your shopping bag into the trunk. Without a word, he gave you his phone, and by now, you knew the drill. 

You unlocked his phone in second before quickly typing in your current location into Google maps. Your address popped up at the top, bookmarked, when you tapped to enter the destination. Handing him his phone back, you wondered what Jungkook’s password meant, 09052020. It seemed so oddly specific, but you didn’t bother asking.

“You should show me what you got.”

The water remained in your mouth a second longer before you swallowed it, slowly screwing the top back on the bottle, eyes set on Jungkook. You shook your head and leaned against your kitchen counter. He was just a few steps away from you, sitting on your couch, taking up all the space, arms spread left and right. 

“Yeah, I don’t think so.”

He gave you a look, as if to say oh please! His head rolled back for a second.

“I think you should.”

You didn’t respond, pulling your phone out of your pocket instead. Deeming your silence as enough of an answer, you scrolled through your phone, opening the group chat between your friends and you, your feet crossing at your ankle. But before you could even read one text-

“But isn’t that why you were in a bad mood?”

It seemed brave of Jungkook to address it so openly. Or maybe just incredibly honest. You couldn’t do it. He didn’t seem afraid at all that you might just dip back into your bad mood at the mention of it and come out bats swinging. It was admirable in some ways. You didn’t rememeber him to be this confrontative a few months ago when you started this, him and you. He seemed to have found a confidence with you now, convinced he knew the ins and outs of you. Maybe he did. He probably did, in some ways. You couldn’t say if you liked it all that much.

You snorted, an attempt to make light of the situation. “Yeah, so why bring it up again?”

Jungkook reached his hands out to you, a gesture for you to come his way. You thought about it for a moment before abandoning both your phone and the water bottle on the kitchen counter and moving over. He scooted to the edge of your couch to allow you to step between his legs. His hands held yours, thumbs brushing the inner part of your wrist, back and forth.

“My parents don’t care,” he told you, staring up at you with his big eyes, squeezing your hands as he spoke, physically stressing his words. “They really don’t care, I promise you. They’re just excited to meet you. And so am I, excited.”

He paused, allowing his words to sink in with you and take effect. 

“But I know you care and you’re stressed about it,” Jungkook mumbled, and you couldn’t look at him, eyes finding the floor instead, right where your carpet curled up because sometimes your couch would dig into it and flip it up. It was so very embarrassing that he knew how much you cared. It felt like you were ripping out your heart and letting him inspect it. You wanted to correct him, set the record straight that really, you didn’t care at all whatsoever! but it felt like a cheap attempt, even more humiliating.

“So why don’t you show me?” he asked, shaking your hands to get you to look at him. You didn’t want to but did anyway. His gaze was soft, just like his smile, and his hair fell into his eyes. You brushed it away. It made his smile widen, so much so he brought your hand to his lips and kissed it.

It was sealed for you then.

“Alright, fine,” you sighed, defeated, moving away from him to dig through your shopping bags. “Look away.”

“What? Why?”

“What do you mean?” you frowned. “I’m changing.”

Jungkook’s features morphed from a frown to a smile in a second before he ultimately began laughing. “Are you really gonna be too embarrassed to change in front of me?” He gave you a moment to deny it. “I’ve seen and touched-”

“Oh my God, just turn around,” you hissed, and for some reason, your cheeks were as hot as the sun. “Either that, or I won’t try on anything.”

He exhaled the most dramatic sigh he could, making a point to show you that he even pressed his hands to his eyes. Just for that, you wanted to kick him. But you should have known that Jungkook wasn’t quite done, needing to squeeze in one more comment, purely to annoy you and nothing more. There wasn’t anything serious about it at all, no deeper meaning.

“Are you gonna be like this when we’re married with kids?”

You froze, arms up and your face mushed together by your sweater and half of your body exposed to the naked air with only your bra to show for. He wasn’t serious, you knew. There was lightness and an obvious teasing embedded with his words. You doubted Jungkook even expected a response from you, probably just enjoyed knowing he made you flustered even if he couldn’t see it. And yet, your heart began pounding and your hands sweating and your cheeks burning and your mind reeling for any possible retort you could offer. Before you could stutter something, he spoke again,

“Sorry.”

The smile was evident in his voice, and when you finally peeled off your sweater, you turned out to be right. You shook your head, throwing your sweater at him before you could think better of it. It hit him in the face.

“Ow, cabbage! That’s not fair, I have my eyes-” 

“I’m so close to kicking you out, you know?” you mumbled, keeping your voice quiet as if raising it by any means was dangerous. You pulled off your pants and your stockings you had layered underneath for some extra warmth.

“I said I’m sorry, cabbage.” 

But Jungkook sounded far from sincere. You didn’t bother responding, grabbing one of the shopping bags and slipping on the sweater you had thrifted. It was off the shoulders and this warm midnight blue colour, rich and beautiful and cozy. You moved to your old dresser and pulled out the black maxi skirt you had thought to combine it with. The outfit was simple, but with the right accesoires (ones you would still have to buy which the thought of it already gave you a headache), it could work. At least, it could in theory because when you looked at yourself in your full body mirror (which you had thrifted when you had first moved in), you frowned.

“Can I look?”

You gave a grunt in response, still looking at your reflection as if you had put together the most hideous outfit possible. It wasn’t much of a yes or no, so for a few seconds Jungkook hesitated, but he slowly peeled his eyes open.

“Oh, cabbage! You look so amazing-”

“No.”

It was as simple as that for you, shaking your head.

“What? But you look-”

“I don’t like it,” you said, already moving to take off the skirt. “Close your eyes.”

You expected some sort of protest from Jungkook, but he actually did as you said. Just as quick as you had decided that the outfit wouldn’t work, you peeled it off of you. You rummaged through your next shopping bags, looking at the pieces you had gotten—a cream knit sweater and white maxi skirt. But all of a sudden, you hated it. You clearly remembered loving the clothes in the store, giving the outfit a couple spins and scrutiniscing it from head to toe until it was deemed worthy of your money. But right now as you looked at it, you felt quite the opposite.

With a sigh, you pulled the last shopping bag towards you. It had the dress your friends had mentioned you should wear. This time, you didn’t inspect it any further, not having the nerve for it. So you just bunched up the fabric and slipped it on. But you didn’t tell Jungkook you were finished changing. Instead you turned and looked at yourself in the mirror first.

Jisoo had found it for you—a maxi slip dress. It was in a beautiful and rich wine red colour, oozing warmth, and soft to the touch. The satin flowed down your body, hugging your curves, and reflecting your dim living room lights like water. Lace was stitched along the neckline, which otherwise probably would have been a little too low given the occasion. The straps securing the dress were tied up into small ribbons around your shoulders, giving it a more dainty and playful look. The slit on the left side reached up until your knee, allowing the fabric to move along with your body in harmony. It was a beautiful dress, made for any occasion with the correct accessoires and styling. 

You were objectively and undeniably beautiful in it. 

And yet, you stared at yourself as if it wasn’t, brows knitted together and lips pursed in a pout, eyes wandering up and down. It wasn’t insecurity—you felt great and comfortable in the dress. But something about it just wasn’t right. You tried imaging yourself all dolled up in it, hair and makeup done to your liking, but the frown remained. It wasn’t perfect enough.

You shook your head, moving to take it off. When you turned on your heel, you looked straight at Jungkook, and Jungkook looked straight at you. His eyes were big and wide and set on you, his mouth agape and curling up into a smile. You gasped, both in surprise and upset.

“W-why are you looking?” you hissed, feeling the heat crawl up your neck, and you threw your arms around yourself.

“I’m sorry. You- you just took so long, cabbage. And so I looked and…” Jungkook finished his sentence with a simple shrug and smile. You frowned at his answer, shaking your head.

“Close your eyes,” you spat through gritted teeth, turning around to change out of the dress. “I’m changing-”

“What? Why?” Jungkook sounded genuinely confused, jumping up from his seat and moving your way, shaking his head. “You look amazing! Please don’t change. I love this dress on you!”

He stopped short in front of you, turning you around and taking your hands into his. 

“This dress suits you so well,” he whispered as if it was some sort of secret. You looked to the mirror behind you, inspected yourself, eyes shooting up and down. Jungkook stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, his fingers interlacing in front of the soft of your belly. He pushed you to lean fully against him, his eyes scanning every inch of you.

“You’re so pretty. So very pretty.” 

His words tasted like Christmas chocolate, were thick with honey and sugar, stuck to your teeth. They were bad. Horrible. For you and your heart. Because they sounded so very believable. 

“You look incredible.”

He finished with a kiss to the back of your head, and you didn’t know where to look. You placed your hands on his, tentatively, and he was quick to take them into his, scoop them up and hold them tight. He had to know, you thought to yourself, how hard your heart was beating.

“Don’t you like it?”

You met his gaze in the mirror, mouth settled into a line. 

“I like the dress,” you said, tilting your head. 

“But?”

“I don’t like it for…”

“Meeting my parents?” Jungkook supplied when you wouldn’t finish your sentence, and you didn’t answer, averting your gaze instead. “What do you not like about it?”

You closed your eyes, feeling so very silly. Because you couldn’t say. You didn’t know. There shouldn’t be anything to dislike about the dress, nothing about it was wrong—you loved every little detail, and even more how you felt in it.

“What do you think?” 

“I don’t think my opinion really matters here,” Jungkook laughed, and you peeled your eyes open, a smile tugging on the corners of your lips. He was annoying. Just couldn’t provide you with a simple answer when he even has already voiced his thoughts. “But I think you look really pretty in this dress.”

You scrunched your nose. “How pretty?”

“So pretty I wouldn’t mind going blind now.”

You smiled, no, grinned. He was so stupid.

“So pretty I can’t believe you don’t like it.” 

You tilted your head to the side.

“So pretty I don’t want you to ever take it off again.” 

He pressed kisses to your neck and shoulder, nose burying into your hair, words mumbled into your skin, and hands beginning to wander further south, scrunching the fabric. You let him.

”So pretty I want to take a picture of you and print it out and hang it up above my bed and also keep another one in my wallet and change my background picture to-”

“O-okay, enough!” you said, pushing him away from you because your limbs were beginning to tingle and burn, and his touch was sending shocks through your entire body. Even more so, his hands were beginning to go to places he shouldn’t, not right now at least. You made sure to keep him at an arm’s length, palm pressing into his chest, in fear he’d simply close the distance if you didn’t physically stop him.

“You’re so ridiculous, Jeon,” you said, shaking your head, laughing a little. “You can never be serious, can you?”

“But I am! I’m very serious! Looking at you makes me wanna-”

You were quick to shake your head, hands pressing to your ears because no no no, you didn’t want to know! All while you were smiling, grinning almost. Without realising it, Jungkook had done the impossible—lifted your mood, made you laugh when you felt irritated and annoyed by everything before. 

“Fine, I won’t tell you!” Jungkook sighed, dramatically rolling his eyes. You looked at him, lowering your hands, your smile cemented on your lips.

“You’re so stupid, Jeon,” you mumbled, scrunching your nose, and he gasped in faux upset.

“That’s so mean, cabbage!”

“Oh, just shut up.”

Jungkook slung his arms around your middle, doing so before you could even think to stop him. His chin dropped to your shoulder, hands scopping up yours again and eyes meeting in the mirror.

“So, what do we think?”

You raised a brow. “Now, it’s we? I thought your thoughts didn’t matter-”

He sighed, closing his eyes for a second. “Fine, what do you think?”

And you inspected yourself again, gaze wandering up and down. You didn’t know what it was, but the dress seemed different now. It was still the same fabric, same cut, nothing had changed, but you remembered why you had bought the dress, why you had taken Jisoo up on her offer to try it on when she had shown it to you. Because it was beautiful, even more so with you in it.

“Is this the dress?” Jungkook whispered into your ear, and you knew he was hoping for a yes. 

You tilted your head to the side, heart beating faster when you opened your mouth. Because yes, it was. The dress, choosing it, it was another step closer to meeting Jungkook’s parents, another hurdle out of the way. Your eyes met his in the mirror, his face so close to yours. The two of you standing there together, you almost could convince yourself you were an actual couple.

“Yeah, it is.”

He beamed, tightening his arms around you, letting out a small sigh of relief. “Okay, good, I’m glad.”

You lowered your gaze, and you wondered if he maybe feared you wouldn’t go because you couldn’t find anything to wear. If maybe that was the reason for why he came so quickly because he didn’t want you to use that excuse. Because otherwise he would have to explain to his precious and perfect parents why his girlfriend refused to meet them-

“How does the 22nd sound to you by the way?” Jungkook asked, pulling you out of your trains of thoughts, almost as if he knew. He mumbled the words into your skin, and you felt every move of his lips. “To meet my parents, I mean.”

Just eight days.

“Y-yeah, that… should work,” you returned, breathless and high pitched, eyes finding the floor. He stared at you in the reflection, nudging you to do the same. You hesitated, but did as he said, breath hitching in your throat when you saw the way he was looking at you, oh so sincere and genuine.

“It’s gonna be fine.”

There was something assuring about the way he said it. If anyone elses told you these words, it would do you no good, bring you no relief. But when he did, it did. It was silly really.

“I promise you.”

“Yeah, really, Jeon?” you laughed shallowly, tucking a strand behind your ear and swallowing. “You promise me?”

And as if looking at your mere reflection just wasn’t enough for him, Jungkook turned you around by your hips, forcing your eyes to meet his. 

“I promises you, cabbage. I won’t leave you for one second, alright? Hell, I will drive you there and home again, okay? I’ll be there with you for every second of the day, from the moment you wake up to the moment you go back to bed, glued to your side, so much so you’ll be so annoyed by me that you’ll want me gone. You won’t even go the bathroom on your own, okay?” He paused for a second, scrunching his nose. “I’ll make sure you will have the most non awkward but perfect and fun evening possible.”

His phrasing made you laugh, ebbed the waves of anxiety crashing onto your mind over and over again when you thought a little too much about the next week. His parents, him and you, in one room. 

“It’s gonna be great.”

Jungkook smiled at you, a little too bright and too wide. You returned it to the best of your abilities, letting him pull you back into a hug, eyes falling shut.

“Okay, I believe you,” you told him, hearing his heart beating in his chest. “For once.”

He tightened his arms around you.

(“Do you think it will have snowed by then?” he asked you when the intro to the new episode of Avatar began playing on his laptop. You looked up, eyes catching his, your head rested against his chest and his arms around you.

“What?”

“By the 22nd I mean. Do you think it will have snowed by then?”

You frowned, thinking of the last few winters. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

He thought about your answer for a few more seconds, looking off to the side before returning your gaze. “I hope. I’d like to spend a proper white Christmas with you.”

“Pray to the Gods then,” you said. “Chances aren’t so good.”

The past few years it had always only snowed in January.

“Oh, I do, every day,” Jungkook laughed, and you hummed, focusing back on the episode and missing the way his gaze softened at your sight.)

“Okay, so I’ll be back right before New Year,” Chaeyoung said, giving her calendar one last look before snapping it close again. “Who of us is gonna be here?”

Hoseok and you both let out affirmative noises, and Jimin raised his hand in a yes as well, mouth stuffed with his sandwich. You scooted closer to the table to let a guy squeeze through as he made his way to the lunch table with his friends, a tray full of bland and dry cafeteria food.

“I’m not sure yet,” Jisoo said, taking a handful of grapes from her purple grape shaped lunch box and plopping each one into her mouth. “My sister asked if I wanted to celebrate New Year’s with her. But maybe she’ll go over to her girlfriend’s. She isn’t sure yet. I’ll text you guys?”

“I’ll be here the entire holidays,” Namjoon sighed. “I still have finals.”

“Ah, I’m sorry,” you said, offering him a smile. He waved you off, mumbling something about how at least he was almost finished up with it all. 

“Well, at least we will be spending New Year’s together, right?” Jimin said with a smile.

You took a sip from your green tea, needing warmth because your University never turned on the heaters, preferring their students to freeze. Where did your tuition money go? 

“Okay, but how about Christmas eve for everyone else? When are you guys heading back home again?” Hoseok asked, shovelling his protein oatmeal into his mouth. “You’re going tonight, right, Ji? With Jennie?”

“Yeah, our train’s booked for 8 pm.”

“I’ll go on the 23rd,” Jimin said, and Chaeyoung echoed the same. 

“You’re going tomorrow, right?” she asked Hoseok, and he nodded. “When are you meeting Kook’s parents again, Y/N? The 22nd?”

“Yeah.” You played with the lip of your paper cup, feeling the warmth of your tea. Your heart grew a little heavier, scared one of them would ask when you’d go meet your parents. Because you weren’t, at least not on Christmas eve. Both of them had to work, unable to take a day off. It was an irrational fear, you were aware. Because your friends knew that very well. They’d never ask, but your heart didn’t understand.

“That’s- oh my God, that’s in four days, huh?” Jisoo gasped, and the horror and terror gripping you must have reflected on your face because she was quick to interject. “Oh, sorry. No, it’s gonna be great, Y/N. I don’t know why I said that. That was stupid.”

“You’re still anxious about it, huh?” Hoseok mumbled, and though he worded it like a question, all of you knew the answer.

“Hard not to be,” you said, voice a little short and curt. “It comes in… waves.”

Namjoon patted your shoulder. “It’s gonna be fine.”

Chaeyoung reached for your hand, squeezing it. “Yeah, I’m sure. We’re all gonna be there for you if it does somehow go wrong—which I highly, highly doubt might I add.”

“Well, not Jisoo. She’s gonna be home, busy showing off her Jennie,” you joked, trying to make light of the situation but it sounded just slightly off.

“What? I can’t be there for you from home?” Jisoo gasped, and before you could question how she’d do that, she continued. “I’m there for you too, telepathically! Jennie too! In your heart! Always! Over the phone! Don’t doubt us!”

You laughed a little, mouthing an apology.

“But you definitely won’t need us,” Jimin said. “Because it’s gonna be fine. Especially because Kook’s gonna make sure of it, okay?”

Before you could return something, your eyes were drawn to the doors.

Oh.

Your friends followed your gaze.

Jungkook had his backpack strapped to his shoulder and the red scarf wrapped around his neck. It shouldn’t be possible. You were technically too far for you to properly see, but you saw it—the tension in his shoulders, the strain in his nape, the deep knit between his brows. He was…. annoyed. It was new to you. For a moment, you almost expected to find Narae walking behind him, bugging him, hot on his trail. It would explain it to you, and you would just simply walk over there and pull him to your table. Just like that, you would ease the knit between your brows, take the tension out of his shoulders and neck-

But it wasn’t Narae. 

It was Taehyung. 

He said something to Jungkook that made him roll his eyes. Jungkook didn’t seem to want to respond, shaking his head and waving his hand around, an attempt to end the conversation. But Taehyung wasn’t so kind, going on, even taking hold of his shoulder.

“Someone is in a mood,” Namjoon mumbled, cringing.

“What are they talking about, Y/N?” Jimin asked, looking at you, and you stared right back at him, frowning.

“How would I know?”

“You’re his girlfriend.”

“So?”

“Go find out.”

“What? I just walk up to them and say,” you raised your voice a few pitches, “‘Oh my God, hi, you guys are clearly fighting. Care to share?’ Is that what you want?”

Jimin blinked, shrugging. “Sure, that would work.”

“You’re so ridiculous, Jimin,” you hissed, touching a hand to your forehead. “That wouldn’t work.”

“Of course, it would. Kook’s absolutely obsessed-”

“Oh my God, shut up,” Chaeyoung hissed, slapping Jimin. “They’re looking!”

“You guys are always so loud,” Hoseok sighed, and you sent him a glare because no, you don’t! It’s just Jimin!

But they were right. Taehyung and Jungkook were both looking at you, their conversation having come to an end. When you met his gaze, Jungkook’s face contorted into something else, features twitching. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it wasn’t the usual. He didn’t soften in the way you were used to when he would see you. And when you tried a smile, Jungkook struggled to return it. You felt shot, and your smile faltered.

But Jimin didn’t sense it at all, wildly waving his hand around, gesturing for the two to come this way. And as if it wasn’t more obvious, he yelled it too, “Hey, Tae and Kook! Come join us!”

Jisoo sighed, “He’s such an idiot.”

Chaeyoung and Hoseok shrugged, as if to say well, it’s Jimin. They were right, it was just Jimin being himself, unaware and impulsive. Namjoon didn’t have any words, shaking his head. 

Jungkook and Taehyung looked at each other, exchanging a few words before the latter glanced at his watch and shook his head. He had to go. Taehyung placed his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, whispering something into his ear. You must have imagined it but it looked like he glanced in your direction. But before you could think about it, Taehyung headed in the same direction he had previously come from, and Jungkook slowly made his way over, not meeting your eyes once.

“What were you arguing about?” Jimin asked when Jungkook stood in front of you, and you watched him grip the strap of his backpack, the skin over his knuckles stretching thin.

“Jimin!” Jisoo hissed, punching him. 

“Ow!”

“Right, yeah, of course, you’d ask,” he smiled. “It’s fine.”

Jungkook said it with a laugh, but it was all wrong. 

“We weren’t arguing.” 

And as if it wasn’t enough, Jungkook put on his brightest and biggest smile. He showed it to everyone. Like a stone plunged into the deep sea, your heart sank. You had seen it before, that smile. It had decorated his lips during the Halloween party when you first walked in, or when you had first hurt his feelings while you had gone costume shopping. 

Namjoon and you looked at each other shortly, both of you sensing it. 

“Is everything-”

“Well, it looked like you were,” Jimin mumbled, accidentally interrupting Namjoon. He waited for Jungkook to budge and cave under his gaze, but when he wouldn’t, he shrugged. “Come sit.”

Maybe he could feel your burning gaze on him, but Jungkook finally glanced in your direction. If only for a second, so very brief. But it dug into your heart and split it open, gutted you and left you utterly empty. You had seen him just yesterday, picked out your dress together, parted ways this morning a few hours ago, and now he seemed like another person. He looked so sad, sad in a way you hadn’t seen before. You didn’t think that any emotion close to that had ever crossed his features, not in your presence at least. It was so new and surprising to you—because somehow in your mind, you had forgotten he had the ability to feel… upset—you froze.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” Jungkook said, nailing that same smile back onto his lips as before. “But I’ll see you guys around.”

And before any of you could protest, he was gone, back turned to your table and heading into the crowd. 

“Well, that was… weird,” Chaeyoung said, pointing out the elephant in the room. And as if she had said your name, everyone turned to you for some kind of answer.

You blinked back at them. “Yeah, I-I don’t know.”

There was another beat of silence before ultimately your friends shrugged.

“Maybe it’s just not a good day?” Hoseok proposed, and they were all quick to agree, moving on. And though you didn’t voice it, you knew it wasn’t that. It couldn’t just be that. 

You knew it was about you. It had to be. Taehyung had glanced at your direction. You hadn’t imagined it, that much you were sure of. And the fact Jungkook hadn’t been able to look at you cemented it for you. Your heart quickened, a certain question coming to the front of your mind.

What if Jungkook didn’t want you to meet his parents anymore?

Maybe it had finally clicked with him—what it meant if you met his parents. How ridiculous it was. Because you weren’t his girlfriend. It was his parents after all. How stupid all of it was actually. Not just you meeting his parents, but the entire contract you had. How far it had gone, too far.

You pressed your lips together, a knot forming in your throat. Maybe he didn’t know how to tell you now. Maybe you should be prepared for the very worst. Maybe this was it. Impact incoming! The fall was nearing its end, your end.

Your hands began shaking, curling around the edge of the table for stability. Panic built up within you, panic that really shouldn’t build up at all, you knew. Your friends blurred into an incohesive mess in front of you.

Oh God.

You didn’t see Jungkook for the rest of the day, or the one after that. In fact, you didn’t hear from him at all, until almost two days later. Maybe you should have reached out first—you did think about it. But you simply couldn’t, your hands shaking whenever you’d open your chat with him, your old messages staring back at you almost mockingly. Because what if he told you he wanted to end it? What if this was how it would end because you couldn’t wait and recklessly send a message?

There was a few seconds of silence, the sound of his breathing coming in through unsteadily. You gripped your phone tighter.

“Hey.”

Jungkook still sounded the same, and for some reason, you were surprised. Why you expected him to sound different, you didn’t know. 

“Hi,” you returned, swallowing because it was your voice, in fact, that sounded odd. At least it did to you. You cleared your throat.

Usually, he’d make some joke, ask you about your day, how you were doing, where you were, if you had watched the videos he’d sent you yet, eaten already. Usually, your conversation would be much lighter, easier. Right now, you felt the air hanging between you, pulling your legs closer to your chest as you waited and waited. He had called you, he would have to speak first.

“I’m sorry I didn’t join you guys for lunch the other day,” Jungkook mumbled, and you closed your eyes.

“It’s alright,” you said, a waver to your voice and you couldn’t decide if it was because you felt cold, even though you were tucked into your bed, or because you felt uncertain of it all, like you were standing at the edge of a cliff, the deep sea awaiting you on the other side, waves crashing up on you. 

Neither of you said anything. 

Your throat grew dry, the questions coming back up again within you. Was he going to tell you over the phone? That he didn’t want you to meet his parents anymore. Maybe even that he wanted to call this entire thing off. That he’d realised this wasn’t worth it anymore, doing all of this to win a stupid bet he’d made with Taehyung months ago. It had gotten too exhausting, you had gotten too exhausting for him. Let’s just end it here, tell everyone you’d just fallen out of love. Hell maybe he’d be even willing to tell everyone the truth, how they’d been fooled. It had all been an act! How fun! How could you all think he was in love with-

“Everything’s alright.”

You paused. “What?”

“I-” Jungkook faltered, letting out a laugh. It came through oh so light and clear. Just not quite genuine. Or maybe you were imagining it, your mind dissecting every of his words. “I’m just trying to say- things are alright. It’s gonna be okay.”

And for some reason, you knew the words weren’t meant to reassure you. But him. He needed it right now, more than you. You blinked, nodded as if he could see.

“Yeah, everything’s alright,” you repeated, quietly. “It’s gonna be okay.”

What exactly he referred to, you weren’t sure. And you weren’t going to ask. He’d tell you when he wanted you to know, when he was ready. Truth be told, you weren’t even entirely sure if you were ready for it, couldn’t say either where your confidence that it’d be alright came from. 

“It will, right?” he laughed again, that same laugh. It came through now, the tinge of uncertainty swinging with his voice. 

You added a small smile, reassurance. “Of course, it will. Always has.”

Jungkook waited a beat, thought about it for a second. “Yeah, no, yeah you’re right.”

And then, you both went back to silence again. You were the one to break it, doing so before you could think better of it and retreat. The question slipped so quickly past your lips, came out of you with the answer to it packaged within already. For once, you dared something, held out your heart.

“Do you want to come over?”

The question seemed alright at first. He’d tell you he was already on his way, in fact. Had you not heard the engine this entire time? Actually, look outside! How silly of you, he had gotten you again. You’d laugh, buzz him up while telling him how annoying he was. He’d fall into your arms, coat and scarf and shoes still on. There’d be no time for you to tell him to at least take off his shoes because he’d knock you over with his entire weight. But you’d hold him up, if not barely and struggling heavily. You’d do it, and you’d do it with a smile. He’d press a kiss to your lips and ask you again if things would just be fine. And you’d do the same as you did on the phone, like a good girlfriend does, you’d reassure him over and over again until you’d be too tired and fall asleep together. Things would truly be alright, you’d meet his parents and maybe resolve it all. Maybe he and you could be something, more. Maybe he meant it, all of it, the gestures and words and kisses. He and you, together, it could be possible-

“I’m sorry—” You wanted him to stop then. He didn’t need to elaborate. It was enough. You bit down on your tongue, hard. “I’m… just really tired today.”

Jungkook hesitated, spoke slowly, and you wanted to laugh it off, tell him it was alright and to go to sleep, but your throat knotted into a terrible mess. 

He didn’t want you to meet his parents.

“Hm.”

It was the only response you could offer. Because if you spoke, he would know, and he couldn’t know—the tears that shot into your eyes.

You pressed your hand to your mouth, and wondered if your reassurance had done anything at all. If not actually you had needed it, even more than he did. 

“I think- classes was exhausting, so yeah. You know, right? So I’m gonna go to bed now,” Jungkook said, and you nodded, as if he could see you, and if you checked, you’d realise it was just eight. You bit your tongue harder.

He never liked you.

“Okay,” you squeaked out, your voice a few pitches too high. He had to know, you were sure of it. Anyone would know, even a drunk Jimin could figure it out. It was blatantly obvious, and you pressed your hand harder against your mouth, scared as you awaited what he’d say. You wouldn’t know how to answer his questions if he asked you why you cried. It would be utterly humiliating to admit why—that you knew you never meant anything to him beyond what you’d agreed upon, but that he did to you. So much, in fact. 

“Goodnight-”

You ended the call, your phone displayed his name for a few more seconds before you tossed it aside, uncaring that it bounced off your bed and you’d have to look for it later on the floor. A part of you wanted to laugh, outright laugh out loud, laugh so loud because maybe it would drown it out. Because were you not just silly? Stupid? Even more so for the tears that rolled down your face and stained your duvet three shades darker. Clear evidence of your silliness, your delusion, your unwavering and foolish hope. 

It embarrassed and humiliated you, how quickly the tears came, how his words had crashed onto you, ship-wrecked you, buried you under. His words hurt, and his dismissal even more. Two words had been enough, had pierced your heart and left you tiptoeing a cliff. Jungkook had more power than you thought he did, power he shouldn’t be holding over your head and heart to begin with. Power he shouldn’t have because you didn’t have it over him.

A text awaited you one morning, just a day before the 22nd.

[Jeon - 07:01 AM] : can i come over later tonight?

And a text was all it took.

Jungkook was not even a second late. Someone was in a hurry to get this over with, it almost made you laugh. Your doorbell rang the moment the clock turned seven. Still, you shrieked, hesitated, stared at your front door like you hadn’t known he’d come, like you hadn’t expected him to come.

You busied yourself with your phone, swiping back and forth, as he climbed up the stairs, your back turned to the door. You just couldn’t watch as he stepped inside. This was it. He’d tell you that he’d realised this had gotten too far, out of hand. You wouldn’t have to meet his parents tomorrow, you had done your part. He’d thank you, assure you he’d break the news to your friends and take the blame. It’d be alright, you wouldn’t have to do anything. And just like before you had ever talked to Jungkook at the vending machine, you’d go your own ways. 

His steps grew louder, echoed less and less until he was inside. A draft pulled through your small flat as he shut the door behind you, quiet but final. You shivered and turned off your phone, heart heavy in your chest as you prepared yourself to turn around and face him. You had thought about it all day, agonised how it’d be like to see him again the past week, how you’d handle this, how you could retain just a bit of your pride at the end of this. The scenario played over and over again in your mind—you’d look at him with a smile, tell him you understood perfectly and he didn’t need to explain. It had been stupid anyway, fun but stupid. Both of you knew this wasn’t anything really, it would come to an end. You didn’t mind it at all. 

“You know, it’s alright, Jeon. I know what you wanna-”

Jungkook wrapped his arms around you with his coat and scarf and shoes on. He pressed you to his chest, held you even tighter when you hesitated to return his hug, as if he needed to physically feel you, be sure you were there.

You hadn’t seen him all week, and all of a sudden, you didn’t know what to do around him anymore.

“Jeon?” 

“Can you hug me?” he asked you, voice barely above a whisper, and though you had been so sure about what would happen just seconds ago, pictured how your conversation would go, you realised you knew nothing at all. You did as he said, putting your arms around his middle and squeezing as tightly as you could, holding your breath even.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like this, but when you pulled away, Jungkook looked at you in a way you had never seen. He took your hands into his.

“I’m sorry, cabbage,” he began, and in the dim light, you could see his eyes glaze over. “I don’t know what’s been going on with me for the past week.”

He paused, breathed in deeply, looked to the side before returning his gaze to you. 

“I think- there’s just been a lot on my mind, and I had to figure it out first, I think,” he continued. “I-I don’t think I fully have, but I will, soon.”

You looked at him, silent for a few seconds before you nodded, brushing your thumbs over the inside of his wrists.

“That’s okay,” you told him, giving him a smile. “It’s fine. I understand.”

Truth be told, you didn’t know where you took your words from, where you dug up that reassurance again. Because you’d felt the opposite for the past week. It’d been a horrible week for you, sleepless and anxious. 

You’d been tiptoeing a thin line, wondering every second when exactly this would blow over, just how close you were to impact, when your fall would end. Would it be a text? A call? Would he just show up to your doorstep unannounced one evening after you had come back from exhausting classes and do it then? Or would it be Jimin who’d relayed the messages? Would he not tell you at all, deeming not worth the effort even? So, it had been nice to be told the truth—that things had been confusing for Jungkook and he hadn’t figured out how to navigate it all—and yet you weren’t sure if it was enough for you, if it qualmed your worries.

“I’m really sorry, cabbage,” Jungkook repeated, and you wondered what he was so sorry for that he needed to apologise twice. If maybe you were right. Why else would he feel so apologetic? Was the ending coming and he just needed some more time to figure out the order of his words, unable to bring it over his heart? 

You should ask him if the things plaguing his mind was how to end this. You should, really. Regardless of the answer, it would free you, however painful it might just be. You’d find peace. Maybe you feared the pain too much, the tears that would run down your face, the embarrassment that would rip you into pieces, or maybe you didn’t care enough for yourself to find out the truth, but you didn’t ask. 

Your smile grew bigger, and you didn’t know who you were fooling, him or you. “Don’t be. It’s okay, Jeon.”

Jungkook took your face into his hands, staring into your eyes, looking so intensely at you like he’d never before. He was searching something, and you weren’t sure if he found it, if you held whatever he looked for at all.

“It’ll be fine,” you said, and this was for you, not him. 

“It’ll be fine,” he repeated, nodding, and as he leaned closer to you, you wondered if the same would apply tomorrow. When you’d meet his parents, stand in front of them. When they’d scrutinise every little detail about you and come to their conclusion on who you were before you could even open your mouth and utter your name. 

You let Jungkook pull you into a kiss, returned it with the same intensity. Both of you needed it right now. What exactly you offered each other, you couldn’t pinpoint. But it was enough to silence your mind and his too. 

When his hands wandered, so did yours. He pushed you to your bed, and you let your mattress catch your fall. Your sweater landed on your floor, and soon the rest of your clothes followed. His coat and the scarf you had made him found its place at the foot of your bed. He struggled for a bit to kick off his boots before ultimately stumbling out of them.

Jungkook pressed kisses from your lips to your ear down to your neck and collarbone. Slowly, they wandered further down and down, stopping as he paid extra attention to the places he learned you liked, made your back arch in his favourite way and your breath hitch so beautifully in your throat. Soon, you were pleading with the Gods above, curling your hands around your duvet as Jungkook familiarised himself with you again. His hands pried you open, splitting you into two again and again, bringing you high above. You returned the favour, listened as he found religion through you, drawing out his relief until he needed your lips on his instead. By now, you knew him blindly, your hands finding the sensitive parts of him even as he carved his way back to yours.

“I’ve missed you,” Jungkook mumbled into your ear when he began moving, and you smiled, wrapped your arms around him. So had you. 

“Me too,” you returned, your hips finding a steady rhythm together. He pressed kisses to your skin, hands holding you oh so tightly like he usually would. But he hadn’t said it, hadn’t told you for the entire week, not even now when he would on any other day—that he loved you—and so maybe that was why you fell asleep with an uneasy heart. 

Had he not promised? That he’d be there for every second of the day, from the moment you woke up to the moment you went back to bed, glued to your side until you were sick of him? Was that not what he had said, the words he assured you with? So how was it that you awoke alone, like you had been for the entire past week, without him?

Jungkook wasn’t here, and yet you looked around your home like he could be hidden in some corner. He didn’t like you anymore, you were sure. Why would he? He never did to begin with. Probably regretted this more than anything else, realised just how exhausting it was to be with you. It wouldn’t be worth it. His parents wouldn’t like you, tell him that he could do better. He’d agree- actually he knew that already. Yesterday night had been a mistake, just like all the other times had been. He and you weren’t the same, never could be. Just like two mismatching puzzle pieces, you’d never make a whole picture together. You’d been right, of course. Jungkook could never like you, never saw you as anything more than a paw in this stupid cruel game between Taehyung and you. And you had been played, over and over again. How stupid of you. Foolish! This-

The blaring of your alarm brought you back to reality, the sound filling your ears. You had forgotten to turn it off. You reached for your phone, shutting it off but before you could toss it aside, you saw it. It made you pause, his name atop of your notifications. A voice memo, just over two minutes. Like it had been all you had been looking for, you hurriedly unlocked your phone. You were about to hit start, when you paused, your thumb hovering just above it. Because it could be anything—a simple breakfast run, or a goodbye. A pit grew in your stomach, and you wished he had just left you a clue about what he’d be saying in it. Your chest webbed tightly with anxiety, a rollercoaster in your throat.

You took in a deep breath, bracing yourself, eyes closed as you hit play. Whatever it might be, you’d be fine, somehow, you hoped.

“Hey, I’m so sorry—” Your chest felt so hollow, his voice unsteady. He was running, the wind blowing up the audio. He sounded far away, you had to strain to hear him properly, your phone on maximum volume. “—I know I promised to be there when you’d wake up, but—”

But I just couldn’t do this any longer. I wanted to tell you yesterday, but I just didn’t know how to. I’m sorry.

“—my mom called me. She’s having an emergency with her car, and now she’s stuck in- actually, I don’t know where, but I’m on my way there to jumpstart her car. And I thought about waking you up for it, but that felt mean and you looked so peaceful, I just couldn’t. But- it’s so cold, oh my God. Listen, I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I’m gonna hurry, okay? So just wait for me, alright? I’ll be there, I promise.”

You heard the door of his car open and close. The wind cut out, and all of a sudden it was quiet. There was ruffling, Jungkook took his phone closer to his face. He sighed, and you could see him right in front of your eyes—sitting there in his car, hair a mess on his head, as he closed his eyes to find his words, a knit between his brows.

“I’m really sorry, cabbage,” he began again. “Both for leaving now because I know I had promised I’d be there, and… again for the past week. I know I’ve been shit, and I know you’ve been confused and- I’m sorry. I haven’t been fair at all-”

Neither had you however, you realised as you listened to him talk. Of course, Jungkook had only left because his mother needed his help. How could you assume the worst of him after everything? When he was so good and kind? Had been all this time to you?

“But we will figure this out, okay?”

Jungkook paused again. You pulled your legs to your chest, burying your face into your knees, teeth sinking into your tongue.

“Let’s talk about this after today. But it’s gonna be fine. Like you said it would.”

You had lied.

“What am I talking about?” He let out a small laugh, and you knew he was shaking his head at himself. “It’s already fine.” 

You felt like a traitor. You were terrible.

“I’ll be back to pick you up, okay? So just wait for me. I hope I can get to you by two the latest. I hope it won’t take too long to figure it all out. You know, I actually don’t know how to jumpstart a car, so I really don’t know why my mom called me.”

He laughed again, and you didn’t think you could ever get the sound out of your mind. It was so pretty and melodic, so good and precious. 

“Well, anyway, I gotta get going, but I can’t wait for tonight already. I miss you.”

You missed him too, loved him even. Did he? Could he? Could you?

It was cowardly of you, hypocritical actually. But you couldn’t do it differently, didn’t have the courage to look at Jungkook and say it. The words wouldn’t leave you, you were certain, if you stood in front of him. He deserved more than a text, but more than that he deserved the truth. And the truth was you couldn’t do this, any of it in fact, not anymore. Couldn’t meet his parents, or even pretend to be his girlfriend any longer, not in good conscience. It had to end.

Your thumbs shook as you slowly found the right letters, strung together the words and sentences. You hit delete every other word, barely getting a paragraph together in almost an hour. Because worst of all, even as you tried to offer some honesty, you knew you couldn’t offer it entirely to him, couldn’t let Jungkook know just how exactly you felt, how deeply you had plunged into love with him. 

I’m sorry, Jeon, but I don’t think I can keep this going any longer. I know I said I’d meet your parents, but I think we’re just going a little too far by doing that. I hope you understand. I know I’m not fulfilling our contract and you’ll lose your bet with Taehyung and I’m really sorry, so I’ll just wire back all the money. I never touched it anyway. 

You were about to finish off the paragraph, deciding that any wishes for your future relationship as friends would be too much to ask for, thumb sliding over the glass, when your phone lit up, buzzing and ringing. And right just then, you accepted the call, your heart dropping in your chest. Your stomach twisted terribly because you couldn’t do this. How could you? Hear his voice, talk to him as if you weren’t just about to call this entire thing off over text? How could you pretend it was all fine when you’d felt gutted for the entire week?

“Hey,” Jungkook greeted you, oh so unaware. You could hear the harsh wind coming through the speaker. “I’m sorry—”

You wished he’d stop apologising. If he just knew what you’d been thinking of him for the past few days, all the assumptions you had made about him and his character, his parents too. 

“—but looks like I won’t make it by two.”

There was a sigh, and you let the silence usher Jungkook to keep on speaking, knowing your voice would merely betray you.

“I tried to jumpstart the car, but yeah, it didn’t work out. We called some people now and seems like we’re gonna have to have the car towed and fixed at the shop.”

The frustration bled through in Jungkook’s voice. It was obvious. He had spent all morning trying desperately to fix his mom’s car in the freezing cold, and now it had come to this.

“We called my dad. He’s on his way here because I still need to go back to my parents and take a shower. It’s gonna take some time—the drive to my parents, the shower and then the drive to your place—so I definitely won’t make it by two. But I should be at your place by three the latest though, I hope that’s fine?”

You closed your eyes, wondered just what exactly you were supposed to say. And so, for a while you didn’t as you gathered yourself.

“Cabbage? Are you there? Can you hear-”

“Y-yeah.” You chewed on your lip, took a few more seconds before speaking. “You… don’t have to come-”

“What? No, I promised you I’d drive you. Let me at least do that,” Jungkook insisted, and you hoped he’d just understand. How direct did you have to be? 

“It’s fine, you don’t have to,” you tried, but to no avail.

He snorted. “Cabbage, I’m driving you. No matter what. My dad’s almost here. You won’t have to wait long. I’ll probably be at your place before three actually. I shower quickly!”

You pressed your hands to your eyes until dark spots appeared, shaking your head. Why couldn’t he just understand? 

A lump knotted your throat shut, your voice wavering as you began speaking, “I-I think we should just-”

“Ah, my dad’s here! I gotta go, cabbage. But please just wait, I’ll be there soon, okay? Can’t wait to see you! It’s gonna be great. You’re gonna charm their asses off, okay?”

And before you could even protest, confess to Jungkook that you couldn’t do any of this, he had hung up. You stared as your phone displayed your lockscreen before ultimately turning black, leaving you with your reflection.

You caught yourself in your mirror, realising how puffy your eyes were. It was blatantly obvious you had cried. You were a mess, in no state to meet anyone’s parents, no less Jungkook’s perfect parents. But now you couldn’t even get yourself out of this anymore, not when you had heard his excitement again. How could you disappoint him? 

Just one more day. You’d do it for one more day, him and you. You’d just get today over with, that much you owed him, and then you’d sit him down to break it all off.

The dress was still oh so beautiful on you, harmonised perfectly with the white cropped cardigan you had picked out for today because it was, indeed, cold like Jungkook had said it was, and you really didn’t want to freeze. Your hair remained the same as always. You had thought about changing it, but decided in the end that at least your hair should be the way you were used to. Same with your jewellery, the same few pieces you wore every day adorning you today too. You kept the makeup minimal, and still it took you ages to get it done, hands shaky as you carefully drew on eyeliner and curled your lashes. 

Looking at yourself you wondered if it was enough to fool everyone, yourself possibly even that you were perfectly fine, that you fit to Jungkook, that he and you could be something more, that your background was the same as theirs, that you were just another Narae, well-off and well-travelled.

But your doubts and worries had no time to brew, your doorbell announcing Jungkook. Shrugging on your coat and slipping into the pair of black kitten heels you had borrowed from Chaeyoung, you gave yourself one more look in the mirror. You looked beautiful, you knew that. Everything about you looked so close to perfect, and yet, you felt the opposite. Today was the last time for Jungkook and you, and just the thought made you want to cry.

You shook your head, not wanting to keep Jungkook waiting any longer. It was truly cold, and you regretted your choice of shoes the moment you stepped outside, cursing yourself. The wind snaked up your legs. Maybe if you knew that this wasn’t going to be your last day together as a pretend couple, you would have run up and changed. But more than ever before, you wanted to look your best today. Because at the very least, however today might end (badly), you looked good.

Jungkook agreed, face lighting up the moment he laid his eyes on you. You tried your very best to return your smile. He looked oh so good too, wondering if he matched you on purpose. His sweater was the same deep rich red as yours, a white turtleneck layered underneath. He paired it off with some black slacks and black boots, your scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. You couldn’t look at him too long, vision beginning to swim when you did, so you focused on the ground, one step after the other.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jungkook gasped, clutching his chest and pretending to have a heart attack. 

“Thank you,” you said, speaking quietly, afraid your voice was going to betray you. “You too.”

Your compliment made his smile turn into a grin. “Well, you’re prettier.”

Usually, you’d make some snarky comment, fall into the same old banter you’d established with him long ago. Today, you could barely bring yourself to look at him. 

“Let’s-”

Jungkook cupped your face, lifting your eyes to him, forcing you to face him. His gaze turned your insides soft and puddy, hands beginning to shake by your side.

“I’m so happy, cabbage,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your lips. It almost made you cry. You screwed your eyes shut. Before the kiss could go on longer, devastate you more, crush you further, you pulled away.

“I-I’ve got lipgloss on,” you mumbled, giving Jungkook a short smile before stepping aside to walk to his car. He laughed behind you, telling you how he didn’t mind at all, but still, he followed you.

Just as you were about to reach for the car door, he did it for you. Always the gentleman. You paused for a second, surprised (why were you?), before climbing inside, heart heavy as you waited for him to just close the car door. Jungkook didn’t though, drawing your eyes back to him.

“Are you sure about the shoes?” he asked you, brows furrowed together. “It’s cold. You’re not even wearing stockings.”

You felt even more self-conscious all of a sudden, tucking your feet underneath the seat, cheeks warming and heart thrumming. These shoes were the only ones that fit with your outfit. You didn’t have an extensive shoe collection, anything you could change into now wouldn’t match. It’d be a waste not to wear them, especially after you had asked Chaeyoung to borrow them.

“Y-yeah, it’s fine.”

Jungkook seemed to disagree, still standing there with the car door in his hand, and when he opened his mouth, you knew he was going to argue with you.

“I really-”

“It’s fine,” you repeated, reaching for the door handle. “Let’s just go. We’re gonna be late.”

The frown didn’t disappear from his face, but he conceded, albeit with a sigh. His hand squeezed yours, and you flinched, pulling it away as if he burned you. Jungkook stopped, eyes shooting to yours.

Your heart dropped in your chest. Oh no. 

You put on your brightest and biggest smile. “Sorry, your hand’s just super cold,” you laughed. 

Jungkook blinked before smiling, “Ah, sorry.”

With that he shut the car door, and you pulled the seat belt across your body, readying your words on your tongue that you had thought of this entire time.

I’m super tired. Do you mind if I sleep during the ride?

It was a blatant lie. Every nerve and fibre of your body was lit up, wired tightly. You couldn’t find sleep even if you laid in your bed now. The thought of having to talk to Jungkook for the entirety of the car ride, however, turned your stomach upside down. 

You decided to wait for him to put on the seat belt first before saying it, needing a few more seconds to rid the knot from your throat. From the corner of your eye, you watched as he climbed inside, putting his key into the ignition, rubbing his hands together. But rather than reach for the seat belt, Jungkook fumbled with the console, turning on the heat, carefully turning the knob back and forth. Warm air started blasting from the heaters immediately, wrapping you up from every direction.

“Do you want the seat warmer too?”

He looked at you so sincerely. You crumbled almost.

“I-It’s okay.”

“Just say a word and I’ll change it, okay? Don’t want you freezing,” he said before strapping the seat belt across his chest. You turned to the window. 

Your voice wavered slightly. “Uh, I’m super tired. Do you mind if I sleep during the ride?”

“Oh, yeah, no, totally. Get some sleep. I’ll wake you up when we’re there. Gonna take a while anyway.”

You hummed in response, frowning when you saw Jungkook rub his hands together, blowing into them, even holding them up to the heaters for a few seconds. Before you could wonder for too long, he took your hand into his, thumb brushing back and forth.

“Warm enough?”

He said it with such a beautiful smile. It shattered you. You merely nodded before turning away, eyes closing shut, a lump stuck in your throat. The gesture, however small, dug into your heart like a knife. He was so nice, so kind, so good. And for the past week, you had thought the worst of him. 

You knew you had arrived even before Jungkook parked the car. The engine slowly shut off, keys jangling when he pulled them out. You heard the click of his seat belt, some shuffling, and your heart beat faster as you waited for him to wake you up. Truth be told, you hadn’t thought this through. How were you going to convince him that you had slept this entire time when you hadn’t even for a single second? The last time you had pretended to sleep in the car was when you were seven and didn’t want to go to school. And even then, it hadn’t worked, your mother seeing right through you.

Jungkook had held your hand the entire ride. You had so gotten used to the feeling of his warmth that when he slowly pried his hand out of yours, you felt oddly cold. For a second, you thought you had to have imagined it when you heard the car door open. But when the sound of it softly closing followed, you knew you hadn’t. Maybe he wanted to come around and then wake you up?

You waited a few more seconds but when your car door remained shut, you slowly peeled your eyes open. Once again, Jungkook wasn’t there. But your attention turned to the house across the street instead. Jisoo and Chaeyoung had, of course, asked for Jungkook’s address—Just in case. He had happily sent it to them, and you too if you wanted to forward it to anyone else too. (The fact that Jisoo was over an hour's train ride away didn’t matter by the way.) You couldn’t recall the address, but you did remember the house number, and you were definitely staring at the right house right now.

It was bigger than you could have imagined it to be. It was so absurdly big, almost cartoonishly so. Even more so because it was decked out with all kinds of Christmas lights and stockings. You doubted no second the inside rivalled Chaeyoung’s and Jisoo’s home. But however ridiculous it was to you, this was Jungkook’s childhood home, the house where he grew up in. Where he spent his childhood and teenage years. This particular house. A house. Whilst you grew up in a flat, just with enough space to cram in your little family.

You saw him then, standing next to the expensive car parked in the driveway. Jungkook opened the car door to the passenger seat, and a second later, his mother stepped out. He offered her his hand, earning himself a big smile from her. From inside the car, you couldn’t hear what she said, but you could imagine it. She was right, he was a great son. 

Jungkook looked a lot like his mother, you realised. She had gifted him with her kind eyes and soft big smile. No wonder, her son was so beautiful. She was an elegant woman. It was obvious. The kind of woman that wore cashmere sweaters, baked fresh bread every Sunday, made sure to do her skincare routine every morning and night, expensive creams and serums lining her bathroom cupboard. Not a single hair on her head was grey. She was the perfect wife and mother.

From the driver's seat, a man emerged, Jungkook’s dad. There was a hint of grey colouring his hair, but he pulled it off well. He was shorter than Jungkook by a bit, but you could see right away where Jungkook got his confidence from. For a moment, you wondered if that was how Jungkook would look like when he was older. Would he resemble his father? His dad quickly rounded the car, greeting his son with a hug before taking his wife’s hand into his. He had a kind smile too, you noticed. Of course, he did.

Jungkook had to have said something particularly funny because both his parents erupted into laughter. You looked away, closing your eyes. 

What were you doing here?

The question blared louder than ever before. Could you really do this? Fool everyone? Yourself too? The answer was obvious to you as you looked ahead. A part of you wished you had come to that conclusion before you had gotten into the car. You didn’t know your way around this neighbourhood (of course, not), but you knew you had to get away from here either way.

You stepped out of the car, quietly shutting the door. He couldn’t see, couldn’t know. You had to get away, now.

“Where’s your girlfriend, Kook?” 

His father’s voice made you pause. Jungkook sounded so much like him.

“In the car. She’s sleeping.”

“Are you not gonna wake her up? At least, let her come inside and sleep inside. It’s so cold.”

“No, I was gonna, but then I saw you and dad pull up,” Jungkook explained, his voice carried to you through the wind. His car offered you enough coverage to hide and at the same time allowed a clear view of Jungkook and his parents. “Also, I was gonna get her another pair of shoes. She’s wearing heels.”

His mother gasped. “In this weather? Does she at least have stockings on?” When he shook his head, she gasped again. “No, that’s not good. You better get her another pair of shoes. She’s gonna freeze!”

“I know- ah, I turned off the heat!” Jungkook touched his forehead as if to say how stupid of him. 

You pressed your lips together, teeth sinking into your tongue. The guilt clawed up your throat, raw and red. It hurt, so much so that you didn’t even feel the cold wind on your feet and up your legs, or the way they ached from the unnatural arch the heels forced them into. 

“Go get your girlfriend some shoes,” Jungkook’s father told him. “I’ll get the groceries-”

“What? No, let me, dad. I can do both. I’ll be quick.”

“It’s fine, Kook. We don’t want your girlfriend freezing.” His mother placed her hand on his shoulder. But like the good son he was, he wasn’t having it, already moving to open the trunk.

“It’s okay. I turned off the car just now, and she’s been sleeping peacefully this entire time. I’ll be quick,” Jungkook insisted. “You guys get inside.”

His parents looked at him with a sigh, realising defeat. Jungkook’s father handed him the car keys.

“Well, you better be quick. You know we can’t wait to meet Y/N.”

And with that, they walked inside, hand in hand. Your heart shattered, your name rolling so easily off their lips. It was so odd to hear them say it, hear with how much kindness they did. 

You should just go now, take this opportunity to run, but your feet remained cemented, your eyes following Jungkook as he brought the first two bags up to the front door before grabbing the last two out of the car. Moving his foot underneath the sensor, the trunk closed automatically. You knew nothing about cars but you knew that such a feature didn’t come with most, and was definitely not cheap either.

Right now, looking ahead of you, you could see for the first time clearly just how different Jungkook and you were. There were two different worlds between you, a distance that no one could cross, no less a relationship that wasn’t genuine to begin with. It had been nice and fun, foolishly nice and fun, to pretend all this time, but in the end it had been foolish more than anything. 

Why you didn’t move still remained a mystery to you. Maybe your feet had really frozen to the sidewalk, the heels one of your worst ideas yet, or maybe you simply couldn’t do it, bring it over your heart to just walk away. Maybe you just needed a little more, of him and you. You knew these few seconds would be the last ones of peace before it would all crumble. The illusion would shatter. He and you would be done, forever. There would be no more hangouts together with all your friends, no more cookies and Avatar marathons, no more kisses and hugs. 

Jungkook and you would dissolve, just as quickly as it had all begun in that library with a notebook and pen. 

Jungkook was about to turn around and close the door and he’d see you, standing there on the sidewalk with your eyes set straight on him. He’d see you and he’d smile and put down the bags and walk over to you and ask you why you were standing there and why did you get out of the car and how cold it was. How stupid and silly of you! 

He’d come over and bring you into a hug and his lips would ghost over the crown of your head and you’d cave and melt and you’d go in and meet his family and it’d hurt so much to tell Jungkook’s parents what your parents did when they’d inevitably ask you because of course they would and you’d have to see as they realised that your parents didn’t get to enjoy higher education. They’d be silent for a few seconds before nodding and smiling. They’d quickly change the topic because it was better to talk about something else and oh I heard something so interesting on the news recently, did you hear?

But you didn’t move, even as Jungkook turned, arms heavy with grocery bags, and lifted his head, eyes meeting yours as you predicted he would. His lips lifted up into a smile, a smile bigger than you’d expected. He didn’t move though. Instead he blurred into a heap of colours.

You could no longer do this.

The image of him cleared as the first tears fell, and you watched as his face crumbled while he watched your chest heave up and down, sobs pushing out from your throat. 

Jungkook let go of the grocery bags, the contents spilling out. When he took his step towards you, you did too, away from him. He stilled, frozen. Why, you could see it on his face. Why were you crying? Why were you moving away from him? He deserved answers, an explanation, but the most you could muster up right now was the shake of your head.

No.

And then you took off. 

“Y/N!” 

You pressed your hand to your lips, scared of filling the street with your gut wrenching sobs. Tears kept streaming down your face, hot and heavy. 

You did feel sorry for doing this to Jungkook. But you had to. Because he wasn’t going to. It had to be you. You who finally saw the truth in the eye that this was ridiculous, that this had gone off the rails, that Jungkook and you should have never gotten to this point, to where you found comfort in his arms and he knew your favourite cookies and you showed him your home and he knew more than he should about you. To the point where you had shared the bed together and knew the softness of the other’s lips. To the point where you had irrevocably and undeniably and unfortunately fallen for Jungkook.

You were in love with Jeon Jungkook, and it was the worst thing you could have done to yourself-

“Y/N!”

And it was affirmed when he seized your elbow and turned you around. You didn’t make it very far. Your eyes locked with his, and you could see it in them. How this was going to end. How this had to end, now. 

You were reminded of when you ran out on Jaehwa after seeing him for the first time again. It was what you always did, you realised. Run. 

You just never expected you’d have to run out on Jungkook too.

His eyes, wide and big, searched your face, for something to give him a clue as to what was going on in the head of yours, anything. He didn’t understand. 

You pulled away from him as if his touch burned you, pushed him away.

“Why? What’s wrong?” he asked, frantic, reaching out for you again, but you couldn’t let him touch you, tumbling backwards. Hurt flashed across his features, but this was for the best. Why did you have to be this dramatic? How stupid of you!

“I-I can’t,” you stuttered, shaking your head, dragging your coat sleeve frantically on your cheeks. “I-I just can’t.”

Jungkook stared at you, face twisting and morphing into emotions you couldn’t decipher. You had never really understood him anyway.

“O-okay, hey, that’s fine.”

Who would have thought this would hurt so much to hear?

“That’s alright.”

He should be furious, absolutely and utterly mad with you. You had just run away. If he hadn’t caught you, he would have had to somehow explain to his parents why his so-called perfect girlfriend was suddenly gone. And yet, he met you with empathy and kindness. Jungkook was so good, so precious. He was so much better than you, deserved more. 

“I’ll give you a ride home-”

“No!” you screamed, lungs heaving for air, chest rising and falling dramatically. You shook your head, repeated it again, quieter this time. “No, you don’t understand.”

Jungkook stared at you, mouth opening and closing. “Okay, then explain. But let’s do this in the car-”

“Why are you like this?” You threw the question at his head, venomous and bitter. The anger wasn’t fair, shouldn’t be aimed at him at all. What had he done to deserve it? And yet, you couldn’t find it in you to shift the target. “What are we doing?”

His brows knitted together, the knit deepening. “I-I don’t know what you mean.” You looked at him as if he should. “Can we get to the car first, cabbage-”

You flinched. How could he still call you that? 

“This is so stupid,” you scoffed, shaking your head, eyes looking at everything but him. The cold wind blew your tears away, and your cheeks felt raw from all of the rubbing and dragging. “I- this is so wrong on so many levels. Why am I even here? What are we even doing? Why are you like this?”

“You don’t want to meet my parents, that’s fine. I really think we should get to the car-”

“Why? Because you don’t want your neighbours and parents to see what crazy person you’ve brought home?”

“What? No! Who said that? I wanna get to the car because it’s freezing cold and you only have a coat and heels on-”

“Oh, please, Jeon!” The laugh slipping from your lips made Jungkook flinch. It was so mean, filled with so much spite. “Don’t pretend to be good. What a cheap and pathetic act!”

None of the words you spoke were truthful. You didn’t know where you pulled them from, you didn’t believe any of them. All of them were hollow and mean. But maybe they’d be enough though to bring out anger within Jungkook, make him come to the same realisation as you had—that he and you had to end. But knowing him, he’d meet you with empathy and kindness over and over again. 

He had to hate you. 

You had to make him hate you. Otherwise, this would never find an end. Otherwise, he’d convince you of the opposite, and you’d never be able to let go of him. Otherwise, you’d lose yourself completely to him.

And when you looked at Jungkook, you knew you were right. Because there was no no fire in his eyes, nothing. He still stared at you the same way he used to. Even after you had called him names. Hating you was the only option.

“I really think we should just talk this out another time.”

Defeat, you realised, contorted his features. Not anger. Not spite. None of it. Just defeat. You closed your eyes, shaking your head.

“You’re clearly not in the best of moods and saying stuff that you don’t mean. I don't know what’s going on, but let me just give you a ride home and we’ll figure this out another-”

“Figure out what?” You leaned forward, gestured wildly around yourself. “We? Oh, please, Jeon, there’s no fucking ‘we’. Don’t make me laugh!”

He shook his head, hands running through his hair. 

“I really don’t think you mean any of this, Y/N. I know this entire situation must be bringing up bad memories for you- I know Jaehwa hurt you-”

“What? This has nothing to do with him,” you scoffed, narrowing your eyes, the words pushing through your clenched teeth like a bullet out of a gun. “What do you know, Jeon? What do you really know, huh? Actually, how can you know anything? You with your perfect stupid fucking family with a house oh so big because you just had to show everybody how you were better and richer and greater. What do you know about anything, really?”

You weren’t making sense, but you could see a change in Jungkook’s face, the flicker in his eyes as you mentioned his family. Bullseye.

“Miss me with that bullshit. You’re the kind of people I hate. It’s all so fake and condescending- fuck, you’re so stupidly loaded you’re paying me to pretend to date you so you can win a stupid shitty bet with Taehyung. Your parents must be so proud of their great great son.”

He closed his eyes, screwed them so tightly shut in hopes that maybe if he did so long enough, this would turn out to be a bad dream. This wasn’t happening. Things weren’t falling apart like that. They couldn’t. His hands curled into fists.

“Now you can’t even look at me, Jeon?” you sneered, voice and words growing more and more vicious. “Can’t face the truth, right? You pretend to be so good, so kind. But for fuck’s sake, look at the house you grew up in! Look at where I live! You’re the same as Jaehwa- actually, no because at the very least, he didn’t pretend like he and I weren’t different. You should have some shame, but I guess with parents-”

“Y/N!”

Your name cut through the air, and for once, you stopped and breathed. Jungkook had peeled his eyes open again, teeth gritted, jaw pulled taunt, hands curled into tight fists. 

“I really think it’d be better if you stopped talking now.”

And yet, it wasn’t the response you wanted.

You could have cried then, bawled, fallen to your knees and just admitted to it all. How much you did love him and how much you wanted him, but couldn’t have him because this just wasn’t going to work because he never really did love you and neither would his parents. He and you were doomed, like the moon and the sun. He just would never see it, too idealistic for his own good. Your blatant and devastating flaws. You weren’t good or kind. You had to be the one to pull the plug, to call this what it was—wrong.

“Yeah, of course, you’d say that,” you mumbled, the tip of your shoes digging into the concrete, rolling back and forth. The scratching sound it produced soothed you oddly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You know what I mean. You rich people just can’t ever face the truth-”

“No, you idiot!” 

His voice echoed through the empty street, loud and clear. Anger and disdain coloured his words, features twisting and knits deepening. There it was, finally. The anger and upset you had waited and waited for, the blow of the bomb, the finale. 

“I think you should stop talking because I love you and I don’t want my heart broken any further!”

Jungkook was so loud. You had never heard him so loud before, yell like that, tell you so abundantly clear that he loved you. It was the declaration of declarations, blaring and grand. You had wanted to hear it, needed to hear it all this time, all this week—that he loved you—and now when you finally did, it was truly the worst thing anyone had ever told you ever. Because it was everything you wished for, but you couldn’t have it, none of it. It wasn’t real, and even if it was, even if he meant it and he loved you, you couldn’t be with him. The truth didn’t matter. You were too damaged, too broken, too fucked up to never not doubt Jungkook, not to fear that he’d leave at any point. 

You’d never trust him.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you!” He pointed at you, face scrunched and eyes red, tears welling. “I thought we had gotten past this- isn’t it obvious that I do really love-”

“Oh, please. You goddamn liar!” Your voice shook, broke in your throat and mouth, head spinning. You were losing Jungkook, spectacularly so. “What do you know about love? This is an act, Jeon! You’re not in love with me! You’re in love with an act! You’re in love with the idea of winning your stupid bet with-”

“No, no-”

“Yes, Jeon, you don’t know shit. You pretend like you do- think you do when in reality, you don’t know anything about me. Who am I if not just a pawn in your game? Someone you paid, so you could boast and brag that you didn’t get rejected, huh?”

Jungkook licked his lips, veins bulging in his neck as he tried his very best to not go too far, implode on you, hands digging into the roots of his hair. “No, that’s not true. The bet between Tae and me—”

“Actually, you know what? I don’t even care. Because all of it is wrong. It’s not what we agreed upon-”

“Okay, yeah, so we weren’t supposed to kiss and spend time together privately, or sleep with each other and talk on the phone for hours. But look at us now!” He pointed between him and you, as if there was something between you. “We did it all, okay? And? Was it so bad?”

His eyes fixed yours, so deeply. He took a step towards you, and you didn’t back away, couldn’t.

“You call me a liar when I tell you I love you—” His voice shook, trembled terribly, and you could see Jungkook fight to find the right words, struggle to speak. It pained you to know it was all because of you. How easy would it be to take it all back? Admit fault and go back? But would it be right? “—but tell me then, why are you looking at me like that?”

You tried a laugh. A laugh that was meant to dismiss it all, deny the truth, but it sounded hollow and wrong. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes, beginning to crumble. And Jungkook saw right through you.

“Look at me and tell me you don’t feel something!” 

You closed your eyes, crossing your arms in front of your stomach. The world began to spin faster and faster, and you felt like you were losing the ground underneath yourself.

“You’re not being fair,” you whispered, shaking your head. You were speaking much quieter now, your voice having lost all of its bite and edge. This had been harder than you expected. “You’re breaking the contract-”

“Oh my God, will you forget about that? Both of us broke it a long time ago, willingly! Can you please just forget about all of it—the contract, the bet—and look at the facts?”

Jungkook was begging at this point. Would you come to your senses?

“Do you really genuinely think that the past weeks- months didn’t mean anything to me? That it was really all just pretend? That I lied about all of it? That I’m really such a big asshole that I’d pretend to be in love with you this entire time, call you daily, buy you your favourite cookies, hold your hand and kiss you and tell you—” This seemed to drain Jungkook of everything, voice trembling as he presented the worst version of himself to you. “—over and over again that I love you?”

He leaned forward, searched for your eyes. 

It was right in front of you—a white flag up in the air, for you to grab and hiss. You could do it now, he’d forgive you, you were certain of that. Jungkook was still kind enough to do so, his heart ready to let you back in. You wouldn’t even need to say anything, just falling into his arms would suffice. It’d be so easy. Simple, in fact. He’d let you do it, take your silent defeat as an apology. You’d never have to talk about it ever again. It was tempting, slip back into what you were before as if you weren’t aware that he and you were two parallel lines never meant to cross. Jungkook would never be tempted to take this way out, he’d stand straight for what he’d said, repent. The thought to take the easy way out would never cross his mind. It did yours.

“Y-yeah, I do.”

Jungkook shook his head, mouth set in a line.

“You don’t mean that-”

“Yes, I do-”

“Y/N, no, no, you-”

“Stop,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Stop insisting that I don’t mean it. I do. I-”

It was so ironic. It felt like the entire universe was mocking you, laughing at the two of you. This was what  Jungkook had wished for him and you, imagined how beautiful it would be, how you’d sit together in front of the window and watch before he’d suggest to go outside and you’d follow happily. You’d dance and play until neither of you could feel your hands and your cheeks were rough and raw from the cold wind. You’d yearn for the warm, shiver as you stepped inside, but you’d be happy. So very happy. But now it felt like a stab to your hearts instead. 

The first few snowflakes softly landed on your sleeve. It was so beautiful. The entire street would be white in a few hours, kids would come out to play soon.

“I’ll pay you back.” You took a step back, rubbed away the tears that wanted to spill. “See it as compensation for… not meeting your parents.”

Jungkook couldn’t respond, teeth sinking into his tongue, biting on the muscle until it hurt too much. 

“That’s not- that’s not the point. I don’t care for the money, I just-” He deflated. “Just-just meet them, Y/N. Give them a chance, please. You’ll realise- they’re gonna love-”

He stopped when you shrunk in on yourself, vehemently shaking your head. Neither of you said anything, just allowing the snow to fall around you and cover you in white. You’d be shivering in just a few minutes, hair and skin wet, feet shaky on the cold ground. 

Jungkook looked down, hands in his pockets, shoulders slumped. 

“Okay.”

You stood there as you waited for him to turn his back to you and walk away, waited and waited to be finally alone. He’d do it and you’d be alone and you’d be proven right, vindicated. Relief would flood you, knowing you had seen it coming, had always known correctly, protected you, at least, this time of hurt and-

The keys looked cold to the touch.

“Take them. Wait in the car. Call Chae or whoever to come pick you up. You can leave the keys in the car. I’ll get them later.”

Jungkook was ordering you, telling you what to do. And though he spoke with finality, allowing no room for you to disagree, his voice trembled and shook. You didn’t have to look to know the tears staining his cheeks, to know how much you had hurt him, realise that in your quest to do the best for both him and you because he deserved better and not be hurt and left in the end, you had done just that to Jungkook, plunged the knife into his heart and pushed it further even as he spat out blood. 

“It’s fine, I can-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Jungkook grabbed your hand and placed the keys into your palm, forcing your fingers shut around them with his own. His touch sent sparks through your body. It’d be the last time he’d ever touch you, you realised, and before you could stop it, the tears spilt. But you didn’t let out a noise, kept your head low and eyes even lower. 

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

Jungkook hesitated before letting go, his feet dragging as he walked away.

Maybe it was you holding the gun, not Jungkook.

→ thanks for reading !! if you have any thoughts, id love to hear it!

[morganbritton132]

was thinking about that wayne buying little steve cereal text post and was wondering if you still plan to write the fic its inspired? if so i am definitely looking forward to it and am cheering you on. if not that's cool too, i was just curious!

Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ll ever actually write the fic. But! I will tell you what I had in mind because it wasn’t supposed to be a sad fic!

Wayne starts noticing this kid around town.

He shouldn’t. He doesn’t notice any other kid, and this boy is well-dressed. He seems polite enough and well-behaved. There’s no reason that Wayne should pay him any mind, except… the hair. It’s a mess. It’s brushed up and backwards like the person who fixed it didn’t quite know what they were doing.

He keeps seeing that hair everywhere.

It’s asking questions at the hardware store about lightbulbs. It’s distracting Bob at the Radio Shack. It’s taking up half the aisle at Melvard’s with a cart it can’t see over, and asking Wayne, ‘Mister, can you reach the floss for me, please?’

There’s nothing out of the ordinary, honestly, but Wayne feels a might uncomfortable every time he sees this head of hair (a bit more stylish than the last) doing something that a parent might do. Especially because he never sees a parent.

It comes to head when he’s three people back in line at Melvard’s and people are complaining. He sticks his head out to see what the hold up is and sees that head of hair again, counting out quarters and dimes at the counter for a box of cheerios.

Davey, in front of him, swears under his breath and bounces on his feet like he’s about to say something, but Wayne beats him to it. Wayne takes the few steps up to the counter, looks Donald in the eye and wishes that it had been Joyce Byers instead.

He sits his carton of eggs and gallon of milk down on the counter next to the kid’s cereal and tells Don to ring it all up together. Then he tells the kid, “Put your money away, boy.”

He tries to talk to him outside the store, but the boy squeaks out ‘thanks’ and is running before Wayne can get anything out. He doesn’t see him for a while after that, and he can’t stop thinking about how hungry he looked.

A month and some change later, Wayne finds himself sliding into a booth at the diner across from the kid with the hair. He’s devouring slices of toast, pennies and nickels counted out on the table next to him.

The kid startles, and Wayne cuts to the point, “You hungry?”

The kid nods in that skittish way that reminds him of his nephew and Wayne orders two plates of pancakes. He lets the boy eat before he asks where his parents are. He gets no answer. He asks if he has enough food at home. The kid’s eye flicker to him and then back down, “Usually.”

He clicks his tongue, swears internally, and asks how often he’s left alone and hungry, and the boy says, “Their flight got delayed.”

The boy shrugs his shoulders and explains the money they leave him, and how sometimes he’s runs out but he’s learning better. It crushes Wayne just a little that he seems so proud of himself. Wayne gives the kid his number and tells him that if he’s ever hungry to call him.

For a while, Steve would call sporadically. Sometimes goes weeks, sometimes months. They’d meet at the diner and eat. This eventually lead to Wayne cooking for him in his trailer, then to him teaching Steve the basics, then to them cooking together.

Steve got older. He got a credit card. He got busier with school, and sports, and his friends. He didn’t need Wayne to feed him anymore, but they still tried to have dinner at least once a month.

When Eddie came to live with Wayne, he told him that Stevie came to dinner every third Saturday of the month. Eddie assumed Stevie was Wayne’s girlfriend.

The first Saturday that passed, Steve had to cancel because he had a basketball game. The second Saturday, Steve’s parents were in town so he couldn’t come. The third, Steve no showed, called the next day delirious with flu and apologized to Wayne.

The fourth Saturday rolls around and Eddie is thinking, “Man, this chick does not like Wayne. He needs to break up with his girlfriend before it gets really sad.”

Then there is a knock at the door, and Eddie opens it to the biggest jock asshole in the school.

Eddie stares at Steve in horror, and Steve stares back in total confusion, and then they both get annoyed like, “What are you doing here?”

Then cut to Eddie calling Steve out on bullying and Steve tattling about Eddie walking on the lunch tables. They bicker and argue, and Wayne secretly loves it.

[fatuismooches]

puer et monstrum.

synopsis: You attempt to help the adult raven reconcile with his younger fledgling self. In other words, four times Dottore ignored his child segment, the first time he didn’t, and the last time he did.

includes: dottore + platonic! zandy w/ gn! reader

notes: You grow to greatly love Zandy, Dottore's child segment, but you can't help but notice how your husband pays no attention to him. Therefore, you will try your best to change this. Fragile reader, lots of fluff, angst, very cute, you know the drill. Part of this fic is also greatly inspired by this ask (thank you to this anon!)

I. creation

At this point, Il Dottore had a good amount of experience creating segments.

Sure, the number of times he had failed was far greater than he liked, and he could count the number of successful segments with his fingers, but he had the general gist of the process and all. So, he decided it was time for him to create another segment of himself. This brought about the obvious question of what phase of his life he should bring back into this world. Dottore pondered this question for a while. He already made them all based on important parts of his life - when he was in the Akademiya, when he first became a Harbinger, and now one based on his current self not too long ago, just to name a few. He desired something new, something that could be vastly different.

In the end, he decided to create a child segment. 

His other segments were not very happy with the decision. A child would cry. A child would whine. A child could not do the tasks they could. A child would do… child things. It was a nuisance. But Dottore dismissed their complaints.

What good would a child’s perspective bring him? He didn’t know, but that was exactly the point. He didn’t know, which was why he sought the answer. And the only way to find this out was to create the child just as he’d done with his other younger selves.

After much time, money, and energy were exhausted, it was done. The child opened his eyes for the first time and saw a tall figure amidst the blinding lights. Once the masked man noticed his awakening, he looked at him, as if waiting for him to fully gain consciousness, and then spoke before the child could say anything.

“I am Dottore. You are a segment of mine that I created. You shall be called Ten.” After that brief statement, the man seemed to have finished all that he was going to say. That was when the child noticed the crowd of similar-looking blue-haired men as well, discussing things that he could not wrap his head around yet.

The child, now called “10”, had so many questions. Where was he? What does he do now? Why was he called a number? He doesn’t remember being called that before. Was he not Zandik anymore? The child wasn’t sure whether or not being ‘Zandik’ anymore was a good or bad thing. Maybe if he wasn’t ‘Zandik’ anymore, people wouldn’t scorn him so much.

Who are all these people, and why do they seem a bit similar to him? Being but a little kid, naturally, he was lost and confused, and he could not help but grasp the leg of the man called Dottore timidly. Immediately, the Harbinger stiffened at the contact, eyes swiftly moving to meet 10’s. The only person who ever touched him unprompted was you, but he had not felt your touch in centuries, so the sudden touch of the child surprised him. 

Though 10 could not see the taller man’s eyes, he didn’t think they were very kind. The child didn’t think the other man’s eyes were like his parents, or like the people from the village, no, but there was a certain feeling expressed toward him that 10 couldn’t explain. Regardless, 10 quickly received the message, and his hand slipped away from his creator’s.

“Tend to him,” was the lone order Prime gave the other segments before he left, leaving the little one all by himself, despite being surrounded by others.

II. curiosity

Being segments of the Harbinger meant they were busy people. Being the Harbinger himself meant that his time was even more sparse. This meant that any attention dedicated to 10 was few and far between, and pretty much always not of their own free will. One would think a child would be quite disheartened by the lack of attention, and well, they would be right, but 10 had long grown accustomed to being by himself ages ago considering his childhood. Did he like it? No, not yet at least. By the behavior of the other segments, he eventually grew to prefer being by himself. 

But 10 was still a child, curious about the world, which meant that he still did seek out the older segments’ company from time to time. Well, most of the time he was shooed away, but on rare occasions, 10 was able to be the recipient of some ranting by the younger segments or perhaps the observer of their intricate work (that was deemed acceptable to be viewed by children.) However, something 10 was able to learn was that there was one person whom the segments and Prime always seemed to offer their attention, willingly too.

[Name].

The kid seemed to be the only segment who didn’t really know you. 10 didn’t pay much attention to his older selves’ “patients”, but being an attentive and curious boy, he realized with due time that your name always seemed to be murmured by them. Not with the detached or annoyed tone the segments took on when regarding others, but it was different. Again, the young one had trouble putting his finger on it exactly, but if he had to put it into words, 10 would say they sounded a lot sweeter. It was an odd thing to say because if anyone else heard it, they certainly would not label the tone as sweet. It would probably sound simply normal to others. But that was truly what the child thought, maybe because he was connected to them in a way.

So of course, 10’s interest was very piqued. Oddly enough, for how nice they sounded, the child never saw a glimpse of you around the lab. 10 wondered what kind of person you were. How did you even know them? Would you talk about them in a sweet tone too? If you met him… would you speak about him that way as well? He wondered what it took for the older men to like you so much, maybe even… love? The child doesn’t know what love exactly looks like, but if love was anything like the stories he’s read, how the segments talk about you could be said to be a bit similar. 

But if 10 were to compare the two some more, maybe they aren’t that alike after all, considering all the things that were different. If segments loved you, wouldn’t you constantly be by their side, as lovers in fairytales do? If you two were apart, wouldn’t his creator be anguished by the loss of your presence, just like in the books? Yet whenever he saw the original, his expression seemed to always be the same - calculating, tired, seemingly more absorbed in his research than worried for another. (For the child does not understand how well Prime wears more masks than one.) 

So needless to say, 10 was confused. And with confusion comes curiosity, the need to seek out the answer, common for any child but especially for one as inquisitive as the blue-haired boy. In his room, 10 pondered for a while on what to do - he could try to sneak around for answers, but he imagined he’d get caught and scolded by the segments long before he found anything out. So, the child decided to simply ask about the matter. After all, the others always say asking questions is an important part of an experiment.

It’s still a gamble though, the child is well aware of the less than hospitable energy toward him by the others. They have a general… lack of patience for him. But still, persistence and the pursuit of knowledge are traits embodied in every version of Dottore. And so the child gathered up all his courage and set his little plan into action.

It was like any other day 10 had witnessed in the far too familiar lab. He had made sure to wake up in the very early morning - it was the best opportunity to catch a few segments together before they split up to do their separate tasks. Well, hopefully, they were there, some of them tended to stay locked up in their respective labs until they figured out the answer to what they were seeking. The child surprisingly had little sleepiness remaining in his system, the anticipation of the answer he would receive keeping him awake.

For once, it looked as though the segments were not bickering. It wasn’t quiet either though, they seemed to be discussing something work-related. But that was beside the point. Upon entering the room, the segments were a bit surprised to see 10, for it was obviously out of the ordinary for the kid to be awake, much less roaming around at this hour.

“What are you doing awake?” The Akademiya segment, 01, didn’t bother to hide his tone, unwilling to be vexed further with all the work he had left to do. But the child had come here with a determination that wouldn’t be swayed.

“I have a question,” 10 stated. The next segment who spoke didn’t spare a glance at him.

“And it could not wait until morning? You felt the need to interrupt us now?” 04’s response was blunt and straight to the point as usual - he was a segment that was perpetually annoyed. 10 couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever seen a smile on this segment. And yet 04 seemed kinder to him than when he interacted with others. 

Meanwhile, 02 watched with an unreadable expression behind his spotted mask. It was hard to predict what response you would get from 02 - would he be annoyed and snappy or perhaps treat you with a dose of excitement and interest? This time, however, it was the latter, as a grin crept its way onto his face.

“No, I want to hear this question. Surely, it must be greatly important for you to go to such lengths, yes?” 02’s red eyes gleamed, intrigued by the child segment’s nod. 10 nervously swallowed before squaring his shoulders resolutely.

“Who is [Name]?” 

And then all the miscellaneous noises in the lab came to an abrupt halt. 24, who usually remained uninterested in the conversations of his other segments, had suddenly tuned into the discussion at the mention of your name. The other present segments, who were absorbed in their work mere moments ago, now had their undivided attention on the child. 

“No one,” 04 said flatly, but the damage was already done. It was obvious that was a lie, and the child’s eyes glittered with enthusiasm as he began bouncing around to each segment.

“Who are they? What are they like? You like them, don’t you?” At the last question, 01 scowled at the declaration, hoping no one would notice the slight color of red at the tips of his ears. 02’s previous demeanor had changed into a blank yet thoughtful one, while 04 looked exasperated at the whole situation.

“How do you know about [Name]?” 24 was the one who finally responded to the child, and 10 awkwardly halted his barrage of questions. If 10 was being honest, 24 was probably the scariest of all the segments. The one closest to Prime and the most selfish.

“Well, all of you have mentioned them at least once… and when you do say their name, it just sounds like you like them. A lot,” 10 stared at the ground as he shared his observation. “You don’t sound like that for anyone else.” The segments were silent once more. The question was, were they that obvious, or was the brat just really attentive? The answer was most likely the latter, but still. This wasn’t a good look for them.

“I suppose this was bound to happen sooner or later,” 01 had recovered from his embarrassment, “Considering how much Two prattles on about them.” 02 frowned at the sudden accusation.

“Excuse me? That is rich coming from you,” the clone quickly snapped back, for the other was no exception to carrying on about you. 24 just grimaced at the start of another bickering session between his other selves.

“A-Anyway!” 10 interrupted the others before he could be ignored. “Can I know who they are? Can I see them?” The child pleaded earnestly as another pause swept through the room.

“You will not stop begging until we say yes, won’t you?” 04 sighed. “However, that decision is up to Prime.” 10’s shoulders drooped. He wasn’t really sure if Prime would listen to him, considering how rarely they ever spoke.

However, miraculously enough, a few days later, his wish was granted. He doesn’t know why Prime decided to do it, but 10 was just happy he’d finally know about the mysterious person! Funnily enough, the news had spread to all the segments, and all of them had decided to gather in the same space to tell their own opinion about you. 10 had never seen them… congregate like this. They seemed to enjoy the common topic - you - but the squabbling about certain matters (again, you) still took place. The child learned more things about you than he even understood. 

But he knew the basics now - you were their lover, meaning you loved them and they loved you, which even though it was not explicitly said, the child knew it anyway. This was obviously something a bit difficult for 10 to wrap his head around, but he found the idea thrilling. He knew his older selves well enough to know that you must be a pretty amazing person to have them so interested. 

Unfortunately, the child couldn’t prove this hypothesis of his, as he later found out the reason why you were nowhere to be seen. 10 remembers the first time he saw you, accompanied by another segment (18, this time.) Hooked up to a machine with countless wires, hands laying limp by your side, along with your chest that unnoticeably rose and fell. You were nothing like what 10 thought you’d look like. And yet he too thought you were beautiful. Sure, the child couldn’t see your eyes or smile or hear your voice, but as he held your hand and compared it to his much smaller one, he just had a feeling you were nothing like the grown-ups that he once knew long ago. But 10 was disappointed.

“Is [Name] going to be okay?” 10 worriedly looked at the segment, wondering about your current state. The others hadn’t disclosed many details about your illness.

“They will,” 18 affirmed. At least this segment was nicer to him than the others, with his softer tone and gentler mannerisms. He was still a Dottore segment, however. “One day they will wake up.” With that as his only answer, 10 went back to tracing the lines on the palm of your cold hand, hoping you would open your eyes again soon just like the other blue-haired men.

Since then, 10 found himself visiting your silent room, save for the beep-beeps from your machines, more and more often. There was just something about this unmoving, sleeping grown-up that drew him in. 10 had so many questions to ask you… but for now, he settled for reading his stories aloud to you. Maybe you could hear them too. Occasionally, some other segments dropped in to check on you, but they didn’t pay much mind to him other than reminding him not to touch anything, as his presence near you had become commonplace.

However, on one particular day, 10 found that your room was already occupied by someone else. 10 had heard a familiar yet muffled voice coming from inside, yet he could not make out the exact words from outside in the hallway. Carefully padding closer to the room, the child strained his ears to make out the words. It sounded like the person was talking to another, like a conversation, only that it seemed one-sided since 10 could only distinguish one voice. Finally, he got the courage to gently push the door open a bit more and peek to see who it was inside.

It wasn’t merely a segment there to check on you, no, this time it was Prime Dottore himself, sitting near your side in the same chair that the child always sat in. The child was surprised - he rarely ever saw Prime outside of his lab or office, and when he did, it was usually when Prime was forced to attend to certain Fatui duties. Of course, he never paid much attention to his child segment. Unfortunately, 10 had stared a bit too much, as the original quickly noticed his presence and immediately got up from the seat. 10 jumped a bit too, instinctively pulling back and hiding against the wall. But it was too late.

“Come in.” 10 had no option other than to comply, as he shyly stepped into your room, still clinging to the wall. The child nervously swallowed as he scrambled for an excuse as to why he was intruding.

“Um… I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were in here,” 10 apologized meekly, hands behind his back as his eyes flicked from Dottore’s face to the floor. The older man’s expression was unreadable, and it was silent for a good few moments before he spoke.

“I see,” was all Dottore said before he started walking toward 10, or rather, the door. The child looked up at the figure that had now gone past him, words leaving his mouth before he could think.

“Were you talking to [Name]? Do you miss them too?” Now that 10 thought about it, he had heard all about what the other segments had to say about you, but he still didn’t know the original’s feelings. Still, the child was surprised at himself for being able to ask Prime that. At the question, Dottore stopped in his tracks, seemingly contemplating whether he should respond or dismiss him before he turned around and faced his child segment, who then stiffened at the direct look.

“I hear that you’re with them quite often.” 10’s eyes widened at the response and nodded, although it wasn’t really an answer to his questions. “[Name] enjoys your company.” This only served to confuse the child even more, as he then glanced at your body. (For only Dottore knows about the time he found you asleep with a smile after the little boy left your room.)

“They… do? How do you know?” But when 10 looked back, Dottore was already gone. Well, he knew not to expect much conversation from him anyway, but still, he was greatly curious at his words. Regardless, 10 then walked up to you and made himself comfy near your bedside.

“Why do you like him so much, [Name]?” 10 inquired, playing with your fingers as he rested his cheek on your body. But of course, he received no answer from the person he was closest with yet farthest away from in this lab.

Even at the end of all of this, 10 still wasn’t exactly sure of what to think of you, having not had a real conversation with you yet, but he thought you seemed really cool, even while hooked up to a machine.

III. close

Change was not something 10 was familiar with. He was stuck as a kid forever, he was stuck in the lab, unable to leave like the other segments, he was stuck with the same toys and stories and other various pastimes that had long grown boring. So, the excitement of the unpredictable was something sorely lacking in the child’s life. Not to mention, the lab was a pretty dark place, both figuratively and literally. Although the boy was used to it, he wished it would be a bit more lively.

And after countless years of wishing, his wish finally came true. You, the mysterious sleeping grown-up that he only heard stories about, [Name], had finally woken up from centuries-long slumber. 10 was, to put it in a child’s simple words, “super happy”, but anyone else could see that his feelings went beyond that. However, despite 10’s great desire to meet you, he had decided to wait a bit, just to observe you.

The child followed you around, looking at you from afar, always slipping away before you could notice his presence. Seeing you up and walking around was so different from the once unmoving body he was so accustomed to. He listened to your voice. He watched you relearn so many things. He saw how sweetly you interacted with the other segments, and how keen they were for your touch, how they would tend to you on your weaker days. The child had never seen anything like it. 10 would have never believed the amount of change one mere person could bring. Meanwhile, the segments remained indifferent to the boy.

The more 10 watched you, the more he finally wanted to bask in your attention too. But the boy was scared. He remembered all the other adults in his life, from the village, and how they all looked and treated him with contempt. Could you be like that too? He wanted to think the answer was no, from how kind you seemed, but all the adults were so nice to the others except for him.

But maybe, maybe this time, it could be different. Everyone else approved of you after all. 10 wanted to trust you.

For once, his trust was not betrayed. After 10 finally introduced himself to you, you had given him so much attention it made his head spin. Your gentle and loving yet not overbearing demeanor. The way you listened to him seriously and reciprocated the energy, taking part in his childish activities. He was enthralled, to say the least.

You, on the other hand, were initially mystified by the appearance of the child. Not just any child, Dottore’s child self. Just to let that sink in, you had to keep repeating it to yourself. 10 was Dottore’s child self. He was him as a kid. What you were looking at was the embodiment of Zandik as a little boy. You couldn’t really believe your eyes at first. But he was real. Very real, from his higher-pitched voice (that was a really sharp contrast to Omega, for example) to his childlike demeanor and innocence.

The whole deal with the segments already took a bit for you to get accustomed to, but this was sort of new territory for you. After all, even though you’d known Dottore for so long, his childhood was something that came up rather infrequently. You chose not to pry further when you learned of how poorly he was treated as a child and instead offered him comfort in other ways. It had always made your heart ache and you wished you could do something more about it, to soothe his pain even just a bit. But now you quite literally had him in front of you, in a way. Quickly, your mind began working and formulating something.

Maybe… maybe you could help him by helping 10.

Sure, it sounded a bit stupid and probably useless at first, but there was no harm in trying. If anything else, you would be making 10 smile. From what you could infer, his life within this lab was far too dour for your liking.

Regardless, all those hours flew by in the blink of an eye, so much so that it felt like a dream. Was it, 10 wondered. But then the next day he found you eagerly waiting for him so you could spend more time with him. And the next. And the following day. And next week. Next month. And by then, he and the other were no longer merely numbers, but rather, they had names bestowed upon them, to truly identify them as individuals. 

And so, 10 had become Zandy. The difference between his past and present self was just as stark as the name change. It wasn’t just him, either. The other segments seemed different too with you around, in a good way. In all honesty, the young boy thought you were magical because he thought this kind of reality would only be possible in fairy tales. Needless to say, Zandy admired you greatly and sought you out quite frequently. 

He was happy to have you help him with his various assignments - to which your eyes nearly popped out when you saw the length and difficulty of some of the questions. You did help him, despite your shaky hands, but most of the time you stole him away to do much more fun things, that were “more important” according to you. The segments kept their thoughts to themselves unless they wanted to hear you gently scold them. It was amazing, Zandy thought.

The conversation of love had happened one day when you were putting him to bed after a long day. It had become a sort of routine for the two of you. You liked it because why wouldn’t you, it was the cutest thing ever. Zandy liked it because of how nice you were even when he really didn’t want to sleep yet, always indulging him with a story or a warm glass of milk. The segments liked it because they didn’t need to deal with him. 

“[Name], you love the segments, right?” Zandy had noticed that the word ‘love’ came out of your mouth rather frequently, compared to the other blue-haired men. You blinked at the question.

“Yes, I do. Why?” You asked as you tucked him in for the night alongside his Ruin Guard plushies (that you extorted the segments for.)

“All of them?”

“Of course.”

“Omega and Beta and Alpha and Delta and Zeta and-” His words were stopped by your laughter.

“Yes, dear. And Theta and Psi and Epsilon and- you don’t need me to list out all of their names, right?” Zandy shook his head but he still had another question for you.

“How much love do you have in you, [Name]?” The child couldn’t help but wonder how you did it - loving that many people seemed like a lot of work. You chuckled at the question.

“Very, very, much. You cannot put a quantity to love. It just happens when I’m surrounded by so many lovely people,” you kissed the boy on his forehead. “And that goes for you too. I love you very much, Zandy.” The child’s eyes widened as he fell silent, to which you questioned.

“Zandy? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he mumbled, his words further muffled by how he had now pulled the blanket over his head. You quickly connected the dots. He had probably never been told before that he was loved. You moved your hand under the blankets until you could feel one of his tiny hands, and then intertwined your fingers with the child’s.

“Hey, no need to lie to me, dear. You don’t have to hide around me,” you tried to gently soothe Zandy and coax him out when he spoke again.

“How do you know?”

“How do I know what?”

“That you love me.” His head popped back out of the blanket as he stared at you with big, uncertain eyes, but you only smiled in response.

“Well… for me, it’s simple. It brings me great joy to see you happy and smiling, and I want to make sure you continue to do so. I want to protect you, and I don’t ever want to see you hurt or sad. I want to make sure all of your wishes and dreams come true, and I want to keep you safe.” You said as you stroked Zandy’s hair. (You would have said that you loved him just as any parent would love their son, but you knew that with his experiences… it may not have been the most efficient.) Zandy’s lowered his eyes as he began to chew on his lip in thought.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever loved anyone before, [Name].” Zandy thought back to his parents, people whom he thought he loved, but now that he had you around, he realized that his feelings for them were nothing compared to what you made him feel. Loved. 

“That’s quite alright. Love is a beautiful thing, but it isn’t easy. What matters is that one tries.” That was a lesson all the segments could use. It was a bit confusing for Zandy, but somehow, he felt he understood.

“I see…” The sleepiness had finally fully hit Zandy as his eyes began to droop.

“Now, go to sleep. You don’t want to wake up tired tomorrow.” The child nodded and snuggled more under the cover. “Sweet dreams, dear.” You squeezed his hand before kissing his forehead one last time, and then getting up to turn off the light. As the room turned dark, you heard a small voice from behind you.

“I… love you, [Name].” It was quiet enough that if you weren’t paying attention, you might not have heard it, but you found his shyness endearing.

“I love you too, my child.” You smiled before exiting Zandy’s room, leaving him to have wonderful dreams, and then you were slightly startled by the man waiting outside for you. Dottore, rather, Prime Dottore himself. Zandik.

“Dottore. You’re here. I’ve missed you!” Your surprise quickly morphed into happiness as you saw the person you loved. He looked pleased to see you as well, as you linked your arm around his. “I hope I didn’t keep you too long. I was putting Zandy to bed.”

“I am aware. You do so every day.” You giggled, a little bit embarrassed.

“Well, someone needs to. You know, you should join us! We could always use another playmate.”

“I believe you are far more suited to the task than I am. Moreover, how have you been feeling as of late? It seems you have more energy than usual.” The way he quickly changed the conversation didn’t go unnoticed by you. You had told yourself that you wanted to help Dottore by helping Zandy, but it seemed to you that he rarely ever interacted, or even wanted to interact with the child. Dottore didn’t talk to his segments much in general, but he still had to for experiments and general Fatui business. Zandy, however, was the exception. It did hurt your heart to see it happen.

Back in your room, you had some thinking to do.

Now that you thought about it, you should have seen this coming. It made a lot of sense for Dottore to behave like this. You knew his feelings toward his childhood, towards himself in fact. But was it right? Was it fair? Of course not, at least in your opinion. However, you didn’t know what Zandy thought about this. You had yet to see the two together, and you had never asked him about Prime either. 

You wondered what your lover thought when he heard of you and Zandy together, you hugging and showering him in affection. Did he like it? Was he annoyed? Or did he not care, maybe something else? You always prided yourself on being able to comprehend him but…

This wasn’t going to be easy.

But you would see it to the end.

IV. complex

You often enjoyed taking walks around the lab. It was a good pastime and a way to keep your body active, not to mention the times you’d bump into a segment and end up taking a little break with him. Although you enjoyed the time by yourself, it could be a bit too lonely sometimes, which was precisely why Zandy came along. 

You had found out that he knew every nook and cranny of this place like the back of his hand, having explored it for countless years as he had nothing better to do. Therefore, Zandy often showed you around the lab, more specifically, the unknown and harder-to-reach parts, also known as his favorite hiding spots. You were quite grateful for his assistance, as you were sure you’d never discover some of these places on your own. 

Zandy was a bundle of energy that you could handle, well, most of the time at least. Were it not for your illness, you would have matched it easily. You felt a bit bad about not being able to keep up with him, but the child never minded. Although he tended to run in the halls and drag you around, he always paid attention to whether you seemed to need a break. A real sweetheart, indeed. 

Today was one such day.

You and Zandy had already been in this area before, but it was so big you couldn’t complete it all in one day. The kid was eager to continue exploring with you, scampering in front of you and then jumping in place for you to catch up. You believed he was especially excited because, on one of these journeys, you two had discovered some sort of creature… or rather creatures lurking around. 

The corridors always had some darkness to them, so you had not noticed the black puff balls hiding until one of them popped open its singular red eye at you. You would have yelped if you weren’t in awe of the cuteness of the silly creature. Similarly, once Zandy followed your line of sight, stars appeared in his eyes as more black puff balls came out of nowhere, and began scurrying toward you. The singular blue strand of hair reminded you of someone. Your best guess was that it was one of Dottore’s failed experiments.

Before you could advise the child to be cautious of these pufflings, Zandy had scooped one up already and was petting it. At least they seemed to be friendly - they had even gifted you a couple of shiny things, tiny pieces of minerals. And you swore you caught sight of a fluffy blue thing with a tail peering from afar too that seemed to be too shy to approach. Perhaps Dottore would let you keep them as a pet if you asked?

You giggled to yourself as you finished reminiscing about that. You did hope you ran into those things again. Meanwhile, Zandy had already gone ahead, turning into another hall.

“Now Zandy, don’t run too fast before you trip and fall!” You called after him, increasing the pace of your steps to chase after him.

“Come on, all the Mr. Fluffies are wait-” Zandy’s joyful voice abruptly stopped. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before pushing yourself to jog a little faster. And that’s when you saw the reason why he had stopped - Dottore was standing over the little boy, the height difference so palpable that they both had to crane their neck to view the other. It seemed that Zandy bumped into him, but you were happy to see your two favorite people together. Perhaps this was a good chance to put another plan into action!

“Hello, Dottore. I’m glad to see you out of your office so much,” you greeted your lover with a pleasant smile. The man had no expression, while the boy hid his relief when he saw you. You tried not to bite your lip.

“I did not expect to see you here.”

“You know I like to take my daily walks, so Zandy here was just showing me some more places to go. But it looks like your secret spots aren’t so secret anymore, are they Zandy?” You chuckled light-heartedly, but when you looked down, you saw that the child was fidgeting with his fingers awkwardly, clinging onto your cling.

“Mhm.” Your smile fell.

“I see.” The two did not make eye contact, the tension suffocating. You cleared your throat.

“W-We could use another person to-”

“Unfortunately, I am preoccupied at the moment,” the Harbinger quickly dismissed your request. “However, do remember not to push yourself. Your body is still weak.”

“... Of course.”

“Good.” With a nod to you and without further eye contact to Zandy, he walked away. You held back a sigh before you ruffled the kid’s hair.

“Shall we continue?” Your smile didn’t reach all the way to your eyes, but you hoped Zandy wouldn’t realize. But before you could move, he spoke.

“Why do you like him so much, [Name]?” The child repeated the question he remembered asking you while you were still asleep. This time, however, he would finally get an answer. You crouched down to Zandy’s level, placing your hands on his shoulders as you pondered what to say. 

“I love Dottore because… he makes me feel loved too. For centuries, he’s treated me better than anyone else. His kindness may not be typical, but I still receive it happily. His sweetness is bitter, but the taste is pleasurable. His love isn’t ordinary, but it soothes me either way.”

“That makes sense.” Zandy knew that wasn’t a lie. He had seen how his creator treated you. “Then Prime must feel the opposite toward me.”

“That’s not true.” You frowned as you immediately shot down the thought, stroking Zandy’s cheek gently. “Dottore just-” Before you could finish, Zandy looked up at you with a wide, forced smile as he broke free from your hold.

“It’s okay, [Name]. It doesn’t bother me. Now let’s go, I want to find those puffy things again!” And then the child was off, and you were left with an aching heart.

That same night, you paid Dottore a visit, unwilling to be a bystander in this anymore. At least he was doing paperwork this time. It was easier to gain his attention than when he was doing an experiment.

“Dottore.”

“Hello, [Name].” The scholar didn’t look up from his work, as he was already used to you popping in and hanging around for a bit.

“Are you busy?”

“I-”

“Good. We need to talk.” Dottore paused and looked up at you for a moment, who had now stood in front of him, your hands balled on his desk. He took in the dissatisfied look and thin line in replace of your usual smile, before responding.

“About?”

“Why do you ignore Zandy so much?” You said plainly, not in the mood to beat around the bush. From the way his pen stopped, you think he knew this was coming eventually.

“I simply do not have time to entertain the whims of a child.”

“It has nothing to do with that! I-, this is just basic decency. It feels to me that your lack of consideration is on purpose. It is, isn’t it?” Dottore was silent, not even moving his pen.

“Answer me, Zandik.”

“He has you. It is enough.”

“It is not enough. Zandy is a child. He is hurt by you. You are hurting yourself, Zandik. Do you expect me to be okay with this?” Dottore’s pen had started moving again. Your palms hurt from your fingers digging into them so harshly. In a last-ditch effort, you attempted to speak to him using those terms he liked so much.

“Did you not create him to understand his perspective of everything? So, how do you plan to do that if you do not try to speak to him?” It seemed you were not going to let this go.

“I created my segments to observe their perspectives. To preserve it,” Dottore clarified. 

“Observe?” You laughed at that. “Pray tell, how will you do that if you don’t even try to be around the child for more than five seconds? And besides, merely observing never brings you the most satisfying results. I thought you of all people would understand that,” you quipped back. 

“Please, at least… at least tell me you’re going to try. Just try, even if it doesn’t work out,” you pleaded with your love. Unfortunately, your words could not reach him.

“It is late. You should go to sleep.” You gritted your teeth at his response.

“Fine. Then I will simply treat you the same way as you do with Zandy.” As he opened his mouth to defy your declaration, you quickly spoke again. “If you think I won’t do it, then you forgot the person I was in the Akademiya, and who I still am now. I do this because I love every single version of you, Zandik, more than anything else in this world. If you want to test my love, then by all means go ahead, but I doubt you’ll find even one possibility where you’ll be able to. Good night.” Your tone was hard and biting as you left without letting him get in another word.

Dottore could only watch as you stormed out, leaning back in his chair to rub his forehead as his mask clattered to the ground. Il Dottore was used to getting his way. Zandik, however, not so much, especially when you were in the picture. This perspective of yours was always… always something he struggled to understand.

Of course, the Harbinger learned very quickly that you would make good on your word. Instead of his name being called, he had to deal with his segments being asked for instead.

“Omega, please administer the medicine for me today.”

“Delta, could you come over here? I feel a bit unsteady on my feet.”

“Sigma, would you visit me before bed? I would like someone to chat with.”

“Beta, let’s go to your lab. I’m bored!”

You walked past him without a glance. You did not ask him anything. You did not refer to him. He was practically invisible to you. You knew that you were technically being more harsh to him than he was to Zandy, but you weren’t going to stop. You also hoped that helping Dottore to be kind to Zandy would eventually spread to the other segments too. The segments were initially baffled by the turn of events but quickly adjusted to it, although the look Prime gave them certainly wasn’t something they wanted to endure. It didn’t need to be said that Prime was awfully upset, despite his unbothered expression.

In the past, every time you had pulled a stunt or something after an argument, Dottore would find it amusing. He had a bad habit of being unyielding and refusing to admit he was in the wrong, and that was coupled with his idea that you were just being childish. But every time, you stuck it out until the end and refused to back down too. Eventually, he stopped finding it funny.

The stalemate went on for a while. Dottore’s bed had remained cold for far too long, no longer having the pleasant surprise of finding you on it sometimes. His office was silent, your visits becoming nonexistent. Despite how he chided you sometimes for bothering him, his mind had become preoccupied with thoughts of you and what you were doing. It wasn’t good for someone who had so much work to do, and for someone who hated giving in. This simply wouldn’t do.

At the very least, he could at least still follow you around to see your sweet smile and laughter. You just didn’t know. However, it seemed every time he longed for you, you also happened to be with the kid. For a long time, every time he saw you be so sweet to the child, it felt like seeing an impossibility become a possibility, and yet he tried his best to ignore it. He knew how fond you were of his child segment, well, Zandy as you’ve come to call him, and he… he just didn’t…know how to feel.

Yet now he felt himself somehow drawn to the scene, in a strange way. Was it because he liked seeing you happy, and the child seemed to bring out your brightest smiles? Was it because seeing his child segment like this wasn’t something he’d ever witnessed before? Was it because he himself had never been treated so kindly as a child, and yet now he was watching it happen in front of him? Was it because his deepest wishes that he buried with his childhood self were now becoming reality? Dottore ignored the answers to his own questions, attempting to finish a report that was long overdue for Pantalone, but his mind continued to wander about what he had witnessed.

Dottore remembers when he overheard you and Zandy having dinner.

You and Zandy were sitting across from each other eating. Well, it was more like you trying to convince the child to eat at least a few of his vegetables.

“Zandy, at least eat a few. You don’t need to finish it all,” you gently urged the child. “How else are you going to become big and strong?” 

“But they’re yucky,” he pouted. You chuckled.

“Perhaps I need to experiment more… I will find a way to prepare it in a way you like, my child. But for now, if you eat a bit more, I’ll… give you my dessert!” Zandy perked up at your words while stabbing the dreaded green thing with his fork.

“Deal!” He exclaimed while forcing the vegetable into his mouth (eating with his ‘family’ for once.)

Dottore remembers when he overheard you and Zandy playing a game.

You had recently purchased a game from abroad to pass the time. It had four surfaces and numerous columns that you needed to place small, medium, or large gears on. The objective was to place the right gears at the right locations in order to get them all going. Although you originally bought it for yourself, Zandy was quite excited by the idea, and you were never going to turn down an opportunity to challenge his brain. Within reason, of course.

In the end, you were content with simply watching the child play with the gears and figure out the answer by himself, or with small hints from you.

“Would you look at that! You’ve already finished all of the levels, and we’ve only started today… I didn’t even need to be here since you’ve got such a smart brain up there,” you teased, tapping Zandy’s forehead playfully. He blushed slightly.

“That’s not true. Your advice was really helpful, [Name]!”

“Perhaps, but your own thoughts were already more than enough. I would like to hear them more often.” The child glowed at the idea of you listening to him (instead of shunning him.)

“Okay!”

Dottore remembers when he overheard you reading Zandy a book.

You had a tendency to invite Zandy over to your room often, considering how much Zandy liked it. He marveled at the size and all your decorations, and the collections of your interests (how you had gotten Dottore to fund this was beyond the child’s imagination.) Not to mention, how soft and fluffy your numerous pillows were. Tonight, you were reading him a story, the child lying back against your chest as you held the storybook in front of you two. 

“Alright, I think that’s enough for tonight,” you said as you stifled a yawn, and you also noticed Zandy was doing the same. “We can continue tomorrow.”

“Okay…” Zandy mumbled tiredly enough not to put up a fight. You put the book to the side and turned off the lights (with a remote, courteously created by Dottore for the days you couldn’t get out of bed.) Pulling up the blankets, you were about to wish the boy good night when he spoke.

“[Name]?”

“Yes?”

“I always have lots of fun when I’m with you but… do I bother you too much? I know you’re probably busy and you also have your illness and-”

“Zandy. I love spending time with you. And even if I am busy, I will always make time for you, no matter what,” you promised the boy (unlike that man and woman who left him forever alone.)

“Oh…”

“See? So don’t ever feel bad about it,” you reassured Zandy, which left him with only the sweetest of dreams to dream.

Dottore remembers when he overheard you gently lecturing Zandy.

Children are pure-hearted and innocent, and even Dottore was once a child. It wasn’t hard to see that Zandy and his other older selves were starkly different. The former was kind and sweet, and the latter… well, you didn’t need to say it out loud. But the main point was that you didn’t need to worry too much about Zandy hiding stuff from you. Once you broke down his walls, he was a very open and honest child. Ninety-nine percent of the time, you’d say. But of course, children were children.

You had left the child in the kitchen while you went to retrieve a new cookbook the Eleventh Harbinger had gifted you, wanting to try out some new dishes especially since Zandy was interested. When you got back, however, you noticed that his face seemed a bit flushed and nervous, and his hands were in his pockets.

“Zandy? Everything alright?”

“Um, yeah!” His voice sounded a bit odd, and you squinted at him while he avoided eye contact. You’ve dealt with Dottore who was a smooth, easy talker that could spin lies like nothing. Zandy, on the other hand, was too easy to see through.

“Are you sure?” The boy nodded in response, probably so his voice wouldn’t betray him again. “Show me your hands.” But he only had a child’s level of lying, from the way his eyes gave it away.

“But-”

“Now.” Zandy very reluctantly showed you his hand, and you then saw one of his fingers was dripping blood. Your heart sank.

“You’re bleeding? I- What happened?!” You rushed him over to the sink and began washing it, while your other hand rummaged through the cabinets for some cotton or bandages.

“I wanted to be h-helpful and get the stuff out for you. But I dropped a plate and it broke and I tried to clean it up and I cut myself,” Zandy mumbled, clearly not wanting to admit his mistake. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You were already used to seeing your own blood drawn, but Zandy was a different story. Seeing your child hurt had made you dizzy and uneasy, even if it was just a cut.

“... I thought you would be mad.” Zandy’s voice was but a whisper, and your eyes softened.

“And why would I be mad at you?”

“B-Because I broke something…” You sighed as you placed the bandage around his tiny finger.

“But it was just an accident, right? Accidents happen, and furthermore, we have dozens of plates. I would never be mad at something as simple as that. And I care far more for your well-being rather than a mere plate. So next time, please don’t lie to me. Okay, Zandy?” You said gently but firmly, as you finished treating his finger (a far cry from what his punishment used to be, living in that house.)

“Okay, [Name]...” The boy hugged you afterward, blinking back his tears on your shirt so you wouldn’t see them.

Dottore remembers when he overheard you talking to Zandy about him.

The stand-off between you and Dottore had gone on long enough for even Zandy to realize, even though you tried to keep him out of the loop. You should have guessed that the child was going to ask you eventually.

“[Name], are you and Prime fighting?” The question came out of nowhere, surprising you but you hoped it didn’t show.

“We are just having a… disagreement, dear. Nothing to worry about. And no, it isn’t about you or anyone else. It is just a personal thing between us,” you added before Zandy could inquire. You hoped he didn’t feel guilty.

“Do you miss him?

“Of course.”

“Then why fig- disagree so much?”

“Zandy, some things in life can only be resolved with disagreements. You’re not going to see eye to eye with everyone, even those you love. But they’re necessary so that you can move on and grow stronger together,” you explained. “Neither of us enjoys having spats… even though he treats them like a joke sometimes,” the last part was mumbled under your breath, “but we do get through them every time, and although it’s definitely not easy, it’s worth it.” Zandy blinked thoughtfully at your response, (an unconventional depiction of healthy love, rather than the conventional portrayal of an unhealthy one he once knew.)

“You’re really strong, [Name].” 

“Strong? Not anymore. Patient? Yes,” you laughed, for you are the only one capable of loving a heretic.

Dottore remembers an awful lot, for someone who supposedly doesn’t care. He remembers all the moments you’ve spent with his child self, from when you were sleeping to when you woke up to the ones he heard through his segments. What you’ve introduced into Zandy’s life is the opposite of what Zandik’s life was like. Sheer love, to put it simply, even someone like him can see it, as he is no idiot. Dottore denies wanting to be accepted, and yet he is watching himself be accepted as he longed for. It makes him feel…

Regardless, this sort of mind wandering was no good for the Harbinger, especially the type where you have forced him to dwell about the child he is and isn’t. Before he knew it, the report sat untouched in front of him for a period of time.

Truly no good, and that is why his feet automatically move to find you once more. In truth, he hadn’t decided what he was going to say to you yet - whether to admit that in his heart he has yielded to you but his words will probably be the opposite. 

It wasn’t hard to find you. You were usually in your room or a segment’s, or with a segment himself, minus the times you decided to take walks. At this time though, you’d probably be with the child.

Dottore was right. But it wasn’t quite what he had expected.

You and Zandy had fallen asleep… on the floor, hands barely brushing each other. Dottore sighed at the sight - at least it was rugged and not wooden. The cold wouldn’t have been good for either of you.

(Either of you?)

He made his way over to the two of you, bending down to move you to the bed. He first pulled your body to his chest with ease before his gaze flicked to the child next to you. His breath stills, hand hesitantly hovering over Zandy, fingers twitching with unease. 

(Since when did he, the Second Harbinger, one that could very well be compared to a God, hesitate? This was foolish. It didn’t mean anything.)

And then Zandik slid his arm around the boy, bringing him into his chest too, and then rose to put you two comfortably to bed. He never thought he would ever tuck his child segment in, but here he was anyway.

It made him feel a little sick, the unfamiliar sensation along his fingertips and heart and mind.

But Dottore can’t resist giving you a kiss, having missed your lips for so long, which makes him feel a bit better. He’ll always have you, his beloved.

He should leave you two to rest properly, but he finds himself drawn to the scene in front of him. The ill feeling still remains somewhere, but a warmth that he wouldn’t name had started spreading too.

As he makes his way to leave the room, he dares not to look at the drawings scattered around, for they are persistent in portraying him as what he is not. In the poor scribbles, he is not a Harbinger, not a scholar or a scientist, nor a monster or the Doctor or Dottore in them.

He is just a man, one who can succumb to the side of him he so constantly rejects.

V. clumsy

You wouldn’t have believed last night happened if you weren’t there. But it did - you couldn’t sleep after you felt his warm embrace, but more importantly, after he held Zandy. You hadn’t even expected him to talk to the child so quickly, much less hold him so tenderly (even if that wasn’t his intention.) When it came to this kind of stuff, it was never easy to change his mind.

Needless to say, you were pleased but you knew he was never going to admit to it. However, you were still proud of him, and you were still determined to accomplish your goal.

Walking to Dottore’s office was something you had missed. When Zandy had asked you if you missed Dottore, the answer wasn’t just that you missed him - you longed for him, you yearned for his touch, you craved his presence. Such deep love was the reason why you wanted to help him.

When you get there, he’s preoccupied at his desk again. No matter how strong he may be, you still worry for his back sometimes. You should make some more snacks for him later too.

“Dottore,” you say as you walk in. The place was as boring-looking as it always is, the only decorations are the little trinkets you’ve gifted him that lay on his desk. His mouth opens to respond but he then immediately pauses, as he processes whose voice he’s hearing. He takes a few moments to study you as you continue to walk up to his desk, now standing in front of him just as you were the last time you were here.

“Hello, [Name].” He doesn’t show how nice it is to hear your voice again after so long, even though he has dealt with it for over four hundred years.

“Hello, Dottore. And how have you been?” Dottore watches you carefully with your line of questioning.

“As I’ve always have.” You hum in response as you glance at the papers on his desk, idly clicking and unclicking one of his numerous pens (that had yet to snap in half.) “I’ve heard your report for Pantalone is late. Is something occupying your mind, perhaps?”

“There is no such thing. The information is simply-”

“You know, I saw you last night, Zandik.” Your words cut him off as you watch his shoulders tense, and then relax. “I saw what you did.”

“I… see.” He probably knew it was futile to deny the claim. “And?” He watched as you walked around to his chair, your eyes glancing to his lap and back to his eyes as if asking for permission. He motioned for you to come closer, and you settled down on his lap, legs hooked over to the side. You were silent for a few moments before you reached for his large hand and held it with yours, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles.

“I won’t ask you to explain anything to me,” you began. “I… I don’t want to sound like I’m pitying you, I know you despise that, Zandik.” He remained silent. “But we,” you stressed on that word, “we can still make things right. It’s not too late to change things, no matter what’s happened before,” you said softly as you cupped Dottore’s cheek, caressing it gently. Your lover remained silent as he continued to look at you, his hand reaching to intertwine with your own.

“I remember every time your perspective clashed with mine,” he replied. You tried to ignore your rapid heartbeat. “And I remember the end result was that you were always right, and I was too stubborn. Yet you always pushed me to see it your way regardless.” Dottore’s hand rested on top of your head, stroking your hair as he considered his next words.

“Maybe this time I shall save myself the time and energy and listen to you instead.” You could have fainted, hearing Dottore admit that to you. Your mouth opened and closed, trying to find something to respond with, but there was nothing else you could do other than smile, ignoring the prick of tears in your eyes, and the way your breathing stuttered.

“... Thank you, Zandik. Thank you,” you whispered, nuzzling your face into his chest.

“However, I must say I may not be up to your-”

“You will,” you quickly interrupted. “You will be. You can do this, with me of course. We’ll take it slow and easy of course, I know this is quite hard and you’re busy and-” you continued to reassure him while squeezing his hand and nodding passionately, while he watched amused.

“I question where your confidence comes from.” You smiled, for that was an easy question.

“Because you are no monster, Zandik. Not to me, at least, the person who knows you better than anyone else. And even if the world views you as one, well… I suppose we would be two monsters together. That’s not too bad, right?” You chuckled, and he couldn’t help but smile a bit too.

“Perhaps you could be right.”

From then on, it was certainly a journey. An exhausting and long one to say the least. But it was also a rewarding one.

Obviously, even though he had given you his word, real life was different from the fantasy you wished for. There were still his overwhelming duties as a Harbinger, there were many days he didn’t even have time for you. And you - there were many days your illness left you far too tired to move around or even speak to anyone. And of course, Il Dottore was not going to change his ways overnight. It was hard dealing with him sometimes. There were still arguments. Clashes. Annoyance. It was never easy to mesh differentiating perspectives into one. 

Still, nothing was enough to deter you or your love for him.

a. the potential attempt

The first step was to get them to be in the same space. Not even closely or with interaction, just to get them comfortable enough with each other. When you proposed the idea to Zandy, the baffled look on his face nearly made you laugh. He initially didn’t want to, which you could understand, but you played it off as wanting to spend time with both of them, considering how Dottore was frequently busy. Getting Zandy to agree wasn’t that hard, considering how much he loved you, but you still felt a bit bad. But this was for a good cause!

You were accustomed to chilling wherever Dottore was without fear. Zandy, on the other hand, was not the same. He spoke quietly and always flickered his eyes to see where and what Dottore was doing.

“Zandy, you don’t need to worry about him. Nothing’s going to happen.” 

“But…” 

“Trust me. I bet he can’t even hear us right now,” you nudged him to look at the older man. “See that look on his face? How hard he’s gripping his pen and how fast he’s writing? That’s how you know he’s so incredibly focused, he tunes out the rest of the world.” Still, the child didn’t look too convinced by your words, so you decided to prove it.

“Dottore, I made you some baklava,” you said rather loudly, yet there was no response. Zandy looked surprised now, you both knew how much Dottore enjoyed Sumerian desserts. “And, I brewed you a new pot of coffee.” His pen continued to scribble across the paper, as you then turned to Zandy.

“See? No need to feel so cautious.” Zandy’s shoulders seemed to relax until you spoke again. “Now you try it.”

“Me?!” Zandy whisper-yelled, looked as if you had asked him to commit a crime.

“Yes, you dear. How else will you get comfortable with him?” The child pouted and nuzzled into your arm, seeing as you weren’t going to give up. He chewed on his lip and he began to speak.

“I… Prime…,” Zandy tried to think of something, anything, “Prime… I ate your sweets!” The child immediately regrets it at record speed, anxiously hiding behind you.

“... My, my, how bold. Even I wouldn’t say that.” Zandy peeked out behind you and saw his creator was still diligently writing, and breathed a sigh of relief. “See, not that bad, right?” The boy nodded, but his mind wandered.

“[Name], I didn’t eat his sweets.” You cocked your head at his statement. “... But I think Beta did.”

“Oh dear. I suppose it’s time to get a lock on that fridge now… and then we need to make some more before-” At that moment, a snapping sound from the side made you two jump.

Ah. Dottore had finally broken his pen. Well, that one lasted longer than usual. You and Zandy watched with held breath as Dottore scowled and cast the broken utensil to the side, before looking at each other and trying to hold in laughter, avoiding the Harbinger’s eye contact and returning to what you two were previously doing. The man looked at your giggling faces with confusion.

“Is something the matter?”

“Not at all, love. Not at all,” you smiled, but by the fact that even his child segment seemed to be giggling, he knew you said something. (He ignores how foreign the laughter of the child sounds to him.)

Regardless, he sends you a look before shaking his head and returning to work (with a new pen.)

b. the awkward attempt

One of the moments that captured your heart was when Zandy walked in on Dottore giving you one of your shots. Needles weren’t unfamiliar to you anymore, and although they scared you (and still did, to be honest), thankfully Dottore and the segments had enough patience to make it as painless as possible. Zandy, however, never really saw the checkups or anything related because you really didn’t want to worry the child about your illness. But you supposed it would happen eventually. 

The atmosphere had suddenly turned a bit awkward with Zandy now standing at the door, eyes on the rather large needle that sat on the tray, that was definitely going into none other than you. From his wide eyes, you could tell it probably wasn’t what he was expecting to see. Of course, needles, especially a big one like Dottore was holding, would scare any child his age.

“O-Oh! Zandy, you can wait outside for a few minutes. You don’t need to watch,” you explained, while Dottore stood silently next to you as he prepped the area of your arm. The child seemed conflicted for a few moments before he decided to walk closer to you and the Harbinger.

“No, it’s okay. I… want to see,” Zandy said. In reality, the boy knew you hid certain things from him and wished to know the truth. He wanted to know how badly you were hurt, maybe he could try and do something for you. (Perhaps this too, is a side effect of teaching him what love is.)

“You do? Well… I guess I won’t stop you then,” you said, a bit confused but you wouldn’t just send him away. Dottore placed a hand on your shoulder and got you to relax again for him. Meanwhile, Zandy had come up to the opposite side and looked at you with slightly worried eyes.

“Is it going to hurt, [Name]?”

“Well, it does prick a bit, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. It’s the same as any other shot,�� you tried to reassure him as his gaze became downcast. You bit your lip nervously, about to give him a solution, when out of nowhere Dottore himself spoke.

“Physical and emotional support from another party often makes the procedure less painful for the recipient,” he said in a monotone as if he wasn’t speaking to either of you at all. You and Zandy blinked at him before he continued. “I’m going to start the injection now.” Suddenly, it seemed like Zandy understood the message, as the child then grabbed your hand, and squeezed it with his much tinier one.

“You can do this, [Name]!” His instant enthusiasm distracted you from the prick of the needle, but also the fact that Dottore technically spoke to Zandy, encouraging him even. It was simply adorable.

“Zandy, I-” 

“You know, there was one time I fell while-”

“Oh wow-”

“But I was okay because-”

“I see-” You had decided to continue smiling and nodding at the child’s attempt to distract you from the shot until he abruptly stopped, his eyes flickering to where Dottore had now finished bandaging the area.

“Ah, it’s finished,” you breathed a sigh of relief and deflated on the chair, but Zandy still had a load of energy for you to entertain.

“You didn’t even look a bit scared, [Name]!” You grinned and ruffled his hair.

“Why, I doubt anything in this world could scare me when I have my lovely son and husband with me,” you smiled as you kissed Zandy’s forehead, which he beamed at while Dottore turned away to clean up, an attempt to ignore how the scene made his chest feel.

A family, huh?

What a strange thing.

c. the successful attempt

You were quite proud of the progress Zandy and Dottore had made together, but still, the most important part remained. Now that you had gotten them to be in the same room with each other, you wanted them to at least manage a few short conversations. That was the biggest and most difficult part of this whole thing, but starting small was always the key. And so you decided to somewhat ‘force’ them into such situations. How? By just making the child run errands for you. (Sure, you could have let things run their natural course, but with these two, they definitely needed some kind of push.)

An easy way to make Dottore lighten up was to cook something yummy for him, with bonus points if it was something from his homeland. So that was what you and Zandy did - whipped up a bunch of samosas and even a pita pocket (since you knew he had definitely been skipping meals, much to your dismay.) You had packaged them nicely in a container for him to eat at his leisure and instructed Zandy to deliver them. He seemed less nervous than before but still a bit on edge, nevertheless determined to fulfill your wishes, as he soon found himself in Prime’s office. The man seemed surprised. The child avoided eye contact. The room was silent, without you to act as a middleman.

But Dottore decided to begin.

“Did you need something?” Zandy perked up at the acknowledgment and quickly began walking to his desk, slightly standing up on his tippy-toes to push the container of food in front of his creator.

“[Name] and I made this for you. They said you need to eat more or they’ll get mad again,” the child repeated your words verbatim, trying to gauge Dottore’s reaction. The scholar’s hands glided against the plastic, looking at the tasty treats that lay inside.

“I see. Thank you.” He began to set them to the side before Zandy spoke again.

“Um, they also want you to try one.” Dottore paused. Of course you would say that, he sighed.

“Very well.” He opened the container and picked out a samosa, the snack still warm. He ignored how enticing it was to his stomach and began to lift it to his mouth when he stopped and pushed the box closer to his child segment. Zandy looked at him with curious eyes and he motioned for him to take one. Happily, the boy indulged his request and popped the samosa into his mouth, which Dottore soon followed suit, the two savoring the flavors of your delicious and homey cooking.

“How would you say that was?” He questioned Zandy. The child still had trouble he was being acknowledged so much but responded in kind.

“The most delicious thing ever!”

“I would say the same.” And that was the end of the conversation, as Dottore returned to his work and Zandy scurried away, both content with the conclusion. Dottore’s answers may have been short and swift, but it was progress.

By now Dottore had caught onto your little game, while Zandy was just happy to be helpful to you. There were a lot of other instances where you sent him to Dottore - to fetch some medication, to bring Dottore a letter (that totally didn’t just have three words on it), to bring him some new writing utensils, and much more. The occurrences were all short, but they were beginning to grow a lot less awkward. You were happy.

This time you asked Zandy to fetch a book from Dottore, which was actually a legitimate request this time. He really wanted to learn more about those Ruin Machines, and you figured it would be a lot easier if you had a book as a reference. (Dottore had not yet gotten used to the Zandy’s appearances, still a bit stiff and unsure about the whole thing. But they weren’t unwelcome visits, no, they were starting to become a constant in his life.)

Zandy, on the other hand, had already started to feel much better about interacting with Prime Dottore, thanks to your words and Dottore’s much better actions. The once dreaded path to his office had now become a lot more lighthearted. Sure, he was still a bit tense sometimes, but he thinks most people are that way around Dottore (except you, you’re special), so when he finally makes it to his creator’s office once more he’s not too scared. The older man doesn’t seem to be surprised at his visits anymore.

“And what request do you come to me for today?”

“[Name] and I need a book.” Dottore’s eyes widened. You knew the kind of books he had were… well, inappropriate for some eyes. “A book about Ruin Machines and Guards and Graders and Hunters and their parts and designs and all that cool stuff!”

“I see.” Well, that made more sense. The Harbinger got up from his seat to retrieve a book on that topic, when a sudden and uncharacteristic thought came over him. He did enjoy reading books, as they were a wondrous source of information, but he still far preferred hands-on learning. He wondered if… if perhaps his younger self would prefer that too right now. 

No, he knew Zandy would, he was literally him when he was a kid, but the question was whether Dottore was up to this or not. A while ago, this situation would have been impossible. But now, it was a possibility, an outcome that only Dottore could choose to achieve. He stared at Zandy, who had begun to get a bit nervous at the strange attention.

“If you’re busy-”

“Would you prefer it if I showed you instead, rather than simply viewing pictures?”

“Like the actual machines?” Zandy’s eyes glowed with excitement.

“No, just the parts. But I believe it will be more interesting than only examining them in a book.” He could already hear you in his ear if he decided to let the child near those things, especially without you. Zandy only felt a moment of disappointment before he quickly bounced back.

“Please! I want to see the parts! Can I touch them too? Will you show me what they do?” His barrage of questions was sudden, but the scientist found himself enjoying them. After all, if no one else will indulge his curiosity, then he must do so himself, no matter what age he is.

(Although he’s only a few minutes into the explanation, his younger self’s eyes glimmer with a brightness he’s never seen, or at least never noticed before. Were his eyes always this red? You always compliment the color of his, but he can’t seem to remember his eyes ever having such a radiant gleam. He ignores it, for he’s sure his own eyes were never like that as a child.)

Meanwhile, you were left wondering why the boy had been gone so long. Did something happen? You decided to make your way over to Dottore’s office when you heard the voices spilling out of the ajar door. A young and chirpy one, and an old and tired one, and yet they both seemed equally as excited about whatever the subject matter was.

Peeking in, you were beyond surprised to see your husband and child sitting next to each other, a variety of mechanical parts surrounding the two. Zandy was examining one while Dottore rambled on about it, yet in a logically sound way that even a child could understand. You remember the same thing happening to you back in the Akademiya. 

Your heart beat excitedly at this discovery. The way they seemed comfortable with each other, despite their strained relationship from a while ago… in fact, perhaps you could say it looked like a father and his son. All that was missing was the other parent. But should you ruin the moment? You wanted it to last forever…

Unfortunately, staring for too long had attracted the attention of Zandy, who brightened even more at your presence, and quickly waved you over, which also alerted Dottore. Well, there was no hiding anymore, as you began to walk towards the two you loved the most.

“Well well, lucky you, Zandy. To get a lesson from none other than Dottore in Automatons! But oh, I am a bit hurt. Are my teaching skills not up to par for you two?” You teased them lightheartedly, which Zandy giggled at, and Dottore scoffed.

“Fa- Prime wanted to show me the stuff instead of us going through that huge book together. It’s much more fun this way! Oh, but I should have come and told you though… sorry.” Dottore didn’t say anything, but you didn’t need him to. You went to the opposite side of Zandy and sat down, wrapping your arm around him.

“Perhaps I too could be one of your students, Dottore? Zandy and I are eager to learn more!” Dottore let out a sigh at your antics.

“Then listen carefully, because I will not repeat myself to you.”

“How cruel!”

The laughter of two echoed throughout the room, while the other could only smile.

VI. coldness

You loved your family very much. That was obvious to anyone who saw you with them.

Pantalone who asked about how your son was faring, and if your husband would be able to produce sufficient results soon. Columbina who liked to play dress up with you and Zandy to wear matching outfits, while Dottore obviously refused to entertain her nonsense. Childe who couldn’t help but be fond of Zandy as well, tempted to introduce him to Teucer, but also greatly questioned your choice of husband (and father.) The Fatui agents who watched you squish the young segment’s cheeks and tease your imposing Harbinger husband in broad daylight. It was certainly something to see, and one wouldn’t believe it until they saw it with their own eyes.

Meanwhile, the segments had been onlookers on the whole thing.

You were sure each individual segment felt a bit differently about the situation, but the general feeling was probably jealousy. Jealousy toward Zandy for being able to take up so much of your attention. Well, that had always been the case since you’d met the child, but it increased a lot since your journey to help Dottore reconcile with his past self. You just hoped as the years went by, their attitude would change. If you had gotten Prime to change, then his segments weren’t impossible, right? You did see a few of them start to be a bit more patient with Zandy!

Regardless, you were more than happy with the outcome. Dottore and Zandy were talking to each other like normal human beings now. Sure, there were still moments where they were awkward and silent, which was to be expected considering how many years went by with their relationship nonexistent. 

Physical affection, however… well, it still had some work left. The only person he wanted to touch him was you since he had known you for so long. Even then, sometimes you couldn’t when he wasn’t in a good mood. So coming to terms with Zandy touching him so casually was still something to get used to. Still, he seemed to have gotten used to the hand brushing and even patted the child’s hair when he did well. On good days, perhaps the child would even be in his lap.

Still, now that you had helped create a bond between them, nothing could stop their progress. Nothing at all.

Dottore still never admitted the change in his feelings to you, but you didn’t need a concrete answer when his actions spoke louder. You lived for the new conversations that now occurred as a result of Zandy, like when he tells you about the time they spent together.

“I’ve heard that you’ve started teaching Zandy more now, Dottore.” (Trying to steal your role as a teacher again, huh?)

“Indeed. We have moved on to quantum physics as well as-” He continued to list off topics you definitely did not study as a child.

“How… enriching, I’m sure.” Perhaps you should start crashing the lessons to make sure he doesn’t overload the poor kid’s brain too much…

Or when you hear about how much they both care for you.

“[Name]?”

“Yes, Dottore?”

“How have you been feeling as of late?” His hands crept up around your neck, brushing his fingers along your collarbones.

“Fine. The same as always,” you responded, which was sort of a truth and lie. You were technically fine, but there had been more days lately that had been a slog to get through with your illness and all. You didn’t want to admit that though. Dottore dragged his fingers along your shoulders in response.

“That’s a lie.” Your face heated up a bit from the proximity.

“That’s not-”

“Zandy,” he began, the name still a bit foreign on his tongue, “told me you’ve barely been sleeping as late. And the tiredness makes it difficult for you to move around. Why didn’t you tell me?” You slumped a bit in your seat at the discovery. You didn’t think the child would know that much less tell Dottore.

“How did he know?”

“He can hear you rustling around in the bed all night,” your husband said flatly as you sighed.

“I’m sorry, love…”

“Next time, I would prefer to hear my spouse’s troubles from their lips rather than someone else. Now come here.”

Or the simpler silly conversations.

“Why did you name him that?” He said one day while lounging on your lap. It was one of those days when it was necessary for him to rant to you about everything and anything.

“Name who what?”

“... Zandy.” Hearing Dottore get used to the name was still amusing to you.

“Why not? There’s a reason why all the segments like their names now, you know. It’s cute, it fits him, he likes it, and it’s way better than what you did,” you teased. Dottore grumbled.

“I still believe there were better options.”

“Yes, yes, says the one who names every experiment with a few letters and numbers. Now continue telling me about Pantalone’s audacity.” 

You were happy. Zandy was happy. And you were pretty sure Dottore was happy too. Even through the toughest days, you knew that you had them, and that made things better. You believed nothing in the world would change that or take that away from you.

So when you heard that some of the segments were heading to Sumeru, you weren’t too worried. It was just another mission for them, and although the importance of this one was much higher, you had no doubt the segments would handle it with ease. The lab was emptier than normal, but at least that gave you more time to play with him. 

“[Name], why do we go and collect Gnoses?” Zandy was still unaware of quite a few things, as others were unwilling to explain the details of them.

“So that we can fight Celestia,” you hummed as you turned the page of the book. Currently, you two were reading a rather interesting fantasy story, and the two of you had gotten up to the most crucial part - whether the protagonist would choose to further his ambitions or save the one he cherished.

“Why do we need to fight them?”

“Because they’re bad people,” you said as simply as possible.

“When are we going to fight them?”

“I don’t know, but one day we will.”

“Is it going to be scary?”

“Yes, it will. But I will protect you, from now until the end of time, so there’s no need to worry.”

“Okay,” Zandy said, but he still looked a bit sad, naturally. You softly stroked his fluffy hair.

“Don’t dwell on it. You still have lots and lots of happy memories to make,” you soothed him and kissed his forehead. “Nothing bad will happen to you.”

“Thanks, [Name],” he cuddled more into your side as you continued to read the story aloud to him.

The days passed as they always did. Tests. Checkups. The bickering of segments. Dottore popped up here and there, still busy with the Sumeru mission even though he remained at the lab. As always, Zandy remained a constant in your life when everyone else was too busy for you, so you were happy.

It had happened in the middle of a nap when you were shaken awake furiously. When you regained consciousness, you first registered your body being tossed from side to side, and then the blinding light from above. Ugh. What time was it, you wondered, because your mind next processed the desperate voice next to you.

“[Name]! [Name], please, please wake up. Please, he’s going to-” The sheer fright in his voice was enough to jolt you back to reality. You quickly rubbed your eyes and pulled yourself up to face the boy. You wondered what could have happened for Zandy to be this frantic, but the look on his face made your throat close up.

Bright red eyes on the verge of tears, flushed face, quivering lip, and shaking body. A terrible feeling rested in the pit of your stomach as you were speechless for a moment before Zandy grabbed your hands again, begging you to say something.

“Zandy, s-slow down. Start from the beginning. What’s wrong? Who is going to do what?” You placed your hands on his shoulders, pulling him closer in an attempt to calm him. It didn’t seem to do much.

“Omega, Omega’s going to delete me for-”

“What?!” Your voice came out as a shriek. “Tell him no! Tell him I said to stop! I- come with me!” You had already begun to pull him out of bed and out the door, looking like a mess but that wasn’t a worry at all, not right now. Zandy followed you aimlessly, sniffling and sputtering out words.

“B-But not just me, all the other segments are going to be e-erased too! Alpha, Beta, Delta-” You paused, deep fear instilling in your heart as you too began to breathe heavily. Still, you swooped down to Zandy’s height and hugged him, putting on a brave face.

“I won’t let it happen - you’ll be fine. We’ll just go to Prime, and then he’ll-”

“He approved it, though,” Zandy’s voice was tiny as he stared down at his feet as if he too was unwilling to believe he would be betrayed like this. You felt like you were going to be sick, heat rushing to your face, burning you alive.

“What?” Your voice was just as small as the child’s.

“Well, he’s not happy about it, but-” You gritted your teeth.

“I won’t accept it. You will not suffer such a fate, I pro-” You stopped when you heard footsteps approaching.

It was the person you wanted to see the least and most at the same time.

“Dottore,” your voice initially came out exhausted as you forced your shaky legs to stand up again, “Dottore, you best explain yourself right now,” you hissed, the malice now undeniable. “Tell me that this isn’t true.” Dottore opened his mouth to speak, but he seemed to realize that it would not be the answer you desired. The Harbinger’s eyes landed on his child self, who now clung to your leg in fear. Zandy looked at him in a way he hadn’t seen in a long time. Dottore ignored all emotions and focused on his logic.

“It’s neces-”

“Don’t you dare say that!” You interrupted him, hopefully before the child could hear his own creator (or perhaps, father) say he was dispensable. “That’s not true, you know it’s not-” Your words were interrupted by Zandy clutching his head and squeezing your leg deathly tight, the thoughts of the other segments reaching an all-time loud high.

“It’s happening… O-Omega’s going to do it,” the child had broken into full tears as he listened to the others vehemently deny Omega’s decision. He then frantically clawed at your leg, reaching for your hand for some sort of comfort.

“[Name], I don’t want to go! I don’t want to leave you! I don’t want to…” The one in the beginning of his life, the picture of innocence, dared to take one last look at the one in the prime of his life, who he couldn’t recognize anymore. The last word died on his lips. Your heart wrenched and pounded painfully as you looked away to beg Dottore again.

“Dot- Zandik, do something. Please, please stop Omega. I won’t ask for anything else ever again. Y-You can’t take him away from me…! Please!”

And then you felt your hand become empty, and your leg become cold. Bile began to bubble in your throat. You felt like you were going to throw up, wondering if you should dare look back down. 

You did anyway.

There was just empty space, Zandy nowhere to be found. Not even his clothes, not a single thing left of him. He had disap- no, he was dead.

Zandy was dead.

Your child was dead.

Your mind was very loud, despite not thinking about anything at all. Your hand twitched, trying to grasp the warmth that was there just a few moments ago. You tried to pretend there was the sensation of him holding you again.

Unfortunately, imagination can’t replicate reality.

You don’t even realize how close Dottore had gotten to you, eyes still frozen on the spot where Zandy just was.

“[Name].” His voice brings you back, but not for a good reason. You blink as you mechanically turn your head to face him. You don’t understand why he isn’t bothered. You don’t understand why he did this. You don’t understand anything. And then your face, which was as still as a statue, suddenly became enveloped in grief and tears. Your husband slightly grimaced at your expression.

“[Name],” he tried again, “I-”

“Don’t you dare speak to me like that, in that tone of voice,” you snapped amidst your continuous tears. “Do you have any idea what you’ve just done to them? To me? To us?” You weren’t sure which you would prefer - that he wasn’t sure about how much this would pain you, or that he did know but went ahead with it anyway. And it wasn’t just you, now that Zandy was gone… he would never be able to make peace with what he was.

“My last words to Zandy were a lie,” you cried. “A lie! I didn’t even tell him that I cared for him, how much I cherished him, how I loved the time I spent with him, how much I loved him!”

“Did any of the time we three spent together mean anything? Did he mean anything to you, Zandik? Or was it just a lie?” You relentlessly spat at him, refusing to let him get in a word. “You just used him and the other segments as bargaining chips. Pawns. They weren’t tools… my child wasn’t expendable, he was a person too,” you sank to the floor, your whole body trembling and immensely fatigued, but your mouth kept moving, wrapped in your incoherent grief. “I thought we could-, no, we were a family… Was I the only one who cared?”

Dottore could only watch as you broke apart in front of him. What could he have said to extinguish your tears? That he didn’t quite want to do this either, but he had to? Regardless of the newly acquired feelings about his segment, nothing… nothing could come in the way of what he had to do.

“Would you do the same to me, Zandik? Would you trade me for a Gnosis, too…?” Dottore stiffened at the question. It was never something he’d thought you’d say, considering how foolish it was. Him? Give you up? No, he would never. Never. He would sooner let all of Teyvat burn but-

“He was just a kid,” you sobbed. “He was just a little boy. How could you? You… you…!” Dottore could feel your sheer rage and sadness easily, his hands wanting to reach out and offer you some sort of comfort.

But he was a monster, and he knew it.

[thevoidstaredback]

I have been madly inspired by this post, but I don't have time to write it. Instead, you get a prompt!

Tim and Danny are twins, just as in the inspo prompt. Except, instead of being from the DC Universe, they're both from the Danny Phantom Universe.

The timelines both continue as normal up until just after Dick becomes Robin (DC) and the Portal Accident (DP).

Instead of Sam and Tucker (or maybe you want them there? Idk. In my head, they aren't here) who're with Danny when the portal opens, it's Tim. They'd decided to try and help their parents as best they could (because this is a family of geniuses, guys!). Tim was working outside in the lab while Danny went in to see if anything's wrong in there, the accident happens as canon.

Now that the portal's open, Danny goes out as Phantom while Tim works as his support. (Neither tell Jazz or anyone because they're both allergic to help) Some way or another, Tim gets lost in the Ghost Zone and ends up in the DC Universe, wandering the streets of Gotham.

Jack and Janet Drake had decided to follow Brucie Wayne's lead and adopt a not well-to-do kid. They stumble upon Tim and basically kidnap him. He goes along with it because he doesn't know how long he'll be stuck here and he needs to blend in.

We all know the jokes of Tim being forever 17? Well, being exposed to the portal and the GZ as intensely as he was slows down his aging (unlike Danny whose aging completely stops) Tim doesn't leave Drake Manor much, nor is anyone much around to notice anything, so it's not like it matters. He doesn't actually notice at first!

Then, Tim sees Batman and Robin. At first, it was just glimpses of them, but then he got obsessed. He bought a camera using the Drakes money and set about his quest. He follows the vigilantes, learns from them from a distance, because this is what his brother does! This is what he was helping his brother do!

Eventually, Robin quits, leaving Batman and Batgirl. Dick Grayson leaves Gotham just after that. Then, Bruce Wayne adopts Jason Todd and Robin is back on the scene. Tim pieces it together pretty quick after that

Meanwhile, Danny's a mess. His twin brother is missing somewhere in the Realms, probably scared out of his mind and he can't find anyone who'll help him look! On top of that, Vlad's getting on his nerves more than usual, pushing further and further past the line he'd drawn in the sand.

Then, the Nasty Burger explodes. No one dies, thank God, but Jazz, Sam, Tucker, and his parents are all in the hospital.

Scared out of his damn mind that he'll become Dan, he retreats to the Realms. He flies and flies, grief skewing both his sense of direction and his will to care, and he ends up somewhere dark. It feels different from the rest of the Realms he's explored. Everywhere else, he could feel Clockwork and the Observants Watching, but not here.

Danny, needing to rest and calm himself down, lands in Gotham. Right in the middle of a Scarecrow attack. He's doused with Fear Gas.

Batman and Nightwing have been fighting again, and the new guy, Red Hood, isn't helping matters. Robin, in an effort to just get away for a bit, goes off on his own during patrol. That's when Scarecrow attacks.

Danny, more human than ghost at the moment, sees flames engulfing the building next to him, his friends and family all in there. And right in the middle of everything is his twin brother. He tries to get to them, to Tim, but someone's holding him back.

Tim sees his brother. He'd run to where Scarecrow just left, letting Batman and Nightwing handle Rogue, to check on any civilians that might've gotten caught, and he only sees one. At first he thought that he'd inhaled some of the Fear Gas, but he can think clearly and there aren't any other symptoms.

"Danny?" Tim asks, voice quiet, not daring to hope this is real. He'd almost given hope about ever getting home. He doesn't get an answer, but he can see the symptoms of Fear Gas settling over Danny, so he restrains him before he can hurt himself.

Danny passes out as soon as Tim gets him the antidote, and now Tim is left to explain why he's brought a civilian back to Drake Manor and why the civilian looks like him

[carolmunson]

you get me closer to god | kas!eddie (dark)

entry for my fall frenzy requests. this request comes in from @edsforehead: 'something with kas!eddie in a graveyard.'

a/n: y'all, i don't know. i kind of snapped with this one. sort of canon compliant. inspired by a post that i saw that said that after vampires feed they have an insatiable desire to breed afterwards. steve also makes an appearance cause i love him.

tw: 18+ MDNI, dub-con, dub-con, dub-con (reader does get into it). use of hypnosis, coercion. blood play, blood drinking, biting. very obvious power dynamics at play here. death of minor character mentioned. p in v smut, rough and sensual. oral (f-recieving), monster-type-fucking. mild chasing trope. some religious elements if you squint??? anyway i listened to closer by nine inch nails on a loop for this if you wanna know the general vibe. let me know if there is anything i missed and need to put on here!

October 31st, 1998

Your niece had a better haul than you ever did at this age, it seemed like every house on the fancy side of Hawkins was giving out full size candy bars. No one ever gave you full size candy bars. The Harrington's had outdone themselves this year, hoards of kids picking out wrapped caramel apples and passing out spiked cider to the parents. Humming and smiling while the adults hugged their parkas to their chests, kids running up and down the stairs of the cul de sac of Hawkins Mansions. Decorated to the nines -- you were happy that most of the street would tire her and all of her friends out. "Auntie!" she calls out, hurrying over to you while her pink and purple puffer coat swishes with her. Alycia glitters against the lights of the houses in the dark of the night, the red sequins on her leotard making her easy to find. Your sister-in-law made her a headband fitted with red horns with a pointed tail sewn into the back of the red tu-tu from her Spring recital to match. A Dancing Devil she called it -- for newly six, she was a pretty creative little bug.

"Auntie look," she yells, running into your legs. The spiked cider sloshes in your cup that you hold high over her head so it doesn't spill onto her. She holds up a decorated caramel apple covered in eyeballs made out of sugar.

"Gross, Leesh," you giggle, "It's got eyeballs all over it!"

"They're fake eyeballs, Auntie," she explains like you're stupid, "They're not real eyeballs."

"Oh, thank you for telling me. I didn't know," you giggle, catching Steve watching the two of you chat. Your cheeks burn, that crush from when you were fourteen and he spent the summer working at the mall never fully fading. He's married with four kids now so you should probably get over it. "How're things?" he asks from the curb, coming over to sneak Alycia a couple of Reese's cups. "They're good," you shake your head with a shrug, "They're fine. Out here with the rugrat while her mom's at work." "How's the family, your mom?" he presses, arms crossing over his broad chest that stretch the sleeves of his tan workwear jacket.

"She's doin' okay," you smile tightly, "Always a little hard for her this time of year."

"Five years now, isn't it?"

"To the day," you say with a lilt, "Gonna go visit him after I drop her with her grandparents. My dad'll be so thrilled to steal half her stash."

Your laugh is a little hollow when he squeezes your shoulder comfortingly, he slips a candy bar into your hand, too before saying his goodbyes -- set of twins running around his ankles.

Hawkin's bravest fireman somehow off duty on a night like this turns before you take your niece's hand to leave, "Be careful out there at night. You know it's not always safe."

"You don't believe in all those rumors, do you Harrington?" you laugh.

"Don't have to believe them or not," he says seriously, pushing his wire rims up his nose, "I know they're not rumors."

"Happy Halloween, Steve," you say dully, "Goodnight." You both wave, Alycia's little hand in yours while she rattles off a million words a minute about the skeloton outside of the Sinclair house. The moon glows down over the street, dark clouds slicing it like a broken plate.

You rarely visit your brother on the day of, especially since there's always idiot teenagers running around the place. Not exactly easy to mourn when some loser in a Scream mask keeps trying to scare you.

It was quiet, your Docs crunching on mid-fall frosty grass -- some of it already half dead with the season. Commotion from the town in the distance had dulled into mostly nothing now that the kids had turned in for the night. Families turning their porch lights out, settling in for scary movies and sugar highs.

You squeeze the bouquet of baby's breath and eucalyptus a little hard in your hands when you walk through the tombstones. The low lamps along the walk way casting the grass and asphalt in a looming orangey glow -- not offering much light beyond their posts. The moon does the work, still looking shattered amongst the thin gray clouds sliding through the sky.

You hear some giggling, the rustle of leaves, the snap of twigs. Always an outlier of kids doing spells or a Ouija board out here this time of year -- old Chief Hopper coming down to make them scatter and take their weed. You walk off the path when you get a decent way in, crossing away from where the cemetary mostly turns to forest. Four 'Happy Birthday To Yous' into the brush and then a left, two head stones, then a right -- it's the third headstone on the fourth row. No light to shine down on you this time, just whatever's left in the sky. You take your big yellow scarf off from around your neck to lay over the grave, giving yourself a place to sit so your spandex covered thighs didn't have to touch the grass. Your mom would kill you if you got grass stains on the red trench she let you borrow -- a makeshift Carmen Sandiego costume if anyone asked.

You sit, laying the bouquet right at the granite edge, tracing his name before letting your hand drop. You don't say anything for a while, letting the cool wet air run over you in waves. You wonder if the wind blowing is him saying hey.

A few cemetery patrons come by, pay their respects to their loved ones and leave. Some superstitious, some religious. They fade out after a while. The loneliness is comforting, just you and your brother hanging out together like before. Despite being six years apart, it felt like you both always had some weird wonder twin telepathy. He was never really one for a lot of words.

"Didn't that guy tell you not to come around here so late?"

You jump at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, turning around to see an even more unfamiliar person. Wild curly waves messy around his face, cut in 80s shag perfection. His face chiseled, jawline pronounced with soft stubble, soaked in fake blood. It trails down his neck and stains the white of the baseball tee underneath a leather jacket; fitted over top with a battle vest that rivaled the metal heads of the 70s.

"Who're you, huh? You following me?" you ask. You swallow nervously, finding solace in seeing a few other cemetary visitors mosying around. The faint giggle of more mischeif causing teenagers in the distance.

"Sorry," he laughs, a warm laugh that meets his eyes, "Didn't mean to scare you. I um, I saw you over by the cul de sac, overheard him say somethin' to you. I was with my little cousin -- dressed like a mermaid, I don't know if you remember."

You think back to Leesh's pal of trick-or-treaters, scanning them in your head to recall a little girl with big brown eyes and a makeshit Ariel costume on under her jean jacket -- covered in patches much like his.

"Yeah," you smile, "I remember. But that didn't answer my question -- are you following me?"

"Nah," he grins, shaking his head, "I'm visiting someone -- this was just a happy accident."

"Oh," you respond quietly, "Who're you visiting if you don't mind me asking."

"My mom," he shrugs, scrunching his nose, "Halloween was her favorite holiday so I always try to come say hi."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you offer in condolences, "Did you um -- did you grow up here? I feel like I'd remember you."

"Nope," he sighs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans while his wallet chain jingles next to his thigh, "Grew up with my uncle."

"Oh, nice," you nod, "Well um --"

"Who're you visiting?" he interrupts, sitting on the gravestone next to your brother's; hardware tinkling prettily as he does.

"Pete," you say, hand out to gesture towards the shiny granite in front of you, "My brother."

"Nice to meet you, Pete," he turns his head, curly hair flouncing over his shoulder, "Pleasure."

You laugh, he laughs with you -- you have to laugh about it or else you'd have to deal with the alternative. You're pretty sure you're all cried out about your brother now.

"What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"He worked construction," you shrug, "Took an overnight shift five years ago by the quarry, an' it was Halloween so he was workin' by himself -- no one to spot his safety gear. Must've fallen off the rigs or something and since it rained a lot that year the quarry was basically a lake at that point, hit his head and drowned. His body was completely banged up and waterlogged, they could only ID him from his pass in his pocket."

"Shit," he nods, "That's -- that's fuckin' awful. I'm sorry."

You shrug, "Bitch of living, I guess."

"Hm," he nods, "I wouldn't know."

"What do you mean?" you ask with a cocked head, eyes lingering on him while his linger on you. "Don't worry about it," he smirks, the kind that makes your heart flutter; cheeks getting hot at the sound of his voice. "You know something," you start, "With this whole get up -- and you're not from here so you might not know -- you look just like --"

"Eddie Munson?" he asks, with raised brows, "Yeah, my aunt's been telling me that forever. That's why I sorta dressed up like him for Halloween."

"That's dangerous around Hawkins, especially this time of year," you warn him, standing up from your spot and picking up your scarf. You shake it out to get some of the grass of the underside. You hardly notice the way his eyes trail from your shoes over your calves to your thighs.

"Some people say that he went right to hell after that earthquake since he killed that girl," you explain, shrugging the trench off some to fit the scarf on under it, "And now he's a demon that haunts Hawkins and terrorizes the town."

You both laugh, though his drops to a low and guttural hum. Nearly a growl. You lift your head to see him just a foot in front of you now, and you can really look. You can really see him. The paleness in his skin, tendrilled navy veins raising through it as he leans close to you.

At this distance it's clear that the hollowness in his eyes isn't makeup, but the sparkling brown is sunken into his skull. His brows darkened and determined while he looks at you.

At this distance, it's clear that the blood on his jaw is real.

"They're close," he says with a sly smile, "Really should've listened to Harrington, sweetheart."

You swallow hard, icy sweat in a film on your body while he takes a step forward.

"Those rumors are true."

The icy air shreds your throat as you run, heaving it in and out in gasps. Your calves scream, thighs aching while you sprint through the brush of the forest; trench and scarf long forgotton somehwere amongst the trees. You try to ignore the way twigs and branches swipe at your face, slicing you and scratching you with unforgiving whips. You let out a cry while you speed, leaping over roots and piles of leaves all while trying to listen with peak percision. Is he close? Is he getting closer? Can he see you?

You stop behind a log near a dip in the earth, rocks above it. Climbing in you heave, trying to catch your breath -- you aren't really made for this. You don't know how girls in the movies can run that long without needing a break.

With a deep inhale in, you hold, using the quiet to try and hear him but there is nothing to be heard. No rustling, no creaks in the wood or in the wind.

You catch your breath, slowly creeping out of your hiding space while the darkness hones -- trees blocking out some of the moonlight. You take a step and then another, trying to make as little noise as possible.

Your efforts are of no use though -- you stomach turns at the sound. The flap of wings, leathery wings -- big. A shaky breath in gives you the courage to turn your eyes up. On one of the taller branches above you he sits, pale and domineering, "Hi, sweetheart."

You bolt again, depserate and sobbing while the cold air is no longer a hello from your brother but mother nature's cruel bite on your wet cheeks. You can barely take in breaths without pain in your throat and chest, turning left and right and left again to lose him but from above he can predict your every move.

When you hear silence again you take another turn, a mausoleum broken down a short distance away. You crawl your way in, wet earth and cement hitting your nose while you gasp and heave for the second time. You listen for the wings for moment, a few moments -- a calm washing over your back when you're sure he's gone.

You take a step back further into the darkness to be sure you're unseen. Deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. One, twice, three times.

Another step back and you bump into a pillar making you jump, a screech wrenching from you.

Not a pillar no, not by the way a set of claw bites into your shoulder.

"Would've been a good hiding spot if it wasn't for me finding it first, right?" he quips, "Bummer." "Y-you can't d-do this," you cry, "The r-rumors are true they'll -- they'll look for me! Steve knows about you!"

"Oh, babe, that's so cute," he muses with a giggle, "Why do you think I'm still here, huh? Steve's just like me, he's bitten too."

"B-but--"

"Why do you think he believes in all those rumors, huh baby?" he asks with a lilt, "Cause he's one of 'em. Well -- not all the way, I guess. Not like me."

"He blows my cover he blows his whole operation," he grins, sharp teeth bearing themselves at you, "Why d'you think he only works night shifts?"

"I -- don't -- I don't," you sputter, "Pl-please d-don't bite me, d-don't eat me I -- I'll do whatever."

"You're too funny," he says in your ear, deep and grizzly while you're rooted to the spot under his clutch, "I already ate, sweet girl. But you'll make a fine dessert."

You don't know how you get there but it's not like home -- it is but it isn't -- dark and deadly; covered in slithering vines. You're too petrified to ask; but whatever this place was, despite the spores in the air and the rubble from the walls -- it was much nicer than the trailer he grew up in.

"Shh, shh, shh," he coos, claws deep in your shoulder while he wrenches you to a bed covered in plush linens -- satin and full. In the blur around you it could almost be a movie set; the booms of red lightening, dripping pillar candles in heaps around the room.

You whimper at first when his claws release, hot blood oozing against your sweater. The pain pulses like a dull thud, spit flooding your mouth while you move to your side to wretch but he catches you by the root of your hair. You wail in fear, smelling the decay in his breath, the sweet subtle rot of your surroundings.

"It's not polite to cause a scene in a stranger's home, right princess?" he asks with a soft lilt. He holds your gaze, warmth spreading over you when he smirks again -- and despite your fear, you can't look away. You aren't even sure if you want to look away.

Your body goes slack on the comforter, melting into itself like a dropped marionnette. "Very good," he purrs. Hazy, you feel his hands on you -- losing their warmth while they sneak under the hem of your sweater. The pads of his fingers are soft in comparison to the tips of his nails, grazing your stomach and sternum before reaching up to cup your breasts. He lets out a shallow breath, squeezing the delicate flesh softly in his palms -- so gentle despite his rough demeanor.

His thumbs graze your nipples in slow circles earning him a mewl from your dry throat.

"So easy," he giggles in a whisper. You nearly pout when his hands slide down and away from you; beginning the unhurried removal of your clothing. He moves glacially, eyes remaining on yours, wraiths of whispers in a lanuage you don't understand fluttering in the air around you -- in one ear and out the other. Part of you wants to scream and thrash while he slides off your spandex, rips the seams of your panties, destroys your socks.

His clawed hands shred your sweater, snap your bra at the straps until all your clothes are left in a heap on the dusty floorboards by a forgotten desk. He crawls over you like a predator, undressed himself now: some how bigger, more hulking than before. His shoulders are broad, muscles flexing while skin so white it's nearly blue stretches over it. Whatever is down here has completely infected him, you can see it in the color of the veins beneath his skin, the slight red in his pupils, the dark blue hues under his eyes.

His wings lift high around him in an arched half circle, tips appearing behind him like a hybrid of horns and halo at once.

"Could smell you from here," he leers, "since last night. Christ, fucking drooling over you like a kid."

You whimper again, body jolting in pain when his nails pierce your thighs when he parts them. Fresh ichor spilling from the wounds in deep sanguine and he doesn't seem to care about the mess he's making while it drips onto the sheets. His cavalier manuevering comes off as though he likes to play with his food before he eats it.

"And I don't know what it is, angel, how my senses find the right ones," he rasps while he leans forward to your blood soaked shoulder; serpent tongue slipping out to lave over it, "But you really called to me this year; think you might be the one."

"The o-one wh-what?" you sniffle. His tongue slides over the lacerations on your shoulder again, sucking slightly from the new wounds. He lets out a groan, using free hand to rest on the side of your rib cage for support.

He deatches from the well he drinks from, tip of his nose running over your decollatage and up your neck. In inhales over your jugular, pressing a wet kiss under your jaw before getting to your ear.

"The one I mate with, sweetheart," he breathes, "The one I breed."

Breed? You heart sinks like a stone into your belly, body tensing in a freeze while you think of what to do. How to get out of here.

"Wait," you gasp, arms coming up to push at his chest and push him away, "No, please, wait -- you can't."

You push and push but he's a stone pillar, he barely moves, his muscles barely push inward at your assault. He tuts, the click of his tongue between his teeth almost a chitter. He noses your cheek before looming over you, tips of your noses brushing. He catches your gaze again, the whispers start while the air blows in through the broken window. Obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo. His lips aren't moving but you can hear his low voice in your ears, barely there, swirling around in your subconcious while the wind whispers with it. Another flash of red lightning illuminates him in a streak, the rumble of thunder vibrating your belly and chest. His hand floats up from your rib cage while you settle, cupping your cheek to slide down to your jaw and over your neck. The touch is nearly comforting, dipping you back into a haze like before.

"You were saying?" he asks.

"Hm?" your brows pinch, his voice muffled and far away.

"That's what I thought," he says smugly, head dipping back down to your neck where his lips drag over your delicate skin. His breath leaves a patch of wet heat that lingers when he moves down over your chest, fangs peeking out behind his full lips when he drags them over the swell of your left breast.

A gentle gasp escapes you, eyes fluttering closed when the tip of his tongue teases your pert nipple, blowing cool air against it once soaked with his spit. He flicks against it again, alternating sides, presses kisses over them in clear ownership. The more he tasted of you, the more it belonged to him.

With each touch and tease of your tits the more you gasp and whine beneath him, he chuckles from his belly, moving down to your sternum.

"And I died a virgin, can you believe it?" he asks with a cocky lift to one of his brows, "Now all I gotta do is smile and girls like you 'll just fall into bed with me."

There's cotton in your ears, all you can do is nod slowly while blood still leaks from your shoulder and thighs. All you can feel is his mouth and hands travel further and further down. The wind howls and the low chant in the back of your head changes tune but in the same cadence; over and over again: vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.

He licks a stripe up the back of your thigh to catch a bead of blood before it reaches the mattress, savoring you. He feeds from the gouges he left behind for a moment before inching forward to the apex of your thighs. Eddie inhales your scent deeply, the earthly musk of you making his mouth water in a mix of metal and spit. His nose brushes against the untrimmed hair of your mound, ghosting himself over it drunk with attraction.

Your body heats up with mild embarrassment, flexing while your hips writhe slightly underhim. Almost as if he can hear your thoughts he kisses the crease of your thigh, "Nothing to be embarrassed about, baby. Girls don't let it grow like this anymore n' it's such a shame."

You want to speak up and explain it's just 'cause you haven't had the time but your tongue doesn't know how to move anymore. Too tired to speak, too caught up in how he feels, how he touches, how he takes what he wants. You relent again, body relaxing; pliant while he spreads you apart for him a desperate moan pulling from you when his tongue -- still soaked in your blood -- glides from the pool of slick at your opening all the way up to your clit.

You almost gag at the way your body betrays you, sending a spread of electricity over your nerves from your core to your finger tips. "More," you whisper, not even believing you're begging for him, "Please, more."

Eddie's smug in his response, smiling with his eyes while he looks up at you from between your legs, "And good manners? You spoil me, princess."

Your back arches in a soft curve when your hips push back into the mattress, pressing yourself into his waiting mouth. He groans again when your body drips for him, leaving a damp sheen on his cheeks and chin. It's not about your pleasure despite how much of it he's bringing you, but about your consumption. He's devouring you. Licking his plate clean from the outside in.

The moans he takes from you spur him on, getting you further and further away from the fight you put up before. Spilling over for him like a puddle while you writhe, a hand reaching out to rake through his hair. His own reaches up from aroud your thigh to hold you by the wrist tight to your side.

"Hands to yourself," he murmrs, soft lips wrapping around your swollen clit to suck expertly on the bud. You whimper, tugging at his hold but it only makes his grip more intense, pinning you there without much a fight. Not even enough to distract him from the task at hand.

When his tongue sinks back down into your soaking core you feel it, the heat pulsing through your belly while he lets the muscle dip and swirl in your wetness. Your thighs twitch and shake when his nose bumps your sensitive clit, his free hand coming up to gingerly rub circles over it in tandem.

"Oh my god," you whine, "Oh my god -- K-kas don' -- oh my god, ohmygod." He snickers, contining his movements, murmuring a quiet, "God's not here, baby."

Another roll over your hips sends you reeling, his tongue gliding in long strokes when finally the coil in your belly snaps. You fall apart beneath him, loud moans and high pitched squeals while he consumes you through it. Your body vibrates, thighs clamping down over his ears, blood from the slices in your flesh staining his hair and jaw.

He hums low when you settle, gasping for breath on your already dry and scratchy throat while you come down. 

Eddie rises slowly, shoulder blades and wings moving with him while he crawls up your body. Smooth and languid like a snake, his torso hovers above yours while he settles his hips between your thighs. You look up at him, his shape, the way his eyes have blown black, the newfound sharpness in his features. A creature, a monster in your wake — not the same person you saw at the cemetery. 

“Oh,” he coos when he sees your eyes glassy and rounded upon him, “So precious.” 

You're much weaker now, mind and body, the stings across your skin from the broken branches and his sharpened nails a pain you've become better accquainted with. You take another breath of calm, arms resting by your head with your palms up towards the ceiling. He takes the moment of surrender to hold them down against the bed. The pressure of his hips against yours keeps you pinned, but you barely fight -- maybe squirm, maybe whine. No thrashing, no screaming, the whispers echo through the wind again:

Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.

"So, so, precious," he whispers while he leans forward, kisses pressed to one cheek and then the other slow and controlled. He inhales again when he dips down to your neck, piercing fangs dragging over the vein there. You feel the push and then the pain, the unbearable blinding pain of his teeth ripping through you. Through your skin, through the muscle, the pulse of his mouth while he holds himself there.

You cry out, nearly a scream while he holds himself there -- just enough to infect you, just enough to get the poison in. The pain reaches a blinding peak, bile growing up your throat, eyes filling with a white hot surge of anguish and then -- Nothing. Euphoria. An unknown lightness you hadn't felt before.

He releases, still holding tight to your wrists above your head when he raises up over you again.

"Open," he instructs, and in your hazy gaze you obey. Your tongue flattens against your chin without command.

"Very good, sweetheart," he praises, collecting the blood left on his lips and in his cheeks to spit it directly into your waiting mouth.

"You can close now," he grins, "And swallow."

He grunts, hips sliding against you so that you can feel his length between your legs; the girth alone sends a chill to the part of you that is screaming inside your head. How is it supposed to fit? How is he supposed to get this inside you? "Don't worry," he laughs, "It'll fit."

When your vision snaps up at him he laughs again, "I can hear you in there, princess. I can always hear you."

He dips down again, tip of his nose sliding over your cheek to your ear, "So be very careful what you think about."

He doesn't need his hands to guide the head of himself into your already needy center. It's a stretch, delicious but nearing painful. It's not something you've ever even dreamed of taking before; thick, large, inhuman.

Your legs lift on their own accord while he pushes in further, getting half way while you let out a choked sob.

"Aw, shh, shh, shh," he mocks, easing in more, "C'mon you can take it."

"You can --" his hips snap in hard for the rest of him, letting out a ragged grunt when the rest of him disappears inside you, "--take it."

You mouth hangs open in a desperate oval, face crumpling when you become so full of him -- all encompassing. A part of you now, buried deep within. He moves, dangerously slow and controlled; methodic in how he thrusts himself deeper and deeper inside. "Mmm, that's it," he growls, chest to chest with him while his hip grind at a deliberate pace. You feel his hot breath fan out over your lips, forehead pressed against yours. He's not hot, he's not cold, just skin against yours while it flashes with heat. You go from shaking to sweating with minutes in between.

When your hips roll to meet his thrusts you moan, the tip hitting you so deep in your core that stars burst behind your eyes. "There we go," he grins mischeviously, "S'at feel good, pet?"

"Ooh, yes," you hiss through gritted teeth, actively trying to bounce yourself againsth him now that your body has started accommodating his sheer size. He raises himself up on his hands like a cobra, snake like peering down at you while he meets the roll of your hips with an unforgiving thrust.

"Good," he oozes the word out like smoke, deliciosly deep seated in his belly when he thrusts hard again. He mumbles a quiet musing to himself that you can't hear -- too gone in the lightness in your body, in the way nothing hurts, in the way you're so full.

Can finally fuck you how I wanna.

He gets up, sitting back on his haunches while still inside you, pushing your legs up so your knees end up by your ears. With this leverage he sinks in deep. You don't even know how far in he is, just that he's in and he's there, he's everywehre, he's outside and in.

Eddie locks eyes with you, that same smirk from the cemetary that made your stomach flip dancing across his devilish features, "Tell me you like it."

Your mouth moves before your brain can hesitate, "I like it." "Tell me you need it," he demands, tone measured and sure.

"I need it," you say back, your voice coming out broken and weak, "Please, I need it."

He pulls back and punches forward, hard enough that you gasp at the impact. He grips you hard by the backs of your legs, thrusts starting slow and building at an unrelenting pace. His eyes are wild; boring down at you through from under furrowed and determined brows. If you had any mind left, you'd think that he hates you by the way he stares.

"Fuck," he snarls, leaning forward over you, one hand pressing down on the mattress next to your head, "Shit -- fuck, that's it. That's fuckin' -- shit, you're fuckin' mine." "Say you need me."

"I need you," you choke back without thinking, barely able to breathe at his speed. The coil tightens deep inside of you again, tears pouring down your cheeks in waves -- not even crying, just recieving. Absorbing him. Your body rocks like a boat on unsteady waves pinned beneath him, the only sounds are the whispers in your subconcious, his growls and sputters like an animal above you. The lewd slaps of skin against skin, the squelches of him pushing you to your limits.

He steadies himself over you, nose to nose again while he fucks you. Really fucks you. Impressed with himself, he lets out a breathy chuckle when you throw your head back -- eyes shutting tight with a pornographic scream.

"Oh GOD!" you cry out, "Oh my god."

His fingers and claws catch your chin with a firm shake, eyes snapping open to meet the knowing glare of his ruddy brown ones.

"Your god," he starts, panting into your mouth, "is right here in front of you."

You swallow, mouth falling agape again when you feel the bite of his nails on the fat of your cheeks. "Right here," you repeat, dazed and overwhelmed, "N'..n'fronname."

"Right here in front of you," he nods, leaning down to brush his nose against yours while his thrusts slow to a steady pace. It's then that his lips meet yours, the kiss searing with desire and claim when his tongue slides into your mouth. You can taste the metallic twang of your blood in his mouth, sighing into it while he guides the kiss. Breaking away and coming back in; rushed and heated each time while he feels himself get closer to his peak.

His forehead presses against yours, one hand finally releasing your wrist to hold your head in place over your hair. You keep eye contact with him, not even sure if you're blinking, if you even need to blink. You rasp breaths, mouth and throat dry and aching while you breathe into him. You're close, teetering on the edge while he pushes you up with his hips to rest your lower body on his knees and thighs.

"Come undone," he murmurs, "Let go for me."

The command ripples through you, bursting through your belly with a warm heat. You welcome it, eyes rolling, cries pouring from you in words you don't think you understand. He encourages you, offering you rough sweet nothings while you pray to him, beg for him, ache for him.

That's enough to send him over; seeing you completely at his mercy now. Obedient, trained, devoured.

He snares and snarls, growling while he comes deep inside of you. The hand on your head wraps painfully in your hair like it did before you started -- uncaring, brutal. The heat of his seed pools deep within you like the heart of your orgasm. Glazed over you groan, hips rolling up in one final cant to receive him fully. Your vision vingettes while he unsheathes from you; fluids leaking onto the sheets. You're empty and the room spins with a new blackness, you're fading. Fainting? Dying?

The fuzziness continues to darken arouns you, around him, until he's all that's left in the tunnel of your vision. "That's a good girl," he soothes smugly, "Very well done."

Your gaze and mind fade fully to a staticky black.

You wake, you’re not sure how much later. 

Still on the bed and still undressed but your arms feel tight – a tug reveals your current state. Bound to a post on the headboard by a triple handcuff knot, dense hemp rope keeping your arms above your head. 

You whine and struggle, coming to your senses now – no one knows where you are, you barely know where you are. An underworld – hell. Somewhere. 

“Don’t look so terrified, sweetheart,” his smooth honey voice is heard before he appears in the candle light again, “I’m right here.” 

“Wh-why am I –” you swallow thickly, coughing and sputtering with how dry your mouth and throat are now, “Why am I tied up?” 

He looks at you with faux concern, brows raising, “Oh honey, are you okay?” 

He reaches out, pushing your hair away from your face, “Don’t be stressed. Y’know something – I just realized, I never offered you anything to drink.” 

“My uncle always told me you should take a girl out to dinner before makin’ the van rock and look at me,” he gestures at his chest, tutting at himself, “Where are my manners, huh?” 

Your lip wobbles while he looms over you, “Are you thirsty?” 

You nod, he grins – cheshire like, fangs glinting in the light, “I thought you would be.” He gets up, lazy and confident in his walk across the room. His body looks like marble, chiseled with the running and hunting you realize he’s been doing for over a decade. Stronger than ever; ethereal in his post orgasm glow. 

He pulls his hair back while he walks, holding it up away from his neck while your eyes travel down his back where his wings have tucked in under the skin. You gag when you see them move above his blades, rippling beneath the tattoos he has there. He’s dressed in only shorts; silk – likely stolen to really own the whole vampire thing he has going on. 

You take in a shaky breath when he gets what he needs, dropping his hair back to his shoulders when he makes his way back to you. 

He holds the dagger coolly in his hand before gliding the tip down the center of his wrist. Blood blooms from the wound; he doesn’t even flinch. 

“Open, princess,” he murmurs. Your lips clamp shut, shaking your head no while fear takes over – rot in your chest. He catches your chin again, forcing you to look at him like before. 

“Open,” he repeats, slower. His voice reverberates like a gong between your ears. 

Your mouth opens on its own accord and the smell of his blood becomes the most alluring scent you’ve had pass your nose in years. You latch on to the laceration, swallowing and sucking deeply on the wound while his blood and body quench and feed you better than any meal you think you’ve ever had. You feel revived as you devour him, eyes fluttering closed while the fill feels never enough. 

“That’s it, keep goin’,” he encourages under his breath, “Won’t have to keep asking you to do things twice once this is all over with.” 

You break away to breathe, gasping like you’re coming up for air, drowning in him. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean you’ll be just like me, sweetheart,” he says, chuckling when you eagerly lean forward to drink him again, “After a night of some deeply insurmountable pain; and then nothing. Just mine. Undead and mine.” 

“But y–you said you were – I’m –” your brows knit in confusion, “You didn’t h-have to d-do this; whatever you um – whatever you bred me with will die if you do this.” 

“Oh, no, no,” he laughs evilly, “I didn’t breed you quite yet.” 

He pulls his arm away, wiping the blood from your chin with his thumb roughly. 

“Consider what we did a, uh…hmm,” he takes a second to think about it with a hum, shrugging cheekily, “A soul bonding experience.” 

“You’re disgusting,” you spit. 

“I’m delicious,” he corrects, smearing his blood from your chin to your cheek, “If you do say so yourself.” 

He gets up again, pulling the covers out from under you to tuck you in. The chill getting to you in a way it never gets to him; you might as well be warm while you turn into actualized death. 

“I can hear you, remember?” he asks, tapping your head, “You won���t be totally alone with me. There’s…shit there are plenty just like us.” 

“Like Steve,” you pipe up groggily. 

“More than just goodie two-shoes Harrington,” he groans, “God, do you ever shut up about him?”

You sniffle in response.

“I mean this place, this – dimension,” he says, “It’s more than just Hawkins, and there are so many more like us; even up there.” 

He points upwards with a sharp nailed finger, “All around.” 

“And now that you’ll be just like me,” he smiles, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you in the crook of you waist, “There’ll be all the time in the world to breed you.” 

Your vision blurs, either from tears or from another fade, you aren’t sure. You can feel a slow burn through your veins, a rush of blood. You whimper. 

“So it begins,” he smirks, running the tip of his finger over your nose bridge. 

“Oh!” he says, eyes bulging, “Before I forget, and before I lose you – because you’ll be such a pretty blank slate when you come to – I felt like I should be honest.” 

He gestures dramatically, a maniacal grin pushing his cheeks up to his eyes while they spark, “Again with my manners, it was so rude of me to introduce myself to Pete’s grave at the cemetery. We’ve met before! Can’t believe I had almost forgotten.” 

Ice in your body fights the burning in your veins, you gag, bile coming up to singe your throat. 

“And y’know, I didn’t mean to drop him in the quarry when I was done with him,” he says with a scrunch of his nose, like he accidentally wrote the wrong tip on a restaurant check, “Really, my mistake, but Christ did he hit every piece of limestone on the way down.” 

He lets out a hearty laugh while he remembers it, your brother's body bouncing off rocks and metal before slipping under the water. You swallow your sick only or it to rise back up with a vengeance, staining your skin red while it seeps out of the corner of your mouth. You tug on the ropes in retaliation, hot angry tears stinging your eyes. 

“All that fallin’ did a number on him – which is good because it really took the heat of anyone knowing it was me. I just wasn't as clean about it back then. Much better now though,” he nods, finishing with a superior and charming look like he just told a bedtime story. 

He leans forward close to your face while your vision pulses in fuzzy black, browning out while he looks down at you. 

“And I’ll tell you something, babe…” 

Fading, fading, fading.

“He tasted divine.”

masterlist | fall frenzy | ko-fi